Blessings and Raindrops

seeking joy in the midst of the ordinary

to be still.

As I sipped from my steaming mug of coffee and watched the sun rise over the mist-covered fields yesterday morning, I felt grateful. Grateful that instead of turning over and pulling the covers up high, I grudgingly forced myself to get out of bed early {too early, thank you coffee}. In return for the obedience of rising early, I received the rare gift of a few quiet moments to read my Bible and soak in the beauty before me. The neighbor’s cows quietly grazing, the sun’s rays shining through the trees, the mist slowly lifting over the still waters of our pond.

I was reminded of Jen Hatmaker’s words from the IF: Gathering Local I attended this weekend, “serving does not equal striving.” At times, we need to rest. We need to be still in Him. Even if we have to steal brief moments of solitude in between diaper changes and feedings and laundry and dishes stacked high.

I have to choose to rest at His feet. 


Particularly in this season, when I am completely worn out by the end of each day. In Jen’s words again, “you may be broken and poured out for the redemption of someone under your own roof. You don’t have to go far.” This is true for me in these days. Sylvie’s heart is healing. I am stepping into her pain and I am constantly asking for a change of my heart to reflect Him. And, you guys, it’s exhausting.

Which is why I am thankful for moments of rest. Moments to be still in order to be filled up again.

Reading Emily Freeman’s post: Why Rest Takes Courage was a balm to my soul.


The details of soul rest may look different for each of us, but probably includes some combination of silence, solitude, nature, your people, and the willingness to come into the presence of Christ and simply be ourselves.


I encourage you to read it and to choose rest, even in the midst of your busy days. We can’t all step away from the demands and needs vying for our attention. Yet, we can create margin in our lives that allows for rest and restoration, however briefly these moments may last. 
How do you carve out moments in your day for rest? I would love your ideas…

the gospel of grace.

The words shared on IF:Equip yesterday were a balm to my restless soul.  In this season of nurturing little hearts and pouring into the basic needs of little ones, I am feeling weary and small.

My days are full of diaper changes, endless loads of laundry and piles of dishes, wiping noses, redirecting behavior, anticipating meltdowns, feedings, wiping tears, singing silly songs, picking up toys, sweeping floors {and turning on the robot vacuum – best purchase ever}, kissing boo boos, and a bounty of bonding and attachment work.

I have so many friends out in the world changing it for the better. Making a difference. Pouring themselves out for the oppressed. Loving on the lost. Physically making changes in the lives of others. I feel like I’m not living the life I was called to. A sense of restlessness…I should be doing more. I need to go and do.

Oh, friends. What a lie from the enemy.

As I was lamenting another friend going on an incredible trip to do life-giving work in a faraway, desperate-for-the-gospel land, my compassionate and convicting husband reminded me that, here and now,  I am doing life-giving, life-breathing, holy work. As we were talking, I was feeding our littlest love. I was holding her in my arms, she was snuggled up against me peacefully enjoying the nourishment that my body was providing {really, that is just miraculous} when Dave reminded me that this work of raising and nurturing these little lives is my life’s highest calling. Time stood still in that moment. I marveled at the miracle in my arms. Tears filled my eyes. I saw the lies for what they were – the enemy desperately trying to belittle this holy work. My pride and arrogance attempting to take center stage … my desire to do something “big” for the Kingdom, something that I tried to convince myself was for His Glory, when in fact, was only a mask for my own selfish pride.

The gospel of grace.

“I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting him who called you in the grace of Christ …” {Galatians 1:6}


As Jennie Allen and Natalie Grant discuss, we have to fight to live in the gospel of grace…

“There is nothing we did to earn this grace. It was done for us and on our behalf.

That is hard for people to receive. The mindset is, nothing comes for free. In our American culture, to succeed, you have to work for it. It takes humility to say ‘I’m not enough, but God is. That takes all of the glory out of my life and puts it all on the Lord.’ 

This is really easy to talk about but it’s very difficult to live out. It’s about what Jesus did for me. It’s about living in that grace and freedom.”

