If I Had Stayed[Lessons from Vermont]

Featured / Walden World / 2 Comments

A little over three years ago, our family moved from Rhode Island to Central Vermont. A job had opened up there for my husband, and we were thrilled at the opportunity he’d have to finish graduate school while also working full-time. Yes, it would be challenging. Yes, the days may be long. But it was the right move for us. The only problem is that we had to move in the span of 3 months. This meant tying up loose-ends where we were[with holidays thrown in amidst that] and then driving to a bitterly cold Vermont right in the beginning of the new year. I’m not sure I was prepared for exactly how cold it would be. I figured my frail Southern form had adjusted to the snow in Rhode Island, so this transition wouldn’t be hard at all…right?

But then the first snow fell. And it kept falling. For an entire day. And there was mud all over the floors of my new house. Plus it was an icy tundra!And the movers hit our mailbox because of the ice. It was dark and the snow stayed for…months. As a mama of two children under the age of 4, I was shocked and also felt taken hostage. We were stuck inside indefinitely(or at least, it felt that way)!

How would they expend energy everyday? How would my introverted heart find time to be alone when my husband was in quite possibly the busiest season of his life?!

I remember joking with a friend before our transition that I felt burned out socially and could cope for our season in VT without deep relationships. That would be 3 years. In hindsight, that’s a long time. But then friendship seemed like too much of an investment. We would simply survive and focus on family time.

Before we moved, my husband and I had the opportunity to connect with a local pastor and his wife. We figured we would seek to be faithful church members, but we wouldn’t have much bandwidth to have many deep friendships. Or at least, I didn’t. Plus, I was somewhat embittered by the cold. This was such a rural, frigid place. It seemed unlike anywhere I had ever been.A far cry from my very favorite residence–Southern California! I wondered why we had come in the first place. And if you had asked me, I probably would’ve told you that I hated it.

I actually remember thinking, “I wish we had stayed”.

redeemingmundance.com

For the course of those first few months, I remember feeling lonelier than I had ever been. We’d had deep friendships in Rhode Island, a church we loved and a house that seemed idyllic. But here we were, in dark, cold, icy Vermont.

And so, on that first Sunday when we made the half-hour drive to what would become our home-church—the “light in the valley” as it is so aptly named— I was grouchy. We walked in, and I tearfully recounted how I didn’t know anyone and we were out in the middle of nowhere. With snow-covered mountains and mud everwhere. These people had been here for years—most of them their entire lives. And I was this random outsider who clearly didn’t look at all like anyone else.

It felt hopeless.

I should stop here and say that I started this blog months ago. Even now as I am writing this, I feel differently. Where I once wrote that I’m not sure what changed I can now admit that I know exactly what changed. And it wasn’t me. I had resolved–or rather, the Lord reminded me– that the only way I might survive this wintry season of heart and weather was to press in. He is so kind to deal graciously with us in the midst of our stubborn sinfulness.

In my sinful stupor, the Lord reminded me to press in by His very example to join our uncomfortable, foreign, messy and cold world.

Redeeming the Mundane

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
6 Who, being in very nature[a] God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
7 rather, he made himself nothing
    by taking the very nature[b] of a servant,
    being made in human likeness.
8 And being found in appearance as a man,
    he humbled himself
    by becoming obedient to death—
        even death on a cross!

Philippians 2:6-8

The following week, still cold-but humbled–I was carting my 4 and 1 year-olds to a mommy’s group. And then to a small group with their dad. Over the course of the next few months, we began to learn their lives, we shared meals together, wept together, prayed together, laughed and sang together…

Before I knew it, three years had passed. This girl who had once said she never imagined staying in such a rural place ended up finding joy in the middle of such a challenging transition. We added two more littles to the gang. We planted gardens, hiked rivers, watched Daddy catching fish, explored markets—carefully saving trinkets and savoring local faire. We found a little bit of sweetness in every simple day. We endured the present contentedly and [by God’s goodness] learned to love where we had been transplanted.

We learned afresh to cherish [and prioritize] the local body of believers–the Church. And we humbly watched as these beloved friends regularly ministered to our little clan—whether it was through time together, time in God’s Word, sharing a meal[or a creemee on a breezy summer afternoon], or all of the little in-between oddities that make up living.

When faced with the opportunity to move elsewhere, we knew it was God’s will, but our hearts were saddened to think of leaving. This is never something I imagined admitting. And on our last day to worship alongside these precious saints, I looked on tearfully as we shared one final meal, prayed corporately and watched our children play–blissfully unaware of the impending change.

Standing in my new house all those years ago watching my daughters scale the packing paper mound, I never could’ve guessed how God would provide. But that’s the way it always goes, isn’t it?

Redeeming the Mundane

20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Ephesians 3:20-21

I could recall countless stories of how God faithfully provided during our time there(neighbors who became some of our dearest friends, a homeschool community and afterward play dates where deep friendships were nurtured, shared holidays, snow days with friends.etc…). But for the sake of time and brevity, I’ll just say…

There is so much profound joy that I would not have known if I had stayed in Rhode Island…

Featured

The End of All Things

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

Recently, I was asked if we plan to homeschool long-term. A dear friend was wondering if I had considered the future and what home education might look like in the middle-teenage years.

My honest answer was that I don’t know. I prayerfully reassess every year, based on each individual child, the needs of our family, time, schedules, my emotional capacity, etc. And so every year I move remembering the Lord’s “precious and very great promises”(2 Peter 1:3) to me in His word, and soldier on—whatever the choice may be. And every year, we laugh, cry, and grow—in every way.

My personality makes no allowances(in my flesh) for risks. I do not like them; I would rather know the outcome. So choosing to educate my children has always been in faith. And God, in His mercy, brings fruit(1 Corinthians 3:6-8).

I am certainly no homeschool only advocate. I have learned[through my own errors] that projecting your convictions on others can be detrimental relationally. But I am an advocate for living out biblical conviction, and I recognize that it manifests differently based on circumstances/seasons/family ideals/location/etc. I could count the ways I’ve been enriched through our journey, but I think that says less about our personal choice and speaks more to the faithfulness of a Sovereign God(Col. 1)

Over the last year, in our journey with one of the children, I had become discouraged regarding progress. I wondered(as I often do) if this child was excelling or “on track”. This stems from my toxic trait of falling into a comparison “trap” with others.

But this morning, over family devotions at the breakfast table, I was reminded of the end of all things. We had just read aloud the words of David in Psalm 37, and my instructions were to pick a verse that stood out. I laughed internally thinking no one heard or understood a word I said. But then that same child for whom I have labored in prayer and concern to the Lord, jolted out of her seat and began pacing around the room, clearly mid-hunt. I waited and watched, then inquired gently,

How can I help?

Paper. Was all I heard. I need paper.

I gathered the materials she needed[pens, and scissors, too] and observed.

Of course her paper was shielded as she tuned out the chaos of morning breakfast and wrote with fierce concentration.

When she finished moments later, I gazed upon her work.

It was a slip of paper, cut out with the words:


I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken

It wasn’t textbook “perfect”. But in the midst of a very loud, distracting moment, these words enlightened her heart. She wanted to hang them up so we could memorize them over the week and look at them every day.

I couldn’t help but consider Peter’s words:

“The end of all things is near; therefore, be of sound judgment and sober spirit for the purpose of prayer. Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaint. As each one has received a special gift, employ it in serving one another as good stewards of the multifaceted grace of God. Whoever speaks is to do so as one who is speaking actual words of God; whoever serves is to do so as one who is serving by the strength which God supplies; so that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom belongs the glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.”
‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭4‬:‭7‬-‭11‬ ‭NASB2020‬‬

My prayer for all of my children is that they might grow in the love and knowledge of the Lord. That they might serve wholeheartedly, living in light of the Gospel of grace.

Because the end of all things is not academic excellence[though I know that is important in its context and should not be ignored].

The end of all things is knowing Christ.

Peter wrote these words at the end of a life marked by steadfast[though imperfect] service to the Father. He had known betrayal(of his own accord and by the disloyalty of others), physical and emotional suffering, and imprisonment. He knew his end was near. And appropriately, some of his final words to the dear believers in exile included a charge to endure to the end. A

And admittedly—beneath all of my anxieties and fearful wonderings—that is my prayer. I desperately desire that my girl—and all of my little ones—will endure faithfully in the end and to the end[when God-willing, they will run into the arms of the One for whom they’ve struggled tearfully and faithfully all along].

I routinely doubt myself-as a wife, mama, educator, counselor, etc. This is particularly felt in the realm of home education. Most days I feel very ill-equipped. And I do wonder if what we’ve chosen in faith is right or best.

But that’s just it, isn’t it?

Whatever we choose, we do it in faith. We do it trusting the perfect provision of our Lord(Phil. 4:19), remembering those precious treasures in scripture we’ve clung tightly to for so long. We do it because the Unchanging, mighty God holds us fast. We do it because we know that at the end of all things to live faithfully for the glory of God and by His grace is our best expression of worship. He has given us His very son, and so at the very least, we must surrender every mundane moment. We can choose to see Him in it in gratitude and in worship.

Featured

Safety

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

I am the one who very rarely finishes a thought in one breath. I am chronically late, disorganized, and directionally challenged(you could ask my eldest). I can be impatient, stubborn and sometimes terribly grumpy when my expectations aren’t met. For these reasons and many more, I would tell you that I am a most imperfect mother.

But our tiny ones don’t see those things, do they? Or—if they do— they’re easily forgotten in an instant. These precious treasures we’ve been given are[more often than not] typically the biggest grace-givers of us all.

