Grace on a Thursday: Reading between the posts

I go in and out of blogging.

Some weeks, I can write and write and write. Others, I can barely pull a meal together for dinner, barely make it through the day in one piece, barely anything.

Those struggles aren't always reflected in my posts. It's not that I'm hiding anything. I'm simply forced to drop out for a while. Instead of reading about my days, you may notice my absence from the online world. I stop reading around, I can't find time or energy to comment and participate in the many blogs I enjoy. I post sporadically. And I'm sure most don't notice at all. So many other words and lovely photographs are happy to fill in the gaps I've left behind by my quiet exit.

But today I'm thinking about those spaces, between my posts, particularly when my words are few. Sometimes my jobs and my burdens must push blogging aside. Especially in those spaces, I need grace.

You can be sure, in the quiet, that God is generously offering it to me. And chances are, I'm trying to work out what God is working in. I'm working truth from my brain to my heart, pulling in my emotions and walking in faith. Letting grace be enough. These things take time.

I have a feeling you need grace in the quiet spaces too. Because you're busy, you're hurt, you're fighting the good fight, you're working out your faith in this broken place with broken people and then facing your own brokenness at the same time. It is not easy to live life well. To endure, patiently, courageously.

Between your posts and beautifully executed crafts and recipes, I know grace is at work. Sometimes I notice when you don't post for a week, and I wonder about those pages in your story, flipping by quietly. I know so many women who are hurting. It seems every friend of mine is in a serious battle of some sort. And yet, all that battling is not getting fleshed out online. It often can't be, I understand. Nor should it be, in many cases.

But I know battles are there. I have them. You have them. The places where our hearts are most tried and tested are the pages between our posts. I want to remember that.

So I pray grace over you today, whether you're happily blogging, or withdrawing for a time. May you feel the Lord's favor wrap around you, and meet you in those places. He is enough for you. {Do you believe that?}

In my story, the chapters I can share, I do. And the rest is made up of layers of grace, the sweet favor my Lord has for me. A favor and a delight I don't deserve. A favor that lifts my head and gives me words for tomorrow.

Wordless Wednesday: What dads do

They strap kids into truck beds with bungee cords.

{Don't worry. They never left the campground.}

{Also, who do I actually link up with for Wordless Wednesday? Anyone know?}

{Also, Wordless Wednesday isn't totally serious about the "wordless" part, right?}

You were right. Camping was fun. (Part 1)

So I'm a camper. I camp now.

We had a beautiful weekend, and I would highly recommend the campground at which we stayed, if you are anywhere in Southern California and are planning to camp ever.

It is called Heise Park, and is about five minutes outside of Julian, CA, which is in San Diego county, about 90 miles inland from Oceanside. (But if you leave Orange County too late on a Friday night, it may take you three hours to get there.)



Our friends, who have a trailer, thought we would enjoy Heise Park because it has several brand new REAL log cabins in one part of the campground. We, who do not have a trailer, stayed in one and all agreed: they were AH-MAZING.



Ours had two separate rooms. One room had a full-sized wood cot, a square table with 2 picnic benches, and a gas heater disguised as an old black stove.

The other room had two sets of wood bunk beds with another table and two chairs.



Curtains, a lovely front porch, and hand-crank windows were more charming features.

I believe the sites with cabins were around $50/night. Now that is my kind of camping, if you don't have some sort of trailer.



Here is our view from the porch.

Awesome, huh?

The most stressful things for me were not what I expected. I was okay with the dirt, the food situations, and the work involved. But the lack of hot water was not fun. The bathroom area was far from our particular cabin, and it didn't have hot water. So the first night, we trekked through the cold night air to the bathrooms, and I washed my face in ice water. Also, I didn't know it was going to be BYOT, the T being for towel. So I air-dried, and my hands took a while to recover. Brrr. The next morning, we decided to venture even farther to different bathrooms which did have hot water.

