I really am still here and so many words are bottled up inside but no matter how I try I cannot seem to make them come out right. For now I seem to be working out my thoughts on life with old furniture and paint. I will be back. The words will come when the time is right. Until then, I hope you are continuing to enjoy your summer.
For His Glory ~
~ Sara
I implore you to not give in to despair. It is a dangerous temptation, because our Adversary has refined it to the point that it is quite subtle. Hopelessness constricts and withers the heart, rendering it unable to sense God’s blessings and grace. It also causes you to exaggerate the adversities of life and makes your burdens seem too heavy for you to bear. Yet God’s plans for you, and His ways of bringing about His plans are infinitely wise.
Streams, June 1
Romans 5 says, “We also have joy with our troubles, because we know that these troubles produce patience. And patience produces character, and character produces hope. And this hope will never disappoint us, because God has poured out his love to fill our hearts. He gave us his love through the Holy Spirit, whom God has given to us.” (NCV)
The past nine months have been riddled with trials. Trials common to life but trials just the same. I have not been patient. I have not developed character. I have bucked against and resisted every single one. And I have lost hope.
But today I choose hope. I choose to yield and listen and trust. Trials will continue to come and the flaming arrows of the Enemy will continue to fly. But I will hope in the salvation of the Lord. I will hope in His steadfast love. I will hope in the victory that has been promised.
Because this hope will never disappoint. My children will disappoint. My husband will disappoint. Life will disappoint. I will disappoint. But this hope will never disappoint because it is founded on the Rock, a firm foundation, One that will never move or change or let me down. He is unshakeable, unfailing, an anchor for the soul.
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.
~ Hebrews 6:19
For His Glory ~
~ Sara
Often it is simply the answers to our prayers that cause many of the difficulties in our Christian life. We pray for patience, and our Father sends demanding people our way who test us to the limit, “because…suffering produces perseverance” (Romans 5:3). We pray for a submissive spirit, and God sends suffering again, for we learn to be obedient in the same way Christ “learned obedience from what He suffered” (Hebrews 5:8).
We pray to be unselfish, and God gives us opportunities to sacrifice by placing other people’s needs first and by laying down our lives for other believers. We pray for strength and humility, and “a messenger of Satan” (2 Corinthians 12:7) comes to torment us until we lie on the ground pleading for it to be withdrawn.
We pray to the Lord, as His apostles did, saying, “Increase our faith!” (Luke 17:5). Then our money seems to take wings and fly away; our children become critically ill; an employee becomes careless, slow, and wasteful; or some other new trial comes upon us, requiring more faith than we have ever before experienced.
We pray for a Christlike life that exhibits the humility of a lamb. Then we are asked to perform some lowly task, or we are unjustly accused and given no opportunity to explain for “He was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and…did not open his mouth” (Isiah 53:7).
We pray for gentleness and quickly face a storm of temptation to be harsh and irritable. We pray for quietness, and suddenly every nerve is stressed to its limit with tremendous tension so that we may learn that when He sends His peace, no one can disturb it.
We pray for love for others, and God sends unique suffering by sending people our way who are difficult to love and who say things that get on our nerves and tear at our heart. He does this because “love is patient, love is kind…It is not rude,…it is not easily angered…It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” (1 Corinthians 13: 4-5, 7-8)
Yes, we pray to be like Jesus, and God’s answer is: “I have tested you in the furnace of affliction” (Isaiah 48:10); “Will your courage endure or your hands be strong?” (Ezekiel 22:14); “Can you drink the cup?” (Matthew 20:22).
The way to peace and victory is to accept every circumstance and every trial as being straight from the hand of our loving Father; to live “with Him in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 2:6), above the clouds, in the very presence of His throne; and to look down from glory on our circumstances as being lovingly and divinely appointed.
~ Streams in the Desert, May 13
As I wrestle through another morning at home and the little ones continue to wear my rough spots smooth, I find myself resisting, and seriously considering running away. At least for a little while.
And then I send them all to read and rest after lunch. I hide away in the quiet writing spot I just created, Sonic ice water on the desk, and I begin to decompress. I grab the Streams I had book marked from a couple of days ago and smile with God at how I needed this today.
These things I pray for…why am I surprised at how I must learn them? And what more effective tools of God than these little people who are with me day in and day out? And what will it take for the lessons to stick?
I don’t know when this heart will learn to respond first with grace and patience and gentleness. I don’t know when that “one more thing” that wants to push me over the edge will instead push me to my knees. I just don’t know when this heart will be right. But I do know that He who started a work, will be faithful to complete it. And I continue to trust that He will take these broken things that I offer up daily – my meager attempts to love and trust and give. I trust that He will use them and make something beautiful out of the dust that I am and that He will be glorified in this home, in these lives.
