More (grace) Than I Can Handle

Our kitchen is under construction, we're picking out splinters from a plywood floor for now and our groceries are thrown into a rubbermaid.
My son only wants to wear underwear and eats twice as often as the average 3 year old.
My 6 year old has been on a jeans strike for over 2 years now, also uncomfortable socks, tights, or sweaters make her squirm and scream in protest.
My one year old is walking now, splashing in the toilet and finding nails to play with in our construction zone are some of her favorite activities.
This latest pregnancy has me on limited activity...no vacuuming, no carrying baskets full of laundry, no exercise. "Don't be lifting up your kids," warns the doctor as I try not to laugh.
I hoard stuff in our minivan... when I don't, I have nothing that I need. So it's not unusual to sit on cushions of jackets and coupons.

Getting a visual yet?

More than I can handle. Way more...


So, when I tried to get in touch with someone to confirm an order yesterday for the fourth consecuitive day and she finally answered the phone seemingly annoyed to talk to me, I wasn't thrilled.
Then I heard her yell, "Stop pushing the buttons on the dryer, the clothes are trying to dry!!!"

And I smiled.

"Sorry, I have three kids," she said, "and I try to do this work from home. And it's kind of hard sometimes."

"Then we're in the same boat!" I said. "I have three also, a fourth on the way, and attempt to work a little from home. It's difficult, really difficult."

Her audible sigh of relief to have someone on the same page as her was just as comforting to me.

"This IS difficult. It really is!" she confessed back.

We stopped the business talk for a moment and went over the ages, genders of our kids. There was only a difference of months with each. She confided in me that her youngest was completely unexpected and was born with abnormalities, mostly cosmetic, but also indirectly affecting typical day-to-day stuff.

I listened and empathized as this stranger poured it all out to me, tears behind her phone.

Then she stopped herself and surprised me by declaring, "But the Lord gave us this baby. And really, he's healthy otherwise. I just keep reminding myself over and over that the Lord wouldn't give me more than I can handle."

I gently responded, "Can I tell you something... I hear you, but I think we really like to misuse that verse. With Him, we won't be tempted more than we can handle. But if we were only given circumstances that we could handle, we really wouldn't need Him right?"

"Yes. Yes! And I'm leaning into Him now more than ever."


We talked some more about our kids and eventually got to the business end of things, running numbers and specifics. She said, "Can I ask you something... how are you even doing this right now?"

I said, "Well, I buckled all of my kids into the minivan and pulled into a parking lot to have this conversation with you."

We both laughed and she actually thanked me, saying she'll have this conversation to think on when the moments get tough.

---

I know I've been given more than I can handle...but I'm so glad I have Him, who will never leave or forsake me in my mess, and who has surely poured on me more Grace than I can bear!


"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”  -Deuteronomy 31:6

Change of Address

Doug and I have moved as a family 6 times in less than 6 years. From my parents place to a rented shed, to an apartment with a mountain view, to a rancher (which was my pretty word for trailer), to his parents place, to an old farmhouse, and finally to our perfect family home we own now. And I plan to stay here for awhile. A really, long, settled while.


It's not like we were moving cross-country though; these half of a dozen relcations were just from NJ to Central PA or simply to the next town over to a place with a little more space (we also added a kid every other year or so). Our last move was less than a mile away just to have the unexpected opportunity to buy. Even still, it's a pain. The packing, the cleaning, the moving, the unpacking, and then...the dreaded change of address. Everything and everyone has to know you moved. I'm almost there... I still have some mail forwarded and some I have to pick-up in-person at my in-laws!

------

I've been in Exodus in the Old Testament for almost two months now. It's the amazing story of Moses and how God shows His power and faithfulness to the people of Israel. It's thrilling, and long, and incredible, and a tad specific, and holy, and ancient, really ancient. But this past week, as I was reading some of God's instructions to His people from thousands of years ago, I realized God made quite the drastic move, a serious, unbelievable change of address.

"Have the people of Israel build me a holy sanctuary so I can live among them," God instructed Moses to tell the Israelites in Exodus 25:8.

How incredible to have God live among his people, but how much more incredible is His set-up now!

I flipped straight to 1 Corinthians... in chapter 6, verse 19, the apostle Paul asks the Christ followers in the city of Corinth, Greece this: 

"Don't you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God?"

After God sent His Son to dwell on Earth, He sent His spirit to dwell in us. Quite intense relocations from a holy sanctuary built by the hands of the Israelites to the grounds of the Earth to me. Me. God lives in me. This body of mine He created houses His very own spirit. Not just among His people, but within His people. And all because of Christ and what He accomplished in order to make us holy.
We have been made into a sanctuary, suitable for God to dwell. What a change of address! What an incredible gift. What a responsibility.

He built me. He made me holy. I am the temple. His spirit was given to me. And He lives...in me.

Thank you, Lord, for moving. I'm so glad I opened the door.

"Here I am! I stand at the door and knock." -God

(Revelation 3:19-20)

Singing

We celebrated our son's tank engine, third birthday over the weekend. I'll admit I get a little into in my kids' themes, but I love it because they love it. It's a chance to single out each kid, ask them what their heart desires, and (work my butt off to) magically fulfill their high hopes. One day a year just for them.

As I was prepping early morning for the party, on top of lists running in my head, I kept thinking on the tradition of singing over birthday individuals, little or grown, each year. It serves to celebrate and honor the person; it's the culmination of the birthday party! But if you really think about it, it's kind of strange having everyone sing a song in unison surrounding a single person. Not that strange though, because God does exactly the same with us. The Bible tells us,

"The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love He will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing." (Zephaniah 3:17)

God rejoices over you with singing, just like we all do to our kids on their birthdays. With smiling, taking delight in their every move, being physically next to them, and, if even for just a moment, putting everything else aside to simply sing.

He sings! Over you. To you. For you. I wish I could really grasp how incredible that is.


Every year, for everyone we know, we sing. Every second, for those He knows, God sings.

I love that when we sang to my son, he sang right along, with a "Happy Birthday to me" version. With God we are called to sing-along as well, not to ourselves and our own glory, but straight back to him. "Sing, O Daughter of Zion; shout aloud, O Israel! Be glad and rejoice with all your heart, O Daughter of Jersusalem." (Zephaniah 3:14)

Insert your name above and sing. Sing with Him. Sing back to Him.

