FREEDOM

I struggle with letting go.

I also struggle with holding on.

It's a struggle that is deeply ingrained in me. I can't seem to release the plans I had for myself. I cling tightly to the things I once thought were important and fight against all that God has laid before me. I miss the days of yesterday when things seemed a bit simpler.

And I long to go back. To change words that were said. My words and the words of others. I overthink mistakes I've made and relive hurtful conversations. And sometimes, with all that, there are more mistakes and more hurtful words. Mistakes that I make, hurtful words I say, and also the actions of others that pierce my heart.

I've been quick to judge sometimes. Quick to jump to my defense and wonder why it is that things are happening. But God's been restoring me lately and has sought to repair those hurts by reminding me constantly of the hurts I've caused others and then helping me to reconcile those things with Him.

And I've had to let go. God has pried my white knuckles from relationships, from the past, and from what I decided the future would look like. He's wiped the slate clean countless times and reminded me that He loves me enough to give me a future that is more lovely than anything I could dream up.

I've been blown away lately. Truly blown away. But I've also found myself drifting into dark places where all the joy that surrounds this time in our lives is threatened to be taken away. The darkness has not won, though, and it never will. Because God's light shines brighter than anything.

It all sounds so cryptic. And while I long to spill all the details, I know it's my own humanity that longs to spill the details. The truth is that the details don't matter. What matters is that God has taken every ugly thing and used it to make my life more of a reflection of Him.

I want that more than I've really ever wanted anything. I want my life to reflect Him at all times. And by staying in a place of hurt and anger, I don't reflect Him at all. In fact, I hide Him and all that He is doing in my life.

Yes, there is a place and a time to seek counsel. To sit down with other believers and spill my heart for them to see and help to heal. But that place is not one in which I am filled with judgement. That time is not one in which I'm seeking justification for how I feel. Rather that time and place is when I've cried my tears and truly want to move on.

I'm moving on now. With grace. And with help from a God who knows better than I do and is so much stronger than I could ever be. And it's hard. It's harder than anything.

I constantly remind myself to pray. To pray for myself. To pray against any anger or hurt. To pray for the people I feel hurt by. To prayerfully seek forgiveness for any hatred in my heart and for any pain I've caused others. To pray for guidance, for continued strength to move forward, and for a clear path. To pray for knowledge.

There's still a long ways to go. By no means am I where I need to be. But God has been beyond faithful. He has given me peace when all I feel is hurt and anger and a passion that threatens to boil over into something else. He has placed people into my life who have spoken truth and given me the ears to hear the truth when on my own I would plug my ears and ignore anything that was said.

He has reminded me of His forgiveness and what that means. He's given me a heart for prayer in which He calls to mind different people and I pray over them. He's given me a vision for the future and taken away that anxiety that threatens to claim me when I think about how different the future looks for me.

I could say that this all has to do with foster care and embarking on this journey of motherhood. That would be true. I know God is pruning me and breaking me of my habits and filling me up with love so that I'm a little more prepared to be in the position of being a mother. But there's so much more to it.

He's raising up a new person. He's reminding me that the person I once was is no more. And while I've known that for years, I've never truly accepted it to be truth, and so I've found it hard to move past certain issues in my life. Like weight loss. He's telling me that it's no longer okay for me to hide or hold on but that it's time to let go and simply let God.

Of course, letting go and letting God is never simple. It's anything but simple. Because it takes away any resemblance of control we once thought we had.

I don't remember the last time I had true control. Between knee surgery and embarking on an adventure to become foster parents and moving congregations and opening up our lives to become community group leaders, I've been more dependent on God and on others than ever before. And while I still crave control (and have a ways to go until I fully relinquish control), God has shown me how in control He is and has taken care of every single need I have.

There's freedom in that. It's a scary freedom but still it's freedom. Freedom to believe that it's okay to let go. Freedom to forgive. Freedom to be forgiven. Freedom to open myself up to loving others. Freedom to listen to what others have to say. Freedom to bare my heart. Freedom to not judge.

