Invaded by Insecurity.

It happened again last night at church. Right in the 4th row, I began to unravel.

Distracted yet again, while three women I love shared their experience. 

They were asked to share their experience with  staying home or working and that is when the record scratched in my soul. 

There I was invaded yet again, by feelings of doubt, shame and assumed judgment.  

When people ask me about finding their call or what they should do, I always say, "Do what makes you come alive. Do the thing that when you're in it, you feel closer to Jesus". 

This is how I feel in serving in ministry.  I am more alive and most of the time, I feel pretty good about that. I will feel joy and gratitude that I get to be on the front lines and watch children meet Jesus. I have a hand in telling them the amazing works of our Creator for the first time. How lucky am I that I get to speak into creating places where kids experience God in a way they will never forget? I also feel really good about eating lunch with adults and other perks of working. I feel blessed to be invited to lead. 

That is until the place where someone else has been invited into is highlighted and I feel like mine is overlooked. 

I know that I am serving and doing E X A C T L Y what the Lord made me to do. I try not to take that for granted. 

That is until someone else talks about what the Lord made them to do and then I question everything. 

Last night, when the women shared their experiences about taking a break from work, I was floored with uncertainty.  

I asked the Lord, "Did I hear you wrong, is that what I am supposed to be doing right now? Should I be staying home?"

He replied, "Talk to me about supposed to".  

This was about what supposed to implies. It implies that something is expected.  *Insert the plight of meeting others expectations and being an Enneagram 3w2 here. 

It was almost like the words He spoke to Eve in the garden, "Who told you...".  I felt the Lord saying, "Who told you that was the expectation for you in this season? It wasn't me. You need to remember what I have spoken over you in this season. "

You see, when I am hit with feelings supposed to, I forget that I have spoken to by the Spirit. 

While the panel was going, I asked the Lord to help me resolve this in my head and deal with where this comes from and the word He illuminated for me was insecurity. 

By definition, insecurity means uncertainty or anxiety about oneself.  I would add uncertainty about where God has you and why.  

We can be real sure until we forget, right?  

While being vulnerable with a new friend last night, I shared that I think the beauty of the uncertainty comes when we place ourselves in a posture of asking the Lord what He wants through us and for us in every season or arena. 

Whether we are in the laundry room or the board room, the position of our heart should be the same.  

It's remembering the old hymn, "Take my life and let it be, consecrated Lord to thee".  

I want that to be my posture. However, I probably need to add a line in that stanza. 

"Take my life and let it be, consecrated Lord to thee. Take my life and let it be and Lord help me manage the expectations I think people have of me." 

Maybe you chose the season you're in and maybe you didn't.

Maybe, it's not about the season at all but it's about surrendering all. 

Yes, of that, I am certain. 

Holy Hashbrowns

 I was single parenting this weekend so on Friday, I decided to grab a friend and haul down with my tiny humans to IKEA.  At the time, I thought it was a good idea. It was touch and go but we made it.

My kids work up early and had an early breakfast so on the way, we stopped at McDonald's for coffees.

I decided to get my kids some hashbrowns to hold them over until lunch. Before you judge me... actually, just don't. :)

I gave Emily her hashbrown right away in the paper sleeve because she knows how to take small bites and wait until it's cooled off a little bit. She can handle it.

I broke a piece off of Ezra's, blew on it and handed it to him. He looked at what she had and back at what I was offering and screamed, "no!" and smacked it out of my hand. I told him that I wasn't picking it up and that now he gets a smaller piece.

I immediately told my friend that I feel like that is a picture of how I am with God. He wants to give me something and deliver it in a way that I can handle and when it doesn't look like the person next to me, I want to smack it out of His hand.

She replied, "And when we do that, we experience less than what we would have had in the first place".

That'll preach.

I could say so much about this but I think I'll just leave you with the questions that I haven't been able to shake.

What is God handing you that you are trying to smack out of Hand maybe because it doesn't look like what someone else has or it's not how you wanted it? 

What are you missing out on because of your expectations?

Don't know?

Ask Him.

Now and Then

"I've been there", I said as I was talking to a young person who was feeling the desire to hurt themselves.

Fighting back tears, I shared, "I was 13 and I remember being the bathroom with a razor in my hand, looking at my arm and wondering if cutting myself would make the pain go away".

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Recently, the Lord brought me into this moment and I was overwhelmed with emotion at the weight of it all and the weight of the way Jesus rescued me.  This young friend of mine had been looking at Psalm 139 and how we are fearfully and wonderfully made but my friend didn't feel that way.  My friend didn't know that in Psalm 139, David also writes that all of our days are ordained or planned for a purpose.

When I shared the moment of my own breaking point, it was like the last 20 years of my life rolled in my mind of a highlight reel of God's blessing. I would have never met one of my best friends, Alicia. I would have never gone to Johnson, I would have never planned one Sunday, retreat or camp.

 I would have never fallen in love with Sully and I would have never held my miracle babies. All of my amazingly ordained days would have been stolen from me.

"The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy but I have come that you may have LIFE and have it abundantly." - John 10:10

"Just hold on, it's worth it.", I said.

The now my friend is living in is dark and hard and not at all what would you hope for someone you love. But praise God for the then.

The Israelites were facing the Red Sea and front of them and Pharaoh's army behind them but then God split the sea.  The three Hebrew boys were thrown into the fire but then there was a fourth. There was a woman that was sick for years but then, with a touch, she was healed. There was a Savior who was dead in a grave but then, He rose.

I was 13, living in so much disobedience and darkness but then God saved me. I felt broken, lonely and forgotten while we waited for children but then God changed my faith. I was depressed, anxious and hopeless and then God healed me.

You see, God is in the business of taking our dark now and turn it into something amazing because then.

And after God stops the storm in your life...and He will, after God moves on your behalf, after the then, your dark now will become light.

 I was blind but now I see.
 I was lost but now I am found.
 I was dead and now I am alive.

Part 3: Sharpening

If you know me, you know that I...."have a lot of words".

