Giving It All Away

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does 
not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking,
it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not
delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, 
always trusts, always hopes, always preserves. 
I Corinthians 13:4-7

The past year has brought much reflection on what "love" is. And I've come to some pretty solid conclusions:

We all want desperately need to be loved.
Oh, and also - I'm incapable of loving precisely how Christ loved. (But shhh...I'm trying to keep that on the down-low. People might find out.)

Every human I know is walking around deficient in this I Corinthians 13 kind of love. Likewise, every human I know is incapable of giving out this kind of love in full capacity. We all experience love, yet we all still feel the lack. And the harsh reality is: When it comes to love and relationships, we all have unmet expectations. Each of us know the disappointment. Which, I suspect, is where all of our heart's hurts come from...imperfect love.

My whole life I've carried with me an inner, deep hurt brought about from this deficiency. My earliest relationships are those of dysfunction, loss and rejection. I've found various remedies through the years mask the pain from those deep hurts - some good, some not so good - but the hurt always seems to find its way to the surface. The shifting of life's seasons lately has uncovered my weakness in this area - forcing me to reckon what I know to be true with how my feelings betray me. In the process of allowing myself to face some hard things, I've discovered one incredible, simple solution: Giving to others what I desire for myself is medicine to my soul. It is a spiritual, supernatural, healing process. I've become so good at self-protection that to give away what I long for has been contradictory to me.  It's almost holy when I do, though, for it is God at work in and through me. It truly is not of me. And yet...there's still part of me that I know is always holding back. Self-protection instincts are incredibly strong. Sometimes involuntary. 
Recently I've had to do hard things. I've had to face several of my hurts head-on. I didn't ask to - God presented it to me and then comforted my soul with reminding me that I was created for hard things. Restoration with those whom have wounded you deeply (even if they're unaware of it) is hard. Granting forgiveness without being asked for it is no easy task. That's heart-deep business. (Anyone can fake it, but authentic forgiveness looks quite differently than simple obedience.) And I won't sugar coat it - I wrestled with God over and over again about it. Vulnerability often feels like weakness. (I'm not fond of that feeling.) Yet His reply is always the same:

If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it.
But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it. 
Matthew 16:25

I have hung on to this false hope, this unmet expectation of not being hurt for so long that I fear there's a part of my life I have lost in the process. I'm certain there are relationships I've damaged because of it. My relationships aren't as full as they could be because of it. But as I give up this aspect of my life; as I allow myself to be more vulnerable for the sake of becoming more like Christ, I'm discovering redemption. 
The culture we live in advocates for self. It's embedded deep within our DNA to put ourselves first. It's the reason why mankind has fallen, countries have crumbled and societies struggle. It's why social media has been a raging "success". We are all hanging on tight to our lives. Living them for ourselves. Displaying them proudly like trophies for the world to see. We are self-absorbed creatures. Every thought we think and action we have is linked to directly to how it will affect "me". I know this to be true even within the deepest parts of my own heart. 
Yet, this is the very reason Christ came. 

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may 
have life and have it to the full.
John 10:10

When Jesus came to this earth, he lived radically different. He lived outside the space of time, logic and human reasoning. He wasn't a product of his culture, He was a product of his Father...something entirely different. Otherworldly. He lived contrary to this world's standards...he lived by Kingdom standards. He showed us that we can have life "to the full". Abundant. And we didn't have to wait until heaven - we could possess it now.
And the world listened to His words, watched his works and marveled.

Whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn to him the other also. 
And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, let him have your coat also.
If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two.
Give to those who ask, and don't turn away from those who want to borrow.
You have heard the law that says, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy'.
But I say, love your enemies, bless those that curse you, do good
to them that hate you, and pray for them that spitefully use and persecute you.
In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. 
For HE makes His sun rise on evil and good, and HE sends
rain on the righteous and unrighteous. 
Matthew 5:39-45

Choosing to give all of myself away and letting God determine the outcome? Radical. By giving away, I gain. My brain struggles to comprehend this. Even within our Christian cultures this kind of living is radical. Self-preservation is subtly deemed acceptable. But when I look at the life of Christ...when I read His many, many words of what He has actually called us to...I can't escape they underlying message: Give it all away. I read those verses over and over, again and again and this radical way of thinking gets me to wondering...What if? 
What if everything we have, we were meant to give away? Our time, our talents, our resources, our love. (Are they really even ours, anyway?) What if we gained far more than what we lost? Do we trust Him to be faithful and true? Do we really trust? Or are we so self-reliant that we hold back just a little, just in case our lingering suspicion that He can't really be trusted is correct? 

