When my husband texted me and said “Hey babe, I’m giving a homeless guy a ride. I’ll be home soon” I didn’t bat an eyelash because that’s just like him. I also trust my man to make wise decisions. I prayed for his safety {of course} and then patiently waited for him to get home so I could hear the story.
The young man he helped out walked into our church at what just so happened to be the middle of worship rehearsal on Thursday night. He was simply in a situation he never thought he’d be in. He’d been walking for two days without food or water with all of his belongings strapped to his back. He’d been sleeping in the woods on the side of the road. He didn’t want money, but only asked to borrow my husband’s phone to make a call. In addition to that phone call, he was given a full belly, a pair of brand new boots, a gift card for food the next day, and “oh yeah, I hope you’re not mad, but I put him up in a hotel for the night.” I’m sharing this story because, yeah I’m a proud wife & want to lift up my man. But I’m also sharing it because I hope it might challenge you as much as it did me. I don’t know about y’all, but I’m really good at halfheartedly asking the Lord to “present me with opportunities to share Christ with someone” and “set up a divine appointment for me today,” and then chickening out when He actually does it. I’ve mastered the pattern of “seeing needs” and quite frankly, ignoring them, but patting myself on the back because “at least I noticed! God opened my eyes!” Geez, what a load of crap. I need to do better than that. We need to do better. With all the violence and hatred that’s prevalent in our society today, people often talk about how the world is dying. The world isn’t continually “dying around us” in sin. IT’S ALREADY DEAD. Dead and damned and without the hope of Christ the Living God who has overcome. How’s that for a dose of reality? God placed this person in front of my husband; but my husband still had to make the decision to act. God worked it out so that the pair of hiking boots {still in the box!} in my husband's office were the exact size shoe of his new friend; but he still had to offer them as a gift. God allowed the drive-through to take an unexpected 20 minutes, which gave my husband a chance to share his testimony & the good news of Jesus Christ; but he still had to be bold enough to use his words. Living on mission isn’t all about the “wow God” stories of radical obedience like this one. More often than not, it’s a consistent commitment of saying simple yesses. Yes to what brings life. Yes to what magnifies light. Yes to things that will hold eternal significance. No to self and all the other distractions. Let’s go beyond “seeing needs.” Let’s see needs and MEET THEM to the best of our ability, even if it inconveniences us or means we’ve got 60 less bucks to spend that month. The Holy Spirit will be our barometer for discernment on whether a situation is dangerous or not. Friends, Christ IS returning. The cancer of sin is always bringing destruction in the world. Why do we continue to harbor the cure inside the safety of our pretty “Christian” communities? We must share Jesus. “Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!” -1 Corinthians 9:16
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For obvious reasons, this is my favorite portrait session I have EVER done. Photography has been a passion of mine for several years now, but this session brought it full circle. When I first picked up a camera, my only desire was to learn how to capture everyday moments in a raw, extra-beautiful way. The intention was simple: for my family's personal memories' sake. Taking my daughter's newborn photos made me realize that I had done it! I've made that dream a reality. Funny story: the first time I tried to take these, I thought I'd get a few of her cute lil' bare bum. I had the shot all ready, fed her so she would be sleepy, set her down on the soft blanket, and... ...she peed. *Cue falling curtain as the screams commence and all hopes for photos being taken that day die* {my girl hates being wet & will let you know about it, diaper or no diaper} So, it ended up taking us a few days, oh well! Needless to say, I have a new & grand appreciation for the mamas of my former newborn clients. It's tough work getting a little babe camera ready! I have to admit, there were several other outfits, props, and poses that I wanted to capture and didn't, but seeming as this little bee will be a month old next week, I wanted to go ahead and share these true "newborn" photos where she's under two-weeks-old. I'll save my other ideas for future sessions of my princess. I have prayed for Ada Bee for years; even before I knew my husband's name! She is certainly a gift from God. That's why this adorable onesie from Saved by Grace Co. is so special to me There is a small error in the Scripture reference, which should read 1 John 5:14-15. It says, "This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him." I am so grateful that the Lord has blessed us with this precious girl's life. Isn't it marvelous, the fragility of new life? Such beauty, such grace, such perfect creativity displayed by our heavenly father.
