Forgetful Grace

I was walking down the gravel road. I don't know what it is. Dirt helps my soul grip. Maybe because God made a reflection of His image from dust. I find comfort in what can become... In what He can do with dirt. Like getting this soul to untangle.

It's Migraines. They damage the soul. A lot of people don't know that. What is shirked by most as "a headache", is horrible nerve pain and darkness. It's constant fear of when you'll have to do it again. Pain that blinds your eyes to see. Keeps your mind from remembering. Remembering what God can do. What He HAS done. All the love... All the gifts... People don't realize the havoc it does to a family. How it makes a man's heart bleed, because he can't save his wife. How children cry, laying beside their mama, asking when God will heal? Baby girl pounding on closed door, aching to have her mama put her to bed. And there you lay. In the dark, mind and heart throbbing. Soul bleeding. Asking questions with no answers. Analyzing again what caused this one. Fighting to figure out how to make it all stop. The pain so shrill you can't stop the puking. The anger of man because he doesn't know how to help his woman. Children in tears, because they just want mommy back. Darkness. You just fight to survive the darkness. 

So I walk. Mind spinning so fast I can't get clear thought thru. I have just had 7 migraines in 11 days. 

Seven. 

Seven days making my soul leak. All hope pooling at my feet. I am raw from watching my agony make my family bleed. I am tired of asking questions with no answer. I am exhausted trying to figure out what causes "these ruts". I am tired of making sure I do all I can "right" to grapple for the assurance that maybe I have bought time till the next one. I don't want to be my own savior. I am not strong enough.

So. I start praying. Not clear thoughts, just this jumble pouring out. Cause it's all I have. These lost thoughts and raspy cry. 

I repented of fear, of not calling out sooner. I confessed worry and anger. I asked Him to please take this burden off my heart. It's just too heavy. 

He said I can trade. That He'll take my bloody one, and give me a load full of lighter. So I open hands, there in road's middle, giving up. Burden for burden. This trading. Mine for His. 

He told me to forget.

"Forget what lies behind". 

Permission to forget. A commanding to forget. I am always forgetful. But oddly enough, not when I need to be. I heard it. "Forget the last 11 days. They are done. Gone. Forget "the rut". Forget. Forget." 

The one thing good about the desperate, is that they are ready.

I am ready to forget. To let "survive" roll over and die. To look forward. To live!

So I straightened up. Took a deep, clean breath...And I let go. Of all the yesterday migraines. Of all the yesterday dark. All the yesterday hopelessness. 

Because analyzing the dark doesn't turn on any lights.

Only One is light. There's One Light that can't be shattered, snuffed out, covered, or swallowed up. Only THE ONE LIGHT that never leaves me alone. Alone to this darkness. To this suffocation. He won't stand for it! 

Because. I Am His.

Clouds part. Dark shatters before Him. It simply cannot stay in the presence of His love, compassion, kindness... This giving of Himself to His children. His coming like sunlight's warmth on skin. He always comes.

What is your darkness? What is it that haunts your days? The thing you drag into all your tomorrows... Physical pain? Relational let downs? A bad choice? 

You don't have to figure out this way to make the dark a home. Don't hang pictures and put out this attempt to accept ebony as normal air. Darkness is no companion. It can't be decorated into do-able. It just is. This reality of thick. This air toxic. But you don't have to let it prey upon your today. Your tomorrows....  There is a Light. There is ONE who will say, with fight in voice, 

" No! This one is My child. I will never leave them!"

 

God fights for you. Do you know that?

I went out to photograph His moon. She was full and high...the clouds her glorious companion. When you take that shot, and He shows up art...He is telling me a story. 

The love of the cross said "No" to darkness and seperation once and for all. And the Man, the Son of God who won you to light...He got off that cross. 

He overcame. Defeated death. He knew we needed to see the most final thing we could imagine... The most heavy thing.... The most impossible thing...DEFEATED! 

If my God defeated death...if death could not hold Him in the dark... My black is not to much for Him. My need for a miracle is not a ridiculous request. Oh! I needed to hear this again!! 

