What is your truth climate?

Troy and I went to Hawaii the end of January. There were just faint whisperings of this thing called the Coronavirus, but it felt very far away. I wrote the following on the plane on the way home.

As we hiked down the trail the foliage became fuller, growing taller than my head and threatening to cover the path. Green grass, so tall and thick. It looked just like the long grasses of my childhood that we would put between our thumbs and blow through to make a loud whistle. It looked just like it but it was much much bigger, taller, wider. It was the biggest grass I remember seeing. Jurassic. I thought to myself: “This Hawaiian grass is living to its full potential!”. The tepid weather, lush rains – it all creates a climate for fantastic growth.

I want to be like that grass. Living to my full potential. Growing into all that God made me to be.   However, life is not all Hawaiian bliss. There are such hard things. Things that don’t feel like balmy temperatures or warm misty rain. There are things that feel like tornados and volcanos and blizzards. Things that in and of themselves were made to destroy my delicate jurassic grass. Is it possible to keep a climate of full potential growth, in the unpredictability of life?

Is it naive to think that surrounding my self with God’s truth will protect my grass? Truth like “He is with me. He is for me. He’s always working for my good. He’s immeasurably better then I can understand. The victory has been won. He has made a way. Heaven is home. Prayer changes things. He is my confidence. Nothing but the Blood of Jesus” This is my truth climate. It’s a climate I can take with me where ever I go. Things that will remain true, no matter what my circumstances.

It’s been a few months since I wrote that and now we are living the quarantine life. We can’t control the world around us but we can wrap ourselves in truth that never changes. Truth that makes our feet steadfast, our voices steady as we declare it out: Our God is bigger. What the enemy meant for evil our God will use for good. We were made for such a time as this. We are empowered by the Holy Spirit. His very name is Healer. Heaven is our home and death never wins. We won’t bow to fear because of the King who has already fought and won the greatest battle for us. We stand in the shadow of the cross, confident and bold in His story.  Tornados and blizzards or not. His truth climate keeps us not just surviving but thriving.

 

 

 

 

 



Who loves you most?

My 4 year Annalise and I used to play a game. I would say

“Who loves you?” and she would say “Ellie!” (sister). I would say “who else?” and she would list the rest of her siblings. “Who else?”  “Grammie and Papa!”. We would go on like this until we got to Daddy and our cat. Then I would say “Anna, who loves you the most?” and she would shout “Jesus!”

I thought of this, this morning as I was reading Luke 22. I have so loved reading through Luke in the Passion Translation. Everywhere He went Jesus brought life and truth. He was constantly releasing freedom, speaking in power, redeeming the lost.

Then we get to Luke 22. Jesus and His disciples eating the last supper. As they all sat down Jesus says some startling words. “I have longed with passion and desire to eat this Passover lamb with you before I endure my sufferings”.

Why would Jesus have longed for this moment? As I read this chapter my heart and eyes were full of tears. Jesus knew what was coming. He knew ALL that the road to the cross would entail. It’s hard to comprehend humanly. Which of us, knowing the greatest suffering of all was upon us, would have mental capacity to long for a meal with people, some of which would deny and leave you in your time of deepest pain?

Then I remembered what this meal symbolized. This meal forever would be a reminder of the new covenant that was unfolding now. The bread and the wine. It spoke of the body and blood of Jesus that would be offered for the broken and the lost. for us. for me. It is what the path is paved of – the path that leads into the Presence of God. The body and blood of Jesus represents new life. It represents salvation, healing, provision, eternal life, unhindered relationship with an Almighty God. Jesus longed with passion and desire for us to know and experience this.

The suffering that was ahead was worth it to Him, so that we could know true love, life and healing.

This morning I feel Him whispering “Who loves you most, Sarah?”

You do Jesus! You do!



He’s always healing us

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. I soaked in every minute of it. From the early morning breakfast and coffee in bed with many precious notes written by little hands, to lounging on the couch and reading a book, uninterrupted, to working outside as a family. I wanted to freeze the moments.

The past year has brought a lot of loss in our family. My Grandpa passed away last October. A life fully and well lived. My Aunt passed away a few months later, so quickly, it felt unfair. A few months after that, my nephew died in a motorcycle accident. Tears drip as I write these words. It still feels like it can’t be real or true.

This Mother’s Day, more than ever, I felt the immense value and preciousness of the time I have with my people. This deep love brings such joy! Life is such a gift! Life is fleeting and not owned by us. Every breath is a gift.

