To My Dear House,

Friends, this was a personal note I wrote last winter.  More of a rambling than a letter.  A dear friend was encouraged by it and suggested I share.  Maybe it will resonate with you too.  I am so grateful for all I have.  I just don't want to be a slave to the things that in the end, won't really matter.  I struggle all the time, but I'm learning to let go.  How about you?  

You are a safe place.  A comfortable place.  A warm place.  A refuge from rain and heat, insects and amphibians!  You hold our food, toys, toiletries and clothes.  You are where we let go.  Where we strip off the makeup and the smiles.  Where we can rest, love, cry, and just work out all of our issues.  But here’s the thing.  As much as I love you and need you, I need boundaries. 

I can no longer be a slave to you.  

My soul craves freedom.  Freedom from shining you, dusting you, obsessing over you.  You steal my time, joy and energy.  I want to just once be able to walk through you and not have to stop and worry that you need arranging and fixing, fluffing and trips to target to make you sing.  The truth is, you are beautiful when we LIVE in you.  When I say LIVE....I mean when we are free to be creative, make messes with paint slipping onto paper, laundry piled up because we’re running free outside, flour all over the kitchen because we’ve made pizza, books left in the corners of rooms, opened and calling.  Rooms that invite us to get silly.  Baths that are rimmed with bubbles.  Candles that are burned to the wick. 

I don’t want to have to worry about whether or not I have enough matching dishes to entertain a few guests or if you are perfectly picked up and scrubbed clean before a friend comes over.  I won’t put my neighbor off again, just to satisfy your need to be worshipped.  SHE comes first.  Her words in my kitchen, her hands holding the coffee mug with the crack in it, pouring out her heart.  SHE is worthy of my time.  Not you.    

Don’t call to me anymore.  

Don’t tell me I SHOULD be cleaning the ceiling fans, washing the windows and scrubbing the floors.  What I should be doing is writing down the words that feed my soul.  What I should be doing is tickling my girls on the floor until they yell mercy.  What I should be doing is cooking and leaving the dishes to go on a nature walk before dark.  

What I want to be doing is NOT worrying about my house being good enough or pretty enough or clean enough or decorated enough.  Because enough is enough. 

 And you are enough for the here and now.  Because no matter how much time and energy I give to you, you will always just be a house.  The HOME I long for, the one I’ve strived to have here, but can never achieve...is truly a place that doesn’t exist here on EARTH.  

Letting go of perfection and embracing you as you are...

my messy LIVED IN house!

Light in the dark.

She is your neighbor.  The woman with the long black hair.  The one with all the children.  The messy house. She borrows eggs from you to make pancakes on Sundays and her dog is always wandering over to your yard.   She’s getting on a plane to go visit her mother who might pass away in the night.    

She is the one you see on Facebook.  She posts a lot.  Her business is doing well.  She seems happy.  Her hair is always perfect.  She’s too busy to make it to bible study, but you keep messaging her.  No-one knows about her anxiety disorder.        

She is the mother you read about in the newspaper holding her dead child in her arms wailing while the world discusses whose fault it is.   

She is the woman who serves you at the grocery store.  You notice her arms are covered in tattoos but it’s not polite to ask so you look away.  If you had asked, she might have invited you to church and told you her story.  She was baptized by her grandfather last week. She can‘t wait to share the gospel.      

She is you. Watching the news as it spews more bad news.  The virus.  The fighting.  Don’t swim in the water or go out into the sun.  Another baby was left alone in a car and the police are under investigation for beating a man to death.  YOU watch and wilt and wonder if the Jesus you learned about since you were four years old will come in your lifetime.  Maybe even today?

We wait and sometimes even whisper, “come Jesus, we need you.”  Because in the night, when it’s very dark, it’s hard to imagine the light. 

Have faith.  Hold tight to the word.  There is hope.  He will come.

And there IS beauty shimmering all around her...and her...and her....and her, and yes, you too.  The Holy Spirit, like a lighthouse, shining from the inside out in all of us who believe.  

The Desires of Your Heart.

