Broken Miracles

April is quickly approaching. This new month brings an achingly familiar sense of anxiety and dread.  April 8th marks one three years since my dad went to heaven. One Three years since I’ve held his hand or heard his laugh or hugged his neck. In some ways it seems like it was a lifetime ago, but in other ways it still feels so fresh and raw..like it only happened yesterday and I’m still trying to catch my breath.

There’s a story nestled in Matthew chapter 14 that most skip over because it has become so familiar to us. Jesus was preaching to a large crowd all day and it began to get late. The disciples wanted to send the crowd on their way so that they could get something to eat in their own villages, but Jesus said there was no need for them to leave. He simply told the disciples to give them something to eat. The disciples claimed that they didn’t have enough food but only 5 loaves of bread and two fish from a little boy in the crowd. Jesus told the disciples to bring Him the food they had. He took the bread, gave thanks for it, and then broke it. The disciples passed out the food to each person and everyone ate and was satisfied. Not only did everyone have more than enough to eat that evening, but the Bible says there were 12 basketfuls of broken pieces left over.

I grew up hearing this story in Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. It wasn’t until I read this story as an adult, and I mean really read it, that I caught some of the details that make this story so beautiful. The first detail I see is Jesus did not want to send those that were hungry and tired away to fend for themselves. He wanted them to find sustenance and satisfaction in Him. He wanted them to look to Him to provide for even their most basic needs. He still wants that from us too. He wants us to look to him to fulfill every need of our hearts, even when, if not especially when, they are hurting. We just have to lay all the messy and jagged pieces we have at His feet and he turns it into enough. The second detail I see is that Jesus first gave thanks for the bread and then broke it. This seems a little odd. It’s rare that someone would give thanks for something and turn around and immediately break it. But Jesus knew something that is hard for us to comprehend. He knew that it was through the breaking of the bread that the miracle would happen. That is true in our own lives. God uses the situations that devastate, wreck, and break us to be the very foundation of the miracle He wants to work in and through us. The breaking makes room for the miracle.

The third and final detail I see is the twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over after the entire crowd was satisfied. I’m so thankful that Matthew called them broken pieces. He didn’t say that Jesus restored the bread to its original form. He didn’t say that Jesus made the extra pieces back into a whole and happy loaf. No, Matthew said that there were 12 basketfuls of broken pieces left over. In my own life, I find myself constantly searching and flailing to get back to some sense of normal since I lost my dad. I want to go back to the way things were, but that’s not how Jesus works. The pieces of my heart are still broken and in a sense they probably will always be broken, but we can rest assured that Jesus is still working miracles to meet the needs of His people. And He doesn’t just meet them, but does exceedingly more than we can ask or imagine on our behalf.  

5 Ways to Help Your Grieving Friends

When you go through hard things, tragedies, loss..you find out who your loyal army is. You see who cares enough to go into the deepest trenches with you and do battle.. because most days that’s exactly what grief feels like.. a battle.

I have lost some really close friends along my grief journey because it’s not always fun. It’s ugly and messy. It’s heavy. But on the flip side of that, some of my sweetest relationships have been cultivated through this season. Those that have lost someone learn very quickly that you can pretty much divide the world into those who have waded through grief and those who haven’t. I would like to share a few things with those of you that haven’t been there, but would like to learn more about how to walk with and serve the hurting people in your life. I want to simply share with you some things that I have found to be SO healing to my hurting heart from my army of people that have loved me so well through loss.

1. Just show up.

Let’s just go ahead and get this out in the open. There’s NOTHING absolutely nothing that you can say that will fix their broken heart in this moment. No quote, scripture, or cliche saying can magically make them feel whole again. So let that take some of the pressure off of you. There really is no “right” thing to say. I had people that just didn’t really know what to say to me after my Dad passed away.. so they said nothing. And do you know that their saying nothing hurt deeper than if they would have just said SOMETHING. I’ve heard that pain demands to be felt. It’s true. There’s no escaping it. But it also demands to be acknowledged by those who love the person that is hurting. I have found that the most thoughtful thing you can say to someone who’s walking through grief is to admit that you DON’T know what to say. A simple “I have no words. My heart hurts for you. I am so sorry” did wonders for my grieving heart. Acknowledge the hurt and then keep being present in the hurt with them. Keep acknowledging it. Keep reminding them you’re there and thinking about them. Your presence means more than you know.

2. Mention their loved one’s names

Right after a loss, it’s normal and natural for stories and fond memories to be shared about the person that’s passed away, but as life returns to “normal” for some reason, people stop talking. People stop sharing the stories. People stop talking about the fond memories. It’s almost as if people don’t want to bring them up and remind us of our loss for fear that it’ll add more pain or awkwardness. It won’t. We LOVE talking about our people. Don’t be afraid to keep sharing..to keep remembering them with us. The person grieving may cry, but that’s okay. Don’t be afraid of their tears. Tears to the grieving aren’t unnatural or awkward. They’re just the natural expression of what they’re constantly feeling since loss. I promise you it will mean more to the hurting person if you keep remembering their loved one than if you pretend they never existed. We haven’t forgotten our people and it’s comforting to know our friends haven’t either.