This is my 15th Mother’s Day without a mom. I spent some time yesterday, just quiet with the Lord. He has been reminding me that the only way through grief is to sit with Him in it. He urged me to sit with Him, to remember Mom with Him. To cry with Him. To let Him speak into all of it. I did. I realized that the memories of Mom that come first are memories of her being sick. Those memories are so hard. Other memories came. Memories of getting up in the morning and having coffee with her. Memories of her laugh, and how she could make me laugh so hard.

Then I let Him speak into it all. He reminded me that her love is the foundation of who I am today. Though I can’t see her or call her, the way she loved and poured into me still sustains me. Her legacy lives through me. My kids are receiving pieces of what she poured into me. When they meet her they will feel like they already know her because of this.

His truth, His comfort, is the greatest I have ever known.

My Mom always had a barrel overflowing with beautiful flowers in the spring on our porch. Yesterday I drove down to Home Depot and meandered through the garden department carefully selecting colors. I brought home my purchases and Ellie and I planted them in a big planter. I felt His grace in it as Ellie worked with me, chatting away and her big brown eyes alive with excitement. “I just love gardening, Mom!” Now I have flowers on my porch, like my Mom.

Our God is our great Redeemer, bringing beauty from our ashes. His goodness is never-ending. He is my great Hope! This song by Steffany Gretzinger has been my anthem lately.

Confident

You’re always moving in the unseen
The breath You exhale sustaining me
Before I call You know my need
You’re always going before me

I’m confident Your faithfulness will see me through
My soul can rest
My righteousness is found in You
With every moment left
In every borrowed breath
Let this be true
That all my heart
For all my life belongs to You

Your laughter scatters my enemies
You give me joy for my mourning
You lift my head so I can see
All of Heaven surrounding me

I won’t win this battle
With the strength of my own hands
You’re the Mountain Mover and only You can
I won’t build my life on sinking sand
You’re my hope forever
The Rock where I stand

The Rock where I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand

If you are carrying pain today, losses, grief, disappointment – He offers all of us this place – it’s in His arms where He holds us so tight, so safe. He sits with us, He listens, He cries. He speaks. When He speaks it changes things. He breathes life over us and gives us a place to heal. He’s always healing us.



Love them hard

This is Annalise. She is 3 and full of belly laughs and little girl sweetness. She is plump and squishy and I kiss her cheeks at least 100 times a day. She loves snuggles and pretends to be a cat for most all of the day, often responding with meows instead of words. She has an absolute breakdown in the morning if I get up and make my coffee without her. She loves to help make the coffee and can’t understand why I don’t wake her up. The problem with this situation is that my goal is to get up and make my coffee without her, only because mama needs the quiet. When her feelings are hurt she will say “you have ruined my heart!” – her big blue eyes and bottom lip telling the story. She is so precious and i find myself clutching at the fleeting baby moments.

 

Parenting is such an incredible thing. The joy and pain (and it is both!) of watching your children grow. People tell you it goes fast, but its like you breathe and the moment is gone. They are bigger, more independent, more beautiful. Just as they should be.

 

Lately I have been praying about parenting these 4 kids we have. I was telling the Lord that I really long for them to KNOW Him, to know His voice, to encounter the Holy Spirit. I was asking for wisdom in how to do this practically, in a way that is worked out in every part of our lives, not just in a devotional around the breakfast table.

 

As I was praying I felt like the Lord was saying “Your job, Sarah, is to love them hard. Love them hard and well and give them opportunities”. This seems so simple and in many ways it is! But I sat there thinking about it, it grew layers. I could see His heartbeat in it.

 

You see He is so gentle with us. We have this free will to choose Him. He is always giving us opportunities to grow deeper with Him.

 

In my parenting I can’t make my kids choose Him, but I can sure give them opportunities to encounter Him. Truly encountering Him is the most life-changing experience I know. I can lead them to the well that never runs dry!

This is changing the way I approach discipling my kids and even how we plan for the future. We want to give our kids opportunities to travel and fall in love with the people and cultures that are so close to God’s heart.

 

We want to pray with our kids and then give them opportunities to hear from the Lord. We want to give them opportunities to serve and pour out their lives as they see need and identify unique ways they were made to answer those needs.

 

As I was thinking over these parenting things, the Lord opened my eyes to see that He is constantly doing this same thing with me. He is loving me so well. Constantly pouring out a waterfall of His unfailing love and grace over me. He is also constantly giving me opportunities to go deeper with Him, to be used by Him. I can choose to stay safe and comfortable, or to adventure with HIm. He will take me a deep as I am willing to go. As I write those words my heart pounds because I have clutched safety for so long! And yet my heart longs to run with Him!

