Mourning Into Dancing

“No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening - it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way” (Hebrews 12:11).

I spent the morning in the woodshed with Jesus. I knew I had better get my sorry self there as quickly as possible when I screamed at my six-year-old this morning for spilling Fruit Loops all over the kitchen floor. Based on my response to my son, I knew that getting away for some time with the Lord was the top priority for my day. So off I went the Prayer Room at a church down the road.

“Dear Lord,” I began, closing my eyes, “I thank you for..”

Repent for your anger.

Well, this is the point at which the Prayer Room did indeed become the woodshed (i.e., I needed a whipping, okay?) as the Lord began to show me several things that have been building up in my heart these last few days.

The longer God and I talked, the lighter my heart felt. Once I repented for all the junk, the Lord and I got to some of the root stuff.

The root stuff for me is some pretty overwhelming sadness about some friends who have walked away from the Lord. I am deeply grieving about this right now. I am crying at night with Hugh once the kids go to bed. We are praying together daily about it. But I still feel this weight of heaviness as I try to figure out how to leave these people at His throne.

I’m not doing a very good job of it, though - and it is shows when I yell at my precious son. This is not fair to him and not what God wants for me in my parenting.

Even though I am sad about these situations, I need to give my friends back to Jesus. I must do this for many reasons, one of which is so that I can focus on my children. I have had to lay down some people who are pretty important to me, and I guess it’s time to do it again. I have to trust that the Lord loves them more than I do and then realize that it is not my job to live in grief.

Lord, you cry over your children when they walk away from you. I pray you would move in the hearts of your prodigal sons and daughters. I trust you to do this and, in the meantime, to help me to focus on my primary ministry right now - my children. Amen.

“Let my soul be at rest for the Lord has been good to me” (Psalm 116:7).

Every so often, Hugh and I sleep in on a Saturday (of course, with three young children, sleeping in means we get up at around 9:00). I go make coffee, throw some breakfast at the kids, and then Hugh and I settle in on the couch for about three hours, sipping coffee as the conversation flows and the cups empty.

I love these mornings. Mornings when I make a choice not to hit the ground running, immediately aware of the twenty to thirty things I must accomplish before the end of the day. Am I really that important?

Every so often, I decide to have a completely spontaneous day with my children. To have no agenda other then to enjoy them. Yesterday I went to a giant indoor bouncy playground for almost four hours. I was completely relaxed while my children ran around and I talked with wonderful women from my church. I didn’t clean the house, I didn’t call or email anyone back. I was just a relaxed mommy.

I love these days. Why are they so rare?

Every few months, I set up time to get away to be with God for an extended period of time. Maybe it’s an afternoon at the prayer room or (if I really need to seek the Lord and spend a long time in His Presence) overnight by myself at a bed and breakfast. During these times, I feel myself letting down and relaxing with Jesus - letting go of all the things I “should” do, and just enjoying Him.

I need these times. Times of letting go of the busyness that always seems to hunt me down, yelling at me about urgent things that, upon reflection, have very little eternal value. Times of rest for my soul where I focus on the Lord or my family.

And I am realizing that I need to be purposeful (SO purposeful) about making these moments happen. If I don’t, then they will not happen, and I find myself running on empty. Again.

So I will be at rest this day - for the Lord has been good to me.

Lord, you have been so good to me. Set me free from the false busyness of my life and help me to focus on the things that really matter. I love you.

“I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living” (Psalm 27).

My best friend and I went out for coffee last week. We love, love, love to do this - to get together without our children so we can actually listen to each other without interruption.

She began telling me about a conversation she had with an older woman from our church. I sat there, trying to listen, and then, right there in Caribou Coffee, I started to sob.

Pain can hit you so unexpectedly.

“Go on… no, I mean… I’m trying to be a better listener, please keep talking…” I said, while wiping my nose with a flimsy Caribou napkin as the tears continued to flow faster.

“Stop right now,” she gently commanded. “What’s going on for you?”

One of the biggest areas of pain that the Lord has set me free from is in my natural family. I had many, many fathers and a mother who, for many dark reasons, was unable to really care for me.

His faithfulness in leading me out of that family and healing my heart from the pain is one of the foundational reasons why I am so in love with Him. God healed me of such profound pain and hurt and depression that I want to live my life every day celebrating the reality that He lives and has given me His life.