  Sing because He's singing over you!

Honeymoon Phase

My hubby and I recently celebrated 4 years married, the honeymoon phase is long gone, but (most of the time) we enjoy spending time together, that is when we carve out the time to do so. But with any extended relationship, comes changes to its dynamic, comfort level, effort involved; it's what doesn't change that's key.

Earlier in the summer, the two of us got away for the weekend. Away from the busyness of three little ones, the noise of  media, and all of the distractions that follow us around. One night, we sat outside on a bench and watched the sun set over the Chesapeake Bay. As we enjoyed the stillness, we couldn't help but to watch a young couple walk down to the dock together and adorably take a seat, feet hanging over, side-by-side. As the girl leaned back onto her hands and innocently swayed her feet over the water, her fancy flats flew out into the bay. She laughed in embarrassment and with little hesitation, her guy stripped off his polo and jumped right in to the unknowing depths of the bay, paddling out in search of her shoes.
Doug and I enjoyed our entertainment and both agreed out loud, "No way they're married!" He confessed if it was us, 4 years in, he would have just counted the shoes a loss. He did admit it may have been different say 5 years ago.

In the beginning of any relationship, there is so much to talk about, so much to learn, so much to look forward to. Everything seems so new and exciting. An eagerness to see, hear, hold, give. A wanting to do anything for them, being alert to any opportunity to serve them, prove your affection to them.

Several years in, you may feel like you already have heard all there is to hear, with not much left to learn, wondering if the best has come and gone. Things become routine, habitual. Eagerness turns to expectedness and where's the desire to prove something that's already being proclaimed?

I'm not saying that the hubby and I are there, there are mundane moments for sure, but if we didn't put time aside, to talk, to pray, to hold one other, to watch sunsets, to simply enjoy, I'm sure we would be. Stuck there, not knowing how to get back to the initial infatuation and excitement.

And this relational dynamic is just the same with my Heavenly Father, Savior, Best Friend. It's been years now, a decade maybe, going from knowing nothing, to wanting to know everything, to feeling sometimes like I've now heard it all, again and again. What's new? What's left? What's to look forward to? Going from full surrender of how can I serve you, to what do I have time for? What am I comfortable with?

But just like a husband and wife, we should never allow ourselves to get stuck there. It's an unproductive, destructive place to remain. The cure for my husband and I is time away to enjoy, rekindle, remember... the same for God and I.

There is much left to know about my husband, even more left to realize about my God. I want to be filled with joy each time my husband returns home, I want to overflow with joy each time I return Home. I want to serve, because I love and because I am loved. Because of a promise I made. I want to remain excited, with each date, with each time I open my Word. So much to look forward to, more than I can comprehend.

I want weeks, seasons, years, generations to pass, and to find myself willing and wanting. Willing to jump in, clothes and all, swimming, searching, serving. And while I know all relationships change as people do, I need most to remain grateful. Unchanging gratitude, an attitude which has the ability to keep any relationship new.

Then we your people, the sheep of your pasture,

    will thank you forever and ever,

    praising your greatness from generation to generation. 

   ~Psalm 79:13

Humility and the Harvest

"Yes! I did it, I did it!" I shouted at the first sight of little tomatoes on plants I had started from seed months ago. I felt so accomplished with an actual visual result of my hard work, something which can be hard to spot in the child-rearing industry. My 6-year-old caught me in my celebratory dance from across the yard and came walking over with a hand-on-the-hip, side-smirk in-tact, ready to dish out some truth.

"Mommm," she said with a slight roll of the eyes, "you didn't really do anything. God did."

She then explained to me I may have planted some seeds and added some water (when I remembered to), but asked me if I was the one to tell it to grow? I actually tried to defend my work trying to get a little more credit on my behalf, but she just looked back at me over the tops of her eyes as if to say "Come on, Mom" and all I could eventually do was laugh in humility. 

Now, later in the season and with a harvest this spoiled suburban gal didn't think was possible, I need to keep reminding myself of that simple correction from my daughter. Remembering that it's not about my doing, it's about God's doing, and in the moments I start taking credit when it's due to Him or try intervening my way where I know He has it handled, I need to take a big step back and remember, I really didn't do anything, and more importantly, I don't need to. Maybe God has a few seeds for me to plant here and there, maybe a little extra water and care can come from me, and I need to be ready for that, but when it comes to growth, when it comes to movement, when it comes to action, that may all be beyond me, and that is good!

When I put those seeds in the ground, I had to trust. Trust they would sprout. Trust they would grow. Trust they would produce something! (Btw, I'm in over my head with tomatoes at the moment!) But the main activity on my part that was required throughout that whole process was trust. 

I'm writing and sharing this to myself, perhaps to you too, reflecting on where I'm attempting to take control and credit over something that is His. Exhausting myself trying to tell something to grow when I've never had the power to do that anyway. Trust Him, trust His time, trust His ability, trust His heart. There is a harvest on the way, but it has little to do with me, and much to do with Him.

...In simple humility, let our gardener, God, landscape you with the Word, making a salvation-garden of your life." ~James 1:21

Jealous

I don't have much time... I'm sitting here typing one-handed with a baby on my lap and bottle in the other hand. I got two other munchkins riding anything with wheels down the front walkway with a side-smirk showing through because they know it's past bedtime. But I wanted to get this down, if just for myself, before my head hits the pillow seeming to erase the day's wisdom, etch-a-sketch style, gone.

I spent a good amount of time this morning replenishing a tree I've been turning into the local gathering place for the neighborhood birds. The tree tavern serves cardinals, jays, finches, woodpeckers, and hummingbirds... it certainly brings out the dork in me. But colorful visitors, especially while washing dishes (again) or during a particularly quiet naptime, brings variety and company right to my window.
I had restocked four feeders and added some fresh water; there was already a ton of activity and a hummingbird darting around me in anticipation with the nectar still in my hand.
But later, while my littlest ones were asleep, and I had a moment to stare and enjoy, there was nothing. Not one bird. And I was given a thought, a complete, uninterrupted thought:

If they know there is constant nourishment here, why would they even bother looking anywhere else? 

Oh, I actually said aloud.
Wow, is that me God? I do that too?
You too are constant. You are sustaining. You are abundant. You are never-ending. And yet I still look elsewhere sometimes. What else is out there? Is there something better, more convenient, tastier?
I've tasted and I've seen, so why ever leave, if even for a second, that Good, Life-giving Source.

