when you find that you just might be free indeed...

it happens at a stop light.

i'm frazzled and they are all frazzled and to calm my nerves i try and say back those words from romans that are, for whatever reason refusing to become embedded in my memory.

it's as i'm whispering those words,

they have no understanding, no fidelty, no love, no mercy...

 i sit with my hands on the wheel and i'm nodding because it's me,

i've lacked all four today.

and the weight is heavy. 

that's when i looked up past the speedometer and the road to the van in front of me.

i looked up just as i got to romans chapter 8 verse 1 and there in the top left hand corner, just below the rear window was a small metal ichthys wrapped around His Name and He met me on the corner opposite that mcdonald's as i whispered out,

therefore, there is now no condemnation for those 

who are in Christ Jesus...

and there is a man on that corner most days, his sign says he's hungry and isn't there just someone who could spare a dollar?

i drive by most days without ever making eye contact...

i avert my gaze because sometimes it's just easier not to see.

and i wonder, how often do we do that with each other?

how often do we walk the hallways of our churches and don't really see? 

flash a quick smile,

shake hands and spit out a hello while barely making eye contact before we move on.

how often do we hear a sermon about reaching out to the poor and lost among us and smile and nod and assume someone else will do that job while we remain quiet and comfortable where we are?

we do we run from the hurting brother or sister instead of surrounding them and carrying them to Jesus?

we carry our hand santizers in pockets and purses and it's seeping into the way we deal with one another - and your mess is too messy for my life and so i just won't meet your gaze,

i just won't look,

i'll focus on how fast i'm going or the road i'm on...

but i wonder, when we look,

really look at the person who is stopped still in front of us,

stopped in the middle of a mess or broken heart or the deep pain of their broken humanity,

will we really see the mark of Christ on their life?

will reaching out past our fear and our aversions to the messy

be met instead with an encounter with Jesus,

and find that incredibly, in Him alone, we have been set free...

when prayer changes...

it was over the noise and chaos of dinner the other night that i heard her familiar question asked around an unfamiliar table.

words were flying all over the place so i'm surprised i heard it,

but not really surprised she asked it...

if that makes sense.

our olivia?

she's bold.

her emotions, her voice, her actions, her frustrations, and even her sleep - it's all done loudly.

all of it.

i don't know how many times i have to remind her that she doesn't have to shout in my face - my ears work just fine.

or they did...

either way, if she feels strongly about something, it's done with strong emotion.

her love for Jesus?

strong.

and she has no idea how there is anyone out there beyond our four walls who doesn't love Jesus...

so she has made it her personal mission to find out just who those people are.

and why.

she could care less if it makes you uncomfortable, she wants to know the state of your heart because a heart without Jesus just doesn't make sense to an olivia that loves Him so.

so, when i heard her turn to her newest friend over hot dogs and hamburgers and ask the inevitable question, i smiled.

because when his little face beamed back at her that yes, he did know Jesus, her shoulders relaxed and her summer-bare feet kicked and she shouted right back in his face that she did too.

and her quest to know was stilled for another day,

but i was left to wonder...

i stood behind that counter on friday.

friday is ice-cream day and my hands were sticky from a melted mess and there was one guy who walked in with ear-buds blaring and cap pulled down and he leaned against the edge and wouldn't meet my eyes.

little ones i can talk to.

the older girls? there's always something to find common ground over - hair, clothes, make-up...

but a boy on the edge of being a man?

i am at a loss.

and really, i think they may be at a loss too.

i mean, i'm tony's wife and i'm a thousand years old and what do i know about what they know and so canipleasehavemyicecreamandgetthisawkwardmomentoverwithasfastaspossible?  thank you very much.

so i did what i do and made small talk about school and kept it light and laughed at my own jokes as i put that first scoop in the cone when he took out that one ear-bud and blurted out a sentence of pain.

and i set down the spoon and let the ice cream drip while it all poured out and he stood there at the end broken.

my first thought wasn't to ask him if he knew Jesus.

why did i stand there wishing that i knew how to make his pain stop when i know very well Who can bind up his brokenness?

