Category Archives: mothering

what we are charged to carry

Posted on by November 20, 2025

I talked about Exodus a while back and I’m currently in Numbers, so if you’re paying attention, that means I blew through Leviticus with nary a reference to it, and you’re welcome.

But I have a confession to make.

I actually like Numbers.

what we are charged to carry: how quiet perseverance makes room for exploits | Shannon Guerra @ Copperlight Wood

Is that shocking? It gets such a bad rap, but I think that’s because by the time we’ve endured all the details of the Tabernacle and the Levitical laws, we find ourselves in Numbers amid tribes and names and duties and we are just like, When will this ever end, and Pleeeease not another census, and also, what the heck, they’re not even talking about yarn anymore.

But Numbers is where the battles start. It’s where the spies scope out the Promised Land. There’s deception and cursing and blessing. Rebellion, revolts, and wars. So. Much. Drama.

Before we get to all that, though, we delve into tribes and their responsibilities, and yes, it’s boring. But we are grown ups and the Lord uses our postured attention to speak to us even when we couldn’t care less about the Kohathites.

On the blue couch with the Bible and coffee, my eyes go over the verses and sometimes the Lord tells me something that has nothing to do with the chapter at all, but about the day ahead or a situation I’ve been praying about. And this easy; it actually asks less of me than really studying, unraveling Greek or Hebrew, or wondering what a passage says in a different version. Because in these times, He gives answers, not more questions.

Also, this boring stuff sets the stage for the exploits later. I’m no Old Testament scholar, but it was a massive feat to organize this group of millions in their community functions, and it was not glamorous work. I need to see this boring stuff because my own life is riddled with the expensive, complicated mundane, and I need perspective.

What I mean is, it’s easy to be passionate and excited about Big Endeavors. There’s a mission or a battle ahead? Great! Let’s train, prepare, equip, invest, do all the things! Yes, it’s hard, but this is an adventure! It’s ambitious! Gutsy! We’re doing it for a cause!

It’s one thing to raise a bunch of money because you’re adopting or going back to school or launching a business venture or becoming a missionary or doing some other wild exploit. It’s another thing entirely to need roughly the same amount of funds to crown a broken tooth, cover eye appointments and glasses for three people, and replace your home’s heating system which has already been repaired numerous times.

These are not the escapades that inspire us. This the boring maintenance that keeps body and soul – er, house – together. And we need answers here too, not more questions.

So everything we read doesn’t have to be wars and drama and taking the land, just as everything we do at home isn’t always birthday parties and pizza nights. We need routine maintenance, like laundry and making beds. We need the calm to train our attention spans with books and tasks that are less flashy. So these parts in the Old Testament will grow us, if we let them.

My old NRSV talks about ancestral houses and the different services performed by clans, and it is of course not referring to physical houses, but generational giftings and callings. Or, deeper, it’s about the atmosphere and assignments of our families – including our church families.

This stuff seems dry when we read it, but we all have a particular culture within our homes and tribes we run with. Your ancestral house might excel in music and theatrical creativity; maybe everyone knows the hymnal from front to back. Some groups are quiet and reverent, others are loud and hilarious. Some of us have powerful deliverance ministries or community outreaches, but we still aren’t sure how to use the word “liturgy” in a sentence.

In chapter 4, this verse stopped me:

This is what they are charged to carry, as the whole of their service…

– Numbers 4:31a

You and I, individually, are charged to carry particular things as our whole act of service, too. They are specific things, not everything; we are charged to carry whatever the Lord has called us to. Not what He’s called our neighbor or pastor or best friend to.

Still in Numbers 4, in verse 47 it talks about “…everyone qualified to do the work of service and the work of bearing burdens,” and it’s referring to the tent of meeting. But as I’m reading it, the Lord is talking to me about my work and service, and how not wanting to and not being qualified are different things. Because here, too, is the discipline and obedience that bear fruit.

This is where the battles in our hearts start – and if we follow through, it’s where they’re won.

I don’t always want to do the work of thinking hard, or counseling and discipling, or helping my 20-year-old daughter in the bathroom. But those are things I am charged to carry.

