Sisters On A Summer Day

Our girls are growing like weeds. They're taller, yes, but it's there friendship that's blooming into this glorious sunflower patch of vibrant joy. These girls can bring out the best (and the worst) in each other.

They can pretend play Rupunzel for hours on end.

They both change their clothes a dozen times a day.

They have the most extravagant tea parties at the pink princess table in their room nearly every afternoon.

But I must say what I love most about these two treasure gals is the way they can make each other laugh.

Last Saturday was one such sunny afternoon...

Two giggling girls running and jumping, twirling, and spinning till their hearts content.

Satisfying Silliness,

Naturally seeping out of the two of them and seeping into this Mama heart. I couldn't help but laugh that silent belly laugh of mine... the one where nobody else can hear a sound coming out of my mouth, the one where my stomach pained from the joy is the only invisible evidence.

I never had a sister.

I don't really know what sisters are all about.

But I know a bit of these two sisters...

I see the way they laugh together.

I soak up the way the oldest one helps the youngest one up onto the trampoline.

I smile at the way they chase each other round and round.

I thank Him for the evidence of full fledged fun all over their feet.

And I try to capture their friendship with my lens so that my worn memory might always be able to reminisce about these precious faces.

Sure do love these sister girls!!

The Porch

Life has been too busy lately. Not that I have even left the farm all that much, but My Joey, he works 9-5 and he's got places to go and people to see. It's all good stuff. But all the same, my heart misses his and things can get lonely up here, on the hill, in the sticks, while I'm potty training #3, and #4 is teaching himself how to crawl, everywhere. And him and I we can't always connect the way that our souls were meant to connect. So we move through our days, talking business (bills, kids, who needs what, where, those sorts of things).

He's always sure to kiss my forehead, letting my sleepy self know that he's home from his adventures for that day. I pull him in close and whisper in his ear, "How I missed you today." He assures me in his own tender way that he's missed me too.

We pray quietly for one another throughout our days. Prayer connects us. We know too well that time is a missing piece. And we pray for wisdom in using our time wisely.

But this past Tuesday.

After work, we eat dinner at the farm table, which we do nearly every night. He was finishing up the last dish in warm effort to help me a bit before he was off to his staff meeting. I felt his eyes watching me pick up pieces of the tornado that had struck our living room that afternoon as he dried his hands with a dish towel. I was worn out, physically yes, but more so in my spirit, mainly just longing for his time. It's not that I can't do it on my own, it's just that I like it better when we're together. I didn't say anything to him with my words, but I'm guessing he must have noticed as I forced a smile across my face and stood up to hug him good bye... again...

"You okay?" He asked

"Ya, just tired. Missing you. Like it when we're together."{weak smile}

He wraps his arms around my neck and tucks me close up under his chin.

"Ya know what? I think I'm just gonna text Michael and let him know I'm not gonna make it tonight."

"Why?"

"You and me, I think we need to hang out on the porch."

"Really?"

As exhausted as I was, my whole body perked up, my face lit up. He sent the text. He poured me a glass of iced tea and pulled the rocking chair from the living room onto the porch for me.

We spent a few hours out there. We made each other laugh. He really is hilarious. We watched the sunset and listened to Casting Crowns' Bluegrass Tribute. He showed me a few new things I could do with my camera. He took my hand and he prayed over my heart and our marriage, our kids and our life.

I have a feeling that memories made on that porch just might hold up a lifetime...

Him and I, our union as husband and wife, we're together solely for His glory. This love of ours, it shapes me, crafts me into this woman that I never imagined I could be. The way he loves me, it takes me to the one true source of love, God Himself, the one who's very being defines love. Man, how I love this man of mine. Grateful that he reminds me that my value, my purpose, my strength, my wisdom all flows freely from the Father. All I need to do is ask, trust, and rest.

The sun has set and I'm reminded that the source of all my needs, emotionally, physically, and spiritually, is nothing more than a whisper away.

Thank you Lord for a husband who gently leads me to you, with a glass of iced tea, and a rocking chair on a porch. :)

How The Farm Might Make A Mama Brave

(FYI... This post contains a photo of a very dead mouse, and headless snake... If that thought makes you a bit queazy... well then just skip this post.)

