it's all a gift.

I've wondered why in the world I, of all people, ended up on this path. I'm not cut out for it in so many ways and I've questioned God why he didn't change the outcome when I was praying for reconciliation. 

I went from living at home, to a couple years of college, to married life. And in those 13 years of marriage, I never saw a bill or a bank statement. I never mowed a lawn. I never had to take care of my car. I signed things when they were placed in front of me and didn't ask too many questions. I knew nothing about how to be financially responsible and manage a home.

I'm a terrible single parent. If there's another adult around I generally have the patience of a saint. But leave me with three WILD, RAUCOUS, boys all alone and my resources are depleted within minutes. I get stressed anytime there's too much noise and chaos and unfortunately that's the status quo with three boys. 

I thought God wouldn't ever allow my marriage to dissolve because he knows my weaknesses when it comes to love and dating. I don't do single life well. I crave love and affection and companionship and had a few rough months last year when I was thrown to the wolves. There are a lot of men out there who will devour their prey. Dating in your 30's is a lot different than dating at 16. 

Too hard. Not cut out for this. I can't do it. 

I was incredibly honored and excited when Lisa Leonard's team contacted me and said they'd like me to be in their family of influencers. I clicked over to her blog and the first thing that popped up was a post called, "The Unexpected Gift". 

Here's a snippet of the words that made tears well up in my eyes: 

“Let the tears come.” whispered God. “Every tear you cry makes room for more joy than you can imagine.” 

The ache in my heart was almost too much to bear. There were times I was sure my heart would break into a million tiny pieces. It was an ache so deep it seemed to come from a place inside me I didn’t know was there.

“I know you’re hurting.” whispered God. “This ache is because I am growing and stretching your heart to make room for a love deeper than you can imagine.”

With time my gift began to change me.

After a while it didn’t feel quite so heavy.

The tears made room for joy. So much joy.

My heart grew and stretched to make room for love. So much love.

As the darkness subsided, rays of light began to break through and something unexpected emerged.

Beneath the tears, heartache and darkness I saw my gift.

Hope. So much hope.

It filled me up. My hope was light and bright and good. It was so beautiful my soul could hardly take it. 

God explained, “You had to walk through darkness to see the light. You had to cry heavy, salty tears to make room for joy. You had to ache deep in your heart to make room for love. This was the only way I could give you my true and lasting Hope.”

“Thank you.” I said. “The darkness has subsided and I can see more clearly. My tears have dried and made room for joy. My heart is bigger and I can love more deeply. I have hope. Hope is a gift more precious and beautiful than I ever imagined.”

This ring on my finger is a reminder of all the tears of pain carving out room for more hope and joy than I could have imagined. It's all a gift.  

a new leaf

Where does one begin when walking through something of this magnitude? I've avoided blogging for the sheer fact that I don't know what to write anymore. (Well, that, and Instagram kinda took over the world.) For a year and a half I was clinging, fighting, clawing, scraping at any shred of hope for reconciliation. My prayers were cries to God to restore and redeem. But what do you do when those prayers you spent so many tear-filled nights praying aren't answered? The only thing I know to do is cling to hope that the restoration and redemption is still to come. It just might look entirely different than the picture I had in my mind. I choose to believe God can do more work in me and through me as a divorced woman. I heard someone say, "sometimes God allows what He hates, in order to accomplish what He loves." I honestly don't know if that is biblically sound. Maybe the bottom line is this world is full of sin and we're all taking detour after detour off the path He originally called us to walk. But I do know God uses the most painful parts of our stories to open our eyes and make us more like Him. And the closer our heart beats to the heart of Christ, the more we will accomplish for His kingdom. So ultimately I do think He'll be able to use me more now that I'm somewhat of a cast-off. An outsider.

I read a Jen Hatmaker quote back in March that gave me permission to open my hands and let go.

"That broken thing you keep trying to put back together can't even compare to that beautiful thing waiting to be built. Doesn't hindsight tell us this is true? Sometimes we go back to the same well and try again, but sometimes we lay it down, acknowledge our lessons, grieve what is just not going to be, and move on to something new and healthy and beautiful. No matter what we've lost, we can still build anew." 

Please hear me on this--this quote is not an excuse to give up. I never gave up. I was in it 100% until the bitter end. I never stopped doubting we'd be restored until that door was firmly closed. But there comes a point where no amount of praying, pleading, and apologizing will change another human's heart. I believe God is sovereign and I'm trusting that if there was still something to fight for, He would have given me at least an inkling of hope. I'm thankful my boys have two parents who are committed to put their well-being first, which often means laying hurt and frustration aside and making room for peace. And that extends out to both sides of the family because we are not the only five people affected by this.

Starting next week my life will look very different than it did a few years ago. I'm moving again, into a smaller house. This will be the third move for me in a little over a year. I'm not excited about the process of moving again (that's putting it politely. I have lots of curse words in my head.) but I'm excited about the new little house I'll be in with a beautiful kitchen and screened-in porch. This house in the woods has been a beautiful retreat and has so much potential but it's too much for me. This house was initially supposed to be ours to work on and grow in together as a family of five. It's completely impractical for a single mom. I will miss my porch swing and the beautiful views out every window and the cozy cabin feel. I will not miss all the bugs and mice inside my house or the appliances from the 1980's. Thankfully it will still be a part of the boys' life since their dad will live in it for the foreseeable future.