On the daily, I tend to feel scattered and spread thin: kids, family, ministry, business, writing, Gaining Ground, Homesteaderly, homeschooling, personal study. What am I focused on? Aren’t we supposed to have a niche? Everyone says so. At least, all the self-promoting experts on the internet do.

But as I’ve been in Numbers, I’ve also been in Proverbs 31 for weeks, rereading, letting it sink into me. I never seem to get enough time in it, so this time around I decided to linger. And as I’ve gone over it again and again (not the whole chapter, just the last 20ish verses), I’ve realized that this woman didn’t fit into tidy, clean boxes, either. She, too, was all over the place: family, business, community, creativity, caring for her household and also for herself.

Huh. The world tells us to focus and “niche down,” but that is not how life works for many of us. Most of us are not charged to carry just one or two simple priorities. When we seek the Kingdom first, our passions run deep and wide. We scatter seeds everywhere.

In the wide broadcast, it seems like it’s taking forever to see fruit come of it.

Look at the plant, Love, He says.

About a year ago I repotted and hung this pothos; it had only two stems and about four leaves. Now it has fourteen.

All I’ve done is water it, and wait.

And this is where we see exponential growth: small steps of obedience, plus time and patience.

Steadiness and grit. Backbone and perseverance. Constancy and equanimity. On their own, they’re just stubbornness. But leveraged in obedience toward our callings, they multiply into something beyond our expectations.

I didn’t have a grid for that, we think.

And He says, That’s why I’m giving you one.

Our small acts are laying down lines, creating a platform that our future exploits are built on.

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trying too hard: the difference between giving up & surrender

Posted on by September 17, 2025

It’s fall, so if you come to our house in the next few weeks, I’m warning you, there will be quail in the main bathroom again. But they don’t stare or gawk, and you can pretty much do your business in peace.

Our last hatch of the year was at the end of August and for the first time, we had to help a few of the quail out of their shells. And if you know about hatching chicks of any kind, you know you’re not supposed to do that.

trying too hard: the difference between giving up & surrender | Shannon Guerra at Copperlight Wood

Three of them were stuck, though. They had done most of the work themselves already, but the incubator’s humidity was off and it had been too long; they were going to die anyway. Their shells were just too dry and wouldn’t crack the rest of the way open…so I helped. One at a time, I took their warm eggs from the incubator and held them in my hand. With fear and trembling, I slid the tine of a fork into the widened crack, widened it a little more, and popped them back in the incubator.

They made it, but two out of the three really struggled – and we did, too. Their toes would not straighten out, so we painstakingly splinted them with bandaids. They had splayed legs (common even in otherwise healthy chicks) so we popped them in small jars for teacup therapy. We tried every trick we knew, and learned a few more from the internet.

By day two, one of the chicks was better but it was clear that the other one’s leg had stiffened wrong and it was still walking on curled toes. It seemed happy enough for the time being, even though it struggled to get around like the other chicks who were zipping all over the place.

How do you put something out of its misery when it doesn’t seem miserable yet? Do you wait for the misery to come, or do you keep praying for a miracle? There are much bigger livestock to apply this too, and I’m grateful we only deal with poultry.

The other chick seemed fine until day three, when it somehow got caught under the food dish and twisted itself all up. It could only spin in circles, could not get right side up again, and was obviously miserable. We couldn’t wait long after prayer for a miracle, so off that one went, too.

And here’s what I kept wrestling with that seemed to vocalize so many other struggles: Do we keep praying and trying, or do we give up?

At what point do we know we’ve really given it all we’ve got?

And, are we really giving up at that point, or are we surrendering?

Which brings me to one of our annual meetings for Reagan, our adoptive daughter. She is nineteen, with many special needs, and she can be finished with school, or she can have up to two more years. It gives us some structure for her life, so we’ve taken it a year at a time, and decided to keep going for now.

But that means we also have to decide what to do about math.

