Friday, July 15, 2016

Tears of Splash

I sit here.  No words.

This place is where I have come to splash joy.  To share the goodness of my God.

From the mission field as a family, I began this journey.  Wading into this blog to give Him the glory.  Back home in the United States.  Fostering our little princesses.  Raising our little precious family.

Splashing His glory.  Proclaiming His goodness.

Tonight, I have to splash.  You see, sometimes life hits hard. But in the hard, bring to your knees times, I will stand and proclaim that He is good.

I don't understand.  I don't have to.

Maybe that is where the real joy comes from.  The real glory.  When your heart is shattered and you wake up with the unthinkable becoming your reality.  When your worst nightmare unfolds before your eyes.  To refuse to bow to the storm.  To refuse to let go of the promises God has given you.  To refuse to walk in anything but victory.

In the midst of it all, I choose to shout it loud.  My God is good.  He is faithful through all generations.  His love never fails.

I dip in this place again, not for you sweet reader.  But for me.  And maybe just maybe, tears can make splashes of their own.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Shards of Broken

My God is good.  No. Matter. What.

It's easy to believe when life glistens streaming brilliantly through the perfect window pane.  When the window pane smashes into thousands of shards and you stand in the midst of broken.  Will you still believe?  No. Matter. What.

Scooping up pieces of broken.  Feebly trying to put the pieces back together.  Slivered glass makes your fingers bleed.  When the situation completely shattered mocks you as you stand.  Will you still believe? No. Matter. What.

I whisper this to myself today as I kneel in the midst of broken.  Broken beyond what I could ever comprehend.   There is nothing I can do.  Nothing in my own strength.  When all you can cry out  "We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you" (2 Chron 20:12)   Will you still believe?  No. Matter. What.

Standing in the midst of broken.  Keeping your eyes on Him.  Setting down the broken shards and lifting your hands in praise.  Believing He is good. No. Matter. What.

My God, He's not in the window life smashing business.  And when you stand in the midst of the broken, He stands with you.  When you scoop up the glass shards and bleed because you try to put all the pieces back together on your own, He heals you.  When you have nothing left and the tears run dry, He strengthens you.  When you have no idea where to step, He leads you.  When you simply crumple, He holds you.

The thief comes to steal, kill, destroy, and shatter.  Jesus came to give us life, beautiful amazing, beyond what we could ever ask or imagine life.   Even in the midst of this broken.  I will believe.  My God is good.  No. Matter.  What.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Your Story Through Mine


The stories shout loud.  Encourage.  Build up.  But the final chapters were always written before the story published. 

What if?  What if someone walking  through the darkest time of her life.  Walking, clinging, crying out, holding on for dear life to her Jesus, wrote.  Picked up a pen and bravely shared the story before the final chapter came into existence.  In the middle of the ick, the vomit of the enemy all over her life.  A woman choosing to dance in the victory now ... but not seeing it with her own eyes, yet.

Craziness.  Transparency.  Messy faith.  

Can God pour out His glory through anything?  Can I splash others with how God is carrying, lifting, providing, filling in the midst of the all that surrounds me?  Can His story unfolding in my life, bring peace to another drifting in a storm of their own?

Some may call it absurd.  To open up my life wide.  Before the hope I cling to becomes reality.  If my story reflects HIs glory before the final chapter is written.  If realness enables just one person to cling to His promises, stand strong, let nothing move them ... 

Breathe deep Sarah.  Pick up your pen.  Crack open the book.  Abba, author of life, lavish Your love and write Your story through mine.  


Monday, June 23, 2014

Butterfly Wings


These precious girls, they come.  Fragile.  Precious.  Pure Beauty.  Our butterflies.

Opening our home wide, our family.  They soar straight to my momma heart.   They have weathered hard journeys and foster care brings them to our garden.

In the past year, I have written less.  Lived more.  Adding four precious butterflies to our garden, time dwindles.  Floors get dingy.  Dust gathers.  Laundry multiplies.  Joy explodes.

Anne Voskamp grabbed the syllables lingering in my heart and penned them "How we open up our calendars and our doors and our schedules and our agendas and make room for people, because it is how we make room for God."

I long to make more room for my God.  Til he fills every nook of our home and every cranny of my heart.

My perfectly clean house has vanished.  Homeschool lesson plans have lost a bit of luster.  Meals have simplified beyond belief.  Toys have declared war.  But in the midst of the evident chaos, giggles erupt.  Lil princesses wrapped up in God's love, sing Jesus loves me to each other.  They twirl.  They worship.  They smile down deep.

Our butterflies.


Monday, September 30, 2013

Formula Hunting

Today's formula ... Phenomenal Friends + Encouragement = Happy Momma.  And this momma is crazy blessed with Alanda for a friend.  She's one of those ladies who exudes encouragement and has spurred me on to be a better me just by being around her.  Delighted to share her with you today.  
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I love formulas. I love 2 + 2 = 4 and if I do This + This = I will always get That. I remember reading a few parenting books while pregnant with my oldest and thinking that I would end with an excellent child if I did all the right things. My child would never cry, because I had the right tools, and never disobey because I knew how to discipline.  It was going to be wonderful. That bubble took about... three hours of actually being a parent, to burst.

As it turns out, our oldest came into this world having never read the parenting books. The books were not written about my children, nor had they factored in my flaws as a parent. They were good, they were written by wise people, and there were certainly gems to be gleaned.  However, they had never actually met my child. It turns out, no one can, or should, parent just like a book.

I cried out to God a lot as a new parent. I was tired and felt like an utter failure. I learned quickly, I had no idea what I was doing and I was in way over my head.  It was during this time of brokenness that I learned to listen, trust and walk with God during my parenting adventure. When you fully realize that you can’t, that’s when God can step in and say “But I can.” Over the years I've learned more and more to rely on Jesus to help me as a parent. I've learned:

He made me, He made my kids, He has the answers that no one else does.

There are no absolutes in parenting. There are no sure fire ways to have the perfect kid. Breathe easy, it’s ok; no one was meant to be the perfect parent. After all, if we were perfect, they wouldn't need a savior. So after all these years, what I have learned to realize is: I don’t know, and then I pray.  No one has all the answers, we aren't meant to. We were made to walk with God all the time. We were created to spend time with our creator. Parenting is no exception.

So Mom or Dad, pray for your kids! Pray for them to love the Lord. Pray that you would have wisdom as a parent. When you are at the end of your rope and need a solution, the Lord will meet you right where you are. He brings beautiful solutions in a million different ways. Sometimes an idea will come to me while I am praying. Sometimes it will be a wise friend who says just the words I needed to hear. Sometimes He speaks directly to my kids, and they will come to me with the answer… and sometimes I will read it on a blog :)

And as always, I would be crazy honored to have you link up with momma notes.  I jot some on Mondays, but you can link up any day of the week (I get the momma, filled to to the brim, schedules)   Just mom.  Sharing our notes.  Creating a melody.