I'll also be starting a full-time job on Monday. And because I know some of you will ask, I'll be the executive assistant to the general manager of a golf and country club. I had a couple interviews that didn't work out when I was first searching. It was mildly defeating and very overwhelming to have to find something I could support myself on. I answered several Craigslist postings and this was one of them. It checked every single box I had in my head for my ideal job. None of the others I was applying for even came close. And just to heap on some extra blessings and reassurance that God's got my back, I'll get to eat lunch and dinner at the country club with the staff every single day. 1/3 of my meals completely covered every week. I obviously have very mixed emotions about leaving my role as stay-at-mom and being away from my kids so much but I'm mostly excited. I haven't been a good mama to them. As the stress in my life has built up around me and affected my mental, emotional and physical health, I haven't been able to handle the stress of parenthood. And I know they're suffering for it. I'm looking forward to quality time with them, rather than quantity.

I have not handled all of this separation and divorce stuff perfectly. I've said things to the kids that I've regretted. I've acted selfish and entitled about my time alone. I've often turned my back on God and instead distracted myself with anything and everything to fill the void of loneliness. I've doubted God's ability to satisfy my aching and parched soul. The list is endless and ugly.

And yet. 

And yet time and time again He has extended his hand and waited for me to grasp it. And even when I've refused to hang on, He says, "No matter. I love you all the same. And I'll show you just how much you matter to me and just how trustworthy I am." I received a brand new professional camera as a gift from a dear friend just a couple weeks ago. This was something that would have taken me months to save for but that I've desperately needed to push my business to the next level. And I know it wasn't a gift that was easy for them to pay for. It cost them something. I know they had to give something up in order for me to receive it. But all I had to do was accept it for what it was. Love. I pulled it out of the box and I felt the weight of it in my hand. And then the tears just started streaming down my face and didn't stop for a long time. It was such a physical reminder of all that God has done and will continue to do for me. I felt the weight of his love for me in that moment.

I will forever wear the title, 'divorced'. It's not some shiny badge people admire. There is so much judgment that goes along with that. I know because I used to be one of those people, judging away and making assumptions about those people's lives and kids and walks with God. And as things have gotten more public, I've had to accept the fact that people are going to assume a lot of things about me that aren't true and people are going to talk. People are going to blame and choose sides and it often hurts. But in those moments I've learned to tune out the lies. And tune in to God's voice about who I am in and through Him. I am beautiful in His eyes and fully loved and fully forgiven. I'll just mentally stick that badge right over top of the big D-word. I'm going to keep making mistakes. Every day, every hour. I will never live a perfect day in my life. But that sin doesn't separate me from God. It makes me aware of how closely in step I need to walk with Him. He's fully aware of our humanity and He's not mad about it.

I'm not out of this winter season. I won't be for some time. These days are still extraordinarily heavy and hard. Every day of my life has felt like a struggle for nearly two years now. But they've been sprinkled through with just enough blessings to keep my head above water and filled with people who have loved and supported me so well. I love Colossians 1:11 and I want it to radiate from every fiber of my being but I'm not quite there yet.

We pray that you'll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul--not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory strength God gives. It is the strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that he has for us. 

Angela Thomas' book, My Single Mom Life, was one big gulp of fresh air. I couldn't get enough. Every single mom needs to read it. If you know one, send it to her. 'Cause she probably can't afford it. ;) I'll end with her words that lift my spirit in an instant:

Hey, you with the heavy load. Lay it down. Just put it all right here in front of Me. All your dreams and your insecurities and your pain. Everything those kids want you to be. All your worry and the responsibilities that are too much for one woman to bear. The disappointment over how life turned out. Your weakness and your weariness and your aching body. The constant needs that never go away and the little battles that just rip out your joy. Lay it down and come to Me. Come in your ordinary. It's OK. I do extraordinary work with ordinary women like you. These circumstances will not win. Love has the final say. 

Yeah. That.

waiting for spring

I haven't been blogging lately. (Besides my occasional mini-blogs on Instagram.) Its hard to write about life when I know what people are hoping to hear and I just can't report that. It makes me want to hide a little bit. But God has brought me this far and I know He's still moving. I don't need to be ashamed and hang my head because I haven't experienced redemption in my marriage.

You know this season we're in right now? The literal season? I like to think of it as The Great Thaw. Winter's over. Spring is slowly and steadily making her presence known. The weather's a bit all over the place. The temperatures still drop to uncomfortable levels and we might even see a bit more snow before all is said and done but the worst is behind us and so the cold days just don't bother us nearly as much anymore. We survived that bitter winter and we get to revel in that fact another year. Not only did I survive it but I even thanked God for it every now and then.

What good is the warmth of summer without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?                                                                                                          -John Steinbeck

I really felt that and believed that this winter. I knew it wouldn't last forever and I wanted to appreciate it for what it was and for what it does for our spirits. Not in spite of the weather but because of the weather. We have to dig deep to truly feel thankful for it and we have to search hard for beauty that isn't obvious to most people. But it's possible. And our character becomes a little more beautiful because of it. (This may sound a bit melodramatic to some, but then you surely haven't experienced several years of a Midwest winter.)

