As I spent time on social media, I began to feel a weight of expectations for my own life to match the life I was seeing of others. The more I strived to have the life I was seeing on social media, the less content I became and I began to question everything about myself. Finally, my husband called me out and I decided to fast social media and take my discontentment to the Gospel. Within a few days, I quickly realized that the content I was seeing seemed so scripted. Where was the authenticity? The more I prayed through my struggles, I felt the challenge to, in fact, live more "scripted", which brought me back to this blog I had created months prior. Except the “scripted” life I desire is one that is less scripted for likes and followers and more rooted in the Scripture—the Gospel, so that what I share with the world reflects the hope I profess, the grace I’m dependent on, and the glory of the Lord. As I prayed, I realized I wasn't the only person out there who desired this authenticity. I desire for this blog to be a safe place where others can come, just as they are, for genuine connection. I don't have it all together and I am tired of trying to. There is beauty in the simple, yet purpose-filled life. Grab a cup of coffee and stay a while. I pray that the Lord uses the words He gives me to encourage and give you hope along your path.
I hate surprises. I like to know what’s going on and when it’s going on. I like to be prepared. For most of my life, that’s exactly how I lived. I learned to observe all things around me and read people so that I could prepare myself for any and every situation to try to avoid disappointing anyone. Every move I ever made or word I ever said had to be calculated as to not rock any boats, I needed to be whatever each person wanted me to be. As a child, my anxiety levels soared because I stayed in a constant state of preparation or planning or calculation of mine and everyone else’s next move. Needless to say, if a surprise came my way, I crumbled.
When I was kid we didn’t go out to eat a lot. It had to be a birthday or some other special occasion. When we did venture out, one of the restaurants we loved was O’Charley’s. Every time I would eagerly anticipate the end of the meal. Not that the food wasn’t good, but I had my sights set on a balloon. As you left the restaurant the hostess always gave you a balloon. Once I received it I’d hold it all the way to the car and then look to my Mama. She nod her head and say, “Go ahead”. I wanted the balloon only so I could let it go. It was the highlight of every trip to O’Charleys. I can remember my Mama always saying, “Most kids cry when they lose their balloon, you can’t wait to let yours go”. That was true. I would stand with my neck tilted, remaining in that position even when it started to hurt, to watch the balloon drift away until it was out of my sight. That balloon was free. It drifted in the breeze and could go any direction it chose. It wasn’t afraid of everything or anything. It didn’t have to plan for the direction it was going. It very well might get wrapped around a power line or stuck in a tree or even burst. But, it didn’t stop it from going. My anxiety has been on a high the last several months. The majority stems from all the changes that have come in the last year. I became a Mama, a stay-at-home Mama, and Michael took a new job. Then, we put our house on the market—it hasn’t sold. And, that was my plan. So, my norm is to begin questioning EVERYTHING and analyzing it six ways from Sunday until my stomach is twisted in knots, my hands hurt from wringing them, and my head hurts from all the possibilities. When I ran across this quote on a Pinterest and recalled that about my childhood self, my spirit felt drawn to read in Luke 1:28-38(TPT) about Mary. I have read the story many times, but when I read it today a verse stuck out to me that never has before. So, Gabriel appears and says to Mary, “Grace to you, young woman, for the Lord is with you and so you are anointed with great favor” (v. 28). Now, reading that and not knowing what comes next, that sounds like great news! Since that’s all he initially said to Mary, her reaction should be overjoyed. I mean, the Lord is anointing her with great favor. YES! Isn’t that what we all desire? Yet, the very next verse states, “Mary was deeply troubled over the words of the angel and bewildered over what this may mean for her” (v. 29). Huh? Did you hear Gabriel, Mary? He said you were being anointed with great favor. Why the long face? She doesn’t even know about the baby yet. The baby that she isn’t suppose to have since she is a virgin. All she knows is that Gabriel has come to her with a surprise and it was not in her plans. Her plan was to marry Joseph and probably have kids, but not right now. She was scared. Her face must have looked something like the big eyed emoji because the next verse states, “But the angel reassured her, saying, “Do not yield to your fear, Mary, for the Lord has found delight in you and has chosen to surprise you with a wonderful gift” (v. 30). She is already fearful and she still has no clue about a baby. Her fear is simply rooted in the unknown. The unplanned. Then Gabriel drops the bomb. Mary questions him at first because after all, she knows where babies come from—not St. Vincent’s—and she is a virgin. But, that’s her only question before he delivers his explanation. Gabriel completely rocks her world. And, Mary’s final response, “This is amazing! As his servant, I accept whatever he has for me” (v. 38). Sometimes even the great things the Lord has for us come in scary, unknown, and unplanned packages. The favor and blessings come in form of surprises. God gives us good things, that at first might scare us. Naturally so, because “his thoughts are higher than our thoughts, and his ways higher than our ways” (Isaiah 55:8-9). You aren’t prepared. You didn’t have time to plan. It wasn’t your idea. Even so, what I learned from Mary encouraged me. She was looking in the face of an angel who was promising her the anointing of favor from the Lord, and her first reaction was still fear. But, it was okay to be scared in the face of the unknown—as long as she didn’t remain there. She chose to surrender her fear and find her peace in the Lord. She was his servant and so she would trust in whatever he had planned for her. This year my only goal is to look more to the gospel in my fear, to look toward the light when I can’t see through the darkness of the unknown. To hopefully, like Mary, find delight and peace in being a servant to the Most High—whatever he has for me.
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I spent the better part of the day looking at a view similar to this. We went from this mess, to the one in the living room, more times than I can count. She crawled all over the place and I repeated, “Whitleigh. No, no”. I washed dishes. She threw up morning bottle all over us, as it went down the wrong way—completely scared me. I addressed Christmas cards.
