A few things…
1. I promise to come back in a few weeks when Chase is over.
2. Sad that I lost many of your comments from the last few months, Just returning to WordPress- I am so happy to be back on WP and sad to lose the last few months of interaction.
3. Some interviews for Stuck just ran in Canada… here is one. I am such a dork but hopefully the message will bless somebody out there.
It is not better preaching, and finer writing that is needed in this day—but more of the presence of the Holy Spirit. J.C. Ryle
Forgive my absence here. When I have time away from kids to write, my full attention has gone to studying and preparing my second study, Chase- A look into David’s life, an attempt to discover why such a mess of a man possessed the favor of God. (No not the official subtitle- but you get it!)
Somebody told Cooper Santa only brought gifts to good boys, so of course he asked,
“Mom, am I a good boy?”
Ummmm…. as I am writing this I hear pounding and unusally loud singing from his bedroom a good bit after we have tucked him in…..honestly. But what 4 year old boy is good? Strike that. What human is good?
I want to teach him that Christmas isn’t for those of us that measure up. Christmas is for all of us that couldn’t.
I crave it. I want to feel it so badly that I attach myself to any sparkling little speck of it.
Lately it has felt like adequacy is a requirement for my life. I signed a contract. With this contract came a book and teaching and bible studies, all of which would require an adequate person, an adequate writer, an adequate teacher; someone worthy of such things….someone worth listening to, worth reading.
And I keep waking up waiting to feel worthy, adequate for this huge task. Begging God to turn my little black and white words into something, something profound, even quotable.
Where are the next generation of women leaders?
We are passionately dreaming behind closed doors. But we are all terrified to stand up and lead. We are afraid of being hated and equally afraid of being liked and followed and we are trying to stay in love with Jesus enough to do it anyway. There are a few jumping up and down trying to get everyone’s attention, but most of us are sitting, dreading raising our hand because we’re scared what it means.
Where is the next Beth Moore or Kay Arthur?
Stuck is out and we are already hearing stories of God using it in beautiful ways from women all over. I am in awe of God and humbled by it. And I know many of you are starting groups this spring. I pray with you that God would show up in ways none of us can orchestrate.
There is a healthy discontentment within women’s ministry and we all are feeling it. I pray this will be a part of what God is doing to meet the needs of a hungry for God generation.
It’s been 6 months since this boy was welcomed into our lives. This week, with all the chaos he has brought into our lives, he still seems to be what we are most thankful for these days!
I am going to do the unthinkable and edit Tozer here. I believe this should read, “Sometimes we are overwhelmed because we forget how BIG God is.”
Inner turmoil is often caused by our view God. Which sounds fancy and helpful, except it’s not, because we can’t just magically fix the places we don’t believe God enough or correctly.
I sat across from a friend this morning over breakfast tacos and pancakes and coffee…
I’ve taken many writing classes from high school to grad school but nothing I am going to say today comes from those experiences. These lessons come from staring at a blank screen again and again and from the inevitable moment of crisis when you realize you may have officially run out of things to say.
1. Bleed.
If my heart is not beating out of my chest about something- my writing stinks. So when I stare at the blank screen every time, the first thing I do is care about something… anything. Usually buried under worries of who forgot their lunch and what’s happening on facebook- something is burning.
There is a war. It’s invisible and I’m dramatic for bringing it up with coffee in my hand at a table tucked in the back of Panera. But I feel it. I feel it even sitting here at my Panera table on a 70 degree day when everything should be blissful or at least perfectly average.
Everything hurts inside and my life is not falling apart. Nobody is sick, our bills are paid, and I am drinking coffee. So it’s slightly mysterious why my soul physically hurts in my chest, apart from this truth:
