Category Archives: grief

if you’ve been walking on eggshells: a kindling post

Posted on by August 11, 2023

This photo of an omelette-in-progress is brought to you by strategic camera placement so as to avoid showing all the grungus on the stove top.

if you've been walking on eggshells: a kindling post

Is that okay, though? Showing a snapshot of one thing to conceal another? Or should I just zoom out and show you everything in the kitchen?

I think it’s okay to share snapshots as long as we’re honest about life. The internet isn’t a safe place to invite criticism because critics find so many flaws with honest expression, anyway.

Armchair quarterbacks online give advice to professional photographers about lighting, mistaking natural lighting for flash. People who claim to be Christian lecture, “You can’t ask God to make heaven on earth” even though He literally said Matthew 6:10. And of course, there are those who will ask why you hate and oppress chickens (or quail) by cooking eggs.

People are weird, man.

But most of us are at least a respectable, kind, sane level of weird.

So how do we share in peace? How do we express ourselves transparently in a way that protects us and still doesn’t compromise honesty by pretending to be something we’re not?

Because here’s the thing: Even that carefully angled photo of the omelette isn’t perfect. I can find plenty to critique — the eggs aren’t really whipped, there’s a lot of gross egg white, the green onions are clumped in places and not perfectly scattered.

But did any of you really care about that, if you even noticed? Probably not. You’re probably too busy being your own worst critic to notice the things I would criticize myself over.

Everyone has enough hard stuff to deal with. We don’t have to contribute to someone’s discouragement. We can be those who stoke flames of joy and enthusiasm and inspiration and humor rather than those who say, “Wellll, those quail will make a lot of poop. Yep, lots of poop, and butchering is no fun at all. I remember when [insert depressing story of chicken being prepared for dinner 70 years ago] and we’ll just see how you like having birds when that time comes.” (Actual conversation I’ve had.)

We don’t need that. There’s enough work to be done in front of each of us and enough bravery we’re each having to fight for to not waste time taking the dampers seriously. We will be stokers of joy, truth, and encouragement instead.

No, it’s not all sunshine and roses, and yes, speaking truth in love isn’t always warm and fuzzy. But we can protect an atmosphere of transparency by not covering everyone’s light with a wet blanket.

We have to keep the fire going. How else will we have enough heat to cook omelettes with?

A fool takes no pleasure in understanding,

but only in expressing his opinion.

The words of a man’s mouth are deep waters;

the fountain of wisdom is a bubbling brook.

— Proverbs 18:2&4

But also, unless it’s obvious (like the weirdo on the internet), we shouldn’t assume others are judging or criticizing us, either.

For example, that person who seemed annoyed with you probably wasn’t. The person who looked at you funny wasn’t judging you. The person who answered you with a short tone of voice wasn’t angry at you.

They probably had other things on their mind: pain, or distraction, or stress, or insecurities, or memories of trauma. Their response was not about you; it had nothing to do with you…except that the Lord trusted you to be in the other end of their response so you would pray for them.

So pray for them.

Call out the gold and intercede for their healing and victory, and make the experience mean something. You get to partner with God in destroying the works of the enemy. You’ll feel better, and the burden of the disturbing interaction will be lifted.

And one more thing, if you’ve been feeling stifled or kept small in the presence of others:

You don’t have to dismiss your feelings, grief, outrage, circumstances, etc, just because they don’t seem as big or important as someone else’s.

Don’t dismiss your progress that seems so much smaller than someone else’s, either.

Comparison will kill your love for God and your love for people.

When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?” Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!”

— John 21:21-22

One sunset does not look at the sunset from the night before and think, “Oh, I’m not really setting very well, my colors aren’t as bright as last night’s sunset.”

And today’s sunrise didn’t think, “Yesterday’s colors were so much more vibrant, I must not really be rising.”

Your experience stands on its own. Beloved, stop comparing it to those around you. Jesus knows and He sees, and you don’t have to prove anything. Moving through our situations is much smoother when we don’t complicate them with other people’s situations.

