Objects not obstacles: A mothering confession

In the early hours of Monday morning, my husband returned from a four day trip to Colorado. At which point I droggily blew my stinky morning breath in his face, kissed him somewhere in the vicinity of his lips and then slumped back into my pillow, grateful to have my husband - and subsequently - my normal life back.

He left supremely early Thursday morning to catch at 6am flight. So, with the wonderful help of grandmas, I was a single parent for 4 entire days. It's not a job I'd like to apply for anytime soon.

Typically, when my husband gets an extended break and I do not, I have duel emotions. While I'm thrilled that he's getting some time to recharge, somewhere in the recesses of my selfish heart I face each day with a countdown mentality. Only 92 more hours and then he's back, sort of thing.

But somewhere around Friday morning, amid the chaos and the noise of all of these blessings, I felt myself having a supernatural amount of patience. I'm sure we've all had spurts of that at some point but for me anyway, it has never lasted more than a few hours and then I bottom out like a ship in shallow water at low tide. I ride the waves of selfishness until, finally, I blow up at the kids over something trivial like opening a box of crackers or refilling a sippy cup.

But not this past weekend. Granted, I had much help from my Mom and Grandmother, but even still I felt different. I felt peaceful, patient, kind and even, dare I say, joyful to have all seven kids all by myself.

Trust me when I say that this is not the norm for me, y'all. Sure, I enjoy my kids immensely. I love being home with them all day and schooling them. I love their quirks, the funny things they say and how they give and receive hugs and kisses freely.

But by 5:30pm, I'm ready for my husband to walk through the door.

On Sunday morning, I cheerfully arose early and got all seven kids dressed, fed, hair combed, snacks packed and loaded into the van. Alone. And we got to church early y'all.

Last Sunday is proof that the Lord still works miracles people. Not because we were early for church, per se, but more because I didn't lose my mind (or my religion) before we got there. Sometime on Sunday evening, I sat in bewilderment at how and why I'd had so much patience, joy and cheerfulness over a long four days of what could have been stressful, annoying and down right ugly.

I felt the Lord press on me a truth that nearly knocked me over.

You see your children as an obstacle to your mothering.

Um, excuse me God? What?! How can my kids be an obstacle to my mothering? They're the reason I'm a mother!

He whispered in my soul...

Really? So the frustration at spilled drinks, messes, bottoms to wipe, loud chatter, you don't see those as an obstacle? I think you do.


Yeah. I guess I do. The truth is, instead of expecting my children to be, well, children I expected them to be less hassle. I had this expectation in my mind of what I should look like a mother, what our children should look like and how our days should flow seamlessly and when reality didn't meet my expectations, I lost control.

Yelling, frustration, angry words, unkind redirection, quick to anger, slow to show mercy...that pretty much sums up my mothering over the last several months.

I was seeing our children as an obstacle to my mothering instead of the objects of my motherly love.

The same was true for homeschooling. We use Sonlight curriculum which involves lots of reading on my part, as the teacher. As I would read or teach, the children were constantly stopping me asking questions, making comments and just generally being inquisitive. It frustrated me beyond what it should.

I slowly began to realize that we homeschool so that our children can interrupt the lesson and ask questions and their education can take on a personal form that allows for their interests to be explored.

I was viewing my own children as an obstacle to my homeschooling instead of the object of my teaching.

Then, on Sunday evening I got the heartbreaking news of a dear friend losing her unborn son. As my heart cried out to God on her behalf, I realized even more how much I should be treasuring these children God has given me rather than viewing them as distractions and obstacles.

Truly, my mind has been so focused on accomplishing tasks, getting our schooling done and all the things that come with motherhood that I lost sight of what is really important. Having a large family means that lots of things must work in a specific way for laundry, meals and everyday life to run smoothly. But those specifics should never be exchanged for discipling my kids, in every moment showing love, mercy, compassion and a genuine interest in things they are interested in.

I need to cherish my children and all of the frustrations that come with them.

Are there going to be days ahead where I lose it, get frustrated and make mistakes? Of course. Should I have expectations of my children and set boundaries? Without a doubt! But I was focusing on the tasks and not the people, which should never be the case.

Before I know it, these treasures of mine will be grown and graduating college and moving out to accomplish the lives and tasks the Lord has set before them. And I will have the joy of watching them from the sidelines as they do wonderful things for the glory of God. Until then, teaching them to love each other, love the Lord, serve Him faithfully, cheerfully and obediently is my goal. I pray that I never again see them as obstacles to my goal but rather, the objects of it.

Chock full O' Nuts Controversy

A couple posts ago, I asked if you were ready to hear about the deep, spiritual truths I learned on my trip to Guinea-Bissau. Resoundingly, you all said you were. However, two comments in particular stood out to me. Before I move on to describing my experiences, I want to address those comments first.