And that freedom is so much better than holding on and never letting go.

and then Jesus did something else (a follow up post)

It took me a lot of time to write about how becoming a foster parent and looking into adoption is a Jesus thing for me. I thought about how missional foster care is for months. I listened to people point out that our taking in children points back to the gospel and pondered their words. I also listened as other people said hurtful things. I felt myself wonder if we were doing the right thing and ask myself why I couldn't just be "normal" where I decide I want children, and my husband and I decide to have a baby of "our own."

When I hit publish yesterday, I felt a sense of relief. I was glad to put out there my feelings. But that post wasn't really about me. At least I never meant for it to be about me. Instead it was meant to be about foster care and adoption. To remind myself that the kids in foster care need just as much love. To remind other that the foster parents need a lot of support to.

I got a lot of support yesterday. And I needed that. This week has been a bit more difficult. I've been a bit more impatient and frustrated and unsure about things in life. But the responses gave me peace. I was reminded, again, how big God is and that He is constantly at work during this time in our lives. You can never be reminded too much of how big He is.

God did something else yesterday. He worked on my heart some. I love and hate when He does that.

What He did yesterday was remind me of times when I've said hurtful things. He reminded me of times when I haven't been as excited for people as I should have been or wanted to be. He reminded me of times when I let my own junk get in the way. And He reminded me of the grace so many of those people have shown me.

I don't regret what I said yesterday. I think there isn't a lot of knowledge on foster care or adoption. There isn't a checklist that explains how to help and support people. And for many, foster care and adoption is something you don't talk about. It's a hard subject.

What I do regret is how I've reacted to some things people have said. While I've tried to educate, I've also spent a lot of time licking my wounds. I've spent a lot of time questioning my relationships. I've spent more time upset than I should have.

As this was all happening, I was on my way to dinner, at dinner with friends, and then on my way home from dinner. One of the girls posted on facebook, following dinner, about how grateful she was for how different our group was - filled with different strengths and passions. It had nothing to do with what I was working through, but it reminded me of how important words are.

Words can tear people down. Or they can build others up. I can't take back hurtful words I've said in the past. But I can always ask for forgiveness. And then I can move on - being excited for people in the new seasons of their lives and supportive of them. I can react to other people in the way they need - the way we all need. And I can hope that my joy for them will help them to be joyful for another person.

We need more grace in this world. I, for one, need to give more grace. It's something I struggle with on a daily basis. And it's something I will continue to struggle with. I've mentioned before never saying never again. I'm adding something to that. I don't ever want to say anything that is not affirming to another person. I want God to be in control of my words and my actions. I want to love people in a way that points back to Jesus - ALL people not just those who understand or support fostering.

I'm no better than anyone else. Truly. Sometimes I feel like I am more messed up than anyone else. Like I need Jesus more than anyone else does. And yet, I've been called to, alongside my husband, open my house up and care for children who have nowhere else to go. That boggles my mind because I honestly feel like I'm not cut out for this, like I am too jaded and hurt and enter any other adjectives you can think of. But He sees things differently.

I am so thankful for the people in my life who see me differently that I see myself. I am so thankful for the people who will come alongside me and rebuke me when I am wrong. For the people who remind me of how my words can cut and for the people who forgive me when I ask for it. I am so thankful for the people who stand beside us and support us. For the people who fight for us in prayer and seek to love us when we're often the most unloveable. I am so thankful for a husband who has the same heart and love for foster care, adoption and orphan care that I do.

Last night, after I had worked through most of this (but before it fully set it), I said something to my husband about buying gifts for other people when we're in this season of needing to fill our house with items for two children. And he told me to treat others the way I would want to be treated. That was a reminder I needed desperately. A reminder that came alongside me and whispered that the world would be a much better place if we all treated others the way we wanted to be treated. The people who love me the best make me want to love others in the same way. Those people are the ones I strive to be like. Those people are the ones I want to bless when it's their turn to start a family. Those people are the ones I want to live in community with. I just hope that from here on out I can be one of "those people" to others.

the mercy that covers me

source

When I realized that going back to work and my busy life was not going to happen right away, I reached out for help. It was hard. And I wasn't really good at it. I said I needed prayer and then launched into what was going on. One of my friends asked me what else I needed outside of prayer. I'm so glad she asked this because without that questions I would have been left on my own and without what I needed.

