It’s a new year this week. Full of the sparkle and shine of possibility. It’s an empty book just waiting to be filled and …I love that.
Many years I’ve pondered slow and deep and filled pages and pages of my journal with reflections and intentions and plans.
the past few years my mom has given me a planner for christmas – such a great gift
This year…I’m not. At least not yet. I am a firm believer that the whole of January is the beginning of the new year and I have that entire month to reflect and plan. So I still have time to change my mind.
But this year, there’s just one thing that keeps resurfacing for me as I look ahead. And behind. A carryover, perhaps, of all I’ve pondered and prayed these last few months.
I want to ask God for wisdom. More. More wisdom. More often. I want to ask Him to guide my decisions. Big and small. I want to ask what He desires me to do. How I should be spend the precious hours He’s given me? Where should I invest energy and attention?
I don’t expect to get a message from heaven each time. Or a miraculous word of guidance.
But I do except to be guided subtly and gently. I expect to be moved, because I move. Not God. I expect my heart and mind to move into alignment with God. I don’t expect words from heaven, but I expect Him to change me as I seek His heart. And as He brings me closer to His heart, I expect my decisions, large and small, to shift.
And I suspect, that on occasion, a clear answer might come.
I’ve spent the tail end of this year completely overwhelmed by everything there is to do. And I can’t at all see how I will accomplish it’s scope and breadth. I can’t figure out how to figure out what to prioritize and what to let go of.
And yet, this stubborn heart is learning slowly. The only way to truly grow is to ask for help. And who better to ask than the God who created the universe, and me?
So that’s it. That’s my one goal. …for now. To ask God for wisdom, for guidance, for help more often. For the small things, not just the big. And to ask that He bring my heart closer to His in the process.
A year is so short and so long all at the same time. Looking back at the past year, I feel that strange dichotomy that many of you probably feel as well: amazed at how quickly the year sped past and in awe of how much life and change was packed into twelve short months.
At the beginning of 2022 we were coming off a week of snow and family fun since most everything was closed due to weather. Thankfully, the roof had gone on our home just a couple of weeks before, so we managed to capture this pretty view!
As we headed into the new year, we really began to settle into life as a family of five. Annie began to sleep pretty well and the boys were thriving in their school. We soaked up lots of time with both sets of grandparents, enjoying living close with a baby for the first time.
In April, we dedicated Annie to Jesus, a simple ceremony where our pastor prays for us and her in front of our church body as we declare our desire to raise her in a way that obeys the teachings of Jesus and to teach her the love and power of God.
About this time it became apparent we would not be moving into our home in the spring, and we began spending long hours caulking, painting and working around the property. My dad and Travis put in countless hours painting both the inside and the outside.
On June 25th, we invited all those who had walked alongside us in this process to dedicate and pray over our new home and write scriptures on the subfloor. Here are a few of the many, many scriptures covering the subfloor of our home.
Over the summer we had an abundance of generous family members and church family members dedicate numerous hours to helping us paint, clean, caulk, install appliances, spread dirt, and more, including while our family was gone at summer camp with the High School Youth Group.
The summer was long, with progress on our home creeping along and so many hours spent working on it, as well as Travis carrying some additional, temporary responsibilities for his job at our church. It was exhausting, but so very worth it.
Finally, on August 31st, my parents packed up our boys and took them on a little vacation in Idaho. Meanwhile,Travis and I began packing in earnest. On September 2nd, a giant crew of people from our church helped us finish packing and taking everything out of my parents bonus room and over to our new home.
My parents had generously allowed us to live with them for two and a half years. We were so excited to be in our long awaited home, and so very thankful for the gift of so much time with them and of a way to afford to build a home for our family.
The next day, my parents brought the boys home from vacation and we were together as a family in our new home at last!
Words cannot describe the gratitude we have for this home or for the people who helped make this home a reality for our family. So much prayer, advice, encouragement and hard work went into this home from so many. As we have said from the beginning, it is God’s house that we get to steward. And in the just over three short months we have lived here, we have been able to fill our home full and experience so much blessing in it already!
As an added bonus, Travis’ parents get to be our first renters in our attached 1 bedroom apartment. We are enjoying being next door neighbors with them and getting some extra time together!
By early October, the church was able to bring on another staff member and Travis’ role transitioned from High School youth pastor to Assistant Pastor, Worship Leader, and Young Adults Ministry. While we deeply miss the High School Youth Group, we trust this change was the right one for us and the church and are thoroughly enjoying serving in these new ways.
In mid October, Travis was able to take two weeks of vacation time where we settled in to enjoy our new home and some much needed family time. We rested and refreshed together as a family. It was such a gift and a much needed reset for our family after the busy year.
Shortly after, we got to celebrate Annie’s first birthday with both sides of our family in our new home, and what a joyous occasion that was! Our sweet Annie is spunky and silly and the center of attention, and she knows it! She loves music and food and her Grandpas. Just before Thanksgiving she started walking and is getting into all sorts of trouble on the regular. We adore her!
