(IN)Courage

[Judy Harder]

When You Get to Turn the Chair Around
Jun 04, 2012 01:20 am | Holley Gerth


The endless blue sky stretched above us. "Let's sit on the patio for lunch," my husband said as we settled in at our favorite pizza place. I chose the seat looking outward, over the low fence and ahead into the world. I couldn't see anyone but my husband next to me.

A few minutes later he leaned in and whispered, "The table of women behind us is reading your book." I slapped his hand playfully and said, "No, they're not." He repeated, "Really, they're reading your book." (This isn't the first time I've mistaken truth for teasing. I did the same thing when he proposed. But that's another story.)

I tried to casually glance over my shoulder without looking like a stalker and sure enough, a table of about twelve women had my book spread out in all directions. I could barely make out underlines and highlights, hear a little of the laughter and intensity in their conversation over what God was speaking to their hearts.

I turned back and sat still, stunned. Soon a grin spread across my face and happy tears filled my eyes.

Because this is how we go through life, isn't it?

We try to be obedient. We take our place at the table with Jesus. We love Him.

But we don't always get to really see the results. We don't always know the impact.

And as I sat there, it seemed He whispered to my heart, "Heaven is when you get to turn the chair completely around."

Right now I type away at a keyboard a lot of the time. It's good and I'm so grateful. It's just that sometimes it's hard too. Sometimes it's lonely. Sometimes I wonder if it matters.

I imagine the same is true for you in whatever you're called to do–being a mama, running a company, volunteering, you know what that thing is for you.

So I want to lean in and whisper to you, "Dear Sister, trust that there is more than you can see. Trust that what you're doing makes a difference. Trust that one day you will get to turn the chair around and see fully."

Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. I Cor. 13:12

Until then, God gives us little glimpses. Just like my husband did as he whispered a quiet word or two about what those women were doing that I couldn't see. We smiled together, the two of us. And I think God smiles with us as we sit with Him at the table of life too.

Eventually our pizza was gone and it was the moment. Time to turn the chair around completely and see. And it was the most beautiful sight. Women of all ages and races. The body of Christ.

I fidgeted. I began to sweat. And just before they thought about calling security, I finally stammered out an awkward, "Um, hey, I wrote that book." Then before I knew it I had hugs thrown around my neck.

It felt like a welcome home.

And I tasted for a moment what it would like to really be Home. Sweet Joy.

Seeing the unseen. Knowing and touching and feeling what it means to be a small part of the very big work God is doing in the world.

You may not be able to see the difference that you're making, the lives you're touching, the joy you're bringing. But it's there. It's real. It's truer than true. So sit at that table with Jesus. Do what He says. Give Him your life and hold nothing back. Let Him give you glimpses of glory.

Then one day He'll whisper the words, "It's time to turn the chair around, Daughter." And you'll see, really see.

Then we'll rejoice fully in what He's done together.

Forever.

Woo-hoo!

– Holley Gerth, author of You're Already Amazing

[Judy Harder]

When Nothing is All You Have to Give
Jun 05, 2012 01:20 am | Kristen Welch


You can't do this. You can't do this. You can't do this.

The words taunt, my eyes fill, heart pounding, red creeps up my neck.

A knock on the door, a lady presents a lapel microphone and instructs me like I'm Somebody. I push it away and ask to stand hidden behind the podium and the thousand eyes waiting for me to inspire them.

"I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this," I try to sound lighthearted as she closes the door.

I can't even breathe. My inadequacy fills the room.



My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, I crack at my husband's calm voice more than a thousand miles away.

"I can't do this," I say it out loud, I'm holding back a flood.

"Why?" he says gently

I whisper "Because I have nothing left to give."

He knew how challenging our week had been. He knew how inadequate we both felt during this season of hard parenting. He knew how exhausted I was, he knew he held me the night before as we prayed over our children and gave them back to God again. And he knew what to say:

"That's exactly what you need to say when you walk out on that stage in the next 5 minutes. That's why you must do this. These women don't need to hear that you have it all together and have got this mothering thing down. They need to know you're just like them. They need to see your struggle and know you're real. They don't need to hear from you; they need to hear from Him."

He put me on hold and I took a long, deep breath. We ended the call with my children praying over me. It was a holy moment hearing their voices lifting me up to our Father.

And so that's what I did: I gave them all I had, which was actually nothing.

It was in my emptiness that He moved. He encouraged thru my brokenness. He asked for my all and my nothing was enough.

It's in our weakness, He is made strong.

Maybe when you reach down deep, you come up empty or maybe you give to everyone else and have nothing left for yourself. I'm willing to bet if you're a mother, wife or a busy woman, wearing a multitude of hats, you have days where you run on empty.

So go ahead, give Him your nothing. His hands are open, ready to receive it.

But step back, girl, because when you aren't enough, He is.

by Kristen Welch, We are THAT family


A Pocket Full of Rocks
Jun 05, 2012 01:10 am | Amanda Ledford




Conner almost always come home from school with rocks in his pockets. His teachers have actually started getting on to him about this. Haha. He always tells them,

"I have to get some for my mommy. "

Why he feels the need to bring me rocks every day? I don't know..but I think it's sweet. I could probably fill up a giant pickle jar with the little rocks he has brought me if I kept them all. I asked him one day why he chose the certain rocks that he did and he said,

"I just did."

