Category: Uncategorized

 

It’s time to start thinking about what to read on summer vacation! Woo hoo!

Is there anything better than reading by the ocean? I think not.

So here are four of my suggestions for summer reading 2017:

• Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea by Barbara Demick. With everything in the news lately about North Korea and leader Kim Jong-Un, I’ve been curious about this country and its people. I admit my ignorance was strong! Although this book was published in 2009, it is still a great resource for understanding North Korea. The author interviewed and got to know people who had defected from North Korea into neighboring China or South Korea, and they gave detailed and unbelievable accounts of what life is really like for North Korean citizens. From tales of surveillance and starvation to gender expectations, this book is an eye-opener for what it’s like to live in a Communist nation. I could not put it down! It’s not dry or boring like a textbook. Rather, it is facts presented through stories, which is always the best way to learn. (I really want my son to read it, but there are some places with profanity, so I might wait a couple of years. I think it would be great reading for teenagers, to help them understand the huge role government plays in our lives.)
• At Home in the World: Reflections on Belonging While Wandering the Globe by Tsh Oxenreider. I’ll admit I was hesitant about reading this one. It’s the true account of Tsh and her husband traveling across the planet – literally – with their three children. They visited Australia, China, New Zealand, Europe… Countries all over the world. I was hesitant to read it because I wasn’t sure I could connect. It’s only in recent years I’ve begun to love to travel myself, and I’ve certainly not done it with a backpack and three children. But her amazing storytelling and ability to zing you with one-liners drew me in immediately. I loved how she constantly ponders the tension between loving to travel and loving to be at home – while simultaneously exploring what home really is. Here’s a hint at her style: “Our individual bodies take up minute measurements of space, which is a good thing because there are more than seven billion of us. But it’s easy to feel bigger than I am, important within my own thoughts and somehow significant in the grand scheme of things. My life matters, of course, and so do the lives of my other four family members. So, too, do the seven billion other lives currently inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide twenty thousand times a day. We all matter. And yet we are so much more microscopic than our daily tasks lead us to believe. Tiny. What a tiny place I occupy in the world.“
• The Road Back to You: An Enneagram Journey to Self-Discovery by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile. OK – I kept hearing about this book from people in my writing group. I avoided it for a long time because it sounded weird to me. Enneagram? What’s that? It sounded like it might be psycho, new-age mumbo jumbo, and I wanted no part of that. Turns out I couldn’t have been more wrong. This book has opened my eyes to why I am the way I am, at least according to the personality I’ve always had. The basic premise is that everyone falls into one of the nine personality types. People with each type share common characteristics, often including the way they acted as children and the way they react when stressed. For example, I learned I’m a Type Five: The Investigator. Y’all, it’s so doggone right on. Characteristics of my personality type? “Experience the world as intrusive, overwhelming and draining… Typically introverted and analytical… Fearful they don’t have sufficient inner resources to function in the world, they detach and withdraw into the mind… Look to knowledge to provide them with what most people find through relationships, such as love, comfort and support.” The great thing about this book is that it gives the positives and negatives of the personality types, and at the end of each chapter, it has a section called “Spiritual Transformation.” In other words, what we need to do as Christians to thrive in our God-given personalities. It’s a great resource if you want to understand yourself and others better. If you’re in leadership of any kind, I highly suggest reading it and learning about the people on your team.
• Never Unfriended: The Secret to Finding and Keeping Lasting Friendships by Lisa-Jo Baker. This book affected more than I’d like to admit. Because of my personality type (see above), it is not easy for me to develop close friendships. I tend to withdraw and assume rejection, which is super healthy. Or not. Regardless, the topic of friendship and the way Lisa-Jo presents it made me cry multiple times. She shares her own struggles and gives Biblical and practical advice. In the beginning of the book, she references the story in Luke where someone asked Jesus who the neighbor is that we’re to love. She writes, “But when the scholar pressed Jesus to define who exactly this neighbor is that we’re commanded to love, Jesus didn’t give an inch. He gave a story. And it defines neighbor not as a particular who, but instead as a what, as in what you should do. The parable of the good Samaritan isn’t about identifying your neighbor; it’s about being a neighbor. In essence, it’s about being the kind of friend you wish you had.” She carries this perspective throughout the book and challenges the reader to check herself – to really see if she’s being a friend instead of wishing for one. I underlined so many lines in this book, it’s full of pencil lead. But it’s one I’ll definitely go back to again and again. So, so good.

