How Moms Conquer College Drop Off

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How Moms Conquer College Drop Off

“I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb. Before you were born I set you apart and appointed you as my prophet to the nations.” Jeremiah 1:5 NLT

My Quiet House

My usual bustling house was eerily quiet. Four of our kids were out of the nest, with one left to finish three more years of high school. I looked forward to time with the baby, but she was pretty busy with school activities and work. I’d hug her in between events, but she was independent. I admired her strength. A heaviness hung over me as my mind flashed through my usual routine.

Motherhood is all I knew. I spent nearly three decades focused on my five kids. There were endless appointments, sporting events, musical concerts, homework, sibling rivalry, laundry, grocery shopping, counseling, training, loving, laughter, and tears. My days jumbled together in a monotonous repeat of tasks, but I saw motherhood as a high calling and a gift.

We dropped the fourth child at college recently and questions tumbled through my thoughts:

Who am I apart from being a mom?

What do I want to do with this life now that my kids are grown?

What dreams had I set aside to raise them?

My children were my focus and now they are gone. My active mothering would end. How could I conquer this phase of motherhood, the one that was more hands off, less child focused?

We will all face this chasm. This shift between what we always did, and the future apart from our grown kids. We have dropped a child at college and life looks different. It doesn’t matter if it’s our first or our last; everything changes.

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4 Ways To Conquer Your Fear Of Releasing Your Emerging Adult

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4 Ways To Conquer Your Fear Of Releasing Your Emerging Adult

“Those who know your name trust in you, for you, O Lord, do not abandon those who search for you.”- Psalm 9:10 NLT

The End of An Era

Keenan stood at the podium at his high school graduation, on a steamy June evening, as he offered a short speech. His 6’5” frame was draped in a red graduation gown and mortarboard hat. Years on the stage made him a confident speaker. He was calm and articulate; his hazel eyes bright with anticipation for the future.

He wasn’t driven by achievement or accolades. He loved ideas and meaningful connection. He devoured books and ideas like candy. He was a wise old soul for a young man.

He was leaving our rural Minnesota hamlet to attend a college in downtown Minneapolis. What a jump it would be and he was bursting to get out of small town life. There was little to do except hang out with friends at the local coffee shop or drive around. He was ready for richer experiences.

His junior and senior year were spent mostly away from us because of work and student activities. His absence at the dinner table seemed a normal part of our routine. But not having him in our home felt impossible to reconcile. His siblings adored him and so did we. How was I going to let my firstborn go?

Every mom comes to this point in her relationship with her emerging adult. It is time to release them. This is God’s plan and a normal process of parenting. We knew this day was coming. Instead of dreading it, we partner with God to release our emerging adult children.

God in His sovereign goodness does not abandon us. He is our source of help and strength in this unfamiliar phase of motherhood. As we lean into His strength, He infuses us with the ability to relinquish control and watch our baby soar.

You are not left alone. You are not forgotten.

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8 Awesome Bible Verses To Study About Communication

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8 Awesome Bible Verses To Study About Communication

“Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.” -Colossians 4:6

Hard Conversations

Amanda leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, as she faced her young adult daughter, Rachel. Rachel’s eyes were downcast, fearing the conversation. “I know this isn’t going to go well, she thought, “but here we go again.”

“Mom, I just don't want to go to college!” Rachel pleaded. “It’s a stupid waste of money. I don’t even know what I want to do with my life. Why do I have to go? Can’t I just kick back for a year and see what happens?”

Amanda braced herself for the exchange as she felt the tension in her upper back. “Why in the world would you take a year off? That’s just stupid. You think you can just slide into adulthood? It doesn’t work like that. Around here, we do the work. You should definitely register for classes at the university. You’ll be fine.”

The tension hung in the air as Rachel slipped away, defeated and wondered, “When will she ever stop making suggestions and listen to what I have to say?”

Is this type of conversation familiar in your home?

I didn’t mean to give unsolicited advice, yet suggestions quickly rolled off my tongue, and I saw the ache behind my adult child’s eyes when I offered advice.

In an effort to protect our kids, or show them the path ahead could be harmful, we overstep. We talk too much. We say things like, “You should…” or “Why don’t you…” We magnify the situation, resulting in conflict.

We say they are being rebellious or disagreeable, but if we are honest, we are irritated that they will not do what we want. Our adult kids are no longer children and they are not required to obey us (Ephesians 6:1). This is a hard shift for moms to understand.

Gracious Speech

No mom intentionally sets out to frustrate her adult children, but in our carelessness we often cause harm.