Math has always been so hard. Not just in the normal sense because math is hard for some kids, but haaard because she doesn’t have any comprehension of so many concepts. Money, spatial relations, telling time, they all mean nothing to her. Even simple addition and subtraction is a fight, and whatever aspect we don’t do all the time, she forgets.

So the spiral method of learning – when you cycle through various concepts and eventually revisit them to review before moving on – has never really worked for her. By the time the same concept comes around, she has to learn it all over again. And often, she doesn’t want to. So it’s a battle, and after 13 years it feels like one that’s very much not worth fighting anymore.

She has struggled, and we have, too. We’ve tried all the tricks. We keep explaining, we keep praying for a miracle.

And aside from math, she’s happy. She doesn’t care what grade she’s in or that her siblings can zip all over the place around her.

Like I said a minute ago: Do we keep trying, or do we give up? At what point do we know we’ve really given it all we’ve got?

But also: After 13 years, is it really giving up? Or is it surrendering, so we can move on to other things? Because the line between those feels super blurry.

Sitting across from our contact teacher, I finally ask, “Does she have to do math? I mean, it’s been thirteen years. She’s been in first grade workbooks for the last eight or nine of them, and cannot get through them. Can we just be done?”

Exasperation and tears. It feels so much like failure. All this time, and we could not get her farther than this.

But on the other side of the desk, our teacher nods.

“Yeah, you can be done.” More tears. Because as much as it feels like failure and finality, it also feels like relief.

What is the difference between surrender and giving up? I’m still sorting this out, but I think a big part of it has to do with control. I don’t mean controlling others, or even self control, but how much control we actually have over an outcome. Because sometimes (often) we take an unhealthy amount of responsibility onto ourselves for those outcomes.

We influence, yes, but we don’t cause other people (and certain situations) to change. We pray, we love, we act…but people make their own choices, they decide their own character. And when we’re working harder than they are for a better outcome, that’s a good time to surrender it.

Many sincere, dedicated believers struggle with tremendous confusion about when it is biblically appropriate to set limits.

– Cloud and Townsend, Boundaries

We invest affection, love, time, prayer, creativity, and effort into these situations. And when it all comes to nothing – or at least, seems like nothing, in the long run – it all feels wasted.

For the ignored friend, the parent of the prodigal, or the spouse who is neglected, abandoned, or abused – at what point do we quit trying so hard, quit striving for the change that someone else can only choose for themselves? We never stop praying, but when do we stop reaching out, trying so hard, waiting for the other person to mature and grow?

Powerful people do not try to control other people. They know it doesn’t work, and that it’s not their job. Their job is to control themselves….A powerful person’s choice to love will stand, no matter what the other person does or says.

– Danny Silk, Keep Your Love On

We can’t just wait for them to change. Sometimes we use waiting as an excuse to not make changes of our own, but we have to be responsible for the changes we should make, and responsive to the things the Lord is telling us to do.

With fear and trembling, sometimes we hold these situations like dry, not-quite-hatched eggs, and we carefully try to help them open. And sometimes it works. But also, sometimes it doesn’t. After we have obeyed, the outcome isn’t up to us.

Hear me, friend: God does not hold us hostage for miracles. He does not need us to strive for them.

And on the other end of things, He does not depend on our steadfast maintenance of the status quo to buy Him time, either.

Circumstances are one thing, but relationships are even stickier. What do we do when someone we love repeatedly shows how little they care, or they seem to thrive in creating chaos, or they indulge their immaturity by hurting you in passive aggressive ways? It’s hard to just move on and go about the daily tasks of life, to put on the mask and pretend things are fine, because that’s what this other person is doing and you know how wrong it is.

Some relationships we just have to let go of. Many friendships are for certain seasons and then they fade away. But certain relationships – like family members, or people you have some kind of ongoing work, ministry, or community partnership with – don’t just fade away. Somehow in these situations, we have to figure out how to love steadfastly, in the way that covers the multitude of sins, because of their proximity.

This kind of love brings us to endurance. We can’t change the other person, and we often can’t change our circumstances or proximity. So we do have to stick it out, and that can feel a lot like failure, giving up, and lowering our standards. This is so far beneath what I wanted this situation to look like. Ugh.