Then I stopped for a moment and looked up from loading the dishwasher. All of this is mine. All the dirt on the floor, the piled dishes, the baby who won’t take her paci out because new teeth are cutting in. All the mess is mine. Is it Pinterest worthy? Not in the least. It’s the life God so graciously led me to after running from him. After thinking I knew best. I thought I knew my dreams. In high school, my ambition was to get a degree, so I could get a fancy job and be able to buy all the fancy business clothes from the Victoria’s Secret catalog—I know, real concrete goals. So, I went to the University of Alabama with wrong intentions. Thus leading me to leaving the University of Alabama to come home to get a my cosmetology license. I married way to young, with no understanding of love, so that I prove everyone wrong only to end up 21 and divorced. After that was a sting of one poor decision after another until the day I met Jesus. Not halfway met him. Not scared from the sermon met him. Not I know all the right things to say and a couple scriptures out of context met him. But, new direction, new person, didn’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore met him. Then everything changed. He began to give me different dreams and take me down roads that I never saw myself traveling down. He gave me a man to love me and share Christmas Tree cakes with on our anniversary. He would use that love to teach me about prayer and waiting and grace. He gave me a desire for kids. He walked me through a miscarriage and allowed me to understand his goodness differently, then so graciously gave me our girl. He opened my heart to young people and burdened me to make a difference in their lives, to show them the love of Jesus by loving and supporting them. Then he walked me down a path to a degree so that I could. I have surrendered to the Lord and his plans, but I have also wrestled with him over his plans. I have been angry at him and ignored him and even yelled at him sometimes. He allows me to be broken, but he never leaves me that way. Knowing this truth doesn’t always mean I reach for it in tough seasons. Sometimes it’s as though I don’t know how to open my Bible, and even when I get it open, it’s as if the words don’t make sense. Because I’m seeing it through the lens of my feelings or circumstances or other people’s blessings compared to blessings I’m not receiving. I wallow in that. In my current season there’s anxiety and frustration and questions. But, he is big enough to handle it. He is big enough to handle my honesty in my feelings towards him and his ways. He is big enough to overcome it, if I’ll let the light in. It’s a process. Sometimes it feels like ripping off a bandaid, and dripping a little a little alcohol on that wound. And then, it starts to heal. I have no idea why I felt compelled to be this transparent. Other than lately I have been consumed with the desire to hide for one reason or another. I’ve been consumed with being worried about what others think and allowing their opinions of me to be my truth. The truth is I know who I am in Christ and that’s enough. That’s my truth. I am more than the sum of every single one of my mistakes. I am more than the enemy lies. I am more than cowering to manipulation. I am more than self hate. I am more than a discouraged heart. I am more than the past. I am more because of the work of the cross. I have been made confident in Christ. For whatever reason, the Lord laid these words on my heart and continued to move me to share. So here it is. Every raw word and truth on display in hopes that someone else finds hope. This is cinnamon squares and burnt parchment paper in a trash bag. It was never intended to be in a trash bag, yet there it was.
I had a plan. We were going to a 4th of July breakfast and there was a Magnolia Table cookbook recipe I wanted to try. I made my dough the night before to save time the morning of and I went to sleep eager to see how to turned out. Expect when I woke up on the 4th, my headache from the night before had worsened. See, on the 3rd I somehow forgot to make my coffee. I realized it as I was cleaning the kitchen and wondered as to why the Keurig handle was lifted. It was past 9:00 and I knew I’d never get to sleep if I drank it then. But now, the pounding headache that I had all day made since. No caffeine. Anyway. Up at 6:00 am to set out the dough to warm up—head still hurting. Up again at 7:00 am to start the cinnamon squares—head still hurting. As I got out all my ingredients I realized I didn’t feel like attempting these. My head hurt and I was tired. What I wanted to do was send Michael to the store to grab some cinnamon rolls that I could pop in the oven real fast. But, is that what I did? Of course not. Which landed me staring at trash bag full of cinnamon squares. My spirit told me to rest, to send Michael to buy the cinnamon rolls. Because the dough would keep until the next day and I would feel better to try again. My need for approval told me to push through, forget how I felt, and take the homemade cinnamon squares. Truth—not one person would have disapproved of me. That’s the lie I chose to believe. Long story short, the parchment paper—that the recipe called for—ended up catching on fire and burning in the oven. Smoke filled the house and I quickly removed the squares from the oven. I put the squares on a different pan with no parchment paper and popped them back in the oven. Only to quickly realize part of the paper had burned and fell into the oven. More smoke in the house. By the time I got most of the smoke out the breakfast had started, Whitleigh Jo had peed on the bed and then she fell asleep—not in the pee. What was my next course of action? To sit on the bed and cry—ugly cry. During this moment I thought, “You just mess up everything”. Once I came out of my pity party, my thoughts bothered me. I felt like a failure because of burnt parchment paper. But, it was more than that. It was because I was mad at myself for not just sending Michael to the store. That’s when I realized how far out of control my need for approval and lack of surrender to God telling me to quit had become. Those moments when I’m so frustrated because things don’t go as planned—I didn’t surrender to God. Those moments when I work really hard on something so I can hear that ‘Atta girl’ but I never get it, only leaving me feeling like a failure—I didn’t surrender to God. Every time I don’t surrender to God, this is what I’m causing—a trash bag full of potential with the wrong kind of follow through. God has been asking me to surrender my need for approval for a couple weeks now. But, that place feels safe. It’s how I’ve always validated myself—by becoming whatever and whoever I thought everyone else wanted. Even though I have freedom from my past, this process became an unconscious unhealthy habit and motivation (Galatians 1:10). Once again, my thoughts sounded something like, “What’s wrong with you? Quit doing this”. Once the smoke had cleared (pun intended) my phone buzzed with a daily bible verse, “Create in my a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” Psalm 51:10. The word renew stood out the most because you don’t need to renew something unless it can run out. If you know anything about David, you know that he, like us, didn’t always make the best choices. He leaned to his own understanding a good bit. In fact, this particular Psalm is part of his confession after his sin with Bathsheba. David had failed. He had not surrendered his unhealthy choice to God. For it says in 2 Samuel 11:27 that “the thing David had done displeased the Lord”. David knew this and called upon the Lord to be renewed. God doesn’t need us to be perfect. But, He does need us to surrender those imperfections to Him so that his power can be made perfect (2 Corinthians 12:9). We don’t have to live for approval, because we live from it (Ephesians 1:4). God’s been moving in me lately, in a way I have trouble putting into words. I feel like he is unraveling me—one situation at a time—and I’m not holding the needle or the new thread. He is and I’m here for it. • “One moment in your presence changes everything. Here I am abandoned, You are all I seek. Have your way in me. Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom and there is healing.” -Highlands Worship My old room in my parent’s house. This was my view for the last few days. Michael came down with the flu, so tiny lady baby and I took a trip to the farm. We were thankful to have somewhere to escape the germs, but not being at home had this routine loving Mama and routine thriving girl in all kind of knots.
