My Weary World…

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Anxiety, Christian, Christian Women, courage, Family, Fear, God's love, Healing, hope, hope in Christ, hurt, identity in Christ, love, motherhood, oh holy night, parenthood, Parenting, prayer, the gospel, trials, unconditional love, weariness, Women

Oh Holy Night is one of my favorite Christmas hymns. I love the melody, the lyrics, and the way it cuts right through me and into the places that need to be reminded.

I feel so connected with this song and to God when I raise my voice to sing it. As the words fill my ears and heart, I’m reminded of what a wonderful birth did for me.

I’m also reminded of one phrase I wish I cherished more. On Christmas there was born a Savior, and “…a new and glorious morn.” The morning breaks the dark sky with light. Darkness is dispelled and conquered by a magnificent, colorful sky. In the same way, Jesus broke all my darkness with the light of hope, but I am not always mindful that is true everyday.

In times of anxiety, in times of restlessness, in times of sickness, in times of acclaim, in times of triumph, EVERY DAY IS A NEW AND GLORIOUS MORN!

I forget that. I forget that when I’m so tired I don’t want to get out of bed. In this long season of sickness I’ve been fighting through, I forget that each day is an opportunity to fall on my knees in my weariness and rejoice. In all things. Through all things, my Savior was born in a stable, died on a tree, and is alive at the right hand of God. He is praying for me.

He knows the hairs on my head so even in every affliction, my preciousness to Him is not lost. In suffering, He knows my name and intercedes for me. When I stumble and end up scraped in bloody fight to get on my feet again, He is singing over me and rejoicing in the fact that I am His.

He has promised to make something beautiful on the other side of the refining fire for my good and His glory.

In my weary world, I can remember that in this focused season of remembering the start of Christ coming to save me, He came knowing what I would be up against. He came knowing how far He would go to defeat it, and He did. In the moments that I feel like His face has turned from me, I am wrong. He endured that so I’d never have to. He is there. He is waiting. He loves me.

I pray that I would have eyes to see that the morning we will celebrate tomorrow is the first that changed everything. With it came “The thrill of hope…” and that hope is mine- in all things, at all times because of that blessed holy night.

Sorrows

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affirmation, Anxiety, biblical truth, Christian, Christian Values, Christian Women, Death Grief, faith, Family, God's grace, God's love, God's truth, grace, gratitude, grief, Healing, hope, hope in Christ, hurt, identity in Christ, love, miscarriage, prayer, pregnancy, the gospel, tragedy, trials, trusting God, truth, unconditional love, Women

Today I’ve been listening to a song over and over. I woke up with it in my heart not knowing God was preparing a balm I would need.

“In all my sorrows, Jesus is better. Make my life believe…”

This is something I didn’t know would be necessary for today. In the heaviness in knowing people you love are suffering, it’s hard to see the truth over the situation beyond the devastation in it.

It has been a devastating day. I have sat frozen, unable to know what to do or think. Then the melody fills that empty seeming space…

He’s better. He is our hope. Today, He’s having to make my heart believe, but He has gone before. He prepared the way. He knew this grief and suffering, and He made a way for Him to be our eternal comfort. He isn’t angry at our needing to be comforted. He is standing by- ready to remind, to restore, to heal, and in that, my heart can believe.

Truly, in Him the anthem is “Glory, glory…” In Him there is something to be eternally grateful for- even if we have to wait until then to hold that and be wrapped up in it for a never-ending love and celebration.

Today, though my heart is better, Jesus is better and bigger, and in that, my soul can rest.

My Hymns

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Healing, hymns, inspiration, love, music, Ryman Auditorium, Switchfoot

I love hymns. I grew up singing them in church. There’s something incredibly authentic about hymns that speaks to a place in me that stirs and mends and moves me.

I have the very unpopular opinion that most Christian music today doesn’t connect with me the same way. There’s a depth that’s missing sometimes. There’s pretty music, and rhyming words- sometimes that’s it though. That’s all I can see in it. Nothing speaks to those places the way weighted and sincere words do.

