Pull your husband close and dance barefoot in the kitchen.
Cradle your littles and kiss those chubby cheeks.
Hug your tweens and tell them they’ll always be your baby.
Grab that teenager and tickle those stinky feet.
Pray in the car.
Point to Jesus.
Serve when it’s hard.
Choose love when it hurts.
Be thankful.
Gather your family for meals every day.
Speak life every chance you get.
Choose worship over worry.
Live,
Read,
memorize,
and teach your children
The Word.
Give honor to the One who created your family.
Fall in love with Jesus by falling on your knees.
Courageously pour hope into your home.
Stand your ground, mammas.
have a mother’s courage.
đIt means so much that you’re taking this journey with me.â¤
Drop your email for a FREE SEVEN-DAY DEVOTIONAL: CLICK HERE FOR DEVOTIONAL
It’s Foster Care Awareness Month. To be honest, I wouldn’t have known that if we weren’t a foster family. But I’m thinking, for those of us living in SoCal, it would be good for us to start paying more attention because Los Angeles has the highest number of foster children in the NATION!
The. Nation.
Thirty-thousand kids are currently in the foster care system in LA. I had no idea before I started this journey. Our sweet foster daughter is from LA, and they called us because NO ONE WOULD TAKE HER – This is common. There are not enough foster families in LA, so the overflow calls get sent to Orange County and beyond.
On a side note, she just turned one and we couldn’t be more in love with her!Â
I’ve had a lot of people ask me what it’s like– if I’m worried how it will affect my kids, and how we’ll feel if she is reunified with her bio parents. I’ve found it’s common for people to misunderstand what foster is and assume we “get to keep her” now that she’s been placed with us. I shared many of the same misconceptions about the system before we started this journey, so I thought I’d share some thoughts on the subject.đ
I’m attempting to keep this non-emotional (not a typical blog post for me!), and as informational as possible. However, this is how I perceive the information based on my personal experience with foster care thus far. Also, when I approached my Facebook Foster/Adoption group with the questions of misconceptions, there was a much longer list than what I’ve included here. This blog is just scraping the surface of a deep and complicated subject. But I will say, for the sake of complete transparency: The system is incredibly broken.
Misconceptions about Children in Foster Care
Foster care means adoption.
I’ve had well-meaning, precious people say, “Congratulations” âŚnot understanding that a kid who has been removed from their bio parents by DCFS, was taken because they were in danger of, or were being neglected or abused. However, the goal of the foster care system (judges, attorneys, social workers, therapists, investigators, rehab centers, parent educators, foster families) is to reunify these precious kiddos to their biological families. Adoption is the last resort and a result of their biological family not being well enough or safe enough to take them back home. For most of the foster families I know, if the adoption took place, it took two to three years to finalize. I have friends who’ve had children living with them for two years, and then they reunite with their biological family.
2. Parents who have their kids taken by DCFS really don’t want their kids.
In my experience, nothing could be further from the truth. The court has given them a “case plan” designed (in theory) to provide them with the tools and healing to be the parents they want to be. I’ve heard many foster families say they wish they could take in the biological parents into their home, too. They need love and a family to support them. Unfortunately, with a large percentage of foster youth parents having been in the foster system themselves, that support is usually not set in place. And let’s be honest, no social worker, attorney, judge, or therapist can replace the healing power of a loving family, leading a child to a loving God.
3. Once you have a foster child in your home, you won’t have contact with the biological family besides court dates.
Biological parents are usually granted visitation with their children (even if they are in jail or rehab). We started with seeing our foster daughters’ mama four hours a week, then it was increased to nine hours a week. Some foster agencies will transport and monitor the visitation for the foster family. We, however, have been responsible for transporting and supervising the visitations for baby girls (until recently). The parents have court given time to work on their “case plan” and towards reunification–attending visitations and bonding with their children is typically part of that plan.
  4. Foster families are emotionally stronger than other families.
The number one comment I receive is, “I don’t know how you do it, I would get too attached.” Guess what? I am super attached. I’m no different than you, no foster family is. We aren’t stronger than anyone. Surrendered, yes. Strong, no.