I said food was good. People stopping by during the day. That sort of thing.

Last night, one of our good friends brought us dinner, and she sat in our living room and talked with us about my knee surgery, our house, her job, life, and marriage. The food was delicious. But it was the conversation I truly needed and craved.

The reason I felt strong enough to go to church on Sunday, and then out for lunch, was because we had friends over on Saturday night. Friends who sat and played board games with us - one on the comfortable club chair and one on the floor since I still take up most of the couch. Friends who ate Chik-Fil-A with us and were just there.

This whole thing has made me realize how important community is. How much I value relationships. How much I need other people. And how much I love other people.

The same friend who brought us dinner Monday night told me to enjoy this time. She may have meant the break from work and the slowing down of my pace, but I took her words to mean everything. I get to enjoy more time spent with people. I get to enjoy more community. To enjoy the simpler things in life. To enjoy my house in a way most people don't get to - after all not many of us spend days upon days not leaving the house. To enjoy the stillness and the silence. To enjoy late afternoon naps. To enjoy needing people. And to enjoy the fact that people genuinely care and want to be there for you.

Would I ever wish knee surgery, or any other surgery for that matter, one someone else? No. Do I ever want to have another knee surgery? No, and I am praying that three's a charm when it comes to knee surgery and that I will never need a fourth. But I am beyond thankful that God has met me on this journey and given me this time.

I'm not one for bragging about my health benefits or my job or anything of the sort. I am blessed to work where I do and have the benefits that I do. But I also think it's more than that. Because we have been blessed financially during this process.

source

My co-pay for surgery was only $50. Prior to that, I only spent around $200 between the ER visit, seeing the orthopedic surgeon and such. I'm still waiting for the bill from the MRI and anthogram (which if there is a bill I know we can cover it). And my co-pay for physical therapy? It's nothing. I get a maximum of 60 visits per year and have no co-pay or deductible to meet.

Had it cost more, we would have been fine. I have a Flexible Spending Account, and we have savings. But God has given us a gift wherein we are taken care of completely. It's amazing, really, to look at all of this and see His hand on every inch of it. And I love that others see it too. That they remark on how much He is taking care of and has taken care of us and blessed us.

(title from "worlds apart" by jars of clay)

linking up here for heart + home.

need that to be enough

I've considered how to start this particular post multiple times, and each time I consider the beginning, I consider the words that will follow. Will they be positive? Will the exude strength? How much will I open up? Why can't I just be past this point already? Is any of this even worth documenting? Are others as sick of this constant back and forth as I am?

Because I am sick of it. And exhausted from it. And starting to really, truly wonder if I can even do this. There's a voice in my mind that tells me to stop, to give up, to not even try anymore. And I am doing my best to quiet that voice. It still wins out sometimes.

I've said before that it is not just about weight. This journey does not only include eating well and exercising often. There is a life outside of those things. Friendships to maintain and strengthen. A marriage to tend to. Two dogs who stick close to my side whenever I am home. A family to connect with whenever possible. A 40-hour work week to complete. A life to turn into what I want, hope, and pray it will be. A house to worry about.

If it were just about weight, I think this journey would be easier. I could focus on exercising for hours a day. I could limit the foods in my kitchen to suit only my needs. I could sleep in the middle of the day and take my dogs on walks.

But this journey is about life and what life is like when trying to lose weight.

We went to church on Sunday. I was tired and frustrated with myself. I'd failed to complete the second week of phase one of the South Beach Diet. I felt every ounce of my failure. I also felt every ounce of my being that wanted nothing more but to sit at home and consume comfort foods. Every ounce of my being that had been ready to crawl into bed at 8pm (and did one night) just so I could sleep and forget about the previous day and maybe put off the worry of the next day.

