the journey… 3 years in

Humidity hung in the air like a wet towel, heavy and drenched and draped over the clothesline of a sparkling jewel-blue August sky. It was the kind of day that makes your skin long for cool water and a swift breeze. An entire afternoon of blazing sunshine belonged to just me and my sweetheart, and we were on a quest to "get away."

We decided to take a walk and do a little exploring in unfamiliar territory. The sign read "state park" in the dead of summer, but the parking area and adjoining paths were bare as bones.




As we walked, the solid, cool path beneath our feet became lopsided sand, while our sweet conversation and casual gazing at the blanket of shading trees overhead gave way to silent and determined focus. Not only had our firm trail become shifting sand, it had become steep, difficult to traverse, and fully exposed to the heat of the noonday sun.








For quite some time, we hiked. With the heat threatening to smother our desperate lungs and sand plastered to our moist skin, we hiked. And suddenly, as we came over a particularly treacherous hill, we caught an unforeseen glimpse of total and complete heaven.




We had no idea of the beauty that our laborious path was leading us to. All at once we were re-energized and couldn’t move fast enough towards that water. And after a few more dune climbs...



…we were there.

It was glorious.




I could have stayed there for eons. And the heat and unexpected sweat of the journey there made it all the more sweet.

... ... ... ...

Today, I celebrate three years of marriage to my best friend.

I can’t help but think about how our hiking adventure that day so closely resembles how it feels to journey through life with the most incredible man in the world. Many days, the path is less stable and remarkably steeper than we expected, but in God’s goodness, we come over each precipice to see His hand at work in our lives: our son; our calling; God’s always-timely provision. And for a moment, we are propelled forward, catching glimpses of the purpose before us, stealing us away into our dreams for the future.

I love loving you, Jason.

I could stay here for eons. And the heat and unexpected sweat of our journey makes it all the more sweet.

teething and prayer

You’d think I’d have the wailing figured out by now. It’s been, what? 8 months already? And he’s been teething for, like, 12 of them. So why is it that I *freak out* every time Jackson is teething? Perhaps it’s because I can’t see what’s going on, and I’m just certain that the discomfort is more than teething and we need to rush him to the urgent care center in case he has some triple-top-secret ailment we aren’t able to see but just KNOW is there behind the flooding tears and wracking sleeplessness.

And then… *POP*

Tooth.

…Inevitably followed by, "Oooooooooh. So THAAAAAT’s why you were shrieking your head off and wouldn’t eat or sleep or chill out for the last three days."

Jackson got teeth #s 5 and 6 this week, and the night before they appeared, you would have thought his brain was exploding. It was unbelievable, the crying. (And Jackson was pretty upset too. Kidding.)


This first time mommy thing has me all jacked up. I HATE not knowing what’s going on. I hate not being able to solve a problem, and I hate not having an answer. I spend so much energy trying to figure out what the issue is and how to fix it, and lo and behold, *pop* goes a tooth, or the diaper was dirty, or the bottle was too cold, or nap time came early- whatever. Something simple. It’s always something simple.

It’s really exposed my tendency to panic and find my own answers. I do that in my spiritual life, too, sometimes. Something rattles me, so I start problem solving, because I can’t see the outcome and I need peace. And then I pray. But in those moments, I’ve got it backwards. Doing what I can do, and THEN talking to God about it is all wrong. Don’t worry- logically, I know that. But there are times that I do it anyway. It’s that "I have to find an answer" thing.

I like plans. I like answers and clear skies ahead of me. I have been known to read the spoilers to my favorite TV shows, or read the last page of a mysterious book first, (I know. I know!) simply because I can’t stand the anxiety of uncertainty. So when uncertainty beyond my control swells into my world like an invisible tooth erupting & screaming under the surface, I panic. I determine every logical solution for every logical (and illogical) scenario, and I start crafting a plan.

I’m not very good at teething.

I’m determined to give up on this "I have to find an answer" thing, and to focus more on finding God in the process- in the middle of the unknown, in the crying, and the discomfort. Heck, I might even stop reading TV spoilers and the end of books first. Logic is good. But prayer is so much better.

So, am I the only one who freaks out with uncertainty?

Blocked

I love the book of Hosea. Love it. It reminds me that I’m human, that God is God, and that because of those realities, He is just and merciful, and will never stop pursuing me. I’ve spent most of my life in church (second pew, piano side at that). I went to Sunday School, I went to Youth Group, and I even went to a Christian college. But really, it’s nothing to brag about.

I didn’t really learn who God was until I was blocked.

I’m not talking “annoying person on Facebook” kind of blocked. But stuck behind a wall of thornbushes and completely unable to find my way blocked (like in Hosea 2:6).

On the outside, all was well. I was 24 and I was going to get married and move across the country and go to graduate school and get my Ph.D. And then, it happened. I ran headfirst into a sharp, piercing thicket that would capture my lofty plans in one tangled swoop and penetrate my soul and threaten to leave me scarred for eternity.