3. Keep inviting them and including them

For a while after loss, a grieving person isn’t fun to be around. We see that. We know that. But there’s nothing we can do about it. So keep inviting them, but understand if they can’t make it. Keep including them, but understand when they forget an appointment or lunch date. Grief brain is real. Forgetfulness and uncharacteristic disorganization happens to a person surrounding a loss. Continue to be there for them. Assure them it’s okay. Assure them that you’ll be there when they’re ready to do “normal” things again. Assure them that you understand. Don’t get upset with them. And in the meantime, just keep inviting them.

4. Limit Complaining.

I’ve learned that people who haven’t been through a heavy loss just don’t understand some things about grief and I can’t expect them to, and I certainly don’t want them to have to experience it. But just try to be aware of what you complain about around a person who is grieving. I will never forget just weeks after my dad had passed away, someone on my college campus was griping that their dad had called them 4 times already that day just to talk. That person meant zero harm. That person was being a normal college kid. But it stung. It stung because my dad isn’t on this earth to talk to anymore and I would do just about anything to talk on the phone to him even once. If a friend has lost a child, try not to complain about the mundane duties of motherhood. If a friend has lost a spouse, try not to complain about having to pick up after yours or about them not answering your texts. Those who are grieving understand that life goes on and we don’t expect people to never complain again. Just try to be sensitive to how that complaint will come across to your friend who’s world is rocked. I’ve learned to extend grace quickly and look at people’s intent behind the words instead of the actual words themselves, but it does help if you’re more aware of what you’re complaining about around those who are trying to figure out how to navigate through life without their person. (This one is especially vital in the early days of grief!)

5. Pray for them.

This is the last one but certainly not the least. This one is pivotal. There are still days I know I would not make it through if my army wasn’t praying…if my people weren’t continually holding me up to the Father asking for healing and comfort. Those that are hurting in your life most likely don’t know what to even pray for themselves. They may not even feel that they have the energy to utter anything past “Jesus help” (and that’s okay. He will come close and answer that!!!), but it helps to know when you’re at the end of your rope, there’s others there standing there filling in the gap for you. Pray for your people. You may not have words to comfort them. You may not understand, and you may not find ways to fix them, but Jesus can. Jesus knows. Jesus understands. And it’s through YOUR prayers that he works in their life. Prayer is powerful. Don’t neglect the privilege of praying for your loved ones that are aching.

I am so thankful for my army. I’m thankful for the ways they’ve encouraged me and loved me. I can only pray to walk well with others who are hurting as a result of what God has taught me through grief.

How Sorrow and Joy Coexist After Loss

It hits you when you least expect it, ya know? At the mall or a football game. As you’re driving to work or cleaning out your car. Grief is sneaky. It can be quiet for a bit and let you feel like you’re healing, and you do. You do slowly but surely catch your breath from the initial constant waves that flood your heart and find your footing in a new normal, but I’ve realized that, this side of heaven, there may never be complete healing.

My dad had a wreck in the car rider line when I was in 8th grade. It was hilarious. My long red hair went flying in every direction because of the blow. We both had looks of total shock. It wasn’t his fault, so maybe that’s why I wasn’t even the slightest bit embarrassed, but we laughed about it the whole way home. I drove passed my Junior High today and that memory popped in my head. I kind of chuckled and then thought “I wonder if he remembers that” and do you know that I began to reach for my phone to text him? And then I remembered I couldn’t ask him. It broke my heart a little.

898 days I’ve lived without my dad on Earth. That’s a long time. You may think I shouldn’t “forget” that he’s gone like I did for a second today. But I lived WITH him here on Earth for 7,763 days (which was absolutely not long enough). When you look at those numbers next to each other, no wonder I still feel a bit lost some days. No wonder I still cry at memories. No wonder my heart still aches a little.

We got to bring our perfect baby boy home in January. And let me tell ya, being a Mama to that precious tiny human has filled me up and helped heal me in ways I hope he will never have to understand. He is exactly what my heart needed. I’m so thankful for the precious gift that he is.

But what I realized is that with this new season of joy came a new sense of sorrow nipping at its heels. Now I don’t only grieve for myself but I grieve for my baby boy who won’ t get to know his Papa. And in a weird way I grieve for my dad who won’t ever get to know his grandkids. It’s a selfish grief because I know that in eternity there’s no sadness or regret. No fear of missing out. He’s doing exactly what He was created to do, what we are all created to do, exalt our Heavenly Father. I’m so thankful for the comfort that perspective brings, but it doesn’t mean it’s not hard in the everyday, nitty-gritty details Earthside either.

I’ve struggled. It is why I haven’t written in a while. I am so incredibly happy. I love being a wife, a mom, and a teacher. I feel like this stage of life is what I’ll refer to as “the good ole days”. Most of my days really are so, so good.

But a lot of my days are also sad. I miss my dad. I will never stop missing him. And now, that sadness is just a part of me. It’s woven itself into the core of my being and coincides with my joy. I am both incredibly happy and incredibly sad and I’ve accepted that it’s okay to live that way.

