My God-Sized Dream: The Why

We’ve talked a lot about “what” your dream is and now it’s time to tackle the “why” behind it. Why is your dream worth pursuing, fighting for and seeing through no matter what happens?

I shared a few months ago about a dream God had given me.

To take my stories from Indonesia, the good and bad, the ugly and broken, the beautiful…and write a book.

Since sharing that initial dream, He’s done a lot in this heart. And while that dream is there, and being actively chased :), there’s been more defining…and maybe some heart-refining, too.

I’ve always loved to write and dreamed of writing a book, but that answer to “why” doesn’t completely cover it.

So…here’s the more honest answer. :)

It started with a blog, this space, in January of 2011. My husband and I had gone through an insane amount of change in the previous eight months…being in separate hemispheres for the last six weeks of my pregnancy, leaving Indonesia, the birth of our first child, readjusting to America, and relocating to a brand new city and state.

To be blunt, my head was spinning at a fast and furious, unable-to-focus, rate.

And this space became my haven…a place I hung out every day to share whatever it was that was going on in my heart and life…from the real of heartache and my inability to park a minivan, to the joy I felt over having coffee with a friend for the first time in six months and my confusion over why people wore boots over their jeans. 😉

America confused me, and I think I confused America.

And eventually those stories started to spill out, and God began to give glimpses of His goodness in the midst of ALL…despite the fact that everything I had always known no longer made sense.

Because it wasn’t about life making sense…it was about holding His hand and choosing to walk in His Grace, despite circumstances.

And I felt like maybe my stories were worth sharing…not just the happy and hilarious ones but the ones that broke me, the ones that changed my perspective, the ones that made (and still make) me cry.

And so I decided to write a book. :)

I’ve finished the rough draft, and I kinda love it. I think it’s one anyone can relate to on some level. (If y’all would like to say a prayer that a publisher will see it’s awesomeness, too, that would be amazing. ;))

But beyond books and blogs, I think the overall dream is encouragement.

I think that’s what He wants from me.

To take the gift He’s given me and use it for His glory. That might often be through words, but it also comes in other forms…listening, prayer, heart-spilling chats. He can use it all.

He can take my words…and make a difference, no matter big or small. It’s a difference and it’s for Him.

That’s the heart of it all right there.

And it’s worth chasing because it’s what He’s calling me to do.

I read these words recently, written by a friend…they are so true. And so what my heart needed to hear again this morning at this stage of dreaming.

Maybe you’re in a place where it seems no one sees you and it feels like what you do doesn’t matter. Maybe you feel like your potential isn’t being used. What are you doing taking care of a few sheep when you sense inside that you’re made for so much more? But you’re being faithful anyway. You’re serving, learning, loving, and growing.

You’re a God-Sized dreamer, and that means you can make a difference anywhere.

(You’re Made For a God-Sized Dream: Opening the Door to All God Has for You, by Holley Gerth; p. 50-51)

My prayer is that He’ll take this heart and life and use it for His glory…and I’ll leave the size of that up to Him.

And, Happy Tuesday, friends! As always, we’re linking up over at Holley‘s place. Hop by, say hello, and read what God is doing in some dreamer hearts!

God-Sized Dreams

Sig

Justifying Grief

I want to warn you, friends, that this post may make you uncomfortable. And if you’d rather not read it, I understand.

It’s been a season of dreaming and doing…with a lot of reflecting mixed in there, too.

And since many of you walk this journey with me…the one of hopes and chasing dreams, of love and extreme thankfulness, of a bit of sorrow and more broken, but also of so much redemption and Grace…I want you to know.

If you want to know.

So read at your own risk. :)

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There is a wound that’s been buried in a corner of my heart for more than four years.

Most days, it’s just there…but it never goes away. Occasionally it will tug and pull and ache and make me cry.

And then there are weeks like this past one where it slashes and slices and crushes and makes my body rack with sobs.

I thought it would go away, this wound of loss so deep, especially once our little girl joined our family.

But it hasn’t, and from time to time, the pain will resurface. And lately, it’s seemed to grab a hold and start to strangle.

Especially this past week, as it seemed to just make me cry more and more, I wondered…

Is it possible I never grieved it?

I don’t know.

All I know is that the month of March is one of the most painful for me…and when it rolls around, it feels as if a demon overtakes me.

The demon of depression…of anger, of hurt, of regret, of unknown. Of wishing and wondering and wanting to know so badly but needing to accept that I never will.

Most of you know the story, but not all.