Jesus, He is so easy to talk about with like-minded friends - with those you suspect just might know Him too. but when the faces across the counter will barely crack a smile...

i am ashamed at my lack of courage.

because why am i there if not to share the love of Jesus? why am i there if not to be His Heart to those places that are gasping for Hope?

my prayer changed this weekend.

olivia has the bold gene...

she didn't get it from me.

but the God Who can take faith, tiny and small, and move mountains with it? He can take my fear and grow deep and bold courage from it...

i just have to say yes.

and it was on a quiet weekend evening that i read these words...

scripture describes a radical, reoriented life for those who trust

Christ - one full of living for the invisible and the future. it is a life

fully surrendered to an invisible God whose agenda for my time here

is contrary to my own, a life very different from the safe, comfortable

one i was creating.

i started craving something that had never seemed acceptable to

me until that day...a reckless faith, a faith where i knew God was

real because i needed Him, a faith where i lived surrendered, obedi-

ent, a faith where i sacrificed something...comfort or safety or practicality...

something. but my heart raced faster when i thought 

of it, and something about it resonated.

stepping out wholly dependent on God to come through, step-

ping away from what is secure and comfortable exposes the holes

in our faith. and then if God comes through, it expands our faith.

something about stepping off cliffs where God leads allows God the

opportunity to move in greater ways. when we step off and He shows

up, we see Him differently than we would if we were standing safely

looking over the edge.

jennie allen - anything

my prayer changed this weekend...

and all He needed was my yes to begin moving and growing a boldness and courage that would terrify me if it wasn't for the fact that i said that yes to that risk in the first place.

and the gene that makes olivia so bold in her asking? it's in His blood that was poured out for her. 

for me.

for you.

sometimes it just takes a little longer to surface in some than in others...

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation

 to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.

For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, 

“The righteous shall live by faith.” (Romans 1:16-17, ESV)

a gift picked up, put away, put back

2187. carton of strawberries

2188. end of the day mess

2189. laundry soap for another load

3 gifts about you

2190. desire for Jesus

2191. love of baking

2192. getting to teach my little ones at home

3 gifts found in His Word

2193. He gives direction and purpose

2194. it's all full of His breath

2195. hope that changes me

a gift in a box, a bag, a book

2196. 2 pies

2197. books bundled together

2198. glimpses of grace in the gift of family come near

3 gifts unexpected

2199. a reminder for sanctuary on saturday

2200. a day turned around

2201. a kitchen done and a friend washing my floors

3 gifts from your childhood

2202. memories of puppy breath relived

2203. love of quiet sunday afternoons

2204. that chocolate chip cookie recipe

a gift sweet, sour, salty

2205. a hug from my aunt and uncle

2206. a small bowl of yogurt before bed

2207. peanut butter stuffed pretzels

3 gifts found in little people

2208. imagination

2209. arms-flung-wide hugs

2210. trust

3 gifts that made you laugh

2211. coffee with a friend

2212. tony's protective eye-wear

2213. olivia's frog dance

3 gifts found in community

2214. bob - willing to hold zeruiah

2215. gane - sittin with lyla and her schoolwork

2216. christina - the way she loves olivia

a gift in a plate, pot, package

2217. cloudy day banana bread

2218. fresh roses

2219. canadian chocolate

3 gifts hard giving thanks for

2220. little one messes - it's only for a season

2221. an unknown - He knows

2222. risk taking - isn't really a risk in His Hands

a gift worn, white, whispered

2223. mama-weariness

2224. late spring clouds

2225. lyla-secrets

3 gifts found in church

2226. children's program

2227. a re-grounding for the week

2228. receiving communion

3 gifts in today's work

2229. cleaned home

2230. completed school work

2231. midnight nursing

a gifts at 8am, 12pm, 8pm

2232. everyone fed and dressed

2233. a home ready for guests

2234. one last story before bed

3 gifts blue

2235. zeruiah's blue eyes

2236. my favorite pen found

2237. the sky at dusk

3 gifts you gave today

2238. a listening ear

2239. a hug

2240. a bedtime prayer

3 gifts orange

2241. that new book

2242. washing lyla's giraffe shirt

2243. orange slices in my water

3 gifts funny

2244. liv boxing with jake in the church foyer

2245. tony's random songs

2246. she turned 5 months old laughing...

