Author: Terri Sestina

“You’re going to remember picture day, you’re going to remember picture day” I told myself during the week leading up to the big event. I hung the reminder on the fridge and set it in my phone calendar. In an effort to keep it fresh in my mind, I asked my first-grade man what he’d like to wear for picture day.

“Hmmm”, he said. “How about a camera shirt!” His eyes widened at the brilliance of this idea.
“Ummm”, trying not to burst his bubble, I gently reminded him, “you don’t have a camera shirt”.
“Maybe we can do that thing! You know, like how the lady made my blue blankey. What’s that Mommy?”, he asked so innocently, making me realize my son doesn’t even know what sewing is because he’s never seen me sew or mend one item in his whole life and likely never will.
“Sewing?”, I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes!!!, he exclaimed! We can plug it in right here!” He flung his hands out toward the outlet as if revealing the stage to a Broadway performer.

Impressed he knew such devices required electricity, I broke the news that his mommy didn’t own a sewing machine.
He looked dejected.
“BUT!”, I said in a true Mommy MacGyver moment. “Your sister has a camera shirt that’s too small for her! What if we use it to make one for you?”
He seemed intrigued by the trash the treasure idea. We dove in with some scissors, fabric tape (not sure why I even had that in my crafty bin of tricks…obviously due to the no sewing thing) and fabric markers and in less than an hour we had a perfectly vintage looking camera shirt that would ensure picture day was remembered in the morning!

I wondered if I should write a note to his teacher explaining that the shirt was his idea. Should I put a button up over it? Are they going to think I was trying to be clever? Are they going to think I forgot it was picture day?
No, I decided, if he wants to share his story with them, he will. Otherwise, the important thing is we will always have this memory of making a vision come to life; turning a dream into reality. It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks. My baby left for school proud of his creation. Something he envisioned became a tangible item in a matter of minutes, with just a little teamwork!

It may seem silly but I pray this first grade photo stands as a reminder to him that visions can become a reality. You see, my boy has a dream in his heart. He wants to build a hotel that will help house homeless people.

“There can be rooms just for homeless people. And there can be beds for the mommy and daddy and the kids too. And they will have a scan card so if they don’t have money, they can just use their scan card to sleep there. And they can use it to get food, like room service.”

He’s talked about this many times. He’s described it in detail. And when he sees a homeless person, he says it again, “if they had a hotel, Mama, that didn’t cost money, they could just go there. Or if we give them all of our monies, they can stay at the hotel.”

As a parent, I have a choice. I can brush off these statements as childhood innocence and give them no validation or I can pour believe and value into my sweet boy’s dreams and remind him, with God, all things are possible.

I choose the latter.

I choose to affirm his desire to serve and help others by providing ways to love others through service now. I choose to share my own dreams with him and work every day as an example of how to make them happen.
And I choose to foster his creativity by helping him turn an old stained t-shirt into a one-of-a-kind camera shirt for picture day.

So many of us have given up on our dreams. Life has knocked us down too many times. Our circumstances have robbed us of innocence so we’d rather teach our children to be “realists” rather than “dreamers”. To play it safe, rather than get hurt.

I refuse to pray safe prayers for my kids. I’m not talking about their protection. I’m saying, I want life to knock them for loops, throw curve balls, test their faith and strengthen their resolve. I want them to take shaking steps of courage. To face their giants afraid but brave and to hold tight to the hand of their Heavenly Father who walks beside them all the way!

I want them to know a vision can become a reality if they put faith in action and stay the course. I want them to trust the desires God has placed in their heart even in the face of adversity and against the robbers of fear and doubt. I want them to live with the boldness needed to be a strikingly different light, shining in a dark world that so desperately needs them.

I want them to look at a world of ratty old too-small t-shirts and see brand new camera shirts ready to be made!