You don't want to miss out on the rest of this cuteness! View the full gallery here. “For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” -John 1:16 When I look at my daughter, I see a tangible example of God’s grace. Yet another blessing that I do not deserve; a gift I have done nothing to earn; a rare treasure. Evidence of his grace has marked my life in so many ways, and it was present all throughout Ada’s birth as well. I was pretty open about my desire to have a natural childbirth throughout my pregnancy, so many people have asked my husband or myself how it all turned out. While the short answer is “basically nothing went the way I planned apart from not having a c-section,” I experienced God’s presence in a powerful way, and his grace was over our family the entire time. For that, I am grateful, and I was reminded again how God’s plan is always good. For those of you who are interested, here’s the longer version: On Friday, January 12th, I had been up all night about every 2 hours to use the restroom. I figured I must have been really warm, because I was extremely sweaty to the point of changing my clothes each time I got up, which was out of character for me up until that point in pregnancy. Just before 7am, it dawned on me that what I was thinking was “sweat” this entire time may have actually been me leaking fluid. I knew I needed to call the doctor, but I was also fairly confident that they would ask me to come in, and I hadn’t finished packing the hospital bag!! I peeked in our bedroom and saw a very peacefully sleeping hubby. I didn’t have the heart to wake him yet, so I calmly finished gathering our things into the bags and began asking the Lord to prepare my heart for this day. I know everyone talks about false alarms with your first baby, so my head told me it was just that. In my gut, however, I knew this was it! Planning to have a natural labor, remaining calm was key, because it would likely be a looooong time until true labor started. By 8:15am, a few other funky symptoms of early labor started showing up. I started having some cramping, and I had finished packing. Jordan started to stir, so I gave him a kiss and woke him up by saying, “Are you ready to have a baby today? I think it’s happening.” We called the doctor then, and they said that unfortunately, we couldn’t come in until 10:30am to get checked out because there wouldn’t be a provider there until then. Still completely calm, we ended up at...you guessed it...Chick-fil-A...for breakfast. Yes, not kidding, we literally went inside the restaurant & casually ate CFA while unbeknownst to the both of us, I was in labor. HAHAHA. This was God’s grace #1, because everyone knows chicken minis are the Lord’s food, amen? When we got to the doctor, they checked me and said that basically, I was in early labor and had become effaced. They did not check me for dilation because they didn’t want to risk infection, and sent us home saying that my water hadn’t broken & gave me instructions to wait for contractions to get stronger. Once they reached 1 minute long, 5 minutes apart, and that was consistently happening for 1 hour, I was supposed to call the hospital. God’s grace #2, because in hindsight, I think the doctor was wrong about my fluid level... We got back home somewhere around noon, and it was pretty much business as usual. Fridays are Jordan’s day off, so we hung out, watched a little TV, and tried to relax, but I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Again, because I was trying to prepare myself for natural labor, I downplayed EVERYTHING. I knew this was gonna be a marathon, so I told myself that my “discomfort” couldn’t really be that bad yet. I also wasn’t recognizing my contractions as contractions because they were completely unlike everything I’d ever heard described by anyone. Honestly, this just proves that every woman experiences labor differently. Every ounce of my irritation was focused directly on the center of my lower abdomen. I never had the wave feeling people talk about, or a targeted muscle group tightening up and then relaxing. I just had a stabbing, twisting pain in my pelvic area that lasted for about 30 seconds and then went away. My “discomfort” {I refused to use the word “pain”} intensified gradually the entire afternoon, but because my maybe-maybe-not-contractions weren’t lengthening, we just kinda waited. Around 3:30 that afternoon, I decided I was going to take a warm bath to loosen up a little. While in the tub, I noticed that my stabby episodes were becoming a lot more frequent, so I started timing them. It was also getting much harder to deal with them. It took a lot of effort to concentrate on breathing through them. Sometimes I could talk through it, but other times I couldn’t. I looked at the app on my phone...THREE minutes apart. Consistently. But only lasting 30-45 seconds and of varying intensities. So at this point, I was just epically confused. I didn’t want to be the girl that cried wolf, but I also didn’t want to be the girl that delivered her baby on the side of the road in 30 degree weather, ya know? I phoned a friend who had birthed a human already, and asked for prayer & a little advice. Hubby convinced me to just go ahead and call the hospital to see what they said. I had to leave a message with a nurse who said the doctor would call me back in about 30 minutes. Although it felt frustrating in the moment, it was really God’s grace #3 because it bought us just a little more time... I “relaxed” for a few more minutes and then decided I should get ready while waiting on the doctor to call back, because my gut told me it was almost time to go to the hospital. I came back into the living room to let Jordan know what the deal was, and while standing in front of him, we both witnessed a relatively-small-but-prominent-enough-to-raise-alarm gush of fluid come out of me. Eyes wide and mouths open at each other, “let’s go!” was the immediate consensus. I kid you not, 15 seconds later the doctor called back, 100% confirming we needed to come to the hospital. For some BIZARRE reason, likely related to all the information we’d heard from other people about first time parents getting sent home from the hospital when they think they’re in labor, we weren’t actually convinced that they would admit me, and didn’t call our parents yet!! HAHA. The last thing we wanted to do was get everyone all excited and then have to go back on it. So we just waited... By the time we got to the hospital, I was tip-toeing around the word “pain” and feeling pretty shocked and scared by how much it was unexpectedly hurting. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of a warm up into hard labor, I thought? My body refused to relax, and it was already getting very difficult to find a good position to cope with my “stabbing episodes.” For some crazy reason, when they checked me in triage and informed us that my water had definitely broken and they would be admitting me right away, Jordan and I looked at each other dumbfounded. Sooo, what I take from that is, when your water breaks, it’s not always like a levee giving way all at once, and sometimes it’s not even a constant, long trickle {both of which were the only scenarios described to me beforehand}. It CAN happen little by little, over a period of hours, with a final small burst at the end {or at least, that’s what happened to me!} This is the biggest example of God’s grace to me in our whole story - his protection over Ada during the many hours that my amniotic fluid had been slowly leaking. See, we knew I had a very minor complication in my pregnancy that meant I would need to receive antibiotics throughout labor that would protect Ada from getting sick upon delivery. We also knew that once my water broke, that risk for infection increased. When I was admitted, I had only dilated 1 cm. Because of the complication, the doctors started me on fluids and the medicine right away, and told me that they could give me two hours to see if I progressed on my own. If I didn’t, they would have to start me on pitocin to speed up my labor for Ada’s safety. I was very unhappy about this, as I knew having a natural childbirth on pitocin would be basically impossible. I gave them a little pushback, and they agreed they could give me four hours instead of two...but that was it. The nurses and staff were absolutely amazing though. I really felt like they were on my side and wanted me to succeed. They respected my wishes, but they just wanted to do their job to keep me and Ada safe. We informed our families that the real deal was happening, and got settled into our room. Nurses came in to introduce themselves and ask me the most basic questions, but it was becoming more difficult to concentrate by the minute. I was hurting, BAD, but still trying to be really strong and downplay every contraction. Those four hours were miserable. I mean honestly, it was torture. My sweet husband was the only one who could really see through my facade, and graciously kicked everyone out so I could suffer privately. As awful as it was, I was getting pretty excited! With the amount of pain I was in, I figured I had to be dilating pretty quickly. My guess was that I was around 5-6 cm, and I planned to grit my teeth and push through the last 4 to have my natural birth! So, when the doctor came in to check me and informed us that I was only TWO CM DILATED after the four hours, to say I was devastated is an understatement. We had to start pitocin for Ada’s safety. There really wasn’t another choice. My water had broken, and the risk of infection was too great. I was also trying to figure out how on earth I could survive 8 more cm of dilation with the amount of pain I was already in. I felt so defeated, and asked the doctor if there was something wrong with me. I couldn’t understand why it hurt so badly. She was so caring as she explained what was happening in my body since my water had broken, and how there was no protection anymore. She affirmed that what I was feeling was so much more intensified, and how only 10-15% of women’s water breaks before their labor begins. She was gracious and understanding about my wishes for natural birth, and gave us a moment to think it over, but strongly encouraged that I get the epidural because in her exact words, after the pitocin kicked in, “Honey, that s*** is gonna hurt.” To be honest, I felt like such a failure in that moment. Before, I really trusted that my pain tolerance was high enough, and given the right circumstances, I could handle natural labor. I know it doesn’t matter at all to some people, but it really did to me. And I was disappointed. Thank the Lord for my husband. He was SO supportive, told me how much of a warrior I had already been, spoke truth over me that I wasn’t a failure, and that God has provided modern medicine for times like this. He said it was going to be okay, and he was proud of me. I was SO scared to get the epidural. Honestly, the thought of getting a needle injected into my SPINAL CHORD caused me far more anxiety than the pain of childbirth. I was legit freaking out inside...but again, God’s grace was available for me! I was having a very hard time staying still through contractions at this point, so I prayed like crazy for Christ’s power to remain calm long enough. They placed it on the first try successfully, and I began to feel relief very soon after. Although I felt a little down on myself still, I knew it was the best decision. My body was FINALLY able to relax again, and I slept! Boy, I did not realize how much I would need that sleep. I absolutely hated the fact that I had to get pitocin. God even covered that detail in his grace in that Ada did not react well to it and her heart rate became concerning, so they turned it down to essentially nothing! BUT, because the epidural helped me relax, I went from 2cm to 9cm in three hours! The doctors and nurses were completely shocked when they came in to check me. We couldn’t believe it, but we were SO excited to meet Ada. The final jump to 10cm took less than an hour, and it was time to push! While waiting on the doctor to come back, I started pushing with the nurse. In about 20 minutes, Ada’s head was THERE! Our poor doctor barely got her gloves on in time to catch Ada. Two big pushes, and she was here!!! January 13th at 6:20am. It was the most breathtaking moment, and a surreal evidence of God’s grace - new life, by him and sustained through him alone - just like the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ. And looking at that perfect little girl in my arms, I was blown away by how he would use ME, such a sinful and broken human being, to bring his beautiful creation into this world and allow me the opportunity to care for her as my own in this lifetime, even though she belongs to him. If that’s not grace, I don’t know what is. I didn’t get my dream natural childbirth surrounded by worship music, essential oils, and a peaceful environment, but that doesn’t make my experience any less of a miracle. Instead, the Lord chose to guide me through the fire and show me how he would still be there. It was 100% worth it.