For His Glory~
~ Sara
Sometimes an old acquaintance posts something to Facebook that makes you stop and think:
I have no idea if she was talking about me or not. Hopefully I wasn’t so bad to actually qualify as a “godless whore”, but you never know. I was definitely a bit of a mess. Either way, it got me thinking about so many things. Like how the choices you make and the reputation you earn can follow you the rest of your life. And also how amazing it is that a perfect and holy God can overlook it all.
I’ve battled against the Enemy’s lies this year and I finally feel myself becoming stronger again. God’s truth is once again drowning out the sound of defeat and discouragement and I feel myself rising again to do battle against the Prince of Lies. These words of healing played through SUV speakers last week….
There’s a girl in the corner
With tear stains on her eyes
From the places she’s wandered
And the shame she can’t hide
She says, “How did I get here?
I’m not who I once was.
And I’m crippled by the fear
That I’ve fallen too far to love”
But don’t you know who you are,
What’s been done for you?
Yeah don’t you know who you are?
You are more than the choices that you’ve made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You’ve been remade.
Well she tries to believe it
That she’s been given new life
But she can’t shake the feeling
That it’s not true tonight
She knows all the answers
And she’s rehearsed all the lines
And so she’ll try to do better
But then she’s too weak to try
But don’t you know who you are?
You are more than the choices that you’ve made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You’ve been remade.
You are more than the choices that you’ve made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You’ve been remade.
‘Cause this is not about what you’ve done,
But what’s been done for you.
This is not about where you’ve been,
But where your brokenness brings you to
This is not about what you feel,
But what He felt to forgive you,
And what He felt to make you loved.
You are more than the choices that you’ve made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You’ve been remade.
You are more than the choices that you’ve made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You’ve been remade.
You’ve been remade
You’ve been remade.
You’ve been remade.
You’ve been remade.
(You are More by Tenth Avenue North)
[ From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/t/tenth-avenue-north-lyrics/you-are-more-lyrics.html ]
And those lies that my sins are bigger than my Savior have haunted me in my past and they’ve haunted me this year. The lie that all of my weaknesses and inadequacies, my struggles and my stumblings with these children, this husband, this life, that He’s not big enough to overcome it – all a lie from the one who seeks to devour and destroy.
A dear friend sends this quote yesterday from The Mother Letters:
It is a complete matter of trust that He will give our children what they need despite our shortcomings. ~ Rachel McAdams
And last night as we sat in worship we sang the lyrics,
Sing to Jesus
Lord of our shame
Lord of our sinful hearts
He is our great Redeemer
Sing to Jesus
Honor His name
Sing of His faithfulness
Pouring His life out unto death
Come, you weary
And He will give you rest
Come you who mourn
Lay on His breast
(Sing to Jesus by Fernando Ortega)
Oh the mighty Savior that He would bear our sins and shame and welcome us with open arms, a soft place to fall. And that He would cover over my weaknesses and fill in the gaps with His strength and healing.
So as I come back to the Facebook post that prompted this spilling of words, two things come to mind. First, for anyone young who happens to be reading this – what you do now matters. Who you are now matters. In a world of social networking and digital never-to-be-deleted connectedness, your choices now matter a lot. But the second point, and this is for the young person and everyone else – this God, my God, He’s big enough to cover it with His grace. Friends from fifteen years ago may not offer fresh-start grace, but Jesus does.
And for that grace, the thanksgiving never ends.
1714. four days, five doctor’s offices
1715. six and a half hours in outpatient care
1716. a mended arm
1717. a red cast
1718. my girl feeling so much better
1719. serving the hungry with my Chandler, my servant-child
1720. going to the airport to welcome home the Jayhawks
1721. making a memory with my girls
1722. feeling the weight lift
1723. James MacDonald study
1724. bearing up
1725. finding His blessings
1726. the annual candy toss
1727. Easter celebrations
1728. a Texas trip with my Emma
1729. evening with good friends from Matt’s past
1730. audiobook on the iPod
1731. discovering the joy of listening to a book
1732. last days of school – the end is near!