This sweet baby had her two year old checkup yesterday. She was all smiles showing off her verbal skills and chanting a precious “thank you” every time the doctor examined another area of her little body. Her contagious smile with those two little dimples brightened the room, until the finger prick. It was the tiniest vial they needed to fill for a routine lead test but it might as well have been a gallon bucket. It was one tiny prick with the needle but then the nurse began to squeeze and squeeze her little fingertip in order to fill the small vial with blood. With every squeeze, my baby girl cried harder. With every squeeze, her expression became more frightened and confused. It was as if she was thinking, “what is happening here? Everything was going along fine. Everyone was nice. But now, suddenly, I’m being tortured! Why is this happening to me and when is this going to end?!”

I tried to explain that her blood was being drawn for a reason. But all she saw was blood and all she felt was pain. Even though her pain had purpose, she couldn’t understand the event that was transpiring. Shear panic had set in and no amount of logical reasoning was going to speak peace to her two year old mind.

Our pain is often poured out for purpose. Life gives us tiny pricks. At first we may think, “this isn’t too bad. I can handle this.” But as more hurdles and challenges come our way, we begin to panic. The events unfold and our unwanted and undesirable circumstances squeeze and squeeze every drop of strength until we feel we have nothing left.

Have you ever felt like that? Are you there today?

This life will always bring moments of pain and suffering. But isn’t it incredible to know, we have a God who is working all these things together for our good?

The Cross gives us the ultimate image of pain poured out for purpose. As Christ bled and died, the very life drained from his body, there was purpose in every drop of blood that was shed. Every drop erased a sin from you and from me and secured our home in Heaven.

Friends, as difficult as it is to believe when all we see is our current circumstance and all we feel is pain; God has a purpose. When your strength, your energy, your peace, your joy, your faith feels like it’s being squeezed and squeezed until you have nothing left, look to the Cross and trust your pain is poured out for purpose.

As we sat in the doctor’s office yesterday, I held my sobbing girl and gently repeated “this will only hurt for a little bit. Then it will be all done. It’s to make sure you’re heathy and strong. It will be ok. Soon it will be better.”
I wonder, has my Heavenly Father watched me cry and longed to explain the pain I suffered was for a purpose? Has He held me and whispered, “this will only hurt for a little bit. It’s to make sure you’re healthy and strong. Soon it will be better.”?
I believe He has. I believe He is.

Oh, how I wish I could give purpose to your pain today and tell you it will only hurt for a little while and soon will be all done. But friends, unlike my daughter’s finger, most of our problems can’t be consoled with a Care Bear Band-aid and a kiss. Some of our wounds have lingered so long, the band-aids have long worn off, no salve has brought healing and every day we wake to a reminder that the pain and the hurt is still there.

The child with a condition or disease we can’t take away. The balance in the bank account that we can’t seem to increase. The family member with an addiction we aren’t able to help. The diagnosis from the doctor we can’t change.

It would be glorious if I could tell you exactly why such trial has entered your life and what beauty may be born from it. But I don’t know and you may not either until you see Jesus face to face. I would love to tie up your pain with a pretty bow, packing every answer to every question nicely inside the ornamental packaging but I don’t believe that’s what we’re called to do. I believe we’re called to be so real with each other that identifying another’s pain, will give purpose to ours.

After her rainbow Care Bear Band-aid was applied, my sweet girl looked up at the nurse and with tear-filled eyes, in between weepy gasps, whispered “thank you”.

If we truly learn to trust our Father. I mean, really trust that God is good all the time, He gives us the supernatural strength to say in every circumstance, through trial and pain, “Thank you. Thank you”.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my goals lately. It’s not an unusual thing. In the marketing industry we’re trained to constantly be setting goals, making vision boards, creating game plans and reevaluating our journey. However, I’ve found myself in an odd place of not knowing which small steps to take. I have the big dream. Our vision for Providence is huge! It’s going to take work and tons of money and many willing hearts to make it work. Most importantly, it will take God aligning all the steps to bring it to fruition. I don’t doubt the dream and I know He knows how it becomes a reality but with a really big vision, finding the next steps to focus on can be difficult.

