“I had no choice but to be first!”

Tags

bear grad, black excellence, education, hidden figures, master’s of arts, role model, the first

I’ve heard it called a few things. Cycle breaking. Trailblazer. First generation student. Whatever you call it, if I was going to do it, I had to be first. I was watching the movie Hidden Figures, and there’s a scene where Mary Jackson, a black woman, petitions the court to attend classes at an all white school; at the judge’s bench she makes her case and says, “I have no choice but to be the first.” Her character is probably my favorite because of her moxie! That moment struck me because I realized that’s what was in me.

I was the first member of my family to want to go to college, and so I had to figure out what that was going to look like. There was no trail for me to follow. If I was going, I was going to have to find my own way. That included two jobs where I worked anywhere between 50-60 hours a week along with a full course load. If I was going to be first, that was going to be the cost. If you can understand the magnitude of that work load, you can see it was almost unbearable. It cost me, but I knew education was the key to everything I wanted.

If education wasn’t important, people wouldn’t have had to sit in at lunch counters or march for access to it. If education wasn’t important for success, it wouldn’t have been kept out of the hands of every minority in front of me who had to make their case in order to have the right to learn in ways that were really equal. There would have never been a Brown V. Topeka Board of Education. Remember that for all the people who say you can make it without education as you discount its importance. People bled and died so I could have access to the very thing that gives us all access to opportunities they dreamed of; remember them when you mock education.

If you’re going to be the first at something, know that not everyone will support it. There may be jealousy to contend with, or people may find ways to try to trip you up. Some people don’t want others to have what they don’t. Please don’t let that discourage you. Whatever that thing is for you, go for it knowing that no matter what you do, those same people were going to find something wrong with it. Don’t let them hinder what you know you were meant to do.

Now that I’ve been the first, those steps I took can empower others to know they can too. I hope it inspires my children to see me receive another round of degrees next weekend. I hope them seeing momma get hooded and handed a diploma is something they can look back on someday to know that whatever their thing is, it can be accomplished. The things that are most worth it have the highest cost.

Find the thing you want the most and pay the cost to open the doors you know you want to walk through, and do them with every bit of excellence in you. Be sure to prop those doors open for others on your way through. Be the first. Somebody has to be.

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Spring Forward

Tags

adulting, daylight’s saving time, Parenting, spring forward, time change

Time change. Springing forward. For most Americans this will happen tomorrow morning. Our clocks will rob us of an hour of sleep- on the surface.

This accurately describes what will actually happen- everything will be disturbed. Nap time. Meal times. Overnight sleeping. I mean, really, do I know anyone who’s jumping up and down with raised hands volunteering to hand over an hour of sleep that will upend everything for months? By months, I mean the effects will ripple out until the NEXT time change.

No! No one wants this. Why do we follow this antiquated system because some kite flyer who poses smuggly on $100 bills decided it was a great idea FOREVER ago? Who actually believes Benjamin Franklin was getting up with restless, out of synch kids all night? I don’t.

How are we to survive this annual assault of the systems and schedules we work for all year? How are we to be resilient enough to get everyone back on track? Especially after a long winter season of sickness where you’ve finally got a fighting chance at getting everyone healthy after finally pulling off the miracle of getting your 15 month old to sleep through the night (insert ragged breath here)? Maybe that’s just my house. Need some encouragement?

I have none. Batten down the hatches. Buy the coffee. Drink the Spark- mixed in Gatorade (pro tip)! Buy the really good Kleenex because there will be tears. Pick out a great show to binge while you spend your night putting kids back to bed. Buy the really good special chocolate, and brace yourself. This is going to be hard.

Well, I guess there’s a little encouragement in knowing that there are literally thousands of sleep deprived parents just trying to get their kids a great night of sleep after long witching hours and resistance.

May the odds even be in our favor friends! Suit up! This is going to get ugly…

Hoping Rightly

Tags

Christmas, hope in Christ, idolatry

There is not a politician now nor will there ever be, who can save or redeem any aspect of our lives.

