The Word Planted

Okay, I was not going to write this particular blog.  Well, I was, and then I wasn't, but now I am.  I just can't stand it anymore!

 I MEMORIZED THE ENTIRE BOOK OF JAMES!!!!!!!!!!

Whew!  There.  I said it.  I have been dying to share this with everyone I know since the day I committed the last verse to memory, but the fear of sounding as if I am boasting has kept me from doing so.  But I just cannot stand it anymore.  I had to share.  You need to know about this!  Everyone needs to know about this.  Why don't we know about this?  Or maybe we do and we are just not doing it.  Or maybe every one is doing it and I just don't know.   But if we really knew we would ALL BE DOING THIS!

Seriously, I could weep I so desperately want every person breathing to know this as it has become true to me over the course of the last year.  Oh yeah, did I mention it took me the better part of an entire year? Last fall, the ladies at my church began "Mercy Triumphs",  Beth Moore's newest study on James.  At the beginning of the study, she suggests several different levels of participation to choose from.  These culminated with a final challenge:  Memorize the. Entire. Book. Of. James. Ummm???  I am pretty sure most of us were thinking the same thing, myself included.  "Ain't nobody got time for that!"  Preachers and women who write Bible studies for a living, but not the rest of us with jobs and lives and seven kids for the love!

But then, right there on the screen in front of us she recited the entire book from memory.  As I sat there and listened to the words pour out of her mouth, something stirred in my heart and belly.  There was something so right about listening to the whole thing in one sitting.  It took on such fresh life and meaning for me I wanted to jump out of the pew and cheer when she was done.  Instead, I glanced around to make sure no one was looking as I stealthily put a check mark in the box that committed me to memorizing the book along with completing the study. I mean, it wasn't like I was really going to memorize the entire book of James, although it was a nice thought.  But it was cool to listen to her recite it, and hey, if it only motivated me to memorize a chapter or even a few verses, that was a good thing, right?

So I just started.  And here is the thing about James, in that very first chapter, he hammers us with the truth that the Word must be planted in us, saving us, otherwise we are at risk of becoming people who merely listen to the Word and so deceive ourselves.  Like people who look at their face in the mirror, and after looking themselves immediately go away and forget what they look like.  As I began to sow those words in my heart, I started to think about how much of my Christian walk I had spent in utter frustration.  Feeling like I would worship with my church on Sunday and come away filled up with the Word and walking in fresh conviction to live this thing out.  However, by Tuesday or Wednesday, that fire was already fading fast, and often by Saturday, I felt as dry as a desert again. Living by the flesh and not by the Spirit.  Not always, but often, my morning quiet time with the Lord was flat and lifeless.  I would remind myself that this was just how it worked.  That in the times I couldn't feel it, I was called to simply be faithful and push through.  While I think there is truth in that, far more often than I cared to admit, I sat down for that time out of  a sense of obligation rather than genuine desire and anticipation for an intimate encounter with Christ..

As I memorized however, that began to change.  There is something different about memorizing a large chunk of Scripture that I had never experienced.  As I repeated the words over and over and over . . .and over and over. . .and over. . . they became a part of me in an intensely profound way.  I found myself thinking about them and turning them over in my mind.  Sometimes I would stop in the middle of my daily activity to work on the next portion.  My appetite for the Word grew with every verse that I committed to memory.  My daily recitation as I practiced the verses began to morph into a powerful time of prayer, my heart pouring God's Word back out to Him.  I had tried praying the Word before and had always loved the practice, but it had never felt so natural and intimate.  Scripture took on life in such a way that I can hardly describe it!   As close as breath - convicting, encouraging, comforting, and filling me with such JOY!

Here is the thing. . . we already know this, right!?