Gaining a fresh perspective from God’s Word is what we need. It’s helpful to remember God cares about how we speak.

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How To Trust God

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How To Trust God

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?”-Psalm 56:3-4

Desperate Situations

I reached for my phone, as my Moriah’s name appeared on the screen. “I need to get out, mom,” she said resolutely. I sighed a prayer of relief. I rearranged my schedule and drove the four and half hours to help her pack. Thoughts rolled through my head, on the tedious drive, as I flung desperate prayers to heaven. God please, let him not be there. Please help us get her packed quickly. Please heal her broken heart. Fear and relief marched side by side in my mind.

We huddled in the closet of her loft apartment in downtown Des Moines. The concrete floors were cold beneath us, indicative of the mood, as Moriah riffled through her clothes.

Hot tears streamed down her face, as anguished cries escaped her mouth. “I’ve ruined everything. My life is one big disappointment!”

I sat beside her, heartbroken and afraid. What can I do? What should I say? These questions raced through my head as my daughter prepared to leave an unhealthy relationship. I waffled between resentment and hopefulness.

I felt satisfied with her determination to acknowledge and respond to the red flags in her relationship. But at that moment, I was certain my heart would break for her vulnerable state. “You are the bravest young woman, I know.” I choked.

I held her tight, willing her to receive some of my strength. God met us there, on the frigid floor. She may not have recognized it, in her pain, but He buoyed me, as my heart sank. I had never experienced this depth of powerlessness with my child. I doubted my skills to handle it well. I was desperate for Godly wisdom.

Oh, how I wanted to rescue and fix her all those months. We had conversations about his behavior and what it meant. Deep down, I resented him, but I simply said, “if you stay, it will be hard.” I could not tell her to leave because it was not my place. She had to realize the complexities of her situation and make her own decision. By the grace of God, she did, as courage welled within her.

Midlife momma, our children will face situations where we will want to fix and rescue. We will want to scream, “Don’t do that!” but in this phase with our kids, we must hold our tongues. This will be the season we cling to God. We will trust Him.

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How Trustworthy is God?

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How Trustworthy is God?

“The LORD is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him.”-Psalm 28:7

Sleepless Nights

I roll over and see the red numbers of the digital clock mocking me again. It’s 4:00am, two hours until the alarm blares. I sigh heavily, hoping to turn off the thoughts rolling through my head. Sleep isn’t my friend lately. Is it menopause or is it worry? Sometimes it’s hard to tell, but tonight I’m thinking about my grown kids. They’re all navigating hard situations while I feel overwhelmed and helpless.

Keenan has been battling an undiagnosed condition for nearly a year. He’s had countless scans, blood work, and still no answers. Every joint in his body aches, and he can barely walk. His life has been drastically affected.

Moriah desperately desires a career in her field. She’s spent months hunting for jobs, and no one will take a chance on her even with a master’s degree. She’s bright, driven, creative and hard working. Her retail management position leaves her drained and unfulfilled.

Caleb is wrestling with future plans. Should he and his new bride move across the country? But, then they’ll be starting over and far from family. They need clarity for the right decision.

Rebekah holds a taxing university job and is pursuing her masters degree. Her husband works for a large church that is understaffed. They have little margin in their days and are pushed to exhaustion.

Keziah is newly married and navigating that along with a demanding role in a college ministry, a part time job, and finishing up her undergrad degree in May.

So, I toss and turn, fretting and frustrated. I can’t change anything. I am powerless to help them, but there’s one thing I can do. I can entrust them to my powerful King.

I roll out of bed and head to the quiet place. Bible in hand and a pile of snotty tissues, I pray to my trustworthy God. I recount His promises and let go, again. I exchange my fear for His confidence. I lay the burdens down as I allow my heart to trust Him.

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The Power of An Apology

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The Power of An Apology

“Be completely gentle and humble, be patient, bearing with one another in love.”-Ephesians 4:2

That Annoying Sound

The sound machine, on high volume, swooshed the most annoying sound. It didn’t replicate ocean waves, at all, as the high volume distorted into jarring white noise. It grated on my soul. I tossed and turned in restless fits as our infant grandson, Gus, slept peacefully. We had the only guest bedroom at Mom and Don’s condominium and we had to share with Gus because he needed a dark room and the noise machine to sleep. Everyone else was laid out on air mattresses in the living room. This was our only alternative if I wanted a comfy bed versus a lumpy air mattress.