Imagine you’re walking through a foggy valley. In the distance you can see a beautiful vista as the sun peaks over the horizon. It’s breathtaking and you want to be there. You know you’re headed there. You’re certain you’ll love it there. No doubt, it’s where you’re going. But, when you look directly in front of you, the fog has covered the path and you’re not sure where to walk. Putting one foot in front of the other is frightening because you can’t see if you’re stepping onto solid ground. What if there’s a rock or a root to trip on? What if a snake is hiding beneath the fog on your path? What if you trample through mud or poison ivy or step on a hornet’s nest? What if you step right off a cliff?

These are terrifying scenarios if you’re moving forward so maybe you should stand still and wait for the fog to clear. Yes, stand still. What if you stand still until nightfall and are trapped in the wilderness alone and afraid? What if a bear comes? What if it rains or you run out of food and water or you have to make a tree your toilet?

Again, all valid concerns. So maybe you should just turn back? Give up on the vista. Stop heading toward the mountains. Go back to safety. Get out of the fog. Leave the journey of what-ifs to someone more capable, better equipped, and more experienced at taking these arduous steps.

The last two years have felt exactly like this. A few brave steps forward followed by long nights trembling in the dark foggy valley. A decision to turn back. A decision to try again with a few more brave steps into the unknown.
Do you feel me, friends? Or am I the only one who’s ever taken this pathway?

I have a feeling, I’m not alone. I have a feeling that as you read these last few paragraphs, you were envisioning your own valley. The steps you took to expunge your debt, were met with another emergency that wiped out all your progress. The steps you took in couseling to save your marriage, collapsed in vain to another act of indiscretion. The steps you took to make your dreams come true; build a business, start a nonprofit, write a book, become something, become someone, met with adversity that caused you to retreat. The steps you took to be a better parent, employee, friend or sister were met with impossible expectations leaving you defeated, slighted and heading back to the safety of what is known, what is familiar and what expects less of you.

That place. The place behind you. The place you run back to, yes, it is easier there. It is safer. It is well-known, the path well-worn and you don’t even need to see to walk it. It’s so familiar you could navigate it with your eyes closed. It’s easy, less stressful and well, just okay. It’s an okay place. It’s fine and if you choose it stay, that’s fine too. It is. God will not love you less if you stay or more if you don’t. But do you really want to stay? Are you really fine with fine? Are you really okay with okay?

I’m not. You see, before I was born God said I was made for more. He said Greater was in store. And He said the same of you. This isn’t prosperity preaching. I’m not talking about wealth and having more material things. I’m talking about using the talents and gifts God gave you and igniting the passions He placed in your heart. If the dreams in your heart are from God, why would a good good Father not also help you in every way possible to achieve them? His word says he will:

“However, as it is written: “What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived” the things God has prepared for those who love him”, 1 Corinthians 2:9, NIV

“God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.” Ephesians 3:20, The Message

“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” 1 John 3:1

So I’m not okay with okay. I can’t stay in that old familiar place. I must head to the vista. Even if the path isn’t clear. Even if I get stuck in the mud, or hornets sting me, or snakes bite me or bears attack me. I must keep taking those small brave steps forward. Because, and here’s the secret my friends, it’s really all about the journey.

Yes, the vista is incredible; the mountains spectacular. But the journey through the valley is what you’re here for. This is where you’ll grow. This is where you’ll learn and this is where you’ll bear fruit. With every brave step through the fog, you’ll make a deposit of faith that will spur you on to the next step. With every thorn you entagle with and every enemy attack you face, you’ll build up faith muscles that will prepare you for the next battle.

What’s wrong? Doesn’t sound as glorious as the vista or as easy as retreating back to safety? It may not be. But trust me on this, it’s the good stuff! It will build you up in ways you never imagined and make you appreciate the vista in ways you never would have before.

My biggest fear isn’t what is hiding along the pathway in the fog. My biggest fear is staying in the safe place and always wondering what could have been if I’d have just kept taking those small brave steps. Even when the next step is unknown. Even when you’re not sure it’s the “right” step. Take the step. All that matters is you’re moving. You’re adding to the journey. You’re taking the steps.

