Tag Archives: Peace

Three Things to Remember When Life Sets You Back

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So it’s been a while.

When I lasted posted on this blog, Christmas carols were still playing, lights were still hung on trees, and hope filled my heart for a fantastic start to the coming New Year.

Writing goals…

Homeschool goals…

Get-in-shape goals…

They each beckoned to me with the promise of a fresh start, a new year.

New Year’s Day came and went. So far, so good!

January 2nd, my best friend, Beth, arrived for her yearly visit from China.

January 4th, my new niece was born.

We were off to a smashing start.

And then January 5th happened. Blessing started to cough. Promise came down with a fever, Hope with a runny nose.

It’s okay, I thought. Nothing a little Elderberry and a day or two on the couch can’t cure.

Wrong.

What started as a cold for my girls, turned into colds for Mr. Wonderful and me too, and a long cycle of sickness ensued. As soon as one of us got well, someone else came down with something new.

Chest congestion…

Ear infection…

A sinus cold from you know where…

Nearly six weeks later we’re still recovering.

And those goals for my new year? Those beautiful visions of getting ahead? Of getting on track? Off getting things done?

They feel long ago and far away, forgotten. It’s hard to even remember what they were.

Wherever they are, whatever they were as I get myself, my family, my home back together, back to health and life as usual there are three things I’m trying to hold onto. Hoping that if I cling to these above all else, somehow, eventually, the pieces will come together and I will have the new year I hope for.

First of all…It’s a slip not a slide: My very wise friend and fellow writer, Cindy Bultema, once spoke about the importance between a slip and a slide. Slips are quick and easy to get over. Slides are long and drawn out. The difference between the two is almost always my attitude and the way I choose to see and react to what life brings. So January and February did not go the way I planned, hoped, or expected. So what! They don’t have to be a slide or, in other words, these past few weeks DO NOT determine the rest of my year. They can be overcome. I can move on. Quick. Easy. A slip not a slide.

Next there’s this…God’s grace can cover this too: The weeks of sickness my family has experienced is something I can’t control and sometimes recognizing what’s within my control and what isn’t, is half the battle. Rather than fighting against something I can’t control, my limited energy is much better spent doing the things I can do and trusting God with the rest. Because the truth is, His grace really is enough. For all the things that go undone, for all the ways I fall short, He provides what’s needed. Always, just what’s needed. So, yeah, we’ve missed a ton of school days. And, yeah, my writing is on life support, and yeah, these thighs, they ain’t gettin’ smaller… but we’re doing what we can, as we can, and somehow, I trust. I TRUST. It’s all gonna shake out in the wash.

And finally…None of this determines my worth: This is the big one isn’t it? The one we don’t even realize we’re doing to ourselves. The one that sneaks in like a snake and steals every spark of truth we have, every shred of joy, every fiber of peace. When set backs like this happen, when things don’t go the way I planned, it’s so easy for me to go there, to that place where I’m discouraged, where I’m convinced that I’m a failure, where all evidence shows I’m blowing it big time. And once I’m there it’s hard to get back. But the truth? This has nothing to do with me. It. Is. A Cold. A long-lasting, miserable, terrible cold. It is not a reflection of who I am and it’s not a measure of what I’m worth. When I find my identity getting mixed up with what’s going on around me, I know it’s time to start taking captive each and every thought. Inspect every one. Keep the truth: God’s got this. I am loved. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. His grace is sufficient. I am His and He is mine. Nothing can steal my peace or my joy. Pitch the lie: Ha! You haven’t blogged in a month and you call yourself a writer? How could you? What were you thinking? You are a terrible mother. What a mess you’ve made. What a failure. What a screw up.

Whether it’s at the start of a brand new year or anywhere in between, when the stuff of life sets you back, hang on tight to these three things. They may not take the sting away, but they will get you through.

Like Elderberry mixed with a day or two on the couch, may they be nourishment, comfort, and the cure for what ails you.