If you are a person who would get too attached to children in foster care, then guess what?! You’re the perfect candidate to be a foster parent. Attachment is what these kids need.
Things you may not know:
*Statistics from CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates)
It means so much that you’re taking this journey with me.⤠I’d love to send you a FREE SEVEN-DAY DEVOTIONAL: CLICK HERE FOR DEVOTIONAL
I heard the click of his light and waited for the invitation. Silence. Why wasnât my Eli calling for me?
Maybe heâs praying, or stretching, or reading with a book light? Was something wrong?!
Iâll tell you whatâs wrong – my boy is growing up. And Iâm not ready.
I crept out of bed and peeked into his room. He looked longer, his jaw a bit wider, with those man-boy feet (now bigger than mine) sticking out from his Star Wars blanket,
âAre you okay!? You didnât call me to âKentuckyâ you inâŚâ
He opened his eyes, cracking a smile. Had he lost all his baby teeth?
âOh, my goodness! Youâre freaking out, I just thought it was too late to call you.â He laughed. Apparently, my mama-meltdown was hilarious.
But something squeezed at my heart, âNever. Itâs never too late. You can always call me!â
And just like that, I realized my longing to be understood was much like my Heavenly Fatherâs. How many times had he sung the same ancient truth over my life- Itâs never too late, you can always call on me.
âThe Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer you; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am Iâ (Psalm 145:18 NIV).
Being a mother reminds me Iâm made in the image of God. And although the love I feel for my kiddos is a teeny glimpse of His love for usâŚthereâs nothing on earth more consuming and eternal, besides God himself. Itâs that big. At times when Iâm desperate for my son to hear my words, God confirms -He feels the same way about me. His Spirit pleads, “Why arenât you calling on me, daughter?”
Heâs listening at the door of my heart while I sit in the dark, cold and unsure. Always present, but desiring me to utter His name, to invite Him to turn on the light. But I make excuses- Iâve waited too long, my need is too great, or the most dangerousâŚmy need is too small.
What areas of your life do you hold back from Godâs loving comfort? In what space do you prefer Him not to come? Where have you cuddled under the lie, âMy longing is too insignificant for Him to careâ? Push these things aside; theyâre smothering your access to child-like faith. All we need to do is, âcry for help, and He will say: Here am I.â
P.S. I reserve the right to tuck my “babies” into bed as long as they live under my roof. I’m fairly certain it’s in the Constitution somewhere…or a Dr. Suess book. Either way.
Our bird mamma is back. Penelope- the one thatâs decided our rotting patio cover is the perfect place to build her nest. I love this crazy, determined, cutie-pie bird.
The irony is not lost on me. I feel like Iâm observing a bird version of myself. All the hopes of my heart to adopt over the past five years seem overshadowed by the decay that surrounds them. Five years of broken expectations. Four failed adoptions â one international, three domestic â chipping away at the strength of my spirit.
But here I sit, day after day, choosing to knit my nest together with Godâs promises, while everything around me threatens to cave in.
what do you believe god’s promises are for you?
What is your nesting egg? The desire of your heart that you believe God planted? Have you asked God to remove it if itâs not his will? I have. Over and over. Yet it remains. And even when the lies of the enemy are crudely constructed, attempting to cover up the promise that Godâs plans are to prosper me and not to harm me (Jeremiah 29:11a), His truth still is not obstructed. I can still feel it.
Besides, âhope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patienceâ (Romans 8:24bâ25 ESV).
I may have to grope clumsily in the darkness for a season, but itâs there. Because God is eternal and God is hope.
What is eternal cannot be extinguished.
Did you know the biblical word for hope, tiqvah, literally translates to cord, hope, and expectation? Itâs used in the story of Rahab. Sheâs instructed to tie a scarlet cord (tiqvah, hope) in her window to remain unharmed. (Joshua 2:18). Hope protects us. Itâs a holy signal to the enemy that he canât touch us. Itâs the scarlet cord we unabashedly display over our doorframe that cries out, âI belong to King Jesus!â
Grasping it like a rope, Iâve tried to âhold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithfulâ (Hebrews 10:23 ESV). I still struggle, asking God, Why are you making us wait so long for the desires of our heart?!
hold on tight to God’s promises. it’s worth it.