After the twenty hour ride home from good old California, we drove east down County Line Rd completely done. The kids spoke out loud each land mark as we drew nearer to the farm gate, "There's the blue house. Two more miles."

"There's wind mill park, just a few more blocks."

In the distance we could all see the white fence that began our property... And then there it was, the opening into the farm. EVERYONE cheered. We made our way down the dirt driveway, in between the barn and the garage, back up the little hill. Joey and my eyes scanning the fields, our mouths stuck in the shape of an upside down rainbow, our hearts all giddy. And in our silence we knew this genuine joy, that while we're waiting for heaven, God has graciously made this little farm our home!

I've learned a thing or two in the simplicity of this place. I've learned to make a killer pie crust from scratch. It works great for anything from fruit pies, to chicken pot pies.

I've discovered that I can do even the nastiest of tasks as long as I have on a thick pair of orange rubber gloves. Grandma was in town this week and she taught me how to make the family's secret recipe for spaghetti sauce. I have this thing with raw meat... plain and simple, it's disgusting. So I pulled out my orange gloves and and rolled up a dozen meatballs without sticking my tongue out or scrunching my eye brows.

I've sent texts that I never could have imagined myself texting. Late on a Tuesday night, I'm reading in the living room and two tiny mice start scampering like many small children hyped up on sugar and caffeine.

I wanna freak out, cuz mice are disgusting and in all honesty they cause my heart to go into rapid speed. But I know that I've got to buck up!! So I send this text to My Joey knowing that He's probably in some deep spiritual conversation at His pastoral staff meeting thing...

But we all know I needed a little reinforcement. And He replies with this text...

For Christmas this year Joey got Siah a BB gun. I know where it is but I have no idea how to use it. I guess sometimes in life you simply have to figure things out. I get the gun from it's secret location and I follow each step in the text. Then I camp out on the top of the couch and let my eyes scan the room for those two little rascals running around. I shoot under the couch a couple times, but miss.

By now, I'm a bit freaked out, because I know full well that they're there but I just can't see them. So I retreat to my room, hoping to find safety. I'm all tucked in and about to turn out the light when I look over at the baseboard right next to the floor heater and there staring me straight in the eye is one of the culprits and of course the gun is back in it's hiding spot.

I got out of bed, retrieved the gun and parked myself back on the couch... gun aimed and ready.

I never did actually kill one of the mice.

And I never imagined that there would ever be a day when My Joey would come home and find his city-slicker wife camped out on the couch armed for the complete destruction of the field mice invading the farmhouse.

I couldn't catch the mice... But he could.

**********

Another weekend comes to pass and the whole fam goes out to work in the yard, do some mowing, some weed-wacking, the kids move rocks, and the Mama pulls the weeds out of the flower beds around the house.

Low and behold, Papa comes upon a snake. He chops it's head off with the garden shovel, digs a hole, buries it, and gets back to work. Five seconds later, another snake, another death,another hole dug. On snake #5 I give myself a pep talk... "You need to go over there Kac... You've got to get brave... This is your life... "

So Joey lifts up another brick and out slithers the snake. Siah's standing next to me, assuring me that he's not scared... "there's nothing to be afraid of Mom... I'm not scared." Sure he's not scared? The snake slithers out from under Papa's boot and starts heading our way. My "not scared" Siah starts running towards the house screaming! I so badly want to do the same but I need to help my kiddos get over this fear (what am I saying, I need to help myself get over this fear!), so I simply back up and get out of the snakes way. By this point Joey's got the disgusting thing under his boot again and chops it right in half with the shovel!

How did I get here?? I mean seriously.

This Farm of ours, it was meant for many things. And right about now, I'm thinking that one of those things, just might be meant to make a Mama brave.

Who knows...

Maybe if I had had my bright orange, rubber kitchen gloves on, I just might of picked that snake up... :)

I Wanna Remember

Today I just want to remember.