I am SO thankful for our Ada Bee’s life. She has taught us so much already & brought us so much joy. I know she will continue to be a light for so many. Her birth story is not what I had designed, but that’s exactly the point - it’s what our sovereign Lord designed from before the beginning of time. He held us both safely in his grace amidst all of the uncertainty, pain, and altered plans. At the end of the day, what matters is trusting him and his way, for it is undeniably better & more beautiful than anything we can craft in our finite minds. My most precious Ada, Welcome to the world, darling. It must feel exciting, and a little scary to be here, everything so bright and new to your senses. As I read this to you, I’m aware that hearing my voice is one of the only familiar experiences you’ve had in your short life thus far. I’m sure most everyone feels like a stranger to you right now, but that’s not really the case for you and I, is it sweetheart? I suppose that’s one of the unique gifts God gives to mommies, how our bond begins before anyone else. It’s hard to put into words how eager I’ve been to meet you out here. Now that I’m holding you in my arms, I’m definitely speechless, captivated by everything about you. There’s a lifetime of developing, growing, discovering, learning, and experiencing just waiting for you up ahead. Most of it will be confusing, and you need to know that’s okay. You’re not alone. I’m here for you. Much of what the world will show you is beautiful, but there are a lot of things it will try to tell you that are unfulfilling and dishonest. So, baby girl, I want to send you off on your journey being confident of this one unshakable truth: You are fully and completely loved. Before I married your daddy, people said to me, “You think you love him now.” They were right. I remember the day I met him, how our eyes caught each other from across the classroom, and the overwhelming feeling of needing to know him that hit me with unrecognizable force. I remember having those first few strictly class-related conversations, eventually becoming friends, and the moment he asked me on our first date. I remember those early days, when we were wild and free together, driven by what sounded fun and not yet bound by the responsibility of adulthood. I remember how awestruck I was when he played guitar & sang to me. I thought I loved him then. I remember the day that I made a horrible mistake, fully expecting our potential future to be ruined and lost, and the devastation that I felt in my heart. I remember how instead, your daddy showed me grace, and we fought to move forward together. I thought I loved him then. I remember the moment he bent down on one knee and asked me to be his wife. Hurricane force winds & a wall of fog at the top of the mountain kinda ruined his initial plan, but he's a great improviser (; Our families & best friends celebrated together, and I thought I loved him then. I’ll never forget the day I put on a pretty white dress and pledged before God that I would be your daddy’s teammate for as long as we both lived. It was a magical day, an absolute dream come true. I thought I really loved him then. I’ll always treasure the memories we’ve made over these past two years of marriage - falling in love with Guatemala together, eating a little too much pizza and watching a little too much TV, expanding our family with the four-legged fluffy creature over there in the corner that never leaves mommy’s side, and a whole bunch of other normal stuff that feels extraordinary, simply because of how fun your daddy is. I thought I loved him then. I remember the day we found out about you, little bee, and how our hearts exploded with joy when we saw yours beating for the first time on that monitor in the doctor’s office. Daddy didn’t miss a single one of your appointments while we were waiting to meet you, and he prayed for you and me every night before we went to sleep. He could always get you to dance around in my belly with “the wave,” and he didn’t complain when I was too sick or tired to make dinner. He made sure his girls ate as much Chick-fil-A as we wanted (; And I thought I loved him then. Just like I thought I loved you then. I thought I loved you when I saw the word “pregnant” show up on the little stick. I thought I loved you when you still looked like a little tadpole and you waved at us during that first ultrasound. I thought I loved you when we found out you were a baby GIRL, when I felt you moving for the first time, and when you really started to grow visibly, pushing out my tummy as far as it would go! I thought I loved you when I heard the sweet rhythm of your perfect heartbeat after you scared me one time that you weren’t okay in there. And I thought I couldn’t possibly love you more than the moment I held you in my arms for the first time, your eyes searching for mine.
But I was wrong. Just like with your daddy, my capacity to love you becomes greater with each passing day we spend together. The more I get to know you, and the more time we have, the more my love grows. I love you as much as I possibly can in this moment, yet I know that love will only continue to expand. You wanna know something crazy though? God’s love for you isn’t like mine or daddy’s, Ada. His love for you will not expand. It will not grow more as you spend time together. He will not reflect years from now and say, “I thought I loved her then.” Because God’s love for you, unlike my human love, is perfect. It is boundless. It is not dependent on circumstances or emotions. It is not determined by anything you do or don't do. It cannot wane, nor can it amplify, because in and of itself, it is full and complete. Ada Bee, if there's one thing I want you to know to the depth of your bones as you enter this crazy world, it is the foundation of God's love for you. I want you to know that daddy and I love you unconditionally with all of our hearts, and we will protect you with a purposeful fierceness until the day we die. You are safe with us, yes, but it's not enough for you to know our human version of love. Instead, what will anchor you in your darkest moments is believing the reality of God's perfect and complete love for you, just as you are. You were personally thought out and woven together by him, his creative handiwork behind every inch of your body, mind, gifts, and personality that we have yet to learn all about (Ps. 139:13-16; Eph. 