I love hymn stories. Seriously, if you’ve never looked up the story behind your favorite hymns, do it. They are filled with suffering and loss and pain, but a clinging to Jesus in those times that wrecks me. In our culture today those things make us throw up our hands and walk away. These writers pressed even harder into Christ. They loved and trusted Him so much that searing pain could be well with their souls.

This weekend my husband and I saw Switchfoot play at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. It is a storied place that was a real stunner. Gorgeous. Amazing sound. It was a bucket list moment for us.

As I sang the words to every song in their set, I realized that I’ve been singing their songs for half my life. I realized the depth in them. I realized what they have done for me. When I was broken, they dared me to pick myself up. They reminded me of the strength in surrender. They sang over me that love is worth fighting for. They inspired me to live my life well. That in our darkest moments, there’s still sunshine.

These songs may never be bound in a hymnal, but I realized that in lyric in melody, they have connected with me in a deep, deep place. These songs have been used to minister to my heart. I’m thankful for the tension and meaning I’m every word. I’m thankful for this new generation of hymns.

Surgery

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Christmas, Fear, Friendship, Healing, love, marriage, motherhood, Parenting, prayer, self care, sickness, stress, surgery, trusting God, unconditional love

Well, it’s been no secret that we’ve been on the health struggle bus since we moved here. I’ve spent a lot more time worried about my husband and babies than myself, but that finally caught up with me. After my 10th positive strep test this year and many weeks of waiting, I finally got into an ENT.

He dug around and found necrotic tissue in my tonsils. Not good. He found swelling that was very bad. Before the exam he asked if I had bigger concerns about the sinus stuff or my tonsils. After the exam he asked me when I’d like to get them out. Essentially our discussion of options became option-less. “This is what we have to do!” became the tone of the conversation.

He was kind and patient when answering my questions. He’s hopeful that removing my festering tonsils will help that sinus pressure/infections and other problems. We finished our visit, and I was sent right to the scheduler. My surgery is scheduled for next month.

What does this mean? 10-14 days in bed where I will be able to do little other than pain management work and getting as much sleep as I can. What does this mean for my family?

1. I’m thankful that Rob’s workplace is filled with people who care about each person in my family. He will be able to work and help take care of all of us. I can’t express what that means or how thankful I am that we made the move for him to work with such incredible people. I’m working on a big article for a magazine so my timeline just got pushed way up. I am so thankful my boss is working with me on this. We now have editing scheduled during my recovery.

2. I was supposed to help host our gospel community next month, but now I can’t. If you know how much I love to host, you know I was really so upset to have to share that news. The second I told everyone, people began pulling out their phones and making a meal train, and putting MY surgery on THEIR calendars. We have longed for this ability to connect with the body for so long. I’m beyond grateful for that moment.

3. One of my best friends offered to figure out flying in or out of here if she could make it work without me even asking. My sister immediately volunteered to come stay the weekends to give Rob a break and help. My parents volunteered to come for the surgery day and for a few days to help Rob. A sweet friend even volunteered to just come watch TV with me so I wouldn’t be alone. More friends promised to step in and do whatever we needed- all because they love us.

4. Now a not so pleasant one: I have to stop breastfeeding. I never thought I’d do that longer than a year, but things have been so easy this go ’round, and Joshua has been so committed. Seriously, he loves to breastfeed still. I thought I was so ready to be done, but I already see how it’s frustrating him. I know my body can’t be responsible for such work post surgery, but this one has been tough on my heart.

This is surely going to be trying for all of us. If you think about our family next month, please pray that this procedure goes well, brings healing and restored health, and that the recovery is light on everyone. I hope my babies understand why I can’t be with them. I hope they get along and have so much fun with their daddy. I have every reason to hope this will all go well.

My mind is stressed trying to get all the ducks in a row- one more birthday party, getting Christmas decorations up, getting shopping squared away, and trying to prep as much as I can. I’m a planner. I like to know what’s in front of me. This is surely messing up an already busy time of year, but I’m trying, really trying, to set us up for this to go as well as possible all while remembering to breathe.

As my brain works triple overtime, pray for peace for all of us on the road to surgery and after. It’s going to be hard, but as I am learning, trusting God with my eternity means trusting Him with all of our today’s. For surgery day and after, I am choosing to set my mind and heart in trusting Him to care for all of us. He’s already showing up.