(IN)Courage

[Judy Harder]

A Prayer for a Daughter
Sep 24, 2013 01:20 am | Ann Voskamp


Father who breathed into this daughter...

I pray for this girl being formed into eternity....

May the wind always be in her hair

May the sky always be wide with hope above her

And may all the hills be an exhilaration

the trials but a trail,

all the stones but stairs to God.


God, clothe this girl in a gown of grace
Grace, the only dress that makes beautiful,
the style of Your spirit.

Nourish her on the comfort food of the Word,
Word, that makes her crave more of Christ,
have hunger pangs for Him.

Enclose her in communion with You
You, Love who makes her love, who folds her heart into a roof
that absorbs storms for souls,
that makes her tongue speak only the words that make souls stronger.

May her vocation in this world simply be translation

Translating every enemy into esteemed guest
Translating every countenance into the face of Christ
Translating every burden into blessing

When it's hard to be patient... make her willing to suffer
When it's ridiculous to be thankful ... make her see all is grace
When it's radical to forgive ... make her live the foundation of our faith
And when it's time to work ... make her a holy wonder.

May she be bread and feed many with her life and her laughter
May she be thread and mend brokenness and knit hearts
May she be dead to all ladders & never go higher, only lower, to the lonely, the least & the longing
Her led of the Spirit to lead many to the Cross
that leads to the tomb wildly empty.

Oh, and raise me, Lord, from the deadness of my own sins to love this beautiful girl like You do...

In the name of Christ who rose

and appeared first

to one of His daughters...

Amen...



Q4U: What's one prayer for your daughter? What's one prayer for your daughter that has come true? How can we pray for your daughter?

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

By Ann Voskamp at A Holy Experience



Sep 24, 2013 01:10 am | Paulette Sackett



Last night I read a story from an old children's Bible. It was about Elijah the Prophet running from Jezebel. The pages showed a slightly yellowed image of a winged angel bending over Elijah as he lay weary on hard ground, a meal of bread and water set near and waiting. The story quotes Elijah from I Kings 19 when he says "It is enough! Now, LORD. . ."

Oh how I felt those words in my own soul. My eyes blurred and I struggled to finish the line.

"It is enough! Now, LORD, take my life, for I am no better than my fathers!" (vs. 4)

There's a burning ache in my heart that never leaves me. I am grieving.There have been too many losses and disappointments in too little time. Like Elijah, I want to give up, yet at the same time I desperately need God to use me, to make all this loss and struggle have purpose. "Oh God, I can bear all this if it leads to helping others know You. I can take it if I can somehow see You in it."

That's been my plea with God for more than two years now. But the light at the end of the tunnel is still dark. Several years ago I put my career on hold to follow God's call to ministry. Our family has left multiple homes and cashed out 401Ks and given up all security to serve the Lord in full-time ministry. And now my husband's promising career as a pastor is in the toilet, and he's applying his vast theological knowledge as a car salesman at the local dealership.

I swallowed hard as the tears spilled. I took a deep breath and continued aloud:

Then as he lay and slept, suddenly an angel touched him, and said to him, "Arise and eat."  . . . So he ate and drank, and lay down again. (vs. 5-6)

I connect with Elijah's disoriented exhaustion. Like him, my husband and I have "been very zealous for the Lord God of hosts." (vs. 10) All we've tried to do is serve you, Lord. What is going on? But sometimes God gives us what we need, not what we want.  Elijah wanted to die. The struggle was too great. But God did not answer his prayer. Instead He silently saw to Elijah's needs. Bread, water, rest.

I paused. I saw a shadow of the Holy Eucharist in the faded loaf on that page. I saw the rest, the passage of time, and the watchful care of God reflected in that white-winged image. The story went on to tell of a journey that led to greater ministry. But I only stared at the picture, stuck there with Elijah in that lonely, hard place of exhaustion and frustration and silent ministration.

Slowly I felt peace take root amidst the burning in my heart. I may lay weary on hard ground in my frustration and God's silence. But my God is bent over me, strengthening me with the bread of His Word and the water of His Spirit, and offering rest "under the shadow of the Almighty" (Psalm 91:1). Bread, water, rest. It may not be what I want right now, but it must be what I need for the journey ahead.

So I will eat, and drink, and lay my life down again with thanksgiving. There is more yet to come.

[Judy Harder]

Easy Meal Ideas & the Power They Hold
Sep 25, 2013 01:20 am | Jennifer Schmidt



As the crisp, fall air brushes my cheek, it marks that time of year when the hustle and bustle of my hurried schedule wreaks havoc on our family dinner time.

Making meals. Gathering for meals.

I desire to fight for that time together, yet when the 5 o'clock hour whips around that "What's for Dinner?" question often echoes through the halls, unanswered.

My internal dialogue screams, "It feels like I just made dinner. How can they be 'starving' already? Our schedules are too crazy. I can't keep up."