1733. pinpointing some of my struggles
1734. praying through changes
1735. a new office, a new chapter in our lives
1736. home school conference, lunch, and shopping with my favorite
1737. a two hour nap
1738. quiet girls
1739. Overflow worship
1740. relentless, overwhelming grace
All for His glory ~
~ Sara
This morning we sit quiet. Two middle girls are gone for standardized testing. The youngest, she’s not old enough to test yet. The oldest, she rests still, nursing a broken arm today. And I am thankful for this week. An unplanned Spring Break that our minds, souls, and bodies needed. Nothing planned. Just quiet, semi-structured days. And I marvel at how much this has ministered to my home schooling heart; I, who typically does not take a spring break, and how well my girls have responded to the break. Five weeks remain when we return. The end is near. 🙂
So, the broken arm… Our second born has been begging to go to the skate park. She got a skate board for Christmas and apparently our driveway isn’t exciting enough. So, last night, on a beautiful spring evening, we ate dinner early and loaded up. When we arrived, the child who had begged to go wouldn’t even get her skate board out because there were some teenagers there and she was embarrassed. (She won’t admit that, but that’s what happened. I know, because I would have been the exact same way. Some teenagers still make me self-conscious. 😉 ) But the first and third born children, they snapped on their roller blades and went for it. And we weren’t even there five minutes and Matt comes over to me helping Grace hold her arm and no one’s crying or even seems upset, but the wrist, it looks strange. And he says, “I think her arm is broken.” Three hours, increasing pain, a trip to the ER, and some x-rays later, she was home with a splint, and feeling pretty slap-happy thanks to Tylenol-3. Today she will rest and lay low; perhaps we all will, and tomorrow we will see what the orthopedist has to say.
This morning as I was getting ready it just intrigued me that God knew this was going to happen last night. He knew we would only be at that park five minutes before she fell. And I just find it so interesting. I’m not upset about the arm or the expense or the inconvenience. I feel bad for Grace, but these things happen. But I am waiting expectantly for God to show me the purpose of this, the why. I know He will. Nothing is by chance; He allowed it for a reason.
It was sweet to see the other girls so concerned and compassionate. One would have thought we were going to a funeral for all the tears the youngest shed. And the third-born cut loose a scarf she had been knitting in the truck for her grandmother and gave it to Grace to use as a sling. And Emma was concerned, she just showed it differently, through cautious questions and worried expressions.
I am thankful this week and this morning my heart feels full, in spite last night’s events. There are so many things on my to do list, but the slowing down is a gift to us all. God is so good.
1684. a new day
1685. IBESR case number
1686. lunch out with a sweet friend
1687. Haiti girl’s 5th birthday
1688. Skype and her smile and shy nod
1689. grease burns
1690. “Hot & Ready” pizza
1691. just going to bed
1692. looming project finished
1693. sunshine!
1694. Miracle cream for burns
1695. Bradford pear blossoms falling like snow
1696. sunshine and afternoon prayers on the porch
1697. fine arts competition
1698. girls who use their gifts and one who stretches herself
1699. friends, Sol Cantina, and a Jayhawk win
1700. quiet Saturday to rest at home
1701. day of rest that was actually restful
1702. watching the Jayhawks with my favorite people
1703. Final Four bound!
1704. wonderful end to a wonderful day
1705. the smell of spring
1706. walking to the park
1707. “Father May I” and charades with the girls
1708. a quiet day at home
1709. eating dinner outside
1710. girls excited to paint the playhouse
1711. oldest child’s broken wrist
1712. compassionate, merciful sisters
1713. precious friends for all of us
A friend posted this on Facebook recently:
“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.'” – C.S. Lewis
This year has been long and I wear it on my sleeve and share it with the world and I thank all of you for being such precious friends to me through prayers and encouragement and hanging in. I am blessed by the encouragement I receive from so many for simply sharing my heart and what God is doing in this broken life. He is merciful and you all are so kind. Thank you.
For His Glory ~
~ Sara
When the tears fall free and hard before 7 am and you talk controlled-soft to keep from yelling in frustration, it’s hard not to wonder where you went wrong. When you fall asleep praying tomorrow will be better and you wake up still praying for a softened heart, for joy, for grace, you sometimes wonder what God is up to.
This year has been hard and I’ve said it too many times and I feel like I’m using it as an excuse. But God has put us here for a reason, for a purpose, and I just don’t understand it yet. But we wrestle, He and I. And I ask and I pray and I cry out and I wait patiently for an answer for why He has called us to this, led us to this, yet every step lately has been so painful. And some days are good and some days I see hope. But most days, it seems, we are just getting by, trying to make it through to the next one.
I hate just surviving. I want to enjoy this life, these days, this time.
I walked by a stray Barbie doll this morning and my heart stopped momentarily. I was taken back to five years ago, eight years ago, when life was Barbies and Princesses and nap times and trips to the zoo and my biggest concern in life was what time does the baby need to eat again.
