Friday, August 7, 2015

I have moved!

Welcome to a whole new era... self-hosted blogging. Once I work out the kinks, I am sure it will be lovely... I will keep this one open for the time being. If you miss me, come and find me at!

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

The home that God built...

We live in a house, a home that God bought for me… I wanted something that fit us. With room to grow. With space for a future. With extra room… for a potential spouse, potential kids…. With potential to be the home for the family that God was building. We are the family of God's own making.

We are a family that has survived a divorce, one that has weathered storms of contention… my two sons, a dog, and me. Out of the ashes we rose, stronger for the struggles and more certain in our identity. We live truth. Unashamed, we talk about God… we wrestle through challenges… we are unfinished, in flux, ever growing and evolving. 

Our home had empty rooms, a whole floor that is unused. The door remained closed, the future is at hand, the almost but not yet. It is wasted space. Squandered. The empty rooms of potential life bothered me. I have tried using the space, for something… because it is MINE and must be used by me. Right? Or not.  

Dissatisfied with emptiness, I decided to rent the upstairs… to a girl... because, I am surrounded by boys… even the dog is a boy. I was outnumbered, and to balance the scales and to put out the emptiness we got a girl in the attic, two actually. 

The first one stayed for six months before she got married… she was our house elf. She baked delicious things and won over the short one with fresh scones. When she left us for her husband (whatever, I know), the short one hugged her in her wedding dress and glared at the man who stole her away. 

And the emptiness returned….

Then came Girl 2.0, she was the replacement girl… by now I had determined that the attic no longer would be empty. I liked having a girl upstairs… plus I got to use the phrase “the girl in my attic” ubiquitously on Facebook and in casual conversation. Both of our girls were known to us, and loved by us… and have become ours. But this Girl 2.0 is magical… she is FAMILY and everything has changed.

This is the family that God is building, she is somehow sister to my children and the sister of my heart. I have watched her grow, even before she moved into the attic, from shaken, fragile, woundedness into the strength of a million rainbows. She used to hide in plain sight, not wanting to be seen and now she laughs uproariously and shines with Jesus sparkles. 

She has found her voice, she is out of the corner… and temporarily in my attic. I know she is on loan, I have to let her go… she is chasing Jesus and He has laid out a mighty path for her.  She is willing to wait, she is willing to go… I have seen first-hand the fruit of faithfulness working, living through her and it has sustained and revived me in wondrous ways.

We are a family, bound by the Spirit… guided by the Holy Spirit… and sharing this life with Girl 2.0 seems to have exponentially magnified that fact. We are all drowning in majesty, there is a deep spring of redeeming grace flowing around us and it is healing the deepest of wounds. Nightmares of the past are being broken off and being replaced with hope and restoration. 

In this house, in this home, this is the family that God is building. The rooms for potential are not mine to fill, it is not actually my space to use. I am just fortunate enough to have a room that is God’s to fill and is His space to use. Each day, I know more and more, that He fills every corner of this home.

This is the house that God built… in all my broken ways, He has built me walls that will always stay. The walls I built, He has torn down; in their place grace will abound. Brick by brick and stone by stone, He has tilled my heart so overgrown. The weeds of rage and bitterness had grown so fierce I could not see all the pain thriving inside of me. With every angry thought, my grief became a forgotten word.  

Numb to hear my heart’s own cry. Waves of anger swept me away. The loss of self, a loss of joy. With stumbling steps through a darkened night, I forged a path into the light. Reminded of what once was true, God’s love saves and changes you. In this home, full of love and hope, the future is bright... full of almost and not yet.

Monday, July 13, 2015

Woman of integrity...

Woman of integrity, hear me now. You are not alone. This world we live in is broken and dirty and cruel. It may have robbed you of joy, it may have raped you, and it may have beaten you down. You may have stood on the front lines of a battle waging on beyond your control. Darkness has crept in and is eating your soul. You may have given away little scraps of yourself in exchange for a glimmer of recognition.

I see you there in the shadows and I tell you… you are NOT alone. There is no wrong, no loss, and no grief so great that I have stopped seeing you. The clouds that pursue you, the rains that threaten to drown you, are not enough to separate you from me. In all of your mess, right where you are… broken and bloodied, I say to you… You are NOT alone. I see you. And you are mine.

I was with you in the darkness. I was with you in your pain. I have heard every broken sob, and caught every fallen tear. I see you through the dust, I see you through your shame. I see you hiding from me, and I tell you… do not be ashamed. My love will change the world. My touch will heal your heart. Each day may be a struggle, but do not give up the fight. On the other side is wholeness, redemption and light.

You may have said you don’t know me, that you never knew my name. With every hair counted, I have always known you were mine. Lost in the darkness. Chasing broken dreams. You pretended not to care as you turned another trick, pouring down a fifth of something to drown out every thought. You think you’ve gone too far, that this is the point of no return… one more day or nothing, it matters not at all.

From the ash and darkness, I can bring forth new life. In the empty grey oblivion of a broken shattered life, I can work a miracle and set your path aright. The cost is a sacrifice, a price already paid… it is yours for the taking, if you will just take my hand. I will not forsake you or leave you. I will not exploit you nor betray you, my word is my bond. The perfect promise of salvation, the only covenant not undone.

