Grace on a Thursday: wisdom from my dad

I just got this exact text from my dad.

"Hi dear. I have looked for my Sony Walkman for 2 days. Did we by chance loan it to you guys? Dad" (yes, he signed his name in the text.)

I was tempted to reply: "Oh, so sorry, but I accidentally left it in 1988."

(Note to self: get dad an iPod for Father's Day.)

It's a funny story. But despite his technology delays, he is a very wise guy. And a funny guy. In this photo, he's petting a taxidermied turtle at a museum just for the sake of the photo, and probably, to make my kids laugh.

But he wasn't always the wise guy he is today. My dad has quite a testimony.

It's not my place to tell his story for him, but recently he shared with me some words that he used to encourage someone else. I asked him if I could share parts of it on my blog, and he said yes. Just for some background, my dad did not become a believer until he was in his 30's. I remember attending his baptism when I was very young, so I really only ever knew my dad as the redeemed man he was, over these most recent thirty-odd years.

The previous thirty years, however, were not all ones he was proud of. The story goes that at his lowest point, my mom was in the hospital with a fatal condition in her heart and needed surgery. My brother and I were very small. And my dad was completely at a loss as to how to handle it all. After tucking us in bed one night, he felt a deep fear for the first time in his life, fell to his knees, and pleaded for God to save my mom's life. He vowed to give his life to God, and promised to be willing to share his story forevermore with anyone. Well, God agreed to that, I guess, and has given my dad opportunity after opportunity to share his story. He has been a Bible study teacher in their home for many years, and will truly speak to anyone about God. On one such recent occasion, he had these thoughts that I wanted to share with you today. This is what grace can do with a broken man:  


To me, painful things in life brought me back to Jesus. Why do I say that?? Because he is the man of sorrows, the only one who understands true brokenness and pain.



I relate back to the few hours before Jesus' death. He knew he was the Lamb of God being led to the slaughter. He faced mental and physical suffering greater than we all know, along with the grief from all his family and friends that lived it with him.


Jesus and his disciples had the last supper and followed him to a place called Gethsemane which means "oil press". Symbolically, it represents those places in our lives of "deep pressing pain and agony". We each go through our own Gethsemanes in our lives. You may be in the depths of yours today. This was the time and place in Jesus' life that was intimate, painful, and agonizing for him. He asked his buddies to stay near during this difficult time he was going through. He told them "My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death, so remain here and keep watch with me" (Mat 26:36-38) He then fell on his face and prayed "My father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me, yet not as I will , but as you will". (Luke 22:44)


The sad part of this story is that his best and closest friends failed him. They fell asleep during his time of greatest need. What this means to me is that support of family and friends is great. And support groups are great. But there are personal Gethsemanes you must walk through completely alone. You will feel the loneliness while going through the pain. Your best friends may not be able to do all you wish they would. They will try to understand, but often they can't. Some may even turn against you.
Now for the good news - Christ has been there! He knows your pain and agony. And, when you are pressed down in your Gethsemane, that's when Christ will be there for you. You will have all you need in Christ. You can call on him and you will find him. I know, because he has met me in my Gethsemane. And, he will be there again and again for you.


You too may be in anguish and may have hit your physical limit. You may be suffering from a painful injustice. May feel ashamed and fear rejection. This pain and suffering probably grips your soul and sabotages your thought processes. You may feel helpless, enraged, confused, disappointed, depressed, misunderstood, humiliated and at your end! Ultimately, you probably wonder, just as Jesus did, "Why has God forsaken me?" You may feel all this stuff, but hear this---You are not alone! There is hope! And there is help. Jesus is at your side, and He waits for you to take hold of His hand.

No one stays closer than Christ.
No one is more unconditionally accepting than Christ.
No one is more available than Christ.
No one heals deeper than Christ.
No one comforts better than Christ.


Remember, he is the "man of sorrows", intimately acquainted with grief. He understands what there is to lose. He lost everything for your salvation. So whatever you're facing today, your pain is no mistake. It's no accident. In fact, it may be how Christ wants to draw you back to Him. What he has to offer you is his rest, peace, and joyful living down the line. I am telling you this story because it's also my story.


My dad's words are so perfect for us today, the day before Good Friday, where we remember the garden and the suffering Jesus underwent. My dad's words remind us of why He went through what he did.
To save us from ourselves, and to be able to say "I've been there" to us, no matter what. It's what makes Him the best possible comforter.

