He is there

I've found myself pondering this question recently: How do I best prepare for difficulty?

Any way you slice it, difficult times are ahead.  I've already passed through a few, and Jesus summed it up when He said, "In this world you will have trouble."

Sometimes when big and small things happen that create a storm in my life, I act surprised and even offended which is a tell that I have been believing that my choices are going to protect me from ever facing a challenge. When I stop and analyze my reaction, I notice a self-sufficiency that creeps in, dominating my thought life with an increasing reliance on myself to avoid things that are hard. 

It's a tell that I have been spending time thinking through every possible worse-case scenario, imagining loads of conversations where I'll say this and you'll say that and he'll answer with this so then I'll come back and say such and such…building internal walls and creating plans for the what ifs and the outcomes I predict…

None of those things have ever protected me or truly prepared me for any difficulty I've passed through. Certainly it's never stopped an outside force from wreaking havoc on my "well-ordered" life.

That's not to say that planning is bad or thinking through scenarios can't ever be helpful, especially when there are some pragmatic things to do for physical preparedness. And we definitely need to do some mental and emotional preparedness. 

What I'm realizing, however, is that my way of preparing emotionally in the past has not really served me well when an actual hard time has come because my habitual line of thinking has led me in circles trying to figure out how I would solve the problem, fix the problem, and protect myself from the problem with no real effective answers.

So what to do?

I think the key lies in what Jesus says next: "Take heart.  I have overcome the world."

In The Forgotten Way, Ted Dekker says this:

 "The eternal realm of heaven has come into all darkness as the Light of the world.  This Light does not stand beside darkness, or around it, or in one small corner of it.  This Light has come Into all darkness, as John writes.  Paul makes it clear when he wrote, In Him all things hold together.  Every atom.  All.  Show me a place where you think Christ isn't, and He will show you only your blindness to Him there, because He is there." [p 113]

If I want to prepare for hard times ahead, then I need to take heart.  Partnering with worse-case-scenario imaginations don't, for me at least, lead to finding powerful solutions to problems that may arise; rather it leads me down a path of hopelessness and despair and self-reliance which creates panic, fear, worry, stress, anxiety.

Taking heart means imagining Jesus present in every single scenario I can come up with.  And then trusting that He'll be in the ones that I haven't thought of.

Taking heart looks like trusting that no matter what's ahead, the final outcome will bear the mark of Jesus because He has overcome the world.

It shifts something deep within me when I allow the truth of the Gospel to sink profoundly into the marrow of my bones and set my thoughts to marinate in the truth of His Presence within and all around me.

I confess my blindness to that Presence.  I see and hear of things going on around me.  I struggle with the news of atrocities here and across the globe.  It's easy to see only the hard and the evil that oftentimes causes it, but I'm called to a different way of operating.  I'm called to take heart and to look for the Presence of Christ in every situation.

So today I'm preparing by practicing the Presence of Jesus right here and now, imagining Him present with me here and present with me in the future and in every situation I will encounter.

I'm taking heart.  

Will you join me?

I am a habitation

I opened an email this morning by Graham Cooke titled "God is not a visitor" and as I began to read how God came to dwell with us, within us, these thoughts began running through my head:

When I wake up anxious

I'm am a habitation

When I'm tired and weary

I am a habitation

When I feel depressed, discouraged, hopeless, and afraid

I am a habitation

When my walls are up and I'm guarded and reserved

I am a habitation

When I'm critical and harsh

I am a habitation

When I'm short-sighted, have forgotten my way, and get bogged down in fruitless activity and unholy ruminations,

I am a habitation

There's a mixture of feelings as I type these out.  On the one hand I feel a degree of shame, as in "Shame on you for having those struggles and tainting presence of God in your life. How will people know Him if you have these things that don't reveal him?" which is really code for "don't you know people can't see God if you aren't living a perfect life?!?"

Maybe no one has ever come out and said those words exactly to me, but the truth is that I do struggle with a measure (smaller now than before) of perfectionism, so when I see my mistakes - however big or small - they loom large enough to mask the presence of God... in my mind, anyway.

But is that really possible? To taint or mask the presence of God? Are my mistakes and sinful patterns truly that powerful?  Deep down I have believed that they were.

There is a shift occuring, however, even this morning as I write.  The shift started happening as the realization came that NO MATTER WHAT I DO, God still inhabits me.  My mistakes and frames of mind and straight up sinful behaviors do not in any way shape or form push Him away.  He still inhabits me.  I am still a habitation.

What kind of love and mercy is that?

I confess I've viewed God through small eyes, expecting Him to run and hide when my ugly comes out. But He doesn't.  He shines on anyway.  He inhabits me always.  He never leaves me or forsakes me.

And that gives me great hope.  Instead of spiraling down into a cesspool of guilt and shame which can set me back for days, I can be reminded that He stays, He dwells, He inhabits this frail body of mine even in my worst moments.

Don't you feel the beauty of redemption rising up within you even now?  He has chosen me, chosen you, to be His habitation.  His light and His power and His work are still going on even in our messiest moments, our most diabolical days, and if we can lay hold of that truth and begin to really believe it to be true, then whatever fears and worries and faulty thinking that drives those misaligned behaviors….well, they lose their footing…they lose their power over us so that we begin to not only know that we are His habitation but we get to fully experience what it FEELS LIKE to have the living presence of God within our very bodies.

Guys, I am a mess most days.  It starts around 5 a.m. and continues until I fall back in bed around 11 p.m.  I am regularly on the ferris wheel of never enough which sometimes trips me up into a sea of messy emotions and interactions with my family.

I am still a habitation.

And that truth is growing and expanding and taking over old mindsets of shame and condemnation and transforming my thoughts and renewing my mind.

Knowing that I am a habitation and that He never leaves does not make me want to go out and sin all the more. God forbid! The other teaching that says my mistakes can cover God's goodness is built on a fear that God's love and mercy are not motivators enough to do justly and to love mercy.

I am here to tell you that shame is not a reliable motivator, in fact it often feeds the behaviors we so passionately try to avoid in order to shine forth the light that's within us. But if we secretly believe that we can somehow hide the presence of God that inhabits us or somehow cause Him to go away, then we have made ourselves more powerful than He and reduced Him to a god driven by whim and offense.

That isn't who inhabits me. 

Emmanuel lives within me, more powerful than all of the sins I can commit, bigger than any mistake I can make, and more faithful than I can ever imagine.

