There's a Cemetery Next Door

We moved to our new home in January and there is a cemetery at the end of the road, only one block with one house sits between. I would say about 3 times a month, the workers are out digging and putting up the tent for the funeral.

I once heard a man recount how he would frequent cemeteries in order to face his own mortality. It's not often in this hectic world that we stop to think about such things. I, too often, find myself driven from one thing to the next - articles about the latest medical finding, nuclear threat or criminal act. Pictures and memes on social media that, let's be honest, I seriously can't remember 3 minutes after looking at them. It often boils down to "there was this hilarious meme I saw...but I can't exactly remember what the picture was..." A ghostly image, veiled and fleeting.

But the digging. The tents going up. The mounds that lay after, piled high with quickly dehydrating flowers. Those images seem to stick with me. Maybe it's the confrontation with my own mortality. How many days left on this earth, Lord? How many days to make a difference in the lives of those I love? Or in the lives of those I don't even know yet? How many days to point to the stones of remembrance, how You met me, saved me, reconciled me with those seemingly unreconcilable. How many days of breath and laughter and embraces from those who make my heart wrench with even the thought of their loss? How many days?

And how many days have You sustained? How many days have you held all things in perfect motion and order in my life. Though I often see trial and heartache, uncertainty and grief, the deepest of losses and the yet the greatest of joys - You have held all things in perfect order. I can look back and see how You alone have used the darkest days to bring the most light, the most searing moments to heal. You are good.

Thank you Lord for moving me a block from a cemetery. Help me never take for granted the days, no matter what they hold or have in store.

Wanna Be Healed?

I was recently talking with someone about a new phase in their life. It is always a joy to be invited into the soul mess of people you love. Not a joy because they are struggling, but a joy because in my opinion, those moments are when life happens.

Life happens when we are real with each other, when I sit and share that I too have experienced those feelings, those anxieties. I, too, have fought until the tears are streaming and the knuckles are clenched tight. Yes, I have walked out of the house, gotten in the car and driven through tear filled eyes, screaming at God for answers, angry. It's the sin of life. I'm not proud of it. I'm not boasting in my stupidity or weak moments. They were sinful moments that I'm not proud of. But, they are the real me. The real life. The realest of real ugliness.

And in those ugly moments, in my weakness, His strength is revealed. When I drove away in the car, angry, frustrated and at wits end...He met me and spoke forgiveness, healing, and peace. When I fight with my soulmate, He speaks gentleness and grace. When I get anxious, He speaks He has already gone before.

And so, I sit across the table and share. I share the details of my heart, my feelings, my pain, my life experience. Because at some point, I pray my pain helps someone. I pray my experience can be a learning tool of what to do (or in more cases...what NOT to do). I hope by sharing...by bringing my dark moments to the light, that someone may benefit.

"Confess your sin one to another and pray for one another, that you may be healed." James 5:16

Our confession of sin is not meant as a moment of shame, though that feeling may accompany the sinful choices we make, it's not the end goal. It's not a command to drag yourself through the mud just for the sake of dragging yourself through the mud. It's there so that we may be healed. So. That. You. May. Be. Healed. The healing comes in bringing those sins into the light to other believers. It comes in allowing them to pray with us over those things. It comes in knowing that you aren't alone in the struggle of sin and that others have been there. We weren't meant to walk this road alone. My prayer is that in my sharing of the struggle to walk through life honoring Christ and submitting life to Him as best I can, I can encourage others to do the same.

The Road Ahead of Me....

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

— Thomas Merton

The God of detail

I have recently been drawn to the Old Testament. I reread the stories of the plagues on Egypt, Moses' life, the trek to the Promised Land, Joshua leading them in. Then I jumped over to 1 Samuel and read about Samuel, the begging for a King, the appointment of Saul, the appointment of David and Saul's pursuit to take his life.

I enjoyed reading these things again and finding small details I had missed before...like...

-- Some of the plagues only affected the Egyptians and didn't affect the Israelites (not just the Angel of the Death, but others as well)

--Saul threw a spear at his own son (Jonathan) because he was so angry that David wasn't at dinner. Don't worry Jonathan survived.

-- Samuel, the priest, hacked King Agag to pieces. 1 Sam 15:33

--There's a lot more, but for time sake I will move on. Go read it!!

I am continually amazed at the amount of detail in these stories. My pastor says it's there to prove the voracity of scripture, which I totally understand and agree with. But I also see that it points to the Lord's care of the details of our lives.

He cares deeply about our details.

