(IN)Courage

[Judy Harder]

Jesus Loves Those In Messy Marriages
Aug 15, 2013 01:20 am | Lysa TerKeurst



I threw the cup of orange juice across the kitchen. It felt good to do something, anything, to release all the surging anger and frustration. And I didn't even mind cleaning the pulpy, sticky mess.

It felt soothing to know how to clean something. I knew how to wipe away this mess. And I liked seeing the mess disappear.

If only my marriage mess could be fixed with soap, water, and a handful of paper towels. If only.

I whispered, God, why does this have to be so hard?

Have you ever been there?

I think many of us have. Whether we're in a really tough marriage or just in a rough patch, marriage can be messy. Hurtful. Lonely.

No one ever told me about this side of marriage before I donned the white dress and danced to MC Hammer at the reception.

But after 20 years of learning, growing, and pressing through the messes to see something beautiful form in the midst of it all, here's what I know....

Jesus loves those in messy marriages.

He loves my husband and me in the midst of it all. Jesus doesn't love the mess of hurt, isolation, and bitterness. Those are things He wants us to work on. But He never stops loving us.

Yes.

Jesus loves me. And His grace is strong enough to extend His love into every part of me. The good parts of me. The broken parts of me. The ugly parts of me. The bitter parts of me. The loving parts of me. And even the part of me that throws orange juice.

Yes, He loves me.

And Jesus loves my husband, Art. His grace is strong enough to extend His love into every part of my husband. The good parts of him. The broken parts of him. The ugly parts of him. The bitter parts of him. The loving parts of him. And even the part of him that looks at me like I'm crazy when I throw orange juice.

Since Jesus loves both of us, He's the best source of help for our marriage.

I don't say that without a deep awareness of how stinkin' hard it is to go to Jesus when I'm mad as fire at my husband.

And I certainly don't say it in naive simplicity. Gracious, I know some of you are facing marriage situations that rip your heart into a thousand pieces every day.

But still, I know Jesus is the best source of help.

Honest cries for help lifted up to Jesus will not go unheard. He sees. He knows. He loves. And Jesus will direct you as long as you stick with Him.

Jeremiah 17:7-8 in the Message reminds us:

"Blessed is the [woman] who trusts me, God,
the woman who sticks with God.
They're like trees replanted in Eden,
putting down roots near the rivers –
Never a worry through the hottest of summers,
never dropping a leaf,
Serene and calm through the droughts,
bearing fresh fruit every season."

So, how do I stick with Jesus? I proclaim I'm sticking with Jesus:

Jesus, I'm sticking with You.

I'm giving You what I don't understand and what I can't fix.

I'm giving You what I don't like about me. I'm giving You what I don't like about him. And I'm giving You what I don't like about my marriage.

I'm listening for Your instruction. I'm positioning myself to go where I'll hear Your Truth. To talk to others who love You and serve You. And to read wise instruction from good books and most importantly Your Book — the Bible.

And even if it kills me, I'm not throwing any orange juice today.

Amen.

Jesus loves those in messy marriages. I should know. Though Art and I have a wonderful marriage now, we can still hit a rough patch every once in a while.

But you'll be happy to know I haven't thrown any orange juice across the kitchen lately.

By Lysa TerKeurst

Need encouragement for those spittin' mad, orange-juice-throwing moments? Check out Lysa's book, Unglued. Click here to get your copy!




Slowing Down To Breathe
Aug 15, 2013 01:10 am | Suzie Lind



I'm one week into a ten-week sabbatical and am barely beginning to unwind. With three kids in school and one toddling around the house, unwinding starts with a lot of undoing and unloading.

I've cleaned the house and gone through every closet but one, purging whatever I possibly can. It's been productive, but mostly what it has been is slow.

Last month, I was having a hard time taking deep breaths. I wasn't sure if it was stress, an anxiety attack waiting in the wings, or if asthma was making its come back.

A few days with an inhaler and beginning this Selah, my lungs have now refueled with air. I can now breathe. Deeply. Slowly. With all the oxygen I need.

During these slower mornings I find myself savoring Romans in ways I haven't been able to before. God-breathed words about His kindness and the inner workings of the Spirit are bringing praise to the surface of this weary soul.

—

Life moves us quickly from here to there and it's easy to skirt over things we don't want to come to terms with. We put off messes too difficult to talk about, hoping someone or something will show up unexpectedly to make everything better, until one day there is no more room to hide.

I shove my messes in a closet thinking, "I'll deal with this later." If you can't see the mess on the outside, there is a momentary sense of relief and deception of it no longer being there. Then one day, the inevitable happens. There is no longer space for shoving, hiding or sweeping under the rugs. Eventually what's hidden must come out and the messes must be dealt with accordingly. Most of the time, it's me. I am the mess.

We do the same thing with the words of God. You know the ones. The ones that make God seem angry, intolerant and harsh. It's easier for us to flip the page and go onto the next chapter, dismissing the hard words to another time and place thinking they no longer apply to us. We hide from the words that may bring out the messes of who we are.

Amazing Grace saved a wretch like me and yet sometimes I pretend to not be broken.

A hardened heart no longer feels the depths of what it's supposed to feel. Be it love, joy, pain or suffering, the hardened heart is indifferent, inoculated, maybe even medicated by avoidance. Romans 2 says a hardened heart stores up wrath and I wonder...with all this storing up we do with things we don't want to deal with, are we suppressing the kindness of God which sometimes looks like discipline?

