winning hearts

This morning, when I went to go pick up one of my former students and his brothers for church, a cousin was in the living room and one of the boys asked if he could come with us. I said he could, of course, and we rushed out the door.

I mean it when I said we rushed. I was running late this morning and when I got to their house nobody was up and ready to go. On the way to church I found out this cousin was FOURTEEN (I do not have any idea what to do with teenagers- and he looked like he was about ten so it caught me even more off guard) so I kind of felt like the pressure was ON to make sure he was comfortable and had fun.

Teenagers really get it. This one experience at church could be his very first and it could potentially change his entire life.

By the time we showed up to church and dropped the littlest brother off, the service was definitely going. Everyone was standing, the seats looked almost completely full, and the only chairs I could see were in the very front row. I can't handle the standing and looking around for seats- especially for three of us- so I just went and sat in the front row. (Inside I was hating this so much. The front row is just SO close.)

So we sat. I didn't know what the cousin was going to think but my other little guy is always sleeping within the first 10 minutes so surely we couldn't be much of a distraction. It was the middle of worship and it was LOUD- and they were LOUDER. They talked- and talked- and talked. During songs, during prayer- no matter how many times I tried to "shh!" them or tell them to whisper. They were talking about silly putty and about their family and about ninja turtles- so much talking. After I would "shh!" them, they would get quiet for about a minute and then within a few minutes I was shushing them again.

(Side note: I grew up in churches where you DID NOT break rules. You came in quietly, sat down quietly, stood up at the right time, sang the songs nicely, sat down and listened quietly, and then left quietly. You just didn't break the rules. If you did, it wouldn't be out of place for someone to say something to you.)

I noticed that there were some older people behind us-- about the age of the boys' grandparents-- and I started to get nervous. What were they thinking? They're probably so annoyed. They hate that we're sitting in front of them. I bet they can't even focus. They're probably going to say something to the boys. Will the boys be scared to come back to church when they do say something? What will they think? All of these thoughts were swarming through my head while I tried to listen and keep them quiet and entertained.

I continued to try my best to keep them quiet while inwardly awaiting the inevitable disappointment from the group behind us.

As we gathered our things to leave, the older gentleman sitting directly behind the boys began talking to them. "Boys, just want you to know that I was so impressed by you this morning. I'm just so glad you're here. I can tell just by looking at ya that you're both men of God. Did you know that you make Him so proud? You do. He is so thankful that you came to worship Him this morning and so am I.."

Can I even rightly tell you what this did to my heart? Their faces. They walked differently, stood up straighter, had a real, genuine smile. The cousin pranced into his youth class without even knowing a soul- couldn't have been happier to be there.

Today Beltway North won those boys' hearts. They left feeling seen, noticed, important, and loved. There is nothing else that I could've dreamed for them.

I know reverence in a church setting is important. I know. But to an eight year old and a fourteen year old who have no experience in church at all, love speaks louder. Kindness encourages and empowers and gentleness brings joy and peace. They will not walk into church next week (or hopefully ever) concerned about performing a certain way or acting perfectly because they're at church. They'll walk in feeling loved, known, and important.

That kind man won some hearts today- mine included.

(This pic is from a few weeks ago because there was obviously no sleeping today.. hah!)

grace upon grace upon grace.

so today was one of the more challenging days of teaching. i was seriously struggling to keep my kids with me, obeying me, and engaged all day long. i felt like i was begging for them to obey and pay attention. not a good place to be.


then, towards the end of the day, it all went down. i was standing in the hallway, checking on one of my kids in the restroom, and i stepped back in to find one of my kids pushing another kid up against the cabinets with his hands on his chest (like the bully, gimme your lunch money kinda thing). annnnnnnd i flipped.

i don't know that i've ever felt that intense of a reaction to anything in my entire life. i grabbed him and pulled him into the hallway and was letting him have it. it was one of those, i'm kind of going crazy and i don't even know what's coming out of my mouth anymore but i'm still yelling and oh my gosh Jesus help me kind of moments. he (buzz) was crying and i sent him back in to apologize and make it right with the boy he had up against the cabinet (kevin) i just made up those names so i won't sell them out. also because i've been watching a lot of home alone.