So, why am I crying into my little napkin? I’ve learned that these moments still come. They creep up silently, and I feel a momentary ache as I remember how deeply it hurt to live out my childhood.

Being healed doesn’t mean that I don’t have those moments. Being healed means that those moments are rare and quickly accompanied by the truth of what God is doing in my life now. Then I turn to Him immediately in the pain and accept His grace and love in that moment.

I am seeing the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living. Every day.

Father, I waited for you and you came. I cried out to you and you answered. I begged to be filled and you came and filled me up with Your Presence. I live joyfully before you this day.

I have a passion to write in a way that resonates deeply with people - in a way that brings them right to the face of Jesus and somehow encourages them personally in their own relationship with Him. I also try to keep in mind that the majority of my readers are moms who, like me, are surrounded by the sweet (but very, very loud) noise of young children; they are women who, also like me, are trying to serve God while spending most of their time at home.

So I am cautious about what I write. I don’t know how much of my personal journey with the Lord I should share, because I’m not sure how relevant it would be to anyone else’s life.

It seems doubtful to me that it could encourage anyone, and I wonder if anyone would understand. I feel alone in my story, uncertain that it can glorify His name.

For example, today I am struggling with a really unique type of anxiety that has its roots in my childhood. How do I explain that I am having difficulty eating and sleeping because I am not currently living in chaos? That some part of my brain doesn’t know how to function without a crisis? Is that too bizarre? Will that ring true in the hearts of people who read what I am saying?

What a weird anxiety, I think. It wouldn’t bless anyone, I decide, to hear how God is taking me through this. So I’ll try to find another funny story about my toddler’s bad behavior while the deep currents of my heart remain unspoken.

My story, my journey, is complicated, sad, and chaotic. But it’s my story. His story. A love story between God and Jess. And the chapter of the day is Him showing me how to handle living without pain.

And though the details may be different, what’s true for all of us is that He wants to come in and redeem every part of our lives and give us a glorious future. He “rejoices over us with joyful singing” (Zeph. 3:17).

He is writing a love story for all of His children.

Open up my heart, Lord, and let your words come out. I submit to you this day.

“Now may the God of peace make you holy in every way, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless until our Lord Jesus Christ comes again. God will make this happen, for he who calls you is faithful” (1 Thessalonians 5).

“It seriously cannot be 5:00 am.”

I went to bed after midnight last night, and I found myself awake this morning way too early. I get worried sometimes because people in my extended family started having insomnia around age thirty. And I just turned thirty.

I tossed and turned for a little while, then decided to start my time with the Lord. I was hoping that I was up early because He wanted to meet with me in the early morning hours, to pour out His presence on me and talk to me for a while. I have felt so rushed and distracted in prayer this week - maybe this morning I could linger.

The moment I settled into my prayer chair with my coffee, I began to pour out my heart to the Lord about my children. This time, I didn’t hurry as I told God everything I have been feeling about my lack of consistency as a mom and my children’s behavior. Words continued to pour out of me, and I brought everything I was feeling before His throne.

There. Done. What a relief.

Speak, Lord. I am ready to hear what you would say to me.

I love pouring out my heart to God. I wish that every morning were a long time of prayer (although it makes it sweeter, I think, when it comes unexpectedly as a gift). I love telling Him everything I am feeling and then hearing the gentle voice of the Holy Spirit come in and start to instruct me.

Jess, you are afraid of failure with your children. Your lack of consistency is leading to a lack of delight. But you can change in this, daughter. It is a process. Begin today with them. I am with you…

Oh, His words. Like water over my thirsty, tired body. Filling me with understanding. Pouring over me with the peace that does pass all comprehension as I linger… linger.

In His Presence is fullness of joy.

Father, thank you for meeting with me. Thank you for wanting to talk with me. I am so in love with you.

“And He said to them, How is it that you had to look for Me? Did you not see and know that it is necessary [as a duty] for Me to be in My Father’s house and [occupied] about My Father’s business” (Luke 2:49)?

Sometimes I feel so hidden at home. Hidden, tucked away by the Lord, pouring out my life for my children. Trying to pour out my life for my husband.

