Parenting: Ambassador to My Son's Heart

Eyes filled to brim.

Body shaken and tense.

Confusion, disappointment contort the face of child at jagged edge of manhood.

He didn't get in.

Questions, tears escape together.

"Why is he luckier than me?"

Spiritual warfare wages. This boy formed in my womb, knows of God. But doesn't know the Father who can only be known through time and trial and...seeking.

Teeth clenched, heart aching. Determined. Satan will not win. Not this battle. Not. this. boy.

"Satan, get away!"

Words come. God's ambassador to this boys heart. I tell him about the Father I know.

Higher ways. Wiser thoughts.

Good. My good. The good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

Faith. Without knowing. Without seeing. Abiding.

And . . .

It's okay to be angry. But tell Him. It's okay for the words to be raw. He'll hear your heart.

Tell Him. Ask Him. Trust Him. Thank Him.

Decide.

Lies seem true. But they are lies construed to deceive. To trap. To kill.

Seek God. Whole heart. Entire mind.

He is good. He is true. Always. Infinitely. Forever.

I am thankful for my own scars. For the trial by fire that nearly consumed me.

Because, I know my God. I know how to find Him.

So, I draw this sweet man-child a map. Instill a compass in his heart. So he can find his way through the storms and fires and wreckage.

Jesus, my sweet son. Jesus. He is the way. The truth. The life.

God. He is Yours. You are good. He is Yours. I like to think he's mine. But in these moments I am thankful he is not. Take Him Father. He is Yours.

What Freedom Feels Like

The patchwork quilt lies quietly in ripples across the sea of grass growing wildly and abundantly into the sky.

The breeze swirls and dances through the peach fuzz on my arms. Sunshine seeps into my soul and feels like being baptized in God's love.

I breathe in the honeysuckle sweetness and breathe out the toxicity poisoning my spirit.
The heaviness that bearing the weights of my world inflicts upon my heart.

This world is beautiful. But broken. I am broken. By my own sin. By others' sin.

In my brokenness, I pick up the pieces and clumsily tape them back together.Like trying to mend the pieces of remaining flesh after a lion has feasted on its prey.

Believing that it must be done before it can be a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God. Before the spiritual act of worship.

But duct tape and clumsy hands cannot repair. The heart is too complex, too essential, too. . .

Broken. Shattered. Incinerated. Obliterated.

Pieces too small for human eyes and hands to maneuver.

It is God's work. His hands, small. And big.

His eyes see.

The Great Physician heals. Whole. Complete.

And so, I stop frantically searching for pieces. Trying to hide and heal what is broken.

I stop.

Leave the mess where it lies.

Open heart wide.

Offer it up. Whole. Entire. The most mangled, deeply rooted and disgusting parts.

Hide nothing. Bare it.

And let God work.

Let His light seep into my soul and His breath tickle my skin.

Breath Him in, breathe me out.

Freedom.

How to Distinguish Truth From Lies

I cower like a whipped puppy.

When accusations are hurled at me or someone disagrees with me. I cower.

But I am learning that just because someone else sees me and things a certain way, doesn't mean they are that way.

So I am learning to sift for truth. Here's what I am learning...

1. Pray. Tell God explicitly that I am confused. Ask Him to reveal the Truth to me. Even if that means convicting me of sin. I ask Him to reveal any area of denial that I am in and any lies that I am believing.

2. Seek wise counsel.

3. Check my heart, admit and repent of any pride or defensiveness or other sin. And make sure that I am open to being wrong.

4. Trust God to give me the answers I need and to direct my steps. Because He will. Jesus said that if I continue in His word, then I will be His disciple and I will know the truth and the truth will set me free.

5. Seek God with all my heart. Worship Him. In song and in life. And in His word.

6. Give it time. It doesn't always happen overnight.

If I do these things, the truth comes to light.

The key is relying on God and His wisdom instead of my own.

Of course, that's always the key, right?

A Reason to Give Up

I could live in the shame of my past. I could accept the judgments of others.

I could. Because I have committed heinous acts. Against God and other people. Very public things that most people who have known me for a few years know about. And others who haven't that I openly confess to.

But I don't live in shame. Because that isn't what God has for me. Or you. I won't live in character defects. I don't have to.

I do not delight in them. I rejoice because Jesus plucked me out of the clutches of Satan.