In all transparency, my hands have grown weary and calloused from clinging to the rope for so long. It hurts. My hopeful waiting has been seasoned with suffering. But isnât this part of the blessing? Callouses give us the ability to endure situations that would naturally tear our hearts wide open. It takes time and endurance for callouses to form.
In high school, I cursed the callouses that formed while trying to learn to play the guitar. However, the first time my fingertips were tough enough to press on the strings to play a worship song, I was flooded with understanding. The momentary discomfort Iâd endured made it possible for me to sing a new song of praise. I donât know all the reasons weâre asked to wait. However, I do know there is a perfectly holy reason for every situation. We are called to hope (Ephesians 4:4), and that means we are called to wait. Not just to wait but also to look.
In fact, the Hebrew root of the word hope is ka-va, meaning to wait, to look for. Faith-filled hope is active. When I find myself wrestling with discouragement, Iâm really wrestling with my passivity. Hope requires that weâre eager watchmen on the tower of our days, scanning the valley for signs of life.
Just like Penelope, who is oblivious to the rot around her because her eyes are on the tiny, yet wildly adored, promise beneath her. She waits. She watches. She constantly tends to the hope among the decay. Sweet Jesus, teach me to do this!
The idea of becoming foster parents was like realizing there was another egg in the nest weâd never noticed! Itâs only through the sustaining grip of Godâs love that we kept diligent watch over the ragged nest perched in our hearts. I praise God for the gift of hope. I thank Him for reminding me that hope is my protection, my courage, my confidence, my calling, and my strength! I raise my hands in praise, calloused as they are from clinging to hope, to the one that gives life to His promises.
âBut those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.â (Isaiah 40:31Â NIV)
God’s word is always the best source of encouragement! Click here for a beautiful printout of verses celebrating hope in Jesus:God’s Word-Marked by Love-Hope
Last week, I had a –how did my walls get this dirty?! – kind of day. Our adoption social worker was coming over to redo our home safety report (because they LOST the original. Yup.)
I can’t even. I found myself, knees pressed to the wood floors, scrubbing off fingerprints…or maybe they’re toe-prints? I don’t even know.
One smudge rallied so hard against my efforts- it was like a caveman painting fighting to not be erased from our home history.
So how did my walls get so dirty? Because people live here; little dirty people and big dirty people. This is our safe place; our “come as you are “place.
Let’s be real- Our safest walls are always the messiest.
When they walk through the doors of this house, I don’t demand they clean up right away. I don’t insist on showers the second they burst through the door from hours of bike-riding, or soccer-playing or middle-school surviving.
I let them rest a bit. Breathe a bit. Eat a snack. Grab a drink. I let them just…be. And although this is a picture of grace, it’s still not excusable for them to intentionally wipe a muddy cleat on my hypothetical white rug, or smudge a happy face on walls with their grubby fingers.
Our home parallels our relationships. The more intimate the relationship, the messier it can get. The safer we feel, the more careless we can become. There are days my hubby comes home and I soil his spirit with careless words, sarcastic comebacks, and hurtful eye rolls. All the junk that’s clung to my shoes and wedged under my skin from the day, I carry straight to my people.
It’s OKâŚbut it’s not OK. We have to take responsibility for checking the condition of our hearts when we enter our safe spaces. We canât treat our people like itâs their job to stand still and let us wipe our junk all over them.
When my kids come in stinky and tired, it’s true, I let them rest. But eventually, they’re getting in that shower y’all! It’s the same with our attitudes and spirits.
The home is where grace and discipleship should be profoundly weaved together. Healthy homes cannot have discipleship without grace, and grace is not effective without discipleship.
I try to hold my tongue when someone spills in my home. It’s simply human nature to mess up, but even more so, to sin. There’s no value gained by verbally ripping into my family, “Sin is not ended by multiplying words, but the prudent hold their tongues” (Proverbs 10:19).
However, I don’t allow them to walk away without taking responsibility to clean up. When the mess is dripping off the table, soaking my rug, I’ll snatch another towel and jump on the floor with my kiddo to help. At times, the stain is so tricky, I’ll need to explain how I know white wine gets out most anything. Â Our kids are still kids. We need to guide them on how to clean up the messes they make.
