a CHRISTmas post

*Photo found on Pinterest

Sweet Mary,

I tried putting myself in your shoes this morning.

Engaged, virginal. You followed those rules.

You were a good girl.

Then suddenly, your whole world changed.

Pregnant, yet still a virgin.

A supernatural conception. 

Something the world had never seen.

You knew the Truth, but others didn’t.

They were going to see your belly and just assume…

And they were going to judge.

Were you afraid to tell your parents? 

Were you scared to tell your fiancé?

You had to assume they wouldn’t believe you.

After all, nobody gets pregnant yet remains a virgin.

Did they call you a liar? Did they make you feel unwanted?

I don’t know how these things worked in your day,

But I can imagine some of what may have been said.

The accusations and strongly voiced opinions of others.

The scornful looks. The not-so-quiet whispers.

What must you have had to endure?

How long did their judgements last?

Was it all okay after you and Joseph got married?

Or were you married before you even started showing?

They probably assumed the baby was Joseph’s -

Did you ever cry tears of joy to have him by your side?

There you were - blameless. You’d done nothing wrong.

You knew you were innocent of all their accusations.

This wasn’t how you envisioned having a baby.

Yet, when the angel came and called you highly favored

Then proceeded to knock your socks off,

You humbly replied, “I am the Lord’s servant.”

Did you know that one moment of obedience by you

Would cause you to be a woman we’d always remember?

God must have seen you as incredibly special.

He chose you, young Mary, to carry our Savior.

What an incredible honor bestowed upon you.

I imagine any pain of people’s judgements disappeared

When you first looked into Baby Jesus’ eyes.

I wonder…

When you cuddled your child close and breathed Him in,

did you catch the scent of heaven lingering on His skin?

*Photo found on Pinterest

Brave Joseph,

I don’t claim to know how men’s brains work, 

but I tried envisioning how you must’ve felt in all this too.

There were probably a lot of different emotions running through you.

I imagine there were feelings of betrayal.

Maybe you felt deceived. Hurt. Angry. Sad.

You thought you knew the woman you were going to marry,

but suddenly…she’s pregnant?

“How could she do this to me?” you may’ve asked yourself.

Did you scoff at her claims of still being a virgin?

It’s possible, but I don’t think you did.

You may have not believed her, but I don’t think you were cruel to her.

You proved yourself to be a kind man.

You were going to stand beside her, still marry her.

Then divorce her in quiet because you didn’t want to disgrace her.

That shows your strength of character, I think.

You would subject yourself to the judgement she would now face.

By not immediately casting her aside, you made yourself a target.

They would assume the baby was yours.

Then an angelic visit shed light on everything for you.

You still must have endured your own share of disapproving looks, though.

You were innocent, but thought to be guilty, just as she.

Or maybe that’s not how it worked at all.

Maybe you weren’t judged as harshly because you were male.

I don’t know how your society dealt with such things.

Either way, this wasn’t how you planned on becoming a father, was it?

God must’ve seen something really honorable in you.

After all, He entrusted His only Son into your care.

Your life turned out far differently then you must’ve envisioned.

I mean, did you ever think you’d have the role of Papa to the Messiah?

I wonder…

Was it ever hard to be the leader of your home,

knowing you were raising the Creator of the world?

*Photo found on Pinterest

Precious Jesus,

Did You recognize the world You created when You arrived?

You were fully God, yet fully man.

How did Your brain work? Did you understand everything right away?

Or did You learn at the same pace as the other babies?

It’s hard to wrap my brain around it all.

You willingly stepped out of heaven to live amongst us.

You became human. Fully human.

You knowingly took on the limitations of a human body.

Was that ever frustrating for You?

You stepped out of Your Kingdom and bowed low to enter earth.

Did You ever just sit and simply miss Your home in heaven?

You didn’t show up as a King, You came as a baby.

A baby!

Fully dependent on others to take care of You.

You Who created life, Who knit humans together,

Were now being formed in Mary’s womb.

You Who had provided them food and nourishment

Now relied on them to keep you fed.

You Who is All-Knowing… now had to attend school?

Before You ever died for us, You had already made

Some incredible sacrifices to be with us.

You left the adoration of one home knowing 

You’d be scorned in the next.

You didn’t come in demanding our loyalty.

You didn’t place Yourself in a wealthy and well-known family.

You came, knowing the life You’d live. 

The things You’d go through.

The pain and trials You’d endure.

You came into a world that had no room prepared for You,

Born in a barn, laid to rest in a manger.

All of heaven must’ve held it’s breath as,

With one final push from the sweet Mary,

The Darling of heaven began His journey

As a little babe among us.

You came, knowing what we’d do to You.

You came, loving us enough to endure it.

You came, miraculously and humbly.

You came. You came. You came.

*Photo found on Pinterest

Dear Friends,

With all the hustle and bustle of what Christmas has become,

We sometimes lose sight of the real Reason for this season.

Him. His birth. The night our Savior came to be with us.

What a beautiful moment, with all creation holding it’s breath,

As our precious Jesus was born…

The beginning of our Redemption story.

May we be reminded of the true meaning of Christmas this year.

May we see past all the decorations and presents

To catch a glimpse in our minds eye of that precious manger.

Though He’s not a baby in that manger anymore,

May we never forget that He once was. For us.

As we gather with our loved ones, may our hearts be filled

With a simple yet grateful prayer:

Thank You, Jehovah, that You came.

Merry Christmas, Dear Ones. My love to you all <3

*Photo found on Pinterest

no room for Ish

I love words. Seriously. Each one is like a little sprinkle of magic to me and I get to decide whether it’s the lovely good kind or the icky bad kind. It’s a passion of mine, experiencing both old and new ways that these seemingly innocuous things get put into play. It’s why I’m such an avid reader and writer. There’s just something so beautiful in the stories that get told and the tales that are woven by using what seems to be an endless combination of letters to form the wondrous words.

           

*Photo found on Pinterest

Let me share with you one of my [many] quirks (I’m sure you’re just shivering with anticipation…) There are three letters that I frequently add on to my words - i,s, & h. Ish. I love doing this because it gives me a sense of freedom, rather than putting boundaries on me from what I said. I know that sounds weird, but if you think about it it actually makes sense…

For example, if I’m asked what time we’re leaving, I respond, “10:30-ish” and then if we don’t leave until 10:45 it’s no problem because I added that ish. Or if I’m asked when I’ll be coming over to someone’s house, I’ll say, “Soon-ish” so that I’m able to finish whatever I’m doing before needing to leave. I also use it in reference to something’s size when describing an object (‘cause let’s face it, I’m not so good at guessing the actual size..) - biggish, smallish, largish, widish, tallish… you get the idea.

I know in Matthew 5:37, the Bible says, “Let your yes mean yes, and your no mean no.” I’m not saying let’s go against that by any means. If I say I’ll be somewhere, I better be there. If I say I’ll do something, I best do it. If my answer is no, then I need to stick to that. The way I use ish doesn’t go against this verse, please understand that. If I tell someone yes or no, there is no ish involved, I mean yes or no.

With those three letters, though, so much can be conveyed. I use it lots of times in place of “sorta”. “Are you sleepy?” someone may ask & my response can be, “Ish.” Or if someone inquires about my health, “How are you feeling today? Any pain?” When I don’t have the time or desire to get into all that’s going on with me physically, my short answer is simply, “Ish.” I love this group of letters because I can say so much without saying hardly anything at all. It’s awesome!

While I was thinking about my odd love for ish while getting ready one morning, I started pondering the times when it’s not ok to use this favorite word of mine. For instance, if my husband teasingly asks me how much I love him, ish is not an appropriate response. Or if someone asks me if they look okay, ish would do more harm than good. If someone apologizes and asks for my forgiveness, ish better not be anywhere in my answer to them. Yes, I love the word, but there are times it needs to stay behind my lips. 

In the midst of contemplating all this, I had a profound thought that I know didn’t come from me, but rather from Him. This post wasn’t actually just to inform you all of my love for ish (although I did quite enjoy writing that part.) This post was written because of what He whispered to my heart. That message being this:

When it comes to my faith, there’s no place for ish. 

The Bible doesn’t say, “I am the Way-ish, the Truth-ish, and the Life-ish.” His word doesn’t say, “Fear not, for I am with you. Ish.” Mark 17:20 doesn’t go, “…if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘move from here to there,’ and it will move-ish.” 

He doesn’t command us to love-ish our neighbors. He doesn’t tell us to pray-ish for those who persecute us. He doesn’t call us to act just-ish, to sorta love mercy, nor to walk humbly-ish with our God. He didn’t commission His people to go into all the world and preach-ish the gospel.

There is no believe-ish, trust-ish, obey-ish. There is no sorta to being a Christian, no place to be a follower-ish of Jesus.  

If I would add ish to how I walk with Christ, then I’m in danger of becoming a lukewarm follower. And God’s pretty clear on how He feels about that degree of temperature. There’s really no way to miss it in Revelations 3:15-16, “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm - neither hot nor cold - I am about to spit you out of my mouth.” I most certainly don’t want my Abba to say those words in reference to my walk with Him!

*Photo found on Pinterest

When I think about what being a lukewarm Christian may look like, I see this picture of a person straddling a line, a foot on either side. The line divides them because they’re not all in on either side. To me, this is a visual representation of one who talks the talk but doesn’t walk the walk. They profess to know God, but their lifestyle doesn’t support their claim, just like the Bible says: “They claim to know God, but by their actions they deny Him.” (Titus 1:16) In Isaiah 29:13 it’s said this way - “The Lord says: ‘These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.’” 

This brings to mind one of my favorite quotes. 

“The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians 

who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle. 

That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.” 

The first time I grasped the message within these words of Brennan Manning it was like a shot to my heart. I remember just praying as a young teen, “God, please keep me from being one of those Christians!” I don’t want to be a hypocrite. I don’t want to speak Love, but live a life of judgement and offenses. I don’t want to claim Grace, yet offer it to none. I don’t want to receive Forgiveness while withholding it from any I feel have wronged me. I want my lifestyle to honor God, for my heart to be close to Him. I never want to be the reason behind an unbeliever continuing in their unbelief. 

*Photo found on Pinterest

I do not want to be a line-straddler, I want to be a God-chaser. I want my feet to be so enmeshed in running after Him that there’s no way for them to be stuck in a struggle of deciding which side of the line to be on.

This post was written just as much to me as it was to you. I imagine it’s Him calling out for us to search our hearts and ponder our motives. We’ve been issued a call to action - to not be satisfied with just saying, “I love Jesus” but to be purposeful in showing our love for Him with our lives.

May we be a people whose lives draw others to Christ. May our actions back up our words. May the world be changed by our pursuit of Him. And may we always remember that when it comes to faith -  as consuming as His love is, and as powerful as His forgiveness is, and as great as His goodness is - Friends, as big as our God is, there’s simply no room left for ish.

with a Grateful Heart

Over the weekend I started mentally writing this blog post. For me, the process starts when a thought gets triggered by something and I follow it’s path, seeing where it takes me. And while I’m on the trail, I’m mentally writing. Choosing and changing words, figuring out the correct grammar and punctuation. This is just my method, I have no clue how others do it.

*Photo found on Pinterest

My latest thought trail was on thankfulness. Since I was considering writing about the things I’m thankful for, I was trying to figure out how exactly I'd do this. I could never list it all, so I would need to wheedle my list down for the purpose of a blog post. I decided on sharing with you all a little about the four amazing people I grew up with and the one who gave me his last name. Giving you a little glimpse at how blessed I am to have them in my life and why I’m so very thankful for them.

Then I got to thinking how, due to it being the week of Thanksgiving, there will probably be tons of others posting about thankfulness. Maybe sharing their own lists or just writing on what being thankful means to them. My social media newsfeed is already filled with thankfulness posts. And as we sit around the table during the holiday, we’ll take turns sharing what we’re thankful for (or at least that’s my family’s tradition… what do you and yours do?)

Knowing that so many others would be writing and talking about this same thing, it began to seem that a post on thankfulness this week would be so… blasé, so “of course she wrote that”, so “duh!”. I didn’t like the thought of doing what everyone else was doing, so I figured I just wouldn’t do it. I could write it some other time, maybe. It would just be so cliche (I wrote that last part with a very sarcastic and mock horror tint towards myself, Friends…)

Then, as I was driving home after feeding the equine herd this morning, there was a check in my spirit. 

Acknowledging all He's done for me and thanking Him for it is never a mundane thing. No matter what week it is or what holiday is approaching or if everybody else is writing about the same topic or not - I am called to “give thanks, for the Lord is good. His love endures forever!” And there is absolutely nothing cliche about that.

*Photo found on Pinterest

So with the check to my spirit, my heart also experienced a necessary shift and I’m once again eager to write this post because I want to tell the world how incredibly good my God is.

We're told to count our blessings and I think it's important to do so because it helps keep our hearts in a place of gratefulness. When we're focused on all the things He's already done for us, on the many things He's given us, it's hard to remain worried or unhappy. Giving Him thanks brings us peace. At least, that's always been my experience. It takes my attention off of the things I'm wanting in the future and helps remind my heart to trust Him because of how well He's always taken care of me before.

There are so very many things I’m thankful for, I could never list them all! Just a few would be:

Salvation. Redemption. Grace.

Indoor plumbing. Working vehicles.

Friends. Best Friends. Pets.

Mercy. Forgiveness.

Yumminess of tomatoes.

Trials that draw me closer to Him.

Clean water. Popcorn.

Hearing ears. Seeing eyes. Working limbs.
Warm socks. Gloves. Scarves. Coats.

Love. Laughter. Trips down memory lane.

Good paying jobs. A home built with love.

The list is never ending! And while I could continue to type out thing after thing that I truly am thankful for, I'd rather tell you about some of the people I’m thankful for.

So without further ado, let me share with you about five of the most amazing people I know.

My Daddy

The first man to ever put stars in my eyes. And all my life, he’s steadily supported me in chasing those stars, however they may appear to me.  Whenever the adventure gets tough or the journey seems scary and just too much for me to take on, he’s the one I seek out to have pray over me. I love to hear my dad pray. There’s something so immensely comforting in it to me, something so soothing. His voice reminds me of a gentle thunder, it holds a reassuring power for me.  And the times when he’s moved to tears while praying over my health - well that just makes this girl feel incredibly loved and wanted. Oh, and his laugh! I absolutely adore when this man laughs... it's so contagious and genuine and just makes me laugh right along with him...

My Momma

The depth of my mother’s love humbles me. Through every season of life, she’s.been.there! In the season of learning to walk and learning to talk, she was my teacher. In the season of learning to read, she was my audience. In the season of teen-dom, she was my counselor. In the season of change from child to adult, she was my role model. In the season of heart bruises and betrayals, she was my constant hug. In the season of stepping out in faith and taking chances, she was my cheerleader. And in this whole season of my illness, for the past long years, she is my SuperMomma hero. Everything she does for me and all the ways she takes care of me - her love is truly amazing to me. The world would be a far lovelier place if everyone had a mother like mine!

My Sister

This girl I love with a fierce passion. There’s just so much I adore about her! She’s the one I go to when I can’t figure out how to put my thoughts into words. She’s the one who understands me 'cause she speaks Andi-ese. Since my illness has progressed, she willingly spends hours just hanging out with me in whatever way I’m capable of. She’s my fellow dreamer, my book-addiction supplier, my lego-playing comrade.  She’s the keeper of my secrets, my confidant. She’s the holder of many inside jokes. She makes me laugh all the time, whether we’re together or just texting. I can’t count the times I’ve cried from laughing with her so hard. She brings tremendous happiness to my life. She’s willing to give up her down time to take care of me whenever that need arises. And she’s made getting her to say, “I love you too” into a fun challenge. One that, every time I succeed, makes my heart get all warm and cozy from hearing it. She’s my best friend and she’s beyond the greatest sister I ever could’ve asked for.

My Brother

Because of him, I was born already having a best friend. Growing up, he was my favorite toy, my steady companion, my loving protector. I love to look back on our childhood and just remember all the fun we had together. Being a kid was so much fun because I got to be one with him. People used to ask us if we were twins when we were little and I remember, beside the thoughts of thinking people were weird for not knowing the truth, there was also a deep sense of pride in just having people ask that. Because, even as a youngster, I knew it was an honor to be his little sister. Now as an adult, I still have that pride because he’s grown up to be an amazing man, a man after God’s heart. He's absolutely crazy and there's never a dull moment with him around. He's so confident and comfortable being exactly who he is and I love that about him. One of the things I most love about him though is that he's never stopped being my wonderful brother.

My Husband

All my life, my greatest dream was to fall in love and marry a godly man. I wanted to be a wife more than anything else in the world. It’s what I prayed fervently over, what my heart deeply longed for. I dreamed of finding a man who would accept me with all my weirdness and quirks. A man who would laugh with me and dance with me, who’d see beyond what the mere eye can see and instead gaze upon my heart. He’d put forth the effort to get to know me, to find out what makes me smile and what makes me cry. He’d encourage me in my dreams, partnering with me and cheering me on. He’d be my protector, my safe harbor, and my shield against those who’d seek to hurt me. He’d hold me and comfort me when my symptoms would flare up, praying over me and letting me know I’m never in the fight alone. Above all, he would love me. Good days, bad days. Happy days, sad days. Easy days, hard days. He’d choose love every day.

When I was twenty-three I met a man worthy of entrusting my heart to. Now, what I can tell you is this - in all my dreaming and all my wishing, I barely scratched the surface of all the wonderfulness that is JRB. <3

*Photo found on Pinterest

So as we sit around the table during this holiday season, them eating the wonderful food and me enjoying the smell of it all, my heart will continue to lift up thanks to my Father. Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. And boy, is my heart abundantly full of gratefulness for I know that I am a woman who’s been richly blessed.

Tell me, Dear One, what is your heart full of thanks for this year? There's always, always something to be thankful for. And I bet once you start naming things, your list will just keep going and going. So enjoy your turkey, mashed taters, and pumpkin pie (or whatever it is you'll be eating.) Relish the time with friends and family during this fun holiday. But, Friends, let's not get so caught up in the Thanksgiving hoopla that we forget to actually be thankful and give thanks to the Giver of all good things.

I'll leave you with this song that my favorite vegetables like to sing (aka -The Veggie Tales.)

Because a thankful heart is a happy heart!

I'm glad for what I have, that's an easy way to start!

For the love that He shares as He listens to my prayers

That's why I say thanks everyday!

