Leaving It All Behind

We strive, we toil in this life...to attain, to get more, have more...really just to be more. We work to get a better education, so that we can get the best paying jobs. We work hard at careers day in and day out, waiting and hoping for promotions and recognition for our hard work. Often this toiling comes at great, great sacrifice of the really important things...our families, our children, our joy, indeed our very lives.

Somewhere we look up and see that we are missing the very lives we had hoped to achieve. Maybe the outer trappings are there....the big house, the nice cars, a hefty retirement, all the lights, bells and whistles on the latest and greatest "toys" the world can offer us. But at what price? Jim Rohn tells us that there is always a price for every goal that we set. We simply have to ask is it worth paying? Sometimes, I think we look up and realize we've paid a terrible price, and the goal was not worth it.

And so as 2008 was drawing to a close...I embarked on a 40 day intensive prayer journey. The joy had gone out of our family. Our eyes were empty and had lost their sparkle. Our laughter had slowly disappeared. We had lost our daddy to the daily cycle of working to live and living to work. He was depressed, angry and hurting. A numbness to life had replaced his vitality and an apathy had lodged in our home.

My prayers focused on him...and initially were for his health, his walk with the Lord, his job, his boss, etcetera, etcetera. Then about 2 weeks into my journey, I began to see the tiniest flickers of something in him...to say it was a spark would be to overstate the situation...really it was a "consciousness". Like when someone has been unconscious, and they "come to". That was all. But it was enough that it sparked my desire to remember the scripture..."the effectual, fervent (italics mine) prayers of a righteous man availeth much." What if my fervency created more effectiveness? I began to dig deeper, and press in.

The days turned into weeks, and some changes were evident....but not truly powerful ones. I was okay with that. My husband was beginning to emerge...and maybe that was all God wanted to do. So I continued on, realizing that maybe earth shattering change may not be what God desired....just seeds sown. So I rested in that and continued to pray.

Then came the 39th day....which I laughingly call the "eleventh hour". It started out like any other day, and so when my early bird Emily awoke, I took her and we went grocery shopping while daddy and the other kids slept. He did not have to leave for work until a little later and so we kind of made a day of it. When we arrived home, our dear daddy was still in bed talking on the phone. Not completely unusual for his strange work schedule....I didn't really give it a second thought. He came out a moment later, having finished the conversation on the phone....and wrapped me in his arms and began to kiss my forehead. Now this was a little unusual, and my curiosity began to wonder what was up.

What unfolded before me was miraculous and surreal. He simply said, "I'm done Kim. I am done living like this, I am done feeling like this, I am done exchanging my joy and my life, even my family for some dream that isn't really even mine! I don't want any of it! I only want laughter, and joy and peace with you and my children. That's all." Then he said with every bit of peace and joy...absolute calmness in his voice, "I want to move to Hawaii."

I had experienced a piece of what he was desiring earlier in the year when my dear friend flew me to the Big Island of Hawaii to visit her in the Spring. What had started out as a simple vacation took on a spiritual significance that had left me changed forever. Experiencing God on a level that took him out of all of my "churchy" boxes, and let him fully be the magnificent creator of a majestic universe, and to realize he was simultaneously the lover of my soul! To laugh out loud, to play hard, to stand in a waterfall and let the water drench my thirsty soul! John had watched it all from the outside...but only now, nine months later... had he said "enough".

And so we are walking away, and leaving it all behind. The striving, the toiling, ....the emptiness and the lifelessness. Jesus said, "I have come that you might have life and have it to the fullest!" We've only caught a glimpse of what "fullest" means, but it was enough of a glimpse to know that we are starving for it, and our current path certainly does not lead to it.

So far in these few days since we have decided to move...I have been overcome a few times with anxiety of the what it truly means to "leave it all behind". There have been very sad and difficult closures on relationships that I had held dear. And while the pain at times has been almost unbearable, I realize that those heart strings were cut for such a time as this. So I exhale, and let go.

Even this morning I woke up with heart palpitations and unable to catch my breath...at the prospect of selling ALL of our stuff! Sixteen years of marriage, my whole existence has been to create a beautiful home. And we will literally leave with hardly anything. How deep this American dream runs! Even when you think none of it matters and you think you could "walk away" from it all....until you actually have someone showing up to pick up all of your things...you will never know. I never knew.

But all of life is a process. And today, I look back and see the work of Simplicity that the Lord has led me down for the past ten years. A constant and consistent revealing to my heart of what was important and laying down of that which was not. Downscaling, downsizing my life...again and again. And learning to enjoy the little, near meaningless things in life...and to come face to face with the realization that they are really the ONLY MEANINGFUL things that there are.

And so as an eagle waits and waits perched patiently at the edge of his nest...my Father has brought me there, again and again, reminding me that I am not of this world and it's ways, and I was never intended to make my home in this nest. For he created me for the high places, and to get there I must wait for the wind of his Spirit and then step out into the unknown .....and soar. For eagles do not flap and strive to fly....they simply wait....and wait...and when the wind comes, they spread their wings and mount up into the highest of places carried only by the wind.

"They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles..." Isaiah 40:31

Forgetting What Lies Behind...

The past year has been a tumultuous one for me....filled with unspeakable joy, but also much sadness, pain and hurt as I am sure so many of those reading these pages have also experienced in their own lives.

Months and months of family issues, hurts, and mud slinging...had left me bruised, battered and exhausted beyond anything I could have imagined.

As the year began to draw to a close, I realized that all those months spent in tears and soul searching, in refinement from the Father's Hand, had been very needed and very transforming.