With minutes to spare before the start of the service, I settled into my seat and read through the bulletin. The church recently purchased a building. It's a historical church in the city that needs quite a bit of work, and within the bulletin, there was a pamphlet explaining the funds needed to be raised for the church. The breakdown of money took up one side of the pamphlet, and then on the other side was an explanation of the reason for the breakdown.

I came to the end of the explanation and read about how so many of us focus on the end goal instead of trusting God to walk with us through the journey. I leaned over to my husband and read the words aloud to him. I mentioned how much I struggle with focusing on the end goal, and he smiled because he knows.

How I wish I could say this sparked a change. That I let go of my desire to focus on the end goal and decided to put my faith and trust into a God that's never failed me before. How I wish I could say that the rest of the weekend and this week so far was wonderful and lacked any sort of anxiety.

But I can't honestly say any of that. Because this week has been hard. The rest of the day on Sunday was hard. Filled with all of these emotions (mainly anger and frustration) I couldn't seem to control, I let loose in a less than attractive manner. There were tears. I raised my voice. I didn't want to be comforted. And I felt the weight of it all.

This weight clings to me still. Maybe not as tightly as once before, but it is there. It comes in the form of the dogs ripping off the storm door at the back of the house. It comes in the form of our car being broken into and our house almost being broken into. It comes in the form of the scale either not moving or climbing back up to a number I hoped I had left behind for good.

So how do I move past all of this for good? That's what is on my mind each waking moment. And every night this week, since Saturday, we have completed a devotional together. And every night this week, the words have struck true to the weight and to the struggle and to where I am in my daily life and walk.

The most powerful words came on Tuesday night. Exhausted from sharing my hurts and struggles in a group setting, I came home unsure of what to do. There was a part of me that felt lighter. I had let people in. I had exposed myself. I was able to hear other's stories and to hear a faint whispering that I wasn't alone.

It's so hard for me to truly open up. I can let go of pieces of myself and share stories, but to show someone everything is terrifying. Because I feel like I have no right to struggle or to feel frustrated or to be anything but perfect. Compared to others my life is wonderful. Compared to others I have nothing to complain about.

But with urging from my husband to talk and a feeling rising up in my chest, I opened up. I didn't realize then that it was 364 days before I had had such an amazing and lifechanging experience. I think about that day and I know it was real and true. And I wonder both why some of those things have not yet come true and why I struggle with the same things now as I did then.

With all this in mind, and with a heart that felt raw and exposed, I settled into bed with my husband and opened to the devotional of the night. As we read the words, I knew they were meant for me in that exact moment.

I've spent so much time being strong. Or at least wanting to be strong. I've been through plenty to warrant strength, and even during the times when many would cave or fall or lose it, I held on. I tucked my chin to my chest and moved forward. I often wondered "why me." I didn't want pity. I wanted to understand why certain things happened to me and not to others. I wanted to understand why it couldn't just be easy.

Reading this devotional opened my eyes just a little bit. There is still a part of me that doesn't want to hear what I am being told, but I am quieting that part. I am turning to the Truth I know in the midst of all of this and asking for help that only He can provide me.

I need help with eating well. I need help with exercising (especially this week when I am tired and agitated). I need help with being a wife. I need help with my house. I need help with letting go of all the plans I have for every single day. I need help to sit still and soak up His presence. I need help (and constant reminders) that this journey is just as much about the journey and steps to get to the end as it is the end.

Desperately, I want to be positive and upbeat. I want to remind others that they can do this. That there is no giving up. I want to inspire. And I struggle with that so much as well because I feel like I am anything but positive and upbeat. In the midst of this struggle, I found a quote from Winston Churchill.

The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.

I chose to see opportunity in these difficulties. As I struggle with the questions listed above, I remember that this blog is a documentation of the past, of the present, and of what I want for the future. It is an avenue to document the life lessons as well as a place to come and to let go of all those struggles and words I keep holed up inside. It is an opportunity to share my story and also an opportunity to share my heart.

