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a small bud blooms

October 12, 2016 / Kallie McKean

A year and a half ago, a friend sent this picture and a word from the Lord to me.

She wrote that while outside trimming her hydrangeas she had an overwhelming urge to send me these words, not her thoughts, but words from the Lord…

See the dead flower at the top? Follow the stem down and see the fresh green bud waiting to flower? The Lord says “Let go of the dead dried up flower because I’m giving you this fresh new beautiful flower. You won’t see it until you cut the dead one off.”

The Holy Spirit used her obedience {this was not a normal thing for her to do} to speak powerfully to me. I wept at the words. Words I knew were meant for me. I had a lot of dead in my life at that moment. And I knew the cutting, the severing what was dead would be painful.

For me, the dead flower was my expectation of what my life would look like. Specifically, it was my husband and I working in church ministry. We had felt God had called us to move to California for ministering to the church here. For 3 years we had walked a hard journey believing the dream of pastoring would be fulfilled. But, that dream was dead. And I kept staring at the dead dream wishing and begging God to bring it back to life.

Instead He asked me to let it go. To cut it off.

But…why God I cried? Why when you called us here so specifically? Why when our hearts are for this? For you in this? God…this doesn’t make any sense!?

Trust, he whispered…

Trust in the Lord with all your heart. And lean not on your own understanding. Proverbs 3;5 {emphasis mine}

I love when our beloved King finds personal ways to speak to us. For me, that picture of a hydrangea was a sweet message from him. He knows hydrangeas are my favorite. They hold special meaning for me. They represent dreams given up long ago…

It was scary to ‘cut’ off my dead dream. My dead hopes and ideas and expectations for my future. It felt safer to stare at the dead flower wanting it to come back to life. The new bud was unknown. Only God knew what that one would look like. Did I trust Him enough to cut the dead one off for good?

Eventually, I surrendered. I let go of what I thought was the next step in our story, and let God bring about something new. It’s hard to even put into words all that God has done for my husband and I in this new season. He has placed a new song in my heart and a new dream. It looks nothing like I thought it would, and yet, it’s perfectly tailored to my heart.

My husband and I started a new ‘design and build’ business, The Yellow Chair, with nothing more than the talents God placed in us. Literally nothing. At the time, I was an artist with a innate skill to design things and Mike could build just about anything. We loved giving homes second chances to be lovely…that was it. Small beginnings. A small bud on the stem.

It wasn’t easy, but God breathed life on it and it has flourished, bloomed.

We design and renovate people’s homes and we love what we do. Our separate talents compliment each other, and we happen to work really well together!

We find ourselves ministering to not one church but the bigger Church. We find ourselves caring for people our paths might never naturally cross. We are able to share our testimony to those that might never step inside a church building. It’s astounding to me that day after day we have work, and it is good work.

Practical work and kingdom work all mixed together.

Work that fulfills both Mike and I separately as well as together. I am amazed at what He has done once I let go of what I thought it was supposed to look like, once I cut off the dead. I now can see.

Friends, is there something dead in your life hindering a new bloom that our good God desires to bring forth? It’s so hard,so scary, to let our old dreams go. But if we can just trust in the one who planted us, we will find He knows how to bring forth life after death.

-Kallie

Tangible

October 5, 2016 / Guest Author

Tangible (as defined from the Miriam Webster Dictionary)

Easily seen or recognized
Able to be touched or felt.

I recently came across a blog post where the author explained she struggled with believing in God, due to the fact that God is not tangible. Believing in something that is not tangible is difficult. Even the disciple Thomas could not believe what he did not see. It wasn’t until Jesus appeared before him that he believed.

Love, gravity or wind cannot be seen, but they can be felt in a tangible way. Our Creator is tangible though we cannot see Him. He is, in fact, the most tangible thing in my life. I feel His presence, see Him working and recognize His goodness. That is His desire for us all. He wants us to be touched by Him so tangibly that others will also SEE Him in our own lives.

Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him! Psalms 34:8 (NLT)

Eleven months ago we brought our daughter home from China and during those eleven months, I learned a valuable truth about the tangibility in my relationship with God. It taught me how our faith moves from the intangible to the tangible, just as my love for her did.

Unlike the easily recognizable, tangible love a new mom feels when her baby is set upon her breast, love through adoption is built over time, or at least it was in my experience. Those “gotcha” videos, which tend to circle in social media, are very emotional and the love seems so tangible in those moments. It’s when the “I love you on paper” moment meets real life. Soon after though, reality crushes expectations and the real work begins, the work of attachment.

In those first months, it truly felt as though I was caring for another mom’s little girl. Thankfully I had a strong adoption community that helped me see how normal this was, otherwise I may have drowned from the nagging guilt that I should have fallen in love instantly. I just wasn’t there yet, even if I wanted to be. My feelings for her were not seen nor felt. They were intangible. So I did what I knew I had to do: I went through the motions. I fed, cared, kissed, hugged and nurtured her just as I did my other children. Slowly through every interaction, the feelings of love began to surface. We began to create a mother-daughter relationship and to attach to one another. Now eleven months later, my love for her is tangible. I feel it. I recognize it. It’s visible.

The truth I discovered is that this is how it works with my relationship with God. I need to play an active part in our interactions if I want to experience Him and know Him tangibly. I need to separate myself from the business of life and “go through the motions” in connecting with Him no matter if it’s always easy or convenient. I need to come to Him in song, in his Word and in prayer. I need to repent of my sins and forgive. Because when I do, He promises me that I will able to “taste and see” Him. He promises me rest and peace. He promises me that He will be there, tangibly.

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28 (NLT)

So let God work his will in you. Yell a loud no to the Devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and He is there. Quit dabbling in sin. Purify your inner life. Quit playing the field. Hit bottom, and cry your eyes out. The “fun and games” are over. Get serious, really serious. Get down on your knees before the Master; it’s the only way you’ll get on your feet. James 4:7-10 (The Message)

God is always near, always faithful, always present. He is just waiting for us to reach out to him to prove his tangibility. So in essence, the attachment work is on us.

–Rebecca

Rebecca Thorpe lives in Manhattan, KS where her and her husband are stationed. Her husband, a Lt. Col in the United States Army and her have four joyful kids. She is a home-schooling mama, a triathlete, has completed two half Ironman races, and most importantly is madly in love with her savior. Her passion for him is inspiring as she runs this race with her eyes on the Prize!

stepping out

September 28, 2016 / Alyssa Gluck

My oldest started middle school last month.

(Insert the sound of TRUMPETS and then come sit with me while I sulk with my blankie).

BIG. LIFE. Transitions- for HIM and for HIS PARENTS. 🙂

We named him Joshua, and what has been so interesting is how that boy has lived up to his name.

In the Bible Joshua was a leader, but he sure wasn’t one from the start. He was slow-to-warm, cautious, and probably not the first to be put up front. God equipped him, anointed him as leader, and then reassured him again and again that he had what it took when he faced crazy challenges. And..20 something times throughout the Biblical book of Joshua God tells him, “Do not be afraid.”

Our firstborn is cautious, and conscientious, and being brave has been a bit of a challenge since he was little.

I have SO many memories of sitting with Joshua on the sidelines while other kids were jumping in to the activity and having to coax him into trying. When he was 3, I remember being on the side of the pool while his swim lesson classmates were splashing and participating and he was shaking and clinging on to me with all his might not wanting to go in. Because these scenarios were common we began to memorize Bible verses (many from the book of Joshua) about fear. These were the encouragements God probably sang over his boy, Joshua. “Be strong and courageous, do not be afraid. Do not be discouraged. For the Lord your God will be with you, wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

So when this fall marked the D-DAY of MIDDLE SCHOOL, the anticipation of all this change just about put me under.

He’d have to move from our little school where we know everyone to a school with three times as many kids on campus. He’d have multiple teachers to get used to instead of just one. He’d have lots of NEW people to get to know when only a few familiar faces were in each class. Homework, rallies, phones, dances….oh, how my anxiety bubbled. And then entering YOUTH GROUP at church?…stick a fork in me.

