When Crickets Chirp...

If you are one of the few precious people who read this blog, you may have noticed that I’ve been quiet for awhile.  Like… pretty much since before Christmas.  Way too long.  Maybe you've heard the crickets chirping here. :) Sure, I’ve done a few product reviews and those are always fun, but I really haven’t taken the time to express my own thoughts in awhile. 

To be honest, I haven’t really known what to say.  The Lord has had me in this “quiet season” right now.  It’s a season of rediscovering what I know to be true about Him and yet discovering things about Him that I’ve never truly known before.   It’s a season of reshaping my faith and shutting my mouth so that I can really hear His Word and His voice in new ways.  And, it’s a season of stripping… of painful pruning and trust walks, when I can’t see where He’s taking me. 

(a precious 5-year old version of Jesus coming back in the clouds) 

This week marks two years since my sweet husband went to be with Jesus.  Everyone prepared me that the second year post loss would be harder, and boy, were they right.  I’ve been faced with some really difficult trials this year, and been up against some obstacles that I’ve never encountered before and could have never guessed were coming.   Our circle of support has also grown smaller, but I was prepared for that too, thanks to wise words I’ve read from the lovely Kay Warren.  The grief pops up in less expected ways that I'm not as prepared for. Through it all, I’ve had to continually learn more and more to let Jesus be my total sufficiency, and trust Him to provide all that we need in His perfect timing.  That timing, of course, is far different from my own. 

Yet, He has been so so faithful in gently guiding me on this journey and giving me a strength I could never conjure up on my own to endure whatever each day brings.   He has humbled me greatly as I see more and more, that this life has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Him.  He has challenged my faith through the lives of others who have walked this journey before me.  He has brought broken dreams to the spotlight of my prayers and has given me the boldness to bravely approach Him with my shattered heart, entrusting Him again and again with those dreams.   And when I do, He beautifully pours in me the hope, though some days bleak, to continue dreaming and trusting. 

I want to see Him continue to work, and to accomplish those dreams He’s put in my heart.   But for now, I believe it’s about being still and letting Him fight for me as I learn that in quietness and confidence is my strength. (Is. 30:15)

Pastor James MacDonald visited my church recently, and preached from James 1.   When he spoke on James 1:3-4:

"...for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."

He explained that steadfastness, patience, or whatever other word your Bible translation gives, is the Greek word “hupomena”… which means "to remain under."   This is the true challenge of trials and hard seasons in our lives.  Will we choose to remain under when all we want to do is to get out?  To stop fighting it and endure for as long as is needed, learning what our Father wants us to from it?  What a lesson learned that will help us through anything we will face in life!  When we learn how to “remain under” well, it is a funnel through which all other ministry and life opportunities will grow. 

This brought so much clarity to me and encouraged me, as I hope it does for you, that God is using the hard seasons to teach us so much.  The process of learning how to remain under will not only help me now, but in whatever seasons that are ahead.  

So for now, I choose to remain under even when it’s painful.  And remaining under may mean more quiet.  More seeking instead of speaking.   I may be quiet for awhile longer.  The crickets may keep chirping around here, but amidst the silence, a lot more can be learned than it often can in the noise.  

I honestly don’t really know what’s ahead.  I have big dreams and plans, even for this little blog, but they are all in God’s hands.  

And I'm learning that there’s no one better to hold them.  

It's November.

So... it's November. October just flew by with some travel and crazy mingled in with the blur. I tried to get all of my 31 posts done, but realized that if these were words I believe my Father gave me to share from my heart, then they couldn't always come on such a scheduled approach. Instead, they are on His time table.  Then when I saw that one of my favorite bloggers, Emily, posted her need to continue her 31 day challenge into November, and her sister - the creator of the challenge, none the less - is doing the same... well, I'm totally fine with stretching it out now. :)

I hope to continue the last 11 posts in this series over the course of the next two weeks, so I hope you will check back here for them. In the meantime, my heart has been preparing to usher in the month of November, and with it, the realization that the holidays are just around the corner. For someone who has been through loss and is trying to keep plugging along through a lot of hard when most everyone around seems happy and festive, the holidays can be a time when you just want to run for the nearest exit and hole away in your comfy little home until they are over. Or, they can be a greater reason to focus on the hope we have as an anchor for our souls because of Jesus. His love. His sacrifice. His securing of a future that is bright and free of pain and loss.

