A decade has flown by. The years spent teaching ABCs and 123s and imagining with dolls and dinosaurs and Dr. Seuss are now but a sweet memory for me. As I look back, I realize that during those years I thought a lot about my daily exhaustion level and lack of sleep, or about how to make it through the grocery store without overturning an end-cap (with my kids piled in the cart between the milk and eggs).
I see now that I didn’t appreciate enough a valuable gift offered then: the gift of time spent with other women. Lots of days, we’d sit on the floor changing diapers and talking about the Lord, or pushing children higher and higher on playground swings and sharing what God was teaching us over the sound of happy giggles. We’d share not only potty-training tips, but words of scriptural encouragement.
We knew we desperately needed His wisdom for every moment, for every decision — from sorting out sibling squabbles to speaking and modeling Jesus in ways little hearts could understand.
Those years were followed, in our family, by month upon month of a new exhaustion. Back and forth and back and forth to another city’s children’s hospital for our son’s cancer treatments — emotional and mental exhaustion and lack of sleep that made our preschool years seem like fairy land. For those years, my Father’s plan was that talk of His goodness and steadfast love would happen mostly next to a hospital bed.
But now I find, for some kind and gracious reason only God knows, that He’s entered me into a new season — a slowing of the trips to the hospital, replaced by a crazy, hectic (and I say that with grateful joy) time of “normal” teenage years with my kids. Days are filled with school and church activities and homework-help and working outside the home for me; but surprisingly, some days hold what seems to be an unused 20 minutes. I look around and wonder: what do I do with twenty minutes?
Strengthened and impassioned
I’m filled with a desire to share what God has taught me. I want women to be sure of His all-powerful plan and love for them, fortified for their own day of calamity. I’m a beggar who’s been given Bread, and I want to share the bits of life-changing truth given me with the lovely faces I see each day. But, twenty minutes doesn’t allow time to lead a weekly Bible study. Twenty minutes isn’t even long enough to meet for conversation over coffee. Twenty minutes doesn’t fit very well into anyone’s schedule.
Thus this blog. I’d like to pass on truth God has used to strengthen me these past few years (from others wiser than me) and daily thoughts I now have about His loving command over all our circumstances — all with the hope that you’d be encouraged in your own walk with the Lord, readied for painful and confusing days, and all the others as well.
In my own self I don’t have much of interest to pass on, so I’ll stick with the only really important truth you can ever know — that Jesus is more beautiful than any of the props we use to get through our day. That His love is love unimagined, for He is the Bread your hungry soul craves, and the Feast you yearn for in your dry and weary land. He is your only hope in life and death. Any other place or person or thing you turn to will fail you, but He never will. I pray that any words you read here would be used of my Father, by His Spirit, to strengthen and impassion your love for Jesus.
I want to wake daily and turn my eyes upon Him, and I’d love for you to join me — as if over coffee.