     ". . .humbly accept the word planted in you which can save you."  James 1:21

     "Let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom. . . "       Colossians 3:16

    "Pay attention to what I say.  Listen closely to my words.  Do not let them out of your sight.  Keep them       in your heart because they are life to those who find them."  Proverbs 4:20

     "I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you"  Psalm 119:11

     "Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds" Deuteronomy 11:18

     "Bind them upon your heart forever, fasten them around your neck.  When you walk they will
     guide you; when you sleep, they will watch over you; when you awake, they will speak to you."
     Proverbs 6:22

And there are so many more.  The Word of God is meant to inhabit us.  It was entrusted to a people who did not have access to printing presses and the internet.  Who did not have bookshelves filled with NKJ and NIV and NASB and ESV.  If they wanted to meditate on God's word day and night, their only option was to engrave it on their hearts.  I think we instinctively know this truth but somewhere along the way we have lost the understanding that this is not a simple, spiritual discipline to teach our kids.  This is not about words on a page. Our very access to intimacy with the Word Himself hangs in the balance.  Our ability to resist the Enemy and stand firm.  These Words are our offense and our defense.  Sword and shield.  Living Bread and Water and Life itself!  But we are not consuming it, eating the sweeter than honey words so that they are filling up our bellies and hearts and minds.  We are like starving people sitting at a table laden with plates full of the richest food, desperately hoping it will nourish us, yet so frustrated when we remain weak and hungry - unwilling, or maybe unaware that we have to pick up the fork and eat.

Listen, I know what you're thinking.  But I am telling you, if I,with the attention span and self-discipline of a gnat, can do this ANYONE can do this.  You have to do this.   Pick your favorite translation, pick a verse, a chapter, a book,  and just start.  Several times over the course of the year, especially when the actual Bible study had ended, life would get busy and my motivation would wane, but a dear friend who was also memorizing the book would spur me on (and may or may not have tweaked my very slightly competitive nature).  Find someone to memorize with you, who will push you.  But just do it.  I PROMISE you that it will change your life.   I promise, however busy you are, that you will never regret one second of the time you spend sowing the Word in your heart.

"Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the water; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat!  Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost.  Why spend money on what is not bread and your labor on what does not satisfy?  Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare"    Isaiah 55:1,2

Every one of us is invited to the feast.  Eat and be filled!


P.S  -  Philippians is next.  I would love for you to comment if you want to join me.  We can spur each other on!

All In

Fall is, by far, my favorite season!  I love everything about it.  The smell of smoke hanging in the air from bonfires, bright green grass colored with puddles of red and gold leaves, perfect weather for sweatshirts, boots and coffee.  It means a reprieve from the heat of summer, the best days for trail rides and the promise of refreshing to come over the winter months.  It is also a time of reflection as we wrap up another season of ministry.   Considering what God has done over the last 6 years on this insignificant little piece of Illinois flatland is humbling to say the least.  What began as an offering of a few acres and a couple of horses to the Lord has grown into a vibrant community of people working, serving, playing and seeking after Christ together.  The Ranch has encountered a variety of challenges alongside significant growth in the last 6 years, but in every moment our deepest desire has been that Christ would be made known through the volunteers, the horses, even the beauty of the property itself.

One of my greatest joys in serving at the Ranch is how aware I have become of the changing seasons and the cyclical patterns found in nature.  Spring, summer and fall bring with them a great deal of hard work as our horses, staff and volunteers seek to pour themselves out for the kids and the families who have become a part of Refuge.  Winter brings a much needed time of rest and refreshing for everyone.  Often by the end of October, as we are wrapping up our season of work, I am beginning to feel overwhelmed, fatigued and even burned out.  However, in the midst of that is the knowledge that a season of rest is coming.  I know that by the time we are approaching the threshold of Spring I will be looking forward to the new season with great anticipation and excitement.

This year began no differently.  We launched the season with much excitement for what the Lord had in store.  We felt incredibly blessed to be able to add another staff position and we rejoiced as the number of kids in our mentoring program grew.  We celebrated what the Lord is doing at other Ranches across the Midwest at our annual Ranch Fellowship and we prayed with great expectation forbroken lives to collide at this place with His extravagant grace and mercy.

