Writing

Last night, my son and I were playing on his Magnadoodle.

"Draw a cement truck, momma!" As quickly as my pen finished the final detail, swoosh, my preschooler had erased what I'd created.

"Now draw a tow tuck!" Draw, swoosh, erase. "Now make all the stars." Draw, swoosh, erase. "And a heart for how much you love me." Draw, swoosh, erase. "And now letters..." Draw, swoosh, erase.

As I grew mildly frustrated by how quickly he swooshed away my creations, this hit me: Life is constantly hitting us with words, constantly bombarding us with messages about ourselves and about the world around us. Sometimes those words are written on a Magnadoodle; they present themselves for a fleeting moment and then, swoosh, are wiped away without a second thought. Sometimes those words have a bit longer presence, perhaps like pencil on paper; they aren't wiped away with a simple slide of the hand, but with the handy work of a rubber eraser, they too can be rubbed out. Yet other words feel more permanent, like words chiseled into stone. Try as you might, no amount of rubbing or swiping or pounding or paint will cover up what's carved so deeply.

Sometimes, have messages engraved that deeply is a gift. When those messages speak of how dearly loved we are, how valuable we are, and how much purpose we posses, those chiseled words act as a breastplate protecting from the attacks of shallow lies that threaten our identity. However, when those messages are reversed, the protective breastplate turns into a drowning millstones. When, because of abuse or other traumas, we identify etch into our identity stones lies of insufficiency, disdain, and hatred, we struggle to believe any other words spoken, even those written in the Bible.

I challenge you to take a few moments and see what's etched in the stone of your heart. Are these words uplifting truths, the names that God calls you? Or are they debilitating taunts that pull you down no matter how good life gets? If it's the later, find someone you trust: a friend, church leader, or professional counselor, and share the ugly marks that have been written on your heart. Find someone who will commit to helping you sand and chip and pound away what's sat so long. While I promise that it'll be a lot of work, I also promise that those words, as deeply embedded as they are, don't have to be permanent. God's greater, and through His truth and the loving community that He's placed in your life (even if that community is hard to find), is possible to write a new story, even when it's been etched in stone.

Anticipate the mess

Lately, one of my three year old's favorite things to do is make cookies together. He's getting pretty good at measuring and leveling ingredients; this week I even let him crack an egg! Despite his best efforts, a good third of the ingredients fall out on the counter between scooping them out of their container and into the bowl. No worries! I've learned to anticipate the mess. You see, while making cookies with him makes the process so much slower and SO much messier, the quality time and sense of accomplishment that he has afterward more than makes up for the inconvenience. I treasure our time together and jump at the opportunity to build into our relationship, even if it means scrubbing counters and floors (and occasionally the dog when he gets under foot).

I wonder if that's how God feels about us sometimes. "Those silly humans! They're so slow to catch on to My directing, and boy they're great at making a mess of things! But I simply love them enough to patiently guide them through the mess. My heart longs for relationship with them that I'll invest My very self into their lives; I'll muddle through the mess to draw them closer to Myself."

I'm so grateful for that level of love!

Snowy Progress

Yesterday, we woke up to a dumping of snow. The brilliant while coated everything! Knowing I had plans with a friend in a few hours, I dutifully went out to shovel the driveway. From inside, it looked like we'd only gotten a few inches, so surely I could tackle this task in an hour, easy. When I got outside and realized the snow was actually up to my ankles. No worries, I got this!

I started rhythmically shoveling: scoop, dump, scoop, dump, scoop, dump. Whew! As my arms started to tire, I stopped to look at my progress; I'd been working hard, yet I'd hardly made a dent in clearing the snow! Okay, back at it: scoop, dump, scoop, dump.

Aw man, the snowplow just filled the end of the drive with slush and ice. I'll get to that in a minute; stay focused on the area I've started. Scoop, dump, scoop, dump.

Hold up, where did my toddler just run off to? Oh he's playing in the front yard? I guess I'll start on the section down there. Scoop, dump.

Alright, we've been out here a good hour; we have to be almost done, right? Nope, definitely only halfway done. Maybe only a third. Scoop, dump.

And the sky is dumping a fresh layer of snow where I've already shoveled. No matter; keep at it. Scoop, dump.
Ope! The mail lady is coming; quick make a path for her! Scoop, dump, scoop, dump.

Okay, kiddo's getting cold; time to take a break and get him situated inside with his dad. Okay, break's over, back at it. Scoop, dump.