God's kindness is intended to lead us to repentance. {Romans 2:4}

It is written... "the Lord disciplines those He loves" and even when it hurts and doesn't seem pleasant, later on we will see its benefits. Hebrews promises our discipline will produce a harvest of righteousness and peace. The hard things we deal with now, the yucky stuff we are going to stop shoving in our closets, the lessons learned in these times of discipline are not only for our own benefit but they will also do good for others.

Slowing down gives God a chance to deal with my chaos in my house and in my heart so I can really see how He loves me. Even though it may be uncomfortable in the process.

How has slowing down helped you process difficult words or circumstances?

By Suzie Lind, Hemmed In

[Judy Harder]

For When Your Floors are Tacky
Aug 17, 2013 01:20 am | Jennifer Schmidt



Beyond ecstatic, I hung up the phone overcome with gratitude.

After seventeen years in our home, the home with five children (four teenagers), three dogs, and two cats tearing up the same worn carpet and ripped vinyl floors, one of my favorite flooring brands invited me into a partnership to replace those nasty things (the floors, not the kids.)

Sure, it was an absolute "want," not a "need," but since we're committed to paying cash for all our purchases, it felt like a hug from above that skyrocketed this superficial purchase housed at the bottom of our "To Do" list right to the top.

Told that they wanted our flooring done within two weeks, I spent the next few days pondering all the laminate and hard wood flooring choices. Wow, I had no idea there were so many options. How does one make such first-world decisions?

Dreams of sleek floors filled my thoughts. Thoughts that no longer included positioning furniture over nail polish spills, coffee stains and dog accident residual allowed the creative juices to flow.

I hosted a large gathering later that weekend, and as I shared my plans for new flooring, a close relative exclaimed her excitement, "I am just thrilled for you. You deserve it, plus these floors look so tacky now."

As the evening continued, my eyes gravitated toward those tacky floors.

Those tacky floors that welcomed guests from cities and countries around the world. Those tacky floors that invited children to wrestle and giggle and build forts. Those tacky floors that told stories of a life well spent.

It's been nearly one year now since that pivotal week. The week I spent dreaming about my new floors. That same week my old floors screamed "tacky."

Throughout this past year, not a month goes by that our ten-year-old daughter doesn't ask, "Do you think that company will ever follow through with their promise about our floors? They shouldn't break a promise like that."

"You're right. They shouldn't, honey, but it happens, and our floors are just fine."

"No mom, they are tacky. You know they are."

The last time she reminded me of this fact, I pulled her down on the sofa and began to reminisce.

"Do you see that stain? Remember when Lola got into the chocolate and we thought she might die? But she didn't.  The Lord took care of your special puppy and that stain reminds us of that.

And the tears in the kitchen vinyl? You crawled for the first time in that spot and took your first steps right by that crack. Now you are ten years old and dropping cookie dough that you've made from scratch, all by yourself, on that same tacky floor.

This coffee spot? I smile every time I see it because women shared life together that evening. We cried and giggled and assured each other that we will make it through the exhausting days. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and it's a joy to welcome them into our home and remind them of that regularly.

Sweetie, I know you don't like these floors, and it's OK to think about buying new ones,  but for now, I want you to love them and all that they symbolize. LIFE. Life to the fullest."

As we cuddled together reminiscing, contentment covered us. Our home life flows from God's abundance.

Yes,  worn carpets stare back at us. Yes, ripped flooring is still a reality, but they are ours.

Our home, our memories, our reminder of God's faithfulness throughout a decade of uncertainty.

Sometimes, all we need is a perspective change and this time the Lord used a seemingly insignificant and superficial disappointment to remind us of His goodness.

Don't let this moment fool you. I'm still saving my pennies to replace those floors, but for now, I'm embracing each moment that we have left with them.

So, let's give three cheers for my tacky floors.

Floors where thousands of feet have walked during hundreds of gatherings. Floors that have celebrated new life and floors where mourners lay grieving from death too early.  Floors that witnessed grace in action and floors that still hold secrets from foolish decisions. Floors that have shared Life – a life well spent.

Thank you, Lord, for my tacky floors.

They are messy,  just like me, and there's something awfully beautiful in that.

Do you have your own "tacky floor" story?

Why don't you join me in the comments to celebrate our perspective change?

Shared by: Jen Schmidt, author behind Balancing Beauty and Bedlam and 10 Minute Dinners

[Judy Harder]

New Clothes For School: A Mommy's Prayer
Aug 19, 2013 01:20 am | Bonnie Gray



My friend Babette is from Holland.

She didn't understand why her American mommy friends were getting their knickers in a twist last week.

I had brought over some strawberry pastries for us to enjoy in stealth while our boys played paper airplanes in their bedroom.

Babette was making shots of coffee for us with her Nespresso machine when she asked me.  "So, what's the big deal about back to school clothes shopping?  Why are parents all stressed out about buying new clothes and shoes to wear when school starts?"

"Didn't you wear new clothes on the first day of school when you were a little girl?"  I asked, reminding her I only take decaf.

"School supplies, sure.  But, not clothes.  We don't have that practice in the Netherlands."  She replied, passing a cup of warm decaf and sugar for me.  "So why did you buy new clothes for TJ and CJ?"

This year, I wanted to save some money.  So, I just got a few new outfits for the boys to wear the first week.  Nothing major since the kids haven't outgrown their sizes.