I flipped and flopped all night long, deeply annoyed by the offensive sound. Gus was sound asleep. Couldn’t I just turn it down a little? Every time I tried, Gus woke up and Keenan, his dad, would come in and comfort him. This went on all night. I was frustrated. Keenan was agitated and we couldn’t wait for the dawn to break, so we could end this insanity.

At morning's arrival, Keenan asked to talk to me. He was livid. We sat on the edge of the bed, while everyone else was still asleep. With our bedhead and bleary-eyes, I could see the anger and hurt on his face. He told me how he felt. I was crushed by hurting him. I listened and let him pour out the pain and then I did the only thing I could do. I apologized.

I was broken for hurting him, and for being so selfish about the stupid sound machine. I had dismissed his parenting choice, which hurt him deeply. He realized he may have overreacted from the sheer exhaustion of it all. Hot tears fell, but we wrapped up the conversation with a big hug. We extended grace to each other.

Apologize, Mom

Most often the conflicts or tension we experience in our relationships are because both parts are contributing to the stress. It’s never just one or the other. As we navigate this new way of relating to our kids, it’s often hard for moms to change roles. It’s difficult to not make all the decisions anymore. Resentment can grow quickly when communication or expectations have been challenging.

The antidote for bitterness is a gentle tone and a quick apology. It diffuses conflict and brings the relationship back to civility. The tension is removed and a tone of understanding and respect returns.

Are you the kind of mom who apologizes easily or are you a bit too proud for that? Are you the mom who squares her shoulders and digs in her heels with her adult kids? Do you set your jaw and harden your heart in conflict? Conflicts will come; they’re inevitable in this season of parenting. Apologizing is helpful.

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The Beauty of Listening To Your Adult Child

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The Beauty of Listening To Your Adult Child

“Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters; You must all be quick to listen slow to speak and slow to get angry.”- James 1:19

Hard Conversations

I could feel the tension in the air as we walked and talked that hot summer day. Caleb had reluctantly joined the family for a few days at our annual trip to Family Camp. I felt the resistance, and I could see the pain on his face.

This was the last place he wanted to be. He didn’t want to be boxed in by God or the church. I knew he had been wrestling with God for a few years. He was filled with doubts and probably some anger towards the church. I don’t think being a Pastor’s kid was an easy thing for him. He was now a college student and free to make his own choices, and he had picked up some new views about the world.

I asked him about his dad’s healing. “How do you explain dad’s miraculous healing from multiple sclerosis?” He looked at the ground, as we walked and said, “Science has proven the body can regenerate itself.” It felt like someone punched me in the gut! I avoided his gaze and tried to muster all the restraint I could and said, “Oh, it can, can it?” My comment was laced with sarcasm and bitterness. And that was the end of our conversation. I walked away dejected and fearful, and he left the conversation feeling frustrated. I’d blown it, for sure, when it came to listening.

A Listening Ear

As we enter this unfamiliar, supportive role in parenting our adult children, one of the greatest gifts we can give them is a listening ear. In the past we wanted to correct, instruct, and train, but those days are behind us. This is a new season which requires new skills.

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How To Feel Closer to God Again

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How To Feel Closer to God Again

“I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.” -Hebrews 13:5

We’ve all felt the longing for more of God, and when the distance between us has widened, it hurts. How is it God is both within us and all around, yet He feels so far off some days? If He never changes and promises His presence with us always then it must be about our proximity and awareness of Him.

About a decade ago, I sat amongst a group of church leaders, dutifully listening to the speaker. The day had gotten long, and I was eager to retreat for the evening. The speaker quoted a prominent national youth leader, and I never forgot the statement.

“If God seems far away, go back to where you left Him.”- Jeannie Mayo

I sat with the statement and mulled it over. It was the first time I truly understood that my connection with God was my responsibility. It wasn’t my church’s, my spouse, or a matter of circumstance. If God seemed far away, I was the one who moved, not Him. All I had to do was simply go back to where I left Him. Does this resonate with you, reader?

Somehow, in the church, we’ve gotten this wrong. We toss God aside as we elevate our service to Him. I’ve noticed most Christian women are content doing things for God instead of being with God. The busyness and service make us justify the distance because we’re doing _________ for God and surely He’s pleased with our service.

Sweet friends, God wants you. He loves you and cherishes being near you. He hopes for life-giving conversations about all the things that matter to you. His love is poured out in the context of relationship and connection. His character is revealed, and His purposes are laid out as you meet with Him. There are things God wants you to know about Him, your life, and your future.