buzz told me the reason he was doing it was because kevin took his money (a quarter and a dime) and put it in his mouth, trying to make sure i didn't notice he had stolen his money. that made me even more mad... at both of them. so i called kevin into the hall and gave him the same talk. the same i'm kind of going crazy and i don't even know what's coming out of my mouth anymore but i'm still yelling and oh my gosh Jesus help me talk. then i made him go back in and apologize.

they were both obviously sad, scared, and seemingly repentant, but i thought it was only because they had been caught.

about 15 minutes later, they went to pe and music.... the easiest part of my day. when everyone was gone, and my adrenaline began to sloooooowly decrease, i started asking the Lord what that was earlier. i have zero tolerance for any kind of bullying but my reaction was extreme and not loving or helpful discipline at all. i felt like the Lord said "just apologize to them." so i resolved that would be the first thing i'd do after picking them up from the gym even though i didn't feel like that was enough.

it was freezing outside, so i was a little rushed getting them all inside. but kevin grabbed my coat as he was walking in and said "miss may.... miss may...." with the sweetest little voice and big, glassy, tearful eyes. i turned and he looked me right in the eyes and said, "i'm really just so sorry for what i did earlier."

my heart melted. i got beat to the repentance by a seven year old. i apologized for overreacting and asked for his forgiveness, which he graciously gave.

i went and grabbed buzz, apologized, and asked for his forgiveness also. he was fine, and i thought it was all over.

a few minutes later, right before we headed out the door, kevin was standing near me at my desk. buzz came over, gave kevin the quarter and the dime and said "hey... something in my heart made me want to give you this money... so here."

he went and gave his money to the kid who had stolen it and tried to hide it just an hour before.


guys....... grace. grace. grace. grace. this is what it looks like. i watched a seven year old pull it off better than i ever have today. more than just forgiveness... beyond what you deserve.

Marvelous, infinite, matchless grace,

Freely bestowed on all who believe!

You that are longing to see His face,

Will you this moment His grace receive?

pappadeaux

this blog has been rather serious lately. it's time for a really embarrassing, but hilarious story for no reason at all. this has no real purpose, except for embarrassing me. so you're welcome. very much.


i loved high school. like loved high school.

i really thought there could never be anything better. i was on the drill team (the dance one.. not the flags- just to clarify for everyone who is judging me). pretended to know everyone on the football team like they were my bff. loved my friends. loved getting lots of monies from social security. but seriously- i loved high school.

and part of loving high school involves school dances and functions.

homecoming at allen high school was equally as important as prom. and even more important for me because of drill team and my fake football friends. you had to have an up-do, a long dress, mums, garters, corsages, limos- the whole nine yards. but most of all you had to have a date.

all of my guy friends in high school were guys from church. and they hated stuff like this. they were anti-high school, anti-school spirit, anti-conforming to the world... so annoying. so i knew none of them would even consider going. my friend, shawn, had graduated the year before me and i knew would absolutely hate going to homecoming with me, but i might be able to convince him to go. it would be the most fun to go with him. i asked if he would consider- he agreed- begrudgingly. it was a thousand pound weight off my shoulders. i refused to be that girl that just went to dances with her girl friends- and besides- they had already taken our few guy friends that we did have- so i wasn't about to go alone. ptl for shawn.

except for shawn went to florida. for a semester.

i was so desperate that i honestly tried to get him to come back for my homecoming dance. ridiculous.

but i literally didn't have any other options.

until one day, i was sitting at a high school soccer game. i was with a group of girls and all the sudden a boy walks up. i knew him. stuart. from elementary school. we went to the same school for one year in fifth grade. i knew he remembered me. i remembered him.

and he said "does anyone here need a date to homecoming?"

my hand shot up in the air. yes, i raised my hand. i still can't believe i did that.

