The Yes On The Table

It started with a yes.

We were at Next Level church and this was long before Next Level was our church.  We were there only because one of our absolute favorites was there too, speaking and meeting people.  Even us!

Jen Hatmaker

Jen had come to speak and we had come to hear.  It was a holy moment because at the end, Jen said, “Just put your yes on the table.  Give Him your yes.”  And we did.

And it didn’t seem like such a big deal.

But it was.  Because a very short time later, we saw this photo.

2506_Sylvia 16-2

And we heard a whisper.  “This is your daughter.”  and we began the process.

19 months later and we thought the hard part was over.  She was home, she was safe, we had our seventh child in our midst.

But we didn’t know what hard was then.

We didn’t know that when we put our yes on the table and we said yes to Him, the One that holds all things together, that he was going to do more than just bring a little girl home.

He brought a little girl home but he also changed us.

And it kind of makes me want to say to God, “I see what you did there.” because I thought the whole point was bringing Sisi home.  And for sure that was one of the whole points.  The Bible says it clearly.  “Care for the widows and orphans in their distress.” and “He sets the lonely in families.” and “a father to the fatherless, a defender of widows is God.” and “the Lord sustains the fatherless.” and “defend the weak and the fatherless” and “love one another as I have loved you” and that was all very clear.  Bringing Sisi home was the work of God.

But there was more to unpack in this “yes”.

Parenting a child from trauma meant that all of our ugliness was forced to the surface.  The stress of working our daughter through her grief and through her stress has changed us.  Because adoption is so beautiful, yes, but it is born of loss.  And Sisi has faced the loss of her birth family and then the loss of her foster family.

And as our characters were being refined, we found that what was being pushed to the surface was stuff we didn’t like.  Stuff we were ashamed of.

And that is where the YES that we gave comes in all over again.

We were also saying yes to refinement.

God has never promised easy.  He has promised presence, He has promised endurance, He has promised faithfulness.  He has never promised that if we name it we can claim it but he has promised that all things work together for our good.  He has never promised that this was an easy road, in fact he promised that in this world there will be trouble.

He promised us His peace.  Peace that is not like the world gives.  There is a peace, even in the midst of trouble, that comes from knowing you are where he wants you to be.   His presence in my struggles, in my selfishness, it is the healing gift that I need most.

He has promised us love and I have learned much about love in my 45 years.  What some people call love is not love at all because it is conditional, it is fleeting.  The love of God is permanent and nothing can take it from me.  It is not based on my performance but based on the one who is Love.  It is a love that lasts, that endures, that shapes and that transforms.

IMG_1502

And he is transforming us.

Our yes is still on the table and we don’t know where it will lead us next.

But we know the One who does.  And we start with this.

Do small things with great love.

CartestersonInk-23

We go from here, with our yes on the table ready to go wherever that takes us.

 

 

Advertisements

My Beloved Speaks and Says to Me, Arise

Remember that time I almost died bringing Nora into the world?  Remember how she was super premature and all kind of terrifying things happened?

That was easier than adoption.

Adoption requires much.

You must first prove yourself to your home study agency.  You must then prove yourself to the country you’ve chosen.  You must then prove yourself to grant agencies.  Who also want tax documents for the past 75 years…at minimum.

Through it all, you have to hustle for funds because redemption is so, so costly.  Fundraisers, yard sales (I HATE yard sales), crafts, asking, asking, asking.  And it’s so beautiful to see your village rally, it’s so beautiful to see people come together to be part of a story of redemption.  But you wonder if they are sick to death of you asking…

Then you travel across the world to meet a child you would die for that you’ve never ever met.  You come with your heart in your hands and you savor the beauty of it all…and the heartbreak too.  Because with adoption comes so much loss.  You will take the child from the world she knows, from the only ones she knows…to a place that looks, sounds, smells and tastes different.  To a language she’s never heard, into a family that has spent a year preparing for her but that she is just not prepared for.

You do the hard work of figuring out just what her “moderate to severe special needs” look like, what it means.  You figure out what she needs.  You batten down the hatches and stay close…parenting in a new way, because what she needs is to know that she can trust you.  That she can let her guard down.  That there will be enough food, that she has a place.  That she is cherished.

God has done such a work in me through all of this.  I’ve had to lean hard into Him.  When fear threatened to steal my breath (and threatens to steal my breath), I lean hard.  When things look like they are unraveling or when issues arise or when it’s looking impossible…I just have to remember…

He called us to this.

He loves Sissy.  She is His.