Now here we stand at the precipice of adolescence. Two girls on the brink of teenage-hood, two more following hard after, and one waiting in Haiti with who-knows-what kind of baggage to unpack. And I know that, comparatively, these are the easy days too; the days before boys and periods and driving. And my heart hurts because I don’t believe we’re ready, don’t believe they’re ready, and I feel like I am the one that has failed them. And I fear that we’ve somehow missed our window.
I know that’s not all entirely true and it’s a lie from the Enemy as he tries to knock me off my feet. But you hear a lie day in and day out and it starts to become a part of you.
But my God, He makes beauty from ashes. He restores what the locust has eaten. And when I give thanks, even amidst the hard days, hard years, I open my life – our lives – up to more of what He wants for us.
Some days life gets so crazy and the way gets dark and I can’t see Him, but that doesn’t change the fact that He is here with me. I have to trust Him that He will see us through this season, that better days await us. I cling to His promises that He will not leave nor forsake. I trust that He will take my offering as a broken mother, broken wife, and make something beautiful out of these children, out of our lives.
As I go to the Word throughout the day, He reminds me to give thanks in all things. In my quiet time He reminds me to bring the sacrifice of thanksgiving. Regardless of my feelings. He tells me to thank Him for my irritations. This constant giving of thanks, it doesn’t always make everything better. Some things are still hard. But my heart, it softens. My mind, at least for a few moments, finds peace and rest in the middle of the rushing roar of life.
God’s grace is amazing and His faithfulness is never failing. He is with me and He is at work, even if I can’t see or feel it. He is not surprised by the struggles we have and really I shouldn’t be either. He has a purpose for this season. He is making beauty from ashes.
1673. priceless words from our daughter’s mouth –
words of love, longing for her home, family, Papa
1674. a weekend away
1675. time as a family
1676. six bodies in one small room
1677. protection
1678. stitches that help heal
1679. Shredding with my favorite
1680. tears that fall early in the morning
1681. continued brokeness
1682. husband that leads, regroups
1683. a God that never fails
Thanks for hanging in with me this year. I’m beginning to feel like a bit of a whiner as our troubles are so small compared to so many. But our struggles are real and God has us here for a purpose. And as eager as I am to be out of this valley, I never want to forget what He’s teaching me here.
All For His Glory ~
~ Sara
This morning, in the early dark, I read this….
Christ is building His kingdom with the broken things of earth. People desire only the strong, successful, victorious, and unbroken things in life to build their kingdoms, but God is the God of the unsuccessful – the God of those who have failed. Heaven is being filled with earth’s broken lives, and there is no “bruised reed” (Isaiah 42:3) that Christ cannot take and restore to a glorious place of blessing and beauty. ~ Streams, March 15
Tonight, in the cool of the evening I am thankful for a God who uses broken things, broken people. For a God who makes beauty from ashes. I thank Him for showing me that a heart-felt prayer uttered out loud is more effective than arguing with my child. I thank Him for children that forgive my shortcomings and chores that will be there tomorrow and a bed to fall into soon. I give thanks that tomorrow is Friday and this weekend is time as a family and that at least for a little while we’ll all step back and just be.
May your weekend be blessed and may your eyes be opened to the beautiful things God is creating in your life right now.
For His Glory ~
~ Sara
I start this journey, these forty days. Forty days of preparation, forty days of making room. An intentional clearing of space in my home and my heart for more of my Savior. The 40 bags in 40 days is not a way of salvation, it is a way of working out that salvation, and one is not more or less righteous as a person for having done it or not. But for me, even in this first week, I see the benefit, I feel the peace.
Forced to pace myself and not tear my house apart in one day, I pray through each area. Lord, what would you have me work on today? Lord, what should I keep? What would benefit someone else? What is keeping me or someone in my family from knowing you more deeply? What is trash? Show me the way, Lord, and I will walk in it. A theoretically simple task becomes spiritual. Something I do regularly anyway (cleaning out and organizing) becomes a pathway to communion with Him.
This exercise combined with this book…
….(which arrived conveniently on Ash Wednesday) have together led me deeper in to relationship with Him. The structured prayers, said four times a day in my world, provide a back drop to an on-going conversation that had become stale. Praying back God’s word, conveniently written out for me, has it ever on my mind and heart.
Eight days in, my house is becoming less cluttered with stuff, my heart is becoming more full of His presence. I see the beauty of preparing for Easter, a long waiting for His salvation, and I see myself, once again, longing for ever more of Him. He is so good to me.
