Author: Walden World

Finding Light in Everyday Moments

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She teaches me daily. Since day 1, she has been our sunshine-seeker. She has always quietly embraced transition with an ease I sometimes envy. And she loves wholeheartedly. I remember one blustery winter morning in VT. These were the kinds of mornings when all you really wanted was a day in bed. You woke up with frigid fingers and toes, even beneath a bundle of blankets, and the responsibilities of the day squashed any attempt to burrow. I was barely waking up to this sensation when her tiny frame wandered into my bedroom.

“I can’t find it, mama”, this little voice beckoned to my sleepily. There was an urgency in her tone despite the drowsy hour. After a series of questions and–eventually–my departure from the pursuit of warmth, I realized that she was searching for the sun. It was a cold day in every sense of the word, and the sunshine—her favorite friend—was hiding behind snow clouds. She was devastated. Little fingers fumbled over my curtains as she desperately tried to roll them higher because “maybe he’s just hiding”. But he did not [and would not] emerge for quite some time. Her faith that the sunshine would appear still, never waned.

This is how she has always been. She’s my encourager when she senses spirits are low, a peacemaker when there is familial tension, and a hugger when the need arises(and sometimes even when the need isn’t fully realized to everyone else).

In her bitty years, this looked like sun-searching and big, wet kisses. And now in this season, it’s deeper. She gives everything in everything–the way she loves, friendship, a task, habits…everything. Sometimes this means that something with which she’s become so familiar(like sucking her thumb) is harder to break. But even then, her optimism doesn’t fade. She’s bright, cheerful and fighting to believe the best.

Recently, I’ve seen glimmers of spiritual depth. She has always been my caring, compassionate one. Often quick to step in with a hopeful solution or comment, she believes wholeheartedly. And I’m thankful I get to watch that develop as she grows. I can mark this by several new data points:

A few months ago, we attended the funeral of a precious friend. This was her first, and she wondered aloud what was to be expected and what behavior might be appropriate. We talked at length, and when we were finally there, I was blown away. In the flurry of my own responsibilities, seeking to interact with others, cleaning when needed, leading singing, etc, I hadn’t heard how the day was going for my children. Later, I was approached by the daughter of our recently deceased friend who shared that speaking with our daughter was a needed balm; a highlight of the day. When I shared the story at home, she remarked that she “just walked around talking to people”.

“I went up to folks and said, ‘hi’. My name is _____. What’s yours?”

A few nights ago, I took two of my daughters to the theatre. We learned that the main character was struggling vocally, and so we prayed. Afterward, when he was standing alone as other cast members were shining with excitement, my sunshine-seeker walked up to him alongside a friend and made a point to tell him, “you did a great job”.

And finally, today. You somehow learned that we have new neighbors with a little girl about your age, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when she rang our doorbell asking for you. All afternoon you played only to wander back inside a after a little while. You were–again–searching. When I inquired, you mentioned a Bible, because “I want to tell her the Easter story”.

My darling girl, your courage to look for the light has always taken my breath away. It is foreign to me—your relentless tenacity towards hope. I pray that the Father uses this to protect and preserve you, no matter what the season. You shine so brightly, and I cannot wait to watch how God continues to work.

When I Am Afraid: Lessons from my Daughter [Psalm 56]

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“Mama, I had another bad dream. But I didn’t want to wake you because I know how hard you work and how badly you need sleep”

This was a recent comment from one of my daughters after another hard night. I have always encouraged all of my children to come—whenever—to my bedside. But this daughter–often the one who doesn’t want to inconvenience or burden others–did not come. At first, I felt sad. I wanted her to know that no time was an inconvenience. But when she mentioned that she had prayed and fallen asleep[probably nestled underneath one of her favorite books]I knew she was OK. Two things occurred to me in that moment:

  1. I’m thankful she didn’t come to me first.
  2. Trust is a discipline.

In our world today, fear is on trend. Especially in the midst of an election season and an ever-shifting culture, one has reason to feel unsteady. There are wars and rumors of wars, floods, riots, death…Not to mention the regularly unwholesome discourse I’ve seen on social media. The world is fragile, broken and deteriorating right before our eyes. Of course there is cause for fear!

In Psalm 56:1 David cries out, Be gracious to me, O God, for man tramples on me; all day long an attacker oppresses me; my enemies trample on me all day long, for many attack me proudly.

At first glance, this sounds hopeless. David, the anointed king of Israel is on the run from a man who desires his death. He has fled to a Philistine king in hopes of finding refuge, but quickly realizes that this king knows his true identity. His only defense at this point is to fake madness, “making marks on the door and letting saliva run down his beard” 1 Samuel 21:15)

And the Philistines–usually described as an aggressive, war-mongering people–were evil. So when David speaks of being attacked and trampled by many enemies, he wasn’t exaggerating!