For what man knows the things of a man except the spirit of the man which is in him? Even so no one knows the things of God except the Spirit of God. Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might know the things that have been freely given to us by God.

— 1 Corinthians 2:11-12

Lord, give us wisdom with difficult people. And help us not to be difficult people.

We come against hair-splitting, nitpicking, determined-to-be-offended-ness in Jesus’ name. We come against the religious spirit that walks in fear and insecurity, and we ask for wisdom to know how to handle that kind of immaturity in others. If there’s any remnant of it in us, root it out of us.

Help us to walk in love, and to walk with good boundaries. We don’t have to correct everyone, especially strangers, and we don’t have to come under the condemnation of weirdos on the internet. We can let it go, and let You do the speaking. We will abide and wait for the right response, and trust You when the right response is to make no response.

Protect our families and our hearts this weekend. Thank You for healing, growth, and freedom.

Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.

— Romans 12:9-10

Here’s the printable download of this post:

if-youve-been-walking-on-eggshellsDownload

Looking for more posts like this? Kindling is a series of prophetic devotionals and encouragement to relight your fire in the places it’s gone out. They’re all right here. Or subscribe to get everything right to your inbox.

with book: introducing the one I always meant to write

Posted on by August 19, 2024

Long gone are the days when I would sit here, hitting these keys until 3 am. But not long gone – in fact, extremely present and frequently of late – are the hours of overtime on the couch after the kids are in bed.

with book: introducing the one I always meant to write

I have forgotten to eat dinner, left bowls of my beloved popcorn untouched, neglected normal writing schedules, and overlooked watering the garden. But this book is alllllmost done in spite of computer disasters and apps that eat landing pages and several unplanned medical appointments including two trips to urgent care in the last month…one for a kid who broke his arm and one for a bigger kid with a cyst who needs oral surgery again.

And we’re not quite done yet because, just for fun, we’re considering a new book distributor at the last minute.

But hey, friends…let me introduce you to the baby I’ve been pregnant with for eleven years.

“It burned me from within. It quickened; I was with book, as a woman is with child.”

– C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces

risk the ocean: an adoptive mom's memoir of sinking and sanctification

This is a memoir of my post-adoption journey through the chaos of mothering and homeschooling six kids in the midst of multiple special needs and my subsequent depression and sanctification as I learned to surrender. If you read Upside Down and Oh My Soul and wondered what was really going on behind the scenes, it’s in this book.

Because we never know how far our dreams and callings will take us when we start pursuing them. The initial rose-colored ideas only get us ankle-deep along the shore, digging our toes in warm sand, before reality sinks in and we’re up to our ears in work we didn’t anticipate, opposition from out of nowhere, obstacles we don’t know how to solve, and expenses that threaten to suck us under.

At some point, we have to decide if it’s really worth the sacrifice to turn our vision into reality. And if it’s a daydream, maybe it’s not worth it. But if it’s a calling – a mission – then it’s a different story.

This, friends, is a different story.

In 2010, Vince and I started a process we didn’t know how to finish. We had four kids, a three-bedroom house, and two old vehicles. We lived frugally with one main income, one micro-business, and a little in savings. And God called us to adopt two children with special needs, bringing them home two years later to freedom, a new homeland, and our family. For good, forever.

And then hell broke loose.

We didn’t know what it would cost, or what it would take out of us. We didn’t know what we would gain, or how it would change us. We didn’t know how the story would end.

And I hate to spoil it for you, but years later I still don’t know how the story ends. We still live this story every day. But here’s what I’ve learned, and am continuing to learn, in the process:

We can talk about following our dreams all we want, but our calling is only achieved through giving up what feels safe and comfortable. It involves scary things like obedience and surrender, and letting go of our preconceived notions and penchant for control. We have to move out of the comfort zone and do hard things. We have to risk the ocean if we want to follow Him as He walks on water.

When we move out of that comfort zone, God may allow us to discover more about our own brokenness than we ever wanted to know. This is especially true when our dreams and callings entail facing someone else’s trauma in close proximity.