For a long time, I’ve been afraid of it, but I can’t be anymore. For it is part of us…part of our family, and we need to acknowledge that it’s there and always will be. 

In November of 2008, while Tobin and I were living in Indonesia, we made the decision to pursue adoption. It wasn’t something we rushed into…it had been in our prayers and discussions for months, even years.

In January of 2009, we were approached about the possibility of adopting a baby. A mother in a nearby village who had a connection with a friend was pregnant with her third child. The father was in and out of the picture, money was almost nonexistent, and they wanted a better life for this baby.

Through our friend, they heard about us and asked if we would like their baby.

There are days I wish it had been that simple. And then there are others when I wish it had all never happened.

She was due end of April/beginning of May. It was January.

We flew into paperwork mode and, as soon as we could, scheduled a meeting with the head of the Yayasan (adoption CEO, for lack of a better term) in Jakarta. We met with her, and though somewhat helpful, we left feeling discouraged.

Despite the discouragement, our friend was convinced that this could work, that the hoops could be jumped through and the obstacles overcome.

We had a lot on our side, and I believed with everything in me that God wanted us to have this baby.

And I knew I shouldn’t have gone there yet, but I did. We were lying in bed one night, talking, and I told T how much I liked the name, Maria. We never talked about a boy’s name because I was certain it would be a girl.

I had dreams of a purple nursery with maybe some butterflies on the wall, of spending more years in Indonesia, of finally being able to be a family in my community.

In March, those dreams died when the mother changed her mind. We never heard officially what happened, other than we knew there had been some family pressure.

And my dreams for a Maria and a purple nursery with a cute, white crib turned to ashes.

I cried more tears that month than I ever thought possible.

What’s worse, I was convinced that my grief was unjustified. Not everyone had been completely on board with the situation, and one friend even passively said, Oh, you can just try again. It’s not like it was guaranteed anyway.

It was a grief I stuffed down deep. I was afraid of judgment, afraid of being caught crying over something others felt wasn’t justified.

I still had to teach…I still had nineteen 5th graders. I had a life and responsibilities…and the tears were pushed to the late night.

The kind when it was just me and heartbreak buried under a daisy blanket.

Alone, crying out to a God Who felt too far away.

People say that time heals wounds, and I half-agree with it.

Just half, though.

Eventually the exhaustion translated to sleep and sleep meant relief from pain.

Days somehow passed and life occupied hours…and it was what it was.

We returned to the States for the summer. Most never asked, we didn’t talk.

And while tears have dripped since, today the hole feels more like a pit of desperation…the kind that threatens to swallow up a life that needs to be lived.

About a year ago God laid it on our hearts to sponsor a child through Compassion. I pored through the pictures of children from Indonesia, looking for a three year-old. Somehow hoping that maybe…maybe…this child could still be mine.

I knew it was foolish, I knew the odds were millions to one, I knew…

I know…

I know I just have to let go.

To trust that God has a plan for this now-almost-four-year-old child, one that for whatever reason didn’t include us, one that is far greater than I could have imagined.

And so I need to say goodbye.

Goodbye, sweet one.

Sig

Five-Minute Friday: Broken

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write.

Today’s Topic: Broken

It’s been a broken week.

The kind that started with Sunday tears and wondering and wishing that life made sense in a week that is supposed to be beautiful and the perfect reflection of the sacrifice my Jesus made for me.

And then I think about how broken He became for me. His body was literally broken.

He was broken to fix me, fix this heart, give me hope and peace in a world that offers no such things.

And, yet, I will still catch myself looking at the world, trying to use it to fix whatever seems to be wrong at the moment.

My greatest need is Him…and though there are days and even weeks or longer that seem to be a mess of broken, I must always remember that because I have him…

I am redeemed.

Made new.

Forgiven.

Healed.

Hopeful.

I am anything but broken.

And as I reflect on a day full of unimaginable pain and sacrifice, I am so very thankful that he was wounded and broken, he died and rose again…

So that I might live.

Five Minute Friday

Sig

My God-Sized Dream: How I Live

What’s a typical day in your life like right now? How can you see God’s hand in the middle of the “small” and ordinary too?

When I first saw the topic for this week, I smiled and started singing a song.

One that, for reasons unknown to me, somehow made it onto my running playlist about a year ago and became a favorite. I especially love the chorus.