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Vulnerability Leads Us to Deep Connection With God

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Vulnerability Leads Us to Deep Connection With God

“Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to Him for God is our refuge.” - Psalm 62:8

Honest Prayers

I’m in my usual early morning spot with God, curled up on my pretty orange bird chair. I’m tucked under a blanket with a cup of coffee, my Bible, and my journal. I carry deep sadness today. I had a challenging night with pain. I awake with another headache. It goes up the back of my head and lands on my forehead. It feels like hot coals on the inside. I must have slept weird again. Why or why can’t I train my body to land the right way when I’m sleeping, so I don’t wretch my neck? I try to massage the knots, but they never go away.

I want a good night’s sleep. I want the pain to end. Six years of pain feels unbearable, especially from a car accident that isn’t my fault. A distracted driver rear-ends me, and I’m stuck with endless ache. I still see the two young men laughing as I look in the rearview mirror after impact. Today, it feels like too much to bear.

I don’t talk to God about my pain lately. I have in the past, but His silence and inactivity keep me from bringing it up. It seems like my prayers for relief have bounced off the ceiling for years. But today, I’m weary. I don’t think I can do this anymore.

So, I bravely pour out my frustration with prolonged suffering. I release my anger and sense of abandonment. I voice my contempt as hot tears fall. “Why won’t you rescue me, God? I believe in Your power! I’ve seen You do miracles and yet You do nothing for my pain! I read through the New Testament of Jesus’ miracles and His compassion towards the sick. When is it my turn? When will You turn and be gracious to me? Why God? Why?”

It’s like a release valve is opened as I honestly talk to God about my disappointment.

I sit quietly and catch my breath. Piles of crumpled Kleenex rest on my Bible. Instead of feeling abandoned, I feel relieved. It feels good to get it off my chest. Sweet peace settles over me and I hear God speak.

I hear His gentle voice, “I’m so glad we’re talking about this. I like it when you tell me how you feel. You don’t have to hide a thing from Me. Pour it out. I’m here.”

I’m learning to receive God’s grace in my most vulnerable places. I don’t have to hide my emotional or physical discomfort from Him anymore. I’m taught to trust His ways.

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We Were Created For Loving Union With God

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We Were Created For Loving Union With God

“My sheep listen to My voice, and I know them and they follow Me; - John 10:27

God’s Reassuring Voice

I reach for my husband’s hand the second after a drunk driver runs the red light and slams into our car. Black smoke is rising from the airbags, and I’m terrified. I want to flee, but all I hear is the sound of impact ringing in my head, and I fear we could be hit again. It’s hardly rational thinking.

My chest hurts, and I’m in shock. We keep reassuring each other we’ll be okay and praising God we can move all our limbs. I can’t stop crying, and I’m shivering uncontrollably as the paramedics load us into separate ambulances.

The chest pain continues, but I can’t tell if it is from within or just a reaction to the accident. I’ve never had a panic attack. I am hooked up to a heart monitor, and my rhythm is normal. I hate being separated from my husband. I need to know that he’s okay.

After being examined by a doctor in the ER, scans are ordered and off I go rolling down the hall. The nurses and technicians are kind, but make fun of all the blankets piled on top of me

I’m transferred to the hard table of the Cat scan machine. I’m surrounded by white plastic and the humming of the machine as it moves my body back and forth. I notice the puffy cloud images tacted to the ceiling tiles like they’re going to somehow make me feel better.

After a few moments, I take a deep breath and feel sublimely calm. Peace descends like a warm blanket, and I hear Papa’s voice. “I’m right here. You’re going to be okay.” Warm tears fall as I’m reassured by God’s comforting voice.

Knowing God is near is a great comfort and a byproduct of union with Him. Loving God is not just about having faith in our Maker or serving Him because we must; our hearts are intertwined and we are tethered. He’s within me and He’s all around. I am held and I can’t escape His presence. My loving union with Him is everything.

We’re Created For Loving Union

We were created for loving union with God. Our union is much more than salvation, dutiful service, performing religious rituals, and attending weekly church services. We can do all these things and still not have union with God.

“Your very being is made to be saturated with the being of God.”- John Eldredge

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Vulnerability Brings Us Closer to God

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Vulnerability Brings Us Closer to God

“We come closer to God and approach him with an open heart, fully convinced that nothing will keep us at a distance from him.” -Hebrews 10:22 TPT

Honest Conversation With God

It’s late afternoon, in early spring, as I peer at the clouds outside my window. The grey day amplifies the dreariness in my heart; I cannot shake the sadness, as melancholy has is my unwelcome companion. My sunny disposition is buried in the loss of people, comfort, and health.