The evangelical community seems so willing to sacrifice the tenants of scripture in their blind allegiance to a person or political party, and that is idolatry at its worst. When you can’t acknowledge the fault in something and refuse even factual information that undermines what you want to believe, you are bowing to an idol.

At the time of year where we celebrate the coming of Christ, it seems like a good idea to pause and rightly acknowledge the one who came to give redeeming grace. It seems insane to hold others up in a position they don’t belong in as we shout down the war on Christmas (which isn’t a thing), all while praising those who said they saved it. They have never saved anything or anyone.

I hate that meme where Jesus is telling Santa He’s sad because Christmas is all about Santa. I think it’s ridiculous. I do however think that if anything would devastate the heart of Christ, it’s not a pretend figure getting attention and adoration, but one who is flesh and blood for whom people will push down what Christ has called wrong to justify and explain and excuse their words and actions.

So let’s be clear:

• Slavery was and is still wrong. Unquestionably. Don’t argue for anything around it and include it.
• Touching, molesting, or having sexual contact with children is wrong. The inability to admit that it is wrong, no matter when it happened, is detestable.
• White supremacy or any other radical group based on being racially superiority which also seeks to destroy others because of race, religion, or ethnicity are from hell.
• It’s not okay to lie for convenience.
• It’s not okay to grope or touch someone sexually because of your position in anything.
• Racial profiling is wrong.

It’s 2017, and I just typed that list. It’s 2017 and those things have to be said. That’s appalling, and that should make us all truly, deeply sad.

As I begin to prepare my home for Christmas, I want to hope rightly in the Christ who came to save and redeem the world. I want to remember that I am to make much of Him here and then go and enjoy Him forever. I won’t accomplish that if I hope in anything or anyone else.

To hope rightly means to hope all things in the person of Christ. It also means to be willing to call out things done in His name that are not a reflection of His heart; things that make a mockery of that hope.

I’ve most often known that people who don’t want to call out wrong won’t because they don’t want to have to do that with people they love or themselves. You can’t accept everything. The Bible calls us to sober judgement, and if you can excuse anything I mentioned above, I’d challenge you to examine why you can’t say things which are wrong are wrong.

Christ has come. Hope in that. That hope, in Him, is all you need.

Breastfeeding

Tags

Anxiety, breastfeeding, lactation consultant, lactation consulting, marriage, motherhood, postpartum depression

I have had three breastfeeding journeys, and they have all been as different as you can imagine. As I looked down at my baby just a few days ago while he nursed on the eve of his first birthday, I was struck by memory and had so much that I knew needed to be penned or it would be lost in the shuffle of the overflowing thing my brain is.

Joshua has nursed beautifully this whole first year. I prayed about this my whole pregnancy. I don’t mean I prayed like, “God it would sure be nice if he would breastfeed okay.” I prayed like, on my face while pleading with the Lord that he would nurse beautifully because my first two experiences traumatized me in some ways.

With Lauren, I went back to work so I had to pump and store for while she was at Nana’s house. She still latched and ate pretty well with me, but before too long, the bottle was her preference. When she was eight months old, she bit me. It wasn’t a nibble. She broke skin and there was blood and I thought I was going to throw up because it hurt so bad, and then die. Death was surely coming. I saw the lactation consultant, and she advised me not to nurse on that side while using lanolin to help it heal. I could only express with very little suction for short periods of time so that it didn’t tear back open. I was so engorged that I thought I would surely die this time. What came next? Mastitis. It was like having the flu everywhere. Antibiotics helped, and eventually the bite healed. Right after, I felt her start to bite the other side, and I threw in the towel on direct nursing. I seriously could not go through having to recover from a bite again. I pumped and bottle fed while supplementing with a little formula until she was a year old.

Ethan was different. He latched beautifully for the first three or four months with no resistance, and then as if some switch flipped, he refused to nurse. I don’t mean he turned away from it. I mean he would scream until he was about out of breath and would only calm and drink expressed milk in a bottle. The lactation consultant and I were basically best friends by baby number two, and she said she had never seen a child who nursed with such ease become so resistant. Friends, that was a personality preview for Ethan. If he makes up his mind, that’s it. Well, he made up his mind to not nurse. This was right before we moved across the country so I became permanently attached to my pump. I pumped 10-12 times a day to keep up with the huge demand he had. I never thought any part of my babies aging would make me happy, but I was so glad to put real milk in a cup and my pump in storage on his first birthday.