he said "oh great! natalie! this is going to be so fun!" we traded numbers and were good to go. even though the second he walked away all of my friends were dying laughing that i raised my hand to show my true desperation.

i made him a garter, he made me a mum. he was on the football team so i decorated his football locker. i knew it was weird we were going together because i totally wasn't interested in dating him and i didn't even really know him- but that didn't matter much. i was going to make it fun.



on the night of homecoming, we all met at my friend lauren's house. stuart and i got in his truck and were headed to the park to take pictures with our group. i had my camera in my lap. my camera had been in my drill team bag where shavings from my eyeliner had spilled. and little did i know, my camera was covered in black eyeliner. and it was in my lap. my dress was bright orange silk. sooooooo i was covered in little black lines. all over my "middle section."

all of the moms freaked out when i got to the park and were chasing me down with tide-to-go pens. and stuart just stood there and watched. poor guy.

that catastrophe was conquered. then we moved on to the next.



the worst.

we were in the car.. making terribly awkward small talk about our past experiences... going to elementary school together... when he said it.

he said "yeah! i remember you and your mom and little sister walking to school every morning- that was fun!"

but there was a small problem with that. i had never once, in my life, walked to school. and i didn't have a little sister.

i realized that, yes... stuart thought i was someone that i was not.

how fun.

i figured out that he was talking about a school he went to before we went to school together. great. he thinks i am someone else.

i had a choice. either own it, tell him the truth, and just sit in the horrible awkwardness for the rest of the evening, or play it cool like i was actually the girl who walked to school with her mom and little sister.

and then it hit me. he was talking about my friend natalie- who was waiting for us at dinner!

i had to own it- because surely he would put it together when we got to pappadeaux.

so i did it. i told him the truth. i just said slowly and awkwardly, "ummmm i don't think i am who you think i am...."

and of course he crumbled. he totally thought i was natalie- my friend who he went to elementary school with before me. and we were about to see that natalie at dinner. he apologized. it was terribly weird. and i ran to the bathroom and died laughing with my friend natalie once we got to dinner. absolutely ridiculous.

so you can just imagine- i handled it really well. i laughed, literally the rest of the night- and avoided him at absolutely all costs. i even hid from him at the dance. really mature. the most shining moment of my life.

so girls, next time- know who you're going out with. because you don't ever want someone to ruin your favorite restaurant for life.

i will never, ever, ever be able to think of pappadeaux the same way again.

right here, right now.

i've never been the type to easily be discontented.

i'm normally really happy, content, and thankful for the season i'm walking through in life.

but lately, not so much.


i keep finding myself in these places where i'm mixing discontentment and knowing there's more to where i'm at in life. it's clouding my vision. i know there's always more for me and my life- i know it and believe it. but i have been having to remind myself daily what it means to trust Jesus with the day to day.

what does it mean? what does it mean to be discontented- but in a holy, healthy way- believing God's promises and not settling until you have them- yet still maintaining a thankful, pure, and steadfast heart?

i believe that part of my destiny in the Kingdom of God is to hold fast to His promises to me- until the very end of everything i have or can muster up- and watch the Father come through miraculously for me. it has happened in my life time and time again.



money in college was really hard for me. i would go back and forth seeing God provide miraculously to a totally empty bank account again and again. don't get me wrong- i was a struggling steward.. not handling it in the most responsible way. i still tried. when i was totally on 'e' i would call my aunt and ask her to transfer some money to my account- this was borderline devastating to me every time because i knew this money was coming from money put back when i was in high school for my wedding. so each time i would call, i would just watch- and feel- the pain of feeling like i wasn't covered or protected. it was really painful.

i still hurt for myself on those days sometimes. it's not fair that i had a present need but had to watch my future dreams fade away. but it was life.

and then one day, my little wedding fund was gone.

it broke my heart. but i had to trust. He's bigger. stronger.

then rent time came again. i needed $300 to pay my rent. it was about two days until our rent was due and i was sad. it's the only real way to describe it. i felt like i had literally exhausted every option- yet made no progress. i cried out to Jesus sitting in my car- outside of our school's student union building- begging for something... anything....