We are four weeks into the pandemic, and I have only left the house once a week for groceries and once a week on Sundays to go record the live stream message with my hubby, the pastor.

I crawl into my favorite chair in my office. I wrap myself in a cozy blanket, and I weep. The floodgates open as I unload my grief. I don’t even recognize it as grief, at first. I miss people. I miss connection and conversation. I’m worried about our grown kids. Will my elderly parents with fragile bodies survive this pandemic? I am also overwhelmed by the political upheaval in our nation. I pour out my sadness to Papa.

I don’t have to pretend with Papa. He already knows everything that’s going on inside. He doesn’t judge me or condemn me. I hear Him whisper, “Go ahead and cry, Honey. I’m right here. I know this is scary and unfamiliar. I know you miss all your people immensely, but I’m here, I’m with you. I’ll help you through this.”

I feel the warmth of God’s peace as real as my cozy blanket. I’m going to keep coming back to this place whenever I’m overwhelmed. Papa’s love calms me best. I’m glad I can be honest with Him. I’m thankful for His loving-kindness towards me in my pain.

God is Safe

There is nothing blocking us from being close to God because Jesus covers our shame. We are safe with God. He allows us to draw near with the full assurance of His love. The Father is happy to see us, but He’s not looking for the cleaned-up version of ourselves. He wants us to be “real.” He’s not looking for the Sunday morning, mask-wearing version. You know, the one that is polished, perfect, and says “I’m fine!” That version rarely draws near to God.

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She Loves God, But She's A Little Tired.

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She Loves God, But She's A Little Tired.

e been thinking about this woman a lot. Maybe you know her?

She loves God. She’s walked with Him for many years, but she’s tired. She’s tired of the same old relationship. She keeps trying to work her way to Him by doing all the right things. She’s diligent but utterly frustrated. Deep down she feels empty but doesn’t know what to do.

She Loves God, But He Seems Distant

She loves God, but He seems distant and she can’t figure out why. She’s gone through her mental checklist:

  • I’m serving Him by giving of my time, gifts, and finances. Check.

  • I attend church regularly. Check.

  • I throw up some prayers in the morning. Check

  • I try to get along with my husband. Check.

  • I’m raising these kids the best I know-how. Check.

  • I try to read the Bible. Check.

    Yet, after doing all these things for God, she’s not quite connecting with God. She reads her Bible, but there’s no wonder jumping off the pages. She can’t always relate to the stories or understand how they apply to her. She tries to listen for God’s voice, but mostly she hears the lies of condemnation and shame, or she hears nothing at all. This reinforces her lack, which causes her to move farther away from God.

    She’s praying about things: deep things, hard things, and yet it feels like her prayers bounce off the ceiling. She’s begged, pleaded, even bargained with God, and still, He doesn’t answer her prayers the way she wants, so she assumes He’s mad at her.

    She longs for something deeper and richer but is frustrated with how to get there. The formulas fall flat, the awe of God is gone. She feels alone, isolated, and disappointed in her relationship with God.

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I'm Assured God Works For Good In Every Situation

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I'm Assured God Works For Good In Every Situation

In the midst of pandemics and social injustice, it seems ridiculous to mention, my tailbone, but here I am. For a few years in my early forties, I practiced Pilates. Pilates is a workout of stretching and toning. It’s low impact and seems good for this reluctant exerciser. A lot of the moves are performed sitting on your tailbone. As a result of these exercises, I develop a bone spur on my tailbone. I know, go ahead and laugh, because I think it’s absurd too.

It’s been ten years since the spur first developed. Removing it isn’t an option because it’s risky surgery, but, hey, it only hurts when I sit or lie. I’ve tried a few different coccyx cushions, but it’s embarrassing lugging those around, so I shift in my chair; surprisingly, soft chairs cause more pain than hard.

Adding insult to injury, I was rear-ended in 2014, on a sunny September day, which left me with chronic neck and mid-back pain. During months of doctoring, I also discovered I have rare thoracic scoliosis. My once healthy body seems to reject healing.

After years of therapy, massages, chiropractic care, and non-traditional treatments I gave up on pursuing healing via medical doctors. The physical pain of varying degrees is now a part of my daily life.

As a normally joyful, optimistic person, I don’t mention my pain often. I don’t see the point in wallowing in it or bringing it up. If I’m having a rough day, my hubby knows, and he’s faithful to pray for me.

I believe in the healing power of God. I’ve witnessed miracles of healing and restoration, personally. It’s a little bone spur, and the God of the universe could flick it off if He wanted, and yet, He does not.