Small.Brave.Steps.

Sometimes we have to look back at where we’ve been to remember where we’re going.

This photo popped up recently, as this little one turned two and it immediately reminded me of one of the most difficult, uncomfortable but incredible places I’ve been.
As soon as she was born, I asked two questions… “does she have dimples?” & “how long was my labor?!” They couldn’t tell yet if she had dimples but from water breaking to delivery had been 33 hours.

My sister jokes I mention this “33 hour all natural v-bac labor” story as often as I can and it’s sort of become an inside joke in our family. But the truth is, when my doctor told me how long I had been pushing through the pain, I raised my hands in the air and shouted, “I can do anything”!!!!
It was singularly the most exhausting and exhilarating experience of my life and, in that moment, I resolved I really could do anything. I was capable of so much more than I had realized!

That superman feeling lasted about three days.

Somewhere in sleepless nights and constant feedings and a body that looked like someone else’s, I began to feel completely the opposite of capable and strong. Quickly, I fell back into the same old patterns, believing the old familiar lies that I’m really not cut out for greater in this life.

Have you been there, friends? A moment on the mountaintop where you resolve, “things are really going to change this time”, only to be lulled back into complacency as that old record of “not enough”, “never going to happen”, “incapable”, or “unequipped” plays over and over in your mind?

I’ve been there.

Not just in my “33 hour all-natural labor” victory story but in so many other instances.
I don’t know what your mountain-to-valley moments have been. Maybe it involves the relationship you desperately want to mend. The bills that keep piling up. The marriage that keeps coming to the same crossroad. The doctor’s report that looks bleek. Or the dream inside you that seems an impossible reality.
But I do know, that record of lies does not have to keep playing and you are not meant to dwell in the valley; not forever.

There’s value in the valley and much to be learned there but if you never leave, what was it all for? How will redemption’s story be told?
Ruth Graham said, ” mountaintops are for breadth of view and inspiration but fruit grows in the valleys”.
The truth is, we need them both. We need moments like 33 hour labor to make us shout, “I can do anything!” But we also need the days that follow to sow, water, weed, and prune through the mud so fruit can grow.

In one of my favorite songs (that has been on repeat recently) Lauren Daigle sings,
“I keep fighting voices in my mind that say I’m not enough
Every single lie that tells me I will never measure up
Am I more than just the sum of every high and every low?
Remind me once again just who I am, because I need to know
You say I am loved when I can’t feel a thing
You say I am strong when I think I am weak
You say I am held when I am falling short
When I don’t belong, oh You say that I am Yours
And I believe, oh I believe
What You say of me
I believe”

It doesn’t matter what the old record keeps playing in your mind because the truth is, God says you ARE enough. You ARE loved. You ARE capable. You ARE equipped. And because He is enough, you can climb mountains and plow valleys. Because what He says of you is greater than any old lie other voices are telling you. Because He can do anything, YOU can do anything!

Don’t despise the valley. Tend to the plow. Watch for the fruit. And take your steps; one, after the other, after the other. Push through the pain, back to the mountain where you’ll raise your hands in the air and exclaim, “I can do anything!”

I sat down to enjoy a cup of magical coffee in one of my favorite mugs and the ‘It is Well with my Soul’ which usually gives me peace was leaving me strangely discontented. I stared at the words as if somehow they would start to make sense but my heart and mind were far from being “well” and burning the words into my brain wasn’t helping me sort out the feelings or make sense of the emotion welling up within me. No God, to be honest, I’m not really feeling the It is Well today! In fact, I’m feeling quite the opposite.

I had just received a message that a teammate of mine who had been battling cancer for several years was now in ICU fighting for her life. Although I didn’t know her well and we had only had the privilege of chatting face to face a few times, her journey of faith through all of this had made such an impact on me. The same day, I saw another friend post that the report on her Melanoma came back and it was not good. More spots, more treatments. My thoughts raced for both of these sweet mommas and the single thought that kept repeating over and over was, “what about their kids?” How are babies supposed to grow up without a Mommy? That’s just not fair God, not fair at all!

