Wednesday, November 20, 2013


I hear one of them humming just on the other side of the wall.

It's either the oldest or the youngest....because the middle one doesn't bother with hums. There is always a lyric to her tune, with a dance to coincide.

The boys charge out of the gate at the same time every morning. I have a clock hanging on the far wall in their room - and when the first born blonde sees the little hand on the 7 and the big hand on the's go time. The door swings open wide and fast and they begin hunting for two things.... and Mama.

The youngest usually toddles in after the oldest and climbs into my lap for the early morning squeeze.

Ah, bliss.

There's nothing like fresh cheeks from the crib....all soft and new.....ready for a Mama's kiss early in the crisp hours of the day.

The old boy - he likes a long sturdy hug.... but is really after something hot for his belly.

My lyric girl - she likes to sleep in a bit longer than her brothers - and she takes particular joy in me coming in after her....rather than her emerging from slumber and coming in after me.

(Isn't that just like a woman? All wanting to be noticed and discovered and wooed? It's already begun.)

Mornings are tender.

They set the tone for the hours ahead. They influence the condition of the heart for the rest of the day. They fill or empty.

The first few hours of wakefulness are vulnerable. They're unripe.

And us Mama's...we're wise to be ready for it.

Because the enemy is. He knows that the groggy eyes, the sleepy minds, the hurry and scurry of the day's awakening - can steal the joy and peace right out of a person's 24 hours.

However....understand this:

The enemy can steal.....but Mamas can still.

Whether your babies hop a school bus each AM,  or get dropped off by a carpool, or are left in the care of a trusted sitter, or settle into a school desk at home..... they need a prayed up, chaos free.... welcome to the day.

And those men of ours - who work and toil hard long hours each week....they need the same.

And good grief...all of us women...the ones who work out of the house and the ones who work within...the ones who have husbands present and the ones that don' women who help the world to keep spinning -

I'm not sure what this looks like for everyone. It could include a calm cup of coffee, or hot food, or candles, or quiet time in the Word, or an organized back-pack, or an already assembled lunch, or praise music, or kind notes,  or a good grateful attitude, slowness, touch, a ease atmosphere, or prayer. Yes, prayer.

Whatever brings an easy calm to the that.

And know.....that the true difference begins in just the awareness. The awareness that mornings are indeed delicate. And that they can make it or break it for our nearest and dearest.

Just knowing that hearts are exposed - and that enemies lurk - and that we have the faculty to influence it all - sets us up for some success.

Picture perfect mornings are rare. And even when they do occur - the day can run sour, fast. I know.

 But...ringing in some sweetness for all our people....little and big....helps them to dash into the day steady and ready.

Let it be so today, Lord. One dawn at a time....let us build up, fill up, rise up - and bless our beloveds. Equip our Mama hearts and calm our crazy minds....

and let us love well...

all day. 

"We produce an environment other people have to live in. We should be conscious of the fact that this environment which we produce by our very being can affect the people who live with us or work with us. The effect on them is something they cannot avoid. We should have thoughtfulness concerning our responsibility in this area."
- Edith Schaeffer in The Hidden Art of Homemaking


Other pertinent posts


Wednesday, November 13, 2013


As I turn the page back.....and read what leaked forth yesterday....I feel exposed.

The true state of my heart was outed.

My painfully immature longing for audience and affirmation - was laid out bare for you all - where eye and light hit heavy.

And that's good.

When light reaches a's grip is weakened.

How in the world the Holy Spirit got me to actually push publish for that post - I'll never know.

I would like to be recognized as the humble servant who works and toils joyfully - no back-pats needed. No fame flame to blow.

But reality and truth won out yesterday. I do desire constant confirmation and ongoing approval and total acceptance.

I knew this.

But now you do too.

And because of that - I already feel a bit more the chains have been loosened.

Any tendency or sin that gets nurtured and fed in the dark places of our hearts  -  shrinks when light shines in.

Exposure is medicine.

The enemy likes for things to stay all tucked in and unseen - because when things fester in the dim - they feast..... and take you over.

So it's all good....and I'm glad.....but I do feel found out.

Oddly, I woke up this morning with an old hymn in my head.

Our holy God knew I'd need it. And I could just about cry as I copy this out the care and tenderness and all out knowing of our Abba Father.

The song?

Just As I Am

Charlotte Elliot penned this piece when she had been "kept wakeful by distressing thoughts of her apparent uselessness".*

Further more....

 "these thoughts passed by a transition easy to imagine into a spiritual conflict, till she questioned the reality of her whole spiritual life, and wondered whether it were anything better after all than an illusion of the emotions, an illusion ready to be sorrowfully dispelled."*

But then....

