He Answers: [The Prayer I Forgot]

He Answers: [The Prayer I Forgot]

A few weeks ago, over an emotional conversation, I told a friend, "I'm surprised I'm not crying right now. I've cried, or at least teared up, pretty much every day for the past few months."

And it’s true.
The hard of the past year has brought me to a place where tears seem as though they are ready and waiting at any moment. I never was that person: a crier. I never was her.
But now, maybe I am.

  <img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1545043720494-PNKKNI25COJYSTBLHSOU/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kDHPSfPanjkWqhH6pl6g5ph7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0mwONMR1ELp49Lyc52iWr5dNb1QJw9casjKdtTg1_-y4jz4ptJBmI9gQmbjSQnNGng/IMG_1408.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>

The next day, sitting on my couch, reading a book about how God does what He says He will do, about how God always answers prayers, I teared up again. That all too familiar burning behind my eyelids and simultaneous hardening in my throat. I closed my eyes and let the emotion rise. And fall.

It often happens that way. The saddness rising, full and intense, and then, nearly as quickly, it begins to fade leaving only a dampness in my eyes and ache in my heart.

I sighed.
There it was for today.
Would I ever again make it through I day without tears?

But at the same time this thought sighed its way through my tired brain, I turned my focus to noticing.
Noticing the tears.
Noticing the sudden surge of emotion.
Noticing the when and the how and knowing that if I noticed and waited, just maybe the Holy Spirit would whisper the why into my heart.

And in this moment, He did.

I don’t remember quite when, so maybe it was just always this way, but I learned to be pretty good at holding my tears. Holding on to them till a more appropriate time. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that the problem with tears is that they don’t work like this.

Emotions surge at times I often expect them the least and if I don’t allow myself to feel them in the moment, they often never come at all.

I held in tears over my grandfathers death so many times, that when the funeral finally came, and it was “time” to cry, I couldn’t. I still have never cried over his death.

As years have passed, I’ve grown to hate this part of myself. And more than a few times, I’ve found myself pleading with God that He teach me to cry. That He would allow me to release the emotions bottled up inside me at the right times.

I’ve begged Him to grant my heart the release and relief of tears.

I want to cry in joy and in pain. I want to cry for myself and I want to cry with others. I want tears to come and I want them to mean that I’m letting down my walls, the ones I’ve built so high and strong.

I noticed and I waited. And He answered.

”This is what you prayed for.” He whispered. I’m answering.”

The tears filled my eyes again.

And once again, I knew that He answers. That He really, truly, absolutely, completely, for sure answers prayers.

I used to think that if I felt nothing, saw no answer, heard no voice during prayer or immediately after, then it meant the prayer was answered no. Maybe I didn’t consciously think that, but I felt it deep down, and I often lived like it was true.

The tearing of this past year and the chronicling of when He speaks has shown me a truth I never really saw before.

He answers.

God answers prayer.
He does.
He really truly does.

The reason we miss it so often is that by the time our answer does come, we’ve forgotten that we prayed for it in the first place. And so we don’t notice.

But if we take the time to make note and take note and notice, we will find that God answers prayers all the time.
He really does.

I think I first prayed for tears in high school, over ten years ago. And once again, I’m tearing up just writing these words, because the realization that He answers is simply so overwhelming.

It’s not often immediate.
It’s sometimes different than how I imagine.
But it is real. He answers.

And on a random Tuesday, early in the Christmas season, the Holy Spirit whispered into my heart to remind me that my tears were an answered prayer.

Be blessed

Fall: Don’t Forget

Fall: Don’t Forget

I sat on the park bench watching.
Watching my husband chase our three year old up and down the ramps and slides.
Watching our one year old climb up and down the slide.
Watching older kids run past shouting and laughing.
Watching the overcast sky fade from pale grey to dark gray.

The breeze was light, but just cool enough to feel that first hint of fall.

Fall.

  <img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1539889710948-53U6H7OHR2EQN7RZJH4A/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kNPKVmbt05aEWnErXou3fDl7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0tb-hnCqoepq4X8c1traqO_6-8vaS3UGENu9QP5pfFlLbyLeIY6QzmBTG9h7XCKkkQ/IMG_0515.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>

I looked around, feeling that warm-but-not-hot air and the ever-so-slightly-cool breeze winding around me. I had forgotten.

In the long, hot months of Florida summer, I had forgotten that another season would come. And I had forgotten how wonderful it is when it does.

I sat there silently marveling.
Marveling that somehow I could forget that summer would be over and the heat would fade and we could go outside in the evening into the most perfect weather.
Marveling that I could somehow forget that the heaviness of summer heat and humidity would be replaced by the lightness of a cool sunny day.
Marveling that we are there already, at that point in the year where we can feel the season changing.

