the battle with myself

It is true, everyone is fighting a hard battle.

The problem is, I think I often pick a fight with the wrong crowd.

I'm run-down, striving, irritable, and need someone to blame.  In all honesty, many times I choose to battle in my marriage.  Sometimes my kids.  Even sometimes my friends.  But most often, I battle myself.

The self talk.  I dwell on something that, in my mind, went wrong, or is inherently wrong with me.  And my mind spins and ruminates and dwells on how I must be a horrible friend.  I'm not a "good enough" Christian.  I'm lazy as a wife.  I don't have what it takes to raise these boys.  Whatever it may be.  My mind telling me to strive more.  Work more.  Be more.  Because what you are isn't enough.

When it comes down to it, that is the lie I believe far too often.  Day in and day out, it is far too often an attempt to "be enough" on my own.  Or at least an attempt to take steps toward whatever "enough" is in my mind.  

I rely on my own works.

But works doesn't save.  And I am not my own enemy.  

I'll say it again, I am not my own enemy.

Why, oh, why do I so often live believing I must be a failure.  I make idols of productivity.  Even of service.  Of being a great friend.  Of hospitality.  Those things become far too important to me.  And I'm never good enough in my own standards... so I strive and I strive.

If you remember, our battle is not against flesh and blood, but between what is unseen... between evil and the heavenly.  And my only battle is to choose Christ.  Truth.  Life.  Redemption.  Day after day.  

I need to choose truth for my mind, so I can speak it to my kids and my husband and bring life.  I need to choose life for my heart, so that I have confidence to act out of obedience even when fear seems to scream louder.  I need to choose redemption, so that I can own my heritage as a daughter of the king.

There is absolutely a time and a place to hold accountable thoughts and actions.  But when it comes right down to the beliefs we have about who we are, we are calling God a liar if we choose to believe that we must strive for more than he's offered through grace to be good enough.

I remember many years ago in pre-marital counseling they told us to remember,  your spouse is not your enemy.  This is a truth we have needed to repeat to one another time and time again.  I am not your enemy.

Most days, I need to be telling myself that too.  I am not the enemy.  I have been redeemed and am spotless... more than good enough.

Oh, how freeing that is.  My chest already feels lighter.  

Too often this has been paralyzing for me.  I dwell on my sinfulness as if I haven't accepted redemption.  I live in fear far too often.  The fear of being "found out" that I'm not as good as I pretend to be.  One of my favorite authors, Jennie Allen, wrote this blog post over a year ago.  But I stumbled upon it recently and it rang true.  She so truthfully says about our fear,

"Get over it. We are all about to be dust. Might as well live the stories God (the living, sovereign, lives forever, made us and the spinning planet we are sitting on….that God) wrote for us. Don’t miss your story because you are afraid of it not being great enough."

I'm ready to forget about being good, or great, by the world's standards.  Instead I will battle for truth in the smallest of ways.  Owning my least-ness, knowing that He will be made great.  Dwelling on truth.  Living out of thanksgiving.  And being an active participant in my own story, God's story, however good, great, or not-so-good, I am at times.


...

This is a on-going battle for me.  To choose to believe what God says about me as opposed to what the world, or my mind, tells me must be wrong with me.  I share, because I figure I must not be alone in this battle.  Another step in making this a place of honesty and vulnerability for me.

Lord, thank you for the gift of your heritage.  I choose to see myself as you do.  A valuable daughter, filled by the Spirit.  Redeemed.

this is my boy

I see him peeking through the crack in the door to his bedroom.  Looking for any signs of movement from me.

He's been a Mama boy lately.  Wanting me and only me.  “Mama do it” he says.  The washing, the bed-timing, the clipping in the car-seat.  He wants me.

I can't say I mind one bit.

In that moment where those sleepy eyes peek through the darkness at me, I flash back to a moment when I so desperately wanted him.

Months of not getting pregnant.  Charting, testing, clomid, and nothing.  Months turned over to a year.  Our dear friends gathered around us one evening to pray specifically over this area of our lives.  Hands on us.  Begging God on our behalf.  For peace... and if it was his will, a child.   

I will never forget it.  I don't know that I've ever felt so loved in friendship than in this moment.  They stepped into our waiting and suffering.  This is love.  This is the body.  

And less than a year later we were given this child.  I truly don't think this was any coincidence.

This child that now gazes sleepily through paci and blankie.  All along the Lord knew it was him who we were to parent.  The waiting was hard, but this is my boy.  

I have loved ones who are in that same desperate place that I once was.  Waiting.  Month after month.  Aching.  I know the ache.  It breaks my heart.  

But sometimes I forget.  When I'm all wrapped up in myself and my frustration and MY MY MY.  I forget the goodness of the Lord.  It's easy for me to focus on what I'm lacking.  My default is worry.  But he tells me not to worry... he says in ALL things... with thanksgiving... to make my requests known.  

He answers.  He does.  

Part of thanksgiving is remembering.  So today... I'm remembering the days when there was no one calling me "Mommy" at 5am and no dirty diapers to change.  I'm remembering the desperation.  But most of all, I'm remembering the goodness.  And just as my friends stepped into my suffering and my want, I'm praying for you.