{the grace series will continue on wednesday...}

to the one who hides behind *the fine*...chapter 4 {the grace series}

even in laughter the heart may ache,

and joy may end in grief.  proverbs 14:13

it's okay to not be fine.

it's okay to stand and say, i'm a mess. it's a mess...*life* is a mess.

it's okay to come out from behind the facade and sit bare and broken and bruised.

i know - it doesn't feel like it.

the last thing that anyone freely embraces is vulnerability - it's scary and open and intimate.

you have that reputation to uphold and that strength everyone seems to rely on and aren't you the one who always seems to keep the peace? make everything better?

make everyone laugh?

yeah...

that's you.

and her.

and me.

i sit surrounded most days, by the most vulnerable among us. 

my own children and other mothers children.

more often than not, there is laughter.

lots of laughter...

but there are the days when the veneer cracks just a little and you are let in to the broken places and there is nothing you can do but reach out a hand and try and cup around that hurt with the little you have and trust the God Who is big enough to be enough.

my own little girl,

her veneer cracked wide open this afternoon - the fine she was trying so bravely to hide behind wasn't strong enough anymore and she just needed to hear, needed to know that the heart she grew under would always beat strong for her - would never stop loving her. would never stop pulsing to the rhythm of her mama's love for her.

she needed to know that who she was behind her fine had worth.

i pulled her close onto my lap, wiped those tears away and she leaned her ear over this heart and she listened.

...so often, the idea that we have to keep it together no matter what is what keeps
good girls from coming out from behind our sweet, smiling exteriors. we believe 
that any amount of broken mess disqualifies us from useful activity for God, so
we determine to stay decidedly broken.  

grace for the good girl (pg. 51)

and being broken begins to take many forms,

conforming you to the ideals and ideas of the people around you until you either become hopeless or angry or both and then you spiral downward again because the good always take the middle - doesn't everyone know that leaning to the right or to the left, even just a little, is bad.

feeling scared meant i needed more faith. feeling anger

meant i needed more control. feeling confused meant i 

needed to get it together and figure things out. in theory, i knew

i was supposed to cast my fear, anger, confusion on the Lord.

but after "trusting" Him with my circumstances, i thought

it was my responsibility to change the emotions and keep

myself from experiencing them again.

gftgg (pg. 55)

around and around it goes and the cycle, it never is unbroken because the only thing truly broken

is you.

but you keep clinging to what left you broken, because that is the thing that defines you. that is what you keep coming back to, because that is tangible. and sometimes, even what is ugly can feel safe because it is what feels familiar...

it might be time to let go.

let go of the broken shards that leave you bloody and weak and instead cling tightly to the wild and unpredictable God Whose grace is pure and gentle enough to love you whole.

honesty before God is the only safe place, and i believe He is

wise enough and loving enough and intuitive enough to usher us

into honesty with people...only as i depend on and trust in and fully

disclose to the One Who knows anyway will i be able to discern when

i'm fine-ing someone who deserves genuine...

gftgg (pg. 56)

i've learned it the hard way - 

i've lived believing that in order to be truly authentic, truly vulnerable, one has to fully disclose to everyone.

i wish that i had known better sooner...

i've also learned, through the hard way, that Jesus - the One Who knit me together and ordained all my days - He is trustworthy. and as i've learned to trust Him more, He brings the safe and the trustworthy ones to love me in the middle of my mess.

and it is good.

and it is safe.

and He takes the fine and makes it healed.

or healing...

it depends on the day.

step out from behind the lie of the fine.

yes - there will be those that walk away, there even may be those that will make fun of your risk.

but you will find that it is good - really. it is.

you just have to take that first step...

our fluctuating humanness is there on purpose, to remind

us of our need and draw us to the One Who can meet it. we

don't have to figure out the whys and the origins of every

swinging emotion. but it is so important that we admit they

are there. to embrace the color and fullness of our emotional,

un-fine state is to open wide enough to receive compassion

and grace. only then will we be able to offer that same com-

passion and grace to others in honest and authentic ways.

gftgg (pg. 58)

His overwhelming Grace is waiting...

when it's hard to be still...

