Finding Your Value

My writing has been hit or miss the past year.  I apologize.  It's been a year when my heart's been heavy and so many of the things in my mind have felt too personal to share or have been bits and pieces of other people's stories, and I haven't felt it was mine to tell.  So I've been waiting.  Waiting for inspiration or some brilliant thing to come upon me that would certainly be compelling enough to warrant a blog post.

But for the most part, nothing came.

I sat and stared at the screen.  I typed words, and then I hit backspace until the page was white again.  And I shut the computer down.

I've felt a little inadequate sometimes, to tell the truth.

My reality was shattered to bits by moments spent on the other side of the planet. Standing on a hilltop in a Ukrainian village whose name I still can't pronounce, looking past the smoke from burning trash piles to make out the tiny white speck of a building I was told by the boy standing with me had been his mother's home.  I stood there and caught my breath in my throat, because in that moment he stood beside one who desired to be a mom to him and could not be, because of governments and aging-out of adoption eligibility, looking out at one of the remaining bits of visible connection to a mother who had passed away.  And I just have struggled with how to reconcile all this in my mind, even though I know we live in a broken, hurting world.  

I wondered how many times he'd climbed that hill and looked at that house.

His village is a thousand years old.  We were jokingly told we may have been the first Americans to go there.  (I wonder if it's maybe true.)

We ate fresh sunflower seeds, plucked from the gigantic center of a flower he pulled out of a seemingly endless field of yellow.

It's these moments that have sort of tripped me up this year.

But they weren't all heavy.

We had a good laugh that my husband ate the shell of the sunflower seed, and that I ate the skin of a grape (and lived to tell... we Americans... I tell you what), and we all thought it was funny that we were in great anticipation of a small-town parade when we heard horns and sirens ringing out when in truth it was some sort of Ukrainian signal that you could take your garbage to be disposed of.

When I came home I cried.  And I pushed the Lord to please do something.  Anything.  Give me something to "do" so I feel better about all of this.  Give us an adoption plan.  Give me a ministry opportunity. Something.  Something to be busy and to feel productive.

But I'm learning again to quiet that and to wait. And that's not really my strength, but it's something I am developing with practice, this waiting and this patience. (If you haven't yet, I highly recommend NOT praying for patience.... really.  Anything but patience.  There must be oodles of things God develops in us that are more fun to develop than patience...)

And somewhere in the midst of my stubborn nagging of the Lord to let me remind him of his will and to be sure he knew how very good and well thought out all my plans are for my life, He reminded me of something.

I already have something to do.

I already have a ministry.

He's been whispering to my heart about how my eyes sometimes are focused too far out ahead of me.  So I've pulled back.  And I've been renewing my focus on home and family and the things that are right this minute my work and my offering to him.  And all of these things - these children, this man, our home - are gifts to my life from a really loving and gracious God.  A God who gives good things.  Who is good always.

Last night, I went into a small group class at church called Christianity in the Marketplace.  So, yes, I partially went because I was a smidge shy to go into the women's Bible study alone.... I know, I know- I'm too old to be nervous to attend something without a friend.  But there you have it.  It's true.  So I tagged along with my husband to this class.  And you know what?  It was wonderful.

It was relevant for me.  Because I do have a marketplace.  It's my home.  And in that hour last night, as we heard teaching and as I read the familiar passage of scripture reminding me to "do everything as unto the Lord," I was so encouraged to see my "work" in a new light.  I was able to grab hold of the vision that I saw so clearly 4 years ago when I first stayed home full time.  God reminded me that what I do each day in my home, if I do it heartily and for Him, does have big impact and eternal value.

It's easy for us moms to sometimes forget that what we spend our days doing is of great value.  And I think sometimes the most critical voices we hear are our own.  We sometimes try so hard in our own strength to "make" something valuable of our lives and our time, when really, it's already that.  Because each of our moments is a gift from God.  And no matter what it is we do, when we do it fully and joyfully and diligently and heartily and "as unto the Lord," we can consider our days an offering to give back to the One who has given us this gift of today.

Today is beautiful.  I had coffee earlier than usual, and Sage and I made granola bars.  We took coffee to my husband at work.  Then we went to Target and chose some fun things to use making birthday gifts for my mom and grandmother.  Sage leaned her second memory verse of our "ABC's of Scripture," and she recited it while working diligently on her special gift.  She played the metal triangle instrument we found in the dollar section of Target spontaneously at a number of different occasions: to signal nap time, to signal prayer time, to signal that I could give her a kiss. (Now it's quiet upstairs, so I'm enjoying her sleeping after a 3 week stretch wherein I feared she'd outgrown nap time!)