Hmm, there's only this little portion left and the icy mess from the snowplow to finish; I'll make a game out of it and see if I can finish the rest in 20 shovelfuls, easy peasy! Except now I've been at this for two hours, and my shoulders and back and arms are starting to ache. I can't take quite as big of a load, and I lose half of it trying to propel it over the fence. 11, 12, 13 scoops. Okay, maybe I can't clear the rest in 20 loads, but I definitely can clear this last few feet here. Scoop, dump. 18, 19, 20. Yeah, with the wind and drifts, this section is definitely deeper than I thought! Okay, how many more scoops? 28, 29, 30! 38, 39, 40!

Whew! It's mostly clear! I just have to do that little bit from the snowplow and I'm done. That's an easy 5, 10 scoops top! I got this! Scoop, crunch! Except this isn't the fluffy snow of the rest, this is ice! This plastic shovel can't crack it; time to switch to the metal one. Except this one's way heavier, and so is the ice! And I've grown tired, so I can only move small loads. Chisel, chisel, scoop, dump. Chisel, chisel, scoop, dump. 5, 6, 7 scoops. 8, 9, 10 more. And it's only half cleared. Seriously? Am I ever going to finish this? Maybe I can leave this last little bit and plow through. No no, it's not worth getting stuck, finish the job. Chisel, chisel, dump. 18, 19, 20 scoops! Finally, I'm done!

Sometimes I feel like reaching my goals is like shoveling snow: the achiever in me looks at the task at hand and thinks, "I got this! It'll be a quick accomplishment!" And then I start working on the goal, and realizing it's way deeper than I anticipated. Or someone comes and, trying to help, actually makes the situation worse and sets me back 10 steps. Or I have to pause my progress to tend to the needs of my family or a friend. Or something completely out of my control hits, erasing my progress. Or I have to take a break to allow myself to rest, even when it feels like doing so is a setback. Suddenly, what I thought would be a quick and easy goal turns into something that seems impossible to complete! Sometimes I've worked so hard and feel like I have so little to show for it.

Maybe you're feeling that way too. Maybe you're on the verge of giving up on something that's becoming so disheartening. I encourage you to stop for a moment, look up and survey the progress that you've made. Yes, you're not where you started, but you are progressing. There's a clear spot that wasn't there before. Maybe there's a clear path where there was once dysfunctional coping skills or hurtful relationships. Stop and observe the new paths you've created; reflected on the muscles (physical, mental, emotional, spiritual) that have strengthened in the journey. You may not be where you hoped you'd be, your hope may not yet be achieved, but dear one, you're getting there! Take care of yourself, rest and tend to your needs, reflect on how far you've come, and when you're ready, get back out there. Scoop, dump.

Adoption

 If you ever want to realize how little control you have adopt, and further, adopt internationally! After being in the process for 2 years, we FINALLY have a referral! We FINALLY know our kiddo's name, have seen her face, know her history, personality, likes and dislikes. Already we love and adore her, our beautiful daughter! And yet...

And yet she doesn't even know what we exist. She doesn't know there's a family who's worked so hard and moved what feels like Heaven and Earth to bring her home, a family who anxiously and joyfully awaits for when we finally get to bring her home! While we feel so well acquainted with this precious child, she knows nothing of us.

And so often is our relationship with God. Long before we knew of God's very existence, He knew everything about us, down to the hairs on our head. And more than simply knowing us, He loves and adores us! And He moved literal Heaven and Earth to bring us into His family by sending Jesus to redeem us and bring us into His family. How amazing is it to be adopted by the eternal, glorious God?!?
For He chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world that we should be holy and blameless before Him in love. He did this by predestining us to adoption as His legal heirs through Jesus Christ, according to the pleasure of His will. Ephesians 1:4-5

But when the set time had fully come, God sent His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. Beacuase you are His sons, God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls our, "Abba, Father". Galatians 4:4-6

Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Luke 12:7

Fear

Like most preschoolers, my son has an evening routine that brings him comfort and security as he drifts into sleep: a book, prayers, and hug from momma or daddy, his nightlight on, a special teddy bear snuggled tight, and his blankets wrapped snug as a bug in a rug. With daddy out of town a few days ago, we decided to throw routine to the wind and engage in a special sleepover in momma's room. As my son's breathing slowed, indicating that he'd given into sleep, I realized something: he didn't have any of his usual comforts. He was suddenly okay with the dark room, he no longer needed the security of tightly wrapped covers or a snuggly friend. Why? Because he was comforted by something greater. He slept soundly knowing his momma was right there beside him.