The latest [and greatest, in their regard] game to our littles is Tag. I’m sure you know it; someone is named the Tag-ger who runs around wildly trying to capture the other players(who then, in turn, must somehow find their way to base—usually someone or some place named by the group). Our girls have taken to plowing passionately into one[or both] of my legs yelling, “Mama is the safe place”! Admittedly, I laughed when I heard it.

I must have been relieved to know that–in spite of my many failings–they trust me. They’re secure in my embrace. Yes, I’m their “Mama”. And yes, I do pray that they always feel such safety; that they know my unconditional love.

But what do I want more than anything else? What do I pray they believe down to their bones? The unwavering, unending, sacrificial love of Christ. It is this love that calls(Ephesians 1:4-5, Jer. 31:3), calms(Psalm 131:2), sets apart(Psalm 89:31-34) and sends out(Eph. 5:1-2)–peaceably and purposefully that we might magnify His goodness. I want them to be compelled by this love on dreary days(2 Corinthians 5:14) and to be captivated by it in seasons seasons lacking fervor. I want them to remember that–because of the very faithfulness of God in Christ–they are always[no matter what] held and pursued(Isaiah 54:10).

As I thoughtfully considered their words on the playground, I was reminded of my own need to recall my safety in this love. I may not be the ideal mama in my own mind, but I pray that even in that my precious ones see the grace and goodness of God.

Marvelous it is, that One so infinitely above us, so inconceivably glorious, so ineffably holy, should not only notice such worms of the earth, but also set His heart upon them, give His Son for them, send His Spirit to indwell them, and so bear with all their imperfections and waywardness as never to remove His loving-kindness from them

Arthur Pink
Featured

In This Job

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

I often forget that this is the dream. In those long, awkward teen years, when I wondered if a boy would ever notice me, this is the man I prayed for.

And on the hectic, stifling college days when my dorm suite kitchen squeezed me in, this was the house I imagined.

It was enough for me to dream, to hope—to pray—that this would be my one day.

Of course those days were tearfully joyful and sorrowful with every emotion mixed in-between. It is not lost on me that the days of my youth were a sweet symbol of a season that will never again be.

But this life…this was the beginning of forever. It was my impossible prayer, my pipe dream; the dream within the dream.

So why then does my heart so easily forget?

And once again, Jeremiah’s warning that the heart is deceitful cautions my wayward heart…

They won’t be little forever, reminds my husband lovingly. And while he is right, sometimes—lately especially—this heart forgets. I become enraptured with other seemingly lofty thoughts—or even new dreams that have skewed my perspective. The caveat here is, naturally, that dreams aren’t necessarily destructive. But my placement of these dreams is.

This job has been given to me to do. Therefore, it is a gift. Therefore, it is a privilege. Therefore, it is an offering I may make to God. Therefore, it is to be done gladly, if it is done for Him. Here, not somewhere else, I may learn God’s way. In this job, not in some other, God looks for faithfulness.

Elisabeth Elliot

For me, this is the job. I could pursue more if God allowed but for this season, I am home. If I’m being honest, some days I wrestle with the calling. Of course I have career goals, and my days don’t always feel the most stimulating, but they are good because their Author is. And even when I’m feeling the moments are wasted [which is a lie permeating my thoughts all too often] there is so much joy in this quiet life. All of the sweaty kisses, carefully curated dress up shows, nighttime rocking rituals coupled with hymns and laughter, foraging adventures, tree excursions and every moment in between and thereafter. For now—for always—instead of a forgetful [read: discontented] spirit I can choose gratitude.

It is here, and not somewhere else, that I may learn faithfulness.

Oh Father, may my fickle heart ever treasure the beauty of these sacred, fleeting moments!

Featured

Because He is My Father

Featured / Walden World / 1 Comment

It isn’t lost on me that he was always there—for every performance, game and ceremony…not to mention all of the little moments in between. He was present. And usually my biggest cheerleader. When no one stepped up to coach my basketball team, he did it. When I needed a last minute-run to the store for hairspray–he made it. If I needed anything–prayer, wise counsel, encouragement–he was there. Not because he wanted to be my favorite parent, or the “cool dad”, but because he had committed long before I was even born to love me.

There’s a story I like to tell my daughters about this kind of love. As a child I grew accustomed to walking through tall, dew-kissed blades of grass to his office. It was a a couple hundred feet away, and with every step my heart leaped at the thought of a big mid-morning hug, and [possibly] a treat from the giant glass jar on his desk. But the walk wasn’t without turmoil–for there were stickers littering the path. Of course I didn’t mind because I get to see Daddy, but it was mildly painful, and my blood-splotched toes were evidence of this.

It is always at this point in the story when my daughters, wide-eyed, glance up asking–Mama, what did you DO? This is when I respond that I did nothing. But my daddy–their Papa–did. He carefully wrapped my feet in sheets of snow white printer paper–the durable, crisp kind that isn’t easily torn–taping along the edges. That always ensured my safe, scar-free return. And it made me feel more special than anyone on earth.

I could recall countless stories like this–when he thoughtfully considered my needs before his own; planning and prayerfully counting the cost. He placed–more often than not–the needs of others before his own. He did it joyfully in my foundational years, and it is with a heart swollen with gratitude that I recount the moments.

Even now, as a young mom of 3 thousands of miles from home, I have watched how he and my mother have taken strains to provide seasons of respite[through family vacation, time away with my husband, or caring for our littles so I can recharge]. I can think of numerous times when both of my parents sacrificed to make our lives more fun and comfortable, even if that meant they themselves were lacking. And I can’t help but wonder if that would have happened without my father’s tender, yet strong hand to lead our family. He modeled gracious living—giving of oneself constantly that others might be nourished–so well, and He continues building upon that legacy even now.

Susannah Spurgeon once wrote of a father’s love,

What little one is afraid to run to a loving father and ask for all it wants? Never a doubt rises in a child’s mind as to the supply of all his needs, and the direction of all that concerns him. The child has positively no care for the present, no thought for tomorrow, no fears for the past. Father knows everything. Father can do everything. Father provides everything. In fact, father loves.

Free Grace & Dying Love

I am grateful because I knew this love, and it continues even now. But I have seen the brokenness of this world. I have heard the stories of friends, and I would be remiss if I failed to mention the harsh reality that the word father stirs tangled emotions for some. This grieves my heart more than I can say. The fallen world has stained things meant to be wholly true, lovely, pure, excellent and praiseworthy. I have seen this within my own circumstances at times. However, we are not without hope. I know this because I have a father who–in his own imperfections–faithfully pointed me to it. He knew that as my earthly father, his failings would be many(although I can’t think of any at present). But he also knew the only One who is entirely good, strong and kind. At every point–in conversation, voicemails, prayers, letters–my father’s eyes were fixed on the Father. When my sensitivities planted seeds of doubt within my own heart, my daddy was there to remind me of truth. Not because he was a perfect man, but because he served the Perfect Father.

Spurgeon continues,

O my soul, can you for a moment imagine what it would be of joy, and rest, and peace, to live out day by day such a child-life love of the Father? He knows you altogether. He understands all of your individual peculiarities, sees your weakness and sinfulness, your sore temptations, perplexities and daily shortcomings; but he loves you notwithstanding all, not for any merit or worthiness in you, but because you are his child. You have believed on his dear Son, whom he gave to die for your sins; you have accepted his complete salvation, you have received the Spirit of adoption, and now with confidence and perfect trust, you can look up to him and say, ‘Abba Father’. And does this not suffice to make you absolutely ‘without carefulness’, like a little child?

Free Grace & Dying Love

And so on this Father’s Day, I am humbled to be loved by a father who showed me the Father through unconditional love, unending sacrifice and tender care.

Whatever this day conjures within, there is peace in remembering Paul’s words to the Romans:

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us. He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? For I am sure that neither death nor life, neither angels nor rulers, nor things present or things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. 

Romans 8:32,38-39
Featured

Small Beginnings of Grace

Featured / Walden World / 4 Comments

Our middle little has been particularly challenging the last few months. Not because of a stubborn spirit. Not for failure to obey. Not because her heart is hard. It is, in fact, quite the opposite problem–her tenderness. I hesitate to use that word problem because being soft-hearted is something I pray often over my children. But lately—and I’m not sure if it’s because we’re juggling busyness again, or just for the fact that I have 3 under 5—her little emotions seem to have run haywire. Some days my husband and I exchange puzzled glances wondering how to move forward. I suppose, however, that is not uncommon in this journey of parenting, as a whole. But this feels different. Our sweet girl cries instantly over seemingly the smallest details—my tummy isn’t hungry for this food, I wanted to give you one more hug, my chalk isn’t coloring right, my barbie car won’t fit., the water in the bath tub isn’t right, my pants won’t go on..and the list goes on and on. You may be shaking your head at my overstatement of the obvious—she’s a toddler. In fact, she’s not just a toddler, she’s three. That’s the age so far that has challenged me most. I think most can agree that it’s easy to Google developmental milestones to see why. 3 is that magical age(at least for the kiddos in our family) where they’re learning to deeply interact with the world and relationships around them. They’re asking questions. They’re exploring. And they’re responding as they learn to think critically. With our eldest, we didn’t experience an amalgam of emotions because she is more logical. She asked, we answered and she(for the most part) trusted us. When we didn’t know the answer, we would research together and she retained much. That is just the way she was made. But with our very fragile, tender middle it is entirely different. That’s not to say that both of my daughters don’t harbor gentle, sensitive spirits. I’ve seen it manifested in both on different occasions and under different circumstances.

However I recently discovered that—like me–our sweet girl feels deeply. When she is hurt, she’s down hard. When she is joyful, her spirit bursts forth with singing. When she is feeling silly, she’s the family comedian. And even though her emotions seem to weigh me down sometimes(because I don’t often know how to respond, or don’t have the capacity to respond in patient love) these are the very means by which she will be used mightily one day.