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.'" ~John 6:35

In that moment, I actually found myself jealous for these birds I've come to know, come back, come back, where did you go? I'm right here and ready to constantly feed you, fill you, enjoy you... but where are you?

"Do not worship any other god, for the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God." ~ Exodus 34:14

Oh.

I Need You Still

What with having a semi-needy newborn, a tornado of a 2 year-old, and a new home that I'm resolving to actually keep up with, I haven't been able to sit, gather up my mind, and write until now.
(Thank you two-hour delay and PBS!)
My time alone with my thoughts and my God has mostly been confined to 15-20 minutes before the sun's even up. But at least it's there. It's not pushed aside. Not ever again.

I have a confession and I could use the above reasons as an excuse, but I won't. Because I'm not confessing out of guilt, I'm confessing to remind myself never to let this happen again. I'm confessing to declare that I have needs. Big ones. Ones that I can not function, breathe, walk, especially parent, without.

I NEED GOD, I NEED HIS WORD, I NEED PRAYER. I still NEED it.

We moved a little over a month ago, right before Christmastime. It wasn't until after New Year's that I realized my go-to Bible was still packed away. My toaster was out and popping and my TV was fully functioning, but of the half a dozen boxes still left unopened was the one labeled "IMPORTANT" with my Book inside, closed.

With the holidays, our Bible Study was on vacation. With all the projects around the house, weekly prayer time with my hubby was pushed aside. With a baby shifting around my sleep, my early morning time with Him was traded in for more time with my sheets. Maybe my writer's block was due to lack of Word, not time.
And when the holidays came and went, and all 3 kids had been home for weeks, and the house still wasn't where I wanted it, and had almost no routine to lean on, and had hardly had any real talk with my husband, I lost it. Crumbled. Completely caved in to every pressure around me.

It took an emergency date night with my husband early this month and time away from the house, kids, etc. for me to wake up. My husband will confess right along side me (triangle, bam!) that we kidded ourselves, if just for a few weeks, that we could do this solo. Without the spiritual support of each other, but most importantly, without Him. We were see-you-on-Sunday followers.

When the world seems to be going swimmingly, blessings all around, we tend to forget our desperate state. But I want to be constantly desperate. Needy. For Him only. And intentional to fill that need daily. Not if I get to it. Not if she sleeps in today. Not if that project gets done. Everyday, needing Him and going. Running into His arms and filling myself up with His Love and Grace and Mercy and Truth and Joy and.... everything I need, in Him.

I won't be thirsty. I have a bubbling spring within me, I'm going to drink from it often. More than often. Now. Always. Every second. Sipping, gulping, slurping. And I have food. So much food! Food some know nothing about. My nourishment comes from doing His will. (John 4)

But you gotta check-in with the Boss to see what He has for you. Hallelujah, I'm here, I'm sorry, I need You still, as much as when I was broken on a dirty dorm floor, I need you now, on my newly cleaned kitchen floor, I need you just as much. 

And I won't forget it.

Mouse in the House

One of the unconsidered joys of living in an old farmhouse surrounded by horses and fields is the occasional mouse that comes wandering in looking for shelter. I guess I figured they were probably around, but lately it’s become more than obvious (i.e. -  when one stops right in front of me and stares for a while).

 A few months back, when I saw the first gray blur scurry past me one night, I screamed so loud that I woke the kids, and Baileigh came running downstairs. I was standing on top of the dining room table, so she just joined me. Doug was out coaching that night, and we actually stood and even slept on the wooden table for almost 3 hours until he got back. After that incident I hadn’t physically seen one in a while, but just the other week, Doug and I rented a movie, sat down to relax after the kiddos were down,  and this then little guy ran out in front of us then ran away then came back again. I stood on top of the couch hysterically crying, covering my eyes, yelling at Doug to just tell me when it was over. (We ended up waking up the kids and sleeping at Mima’s that night because Mommy was unstable.)

So needless to say, this has always been a horrible phobia of mine. It might have slightly settled down a bit once I became more acquainted with these guys. But if being 8-months pregnant isn’t enough to keep you awake at night, a chilling scritch-scratch sound behind the old walls will certainly do the job. I’m exhausted. After trying every humane, home-remedy (traps, oils, buzzing machines), we finally taped up the gaping farmhouse holes and got an exterminator. So I’d say the problem is finally under control, or at least we’re on the winning side at this point in the game. Plus, literally facing this fear of mine has toughened me up quite a bit.

Of course, even mice issues bring me back to God though. At some point, I realized there wasn’t much my husband could do to protect me. I had spent at least 100 bucks on “best-selling solutions”.  And the exterminator, while a relief, said after his 10-minute treatment  to “give it a week or so.” So who was going to help me? I wasn’t sleeping. I was completely paranoid, even out in public. And my day-to-day essentials, like going to the bathroom or cleaning around the house, were becoming an exhausting mental battle.

So I got down with some raw, impromptu prayer - no fancy words, not on my knees, not even with my eyes closed (they haven’t been closed in weeks, this was no exception, too vulnerable).  Think wide-eyed, slightly psycho-sounding mumblings instead.

·         “Jesus, protect me, protect me. Give me protection.”

·         “Give me peace of mind, Lord. Calm me down. I’m freaking out!”

·         “Help me function. I’m running on nothing. Please, God! Please, please, please.”

And while they may just be mouse-in-the-house type prayers, they were some of the realest prayers I’ve prayed in a while because I was so desperate! I’ve personally seen time and again that out of desperation, God delivers. I’d also say it’s a humbling state to be shaking over something furry and smaller than my fist. Humbled and Desperate makes for good prayer!

 I realized too that everything I was praying for at 4 a.m. was Bible-backed, God-guaranteed.

·         Protection

·         Peace

·         Strength

…some of the main promises of God.  And when I cry out to Him for these things, in desperation and with expectation, I  know I’ll be heard and answered. Thank goodness. I just don’t know why I far too often go to Him as my last resort. After I tell the hubby, after I browse the internet, after call the professional, then I think, oh hey, did I even take this to God yet? He needs to be my number one emergency contact, regardless of the emergency. God cares about something as small as a mouse in the middle of the night because it’s big to me and I am His child.

“Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”

~ 1 Peter 5:7

World's Best Boss

Baileigh is my little watchguard. She may be more on top of what Doug and I are up to than we are of her. I'm nervous this may translate into the playground tattletale in school next year, but for now she keeps watch on Mom and Dad with daily comments like:

"Guys, is this commercial appropriate?"

"Dad's been a bad example to you and now you're a bad example to Dougie. Stop drinking out of the container, Mom!"

(after catching me tap my hubby with a spatula as he walked by) "Mom, that's not for using with Daddy, only with pancakes!"

The name Baileigh (or Bailey) actually stems from the word "bailiff" which means a person who keeps order. Yep, that's her.

But honestly, she's the closest thing I have to a boss during the day. She's the one evaluating my work, demanding quickness and completion. I can laugh it off, and actually, I've always enjoyed having someone assess my work, so becoming a stay-at-home mom was originally a struggle for me, mainly for the fact that there was no A+ or red pen on my work that day. I can handle a 4-year-old as my watchdog, but I need to remember my Master is someone much greater.  

I'm looking to tattoo my toilet tank and stain my dish-washing window with the verse: "Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people." (Colossians 3:23).

So even if I did have a boss in this phase of life, my work and my day-to-day duties should be done as if Jesus himself was my superior. When I scrub a toilet til it's squeaky clean and someone comes in minutes later with an explosive episode... Breathe, it's alright, I'm working for the Lord, not for people. When my husband jokes that he never sees the kitchen sink empty, yet it's actually vacant 75 percent of the day (I'm tempted to send him daily pictures!) It's cool. I'm working for the Lord, He knows.

There are some days when I'm so filled with this truth and wake up excited to work for my Boss. But honestly, there are many other days where I ask, why the heck I am doing this again? It's gonna go unnoticed, what's the point. But that's not true. I want the truth. I want to work at everything I do with all my heart, like I am employed by the Lord. I want to gladly serve my Lord.

Similarly in 1 Peter 1:14-16, I'm reminded how to live and work.

"So you must live as God’s obedient children. Don’t slip back into your old ways of living to satisfy your own desires. You didn’t know any better then.  But now you must be holy in everything you do, just as God who chose you is holy. For the Scriptures say, “You must be holy because I am holy.”

What is it that you want to give up on when no one's watching? What selfish, old way of living could you slip right back into? Laziness? Drunkeness? Fill in the blank. Maybe you didn't know any better then, that's my excuse and it's biblically justisfied! But not anymore, now I am called to live as God's obedient child. Because God is my Master, I must strive to work like my Boss. Because He is holy, I must strive to be holy. Because I know better now, I must not slip back into my own selfish ways. 

Whether you have a boss or not, work for the Lord above all else. Not because you have to impress Him, but because you absolutely want to. Reverently. Joyfully. Willingly. With all your heart. 

Hide & Seek

Here we go again. It sounds so nonchalant, but when I grabbed the phone to tell my husband I was bleeding, it felt like a reoccurring, familiar nightmare. Not even 6 months ago, we lost a baby around 8 weeks. It was traumatizing, an exhausting experience for me; the process of healing was long and raw. Random tears and sometimes shakes. A longing for a baby.  I’d been given the gift to see her via ultrasound, a beating heart and a little figure looking at me. “Mama?” And then weeks later, late-night in the ER, contractions, delivery, the contents of my womb. My little one swept away into a take-out container, gone forever. I’ll never hold her on this Earth. 

But now - months later, after much healing and prayer and the news of another child – again? For the first few weeks of this pregnancy I felt like a mad woman every time I was in the bathroom, like a kid watching a scary movie through cracks between his fingers. That’s how I’d pee. But in week 11, almost out of my first-trimester, after a couple of check-ups and having just announced the pregnancy to the family and Facebook World days before, the fear was dissolved, not on the mind at all. But then, after going for a nice jog with some friends on one of the first mild days of Spring, I came home to blood. So much blood. I cried on the toilet, whispering at the top of my lungs, “Jesus, Lord…”

The ride to the doctor’s was in complete silence. My husband reached over for my hand and quiet tears fell when I looked at him. His heart was hardening, mine was breaking, again. In the room (the undress from the waist down room), blood spilled down my legs, staining my socks, and pooling on the cold tile. The more blood, the more tears. Spilling all over. “I’m so sorry,” the nurses were already murmuring to me. Then the ultrasound machine was wheeled in, an overly-familiar procedure for me. “Just to check, ok?” I closed my eyes as she squeezed the goo over my belly, a little pressure. “This baby’s moving!” she almost shouted in true surprise. “We got a heartbeat.” I gasped for air as if being submerged under water for the last hour and finally released. A gasp, to keep up with the swiftness of emotions. Lowest to highest in a matter of seconds. It’s enough to knock you out. Another loud whisper was all that followed. “Praise God, thank you…”

It seemed that all the bleeding was from the placenta and the only prescription: bed rest. “Let the height of your activity be reading and folding laundry,” she said. I nodded, still smiling, the baby was fine! Alive and well. It took a awhile before realizing what bed rest with two other babies at home would mean. It’d mean constant help. On Day 4, I heard my son screaming upstairs. My Help had laid him down for a nap and was coming back soon. I just sat on the futon weighing out my options, essentially choosing between children, or that’s what it felt like. What if he fell out of his crib? I could just peek my head in, but then I’d have to climb the stairs. So do I really just sit here? Choose the unborn child over the toddler right now?

The back and forth battled in my head. The worst part (or the best, I’m not sure) is that I felt fine. I wasn’t in pain, didn’t feel ill, the bleeding had stopped. But I had to be still. Just still. God, help me be still.

And when I was still, and accepting of help, and humbled, and trusting, it was peaceful. Can I say…enjoyable? For the first time in a while, I had stretches of alone time to fill. I spent hours in bed, gazing outside in complete awe of the blooming Magnolia tree framing my bedroom window. Beyond that were horses playing and bathing next door, and the constant excitement among the birds was all the praise music I needed. I had a lovely novel, endless ice water, and the envelopment of the warm breeze circulating throughout our old farmhouse. Everything was taken care of, all I had to do was be still. In those quiet moments, I felt so close to God. So cared for. I was stuck here, but He was right next to me. I was content and full of faith. Full of Him.