Nobody's ever asked me this before.  The funny thing is, I wasn't exactly sure why either.  "I guess it's just what you do.  You don't want your kid to feel left out."

"Yeah, but these are second grade boys.  I don't think they care."  It didn't make sense to Babette.

I started thinking. "It's about letting kids know school is important.  It's a special occasion."

"Yeah, but it's seems more than that.  Everybody's all stressed out about it."  Babette wasn't convinced.

I thought some more.  "Well, I guess I want to make a good impression for the teachers.  I want them to them to know that TJ and CJ are loved and well taken care of."

"Maybe that's it,"  Babette says, as she joins me with her coffee at the table.

A Different Set of Clothes
Our conversation got me thinking.

I've got the the school supply lists checked off and their outfits laid out for the new school year.  I've got the externals of getting ready lined up. Have I spent as much energy and thought focused on what's on their hearts and minds as well?

How can I clothe the heart and mind of my boys for the new school year?

How can I clothe my own mommy heart as I meet new children, moms, dads and teachers?

I reassure my kids everything will take time.  All will be well.  I'll pick them up and we'll have a yummy snack at home together.

But, inside, I can't help but worry.  Will there be friends they can play with at recess or will they feel a little lost about what to do?  Will they like their teachers?  Will their teachers like them?

And how about me?  I'm just recovering from post-traumatic-stress.  I am not able to be very social.  Meeting new people makes me feel anxious.  I can't volunteer much right now either.  Will other parents like me too?

As these concerns weighed on my mind, God brought to mind a different set of clothes — from this verse in Colossians 3:12 –

"Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved,
clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience...
And over all these virtues, put on love."

I was reminded to pray my Mommy Missional Prayer.

It's my heart's prayer for my sons, since I first began sending my children to attend public school.

I've always had a heart for missions, having once served vocationally in the mission field.  Having returned to civilian life, I've always felt impassioned that who we are makes the mission, not where we go. People are God's mission field.  Wherever they are.

So since becoming a mom, I've felt so honored and amazed at the opportunity to disciple two beautiful new hearts for Jesus — in hopes they will touch and bless others they meet at school.

A Mommy Missional Prayer
As I thought about how I can clothe their hearts and minds, I prayed my Mommy Missional Prayer.

"Lord, you sent the disciples out two by two into the world.  I want to ask please bring one friend who can be your welcome for CJ and TJ at school this year."

I prayed also for my own heart.

"Give me your grace to listen when they come home.  You know how I stress when they tell me their worries.  I need your Holy Spirit to make my heart a place of safety and encouragement for my boys.  Help me to love them like you, Jesus."

I am, after all, sending my children out into the world — not to be of it, but to be in it.  Here in California, in the heart of Silicon Valley, there are people from every nation.  The mission field is here at the doorsteps of our school.

"You are in CJ and TJ's hearts, Lord Jesus.

They are your little missionaries to love different friends they will meet.

I pray your light in them would shine bright.

Give them eyes to notice someone who they can be a friend to.

Give me wisdom to listen and support them.

May teachers and parents who come to know CJ and TJ see You –

through their kind and sweet spirits."

Then, I thought about myself.  I can't do anything big.  I'll be happy to pack lunches and get to them to school on time.

So I prayed, "Lord Jesus, you know I am weak and frail.  But, if there is a new mom I can connect with — even just once — guide my heart to engage.  Use me small.  Use me gentle.  Use me kind."

"The disciples came to Jesus asking, "Who gets the highest rank in God's kingdom?"
For an answer Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the room,
"I'm telling you, unless you return to square one and start over like children,
you're not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in.

Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child,
will rank high in God's kingdom...'"
Matthew 18:1-10

The truth is, we are all little girls and boys deep inside.  That's how Jesus calls us to live as parents. As His kids too.

We Are His Children
As we send our little ones to school this week, let's not forget we are His little children ourselves.

We don't have to have it all figured out.  We don't have to war game it all out — trying to protect our children from all the hurt and possible disappointments in life.

We can't.

But, we can all run into the arms of Someone who knows all will be well.  We can tell Him our troubles.  Even if it gets complicated (because it can), Jesus wraps His embrace around us.  He can connect the dots, when we can't.

He stands us with us in the middle of the school yard.  As we shake and tremble in line with our boys and girls on the first day of school, straightening on our shirts and wondering if our hair looks okay.

Jesus reminds us –

I am with you.  Even on the far side of the playground.  Even in the back row of desks.  Or the corner of the rug.  I am always with you.

I will help you.

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not 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

Even though we can't see our little ones at school — we can't be there to sit next to them at lunch — Jesus has his angels assigned to each of his children.

That includes you and me.

"And Jesus said, ....'Whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me...
You realize, don't you, that their personal angels
are constantly in touch with my Father in heaven?'" Matt 18:10

~~~~~

Let's pray for each other.

What is your prayer for your son or daughter for this school year?

What is your prayer for yourself as school begins?  You are precious God's daughter too.

I know many of you are wonderful "aunties" and "big sisters" of friends' children — grandparents and teacher too.  Please share your prayers too.

Are you a student yourself?  We want to remember you as well.

Pull up a chair.  Click to comment.


Photo by Kathy via flickr.
~~~~~

If you're on the journey of faith to walk out into the world, I'd love your company.  Join me on my blog as we journey in community together. Let's keep speaking words of encouragement and friendship with each other in our faith stories — as it's being made and lived.  As is.