"She gathered up in her soul the great certainties, not of her emotions, but of her salvation : her Lord, His power, His promise. And taking pen and paper from the table she deliberately set down in writing, for her own comfort, "the formulae of her faith." Hers was a heart which always tended to express its depths in verse. So in verse she restated to herself the Gospel of pardon, peace, and heaven."*

This Charlotte woman - I like her.

And the God we both long to gleam - His love overwhelms me this moment.

After all that spilling out - He would awaken me with verses ladled in verse by a lady who seems to  have struggled in a few of the same ways I do.

He's ever so sweet and aware of our every heart moan.

After the song woke me up this morning....I opened my inbox. And waiting for me there....was this:

"Many people that are not interested in minor things make comments such as, “I am just not a details person.” I am guilty. Here is a personal confession. I used to say the above statement precisely because I tied importance to fame and minor things were not important. Honestly, I wanted to be noticed. Even deeper though, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t forgotten. In fact, I think most people struggle with fame not even as much because they want to be known, but more because they are absolutely terrified they will be insignificant and forgotten." **

One of our pastors sends out an email every Wednesday - and the above quote is from today's. 

The need for fame
The longing for significance
The desire to be remembered

Familiar topics, eh?

At the end of my last post - I prayed that God would "meet me in the weaving." 

It's only been about 24 hours....and He already has.


*Just as I Am (hymn)." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 11 Apr. 2013. Web. 13 Nov. 2013.
*Brownlie, John. [The Hymns and Hymn Writers of the Church Hymnary.]. London: Henry Frowde, 1911. N. pag. Print.

**Burger, Vernon. "Wandering And Wondering‏". Nov. 2013. E-mail.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Just This

I had a post all scribbled down and close to complete....explaining why I was calling it quits for a season.

Explaining that this novice of a writer likes to be read.

I had explained in furry one late dark night last week, red-faced and embarrassed - that while I was thankful for my fist-full of faithful readers - I was also immensely discouraged by so few showing up.

I had gone to all those other journals- by all those other Mamas that not only write blogs......but books.

And I had meandered down to the comments sections - to see the many responses. And I had perused the sidebars and noticed all of the contributions and links and accolades.

And the pictures. Oh, the artful pictures these women attach to their writing....such beauty.

But me here....with no comments, no links, no matrix, no networks, no ties to awesomeness. No high resolution camera to catch moments. No money in the budget for domains and design and blog conferences. No grammar prowess. No leads that my writing was going anywhere, ever.

While it's certainly true that I had heard and groaned and grown...from spilling it all out here - And while I understood that it wasn't about the numbers and the fancy.... I had become withered.

Shoot....I'm still withered.

But right before I made closing edits and wrapped up the final post - I suddenly got the idea that maybe I should do the opposite of what I felt....and dive headlong into what I knew.

At some point years back.....I had noticed that my heart sang easy and light when words were coming forth.

Words had begun to woo me. And then the went and sent me swaying, too.
So right there.....on a new budding phenomenon called blogging - I started to jot out snippets and sayings and words and happenings.

"'ve been blogging for over...five years?!?"

Yes, yes. I have.

"And you only have four official followers?"


"And you get more hits from spam sites in Russia than you do real searching souls on English speaking ground?"

Yep, that's right.

I've basically been blogging since blogging got big - and here I am - weak and meek in the back row of it all.

And the reality of it, among other things - just hit heavy and deep last week. It just came to a point and I popped.

Deflated, down - I had decided that perhaps I had forced writing to be my thing.....simply because I didn't have any other thing I could call my own.

Perhaps I had just picked up the pen to satisfy my longing for worth. Perhaps it wasn't a gift given to me at all - but a hobby I had stumbled across as I groped for purpose.

In the midnight hours as my husband slept in the bed nearby- that's what I hashed out in my little green notebook that night. And before I turned out the lamp light and laid warm next to him - my mind was made that I would simply set it aside for a while.

I thought that maybe it would be a good test - and a good way to press in to Him about it all.

But then.....I got to the last few lines of explaining it here - and it occurred to me that the one way I really know how to press into by pressing these keys. The one way I know to tap to tap out.

On top of that....

I heard a preacher say once that often times.....the enemy will convince you to quit right before you reach a breakthrough.

And dang-it.... I want breakthrough.

So I'm giving it a go.

Sometimes doing the total opposite of what we feel....and relying on what we know....brings forth good, God things.

I'm praying that the next few months will sprout something new. I'm praying that as I write here in this spot.... that God's directions for me in this will clarify.

 Meet me in the weaving, Lord. And if this is all a waste of my time - show me the way. But if this longing to put words to what I see and hear and learn - is from You.... if the writing can be used to really inspire and move and impact the Kingdom....

then .... let it flower.