2:10). You are a treasure to him simply for being created. Your value is not determined, nor up for debate. There is nothing you can do to make him love you more, so you don't have to strive to earn affection from him {or anyone else, for that matter}. You can rest in the security of his love, sweet girl. At the same time, there is nothing you can do to make him love you less. Your sin will break his heart, yes, but it has already been covered by his blood that he shed when dying to win you. You don't have to live with shame, guilt, or regret. Just run back to Jesus, always. It doesn't matter what you did, he isn't going anywhere. Let this magnificent love draw you to the heart of our Savior, and to repentance. Believe this truth, baby. If you grasp this one thing, it will alter the direction of your life from the start. You won't have to walk through some of the same hardships that mommy and daddy did. You'll have your own struggles, I know this, but I pray that you will be more equipped to handle life's curve balls than I was. When you trust in Christ's love for you, Ada, you will know God's plan for your life, and you will walk in it boldly, because you'll know his plan is best. That's what I want for you. I think I love you now, Mommy <3 The star of the show has arrived, friends!! The inspiration behind the blog decided to join our world on Saturday morning, January 13, 2018. Born at 6:20am, she weighed in at a whopping 6lb 2.8oz, and was 19.5 inches long. She is perfect and lovely in every way, and her daddy and I are completely obsessed with her. Watching God bring new life into the world and knowing that He allowed you to play a role in that is a marvelous experience. My labor & delivery did not go the way I had expected or planned, yet He remained faithful. My "birth motto" per se was simply "Great is Thy faithfulness." Probably my all-time favorite hymn, the lyrics replayed in my mind continuously during the days leading up to Ada's birth. These first five days of motherhood have been amazing, beautiful, and yes - difficult. Our journey with this sweet little human we've been entrusted with is just beginning, and I'm confident that it will our most extraordinary adventure yet. I love you, Ada Bee. And thank you, Jesus! <3 Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be. Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness! Morning by morning new mercies I see All I have needed Thy hand hath provided Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me! Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth, Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide; Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside! All white everything, natural elements, and a hint of girly flair was my vision for our sweet babe's nursery. Jordan and I had so much fun putting it together for her! All of our {okay, mainly his} hard work has finally paid off, and now we're just eagerly anticipating our little bee to get in there & mess it all up! (; One of the parts of Ada's nursery that I love so much is how many personal touches there are woven throughout. For example, her dresser belonged to my Pop-Pop {Ada's great grandfather!} and was refinished by her daddy, so that's extremely special. We found the antique trunk at the building which now holds our church's new multi-site campus, and rescued it from a trip to the landfill. The canvas with Ada's name on it was gifted to us by a dear friend and co-worker, who has prayed for us from the very beginning of our journey with this little girl {love you s'much, Tay!!}. The chair and ottoman was a total God thing! I never realized how daggum expensive those nursery gliders or recliners are. Like...anywhere from $300-$600+ expensive. We were storing up our gift cards and waiting for Black Friday deals to come around, and then while visiting a Goodwill in Asheville the weekend before Thanksgiving, stumbled upon this bad boy. It was in PERFECT condition {just needed a little shampoo & love!}, and so so comfy! When I saw the $49 price tag for both the chair AND ottoman with hidden storage, I nearly started to cry. I'm completely overwhelmed by the Lord's continual provision for us during this pregnancy! Is anyone else a sucker for details, or is that just me?! Like this adorable door-hanger given to us by Ada's uncle Brent & aunt Bethany, the sweet woodland creatures mobile, succulents that we planted in white teacups, and the monogrammed "A" from my talented friends over at Shiloh Collection {go buy their things!}. Ahh, I feel like I could go on and on about every little inch of this precious room. There are several other meaningful pieces & gifts from family that I didn't mention, and the stories of how it has all come together are endless! Oh, do I love this little space. It might just be my new favorite room in the house! Which I guess is a good thing...cuz I'm about to be spending a lot of time in there. Jesus, I pray that you would bless this nursery with your continual presence. Let it be a room full of peace and security in you, even amidst difficult nursing sessions, chaotic periods of seemingly endless crying, messy blowouts at the most inconvenient times possible, and all the other unpredictable moments of mommyhood. I ask that you place angels at every corner, in front of both windows, the door, and beside the crib where she will sleep, protecting our baby girl at all times. As worship music and lullabies play over her, may your Spirit already begin wooing her heart to yours before she even recognizes the depth of her sin and need for you. Draw her to yourself, Lord, that at an early age she would accept the gracious gift of your salvation, and that with her life she would serve you wholly. Thank you for the joy she has already brought into our days, and I pray that she would be a beaming reflection of your light in this dark and broken world. We love you, Jesus. Use us, imperfect parents as we are, to raise Ada in a way that honors you. And use her life to glorify yourself, for that is the entire purpose of our existence. Thank you for this undeserved gift. Lead us as we begin this journey. In Jesus' holy name, Amen. New Year’s Eve has always been one of my favorite nights of the year. Call me a slave to the cliche, but there’s something about the clean slate of a new calendar year {new, cute planners, helllloooo} and the inherent fresh start that always makes me feel so inspired!
