My kids hate waiting for me. I can’t say that I blame them, because waiting is hard sometimes.
If I’m standing at the sink with sudsy soap hands, washing dishes and they need something- a help, a listen, a look- I might often say “hold on just a second.” Being interrupted is a difficult thing and I don’t think I do a perfect job of this. I try to be gentle but firm, and establish some good boundaries. I get it wrong often. But I also distracted way too easily and I find myself leaving a trail of half started unless I’m determined to do otherwise. So I have learned to try to finish the ONE task I’m directly in the middle of. If not allll of the dishes, the one.
They may whine a bit or a lot depending on how long they must wait, how pressing their need feels or appears. I remind them waiting is a part of life. They have some of the utmost priority in my life, ranking highest except their two fathers, earthly and heavenly. They are invaluable and important. But that doesn’t mean they get to interrupt or erupt into every other project, with their current one asserting the most imminent importance. Because they must use manners. Because their problem might be or might not be something to drop everything else for. They are a part of a team. And they can’t always see the whole picture.
They don’t see that while they’re waiting for me to untangle their knot, I’m washing their favorite dish or spoon for later. While they interrupt and need help opening their snack, I’m making their more nourishing dinner.
When they get restless I try to gently remind them. That while they wait for me there are things they can do. I used to say to my toddler, who would be hanging by my feet as I stood at the kitchen sink or the counter- mixing, baking, working. “You can sing a little song, you can dance, you can play while you wait. You can read or tell me a story. But you just can’t whine.” Sometimes my gentleness sounds more like scolding or using a booming voice. To snap through the noise of their whining. To remind them to stop. To look around and to listen.
As they’ve gotten older, I’ve asked them to pay attention, look around. “See what it is I’mDoing. I might already be doing what you’re whining about. Just notice, please, before you start whining. Even if it’s not what you’re looking for me to do, it might be important, what you see.”
They also don’t see what my mind’s eye is looking at, they don’t hear my important thoughts. What I’m figuring out, solving, listening for. And that’s okay. That’s not their job to know, it’s mine to finish. Or at least to witness.
I have parent things that I’m doing or involved in and it’s okay if they don’t understand.
When they were littler, too little to reach the counter, they could only wait. Too little to truly help. Now that they can help more, I remind them that’s a part of it sometimes too. But the best help is noticing, truly, what I’m doing first. No, please don’t open the food coloring and start a science experiment without my blessing. No, don’t argue with each other. No, don’t whine at anyone. Tell me how you feel when you have my attention, but don’t just fuss. Sure, you can help me with the dishes. Sure, help your sibling if you can. Sometimes, help yourself too. But notice. Always notice, first, what I’m doing. How it is I’m loving you, and working on something already. Notice. And then, when you see how you’re loved right now, you can help love, too. Even as you need, or think you need something different too. If that’s not true of us as adults, too. I don’t know what is. With our Heavenly Father, we wait for Him to move or act or do something. He’s already doing something. Unlike me, He ALWAYS knows what’s most important. He always goes and moves in the right order. I get restless as a child. Impatient. I can’t see up on the counter, what He’s doing or why it’s important. More important it seems, than whatever my tangled knots are. I can’t see. So many things. We have this new saying in our house. When things get heated between siblings, or we feel frantic. SLOW DOWN. Knee jerk reactions or a hurried pace can sometimes cause more harm than the help that we seek. This is true for all humans -kids, adults, parents, all of us. With each other, with ourselves, and with God. When we want others to hurry up and we rush them, we cause more trouble than we help. I do guilty of that at times. True for when we’re waiting on God, too. When we want Him to hurry up, Thats when we need to slow things down for ourselves. To slow down. To stop. look. listen. To breaaaattthhhhhhheeee.
To sit like a child, at the feet of the parent who loves us. (And the feeling is more than mutual.) Slow down. And notice. In fact, come and rest. Relax. Rest from worry.
He loves you and He sees you and He can untangle every knot. Look for what He’s doing already now. Because maybe that knot isn’t such a big deal after all. And He’s working on something better. Knowing in your mind’s eye, if not in your body’s, that He works ALL things together for good. Maybe not how and when it is I’m frantically asking. But for good, for our betterment, and our truest delight, not just our temporary one. That we can trust. Because He loves us.