I believe God allows circumstances to remove us from our comfort zone when he needs our attention. For the last few weeks my spirit has been wrapped up in anxious thoughts. For no apparent reason, other than I felt somewhat unsettled. I should not be surprised. I have been seeking God more, as I enter a new season of life. I feel myself growing and I know the enemy is not happy about it. The days away from home provided me a lot of time to reflect. Going to my Mama’s you cannot help but to take a step back and slow down. Life is different there. It is slower. I mean, at night, I would sit on my parent’s couch and call my husband on the land line, because service was not great or non-existent and my phone was needed as a sound machine for my girl. When I am there I appreciate the quiet more. The noises of the world stop and are replaced by sounds of nature. Birds and bugs and breezes. You can hear your own thoughts clearly. During my days of snapping beans and making do with less, I thought about the story of Martha and Mary in Luke 10. Verses 39-40: “She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made—“. Verses 41-42: “Martha, Martha”, answered the Lord, “you are worried and upset over all the details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it”. Clearly the concern for all things unimportant has been an issue for MANY years. The concern for doing enough and being enough. A concern I am all too familiar with today. Martha was so enamored with the striving, the hustle that she was willing to call out her own sister in order to shine. Martha was frustrated that Mary seemed to gain the favor from the Lord by doing nothing by sitting and listening. I mean, did he not see her do ALL THE THINGS? Did he not see her being a boss babe? Now, maybe she just wanted to please the Lord, but her response to Mary says something else. What I hear in Martha’s response is pay attention to me. “Hey, Lord. Um, yes, see me over here? I have done ALL this for you. Mary has done nothing but sit a listen to you. I have earned your attention. I have hustled”. My reflection on this story came with conviction of all the times I have fallen victim to this same lie. Society tells us to earn our place. Work harder. Be more. Buy more. Hustle. Be assertive. God tells us to rest. To come, sit and listen. Our seat is always safe. (And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus. Ephesians 2:6) The world creates an inward focus, while the word creates a focus completely on Jesus. When your gaze is there all things will be added unto you (Matthew 6:33). Maybe not fancy things or trophies or status. But the important things like humility and grace and joy. I do not want to be so distracted with the anxious thoughts I gain from the world or social media, that I miss the moments of simply sitting at the feet of Jesus. Because it is there I find purpose and freedom and discover who I am. I am not sure where you are today, but be encouraged to take a load off, sit, and listen to what God might be trying to speak into your spirit. His voice is not often the loudest, but a whisper, that needs quiet to be heard. William Shakespeare said that “expectation is the root of all heartache”.
Expectation. A word that I feel has been surrounding me lately. There are expectations placed on all of us every day and we, in turn, place many expectations on others. Expectations exist in our careers, marriages, friendships, and even as parents. We seem to be bogged down at times when we do not feel the expectations can be met. Resulting in heartache, frustration, anxiety, and stress. We know the effects of not feeling like we live up to an expectation, yet we place expectations on others only to be disappointed when they do not meet those expectations. Disappointment. Another result of expectations. But, is it because of expectation, in general, or the reality that our expectations are too high? Seriously. I become frustrated with my school kids BECAUSE of my unmet expectations. I become frustrated with my husband BECAUSE of unmet expectations. That list goes on and on. But, the worst one of all, I become frustrated with God BECAUSE of my expectations. BECAUSE I can only ever see a part of what He is doing and my expectations of him place him in a box he is never supposed to be. Thoughts, such as this, concerning expectations and disappointment have been playing through my mind lately. Like always, whenever a thought captivates me, God always shows up to speak his truth into it. Jeremiah 29:13 tells us, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart”. I am always amazed at how personally he reveals himself to us. He knows the beginning, the end, and everything in between. He knows when I am going to need him to speak to me and he knows exactly the circumstances to orchestrate SO THAT I see him. A couple of weeks ago, I had the privilege to hear one of the people I love the most speak to a group of ladies and tell the story God has given to her. I was completely captivated by her words. I watched her in complete awe as peace and confidence radiated through her. She knew the story God had given her had to be told and she stood in his power to deliver it. I had heard her story before and lived through parts of it with her, but despite knowing some of what she would say that day a part of what she said rocked my world. Before getting into the personal details of her story she referred to the story of Mary and the question posed by the popular Christmas song, “Mary, did you know?” If you have never heard that song, the lyrics are a combination of questions being asked to Mary concerning her knowledge of the inevitable future of her child. She would endure great suffering and a parent’s worst nightmare. Although her son would save the world from sin, he would have to suffer and die. As she was speaking, my friend addressed a thought that I had never considered. What if God would have revealed to her, years in advance, her future? Would she still choose to walk that path? In the days that followed I began completing a devotional plan on the Bible app. The plan was an advent plan, created by my church. The central message? Why, Mary, of course. Oh, hey there God. Every day I read the words, I thought of all the things my friend said in her message. What expectations did Mary have for what was ahead? That is when her words in Luke 1:38 were revealed to me, “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled”. Her expectations were simple. She was a servant to the Lord, so bring it on whatever comes. Really? She was PREGNANT because an angel told her she was. She was not married. And yet, she calmly fist bumped that angel and said, “Let’s do this.”. All because of the trust and peace she had in the Lord. Whoa. How do I find that faith and peace? Last week I felt God telling me to hide away for a little while. I am a homebody and introvert. So, these promptings from him are never hard for me to acknowledge. Hiding away and seeking Him is my safe space. The noise of the world goes away, and my perspective gets realigned to his truth. However, this time was different because I felt out of sorts. I spent most of the days in tears and asking God what he was doing. When this happens, I get really quiet and press into Him by reading. I picked up a book that I have been trying to complete, Anything by Jennie Allen. As I read through a chapter labeled “The Normal Drug”, my thoughts about the expectations I place on everyday events challenged me. We often hear the phrase, “Wait expectantly on God”. While I believe this, I also am learning that the root of the expectation can influence our belief of who God is and possibly hinder our relationship with him. Are we waiting on God to do anything according to his will or are we waiting on God to do things the way we have planned in our hearts? Let me explain. Recently, Michael and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. We made it. To us, our wedding day was perfect. In the weeks leading up to the wedding I decided that all expectations of how the day was supposed to go were getting laid aside. I wanted