First of all, my friend Wendi (who went on the trip to Guinea-Bissau, too) reminded me that it was more important to get God's input than anyone else's. I love having a friend who always points me back the Lord and His desires. Thanks Wendi, for doing such time and time and time again.

Secondly, Lisa had quite a bit to say. You can read her full comment by clicking here, and scrolling to the comments section. It's pretty lengthy, but well worth going back and reading what she has to say. I'm going to address some of her comments and points in this post and will only copy and paste excerpts (or maybe even a dissection of sorts) of her comment. However, please don't just take the portion I have copied and use it as a jumping point if you'd like to join in the discussion. I really believe it's worth going back and getting a feel for the spirit with which Lisa's comment was intended.

I didn't perceive Lisa's comment to be offensive, rude or disrespectful in any way. However, she does pose some interesting questions about the spiritual realm and her experiences in Africa.

Let me preface the rest of this post by saying this:

This is my experience in Guinea-Bissau. I'm not claiming to know much, if anything, about Africa as whole. I can only comment on the limited experience I have from a 10 day trip to Guinea-Bissau, West Africa. Specifically the village of Canquelifa, where I spent the majority of my time. HOWEVER, while praying about how much of my experience to share in such a public forum, I did ask other folks, some who are missionary kids (now grown) - some former missionaries - some current missionaries - what their experiences are with the spiritual realm. Every one of them agreed that it does exist and it is active and that they had experienced it to some degree. Each of the people I spoke with told me of differing areas of spiritual activity. Some spoke of seeing the heavenly side of the spiritual realm (in Africa) while others spoke of seeing the dark side of the spiritual realm.

There are several points I want to discuss in light of Lisa's comment.

For starters, Lisa said,

I must admit I am always uneasy at how easy it is for westerners to experience the dark spiritual realm during mission trips to the “dark continent”. In my 25 years living there amongst the citizens – i.e. having them as neighbors, going to school and working with them (without the benefit of the usual segregation where missionaries tend to live in their own little “pockets” away from the “natives”), I never saw or experienced anything in the dark realm.

Lisa, I hope you understand that I do not in any way want to discredit your experiences. But, they are just that. Your experiences. And truthfully - examining your experiences against the backdrop of Scripture - I'm going to go out on a very shaky limb here and say that if you "never saw or experienced anything in the dark realm" then maybe you are fooling yourself. Because, really, I don't think your feet have to be on African soil to experience the dark side of the spiritual realm. In fact, one of the things the Lord reminded me of on the 1st night of our stay in the village was a dream I had when I was a very little girl. A dream that was so vivid, that 20 years later I can still remember details (and I can't hardly remember what I had for breakfast yesterday). I believe the Lord was confirming that the enemy does, indeed, attack me most openly in my dreams and that, indeed, what I was sensing was the presence of evil (both in my dream so many years ago and in the moment that I was currently in).

Lisa, I pray you don't find that offensive. But, truly, even in America before I ever set foot in Africa, I had experienced evil. Granted, God certainly used my time in Guinea-Bissau to open and give clarity to my spiritual eyes but the truth is, I've been in the presence of evil before. And, I'd bet that if you're being honest too, you have as well. No matter what continent you were standing on.

A sentence or two later, Lisa went on to say,

The only experience with witchcraft any of my school mates [She's referencing a previously mentioned boarding-school she was a student at - I'm guessing? Please correct me if I've misunderstood, Lisa.] ever had was what was found in the pages of western novels! My African friends would always be surprised that we had things like Wiccans in the west and not understand our fascination with the occult and eastern mysticism.

While I agree that the Africans I met were typically astounded with our fascination with the occult and demons, in particular our celebration of Halloween, I find it hard to digest that any of your African friends would deny the existence of witchcraft. I'm not for one split-second suggesting that any of your African friends participated in witchcraft, but I'm sure they know it existed. And if they didn't, I'm truly shocked.

You see, all of the people we encountered in Guinea-Bissau knew there was a supernatural battle and the power in spirits. It wasn't because they spoke crazy things or looked like crazy people. In fact, neither of those are the case. BUT, if I had to put a percentage out there, I'd wager that nearly 80% of the people in the village we were in had some sort of involvement with the witchdoctor. And it was obvious. Because, either they themselves, or their children wore amulets. See those yellow arrows below? They are pointing to amulets that are tied onto this sweet, beautiful, precious scared-to-death-of-the-white-lady-with-the-camera, princess.

Amulets bought from the village's witchdoctor and include spells, potions or who knows what else on/in them to keep away evil spirits and to bring good luck. But the truth is, those amulets don't ward off the evil, they attract the evil.