Job’s story is one that most of us are familiar with. God allowed Satan to test Job in every way possible to see if Job would remain faithful to Him. In chapter 42 of Job, after the torture and the most unimaginable tragedy from the first 41 chapters has eased enough for Job to catch his breath he says, “I had heard rumors about You, but now my eyes have SEEN You.” Before all the suffering, Job hadn’t experienced God like he experienced Him through pain. When I picture him saying this, I picture shaky breath, a weary look in his eyes, and a feeble body. The price for intimacy with God is often so high. But it Is also so worth it.

At the end of Job, God restored all of Job’s possessions he had lost two-fold. Job lost 7,000 sheep. God have him 14,000. Job lost 3,000 sheep. God gave him 6,000. Job lost 500 donkeys. God gave him 1,000. Job lost 10 children. God gave him 10. Wait. Shouldn’t God have given him 20 children to keep with the pattern? Shouldn’t he have doubled the number of children just like he doubled the number of all of his livestock?

But he did. At the end of his life, Job had 20 children. The children that had been taken too early were still his children. They were still a part of him. Still a part of his family. In fact, I would go as far to say that at the end of chapter 42, Job felt a lot like I’ve been feeling the last six months. A beautiful mixture of joy and sorrow. A bearer of scars that are deep but a love that is deeper still. Job could never get back all that he lost during the fiery trial he was put through. Nothing could bring his children back just as nothing can bring my Dad back. And I can imagine the reality of that was enough to steal his breath on any given day as it still so often does mine. But Job also lived an abundant and steadfast life after the trial. His life was marked by loss and heartache, but it was also full of blessings and gratitude. Because these two can forever coexist inside a person and be used to draw us even closer to the Father. The grief keeps us dependent on the Father while the blessings are tangible gifts of his grace and goodness to us in the midst of deep loss.

Job used his deep rooted pain as a catalyst for praise. It’s almost as if you can hear him say “This still hurts and this is still hard, but You are still good.” And my heart echoes that very sentiment with every breath.

A Psalm 15 Man

I’m doing something a little different on the blog today! Wedding season is upon us. My husband and I have three weddings to attend just in the month of May. All the showers and engagement pictures and countdowns I see on Instagram and Facebook have me reminiscing on that season of our lives and today I thought I would share with some of the single, dating, and engaged ladies what little wisdom and insight I gained through the whole process.

I am not here to tell you how awful marriage is. I know Trey and I got so tired of hearing from the already married people how our lives were over, how dating is as good as it gets and how “it’s all downhill from here”. I’m not here to paint a bleak picture of how marriage is supposed to look to burst your bubble and crush your dreams. Does marriage take work? Yes. Can marriage be hard? Yes. Does marriage mean sacrifice and compromise? Absolutely. But I firmly believe that when you are married to the right person, the person you’ve prayed for and God has sent to you, marriage is a beautiful, fun, and incredible picture of the gospel.

I think the most famous question when two people start dating is “Is he ‘the one’?” or “Is she ‘the one’?” We have probably asked and been asked that question. On the heels of the “Is he/she the one?” question is usually, “Well how do I know? “ When I was single and in college, I prayed every day for the man that God had for me. I wasn’t a big dater. I had set very high standards for myself in regards to the guy I would marry. My parents had a wonderful marriage and I knew I wanted that too.   I had a long list that I had made from the time I was twelve years old of qualities I wanted and did not want the man I married to possess. One day while I was praying for my future husband my freshman year of college, I realized the only man who could live up to my long lists of do’s and don’ts was Jesus because he was perfect. And last time I checked, he’s the only perfect one. Is making a list of qualities to look for in a significant other a bad thing? Absolutely not.   But after this realization that I was not going to marry Jesus, I allowed my expectations to be shifted and shaped by Jesus, himself. I did not lower my standards, but I allowed them to be pruned a bit. I began to really seek the Lord as to what he would have me look for in a mate. One day during my regular quiet time, I read Psalm 15, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. This was my new list of expectations. This was what the Lord had given me to look for and pray for. I now have come to affectionately call it “the future husband test”. It’s only five verses, but it’s a heavy charge.

Lord, who can dwell in Your tent?
Who can live on Your holy mountain?

The one who lives honestly, does what is right,
and acknowledges the truth in his heart—
who does not slander with his tongue,
who does not harm his friend
or discredit his neighbor,
who despises the one rejected by the Lord
but honors those who fear the Lord,
who keeps his word whatever the cost,
who does not lend his money at interest
or take a bribe against the innocent—
the one who does these things will never be moved.

Qualities for a future husband from Psalm 15:

1. He lives honestly and does what is right.

Does the man you’re thinking about dating or the one you’re already with live with honesty and integrity? Can you count on him to tell you the truth no matter what? Does he always take the side of the person who is right and stand up for what is right even when it is hard or costly? Does he take responsibility for himself and his actions?

2. He acknowledges the truth in his heart.

Is your man truthful? Is he honest with himself, you, and others? Does he acknowledge the truth of the gospel in his heart and not just his lips? Does the truth affect the way he lives? Does he have a heart that is truly in love with Jesus?