The other day I stumbled upon these words which express what my heart has needed so well:

Let us not therefore be discouraged at the small beginnings of grace, but look on ourselves as elected to be ‘holy and without blame’. Let us look on our imperfect beginning only to enforce further striving to perfection…otherwise, in case of discouragement, we must consider ourselves as Christ does, who looks on us as those he intends to fit for himself. Christ values us by what we shall be, and by what we are elected into. We call a little plant a tree because it is growing up to be so. ‘Who has despised the day of small things?'(Zech. 4:10). Christ would not have us despise little things

The Bruised Reed, Sibbes

I think I realized that on my weary and worn days, when I’m feeling irritable or sluggish, I only see those emotions negatively. Every complaint, or cry of frustration and woe just exasperates me. But I’m forgetting to see those small beginnings of grace in my sweet girl’s life. Yes, she’s the first one to cry–and sometimes wail-(at an eye-twitching pitch)-when she doesn’t get her way, or she is angered by some insignificant detail of the day. BUT she’s also the first and last person to hug her baby brother before nap and bedtime(something she requests daily). And she’s also the one who prays fervently for my aches and pains every night as we tuck her in( Lord, please help mama’s tummy. Please make mama’s headache go away, Lord, I’m so sorry that mama’s nose was bleeding today. Please make her better). She’s quick to notice when people are hurting, or lost in sadness. And she’s there to help, hug, or just be present in that broken moment. She is our feeler in every sense of the word. But there’s also a hidden consistency there that I often miss–her faithful spirit. In every emotion, she commits. I know that sometimes this is expressed sinfully, but it is a trait there nonetheless. She is unwavering in her tenderness and strength. And when this is expressed appropriately it is stunningly beautiful.

But sometimes, as she reminds me, “it’s just hard being 3”. So on those long days(which have been many as of late) I want to remember this. Her little heart won’t always use these gifts well–because she isn’t perfect. But the potential—the goodness–is there, because these are those small beginnings of grace for which we, as her parents, pray regularly. We ask the Lord to work within her heart, to draw her to himself, to make her see his pure, abundant love. And these precious, fragile emotions might just be the means by which she sees who He is and serves those around her. If only my own sinful heart wasn’t obscuring the view…

I’m so grateful that God has allowed me to see more of His gracious, steadfast spirit in this privilege of motherhood. I’m forever thankful that He doesn’t deal with me impatiently, but quietly and tenderly. He is constantly, faithfully drawing me into deeper rest and recognition that I can’t mother well apart from His matchless mercy and grace.

And I’m going to try–especially when my heart feels faint—to look upon my sweet little one as who she might become instead of seeing her flaws(of which I have many, too).

Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.

1 John 3:2
Featured

This Present Darkness

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

There is a point during winter at which everything[for me, at least] feels heavy. The seeming permanence of the season weighs me down as the snow[though beautiful] continues to fall with no promise–or even glimpse–of any sign of Spring. Life in rural Vermont promises nothing less though, and I do at least appreciate its direct–though sometimes painfully blunt–nature. This is something I’ve grown to love during our time here–the consistency and resilience of the culture seeps into your soul before you have time to do anything but appreciate it.

And yet…

The days are long, cold and sometimes very[and quite literally] gray. This proves especially difficult for a highly introverted mama with tiny people who have no full way of expending energy. We have to embrace the bitterly cold days however , bundling up to spend at least some time outside, crafting, having tea time, telling stories, building tents, etc. I am endlessly grateful for our sizable, partially finished basement–perfect for racing cars, running, dancing, gymnastics, etc. These things are my saving grace on long days when I can’t seem to catch a break and my spirit feels grumpy.

Coming to Vermont I knew this weather would impact me as an INFP prone to seasonal depression. But right now this weight feels heavier than ever. The potential causes for this are numerous–depending on the day, my attitude, my expectations, etc. But mostly, I think, I’ve been discouraged because of the looming cultural darkness I’ve observed all around me. Sometimes it helps to step away from news/media/etc. and just breathe. I hope for better things. I pray for mercy, but ultimately I cannot ignore the reality that things may not get better here on earth. This is the result of living in a fallen world.

Today while sharing a beloved book(my favorite in the series) with my eldest, my heart found words which spoke into my heaviness pristinely.

The sailors on the Dawn Treader have sailed treacherous seas in search of lost lords, stumbling upon enchanted islands bearing witness to giants, monopods, treasure, dragons, magical people -and everything in between. Always hopeful at the prospect of finding Aslan’s country. And now–near the end– they find themselves surrounded by a suffocating darkness. This is a darkness uniquely known, yet never before felt, leaving everyone woefully worn and repressed to go on. It seems inescapable.

“Never get out!” he yelled. That’s it. Of course. We shall never get out. What a fool I was to have thought they would let me go as easily as that. No, no, we shall never get out!

Lucy leant her head on the edge of the fighting-top and whispered, “Aslan, Aslan, if ever you loved us at all, send us help now”. The darkness did not grow any less, but she began to feel a little–a very, very little–better. “After all, nothing has really happened to us yet, ” she thought.

“Look!” cried Rynelf’s voice hoarsely from the bows. There was a tiny speck of light ahead, and while they watched a broad beam of light fell from it upon the ship. It did not alter the surrounding darkness, but the whole ship was lit up as if by searchlight. Caspian blinked, stared round, saw the faces of his companions all with wild, fixed expressions. Everyone was staring in the same direction: behind everyone lay his black, sharply-edged shadow.

Lucy looked along the beam and presently saw something in it. At first it looked like a cross, then it looked like an aeroplane, then it looked like a kite, and at last with a whirring of wings it was right overhead and was an albatross. It circled three times round the mast and then perched for an instant on the crest of the gilded dragon at the prow. It called out in a strong, sweet voice what seemed to be words, though no one understood them. After that it spread its wings, rose and began to fly slowly ahead,bearing a little to starboard. Drinian steered after it not doubting that it offered good guidance. But no one except Lucy knew that as it circled the mast it had whispered to her, Courage, dear heart. And the voice, she felt sure, was Aslan’s and with the voice a delicious smell in her face.

In a few moments the darkness turned into grayness ahead, and then, almost before they dared to begin hoping, they had shot out into the sunlight and were in the warm, blue world again. And all at once everybody realized that there was nothing to be afraid of and never had been. (The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Lewis)

Do I wonder why? Do I pray that things will change? Do I worry about the future? YES. But I was reminded that this darkness permeating the world is no news. The fact that people wounded, broken people walk the earth hurting other wounded, broken people is no surprise–not to me, and especially not to the Father.

In the weary winter days, the gloom sometimes leaves me feeling defeated. But my hope is not lost. There is always light, there is always peace. There is always a joy readily available when my gaze is transfixed on the “things above, not the things on earth”.

This week—I saw that light in the form of warmer days. The snow finally started to melt, the sun shone brightly and even though the wind whipped our bodies to and fro as we lingered outside, we could bear it. It was my heart’s personal charge to have courage; to endure. To live in remembrance of the immutable, unfading Light. And I do not take it for granted.

And so whenever these winter days envelop my spirit, feeling unbearably woeful and heavy, I want to look back and remember God’s faithful hand.

He does not leave us in our darkness, but instead pierces through with an unchanging, unshakable hope. We must watch for it. We must wait for it. For it is there all along.

REDEEMINGTHEMUNDANE

When Dreams Lose Their Glimmer

Featured / Walden World / 3 Comments

I have written about dreaming before. Not the sleeping kind. But those desires carefully curated and hidden away in the uttermost depths of the soul. When I was tiny, I thought my dream was to be a dentist. This was quickly foiled upon the discovery that mouths are gross. Then as I grew, I believed(and this was an idea that followed me all through college) that I would be a performer. 

I would be on Broadway, or in television. And I would orchestrate my success. 

But then things didn’t really unfold that way, and I can remember feeling a little bit lost. I lingered there longer than I should have, pursuing different avenues in the same vein,  waiting for something to happen and it just never did. No matter how hard I worked, nothing really happened and –somehow–the dream faded. It didn’t sparkle and shine the way it once had.

One of the redundant lies our culture proclaims is that we must pursue our passion. We hear this in an inspiring biography of someone who “never gave up” or we see it printed on a graphic tee shirt on instagram. Follow Your Dreams. Believe in Yourself. Do What Makes You Happy.  While I am not opposed to the idea that we’re all individually driven toward some specific bent or another, I don’t necessarily find these mantras(for lack of a better word) wise. 

It was the staunch transcendentalist Thoreau who once said, Our truest life is in dreams awake. 

While I don’t align with his particular worldview, I think Mr. Thoreau has a point. 

I spent years pursuing dreams that I believed with every fiber of my being. And I don’t regret that. But I do think there is something to be said for considering the heart of the matter. Was my desire to be known? Or to do something for the sake of bringing glory to the One who gave me the desire to do it? Sometimes, I think it was both. But in the end, I saw at my very core that the desire was to fill some void that was never empty in the first place.

Now, as a wife, mama, etc. I wouldn’t say that I’ve stopped being a dreamer. In fact, my INFP personality leaves me full of ideas almost constantly(bless my patient husband).But things look different. Nothing turned out the way I imagined. I’ve realized who holds–and even cultivates–these dream-like longings of my heart. And I see–with every seemingly mundane moment–the beauty in fixing my gaze on the One who authors my wild ideas and quiet ambitions.

For years I used to regret never pushing myself harder, or giving myself space to pursue my passion. But oh, what freedom I found in embracing what I was given! And what a peace in knowing that it was not only the right but very best thing for me. It wasn’t that my dreams died, it was that they didn’t shine nearly as brightly as they once had. The familiar glow that lifted my spirits for so long had lost its place.