And secondly, we discovered poison oak outside our cabin, just minutes after the six kids were tromping around in the bushes and collecting leaves from various plants for leaf rubbings. I was seriously stressed about one of them getting poison oak. And kicking myself for not looking around first. OK, I still am a little stressed, after I read on WebMD that the skin can start to blister a week after exposure. My kids and skin issues...deep breaths.

But it was fun seeing the wildlife. This area is known for its many wild turkeys. We saw lots of these.

And these. Also wild turkeys, but way cuter.

I really loved our day venturing out to Julian and going apple picking. That day will be my next post. Love the apple picking. My bowl runneth over with apples right now.

Thanks for all the great and funny and encouraging and practical comments on my camping post last week. I really appreciated them, and took advice from many of you! Thank you thank you.

And if you didn't get my initial reference at the very top, well, this is a bit how I feel about camping. Enthusiasm mixed with a lot of ignorance inexperience.

Have a great day and stay tuned...I have a LOT more to tell, and a lot more pictures too.

I was afraid of the dark

{Whenever I guest post for someone else's blog, I like to repost the text on my own blog at a later date just so that I have a record of it. Ya know, for that day I keep telling myself will come, when I pay someone to print out and bind my whole blog onto actual paper? I will, eventually. So this post was featured on Jami's blog back in July. She asked me to write about one thing, and then my post turned into something else completely. Those of you who have just followed top of the page since then, well, it's new for you! Have a great weekend. I may or may not be getting mauled by a bear right now.}


When I was a little girl, I was afraid of the dark. Well, not the dark itself, but scary stuff in the dark. Monsters. Robbers. Bad things. I think my fear, which was honestly for no logical reason, was what led to repeated nightmares. I remember walking the hall to my parents' bedroom nearly every night because I was so scared. This lasted for years. I can even remember one season, when I was about thirteen, where I slept in my brother's room for several months. To say my fear grew to a paralyzing extreme is not an exaggeration. I was never taught what to do with that fear. I was only told to go back to bed. So I did, sometimes crying myself to sleep at the mercy of my thoughts running wild.

And here's the problem. A little child who does not know how to manage her fears grows up to be an adult who does not know how to manage her fears. The only thing that changes is the darkness. A scary, dark bedroom is suddenly nothing compared to the darkness of failure, or betrayal, or abandonment, or any other threat we face as adults. But it was not until I had children and saw what unrelenting damage fear can do in their little lives that I began to lunge into battle against it. For myself, and for them.

I trained my little children, and thus trained myself, to fall into Jesus. Because I did have this in my arsenal:

"For God has not given us a spirit of fearfulness, but one of power, love, and sound judgment."
2 Timothy 1:7
I knew this verse backwards and forwards. I knew it in my head that God had not intended for me to be afraid. Fear is never from Him. And yet I was so plagued by it. Only because of what the Bible said, I knew there must be a way to freedom.

Over time, a couple years into my mothering, I was finding victory over my crippling fears. I was bringing my thoughts to Jesus. I was praying for freedom, I was disciplining my mind to use its "sound judgment" and avoid the thought patterns that got me into trouble. It was working for a while, and I was defeating the many irrational fears I had lived with for so long.

But then the circumstances in my home began to change. Our marriage was being tested and it felt like it may give way. My life got a little messy and suddenly my fears weren't so irrational. They stared me in the face every morning. They were real and ugly and tangible.

And yet. God hadn't changed one bit. He still whispered to me, "Do not be afraid." It seemed an impossible request. Any reasonable person certainly would have been. But He didn't want me to be reasonable. He wanted me to have faith. If I was going to fall, I would fall on Him, and He'd catch me. He assured me of this.

So that's what I did. I was a desperate, frail mess, shaking in my boots, and I brought it all to the Lord. I pushed my heap of feelings and fears to Him and asked Him to deal with it all. He knew what it was all about. I didn't have to explain or itemize. I just mentally pushed the mess away from me and onto Him. It was about time.