But the text doesn’t stop there. God, in his kindness, has given us more:

When I am afraid,I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?

Psalm 56:2

Immediately, there is a transition. It is as if David knows he could spiral[to use popular verbiage] so he must discipline his mind[and therefore, speech].

John MacArthur says it this way,

This psalm expresses the kind of confidence in the Lord that believers should exude when they find themselves in terrifying circumstances. David’s natural reaction was to panic(vv. 3, 4, 11). But he demonstrates in this psalm that the believer can replace potential terror with the composure of trust.

MacArthur Bible Commentary

But in verses 5-7, it’s as if David returns to the panic.

All day long they injure my cause; all their thoughts are against me for evil. They stir up strife, they lurk; they watch my steps as they have waited for my life. For their crime, will they escape? In wrath, cast down the peoples O God!

What is he saying here? He has gone from reciting truth to reflecting on his terrors; on his enemies! And what fruit has this reflection produced? Anxiety. Worry. A desire for vengeance.

In short: nothing good.

Are you tired yet? Just reading David’s struggle[quite literally] for sanity leaves me feeling weary.

Haven’t we all been here before? Haven’t we wrestled with our thoughts, circumstances and feelings until we’re absolutely listless. Until we are weary and ragged and not even sleep restores?

David doesn’t stay here, though. He recounts God’s specific goodness– that He has kept count of his tossings and tears. He remembers he isn’t isolated.

David then moves into a posture of remembering truth, and cultivating praise and thanksgiving. Herein lies this discipline of trust(vv. 10-13)–

In God, whose word I praise, in the Lord, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can man do to me? I must perform my vows to you, O God; I will render thank offerings to you. For you have delivered my soul from death, yes my feet from falling, that I may walk before God in the light of my life.

I’m encouraged that David faced terror, too. He knew danger. He wrestled often with the threat of hunger, attacks, betrayal, mutilation, abuse, etc…sometimes to the point of death. In some seasons, David could have been tempted to live in fear. David was human, too. And there were times when he doubted the very nature of the God to whom his heart was knit.

But the Lord gave David three mercies in the midst of this suffering:

  1. His presence
  2. courage to carry on
  3. A malleable, yet disciplined heart

Number 1 is obvious, isn’t it? David is groaning before the Lord. Right at the beginning, David approaches God with questions and complaints. He has raw honesty. He is crippled with anxiety.

And David does not wallow. He recalls truth:

  • The Lord knows my suffering(v. 8)
  • The Lord will have vengeance(v. 9)
  • The Lord is for me(v. 9b)
  • I have been delivered from eternal death(v. 13)

What’s the common thread? THE LORD.

David shifts his focus. And this shift produces heart change:

  • praise(v.10)
  • trust(v.11)
  • courage (v.11)
  • thankfulness(v. 12)

Yes, I have felt fear so intense that it threatens to consume my being. But the glorious truth about scripture is it’s sufficiency. We can always go to God and to His word knowing that we will find truth and hope. And scripture so rightly informs our minds that we are not left disparaging.

So even though I was initially saddened by my daughter’s hesitance, I’m thankful she went to the Father. I’m grateful she certainly has come to me on other occasions. But the sobering truth is I won’t always be around. My prayer is that the Eternal God would be the refuge(Deut. 33:27) to which she does run.

And I pray that she trusts God and his word so desperately that she knows how to respond when the harder days come.

God’s Faithfulness in Marriage: 12 Years of Electing Love

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A few Sundays ago, we celebrated 12 years of marriage. 13 years together, but 12 of sharing life–homes, cars, jobs, children. My husband very eloquently surmised this as a milestone because, “We completed 12 years of grade school, so it’s like we’re graduating”. 🙂 How romantic!

In many ways, it was just another ordinary day. It was Sunday–the busiest for our family. Full of meetings, singing, interactions with the community God has provided here in Maine. On this day, like every other Sunday, we were awakened early by the sound of our littlest. This is a hallmark of the day for us both. Like always, everyone ended up in our queen-sized bed(which seems to be shrinking!) and I eventually slipped out to begin the day’s routine. Coffee(or tea, if you’re me), breakfast, and hurried preparation for Sunday worship. In the midst of the morning’s rush our eldest sneaked into the kitchen and whispered, Happy Anniversary, Mama. You know, my favorite part of August is watching your video. Tearfully, I hugged this one who has recently become one of our most sentimental children and tried to recall when we started what has become tradition.