Yes. Come with your requests. Come with your needs. But slow down, enough to see what He’s working on. And yes, He’s working all this together for good. Whining is never a part of His equation and it doesn’t have to be part of yours either.
Maybe you could just rest to begin with.
Sing. Read. Tell a good story. Dance. You can wait with trust, and JOY, even. Because kid, He’s got you. This great God? He’s got you, if you let Him. Don’t forget. You can sit at His feet and notice something good, while you wait, too.
I’ll admit. Last night I had a real good cry over someone on the internet I never met. Well, but for a slight introduction there.
But it wasn’t what you might think. I wasn’t offended. They weren’t some big celebrity. Or even a feel good story. It was just a girl who was some other girl’s best friend. She was diagnosed esophagus cancer and at 35, with a one month old baby, was told she had a year to live. The friend was looking for idea s to help make the time memorable, memorialize the mom. Many chimed in with beautiful ideas. I couldn’t help add much to that but I asked for her name and told her I’d pray for her. And I meant it. I set my alarm to go off at 8:05 am every morning to pray for Sarah. And I did. Every time I saw it. Most prayers were brief. “Lord be with her.” “Lord reveal yourself to her.” I meant to pop back in and check in -on her and the friend. Life gets busy and I didn’t yet. Last night the friend popped up in my feed. Her friend had passed. She said thank you for all of the prayers and good ideas. She had run out of time to do them all 😭😭
One month and ten days after reaching out. One month and ten days of the alarm. One month of brief prayers. And the young mom passed from this life. I sobbed. I don’t know her. I don’t know the state of her heart or mind or soul when she passed. Mostly, I don’t know if my prayers were enough. 😭😭
Friend I don’t want you to get this mixed up. I am not feeling sorry for myself. I am not being emotional. I just don’t know if I did my assignment well enough. I thought I had more time. Isn’t that how this life works anyway, though?
I had a good cry with the Lord. I didn’t know if what I asked for in prayer was “enough”. I mean it feels like I was just priming the pump in a way. If I had know…. maybe my prayers would have been more intense. If I had know the time was so brief, maybe my prayers wouldn’t have been.
None of us know these things. When where why how what. I only know one. Who. Jesus. And the more I talked about with him, bawled my way through the open night sky, the more I was reminded. He doesn’t need big prayers. He just needs an invitation. And really, what bigger prayers is there than “Lord, come.” “Lord, be.” “Lord, show.” (I’m bawling all over again.) Because He is so willing and He is so loving. And don’t I think He will do it? Don’t I think He was just waiting for an invitation?
I don’t know whatever happened with that friend. I don’t know how the story ended here or what her next chapter looks like. I just know that however “imperfectly” or “not enough” I did my small task, I know I did all I could really ever do. I invited the Lord to go and do His. And that, my friends, is the best thing we can ever do.
John 14:25-26 “But when the Father sends the Advocate as my representative—that is, the Holy Spirit—he will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I have told you. I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.” Holy Spirit, our advocate. Come and be with us, and teach us, show us how to pray. That no matter how big or small our words, to invite you in is all that we really need.
The boots sit on my counter this morning, taunting me. Asking if they should stay. The very question I am asking myself. I even sent a weekend text, to my mom and two sisters with a picture, asking only, “Boots?” Implied- should I keep them?
I don’t normally care enough to ask for feedback. It’s just that I hadn’t really asked for them. It started when they arrived at my door, with a package of a few items to try out. They weren’t expensive, per se, but more than I was thinking of spending on any boots right now. In fact, I wasn’t even thinking of buying any boots at all. All of mine fit and looked fine, and I don’t get too fussy these days. Thank you very much, but one cute pair is probably more than enough. I told my husband as much and I think he wasn’t unpleased, really, and maybe even relieved, at what I wouldn’t be buying and the cost I’d be saving us. But after I said, “no, thanks” to them, I questioned.
For a half minute. Then I sent the text and waited to hear. The answers wouldn’t necessarily be mine, I was just curious. Uncharacteristically so, even. What ensued was a whole line of questioning.
“Are the comfy?” “Will you wear them?” “Where will you wear them?” “Will you wear them often enough?”
Volume versus cost versus price versus practicality versus fun. Fashion, function and form battling it out like it’s some kind of contest, or at least a conquest. The girls gave them the thumbs up, though I still wasn’t convinced either way.
