Somewhere Between Donuts and Blueberries

I wrote this last year, wishing I had a blog to post it. It’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy and are encouraged. Miracles happen and we are forever changed by them. My miracle celebrated his 5th birthday today and my tender mama heart loved celebrating all day long. 

Evan’s birth story

The best part of telling a story is getting to remember details that you haven’t thought of in a while, and seeing God work in them – His grace and mercy in those moments . Our lives change in those details though we don’t usually realize it until we are looking back to recall, recount and reflect. In the recounting we share the facts, and in it the truth of the situation and of what God did. And we are reminded all over again of the good things God has done and why our lives changed because of that story. In the retelling my faith is renewed and I’m in awe of God’s amazing attention to detail all over again. 

Friday, January 13, 2012

37 weeks & 2 days pregnant

My alarm went off at 7 am and I knew right away something wasn’t right. After a quick trip to the rest room I called for Gunnar and he ran in.

Blood. So much blood. 

I called labor and delivery and told them. They said to come straight in and if I didn’t have someone to drive me to call 911.
“When did I last shower? I should probably shower before I go have a baby. But they mentioned 911 so maybe pass on that.”

As Gunn got our bag in the car and I found a phone charger to throw in my purse I heated a bagel then got in the car. 

As we started driving I thought about an emergency c-section. “I shouldn’t eat.” I gave it to Gunn.  

It was 7:27 or 37 when we left the house. Friday morning we had 18 miles to Kaiser Anaheim. And those 18 miles were on the 71 south and the 91 west. Instead of worry about the inevitable traffic we would encounter I decided to do my daily morning prayer journal and read my Bible. 

As I was writing I was thankful that the 71-91 interchange was not congested and we actually made it onto the 91 in good time. But now there was some slowing. I asked God to help me not worry about the traffic. I asked him to keep me calm and help me trust that he loved this little boy and knew everything about him. He was God’s, he always had been and always will be. If we have him for a day or a month or a year or a life time, or just in utero, he is God’s and I am God’s. We’ll be ok. 

My mom’s first pregnancy was a stillborn boy at 6 months. My parents left the hospital as first time parents with no baby. It was tragic. But they relied on Jesus and each other and their faith was stronger for it. I knew from the beginning that a pregnancy does not guarantee a baby. Miscarriage had been one of my biggest fears. Especially since I had spotted early on and they found two sacs but only one baby. We had no other complications, but it was always in the back of my mind. 

Gunn and I had been reading in Ecclesiates, a chapter a day. That day was chapter 11. 

Ecclesiastes 11:5 “As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.”

It was so comforting. It didn’t say “your baby is ok” or “everything is going to be alright,” but God spoke straight to my heart. “I see, I know, you don’t know what I know. You don’t know how this will end, but I do. I made you and I love you. I made this baby and I love him. No matter what happens you and Gunnar have me and I’m enough, you’ll be ok.” That was enough. 

I breathed deep and thanked God and thought, “well at least I feel baby moving, that’s a good sign. Or was that a contraction?” I had no idea. 

We made it to the hospital in 28 minutes. TWENTY-EIGHT MINUTES! ON THE 91 WEST on a FRIDAY! 

We had already pre registered so we went straight into triage. They had difficulty finding the baby’s heart rate, but at my appointment the day before it was the lower right so as they made their way around – upper right, upper left, lower left lower right, I tried to keep calm and remember that I didn’t need to worry. 

They finally found it and strapped on the monitors. 

With in 5 minutes 3 other nurses rushed in and looked at the the screen, readjusted the monitors and started talking in hushed tones. 

“Put her in room [blah, blah, blah] it’s right across from OR 1.”

They let me know that I was indeed staying that the doctor would probably get me on pitocin and get things going. 

They wheeled me to the new room and started prepping me. I could feel the profuse bleeding. There were people moving in and out and two different doctors came in to check. They couldn’t secure an internal monitor. Childbirth is the grossest, most stressful thing I have experienced in my life and yet, somehow I was still calm and not afraid. 

I made sure to let them know if at any point they thought there would be a c-section then please, by all means, let us have a c-section. 