So we pull out all the tricks we know for this, too. We pray. We forgive. We set boundaries. And sometimes we wonder why we have to settle for so much less than what God surely intended for this situation.

It is hard to forgive and even want to keep trying when they use that proximity to make a show of how much more they care for others than you, and they make sure you see it. It is hard to overlook, to keep showing grace, to keep your cool inside your own boundaries. And boundaries, for the record, are limits placed out of love and protection. They are not a cloak for rudeness couched in a desire to avoid responsibility.

As we surrender the outcomes that are out of our control, are we really settling for less? Or is God training us for more?

Because His character hasn’t changed. His will for us and the other person has not changed.

Are we really lowering our standards? Or are we moving on so we can fight other battles – the ones we have a hand in winning?

One of the battles we continue to fight with (and for) Reagan is communication. She is verbal but most people can’t understand her because she slurs, blends words, skips words, and generally speaks in that toddler-like manner that only parents and siblings can decode.

So here’s where we stand our ground: Even when I understand what she’s saying, if it’s not clear, I usually have her repeat it correctly.

“Slow down and say each word so I can understand you,” I often tell her. There will come a day when she needs someone else to understand her, and if we let her get away with garble, she will regress further.

I sat next to her during worship at one of our community-wide gatherings a couple weeks ago, and prayed for the millionth time for healing in her. And because it has been a million times (but who’s counting) I also prayed for healing in my own heart over the hope deferred, the things I cannot change, the things I don’t know how to change, the loss of what seems like things should have been.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.

– Proverbs 13:12

I have wondered how sick my heart is, how skewed my perspective is from living so close for so long and not seeing certain answers. I have fought the battle of faith against futility, seen the shimmer of horizon through closed eyes in prayer, and knew it wasn’t a vision, but tears.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.

Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.

– Philippians 4:4-5

The fight is not about what I can change in her, but in what I am letting God change in me.

It is not about lowering my standards or expectations, but about seeing rightly the battles that I can and need to be fighting.

It is about seeing how other desires are fulfilled, and focusing on the tree of life.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

– Philippians 4:6-8

The leaves are falling outside and the season is going fast, racing toward the long winter. And we grieve over the loss of time, the speed of time, the lost opportunity of what could and should have been. In the storm and shadow of these deep struggles, our efforts can feel like such dim lights in such darkness. Our small influence, our private lives, our humble gifts, what can they do amid the raking waves in the present, violent tumult?

In that moment during worship as I looked down and watched my tears hit the hardwood floor, I knew with certainty that next to me Reagan was just giddy over the volume of the music. Delighted in the moment, flapping her hands, utterly apathetic about how I was even at that moment fighting for her.

Jesus, receive the reward of your suffering. We sang it that night, and we live it every day as we give it all we’ve got, and then surrender.

making the cut: dedicating our life’s fabric to Him

Posted on by July 14, 2025

It’s that time again. Meaning, it’s been a couple years since I last repaired it, and once again our cats have littered our duvet with several tears from their cute little claws.

And because sometimes I go out of my way to make a simple solution more complex, rather than just sewing it with the machine like I did the last time, I thought it would be brilliant to make some gorgeous scrappy patches for it, à la Pinterest.

The method: Determine color scheme. Gather fabric scraps. Waste time perusing the internet for ideas, under the guise of research.

And finally, pick up a piece of grey cotton, and hold the scissors against it.

Angle the scissors this way and that. Try to imagine the finished shape I’m going for.

Hem and haw, uncertain.

Aaaaand I’m stalling, doing nothing…and I realize I’m actually afraid to cut into the fabric.

Why? It’s just a small piece of unused material. It’s not like I’m ruining anything if I make a mistake.

But no, making a cut means a tiny bit of commitment. It means I’m officially starting this project. And it means the possibility of error, of ending up with something I don’t like, of eventually tossing these efforts into the trash bin.

And that’s the real crux of my hesitation.

I’m afraid to make this cut because I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m afraid it will be ugly, that it will be a waste of fabric, time, attention.