This year, however, in the midst of the typical bustle of the Ranch our personal lives took some twists and turns.  Our family has been talking about adoption and foster care for a very long time.  Too long, in fact.   From the very beginning of our marriage, and for the dozen or so years that followed, we talked and agreed as a family that the Lord was drawing us toward this path.  For years we discussed it, we prayed about it, and we wrestledwith timing and the fear of letting go of our comfortable, familiar lives. However, in the summer of 2012 God did some radical things in our family and we found ourselves faced with a challenging question:  Were we going to take a step of faith and be obedient to His call or were we going to continue to make a multitude of (very reasonable sounding) excuses and sidestep the path that He had been persistently 

laying before us?  We chose obedience!   (Better late than never?) And so began one of the most incredible, thrilling, terrifying, faith-building roller coaster rides of our life.

As we began the process we struggled with the idea of  adding so much to what already felt like very full plates, and wise friends counseled us to consider this carefully.  However, we were also excited for the unique resources that would be so readily available to us.  We knew that having the Ranch in our backyard would allow our family and kiddos unique access to the wonderful, Christ-filled community that has taken root here.  What a tremendous asset!  We realized that it was going to be overwhelming at times, but we also trusted with all of our hearts that when we are weak, He is strong.  

And so with much joy, anticipation, and trembling, we began the process:  classes and interviews and enough paperwork to take out an entire forest.  We felt led to open our home to whatever child the Lord would bring us, or perhaps a pair of siblings.  We were prepared to either foster children who had a strong hope for being reunited with their birth families or to go further still and throw wide our hearts and lives to the possibility of adoption.  What we never anticipated was that He would bring us a group of four amazing, resilient, brave, precocious siblings that would stretch our family in every way possible. 

Over night our cozy, little nest of three would grow to seven. Nine of us  sharing one roof.   In a whirlwind of activity we did our best to  ready our home and hearts for what was to come.  Bunk beds and mattresses and organizers to try and stretch the capacity of our tiny closets to impossible proportions.  Bedding, extra towels and dishes, and much, much, prayer.  We were humbled by the outpouring of love and support from our incredible family in Christ.  This process has so deepened my understanding of our need for the church during the times we are stretched beyond our own limits.  Those first weeks are a blur to me.  I remember joy and the thrill of new adventure.  I also remember exhaustion and sitting on my bathroom floor—a sobbing, overwhelmed mess—wondering if we were ever going to figure it out or find a new rhythm as a family.  Precious friends encouraged me and reminded me that His grace was sufficient.  Others prayed and brought us meals.  Some just listened to me cry.  Every word and gesture was a crucial lifeline. . .a tangible reminder of His mercy and provision. 

Over the coming months the kids began to settle in.  Courageous little warriors fighting to find their own rhythm amidst so much change and trauma and loss.  The Ranch, or more specifically, the community here, did prove to be a tremendous blessing.  Our new kiddos connected immediately with our staff and some of the volunteers and Ranch kids.  All of the them were infatuated with  the horses, however Sammy, the oldest of the bunch, fell head over heels in love with everything about them, including barn chores, praise the Lord!

Even so, I had begun to question whether or not we could, or should, continue the Ranch ministry.  I was utterly overwhelmed with trying to juggle my responsibilities at the Ranch alongside my clumsy efforts to make such a large family run smoothly.  More often than not, my house was in shambles, phone messages and emails went unanswered, ranch administrative tasks went undone and we won’t even talk about the panic I felt every time I looked at Mt. Laundry.  Stephen too was struggling with all that he had to shoulder in addition to his lovely, over-emotional, basket case of a wife.  I did my best to press into the Lord.  Some days I succeeded.  Other days were failures of epic proportion as I gave myself over to wallowing fits of self-pity.  “Surely,” I thought, “the Lord does not want us to continue like this.  This is not what He intended.”  Perhaps we had simply been called to the Ranch for a season and it was time to move on. 

