No Fear

When I was a teenager there was a popular line of clothing called No Fear. It was a pretty hot trend for a while. You'd see it on hats, shirts and all kids of other things. I'm not sure what we were supposed to have "No Fear" of, but just about everyone had something with the brand on it. After the past week's tragic massacre in Newtown, CT, fear has stricken parents all across our country. And honestly, it's gripped my heart a bit, too. As I've prayed for that community and for all of our precious children over these last few days, God has consistently reminded me of one thing: to have no fear. That's one of those things that is so much easier to say than to do. But every time I find myself drifting to a place of fear, God gently plants Isaiah 54:10 in my mind: "The mountains might shake. The hills might be removed. But my faithful love for you will never be shaken. And my covenant that promises peace to you will never be broken," says the Lord. He shows you his loving concern." Through so many different things in my life, God has used that single verse to speak peace to me. And this is another one of those times. There is so much in this world that is fully out of my control. So many things I can't protect my children from. So many unknowns in every part of my day. But God sees it all. And God promises me His peace, if I'll seek and accept it. If I choose to live with No Fear, surrendering my life and, even bigger, my children's lives to his control, He promises me peace. Peace when nothing else makes sense. Peace when the world, or my world, is turned upside down. Peace when chaos abounds. And it's a peace that no power or person on earth can take from me. When tragedy strikes, when this world just doesn't make sense, I can have peace. But it's a choice. I can choose to daily walk in fear of things that I can't control or I can choose to trust Him and have no fear. I can choose to trust Him and walk in His precious covenant of peace. Thank you, Jesus, for your sweet peace.

In 11 days...

In just 11 days, Christmas will be here. In 11 days, our house will wake up and eagerly head to our living room to excitedly open Christmas gifts. In 11 days we'll gather with family that we don't see nearly enough. In 11 days we'll enjoy our favorite Christmas foods and fully overeat then nap on the couch while we watch football. In 11 days 26 (as the count stands now) families will observe their first Christmas after losing their child, their spouse, their parent, their friend. In 11 days presents that were bought in anticipation of a Kindergartener's Christmas will remain unopened...serving as a cruel reminder of a senseless act. In 11 days, while the rest of the country celebrates, 26 families will struggle to find a smile in the grief and mourning. In 11 days, the added patience we have with our kids today will likely be worn thin. The added time that we longed for today will likely seem less significant. The extra tight and numerous hugs we've given today will likely have returned to what "normal" is in our homes. In 11 days most of us will have returned to life as normal. But not those 26 families. Life will never be normal again. Through God's grace they will begin to heal. Through God's strength at work in them, a very different life will continue and move forward. Those 26 families will likely never take their remaining family for granted again. They will like hold their surviving children closer every day. They will likely grow to have a very new and full appreciation for this life. Today, 11 days before Christmas, the heart of this mother is grieved beyond words. Tears are being shed for children I never knew and parents I will never meet. Today, 11 days before Christmas, with fully inadequate words, I sat with my children and tried to answer questions about an evil I can't begin to explain. There's something about this tragic event that has hit me very differently. Maybe it's that the majority of these children are just a year older than my daughter. Maybe it's that this happened in a quiet, safe community. Maybe it's that it happened in an Elementary School. Maybe it's a bit of all of it. Whatever it is, I find myself wanting to be more intentional. Intentional about making sure my kids leave me every day knowing without doubt how much they are loved. How proud I am of them. Intentional about increasing my patience. Intentional about extra hugs, extra snuggles. Intentional about time. Today, 11 days before Christmas, in honor of the lives lost...and because it's what should be done without these gruesome events...I am looking forward to being more intentional. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for my children. I'm not just counting my blessings, I'm relishing them. Today and in 11 days my prayers will pour out for 26 families in Connecticut. Today and every day I will cling to my anchor and know that he He holds firm...even when this world is shaken. "I find rest in my God alone. He is the One who saves me. He alone is my rock. He is the One who saves me. He is like a fort to me. I will always be secure." Psalm 62:1-2

Heavy on the bitter, light on the sweet

Change. Transition. Turning the page. New chapter. No matter how you say it, it's something I don't generally jump up and down and get excited about. Even when it's self-initiated change. And that's where I am right now. Right smack in the middle of a change that I felt God lead me to some months ago. That's finally happening now. And it's bittersweet...with emphasis on the bitter. For the last three and half years, my church has also been my job. The job has changed over the years and with each change I've grown to love it more. But it's been more than a job. It's been a ministry. Sometimes by title, sometimes by chance, sometimes by choice. I look back at who I was in June of 2009 when I showed up to work that first day and in some ways I hardly recognize that girl. That girl was one week removed from single most difficult thing she had ever walked through. That girl had felt God working in her and restoring things in her, but until her Pastor caught her totally off guard in the church parking lot, didn't know that other people saw it, too. That girl totally questioned if she was really equipped for this ministry position that had just come her way. But that girl knew that God had been at work. And that God had a plan bigger than her. And that if she would just walk in it, she'd love where it took her. In three and a half years I've come a long way. I've seen a lot. I've grown so much. I've done things that have scared me to death...and seen God work because of it. I've come to recognize areas where I fall short that I have to work on daily. I've learned a whole new respect for loyalty and trust. And I hope I've become more of both of those things. I've come to really appreciate those who invest in others. And those who have invested in me. I've learned to see beyond the exterior of someone's personality and know that there is a story that has shaped that person. This "job" has helped keep my centered and has reminded me of how important the church is to its community. It has allowed me to work with a purpose, not just for an income. And there was a time that I couldn't picture myself not there. Until about six months ago. God began working in me and in our family leading my heart back to my greatest calling...mom. And He has allowed everything to fall perfectly into place in perfect time. And now that this time is nearing an end, I'm on the bitter end of the bittersweet. The "lasts" that come with leaving a job are sinking in. I'm getting a little emotional about leaving. But looking so forward to what God has in store for me, for us, next. I'm growing to embrace change more in my old age. This bitter is giving me a greater appreciation for where I've been and what I've had for the last three and a half years. And it keeps me looking forward to the beautiful sweet that will come when I'm home...where my heart is.