13.5 years. This us.

We were young. 21 and 22. 

This resort, these moments. You telling me you wanted to tell me a secret. So we walked the grounds as the Jazz played live. 

I had been coming here, coffee in hand, just to listen to jazz, for years. I watched couples in love, families on vacation, and waitresses serve smooth like the notes all about them. This place was romantic to me. Even before I "knew" you.

But that night... It was different. I did know you. As a friend, indeed as the only one I had ever loved. You took me to dinner here, not even knowing it was my favorite place. You, it seems, had a secret to tell. So we walked. And each place I suggested to sit, you would analyze a bit flustered. 

You.

 So young and entirely handsome, and ever weakening to my knees. This nervous, wonderful you!

Then that fountain. Way up high... In the raised walkways and gardens above. You were satisfied with it. And now I know why. Because now I know you so well. You love the secret of love. The beautiful,  just you and I, of love. And that place... It was above the bustle, tucked away, a safe space for our "us". 

I love the secret of us too. The holy space that only we may enter. The incredible of His love, in "us" exclusive. How I cherish this part of you years later... So this place you chose then, to ask me if I would... It was perfect.

You kneeled and I reeled. We laughed, and I said yes. Always yes.

                                ( Then )

                              ( Now )

The years we have shared have not been fairytale. They haven't been predictable. And they certainly haven't always been easy. We have walked hard roads. And how could we know then that the hard roads are the loom on which love's tapestry is made.

You and me. 

When three babies went home...

When jobs were lost...

When family troubles made us bleed...

When moves were made...

And expectations were crushed and hopes were lost...

When your young bride was demanding, self seeking, and lost...

When disagreements took our sleep in late night hours....

When you worked so many hours we felt exhausted and lonely...

When we looked scared into one another, and chose the counseling seats.

Love isn't easy.  It can't be. It is fought for, and won, again and again... Because love is more then diamond cut and size. More than how he proposed and what she wore. It's deeper than public affection, and weekend getaways. 

Love is a choice. It's being in love with loving, because Jesus loved us first.  Its giving that, and living that, even when you feel numb. Numb from trials done unto you. Numb from exhaustion, disappointment, and pain. Numb from it just being stinkin hard sometimes.

So being back at this resort tonight. 13.5 years later? Holding your hand as we walked to the place where you " told me your secret" with a ring... Sitting beside you there now... Like this... Smiling and joking about our youth...About how we have changed... Well, it's just been perfect. 

Perfect because we aren't. And we are ok with it. 

There has been this growing. This becoming ok with the other seeing us raw. Nakedness of soul and spirit. And in this place, choosing to be there for the other. Never entertaining the thought of quitting, and clinging to the power of promise. You and me. Being ok with showing our ugly, our deepest needs, and most shameful fears. And what we have found? 

1 Corinthians 13. That Gods love is the most romantic love. The most enduring and fulfilling love. The strength to stay in love and be love to each other.

Not the video store, movie screen, scripted love. But rather the kind that goes so deep it aches within the whole of you. An echo of His eternal promise. The slow blooming of Gods reward for the staying.

 

                           ( Then )

                               ( Now )

 

In the hard things, the scary times... It can be hard to see. But each time we have pushed through together...coming out onto the other side of the thing... He has been there. Giving us the deeper, fuller, more passionate. 

No couple can make love without Jesus Christ. That's the real raw of it. 

And how we have been learning the true of this the last 13.5 years. And would we want it any other way? I can see the answer in your every smile, kiss, and held hand.

Marital love is best when both realize they can't without Jesus. Us coming to the knowing that we are simply not enough. That bedroom passion ends if it doesn't have a reason beyond hormones and expensive jeans. That soft smiles, side winks, couch cuddles, and testimonies are born from the deep working out of Jesus Christ personal inside our selves and then given away.

                            ( Then )

                              ( Now ) 

So this looking back and looking in? It has been like warmth to me. Because baby, we are doing it. We have known the true of needing help, and the savoring Grace of His always coming. Day in and day out. In sheer happiness, and through tormenting hard. God is good. And we are "us" because He is.