*Photo found on Pinterest

a [fearful] good girl

I felt the Spirit prompting me to write this post. Sometimes the words to write just flow for me, but other times it seems I’m deleting and re-writing over and over. This has been a journey of the latter variety. I want to be obedient though, so I’ll share my thoughts even if they’re not worded perfectly and hope that, amidst the imperfections, someone somewhere finds encouragement.

Have you ever given much thought to your testimony, what it is and how to word it? When you should (or maybe shouldn’t) share it? How do you start that conversation anyways? How do you know if others even want to hear it? 

*Photo found on Pinterest

I’ve been pondering these questions lately, contemplating the messages I’ve heard pastors teach on this topic in the past. I remember one specific message that has stuck with me through the years. I’ve never felt comfortable telling my whole story to random people, so I really enjoyed this particular message. The pastor was advising us not to just launch into this long story about our lives and what Jesus has done for us because (a) people may not have the time for that right then or (b) they might not be open to hearing it so going on and on could actually be a hinderance to them. Instead, he encouraged us to break it down to a few sentences that would lead to them wanting to know more. Like how we read a synopsis of a book or movie and, if it catches our interest, it leads us to find out the rest of the story. So give them a preview and let them decide if they want to hear more. 

I really loved the way he said that because I had always felt like sharing my testimony had to be this big ordeal and take lots of time. This belief came about through different life experiences such as the time people would be given to share during church services and by others giving me their “nutshell” version that still seemed to take at least 30mins to tell. Talking about myself for more than 5mins is tough for me, so when I heard this message I was like, “Score! I can totally handle this way of sharing my testimony!”

[A sense of foreboding. Pride] Peace. Humbled. JOY

In an illustration to go along with this message, the pastor had prepared a time for cardboard testimonies to be seen. For any who may be unfamiliar with that term, you take a piece of cardboard (or whatever you want to use) and on one side you describe your life before Jesus and on the other you describe after you surrendered to Him. Generally you only use 1-5 words per side. You don’t speak, instead allowing the sign to do the talking. If you’ve never seen this, you can watch them on youtube. 

Witnessing that time of testimony made a huge impact on me. Seeing people step up on stage with their “before” side showing, then watching as they flipped the sign over and revealed their “after” <—it gave me chills. It was so simple, yet so profound. 

[Rule Breaker] Honoring Authority

As Christians, we each have a testimony. A story to share, each one unique because it tells how Jesus changed us personally. Some in dramatic and obvious ways while others are subtle and more obscure. The stories differ, but the Reason behind and the Power within them are the same. The precious blood of the Lamb.

I wonder what you’d tell me if I asked to hear your testimony. And for the longest time, I really wondered what I’d tell you if you asked the same of me. Because, to be honest, I had no idea what mine was for most of my life. Maybe you can relate.

Knowing we have a testimony is a good thing, but knowing what it is seems like an even better one. 

[Broken] Saved

I was raised in a Christian home so I grew up hearing that word, “testimony”. I was a child familiar with listening to people share their stories of how Jesus saved their lives. Chains of addictions broken. Marriages rescued & redeemed. Miraculous healing of diseases of both the body and the soul.

All powerful testimonies filled with God’s forgiveness and grace. They’d give a preview of their life before Jesus and then they’d share the beauty of His transforming love. They were just ordinary people that God had saved and raised up to be powerful men and women of Him. They were sharing their stories to testify of God’s goodness and mercy, of His power and unfailing love.

Revelation 12:11NIV says, “They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony;…” I believe there is a releasing of His power when we speak the words to share our testimony.

[Rejected. Lonely. Confused] Adopted & fathered as an heir of Christ!

We recently made cardboard testimonies (on wood pieces) with our youth group. In preparation for asking our teens to make their signs, JRB and I made our own before service to demonstrate what we’d be doing. Which meant we had to figure out what on earth we would put on our signs. In thought, it’s easy. In action, it’s not. Breaking it down into 1-5 words per side is a lot harder than I imagined. So I prayed. “God, what do I write on this sign?”

As I mentioned, I was never quite sure what my testimony was. The issue I had was that I was a good girl. I never smoked, did drugs, or even tasted alcohol. I didn’t have sex before marriage. I obeyed the laws, I followed the rules. I didn’t cuss or speak vulgarly. This all made me feel like I didn’t really even have a testimony, because if there isn’t anything soul-stirring about my story, how would it help draw people to Jesus?

In the weeks before we made our signs, God spoke to my heart. He showed me that one of the main reasons why I was that good girl growing up came from a place of fear. Yes, a lot of it had to do with my personality and my honest desire to honor my parents and be obedient. I was never a follower so I wasn’t really tempted by peer pressure to conform to what everyone else was doing. But now I know that a major portion of me clung to my identity as a good girl because I was afraid. 

When He gave me this revelation, I knew He had also given me the words for my sign. On my before side, you’ll read:

Slave to Fear

[Fearful]

Afraid of not being good enough.

