So far.

If there were words, I would use them. So far, I have been rendered speechless, full of simultaneous peace and pain. There is so much, and I am so little.

And yet.

1 Corinthians 12:9

Hungry.

 

Driving into work this afternoon, I heard a Tenth Avenue North song talking about God being there in a variety of moments, and it included this line: "The times when you're hungry and tempted to steal..."

An involuntary, "Mmm..." escaped my lips.

I'm never physically hungry. Certainly not so that I'm tempted to steal food. Praise God for that.

But I hunger in different ways. And I "steal" from places I shouldn't to try to satiate that hunger. It's becoming more and more obvious that when I need rest or refilling, I steal. I shop or browse the internet mindlessly. I obsess about baby things or organizing a closet or homeschooling or any number of other things. I worry.

All of that ends up making my issues worse. I'm hungrier.

Someday, maybe I'll learn. Maybe I'll learn to seek nourishment from where it truly comes.

Knowing and doing... Two very different things.

Help me, Lord, to seek You first and to go with you with my areas of emptiness and lack. I need You to refill me so that I can be poured out again. There are lots of people -- little and big -- who are counting on my ability to count on You.

Getting out of the way.

(twenty)12.

If I had a dollar for every post I've read about resolutions and goals in the past two weeks, I would be a rich, rich woman. I have several lists myself, to be honest. And on New Year's Day, I was praying, telling God all that I hoped to accomplish in several different categories when I said something that the Holy Spirit used to get my attention.

"I know I've planned to complete many of these things before and failed, but this time is different. I just need to get out of my own way."

It just sorta came out.

I. My. Own.

As soon as I said it, I stopped, my soul knowing before my brain what was coming.

"Wrong. You need to get out of My way."

Gulp.

It quickly became one of those moments in which I instinctively went to my knees. Silent, listening, where I should have been from the beginning.

New Year's Resolution 2012: Get out of His way.

*****

Because I do crave structure, I am going to be working through Simple Mom's e-book: "One Bite at a Time: 52 Projects for Making Life Simpler" and blogging about it here. Many of the projects are already on my 2012 to-do list, and Tsh breaks everything down beautifully in easy-to-digest bites. Look for the first post later this week.

I've had the book since August, and read through it several times. I have no question that it's awesome. If you think you'd like to join me on the journey, won't you click the link listed above (I'll include it in all my posts) or the button on my sidebar when you purchase the book? I'm an affiliate and will receive a portion of the sale if you buy using the links on this blog. Thanks!

grace.

i'm adding music to the old ipod shuffles we're filling for the kids for their christmas presents. i have ellie's full, and i'm testing it to be sure everything loaded. the second song to play is from this album, the one that played while i was in labor with lylah. a swirl of feelings come over me as i remember these peaceful lullabies laden with scripture playing the soundtrack to one of the hardest, most intense things i've ever done.

and i think of how God's grace is like that everyday: ever-present through our highest highs and our lowest lows.

HE IS NEVER ABSENT FROM US.

no. matter. what.

grace surrounds. always. a soundtrack to each breath, no matter how ragged or labored. He hears every cry.

a book recommendation on the topic (+ others): one thousand gifts. it will change your life.

mary, elizabeth & ellie: good gifts.

for some reason, ellie has got it into her head that she doesn't want to have a baby. she tells me regularly that she wants to be a wife, but she doesn't want to be a mommy. the idea scares her. it doesn't matter how many times i tell her that anything scary related to mommy-hood is worth it. she is adamant. no baby.

just now, she came from her bed crying. we've been working through our advent activity and reading plenty of christmas books so the motherhood stories of both mary and elizabeth are fresh in our minds. with tears streaming down her face, ellie told me again tonight, "i don't want a baby, mama!" i told her, as i always do, that i hope she changes her mind someday, and she doesn't need to worry about it right now. then she said, "but i'm afraid Jesus will ignore me and give me one anyway!"

smiling at the way her mind works, i told her that she could trust Jesus. that He wouldn't give her anything she can't handle, that He only gives good gifts.

and again, on repeat, He speaks through them.

don't touch the hurt.

it's black friday, and i'm feeling pretty melancholy. i'm not out shopping, though i have been perusing the internet a bit for christmas gifts. i've been decorating for christmas, no one has to work, my babies are napping beautifully on this cloudy day. thanksgiving leftovers abound, including nanny's to-die-for chocolate pie.

so what is it?