My mantra for meal planning convicts, "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail," and yet too often, I talk it, and I outline it on my Printable Weekly Menu Planner, but fail to execute.

Yes, breathe that sigh of relief. You're not the only one. We are on this journey together and quite frankly, dinners are always better looking on Pinterest.

For years, I taught meal planning workshops entitled, 4 Meals in 4 Minutes. I demonstrated my Power Cooking techniques and encouraged women to bring their family back around the dinner table. I'd arrive home after class exhausted and see remnants of frozen pizza wrappers. The irony was not lost on me, and I determined things had to change.

Food is a means to satisfy hunger, but mealtime holds the power to revolutionize the way families and friends connect.

Stories are sprinkled throughout scripture that center around the breaking of bread. Sharing food in a meaningful way breaks down barriers, encourages us to engage more fully with each other, and allows life-giving conversation to occur. Jesus knew this truth, and He modeled it consistently with his disciples. Meals wove throughout His ministry.

When we're committed to their importance and realize it's not about an intricate recipe created, but about the gathering, it changes how we think about food.


With five children, four of them teenagers, frozen pizzas are still a staple in our home. Unfortunately, evening dinners don't occur daily, but I prioritize the moments we do have.

When food is served, ambiance is set. We always eat by candle light, even if it's just mac and cheese, because that ambiance soothes the soul. We disengage from the outside world and share the "highs and lows" of our day, discuss something the Lord is teaching us or pull a question from our conversation starters jar.

As I attempt to steward our resources well, especially this month since I am doing a NO Spend Freezer and Pantry Challenge, eating out is the exception to our meal plans. By implementing a Power Cooking hour, I spend less time in the kitchen, and more time gathering. Creating an action plan of my quick kitchen tips, allows for many easy dinners and frees me up to enjoy meal time, rather than dread it.

1. Identity the obstacles that keep you from getting dinner on the table.

Do you love to pin recipes and mark them in magazine, but then can't find them when you need them? Create a simple Meal Solutions Notebook so that all ingredients and directions are at your fingertips.

Is this the fussy time for your children? Keep a special box of toys just for dinner time and make sure to serve them some fun "hors d'oeuvers" to tie them over until the main dish.

There is a solution for every obstacle. Identity the problem and maybe we can help in the comments.

2. Create a 10 Minute Dinners recipe list.

Poll your family and find out their favorite fast meals. Know those meals by heart and always keep those pantry staples stocked. When your day hasn't gone as planned, you have these meals ready in your repertoire. A few of our fast family favorites are Cheesy Cheddar Ranch Chicken, One Dish Baked Ziti, Asian Pork Tenderloin, Easy BBQ Crockpot Chicken, and Taco Casserole. For variety, I make sure there's a mixture of crock pot, grill, stove and oven baked recipes.


3. Spend one hour of concentrated time focused on prepping as many food items as possible.

When I first did my one-hour kitchen experiment, I attacked that hour like I would any high level executive job. I used the rice cooker, crock pot, grill, oven and even my food processor. It was multitasking mayhem as I raced to see how much I could accomplish in one hour, but realized this needed to be a weekly priority. It revolutionized my meal time.

If you only have a few minutes, begin by prepping your proteins. There's such frustration in realizing the ground beef for tonight's chili is still frozen solid. By already having the ground beef pre-cooked and divided into freezer bags, it can easily be thawed in the microwave or right in the Dump and Run Taco Soup. Chili, spaghetti, or lasagna pulls together in minutes when the meat is ready. Weekly, I cook five pounds of ground beef in the crock pot (yes, crock pot), separate them into one or two pound servings and season them accordingly for upcoming meals. I believe in working smarter, not harder.

The same principal holds true for chicken. Grill chicken in bulk or cook up ten pounds of chicken breast at once (I've even prepped 30 pounds in an hour.) Then dice, slice and/or shred the cooked chicken in seconds, and bag it up. Again, weeks of chicken meals such as  Simple Sesame Chicken, chicken salads, wraps, enchiladas, pot pies and casseroles can be ready quickly by just being intentional with that one hour of kitchen prep.

When proteins are completed, move onto veggies and carbs. By dicing onions , celery, carrots and peppers for the week, I save a lot of money and time. Salad gets washed, cut and divided. I cook, but not overcook, beans, lentils, macaroni, rice or potatoes for the fridge and freezer. Depending on my priorities for the week, I may make up Muffins, Waffles, Egg McMuffins or Egg and Cheese Puffs in bulk. Again, identify your needs and the time allotted for your Power Cooking session. It's so worth the effort.

4. Find a Friend to Journey with You


"Many hands make light work," as my father always reminded me. When a group of friends gather in community, even by holding each other accountable and working together on meal making, it turns the mundane into something magical. Some of my most enjoyable evenings have been when my friends gathered for a meal swapping time. We laughed, shared life, and went home with new meals for our families to enjoy. I knew tummies would be fed, just like my soul had been reached that evening.