Your darkness does not have to stay. Oh friend... There is still a Savior. One who has already conquered the greatest enemy. 

 

So you too, are given the invitation. To forget.

" Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: FORGETTING WHAT LIES BEHIND and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." Phil. 3:13-14

Light waits for you. 

A burden trade. 

Yours for His. 

And His is this load of light. This load of so much love to taste. So much grace to know. A home to have. This one glorious Friend of heaven from whom you shall never be seperated. Not by darkness, pain, rejection, or fear. 

You have permission to forget about this darkness. Remember the light!

Open your hands and be of the receiving. Clenched fists only have darkness inside.

Forget. And look up.

We can carry promises into tomorrow. Sunlight on the skin of a new day. His glorious light. The only light that's warmth reaches soul.

 

" Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matt.6:34

You know what I love about that verse? It's telling us not to be anxious over what we can't touch. See we only ever have today. THIS day of moments. This day of trading burdens and feeling light that will spill over into more todays. Tomorrow is only in God's reach. 

Do you feel it like soft wind... Can you see it coming on horizon....

God has you sandwiched in by grace. All this grace. Forget yesterday... Don't worry about tomorrow. What's left? Now. All these now moments with a God who has conquered our past and holds our future. 

Now moments. 

There is so much to be had with Jesus now. Such stories of love He will spin. In sunsets and bird wing. Laughter of your children and smile of a stranger. Photos that show He still is Savior. That song that plays at just that moment. 

He orchestrates for you.

Like this glorious invitation to dance. Him writing this song that defeated your dark and fills your tomorrow with hope... Because you STILL have a Savior. And not even death held Him back from coming to you. 

Forgetfulness that opens the eyes to live. Trust that frees up tomorrow. A now that has love in it. 

All these glorious todays. Sandwiched by grace.

Open your hands. Oh friends, open your hands!

Coming home to the Mom I am.

Maybe I am. A black sheep. This woman who dares believe my Maker didn't make a mistake in my design. Let's face it. Christians can be stuck in this habit of believing we all have to look, indeed be the same. It's sad really. We miss a lot of God when we think this way. Yes. His commands and instructions are solid and apply to us one and the same all across the board... But this part of life that shows up in the living. The different bends people have. The things we say "are so them".... That part. The art of them. This glorious beauty of them. 

So why do we try to mold each other into the art we wanna see?

We think someone's colors need to be near our shades. That their clay needs to bend and mold like ours. But what we don't realize is that we only smear God's art when we live that way. Whether we give in to the pressures of others to be something not His intent, or we put those standards on ourselves. It's weight. And when we try "be it", we bend and contort all confusion and loss.

 

I have this slow coming smile...  See this week I realized I am not like other moms. No, that's not the great part. Most people could walk into my life and see that in a mere second. But it's because I had this thought while taking out our overflowing trash... " who says kids have to be in bed by 8?"  And just like that, God began revealing. Who is the "who" that decides what works for all families? What bed times work for all kids? What way to teach kids certain skills, principles even? Again. I am not talking about having a choice in passing on and enforcing God's mandates in the home. Hear me here. I am talking about the workings out in the daily living. This smile keeps coming to my face, as I am walking down the hall on a dirty floor. As I am folding my way down Mount Everest Laundry Range in my living room. A mountain, I assure you, has been there for over eight days. This smile. Because God says I am not a mistake. Because HE has a stride for me as a mama. And it probably will not match anyone else. 

I don't know about you. But I exhaust under pressure. From others or myself. I can't be a Monet. That's not my art. And if am meant to be an Ansel Adams...all this fighting to mold myself Monet will only cause tears...Those late nights, in bed, when I am wondering why I feel like I am failing. When I ache with this fear... That feeling of "not enough"  creeping in too close. Why do we want to be the painter if God says we are to take photographs? Why do we want to be a sculpter when God puts paint brush in hand. We are His masterpieces. We are Art.  We would do well to start respecting His design. In others. And in ourselves.