I, my sweet lover, have loved each moment of you. Each season of learning, and messy grappling forward. I wouldn't trade a day. I wouldn't change a moment... Because saying yes to you has let me know what indescribable love is. With a personal God, and with you...my dearest friend. It has shown me what deep gifts are buried in the hard things. How art takes time, thought, and a settled spirit.

                       

                     ( The beginning )

Love is a journey. It comes softly and quietly each time you lay down your life in the mundane everydays. It's in the endless rubbing away my migraines, and notes in lunches made at midnight. It's in grieving the loss of our children, and in crying because we don't know how we are gonna make it out of the hard. It's in dirty dishes and cleaning carpets. Support given in the 60 hour work weeks, and going crazy mom days. It's in the courage I find when I hold your hand. In making romance when we can't find a sitter...again. Lol.  It's in the determination. 

Love is the greatest. His word tells us that. And marriage gives us a chance to know it. Thank you for giving me this gift Love. For letting me know God like this, and you like this. It has been the greatest joy of my life.

Marriage is my favorite art to witness. God makes such incredible tapestry's of testimony. And I love to hear His stories. It's encouragement to keep up the good fight. To push through and KNOW that Jesus will come and save the day. All of us in this privelege tell His story. This way He loves us, the church. Each time we forgive, love anyway, or lay down what we want. 

If your a bride or groom 1, 13.5, or 50 years in.... Stay. It's worth it. 

I for one, would love to hear your story. 

Boy Size Grace

I hated to be forced when I was a child. Forced into a fear, looking for its cure. My dad thought this would work. So I was made to attempt this backwards stab at overcoming, and often. 

Roller Coasters? 

Hate them. But had to go on a few to push through fear... 

And those "Lap" pool drains...the ones waaaay down there? 

I had to swim down and touch it three times...

It's not that my dad was mean, he wasn't. He was my buddy growing up... It's just that he struggles with fear too. And no one taught him how to beat it. So he did the best with me he could. Isn't this true of all us parents? 

The thing is, it didn't get me over fear. It built habits of anger, guilt, distrust, and shame in me. Especially when I came out on the other side of these attempts...you guessed it...still afraid! 

It took me years to realize I wasn't afraid of dying on a roller coaster. Nope. Never crossed my mind. I just hate that falling feeling! And that whole realm of thrill seeking rides, is so not what I call fun. What showed up as fear,  was actually just a personality bend buried a bit deeper. Pool drains made me panic with my long hair, because I had heard that story once. And that girl didn't make it. So why would I risk the tangle? But sometimes as a kid, you can't discern all the whys yet. And being forced to cuddle up to a fear, doesn't heal you at all. It just makes you feel ashamed and confused even more. So why this story now?

My son. He is just like his mama. And I love that about him. Not because I am great, but because I can relate. And experience is an incredible tool.

He had the last minute camp opportunity with our church this week. Strings of grace were pulled to get him in past the deadline. He was nervous. So nervous. See most of my little man's friends, are girls. Most of the cousins he spends time with, are girls. We have not planned this, it's just what our friends seem to be birthing! Lol. All that to say... He doesn't have many sleepovers. And he rarely is away from home at night...period. So the fact that he said yes to a five day camp?! Fabulous!

He called me a mess the first night. The dorm rooms were hot, kids were snoring, and his mind wouldn't turn off. He felt so alone and afraid. I talked him thru... And he gave it a shot, finally falling asleep at 1 Am. But by the next day he had the fear flu. The kind that anchors into your emotions so real, you can't figure out what is an accurate compass or not. He tried loving on the kids who seemed shy, playing with the friends he had made so far, and trying to think desperately of anything but bedtime again that night! Poor kid. I felt like I was 11 again. As if i was right there and could feel the horrible turmoil.