If you stumble, do not fear, I am there by your side. To hold you and to guide you with a perfect love and eternal plan. I will teach you new things of grace, hope and life. You will cling to your old ways until you see the way. Your heart of stone will melt, your bricks will fall away. The armor you pick up is holy, and the fight you will fight is mine.

Woman of integrity. This is who I see. Standing in the darkness… the lost daughter of a king.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Life... unboxed

There is something amazing that happens to your spirit once you get out of the box… anytime you feel the walls closing in, your spirit begins to resist. Mine occasionally screams in warning, “This will make you LESS! RUN!!”

In the post-divorce apocalypse, there was a season of complete dryness. Everything that had been truth was stripped away to below the roots. What once was, was tossed asunder. I couldn’t find Jesus on my knees so I lay flat on the ground, broken and needy and lost. My soul calling out, oh how long must I weep Oh Lord before You hear my cries?

I didn’t know. I didn’t understand it. It was so raw and messy and frankly? More than a little bit unsanitary. Yet, so vital to the process of restoration. Everything had to be razed. It all had to go. Like Holy Fire, He burned through all of me leaving nothing but my faith in Him and the tiny flicker of hope that there would be something of that looked like life remaining at the end.

My integrity had been shaken, my reputation had been shattered, and my sanity had been questioned. Prophecies of doom had been declared over me and my children, curses were flung wildly and I struggled with doubts and wrestled to find truth in it all. I knew at my core, that change was required so I moved forward, one millimeter at a time.

Stumbling in the darkness and crying out for the Light eventually the smoke cleared and I found myself on a path of restoration. It was more than just a bandage over a seeping wound. Parts of me that had died along the way were given new life. My spirit had withered and died; it had become smaller, crawling into a box with ever shrinking walls. In a relationship with impossible standards, it adapted and retreated and became less.

Now… it is free. God restores all that was lost. He rebuilt my spirit and is growing it beyond anything I could have previously conceived. I am free to step out and serve. I can commit my life to seeking God, growing deeper, wiser, foolisher (not really a word, but I like it) and living, truly living, saturated in Him. My faith is uncensored… and the freedom of THAT, my friends, is the biggest most abundantest (also not a word) gift of them all.

Today, when I find those walls of conformity sneaking into my world… the box of becoming less, my spirit does NOT retreat. I will NOT be silenced. I will NOT be less than. I WILL NOT become smaller. My God does NOT call me to a small life. He calls me to a life of abundance. He calls ME to be more than my past. HE CALLS ME. ME. Broken, restored, colorful, bejeweled, radiant and growing. HE CALLS ME.

Where I am inadequate, He equips me. Where I am confused, He clarifies me. HE IS WITHIN ME and I WILL NOT FALL. I don’t have to have all the answers. Other than this one… He IS the answer.

Whatever storms come against you or before you, KNOW GOD… and you will know He is with you and for you. He works ALL things for good. He doesn’t give you second best… He gives you HIS best. ALWAYS. AMEN.

Thursday, July 2, 2015

All my efforts...

There are days when my best efforts are simply not enough… I am not perfect, I definitely make mistakes but I do the best that I can and somehow muddle through. then I am reminded, with a quick reality check, that there is one way through this messy world… and I am not the solution.

I live a grounded in Jesus life, I serve in ministry and I feel like I am growing into the kind of person that Jesus would be proud to say “that’s MY girl.” I stand on the strength of my convictions. I seek to counsel and guide others to finding Truth and a relationship that is supremely intimate with Jesus. In the midst of experiencing blessing and connection to other believers AND actively seeing His hands at work in my life and the lives of others around me, I still find that stumbling block.

It’s more of a hurdle, a hard-hearted conflict, the kind that leaves your knees bloodied when you don’t manage to successfully clear it. You find yourself winded, the wind knocked out of your lungs… and suddenly you now longer wish to adult. As if that were an actual choice to be made. And here I sit, fuming and raging… venting and bitter. In the midst of a blessed day, I have been derailed by a single encounter. I cannot EVEN imagine extending grace or love… I am happy to say that the source of conflict is NOT technically my “neighbor” because miles exist between us. I know in my heart that Jesus is shaking His head and weeping over my pique of uncharitable thoughts and plots to overthrow all who dare come against me.

Here I sit. Unsatisfied. Irritated. Wanting justice. A lightning bolt. Something, please God something. Anger is that nasty infection that once inflamed does not easily subside, it burns red hot… starving for more fuel, consuming everything. Peace is lost. And found again.

The lightning bolt is this… my best efforts are never going to be enough. I am not righteous enough, evolved enough, or even adult enough to power through conflict or storms on my own strength. I am human, fallible and flawed… I cannot do this in my own strength. There is a prevalent darkness looming in the world, seeking to destroy us with our own best efforts and intentions. So, pouting maturely, I submit to Jesus my need for this “justice”, I will release my anger and let Him sort out the details.

Jesus, I am not enough. Please, please, PLEASE, carry me over, around and through the storms that come before me. Give me the words to speak the truth in love, even to… ugh… especially to my “neighbor”… because I am not doing this on my own. Thank you that your love is sufficient for all of my needs, and it is your love that drives out the darkness and quenches the flames of anger. AMEN.