Sometimes he says they are shiny or cool...and sometimes they are ugly and dirty...but he presents them in a way as if they are so beautiful. Like I am going to be so enthralled at the beauty of these rocks. Besides the fact that they are from Conner–there is nothing particularly special about them. But Conner thinks so.

I found myself the other day asking God what He could be showing me through Conner giving me these rocks every day. Its pretty neat how God can speak to us through simple things as this.

My answer was this: You are beautiful. I chose you. My grace is sufficient.

I have been reading a book called Made To Crave and its about satisfying our cravings with God instead of other things. So far it's a pretty good book and ventures through other things that people use like drugs, food, and other addictions. I've struggled with the way I view myself–in probably every way–spiritually, physically, etc. Letting myself believe that I'm not good enough..I don't do enough of something...and on and on with these negative tapes in my head...letting others steal the joys of my talents and passions. And making myself believe things that are not true. Lets just say –Satan knows exactly what to do to get me down. But in reading the book this passage has stuck out to me the most–

"I've found my beautiful. And I like my beautiful. I don't have to hold my beautiful up to others with a critical eye of judgment. Like Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not."

God chose me. He loves me. I wasn't a perfect and smooth rock when he found me–I was broken and cracked..yet he still thought I was beautiful.

Today at church there was a man that was baptized. He did not go to our church–he was trying to catch a bus across the street and the station happened to be closed. So, he decided to come in and attend the service. Through the service he accepted Christ and got Baptized—forget the bus ride-he found Jesus! He wants that man to find his beautiful and experience Love too. He wants us to find our beautiful.

He wants me to stop and look at my "beautiful" and embrace it instead of trying to find it in other things. He even tries to show me through simple things like Conner bringing me rocks. So now, every time Conner brings me rocks from play time or when I hear the clanging in the dryer from escaped rocks out of his pockets.. I am reminded..

You are beautiful. I chose you. My grace is sufficient.
My prayer is that you will see and hear God's beauty in simple things and remember these words too.

Be brave.

By: Amanda Ledford

[Judy Harder]

You're Right, Christian Women {and (in)courage Writers} Aren't Immune From Cliques

Jun 06, 2012 01:20 am | Lisa-Jo


The last time I really dressed up to impress a man was probably a decade ago when Peter and I were still in the do-you-notice-me-not-noticing-you-noticing-me phase.  The last time I dressed up to impress another woman was yesterday morning when I painstakingly blow-dried my hair before escorting a group of preschoolers on a field trip to the farm.

To. The. Farm.

Micah's teacher is the opposite of me in every way. She is petite and effortlessly fashionable with truly great hair. So 7:30am found me determined to tame my own unruly mane. There may also have been eyeliner and a cute purse involved.

No one can make us quite as unsure about ourselves as another woman.



We can stand knee deep in witty conversation holding cup cakes in one hand and our cell phones with brilliant Twitter commentary in the other only to retreat to hotel rooms and whisper in quiet tears to our roommate how left out we felt.

We want to matter to the people we think matter.

Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him. "Teacher," they said, "we want you to do for us whatever we ask."

"What do you want me to do for you?" he asked.

They replied, "Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory."

We want them to want to room with us.

We want them to want to read what we wrote.

We want them to want to share bits of themselves with us that they don't share with anyone else.

We want them to invite us in.


Into the shared secrets and secret Facebook groups. Into the late night conversations and group blogging communities. Into the vacation, beach house getaways and photos of sunsets on the beach.

Into the conferences and ad campaigns, into the Skype calls and mom's groups, into the planning committees and vacation plans.

We want in.



Left on the wrong side of the door I can regress into a third grade version of myself in mere minutes.

Lisa-Jo the too tall. Lisa-Jo the awkward. Lisa-Jo the sticky-out-eared-teenager.
Lisa-Jo the too loud. Lisa-Jo the too much mom-talk, too much South African, too much opinion.

There is a voice that whispers all the reasons we deserve to be out.

There is a voice that taunts.

There is a voice that remorselessly lists every time we've found ourselves on the outside and revels in each remembering.

There is a voice that will hypnotize if we let it. That will poison and paralyze our friendships by focusing on the moments when we felt excluded.

The quest of the Inner Ring will break your hearts unless you break it.

~C.S Lewis, "The Inner Ring," Memorial Lecture at King's College, University of London, 1944.


Blink.

Blink and see it's a mirage.

The illusion that there's an inner circle we've been left out of; the lie that we've been left out on purpose.

We're built for friendship, yes. We have community in our bones. And when we're desperate and blinded by the taunting mirage of the inner circle we will drink the sand- angry, gritty, bitter and confused.

When the ten heard about this, they became indignant with James and John.

Jesus called them together and said, "You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."

We can fight to find a way in or we can love on the women where we're at.

We can obsess over who didn't talk to us or we can focus on the woman we're talking to.

We can keep looking for a seat at a more popular table or we can pass the bread basket and an introduction to the women sitting right where we already are.

And if in your spare time you consort simply with the people you like, you will again find that you have come unawares to a real inside:

that you are indeed snug and safe at the center of something which, seen from without, would look exactly like an Inner Ring.