She was barely in her 20’s when she whispered her dreams in her husbands ear.  He stared at her in disbelief.  “What am I supposed to do with two kids?”  

I was one of those kids.  Too young to know that my mom had just told my dad she wanted to be a missionary.   

That desire stirred in my mothers heart for many years.  She had wanted to go but instead she raised us first.  Loved us well.  Modeled the love of the Lord.  Studied the word, went back to school to get her degree in education and after we had left home, spread her wings as if they had been growing in grace and beauty for just the right timing.  God’s timing.   

There are dreams we have inside of us.  Some must wait.  Others never come to be.  But to dream...is to breathe.          

Recently I spoke with a woman who told me that her daughter very much wanted and expected her to be a nanny to her child.  This sweet woman looked at my mother who was visiting me from her life as a missionary in Cambodia and said: 

“Now that I’m retired, I so long to get rid of my things and just go.  I want to live MY life.  I just don’t know how to tell my daughter that.”  

I wonder if that daughter has ever heard her mothers dreams?  The desires of HER heart.  The ones that God planted before she was even born.   There is so much MORE to a woman than just one label.  One chapter.  One season. Wife.  Mother.  Grandmother.  Lawyer.  Nurse.  Stay at home mom.  Social worker.  Teacher.  We are these things as women.  But we are also so much more.    

The dreams of others need lifting not anchoring from the hands of loved ones.  If only we could find it in ourselves to let go and watch them soar.    

Let go of who you think your mother, your father, your sister, your brother are supposed to be...so they can go live THEIR dreams without your imposed guilt.  ( cue the animated theme song, we all know and love... Let it go!)  Balloons drifting up and away in the sunlit sky.  Freedom.    

And I think of my mom.  So young.  Two little girls and a husband to take care of and her dreams burning bright inside of her.  My mother was a WONDERFUL, nurturing mother, but it wasn’t the only desire she had.  She waited patiently until it was her turn and then she flew magnificently out into the place of her dreams. (with my dad by her side) To the place where she heard The Lord call to her.  The place where she would no longer be labelled just mother or wife.  She would be so much more and is.      

How about you?  What dreams are growing inside of you?  Have you prayed about it?  Are you in a season of waiting for your dreams to be fulfilled?  How has the waiting been a challenge for you?   What about letting go?  Is there something or someone you need to let go?  Someone else’s dreams you need to support, pray for and encourage?  

God is the creator of all dreams.  He alone gives us the desires of our hearts.  We should go to Him in our need, in our waiting and in our yearning.  We should ask Him to fill us while we wait.  Ask him to give us a desire to be MORE than the label we’ve heard all our lives and ask Him to surround us with encouragers when we become brave enough to step out into our dream...at the right time.  His time.

Psalm 37:4

Take delight in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.  

A simple life.

When I was a little girl growing up in Canada my sister and I would literally be on the edge of our seats waiting for another episode of Anne of Green Gables to start.  We were enchanted with the red headed orphan girl who had won the hearts of the people of Avonlea.  A passionate girl with an imagination that soared in the open spaces of beautiful Prince Edward Island.  I watched it again recently with my ten year old daughter and it awakened my spirit leaving me with a deep sense of longing.  Longing for the simplicity of a childhood like Anne’s where fields of long grass, an open sky and the wind was the platform for expression.  Not Instagram, Facebook and texting.  Where parents were firm, strict even.  Respected.  Where best friends linked arms and giggled and were free to play all day outside making up games under the sun.  Where children were involved in the cooking and cleaning, things that took time and preparation and where prayers were lifted and expected at the end of the day.  Times have changed.  There are things that have taken the place of afternoon tea with fine china and conversation.  Life is busy and hurried and store bought.  But if we long for a simpler time, what’s to stop us from bringing it back?  Are we brave enough to even try?  

Over the weekend I took a car full of girls to a play.  The girls all had their iPhones and iPads on their laps.  

“Ok, I said, everyone put down your games.  Look out the window and find animals in the clouds!”  