I had been thinking about what might happen since the call at midnight the night prior. I knew his tender heart mattered, no matter what my adult logic says. I knew my dads method with me didn't work at all. I also knew that Jesus had a lesson here. A personal one for my son. So I asked for wisdom and help. I am glad I did. Because when that call came the next day, I knew peacefully what to do.

Pick him up and let him come home.

Now at this point in my post, many parents are thinking, "what? She bailed him out?" I know. Weird right? I can read your mind. Lol. But here's the thing, not all kids thrive by being pushed. And if you have a tender hearted "Relater" in your home, you may be following me here. Some kids need to know they are loved when they "just can't". They need to know that they have a place even when they fail. That shame isn't what they have to carry when they give their best but still don't end up "on top". 

What was important to me as a mama, was that my boy realized he had a safeplace in his parents, when in his mind, he missed the mark. This is huge. Because life is hard. And there are so many ways to fall. And when those times come to my son...or when he makes that bad choice... I want him to see, that if mom and dad can be trusted with his fail, so can Jesus. That there really is an  unconditional love that stays. Even when we have to bail out early. Miss the mark. Or flat out go splat!

So, as i let God wander thru my thought process, I knew! This would call out my son's courage, and deny his shame. Because telling my sweet boy I was proud of him trying this...That he conquered a little bit more of a hurdle in his heart... That he chose bravery, even if for one night out of four... This would call out what really mattered, and put down what didn't. And in doing this, he would remember the hope he was given and feel a bit braver the next time around. Because knowing you have a place to fall safely, can make you sprout wings. It puts another little root in the ground of a growing Oak tree. 

Love does that. It is listed by God Himself as the greatest. It endures, and comes back bearing the impossible things. Things like Bravery. Compassion. Gumption. Gratitude. Respect. Understanding. And a strong Discerning heart. These are traits i cannot put into my kids, but i can call them out. If I slow enough to let God untangle my habits and my agenda. God gives me these moments. This week? Yeah. I am so thankful I saw this.

Popular parenting doesn't cast out fear, love does. 

Jesus said so. He didn't say it would happen by pushing an expectation on my son,  making him into the image "man" I saw in my head. He said love does the irradicating! Amazing isn't it? What seems in a moment to some, as raising a sissy, can contain  within it, the upside down kingdom of God! Man I love this. It is hope to my Mama heart this week.

I am no expert. I never will be. I have no secret method, or high opinion implied here. It's just that...well...

I had it wrong, for a long time. Because I worry too much about what people think. Leaning  into other people's opinions on what I should do with my son...before I even consider asking God what He desires. I worry about not being a good mom like described in that christian book. And I certainly ponder way too often what both sets of our parents are thinking! But guess what? My sons soul is worth more than that. And if I want to give him Jesus and all the strength and manliness the gospel truth holds... I have to let go of a prototype, and constantly ask Jesus for wisdom.

No child is the same. They have different environments, parents, and challenges. For instance...My son has so much courage it humbles me. What he has faced with his parents, frankly, has been unfair. But this is not the kind of courage a camp counselor in West Central Kansas will see... Not if they weigh him against a prototype. This boy has faith I am convinced could move mountains. And it has been this faith that has kept his mama fighting the good fight on my dark health days. He has the tenderness needed to see the least of these... A strong tenderness that chooses the disabled or lonely as a companion on playgrounds. I could go on. As you could, I am sure, about your sweet ones. :)  My point is simply this. Strength and bravery don't always look like the kid who stays at camp five days without any fear. Sometimes it looks like the kid who tried. 

My son. Your son. The son of Mr. Whomever down the block... They are amazingly different. Their weaknesses to challenge won't be the same. So their overcomes will look different. And as parents, we need to stay away from pressing them into the cookie cutter of what would "impress" and "success" as they grow up. Instead would should seek out the help of their Designer.  Their color hues are not a mistake, and each canvas has its own message. God intends our children for something. And if we want to lead them into thriving within this design, we need help. Desperately. 

 

We need divine intervention! Ha!