That’s because the One who formed me directed my gaze towards the good, pleasing, perfect plan that was mine all along. My heart is finally at rest not in the why, but the who.

redeemingthemundane

In the long days, when I feel my hours have been wasted and left wanting…when I cannot muster the courage to wash another dish, or wipe another countertop…when discipline seems exhausting and consistency wavers in my own feeble spirit, I want to look back here and remember the goodness and grace in fixing my eyes on the One who has held my heart all along. Whoever I am, whatever I do is meaningless if He is not there at the center.
Today, whatever your now is, however your heart may grieve over what’s lost or left behind, remember Him. Recall His promises. Remember whose you are, and rest in knowing that these ordinary moments–which may not look as you expected–are not for nothing.

His plan and purpose is far greater than anything you could have imagined. He is good. He is faithful. He will give you grace to carry on; to truly and fully live in dreams awake.

Featured

A Million Dreams Are Keeping Me Awake

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

I was reading some of my old thoughts recently and was struck with the harsh reality that I live in a state of ingratitude. This particular stream of words considered the stuff of dreams. What were they? What were mine? What had changed? What had I planned so long ago for myself that was left unaccomplished? 

I was living in San Diego, CA at the time, working two jobs while also trying to hack it as a military spouse whose poor, sweet husband was out to sea more often than at home. I loved my work. I loved where we lived. And of course, I loved being married to my best friend. But somehow on this day, I was feeling a little dreary. I had stumbled upon a YouTube channel of some classmates from college(we all graduated with the same BFA in Theatre together) Instantaneously I was both impressed by their successes and[for a moment] disappointed in who I’d turned out to be. Nothing that I had planned for my life had turned out as I imagined. Briefly, I wondered if I had given up or lacked ambition in the first place. I ended up skimming the rest of the page to the very bottom, only noticing these emboldened words, the dream is following Christ. 

This week I’ve been pondering what it means to dream. The thing is, I barely recall what I felt that day. I couldn’t have imagined then that the haunting ache of desires that could not be would dissolve. Time is a tincture in that way, I think. Just as they say time heals all wounds, the passage of seasons–of joy and discomfort–has erased entirely my longing for what might have been. It was the famous virologist Jonas Salk who said, “Hope lies in dreams, in imagination and in the courage of those who dare to make dreams into reality”. And while I understand what he meant, I respectfully disagree. I think–at least for now–that dreaming requires perspective, not just a desire to do.  If I”m dreaming from a faulty foundation–whose hope lies in what I deem to be the next best thing–then I won’t ever be fulfilled. No matter how hard I imagine, or how courageously I strive to make those dreams happen, my heart will never rest.  We can “dare to make the dreams reality” but even then, where are we placing our hope?

Today as I watched my son tinkering with pots and pans, it was as if God graciously reminded me of that awkwardly tall middle school girl who used to wonder if she’d ever be a wife or mommy one day. Because then, it seemed overwhelming to believe that I would ever be noticed by a boy. Or of those days rehearsing through tears because nothing I accomplished seemed good enough. And even of that day, writing alone in my California kitchen–when my heart fell to pieces all over again at the familiar fear that I wasn’t living well. All at once I was lost in the journey so far–of schooling, marriage, moving, mothering–and my heart soared.

The dream is following Christ

Isn’t it interesting that in our formative years we waste so much time wishing the days were better, or more productive or the very best? When, in reality(and this is a theme I continue learning) we should number our days that we may apply our hearts to wisdom(Psalm 90:12)?

God in his perfect goodness sees those heartfelt desires. He delicately handles the dreams of each season–weeding out the treasure that won’t last, and producing fruit from those inspired by Him.

redeemingthemundane

But in His patience, he doesn’t just throw out what seems right and good in our hearts at the  time. Instead, he carefully crafts the dream for our good and His glory. He listens, He loves us faithfully and He continues to point us to the ultimate dream–communion with Himself. 


Today, whatever your dream is–surrender it to Christ. He knows your heart, and He desires to do immeasurably more than you could ask or imagine for the sake of His name and His renown. Anything you could dream for yourself pales in comparison to what He can do in and through you. Rest in the truth that the unfading dream lies in following Christ today, tomorrow and forever.

Featured

Armchairs: a Lesson in Faithfulness

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

 I don’t know about you, but this past week was a bit of a grind. I usually slink into a rhythm after the holiday scramble, but this month our family’s schedule had no choice but to jump head-on into busyness. Unregrettably(and with surprising enthusiasm) we have embraced full days, falling into bed both exhausted and hopeful. Mostly because the weariness of busyness feels right; normal. And we are desperate to be in that wonderful world of routine again. 

I confess that sometimes, the exhaustion of busyness leaves me listless. I(unlike my sweet husband) do not embrace the transition into a new routine well. For me, this has been most visible in my commitment to starting the day early. 

The dawn of the new year brought  a belated Christmas gift of two[long-desired] armchairs. These were chairs we had considered for years, but never allowed ourselves because “the timing wasn’t right”, they were “too expensive” or we had “nowhere to put them”. At the beginning of the year, we made a grand commitment(this was more mine than my husband’s because…he is far more disciplined than I am) to rise early together. I finally realized that the only way my introverted personality would find rest would be to embrace the unthinkable–an earlier alarm. Truth:  this is not me. I really love sleep. I mean, a lot. Ask any member of my family and they will wholeheartedly agree that I really enjoy being in “comfy clothes” snuggled under warm blankets. But I noticed that every time I awoke with the girls(meaning they came in with their standard,  “Mom, can you get me some milk?” morning greeting) I was cranky. Understandably so, right? Because who else wants to wake up to demands? In their defense, they don’t understand that questions can feel demanding sometimes. As far as they’re concerned(and there is some truth to this) it’s my job to meet their needs. But you get it, right? Thus the decision to arise early–like uncomfortably early(for me) was made. And so, morning-by-morning I cringed as my alarm rang out painfully early, and stumbled through our dark, cold kitchen to those beloved chairs. We bought them, I reasoned, and so I must. 

And so–I trudged through those first few days grumbling, yet consistent. It was cold, I was up before the sunrise, and it felt off. But then I remembered my fuzzy red polka-dotted robe. And there was a fireplace. And I could finish my tea without having to reheat it. And I got to spend time with my husband before the kids woke up. And this was the only time of day to enjoy my winter village[which is actually what I’m calling my Christmas village since I haven’t had the heart to pack it up yet] in quiet calm. And…and…

Something strange happened as I continued my date with the chairs: my heart changed. I began to see the fruit of this simple act of faithfulness. 

I recently finished reading the book of Joshua. His last charge to the people of Israel before his death really struck me. In fact, any time I see someone’s final words in scripture, it grips my heart. There’s something about the balance of caution and tenderness in Joshua’s tone that seemed to resonate with my heart this morning, in particular. After gathering the Israelites before him, Joshua recounted all the good things that the Lord had done for the people: freedom from captivity, providing a land promised and preserved just for them, destroying kings, cities and strongholds that they might prosper for the sake of God’s glory, preserving and purifying families throughout generations, etc. And then the passage shifts to Joshua’s command. The very first words uttered are these: 

Now therefore fear the Lord and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness. Put away the gods that your fathers served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

Then…

The people answered, “far be it from us that we should forsake the Lord to serve other gods…”

Joshua 24:14-16a

At the ripe old age of 9 years, I gave my life to Christ. This is something that I pray for my children daily–that they might have a desire to know and love Him from a young age. For as long as I can remember, I have known stories in the Bible. Many of them are familiar–like old friends–But I have to admit(and maybe you’ve never felt this) sometimes my heart needs to seem them afresh. Sometimes, in my flesh, I don’t see the stories of scripture with wonder and awe. And sadly, I lack that passion filling my eyes in other, younger spiritual seasons[when I say younger, I mean those foundational years…when everything was exciting and new]. This discourages me at times, and forms an incorrect self-doubt within my mind. Of course, this is due to the inconsistent, temporal nature of my own fickle heart. Never has it been because God changes. It’s always only ever me. I get in the way, so to speak. 

Too often, I am like the Israelites–making lofty commitments, foolishly attempting faithfulness in my own strength.

Sincerity and steadfastness do not come naturally because I am flawed. Honestly, this realization discouraged my heart earlier this week. But then I considered those armchairs. It isn’t always easy to get up earlier. And in fact, I really struggled most days, but it became routine. And I my heart became thankful. That, to me is a very modest example of what it means to pursue this mysterious, unattainable-in-my-own-flesh faithfulness to which I’m called. When Joshua charged the Israelites, he knew that some of them would fail. He even reminded them later(vs. 19) that it would be impossible to serve God with their own hollow promises[ He was far too holy for that]. 

But God, in his perfect grace and goodness, will always preserve those who are truly His. 

We saw Him do it continually with the Israelites, and I’ve seen it in my own life, too. When steadfastness becomes a strain, I am reminded of my need to continue looking to Christ, by whom true sincerity and faithfulness is possible. 

For me, that means honoring little commitments for the sake of the biggest one, and watching how God graciously meets me there. It means offering my often faithless, grumbling heart to the One who created it, knowing that He alone will restore, supply and sustain[producing greater joy!] to the very end. 

redeemingthemundane

Today, whatever your faithfulness looks like, know it isn’t overlooked by this completely Holy, yet perfectly loving Father. He sees you doing the dishes, working on your business, changing dirty diapers, caring for your house-bound friend or family member, striving at your cubicle,etc. He knows your needs, and He will give you grace to carry on, for the sake of your good, His name and His renown.

PS–feel free to ask me how my morning routine is going–the Lord knows I need the accountability! 🙂

Featured

This Woeful Wondering

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

 To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore.  