I have a dusty, dirty floor. Often. But I am not lazy. My laundry rarely gets done within a 48 hour time period. But my babies are always clothed clean. They don't go to bed at 7:30 or 8:00, but they know Jesus as lullaby. I shift chores and life around, my schedule is rubber... But it's my way to let people know they matter. That I have time for them. That God has time for them. My house may be a mess, but I will ask you in, and have a pot of coffee on in 2 minutes. My car. Blaaa. Always a muddle inside and out. But I tote my babies, and all the dirt they have fun in, around safely. Sometimes we have a way of doing things, and it may NOT be wrong. Maybe it's just God's way with US.   

He is personal.

 I pose this to you. Why wouldn't that be true in how our lives show up? Live out? Be witnessed? 

That maybe what we see as laziness in another's life, is God having a different rhythm in their living out.  Maybe her messy house is her being able to homeschool and make boxes for cancer patients in the children's ward. Maybe their unfinished kitchen and dining room is because they are wise with money... And will wait. But in the mean time have this incredible testimony as they continually ask people to come fellowship in all their imperfect. 

There is this. Sometimes God is working out different things in others lives. In our lives. So things may appear way off. When in fact, she is doing exactly what God wants her to do FIRST.  There is this. Maybe, just maybe the way she is, is gift to the "type" God calls her to minister too. Her house may be too clean for you, but organization is probably apart of her artistry. Messy cabinets may drive you insane, but maybe it leaves her time to align her heart toward what God is calling her too. To WHOM God is calling her too.  

If we would stop judging, we might see strokes. This brushing forth of grace...

If we would stop trying to conform others to our style, maybe we would see the sculpting of something truly incredible. Truly Him.

Because life matters. And Love is too precious to be colorless.

I have spent years trying to be this good mom. The in shape, organized, mother of respectful and put together children... And guess what? Yeah. I am pooped. Because it's not reality. And it's not me. God has a way of beauty...for ME...as a mama. I am daring to believe that if He is personal in His love to me, that THAT "personal" can show up in my very own mothering style, because of Him. What a gift that would be! To my babies. And to Him...for whatever testimony He desires.  I am canvas. Mother with children scattered messy grace about me. We are His artistry. 

I am the black sheep believing.

I am done being ashamed of my make. I am done feeling less because I am not the same. I am done striving to be what I have not been called. Join me? Stop trying to  be so clean if you are His messy grace. Stop trying to force a wild side if his artistry in you is clean lines.  He is breathtakingly creative! His art knows no bounds! Sculpting, painting, photography, mosaics, messy strokes, crisp lines... He is beauty. 

Let Him beauty in you.

I am not ranting liberal. I am not saying go bra-less and be brazen and call it godly. I am being true. I am talking about no longer trying to be someone you were NOT created to be. 

Live in a way that says, " I know I am not a mistake."

How often do we wish we were like "them", thinking we would feel better... Be more loved... Be a better wife... Mom...  

We will never walk straight in shoes not meant for us. 

Our toes will always curl. We will trip. We will hurt till we callous.  And coullouses always hide who we are.

He says I am fearfully and wonderfully made! Me. This spontaneous, loud, vivacious, people person with a tendency to be messy and forgetful. But there is beauty in all my baffle. Grace in the goo. (Even if it is in my microwave.). 

I just want to let go, and let Him glory in me. Cause that's what He has wanted from the beginning. Maybe people will see more Jesus and less me. 

And that would be grace indeed!

Psalm 139: 14 ~ " I will give thanks to thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Thy works, And my soul knows it very well."

Make it your prayer. It's mine. May my soul settle and know it well.

Be blessed. You are loved. Just as you were made.

 

What Keeps

They grab me. I have read this powerful pod of words many times. But never with this seeing. I am meant to catch it today. The time is ripe. My soul tears up...it's those words. 

"...which shall not be taken from her."

 

What do I fear? In this whirlwind of a life... In my place, my time here on spinning dirt... It's the taking.  I am afraid of what will be taken from me.

I have had three babies taken. I know they are home. I am blessed that God is their nursery. That He rocks them like I would. That He calls them by name. I hope He tells them, as I have asked, that their mama loves them and can't wait to hold them. 