But I don't for one second blame that Momma for doing her best and whatever she can to keep her baby safe. It saddens me deeply that she is unknowingly exposing her baby to darkness. And I explained such to her. But she wasn't prepared to hear what I had to say.
And this baby wasn't the only one. Nearly every child we saw had amulets of some type on them. Some were less visible and tied around their waists, under their clothing. Others, more obvious like the sweet thing pictured above. And I know that the people in the village of Canquelifa believe in their power.
One young Momma, who looked to be about 17 or so, offered her life up to Christ. In fact, I had the privilege of praying with her, along with our translator Ruthie. The timing wasn't right to discuss with her the amulets that hung around her 6 month old baby's neck. But the next day as we made our rounds through the village, I saw her. Ruthie and I went to speak to her. Ruthe translated as I explained that now, with her being a new creation in Christ, she didn't need the amulets for her baby. She said that she's went to the witchdoctor to get them because her baby had a rash on her face. We explained that God could heal her baby, but He may not. Yet either way, the amulets were attracting evil to her baby rather than providing protection. Immediately she got a knife and cut them off. This was NOT characteristic of the new believers in the village. Most would tell us that they'd cut them off later, undoubtably, never following through.
Y'all, this was no small demonstration of faith for this young Momma. You see, this young Momma lived with her own Mom. As soon as her Mom saw what she had done, she grabbed the amulets from her daughter and told us, not-so-nicely, that she'd tie them right back on her grandbaby after we left.
If the people of this village didn't believe in or practice witchcraft, why were the amulets so prevalent? Why were they so fervently clinging to them? Again, I don't claim this is the way for all Africans, but for this group of people it was a way of life.
Lisa continued with,

I have always wondered if it is easy to experience the dark spiritual realm while in Africa based on the prissm through which we westerners view Africa – the dark continent where witchcraft and evil spirits run rampant! Thanks to national geographic, hollywood's depiction of Africa and missionaries war stories...

Oh Lisa! I know you are correct in how most westerners view Africa. And, it breaks my heart deeply. Some of my own family views Africa that way and, truly, it crushes me...and angers me.

Believe me when I say that I believed, before I ever went, that Africa is beautiful. Not only the landscape, but her people. I fell in love with Africa's people before I ever touched her soil. I can't explain how or why but I did.

Honestly, I expected to experience the supernatural while I was in Guinea-Bissau. I FULLY EXPECTED that I would see and experience things that I had never seen or experienced before. But, even that didn't meet my expectations.

You see, I expected to see the MIRACULOUS not the darkness. About a year or so before I went, one of the teams from our church went to one of the villages we've partnered with to plant a church. One of my husband's very good friends saw a New Testament miracle with his very own eyes! Indeed, he and another man prayed over a lame man and the lame man GOT UP AND WALKED AWAY. Neil (my husband's friend - and also the husband of my good friend) brought home the man's walking stick. I don't remember specifically how long the man had been lame but long enough that his thumb had worn a spot in the stick that he used to walk with. I'VE TOUCHED the not-so-lame-anymore man's former walking stick. I've ran my thumb across the wood that his thumb had worn smooth.

THAT is what I expected to see. Not the darkness. In fact, before I left the darkness never even occurred to me. Yes, I expected to see the supernatural. But not like I did. But I've found that God likes to surprise me more often than He likes to prove me right. But yes Lisa, I agree, and find it disturbing, that most western people view Africa as a dark continent. It makes me want to leave this country so much faster and prove to the people watching us that Africa is BEAUTIFUL and worth sacrificing a few comforts for the salvation of her people.

Then, Lisa reaches into my journal, plagiarizes my thoughts ;) and says the following,

To me, it appears as though we westerners never look at our own sins through the prism of the spiritual realm, but somehow the same sins in the “dark” continent and in Asia can only be attributed to this realm and not man’s fallen and sin nature.

I agree. And let me tell you all, America is out of control with the labels. Now, I'm probably going to start a whole 'nother debate but can I just go out on another limb?

I have some illnesses that run in my family. Sure, there are times with these particular illness can be situational, seasonal and sometimes even chemical imbalances. But the fact that this same illness has plagued my family for GENERATIONS should make me stop and recognize that it's probably less of an illness and more of a oppression from darkness. And I should be doing everything in my power to release my family from this bondage!

I know. Gasp! I said it. Out loud. But you know what? I think it's true. And not just for my family. Now, I am NOT saying that mental illnesses aren't serious. I'm not saying that they're not legitimate. But I do believe that Americans are very quick to get a prescription for their woes rather than renouncing the dark powers that potentially have a hold on their lives. I wholly agree with Lisa that Americans (and westerners) don't give enough credit to our own sin, fallen nature and the darkness that creeps around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. People! Our enemy is real. Why do we discredit him so much in our western world? THAT is why I desire to speak the truth about my time in West Africa.