Turn up the music, turn it up loud
Take a few chances, let it all out
‘Cause you won’t regret it
Looking back from where you have been
‘Cause it’s not who you knew
And it’s not what you did, it’s how you live

“How You Live” Point of Grace

Though it may sound a bit flaky, I try to live my life in this way…with the music cranked up (sometimes literally), looking for the adventure in every step, and dancing throughout my days, too. (As long as there’s coffee. ;))

On a perfect day, I start with a run.  I usually do between three and four miles, but  I only did 2.4 this morning…on Monday nights I work out with friends, and our workout went late last night and was topped off by a frappuccino and a chat with my dear friend :), so I didn’t push it. I’m not Super-runner Woman, either (though I would look good with a cape, huh?!)…it’s something I became intentional about in order to shed those baby pounds and turned into something I enjoy.

When I get home from running (before 7 am) I get the coffee going and get ready for the day.

Key word here = coffee. I drink a ton of the stuff. True confession. But not black…always with creamer. Bailey’s Creme Brulee is my favorite. Mmmmm.

I’m a stay-at-home-mom, and it’s the job title I wear most proudly.

I’m mama to the most incredibly wonderful, spirited, sweet girl, Mae. Ever the non-napper, she almost always gives me a wonderful night’s sleep, so she usually isn’t awake before 7:30. (Unless we’re in time change mode. Ugh.) I love that it gives me time to hop through the shower and get ready somewhat before she’s up.

Once Mae is up, it’s the usual. Breakfast, sometimes-playtime, sometimes-Sesame Street. If she goes the tv route, I use that time to do some Bible reading and blogging. It’s when most of my daytime writing gets done. A lot of people start their mornings early. early. early. with spending time with God. I have found  that it  simply doesn’t work well for me.

I love Him.

But my mind is not coherent enough before my run to focus. Instead, I crank up a pretty sweet playlist of praise songs for my run and worship Him in that way. I love it, and I usually sing along. 😉

The  rest of our day varies, depending on the day. Some days we head to church for Bible study or to help with Feed My Lambs; the other days we’ll chill at home and  do art projects or read stories or play princesses or bake. (She’s a huge play doh fan right now, too.) We save errands for the afternoon, usually, because my ever-so-sweet girl mostly-dropped her afternoon nap last summer. (She takes about one a month.)

It’s a simple day, usually, and sometimes there will be more writing or catching up online interspersed with what we do.

MaeMommyPumpkinDays

My main goal as a stay-at-home mama  is to simply enjoy her and be the best mommy to her that I can be. The days are already passing too quickly, and she’ll be off to preschool in just five short months. Tear. 

My hubby usually gets home around 5:30, and  we’ll spend a little time together as a family,  eat dinner, and then it’s off to bathtime and bed for the non-napper girl we have. :) She’s usually in bed and asleep before 7:30 which gives us some time to unwind. Sometimes T and I will play a game or watch a movie; sometimes we’ll do our own thing…me, usually write; him, catch up with his favorite blogs or watch a TV show. Fun fact: we really love playing cribbage. I know it’s an old-people game, but it’s fun! You should try it. 😉

Being a SAHM was not something I ever thought I’d be, but I love it. I’ve realized, too, that it’s something I should never take for granted. My husband works hard so I can be with my girl, and I know there are a lot of mamas who wish with everything in them that they could be home with their kids, too. I am extremely blessed, and so thankful I can spend my days with Mae. :)

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One of the things God has over-and-over convicted me about is my prayer life. I grew up always thinking that to pray, I needed to stop what I was doing, fold my hands, close my eyes, and talk to Him in that way. And while there are times for that, I try to make prayer part of my lifestyle…and I talk to Him throughout the day. Sometimes in a sentence, sometimes longer. While I’m washing dishes, vacuuming, or even changing a diaper.

I love that He hears me…and that He listens no matter where I am or what I’m doing.

I also love that my daughter is learning the value of speaking to her Father, too, no matter where she is in her day. Often, we’ll pray for Putra, our Compassion child…his picture is on our wall in the kitchen, and she likes to look at it. Mae knows that we can talk to God about him, and that we can do it while we’re playing princesses, too. :)

In relation to my dream(s) and pursuing them in daily life, my biggest goal is to place them in His hands each day and pray for opportunities. Right now, my sweet friend is reading through my book, and I’m good with that…in some ways, it’s a break I can use to reflect on what He’s asking of me and what could potentially be next. As for my other dream of writing for a bigger blog, I talk to Him about it…and just keep doing my thing…

…writing  in this space, which I truly love. I really do, even if the number of blog posts a week has dwindled a bit. (I’m trying to focus on content more instead of word count. Please don’t count the number of words in this post. ;))

I’m trying to be faithful with the smaller things…and trust that He’ll bring the big things when it’s time. His time.