Was it here? This waking up to what can be taken. I shook fist at heaven and screamed, "why do you want my babies!!! Stop taking them from me!" 

Heart languishes, questions leaking like falling blood. We don't always get the gift of reason. Sometimes it's not our privelege. Loss. The taking of what we love. If we aren't careful, this fear can become a religion.

What do you fear He will take? Skin crawls as I ask it, doesn't it...  We all carry this silent scream. This begging. "Please God, don't take this from me."

I fear my husband getting killed at work. Falling from a tree, or feeling the teeth of chainsaw... The taking of my beloved and best friend. Please God. Don't.

I fear God will take more of my babies. The ones I do get to hold. So I protect tighter. Stand longer at my lookout post. Hoping, always hoping, that He remembers He has bled me here already. Please Jesus. Not my babies. Let me have these two.

I fear not belonging. Not having a place. 

I fear being forgotten. Not worth the remembering.

I fear not being cared for. This haunting aloneness in pain.

I fear not having enough to offer. Not having anything worth giving. This not being enough to matter. To make a difference.

I am afraid of losing youth. I am afraid of what beauty I may have... leaving.

What will He take? What. Will. He. Take.

My home. My Kansas?

More of my health? What's left after the havoc and taunt of these migraines and curved spine?

My friends? Because they are so kindred and dear, my heart fears their goodness in my life will be fleeting. 

My place?

My love?

My safety?

My value?

My hope?

Because we are afraid the good will be taken. Always this taking.

We fear a lot. We silent this scream. This begging. "God, please. Don't."

We conjur up Him to be enemy. And before we know it, we have been duped into believing He really is. Why? Because He can take. And those who can take must be thieves right? This threat? But it's more than that. We forget. This world is fallen. This world hurts. We ache because we expect heaven down here. We get angry at God for a fallen world we chose. Us. Humans. We chose to try be God. And we have been at it ever since. So the world spins. All this human mess. Because everyone is fighting to KEEP something. 

A season. A love. A look. A friend. A home. Respect. Value. A family. An amount. A hobby. An identity. This fight to keep.

But what if we are sweating in vain. What if the One we fear will take, is the only one who keeps? What if the One we fear is enemy, is really the safest place we'll ever know? Consider.

All these ponderings. They surface now and again. Sometimes they become our motivation. We just don't recognize it. It's behind why we say "yes" to something when we are really quite exhausted. It's behind the analyzing in the mirror each morning. It's the reason we check our bank account for a third time. It's the heartbeat of working so hard to have the cleanest house... The well-known recipe... The knack at creative design... The defensiveness when someone comes too close to taking our place... 

Don't you want to breath? To open your hands and be done with the whole war? I do. 

Like I said. It was those words. Read again and again. But today, they glowed. 

" which shall NOT be taken from her."

He said it about her. Mary. This woman who chose Him. Remember? She sat at His feet. And chose Jesus. He was what she wanted. And because she chose Him, she picked up all wealth. All worth. She was given a place. Tasting a life, that would not be taken away.

 

In Jesus, my keep, is safe. 

In His friendship, I have access to all. All love, all kindness, all justice, all value, all hope, all protection, all personal notice, all belonging. It is His friendship, His love that changes things. And when we choose it, it will not be taken away. This whole wonderful reality of full. Fullness of life. The full we crave.

In Him "all things hold together". In Him then, nothing is ever lost.

I didn't lose my babies. They are safe. And I will see them again. When I open my hands to receive what He allows, even when I feel I am losing, it is then that I realize what I am being given. He always gives friend. Always. Sometimes we just don't see past the fear, the hurt, the control. But thru that wall, is a full beyond your understanding. Meaning, that you can become so lost in, even when questions are unanswered. Because you have Him. And we find, the questions don't matter near as much, in light of all this love.

He gives where we hurt. Sometimes we just miss it because we are so stubborn at the push for "our own way". Our own way to feel loved. Our own way to feel justified. Our own way to change this mess. We can miss His help. His arms still reaching out, spread wide. There is this other side in every situation. A side we often choose to miss, and then blame Him for not coming.