As I trudged forward I often allowed my thoughts to park on my struggles and failures—both with the Ranch and in my difficulty adjusting to our new life, and in doing so I gave the enemy much purchase in the battlefield of my mind.  There is nothing Satan likes better than the stronghold of insecurity which can so easily render even believers useless for the Kingdom!   I began to seriously doubt, not only my ability to handle Ranch responsibilities, but the effectiveness of Refuge as a whole in sharing the hope of Christ.  Were we even accomplishing anything for the Kingdom?

However, even as I wrestled with all of this, desperate for reprieve, longing for life to be easy again, my heart continued to return to the same resting place:   I could live with busy.  I was willing to deal with overwhelmed.  I was desperate to lay my life down for the sake of anything Christ was calling me to.  But I had no desire to spin my wheels or run myself ragged for anything less than that.  Even amidst all of the noise and chaos, I knew the only question that mattered was whether or not He was asking us to be faithful in the context of the Ranch.  The fruit was not my responsibility.  That belongs to Him alone. 

With newly surrendered hearts and unclenched hands, Stephen and I began to seek God’s will.  We prayed earnestly, genuinely willing to give up this ministry which we had both grown to love, or equally willing to dig in and spend ourselves if this was where He wanted us.   I sought counsel from Godly friends and delved into the Word, allowing my heart and all of my painful insecurities to be laid bare before the only One who is enough to fill that ugly, cavernous void.  Slowly but surely, my world began to come back into focus through the corrective lens of Scripture.  Inch by inch, clarity and peace reclaimed the places I had surrendered to doubt and insecurity.  

There are still days I find myself locked in the bathroom, mopping tears and wondering what on earth I have gotten myself into, though they are much fewer and farther between.  But in those moments the Spirit whispers precisely that:  This is no earthly thing.  We do not battle flesh and blood.  We are not fighting for earthly kingdoms, but for the things of eternity.  This life is worth spending if one child or family will find Life! For this, I am all in. Every bit of me surrendered so that I may gain Christ!  “For whoever clings to his life shall lose it, and whoever loses His life shall save it.”  (Luke 17:33)  There is nothing worth clinging to except Christ Himself.

As is so often true in the upside down economy of the Kingdom, defeat, sorrow and loss surrendered to Christ become overwhelming victory, joy and eternal gain that cannot be destroyed by moths or rust.  It is in this context that we are wrapping up a sixth season at the Ranch.  Where I usually find myself exhausted and burned out, I am filled even now with joyful anticipation for what is to come!  We are ridiculously excited to announce a partnership with Lake Springfield Christian Assembly for the 2014 camp season.  Refuge was invited and accepted the privilege of serving as camp missionary next year.  As a staff and leadership, we are already dreaming about specific ways that we can more intentionally share the gospel and invest in the spiritual growth of the kids who participate at the Ranch.   And personally, we are finally beginning to find that rhythm as a family.  Not that we have arrived!  Not even close.  But more than ever, the cry of my heart is this: 

     “I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of His resurrection and participation in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death,and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. 

     Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.  Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it.  But one thing I do:  Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                  Philippians 3:10-12

The Rhythm of Trust

What a wild ride.  I have always been a bit over the top.  A bit given to emotional swings.  I call it passionate.  Some might call it manic.  I laugh loud.  I play loud.  I get mad loud.  My husband will tell you this is NOT an overstatement.  I have a favorite everything!  Things tend to either be amazing, or awful and I rarely feel anything in between.

There are many things I love about my passionate personality.  I tend to be absurdly impulsive deeply motivated to act when I become convicted or excited about something.  I am fiercely loyal and I feel things- frustration, love, anger, joy, sorrow- bone and soul deep, which for the most part, I consider a good thing.

Oh but there are times, and this is one of them, that I long for a more steady, even keel personality.

I have never been so overwhelmed in my life.  Or so lonely.  You know, the kind of lonely where you are in a crowd full of people and still feel completely alone. The dumb, self pitying, no one else knows what this is like, kind of alone.  But there it is.  Here I am.  The frustrating thing is that so much of the isolation is self imposed.  And I know this.  I am surrounded by people who love me, and who love Jesus, and who I know would probably give me a kidney (don't hate - I have some good community around me) if I needed it. What is it about struggle that tempts us to disengage from the community that we so desperately need and  then taunts us with the lie that we are alone?