There are seasons where I cry out to God for healing and others where I remain silent. If I’m honest, on my worse days, I feel disappointed and overlooked. It’s on my low days, Papa and I talk; I confess my frustrations and am met with bundles of compassion for God is familiar with pain. He is equally present with me in my joy and my pain. As we talk, He leads me back to the truth from His Word about His goodness.

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How To Feel Secure When You're Upset

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How To Feel Secure When You're Upset

As we look at what it means to be secure in Christ, we need to remember it’s not just physically, but emotionally. When the circumstances in our lives are filled with pressure and we feel trapped by pain, loss, despair, or anxiety, there’s a place we can go for sweet relief.

“He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because He delighted in me.” -Psalm 18:19

Pressure

I’m feeling the weight of it all today. This diagnosis has robbed my husband, Bob, of the ability to speak clearly; his mobility is taxed and his energy drained. Bob’s anxiety shoots through the roof as he wakes up each day with different limitations. Chronic Progressive Multiple Sclerosis is a thief robbing him of his ability to work, provide, and engage in everyday life.

He retreats to his bed often, spent from emotional and physical exhaustion. Normally, he would push through exhaustion. He’s hard-headed, driven to accomplish tasks, and values hard work, however, his body defies his request to produce.

I’m left carrying the load with our three small children. The days feel long. I want to return to our old lives. This medical nightmare leaves me feeling alone and misunderstood. My days are filled with cooking, cleaning, parenting, and trying to navigate this ever-changing disease with my husband. There are new pressures and stress as we look forward to a disease with no cure. We face doctors who make educated guesses on how to treat the unending symptoms of memory loss, muscle spasms, tremors, and continuous nerve damage.

Each day I sneak away to a spacious place where God rescues me from worry, doubt, and fear. It’s not my reality, but by faith, I can confirm it’s existence. It’s a quiet place where Papa and I meet. I pour out my anguish, lost dreams, and endless trials. I unload my fears for the future, as the weight begins to lift. I rehearse the promises from scripture, and I hold on to hope, even when my reality is hopeless. I meditate on God’s goodness and character.

Being with Him, in this roomy space, helps me focus less on my troubles. Isn’t that the point of this walk with God, more of Him and less of me?

See, I imagine me and Papa in this perfect, expansive spot. This boundless area is void of sorrow and trouble. In my mind, it’s a meadow, full of flowers; the sun shines bright as God whispers His love. Other days I imagine a majestic mountain top, where God has brought me to sit with Him.

He stays with me and holds me. He tells me I’m seen. He speaks of His delight in me, which I can hardly believe because I’m just trying to hold it all together. He says, “Please don’t feel you must hold it all together, that’s my job. Your job is surrender.” I sigh and once again, release control, understanding, and will.

He assures me of His love and compassion in the messy middle of hardship. When I cry, “God, I can’t do this,” He lovingly asks me the same question. “Do you trust Me?” As warm tears roll down my cheeks, I whisper, “I do.”

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A Series About Forgiveness: I Forgive You

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A Series About Forgiveness: I Forgive You

This is a series on the power of forgiveness. Go to last week’s post to read my family’s story. As we begin to walk in our true identity in Christ, we understand we are forgiven. Since we are forgiven, Christ also requires us to extend forgiveness to others.

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” Ephesians 4:32

A canopy of gold and red hangs above our heads as we meet at the park on this glorious October day. I sense God’s presence as I walk into a holy moment, one that changes the trajectory of my life. The sun shines brightly against the cornflower blue sky reminding me of the goodness of God. He is our light in the darkness, and I experience this truth profoundly in the weeks following the tragedy. This is the first time I will see Al’s face since the shooting.

Just two months earlier, I’m filled with rage towards my step-dad, Al. It’s been a slow boil for years as the devastation of alcohol abuse has wrung me out. The thought of him makes my stomach churn. The endless bottles of alcohol, his slurred speech, the ensuing arguments. The sad, emptiness in his eyes, as he’s in denial about his drinking. I find his behavior weak, repulsive, and I feel justified in my anger. I’m only nineteen but both my father and step-dad succumb to alcoholism, and I’m simply fed up. I should have compassion for his brokenness, but I only feel disgusted. I mean, come on, he shot my mom. Surely that warrants hatred? I am confident in my stance.

Until God interrupts my hatred!