I don't want to force my son to beat fear, by making him miserably stumble through it to please his parents. I want to incourage my son to challenge himself to trust in Gods endless love and leading. And in this instance, his parents' mercy and arms of grace told him that story. A mom who drove that hour to pick him up, opened that car door with a smile, and let him know just how proud I was of his try.  

 

We will need to let Jesus settle our hearts over and over if we are to remember what really matters. To have Him make clear to us how to teach and call out in our kiddos what He intends for them. Sometimes down to the moment. The other option is more bleak. Raising kids to be what society calls strong, attractive, out going, liked, popular, powerful, and valuable...can just lead us to raise a  bunch of confused adults with no anchor.  And frankly, I want to give my kids more than that. God help me. 

I want to be an asset to what God's building in my son. I want to have a front row seat to the beauty of Jesus' personal plan in my children's lives! This will require the constant acknowledgement that I cannot raise these children alone. I pray I am wise enough to know I am endlessly limited, and hopelessly in need of daily grace. And only with my Saviors discernment will I raise two strong, kind, and gracious people who love the Lord. 

So. If you are feeling lost as a parent lately... Worried your not "hacking it"... 

It's ok. 

You were never meant to raise them alone. 

Breath. :) That's what I am learning to do.  My bravery will fail, but God won't. That's my gift today...And man am I thankful.

 

My Him.

These days I ache for him. And it's a gift. Because when stress has pushed us to our end, and all we can do it let our hands fall... There is still us. 

And I love us.

My Nathan is the most enduring man I have known. He has such quiet bravery, and enduring gumption. He finds joy in being unseen, and loves to make sure his family isn't.  And when life takes too much from us...when he crumples hurting...He rises higher still in my woman heart. A man that can be a mess with his woman, becomes the hero in her heart. 

It takes a strong man, great strength to be weak.

My Nathan. His name literally means, "Gift."  Yes. Absolutely yes! And he is, in so many, many ways. 

Wives. I think a lot of times we are stupid. We want our husbands to build our dreams. Make our wish touchable. And they will bloody themselves trying. Some of this is by design, but often it's turned into a vortex because our "selfish" picks up on its possibilities.  One word and we can make them start spinning world's to put that smile on our face. 

We abuse them. 

I have learned so much already... Perhaps I have mentioned before, our Kansas is taking our home and land under imminent domain... I have been faced with what really matters. And ladies, it's not walls. It's not decor like trend. It's not wine poured for guests in a chic fashion... 

It's our home.

 Not the house...but our home. 

Is it walls, or is it him?

A woman has a make to love a house. To turn it into a home. This is a God design, and not to be taken lightly. But it's easy as time passes to let things slip out of order. And when hardships come, and they will, your walls start to shake. Pictures go crooked, and corners crack. We have to ask ourselves what we are hostesses of. 

Nathan got me my dream. I have wanted a house in the country since I was 9 years old. I still have those "child like faith" architecture plans for my horse ranch. I happened upon them a few weeks past. There was to be a hot tub in my living room, next to the kitchen with the western, swinging, saloon doors. Lol. 

 I got here. No hot tub in the living room... Thank goodness! But he built me a swinging door out of beautiful barnwood. See, he saw a dream in my eyes, and he worked it like no other. Hard at his 40, and more in his own business, then some on the side. No one on earth works harder than my Nafe. I am convinced of it. 

So this house came. I remember walking out back. Across the yard. Into the fenced in land...the place I would put our horses someday. I picked up dirt, breaking it with my fingers. I walked for a long time... I took deep breaths and saw how I could see the earth touch the sky. This?! This was where I was gonna live? Well 9yr. old dreamer, what ya think? I was in awe. Nathan gave me this. 

He toiled hard for this.

It's beautiful.

He built me that round pen. He had no idea how at the start. But he figured it out. For me. And you know what? It's perfect. Completely perfect.