This same model of discipleship can be used when our kiddos verbally smear their siblings. I’m struck by The Message’s version of Matthew 18, âBut what comes out of the mouth gets its start in the heart. Itâs from the heart that we vomit up evil arguments…”
As parents, don’t we get it?! I know I struggle to remember this! It’s not the words we should be scurrying to mop up- itâs the âvomitâ collecting in our hearts. We offer astounding love when we help our kids notice thereâs a well from which they draw their words. Harsh words and attitudes don’t pollute the heart; they ooze from a polluted heart.
We all have days that leave our souls caked with mud-like frustration. It’s expected weâll need a safe space to wash up. But showing someone our dirty hands is different than shoving it on them.
Itâs my instinctual reaction to yell, donât you dare say that! or apologize right now! But Iâm praying for patience and wisdom. Maybe the question I should really pull my kiddos aside and ask is, why do you think you just said that? And instead of demanding a flippant apology, challenge them to think, why do you think Iâm asking you to apologize?
If we donât teach our kids, (and ourselves!) how to âheart checkâ in the midst of bubbling emotions, weâll be spewing all over our beloved home asking, how did our walls get so dirty?!
God’s word beautifully reminds us that our words have the power to give life. Check out these Bible verses for inspiration: God’s Word Marked by Love
I have baby onesies with no pudgy legs to fill them. I have space where I hung dresses for a job I didnât get.
Having empty space in our lives, doesnât mean weâre called to endure emptiness. Once a woman wept outside an empty tomb and was met by the hope of the world.
Remember Mary, the shamed woman whose heart was seen by Jesus? In Him, she was most likely cherished for the first time. Then she witnessed the desire of her heart mocked, beaten, and nailed to a cross.
Maryâs new identity was mercilessly pinned to a piece of wood. Her hope was in Jesus. And now it hung lifeless for the whole world to see.
Our desires may be holy and epic! For me, wanting to adopt is that one desire I feel Iâve been watching die a gruesome death. Itâs out of my hands. All I can do is stand aside and feel the fool for believing. Have you ever felt this way; that God entrusted you with a longing but it seems itâs a no-go?
Iâm guessing Mary may have felt this way. She proclaimed the hope of the world had come, and the next day they rolled a stone sealing His grave.
Still, she knelt outside the tomb, where her unmet expectations lay buried and dead.
Dying to self is a true death. And itâs OK to treat it that way. As long as we donât forget: We worship a God of resurrection!
Mary went to Jesusâ tomb, terrified and confused to find it hollow. She pleaded with the angels, asking where theyâd taken him. (John 20:11-18). Itâs not that she wanted Jesus to be dead, but itâs what she expected.
Sometimes, we’re so busy focusing on the hollowness of a situation…we miss the hallelujah!
Weâre so much like Mary. If weâve watched a desire of our heart be abused and buried, we visit the grave expecting it to stay that way forever.
We forget what hope looks like. When this happens, we can miss it staring us in the face.
Hope looks like Jesus.
Hope is Jesus.
Mary didnât even recognize Him when he appeared to her outside the tomb. She mistakes him for the gardener! (John 20:15) She was seized by the fact things didnât remain irredeemable. The world was whispering, “Whatâs the point? What you hoped for is still dead.”
But the world lies. Thereâs always a resurrection!  Whateverâs  lifeless, looks different after revival.
Jesus looked different. He was glorified. (Philippians 2:20-21) I think itâs why Mary didnât recognize Him right away.
Itâs the same with the desires of our hearts. Itâs not that they arenât lovely, but God has something planned to take our breath away! Something we havenât considered. Something impossible.
This. Is. Faith. Standing outside a graveyard and believing resurrection will come.
Weâre completing our Foster Certification. Something mind you, we said weâd NEVER do. God, through the past five years of loss and frustration, has been tirelessly crafting our powdered dreams into something completely different than what we expected to see. The idea of becoming Foster Parents was our equivalent of Mary mistaking Jesus for the gardener. We initially flipped out, âWhere have you taken our dead dream?!!â I just wanted to remain face down, ugly crying like Mary.