Oh friends, these are just a few of the many tips I've learned to implement over the years and hopefully, this spurred on your culinary creativity. When I get organized in the kitchen, it's amazing how many other things fall into place.

Let's encourage each other in these small ways. Everyone has to eat, so let's take back that chaotic dinner hour and enjoy our time together.

I'd love to learn with you.  Might you join me in the comments?

QWhat obstacles stand in the way of your meal time? Do you have a time-saving tip that helps you in the kitchen?




by: Jen Schmidt of Balancing Beauty and Bedlam and 10 Minute Dinners

[Judy Harder]

The Almost Extinction of the Drop-In
Sep 28, 2013 01:20 am | The Nester



It had been years.

I've become so accustomed to emailing and texting and long pre-planned get-togethers on the calendar that the drop-in had become almost obsolete in my life.

Until that day when I was gifted with a drop-in visit.

Last winter I had the biggest deadline of my life. I quarantined myself, wore and slept in the same clothes for days, sent my husband and boys off on multiple three day weekend trips and got to work. I said no more often than a two-year-old and focused on one thing: my deadline. I agreed to no extracurricular activity that needed to be planned in advanced, only listened to music without words, and the dog and I spent way too much time locked up in my bedroom surrounded by empty iced coffee cups.

Then it happened. My doorbell rang. And no one was scheduled to be ringing it.

And in walked an angel and a miniature angel in the form of my friend Maria and her one-year-old adorable baby boy. They came up into the underbelly of my project – my filthy room surrounded by wrappers and imaginary crumpled up papers and stagnant air. And the baby played on the ground and smiled and flirted with me, and Maria sat on my bed and told me stories and asked me questions.

It was glorious.

It was just what I needed.

You know how when people are in the hospital and therapy animals come visit them and it actually helps? I felt like I had just had emergency friend and baby therapy. There was something about the no expectations, drop-in visit that was pure joy for me. She knew I might not be there, she knew I would be knee deep in my own mess, and that didn't matter to her.

After Maria's drop-in and the unexpected joy I felt from her visit, I made it a point to drop in on someone else – and and the timing of that drop-in was surprising, needed, and something the old, pre-Maria's-drop-in me wouldn't have felt comfortable doing.

Last month after we closed on our house, we missed a surprise drop-in and still, the very thought that Donna and Hannah drove almost an hour to surprise us almost brings me to tears. We weren't home, the back door was locked, and the dog door that leads to our back porch was open. Donna even made a video of Hannah crawling through the dog door so they could safely leave gifts of bread, a bottle of wine and flowers out of reach of the critters.

The drop-in is surprising.

The drop-in is risky.

The drop-in is lovely.

Let's not let the drop-in become extinct.

When's the last time you were the drop-inee or drop-iner? Was it worth it?





When You're Worn
Sep 26, 2013 01:20 am | Angela Nazworth



During my nearly forty years on this planet, I've traveled through several seasons of life where only one word can be used to describe my state of being: worn.

The last time I felt that way passed by just a few months ago. Nothing catastrophic was bombarding my world. I wasn't sick or clinically depressed. I was simply exhausted by an army of everyday burdens that seemed to have banded together with the mission of taking me down:

My husband and I were on a serious hunt to purchase our first home ... and we live in one of the few "seller's markets" left in the country.

As exciting as it was, a new house meant we would soon be moving again –bringing our stats up to 13 different addresses in 10 different cities, in 7 different states all in a span of 14 years.

Our six-year-old son was being bullied in school and our nine-year-old daughter cried herself to sleep every night because she dreaded the idea of moving away from the friends she had just made.

A dear loved one was battling a tremulous situation that threatened her safety.

I took on a few more responsibilities at work and was anxious to prove myself.

I was worn.

One soggy Saturday morning in May during this period of weariness, I heard my husband calling me from downstairs. I ignored him. Instead of sliding my legs across the bed so I could stand up, I pressed the right side of my face deeper into my lumpy cotton pillow. As I started to shutter the sun's rays with my blanket, I noticed the pair of black pumps I had kicked off the night before. The shoes appeared to be in decent shape when on my feet, but from my vantage point that morning, I could see that the heels on each one were falling apart. There was even a small pebble imbedded in one of the soles.

"Hmph. That's how I feel," I thought as I closed my eyes and pretended that I didn't hear my husband's calls.

I've experienced other mental and spiritual wear and tear moments that were more traumatic than the day described above. Moments when breathing required more strength than I thought my lungs could accommodate.

There have been times when the consequences trailing my own grievous mistakes smacked me breathless. Days when rejection shredded my confidence and the hurtful choices of others knocked me to the floor.

There was once even a time when I had forgotten the existence of hope because grace, mercy and redemption were hidden far underneath a trash heap of lies I had no business believing.

Have you been there? I'm guessing you have been.

When a culture brimming with deadlines, conflicting priorities, information overload, and technical connectivity is thrown smack-dab into a broken, hurt-filled world, populations of worn people become as much a fact of life as sunshine and rain.

