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.


The Best is Yet to Come


Today marks 13 years since my mom passed away. Death anniversaries are hard. For me they are full of painful memories from that July day. Last moments with one of the people that has left the greatest mark on my life.

Historically when this anniversary has rolled around I have allowed myself to remember and taken time alone to grieve. This year however, it snuck up on me.

When I realized that today was the day, something different settled over me. There will always be grief. I will always miss her until I see her face again. This means tears of sadness and sometimes wracking sobs.

But today also marks a celebration. A finish line. A graduation. She is home. She ran the race, she finished well and now – now she sees fully. She gets to spend every moment in the Presence of Perfect Love. She has no wish to come back! She is complete and missing nothing.

Her journey spurs me on. It reminds me of what is true. It’s true that we are living for eternity. This life is but a second and the end is so beautiful!

Sometimes I forget. Sometimes I cling so tight to what I cannot hold on to: this life! Clinging so tight creates fear and anxiety as I can’t actually attain or control earthly-forever-living.

As I thought on this today it became so clear in my heart. My grief is not diminished by this celebration. Rather I feel that it’s just suiting today, to remember the glory. And to remember what lays in front of me. I want to let go more, live harder and love better because the best is yet to come!

“For if you let your life go for My sake and for the sake of the gospel, you will continually experience true life. But if you choose to keep your life for yourself, you will forfeit what you try to keep” Mark 8:35-36 TPT


I watch them. Their delight and joy in simple things. The lack of fear or dread of the future. My kids live in the moment. All in the moment. They take my word and believe it.


I crave this simplicity. I want it! It is offered to me! Jesus offers to me to live with the faith, joy, fearlessness of a child. A child isn’t usually fearless because they are so strong and armoured and battle savvy. A child is fearless because Daddy holds their hand. Because Daddy fights for them. Because Daddy is their resource.  


I have felt so weighted. I have felt like I had to protect my heart and always be on alert for new sources of pain. I have felt like I had to do whatever I could to foresee pain – as if somehow seeing it coming will help the blow. The anticipation of possible pain is tormenting and no way to live!


I have the best husband. When I was in labor with baby number 3, I had all the monitors attached to my belly and we could see the contractions charting on the screen. As I was waiting not-so-patiently for my epidural, my sweet husband, who loves gadgety things was watching the monitors. Every time a contraction would start he would comment and tell me what type it looked like. “Oh man – this is a BIG one coming!”. This commentary, though ever so helpfully intended, was not helping my laboring process! The anticipation of contraction strength didn’t make my laboring easier. Nor does anticipating pain in my life.


When my kids get hurt, they trust mom and dad to get them whatever they need. Whether that is a band-aid or to a dr for open heart surgery. So does our Daddy.


My Abba is the best daddy. So I want to trust Him more. I want to live in childlike joy and simplicity because He is so good. All of this is offered to me. Will I step into it today in faith? Freedom, peace, healing, everything I need, because He is my Daddy and He is with me.

Hope in the moments

Vacation is happening at the beach. How glorious it is! I am so thankful for this time with my precious little family.

Judah is such a little chunk of deliciousness, and Ellie daily makes us laugh with the things she says. She persistently calls the elevator the “alligator” and everyday we ride the alligator down to the beach.

Clearly waking up at the beach is the best!



Sunset light


Sunset from our deck


Early morning


Reading books with Poppa
Love these boys


Sunset is an event worth pausing for here


Preparing for the beach


Sweet boy


Doing puzzles

I find myself trying to freeze moments here, never wanting to forget. Never wanting to lose “right here right now” and yet the moments go by.

I think this desire to capture moments stems from my own loss. I can remember one night not long before my mom passed away she went to bed early and hurting. I crawled in bed with her and gently rubbed her back sensing that my time with her was short. I remember desperately wanting time to stop. Never wanting to lose her soft presence, never wanting her quiet breathing to stop. Yet the same time that marched on and brought a death that I desperately didn’t want,  has also brought gentle healing. Time brings a buffer between the sharpness of grief and the raw heart.

Now as I watch my babies play, shrieks of joy, cackles of laughter, unaware of loss, I find myself wanting the moments to never stop. Never wanting them to experience grief or sadness. Yet I know almighty God holds them tight, makes a way through, will bring victory in all their losses. Oh I have hope! As I journey this road I purpose to teach these sweet ones to not fear the future, to not fear the moments but to live in them fully savoring them.

Hope in the moments. This means thanking God for the moments I have and believing Jesus for His mighty power to be seen in my future. God of the impossible. God of hope.

 Now thanks be to God who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and through us diffuses the fragrance of His knowledge in every place. 2 Corinthians 2:14 NKJ




God of the impossible

I sat outside this morning before the house woke up enjoying the quiet and my coffee. I found myself jotting down the thoughts that were rolling around in my head. Longing for justice in this world where injustice abounds. Crying out for healing where so much sickness is present.  And as I wrote I felt the Holy Spirit speak to my heart. “See as I see. You will see possibility where only impossibility resided”. And immediately He brought two scriptures to mind. Ezekiel 37 the valley of dry bones. What could be more dead or hopeless then a valley of bones? No life, no hope of life, only dead skeleton bones. And yet God speaks and bones come together, skulls find their vertebrae, muscles grow, skin forms and lastly breath is breathed into these new bodies. Life, hope, and an army is born out of the impossible.

The second passage He brought to mind was 2 Kings 6:14-17 the story of Elisha and his servant waking up one morning to find the city they were staying in surrounded by “troops, horses and chariots everywhere”. Elisha’s servant is understandably panicked:

 “Oh, sir, what will we do now?” the young man cried to Elisha.

“Don’t be afraid!” Elisha told him. “For there are more on our side than on theirs!” Then Elisha prayed, “O Lord, open his eyes and let him see!” The Lord opened the young man’s eyes, and when he looked up, he saw that the hillside around Elisha was filled with horses and chariots of fire.

I find so much life in these words and find myself praying that my eyes would be opened and that I would see. To see as He sees and to take heart. To not be afraid. To believe for the impossible.


My hope is built on nothing less


My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
but wholly trust in Jesus’ name

Christ alone, Cornerstone
Weak made strong, in the Savior’s love
Through the storm
He is Lord, Lord of All

This is the first verse and chorus of the song “Cornerstone” off the new Hillsong album. I listened today while I mopped the floor, enjoying the familiar words of the verses and my heart agreeing as we got to the chorus. There are so many different things to love about worship music, and about worshiping Jesus. One of those things is how when we sing the words we are reminded of what is truly true. We live in such a fallen broken world that sometimes we lose sight of truth. Being reminded increases our faith and I believe actually changes us. I have felt so broken by the unresolved things around me. People that I love hurting, sick, broken. I am drawn today by hope. He is the hope of all the brokeness that I can ever see or feel. Christ alone.

When darkness seems to hide His face
I rest on His unchanging grace
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil

Then He shall come with trumpets sound
Oh, may I then in Him be found
Dressed in His righteousness alone
faultless, stand before the throne

Romans 15:13
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.