I love to talk and I love to write.  If you have joined me on this blog journey for any length of time, you know that I have a desire to write more but I just don't have the inspiration all the time.  I have a dream of being published in print one day. Until that happens though, I've got this blog and a Young Authors award from St. Lucie County Schools that I racked up in 4th grade to show for it. 

This week, I have been unpacking what God did in my heart through the IF:Gathering. 

(You can check out Part 1 and Part 2 here)

It was Friday night and the fiesty Australian woman was on the stage. She will cut you but in a good way, with scripture. 

Speaking about amazing things that God's people did, she said, "If you want to accomplish a dream God gave you, you're going to need God to do it."  

You know those montages in movies, like when people are dying, and their whole life plays out before their eyes?  That is what that moment was like. 

God connected what He was teaching me about together putting(part 1) His words and staying(part 2) in the season He has me with a dream He placed on my heart. 

Could it be, that the reason my well of spiritual words flows infrequently is that I am not sinking in and sitting in uncomfortable places long enough to together put what God has for me? 

The world does not need one more opinion, it needs hope. Hope is born out of struggle and maybe just maybe God needs me to stay in seasons where I struggle to give testimony to the hope He gives.

But that's messy and sometimes it hurts. 

It was Saturday night and I was home coloring with Emily. We usually use crayons but this time we pulled out the color pencils. 

She handed me the pink one and I began to sharpen it. The shavings fell. 

Emily looked at the shavings and looked back at me. "Mama, why is that a mess?" 

Without thinking, I replied, "Because that's what happens when we sharpen things."

Whoop, there it is. 

SHOOK. DED. Insert all the trendy phrases.  The Lord hit me. 

Pencils are sharpened by cutting and shaving and it's messy and if the pencil could feel, I bet it would be painful.  Putting God's words into action in your life and staying in what He has for you is sometimes messy but you for sure come out sharper. And, to be honest, I need the Lord to remove the parts of me that are less like Him anyway. 

As I am frantically writing down the exchange that just unfolded,  I look over at Emily and she's trying to sharpen the pink pencil again. Notice the again, we are going to get worn down more than once and will need sharpened more than one. 

She looks up at me and says, "Mama, I don't know how to sharpen this, will you help me?"

My face felt heavy and my eyes felt watery.  

It was almost like God whispered, "Right there, that's what I want from you. Seek what I am doing, put it together in your heart, stay in it and ask me to help."  

Friend, would you do that with me? 

Whatever messy place God is calling you to stay in, would you pray, "God, I don't know how to sharpen this season. Will you help me?"

Part 2: Staying

So here we are. Part 2.

Part 1 came quickly.  God had been rolling the ideas around for a few weeks so the telling was easy.

I don't really want to write part 2, though. Part 2 is the middle. Part 2 is the section where I admit fault and weakness.  I'd really like to just go ahead and write Part 3 because that's where God helped me together put(weird grammar, I know. Read part 1, you'll get it). 

I can't tell you word for word what the ladies said this weekend because I don't remember everything and well, I wouldn't say it as good as they did.  I'd love to grab coffee and show you the pages of notes with the phrases I jotted down but each one of them have the same word.

STAY.

Just typing the word, I am cut again. And, I know. You're probably wondering what is going on in my life that is allowing this word to cut me and change me but maybe this time, maybe for this next few minutes, you open your heart to the idea that this word could be for you too. So just pause, take a breath and let the word simmer. 

STAY.

It could be relationships, jobs, ministries or communities you are in and they are just messy right now. Preferably, you would tap out and be on your merry way. Let's be real and admit that there are some seasons where God might be asking you to stay and you really just don't want to.  But you don't understand, it hurts. I know. I do.  And honestly, just so we're clear. Sometimes you should go. But what if we just asked God first?  That's what Jesus did right? In the garden, remember?  The cross was going to hurt. His heart was going to break, His friends were about to let Him down and He asked God if there was any.other.way. (Matthew 26:39) and then He stayed. Knowing pain was coming, He stayed. You may be in a toxic place and you may need to leave. Your season might be done but can we just agree to ask God first?

So, we get to these seasons where it just seems like it would be easier to give up. Oswald Chambers says we get to these places where, "We'd prefer to choose the scenery of our sacrifice".  RUDE. 

This weekend, we were reminded of people who, through strength of the Spirit, did hard and seemingly foolish things and God was glorified. (1Peter 4:11)

But like, what if?

What if Noah had grown tired of building a boat in a bone dry desert?
What if Moses had just dropped his arms because I imagine that got really exhausting?
What if Esther would have fled at the idea of Hebrew annhilation?
What if Paul would have closed up shop after the first beating?

God built amazing things through people that stayed.

God gave amazing grace through Jesus, who stayed.  

"If you are the Son of God, save yourself and come down off that cross". They shouted at him. (Matt. 27:40).

Through the staying and the breaking on the cross, God built something amazing.

He built redemption.

He built a way to take us from garden fallen to grace forgiven. From weary slaves to the holy saved. From wanderers to worshippers. From entering to Promise Land to holding His Promised Hand.  

Remember the puzzle from part 1? If you tap out or give up until God is done building in your season, you might never get the pieces(or truth) you need to together put what God is doing in your life.

It's worth it. Scripture promises this in Romans 8:18. Something beautiful is coming. His glory is coming.

STAY.

Part 1: Understanding.

Recently, my friend Maggie brought to my attention a scripture that she had come across that left her unsettled. She's a smart girl and deeply loves the Lord so I was intrigued to hear what stumped her.

It's the parable of the sower. If you don't know it, it's a story Jesus tells about the condition of our hearts in relation to His message. But in Matthew 13:19, Jesus says, "Whoever hears about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart." 

Upon hearing the verse, I became unsettled as well.  Wait, so the enemy can do that? What?!

I began to do a little digging.  Time to dust off that Bible degree a bit, right? The New Testament was written in Greek so to get the full nuance, you have to look at the scripture in the original language.

