Blessings and Raindrops

The past week has been a whirlwind. I can’t thank you all enough for joining us in this rally cry to get our daughter home. The support and encouragement has been amazing and humbling. I’ve been moved to tears many times in response to the outpouring of love this past week.

It has also been an incredibly stressful week. I’ve been glued to my computer and phone waiting for updates and next steps to be announced. Emails, phone calls, text messages, and status updates have been all-consuming.

Unfortunately, I’ve received my fair share of hateful remarks and spam comments from complete strangers with absolutely no regard for the truth or the facts. They are simply using this campaign for justice and twisting it to fit their personal agenda full of propaganda and lies. I wish I could say that the comments and the “shares” that have included my name and my daughter’s name didn’t bother me, that I shook them off and kept pushing forward. But, I can’t say that. The words rattled me and shook at my resolve. I wanted to turn the computer off and go into hiding. I wanted to stay silent and be left alone.

To be perfectly honest, I am exhausted. I am weary. I am so hopeful that this advocacy will make a difference yet I’m ready to be done. I’m ready for mundane moments of normalcy with my family… my complete family…moments that don’t require a ‘call to action’ or a political campaign. I just want to tuck ALL of my children in at night. I want to wash the extra set of dishes. I want to wipe another snotty nose and dry more tears and kiss my daughter’s boo-boos. That may sound completely crazy {who would ask for extra dishes or extra laundry or another snotty nose to wipe?!} but that’s where I am. Craving normal.

Which is why, I decided to step away this past weekend and attend our church’s women’s retreat in the middle of nowhere- with no cell service or access to internet. Just peace and stillness.

These signs marked one of the trails on the property. Beautiful reminders from a loving God.

I even hauled my eight-month preggo self onto a bunk bed to sleep. If that isn’t proof that I needed some time away, I don’t know what is. {My sweet roomies did give me the bottom bunk and the only full bed in the cabin. Bless them}.

The theme for the weekend? All Things New.

He Makes All Things New.

It was a powerful message for my aching, longing, weary heart. The teachings were rich, the community was refreshing, the worship was passionate.

Amber Haines spoke on Friday night and her message centered on holding onto Hope in the wait. Umm. Yeah. Sort of what I needed to hear right now.

The thing is, “the wait” {no matter what it is that you are waiting for… an adoption, a pregnancy, physical healing, financial burdens to be lifted, a marriage to be restored… whatever “it” is) is dreary and long and we can become impatient easily. That impatience leads to a loss of hope. We start to turn our gaze away from the One who sustains us.

I’ve seen this play out over the past year and a half many times in my own life. When I take my eyes off of Jesus and His promises and I place them on the obstacles, the “what if’s,” or the failures, I lose hope. Even when I know, I trust, that He is good and He is working. Because, sometimes, in the wait, it feels like nothing is getting done. I look around at my circumstances and I don’t see the change I have been praying so desperately for. I doubt. I wonder if God hears me. I try to make sense of what is happening with human logic. I look to the efforts of man instead of the ability of God.

Amber said something very powerful in her message, “Every time we are being asked to wait, we are being asked to look to Jesus. To move toward Him – believing in the unseen.”

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.
{Hebrews 11:1}

Faith is in the unseen. 

The miracle? Oh, it’s hard to admit this but I don’t need the miracle in order to hold onto Hope. 

I need to fix my eyes on Him and trust and wait full of His Hope. I can rest in knowing that my faith isn’t too weak or too small. I didn’t cause this. Even though this hurts and He weeps with me, He is using this to draw me closer, allowing me to endure my cross in order to reach the Hope set before me. He loves me. He knows my pain. He hears my prayers and catches my tears. This wait isn’t a punishment. He is working even when I can’t see it. 

After Amber spoke, a sweet, sweet moment with my Abba Father occurred. I felt a gentle nudge to turn to Psalm 40. As the words soaked into my heart, I realized that the worship team was singing a song I had never heard before. I lifted my eyes to the screen and saw the words being sung displayed… 

Psalm 40: 1- 3. 

The exact verses I had been reading were being sung over me. 

For the Lord your God has arrived to live among you. He is a mighty Savior. He will rejoice over you with great gladness. With his love, he will calm your fears. He will exalt over you by singing a happy song. {Zephaniah 3:17}

I pray that whomever reads these words is encouraged today. And, you are able to hold onto another reminder from Amber’s message that seeped into my heart…


“Winter always comes before Spring. Every time.”