'don't you see? do you remember me? am i ever going to get to a place where i don't have to do this?'

He said nothing.. nothing.

i walked inside to meet a friend for lunch, pulled myself together, and walked to my school mailbox. i had to check before we could leave.

inside my mailbox was a check for almost two thousand dollars.

yes, two thousand dollars.

it was from some land i inherited (that i had no idea about) from my dad- they wanted to dig for oil on it and were offering two thousand dollars for me to sign an oil lease.

i just sobbed. i couldn't believe He would extravagantly meet my needs like this. who is this God that sees me and goes above and beyond my needs?

i wrote my rent check confidently that day. He's the one who provides, and restores.



on days like today, where i am wondering if He'll ever pull through- or fulfill His promises to me- i remember His faithfulness to me. it's a theme He's been proving again and again to me- if i can just hang on to His promises- cling to my faith- believe Him just one more time- He'll show up. He always has- and always will.

so today in the midst of my discontented heart- i'll remember that a discontented heart is bait for me to cling to Him, hold a little tighter, and trust a little more. discontentment isn't always bad. sometimes it's holy. if it can lead me to the Savior of the world to ask for vision, clarity, wisdom, and provision- then that's what i want and that's where i'll go every time.

every time, right here, right now.. that's where i'll go.

my little house where i paid that rent :)

limits.

round two. twenty two brand new little babies. they're a hand-full to say the very least. they're silly, they're funny, they're loud, they're out of control, they're all totally unique. they need me. they love me. they trust me. they respect me. and i love them. deeply, truly- i love them.

i loved my class last year. they were perfect for me. i had the perfect mix of everything. i have missed them desperately this year. my heart doesn't naturally understand how to love someone so much- and then hand them over into someone else's hands. my heart still aches a little at the thought of their faces. Jesus has got them- i just wish i had them too.


i never knew it was possible to love someone so much. 


and that's when it happens.


i've been learning- experientially- what it means to trust Jesus with your limits.


it's like every time i get to a place where i feel that i've maxed out- on love, on time, on patience, on forgiveness, on resources- He just whispers for me to go a little deeper. just a little deeper.

He doesn't do limits. there aren't limits on His love for me, His patience for me, His time for me, His forgiveness for me, His resources toward me- there is no limit.

He just keeps pushing me. just when i think i have nothing left- i go a little further. when i feel like i can't forgive again- He asks and expects me to. and it's there is life there. fruit, joy, the presence of God- it waits when we hold on at our limits. He is faithful to meet us at the end of our limit- and He promises blessing and provision when we cling to His faithfulness. You brought me here, oh God- you can push my limit further back.

my prayer is that He just keeps pushing. He just keeps pushing until i look just like Jesus- the Man who never had too much of anything. He always knew just what the Father was doing- and even if it looked like He was at the very end- He just kept going and He just kept trusting.

so today i'll wait. at my end, i'll wait more.
and today i'll forgive. and at my end, i'll forgive more.
and today i'll trust. and at my end, i'll trust even more.

i love my class this year more than i ever knew i could. my capacity has only expanded. and even though it's scary to think of the more Jesus has for me, i'll keep going. it's my destiny- for the rest of my life to continuously give up my limits for the chance to know Him deeper. and i'll do it. i'll keep dying. i'll keep trusting. and i'll keep letting go.


because i just want to be where He is.

a day of deliverance.

i went to africa!

it was, without a doubt, one of the greatest highlights of my life. this time was so different. so real, so right, so natural. i felt like my feet hit the ground running- but running into life. i just lived my life. normal- stopping every hour for a fanta, laughing til i couldn't breathe, running errands, and eating a record amount of beans and rice. all the while we ministered, loved, discipled, had compassion, prayed, and just tried to do whatever we saw the Father doing.

i think we did a pretty good job.




one afternoon, my partner, sam, and i were walking around praying for people and eating lots of chapati. i remembered a woman, joyce, was around the corner and wanted to stop in and remind her i was for her. as i talked to joyce, sam stood outside of her shop.