But the difference is that its secrecy is accidental, and its exclusiveness a by-product, and no one was led thither by the lure of the esoteric: for it is only four or five people who like one another meeting to do things that they like.

This is friendship. Aristotle placed it among the virtues. It causes perhaps half of all the happiness in the world, and no Inner Ring can ever have it.

~C.S Lewis, "The Inner Ring," Memorial Lecture at King's College, University of London, 1944.

Everyone is on the outside of something. But that is only half the story.

We are all on the inside of something often without even realizing it.



Do you see?

Blink.

Do you see them? Your people.

Look around.

Wipe the mirage out of your eyes.

Now, who do you see?

::

By Lisa-Jo, community manager of (in)courage and cheerleader for kind words

[Judy Harder]

Kindness Matters
Jun 07, 2012 01:20 am | Jennifer


My husband had just come out of a nearly 13 hour brain surgery and was in intensive care. I had left the room and my mom stayed with him while I was gone. Years later, he still remembers a comforting touch from her. She said no words, no words were needed. It was the simple comfort from a touch that made a difference in that moment. In a time of pain, the comfort a caring touch brought was a gift.



Have you ever taken an extra moment to ask a co-worker how they are?

Have you ever just been there for a hurting friend?

Have you ever been supportive to someone when no one else was supporting?

Have you ever taken the time to notice someone's hard work and thank them?

Have you ever taken the time to pray for someone?

Have you ever listened attentively to someone when they needed to talk?

Do you know what you did mattered? I mean really mattered?

Do you know you could have changed a life? With a few words, with your actions, with listening, with praying. You could have been the one voice in their life at that moment that they needed to hear to change everything for them. You could have been the one person whose support encouraged them to keep going. You could have been the one person to help them see the love of Jesus. Do you know it could be something they will remember the rest of their life? It could be a defining moment in their life.

What would happen if on those days, just because it was little and you didn't think it would matter, you chose to not do your act of kindness? What if it was left undone?

"Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." Matthew 25:40

Your actions and your words and your prayers and your love matters. Your kindness matters. It matters to those who receive it. Most important... it matters to HIM. He sees. He knows.

He will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them. Hebrews 6:10

We may not be able to help everyone, but we can all help someone. No act of kindness is too small. It all matters. We would love to hear an act of kindness that made a difference for you?

By Jennifer, StudioJRU



Trusting from the Right Position
Jun 07, 2012 01:10 am | Abby Aranzamendez





Trusting God is something that I can confidently say I do. I've been trusting God ever since I knew He can be trusted. Yet how easily I freak out when difficult situations, from which I think I need immediate rescuing, turn even more dim and hopeless. I whine, panic, and doubt. I want to see God's hands now—and quick. When I don't see things changing, I go out of my way to turn things around myself.

No, I'm not moving ahead of God. I'm just doing my part, I reason.

But God makes me realize my trust is superficial. I'm just trusting with my head. Sure, this kind of trust gives me a sense of peace. After all, wouldn't it be comforting when your head tells you, "Yeah, I've got that trusting part covered?" But when things get more difficult to handle, head-based trust doesn't stand up to the test. Soon, it expires.

We know we're trusting with our heads when we try to manipulate things—and yes, even control God—into meeting our prayers. So in the end, trusting with just our heads is not trusting at all.

Proverbs 3:5 tells us to trust the Lord with all our hearts. And only from the position of the heart can we fully trust God. It is internalized and reflected through actions, or sometimes even inaction. It is about relinquishing control of situations and being still while carefully tuning in to God and listening to His directions.

What I learned about God is that His voice is small, soft, and peaceful. So when the voice in my head is loud, has a timbre of worry, and prompts me to do things quick, I know that is not God speaking. And I know I've not been trusting from the right position.

What does trusting God with the heart look like? Quite simply, it looks like the familiar trust fall game. Difficult situations push and make us fall to the ground. But heart-based trust is aware that God has our back. It tells us that even though we don't know how He's going to catch us or how fast He's going to do so, He won't let us touch the ground.

Head-based trust is confident that God can pull off a perfect rescue operation. But it requires all the details of God's plans to make us still. When it doesn't have full knowledge of the details—and God never makes all the details known—its confidence diminishes. Eventually it will talk us into getting on with our own plans.

Head-based trust is impatient. It illuminates our weakness and the urgency of the situation. But heart-based trust builds up our confidence and strength while we wait on God. And certainly, it knows that something supernatural is accomplished as we go through uncomfortable, painful situations.

Head-based trust is short-lived. Heart-based trust can see us through the night and into the morning.

Friends, it's time to check ourselves. Are we trusting from the right position?

By Abby Aranzamendez, a life chronicler at Journal the Sojourn

[Judy Harder]

Love-stuffed
Jun 08, 2012 01:20 am | Robin Dance


I visited a friend recently whose home had been invaded by giraffes.



Stuffed with fluff and mile-wide toothless grins, they told me plenty about the home I was visiting:  it was a happy sort of place with a lot of littles underfoot.  Three to be exact, stairsteps from nine months to four years.

Oh, I remember that time of life! Just like my friend Kim, when my third was born my oldest was months away from her fifth birthday.  The days were long and some of them demanded e v e r y t h i n g  of me just to make it to bedtime.  Theirs...and then mine.  No one could have loved their babies more or savored each season with more relish than me, but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard at times.