I think God calls us to the same rest in His presence. We fool ourselves into thinking we can find peace and comfort through temporary things: if only I secure this relationship, I'll be at rest. Surely another drink or a higher dose or another snack will give me the peace that eludes. If only I can achieve all of the things and prove myself, I'll find true security. We turn to idols while God gently calls, "Come to me, all who are weary, and I'll give you rest. Surrender to Me, and let me be your peace. Fear not, for I am with you; I hold you in my righteous right hand."

So do not fear, for I am with you; don't be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

Come to me, all who are weary and heavy burdened, am I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn  from Me, for I am gentle and humble, and you will find rest for your souls. Matthew 11:28-29

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid. John 14:27

Tools

On the latest addition of learning from my preschooler: tools.

For whatever reason, my preschooler LOVES to play with our handheld vacuum cleaner. He loves toting around the house sweeping up stray crumbs and dirt and dog hair (which the dog doesn’t appreciate when the hair is still attached to him!). One morning, the sweeper turned toy suddenly stopped working. As much as my son slammed the button, it just won’t suck. No worries! My son knew just what to do! He ran to the basement and returned with his toy hammer. “I’ll fix it, momma!”, he declared and started pounding the pour machine!

It took a good amount of self-control not to laugh at his efforts. My adult brain could easily assess what the problem was; I knew a hammer wasn’t going to fix a dead battery. Yet in his childhood innocence, he was confident that this was the right tool for the job. He’d just learned how to use it to pound plastic nails into his tool bench and had seen daddy use a hammer to fix the panel in the bathroom, so of course it would fix this too!

I wonder how often we approach life’s problems with the tools of a child. Maybe we learned in childhood that the way to get our needs met was to be loud and demanding, so we struggle when our verbal pounding doesn’t get us what we hoped. Or maybe we learned to survive by not having needs at all; maybe the tool we were given is people please; always put others first and they’ll never be mad at us. Except maybe now we’re feeling unfulfilled or unmet because our needs have been ignored for so long. Or maybe we hold the tool of addiction: if we can just get that next fix or have one more drink or go on one more shopping spree, that whole in our heart will be filled. Or maybe it’s the tool of self-protection; if we can just flee from relationship, hurt or cut of them before they hurt us, we’ll be okay.

Today, I challenge you to take inventory of your emotional and spiritual toolbox. What tools in there no longer serve the purpose they once did? What’s no longer beneficial? What once useful hammer is now trying to fill the role of an electric cord? And what are the tools are missing? What are the things that you still need to be successful, happy, and satisfied with yourself, your relationships, your life?

Once you’ve assessed your resources, I encourage you to reach out to your community and share both the tools that you have and those that you’re lacking. Reach out to a trusted friend or family, a pastor, someone in your small group or club, or even to a counselor (I know of a few great ones! =)) and ask for the help that you need. Stop trying to fix a dead battery with a hammer; find someone who can teach you the tools that you need.

He Knows My Name

I recently gifted my preschooler with a Scout dog. For those unfamiliar with the toy, it’s a stuffed animal that you can program with your child’s name and a few of their favorite things. After setting it up, I presented it to my son and watched his eyes and grin widen as he heard the pup speak his name.

“Momma!”, he shouted excitedly. “Momma, the doggy knows my name! He knows it’s me!”

He was amazed that this toy KNEW him! Sure, he has other toys that can say generic phrases, but this one spoke his very NAME!

As I watched my son’s awe and wonder at being called by name, I was struck by the reality that Someone much more important knows his name, and my and your names too! Sweet friend, God sees you and calls you by name. On your loneliest days, you are not hidden from His sight. When you’re struggling with your worth, He calls you beloved, valued, seen. He saw you in your mother’s womb, sees you in your proudest moments, and sees you at your lowest of lows. And He doesn’t simply see you; you aren’t just another member lost in the crowd. He sees you and calls you by name. He sees your pain and heartache and calls you to His loving arms. He sees your confusion and disappointment and calls you to seek His wisdom and hope. He sees the lies that you’re believing and calls you walk in the truth of who He says you are. You are not hidden, not overlooked. God sees you. God calls you by name.

But now, this is what the Lords says- he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summed you by name; you are mine. Isaiah 43:1

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay our hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:1-16