Even though I love NYE, I’ve never been a huge “resolutions” girl. I just don’t really believe in them. For me, they’re not healthy, because resolutions kind of have a pass or fail verdict attached to them. Let’s be honest, most of the time, it’s failure. Instead, I’m big on reflections. With each new year, I love to reflect on what worked, what didn’t work, and how I want to G R O W in the next season. Striving for growth isn’t only healthy, but biblical! We are commanded all throughout Scripture to grow in grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, for His glory (2 Peter 3:18). Jesus himself was also portrayed as an example of continual growth in Luke 2:52; “And Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man.” Over the past few years, the idea of a “Word for the Year” has become popular. I’m a massive fan of this idea, but I’ve never participated in it, simply because I've never felt the Lord speak to me specifically about it! I didn’t just want to pick a random inspirational word and then try to craft some uber-spiritual reasoning behind it. If I was going to have a word for the year, I wanted it to be genuine. All of that being said, this is the FIRST year I’ve heard specifically from the Lord about my “word,” and I’m really pumped about it! STEADY. steady (adjective): direct or sure in movement; firm in position; showing little variation or fluctuation; not easily disturbed or upset; constant in feeling, principle, purpose, or attachment synonyms: unfaltering, fixed, stable, dependable The Lord gave me the word “steady” after reflecting on Jeremiah 17:7-8 for the past several months, which declares, “Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.” These verses encapsulate my #1 goal for motherhood: trusting the Lord. Simple concept, right? You’d think it’d be pretty easy to execute. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself over the past few years after stepping into adulthood, it’s how little I truly trust the Lord on a consistent basis. So often, I am just flat out terrible at it. I want to control everything in my life, freak out over the smallest hiccups, and let fear & anxiety rule me far too often…each of which are signs that I’m not truly trusting God, but instead myself, my abilities, my circumstances, or my people. Walking into motherhood, that’s a MASSIVE red flag of sin that shows up on my radar. When I think about 20+ years from now and how I want my adult children to remember me, I desire for one of the first thoughts to pop into their minds to be: “No matter what happened, we always knew that mom trusted God. Even when things were hard or didn’t make sense, mom reminded us that God was good, His character could be trusted, and to place our hope in His sovereignty. We knew she really believed it, because she was steady in her faith and her actions proved her vigilant in her pursuit of Him, always.” If my children remember some version of that about me, then I will know that I’ve done my job exemplifying a life that honors Christ to them. That’s what I want my legacy to be to them. So, how do I get there? Well, I guess I ought to start by uprooting the sin of distrust in my heart through the power of the Holy Spirit! I guess I better strive to be like the tree described in Jeremiah - rooted in the water of life that the Word of God gives, clinging to it for nourishment & refreshment; unafraid of heated circumstances or dry seasons in my life, because I’ll have my trust in the Lord. I’ll continue to bear good fruits of the Spirit, and remain fresh because Christ will be my all. And whew, as a new mom, won’t that be KEY? If there’s any time in one’s life where things probably feel unsteady, overly emotional, confusing, frustrating, and easily upsetting, I imagine it’s got to be when you become a parent for the first time. So, I’m committing to the Lord that I’ll grow in 2018 by remaining steady. This won’t be possible without Him, of course. It goes against all natural parts of my flesh. But by His power, and for His glory, I believe He will help me to remain a steady mom, even as I embrace the chaos and the unknown of bringing a little one into this messy world. Cheers to 2018, friends! I’d love to hear YOUR “words” or reflections for growth in the Lord this year. May we seek to know and love Christ more every day. I’ve been sitting here with an open laptop for about 40 minutes now, just thinking and thinking. My husband is sitting in his favorite chair across the room from me, working on a video for church, and I’m propped up on the couch with a steaming cup of hot water and honey, begging my throat to stop punishing me for simply breathing and swallowing. I’ve got an entire list of “blog ideas” on a brainstorming note, and I’d picked one out to write about this week, but something just doesn’t feel right about it now. None of the other ideas feel quite right either. But, since I’ve committed to post each week, I just thought I’d start typing and see what comes together by the time I’m done rambling. I’ve been sick for close to two weeks now. It’s just a cold (I think/hope?) but if you’ve ever been pregnant and sick, you know how it’s just extra miserable. I’ve also avoided taking any medicine for the past eight months, and have just been letting my germs and aches work themselves out. But, I finally went to the doctor yesterday, and he assured me that Mucinex wasn’t going to hurt our baby, and that at this point, I really just need to try and knock this thing before it gets any worse and turns into something that could be dangerous. SO, I bit the bullet and starting taking some meds. I’m trying to rest the best that I can and praying that I’ll be better soon. Needless to say, I’m exhausted. I just kinda feel icky and useless, and I’ve obviously got serious writer’s block. Or my brain just isn’t working well enough for me to put together coherent, inspiring thoughts for the readers out there. I’ve learned that I’m not a very good “rester.” Even when I’m home all day during the week, I can’t just lay down all day without feeling incredibly guilty and lazy. Which kinda stinks…because if there was any time in one’s life where they should get a free pass to be 100% lazy, you’d think it would be when you’re sick and eight months pregnant. I'll try to start doing better this upcoming week. This has easily been the slowest week of my pregnancy yet. Everyone says that the last two months crawl by, and I’m definitely feeling that now. I’m uncomfortable, constantly stumbling all over the place as I try to get used to my new & ever-growing body, have to go to the bathroom literally every 30 minutes, and obviously, I’m sick right now. It’s not the most fun combo, but it’s still so insanely special and I’m loving every moment of this season - or at least trying to soak it all in. I can’t stop thinking about our baby girl. I’m constantly dreaming about what she will look like, what her temperament will be, and what everyday life is going to be like with her here. I wonder about how our pups will react to her, and picture my husband holding her & doting over her. I imagine taking walks with her and the dogs at the park near our house, establishing new routines, and how much pure light she is going to bring into our lives. I anticipate the sleep deprivation, the untimely blowout diapers that will make me late for SOMETHING, the frustration when I can’t get her to stop crying, and the struggle to accept my postpartum body. And I’m pumped for ALL of it. Ada Bee is so very loved. I feel like my heart might just explode with desire to have her in my arms. I absolutely cannot wait to be a mommy. The closer we get to her arrival, the more confident I become that God has designed MY heart to be just that - a mom. It’s the only job I feel genuinely passionate about or called to. I know I won’t ever be a perfect parent, but I sure will love that little baby & desire to give her my best effort every single day. And I will love the adventure ahead.