 

So there are four books I think you should – what should I read next? I love nonfiction and historical fiction, memoir and biography… Pretty much anything! Recommend your favorites by commenting below!

 

Tears filled my eyes yesterday as I raised my arms in worship and declared the truths of the hymn, “It Is Well with My Soul.” Because it is. It finally is.

Six years ago, it wasn’t, and I wasn’t sure it ever would be again. Six years ago at this exact time, my marriage had fallen apart. My husband was gone, and I was begging God to bring him back.

Six years ago today, my soul was struggling to believe that the God who is love still loved me, and my soul was trying to make sense of a God whose plans to prosper and not harm me included a devastating separation and divorce.

My faith was battling my sight, and my emotions were clouding my belief.

Every day I had to remind myself that God had not forsaken me, and every day I had to tell myself to praise him despite how I felt. Some days I succeeded, and some days I failed. When you’re in the midst of a storm, your faith becomes more than a mere profession of words. It becomes a lifeline to keep you alive. When sorrows like sea billows roll, it’s easy to drown. Some days I felt like I would.

The strange thing about those days, though, is that while they were the worst of my life, they were also unbelievably sweet. They were agonizing, yes, but they also ushered me directly into the arms of my Father. I had never known God to be so near, and I had never been as convinced that He would take care of me. I doubted and I questioned, but I trusted and I believed. Those days were a paradox I’m not sure I can explain.

Six years later, it really is well with my soul. Not because God brought my husband back. He didn’t. Not because He’s taken all my pain. He hasn’t. But because I know whom I have believed.

I thanked God yesterday for my divorce because it is what He used to make my faith real. My divorce is what proved to me the goodness of my God, and my devastation is what taught me He is trustworthy in it all.

It’s easy to thank God when all is well, and it’s no sacrifice to praise when life is simple. But I’ve learned that untested faith is often no faith at all. As we sang “It Is Well” in church yesterday, I wondered how many of us truly believed the words we sang. I wondered if our words were empty recitations or bold declarations.

I don’t wish divorce on you, and I pray you are protected from life’s worst tragedy. But I have learned to be thankful for mine because I have seen how God used even it. He wastes nothing.

Today, I can sing – and really mean – “through the storm I am held.” Because I was.

I love the lines, “Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well, It is well with my soul.” Thou hast taught. Wellness in our souls is not a natural state; it is learned through our lot. It is taught through our troubles.

So today, like yesterday, I will give thanks for what God has done. I will praise him for how He proved himself true, and I will lift my arms and declare, “It is well, it is well with my soul.”

 

 

Oh, how I wish you would think I have it all together.

But I don’t, and I probably can’t even fool you into thinking I do. That doesn’t stop me from trying, though. It doesn’t stop me from smiling a big smile when I really feel like crying and talking like everything’s just dandy. It doesn’t stop me from hiding my insecurities and pretending I know what I’m doing.

I don’t know what I’m doing, y’all. I’m a mess and a disaster and an actress who tries to pretend I’m not. 

I don’t have it all together.

You don’t have it together either, do you? You feel like a mess and a disaster, too, but you also pretend that you’re not.

It’s a maddening game we play, and it’s tearing all of us apart.

We put on elaborate masks and fake faces for the world, and we hide who we really are. We deny the weight of the worries we carry, and we refuse to admit our deepest struggles. We want everyone to think we have it all together, and we don’t even know what “it” is.

Here’s what I’ve come to understand: when we set out to pretend we’re OK, we unintentionally hurt those who are not. We send a silent but serious message that struggles are not to be shared, and we perpetuate the lie that perfection can be attained.

Our pretend life becomes someone else’s goal, and their inability to achieve it only devastates them more.

We cover and conceal our own messiness, and as a result, others believe it doesn’t exist. They think we have it all together, so they think they should, too.

Our dishonesty about our struggles leads others to make wrong assumptions about themselves – that they are faulty, broken, and inept.

What a lie, and what a disastrous testimony from us.