James is now 7 and a voracious reader! He is currently obsessed with science and plans to travel to the far reaches of the globe to work with endangered species when he grows up. He is also obsessed with Lego, as any 7 year old should be, and is a very proficient builder. He is even starting to experiment with his own designs. He sets the tone in our family in so many ways, and we are so thankful for him!
Peter is 5 and is learning how to read this year! He is a whiz in math and could easily fly through several lessons of first grade math every day if I let him. He is also obsessed with building things and plans to travel and work with his brother when he grows up. He is also becoming quite the Lego builder as well and loves soccer. You can regularly find him kicking a soccer ball around our driveway. We love our sweet and joyful boy!
We were blessed to host thanksgiving this year, and are moving into this holiday season feeling grateful. God has blessed us richly this past year and we pray that we will move forward into 2023 as joyful recipients and faithful stewards of those blessings.
No matter what comes, we rejoice in the beautiful hope and deep peace of Jesus, and pray that you might as well.
Like a butterfly in its cocoon, waiting to emerge, Jesus spent Saturday in the grave. Stone sealed. Disciples mourning. The rest of Jerusalem moving on with life, like nothing had happened.
Like a butterfly, Jesus didn’t stay cocooned by death forever. He emerged victorious. But that is what we celebrate tomorrow.
Today, is the day in the middle.
The day His followers thought it was all over. The day of mourning and loss and waiting.
I’ve never thought much about this day, Holy Saturday, until this year. But this year, it resonates with me so deeply. This mourning and waiting. This longing for what we don’t have anymore…or don’t have yet.
But unlike the forgetful disciples, we know the hope of Sunday. And because of that day, because of Easter Sunday, we know the hope of heaven that we have waiting for us.
In many ways, we are in a prolonged Saturday, an extension of this Holy day.
But we mourn not as the disciples did that day. Not as Mary mourned. Not as His followers mourned. Not as those *”who have no hope”.
Rather, we mourn the pains and heartaches of this life, knowing that our tears will be wiped away. Knowing that, as Jesus said, we have the Holy Spirit with us always, which is even better than Jesus on earth with us.
We may live in Saturday, but because of the joy we celebrate tomorrow, on Sunday, we know the hope that is coming.
Today’s poem is about this day. Holy Saturday What it must have been like to wake up the day after the crucifixion.
Eyelids flutter open Everything is hurting Head throbbing Throat burning Eyes searing with the pain of yesterday’s tears Mingled in that moment With the first tears of today The day after The day after a nightmare The day after it starts again The bargaining, calculating The begging for it all to be a dream A nightmare An awful nightmare But no. The events of yesterday Begin to roll through Flashback followed by horrible flashback So many questions Why? How? Why? This hurts so much These years… Are they just wasted? Was I a fool? But the miracles. Couldn’t He have done Just one more? To save Himself? Wouldn’t that have been better For everyone? Tears tracing their course down cheek and chin How to face the day The day after With so many questions Unanswered With so much pain Unsoothed
Like a butterfly in its cocoon, waiting to emerge, Jesus spent Saturday in the grave. Stone sealed. Disciples mourning. The rest of Jerusalem moving on with life, like nothing had happened.
Like a butterfly, Jesus didn’t stay cocooned by death forever. He emerged victorious. But that is what we celebrate tomorrow.
Today, is the day in the middle.
The day His followers thought it was all over. The day of mourning and loss and waiting.
I’ve never thought much about this day, Holy Saturday, until this year. But this year, it resonates with me so deeply. This mourning and waiting. This longing for what we don’t have anymore…or don’t have yet.
But unlike the forgetful disciples, we know the hope of Sunday. And because of that day, because of Easter Sunday, we know the hope of heaven that we have waiting for us.
In many ways, we are in a prolonged Saturday, an extension of this Holy day.
But we mourn not as the disciples did that day. Not as Mary mourned. Not as His followers mourned. Not as those *”who have no hope”.
Rather, we mourn the pains and heartaches of this life, knowing that our tears will be wiped away. Knowing that, as Jesus said, we have the Holy Spirit with us always, which is even better than Jesus on earth with us.
We may live in Saturday, but because of the joy we celebrate tomorrow, on Sunday, we know the hope that is coming.
Today’s poem is about this day. Holy Saturday What it must have been like to wake up the day after the crucifixion.
Eyelids flutter open Everything is hurting Head throbbing Throat burning Eyes searing with the pain of yesterday’s tears Mingled in that moment With the first tears of today The day after The day after a nightmare The day after it starts again The bargaining, calculating The begging for it all to be a dream A nightmare An awful nightmare But no. The events of yesterday Begin to roll through Flashback followed by horrible flashback So many questions Why? How? Why? This hurts so much These years… Are they just wasted? Was I a fool? But the miracles. Couldn’t He have done Just one more? To save Himself? Wouldn’t that have been better For everyone? Tears tracing their course down cheek and chin How to face the day The day after With so many questions Unanswered With so much pain Unsoothed
Like a butterfly in its cocoon, waiting to emerge, Jesus spent Saturday in the grave. Stone sealed. Disciples mourning. The rest of Jerusalem moving on with life, like nothing had happened.
