it's okay.

her brown curls frame her pink cheeks, eyelashes splayed in slumber.  the weight of her body rests on my chest, and i hear the creak of the rocking chair that has held me and both of my babies in these quiet moments.  they say not to move a sleeping baby, but i pay no attention to that rule.  because i love to hold my girls while they're sleeping.  stealing any chance to hold them still against my heart, kiss their cheeks and brush their foreheads gently.  it's the perfect ending to days that are filled with sweeping up crumbs, kissing hurt fingers and bumped knees.  yelling out reminders of rules and breaking up sister squabbles.  it all melts into the silent peace that is rocking my sleeping child and memorizing their features, their breaths...this moment.

i lay her back down in her crib, heart full, and her eyes flutter for a moment and then open to gaze into mine.  thumb in mouth, she softly moves her other fingers in a wave to me, as she turns and drifts back to sleep.  sweetest thing ever.  that little wave.

i tiptoe out of her room and slide into my bed under a pile of covers and thank Jesus for moments like these.  moments that make a week full of tears and frustration worth it.  moments that remind me this is a season of such a mix of emotions.

and it's okay.

the stomach bug swept through our house last week and i was the only one left standing.  by the time nick was sick, i was feeling pretty sorry for myself.  the one lost in endless laundry, multiple bed changes, catching throw up in any possible way i could to keep it from getting on pajamas, blankies or dolls.  by sunday morning i couldn't stop the endless flow of tears from pouring out.

pure exhaustion seeping out everywhere.  grief that cripples me at times.  it's been two and a half years and i still miss my dad so much it's hard for me to catch my breath sometimes.  it's an agonizing pain that feels as though i will crush under the weight of it.  the hurt is inexplicable--even to myself--but i try to get the words out so i'm not bottling them up inside.  in between sips of coffee and shoulders heaving, i manage a few sentences to my patient husband, listening gently.

my sweet girls crawl up in my lap.  arms looped around my neck.  big, brown eyes looking up at my tear filled ones.  "mama, why are you sad?" and "ok, mum-mum?" with looks of genuine concern.  and it breaks my heart.

it breaks my heart because i feel guilty.  guilty that i'm crying because of a week of caring for the ones i love most.  guilty that i have seasons of such pain and brokenness from missing my dad that i may be lacking something as their mom.  fear that i don't always have enough to give to them.  worry that it won't get easier.  complete and utter sadness that my sweet girls have missed out on so much without their bampy, who was just itching to make so many memories with them.  the list goes on and on and on...

i'm realizing how much i try to do on my own.  how often i don't rely on the One whose strength and power is of endless supply.  and just how much i need Him and all He has for me... as a wife, a mama, a daughter, a sister, a friend...

i'm also realizing how much god uses my girls to bless my heart.  he reminds me that he works in their lives in spite of their flawed and imperfect mama; that their well being does not rest entirely on my shoulders.  that he can use my broken, tear filled moments.  and just when i feel as though i'm falling short of pouring into my babies, i hear her voice--tiny and sweet--singing those precious words; words that bring such a sense of calm to my guilt-ridden mama heart: "oh how i yuv jesus!  oh how i yuv jesus because he first yuved meee!"  my almost two year old, singing out from her crib. 

god working in my children, in spite of their tired, broken, selfish, completely imperfect mama.

this season of life is hard.  there are moments every day where i feel like i am failing.  where my house is a mess, laundry is never caught up and my kids watch way more television than i want them to watch in a day.  but i'm learning: it's okay.  that's the beauty of my Jesus: He gives what i cannot give and supplies for my children in ways far greater than i ever could in my limited humanity.  He is the one that never changes and is my rock in the times where i feel as though i am sinking.

"my hope is built on nothing less
thank Jesus' blood and righteousness
i dare not trust the sweetest frame,
but wholly trust in Jesus' name

when darkness seems to hide his face

i rest in his unchanging grace

in every high and stormy gale

my anchor holds within the veil.