Get this.

He always comes.

I was blessed this morning. With this real. With this true so sweet, my soul got up to dance. When I sit at His feet, this life with Him, this love, this friendship...will NOT be taken from me. The thing that will  give me the greatest joy, the truest love, the most lasting hope, the greatest protection, the eyes that really see...THIS will not be taken from me. 

He will not be taken from me.

Read Luke 10: 38-42.  Read about what matters. About how perspective can change the way we live this life. We have this choice. To sit, eyes upturned to the Keeper. Or...to busy ourselves with this fighting to keep. To keep up ragged run in this war to not lose. 

When you get to that last verse, the end of 42... Read it aloud. Slow. This matters.

Today I am blessed that I know The Keeper. Today I choose this friendship. Because frankly, I'm tired. And my fears makes me feel "the take" Monster's breath too close. And that monster needs to be smacked. I know the One who can. I know A Friend who defeats my foes. " All my sins and griefs to bear. What a privelege to carry, everything to God on prayer."

Come sit. He wants to tell you a story.

* Psalm 121* 

Remember. These Are Gift.

My beautiful 3T. She is loud. She is full of life and gumption. But she is hard. She isn't like me, and so I am often at a loss on how to be what she needs. That's hard as a mom. That's hard to admit to myself. This beautiful girl and me...stuck sometimes. Just stuck. 

Then my mini man. 10 years and brave. Brave when his little sis antagonizes him and hurts his feelings. Three year olds can hurt too... These hearts bigger than theirs. His love for her is strong. Protective. It's beautiful to witness. But he gets so tired of her hollering. So he fights back with curt tones. With attempts to control her. This gift in a small package. She whom he prayed for, can be hard to get along with. He manipulates and she screams... And flesh flares and plays till we all feel green.

I wake up and hear this season we are in. The season of a three year old testing a new found will. The ten year old expecting a little sister to act seven year old.

The dog, all puppy, nipping the heels happy amidst it all. Sometimes we all need a muzzle. Just like the puppy. We nip. We annoy. We choose to worsen in the season instead of pulling back to really see. To remember. People we live with are a gift.

These are gift.

My head spins with the noise. I don't know how to teach thru the mess most days. How to teach a three year old to love. To be kind. How to help the 10 year old forgive and remember answered prayers. How to get that black ball of fur  to calm down! Where do I start to do right amidst it all needing my attention right now? This. As I homeschool and care for this house as home. What comes first in a tornado of competing importants? 

I go. To sit in a different perspective. I love coffee shops. I love the smell. The warm cup of vacation. The barista's making it, who have become friends. I like watching people. Finding God in them and smiling to myself. Sitting quiet with the word as companion... In that one chair in the corner. It's there that I was sighing. Trying hard to pull out of feeling this scream coming. Mommy desperation creeping in fast..... He was there. He is always there. My friend. My home. How He calmed was simple. Oh how He loves through perspective jolts.

" Behold, children are a gift of The Lord..." ~ psalm 127:3

And that was it. Those words I have heard a million times. The sad part about it though, is the million ways I forget. I need to see again. Let scales fall and look at my babies again. The sparkle in those eyes. The way they discover life around them. The way they learn. This poetic way they are quick to love. Always this beautiful, blind love. The way a child forgives. Especially when I am the one seeking it. The way my son looks out for his mama. Always making sure I am ok. Making sure I know I am beautiful, loved, cared about. That he is always there for me. Him making me necklaces from old DVD player parts... Thoughtfulness toward mama even when exploring on his own. And my girl. Wanting me to just sit and hold her. A joy that won't always be. Her fitting in my lap, head against my heartbeat. Her giggles as she holds my face while sharing Eskimo kisses. 

I am a mother truly blessed. Truly.

So that then. The remembering. These are gift. He is my gift. She is my gift. From my Abba and friend. God's perfect for me. His kindness to hold and witness all these crazy days.

So witness it. Mundane is only a curtain. Draw it back and see what is really I front of you. Gifts...if you will receive them. Always His endless displays of love. All these love droplets from an ocean of grace. 

