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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

My sweet Grammie slipped home yesterday. It’s hard to process what this means. Our minds don’t seem to be equipped to understand death. How someone can be so present and real and then truly absent from their earthly body?

As my Grandma lay in that hospital bed the last few days she was surrounded by those she loved best. They kept vigil with her through a day, a very long night and another very long day. It is so right to be surrounded by those you love as you step out of your earthly body. My Grandma lived a wonderful full long life. There is no sense of days being cut short, but more a beauty of a life well lived.

My Grandpa passed away three years before and the thought of joyous reunion is so glorious. As natural people, when we think of heaven, our minds go to those we know who have gone before. But lets be real. All of those people take a back seat when it comes to being face to face with the One who loves us the most and gave everything so that we could live forever with Him. I can only imagine it was the thing that completed Grammie. What incredible satisfaction and fullness to be with Him!

And here we wait. Us left behind. I indeed wept this week. Not as much for Grammie, but more for the ones she leaves. Saying goodbye, even for a season, is so hard. It felt impossible to me. I couldn’t say goodbye to my mom. A mother fills a place in you that no one else can. She is made to be a constant place of safety and protection. She is also made to speak truth – hard truth and yet life giving truth. She is the one you call and can call for no reason at all, or in the worst of times when all you have is deep sobs. So I ache for my dad. I ache for my aunts as they walk this road. It is paved with goodness as my Grammie loved them all fiercely and loyally. It is paved with sweet memories and funny ones, and they now will live with a mother shaped hole. In the best way possible. They have been loved so well. They will miss so well because of that love. And indeed it is not a forever separation. Oh the crazy joy that is set before us! Because. wow. Jesus. and everyone else will be sweet details to the incredible fullness we will know being with Him. What joy. What JOY we have. What hope!

And in the mean time we will allow the aching and hurt because we have been loved well by a beautiful person and we will miss her presence for a season. But we will continue to walk, resolved to love our children as well, Resolved to leave legacies as beautiful as she was. Resolved that our children will be loved so well that our absence will leave a hole but also an incredible joy in the hope ahead and the strength it brings.

I found that with my own Mom I couldn’t say goodbye in those last moments. There were no words. But in that hour after she passed i snuck back to her bedside and said all the things. All the things were really quite simple. How much I loved her and how deeply thankful I was for her love. Her love made me. In so many ways. Her love still gives me strength. I said goodbye to a shell. I said goodbye after she was gone because somehow when her spirit remained I knew it was never goodbye. It was just a “see you soon”.

So Grammie. I never said goodbye either. But what I want to say is that i love you and I am so thankful for the beautiful family you built and loved. Thank you for being such a strong woman and for loving Jesus with your life. Thank you for speaking of Him often. It is ingrained my head. We will miss you so. We will miss your pink nail polish and your beautiful hands and the glint in your eyes. We will miss the parcheesi games and the laughs and the smell of your perfume. I can’t wait to see you soon. Say hi to Mom, and Grandpa and baby Zeke and above all enjoy Him. We can’t wait to join the party.

1) Judah’s excessively loud singing. Mostly he sings worship songs, sometimes mashed into a brilliant medley, occasionally sprinkled with a line or two from Frozen. We could all stand to “let it go” a little bit, right? Judah starts his day around 6:30, bellowing his songs from the crib – it’s hard to describe just how loud he is, our neighbors could probably add some adjectives here. He also plays air guitar on his crib, and wildly shakes his blonde, home cut locks.

2.) The “joke” stage. If you have never experienced the joke stage, its a good place to practice all your different kinds of laughs. Some jokes are real (Ellie gets it most of the time) some of them are made up. (Judah, all of the time) Each requires an appreciative laugh at the punch line. It goes something like this.

Ellie: “Mom, I’ve got a funny joke for you. How do you make a tissue dance?”

Me: How?

Ellie “You put a little boogie in it.

Me: (chuckle)

Then Judah pipes in: “Mom, I’ve a got a funny joke for you. Why did the pizza get caught in the net?

Me: Tell me!

Judah: (looking around for inspiration) because the elephant was chasing it!!

Me: (Hearty har har har har)

3.) Caleb’s chub. This boy is almost 1. Skin so soft, cheeks still pudgy. I savor them. Thank You Jesus for making babies so squishy.

4.) My husband who is such a teammate on this parenting adventure. Poopy diapers? He’s a champ. 4 year old irrational tears? He’s got it. Soft logical tones that bring rightness to the situation. Judah singing loudly at 6:30 in the morning? He often pulls himself out of bed so I can sleep a little longer. I also love laughing with him countless times a day (at the kids jokes) and at the things they say and do. When you plan a wedding, and walk down an aisle there is no way to anticipate what life will bring your way, or how together you will navigate it. I am so thankful for this man who takes life head on and is such a team player.

5.) Being able to experience grace. Being a parent is crazy. You so badly want to be awesome. The awesomest awesome that ever was because you want the best for your kids. It doesn’t take too long to realize that the personal awesome level doesn’t magically increase in the delivery room when your baby is born. This can be an emotional and guilt filled roller coaster if you are constantly measuring your awesome level and never achieving awesomely awesome. One of the best things I have ever done as a parent is to start to study grace. God’s grace to me. This is life changing on a few levels. a) His grace changes me by focusing me on Him and all that He is, and off my not awesomeness. b) When I live in, and receive His grace, I am able to pour it out. It’s the proverbial cup over flowing. And man, do we not all need grace? My kids need grace! My husband needs grace. And I desperately need grace. Grace doesn’t ignore sin or brokenness. Truth is truth. Grace brings an overwhelming hope to the sin and brokenness. The blood of Jesus is enough. Man, I love grace.

There it is. Just my small smattering of thankfulness on these eve of Mothers day.