They continue. But the overwhelming weight of it all was beginning to suffocate me. To steal my very life and by definition...those around me. I looked up and realized that I was letting pain from the past....steal, kill and destroy my joy in the future. My tomorrows didn't hold promise....my days were beginning to melt into each other. I was drowning in the swirl of it all.

And in the final days of 2008, as the family arrows continued to fly, and mud was still being flung....I took a deep breath. A realization slowly dawned. I can step out of this. I MUST step out of this. And so began a few days of intense prayer, and relinquishment...letting the tears flow and letting all that was deep inside my soul...every wrong, every hurt (inflicted by me and to me), every abuse, every memory....flow out onto paper. I knew that it would not, could not ever be sent to anyone...for the damage it would inflict would be lethal.

Instead I simply wept. And breathed. I thought of the movie that is called "Waiting to Exhale"....that is how I have felt for all these months. In fact, I have felt this for many, many years. And the Spirit whispered to my soul...."EXHALE my beloved, and I will fill you with the breath of myself....and you shall breathe life again."

I took an unusually deep breath.....held it for a second...focused my soul on all the pain that it represented....and I let out a long, slow, deep exhale until their was no breath left in my body. Then....oh, then.....I took in the most gloriously deep breath! It was the breathing in of life, joy, and utter peace, and it filled my lungs to their fullest capacity!

And so as we made plans for our New Year's Eve celebration this year....I realized that this year was different than any other. There would be no baby sitter this year. There would be no "party" with friends....this year was to be ended with ceremony and intention.

After a wonderful day of family activity... laughing, chattering, delighting in each others presence, we journeyed out to the deserted lake....in the freezing cold night. We each had purchased a balloon...and had discussed at length what that balloon was to represent.

It was to represent those things that we have clung to. Those things that we have stuffed deep within us, bitterness, hurt, anger...all those things that have kept us from fully being inhabited by the Prince of Peace.....

We each chose a color to represent our pain. Mine was black...for I could think of no other color that would represent the ugly, vile and putrid things that had flowed onto my 13 page letter the day before....and attached to it...was a blood red string....representing the very blood of the One who bore my pain.

We prayed over each balloon....and then we each took a moment...and put our lips to our balloon....breathing into the balloon what we most wanted to release...to be free of. And closing our eyes, we looked up into the night....the lake shimmering below...the eternal expanse of the universe laid out before us....and we LET GO!

Tears began to fill my eyes and flow down my face! I began to tremble at the magnitude of it! And I watched as my "pain" flew farther and farther from me....so far in fact, that in just moments it was but a speck in the sky....and then it was absorbed into the glittering sky.

Absorbed by the Creator of it all! Gone forever....never to descend upon me again!

I smiled...my kids clapped joyfully!! Joy had returned to this family. Peace had taken the place of Pain....and we had closed the chapter on 2008 with finality! We celebrated with loud, wonderful fireworks and shouts of unbridled joy!

"But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ...I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me....

Forgetting what lies behind (italics added), and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

Phillipians 3:7-14

Delicious Days of Joy

These days are filled with such joy! A special packaged arrived from our beloved grandmomma who lives tucked away in the mountains of Colorado! Our hearts long for her, miss her desperately! The package was not intended for Christmas, it was sent just because I love you! Inside were some new chef's outfits...in the perfect "signature" colors of my girls. Emily...always my "purple girl" as we call her....shrieked excitedly as she donned her apron and her chef's hat! Reaghan, always my pink princess...found hers and also tied it on, pausing a moment to pose in front of the mirror to examine just how adorable she must look! I smiled, grabbed my camera and of course seized the moment for capturing some sweet memories! How is it that grandmomma's know just what will ignite the hearts of their babies? She knows them sooooo well!!

Tender memories began to fill my mind....myself a tiny girl with long brown hair, pulling up a chair next to my momma in the kitchen! She had carefully found and woven together a set of recipes that would bless her own family, and unknowingly be handed down to generations after her! We would gather the bowls, the ingredients, and work together in the kitchen creating these delectable cookies and treats together. Her careful instruction, her sweet patience with my childish attempts at cookie making. I smile. Memories of a kitchen filled with the fragrance...of cookies, but mostly of love. Love that has blossomed into a beautiful friendship!

I look around my own modest kitchen. My girls delighting in their spoons, bowls, and myriads of cookie ingredients! So with tender heart I pull down a couple of the recipes passed down from my own momma. I read them over to my girls...telling them of my own memories of these exact recipes. And we embark on our own cookie making day! Laughter fills the room, tiny voices chattering with joy over kitchen tasks...memories flood in. Measuring, Mixing, Creating....and of course the stolen nibbles here and there! I am grateful today, for my momma....for her love...for her legacy! I see a little of her in each of my girls, and I know that one day, they will be creating these same cookies, in their own kitchens, filled with love....and a heart full of sweet, sweet memories!





(Photos: Cookie Making in Chef's Outfits)

Handmade Burp Cloths

Two precious friends recently had babies...one a delicious and long awaited baby boy, and the other a tender and sweet, much celebrated, baby girl! In a labor of love, I created a gift that would be both practical and decorative....beautiful handmade burp cloths. Really, it was a gift in itself, I had every intention of putting away the sewing machine and not thinking about it again. And yet in the creating of these small gifts, I found such peace...such celebration. As the machine hummed gently along, and I watched these sweet gifts emerge right before my eyes, I found myself praying for and celebrating these tiny souls!

