Madabella

Anchored

Life is full of storms.

Sometimes days are covered in a light drizzle of trials; days that seem just a little off kilter but somehow manageable. Unfinished laundry. Again. Sibling scuffles. Schedules that run behind. Tears over tough to solve math problems. Overcooked chicken and under cooked potatoes.

Several deep cleansing breaths and a prayer later, the small world that encompasses my tribe of five slows it's spin and we just move forward in the grace that abounds for even the least of these life complications.

Then there are rare days drenched in blizzards of heartbreaking news leaving my soul shipwrecked on a deserted island. Loss of life forming in the womb. Anger over broken relationships. Life changing diagnosis. Misunderstandings and miscommunications with ones I love.

All the while waves crash and rock the boat that's already been battered and bruised. Like hail cutting against glass window panes, these moments of tribulation pound hard against our hearts and leave us raw and in desperate need of grace to simply breathe.

Whether it's a light rain casting hardship on your days or torrential storms that send a tsunami of hurt into your moments, there is always Hope. It's the Anchor that tethers us to the very One who beckons the dark clouds and sends the wind and rain. 

Hope lifts our head and grabs our hands so we can steady ourselves to put one foot in front of the other. It renews a sense of peace even when the storm hasn't passed. It comforts us with the promise that yes, new mercies are on the horizon if we look to the east to see the sunrise again. Hope indeed anchors the soul. May we set our sails toward the only One who can calm angry seas and anchor us in the deepest waters.

 

I Am (Not) A Quitter

 

With a brand new, shiny Prince tennis racket, a smooth, black tennis bag with pockets, sleek compartments, and a cute pair of Nike tennis shoes, I was prepared to conquer the world, one serve at a time.

The sophisticated gear ensured the tennis ball spinning 30 miles an hour hit the sweet spot every single time, of course.

Walking, prancing, into the music store I identified the most beautiful, cobalt blue, Spanish guitar. I’ll take that one on the wall, please! A few weeks later, I got another guitar. And another one.

The sophisticated gear ensured my fingers would dance along steel strings, creating a beautiful acoustic sound of melody every single time, of course.

The day after thanksgiving I very politely enlisted my husband to run-not-walk to the department store with a thousand other eager shoppers to purchase a state-of-the-art, all in one, never have to iron your clothes again, supernaturally powered washer and dryer.

The sophisticated gear ensured my dirty laundry would be made white as snow, folded, and put away every single time, of course.

Nine out of ten tennis balls, though hit with tenacity of John McEnroe and charged grunt of Monica Seles, never make it to the other side of the court.

My guitars stage as home décor accessories rather than instruments made to worship.

Clothes washed and dried rarely make it to my closet with elegance, but rather in clumps and piles spilling onto dresser tops and chairs. Actually, rarely do they make it past the laundry room.

Somewhere along the line, I had a faulty believe that the gear would make the player. The outward tools of the trade would produce extraordinary, life altering results. The exterior would magically transform the interior.

Yet God tells us our character and strength are built from the inside out.

If I want to learn to play the guitar, I need to learn the language of reading music, painfully develop calloused fingertips and practice tedious scales and chords that resemble nothing of a song. And that is only the beginning.

Somewhere along the line, I had a faulty believe I could simply quit if the goal was too hard to accomplish.

I am no longer a tennis player. I quit playing guitar. And well, I’m getting better at the laundry.

The one thing I cannot quit is being a child of God.

Contrary to what others may believe, I cannot rebuke the Holy Spirit out of me.

I cannot rescind the adoption papers signed by my Heavenly Father.

When the going gets tough, I can’t resign from this life God has appointed before the foundation of the world.

I am powerless to do any of those things.

Like Jacob, I can wrestle it out with God for hours upon hours, days upon days, but eventually I will grow weary of wrestling and the only thing to do is fall back into the arms of the very One I am exchanging blows with.

Yes, He works from the inside out, using trials, struggles, mistakes, tribulations, failures and everything messy in this world to mold me, shape me, grow me, move me and use me. Everything messy to draw me closer to Him.

I am a quitter. But this life, I will run with endurance, even if that run is a very slow waltz past the starting line.

One serve at a time. One strum at a time. One load at a time.

I am moving one step at a time and I will not quit, because He will not let me.