I can only hope that I could be the kind of friend that is wise enough to know when prayer is needed and doesn't hesitate to hold tight to hands and speak to our creator.  I know I'm far from it.  I'm still a work in progress.

But tonight, all of you are on my heart.  So, I'm praying for you.  Begging for you.

For peace... and for a child, when the time comes for you to meet the one who will call you "Mommy".  

It is a hard wait, I know.

Much love. 

Lately...

Lately...

... we have sold our house, bought another, moved in, and we are finally starting to make new memories.  I won't lie, I have had moments of serious sadness over leaving our old tiny home.  All the memories made there have left me choked up many times.  We weren't quite ready to move in yet (a lot our stuff was still at my parents home), but this past Thursday we were feeling the need to make our house "home".  We loaded the kids up and spent our first night there.  It still feels somewhat like we are invading someone else's space, but it is slowly becoming "home".

... Jordan and I celebrated 7 years of marriage.  Yesterday.  And he took me to my favorite restaurant the night before and looked me in the eyes and thanked me for "putting up with him" these past seven years.  And all I could think of was that he is the one who has put up with me!  Despite both of our shortcomings, I would still choose this man to do life with a million times.  His servant heart.  His hard work ethic.  His humility.  The way he chooses to partner with me so that, together, we can share Christ.  He makes me a better person.  And this kind of iron against iron isn't all sunshine and roses.  We butt heads.  We nag and we snip and we often save our worst, instead of our best, for each other.  But then we have each other to be forgiven by, again.  Be encouraged by.  And be unconditionally loved by.  I think that's what it is about.  

... I've committed to do "hello mornings" and am two days in.  Waking up before the boys to get my Bible on.  This is a habit that I'm already seeing the fruit of.  Waking up for my boys and getting my heart in check is so much better than waking up to them, half asleep.  Groggy.  Crabby.  Nobody wants a crabby tired Mama first thing in the morning.  

... I got a new rug from HomeGoods for way cheaper than I was expecting.  It's soft and cute and I adore it and it makes this house feel more like home.  Thankful for that.

... Jude is still singing Happy Birthday Dear Isaac Lee two months later, and I hope it doesn't stop.

... I'm needing to minute by minute choose trust.  And joy.  And hope.  And promise.  Otherwise I fall into stress and insecurity.  I am thankful for Psalm 106 and 107 that I read this morning that reminds me of the importance of REMEMBERING the Lord's goodness.  Practicing thanksgiving so that we can return the goodness as an act of praise.  This simply isn't my default, which is stress, insecurity, anxiety.  I'd rather choose joy.  

... audiobooks are my new favorite thing.  Between paper and audio books I have read 6 books in the past two months.  This would have NEVER happened without the whole "listen while you work" (or drive, or get ready in the morning, or watch boys in the sandbox) mentality I've taken on.  I just rented my first audio novel.  Seriously, this is a game changer for me.

... I really really hope to feed my writing appetite.  Starting now.  Please hold me accountable.

... so, really, it's been too long.  What are you all up to lately?  

when you thirst

I've read this story a zillion times.

The Good Shepherd passes through Samaria when he meets her.  A woman, surely avoiding eye contact as the Jew joins her at the well.  Until He speaks.  He thirsts from his long trek, but not as she does.  He sees beyond appearance.  Beyond her Samaritan roots.  Beyond the hard exterior of a woman who has been wronged and done the wronging of a husband five times over, with yet another man in her bed.  Empty.  Insecure.  Guilt-ridden.  Parched.

A woman He should have nothing to do with for a million reasons or more.

Even in this familiar story, I read this and for the first time realized that I am that woman.  I am that woman who, time and time again, finds other loves to put above Jesus.  Looking for something to fill a void, but always coming up dry.

Once I found that common ground, I could relate with her shame.  Luckily, I don't turn to men, like this woman, and I only have eyes for one.  But when that void is once again attempting to be filled by worldly things, I feel empty.  Yet, I continue to drift toward anything but Him to fill it.

The battle of my flesh.  

But, when he could of condemned, He offers her life.  Living water He calls it.  The kind that quenches for eternity.  It fills every need.  Every thirst.  No emptiness.  No insecurity.  

We all need that water.  And it is free to all.  And oh, how I thirst.  I thirst for life, and the world lies and says they can fill with what they have to offer.

For me, it's things like approval.

Recognition.

But I deepen that thirst with things like comparison.

It breeds toxic thoughts and steals joy.

The sin that spins in my mind that says that I am not enough.  That everyone else must have it all together and that for some reason I am lacking.  

The sin that says that I am unloved.  Or judged.  Or boring.  

Oh, sweet friends.  Whenever we try to find significance and fill up with anything but living water, we will find ourselves toxic.  

I find myself there too often.

Even when we turn to our Christian friends for direction or approval or encouragement, unless we are drinking deeply from the well of life, we will still continue to find ourselves dissatisfied and parched to the core.  

And over and over and over, we'll go to the well.  And over and over and over, we'll look to other loves to satisfy.  Until we drink deep of the living water.  Embrace grace.  And let go of what the world is offering.  

Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.

To drink of eternal life is to know the source.  Our creator.  Without Him, there will never be enough.

Lord, may I drink deeply of truth.  And be satisfied in You alone.