Joshua has nursed beautifully and still is just passed the one year mark. I hoped and prayed to make it to his first birthday while knowing he would be okay if we didn’t. There were a few months right at the beginning where he’d take a bottle at night, but that was short lived. He only wants to nurse which creates its own challenges for a very tired momma, but I know what it means to get up 2-3 times a night to pump downstairs. Getting to snuggle him is much better. We are working on a cup, but he’s still not a fan.

So why did I want to share the specifics of each journey? Why was it important to show the contrast in experiences? I think there’s someone out there who needs to hear what I will say next:

No matter how my children were fed, I was a momma who deeply loved them and cherished them, and at the heart of each journey one thing was true- my success or struggle did not define me as their momma.

So much of the time there’s pressure to rise up the the expectations of others, and it is a damning feeling if you don’t. I felt it the first time when we started supplementing. It’s failure, but not just at the actual breastfeeding; it says you’re a failure at being a mom. It wrecks an already tender heart that is adjusting to so much change while trying to do the best you can for everyone regardless of the cost. I went through some postpartum depression when Lauren was about seven months old. It was so hard to see that for what it was. It was another blow that said there was something wrong with me and I didn’t measure up.

That’s not what was true. There is no fault or blame in any of it, and I can see that now looking back; I couldn’t see it when I was in it.

If you are in a glider somewhere reading this, and your baby won’t latch and your anxiety is through the roof and you are looking at your baby through swollen eyes because you are crying more than you are sleeping, my encouragement to you is that you aren’t alone. Go get help. Talk to a friend. Meet with a lactation consultant. Then do what’s best for your situation to get your baby fed. That’s what counts. It’s actually a measure of what a great mom you are that you are in that seat giving it your all because you are trying to do what you think is best for your child.

You have to know that you have to do what’s best for everyone. You can’t be a wife or mom to older kids or good to yourself if you are putting pressure on yourself to make your journey like someone else’s version of ideal. Find the ideal that works for your family.

I was so excited in some ways to be done with breastfeeding the first two times, but now I’m content to keep going as long as Joshua keeps doing well with it. Even though this last experience has been the easiest in some ways, I’m thankful for the first two because I know my success as a momma isn’t tied to how breastfeeding has gone this time either.

I hope we can all see the truth in that for ourselves. I hope if you’re struggling you won’t stay silent. I hope that we can encourage each other to do what’s best for our families and not cling to expectations that can’t always be met.

There are lots of things about being a parent that don’t go the way we expect, and I really think we would all do a lot better at those times if we could let these things go and enjoy our situations for what they are. Open your hands and let it go.

Backpack

Tags

America, Fear, love, Prejudice, protest, racial profiling, racism

If my husband meets me at a store, as soon as he sees me, the first thing he does is take the backpack full of our kid’s stuff off of my back. Why? I won’t push it around in my shopping cart. Why? The answer to that question is long.

The answer is based on a lifetime of experience which has taught me that having the backpack at all means I’ll probably be followed through the store, but placing it in the shopping cart means I definitely will be. Actually, the backpack isn’t a requirement for being followed; it happens without it. A lot.

Let that sink in. Have you ever had to think about something so trivial? Have you ever considered that there are people in the world who make decisions to try to protect themselves from being treated like criminals because life has taught them that people will assume the worst of them on sight?

There was a store in Kansas City that we stopped going to. Why? Every time we shopped there, I was followed. I don’t mean I think I was followed; I mean at least one employee followed me from section to section, watching me. When I would make eye contact, they came closer, scanning my basket, and asking if I was still okay. Counting. Checking.