My husband and I had a couple rough years. It was a darkness I'd never known. And about halfway through, I can confidently say I was not afraid. I was held. Lifted up. And placed on solid ground until the storm passed. Friends marvelled at the change in me. I was different. Everything was different because I was finally fully trusting God with my life. I knew that did not guarantee smooth sailing. But only that I'd be held up, whatever came my way.

I teach my children to talk to Jesus in their beds at night when they are afraid of the dark. And I do the same. We talk to Him about different things, no doubt. But the same good and loving Lord hears us all. He's caught us when we've slipped into fear, and held us all closely, safely in His shadow. And it couldn't be more true: when I'm remembering He is at my side, ready to catch me no matter what, when I am walking in the truth that God gives me power, love, and sound judgement, fear has nothing to hold onto. Thank you Jesus for giving me freedom from fear.  

I need reasons why camping is a good idea.

Happy Friday, friends.

Well, today marks a big occasion. Today, we leave on our first ever camping weekend as a family. But even bigger than that, this is my first camping weekend of my whole life.

We are going with these friends, and let me tell you. Erin was about to burst with glee when she found out I was converting to camperism. Because here's my camping history thus far. A few months ago, we went camping for one night, about 10 minutes from our house to celebrate a birthday. Didn't really count, right? And then when I was a teen, I camped with another family for one night also. There, I remember thinking that probably 1 out of 4 campsites was occupied by a criminal. 'Cause if I were running from the law, I'd come to this place in the middle of nowhere. I really did think that.

If you're appalled by all this news, as was my husband upon finding out he married a woman who had never camped, seen the Grand Canyon, or Yosemite, in short, my parents are more the Marriott type. The end.

But my husband, however, is in love with the outdoors. He is BFF's with The Nature. The Nature and I have struggled to get along, though, in the past. What with allergies, rashes if I so much as sit on the grass, bug bites, getting dirty, etc., The Nature has not historically been my favorite.

So while I love my husband, and while I love what he brings to my children's lives through his passion and unbelievable expertise in the great outdoors, I am totally and completely inexperienced. And that means I'm a tad nervous. It's a couple hours away and may be pretty chilly. Apple picking may also be involved, which I'm excited about, and I'm always excited about the chance to see wildlife. I'd never feel nervous about the possible encounters with animals. Just criminals.

I know all of you probably love camping. I need a pep talk. One friend reminded me this morning that I'll be good at coming up with cute camping outfits to wear. Yes, true. But any other, perhaps more useful tricks I need to know? Tell me why you think camping's a good idea.

And then please mail me some cortisone cream. 'Cause I may need a lot come Sunday.

Grace on a Thursday: in Kyle's words

It's Thursday, and that means we're probably all ready for a little bit of grace. Things went sideways this week, somewhere. Somehow. Right? We all need it, every day. God's gentle voice, His patient correction. And His forgiveness. I'm so happy to host Kyle and her beautiful words on grace this week.

I met Kyle through Danielle's Headband Swap several months ago. We were paired up to send each other headbands. She has good taste and sent me a rad one. Then, I started following her blog, Like the Rain, and was instantly into her story. Her words, her honesty, her vulnerability about where she is on her journey...I admire that Kyle makes no apologies for being herself, for being real. And her post today! Well, she's so speaking my language. And speaking right to my heart. Show her some love for her awesomeness. Thanks, Kyle, for sharing your thoughts here today.
* * *

this is me.

and this is my fam.

clearly, i'm outnumbered and, yes, i have a boy's name that i have hated for most of my life.

though, i have grown to appreciate it in my ripe old age of 25.

you're welcome, mom.

i try to be as honest and real as i can be with blogging, which may or may not result in you feeling a little too close for comfort at times.

like:

i have my babies at home

i don't like feet

i'm happy to have a bra on by lunch time

and my husband had an affair.

how's that for variety?

but i'm not here to talk about any of those things today.

today, it's grace.

for me, it goes like this.

when i was younger, i always got in trouble for my mouth.

i was the one who gave my opinion, whether is was welcomed or not, gave lots of unsolicited advice, and declared the truth without giving one thought to the ears that were listening.