Motherhood and ministry, Jesus and Germany, life and love–our conversation never stopped.  And no matter where we wandered in her home ~ usually to follow her babies ~ there was a giraffe or two smiling back at me.

I couldn't help mentioning it; something about them pricked my mama heart, I suppose the memory of my own daughter's collection of lovies.  Usually kitties, now given or boxed away. except for Princess, her Velveteen Rabbit.

But our time was limited and talk of giraffes swiftly moved on to other things.

Too soon it was time to go.

As we walked to the door to hug our good-byes, Kim pressed something soft and cuddly into my hand:  it was the tiniest giraffe.

"I want you to take this back with you to Germany," she began.  "Every time you look at it, remember there are people here who love you, remember you, and are praying for you whether you know it or not."

Her eyes meant business as she looked straight through my own and into my heart, her tone insistent but not demanding, "Don't ever forget it...."

She was speaking life into my future, months down the road, when living abroad might loose a bit of its sparkle and shine.  When I might feel lonely and forgotten. How could she possibly know? I wondered.

But isn't this what we all crave, regardless of stage of life or our circumstances?

We need to be crazy-loved.

And we are.

We want to be known and remembered.

And we are.

We cherish prayer on our behalf.

Because this is the will of God.

A grown woman with a stuffed giraffe might sound ridiculous to some people, but to me it is a treasure!  In a child's stuffed toy, I have been (and will be!) loved and remembered and prayed for.  In a simple, spontaneous gesture, Kim made a difference in my life and seeded joy for the future.

Aren't the best gifts we receive the ones that transcend the gift itself?
Best gifts are tokens of love and affection.
Best gifts are forever remembered.
Best gifts remind us of the giver.
Best gifts don't satisfy a physical appetite or desire but they can encourage, inspire, challenge and bring hope and healing.
Best gifts touch our heart, soul and spirit.
For God so loved the world that He gave...

Yes...! Jesus is the BEST best gift.




Lovies, tell us all about a "best gift" you've received.  In so doing, you'll pay honor to the giver and you'll give the rest of us ideas about how we can be best givers.

By Robin Dance, author of PENSIEVE, who gives high regard to, and happens to prefer, a thoughtful re-gift.

[Judy Harder]

Lunch Dates and Making Time for Friends
Jun 09, 2012 01:30 am | Jessica Turner


Photo by Dawn Camp

In May, when my daughter was 10 months old, I weaned nursing her on my lunch break. You see, I had spent the previous eight months (since going back to work) visiting her day care every day at noon to nurse her.

Those 30 minutes with her were a highlight of my day, every day. And I would not do it any other way.

However, that commitment meant I could never make plans at lunch.

Since weaning her, I have scheduled a flurry of lunch dates with friends.

And it has been glorious.

I have realized how important it is to have REAL, FACE-TO-FACE time with friends.

As good as it is to connect with a friend on the phone, sharing a meal is better.

The past year has been hard – both physically (literally!) and emotionally draining. I didn't realize that my limited "grown-up" time had also impacted my well-being.

But looking back, I can see that it had.

God created us as relational beings, and it is important that we seek out community with those He has placed in our lives.

Several of my friends and I have committed to putting a lunch date on the calendar every month. As the lunch ends, we pull out our calendars and pick out a date for the next month.

The commitments of life (be it nursing a baby or something else) should not prevent relationship from happening, it just means you have to be more intentional.

With whom can you call and schedule a lunch date?

[Judy Harder]

About The Sunday Community:

On Sundays at Jumping Tandem, I post a photo, and a few sentences from the bible (because it helps me make sure I'm checking in with that book at least once a week). I include a linky so you can join in. I like to keep Sundays simple, so link up with a photo or a series of photos, and – if you'd like – some words of inspiration. Then, grab the Sunday button (from here) and post it on your page.

It's become a beautiful, quiet community, where we start our Sundays together. Because I know how crazy Sunday mornings can sometimes be, the linky is available to you on Saturday nights. You can check in sometime between 8 and 9 PM, CST.

Welcome. I'm looking forward to sharing Sundays with you, and I'm so glad to be hosting the community at (in)courage today. Join us? Just link up your simply quiet Sunday post below (the linky stays open all week):


<a href="http://deidrariggs.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.deidrariggs.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/JT-Button-OR.png"></a>

[Judy Harder]

One Thing That Will Help You Shine Today
Jun 11, 2012 01:20 am | Kristen Strong




For this current military assignment, my husband teaches physics at the United States Air Force Academy. Recently he got a break from the college cadets to give a "physics is fun" demo to several of the science classes at our sons' middle school. And let me just stop right here to say in my book, any sentence with "physics" and "fun" in it is crazy irony. But that's because math and science aren't really my friends.

While I find anything science-y to be monotonous-y, most of the 6th grade and 7th grade classes hearing David's demos thought otherwise. The positive, exuberant comments were so prevalent the boys' homeroom teacher wrote me a kind note detailing all the love floating around in the hallway and classroom.

