Gratitude.
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Just What I Needed.
Truthfully, I always imagined myself raising boys. I just assumed that, with all my affection for order and organization, the Lord would throw in some boys to leave muddy little footprints across my floor and my type A heart. I was so sure He’d use them to teach me to let go and live a little. But that wasn’t His plan… No, it sure wasn’t because God gave me a daughter instead. The daintiest little thing, beautiful in every way, so full of the joy of life. He gave me this perfect and precious girl, and then He asked me to listen to the way I spoke to her each…
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Permission to Live.
When we first found out Savannah would need a little extra care, I remember asking the Lord, “How am I going to do this?” I knew her life held great purpose from Him, and I knew the promises of His Word from my own healing testimony. I could gather the Scriptures. I knew how to stand on them for her. He’d do the rest. But how could I live out my faith in between those moments of sink-to-my-knees, cry-out-my-eyes, call-out-His-name prayer closet sessions? What would it look like to take my stance in my bedroom- standing and shouting, pointing my finger at an invisible enemy, boldly declaring God’s Word over…
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Walking by Faith.
The bucket list I made in high school had “teach a child to walk” on it. This week I watched Savannah’s little footprints in the sand and had a shift of perspective. As hard as it is some days to see children Savannah’s age running, jumping, playing, doing dance and sports, we’re getting a little longer to take in this time that even 17 year old me recognized as being so precious. Knowing the promise (for a life of abundance in Jesus) doesn’t mean the difficult emotions don’t come. It doesn’t mean our minds won’t try to wander with the what if’s. Knowing the promise means we have the opportunity-…
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I Know Where The Sidewalk Ends.
Let’s talk about trauma, mamas. Experiencing and recovering from trauma is like running along a moving sidewalk. Life feels fast-paced and, honestly, maybe even just frantic. You are exhausted trying to keep the pace but you’ve got your eyes locked on the end in sight. That place where the yellow and black striped metal meets the concrete and you know life will slow to a stroll. Things will be easy again. Life will be good. But nobody ever tells you what life looks like on the other side of that sidewalk- whatever event you’re just trying to get through. No one tells you about the moment your legs, now adjusted…