My thoughts drifted to my dear friends, envisioning them holding these tiny loved ones...these new, precious members of their families. Awe...celebration...and with every stitch of the machine, these thoughts and prayers were tucked inside these humble gifts.

Two other friends happened to see my new "creations", and asked if they could order a set for themselves. I was humbled, and blessed by their interest and gladly filled their request. This time I had more fun, as I embellished a little more, added a little ribbon trim and let my creative juices flow just little bit. I was finding such joy in making these little trinkets! The recipients were thrilled and thus began my tiny, home enterprise...Iva Rose Creations.

"Iva" was my dear great, grandmother who held every bit of grace and strength in her wrinkled hands. Hands that snuggled babies, and wiped tears. Hands that cooked and cleaned tirelessly for a large family and anyone else who happened to stop by. Hands that opened her home to all who needed a quiet refuge from the storms of their lives. "Iva" Robbins, a simple, ordinary and delightful woman whose very presence enriched the lives of generations of children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and even great, great grandchildren before her passing. Leaving behind her a legacy of rich memories, it is with tearful eyes that I christen these little treasures with her name...

And so I gather my fabric and quietly putter at designing something simple, but beautiful. I do not know where these new creations will eventually find their home, but I know it will be on the lap of a loving momma, as she tenderly celebrates this precious new life that she's been graced with. And as she reaches to wipe up the ordinary "messies" of this new little one, my prayer is that she may find celebration and beauty in every moment spent in the presence of her tiny angel.

Please visit Iva Rose Creations for ordering information or email me directly at

ivarosecreations@yahoo.com

Heavenly Treats

My precious baby. A delight to my soul. Always wanting to be where I am, doing what I do. A momma in training. I marvel as I watch her heart for homemaking. Often asking me in almost desperation and angst, "Momma...what should I be when I grow up, I just can't decide?!" Even in the midst of the shelter of our home, she has picked up on a worldly message that says she has to "be" something more than she is. That she has to pursue career, money, achievement... And yet her pleas come from a place in her heart; a place that craves the simplicity and joy of home. A deep and inner calling that desires to be a wife and a mother above all. And so I affirm her, and yet gently remind her that mommas get to be a nurse, and a chef, and decorator, and gardener, and a teacher. That she can be all of things things as she simply pours out her gifts into the life of her husband, and her children. Oh, but she is only five, tender years old. I smile.... she has so much time.

Yet I am painfully aware at how much she watches my every move, mimicking even my facial expressions or hand motions as I speak. She watches how I tap the wooden spoon on the side of the pot after stirring delicious soup...and moments later, I watch her do the same thing, then glancing at me with a look of satisfaction. She is delighted to sort laundry, and organize closets. She adores cooking and gardening. She is always right beside me with her little metal spade, digging, weeding and planting. She finds tremendous joy in sorting laundry, folding towels, and ironing place mats. She loves all cleaning, especially if it involves a little spray bottle! And she delights most of all in taking care of babies. She is desperate for me to have another one so she can take care of it for me! Again, I smile....what delight. What a gift.


Oh Lord, that I would find such delight and wonder in the tasks of my day. That I wouldn't view them as mundane or as a simple list of chores to be checked off, or somehow accomplished. But instead, as opportunities to explore, to find myself, and to worship you. Just as this little one is looking at me, help me to look at her and desire to become a little more like her every day.

I am struck by the scripture this morning that urges to us "make disciples of all nations" (Matthew 28:19) And I pause to think that we have so magnified those words ..make disciples, into "the great commission"...a great and ominous task. We have reduced them into a command that must be obeyed.

And yet, discipleship...is really imitation through relationship. Through continual time, fellowship and communion with another...we begin to take on their character, their nature. We find ourselves dressing like others, talking like others, even thinking like others....

I cringe at the times I've tried to MAKE myself or others a disciple for the Lord. When all the while, He only wants us hidden in deep, rich relationship with Him. And somewhere in all the time and fellowship spent with Him, we find ourselves thinking a little more like Him, acting a little more like Him. My thoughts becoming a little more like His, and my ways....a little more like ~ His. My heart learning to LOVE like He does.

As I look at this little one of mine, I ponder what she is becoming. Through time and relationship, she is becoming a follower of ~ me.

Certainly, she is becoming a disciple of the Lord, and growing up to follow hard after His Spirit...but she is following...me. She is imitating every word, every voice inflection, every motion of my hand.

As this realization begins to set it, I become increasingly humbled. The weight of the reality that my attitudes will form her attitudes sinks into my consciousness. I take a deeper look at my daily actions, words, attitudes...and prayerfully ask that they be worthy of imitation. That as this little child grows, and matures into a young lady, as she learns and develops the ideas, attitudes and skills that will shape her life...may they be that of a gentle and contrite spirit. May she smile at her tasks, and delight in the ordinary.

And so I draw her close, this little sponge of mine. finding joy in teaching her what it means to bake cinnamon rolls from scratch, and how to fold towels so they look pretty in the cabinet. How to write a letter of thanks for a graciously given gift. And somewhere, somehow, may I teach her, even in my own failure and weakness how to honor a husband, to be a helper and support. I pray that she find joy in teaching her children to read, and in helping a sick friend. And most of all, may she somehow learn to walk daily with the Lord, learning from His Spirit, and drawing from His grace.

As the fragrances of freshly baked cinnamon rolls drift from the oven, and we all gather round the table for a chilled glass of milk, devouring these delectable treats....I glance in my baby's direction. She is overjoyed at the compliments, and blessed by pouring out of herself and watching it bless her family.