And now, I’m beyond thankful to be doing well with baby strong. But back to the day-to-day routine. The wake-up, the breakfast  with cartoons, the clean-up, the school lessons, the naptimes, the lunches, the clean-up, the meltdowns, the cooking, the eating, the bathing, the bedtimes. Aaah, then comes some quiet time, quiet time usually filled with something sweet, several sit-coms, and snoring for sure. And at the end of it all, I can’t help but ask where was God today?  I definitely wasn’t in awe of His presence when changing diaper #6. He seemed so much closer in the quiet breeze, that Magnolia!

But I know – He’s not the one hiding. He’s still right here, I’m just too distracted by life off of bed rest. Hiding in the constant going. I’m not being still because I don’t have to be. But in the still, I could hear Him and feel Him. So close. In the busy, I’m seeking, seeking, seeking, but too busy to be still, listen, feel. So I’m the hider and the seeker?  But that won’t ever work.

I need to be like faithful Moses who kept right on going because he kept his eyes on the one who is invisible. ( Hebrews 11:27) Not the girl who kept right on going, so much so, that she missed the One that day.  No, I want to keep my eyes on Him always, in the routine, in the noise, in the diapers. I’ll run with endurance the race God has set before me. And the only way to do this is by keeping my eyes on Jesus, my champion, who initiated my faith and is perfecting it daily. (Hebrews 12: 1-2)

Everyday, constantly still. Not hiding. Exposed. Available. And always, always with my eyes on Him.

“Be still, and know that I am God!”

~ Psalm 46:10 

This I Believe

I'll call this a celebrity post - the author might not exactly be a celebrity, but she is an amazing young girl. Elise was just 11 years old when a brain tumor required sudden surgery; during the operation she suffered a stroke. Now, at 16, she suffers from multiple physical setbacks, yet her faith in God has remained unwavering. She says her biggest challenge is simply fatigue because it prevents her from doing the things she loves. She speaks openly and boldly about God's love and is an inspiration to me. She wrote this essay for the international organization called This I Believe, which encourages people to write and share essays describing personal core values that guide daily life. This is what young Elise believes...

"I believe in God. That having faith in him can give you hope like no other in the world. I believe that the strength and sureness that God provides through his everlasting love are more powerful than the strongest man in the world’s muscles. God’s purity goes beyond belief and his wisdom mightier than the entire world put together. His truthfulness and forgiveness reigns throughout the universe, while his love for us pours out for us quicker and steadier than our hearts can even beat. I believe that God’s beautiful world that he has made for us to live and thrive in gives him a more creative insight than Monet, Picasso, and Da Vinci had put together.
I believe in “being still, and knowing that God is God” and I believe in “I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me” because I live and breathe these two verses every day as if they are my lifelines. Going through a major brain surgery to remove a tumor and having a stroke during that, I had to believe both of these things in order to keep going and pushing on. I believe in praising God every day for not only this, but for many other things too, such as my family’s safety and well-being, for blessing me with a house to live in, in a safe environment and community.
I know God is the one who gave me my strength to get through each and every day with my disability of only being able to use one of my arms very well and having extreme fatigue to the point where I am sometimes in tears. I believe God puts us through tough things that are most difficult in life to make us stronger.
I would have never chosen before this to undergo a traumatic brain injury or a pediatric stroke but now looking back at the past, I feel that I’m even stronger, courageous, and faithful than I ever could hope to be. I used to take my vision and the uses of the parts of my body for granted before, but now, I realize how lucky I am just to at least be able to use one of my arms and having some use of the other, and how lucky I am that even though I can’t see out of one eye and have a field cut in the other, how grateful I should be for these things that seem so simple.
When my tumor grew back, I had to undergo radiation and saw children and adults coming to get treated for cancer. I saw how most of them didn’t really seem that sad. I learned how this was because they knew that God was at their sides and wouldn’t leave them. I saw how these people were fighting a life threatening disease and were still so faithful in God."

What a perfect weekend to remember to be still and grateful, giving all the glory to God. Thanks Elise!

Fear Not

"Fear not."  It's probably the most common phrase in the Bible, usually coming from God himself or from one of His angels, and yet fear is probably the most common issue we face day-to-day.

Fear of not making enough money. Fear of the future or the unknown. Fear of pain. Fear of losing someone. Fear of pretty much everything.

Obviously, judging by the amount of times He tells us to "fear not", God doesn't want us living like this. We'll miss all He has for us when we live life cornered by fear. I think God also recognizes how much we tend to default to fear, or He wouldn't feel the need to repeat Himself, but He wants us to default to Him instead.

Around Christmas time, Baileigh memorized what the angels said to the shepherds when Jesus was born. And now at Easter, she learned what the angels said to the women at the tomb. She's gotten them a little mixed up at times because they both begin with the same "Don't be afraid." So she's come up with a blending of the two holidays,but it still works.. "Don't be afraid. I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. Jesus, who was crucified, isn't here!"

Amen! The first words of each original holiday begin with "don't be afraid" (or "fear not"). I know it's obviously because an angel has just appeared out of nowhere to them and I'm sure they were shaking in their boots. But also, with both announcements, Jesus being born and risen, it's assuring them (and us) "you don't need to live in fear anymore- and this is why."

Research shows that the emotion of fear "triggers more than 1,400 known physical and chemical responses, and activates more than 30 different hormones and neurotransmitters" (Dr. Caroline Leaf). Fear is also the root emotion behind all stress, and stress can actually marinate our bodies in toxic chemicals. Clearly, fear is even dangerous to our health. So where does this powerful, unhealthy, negative emotion of fear come from? Well I know where it does not come from..

The Bible says, "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." ~2 Timothy 1:7

This verse has been playing in my head for weeks now - when I feel the fear start creeping in, I am training myself to say, "Nope, God has not created me with a spirit of fear." And then replace the fear with thoughts of power, love, and calmness. All things that God's Word and His presence are overflowing with. But fear, that is never from Him. He desires that we don't live in fear, but in Him. And only in Him do we have the power to deny fear and replace it. Even if it's every second of everyday at first.

"Fear not." It's in God's Word many, many times. But even if He only said it once, it would still be enough for me.