The operative word in that text is "understand".  You see the Greek word there is syniemi. It's a pairing of two words, syn meaning together and heimi meaning to put.  So understanding is literally together putting. The word picture that the people smarter than me explain, is that of putting a puzzle together. The idea is that understanding means to put the words of God together and see how they fit with the rest of what God is doing in your life.

We've all done puzzles before right? You dump all the pieces out on the table before you start and individually, they are easily scattered but once they are placed and connected to the rest of the picture, they are locked in.  Ya know, and it seems that the more complicated the puzzle, the more pieces(or truth) you will need to complete it. But there the pieces sit out and exposed on the table until we put them together and anyone, the toddler, the dog, the well-meaning friend or the enemy can come and just pick them off piece by piece.

So can we agree that the truth that can be snatched is the truth we don't lock in?

This weekend while streaming the IF: Gathering,  it was evident to me that I needed to do some understanding. I needed to lock a few things into place. You know what else you do when you are putting a puzzle together?

Pay attention to every detail.

I texted my boss this afternoon and told him that I would like to be exempt from all conferences in the future. Not really but when you are leaning in at a conference and examining every part, you see things you don't notice when you aren't focused.  We're filled up at conferences because we have a posture of leaning in and examining. Better yet, can we say that we have a posture of understanding or together putting the truths of God?

But can I just get real, real with y'all? 

I did not need to be leaning in at the IF: Gathering. I did not need to be examining these last two days. I'd like to tell you it's because I am super holy and have no understanding or together putting  to do but that is not the case.

God shouted at me. Not really, but He sure was blunt.

Shoot. Now I am accountable for what I know. Dang, that's annoying sometimes. Can I say that?

I mean, I just did this. A few weeks ago, God spoke and I had to confess some things and it's just annoying, this human condition.

So here I am hearing God and needing to confess some things because if I don't lock this in, I run the risk of needing it sown in my heart again.

Quite frankly, it wouldn't be the first time I have had to learn the same lesson twice.

But it would really be great if I could get this one on the first try. 

Cup of Happy.

We're friends right?

So you believe me when I say that I write as I feel led.  Just this morning, I was getting ready and thought, I really wish I could write more often.  But the truth is, the world doesn't really need one more opinion.  So for whatever the reason, I write when prompting from the Holy Spirit comes. When it comes on, it's super obvious and impossible to ignore.

It's usually just lessons for me, that you watch while I learn them.

Every once in a while though, God gives me something that might actually be for you, dear friend.

Five minutes ago, I got one.

I have these two friends, Becky and Amy. Just typing their names, my heart pricks because I miss them so much. They're sisters and before I left WellSpring, they gave me a mug. It's my favorite mug. One, because I love coffee and two because it is from them.

Just now as I was pouring the precious caffeine into the cup, I thought about my friends. I thought to myself, That is the special thing about gifts, every time you use them, you remember the person who gave them and feel joy. 

If you didn't catch the spiritual meaning of my seemingly passing thought, then let me spell it out for you. 

It's no secret that I have a deep conviction and call to help people figure out what their redeemed purpose is or what good work they were created in God's image to do. I've taught kids, students and adults on this topic and I think it's even the answer to why we exist in the first place.

You were created with a unique gift and personal passion to use for something bigger than yourself. In the church circle, we call these spiritual gifts. There are tests and studies you can do but finding them is a sermon for another time.  If you have time, check out Romans 12 and Ephesians 2 for some Bible back up. 

Can we take a peek at Ephesians 2:10 though, "For we are God's handiwork(and by the way, that's everyone from the unborn child to the criminal on death row) created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." You have a purpose that was designed for you before you took your first breath. 

Yesterday, I posted on Insta about the joy I feel when I am leading kids in worship. Sunday was a hard day and a time or two, I fought back tears but when I got up to lead the kids and sang, I remembered Jesus. I felt joy.  There is no doubt that connecting people to Jesus is my gift and my calling but sometimes, things get foggy.  

However, That is the special thing about gifts, every time you use them, you remember the person who gave them and feel joy. 

When you are using the gifts you were given, you remember the One who gave them and it really is like you're drinking a cup of happy. 

Forgetting and Remembering.

I've been here before.

I am waking up in a spiritual groundhog day type scenario because I have forgotten.

You see there is a lesson, or a practice rather, that I have been taught more than once and yet I have forgotten.

Like the Israelites did with 12 stones, I too, have set reminders in my path to remember and yet I have forgotten. The children God gave me, their middle names were given to remind me of God's faithfulness in my life.

Yet, once again, I have forgotten.

Our family is in a season of seeking and waiting and I wish I could write that I am cool and it's NBD.

I may be impatient but I'm not a liar. :)

I've started three paragraphs so far of what to say next and have deleted each one because quite frankly, I am bummed that I haven't mastered a skill just yet. I go back and forth on who this blog is really for? Is it you the reader or really just me trying to learn my own lessons?

This week, I have found myself anxious, foggy and scattered.

Remember before cable? You remember the snowy channels in between networks?  That's what I feel when I can't see the clear picture of what God has in store.

In our house, we watch a little Disney. Okay, full disclosure, we watch A LOT of Disney.  This afternoon during one of our "let's sing all the Disney songs we know" episodes, one scene from Aladdin kept replaying in my mind.

You know it. It's the one where Aladdin is pretending to be Prince Ali and wants to get Jasmine to join him on an adventure on the magic carpet.  She asks if it's safe. He holds out his hand and says, "Do you trust me?" It catches Jasmine's attention because it's not the first time she's heard THOSE words from HIS voice.

She asks "Prince Ali" to repeat himself and he says it again and this time she's sure because she remembers that when she heard it before, she was safe.   

Just today, I told someone that when I am not in control of what is going on, I don't feel safe. 

This afternoon it was like the Prince of Peace was inviting me on an adventure and once again asking, "Do you trust me?"

Then I remembered.

I remembered that He has always been present.
I remembered that closed doors and unmet expectations were not silence but grace.
I remembered that every time He asks me to trust Him, He gives me a reason to believe Him for the next one. 

