I Don’t Even Recognize Her

I don’t even recognize her.  She was so full of life and hope.  Nothing could stop her, nothing could slow her down or convince her to change course.  She’d never be defeated; her trust was in the Lord.

Today, her spirit isn’t jaded or weakened but thankful and stronger.  She hasn’t learned the hard way but has learned God’s way.  It’s work.  She’s been disciplined through love; for a greater purpose.  Her story isn’t the result of naivety but of hope.

I remember when she was asked to do the hard thing.  Her confidence.  So self-assured and focused on the goal set before her.

Now she’s living it.  It isn’t a goal or daydream full of whimsy but a reality.  She’s where God called her – the hard place.  Her confidence is not diminished but re-assigned, it’s no longer in her but in Him.  She’s no longer thinking that she is strong enough but that He is strong enough.  She’s seeing firsthand what He can do through a willing heart.  She is tired but wise.  She has been hurt but hasn’t lost.  She has failed and seen redemption.  Today, she is not less but more.  She has failed but hasn’t lost focus.

I don’t even recognize her.  Maybe I don’t want to.  Maybe I’m embarrassed of her.  The young woman I was 10 years ago.  I loved a God I didn’t really know.

Far From Beautiful

I’m not going to tell the story.  It’s not beautiful.

It’s actually been ugly.  Ugly pieces of my heart that I hadn’t even known existed have surfaced since becoming a parent.  And so, it’s hard for me to respond to people’s questions about “our story”.  I guess that’s mostly because I know what they are expecting to hear.  They are expecting for me to tell them a beautiful story. A story that shines a light on the good in the world that so often seems hidden.  A story that reminds them there’s hope and beauty and redemption.  A story that points to all the ways God has rained down glory on our family and the enormous ways we’ve seen God move.  But I don’t have that story.

In fact, when people ask us about our journey, my mind spins into chaotic memories of yelling, crying and anger.  The long season of feeling alone and angry and privately regretting the choice I had made.  The ugly feelings that I tried to reason with as I desperately tried to remember the feelings of certainty I had when God spoke adoption into our lives.  I questioned if I had got the calling wrong.  The experience was traumatic and I am a changed person because of it.  Those memories hurt.  They feel ugly.

The story is far from beautiful.  But it also isn’t over.

I’ve been hearing God whisper to me since the dust has settled; reminding me that my work is important. That although I’ve failed in moments, I haven’t failed in life.  I haven’t sacrificed as gracefully as I had hoped but my sacrifice is still valid.  My favorite theme of the bible isn’t grace alone but the progress grace allows. His grace is sufficient, but for what? Sufficient grace so we can stand still or sufficient grace so we can progress? If God’s blessing to my family came immediately after the adoption papers were signed, what story would we have to tell?  That God is simple?  That we systematically receive when we give? There are no stories like that in the bible. Why did I think my story would be the first?

Promises Promises

I am so happy that you have decided to join me on this journey of writing and community building.  While I’m chasing a dream of writing, I’m simultaneously chasing a dream of ministry.  I have no ultimate vision of what that ministry will look like but I’m taking steps and doing my best to listen for God’s direction at each turn.

For now, I’m trying to build a community.  Partly for my personal need for connection with the body of believers.  Partly because I feel a need for a true, honest, spirit seeking place for believers.  Not all of us have access to that kind of community and some of us do not know how to build those kinds of relationships.  So let’s start here, together.

I want to start on the right foot and tell you what this group will not be.  Please hold me accountable to these at any time.

What This Community Will Not Be.

A sounding board.  It is not my goal or intention to use this platform to complain.

A place of comparison.  If ever it sounds like I’m bragging, I’m not.  Attribute any prideful language to poor writing.  My effort will always be to intentionally point to God’s goodness.

A place of competition.  My life has seasons where it is really hard.  My life also has seasons that are really beautiful.  Your life is the same but with a different narrative.  I will never compete to prove to you how bad or good my life is.

A place where I always think I’m right.  Most of the time, I’m just doing my best.  I’ve lived long enough to remember some of the biggest revelations I’ve had have come from people brave enough to boldly state opinions that differ from mine.  It’s essentially why I watch The View.  You are always welcome to share your thoughts with me – please do!

What This Community Will Be.

A place of encouragement.  While I would love to encourage each of you individually, and I pray that some of my writing might do just that, my greatest hope is that this place will be a place of encouragement for you to seek the Lord with everything you’ve got.  In every season.  In every pain and praise.  In every hurt and hardship.  If this group can encourage you to do one thing, I pray that it’s to seek Him in all things.

A place of silliness.  Comedy is one of my favorite things.  I believe that some of the best fellowship comes from people laughing together.  When you laugh together you’ve found common ground, the roots of relationship.

A place of challenges.  I want to live my life to a place of exhaustion, serving and loving other people as we are called to do.  Let’s get out and beyond the walls of our local church and into our communities.

Are you ready for this?