"be still, and know that I Am God,

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth!"

psalm 46:10

in light of tragedies and loss and and bombs and fear and all those unknowns...


sometimes it's okay to quiet.

to slow.

i don't think you have to know the answers,

though we would like them.

sometimes restlessness rages in because there must be *something* you can do...

and there are times for that.

but sometimes,

maybe the better thing

is just to sit in His presence.

to allow Him to quiet your heart from all those fears and from all the unknowns.


and maybe it's naive -

that mama and i talked in that playground last week,

we talked of those "what ifs",

what if, as we sat there on that green, a bullet flew and one of us died,

if one our children were struck,

what then?

and she said it quiet,

i would still trust Him.  i would. because i know where we are going and i know Who is in control.  but maybe that's foolish.  a lot of my friends think so...

and i looked at her and i shared what we've lost. i shared of that horrid new year's eve and the life we lost in the softly falling snow.  i looked at her and i told her that it's faith. it's trusting in a good God when everything else falls apart.

because when it all seems good, when everything seems to be going our way, that is precisely when we need to plant those seeds of faith...

so that when it all falls apart, when everything around us explodes in chaos and all those unknowns fly in the air around us, we can rest in His presence,

maybe not knowing the whys, but knowing, so very deep down, that He is good. 

3 gifts round
2058. mug of coffee
2059. crispy apple
2060. that dimple under her lip

3 gifts white
2061. clean teeth
2062. lazy, hazy clouds
2063. apple blossoms in those orchards

3 gifts surprisingly found
2064. kindred spirits
2065. matching socks
2066. common ground

3 gifts in His Word
2067. luke 10:22 - my name is in heaven
2068. romans 1:12 It is a gift to be encouraged by another's faith
2069. acts 2:28 - He shows us the path to life - being with Him is joy

3 gifts @ 11AM, 2PM, 6PM
2070. school chaos
2071. nap snuggles with zeruiah
2072. laughter at MH

3 gifts nailed together
2073. this house
2074. the fence the  neighbour fixed
2075. my desk

3 gifts waited for
2076. that abused dog we adopted - her tail finally wagged when she saw us!
2077. vacation plans finalized
2078. those cherry trees to bloom

3 gifts raising up
2079. 8 hours of sleep uninterrupted
2080. seeing beauty in our ashes
2081. watching the sun come up in the early nursing hours

a gift hiding, held, heard
2082. elias under his blanket
2083. zeruiah snuggled up in that ergo
2084. lyla singing

3 gifts opened up
2085. yellow tulips
2086. jar of salsa
2087. a book avoided too long

3 gifts budding/blooming
2088. our japenese weeping willow
2089. hyacinths
2090. those flowers hanging over our fence

3 gifts worn
2091. that circle of gold and diamonds on my finger
2092. skin stretched, changed
2093. zeruiah's tears

3 gifts bright
2094. date night
2095. all their smiles
2096. 6 AM morning light

3 gifts found looking up
2097. dark rain clouds
2098. the cross that points to hope
2099. tony's hope beyond circumstances

and it's in the little ways,

the small thanks that keep me quiet before Him.

He is here - even when it's chaos,

even when it's scary and we don't understand.

Jesus is here and i quiet my heart before Him...

(and huge thank you to Gravrock Photography for including our little family in the pictures at Madison House...a gift treasured.)

for when it happens... {letters to my four}

there are some things i've learned as i come to the mid point of my life,  and should i be given another 37, almost 36 years, i'm sure i will learn a lot more.

i could come to this place in my life and focus on the one thing that seems to dog my every step,

you will mess up.

not if.

not maybe.

but when.

there will be a myriad of reasons, sweet ones. there will be circumstances beyond your control and there will be details that are very much a part of you and the action you take.  

it's just how it is.

and you can take a look at your mess and feel hopeless.

like you have messed up so badly that there is no way to fix it.

i think i was there.

no, that's not true.

i know i was there.

you may know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God has placed a call on your life.  made it clearer than anything and you keep taking the next step forward each day because you know, eventually, you are going to get there.

and then, you trip. 

you land flat on your face.

you drip with the mess you landed yourself in.

and the one who deceives, he comes close and he whispers those words that sink deep and your heart will sink deeper still.

failure

worthless

un-usable

and you may think that all you are good for is to be placed high up on that shelf of the broken,

the useless,

the screw-ups.

and that focus? the one that zeros in on the mess? 

it will keep you there.

my bible study leader, miss sue, the one who keeps placing me at her table each session, she finds me and tells me to come again for the next one. who cares that i have a newborn! didn't i know how many arms would hold her?  

so i go, and i soak it in. i soak in the message of mercy and i let God get to the tender places that fester with hurt and pain and, dare i say it, anger.