I remembered to just sit, remain and abide.

In John 15, Jesus tells us that He is the vine and we are the branches. We're reminded we can do nothing without him so we're told to sit, remain and abide. But have you ever caught verse 4? Jesus says that every branch that bears fruit will be pruned. That sounds painful and uncomfortable and if we're honest it is, right?

You know what pruning does to plants though? It allows them to grow. 

So here I am, feeling the pruning again because Jesus knows I need to grow.

<3

What Is It?

This last year of my life has felt so different.  You see, in my past God has used very clear, grand gestures or occurrences to speak to me. Maybe it's because I’d be blind or deaf to it otherwise. Yeah, I am pretty sure that’s why. 

My history with God has played out a certain way. It started when I was in my time of wandering. In the depths of my disobedience, God spoke to me through the clearest dream, I’d ever had.  When God called me into ministry- it was the first time I felt that Jeremiah fire. I didn’t even know what kind of ministry, just that if I did not get out of my seat at CIY for that call, I would burst.  I had that same fire feeling when the Lord told me to go into Children’s Ministry. Then after our season of waiting for kids, God moved heaven and earth to align for Emily to come into our lives. The details of that story are, to this day, the most ordained thing I have ever walked through.  The surprise of Ezra and then the way the Lord called us here to Savannah, all of it so clearly the hand of the Creator.

But y’all in the last year that has paused and I have missed it dearly.  Up until now, I haven’t been able to put my finger on it. You see, I haven’t felt that God was distant or not moving on my behalf. 

No, that’s not it. 

I haven’t felt that obvious and holy burn and my ability to voice what God is doing in my heart has felt locked up, like all my words are gone. At times I have even felt confused and questioning, “Am I still hearing?” 

It’s just different. I feel like I am in a season of Manna. I don’t necessarily mean provision even though the Lord is doing that each day, of course. No, I mean the literal meaning of manna, which is, “what is it?”. 

What is it that the Lord is asking of me?

What is it that I need to learn?

What is it that the Lord wants to do through me?

What is it, the reason He so clearly called my family here?

Please don’t read this as a negative because I am not sure it is. Sure, I love the simplicity of obeying when things are obvious. I loved the way that relationship worked. God would speak and I would obey.  It’s harder for me to be disobedient in the obvious. 

I am not a resolution person and I don’t usually pick a word for the year. No reason really but I just don’t. This year though, I felt like I needed to.  It was January and I hadn’t thought about it at all. I have friends that search and pray for days for their word.  That is not how mine came. I opened up my Bible app and the verse of the day was, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all of your heart”.

There it was, my word.  Seek.   I thought then that the word was given so that I would seek His hand in my marriage, seek His hand in my parenting, my ministry and in the unknowns or harder places of my life. But I realize today that, the word and the verse were given but not really for those reasons. I thought the goal was just to see the hand of God in each part of my life but here as I sit and type in a parking lot, it’s more than that.  It's not just evidence of His work. No, it's clear to me that it's HIM that I need to seek without agenda. 

I don’t believe this season will be one of burning bushes or pillars by day and night.  No, this season won’t be the Jeremiah 20:9 season where it feels like obvious fire I can't ignore. No, this is my 9 chapters later Jeremiah.  This is my 29:13 seeking and finding with all of my heart season. 

Today, I was in Downtown Savannah and there was a parade happening in honor of Dr. King.  I don’t know my way around this new place super well and I was trying to get home and I kept getting blocked by one -way streets and baracades because of a parade. I didn’t mind though because I was listening to Annie's Remember God book so I wasn’t in a hurry. I just drove around the squares and one ways just searching for the road that would take me to where I needed to go.  At each intersection, I paused and looked to right and then to the left to see if that’s where things were moving.  The parade was in full swing and celebration could easily be heard but it grew quieter as I moved further away.  There were fewer cars and pedestrians and everyone going this way was doing the same thing, searching for the way home. 

Then the flow of traffic stopped. I looked ahead to see that police were getting ready to open the street, open the road. But before they did, a street sweeper came through to clear the road of what had just transpired. It hit me metaphorically, almost instantly.  

Sometimes we seek God so He can "sweep" some things out.  He could tell us but maybe sometimes, He wants us to hunt because it’s in the hunting or the seeking that we find Him. 

This season is about digging in, doubling down and doing the work to see literally, what it is that God would have me do in this season of my life.

This is the season where I have to pray more and try to control less.
This is the season where I listen more and hopefully, say less.
This is the season where I Isaiah 30:21. "Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, "This is the way; walk in it". 

So here I am, seeking and trusting that I will find God in new ways with a whole heart. 

When God Breaks Your Heart.

A few days ago I posted an entry about an exchange I had with Emily. You can read the full post here.

I didn't give her what she wanted so with an angry voice she quipped, "You're not a good Mommy".

The Lord is still revealing things to me through that story.

Yesterday, I realized I am just like her.

It's National Adoption Month and every November I think through our story.

When we were going through our adoption journey, it was a long season of waiting and heartbreak.

There were so many portal messages from the agency about our profile being shown and yet no one chose us.  Then there was the failed placement. I remember, just like my daughter, telling God that I didn't think He was being a good Father because why you would withhold something good from someone you love?

I know why now.

Timing. 

As I was reading Oswald Chambers', "My Utmost For His Highest" this morning, I was pricked by the last sentence of his entry. He writes, "If through a broken heart God can bring His purposes to pass in the world, then thank Him for breaking your heart."

Through our adoption journery God took us through some places where our hearts broke but I am ever so thankful because His purpose was Emily and Ezra. 

He is truly is good.   

Running and Hiding.

"You're not a good Mommy!",  she shouted from the dining room table last night.

You see, I was making her eat what I prepared and that wasn't she wanted so she was going to let me know.

I looked at her with stern eyes but a quiet voice I said, "Emily, that breaks my heart to hear you say that".

We've been reading her toddler Bible and when we read about The Fall, I always tell her that Adam and Eve broke God's heart. I want her to lean into the relationship with our Father and not obedience only put forth for fear of punishment.  I want her to know God loves and wants best for her and when we disobey, it makes Him sad.