And knowing that, both in my head and in my heart, gives me strength to make powerful choices to be the best version of myself, the one that God sees when He looks at me…the redeemed one, bought by His blood, washed white as snow, the place where His glory dwells.

I am a habitation.  

Thoughts are like slippery toddlers

I want to be nurturing, comforting, loving and kind.  I don’t want to fail or to feel like a failure or to hurt the people I love in my brokenness.  Who does?!?

I simply want my brokenness to serve as an opening for the Treasure to shine through, to give others a window to the One.

The thoughts of anxious wonderings stir my soul to wake and get to task.  Does this also wake my children?  Have I passed it on to them? An anxious recounting of tasks to do and tasks undone and tasks to be redone and those simply done poorly and deserving up recrimination…

What a dismal way to wake day after day – to an overwhelming sense that no matter how hard I try, it won’t all get done, there will be mistakes, and I will miss important opportunities.

The shortcomings and failures magnify themselves through the lens of “not enough” like grandiose paupers with puppet power to control and manipulate through fear and anxiety.

But all these vapid emotions do is suck the life from my day, usurping Peace and Trust with “oh no!” and “what if?”

And who wants to even wake, especially when the list is impossible and overwhelming?  No wonder I’d rather sleep.  No wonder.

Yet, I know that this is not my inheritance, that I really have the right to stay in a perfect peace.  It’s my mind that is undisciplined and unruly, taking thoughts and imaginations exalted and inviting them in to drink and dine instead of taking them by the horns and wrestling them to the ground to show them who’s boss.

But have you ever successfully wrestled a toddler slippery from the bath with more energy than is legal in a single substance?

Yeah, me neither.

I’m not certain, and there doesn’t seem to be a perfect formula, but I’m finding that sitting and opening my arms and inviting those thoughts to come near for comfort rather than for a lecture is, in fact, a better way of capturing them and reshaping them with truth rather than bludgeoning them with facts.

This particular morning, I do a combination of both until finally these words surge from beneath the pile:

The Lord is my Shepherd

Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not…

Be anxious for nothing but in everything give thanks

Cast all your cares on Him for He cares for you

He works all things together for my good

and finally…

These light and momentary troubles are working for me right living as a default mode.  Amen and amen.  May it be soon, Lord.  That default mode?  I’d like it to be Peace and Rest and Trust. 

May it be so.

I'm done with the box.

The conversation blindsided me.  I was expecting an encouraging chat about the past gathering, but instead I got a reprimand and a message to get back in my box.

We'd clarified and clarified again the expectations on us for the gathering, explaining and re-explaining our unorthodox style, tendencies to go "off road" and follow the Spirit train as we were seeing it.  The structure for the gathering was pretty tightly woven together, so we knew that we weren't perhaps the greatest fit.

But we were assured multiple times that "yes, we want what you got, so please bring it."

And bring it we did, only I don't think they really knew what they were asking of us or, rather, what unleashing us would ultimately ask of them.

I don't think they knew the embedded fears and desire to have control and to not be surprised that would be uncovered by our flow.

I don't think I did.

I tried a couple of more times, to be all me out there with my heart bursting wide and long and high in the glory of the Father's love, but the conversations kept happening and I was left bewildered and torn and uncertain how to explore the glorious adventure I'd grown to love so deeply with Holy Spirit, experiencing His sweetness and His laughter and His thrill that made my heart come alive in so many ways...

So I walked back to my box, and asked Holy Spirit to please not ask me to get too far out of the box during those gatherings because I didn't know what else to do.

Little by little that heart bursting wide and and long and high went flat.  Come to find out, even small periods of compartmentalization can have far reaching effects beyond the scope of a 2 hour gathering.

In asking Holy Spirit to not ask me to leave my box during those times, interestingly enough the rest of the week was affected too...somehow, and I haven't quite figured it out, there was a link from there to every other part of my life.

And I shrunk a little bit each time, but I thought it was just that one day, but looking back I can see a shrinking and a shriveling and a deadening that spread slow, but steady, over every other creative endeavor I was pursing at the time until I was almost completely and utterly flat.

I don't know how I could have done that season differently.  I don't know what path would have been the better path.  Perhaps I just had to walk that path to get an education on how shutting myself down in ANY AREA OF MY LIFE will impact all of the other areas...how I can think I'm just compartmentalizing for these few moments in time and that that's all that will be impacted...but no. Emphatic NO!  Any amount of box-hiding, small-playing, keeping myself "presentable" for the comfort of others will, if left unchecked, lead to death of the creative self which is ultimately me diminishing God's glory within.

This realization comes in a string of revelations I've been having on self-protection and the ways I use these tools to keep me "safe" which really equates to "free from pain" because who likes pain anyway!?!

But what I'm learning (and was so clearly illustrated to me this past week as I pieced together a puzzle I've been looking at for awhile now) is that I'd rather face the pain and be fully alive and fully who I've been created to be than hide in a box trying to avoid and/or numb the pain.  Because truth is, that box does a poor job of protecting me from pain and goes a long way towards actually catching and holding onto painful, identity-wrecking patterns of behavior that do not serve me well.

It's frightening as heck to not self-protect, to not shrink down and become small and disconnect emotionally (because that's what I do but your self-protective tendencies may be something else).  I mean, what if I get hurt?  What if I fall flat on my face?  What if I experience rejection and betrayal and abandonment?  What if I'm misunderstood? What if I'm abandoned?

I don't know the answer to my what ifs this morning, but I'm done with self-protection and I'm looking to God's protection and trusting that the vulnerability and wholeheartedness that Brene Brown writes so eloquently about is worth all of the risks. (*Y'all go read her books if you haven't yet.  Rising Strong hits it out of the park and is so worth your time to read and effort to process and apply)

And you know what else?  That self-protection doesn't serve the people around me at all either.  They are better off having the authentic, messy, out-of-the-box me even though experiencing her may be a bit uncomfortable and downright weird at times.

I'm scared, but I need to feel alive again, to have my heart beating wild and free, bursting long and high and wide and deep in all of the places and in all of the ways it's meant to be.

I'm ready to be free.

Kickboxing, gratitude, and love.

I went to Body Combat class this morning with my daughter. It's the first time I've been in a martial arts-styled exercise class in over 10 years, and it was nice to be back, although I'm definitely not quite as intense at it as I was back then.  My daughter makes up for that though...lol.