And He owns the cattle on a thousand hills.  He changes the hearts of kings.  He is One who finishes what He’s started.

arise

And so I will.  Arise.  Freeze my hand to the sword, just like Eleazar and fight the fight until Sissy is home safe and sound.

You can help.

Donate directly to our agency atPure Charity  This is an amazing way to help us out!  $20 donations also automatically enter you to win a housecleaning by my friend Mabel.

Donate to our FSP at Reece’s Rainbow.  These funds will cover travel expenses.

Donate to our fund at Go Fund Me.  This is where we raise money for ALL costs.  (The two above our tax deductible.

Any amount helps, from $1 to $1000.

Donate items you make, items you sell, services your provide or gently used items with tons of life left in them from your home.  We have a HUGE auction coming up and we need your participation!

Come to our bake sale Saturday morning.  We will have TONS of goodies to tempt your tastebuds!

Good Good Father

 

In church on Sunday, we sang this song that has been playing in my head on repeat ever since.

It’s “Good Good Father” by Housefires (or Chris Tomlin, if you’d rather).

https://www.youtube.com/embed/djrY_eFDOwE“>Good Good Father

0204130d7874aa03a7f5ed80565ee2ad

I am singing this all day today, over  my own heart…over my sweet husband, over all six of my beautiful babies and the two boyfriends in law…over my seventh baby in Eastern Europe; the one who has never known a father at all.

And I am realizing something for the millionth time as the words sink in deep.  (God is faithful to teach me the same lessons over and over…as often as I need them.)

He is Good.  Nothing can change that.  It’s who He is.  Yes, even when things are Extra Hard and Really Scary.  In the Big Life Things…He is perfect, loving, kind, and He is For Me.  He is For Sylvia.  He’s not a magic genie that makes life easy and makes it all okay…but He is For Me.  Perfect in all of His ways to us.

I am loved by Him.  Nothing can change that.  It’s who I am.  Yes, even when I struggle to hold onto that Truth.  Even when I don’t feel very lovely…even when I don’t feel loved by Him, I am loved by Him.  It’s Truth.  Even if I reject it…it’s still true.  It’s who I am.

Sylvia is loved by Him.  Nothing can change that.  It’s who she is.

And so I have newfound peace moving forward.  I’m eating this elephant one bite at a time…I’m freezing my hand to the sword.  He stands with me and I know that this is not my own battle that I fight, that this battle belongs to Him, the Good Father.

And when a Daughter asks a good, good Father for bread, He will not give her stones.

deuteronomoy

Good Good Father by Housefires

Oh, I’ve heard a thousand stories of what they think you’re like
but I’ve heard the tender whisper
of love in the dead of night
You tell me that you’re pleased
and that I’m never alone

You’re a Good, Good Father
It’s who you are, It’s who you are,
It’s who you are
and I’m loved by you
It’s who I am, It’s who I am,
It’s who I am

I’ve seen many searching
for answers far and wide
But I know
we’re all searching for answers only you provide
Because you know
just what we need
before we say a word

You’re a Good, Good Father
It’s who you are, It’s who you are,
It’s who you are
and I’m loved by you
It’s who I am, It’s who I am,
It’s who I am

You are perfect in all of your ways
You are perfect in all of your ways
You are perfect in all of your ways to us

Oh it’s Love so undeniable
I, I can hardly speak
Peace so Unexplainable
I, I can hardly think
As you call me deeper still
as you call me deeper still
as you call me deeper still into love love love

You’re a Good, Good Father
It’s who you are, It’s who you are,
It’s who you are
and I’m loved by you
It’s who I am, It’s who I am,
It’s who I am

You’re a Good, Good Father
It’s who you are, It’s who you are,
It’s who you are
and I’m loved by you
It’s who I am, It’s who I am,
It’s who I am

I Woke Up

This week, there were two anniversary days.

November 18th, the day our Nora was born.  A scrappy little 2 lb. 14 oz. fighter, bursting to life and changing the world.

November 19th, I woke up, after the doctors were sure I never would again.

And I’ve realized some things about those days.  You can read the whole story here and throughout many, many blog posts in 2012.

November 19th, I woke up.

When you come that close to death, your world view shifts.  Things change in your heart, paradigms you’ve always believed and trusted are shaken to the core.

I learned that life is so, so short.  I learned that every single life is precious.  As I held my tiny baby, smaller than half a bag of flour…I knew her life was precious.  And in my heart, something opened up.  Lives are so precious.