What happened next caught me off guard. She got up, ran from the table, hid under an old record cabinet and cried.

Who told her to run from me? Who told her she needed to hide? Who told her to use cutting words with a piece of my life that I am always bringing to the feet of Jesus?

You and I both know exactly who.

It's the one who saw that Eve had a desire for the tree and her attraction to the thought of feeling powerful and coaxed her into disobedience.

It's the one who told her and Adam and Eve to hide from God out of fear. God had never harmed them but yet, for some reason, they were afraid. Someone told them to be.

In a matter of seconds, as this wave of the spirituality of the moment passed,  I approached Emily and told her to come out of hiding.  I picked her up and she collapsed into me, sobbing.  She said she was sorry and she didn't mean it. I told her that I love her and she never needs to hide. Nothing she says or does can make me stop loving her.   We hugged for several minutes and when she was calm I said, "I need you to go eat what I have made for you."  We hugged some more and then she ate her dinner.

Joke's on the enemy because, through my reaction to the exchange he meant to harm me with, I turned the tables. The Holy Spirit allowed me to take a flaming arrow lodged to discourage me and turn it into a holy moment to show my child what grace feels like. I was being a good Mommy. I don't get this parenting thing right all the time but this one made me kinda proud. I was proud because I believe, at that moment, I parented the way God parents us.

He sought Adam and Eve out, He seeks us out and it isn't because He doesn't know where we are. It's because He wants us to know we've been sought after. 

He doesn't condemn when our heart is still in pieces. He picks us up and we feel His love first. Kindness leads to repentance.

Then, when the tears are wiped away and our spirit is a peace, He guides us to go and live in the way He has prepared for us.

The liar whispered those hateful words that my daughter spoke and overwhelmed her with shame when she said them.  We have all been there in our own way, haven't we? We're enticed by choices outside of God's best, we give in and then quickly realize the damage we've done. Then we hide or we build our own walls. Left undisturbed, these walls or hiding places actually become graves because we've given up on the idea that Jesus wants us to have life and have it to the full.

I don't know where you're at and maybe this lesson was just for me but there is someone who desperately loves you. He died to hold you and His arms are open. Dear friend, fall into them.

From Shattered to Shining: Our Adoption Story

This morning, Emmy and I had the pleasure of selling cookies and lemonade at an adoption yard sale for some sweet friends of ours. Since we live in a new place, many of our friends here don't know the amazingly ordained story of our Emily.  Every time, I tell the details of our adoption journey, their mouths drop open and agree that only God could write something that beautiful.

So if you haven't followed our blog for the last 4 years or you just love hearing about how Jesus works all things for good, grab a snack and I'll share my favorite story, the story of Emily.

It was this exact week, 4 years ago when my world shattered.  We had waited and waited through the adoption process, had been matched with a potential birthmother, went to appointments, met family and began our plans to finally be parents.  Four years ago this week, my dream came to a screeching halt. I wrote about it here. I was so broken. I still remember the pain.

My heart started to harden. I remember telling God that I didn't think He was being a good Father. Why was He withholding when everything is at His fingertips? That was in October.  Pay attention to that date. 

Thanksgiving was blur because I wasn't thankful at all. My Grandpa who I dearly loved was in his last days and Sully was traveling a lot playing drums. My soul felt like the gray of winter. I sat at a Christmas Eve service, crying and being so thankful that it was dark in there so no one saw me. I was hurt and I felt overlooked.

On my way to say goodbye to my Grandpa, I listened to Ann Voscamp's A Thousand Gifts. In her book, she expresses this idea of open hands to whatever God gives and to practice giving thanks even in the hardest times.  I cried as I drove and opened my hands with our journey. I finally resolved in my heart that God and eternity with Him had to be enough, even if I was never a mother. I finally felt at peace. This was in December.

We said goodbye to my Grandpa and he met Jesus face to face. I left the hospital with my sister and Sully. When we got to the car I said, "Maybe Grandpa will tell God to send us a baby?" 

You won't believe me, but I have witnesses. Two minutes later, Sully's work phone rings and he sends it to voicemail. We listen and it's a girl, expressing through tears that she would like to make an adoption plan and got our number from someone at the hospital named Kristy Branson. Two minutes!

Here's the catch, I didn't know anyone named Kristy Branson and I didn't know anyone that worked in that part of the hospital. Naturally, I went to Facebook and looked up Kristy Branson. We'd never met. I connected with her and she was surprised.  You see, it was now December and she met that girl at the hospital in October. Guess when?  Right after I wrote the post about our failed adoption. We lived in a small town so a friend of a friend shared it. She read it and then picked up a PRN shift in the ER. For the non-nurses, that kinda means like "as-needed".  Kristy got called into a room that wasn't her patient and as soon as she walks in, the girl says, "I would like to make an adoption plan, do you know anyone?"

Are you following this?! In October, my world is crushed and I write about it. A friend shares it and this Kristy woman sees it. She is touched by it. Goes into work and then gets called randomly into a room where someone asks her if she knows anyone wanting to adopt. CRAY.  Kristy didn't have our number but she knew the place where Sully worked, so she gave the girl that number.

She didn't call....until December. Right after I say, "Maybe Grandpa will tell God to give us a baby?".

Divine, y'all.

I shared with my sister what was going on and she said, "Wow, if that works out, thats going to be an incredible story."

It would be an amazing story even if the story ended there. But it didn't.

March rolled around and it was time for Emily to make her entrance.  We get the call and head to the hospital. Let me just lay out what we were met with once we got there.

-The doctor who delivered Emily? An adoptive mother.
-The nurse that helped our birthmom through the delivery? She was adopted.
-The nurse that took care of Emily? Emily Ann. No E. The SAME NAME we picked out months before she was born.
-Emily was born on my Dad's birthday, once again connecting her to my Grandpa.

I could not have written a better story.