Back when I was attending regularly, it was called Kickboxing.  My friend Susanna would email me the list of classes she was going to attend that week at our local Y, and I would join her.  Susanna is super at organizing and scheduling. I was so blessed in that season by her workout structure because it gave me something to shoot for and someone who would know if I didn't show up to work out which gave me accountability.

She probably scheduled three or four classes a week to attend, so we got to experience several different instructors.  I liked most of them, but there was this one that rubbed me the wrong way.  We'll call her Amy.

Just seeing her in the hallway, my spirit would recoil.  I had no interaction with her or basis for my reaction, but the last thing I wanted to do was attend her classes.

However, she taught the afternoon kickboxing class, and Susanna decided to try it out.

I was in a season of learning a lot from Graham Cooke, a British guy that teaches on the prophetic, and had listened multiple times to a teaching called "Messing with the Enemy's Head" (Go ahead and click on that link.  You can thank me later.)

One of the main points is to operate in the opposite spirit.  So if you are encountering someone who is irritated and frustrated, instead of responding in like manner, I get to be calm and kind.

Since it was so obvious that I had no real reason to dislike Amy (and even if there were...), I decided that it was an opportunity to operate in the opposite spirit, so I went to her class with Susanna.

I really, really didn't enjoy the class.  It was a struggle for me to focus on the workout and not on my negative feeling towards her.  But I wanted to be faithful to the lesson, so I continued to attend.

One afternoon during class, the Lord told me: "I want you to go and thank her."

A surge of panic rose in my chest.  Thank her?  For what?  I couldn't come up with anything about the class I was grateful for, so darkened were the lenses I was viewing her through. I could hardly concentrate on the moves Amy was directing us through as my mind whirled through the possible things I could honestly say thank you for.

Finally, I hit on the one that I could truthfully say.

So after class was over, I dutifully walked over to her and said, ""Thank you for teaching the class."

That was it.  She said, "You're welcome," and as I turned to go out the door, the negativity towards her that I had been experiencing was suddenly and completely washed away by an intense love and compassion for her.  I was astounded and moved to extreme gratitude.

God had taken my darkened perspective, empowered my very small step of obedience, and shifted everything in a moment.

My negative reaction to anything/anyone is always an opportunity for me to grow. I'd like to say that since that time, I've learned how to embrace that growth every time.  Truth is, it usually takes several times before I realize that I'm listening to and agreeing with the enemy's broadcast about that person.  I'm partnering with his plan instead of pushing back and agreeing with God's plan and perspective.

Truth is, God's love runs deeper/higher/wider than I'll ever be able to grasp for every. single. person.  So when my reaction/response isn't love, there's work to be done, and gratitude is a powerful tool in this process.

Have someone difficult in your life?  Try finding one thing you can be thankful for about him/her, and if you have the chance, verbally thank him/her for that.  Become aware of when you are experiencing negative emotions towards someone and then ask God to show you how to operate in the opposite spirit.

The Ugly Struggle

Sometimes I'm shocked at myself at these seemingly unholy attitudes and emotions that get triggered unexpectedly.  Why am I shocked?  I don't know, truthfully, but I do my best to reason them down, remind them that they don't belong and shouldn't be around and should know better than to feel that way.

So far, that hasn't actually been very helpful.

The feelings are still there, except for now instead of being more sedate and holy, they've multiplied into feelings of injustice, hurt, fear, pain...magnified by my (or other's) lack of understanding, acceptance, reassurance...love. They wrestle around inside, pushing me to run and hide while simultaneously fighting to get outside.  The struggle is ugly and messy and fraught with danger for this recovering perfectionist who is fighting to let go of masks and enter into humanity more authentically than my less-than-perfect defense mechanisms have allowed.

When I fight to hide and win, there's no real victory because I pay in other ways - increased anxiety, heavy stress, debilitating depression- that wreak havoc on my natural body creating toxic overload, a prime environment for sickness and disease.

What I'm finding in my journey is that I need a safe place to allow these thoughts, attitudes and emotions to surface, be processed, learned from, respected, acknowledge long before they are corrected, disciplined, changed.  I'm not very good at doing that with myself, but I'm trying because I think that deep down we all need love and acceptance to come before discipline and correction is effectively possible.

If correction and discipline come first, my walls and my defenses deflect anything that might actually be helpful and constructive.  Love and acceptance are what's needed, a space that says "It's ok to voice your ugly thoughts and emotions here, to let them see the light of day, to cry your ugly cry and say things that you might not otherwise say because, baby, when you leave it all inside, pressed down in the dark recesses of your soul, it boils and festers and stinks and didn't some wise one once say 'out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks'?"

Pretending I'm not really feeling those feels and thinking those thoughts is denial.  Fighting with them only strengthens their hold.  Acceptance and love and bringing them into the light over time actually diffuses their strength and means less stink in the dank dark places and more light and hope and freedom.  Otherwise I'm left with a tightly controlled balloon that always seems to peek out behind the walls at inopportune moments, in the moment when that word or that phrase knowingly or unknowingly slings out a razor sharp rock that slices through the thin veneer and out comes all of that stored up mess I thought I was hiding so well.

I think love and acceptance looks like me being ok, as in I'm not freaked out, when there's some errant child running around inside my head.  I've learned this phrase: "Even though I have this __________ (thought/emotion), I completely love and accept myself."  This is usually used with tapping, but even just saying it to myself brings me to remembrance that I am deeply loved and accepted by God in this moment and He wants me to practice the same with myself (see Romans 5:8)

I recently learned a new journaling "technique" called Immanuel Journaling (you can find the journaling prompts here and the book here).  Following this flow of writing has helped me to better learn to sit with myself in these moments, allowing Jesus to be more present to me, to the real me (not that He isn't ever not present but if I'm not aware then I don't believe I receive the full benefits of having Him here), and to receive His healing comfort and experience His healing presence.

It's in the moments when I hear Him say: "I see you struggling with all of that guilt and shame and pain.  That's a pretty heavy load. How about I help you with that?" when the balloon deflates and the walls collapse and instead of pain and remorse and shame I feel hope and healing and release.

And it's really great to go straight to Jesus with all of that mess because He can handle it.  But I also think we are called to do this in community (which can be built into Immanuel Journaling).  Hosea says that He leads us with cords of human kindness and Paul that His kindness leads to repentance. Sometimes I can't get out of my triggered state on my own and need the kindness of a friend to help pull me back to a state of relational connection where I can receive the new thoughts that I need to think via the correction and discipline of God that is also so vitally important.