*****

grayson hurt his ankle on monday night while running around mamo's house with ellie and michael david. he has not walked since. he has bouts of fussiness, but he's been happy quite a bit, too. he crawls or scoots around, but has not walked a step since he hurt it. it took us awhile to figure out it was his ankle. he wasn't being specific about where it hurt, and there wasn't any noticeable bruising or swelling until yesterday when his little ankle started to turn black and blue.

while we were trying to figure out what was wrong, we would apply pressure in various places on his leg, turning his joints ever so slightly to gauge his reaction.

at one point, he said, "don't touch the hurt, mama!" before starting to cry.

i have to admit that before there was any visible injury, it was starting to drive me nuts that gray wouldn't walk. i couldn't see anything wrong, and he wasn't articulating the problem. understandable. he's three. nonetheless, i was frustrated.

and then, the Holy Spirit.

"see, child? you are like he."

and i see it. God reaches into my life, applying pressure, turning joints, and i scream out, "don't touch the hurt!" i don't want to go through the process of identifying the problem. i just want to cry. i want to be upset that my life is not perfect instead of going through the pains of healing it.

remaining bent and on my knees, crawling through days, seems easier than exploring the holdup, stretching out to walk.

but healing does not come without work, without risking momentary pain. stepping out with unsure footing is required.

luckily, Jesus is faithful to meet me. He catches me and sets me upright.

"then in their trouble they called to the Lord, and he saved them from their distress. He healed them with his command and saved them from the grave."
-psalm 107:19-20

*****

i think i'm sad today because no matter how much healing the Lord does, i will not be completely whole until i am in His presence. christmas commercials and even christmas music depict this magical happiness that should suddenly sprout forth because thanksgiving has passed. and i am certainly filled with joy at all the blessings that have been poured out on me. there are too many to count. but the perfection is not there. not yet. i'm still missing something. Someone.

someday His touch will reach every last ounce of hurt, brokenness, loneliness. crawling will not be an option, walking effortless.

no Christmas lights required.

until then, this bandaged soul limps on.

salvation is here.

the more students filled the foyer, the hotter it got. a quick scan around the place found makeshift fans waving in front many a face. despite the heat, smiles spread across lips. most especially, mine.

my heart fluttered as the band started worship. shoulder-to-shoulder, students stood, filling the pews with potential. the living, breathing answer to battles fought in prayer.

i paced the back row with thanksgiving weighing heavy in my belly. hands raised, resisting the urge to shout, i felt so proud and so small at the same time. our hard work, though just beginning, is going to pay off. but the credit is God's. our greatest efforts are nothing without Him.

suddenly, i needed to be high. i needed the best view of this miracle God is working. i climbed to the back corner of the sound booth and looked. i looked at 225 souls and thought, "i am like zacchaeus, a sinner desperate to see the work of Jesus, for just a glimpse."

dozens were saved. dozens rededicated their lives. saved by and rededicated to the One who said this to zacchaeus and continues to say it to us:

“today salvation has come to this house... for the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” -luke 19:9-10

appreciation.

tomorrow is the kids' last day of preschool for the year. hard to believe. this afternoon, we made appreciation gifts for their teachers. miss pattie for ellie. miss gloria and miss ashley for grayson. i bought pretty annuals at olive's nursery, and we embellished. we used colorful handmade paper to cover the plastic containers, and the kids decorated cards that read "thank you for helping me grow!" with stamps and crayons. we taped the cards and their spring school photos to bamboo skewers and stuck them into the plants.

love.

hopefully the teachers will, too.

shortly after we finished the gifts, ellie started getting ready to go to church with landon. i told her to go get her shoes on, which, for some reason, took forever. finally, she appeared in the living room doorway in the socks you see here, green shoes in hand.

"oh, baby," i said. "can't you wear sandals with shorts?"

"but i like these shoes," she responded, frowning.

"but the socks look silly."

"but i like these," she said again, emphatically, starting to cry.

{enter a huge check in my spirit.}

"who cares what socks and shoes she wears? why do you?"