And He will not let you.

In Need of Endurance

22 miles?!

My suggestion of a bike ride somehow turned into a hard core trip to the beach. Pedaling 11 miles straight was not my idea of a leisurely afternoon, but my adventurous husband assured me the trail was flat and my limited riding skills would lead to the beautiful ocean views just fine.




Not just fine. This was a far cry from the occasional rides at the park along the lake with my daughters. I quickly determined this two-hour trip to the beach would be the last ride I’d ever agree to. Ever.

Roughly ten minutes into the bike ride, my legs started burning.

Twenty minutes into the bike ride, I vigorously shook my legs to get the blood circulating again and almost knocked the passing rider off the trail.

Thirty minutes into the bike ride, my pleas to turn around and drive our bikes to the beach fell on deaf ears and a smile stretched across my husband’s face. You can do it. Just eight more miles!

Forty minutes into my bike ride, I veered off the side of the trail, throwing my bike down as I jumped off. I laid my body across the asphalt and started giving myself a leg massage.

This was the worst bike ride ever and I wanted to go home.

I kept thinking, I just need to build my stamina for the 22 miles that lay ahead and then I’ll get through.

However, building up endurance takes time.

The same is true in our Christian walk. Paul likens our journey as Christians to a race. Whether we are strolling, walking, or running – we must keep moving forward in the marathon toward the goal of obtaining the prize.

Spiritual endurance to withstand heavy trials only comes when we have gone through various trials along the way.

God knows our temptation to quit, even as we are riding along flat trails, barely into the race.

We are reminded God sees the journey set before us. “For you have need of endurance…” Hebrews 10:36a

El Roi, God who sees, knows and understands our need to persevere and continue in the race. Along the trail, my husband kept reminding me we would arrive at the beautiful ocean soon. He reminded me, “Just a little longer. Just a few more miles. You can do it.”

God does the same when He reminds us to endure doing His will, “…so that when you have done the will of God, you may receive what was promised.” Hebrews 10:36b

I eventually made it to the beach, walking along the boardwalk and smelling the salty ocean air. I desperately tried to find a bus to take us back home, but again my husband reminded me, we can do it together.

God does not desire us to shrink back from the hard trials in our life no matter how hard the burning inside feels or how often we veer off the trail ready to quit. Our faith to persevere is the very thing that preserves and keeps us abiding in Him.

“But we are not of those who shrink back to destruction, but of those who have faith to the preserving of the soul.” Hebrews 10:39

No matter how often we are tempted to shy away from difficulties, trust God knows we need stamina to press on and listen to him cheering you on from the sidelines:

Therefore, do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward…For yet in a very little while, He who is coming will come, and will not delay. But my righteous one shall live by faith…” Hebrews 10:35, 37-39

Faith is the very strength you need to ride with endurance. Keep pedaling!

Image Credit

The Things No One Sees

A sense of fulfillment comes when we are rewarded for a job well done. Working in my career, accolades came as year end bonuses, recognition from people I admired or even promotions. The fruits of my labor yielded tangible results that fueled my sense of purpose. Then, I became a stay at home mom.

After months of tending to my daughters needs and trying to maintain order in our home, I collapsed on my bed one night with the unsettling feeling I had nothing to show for my labor. I earnestly began to look for gold stickers and a star chart.

In this moment of feeling unworthy, I realized how much value was tied to the recognition of others. In addition to my own pride, somewhere along the road of life I bought into the lie that motherhood wasn’t a worthy calling.

More than creating a homemaker or growing me as a mother, God wanted to rebuild His dwelling place. He wanted to renovate my heart.

Click here to read the rest of the story as I share what I learned about doing the things no one sees.


On the 1st Wednesday of each month, I contribute perspectives on motherhood at MODSquad, an online community devoted to strengthening the hearts of our daughters for God.

 

The Lord is Present

I wake early.

“The early bird catches the worm.”

That quote lingers, hangs overhead, wooing me to motivation and I wonder at how birds need those worms to be full. To feast on the fruit of labor found early in the morning. Is this my reward? To rise early to get it all done. To quicken my pace to accomplish all that lay before me?

I don’t want to rise early to strive.

Jesus said, “Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?” (Matthew 6:26)

The birds are fed by the very hand of God. They catch because He provides.