The only explanation I have for my parent’s reconciliation is surrender and divine intervention. My step-dad surrenders in jail, while my mom has her own “come to Jesus” moment at home recovering from surgery. A local pastor’s wife reaches out to my mom, and they build a friendship. My mom is equally exhausted from a life of co-dependence being married to two alcoholics. Her first marriage ends because of my dad’s drinking. Her father is also a recovered alcoholic, which likely contributes to the familiarity of it all. She does not want this marriage to end in divorce.

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A Series About Forgiveness: You Are Forgiven

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A Series About Forgiveness: You Are Forgiven

This is a story of audacious grace and forgiveness. This is God’s story for my family.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” 1John 1:9

Intended for Evil

They argue as the air hangs thick in the house on this steamy August day. Al, my stepdad, retreats to the bedroom; my mom broods in the living room. The bed is a familiar escape for a drunkard. Drink and then you sleep, never able to actually escape what ails you inside.

Arguing is the norm for their relationship and ordinary for most homes where alcohol is king. Darkness descends and swirls all around Al. As he falls into blackness, he releases the clip on the gun. She hears a click from the living room and instead of running away, she walks towards the sound.

As she enters the bedroom, he rolls over in a drunken haze and points the gun at her and shoots. Shock, fear, and adrenaline course through her body. She thinks, “I must escape! Run!” She races into the kitchen, out the patio door, down the deck stairs, and to a neighbor's house. She’s alert, yet in shock. The bullet has gone through her chest. How is she alive?

She calls a friend who runs and grabs me at my job as a waitress. I’m 19 years old, and when an adult runs into your work and says, “You have to come with me right now. Something terrible has happened!” you go immediately. I see the fear in his eyes. My heart stops and I hold my breath as I run out of the restaurant. What am I about to face?

We race across town to find my mom on a gurney being lifted into an ambulance. She’s talking and alert. Terror is all over her face, but she’s alive. I’m simultaneously scared to death and filled with rage for my step-dad. How can this be happening? How is this my life?

My friend drives me to the ER, and we wait. I just want my mom to be safe. I pray to a God I barely know, to beg him to watch over her. I wait in the ER for what feels like hours hoping someone will update me. Everything moves in slow motion. I’m terrified, confused, ashamed, and overwhelmed. What are we going to do? Surgeons perform surgery and are amazed the bullet has only grazed her heart. She is millimeters away from death.

But for God.

My step-dad is brought to jail. The next day he wakes up and realizes something terrible has happened, but he has no memory of it. He asks the jailer why he’s there and crumbles into a heap when the jailer says, “You shot your wife.”

While in jail, Al meets with a man from a local church. They build a relationship and gain trust with each other. After much soul searching and counsel, nearly two weeks after the shooting, Al falls to his knees in repentance; he calls out to Jesus to rescue him and deliver him, and Jesus does. Al never drinks a drop of alcohol or smokes for the rest of his days. He said to Jesus, “If you will save my wife, I’ll serve you the rest of my life.” He is changed in an instant. Now the hard work of reconciliation and restoration would take many months, but it happens, all because of the goodness of God. What happens to my family is miraculous.

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You Were Created to Do Good Things

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You Were Created to Do Good Things

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.”- Ephesians 2:10

What Am I Good At?

I fidget nervously in front of everyone. My mouth is dry and I’m all awkward, lanky arms and legs in my eighth-grade speech class. I shuffle through my index cards to make sure I have them in the right order. Who do I focus on? I smile big and start my speech. Once I get going, I feel calm. “This isn’t so bad,” I think. I finish my three-minute speech and scurry back to my chair, grinning to myself, thinking, “I could do this again.”

Fast forward six years to my Oral Interpretation Class in college. An Oral Interpretation class is part speech and part theater. My handsome, young, professor is energetic and our class requires collaboration and discussion. I’m an eager student, ready to soak up all the knowledge and technique. I present a work by Edgar Allen Poe, and my professor gives me an outstanding critique. I’m hooked.

I’m not nervous in front of people now. Speaking comes natural, like riding a bike or skipping down a sidewalk. I feel at ease, confident, and completely energized. For the first time, I understand what I’m good at. I continue taking Speech courses and eventually graduate with a double major in Mass Communication and Speech Communication.

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I Am Enough Because Christ Completes Me

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I Am Enough Because Christ Completes Me

“So you also are complete through your union with Christ, who is the head over every ruler and authority.”-Colossians 2:10

Am I enough? The question looms in my mind at a young age. I relentlessly try to prove I am. I want to be found complete, but I often come up short. It would be years before I understood completeness is not dependent on me but comes from what Christ has done for me.