But first things first: kindness, love, acceptance leads to relational connection which then can lead to repentance which brings a state of openness to discipline and correction...(I think...My rational mind is coming up with all sorts of exceptions to that principle but I think it's safe to say that at least for me personally, if you were to approach me in this way when I'm struggling with thoughts and emotions that may not seem very holy and righteous, I'd come out on the other side of that conversation more healed and whole than if you handed me the list of why they are wrong and what I should be doing instead which I have been SO GUILTY of doing. Ugh. And I also think that there are quite a few others out there, too, that would do well with this approach, particularly children.)

So, practically, what does creating a safe space in community look like?  I think it starts with conversations that demonstrate an honest curiosity into what is going on by saying something like "You seem frustrated" or "I hear you say that you are frustrated.  Can you tell me more about that?"  And then practice reflective listening.  Another thing would be to start an Immanuel Journaling group with a few safe people in your life.

I'm far from walking this out consistently.  There are plenty of days when I hide and portray a convincing picture of someone with it all together inside.  But there are more and more days when I take the ugly struggle out into the open where it can get some fresh air and sunshine.  And as uncomfortable and unsightly as that often is, it's where the most healing and hope takes place.

I don't feel like it

I really don't want to write today.

But I made this commitment to myself and told a few people that my goal was to write daily.  This is the best way for me to stay accountable to the process.

Today my heart feels a little worn, a little haggard, a bit tattered.  The same 'ole same 'ole come back around again to poke and prod at tender places, hurting places, skittish places.

I'm trying to sit with them a little bit and listen to what my heart is saying, processing with God these complicated matters of memories and mistakes and things I cannot change.  It's not an easy place to sit for long because I'm vulnerable and exposed without my walls of self-protection carefully guarding my heart.

Although my allotted writing time is far from up, I'm going to give myself some grace today.  I've also committed to a few other daily habits-to-form like painting and guitar-playing, so I'll give extra time to those today.

Or maybe I'll just take a nap.

About fear

It's sneaky.  Comes in looking like it belongs here, like it has some space to occupy while it does something worthwhile.

Mostly it works on reminding or projecting, working in the past or looking out into the future.  I'm pretty sure it's impossible for fear to live in the present.  It's very nature works on what has happened and what might happen.

It slides in with a small thought.  There was just enough space there between the words and images for it to go and poke at that place and stir up some trouble.

Suddenly the landscape I'm living in changes and I'm viewing things through lenses built on past memories while trying to see what might be coming down the pike and it's almost always worst case scenario.

Fear thrives on that.  It brings to mind that time that mistake was made or that wrong was done and then it super imposes it on some future event and always in a negative light.  Always.  Its colors are dark and drab and dismal and depressed and it never ever brings joy.

Never.

Because somehow I can best prepare for some unknown future event by being fearful, worried, scared, afraid and somehow I can stop something from happening by allowing fear to be the lens I make decisions with or relate to people through or spend time spinning plates over.

"And who can add an hour to their life by worry?" asks Jesus.

Because if I could, I'd sure to have days and days of extra time but all fear does is whisk away the present moments and turn gifts into fearful ponderings that steal joy and stuff pain.  I look out and instead of faces I see potential mistakes and a sea of what ifs and why didn't Is and I should haves.  I miss the nuances of light and color and smiles and laughter and hearts with intentions to do the very best that they can.

Fear tricks me into believing that this way of thinking is most helpful and productive AS IF I could turn back time or go forward in time and then come back and fix time and if I take a step back and look at it like that I can see that fear has no rhyme or reason for this present moment I'm living in, at least not the fear that slipped in the door this morning with whispers of worry and doubt.

There is no joy in fear.  None.  Fear sucks the life out of every moment and throws them aside, discarded and unlived.  So why do I keep inviting it back in?

It knocks.  I answer.  It's not like I don't see who it is.  I know fear, and maybe that's why I open that door because fear is what's familiar.  "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't"?

Except I really don't want to party with any devil, fear or otherwise.

So I take a deep breath, take captive my thoughts, say a prayer of thanksgiving, and show fear to the door.  Maybe I'll be quicker tomorrow to send it packing.  Maybe I won't even open the door.

Because I know this, there is no fear in love and love is where I want to live all the days of my life.  Yes there's pain and yes bad things happen, really bad things.  But so do good things.  Lots and lots of good things and I'd rather fill my thoughts and open my eyes to those moments that fill my day.

Love helps me live present, increases joy, promotes true peace, and gives really amazing gifts.

My future is best prepared for when I'm living in the moment I'm in looking for the gifts love brings, opening my heart to the joy of the now, receiving peace that's available to me right now.

Love strengthens.  Love gives hope.  Love builds trust.  Love connects and restores and replenishes and multiplies and crosses miles and oceans and cultures and languages and gives back a thousand times over what it takes to live present, to live now.

Best case scenario with love?  I live present. I get presents.
Worst case scenario with love? I live present. I get presents.

It's a win win.

follow me on Periscope @untetheredlife and check out our website untethered.life

The fog

The damp gray blanketed the world  as I began my morning routine: boil water, make tea, grab journal and Bible and devotionals and pens.  The day looked as grey as I felt.  Journaling and reading and processing did their work in me but my mood was not lighter, my heart no more brighter than the morning light muted with fog.

With the sun, the fog began to lift, so I slipped my feet into worn sneakers for the walk I knew I needed but didn't really want to take.

I pressed on anyway.

I walked the block to the trail nearby, and as I neared it I noticed the grass looked like glass, tiny droplets of water lining blades transforming each into an iridescent show.  My eyes took note.  My heart began to waken just a bit.  My toes got wet as the drenched grass brushed over my shoes.

Now on the trail I began to pay attention to the places the wet gray blanket had left gifts of beauty: the long stalks of some native grass whose tips criss-crossed with spider webs had become a sprinkling of intricate flowers made of water droplets and finest of threads.  My awareness increased and realization came that what had been a dreary beginning had actually been the makings of a display of intricate design woven throughout the night then dressed in diamonds by the morning fog.

As I continued my walk, I now began to look for more signs of wonder made of gossamer and H2O.  Here, there, everywhere I see the perfectly shaped webs now star-studded, the moisture clinging, weighing down the web as it's creator patiently waits in the center of its masterpiece.