 

My prayer today is that you and I will know, in the depths of who we are, how deeply loved we are. That from that place we would have eyes to see the opportunities He is giving us to bring life, love and freedom to those around us.

 



Sweaty palms and all.

There is no where to start but at the bottom. At the foundation and the truth of what this is. It’s being honest about the insecurity and the challenge that I feel right now.

I really like words. I process my life and heart by writing words down. I connect with God through Words, I hear His voice through words. I have many many many journals filled with my words.

For some time now I have felt the nudge of the Holy Spirit to publish some of my words on my blog. He has nudged and I have pushed back. You see, when I put my words out for other people to read, I feel exposed. Vulnerable. I give other people the opportunity to have thoughts and opinions about my words. I don’t like that! It doesn’t feel safe!

I told the Lord this. Do you know what He said to me? He said His Kingdom has never been built by people staying safe and comfortable. It’s been built by people who listened and obeyed even when it was hard and uncomfortable and vulnerable.

So here I am. Cringing to even post this, because what if I post this and then chicken out and never post another word? That’s embarrassing. My palms are sweating as I type this.

Here is what I am banking on. I am banking on the truth that the Holy Spirit is way bigger than these fears and insecurities and that He has uniquely created me and gifted me to write. That He has a purpose bigger than me and that He will use my words to bring hope and life to other people. My job is to step forward with Him, sweaty palms and all.

What about you? Do you have things that you feel called to do? Has it been hard to step into these things? What holds you back?

I have been so aware lately that this life is short – so short. We only get one opportunity to do the things we are called to do. Let’s do them.



The First Snow!

5aiwn2u10cw-aaron-burden

Yesterday afternoon shouts of joy erupted in this house. We had been waiting for weeks for snow to fall. We had watched the snow line creep down the hills around our home, so white, so beautiful.  Even months ago when we were still living in Southern California, snow was the talk of the family. When people would ask our kids if they were excited about moving, they would reply with an affirmative “YES! Because it snows there!”.

My kids have only seen snow once. In what felt like a miraculous, once every 25 years moment, we had snow in Southern California on a new year’s eve in the middle of the night. We woke up the kids so they could see it and experience it. That was two years ago and it didn’t stick around long.

Now we live in a place that will have snow every winter, probably all winter.

Yesterday was the first. The first snowflakes fell, gently, swirling tiny snowflakes. The excitement was loud and wild. We all stood by the window and soon spilled out the sliding glass door to experience it. Snowflakes on the face. There is nothing like it.

It’s true that this will soon be normal and perhaps we will be weary of snow and winter. For now it is new and so magical. I love watching my babies encounter the gloriousness of it.

I sat in the quiet hours this morning, reading, praying, connecting, indeed coming to Jesus in weakness. There is so much that I don’t have nailed down, so much growing that I have to do. As I came to Him this morning, He didn’t want to talk about that. He wanted to tell me about His love.

He spoke to me about how His love will never be exhausted, how I will never come to the end of it. How it will always hold wonder and how it is like a vast expanse of territory that I get to explore. It’s ever present. It’s for now, for this moment and for every moment that will come my way today.

Funny how I come to Him and want to review my failings. He wants to enfold me in joy. He wants me to walk as a care-free child experiencing snow for the first time. Even today.  Even in the grown up world I live in that has real problems, where the world around me holds real suffering and real hard things. Even in this world I can experience His love, I can flesh it out, I can explore it. It never runs dry. It fills me up to overflow so it can spill into the lives of others. It’s so simple. I don’t have to try harder to be better, to be more. All He asks of me is that I surrender to His love. All the other things of growing and becoming are fruit of reveling in His love.

If today finds you tired and weary, I invite you lift your face. Experience the snowflakes of His love. Swirling around, so gentle. Let Him sing over you. He is so for you. He is all around you. He has depths of love that you have never seen.



Believe (A series on Faith part 1)

river of life

“People are made right with God when they believe that Jesus sacrificed his life, shedding his blood.” Romans 3: 23-24

 

I read this verse yesterday in my quiet time. It’s so startlingly simple. In one sentence the world is turned upside down. My darkness becomes radiant light. Not by my lifework, my contribution to mankind, not by working really hard or by running 1000 miles, but by believing. Seriously?

 

Simply believing, changes everything. I am made right with God when I believe that Jesus sacrificed His life, shedding His blood. This is the cornerstone for my life as a Christ follower. Because out of the craziness of that truth – that I am made right out of believing – comes everything else. If I let go of simple trust in the encompassing work of Jesus to make me right with God, I immediately lean into works and what I see and feel. I sink into the mentality of the world around me which lives only by sight and not by faith. And it’s so dreary there.