"Well done, my precious girl....well done"

by the way....in case you want a little taste of heaven...here's the recipe ~

Cinnamon Rolls

1/4 cup warm water
1/4 cup butter, melted
1/2 (3.4 ounce) package instant vanilla pudding mix
1 cup warm milk
1 egg, room temperature
1 tablespoon raw sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 cups whole wheat flour (or 1/2 unbleached)
1 (.25 ounce) package active dry yeast

1/4 cup butter, softened
1 cup brown sugar
4 teaspoons ground cinnamon
3/4 cup chopped pecans

1/2 (8 ounce) package cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup butter, softened
1 cup confectioners' sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/2 teaspoons milk


DIRECTIONS
In the pan of your bread machine, combine water, melted butter, vanilla pudding, warm milk, egg, 1 tablespoon sugar, salt, bread flour and yeast. Set machine to Dough cycle; press Start.
When Dough cycle has finished, turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and roll into a 17x10 inch rectangle. Spread with softened butter. In a small bowl, stir together brown sugar, cinnamon and pecans. Sprinkle brown sugar mixture over dough.
Roll up dough, beginning with long side. Slice into 16 one inch slices and place in 9x13 buttered pan. Let rise in a warm place until doubled, about 45 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
Bake in preheated oven for 15 to 20 minutes. While rolls bake, stir together cream cheese, softened butter, confectioners' sugar, vanilla and milk. Remove rolls from oven and top with frosting.

Photo: Cinnamon Roll Baking with Emily

Called by My Name.....

Another early morning walk….earlier this time, a search for a quieter experience, proved true. As I donned my workout clothes and tied the laces of my shoes…I thought nervously, “do I really dare walk while it is still dark?” Married 16 years to a police officer will do that to a woman…caution. And so placing my cell phone in my pocket (just in case), I ventured out….The air was damp with humidity, the dogs were silent this time, no cars leaving for work, no rumbling engines, or loud highway sounds filtering into my neighborhood. Yes, still a basic, run of the mill neighborhood and certainly not the beauty that I found at Broce Ranch in Evergreen Colorado (photos)…., but instead of being assaulted by the sheer busyness….today, I felt the silence.

As my steps padded the pavement, a certain rhythm emerged, and I found myself breathing in the cool, Autumn air…and my spirit began to stir.

Initially, my prayers were for thanksgiving, for praise, …eventually they moved toward myself and my personal walk with the Lord, crying out for more of Him, and less of this world. On the dawn of this new day, I laid before Him my anxious thoughts about this new President of ours. Election reports still ringing in my ears, my gut wrenched. What will become of our nation with a man like that in office….I cried out. And yet, the gentle reminder from within that beckoned me to trust Him…for He alone has raised up this leader, and He alone knows the plan for our country. My heart sickens a little, wondering, knowing really, that humility and brokenness are the in the future for this country. The journey ahead is unknown, but I exhale…and breathe in trust…in One who knows…and who’s plan was set before the foundations of the earth. This election was no surprise to Him….He raised him up….for such a time as this. Oh America, humble yourselves, turn to the one who set us apart…return to the One…who was our first love. I ache for our nation….I ache for the apathetic Christians in our nation who have so mixed and mingled with the world that we are indistinguishable from it.

Just yesterday, the kids and I were reading how the Children of Israel, once again began to complain to Moses…even after all of Gods miraculous intervention, all of His mercy….in spite of it all…they insisted on idols, insisted on turning their hearts to Egypt, and almost welcoming(even desiring) the bondage there, over the need to trust Him in desert. And we read, how they began to show discontentment toward the manna….the very sustenance of God himself. Demanding, MEAT….Oh, how that is our nation….it wasn’t enough that God drew us out from the rule of of an oppressive England, it wasn’t enough that he prospered us, it wasn’t enough that poured out his blessing again and again…still we allowed the “mixed multitudes” to influence and draw us into discontentment. Even though slaves, the Hebrews longed to be cared for by the Egyptians, provided for….even if it cost their freedom. So it is in this modern day land of ours. We demand MEAT! We are entitled to it! Give it! NOW!

As the kids and I read this story, we saw how God granted their demand…causing the quail to fly in, in an eerie almost plaguelike moment. Has God granted our “demand”? They were giddy….catching them, killing them, gorging themselves on this “meat”….that they had demanded. And they ate, and they gorged, and they ate some more…..until they were sick. Their greediness, their desire had not seen past their instant provision….but the result of that provision was sickness, death, a plague of gut wrenching illness…..brought on by their gluttonous hearts. Many, many died….succombing to the death brought on by the very thing that they thought they wanted.

My seven year old Reaghan, during the narration, the telling back of what we had read…. Said, “even though God knew that the manna was better for them, they thought it was boring and so God gave them the meat they wanted. But sometimes, what we want is not what is good for us. They had to die before they realized they should have been grateful for the manna.” Out of the mouth of babes….

And so on this quiet morning….a silence fills the air. An entire nation of people…wait. Some rejoicing and dancing at the prospect of this new leader, and some sickened and beginning to fall on their faces before God, knowing that on some level….the nation has gotten what it asked for….and the repercussions may…be… a death to all we have known.

The words of 2 Chronicles 7:14 thunder in my ears...

"If My people, who are called by My name, shall humble themselves, pray, seek, crave, and require of necessity My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, forgive their sin, and heal their land." (amplified)

What does it mean to be HIS? Am I really...His? Is He really my Lord? Or am I “my own”? …..

My heart longs to know…what does it mean to be called by His name?

NAME in the ancient text refers to…..nature.

