Blessings and Raindrops

seeking joy in the midst of the ordinary

Abide.

I’ve recently started reading “The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry” by John Mark Comer and his words resonate so deeply with me.

We all have our own story of trying to stay sane in the day and age of iPhone and Wi-Fi and the twenty-four-hour news cycle and urbanization and ten-lane freeways and soul-crushing traffic and nonstop noise and a frenetic ninety-miles-per-hour life of go, go, go…

John Mark Comer

Yes. Exactly. Go, go, go.

The thing is, while the rest of the world stopped during the pandemic, we kept on working and filming and taking weekly covid tests while teaching virtual school and putting out fire after fire because product was delayed and sub-contractors were quarantined and, and, and… Among the stress and fear and constant changing news on the topic of Covid precautions and treatments, we just had to keep going out the door each day. And, while I know our story doesn’t even come close to comparing to essential workers or teachers, I do know that I am still, like everyone across the globe, processing the past year.

And, now, in our little corner of the world, life has been slowly going back to a new normal all around us. Our kids’ schedules seem busier than ever, our work schedules are the most demanding we can ever remember, berry season is on the horizon with pressing needs that can’t be ignored… and, the thing is, it’s all REALLY good. So many good things are happening. I never want to sound ungrateful or unappreciative but this book is wrecking me. It’s calling to a deep longing in my spirit for stillness and real rest.

Corrie Ten Boom once said that if the devil can’t make you sin, he’ll make you busy. There’s truth in that. Both sin and busyness have the exact same effect – they cut off your connection to God, to other people, and even to your own soul.

John Mark Comer

A sentence like that jumps right off the page and straight to my soul. One more, just for good measure:

To walk with Jesus is to walk with a slow, unhurried pace. Hurry is the death of prayer and only impedes and spoils our work. It never advances it.

Walter Adams, spiritual director to C.S. Lewis

Did I mention I haven’t even finished the first chapter? Yet, I’m being forced to face the reality of this season of my life: I need to slow down. The irony of this is the fact that I’m typing these words in a hurry, as I have a conference call in fifteen minutes and have to be at a job-site in forty-five minutes. I’m still in pj’s and Luke is sitting in my lap eating cereal. I need to get him dressed and get myself ready so we can be out the door in exactly twenty-five minutes in order to be on time to the site visit. No doubt, we will be running late and rushing out the door.

But.

Even in the midst of a never-ending onslaught of demands on my time, I know I can find pockets of stillness. I don’t need to run away to a private island. We don’t need to quit our jobs and pull our kids from sports teams. I simply need to relearn the art of abiding. I need to turn off my phone for the day (and deal with the backlog of messages and emails later) in order to truly engage in the sacredness of a Sabbath. I need to start the day in prayer, asking for wisdom and discernment over the needs of the day ahead. I need to ask God to show me what is a priority and what can fall off the list. I need to empower my handful of trusted friends who have come alongside me to make all.the.things happen. I need to turn over responsibilities and tasks that someone else can handle. I need to wake up early to ensure I have time in the Word at the start of the day (because filling my spiritual bucket each morning is the only way to Abide throughout the day). I need to pause and look my kiddos in the eyes when they are talking. I need to take deep breaths when I’m overwhelmed with all on my plate and list reasons for gratitude aloud. Because, when I’m in a posture of gratitude, my soul simply cannot be clouded by discontentment.

I think this journey of eliminating hurry is a lifelong one. There will be more seasons of overwhelm where I need a reminder like I’m receiving from John Mark Comer’s book. And, there will be seasons where intentionally slow living comes easily and rest is tangible. I know I was directed to this book so that I can stop in the midst of this season of busyness in order to reset and redirect my heart.

I hope this reminder is helpful to someone else, as well. I’ll leave you with these words from John Ortberg:

Take a deep breath. Put your cell phone away. Let your heart slow down. Let God take care of the world.

John Ortberg, forward, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry

Amen.

Snowy days.

My grandparents owned a small cabin nestled in the woods of Beech Mountain, North Carolina when I was a kid and my family spent one week every February there throughout my childhood. My parents would pack every inch of the minivan with once-a-year-used jackets and gloves and my siblings and I would fight over who would get the coveted “pallet on the floor” spot for the overnight drive. That person was lucky enough to sleep through the night in the cozy nook filled with blankets and pillows while the rest of us twisted into uncomfortable positions in seats. (We didn’t have pesky things like car seats and seat belt laws to affect our sleep during the drive). When we woke up the next morning, we may as well driven to another planet. We left behind our sunny life in Central Florida and had entered a winter wonderland. We all shrieked excitedly pointing out the rocks dripping in icicles and snow-laden trees.

My childhood memories of ice and snow are inextricably tied to MAGICAL moments – joy and sledding and hot cocoa and piping hot spaghetti dinners after a full day of skiing. For one week each year, we escaped the humidity and heat and managed to squeeze an entire winter’s worth of rosy cheeks and freezing toes and wet gloves into those seven days.

Because we rarely get snow here in Arkansas, I revert to my childhood self and become giddy whenever snow is in the forecast. This year, we have had more below-freezing days than I can remember and Dave, the kids and I all have been watching the forecast this week with high hopes for the unprecedented snow they’re predicting.

Yet, this longer than normal stretch of freezing weather could be particularly tough on our animals and we’ve had to work long days in the pasture keeping water fresh and ensuring warm spaces are readily available for our four-legged crew.

We managed to get a small horse’s coat on Alfie-the-alpaca the other day and one on Daddy Donk this morning. They, along with Larry-the-llama, have been particularly stubborn about not seeking shelter in the barn. And, we have no idea what we are actually doing so my highly scientific google research told us to get them each a horse blanket. We haven’t been able to “catch” Larry for his wardrobe change but we have laughed a whole lot trying. He seems to be tolerating the weather well and I do think Alfie and Daddy Donk appreciate the extra layer of warmth from their new accessories (even if they do look slightly ridiculous and the other animals can’t figure out what they’re wearing).