but still i believed, no matter how wrongly, that sure, He can get to those places, heal them and clean them up, but now i'll just be a cleaned up, healed up, broken and useless screw-up saint high up there on the shelf.

right?

that's how it works, isn't it?

oh - i pray that i show you differently.

i pray that you all see it differently than i ever saw it.

because He is becoming what i crave - i can't get enough of Him. this Jesus who continually takes your mama-who-messes-up every. day. and He keeps bending down in the sand and writing out that plan.  He does.  He really does. 

and this is what i learned in that study on james: 

 he was one of the Lord's brothers who mocked Him and called Him mad. 

he was the half-brother of Jesus who didn't believe, but became the head of the Early Church in Jerusalem.

he messed up.

all those years, growing up with Jesus, living life with Creator God and he didn't see. he didn't see His Savior standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

instead, he called Jesus crazy.

but even then, God had a call on his life.

even then.

it never changed.

it never wavered.

"for I know the plans I have for you", declares the Lord, "plans for welfare 

and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. then you will call upon Me 

and come and pray to Me, and I will hear you. you will seek Me and find Me 

when you seek Me with all your heart."

jeremiah 29:11-13

you aren't going to take Him by surprise when you mess up.

He already knows.

His plan covers all that.

no, it probably would have been best if you don't make the choices that you will, that maybe you should have looked a bit closer at the path before you tripped and fell, but where you can only see a bit of the road ahead,  He sees the whole world held in His Hands.

if you find yourself dusty and hidden high up on a saintly shelf, know this - Jesus didn't put you there.

you did.

so climb down - wrestle with Him if you have to, let Him work out in you what needs to be worked out. you may find yourself limping afterwards a bit, but keep walking, little one.

keep walking.

the path ahead of you is all part of His plan...

to know...{letters to my four}

it all fell apart that canadian winter - you knew it deep down too.  fractured something in us all like that -26 air did to those snapping metal posts buried quiet in the frozen snow.

it's been a long, slow thaw.


there are four of you now, but then, it was just the older three and there are times and moments i wish your minds were just as newborn-free as hers.

and yet, i think remembering the hard has maybe been the most freeing gift of all.


we dedicated zeruiah at the front of our church, the pastor held her in his arms and i became overwhelmed by the weight of it all.

he had asked us three simple questions and i almost fell apart.  she only weighed a mere eight pounds and yet the weight of her very life...

my arms aren't strong enough for that.

nothing about me is strong enough for that.

she was only eighteen days old and suddenly the length of her life stretched out before me and how can the broken lead?

olivia, you sat down next to me in the warmth of a sunlit window, brought our your bible and asked me to read.  you have your favorite stories - the ones we keep coming back to.  there's adam and eve and that snake you love to hate. noah and the animals and that rain that fell for days on days and seemed as though it would never end.  you love to hear how Jesus walked on water and how peter tried. the 5000 that were filled on the small amount of bread and fish and then you asked to hear another...

i turned to 1 kings - to one of your daddy's favorite stories. the one of elijah and the fire God sent from heaven. the one where he stood up against the false and faith watched flames lick up the last drop of water. you sat confused over the fact that there were some who didn't believe in God.


i thought back to what broke in the ice and the snow two years ago now.

there's still shards of that life still lying around us - sharp edges that still leave wounds. but what has busted isn't all bad - because what i had clung to for so many years was just as broken as me.  my faith was in a god who i tried to shape in my own image...

and Jesus allowed it to break open, and in the long years since canada, He's taken this heart and opened it back up.

how can the broken lead?

i look at the four of you and become so scared of failure, scared of the world around us and the skeptics and false teachings and wonder how you will ever see Him in the middle of it all...

i can easily forget that He is the One Who does all the searching, He is the One Who draws you close.


but as your mama, He chose me to talk to you about Him, to teach you and to live out an example...

so we'll start here - at the beginning...

because that is Who He is.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

(John 1:1-5 ESV)


you need to know that before anything, God was. God spoke and it all came to be. you can trust this. you can trust that His life was given so that you can live.

so let's take it one step at a time in the coming days and months ahead.

but before we can move forward, we need to camp here and know, to your very marrow, that He. Is.

love,
mama

when it might be winter...

it's not having a newborn that is keeping this place quiet...no, it's my heart.

there's a lot going on in the quiet and deep places and if there really are seasons like i'm reading about, i think i might be knee deep in the dead of winter.

