A Wonderful Life

Today I got to carry you on a walk, in which you usually set a pretty fast pace without many rests along the way But today, you needed me you reached up with open arms and without any words I knew So, I picked you up and felt the beauty of your weight in my arms and the heat from our exercise emanating forth you snuggled your sweaty head nuzzled into my neck and whispered "mucky" I said "I love you too, mucky" And I carried you in silence in beauty with gratitude and you grounded me to this moment right now as your strong mama in whose arms you find so many things My son, in whose heart I see the joy of the Lord in whose eyes, I see my own in whose heart, I sense such an amazing knowing that I cannot articulate, because I don't fully understand it yet, myself Today, I helped you take a load off your feet and your growing legs and rest your tired body. You helped my heart soar and my soul know the peace of God in such an i

Today, I'm reminded of how important margin is (thank you for years of teaching on this, Pastor Rob Jacobson). The time to rest, reflect, create, be restored, prepare for what's next, do nothing. To dream, listen, not be driven by to-do lists and tasks that will literally take up all of your time if you let it. Time to ask God, "what do you have for me here, right now?" One of the gifts God gives me is these reminders to share with other people, when I also need to hear it. This week has had a theme already and it's only Wednesday. The theme? Live with margin and joy. Have some fun, enjoy the things you enjoy, learn to love who God made you to be, relax. Be a friend to yourself. Stop being so harsh with yourself, you don't treat anyone else like that! Cut yourself some slack. You are doing an amazing job and you handle a lot, a lot of the time. It's okay to take breaks.  It's necessary, good and important to take breaks! You will be a better, h

Written August 12, 2018. This probably doesn't sound very "Christian" of me, but for a long time, I couldn't stand "Missionary Sunday" at church. You know, the one where a missionary tells of the amazing things they have seen God do and how God sent them to do such and such and then the church prays for them? Yeah, those. I think I might have even hated them for a season, and would leave the service to avoid the pain it stirred deep within me. In my early twenties, I thought I was called to be a missionary (in the traditional sense of the word) to college students, along with my husband. We went through six weeks of training, worked hard on fund-raising for over a year, had countless late nights shuttling to various meetings and casting the vision we had received from the Lord. Throughout that season, we continued to offer the calling to vocational ministry back to the Lord, seeking affirmation or redirection. For the entire year, when we would ask, &quo

Originally posted  here . It’s been a long season of quiet sadness for me over the last seven months. A really long season. I have struggled with depression in a way that I never had before (read more  here , if you’d like) and am just now beginning to emerge, by the grace of God. And I am so relieved. Over the past two years, God has sent me bald eagles for encouragement and as a reminder that he is with me in whatever I am facing, celebrating, grieving, or otherwise going through. Sometimes I see them frequently (usually when things are more challenging) and sometimes it’s less frequent, but it’s definitely been “our thing” and it speaks to my heart so intimately. I was having a particularly difficult Sunday morning trying to get to church early with a 3½-year-old in tow in order to practice with the band, singing my second duet at our new church. I slipped and almost fell on my daughter on the ice, and barely caught us against the cold car door. Then I realized the scraper for the w