I wanna remember her spaghetti stained faced, her crazy hair, her white dress and her pouty face. I wanna remember how free she is the be all a fluster... How her arms crossed and her lip went out the moment that I told her we were going to take a picture. I wanna remember how when I speak to her kindly and give her an (obvious) choice, she turns on a dime from grouch to giggles. I wanna remember how her and I feel exactly the same when we wake up from long afternoon naps... feelin like, for the sake of the rest of the family, we should probably just go right back to bed. I wanna remember how close she wanted to sit to me in the restaurant booth today, and the way she wraps her pudgy little arms around my neck and leans back, face full of smiles.

I wanna remember her. Her soft, sweet voice, the way she asks so politely. I wanna remember her pitch black eye lashes up against her snow white skin. I wanna remember her white dress and her brown boots and the love she has for twirling anytime, everywhere. I wanna remember the way she rested her hand on me today and practiced waiting so patiently as I spoke with a friend. I wanna remember her mouth open wide and her eyes bulging big as she lifted that waffle piled high in strawberries and whipped cream wondering how she might actually fit that thing into her mouth. I wanna remember the way she hasn't quite figured out how to give, the way she makes me things at church and then inevitably asks if she can keep them "in her room, where she can keep them safe."

I wanna remember how his length already towers up to my chest, how his long strong boy legs are always marked with remnants of boy wonder. I wanna remember him and how he lost his second tooth this Mother's Day. I wanna remember that again toothless grin, that sweet spirit of his that asked at the breakfast table why everyday wasn't Mother's Day, remember that when His Papa asked him what he loved about his Mama he said, "I love the way she loves me." I wanna remember the way he handed me that rose when I picked him up from his class... "Sorry I broke the top off Mom. It's still beautiful right?" I wanna remember his big brown eyes, and how he still likes to wrap his arms around my waist a couple times a day.

I wanna remember him and how his bright blue eyes can captivate you. I wanna remember how he woke up this morning with a mini mohawk and how I just left it alone cuz secretly I thought it was adorable. I wanna remember how in our mini-wanna-be photo shoot today, a snake started slithering towards us and how I got up on a stump to save myself and forgot poor little Jeddy sitting there helpless in the grass. I wanna remember how I got him in time and how his Papa proudly chopped the snakes head off and saved the day.

I wanna remember how it's practically impossible to get a perfect picture of the kids, but it's always possible to capture to real and raw life of my many small treasures... the pouty faces, the eyes squeezed tight to block out the sun, the stained dresses, the funny faces... it's all there... it's all real... it's all truly lovely.

I wanna remember that all Mama's are on the endless learning curve, remember that God uses kids to take us from being children ourselves into wiser womanhood. I wanna remember that although six years have already gone by, this is still only the beginning... The beginning of learning to be wise, the beginning of some of the greatest joys a Mama heart can ever experience.

I wanna remember today and how they all sat on the log in our yard and threw up their hands and shouted, "HAPPY MOTHER"S DAY!!!"... even if littlest girl said it with a pouty face.

Remember the privilege.

Remember the gift.

Remember the ways that they love so unconditionally.

Remember that this is only the beginning.

Happy Mother's Day! :)

Living Loved

There are six of us around her table on a Thursday. Six Bibles lay open on the wood. And she takes us through another chapter of First John.

He alone is the one who can make a woman wise. And she obeys His voice and opens her mouth with wisdom and we all sit there silently soaking up her words. But she knows that we can all know His Word the way she does, and she gently teaches, taking us verse by verse. We all share what we've found, ask questions of one another.

There's a verse towards the end of the chapter. I'm anxious all night to get there.

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." (4:18)

I trip over fear more than I would like to admit. Fear of the foolish things, like finding snakes in my bed. Fear of the loss, My Mama, My Joey, My treasures. And I wonder is it really possible that His love could scatter all my fear? Really?

And then it happens... one of the six. She's courageous and she lays her heart out on the table. She talks of finances, she talks of trusting the Lord. We talk of the Lord giving us everything we need. But then comes the hard but beautiful truth...

What happens on the day when we can't pay that utility bill? What happens on the day when the pantry is empty and so is the bank account. Where is God on that day? On those days does our fear become legit? How can perfect love truly cast out all fear when we're in a world where we've convinced ourselves that there are certain fears that are completely justified.