Christ alone, cornerstone
weak made strong in the Savior's love
through the storm, He is Lord, Lord of all"

hope.

we are in the midst of the christmas season, and yet i am heartbroken.  saddened.  sickened by what happened in that elementary school last friday.  it's like a constant weight... a cloud over my thoughts.  i've been struggling to grasp it all; unwilling to accept that this is the evil world in which we live.  in which we are raising our babies in.

as a mama, and also the wife of a school teacher and a school counselor myself, it's certain that the events of last week have spun my fear and anxiety into action.  it's easy to let my thoughts race and my imagination go to unthinkable places, and i've had to guard against becoming victim to those dark corners in my mind.  

still, those thoughts are very present.  

i can't help but notice that others are feeling and experiencing the same reactions.  heartbroken for those families, saddened for the town, and deeply fearful that it will happen again.

to help guard my thoughts and mind against paralyzing fear, i've been trying to counteract my anxiety with truth.  the truth is, not everyone in this world is evil.  in fact, the very same day that shooter took the lives of innocent precious ones, several staff people gathered at my school and spent the day wrapping gifts for some of our students who are in need.  it was honestly my favorite day of being on staff at my little elementary school.  we filled giant bags to the brim of wrapped gifts for about twenty families in our school.  the gifts were all bought by staff people, and their families and friends.  time and money generously given up.  sacrifice in order to bless others.

kindness still exists.  

our security may be shaken, but it has never (or should never) rest in man.  our security rests in the hope of jesus' return.

my father and i sang this old christmas hymn as a duet on a couple different occassions in church during the christmas season when i was growing up.  i can still hear his strong, bass voice belting out the words, and it gives me great comfort.  he no longer has to wait for jesus' return; he is already sitting at his feet.  rocking and singing in the ears of a few of those sweet students, no doubt.  having that picture in my mind brings tears to my eyes.

"come, thou long expected jesus,

born to set thy people free;

from our fears and sins release us,

let us find our rest in thee.

israel's strength and consolation,

hope of all the earth thou art;

dear desire of every nation,

joy of every longing heart.

born thy people to deliver,

born a child and yet a king.

born to reign in us forever,

now thy gracious kingdom bring.

by thine own eternal spirit

rule in all our hearts alone;

by thine all sufficient merit,

raise us to they glorious throne."

(come, thou long-expected jesus)

take care of yourself today.  guard your heart and your mind; counteract your fear with truth.  do something kind for someone else.  hug your loved ones.  say "i love you".  make memories.  count your blessings.  and remember that darkness will not win; jesus has overcome the world.  and he is our hope and peace.

*note: for those of you struggling to reconcile these words, god, and the newtown tragedy, please give this article a read.  i've battled for years the complicated balance of god's sovereignty and man's freedom to choose.  i don't think i'll ever fully understand it, but this article so eloquently expresses everything i've been unable to put into words.  

homesick.

it hasn't even been two months since dad has passed. and in some ways it feels like years. grieving is such a long, slow process. and i'm okay with that. i don't think there will ever be a day that i don't miss my dad--for the rest of my life. i think there will always be a gaping hole where he would have been. sure, it won't always feel so raw and painful. but i'll miss him every day until i get to see him again.

my dad was my rock. he was the first man that ever loved me, took care of me, protected me, made me feel safe. and the only man in my life until there was nick. and he didn't come along until i was twenty six. dad was in so many ways my best friend, my confidant, my source of wisdom in countless things. i still can't watch a football game without wanting to call him after to discuss. or simply thinking of doing tax season without him to consult with throws me into a complete frenzy. and when i have a bad day, or am struggling with trusting god in something i usually first think "i wonder what dad would tell me" since i called him many, many times on those rough days. one of the last things i said to him before he passed was how proud i was of him... that he was my hero. he always has been from the time i was a little girl, and always will be until i'm wrinkly and gray.

nearly every day something happens that causes me to break down; and it's usually a song i hear on the radio. today, i heard "homesick" by mercy me on the way home from school and just dissolved into tears. but i forced myself to keep listening because it's such a beautiful song. and it speaks so directly to the pain i'm feeling. here are the lyrics:

""you're in a better place, i've heard a thousand times
and at least a thousand times i've rejoiced for you
but the reason why i'm broken, the reason why i cry
is how long must i wait to be with you.