And I won’t lie to you – in our own weakness and brokenness, sometimes we look at the waves and can’t take it anymore, and we go under, to be refined like a rock worn smooth in the agitation of violent surf.

The sanctifying process might chafe you raw, until you think you can’t take anymore.

Doesn’t that sound fun? Still want to sign up?

The thing about obeying God in these big, scary callings is that it’s not about what we’re doing at all. It’s about what He ends up doing in us. Because as we follow Him in one task, He will lead us to another, and another, and another. And we discover that we’re not just called to a mission, but to a character of obedience – like children who watch what their Father is doing, and then they do it, too.

So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise.”

– John 5:19

It turns out that achieving a dream is not about tying things up in the pretty bow we always expect, because redemption and achievement rarely look like a Hallmark Christmas movie.

They usually look more like God moving in deep and lasting triumph in spite of everything the enemy throws at us.

Risk the Ocean is available here. Thanks so much for supporting our family. xo

Risk the Ocean: An Adoptive Mom's Memoir of Sinking and Sanctification "Vulnerably shares the blood, sweat, and tear that real sacrificial love requires." "Integrity beams up and out of every page."

so close: how we cooperate with breakthrough

Posted on by August 10, 2023

I haven’t published a book in two years, but the one I’ve been working on for eleven years is about to release in a month or so. So this of course is not the best time for my computer to give me the blank stare of death.

But as I type this, it’s done that twice in a span 24 hours.

Did I have all my files backed up recently?

Oh, friends…I think we both already know the answer to that.

so close: how we cooperate with breakthrough

Fortunately Vince is a computer whiz (not by natural gifting or inclination, but because over the last five years I can’t tell you how many times technology has fritzed out on us) and he was able to restore the whole shebang the first time, which gave me the opportunity to frantically back up all my files. And since I have approximately the same number of files on my computer as my book has words (65,000, but who’s counting), that process took all evening and kept going through most of the night.

So when it crapped out again the next day, he was able to redo it all quickly and the only loss was all of my saved passwords and several hours of desk time. And even that wasn’t a total waste; in lieu of curling up in the fetal position in a corner of my bedroom and hyperventilating, I spent those hours trying not to throw up and instead busied myself with finding all the books I need to cite in my endnotes.

There have been quite a few days this month that have been not the best ones for sitting at the desk trying to write coherently, anyway. Those were days of Big Thoughts about Hard Situations, filled with distraction while I did tiny tasks: messages, emails, copying and pasting documents, busywork. And finally the short work shifts were over, and to my relief, it was time to switch with Vince and go to the kitchen or the yard. The manual tasks of washing eggs, taking care of chickens, and making shepherd’s pie are a much better use of time on these high pressure, overwhelming days.

Earlier this month we had a first-thing-in-the-morning visit to Urgent Care because little boys should not fight over opening the curtain in the morning (strike one) or stand in their windowsill (strike two) and they should definitely not shove each other while standing in said windowsill (strike three). So Kav broke his arm again – same arm, different spot, both bones but not nearly as bad as last time, praise God and pass the ibuprofen – and he is in another cast until early August.

I have been telling people that, in our defense, in 22 years of parenting we have had eight children and no broken bones until this kid. We almost had a perfect record. So close.

Or another example: One day Reagan finally did her math assignment for the first time in two weeks. She knows odds and evens, has sorted them out for years, and even if she forgets (because this is the brain on FAS), the guidelines are written at the top of her page: Even numbers end in 0, 2, 4, 6, and 8. Odd numbers end in 1, 3, 5, 7, and 9.

For two weeks she either ignored the guidelines or blatantly refused to do it, and instead of following the instructions to mark all even numbers with X’s, she randomly marked some or all of them every single day. She knew it was wrong; she knew she was disobeying.

Ironically, she also wants to move onto the next math level. She talks about starting her next book almost every day, and she knows she can’t get to it if she won’t finish the page she’s on, so close to the end of her current book.