Weeks earlier I had actually asked my ObGyn if we could just schedule a c-sections to begin with. I am not a fan of pain and I’m even less a fan of the unknown and I was so scared of labor and delivery. I had had a couple surgeries and actually really enjoyed the amazing naps I got during them so I was just totally fine with the idea. My doctor was not and had informed me that even though she could see my reasoning they don’t do that and I would indeed need to at least try. 

Within 5 minutes the baby’s heart rate had plummeted for the third time and I signed the line for an emergency c-section. 

Gunn and I kissed and said I love you and off I went. 

The rest of the day really should be written by Gunn. Besides the catheter they inserted while the anesthesiologist introduced her self, I don’t really remember much more. 

People. There were a lot of people in the room and super bright lights and I was more exposed than ever and was hoping for the medicine to kick in quick so I could sleep, and…take…a…good n..a..p.

Chapstick. All I wanted was Chapstick. My lips were so dry and I just needed some Chapstick so I could go back to sleep. 

Recovery. Gunnar was there. I think. My mom? Yeah, that’s still super fuzzy. They kept insisting I wake up. Mmm, nope. More sleep. 
My room. Gunnar, mom, dad. I couldn’t keep my eyes open for more that three minutes at a time. 

I remember they said Evan was in the NICU. Downstairs. I know Gunn showed me a picture. So many wires. A cpap on his face. 
He had lost a lot of blood. He needed some help. A blood transfusion and a platelet transfusion. 

I might have been sad about not seeing him but I could barely stay awake to listen to Gunnar. I would read a text and start a response but fall asleep 3 words in. Apparently Gunn just took my phone and started responding for me. 

My baby was born (at 9:02 am, 5lbs 10oz, 19.5 in) and he was alive. God said He would be enough and take care of us. I just kept resting in that, figuratively and literally.

“Just a few more bites, then you can be done.”

I have said this phrase hundreds of times and my oldest isn’t even 5 years old. I know I’m no gourmet cook, but I also know the food I put on the table is edible and mostly tasty. More importantly, it’s what he needs to live. And because I want him to live a healthy, beautiful life we do it again and again, 3 times a day, every day.

Why is it so hard to like what’s healthy? Why do I love donuts and hate kale? I’m sure there are scientific answers but I believe there are spiritual ones as well.

I had no real concept of nutrition until my sophomore year of college when I took a sports nutrition class. Before that I knew only what experience taught me. I knew that my mom made me eat fruit daily and didn’t like us to eat candy or sweets and that we had to eat all the salad at dinner before we ate the rest. I knew that since ditching her rules and eating at the campus dining hall I had gained roughly 10 lbs and should probably stop having the soft service ice cream every night on my way out the door. I knew these things, but didn’t understand the why until that class taught me all about proteins, carbohydrates and fats. It wasn’t until I understood metabolic rates and muscle glycogen that my weight gain and food choices became a lot more important in my mind.

We only know what we’ve learned and until we are taught more it is difficult to want to change, much less do it.

Once I learned the physiological why to food choices (caloric intake) and exercise (caloric output) it was much easier to say no to ice cream and yes to vegetables.

The same is true with the word of God. We know we ought to read it. We should know what it says. But until we do we are left only with what we’ve been taught – be it by church or family or culture. Often our experience with the Bible will shape our view of it.

I am so thankful that I had a mom who not only insisted on fruits and vegetables but also a healthy diet of scripture reading and daily devotions. My parents both modeled daily Bible reading and also encouraged us to do it. I didn’t do it regularly until college, around the same time as that nutrition class, interestingly enough.

I grew up knowing it was good for me but not really feeding it to myself. Praise God for His Spirit drawing me in and awakening me to the truth of His word.

“My son, keep your father’s commandment,
and forsake not your mother’s teaching.
Bind them on your heart always;
tie them around your neck.

When you walk, they will lead you;
when you lie down, they will watch over you;
and when you awake, they will talk with you.
For the commandment is a lamp and the teaching a light,
and the reproofs of discipline are the way of life,”

Proverbs 6:20-23

If the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge and from the Lord comes wisdom and understanding then I want to know these words, I want to live by these truths. The only way to do that is to first learn them, then apply them – to hear and receive and to humbly ask God to transform us by them.