I wanted to make sense of it all. To create a poetic explanation that my heart and mind could accept and once again all would be well, but I couldn’t. Nothing, in that moment, was helping me move past the ache I was feeling, not just for these two women of faith but for all who suffer with battles. For all the hurt in this world, for all that is unfair, unjust and unreasonable. I refused any cliché statements, “this too shall pass”, “keep your chin up”, “time heals all” because they neither brought comfort nor offered any salve for the raw wound that was now taking residency in my heart.

My mind needed resolve so I wanted to re-read the story of this old iconic and might-I-say-over-commercialized-at-the-risk-of-offending-anyone hymn. It Is Well With My Soul was written by Horatio G. Spafford, a successful lawyer and businessman in Chicago.
The Spafford family were not strangers to tragedy. They lost a son to pneumonia in 1871, and in that same year, much of their business was lost in the great Chicago fire. The business was successfully revived in years to come but their loss was not over.
In 1873, Mrs. Spafford and their four daughters were traveling across the Atlantic from the United States to Europe. Mr. Spafford had had stayed in Chicago for business and planned to join the family in Europe a few days later.
About four days into the crossing of the Atlantic, the ship Mrs. Spafford and her children were on, collided with another ship and slipped beneath the dark waters of the Atlantic. Over 200 passengers, including the four Spafford children were taken with it.
Mrs. Spafford was saved by a sailor who spotted her floating on a piece of wreckage. She wired her husband the now famous telegram which began, “Saved alone, what shall I do?” Another survivor aboard the ship later stated he heard Mrs. Spafford say, “God gave me four daughters. Now they have been taken from me. Someday I will understand why.”
Mr. Spafford left on the next ship to join his grieving wife. It was on this journey, traveling over the very place his daughters lost their lives that Spafford was inspired by the Holy Spirit to write “It Is Well With My Soul”.

It is well. Was it now? After reading the history again and gaining an understanding of the tragedy that wrought these words, was it now well with my soul? Actually, all I could think was, how was Mr. Spafford able to say this? How did he get out of bed? How did he take in breath and keep putting one foot in front of the other? How did he? And how do we?

When tragedy and terror strike so deep, how do we keep going? And how do we move from not well to well?

There is only one place I find answers like this, my friends. It’s not in reading the words of others, no matter how powerful they are and how deeply they impact me. There is a sacred place I run to when nothing in this world makes sense. It’s the place I was created for, as were you. It’s a place that no one or no thing can destroy. I call it the Garden, but you may call it Home. It is that divine place within your soul where the Holy Spirit dwells and you find yourself centered on the only thing that matters, the One Truth that remains in a lost world full of hurt and lies.

In this Garden, I am nothing but a daughter; a princess of the King. My other titles fall away as I bask in the arms of my Father. I have but one purpose here, to worship Him alone. It’s only me and my God; my Papa, my Lord, my all in all. In spirit and in truth I come. Just as I am. He already knows every hurt, every doubt, every question. He’s already counted every tear that has fallen before I entered this secret garden. And He’s already provided my answers. They are found in Him. He is the answer!

We sway to a slow and steady rhythm as he gently dances away the pain I came in with. He lifts my face and I smile, letting him wipe away my tears. The present moment is the only thing that exists, and, in this moment, my only thoughts are of Him. The past is gone and the future rests in His hands so I’ve nothing to be concerned of. I rest.

The rest is sweet. Not like the rest you find in this world. Not of sleep and dreams and vacations. It is pure. Undefiled. And every part of my soul is quenched. My soul then, is well.
When I leave the garden, He’s still with me. The secret of walking through this life is keeping one foot in the garden while tending to our roles in the world. My soul remains well even if my heart and mind can not comprehend the soul’s stillness.