How Not to Get Caught in the Tradition Trap this Holiday Season

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Christmas Tree With PresentsHoliday Season? That’s right, friends! Whether we’re ready for it or not the holidays are upon us. And with the holidays…Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s… comes a mob of traditions.

Trunk-or-treating at Grandma and Grandpa’s church

Aunt Becky’s mac-n-cheese, a Thanksgiving staple

Mr. Wonderful’s Ten Days of Christmas

 Church on Christmas Eve

 Monkey bread on Christmas 

 Chip dip, Catan, and champagne as we ring in the New Year.

 The list is endless and seems only to grow with each passing year.

Each year, before the holiday crazies get going I have a little tradition of my own. Every fall one of my favorite authors, Nicholas Sparks, releases a brand new, tear-jerking novel and my tradition is this: On the day his latest story releases I drive to Barnes & Noble where I find his book waiting for me just inside the door. I browse through several copies savoring the process. I check the pages for crimps and crinkles. I sniff the dizzying new book smell. I pick the perfect one and hold it close to my chest. Next I meander over to the café and order my first Pumpkin Spice Latte of the season. Then I sit, sip, and read until my heart’s content or my hubby/kids need me at home.

Christmas LightsThis past Tuesday Nicholas, (because I like to pretend we’re on a first name basis), released his first novel in two years, See Me, and I was bound and ready for a trip to B&N. I planned it out in my mind. Tuesday is story time at our local Barnes & Noble providing the perfect chance for both my girls and me to have some fun.

But then life happened. So much life I can’t even remember what derailed our plans, but no matter, here I am on Saturday afternoon, my tradition still waiting to happen.

And to be honest, while I’m excited to read Nicholas’s new book, and let me just tell you, I always, always, love a good excuse to go to Barnes & Noble, I’m kind of not-that-into-it this year. I’m wondering if it’s time to let go of this tradition.

Maybe it’s because we don’t really have the money right now to spend on a new book I don’t really need. (Want? Heck, yes! Need? Not so much.)

Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since one of Nicholas’s books captivated my heart like his earlier novels did. (Don’t get me wrong, I love all his stories but The Longest Ride doesn’t hold a candle to my all-time favorite, The Notebook.)

And maybe it’s simply because traditions are supposed to serve me, serve us. Never the other way round.

Black FridayThis is what we need to remember as we gear up for the holidays. Traditions can be wonderful things. They bring romance to our lives by drawing us to people, places, and things that make our hearts sing. Traditions encourage us to live outside of the norm, to grab hold of life, and in many cases should be fought for even when they’re inconvenient.

But if we’re not careful, traditions, or rather, the pressure cooker we build around them, can enslave us to patterns, habits, and behaviors that no longer serve a purpose, at least not a healthy one.

Whenever we find ourselves feeling not-that-into a tradition it’s time to take stock and ask ourselves the whys and wherefores behind the tradition in question.

Is it a blessing to us or others?

Does it require time and money we don’t really have?

 What’s the worse that will happen if we decide to do something different?

 Who are we seeking to please?

Depending on the answers to these questions it may be time to let the tradition go. Giving yourself the freedom and permission to do so ushers in peace, and grace, and makes room for other blessings to grow.

I’ve shared this quote before, and I’d like to share it again. It’s so important and needed at the start of the holidays, and I hope it will help you navigate the tradition trap this year:

“Whenever Christmas (Insert: Halloween, Thanksgiving, New Years, Christmas cards, Christmas trees, Black Friday, trick-or-treating, caroling, turkey, pies, decorations, presents, shopping, etc…) begins to burden, it’s a sign that I’ve taken on something of the world and not of Christ.”

~ Ann Voskamp (Insert Mine)

May this be your rule of thumb to keep traditions from ruling you.

This holiday season may you and yours find joy in traditions that whisper His name and freedom from the noise that doesn’t.

~From the Archives

For When You Feel A Little Lost (and God won’t hand you a map)

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img_6063So a funny thing happened to me. Somewhere around Mother’s Day, I just stopped writing. 