But these boots, trying inch by inch, we’re trying to get closer to my heart, and to get on my feet. Undecided, I left them out overnight. Today was decision time- return or keep.
This morning was like many other mornings, contemplating all of the things in prayer and later, in conversations. The social issues, the emotional, physical and spiritual wellness of our kids. The desire that I have to be sure to lead with love, but also to stand up and fight what’s wrong, so it doesn’t stay wrong. (Not people, things. Ideas. Policies. That’s my take at least.) Trying to move forward in integrity, in alignment with the calling to love and serve. Trying to figure out what that looks like, hour by hour, day by day.
Coming back into the kitchen from buzzing about, I see them again. Waiting. Looking at those boots again, standing like good little soldiers waiting for the decision, I hear the words from two years ago. Words that I said in a different conversation, a different context, but that still stand out, still ring true today. The answer to what we need in the world.
WE NEED LOVE WITH WORK BOOTS ON.
Then immediately I think of the scriptures that I came before my eyes this morning. Psalm 103. The one about listening for his commands.
“17 But the love of the Lord remains forever with those who fear him. His salvation extends to the children’s children 18 of those who are faithful to his covenant, of those who obey his commandments!
19 The Lord has made the heavens his throne; from there he rules over everything.
20 Praise the Lord, you angels, you mighty ones who carry out his plans, listening for each of his commands. 21 Yes, praise the Lord, you armies of angels who serve him and do his will! 22 Praise the Lord, everything he has created,
I don’t know if the scripture is talking only of angels. I mean, I’m not sure what the author intended, and maybe it was talking only about a gels following His commands. But I also know that those who follow Christ, the same can be true for them. We can listen for His directions, like Samuel, “Speak Lord your servant is listening.”
Or how in Proverbs 8, Wisdom says “And so, my children, listen to me, for all who follow my ways are joyful.”
So yes, it can be true for us too. We can listen for and do as He guides us and shows us. Optional. It can be.
He does not force us to do what He wants. He is not some tyrant, the likes of which we see here on earth. Not a tyrant that comes to the earth, in force, He is a loving kind and gracious, and He invites us to work with Him. We too, invite Him, just as He invited us- in Love. So many blessings are promised to those who seek, and I go in search of more scriptures about this, to understand more, more about these assignments.
He does not force us to do what He wants. He is not some tyrant, the likes of which we see here on earth. He is a loving kind and gracious God, who invites us to work with Him. Invites us. Yes, He has good, and wonderful plans, but He needs humans to want, and to be a part of them. To seek Him and His ways. So many blessings are promised to those who seek, and I go in search of more scriptures about this, to understand more, more about these assignments.
Then I come across this beautiful scripture . This is exactly it. (And I also immediately have a new life verse, describing my heartbeat, His heartbeat assignment.)
“The Sovereign LORD has given me his words of wisdom, so that I know how to comfort the weary. Morning by morning he wakens me and opens my understanding to his will.” Isaiah 50:4
There are assignments that each of us have, and a million causes trying to get our attention. Feeling pulled recently in different directions, I was talking to Him about it. “The world will play your headtstrings and leave you feeling frustrated and defeated. When you stay connected to mine for you, there will always be Hope.” The key then is to make sure we’re letting Him inform our heartstrings. For every assignment comes with strategy to fulfill it and Hope to know it can happen.
There is so much to see and to say and to work for. Good causes at every turn. The question isn’t just what is to be done, or what can be done. But what am I supposed to do.
Love is a very patient and thorough advisor, and wisdom along with it. What I don’t get the first time the Holy Spirit will show me, again and again, in different ways. Like these works boots, for example, trying to speak to me for two years about assignments. Love always tells a better story, uncovers the one I was missing, the heart beating just beneath the surface of things. I can only put my ear to better listen.
Each day, yes, each day, “God what do you have for me today. What are you wanting ME to do? What is your heartbeat for me, and for those around me, those in my sphere of influence. What does Love have to say today, and what are my marching orders?”
It’s not just “marching orders.” It’s a beautiful invitation to be a part of what God, in His great Love, is doing today. To go where and to do what we are being invited to do and say and go. Love puts on work-boots.