It is also an opportunity to share a place to mourn, a place to celebrate, a place to share, and a place to rest.

I hope you can find those places as well. If it's here, then welcome. I can't wait to find the different opportunities in every single difficulty.

(title from "lovely" by sara haze)

looking for color in a shade of grey

picture found here

We spend our Wednesday nights at church, helping with the youth group. On Sunday nights, we open our house to the youth group and invite them over for fellowship and community. My husband and I also talk about the youth group, the kids who attend, our hopes for them, and etc. on the other five days of the week. Working with teenagers has always been a passion of mine. Even as a teenager, I dreamt of how when I was older I would offer my love and help to others. I just never thought about how hard it would be.

There was a stretch of about 10 months when I wanted nothing to do with children under the age of five, and I have just know gotten to a point where I once again find babies adorable and toddlers not annoying at all. In fact, I almost miss working with children on a daily basis. I never wanted nothing to do with teenagers, though. Teenagers are interesting. Their brains are ready to absorb, and while so much of their personalities are defined, there is so much room for growth. It's the growth that inspires me, that helps me to stay around even when I feel like nothing I do or say will make a difference.

Last night at youth group, though, I finally got to see some growth. Instead of worship and then a message, there was an open discussion. Everyone was invited to participate and offer criticism of the inner-workings of the youth group. Honest conversations were had about Jesus and Christianity. There wasn't one person (leader or teenager) not paying attention. The Holy Spirit was present and moving.

Sometimes I go to youth group with a grudge. I'm tired and worn out from a day of work. I feel like I'm not doing enough at home, at work, or in my spiritual walk. I'm tattered and feel I will always be tattered. Yesterday was one of those days. I was overwhelmed by the upcoming holidays and my disdain for them.

During the open discussion, I paid attention. I listened to the words being shared, but I also took a minute to walk away and spend time away from others. I felt the Holy Spirit speaking to me, moving in me and changing things around yet again. The past several weeks I have asked for direction. I've also understood that, even though I did not want to, I was supposed to remain still. I'm not the most patient person, so I have not been the best at resting and waiting and not moving forward with my own plans.

But it was clear, yet again, last night that I need to continue to let go. My Achille's heel (as my husband has put it) is that I am a motivated individual. I am stubborn and strong and a fighter. It's good for many things but makes letting go of control more difficult. Not only do I need to let go of control for my own life but for other's as well. This was what was spoken to me last night, an honest picture of how my need for control does not help others but can stand in their way. I was heavy and burdened for the rest of the night, on the brink of tears and not understanding why I had to hear from God in the setting of youth group. It didn't fit with my plan, but I know His ways are so much better than my own.

I returned to the open discussion with my heart beating a little faster and lump forming in my throat. The conversation turned to Jesus as a man and the temptations he went through, the hard labor he endured. And the speaking to my heart started again.

I've tried to be optimistic, but I've failed. While it takes less muscles to smile than it does to frown, giving into the exhaustion and frustration often seems so much easier than remaining positive. Letting my shoulders slump requires less work than reminding myself to sit or stand up straight, to smile, to not complain, to give thanks, to do all these things. But smiling and not complaining and giving thanks in all things is what I am called to do. It's one thing I've never done well on my own, and I know it's something I can only do through God.

I'm thankful that God is sovereign. I am thankful that God never forgets. I'm thankful that it hasn't snowed yet in Oklahoma. I'm thankful for two rambunctious dogs who like to cuddle at night. I'm thankful for a husband who works so hard. I'm thankful for a husband who loves me on my best and worst days (and every other day in between). I'm thankful for family who make me laugh and remind me of who I am. I'm thankful for time spent with friends. I'm thankful for a roommate who cleans our house (and has made it look better than ever). I'm thankful for good television shows and nights spent cuddled on the couch. I'm thankful that God blessed everyone with different personalities and talents. I'm thankful for a church that preaches the Gospel and stresses the importance of community. I'm thankful for the written word - both mine and others. I'm thankful for employment, for a house to live in, and food in the refrigerator. I'm thankful that I am learning about life, love, hope, joy, and what really matters - even though the lessons are hard. I'm thankful for the chance to serve in a youth group that teaches me, and I'm thankful for the teenagers of the youth group and that God uses that time to work in their lives as well as in mine.