 

This faith thing is so tantalizing to me! I am intrigued because it so doesn’t come naturally to me. It’s believing in the face of what may feel like all odds against me. Feelings. They make life glorious and complicated. So often nothing I “feel” encourages me to have faith. So often nothing I “see” encourages me to have faith. Yet stepping forward in that very moment is the essence of faith.

 

I long for this. I love this! God is such a life giver, a river of life! I love that about Him! I am so thankful for it! Because the world around us is so broken and dying and dark. He sweeps in with light and all that is good and brings this mighty wind of hope. I breathe it in and am changed. When I breathe out I breathe out His life.

 

“If you believe you will see the glory of God.” John 11:40

 

Believing where you cannot see and especially where you cannot feel. This is the meat of the Christian life.

 

I have thought, somehow, that it laid in clenching your eyes closed, knowing the onslaught of life would come and somehow you just have to survive until the end when you get to go to heaven.

 

But this picture is different. He calls us to be life givers. Rivers of life. When I have my eyes clenched closed I can’t see the people around me much less see their need. When I am only braced to survive, I can’t live from a place of power. I am a victim instead.

 

So He calls me to believe. He calls me to look for Him and what He is doing, His kingdom coming. He asks me to take action as I believe, stepping forward when it feels counter to my instincts. He calls me to see and speak out and expect His goodness. This is faith. The expectation of His goodness.

 

 

“I would have despaired had I not believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for and confidently expect the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage; yes wait for and confidently expect the Lord” Psalm 27;13-14



1st Grade

Dear Ellie,

 

Today is your first day of 1st grade. It feels so much easier than last year to know you will wake up, eat breakfast, put your clothes on and head out the door to school. I know more about this school thing and what it looks like. I’m thankful for that.

 

You, of course, are excited as ever. You have missed your friends and all that school is. You are planning to wear the same dress you wore the first day of kindergarten, though it is considerably shorter on you and you will need to wear leggings. It is still your favorite dress.

 

You learned how to read in kindergarten and now love LOVE to read. You proudly declare, to anyone who will listen, that you can read CHAPTER books. I love to walk by your room and see you cozied up with a book. I hope you always love to read and that you continue to be a life long learner. Books are such a gift.

 

What hasn’t changed about this year is that I will miss you. I have loved this summer with you at home. You and the boys have built endless forts, done 3,000 drawing/color fests (but seriously. What do we do with all of the masterpieces?), and of course had many many fights. I won’t miss the fights. I will miss the sweetness you bring, the good ideas you have, and just your presence.

 

You lost approximately 7 teeth over the summer, leaving your smile gappy and adorable. You also learned how to whistle (perhaps from the extreme tooth exodus?) Your eyes still reflect every emotion you feel and it’s so fun to watch you tell a story because you are so expressive.

 

You and Judah were in a wedding a few weeks ago and you had the best time. You both looked adorable in your wedding wear and you took your petal distributing job very seriously. At the reception they had lots of dancing which you and Judah also loved. You were out there with the other flower girl having a  wonderful time on the dance floor.

 

When the time came for the Parent/bride/groom dances I was in the back trying to keep Annalise quiet. She and I swayed at the back and I found myself glimpsing something that had such depths and that I had never noticed before. Parents saying goodbye to a season. I couldn’t actually look too long because the lump in my throat was so big.

 

It’s all so good! It’s so good and right for children to grow and become adults and get married. But as I stood there in the back, listening to the words of the song:

 

Never alone

Never alone

I’ll be in every beat of your heart

When you face the unknown

Wherever you fly

This isn’t goodbye

My love will follow you, stay with you

Baby, you’re never alone – Lady Antebellum

 

I had to turn away. This parenting thing is so crazy! The love I feel inside for you is so big. It’s such a gift to be your mama, to have this time with you. I can’t lose perspective in the everyday. I can’t forget that my time with you in this season is limited. I cherish you baby girl. So help me, I promise to let you go when the time is right.

 

I’m thankful I have some years before I have my turn watching you dance with daddy on that special someday. For now my heart can hardly handle the thought. And that’s okay. From now until then I’m going to LOVE this season the way you love reading chapter books. I’m going to soak in the sparkle in your eyes and the gaps in your teeth. I’m going to snuggle you close as much as I can and learn to trust Jesus even more as you have opportunities to fly.