We cause others to stumble because of our dishonesty. We fool them into thinking they can master this thing called life, and we bring shame into their lives when they can’t.

But none of us can. 

We certainly don’t need to shout the details of our struggles from the rooftop, and we don’t need to let everyone in to our personal lives. Some hardships should not be broadcast, and some people shouldn’t be trusted with our pain.

But pretending all is well is wrong. Faking fine is a flat-out lie.

It’s such a relief to share the truth of your heart with someone you can trust. It’s freeing to admit all is not well. But it’s not just relief we experience when we share our true selves. It’s advice. Companionship. Solidarity. Intercession. The knowledge that we are not alone.

When I keep my struggles to myself, I can also keep them from myself. I can live in denial day after day, fooling myself into thinking I’m good. I can convince myself (until I fall apart) that I’m doing just fine and that I certainly don’t need any help. I can also begin to believe I’m alone in how I feel – and isolation is always the beginning of an implosion.

I don’t want to glorify my struggles, but I don’t want to gloss over them, either. I want to grapple with them in the groups God has placed me in. I want to be real in the relationships that matter in my life. I want to get past the pretending and allow myself to face what I feel.

Fine is a lie. Fake is a fraud.

Let’s remind ourselves of whom we can trust and resolve to be real with them. Let’s be people who are real and who refuse to pretend anymore. Let’s be honest with ourselves and those we love – because there’s more at stake than how we appear.

 

 

I have a free gift for you – a printable called “A Soul That Thirsts for the Lord.” Click here and I’ll send it to you!

 

 

There is no part of my natural self that wants to forgive.

When someone has wronged me, hurting my heart and damaging my soul, my innate desire is to get even. I want them to hurt like I have hurt, and I want to feel justified in holding on to the anger. I want to tell myself that their behavior just means they’re bad people, and I want to be OK with turning my back on them forever.

I don’t want to forgive them. I want to reduce the totality of their lives to their very worst acts, and I want to hold myself up in superiority over them. I want to believe I could never do what they’ve done, and I want to march on through my life holding what they’ve done against them.

That’s what I want to do.

But I can’t.

I follow Jesus, and Jesus commands me to forgive. His ways definitely are not mine, and his way is always forgiveness.

Unforgiveness in my heart always remains a festering wound in my life, and the infection it leaks always ends up making me sick. It slowly fills me with contempt and resentment, and the bitterness over what happened consumes me. Holding back from forgiving is the easiest and most natural way, for sure. But it’s also the most disastrous.

Forgiveness is hard. But it’s the only way to life.

It’s taken me years to figure out why it’s so hard to forgive. It’s because we see forgiveness as a single act instead of an ongoing process. We assume forgiveness takes place in a single moment rather than every day of our lives.

God has a lot to say about forgiveness, and when I really examine his words and hold them up against what I want, I’m dumbfounded. Because what He said and what I want don’t line up.

God said:

• “Forgive as the Lord forgave you“ (Col. 3:13). Well, He forgave me of everything. (Even the things I haven’t done yet.) He forgave me 100%. Forever. With no conditions and no exceptions. He forgave me while I was still a sinner and unaware of my own filth (Rom. 5:8). He forgave me as He was being tortured and killed. He forgave me before I even asked for forgiveness. If I am commanded to forgive as Christ did, then I must unconditionally forgive my offenders of everything, for all time, even if they are unrepentant. Forgiveness is always a choice; it is always a deliberate act.

 

God said:

• “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins” (Matt. 6:14-15). My unforgiveness prevents my own forgiveness. I don’t want to believe this is true. My natural self wants to hold on to outrage over what was done to me, and my sinful nature wants to believe I deserve God’s forgiveness but that others don’t deserve mine. I am so selfish and wrong. The extent to which God forgives me is directly related to the extent to which I release others for how they’ve wounded me. I cannot expect to receive forgiveness if I am unwilling to give it.

 

God said:

• “Then Peter came up and said to him, ‘Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times’” (Matthew 18:21-22). If I were to summarize the greatest lesson I’ve ever learned about forgiveness, it would be this: it goes on forever. When an offense is so great it changes your life, each passing day can reveal a previously undiscovered effect. Each day, a memory can trigger a hurt. A destination, smell, or innocent conversation can remind you of the offense. Whenever you remember, you must forgive yet again. And there’s no limit to how many times you must forgive. For some offenses, forgiveness must happen daily – or even multiple times a day. I’ve discovered for myself that forgiveness isn’t a single act. It is an ongoing process.