IMG_1744

I became more sensitive to news stories of human suffering.  Pictures of children struggling for life in orphanages began to seem urgent. I saw need everywhere.

I also figured out that I want an extraordinary life.  I don’t want the white picket fence and new cars and great clothes.  I like those things…but my life goals are simpler now…

Love God.

Love People.

I woke up to reality.  And every year, I am reminded of the lessons I learned.  You can read about it Here, 2013 and Here, 2014 or some more here 2014.

There is so much suffering in our world.  And I am still piecing together and puzzling out our place in the resolutions.

But I came away from my experiences in November of 2012 changed.  I woke up.  And I know I want to make an impact.  I am reminded anew every year on these days.

I want to make a difference.  Because I’m grateful, because this life is short, because every single person has value that can’t be measured.

Right now.

We are starting with one.  Just one.

Sylvia Grace.

Will you join us?

SylviaGrace

2506_Sylvia 15-2

 

He’s A Good Father

Today, I am going to a birthday party.

It’s a birthday party for a sweet little girl turning three years old and this is the first birthday party she’s ever had.  Maybe the first birthday anyone has taken note of.

She was adopted from China.

I made her a little piece of art last night and I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what verse of Scripture I wanted to use.

I landed on James 1:17.  Every good and perfect gift comes from above.

Image

Aila is a good and perfect gift.  Her smile is infectious and when she claps those sweet little hands, everyone falls to pieces.  This verse perfectly sums up who she is to her family.  This little girl is truly beloved by her parents and her sister and brothers, her extended family and her family of friends too.  She is a much prayed for, much adored little treasure.

But in her country, she was not seen as a treasure.  She was not seen as a good and perfect gift.  Aila has Down Syndrome.

And it strikes me that it is just like God to shine a light on a jewel like Aila, so that others can see her beauty…where some tried to hide her away….He would not have that.

And that makes me think about God and gifts even more…because some of the gifts He gives me, I’m not always grateful for.  Some of the things that come my way do not seem like favor.

romans818

My first real blog post here was called Caroline and the Puddle and the gist was that we were walking our then puppy to the sound to play and jump in the water.  She saw a puddle on the way and was straining to get to it.  It was the best thing she’d ever seen, because she didn’t know that the sound was in her future.

This is me.  As I pray about our future- seminary, buying a house, adoption…I want it all right now.  Waiting is so hard.  Not knowing what is next is even harder.

And then, it dawns on me…not being in control is the hardest part.  I think this is what God wants from me. To relinquish control and to surrender in the waiting.  To trust that every good and perfect gift comes from Him.  And to trust that He is a good father and He wants good things for me.  To be still and know that He is God and to relish every day as it comes, taking notice of the good gifts all around me.

To stop wishing my life away on things that are to come.  Those things are going to come whether I love the life I’m in or not.  I might as well settle in and bask in His love.  He is always there.  He does not leave.  He gives good gifts every single day.

Tonight, I will celebrate one of those good gifts.  I will kiss Aila’s sweet cheeks and hug her parents and just be grateful with them, for the good and perfect gift that Aila is.  For the way God loves us.  He’s a good father.

Oh How He Loves Us So

Jesus really, really loves us.

And He cares about every single thing we care about…the big and the small.

About thirteen months ago, I asked Jesus for just one thing.

“Make me a woman of the word.”

I knew I was a woman of worship.  Worship sets my soul ablaze.  I connect with Him in music, in song, in the midst of the guitars and the piano and the drums and the bass and the other singers. God’s people singing together, hands lifted, eyes closed. My friend Nicole once said- “It’s your happy place.” And it is. It’s where I feel most whole.

It’s where I feel close to His side. Drawn up like a beloved child, safe in the shelter of Abba’s wings.

How He loves me.

worship5 worship4 worship3 worship2 worship

I knew I was a woman of prayer.  I’ve been talking to God all day everyday for as long as I can remember.  Back when I was little and I didn’t quite understand who God was and what it meant to be His…still I prayed.  I chatted.  I gave Him a to do list and I gave Him a  wish list.  I asked Him questions.  When I was a bit older and traveling dangerous paths…I still found Him in my days, still offered Him my to do list and my wish list.  Still asked Him hard questions and even though I feared the answers…I didn’t stop asking.  I’ve worked and lived as a prayer missionary. A handful of years of prayer and worship as a vocation.  What sweet years, what an honor to live that calling for a season.  As a mother, goodness knows I’ve prayed and I pray.  Salvation, joy, peace, knowledge of Jesus over my sweet six.  As a wife I’ve prayed.  Through a hard marriage, through a divorce and now with my second marriage and for my sweet husband…the priest of our home.  I have prayed.