(Cue the crazy lady stares and eye-contact avoidance on Sunday Morning. I'm ready. Bring it people. My family isn't any more messed up than yours. Let's all stop pretending, okay?)

Lastly, Lisa mentions that she cannot find any biblical evidence for the dark spiritual realm only existing in one geographical area.

Well, Lisa, I think you'll agree with me on this one. There is, in fact, one geographical area that is predominantly suppressed by the dark spiritual realm. It's little sphere of dirt and water called Earth. The enemy is called, among other things, the prince of the power of the air - meaning HE'S EVERYWHERE. And y'all he's out to get us, whether we chose to see him, believe he exists or give him any credit for the evil that surrounds us. He's not just chillin' in Africa or Asia. He's in the country you live in, the state in which you reside, the city you buy your groceries in and sometimes, even knocking on your door.

True, we are indeed driven by our own sinful selves and our fallen world. But he's after us. He's seeking to destroy us. He's looking for a foothold to drag us down. He's got authority over demons and forces and darkness beyond what our little minds can comprehend.

He's real, whether you like it or not. But, we should all take heart. Because, like Dave Ramsey says (and I'm gonna paraphrase here)...

"It's all going to be okay. I've read the back of The Book. It's okay guys. WE WIN."

So, what do you all think?

Dare to share?

I know it's been over two months since I've gotten back from Guinea-Bissau, West Africa. And I know the three, measly posts I've written about my 10 days on the other side of the world, hardly do it justice.

I've written this post in my mind at least a dozen times. In fact, I have two saved posts regarding this aspect of my trip, each of them containing 2 - 3 sentences and copious amounts of empty space.

I'm having this conflict within myself. Do I tell you all exactly what happened, laying out there the logistics of the supernatural experiences I had or do I just give you bits and pieces, palatable excerpts that I think the majority of our American Church culture can tolerate?

Because the truth is, y'all, I faced some serious stuff. Stuff that American Christians generally don't talk about. Stuff that we should talk about because it's real, but it invades on our comfortable American lives, making us uncomfortable with the fact that there really is a spiritual realm that for the most part we don't even acknowledge.

For those of you who are regular readers, honestly, I think you can handle it. But my worry is that anyone new stumbling by may read that post and go, "Woah. This Christian lady is whack. Thanks but no thanks, Jesus." Then click away, even more turned off from the Christian faith.

But the truth is, Paul didn't hold back. Neither did John in writing Revelation. I'd wager a guess to say that none of the authors of the Bible held back the truth. And while I am certainly not putting myself in the same boat as the authors of the Bible I do know that God revealed specific truths to me about the Spiritual realm. In fact, He didn't just reveal it to ME, he revealed it to my friend Wendi and the others on our trip as well.

But, on the flip side, I don't want to give myself that much credit. The truth is, if the Lord desires to draw someone to himself, how arrogant of me to think that if they read one of my blog posts that they'd be turned away for good! I'm not that important.

So I guess what I want to know is:

Do you want me to lay it out there?

It's heavy stuff, y'all. And I don't tell about it lightly. I've only shared it with specific people. But it is truth. And not just truth from my perspective, but truth as confirmed in Scripture. The spiritual realm is all around us and God brought it to the forefront of my life while I was half a world away from everything and everyone I loved. I'm not talking about fat, fluffy angels with harps and bow and arrows. I'm talking darkness.

Do you think this is the space to share that? If so, why? If NOT, why? I value your input so much.

I'm ready to go home

**I want to preface this by saying that I thought I'd get more into the stories of our trip in this post. As I began writing, something different emerged. I pray you will take what I write and digest it. I know speaking of the spiritual realm is often controversial. I fully intend to share with you some profound stories of how God moved mightily, reiterating the Spirit working as I share below. For more about our trip to Guinea-Bissau, check out my friend Wendi's blog.**

I thought when the time came to sit and begin writing about my trip to Guinea-Bissau that the words would come free and smooth. But the truth is, as I sit here to write I'm spending more time watching the cursor blink than I am moving my fingers. In fact, I've opened this post at least 4 times before adding anything of substance to it's context.

How does one try to express deep truth in mere words?

How do I convey to you all that I experienced when we live in a world that is so drastically different?

How can I describe the supernatural as I experienced it and the ways that God revealed to me things beyond what I ever knew to exist?

Honestly, I can't. But I'm sure gonna try.

You see the thing about Africa, for me, is this:

I've known for a long time that it would feel like home.