Right now, the roller coaster is stalled in a place I don't love:  mourning what has been lost.  I've discovered something interesting about families.  We each have our own family culture.  You know, all of those things that make your family 'home' for you.  Foods we all like to eat, games we like to play, t.v. shows we like to watch together.  There is this comfortable rhythm that comes from having spent most of our lives together.  For the most part we laugh at the same kind of humor, enjoy many of the same activities and just get each other.  I hadn't considered what it might be like for cultures to collide when we added four new people, with their own rhythms and culture - not even taking into account the genuine cultural differences that are inherent in trans-racial fostering/adoption.  The realization that we would need to let go of some of that culture to make space for God to build something new, and the letting go?  It's hard.

This is all so difficult to communicate.  We are asked regularly how the kiddos are doing, how we  are doing.  And the truth really is they are doing GREAT!  Over and over again we have been humbled and amazed by the determination and resilience these kids have exhibited in the face of more trauma, transition, and loss than most of us could imagine.  They have offered us much grace as we sometimes, in our efforts to heal, unintentionally cause more pain or damage.  Sometimes it feels like trying to navigate a mine field.  They are working their tail ends off to catch up at school.  They are trying so hard to meet a whole new world of expectations.  They have courageously opened their hearts to our friends and church family.  They are fighting with all their might to connect and attach, though I know this is terrifying for them.  And with every passing day, I see more and more glimpses of what is to come.  And I know. I KNOW.  He is making beauty from ashes.  That what He rebuilds will bring more joy and purpose and glorify Him beyond anything we could have constructed on our own.  But some days are hard.  And I am struggling with the hard.

I miss easy.   I miss comfortable.  I miss natural intimacy and relationship.  I miss not having to fight so hard for joy.  And I am ashamed at how spoiled I am. How easily I allow my joy to be stolen and how shallow my gratitude really is.

But in the quiet moments, when my heart is stripped bare before the Lord, hands open and empty, I have heard Him ask. . .do I love him enough to hate even my family in comparison?  Will I give up even the thing I so struggle to hold loosely.   What's more, do I really trust Him?  Do I believe,  really believe that He is able to make something even more beautiful than I could ever ask or imagine?   That perhaps what I thought was so good was only a dim shadow, only the tiniest hint, of the joy and grace that He wants to work in my life.  And in those quiet moments, the answer is, "Yes!"  In those moments that I glimpse the beauty and the good He is starting to work, I trust it with every ounce of me.  And I am praying for the sanity  maturity to know this in every other manic moment as well.  And in the mean time?  I'll stand on grace.

More Than Okay

So I did it.  I drove to the third largest city in the United States and delivered my daughter into the hands of complete strangers who, for the next four years, will have the greatest earthly opportunity to shape and direct her future.

We sweated as we climbed way too many stairs and laughed as the dads struggled to stack and rearrange furniture with too many of us crammed into the tiny, un-airconditioned dorm room.  We drank coffee and marveled over the pretty oasis of a campus nestled in the crowded, urban neighborhood. We ate really, really good Crab Rangoon and Pad Woon Sen from a gem of a dive across the street.

We visited the book store and bought the obligatory college gear.  We listened to convocation speeches and drank more coffee so that we would not fall asleep during said speeches, and sang the NPU alma mater.  We concluded the evening with a picnic dinner and worship service designed to turn already emotional parents into certified basket cases.   And then finally, we did the inevitable.  We hugged last hugs and sniffled last, "I love yous" and took last looks and awkwardly said our, "See you laters." And I did okay.  I really did.

Because I know she's going to be okay.  More than okay.  This was always the goal and even though I never will be, she is so ready.

Tucked into a small chest I left her this letter.

Ladybug,

So, I am sitting here staring at a blank screen and everything I try to write doesn’t come close to communicating all that I want to say, or sounds so very trite.  You know, “How did we get here so quickly?” and “Where did the time go?”