I completely expected them to ignore me but one by one they shouted...I see a dragon!  A dolphin!  An alligator!  It was as if their imaginations were just waiting for permission to be unleashed.    

I see a trend out there of mothers longing for simpler things.  Simpler lives.  Mothers who bravely say, I want my kids to eat REAL food.  Mothers who put kites in the hands of their children instead of video game controllers.  Mothers and fathers who give their kids the freedom on saturdays to let the front door slam behind them as they run out to play in the grass without an agenda.  Parents who want to fill their families lives, not with the next greatest adventure, but with the next sweetest moment...the right now moment.  The moment they take a deep breath and sink into the beauty of a simple day filled with nothing but their God given imagination.  And in the words of beloved Anne Shirley: ““Dear old world', she murmured, 'you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.”      

Dear Lord, thank you for this beautiful earth.  The wind, the sky, the grass and the clouds.  Thank you for the imaginations of children and the spaces you’ve created to nurture that.  Thank you for the simple things in life and help us to carve out a time and place to enjoy them.  Thank you for creating in us a longing for all that is good and pure and of YOU Lord.  May our longing make us brave.  Make us present.  And draw us to you with every breath.  In Jesus name, Amen. 

What inspires and awakens YOUR spirit?  Do you long for a simpler life?

Sisters

The field spreads blue 

sisters

run free

arms stretched high

hair curling in humidity

voices singing into the wind 

“Stop.  Look at the camera,” we say.

but they can’t stop  

There is so much beauty to take in

So we let go of our agenda

to watch a moment of their childhood unfold

the one they long for 

where running through fields of flowers is just an ordinary day

Later with my head bowed low

The Lord gives me the image of the field where my girls ran free  

And as I look out over the field of bluebonnets I notice that not one flower stands taller than the rest.  All stand together pointing upward in the afternoon sun.

And I understand what ALL daughters of the King are created to be.  United. 

    

Sisterhood.  None taller than the rest.  Just togetherness.  One heart beating in the quiet garden of His presence.  

Join ACF Women’s groups. Discover sisterhood.  Uncover your beauty in Him. 

Acts 4:32

Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own, but they had everything in common.

Ephesians 1:10

As a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth

What I've Learned About Cancer.

When one of our dear friends was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, a beloved mentor friend said to me: “pay attention to what you are meant to learn during your walk with this family”  

Flash forward several months.  I have learned a lot about cancer.  

I have learned that cancers job is to multiply and grow.

I have learned that even if you leave 1% of the cancer cells on a brain tumor from surgery, that cancer will grow back and multiply. 

I have learned that there is a new chemo pill you can take, so you no longer have to go to the hospital to get your chemo treatments.

I have learned that cancer is an aggressive, ugly, painful disease.

I have learned that cancer doesn’t just affect the person who has it.  It affects families and communities.  

But I don’t think those were the things I was “meant” to learn.   

This weekend we participated in a run to support our friend on his journey through cancer.  150 people showed up wearing a T-shirt that his 10 year old son designed.  It says “God is Able.”  And it shows his dad in the boat while a shark below has his mouth wide open to the “cancer fish” swimming around. Those words “God is Able” have become the food we eat and the wine we drink. And that man in the boat?  He believes he is already healed.   

We watched this lovely man walk around all day receiving hugs and well wishes, he was prayed over and loved and supported.  People came from near and far to wrap their arms around him and his wife and children.

We witnessed prayers by a sweet woman who has loved this family like her own.  Who, despite falling down the stairs and injuring her leg, runs this race with this family in so many ways.  And there are over 100 more people just like this, who are praying for healing and who show up, with meals, with words, with hugs, with support of every kind and with “God is Able” in their hearts.   

After everything I’ve learned about this thing called cancer, I’ve realized that it doesn’t matter how ugly cancer is, how long it will last or where it will travel because the one thing cancer can’t touch is LOVE.  It can touch the body, but not the spirit.  

Cancer can’t touch love.

CANCER CAN’T TOUCH LOVE!!!

When we shift our focus from the cancer to the love, there is so much beauty to behold.  So many blessings.  