I've felt so called there, so drawn to her people, so eager to see the sights, smell the smells and feel the heat on my skin. But, even though I'd never before graced African soil part of me knew what it would be like. I didn't have much culture shock on our trip. Yes, things were certainly different from how they are here but none of it really shocked me because I was familiar with what to expect.

And what I'm about to tell you is either gonna cause you think I'm completely insane or confirm what you already know about God and His Spirit.

I fully believe the Lord revealed much of Africa to me in dreams, desires and thoughts before I ever even left. I think He has been for years. I think He has so deeply rooted the things of Africa in my soul that being there only served to confirm what I already knew to be true.

Several times I would be in a situation - standing in the market, sitting with my feet in the dirt, holding the hand of a child - and I just knew it was suppose to be familiar. Different that deja vu, and not quite the familiarity of something I'd seen in pictures. Something more. Something certain, like the Lord was saying, "See, I told you about this. You've been here before."

Y'all, God had given me those emotions, those feelings, down to the feeling of the dirt on my skin, before I ever even left.

As a Western culture, we are quick to claim that God is the God of the Bible (especially when we want to see His power work favorably for us). But we dismiss the supernatural, the Spirit realm so quickly. Or, if we take stock in any of it, we water it down so much that it makes it more digestible for our weak spiritual stomachs.

The Father sent His Spirit to counsel, direct, lead us and declare truth. (John 16:13-15) I fully believe that when God is preparing us to join Him in a great work, He desires to prepare our hearts and souls through His Spirit.

Have I lost you? Do you think I'm a giant freak show now?

Why is it okay for Cinderella to say, "A dream is a wish your heart makes" but for a Christian to say, "The Spirit revealed to me truth about the Father's will" is taboo? Granted, we do not need to be declaring false truths (1 John 4:1), but the Spirit does reveal truth. He desires to reveal Himself to us in a bold, radical way but I believe that as Westerners we are too afraid to breech the Spiritual realm for fear of what others will think of us. Or maybe we're too afraid of what we'll experience. Or maybe we just don't care about God enough to live outside our comfort zone and declare the word of the Lord boldly.

I can say that at one point in my life I fit all three of those descriptions. Today I sit on the other side. This post didn't turn out to be at all what I intended but nonetheless it was what is in my heart, waiting to be spilled out.

Has following God's call to join Him in Africa cost me? YES.

Family relationships have been strained, some only hanging on by a thread. Friendships have been terminated. Our faith has been stretched. Our lives mocked. We've sold the house I thought I'd live in forever. We've sacrificed comfort and we will again.

But I can assure you one thing.

Just like the people of Africa, our lives are beautiful.

God has chosen our family (for some reason I will never be able to fully grasp) to take His truth to the unreached people of Africa. And I believe that long before my trip to Guinea-Bissau God has taken us there in spirit, thoughts, dreams and desires.

As I reflect on all that I saw, experienced, felt and lived I can say without hesitation one undeniable truth: Africa feels like home.

Y'all, I'm ready to go home.

He hears my every word

I go before the Lord and all I can mutter is, "Oh God, please God."

My heart is heavy. Broken even. And all I can say is His name over and over again. Which is why Romans 8:26-28 plays through my mind so often,

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Because the truth is, I don't know what I ought to pray. I don't know how to verbalize the pain and hurt within my heart as it runs deeper than any I've ever known before.

So I crumple myself before the feet of the King, knowing that His word stands true and that His Spirit is interceding on my behalf according to the will of God. And I sit, saying nothing other than His name. Begging Him for intercession when my words fail me. Knowing that I could rattle off dozens of my own physical or tangible desires but the things of my heart that are the heaviest, the most broken, are those unseen. Nothing of the physical is needed for my body. Nothing tangible do I hunger for. Only Him and the intimacy that He brings in the times when I am alone.

Throughout the day, I mutter prayers for people I love as they cross my mind, "Lord, help my friend overcome that stomach bug," or "be with so-and-so as she and her husband discuss delicate subjects with family" or "help my friend as she prepares for childbirth" or "help my friend to know that YOU are provider " but of the things that weigh me down - to the point of sometimes feeling that I physically cannot stand - of those, I cannot speak.

Somedays, I just sit in front of my Bible unable to focus on the words on the page because my heart aches so much. "Oh God, please God."

It's hard. Following the Lord is HARD. Jesus never said it would be easy and I knew that. But I guess I never realized that the enemy would attack me where it hurts the most. THE VERY MOST.

And so I fall, facedown before the King of Kings, the Great I AM, The Beginning and the End, The Faithful and the True, The Hope of Glory, the Lord of lords, the One who writes the history of the world, and I beg Him over and over for something I cannot even find words for.