This is the exact season I feel like I'm in right now. I feel like The Great Thaw is happening in my own life. I haven't tasted the sweetness of spring yet but I feel the pokes and prods of hope slowly making their way up through the hard, frozen, bitter soil of my life. Life still feels like a struggle. It's still hard and sad and lonely. But I feel the thaw. There were eighteen months that felt like a living hell. So I'm guessing this pre-Spring season won't be over any time soon. I'm sure my days will still be all over the place, just like the weather. The good ones will be mixed with dark ones that leave my heart clenched and my face tear-stained and my prayers just a cry of, "why me? Why this?" But those days are fewer and farther between.

My boys seem to be doing better these days too and I'm sure that's directly correlated to their mom remembering to smile more, and that silliness is always the best cure for the grumpies. I'm enjoying them again and enjoying being their mom again and that feels really good. I could look back on the mom I was for a year and a half with guilt and shame and regret or I could look back on that version of me with grace. I can say to her, you did a damn good job loving and caring for those boys when you felt like the life was sucked right out of you and getting out of bed was a victory in and of itself.

To that person at the beginning of your desert season, just take the next step. Just make it through the day today and thank God for every single little victory along the way. Like, maybe you remembered to brush your teeth. Or you fed your kids a vegetable today. ;) Unclench your fists and open your heart. Its gonna hurt like hell but there's a beauty in your heart that hasn't been revealed yet. And when it is, His love will shine through you so much brighter than you could have imagined.

And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.                                                                                                          Romans 5:2-5

a sacrifice of thanks.

I'm not sure how to put into words what last weekend felt like. Our first major holiday as a truly separated couple. It felt heavy and hard and gritty and vulnerable. But on the other hand, it lifted my spirits to have my immediate family in my house all weekend, so it was life-giving at the same time. I've said before that the constant dull ache of loneliness is the hardest thing to live with (even months and months into this), so having people in my house make that ache disappear and makes me feel more human again. I'm an introvert. I crave quiet and alone time desperately. But I've realized how terribly we all need companionship. This quote has been swirling through my head since I read it several weeks ago:

"To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything." -Tim Keller

This season has made me feel so very human. So very lacking. I look at my daily life and feel like I'm just barely holding on to any thread of sanity. I feel like the biggest loser in my role as a stay-at-home mom these days. Truly, though, I'm not writing these things to garner sympathy or encouragement (though that is always welcome.) But I know there are other women who need to know they're not alone down there at rock bottom. And for that reason I continue to write. And I'm not just here to say, "hey, I'm down here too." I'm here to say He's down here too. I listened to a quick Brene Brown clip that a dear friend sent me and my favorite part said something along the lines of, "our relationship with Jesus isn't supposed to look like an epidural that takes away all of our pain. It's supposed to look like the midwife who sits with us in the pain." My future has never looked more uncertain in my life. But I stand firm in the knowledge that my life is secure in God's hands. My mind can race a mile a minute thinking about all the what if's and following bunny trail after bunny trail. These thoughts are utterly endless when divorce is a looming threat. But on good days I cut those thoughts short. I remind myself of all of the verses about worry and what good it actually does. (None. Worse than none. It's harmful.) And then I just let my thoughts linger on heaven. That's always far more comforting than sitting with my worry, growing in my mind like a snowball racing out of control down a hill. I was telling a group of my closest friends about where things are currently and they told me I sounded at peace. I'm thankful that came through in my voice because that is how I feel. My house does not feel peaceful. My daily life feels anything but peaceful. But I have peace down in the depths of my soul.

Here are some snapshots of our Thanksgiving day. I haven't done a post with lots of pictures lately because I haven't picked up my big camera much. It was fun to capture this day. I hope I look back at these pictures and see God in all of it.

They played with the kinetic sand all morning. And instead of the usual lava pits and animals sinking to their death in quicksand, it was all cakes and cookies and biscuits. I love having girls in my house.

 My mama gettin' her bacon on in the kitchen.

Sisters doing what we do best. Watching our mama cook while drinking all the coffee and mimosas. (We have an older brother too, by the way. He lives outside of Yosemite in California and is currently on vacation in Argentina with our sister-in-law.)

We all still joined my in-laws for Thanksgiving dinner because that's what we've always done. It was a lovely day despite everything. We've still done family things together and I'm thankful for that for my boys.

Nana's give the best snuggles: 

Channing snuggled right up with his great grandma and stayed there for a long time. I know this was the highlight of her day and it warmed my heart that she felt cherished. Nothing like a baby crawling in your lap to make you feel loved.

This Christmas season feels scary to walk through. My heart aches and my stomach clenches when I see pictures of people decorating Christmas trees and doing festive family things together. That was supposed to be us. This was never supposed to be us. And I think of all the other broken homes-- separation, divorce, a death, military wives...I know I'm not the only one putting on a brave face but feeling a bit like you're crumbling inside. Just because I'm at peace, doesn't mean I'm not feeling all of the crushing heartache for what I'm missing. For what my boys are missing. But sometimes I think about the person I was before I went through this. I had sympathy for the woman who lost her husband or for the newly divorced or the military wife who had to tough out a year without her husband. But I couldn't have understood that depth of hurt and loneliness if I'd tried. (And I did try.) And so I thank God for everything that deepens my character and drives me closer to him and makes me more humble and aware of His grace. And for everything that opens my eyes wider to the hurting around me.