i close my eyes and i see your face
if home's where my heart is than i'm out of place
lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
i've never been more homesick than now.

help me lord cause i don't understand your ways
the reason why i wonder if i'll ever know
but, even if you showed me, the hurt would be the same
cause i'm still here, so far away from home.

in christ, there are no goodbyes
and in christ, there is no end
so i'll hold onto jesus with all that i have
to see you again...

i close my eyes and i see your face
if home's where my heart is than i'm out of place
lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
i've never been more homesick than now."

you can listen to it here. such a pretty, pretty song... heartache filled with *hope*. that is how the grieving process is when we know our loved ones are with jesus. does it bring comfort? absolutely. does it stop the pain? not a chance. we are still bound by our earthly mindsets and missing the ones that we love so dearly. as christians i feel as though sometimes we do each other a disservice trivializing the loss of others by saying cliche things about not mourning because they are in heaven. scripture tells us to "grieve not as those who have no hope". our grief will look different, but it's still painful. it's still a process.

and that is okay. jesus understands. and he meets us right there in our pain.

it's been less than two months and i feel as though life has moved on for everyone but me and my family. which is true. it has. and that's the hard part. i know i've moved on while others have been grieving too. it's natural, i guess. although i hope my response will be different the next time i walk through this with a friend. i don't want people to forget to pray for us. that there are days where we feel utterly broken and shattered by all that we have lost in my dad. that every day we have to face life without a man that we loved so dearly.

i'm just beginning to unpack all of the emotions that have been filling my heart for the past couple of months. i know it's a process, so i'll just keep walking and keep trusting jesus. one day at a time.

refreshing words {hope of heaven}.

life seems heavy sometimes. there are days when it seems too much to bear... it doesn't make sense... where grief can seem to outweigh blessings.

i've been reminded of this lately. so many stories, so much suffering. amidst the struggles and trials of life, there is one thing every human needs in order to keep on going: hope. hope is what tells us that life won't always hurt. that it won't always feel so heavy. that it won't always seem this dark.

this too, shall pass.

i love this devotional i read a couple of days ago...

"hope is the golden cord connecting you to heaven. this cord helps you hold your head up high, even when multiple trials are buffeting you. i never leave your side, and i never let go of your hand. but without the cord of hope, your head may slump and your feet may shuffle as you journey uphill with me. hope lifts your perspective from your weary feet to the glorious view you can see from the high road. you are minded that the road we're traveling together is ultimately a highway to heaven. when you consider this radiant destination, the roughness or smoothness of the road ahead becomes much less significant. i am training you to hold in your heart a dual focus: my continual presence and the hope of heaven."

(romans 12:12: rejoicing in hope, persevering in tribulation, devoted to prayer...

1 thessalonians 5:8: but since we are of the day, let us be sober, having put on the breastplate of faith and love, and as a helmet, the hope of salvation.

hebrews 6:18-19: so that by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for god to lie, we who have taken refuge would have strong encouragement to take hold of the hope set before us. this hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast and one which enters within the veil.)

irving bible church in irving, texas was the place where nick&i met, we established deep friendships, and were employed and involved in several ministries. we just heard this week that the youth group there is grieving the loss of one of their students, friends, brothers. please be praying for this young man's family as well as the youth group at ibc. these things never make sense... pray these kids are held in the grace and peace of jesus, and that in him, they would find hope.

multitude monday.

146. bella in her easter dress.

147. watching "passion of the christ" with nick (and lots of tissues).

148. reeses pieces eggs.

149. the sight of a wooden cross.

150. old easter hymns.

151. celebrating the resurrection of my king gathered in community with others.

152. the fact that jesus triumphed over death... and what that means.

153. hope.

"darkness gives way to light. despair gives way to hope. fear gives way to peace. sorrow gives way to joy. because he is alive."

jesus loves me, this i know.