to be fully present in every moment. If something strayed from the plan, oh well. I decided that if the pastor and Michael showed up, I was walking out with my dream come true. Marrying Michael was all that mattered. Looking back, it was this mindset that made the day seem so flawless to us. That same mindset did not follow me into our first months of marriage. The weeks and months ahead were tough, but not for the reasons you may think. We did not argue over the typically newly married things. In fact, we did not argue at all. We were excited to be doing life together. We discussed our dreams for the future and then did the thing that always seems to backfire. We made plans and timelines. Then we took those plans for our future and stored them in our hearts with the expectation that is how things would go. I think God shakes his head at our attempt to control and organize our life plans as he knows what is up ahead. Not only does he know what is coming, but he knows how it will end and he knows that it will be what is best for us. About a month and a half after we were married, something did not feel right. I could not focus. Honestly, I did not feel like myself, but I could not pinpoint what was wrong. One day, when driving home from work, something in my spirit told me to buy a pregnancy test. So, I did and the next morning I took it. I am pretty sure when I went in to tell Michael the results, he thought someone had died. I could not even get out the words through my tears. The test was positive, and it was supposed to make me overjoyed, but it did not. You see, part of our planning including having children, but not during football season. This positive test would have me delivering in October. October. One of the months, in our timeline planning, Michael and I decided was not a good time for a baby. Hello, God. Um, that is FOOTBALL SEASON. Are you aware of how our lives look during that time? Do you realize how stressed my husband gets? But I will never forget the look on Michael’s face when I was finally able to mutter the words, “I am pregnant”. It was sheer joy. Yet, something deep in my spirit would not settle. In the weeks ahead, we would face the reality that something was not right. The awful words, “this pregnancy may not be viable” became our reality and our relationship took a hit. We had been sacked by an unexpected pregnancy and the disappointment that God had a different plan. I have yet to figure out exactly how I changed in those weeks, but I did. It was not supposed to be this way and no planning or organization I tried could fix it. Michael and I struggled to sort out how we felt, individually, and how that looked in our relationship. I struggled feeling like I failed Michael. I did not expect to get pregnant so quickly and I did not expect to have it taken away. (Job 1:21) These expectations I had developed made me angry with God. Only one other time in my life have I ever had such honest conversations with God, and I was not a believer then. I learned that he could take it and he loves that transparency from us. It was in the moments of telling him how I did not understand, that I was beyond angry, and seemingly shutting myself off to him that I realized how precious my God is. On one of the darkest days, I can vividly remember Michael standing at our bedroom door. With tears in his eyes he said, “You are supposed to be the one standing here helping us pull it together. You are the one who always quotes the scripture and tells me to trust what God is doing. But, right now you can’t. So, I am going to do it for you”. If I am honest, I never thought Michael paid much attention to me during the difficult times he has faced. However, what I heard from God at that moment was so clear. You just need me. You can be angry. I will heal that. You do not have to be strong, I work better when you are weak. Let your expectations center around being with me. Back to our anniversary, I promise I am getting to my point. My only expectation for that day was to be with Michael. I was so excited to be waking up next to him, realizing all God had done for us and in us. So, when I woke up to roses and breakfast from Jack’s (my favorite), I was pleasantly surprised. Because if we are honest, as women we are guilty of expecting our husbands to pull out all the stop on these occasions, which sometimes results in us only feeling frustration. Beside the flowers was a card from Michael and the words inside changed my perspective on expectations. It read, “Thank you for being you. Thank you for making me a husband and a father. I love you”. If I had attempted to imagine or expect something, he could say to me that day, these words far exceeded it. THAT WAS IT. I had not pre-planned how this day would go. I did not have these huge expectations of how Michael would display his love for me. I had no expectation of how the day would be and being present in these moments with my husband enough. Instantly, a million thoughts raced through my mind. Earlier in that week I had read something that centered around Ephesians 3:20, “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us”. I have heard this verse tons of times and seen how God has displayed this truth in the lives of so many. The word expect could easily fit in to the place along with “ask or imagine”. Essentially, that is what we do when we ask or imagine, we have developed expectations or how a situation should turn out. Because it is not the expectation itself that causes problems, but rather when the expectation goes unmet. What if our only expectation of God, in any given situation, was to be with him, to learn to love him more deeply, for him to be glorified and to worship him? There is a song that I keep on repeat in my car because the words help to keep my heart focused on God and not what is happening around me. The words are simple, “Your heart, Your ways. Show me Your face. Your song and Your Voice, break through the noise. I don’t want it if You’re not in it, I just want you”. If the miscarriage happens, I just want you. If the healing does not come, I just want you. If you lose the job, I just want you. What if immeasurably more looks like just being content with God to do anything? Our expectations could not breed frustration or disappointment if they are just centered on letting God be God and being content in that. Show up to every situation expecting God to reveal himself to you. Show up expecting him to be glorified through whatever you are facing. Show up ready to worship him. Now, can we imagine or expect things and God exceed them? Absolutely! God cannot be put into a box. But I believe it is when the only expectation we have is more of him, that is when it is always immeasurably more. Mary had one expectation, to be a servant of the Lord and for the Word to be fulfilled (Luke 1:38). Later in Luke 1:46-49, Mary declares, “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me – holy is his name”. We call her blessed, her son suffered and died. In that act, the immeasurably more was that Jesus took it all for our sins to set us free. Mary expected to be called blessed, no matter what the next years would bring, because her expectations for the future rested in God. One of my favorite verses is Luke 1:37, “No word from God will ever fail”. That is where I want my expectations for my life to rest. He will always show up. He will always make a way. He will always pursue me. He will always do what is for my good and his glory. No matter what I face, I can always expect that HE will be immeasurably more. Space, Time, & Grace is not just the title for this blog, but it is a way I have learned to live life. It is no secret that our culture is fast-paced, which leaves little room for being still, waiting, or extending grace easily. Because all of those things take something, we do not feel like we have. Time. Personally, that is a statement I often make, “Sorry. I do not have the time”. Do not get me wrong, sometimes I am busy, but other times, it is simply the fact I feel I cannot keep up with the pace of life. There is a push for instant and I am exhausted.