 

Why is forgiveness so hard? Because nothing about it comes naturally. It is a supernatural act, empowered by the Holy Spirit. Left to myself, unforgiveness will reign. Bitterness will remain, and resentment will abound. But with the power of the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead, I can release others from their wrongdoing. I can forgive what feels unforgivable. I can live free from the trappings of a heart entangled in hurt.

With Christ, I can forgive.

 

I have a free gift for you! Click here to get my printable, “A Soul That Thirsts for the Lord.”

 

Since I’m a word person, I love finding quotes that speak truth in just a few words. Here are some that have spoken to me recently:

 

People on the ol’ internet are so clever, y’all. Whenever I see a hilarious meme, I marvel and think, “How did they come up with that?” Clearly, I don’t excel in the humor department, so I just appreciate it from afar.

Here are five memes that made me LOL. Literally – I chuckled audibly.

And finally, my personal favorite:

Gotta love them! Enjoy your weekend!

 

My daughter hates it when my husband kisses me. Or hugs me. Or dances with me in the kitchen.

She huffs in exasperation and always tries to climb between us, saying, “No! My Mommy!”

She pushes us apart, rolling her eyes, and is completely disgusted by our physical affection.

We think it’s hilarious. (So naturally we do it on purpose and make sure she’s watching.)

I hope it’s always like this, with her trying to weasel her way between us as we snuggle and pretending to vomit when we kiss. I’m not sure there’s much more I want her to remember from her childhood than that the adults in her house loved each other greatly.

My daughter is a child of divorce, and I worry so much about how it will affect her. She was small when it happened, and she and her brother have been incredibly resilient so far. She doesn’t remember much from when her dad and I were married, but she’s going to remember everything about her stepdad and me. So we’re doing all we can to make her memories good ones – including grossing her out when we kiss.

I didn’t grow up in a demonstrably affectionate family, and I want my kids to know physical affection. I hug and kiss them, tousle their hair, and scratch my son’s back every night as we pray. I count the freckles on their cheeks and give them five as they walk by, and I tickle them when I get the chance. My daughter still sits in my lap (though she’s getting too heavy), and the kids see my husband hold my hand.

I want my children to know that love is an action, not just a word, and that when we love there is always visible evidence. I want them to feel security in the relationships they see, and I want them to grow up never doubting love filled their home. I want them to understand that their stepdad and I aren’t just parents raising them, but we’re partners who love each other deeply, too. I want them to see an example of a man who’s unashamed to show his love, and thankfully they’re seeing that in our home.

Does my daughter get grossed out? Yep. Do I silently giggle when she does?

Every day.

We are not a perfect family, and I’m definitely not a perfect mom. But we love each other fiercely, and love covers a multitude of wrongs.

 

If you’re looking for gift ideas for a book lover this Christmas, look no further! Here’s a list of books I have loved. (Some were released this year, and some are oldies but goodies.)

Fiction Choices:

• Sue Monk Kidd’s The Invention of Wings – I could not put this one down! Historical fiction centered around slavery in Charleston.
• Kelli Estes’s The Girl Who Wrote in Silk – historical fiction about a Chinese girl’s secrets. Fascinating. Page-turner. Loved it.
• Kristin Hannah’s The Nightingale – historical fiction in WWII. I have told everyone I’ve ever met to read this book. Believe me when I say it’s amazing.
• Fredrik Backman’s A Man Called Ove – an old man alienates and endears his neighbors. I still can’t believe how much I liked this one!
• Kristin Hannah’s Winter Garden – the story of sisters who learn about their mother’s past when they come together to care for their dying father.