When reading Proverbs 6 this week I was struck in two ways, as a child of God and as a mother. First as His daughter I read the words and received the instruction God gives to hear and keep them close. It’s an active part we must take. And it was followed with a promise, that His words and wisdom will lead us as we walk, go to sleep and wake up. He claims that these very words will guide us in life as both a lamp and a light as we walk with Him. The way of life itself is set by the teaching, correction and discipline He offers. He is a loving God, a loving Father, who wants to teach us what is best.

And it is His very heart that compels me, as a mother, to heed these words so that I can model and teach them. I hope and pray my boys will develop a love and hunger for the word of God for I know there is life there. As they see Jesus, learn the character of God and interact with the Holy Spirit in these words and in their lives they will be blessed. As they obey and adore God they will have abundant life. But just like leafy greens, it’s not always appealing. So I will strive to serve them a healthy portion of God’s word, I will model it in hopes that one day they too will taste and see the goodness of the Lord. I pray that they discover that just like correctly roasted brussel sprouts or asparagus in a sun-dried tomato alfredo sauce are scrumptious and easy to eat, that the word of God is also delightfully palatable and incredibly satisfying. And really Jesus is the bread of life, can anything be more delicious than bread!? Well, perhaps a donut.

PS this post reminded me of funny meme I saw a while back. 

Have you ever known something because you were told and taught it, but then you experience it and just like that the head knowledge becomes experiential and you realize your hardly knew what you thought you knew all along?

I grew up hearing a lot of things about God and the Bible and I believed them to be true. And sometimes, because I haven’t experienced it or find my self struggling with a concept or command I catch myself questioning if I really understand what’s being said.  

A couple of months when I was writing about growing like blueberries and understanding pruning in a new and comforting way John 15 made me consider “abiding” and reflect on how I am currently doing. 

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.” John 15:9-11 (ESV)

The call to abide in God’s love caused me to evaluate my life in light of that command. 

What is abiding? How do we do it? What does it look like? How can I do it better? And how do you abide with someone you can’t even see?

I was instantly reminded of Gunnar and when we were dating. 

We met at Fresno State in spring 2005. I was finishing my last semester of undergrad and had already applied for grad school at San Diego State. He was in his third year of school and knew he had two more since he had two years of eligibility left for golf. We met at Fellowship of Christian Athletes, he was the president of the club and I was just going so my friend would stop asking. But once there I really enjoyed the study and was really impressed by the handsome leader. I started to hang out with the group more and was seeing Gunn all over campus. 

A month later we had dinner just the two of us since everyone else bailed one night then went to a local church Bible study. On the way home I thanked him for a lovely evening, asked him not to make a habit of buying my dinner and dropped a bunch of hints about moving and not needing a guy. Bless his persistent heart for not heeding any of it. 

We started dating in March knowing July meant long distance for two years. It was so much harder than I imagined! Saying good bye, moving to a new city while he got to continue life in Fresno. 

That first year in San Diego was hard. I volunteered to quit often. I was home sick and not even sure for which home. My parents’? Fresno? With Gunnar?

It was lonely. I worked 40-60 hrs a week, I was going to school and traveling with various teams as the athletic trainer. 
I had found a church that I could attend fairly regularly when I wasn’t traveling, but I wasn’t exactly making friends. 

I felt like Jesus and Gunn were my only friends and neither of them could give me the hug I so desperately wanted. 

I praise God for the new technology of texting that had recently started!
As the new school year started we started a routine of texting in the morning. Texting through out the day and maybe a phone call if we both had a few minutes at lunch. Maybe some more texting in the afternoon and then the first one ready for bed would call the other to check in, talk about day, what we read in the Bible that day, the plans for the next day. We would have a chance to talk through issues or miscommunications that happened that day and then we ended the night with prayer, where I would usually fall asleep and Gunn would call back just to say Amen.

In the first year of this we got to learn so much about each other. We talked about anything and everything. It was a time to learn each other- preferences, habits, communication and conflict style. 

The first year was tough, but as it ended it was clear that God had grown us in amazing ways; in our faith and in our relationship and communication. We asked each other a bunch a questions and wanted to hear the other’s opinion and feedback on just about everything. Did I mention I got a card in the mail every Tuesday from Gunnar? A note telling me how wonderful he thought I was, and how much he couldn’t wait to see me. It was the best!!!!