There's so much more to be thankful for as well. My heart is full.

(title from "closer" by shawn mcdonald)

everything that was taken can be restored

I'm rediscovering a love for my house. This happens periodically. At times, I hate it. I hate the sloping floors, the tilting ceiling, the worries that go along with the knowledge that our foundation needs to be fixed. I hate how dusty it gets, how often I have to sweep, how dirty the baseboards always are, and it goes on.

But I also love the wood floors. I love how many windows are in the house. I love how open it is. I love that even with all it's negatives it feels like home. I've prayed about our house situation time and time again. I've asked for a miracle. I've begged for the money to fix the house. I fully believe money can miraculously appear in our bank account, and I fully believe God could miraculously strengthen the foundation. But it doesn't truly matter if He does or does not because I know that He could.

We know we will likely need to take out a large loan to fix the house. We're scared of doing this, but we know it is necessary. We hope that the loan will be large enough to cover our current credit card debt so that in five years we can be debt free (other than the house). Just last night, after celebrating our anniversay with dinner out and dessert at home, we discussed how with this new job we will need to keep one another accountable with not eating out, with not going out so that we can afford to fix the home and become debt free.

So often, my husband and I go out because we are tired of being in our house with no one else to talk to. We long for community, to have friends over and play board games. We desperately want to have potluck dinners at our house. But we've been weary of doing those things because of our house. At least, that is my excuse.

I don't take as much pride in the house as I should. Even with all it's issues, our home is still a blessing. It provides a roof over our heads, shields us somewhat from the cold and fully from the rain. It is a place we can lay our heads down and feel safe. It's where we started our family of four. It is our home even with all the problems and annoyances.

I want to take pride in our home. I truly do. I want to stop comparing it to the homes of our other friends and wishing we had waited or thought harder about the purchase. I believe this is where God wants us, but I also believe He did His best to warn us previously that this house would not be the easiest to own.

Our closing barely happened. We were set to move out of our apartment and were not quite sure where we would be moving to. At the time, I chocked this up to the real estate industry. I do remember wondering if it was a sign that this was not meant to be and thought about backing out, but then everything came together and we were homeowners. I think it was God's way of preparing us for the hardships that would follow but also showing us that things will work out in the end.

I've talked before about how similar the house and the work it requires is to humans and the work we require. The similarities still surprise me. God is a carpenter, a true craftsman, but we are not always the best subjects.

I am determined, though, to take His blessings and enjoy them. I am determined to be content in our house. I am determined to dust, sweep, vaccum, and fluff pillows at least once a week. I am determined to invite people over and not be embarassed. I am determined to love the house even when it does not love me (which it often does not).

It is easy to wallow in our circumstances, and sometimes I do. Sometimes I struggle with seeing any sort of shining light, but recentl, God has been constant in meeting me where I am. He has shown up every single time and reminded me that He has everything under control and that even though I might feel alone I am not.

I wouldn't have any determination or fight left in me were it not for Him.

As we enter this new chapter of our lives (our third year of marriage, two steady paychecks, seriously considering home repair), much will change. And I will need to hold myself even more accountable than normal.

Most people make new years resolutions on January 1 and then forget them by January 2, myself included. This year, I am making my resolutions to go along with our current place in life. Here's to our new chapter and what I plan to do/change.