Taste and see that the Lord is good;
blessed is the man who trusts in Him! 
Fear the Lord, you his holy people, for those
who fear him lack nothing. 
Psalm 34:8,9

Once you taste the goodness of God, any goodness you seek of any other human pales in comparison. In fact, in Him I am complete. Lacking nothing. Therefore, if I have Him - I have everything. I need not man's approval, acceptance or love. (I only perceive that I do.) Therein is abundant, full life. So....what have I got to lose? 

I can give it all away.  The most important part of me, I can never lose. It's radical.  

By The Hand

"I, Yahweh, have called You for a righteous purpose, 
and I will hold You by Your hand."
Isaiah 42:6

Recently, while walking along the streets of some local thrift shops (one of our favorite things to do these days), I instinctively reached out for the swinging hand of my boy walking alongside me. (Mind you, these boys of ours are rapidly approaching the title of "man-child". At twelve years old and a stature that will soon catch up to their Mama's...."boy" almost seems an inaccurate description. But. To me, a "boy" they will always affectionately be.) When he welcomed my hand in his, the reality of his age and pubescent season in life occurred to me. I almost pulled away, but thought better of it and inquired: "You're not embarrassed to hold your Mama's hand in public?!" To which his prompt reply was, "Why would I be? You're my mom!" No shame. No awkwardness. Unconcerned about what onlookers think or perceive. Pure and untainted by the world. I'm aware that the world (and the enemy therein) will have plenty of opportunities in the future to root its distorted perceptions in the hearts of my boys, but for now - I will cherish the beauty of such innocency. His tender heart welcomes the love, affection and care from his Mama and rests in the knowledge of that truth. 

The "God the Father" and "Jesus the Son" relationship as depicted in the Bible is one in which I struggle to fully grasp. But when I read through Isaiah and ponder his prophetic revealing of the Savoir that was to come, I'm left undone by the tenderness in which the God of the universe speaks to and about His Son. My human mind cannot comprehend what it was like to be Jesus. Fully God and yet also man. Flesh AND Spirit. And yet fully God. (Mind blown.) God knew the obstacles He would face: the physical, mental and emotional anguish He would have to endure. And so, He gently reminds Him of who He is, what He's called to do and how He will sustain Him through it. I will hold you by Your hand. Tenderness leading. Uninhibited trust. 

The past several years I've found myself stumbling my way through. God has intensely penetrated my heart in such deep ways that I've fallen short at finding the right words to precisely describe both the challenges as well as the joys. It's difficult to articulate how a peaceful, calm joy and a deep, heart-wrenching sorrow can co-exist...but that is the reality or perhaps the dichotomy of this life. Mountains and valleys. This visual illustration of God, taking my hand in His; leading and comforting me like a child, depicts perfectly what life has presently been like. I toddle around, working my way through various obstacles, difficult decisions and pretty big emotions. Sometimes I hold tight to the sure hand that wants to lead me though, and other times I find myself walking ahead, seeing only the mountain that's in my view and not realizing until I look back that I've unknowingly let go of His grip. But when I refocus on the source of all comfort, the mountain slowly fades into the background as I grasp the outstretched hand that was patiently waiting for me.  And He gently reminds me of who I am, what He's called me to do and reminds me that He will sustain me through it. "I will hold you by Your hand." And, like a child, I choose yet again to trust. 

Wrestlings

 Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak.
When the man saw that He could not defeat him, He struck Jacob's 
socket as they wrested and dislocated his hip.
Then He said to Jacob, "Let me go, for it is daybreak."
But Jacob said, "I will not let You go unless You bless me." 
"What is your name?" the man asked.
"Jacob," he replied. 
"Your name will no longer be Jacob. It will be 'Israel' because you you have
struggled with God and with men and have prevailed."
And He blessed him there.
Genesis 32:24-29

