Raising Puppies is Like Raising Kids Which is Like Finding Grace
Grace is not a chase. Grace is a journey of discovery. A discovery of how much you are loved.
Tag: trust
American Christian
Are you American? Are you a Christian? If you say you’re American, most assume you are Christian. Have you ever wondered why that is?
When God says, “Lay it Down”
We all have a word. Maybe you don’t have a word. Instead, you have a thought, a goal, or a dream. You might not be a New Year’s resolution type, but we all want more for our lives. My word for 2018 is expectant. I walked into the year fully expecting God to do big things in my life. I launched a ministry on a prayer and a dream. I knew God would show up and He did. However, as the year progressed I realized my expectations got wrapped up in my vision and not His story leading to some disappointment.
“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Exodus 14:14
My dreams swirled around in my expectations. I know that God has placed this desire in my heart. I know I stepped into what He was calling me to do. What I don’t know, however, is how it all will unfold. And, quite frankly, that freaks me out a bit. I keep showing up day-after-day doing the next thing He is calling me to do. But, there is an emptiness, a longing, deep within. My daily journey wasn’t matching up with my expectations. I was expectant of the Lord but my expectations were all mine.
Lay down your expectations so He may fill you with more.
As 2018 comes to a close, I realized that while I started the year expectant of God, I became more expectant of me instead. I thought I knew best: that I knew how fast things needed to move and which direction they needed to travel. I know how this story plays out so let’s get to it. God doesn’t work that way. Thankfully.
It took me until December to awaken to my confusion; to see that my expectant vision was blinded. At the end of this year (literally, at the beginning of December) I clearly heard the Lord tell me to lay it down. Lay down the dream.
Let’s have a little chat. Laying down what I hold dear, what I have worked so hard for, what I have dreamed about, what wakes me up in the middle of the night is much more difficult than I think. Sure, I’m a strong Christian girl. I trust God. I know He has great plans for me. I know he delights in giving me the desires of my heart. I know He wants to exceed my expectations. But lay my dreams down? Ha. Are you crazy, God?
He’s calling me to lay it down to make room for Him to fill my life with more. The more tightly I grip, the less space He has. He wants to fill our lives. He wants to give us more than our little hearts desire. But, when we hold too tightly to the dream, when we put our spin on it and add our narrative, we don’t make room for miracles.
It’s taken me a few days to write this. If I am being honest, I have not fully laid down my dreams for The Messy Mingling. I still have my grip. I sat down to finish this post and noticed something. Next to the computer on the coffee table was my mug. On it read, “Get Your Hopes Up.” Isn’t it just like God to ask us to sacrifice but not lose hope? And not only hold onto hope, but get your hopes up.
Laying it down, laying it ALL down, when God calls makes room for the miraculous to happen.
Laying down that dream can be rough. We often lose hope when God asks us to lay something down; especially something we hold near and dear to our hearts. But, what if laying it down doesn’t equal hopelessness? What if laying it down equals hopefulness instead? Laying it down, laying it ALL down, when God calls makes room for the miraculous to happen. Don’t fear laying it down. Don’t be burden by the sacrifice. Don’t lose hope. Fill your heart with anticipation for what He’s about to do.
I am not laying down The Messy Mingling. I will still work it wholly and completely. I am laying down the chase and replacing it with an active pursuit of God. My focus is no longer whether or not this dream will succeed; whether it will come true. My center of attention is actively pursuing God. There’s been a shift. Laying it down reignites the hope within. Journey with me, and I with you, as we all lay it down and pick up hope: hope in our active pursuit of God.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
Let It Snow
When my middle guy was three, he said it couldn’t be Christmas unless it snowed. Anytime we talked about the impending holiday, he would tell us in his sweet little voice that it absolutely not come until it snowed. Guess what? It snowed that year. …
The Preteen Years
FLASHBACK FRIDAY… Since we talked about faith and kids on Facebook this week, (watch here https://www.facebook.com/themessymingling/ ) I thought it would be fun to do a flashback post when I wrote about my feelings on our oldest entering middle school. My hope is that this post help …
Let Them GO
I bawled my eyes out pulling away after dropping my babies off at sleep-away camp.