The last visit, it was two different women. One followed me all the way from the upstairs section of this 270,000 square foot store, and when another employee downstairs noticed me, she joined the task force. As I was looking in the women’s section, they both actually almost ran into each other because they were so carefully watching me. It was like watching a Curly and Larry, but these two stooges did not illicit laughter from me. Before you say it, yes, I contacted the store’s management on both occasions. No. I was never contacted back.

The first time it happened was the first time my husband noticed that I was being followed. It really bothered him, and I had to explain to him why this person was conspicuously following me; if I have a bag and look how I look I know she thinks there’s a chance I could try to steal merchandise in it.

That’s why my backpack stays on my back and never goes into the cart. I know they know it would make it easier to steal if I can just slip stuff directly into my bag.

Now my husband carriers our bag. We have never once been followed with the bag in his cart or on his back. My husband and I have adored each other for ten years of marriage, and in that time he’s become more aware of the freedoms that are afforded him based solely on the way he looks in contrast with me.

The people who follow me in stores base their decision to do so on nothing about me besides what I look like. They don’t know me. They don’t know my character. They don’t know that I have no desire to steal from them. All they know is what they see.

Can you imagine that for a moment? Can you imagine that there are people in the world who have to make decisions, “big” and “small,” based on knowing that the way they look is going to determine how they will be treated in an innumerable amount of situations?

Imagine where you aren’t just someone’s friend, but you are their “black friend.” Imagine being asked why you think you belong with your friends when you are the only one who isn’t white or having people talk about you right in front of you expressing how you “don’t belong.”

Imagine knowing that checking a box and having a certain name will mean that you will have no less than three more interviews for the same job as someone else because you find out later the company has never hired a black person. Imagine finding out that after meeting you and seeing you, they felt better because of your light skin, but still needed three more interviews to be sure they wanted to hire you.

Have you ever been spared the additional pat down at the airport? Have you ever not had your hands swabbed? I don’t know what it would be like not to have to give extra time in security because there are always extra measures taken to check me out anytime I want to fly somewhere.

Can you feel that? Can you hear it?

I am not free to live my life in the same manner as so many people I love based solely on the fact that I look different. I am not free in all the ways that have been penned into law.

The Constitution has always said that men were created equal, but history shows how that is not the case. Have you ever had a heritage that counted your ancestors at 3/5 a person? Do you know what Jim Crow laws actually said? Don’t just know the name; go read them. Do you know what red-lining is? Look it up. Do you know why and when Civil War monuments were put up? Do you know that their locations were strategic for the use of intimidation at voting stations and courthouses? Have to read them? Do you know how inaccurate they are in true historical context?

None of these things may mean anything to you, but that doesn’t change someone else’s narrative. You may be able to shop or drive a car without concern that how you look will immediately cast you in a role of threat or criminal. I hope that’s true for you, but I’d like it to be true for everyone.

I believe in a really big America (reference to Jon Foreman article I will share a link for below- please read it). I believe in an America big enough for freedom that doesn’t lead others to operate out of fear. That’s what I’m doing by carrying that backpack. It’s an extra thirty pounds on my back (I have three kids so it’s a really heavy bag), but it’s nothing compared to the weight around my heart.

I imagine there are others with similar weights from being marginalized or treated differently for reasons you can’t control. I care about your weighted heart just as much as mine, and I believe that we really can see change if we love and strive to make a difference to the height our potential to exert change where we are most needed.

Where are you most needed? What injustices do you see that ignite something in you that screams, “No more!” because it keeps you up and rattles you? Go to that place and put your hands into the muck and start the work of turning the muck into something beautiful.

As we care enough to carry each other’s weight, we move forward in love and toward freedom. That’s a bigger America than you may be able to imagine. If it is, I’d challenge you to see the world outside yourself long enough to push back your preconceived notions. If you can’t do that, then you can’t love. If you can’t love long enough to listen, you are part of the problem. If you are part of the problem, open your heart and mind to become part of the solution.

http://switchfoot.com/the-national-anthem/

Breach & Chasm

Tags

division, humanity, one life, purpose, unity

There’s a chasm happening that is alarming. Somewhere there’s been a separation and divide that pushes everyone from common ground and empathy and onto “sides.” This breach has split and divided, and the yawning chasm between is growing. 