I look at those boots again. I think of all the same questions that were asked of them naturally, last night. Do they fit, are they comfortable. Will you wear them? Where will you wear them? Are they worth the cost?
And that one stands out the most. Are they worth the cost?
I think about the one last thing my sister said. “A good pair of boots you’ll wear for 10 years. It’ll be worth it.”I look at those boots again and I see it. Love with work boots. Assignments. Cost. Comfort. And the one thing that matters most. “It’ll be worth it.”
No cost is too high if God is calling you, and any work of love will last, well beyond years. Because Love remains. Long after the boots fall apart, long beyond the assignment that brought it, long even beyond us on earth.
Sometimes a thing shows up on your door. An assignment, a task to walk in , a call to wear something, to do something. And you don’t know why or how. You didn’t even ask for it. You didn’t even “need” it. But for some reason, someone must need it. You hear it. You’ve been listening and these new work boots, the ones you didn’t even anticipate, God is calling you put them on.
It doesn’t matter even if anyone else likes them. You can now, you do slip them onto your feet. Because once you count the cost, you MUST.
Whether or not you know where they will take you or how long it will go on, you must walk in that direction. Day by day, hour by hour. Asking the Lord. “I sought the Lord and He heard me. He delivered me from all of my fears.” And sometimes He will use you to deliver (FREE in some translations) other people from theirs.
We wrestle not against flesh and blood but we fight for love and for truth, and to help free people from bondage. There’s all kinds of bondage, so which one is God asking you to help people find freedom? What love boots are yours to wear, what are your marching orders? What wonderful works of the Lord is your life meant to show? Show people. The people trapped in bondage. The people whom God never gives up on. The only question is: Do we?
If there’s something you’re called to do today in love, if there’s an invitation you have to participate in Christ bringing reconciliation and hope and healing to a hurting world, do it. Do it well. And don’t worry about the cost. The reward lasts for generations.
Love goes on. Love marches on. Only question is, will we march with it? Will we help bring it? Beautiful are the feet that bring good news.
“Wake up, wake up, O Zion! Clothe yourself with strength. Put on your beautiful clothes, O holy city of Jerusalem, for unclean and godless people will enter your gates no longer. Rise from the dust, O Jerusalem. Sit in a place of honor. Remove the chains of slavery from your neck, O captive daughter of Zion. For this is what the LORD says: “When I sold you into exile, I received no payment. Now I can redeem you without having to pay for you.” This is what the Sovereign LORD says: “Long ago my people chose to live in Egypt. Now they are oppressed by Assyria. What is this?” asks the LORD. “Why are my people enslaved again? Those who rule them shout in exultation. My name is blasphemed all day long. But I will reveal my name to my people, and they will come to know its power. Then at last they will recognize that I am the one who speaks to them.” How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the messenger who brings good news ,the good news of peace and salvation, the news that the God of Israelc reigns! The watchmen shout and sing with joy, for before their very eyes they see the LORD returning to Jerusalem. Let the ruins of Jerusalem break into joyful song, for the LORD has comforted his people. He has redeemed Jerusalem.”
Annoyed that I had to be reading, scouring through the hundred pages of the new rules that are proposed for New York State. Combing through the legal language and coded words, ones that would directly impact my family.
Annoyed to read the words “expand the department’s oversight” Annoyed to read about new measures, two years later, for expanded powers of the state to quarantine, contain, and isolate, etc individuals.
Annoyed that I had to trade in time and attention for the very kids whom I was trying to look out for.
Annoyed to see the pictures of the governor maskless with school children, smiling beneath a veneer of teeth and a system that has failed them over and over these past two years. Beyond, really. Who shuttered doors, handed out iPads and kept kids away. Then brought them back with masks, are still masking and want to keep it that way for the foreseeable future. Who want to give shots – on school grounds, if necessary- and call themselves heroes. A capital that says “we will do everything in our power”, and then continually attempts to keep increasing their powers.
Annoyed that my kids see me annoyed. Annoyed that we there even is a fight at all.
It makes you wonder sometimes. What is it that we are even doing.
And then I look at my kids faces. The ones were masked, swabbed, distanced, and separated more times than we can count over the past two years. Who missed more school than seems possible. (But that part is really alright.) But all, more than really seems justified, looking back, and definitely more than seems justified looking forward. The ones the state wants to make rules for, more rules, extending to wherever they go.