There are two ways that I have found so far that are helping me tremendously with that, and I want to share them here in case you are also trying to choose joy throughout the next couple of months.  You get that it can be easier said than done.  But it can be done.  Day by day.  Sometimes moment by moment.

First, Ann Voskamp's "thankful tree,"

Our family has done this for a few years now, but we used to just find a pack of paper leaves somewhere (which has been a challenge some years!).  I love how Ann's have verses of praise on them that can adorn your tree.  We just got all of our leaves cut out and can't wait to get started with one thing we each are thankful for each day for the entire month of November.  Go here to find them.

Second, Sara Hagerty, a new author that I seriously cannot get enough of right now, wrote an incredible book I just finished called Every Bitter Thing is Sweet.  She introduces a practice of adoring God, where she finds something about His character to dwell on each day.  I haven't been doing this for long, but already it has encouraged me so much to keep my eyes on Him more often and not on my circumstances.  She has printables to help her readers with this reflection, and you will just love them!  Go here to find them.

So... happy November, everyone.  No matter what we are facing right now in life, may we look back at the end of the month in gratitude not only for what He has done for us, but what He has done in us.

When grief changes your "yes"

It’s amazing how much grief changes a perspective on life.  Yes, a greater focus on eternity and Kingdom living is a given, but other things are also affected – like the way I choose to parent my children. 

B and I always kind of had it in our heads that we would let H get her ears pierced when she turned 10.  Yes, I know we were a bit “old school” and that even baby girls get their ears pierced.   But for me, as I was growing up, that act was a right of passage - a turning point that proved I was responsible enough to take care of myself and my earrings.  So I kept the same perspective for my daughter.   

She never really cared about it until recently.   But then she started to bring it up in conversation.  She told me that almost all of the girls she knew that were around her age already had their ears pierced.  She told me that she was going to work hard at continuing to be responsible and take care of her things, so that she could be sure to get hers pierced in a year.

And I caved.  You see, I know my precious little girl already feels like she often doesn’t fit in now because most of her friends have their daddy around.  It hurts my heart that she doesn’t, but I can’t do anything about that.  But not having her ears pierced?  That’s trivial.  There is no real reason that matters as to why she shouldn’t.  And besides, she’s had to grow up a lot more in the last year and be faced with things that a lot of girls her age haven’t had to deal with yet.  So off we went, on a girls’ afternoon together the day before her 9^th birthday, and a part of that involved the infamous ear piercing… and resulted in one happy girl.

I want to be a “yes” mom.  Now obviously, there are plenty of times that I need to tell my children “no.”  But there are also plenty of times that I think, as moms, we say “no” when it would really be ok to say “yes.”  So I try to ask myself these three questions:

     1.  Is it harmful?  My job is to protect my children in the best way I can.  They will be hurt in this world, but I will do the best job I can to protect them from hurt that could be avoided.  This is especially true while they are little. 

     2. Is it appropriate?  I must consider whether it’s something age appropriate and also appropriate for a follower of Christ.  This is usually the area that takes the most consideration.  I want to protect their innocence, and teach them that their actions have consequences. 

     3. Is he/she mature enough to handle this responsibility?  There have been times when I’ve had to say “no” to activities because my kids weren’t ready for the challenge or responsibility that was required.  There have also been times when I have to say “wait” because I know they will be ready, but aren’t quite there yet. 

After experiencing grief, it’s even more important that I think through these questions, because my tendency could be to give in to my kids simply due to my sorrow for what they have had to endure.  But grief also has a way of making you realize how many things you should say “yes” to, because life is short and tomorrow is never guaranteed.  That goes for myself, and it goes for my parenting. There are so many things that I’ve said “no” to in the past that seem so trivial now.  Who cares if their outfit doesn’t match or they wear jeans when it’s 95 degrees outside?  Who cares if they stay up a little later because they want to finish that exciting book?  Who cares if the dishes don’t get done because we chose to ride our bikes to a park after dinner and stay there to watch the sun set?