But because I remember where He's brought me from, I love Him even more. I am deeply and profoundly grateful. I am keenly aware of what God has done for me.

So while people may turn their backs on me, I will not cower. I will boldly declare God's goodness and allow the Spirit to mold me to be different in the future.

My God is amazing. He has done marvelous things for me. It's difficult to draw a deep breath when I try to meditate on it all. Everytime I drive up to our house. Every time friends ring our doorbell and I LET THEM IN.

Every day, every minute I am reminded that I exist and function by the grace of God.

Praise God!

What the Cross Means to Me

I would probably be dead.

No exaggeration. No dramatics. Without the cross of Jesus Christ I would probably be dead.

I would have given in to the darkness. "The anger of the enemy would have swallowed"...me..."alive".

The lies of Satan would have consumed me like a python consuming a baby piglet.

I believed I wasn't good enough. I believed that there was something inherently wrong with me. I believed that I was a garbage person with a Judas heart. That for whatever reason, I was born evil.

I lied, cheated and stole. I gossiped, and wore pride like a Bubble Boy wears his bubble.

I sought attention through negative behaviors.

And I self harmed.

All while going to church 3 times a week and checking off the to-do list. I was "raised in the church".

But then Jesus plucked me out of the clutches of Satan.

I haven't had suicidal thoughts in years. I'm open and honest about who I am.

Regardless of what anyone says to me or about me or thinks of me, I know who I am. I can cook and have people over for dinner and not stress or worry about how the food tastes or how my house compares to any other. I can just let God be glorified in whatever way He sees fit.

But that's all icing on the cake. My relationship with God the Father, my life in the Spirit and submission to Jesus is the real cake.

Whatever comes my way, THAT is my reality. Whether the Lord gives or takes away things in this life...His name is still blessed.

And that's what the Cross means to me.

The Story of Our House

Neither of us had a job when we got married. And yet, nearly two weeks ago, Michael carried (er...hoisted seems like a better word) me over the threshold of the home God has given us.

For the first few years of our marriage, jobs came and went. And we had baby after baby. We depended heavily on our parents for financial support.

When we finally had some consistency in the job department, we still didn't live within our means. At one point we took out payday loan after payday loan, getting further and further behind.

We would not pay our bills for months and get our electricity cut off.

All of our cars were given to us or bought for us. We went through several cars in the first ten years of our marriage.

To be honest, I can't believe we ever even TRIED to live on what we lived on. But we were not responsible with what we did have.

When I gave my life truly and fully over to Christ, things started to get better. We gradually began paying our bills consistently. We stopped asking for help from others, and we took care of our bills ourselves. We got off of all government assistance.

Those years were lean. Even when we acted responsibly with our money, there just wasn't enough to go around. God carried us through those years.

And then, we bought our first car. Completely. By. Ourselves.

I couldn't believe that this happened to us.

And then we made every payment on time. Until we were in an accident and it was totaled. And then God blessed us with a newer, fewer miles-on-it car. Which we also bought completely on our own.

We paid our rent and all of our bills completely on our own.

And then...

 Like the redemption story that began thousands of years ago and then culminated in the death of Jesus Christ, God began this story a long time ago.

He prepared us. He changed us. He brought us to the point that we can have a house of our own. A bigger, much nicer house than I ever dreamed we could have. With a recipe book shelf thing that comes from under one of the cabinets. And a Narnia Lamppost. And a chandelier. And a big window in the front to let in lots of light. And big oak trees. AND TWO BATHROOMS. On a beautiful and quiet street.

If I told you all of the things that happened to make this possible...if I told you the things that God obviously did to prepare this house for us and us for this house. You would be amazed.

This house came on the market in October 2015. I started my job in the same month. For over a year the house stayed on the market. If you know anything about the housing market where we live, you will understand how crazy it is that it was still on the market when we started looking.

We looked at 2 houses. And while I really liked this house, it seemed too good for us. But one by one the hurdles that seemed to be present, just disappeared.

I kept waiting for a hang up. But there never was one. Our realtor has commented over and over how rare our experience is.

I believe God did this. I believe He prepared us. I believe He changed us. I believe He prepared this house for us. And I believe he gave it to us.

Even if He hadn't done any of that, He would still be good and awesome.

But HE DID do all of that.

It takes my breath away.

And I thought you should know what an amazing God loves us.