I want to be used by Him in every way He sees fit. I want to be about my Father’s business. But it often feels like the Father’s business for me is primarily at home. So, I unload the dishwasher again and turn on some worship music and try to focus on finding the eternal value in the daily tasks of my call.

How do I find my purpose in Jesus surrounded by a big pile of laundry?

Where is the Holy connection between His throne and my life?

I have a friend that I have been lifting up before God for months. Months. Groaning and crying over a situation that is so devestating, so painful, all I can do is pray. Then, when I stop praying about it for a while, I ask God to give me a fresh heart to pray about it again. Because the situation has gotten worse, not better, so I want to keep praying.

Last night, we heard from our friend. Something has happened in this situation that only God could do. Only God. It was the kind of news where, when I heard the message on the answering machine, I started crying and praising God in the kitchen for ten minutes without stopping. I was filled with this fresh realization of how much God is in love with my friend, how He is pursuing my friend with His love.

This morning when I started praying for the people on my “list”, I felt new passion and purpose about it. Yes, I am hidden at home. But I have this Holy opportunity to pray and intercede daily before His throne while I am at home. To lift up His hurting children. To pray for His wisdom and blessing to come in the lives of the people I love.

I am about the business of my Father.

Lord, thank you for the privilege of prayer and intercession. Thank you for your Holy Spirit who prays through us and intercedes for us according to your will. I love you.

“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thess.).

The last few mornings I have felt really distracted when I am praying. I flip my Bible open and start to doubt my decision to take this year off from doing a “Year Through The Bible” reading plan. How many times will I reread the Psalms and the book of Philippians, I wonder. I vaguely pray for my family, write down a few things for my day, and then half-heartedly read a devotional book.

This morning I decided to ask God about it. “Why am I having such a hard time praying? Why am I so distracted?” I threw these questions up to the Lord and waited.

The gentle realization came.

There are a lot of things that I have not been praying about lately. Details about a new book study I’m doing, little issues about parenting, bigger issues about daily priorities - I haven’t been talking to the Lord about these things because they seem too small to pray about.

Even though they are weighing on my heart and I really need His clarity and wisdom, these issues don’t seem important enough to pray about. I feel like I shouldn’t waste the Lord’s time with them. And I don’t want to waste my time either - my window of time to pray is so short. So instead I try to do things that are more “spiritual” and read His Word a little longer and pray for the things I “should” pray for.

How’s that working out for me, you ask? Uh, not well at all.

If He is a Father then He cares about all the stuff in my heart - not just the depression or family crisis stuff, but the daily, nitty-gritty, walking-through-the-world stuff. I don’t want to let my own mispercepetions about God’s character start to cloud how I relate to Him. I need to remember that He cares about it all.

And then talk to Him about it.

Lord, I love you. I know you want to hear from me. Holy Spirit, please search my heart and pray through me this day. I love you.

The soundtrack from “A Charlie Brown Christmas” is playing quietly on our stereo right now while the children explore the large bin of play-doh and accessories that I put in the middle of the kitchen table. What is it about this music? As soon as I put it on, they got really calm and quietly started sorting the toys and making play-doh snakes.

The sad thing is that I actually wondered if it was wrong - I started feeling guilty because I was playing Christmas music in August. GUILTY BECAUSE IT’S AUGUST? AM I INSANE!?

I am (along with my husband) providing everything that I can for my kids. Not only do we have food, shelter, clothes, and health insurance, we are raising them in a godly church and teaching them about Jesus.

Every once in a while I understand how ludicrous mommy-guilt really is. The Charlie Brown Christmas music guilt is one of those moments.

Wouldn’t it be great to actually decide as women of God that we are not going to live with guilt as mothers anymore? We understand that He set us free from our past, so why do we bring guilt into our daily lives as moms? It is so obvious that it’s not from God - the fruit of this guilt is often feelings of discouragement and inadequacy. That doesn’t sound like my loving God AT ALL.

I want to choose freedom from guilt. To live daily believing that (according to Romans 8):
*we are more than conquerers!
*we are under no condemnation!
*our spirits are alive because of righteousness!
*the Holy Spirit will intercede for us when we pray!
*nothing can separate us from God’s love!

Let’s live in freedom.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go turn up the music.

Lord, you have set me free. Help me to walk in this freedom daily and follow your voice instead of the voice of condemnation. Thank you, God.