I’m a woman of Prayer.

And how He loves me so.

prayer2 prayer

But I was not a woman of the word.  I did not love to study the Bible, to read it…And though I tried and tried…I just couldn’t make myself a woman of the word on my own steam.

I did so many different devotionals.  I tried so many Bible plans.  But my eyes just glazed over and I just could not get there.  And I was ashamed of that.  Embarrassed by it.  Shouldn’t a lifetime, career Christian love the Bible?

And it’s not that I didn’t love it.  I cherished the word of God and loved to go to classes where someone else taught me about the Bible.  Just couldn’t get into that whole “Eat the Scroll” thing.  I didn’t crave it.  I didn’t even really want to read it.  In fact, given the choice, I’d choose “Chopped” or basically any HGTV show over Bible time.

truthzone

And I cringe even writing that because what will people think???? But I have to live as though I don’t care what people think because I just really don’t want to care about what people think.

And maybe I’m not the only one.

So.  About 13 months ago, I heard two women say these words:  “I am a woman of the Word.”  And these are two real, authentic, honest women who love Jesus with real love. And something about the way they said that stirred something in me.

I prayed, “Make me a woman of the Word.”

And I continued to doggedly try to make myself a woman of the word the same old ways.

insanity

It didn’t work.

May became June, the summer zipped by, then the fall and the winter. Christmas came and went in a whirlwind.  It snowed way too much.

Two things happened.

1.  John accidentally bought me a journal with no lines.
2. I got the flu.

I was stuck in bed for TEN DAYS.  As a mother of any number of children will tell you, be it 1 or 10, momma in the bed for ten days is super impractical.

But God used that time for good.

He met with me there, in the quiet of my room and we communed and something happened.

I read a book called Every Bitter Thing Is Sweet and I journaled like crazy.  In color.  With a pack of pens that John got for Christmas.  And I found that I liked it. I liked all that color on the page.  I liked what the book did to my heart.  Through tears, God and  I worked through so much hurt.  (P.S.  If you have ever suffered in any way, read that book.)

I would show you a picture but I’m not entirely sure where I’ve laid that journal.

I showed John my journal and we talked about the happy “accident” of the unlined journal…so that I could write in color and all over the page.

And he showed me this:

heathergreenwood-John1-artworship

He had seen it on interest but it came from Here.

I was intrigued.  And I began a Pinterest search for “Bible journaling”, “Bible Doodles”, “Illustrated Faith”, “worship art”.

I learned about Valerie Wieners and her artwork.

valerie

I learned about Shanna Noel and Illustrated Faith

illustratedfaith

I learned about loads and loads of Mommas just like me who were loving this idea of meeting with Jesus through creativity.

And something clicked in me.

The old ways didn’t work for me because my brain doesn’t work that way.  But this new way was just what this crafty, flighty, ADD, creative brain needed.  And I was in love.

In love with the word.

And my first attempts were…well, Lila or Claire could’ve done a better job.  But I didn’t care.  This was me, the Word and God and I was having a ball.

I drew and drew and drew.  I filled a sketchbook.  I got myself a journaling Bible with plenty of space. I  began to play with paint and colored pencils and every kind of pen you can imagine.

I found out that I love watercolor paints and Micron pens.  I found that Inktense pencils are my favorite. I found out that I love drawing and painting on paper and in my Bible.  And, it got better and better.

My extremely artsy twenty something daughter told me that the work was good.  My husband (who, among many other things has an art degree) said the same.  People began to ask me to make things for them.  People began to offer me real dollars to make things for them.

And I just kept right on drawing and painting and all of that.  My Bible is getting full and I know I will need a new one soon.  I love it so much.  The great illustrations and the really awful ones…they all speak to this new love I have for the Word.

It’s such a gift.

And here is the absolute best part.

This gift came along when I was sick and in bed.  Forced into rest.  This gift progressed as the arthritis in my knee grew worse.  I was forced into rest.  This gift sustained me every day when I was forced to slow down, to be still, to rest.

Because He loves me so.

He’s given me this, this study of the Word in images and in color…He’s given me this to make those times when I must be still sweet.  He has given me, at forty two and after years of walking with Him, a new way to meet with Him.