Now, I know some of those kids are like me and science just isn't their thing. But David is a fantastic teacher to young kids and college kids alike, and he knows how to make the material fun. Of course, it helps that he loves it and gets excited teaching it. And lest you think my man's teaching style is super demonstrative, know he is a true introvert. But his delivery of the material is excellent, so even those young'uns who don't get all wahoo! about science find themselves interested. David gets all things science and is gifted at helping you get it, too.



Now, David knows not all his students love science,  but he does not go into each classroom and poll students on it. He doesn't apologize for instructing them on something some might not be all that fired up about. He doesn't worry about what they like, don't like, and how it all relates to him. It isn't his job to worry about all that. It's his job to walk confidently in the gifts God gave him. To just do the thing God created him to do.

When it comes to my own callings, I'm not always this brave. I take on responsibilities that aren't mine to own and fall all over myself apologizing for what I fear may be different from what others want, expect, or enjoy. So when I read what Paul wrote to the Galatians, I receive fresh inspiration on what attitude to have concerning my own calling:

"But when God, who set me apart from my mother's womb and called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his son in me so that I might preach him among the Gentiles, my immediate response was not to consult any human being."  Galatians 1:15-16

Paul didn't form a committee or ask a show of hands for all those who might think he'd be better suited elsewhere. Given his history of trying to destroy the church, I'm sure many skeptical people would have tried to talk him out of his God given calling. But Paul didn't give them a chance. He knew his assignment, and he stepped out in confidence to complete what he was created to do.

I love the way the Message translates how we are to step into our gifts:

"God doesn't want us to be shy with his gifts, but bold and loving and sensible."  2 Timothy 1:7

When we step out boldly and confidently, enthusiasm usually shows up, too. And when enthusiasm is at the party, fear doesn't have room to dance.

As long as what you are doing is in line with Scripture and God's will, then strap on your favorite dancing shoes and step into that calling. Clasp the responsibilities only He's given you. Complete what you're created to do.

Are you confident in God's plans for you? Even if you may not know what those plans are today? Do you feel you can rest in that confidence?

Kristen getting-braver Strong, Chasing Blue Skies



Praying Anything And A Giveaway
Jun 11, 2012 01:10 am | Jennie Allen




We have 4 days together. I want them to count and I believe as a generation of women, we are all reading blogs and dreaming and praying and growing like weeds, and we are all just hurting for God to use us in our sticky kitchens and cubicles. There has to be a way to live a story like this in the suburbs since most of us aren't moving to Africa.

One word.

But I warn you, it's potentially the most life altering word you will say.

Anything.

Zac and I climbed into bed on a completely average night two years ago. We were pretty tired. We just laid there looking at the ceiling, with only small firework fantasies of what God might say. Zac took my hand and spoke the simple words we had been processing for the past few months but not yet been ready to say.

God had been opening our eyes to how precious our temporary lives were and how numbly we were moving through them.

We were over it. We were over building our lives. We were over houses and cars and cute Christmas cards. We wanted something; we couldn't put our finger on it. It was burning in us. We had loved so many other things more than God.

We were ready to do anything.

So we prayed. As sincerely as I have ever prayed any other thing, I prayed in my heart as Zac spoke: 

"God we will do anything. Anything."

It didn't feel fancy. It wasn't even a big deal. But the prayer held in it a thousand little deaths. In saying anything, it meant we were handing him everything. My heart raced a little at the thought... and then we fell asleep.

Anything // Jennie Allen from Jennie Allen on Vimeo.


This prayer is not about accomplishing some visually stunning display of martyrdom or philanthropy. This surrender is simply an agreement with the living, active God of the universe saying He can have us completely. But just like my 4 year old jumping off the side of the pool into my arms, surrender requires full and utter confidence that God is real and that He is worth the jump.



So finish the sentence...

I am afraid_________.

We start here. What is holding you back?

GIVEAWAY: Leave a comment answering this question to enter for a chance to win a copy of Anything or post a photo of your fear here.

We will choose one winner each day this week.

I'll start.

I am afraid I will lose people's approval.

So I play it safe and almost miss the stories God has for me.

****

[Judy Harder]

Letting Go of Scrapbooks and a Giveaway
Jun 12, 2012 01:20 am | Jennie Allen


"Today I started a scrapbook," she told me excitedly as we sat talking about God and futures.  She had a lot of future ahead.  Alex was 19 and a sophomore at University of Texas her blonde ringlets bounced as she talked, I imagined her having a similar expression and posture as a 5 year old asking her mom for a popsicle.

She went on, "I started a scrapbook describing all I hope for... so I can picture it. I just started cutting out the things that I want, a white two story house, a black volvo SUV, even the cute husband and number of cute kids."

I sat speechless, trying not to laugh. I knew this was a girl that adored God and sincerely knew Him.  And while, I had never known anyone to be so bold as to build an actual scrapbook, I thought to myself-

I have one of those. We all have them.

We all have the pictures of our lives in our minds, how they "should" be.  How we hope them to be- How we picture them.

The powerful scrapbooks of our lives that exist in our heads.

When we will be married.
How many kids we will have.
Where we will live.
How much money we will make.
What our jobs will be.
What our houses will look like.
How our husband will treat us.
The places we will travel.
Who our friends will be.
How our kids will behave.
How close our grandkids should live.
When we will retire.
What our ministries will be like.