Written by Bonnie Gray, the Faith Barista, serving up shots of faith for everyday life.



Behind the Scenes with Red Letter Words!
Aug 19, 2013 01:05 am | Dee Kasberger


I was nervous.  Really nervous.  I was having lots of fun creating prints and playing around with different designs and giving them to friends and family members for birthdays and baby gifts.  I was finding my style.  Well, then said friends and family members liked my prints so much that they started to encourage me to put them for sale on Etsy.  So my husband, Tim, and I had this conversation every day for at least 2 weeks..

Me: Do you think I should start an Etsy store?
Tim: Yes.
me: Really?
Tim:  Yes.


I Can Do Everything Through Him Wall Art

I already knew the Lord had put the desire in my heart to have His Word in prominent places in our house.  Now I felt He was leading me to put in out there in the world.  After much hemming and hawwing around and generally dragging my feet (quite similar to the process of starting to tell my story on the blog) I did it with reservations.  What if nobody liked what I had done?  It was my whole heart out there.  What if everybody liked it so much that I couldn't keep up with orders and everything fell apart and everybody was unhappy because mom was too busy and stressed out?

Because I am a wife and a mom and child of God and Red Letter Words was and is my hobby.

When my mind got to the point where it was quiet enough to hear what the Lord had to say about this, he reminded me of another desire I had in my heart which was to glorify Him with whatever spare time I was given.  And I was reminded that He wasn't going to  give me this desire and vision without providing the means to accomplish it.


Let Your Light Shine Pillow

So that fall of 2009 I was busy.  Really busy.

And then someone contacted me through Etsy that changed everything.

It went like this:

Do you license your work?  Do you want to license your work?  I work for Demdaco.

Um,  let me think...Yes, Yes, Yes!  Yes I absolutely do want to license my work!

Many many phone calls and emails and brainstorming sessions later Urban Soul came onto the marketplace in January 2011.

One of the things I do every month is write down goals.  Habakkuk 2:2 says to Write down the vision and make it plain on tablets so that he who reads it may run with it. Some of the goals are very specific, but others are super open ended like this one:

Do what I can to bring God's glory to lots and lots of people.  I feel like this totally leaves the door wide open for God to come in and do what He will.

(Speaking of open doors, one door that was opened was The Heart Collection – a line of art prints and candles that feature quotes from Holley Gerth!)


The Day Had Come Wall Art

So all of this comes from a simple desire to have our favorite scriptures displayed boldly and prominently in our house.

What is your favorite scripture to display in your home?

By: Dee, Red Letter Words

This month only, use the coupon code: UrbanSoul25 to receive free shipping on your Urban Soul Purchase over $25!  Click on over to shop around!

[Judy Harder]

The Tilt Of My Heart
Aug 20, 2013 01:10 am | Amy Smith



It was June 21st – the summer solstice. With my heels still deep in the thick of loss and a longing to put the pain of spring behind me, I had been waiting for this day – for the earth itself to proclaim summer's arrival, the start of a new season.

So, it just seemed wrong – that a day filled to the brim with the promise of a new beginning would bring a letter bearing the same old news. When I pulled the envelope from the mailbox, I was curious. It was not the usual self-addressed, stamped envelope I include with my manuscripts. This one was the publishing company's envelope. Did this mean what I hoped? As I breathlessly peeled it open and unfolded the letter, it was clear it did not.I took in the familiar words – "not quite right." My heart sank.

I've dreamed of being a children's writer since, well, childhood. I have notebooks full of stories and almost stories – full of misspellings, penciled words now faded, and all the unabashed hope of a little girl. I've also spent most of my life running from this dream. A high school English teacher once told me that I should be a lawyer or a writer. Ten years later, I chose the former. It just seemed safer. And I don't mean in the traditional ways, like financially or professionally – I mean emotionally. Pursuing a dream can be scary. My dream scared me so much that, after deciding to attend a college with a noted creative writing program, I dropped out of my creative writing class the first week of freshman year. I never took another one. 

In the years that followed, I flirted with the dream, but never made a move. I always found a reason not to – I was too busy, too stressed, too depressed, too unsettled.

But there's something about dreams. I think God gave them wings. And they can catch us – no matter where, or how fast, we run. Last year, with my white flag of surrender waved high to the heavens, I started writing again. And I started submitting my work to children's magazines. And I started getting rejection letters. And they just. keep. coming.

Sometimes the dreams God tucks most deeply into our hearts take the longest to come true. Have you noticed this? And when our dreams aren't fulfilled as quickly as we'd like, it can be confusing, heartbreaking, faith shaking. It can make us feel like pulling away from them, and even Him. But if we do, then we miss the real purpose of dreams – of all things – that they bring us closer to our Father.

I flunked 9th grade Earth Science. It's true. I spent the summer of 1992 with a very patient tutor. But, I'm pretty good with Wikipedia. And here's what it says about the summer solstice: 

"The summer solstice occurs when the tilt of a planet's semi-axis...is most inclined toward the star (sun) that it orbits."

I linger on this awhile. And I think about the One that I orbit. And I pray that the tilt of my heart will always be most inclined toward Him – whose love shines steady and bright over me in every season, no matter what the day brings.

[Judy Harder]

Speak Love
Aug 21, 2013 01:20 am | Annie Downs



Last year, when the Girls of Grace tour asked me to be a speaker, they asked if I would be able to talk about the power of words.