But really?  Where? 

I know we have joked much about me not having an emotional breakdown, but now that the moment has actually arrived, I am not so sure.  I hope you’ll indulge me. 

It’s been true. . .sending you off on the greatest adventure of your life really hasn’t been as hard as I expected, mostly because I am utterly and completely blown away by the woman you are in Christ.  When you know that your daughter’s heart desires God’s glory above her own there is confidence in her ability to choose well.  When your child is compassionate and kind and broken hearted for a sin-sick world, you can trust she will live a life of service that will bring her joy and purpose.  When your daughter is more in love with Jesus than all the trappings of the world, you know that her life will be filled with contentment and happiness that all the money in the world could never buy.   And K, I know this all to be true of you.  You have taught me so much about trusting that God is faithful.  How could I not be overflowing with joy and excitement for the journey ahead?!

Still, I have no doubt that the enemy would love to see you fall into a pit.  Faith like yours is dangerous and he will seek to hinder your effectiveness for Christ any way he can.

He will prey on your insecurity and tell you that you are alone even when you are surrounded by people who love you.  You are NEVER alone!  You have a family who ADORES you beyond expression.  You have an incredible community at Chatham, at Lakeside, and spread around the world.  People who have known you for a year and people who have known you for a lifetime and who have all been just as affected by your amazing heart as me.  Don’t you ever let Satan make you believe that lie for one second.  You are never alone. 

He will try to convince you that people better and smarter than you do not believe in this Christian nonsense.  At some point, you will probably go through this faith crisis and that’s okay!  God has not asked you to suspend rational thought.  Christianity is true.  It can withstand digging and questioning and prying.  Brilliant men and women have been brought to their intellectual knees by the power and truth of the Gospel.  When that time comes, be honest.  Ask questions. Doubt.  Wrestle.  Dig into the Scriptures.  But you fight.  You fight to find the truth, and if you do that, I know that you will ultimately find the Life the Truth and the Way.

He will seek to distract you.  With boys.  With friends.  With work and classes and stress and media and anything else that can make you less effective for the sake of the Gospel.  Be focused.  Live every moment with intention and purpose.  Nothing else is worth abandoning your life for. . .and in doing so you will find Life!  Life that is real, and that overflows into the world around you like streams of living water into the desert. 

He will tempt you to use your gifts for your own glory and gratification.  And you are so gifted, but those talents belong to God alone and they were given to you for one purpose:  to make known the only One worthy of glory.    Worldly recognition and prizes are so much garbage in comparison to the reward of finding your place in the Kingdom and drawing others to the mercy found at the cross.  Nothing else compares!  There is joy and peace and purpose and fulfillment here that can be found nowhere else. 

He will do his very best to tailor make a pit designed just for you.  I want you to be aware and guarded.  But so much more than that I want you to be confident and secure because You belong to the One who has orchestrated every moment of your life to bring you to this place at this moment in time.  Dream big!  He has a plan beyond anything you could ask or imagine and you are standing on the edge of that cliff.  Ready, set. . .jump with abandon!

There has been NO greater joy in my life than to watch who you are becoming in Christ.  That feeling grows for me with every new adventure you take.    As I think about you leaving it truly does feel as though my heart could break.  But I have such confidence in your ability to navigate this next part of the journey and I am filled with such joyful anticipation when I think about your future that the sorrow is nearly swept away.  Nearly.  Your dad is going to have to endure some tearful moments from me, I think over the next days.  Maybe weeks. 

When you are overwhelmed, Home is always here.  I will be there in the blink of an eye if you need me.  When life gets too heavy or serious, pop in Gilmore Girls and watch the episode where Kirk does the freaky, interpretive dance.  Bahahahah. . .Remember the one?!  I am only ever a phone call or a train ride away and I will be praying for you with every ounce of strength I possess.  As much as I want to hold onto you, you don’t really belong to me.  You are His alone.  When everything else in life changes, that truth will remain.  Abide in it.  Abide in Him..

I love you.