A few years ago, I was on a Max Lucado kick. I could not get enough of the words God was speaking through him. The first book I read was, You’ll Get Through This. I began reading this book during a difficult season I was experiencing and as I read the book, it was as if Max Lucado knew my situation and was speaking directly to me. A bonus was that the tone in his writing made me feel as if I were sitting on the porch with a grandfather who was dropping some wisdom on me. (Not saying that Max Lucado is old. Insert foot in mouth. Age brings wisdom. Yeah.) Needless to say, I could not wait to read another one of his books. The season I was in went from being difficult to seemingly impossible. It was a season of waiting, but I was feeling pressure to end the wait. Therefore, becoming incredibly discontent with what was or was not happening and what could possibly happen in the future. Enter Max Lucado book number two, He Still Moves Stones. The book encouraged me, in the midst of a situation that was stagnant. The book spoke the truth that God was the God of miracles and that He had the power to move, even in the most stubborn hearts. However, it was one line from this book that shifted my spirit and perspective, not only about this situation, but the perspective I had concerning the course of my life. “What if Jesus had disowned them? Or worse still, what if he’d suffocated his family with his demand for change? He didn’t. He instead gave them space, time, and grace”. -Max Lucado I realized then that the sentiment of space, time and grace was played a crucial role throughout my life. Space, time, and grace guided me through three of the most challenging seasons and valleys I have walked through. Let me explain.
I met my best friend when I was five, on my first day of Kindergarten. And, naturally, we were like daylight and dark. She was gentle and constant while I was rough and unpredictable. But, it worked. I adored her gentle yet strong disposition (even though I never told her that). She had a big heart and her smile radiated the light within her. Then at eighteen years old, she was gone. She went home to our Heavenly Father. It was in that moment my world grew dark and yet, that moment was the first time I knew, for certain, that God was real (I will post the details of the story in a later post). You see, Whitney loved the Lord and she radiated His love to everyone around her. All those years, I intently watched her.Everything she did fascinated me, because she lived a life so that and set apart. I would go along with the Bible stories and I even learned to sing along to her favorite Christian songs. However, it was all surface level. I did not truly understand it. After her death, I wrestled with God. He met me in the church on the day of her funeral. I remember, so clearly, standing in the cemetery and feeling the wind. There were tons of people around me, but I felt like I was standing alone. I saw no one around me. As I stood there with warm tears streaming down my face, something came into my spirit, it was God, but I was reluctant to accept His offer. Mainly because I did not know how, and I was angry. That was the beginning of many troublesome years. My journey and decisions were destructive. So, as years passed, I was sure He would not want me after all I had done, so I continued to run until I became too tired to keep going. I needed relief from the pain I was feeling. I needed the angst in my heart to disappear. I was suffocating. I hit rock bottom, but that is where God was waiting to pick me up. He met me the same way He did in the cemetery that day, except this time when He met me, I saw Him through a different lens. That day I saw Whitney. I recalled all the times I would mess up, but she would love me anyway. I recalled all the times I hurt her by my actions, but she forgave me anyway. No matter what I did or how far I ran from her friendship, she would be there waiting for me. Whitney saw the ugliest parts of me, and she loved me, not only despite those parts but because of them. She gave me space, time, and grace. Because of her example, the light she let shine, I was able to understand God’s love for me and accept Him as my savior.
The occurrence of space, time, and grace in our relationship came about before he was my husband. You see, the moment I met Michael, I felt in my spirit that he would be my husband. Michael, on the other hand, did not know that. We will say he was not quite in the marriage mindset. We dated for about six months when the conversation happened that every girl hopes against. I think I need a break. While I was somewhat blind-sided, my discernment prepared me weeks earlier as I felt in my spirit that something was off. Nevertheless, I was devastated. Plus, the terms Michael desired for the break were not black and white, there was lots of gray area that I could not understand or navigate through. Really, God? You speak to me that he will be my husband and then take it away. How could you do this? As soon as the question left my lips, I heard God whisper, Wait. After much prayer, that is exactly what I did. The months that followed there were many ups and downs as we navigated through this season. We still talked and had dinner, occasionally. Yet, he was emotionally unavailable, which is my love language. The whole process was uncomfortable. More accurately, it was painful. The choice I made to wait on Michael was one that confused many people I was close to. Naturally, we live in a world where assertiveness and control take precedence over gentleness and patience. Our culture is one of instant gratification. We do not wait for much of anything without becoming annoyed in the process. However, the Bible uses the word wait approximately 106 times throughout the scriptures. Waiting on the Lord is important. Still, I can hear the criticism and questions I faced during that season. So, you are just going to ALLOW him to control how this goes? Tell him y’all can either be together or nothing. While I understand that most of the people felt that their criticism was showing that they cared for me, more often the criticism left me in a dark place, questioning God. A place I did not like to be in. Because, in that place I would make decisions based on others opinions of my situation, rather than trusting in God’s timing and instruction to wait. So, I shut the world out and pressed into God. It was in that season that I read the line from He Still Moves Stones and when space, time, and grace became real. There was a night that I literally fell on my face before the Lord. At that moment, there was ugly crying and I am pretty sure He heard more gasps than words, but I poured my heart out to Him. At that moment, I decided that if I was going to choose to wait, I was going to do it well and with conviction. I was not going to be swayed by others but stand firm in my faith. God shifted something in my spirit that night. From that moment forward, I walked out what He had spoken to me. That is when things began to change. Slowly and steadily, I watched God move in Michael’s heart. His defenses softened. Now every day was not easy, but I refused to be defeated because I knew God was fighting for me. He was doing more within Michael in my stillness than I could do through ultimatums and promptings. I finally gave Michael space, time, and grace. And now, we are approaching our one year marriage anniversary December 16th. One of the clearest moments of my wedding day, I was standing in the hallway waiting for the ceremony to start. My step-dad whispered to me, “Do you remember a few years ago when you were crying on the porch and you said to me, “I believe God just wants me to wait for him”? Well, sweetheart, I think you made a really good decision”. I stood there in awe, hearing the worship music play, and rejoicing in all God had done. Space, time, and grace is NOT going to be easy to give. But, that space, time, and grace is how he loves us. It is a sentiment that changes hearts.