We use his “name” as if some magic letters J-E-S-U-S… are going to make it so.

And yet all through scripture, we see it is never that easy…as a “magic” word. When the God of the Universe “calls someone by name” or “changes their name”….He usually walks them through some experience, wereby He CHANGES their very nature into His own. An ending of the old….a death to who they’ve been, the dawning of the new…..and as they emerge out of the darkness of the refinement experience…they are NEW.

And so…I ponder this morning as my neighborhood sleeps….what is our nature? Wheat and Tares are grown up together…and only God can tell us apart.

It starts with me….What is MY nature? My heart wrenches at the realization of all the areas in my own life, my own walk…that do not reflect His Nature.

My carnal inclination is to “fix” this problem, to dust off my list of rules….the detailed picture of how a Christian should live…then grit my teeth, and make myself follow those rules. Or at least be a good “witness” by looking like I follow the rules.

But He calls me deeper….As deep calls unto deep….He says simply, COME. Come to me…drink of me….sup with me….fellowship with me….

Drawing me, yearning for me….to simply come. And in the very coming, a small piece of my flesh dies. I drink deeply of his cup….his presence, his life…and a gentle transformation, begins to take place.

No list of rules….no determination….just intimate fellowship with the Lover of my Soul!

My carnal mind screams that there is NO way, it is this easy…there must be something I can DO!

I think back to a lengthy and hard discussion had with my Brayden…my precious nine year old son….on the power of associations. We’ve always heard “you become like the people you hang around”….have we not?

I have watched as a sensitive, tender boy with natural leadership ability, has spent far too much time around others who live differently, talk differently, act differently…whose core values are vastly different from our own. And then, found myself shocked when after a few weeks of continual summer play with these same children… my tender son, now mocks and disdains his sisters. His once transparent heart, is now deceitful and sneaky. His respectful obedience to his parents has been replaced with rolling eyes, and an argumentative spirit. And the Spirit speaks….you are surprised by this? A pulling back was necessary...and just now after two months of changing the friends, limiting the influences...we are seeing the sweet nature returning.

And so, if this nation is to be transformed, if we are to see godly leaders in our nations highest offices, it must start on a heart level. For the Kingdom of God does not come through legislation….but through relationship…where those of us who call our selves by his Name….find their own “closet”, and gets intimately acquainted with Abba, and through communion, and fellowship, and stillness in His presence…He lays us bare….opens us up….and begins to gently wash, nurture and prune our lives, pouring forth Himself, and therefore His character into our souls.

And we find all of those things that so easily ensnared us…our pride, our self sufficiency, our self righteousness, our lying tongues, and our lustful eyes, our bitterness….begin to fade and be weeded out of our hearts.

And without striving, without anguishing….He says, “Be still….and know”, and we rest.

And I cry out with Much Afraid, in Hannah Hurnard's classic book, “Hinds Feet on High Places”….”Oh, Lord….tie me to the altar…that I may NOT be caught struggling.”

I so desire His nature to completely erase my own wretched one. Oh, that my flesh would die, and my ways would somehow become His ways…that my thoughts would somehow become His thoughts.

And it starts with pulling back…silencing those influential voices that sway my heart and keep my flesh alive and well….and allowing Him to draw me into the Holy of Holies. To linger there in that place, to gaze deeply and long…at His face…and to inhale His holiness, and His righteousness….

And in doing so…my name is changed….

And He smiles

Photos: Broce Ranch, Evergreen CO...nature at it's best

Wisdom Begins in Wonder

Wisdom begins in wonder.

Socrates

In the early years, when I was dabbling with the idea of homeschooling....I was very intrigued with the idea of delight centered homeschooling. I could see within my children a God-given curiosity, a wonder for the world around them. Little delights like the blue bird gliding through the sky, or the first snowflakes of winter, or even a chicken pecking around in the farmyard at the Berry Patch Farms in the plains of Colorado. It was exhilarating trying to keep up with their questions, their joys...they truly were sponges, just soaking up the beauty and wonder in the world around them... Somewhere along the way, our learning turned more structured. In my own insecurities, and my own comparisons with other moms who were, oh so much better at this than myself....I began to take on their methods, their ways...and sadly, they never quite fit our family. It was like wearing the worn, comfortable shoes....of someone else. They just don't ever feel quite right. So has been our homeschooling journey. I tried and experimented with all the different "methods" and all the while have watched the light go out of my children's eyes. The wonder, replaced with a certain apathy, even whines of "how much more?".... My heart broke. I was failing at this....My soul cried out! Lord, You called us to this... you birthed a vision in my heart... you love these babies of mine...I give up! What do YOU desire for us. And so amidst the tangled web of methods like unschooling, unit studies, Classical education, Charlotte Mason....and the countless other "methods".... I listened. A slow and uneventful season of truly quieting the voices around me. Quieting the comparisons of my own children's progress to the children of my friends.... both those who homeschooled, and those who did not. I tore up my emotional "report card" and began to look into the eyes of my children again. To remember what it was that ignited this desire to homeschool, back in those early days.

"Education is that which remains when one has forgotten
everything learned in school. "

Albert Einstein

These words echoed in the hollows of my heart.... And so the pace changed, and the days slowed, and the agendas got laid aside. And for a small season our focus has been on regaining the wonder.

I have been amazed that it truly has not taken that much....time, energy, ....mainly a silencing of all the outward stimulus. Fewer videos, fewer friends, fewer activities....More quiet, more "boredom", more creativity, more nature. I read once that a child must be "bored" for a good 30 minutes to an hour, without any outside help to entertain, suggest activities ....just all out boredom. And at the brink of all the boredom the child can stand, a miraculous thing happens... true, deep creativity is born! I have seen it with my own eyes...and marveled!