How many times have you heard of someone receiving the exact amount of money they needed for an unexpected bill? Or having some uncertain issue and just running into someone who has the exact answer they need at just the moment they needed it. Or how about "the number of hairs on your head being numbered." I love my kids dearly, but I guarantee you I have no idea how many hairs they have...I wouldn't even know a ballpark. A million? A billion? A trillion minus what I find in the drain everyday? But He knows. 

I believe He meets us in these moments to show how present He is. He had that check on the way in the mail before you knew the bill even existed. He fashioned the movement of time and space (and traffic lights and diaper changes) to ensure that you met that plumber on aisle 5 at Home Depot to get the answer to why your toilet just exploded and is flooding your bathroom while you desperately try to find the parts to fix it.  OH...and he knew which parts you needed. 

He does this to show how much He cares for you. How about this one..."For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son..." The World....the world...the world...all 6 billion of us. But what if you changed it up a bit and put your name in that spot....

For God so loved Julie that He gave His only begotten Son so that if Julie would believe in Him she would have everlasting life.

I know for me, I so often lump myself in "the world" that I can tend to forget how deeply personal that God of ours really is. He is intensely personal. He cares how many hairs are on your head for crying out loud. And if He cares about something most of us never even think of (receding hairlines and thinning hair moments excluded), how much more does He care about your flooded bathroom, the bills that cause tears to come, or the loved one you grieve over. 

He is present. He cares about the details. He wants to hear about your days. Your heartaches, Your pain. Your stress. Your joys. Your laughter. Your kids' laughter. Your excitement over the bills paid and the toilets fixed. He marked the details of the Old Testament (and New Testament) because they mattered then and they matter now. Share with Him. He not only wants to know the moments of your life, He has all the answers. 

Norah is FIVE!!!

And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!
So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go!

Norah turns 5 years old today. Stop my ever-lovin' mama heart, how can this child be FIVE?? That means I've been a mama for half a decade already and sweet mercy time just can't be going that fast. 

The first time I read her "Oh the Places You'll Go" I cried like a baby. She was only 3 or so and I was pregnant, so I blame the hormones. But the book totally spoke to me about the potential in this little girl. She is amazing. And here are some things you need to know about her. 

1. She can read! It's a new accomplishment and one that all of us Formans are pretty stoked about. But this little newly five year old sat down a few weeks ago and read The Cat in the Hat to her sister. On Christmas Day, she read me a couple pages from Little House in the Big Woods. I couldn't be prouder. She has worked hard and pushed past her loathing of "sounding it out" and she's getting better everyday. 

                                         

2. She is a crafty. We once went through 500 sheets of construction paper in a week. No. Lie. She once recruited me and her siblings to make sure we wrote enough notes for every single person at our church to have one. She had an assembly line going where she would write the note, I would stuff the envelope, sis would lick and stick and lil bro would just look on adoringly. It was very important for her make sure everyone had one. We have a desk for her and it is always overflowing with papers, markers, glue, tape, scissors, stickers, glitter glue and anything that can be glued to a paper. I actually made her a craft box and included pieces of straws, rubber bands, dry beans, old beads, buttons and yarn. They have all....ALL...ended up stuck to a page somehow.

   

Those are leaves from a bush out front. She pulled them off and started asking me for glue and paper. Why not?!

That is painter's tape. A mom's best friend in my humble option. They can stick it anywhere and it will come off without leaving a mark. And if they wrap themselves like a mummy? Well, it's hilarious to watch them try to jump around the room. 

3. Thumbs Up! She will give you a thumbs up to indicate that she is on board with the gameplan, understands what you are saying or just in general likes the idea. We didn't initially know where this came from until one day at dinner when Dave gave the kids a few thumbs up, himself while eating. She is her daddy's girl.

4. She loves to talk to anyone. At the grocery store, at Walmart, in the Starbucks drive thru, the UPS delivery guy.... this girl will talk to anyone about what is important and going on in her life at the moment. When she learned my phone number, everyone in our small town got to hear it at the grocery store. They also knew all our names, ages and hair color.