At some point we realize life doesn't work that way. We can't control the actual scrapbooks- the ones reflecting the past rather than the future.  But we still long to try.  We long to try to control our lives and to build the picture of the life we want.

And to let go? The idea that we would actually hand it over to God and say- go.  Build it.  Whatever you want with mine.... it is terrifying.

What if God has....

Singleness
Struggle
Adoption
A difficult husband
Infertility
Moving from the town we love
An apartment instead of a house
Cancer
Disapproval
Death
Overseas Missions
Financial Hardship

as part of my story? What if He let me suffer?  What if He asked me to sacrifice? What if none of my dreams come true?

The very thought of praying anything.... demands everything.  We have to face our fears... if we believe God is real, if we believe He has an eternal heart, we have to face the fact that our temporary comfort and scrapbook may be messed with by a God like that.

Acts 17 says that God determined the times set for each person on earth and the exact places where they should live. Isn't that absolutely mind blowing? Nothing about our lives is by accident. And in Galatians Paul writes that before time God planned the good works we would do in our lives.
Our stories are already written by God...

are we living them?

I wasn't. My plans for my life included God and ministry but I was writing my story and when anything too uncomfortable pressed in I got nervous. For years I pushed away nudges about adoption, about writing, teaching. I wasn't going to do things that threatened the picture of the life I thought I was supposed to have until it occurred to me that perhaps I am missing the very best parts and perhaps I care more about this short life than the one that will last forever.



I know I'm not alone. I know so many of us are living stuck and afraid, instead of remembering there is more.

What are you missing because you are afraid?

If I weren't afraid I would ____________.

Life is short! We have to live the stories God has written for us.

GIVEAWAY: Leave a comment answering this question to enter for a chance to win a copy of Anything or post a photo of your story here.

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Splashing joy
Jun 12, 2012 01:15 am | Robin Dance


Funny how you have little control over what you'll remember decades down the road....



I was a 20-something, single and living in Atlanta, attending a bible study at Mount Paren Church led by a guy who flew in from Alabama.  I was critical of that, the flyin' in part couldn't they find someone local?–I used to judge much more harshly when I "knew" so much more–but his talks were challenging and inspiring, and I was more hungry and eager than proud and unteachable.

His name escapes me now, but the unforgettable story he told about Miss Sophia* has lingered for 25 years.  Actually, it's not even the entire story, it was the beautiful way he characterized her–

Miss Sophia was a "natural Christian, the kind where Jesus just seeps from her pores."
Everything about Miss Sophia was consistent with the faith she professed:  her service and kindness to others, her wise counsel, her countenance.  Even if you weren't a believer, he told us, you'd know there was something different about Miss Sophia.  She understood how deeply she was loved by Christ and it seeded her desire for everybody she met to know that love.

But she didn't preach it, she lived it, so intimate a relationship with God she couldn't not share it in everyday conversation.
Right then I longed to be known like that one day. 

Maddie, best friend to and one of the authors of my daughter's Closet Epistle, reminded me of Miss Sophia the other day.  She was mountain top-glowing having just returned from a mission trip to Haiti.

"I know, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this will be a part of the rest of my life!"  Maddie tells me, excited and brimming.  She splashes joy everywhere.  I'm soaking.

I hand her the graduation gift from our family and she slips a finger through a gap in the wrapping, sliding it along the taped seam and keeping the conversation going.  At the last minute I included one of DaySpring's darling totes and when Maddie sees it, reads it, she declares, "It's another confirmation!  All week long the theme of 'trusting God' keeps coming up, and here it is again!"

Her graduation gift is a sign from God, a reminder to trust.  Whoa!



Maddie may be young but she's well on her way to becoming a natural Christian like Miss Sophia.  I have no doubt she'll eagerly welcome the conversation when someone asks her what her tote means.

Wearing your faith for others to see doesn't have to be showy or brash; subtle, inviting and natural...it's the most beautiful thing you can put on.
I can't wait to read your review posts if you signed up for one this month!  It wouldn't surprise me if our stories are very similar.  Link your post below and be sure to visit a friend or two ~ and leave a comment! ~ a lovely way to encourage our community.

It Was On A Tuesday
Jun 12, 2012 01:10 am | Kayla Aimee




It was on a Tuesday, the 85th day, that I walked through the glass doors to hear the alarm flashing, to see the doctors and nurses working frantically over her body as she went limp and gray. Lifted up and carried out, flailing against the arms of the strangers removing me from the scene, I didn't realize I was screaming until they gently told me to stop.

It was on a Tuesday that I discovered the whole of my relationship with the Lord could be condensed down to a thin, flat red line pulsing across a small black screen.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son...

Nine months prior I had stared down at a positive pregnancy test and whispered an age old prayer of thanks. I was Hannah, grieved in my infertility and rejoicing at the long awaited promise of a child.

You count your pregnancy by weeks and I was at twenty five when the doctor laid her hand on my shoulder. "We're taking the baby" she said. I breathed deep of the oxygen mask, gripping hard to the cold hospital bed rail and the place where not seeing becomes believing as they cut my daughter from me.

Everything changed.

And in that moment the once indefinable weight of glory was spelled out across the scale they laid her bare on.

One pound, eight point six ounces.

156 days in the neonatal intensive care unit.

People often ask me how my faith was tested during that time. "Not tested," I answer.

Stripped.