Jude 24-25


We live in a broken, fallen world. Every day, I wake up and struggle with that. As a wife and mother, most days I wrestle with feeling overwhelmed by my daily tasks. There is always something that needs to be done, but this season is precious! How do I savor the sweet moments with littles while also keeping the house clean? Sleep doesn’t feel restful, because there is too much to be done, and when I actually close my eyes it seems brief. On top of everything, there is this gnawing anxiety in my stomach regarding the future. Where will we go? What will our nation be like? What is going to happen to my children? What will their years as parents entail?


51/2 years ago, I became a mama. It was—apart from marriage—the most sobering transition I’ve faced so far. I carried this tiny baby in my womb, and suddenly, she was out in the world and we were magically parents. Did this mean I would know how to meet her needs? Not necessarily. I had to figure it out.
Now, almost 6 years later, I have two more precious babes and life has been a whirlwind. I have loved every minute—even the messy, disorganized, smelly ones. But, some days, admittedly, I feel like I am barely surviving…barely hanging on by the thread of my last cup of [insert caffeine-infused drink here].

Recently, my heart has felt heavy. In just a matter of decades, this country has rapidly changed. In my heart, it feels like things continue to get worse. And I am grieved. I walk around daily wondering how we could ever move into it. But then I realized: it may not be that this world has gotten worse. Maybe I’m just noticing its fallen nature more. I remember years ago crying out to the Lord regarding my own heart:

Father, I want to do this well. Show me. I don’t want to feel drained of energy constantly, and discouraged because my heart is finding hope in the temporal. Help!

In a [rare] quiet moment that day, He whispered,
I am here. I am for you. I love you. I am holding you. In every season, in every transition, whatever the circumstance, I do not change. Embrace my fearless love. Rest in my unchanging ways. Cling to me as your hope. And remember that in everything, I am God. I am in control. You are not meant to merely survive. Run to me each morning. Lay your burdens on me; I can handle it. In doing that, you will flourish.

The truth is: this world is no worse than it was after the Fall. Hurting people have–and always will–continue to hurt other people, ultimately because they have lost sight of (or never saw) their need to be whole. But the beauty of beholding brokenness is found in the grace of recognizing our need for rescue. This world and its desires will continue to deteriorate around us–and believers may suffer–but there is hope in knowing Christ! He alone is our solid Refuge and Strength(Psalm 46:1), and He is in control. No matter what happens, we can rest in His sovereign will. We can stop, fix our gaze on Him, and endure well–prayerfully engaging in opportunities to point others to Him.

Beloved friends, do not lose heart! Wherever you are this morning, however you feel, whatever you face, stop and take a moment to meditate on who God is(Psalms 103-104)! He is the Creator, the Holy One, the perfect Redeemer. As we fix our eyes on Him, the wearying circumstances of earth will surely grow strangely dim, and our hearts will press on in encouraged certainty. Oh, to have a heart fully fixed on his face! Oh, to rest in who He is! May our fickle hearts find peace in Him alone!


Other helpful avenues of encouragement:

1.  Seek out community. Specifically biblical community through a local body of believers(Hebrews 10:23-24). God has not called you to live out this purpose alone. Find a friend or a group of friends to walk alongside and pray with you. It helps, I promise. Plus, you’ll meet some wonderful people. In every season, God has provided faithful friendships that have spanned our marriage, despite many life transitions. Just recently I was thanking God for providing godly and goofy friends–those people with whom I can breathe and life feels a little less lonely. It has been a rich blessing and I am grateful.

  2.  Pray. By yourself. With another woman. Both. You will be reminded of what God is doing and how to continue praying to that end. Plus, you’ll become more aware of your daily dependence on Christ (2 Chronicles 7:14, John 15:5)
3.    Memorize the Word. Find a passage to claim over this situation and know. Chew on it daily until it is burned in your mind. That way, when the Enemy tries to attack, you can fight him with the inerrant, infallible, sufficient promises of God. Let this very word counsel your weary, restless heart. (Psalm 119:23)
  4.  Pour out. For me personally, when the hard days come, I ask the Lord for opportunities to serve Him—whether through checking in on a friend, writing a note, making a care package for someone, etc. I’m learning there are many ways to creatively love people even when you’re tied down by a busy schedule. Psalm 126:6 is one of my favorite promises–the Lord will be honored when we seek to invest rather than isolate.
5.  Be vulnerable. Share your struggles. The more open and honest you are with others about how you have been challenged, the more opportunities you have to share about what God has done! As a dear friend and mentor once told me, “We’re all in this boat together. We just need to know we’re not alone”. And chances are(as I’ve learned) you aren’t.

What about you? What is your calling today? This week? In this season of life? Who are your “people”? What is your burden? Surrender it to the Father.

He is more than able to keep you from falling…

Featured

Why Bother?

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

Gather. You’ve seen this word a million times. Hanging over the dining room table at your friend’s house, on the wall of the fellowship hall at your church, painted on artfully arranged coffee table blocks at your favorite cafe. And yet, I think we’ve all taken it’s meaning for granted. The chaos of this past year has somehow managed to seep into 2021 and we’re losing steam, aren’t we? For most of us, the idea of starting fresh held so many promises. But as so often happens, the shine of the new year is already blemished, and that lofty thought of starting over has lost its appeal.

This past Sunday, I was reminded of the need–my need–to be with people. This is a confession, of sorts—one that this introvert never imagined making. But here I am, admitting my dependence. I–the one who is very easily “spooked” by people–need people. But not just anyone and everyone–the people of God. And this is something I feel in my bones especially now. Over the past year, we’ve seen violence, death, sickness, fighting and everything in between. It has taken my breath away more often than not. But a surprising grief has overcome me–trickling in carefully and consistently the longer I push it down. This is a sadness that can’t be realized until it becomes deafening. It has moved me to my knees, and given me a longing for home.

When I consider what the people of God have endured throughout history, I am humbled at their perseveration through perseverance. The ancient heroes of the faith were not unfamiliar with suffering. They knew it well. It surrounded every breath, step and thought. Yet they were unafraid. Some experienced the loss of family members and friends–some even suffered unto death. But this was not a reason to cower in fear. In fact–it prompted a renewed vigor to remain steadfast, to pray without ceasing, to rejoice and to be thankful.

This is not so today. As I’ve observed the people of God–my own heart included–I sense a heartbreaking spirit of fear and apathy. Those words are not often linked, but here nothing pairs better. 2020 was horrendous. I never want to relive it, and I recognize that so many have suffered loss in ways I could never understand. I am familiar with my own demons, and understand the weight of hard days. There have been seasons where hopelessness drags on within and I have to fight to consider whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, commendable, lovely, excellent and worthy of praise.

But the truth that continues echoing in my mind–particularly in those dark moments–is: are we not meant to suffer? The King of Kings emptied himself that He might bring us into complete communion with God. In His perfect goodness, Jesus came, suffered and died. Isn’t it a gift to endure suffering well that He might be glorified? And yet I see fear encircling everything we do, threatening to overtake our lives. We do not serve. We do not meet together. We do not look for opportunities to gather and worship. All because we live parlayzed. I confess that I have even avoided opportunities that I could have taken because of this very thing.

But on Sunday I was gently reminded that this is not who we are. I recognize that every circumstance and conviction is different, so please do not hear me condemn. I realize that wisdom must be at the foundation of every decision; we must live cautiously(please don’t do anything foolish)!

But I am pleading: if at all possible–could we make it a priority to be together? To worship together? To serve together?

redeemingthemundane

Isolation is not healthy, nor is it really necessary for everyone. As far as it depends on you, could you prayerfully consider joining your local Body of Believers?

This year has already left us feeling defeated and discouraged. And this world is full of brokenness. But this is not where we place our hope! The Gospel was, is and always will be enough. And the Lord promises that–although we will suffer–He will hold us fast.

We can rest in who He is, and we can lean into the promises of His word alongside biblical community as often as we’re able. We will suffer, but we don’t have to endure it alone.

redeemingthemundane 
7 But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. 8 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— 10 that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11 that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.  --Phil. 3:7-11
23 Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. 24 And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, 25 not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.---Hebrews 10:23-25

16 Rejoice always, 17 pray without ceasing, 18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.---1 Thess. 5:16-18

9 Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. 10 Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. 11 Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit,[a] serve the Lord. 12 Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. 13 Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.
--Romans 12:9-13
Featured

[RESOURCE] Friday!

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

Big Truths for Little Hearts

THIS is one of my favorite new resources out there—a new podcast about BIG truths for little ones! The first mini-series focuses on hymns of old, and the stories behind their authors! Each episode is filled with scripture, stories and songs—check it out and “subscribe” to hear more weekly! SHAMELESS PLUG: I started this show with my sister as a means of connecting our little ones to heroes of the faith and the God who inspired them. It has been SUCH a joy to produce and we’re having a blast! Our prayer is that it is a blessing to others, as well! Run and check it out!

[RESOURCE] Friday!

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

Today I’m sharing a few more Christmas gems with you all. Hopefully you and your families can enjoy these resources together!

1. Rain for Roots

These guys have produced several fantastic albums. In the last few years they’ve released an advent album and we LOVE it! They melodies are filled with timeless truth and soft rhythms to facilitate a peaceful atmosphere while also reminding the kiddos of rich truths found in scripture. This album is one of our faves. BONUS: it looks like this year they’re doing a sing-a-long!

2. Christmas Uncut

This one breaks down the character and context of the Christmas story in a way that is fun and interactive. We like to read this one every so often to help the kids understand the “who, what, when, where and why” of Christmas.