5. She has the memory of an elephant. She remembers things from a year ago, 2 years ago, you name it. If I give her a few context clues about what we are discussing, she will nail it and often tell me more about the event or discussion than I remember. The funniest part about this gift is that she talks to me about things that happened months or years ago like they just happened yesterday. I confess it takes me a while to catch up. :-)

6. She cares deeply for her siblings. At her young age, this deep adoration of Emma and Hudson often comes in the form of acting like a little mama. She reminds them of things they are supposed to do or not do, brings them books, and reads with them. Multiple mornings I have gotten out of bed to find her already up making toast and setting the table for breakfast. One day we all had plates with a banana, apple, buttered toast and cups of milk. Except for me. She remembered I don't like milk so well, but I love water, so I had a cup of water (see #5!!). She is currently helping Emma potty train by sitting with her reading her books while Emma sits on the potty. She will remind Hudson to "don't eat the crayons, baby love!!!" And often asks to help me with my chores. She is a pro at washing windows, emptying trashcans, and wiping up spills. She is the best firstborn daughter I could have asked for. :-)

Giving Emma a ride on the motorized car. 

                                     

Dr. Norah needed to bandage some boo-boos. Note the antiseptic spray on the floor. 

Wagon rides at the farm. She pulled them all over the place!

Reading to the Reds while they potty train. 

Feeding "baby Emma" in Hudson's seat.

7. She is hospitable. If you have spent any amount of quality time with this girl, she has undoubtedly invited you over to our house for a meal. If you are extra special, you have probably gotten invited to spend the night...no matter that you are in your 50s and have your own family to care for. That excuse won't work with her. She will just invite the rest of your family to come along as well.

This is her best bud, Wyatt. With an underwear hat. She asked him to spend the night. You should too. Underwear hats not required.

8. She is tough. Recently, NJ (my nickname for her) got pretty sick and had to be admitted to the hospital and part of her treatment included IV fluids. The nurse explained the pinch that was coming and thankfully she was a pediatric oncology nurse before she came to our small hospital so she hit that little dehydrated vein the first shot. Norah flinched and stiffened up but she didn't scream or cry or jerk at all. She took it like a champ. She falls down and draws blood and just jumps up saying "I'M OK!!!" She flips, falls and crashes, but she's always ok.

That would be NJ vs. concrete porch. Tough kid.

9. She is adventurous. One of her favorite memories is going exploring with her dad in a culvert by our local Starbucks. They ventured down in there together, walked the whole length of the thing, popping out the other side and trucking up a hill to Home Depot. They explored every single pre-fab building in the Home Depot parking lot. She is always wanting to explore, adventure and go to places undiscovered. She works hard to climb to the highest points of things and isn't afraid of taking the risk of falling.

Rock Climbing

Climbing the brush pile at the new house. Dave is in the pic for scale. It's a huge pile.

More brush pile madness. Mama anxieties were a lil high on this one. :-)

                               
                        So this was all her idea. Hilarious. If it doesn't play click HERE.


10. She is sensitive. On the same hospital visit mentioned above, she had her IV in one hand and a BP cuff going on the other arm. She was crying a little because the cuff was pretty tight, and then kept crying after it was over and when I asked why she was so upset, she whimpered while holding up both her arms straight in front of her.... "mooooooom, I can't even wipe my own tears!!" I jumped in her bed as fast as a mama ever has, wiped those tears and held that baby. She easily misses friends, even the brand new ones that she has known for a whopping 30 minute park interaction and if you leave without a hug, there will be lots of tears.

This is a boy we met and played with at the park for 30 minutes. Now, 2 months later, she still wonders how he is and "misses" him.

My dearest girl, you are a force to be reckoned with. I say this not because you are angry or fierce or with any negative connotation at all. I say it because you have spent your life being a light to those around you. Did you know your name means "light?" Before your dad and I even considered having kids, I knew if we had a girl, her name would be Norah. Little did I know you would fit it's meaning so perfectly. You naturally exude joy, love, and the thrill of learning more and more about yourself, others and the world. Your heart is full to bursting with love, concern and excitement for those around you. You seek to help people in anyway you can. And most of the time you do it joyfully. Never lose that desire, it will serve you well. You live life wide open, all day, every day. My prayer is that I can teach you to harness those things and use them to benefit and serve those around you and that you never lose these heart cries. People are precious to us because they are precious to God, right kiddo? Keep painting, coloring, glueing, making presents and impressing me with your ability to affix anything anywhere. Your dad and I promise to invest in as much construction paper as you need. You made me a mama. And I am so blessed that God entrusted you to us for this season. I love your face. 

Emma is THREE

Emma turns three years old today, and in honor of this occasion I thought it only fitting to give her a little blog face time.

                                       

Things you should know about Emma...

1. Her dad named her. We were having trouble coming up with a name, and Dave absolutely loved the sound of Emma Grace. After I threw out 10 billion other ideas...including Penelope and Ava and some really weird ones I can't even remember now, we both agreed that Emma was it. And I'm so glad we did.