There are people who have loved me so well through this season. My friends, both near and far, have come through for me time and time again. I had a friend mail me a box with 25 gifts wrapped up for me to open each day in December. I had tears rolling down my cheeks as I called her to thank her. That sort of generosity blows me away. To feel remembered and cherished is the best feeling in the world. I hope to have hundreds of opportunities to bless others in situations like mine down the road. I'd encourage you to bless a single mom in some way in the next few weeks. She will most assuredly cry and love you forever.

If this post resonated with you in some way, jump over to my girl, Shannan's blog post, When You're Not Merry Yet. Because sister's got a gift for words and she tells it like it is and tells it like it should be. God bless her for it.

Your story matters.

"What will the world miss if you do not tell your story?" 

I went to the Storyline Conference in Chicago last weekend. My dearest friend in Des Moines told me she was going come hell or high water and I could join her if I wanted. It was very affordable (they offered a "pay what you want" price.) and I had transportation and lodging provided so uh, yeah. No-brainer. (And I also have a husband who travels a lot for work removing any guilt associated with leaving him alone with the kids for a weekend.) 

I didn't really know what I was in for. The web site was kind of vague-ish. The lineup of speakers was incredible, though, so I had pretty high hopes that I was in for an inspiring weekend. 

Donald Miller (of Blue Like Jazz fame) led three of the main sessions. I've only read half of one of his books but I now want to read ALL of all of them. I was laughing through all of his talks,(LOUDLY. Why do I always feel like I'm the loudest laugher in my section?? This is a warning if you ever come to a comedy show with me. I will laugh embarrassingly loud through the whole thing.) while voraciously taking in everything he was saying. I'm not usually a note-taker but I couldn't write fast enough. 

He talked a lot about taking ownership of our story, not to just react to things happening to us but to be co-creators of a meaningful life. And most importantly, not to fear conflict but be willing to engage it. There were so many great tidbits, I'll try to narrow it down to a few: 

• When someone doesn't feel like they have meaning, they numb themselves with pleasure. (I think this is especially true for teenagers but obviously carries through into adulthood.)
• What do I want? If somoene asked those closest to me and they couldn't answer, we're not living a strong story. 
• Narrative is the most powerful tool to compel a human being and change someone's world view. (I love this one. It's why churches use testimonies so often. It's one thing to hear the gospel. It's another thing entirely to hear how the gospel has changed someone's life.) 
• What if your kids learned from your story what was worth living and sacrificing for? 
• Forgiveness is accepting the burden somebody has given you while no longer holding it against them.
• The Christian life has become so easy and comfortable and non-revolutionary--far different than any story in the Bible. The Christian life is an invitation into a very difficult story. (Phew. That one is so convicting to me.)

We also heard powerful talks from Glennon Melton-Doyle, Shauna Niequist, Scott Hamilton, Michael Hyatt and Bob Goff, along with four spoken word pieces by Propaganda. (Can we talk about Bob Goff for a minute? I don't have words to describe what it's like to listen to him. You don't just sit and listen to him. You experience him. I could have sat there for eight more hours to listen to his stories. The man has a gift and it's changing the world.) I just sat there, like a dry sponge, soaking it all in. I loved God's timing of this conference in my life. I heard another person say, "That conference was for me. Everyone else just showed up." I felt the exact same way. Turns out, there are a lot of people out there on the cusp of living out great stories. I wished I could have connected with each one just to find out what story they were co-authoring with God. 

That's the thing we, as believers, need to let wash over us and then let sink in. God knows every detail of our story. But He didn't write it for us. I do believe He is completely sovereign and directs people's paths with gentle nudges (or sometimes a swift kick in the butt) but He is absolutely not a puppeteer. He placed that pen in each of our hands. He sends us off with great responsibility on our shoulders to live lives worthy of our namesake as His children. Thankfully He's there with us every step of the way. Sometimes we get it right, often times we get it wrong, but His safety net of grace is always big enough to catch us when we trip and fall, no matter how hard or far. And the beauty of walking in step with our co-author is that when we take those bruises and bloodied knees from a fall to Him in prayer, He uses them to shape our character to become more like Christ every time. 

Bob Goff used an example of hiking up a mountain behind a guide. "If you have a guide you can trust, you don't have to worry about the path you're on." 

Principles of decision making by Garry Friesen. The Way of Wisdom:

1. Where God commands, we must obey. 

2. Where there is no command, God gives us freedom (and responsibility) to choose.

3. Where there is no command, God gives us wisdom to choose. 

4. When we have chosen what is moral and wise, we must trust the sovereign God to work all the details together for good.

So what does this mean for me in my life right now? For one thing, I know my voice is needed. Sure, there are people with similar stories, some who are far better writers or communicators than I will ever be, but there is no one with MY story and MY voice. And so I will keep sharing my story of a heart restored; of my shame and sin and lies and addictions being replaced with the fullness of the grace and love of Jesus. I don't know if my story has a happy ending on this earth. I don't know if my marriage will ever be restored. I don't know if my kids will ever see their mom and dad living under the same roof again. There are so many promises in the Bible of God working things together for good but as far as my limited Bible knowledge goes, there aren't any promises that God's going to replace our current trials and suffering with a happily-ever-after here on earth. Sometimes we mistake the word "blessing" with "easy" or "happy". 