The next year was significantly easier. We got engaged that summer and the count down to not only see each other regularly but get married and BE TOGETHER began. 

Long distance was still hard but we got to learn more about ourselves and each other. We learned to anticipate each other’s needs and preferences. We got to be each other’s biggest fans and learn to say I’m sorry more often. We looked forward to every visit and every letter and every call and text. The anticipation was huge and exciting. 

That two year time was a tangible picture of what it looks like to abide. To draw near and learn, to know and love. 

I love that Jesus Christ came to earth and lived a perfect life that led many people to be interested in him. He died, rose and then went to heaven and there began the longest long distance relationship in the history of man kind. 

What does it look like for God’s people to abide? To pursue closeness, to communicate often, to learn God’s character and preferences. To ask His opinion and live for His best. To lay down your preference for the one you love. Knowing that His best is ultimately the best for me. 

Just like Gunn and I had June 23, 2007 to look forward to we have the wedding feast of Jesus and his bride, The Church, to look to with anticipation. No more long distance, no more misunderstandings or miscommunication, but real intimacy and closeness. 

As we wait we must be engaged in constant communication. Little conversations here and there, lengthy dialogue with God about things that matter. Getting to know his character, his preferences, his habits and communication style. Right now we have the opportunity to know and be known by him. He has written us letters! There is love, wisdom, truth and strength to be drawn as we meet Him in His word. 

And better than any earthly relationship we have his Holy Spirit in us. Meeting us where we are, speaking to us and empowering us to live a life of love. He tells us that it is by keeping his commands that we remain in his love and that is where our joy is made complete. 

So where am I? How am I doing at abiding? These are sometimes hard questions to ask when you know you are not thrilled about the answer. 

I am making daily time to communicate with Jesus, but it is often rushed and distracted. I am reading his word daily, but I’m not always putting forth the effort to understand it and apply it. 

Praise God that he is a God who changes hearts which then changes action. In him is forgiveness and restoration, always. I love that He offers us himself in every way. And the only thing we have to do is humble ourselves to say we want and need more. To repent of the distance we create and to re-engage in intimate communication. 

So as we live to make these truths realities in our lives may we continue to seek Jesus, to know him better as we wait for him to come and may we abide in his love, knowing that in it our joy will be complete. 

There are a lot of benefits of marrying into a farming family. First, it’s the fruits of their labor. I have eaten some of the best fruit in the world, blueberries especially. I have learned about different varieties and seasons and harvest schedules. I’ve learned about soil acidity and the importance of water and the necessity of pruning and training the plant.

I love learning these things because I am part of this family so I want to know and care like the rest.

As a Southern California kid removed from the world of agriculture (AG) I didn’t grow up with much thought as to where my food came from and I certainly didn’t appreciate the love and care that goes into it.

I am thankful that we got to learn by immersion when we moved to the Central Valley and Gunnar started working for his family.  My favorite part was the blueberry plants he got for our back yard- three little “snow chaser” plants. They lived in pots for a bit at first and then in the fall he planted them. That spring I was so excited to see the little flowers. Gunn explained that those sweet blooms would be where they would set fruit. You could imagine my shock and disappointment when he took them off! What the!?!?! How can I eat blueberries if you just killed their opportunity to even grow? 

Gunn said the first year they’re planted you have to strip the blooms so that the plant won’t put energy into growing fruit, but growing it’s root system as well as it’s branches and leaves. It made sense, but I didn’t like it. There was some pruning and there was work done to make sure there were not stray branches growing laterally but strong canes going up.

The next year he thinned the blooms, but let me have some fruit and oh my goodness was it awesome. Fresh blueberries right on the plant in my backyard. It wasn’t even enough for a decent cobbler but it was good for an occasional snack or to sprinkle over a bowl of vanilla ice cream, (which you should totally try).

Year three there was finally a sweet pay day! All the waiting and watering, training and pruning literally came to fruition. Those pretty little blooms, tons of them, set fruit. Little green berries grew and changed color and we got lots of ripe delicious blueberries. For the month of their harvest window we ate blueberries whenever we wanted and it it was amazing. But the most beautiful part of it was that I saw that ran a pretty similar parallel to my life.