Um. Yes.

I'm not sure science has proven this true, but I think I have said more words in my thirty-three years than any other person ever. (Right, like I said, no proof. I'm just guessing.) And Proverbs 10:19 likes to remind me often that people who talk a lot seem to sin a lot too.

Hmph. Rude.

But true.

So I knew I could handle getting up in front of a few thousand teenagers across the country and pleading with them to do it better than I have, to use their words well, not waste them or destroy with them, but to build with them.

Y'all. It was a dream come true.

But after two events, in the fall of 2012, I began to feel a little stir on my insides: God wanted more on this topic. We were on a mission, me and God, and I knew it. A mission to teach young women how to use their words.

So I wrote a 30-day devotional and gave it away at Girls of Grace events.

You know what I thought? I thought that was God's big dream. I thought that was the end of the story.

A few weeks later at our event in Grand Rapids, one of my Zondervan team members who was instrumental in getting Perfectly Unique on book shelves stopped me after my talk on words.

"That's your next book, Annie."

What. Huh. First of all, I GET a next book? The opportunity blew my mind. And secondly, WORDS? Wait. I thought God's story was done with the devotional. Apparently not.

A year later? Speak Love.

And it feels bigger than a book or a devotional or a talk on a stage.

It's time to change our culture and the way women use words.

I know. It seems big to say, "LET'S CHANGE OUR ENTIRE CULTURE!" but if I've learned anything in the last year, it's that God's dreams don't stop growing and it is way more fun to jump on board than to think the story is done.

And when it comes to talking about how we use our words? We can't do it enough.

You probably grew up knowing a mean girl. I did too, and you probably have been hurt by words. I have too. But you know what else? I bet you have hurt people with your words.

I have too.

But I'm ready to lead the charge to see that change. Will you join with me? Will you use your words to speak life, not death (Proverbs 12:18)?

What does that look like? It looks like holding your tongue when you want to unleash venom. It means sharing stories of hope and words of encouragement. It means writing and singing and calling and answering.

Speak Love released this week and it is with a bowed and humbled heart that I begin this next chapter of whatever God is writing. I would say that this book coming out is the end of the story, but I've learned better that to assume that again.   

How have words affected you?

by Annie Downs

[Judy Harder]

10
Ways to be a Happier Mom


1. Life is not an emergency.

Life's a gift.
Just. Slow. Down.



2. Now is not a forever grace but amazing grace.

Do whatever it takes to wake to wonder right here.



3. Sometimes the slowest way is the fastest way to joy.

Make time today, even a moment, to read Scripture and memorize it.

Without the lens of His Word, the world warps.

{Slowest=fastest to joy}



4. Laughter is the cheapest, holiest medicine.

Preschoolers laugh 300 times a day. Aim for double that. Tickle someone, (yourself!), if necessary. This is good!



5. Motherhood is a hallowed place because children aren't commonplace.

Co-laboring over the sculpting of souls is a sacred vocation, a humbling privilege.

Never forget.



6. Homemaking is about making a home, not about making perfection.

A perfect home is an authentic, creative, animated space where Peace and Christ and Beauty are embraced.

{Perfect does not equate to immaculate.}



7. A pail with a pinhole loses as much as the pail pushed right over.

A minute dawdled here, a minute scrolling here — they can add up to your life.  Write down your intentions for the day and prayerfully live the intentions and spend your life well by paying attention to the moments — which pays thanks to God.

A whole life can be lost in minutes wasted, small moments missed.



8. Believe it: I have all I need for today. 

The needs of our day are great but our God is greater and we call Him Providence because we believe: He is the One who always provides.

{And when God provides, He should be praised, and if God always provides, shouldn't praise always be on the lips?}



9. Slow. Children at play.

The hurry hurts the kids.

Time's this priceless currency and only the slow spend it wise enough to be rich.

If we had to actually buy our time, would we spend it more wisely — spend it more slowly?

{God's Word never says Hurry Up. God words only whisper: Wake Up.}



10. Love is patient.

Parenting's this gentle way of bending over in humility to help the scraped child up because we intimately know it takes a lifetime to learn how to walk with Him.

Patience. Love always begins with patience and patience is a willingness to suffer.



Bonus:

The art of really celebrating life isn't about getting it right — but about receiving Grace.

The sinners and the sick, the broken, the discouraged, the wounded and burdened — we are the ones who get to celebrate grace!

Regardless of the mess of your life, if Christ is Lord of your life, than we are the celebrants out dancing in a wild rain of grace — because when it's all done and finished, all is well and Christ already said it was finished.



Q4U: What is your plan to be a happier mom (happier person!) this fall? Let's be a community and resource to cheer each other on to happier living (parenting!) this fall! Jump into the comments with Just. One. Thing. you are going to do toward happier living:

Will you join in the conversation here? (Email and RSS Readers — come join the conversation here?)

By Ann Voskamp at A Holy Experience





Why You Need To Climb...
Aug 22, 2013 01:10 am | Jennifer Kostick



I don't know what it is. I cannot really put my finger on it. Why does it seem that the closer I get to reaching my goals the more inadequate I feel? These feelings are becoming an uphill battle and the climb becomes steeper and steeper with each new day.

However, if there is anything I've learned, anything at all, it's that the stronger the battle rages the more I can be sure I'm doing the right thing. And do you know what? I'm willing to bet it is the same for you.

