I Don't Want That Chapter Title

It’s as if our life is written in chapters.  And for many years, we look forward to those chapters or even hope they’ll come to be written.  We are the 16 year old who can’t wait for more chapters.  College.  Boyfriend.  Friends.  Moving.  Adventures.  Planning a Wedding.  Marriage.  First Baby.  Glorious chapters that for most are written and we wait for them.

But then, it happens.  The chapter we never wanted written.  It comes in the darkness, unexpectedly and there in our book of life is a chapter, several chapters we never asked for, hoped for, or thought surely wouldn’t be in our book.  Divorce.  Addiction.  Parental failure.  Infertility.  Premature death of child.  Early loss of parent.  Financial loss.  Adultery.  Becoming our Mom.  Confusion.  Discontentment.  Being that Mom with Raging Toddler in Target.  Anger.  Yelling lots.  Panic attacks.  Depression. Distance from spouse. 

Chapter after chapter.  We didn’t want.  Or we don’t have, but begin to fear with a gripping stomach fear that becomes the basis of all our present choices…as to avoid the future chapter title we hope will never be published.  Because it would just break us. 

And the truth is we don’t trust Jesus would be enough when that dreaded chapter gets written.  He won’t be able to heal me.  Help me.  Comfort me.  The broken pieces scattered around will just hurt too much.  I won’t even pick them up.  And I’m really not sure He will either. 

Cause somehow it was probably my fault. 

Pressure.  So now I have a chapter I never wanted, and pieces I have to pick up all by myself.  Alone.  Scared.  Ashamed. 

So we fear.  We used to be without fear, but now we have it.  We fear a life that is impossible.   And so we put out our arms and try to juggle.  We find the best schools.  We read all the great books.  We attend conferences and programs.  And we do it all with a heart of fear.  Fear if I don’t, then that unexpected chapter title will find me.  And the fear has poisoned our joy. 

For to the extent that we fear the unexpected, will be the extent we distrust Jesus to be enough. He is enough.  Today.  He is enough for your today.  So let Him be.

And all of a sudden the energy is nowhere to be found in putting forth worrying about what may or may not ever happen.  Cause you’ve realized the weight of choosing wisdom in today requires enough.  More of you than you ever thought.  Cause it's all just a little harder than you thought it would be.  And that's what's so gripping to your core.  

He is your Savior.  Let yourself feel the wretchedness you need saved from.  Let the juggling act crash.  And it might just not be as bad as you think.  Such hope in trusting.  Freedom in letting yourself be helped and loved.  By Him.  Cause it’s not your fault.  You don't have to live in fear of that Chapter Title.  And He does love you.  

Almost 38 weeks

Shootin' Some Hoops

Lucas is back to basketball this winter.  And just like last year, we cut his hair off for the season.  Always makes him look so much older, but even more so this year.  I think we will be spending many future winters in a gym.  

And his coach!  We love love his coach this year.  He's encouraging, smart with the game, and I can tell loves teaching basketball.  Not to mention his patient heart with the kiddos.  And he's also super handsome and holds my hand walking into the gym.  Here he is...

I love watching Lucas play basketball.  I look forward to next winter 'cause Brody wants to play, also.  I love my husband and the life and leadership he brings to our boys' lives.  

This is the Gospel. And it isn't Always Pretty.

So many of our choices throughout the day, throughout our lives are not worthy of thinking through right or wrong.  For if we deem something right….then what?  Then we want proof.  Prove to me it was the right choice.  I’m doing the right thing.  Give me results that benefit.  Or a feeling of accomplishment with the choice.  Good.  I am a good person and I made a good choice.  Righteousness, that which we seek is righteousness. A life where my perceived control is reality.  

A life I understand. 

We keep seeking, trying.  

Seeking a continual knowledge of right or wrong with our choices forces us either into a self-proclaimed understanding masked over fear, or it takes us eventually into a gripping awareness that left to ourselves, we know nothing. 

We feel the truth that the world is not as it should be.  It’s kinda falling apart.  The sadness suffocates.  Death is always near.  Brokenness is staring at us all.  And just maybe a few right choices on our part can put it all back together.  

But it doesn't work. 

This is the gospel.  And it isn't always pretty.  This isn’t the gospel you heard at age 7 during vacation bible school.  This isn’t the prayer someone told you to pray and all will be saved.  This is the gospel everyday present as you place your two feet on the carpet.  For within every hand raised in worship, tear stained face of gratefulness.  There must be a bloodied knee that can’t stand overcome by the darkness.  Overcome by all they can’t make right, but so desperately want to try.  You want to make right, do right.  I want to do right.  

But can’t. 

The gospel is realizing all that isn’t right, and as you look at the picture of darkness, there’s a person in that picture you shockingly recognize.  It is you.  And that’s a good thing.  Cause it’s not you versus the world, darkness.  Sin.  Cause you lose.  

The credit is never yours.  

And the freedom is realizing we don’t have to fix what feels so broke.  It’s Jesus versus the world.  The darkness.  Your darkness, your brokenness.  

And He wins.  The gospel.  Let Him fight.  And then, and only then, does the gospel get to be 

beautiful, 

glorious 

good news.  

Christmas 2011

We got fancied up and went to see the Nutcracker.  

We explored bookstores with hot chocolate.  

We had visitors.  Yay!

We lit candles on Christmas Eve and worshipped.  

We ate clementines, cinnamon rolls and breakfast burritos while opening gifts. 

We went ice skating.  

We ate, and ate, and ate lots of chocolate and other desserts.  

We drove around in jammies and looked at Christmas lights.  

We prepared our fourth son's room.  

We lit candles every night and loved to just stare at the tree.  

We bought each of the boys one golden gift they were thrilled to open!

We gave and mailed many gifts to neighbors, friends, and family.  

We rejoiced.