3. He does not slander with his tongue, harm a friend, or discredit a neighbor.

How’s his mouth? Are his words gracious or slanderous? Is he always cutting others down or lifting them up? Does he try to make himself look better by discrediting others? How does he speak to you? Does he speak kindly (even when he is angry), or does he tear you apart with his words?

4. He despises the one who is rejected by the Lord but honors those who fear the Lord.

Who does he spend his time with? Who are his closest friends? Does he enjoy fellowshipping with other believers? Does he spend time with people who are going to push him closer to Jesus or pull him further away?

5. He keeps his word no matter the cost.

Can you count on him always? Can you trust him to do what he says he is going to do? Does he change or cancel plans on you? Does he choose others over you or make you top priority? Does he constantly let you down?

6. He does not lend his money at interest or take a bribe against the innocent.

How is he with money? Is he fair? Can he manage his money well? Is he obsessed with money? Does he spend his money wisely?

Is your guy going to be perfect 100% of the time? No. You aren’t perfect and you can’t expect him to be. That’s where grace comes in. However, the guy you are dating and eventually going to marry should surprise you when he is not exhibiting these qualities as opposed to being surprised when he is being honest, or responsible, or keeping his word to you. You should not marry or even date someone for the potential you see in them, but for the qualities they posses now because that’s all that is guaranteed. Yes, marriage is fun, but I truly believe that’s been my experience because I am with the man that God crafted just for me—a man who has all of these qualities listed above and more.

Be patient, girlfriend. God has great plans for your life. He longs to fulfill the desires of your heart, and in his timing, it’ll be even better than you could have imagined. Hold out for your Jesus loving fella. I promise it’ll be worth the wait.

New Years’ Resolution: Celebrating the Body God Gave You

Today my blog is going to be a little different. It’s not going to deal primarily with grief as many others have. I’ve struggled with that a little bit because like so many other things, me writing this blog that doesn’t deal with grief is further proof that life moves on without our loved ones.. ouch. Grief is what I know. Grief is what the Lord uses so readily in my life to teach me truths about myself and Himself. In a weird way that only those who grieve can understand, I’ve almost grown comfortable in my grief. It’s just a part of me now, and always will be. However, the Lord has put a new message on my heart lately that I have been wrestling with and I’m going to feebly attempt to put pen to paper as I write to you today.

I always try to be really transparent when it comes to my blogs. What’s the point in writing if you can’t be raw? So here’s the truth: I struggle with body image. I struggle with how much I eat, what I eat, how much I weigh, how much weight I lose and gain, how my jeans fit, how my legs look in shorts, how flabby my arms are, how muscled (or not muscled) my thighs are, when to exercise, how much to exercise, what kind of exercise to do.. then proceed to beat myself up when I don’t exercise (because let’s be honest it’s not something I find enjoyable…) The list goes on. With the new year coming up and everyone talking about dieting, exercise plans, and weight loss goals, these insecurities are at the forefront of my mind.

This isn’t something new for me. I’ve wrestled with these issues my entire life. I was a chubby kid and a chubby teenager. I lost some weight in college but found that even though I lost weight, I did not lose my insecurities. Maybe you hate your hair or your skin tone. Your nose or your eye color. Maybe you think your legs are too big or too skinny. Or your hips are too curvy or too straight. And while your list of things that you’re sensitive about in regards to your body may be different than mine, I have a feeling a list of your own exists.

Have you ever wondered why we even have these running lists in our heads? When did they start? Why we are so quick to be critical of ourselves? Sure, we can blame it on Hollywood and our society and the American culture as a whole, but last time I checked those aren’t things we can just cross out of our lives forever. So how do we remove these destructive thoughts from our minds while remaining in a culture that places appearance on the highest pedestal and begin extending grace to ourselves instead? We have given these belittling thoughts a place to live in our minds for far too long and it’s time to start evicting them.

I love to paint. I love to take something plain and boring and turn it into something special and eye-catching. It truly is one of my favorite things to do, but it’s tedious and time consuming work. Picture this. I spend hours painting a canvas for you as a gift. I add a little more of this color here and smudge that corner just a bit. I put just a tiny dab of white paint near the middle to draw the eye a little more, and then I add a some more of a contrasting color to this side for balance. I mix these two colors perfectly to create a completely new color and add it to the piece for depth. After working for hours. I stand back and look at the painting for a while, and decide that it looks absolutely perfect for you. I wrap it up in pretty paper and come immediately to your house and give it to you, excited about how much you’re going to love and cherish it. Hoping that you will brag to everyone who sees it about how I hand painted it just. for. you.

And you open it, me bouncing with excitement for you to see how unique, detailed and made with love it is, and you frown. You frown saying this color isn’t right. That shape is all wrong. It’s way too big or way too small. It’s isn’t what you had in mind. It’s not like your neighbor’s (whose painting you really love). My heart drops and shatters. I know right then that there won’t be any cherishing the masterpiece. No bragging about its uniqueness and no taking care of it.