Jacob was a determined man. Reading through this event as well as other events as detailed in the Bible, I'm given the impression that he was accustomed to wrestling. Mental, physical and spiritual wrestling - both by his own (un)doing as well as by the hands of others, was part of his life's story. But this particular point in his life has been on my mind lately. 
In the past few years I've had my own sleepless nights. Dark evenings where the silence is incredibly heavy and yet my soul is screaming out at the stars...begging, even demanding from God a blessing. A sign. A little morsel of evidence - proof that He sees me. That He'll rescue me. And then, like a child, I wait. For something I'm unsure of. (Lightening, maybe? Perhaps a shooting star?) And while I wait the stars - and God - seemingly remain absolutely silent. 
I know I'm not the only one. 
Because the reality of living this life is: there is and always will be struggle. We all have seasons that we are wrestling through something. While we have hope and certainty in Him, our faith sometimes wavers. While we are in Christ, we are still in this flesh - and as long as we remain on this earth, the two will always collide. (This is what makes the promise of heaven so, so sweet...) As I grow in Him I find the wrestling has become different. It's not so much a "I want what I want...please give it to me" as much as it now is "I want to want what you want". There most definitely IS a difference. I want to want what He wants...even if it's difficult. And while I don't want to struggle - I want what He knows is best used to reveal His glory...even if it feels sacrificial for me. My desire is to have a faith that overcomes any other desire or fear.  It's rather confusing and slightly contradictory, I know.  
 It's not by chance that Jacob's hip left him with wounds that would cause a limp. This would remind him the rest of his life of His meeting with God himself. Life naturally produces so many wounds and scars that remind us of where we've been and what we've fought through. Those wounds bring opportunity for us to reflect on those seasons in which we wrestled with and met with God. While painful, they can also be positive reminders, if we allow them. I picture Jacob, living this out years after his encounter with God. I can visualize him, sitting at his family table, quietly listening to the banter all around him. Reaching down and subconsciously rubbing his thigh, aching from the day's work in the hot sun. I picture him pausing and smiling to himself, remembering the very moment that God himself touched him - reminding him of who was in charge. Reminding him of who held his dreams, his hopes, his fears and his failures. I wonder if that wound was a constant assurance of God's many promises over Jacob's life. 
And I hope and pray that my own life's wounds will ever be so as well. 
May my heart's cry be: Lord, Jesus - come wrestle me, and win. 
Whatever the cost. 

Redirection

I recently discovered one of my blog books hiding within the chaos of our daughter's bedroom before she left home. Dusty pages of random ponderings from years gone by. 
As I flipped through the pages, a flood of memories came rushing back. The highs, the lows, and the seemingly in-between. The lessons learned and the struggles along the way. 
How quickly time slips through my hands....no matter how firm my grasp.
Life has morphed much since then; one girl off adventuring in another country as she lives out her mission in this season of her life to the Lord; while another girl has also moved on; given to marriage this past summer and beginning her own adventurous journey into life. And while I gratefully watch both stories unfold from a distance, it leads me to realization that my own journey is not yet complete. (Although my journaling of it has seemed to come to an abrupt halt in the past years.) 
I've analyzed many times as to why the pages of this season in life have been left void of content - it's seemed overwhelming to sit down and put my thoughts to words every time I've tried. Truth is, in the past several years life have been....challenging. To say the very least. To think of writing of it has seemed insurmountable. While there have been indescribable moments of good, the reality is that dealing with my own struggles, my ever-growing children's struggles as well as my husband's struggles has left me void of energy for anything else. I mistakenly believed that throwing myself into a photography business would help reclaim some sense of order to the uncontrollable emotional chaos that swirled all around me. And while it did help distract from the compiling issues...it also brought about even more complexities. 

And I couldn't escape the overwhelming feeling that I was drowning. 
Failing. In every way possible. 

Life is so, so intricate like that. The journey is so bipolar. Up and down. Unsteady. Unpredictable. 
As we were told it would be. 

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world

you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world."

John 16:33

Irony is: spending an entire lifetime seeking fulfillment (through relationships and tangible things), and realizing the answer has been in front of you the whole time. The mind has always known, the heart has always been slow to follow. 
I know what truth is. The application thereof is always the struggle. 
The goal, the destination of this one life has never, ever been happiness...it's holiness. Only through holiness can happiness be found. Yet we push so hard to make the opposite a reality. My marriage, my children - they have brought me immense joy and fullness through various seasons of life. But it's never been without cost. Over the years I've come to the conclusion that life's joys are a dichotomy of sorts: One of the best decisions I made was to get married - however, one of the hardest things I've discovered is to stay married. One of the best things I've done is had children; one of the hardest things I've done is raise them.  (Perhaps all joy comes paired with sorrow.) If one didn't know Christ and have a rooted understanding and conviction of the purpose of life...they would readily walk away from both. It is hard. But God created us to do hard things. 