Like a butterfly, Jesus didn’t stay cocooned by death forever. He emerged victorious. But that is what we celebrate tomorrow.
Today, is the day in the middle.
The day His followers thought it was all over. The day of mourning and loss and waiting.
I’ve never thought much about this day, Holy Saturday, until this year. But this year, it resonates with me so deeply. This mourning and waiting. This longing for what we don’t have anymore…or don’t have yet.
But unlike the forgetful disciples, we know the hope of Sunday. And because of that day, because of Easter Sunday, we know the hope of heaven that we have waiting for us.
In many ways, we are in a prolonged Saturday, an extension of this Holy day.
But we mourn not as the disciples did that day. Not as Mary mourned. Not as His followers mourned. Not as those *”who have no hope”.
Rather, we mourn the pains and heartaches of this life, knowing that our tears will be wiped away. Knowing that, as Jesus said, we have the Holy Spirit with us always, which is even better than Jesus on earth with us.
We may live in Saturday, but because of the joy we celebrate tomorrow, on Sunday, we know the hope that is coming.
Today’s poem is about this day. Holy Saturday What it must have been like to wake up the day after the crucifixion.
Eyelids flutter open Everything is hurting Head throbbing Throat burning Eyes searing with the pain of yesterday’s tears Mingled in that moment With the first tears of today The day after The day after a nightmare The day after it starts again The bargaining, calculating The begging for it all to be a dream A nightmare An awful nightmare But no. The events of yesterday Begin to roll through Flashback followed by horrible flashback So many questions Why? How? Why? This hurts so much These years… Are they just wasted? Was I a fool? But the miracles. Couldn’t He have done Just one more? To save Himself? Wouldn’t that have been better For everyone? Tears tracing their course down cheek and chin How to face the day The day after With so many questions Unanswered With so much pain Unsoothed
It’s easy to slip into the shadows of fine. It’s easy to quietly let your soul retreating into hiding. It’s easy emotionally step back into a pattern of pretending.
But pretending before others leads to pretending before ourselves and pretending before God.
If we think we are doing okay…
If we think the little things don’t matter…
If we think we can gloss over the messy parts…
If we think it’s fine to avoid certain topics or areas of life…
If we think we need to seem a certain way for the sake of others…
…then we are lying to ourselves.
We are pretending.
And that’s the tricky part about pretending.
We can trick ourselves with our own pretending.
When I focus on presenting myself just right to you…
When I focus on glossing over certain areas of my life…
When I focus on manipulating facts just a bit in my favor…
When I focus on showing you only the good parts…
…I start to become a pretender in all of my life.
I can’t pretend in front of you and not in front of God. Because I’m a whole person, not a network of little pieces functioning together under some sort of contract. I’m a whole person and all of me is affected by every decision part of me makes.
We are whole people and we can’t pretend in one part of our lives and expect it to stop there.
If we spend our time curating an specific image of ourselves to present to those around us, we’ll begin to believe our own lies. We’ll trick ourselves into thinking we are doing just fine or that our lives actually look exactly like what we say they do.
If I only show you the disciplined parts of my life, hiding the messy, lazy, disorganized parts, I’ll begin to believe that I am a disciplined person…with no room for growth.
If I only show you the thankful and joyful parts of my life, hiding the worried, anxious, ungrateful parts, I’ll begin to believe that I am a thankful, joyful person…with no room for growth.
If I only show you the strong and faith-filled parts of my life, hiding the fearful, weak, discouraged parts, I’ll begin to believe that I am full of faith and strength…with no room for growth.
When I think that I have no room for growth, when I think that I’m fine, I’m lying to myself.
So many times I’ve found myself feeling shallow and disconnected and joyless and I am unable figure out why because, “Everything is fine.” Until I realize that the “fine” I’m preaching isn’t real. It’s a lie I started telling others and believing myself and hiding behind when I came before God. It’s a self-sufficient, I-don’t-need-you-God kind of “fine” that isolates me from others, disengages me from God, and starves my soul.
It’s okay to be full of joy, but it’s not okay to pretend we’re that way.
It’s okay to be happy and excited in life, but it’s not okay to pretend we’re that way.
It’s okay to choose thankfulness in all circumstances, but it’s not okay to pretend it’s easy…that it doesn’t require grace and strength from God.
And it’s okay if some struggles are private from others as long as we aren’t pretending we’re fine when we should be asking for prayer.
And it’s okay to not share everything with others as long as we are sharing everything with God.
We don’t want to find ourselves starting down the path of pretending, because…
Pretending before others leads to pretending before ourselves and pretending before God.
And I’m preaching to the choir with this post. I hope you see that. Because I see the tendencies in myself every week. I see my heart start to retreat into the shadows of ”fine”. But I know what’s down that path and I don’t want to go there.