Friends, I’m afraid that’s what we do to God’s heart each and every time we criticize our body. Every time we stare at our figure in the mirror with disgust and disappointment, wishing to look like someone else or wishing to have something we don’t…each and every time we critique the gift that he has given us.

Psalm 139:13-15 says:

“You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.”

You are God’s masterpiece. No matter how thick your thighs, flabby your arms, the size of your pants, or the color of your skin. I don’t know when it became cool to pick apart your body limb for limb and considered arrogant to celebrate the body that’s been crafted just for you by God Almighty but I know it’s got to stop. Does this mean we shouldn’t eat healthy and never exercise? By no means! It would also hurt my feelings if you left my hand painted canvas in a corner to collect dust. Never cleaning it off and maintaining it. I’m simply suggesting there’s got to be a healthy balance.

Do your best to exercise. Do your best to eat right. Do your best to keep the body that God blessed you with healthy. But if you skip a day or two (or five) at the gym, don’t panic. If you eat a cookie or a piece of birthday cake at a party, don’t beat yourself up mentally and plan for an extra hour of exercise the next day to make up for it.

Some practical ways to fight the body image issues:

1. Memorize scripture! Each time you feel that same negative mindset creeping in, take every thought captive and fight the enemy by quoting scripture about being perfectly and wonderfully made by God, himself. Post those scriptures around your house if you have to. Study what God says about you. What God thinks about you. It’s a game changer.

2. Don’t think or say anything about your body that you wouldn’t say about a friend and their body. We have to start treating ourselves with more respect.

3. Extend yourself more and more grace. You’ll mess up. You’ll gain more than you meant to. Eat more than you meant to. Not exercise when you meant to. It’s OKAY. Just try your best tomorrow. This life is not about the number on the scale or how we look in a dress. This life is about pointing people to Jesus. Our body is simply a vehicle we use to get that job done. That’s it.

My prayer for myself and you this New Year is that we will begin to celebrate the bodies that God has hand crafted just for us and his purposes and that we will begin to see ourselves the way our Heavenly Father does. Precious and perfectly made.

When You’re Waiting for Your Weary World to Rejoice

Waiting.

Nobody likes to do it.

We wait in line, wait for packages to arrive, wait for test results, wait for job interviews, wait for the birth of a child, wait for phone calls, wait to be reunited with loved ones we have lost. Waiting is one thing I fail at often….well waiting patiently anyway.

I’m a go- getter. A problem-solver. A fixer by nature. My husband will be the first to tell you patience is not one of my strengths (especially if I’m hungry). Yet so often I have found myself in a season of waiting. A season of in-betweens and unknowns.

If you know me, you know I love the holidays. I love Thanksgiving and Christmas. I really like to lump them into a two month long celebration. I love the family time, togetherness, and the overall spirit of good will and good cheer. This year as I find myself in the midst of yet another season of waiting in my life, I’ve thought a lot about the first Christmas. I’m a visual person, so it helps me to paint a picture in my mind to let the story soak into my heart.

Mary had spent the last nine months dealing with ridicule and crazy looks from those around her for claiming to be pregnant with the Son of God. Her life and plans were turned inside out. She had ridden countless miles to Bethlehem on the back of a donkey at 9 months pregnant. She gave birth to a baby in an unfamiliar stable surrounded by smelly animals because there was no room for her in the inn.  No doubt, Mary was weary.

Joseph had most likely walked the countless miles to Bethlehem leading the donkey that Mary was riding on. I can imagine the worry he felt for his fiancé as he undoubtedly witnessed her fatigue and discomfort. Not to mention the emotional weight of learning he was entrusted to raise the Son of God. Aching feet and exhaustion. Fear and uncertainty. No doubt, Joseph was weary.

The shepherds were thought of as the lowest of lows. The bottom of the totem pole in society. To most, it was a boring job. Shepherds spent most of their days alone. They would eat and sleep outdoors for days at a time leading sheep and goats from one pasture to another..from one drinking spot to another. They would check the flock at night for any sickness or ailments. They did the same thing day in and day out. Very little human interaction. Very little variety. Very little respect.   Very little hope for things to change. No doubt, the shepherds were weary.

The wisemen. The opposite end of the social spectrum from the shepherds. Those thought to be the wisest and most respected in the country. The king’s go-to men. The ones expected to have all the answers all the time, no matter what. They were sent on a long and sneaky mission to find the baby so that the king could kill him.   Knee deep in politics and twisted games. No doubt, the wise men were weary.

Perhaps you’re weary today too. Maybe you find yourself in an in-between season…a time of waiting. A season of unknowns, uncertainty, questions, and what-ifs. Maybe you’re growing weary of waiting. Maybe you are doubting whether Jesus is going to show up in your situation. If we are getting real raw and honest here, you’ve been waiting so long, you wonder if he even hears your heart cries anymore.

Maybe you’re not in a particular season of waiting right now but for whatever reason you are weary.

Bone weary.

Heart weary.

Soul weary.