Mom

It Is Good

How can this be possible?  I am thinking all of the things that old people say.  With every year, the days go faster.  Perhaps Having 9 people under one roof can make things spin a little faster out of control too.

How can so much change in a year?

In 4 days, I will get in a car and drive my eldest to Chicago, move her into a dorm room, and turn around and leave her there.  By herself.  To live.  I will drive away and she will stay.  How is this possible?  And how is it possible to all at once feel such a clanging storm of joy and sorrow, anticipation and dread.  I am so genuinely take-my-breath-away excited for her, but I am so selfishly sad for me. Poll for you parents who have been here. . . how much is too much to call that first week? Is there a way to block my number so she doesn't know it's me for the third time that first day?

Ummmm.......

What the heck just happened?

Also. . .this:

The Beast

This happened.  Move over soccer moms with the minivans, there's something meatier.  My nephew lovingly dubbed our new crew the 'expand-a-family' and with it there was apparently need of an extend-a-van.  I am  not sure what this thing says about our desire to live simply, but 9 Daniels can all travel together in one vehicle with room to spare.  And it's good.  Every, crazy, loud, fun, hard, scary, sad, joy-filled minute is grace.  And it is good.

10 Things You Should Know About Me

To my 500 and some closest friends on Facebook. . .there is something I need to tell you. Some things I need to get off my chest. I have been living a lie. For those of you who look at my pretty, instagrammed pictures, carefully worded statuses and the very selective bits of my life that I have chosen share, you have been deceived! Contrary to what I seem to want everyone to believe, I am a hot mess, and for some reason today I feel the need to purge. So here are 10 things you should know about me:

1. I am the world's worst communicator. Okay, so this one won't come as a shock to all of you who know me well. I am horrible at answering my phone (or even knowing where it is most of the time), returning messages or texts and keeping in touch. I hate phones and email and voice mail and gah! I am just terrible at this!

2. I am horrible at finding balance in my life. Again, shocked anyone? I either obsess about everything and insist that it is perfect or I give up completely and abandon all efforts. My house tends to either be spotless or a complete pit. There is no in between. I am either on top of the world or ready to throw myself in front of a bus. This makes me so much fun to live with. Seriously. Ask my kids.

3. I don't sort my laundry. None of it. Jeans, whites, brights, towels, delicates - they all go into one merry load. And I seriously cannot remember last time I ironed anything. I don't even know if I still have an iron. Bliss.

4. Nothing in my house stays organized for longer than 2 seconds. I try. Really I do. I drool over pictures of beautifully arranged linen closets and laundry rooms on Pinterest. I spend hours putting everything in bins and baskets and alphabetizing spice racks. And somewhere, someone hits a reset button and it all just reverts back to chaos.

5. My car and van are always a mess. A gross, disgusting, embarrassing mess.

6. I am terrible at praying. This one is hard. I so want to be good at this, faithful in this. When I tell someone I will pray for them, I want to spend real time before the Father - lifting them up and pouring myself out on their behalf. Most of the time I end up uttering a guilty, quick one-liner because the truth is I have forgotten and just not made the time. When others say that they have been praying for their children's future spouses since the day they were born, my stomach knots up with guilt. I have not prayed for my husband or my kids with anything close to that kind of faithfulness.

7. We have never successfully done regular, family devotions. We try really hard to talk about God and His unending love for us - "when we are at home or driving down the road. When we lay down at night and get up in the morning." All the time we hope that our lives and conversations are seasoned with authentic discussions, praise, learning and challenging each other regarding the Scriptures. But we have tried what seems like a hundred different formats and books only to ultimately peter out or give up on every form of organized, regular family devotions.

8. I throw world class temper tantrums. Seriously. Ones that could shame the fiercest 2 year old.

9. I hate field trips. And class parties. And school activities. I have never baked my kids a home made birthday cake or been in the PTO and I avoid chaperoning anything like the plague. I love my kids. Really! But I am so bad at this part of being a mom.

10. His grace is sufficient for me. This is the one I'm going to choose to remember today.