When we moved to Visalia, we were transplanted and it was traumatic in a way. All the friendships and relationships we left were severed to an extent. Thank the Lord for technology and face time and social media to stay virtually connected. But here we were starting life all over again. It felt a bit bare and scarce emotionally and relationally. We started meeting new people, and we worked hard at this new life. Gunn and I were new parents living in a new city and we were having to set a new foundation for our home. We went deeper into God and with each other, and I see now that we were needing to put our energy into these new roots!

That next year we got to enjoy more external blessing. We bought a home. We were growing closer to the friends we made in year one. We were getting more involved in our church and in our community. It was not the involvement and intimacy we had in So Cal, but it was getting there. There was some fruit so to speak, and we enjoyed it wholeheartedly!

By year three we were feeling at home and healthy. We had another son, we felt settled and secure in so many places of our lives – family, work, community. It felt like a harvest of sorts as we were enjoying the fruits of our labor. It was such a blessing and so very sweet. And then something crazy happened. It felt like all the sudden there was some more pruning!

What the what?!?!?

Gunn started school, my closest friend moved to Scotland, we had to pull back from so many of the friendships, commitments and other things we loved. We had to reevaluate our lives and it was a little uncomfortable.

I am so thankful for the word of God that gives truth and perspective. I love that he offers us his Spirit to be our helper and comforter. As we were (and continue still) adjusting in this season of reevaluation I was reminded of John 15:1-2 where Jesus says “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.”

I understand he’s talking about grape vines not blueberries, but I love that sweet reminder that even good things will be pruned, not just for the sake of pruning but to bear more fruit.

John 15:4-5, goes on to say to, “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”

Dictionary.com defines abide as a verb and gives the following definitions:
1.      to remain; continue; stay:
2.      to have one’s abode; dwell; reside:

Oh how I want this!!

The passage continues and verses 7-9 say, “If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.”

No matter where we find ourselves in the process be it transplant, root growing, cane pushing or fruit producing the only work we really have to do is abide in the love of God. He’s the one who will do work that needs to be done.

I thought it was fascinating that as I asked Gunn about what pruning looks like on a mature plant he once again described my life. The mature canes will bear fruit for years, but then must be cut out to make room for new canes to grow and produce. The “canes” of my twenties look different from the “canes” now in my thirties. The fruitful places grow and change as life goes on.

As much as I hate change I love the hope in that. As I continue to abide in Christ I am promised that as a disciple I will bear much fruit. Though the season change, when the harvest window comes there will be sweet and beautiful fruit.

 I am so thankful for this life. It’s everything I never knew I always wanted. 
I wasn’t always sure I wanted to be married and have kids. But once I met Gunnar I was sure I wanted to be his wife and have his children. 

He is a good man. A great one even. He was the first guy I met that knew his Bible as well as my brother and tried to live it out. He not only loved Jesus, but lived his life to honor him. 

Gunn is smart and caring and good at just about everything he tries. He has many gifts and abilities but he doesn’t just settle for what’s easy and comes naturally he also works really hard too. He seriously strives for excellence in every task. He is a rare gem and I am so thankful he’s mine. 

I’m really proud to be his wife and I’m so thankful we get to be best friends. 

I’m also thankful that he sees the good in me and then cheers me on in those places. He’s a good encourager and is constantly supporting me. I think we’re a really good team. I think we compliment each other well and I know that our marriage is a gift. God has blessed us so abundantly and then also helped and equipped us to work hard at it and fight for unity and peace, because those things do not come easy. 

A couple weeks ago we got to team up to share our lives and our motivation in work. It was such a pleasure and an honor. I was proud to watch him teach the Bible and hear the wisdom that God spoke through him. And then I got up to share and I felt like Gunn was both my strongest supporter and beaming teammate. I loved that He stood by me because he knew I was nervous but stayed back just a bit as if to say, “I’m here if you need me, and I’ll just admire you as you shine.” Seriously, this man is a gift from the great Giver of good things. 

