God's Pursuit of Me
To have found God and still to pursue Him is the soul's paradox of love. - A.W. Tozer
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Dear Control: You Have Never Really Belonged To Me
It is possible that the experiences of the past several years of my life have been occurring primarily to lead me to one conclusion – to point me to one truth. I’m not in control. (I don’t think I ever really thought I was. But I have been infatuated with pretending as if I was.) It’s like this is the conversation that has been happening above, around, near me for a few years . . . You like the way your parents make you feel secure? You have a growing reliance on your mom and her role in your life? Got that all figured out – how that should look…
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Virtual
I never really thought you could develop community without meeting someone in person. I didn’t think you could share your life with people virtually. I was wrong. It’s never a replacement for living life with the real people surrounding me, but I have been amazed and honored to begin experiencing a taste of online community through reading and commenting and virtual “meeting” of several women through their raw, tender and beautiful blogs. One blog I stumbled upon one evening last fall brought me to tears. I stayed up late crying while reading Sarah Markley’s incredible story of redemption and grace. And then I did something I rarely do – I…
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Receiving Good Gifts: Part II
Rain. It’s not that I really mind it. But some days, when I have to run errands in it, tote kids in and out of cars in it and drive sloshing around town in it, well . . . I like it a little less then. And some days, when I am already on a slope down, sitting on that edge, I think I let the rain just come right on inside and settle on my soul. I had one such day like that recently. Fox had a doctor’s appointment – just a routine well-child visit. But we have been struggling with locating a family doctor that we love, like,…
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I’ve Been There
I saw a woman at the children’s museum we visited this week. She had five children with her – just like me. And her kids were a lot like mine . . . kind, funny, rowdy, polite, unruly, curious, speedy. Just like any number of small people that we know. I was sitting on a bench feeding Fox his lunch and I was watching this family. They were preparing to leave the museum, but this mother of five wanted one little group photo before they left. She lined them all up, posed them properly. (Anyone who has photographed children in groups knows what a daunting task that can be.) They…
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The Edge
(This is not a post about U2. Sorry Jane.) I think I live on some precarious edge. Like – right next to a cliff. (You know, like the little old man in Up who wanted to plop his home right down beside the ravine, the waterfall, the danger?) I live there. Or at least, I have been camping there for far too long. And the view is alright, I guess, but the effort and the stress of living right on that edge is wearing me down. And another thing. Because I live so close to that edge I find it really hard to maintain stability. To find a firm footing.…
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Truth Never Changes
Rearranging is fun. When I rearrange I always seem to find some old treasure. Recently it was a book. Oswald Chambers My Utmost For His Highest. One of those classics that you just keep going back to because it always seems to be relevant. (Even though its original publication date was 1935.) The pages of my copy are crumpled, like I spilled something on it. Dozens of corners are turned down. Magic marker, pen, pencil are scrawled on nearly every page. It’s so old my maiden name is written on the cover in bubbly high school penmanship. (It was a gift from my church when I graduated. From high…
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Purpose
I like to be happy. I don’t like tears. Or trouble. Or heartache. Or sin. Or putting away laundry. I don’t care for difficult circumstances. Hardship. Strain. Damaged relationships. Dirty houses. Dust. I like peace. Tidiness. Sleeping in. Harmony. Recently at my Bible study our group was talking about the sin of unthankfulness. And how we can be so ungrateful for what we have, for what we have been spared. For where we were born. For grace. All of it. Which started a side conversation about being thankful in all circumstances. Seeing the good that God can work from the bad. Embracing the situation for the shaping powers it possesses,…
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the post about bees
Bees are divine. I mean – lots of things are. Right? gravity. love. music. banana pudding. molecules. But I’m talking about bees. (I told you I would eventually talk about this.) For Kevin’s recent-ish birthday I gave him The Gift That Keeps On Giving. Twenty-thousand bees. (Give or take a few hundred.) He’s talked about wanting to raise bees for years. Well, actually, he’s talked about wanting to walk amongst swarms of bees without any protection and take the stings like a man. Like a foolish man. Like a foolish, unprotected man. Like a foolish, unprotected man placing himself directly in harm’s way. So I did what any loving wife…
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Saints and Sinners
On a ride in the Suburban recently, the kids and I had a pretty heavy theological discussion. “How do we know who goes to heaven and who goes to hell?” one of my deep thinkers asked. “Well,” I started. Like I usually do. A stalling method I think I have perfected but which I know will have a short shelf life. And Bergen jumps in – “I know that. Good people go to heaven and bad people go to hell.” “Well,” I paused again. “That is not exactly true son. Are you a good person?” He nodded his head yes. “Do you ever do bad things?” I probed. Bergen said,…
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The Next Thing
Today I woke up feeling . . . defeated. Like the battle was over and I had already lost. I read this quote once that Elisabeth Elliot (our Mosely Elliot’s namesake) had once said to her daughter. I read it probably ten years ago. Maybe more. But I still think about it nearly every day of my life. Especially on days when I just need to manage. To make it to the next day. Or the next afternoon. Or the next hour. Or whenever. She said, “Don’t think about everything you need to do. Just do the next thing.”
Keep Reading . . .
and there’s a video
Should I Stop Homeschooling?
These Is My Words: A Book Review
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I’m Sorry
After a kid infraction of most any variety, we require an apology from the offender. (A real apology. Not a mumbled-under-your-breath-just-because-Mommy-made-me-do-this sort of apology.) Someone is always apologizing for something at our house. Recently, after one such incident, followed by a mostly sincerely apology, the offended party refused to be consoled. “‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t change anything!” the still wounded child shouted. But I think maybe she was wrong. I think it changes a lot. When one of my darling offspring spills a drink for the seventeenth time that morning and actually speaks the words, “I’m sorry Mommy for spilling that drink. May I help you clean it up?” something is…
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So Every Day
Life is so . . . full. Full of the type of moments that make this blog. Full of the moments when I reach for the camera to capture that funny face. Full of the times when I say to one of my children, “Say that again for Daddy” and record their quirky words on my fun phone and send it right over to Kevin. Full of the moments when I text my friends about something hilarious the kids have done or some criminal act the dog has committed. And life is also so full of the stinky moments. And the even worse than stinky times. The moments that sometimes…
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Thanks, Piper
Not too many days ago I was instructing my determined (read: stubborn) youngest daughter. She did not care for my instructions. I don’t actually remember what I was asking the spirited (read: strong willed) two year old to do or to stop doing, but I do distinctly remember her response. Piper Finnian said, “I don’t like you.” And she spoke clearly. Very clearly. (She’s a pretty good communicator. Maybe a little too good.) I was really embarrassed. Really embarrassed. Because I wasn’t at my own house. The words were not spoken where only I had the displeasure of hearing. Nope. It never works that way – does it? At that…