Many mornings I make this walk.  Many mornings I see the trail and the grass and the trees.  Occasionally I glimpse a magnificent web yet unbroken by breakfast.  But never have I seen so many arrayed in such splendor.

I breathe in the moment knowing that what at first appeared to be a blanket of dreary grey had now become the very substance that transformed an ordinary walk into an extraordinary holy moment.

This day at this moment in time revealed a gift I couldn't have anticipated finding had I not pressed through the perspective that wanted to wrestle my heart to the ground, the despairing voice in my head saying: haven't you had enough fog in your life, haven't you been in this season long enough, isn't it time for something to change.  And yes, and yes, and yes...but NOW I have experienced that the fog leaves a gift if I'm willing to wait, if I'm willing to see, if I'm ready to appreciate.

Makes the fog I've lived with for so long now different somehow....  It's no longer something to suffer under, to whine over, to despair about... It's become a master artist at work on a gallery so resplendent my heart must expand to receive it in all its glory.

There's beauty coming...are you ready?

Isaiah 40:31 AMP But those who wait for the Lord [who expect, look for, and hope in Him] shall change and renew their strength and power; they shall lift their wings and mount up [close to God] as eagles [mount up to the sun]; they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint or become tired.

To my overwhelmed mom friends

In less than two weeks I graduate my man-child. He's 6'5", size 17 shoe. He can see the dust on the top of the fridge, reach things I have to go up 5 rungs on the ladder to grasp.  He's smart, witty, creative, gifted, loving, gentle, kind, strong, brave, encouraging, daring...he's also challenging and stubborn.  He is 17, after all, and learning how to be himself apart from me.

But once upon a time, he was a part of me.  He grew within my belly, and when time came for him to emerge into the world, he came out at break-neck speed, leaving "skid marks," as the midwife called them.

And it looks like he's going to leave home the same way he left my body...at break-neck speed.  Where did the years go?

I've read over the past year many posts and blogs in response to the "older mom telling the younger mom" to enjoy these years because they pass by so quickly, with the younger moms saying "yeah, we know that, but look at this overwhelming amount of parenting I'm having to do right now.  This isn't helpful!"

I wish I would've listened to those older moms.

Here's what I know, what I'm learning, now that I have one child living on her own, one about to head out the door, and four more still in my daily care...I wish I would have known how to do what those older and wiser women were encouraging me to do...to live life present.

As I young mom, I was tired.  I had six babies in 10 1/2 years which is a lot or a little, depending on who you are.  I was also a perfectionist and therin lies (and continues to lie) the problem.  I was tired and overwhelmed not just in body, but in heart.

You see, my heart was carrying a burden that it was never meant to carry...the burden of making sure my children were consistently well-behaved, were up-to-speed on all of their age appropriate skills, obeyed the first time every time, ate healthy foods (with the definition of healthy always changing...), went to bed on time, got up on time, nursed enough, played enough outside, had enough play dates, slept through the night, had shoes that fit well, got their check ups, were spiritually disciplined, were well-read, could play musical instruments, had a chance to play sports, etc., etc., etc.

Now I know some of these things are my responsibility because it's what a mom does, but where my downfall came was in thinking that if these things weren't happening in the way I expected them to or the way I believed they should in the time frame that I gave them, then I had to figure out what I was doing wrong and fix it before everything went to hell in a hand basket.

I put pressure on myself, was critical of myself, put pressure on my children, was critical of my children...All of this internal and external striving caused me to miss God's grace that was present in every single overwhelming moment if only I would have known how to take time to breathe and look.  I did get it sometimes, but I was truthfully stuck in an unhappy loop because I could only be happy if everything was going well, or at least if I could see progress in the right direction.

When my oldest daughter was 10, I had a major light-bulb moment: she no longer was asking me to hold her, to rock her.  Up until about that age, she daily asked to be held and/or rocked.  I was tired and overwhelmed with lots of young children, so more often than not, I told her "no, honey, I'm too tired.  Maybe tomorrow."  And I did that enough times and suddenly there were no more tomorrows.

And I thought: "OH!!!  They aren't this way forever..."  So I slowed down as best I knew how...

That was nine years ago, and it's been a slow process of allowing God to teach me how to unwind and to let Him untangle me from some faulty ways of thinking that led to a tired-hearted momma.  He has set me free, mostly, from the tyranny of time that says that things have to happen at a certain time, in a certain way, or else... He has moved me into learning what love really looks like, that love takes time, slows down, doesn't pressure, doesn't cajole, doesn't threaten, doesn't hurry and scurry and go this way and that way...

Love breathes, love trusts, love hopes, love believes, love rests...love doesn't worry whether or not the dishes are done, the floors are clean, the laundry is folded and put away.  Love doesn't get bent out of shape or harried or scared.

I do, though.  But HE never does.  He holds time in His hands and His plans and purposes never fail and since I didn't learn to slow down and appreciate the moments then, I'm going to learn it now because these people in my care...they leave quickly...they grow up and they move out and they do great and amazing things in spite of and because of their time at home with me.

I want each of my children no matter their age, when they walk into the room, to feel my complete and utter delight in them.  They don't always because truthfully some days are hard and I'm still overwhelmed and still not trusting God and I still sometimes stress because they aren't where they are "supposed to be" academically or spiritually or physically or whatever measure I'm looking at in the moment...and I go down into this whirlwind of unbelief and doubt and fear and stress and anxiety until I catch myself or, rather, HE catches me, and I remember that these moments don't last forever...

I breathe, I hand my fear to God, I choose to trust His timing...I choose to not let my heart be led by fear and anxiety that's ever present in the moment and choose to remember that He's got this...my God is big and strong and good and He loves me and loves my kids.  Most of all I'm learning to remember that He redeems and He restores and He makes all things new.  He really and truthfully does.

I miss moments because I am too worried in those moments to believe the truth: God is love and is all the things that love is and does and while what I do IS important it never overrides His power, strength and purpose.  He doesn't give stones. He gives bread...

So, my overwhelmed mom friends...take a moment.  Breathe.  If your kids are newborn, toddlers, elementary-age, teens, adults...God's got this.  Love them.  Be present with them.  Ask the Holy Spirit to show you what ideals and expectations and pressures and standards are you holding onto that He never asked you to.  Let Him take those burdens.  Let Him lift the heavy load today so that you CAN treasure these moments, be present to those He has placed in His care, be kind and compassionate to yourself...you're doing the best you can and He is alive and active and working in and through and outside of your efforts.  Ask Him to take your fear and your overwhelmed so that you can see where His joy IS your strength and how HIS power is made PERFECT in your weakness.