One week away from my blog and my book crept its way into two. Two weeks spiraled to three, and three stole into four. I’d taken breaks before but never quite like this. This felt different. This was different. My words had packed and gone away. Dried up, disappeared, vanished.

Was something wrong? Was this okay? It felt so unlike me.

Writing is not just my hobby; something I do on a whim just for fun. It’s my life. My joy. My calling. Thus my confusion when my words just stopped. When the voice in my head that speaks in pages went mute. When my heart (Motivation? Inspiration? Muse?) for writing went MIA.

Again and again I asked God what was this all about. If He could shed some light? Clue me in? Help me out? I could get back to work or enjoy a long rest with peace of mind and heart.

Weeks turned to months (gasp!) but God didn’t answer. I asked and I waited and life went on. Our family’s business and home building project continued to grow a little each day. I kept on schooling my oldest two despite the onset of summer. We worked hard. We played hard. My best friend moved 1,000 miles away.

All kinds of things were happening in and around me but this only added to my confusion. Usually my writing is how I work through things. It’s how I make sense of life. So why the silence? Why did my words just up and leave when I needed them the most?

It would be nice to say a breakthrough came like a fireworks display. But that wouldn’t be the truth, at least not quite.

God did speak one late summer day while I prayed and asked once more…

Me (for something like the thousandth time): God, I feel like there’s all this stuff going on inside me and yet I can’t put words to anything anymore. They’re in me somewhere, but I can’t find them. I just can’t get the words out.

God (finally): Dearest, it’s okay. I want you to write when you find you can’t keep the words in.

Oh my sweet Jesus! He always knows just what to say. He didn’t answer all my questions but  in this little whisper of truth He gave me what I needed. Permission to wait and rest. Permission to fill up on all the things that make me burst with words.

Afternoons beside the lake

Golden haired girls with books in their hands

Teaching young minds

Reading good books

The dream of a house sitting real on a hill

The smell of hard work on his skin

The feel of her cheek against mine

Family

Friends

Fall tinged days

“Fill up on these things,” He said. “Because filling on these things is filling on Me, and the words will come…”

This morning I heard it again. That voice inside my head. At first I didn’t even notice it as it scribbled out its pages. I was going through motions, just making my bed when suddenly I realized; it’s back! (And going on so nonchalant as if it never left.)

“God? Is it time?” I asked. But the voice kept chabbering on. I could feel His proud papa smile on me as He answered, “What do you think, dearest?”

So here I am, returned to this blog, to this little space in time. To this space created  by little me to tell of His big love.

I’m not sure what the coming weeks and months and years will bring. Having just gotten my words back I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m afraid they’ll scamper off…

But outside the trees are starting to turn my favorite color of fall. Books are stacked all over my house, and dreams are all around me. 

God is all over me. I’m full of Him and His spirit and no lack of anything can change that.

His mysterious ways while not always or completely understood are, in fact, always and completely perfect.

 And writing? 

 Writing feels like home. 

The Miracle of Skin-to-Skin (and Why It’s Not Just for Babies)

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Skin to SkinA few nights ago My Promise ran the first fever of her ten month old life. It came on at bedtime and for the length of a sleepless night all she wanted and all I could do was hold her while she struggled to sleep. 

Cuddled in my arms she looked so terribly pathetic. Her eyes were weak, her skin was hot, and as she breathed she whispered the saddest whimper.

For a mom these are the moments when you’ll do anything to bring comfort to your little one. Around 3:00 am her fever spiked to its highest mark making sleep impossible for her and for me. Remembering her newborn days and how much she was comforted by skin-to-skin contact I stripped her down to her diaper and pushed back my shirt to lay her bare on my chest. Within minutes she settled down and drifted back to sleep. By morning her fever broke and the worst of her illness was over.

As I cuddled her in the dark, our bare skin touching, comforting both of us, my thoughts wandered out of our nursery and into the stable where Christ was born. 