“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll”

In the Garden, the soul finds peace that passes understanding.
As I finish writing this, my warrior friend who was in the ICU passed away. She is worshipping Jesus like she loved to do but her family and friends are grieving.
My heart is breaking and my mind can not make sense of it all but my soul; my soul is well. It is well because it rests solely in Him. It needs only one thing and that need is always met in full measure, in the fullness of His presence.

For now,
It is not well with my heart.
It is not well with my mind.
Yet, it is well with my soul.

Sometimes God speaks at the most unexpected times. Every year at our annual conference we hold a worship service. It’s my favorite part and it’s always an incredible blessing to see thousands of fellow distributors, arms raised in praise. I went this year expecting to enjoy the experience as always but sometimes God has more in store. As we were singing the song “No Longer Slaves” by Bethel something stuck out at me that never has before. I’ve listened to that song a million times, sang it in church, belted it out driving down the road and done some serious shower concerts to that tune but that Friday night at conference, as we sang,

“From my mothers womb
You have chosen me
Love has called my name”

I remembered something. I was chosen from my mother’s womb! 38 years ago, my mom gave her life to Christ. At the alter, God told her the baby she was carrying would serve him and have a special calling on her life. I was that baby.

I’ve known that story for years but the truth is, I sort of forgot about it. The weight of it faded to the background and I never thought much about it.
Until that night.

As we sang, “I’m no longer a slave fear. I am a child of God.”, the reality of my calling felt heavy in the air. He chose me, from my mother’s womb! Love himself called my name! So why am I dragging my feet on doing what I know I’ve been called to do? Fear.
I wept as we sang, “I’m no longer a slave to fear” because inside I knew there was still a struggle going on.

I’d love to say a few months later I’ve completely conquered that fear but the truth is, the voice of fear is always close by. Daily it whispers, “This isn’t enough, it isn’t good enough.” “What if this writing offends someone or has grammatical errors or is taken out of context?” “What if you waste your time doing it and it never helps anyone?”

Fear is ugly and loud and the very thing that may be holding you back from your calling in Christ.

Friend, you may not have a story like mine; a calling from birth, but I assure you, you DO have a story about being chosen from your mother’s womb. It’s found in Jeremiah 1:5 and it says,
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”

Your nations may be in your neighborhood or your office building or within the walls of your own house but it’s not any less a calling from God.
Wherever you find your feet today is your mission field. It’s where you’ve been set apart to serve. It’s your divine appointment.

For today, push fear aside and serve bodly as a profit to your nations. Maybe that means seeing the hurt on a co-workers face and bringing her flowers from your garden. Maybe it means speaking with gentleness as you get your kids ready for the day. Maybe it’s opening a conversation with your spouse to talk about things you’ve been burying. Maybe it’s reaching out to help a friend who’s been overwhelmed by the chaos of life and helping her fold a load of laundry or taking her kids for a few hours allows her to breathe for the first time in weeks.

Where are your feet today? Be a profit to those nations. You have been set apart to speak life, share love and give hope.

Let Faith live louder than fear.

Have you ever sat outside at midnight, listening to the rain while sipping wine, eating chocolate and talking to Jesus under a big white cross?

I have. Just last night in fact.

It was amazing! But what was more incredible than the actual event and the peaceful moment I enjoyed was the realization I had while sitting there.

I want to write. I need to write. It’s my calling. But do you know what comes to mind and whispers doubt every time I get serious about writing?

I was 25. Dan had just deployed and I was in my first few years of teaching. I had finished my Master’s degree and decided now was the best time to continue on and pursue a Doctorate. Why not? He was gone. We had no kids. It would keep me busy and I could get it done before life got too hectic.

Plan made, I searched for online programs and found one I loved! The only thing I needed to do in order to apply was take the entrance exam.

The test scored three areas: verbal reasoning, quantitative reasoning and analytical writing. Okay so verbal, check. Writing, check. Ughhh quantitative? Ummm is that like math? Let it be known numbers and I do not get along. I knew I’d have some serious study and review for that section but one out of three wasn’t bad so I registered, prepped and headed out for test day!