On the other hand, Jack and Belle, our Great Pyrenees, are LOVING the weather and are currently living their best lives.

At the start of the week, we had to really scramble because a surprise baby lamb was born! Snowy had a baby in the pasture on Tuesday morning and shocked us all. We had thought she couldn’t have babies so this little guy was the sweetest little surprise! But the temperatures were dropping really fast and we had to quickly get a warm spot set up for her and her new baby boy, (who the kids named Frosty). Mama and baby are both doing well and are just so, so sweet. I shared a story on instagram about Snowy and how she is such a fighter and how special she is to our fam. We’ve had to work more than usual this week to keep her and Frosty warm and ensure they have food, water and are safe but it’s been so worth it – just look at this face!! THE CUTEST!!

We’re expecting a big snowstorm tonight and, now that the animals are warm and safe, we are all super excited for some snow! We’re ready for snowmen, sledding and all of the magical memories tied to snowy days. (Of course, we know warmer days are only a few days away, so that certainly helps us embrace the cold temps for a short stint).

Stay warm, friends!

Quiet.

Once again, I’ve neglected this space for way too long. In all honesty, this year has just been too much for me to even find the brain space to sit and type out a coherent thought. I’m sure so many of you can relate.

Now that we’ve wrapped filming for the year, I’m attempting to come up for air and catch up on all.the.things from the past year. I’m organizing my closet and taking my kids out on solo dates and savoring the weight of a sleeping Luke on my chest during his afternoon nap. I’m giving myself grace and allowing my body and mind to rest and process all this past year has held.

While it’s true I have much to grieve from this year, I also have so much to be grateful for. And, rather than focusing on the hard and the disappointing, I choose to focus on the good. Covid has stolen so much from all of us but it has also gifted us the time to step off the hamster wheel and take a good look around. We’ve been gifted the chance to take an inventory of our priorities. And, I have to say, I’m grateful to be able to re-evaluate my commitments and my relationships.

At the start of the year, the Lord pressed Isaiah 30:15 on my heart. I didn’t know why at the time, yet, over the past year, it’s become evident.

In quietness and confidence is your strength.

One of the not-so-fun side effects of this more public life we’re now leading are the opinions and harsh words from strangers behind a screen. I believe quarantine life has made the trolls harsher and angrier and given them more time to sit behind their computer and share their thoughts. And, they undoubtably forget (or maybe don’t care) that real people sit on the other side of the screen, reading their bitter words.

When I read a hateful comment, particularly targeted at my kids or my family, I immediately want to attack back. I become defensive and angry and want to respond with an equal measure of cruelty. Yet, the Spirit guides me over and over again back to Isaiah 30:15.

In quietness and confidence is your strength.

I found a commentary on this verse that resonates so deeply with my soul:

“Trusting God’s promises means quietness. You don’t need to argue for your side when God is on your side. Be quiet before him and before others, it shows you really trust Him.”

I feel like this concept of “quiet” is something I’m just barely scratching the surface of, like a puzzle. I’m finding pieces that fit and I’m starting to see the image but there is so much still missing.

I do know our world feels louder than ever and my world is the loudest its ever been. The constant streams of communication are overwhelming – multiple email accounts and facebook and instagram and comments and direct messages and twitter (I always forget to check twitter), etc, etc. There are so many unsolicited opinions coming my way and it is, quiet honestly, exhausting. {And, please hear my heart: so, so many of the comments and messages are overwhelmingly kind and encouraging. The harsh ones are so few but they are so very loud}.

That same commentary says that trusting God’s promise means rest. When we trust God, we don’t have to strive for ourselves. We don’t have “to run about trying to protect or guard ourselves. We have the best Protector, the best Guard in God. We can rest in Him, and when we do, it shows we are really trusting in His promises.”

One of my favorite quotes (and I don’t know who originally said it but I’ve had it written in so many of my journal entries over the years) is, “there is no person walking this earth more powerful than a child of God boldly and properly trusting the promise of the Living God.”

May we all remember, when the world simply feels too loud: In quietness and confidence is our strength. 

Happy Advent, friends.

these walls.

I distinctly remember the day Dave took me and the boys for a walk over the grass field and up the rickety steps leading to the back door of an old farmhouse he had been asked to demolish. He pulled a key from his pocket and led us inside. I noticed the familiar gleam in his eye as he walked excitedly from room to room describing his vision: remove this wall, move the side door over here, replace that wall with windows, reconfigure the kitchen layout, replace the spiral staircase with a wooden one, and on and on. The project seemed immense. Yet, my affection for the old home was undeniable. It exuded character and hospitable charm.

This one walkthrough changed the course of our family’s life. We would eventually take that old home, pick it up and move it to the outskirts of our little town. We would restore it and build our life inside those four walls. It would become the place where we would welcome our two daughters miraculously into our family and then the place we would renovate and expand once more after we outgrew the four walls with the arrival our littlest man. 

Had I known the long road of creating a home out of this old house when I first walked through it that day all those years ago, I think I may have been overwhelmed with all that was to come. But, on that day, it was just a simple tour of a house. That was all. Nothing more. Just one small step on what would be a very unexpected and beautiful road ahead. 

Whatever seemingly insurmountable task you’re facing today, just remember: take it one step at a time. Don’t get overwhelmed with the big picture because, really, you never know what’s in store just down the road. For today, just focus on the next step on the path. And then the next. And the next. One step at a time.

Photo Credit: Scott Wood