Whatever the issue is, there is an “us and them” mentality that is spreading like a cancer and is killing our ability to love people more than “our side.” There is an inability to consider or hear anything that doesn’t confirm our preconceived notions and beliefs. 

At what point did humanity as a whole begin to matter less than position on issues? How can we be inundated with so much information that we forget that real people are in these facts and figures? Real people who are hurting. Real people who are dying. Real people. Whether or not someone agrees with you does not eliminate their humanity. 

We get one shot. We get one life to impact this world. We get to display the glory of God in what is a fleeting few years in comparison to eternity, and that either means we get passed ourselves and onto the business of loving others or WE WASTE IT ALL!

We have to stop wasting the hope we have. We have to bridge this breach that created a chasm of vicious words and loveless actions. We have to carry the name of Jesus and His heart for people in all we do. His story is what matters. Jesus Christ is who saves, not a political party or news article or meme! 

I’ll close by sharing a poem that has shaped so much about what I think about the world. One. We all only get one life. May we not waste it. 

“Two little lines I heard one day, Traveling along life’s busy way; Bringing conviction to my heart, And from my mind would not depart;

Only one life, twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, yes only one, soon will its fleeting hours be done; Then, in ‘that day’ my Lord to meet, And stand before His Judgement seat;

Only one life,’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, the still small voice, Gently pleads for a better choice Bidding me selfish aims to leave, And to God’s holy will to cleave;

Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, a few brief years, Each with its burdens, hopes, and fears; Each with its clays I must fulfill, living for self or in His will;

Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

When this bright world would tempt me sore, When Satan would a victory score; When self would seek to have its way, Then help me Lord with joy to say;

Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Give me Father, a purpose deep, In joy or sorrow Thy word to keep; Faithful and true what e’er the strife, Pleasing Thee in my daily life;

Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Oh let my love with fervor burn, And from the world now let me turn; Living for Thee, and Thee alone, Bringing Thee pleasure on Thy throne;

Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, yes only one, Now let me say, ‘Thy will be done’; And when at last I’ll hear the call, I know I’ll say ’twas worth it all’;

Only one life,’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.”

C.T. Studd 

Do We Remember?

Tags

American rights, Bill of Rights, Constitution, peaceful protest, unity

There’s more disunity in our nation today than I can remember in a very long time. Coming on the heels of 9/11, I couldn’t help but ask myself one question: “Do we really remember?”

Do we remember the piercing blow we all felt as the Twin Towers crumbled and burned as we watched other Americans scramble to save those who were in harms way? Do we really remember the devastation that swept our land as we learned about a plane headed for the Pentagon? Do we remember the skies filled with smoke? Do we remember that the names etched into monuments at Ground Zero represent real people? Do we really remember that day?

I think if we really remembered how wounded our nation was, we would have to remember how the chant that rose from there was one of being “United!” It was beautiful to see aid sent, people come together in prayer, every difference matter less, and everyone’s pain matter as we wrapped arms around each other. 

Today, every place you look is flooded with disunity. I want to say something I know will be unpopular, but it’s just truth:

It is your right to disagree with the reasons why someone protests anything, but it is also their right under the Constitution and Bill of Rights to do that. I would rather see someone exercise their right peacefully, whether or not I agree with them, instead of burning down neighborhoods, hurting others, or making everyone remember their reckless actions more than their cause. 

Here’s what I wonder. Are we willing to listen to the reason anyone chooses to protest or are we willing to listen to the reasons given by others? Would you be willing to sit down with someone doing something you don’t agree with to find out why, from them? Not from media outlets. Not from those who are also opposed. Would you be willing to sit down with them, listen to them, and still care about loving them and extending grace to them more than pounding your drum so loud you can’t hear them? 

Does that mean you have to change your mind about why you disagree? No. Does that mean they have to stop the protest? No. Does that mean that we care more about each other than who is “right?” Yes. 

That’s the place to start. Concern for our fellow men. Concern for a narrative that may not be true for our lives, but is true for theirs. 