I am so thankful that the Lord closed one door so that I could walk through the journey of bringing Emily home. I will never doubt she was meant for us and I will never doubt God's hand in all of it.

As long as I live and as long as people will listen, I will tell the story, my favorite story, of what God has done.

My heart was shattered to make way for Him to shine and I am so thankful.

Mini Me vs. Mini He

I've always loved to write.  A Young Authors award in 4th grade may be my highest writing accolade but I'll take it. 

Published writers are always encouraging aspiring writers to spend large amounts of time to bringing words to life.  I wish I could do that.  

I write when prompted by the beauty or tragedy of a moment.. 

I write when given inspiration by the Spirit. 

The timing isn't always convenient. 

So in my phone, lives voice memos and notes of inspiration because you can't blog while you're driving. #safetyfirst #handsfreegeorgia

I felt a prompting this morning, a wave of inspiration came and it looked like this. 

If you've follow my social media, you have been inundated with pictures and videos of my silly little Emily.  I even made a profile for her videos on Insta (@emily_ann_says) so I could catalog it all in one place.  I have received so many messages about her charisma and spice. 

One message in particular came from another adoptive momma. Knowing she would understand I began to share with her about adoption. I told her that I over share and don't care because I am so amazed by her. She doesn't have my DNA but man, she holds my heart. 

I am surprised at this little entertainer she is becoming but I am not sure why. 

If you know me, you know I am a nut that doesn't meet a stranger and I have a flare for the dramatic. I LOVE to make people laugh.  

That is Emily, hands down. 

Yet, I find myself wondering in amazement about how she could be so funny and where she gets it from?  Was her spice knit together at the same time as the color of her eyes or is she a reflection of me, the person God graciously chose to raise her? 

As I drove, I thought a lot about her birth mom. I don't share much about Emily's family of origin because it's her story to tell but I always wonder what she was like as little girl. 

What parts of who Emily is reflect the home she is living in or the woman gave her life?

I questioned the same for myself. 

At certain times in my life, I find myself reflecting the one who gave me life and then other times I find myself reflecting the one who seems to rule this "home" we're living in temporarily. 

I pray for more times when my heavenly Father looks down and says, "Yes, that love in her heart for.....she got that from me". But if I am honest there are times when I act in such a way that I am not reflecting the one who gave me life. 

You see, it really is nature vs. nurture.  We're all born a little broken and a little prone to wonder, Lord I feel it.  I didn't get to chose that. My nature will constantly pull me in a direction that says, "God doesn't know best."

But I do get to choose what I nurture and who I emulate.  

I choose my spirit and I choose Jesus. This is what I hope Emily gets from me. 

Which do you choose?

While I would LOVE for Emily to be my mini me, I'd being doing the job wrong if she's not a mini He.  

Maybe I am giving her humor and personality but as the words of the hymn I sang to her last night  go, 

Give me Jesus, Give me Jesus.

You can have all this world.

Just give me Jesus. 

Back To Hell

I've had some words lately...Okay, who am I kidding, I have always had words. But lately, I have felt the need to put them out there even if its unpopular or raw.  I've shared about mom guilt, active shooters and mantras I disagree with.

This Ford/Kavanaugh story is no different. People, I really tried. I wanted to stay out of it, if only for self-preservation. The public discourse is heartbreaking. I've heard it said that every time new allegations arise of a public figure, in a way it revictimizes those who have been abused or assaulted.  In a way, it can take the victim back to the moment they felt helpless or objectified.

I wasn't there. I don't know who is telling the truth. I don't know their story but I know my story.

What "they" say is true. For those of us who have walked through things that you wouldn't wish for your children, will all agree. For many, this situation is bringing up past hurts or highlighting scars that haven't been thought about in awhile.  

If we were sitting down for coffee, maybe I could share all the details. But I can't write them and I don't want to. So instead of words like abused, assaulted, taken advantage of or objectified, I am going to use the word hurt. That word represents situations ranging from degrading, demeaning words to awful actions.

I was "hurt" in Elementary School by a peer. 
I was "hurt"in Middle School by someone older than me.  
I was "hurt" in High School by someone I trusted.
I was "hurt" in College by a coworker. *I actually told a female manager and she blew me off. Let's do better and expect better, ladies. 

For the last 15 years, I have not thought about these things daily. But lately, I can't shake them because, social media.  Recently while getting ready, I was thinking through the ways that I have been "hurt". That rabbit trail led me to the dark spots I have been in even by my own choices. I found myself appalled by it all, ranging from sad to every shade of mad.  If you knew me than, you would have never thought, I'd be a pastor. 

But then I was reminded of the words I heard from a fiery southern woman this weekend as she spoke at her son's funeral. Speaking about lies or things that are meant to harm us she said, "We need to pray and send that right back to Hell, where it came from!" 

You see, this whole highlight of abuse in the news was taking me back to the times of hell in my own life. The times I felt alone and separated from God. So at the advice of the bold, grieving daughter of Christ, I claimed that I was made new and sent those memories straight back to hell. 

My "hurt" was a strategy that Satan tried to used to harm me. But y'all, my Creator is a Master Restorer. This week, I taught about Revelation 21, you know the amazing part when God makes everything new and "everything sad comes untrue"(Sally Lloyd Jones).

But did you know friend, that our hearts can be made new right now.  I was so shocked when I was recalling the past because when I look back, it doesn't even feel like my life.  Shoutout to Jesus and EMDR Therapy.  

2 Corinthians 5:17 makes a beautiful promise. "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."

So there's my new mantra y'all.  When I am reminded of the harmful choices of others or the mistakes of my own, I will send the enemy scurrying when I claim, "Behold, the new has come".

Girl, Wash Their Feet.

There is a super popular book out right now, making the rounds through Christian circles.

From what I can tell, it's giving a voice to many who have seen themselves as less than and believed lies about themselves.

From what I can tell, the author would be a blast to hang out with and I bet we'd have a good laugh.

But, from what I can tell, the book falls short of what really helps someone feel whole and see themselves in light of how the Creator sees them.

But, it's not just this book.