 

Nonfiction Favorites:

• Jerry Sittser’s A Grace Disguised – perfect for someone who has faced a tragedy and needs a reminder of hope. I wept while reading it.
• Jessica Turner’s The Fringe Hours – for those busy moms who can’t find time for themselves. Super practical tips.
• Sarah Bessey’s Jesus Feminist – The subtitle says it all: Exploring God’s Radical Notion That Women Are People, Too. (Yes, and amen.)
• Leeana Tankersley’s Brazen – encourages women to step out of shame into who they were created to be. Challenging and convicting.
• Christa Black Gifford’s Heart Made Whole – explores how the death of her infant daughter taught her about the true Healer.

 

If you’re looking for other gift ideas for readers, check these out:

• Handmade leather journal – my husband bought me one of these and I love it!
• Bookmark clips – these are practical and adorable. If you know someone who hates dog-earing their pages, buy them some of these!

 

Disclosure: affiliate links are used in this post.

 

When I learned my second pregnancy was with a little girl, I immediately had visions of tutus and hairbows. Parenting up to that point had consisted of Tonka trucks and John Deere tractors, so the thought of dressing up a little girl fascinated me. I left the ultrasound and went straight to the store, needing to buy something pink and prissy to hang in her closet.

Today, that little girl is nearly 10 years old, and although I dressed her in pink and placed the biggest bows I could find on her tiny baby head, she did not turn out to be a prissy girl. She is athletic and strong, and she would rather wear running shorts and t-shirts than dresses and tights.

Her dark brown hair cascades down her back, and a ponytail has become her signature look. But that dark brown ponytail has become the biggest argument-inducer between the two of us. She hates to condition it, hates to dry it, and hates to brush it. If she had her way, her hair would always air dry and be full of tangles and knots. We’ve gone around and around about it, and every night I find myself asking, “Have you brushed your hair yet?” I always know the answer.

After a busy night recently of her gymnastics practice and her brother’s football activities, we rushed to eat dinner, make lunches, take showers, and get everyone ready for bed. It wasn’t until I tucked her in that I noticed her hair. Unbrushed. Wet. Tangled.

I wish I could say I handled it calmly, but I didn’t. I was tired and harried, and I let my frustration over her actions direct my handling of the situation. I fussed. I criticized. And I made her cry.

“I’m sorry,” she tearfully apologized, adding, “I’m so mad at myself.”

And in that moment, I became mad at myself, too.

To continue reading, click here. I’m honored to be guest posting at faithfulsparrow.com! 

 

Lord,

Some days I feel like such a screw-up. I wake up wanting to stay in bed, sleeping away the minutes you’ve given me. I want to do what’s comfortable for myself and what will bring me most satisfaction, all while forgetting you didn’t make me for me.

You made me for you.

So God, I need to confess.

I confess that most days I think more about myself than I ever think about you. Even in the work that you have given me, I look for ways to take myself higher. In the relationships you’ve gifted me, I look for ways to have my way be the way. In the life you have presented me, I make it all about myself.

I confess that I spend far too much time thinking about what others think of me. I listen for their opinions while ignoring your truth. I repeat their praises and insults to myself, disregarding your words about who I truly am.

I confess that my fears motivate me far more than my faith, and I quickly assume the worst of you rather than believing the best. When things don’t go my way, I think, “It’s because He doesn’t love me” rather than “It’s only because He loves me.” I believe the worst of you.

I confess that I try to conceal my shortcomings and sin rather than present them to you for change. I hide them from you like I do from everyone else, and then I get frustrated when I don’t feel that you’re helping me. I think you’ll be disappointed if I’m honest with you, and I let myself forget you already know all my truths.

I confess that I compare every part of my life to every part of other people’s, and on a daily basis, I wish for what you don’t intend to be mine. I want their homes, their status, their personalities, and their looks. I want everything but what I have, and I forget that all I have is a gift.

I confess that I complain about the world but never reach out to help change it. I lament over the sadness, but I never comfort the grieving. I bemoan the tragedies, but never step into the mess. I pray for your Kingdom to come but never act as your hands and feet.

I confess that I hold grudges against those who have hurt me. I ignore your command to forgive and carry my pain as an unneeded burden.

I confess that I wonder if I’m enough. If you’re enough. If I have enough. If there’s time enough. I believe more in scarcity than I do your abundance.

I confess that I’m wrong.

I confess that I’ve wandered.

But today, I confess that you’re Lord.

 

Interested in receiving notifications to your inbox? Sign up here and receive a free gift.