More than ever, right now, I’m content with that, and it’s a good place to be.

Just living the life He’s created for me, following Him in obedience, and trusting that His plan will happen.

And it’s Tuesday! Hop over to the lovely Holley Gerth’s place to read more stories of what God is doing in the lives of my dreaming sisters! We’d love for you to join us. :)

God-Sized Dreams

Sig

For When It’s Hard to Feel

I sat in the pew while he preached yesterday.

Tears brimmed on my lower lids the entire time. The only reason I wouldn’t let them fall is because I didn’t want my eyes to get all streaky before communion.

You know, when someone might notice the black streaks as I made my way back to my seat.

Stupid pride.

He preached about Jesus riding into Jerusalem on the donkey and how the onlookers spread their cloaks and branches, shouting,

Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!

We all know the story…while it was a celebration, the darkest day in history was well on its way.

And the problem was…I knew the story. I’ve heard it a hundred times, more than a hundred.

I keep hoping that this will be the year I feel something.

I’m waiting to feel.

Stupid feelings.

Just about anything can usually make me cry.

I sob buckets at movies.

If I ever argue with T, I’m almost always in tears at some point.

Frustrations make me cry.

Sad makes me cry.

Heck, happy makes me cry, too.

I feel…it’s how He wired me, and I accept that and always make sure I have a tissue.

I usually don’t. 😉

But I have a hard time with being able to accept that when it comes to my faith, it’s so hard for me to feel anything.

I get that a relationship with my Father is not about feelings. It’s not about emotions that pour all over the red carpet of ILC. It’s not about tears that stream down my face as I sing about all He’s done for me.

It is, in fact, about knowing Truth and trusting it even when I don’t feel it.

Yes, there have been times when I’ve cried out to God, literally…and many of them.

Yes, there have been days when I’ve heard a sermon preached and it’s moved me to tears.

There have been life-changing days when I’ve witnessed, firsthand, the power of my Father in transforming a life.

But then there are days like today…days like Palm Sunday when the church is gearing up for Holy Week and Resurrection Sunday and everyone around me seems to be so in awe and emotional…and I sit there.

Oh, the tears were brimming, but it wasn’t because I felt.

It was because I didn’t. And I wanted to. So badly.

In a raw moment, I’m going to say something, in hopes that maybe some of you can relate.

I don’t have an amazing conversion story.

What I have are pieces of ugly and unsure, steps that are hesitant and and taken in fear…that my Father has somehow woven together into a becoming-beautiful journey of trust and acceptance and assurance and surrender.

It’s not perfect, and I know what it’s like to fail.

But I do know…That I’m a sinner. That my Jesus died to forgive my sins. That my Father in Heaven loves me. That He has an eternal home for me in heaven. That I should tell the world.

And I believe it with all my heart.

It’s almost a little too simple, but it’s what He wrote for me, as only He can, and it’s what I desperately cling to on mornings like yesterday when the feelings are absent and it’s too easy to let the guilt become shameful.

It’s Holy Week.

And I know I’ll spend a lot of it reflecting, but while I reflect and regardless of what I feel, I know I need to remind myself that it’s not about feelings…

But about knowing the beauty of what came from that dark Friday so many years ago and trusting that He did it for me.

And you.

Sig

Five-Minute Friday: Remember

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write.

Today’s Topic: Remember

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Remember.

It’s a day I hold in my heart forever.

That early-Monday-afternoon in mid-June, 2010.

They placed her…all tiny, swaddled-up, seven-pounds, twelve-ounces of her into my new mama arms, and I vowed I would never forget that moment.

I stroked her dark hair and remember thinking that with all the heartburn I’d had during my pregnancy that it didn’t surprise me to see she wasn’t bald. :)

And I just looked at her. For what seemed like hours. Memorized her face. Promised to never, ever forget a single detail.

And now we walk the days together…my tiny girl grew and is growing, changed and is changing, crawled then walked and now runs everywhere, it seems.

She is beautiful…more every day.

She is everything and so much more than I ever dreamed in a daughter.

And I want to freeze time in our days, but of course, time doesn’t freeze. It defies my hopes and marches on, seemingly picking up the pace with each passing day.

Still, we mark moments. Photograph them. Write them down. Try so hard to remember everything. Knowing that one day all too soon, my little girl with messy pigtails and a song in her heart will be out making her own memories, marking up the world, singing even more loudly, loving like she does.