I had thought myself knowledgeable. Former Vice President of the FCA, answers were what I had. I studied the Bible. I knew stuff. And around my heart I amassed a collection of religious tokens that began to cast a shadow over the genuinely important.

In my most desolate of moments everything else I had wrapped around my faith fell away and left exposed the single most defining truth: He is who He says He is.

In a fit of incompatible emotions I both raged at Him and begged Him to heal her here on this earth. Either way I would be forever changed, marked by this shift where my faith became intangible. That was where I was that Tuesday, with my face pressed against the glass, suspended between hope and desperation and clinging to the same answer regardless of the outcome:

Jesus Is Lord

Scarlette purses her lips when she is concentrating on something, her brow furrows as she gingerly flips the cardboard page of a rhyming book. "God loves you more than the deepest sea..." I read to her. She is curious about my tears, tracing the path they've made down my cheek with her finger. "Mommy is crying because she's happy" I tell her. She's not even two so I can't explain to her that these simple rhyming words in her favorite book are just a portion of the mercies that are new every morning.

One day I'll give her a bigger book with a soft, leather cover and tell her it's a love story.

The truth is, I did nothing. I didn't live well or believe well or stay strong in my faith. I laid with my face on the floor in the darkness and just let the small, inextinguishable flame of truth do what it is meant for. No one will write my name in history books as a woman of great faith nor will I pen studies giving guidance on overcoming adversity. They'll simply reference an ancient text and see where in one life, it was true:

For where I am weak, He is strong

Written by Kayla Aimee of Only Slighty Neurotic



Father's Day Tradition Ideas
Jun 12, 2012 12:05 am | Jennifer Schmidt




My heart warmed when I snapped this picture.

Dressed up and all ready for their special daddy daughter date night, our girls spent time with a devoted father. A daddy whose desire  to cherish his princess daughters, and model just how a man should treat a lady is at the forefront of their time together.

This is a powerful example of the lasting affect a loving, caring father has on the life of his daughter -  a foundation of strength, value and confidence.

Yet I understand that the absence of that legacy can have an equally powerful affect. A  legacy of insecurity, fear or worse, all of which are difficult to overcome.

Father's Day comes with such a myriad of emotions.

With this holiday just around the corner, may we pray specifically for the men in our life?

I pray for our husbands, that they would lead our next generation of sons and daughters, and that we, as their wives, would lift them up, encourage them, and support them in this calling to build a generational legacy for our children, and our children's children.

That's an overwhelming responsibility, yet there's no better time to encourage the Dads and grandfathers in our lives than this Sunday.

Father's Day is meant to be a celebration of thanks to our dads, but often we fall into a typical "card and clothes" present rut. Why not tap into the power of the five love languages, and speak love to him in ways that matter most.



In our hustle and bustle of every day life, people rarely take the time to write down encouraging words, and yet for many men, the need for affirmation through this love language is crucial.

The written word feeds the soul, and on those days when dad has had a discouraging day at work, he can grab these " I love you" cards and be reminded of what really matters.

Read more about how we implement a creative tradition idea by hiding these cards, as well as print them here: "I love My Dad Because..." printable.

Show your dad just how special he is by giving him the gift that keeps on giving. This Father's Day Coupon Book is filled with ways to make his day extra meaningful. This speaks to those dads whose love language is best communicated through Acts of Service.



Most of us don't have time to scrapbook, but a great way to let Dad know how much we love him is to create an ABC book. This is a perfect activity to do with children learning their ABC's, but I did it with older children, and it was so special. We used a Dollar Store album and collaborated on 26 quick pages.

We thought of character traits, inside jokes, and activities we loved to do with Dad, as well as bible verses that we interspersed through out the album. Each item corresponded with a different letter of the alphabet. We let go of perfection, and didn't try to create the next Mona Lisa.  For instance, the Letter P "page" might have GO Packers, Patient Father, Penny Pincher, Peaceful, and Predictable, while the Letter "J" might have a silly joke that Dad always tells (a groaner). This might seem too involved for a last minute gift, but we completed ours in only two hours and not only was it a blast for the kids, but Dad loved reading over every page.

Laughter is good medicine, and we all need to laugh more.

On Father's Day, plan a joke telling party with the kids. This belly laugh picture came from a spontaneous evening where our family read jokes out loud to each other. I am sure they weren't that funny, but when one person got going, we just couldn't stop. I know the Lord must love seeing His children embrace life like that, but unfortunately, we don't do it enough.

If you don't have a good repertoire of jokes, feel free to use some of my conversation starter questions.

Traditionally, we begin our Father's Day morning with breakfast served in bed.

Why don't we take it up a notch and declare Dad "King for the Day". The dads in our lives deserve no less than the royal treatment for this Father's Day. Give him a present he'll never forget. Remember that this can be as easy or elaborate as you want to make it based on your dad's personality and preferences.

Since Dad has been King all day,  he'll enjoy ending his evening with this adorable Papa Pizza and Father's Day Cake.



This cake is not about the food or a recipe. It's about sharing special words of blessing over Dad at the end of the day in such a simple, yet meaningful, manner. A few days before Father's Day, gather pictures of Dad at all ages.

Have your children or guests write words of affirmation or favorite bible verses on the backs of the pictures. Take turn reading these out loud, and honoring dad over dessert. (More specific directions here.)