And we are now a month in and my husband and I are absolutely amazed at how our boy has taken on this change. So grateful for how the middle school has helped provide activities and groups for them to transition well. But really…what has surprised us the most is how this boy has responded with COURAGE.

He wakes up ready and eager for a new day at school.

He’s taken on class changes, homework and new friends like a champ.

Last week he walked into youth group alone, knowing none of his buddies would be there.

WOW.

Fear still creeps up occasionally. Like last week when there was a challenge in a youth group scavenger hunt that sounded a little over-the-top to him. There were a few “what ifs” and “I don’t know about that…s” and I wondered if I’d need to accompany him by the sideline again. How often fear can paralyze us. But when the time came – he went for it! He actually did it! The silly junior high antics didn’t match the tears hidden behind my sunglasses, but I was so proud of the growth of my boy.

I’ve heard it said, “Courage is being afraid, but doing it anyway. “

I need to hear that. Do you? There is plenty in this world to be afraid about, isn’t there?

But WHO is with us? Who is FOR us?

This morning I dropped him off a block away from school (because “mom, don’t park too close”). I watched him get out of the car, walk a few steps, and then turn around and look and wave & smile like he’s done since kindergarten. I sat there and watched him walk with his head high onto the big campus with kids two feet taller than him.

And I was inspired by his example.

And this mama, heading off to my new job and filled with my own insecurity and fear, sensed God say to my heart….

“Mama, Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid. Do not be discouraged. For the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

-Alyssa

just add water

September 14, 2016 / Laura Frederick

My free fall summer of job change and adoption has pushed the concept of water through my heart like the draining of a million gallon tank.

Just. Add. Water.

The tendency to crave insta-everything —instant happiness, instant depth, instant love… the notion that new relationships bring immediate satisfaction.

Wrong.

Love takes time. Love takes work. Love takes intentionality. Lasting love is slow to build.

Just. Add. Water.

God spent years stretching my heart in preparation for adoption. Long before we met our new daughter he was equipping my family to include her.

However, change, even good change, adds emotion and taxes energy. Consequently, each of us is functioning at capacity. This means that emotion – joy, frustration, fear, sadness is muddled, messy, and easily brought forth. I’ve hidden in my closet and shed tears of fear-filled weariness. We’ve huddled and cried tears of happy-filled weariness.

It also means that I can’t expect myself to function at a typical energy capacity. I’ve had to step away from commitments. Responses are delayed. I sometimes feel like a flake. Friends and extended family go overlooked. Thankfully they love me through it.

Grace. Constant grace. I’m normal. And that’s okay. At least that’s the healing water they keep offering me.

Just. Add. Water.

I’m vulnerable in this state of openness. The ‘what if’s’ haunt me. They wash over my heart in tsunami-size waves of fear.

We moved in May (have I mentioned that?). Every wall is bare. Except for one thing, hanging in the staircase I climb a hundred times each day. I need it as a reminder of the verse God gave me when our hearts were broken in care for a little one. Here’s my paraphrase of its message:

The stakes are high when I move deeper into battle. I’m vulnerable and exposed. Pain is imminent, death is possible. BUT, I know (and will continue to preach this truth to myself) that YOU are the shield around me. When I cling to the edge of sanity I cling to you. My overflow of messiness, failures, and victories, I give it all to you. Because you can handle it. Because you love me in it. You will never leave me. You will never ask me to pull it together or clean myself up. You are enough. In you, I am enough.

Just. Add. Water.

Christ declared himself the Living Water.

Look, I have a strong marriage, close family, solid friendships, and a supportive community. I know who I am and what I can contribute to this planet. I’ve spent years practicing therapy, I’ve received therapy, and I have an expansive mental health toolkit. I’m good at self-care and self-talk.

At the end of the day, the only water that has ever fully quenched my deepest soul-level needs is Christ. Plain and simple.

The challenges won’t disappear. After all, the bravest living invites pain and fear.