Several years ago, about a year after I had been saved, I heard some words that I thought were crazy. I can still remember exactly where I was, when I close my eyes, I can put myself back in that place.The feel, sounds, sights, and smells. I was sitting outside Starbucks with a friend. We were deep in conversation when a stranger walked up to our table. He introduced himself, told us he was a pastor at a local church and said, “I know this may seem strange, but God has instructed me to tell you something”. Whaattt?! At this point in my salvation, I was still wrapping my head around lots of new truths of the gospel, so someone HEARING God’s voice. Yes, it was strange. However, because I was completely blindsided, I responded that he could tell me. “You’re going to write. That is your future”. At this point in my life, I had enrolled at Jacksonville State, pursuing my degree in education, specifically English. So, his words did not seem crazy anymore, that is exactly what I was pursuing. Purpose accomplished, or so I thought. The years continued to pass, and something began to be birthed in my spirit, to write. I felt this desire and call, but I had no idea what that looked like. That is when God begins to place people in my life who would recommend that I begin a blog. HA! That seemed like a joke to me. I loved writing. I loved words. But, it was something I did because it felt good, that is it. Most of what I wrote, I did not even allow others to read because I was convinced, I was not enough. Actually, I am not enough. But, God. The more people mentioned putting my words out there for others to read, the more this desire in my spirit to write grew. However, if you haven’t figured it out yet, I can be quite good at ignoring what God is asking. I can rattle off a list of a thousand reasons why God surely cannot use me and normally those reasons win the battle. But, they can never win the war because God always has the final word. Anytime I choose to ignore what God is asking of me, he ALWAYS puts something in my path so that I cannot ignore him any longer. He worked like this… I was meeting in a small group in the fall of 2017 at Starbucks. Remember the man I told about at the beginning of this section? The one who said the Lord told him I would write? Well, as a small group meeting came to an end, I looked up to see him walking in the door. Instantly, his words came to mind and I heard God say it, Write. Share. Trust Me. When I saw the man, I told my small group leader the story, but quickly brushed it off. Again. This summer I took a new job. While in meetings to prepare for the new position, I met a lady who had also just been hired. She was very nice, but we were not going to be working at the same school. I spoke with her a few times but since we would not be at the same school and did not have the same content area we did not talk much. However, for some reason she resonated with me. After I began my position, I was encouraged to create a professional Twitter, as that is a way my system shares in our progress. I did not know many people, so I created the Twitter and that was it. One day I received a notification that the lady from the summer meetings started to follow my page. When I saw her picture, I instantly clicked to view her profile. The last tweet on her page was a picture of her and her husband. And who do you think her husband was? Yep. The man with the words from the Lord. I heard God say it again, Write. Share. Trust Me. The saying is the third time is the charm, right? Well, even after both these encounters, I still ignored God. Once the school year started, I was overwhelmed. Between finding my place in my new position, beginning my second semester of graduate school, and finding out I was expecting, I found it hard to find the time or brain space for much of anything. Soon, I found myself in a tough situation that was out of my control. One evening I went to Target to pick up a few items and decided a Starbucks coffee would help me feel better. The line was long and my mind was in a million different places. The longer I stood in line, the louder a voice from behind me became. I was not even hearing the words of the person, but their voice echoed in my mind. I tried to block it out and I could not. Finally, I decided to turn around. Standing in line, a few people behind me, stood that same man. Once I saw him, I suddenly could not hear him talking anymore. I just heard God say, Write. Share. Trust Me. That is the night I went home and looked up the blog I had created so flippantly several months before. I found the initial post I had written that summer, ignored the voice of insecurities, and trusted God with the words he had given me. God gave me space, time, and grace to receive his calling. I can now recall tons of times since the idea of space, time, and grace entered my life, that the sentiment has impacted me. As the world around us continues to urge us to go faster, push harder, and take control, I feel a pull deep inside me to slow down and look up. Through every moment, I see why Jesus chose space, time, and grace to handle a tough situation and why it had the greatest impact. Because, it is Gods way of drawing us to himself. This is not the post I planned on. For weeks, I have worked on another post. It was written, for the most part, months ago when the dream of this blog was placed in my spirit. I knew how to finish it, but it was not happening. In the weeks following my first blog post, life happened. School work piled on both in my career as a teacher and in my continuing college courses. I have also been participating in a Freedom group this small group season. And, honestly, as much as my experience in the group led me to starting this blog, I have also become very quiet. Freedom is everything I thought it would be and so much more (Ephesians 3:20). I am out in the deep end of my faith, WAAYYY deeper than I ever allowed myself to go. My soul is being searched and transformed through the Holy Spirit in ways I longed for but did not have the courage to ask God to do. So, this blog, took a backseat. Normally, that would have frustrated me. I would bombard God with my confusion. Okay, God. You told me to start this, I did, and now you just have it on hold. Then I would question whether I heard God correctly. Surprisingly though, my reaction has been quite the opposite. I felt still and at peace (a combination that does not usually occur in my restless heart). And, it felt good. Through this semester of Freedom, I can feel God moving like never before, but I cannot see where He is taking me.