Weary of losing, weary of leaving, weary of saying goodbye, weary of facing life without loved ones, weary of putting on a happy face, weary of putting up a joyful front. Can I just encourage you today to let it all fall away and rest in the fact that the thrill of hope that brought a speck of light into a dark night 2000 years ago is still pointing you towards the Savior. The same God who chose to be called Emmanuel God with us is still with you today. He’s fighting for you, interceding for you, cheering you on, and building you up. He’s chosen you, called you, equipped you, and redeemed you. He will give you rest, restore your joy, and bring good from all the things that hurt. This Thanksgiving I am most thankful for the fact that Heaven and Earth collided in the body of a tiny babe that would grow up to be the Savior the weary world was waiting for.

Hope for the Grieving Heart

I love the change of seasons. I love when the mornings become cooler, the air becomes crisper, and the leaves begin to change color. My husband laughs at how excited I get when the first colored leaf hits the ground. I start pulling out pumpkin decor, making coffee, and planning bonfires. 
I’ve contemplated why I love the change of the physical season so much but resist the change in life “seasons”. I’ve decided that the main reason I love one and resist the other is because the physical seasons are the same every year. Every year about the same time the weather cools down and the leaves change color. I know that Fall typically starts in late September and will last until late November, and then we will move on to Winter. Physical seasons are predictable. So even though they “change”, I know what to expect. 
I can’t say the same about the seasons of life. I know that not all life changes are bad. Getting married, having children, starting a new job, moving to a new town..these all can be wonderful changes of season in our lives. But these are changes we choose. 
What about the changes we don’t choose and we can’t predict? Often these changes sneak up on us. They threaten to steal our joy and turn us upside down. We don’t have time to prepare our disaster plan and we can’t pretend to know how long this new season will last.  
I had two harsh realizations after my dad went to heaven. The first was that this new season my family was thrust into would never end because on this side of heaven, I would never see my dad again. I would never hug him, share another meal with him, hear his voice, or see his smile. I’d never get to watch TV with him, hear him sing, or get another call or text from him ever again. If I’m being honest, sometimes that realization still takes my breath. Everyone told me the first year of grief is the hardest. My dad had been gone a year on April 8th, 2017 and on April 9th, 2017, I had one of my saddest days to date because I realized even though the first year was over, my dad was still gone. On this earth, our grief never ends.
The second harsh realization I had was that the world still moves on even when ours has stopped. I remember sitting in class the week after my dad’s funeral and wanting to shout at my professors and peers, “Don’t you know my dad died?!”. (Not that my professors or my peers did anything wrong. In fact, they were incredibly sympathetic during this time.) I just felt as if the whole world should be mourning the loss of my dad, as well. It affected every ounce of my being, but the rest of the world kept going on like nothing had happened. The fact that time moves on is both a blessing and a burden to the grieving heart.
I still find new ways of missing my dad. One thing I’ve learned with grief is that it always evolves. Each new life event, each season change, highlights a way we miss our people. Yesterday was Grandparents Day at the school I’m working at this semester. As I was standing there checking students in, I realized for the first time that my kids will never have my dad at Grandparents Day. And let me tell you, he would’ve been all over that. He would have been there with bells on and his hair dyed pink if he knew that’s what my children wanted. I know this because that’s how he treated my brother and I. The realization broke my heart.

Change is hard. New seasons are hard. Grief is hard. Malachi‬ ‭3:6‬ ‭says, “For I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.”

No matter what comes our way. No matter what kind of grief, hurt, pain, disappointment, fear, or loss we face, our God will not allow us to be consumed. And  even though our situation may not change–our loved ones may still be gone, that diagnosis may not go away, and the rebelling child may keep rebelling–God doesn’t change either. And that is hope for a broken and grieving heart.

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When You Don’t Know What to Pray

When I was about 13 years old I went to a youth group function with two of my best friends. When we got there, the chairs were arranged in small groups of three to four. The lights were dimmed. There was soft music playing. It was obvious we were about to have a different type of service. In typical fashion, my best friends and I were a few minutes late so there were only a few empty chairs. None of which were in the same group. Let me just tell you right now my introverted spirit kicked into overdrive panic and anxiety mode. I knew I was going to either have to share my life story with the strangers in my group or I was going to have to pray out loud. Both of which sounded like torture to my thirteen year old self. I sat down in an empty chair in a group as far in the corner as I could find. By the grace of Jesus, I didn’t have to share my life story OR pray out loud. It was more of a personal prayer time guided by prompts given by the youth pastor. That was a relief. Jesus already knew everything about me so I could talk to him a lot easier than I could the 2-3 strangers that were eye to eye with me.

 There are a few other humorous elements that accompanied this story but what sticks out to me the most is the fact that I couldn’t even pray. I was so out of my element and so nervous that I could not even form a prayer. I remember after every single prompt the pastor gave, I just prayed “Jesus help me. Jesus Jesus Jesus. Jesus help me.” 
In the context of the story, my prayer is a little humorous. But as I’ve thought about that story, I’ve realized that I’ve prayed that same prayer so many times just under different circumstances. 