And we’ll be so glad we took the time to remember these moments.

My Maelie-girl…I am so proud to be your mommy.

HotChocolate06

Five Minute Friday

Sig

My God-Sized Dream: Joy Surrounding Me

JOY

What brings you joy, especially when it comes to your God-Sized Dream?

I love this question and am so very overwhelmed by it all at the same time.

Joy.

JOY.

JOY.

The word has such a different meaning now than it did just two years ago.

My husband and I were in the midst of one of the hardest seasons of our marriage. It was a daily struggle to move forward and to choose love and joy in spite of the challenges that seemed to overtake our days.

Around this time, I had gotten into the groove of blogging, and my writing was definitely something that brought joy…a place to release and be…no matter what I was feeling that particular day.

As I slowly started to become connected online with some different bloggers and friends, I came across a blog.

The writer is someone many of you may know at least through her words. And I became privileged to know her through them, too, even if we never exchanged an in-real-life, friend hug.

During those days of wondering and waiting and unknown, I found myself drawn into her story, inspired by her words, and taken by her heart for our Father.

Someone asked her the question, “How do you manage to stay so positive? So happy? Don’t you ever just get really mad?”

And her reply, specifically this part of it, changed me.

The thing I try to remind myself of, as I am without all the things that I wish I had to make me happy, is that my biggest need is Him. More than I need to be outside in the fresh air, more than I need to move without pain, more than I even need Dad… I need His will to be done in my life whether it is comfortable or not. There is not one thing that feels comfortable about my world right now, but I need Him more than I need to change my circumstances.

It’s still brutally hard. I have to remind myself of these facts every day. It doesn’t always come easily.

But it doesn’t make the truth any less true.

And the truth is that I can choose the joy.

So I do.

From this post at Sara’s blog.

Knowing Sara for the few months I did changed my perspective. Reading her words taught me how to Choose Joy, even on the days that were hard.  (Hard to me, nothing compared to what she endured.)

And I share this with you to tie it back into my answer to the question…

What brings you joy, especially when it comes to your God-Sized Dream?

Honestly, it’s the beauty He brings to each of my days.

Sunshine in the form of a little girl I am privileged to love and raise and spend my days with. I love her so much it brings tears to my eyes.

My husband and the way he loves me through each day, never settling and always striving for something more.

Heart friends…those near me and those so far away that heaven will be our reunion…who bless me with love and laughs, encouragement and prayer.

A new community of women who have inspired and blessed me along the journey to a dream.

Words…and the little gift He has given me in being able to use them to encourage others.

The sunshine streaming through the windows today.

A text or prayer of encouragement from a friend.

Printing off my rough draft and giving it to a friend. :)

A cup of coffee on a cold winter morning.

What I learned, and am continually learning, through my friend’s life is that there is JOY surrounding me.

It’s everywhere.

And it’s my choice…despite my circumstances, I can choose to find it in each day.

Maybe this is somewhat of a generic answer…I hope you don’t see it that way.

I hope that, whatever the dream God has rooted deeply in your heart, you’ll always find joy along the journey of realizing that dream.

I truly can’t wait for the day when my book is in print and I hold it in my hands.

Or for the day that I’ll hopefully have the chance to write for one of my favorite spaces.

But, today, I am embracing the joys God has given along the journey to those dreams.

For You have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I will sing for joy.
Psalm 63:7 (ESV)

As we do each Tuesday, a bunch of us are linking up with Holley Gerth and sharing all God is doing when it comes to our God-Sized Dreams! We’d love to have you join us!

God-Sized Dreams

Sig

I Confess…

Happy Monday morning, friends!

Though the calendar may say March 18th, my lawn in the burbs of Chicago is blanketed with white.

Again.

Gotta say I’m ovvvveeeer winter.

Spring, come on!!!

Yesterday morning I got up early and actually went for a run. Outside. It was glorious, exhilarating, and slightly cold, but it gave me full-on spring fever.