I admit, I've let my current trial--a husband who doesn't want to be married to me anymore because of the pain I inflicted on him a handful of years ago through emotional infidelity--weigh me down. Over the last couple of months I've felt so defeated by depression and loneliness and sheer exhaustion that single-parenting three boys brings. I'm "doing" all the right things, so God should turn this ship around and restore our marriage, right? Gosh, I wish I could claim that part as a promise but it's not. Do I have hope that He can? Absolutely. Until the bitter end. But I CANNOT assume that's what God is saying when He says things are going to work together for good. 

I had some time alone this morning and I read Hebrews. I think the last time I sat and eagerly read through an entire book of the Bible was....never? I'm being honest here. I remember being about 18, in college and wondering if I'd ever really want to read the Bible. Like, really want to. This is the beauty of walking through a desert season- as the difficulties of our circumstances increase, so does our need for Jesus. 

If you're walking through your own personal desert, read Hebrews 11 and 12. Let's get our expectations straight. Chapter 11 talks about Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Sarah. 

Verse 13 (from The Message): 

"Each one of these people of faith died not yet having in hand what was promised, but still believing. How did they do it? They saw it way off in the distance, waved their greeting, and accepted the fact that they were transients in this world. People who live this way make it plain that they are looking for their true home. If they were homesick for the old country, they could have gone back any time they wanted. But they were after a far better country than that--heaven country. You can see why God is so proud of them, and has a City waiting for them."

I want to type out all of Chapter 12 here but I won't. Just go read it. (Read it in The Message version if you haven't before.)

This is the kind of hope I want rising deep from within my soul. Not a hope in my marriage or my own happiness here on earth but a hope that comes from knowing that one day I'll be in the presence of God for eternity and I want Him to be proud of me. I want to speak boldly what He's done in my heart. And I really want to love others well along the way. 

Donald Miller said, "God is so much more concerned about our character than our comfort." I don't want to squirm and writhe through the uncomfortable times. I want to lean into it. I want a huge perspective shift to happen down to my core, where I wake up in the morning and ask God, like Don said, "where is my pain bringing me today?" I think it's possible. I'm not there yet. I probably have a long way to go. But I don't doubt for a second that He can and will use my story in some small way. 

"I've learned to live my scars out loud because those are the fingerprints of the Lord."

 -Propaganda                    

(For more posts about my desert season, click on the "broken made beautiful" label below. If you're on a smart phone, you'll have to go to the full web version in order to do this.)       

still waters

Sometimes I get the itch to write. It comes on suddenly I can't do anything until I scratch it. My mind starts forming thoughts into words and they must be spilled out onto a page in order for them all to make sense.
If you're wondering if there's been progress on the marriage front, (because I would be too if I were you) there hasn't. At least in human terms. It feels like a stalemate. It feels like a stagnant pond that's starting to dry up. But I believe that under those still waters, there is a current I cannot feel or see with my human senses. I choose to believe that there is a battle, not of flesh and blood, but on a spiritual level for our marriage. (Eph 6:12) I can feel the enemy fighting hard for my heart, whispering lies, so many lies. That it's hopeless. That it's too far gone. That there's nothing left. That you'll be happier if you cut your losses and move on. So many people have done it too, it's not the end of the world.

And some days I feel myself believing those lies.

Tears come easily. Sleep does not. I haven't known a sadness like this. I haven't known suffering like this. It is hard and heavy and the ache sometimes recedes but it does not go away. The housework as a single mom threatens to bury me alive and the loneliness feels like it will engulf me at times. But most days I stop. I speak the name of my Jesus. The restorer of broken things. The redeemer of our ugly pasts. The gentle Savior who scoops me up out of my self-dug pit of pity time and time again. He whispers. Because He's so close to me, He doesn't have to shout. He whispers that He's not done. That those still waters run deep. And knowing that the God of the Universe is fighting for me, helps me walk, limp, drag my bruised and broken spirit forward another day, eyes wide open to see the blessings sprinkled along the way. There is always manna, enough for each day, a wise friend reminded me, as long as we're not too busy grumbling and complaining to see it. He provides cool streams in the middle of my desert.

My friend, Shannan, posted some incredible words the other day (well, she posts some incredible words almost every day but these were extra incredible this day) that applied so well to my circumstances. She heard these God breathed words during her own marriage impasse:

"See how hard the enemy is fighting to destroy you two? Just imagine what he's scared of. Just imagine the good you'll do with me, together."

And this is the part Shannan wrote that I feel like I'm just beginning to grasp:

God defies gravity, friends.He laughs at our foolish "logic" and our made-up psychobabble. He holds our world at a scary-sharp angle and says it's level.What feels real to us often isn't, and only when we take a hard look at His unbending love for us, His endless mercy for us, only when we're so desperate that we actually listen, can we begin to see straight.

There's not a lot that makes sense in my life right now. It feels like I took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up at a dead end far from Easy Street, where I was supposed to be cruising along. But I muster up enough trust somehow to believe that God has me here for a purpose far greater than my eyes can see. And that it's not a dead end after all but a road that's just covered in fog and as long as I keep my eyes on the Light, I'll make it out just fine in the end and with far more blessings than one could ever hope to collect on Easy Street.

If you're reading here for the first time, you can click here to read more of my story: Kelli & Vanessa- My Everyday Moms or you can also click the label at the bottom of this post.