Afraid of being imperfect.

Afraid of doing something wrong.

Afraid of breaking the rules.

I deeply feared these things and it was that fear that kept me in bondage. One (sadly true) example of how fear had me in chains: I hated attending different churches because my mind was consumed with the unspoken “rules” - do we raise our hands during worship, is it frowned upon to leave the sanctuary during service for a potty break, what’s the protocol for when I stand and sit?? Not knowing the rules of places and things, whether stated or unspoken, caused me severe anxiety. 

Because if I don’t know the rules, how can I be sure not to break them?!

It’s not a big deal to some people, but my thought process about it was skewed by fear - if I break a rule, that’s bad. And being bad is the opposite of being good. Ergo, if I break a rule, whether intentional or not, I go from being a good girl to being a bad one. In the back of my mind, the fear would whisper, “Will Jesus still love me if I’m no longer good?” 

On the after side of my sign, you’ll read:

Living in Grace

[Grace-Full]

I’m now embarking on an adventure with my Abba of learning to live in a place of His grace rather than a place of fear. Along the way, I’m discovering that His grace truly is sufficient for me, in every aspect of my life. And I’m learning to have grace on myself in the moments when I blunder or mess up. I’m not a finished product yet, I still struggle with those fears. But God’s love covers me in the process and He’s gently teaching me that it’s my choice whether to react in fear or to trust in grace. Fear causes me to freak out over not being good enough. Grace allows me to be at peace knowing that I don’t have to earn His love nor strive to be good enough - I am fully loved by Him exactly as I am. I can trust that His grace covers my mistakes and inadequacies - before Him I stand flawless. 

Testimonies can be such powerful things. I think it’s important for us to know what ours is so that we can share our story when God prompts us. In addition to telling our stories to help lead others to Christ, I believe one of the biggest reasons we need to share our testimonies is simply this - to give honor and glory to Whom it is due by testifying of His great love for us, of His unfailing kindness. Because He is worthy, oh so worthy of all my praise.

[Did Everything My Way] Surrendered to God's Way

“I’ll tell the world how great and good You are, I’ll shout Hallelujah all day, every day.” Psalms 35:28MSG

When our story focuses on Him and all He is to us, that’s when our testimonies can bring change. In us, it’s just a story. With Him, it becomes life-changing. The power of Jesus in our stories is the encouragement someone out there may need to surrender to a new testimony of their own, a shift in their story of when His love invades and consumes.

“If I should speak then let it be

Of the grace that is greater than all my sin

Of when justice was served and where mercy wins

Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in

Oh to tell you my story is to tell of Him”

So, Friends, let me ask you this: what would you write for your cardboard testimony?

*Photo found on Pinterest

*The testimony pictures you’ve seen throughout this post are some of my friends and family who were awesome enough to make their signs for me. Kudos and a huge thanks to each one of you!!

a glimpse of messy

With all the ways of staying connected and keeping people updated on our lives through social media these days, I’ve come to this conclusion:

Instagram and Facebook can be quite intimidating.

Y’all are some truly beautiful people! Every hair in place and make-up just right with the perfect expression on your lovely faces. And the way even when you’re having a messy hair day and you’re make-up free you still manage to look gorgeous. 

Seriously, how do you do that?!

*Photo found on Pinterest

It all seems so easy for you from my end. You just snap a picture and voila, perfect shot. Which is intimidating ‘cause sometimes it takes ten or twelve shots for me to get a picture I’m happy with. What appears to come so naturally to you, being totally photogenic, seems like such a hassle for me. 

While I was scrolling through my newsfeed and admiring all the many beautiful posts the other day, I was reminded of a quote I once saw: “The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel.” 

I began to wonder if maybe we’re not so different after all. Sure, I see the one beautiful photo of you that you post, but maybe it took you eight tries before you finally got one you liked. I’m privy to all my behind-the-scenes shots, but you only get to see my highlight reel. And I began to ponder the possibility that it could be the same way for you…

Anywho - that's not actually what this post is about. It was just all brought on because I was thinking of the pictures JRB and I would be taking to mark our two year wedding anniversary. I love taking pictures with my hubby. Snapping a photo that will capture our many together moments. Having those momentos from our life as Mr. & Mrs.

*A random and fun photo we took on our anniversary. I adore him <3

The thing is, I wanted to feel and look beautiful in the photos I knew I'd be taking to mark the day, but I’ve been really deep in a serious battle with my health the past two weeks. I won’t go into all the details, but it’s been really hard. There’s been tremendous pain, extreme nausea, collapsing from weakness, too much weight loss. There’ve been numerous doctor visits and hospital trips for multiple tests to be done, only to keep being told that everything looks normal and they still can’t figure out what’s wrong with me. It was one struggle after another, with nothing letting up to make way for the next hurdle. Needless to say, I wasn't feeling all that pretty...