2. Her birth plan required a re-working of normal C-section procedures. My previous birth was pretty tough, so when it came time for Emma's planned C-section, I stumbled upon a YouTube video called "The Natural Caesarean." My doctor was gracious to provide me his personal email address and together we agreed that we could talk to the hospital staff about implementing some of the ideas presented to make the birth experience more pleasant for me. So after months of back and forth emails and planning, the day came for Emma to arrive and everyone was on board with a change of workflow in the OR. They lowered the curtain so I could see her being pulled out of my belly and I immediately got to kiss her bloody, wet, vernix covered face. She was only out of my sight for about 20 minutes the first day of her birth and I loved every second of it.

3. She has renamed our family members. One day, a few months ago, E casually announced to me that she had a sister name Sally and a brother named John. She began referring to her siblings by these new names in everyday conversation. "Hey Sa-we, do you wike dis song?" At first, Norah...ahem...Sally didn't like this change and would protest to the utmost, but Emma, being relentless, wouldn't let up and eventually Sally came to terms with her new name. My favorite recollection of the use of these names was when the ladies of the house were headed out to party and Dave was to stay home with Hudson. As we were leaving, she shouted "DAAAAADDDD...be sure to keep an eye on John!!!" Her parents have also been renamed as Peter and Popcorny. I'll let you guess who is which. :-)

4. She is hilarious. And she doesn't even try to be. She doesn't intentionally try to be cute and funny. Some kids do things to be cute or get attention, not Emma. It's just part of her DNA. Her facial expressions, her ideas, her body movements...she is just hilarious. If she has ever looked at you with her confused face, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

She wandered out from nap time like this. I have no idea where she found the hat. 

5. She enjoys quiet time, flipping through books, alone. As long as Emma could walk, I would and do always find her alone somewhere flipping through a pile of books. Some of the stories she remembers and will verbalize them as she goes. Sometimes she will just make up the story if she can't remember what it's about. And sometimes she just flips and looks in complete silence. She loves to "read" and be read to, and is absolutely content in this space.

I'm sorry but do you see her crossed legs?! It's like she's in college studying for finals on the quad or something.

6. She has a fantastic memory. As is evidenced by her ability to remember the words to songs. Which leads me to......

7. She loves to sing. This video was recorded back in May 2015 when she was only 2 years 4 months old. Make sure you watch it because it encompasses numbers 7, 6 and 4 above. And it will make you smile and laugh and that will make your day better. (If the video below doesn't work, you can click HERE to view it online.)

8. She has been my only child to warrant a true emergency room visit (to date). And it wasn't even really her fault. He pinky toe was accidentally slammed in a door and partially amputated just before her second birthday. She got some stitches, lots of whatever she wanted for weeks, and handled it like a champ. All is well now, it doesn't even show a scar. I'll spare you the pictures though. :-)

Christmas Day 2015 dress up

9. She enjoys...dressing up and pretending to be a baby. She also loves it when Norah makes her a "bed" to sleep in. And she is my snuggler. This girl will snuggle like no other. My other children, do. not. do. the. snuggling.

I helped her put the dress on. The rest was alllllll her!!

                 

Playing "Baby" with big sis

Norah built this "bed" out of my chair for them to watch a show from.

My only snuggle buddy! 

10. She has the most amazing hair on the planet. I left this one for last because if you've seen it (at least if you've seen it on a good day), you know it's the truth. It's nothing anyone can take credit for, but it is just more evidence of her awesomeness.

This is with no product people. Be jealous. She can take it.

My dearest Emma, you light up my life, girlfriend. From the way you tumble out of bed in the morning, bleary eyed, clutching that beloved white blanket and stumble down the hall to the way you jump all catty-wompas, legs flailing when you get excited. I am so blessed to be your mom. I cherish all the moments I get to just watch you exploring this big world and figuring out how you fit in it. I love watching your facial expressions as you figure out a problem and your smile and laugh when you solve it. Let's always put puzzles together, ok? You make me laugh and smile and your innocence is a beautiful thing. You are forever my favorite Emma (and I hope I am forever your favorite mama.) All my love beautiful one.

That time I got to spend 2 days in the hospital...