In these weeks leading up to this post, I walked through some tough faith moments. Yes, God, I did ask you to do something big. I believe my words were, for you to move in a way that I will not question it is you. But, God, this is crazy. Are you sure? Surely you can accomplish this another way. That when He said something to me that has shifted my perspective on prayer. Morgan, you cannot ask me to do big things and expect small answers. Whoa. Insert gut punch. I wanted God to move. I wanted to see the miraculous. I wanted it in a nice box with borders that I created, and for it to happen in a way that I could understand. I realized I had placed God in a box, along with my faith. God cannot work that way. Yes, He is God and He has the power to do whatever He desires. However, sometimes we do not allow Him to be that God. We only allow Him to be what we feel is safe and easy for our minds to comprehend. We only allow Him to move when it is comfortable for us. Our lack of faith blocks the fullness of His power. The next few lines need a disclaimer. You can laugh. The situation does seem strange to some, but it is how God knew He could get my attention, so He used it. Before I dive in, you need to understand the intensity of Freedom group. The enemy DOES NOT like what is taking place. He is losing his grip on me because of the authority I am taking as a child of God, in Jesus name. So, he attempts to use my insecurities to keep me from boldness and my purpose. Now on to the point. In May, we had kittens show up at our house. Michael was not amused by the fact that I felt the need to take care of them. Quickly, they became ours. Surprisingly enough, they brought a lot of joy to our days as we watched them grow. I made the decision a few weeks ago to have them neutered, so that we did not have a reoccurring trend of kittens at our home. However, when the time came, one of the kittens had a weak heart and did not make it through surgery. Before I go further, I know these are just cats, but I took responsibility for them. Anyway, these kittens had never been apart. The kitten that survived was pitiful. I brought him home to watch him cry and search for his brother. Maybe some of my reaction could be contributed to my pregnancy hormones, but it broke my heart. I cried, sobbed for two days. One of the days, while discussing with Michael if we should keep this kitten or try to find it a better home, I said something that shook me. God, why did you make me this way? I do not understand why you gave me such a sensitive heart. It only ever causes me problems and hurt. What were you thinking? The enemy was planting the seed in my mind that something was wrong with me. I was not only not enough, but I was too much. He was weaving in the depths of my heart that I had no purpose. Normal people would not respond this way. These thoughts brought on a whole mess of other thoughts that were all breaking down my identity in Christ. See, in the weeks before this someone had made a comment to me that rattled me and even after talking it out in small group, would not leave me. I do not remember the context of the conversation, but somehow my past was brought up and she said, “I heard you were a mean girl in high school”. It devastated me. Mostly, because it was true, but I had hoped to never face the fact after being saved. There it was. One of my dark moments, brought to the light. I wrestled with this memory. I coupled it with the current thought that God made a mistake in creating me, and it paralyzed me, until yesterday. I went into church full of expectation, not realizing what God was about to do. We are currently in my favorite message series of the year, “At The Movies”. Pastor Chris follows the parable teaching of Jesus as he takes movies and reveals biblical truths through the stories. The movie yesterday was Wonder. I am sure most of you know the story. A little boy, August Pullman, who has facial differences struggles with discouragement and fitting in. He wears an astronaut helmet to hide his face, to hide who he is. Pastor Chris started by reading Psalm 139, “You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed”. I sat in the chair and sobbed. I was trying not to look around. Michael leaned over and whispered, “Are you okay”. I just nodded. But, I was being wrecked from the inside out. At that moment, I felt God grab hold of those lies the enemy had been planting and pull them out of me with great force. Then I head Pastor Chris saying, “taking off the mask”. That was it. Yes, I had been that mean girl. I felt so far from that high school person, yet at the same time I felt like I could not escape it. Why did I do those things? Because, I was insecure. I regret them deeply. It is one of the many things I always prayed no one would remember or find out. Now, I feel God directing me to put it on display (2 Corinthians 11:30). The day I was saved removed that sin from my life. I had to give those dark moments over to Him for transformation. I am learning those are the things He uses to reveal His glory and power. He did not need for me to hide behind my past, but to bring it out, to show how He transforms the darkness of our past, mistakes, and short comings with His light. One of the things that ALWAYS shocks me is when people talk about my gentle spirit. Why? Because, the enemy brings up that mean girl. I can remember waking up the day after giving my life to Christ. Something within me was different. I physically felt it. I honestly did not recognize myself in the mirror. I knew I was no longer the old me, but I was transformed by Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17). In each passing day, I struggled as I did not recognize myself. Then I would overhear how people would refer to my disposition, gentle. It did not make sense. But that is just it. If I had the same disposition I do now, as I did before Christ came to live within me, I may try to boast in myself, not giving God the credit for who I am. Not hiding he dark and dirtiness of who I was before Christ, shouts from the rooftops of the depths of His grace! He needs me to take off the mask and not be ashamed of my past, but to boast in those past and present weaknesses to reveal His glory. That is my purpose. One of the scenes Pastor Chris showed from the movie Wonder, was of a boy standing up for August against a bully. That is how God stands up for me. Just like that bully, the enemy speaks lies about who we are. He knows that if he attacks our identity in Christ, he can gain a foothold and wreak havoc on our spirits. But, when he tells me I am not worthy, and my past is too messy for God to use my present, I picture God walking up and punching him out on my behalf. God can shut down those whispers and those lies I one swift punch. Boom. Done. Over. I am not sure how God will use this, but I know He will. There is a long list of other parts of my past. Lots of moments of darkness that I am not proud of. I know we all have dark moments that we struggle with. There are things about us that we are not proud of and issues of the flesh we struggle with daily. However, it is those things that make much of what Christ did on the cross (2 Corinthians 12:9). These words flowed into my journal yesterday during the service. I heard God say, Share this. I tried to argue with Him last night. God, I already have most of the next blog post. That is my plan. So, I did not sit down and write. As I drifted off to sleep, last night, I heard We will get to the other post, but I need you to share this first. So, God, here it is. Have your way. I am learning that being vulnerable, transparent, and authentic is better than the façade of perfection. So, here it is, a journey of transparency through the written word. If you choose to follow this blog journey with me, I pray you are encouraged. Not because of my words and story, but because of His.