He shoveled rock for hours after work. For the natural landscaping I wanted all the way around our home. I won't forget how we fought that one day. Can't even rememeber what it was about. Senseless in the scheme of what matters I am sure... He had to blow steam. When I went to look for him, he was out in downpouring rain, shoveling that rock into wheel barrel. He did that for hours. I watched water pound his back and roll off his dark hair into his eyes. He just kept working. Even when he was mad at his woman, he worked to build for me. It's a precious memory to my humbled, foolish heart.

My husband isn't a saint. Neither am I. We have hurt each other, and taken the other for granted. We have missed the mark and fallen into counseling like other wise couples before us. But even in all the hard times, he never stopped fighting to build my dreams. To lift my heart, and joy my eyes. 

But guess what. The state I love, is gonna put a bulldozer on my property. They aren't gonna think about my round pen, my landscaping, the baby girl I brought home here, or the family we are raising.... These bricks are gonna lose mortar. They are going to fall. The bedrooms of my babies will be gone. And the place our bed sets will be no more.

These dreams I had, they are going to go back to dirt. My favorite trees will be pushed into a burn pile. An off ramp will carry cars over where our family played in sprinklers and green grass. I won't lie. When Nathan came home and told me about the phone call, it took my breath. I was angry. Hurt. Confused. My dreams were for my kids to have this open space. The hope of endless possibilities where earth meets sky. I wanted horses for family rides at sundown, and for  the hope and help of disabled kids. I wanted my home to be a safe place for the unknown soldier, and the needy heart. I wanted it to be a piece of Gods heart given away to each visitor turned friend. So what do you do when your dreams, and what you thought God Himself wanted, get bulldozed? You look hard questions in the face. You feel God push you into them until scales fall from blind eyes.

When this all started happening, Nafe said something that cut me to the quick. He said, " baby, I just want to know that you won't be disappointed. That you will follow me wherever I go, because I am your home." 

My home. My home....

I struggled ladies. Hard. Mostly with disappointment, because I really thought Nathan always had been my home. In many ways He was, but not solely. Not when my dreams turned up rubble. For the first few months I pushed how we had to find another house in the country... How we could build...How we could.... Could... 

Then I started to see it. This bend in me. This determination to have a home with four walls, in a location I believed I needed, to love out in the way God has set me ablaze to. This habit of allowing my beloved to turn himself inside out for my happiness. My happiness? He is so beautiful. Perfectly flawed and inspirationally giving. 

But my vortex?

My love for my husband is deep, and it's genuine. But there are these times in marriage when Jesus pulls back the levels of us... The deep, unseen, hidden of us. And when He does, at least with me, I gasp. This? This is me? And I am humbled by my ugly. By habits I built out of small things slowly. 

It's taken me months of hard. Things unraveling with the house, and our plans. Time kept passing... Then there were other things... Health... Relationships changing... Life just being this world we broke back in Eden. There have been these Eden days. The pressure cooker of His holy, breaking me.

My husband is tired. His body is worn out. His soul has lost a lot these past years. For more reasons then just this... He has fought hard and given his absolute all. And now? 

Now I see. 

There was the day Jesus said it to me quietly. That this house being bought and dozed by the state was for Nathan. That it was time God told His heart a love story... in his language. That in doing this He would need my quiet tongue and sacrificing heart. God asked for my "let go". He asked me to lay down my life. In the daily movement of things. To lay down where I cook for my family, where I tickle my babies, and plant my flowers. He asked me for my idea of what home was. Of what a hostess of the Lord was... And it hit me. If I have to choose between four walls to call home in the country, or my husband's soul.... My husband's soul wins. So I gave the Lord my yes. I opened the fists of a nine year old dreamer, and I let go. I will watch these walls leave. My round pen of plans be taken down. My landscaping be turned over. I will for my husband. Because I want to hear the story God is going to tell him. And I want to be apart of it. 

I want to be apart of its beauty.

Home. Yeah. 

I am there. We have pulled close. This processing outloud and side by side quiet. The looking into hurting eyes and just holding. Speaking hope when the other down, and crying together when neither is up. This is love. This is life in the real way. The laying down all of it for the other way. I am not good at it, but I am determined. Because my Nathan is my four walls. This man is my home. Truly! Oh so sweetly, yes! And I cannot begin to poet out the way my soul is changing. The way our love is yet again renewing. The miracle of the staying marriages...this constant more love coming for those who just won't leave the other. 