The first thing that changed in our home, was a momma who was less "driven" by keeping up....and more excited to just "be".

Most of the changes happened in me. I found the quiet center of God's Spirit in my days, and asked for eyes to "see" his magnificence in every "little" thing around me. He gave...and gave...and continues to pour the gift of "seeing" into my soul. I am changed. This gentleness, and contemplative heart that He is weaving into my soul...is making room for the mundane, the ordinary to be transformed into the extraordinary.

The two other changes that have flowed from this transformation have been a rediscovery of the incredible hand of our Creator, in none other than nature itself....His grand creation! In and of itself, it has become our great "science" curriculum... and we are soaking it up like a dry, parched earth soaks up the rain! I put the "canned" Science curriculum back on the shelf, pulled out our nature notebooks, our camera, and our backpacks...stocked with water, compass, freshly sharpened pencils, and some healthy snacks... and began to find little bits of nature hidden away in the midst of this great DFW metropolis. Our nature walks have spurned unbelievable conversations on the Nature of God, on the deep, rich truths of the Kingdom. It has made many of the parables of Jesus come alive...as we observe ants, and trees, and vines, and branches, and wheat...all the "little" ordinary things that Jesus used to teach. Divine Curriculum....

And somewhere amidst the play...Learning, real, true, "stay with us for life", kind of learning is happening. We are discovering hidden birds nests, tucked away paths leading to flowing creeks, ancient strong oak trees, and tiny colorful caterpillars. We are observing life in rotted logs, and under rocks...the things that are hidden and obscured by the casual glance. We are discovering life itself, and in that created life....we are glimpsing a Kingdom life...and beginning to lay hold of what lies before us.

The second great change, in addition to our amazing walks through nature, is the rediscoveryof great literature. Oh, I had plenty of books on my shelf, and was a great "collector" of books, yet somehow....the days got swallowed up with "real school" and assigned reading...and we lost the joy of the rich, living books. The kind that evoke thoughts, and create ideas. And so we began to read for the simple pleasure of hearing the words spoken, and watching the stories unfold in our imaginations. As I read these life filled stories, ....one could hear a pin drop in our home...as my children are beautifully enraptured in the story. And as I come to the end of a chapter...my heart soars as I hear the pleas of my delighted children....begging....for "one more chapter... PLEEAAASSEEE!" ..Okay, just one more chapter. (And I smile as I remember my own mom saying the same to me, as she fostered a deep love of reading in my own heart, in much the same way).

And so our actual "recorded" school (you know...the records you keep to show the authorities, should anyone ever ask....) are filling the pages of my planner and THEN SOME! We are steeped in scripture, literature, science, history, classical music, and the list goes on....but instead of divided "subjects", we are finding our own rhythm...a rhythm of... family... instead of school. And it delights my soul.

And while I watch other parents who have academically superior children....I think...that it's really okay, because at my very core...I am less concerned about Ivy League Colleges, and astronomical SAT scores.... what I desire is that my children maintain their wonder! Because wonder....passion....is what will catapult them into their life callings. Passion....for any subject will cause a child to soak up every last fact of that subject....and as a result, their test score will only then reflect his absolute love of the material...not what was crammed in order to pass the test.

And so the Lord beckons me to "be still and know"......"taste and see that the Lord is Good".... and I press on to offer my children the gift of stillness, the joy of discovery, and a taste for the holy....that their hunger for more will be insatiable.

Colors of Chaos

Wisdom in Simplicity. How we seek after great truths, strive for knowledge, eager to attain some elusive greatness . But I am finding that often God speaks in a whisper, and often it is in the ordinary things of our days. As my children and I have studied the magnificence of our Creator, and the majesty with which He has poured forth himself into all of creation...it only takes a moment, a stopping to observe, a lingering to ....see. So many of my days reflect a certain chaos. Not really full blown mahem, but more of a crazy mix of joys, emotions, frustrations, hurts, silliness, disobedience, repentance, loudness, refinement, struggle, smiles, laughter....the list goes on.

Oftentimes, when this "mix" of our lives happens...it just gets MESSY! Tempers flare, rash words spoken, hearts hurting. Spilled milk, dropped and shattered dish, reluctant learners, doctors appointments, mounds of laundry, forgotten appointments, strained family relationships....all become one big mixed up pot of colors. Swirling, splotching, with no pattern...just chaos. Or so it seems......

And yet as the kids dash outside after a whirlwind of paint and brushes, creativity flowing....I sigh as I realize they have left yet another "mess" for me to clean up. I smile as I look outside and see them laughing, playing, jumping together, and think that I don't dare interrupt such joy. So I lean to pick up this plate of paint...and my first observation is that it seems they have used up the entire bottles of paint...and lament at such "waste". And then I hear the whisper....

look beyond what you see

... I stop and observe this drippy mess...and think....this is such a reflection of my life. Seemingly disjointed, chaotic in it's own precious way. Our lives.... messy. I pick up the globby paintbrushes, and casually begin to stir the colors...mesmerized by their gentle mixing and swirling. Soon I feel almost rythmic as I find the joy in creating order, even design....in the midst of this chaos. At first it is a simple back and forth watching the colors and textures appear...and then I realize...TRUE BEAUTY can come from this chaos. And it did... a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, as I found delight in what I was creating....designing...causing all the colors, swirls, textures, to work together....WORK TOGETHER to create something beautiful.