1. get back into a workout routine.
2. cook at least five meals (for dinner) a week at home.
3. bring my lunch to work (and eat what i bring) five days a week.
4. invite people over more often.
5. clean the house a little everyday.
6. throw out the unncessary objects.
7. drink coffee/tea from home - not starbucks or mcdonalds.
8. put away laundry the day i wash it.
9. stick to my grocery list.
10. play more board games with my husband.
11. read more.
12. finish editting my novel and then begin rewriting it.
13. blog at least five times a week.
14. find more blogs to read and invest in.
15. leave comments on the blogs i read.
16. take more pictures.
17. stop looking at expensive houses i can not afford and make my house truly into a home.
18. create more.
19. tend to my garden.
20. limit my complaints to four a week (and hopefully not that many).
21. smile.
22. have grace with myself and with others. (thanks, kat.)

(title from "feel this" by bethany joy galeotti)

all my life you've been calling me

The most amazing thing occurred last night. I attended our weekly Community Group, as I do most Tuesdays, and was encouraged and prophesied over and inundated with love from the Holy Spirit. It’s strange to write those words and realize the weight that they carry. Before last night, I was a bit unsure of the whole prophecy bit in the Bible. I understand that our church believed in prophecy. I had heard stories about prophecies coming true, but I was not a true believer in it. And then last night happened.

For several weeks and months, I’ve been struggling. I have struggled with fear, with exhaustion, with feeling stuck, with resentment, with anger, with uncertainty, with even more exhaustion, with anxiety, with depression, with not knowing how to pray, with not hearing or feeling God, with insecurity, and with other things I’m not sure how to put into words. During much of this time, I have wondered and asked where God was in all of it, what His plan was, and why He was allowing things to happen.

There were some answers, yes, but my heart continued to break for more answers. I continued to feel worn down, to feel forgotten, to be angry. I tried to find joy, and I searched for peace. I asked for peace. And He gave it, but it was often the same thing the next day. And then the next.

In the past two weeks, I began to truly press into God, more than I ever have before. I was at a point, we were at a point, where there was truly nothing else that could be done but to press into Him. It took me a long time to get to this point, and it took even longer to allow myself to let go of my own personal opinions about what it looks like to press into God.

At first, nothing truly changed. It was a lot of work, pressing into God, and it was frustrating to try and try and try but feel like nothing happened. I refused to give up, and eventually, God did begin to reveal Himself in little ways, which I wrote about in this post. But, still, it felt like something was lacking.

And then last night happened.

Like I said, we attended Community Group. Instead of the normal home, we met at a condo (which I am in love with and want all to myself, but that’s another post all in itself). Our Community Group (C-Group, for short) has recently been averaging 20 people or so. Tonight, there were a smaller number of us and then four others who had never joined our group.

The four others came to equip us, to help us to learn about prophecy and to pour into us. It was a divine meeting.

I had difficulty at first with the equipping. Questions ran wild in my head and collided with doubt. I knew and know what the Bible says, but I just didn’t think God could, or would, ever use or speak to me in such a way. And then, dreams were brought up and how dreams can often by from the Lord.

I dream somewhat regularly, and I forget several of the dreams. However, there are several recent dreams I have been unable to get out of my head, and I have wrestled with if they were from God or not. There was a tugging on my heart which told me to talk about the most recent dream and to get direction on whether or not it was from God or if it was just a nightmare, as there was fear that went along with the dream.

When I had the dream, my husband was asleep in our spare bedroom (thanks to our two Labrador/pit bull mixed dogs which regularly boot one of us out of bed). Our family of four was home at night when our house was broken into. Somehow, though I do not remember how, I was able to call the police and then make it back into the living room where we were with the burglars. Our belongings were also in the middle of the living room, ready to be taken into their possession and out of home. I recall a sense of fear in the dream but also a sense of peace. Somehow, though I really don’t know how, the burglars left our home and left our possessions with us.

I was afraid when I woke up. The dream felt incredibly real, and it took me several minutes of prayer and deep breaths before I was able to fall back asleep. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night, unsure of whether the dream was real or not.

I spent several days praying over the dream and asking if it was from God or not. I never got a clear answer until last night, when I was told that the dream did in fact come from God and that I had interpreted it correctly. My interpretation was that over the past year we had been attacked and had almost had everything stolen from us (our marriage, our sense of security, our belongings, etc.) but that the time of attack was almost over.