I am convinced that only in Him can a million gallons of water flow through me and not crush me.

Laura

Exhales and inhales

July 13, 2016 / Alyssa Gluck

The first month of summer surprised us.

Waiting for life. Waiting for death. Living in the paradox.

My sister was expecting her first baby. She was past her due date and we had traveled there anxiously awaiting his arrival.

At the same time, three states away, my husband’s grandfather was suffering on his deathbed surrounded by his kids, knowing his final breaths on earth were imminent.

The anticipation. The unknown.

Every time the phone buzzed we jumped.

Life and death.

Joy and pain.

Celebration and loss.

Sometimes the two go hand in hand.

“Sorrow and peace shake hands in the corner with laughter, anger and fear. Desire and disappointment often keep company with one another on the bench.” Emily Freeman, author of Simply Tuesday

I sensed my SMALLNESS in God’s grand master-story. I couldn’t control any of the outcomes. I had to trust His sovereignty.

Monday we got a call that grandpa had passed away. At 94 years old, it was expected, but still stung. Just three weeks prior he had been diagnosed with cancer, the same kind that robbed the lives of his two sons the past two summers. The family had already been dwelling in the land of grief. Three widows. Nothing at all fair about that.

Monday afternoon I spent time with my sis who still had NO noted progression towards delivering that baby any time soon. I knew we’d need to leave the following afternoon to start our drive to Idaho for grandpa’s funeral. I was hoping to be there to witness the miracle of life but I knew the chances were slim that he’d come before we needed to leave. Our family gathered around her and prayed for God to bring this baby in His timing . At 9:00 that night I got a text that contractions had started. Miraculous.

Even while I waited in the labor and delivery waiting room I was reminded of the dualities that dance through the fog. Awaiting the joyous birth announcement, the television blared the breaking reports of more shootings. More lives STOLEN. I had to turn my head and walk away multiple times. My soul couldn’t process the horror, the tragedy, the questions, the fears for the next generation of kids who would live here where mass murders and senseless killings are becoming a normal “thing.”

Oh God, have mercy. I’ve never longed for Heaven more.

Simultaneous exhales and inhales.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.

^2-8A right time for birth and another for death,

A right time to plant and another to reap,…,

A right time to destroy and another to construct,

A right time to cry and another to laugh,

A right time to lament and another to cheer,..

A right time to hold on and another to let go, (Msg)

JOY. Baby Kayden was born the morning of June 21st. He came naturally, the way his mama had hoped. It was a quick, smooth delivery and even the small prayer I had to be there when he came was granted. A huge gift to this auntie. It was all such sacred ground – the miracle of life -the perfection of a new little one- we sensed God there.

The birth of a baby boy whose story was just beginning. The possibilities for his life.

And after hugs and happy tears we jumped in the car for a long travel to Idaho to join in the remembrance of a man who lived almost a century of experiences. Our kids asked on the way, “are we going to Idaho for ANOTHER funeral?” Yes. Three years in a row.

My husband was asked to officiate the graveside service. (What words can be said to make sense of the grave losses, and the three widows standing in the wake? Many questions). We saw God’s grace in that grandpa was ready to go. And his sickness and pain had lasted a limited scope of time. For that we were all grateful. The celebration of his life was simple just like he had wanted it to be. And his grandson (my husband) honored him well.

Now I’m home, and I still feel a little conflicted in my soul. A new life has begun and one on earth has ended. The generations continue. There are moments of bliss when I see pictures of baby Kayden on Facebook- the wonder of a new little life and all his firsts. And then, sorrow when more stories are told of the people behind in recent tragedies, or I see chatter among our family who is trying to make sense of loss with three holes in the family picture.

I have no clean, closing thoughts. No verse to put a bow and a lesson on this.

Maybe the lessons will come.

For today, I sit on the bench with joy and sorrow, peace and uncertainty, with laughter and fear. And I reach out for the hand of the one who is sovereign in it all.

free fall

June 29, 2016 / Laura Frederick

I’ve walked off a cliff and am free falling – arms flailing.