Does name-calling help? No. Does being hateful and unwilling to listen unite us? No. 

If you were to sit down with someone protesting something in our country and they said it had nothing to do with their love and respect for service members, first responders, veterans, and those who died for our country while protecting every right they are exercising, could you hear that? Could you set aside your own preconceived notions to hear this when others have said this is what they are trying to do? 

I am the proud sister of two Veterans, proud niece of Veteran uncles, and I love my country. I am an American, but I have to remember that those that think differently from me are too.

More than that, the founding fathers of our nation started this great experiment of a country because they were unheard. Our roots are in our rights to stand up. That’s why they were pinned so passionately in our laws. Our rights to say no to the status quo are fundamentally American. 

Maybe if we review the words in our anthem or founding documents we could also hear those protesting say that they don’t feel like they are free to the pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness. Maybe we could just hear that, and whether or not we think they are right, we could do them the basic act of decency of saying that though I agree or disagree, I want to understand where you are in this because all Americans deserve their voices heard. 

Instead of digging heels in on either side, we have to be willing to listen. We have to care about Americans when their experiences are different from ours, and we have to care about preserving the experiment of democracy that’s continuing in our country. There was no roadmap to perfect democracy when our nation started, but what we have here is worth preserving, united as a nation birthed from tyranny, created by immigrants, and whose mark is pressing toward inalienable rights being both protected and exercised. 

Today, I Wore Shorts

Tags

body image, fit mom, love yourself, mom body, motherhood, self care

The title of this post may seem like no big deal, but it was for me. I have always been body conscious in a lot of ways I don’t want to re-hash here. After having three kids, this is even more true. 

Right after our third baby was born, I finished up the physical therapy on the ankle I broke when I was 30 weeks pregnant with our second baby. I was finally cleared to be active again as long as I kept up with my PT work. I knew there would not be a whole lot or really any time for me to go to a gym, but I knew there was one place I could take initiative and control- the kitchen. 

I committed myself to drinking plenty of water and trying to eat lean protein and veggies. After about ten months, I am wearing a size medium very comfortably. This was a huge milestone for me. 

I still feel like I have a really long way to go. I’ve also seen the need to push my mind into places of being challenged. Yesterday that meant wearing shorts. 

I haven’t liked the shape my legs are in for years. I can see that they are improving by getting more lean and toned as I get more healthy, but I mostly see the imperfections when I look there. If you’ve ever worn something that’s not 100% in your comfort zone, your mind says everyone is staring at you and seeing only the same imperfections you do.  It says this is a mistake and you look gross. It says hide. 

So I wore shorts yesterday, and you know what? My mind was wrong. I don’t think anyone saw anything but a woman walking through the grocery store with her baby. I will admit it took me really trying and fighting the urge to throw on jeans a few times throughout the day, but I made it through. I wore shorts. 

I’ve decided that though my body isn’t where I want to get eventually, there’s no reason I can’t celebrate where I’m at and find new love in each phase of the process. I feel brave now for muscling through. 

Your day may have been filled with bigger challenges, but for this mom of three who is fighting hard to love my body now, this was a huge victory in my mind and heart.

I can wear shorts. I can wear shorts! I can wear shorts! And you can too! What’s that thing that makes you scared? Do it. Let go of fear and know you deserve to be brave today. 

Drop Your Net

Tags

faith, Jesus calling, letting go, open hand, trusting God

I was driving and praying about a lot of things this week. My babies going back to school has given me lots of time for this. One thing I’ve prayed for is strength to be obedient and disciplined in following God’s calling. As I was driving and praying about this, I thought about this:

“While walking by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon (who is called Peter) and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. And he said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.’ Immediately they left their nets and followed him.” – Matthew 4:18-20

These men had been trained for years to do this one thing their whole lives. They woke up every day to fish, and knew that’s what they would do until the day they died. This is what they knew. This is what they were comfortable in. In a split second Jesus called and they left all they had ever known to follow Him. They didn’t question. They didn’t hesitate. They just dropped their nets. 