Giving up and giving in is not an option. It isn't for me and it can't be for you. You have gifts and a community of supporters who are waiting to watch you climb that steep hill, defeat those giants, and reach the apex. Oh yes, even if you don't feel it, you are loved. Your heart and life are beautiful. Your soul was designed for His delight.

Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Therefore let us, as many as are mature, have this mind; and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal even this to you. Nevertheless, to the degree that we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us be of the same mind. Philippians 3:12-16 (NKJV)

"Let us walk by the same rule." Yes! "Let us be of the same mind." Yes! "... reach forward to those things which are ahead. "Yes, Yes and YES!"

You don't have to be a writer to identify. Whatever gift God has given you is priceless. He wants you to use it to give Him glory. When I feel like giving up He says, "Keep going." And today, I want to convey the same to you.

Keep going, sisters! Keep fighting to climb the steep mountains that you are facing. God is a God of love. He loves you enough to have blessed you with more gifts and talents to pursue than you could have ever thought possible. So climb. Hold on tight to Him and climb with all you have. Climb for His glory. Climb for His grace. Climb for all of us who are waiting to see what God will do through you.

You can...

You will...

You must climb.

By Jennifer Kostick, aGirlontheDoorstep

[Judy Harder]

Getting Nudged Out of My Comfort Zone
Aug 23, 2013 01:20 am | Mary Carver

I have this cat, Peanut. And she's really sweet and affectionate and gentle with children. But she is also just about the most annoying thing on the planet.

She talks a lot, but that's not really the problem. In a house full of big talkers, I can hardly complain about that. (And just so you know, I'm not a completely crazy cat lady. My cat does not, in fact, talk like a human. But she sure chatters and squeaks and meows . . . pretty much every minute she's awake.)

The thing that drives me up the wall about Peanut is that she is stubborn. Or lazy. Or both – I'm not really sure where the issue stems from, and I don't have time for kitty therapy. All I know is that when I try to make her move – off my spot on the couch, off the dining room chairs at dinner time, off my leg when I'm trying to sleep at night - she refuses.

I know! She's a cat! How can she refuse to do what I tell her? [Yes, friends, this is indeed sarcasm, because even cat lovers know that the feline species pretty much does whatever it wants to do, end of story, amen.]

I might not be crazy, but I do really like cats – especially my own. So when I want Peanut to move, I'm gentle. I nudge her with my foot or pat her nicely on the back. When she won't even deign to open more than one eye at my request, however, I move onto more urgent communication.

Still, nothing moves that cat. In fact, when I attempt to do so, she often raises her head and yells at me. "MROWWWW!" she shouts, indignantly, as if I'm severely inconveniencing her by WANTING TO SIT ON MY OWN COUCH.

Obviously I'm the human and she's the cat, and eventually she's forced to move. But she makes sure – every single time – to let me know how Very Unhappy she is about it.

It's annoying. And . . . it's a lot how I behave when God asks me to move.

Get up early to read my Bible?
But, God, it's just so hard!

Reach out to that person who makes me feel uncomfortable?
But God! It's so awkward! And I don't like being awkward!

Apply for that job? Quit that job? Start that project? Move to that city? Stay here?
But, but, but . . . GOD! Do I HAVE to? It's so HARD!

Try this new thing? Go to a new place? Talk to a new person?
Oh, I don't know. I like how things are now. It's comfy here, easy even. No, thanks...

It doesn't really matter what God asks of me. From small changes to big risks, my first instinct is to dig my claws into the couch and stay put, so to speak. Change is hard, and my comfort zone is soft and safe. So when He asks me to follow, my immediate response isn't always one of obedience.

Nope, I can be as stubborn – and, let's be honest, as lazy – as my cat.

Of course this metaphor only goes so far. Because right now God is asking me to move, sure, but He's also asking me to stay put in some situations – situations where I'd much rather run, move, change, go. See, our comfort zone isn't always defined by a lack of movement. Sometimes it's the other way around.

But no matter what feels safest to me in any given situation, my calling – to follow Him, to trust Him, to obey Him – is more important than my comfort.

And so when God begins nudging me, gently because He loves me, I do my best to keep my scaredy cat instincts in check. But I also tell Him how I feel. I'm pretty sure He can handle it. So those conversations are [slowly] starting to look a little different:

Get up early to read my Bible?
Oh, man, that's hard. But...okay. I'll set my alarm for 30 minutes earlier. Help me find the energy to get up when it goes off?

Reach out to that person who makes me feel uncomfortable?
Her? The one I had that awkward conversation with? Um...all right...I'll start with an email...today.

Apply for that job? Quit that job? Start that project? Move to that city? Stay here?
Wow. Really? REALLY? Okay. I trust you. Help me trust you...

Try this new thing? Go to a new place? Talk to a new person?
Whew, I don't know. I was just settling in here. What's my first step? Will you help me?

I'm trying to listen right away and move – or stay – the way He's asking. It's not easy, and sometimes I still act like my grumpy, stubborn cat. But hopefully this way I can move WITH God...instead of making Him resort to pushing me off my proverbial couch. (After all, I might have something in common with my cat, but I'm not sure about always landing on my feet!)

Have you ever struggled to respond to God's nudging? Do you have a hard time leaving your comfort zone when God calls?