There is nowhere Jesus wouldn't go to prove that He gets it. He knows sorrow. He knows loneliness. Despair. Abandonment. And He knows us.

And loves us anyway.

ALSO! Please check out Annalea's blog today,

if you want to know what a "Day in the Life" of ME is really like.

Our 2012 Easter Garden

I promised you photos of this year's Easter Garden, so here they are, if you're not tired of this idea yet. I hear many people have been pinning the idea, not just from my blog, but of course from so many others too. I think it may have originated from Ann Voskamp, but perhaps she got the idea elsewhere.

Well truly, the idea was God's; ya know, when He planned on sending His son into the world to pay for our sin? That thing. His idea. 

This year, I wondered if my kids would be less excited than they were to create an Easter Garden last year. But I had my answer when my daughter said, "What if we got lots of pots and planted like a hundred Easter Gardens? And what if we did one in that pot, and that one (pointing all around my garden)..." Yes. They were still really excited. 

Each of us had a job.

Rock placer. 

Watering can guy.

The person who handles spiky things (me).

(Wasn't this lovely red flowering succulent so very perfect for an Easter Garden? It is like a crown of thorns with the most delicate red blooms emerging. It had to go right next to our tomb.)

Path makers.

Any chance to make a very important story come a bit more alive to a child is worth the time and effort involved. Friday night, we'll light candles on the path and place our Lego Jesus in the tomb wrapped in a bit of white cloth.



We will move our stone over the opening. Lego guards will stand watch, and we will wait solemnly for Sunday.

After celebrating thirty-six Easters in my life, I'm still excited.

{And not just because I love marshmallow bunnies.}

The power of a story (why I blog)

Today I'm joining Heather and others to talk about what inspires us as bloggers.

When I thought about it, one idea jumped out at me, and only one.

I'm inspired by the power of a story.

These last few years, particularly through my blogging journey, the Lord has truly opened my eyes to the fact that He is an author. In the book of Hebrews, Jesus is described as the "author and perfecter of our faith." I've basically spent the last two years unpacking the meaning of that phrase here on my blog.

Jesus is an author, and I've come to understand that He is writing a story of my faith. That means I am the heroine in His story for me. I am being written, and that story is unfolding all around me. And most importantly, this story isn't really even about me! It's about Him. His bigger picture. His work. His transforming love. I'm just a character that is sometimes more willing than others to be used in that story. And on worse days, I'm erasing what He's done. I've learned I can work against Him, mainly when I grab the pen and try my hand at writing my own story. But guess what? I have no idea what my story is really about. I have no idea what the future holds and what paths will lead to the best me.

But I do have a passion to share bits of these chapters. For whatever reason, God's given me this unceasing desire to transcribe my story of faith here, for you. Somehow I understand that the power of my story is also in the telling of it. 

And I believe that for you too. Our stories are to be told, not buried, or tucked away in dark closets. Of course, timing and sensitivity are very important for some of those stories. Nonetheless, part of my story is to inspire others to tell theirs. I'm so humbled to know a few blog friends who have said that they started blogging because of my words. Because my courage inspired some in them. God does not let anything in our lives go to waste. Particularly pain. Chances are, if you've gone through something painful, He'll bring someone into your life who is going through the same thing. Part of your own healing and strengthening may be in helping another who is a few steps behind you walk that same painful road.

God always looks for ways to bring beauty from our ashes.

I think it's so important to teach our children that they too are heroes and heronies in a story God is writing in their lives. And how can we teach them they are part of His adventure if we don't recognize our role in our own lives? Are we even aware of the story He's trying to author in us? Are we working against it, trying to control everything ourselves? Or are we actively cooperating, following His lead, and trusting Him even in the darkest parts of the story?

Through all the battles, heartbreaks, victories, and trials of life, the best news of all is that if we are a part of God's story, we are certain to find the happy ending we've always dreamed of. I think that's the definition of hope. Nothing inspires me more than that. Thanks for visiting.

Palm Sunday and a picnic

I'm starting to itch for summer. The thermometer hit 70 degrees today, so I suggested we do dinner at the beach. It was the year's inaugural trip, I think.

And my, it was chilly and very windy. The kids complained of being freezing. Okay. That's real life. Nothing ever goes perfectly, does it? 

But sometimes, something unexpected - like a beach dinner and a lot of wind - can be exhilarating.

And watching the sunset....well, that always leaves one a bit speechless.

We watched the tide creep toward us and the sun reduce to a dot on the horizon. As if they were growing more and more excited for the close of the day, the gulls circled in growing numbers as the sun got lower. In a blink, the dot was snuffed out.