I feel like Lot’s wife. Remember her? She’s the one who died.

Lucky me.

This walk began last year. Back when I first got the inkling that God was asking me to step away from a job I’ve loved. Step away to focus on counseling and life coaching, with some speaking and teaching on the side. He whispered to my heart that this combination would allow me to serve the world utilizing the skillset He designed for me — with the added benefit of greater flexibility to give more time and energy to my family…

a critical combination as we seek to foster-adopt.

Months – many months – passed. I prayed and talked it out with Jason and a few trusted friends.

In my perfect world I wouldn’t have stepped away from the current until the new was solidified. BUT, a week came when I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was time. Time to walk it out.

So I did.

Right off the edge of that pesky cliff.

Falling, all I can see is the fog below. My stomach flies into my throat and I’m tempted to panic. Tempted to reach for the side of the mountain. To somehow pull myself back to where I was before. Somehow reverse time.

Did I make a mistake? Do I have what it takes to be self-employed?

I have compassion for the desert-wandering Israelites who thanked God for his mighty deliverance one day and longed for their former life (i.e. bondage) the next. It reminds me of clients who are tempted to stay in an awful situation because it’s less scary than the unknown of something new.

So human.

So relatable.

Here’s the problem: even IF I could somehow grip the side of the mountain and pull myself up, the landscape at the top has changed. I’d be going back to something that no longer exists.

So here I am – falling – stuck between the fearful new and the absent old.

Then it hits me. FLIP AROUND.

Did you ever do a trust fall when you were a kid? Or maybe as an adult during some overeager leader’s teambuilding exercise?

The answer isn’t the fog or the cliff. No. I need to turn my gaze upward.

Flip my body around and focus on the One I can trust. HIS character. HIS promises.

As my eyes come into focus, the whole experience begins to change. Slowly – but – surely.

My stomach is returning to its rightful place. A calm is washing over the fear. The first hint of excitement is peaking through the fog of the unknown.

“FOCUS UP” the whisper says. “Keep your eyes on me.”

I’m not sure when my feet will hit the ground. Or, what the new landscape will look like. The only thing I’m sure about is that I can trust the one who told me to walk. And, with that in mind, I’ll take this free fall for the thrilling ride that it is.

I am the Lord your God, I go before you now. And though you feel I’m far away, I am closer than your breath. I am with you. More than you know.

– Come to Me by Bethel Music

Laura

Greener Grass

June 1, 2016 / Kallie McKean

Last Sunday I was sitting out on my patio watching my kids run through the sprinkler to cool off. Where I live it is already heating up into summertime temperatures! I sat and listened to their shrieks of delight. It was a beautiful picture of childhood. And that’s when this pesky though crept into my mind; you really need a pool to be truly happy. This sprinkler is lame. Lots of people have pools. Look at what God has given you, your ‘blessings’…they are not very good.

Nice huh?

And then my little thought tirade continued, now moving from what the enemy whispered to my own thoughts. “Look at this yard. It’s SO small. I hate how tiny it is. I want, no…I need property. I’d be happy and content if we lived out in the country. My kids could run and play uninhibited. But we can’t afford to buy property…ugh.”

So now I’m sitting on my patio blind to the amazing that is in front of me. Blind, and now my heart is “chained up” in discontentment. 5 minutes ago I was free and just like that I forgot that I have the authority in Christ to walk in freedom. And I let the enemy tie me up.

Friends, we are in the middle of a war, and your heart is the prize. We have an enemy and he uses discontentment as a weapon to capture our hearts. And you know what, it’s very effective.

Discontentment as a weapon

With a few whispered lies and thoughts, my wandering heart forgets the joy before me. I just plain old forget how amazing he has been to me. How far he has brought me. How richly he has blessed me. How green the grass that I have really is! As I sat there last Sunday He so gently reminded me. I love that about him. No condemnation for my wandering, forgetful heart…just grace to remember.