Cry out to Him who is able to make all grace abound to you.  He's got new mercies for you today. Know that you are loved, that His love is carrying you even in those moments you think you are alone or have made a mess of things or can't possibly fathom how this is all going to work out for good.  It does.  He is.

Take a listen to the song below...let it reach into the marrow of your bones.
"Take a Moment" by Will Reagan

My addiction to met expectations

I recently read the first few pages of a book titled How to Make Your Life Work: or Why Aren't You Happy by Ken Keyes and was struck by the idea he presents about being addicted to having expectations met which creates chronic unhappiness.  I had never thought of it this way, but as I've pondered the thought I have become increasingly aware that, yes, I have this addiction.

Consciously or unconsciously, I have expectations on just about everything.  I expect to wake up to a quiet house and to have some alone time before I get going on my day.  I expect the people in my family to pick up after themselves.  I expect to get places on time.  I expect to make good decisions 99.9% of the time.  I expect those good decision to reward me with a trouble-free life.  Those are the ones on the top this morning.  There are a million more swirling around inside of me.  Sometimes these expectations are met, but certainly not always.

If I stop and think about my level of unhappiness and where it comes from...I mean, if I really dig down deep I'm pretty sure I'll find that it is floating on top of disappointment that things did not work out the way I expected.  This disappointment fuels stress, anxiety, fear, and a host of other toxic emotions that just become a cesspool for chronic dis-ease.

My friend Lisa shared this Tony Robbins quote with me yesterday:

 "Trade your expectation for appreciation and the world changes instantly.”

 I'm going to start here: when I recognize an expectation I have that hasn't gotten met, I'm going to choose to appreciation instead of some of the other things I've chosen in the past like self-recrimination, blaming, complaining.  Care to join me?

I've joined the Ultimate Blog Challenge in an attempt to get myself blogging again on a regular basis.  Daily blogging means imperfect posts that often feel uninspired, but there you go.  I'm blogging and that's what I'm going for.

Dessert

I'm going to let you in on a little secret:  I love dessert.

As a kid, back when we would have church potlucks where everything was homemade from scratch, usually from some famous family recipe, I would hit the dessert table first.  I didn't want to miss out on the cherry pie, the chocolate chip cookies, or the maple butterscotch cake.  When I would get home from school, I would make snickerdoodles and eat so much of the dough that I never really cared to have any cookies once they were baked, at least until the next day.  Put a plate of chocolate chip pecan cookies in front of me, and you might just find it empty when you come back.

My sister once made me a batch of the delectable chocolate chip cookies where the dough rests for 24-72 hours so the flavors meld and are baked with a sprinkle of sea salt on top.  She still makes fun of me for eating at least two for breakfast every day, not to mention the ones I had for mid-afternoon snack and then the before-bedtime snack.  I love all desserts, but a batch of salty-sweet chocolate chip cookies are my downfall.  I just can't resist.

We sometimes have apple cobbler for lunch or cookies and smoothies for supper.  Of course, I make the cookies healthy by reducing the sugar by 75% and adding ground flax seed and an extra cup of oats.  Dropping the sugar down by that much takes them out of the dessert category and into the meal category in my opinion so that even in the days when I am much more diligent about healthy eating in our family I feel like we are still within the bounds.

So next time you see me at a pot luck dinner of some sort, don't be surprised if you see me head to the dessert table first.  I promise I'll leave room for carrot and celery sticks.

I've joined the Ultimate Blog Challenge in an attempt to get myself blogging again on a regular basis.  Daily blogging means imperfect posts that often feel uninspired, but there you go.  I'm blogging and that's what I'm going for.

Equal...Doesnotequal

Change = discomfort

It's a given.  If things are changing in your life, you will be uncomfortable and you will try to find anything that will make you comfortable again, sometimes even choosing things that you left behind because they were harmful.

Discomfort ≠ bad
Hard ≠ bad

Sometimes you will have to go through the discomfort and the hard to get to the healthy and the good.

Familiar ≠ good

Especially if familiar means you go down into that negative place, only because it's the only path you've ever known.  Trust me, there are other choices.  You may not be able to see them because you have a wall of fear all around you, but there are ways to get around that.

Good ≠ best

Good can be an ok choice, but good can get in the way of the best.  Baby steps.  Today choose one thing that is best.

Busy ≠ good

Keeping busy does not necessarily mean productive or fruitful or good.  Often times staying busy is just masking shame which is trying to keep you tied down in familiar patterns of self-hatred and condemnation that, while they may be familiar, are definitely not your friends.  Busy also can be a wall that keeps you from seeing what your best choice may be. Take that into consideration.

Messy ≠ bad

Learning to operate with new tools while things are changing around and within you can get messy.  The mess can feel overwhelming.  It can feel daunting.  It can feel bad.  Ask a wise and trusted friend about this. Let them help you determine if your mess is bad or not and if there's anything you need to do about it.

If you find yourself in relational messes wherein you say or do something selfish and/or hurtful, apologize. Get good at apologizing now.  Need some help?  Here's a great "formula" to use until apologizing for selfish behavior comes naturally:

 I apologize for  ___________.  It was unloving because ___________.  Will you forgive me?

I can't see through this screen into your world, so know that these are basic generalizations.  If you or someone you know is in trouble and needs help, please get it.  Don't know where to go?  Leave me a comment here, and I'll point you in a helpful direction.

P.S. I've joined the Ultimate Blog Challenge in an attempt to get myself blogging again on a regular basis.  Daily blogging means imperfect posts that often feel uninspired, but there you go.  I'm blogging and that's what I'm going for.

Perspective

I like movies with a happy ending.  I like it when the good guy wins and the story lines end up tied up in plausible, pleasant ways.  I like the predictability of the happy ending without knowing exactly how it's going to get there.

Life doesn't feel like that.  Oh, I know life isn't a movie, much less a feel-good movie.  But these movies do mirror a part of THE story where God works all things out.

Right now, life feels chaotic, broken, uncertain.  A series of events have left me unsteady.  I drift in and out of anxiety, fear, and doubt daily.  It's hard for me to remember when I'm in this point of the story that there is a happy ending coming when I can't see how I'm going to get there.