but not in a bad way,

just a quiet way.

and there's no way out without first going through...


and i'm okay with that.

she turned seven and then we opened our door for super bowl (and yes, this is probably random and the most awkward transition - i'm okay with that too.) and our home was filled once again with the loud and the laughter and the kids that we love so deeply.

but it wasn't until the next morning that i stood out on our front stoop to kiss him good bye that i noticed that board hung up by our front door.

i'm not going to pretend that i understand everything about tagging - i think i know that each tagger has his own name, his own symbol and if we look close enough now as we drive down those streets, i can point out who has done what where...

and before,

before this job, before these kids, graffiti to me was a messy, ugly, destruction of property - and in some cases, it is. in some cases, it is meant to be cruel, it is meant to destroy and bring down - but in some cases, the one behind that spray can is actually creating art.

i didn't know that until i began to know these kids.


i didn't know how beautiful it all could be until i began to see it through their eyes.


my house got tagged on sunday - in a small and not large way.  it took me a minute to decipher it, but as i pointed it out to tony, i couldn't help but grin.


there is beauty in the messy.

i need to believe that right now...


because sometimes we can make a huge mess of things, take a big old spray can filled of whatever you want and make a big old ugly disaster of your life and nothing short of a miracle can ever clean it up.

at least, that's what it feels like,

that's what it can look like,

in the very dead of winter.

sometimes it can take a minute to decipher through everything you've scrambled up before you can see His Hand held open and ready to take your own and make something beautiful out of it.


and it's okay to take that minute.  it's okay to move slow.  it's okay to not rush through...

so i'm not.

i'm trying to be patient as i wait for Him, wait for His Hands to move.

and while i wait, i keep trying to give thanks...

3 startling graces of God
1827. a good, kind husband
1828. that i have carried 5 babies and held 4 in my arms
1829. the way He paints the sky the deepest rose and indigo

a gift worn, given away, shared
1830. elias' tears
1831. dinner from julie
1832. our date-night in (and all those m&m's!)

3 witnessed blessings
1833. lyla's growing confidence
1834. no post-partum depression this time around
1835. the way zeruiah is loved already by others

a gift bringing laughter, prayer, quiet
1836. liv's humor
1837. broken relationships
1838. everyone sleeping

3 gifts from God's Word
1839. startling conviction
1840. zacheriah and how obedience ='s an open, praising mouth
1841. that He offers tender mercy

3 gifts that might never have been
1842. lyla and livie
1843. him and me
1844. our friendships here

3 gifts only seen close up
1845. the mess on the table
1846. lyla's freckles (that she detests)
1847. the constant search for that binkie...

a gift in sky, water, memory
1848. a grey, dreary day
1849. 4 clean little ones
1850. how zeruiah keeps reminding me of the small, first moments with lyla

a gift wrinkled, smoothed, unfolded
1851. her hand clutching my neckline while she nurses
1852. a lunchtime invite from a dear friend
1853. the hard stories we are trusted to hear

3 gifts found in Christ
1854. strength for when i'm weary
1855. He gives wisdom for the searching
1856. secure salvation

3 things blue
1857. the way elias loves frozen blueberries
1858. z's blue-black eyes
1859. glimpses of the blue sky through all that grey

a grace borrowed, found, inherited
1860. those science books
1861. the way they remember
1862. that sense of humor they all seem to have

a gift before dawn, at noon, after dark
1863. 4 am snuggles
1864. full plates = full tummies
1865. an unexpected date night

3 gifts found in the kitchen
1866. that big ol' jar of peanut butter
1867. time in His Word at that old, old kitchen table
1868. homemade granola bars

3 graces found in friends
1869. quiet, thoughtful in-box notes
1870. coffee visits around my table with some apple-cider caramels thrown in
1871. new friends who feel gloriously old

a song heard, a soft word, light seen
1872. worn - because i was
1873. his morning whispers of love
1874. a sun break

3 old things seen new
1875. her 7 year old face
1876. her beautiful eyes
1877. the way her hands still curl when she sleeps

a gift on paper, in a person, in a picture
1878. z's dedication certificate
1879. a visit with a friend who keeps pointing me to Jesus
1880. that He provides what i need

3 gifts red
1881. lyla's flushed cheeks
1882. red chalk dust on my fingers
1883. zeruiah's lips