So I have had 3 babies. All delivered via C-section. Not my first choice, but it is what it is and life travels on. So, the only time I have been a patient in the hospital is snuggled with a newborn and a 6 inch belly incision. Let me just say, adjustable hospital beds?... the bomb dot com. Especially when you have a 6 inch incision and a newborn in one of those little clear bassinets. I swear that bassinet is "the man's" way of introducing you to the new ways in which you will contort your body to reach your baby. It starts with bassinets in hospitals, moves to the awkward angles you dare not move from, lest you wake the sleeping princess, and continues on to shoulder dislocation reaching into the back seat from the front in your minivan. It's a slippery slope people.

So, I was admitted last week and diagnosed with "bronchitis with asthma exacerbation." I have looked those words up and separately I understand them, but smoosh (yes, I said smoosh) them all together and I'm sort of at a loss. Apparently, I have asthma now? As a adult who has never had any kind of breathing issues....ever. That is a topic for another day because now that I have my laptop back and I'm not supposed to leave my bed, the research gene has been initiated and my keyboard is on FI-AH (that's "fire" for those who don't know my penchant for re-writing words.) I'm calling some environmental or food allergen out, but don't have enough evidence for a conviction yet.

So I have been laid up for 6 days now, either in the hospital or at home. Unable to walk around without coughing and doing nebulizer treatments, steroids and all manner of lovely drugs. On a side note, the boy-child absolutely loves to turn on the nebulizer machine for me. The smoke billowing out of the mask makes him almost as happy as a cookie....almost.

Last night, I missed celebrating Christmas with the hubs and kids and in laws at Camp Tejas - an apparently super cool Christmas spot near our home. Lights, Fireworks, Inflatables, fake snow and sledding. So I was bummed. And I texted a friend about my bummy-ness (see, more made up words).

Her response went a little something like this:

For now, this is your "new normal." It's like being impatient for your kids to speak and once they do they never stop. God has made you STOP for a bit. Rest in His goodness to you. Life will continue on the other end of all this. Press on precious one. 

So, of course, this got me to thinking about resting. God proclaims Sabbath rest as one of the 10 Commandments. So obviously it's important. I mean, He named it up there with don't murder. DON'T MURDER. DON'T STEAL. DON'T LIE....and REST.

Why does it seem so difficult that God could favor "the rest" over "the work?" Does anyone else struggle with this? In our society of drivenness and self-sufficiency, it seems so counterintuitive that He could align the need for rest with the need for not killing someone. Obviously, the consequences for those sins will be different on earth, point being, God sees rest as vitally important.

I feel like I so often embrace rest as a failure or as "less than" the work I have in front of me. We mamas tend to do that, don't we? The kids NEED us. We push past the pains of tired eyes and aching bodies and minds that are wearied to the bone in favor of folding that last pair of size 2Ts. Don't get me wrong, a strong work ethic and drive are essential for a successful and full life. But He calls our rest vital. How do we reconcile that?

How do I reconcile that for the last 6 days I have not played any games, poured any milk or changed any diapers (well, there was one...)? How do I reconcile that the lack of work is God's idea for me in these days? That His plan for me is to lay in bed. That somehow He can take this illness and make it glory? I don't have answers. I've read books, watched the Braverman's (oh bless the creators of Parenthood!), coughed 'til I'm sore, had migraines, slept and slathered myself with essential oils. And somehow, He will be able to use even this...even THIS... for His glory?

In my pride, I want His glory to be found in my selfless dedication to my children. In my pride, I want Him to shine through my singing or writing or effective disciplining of my children. I don't want Him to shine through the countless women bringing meals and caring for my kids. My American self-sufficient, sin-ridden, prideful self rises up against that. My sin nature bucks the sweet rest that this army of servants have afforded me in this hour of need.

If I'm honest, I want Him to be found glorious in the things I do for Him. Deep down, I don't know how to handle it when He chooses to find glory in how others serve me or in the times when I fall utterly feeble. I want Him to be found in my strength, not in my weakness.

And then, He speaks. Clear and quiet with a calm that rushes over my soul....

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Oh Lord, may I always be found to rest in Your perfect will and timing. That You alone know what is best for me and that You Lord receive glory from this life in whatever ways You choose.

Guest Post: Dancing in the Rain

As you may or may not have heard, I was in the hospital last week. Bronchitis with Asthma Exacerbation...apparently I have asthma now?! What. The. Heck. I want a second opinion.

Anyway, I'm home and resting. And I wanted to share that I got to guest post last week over at Red Tent Living again. Love those writers. They do all the good feels for my soul.

Check it out....riiiiiiiiiiight.....oooooooover......here

More about being a hospital and bedridden mama for 6 days to come soon.....

Do you wuv you?

I love playing this game with my kids where I whisper to them...

"Do you know what?"