It must have started back in our first year–before anyone else came along. My own Mama, knowing how bittersweet moving away from my beloved Southern roots had been, sent a big box of green peanuts. All the way from Georgia! This was(for those who may not know) for the purpose of creating one of our favorite snacks–boiled peanuts. I remember sitting back on our porch in San Diego waiting as the smell of salty water sifted through our first[tiny] real home. When they were finally finished, we relished the treat while while watching our wedding footage. It was a sweet memory for us, and is somehow now a tradition embroidered in the fabric of our family. We must have had several pounds this year, but the peanuts were gone within just a few days!

As I reflected on the day–complete with a celebratory meal, homemade cards from the kids and(of course) our special viewing party–I would not have changed anything. If you would have told me 12 years ago that we’d be here–far up in the Northeast(having survived almost 10 years of NE winters!) with four precious children[and a dog]in tow, multiple moves and jobs behind us, I may not have believed it. The sweetest part(besides the gift of the little tribe of souls we’ve been given) for me has been the growth. I realized Sunday–as I was called out of a service to change our youngest–where my husband was preaching as the pastor of our church[this was a particular highlight of the day!]– I never would have dreamed we’d be here. Not even just our geographic “here”, but all of it.

In our anniversary card, Tyler wrote the passage he has prayed over our marriage from the beginning–

 I will give them one heart and one way, that they may fear me forever, for their own good and the good of their children after them. 40 I will make with them an everlasting covenant, that I will not turn away from doing good to them. And I will put the fear of me in their hearts, that they may not turn from me. 41 I will rejoice in doing them good, and I will plant them in this land in faithfulness, with all my heart and all my soul. Jeremiah 32:39-41

It is by God’s faithfulness that this is our here. That passage in particular is speaking of God’s chosen people facing an impending judgment through exile. This was because of their own foolishness in pursuit of something that would never satisfy. They were overthrown by outside forces and obstinate; refusing the Lord’s laws and commands(which were for their very good). But the Lord promises restoration. Even amidst the pronouncement of a sure and coming judgment, the Lord repeatedly promises mercy. He assures the people through this very vulnerable prophet [Jeremiah] that peace will come.

As I considered this, I was struck by the many times we’ve failed–in marriage, life choices, parenting, etc. But God is always faithful. In His kindness, He has carefully and tenderly preserved our lives over these last 12 years. And we have nothing on which to stand except His very character. It has not been through any merit of our own, or even any of our most meager efforts. It is all by the sovereign hand of His might and will. This is exactly what the passage speaks of–the Israelites were not chosen because any good existed within them. In fact, it was the exact opposite. They had rebelled wickedly and decidedly. But they were chosen. And God–in His divine affection-promised to: focus their hearts to fear Him, produce a harvest of righteousness for generations, to love them covenantally, and to continue doing them good[forever], that they would be rooted in faithfulness.

I had always read that as–the Lord will make his people faithful. And I don’t think that is entirely wrong. But there was a little whisper of human merit in that belief. It now seems to me that it is only always the faithfulness of God in which we are rooted. He continually pursues, provides and protects–keeping us ever in step with His Spirit(Deut. 31:8, Psalm 145:20).

And so, as we sat there rejoicing over the last 12 years, I couldn’t feel anything but weepy. Because I fail miserably more often than not. I am impatient, selfish and grumpy[particularly in the evenings]. I am a melancholy, overly-sensitive and critical jerk sometimes, but the God of the Universe chose me. I couldn’t tell you why, honestly.Except for the merciful doctrine of election. And as we stumble along together for many, many, many[I pray!] more decades together I am grateful to cling[however feebly] to his “mighty and outstretched arm” (Deut. 26:8).

Soli Deo Gloria

God from the beginning chose His people; when the unnavigated ether was yet unfanned by the wing of a single angel, when space was shoreless, or else unborn, when universal silence reigned, and not a voice or whisper shocked the solemnity of silence, when there was no being, and no motion, no time, and naught but God Himself, alone in His eternity. Charles Spurgeon

What They Really Need

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There’s a popular reel floating around on the internet with the caption , To you it’s just another ordinary day, but to them it’s their whole childhood.