And I know He hears my every word.

Speaking of Unspoken

Okay, so most of you know by now that I'm a "lay it all out there" kind of person. I don't have a lot of secrets and I'm not typically a private person. Basically, what you see is what you get with me. I've never been the person who requests prayer for the "unspoken" because, well, quite frankly I think that's annoying. If something is pressing enough for you to ask others for prayer I am sorta of the mindset that you should just fess up.

However, God is working on me. Over the last 2 or so years God has placed some things on my heart. He gently reminds me ever so often, and each time I'm brought to tears. So here I go, asking for prayer and also saying that I don't really wish to share much about it. Here's what I will say:

1. On Sunday, Micheal delivered another powerful sermon. There's something about your pastor speaking God's truth directly into your life in front of 500ish people. It's humbling and so amazing. Baby D got fussy so I excused myself about 3/4 of the way through. Before I left, God and I had a pretty interesting conversation. He'd let me listen to Michael for a bit, then chime in, adding His own twist. The part that surprised and moved me is that God delivered a promise then a calling.

2. I can tell you that both the promise and the calling are God sized and there is absolutely nothing I can do to make either of them happen. I'm excited to see how God is going to work this out.

3. I'm scared. I'm scared because the thing God has requested of me will put me FAR out of my comfort zone. I'm scared to breathe it (other than to Luke, of course) because what if I'm wrong. What if God didn't say that to me, and then I go blabbing it around and it never comes to pass? What if it's true and I have to be obedient?

So, pretty much, if God lays it on your heart just pray for our family. God is moving and spoke to me although I went for about 3 weeks in a dry spell, where I just lacked desire to read my Bible or spend any time with God...yes, it's true and I feel you deserve the truth. I'm humbled that He still choose to speak to me even when I ignored Him. I'm humbled that He would call me to this task. I'm in awe that He considers me His servant.

I know that I need to look for 2 more big signs before I can count this as God's plan. Step 1 has been done which is Confirmation by the Holy Spirit. I'm still praying and waiting for 2) Confirmation in Scripture and 3) Confirmation through Godly Counsel. If you feel led, pray with me. If not, that's okay too. If you have advice, I'll listen. If you're a non-believer and question how God speaks in these ways ask via the comment section or privately by emailing me at: beaverbunch (at) gmail (dot) com.

Thanks for reading my blog, it's humbling that other care enough to read my silly rantings. I'll leave you with Scripture that has been brought to me several times today:

No one can know a person’s thoughts except that person’s own spirit, and no one can know God’s thoughts except God’s own Spirit.
~ 1 Corinthians 2:11

-----

Here I am Lord. Make me a willing servant. Make my heart pure, so that I can receive your desires for my life outside of the desires of my sinful heart. I desire to serve You, I desire to serve. Amen.

A Season or A Spell?

I've been going through a dry spell lately. Hopefully, I'm not the only believer on the planet who experiences this, so some of you can relate. Basically, I've not made time for God lately. Other things, that are so obviously not important, have edged their way into my time with Him. The part that really perturbs me is that it is stupid stuff. You know, things like creating a new blog header, cleaning my house, or better yet, napping. I feel like I can almost justify the napping considering that I have a newborn in the house. Just last night, Baby D decided that he wanted to be awake from 3:00am - 4:45am. He wasn't fussy, he just wanted to be awake and be held. Part of me can almost justify the cleaning, have you been to my house lately? However, I know that even these things, justifiable as they may be, are just another thing separating me from the blessings I could be receiving from time with Him.

A few years ago, I honestly don't remember if it was after Elizabeth was born or when the twins were born, my friend Emily and I were talking about being a mom and having quiet time (or for me, the lack thereof). Emily, being the wise, wise woman she is, offered me a different perspective. She said, "Jessica, in this season of your life, God truly knows the desires of your heart. He knows how much you have going on. Make your day constant worship to Him, while you mother your children." That spoke such volumes to me. I know that God cares about details because He's shown me that time and time again. Yet, this time it's different.

Yes, I'm suffering from lack of sleep. Yes, I have 4 children under 4 in my home. But in all honesty, those things aren't what's keeping me from Him. It's purely me. I feel like I go through spurts of intense study. I will go weeks and immerse myself in God's word, gulping in the freshness of the Spirit that is feeding me as much as I can take. Then, without warning, it fades. I begin to go a day or two without picking up my Bible. Those two days turn into a week, and before I know it, it's Sunday morning and I'm frantically searching the house for my Bible, because I have no clue where I last put it. Finally, I discover it, still in the car from last Sunday.