Sometimes, itâs easier to sit in disappointment then to step into the unknown. This is a big unknown for us! But I know the sweet face of hope. I refuse to mistake Him.
Weâre approaching a desolate space and expecting the impossible to happen.
Weâre expecting God to resurrect all that was lost.
Weâre expecting desires to look different.
Standing right in front of us, could be the glorified, holy, resurrected will for our lives.
Once, I swung open the front door of my mini-van, jumped inside, heard a growl, peeked over my shoulder and found myself face to face with two black dogs.
Seriously, who the heck put their stinkinâ dogs in my mini-van?!
Um. Yeah. Not my mini-van.
Itâs a bit terrifying how long it took to realize my mistake.
No one in the van was happy…and somebody definitely peed a little.
Hereâs the deal: Donât climb into someone elseâs mini-van uninvited. It doesnât matter how much it looks like yours. Same goes for our lives. Someone may appear to have a similar life, outlook, circumstance, parenting triumph or woe – but until youâve entered in, youâve no clue whatâs really going on inside.
Never assume. Itâs a waste of time. And donât barge in. Itâs too risky.
Wait to be invited.
This can be so tricky. Especially if the door of their life appears wide open. Â Dusty goldfish are pouring out, the leaking juice box under the backpack has puddled next to a runaway credit card. You just want to offering a suggestion…right?! Stop. There could be some snarling teeth in there. Someoneâs going to get hurt.
I canât tell you how many friendships in my life have been strained because weâve felt judged by one another. Â It makes all of us shut down and pull away. Ask yourself two questions:
Have I established mutual trust with this person?
If you havenât known this person long, and you get all up in their business, it can feel like judgement. It may not be your heart! But remember, they donât trust you yet. Itâs not fair to expect them to know your intentions. Be wise and hold your tongue. But love them like crazy. Be a constant in their life.
Has this person indicated they want your opinion?
I have friends who I know donât want my opinion- even though they love and trust me. Bummer is, Iâm still prone to give it. Weâve got to know our audience yâall. Â Itâs hard for this Italian/Irish girl to shut it down! Iâm learning at the speed of molasses â I need to discipline myself in this area.
Does your friend let her kids watch rated R movies at the age of nineâŚguess what?!
Thatâs not your mini-van!
Or maybe a friend doesnât believe in vaccinations, or home-school, or private school, or public school, or any school!!
Yeah. Thatâs not your mini-van either. Get out girl!
Itâs hard to be a mom these days. Everyone and every book out there hisses, âYouâre doing it wrongâ or, âYou can do it better.â Our generation has trouble trusting God can equip us properly.
We turn to the next, âHow to…â book, before we turn to Godâs book.
We ask Siri before we ask the Spirit.
I believe the enemy’s in this; undermining our God-given instincts to parent our children well. He uses social media, articles and most aggressively- he baits us to tear each other down. We don’t need to be another blasting horn of judgement towards our sisters! Godâs heart is for us to, âEncourage one another and build each other up.â(1 Thessalonians 5:11)
Donât know how to do this? I think it starts with less worrying about getting into someone elseâs life, and inviting them authentically into your own. Living out grace is a powerful witness and gift; loving people regardless of their parenting choices. If a friend does ask your opinion, it’s a safe place to practice honesty. Any fiery pups in her mini-van should know you well enough not to snap.
âLetâs baby wrestle! Iâll get on my knees and put one hand behind my back. You can fight normalâŚbut don’t tell Mom.â
My poor big brother; he desperately wished I was a boy. So I agreed, on several occasions, to âbaby wrestle.â
Why did I entertain this sibling wackiness?! Iâm sure a therapist would say it’s some quirky way of bonding. Whatever. Reality was, I knew- even though he was stronger than me, he wouldnât hurt me. He couldn’t, or I would tell Mom. It was my chance to “bring it” full force.
God welcomes our desire to wrestle, too. He wants us to run full force into his arms when we’re frustrated. Of course He’s stronger, but He won’t crush us. We can’t hesitate to step onto the mat; where unmet expectations lay sprawled out on the sweaty, sticky floor, and “bring it”.