And then the wise woman, she says it... that hard, beautiful truth...

Our rest is not in what He provides, But in the way that He loves. His love is constant, never ceasing.

She's walked that road... the one where you're not sure where the bread might come from. She speaks from a life lived. She knows His love like the back of her hand... and she's fearless.

If we are truly living loved then that MIGHTY love, will scatter all of our fear.

It is true that He gives us all that we need... But is it not also true, that He alone is all that we need? He alone is enough. He AlONE is enough. If the whole world falls apart, we will still have His glorious love, never ceasing to make it's home in the depths of our souls.

Back at the the table, I'm thinking to myself... "But Lord, what about this? But what about that? No food for my kids? The loss of My Joey?" And she just keeps saying it... "Never forget the way that He loves."

There's a story I know of a mama with eight sons, her husband is off at war. Her children go to school on a foreign angels dime and there are seasons that go by where the wheat simply does not grow and she has no choice but to send her boys to bed hungry. And one afternoon an American missionary walks by her front door, and her and her boys are singing a joyful noise, smiles all around. The missionary asks her translator what they might be singing about there in the dirt, and the words change her heart for a lifetime... "Jesus is all that I need." This Mama and her eight sons, sing it with joy, live it with joy. This Mama and her eight sons, are there in the dirt, living loved.

I must find a way to do the same. Oh how I want to live loved.

Jesus is all that I need. No, really, that's it. Jesus.

May I never cease to count the ways He loves.

#335-370

Hair-ties found, sand in between my toes, treasures laughing with old friends, the sun setting over the ocean. 80 degress, the windows down, slowly cruising down the pacific coast, soaking up the familiar.

An afternoon at the park with Gramps. the way Granny’s makes clean laundry smell. Our oodles of bags and stuff taking over Granny and Gramps house. A spaghetti dinner around the table. Pictures of my treasures from my favorite picture taking friend. Granny teaching the treasures about Jesus while dying Easter eggs. Thyme in the Ranch, Beautiful flowers surrounding the Inn. A dear dear friend taking the treasures for the afternoon so I could actually have a conversation with another mama of six. Birthdays and weddings, an unexpected afternoon marriage retreat.

The sound of sausage sizzling on a Saturday morning. A boy piling toast high. A Papa scraping the eggs... A full day of yard work, working to restore this 100-year-old farm all of us together.

Tears and laughter all in a five minute conversation. Discovering more and more of His forgiveness. Family and friends who love on our treasures as much as we do. My first mother's day card 100% made by oldest son (paper cut out in the shape of a tea cup, when you open it it says, "Mom, you are tea-riffic!") LOVE IT! :)

Finally letting go of trying to get everyone out of the house with two matching socks. Sisters smiling in summer. The privilege of Motherhood. How's He's helping me to only speak words that are helpful for building them up. How's He's speaking wisdom into each of my moments with them. Learning to live loved, counting all the ways He loves, really believing that He is ALL that I need.

And the list can, and will, go on... For He never ceases to love. :)

His Grace Work

Him and I, we're dancing in the kitchen. The music filling the room proclaims the name of Jesus and his eyes and my eyes meet, stay connected for a handful of seconds. His fingers are wrapped tight around my thumb and I ask him out loud,

"Are you gonna grow to love that Jesus who loves you so??"

And he beams that stellar smile of his right back at me.

This one life...

These children...

This is Your work Lord.

And I am merely your servant.

May your glorious grace rain down on this home and may all these tiny souls fall hard after you. :)

The Hard, Life-Giving Work Of Forgiveness, A Quiet Farm Mama's Journey Through His Word, And Through This Life

Every family has it's stuff. Mine is no exception. Every generation carries the mess of the world, the pain of believing the lies of the enemy at one point or another during their days here on earth. Years have passed and memories have stacked up building a towering brick wall that brings division even in this tri-generational family of believers. We all serve the body but the hurt and the pain has become an excuse for us to stop speaking to one another. Where is God in all of this mess? And why are the walls still so high, and how can this generation, my generation, the six people under my roof, learn a new way... His way?