Heat to cool.
Heavy to light.
Summer to fall.

And I had forgotten.

But here we are. The first hints of the joy to come already showing up around me.

And I as I sat breathing in the cool, light air around me, I felt a whisper in my heart that I’ve come to learn as His voice.

”Don’t forget what’s coming.”

Don’t forget what’s coming.

This season of life has been so long. It’s felt like the summer, hot and smothering and heavy, and to be honest, I’ve found myself forgetting. Forgetting that the season will change. Forgetting that although God allows us to walk through the valley, He will also lead us beside still waters. He will also restore our souls.

"Don’t forget what’s coming,” He whispered.

And to be honest, I can barely remember what a season of freedom in certain areas of life feels like, because this season has been long. So very long.

But I know Whom I believe. Whether I remember what a change in season feels like or not, I will trust what He says.

This year, as our environmental season shifts around me, I have a whole new reason for hope. Hope that this season of the soul is shifting too.

Fall: Don’t Forget

I sat on the park bench watching.
Watching my husband chase our three year old up and down the ramps and slides.
Watching our one year old climb up and down the slide.
Watching older kids run past shouting and laughing.
Watching the overcast sky fade from pale grey to dark gray.

The breeze was light, but just cool enough to feel that first hint of fall.

Fall.

  <img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1539889710948-53U6H7OHR2EQN7RZJH4A/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kNPKVmbt05aEWnErXou3fDl7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0tb-hnCqoepq4X8c1traqO_6-8vaS3UGENu9QP5pfFlLbyLeIY6QzmBTG9h7XCKkkQ/IMG_0515.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>

I looked around, feeling that warm-but-not-hot air and the ever-so-slightly-cool breeze winding around me. I had forgotten.

In the long, hot months of Florida summer, I had forgotten that another season would come. And I had forgotten how wonderful it is when it does.

I sat there silently marveling.
Marveling that somehow I could forget that summer would be over and the heat would fade and we could go outside in the evening into the most perfect weather.
Marveling that I could somehow forget that the heaviness of summer heat and humidity would be replaced by the lightness of a cool sunny day.
Marveling that we are there already, at that point in the year where we can feel the season changing.

Heat to cool.
Heavy to light.
Summer to fall.

And I had forgotten.

But here we are. The first hints of the joy to come already showing up around me.

And I as I sat breathing in the cool, light air around me, I felt a whisper in my heart that I’ve come to learn as His voice.

”Don’t forget what’s coming.”

Don’t forget what’s coming.

This season of life has been so long. It’s felt like the summer, hot and smothering and heavy, and to be honest, I’ve found myself forgetting. Forgetting that the season will change. Forgetting that although God allows us to walk through the valley, He will also lead us beside still waters. He will also restore our souls.

"Don’t forget what’s coming,” He whispered.

And to be honest, I can barely remember what a season of freedom in certain areas of life feels like, because this season has been long. So very long.

But I know Whom I believe. Whether I remember what a change in season feels like or not, I will trust what He says.

This year, as our environmental season shifts around me, I have a whole new reason for hope. Hope that this season of the soul is shifting too.

Forward and More

I’ve noticed a pattern in my heart and in my prayers.
A reaching back.
A trying to recapture the past.
A spiritual discontent that glamorizes the past.

  <img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1464880016536-BUQZQEWDZBJVG1NWGY38/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kJbosy0LGK_KqcAZRQ_Qph1Zw-zPPgdn4jUwVcJE1ZvWhW7QUl7Hlx1Ovi-Ue4YINkJFbgE-7XRK3dMEBRBhUpzhviwqwtE9yC6uLa6VoQLu453fXAi7YtDwqrKRgGbRYyvjUiXYqXwjGbQOg3qoRIw/image.jpg?format=original" alt=""/>

That time when I was reading God’s Word everyday.

Those months where I prayed faithfully every morning.

The season when I read God’s Word in little chunks all day.

That point in time when I was always singing and worshiping.

Those times when it was better…when I was better.

And over again I find myself reaching into the past to shame my present. Whatever I’m doing now to seek God and know Him, isn’t good enough, because I could be, should be, doing this too and that as well…after all, I did them then.

But in the midst of one of these self-deprecating internal monologs, I realized…

I don’t want to go back.

I don’t want to go back to those days. Because in those days I was immature in that one way and God hadn’t yet started working on me in that other way and I was so naive in those areas too…

I don’t want to go backward spiritually.