I thought a few Monday confessions might be good for cheering up my soooooo-ready-for-spring heart. Feel free to add some of your own in the comments. :)

I’m sitting here in a running jacket and the thickest scarf I could find in the closet. (Snow makes me cold. Even if I’m not outside in it.) Oh, and guess where I bought the scarf? Indonesia. Not kidding. Not sure I ever actually wore it there, but I do love it here! :) (And I realize this is not a great pic…another confession: This is the real of Monday. Really thankful for makeup today.) :)

Melscarf

Lately I’ve been missing Bali.  I always have a little ache in my chest when I think of Indonesia, and that’s nothing new. But Bali…it must be the lack of spring around here. And the fact that I’m doing a last read-through of my rough draft before giving it to my first readers. How I miss the ocean and surfing and wiggling my toes in the sand of Kuta beach. (Here’s a pic to make you want the beach, too. Anyone wanna go on a little vacation?! ;))

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I let Maelie wear my new (Goodwill) heels this morning. She put them on over her footie pajamas and tromped around our bedroom. And though a small piece of me thought those three inches might be a little dangerous, when she put on my headband, my heart just melted, and I sat back to enjoy the moment. Then I took a picture before I made her take them off. (Sorry, the lighting in our bedroom is not fabulous for an iPhone. And please forgive the pile of clothes…I’ll clean them up later today. ;))

Maeinheels

We may, or may not, be slightly addicted to Tangled in our house. And not only is it a great movie, the music is so fun. For the last few weeks, I have been trying to get the first song down…besides having a ton of words, the note jumps are tricky. But I’ve got it and am, unashamedly, admitting that I walk around the house singing it all day long. (Do any other musicians out there think this is a hard song to sing?)

And…here it is! Rough draft. Printed off last night. 123 pages and 36, 223 words of heart and soul on paper. I’m (most likely tearfully) handing it over to three friends this week. I’m not sure if that part is the confession…more the intense mix of elation and nerves that are currently taking over my stomach. Nothing like a little fear of rejection to make a person sweat. 😉 But mostly, I’m thrilled to be at this point. FRIENDS, I WROTE A BOOK!!!

roughdraft1

And since my heart is pounding like crazy just from telling you that, I’ll just wish you, again, a happy Monday!

Blessings. :)

Sig

Five-Minute Friday: Rest

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write.

Today’s Topic: Rest

For about a year, early in our marriage, I worked at a coffee shop that was close to our house.

I loved it…really, that kind of job is geared toward someone like me. Chatting, coffee, people…yep, it was fun.

Even the early mornings were enjoyable enough, though they required me to get up at 4:30 a.m. :)

When Friday night would hit, though, all of those pre-sunrise mornings would catch up with me, and my body would literally crash.

And early.

It wasn’t uncommon for me to be completely out before 8 pm.

One of the stories my hubby loves to tell from that year was from a certain week. Nothing in particular stands out from that week, but for whatever reason, my body was so tired, I fell asleep around 7 pm on Friday night.

And while that’s not earth-shattering, the time I got up the next day is.

One. in. the. afternoon.

He jokes about how much he got done while I was, literally, sleeping the day away…not only did he go grocery shopping (bless him to the moon and back for that one!), but he went to Menards, bought an invisible fence for our dog, and installed the entire thing before I was out of bed.

:)

I’m not going to make excuses for myself.

Clearly my body needed that rest, and when it finally got it…in the form of 18 hours?

I couldn’t believe the difference.

I felt so much more awake…alive…able to actually function.

And it’s the same way with resting in our Father.

Sometimes we go and go and go…trying to do everything in our own strength, forgetting that we have the strength of someone else.

We don’t have to do it on our own.

And when we finally slow down for that rest…for that encouragement…for His presence…it’s only then that we can continue on and feel alive again.

I am so guilty of pushing forward on my own, trying to get through my days in my own, human strength.

God, I need you. So much.

Help me to find my rest, always, in You.

Five Minute Friday

Sig

Little Blessings (Pt. 62)

Just a night for counting blessings…join me!

:) Sweet memories with my hubby. 366 days ago, we kissed under the Eiffel Tower. (Sorry, I don’t have a picture of that; we were too busy…um…kissing. ;))

us@eiffeltower

:) Hand-holding days with my girl…I want to savor every one because I know a day is coming when she won’t want to hang on anymore.

:) Unexpected blessings like chatting with a friend and a random lunch date.

:) Beautiful sunshine to make a cold day seem a little less so.

:) Music and the freedom we have to praise Him in this place.

:) A surprise conversation today with someone I’d never met who understood my Indonesia life a little. What a blessing that was to this still, sometimes-homesick, heart.

:) New friends who have spoken Truth, love, and encouragement into my life.

:) Old friends who also speak that same Truth, love, and encouragement.

:) Hard lessons and the reminder of the importance of daily surrender.

:) A Father Who loves me…even when I have those many, many moments a day when I am unlovable.

And, P.S. I couldn’t resist posting this picture just one more time. :)

best eiffel shot

What are some of the ways He’s blessed you this week?

Sig