I'd like to encourage you today to see your time and your life and your value as the Lord does.  Right now, today, you are in a place where God will use your energy and time and talents to be a blessing to others and an example of His love in this world.  Have you had any seasons of life that God has used to change how you see your time?  Are there any ways I can be praying for you today?

Driving Lessons from My Parents

Driving down Route 9, my learner's permit nestled proudly in my wallet, my dad in the passenger seat, I am riding the brakes, tentative, looking for the spot where I know the speed limit changes from 40 to 25mph. My dad opens the passenger door.  Just a little.  And he sticks his foot out.

"What are you DOING?"  I ask him.

"I'm just going to get out and walk," he replies, chuckling, "I'll wait for you when I get where we're going."  I shriek, "DAD!"  We laugh.  He knows we're going somewhere, and he's eager to keep moving.  He wants me to get to my destination.

Another day, driving past my high school with my mom, we approach the familiar railroad tracks.  She turns off the radio and starts rolling down the window.  She tells me that I need to come to a stop at the tracks, and I need to listen for a train, in case there's one coming, and I happen not to see it.  I oblige.  "You must be kidding."  But she isn't.  She knows I'm her only baby, and the thought of the flashing railroad lights being out of order and the chance that I might not see a train chugging down the tracks laid in the wide open field inspires her to come up with safety rules the Driver's Ed program clearly must have overlooked.  She wants me to be safe.

I laugh, thinking of my parents teaching me to drive.  I still talk to them about how to get where I'm going.

I talk to my mother about challenges and obstacles in the road.  How I want to avoid them.  My mom tells me that God is just as concerned with what I'm going through on the way to where I'm going as He is in getting me to a certain place.  She tells me that He uses the journey to prepare me for the destinations He has planned.  It's the bumps in the road that God uses to refine my character and to equip me.

My dad and I talk about dreams.  Things I'd love to pursue that are new and different.  He tells me to get on the road and start driving.  My dad says, "You can always make mid-course changes in direction.  But not if you're sitting in your car in the driveway."  He's still encouraging me to keep moving.  He believes I am on my way toward good things, even as I am enjoying good things now.

It feels like my own kids are fast approaching driving age.  It scares me to death, to be honest.  I want them to be safe.  I want to teach them the important things.  I want to help them dare to move boldly in the direction of their God-given dreams and gifts.  I vowed 17 years ago never to make my own children listen for trains, but I might just once.  For old time's sake.

"I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth.  These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them."  Isaiah 42:16


"The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you or forsake you. Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged."  Deuteronomy 31:8


Some of you are moving through rough patches of road.  Some of you are feeling a little apprehensive about getting out of the driveway and moving toward a new goal.  I'm praying for you today to be filled with the confidence that if God's in the driver's seat, you can keep moving boldly forward.  If you need to make a change in direction, the Lord will show you when and how.  

Being Led

Tiny footprints.  Marks made by little feet.  A carefree day at the ocean.  Sea shells.  Salty air.  Sun shining down on our shoulders.  Little girl, filled with wonder.  Every part of her day, glorious.  No fear.  No worry.  Right now.  Just this moment.  Laughing.  Exploring.  Experiencing.  Trusting.

Sometimes I learn a lot about life from my children.

I want my life to look like this.  My trust to look like this.

Even when rain beats down.  Even when lightning rips through the sky.  Even when the snow is blown so fiercly by icy winds that I can't see a foot in front of me.

I want to be led.

I want to see where this God whose voice shakes mountains and quiets souls is taking me.  Sometimes He asks me to stand still.  Sometimes He shows me where to put my next step.  He leads me through hard places, and He brings me out the other side, refined by the heat but unscorched by the flame.  He births dreams in my soul, and He asks me to trust Him enough to hand them back.  Then with my stronger, braver, battle-worn, more faith-filled heart, He brings me into places that are so incredibly rich in His glory.

My prayers used to be so specific.  I thought I knew exactly what to ask the Lord to do in my life.  And the longer I spend in the warmth of His presence, the more I know that the only safe thing to ask is for His will to be done.  I ask to be led.  I ask to have my heart changed to be more like His.  I ask for the stripping away of the things that are holding me back from basking in His perfect peace.  I learn to stand still when I want to be moving.  And to step forward when I don't know exactly where I'm going.

"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, 'This is the way; walk in it.'" Isaiah 30:21 


My prayer for you today is that you will hear God's voice clearly leading you in each step.  That you will be fearless and trusting and filled with joy.  That God's dreams for you will change your heart in ways you never imagined and wouldn't want to live without.  I'm praying for you to weather the storms with grace and to soak up the glorious warmth of the Lord's presence where you are today.