I’d been enmeshed in this draining battle and I just felt like I had nothing left in me to give for the photos. I didn’t have the energy to do my hair nor the desire to put on make-up. I just wanted to curl up with my heating pad and hope that my pain and nausea meds would kick in quick enough to keep me from being taken to the ER. I didn’t have the energy to do the things I normally enjoy doing and this time it just felt like I'd be putting on a mask that would say that I’m okay while inside I’d be feeling the opposite.

As I was looking in the mirror on the morning of our anniversary (which happened to fall on Labor Day this year) and trying to figure out what to do with myself in preparation for the photos, one word popped into my mind, "real." I knew then that what I wanted to do was just be me. Be who I am and feel what I was feeling. I didn’t want to do any fake photos, I wanted ones that would show the reality of the day.

Because while the stories all talk about how things are easy once you fall in love and the happily-ever-after is filled with intimate smiles and amazing sunsets, the reality is that, while there are those things, it’s not all unicorns and lollipops. And you know what? I think the beauty of the choice to love in the hard times outshines the choice to love in the easy ones. Anyone can love when it’s easy, but the ones who choose to love when it’s tough, when life is full of questions and doubts and you’re not really sure when the storm is going to pass or if you’ll get your rainbow <—— to me, that’s the most beautiful love of all.

That’s what I decided I wanted to be shown in this years photos. That despite the fact that we’re in the midst of a rough season, my husband still proudly stands by my side and chooses love. Though my hair wasn’t all that cute and the only effort I put into my make-up was wearing chapstick, he still looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman in his world because to him, I am.  I want to look back on those pictures in fifteen years and remember the way JRB loved me in the midst of all this. I want the pictures to be a reminder of God’s goodness to me, of how I am richly blessed even when my body fails me.

*Photo found on Pinterest

Real.

“Finding freedom in being real” - it's the tagline for my blog. It’s the hashtag that’s connected to all these posts. It’s what I try to be with every word I type. 

In the past, I’ve always written these posts after the attack has come. I’ve felt the nudge to write once I’m through a particular season. I share with you what I learned during the struggle, but it’s previously been after the battle has passed. But as I thought on what it meant to be real with y’all, I felt the Lord prompting me to write the post this time while I’m still in the fight. I feel like He was telling me to be real with you even when my “real” isn’t all that tidy. When I’m a mess of questions and doubts, while I’m drained and weary from the constant fight. I feel like this time, to be genuine and real, I was nudged to write the post when I haven’t yet reached the conclusion of this particular attack. I'm still waking up every morning and facing this on-going struggle. 

When I made the decision to just be me in the photos without doing my hair or make-up, I was thinking of you too. Weird? Not to me. And maybe not to you either once I explain..

I was thinking that maybe one of you readers is facing a similar struggle and you’re simply too weary to keep putting on the happy face. You, Friend, I was thinking of you. And I truly desire for you to know that you are not alone. It’s okay to simply be you and feel what you’re feeling. It’s okay to let others see that you’re having a rough time. You have permission to not be okay every moment of your day. 

Because isn’t it when we’re being real, when we’re being open and honest about how we’re doing, that beautiful things happen? Friendships are formed and bonds are strengthened. When we allow people to see our messy instead of only showing them our tidy and put-together, we allow them to see the real us. And by allowing them that, we let them know it’s safe for them to show their real selves too. It creates an atmosphere of authenticity and that is a wonderful thing.

*More random photos from our anniversary day. No make-up, messy hair. 

Being brave and being real.

For a week I faced this battle with only my immediate family knowing what all was happening. It wasn’t intentional on my part, I just didn’t think to let anyone else know what was going on. Then my mom encouraged me to open up to some trusted friends and prayer warriors and request they be praying for me. Once I did, they began responding with some much needed encouragement, Truths I desperately needed to be reminded of as I weather this storm. 

Some of the most encouraging words came via text from my bestie. I poured out my heart to her and, in response, she helped get my focus off my circumstances and back on my Creator. This amazing woman of God is one of my most treasured blessings - I am forever thankful for the bond we share. (Rooster, I love you like W.H.O.A.! - Cow)

We were not meant to do life alone.

If you're facing a battle right now that has you feeling run down and weary, I encourage you to reach out your hand and grasp onto those who are just waiting for you to grab hold. Whether it be a family member, a close friend, or even me (truly, take that part seriously. I’m here if you’d like to talk.) You have people on your side who are willing to face the battle with you. It's okay to admit you're tired and you need someone to remind you that there's still hope. Take a brave step and be real.

Because it's okay to not be okay, but we can't give up and stay there, Friends. Not Okay isn't meant to be our homeland so let's not set up camp there.