"Whut mama?"

"I love you!"

Emma particularly loves it and takes it a step further...

"I wuv you too mama......and I wuv Norwah and Hudson and Daddy and myself and YOU!"

"I love Norah and Hudson and Daddy too, Emma!"

"Mama?...Do you wuv you?"

Wait...whaaaaat? Do I love me? Does that feel like a strange question to anyone else?

We have a policy of answering honestly in our home, and so I didn't feel like I could just flippantly say Yes. Because sometimes, I don't love myself as much as I love all these people under my roof. Sometimes, I love them exponentially more than I love myself. I answered her with a yes, but ya know how God uses our kids to refine us? He was, in this moment, and speaking through 2 year old lips.

I think it struck me weirdly because most people in our society view loving yourself as a bad thing, as an arrogance that stinks rank. We prefer words like pamper or "treating myself". When often (not always, but often) all we are doing is using some external force to fill a love void. And we find that it works for a bit. But, next day, we are back at it again, fighting the lies we hear in our heads - be it from the enemy or from harsh words spoken or action done all those years ago. I seem to fight almost daily with loving myself. I don't want to love myself too much because that's pride and arrogance, but I keep hearing that I can't love anyone else well until I love myself. And what does that kind of love look like?

I think for me, in this season, it looks like grace. Grace for the moments when I an undone. Undone can come in so many different ways for all of us, but for a mama of 3 small kids in the middle of a move in the middle of the holidays it comes in the form of my home. I seriously think there must be some frat boyz hiding out in the closets. My theory is that they all emerge after we are asleep and move with stealth-like ninja quickness to watch my TV, nosh on Cheetos and soda, play with my kids toys, throwing them aimlessly around my house, and then strip naked and leave their laundry both in clean piles in baskets and dirty...well...just everywhere (like, I seriously found a dirty sock in the hairbrush drawer. Seriously, frat boyz?) And they all must be carrying around bottles of Febreeze. Cause it don't smell like frat house up in here, but it sho' do look like one. So if anyone comes visiting...just blame it on the frat boyz.

I mean, seriously, I woke up today hearing all this condemnation about how I should kick out the frat boyz and grow up and be the 34 year old mom that I am and have a spotless house. Did I mention we are moving in like 10 days? And that I have 3 small children? And that I'm packing this place up mostly by myself? And trying to buy the Christmas gifts? And figure out where to ship the gifts because we have no permanent address at the moment? So...grace.

Grace for myself that I am hospitable and the frat boyz can stay until we move into the new place. (But then it's gonna be all "You ain't got to go home, but 'chu gotsta get the heck outta here!") And the Christmas tree may not go up this year. And the presents will come, at some point, to some address, somewhere. Grace that the kids will survive a year without starting any kind of Forman traditions. Grace that crockpot meals are fantastic and beautiful sides prepared with loving care are for the birds when you're moving. Pizza and Movies. Pizza is acceptable and movies essential in this season. And paper plates. And grace to laugh off the things that don't really matter at all or that I can't control. For example, our new house was ordered with 2 sets of porches and stairs....and we have 3 doors. C'est la vie. Grace is the name of the game for wrapping up 2015.

It just hit me....Emma was the one who asked me if I loved myself and started this whole train of thought. And Emma's middle name? Grace. How fitting.

Sisters

“A sister is both your mirror – and your 

opposite.”

– Elizabeth Fishel

These two sisters couldn't be more opposite. One, an independent, make-sure-everyone-follows-the-rules, but tender-hearted, kind of girl. She loves her family fiercely and has been known to go through a pack of 500 sheets of construction paper in a week. The other, a crazy-haired jokester who can make us laugh with the wrinkle of her brow. Books and quiet moments alone fill her soul brim-full. But she also wins the "Most likely to be found cuddling with mama and daddy" award.

I love these moments. When their worlds collide and I catch them enjoying life together. Interacting about the great green world around them and just being sisters. I pray the Lord blesses these sweetest of moments with His stickability and they continue to find themselves chatting about the simplest of things. 

The Soul Mess: Guest Posting Today!!

I am super excited to let you all know that I am guest blogging over at RedTentLiving.com today.

This is the first time I've submitted anything to Red Tent, so I'm humbled and honored to be blogging alongside some amazing women with breathtaking stories.

Just click here to go check it out!