I guess while I’m sitting here babbling, the Lord is reminding me to see His glory in the ordinary. Maybe I don’t have a well planned, well constructed, mega encouraging or challenging message to post this week. Maybe I’m just Ashley…a little run-down, scatter-brained version of myself at that. And maybe that’s okay, because when you commit to share your life and journey with others, there’s some moments that feel dull. Being sick and dreaming out loud about my baby as she dances around in my tummy (very visibly, might I add…like seriously she might bust out any sec) is super ordinary. Yet, in the normality of it all, God’s glory is evident. To know Him and to love Him leads to seeing His fingerprints all over your life. Jesus said, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). Life is glorious because of Christ’s glory alone. He gives ordinary moments extraordinary purpose. I pray you’ll notice them this week. I feel like the only appropriate way to approach such a weighty subject is with the Word of God:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace. -Ephesians 1:3-7 Context, context, context: In the two verses just before this passage, we are given important information. The book of Ephesians is a letter written by the apostle Paul to...you guessed it...the Ephesians. More specifically though, he says that he’s writing to the saints and those who are faithful to Christ Jesus in Ephesus, aka believers. SO, while there’s a lot to unpack in the passage of Scripture above, we must remember that the intended audience for these words are those who have already confessed faith in Jesus Christ, declaring Him as their Lord and Savior. That will also be my intention for this post - I’m primarily speaking to believers for this one. November is National Adoption Month, and I can think of no better week to talk about my passion for adoption than this one, as we celebrate Thanksgiving! Before opening up about my own thoughts and desires concerning adoption, I feel compelled to recognize that it was first created and ordained by God, not man (John 1:3). Therefore, JESUS gets all the glory for adoption, not the parents. It's not about us! The central idea of adoption is simply beautiful to me - that an individual or a family would willingly agree to take a stranger into their home and immediately call them their own child, regardless of any struggles, past experiences, or difficulties that child has faced, committing to love and care for them as their own flesh and blood for a lifetime. I don’t know how anyone can dwell on the gravity of that type of decision and not feel emotional about it! What’s even more stunning to me though, is that I have experienced this type of love firsthand! Glance back up at the passage from Ephesians, and let the insanity of grace wash over you, believer. GOD has done just that for YOU, and for ME. Before the foundation of the world, He chose us, with all of our baggage, to become his children through the blood of Jesus Christ! We have been ADOPTED in the most literal way! Since about my junior year of high school, I’ve known that I felt called to adopt a child one day. When I started dating my husband seriously, we had the typical conversations about what we envisioned our life & family to look like, and I discovered that he also had the same desire before meeting me! It was super exciting, and one of the many confirmations the Lord sent my way that this man was the man I wanted to build the rest of my life with. I’ll be completely honest and say that we still don’t know exactly what that is going to look like for us. Will we adopt internationally, through foster care, or through a private domestic situation? Will it be one child, or a set of four siblings? Will it be a baby, a toddler, or a teenager? Will we have all of our own biological children first? I have absolutely no idea, but I can tell you with confidence that I trust God is writing our adoption story, and we are open to whenever and however He wants to reveal it to us. And we are pumped about it; fully ready to say YES when that opportunity comes our way. Now that you know all of that about me, I have something to say. I have a strong conviction that if you are a true believer in Jesus Christ, (1) understanding how you have been adopted by God (Rom. 8:14-17; Gal. 4:4-7; 2 Cor. 6:18), (2) understanding the command by God to care for the fatherless that is clearly all over Scripture (Prov. 31:8-9; Ps. 82:3; Matt. 25:40; James 1:27; Deut 14:27-29), and (3) understanding the overwhelming need to help orphans both in our own backyards and all across the globe, how can you NOT pray and consider adoption? Please notice what I didn’t say. I didn’t say “Every Christian should adopt, period. If you don’t, you’re sinning.” What I did say was that every Christian should pray about adoption. Some people ask, why adopt? But honestly, that’s the wrong question. The question for us, as believers, should be, why not? I don’t necessarily believe that every Christian is called to adopt a child. I believe there are some legitimate reasons why certain families might choose not to - maybe age, medical conditions, marital instability, etc. But with that, I also believe there’s a large chunk of us American Christian families that are flat out too fearful, selfish, and/or comfortable with our perfect little lives to make a difference in a crisis that breaks God’s heart, and that’s pretty sad. So, I must ask you, reader, have you ever prayed about what your role in adoption and foster care should be? I mean, really prayed. Not just the casual “Lord, break my heart for what breaks yours and show me if I’m supposed to do something about this pain I’m seeing on my 15th mission trip to an orphanage.” No no, I mean have you sought God earnestly for a consistent, extended period of time, specifically asking Him not IF you should play a part, but HOW you should. Because the reality is, as Christians, we are commanded to care for the fatherless. It’s not an option, it’s a command. The intricacies of that are going to look different for all of us, but I believe with all my heart that we can do more than what we’re willing to do right now. We’re just either too scared or flat out unwilling to ask the Lord to give us a task that might make us step outside of our comfort zone. Maybe you’re really not called to adopt. That’s between