I love to write. I love words. Words are powerful (Proverbs 15:4). Words can help heal our hurts. We can take our bibles or books, grab some coffee, and snuggle into a safe, sacred space to allow the words to change us. Heal us. For as long as I can remember I used words to communicate, not just with others, but with myself. As a child, when I was in trouble, I would go to my room and write a letter to my Mama. I always seemed to be able to communicate what I was feeling, while being much more rational, through words. After I finished the letter, I would place it somewhere she was guaranteed to find it, go back to my room, and wait. Without fail, the letter would calm the frustration, and then we could talk. Same was true for any relationship I faced. In times of tension, I wrote to that person. This letter writing sparked something in me at a young age, the love of words. My mind always seemed to be in a thousand different places. I could organize each thought and feeling when I wrote in a journal. Years ago, I ended up throwing away many of my old journals. Some moments in them I did not desire to relive. The words on the pages helped me process and heal, so that was enough. But, as I sorted through them, I realized how long-ago God placed this passion and gift inside of me, WAAAYYY before I knew Him, but he always knew me. He always knew what He would do with this love of writing, even though I am still not sure. Keeping a journal has always been a part of who I am. SEVERAL months ago, I began to feel a tug from God to share some of what I write. (I emphasize several, because I feel that it is important to know that I often try to hide from what God is telling me. Clearly, I cannot hide from God, but when He asks me to do things and I do not feel as though I measure up for the task, I pretend not to hear Him. I know, that is not ideal, but that is truth. I pray to be more obedient the first time I hear His voice. Baby steps.) There are always words welling up inside me as I encounter others and world in my daily routine. Sometimes, I pull out my purse journal and get the words down. Other times, I type a quick note on my phone. However, most often, the words come when I am trying to fall asleep. It is when I am the quietest before the Lord. I love the moments before falling asleep, it is when I feel the most held by God. It is just Him and me. Sometimes I sing worship songs until I drift off, other times I pray and recite the scriptures I can remember without the help of Google. But, sometimes I lie there in the silence and wait to see what He will stir up in my spirit. It is always words, and on these nights, I end up typing random thoughts into my phone until I feel my spirit settle. I have note after note in my phone of nighttime ramblings that rarely equate to anything I would like to put out there for all to see. That is just it. It is NOT about me and what makes me comfortable. While I am so grateful for my relationship with God and these moments of feeling the Holy Spirit move in my thoughts and hearing his voice, I realize these moments are not just for me. He created us all to share His love with others and not just when we feel like it. I love to read, and I am always fascinated with how God moves through the authors to deliver the words I need to receive. But, what if all those authors or pastors or songwriters, kept the words God placed in their spirit to themselves? All these people are living a life, “so that”. God gave these words, SO THAT, the simple girl in Alabama could experience peace and healing. God gave these words, SO THAT, a room full of believers could lift their voices in worship to God. Even still, the enemy tries to tell me sharing God’s word is for those people. Those who seem to have it all together. Those who do not have a past as dark as mine. Those who seem to listen to His voice the first time. Those who seem to always radiate joy. I am not enough. I have a love/hate relationship with social media. I love some of the posts and being able to share with others. Yet, I hate the comparison trap it inevitably is. I hate the way it can sometimes make me feel. If I am being transparent, the thought of posting makes me anxious. We are human, and whether we like it or not we are designed with a need for acceptance, attention, and affirmation. We compare our twelve likes to our neighbors two-hundred and twelve, and suddenly, we do not measure up. It is a vicious cycle, and we all fall victim to that feeling from time to time. So, when I felt God leading me to share some words through a blog, I instantly laughed at Him (Remember how that turned out for Sarah. No? Genesis 18:1-15. It is never a good move to laugh at God. He always has the last laugh. Promise. Genesis 21: 1-6). Although it felt like an honor to have God ask me to share the words He places on my heart, I felt completely unworthy. But God, nobody looks at my posts now. In fact, I am pretty sure they roll their eyes if they see my name. “Great, another long God post.” Scroll up. I decided that since I felt this way, it must be true. (Feelings, ugh.) So, I ignored Him. Ignoring him lead to many restless nights and long days. I poured myself into books, as I read each one I heard the whisper, Write. Share. Trust Me. Whenever I experience moments like this I think about the scenes from Evan Almighty. He knows what God is telling him, but he does not want to do it. He tries to ignore and outsmart God. Maybe God will forget and leave him alone. Yeah, right. Eventually he ends up driving down the road with snakes and spiders in his car (I picture God making a fist then spreading it wide while saying, BOOM. Ignore me again. I’ve got a whole arsenal of creepy crawlers at my service). Whoa. The more I continued to read and pray, the more my heart began to soften to what God was telling me. Instead of ignoring God, I began to pray, Okay, God. But, when? And that, that was the beginning of the toughest season I have ever walked through. I will share more of that later. The whispers to Write. Share. Trust Me., faded into the noise that surrounded my life and my heart. After coming out of the thick of that season, I heard a different whisper. Now. It is time to share. Write. Trust Me. Huh? This time I did not ignore God. I flat out told him, NO. Are you serious? That season was not a happy one people want to hear. That will definitely be overlooked. People like happy and “Perfect”. They do not respond to mess and real. They ignore it. I cannot and will not share this. Nobody cares, and it is personal. No. Sorry, God. But, NO, I will not do it. And, I left it at that. The truth is, God is the author of my story. Honestly, the story is not even mine. It is His. Who am I to tell him how to use it or share it? So, I began to ask God a simple question. Why? While it is a one-word question, it can be a loaded question, as my human brain does not and cannot comprehend God’s understanding or perspective (Isaiah 55:8-9). But, when I am bold enough to ask God the hard questions (he can handle it), He never fails to lead me to his answer (Psalm 119:130). God’s response to me was simple, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, SO THAT we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4). His answer to me, Live So That. Tell people about Me. Let me use you. Your experiences were not a waste. The broken pieces are my favorite part of you. It is those broken pieces I use for my glory and to create my Masterpiece. I walk with you through the dark days, SO THAT you can show others who I am. Share of My grace. He has been the author of my story from the beginning (Psalm 139:13-16), including each moment of my B.C. days (before Christ) when I was not even aware of His presence. My life and the circumstances I face, all exist for one reason, His glory. My life is a tool. My love for writing is a gift. He has already written every one of my days, I am just living them out and writing it all down. Letting go of the social media insecurities is tricky. But, here is the truth, if I am obedient to share the words God gives me, God will use it the way it was always intended, for His glory, not my likes. I pray that if you choose to take this blog journey with me, that you do not see me at all. Yes, I physically sit at my computer and type these words. However, I promise you that is the end of my contributions. My prayer is that you encounter God in a fresh new way. I pray that the words God uses to speak to me will be used for Him to speak to you. |
Hi! I'm Morgan.Follower of Christ. Grace dependent. Wife. Mama. Homebody. Archives
July 2020
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