A little about Red Tent Living:

Red Tent Living is an invitation.  Here, women come to just be and be together.  Amidst all of the impossible, confusing, and shaming ideas of what femininity is in our culture today, we find respite and meaning in gathering together and sharing our lives with one another.  Your femininity is not an essence to be quickly taken in, nor is it contained in the labels of your age, location, season of life, or vocation.  That is why in this venue, we choose to reframe what it is to be a woman.

There is power in regular connecting and honest sharing. Our own gatherings and discussions can become places of rest, becoming, and creativity.  We don’t need to let other people define femininity for us…we can do that together.

God's back in dark seasons

All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all that I have not seen ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have recently come out a darker season of life. Those moments when I'm not sure which way is up because I let the enemy speak too loudly. I let him murmur a little too long in my ear. And I find my self upside down and sideways because I have replaced the clear voice of the Father with the dull pain of the enemy's condemnation and lies. He [the devil] was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth because there is no truth in him. When he lies he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies. (John 8:44)

But now on the other side of this dark season, I see the Lord more clearly. I see how His hand was moving and working for my good...for His glory. His. Glory. Oh that I may be a tool for His use! For His glory! That He would mold and shape and make me into whatever brings Him the most praise and honor. That I would humbly bow and submit. For He knows all things. He holds all things. If it weren't for Him, to dust we would return. If He removed His hand but for a moment, all things would come shattering down. 

I was listening to One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp on Audible. (If you haven't read this book, do it. Just go buy it right now. Ah-may-zing....) She spoke so clearly to where I was....

Wasn't that too His way with Moses? "When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back. (Exodus 33:22-23 NIV) 

Is that it? When it gets dark, it's only because God has tucked me in a cleft of the rock and covered me, protected, with His hand? In the pitch, I feel like I'm falling, sense the bridge giving way, God long absent. In the dark, the bridge and my world shakes, cracking dreams. But maybe this is true reality: It is in the dark that God is passing by. The bridge and our lives shake not because God has abandoned, but the exact opposite: God is passing by. God is in the tremors. Dark is the holiest ground, the glory passing by. In the blackest, God is closest, at work, forging His perfect and right will. Though it is black and we can't see and our world seems to be free-falling and we feel utterly alone, Christ is most present to us, I-beam support in earthquake. Then He will remove His hand. Then we will look. Then we look back and see His back. 

I am so thankful that the Lord is near to me. That He hears when I call and He responds. I mean, seriously? The God of the Universe....responding to me?! Caring about me? Loving me? Listening to me lament my daily problems? I am thankful that He is near. That in the darkest of nights, He is passing by. 

Would I still be good?

I recently heard a story of a mother who accidentally mixed her one month old baby's formula with vodka. The baby is going to fine even after her blood alcohol level reached a staggering .29% (according to a USA Today article). But the child's toes turned red, her legs started shaking and she was rushed to the emergency room and then intensive care.

As I listened to the story being told while holding my middle born, I felt my gut tighten. What if that was my child? It was a total accident. Dad filled a water bottle with vodka to take it to a friends house and left it on the counter. But by the grace of God, it could totally be our home. (Not that we are in the habit of carrying vodka around in water bottles, but you get the point.) 

Then the whisper came: "Would I still be good?" 

Dads that die driving home from the job worked so hard to bring the bread and bacon.

Moms struck still in word. Cancer. 

"Would I still be good?"

Financial security ripped away when the oil drops and downsizing rises.

The spouse came to work with the news. I thought he had gotten fired. But no. Worse. Heart stopped beating. Lungs not filling. "Your dad died." 

"Am. I. still. good?"

I recently heard Tim Keller say that it's often hard for us to identify our idols. We often think we don't have any. So rather than trying to identify idols, begin to identify the things that would cause you to reject the goodness and sovereignty of God. Would the loss of anything in life, a child, a spouse, an identity, a social standing, anything, cause you to reject the goodness and sovereignty of God? Once you identify those things, you will know what your idols are.  (And that is grossly paraphrased. He is much more eloquent than I ever could be.)

So, the question has been coming to me often. Would I still be good? If your child dies? If the man I'm soul-joined with didn't come home one day be it from death or just a choice to walk away....would I question His goodness?

He stands by and doesn't intervene in situations when we think He should. When we scream "if You are so good, why didn't You stop this?! Why did You let someone do that to me? When things are precious to me, I don't just stand by while someone else utterly destroys them! Why didn't You stop this?" When the why's won't stop flooding our minds....how do we respond to Him then? IS HE STILL GOOD?