Listen loves, thereâs no form of battle more intimate then wrestlingâŚ
Itâs grabbing hold; skin to skin, breath to breath, strength against strength.
Reaching out and seizing God – is seizing all that is good. But weâll never know if we donât engage in the communion.
Do you want to know God? You must be willing to honestly approach Him. Get in His face. Itâs beautiful, steadfast & glorious.
Do you want to know who you are? Accept wrestling with God is part of your refining. Jacob wrestled with God, and afterwards, God gave him a new name. (Genesis 32:22-32 & Hosea 12:4) It was in the wrestling God clarified Jacob’s identity. We could be missing a defining moment if we abandon the arena of connection with our Father in Heaven.
Three reasons we walk away:
Weâre full of pride. Deep down we think, whatever Godâs purposes are, itâs not valid enough for us. Therefore, weâve no desire to hear what he has to say. Weâre over it. Weâre over him. We love ourselves and our plan for life more than we love God. We truly think: heâs not worth the sweat; the conversation isnât worth our time. Simple as that.
Weâre full of misconceptions about Godâs character. God’s always good. But if one smidgen of our heart suspects heâs a bit evilâŚweâre not going to challenge him. We know heâs stronger and suspect heâll pin us down and punch us in the face. Maybe, weâve misunderstood what it means to âfear Godâ? Maybe, weâve confused loving discipline with punishment? But, somewhere along our journey, weâve believed the lie, âGod isnât always good.â
We think itâs a sin to bring our questions to God. Nowhere, I can find, is it a sin to communicate freely with God. However, itâs a matter of the heart. God sent his son, tearing down the veil separating us from direct communication with Him. He wants authentic relationship. He formed us in His imageâŚthe image that presses in and fights for intimacy. The image so consumed with the desire to be known, heâs moved space, time and history in order to touch us. Believe me: He wants to talk to you.
The majority of âfaith heroesâ in the Bible, in some manner, pushed back at God when they didnât understand his plan. Two elements of their wrestling are routinely evident:
They were humble enough to be honest. If youâre reading this thinking, I never question God in my heart, I always accept His plan without a struggle, I suspect youâre lying to God and yourself. If that was true, youâd have perfect faith. Youâre not Jesus, sister. And even in His perfect faith, he asked God if heâd be willing to change His planâŚthree times! (Matthew 26:36-44)
They trusted Godâs goodness. They knew Godâs love was permanent. Even in their unbelief, anger and sorrow-God’s plan wasn’t to walk away. Instead of pinning them down in His strength, God firmly cradled them until they understood he was not only God, but also loving Father.
If you receive anything from this read, hear this: Itâs better to run to God with your frustrations, then to run from Him in frustration. Take the first step onto the mat.
Iâve put together a list of helpful Bible verses to showcase youâre not alone in your wrestling with Godâs ways. FREE DOWNLOAD:God’s Word — Marked by Love
Dear ones,
Iâm writing you these truths because Iâve found myself huddled, in several seasons, in one of the âThree Reasons We Walk Awayâ camps listed. Itâs too much to break down in a simple blog post. I have a heavy burden on my heart for you if youâre in one of these spaces right now. Please message me.
We call it, âThe Dark Hole of our Marriage.â I was thirty and had birthed three kids in 2 ½ years. Everyone around me was a total jerk. Everyone. Other mammas, my mirror, the mailman, and especially that speed-walker dude on Kellogg. Trust me – but donât trust me. I hadnât slept and each day was a blur of diapers, feedings and potty accidents. It wasnât until I was thirty-three that I began to feel a bit human again. Kids were sleeping more; playing in the toilet less. I finally understood; maybe everyone around me wasnât really a jerk. Maybe the honking lady in the Sprouts parking lot truly cared my baby was rolling away with my shopping cart. Maybe.
Perhaps, they were just offering an oxygen mask to a suffocating girl.
Life’s truly a canvas of mountains and valleys. One of the greatest dangers for extreme mountain climbers is lack of oxygen to the brain. When this happens, they get disoriented and canât think clearly (Hello, motherhood!). They become incapable of ascending or descending the mountain alone. A fellow climber must place their own oxygen mask over the climberâs mouth and physically help them down.