yeah, i was that girl.

i think that i was coming from a good place, but my execution was all wrong, and most importantly, it's not what God was telling me to do.

there are times in life where, ever so lovingly, God puts us just where we need to be, to experience a specific person or situation that almost mirrors the issues in our lives that we struggle with the worst. 

it's kind of like a thief being stolen from.

where you personally feel what your actions are doing to someone else.

a year or so ago, he placed a handful of those people in my life (all at the same time, mind you).

i. was. horrified.

i mean, i knew that i hurt people sometimes, and i knew that i maybe spoke out of line a time or two, but good grief...was i as bad as they were?

when i really looked at myself, i was worse.

waaay worse.

in that time, surrounded by those people, God was teaching me.

instructing me in the way that he so often loves to do.

he spoke gently to me, he instructed me, he brought people into my life who were listeners not talkers.

people who asked questions without asserting their opinions first.

people who were life to me and gave freely of themselves to me.

and through them i saw what i had been missing.

l.o.v.e.

that's a big one to miss, i know.

but, man, i'm so glad he showed it to me.

that it's ok to speak the truth, it's ok to share my faith, it's ok to say things that may not sit well with others...as long as it's done in love.

that everything is secondary to love.

it's greater than faith and it's greater than hope.

through love my mouth will speak, my heart will give, my hands will open, my feet will move.

and by His grace, i will choose to walk in love.

I call it "Classy Spooky"

I've been trying to incorporate this phrase into many a conversation lately, and Kevin's been cracking up at me. Isn't the word "classy" a funny word? It reminds me of the 80's, for some reason. For those of you who were born in the 80's, well you won't get it.

The deal is that my husband is not a fan of Halloween. I decorated a bit the other day, and I saw him do a couple deep breaths. I get that. Halloween is an opportunity for a lot of dark, scary things to be honored in our culture, neighborhoods, and homes. (Have you been in any craft or home store lately? Look at what they're marketing to us mommies!) So what is my compromising solution? Classy Spooky.



It's decorating festively with no hint towards the creepy, dark elements that can be a part of Halloween. It's protecting my children from the aforementioned store displays for the next month. It's limiting their choice of costumes to those which are actually childlike and fun. It's activities like making my special pumpkin chocolate chip cookies together and coloring vintage-style pictures. It's displaying their precious school crafts from past years.

I choose to celebrate the traditions that I remember as a kid. Trick-or-treating, dressing up in something silly or heroic, and carving pumpkins.



I actually really love those traditions, and even though the holiday has its roots in pagan practices, so do Easter egg hunts and Christmas trees. I'm not about to throw all those things out when they don't mean those things to us. The darkness and religious practices outside of the worship of the one true God do not come near our home.

We celebrate family, memory making, and Jesus over all and in all. My kids know nothing other than a Christ-centered home, and as long as we continue to worship Him, I think it's okay to carry on certain traditions related to certain holidays. If you feel convicted along different lines, I totally and completely respect that. I know God can convict different people of different things, and He requires we live by faith and obedience to His living Spirit at work in our hearts. For me, at this point, this is where I stand. (And I'm not guaranteeing that won't someday change).

I encourage you this season to be intentional about what you allow regarding Halloween. I think it's all too easy to look at what's popular in our culture and forget that evil is real. Satan is real, alive and well here. I get a sick feeling in my stomach ever year when I see small, innocent children dressed up as him trick-or-treating. As if he is a fictional character like Darth Vader.

I'm keeping my spiritual eyes open, and being reminded, myself, of this verse:

The faith which you have, have as your own conviction before God. Happy is he who does not condemn himself in what he approves.
Romans 14:22

I love this verse. It feels freeing. It tells me that I don't have to follow culture or a person's opinion or a church's platform. I follow God. He directs me in the way I should go, and He will correct me if I get off track.



And I'm pretty sure He invented candy corn. Just kidding. Sort of.

How do you handle the issues surrounding Halloween in your home?