Living is tough business because life gets messy ... even with Jesus. Sometimes, Christians don't like to admit that ... as if we'll appear less worthy if we show actual proof that we need a savior. But looking straight at our weaknesses and admitting that sometimes even the "small stuff" isn't so small is often the first step to rejuvenation.

When I'm worn ... or even showing symptoms that I am heading in that direction, I know that there are two things I need to do: 1) Pray for strength; 2) Search for truth.

The prayer doesn't need to be eloquent and verbose and the search for truth doesn't require a concordance or Greek translator; because when your spirit is threadbare, baby steps in the right direction go a long way.

Here are five scriptures that I read and reread when my spirit needs refreshing.

Romans 5:1-5

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

Romans 15:13

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Hebrews 11: 1-3

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for. By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God's command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible.

Psalm 25:5

Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior,
and my hope is in you all day long.

Psalm 119: 25-27

Cause me to understand the way of your precepts,that I may meditate on your wonderful deeds.
My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word. Keep me from deceitful ways; be gracious to me and teach me your law.

Each of those verses are precious to me in times of weariness because they are easy to digest during chaotic moments, yet are packed with the essential nutrients my soul needs to recover. They are filled with hope, encouragement and direction. And while reading these and other scriptures don't change the circumstances that wear me thin, they do strengthen my resolve.





The Unlikely Idol

Sep 26, 2013 01:10 am | Leeanne Burda



It was a normal June day full of sunshine. I had taken my then two-year-old daughter to the pool one afternoon to play. As she played in the water I noticed her paddling with her face in the water like we had just practiced in her swim lessons. "She's doing great," I thought to myself. A few seconds went by and I realized she wasn't bringing her head out of the water.

I went to her and picked her up out of the water and her eyes had rolled back in her head. Her little body was limp. I started beating her back. The lifeguard came to me. After a few seconds water came out of her mouth and she starting coughing. She was okay.

How did I miss her being in distress? I was 12 inches away from her in the water.

How did the lifeguard miss it when there were two kids in the entire pool? Why? How? I remember tucking her into bed that night and thinking, "How will I ever get over this visual in my head?"

For one year, every day and many nights, I would wake up panicked over that event. My children's safety became a deep fear for me that I couldn't even fully articulate to my husband. I suffered deeply over guilt of the accident and fear of what could happen next.  The closer we got to spring the next year, the more anxious I became.

One Sunday I was home from church with our newborn and my husband gave me a summary of the Sunday sermon. He told me that our Pastor spoke about giving the Lord the praise for everything in your life. Many times we suffer in the 'what ifs' and 'what could have happened' instead of seeing the provision and protection of the Lord. At that very moment I felt this wave of conviction come over me.

I knew at that point I had made my children's safety an idol. I was steeped deep in a sin that was all consuming and it had shackled me down for over a year. "Dear children, keep yourselves from idols" (1 John 5:21) filled my heart.

Safety and healthy fear is not necessarily a bad thing. I teach my children to fear running into the street because a car could hurt them. We lock our doors to our home as a proper level of safety for our family.  But what began to happen in my life, based on my painful experience, was that no one could protect or care for my children but me.

I became so convinced of this that I even didn't trust my husband. One day I started crying when he was going to take them on a bike ride. I gave him a list of five or six things he had to do to make sure nothing happened to them. In a gentle way he said to me, "Don't you know I would lay down my life for them? You have to stop this." But I didn't stop and it got worse. I cut the Lord out of this area of my life and it felt very dark.  Tim Keller summarizes an idol best in his book, Counterfeit Gods:

"It is anything more important to you than God, anything that absorbs your heart and imagination more than God, anything you seek to give you what only God can give. A counterfeit god is anything so central and essential to your life that, should you lose it, your life would feel hardly worth living. An idol has such a controlling position in your heart that you can spend most of your passion and energy, your emotional and financial resources, on it without a second thought." (Taken from Tim Keller's Counterfeit Gods)


I didn't see my own self-dependence growing until my husband shared the sermon details with me that day and the Holy Spirit penetrated my heart. I immediately confessed my sin before the Lord and asked Him to give me a spirit of gratitude for protecting my daughter. All I thought about the previous year was, "Why did that have to happen" instead of, "Thank you, Jesus, for protecting her."

My heart immediately changed and for the first time in a year I didn't wake up thinking about it. I had renewed confidence in my husband and others entrusted to care for her. I gave that area over to the Lord and He freed me.

My heart's cry began like Psalm 51:1-4 but in God's great compassion and mercy, my heart began to sing a new song of praise just like from Psalm 40:1-5.

Do you have an idol in your life? God can free you from it and give you victory. He restores all things!

[Judy Harder]

A Sunday Scripture

Friends love through all kinds of weather,
and families stick together in all kinds of trouble.
Proverbs 17:17 (The Message)




For When Your Child Feels Out of Control (and You Do, Too)
Sep 28, 2013 01:20 am | Sarah Mae



The movie was almost over when my sweet little girl fell asleep in my arms.