That’s the part that really got me. The nets. Nets serve one purpose- to capture, to snare, to trap. Christ gives us all callings, but how many of us drop our nets and go instead of holding onto what we know? When we hear His voice, do we make excuses to stay where we are instead of dropping it and going? 

Stepping into the calling of pursuing Graduate school after moving across the country again while raising three kids does not seem like the best timing decision. I was actually on the phone with my cousin this week and made that joke. Then I realized that was an excuse to hold  my net that would have trapped me into ignoring God’s call. That made me so thankful for the confidence God gave me when I began thinking about what He had for me in light of my gifts and where He would call me to serve. 

How often do we do this? How often to we hold on to what we know or what we like or what we love or what is familiar and ignore God’s call? This doesn’t even have to be with things that we know aren’t good. This can be with things that are great. We can hold so tightly to our net that we are so comfortable with that when God challenges us to let go and follow Him, we can’t and won’t. 

This can even be with behavior. You can be a worrisome person. You look for things to worry about or immediately think of the worst possible outcome in any situation. That’s a place where it’s easy to see a  tendency to become snared. There are others places that it’s so much harder to see. How we follow the Lord. Why we love Him. Do we follow Him because we love Him or do we ignore in the places that don’t give us what we want or justify what pleases us right now? Do we really love God or His “stuff?”

There are so many nets out there to be trapped in that when God teaches us His truth through His word or through someone who shares His truth with us, we have to be willing to let those things go to follow Him. If you love Him you will follow Him. If you aren’t willing to let go of that thing, He is not your greatest treasure and you don’t really love Him. 

If God calls you out of something, He is calling you to something higher. Marriage is a great example of this. If you have married someone, God is calling you into the role of husband or wife. Your willingness or unwillingness to step into that says so much about how you love the Lord. If Jesus says, “Follow me,” He knows where He’s taking you. You can trust that more than what you’re holding. 

You can trust Him more than the anger or frustration you feel. You can trust Him more than the greatest joy you’ve ever known. Your feelings are not a place to trust or act from. They are constantly changing, but God is constantly unchanging and we can lean and depend on His steadfastness. You can trust His heart for you. 

I hope to remember this in the days ahead. I hope to never hold onto a thing I know isn’t good or to hold onto something that is a blessing so hard that when Jesus calls, I ignore Him to have what I want. I hope to always want Him most. 

Out Loud

Tags

Developmental delay, expressive language delay, Language delay, prayer, praying out loud

Saying it’s been a hectic month doesn’t seem intense enough a statement for what life has looked like, but saying things are going good doesn’t seem like a positive enough one either. 

As we get settled after moving back across the country, I’m thinking back over the last week, and my heart is still rejoicing over one moment in particular that shifted my vision and reminded me of God’s heart. 

I was driving to pick my niece up from the airport, and I was praying out loud. I remember our pastor Bob encouraging us to do that. He talked about the freedom and the power in just saying and hearing your heart pour out to the Lord. I’ll admit, it felt super awkward at first, but now it feels like freedom. I find myself being more honest out loud. There’s something in that where being willing to get over the first awkward part really frees you up to be honest in ways you may not know you need to be. 

As I was praying, I prayed about the kid’s new schools. I prayed for loving teachers who will “get” them and help them. I also thanked God for the miracle that is their continued progress and asked for more. I prayed and talked about the hurt in my heart for not hearing their voices or knowing what they need or think all the time because they can’t just always tell me. I told God how hard it was and how I longed to hear them. 

Then I still, small voice whispered to my heart, “I know what it means to long to hear from your children.” That went off like a bomb in my heart and mind. It was the voice that said I know your hurt. It was the voice that said you aren’t alone in this. It was the voice that said I can heal this hurt because I know it. It was the voice that invited me into more time and depth with my Abba Father. 

This revelation has given me renewed hope in this struggle. He’s there, listening, caring, and responding when I call out. He’s there for you too. In all of this struggle, I have to always remember that as an heir and daughter of God the most important thing I can do is sit with Him, be honest with Him, and trust His father heart. 

I’m thankful for this moment that affirmed so much for me, and I’m thankful for all that God has done to show me He loves me.