At first glance, I agreed. After all, shouldn’t we seek to fill these moments with vibrant, creative splashes in an attempt to transform our everyday ordinary into extraordinary. The particular video I watched featured a perfectly polished mama making muffins with her tiny daughter(who somehow emerged from the kitchen unscathed!). I saw another one boasting the same sentiment featuring a little boy enamored by a new sensory bin carefully curated by his parents. The scenarios were enchanting, and [if I’m honest] a bit intimidating[read: guilt-inducing].Immediately I mentally inventoried all of our educational items and started to plan my own sensory experiences for the kids and our magical days. This wasn’t a bad thing. I’m not degrading the heart behind the message. It seems–at least to me– that these mamas are encouraging us all to stop and consider the brevity of each day with our precious ones. And it is true:what seems like a day full of chores and neverending parenting to us is their childhood. And of course I want my children to reflect on these formative years and remember the good. BUT a familiar call echoed in my mind as I considered this. In the midst of my pressing urgency to create a counterfeit magic for the kids, I remembered what was most impactful in my own foundational years. It wasn’t a perfect experience or day. It was all of the moments in between–hearing my mama’s voice permeate the house in her very ordinary task of washing dishes. Walking in to the inviting aroma of my dad’s food steaming from the kitchen after a draining rehearsal. Reluctantly accepting my mama’s embrace in the confusion of my teenage years because , “physical touch is important”. Watching through the window as my dad–weary from a long day’s work–whistled to the tune of the lawn mower. Drifting drowsily asleep to the sound of my parents sharing another silly story–laughing together in the living room after what must have been another full ministry day. I can vividly remember these moments, for these were the ones that filled our days. And I’m sure that there were magical moments, too. In fact, I know there were(this is why we make those photo albums, right?!)! But my most treasured times were the ones when life was just happening for all of us. It wasn’t always picturesque(and let’s be honest–social media isn’t an authentic portrayal of life anyway), and it wasn’t always comfortable. There were probably days when the call to shepherd my little soul seemed a challenge insurmountable. I probably did help my mama in the kitchen, and I guarantee I caused more chaos than calm(because baking with littles is MESSY)! And I’m sure that both of my parents strived to curate beautiful experiences to incite wonder and cultivate curiosity, but the most meaningful moments existed when I got to observe obedience in the lives of my parents.

They weren’t living to give me the perfect childhood. Instead, they were seeking to live for the glory of God. Loving me was a part of that, certainly. But it was only part of the whole.

redeemingmundane

I was not the center of their world then just as my children do not consume mine now. At the heartbeat of everything they did was the glory of Christ. This steadfast mindset pervaded our home and punctuated every thought. That ensured that even our most discouraging days were not without hope. If we bickered, there was reconciliation. If we faced hardship, there was a call to endure. If we failed(each other or in life) there was still peace.Even in our messiest moments, my parents could rest in light of God’s Gospel promises(and they were careful to instruct us in those promises, too). They would admit that it was imperfect(and no one can boast otherwise), but to me it was a stunning testament to God’s mercy and grace.

My children don’t need a tidy home, a perfect day adventuring or even a special shared experience with me as much as they need to be pointed to the Faithful God who created them. Of course, there is nothing wrong with enjoying fun-filled days or basking in the flow of a peaceful, engaging day. But let us not forget that in our hard, ugly moments(when your family’s rhythm is just off and the days feel long)–our Father remains the same.The beauty is there, too. He is just as pleased with us in the mundane moments as He is in our ambition to enliven other days. It is not because of us, but rather because of who He is(2 Tim. 2:13, Numbers 23:19,etc)

I’m so thankful for parents who modeled that in my beginnings(and still do now). It is good and right that we live every day to the glory of God(and sometimes that might mean your sensory boxes are ON POINT)! But on the other days, when you wrestle with feeling insufficient, rest in the freedom of living to this chief end:

We do not segment our lives, giving some time to God, some to our business or schooling, while keeping parts to ourselves. The idea is to live all of our lives in the presence of God, under the authority of God, and for the honor and glory of God. That is what the Christian life is all about.” – RC Sproul

“I am not what I ought to be, I am not what I want to be, I am not what I hope to be in another world; but still I am not what I once used to be, and by the grace of God I am what I am”
― John Newton

8 He will also keep you firm to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. 9 God is faithful, who has called you into fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. - 1 Corinthians 1:8-9

They Went to the Beach.

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Back in October, my extended family left for our annual family vacation. This is a trip in which I have not participated for the last 8ish years, and somehow–that week–not being there felt different. In some ways I felt the same familiar ache of living so far away, but in others there was a decided resolve in it. A resolve that [despite my deepest heart yearnings to be with those who loved me first] I would not wallow, but would instead choose to be present.

I realize that this may sound trite or over-popularized. One night during that week, I was invited into several different scenarios and thus felt torn in many directions. But there was[for reasons I can’t explain] an echo of that same longing I knew too well and had battled continually. I wanted nearness. I wanted familial intimacy. I wanted to remember the warmth of being known and loved, no matter what. I desperately wanted to be in multiple places, but I knew that they needed me. They being my precious ones. Daddy was out of town, and I sensed this rare opportunity to just be with them.