I have told him. I can't help retelling him often. 

"Baby, you are my home. I will go wherever you go, and will live wherever you are."

And him? He is breathing different now. Hope moves between us. And we feel there is an adventure coming. A new that will unite us yet even more. 

Ladies... A man finds strength when his woman will find him the home on the journey. 

And I find the more the Lord inches me closer to this house being torn down, the more my soul is releasing. From these four walls and into the building of Nathan's heart. I find myself almost lost in my husband. Gloriously lost. Because you know what? I love us. 

 We all have these spots. And if I have learned anything this year, it's that it's ok for me to be a mess with Jesus. It's the only way I "become" before Him. It's the only way flowers rise up out of burned places. It's the way of real love and lasting promises.

My hopes for a house and it's welcome, are safe in the hands of Jesus. And I know now, that I am called to be His hostess everywhere I go, in a million small moments. And one day, I am sure He will settle me down again... But I know He wants to build a home in Nathan and I first. Because if we are not at home with Him and one another first... We mine as well not have a house at all. Welcome signs come from the heart of the person, not from the structure they sit in. And I want that. Oh how I want to be that.

Marriage is this beautiful place to me. I get to be apart of a story...of how Jesus loves, forgives, builds, and promises. What a joy it is to be here learning. 

I am a wife of nearly 13 years, and I just wanted to show you my home. Welcome!

Nerdy Birder

I am you know. A nerdy birder. And I am so cool with that. Lol 

 

  

  ( My Mom dared me to pose and put on blog. Lol. Here you go mom!)

Why birds? Because they represent God's Constance to me. No matter where I go, I can always find birds...hear birds. And each day when I open my eyes they are right there... On my porch feeders...in my Maple trees... Or singing on my barbwire fence. They do what Romans says nature does, they reveal Gods attributes to my human soul. 

             Mourning Dove Fledgling

             Juvenile Eastern Kingbird

A few of my favs?

American Robins. They sing while it is still dark. What a trait! Would love this to become a habit of mine!

Eastern Bluebird. They are the sky's perfect blue on top, with bellies brown like earth. This mix of two worlds beautifully colliding.

Sparrows. Because even birders overlook them as commonplace. But Jesus doesn't. His word says He knows when even one falls. And if God is so aware and caring about a common bird, He is aware of common me.

Cardinals. Because the male feeds the female seeds as he courts her. And well... I just love being married to my man. :) Couple birds endear me!

Hummingbirds. They have this attention and adoration for the smallest flower. How they use their wing speed faster then a racing heart, to SLOW DOWN and savor life. 

Brown Thrasher. Oh! He sings over 1,100 different songs.... Not once, but twice. As if maybe we all need reminding. This beauty sung twice for the forgetful...me!

Song Sparrows. Because they have a brown spot, somewhat shaped like a messy heart on their chest. Always singing sweet it's song.

Painted Bunting. Wow! God took out His colors and amazed! Seriously, are you still reading this? Go google one! I am telling you! :)

Nuthatches. Because walking down the side of a tree when you could just fly... That's just wonderful! Perfectly caught up in the stroll.

Baltimore Oriols. Because the first time I saw this bright orange fly across my yard here? I thought it was a joke! Do birds this bright exist for real? And they come visit me over a cup of grape jelly. Lovely.

Western Kingbirds. Because they chatter like the happiest of girlfriends. I imagine them with coffee cups on a tree branch, lost in the joy of kindred.

I could go on and on. God has captured my attention with birds. He has comforted me with their company, song, and diversity. 

                         Killdeer.

                   Male Cardinal.