In my own life, this is a beautiful reminder that nothing I can do changes the fact that I am redeemed and I am free. I am free to live in His grace. I am free to enjoy these good gifts He has graciously given. I am free to let go of expectations and comparisons and guilt. I am free to rest in Him.

Soaking in His grace this morning and praying that you, dear friends, can do the same.

miracles still happen.

Yesterday, as I rocked Charlotte on the dock and watched my other three littles splashing and giggling in the lake with daddy, I couldn’t help but thank God for the beautiful way He authors redemption stories.

I know there are {many} critics of international adoption. I understand the reasons. I firmly believe in restoring first families. I grasp the reality that adoption is not the sole response to orphan care. Adoption is not the ideal situation for children. It is borne out of loss. I mourn all that my sweet girl has lost in her short life. I know the questions will come from her confused little heart someday…the longing for answers – answers that I do not have to give. 
Yet, to those critics, I would argue that I know these moments of laughter and joy are gifts from a loving Father who has held Sylvie in the palm of His hand from her first breath on this globe. She, like every precious child on this earth, deserves the love of a family. 
Her doctors continually use the word “miracle” to describe our girl. We look at the conditions where she lived for the first year and a half of her life and we whisper “miracle.” We marvel at the path God orchestrated for her to come home when it seemed impossible and we praise Him for yet another miracle.
I have had a front row seat to modern-day miracles. 
I have also sat in the tumultuous storm and felt the waves pounding. 
The path was not easy. The journey was not comfortable. Our lives were turned upside down. Our perspectives were changed, our hearts were transformed, our comfort was removed. We stepped out in faith and were given the awesome privilege of an adventure that exceeded our wildest imaginations. 
The transition isn’t perfect. I won’t pretend we are sitting around singing songs and giggling and hugging all day long. But, the beauty is rising above the ashes. The joy of the morning is breaking through in glorious light on the horizon. 

she stood in the gap.

Last weekend, Dr. Laure stood before our church congregation and shared her beautiful testimony. She shared how her youngest son was born just five days after her beloved husband passed away from cancer nearly two years ago. She shared how difficult it was to nurse this precious child…to look at him and ache deeply knowing that he would never know the love of a father.

She shared how God spoke to her in the midst of her grief. She shared how He lovingly reminded her that there were many, many children just outside her door that would never know the love of a parent. She shared how He pressed upon her heart to go and be love to these children.

She transparently shared how she was frustrated with God. How could He ask this of her? She had just lost the love of her life and she was left to raise six children alone. And, He was now asking her to go out and love even more children.

He gave her a verse to cling to —

“I command you — be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.” {Joshua 1: 9}

And, she obeyed.

She has poured out her life in love to hundreds of orphaned children in her home country of DR Congo. She has visited them in illness and cared for them when they are hurting. She has fed them. She has held them and prayed fervently for them. She has taken them into her home.

She has modeled Christ’s selfless love for them.

It hasn’t been easy and she isn’t perfect. Yet, through every hardship, she has leaned into our mighty and faithful God. She has taught me what it means to trust and find joy in all circumstances.

I have watched Christ work through her to heal the heart of our little girl. She took her into her home last June and loved her as her own. Sylvie’s brokenness ran deep from suffering extreme loss in her short life. Yet, slowly, I witnessed God’s healing hand at work in her life.

How could I ever thank my friend for this selfless love? How could I ever thank her for standing in the gap for my momma arms aching to hold my daughter? How could I ever thank her for giving her love and affection and teaching our daughter laughter and joy?

How could I ever begin to thank her for boarding a plane for the very first time, with two days notice, headed to the United States to carry our daughter home? How could I ever thank her for preparing Sylvie’s heart for our family? I don’t think it is possible. Words fail to properly express the gratitude we have for this incredible sister in Christ. We know we would not have our Sylvie here today without Laure’s response to step out and serve in love.

My prayer is that I will not remain unchanged from witnessing this selfless love. I pray that I too will be a vessel for Christ’s love to pour out and for His light to shine in the darkness.


Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”
And I said, “Here am I. Send me!” 
{Isaiah 6:8}