Taking Back Marriage

Last Valentine's Day, I realized that the holiday may be bound to disappoint. I didn't mean to put a damper on the day, but truthfully, we are just imperfect people. We try to love and be loved, but God loves us more than anyone ever could. And our understanding of love and our ability to love others needs to stem from THAT relationship above all else. With that being said, my husband booked us a couple's cooking class on Valentine's Day this year (after some serious hinting on my part)! So I'm looking forward to Heart Day more than usual. But I am so thankful for the gift God has given me in my husband. My second love, next to the Lord. Doug knows he's the #2 seed, and he's glad for it. He'd say the same about my standing as well. Because by understanding God and our love-relationship with Him first, we are able to better live out our marriage, attempting to mirror the Love God has shown to us. Marriage is the closest glimpse we'll receive on Earth, person-to-person, to the kind of relationship God has always desired between us and Himself. Marriage is just a taste of what's to come. And God knew what He was doing when He created it; it was a gift for us, His beloved children.

When I think about all of that, I get pumped up about marriage! It's something Doug and I have always taken very seriously, but also joyfully, purposefully, prayerfully. And we've been blessed with influences that have taught us even more how significant marriage is, and how our marriage, specifically, can be significant. We put time aside each week just to reflect, plan, and pray for our marriage. We've committed to putting at least one weekend aside each year to reconnect and refresh our marriage. Even still, our marriage isn't perfect because it's a combining of two imperfect people, but we can press towards the goal of reflecting God's love in our marriage, and we really try to. So in a world that feels like it's perfectly OK to take back marriage like you would take back an ugly sweater, I am taking back marriage to what it was originally intended to be: a blessing that is to be taken seriously. Ephesians 5 gives us a beautiful example of what marriage was created to look like, some may see it as old-fashioned or unbalanced, but that's only because they don't understand the love-respect relationship that we're aiming to emulate, that of Christ and ourselves! Pauls summarizes his whole explanation of marriage by saying "So again I say, each man must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband." (Ephesians 5:33)  When someones loves you like he loves himself, it pretty easy to respectfully love him back. And that's an awesome place to start!

I have to say, it's been pretty upsetting to me seeing people my age, reaching their mid-twenties, and their reactions to marriage. I've seen a lot of statuses saying things along the lines of  "If I see one more engagement update I'm going to throw up!" or "I don't care that you are getting married-shut up!" Or on the other hand, peers of mine who are already on their way to or finalizing a divorce publicly, and people "liking" and cheering them along, like they just achieved something? I don't understand and I won't accept this way of thinking. It's a misunderstanding, a big lie. Whether you're married or not, it's not OK, and you don't have to play along with it. Will you take back marriage with me? What it was intended to be, what it stands for, what it could be. Significant. Joyful. Committed. Celebrated.

Think on love this Valentine's Day: the One who loved you first, and maybe the one who loved you second. <3 "..a man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one."
Genesis 2:24

Complaint dept

Yesterday, I almost lost it. Baileigh has been in a terrible routine of whining and complaining. Her sock is on backwards, waaaaaa! She can't turn the water on, uhhhhhhh! She can't clean up the whooooole playroom by herself! I've been trying to let her take on some more responsibilities herself, but her attempt around it is melting into complete distress. I asked her to clean her own face before we left for the store several times yesterday and when we got there, I opened the van door to see her still messy face and said, "Fine. You won't do it yourself? I'll do it for you." And I licked my fingers and smudged them all over her face. (I wonder where she gets her dramatics from? Ooops. LOL) Of course, she burst into hysterical tears while I tried to give her a lesson outside the grocery store about listening the first time and doing it without whining and complaining. An old man walked out of the store right in the middle of my finger-to-the-face disciplining and starting laughing at the top of his lungs! Finally, he got close to us and said to me (still laughing) "What did you do to her? Ahahahaha!" Great. There goes that attempt, I thought while giving him an akward, half-smile, half-areyoukiddingme kind of face.
           

But later that day, before bedtime, I suggested Dad read the story of Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt. "Really exaggerate the complaining," I whispered to him. So he did. She listened with attention and excitement. Initially, the Israelites sang a song of praise to God for all He had done for them. They were dancing, celebrating, and shouting thanks like, "Who is like you among the gods, O Lord—glorious in holiness, awesome in splendor, performing great wonders?" and "With your unfailing love you lead the people you have redeemed. In your might, you guide them to your sacred home." (Exodus 15: 11,13) But the thankful attitude didn't stick around for long. They quickly starting complaining. They were thirsty with no water, but when they finally came to an oasis in the dessert, they declared the water was too bitter to drink. After being of out Egypt for about a month, they really upped the whining. “If only the Lord had killed us back in Egypt,” they moaned. “There we sat around pots filled with meat and ate all the bread we wanted. But now you have brought us into this wilderness to starve us all to death.” (Exodus 16:3) Mind you, back in Egypt, they were slaves! Not to mention, God had just performed unimaginable miracles in order to free His people. But within weeks, they were throwing a pity party for themselves, with their thankfulness far behind them, nowhere to be found. They went from telling everyone that God is leading and guiding them with His unfailing love, to asking Moses with attitude and testing God saying, "Is the Lord with us here or not?" (Exodus 17:7)

After reading the story, Doug asked Baileigh what's been going on. She said softly, "Well, Mom's not helping me with anything."
He said to her, "Did you eat today?"
"Yea."
"Mom made all of it.  Did you wear clothes today?"
"Yea."
"Mom made sure they were clean for you.  Do you have a made bed to sleep in tonight?"
"Yea."
"Mom puts it back together for you."

She got the point. She was so stuck on what she wasn't getting, that she had lost all gratefulness for what Mom had done and is still doing for her. Same with the Israelites toward God. Same with all of us toward God. How many times do we grumble and complain against Him? I know how it feels as a mom; how do you think it makes our Heavenly Father feel? Is your complaint department overflowing with quick remarks "Are you even here God?" "I was better off before!" "Why don't You care about me?" "You're not helping me!" We can test Him and argue with Him and complain against Him like the Israelites did thousands of years ago. We can whine and offend His works and unfailing love, like a 4-year-old against her mom. How quickly we can forget all He's done for us! Or we can choose to focus on gratefulness. And if you're really stuck, we can all start with the lesson "Did you breathe today? God gave that to you."

"Do everything without complaining and arguing..."