The Western Meadowlark is my Kansas girl.  She perches on fences, old crop stalks, high power lines... And she sings. Loud and glorious. And just this week I was comforted by the crazy of her melody. I can be going 60mph, have windows rolled up, and kids bantering... That song gets through! And this week, I felt it's hope. And it turned into a prayer. Because we can't always slow the car of hardship down. We can't choose where it takes us sometimes in this life. We have to trust God with its speed and destination. But how kind that He makes sure the song gets through! I pass her in seconds. It's enough! Those notes crawl into cracks and find my heart. And somehow I am uplifted. Because God sees to it that the song finds me. 

Or the storms here in kansas. Epic. Incredibly Jesus. Indescribably lovely. But wow can they be strong. Clouds billow black with shades of green. Wind carving them all anvil. Rain falling hard and sideways. Trees bending submissive to power. I love it!! And with each clap of thunder I smile. Because the scriptures say thunder is God making His presence known. So there I stand by the window. Answering back giddy... "Hi Lord!" :). This last one we had I sat at my favorite chair kinda mesmerized by a thought. Yup. Those birds again. How much grip and gumption do they have to have to hold on when trees are bending low and wild, and heaven's bathtub has tipped full over? And yet we don't see birds getting jerked from the sky. And when the storm passes they are the first out, and the first singing. Jesus sees to them in every storm. He makes sure they get through, indeed that their songs are sung again. This beautiful stark after unleashed power. If He cares for birds during nature fury? Yup. Then He will for me, no matter how much I feel I am going to get ripped from this branch. He will tend to my song.

Birds. They tell these beautiful stories!

Yes. I could so go on for a long...long...time. This is good for you cat people. And Dog groupies. Because to appreciate bird wing, you have to become apart of the silence. And I have found when I do that, God speaks and hearts lift.

Things in this fast life, that call for us to slow, should get our attention. We are too distracted...we are to fast these days... We have music, news, facts, faces, and the legal espionage ( Facebook.  Yeah, I said it. You know it's true.) And I have learned that this can become the tree of knowledge in the mere moment. It's a thin line. We search and we fill. With facts that cause fear, with faces that leave jealousy. With options that leave lust and want.  Maybe the birds really know something we forget too quick. Our God is the sweetest when known in simple. The pause. The yes to stopping and looking up. 

He is in that garden stroll...not in our lust for  eating that apple of knowledge.

I use the Internet. And I often go too fast in my routine. But I am contemplating how life would change if I would ponder God more. If I would think on who He really is, to wonder at all He can do. How would my soul fill and my vain empty... I want to be a woman of wonder. A woman who finds bounty joy in the simplicity of God here. I am an attribute hunter! He says creation reveals His character to us. So much so that none have an excuse to not know Him. 

So the birds? Yeah. They are my flagship to remember. Jesus is always loving and always waiting. This sweet constant. And if I will open my clenched fists, and take a deep breath, my stomach will begin to un-knot. 

 

Feathers flying and skies unfolding, this is the story of promises.

Blogger for GFA!

Hey Readers...

 

I don't know how many readers I have. But I want to thank those that take the time. If you would care to pass on the word about my blog, I would be blessed. Because not only are my writings a personal moment with Jesus I share with you, but I have decided to blog for Gospel For Asia. I am blessed to be apart of their blogging team! 

This is a ministry that is raw and genuine through and through. My husband and I have been blessed to watch how they use donations and funding...so pure for the spead of the gospel.  Admirable! They share  the hope of my Jesus, through personal contact and ministry, pastoral and ministry training, mission schooling, trained field teams, and prayer. I deeply encourage you to look up and ponder their ministry. I am blessed to put my pen to this passion, in the hope I can be apart of Asia's voice and need for Hope.

 To learn more, please visit: 

  http://gfa.org/

As I write I encourage you to watch videos and read referenced material... in the hope you too will become apart of spreading the gospel to the hurting. Whether you do this through prayer or financial support. And in my asking that you share my blog with others...my hope is to spread the word on Asia's need as a whole, and my deep personal prayer for the protection and redemption of India's girls.

Thanks for reading, whoever you are. Be blessed, you too are prayed for.

Truly,

Liz