By the time I made it out of that thicket, my plans were gone. And so was my desire for them. Things had changed drastically, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t have a plan. I was waiting. I’m not the best at waiting… (Remember how worked up I get when waiting messes up my plans?)

This was kind of my wilderness, I suppose. I had been tied up in the thicket, and then led out into the wilderness to have a heart to heart with Jesus (Hosea 2:14). We had a few things to iron out, and the first was that He loves me, always. No matter what. The second was that He has a great plan for my life, and that plan is irrevocable (Romans 11:29). And then He told me to wait. And it was in that waiting that I started to really understand who God was. It was in the waiting that I came to see hope in my “valley of trouble” (Hosea 2:15), and where my relationship with God shifted, matured (v. 16).

So if you’re blocked, tied up in a nasty thicket, consider where it was you were headed that God might be sparing you from. Go ahead and follow Him into the wilderness and have a heart to heart… and wait.

Resurfacing...

It's been a while...

We've had a few things going on lately...

It's an awesome thing, watching your dreams come true...

I've found that I am on a journey that has changed me more than I ever could have imagined.

And the company's not bad either...

I can't believe it was just one year ago today that we discovered our little miracle was on his way. We are truly thankful.

A couple baby-weight pounds added, a few winks of sleep fewer, hearts enlarged and amazed, and we're gradually resurfacing & growing accustomed to life with our new treasure.

More to come soon...

new creation

Look what I saw yesterday... I wait for this all winter.

God is always faithful to bring new life. May we never forget, even in the harshest of life's "winters."

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! 2 Corinthians 5:17

Happy Easter, friends.

Lady's Lizard... (from the Archives)

Journeying through Holy Week, I was brought back to these thoughts I wrote many months ago.



Today would probably have to qualify as one of the most beautiful days of the year. Taking full advantage of the clear skies, light breeze, and radiant sunshine, I was outside walking and playing fetch with Lady, my puppy. There is a large grassy area with a big hill right behind where I live, and it is one of Lady’s favorite spots to run and play. Several days ago, Lady found a dried up dead lizard in her "play yard," and proudly brought it to me clenched in her tiny jaws. Disgusted, I made her drop it and took her to another part of the hill to play. The next day as we were out walking, Lady found her lizard friend again, and smugly brought it once more to my feet. Still grossed out at this stiff, desiccated reptile, I once again let out an "Eeeewww!" and we promptly retreated to another part of the field, leaving behind her dead and shriveled friend.

Well, Lady is a persistent little girl. She is 5 pounds of pure energy and determination. So, of course, when we went out to play today (hundreds of yards from the last spotting of her reptile friend, mind you), Lady once again made her way to her lizard. Shocked that she found this one tiny little lizard in the midst of the huge field, all I could think was "For the love of God, how do you keep finding this guy?!"

As gross as that lizard is to me, I got to thinking that for Lady, it is just in her nature to hunt and sniff out things like that. That is what she will always do. It is her instinct to sniff out and track down things that are dead, that are dirty, and she will for the rest of her life bring those dead and dirty things to my feet in pride.

Perhaps each of us could learn a lesson from Miss Lady. As Christians, isn’t it supposed to be a part of our nature to go seeking out the spiritually dead and wounded? It is far too often that we stumble upon people who desperately need the forgiveness and love of Christ, and instead of proudly taking them to the feet of God, we grimace and cry out a prideful "Eeeewww!" as we leave their desperate and withered souls in the dust.

Even around such holidays as Easter, THE resurrection celebration, how quickly we forget that God is in the business of bringing life into dead things. May we always take the dried up and dead, the wounded and missing, to His feet.

He Knows

The nursery for our little one has finally moved into the stage of being ready for assembly and decoration. The closet has been cleaned out, the office furniture relocated, the walls have been primed and painted a beautiful shade of barely there turquoise-blue, the light fixture changed, and the drop cloths removed. Before my very eyes, this room has become THE room. The nursery. The sanctuary where my precious little one will be sleeping and napping and playing and crying out for mama. Each time I stand in the doorway of that near empty nursery, it takes my breath away.

Sweet Jesus, how is it that tears of joy come with such freedom at the thought of this miracle who I don’t even know yet? How is it that there is such profound love swelling inside of my heart with each passing day as I anticipate his arrival? How will I ever be able to contain my love for him when I finally meet him face to face?

And then it occurs to me: Lord, you already KNOW him. (Lucky you).

If I love him so much, even before knowing his face, how much more must our Creator love and adore this tiny miracle growing inside me? He already knows him. He has already assigned his future and his purpose.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

For 14 more weeks, I will wait to meet my son. But Jesus already knows him well.

Psalm 139
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

15 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,

16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.