5 years ago we moved here to this house. Before that, I spent 4 years living on the side of a mountain where it snowed 8 months of the year, had temperatures in the negatives regularly, and was 2 hours from the nearest Target! We were way out, living on a camp in Colorado’s backcountry. Our home had no yard and no grassy area for my little ones to run and play, and I prayed countless prayers begging God to allow me to move. As beautiful as it was there, all I wanted was to live where it was warm again, in a neighborhood, with grass in my backyard for my kids to play on! When we moved here, I remember dropping to my knees{on this beautiful green grass} in tears over his goodness. All my wants had been given to me by him. My heart was overwhelmed by how he had blessed me. The picture I was looking at last Sunday, as I enjoyed our beautiful shaded patio, with my kids healthy and happily running through a sprinkler {in May while my Colorado friends were getting another snow storm!!}… that picture is nothing short of exactly what I had hoped and prayed for! And yet, how easily I think it’s not good enough. How quickly I fall into the trap of thinking I need more to be content…

We need to remember how far our God has brought us. We need to recount His goodness. And fight against discontent. Friends, we’ve got to fight hard! I have found a simple way to fight back against those sneaky thoughts that the enemy whispers. I have a verse, a snippet of God’s word that I say back at those thoughts. “He has loved me with an everlasting love.”{Jeremiah 31:3} I even like to say it out loud. I know, it seems a tiny bit crazy…but for me, speaking God’s truth out loud strengthens me and sends the enemy fleeing. And something simple{yet powerful} helps too. He’s blessed me immeasurably in a lot of areas, but nothing compares to the way He loves me. I find that the chains of discontentment dissolve when I think about His everlasting love.

Will you fight with me? Will you walk in freedom with me? Let’s find freedom for our families because we choose to be content with what we have. Let’s find freedom for our marriages, because we celebrate the spouse we have. And freedom for our hearts as we remember all He has done for us!

-Kallie

Chipping away

May 18, 2016 / Guest Author

Several months ago something changed drastically in my life. For the last ten years, my husband and I have had the great pleasure of being empty-nesters. It has been a glorious time that I had dreamed of as a young mom. Those days of someone following me into the bathroom, or cries in the night were over and we were having a delightfully beautiful time in our marriage.

We ate where and when we wanted

We travelled with no worries of children at home

We participated in ministry with no sacrificing family time

Life was free of extra burdens!

Sounds fabulous, and it was until………..

My mother was diagnosed with dementia and required our assistance and so it began. I’d like to tell you that this “woman of God” (me), was happy to have her mother move into her home. Unfortunately, I was hesitant, to have my nice, pleasant life changed in this manner.

Have you been here? Have you been unwilling to allow God to use a situation to grow your faith?

God has and continues to use my new life with mom to chip away at my old self to create something new in me.

And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.

And hope does not put us to shame because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

Romans 5:2-5

Let me be honest, It has been hard, gut wrenching at times, confusing, sacrificial, frustrating and yet there has been joy in the midst. I know it doesn’t make any sense but somehow there is a new thing growing up inside of me.

Romans tell us that our problems can build character. It doesn’t tell us that it will be easy, fun or even exciting! I can attest to that! This process of chipping away at my old self is hard, and I struggle most days to see it as a blessing. However, when I look back over the months I can see His hand, leading me, His Spirit calming me, and convicting me of some stinky, bad attitudes, and His Son showing me how to live a life that bestows grace upon grace to others.

Would I choose this, no! I really like comfort and independence, but I said, “Yes” to serving God any way that He would call me to.

For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son,

that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters.

Romans 8:29

The chipping away is not just so that He can remove that which is not pleasant to him, but also so that He can remake us into an image that is beautiful to Him, to become Christ-like in our whole being. When I think about my life in those terms, it becomes less of a challenge and more of a gift. I can’t believe I am saying this, “Having my mom live with us is a gift that God is using to refine me. It is out of love that he called me into this season and I praise Him for it!”

He told them this parable: “No one tears a piece out of a new garment to patch an old one. Otherwise, they will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. Luke 5:36-38

The Father is calling us to allow Him to remake us any way He chooses so that He can fill us with new attitudes, new desires, new experiences and ultimately to be filled up to overflowing with His Spirit.