Trial by Fire

Today is our 12th anniversary. It should be filled with cards, and flowers and the anticipation of a fantastic date night out. But it isn't. I've never before anticipated a date that I know will be filled with pain instead of celebration. Things crumbled last year around this time. Jon had been hurt by me a few years prior and despite plowing forward and attempting normalcy for a couple of years, the band-aid covering his gaping wounds just wouldn't hold any longer and so began my husband's retreat to try to find healing. I remember last summer being so sure it would just be a handful of months, but here we are a year later. The pain of separation isn't much easier. I'm just more used to the feeling of it.

I've found that people can fairly easily talk about those rough patches once they're back on smooth ground. But I don't hear people talking about it when they're stuck in the middle; at least not outside their trusted circle of family and friends. But you know what's even harder than walking through the toughest time in my life? Pretending I'm not. I can't and I won't. I will not put on a mask of perfection when my heart is aching on the best days and feels like it's being ripped in two on the worst days. I sometimes want to hang a sign around my neck that says, "Tread lightly. Broken heart inside."
People often tell me I'm brave for sharing my story. I don't feel brave. I feel free. I'm free of guilt and shame. I'm free of worrying about any sort of reputation that I may or may not have. Freedom in Christ is so very real in my life. And the more I talk, the more my story is in the light and able to be used for His glory. I want others to experience that same freedom. The sin in my past is ugly. But God is already redeeming it and I think I've only seen a fraction of the redemption to come.

Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you can live together whole and healed. -James 5:16 MSG

On this day, August 3rd, 2014, I choose joy. I have compassion and empathy for others that I didn't have a year ago. I have more grace and less judgment than I had a year ago. I have a much bigger faith than I did a year ago. And I have had far too many blessings to count this past year, particularly in the area of friendships. When I was at my loneliest, God flooded my life with incredible, deep, authentic friendships. But most importantly I have a desperate need for my Savior. There were times about six or eight months ago that I would honestly think, "God, I'm not sure I want this season to end because I don't ever want to stop needing you as desperately as I do right now." Being at your wit's end is sometimes the most beautiful place to be.
My friend once wrote a great blog post about what to do for a friend who's miscarried and I so appreciated it. (I'd link to it but I don't think it's live anymore.) So here are my tips if you have a friend walking through any sort of difficult and painful time:
Acknowledge it. Don't ignore it. If they know you know about it, ask them how they're doing. Sometimes the conversation is awkward when people ask me how I am (because I'm usually brutally honest) but I feel so incredibly loved by the people who do and sometimes hurt by the people who don't. Send a text or a card if the thought of bringing it up in person seems scary. If you're very close to them, find out their love language and meet it from time to time. You have to remember that someone in a marriage separation or recently divorced isn't receiving any sort of affection, besides from their kids. And although, I'm learning to rely on God and fully realize that He is and always will be enough, it sure does feel good to be loved by a friend. And lastly, buy them a copy of the Streams in the Desert devotional. I don't know where I'd be without it.

My life does not look at all what I imagined it would right now. I can't say yet that I wouldn't change it, although some parts I definitely would. But I trust that I'll be able to say that a few years from now. I just couldn't produce spiritual growth like this on my own terms if I tried. And I know its not in vain. I want to be used on this Earth for the kingdom. And if my broken and redeemed past and broken and someday redeemed marriage will ultimately bring Him glory, then I will continue to praise Him for this storm. My God is big. And He's got this.

Here's an excerpt from one of my favorite Streams in the Desert devos, because I can't ever quote that book enough:

We are to honor the Lord in the trial--in the very thing that afflicts us. And although there are examples where God did not allow His saints to even feel the fire, usually the fire causes pain.
It is precisely there, in the heat of the fire, we are to glorify Him. We do this by exercising perfect faith in His goodness and love that has permitted this trial to come upon us. Even more, we are to believe that out of the fire will arise something more worthy of praise to Him than had we never experienced it.
A person has only as much faith as he shows in times of trouble. The three men who were thrown into the fiery furnace came out just as they went in--except for the ropes that had bound them. How often God removes our shackles in the furnace of affliction!
This is the way Christians should come out of the furnace of fiery trials--liberated from their shackles but untouched by the flames.

Hope Spoken

I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to put into words what God placed on my heart this weekend at Hope Spoken in Dallas. At the end I was talking to Jami Nato (I am a shameless name dropper. Deal with it.) and she was like, "You have a blog right? Are you going to write a post about this? I'm not sure if I'm going to." And I was like, (in the calmest voice I could muster because...hello, I was talking to Jami Nato...who really made me feel like I had met Kristen Wiig in the flesh. Which makes it doubly amazing.) "I don't know if I'm going to write about it. It's just so personal. How do you even begin to put it into words?" But then I thought, it's too big not to. I have to try. Forgive me for the length. Sometimes I lack the ability to edit. It all seems important in my head.

(In case you are wondering, I did not play it cool. I was running up and attacking people all weekend professing my great love for them. It was usually well received ;) After the conference I was at lunch with several of these girls and was talking about my introvertedness and Joy Prouty said, "I have a really hard time believing you're an introvert." So evidently I'm an outgoing introvert. Who knew.) 