The problem is that my focus gets off.  Instead of focusing on God who loves me and cares for me lavishly, who has told me that there will be trouble but that I don't have to fret, who fills my day with good things if I only have eyes to see...I look at the negatives: the things that need fixing, the places that are dirty and piled with stuff, the unsorted laundry, the messy kitchen and unmade beds, the projects left undone, the relationship struggles, my mistakes and my inability to keep up with it all and to fix it all to my liking.

All of these light and momentary troubles somehow have obtained the power to absorb my attention and distort my perspective.

Pretty Woman is one of my favorite happy-ending movies.  I know it's an unrealistic story involving prostitution, but there's a bit of Hosea hidden in there, and I just love the scene when Julia Roberts as Vivian is firmly approached by Hector Elizondo, the hotel mayordomo, for her disheveled appearance that doesn't quite fit the hotel's clientele.  Once he hears that she has been unable to purchase anything respectable to wear because the shops on Rodeo Drive won't attend her because of how she looks, he takes her under his wing and proceeds to bring to life the beauty and passion that has always been there in Vivian...it's just gotten muddied and distorted by the world and the lies that have been heaped on her.  And after a second shopping attempt is successful, Vivian emerges poised and beautiful and confident. If you've seen the movie, you know the ins and outs of her complicated relationship with Richard Gere and how that all turns out, and while it's far from a perfect analogy of God and his love for us, it does speak something profound about the power of perspective and kindness and love.

I just need to remember that God sees past all of my outer trappings that make me unappealing to myself...No one has rejected me or refused to help me recently because of how I look, how my house looks, or how my relationships look.  But I do often refuse to help myself out...to give myself a break and show some love and kindness, to "allow" God to be bigger than it all so that everything I see goes through His perspective, His Truth.

Isaiah 61:1-3

61 

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

    because the Lord has anointed me

    to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

    to proclaim freedom for the captives

    and release from darkness for the prisoners,[a]

2 

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

    and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

3 

    and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

    instead of ashes,

the oil of joy

    instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

    instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

    a planting of the Lord

    for the display of his splendor.

My favorite five

Today I'm simply going to list my top 5 movies.  No time to tell you why, however, so that may be a blog post for another day.  So, here they are in no particular order:

1. Pretty Woman
2. Ever After
3. The Matrix
4. The Game
5. Annie

Surely there's a theme running through these titles...

Advice or what I wish I would have known sooner

Love wins.  It's messy and fraught with uncertainty and pain.  It doesn't look neat and tidy. There aren't a list of rules or formulas by which to live.

When my kids were young, my primary focus was making sure they were doing their chores and behaving well.  If one or the other wasn't happening according to MY plan, MY timeline, MY agenda, MY expectations, then there was some sort of consequence.  Granted, I thought that those things were really God's plan, timeline, agenda, and expectations; but the truth is they were all designed to keep me ok inside.  I mean, I didn't want to fail as a parent and I didn't want my children to be ax murderers (or worse), so I had to make sure I was carefully watching and correcting every. single. mistake.

I once heard Sally Clarkson tell a story about a young mom who came to her very distraught because she couldn't get her two-year-old daughter to obey her.  Every time she asked her to go wash her daughter to go wash hands, her daughter wouldn't (or didn't) obey.  So the mom would reprimand and discipline her daughter and tell her to go wash her hands again.  Apparently the daughter was not very compliant as the mom was asking Sally for help to get her to obey the first time, every time.

Sally lovingly showed the mom that the best way to handle a two-year-old is with lots of love and affection, kissing the little hands and face that need washing, and with lots of hugs and snuggles and "I love yous" go to the bathroom together to get those sweet little hands clean.

With chagrin, when I heard the story, I knew I had been that mom.  I was the one who was looking for immediate obedience and oftentimes becoming a harsh mama to enforce the rules and regulations of the house so that my children would obey.  Harshness and intimidation seemed to produce obedient children, and since that was, as I was given to understand, a most important result of correct parenting, I used it regularly.  And sadly, there's still some unrighteous fruit being born of those years of misguided methods.  Thankfully, God has opened my eyes and given me an increased awareness of what love looks like and how to be a loving parent, thereby showing me how to allow His healing to come into those damaged relationships.

Hearing Sally's story was a turning point for me.  I began to examine my parenting and adjusting as I became aware.  I read her books: Mission of Motherhood, Ministry of Motherhood, and Heartfelt Discipline.  Later I was introduced to other parenting books like Parenting with Love and Logic by Cline and Fay and Loving Our Kids on Purpose by Danny Silk.

I became increasingly aware of how little love I was demonstrating and how much fear was dominating my parenting: fear that I wouldn't train my kids well, fear that I wouldn't teach them what they need to know, fear that my mistakes and their mistakes would overpower the plans and purposes of God.  Sometimes that fear looked like love.  I wasn't a bad parent, I know.  I did lots of good things with and for my kids.  I didn't beat them or berate them.  But I didn't lavish love on them simply because I didn't know how.  I thought correcting them and letting them know what they needed to do better WAS loving, and there is place for that in love, but I was doing those things mostly out of FEAR of how their mistakes were going to affect me and not LOVE.

Today, I am a different parent, I hope.  I've turned my course towards one of developing relationships based on love instead of on rules, fear, and perfectionism.

So, what do I wish I would've known sooner?

How to dial down the fear and trust in God.  How to let His love be the source of my attitudes, intentions, and motivations.  How to really know that my mistakes would in no way derail God's love for my kids.  How to parent from a place of love instead of fear.

Now that I'm aware, I repent often (to God and to my kids) for my unloving, unrighteous attitudes, intentions, and motivations. I cry out to God for more grace and increased awareness of His love, allow Him to parent my heart, turn to Him moment by moment.

I have a messy house since love moved in.  Chores aren't always assigned which means they aren't usually done; rooms aren't always picked up.  The dust is getting thicker by the minute, and my kids aren't obeying the first time every time. I'm on a steep learning curve, and I've had to let go of a lot in order to focus my energies on this new way of living.

But love is happening.  Relationships are happening.  We are laughing and enjoying one another more.  We are learning what loving responses look like and how to stop the unloving ones.  And in the process, hearts are mending, love is flowing, and I am letting go of control and trusting God more each day.

1 Peter 4:8 "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins"

Love

Learning this new way of relating in love is challenging.