Not Enough

Junior high gym class is the worst. I’m a thin girl with long limbs who appears athletic, but it’s all an illusion. The middle-aged gym teacher selects the two fastest, most athletic kids as captains. “It figures,” I think, as I roll my eyes in disgust. Is it their popularity or their physical strength that enables them to toy with our psyches? I’m not sure how it works, but it doesn’t matter because when the scales are read, I’ll be on the “not enough” side. I won't be chosen first.

I’ll never be enough.

Not fast enough

Not strong enough

Not popular enough

One by one the captains choose kids for their teams. Of course, all the jocks are selected first and then there’s the rest of us misfits. Should I look at the ground? Should I flash my charming smile in hopes my bubbly personality will win them over, and they will call my name? What's a girl to do?

I know what the pecking order means. Those chosen first are the brightest, most wonderful. Those who are left last are less than, deficient. Nobody wants us. You might as well print REJECT on our foreheads.

I wiggle and squirm in the uncomfortableness of the situation hoping and praying I’m not the last one standing. I have compassion for the few not yet chosen. I've always felt that way about the underdog. I hold my breath, and I want the moment to pass. Relief floods my soul as my name is called, and I’m welcomed to the team. For a moment, the sting of rejection is gone as I saunter to the field ready to play.

The phrase I am enough is heralded as the epitome of confidence in our culture. We desperately try to prove it with more hard work, more hustle, or more perfection, but inside we feel incomplete. We post our perfectly curated Instagram moments, yet when the camera is put aside, we feel hollow, lacking, and insignificant.

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I Am Accepted By God As His Child

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I Am Accepted By God As His Child

“But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God.” -John 1:12

Many of us carry the scars of rejection and at our deepest core, we long to be accepted. We scan the horizon looking for proof of our acceptance only to feel rejected again. Jesus provides the way for acceptance as we become children of God.

I Am Accepted By God

The Christmas Eve program rehearsals are well underway in our tiny church. The church ladies demand respect and hard work. We rehearse the songs and study our lines well. This is no amateur show. These ladies’ reputations are on the line, and they don’t want any kids to make them look like they’re unprepared for this holiest evening.

Christmas Eve brings everyone to church even those who aren’t faithful the rest of the year. Everyone comes in their new Christmas attire and the kids gather in the basement classrooms while parents and guests are seated in the sanctuary.

The kids wait in their tiny rooms with their teachers. There is lots of excited, wiggly energy. A shy child who doesn’t want to perform clings anxiously to her mother. The Momma peels her distraught child off her leg and races upstairs in the hope the child will calm down. A flustered teacher is left to deal with the fallout of tears.

I have a special role this year. I get to play Mary, the mother of Jesus. I’m a little kindergartener, with a pixie haircut, wrapped in a white tunic with a rope belt tied around my tiny waist. The blue satin headpiece is a thing of my dreams. It’s a long rectangle piece of fabric that sits on my head and falls over my shoulders. I have to be careful when I move.

I feel pure, innocent and deeply accepted. Why would God allow me to have such an important role? I’m nobody. I sing my solo with confidence and am overwhelmed at the delight and the sense of Papa’s love for me.

It’s the very first time I sense God’s acceptance of me, and I’m overcome with joy and peace. It would be another fifteen years and a lot of heartaches before I understand I’m a child of God.

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You are Loved by God, Part 1

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You are Loved by God, Part 1

“The Lord appeared to us in the past, saying: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.- Jeremiah 31:3 NIV

One of the surest ways to understand our identity in Christ is to start with love. We can be completely assured of God’s love based on what the scripture says. When we know, understand, and experience God’s love, we are changed. 

My daddy doesn’t scoop me up when he sees me. Our time together is limited, as he carries the heavy burden of farming and raising pigs. Deep lines, a furrowed brow, and sadness are often reflected on his face.  

He introduces me to weird foods like smoked fish, blue cheese, and sardines. I enjoy our time together in the kitchen because it’s rare. I love to see the warmth in his eyes and a grin on his face in these fleeting moments. 

He calls me unusual nicknames, like “Quackgrass” or “Sowthistle.” It probably makes sense to him since he’s a farmer. But honestly, why would you think it’s cute to nickname your daughter after a weed?

The dinner table isn’t a place for a joyful family banter. Instead, quiet obedience is required. We never know what kind of mood dad will be in. He seems upset a lot, and we do not want to make things worse.

The cares of farming, family, my mom, and probably things he doesn’t understand weigh on him. He escapes the pain by running to alcohol, as the smell lingers on his breath. It’s how we know when we have to be extra cautious and quiet so as not to upset him.

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