The enemy has taken this idea of rest in Christ and hijacked it, labeling it "self-care".

Self-care should be things like eating well, sleeping well, making time for friendships, exercising and laughter. These are good things. This is being a steward of the life God gave you and being your healthiest to bring the most glory to Him. This sisters, is good and holy.

But that isn't what "self-care" has become. It has started to rear it's head with this manta, "Do what is best for you.''  Some authors/bloggers/personalities have actually said, "You should be the first of your priorities" or "You are meant to be the hero of your own story"

Sisters,  please tell me we know better than that.

I would have thought by now, that the enemy would have gotten some new material. Yet we find him using the same lie he told Eve in the garden. It's that whispering that God doesn't know what is best for you. You need to seize and take hold of what you want. 

I am calling a foul on all of it because it is a lie.

If you are the first of your priorities, your life will be incredibly empty. Who wants to be friends with someone who always puts themselves first?  We have met those people. We see them on TV.  Wall Street, Men who take advantage and women who backstab. But hey, they were just making themselves the first priority.

If you are the hero of your own story,  you're selling yourself short. 
The Creator who hung the stars, split seas and brought dead to life wants to be your hero and you are taking the bet on you?  Last time I checked, I am a hot mess that does my best to love my tribe hard and serve people but I still fall short. EVERY. TIME.  If I am holdin' out for a hero, it ain't gonna be me.

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Don't worry, I am about to get off my soapbox.  But if you're still with me, I just want to tell you that I have been at the end of my rope. I have cried in the fetal position at night, crying and speaking the name of Jesus because my world felt so dark.

Washing my face did not help.

Jesus saved me. His words told me to press into Him and His heart. I committed scripture to memory, that was my "vision board", I sought out spiritual mentors to lift me up and I served people. I got up and went to work and I taught kids about a loving Father who is with them even when they are scared, sad, lonely and afraid.

Jesus was carrying the weight of the world on His shoulders and yet He knelt to wash feet.

If you are struggling, I promise you as counterintuitive as it seems.....Girl, wash their feet. 

Jesus truly wants more for you than you. His heart is for your eternity, not your entertainment. If we are the captains of our own ships, we will crash every time. Let Him be you anchor in times where you feel less than, overlooked and undervalued.  He sees you, He loves you and He wants you forever. Cue Lauren Daigle's new album, "Look Up Child"

You know, He had a vision board too and He willingly was hung on it because, you... in eternity...with Him. That's the vision.

I Want To Be All The Things

I want to be a devoted follower of Jesus.

I want to be a servant-hearted wife.

I want to be an intentional mother.

I want to be an impactful pastor.

I want to be healthy in my mind and body.

I want to have thriving friendships.

I want to be all the things.


All of the above are good. All of the above are ordained. All of the above are callings and all of the above have an eternal impact.

But if I am strong in one area for a time, something else seems to suffer.  It's like they are all constantly in conflict with one another.

I think it's a season, but maybe not.  Sure, I have toddlers. But while their physical needs of potty-training and  The boo-boos take time, it's nothing in comparison to the issues of the teenage years. So the season will look different but the emotional attention will only increase.

I ask God weekly, to show me which one of the things I should stop or give less time.

Update: silence. Well, that's not entirely true. It's not been complete silence. If anything, it's, keep going. 

And so I carry on with an unbalanced amount for these each week. Some weeks I am the most devoted follower of Jesus and some weeks I am the most intentional mother. However, those are the weeks, I don't take care of myself or feel like I am not going above and beyond for the church. Then there are weeks where I am a devoted wife/homemaker and an "all-in" pastor but my kids just see my working. Housework and ministry "work" looks the same to them.  I had a moment this week where someone said, "you and my wife should hang out". To which I replied, I'd like that but I don't have time for friends".  Not okay. Sure, I could make time but then its time away from Sully, or kids, or self-care or .......

Usually, with this blog, I share some devotional truth that the Holy Spirit has given to me but I don't have one this time. Actually, I am hoping you do.

If you feel pulled in 7 eternity-impacting directions, how do you manage it?

Help a girl out.

Holding A Miracle.

Two years ago today, I experienced one of my Top 3 favorite moments of my life. I experienced a day I never thought would be part of my story.   At about this time, I was sitting at Williamson Medical with my favorite people waiting for Ezra to arrive.

If we're new friends, you might not know.

You might not know that we didn't think we could have kids.  You might not know about our failed adoption and how awful that was. I will always remember the burn my eyes felt from the tears.

You might not know about the amazing story of when we found out about our birth mom.

You might not even know the beautiful picture God painted at Emily's birth.

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So there I was at the hospital, wanting to come out as unscathed as possible. My goal was simple, not die.  I have always been terrified of birth and actually never mourned the idea of no delivery when we were waiting for children.

God did so much more than allow me to "not die".

It was about 7pm, everything was prepped and the worship music was going. "Unstoppable God" was playing when my boy entered the world.  My favorite line of that song is, "impossible things in your name will still be done".

On paper, it was impossible for me to be in the place I was that evening.   They handed my son to me and I was overwhelmed.  I held him and all I could utter was, "Thank you Jesus,  I praise you, Jesus".

 I have never felt so close to God in my entire life.  Through my body and into my hands I experienced creation.  Here was this tiny soul, entrusted to me that didn't exist before.  Ezra had been handcrafted and brought here by the power of God and I was holding that in my hands. 

The nature of our Creator was in my hands. 

                                     

I can't believe this baby miracle is two years old today. I feel like someone has hit the fast-forward button on my life.

Nowadays there is much less time holding our miracle and much more time spent chasing, wrestling and FEEDING (but for real, how can he eat so much?) our miracle.

When I was waiting with empty arms, I was so mad at God.

But, oh my word, I would have missed out on the incredible beauty of the moments I experienced when both of my miracles came into the world.

So happy birthday to my boy that it is a living reminder that God is still in the business of doing the amazing. God is still in the business of creating and God is still in the business of doing far more than we can ask or imagine.

