All in Christian Living
“Anyone can write a book.”
“I don’t make very much from it.”
“It really isn’t that exciting.”
These are the phrases I have caught myself saying over and over again. Truth be told, I have been saying variations of these same things my whole life. Not for people to pity me, or to fish for a compliment. No, I think deep down I just didn’t want anyone to think that I thought too highly of myself. Because I don’t. I am not that great.
It happened one evening while driving along the coastline late at night that I, as I often do, pointed to the vast expanse of water and instructed my boys to "look at the ocean"! I want them to look at it as often as possible to both be grateful for the incredible place that God has allowed us to live in, and be reminded of how big our God really is. To see the beauty of what He merely spoke into existence and let the breathtaking views wash over whatever small anxieties we may be facing.
Except this time... this time it was the middle of the night and there was no telling the end of the ocean from the beginning of the sky. Everything was dark.
As I headed to the back of my garage to get change for a woman buying some clothes for her son, I turned around just in time to see grandma take a nasty fall. The wet cement had gotten the better of her and I rushed over to offer my help and tell her how sorry I was for her slipping. I kept talking nervously until I realized she wasn’t understanding a lick of what I was saying. And then it happened.
Every mother has a catch phrase that she tells her kids from time to time. My mom’s was “You’re my favorite, but don’t tell the other kids”. Of course she did this to all of us- more times than not right in front of my other siblings- but it still made us feel special. I have found my own recently. From the time my boys were small I have told them that I loved them “with all of my heart”. I never thought anything of it, never thought that they would remember me by this, until my four year old recently developed this wonderful game out of it.
In the spirit of being transparent and honest, I’ll share a little bit about this season of life that I’m in. Last year, I entered into a relationship and it became very serious. So much so that we had looked at and tried on engagement rings, picked out songs and various other details of the wedding I was so expectant for. And then one day recently, I found myself no longer in that relationship. I was so unprepared for that loss and to be honest with you, I didn’t accept it. At the core of my being I so much did not want to be in the season I had just entered into that I was determined to find a way around it.
So, this thing doesn’t come with directions? Why is she crying? Why won’t she STOP crying? What do you mean she isn’t latched properly and furthermore, how does the word latch have to do with the incessant milk draining from my body as if I’m a dairy cow out to pasture? Why won’t she STOP crying? Her poop should be what color? You mean I have to actually examine it? Why won’t she STOP crying? Does this thing ever sleep? I’m sure she will never sleep. Ever.
It was nearly five o’clock and the invitations all said seven. I hadn’t done my makeup, or hair, or started baking, or even finished cleaning. However I was sitting on my couch watching one of my favorite television shows that I had missed in the rush of the week and now that my husband had taken the boys for the night so I could prepare for my first youth pastor’s wives “monthly meet up” I had finally had the time to sit down.
Not that I truly had time for sitting, but it didn’t matter. I looked at the clock, calculated the time each task would take, and continued watching.
Paul from a prison cell writes to the believers in Philippi a sobering letter found in the book of Philippians. To summarize his message for them, he begins by writing that he’d be better off dead. I’m serious. He says in 1:21 “to die is GAIN.” He had Christ in his heart and heaven to gain so what was preventing him from just rolling over right there in his prison cell to die? It would have been the best thing for him. He had been beaten and chained, mocked and misunderstood. He had his motives questioned, and his friends leave him. He had been drug so low that his body wanted nothing more than death and to be with his Jesus, but he remained. He remained for them.
YOU, who are fighting.
YOU, who are weary.
YOU, who are being tested...there is grace for you.
YOU, who are carrying the burdens of another.
YOU, who are making important life decisions.
YOU, who are straining to hear God's voice...there is grace for you.
My youth pastor would always say that "delayed obedience is still disobedience" and while I agreed that it was true, I never truly grasped just how much procrastinating could harm us until now.
We have come to the age of bargaining with our youngest son. Honestly we have been here awhile now, but in the past few weeks it has escalated quite a bit. Let me just start off by saying… I am not a fan.
For a great majority of my life I have struggled with anxiety. If you've ever experienced it or struggled with it yourself, you know how crippling it can be. Panic attacks grip you physically and emotionally and are all consuming.
Anxiety looks different for everyone but for me, I picture it as this tsunami like force that is rushing around inside of me. When I'm riding the wave of anxiety it becomes hard to breathe, to stand, and its almost impossible to form words sometimes. For years my anxiety made me feel weak, and I was ashamed of it. I hated the fact that I had no control over it and that nothing I did could make it better. I didn't talk about it to anyone, and I tried to ignore panic attacks to make them go away.
Don’t get caught up in it all ,sweet girls. It isn’t you. It’s him. (The "him" of course being Satan, the Devil, Beelzebub, "Giant Lying piece of poop under my shoe"... you know, whatever you want to call him.) He wants nothing more than for you to keep God in a box and pull Him out only when absolutely necessary and what's worse is that he is using our society to do it. But that is not how we are supposed to live. God isn’t only for the “appropriate” times, He is for “all” times. The good, the bad, and the slept so hard your face is covered in drool and your arms are numb ugly. And if I had one thing to say to our hyper confused society that we live in today, one request for the benefit of us all, it would be this…