I'm so grateful for each and every struggle. For God's patient yet corrective hand on my life. For his continual breaking of my heart and flesh to redirect me... 

My Sweet Lexi-Loo-Loo...

It's hard to believe that today has arrived. 
I always pictured it differently in my head. (One can never fully anticipate the entirety of something in the future until it actually happens.)
But here we are. 
And I am undone, and yet complete in joy. It's an odd, odd place to be. 
And there you are. You will be the most beautiful bride today; both inside and out. On this day the door to a new way of life unlocks for you. With each step you take down the aisle toward your groom, you take one step away from the only life you've ever known thus far. It's both scary and exciting. A new chapter of your life is beginning. Some of the best parts are yet to come. And some of the hardest, as well. But you know all that. I can see it in your eyes. I hear it when you share your heart. You are young, but God has prepared you in so many ways for this. 
While this day is about you, about him, and about the journey you're both embarking on, it's hard not to internalize what this means for me as your Mama. For nineteen years I've been given the gift of watching you grow. While I've done it rather imperfectly, I've been entrusted to nurture, protect, love and guide you. And today my task is to release and relinquish some of that. I'm not convinced that I know just how to do that. I'm not entirely sure I have it within me to. This particular chapter in my life of mother hood has shifted.
And in the days to come I will cry tears of sadness about this shifting...but not today. 
I will mourn the loss of each season of your childhood; the profound ways that our family will never be able to return to what has always been. But not today. 
 I will grieve deeply at the transition of life without the sound of your laughter through our home. I will no longer wait up late at night until your safe return; my heart will be sad to not hear your jokes and daily antics that remind me to embrace the simplicity of life. 
I will lament all of this and so much more...but not today. 
For today I will celebrate the beginning of new stories you get to call your own. I will gratefully release you into the next chapter that's about to unfold. I will dance in gladness at God's faithful protection over your life, heart and soul...and rejoice that He's not done working out His greatness in your life. 
No, I will not cry tears of sadness today...for today is not about me. Today's about the beauty and purity of love as demonstrated by your promises made to one another. Today is a reflection of a good, good God and His selfless example as the very definition of love and redemption. 
So, if you see any tears that happen to escape my eyes, know they are not tears of sadness or sorrow. They are tears of absolute joy; of overwhelming gratefulness for what God's done in your life, and what He's about to do from this day forward. 
Oh, how I love you, Lexi-Loo. I'm so proud and overwhelmingly grateful to be called your mom. 

For My Son-In-Law...

A man who finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains

favor from the LORD.

Proverbs 18:22

It's hard to believe that I find myself standing here...in this precise moment in time. The young woman you will soon hold in your arms - it seems like just yesterday I held as a babe in mine. For many years now, I've thought of you. I've prayed for you. For the man that you were growing to be, for the parents that were raising you. For the future you would choose.
And now, he we are. The culmination of those hopes and prayers. 
And while it's the ending of one beautiful season for me; it's also the beginning of another - for us all. That's the great paradox of life, I suppose. The ending of one thing is often the beginning of another. 
For you, it's the beginning of perhaps the biggest, longest and most impactful chapter of your life's story. There are so many blank pages to be filled, so many stories to be made...each one containing you and her together as the main characters. 
That's the absolute beauty and gift of marriage - togetherness. Celebrating the newness and wonderment of the blissful beginnings of marriage together. Seasons of accomplishing Kingdom-work, personal goals and personal growth - together. As well as seasons of mourning losses and overcoming various hardships in life...together. If the Lord so wills, celebrating new life, facing the obstacles and embracing the joys of child-raising together. 

...and the two become one flesh...so they are no longer two but one flesh.

Mark 10:8

Your joys become her joys. Her sorrows become your sorrows. Your struggles are hers, and hers are yours. From here until the end, all of your choices, difficulties, celebrations and consequences are shared. Not one step you take from here is ever taken alone. The weight of that responsibility is much. But the reward is even greater.

Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you

do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ

is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior.