This is how God designed fellowship to work. Because we all have âmountainsâ to climb, dear ones!
On some mountains, youâll be stronger than me. Your faith wonât falter. Youâll have a week when all the kiddos are healthy, and youâve had bunches of quiet time with Jesus. Your oxygen tank will be 100% full with a backup in the mini-van.
On other climbs, I might be honking at your kiddo in a runaway shopping cart.
But what is our spiritual oxygen tank filled with? Encouragement? Wise words? Dinner on the doorstep?
All of these are precious and certainly loving. But weâre talking about our sisters SUFFOCATING!!! I donât care how epic your baked pasta dish is, itâs not going to cut it.
Two things are made from the breath of God in the Bible: Mankind (Genesis 2:7), and Godâs word (1 Timothy 3:16).
This is no coincidence. When our spirits are gasping for air, we need the breath of Godâs word poured into us. But what happens when weâre too worn out to lift relief to our lips? Youâre not the only gal who struggles to find time to read Godâs word. But you donât need to collapse on the trail and declare it hopeless.
Look around for other climbers – other believers. Use what’s left in your lungs to cry out, âSomeone, please speak the word of God over my life right now!â
This is not shameful. This is brave.
Your life, your children, your marriage, your sanity, in some way, depend on your ability to recognize, youâre too exhausted to ascend higher by yourself. Some days, weâll need a sister to hoist us up, press the word of God upon our lips and carry us straight to Jesus.
And if this isnât you right now, get ready for a search and rescue season! I guarantee thereâs someone with an empty oxygen tank on your trail. Scoop them up, speak Godâs truth into their life and take them to the King.
Sometimes Mammaâs need help. But all the time, they need grace.
Once upon a time, at Trader Joes, I allowed my three angels to push their own mini-carts. SoâŚthey decided to play bumper carts down the aisle of wine bottles. Smack in the middle of the horrific scene, another mom sauntered by, her two children peacefully pushing one cart and said,
âYou know, itâs really not the best idea to let each of your children have a cart.â
I donât remember what I said. But I did not say,
âWow, thatâs such wonderful advice. Youâve helped me feel like a non-idiot. You clearly care about me and the six shattered Merlots Iâm about to pay for.â
Yeah. I did not say that.
Moments later, a heroic Trader Joeâs worker, rushed to my side as I confiscated the horrid mini-carts. I was attempting to balance all three on top of my big one. She gently offered the kiddos a sucker while I completed my mission.
I look back on this day and ask myself-Â Which character in this embarrassing story do I want to be? Our words and actions, even well intended, are pathways.
Here are key questions Iâm learning to consider:
Is what I say or do, leading someone down a hallway to Godâs love? Or, is it a route to my own self-validation?
Will this help them feel better, or me feel better?
Which corridor am I nudging people towards when I come to their aid?
I donât think the mamma at Trader Joeâs had a heart to help me. Â She wanted to make it clear, she knew more about this parenting thing than me. Iâm super guilty of behaving this way, too. We all struggle with insecurities when we seek validation outside of God’s love.
Once I shamed a mamma for packing her daughter marshmallows as a âhealthy snack.â Not my finest moment. But advising her how not to feed her children, validated the way I chose to feed mine. It was vain. Godâs word makes it clear, âDo nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.â (Philippians 2:3)
Holding my tongue is just as hard as the Bible says. Godâs shown me, sometimes I donât really want to help, I want to be heard. If being heard by others becomes more important than loving them, weâve missed the mark big time. This is true in our friendships, marriages and everyday encounters.
Jesus didnât say, the greatest commandment is, âLove the Lord your God with your heartâŚAnd the second is to give judgmental advice to all the tired moms on your street.â
Nope. He said, ââLove the Lord your GodâŚÂ  And the second is like it: âLove your neighbor as yourself.â(Matthew 22:37-39)
How did you feel loved when you were in this bleary-eyed stage? Consider those thingsâŚand then do them for others. Next time you see a crazy mamma balancing mini-carts in Trader Joeâs, help her get the third one up with a smile.  She doesnât need your advice, she needs your grace.
He didnât ask me to tuck him in last night.