I couldn’t wait to get to FaceTime my oldest while he was on his missions trip.
The fish died and I couldn’t resurrect him. On the first day of school.
One kid didn’t have anyone to sit with at lunch. All his buddies got a different lunch. He sat alone. I couldn’t fix it.
Motherhood is phenomenal. Motherhood is hard. As my friend, Brandi, says, “You want to hug them into your soul. Sometimes you want to karate chop them in the neck. And then you want to hug them into your soul again.”
I want to rescue them. I want to go back to when they were squishy babies. I also look forward to them moving out and becoming adults. I am loving the privilege of watching them grow and come into their own. It’s a constant push-and-pull.
I decided not to walk the two youngest into school on their first day. Most of the parents at our school walk their children to their classroom on the first day. They actually walk them to class the entire first week of school. It’s a mess. Lots of people every where. I decided this year that my kids were very capable of walking themselves in. We’ve been at this school for six years. If these boys weren’t actual students at the school, they were being dragged to see their big brother. They know the school.
We all know time is a thief. It comes in and steals moments making them zip by so fast that we don’t realize they happened until they are gone. I had two precious videos on my TimeHop app of my baby boys. One crawling up the stairs for the first time and and the other being precious in his crib on that first day of school. The same day I let them walk in on their own.
In all the feelings and conundrums of motherhood, I am learning one thing. If I do it right, I will feel fulfilled not deflated when one season ends and another begins. My boys are not mine. They are His. My role is to guide them and train them in this life to be good humans, successful adults who positively contribute to society, and love Jesus. My job is not to smother. My job is not to control. My job is not to hold on too tight even when I don’t want to let go.
I am (slowly) learning to release these boys. Sometimes, it’s easy and I am confident in doing so. Other times, I bawl my eyes out and don’t want to let go. What I have seen in allowing myself to let go is three incredible little men thriving in their lives; their own lives. Because this is their life to live. Not mine. I am just a part of their story; their brilliant beautiful story.
Mamas, it is time to release the grip. We need to give them space to be the people we have hoped and dreamed for them to become. It is time we stand back and stare in awe of how incredible they are. What an awesome privilege to watch these children grow right before our eyes.
My sister told me once that God does not rip the band-aid off all at once. Instead, he gives us small moments of release. Allow them. Search for them. Because when you slowly release that death grip on their lives, you get to see the magic. You get to see God alive and vibrant in their lives. You get to trust Him because ultimately, they are His.
Squeeze them into your soul. Give them a karate chop every now and again. And then, release them. You will be amazed at what a gift it is.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
Lightning, Thunderstorms, oh…Revelation???
FLASHBACK POST: …a continuation of my series on miscarriage. This entry is vulnerable, real, and raw. The dead of night is always the hardest when you are going through something tough. It is when you are completely alone in your feelings. I remember this night …
On My Knees
FLASHBACK POST:
Lately, I have realized that I need to share what brought me into the blogging world: my story. My original blog (hello, MySpace) was a place where I recorded milestones and triumphs of our first born and our adventures in a new town. And then it happened: miscarriage. I felt trapped. I needed an outlet and that became writing and sharing my story. I have read and heard three stories of miscarriage this week. At the same time, I was able to celebrate the announcement of a healthy pregnancy of a friend who has been trying for 12 years. It’s time I revisit my story. Not to hurt again or throw it in the face of others that my story worked out. But instead, to unify us through our stories; to empower us and heal us by sharing the deepest of our hurts. I do not have answers to your questions of “why.” What I do have is hope. I always had hope even in my darkest times because I had Jesus. I hope this week helps you feel less alone and fills you with hope and peace in the midst of your despair. I am praying for you and loving on you even though I may not know your name. So is He and He does know your name. Rest in that.