How does the Lord forgive? When He looks down at us covered in scarlet, watches us as we choose the dung over Him, daily, hourly, how is it that He decides whether or not to offer forgiveness? Is it when we are clean enough? Is it when we finally break down and find ourselves spewing out the laundry list of specific ways that we have sinned against Him... is that when He finally finds it in Him to offer us His perfect forgiveness?

I've been thinking about it nearly day and night for weeks now. I've been searching the Word, my eyes scanning the pages in search for His example. And the most amazing thing has been happening in my soul. Because if you've ever searched for forgiveness, if you've ever wanted to really truly know the depths of Christ's undeserved love for the nations, His indescribable love for His sin-stained, broken, messy children who even on their best days are nothing more than dirt, then you would be blown away by not only what He asks of us, but even more so by what He offers us. Christ's kingdom is the upside down way, polar opposite of this world that surrounds us and sometimes swallows us up, trapping us in the lies of self. The enemy says, "protect yourself, guard your heart, only allow your soul to get hurt X amount of times, then just shut down... it's the safest way to live a life." The Lord says, "Love extravagantly! And not for even an ounce of your own gain, but for the opposite, to Give EVERYTHING of yourselves." Ephesians 5 (MSG).

In an exchange of emails, one that I love and I write back and forth about pursuit and whether or not we need to pursue those who have hurt us... whether or not Christ would pursue us in our own mess? And I keep coming back to the same verse, "WHILE WE WERE YET SINNERS, Christ died for us." It doesn't strike her in the same way that it strikes me. I'm at a loss for words, unable to explain the depths of undeserved grace that that one little verse offers. But to me that one line says it all when we find ourselves wondering what it means to forgive. The Lord Himself did not wait for us to seek Him out and wait to hear us confess the specific ways that we have hurt him throughout this one life that we've been given before He was willing to give EVERYTHING of Himself to us. EVERYTHING, His entire being, His very last breath... for what? For dust. He pursues us in our crud... IN OUR CRUD.

But lucky for us forgiveness and grace, and how we might learn to love the way that He loves is ALL over His Word, not just in that one little verse that strikes me so.

This past Sunday at church. We open our Bibles to Hosea, and the pages surprise me and I'm not sure why... because don't these words fall suit with the rest of His Word? Is it really all that surprising that God asks Hosea to marry an unfaithful woman? The same God who writes in the sand and with a handful of words, gives the verdict of life to an adulteress woman who's on the verge of being stoned by a determined mob. The same God who's ultimate rescue plan for His lost children involves the horrific death of His one and ONLY Son... the greatest gift given, all to offer hope to the nastiest of sinners.

And when Hosea's wife leaves and gives of herself again to other men, the story goes... "The LORD said to me, “Go, show your love to your wife again, though she is loved by another man and is an adulteress. Love her as the LORD loves the Israelites, though they turn to other gods and love the sacred raisin cakes." (Hosea 3)

TO literally go down to the street corner, pick up his bride, knowing FULL well that she is involved with a handful of men, take her home, and LOVE HER! LOVE HER! How? How is this possible? How does God expect Hosea to love a woman who wears her sin all over sleeve. Out of all the women that GOd could have picked for Hosea, is this really the one?

YES!

Why?

Because the story of Hosea and Gomer, is really the story of The Lord and us. Yes, it is undeniably hard to swallow... But the brutal, honest truth is that we are Gomer... ALL of us... each member of my family, me chief... and each member of every family. Can I hear that? Can I really hear that I am the prostitute? I am the one on the street corner and He is the one who is coming after me in the absolute THICKEST part of my sin, and He's taking me home, and He's purposely choosing to love me. That one truth is both devastating and life-giving, all in one breath. It's so incredibly hard for me to grasp that my sin is the same as the murder, the adulteress... exactly the same.

How could THe Lord have asked Hosea to go get his wife off the street corner?

Because fortunately for us, He doesn't love the way the world loves. He doesn't quit when things get hard. He doesn't run the other way when our darkness gets brought into the light. Instead, He takes our blood stained hands and out of His complete and utter selfLESSness, He trudges through the muck and cleanses us into pure white. And by the way that He lives, He teaches us to love. ANd by the way that He loves, He teaches us to forgive.