Life is sacred.  It’s a gift we’ve been given by the Father, and I, for one, want to cherish it. 

So I choose to say “yes” whenever I can – to God, to myself, and to my children. 

Yes. 

In the thick of the storm.

Sometimes the only way out is through.

I absolutely hate storms.  And I live in an area of the country that seems like the summer thunderstorm capital.  These little storms can pop out of nowhere, lighting up the sky with huge bolts of lightning and startling unsuspecting persons with such loud thunderclaps.  To many, these kinds of storms can appear pretty scary and huge.  But if you can be patient through some crazy moments of blinding rain and loud noise, you’ll soon see that they pass quickly. 

Then there are the storms that seem to last all day.  Just when you think it might be over and calm has returned to the area, another round hits.  I was driving around on this kind of stormy day recently, and it was awful.  I had a day full of things to do and no kids tagging along, so I was determined to check every errand off my list.   But every time I seemed to get behind the wheel again, headed for the next place, blinding rain and road debris seemed to be waiting for me about halfway into the drive.  Scary stuff to be driving around in.   And yet I really had no choice but to keep going, if I wanted to get to my destination. 

I’m finding that life can be that way.  There are those small but huge storm bands that scare us, but if we keep pressing on, we find that they really aren’t all that big and bad after all.  They are over and done with pretty quickly, and we are left feeling like conquerors for surviving them. 

But then, there are the long lasting storms - the ones that seem like they will never end.  They are the storms that seem to pull us under and threaten to defeat us… to make us feel like no matter how hard we try, we just cannot catch a break.   Among other life situations, grief is very much this way.  We try to steadily keep going, but it seems like there is always something threatening to destroy our joy.  Even when it seems like we’ve already survived through the initial storm bands, and it seems to everyone around us that we are doing ok, there are scars that will probably stretch deep enough to affect us for quite awhile.  

So, can storms and joy coexist?  Can we battle the storm outside while experiencing peace on the inside?  I believe we can, but it’s only found in Jesus… because He is the Master of the storms.   We are safe in His grip when everything around us is changed for good and reminds us of our loss.   I can choose to grip the steering wheel with shaky hands, fearful that I won’t make it to my next stop… or I can turn the radio up louder and sing at the top of my lungs.  I can choose to let the song be louder than the sounds of the storm even when it’s still raging on all around me.

I’ve seen enough to know that as long as we live here on earth, there will always be storms.  But our choice is always about how we will respond to them.  And, in knowing that maybe… if we hold on long enough… maybe, just maybe… 

He’ll allow us to see the rainbow.  

"Sometimes He calms the storms, and sometimes, He calms His child." - John H. Groberg

It's not about me.

It’s all about Jesus. All.

This weekend, I had the amazing opportunity to attend the annual women’s conference of the Gospel Coalition. Surrounded by godly women who have walked this road of faith for many more years than I have… spending breaks in a bookstore filled with truth filled resources… listening to incredible teaching from pastors and teachers ministering all over the country – well, I don’t know why I would assume I would come away thinking any differently. But Jesus really was made famous throughout the whole weekend, and His name was exalted and glorified through every word and song.

I have been in what I think is a normal place for anyone walking the road of grief. It’s this time frame of trying to figure out what new purpose God may have for my life after saying goodbye to former purposes that I thoroughly enjoyed and miss greatly. This convincing assurance that there is more coming but having no clue yet what that more looks like. It’s easy to get hung up on the details, wanting so desperately for Him to reveal even a hint of what’s next. And until He does that, trying to do the best I can in this season to prepare myself for what is to come and bring Him glory through it.

So, I went to the conference pretty stressed about some little details, and I came away seeing much more of the big picture and all that really truly matters – it’s all about Jesus. We worked our way through the book of Nehemiah, seeing Christ in every verse. Over and over again, it was emphasized that Bible stories are not there just to be great Bible stories or to become “Aesop’s fables” of sort – where we take away some kind of moral that applies to us after reading. They are there to point us to Jesus. It’s the same way with my life... with your life.