you and the Lord, and I won’t argue with you about it. But maybe you are called to be a foster parent for a specific season of life. Or maybe you’re called to provide emotional support to a family who fosters and is having a difficult time. Maybe the Lord wants to use you to make a significant financial contribution towards a friend’s adoption, something more than the $20 you spent without thinking to buy a t-shirt they were selling. There’s a multitude of ways that we can step up as Christians surrounding adoption and foster care, and our creative God will certainly be faithful to show us our role when we humbly and diligently seek His wisdom. Sometime within the next 24 hours of you reading this {if you’re reading when I’ve initially posted} you’re going to be sitting around a table full of warm, delicious food, and likely many family members, remarking to each other how thankful you are for all you’ve been blessed with. My prayer is that while we enjoy the blessings and praise God for them, our thoughts will also turn towards the orphan who has no one to hug this Thanksgiving, and will eat the same dinner they do every day, because the orphanage never has sufficient funds to care for them all. I pray that our hearts will break for the child in our own city that’s stuck in yet another terrible, unloving, possibly abusive foster care situation, simply because the person that was next on the list to take them in wasn’t someone who knew the saving power of Jesus Christ like you do. Christians, we can’t celebrate another Thanksgiving in our beautiful homes with full bellies and full hearts, unwilling to pray the scary prayer that God might ask us to do something just a little bit radical for the Kingdom, and continue to call ourselves true believers. That’s just not what following Jesus is about. It’s about going out into a broken, lost, and dying world & sharing with them the glorious truth of the Gospel that changes lives through whatever means necessary - adoption included. So, here’s my challenge to us {including myself in this!}: Let’s commit to pray for five minutes every day about what God’s role for us is in all of this, from Thanksgiving until December 31, 2017. Just give the Lord five minutes a day for the last few weeks of this year and ask Him to wreck your heart with HIS plan for your life. Who knows, maybe He’s writing a story for you that you didn’t know existed. Maybe He’s just been waiting on you to ask Him to reveal it ♥ Happy Thanksgiving, and blessings! The double-edged sword of a holiday that comes once a year is just around the corner...Thanksgiving.
...which also means Black Friday. The increasing irony of sharing a meal with family, remembering all we've been blessed with and are grateful for, then turning around to immediately sell our souls to the snare of materialism never ceases to amaze me. At least a few years ago we got a full 24-hours to be "thankful" before the pandemonium began, but not anymore. Shoot, for some stores, "Black Friday" begins before Thanksgiving! I'm not saying I'm above it! I'm as guilty as the rest of ya'll, especially this year. We've got a baby on board, and there are some large items that we still need {can I even use that word, need?}. I'm hoping to get some great deals on Black Friday too! On the flip side, because we've got a baby on board, I've been spending a lot of time recently meditating on what it means to cultivate a grateful heart. I mean, what it really means. I want to be a mom that models contentment & generosity to her children, but that sure as heck doesn't come naturally to me, especially when I walk through Target. Can I get an amen & a cheers with our Starbucks cups all around? I don't know what it is about Target, ya'll, but it just slays me every time. I turn into a nasty little green-eyed monster in that place, looking at all the pretty things & feeling a sudden urge to max out the Red card and completely redecorate my entire house. It's a force to be reckoned with. Here's the thing: while I mean all of the above in a half-joking, lighthearted way, it's the opposite of lighthearted at the core. It's a worldly attitude. It's not of Christ. It's sinful, and it needs to be uprooted in us. But how? As I've considered what it looks like to cultivate a truly grateful heart, I think it comes back to a simple belief about who I think God is. Do I believe He will provide for me, or don't I? See, when I'm constantly seeking - for more stuff, for affirmation, for the deepest desires of my heart that have yet to be fulfilled - I'm not exemplifying that I believe God will provide for my needs. Did you catch that? For my needs. Not that He'll provide for all my wants, or make my life go exactly the way I've planned it. The Lord is not my genie or my fairy godmother, and this life isn't about me at all. He is the One and only Sovereign God of the universe, King of kings, Creator and Sustainer of all life itself, and I best know my place and fall on my face and worship Him. Yet as much as He is above me (Is. 55:8-9), He is also still near to me (Ps. 145:18), loving and providing for me as a father does for his daughter (Jer. 31:3; Matt. 6:25-32). When I grasp that and believe it about Him, it's changes my perspective on Thanksgiving. You see, it shouldn't even be as basic as being grateful and appreciative of all the simple blessings we have, like food, shelter, clean water, clothes, family, freedom, etc. {even though those are great things to remember!} Instead, the core of my thanksgiving should be rooted in the sheer glory of God's holiness. It's because of who HE is and knowing Him personally that we have the ability to say as Paul did, "I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation" (Phil. 4:12). He is the source. He is the prize. He is everything we need, and He knows the details of the provisions we currently lack in our lives. We can trust that He's good & faithful, holding it all together, and running the show according to His perfect will. To have a relationship with THAT God, well, that's more fulfilling than any amount of trips to Target can ever be. Lord Jesus, help this to mark our hearts in a new way this Thanksgiving, for Your glory. |
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Ashley Setterlind: Jesus lover, wife, new mama to a baby girl. Archives
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