When my dad passed away, I found that the prayer “Jesus. Jesus help me” was about all I could utter. The prayer came with each exhale. In those moments, I didn’t know what I should pray. My thoughts and feelings were such a mess that I didn’t even know what I needed. I didn’t know what could ease the weight of grief or make me breathe a little easier. I knew I should be praying by I just didn’t even know what to pray for. Have you ever felt that way? Like you know you need prayer and you know you need Jesus to step into your situation but you honestly can’t even find the words to ask for it? 

Romans chapter 8, verses 26-27 says, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. ” 

I’m not sure if there are any more comforting verses in all the Bible for someone walking through tragedy. We don’t serve a God who is sitting on His throne with his arms crossed waiting for us to formulate the perfect prayer. He’s not waiting for the right words or eloquent speech. He’s not distant or far removed from our circumstances. No, the God we serve comes to us, searches our hearts and has his Spirit pray for us with groanings too deep for words. He steps right into our mess, our pain, our tragedy, and our mistakes. He weeps with us and prays the perfect will of the Father over us. All we have to do is cling to Him like a buoy in the middle of a stormy sea. 

If we stopped here, that would be really good news. If we stopped here, we could walk away from this passage feeling a little more peaceful and a little more encouraged. But we don’t stop there. The next verse in the passage says:
 “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”
This verse tends to be very overused in our world today, and that has made me leery of ever quoting it. When you’re going through tragedy, you don’t want to hear that “everything happens for a reason.” or that “God is working all things together for his purpose.” It’s not that the person wading through disaster doesn’t believe that to be true deep down or that they don’t trust that God has a plan. But when you’re in the throes of grief and feel like your world is caving in, it’s hard to wrap your head around the fact that losing a loved one or getting a grim diagnosis is “just part of God’s plan”. Trusting God’s goodness and his plan even in the midst of pain does not mean that you don’t feel that pain. It does not mean you accept whatever comes your way with a smile on your face and a song in your heart. No. That’s not what this means at all.  

In fact, I don’t think that’s the the context it should even be used in. It shouldn’t just be a one size fits all bandaid to slap over every wound and every hard battle that we can’t explain away. To me, this verse means that this world is going to throw a lot of junk at you. There’s hurricanes and fires and deaths and failures. There’s things that are going to wreck you and rock you. There are things that will devastate you and knock the wind out of you. There are things that will change you forever and leave you grasping for a sense of normalcy. These things WILL happen. But we serve a sovereign and creative God. He’s able to weave all the junk and pain and disease and heartache into a masterpiece that is glorifying to Him.

So if you’re facing devastating news, feel it. Wrestle with it. Grieve. Scream. Cry. Do whatever you need to. The Spirit is there praying for you with groanings too deep for words. Cling to Him with all the broken pieces of your heart. And in the end, when the dust settles and the pain eases, even if only for a little while, I pray God gives you a glimpse of the masterpiece He’s weaving with all the threadbare pieces of your grief.

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Forgetting to Remember

Have you ever heard the funny saying “I try to take it one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once”? I will be the first to say that I have felt like that more than once in my life (Who am I kidding? most of the time it’s more than once a WEEK). I’ve noticed this feeling of being suffocated under the weight of mundane tasks that need to be completed is magnified under the microscope of fiery trials. If you have ever been through a season of suffering, you know what I’m talking about. Suddenly the idea of doing the laundry, cooking supper, and doing the dishes all in one day seems to be an insurmountable task. And you can get so bogged down in trying to muster up enough motivation to do those things you need to do today that you can’t even begin to think about tomorrow’s agenda without a full blown panic attack. Emotions are stretched and emotions are raw.
In Exodus chapter 16, we find a story of a group of people who are wondering in the wilderness. God had used Moses and his brother Aaron to set these people free from slavery and lead them to the Promised Land that He had promised to give them. These people had seen God do miraculous things on their behalf in order to release them from slavery. He had placed a number of plagues on their captors to set them free, parted seas so they could walk through on dry ground, turned bitter water into drinking water, yet still the people grumbled against God.

One day the people were complaining about being hungry. They even went as far as to say they wished Moses would have just left them as slaves where they had food to eat and they could have just died there. (I mean, that is the biblical equivalent of a 2 year old pouting fit if I’ve ever seen one). Being the sovereign God that he is, God told Moses that he would rain down bread called Manna each morning and the people were only to gather enough for that day and that day only. (Except for the 6th day when they could gather enough for the Sabbath as well). Each day they had to consume what they had gathered and not keep any over night. As you read on through the chapter, you will see that (of course) the people tried to outsmart God and kept some manna overnight for the next day but it spoiled and was covered with maggots when morning came.

You see, God wanted the people to live in dependence on Him. He wanted them to have to trust that He would come through for them morning after morning and provide them with exactly what they needed for the day ahead of them. God knew that if they took as much as they could and stored it up as a “security” of sorts then they would no longer have to depend on him to meet their needs day after day.

We can be appalled at the group of complainers in our story and we can question how they would even doubt God’s plan for them when they had already seen the miracles He had performed on their behalf. We can call them selfish, spoiled, ungrateful, and immature, but unfortunately, I identify with them a little more than I would like to admit. I have been the one pouting and complaining when things didn’t go my way. I have been the one throwing the two year old fit doubting God’s goodness and sovereignty in taking my father. I have been the one questioning God’s plan for my family and the future.