We have been created with a unique story He’s writing that should constantly point to Him. And because that is how we've been created, we don’t have to stress about what that looks like. He will take care of it. And in the in between seasons, all we have to do is rest in His amazing grace and trust that this same God who has worked so remarkably through history past will continue to guide us in the present and into the future He has in store. The next decision. The next hurdle. The next trial. The next victory. That itself will bring Him glory.

Life is so much more freeing that way. I know I’ve taken a few long exhaling breaths as I have reflected on all I was taught this weekend.

He’s got this.

And none of it is about me anyway.

It’s all about Him.

365 days.

365 days. It’s been that long since I have felt his arms around me, or his hand holding mine as we knelt together in prayer before our Father. Since I heard his big boisterous laugh, listened to him share his future ministry dreams with me, or just overheard him playfully count to ten as he took part in a game of hide and seek around the house with the kids. Since I’ve seen his work number pop up on the caller ID at lunchtime just to check in, or saw his eyes crinkle with that big smile, as he told me how beautiful I was and how blessed he was to be my husband.

The list could go on and on, but the bottom line is… it’s been a year today. A year of intense grief, and a year of lavished grace. A year of heart wrenching loss, and a year of never ending, Heaven sent love. And the only way to truly describe it is to say that I am held. Held in the palm of His hand while evil tries to prevail and life can appear so crazy busy that I don’t even know how I will make it through the current day. Sometimes I haven’t even known the words to describe it – this all encompassing Presence that brings peace when all around me is unknown and chaotic.

"...and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor."

My prayer all along has been based on Isaiah 61:3. I have prayed for beauty from ashes, and that I would be willing to suffer and deal with the loneliness that this year has brought with it, if that is what will bring God glory. It’s such a hard prayer to pray, but even when it hurts, I know it’s right and how I can please Him with my life after all He’s done for me. My little feeble attempt of sacrificial worship in response to His lavished gift of His Son’s sacrifice on the cross. My God is good and He is for me. He has made it very clear through the multitude of people who have come alongside us this year, that He loves us, and we are never truly alone.

I’m still waiting to see how the beauty from ashes will take shape. I understand that it may take a lot of patience, possibly a really long time to see, and that there will probably be fully unanswered questions until I get to Heaven myself. 

But it’s the second half of that verse that has become more real and practical to me. It’s the part about the oak of righteousness, for the display of His splendor. I heard Lauren Chandler pray it recently: “Lord, let my roots grow so deep in You, and may such great fruit result that You receive much glory.” And it’s been my prayer since right after B’s passing – “Grow my roots deep, Jesus. Let them be so firmly planted that nothing on this earth can destroy them.”

I watched just the other day, as fence guys tried to lay a fence post too close to a large oak tree in our back yard. Over and over they hit at those roots, until they were covered in sweat and had to stop for a break. Those roots didn’t budge easily, no matter how hard they were hit. And I saw it once again. The importance of the roots – the foundation of the tree. When we see Christ for who He really is – His majesty and our smallness, His sovereignty and our weakness - our roots stay grounded. The tree sways, loses some branches, and looks a little beat up after the storm. But the roots underneath? It will take a whole lot more to destroy them. They are grounded, and they continue to grow.

So, believing that only through God’s strength, He gives me the ability to remain grounded like an oak tree, I choose to move forward. Yes, I will always love and miss B, and be grateful for the amazing husband and father he was that helped shape a strong foundation for our family. But I believe He has good in store for me and my children, and I’m trusting Him with hope and expectation at the future. And, I’m grateful that by God’s grace, a lot of others’ prayers, and godly wise counsel, I’ve made it through a really hard year with my roots still secure.

So today, our family will cry as we celebrate B and the impact he made during his somewhat short time on earth. But much more, we will celebrate a God who holds us in the palm of His hand and works in amazing ways to secure our roots, and lets us see His beautiful love and merciful provision shining through the darkest of nights.

When hurt runs deep...