This is not for the faint-hearted however he has taken this stubborn, strong-willed child and given me a glimpse of what He wants me to be. Surprisingly, I am still saying yes because what He has to offer is more beautiful than anything I have ever known.

Where is He chipping away your old self? Are you willing to allow Him full access to redesign you?

Jann Cobb is a wife, a mom and a teacher. She loves coffee, Paleo and finding God in the everyday moments. You can hear more from her heart at http://www.janncobb.com

Keep your eyes on me

May 4, 2016 / Alyssa Gluck

Mondays are my favorite day of the week right now. I like fresh starts, non-work days allotted to cleaning house, and some of my favorite girls meet in my living room Monday nights to learn about God together.

But also, Mondays are my daughter’s ballet lessons.

After a day of wearing many hats, seeing unfinished items on to-do lists, and taxiing children around town, there is something super therapeutic about an hour in the dance studio. We run in frazzled, tie up ballet slipper laces, get the boys situated with their homework and eventually I sit down myself …and like clockwork the instrumental piano music begins – and I exhale. It’s like a breath of fresh air. There before my eyes, little girls on tiptoes in tutus twirl around to the beat of the music. There is no purer picture of beauty and innocence.

The warm ups and exercises are routine and even the boys can predict what is coming next. But there is something healing about watching the girls go through the motions again. Sometimes l slyly listen to a podcast while our little girl dances still catching her eye when she looks over to see if I’m still watching.

A few weeks ago I kept my earbuds off and just sat back and watched. I was struck by this one moment. Lining up at the barre the little ballerinas were aiming to perfect their pirouettes. Their wonderful teacher (who also attends the university where my husband works- bonus!) patiently stood across the floor and instructed the girls on how to “spot” when they were turning in order to stabilize themselves. The idea is to keep your eyes on one identified spot across the room, turn your body until the last possible second, then snap your head and lock your eyes on that spot again. For dancers, spotting helps alleviate uncontrollable dizziness especially while doing multiple turns.

And across the floor teacher stood bending down so she’d be at eye level with the littles and with a kind smile said, “Keep your eyes on me…eyes on me” and the girls locked eyes with her and spun their ways across the floors.

And somehow God whispered to my heart.

“Alyssa, keep your eyes on me.”

Sometimes life feels like I’m spinning and spinning so many different plates (my job, ministry opportunities/ mothering/ going to counseling/ writing/ learning how to be a better wife/ friend). And I often feel like I’m just spinning in circles getting dizzy by all I see around me. There are many moments lately where I seem to lose my balance and fall over in exhaustion.

When will I learn that in order to perfect my turns and not be defeated by dizziness- I need to keep my eyes fixed on one thing?

It’s Him. Jesus.

“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith” Hebrews 12:1

It’s the continual coming back to Him, again and again, and again. Being washed by His word, locking eyes with one who adores us and gives us purpose in this life.

When I continue to remember Him, who He is- the stability of His character, the perspective that life really is meaningless without Him: When I create time to be quiet before Him, read His truths in scripture, call out to Him in prayer..it’s then that I feel stabilized.

For all of us- He’s the picture of the ballet teacher with the long red hair, bending down low to catch the gaze of our eyes, smiling with acceptance and saying, “little girl- keep your eyes on me”… and then twirling away.

-Alyssa

Parenting by Faith: Adolescence

April 19, 2016 / Guest Author

Lord, please tell me what to do!

The helpless plea swirled around the room as I knelt by the bed, the door closed and locked, my mind reeling from a brief but loaded incident with my 12-year-old son . . .

My son turned twelve this week. At least I think it was my son. I say this because he is so different than he was just six months ago. He has the same hair, the same slow, deliberate walk, the same eyes, but sometimes I feel like the son I know, the sweet, mild-mannered delight with the ready smile, was abducted by aliens and replaced with a look-alike gremlin of raw testosterone.

green eyed monster And it rattles me.