"for god so loved the world, he gave his one and only son that whoever believe in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." (john 3:16)

a couple of months ago, nick and i sat in complete shock and horror as we watched a secular newsreporter interview the people of westboro baptist church for a television documentary. we. were. stunned.

stunned.

even now as i think about this church and what it stands for, my stomach feels sick. we sat, staring at the television, as we watched the church's parishoners excitedly (yes, excitedly) tell someone that they were going to hell because "god hated them." i'm sure you've heard of them by now, but this church is so full of hate and twistedness that they protest fallen soldiers funerals, mocking their grieving families.

how does the gospel and love and grace of jesus become so twisted? and how can people believe such hate and ignorance as truth?

i am embarrassed that these people call themselves a "church".

{note to anyone who is completely turned off to god because of church-goers like these: this is NOT jesus. this is corrupted, sinful man. this is NOT the gospel. this is human ignorance and deception. this is NOT truth. this is absolute-perversion-of-the-truth}

thank goodness jesus is NOT the church. the church is made up of people. sure, people striving to be more like christ. but still, people, nonetheless. and people will always let us down.

now, allow me a few seconds to get my thoughts together and my blood to cool from it's boiling point...

okay. i think i'm ready.

as much as this congregation of people angers me, and as much as i *completely* and wholeheartedly (notice my enthusiasm as i state this!) disagree and abhor what they are saying and what they stand for, i pray that i can have compassion on these people. clearly, they are lost. they have chosen to believe lies instead of truth. and how often do i become prey to the same trap?

the past couple of weeks i have been struggling with fear. thank goodness i now know how to better work through my fear then i did a few years ago so that it doesn't completely overtake me (thanks to god's healing work on my heart and a wonderful counselor)... but i have moments where i slip back into a fearful mindset. it usually happens around the new year, as i anticipate what the next 12 months will hold. i think too much. i try to prepare myself for whatever *may* be around the corner. and sometimes i just need to trust. and trust is where it gets tricky for me. that's where the fear sets in.

{you're thinking to yourself right about now... and this girl used to get paid to counsel other people??! yes i did... and i'm a big believer in knowing your brokenness and allowing god to use you... not in spite of, but sometimes because of}

as i spent some quiet time with god this morning while bella was still sleeping, i talked to him about all the lies that are in my head. because when i believe the lies, i give into my fears. lies that i can't really trust god. lies that he doesn't really have good plans in store for my future. lies that if i trust him with the unknown future, the bottom will somehow fall out.

does this sound like the god of the bible?? the god who "LOVES me with an everlasting love and draws me in with loving-kindness" (jer 31:3). the god who says "you are precious and honored in my sight and i love you" (is. 43:4). the god who delights in me (zeph 3:17), knows every hair that is on my head (luke 12:7), formed me in my mothers womb and ordained all of my days (psalm 139) and satisfies my desires with good things (psalm 103:5)?

no, sometimes my god sounds much more like the god of the westboro baptist church. and i know that's not god at all.

i know i need to continually cling to scripture to remind myself of the TRUTH of who god is. my god does not hate, he loves. he does not destroy, he redeems. today i have been *overwhelmed* with love for my pudgy little daughter. this morning i stood in the kitchen while i was getting her bottle ready, tears in my eyes as i watched her sitting on the floor, playing with her toys and babbling to herself. every few seconds, she'd turn around to gaze at me just to make sure i was still there. laughter would dance in her eyes, and her face broke out in the sweetest smile just to know that i was there... i hadn't left her, i was going to feed her, take care of her, love on her, and provide for her. all day god has been saying to me: "this love you have for your daughter? it's only a fraction of the love i have for you."

if i remember god in that way, it's much easier to trust. of course i would be scared to trust a god who hates, a god who is full of only wrath, a god who doesn't care about me or my fragile heart?

i leave you with the sweetest picture. i just checked on bella, sleeping in her crib and i took this. it's a reminder to me of how peacefully she sleeps, knowing she is loved... trusting that she is being provided for...

...and this is how i can rest in my heavenly father; fully knowing that he is a god who LOVES; for the bible tells me so.

"for i know the plans i have for you, declares the lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future. then you will call upon me, and come and pray to me. you will seek me and find me when you seek me will all your heart." (jer. 29:11-13)