Holy Spirit corrects me: It’s not a waste. It’s never a waste. It’s how the process works, and you are learning.

And hey, Love…you’re making it out of scraps, anyway.

He’s right, of course. This is a project pulled together from scraps of material, worked on in scraps of time.

And the first try is ugly. A mess. Wrong stitches, wrong placements.

But this is how we learn: By trying. By making the cut.

Part of the problem was that my cuts were too small, too safe, too conservative. I was trying to not use too much fabric or make the pieces too big.

Why do we do this? The Lord offers freedom and gives us so much creative material to use. But whether it’s perfectionism, procrastination, overthinking, or fear of what others will think, we often hesitate and hold back, entertaining all the wrong what ifs.

But why are we afraid to waste what is already dedicated to burn?

For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

– Galatians 2:19-20

If we have really laid ourselves down, determined to die to self and let Him be Lord and live through us, why do we keep trying to jump off the altar? Why do we keep trying to determine how hot the fire gets, and to control the burning?

Maybe we use the phrase “making the cut” in the wrong way. We think it means approval, that we’re allowed to stay in the game, that we’re good enough. And that’s the problem right there.

In Jesus, we already have approval. We’re already in the game. He has made us good enough, because it was never about us being able to meet a particular standard.

It’s always been about Jesus being the standard.

So really, making the cut is about our willingness to move forward in that freedom. We invest the talent, the time, the materials, the effort. We risk the unknown outcomes, and lay down our desire to be seen as flawless and infallible, rather than burying ourselves safely where we don’t even accrue interest.

Will we mess up? Yes!

Will Jesus be shocked, dismayed, and disappointed? No.

We make something beautiful by daring to try. We may not start perfectly – we might need to undo, redo, and repent. But we use it all, our whole life, and we don’t hold back to preserve what’s meant to revert to dust anyway.

And then we find that instead of a stifled lifestyle that ties us up in knots of stress and perfectionism and anxiety, focused on self-preservation and lack, we are walking in Kingdom culture. Our lives breathe the Kingdom in vulnerability and discernment as we are willing to risk honesty and transparency with others.

Can I ask…where have you been hesitating? To what material have you been holding the scissors to, afraid to make the cut? And what is the fear you’re fighting? If you can identify it, you can move forward faster.

I’d love to hear your thoughts if you need help untangling this; just reply to this email.

Personally, Vin and I have made several “cuts” in the last few weeks as the Lord has brought clarity and certainty to us about a shift we’ve been sensing. We’ve arranged meetings and asked for advice and counsel. We’ve said things out loud that surprised us. And it’s all been good – don’t panic, I’m not getting ready to drop a scandalous announcement – but it has also pressed us (at least, me) into a new level of bold surrender.

Are you ready for a soft announcement?

We’re moving toward full-time ministry, which means we are also moving into being fully donor-supported. Still writing, still sharing, but with less paywalls and prices. Less business, more availability for the needs God is putting right in front of us…whether they are local or in our inbox.

We are using it all, our whole life, to help people live out Kingdom culture, deep and wide.

He himself granted that some are apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ.

— Ephesians 4:11-13

As a result, we’re even more focused on wholeness and healing, and we’re asking for monthly partnerships to help us do the work of expanding Kingdom culture, so we can still do other exciting things like pay the mortgage and buy groceries.

Many of you already support us through monthly or yearly subscriptions, and we’re so grateful for you. If you’d like to increase that giving or become a monthly supporter, you can mail donations to our address below, or donate through Buy Me A Coffee or Zelle (our email there is contact@vinceguerra.com). We’re still fleshing this out and will have more info to share soon….thanks so much for helping us make this cut.

To anticipate one question: We are not (and won’t be) a non-profit, and we will continue saying whatever God leads us to, whether the government or other entities like it or not.

As for the duvet, I’m just handstitching it. Forget Pinterest. :)

Praying for you,

Shannon
P.O. Box 298086
Wasilla, AK 99629

P.S. This was a fabulous little message about overthinking.

P.P.S. Grit is going to be available in paperback next month! You can pre-order it here and they’ll ship on August 19th.