By Mary Carver, a work in progress who's Giving Up on Perfect

[Judy Harder]

What it Means to Take Heart, Part 2
Aug 24, 2013 01:20 am | Amber Haines



Read Part 1 of What it Means to Take Heart, but only if you promise to come back. Here, I'll sit and wait for you.

I'm on a bench at the park. The shadow around me is a tree, and I have a notebook. There's a bush just here where bees kiss sweet white buds all over. It smells like sugar and autumn, sounds like buzz of bee, bird, and weed-eater. Women have actually gathered below me here to hula hoop together. I'm laughing. Some days afford us the sun, a breeze, just enough quiet then a phone call, invitations to enjoy and be enjoyed. Yet as I get older, I know more and more of the crumpled-heart, those who never get a fill, who labor with no fruit, the ones betrayed and bowled over.

I awoke a few weeks ago as from a dream, and almost with my eyes I could see how deep I had fallen into the hopelessness that comes with the trouble of this world. Before that day, I hadn't been able to see around in the dark, all the teeth threatening. This was the pit, maybe, except it was in my kitchen and my minivan.

In John 16, right after the passage of the coming Holy Spirit and then how our sorrow will turn into JOY, Jesus says to his disciples in verse 33: "I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world, you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world."

In part 1 of these thoughts, I asked what it means to "take heart," because the truth is that I missed the mark this summer, and I never want to go through that kind of sorrow and confusion again. So if Jesus Christ Himself told us that in this world we would have trouble, then we better believe it's coming, but He says to take heart because He has overcome the world. Take heart, as if there's a choice here to suffer in a way that overcomes. Take heart, because if we don't take it, we lose it. We are either overcomers with Christ, or we are overcome with despair.

Now this is exactly the point where I would like to bold bullet point some step-by step instructions, but I have none. There has only been one hard, beautiful truth that has wrapped around and roped me up from the dark, and when I type it, to the untrained ear, it will sound like the worst of news, but to me, it is salvation.

I am crucified with Christ, nevertheless I live, yet not I, but Christ lives in me.

Christ lives in me. Try to wrap your brain around that one, huh? But friends, when I first believed, my life had been such a mess that it was easier then for me to see myself as dead, like my ghost had left me and Jesus had entered my skin to move me about. I knew I had been rewritten. So when He moved me into unknown territory, I was warrior courageous because I knew it was He who moved me and who overcame.

"Take heart" has also been translated as "be of good cheer," which sounds to me like "just be happy," so I had to get out my 50 pound concordance, and wouldn't you know it that the word in Greek means something so much stronger than that? "Take heart" means to have courage. The root of the word means to exercise bold and confident courage! Of course the world around us is an unfair mess of circumstances. It's the sick world. But inside me lives Jesus, and He is before all this, He is indeed after, and I am in Him, Ancient of Days.

Sometimes the question is simply about whether or not I believe that I am in Him and He in me. This summer I wasn't sure of the answer to that question because I had denied the power of God living in me, shrinking under the fear of something terrifying that He's asked me to do. I wish I had believed that He would do it all along. I wish I weren't so weak, but in that very weakness, He reminded me of my death, that day I first believed, the first day of my life.

It's a funny thing how suffering has led me so many times straight into His arms, into an honest way of peace. The pit of my bed was the weak place from which I could renounce the lies and shout that HE LIVES IN ME. Imagine my dry bones standing up.

So this is me coming to you as a minister of the gospel, confessing that I have struggled with doubt and disobedience and a terribly broken heart, and I am begging your ears.

Take heart, sisters. I believe it's true that He lives in you. All these little deaths we die are straight avenues into His arms. Don't miss it. Take heart. It's a stone-real fact that the character of Jesus Christ indwells you. Every kind of courage and peace and triumph is in Him, and He has overcome the world.

Do you believe it?

How would you live differently if Jesus Christ really did indwell you?

[Judy Harder]

When Seemingly Worse is Better Than Sameness
Aug 26, 2013 01:20 am | The Nester



I'm writing this post completely for myself. So that in a month, a year and heaven forbid, two years, I can remember....

My husband and I just bought a fixer-upper. Every room has 25-year-old decor complete with floral or lighthouse wallpaper borders and dark green paint. Every room is pleading with me to put it first on the list of making it lovely.

We gutted the kitchen and now I have no stove but I do have crooked nails and wires hanging from an open ceiling.

The boy's bathroom has a pink sink and almost but not quite matching tub and toilet, also from the pink family.

The pool is sparkling blue one day and mud colored the next as we figure out the best levels for the chemicals as they mix with our well water.

We have no internet and our hopes of a decent, high-speed connection are fading fast. The internet is kind of my job, by the way, which helps pay our mortgage.

We have to switch our cell phone carrier and get new phones, our boys are starting a new school today, and the dog is itching something fierce.

We also spent our hard-earned money on the World's Worst Barn. And I punctured the end of my big toe with a nail. Insert Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day comment here – almost.

There are definitely moments of completely suffocating overwhelm of the "what in the world have we done, we are idiots" variety. But I can't actually get myself to feel that way for very long.

Because through all the junk in our lives, the Lord has used the circumstances of where we live to teach us, to guide us, to get our attention. I trust He'll do the same through this home.

I simply cannot bring myself to be too distressed about the hot mess that is our new home because we hoped and prayed for years for this next adventure. We've lived in four different rentals in the past six years while paying off debt and looked so forward to the next house we bought. And in those moments where I secretly long for high-speed internet and that free garlic in Egypt, I'm reminded that the path to that free garlic was slavery.