Sometimes it drives me to a blind run on every parenting book I can lay my hands on. So, as I sat there, I frantically sifted through my options. Biblical principles and wisdom gleaned in parenting classes paraded erratically through my mind, but none addressed the problem directly — and I needed direct help.

Who do I know . . . ? My mind triumphantly fastened on a close friend that had successfully raised three boys — “successful” as in, they have respectable jobs, families, a walk with God, and of highest priority today —

they weren’t the death of their mother.

Bingo.

I snatched up the phone and dialed. “Hi, you’ve reached 555…” Not the machine! Deflated, I left a pathetic message and hung up.

Now what? My husband was out of town so I had no one else to consult.

I was parenting alone, stranded in a hothouse of pubescent testosterone with my man-child, and had no idea what to do.

Trapped without options, I knelt and prayed again, “Lord, please tell me what to do.”

Once again, the urge to scramble to the bookcase and ransack it for parenting help was immediate and strong. However, God chose that moment to remind me of a talk I was preparing featuring the sufficiency of Scripture to meet practical needs. In my notes I’d written, “Do you believe God will hear your prayers and speak to you? Is His Word really able to answer your questions and meet the need you face today?”

I was ready to challenge others, but was I ready to embrace the challenge myself?

Humbled, I decided to wait on God’s help and guidance from Scripture for my own pressing need.

A quick, definitive answer to my prayer didn’t come that day. But as I pressed in to God and listened and waited, He spoke deeply a few weeks later through my daily Bible study:

“God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

These familiar words caught at my heart as I reflected on the many ways God had expressed His unconditional love for me. My mind replayed instance after instance of God’s patience and unmerited kindnesses toward me. It was in the midst of these revealing ruminations that my son’s face appeared in my mind’s eye.

Carefully, I considered the passage again and God’s voice broke in on my thoughts, “Just as surely as you have needed and relied on My love, so your son needs unconditional love from you more than anything else today.” As God’s gentle words soaked into the freshly tilled soil of my heart I knew:

The transformation that needed to happen wasn’t within my son, it was within me.

That afternoon when my son climbed into the car after school, he looked different to me. Instead of the multi-headed, green-eyed gremlin, I saw a vulnerable young boy caught in the swift and unpredictable current of emerging manhood.

I saw a child who needed his mom to love him.

God continues to transform my perspective. He helps me see past my son’s erratic attitudes and into the emotional and spiritual battle surrounding his struggle toward manhood. And bit by bit, gems of wisdom tumble out of God’s Word and into my heart reminding me that I’m called to live by faith as a mom, too.

Today my son is still trapped in the jaws of the hormonal beast, and sometimes I miss the parenting clues God faithfully provides. But one thing is certain, I no longer view my son through a distorted lens of fear, I see him through the steady eye of faith —

— and love.

****

I wrote this story almost ten years ago and am thrilled to report that clinging to God’s Word and anchoring in His heart was indeed “enough” to impart the wisdom I desperately needed as we passed through the difficult passage of adolescence. As a result, God built a strong relationship based on unconditional love and trust that is still thriving today.

What about you? What is the biggest challenge you face as a mom?

Bethany is a writer, speaker, and Women’s Ministry Team Leader at a rapidly growing church in California. She writes Bible studies, dabbles in fiction, and has written articles for Focus on the Family and Christianity Today’s online resource for women. She has been a speaker for over fifteen years and loves helping women anchor deep in God’s heart to discover His unchanging love and powerful purpose for their lives.

When Bethany isn’t wielding a pen or wearing a lapel mic, she’s hanging out with her husband, kids, and a trio of puggies, all of whom provide endless inspiration . . .

You can book Bethany for your event at bethanymacklinministries.com, connect with her on Facebook or follow her blog at bethanymacklinministries.com/blog to anchor deeper in God’s heart today.

Revealing The Story

Page 4 of 12

a small bud blooms

Tangible

stepping out

just add water

Exhales and inhales

free fall

Greener Grass

Chipping away

Keep your eyes on me

Parenting by Faith: Adolescence

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