3. One Wintry Night

We just started this one the other night and the girls are HOOKED! Each beautifully illustrated section(the artist took 4 years to complete the pictures!) captivates the listener with intricate details following a story of a boy named Jesse who learns about the history of the Christmas story. It is a picture book, but broken down into 1-2 page chapters to be read over dinner, sitting by the fire or snuggled up at bedtime.

4. Come Let Us Adore Him

This is what I chose for our family to read around the table for the advent season. Each day features a short meditation by the author as well as a section of questions and activities for the kids. It is a great resource for entire families!

Happy family time!

redeemingthemundane

[RESOURCE] Friday!

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

Every Friday I’m hoping to share some of my favorite books/albums/articles/etc. with you guys! One of my favorite things about being a mama is finding good material for life at home with my precious littles. This month I’ll be sharing some of our most loved Christmas books! These are usually shared around the dinner table, or for breakfast every morning. I try to read to my kiddos daily, and it has been SO much fun incorporating rich truths that capture the imagination and stimulate the brain.

SO…without further adieu…here are today’s!

This book is absolutely amazing! But not Christmas-themed, right? WRONG! The author, Sally Lloyd-Jones offers a FREE advent printable every December including ornaments that your littles can color + cut out themselves! The book follows the line of Jesus and every story points back to the truth that WE are a part of God’s BIG story! My girls love it and your kiddos will, too! We always enjoy hanging out ornaments on the “Jesse Tree” every year using these stories.

This next resource is just a sweet, simple tale of Christmas. It’s about a little bear who recalls the wonder of the Christmas season through sensory experiences–namely, smell. My girls are always really invested in scratching every page to follow his journey. Some of my favorite scents include Pine trees and peppermint! This one just gets us into the Christmas mood every time! It was also one of my favorites when I was a wee bairn.

Happy reading, friends!

redeemingthemundane

Teach me, O Lord, the way of your statutes and I will keep it to the end

Psalm 119:33

I woke up lazily this morning, for superficial reasons, of course. My bed was warm; my toes toasty after a long night of sound sleep, and the weather outside truly was “frightful”. But there was a sense of dread forming as I considered the bleakness of the world around me. And I didn’t want to face it. Naturally I had to make the choice between getting out of bed(starting the day) or relishing a quiet, comfortable moment. Which would you choose?

It is these mundane lazy moments that often prompt reflection for me. I know, I know…laziness = reflection?

But there is simple beauty in slowly digesting the day one breath at a time. [for me] It’s a reminder to keep treading along; to maintain perspective.

redeemingthemundane

I often imagine that faithful tortoise slinking along the tracks, giving no thought to the miles logged, or the potential difficulty ahead. He just kept moving towards the goal: the end of the race.

I think, sometimes, I am more like the hare: desperately racing through each day, never mindful of the extraordinary, ordinary moments. Tryng to survive rather than thrive. It is then that I miss the momentary blessings in each breath.

But truth is the ever piercing arrow that daily aligns my weary soul: 

I have chosen the way of faithfulness, I set your rules before me... Teach me O Lord, the way of your statutes 
and I will keep them to the end  (keep them as my reward) 
~ Psalm 119:30, 33

Isn’t it funny how a single footnote changes everything? I had never before noticed the asterisk by verse 30: keep your [precepts] as my reward.

God has provided the Word as the source all truth(Psalm 119:160) and this is our life-giving hope(Psalm 119:81)! When our souls desire any other thing, we will never know peace. This truth gives life, hope, and sustaining grace to remain faithful to the very end. When our hearts wearily wrestle with the many dangers toils and snares of a world full of divided affections, we must fix our eyes on Christ! We must continue[by God’s grace] to choose faithfulness, to set His ways before our flickering eyes. And we must ever be mindful of the reward that is in knowing Him and gazing upon His perfect goodness forever into eternity(Revelation 7:9-12)

For though our weakening eyes strain to see light, the light itself grows nearer and brighter with every faithful step.

redeemingthemundane

The End is the Reward

Featured / Walden World / Leave a comment

Finding Light in Everyday Moments

/ Walden World / Leave a comment

She teaches me daily. Since day 1, she has been our sunshine-seeker. She has always quietly embraced transition with an ease I sometimes envy. And she loves wholeheartedly. I remember one blustery winter morning in VT. These were the kinds of mornings when all you really wanted was a day in bed. You woke up with frigid fingers and toes, even beneath a bundle of blankets, and the responsibilities of the day squashed any attempt to burrow. I was barely waking up to this sensation when her tiny frame wandered into my bedroom.

“I can’t find it, mama”, this little voice beckoned to my sleepily. There was an urgency in her tone despite the drowsy hour. After a series of questions and–eventually–my departure from the pursuit of warmth, I realized that she was searching for the sun. It was a cold day in every sense of the word, and the sunshine—her favorite friend—was hiding behind snow clouds. She was devastated. Little fingers fumbled over my curtains as she desperately tried to roll them higher because “maybe he’s just hiding”. But he did not [and would not] emerge for quite some time. Her faith that the sunshine would appear still, never waned.

This is how she has always been. She’s my encourager when she senses spirits are low, a peacemaker when there is familial tension, and a hugger when the need arises(and sometimes even when the need isn’t fully realized to everyone else).

In her bitty years, this looked like sun-searching and big, wet kisses. And now in this season, it’s deeper. She gives everything in everything–the way she loves, friendship, a task, habits…everything. Sometimes this means that something with which she’s become so familiar(like sucking her thumb) is harder to break. But even then, her optimism doesn’t fade. She’s bright, cheerful and fighting to believe the best.

Recently, I’ve seen glimmers of spiritual depth. She has always been my caring, compassionate one. Often quick to step in with a hopeful solution or comment, she believes wholeheartedly. And I’m thankful I get to watch that develop as she grows. I can mark this by several new data points:

A few months ago, we attended the funeral of a precious friend. This was her first, and she wondered aloud what was to be expected and what behavior might be appropriate. We talked at length, and when we were finally there, I was blown away. In the flurry of my own responsibilities, seeking to interact with others, cleaning when needed, leading singing, etc, I hadn’t heard how the day was going for my children. Later, I was approached by the daughter of our recently deceased friend who shared that speaking with our daughter was a needed balm; a highlight of the day. When I shared the story at home, she remarked that she “just walked around talking to people”.

“I went up to folks and said, ‘hi’. My name is _____. What’s yours?”

A few nights ago, I took two of my daughters to the theatre. We learned that the main character was struggling vocally, and so we prayed. Afterward, when he was standing alone as other cast members were shining with excitement, my sunshine-seeker walked up to him alongside a friend and made a point to tell him, “you did a great job”.

And finally, today. You somehow learned that we have new neighbors with a little girl about your age, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when she rang our doorbell asking for you. All afternoon you played only to wander back inside a after a little while. You were–again–searching. When I inquired, you mentioned a Bible, because “I want to tell her the Easter story”.

My darling girl, your courage to look for the light has always taken my breath away. It is foreign to me—your relentless tenacity towards hope. I pray that the Father uses this to protect and preserve you, no matter what the season. You shine so brightly, and I cannot wait to watch how God continues to work.

When I Am Afraid: Lessons from my Daughter [Psalm 56]

/ Walden World / Leave a comment

“Mama, I had another bad dream. But I didn’t want to wake you because I know how hard you work and how badly you need sleep”

This was a recent comment from one of my daughters after another hard night. I have always encouraged all of my children to come—whenever—to my bedside. But this daughter–often the one who doesn’t want to inconvenience or burden others–did not come. At first, I felt sad. I wanted her to know that no time was an inconvenience. But when she mentioned that she had prayed and fallen asleep[probably nestled underneath one of her favorite books]I knew she was OK. Two things occurred to me in that moment:

  1. I’m thankful she didn’t come to me first.
  2. Trust is a discipline.

In our world today, fear is on trend. Especially in the midst of an election season and an ever-shifting culture, one has reason to feel unsteady. There are wars and rumors of wars, floods, riots, death…Not to mention the regularly unwholesome discourse I’ve seen on social media. The world is fragile, broken and deteriorating right before our eyes. Of course there is cause for fear!

In Psalm 56:1 David cries out, Be gracious to me, O God, for man tramples on me; all day long an attacker oppresses me; my enemies trample on me all day long, for many attack me proudly.

At first glance, this sounds hopeless. David, the anointed king of Israel is on the run from a man who desires his death. He has fled to a Philistine king in hopes of finding refuge, but quickly realizes that this king knows his true identity. His only defense at this point is to fake madness, “making marks on the door and letting saliva run down his beard” 1 Samuel 21:15)

And the Philistines–usually described as an aggressive, war-mongering people–were evil. So when David speaks of being attacked and trampled by many enemies, he wasn’t exaggerating!

But the text doesn’t stop there. God, in his kindness, has given us more:

When I am afraid,I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?

Psalm 56:2

Immediately, there is a transition. It is as if David knows he could spiral[to use popular verbiage] so he must discipline his mind[and therefore, speech].

John MacArthur says it this way,

This psalm expresses the kind of confidence in the Lord that believers should exude when they find themselves in terrifying circumstances. David’s natural reaction was to panic(vv. 3, 4, 11). But he demonstrates in this psalm that the believer can replace potential terror with the composure of trust.

MacArthur Bible Commentary

But in verses 5-7, it’s as if David returns to the panic.

All day long they injure my cause; all their thoughts are against me for evil. They stir up strife, they lurk; they watch my steps as they have waited for my life. For their crime, will they escape? In wrath, cast down the peoples O God!

What is he saying here? He has gone from reciting truth to reflecting on his terrors; on his enemies! And what fruit has this reflection produced? Anxiety. Worry. A desire for vengeance.

In short: nothing good.

Are you tired yet? Just reading David’s struggle[quite literally] for sanity leaves me feeling weary.