Here's the thing. I struggle with friendships. I struggle with connecting deeply with women. I moved around so much throughout my childhood, I was constantly wondering if people wanted to be my friend. I was constantly friends with people who already had a lifelong best friend so I often felt like sort of a third (or fifth) wheel. That, coupled with a family that was not very close-knit, I started making poor choices that made me feel better in the moment. A lot of poor choices that changed the course of who I became. That has carried through into adulthood. I still wonder if people really like me and want to be my friend. I have about two best friends (like deep, rich, fully connected friendships, where I don't doubt where I stand with them). One of them is here in Des Moines and one of them lives in California, who I only get to see once a year, if that. I've never had a group of friends I belong in. I wanted the 90210 or Saved by the Bell model where each one is a valued member of the group.
This weekend I became real life friends with a few women who I'd already developed incredibly deep, real friendships with over Instagram. Women I missed desperately and loved before I'd even met. I found my people. I found the women whom my soul longed for. This might sound crazy or overly-dramatic to some but I think most of you women will understand. That need for us to have women in our life who feel like true bosom buddies is a God-given real need. And I was just incredibly humbled by the lifelong (yes, I have no doubt they will be lifelong) friendships God finally brought me through social media and a weekend conference we all took a chance on. I'm humbled because they are all amazing women. Godly, kind, generous, funny, incredibly talented and beautiful women. Sherry, Kirby and Naomi- you each took home a good sized chunk of my heart.

And I was also incredibly humbled (and yes, a wee bit intimidated) that I got to hang out with some of the Blogger Greats, who's lives I've watched unfold for years. Unbelievably inspiring and talented women who are using their gifts for God's glory. I can now officially call each of them a friend and that still blows my mind a little (ok, a lot. I might have teared up when I saw my picture on Ashley's blog this morning.) I was hanging out in a hotel room with all of these women until the wee hours of the morning and sort of asking myself, "what the heck am I doing here? I do not belong here." But as the night went on, I felt myself connecting with these women and realizing, it's not about how big your blog is or how great you are at photography. They wanted to be my friend because they liked me as a person. (at least I think so ;) Our worth is found in Christ, not in the numbers at the top of our Instagram account. That was a profound moment for me that weekend.

(hotel shenanigans captured by Joy Prouty and stolen by me, with permission of course ;) 

my favorites. 

So you're probably starting to wonder if the weekend was just about the friendships for me. Half of it was. But half of it was an incredible awakening in Christ. A realization of just how big our God is. Hearing story after story all weekend of God's redeeming grace was a beautiful thing. It was literally a sob fest from Saturday morning until it was over on Sunday. No one could stop crying. I don't think I've cried so many tears in a 24 hour time period in my entire life. We started worship on Friday night and my heart was hard. I didn't want to sing because I knew I'd start crying and I wasn't ready for that yet. I was almost embarrassed by it; to admit that to myself and to God. I've been walking an extremely hard road in my marriage for the last few years and specifically for the last nine months, coupled with very long days of lots of single parenting with three boys who suck every last drop of my energy and patience on a daily basis. I'm not ready to share my story on here (and not sure if I ever will) but have opened up to a lot of people about it one on one.
My soul is walking through a parched desert and this weekend was a stream in that desert. And I believe there are many more to come.

     Isaiah 43:19 "See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? 

I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland."

Leslie Padgett gave an incredible talk that inspired new hope within me. My favorite analogy she used was the Verizon Wireless, "Can you hear me now?" guy. He starts in the middle of the city, asking, "Can you hear me now?" Then he moves somewhere a little more remote and a little more remote until he's in the absolute middle of nowhere. That's like what God does with us. We start out in the middle of our safe and happy little comfort zone and He asks, "Do you trust me now?" Then he makes us just a bit less comfortable and asks again. Then He keeps moving us further and further away from our comfort zone until our whole world is ripped apart and we feel like we're dangling on a precipice barely hanging on and He says, "Do you trust me now?" Boom. Hit me in the gut. And my heart cried out, "Yes. I trust you." I'm trusting Him to restore and redeem and to make a way in the wasteland. A new and beautiful thing. And I perceive it. I feel it trembling and bubbling up in my soul. But I have to wait. I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other in the middle of the desert. 

And maybe my favorite quote of the weekend by Lauren Chandler,

     "When he walks us through that desert, he wants us to know that we need Him more than we need that promised land." 

I was slowly closing up my heart. I was saying I had faith and hope but I think deep down I had lost a sliver of that faith and hope. Lauren said, "Your stuff...your situation is not too much! Are you calling My cross not enough??" I tend to limit God's abilities in my mind. I tend to put labels on what just *might* be too big for him. I ripped those labels off this weekend. The God of the universe, who created each and every person and unique personality knows exactly what needs to be done. He knows the exact number of days we'll walk through that wasteland. But if we're giving it up to him in faith and prayer, not a single day will be wasted. 

Hebrews 11:1 "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see"

There were a lot of stories shared this weekend. Stories of loss and hurt and heartache and pain. But God is the Great Redeemer. He put a girl in my car for the drive to and from Dallas who has walked an unbelievably hard road this past year. Like, the worst kind you could imagine. I won't tell her story but if you want to read it, you can here. I believe it was no accident God placed us side by side in that car, strangers before this weekend started. Two women who didn't have much in common but who's stories God wanted the other to hear. One of the most precious moments of the whole weekend came for me on that drive home when I was sharing my heart. Sharing about what God has taught me through a painful season. And, with tears streaming down her face, she said to me, "That might be the most profound thing I have heard all weekend." And I caught my breath and my heart skipped a beat and I just started repeating in my mind, "Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you Jesus." I am deeply humbled...I mean really and truly humbled...(and getting choked up just thinking about it) that God might use me. Little old me. A mess of a mom in Des Moines, Iowa. That He might use my story and my ability to be open and vulnerable to bring some healing to someone else. I will keep telling my story. And I will keep thanking Him for what He's brought me through.
I used to be slightly envious of other people's great faith and their closeness with God. I now know that's a foolish thing to be envious of. You just never know the fire they've walked through in order to gain that faith. 