I am not a morning person, but I want to rise early to meet Him. And some days I do.

One particular morning, my eyes opened in the chill of the sun beginning to dawn. I looked around as friends slept soundly on wooden bunk beds in our white washed room. Tiptoeing past, I open the large wooden door with metal hinges to a wide, open, misty sky. I made my way past the barn, past sheep huddled together in slumber and past the garden at the edge of the house. There on a bench, under a willow tree, I sat in awe at the green rolling hills that seemed to have no end.

There, miles and miles past busy London, I sat and worshipped the Lord in the quiet of morning. No worms to catch, no checkboxes to mark off my task list.

On that quiet hill it was only me and Him as I worshipped loud for all the angels to hear.

I remember a trust. Trusting Him to guide my day as I witnessed to people I didn’t know. Trusting Him to guide words spoken to friends. Trusting Him to lead toward the exact place He desired.

If a bird feeds on a worm early in the morning, perhaps I must begin there.

Feasting.

“Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man does not live on bread along, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4:4)

His table is always prepared with the finest. All I have to do is come with a longing heart ready to trust Him and receive.

I remember that morning of long ago and how sweet it was to be present with the maker of Time, as He unveiled a trust anchoring my soul to His once again. The same trust I needed on the mission field many yesterdays ago is what I need this day and everyday thereafter. 

Whenever I rise, may it not be to accomplish more, but to be more present with the One called, “Jehovah Shama - The Lord is Present.”

A Father's Heart: Guest Post

In honor of Father's Day, I have been sharing the series on a father's love. Today, I have the pleasure of opening my writing home to my husband, Noel.

One of the greatest ways Noel demonstrates love is in fatherhood. As a father, He is tender and gentle. He listens and responds with warmth and intention. He exemplifies Christ, even in his shortcomings, because his desire is to serve. It’s not unusual for my husband to contemplate and ponder deep before expressing himself. But when he does speak his mind, a strength takes over that I’ve seen in very few people.  

In recent moments reminiscing about our girls, Noel shared about the quality of time spent with them. “It’s not just about playing softball together or going to the park to play. I enjoy being with them for who they are…” As he shared his observations about his daughters, I sensed his great love. And I’m so pleased, he agreed to write his thoughts in honor of Father’s Day. I hope you enjoy hearing from him as much as I do.

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Anyone can be a parent, but fathering is love. Without love there is nothing.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (I Corinthians 13:13)

I have been blessed to be accepted, validated and loved by my father. This is what we men seek to know from our fathers – ultimately that we have done a good job. God blessed me and my wife with two beautiful amazing girls, full of colorful character and wonder. I repeatedly ask myself: How do I make sure they feel loved and validated as girls, now and into the future as they walk into womanhood? I have so many questions, I know it’s only through the adventure of trials, experiences and battles will they fully be realized and answered.

When first coming into the stages of fatherhood I recall thinking, "I want to be a father like my dad, caring and loving, someone that can see beyond the now and point me in the right direction of knowing God.” Becoming good friends with both my father in laws, they took me in as a son and fathered me in ways that taught me how to reach for goals I didn’t think were attainable, to be involved, to never give up, and to be forgiving in the hardest of circumstances. From the wisdom and kindness of these three men, I have been given examples of what I aspire to be in a father.



In the short eight and a half years being a father, I have grown through some of life’s toughest and most beautiful experiences with my girls. There have been nights when a crying shoulder or bedtime story built a connection to my girls that will last through this life. A hug or kiss meant more to me than any worldly aspiration. These gifts that were given to me by my girls will forever live in my heart.

Life moving forward with two little girls can be scary, but will be an adventure I look forward too. I'm eager to see how they grow to become women of God and how they show courage and love in life’s challenges. One thing is certain, I know they will continue to teach me about myself and show me how to become a better father and man.

A Father's Heart: Intimacy and Affection

Approaching Father's Day, I am writing about a Father's love. Today, a revised post from the archives remembering my father and at the end of the week, I will have my favorite guest ever!



Me and Dad, circa 1979

For years I knew my dad's nickname, "Abba" had a meaning that gave us greater insight into who God really is. I'm not sure why I waited so long to tell him. Perhaps God had to ordain the perfect time, place and moment for me to share.