I looked at my other children and gave them the "shhh..." lips as I attempted to gently lift myself and carry my girl to her bed. As I tugged gently on the blankets and pillows surrounding me, her eyes opened. I picked her up and carried her up the steps heading toward her room.

"No mama, I'm not tired, I don't want to go to bed."

"Yes, honey, it's bedtime. I'm going to carry you to bed and lie down with you."

And then,

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The wriggling began.

The screaming, the crying, the desperation in her body for me to let her go...she started acted crazy.

But I know this, and I've seen it before, and I know she is just so tired. She is not being bad, or disobedient; her body is acting out. Her little self is a mess as she is between sleep and awake, and her brain is fumbling to figure out which it wants to be in.

I put her in her bed and sit next to her. She yells at me, tells me go, tells me she wants to get up. She is sweating, and kicking.

I close her blinds, turn on her fan, and close the door with me inside her room.

I lay my head down close to hers, and I just say, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay."

More kicking, arms flailing, more shouts.

"It's okay, honey." I rub her head.

And just when I think she will never settle down, I decide to start singing.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound..."

Five seconds doesn't go by and her mouth closes with her eyes. She leans into me, tucks her head in between the pillow and my cheek, and wraps her arm around me.

I keep singing.

Her breathing slows, and she is going deep.

I wait a few minutes, rubbing her head, nuzzling into her hair, and then I say quietly, "I'm going to go tuck in your brother and sister." She nods, and sinks into a final sleep.

I get up, go out, and thank God for the delight that is my little girl. That precious one who just needs her mama when she feels out of control.

That girl, she's a lot like me.

There are days I feel out of control, anxious, frozen by the day ahead of me. I start to panic. Can I make it through my day?

And then, as soft as a breeze on my face, I feel it. I feel the Spirit inside me calming my anxious heart, reminding me that I am not alone, that He is with me, keeping me tucked in close as He sings over me.

I can make it, I'm okay. And my little girl, she's okay, too. We're going to make it.

No matter how out-of-control we feel, or how desperate, or how overwhelming life feels sometimes, we have a Father who is close, and kind, and gentle, and who will never leave us.

In fact, He delights over us.

Today, in the midst of whatever anxiety surrounds you, meditate on these words...

The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.
Zephaniah 3:17, ESV

And if you time, take a few minutes and let your soul worship:

[Judy Harder]

An Encouragement To Daughters
Sep 30, 2013 01:20 am | Robin Dance



And if one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him.
A cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart.
~ Ecclesiastes 4:12



For all but the first four months of high school, I had a boyfriend.

It was a tumultuous thing, this teenage romance, full of all the drama and conflict of an 80s John Hughes film. Break-ups. Make-ups. Cheatin' hearts. Both of us.

I remember practice-writing my married name a thousand times – my first and his last – and I even set our wedding date for September 17, 1985 (I liked that date for no particular reason at all). As fate and young love would have it, we went our separate ways by college and eventually lost touch altogether.

Years later, when I heard "our song" begin to play at our ten-year class reunion – The Commodores' Three Times a Lady – I asked my husband of then eight years if he minded if I asked my old beau to dance. He was fine with it, but my friend declined–his wife didn't approve.

It was the last time I saw him.

* * * * * ** *

The way I see it there are two ways to live with regret:
1)  To be bound by it, anchored to your past, where your history informs your present and you're too paralyzed to move forward (negative and unproductive).

2)  When you recognize if you were given the chance to go back in time and make different decisions, understanding then what you know now, you likely would. It doesn't mean you're continuously beating yourself up over it; you simply have the benefit of knowing the consequences of your past decisions and realizing there was a better choice you could have made.

Unless you happen to end up marrying your high school sweetheart, maintaining a close friendship with him after marriage probably isn't the best idea. Conversely, your relationships with your girlfriends are something you can hold onto always and forever.

This, among several reasons, is why we encouraged our children to pursue friendship with members of the opposite sex when they reached high school. While we didn't forbid dating, we discouraged it by encouraging group outtings and spending time with their friends.

Our oldest made this easy; early on she made the decision not to date/have a boyfriend in high school.

My daughter was so different from the girl I was in high school and I admired her for so many reasons:

reserved and resolved, she was a young woman with strong convictions. Her faith was growing, evidences noticeable in part by her concern for others. She was determined and compassionate and spoke truth into the lives around her. And her inner beauty magnified her outer.

For those reasons and so many more, I thought all the boys in her school were dirt dumb and bat blind not to be chasing after her regardless of her decision not to have a boyfriend (it's not like she broadcast it).

Her two best friends made the same decision regarding dating anyone seriously in high school. Rather than dealing with the kind of relational drama common to many (and to myself during that same season), they invested in their friendship.

Those three cords were strong and beautiful.
Observing their friendship I realized something special I had missed out on by the choices I had made.