It's in these moments that we have to allow our minds to rule over our feelings. Where we stop the reckless rape of our minds by the enemy and cling tight to the shoulder of His robe, burying our face in His neck, knuckles white and fingers frozen in a grip that won't be let go of. This is where we fall, helpless, hopeless, confused and lost, but believing and trusting beyond all that we can see. He is who He says He is. And He says that He is good. His words are clear, black and white for all to see:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are my ways your ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts. (Isaiah 55:8-9)

He works all things together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. (Romans 8:28)

He is the same, yesterday and today and tomorrow. (Hebrews 13:5)

In Him is life. (John 1)

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord Your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. (Isaiah 43:2)

I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people, the people I formed for myself that they might declare my praise (Isaiah 43:20b-21)

Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is in the Lord. He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit. (Jeremiah 17:7-8)

This is not an exhaustive list...not by a long shot. Just a few verses the Lord popped to my mind. He is good. And nothing can change that. Not death, not life, not abuse, not abandonment, not financial ruin, not a car wreck or a diagnosis. Nothing can change who He is. And He is good. 

Oh Lord, may we run this race set before us with endurance. Teach us to take thoughts captive and submit them to your truth. We can know your character as clear as we see our faces in the mirror. Give us a hunger for your word and a hunger to know you more. Draw those who don't know you and find us faithful in the midst of the earthly. Amen. 

Before The Throne

I was listening to Francis Chan speak via YouTube the other day and I was taken by something he said. He talked about how when he prays, before he starts speaking, he thinks about the image of the throne of God from Revelation 4 and 5. He talked about how when he takes a few moments to visualize this it changes the tenor of his prayers. Take a moment to read them...

At once I was in the Spirit, and there before me was a throne in heaven with someone sitting on it. 3 And the one who sat there had the appearance of jasper and ruby. A rainbow that shone like an emerald encircled the throne.4 Surrounding the throne were twenty-four other thrones, and seated on them were twenty-four elders. They were dressed in white and had crowns of gold on their heads.5 From the throne came flashes of lightning, rumblings and peals of thunder. In front of the throne, seven lamps were blazing. These are the seven spirits of God. 6 Also in front of the throne there was what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal.

In the center, around the throne, were four living creatures, and they were covered with eyes, in front and in back. 7 The first living creature was like a lion, the second was like an ox, the third had a face like a man, the fourth was like a flying eagle. 8 Each of the four living creatures had six wings and was covered with eyes all around, even under its wings. Day and night they never stop saying:

“‘Holy, holy, holy

is the Lord God Almighty,’

who was, and is, and is to come.”

...

Then I looked and heard the voice of many angels, numbering thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand. They encircled the throne and the living creatures and the elders. 12 In a loud voice they were saying:

“Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain,

to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength

and honor and glory and praise!”

Revelation 4:2-8 and Revelation 5:11-12

I was raised in a generation that has tried to make God more "seeker friendly." I grew up hearing that God was just like my best friend, that I could talk to Him just like I do anyone else. That He could handle my screaming and arguing and mess. And the life that He and I have lived hand in hand over the last 27 years has proven that He can handle my hot mess ugly cries. He is not swayed by them. He is not wringing His hands, walking the floor of heaven frustrated, angry or looking at me in disbelief. He is solidly on His throne, surrounded by (at least) 100 Million angels.

Unfortunately, in our attempts to make Him more accessible and less "angry and judgmental" to a seeking world, we have stripped Him of the awe we should have in His presence. I mean, if I stop and visualize those images from Revelation before I speak to the Lord, my prayers change dramatically. I no longer stand in His presence asking for the petty things. My prayers automatically become more respectful, more awe-inspired, more peaceful and I no longer see myself standing in the presence of God. I am on my knees, without option, laid out before the God who spoke breath into my lungs and who by His word holds all things together. I mean, the fact that we and all our filthy rags can even enter into His presence is humbling. Add to it that we can enter into His presence, speak to Him, He hears us and answers us? I mean, are there words for that? He. Answers. Me. A being that can utter a whisper and create life has a desire to speak to me. To hear me. To answer me. What do I choose to bring Him? Do I bring Him the eternal matters? Or the stupidity of my days? Do I bring Him the heart aches and soul groans for those who don't know Him and the pain of living in this fallen world? 

Lord, may I bring to Your throne the things that matter. The bigger picture. And when I bring them, may I leave them with You. Trusting that You alone can orchestrate this life into something beautiful and honoring to You. And thank You, Lord, that just like a parent, You delight in Your children. You delight in our honor and respect of Your rightful place. And You delight in the simple things that we bring You as well. May we find the balance of the Big and Small as we grow in relationship with You.