If you haven’t heard it yet, then please, have a listen and be encouraged! 

http://subspla.sh/606896a

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my 4.5 years of parenthood, it’s that parenting is not nearly as easy as I thought it was before I had kids. 

I know God says he wants humility in his people, and I tried to live a humble life, sometimes I even felt like I was nailing it (super humble right?)! But man, oh man, nothing in life has humbled me like becoming a mom. Everything I have ever prided myself in has crashed hard in one way or another in the last 4.5 years and I’m sure there’s more to come and that is almost scary. 

I’m learning that God is faithful to build humility in us and we can either submit of our own accord, or through circumstances that might very well humiliate us, or maybe a fun combination of the two. Not because he’s a jerk and wants doormats for children but because He, being God, knows what’s best and will graciously guide us in that.

God used my sweet Evan to highlight this lesson last month. We were all set for a family outing to Lowes to pick up some outdoor furniture for our new house. The boys are usually great shoppers but five minutes in and I thought we should probably reschedule this date. Instead of listening to that wise intuition, we continued on. Fifteen minutes later I was carrying a flailing, raging 4 yr old out of the store and to the car. My mind was whirling with all the things this child deserved, none of which were good. It was only by the power of the Holy Spirit that I was able to get us to the car, him strapped in and me standing outside the running car with tears streaming down both our faces.

He had humiliated me on our way out. I’ll save you the details but be sure every person we passed seemed to look down as to not stare. He’s had these melt downs before, but not in public like this. And as I stood outside the car trying to compose myself I realized that I had always prided myself in knowing my child well enough to prevent these melt downs in public. We don’t go shopping when he’s tired, we always carry snacks for him, we prepare him by talking about expectations and what is and is not acceptable behavior before going into the store. We pray for thankful hearts and good attitudes.

Not only had I not done any of these that morning, but I also chose the opinions of others over the good of my son, and I cried for the hurt and failure of that.

Gunn had told Evan he could get a new shovel for gardening, and so he held it as he whined and complained about going home. I tried to tune out the whining and continued shopping. A few minutes later I had enough, took the shovel, returned it to it’s spot and started our walk of shame to the car. I didn’t want the people around us to think I was catering to a whiney brat, I wanted to make a point that I do not reward bad behavior.

I knew it would set him off into fight or flight. I knew we would likely have a melt down, but instead of choosing an avenue of communication to peaceful resolution I waged war in all the wrong ways. 

On the way home we talked about why he was so angry and why he lost control. God blessed him with lots of words and he was able to explain that Avery kept touching him and his shovel and it made him angry and I wasn’t listening to him and that he got confused and got angry at me because Avery was annoying him.

Selfishness, displaced anger, shouting and crying and doing everything he could to create distance. That describes me to God in so many ways. And unlike God who hears us and meets us, I had instead ignored him and then provoked him. 

He had a lot to apologize for, certainly, but I did too. As parents we get to be the most tangible example of God’s Father heart to our kids. And God often uses our kids to show us the things in our own hearts that we don’t usually see. I got to apologize to Evan and walk him through his apology to me. I got to tell him that I forgive him and that even when he makes bad choices and uses words that hurt me that I still love him. It was not easy because my hurt feelings still wanted distance, but I instead chose to pursue closeness because I really do want to love like Jesus. It was good for both our hearts.

There was forgiveness and restoration and reconciliation and it was sweet. As I continue to reflect on it I also see that lately I have made so many things work based for him, ie finish dinner then get a popsicle, clean your room then get a show, etc. And I think it’s built in both of us this frustration about having to earn, and failing to do so. It’s not like I make him earn everything, but it’s been too much and that shovel was supposed to be a gift from dad and I turned it into reward to be earned. It was just what the Judaizers in the New Testament tried to do with the Gentile Christians. Salvation is a gift but you also have to be circumcised and do these other things to really get it (Acts 15:1-11).

I am so thankful that, as Gunn often says, failure isn’t fatal and it isn’t final. God’s grace is always bigger than our failure and he’s not standing there ready to strike, but waiting to forgive and restore as soon as we humble ourselves and confess and repent. 

Parenthood is freaking hard, and I am sure God has so many more lessons for me. But I trust that like a good parent He gives me only so much at one time as to not completely overwhelm me. He will do what is necessary to build me up, to train and teach me in a way I can understand. I love that He gets down to my level and helps me all along the way. 