Ephesians 5:22,23

To lead is no light thing. And likewise, to follow is no easy task. To follow a leader requires a trust that he is going to lead in the right direction. It is not a blind trust, for she weighed your character carefully before she said, "I do". In following, she is trusting that you are ever focused on The One, that you are ultimately guiding her towards Him. Seasons will come where that vision may become blurred; where your focus may become off and your leading difficult and perhaps even sorrowful to follow. God's grace is so much bigger, though - and her faithful prayers and trust in Him will guide you back. Expecting perfection in leading (or following) is futile and will most certainly end in disappointment and disunity. 
And likewise, seasons will come where her vision and purpose may be off; where she may struggle to follow. God's grace is so much bigger, though - and your faithful prayers, Christ-like love and gentle leading will guide her back. Leading and following is a delicate and deeply personal dance between man and wife - but with God at the center you'll both learn the rhythm. And when you do - the impact that it will have on God's Kingdom, your family and those around you will be powerful. 

While this momma's heart is mourning a little at the loss of my girl's presence in our home....I'm also incredible grateful for the gain. For increasing the love in our hearts to receive you as our son. I'm excited to sit back and watch your own story unfold and ponder the things that God has purposed out for you both as you begin your own family; your own traditions; your own roots. My prayer is that you both cling so tight to Christ, that no obstacle you encounter can shake you. That the promises you make before God to one another and your purpose in beginning life together remain fresh in your hearts always. Don't do things as either of your parents have done as though either of us are a fitting role model - do better. Seek the Lord always for what He is asking specifically of you, rather than settle for easy answers.

I press on toward the goal to win the prize of God's heavenly calling 

in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 3:14

 Don't grow complacent in living life - seek to keep ablaze a burning desire to do more and better for Him! Even if it is what the world considers a "simple life"...live it with a passion that desires to know and serve Him better. And always know - I'm your biggest fan. I'm cheering you both on. I want God's best for your lives and will be praying diligently as you seek Him and His will together. You have a community of brothers and sisters in Christ to lean on when you have burdens to share. You two are most definitely not alone in this new journey, regardless of what your heart may try to tell you. 

You have so much ahead of you. So many unwritten pages in your story to be filled. 
It's an honor to be a spectator. 

With Much Love and Prayer, 
Your Other Mom

Solitude - The Birthplace of Change

Returning from a quiet, restful week of camping in the woods with my boys, I'm reminiscent on the things my soul is learning. 
Time, I'm finding in my older years, is a quirky thing. The clock seems to speed up and the awareness of my own mortality is ever before me. This awareness leaves me pondering on the daily choices I make, how I choose to make the best of whatever time I'm granted left. While watching my ever growing boys splash in the water, I soak up the warm sunshine from the shoreline and I'm given the gift of what I haven't seemed to have had in forever: TIME. Time to just be. To think. To pray. To read and process. 
Quietness is something there is not much of within our home. Not that I'm complaining. I'm grateful for the hustle and bustle that is everyday life. Of little boys (constant) chatter, meaningful conversations with (now adult...when did this happen?!) our daughters, and friends-that-have-become-family who frequent our house. Life is indeed...full. And often heavy. We are in a fruitful, busy season of life - one that is equally rewarding as it is challenging. The past few years I've felt a sickness in my heart that I haven't quite been able to put into words until sitting on the sand beside the lake amongst nothing but creation all around me. And suddenly, the word finds me: Overwhelmed. 
Too much noise. 
Too much busy. 
Too much distraction. 
Some of it unavoidable, but some most definitely within my own choosing. 
Quiet is hard for the culture in which we live. Many fear it. It's in the quiet that we're forced to deal with the hard life things. Quiet forces us to process, both positive and negative things. 
We subconsciously drown the quiet every day. With social media, entertainment, music, activities. While theses things aren't terrible in and of themselves, we often use them to avoid dealing with the things we don't want to deal with in life. Conversations we don't want to have. Situations we don't want to deal with. Heartaches we don't want to face. Within the busy, relationships are easily neglected and we become more and more self-absorbed (perhaps in self-preservation; survival for the "overwhelmed") until we find ourselves in isolation: both from people and from God. And yet - because of all the noise, we're unaware that we're completely alone. We have a false sense of connectedness to those physically around us, while have little to no depth to those relationships. We're more connected to our smart phones and the imaginary worlds therein than those an arms length away.
Isn't it ironic? 
In the quiet I'm reminded of just how much I crave solitude. Not isolation, but solitude (there is a huge difference). Moments of reflection, prayer, praise and quiet pondering. Re-centering. There's something holy about solitude; perhaps for you are left alone with The One who sees and knows you. In solitude is the nakedness of who I am is brought forth. 
In this I feel the stirrings of change within areas of my heart that had long since grown dusty and stale. 
Change. 
It is coming.