The ones that like to dress like superheroes. The ones that like to dream and ask questions.
And then it all makes sense.
They deserve superheroes dressed in regular clothes who dream and ask questions now. I am not one. We are just parents walking in our superpower. To speak up for and advocate for our kids. I am not annoyed. I am emboldened. I am a adamant. Purposeful, yet again.
Yes I am annoyed at parts of it Annoyed to have to keep talking about it, annoyed at the noise and drama of it. Annoyed that some think it’s overreacting. Annoyed that the questions are being called dangerous.
It’s enough sometimes to makes you want to turn it off, shut it down and play Uno. (And we did, we played together, we told stories over dinner. And we did what families do. )
But I will not shut it off completely. Because this is not a game.
No matter what criticism, or what watchful judging stares. >>Because those are not the watching eyes that matter. << Because there is no harm in asking questions; there is only harm in not. Because among other things, <<>>>. All of our kids are. And someday they will have questions about all of this, too.
These kids that dream of being superheroes. That do not belong to the state. They do not belong to us. They belong to God. And we have them only, on loan, by His grace.
I’m going to have to give an account for whatever I did or didn’t do to help them in this world, and for whose side I was on. It better be theirs, and God’s. Not convenience. Not programs. Theirs.
So no, I guess I am not really annoyed. Not for having to stand up for them.
That is my right AND privilege. I do it passionately, but hopefully, with great love.
They deserve us asking questions and they deserve us trying to figure out what’s happening. These kids deserve the best possible future. They don’t deserve us handing over their futures to “that will never happen”. The past is too vigilant in telling its stories of things gone wrong when no one was looking. Of governments growing in control while no one was looking. Playing chess while people played uno. We shouldn’t turn a blind eye or a deaf ear. Not this time.
I’ll be over here in my corner doing what I feel I need to, being a voice for their future. Praying like crazy. Telling good stories ourselves, to them. Much like all of parenting, we don’t need to be perfect, we just need to be present and aware . A watchman for them.
Our kids are too precious to not ask the questions, to not have the discussions, to not scour the data and pages, looking for answers, maybe asking more questions. Speaking up. For them. I applaud those who did it for others, who help to interpret. They are doing good, good work.
Because our kids deserve to tell good stories themselves, a lot of them. Stories of life and love and freedom. Stories that make things right. Superhero stories.
You can do or not do whatever you think, too that’s totally your call. Stare if you want even.
I’ll risk being “wrong” in order to help them live right.
When I was writing something yesterday, those words stood out, and hung heavy in the air. I’m not going to say I came up with the beautiful phrase. It was something, hovering, and I just caught it.
I was writing about purpose, and walking in yours. (Again, as is the themes it seems. What can I say, the world needs YOU🤍🙏🏻💪🏻.)
Yet the “pen” wasn’t only about a pen. Sure, I use one to write a lot of words. But you write too. Even if you don’t think that you “write”.
You write with every spoken words. With every embrace. With every turn of your head, every glance of your eyes, you tell a story.
What is your story?
Well, what was once your bed? What maybe still kinda is? What’s hurt you or held you back or been a source of shame or limitations? It’s not meant to stay that way.
It’s meant to be your pen.
“Pick up your pen and walk” holds an echo. Of this story 👇🏻
“Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”
“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.”
Now there is so much here. It is ripe for the picking. But the main point for now is this: The man was sick for 38 years. He had no one to help him get well. Jesus just had to speak to him, to tell him to pick up his bed and walk. And he was healed.
Some of you have been sick for thirty eight years. And you have no way, no one to help you to get to the pool and get well.
The man sat under five columns (5 often stands for government or worldly structures). We put so much in these broken systems, the ones that are failing us, at every turn, when what we really need is an encounter with Jesus.
The One who makes His sick friends well. Who holds the world in the palm of His hand.
Here’s the best part. The man didn’t even know it was Jesus at first. He was blind and lame. He didn’t have to see physically to understand that those words, His words, held weight. When he heard them, he felt them. He felt something different. He didn’t have to understand how it would even work in order to accept the words.
The life giving words.
He just had to do what He said.
That was the day of the man’s healing.
There are lots of different types of healing that we need in this world. What’s yours, what’s the one you need today?