Hopefully, some of these simple tradition ideas sparked your creative juices. The most meaningful gifts are often those that money can't buy.

Are there special ways that you celebrate Father's Day?
I'd love to hear your plans for this Sunday.



(Ideas shared by Jen from Balancing Beauty and Bedlam. One mom, who is  just trying to keep her head above water today.)

[Judy Harder]

The Three Things Wife
Jun 19, 2012 01:20 am | Lysa




When I first got married I was determined to figure out how to do this "wife" thing well. Desperate to be a good wife, I made note of what 'good wives' did.

* She cooks meatloaf.
* She vacuums every day so there are lines in the carpet indicating its cleanliness.
* She sticks love notes in his brief case.
* She buys and wears lingerie.
* She likes wearing lingerie and wears it three times a week.
* She gives him his space when he gets home.
* She hangs up the phone when he walks in the door.
* She learns facts about football and watches games with him.
* She prays for him everyday.

And the list grew and grew.

Eventually, the list in my head of what a good wife does, so completely overwhelmed me I cried. I felt inadequate. I started to shut down.

I assumed the list in my head was in my husband's head too.

I grew bitter. And in a moment of complete exhaustion, I yelled, "Your expectations are ridiculous!"

To which he replied, "What expectations?"

"The list... the list of hundreds of things I need to do to be a good wife," I sobbed through the snot and the tears.

His blank stare dumbfounded me. He had no such list.

I had so broadened my scope of things to do, I had diminished my vision of simply loving him.

Do less. Be more.

"Honey," I said feeling the entanglements of expectations loosening their grip on me, "I can't do everything good wives seem to do. But I can do three things. So, tell me your top three things and I will do those well."

After all, I could spend a whole marriage doing a hundred things half-way with a bitter attitude and an overwhelmed spirit.

Or, I could do 3 things whole-heartedly with a smile on my face and love in my heart.

His 3 things were simple... Be an emotionally and spiritually invested mom with our kids, take good care of your body and soul, and keep the house tidy. (Notice it says tidy- not perfectly clean.) That's it.

He could care less about home cooked meals. He is fine with me hiring someone else to vacuum lines into the carpet. And he's totally okay if I watch 48 hours mystery while on a different TV he watches the man cub events.

Now, he didn't say anything about lingerie. But, he could argue that it is a subplot of me taking good care of my body. The problem is I'm much more of a sweatpants kind of girl. Yes, Victoria has a little secret and I haven't a clue what it is.

But that's a topic for another day entirely.

For today, I've narrowed my scope to three things which has broadened my vision for a great marriage.

I am a three things wife. It's simple. But simple is good.

By Lysa TerKeurst
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Unforgiven
Jun 19, 2012 01:10 am | Elisabeth Corcoran


"I just can't forgive myself."

I have heard this said by women who have done horrible things, things they completely regret, things that haunt them, things that they just can't seem to let go of and move on from.

And I totally get this. I have huge regrets in my life. A ton of choices that I would give anything to be able to go back and redo. I'm confident that with my wisdom, gained afterwards, I'd choose differently.

But there is no going back. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I no longer believe in Plan B. So I obsess over the wrong choice or the sin and I kick myself and wonder what if and carry the guilt and shame around with me as if it's tethered to my back.

So I totally get the concept of 'not being able to forgive oneself', but I don't believe in it. I don't believe the words are right.

I believe wholeheartedly that when someone claims that she cannot forgive herself – over her divorce or her affair or her abortion or staying too long in an abusive situation or what-have-you – that what she really means is she cannot truly believe that God has forgiven her or is even able to. That what she has done has fallen just outside the boundaries of the grace of God.

We don't want to word it this way though because we know how that sounds. It sounds like we're saying we don't believe the Word of God is true when it says that we will be forgiven of all unrighteousness (I John 1:9). It sounds like we're saying that God therefore is a liar. It sounds like we're saying that what Jesus did on the cross was all good and fine, and that he died for the sins of the world, and that his death conquered and killed sin, just not ours. Our sin was too bad. And we don't want to sound like this is what we're saying.

But if I have done something really awful, and I am sincerely sorrowful over it, and I have asked Christ to forgive me, I am forgiven.

There is nothing else to add to the equation. Self-flogging is not part of the deal. God didn't say that he'd send Christ to die for us and we also need to beat ourselves up for a little while/a few years/the rest of our lives and then we'll be forgiven. Nope, it's just the Jesus part.

And there's nothing that falls just outside of what was nailed to the cross. God isn't up there thinking, "Oh crud, she did that?! Because I didn't make provisions for that...now what am I going to do with her? I guess she'll just have to live with the guilt." Uh-uh, all of sin was taken out. All of your sin was covered over. Even that really, really bad thing you did.

So, you've got a secret? Are you carrying around guilt? There's really only one thing to do. Go to God about it. Ask him once and for all to forgive you, but then ask him to help you experience the forgiveness, to feel the forgiveness, to choose to know it to be true even when you don't feel it. And then, sweet girl, walk in it.

Jesus straightened up and asked her, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"

"No one, sir," she said.

"Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. "Go now and leave your life of sin."

John 8:10-11

By: Elisabeth Corcoran