God can overflow in the drudgery. The mundane becoming the miracle.

So here I am. This mama. This wife. This friend. This woman. I don't know how to do many things amazingly. But there is one I am determined to have God work out in me full. Just one thing I wanna do well. Tasks, work goals, expectations aside. 

I wanna love. I just wanna love well. 

Because love matters. A lot.

So. From my noisy home to yours. Be blessed. There are worse things than slowing down and letting Him show you what's what. Mainly. The sadness your left with if you miss them.

His love just might upstage my noise.

And the soul mellows and the eyes see...

Because I need to hear it too

We act our worst selves. We talk in tones that hurt. We let the exhaustion write the day's story. The problem is, flesh doesn't have an eraser on top of it. We can't just flip the wood and lead and change all we said. In our sighs and tones, words and looks. 

There's Disappointment.  

Disappointed in me days. 

Days that make me wanna run and hide. In coffee cupboards and coffee shops. Distractions. Whether chocolate or social. But running doesn't have an eraser either. No white out. No auto pilot while we choose chill. It's hard not to "run". Because I don't want to see it. Face it. Because I want to be beyond this. Habits of irritation and anger. Beyond the bite of drudgery. The nip of mundane. Beyond forgetting. About Him. 

See. There was this piece of wood. He was an eraser on top. Placed on. Nailed down. For days like these. For my ugliest tones of voice flung on my beautiful babies. For the anger toward my beloved husband. For my ungrateful heart refusing to see gifts in the mundane...the accidental...the imperfect.

 Sometimes I think of Jesus laying blood red and ripped for all the murderers, adulterers, whores, molesters, thieves, and evil hearted. But it's harder to see the little uglies putting Him there too. That He had to die because I yell. That He laid down and bled because I complain. That the crown of thorns was pressed in deep because I forget to ask Him for help. 

I want the control...

I glare irritated looks...

I choose to hurry and forget Him...

I ignore...

I whine...

I gossip...

I white lie...

I reject....

I refuse to say thank you...

I mock the way He made me...

I disrespect...

I withhold love...

 So He lays down. Taking the nails... Looks up to heaven and says, " This is for her. My Elizabeth. Now she will be clean. Covered. New."

"She is now uncondemed." 

How do I miss this?  This insane love. This giving back of my life.

It grieves me. Oh God... Make me among the remembering!

The grain of mean.

The spec of ungrateful

The moment of selfish

The thought of lust

The thread of self loath

The fleck of hate

How much is too little to be worth it? 

He says you are worth covering the minute for. You are worth this love. This love that covers all sins. Even the quiet, small, shy to show ones.

Jesus thinks you are just that important. His love is just that crazy. Laying down for the small sins... Because you just matter that much to His heart. He wants even the most hidden places to have this deep redemptive meaning. So rich. So full. So enough. Covered by this incredible love story.

Remember this romance. Don't blow by the pursuit in all His attention to detail. The details of your life. The details of your soul. My soul. This matters. Deeply. We can know Him here. In these places. His redemption so kind and enough.

But what about what others see? This haunting question... What do others think? Questions.

Do they think I have gained weight? 

Am I still beautiful?

Am I a good wife? 

Am I a good mama?

Am I kind enough?

Do they think I am less because I am not good at that?

How do I "appear" to others? Others.

Just this.  

" Others" don't have a say in your redemption. No one can make you condemned again. It is finished. Because Jesus has won you.

" My soul waits for The Lord... Hope in The Lord; for with The Lord there is lovingkindness, and WITH HIM is abundant redemption." Psalm 130:6-7 

" He will keep your soul." ~ Psalm 121: 7b

So on these hard days. When all the little sins, worries, and attitudes get you lost... Remember.  No little deal is too meaningless in light of such love. This incredible love that wants you to remember,  He covered this too. Even this. 

Grace so ready to meet you here. 

I need to hear this. Mundane, hard, drudgery days that depress need to hear this. So that we can rise.

I pull aside. Breath this in. Eyes open... 

I can live loved.