from selfish to selfless

So, since I wrote this post, God's been opening my eyes and teaching me a lot.** And I think, perhaps, some of it may encourage you too, if you're in the thick of your mothering years. I don't often get a clear and direct message from God. Christianity isn't always about some holy golden light shining down onto your open Bible, highlighting the exact verse you need in any given moment. But, the cool thing is, sometimes it is. (Ok, there wasn't any light. But there may as well have been.)
I've mentioned the Jesus Calling devotional on here before. If you don't have a daily devotional and are like me, wondering what in the heck you're supposed to read in your daily "quiet time", or don't even have a daily quiet time because of that very reason, get it. It's quick and easy and soooo encouraging and applicable. I blogged about my complete lack of energy and time and my sometimes lack of patience on April 29th. On April 30th, my devotional said this:

When some basic need is lacking--time, energy, money--consider yourself blessed. Your very lack is an opportunity to latch onto Me in unashamed dependence. When you begin a day with inadequate resources, you must concentrate your efforts on the present moment. ... Awareness of your inadequacy is a rich blessing, training you to rely wholeheartedly on Me. ... Rejoice in your insufficiency, knowing that My Power is made perfect in weakness.

Woah. Did you see the golden light? Yeah, it was pretty cool.

Later that day I got an email from a wise old friend of mine (just kidding, she's not old. Just has wisdom beyond her years). These are her powerful words that she gave me permission to share:

I've been thinking a lot about this season. I'm trying to figure out how to adapt to a sacrificial lifestyle, and forgo my hopes for leisure. That's my problem, I'm constantly looking for a break when I really need to be dying to self.  This is my JOB. This is my calling, ministry, everything.  I must somehow find ease and enjoyment WHILE ministering to my kids/husband, and without being a martyr. And in the times that it is neither easy or enjoyable, find rest IN him. Matt 11:28 I'm still trying to figure out what exactly that looks like. Sometimes I pray for strength and I get it, and sometimes I don't feel like I get it. But I do have to get myself in a good thought pattern.  Like reminding myself of what I do and do not deserve. Which leads to me thinking about the Gospel, and that's always a good thing to dwell on.  

She set me a link to a great article (it's lengthy but worth a read if you're struggling with the whole dying to self thing). Here's a little snippet of it that resonated with me:

Giving up what you cannot keep does not mean giving up your home, or your job so you can go serve somewhere else. It is giving up yourself. Lay yourself down. Sacrifice yourself here, now. Cheerfully wipe the nose for the fiftieth time today. Make dinner again for the people who don’t like the green beans. Laugh when your plans are thwarted by a vomiting child. Lay yourself down for the people here with you, the people who annoy you, the people who get in your way, the people who take up so much of your time that you can’t read anymore. Rejoice in them. Sacrifice for them. Gain that which you cannot lose in them.

I suck at this. I'm grumbling in my head when I have to leave my seat at dinner for the fourth time while my food continues to get colder and colder to get something for one of my children. I want to cry when they wake me up at 6am. But the first step in changing something is becoming aware of it in your life. I love that God is bringing all this to the forefront of my mind. This journey is a long one. But we don't have to worry about the end. We just have to worry about the here and now and looking to Him in every moment of weakness. I'm so humbled that He calls me His child. I don't deserve an ounce of His love. But thank goodness it has nothing to do with deserving or not deserving it. He laid down His life for me. I want to show this selfless love to my kids. Its not hard to love them. But it is hard to love wiping the food I cooked off of the floor where my baby rejected it and spending an hour at night of "my" time putting them back in bed. I make sacrifices all day long for them. I pray that eventually I won't feel an ounce of drudgery or resentment in those sacrifices. I pray that one day I will feel joy in each of those sacrifices. And that God would take all of this and use it for His glory.

I mean, look at these faces. You'd think it wouldn't be so hard to wait on these munchkins hand and foot ;)

Side note: If you follow me on Instagram, you'll know that Dawson pretty much wears costumes everywhere these days (besides school or church. I'm not that cool of a mom.) He wore this Max suit last week on the hottest day we've had so far. He asked to sleep in it. Sure kid, whatever will speed up this bedtime routine. Well, the next morning around 9:30am, I'm giving him his eggs and notice that his hands are huge. They were swollen about twice their normal size because the elastic at the wrists was cutting off his circulation!! Seriously...I felt terrible. They didn't go back down to normal until late that night. The next time he wanted to wear it, I cut the elastic out. Sheesh. Who knew wearing costumes can be hazardous to your health?

**(I often hesitate to share spiritual things I've been learning on this blog because I don't always feel that the internet is the place for it. It can be misconstrued, taken the wrong way and frankly, in real life we don't just go around spouting off what God has done in our hearts without any sort of prompting from the person we're talking to. The things that are convicting to one person aren't going to be convicting for everyone. We use our common sense (and nudges from the Holy Spirit) to share what needs to be shared with people. But I have felt compelled to share this over the last couple weeks and I'm going to go with my heart. I'm sure there are a lot of other mommas out there that need this in this moment.)