Near the end of the day a little boy ran over to our friend and tapped on his arm to get his attention and he said this:  Excuse me, but did you know that you’re famous?  I thought to myself yes, man made weak, God made strong.  We make God famous in our weakness because of the way we need to lean on God and because of the way it pulls out our love for one another pointing to the giver of ever lasting life. 

And so I will have tea with my mentor friend one day soon and tell her of the things I have learned.  I will tell her that I’ve learned that cancer can’t touch love and that of all the ugliness I’ve seen our friend go through, I’ve also seen him walking in peace, in hope, in faith and in love.  God bless him.      

Dear Lord Jesus,

Thank you for this beautiful family.  Thank you for putting them in our lives.  For the opportunity to love them and share life on earth with them.  We love you Lord.  We thank you for every breath, every moment, every time we suffer and struggle and every time we lift up our arms in complete joy and thanksgiving because we know that ALL of it is a part of your plan, wrapped in YOUR love forever and ever.  Amen.  

1 Corinthians 2:5

So that your faith might not rest on human wisdom but on God’s power.  

1 Corinthians 13 1-3

If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.  If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing.  If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it, but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing.   

2 Corinthians 12:9

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness,”  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 

The Quilt

She brought it out into the sunlight from the flooded basement.  She washed it again and again and presented it to me on my 40’th birthday.  

“It was the last quilt your grandmother was working on before she passed,” my aunt said, wiping her hands on her apron, a pot roast bubbling in her kitchen.  

“It’s not finished, but I thought you would like to have it.”

In that moment I felt the kind of love you feel when you’re a child.  I knelt on the floor to study it like it was treasure.  Patches of clothing from generations woven together by my grandmother as she sat by the window watching the birds... 

A stranger at my door quickly became my friend as we sat at my dining room table and talked about restoring the quilt,  chatting about family, relationships and grandmothers.  She showed me the places to start.  The tools to use.  Her tone was patient and gentle.  Sweet like a songbird. When she left I laid the quilt out on the floor and took OUT every stitch my grandmother had so carefully sewed IN so I could remove the moldy wool batting inside.  I separated the front and back so we could make two quilts...one for each of my daughters.  I pinned the patches back together exactly where my grandma had intended them to be and then handed it back to my new friend to sew them together again.  All this work to save some old fabric....

The quilts came back beautiful and vibrant, cozy and smelling like sunshine and fabric softener.  Prayed over.  NEW.   Pieces of my daughters clothing had been added to them...dresses when they were babies and special christmas pajamas.  I can’t wait to give the girls these gifts.      

My grandmother has made a handful of quilts and given them to family members across the globe.  I have imagined her in her farmhouse working away on these blankets. Imagined her putting down the thread to have tea with my Grandfather or take a break to feed the barn cats.  I hear her phone ringing with news of a new baby.  See the butter tarts baking in her oven, and the plants growing in her kitchen to bring to a widow at church.  She is there with a glass at the sink taking her pills and waiting for my sister to arrive for a weekend visit.  She is watering her hydrangeas in the afternoon sun while grandpa works in his shop building boats.  I see a buckets of blueberries waiting to be placed in the pies she’ll make, the cows mooing at her laundry strung across the clothes line in the mountain air.  I imagine her putting her sewing in a basket by the bed before she kisses my grandfather goodnight by lamplight.       

My dear Grandmother.  Your memory is ALIVE when I think about these quilts and the sweetness of your ordinary days working on them. 

Taking the stitches OUT of your quilt brought me closer to you, gave me time to think about you, appreciate you.  And seeing them put back IN...reminds me of the redeeming beauty of the Lord’s work...how when we find ourselves in dark places, the damp and mold seeping in, making us feel unworthy,  the Lord lifts us out into the light, and then begins the work of unravelling the lies of the world, stitching back TRUTH until we are NEW and beautiful and feel like we once again have something to offer.  So yes, ALL this work to save some old fabric was worth it...there is so much beauty in restoring what was lost.  

Thank you God...for taking us out of the dark and making us new....your people...a quilt of many colors blowing in the wind.