Haven’t we all been here before? Haven’t we wrestled with our thoughts, circumstances and feelings until we’re absolutely listless. Until we are weary and ragged and not even sleep restores?

David doesn’t stay here, though. He recounts God’s specific goodness– that He has kept count of his tossings and tears. He remembers he isn’t isolated.

David then moves into a posture of remembering truth, and cultivating praise and thanksgiving. Herein lies this discipline of trust(vv. 10-13)–

In God, whose word I praise, in the Lord, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can man do to me? I must perform my vows to you, O God; I will render thank offerings to you. For you have delivered my soul from death, yes my feet from falling, that I may walk before God in the light of my life.

I’m encouraged that David faced terror, too. He knew danger. He wrestled often with the threat of hunger, attacks, betrayal, mutilation, abuse, etc…sometimes to the point of death. In some seasons, David could have been tempted to live in fear. David was human, too. And there were times when he doubted the very nature of the God to whom his heart was knit.

But the Lord gave David three mercies in the midst of this suffering:

  1. His presence
  2. courage to carry on
  3. A malleable, yet disciplined heart

Number 1 is obvious, isn’t it? David is groaning before the Lord. Right at the beginning, David approaches God with questions and complaints. He has raw honesty. He is crippled with anxiety.

And David does not wallow. He recalls truth:

  • The Lord knows my suffering(v. 8)
  • The Lord will have vengeance(v. 9)
  • The Lord is for me(v. 9b)
  • I have been delivered from eternal death(v. 13)

What’s the common thread? THE LORD.

David shifts his focus. And this shift produces heart change:

  • praise(v.10)
  • trust(v.11)
  • courage (v.11)
  • thankfulness(v. 12)

Yes, I have felt fear so intense that it threatens to consume my being. But the glorious truth about scripture is it’s sufficiency. We can always go to God and to His word knowing that we will find truth and hope. And scripture so rightly informs our minds that we are not left disparaging.

So even though I was initially saddened by my daughter’s hesitance, I’m thankful she went to the Father. I’m grateful she certainly has come to me on other occasions. But the sobering truth is I won’t always be around. My prayer is that the Eternal God would be the refuge(Deut. 33:27) to which she does run.

And I pray that she trusts God and his word so desperately that she knows how to respond when the harder days come.

God’s Faithfulness in Marriage: 12 Years of Electing Love

/ Walden World / Leave a comment

A few Sundays ago, we celebrated 12 years of marriage. 13 years together, but 12 of sharing life–homes, cars, jobs, children. My husband very eloquently surmised this as a milestone because, “We completed 12 years of grade school, so it’s like we’re graduating”. 🙂 How romantic!

In many ways, it was just another ordinary day. It was Sunday–the busiest for our family. Full of meetings, singing, interactions with the community God has provided here in Maine. On this day, like every other Sunday, we were awakened early by the sound of our littlest. This is a hallmark of the day for us both. Like always, everyone ended up in our queen-sized bed(which seems to be shrinking!) and I eventually slipped out to begin the day’s routine. Coffee(or tea, if you’re me), breakfast, and hurried preparation for Sunday worship. In the midst of the morning’s rush our eldest sneaked into the kitchen and whispered, Happy Anniversary, Mama. You know, my favorite part of August is watching your video. Tearfully, I hugged this one who has recently become one of our most sentimental children and tried to recall when we started what has become tradition.

It must have started back in our first year–before anyone else came along. My own Mama, knowing how bittersweet moving away from my beloved Southern roots had been, sent a big box of green peanuts. All the way from Georgia! This was(for those who may not know) for the purpose of creating one of our favorite snacks–boiled peanuts. I remember sitting back on our porch in San Diego waiting as the smell of salty water sifted through our first[tiny] real home. When they were finally finished, we relished the treat while while watching our wedding footage. It was a sweet memory for us, and is somehow now a tradition embroidered in the fabric of our family. We must have had several pounds this year, but the peanuts were gone within just a few days!

As I reflected on the day–complete with a celebratory meal, homemade cards from the kids and(of course) our special viewing party–I would not have changed anything. If you would have told me 12 years ago that we’d be here–far up in the Northeast(having survived almost 10 years of NE winters!) with four precious children[and a dog]in tow, multiple moves and jobs behind us, I may not have believed it. The sweetest part(besides the gift of the little tribe of souls we’ve been given) for me has been the growth. I realized Sunday–as I was called out of a service to change our youngest–where my husband was preaching as the pastor of our church[this was a particular highlight of the day!]– I never would have dreamed we’d be here. Not even just our geographic “here”, but all of it.

In our anniversary card, Tyler wrote the passage he has prayed over our marriage from the beginning–

 I will give them one heart and one way, that they may fear me forever, for their own good and the good of their children after them. 40 I will make with them an everlasting covenant, that I will not turn away from doing good to them. And I will put the fear of me in their hearts, that they may not turn from me. 41 I will rejoice in doing them good, and I will plant them in this land in faithfulness, with all my heart and all my soul. Jeremiah 32:39-41

It is by God’s faithfulness that this is our here. That passage in particular is speaking of God’s chosen people facing an impending judgment through exile. This was because of their own foolishness in pursuit of something that would never satisfy. They were overthrown by outside forces and obstinate; refusing the Lord’s laws and commands(which were for their very good). But the Lord promises restoration. Even amidst the pronouncement of a sure and coming judgment, the Lord repeatedly promises mercy. He assures the people through this very vulnerable prophet [Jeremiah] that peace will come.

As I considered this, I was struck by the many times we’ve failed–in marriage, life choices, parenting, etc. But God is always faithful. In His kindness, He has carefully and tenderly preserved our lives over these last 12 years. And we have nothing on which to stand except His very character. It has not been through any merit of our own, or even any of our most meager efforts. It is all by the sovereign hand of His might and will. This is exactly what the passage speaks of–the Israelites were not chosen because any good existed within them. In fact, it was the exact opposite. They had rebelled wickedly and decidedly. But they were chosen. And God–in His divine affection-promised to: focus their hearts to fear Him, produce a harvest of righteousness for generations, to love them covenantally, and to continue doing them good[forever], that they would be rooted in faithfulness.

I had always read that as–the Lord will make his people faithful. And I don’t think that is entirely wrong. But there was a little whisper of human merit in that belief. It now seems to me that it is only always the faithfulness of God in which we are rooted. He continually pursues, provides and protects–keeping us ever in step with His Spirit(Deut. 31:8, Psalm 145:20).

And so, as we sat there rejoicing over the last 12 years, I couldn’t feel anything but weepy. Because I fail miserably more often than not. I am impatient, selfish and grumpy[particularly in the evenings]. I am a melancholy, overly-sensitive and critical jerk sometimes, but the God of the Universe chose me. I couldn’t tell you why, honestly.Except for the merciful doctrine of election. And as we stumble along together for many, many, many[I pray!] more decades together I am grateful to cling[however feebly] to his “mighty and outstretched arm” (Deut. 26:8).

Soli Deo Gloria

God from the beginning chose His people; when the unnavigated ether was yet unfanned by the wing of a single angel, when space was shoreless, or else unborn, when universal silence reigned, and not a voice or whisper shocked the solemnity of silence, when there was no being, and no motion, no time, and naught but God Himself, alone in His eternity. Charles Spurgeon

What They Really Need

/ Walden World / Leave a comment

There’s a popular reel floating around on the internet with the caption , To you it’s just another ordinary day, but to them it’s their whole childhood.

At first glance, I agreed. After all, shouldn’t we seek to fill these moments with vibrant, creative splashes in an attempt to transform our everyday ordinary into extraordinary. The particular video I watched featured a perfectly polished mama making muffins with her tiny daughter(who somehow emerged from the kitchen unscathed!). I saw another one boasting the same sentiment featuring a little boy enamored by a new sensory bin carefully curated by his parents. The scenarios were enchanting, and [if I’m honest] a bit intimidating[read: guilt-inducing].Immediately I mentally inventoried all of our educational items and started to plan my own sensory experiences for the kids and our magical days. This wasn’t a bad thing. I’m not degrading the heart behind the message. It seems–at least to me– that these mamas are encouraging us all to stop and consider the brevity of each day with our precious ones. And it is true:what seems like a day full of chores and neverending parenting to us is their childhood. And of course I want my children to reflect on these formative years and remember the good. BUT a familiar call echoed in my mind as I considered this. In the midst of my pressing urgency to create a counterfeit magic for the kids, I remembered what was most impactful in my own foundational years. It wasn’t a perfect experience or day. It was all of the moments in between–hearing my mama’s voice permeate the house in her very ordinary task of washing dishes. Walking in to the inviting aroma of my dad’s food steaming from the kitchen after a draining rehearsal. Reluctantly accepting my mama’s embrace in the confusion of my teenage years because , “physical touch is important”. Watching through the window as my dad–weary from a long day’s work–whistled to the tune of the lawn mower. Drifting drowsily asleep to the sound of my parents sharing another silly story–laughing together in the living room after what must have been another full ministry day. I can vividly remember these moments, for these were the ones that filled our days. And I’m sure that there were magical moments, too. In fact, I know there were(this is why we make those photo albums, right?!)! But my most treasured times were the ones when life was just happening for all of us. It wasn’t always picturesque(and let’s be honest–social media isn’t an authentic portrayal of life anyway), and it wasn’t always comfortable. There were probably days when the call to shepherd my little soul seemed a challenge insurmountable. I probably did help my mama in the kitchen, and I guarantee I caused more chaos than calm(because baking with littles is MESSY)! And I’m sure that both of my parents strived to curate beautiful experiences to incite wonder and cultivate curiosity, but the most meaningful moments existed when I got to observe obedience in the lives of my parents.