My thoughts drift back to the chaotic colors that make up my life...bright yellows of my children's laughter and joy, the deep reds of the harsh words spoken that sometimes leave wounded hearts. The bright blues of peace and rest, the pure whites that are the grace of my loving Father...covering my weakness. The haunting blacks, that are the heaviness of broken relationships and lonely hearts...and out of these flow colors too numerous to mention...but all begin to flow... to work together.... Creating a masterpiece almost too beautiful to wash down the sink. And I touch the heart of God once more....

His thoughts become my thoughts. I see for just a moment through His eyes...

I glance outside again, my children playing joyfully and contentedly (for now...) and I marvel. Grace.

"We are assured and know that all things work together and are
fitting into a plan for good to and for those who love God and are called
according to His design and purpose." Romans 8:28 (Amplified)

Quiet Waters

"He leads me beside quiet
waters, He restores my soul..."

Psalm 23:2-3

Another early morning, 2:00am...sick children, the slightest sounds stir and awaken my slumbering eyes. Though I try, I cannot find sleep again as thoughts, anxieties, simple "to do" lists begin to flood my mind. I am struck this morning at the sheer "busyness" that invades our lives, and steals our peace. I have consciously simplified, intentionally chosen a slower pace, a quiet life... and still, the tasks at hand, the pressures of the world, the weight of life...seem to take me to a heightened pace that makes my head spin. Though I must say, I am growing to love these early morning hours... I am reminded of the gentle hymn which was sung tenderly throughout my childhood by my mom...

"I come to the garden
alone, while the dew is still on the roses
(that's really early morning...)

and the voice I hear, falling on my
ear

the Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me, and He talks with
me,

And tells me I am His own.

And the joy we share as we tarry
there,

None other, has ever known."

She touched something early on in her walk with the Lord, that I am just now fully grasping. The intimacy and the filling of the Lord in those early hours, the lingering in his Presence...the basking in the warmth of His Spirit. In my younger years, I "tried" it...as if it were a "to do" list, something to be accomplished rather than experienced. I expected tangible, almost audible experiences with the Lord...needing fuel for the day, for my busy...busy life. A "checkmark" of sorts. And now I realize it wasn't about my needs, or my agendas....it was about Abba's desire to pull me up onto His lap, pull my face close to His and whisper sweet nothings into my spirit.

I think of my babies... and how just yesterday, Emily just spontaneously climbed up into my lap... took both of my cheeks in her tiny hands....looked me directly in the eyes, and said "I love you so much mommy"... then planted the most tender kiss on my lips. I wrapped her in my arms, inhaled her sweetness, and experienced an intimacy that was beyond a child's hug. I touched heaven at that moment....and thought of the scripture that speaks of how much more our Father in heaven cares for us...

Life is busy, "to do" lists...must get done, homeschool lessons must be taught to eager children, dinner must get cooked, laundry must get cleaned, toilets must get scrubbed...but I long for the ability to do it all WHILE abiding deeply in His presence. Brother Lawrence writes of the ability to carry on daily, even mundane tasks yet never breaking the continual communion with the Spirit of God. He says,

"There is no sweeter manner of of living in the world than continuous communion with God."

Brother Lawrence

I long for just that..."continuous communion" with God. How often I try to fill this deep, insatiable thirst....with cheap, substitutes. I try to fill my own cup through relationships, through activity, through intellectual stimulus...and yet I am as dry, and parched as ever. And God beckons...calls unto us...as deep calls unto deep...

"My people...they
have forsaken me the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns,
broken cisterns that can hold no water"

Jeremiah 2:13

There is no substitute...busyness, activity...even religious activity...are just counterfeits for the pure, clear, living water that God offers us....in Himself.

Once again, the sun is rising outside...dogs are beginning to bark in the neighborhood, activity is beginning to stir...and while my little ones are still sleeping soundly....it is only a matter of time before they awaken...and our day will start. Yes, my list of tasks is here in front of me, yet today may I receive the gift of Grace that is given so freely. May I somehow walk out my activity...while carefully, quietly...remaining beside those quiet waters...

Practicing for Manhood

The joys of having a son is beyond words for me. From the day he was born, we have always had a special bond. He is exhuberant and curious, he is animated and thoughtful...always a joy to my heart. It has been an interesting transition as he is emerging out of boyhood and dabbling his toes in his own manhood. I have felt it on a very deep level, some with excitement at what lies before him...what he will become; and some with a little apprehension. I know that our relationship must change....in fact, will change...and am learning to flow with the dance as the steps change from all I have known and all I have become accustomed to. As he nears ten years old, there is a unique metamorphosis happening...a growing out of all that he has been, and all that we have been together. I marvel at the change, I welcome it, even through a little sadness. I have a few good friends who have been blessed with only girls, and who have commented from time to time as to how thankful they are that they only have girls...because boys are just so...uhum...different. As they have said that over the years, I have felt a certain sadness for them, because they are truly missing one of the most beautiful joys of God's creation. I adore my girls, I understand them, and I am thrilled by all of their own uniqueness and beauty...but there is something especially wonderful about boys. To watch their innate curiosity as they tinker with gadgets, or run, jump and play with boundless energy, watch their relational interraction with each other, as they practice being hunters, protectors and heroes. Imagining themselves with superhero strengths, they spar and wrestle...practicing their manliness. And then just as my son has played hard and rough...he can crave "special time" just with me, settling in for a snuggle under a warm blanket, and a good book. Freely sharing his thoughts, ideas, dreams he is beautifully verbal, and a delight to listen to as he tells endless stories, and exciting tales. I laugh as he gets carried away in his own imagination, his tempo rising, and his eyes becoming shining and animated! I can't help but get swept up into his world. I am blessed by this little man...sometimes wishing that he would never grow up, never move away...just stay mine...tender and young. And yet the days pass, and the weeks grow into years, and as I watch his height grow dangerously close to passing my own...it is inevitable. He's emerging, changing, growing into what he was created to be...a man.