Because the Lord directs our lives for His glory, not our own. He sees the bigger picture. He knows that it's His kindness that leads hearts to repentance. He knows that we love only because He first loved us. He's an advocate for obedience even when we lack understanding. He lifts HIGH the humble hearts. Nearly everything the world suggests or promotes when it comes to how we should love is clashes with the way that the Lord defines love.

What then? Does that mean that He lacks justice? By no means. But justice is His and His alone. (Romans 12:19) Not ours. His call on our lives is love, simply love. More specifically, to love even our enimies. (Luke 6:35) Can this really be true? It's so contrary to this world, to everything we hear, to most of the counsel that we receive, even from those who are professing Christ followers.

Later in the book of Luke Christ tells another parable about two men who could not pay back their debt. One had a small amount of debt, the other a large amount... "Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?" (Luke 7:42) Could it be then, that greater we forgive, the greater we display His splendor through the lens of love?

We have got to learn how to love. God is love, so in my mind, His example must be the best one to follow. And the way that He loved was with His life.

Even later in the book of Luke, Jesus tells 3 more parables of three things lost; a sheep, a coin, and a son.

Most know the story of the son... How he left and squandered everything that his Father had given him. And in the end of the whole fiasco the most unlikely picture of grace... The son goes off and spends years making foolish decisions until one day he hits rock bottom and returns home...

"But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him."

Did you catch it? The Father looks up and sees his son coming down the road, and completely contrary to what any middle-eastern man of his day would have done, he dropped everything, and he RAN to his son. He didn't stand in front of his house waiting for a list of apologies. He didn't meet his son on the road and recant all the ways that the son had sinned against him over the years. In this parable, I see the Father's humble, gracious heart, pouring out forgiveness on his broken lost son.

Isn't this the story of all man kind?

If we could only see each other for who we all really are, dust, would that change anything? Could that one truth change everything? If we truly truly saw each other's faults, mistakes, short-comings as a description of ourselves, would it be any easier to offer one another the same deeply undeserved, yet joyfully received grace to one another that Christ Himself offers us... Him knowing perfectly well the grossness of our hearts, the embarrassing truth that He chose well known adulterers to be His bride? He knew we would lie, cheat and steal... even so, He made us, He chose us! He CHOSE US! He's not embarrassed by us. He sees us for what we are, nothing more than a broken speck, and then He rains down a flood of compassion on us, knowing full well that we will only have life if we find it in Him.

Is it not true, that those closest to us, the ones that we love most, are the ones that are sometimes hardest for us to love. For with deep love, often comes deep pain. But we want a world full of love without the pain. The irony is that we can never really know love until we've gone through the pain. Not staying stuck in the pain, but muddling our way through the pain with the moment by moment help of the Holy Spirit.

And it is easier and often times more comfortable for us to stay in the pain than it is for us to offer grace and go down the long , often rocky road of restoration. But He did it... He went down that road for us, for His adulterous wife. He did it knowing full well that those for whom He died would smack Him in the face and leave long hurtful messages on His phone, ripping deep into His heart, breaking Him all to pieces. He knew, and He gave everything anyway. He passionately pursued. He loved fervently. He lived sacrificially. There it is again... that one liner... "While we were yet sinners."

We've got to find a way to push through. We've got to find a way to refuse to believe the world and determine to believe Christ when He says that we are to forgive seventy times seven. He would not ask if He could not promise to deliver.

If we claim that we love Him, if we claim that his sacrificial gift of Christ on Cross is our everything then we must learn to live like Him, breathing grace in and out, whether deserved or undeserved... because, truth be told, we are all undeserved. Was Jesus not pained by those He loved? And in that pain, did He shun or did He give ALL of himself? " On the wood, He said, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do." Again, He knows what we are. We in turn need to know who we are. When we come to a place where we are truly aware of our own sin, our own ugliness, then, and only then, can we get to the place where we truly truly know the depths of His grace. Is it possible for us to offer that undeserved grace to those who have pained us? He doesn't ask anything of us that He Himself has not shown by example.

*********

So where do we start? When everyone living on our family trees are broken and pained by the memories and the words of years past lived, how can the damaged tree be brought back to life?

I have a few thoughts...

I can begin by seeing myself and others for what we really are, dust. We are all going to fail one another over and over again. It's a given in this life. If all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, then I must grow to accept that sin is a part of this life, and I can combat it with the giving of forgiveness and grace, or I can choose to spend my life defending my own pride, rattling of the skimpy lists of things that I think I might have done right as a defense mechanism for protecting my broken heart. But the truth is that the latter will only keep me stuck in the pain. At least in the former their is hope for restoration and true, joy-filled life. :)

Then I can remember that in my own ugliness, Christ offers me this indescribable grace. It's wild! And so incredibly life-giving. If I so choose, I have the privilege of offering that same grace to others. If I really, truly, in the deepest parts of my heart, KNOW, the grace that I have been given, the bucket loads of forgiveness that He has generously lavished on me, I will want to offer it to others... freely, daily.

Let down that guard, and let Christ into those broken places. As I step out and offer forgiveness, He is able to begin the life long process of restoration. I might never know how the spewing of Life-giving words might actually GIVE life, even and especially if I'm offering them to the very person who has wronged me... all the more reason to give the kindest of words away.

And finally I can remember that when I find myself standing before the Lord in that final judgement, He will not give me even ONE moment to talk about or blame others. The only person that He will be asking me about is myself, the choices I made, the way that I chose to love, the way that I chose to forgive.

I'm going to be brutally honest here. If Christ forgave me, the way that I have been "forgiving" others all these years of my life, I would not want to be a Christ follower.

Shutting of communication and blaming the other person for my silence. Really I'm just ignoring, simply because the pain is seemingly to deep. But no one ever told me. No one ever took me through the scriptures and poured the life-giving truth that the Lord forgives completely contrary to the world. You would think that I would have figured it out after sitting in church every Sunday for nearly twenty years now. But I guess forgiveness is just one of those topics that cuts so deep that people don't want to spend time talking about it... better yet spur one another on towards actually living it. And because we are trying to forgive the way that the world forgives, us Christians are dying inside because our families and relationships look just like the world's and we're at a complete loss as to why. But the reason is written all over the pages of His Word. The reason we're dying is because we don't want to do the hard work of living. Christ calls us into the hard, life-giving work of forgiving even the biggest of jerk-faces. It is work! It is Hard! But the benefits are beyond compare!

Thank God He does not forgive as I do! Thank God, He goes out of His way to love on me. Thank God His kindness humbles me and makes me want to be more like Him. Thank God when He forgives that He declares that my sins are as far as the east is from the west, and unlike any human I know, He actually means it. Thank God that when I have hurt Him with my words or with my actions He still chooses to come after me, to speak His great love into me, to restore me to himself.

I am by no means an expert on the Bible. I don't claim to be some great Bible teacher. But I'm confident, with ALL OF MY HEART, that all over His Word, He pursues, He undeservedly forgives, & He loves in action and in truth.

Can I learn to do the hard work of forgiving the wounds of a broken past, wounds as close as yesterday? Can I choose life giving words and offer them to those who have pained this heart of mine? If I have been crucified with Him, then it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me. The life that I NOW live in the body, I live by FAITH in the Son of God who loved me, and GAVE himself up for me. (Galatians 2:20) With Him in me, the answer is YES!

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Some resources that have been captivating my heart on the topic of forgiveness...

The Work of All Children: How To Forgive Our Parents An article at In Courage by Ann Voscamp

Parenting With Hope In The Worst Of Times A sermon by John Piper on first being aware of our own need for Christ, our own ugliness, our own sin, as a means to powerful, meaning parenting.

1000 Gifts, A Dare To Live Fully RIght Where You Are This whole book has made me look at each of my moments in a whole new light. It is the best book, besides, the Bible, that I have read, ever, period! Yes, for me, it is that good! :)

A Message about Hosea A message of Christ's Restoration on a Sunday. :)