In the past, I resorted often to irritation, frustration, anger, intimidation, withdrawal...all tools I used to send messages to those around me (i.e. my kids) that what they were doing was not acceptable in my book and that the behavior needed to change in order for me to be ok.

I was powerless, or at least acting like I was.

Then I was introduced to books like Parenting with Love and Logic and Loving Our Kids on Purpose and, most recently, Empowering the Transfer of Moral Values.  I became increasingly aware that these tools, while seemingly effective at getting what I wanted done, were creating distance, pain, and brokenness in the relationships most important to me.

I didn't want to do that anymore.

So I've gone on a journey of learning to love my kids, of allowing God to parent my heart and root out those self-focused tools and replace them with His love.

I'm far from perfect, and some days it's so hard to put down the old tools and pick up the new ones because learning to do things a new way is time-consuming and "inefficient" (i.e. my agenda is not happening in the time-frame I think is important) and requires me to trust God like never before.

However, I never want to go back to the old way of doing things.  Things are messy on this journey: lists of all sorts have gone out the window as God knows they keep me from fully embracing this season of learning to love selflessly, learning to rightly relate to Him and my family.

I'm grateful that He's opened my eyes to the fruit of the old tools so that I can stop doing those things and embrace love instead.

Space

I haven't had much space this past year to move past the thoughts in my head to the keyboard at the computer.  Truth is, the words have ended up on pages in journals as time spent at my desk in front of a keyboard and monitor has been minimal.  Email gets checked on my super smart phone as does Facebook and Instagram which leaves little other reason to sit at my desk. So this space here has been neglected and a part of me that has enjoyed blogging has too.

Part of that also comes with this season of life where God has me focused on rightly relating to my children and husband.  I can't be relational when my back is to them, and I'm facing a computer.  I admit, my phone does distract me, but it's much smaller and somehow usually easier for me to set down and focus on the person at hand.

I hope to be more regular about my writing now that I've managed to find some space again in my head for it and share more about this journey into loving my children and my family well.  It all started with a blog I read over here.

See you soon.

It's our anniversary

It's our anniversary, and to break out of my blogging slump, I want to write a post about my man who is definitely God's gift to me.

If you read our story I started to chronicle a couple of years ago, you can learn about how we met and the first few years of our marriage.  It's a good story and one I hope to continue when this brain freeze is over.  Right now there's window open for the man I love.

He is gracious.  Truly gracious.  He never nags me about the stuff on the floor, the piles by the bed, the dust on the blinds, the stains in the carpet, the laundry not folded, the lack of food in the house, the to-do list not done.  Never.

His is generous.  If someone needs his help or wants to borrow his truck or is looking for a piano player, he almost never says no.  He only says no if it interferes with our family, in which case, that is definitely a good time to say no.  If he knows of a financial need, he wants to give as much as he can.  If I ask him about giving towards a certain need, he always says yes.

He is smart.  Let me give you an example. Way back when he decided to get a job in computers, I freaked out.  I freaked out because at that time I knew more about computers than he did and the job he wanted required way more than I knew (which was plenty, by the way).  He bought some books, took a month or so to read and study, and then went and got himself a computer help desk job. And he continues to learn and grow and work in the field some fifteen years later.

He is loving.  He has worked long hours at jobs he hasn't always loved to provide for us the very best he can.  He comes home and eats dinner with us most nights, even when I know a lot of times he'd rather crawl into a cave somewhere and be quiet.  This is most remarkable since dinner at our house is the opposite end of the spectrum from cave and quiet.  He listens to me and rarely tries to fix me.  He goes to marriage classes, parenting classes, and finance classes with me and occasionally reads a book on those subjects so he can see where I'm coming from.

He is sexy.  I'll just leave that one right there.

He is my husband who I could continue to go on about, but errands call and I still hope to get to some of those piles of stuff and dust in our bedroom before he comes home from work...

I love you, hon.  I'm so glad to be on this journey with you. I wouldn't want it any other way.

When hopelessness and discouragement are loud

I went to the home school book fair yesterday.  It's an annual event for me - 2 days with encouraging speakers and tons of vendors with amazing products.  I've been going for 10+ years, or so my name tag says.  All this means is that I am a veteran book fair go-er.

This year is different in that I didn't attend any of the speakers and only walked the vendor floor for the afternoon.  I bought very little (in comparison with previous years), and I have little-to-no clear plan for our upcoming school year.  Heck, I'm just trying to finish this current one up well and graduate my first student.

Success.

Except yesterday as I perused books and manipulatives (subconsciously looking for that magical item that will make next year amazing, thrill my kids, and entice them to love, love, love learning), I was feeling anything BUT success and a sense of accomplishment.

I felt like a failure.

All of my mistakes and mishaps and insecurities loomed larger than life, and discouragement and hopelessness walked close behind.  I know better than to partner with them, but I will say that the battle was fierce.

It only increased when I got home.  Children left in the care of my oldest had been sent to their rooms twice because of fighting in my absence, and that intensified into a major meltdown by one of them as I imperfectly addressed the situation.  Escalating with each passing minute, it was everything I could do to not pull out the old tools of anger and intimidation to manage the chaos in my heart and mind and circumstances.

I went to bed exhausted and discouraged and woke up feeling the weight of past mistakes, the most recent ones of the night before stretching way back into the past.

As I was processing all of this with the Lord this morning, He spoke this to my heart:

You are imagining an outcome void of My Presence and My redeeming power.  You are seeing your perceived mistakes and failures as being bigger than Me at work in and through you. That "weight of past mistakes" is a false burden.  Did I not die to take your place? Does that weight ever rest on your shoulders? Do these cares and worries not belong to Me?

And as these words are washing over my heart and soul and  mind, His peace enters in.  Those vain imaginations [1] were taken captive and the truth of His Presence ever present with me throughout, of His power at work within me [2], of His promise to never leave me [3] and to be my children's Teacher [4] settled back into place and set my heart at rest in His Presence once again.

Hope was restored to its rightful place.

My hope does not rest in an outcome or temporary event (although, obviously, sometimes it does get misplaced there).  It rests in God who is the Author and Perfector of my faith...and of my children's lives.

He's got this.  He takes it all and makes it for my good and His glory.

I can rest secure in His unfailing love.  It never gives up.

1) 2  Corinthians 10:5 "Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ;"

2) Ephesians 3:20 "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"
3) Joshua 1:5 "I will never leave you nor forsake you"

4) Isaiah 54:13 "All your children will be taught by the Lord, and great will be their peace."