I thought of the infant king, the Prince of Heaven, now wrapped in human flesh and I realized this miracle, this breakthrough from heaven to earth, this God with us, fleshy, and human, and born like us, was and is the ultimate skin-to-skin care the world has ever known.

Christ, who could have remained in heaven, who could have loved us from afar, chose to enter in. Chose to take on skin. Chose to live skin-to-skin among us.

In a mother to infant relationship the benefits of skin-to-skin contact in the first weeks of life are nearly endless. It comforts, it soothes, it promotes all kinds of biological goodness. It creates security, bonds of closeness, and helps and infant adapt to life outside the womb.

And when Christ came to earth this and so much more is just what He had in mind. To cradle us, weak and whimpering and helpless from sin, in His arms. To secure us. Heal us. Make us well. To help us cope and adapt to a world outside His kingdom no longer alone but with Him all around us, beside us, inside us. 

And perhaps most importantly, most amazing of all, was in Christ coming to earth, in Christ becoming human everything that existed between us was pushed back, stripped away. 

He entered in wholly and vulnerable so that nothing could keep us from Him.

As C.S. Lewis once wrote,

“The Son of God became a man to enable men to become sons of God.”

 

Dear ones, as you celebrate this Christmas Day may the miracle of Christmas comfort you, secure you, redeem you. May you find yourself in His arms, on His chest, cradled and cured by His love.

Forever changed, made well, made whole, by the touch of Savior skin. 

For When Christmas Comes Up Empty

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MangerThe stress of the week had left me empty, had drained me dry. Work challenges, family challenges, and holiday pressures had taken their toll.

Desperate for peace and joy I retreated to the nursery to rock my daughter to sleep for nap time.

With Promise sleeping soundly in my arms I opened the playlist on my phone and scanned my albums for music to bring back the spirit of Christmas. For me, this music is found yearly on Michael W. Smith’s album: Christmastime.

Somehow it never truly feels like Christmas to me until I set aside a sacred time to still, and slow, and listen. To let this music stir in me the feelings of snow and warmth. Of family and coming home. Of worship. Of Christmas.

And on this rocky Thursday morning, with tension filling every room of the house. With stress running rampant and discouragement decking the halls, I needed this balm. These tidings of great, great joy.

 

“Fragile finger sent to heal us,

Tender brow prepared for thorn

Tiny heart whose blood will save us,

Unto us is born

Unto us is born”

 

As the lyrics from Welcome to Our World fell over me and the sleeping babe in my arms, I found myself overwhelmed with how much I need Him. With how much my family, my household, this crazy, smoldering world needs Him. How we all need Him to come and fill not just the manger but all the empty, the lost, the broken.

Christmas, it brings with it so much joy and yet there is always this beautiful ache. This ache for Him to fulfill all we truly long for. 

The manger so long ago was such an unlikely place for a Savior King to fill. And yet He did. He came in the most unlikely way to the most unlikely place and even so fulfilled every need, every ache of the world. 

And this is what He continues to do. And this is what we celebrate. This is what we need at Christmas and every day of the year. For Him to come and fill the manger of our hearts, our homes, our lives.

Anything, anywhere can be a manger if we but open for Him. Make room for Him to come. If we stop being so afraid of the empty, afraid of the ache and go to Him ready and waiting and asking of Him, “Lord, please just come.”

The only time Christmas comes up empty is when we look to lesser things to fill our greatest ache. 

And the best way to remain full this holiday season is to remember the truth of Christmas. To remember the baby who filled the manger, who filled the empty, the open, the cracks in all this broken world. 

My daughter expressed it perfectly this week while listening to an instrumental version of Away in The Manger. “This song reminds me of baby Jesus,” she said. “And when I hear it all I want to do is pick him up and hold him in my arms and love him forever.”

So simple. So profound. So very full of Christmas.

Sweet friends, may your heart, your home, your life be full with Him this holiday season.

When all else leaves you empty may you remember Baby Jesus, may you hold him close to your heart, love him forever, and let your manger be filled with Him.