But friends I have also been the one receiving daily manna from my Heavenly Father. No, I may not literally go pick bread up out of my yard every morning, but every day the Lord’s grace rains down on me in perfect proportion for what I’m going to be facing that day. My whole life I’ve been inclined to worry. My mom is a rockstar of a mom who has always had an uncanny ability to calm those fears and worries with God’s truth. I can’t tell you how many times my mom has said “Kat, you can’t worry about what’s going to happen tomorrow or the next day or the next week or the next year. God hasn’t given you the grace to face that yet because you’re not there yet. When you get there, he will meet you with his grace.”

Talk about calming some fears! From a young age my mom has instilled this “manna grace” concept in my life and I couldn’t be more thankful.

But sometimes, like the people in our story, I forget. I forget that my God has seen me through every shift, twist, turn, and change I’ve been through in my 22 years. I forget He has worked miracles on my behalf time and time again and is constantly working for my good. I seem to suffer from a spiritual amnesia so to speak.
My prayer for my heart and yours today is that we would remember. We would remember that no matter what we face. –whether it’s a test you need to pass, a scary diagnosis breathing down your neck, a relationship that is broken, a loss that is breathtaking, or a pile of laundry that simply will not wash itself– our all-knowing, all sufficient God is meeting us with manna grace–grace upon grace– in every single moment of our day.
“I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that you have done; I ponder the work of your hands.”‭‭ Psalms‬ ‭143:5‬ ‭

Learning to Say Amen

I have always loved words. I am fascinated by the reading of words, the history of words, and the translation of words.  After hearing the song Amen by Matt Papa (if you haven’t heard it, stop right now and go listen to it!!!!!) The word Amen has come to be one of my favorite words in the last year and a half.

It’s such a small word. Four little letters smashed together to pack a mighty punch. We often use it as an end mark to our prayers or when we agree with what someone else says. We throw it out there when the pastor makes a point we agree with in his sermon. We use it so much that we might not even think about the huge meaning this little word carries.

The actual, literal definition of amen is so be it, truly, or surely. It comes from the Hebrew word meaning, “to be faithful and trustworthy.” So when we end our prayers with, “amen” it’s as if we are saying “please let it be so as we prayed”.  I don’t know about you, but I have ended a lot of prayers with “amen” that have not come to be. So what if it isn’t as we prayed? What if that job position doesn’t become available? What if our dreams slip right through our fingers? What if your loved one still dies? What if your child is still rebelling? What if the cancer isn’t cured?

As always, I try to be real. I struggle with questions surrounding my dad’s death. Watching your father die is not something I would wish on anyone. The days leading up to his home-going were horrific. They were hard. I still hear sounds, have awful dreams, and get hit in the gut with the reality of those days sometimes. His transition from our arms to our Heavenly Father’s arms was not easy to watch.   I prayed a lot of prayers in those last days, but they didn’t get answered the way I wanted them to. What does a believer do with those questions that seem to have elusive answers?

In Revelation chapter 3 verse 14, Jesus refers to himself as “the Amen, the faithful and true witness.” Did you catch that? Jesus is not an Amen but he is The Amen. He is the very embodiment of faithful, true, and trustworthy. He is the first and the last. The beginning and the end. The all-knowing, all-sufficient, ever-present. It is against his very nature to bring anything but goodness to his children. He is indeed The Amen. So what does that mean in the face of all of our prayers that don’t get answered and all of our amens that are not so.

After wrestling with this for so long, I have come to realize that our Amen must equal surrender. Amen is not just “let it be as we have prayed”, but it is the giving over of each request into the capable, trustworthy, and loving hands of The Amen, Himself. It is acknowledging that what we have prayed is what we would like to see happen but at the end of the day…at the end of our prayer…we understand that our Jesus knows things we do not know. He understands things we do not understand. He works in ways we cannot see. It’s the acknowledgement that no matter the outcome, He is good. He is trustworthy. He is faithful. He is AMEN.  Does that mean he does not want us to come to him? Not at all! He wants to hear our desires, our longings, our biggest fears, and our wildest dreams.  But just as a child has to trust that his or her parent knows what’s best, we have to trust that our Father has our best interest at heart.  He is more concerned with our becoming mature and complete in Him than He is keeping us comfortable and free from pain.

Tragedy is going to happen. Hard times are going to come. The Bible promises us that. We can resist it, fight it, run from it, or try to hide, but they will always come. The beauty is we do not have to face them alone. Right now, you may be wading through unimaginable grief. Give it to The Amen. You may be fighting a battle of anxiety and depression that nobody even knows about. Give it to The Amen. You may be in a marriage that’s hanging on by a thread or in the financial crisis of your life. Give it to the Amen. You may be dealing with infertility, unexpected loss, rejection, or an addiction. Give it to the Amen.

It does not happen over night and it certainly does not come naturally, but little by little as these fears, questions, and storms of life threaten to steal our joy and crush our spirit, we are learning to say Amen.