It’s infinitely sweet.  It shows how He cherishes me and delights in me.  Because he knew how it would trouble me to have to be still.  He knew how hard it would be for me to rest.  He knew how I would absolutely loathe slowing down.

So he gave me this.  I could not draw a circle in December.  Did not know watercolors from acrylics.  But now it’s part of my everyday and I look forward to my quiet time.  I look forward to opening up the word and seeing how it will come alive today.

He’s made me a woman of the word.

See many of my Doodles here.

Bless and Keep, Lord

blessandkeep

The other day, as we drove home from Roanoke, our conversation turned to heavier things (as it always does on long drives).  John said something about the day he was saved by Grace, the day he reached out to Jesus and his life was changed forever.  And I don’t have a day like that. I grew up knowing the God of the Universe lived in my heart.  I made a decision for Him so far back, I don’t remember it.  I’ve had to reaffirm that decision over the years, but God just has always been a real Presence for me.  I can remember feeling Him all around me, even at a very young age.

So, that bottom lines to almost 42 years of being a Christian.

But all of a sudden, my faith has become so much more simple.  All of a sudden, I am learning all these new things.  And all of a sudden, I’m figuring out that I have always made it more complicated than it really is.

I read the Word as though i’ve never seen it before and truth leaps out at me.

I pray these simple, simple prayers.  Lord, be my helper.  Lord, bless them and keep them.

And that Numbers 6 prayer is what is on my mind.

I’m the mother of many, as you know.  Six souls that mean the world to me.  Six people who delight and irritate and bless and cause angst.  They are six of the most exquisitely made, creative, interesting and lovely people there are in the world.  I would want to know them even if they weren’t mine.

But having six pieces of your heart growing up and wandering around unattended in the world causes fear and that is what I’m thinking about this morning.

On Facebook, I see scared mommies sending their sweet babies to kindergarten for the first time.  To high school.  To college.  Kids gaining independence and growing older and as they grow…we have to trust the work we’ve done and God on High to bring fruit.  We have to let go more and more and let them try to fly.

And it scares us.  Because we are more invested in their futures than we ever were in our own.

And we know that sometimes they will fall down.  And they may fall hard.  And we don’t want that for them…never mind that we know in our hearts that falling down is sometimes where we’ve learned most.

God has given me a peace in this prayer I pray over my six, every time they come to mind.

Lord bless them
And keep them
Cause your face to shine on them
Lord, be gracious with the light of your countenance
Give them peace

Because that covers it all.

Lord, bless them.  Bring good to their lives Lord.  Bring fruit.  

And keep them.  Is there anything we want more for our babies than that they know the Lord?  That they know that true love and mercy?  God, let them know you hold them in your hand and will not let go.

Cause your face to shine on them.  Lord, let them experience your glory in their lives.  Let them know that they walk in the light.  Use your Holy Spirit to keep them in the light.

Be gracious with the light of Your countenance.  Lavish your love on them God.  Pour out who you are on their lives.  Bring so many opportunities to know your light and your love.  

Give them peace.  There is no peace without Jesus.  Jesus has redeemed. He is true peace.  He is the peace that passes all understanding and that is what i want for my six.

It’s happening.  They are growing up.  It is happening in every moment that goes by.  Every year, another birthday, another grade in school, more and more independence.  It’s happening.  It’s good.  But it’s scary and it’s hard.  Holding a newborn, up all night…it suddenly seems somehow easier than waving good bye as that very same baby drives away in a car.  We are in this place, no matter what, because signing up for that newborn means signing up for the kid off to college.  No getting out of it.

We don’t have to just wave good bye.  We can pray and release them and trust them to Him who loves even more fully and more deeply than we do.

Light of Your Face

 

God With Us

It’s early, early morning and that fat orange cat is meowing on and on.

I give up and rise, opening the door to let him out of our room, he looks back over his shoulder, clearly expecting me to come along.  Sad meows.  

I shut that door right on him and get back in bed but my mind is up for the day.  So many things to think about, so many needs to pray about.  A little girl in China, waiting for her family, a family in Newport News waiting for one last hurdle clear so they can go to her.  Sick little ones, big decisions, friends moving, friends facing scary situations, our Eli in Italy or who knows where, having an adventure.  So much to bring before the Lord.

I hear more and more meowing outside my door and rise again, coming downstairs to start the day.  May as well.  I unload the dishwasher and continue my string of prayers and hallelujahs.

I think about how He just IS.

 godwithus

Emmanuel, God with us.

