on mission.

While we were waiting for Sylvie to come home, I was clinging to God each day, in each moment. It was my only choice. Life moved on all around me while I begged for Jesus to be near. Oh, how He was. How He showed me such mercy and grace and abundant love during that painful time. As hard as the waiting was, I felt closer to God than ever before in my life. I heard from Him, I felt His nearness, I earnestly devoured His Word.

Today, in this season, I often look up and realize that days have gone by without the pages of my Bible being turned. Life moves on all around me and I just move along with it. 

I know this is perfectly normal. Life isn’t meant to be lived solely on the mountaintop or in the valley.

But, here’s the thing: this may be normal but it’s not okay. I don’t want to be disconnected or stagnant. I want to seek Him with my whole heart and mind and soul. I’ve tasted the goodness of His love and I don’t want to go back to living life in auto-pilot.

For several weeks now, I’ve been seeking clarity on an upcoming trip, asking for direction and discernment. Quick backstory: Dave and I had both planned to visit Haiti this summer with one of my absolute favorite organizations, Help One Now, alongside some of my absolute favorite people. It felt like exactly what God was calling us to. The chance to get back to serving and loving on the “least of these.”

Yet, the stress and anxiety of leaving our kiddos was keeping me up at night. I knew the boys would be fine without us. Yes, they would miss us but they have a blast with Nana and Papa. I was very concerned about Charlotte. She is in a “mommy” phase right now. As in, if mommy isn’t around, I’ll just scream until I vomit. You can understand my concern. Also, Sylvie. Dave and I recently went away for a few days for our anniversary and the aftermath of the trip was brutal. Sylvie had a very hard time with us being gone – much more so than we anticipated.

The plan was for us to all fly to Florida together, stay for a couple days to get settled and then Dave and I would fly to Haiti from there while the kiddos stayed behind with my parents. If you’re doing the math, you’ve concluded that this would be Sylvie’s second ever plane ride – the first of which was that time she left everything and everyone she has ever known to fly here. And, similar to that first flight, the people who loved her would leave her in a new place. Yeah, soooo, I’m not an attachment expert but I feel like that is a recipe for disaster.

This morning, after praying about this for weeks and receiving the same message from multiple places {God knows I am a little slow and need to hear from Him several times to get the point}, I’ve decided to stay behind.

I feel peaceful in this decision yet I’m also sad to miss out on the experience. Now that I’ve made the decision, I can see that the answer was clear. Yet, I wanted to go and do big things for Him. For the Kingdom. I wanted to serve. I wanted to be reminded why we work so hard on Feeding Tummies.  I wanted to get out of my comfort zone.

I wanted. I wanted. I wanted. 

This servant-heart thing is not about what I want. It’s about what He wants. He has placed these little hearts in my life. Little hearts that need to be shepherded. Little hearts that need to feel safe and loved and secure. Little hearts that need to be taught who He is. Little hearts that need to learn how to drown out the loud clanging and flashy desires of this world and learn to seek the still, small whispers of His Truth.

The other day, I happened upon these words by Jennifer Ebenhack and what a confirmation they were for my soul:


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“I have been created, gifted, and trained specifically for these children, today. I am their mother, for “such a time as this” (Esther 4:14).

It’s not always easy to follow Him. It’s not always an adventure – sometimes, it’s a sacrificial way of living that allows Him to work in and through you in the midst of very ordinary circumstances. Sometimes, it’s seeking Him while surrounded by piles of laundry and dishes and homework papers. Sometimes it means putting aside the desire to go and serving and loving right where you are. The greatest mission field can look a lot like our very own homes.

Today, I’m choosing to place on the full armor of God and become the warrior mom I am called to be. On mission. In my home. For their hearts.