The gulls then rested one by one on the sand. I think they know. Of course, they are full of worship too.

And tonight I remember.

The people laid palm fronds in His path. They lined the road in large crowds. And they shouted loudly,
"Hosanna! Hosanna!" to the king on a colt.

I used to think that meant they were praising Him, like cheerleaders for their star player.

But just recently I learned what "Hosanna" means. It means, "God, save us!"

It's not a cheer. It's a plea.

And in my mind, I can see it on their faces because I recognize the plea in my heart. They are not as much excited as they are desperately eager for a rescuer.

It gave me a lump in my throat that silenced my singing "Hosanna in the highest" this morning at church.

God, save us.

I cried it for my friends who don't know Him. For the people I know who are hurting and suffering. And for my own family, fragile and precious. God, save us.

Tonight, like the gulls, I'm sitting still at the end of the day. I too like the people lay my palms down, lift my hands, and let the prayer Hosanna echo in my soul.

I sometimes eavesdrop

I wasn't going to write tonight.

But I sometimes eavesdrop and I had to get this on paper. For them. For when they are older, and for when they've forgotten they were once best friends.

I let my daughter have a sleepover in my son's room tonight, knowing they would love the change-up, and knowing it was okay if everyone got to sleep a little later than usual from chatting.

Right before I left the room, I could hear that it had started to rain, and I cracked their window so that they could smell and listen to the rain while they fell asleep.

But long after I had tucked them in and headed downstairs, I heard singing. So I crept up the steps and sat next to the bedroom door. My son was just finishing a chorus of Black Jack Baby, the song I've sung him for years now. And then the most precious conversation ensued:


him: When you're all grown up, where are you gonna live? Tell me a location and a state. Like...the beach, or the countryside....

her: (after a thoughtful pause) Either Hawaii at the beach, or California at the beach.

him: Well, I'd choose California, but not Hawaii because of the volcanoes.

her: There aren't any volcanoes in Hawaii.

him: Yes there are.

her: Well they're not erupted. That was thousands of years ago and they can't erupt again.

him: (long pause) I like it when you're in here with me. (another long pause) You make me feel comfortable.

her: (thoughtful) Comfortable.

him: Yeah, when you're around me. (long pause) I'm going to start sleeping now, okay?

her: Me too. (long pause, and sleepily) The pitter-patter is like a lullaby.


I want them to stay exactly this way forever and ever. And I know they won't, which I why I had to write it. Just a bit of stopped time right here, on this screen.

That's all I really wanted to say.

Good night, friends.

My Didn't-Do list

Here's me sitting in total darkness sipping green tea on my couch. I've been sick for three days. Just a cold, but still annoying. What's not annoying is silence and darkness and tea.

So in my most casual post ever, this is where I'm at. Right now.

I like to make to-do lists and check off all the boxes. If I handwrite one, I put a dash before every item. Then, once I do the thing, I put a vertical line through the dash so it ends up like a plus mark. That's how I know what has been done and what hasn't. It's a system.

Well, systems are not working so well lately. And since I am just too far behind, I thought I'd share my Didn't-Do list.

- take down the string of red heart doilies in the kitchen

- change the shamrock placemats to Easter ones

- plant our Easter Garden

- get out the Resurrection eggs so that my kids can be learning about the real meaning of Easter

- do anything related to Lent. anything at all.

- sweep my porch

- vacuum my carpet (which is not entirely my fault. in the garage, we found a chrysalis hanging from the cord. something is having an awesome metamorphosis in that thing, and I will have gross carpet covered in crumbs and craft bits until that thing emerges, so help me God.)

- get any spring flowers from Trader Joes to put in all the cute vases I have around here

- read blogs

- make Easter baskets for my kids

- report to the HOA how some bad person stole all the gasoline out of my husband's car the other night! (yes they did. it was parked in our driveway. how shocking is that, btw?) 

- have healthy boundaries with members of the PTA asking for my participation next year

And ughhh, this is getting depressing. I am drowning in unfinished business, undone chores, and didn't-do lists like never before.

But guess what. When I talked to God about it last weekend, He said NBD. Yes, He may have stolen that from Julie. But nonetheless, He said it. "No big deal." He was like, "Really? Are those things all that important right now? Is it the end of the world if you get take-out a couple extra times, decorate for Easter next year, and have a porch littered with leaves? Why not get us both out of the box you have us in, and LET IT GO."