I remember it being super intense. I practically had to remove my shoelaces before going in to the secure testing facility. But I felt good! It seemed to be going well and I was definitely nailing this writing portion. Exam complete, I waited for my results.

I logged in to my account and anxiously pulled up the scores online. I was so afraid of what that math score would reveal. I needed a certain number in each area to get into the post graduate program and I knew it was all riding on that math score. I squinted at the screen and slowly peeled my eyes open. YES!

I scored just high enough in the quantitative section to not have to take it again. Verbal reasoning, awesome. Writing, what????! I looked again. That can’t be! I didn’t pass writing? Ok so it wasn’t pass/fail but in my mind I failed because I hadn’t scored high enough to submit these scores. This writing score would not allow for entrance into the program.

How did I not score high enough in writing? Writing is my thing! My passion. The one thing I’m really good at! I was devastated.

I ran to the bedroom of the tiny trailer I was living in, flopped myself on the bed in defeat and cried for hours! (You have time to reeeeeally wallow in sorrows before you have kids.) I finally put myself together enough to get the words out, “I didn’t score high enough in the writing part” to call my best friend.

She basically told me exactly what you’re thinking wgile reading this now, “Get over it. You’re being way too dramatic. This isn’t a big deal. Just take it again. Who cares?”

I remember her saying, “well you finally failed at something. Good! Most people fail at stuff all the time”. But it wasn’t that I failed at SOMETHING, it was that I failed at THE THING. It was the thing I cared most about for as long as I could remember. All the way back to diaries with little locks and rhyming poems on blue and pink lined paper.

I could put thoughts to paper when I couldn’t speak them. I could “bs” my way through a million college essays. I could create resumes for friends that had no experience and make them look like pros. Words were my jam! But I failed.

I did take it again. And I scored higher and I got into the program (which I later quit to move), but it didn’t matter. Every time I would start to “do” something with writing, I would envision me curled up on the bed in that old trailer crying over the low score and once more the lie would whisper, “I’m really not cut out for this writing thing.” Over and over and over again.

Have you been there, friends? It sounds ridiculous, even to me, admitting something this insignificant has held me back for nearly ten years, but that’s the game the enemy loves to play. Satan loves to take something small, something you aren’t on the lookout for and turn it into a mountain. Afterall, he only needs a foothold to create a stronghold.

I fell straight into the trap and stayed there. For years!

Last night was pivotal because I finally heard God whisper one very important truth. Writing isn’t my thing. Writing about HIM is my thing! When I took that test I was writing on the random topic they assigned. I actually remember. It was park regulations for skateboarders. And while I married a former skater boy, the topic does not evoke any passion within me whatsoever.

My Jesus on the other hand, THERE is some passion!!! I didn’t need to score high on the writing portion to write about Him. I just needed to spend time in His presense. And you know what pulls me closer into His presence? Hard stuff in this life! Hard stuff like failing tests and feeling inadequate and standing firm against the lies of the enemy.

He weaves it all together friends. Failures and passion, the lies we buy into and His ultimate truth; He weaves it all together in a tapestry for Good! For our good and for His glory, He weaves it all together!

I don’t know what lie the enemy has whispered over and over in your ear. I don’t know what stronghold has held you back from your calling in Christ. But I do know this, whatever it is friend, God is greater. He is using it to draw you closer into His presence where He can speak truth into your mind and breathe life into your soul.

Stay there.
That’s where you’ll hear Him. Whether it takes ten minutes or ten years, His truth will drown out the lies. His Grace will sustain and chains will break.