They weren’t living to give me the perfect childhood. Instead, they were seeking to live for the glory of God. Loving me was a part of that, certainly. But it was only part of the whole.

redeemingmundane

I was not the center of their world then just as my children do not consume mine now. At the heartbeat of everything they did was the glory of Christ. This steadfast mindset pervaded our home and punctuated every thought. That ensured that even our most discouraging days were not without hope. If we bickered, there was reconciliation. If we faced hardship, there was a call to endure. If we failed(each other or in life) there was still peace.Even in our messiest moments, my parents could rest in light of God’s Gospel promises(and they were careful to instruct us in those promises, too). They would admit that it was imperfect(and no one can boast otherwise), but to me it was a stunning testament to God’s mercy and grace.

My children don’t need a tidy home, a perfect day adventuring or even a special shared experience with me as much as they need to be pointed to the Faithful God who created them. Of course, there is nothing wrong with enjoying fun-filled days or basking in the flow of a peaceful, engaging day. But let us not forget that in our hard, ugly moments(when your family’s rhythm is just off and the days feel long)–our Father remains the same.The beauty is there, too. He is just as pleased with us in the mundane moments as He is in our ambition to enliven other days. It is not because of us, but rather because of who He is(2 Tim. 2:13, Numbers 23:19,etc)

I’m so thankful for parents who modeled that in my beginnings(and still do now). It is good and right that we live every day to the glory of God(and sometimes that might mean your sensory boxes are ON POINT)! But on the other days, when you wrestle with feeling insufficient, rest in the freedom of living to this chief end:

We do not segment our lives, giving some time to God, some to our business or schooling, while keeping parts to ourselves. The idea is to live all of our lives in the presence of God, under the authority of God, and for the honor and glory of God. That is what the Christian life is all about.” – RC Sproul

“I am not what I ought to be, I am not what I want to be, I am not what I hope to be in another world; but still I am not what I once used to be, and by the grace of God I am what I am”
― John Newton

8 He will also keep you firm to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. 9 God is faithful, who has called you into fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. - 1 Corinthians 1:8-9

They Went to the Beach.

/ Walden World / Leave a comment

Back in October, my extended family left for our annual family vacation. This is a trip in which I have not participated for the last 8ish years, and somehow–that week–not being there felt different. In some ways I felt the same familiar ache of living so far away, but in others there was a decided resolve in it. A resolve that [despite my deepest heart yearnings to be with those who loved me first] I would not wallow, but would instead choose to be present.

I realize that this may sound trite or over-popularized. One night during that week, I was invited into several different scenarios and thus felt torn in many directions. But there was[for reasons I can’t explain] an echo of that same longing I knew too well and had battled continually. I wanted nearness. I wanted familial intimacy. I wanted to remember the warmth of being known and loved, no matter what. I desperately wanted to be in multiple places, but I knew that they needed me. They being my precious ones. Daddy was out of town, and I sensed this rare opportunity to just be with them.

Also during that beach week—while my family was far away, I felt the pressure of being home–the constant need to be doing dishes, laundry, cooking meals…not to mention investing emotionally, spiritually and physically in the lives of my little tribe[including nurturing littles who need thoughtful, biblical redirection hourly…sometimes moment-by-moment!]…Some days I do feel weary…and often over-stimulated to a sinful point. But I set apart this day–amidst my own personal weariness–to cherish them.

So we went to the movies. Since there are 6 members of our family, this is a rare occurrence. At home in our daily mundane, I saw my own familiar ache in their little eyes and heard it in countless moments of frustration. Getting out of the house just made sense. So we did it. We journeyed over an hour’s length to see a special movie unavailable in our area, and enjoyed popcorn and candy while lounging in reclining movie seats[a luxury in and of itself]. It was loud and a little chaotic, but joyfully so. My littlest bounced up and down in the seat and eventually landed in my arms, my son grinned from ear to ear providing colorful commentary(which worked better since few others were seated among us) and my big girls beamed. Afterwards we indulged in Chik-fil-a[a personal favorite, though not all of my babes share my enthusiasm].

There was something sacred in it, I think. Not in the movie or the fried chicken. But in the prompt to seize the hours. Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t concern myself with chores or the daily to-do list. I didn’t worry about what wasn’t accomplished or our present messiness.  I just enjoyed them. We just enjoyed each other, in fact.

This was a needed reminder to me of Zephaniah’s words in chapter 3:

The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.

Zephaniah 3:17

Although these words were written to the people of Judah, the beauty of the Word is it’s accuracy, relevance and reliability. The Lord’s authoritative voice is just as true and definitive as it was then.

In the busyness of motherhood, I often forget to delight. But the Lord–in His holy perfection–does not. Somehow He simultaneously upholds and rules while also harboring an intimate knowledge of his beloved. And so–in the same vein that He is both concerned and connected with all of my needs, longings and shortcoming–He is also just enjoying me. What’s more, he is singing[some versions add loudly] over me!

These precious ones are growing so quickly. And this day back in October was ordinary–like most of my days–but the Lord used those mundane moments to bring me[yet again] to recall His goodness and the personal call to reflect upon the sweetness in watching how He redeems ordinary.

10 YEARS

/ Walden World / Leave a comment

10 years ago, I was preparing to marry a Naval Officer. We graduated college, he commissioned and we planned a wedding for mid-August with a cross-country move to the West Coast shortly afterward. The Navy kept us apart that summer, but I remember how much sweeter the day was because of it. When we were reunited, it was busy and [a little] chaotic, but mostly just humbling. We saw precious family members and treasured friends come together to celebrate what God had done. Everyone squeezed into the beautiful church where so many other foundational moments in my life occurred to pray over us and watch as our lives became one.

I remember the hurried joy of the time. Rising at dawn because I just couldn’t sleep any longer. The quiet calm of watching the hairdresser sweep my hair up into the prettiest bun with my big sister alongside. Getting ready with my favorite friends. Reading a note from my future husband. Giggling as we all primped and posed for a never-ending-list of pictures. Tearfully watching and waiting as people I loved trickled into the sanctuary to hand-picked accompaniment. Praying one last time with just Mom and Dad. And, finally…walking towards my very best friend as most of us held back tears. We ended the day the way it began—with people. We danced heartily, ate contentedly and laughed. It was wonderfully loud and crazy. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Today, I awoke in the early hours to the sound of our 8 month old daughter. We quietly padded into the kitchen bypassing her two older sisters sat sleepily on the couch, their brother sleeping soundly in a rare morning of calm.

We have moved 4 times. Owned 4 different cars. Worked many different jobs. And made many wonderful friends. Most importantly we have 4 precious children. The Naval Officer I married is now a pastor. And I—once a student of the Theatre am now pursuing Biblical Counseling as a stay-at-home mom. He has the privilege to work his dream job. And I have the privilege of educating our kiddos(one of MY dreams). We live somewhere we never could’ve imagined. And we wouldn’t have it any other way. The Lord has surely blessed us abundantly more than we could have asked or imagined (because we really never COULD have imagined all of this).

I loved our wedding day. But even though it was one of the greatest of my life, I wouldn’t go back. Where we are now is too sweet, and the Lord has been too good for me to even wish I could re-live it. Even though I enjoy reminiscing, how much better it is to recall God’s goodness and grace in our lives! And share it with our precious ones.

So today we will have another wonderfully loud and crazy day. But not because we’re at the biggest party ever with our closest friends and family. Because we’re with our own little God-given tribe. Tyler will go to work while we play at home. Tonight we will enjoy boiled peanuts(a tradition) while watching the wedding with those same little ones. It’s nothing extravagant, but it is the life God has provided and I am nothing short of grateful.

All glory be to God for 10 years with you, my greatest blessing from the Lord(besides Jesus)!

“Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord! Let the earth hear his voice! Praise the Lord, praise the Lord! Let the people rejoice! O, come to the Father through Jesus the Son and give him the glory—great things He hath done!”

| S E R V A N T |

/ Walden World / Leave a comment

I haven’t said much about our time in Maine here because these last two weeks have been busy! Our days are filled with unpacking, picnic playdates at the park, exploring our neighborhood, etc. Of course my sweet littles are processing still—which sometimes looks like bickering, outbursts of tears, silly moods, needing more “mommy time” or anything in between. We have tried to shepherd their hearts tenderly(with the help of so many precious new friends and MUCH prayer) but some days I’m tired!

This last week a new friend recommended “couch time” every morning. It’s where we sing, read(about cultures, poets, authors), recite and learn. It is simply a time to sit together in stillness and absorb before we dive into the chaos of the day.

This past week we’ve discussed Philippians 2 and the idea of serving like Jesus. We’ve made a game of yelling, “servant alert” every time we see(which delights our littles to no end)!

Today—when my middle girl and I had to miss corporate worship because our sweet boy has a cold, we were disappointed. I was here at the house with three under 4 who sorrowfully watched their big sis walk to the church(which is right across our backyard) with tearful eyes.

Throughout the morning I took the opportunity to catch up on housework. It’s sometimes easier for me to busy myself if I’m feeling particularly down. I tried hard to keep things lighthearted in the midst of missing fellowship. But my middle must’ve known, because she stayed in her room boasting of “surprises” and “don’t come in, Mommy”! I figured maybe she was creating a new look with her dress-up clothes ☺️

But…

as she led me to her room—eyes bright and shimmering— I couldn’t believe what I saw. We stood there together as she whispered, “I cleaned it, Mama”.
And no, it’s not perfect. But it’s her best. As I verbally took in every detail, she beamed.

Mamas, the Lord knows our hearts. He knows our deepest needs and desires. In the weary moments when I’m wondering if any effort I make will bear fruit, the Lord graciously bears me up with the promise that nothing done in His name is in vain.

1 Thessalonians 15:58