Where is the balance in my life? Where can I find that perfect harmony between too much and not enough? How can I orchestrate my days so that God is my #1 priority? Out loud I say that God is at the top of my ever growing list. However, my actions do not truly portray that. I certainly put my family, house and even computer time ahead of my Savior. As I struggle with it all, I am reminded of my life verse. Philippians 3:12-14 pretty much hits me like a ton of bricks each and every time I read it.

I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back.
~The Message

When I read those words, I'm reminded just how far I've come in my walk. I'm reminded that when I first began, I would go months without reading my Bible, and never feel convicted until someone or something pointed it out. Now, a few days without my God time and I'm thirsting for it. Maybe I go through drys spells so that I can see how far I've come. Maybe I go through them to see how much further I have to go. Either way, I know that I'm a work in progress. My walk with Christ changes daily. I am truly off and running, and I'm not turning back. Now....where's my Bible?

The Sheerest of Gifts

Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don't try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.
~ James 1:2-4 (The Message)

Pure joy, huh (That's the NIV translation)? A sheer gift? Really? If such is the case, then I'm so tickled I could pop! I love how it is written in The Message version because it reads,

when tests and challenges come at you from all sides (emphasis added).

I totally feel that way right now. I am being tested from every angle. Family frustrations, homeschooling worries, volunteer duties....then of course there's the usual, things. The "simpler" stuff like parenting, marriage, keeping my house up. Wow, a sheer gift? I struggle to see all the joy.

Where I AM finding joy is in the fact that I am yearning for time with my Father. I am desperate for His word. I'm thirsty. Not that I've opened my Bible more than once this week, but the longing is still there. 6-12 months ago, I would have just continued through my day lacking nothing. The stress would be piling higher still, but the outlet never identified, the desire never sparked. That is sheer joy for me. I have prayed so many times, "Father, let me desire to spend time with you. Let me long for your word." He has answered. He has provided the desire, the longing. Many times this past week I've walked right past my Bible, glancing at it with such longing. Knowing that a half hour, fifteen minutes, in it's goodness would replenish my soul. But life's demands have called me away. Now I can see the attacker roping me into his snares.

Two years ago, shortly after the twins' birth, Luke and I were laying in our bed, exhausted from the day. Our new precious babies, were snoozing softly in the bassinet next to our bed. As one of them squeaked out a sweet baby noise, we both smiled. Almost in unison we spoke of how much fun this parenting thing was. Yes, we were EXHAUSTED. Yes, we were strained, but it truly was pure joy. It really was the sheerest of gifts. Looking back, I totally see what verse 4 means when it says,

Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.

We could not have felt more completely exhausted. I wondered a lot back then if we'd ever make it to the twins' 2nd birthday. I wondered how we would ever endure. However, I can see so clearly that God sent us Lucas and Ashlee exactly when He did so that we could become more mature, more developed parents. We don't have this parenting thing all figured out by any means. However, managing newborn twins and a 22 month old wasn't easy. It was physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausting. Having 3 kids under two certainly prepared us for having four kids under 4. This is WAY easier than it was when the twins were newbies, and I'm so much more spiritually mature. Knowing all of this, I know that this stress and these troubles are for God's perfect plan. I know that I am being tested because of a greater good. I know that He is sovereign, faithful and above all, LOVE. Because of that knowledge and my faith in Him, I will persevere. I will endure and I will try to consciously recognize the sheer gifts I have in my life at this very moment.

PS-Thanks Mandy for bringing these verses to my attention. I needed it so much more than you could know.

Breakable Walls

Today has been a struggle. I found out from Baby D's social worker (different from our social worker, yes that makes 2 so far) that the first scheduled visit with birth parents is in the morning. Not only that, but because of some weird scheduling issues, I'll most likely be present and in the same room for most of the visit. It is unavoidable. My heart is torn. While I know it's beneficial, it also makes me nervous. So much rides on these visits. Will they say the right things just to be saying them? Will the social worker see if they are being fake? (A 3rd social worker, in case you're counting). Will they want him back? Will they want to let him go? Will they even know what they want this early in the game?

Earlier today as I struggled through these emotions I felt the Lord calling me. Even though the twins were waking up, I shut off the monitor and spent some time with God. I did my daily work from Experiencing God and realized that all God was asking me to do was pray and wait. I am so much a "get it done" kind of girl. If I know something needs to be fixed, I want to fix it. If I see that a conversation needs to be had, I wanna talk about it. If I think that something is about to happen, I want it to get here and get gone. On a side note: I am NOT this proactive with the cleanliness of my home, dirty laundry, etc. Guess you can't have it all, huh?