And I shouldn’t want to go backwards spiritually! Because however glorious that time and season was, however rich my devotional or prayer life, God has grown me so much since then.

I don’t want to go back to that season, I want to go forward into a new season. 

I want to grow forward and I want grow more.

I want to go forward into the new seasons and times God has for me.

I want to grow more in my discipline to seek relationship with God.

I want to go forward with God.

I want more of God’s Spirit in me.

I want to strain ahead into the things God has for me, deepening my love for Him as I go. 

I don’t want to go back to how things were, I want to to go forward into more. I want to go forward into deeper with God. I want to go forward into new and settled and deeper and higher and hard and good.

Because if moving into the future is not drawing me closer to God, is not drawing me deeper into relationship with Him, and is not pushing me forward in serving and loving His people, then something is seriously wrong.

I want the days and years of my life to add up to growth and forward motion. But that will never happen if I spend my time pining for the past.

I want to go forward in my walk with God. I want more of Him working and in through me. And that will never be found by reaching back.

So I’m learning to be thankful for what has passed in my life, to learn from it, the good and the bad, and yet to point my eyes and heart forward. 

I’m heading forward and coming for more.

Be blessed

The Rock Won’t Move: {Postpartum Days + Growth}

*”When the ground beneath my feet gives way
And I hear the sound of crashing waves
All my world is washing out to sea.

I’m hidden safe in the God who never moves
Holding fast to the promise of Your truth
You are holding tighter still to me.

The Rock won’t move and His Word is strong
The Rock won’t move and His love can’t be undone
The Rock of our salvation”*

“The Rock won’t Move” by Vertical Church Band

  <img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1447858494471-CX1ZDVV76ZNE3X82G0UY/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kGdXwE-vebEpgb33VwdtsTxZw-zPPgdn4jUwVcJE1ZvWQUxwkmyExglNqGp0IvTJZUJFbgE-7XRK3dMEBRBhUpyFXBTrd8RtdLuD2xTt52BcbibHP9HAWTuiNyjdIhZkDRmM2LuhCrpPu_cqK6msTYI/image-asset.jpeg?format=original" alt=""/>

In those first few post partum weeks, I watched myself emotionally swing back and forth so quickly. I watched the way I handled the fears and the exhaustion (usually coming at the same time)…

And I’m thankful. I’m so thankful for all the ups and downs I’ve had in my life. I’m thankful for the things I’ve learned and the habits I’ve formed to this point.

If I hadn’t walked through hard days and battled to come to the throne of Jesus anyways…

If I hadn’t failed and failed and failed and had to practice the grace daily offered to me in Jesus…

If I hadn’t desperately needed to learn how to preach grace to myself….

If the storms hadn’t come and I hadn’t learned hard lessons in the past…

…then I wouldn’t have the tools I needed to handle the emotions of today.

If I hadn’t learned how to lean heavily on the Rock, then I’d be swinging hard on the pendulum of emotions.

Don’t get me wrong, these past thirteen weeks haven’t been all smiles and peace. I’ve had my tearful meltdowns and my fearful sleeplessness. But I’ve also seen myself pull up short when the emotions come swinging in. I’ve also preached myself back into leaning on the Rock. I’ve also humbled myself to listen when my husband has encouraged and challenged me to stick close to Jesus in the moments that I’m crumbling under the weight of motherhood.

And there’ve been moments, when I’ve found myself swinging hard on the emotional pendulum, but instead of leaning into the swing I’ve reached out to the Rock and He has caught me.

  <img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1447858657374-MIJK097OLO72SCPIJXDY/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kLgvo6PFqTTBbon-HE0qI7NZw-zPPgdn4jUwVcJE1ZvWQUxwkmyExglNqGp0IvTJZUJFbgE-7XRK3dMEBRBhUpzY3sprCwfz1t0gVVCJT-5eEaF3ZTUyUPgSdior3sAQ0oRg_RzXSXz_8bxH9pRMeTA/image-asset.jpeg?format=original" alt=""/>

And I’m thankful.

Thankful for His arm that catches me.

Thankful for His truth that steadies me.

Thankful for people who point me back to Him.

And thankful that I’ve see growth.
…that I’m not responding the way I would have a year ago or two years ago or five years ago. And thankful because the times I see myself still respond in ways that are wrong, I know he’s not finished with me yet.

I know this is just the beginning of a whole new process of sanctification. I know He’s going to keep growing me and refining me and teaching me.

And I know that someday, another storm will come and I’ll look back thankful for today’s lessons in steadying my heart on Him.

No matter how off track I get, He won’t move or change. Because He is the Rock of our salvation.

Be blessed

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