 

I truly know that seasons are part of the beauty of life. This one feels wrapped around my heart in such a way that I can’t explain. I’ll embrace it. I’ll embrace the lump in my throat and the tears on my cheeks as I write this because it’s evidence of beauty of motherhood. Made to love and protect with our very breath. Made to raise them to fullness and step back and let them go. The diamond tears are okay, the beautiful hurt a memorial stone.

 

I love you baby girl. Maybe someday you will call me as your baby heads out the door to school and you and we can laugh and cry together and I will tell you it’s okay to cry, but it’s also so good to laugh and embrace the beauty of the moment.

 

Love,

 

Mama



The deep end.

Typewriter1

Writing is hard. It’s not hard to put words on a screen, but it’s hard to not put my identity in my audience response.

And I wonder why I write? Do I write for that response? Or do I really love writing?

Is it appropriate to write for an audience? Is there a time and place for that? Or should I only ever write because my heart longs to give words to what is inside. I long to read what I feel – like I can’t quite understand or have clarity until I have encased it in words.

Being willing to share my heart encased in words and offer it to the world around me serves a greater purpose than me. It gives others an opportunity to say “me too”, and potentially passes hope, like a baton, to another.

That is why I should write.

I’m not going to lie. This is a bit of a paradox. To truly write well and to be free in writing I must write for that last mentioned reason. And often when you offer your heart encased in words your audience responds positively because they can connect. But my writing isn’t pure or right when I am  motivated by people.

So how do I keep the freedom and the purity? It has to be by writing everyday and writing what is inside and choosing to not follow the stat trends and people-response. This is hard for me. It doesn’t come naturally. I like to know how people are responding. However, I know if I am led by the cause of pleasing people that I will eventually stop writing. My purpose will ebb and flow like the tide and it will cease to actually reach people. It becomes manufactured and faux.

We must do our work for a greater cause. We must create out of freedom. We must reach past our audience and fans and critics and step deeper in the actual calling. We are all called to create. Creating innately gives us a deep sense of fulfillment, but also fills a hole in the world around us. Lives can be touched and changed by our willingness to create and share that creativity with the world around us.

However God has called you to create must be done at a level deeper than the shallow end of the pool where your feet touch and all applaud. We must venture to the place where it takes faith to move forward. We have to paddle awkwardly sometimes and there may be a time where it feels frantic. We may have seasons where no one watches or if they are watching they are not applauding but rather booing or naysaying.

Pressing through, not retreating, learning to swim, learning to float, continuing to be challenged is where we do our best work. And we must “do work” to do our best work.

The deep end is where our destinies are made and where future generations are touched.

I want that.

 



Risk.

Risk. The idea both enlivens me and terrifies me. I’m reading this book by Robby Dawkins called “do what Jesus did” and it’s challenging me. This quote:

 

“Faith is simply one step of certainty against the onslaught of uncertainty. The question isn’t, are we willing to die for Christ? The question is, are we willing to live a life of risk for Him?” – Robby Dawkins

 

I kind of prefer the no-risk side of the tracks. Maybe it’s because I’m a mom and I feel this innate need to keep my kids safe. The no-risk side of the tracks is predictable – I know what to expect here. It seems safe and I feel comfortable.

 

However. There is a miserable boring-ness here.

 

I know that truly saying yes to Jesus will take me places I never dreamed I would go.  I know that saying yes to Jesus means “No reserves, no retreats no regrets”. (A quote from Bill Borden – Thank you Robby Dawkins)

 

No reserves. This means I let Jesus have all of my heart. I give Him access to all. His healing seeps into every part. I hold nothing back.

 

No retreats. I burn the boat. I am committed to Him no matter what comes.

 

No regrets. I let Him show me how worthy He is. I let His goodness and faithfulness fill my vision.

 

I am a middle aged stay at home mom with 4 littles. Some days I don’t even step outside the house. My world feels very small at times. But there is still something in this risk idea that is beckoning to me. I can risk with Jesus. I can put my hand in His and say “yes”. Yes to time in His presence. Yes to hearing His voice. Yes to what He asks of me. Filled so full that serving others is natural. Loved so deeply that letting go of all that I hold dear is instinct.

 

I love this upside down kingdom so much. It confuses and overwhelms me in such a good way. Let go of your life and you will find it. Wash others feet and you will be great in the kingdom. If you want to be first, be content to be last and be a servant to all. Come to Jesus like a child – in simple faith instead of an important-in-your-own eyes person.

 

Come out of your comfort zone. Cross over to the risk side of the tracks.

 

No reserves.

 

No retreats.

 

No regrets.