For His Glory ~
~ Sara
I realize this morning as I lay in bed, wide awake and talking to God at 3:15, that I have completely checked out on this school year. And, ashamed as I am to admit it, I have checked out of family life in a lot of ways the past couple of months.
This year started off well. The first month was one of our best ever. And then some switch flipped, or a series of switches, I’m not sure….but this has been, hands down, the most challenging school year we’ve done. Not for any one thing or subject or child, just every day a waking up and realizing we are going to fight the same battles today that we fought yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. And I realized that at some point in the past six months, I threw up my hands in defeat and gave in to merely making it through this year, pinning all of my hopes of improvement on next year with new curriculum, new plans, and new possibilities.
As my children go through their day reminding me more and more of chickens in a barn yard – distracted, squawky, messy, and pecking a lot at each other – I wonder what on earth is missing, what am I doing wrong? And I realize it’s me. I’m at the table, but I’m not present. I’m in the room, but my mind is two dozen other places. And I believe that therein lies the answer, they sense my absence and surrender to the madness and they sense the lack of structure in spite of all the systems and structures I have in place. They need my presence more than anything – not just physical, but mentally engaged, emotionally available.
And I believe that’s the hardest part of this. To make myself emotionally available to people who daily have the capacity to hurt me, most often unintentionally. To have their fleshly natures thrust in my face each moment of each day, thus baring my own sin nature as well….it’s hard. And exhausting. And that’s why I’ve withdrawn. Distance is easier than dealing with it day after day after day. And that’s a totally wrong way of handling my kids.
So, today, on this last day of the 3rd quarter of the school year, on this Leap Day 2012, we will do a little bit of school this morning, then head out on a couple of field trips. I will do my best to engage my girls and set a new tone for the last nine weeks. I can’t pin all my hopes on next year. Next year doesn’t need that kind of pressure. I can only choose to be available to my family and make each day the best it can be. And this is a scary thing to put out there. Not only for the brutal honesty of it all, but also the accountability, because now I have to engage. I can’t just think about it and ignore it. I have to do it, knowing that I don’t have the emotional energy to do this day in and day out. But God, He gives grace each day, mercies every morning. And if He has called me to this, which I believe He has, then I can also trust Him to equip me for the task. As I had my quiet time this morning and these thoughts all rolled around in my head, He gave me this as I opened the devotions on my phone:
“You are on the right path. Listen more to Me, and less to your doubts. I am leading you along the way I designed just for you. Therefore, it is a lonely way, humanly speaking. But I go before you as well as alongside you, so you are never alone. Do not expect anyone to understand fully My ways with you, anymore than you can comprehend My dealings with others. I am revealing to you the path of Life day by day, moment by moment. As I said to My disciple Peter, so I repeat to you: Follow Me.” ~ Jesus Calling, February 29
There will be more hard days, but my Jesus is with me, every step, and my kids deserve to have me – all of me – here with them.
For His Glory ~
~ Sara
I want to write, but the words come slow. The house lies quiet still. I will let them sleep a while longer. Yesterday was a long day. We all need rest.
One week. One week until we go. One week until I meet her. One week until everything changes.
Everyone asks if I am excited. Of course I am excited! But excited lies beneath busy and half-crazy and slightly stressed out. Getting six of us ready for a trip of this length is no small undertaking. The husband, he threatens not to take me on trips anymore. I will have the freedom to feel excited in a week. When the house sitter is here and the door is locked and all is done that can be done and good byes are said and we are headed out. That’s when excitement will hit.
Until then, it’s one foot in front of the other, do the next thing, trying to whittle the to do list down to what is truly necessary, trying to keep it from taking over life and stealing time and stealing joy.
That’s the true challenge this week. To find joy in the midst of the chaos. I know this is what God continues to work in me this past year. He prepares me for something, I know not what, I dare not wonder too much. But lack of control is a running theme and I’m learning faster to notice it and to not resist it and fight for that control. But I’m still a slow learner sometimes and will kick against Him for some time before I become too tired to fight any more.
So, joy. That’s what I choose today. In the midst of the swirling madness of family life, I choose joy. In spite of seasonal depression that tries to sneak in and a whole hotbed of other raw, real emotions that bubble just below the surface, I choose joy. In the face of Satan’s attacks and lists that run long and children that will be children and real life that is just inconvenient sometimes, I choose joy.
I know firsthand that my God is with me. He is my very present help in time of trouble. He has made His presence known to me already today. Right now, this song plays on my computer. I soak in truth and will cling to it today. And I will choose joy.
For His Glory ~
~ Sara
My Ears Are Tired 