~Philippians 2:14

Staying in the Fence

Today the kiddos and I went for a walk around our new block. Despite the freezing weather, I bundled everyone up to get a dose of some fresh air and sunshine. We saw horses, an old general store turned pizza shop, an antiquated little church, the elementary school Baileigh will be going to next year, a big frozen lake, and an adorable dog in a sweater. We had deep talks about kindergarten expectations, educational lessons on hibernation and migration, and inquiries about shock collars and electric fences. She noticed that the cute, clothed dog we saw only came so far. She could tell he wanted to come see us, but he didn't. She asked why and I told her that his collar was like the silver string around the horses fence that can buzz if they go too far; it keeps them safe inside. She said,



"Oh I get it, it's just because their owner doesn't want them to get lost." 

What a beautiful image of God my daughter gave me in that moment. I thought about the fences and how they are just like the protective guidelines our Father gives us. Not to hurt us, or because He doesn't want us to have any fun, but simply because our Owner doesn't want us to get lost. He knows if we cross the line that He's established for us, we'll end up hurting ourselves and wandering farther and farther away from Him.

I had in my mind a story from Baileigh's children's Bible that Doug had read to her last night and our walk gave me the metaphor I needed to keep it on my mind and store it in my heart. It says "Now some people think the Bible is a book of rules, telling you what you should and shouldn't do. The Bible certainly does have some rules in it. They show you how life works best." Just like the fence where the owner has the animals best interest in mind and obviously hopes to keep them close by, God uses His "rules" as a protective fence showing us how life works best, and He would know, considering He created it. It's all about His best for us and what He originally intended, before we ran off like a defiant pet. The story reminds us though that the main character of the Bible isn't the defiant pet, it's the Owner. "But the Bible isn't mainly about you and what you should be doing. It's about God and what He has done...No, the Bible isn't a book of rules...the Bible is most of all a Story...There are lots of stories in the Bible, but all the stories are telling one Big Story. The Story of how God loves His children and comes to rescue them.*"

Just like the owner that loves their animal, God set up a fence. We broke right through it and ran off, not realizing how much it would hurt. But like any good owner would do, God came running after us, not stopping until He found us; He went to every length possible to rescue us. Our Owner doesn't want us to be lost, so why won't we just stay, obey, and trust Him. God used a 4-year-old (again), a shock collar, and a children's book to speak into my heart today. What about you..



*The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones

Home Sweet Home

In this season, for the first time in my life, my only job, my full-time endeavor, is being a household manager (aka: stay-at-home momma). Ironically, our family is living with Mima and Pipa at the moment, without a place to call our own. Just days before closing on a house this summer, our mortgage fell through with no chance of reapplying for at least 6 months. Our old place was packed and ready to go before it all fell through, but we put it all in a POD and now everything we own is sitting in the driveway at my in-laws. We are so grateful for being able to stay here while we sort everything out. However, I can't help but to be reminded everyday that the time I decided to be "home" completely full-time, we're without an actual home.

We've all heard the saying or have a grandma-embroidered hankie declaring "Home is where the heart is", but this phrase has rung more true to me in the last few months than ever before. Between being forbade the opportunity to own a home right now, to swallowing our pride and moving back in with our parents, to losing a great friend, to watching houses foreclose all around us, to losing a baby we'll never meet here on Earth - my idea of "home" and what that actually means has slowly been reconfigured. Our hope, our happiness, our peace, can't be found in walls or property or anything else in this world. There's so much more.

Because of this transitional period, at the last minute and with some dragging of feet, we decided it'd be best if I home-schooled Baileigh this year (more like home-preschooled). While it's only ABC's and 123's at this point in her academic career, this was never something I desired to do, or really even gave much thought. But she and I both would tell you it has been great. At our small, Christian academy in the dining room, she does all the fundamentals, but also memorizes a Bible verse and a praise song every month. Our first month here, she was confused, waiting to move to this new house she thought we had bought. So we focused on the theme of "home" in September and what the Bible says about it. Just the other day, while I was considering the rent vs. own arguments, I said to Baileigh with all seriousness, "what was that bible verse you learned a couple months ago about the house of the Lord?" " It's Psalm 23, verse 6, Mom!" she shouted from the other room. I opened up my Bible and laughed out loud when I saw she had it exactly right. And then I read it...

"Surely your goodness and love will follow me

    all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord

    forever."

I wish I could give you my big AHA moment on it, but to be honest, I'm still working on it. I hinted to it with my last post, trying to wrap my head around losing our unborn baby, and I try to teach my four-year-old the big-picture, but my troubled adult mind reminds me of all sorts of doubts and worries. How quickly I forget. But here is a prayer I wrote months ago during our transition attempting to overrule my concerns through the Word of God-


"No matter where I go, You and Your goodness, love, and blessing come with me, now and for the rest of my life. And from now until eternity, YOU ARE MY HOME and my hope. YOU are what fills my cup, and it overflows because of your love...Lord, you've taught me through this obstacle that it doesn't matter where we physically call home. What town, what state, rent vs. own, or even living with our parents. It's been humbling and eye-opening, but at the end of the day, our hope, and rest, and confidence are in You and not where we live..." 

This was a moment of clarity for me that came only after going over Psalm 23 over and over again at home-preschool. And honestly, it flees from me so easily. So I'm writing it again, reading it again, praying it again, and even sharing it now, until I can declare it daily, sincerely, whole-heartedly. My dwelling place is in the Lord, and that's good enough for me!  

You made me

I am writing right now alone in my bed, with no kids running around or even a hungry husband asking me every 2 hours what we have to eat. It's nice and quiet, I have some time to be with my thoughts and with the Lord, but it's not the typical kind of "mommy time" I desire.

Late Thursday night, Doug and I headed over to the Emergency Room; everything is "fine" now, but I have to take it easy and recover with some good old-fashioned rest. Thankfully my husband took over all of my daily duties for now and seems to be holding up alright, but I'm up here alone in bed, grateful for the break, but almost wishing I had some things to busy me right now...

Just a few weeks ago, Doug came home from work and I told him there was something on my stomach I really wanted him to take a look at. He nervously lifted my shirt and saw written across belly in eyeliner "Baby #3" with hearts all around. He was so excited, we were overjoyed. The next week I had an ultrasound and was able to see our beautiful baby's heartbeat - but the doctor was confused because they saw other stuff in there along with the baby. Tumors, masses, polyps, bleeding? They weren't sure what to call it. So the doctor just said keep coming in every 2 weeks and we'll keep an eye on the baby's heartbeat and just make sure everything is OK. We were a little scared, but my husband was sharing scriptures with me like "Wait for the Lord, be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." (Psalm 27:14) and "Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for him to act." (Psalm 37:7) So that's all that we could do...wait. And our kind of waiting is hopeful, prayerful, confident. Worry creeps in, sure, but we have such a Hope.