I’m currently in this group that is supposed to challenge those who love to write to do so more often. It’s always a goal of mine to write and keep writing, but life often gets in the way and makes me busier that I would like to be. So I thought this group might be great motivation to help me stay in the habit of writing regularly, both on this blog and in my journal.

This week’s assignment was to create a piece of writing that uses an analogy. I absolutely love analogies, stories and word pictures. I love when I see or hear something that allows me to think about something else in a new light. I usually end up reflecting on it for quite awhile.  Yet, this week, try as I might, I could not think of any analogies to write about. It reminded me of how I would often tell B how funny he was and to say something that would make me laugh, and he would respond that he can’t just say anything funny right on the spot or it would come out sounding really dumb. :)

Sometimes life just seems what it is at the moment – hard, monotonous, and exhausting. Even though I know that there’s so much more to it than that, and that each day of my life is just a small thread in a beautiful tapestry that I believe God is creating, it’s just hard to see the bigger picture some days. I think that’s why I had a hard time coming up with an analogy to write on last week. It was one of those tedious tiring weeks where I had to be so focused on the practical that I just didn’t have the space in my brain to reflect on cool analogies.

Breaking up kiddy arguments...
      Paying bills...
              Trying to lower a mountain of paperwork...
                     Looking at boxes I wish I could have unpacked by now...
And underneath it all, knowing that February was coming… bringing a possibly very depressing Valentine’s Day and the anniversary of B’s passing with it.

When you experience any kind of grief in life, especially one in your immediate family, it’s easy to live so burdened down sometimes. Yet, if you and I are not careful, we can get so lost in all of the “to dos” and forget about the healing that needs to occur in our hearts. We can stuff those feelings down, busying ourselves in our lists and trying to forget that inside we are aching from a deep deep loss. And sooner or later, if we don’t deal with it, we might just explode inside from the stuffing. That’s why it’s important to focus on how to let the Lord bring healing to our souls so we can move forward with hope.


I just finished reading an unbelievable book by Kay Arthur, called When the Hurt Runs Deep. In it, she shares several points to remember while hurting. Here are just a few of them that I loved and identify with:

1. If God has allowed pain in our lives, He has allowed it for a purpose – a good purpose, because He is a good God. I know that’s oh so hard to believe at the time. It’s a choice to believe that, sometimes every single moment. Some days I audibly must cry out to God and tell Him, “God, I choose to believe that You will bring about good from this. I choose to trust You even though it hurts and I don’t understand why.”

2. Because God is all-knowing, He knows the very source of your deepest pain – and He understands exactly how to heal it. I can look to other things to try to bring healing, but they won’t last or be enough. God knows my heart is breaking. He knows exactly how to heal my heart, and He will do it in His timing. Again – I must seek Him, and then trust.

3. Deep hurt can happen to upright, blameless people; it is not always deserved or earned.  We have to be careful who we listen to when we are hurting. We have to seek the Lord and confess any sin to Him. Then we can free ourselves to live in His desire for us, regardless of what anyone else thinks or feels called to share their opinions about. Read the examples of Joseph and Job in the Bible. They are both men who were walking in faithfulness with God, and both went through a lot of hurt and heartache. God redeemed and restored and brought beauty, but they had to stop listening to some of the voices around them and just seek the voice of the One they believed could rescue them in order to stay faithful through the hardships.

4. Deep, exhausting, unrelenting hurt can bring you to the end of yourself – to complete and total dependence on God – which is the best place you could ever be. I’ve seen this firsthand. Even just practically speaking, I’ve already had to do a lot of things that I don’t have the understanding of how to do. I’ve had to trust Him for pretty much everything. And He’s been faithful every time to provide or to give the skills I need that I sometimes didn’t know I possessed, or bring someone along who does have those skills. I’m dependent on Him, and He in turn makes me, the weak one, strong – but only through His strength alone.  And I truly feel it - I am held.

There’s so much more I could share, but you should get the book and read it for yourself. :) It will comfort and provide hope to you in the midst of any kind of hurt you are going through. It’s meant so much to me that I’m planning to blog again about another part of it – stay tuned!