I said, "Hmm. Okay."

So basically, the summary of this post is to say that I'm at peace with my chaos right now and even my house's lack of Easter cuteness. It's not totally easy to let go of traditions and certain kinds of order, two things I love. I won't lie. But what is easy is opening my mind up to the fact that God can surprise me with who He is. He hates boxes. As soon as I put Him in one - like the "He wants me to do these 10 things to prepare myself and my family for Easter" box, He crushes it and says, "Now what?"

I like that kind of challenge. I like learning new things about God. And most of all, I like it when He offers me freedom when I need it most. He unburdened me this week. Thanks God.     

Have a great weekend. If you come to my house, just don't expect to be invited in.
Well, until the thing in the chrysalis hatches.
I don't even think they call it "hatching," do they?

Grace on a Thursday: in the 'even thoughs'

At the retreat I went on last weekend, we studied Habakkuk. I guess I've never really read Habakkuk for what it is. Or maybe God hadn't opened the eyes of my heart to its meaning until this weekend. Regardless, it's quite the powerful book for only three chapters, filling about two pages of my Bible. It met me right where I am. {Don't you love it when God does that?}

Here's the outline. Habakkuk is the prophet to the people of Israel who have turned their backs on God and are involved in all kinds of wrong ways. He pleads to God, asking how long He will wait to answer his prayers for revival. He complains,

"How long, oh Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen." (1:1)

God answers (in my summary), "Oh, did you think I wasn't paying attention? Well I am. And guess what. My response is not what you're expecting. Instead, I'm going to allow the most brutal nation on earth to bring war on you guys. That is what I'll use to discipline my children and bring them back to me."

Habakkuk is one emotional guy. I love him for that. With beautiful candor, he complains again to God, saying, basically, "Seriously? Seriously, God. THAT is your plan? That sounds really, really not like what I'd do." In my Bible, the heading actually says, "Habakkuk's Second Complaint."

But then. There is this beautiful verse. Habakkuk says:

"I will stand at my watch, and station myself on the ramparts;

I will look to see what he will say to me." (2:1)

He pulls himself up out of this pit of complaining and despair and weariness from the Lord's silence in his life. He goes up, lifts his eyes to heaven, and he waits, in faith. He watches. And he expects the Lord to act.

In His faithfulness, God answers yet again, and assures Habakkuk that He is indeed just. That His discipline does not last forever, and that the evildoers will be repaid for their pride and violence against Israel. His last statement seems to say, "Remember who you're talking to, here."

"But the Lord Almighty is in his holy temple;

let all the earth be silent before him." (2:20)

Yet the bad news hasn't changed. Destruction will come. That's God's choice. It is here that Habakkuk offers a final prayer, which is all of chapter three. He spends almost all of it listing out the past, ways God has shown faithfulness to Israel. He is showing us the power of remembering God's goodness in our lives when we are in tough times. He writes it all down. I get the sense that he feels better for a bit, while recalling God's mighty acts on behalf of His people.

And at the end, Habakkuk gets back to the current reality. The land and the people will be devastated. It is a sobering truth. Read the last three verses of the entire book: 

Even though the fig trees have no blossoms,

and there are no grapes on the vines;

even though the olive crop fails,

and the fields lie empty and barren;

even though the flocks die in the fields,
and the cattle barns are empty,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord!
I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!
The Sovereign Lord is my strength!
He makes me as surefooted as a deer,
able to tread upon the heights. (3:17-19)

His attitude is absolute grace. Nothing else could allow him to rejoice and find such strength in the Lord than God's grace buoying him up in light of the challenging season to come.

I have to ask myself, "What are MY 'even thoughs'?" Where am I still down in the pit of complaining over areas in my life that I did not expect? What are the areas of devastation that may indeed be allowed by the hand of God for a good reason?

Where might I turn these disappointments into opportunities to rejoice, even when there is not yet light at the end of the tunnel?

Which are your 'even thoughs'? I'm sure many of us will face each of these at some point.

Even though my husband lost his job...
Even though we haven't been able to conceive...
Even though my parents are gone...
Even though my friend betrayed me...
Even though my marriage is broken...
Even though I'm sick...
Even though I can't seem to hear God's voice...
Even though I've made horrible mistakes...

Can you answer like Habakkuk? Yet I will rejoice in the Lord?

I'm trying. I really am.

Because the sovereign Lord is my strength. In His grace, He makes my feet like the deer's, and helps me go up to my high places.