Learning to Wait

It has been 15 months since our town flooded and I was diagnosed with Lupus.

I am learning that God is not constrained by my time schedule. He does not feel the clock ticking as I do. He is free to do as He pleases. As strange as it sounds, this gives me hope. Not only because he is good, but also because he knows better than I do.  

Sometimes I’m tempted to believe the last 15 months have been wasted time. If only I had better health. If only I had the comforts of a house. And I forget that even now I am where God wants me to be.

Jeremiah Burroughs in his book, The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment,  says:

Be sure of your call to every business you go about. ...then, whatever you meet with, you may quiet your heart with this: I know I am where God would have me. Nothing in the world will quiet the heart so much as this: when I meet with any cross, I know I am where God would have me, in my place and calling; I am about the work that God has set me.

I believe that God is sovereign over sickness, natural disaster and even the setbacks in our home repair. Sometimes when he calls us to bear a cross, we don’t need an exit plan so much as a content heart. This is one of those times for me.

I find comfort in the fact that sitting here in this “camping house” (as my three year old calls it) with my inflamed toes and a sluggish body is exactly where I am supposed to be. He has crowded me here.

The Pitfalls of Parenting Out of Fear and Peer Pressure

I have discovered, much to my shock and dismay, that I am officially a Helicopter Mother. My natural tendency is to hover over my kids, micromanage their days, and if I was physically able to, I would probably be teaching them something at every moment of every day.

I know I'm not alone in this. A trip to the local play park confirms it. There are parents following their kids around narrating their every move or teaching them songs and rhymes while they play (usually loudly so that everyone knows what a good parent they are.) It seems like I am constantly surrounded by supermoms.

Keep reading here.

Becoming Who You Already Are

I recently celebrated eleven years of marriage to a wonderful man. As I look back over my life and marriage, it's amazing how much God has taught me since those days of honeymoon love.

Fifteen years ago I sat on a noisy, crowded bleacher, watching my first rodeo in the afternoon sun. I felt like a foreigner. Truth be told, I wouldn't have been there if not for a handsome cowboy entered in one of the categories. I vividly remember one thing: the way this particular cowboy's hair—dark and thick and a little bit long—glimmered in the sun with each buck of his horse.

Keep reading here.