Also during that beach week—while my family was far away, I felt the pressure of being home–the constant need to be doing dishes, laundry, cooking meals…not to mention investing emotionally, spiritually and physically in the lives of my little tribe[including nurturing littles who need thoughtful, biblical redirection hourly…sometimes moment-by-moment!]…Some days I do feel weary…and often over-stimulated to a sinful point. But I set apart this day–amidst my own personal weariness–to cherish them.

So we went to the movies. Since there are 6 members of our family, this is a rare occurrence. At home in our daily mundane, I saw my own familiar ache in their little eyes and heard it in countless moments of frustration. Getting out of the house just made sense. So we did it. We journeyed over an hour’s length to see a special movie unavailable in our area, and enjoyed popcorn and candy while lounging in reclining movie seats[a luxury in and of itself]. It was loud and a little chaotic, but joyfully so. My littlest bounced up and down in the seat and eventually landed in my arms, my son grinned from ear to ear providing colorful commentary(which worked better since few others were seated among us) and my big girls beamed. Afterwards we indulged in Chik-fil-a[a personal favorite, though not all of my babes share my enthusiasm].

There was something sacred in it, I think. Not in the movie or the fried chicken. But in the prompt to seize the hours. Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t concern myself with chores or the daily to-do list. I didn’t worry about what wasn’t accomplished or our present messiness.  I just enjoyed them. We just enjoyed each other, in fact.

This was a needed reminder to me of Zephaniah’s words in chapter 3:

The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.

Zephaniah 3:17

Although these words were written to the people of Judah, the beauty of the Word is it’s accuracy, relevance and reliability. The Lord’s authoritative voice is just as true and definitive as it was then.

In the busyness of motherhood, I often forget to delight. But the Lord–in His holy perfection–does not. Somehow He simultaneously upholds and rules while also harboring an intimate knowledge of his beloved. And so–in the same vein that He is both concerned and connected with all of my needs, longings and shortcoming–He is also just enjoying me. What’s more, he is singing[some versions add loudly] over me!

These precious ones are growing so quickly. And this day back in October was ordinary–like most of my days–but the Lord used those mundane moments to bring me[yet again] to recall His goodness and the personal call to reflect upon the sweetness in watching how He redeems ordinary.

If I Had Stayed[Lessons from Vermont]

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A little over three years ago, our family moved from Rhode Island to Central Vermont. A job had opened up there for my husband, and we were thrilled at the opportunity he’d have to finish graduate school while also working full-time. Yes, it would be challenging. Yes, the days may be long. But it was the right move for us. The only problem is that we had to move in the span of 3 months. This meant tying up loose-ends where we were[with holidays thrown in amidst that] and then driving to a bitterly cold Vermont right in the beginning of the new year. I’m not sure I was prepared for exactly how cold it would be. I figured my frail Southern form had adjusted to the snow in Rhode Island, so this transition wouldn’t be hard at all…right?

But then the first snow fell. And it kept falling. For an entire day. And there was mud all over the floors of my new house. Plus it was an icy tundra!And the movers hit our mailbox because of the ice. It was dark and the snow stayed for…months. As a mama of two children under the age of 4, I was shocked and also felt taken hostage. We were stuck inside indefinitely(or at least, it felt that way)!

How would they expend energy everyday? How would my introverted heart find time to be alone when my husband was in quite possibly the busiest season of his life?!

I remember joking with a friend before our transition that I felt burned out socially and could cope for our season in VT without deep relationships. That would be 3 years. In hindsight, that’s a long time. But then friendship seemed like too much of an investment. We would simply survive and focus on family time.

Before we moved, my husband and I had the opportunity to connect with a local pastor and his wife. We figured we would seek to be faithful church members, but we wouldn’t have much bandwidth to have many deep friendships. Or at least, I didn’t. Plus, I was somewhat embittered by the cold. This was such a rural, frigid place. It seemed unlike anywhere I had ever been.A far cry from my very favorite residence–Southern California! I wondered why we had come in the first place. And if you had asked me, I probably would’ve told you that I hated it.

I actually remember thinking, “I wish we had stayed”.

redeemingmundance.com

For the course of those first few months, I remember feeling lonelier than I had ever been. We’d had deep friendships in Rhode Island, a church we loved and a house that seemed idyllic. But here we were, in dark, cold, icy Vermont.