* * * * * * * * * *

One day this summer the three girls were home from college spending the night at our house. It was during a conversation with them that I realized they were questioning some of their choices back in high school – did their decision not to date anyone even matter? Had it all been for nothing, assuring a naïveté about the opposite sex that didn't really serve them?

And so with the strongest conviction I could muster, I told them no!  It was not for nothing!


Making a counter-culture decision and sticking with it is one of most mature, challenging and protective choices you can make for yourself.
Not getting seriously involved with a guy...

spared them the teenage drama and heartache typically associated with on-again/off-again relationships.

protected them from temptations that are so difficult to resist, sometimes you give in to what you never thought you would.

fortified their friendships with one another and strengthened their friendships in general.

I wanted them to understand how rare that decision is and that it set them apart in a beautiful way. That what they may lack in experience with the opposite sex is really no set back at all and that the right guy will not only understand but will value that choice.

I told them if I could go back to high school knowing then what I know now, I would never have dated a guy all four years; I would have invested my time and energy and affections into friendships that could last a lifetime.



* * * * * * * * *

My in-laws were babies when they fell in love at 14 and 15. High school sweethearts who married in college, over 50 years later their affections still sizzle. I adore that kind of love story. I also have friends who have remained in touch with the fella they dated in high school.

In other words, I recognize not everyone's choices and circumstances align neatly with what I'm suggesting, and that's just fine! I would never presume a "one size fits all" approach to personal conviction.

My prayer, my purpose, is simply to encourage.
This is a love letter to the girls who've never dated; to those who have never been asked out and to those who were asked and declined. To the wallflowers or late bloomers or girls who made intentional choices.

Whatever your case, this is a gift.
Choice and circumstance has protected your heart and maybe even your body, and allowed you time to invest in other relationships and interests. It's given you time to grow up and mature in your faith.

It's not something ever to regret.

Q.  I bet opinions are all over the place with this one; care to share yours?  Or your wisdom, encouragement or experience?  I'd love to hear.

~ Robin Dance

[Judy Harder]

Jesus In the Loveliness
Oct 01, 2013 01:10 am | Heather Caliri



{Photo by Viviana Ga}
I had about a half-hour to spend time with God.

My two children, three and six, were happy in front of a video. For now.

To be a mother is to hurry, but it was Sunday, and the sky was a swirl of white on blue. We'd recently moved back to our hometown after six months abroad. We now had a yard—green grass, an archway of bougainvillea and a lime tree.

The apartment we'd just left in Buenos Aires was lovely, but its balcony narrow, with a view of buses and a Laundromat.

Looking at the sky, I decided: I will sit outside with God. I will make a pot of tea. I will read the Bible.

I have gone through periods of my life where I sit regularly with God and Scripture, and times where I do not. Sometimes I couldn't, because the devotional had become a litmus test I used to measure whether I was worthy.

Sometimes, it took not reading the Word for a while to remember that God is the one who is worthy.

But lately when I read the Bible, I feel like a child, learning to sit still with her Daddy. Learning the family history and realizing that I'm continuing its stories.

So I put the red kettle on the stove and turned on the burner, watched the coil grow as orange as a poppy.

Then, in the living room, I heard my children shift. One of them whined at the other.

The video would now end in twenty-eight minutes, since I'd taken time for tea. And that's if they didn't wander off, need anything, or fight.

I eyed the pot. Perhaps I could do without the tea? It would be faster. I would have more time with Jesus.

The guilt rose. I didn't want to put off the Bible reading until the last few minutes of the show, squeezing Jesus into them. It was a day of spaciousness, and I wanted there to be enough time for him.

The kettle hissed at me.


{Photo by Shardayyy}
Help, Lord, I said.

And in the midst of the anxiety, the answer came.

There was enough time for the kettle. Enough time for tea. There was enough time because Jesus was there with me in the kitchen as I prepared for the Bible. Jesus was there as I lifted the kettle off the burner and filled the pot. He held hands with me as I selected a tea bag. He carried me as I carried the pot and my Bible outside.

He was there, now, and I couldn't possibly squeeze him out. Because he's in the loveliness as much as he is in the reading of His Word.

It is hard for me, a perfectionist, to learn how to be with Jesus. It is hard for me to know this wanderer who meandered with no to-do list. The one who said, "Beautiful," to the woman who wasted the nard. The one who kept telling his greatness-obsessed followers to become like children.

My children cannot be hurried when they are enjoying something.

I took a deep breath and sat in the blessed shade. The teapot steamed, and I found I was looking with anticipation at the Bible. I wanted to approach it with a soft heart, with a playful spirit, and with the hope that I will never need to hide from it again.

I am trying to learn to savor God's Word, to savor the time I spend in it, and to find God in everything beautiful.

[Judy Harder]

Life as a Choose Your Own Adventure Book
Oct 02, 2013 01:20 am | Mary Carver



You know how, sometimes, when you're talking with a friend for a long time, you can end up talking about something so random, so unrelated to your original topic that you can't help but say, "How on earth did we get HERE?"