Anyway, as I finished up my daily work with Henry Blackaby, I felt God saying "Pray." So, I prayed. I told God that I wasn't sure how I was suppose to feel. I told Him that I knew there were walls around my heart. I told Him that I was struggling to find balance. I told Him I knew He'd heard my prayers and that He would answer. Still feeling the call to Jeremiah 29:11(as I had since I first heard about Baby D), I decided I'd read the entire 29th chapter of Jeremiah. Can I just tell you how cool God is?

Let me set the stage. Jeremiah the prophet is writing a letter to the exiles from Jerusalem. These people had been banished from Jerusalem to Babylon by King Nebuchadnezzar. In the letter Jeremiah basically tells them that God has spoken to him and His message to the people is that they should get comfortable (my translation, not NIV). God said to them:

"Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease." v. 5-6

Clearly they'd been asking God, "What do we do? How do we live? How long will this last?" Hummm....those questions sounded familiar to my pleading heart.

Basically, they are to carry on with their lives as normal. Normal? Really? Come on God! Nothing about this is normal! I have some other woman's baby in my home. I'm suppose to treat this baby normally? Like mine? Go about my life as if he were my own?

In that still, small voice I hear, "Yes." I'm totally floored. I prayed and asked and He made known. Now that I had my answer, I had to pray the hardest part yet. "Father, tear down the walls. Tear them down so that I can love this sweet baby as my own. Keep me from being guarded. Open my heart to him. Let me love."

I left my quiet time and continued on with my day. All 4 kids woke up, had a snack and we went out to play in the sand and water. Later, I brought Baby D upstairs and started getting dinner ready. I was feeding him his bottle when it hit me like a hurricane. "You're mine," I whispered softly, "and I'll love you as long as God lets me." Even now, typing those words brings tears to my eyes. I sat with Baby D, on our couch and the flood gates opened. God slowly and faithfully tore down each and every brick from around my heart. I cuddled, kissed and allowed this child into my heart. I promised him I'd love him forever, whether he's in our home or not. I allowed my soul to birth one more child. My heart divided once more, but this time making enough room for one more tiny person.

Today, I became a mother to 4.

May the words of my mouth and
the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight,
O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.
~ Psalm 19:13

(Yes, that is Baby D's preciousness pictured!)

Tricia's Having Surgery!!!

UPDATE: The surgery technically started just a little after 9:00EST. I know, I know, I sound like I"m part of the family but I just can't tell you how much my heart goes out to these folks. I am sincerely praying for the Operating Room to be shoulder to shoulder with angels, protecting Tricia during the surgery, and holding the hands of these surgeons. I also pray for another room full of angels, except these are for the donor family. Please join with me in prayer.


I know I'm a little freaky b/c I really don't know these people, but Tricia is having her surgery tonight! She has been in the OR for little over an hour. My stomach is in knots and I know I won't be able to sleep tonight!

As for my freakish obsession with this family, I cannot tell you how many times a day the Holy Spirit brings them to my mind. I pray for them almost as much as I do for my own family.

Please, please, please lift them up to the Creator of the universe in prayer. Pray for the donor family, surgeons and especially Tricia & Nate's family.

My (Unofficial) Foster Parents

I've been thinking a lot today about the role of foster parents. Then, out of the blue, the Holy Spirit revealed to me something absolutely amazing...I HAD (unofficial) FOSTER PARENTS!!!

When I was in senior high school, my relationship with my father began to get shaky. At that time, my best friend's family accepted me into their home. Although I didn't spend copious amounts of time there, when I was there I was family. Now, I've moved 13 hours away from not only my best friend, but her family as well. And although my communication with them is limited, I have no doubt that they had a profound impact on my life. They loved me as their own, even though they didn't have to. They prayed for me as their own, even though I didn't know it. They think of me as their own, even though I'm never there. For this, Mr. Jim & Mrs. Mary, I am eternally grateful.

As Luke and I continue to journey down this path towards foster care, God continues to reveal just how he's molded, shaped and trained me for this position. Even before I was His, He knew this was the path I would choose and He prepared my heart and my mind. I am reminded of two scriptures:

Romans 5:8 But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Psalm 139:13-16

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

Before Christ died on the cross, for me, He knew the choices I would make. Before I was even a clump of cells, growing inside my mother's womb, He knew all of my days and all of my choices. I am continually astounded that the Creator of the Universe reveals these things to me. What a Mighty, Amazing and completely Personal God I serve!

I'm reminded of a portion of a song by Mercy Me that says:

Your love, is extravegant.
Your friendship, it is intimate.

He is extravagant. He is intimate. Thanks Mr. Jim & Mrs. Mary for playing such a profound role in my life. Though to you it might feel trivial, God knew from the beginning, and He knows even the end. I love you guys...

Mr. Jim & Mrs. Mary with Elizabeth (age 7.5 mos)