Let’s talk hot messness. I am a self proclaimed hot mess mom. And even though in the last few months, I’ve stuck to a healthy eating plan, workout regimen, earlier wake up routine, daily quiet time, consistent use of natural wellness products and overall intentional use of time, I am continually reminded I still don’t have it all together. For example, I was totally on top of things yesterday by cleaning bathrooms and washing all the bathroom rugs, only to wake up this morning to snow and realize I’d left all the rugs outside “to dry”. My crunchy frozen rugs are not the only reminder of my missteps. This morning held a new one, even for me! My daughter woke up 2 hours earlier than normal and wanted a banana. I fed her (because that’s not a battle you want to fight at 5am), changed her diaper and put her in bed with us to try to get her back to sleep. However, I forgot to throw her diaper away and an hour later rolled over to realize I’d been sleeping with my head on a smooshed wet diaper! No wonder I was dreaming about kittens using a litter box! I know, I know, I’m disgusting but at least it wasn’t poop.
Fast forward my morning to arriving home from the gym where I once again attempted to open our back door with the unlock button on my keychain. You know, the one that goes to the car. Have you done this? I do it at least twice a week and if I’m especially sleep deprived and rocking full mombie mode (that’s mom/zombie for those of you not familiar) I’ll actually get irritated that, after several clicks of the button, the door is not unlocking!
Y’all. I run a successful business. I coach a team of nearly one thousand. I consult with hundreds of clients. I manage a household of two small children and a dog that sheds enough to knit sweaters for a small country. I minister to and encourage others daily. I write. I pray. I meditate. I exercise.
And I try to unlock my house with my car clicker. I sleep on pee soaked diapers and I freeze bathroom rugs in the snow. This is me. And to be honest, I like the mess.
I like the mess because it keeps me humble. It reminds me I’m not perfect and that’s perfectly okay. It reminds me the process is more important than perfection. I’m not defined by the mishaps and chaos in the world around me. I’m defined by whose I am. You see, God doesn’t see me as a hot mess mom who accidentally sleeps on wet diapers. He sees me as unshakable, unstoppable and fully equipped for every good work! That’s why I can minister. That’s why I can encourage. That’s why I can help you grow, even while I’m growing.

Because I don’t have to be perfect. I don’t have to have it all together in order to be used by Him. And you don’t either, my friend. You are perfectly imperfect right now, just the way you are. Whatever mess you might find yourself in today; trust the process, trust through imperfections and trust the One who finds you lovely and capable, no matter what! ❤
#sharethemess #lifeunfiltered #pathtoProvidence

I ran up to my office to grab something this morning and stopped. This is the window behind my desk and I never tire of this view. We moved here in January 2017 with huge dreams but with a newborn and a brand new environment to adjust to, it proved to be a more difficult year than we ever anticipated. Over and over through the past year I’d glimpse the cross as I picked up socks, fed children and ran from one activity to the next. It’s in those weary moments of motherhood, early mornings working my business and late nights tying up loose ends that the cross brings me comfort. “Just keep your eyes on the cross.” a good friend told me several months ago when I started to doubt His plan.

Just keep your eyes on the cross. He never promised it would be easy, He promised to be Faithful. And indeed, He is faithful. There’s been a shift in our home, in our business and in our mindsets the last few months that fills me with hope and reminds me we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be! But through it all, I was reminded HE is all I need. Yes, it’s wonderful when circumstances align and things seem to be “going our way” but when they don’t, that’s when He’s up to something big! If things aren’t going YOUR way, maybe they’re going HIS way. Trusting the process, especially when there’s pain in the process, is arduous. But the outcome, my friend, is glorious!

Keep your eyes on the cross.🕇
#atthecross
#pathtoProvidence

At the root of hate is hurt. Raw, aching, endless hurt. And hurting people, hurt people. How do we remedy hurt? Through love. Through hope. Through generosity in community with one another. We can make legal changes but hurt will still remain. We can point fingers and pass blame but hurt will still remain. We can share social media posts but hurt will still remain.
Hurt will remain until each one of us looks in the mirror and asks, “how am I part of the problem and how can I take action towards a solution?”
If I think of myself more highly than others, I’m part of the problem.
If I value providing for my children over nurturing them, I’m part of the problem.
If I spend more time on technology than I do engaging in real relationships, I’m part of the problem.
If I turn a blind eye and think tragedy could never happen to me, I’m part of the problem.
We each have a gift to share. Time to give. A hand to extend to someone who is hurting. And it begins right in our own homes.

Love and Light friends. Xoxoxo❤