So we waited and prayed and thanked God for this life that was inside me. "Right now, we have a baby," we said. "This moment, we have 3 kids and we can be glad for that!" We knew this baby already had a unique genetic blueprint, DNA present for several weeks now that would determine every characteristic this child would have all the way into adulthood, not to mention a strong, beating heart apart from mine that I got to see with my own eyes! It was amazing because it was life, and life is something to be celebrated. So we did, but I asked Doug to please keep it quiet until the next ultrasound, for my own piece of mind. So as difficult as it was, we didn't tell our observant 4-year-old or most family and friends, but still, we were so happy and so in love already.

This Thursday, though, less than a week before my next follow-up ultrasound, I started bleeding. It started out so slight, but when I went to bed that night, it had turned intense, even accompanied by the familiar feeling of early labor contractions. "I think we need to go to the hospital," I said to my husband around 11 pm. We made arrangements for the kids and quickly left, we prayed together in the parking lot, and headed in. After settling in at the ER, I felt the known feeling of downward pressure followed by a natural push. I wasn't sure of it when it was happening, but soon found I had delivered my baby completely on my own - just way earlier than I had ever wanted to. I cried and cried as I watched the nurses put my helpless tiny baby in what looked like a plastic take-out container to be sent out to a lab somewhere. After spending the entire night in the hospital with tests and ultrasounds, it was finally confirmed that I had a spontaneous, complete miscarriage. We were sent home, babyless, around 6 a.m.

So that brings me back to right now, alone in bed, just writing, trying to get my own head around it all and trying to hear God's Word in it all...that's just how I do things. I was randomly e-mailed this Bible verse this morning,

"The Lord will work out his plans for my life-

    for your faithful love, O Lord, endures forever.
    Don’t abandon me, for you made me." ~Psalm 138:8

People have tried to encourage me by saying similar things, like everything happens for a reason or it was meant to be, and while essentially I believe this (see Romans 8:28), my eye was caught on the last part, not thinking of myself, but of my baby "Don't abandon me, for you made me." We have that promise that our God, our Maker, won't abandon us. I believe that for my baby too and I imagine that being the prayer of her heart, "Dear God, don't leave me, You made me." And I imagine God comforting her and holding her and assuring her that she will see her earthly mommy and daddy one day soon. 

 ..............

Doug and I are hurting right now, but we know so many other people have experienced this same kind of hurt, and while I wasn't sure if I was going to share any of this at all, if I could just encourage one person today who has quietly been hurting or struggling with losing a child this way, then this moment of vulnerability is completely worth it. And in the midst of this seemingly never-ending storm of a season for me, I know that God is still there and this is what I want to remember above everything else:

 The one thing I ask of the Lord—
    the thing I seek most—
is to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
    delighting in the Lord’s perfections
    and meditating in his Temple.
 For he will conceal me there when troubles come;
    he will hide me in his sanctuary.
    He will place me out of reach on a high rock.
Then I will hold my head high
    above my enemies who surround me.
At his sanctuary I will offer sacrifices with shouts of joy,
    singing and praising the Lord with music.

                                                                ~Psalm 27:4-6

Raw Emotions

This past week brought an intricate range of emotion for me. From the sobs of a stormy viewing, to the heaviness of presenting a eulogy, to the reality of seeing your friend put in the ground. The smiles and hugs from old friends, to the refreshing introduction of brand-new friends. The kind, appreciative words from grieving parents, to the abundance of hilarious words from my children this week. Tears, smiles, trembling, embracing, weeping, laughing. All of it at once.

This week was a whirlwind of ups and downs. It was exhausting for sure, but it can be appreciated at the same time. Just the realization that we have the ability to feel all these things, even contrasting emotions simultaneously. "It's happy that Drew's in heaven, but sad his family won't see him for one hundred million weeks," my preschooler explained to me last night. But what a reminder that as humans we have both overflowing joys and deep burdens in our hearts, and the capacity to experience them. God uniquely created us to feel these things. And not to numb them like we can so easily try to do, but to bring them to Him with thanks or with tears, or better yet - with both. One of the most powerful verses, and yet the shortest in the entire Bible is John 11:35 "Jesus wept."  
God knows our emotion, yet at the same time, He wants us to tell Him about it and lay it at His feet. Happy, sad, pissed, giddy. All of it.

I've said before that writing is a form of self-teaching for me, the organizing of my own thoughts and emotions into complete sentences. Yet I think I underestimated the power taking time to read what I had poured out. Perhaps it felt prideful or even embarrassing if I thought too much about my writing and the idea that people are actually reading all this. Yet over the last week, I've received such an outpouring from others who were encouraged or comforted by reading my words, so I decided to go back and actually read what I had to say over the last couple years.

I learned two things from this: the best reminders and encouragements can come from your own experiences, and I really like the Psalms! I realized I had quoted the Psalms in at least ten different posts; they were all different verses in different contexts dealing with all sorts of emotions. The Book of Psalms in the Old Testament is smack in the middle of the Bible and was historically written by David, the King of Israel around 1000 BC. It is filled with poems to God, simply pouring out his varying, day-to-day, raw emotions of life. This is why I love them so much. Even though they were written about 3,000 years ago, they are entirely applicable and perfectly relatable today. It ranges from beautiful songs of praise and joy, to cries of pain and questions of why. It is a perfect place to start if you've never opened a Bible before, and an awesome place to return to for those more familiar. Just the realness of it is encouraging. Perhaps that's why some have also found comfort in what I have to say, because it's real, just my life, but it is laced with God's truth.

This week I experienced just about every emotion under the sun, but God is right there with us, like a friend holding our hand in all of it. It's overwhelming to think about, but comforting to know that He knows our hearts and everything inside of them. To quote another Psalm "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!" -Psalm 139:6 
Like it says, I might not be able to truly wrap my head around this reality of such a personal, loving God, but even still, I can be comforted, hopeful, and thankful for a God who knows my emotions, especially in weeks like these.