3 gifts on paper
1884. a pretty banner to celebrate - well worth the late night before
1885. words of love for lyla on a birthday card
1886. that her daddy wrapped all of her gifts

3 gifts found in writing
1887. my home that has been tagged
1888. my gramma's writing hung up on my fridge...gone 10 years and she still points me to His Word
1889. the way they write their names

for when i just need to write it down...

it was two weeks ago on thursday that i went to watch him play.

loaded up my one week old girl and while she slept, i watched her daddy guard that net.


and our home, we opened it up for the boys on the team - a place to be warm and safe before the shoes were slipped on and the match was to start and there was an extra little boy that joined them...

he throws his arms around my neck when he first comes charging up our stairs - hangs on tight and whispers an excited "hi!" in my ear...

within minutes i hear the happy yelling from down below and i know he's found them - my older three and there won't be much calming down for a while now...


i know he'll be at the game too and while i pack up snacks, i throw an extra one in for him and i see him watch the handful of other people there, i watch his eyes as he watches them hand out food to each other.  i see the longing.

so i call his name.

i motion him over.

i have something for you too.

and i don't know what he needs more of - a little baggie of trail mix, or the nearness of my arm. so i hold still and let him sit close. i encourage his choice of picking out all the m&m's and leave the rest of the good stuff behind.

and it's not long before he's up and running, playing hide-and-go-seek with one of his friends...

but soon, the clock ticks later and not even the excitement of the game can hold him rapt.  he climbs up the bleachers to sit near my legs,

and soon, he's leaning into me - and i recognize the signs. sleep isn't far off.

and soon, he's turned so that he can place his small head on my knees and i know how bony they are, so i reach for a blanket pink and lean forward and ask him to lift his head,

i place the pink flannel beneath his cheek and as i lean close i hear him whisper,

i wish i could live with you.


sometimes it hurts.

seeing all of that hurt, hearing of all the hurt, watching young lives self-destruct...

sometimes, there's no words that can be used.


you just lay down at night and pull up the blankets close under chin and reach for each others hands and wonder what more you can do?


sometimes the nightmares come, the ones that jolt you awake as you call out the name of Jesus, and you can't catch your breath because it was all too real and as the inky sky begins to grey, your eyes are still open, your prayers just as broken,

but you are so very sure He is there.


and i don't know why i write all this down...maybe because i don't want to become jaded or calloused.  maybe because the need is so very real - the brokenness more shattered than i ever imagined. maybe because one day this young boy will grow up and with all the evil in the streets around us, i worry over him.  worry over so many who walk through the mission doors.

and Jesus asks us not to worry, but to trust.  trust that He is the same today, yesterday and forever; that tomorrow has enough worries of its own - but because The One Who is timeless and who has planned out all these days is in control, i can let go of my anxiety.

i can lean close against Him and know that someday, everything that is wrong and broken and imperfect will be fixed...

that it won't be just a longing anymore,

someday i will live in His presence completely whole...

in the quiet...

i've been told this little one could come any day...

i feel like she could come any day.


and my older three, the ones who sense that change is coming, the ones who try to snuggle as close as they can, the ones who struggle with fears of being displaced, they hover close.


and i feel quiet.

even in spaces loud and crowded, i feel quiet.

today, the doors were opened and so many children and families walked through those doors of that old school.  i awoke tired, i walked tired, i moved tired and i was worried that all that tiredness would follow me in...

i walked into a blanket of peace.

oh, i was still tired, still quiet, but the calls of merry christmas and feliz navidad and hands reaching out to rest on my belly, it was a cacophony of peace...

women with skin lovely and darker than mine, voices accented with beauty, they reach out and i see it in their eyes - the knowing.  the knowing of what it is to be a mama, to have walked tired in those long, last days, and i find myself wrapping my hands around their own and in those moments...


all those moments that have been so empty,

all those moments that silently scream with a mocking to all that this season means,

all those moments that point to empty chairs and broken hearts and shattered lives and estranged families...