That day came this May 26th. His birthday. 

The character of God is most revealed through His names and titles, some of which are

El Shaddai {God Almighty}

Adonai Yahweh {Sovereign Lord}

Jevohah Jireh {God our Provider}

However, when Jesus came to tear the veil that separated us from God, we could now know God in a new way.

Avi {Father}

We are told "even before he made the world, God loves us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in his eyes. God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us into Himself through Jesus Christ. This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure." Ephesians 1:4-5

Stop and consider that God decided to make US his children. The God who spoke life into existence. The God who set the stars in the heaven. The King of kings and Lord of lords delights in being our Father.

To call God Father means we can have a relationship with Him.

To call God Father means he is deeply personal in our lives, not just some "guy upstairs" or Supreme Being.

We can relate to Him on an intimate basis each and every day.

To call God Father means we can know Him.

As Father, He lavishes us with love, protects us , comforts us, guides us, encourages us, disciplines us and corrects us. No matter what our earthly father is like, our Heavenly Father is the perfect Father...the one who is ALWAYS there for us.

I told my dad that his nickname Abba refers to God as Daddy or Papa.

It is a deeply personal and intimate name, an affectionate name, that gives us an even closer relationship to God. How special it is to know the God Almighty is our Abba.

"We cry, Abba Father and the Spirit of God bears witness that we are indeed children of God through faith in Jesus Christ." Romans 8:15-16

Little did I know the nickname my dad had as a baby when he could barely utter a few sounds was the very name he would need to cry out to when he lay lifeless in a coma and unable to utter a word.

"Dad, you cry out to Abba, Father!"

On June 4th, 2010 I whispered over and over into my dad's ear to cry out for His Father, His Papa, His Daddy to scoop him up into His arms so he would feel no more pain, no more tears.

Today, I don't have my Dad to spend Father's Day with. I have my "Dad Too" who is my stepdad, but even more importantly, I have a Heavenly Father who desires to spend every moment with me. And for that, I am grateful. Eternally grateful.

May today (and every day) be the day YOU spend with your Abba, Father.

The One Who Really Needs to Understand Me

The dinner table is our sanctuary. We peel away layers of the day and gather close to pray, talk about our day and simply be. Our words are usually uplifting and encouraging, but the other night, words were misunderstood.

Just about every day, Madelyn eagerly tells me about a neighbor or friend at school that needs Jesus! At the bookstore, she’ll bring me a Bible and say, “She needs this, Mommy!” or I’ll hear prayers of friends names roll off her tongue. When my father was in the hospital, Madelyn wrote a card that said, “I pray you know God.”

Madelyn’s heart is set to the tune of evangelism and I pray she always has the willingness to share the love of Christ.

Head bowed, I offered up a prayer for my youngest daughter. “Lord, please continue to give Madelyn a burden in her heart for her friends to know you.”

Before I could say “Amen,” Madelyn bolted upstairs mumbling on about a birdie.

Excitedly she rejoined us at the table with a toy bird in her hand. “Birdie! Birdie! You don’t have to pray that I have a birdie in my heart, mama! I have one right here, see?!”

We all looked at each other clueless at first and then laughed as we realized Madelyn heard my prayer as “birdie” rather than “burden.”

At times it’s not simply words that are misunderstood, but also motives or actions. It’s inevitable that we will encounter moments of defeat or loneliness, seemingly climbing an uphill battle to be understood. Or trying to understand those around us.

A well of hurt can rise within when we have been falsely judged or when others look beyond the heart of who we are and make assumptions or misguided criticism. Eventually if you dwell on your circumstance long enough, it becomes larger than it really is and the pit we have dug ourselves only becomes deeper. Last year, I was in this circumstance and it was so hard to set my mind on what I knew to be true.

And there have been times I misunderstood or wrongly criticized others. We’ve all been guilty of having preconceived notions and making assumptions.

There lies a deep desire in all of us to be known and valued. And the truth is, we are.

Only Jesus Christ knows our true hearts. He formed our most inward parts and He sees the deepest places that dwell under the surface. It is only when I truly love people, that I can look past the surface. Rather than try to understand others, I can know they are loved by God.

Walk in confidence, knowing you are fully understood by God, even when misunderstandings isolate you. He makes our motives right, He allows us to love others unconditionally and He imparts grace to extend to others.