That afternoon, I asked Ev if he wanted to just hang out with me. I told him we needed to buy brother’s birthday gift. I asked him if he wanted a do over for shopping with a good attitude and a thankful heart. He said yes and we had an amazing afternoon, with donuts and Starbucks to top it off! Ah, sweet redemption!

So friends, be encouraged that our Good Father is doing good work in us and is using us to build his kingdom in the next generation!

Blessed be the Lord who daily bears us up. God is our salvation.” Psalm 68:19

I love that this is true. For the small things and the big.

Since I’m a great planner, I can also be a great worrier. What if things don’t go how I had envisioned? What might go wrong that might throw off my plan? So I often make a plan B and even plan C. It’s ridiculous, I know, but it’s me.

I love that God loves me. He made me. He made me a good planner and he loves me even in spite of the times I take this good gift and make it something stupid.

I find it very kind of God to save us. He saves us from our sins and saves us from big things, and I especially love the way he saves us from ourselves.

I feel that every so often God teaches me a lesson and I can learn to do a good job of walking in it. It’s only possible to change my ways because he changed my heart and mind. And for a while the hard lesson might even be easy, and then over time, I drift back. And so, in his goodness he teaches me the lesson all over again. You would think I would just get it together and stop drifting back, but these cycles are true for many parts of my life: planning, parenting, marriage, friendships, food, time, discipline, service, rest – there’s no way to have it all in order all the time. And so our good and gracious God addresses them as often as he sees fit. 

So, about planning. I have our family calendar on my fridge, an exercise calendar in the office, a meal plan for the week, and a calendar I keep on my phone so it’s accessible when I’m out. Things are often color coded and it makes me so happy when I reconcile them all once a week to make sure I’ve got everything covered.

But with all those plans there’s a lot that can be messed up and interrupted and ruined.  And that can lead to a lot of disappointment and frustration and sometimes anger towards the one that ruined said plan.

I used to think that the more I had planned in one day the better I was doing as a human. Maximizing my time on this earth. Getting stuff done and blessing the world with my presence! And so I would cram as much as I could into the day. If each moment of the day was accounted for the better the day was. I didn’t realize I was a chronic over committer who was getting weary and tired and a little resentful towards the people that didn’t seem to appreciate my precious time!

Blessed be the Lord who daily bears us up.  Through different cycles of this lesson I’ve learned that God cares about me and my plans, but that his plans are better than mine. And I learned that if I am going to love and serve him well that means I need to give him access and authority over my life and all the things I hold dear. That means that I need to submit my plans to him. It’s totally fine and good to make plans but I need to surrender them to him. 

“God here’s what I have planned and what I want to accomplish today. Is this cool with you? Give me the wisdom and energy I need to carry them out, and give me the grace and joy to be flexible. Let me see interruptions not as a bother but as an opportunity to worship you and trust that you have something else. Help me see if I’m planning stuff to feel valued and successful or because you actually want me to do it” 

I once heard that every interaction with a person is an opportunity to worship God.

 That means that every time my kids are making me late because they cant (won’t) find their shoes, I can choose patience, prayer and kind, gentle words over harsh words and loud grunting.

It means that when the baby sitter cancels or I catch the 8th red light in a row I can trust that God sees and knows this and I can acknowledge that He is still good and His plans are better than mine. I don’t need to cry and whine about lights or judge someone’s bad planning.

This means when I have to cancel on someone it’s not the end of the world; I am not a failure; my worth as a human has not diminished. It just means that I recongnize my inability to do it all and there’s humility to embrace and grace to receive.

When I submit my heart and life and calendar to God it changes my perspective so much. It helps me live with much more grace for the people around me, mostly my kids and husband, but even the jerk who cut me off on the road.  It helps me bless more often than curse .

And right now, as I’m re leaning this lesson, it’s helping me remember to seek God on the front end more often. Before I make the plan, send the text, place the call – to ask God, “Can I please plan this play date/invite them for dinner/go on that trip?”

He is willing and able to daily bear our burdens, so I need to be conscious of daily giving them to him. And in His goodness he will save me.