He fills them.

quietly and simply.


tony, he was up at 4 and left at 6 and lyla crawled into bed with me at 6:15...

i listened to her breathe quiet and soft as elias banged around his room - a morning person - just like his daddy.


and as i left this evening, he said it to me quietly - i'm going to bring a few of them home with me tonight before the night game, and they all laughed at me as i worried over my messy home and it was in that moment that i realized -

it's okay that it's messy.

life is messy and love is messy and God Himself entered into the mess of a barn.


only two came home with him...

at first.

only two and i watched as elias, he crawled up beside these big, tough, intimidating guys - and all those walls, they come tumbling down in the face of an innocent child and as the door bell rang again and again and those shoes kept piling up at our door and bodies kept pouring in and finding room and once the living room was filled, the basement was used and soon there wasn't anymore room there either...

and i found him, with his sweet smile i've loved for over a decade and i found a spot beside him on the floor.


i know some of the stories that filled our walls this evening,

i know some of the brokenness that accompanies each one.

we are all broken to some extent.


and i sat with a home filled to bursting,

laughter and teasing happening all around us,

my children throwing themselves with abandon into the pure joy that a filled home brings...


i sat beside him with my hand on my belly and my family doesn't look the way i ever thought it would, i never imagined that i would find myself on this path that He has placed us on...


and how do i put into words what these last six months have done?  my heart that was so broken that week after christmas 3 years ago, that felt so fragile just 12 months ago, has stretched and grown and wrapped around these kids that seemed so very different from me, but really, truly aren't.


i wrote last year of christmas being shellacked and veneered with impossible expectations, and i still believe it to be true.  when Jesus is no longer the focus, we try and fill in that void with all things pretty and festive but which leave us emptier then before that tree began to twinkle.


the radio plays songs of silver bells and families gathering and if i can't be home for christmas, i'll be there in my dreams, but tonight? tonight, i was home.  and i was surrounded by a ragamuffin group of kids who are just as broken, if not more, and when our DNA is drenched through with the Blood of the Lamb, it doesn't matter the differences in our skin tone - we are family.

and we love.

and we tease.

and we laugh.

and we cry.

and we stand at the door to wave everyone away because no one wants to see a time with loved ones end...

my belly tightens with each contraction.

i don't know what day she'll come...


but He uses what has been knit and formed in the dark of impossible situations, in the dark of humanity, and He causes life to be born.


i'm seeing this a bit clearer these days, in the quiet and the noise.

or maybe, more accurately, it's Jesus i'm seeing a bit clearer in the mess of it all...

in the last days...

i had wanted to document these days better. they are the last ones and i don't want to forget...

i don't want to forget how different this act of carrying has been,

how much more emotional and pain-full and how so very aware i have become of each movement, each flutter...

the heaviness that has begun.


and lyla, the first one i carried through the dark of advent days, she stands in front of me in the late of this evening and asks me to come and sit with her before she sleeps.


i lay my head on the pillow next to hers and we talk.

about nothing and about everything and i remember, and maybe it's because my dark is filled again with the movements of a sweet baby girl, but i remember so strongly that first christmas where i began to understand
the agony of waiting...

 the beauty of waiting...

the desperate wanting for the waiting to end...


she says it with a wonder in her eyes,  this will be my sixth christmas! and as it sinks in, she fingers the edging on the sweater i'm wearing.

mama, why are you wearing this sweater?

~ because i was cold, baby girl.

where did you get your sweater?

~ it was a christmas gift from your daddy...3 years ago now.

i was three, wasn't i?


and it all comes flooding back, that christmas morning where we all sat together - before everything shattered and he was still here...


and this sweater i pulled from my closet in the chill of this morning, it comes from a time when so much was still whole.


and his son, the one who has captured my heart so completely, he pulls me close in the quiet of this evening and we don't have to say anything...he just sits and he holds me as he listens to the song i can't seem to let go of....


and maybe that is why i've been holding on so tightly to the tradition of advent this season, why as it comes closer to the coming of my own baby girl, i so desperately look to the fulfillment of His.

because He came. entered into our messy and the mixed up and the this-isn't-how-it-was-supposed-to turn-out world.  He wrapped Himself up in the womb of a woman and put on this skin that kept Him bound and tied to us...

and there is so much beauty wrapped around the ache...

He came. and even if everyone and everything else all falls apart and walks away...He is here. here and so very present with us.


this is my thirty-third christmas, my fourth little one nestled in my deep...this life of mine that has been planned out before i even existed, His Hand has been on me throughout all of my days.

yes, He is here.


and there is so much joy wrapped around all that i've been given and all that's been taken away...

and tonight, i can rest in that.