I love trying to think back and remember which rabbit trails and diversions landed us smack in the middle of, "Remember that time we took the road trip and lost your car?" when we started the conversation with, "How's the family?" It's as fun as working backward to figure out when I first met a friend or started reading a blog or heard about something or someone that used to be new.

It's interesting and kind of fun to see how one twist, one turn can so drastically change a conversation, a relationship, a life.

—————-

Did you ever read those Choose Your Own Adventure books? I did. Loved them. But I'm not sure I read them the way they were designed to be read.

See, every time I had to make a choice, I either dog-eared the page (sorry, librarians) or simply kept my finger in that spot. That way I could go back after reading one scenario and see what would happen if I took that other road. I liked keeping my options open.

Who am I kidding? I still like keeping my options open.

—————-

After working in my first post-college job for nearly a year, I left to start graduate school. But after one semester I knew that program wasn't right for me at that time, and I resigned my assistantship. My former employer hadn't replace me yet, so after what I jokingly referred to as my sabbatical, I returned to my job.

I'd kept my finger in that spot and went back for a do-over.

So many times since then I've wondered about that string of decisions. Should I have finished graduate school? I never ended up earning my master's degree, after all. Should I have resisted the temptation to return to my job I loved so much? It was never the same after that.

Later I left the ad agency I worked at for a supposedly better position at another, supposedly better agency. It WAS a good job at a good company – but it wasn't for me. My manager was amazing – brilliant, hardworking, on her way up, and willing to mentor young women like myself. I could see that if I stayed there, learning about things I wasn't interested in and working more hours than I was paid for, I would become just like her.

That wasn't a bad thing, but it wasn't what I truly wanted for my life. Later, when I was laid off from what I thought would be my dream job full of meaning and accomplishment and work-life balance (is that even a thing?!), I wondered if maybe I'd gotten it wrong.

I could worry myself down that track for all sorts of experiences.

What if I hadn't joined my friends for that church plant (that failed)?
What if I hadn't shared my heart with that friend who misunderstood me?
What if we hadn't bought this house? Or opened that credit card?
What if we hadn't taken that trip? Or started that project?

But the thing is . . . life isn't a choose your own adventure story. We don't get to go back, to do life over, to change our minds, to choose a different adventure.

Or . . . can we?

—————-

Well, not exactly. We can't turn back the clock, change history, or – in most cases – get back that job we gave up. We can't spend our lives regretting our choices, wishing we'd chosen other paths, longing for do-overs.

Life is no choose your own adventure book.

But our God promises to forgive our pasts, our mistakes, our sins. And then? His mercies are fresh – brand new – every morning. And we can rest easy in the peace of a God who has plans – good plans – for us, a God who removes our sins as far as the east is from the west.

And then? Then we can be still and ask Him, "What's our next adventure?"

By Mary, who's spending the 31 days of October giving up on fairy tales – even the kind where you choose your own ending.

[Judy Harder]

We Will Reap A Harvest
Oct 03, 2013 01:20 am | Jennifer Studio JRU



The crop dust fills the air as the combine goes by for another round. I sit and wait for there to be a good stopping point to hand over a quick lunch in the field. With a full heart, I watch my family harvest. It nearly takes my breath away.

I think about the blood, sweat and tears that is in each crop. I can't help but think about the incredible faith it takes to be this caretaker of God's land.

The watching and waiting for all those little seeds. The praying for rain in years when the crops have all but dried up. The praying for no more rain in the years when the fields sit under water for weeks at a time. The praying that nothing more will break down when they are in the middle of planting or harvest and don't have time to stop to fix a tractor or run for a part. The countless hours of work, from sun up and often until well after that sun goes down. They never give up.

What a crazy way of life, but it is what we know. God chose my family to farm... to be caretakers of the land. What an honor.

This autumn month has brought with it the harvest season. There was a time to plant. There was a time to wait patiently with faith. Now is the time to harvest. Harvest always comes.


I think this verse is such a beautiful reminder of harvest for each of us.

Don't give up when the journey seems overwhelming.

Don't give up when your prayers have not yet been answered.

In due time we will reap. Maybe not on our timeline, but in God's own time. We will reap a harvest as long as we persevere. The fruits will be seen and enjoyed in their time. God's blessings overflow!

I would love to share this reminder of harvest with each of you. You can click on the image {a free 5″x7″ PDF printable} and you will be able to open or download it, to then print and use in your own home. Personal use only, please. For those that ask, the print is also available in my shop in an 8×10 size.

In this beautiful autumn season of harvest, how does God just take your breath away?

Created just for you, by Jennifer at StudioJRU.






When Your Bench Represents Pain

Oct 03, 2013 01:10 am | Amy Clary



Community with women can be hard. We're all a jumble of big hearts, emotions, and minds that can remember a long list of wrongs. Some of us approach community with no reserve and others are cautious. Still, we build these places in faith and long for community.

