Splash the Puddles

The weather has been a tad bit dreary where we live lately.  It's temperamental at best.  This evening as I was riding down the road, I noticed how dark the clouds and sky were for the time of day it was.  As I watched, suddenly the grey skies parted for just a moment and the most beautiful light shone through, casting sunbeams across the clouds.  I smiled as the Lord whispered, "This is how it is with me sometimes. Life may seem grey, the rain keeps falling and the clouds linger, but when those times come, if you wait and if you watch, you will see that I am still there.  The Son, behind it all, shining through with my Light that casts itself across your clouds."  With that, the clouds in the sky came together, leaving only a hint of the brightness that had so clearly shone just moments before.  I smiled, knowing that tucked within this cloudy forecast and these grey skies, there was a great light, shining bright.  Though momentarily clouded by ...

Recently, my pastor spoke one simple sentence that has taken hold of my heart and hasn't loosened it's grip since. "We have [His promised] peace as Christ followers, but it is up to use how we cultivate this fruit..."  When we enter into relationship with Jesus, He freely gifts us with His peace, but how thoroughly that is manifested throughout our lives is in our hands. In other words, whether it lies dormant, or whether it brings the life that is intended, is determined by how dependent we are on it, how well we utilize the gift of peace He's given us. Peace in my circumstances, in the "bigger" areas of life seems to come fairly easy to me.  When we've faced difficult roads as a family, the loss of our first baby, and other various trials, I've basked in the comfort of God's peace throughout the hardship and healing.  I know that peace that passes all understanding... There's one area, however, where I've had a lifelong struggle...

In the parable of the Lost Son, Jesus teaches of a man with two sons.  He divided equally each one's share of his estate, withholding nothing from them.  Having been equipped with all he needed for a prosperous and victorious life, the youngest son soon set off on his own.  Venturing out in his own strength,  he managed to squander everything he had been given, wasting it all on wild living.  Once it was all gone, there was a famine in the land and he was in need.  By this time, desperation had set in, and he hired himself out to a citizen of the country to feed his pigs.  Scripture said "he longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything..."   He'd been given everything he needed, and abundantly, by his father who loved him.  Yet, he wasted it all.  Face to face with his shame and guilt, he had a choice. He could continue to perish in the suffocating circumstances that were a result of ...

Some mornings, Will wakes up as a baby dinosaur.  Sometimes a pterodactyl, but usually a baby T-Rex.  This morning, he had a hard time waking up and stepping into the shower.  So, I encouraged him with a little mommy T-Rex nudge.  I whispered to him, "Wake up, little T-Rex and hurry into the shower before the raptors attack us..."  (I was desperate to not be late to work again, y'all...) It worked. Wide eyed and well aware of my dinosaur ignorance he confidently replied, "But we are bigger and more powerful than they are, mommy T-Rex.  They can't hurt us..." By then he was awake and cold, so into the warm shower he hopped, not phased by the threat of a raptor attack. My boy knows his dinosaurs, and whether it is true or not that a raptor could not hurt a T-Rex is beyond me.  I honestly have no clue. I've seen a Jurassic movie or two.  I'm sure they could leave a scratch, maybe draw some blood, even temporarily weaken a T-Rex with cunning st...

Our little Will has struggled with fear for as long as he has been able to recognize the concept. It seems he’s always had a thing. Fearing Mommy not coming back, afraid of going potty, afraid of going into rooms alone, fear of being left behind, and most recently a debilitating fear of weather. When I say debilitating, I’m not exaggerating. At the beginning of the school year, he’d come out to the playground during our shared recess time and he’d stand right beside me. When I went inside, he’d move to his teacher’s side. The only way he’d go play and enjoy his friends was if the sky was perfectly blue without a cloud in sight. He was terrified of the possibility of what could be, even when there was no justifiable reason to feel afraid. When it actually would storm, a new form of terror would come over him, and it was all-consuming.  I have prayed over him daily. Nightly. And in between. 1 Peter 5:7 was my banner over his life. I begged God to release him from the grips of fear...

I like words. I mean, I REALLY like words. I think there is such beauty in both written and spoken language. If you open safari on my phone, you’ll likely find an online dictionary open in the first tab, if Amazon Prime hasn’t claimed its spot that particular day. (I also love Amazon Prime).  I look up definitions all the time. Ask anyone who knows me better than most. I’m obsessed.  I write words. I speak words. I teach words. These days I even hang words...ALL OVER MY HOUSE! (My best friend and I have admitted we have a problem with this. We have a pact: no more words on the wall. Then Hobby Lobby and Southern With Grace happen. Words, words, words).  They just call out to me. They speak to me. They give me expression. I love word meaning.  At the beginning of each year, I ask the Lord to give me, you guessed it, words . Words for the year, words He wants me to hear. Words he wants me to live. Last year he gave me one word. Peace. This year, like on the interior w...

Last night when we got home, Will was pogoing in the house. (We’ve allowed this because it’s so cold and also he’s obsessed and he’s being active. It helps that we are on a concrete slab.) I was in the bathroom, but apparently Cliff told him to stop and get ready for bed, and it took him another few hops before he actually stopped. He stopped by accidentally landing on one of my new wall decor pieces from Southern with Grace. (Gasp). It broke.  Hasn’t even been hung yet. Have I mentioned that’s pretty much my favorite home decor provider? I knew none of this because I’m still in bathroom. (Maybe hiding for a little peace and quiet. I’ll never tell). I heard him start crying loudly, but figured he’d gotten in trouble about not listening or something and didn’t think much of it. Anyway-when I finally came out of the bathroom he was sitting on my bed crying pitifully. I smiled at him and patted his head, but I didn’t really coddle him or anything because I didn’t want to undo any dis...