And then one morning she finally did it: Perfect Xs on all the even numbers, and only the even numbers. Hallelujah. The next section was easy: Just add simple two-digit numbers. She knows this and usually flies through it. Just in case though, I checked to make sure she knew what to do. Then she went back to the table.

Two minutes later she brought me her book. She had not added anything. Instead, she went back to the odds and evens she had finally finished, crossed out all the odd numbers in addition to the evens she had finally done correctly, effectively undoing her work and thumbing her nose at me. In spite of what she says every day, the clear message was, No, I do not want to do school, I do not want to move on.

So when we are so close to victory and hit a delay, sometimes it’s attack, and sometimes it’s sabotage – we’re afraid of the change that we’ve been begging for, because we don’t really know what to expect from it.

And other times it’s neither. We’re just waiting, and it’s not always easy to tell the difference. We don’t want to fight against God’s timing and rebuke what we think is an attack if it’s really God causing a delay for our good. So we wrestle in this unknowing, and ask Him to take us back to the beginning.

This is where I was a couple weeks ago. I was praying and had no idea what to do about a situation, and I told the Lord that I needed Him to take me back to the very beginning. In desperation, I felt like I didn’t know how to pray, intercede, declare, bind, or assault the enemy; I had tried everything but nothing seemed to be working.

So I asked Him again, through tears and gritted teeth:

“God, show me how to pray. Show me how to declare. I need You to show me exactly what to do now because I don’t know what’s working. I feel like I’m aiming blindly and sometimes something sticks and sometimes it doesn’t, and I don’t know what makes the difference. So show me what to do – show me what works, and show me how to do it. I keep hitting all the buttons, and I don’t know what’s working, what’s not working, what’s canceling the others out. I just keep slamming all the freaking buttons. Show me the right one to push, and I will do it.”

When I was done venting and seething, the Holy Spirit quietly said, Everything works.

I sat there stunned, wondering if I’d heard correctly. What?! What do You mean, everything works?

He answered, You want to know how severe the onslaught has been against you? It’s because everything you’ve been doing in obedience and faith works – and that’s how much opposition you’ve been dealing with, because everything you’ve been doing has been working.

You’ve just been encountering that much attack because that’s how terrified the enemy is of your victory.

And suddenly I was eager to intercede, to fight, to get back in the battle. The enemy had me convinced it wasn’t working and I fell for it. I hadn’t been pushing as hard, which made his job that much easier. But since that revelation, there’s been momentum in prayer and intercession and declaration and in coming against the enemy and binding his attacks because I know it all works.

Trusting even when it appears you have been forsaken; praying when it seems your words are simply entering a vast expanse where no one hears and no voice answers; believing that God’s love is complete and that He is aware of your circumstances, even when your world seems to grind on as if setting its own direction and not caring for life or moving one inch in response to your petitions; desiring only what God’s hands have planned for you; waiting patiently while seemingly starving to death, with your only fear being that your faith might fail – “this is the victory that has overcome the world;” this is genuine faith indeed.

– George MacDonald

Superimposed over all this in what can only be explained by divine coordination, are various out-of-nowhere confirmations and encouragements from friends, readers, and strangers: a text with a timely word, dinner ordered for us from out of state, and messages from people telling us what they see in our family, work, and ministry that we don’t see ourselves because it’s all just too close to see clearly.

Which brings me to what might be the central scripture verse for this new book:

After the reading from the Law and the Prophets, the rulers of the synagogue sent a message to them, saying, “Brothers, if you have any word of encouragement for the people, say it.”

– Acts 13:15

So there is definite shifting, winds changing. Pressure and attack colliding with trust and abiding. Hard work colliding with rest. Surrender in one direction and rebuke and binding in the other. In spite of the attacks when we are this close, we have momentum: With every Yes, His kingdom’s coming. Because it all works.

P.S. If you haven’t heard yet, the new book is called Risk the Ocean: An Adoptive Mom’s Memoir of Sinking and Sanctification. It releases September 19th and you can preorder it here. xo