While sitting here and trying to decide how to end this post, these words come to mind that I wrote to my husband on our anniversary. For whatever reason I now feel led to say them to you.

“There’s more headed our way. Life doesn’t really stand still, time keeps passing. There are storms ahead, as well as fields of wildflowers. We’ll learn how to dance in both.”

*Dancing with my Love at our engagement photo shoot

**Photo Credit to Jodi Bodtke with Giving Tree Photography

Bunny Trail Pondering

Have you ever listened to Steven Curtis Chapman’s song, “Fingerprints of God”? I mean have you stopped what you’re doing, closed your eyes, and just listened to the lyrics? The chorus goes:

I can see the fingerprints of God

When I look at you

I can see the fingerprints of God

And I know it’s true

You’re a masterpiece

That all creation quietly applauds

And you’re covered with 

The fingerprints of God

*Photo found on Pinterest

I don’t remember the first time I heard this song, but I do recall the time period when the words started penetrating my brain and the message behind them left me pondering what that looked like in my life. What did having His fingerprints on me mean? I was around 12 or 13 at the time and what caught my attention was the first verse of the song:

I can see the tears filling your eyes

And I know where they’re coming from

They’re coming from a heart that’s broken in two

By what you don’t see

The person in the mirror

Doesn’t look like the magazine

Oh, but when I look at you it’s clear to me that…

As a preteen girl, these lyrics really struck me because of the truth in them. I don’t have a memory of a time that I literally cried because I didn’t look like the models in magazines, but I did grow up feeling insecure and somehow less than other girls, always feeling like I came up short in the arena of comparisons. 

Hearing these lyrics really got me thinking about what God’s fingerprint may look like on me. I grew up hearing verses like Genesis 1:27 where we’re shown how “God created mankind in His own image” and Psalm 139:14 that says we are “fearfully and wonderfully made”. Combining my knowledge of these verses and Mr. Chapman’s song together led me down a bunny trail of thoughts that culminated in the final destination of this: 

If God is my Father, what part of Him did I inherit?

Did I get His eyes, will people know I’m His daughter by this feature? Did I get His sense of humor (you know He has one, Friends. I mean, just look at the platypus!)? Did I get His mannerisms, the way I talk with my hands or constantly shift my feet? Do I walk like Him, talk like Him, resemble Him?

In my young girl mind, being someone’s child meant the child had to have some recognizable characteristic of the parents' in them. Why did I think this was the way it goes? Because I’ve been told my whole life how much I look like my momma. People who don’t even know me know I’m her daughter because of how I look. I simply smile and they know who I belong to. People who haven’t seen her in years have come to our home and mistaken me for her when I answer the door. 

*Momma and I with my beautiful niece :)

For some girls this may be torture, always hearing how much they resemble their mother. That wasn’t the case for me though. I’ve always received it as an extreme compliment when someone tells me how much I look like Momma. People travel the world, traipsing across the globe in search of ultimate beauty, some sight that will make their hearts sigh from it’s magnificence. I’ve only ever needed to gaze upon my mother to see that. She’s more perfect to me than a Tony Stromberg photograph. Looking like her is a trait I treasure.

So my younger self wanted to know, what trait(s) of His did I get?

Now my (only slightly) older self wants to know, what trait(s) of His do I embody?

Is it my eyes, do I see others the way He does? Is it my sense of humor, am I able to laugh at things rather than making mountains out of molehills? Is it in my smile that my Father becomes recognizable? Do I maybe walk like Him? Do I talk like Him? Do I love like Him?

How am I known as my Father’s Daughter?

The innocent bunny trail pondering of my brain when I was younger led to a change in my life, a shift in my thinking. I grew from never really giving it much thought if people knew I was a Christian to wanting people to know Whom I belong to, Whose child I am. 

*Photo found on Pinterest

I want to be a mirror that reflects my Abba’s image to a world in desperate need of seeing Him. With everything that’s happening in this world, it’s so very apparent that people are longing for Love but they’re distracted by culture’s cheap imitation of it. They’re investing in something so temporary, when there’s a far more permanent and eternal Love just waiting for them.

It’s a Love I know, a Love I have inside of me to share. If you’re a follower of Christ, it's a Love you have too.

The course we're called to as His children is this: to stop worrying about self-image and instead focus on being Christ’s image. We need to be Jesus with skin on.

*Photo found on Pinterest

While writing this post I kept saying to God, "I have no idea where this is going. This is not at all what I had planned..." It seemed too random to me, like my brain's just going from one thing to another instead of staying on a straight writing path. Then I realized that is a perfect way for this post to go, because it's a bunny trail of thoughts that started this whole thing in the first place.

 It's amazing what sorts of things God can reveal to you and teach you when you embark upon adventures along mental bunny trails...