"um...because she looks...dorky?" i thought, feeling sheepish as the idea materialized in my mind.

silence.

convicted, i called her over to me and started putting her green shoes on as the Holy Spirit began weaving together a lesson as only the Holy Spirit can do.

"you know how proud she is when she dresses herself. every time she comes out from her room, no matter how outlandish the outfit, she beams with excitement. and she stares into your eyes, searching for your approval, for your confirmation that what she's done is a good thing. that you are pleased with her. is avoiding dorkiness worth crushing such a tender and hopeful spirit?

"she is learning from you now whether the way she was created is good enough or if she needs to morph into something else. something that others will accept. something that is cool. do you want her to believe that doing what is cool or acceptable in the eyes of others is the best path? or do you want to teach her that she is fearfully and wonderfully made, pleasing in your sight and, most importantly, in Mine?

"foster those things in her that you recognize as being unique. when you are sensitive, you can see what those are. for when you appreciate ellie, you appreciate one of the most beautiful things I've ever created."

a rough day redeemed.

brown bear, brown bear on repeat.

lots of coloring.

she's a prolific artist.

humble food to satisfy bellies.

on the way to ballet.

enjoying an early spring evening.

today was a rough day. i questioned lots of things and cried about a few more. i felt like i wasn't cutting it and wondered if i have what it takes. but after some great suggestions and helpful encouragement (read: therapy) from my mom, i determined to be present for the evening.

i am often distracted and exhausted when i come home from school, and way too frequently i wish away the small amount of time i have with my children. "go play," i say, as i glance at the clock, wondering how much longer until bed. i am not proud to admit it. but it's true. i tend to disengage from them after hours of constant contact with 80 12-year-olds who count on me to answer questions and solve problems and hear complaints. i feel overwhelmed and just...long...for...silence. i either zone out or fill my head with more worry and urgency over everything that still needs to be done.

but talking to my mom today and this morning's Word from the Lord has me realizing that my children's noise is really at the bottom of what drives me. i really want the opposite of their silence. i just need to intentionally pursue it. to be there. my deepest desire is to be their guide and confidant. to be the safe place they can be themselves. to be the hands of God as He molds and shapes them for His glory.

so i breathed whispered prayers and praises for the blessings they are on the way home. and when i got there i cooked. i hugged. i read books. i listened. i cuddled. i played outside. i prayed. i touched. i redirected. i encouraged. i bathed.

i know i'll be in this place 1,000 times again before much time passes, wondering if what i have is worthwhile or just plain falls short. is there any hope that i can get this right?

well, no. not on my own. but with Him? yes!

He speaks boldly through paul in 2 corinthians, saying: "'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. "

HIS GRACE IS ENOUGH!

i'm 28, and this is the first summer i'll wear shorts with confidence.

it is 91 degrees in west texas today. NINETY-ONE, people. it's february 27.

it is also windy as all get out. a sign, as my mother-in-law reminded me, that spring is coming. "march is in like a lion, out like a lamb, remember? the wind's got to blow to bend the trees. that brings the sap and gets them to bud," she said.

my mother-in-law is so smart. i just wanted to whine about the wind.

so although most everything is still brown and dead for the time being, the warm temperatures have this pregnant lady breaking out the shorts. as i walked in the door a couple hours ago, i stripped off my church clothes and immediately threw on shorts and a tee shirt.

i wore shorts yesterday too, as a matter of fact. to a birthday party. and i felt cute.

that there, people, is a noteworthy little sentence. i felt cute.

i can't remember the last time i felt cute in shorts. really.

i weigh (give or take) 30 pounds more than i did in high school (and will add to that significantly this summer with baby 3 in utero), and i never wore shorts in high school. i wore skimpy little tops (ahem) and jeans all summer long. JEANS. i specifically remember being ridiculously hot. but no matter, i thought my legs were ugly in shorts.

oh, high school self. you silly, silly girl.

the point i'm trying to make is that it has probably been a good 15+ years since i have felt cute in shorts. and it's not thanks to some great diet and exercise plan that's left me with supermodel legs (impossible). nope, these legs aren't nearly as pretty as they were a decade and a half ago.

it's because of a perspective change.

read the rest of the post at "what mom wore"...