Not always is this journey so simple though as sitting back and watching him emerge. It is not always accompanied by smiles and laughter...sometimes in the process of the cocoon...there is pain, frustration and tears. Growing pains of the soul...a struggle to become more. Sometimes it is loud and hurtful as hearts try to find their expression in clumsy ten year old words. Practicing manhood is messy business. Often there is a mess of shattered feelings, and broken hearts in the wake of this "practicing". Even the simple pulling away requires a certain tearing as well, and although it is so necessary, it is incredibly awkward. Hugs that used to seem so spontaneous and real in younger years, are replaced by thicker awkward movements as if the memory of how to hug, has been lost somehow..... The old passing away....my heart struggles against it. And so we dance, this tender...precious...young man and I. Two steps forward, one step back. He steps on my toes, and I step on his.

Yet somewhere in the background is the melody of life. If I can gaze into the eyes of this amazing soul, and glimpse a man...and shift my focus from my aching, bruised toes...we can dance. Bruised toes are an inevitable part of this dance....this journey out of boyhood and into glorious manhood. But I gently remind myself that they don't have to be the focus...or the legacy. My desire, my need really....is for us to find joy in the dance, repent over aching toes, and continue to flow to the melody that enraptures this walk. It is only a matter of time, before these last remnants of boyishness have disappeared. The realization that I am preparing him...readying him for the heart of another woman. I weep, and cling desperately to these last years. Breathing in his laughter, his affection...for just as the sun sets on this day...and with it all the activity that it held....we are left only with the memory. Soon...this season will be but a remembrance, and I am trusting that the joy will far outweigh the struggle.

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:

A time to to be born and a time to die

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance, (italics...mine)

a time to scatter stones and time to gather them

a time to embrace and time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and time for peace....

He has made everything beautiful in its time."

Ecclesiastes 3:1-11

Seize the Day

The beautiful days of Fall have finally arrived! It feels as if the days have slowed, and the tempo has relaxed. Our bodies long for the outdoors, the fresh air. There is always something about Fall, when the world of nature seems to be preparing....foraging...as if knowing instinctly that a new season has dawned. We took a break from our regular school schedule and sought out a quiet spot...to walk, to talk, to discover.

Lately, I have struggled with our living in a cookie cutter neighborhood, in the suburbs of the huge metropolis of Dallas/Ft. Worth. It certainly was not the dream of my heart. It was not the life I desired for my children. Concrete driveways, and paved roads, tiny backyards...all seemed to be uninspiring and creating a sort of dulldrum in our minds and hearts. I remembered reading Karen Andreola say once that they had to "seek out" places to find nature at one point in their homeschooling journey, to find things to write in their nature journals. And so today, we ventured out. We found a tucked away park, and were thrilled to discover a little creek running through it, with an abundance of trees, nuts, foliage, animals, to explore!

I marveled as my children came alive. Each one instantly finding their own special discoveries in the veins of a leaf, or in the plop of a turtle as he escaped into the water. Gorgeous trees became our playground as my girls climbed to their hearts content. I was worried that I would have to prompt, to encourage...but God met us in that park. There was no contrived "lesson" from momma...only the soft whisper of the Creator himself as he beckoned us to "taste and see" all that He had created just for us.

Brayden, always delighted with the simple things, was especially amazed at the shapes and varieties of leaves, textures, and sizes. He also drew all of our attention to a wild and aggressive sparring match between two furry squirrels! As they rolled and fought, my children laughed out loud with pure delight! We walked along the creek, stopping and lingering, soaking in the multitudes of sights, smells and sounds....

The beauty of this day was that my children discovered the Divine in the ordinary. They looked beyond a pretty flower or a spider web, and found symmetry, color and details that even I had missed. At one point, Emily, my sweet vibrant five year old...pointed out a "leaf that had air in it"! Sure enough it was a pod of some sort, almost like a "leaf balloon". She promptly popped it open to discover one simple, perfectly round seed right in the middle.

Upon finding a perfectly dried dandelion, Reaghan, my tender...contemplative seven year old, insisted that she make a wish. Closing her eyes tightly, her little heart searched for just the right wish, not taking lightly this ceremonial blowing of the dandelion. Once she had found it, she gave a barely noticible little nod of her head, then blew ever so sweetly across the face of that fuzzy ball. I am convinced that whatever she wished, that her Father in Heaven was so delighted with her tenderness, and awe...that He just might answer that little unspoken prayer.

As the day drew to a close, I was delighted as my precious boy came up and showed me this leaf. "What does it remind you of momma??" ...."It looks like a heart buddy".....then as he insisted I take the picture of it...I noticed the heart, lying perfectly over the tender palm of his hand. My son....my only son....my heart skipped a silent beat, as I thought of another "only son" with his palms outstretched...and a gaping hole in the middle of his hand. Nail holes...a crucified life....a broken body...broken for me...for these beautiful babies of mine. Those holes, an emblem of love...deep abiding love....drawing me into himself. The breezes of heaven swept over me at that moment. These are the moments, gathered up, collected together...that make up the fabric of our very lives. May I always remember to seize the day, to see beyond what is there, and to abide in that place.