So much more occurred last night outside of the interpretation, and I feel it imperative to share as it was an absolutely amazing and divine experience. But I also know not to share all details of the night as I believe some of it was meant only for me and for the others in the room. There might be a time later on when I am meant to share, but for now, I want to treasure what happened in my heart and truly pray over it.

Like I said, four people joined our C-Group last night that I had never met. They knew nothing about my struggles or our struggles. And yet, the words they spoke and the pictures they shared elicited a joy and a peace in my heart that I have never experienced.

Some of the words spoken were: strength, sunrise, motherly figure, all things new, eagle’s wings, peace, light, coming out of the pit, the cusp of something new, newfound joy in our roles as husband and wife, and humble servant. Two verses shared were Psalm 40 and Jeremiah 29:11. One person also shared the story of Mary pouring perfume on Jesus’ feet. Another person also quoted some of the words I previously prayed and provided God’s response to my words.

I am still uncovering more and more truths in what were said. I am reveling in God’s love and His grace and the fact that He poured out so much into me. I feel so inadequate for what His grace delivered last night but also more complete in Him than I ever have before.

We are beginning a new journey and a new life. His blessing will abound, that was also spoken over us last night, and I feel as though we truly are on the verge of things we never could have imagined as is said in Habakkuk 1 (spoken about here).

And I couldn’t be more excited or more nervous or more anxious but all in the best way possible.

the sunrise this morning. especially poignant after last night. taken with my iphone.

(title from "the house you're building" by audrey assad)

coming apart when you say my name

I spent much of the weekend in our old, dusty house. I watched several movies, several episodes of The OC, and I am not watching the Primetime Emmy's with my husband. There are times when I desire to go out and see people, but I very much needed a weekend of mainly solitude.

I can feel that things are changing. I feel as though God is whispering to me that as the seasons change this year so will our current status. This brings me hope as I know Fall is very quickly approaching. I'm not sure what the changes will be. It could be that the change is in me, that I learn how to better handle setbacks and uncertainty, that I learn how to take a deep breath and shake off the anxiety. It could be that the change will be in my marriage, that it is strengthened and deepened even more than it had been. So many options for what the changes will be, and as much as I want to know, I understand that right now I need to only have faith and remember that God is in control, that His way is best.

I've spent much time in the word this weekend. I have allowed it to speak to my heart, to provide me with the security I have been lacking and to remind me of His will for my life. I picked up my spiral notebook and scribbled down several verses. I read through several chapters of Job and pondered the musings in my heart, and I prayed over several of the verses.

God has revealed much to me over this weekend about His promises, His hope for us, what community should look like, and what He has in store for our lives. I am overwhelmed by Him and by what He wants for His children. I am overwhelmed by His willingness to speak to me, a woman who has turned from Him more times than could be counted. And His willingness to pursue me when I so often walk away at the first signs of difficulty.

It would be a lie to say I'm not scared because I am. I'm terrified of what might happen both good things and bad things. I'm terrified of losing everything and needing to start over. I am also terrified of being blessed with more because when God blesses you, He trusts you, and while I want to be trusted with His blessings, I am terrified of not doing the things He would want me to do with the blessings.

It would also be a lie to say I don't struggle with anxiety or uncertainty because I do. I struggle with those things on a daily basis - sometimes an hourly basis. But I know His word promises that He is there, and I claim those promises for as long as it takes until the anxiety and uncertainty subside.

I'm contemplating what to say about our struggles. I am also contemplating about what to say about the realizations God is bring me too. He has made it abundantly clear that honesty is vital. At this time, we must be honest with those closest to us because we need community and support. We must also be honest because dishonesty will only lead to us being divided, and right now, division would wreak havoc we would be unable to control.

I believe in being honest here, but I am just not sure exactly what that honesty will look like. When I figure it out, I will let you know.

(title from "who is this god" by alli rogers)