And for us, we hoped for this very house, with all its quirks, all summer. For us, not owning this place would have meant staying where we were. And we were so over that.

I'm not saying I won't have my days. Just the opposite. I know I will. I'm sure I'll shed a few tears and yell at my husband and be short with my kids and curse the lack of water pressure all in the name of fixing up a house. Mark my words.

But ultimately, I hope I remember what a wonderful gift this house is and what a joy and honor it is to get to gut the kitchen and have nails and wires hanging and have the means to find a great deal on a secondhand dream stove and to have a pool even though it looks like diarrhea.

Amen.

[Judy Harder]

Missing Out
Aug 27, 2013 01:20 am | Stephanie Bryant



I praise the Lord with one hand holding my daughter, embracing all that comes with being a new mom, and with the other I grasp for more.

The more I can't hold or handle right now.

Somewhere a weed of discontent has started to grow in the dirt of my soul.

The battle is raging . . . for my peace and to darken the glow of possessing a long-awaited miracle.

I find myself checking Facebook to see what "they" are doing, wondering why I can't get my act together. 

I wonder why that cool friend of mine who just became a mom seems to know a secret I don't.


I wonder if I'll ever feel pretty again like "those people" on TV.


I wonder how "those women" are so much more creative than I.

{Nothing to complain about here but extreme tired, a closet full of pre-pregnancy clothes that don't fit and saggy boobs. {Yep, I just wrote boobs on (in)courage.} It's true. Taking a shower is a miracle with a baby. And talking to yourself is purely educational for her development, not because I get lonely in the afternoons.}

I'm loving every moment with my three-month-old daughter. I stare at her sweet face and have to pinch myself that this is real. She's finally here.

But whether you're a new mom like me, frustrated in a not-so-ideal job, dealing with a health issue, waiting on a dream to come true or just on Pinterest too often comparing your home or your kid's birthday with someone else's glossy image, you know what it feels like to miss out.

Or at least to believe you're missing out.

I'm here to tell you it's a lie. The entire concept of missing out.

You're not missing out. No ma'am. It just feels that way.

You're probably like me and think if you utilize more of your down time, become a better communicator, stay up later, have closer friendships, be a killer multitasker or get your creative juices finally flowing . . . then you'll feel better, more a part of what's happening.

"Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus." 1 Thess 5:16-18

The truth is you're right where you're supposed to be. Doing exactly what God had planned before the seas were parted from the land.

You have a purpose in your situation. You're not missing out.

You would miss out on the good plan God has for your life if you were anywhere else, doing something "more important" or trying to be special.

You would miss out on God Himself.

I would rather think I'm missing out at times than miss Him.

Join me in choosing contentment and allow God to draw near to you, right where He's placed you.





Don't You Know Who I Am?
Aug 27, 2013 01:10 am | Kacey Bess



After a couple days of attending the women's conference at our church, my hubby asked how it was going. For sure, there had been awesome moments of praise and worship and an outpouring of great messages, but somehow I felt disconnected from what everyone else seemed to be experiencing around me. You would think it'd be a time of great refreshing and recharging, but somehow I felt empty.

It made no sense, but the best I could come up with is that the conference had a different vibe. When he pressed further, I sputtered out something about it being too trendy. I could tell he was confused by this odd description, and certainly I was too.

That is, until I came across this post on the blog, Black and Married with Kids.

It all began to make sense.

Less than.

There hadn't been anything wrong with the conference. The problem was the tiny voice permeating throughout my head telling me I was less than all the other women at the conference.

It told me I didn't measure up to the ladies walking through the parking lot with their perfect hair and makeup. Or the ones sliding in the pews looking fresh off the pages of In Style magazine. And even the ones standing on the platform with their commanding knowledge of God's Word and superhero-like faith.

I couldn't connect to what was happening during the services because I was so distracted by appearances–how fabulous everyone else seemed–that I'd forgotten who I was.

When we feel the lie named "less than" creeping its way inside our head, these are the moments when we need to stand up straight, puff up our chest and shoot back with diva-like attitude–Don't you know who I am?

I am created in God's own image; in His image he created me. (Genesis 1:27)
I am fearfully and wonderfully made. (Psalms 139:14)
I am filled with all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:19)
I am the temple of God and His spirit dwells in me. (I Corinthians 3:16)
I am from God and greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world. (I John 4:4)
I am God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that I would walk in them. (Ephesians 2:10)
I am complete in Christ. (Colossians 2:10)
I am a child of God. (John 1:12)
I am a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God's own possession. (I Peter 2:9)
I am saved and called with a holy calling by God. (2 Timothy 1:9)
I am one of God's chosen. (Ephesians 1:4)
This is who I am. This is who you are.

Far too often, we give the devil free reign over our thinking. We naively fall for the lies. It's likely that the only reason that sly fool is messing with you in the first place is because he's seen your future and knows what he's up against.

Since the women's conference, I've had a chance to rewatch many of the conference sessions, and can I tell you what an amazing word I almost missed – lessons on retraining our thoughts, the power of rest and flourishing in our purpose. Good words that have rallied me to pursue my dreams even harder.

Rather than letting feelings of insignificance beat us down, we must use God's Word to boldly declare to the enemy (and perhaps even ourselves) who we really are. I assure you, it's a far cry from less than.

By Kacey Bess, Next Level Mama