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“I realized I wanted to see the whole body moving instead of just doing my part. I wanted to know the ins and outs of what I was affecting, and a little diagram of potential issues headed my way would be awesome. I wanted the scientist’s view. I wasn’t given that, and it wasn’t by accident.” Angie Smith
I was on my knees in Grady’s room crying harder than I probably ever have begging our great Lord for my precious boy. You see, I had been through two miscarriages, one being at the end of the first trimester with a baby that had Downs. Grady’s room sat empty and I desperately wanted it filled. I knew deep down in my heart that Jackson was meant to be a big brother and not an only child but after the way things were going, that looked bleak. I begged and cried and begged some more. I am sure I promised God the moon too. God did eventually bless us with Grady and then blew our socks off with Wyatt; our bonus baby that we weren’t planning on but now know we needed him to complete our family.
At the moment of my despair as I was crying over two lost pregnancies and desiring a sibling for Jack, I wish I could have had that diagram Angie talks about. I want to know what’s around the corner and that my prayers have meaning and an effect. Even though I believe with all of my heart and my very being that God absolutely heard me that day on my knees in Grady’s room, I do not think my begging, crying, and promising my everything gave me Grady. I know God designed my family well before I even knew who He was. Wyatt taught me this. Scott and I were done having kids after Grady. Literally, a month after having the conversation that two boys was plenty, I got pregnant. This, after all the issues I had trying to have Grady. God knew. He had our family perfectly designed regardless of my plans or prayers. His will.
My friend and I are doing a book study of Angie Smith’s, Chasing God. The chapter we just went through was on prayer. We had an incredible conversation about how all the begging in the world will not change God’s mind. That was a blow to Michelle and I. Not because we think we are all powerful and want to control God. No. We want to know that our prayers matter. And you know what? They do. Prayer brings us closer to the one who Created us. Prayers give us peace and hope, joy and comfort. God has a design, a perfect will, for our lives where everything is working together to create a perfect and beautiful story for our lives. Prayer connects us to that story.
“Delight yourselves in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalm 37:4
For years I misunderstood Psalm 37:4. I thought if I walked with the Lord and lived for Him He would give me what I desired. I have a different perspective on this verse now. I believe that as I grow closer to God my desires become His desires. I feel the same way with prayer. Jesus even prayed to the Father about how he really felt about the dying on the cross BUT he didn’t stop there. He prayed that the Father’s WILL be done. Not Jesus’ desires but the Father’s will. I believe whole-heartedly that God brings specific people in our lives to prayer over us. I also believe He fills our hearts with desires and what to pray. Do I think He controls us? Absolutely not. He gave us free will for a reason. He did, however, give us the Holy Spirit to guide us in our lives and that’s exactly what I believe happens in our prayers. The Holy Spirit is present and active when we pray.
So, what now? What does this mean for my prayer life? Angie Smith says this, “What I have been given is the ability to take in and give out. I don’t really understand the way it distributes itself throughout the body, or how it comes back to me, but it doesn’t keep me from doing what He made be to do. And it doesn’t make me insignificant. It just means I’m not always in a position to see or feel my significance, so I choose to defer to the One who does.” <i>Chasing God</i>
I will pray and believe great and mighty things from a great and mighty God. I will tap into the power of the Holy Spirit when I pray. I will ask God to transform my desires to His because they are better anyway (Wyatt is a prime example of His plan being better than mine). I will pray to grow closer to Him and commune with Him. I will walk along the way and talk with Him through my prayers about silly stuff. And I will continue praying miracle prayers as I am doing for someone I love right now. He places burdens on our heart to pray for, don’t ignore it. Instead, pray believing doing your part, my part, and letting Him worry about His.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
My Whole Life. My Whole World.
FLASHBACK FRIDAY: A Post on Motherhood to Celebrate All The Mamas Out There Ten years ago my husband and I loaded everything we owned into a moving van. We strapped our 15-month old into his car seat and headed 3,000 miles east to plant new …