And so, on that first Sunday when we made the half-hour drive to what would become our home-church—the “light in the valley” as it is so aptly named— I was grouchy. We walked in, and I tearfully recounted how I didn’t know anyone and we were out in the middle of nowhere. With snow-covered mountains and mud everwhere. These people had been here for years—most of them their entire lives. And I was this random outsider who clearly didn’t look at all like anyone else.

It felt hopeless.

I should stop here and say that I started this blog months ago. Even now as I am writing this, I feel differently. Where I once wrote that I’m not sure what changed I can now admit that I know exactly what changed. And it wasn’t me. I had resolved–or rather, the Lord reminded me– that the only way I might survive this wintry season of heart and weather was to press in. He is so kind to deal graciously with us in the midst of our stubborn sinfulness.

In my sinful stupor, the Lord reminded me to press in by His very example to join our uncomfortable, foreign, messy and cold world.

Redeeming the Mundane

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
6 Who, being in very nature[a] God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
7 rather, he made himself nothing
    by taking the very nature[b] of a servant,
    being made in human likeness.
8 And being found in appearance as a man,
    he humbled himself
    by becoming obedient to death—
        even death on a cross!

Philippians 2:6-8

The following week, still cold-but humbled–I was carting my 4 and 1 year-olds to a mommy’s group. And then to a small group with their dad. Over the course of the next few months, we began to learn their lives, we shared meals together, wept together, prayed together, laughed and sang together…

Before I knew it, three years had passed. This girl who had once said she never imagined staying in such a rural place ended up finding joy in the middle of such a challenging transition. We added two more littles to the gang. We planted gardens, hiked rivers, watched Daddy catching fish, explored markets—carefully saving trinkets and savoring local faire. We found a little bit of sweetness in every simple day. We endured the present contentedly and [by God’s goodness] learned to love where we had been transplanted.

We learned afresh to cherish [and prioritize] the local body of believers–the Church. And we humbly watched as these beloved friends regularly ministered to our little clan—whether it was through time together, time in God’s Word, sharing a meal[or a creemee on a breezy summer afternoon], or all of the little in-between oddities that make up living.

When faced with the opportunity to move elsewhere, we knew it was God’s will, but our hearts were saddened to think of leaving. This is never something I imagined admitting. And on our last day to worship alongside these precious saints, I looked on tearfully as we shared one final meal, prayed corporately and watched our children play–blissfully unaware of the impending change.

Standing in my new house all those years ago watching my daughters scale the packing paper mound, I never could’ve guessed how God would provide. But that’s the way it always goes, isn’t it?

Redeeming the Mundane

20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Ephesians 3:20-21

I could recall countless stories of how God faithfully provided during our time there(neighbors who became some of our dearest friends, a homeschool community and afterward play dates where deep friendships were nurtured, shared holidays, snow days with friends.etc…). But for the sake of time and brevity, I’ll just say…

There is so much profound joy that I would not have known if I had stayed in Rhode Island…

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The End of All Things

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Recently, I was asked if we plan to homeschool long-term. A dear friend was wondering if I had considered the future and what home education might look like in the middle-teenage years.

My honest answer was that I don’t know. I prayerfully reassess every year, based on each individual child, the needs of our family, time, schedules, my emotional capacity, etc. And so every year I move remembering the Lord’s “precious and very great promises”(2 Peter 1:3) to me in His word, and soldier on—whatever the choice may be. And every year, we laugh, cry, and grow—in every way.

My personality makes no allowances(in my flesh) for risks. I do not like them; I would rather know the outcome. So choosing to educate my children has always been in faith. And God, in His mercy, brings fruit(1 Corinthians 3:6-8).

I am certainly no homeschool only advocate. I have learned[through my own errors] that projecting your convictions on others can be detrimental relationally. But I am an advocate for living out biblical conviction, and I recognize that it manifests differently based on circumstances/seasons/family ideals/location/etc. I could count the ways I’ve been enriched through our journey, but I think that says less about our personal choice and speaks more to the faithfulness of a Sovereign God(Col. 1)

Over the last year, in our journey with one of the children, I had become discouraged regarding progress. I wondered(as I often do) if this child was excelling or “on track”. This stems from my toxic trait of falling into a comparison “trap” with others.

But this morning, over family devotions at the breakfast table, I was reminded of the end of all things. We had just read aloud the words of David in Psalm 37, and my instructions were to pick a verse that stood out. I laughed internally thinking no one heard or understood a word I said. But then that same child for whom I have labored in prayer and concern to the Lord, jolted out of her seat and began pacing around the room, clearly mid-hunt. I waited and watched, then inquired gently,

How can I help?

Paper. Was all I heard. I need paper.