I recently spent time praying for and encouraging someone I know. Her story is one where hurt feelings led her to isolation...and isolation led to hurt feelings as she shooed her community off her bench. While she shared her story with me, I saw her locked away in a secret garden. She had Jesus with her, but had built up walls around her to keep people out.

The sad part is she didn't see the walls of her own secret garden until I gently shed some light on them. And after she ran her hands along the ivy grown on garden walls, feeling the grit of brick below, something in her broke and she was ready to find the door and open it up again.

"I've dusted off my bench and invited her back in" she said in conversation about a friend.

And I prayed. Oh, how I prayed that the invitation would be received well.

But it wasn't.

This bench proved to be too hard to return to. Years upon years of being kept away from it made it painful to even consider...hard to trust.

Life gets gray sometimes, and in that haze we can say or do things that hurt those we've shared a bench with. Suddenly, that welcoming and cozy place can become one that represents pain for those who were hurt.

What now? What do we do with a bench that triggers memories of pain?

In her offering this situation to God, He gently spoke to my friend's heart. "A bench beyond repair won't safely hold community. It's time to build a new one." He encouraged her to begin again, reaching out of isolation for hands to pull her back into community. Then, He perfectly placed hands to hold hers and helped her create a new bench.

She's still prayerful for the restoration of that friendship, an acceptance to her invitation and forgiveness for years of pushing away. I'm praying for that for her, too. But in the meantime, she's learning not to isolate. She's learning to trust God's design of community and knows that isolation only brings more isolation.

Can I encourage you today? If you're finding yourself in the same position as my friend, it's time. It's time to pray and ask God to show you where the walls are in your garden. Ask Him to show you where the key is to the door and then leave the door to that secret, guarded place open. The bricks in the walls are made of the things too hard to admit or too embarrassing to apologize for. They are the "whys" and that's what you need to discover. It's time to let Him heal your heart. It's time to trust Him and His people again, building a new bench and reaching out for hands to hold yours.

God means to restore community for you. He means to take that part of you that you've turned into isolation and turn it for His glory and your good. He means to help you finish the race well with friends who are bosom buddies; girls you can giggle with and love on and cry with. His idea of community is beautiful and trustworthy and all about you. You can trust that.

[Judy Harder]

showing myself a little kindness
Oct 05, 2013 01:20 am | Lisa Leonard



My plane landed at 9:30 pm Sunday night. That's 12:30 am on the East Coast and since I'd been soaking up time with my {in}courage sisters all weekend, I had quickly adapted to the different time zone.

I was tired, but determined to make progress toward home. It's a three-hour drive from the Los Angeles airport to our home in San Luis Obispo. I grabbed a coffee, picked up my luggage, hugged my traveling partner good-bye and merged onto the 405 freeway north.

I traveled for a couple hours and started to feel the dark night wooing me to sleep. The smartest thing to do was to stop and get a hotel room, even if only for a few hours of much-needed rest. I pulled off the freeway in Carpinteria, a tiny beach town and checked into a hotel. As I settled into the bed, I felt my body relax and sleep came quickly.

I set my alarm for 6:00 am and as soon as it went off, I hopped out of bed, anxious to get on the road again. I threw on clothes, zipped up my suitcase and grabbed another cup of coffee as I headed out of the hotel and into the parking lot. My keys were already in my hand and I clicked the button to unlock the car.

Nothing happened. I clicked again. And nothing happened. A feeling of dread mixed with panic swept over me. Oh no. No. Ugh.

The car was dead. I figured I must have left the lights on the night before. I was tired and in a hurry to get out of the car. I called AAA and sat down on the curb to wait.

"I'm such an idiot," I told myself.

"I'm so stupid!" I repeated in my head.

Over and over I called myself names and berated myself for my mistake.

If you were there with me and it was your car, I would have told you, "No big deal!"

I'm sure I'd remind you it only set us back half an hour. I would have hugged you and told you not to be so hard on yourself. It was just a small, simple mistake.

But for myself I had no grace, only harsh words and criticism.

I began to wonder, at that early hour, how my perspective would change if I was gentler with myself. What if I showed myself kindness?

"It's okay," I whispered to myself.

"It could happen to anyone," I told my self comfortingly

The sun began to peek over the hillside and cast a soft glow through the trees. I exhaled. The glow of the morning light was breathtaking. Maybe I would have missed the sunrise if I hadn't had to wait for the tow truck to come start my car.


Within a half hour I was on the road, heading towards my family. My head was filled with thoughts of how imperfect life is, and how there is still beauty to be found. I am flawed and yet, I can show myself kindness. I make mistakes, but there is forgiveness.

It's okay to be kind to myself. I want to be gracious instead of critical. Isn't that how Christ is with us?

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. His mercies never come to an end.
They are new every morning. Great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23

Where can you show yourself some kindness today? Where can you replace criticism with grace and forgiveness?

[Judy Harder]

He says, "Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth."
Psalm 46:10