Madelyn may have thought I wanted “birdies” flying around in her heart, but even amidst misunderstandings, my Heavenly Father knew exactly what I wanted. A burden for the others. In her heart and mine. 

Sacred Summer + Printable Summer Mini Album

When my daughters were much younger, I raced against the clock to meet their needs. Whether to bathe them, read stories at bedtime or play board games, I always had something more important to accomplish, a more urgent request to fulfill. Time with my daughters became one big rush hour.

However, summer taught me the sacred of motherhood where time ceases to exist.

Several years ago, I slowed my life to catch up to theirs. I learned to capture my girls as they truly were rather than who I wanted them to be or what I wanted them to do. No longer going head to head with Father Time, I simply began to see. To look around and fellowship with my precious little ones.




I saw laughter and delight.
I saw beauty and love.
I saw needs and fears.
I saw innocence and vulnerability. 

That summer, I saw them with a renewed passion and wanted to soak up every minute rather than wish them away for the sake of reaching my own goals.



What a beautiful day it was to be with my daughters without looking behind me to see what I missed or looking ahead, overwhelmed of all that is left to do. I no longer walked ahead of them, calling for them to catch up, behave this way, do this right, don't do that. More often, I sat in their shadows, followed their footsteps and let them lead me to a magical place of joy that only a child truly knows. 

This summer, I want to remember the sacred. The sacred of being present. Most of those moments will be snapshots sketched in my mind, but sometimes I'm quick enough to bring my camera along to simply capture life.

To honor the stillness of time ushered in by summer, I created a 10-page Mini Album to catalogue the gift of our days. The album contains a cover page and 10 distinct, whimsical pages for you to add photos and remember the sacred. 




To download the 10-Page Summer Mini Album along a "Days of Summer List" to write down your dreams for the summer, click here at MODSquad, Mothers of Daughters, where I write about my perspective on motherhood each month.

Enjoy creating and capturing life's sacred moments! 

Wait and Be Faithful

“I waited patiently for the Lord; And He inclined to me, and he heard my cry.” Psalm 40:1

Every day it seems I am waiting for something. For someone.

I wait for calls to be returned, for emails to appear in my inbox and for my favorite late night television show to come on.

I wait for the school bell to ring and for my children to hop in my truck.

I wait for my husband to greet us when he returns from work and for the kitchen timer to tell us dinner is ready.

 

In the midst of a world frantically spinning with millions having places to go and people to see, we are all waiting for something. And in the quiet moments, I am waiting for deeper promises to be fulfilled and hard situation to be resolved.

I wait for God to reconcile loved ones to Himself so true restoration can take place.

I wait for God to lead me to a place in this world where my husband and I can serve side by side.

I wait for God to cultivate the gifts He’s given me and use them for His glory, in His time.

I wait for God to bring peace and comfort in a time of grief and remembrance.

I recently felt the Lord telling me to wait on Him. To my chagrin, I went into toddler mode, frantically waving my feet in the air and waving fists toward the skies, crying out for mercy. Really?

I want it all now, God. I’ve waited long enough.

Yet, God has extravagant promises to those who wait on Him. So why should I worry?

In the waiting room we are strengthen for what lies ahead. There is the assurance of being specifically prepared for a unique situation God has in store. You may feel ill-equipped for the turn of the season, but rest assured, God is firmly establishing your steps as you patiently wait on Him with excited expectancy. His plans for our life always prevail. Let us believe this.

Soon He will put a new song in our hearts and the melody will burst forth of all things we have been waiting for. Certainly, the lyrics and tune might be different, but God’s promises are far beyond our finite understanding. We will sing of deliverance and many see us praise God for setting our feet upon a rock and they will put their trust in the Lord.

Waiting is not always for our purposes, sometimes it is designed to be a witness to those who are watching, so God may be glorified.  Our job now is to be faithful to what He has called us to.

When my toddler heart tames, I grab a pen and begin to write a prayer, listing all the things I am waiting for. In a whisper, I surrender it all to Him. Like a flower waiting to bud, Lord, make it all beautiful.

Are you waiting on God for something? Continue to trust, knowing He is building you up for a season yet to come and a purpose yet to be revealed. Wait and be faithful.