I gathered the materials she needed[pens, and scissors, too] and observed.

Of course her paper was shielded as she tuned out the chaos of morning breakfast and wrote with fierce concentration.

When she finished moments later, I gazed upon her work.

It was a slip of paper, cut out with the words:


I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken

It wasn’t textbook “perfect”. But in the midst of a very loud, distracting moment, these words enlightened her heart. She wanted to hang them up so we could memorize them over the week and look at them every day.

I couldn’t help but consider Peter’s words:

“The end of all things is near; therefore, be of sound judgment and sober spirit for the purpose of prayer. Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaint. As each one has received a special gift, employ it in serving one another as good stewards of the multifaceted grace of God. Whoever speaks is to do so as one who is speaking actual words of God; whoever serves is to do so as one who is serving by the strength which God supplies; so that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom belongs the glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.”
‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭4‬:‭7‬-‭11‬ ‭NASB2020‬‬

My prayer for all of my children is that they might grow in the love and knowledge of the Lord. That they might serve wholeheartedly, living in light of the Gospel of grace.

Because the end of all things is not academic excellence[though I know that is important in its context and should not be ignored].

The end of all things is knowing Christ.

Peter wrote these words at the end of a life marked by steadfast[though imperfect] service to the Father. He had known betrayal(of his own accord and by the disloyalty of others), physical and emotional suffering, and imprisonment. He knew his end was near. And appropriately, some of his final words to the dear believers in exile included a charge to endure to the end. A

And admittedly—beneath all of my anxieties and fearful wonderings—that is my prayer. I desperately desire that my girl—and all of my little ones—will endure faithfully in the end and to the end[when God-willing, they will run into the arms of the One for whom they’ve struggled tearfully and faithfully all along].

I routinely doubt myself-as a wife, mama, educator, counselor, etc. This is particularly felt in the realm of home education. Most days I feel very ill-equipped. And I do wonder if what we’ve chosen in faith is right or best.

But that’s just it, isn’t it?

Whatever we choose, we do it in faith. We do it trusting the perfect provision of our Lord(Phil. 4:19), remembering those precious treasures in scripture we’ve clung tightly to for so long. We do it because the Unchanging, mighty God holds us fast. We do it because we know that at the end of all things to live faithfully for the glory of God and by His grace is our best expression of worship. He has given us His very son, and so at the very least, we must surrender every mundane moment. We can choose to see Him in it in gratitude and in worship.

Featured

Safety

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I am the one who very rarely finishes a thought in one breath. I am chronically late, disorganized, and directionally challenged(you could ask my eldest). I can be impatient, stubborn and sometimes terribly grumpy when my expectations aren’t met. For these reasons and many more, I would tell you that I am a most imperfect mother.

But our tiny ones don’t see those things, do they? Or—if they do— they’re easily forgotten in an instant. These precious treasures we’ve been given are[more often than not] typically the biggest grace-givers of us all.

The latest [and greatest, in their regard] game to our littles is Tag. I’m sure you know it; someone is named the Tag-ger who runs around wildly trying to capture the other players(who then, in turn, must somehow find their way to base—usually someone or some place named by the group). Our girls have taken to plowing passionately into one[or both] of my legs yelling, “Mama is the safe place”! Admittedly, I laughed when I heard it.

I must have been relieved to know that–in spite of my many failings–they trust me. They’re secure in my embrace. Yes, I’m their “Mama”. And yes, I do pray that they always feel such safety; that they know my unconditional love.

But what do I want more than anything else? What do I pray they believe down to their bones? The unwavering, unending, sacrificial love of Christ. It is this love that calls(Ephesians 1:4-5, Jer. 31:3), calms(Psalm 131:2), sets apart(Psalm 89:31-34) and sends out(Eph. 5:1-2)–peaceably and purposefully that we might magnify His goodness. I want them to be compelled by this love on dreary days(2 Corinthians 5:14) and to be captivated by it in seasons seasons lacking fervor. I want them to remember that–because of the very faithfulness of God in Christ–they are always[no matter what] held and pursued(Isaiah 54:10).

As I thoughtfully considered their words on the playground, I was reminded of my own need to recall my safety in this love. I may not be the ideal mama in my own mind, but I pray that even in that my precious ones see the grace and goodness of God.

Marvelous it is, that One so infinitely above us, so inconceivably glorious, so ineffably holy, should not only notice such worms of the earth, but also set His heart upon them, give His Son for them, send His Spirit to indwell them, and so bear with all their imperfections and waywardness as never to remove His loving-kindness from them

Arthur Pink

10 YEARS

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10 years ago, I was preparing to marry a Naval Officer. We graduated college, he commissioned and we planned a wedding for mid-August with a cross-country move to the West Coast shortly afterward. The Navy kept us apart that summer, but I remember how much sweeter the day was because of it. When we were reunited, it was busy and [a little] chaotic, but mostly just humbling. We saw precious family members and treasured friends come together to celebrate what God had done. Everyone squeezed into the beautiful church where so many other foundational moments in my life occurred to pray over us and watch as our lives became one.

I remember the hurried joy of the time. Rising at dawn because I just couldn’t sleep any longer. The quiet calm of watching the hairdresser sweep my hair up into the prettiest bun with my big sister alongside. Getting ready with my favorite friends. Reading a note from my future husband. Giggling as we all primped and posed for a never-ending-list of pictures. Tearfully watching and waiting as people I loved trickled into the sanctuary to hand-picked accompaniment. Praying one last time with just Mom and Dad. And, finally…walking towards my very best friend as most of us held back tears. We ended the day the way it began—with people. We danced heartily, ate contentedly and laughed. It was wonderfully loud and crazy. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Today, I awoke in the early hours to the sound of our 8 month old daughter. We quietly padded into the kitchen bypassing her two older sisters sat sleepily on the couch, their brother sleeping soundly in a rare morning of calm.

We have moved 4 times. Owned 4 different cars. Worked many different jobs. And made many wonderful friends. Most importantly we have 4 precious children. The Naval Officer I married is now a pastor. And I—once a student of the Theatre am now pursuing Biblical Counseling as a stay-at-home mom. He has the privilege to work his dream job. And I have the privilege of educating our kiddos(one of MY dreams). We live somewhere we never could’ve imagined. And we wouldn’t have it any other way. The Lord has surely blessed us abundantly more than we could have asked or imagined (because we really never COULD have imagined all of this).

I loved our wedding day. But even though it was one of the greatest of my life, I wouldn’t go back. Where we are now is too sweet, and the Lord has been too good for me to even wish I could re-live it. Even though I enjoy reminiscing, how much better it is to recall God’s goodness and grace in our lives! And share it with our precious ones.

So today we will have another wonderfully loud and crazy day. But not because we’re at the biggest party ever with our closest friends and family. Because we’re with our own little God-given tribe. Tyler will go to work while we play at home. Tonight we will enjoy boiled peanuts(a tradition) while watching the wedding with those same little ones. It’s nothing extravagant, but it is the life God has provided and I am nothing short of grateful.

All glory be to God for 10 years with you, my greatest blessing from the Lord(besides Jesus)!

“Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord! Let the earth hear his voice! Praise the Lord, praise the Lord! Let the people rejoice! O, come to the Father through Jesus the Son and give him the glory—great things He hath done!”

| S E R V A N T |

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I haven’t said much about our time in Maine here because these last two weeks have been busy! Our days are filled with unpacking, picnic playdates at the park, exploring our neighborhood, etc. Of course my sweet littles are processing still—which sometimes looks like bickering, outbursts of tears, silly moods, needing more “mommy time” or anything in between. We have tried to shepherd their hearts tenderly(with the help of so many precious new friends and MUCH prayer) but some days I’m tired!

This last week a new friend recommended “couch time” every morning. It’s where we sing, read(about cultures, poets, authors), recite and learn. It is simply a time to sit together in stillness and absorb before we dive into the chaos of the day.

This past week we’ve discussed Philippians 2 and the idea of serving like Jesus. We’ve made a game of yelling, “servant alert” every time we see(which delights our littles to no end)!

Today—when my middle girl and I had to miss corporate worship because our sweet boy has a cold, we were disappointed. I was here at the house with three under 4 who sorrowfully watched their big sis walk to the church(which is right across our backyard) with tearful eyes.

Throughout the morning I took the opportunity to catch up on housework. It’s sometimes easier for me to busy myself if I’m feeling particularly down. I tried hard to keep things lighthearted in the midst of missing fellowship. But my middle must’ve known, because she stayed in her room boasting of “surprises” and “don’t come in, Mommy”! I figured maybe she was creating a new look with her dress-up clothes ☺️

But…

as she led me to her room—eyes bright and shimmering— I couldn’t believe what I saw. We stood there together as she whispered, “I cleaned it, Mama”.
And no, it’s not perfect. But it’s her best. As I verbally took in every detail, she beamed.

Mamas, the Lord knows our hearts. He knows our deepest needs and desires. In the weary moments when I’m wondering if any effort I make will bear fruit, the Lord graciously bears me up with the promise that nothing done in His name is in vain.

1 Thessalonians 15:58