I think about how Lazarus, my fat fluffy entitled pile of kitty meowed and meowed and meowed to get me to wake up.  How he had to persist, standing on my chest, meowing in my face.  Meowing at my door.   

He sits nearby, watching me…wondering if I’ll get the grand idea to feed him soon.  Every so often, he meows again.

But I woke right up and started talking to God who moves at the sound of my voice.  He was present with me, in me, all around me.  I don’t have to beg for his attention, cry for his attention.  I just have to speak.

God.

God with us.

This truth shines so bright this morning and I am moved and humbled.  This very One who set the stars, who filled the oceans, who designed each and every one of us…this One is always with me.  He just IS.  He does not change.  

God with us.

God with me.

Lazarus looks at me with big orange eyes.  I pet him and he purrs. 

Tell The Truth

There’s something I need to say.

Sometimes Christians are the world’s biggest liars.  We say that we are “too blessed to be stressed” or that “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle” or that we are confident that “this too shall pass” or that “God will work everything out to our good.”  It’s like we think that if we say things are horrible or sad or too hard that this somehow diminishes who our Great God is.

So…we all have this internal struggle.  We all do.  Whether it’s with doubt or addiction or circumstances or broken hearts or hard times or injustice or whatever.  Sometimes we absolutely and most decidedly are NOT too blessed to be stressed.

Sometimes I’m really freaking stressed.

Sometimes I’m really hurting.

Sometimes I’m really sure that I Can Not Do This.  (Whatever it may be.)

I read an article on HuffPost this week called “The One Things Christians Should Stop Saying” http://www.huffingtonpost.com/scott-dannemiller/christians-should-stop-saying_b_4868963.html and it stirred something in me.  When did we stop speaking the truth?

I want to tell the truth because I need you to pray for me, give me a hug, share YOUR story with me.  I need to make room for God to deal with my heart.  A heart that is all tangled up in lies is not a heart that is open for healing.

I think I know why we do this…
1. We want to be strong. This is a tough one for me because my life heroes are strong Christian women with unshakable faith and determination and wherewithal. And I want to be like that. But I’m learning (oh, so slowly) that being honest and being real is a sort of strength. Being brave enough to face what’s happening with honesty and authenticity, being willing to be uncomfortable but true…it’s the Sacred Scared. Sacred Scared  Somehow, we’ve convinced ourselves that strength, even false is more valuable than vulnerability.
2. We don’t want to make a mess. Facing our fears and our emotions and our hurts and our struggles is super messy. Feelings might fall out all over the place, tears might flow, we might do the ugly cry. We might make others uncomfortable. We will have to clean up the mess.
3. We don’t have time. We are so busy, running so fast and so hard that we don’t have time to stop and ugly cry and lay in the floor and process. We have to get this kid to ballet and this kid to soccer and hubby has a meeting and we have choir practice or PTA and we have to finish the project and we have to bake 87 muffins and we are busy, busy, busy. Too busy, busy, busy.
4. We are afraid that if we tell the truth, that it’s a bad ad for our Faith. We are afraid that if people know that being a Christian does not guarantee ease and deliverance and sunshine and rainbows, no one will want to sign up. We are afraid that if we tell the truth, that it’ll seem like we don’t have faith, that we don’t trust Him. We are afraid that if we tell the truth, He won’t seem good. Or maybe even that He won’t BE good.

But the thing is…He is always good.  He can never be better, He can never be worse.  He will never love us any less and He will never love us any more, because His love is perfect.  What we do…what we do can NOT change who HE is.

donotchange

 

God can handle our weakness.  He can handle our brokenness.  He wants to tend to our wounds.  His Spirit is like oil poured out on our broken places.  We have to tell the truth and be vulnerable and be authentic.  This is how it gets better.  Because He is with us.  He is always with us.

And I know how much I love it when people tell me the truth.  “How are you?”  I’ll say to another mommy and if she says, “Just great!” that’s just fine and we hang out and have a pleasant time.  But if I say to another mommy, “How are you?”  and she says, “Yesterday, I cried the whole time I made the peanut butter sandwiches.”  that’s a whole other kind of visit.  I can commiserate with her.  I can give her a hug.  I can pray with her.  Give advice.  Just stand with her.  There’s solidarity in that kind of honesty.  Love flows easily when it has an open and honest riverbed to flow through.

Sometimes things are Just Fine.  And when they are, that’s when we need to reach out to friends that we suspect are NOT just fine.

We can do this.  We can tell the truth.  Don’t worry, it won’t make God any less God.  It won’t make us any less Us.

Say Something