In the words of my girl AV,

eucharisteo

More Than A Party

Last weekend we celebrated my sweet boy turning two. My boy loves balls so naturally, we had to go big with that. 

Part of me wishes I had a taken more photos with the exact right lighting and composition but toddlers are fast and I wanted to be in the moment.

What a sweet moment it was.  I had planned for us to be outside playing for a good chunk of the time but after a short time outside, a storm popped up and drove wild children with whistles into my house.

It was packed. It was loud. And I loved it.

We were deeply rooted at WellSpring. We built our life there for close to a decade. We got engaged there, married there and brought our babies home there.  Rooted.

For the first several months here, I felt like I was Dorothy waking up from Oz and trying to find counterparts for my WellSpring family. I would see remnants of my Carrie in people or try desperately to find another Scott. I found someone I can roll my eyes with and that made me think of my Becky. I even found someone who talks exactly like Jodi Barnhill, y'all.  People, I even miss my doctors. Who does that?

But none of it is the same and if I am outright honest, which I always have been on this blog, I struggle with that.  I miss my people.  Even writing this, my eyes water and my heart flutters.

But last weekend was a turning point.

I felt rooted.  I looked around and saw all these people that have blessed my heart so much and I never would have met them. I would not have Margie, who has a heart of gold and tells like it is(P.S-She is a huge blessing to Compassion Christian Kids). I wouldn't have Maggie, who walked almost the exact same journey of waiting, adoption loss and finally bringing adopted children home, 7 DAYS after I brought Emily home. Same year.  There wouldn't be Denise (also the counterpart to Kelly G), who has been so open and loving and can see my sass and raise it. I wouldn't have Catherine and Dylan that will put on the janky Moana wig when my three-year-old asks them too.

This weekend was more than a party.

It was a reminder that we are blooming where we have been planted, we are loved and that the Church around the world is really just a group of friends in places we haven't met yet.

I miss my WellSpring people but I also love my Compassion fam.

And I guess that's one of the beauties of Heaven. I will have them both.

And Jesus.

That will truly be more than a party.

Pillow Fights to Firearms

Tonight I was having a pillow fight with my soon to be three-year-old. The sound of her laughter filled our entire home.  As I was watching the twinkle in her eye and the joy on her face, I found it hard to breathe. My mind filled with thought after thought about the most recent tragedy in our country.

What if she lost her life to an active shooter, would I remember this moment and that look on her face? Would I remember the sweet sound of her little body booming with giant laughter?

Which moments are those mommas clinging to right now? What do I not want to miss? Oh, those mommas! Their toddlers turned into teens who lives were taken.  Does your heart ever stop throbbing?

What happens to pillow fight type moments, ya know the ones as a parent that make you overwhelmed by the beauty of your child when they are cut short by firearms?

I imagine I would want to remember them all. I'd keep my eyes closed until they were closed for good if it meant I could see them more clearly.

And what about the shooter? Did no one hold his tiny fingers? Did anyone treasure him before he terrorized them? How do you go from a child that pillow fights to an adult that takes lives? 

Sure, I have thoughts on gun rights and strong feelings about mental health but neither of these makes evil go away.  I am not suggesting we throw our hands up in defeat but I want to be realistic about the solution.

You may say my thoughts and prayers are trite but I don't care, I am going to say them anyway.

 There is no denying that the scenes are pure evil. Can you have evil without good?

My only hope is that there is One that gives good light in this darkness. He promises that one day He is going to mend broken things and the light will shine in between.

I pray that my children will fall in love with that good light, Jesus, and I won't have to close my eyes to see the joy on their face or hear their laughter.

A Few Good Men

It seems that a new allegation of sexual abuse hits the media every.single.day.

I wish I could say I was shocked each time I read the story. I am not. In fact, my own journey has contained some #metoo moments and I am thankful individuals who have been objectified are saying that time is up.

Last night, we watched Kesha's emotional Grammy performance. She sang a song about overcoming past hurt. When I woke up this morning, I was reminded of my past hurts. Hurts that I am not comfortable sharing in this context but they are there.

But I was also reminded of something else.

A different group of men.

A group of men that saw past my gender into my spirit and supported me. Men who encouraged me, men who provided opportunities without solicitation and men who coached me.

There are some real bad eggs out there but there are a few good men still out there. Turns out not all men are creepers.

I am who I am because of the men.

Men like my Dad, who is the ultimate prayer warrior and encourager.

Men like Nate Bush, who led camps and then gave students like me a chance to be on worship teams and leadership groups.

Men like Patrick Snow, who saw a call on my life for Children's Ministry before I even knew what it was.

Men like Brent D'Altilio, who married my best friend at a young age but let me have a front row seat to what a good husband looks like.

Men like Chris Booth, who took time to invest in me as an intern and really taught me how to be effective in practical ministry.

Men like Andy Hudelson, who took a chance on a young college graduate without a resume full of experience. Andy never limited me because I was female.  He gave me a platform to create and preach. Yes, I said the "p" word. Andy only ever did things that would make me better. Andy walked the fine line of boss/pastor/friend in the best way.

Men like Shaun Groves, who was vulnerable enough to share in his struggles. When I walked through my own anxiety/depression journey, his openness was a huge part of my healing.

Men like Brian Seay, who took the role of elder very seriously. He advocated for me for 8 years, prayed for me and spent time walking me through what Biblical discernment looks like. So thankful.

Men like my Husband, Sully Cook, who have loved me unconditionally. This man has seen me at my worst and loves me still. This man is an excellent father who always got up in the middle of the night and never felt like parenting was only for me. This man makes me laugh often and we are truly partners. And, dang that boy can play the drums!

To the men on this list, I am forever grateful.  What may have seemed like your standard mode of operation made a huge impact on me.  In a world that seems to be full of darkness, you men have been light in my life.  Thank you.

Sure, I have a list of men who have hurt me but they have not made me. Jesus used the friends above to establish who I am today.

If you haven't found any men like that in your life, I pray that you do.

They are out there.

Oh, and when you find one....thank them for being one of the good ones.