Blind as you may be, hurt as you may be, reach out for Him. You can get to know Him more later. But you can still always hear His words and reach out for Him now.
In your hurt and sickness and blindness, you can still “find” Him, for He is near. And He will reach right back out for you. He will heal you, as you need it, He wil tell you, to pick up your bed and walk.
“The day on which this took place was a Sabbath, and so the Jewish leaders said to the man who had been healed, “It is the Sabbath; the law forbids you to carry your mat.” But he replied, “The man who made me well said to me, ‘Pick up your mat and walk.’” So they asked him, “Who is this fellow who told you to pick it up and walk?” The man who was healed had no idea who it was, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd that was there.”
No one has to like it. They probably won’t. The broken system of laws and rules and religion government that kept you sick? Leave it behind. Be well, now. When you hear Him say it. Listen for His words. Ask Him for it.
That is what the Father is doing. THAT is what Jesus is up to. Already, and ongoing, and it can be yours.
I don’t know how it will happen. I don’t know when. But I do know that He holds the words of life. We don’t have to know it all yet. We just have to ask Him.
What was once was your bed can now be your story. The pen with which you write a better one.
A redeemed story- of hope and love and healing. No longer sick, but well. No longer blind and lame, but healed and whole.
He, in His Love, always tells a better story. He can tell it in and through your life, too. Let Him…
Many of us have wandered from the path, one time, one way or another, I suppose. Again and again
“You tried and failed and felt overwhelmed. You walked away. Got some breathing room. Finally felt more free. You had been suffocating back there. But really now, you’re dying and you feel all alone. Not that you’d tell anyone. There’s nobody to tell. There’s nobody that can take you out of it but you.
It wasn’t me that was suffocating you. It was man. It was lies. it was you, dying in the quicksand of your own efforts. Meanwhile, all along, I was right there to pull you out. Even then, I did pull you out. And I set you free. You shook off the sand and the gunk and you went free.
But you never turned to look at me. When you walked away. you just left. Still gasping for air, when I was right there longing to give you fresh breath. I let you go. I couldn’t make you stay. But I never let you walk alone. When you turned to a path of solitude, I left you space. But I never left you alone. I was right there down the way. Keeping my eye on you. I wouldn’t leave you there completely alone without a guide. There, you wouldnt let me guide you or help you, but I never left. You took me to a lot of places I didn’t want to go. But love wouldn’t just leave you there. It pained me to watch you walked a stony, winding, twisted path and see you stumble along the way. But how I longed to pick you up and carry you. Sometimes it got so bad that you did. You had stumbled and fallen, and you were badly injured and hurt. You let me pick you up and carry you. And I did for a while. And how I loved it. I loved it. I loved it. I could feel you did too. But after a while you wanted me to put you down, to let you go. And so I did. I will never force you to be carried or guided by me. But I’m always right beside you willing and longing to help.
I know you, like a child, like to do it on your own. To make a way on your own, to be sincere and true.
But there is nothing more true than being guided by my Love. My love for you. It will take you places you could never go alone. Places your hurt won’t ever carry you. Places you were meant to run, not only stumble and trip. A path that’s true.
How I longed to help you. How I longed to show you a way, guide you along the very best one. But you refused. When I put you down, again, you refused to turn and to look at me with much more than a nod. With a wave, you were off. I held no grudge, only sorrow and so much love that it only hopes for a chance to give more. You glance at me, sometimes, a reassurance that I’m still there. Snd I was and I am and I will be until your journey’s end. But there are paths not taken, dreams that will fall away to the side, eventually, if you refuse to really look at me. More than a glance. If you really look at me long enough to know me, to trust me. Trust me enough to let me guide you. Not just in the little thing or the big things. In all the thing. I long to show you the way. A better way. Not if your choosing, but mine. Not based on your weaknesses or your comfort. But only on my strength snd my love. On my hope. I see the way forward. You can trust me. I can take you there. Will you let me guide you. Will you let me love you. Will you let me hold you, even if it’s just for a little while. And maybe even more. You were never meant to go it alone. I’ve always been there every while you’ve felt so alone. Look. I’m right here. Look, love. Let me love you. Let me help you. Let me guide you along a perfect path that I’ve made. Just for you alone, but never, not ever, alone.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love.