as i left, we began walking and sam said "um.. i think they're kicking that guy over there..." naturally, we had to see what was going on. we had strict instructions from our team leaders to never initiate or join any sort of large group. there was definitely a large group forming so we stayed on the outskirts but tried to see what was going on inside the group. there were men coming from all around, dropping their bikes to come join, leaving their shops, stopping their lives to come and join in on the group. there was a boy, probably 16 or 17, in the middle and everyone was just taking blows at him. some were lifting his shirt and slapping his back, some kicking him in the stomach, using rope to whip his back, and stripping him of every ounce of dignity.

it was the most terrifying thing i have ever seen in my life.

i had this strange collision of so many emotions: deep compassion, anger, disgust, grief... yet i couldn't leave. there was something inside of me that couldn't just let this continue.

i made eye contact with sam again and realized we were feeling the same thing. there were a couple of men on bikes standing sort of far off like we are, and sam suggested we ask them what was going on. i stepped over and frantically asked for answers.

the man patiently responded "oh...... it is... because he is a thief..."

i remembered. last year, our missionary friends who live in gulu told us that theft is not usually a problem because the general public beats and harasses thieves to 'teach them a lesson.' it made me feel so safe last year when he said that. this time, it made me sick and angry.

i asked the men on the bikes about 100 questions about why this was necessary and why they couldn't take him to the police. i wasn't satisfied with any of the responses he was giving. as i was interrogating this man, a police woman walked by and many people tried to get her to come over. she raised her arm up in an "i'm too busy for this" sort of way.

i looked over at sam and desperately tried to come up with something, anything that we could do. i thought about going to the middle of the group and just pleading for his life. i knew i couldn't physically do anything- but maybe i would have favor because i'm white and i'm a girl. african men love those munu women. we sat in that idea for a second and i was really, really considering it. then sam said "you think maybe if we paid for what he stole they would just take him to the police?"

best idea yet. i asked the man on the bike and he said "they will charge you too much money!" at this point, with all the bleeding and shame, i was willing to give him everything i had. i told him it didn't matter and one of the men marched through the crowd.

he came out a few minutes later with the manager from the shop, who was holding a small wrapped fabric- something that looked like a table cloth. we asked how much and he said 30,000 shillings- which is equivalent to about $15.

it was confusing why that young boy would try and take this silly little tablecloth, and why it was such a huge debt to deserve such terrible punishment. the men on the bikes were so kind and did all of our negotiating and most of our conversations for us- such favor from God. we could've never done it on our own. we paid the manager and he walked away.

we continued to talk to the men on the bikes. they were so kind and helpful. before we knew it, the manager went to the middle of the mob, grabbed the theif, and brought him to us. i was shocked. brought him to us? i hadn't thought of a single thing to say.

he didn't speak any english- so the men on the bikes translated for us. he said he had a problem and he was not right in the mind because his father had recently died. i thought silently.. i understand, brother. i understand. i looked him in the eye, and all i could spit out was "Jesus!" before someone hit him across the face.

the mob never dissolved- it just transitioned to now around us. i immediately jumped back and told sam that it was definitely time to go. we started walking- more like running- back to the main street in town. my mind was racing with all the things that would happen to that man. we paid! why didn't the mob leave him alone?! didn't they see the justice? couldn't the police take it from here? would he know it was Jesus who set him free? were the people ever going to realize this isn't the answer? do the men on the bikes know Jesus?

my mind was racing.

so we prayed. we walked and we prayed. we prayed Jesus would meet that thief right where he was, in the midst of his grief, and show him His face. we prayed for the men in the mob- that they would know Jesus and He would show them true justice in their hearts. we prayed for the men on the bikes, that they would know the justice, kindness, and goodness in their own hearts comes from the only One who is Just, Kind, and Good. we asked God to help us meet them again so we could get them plugged in with some of our guys. we declared as we walked and finally made it to the main road. we found rebecca and erin, two of our friends, on the main road and asked them to pray for us- we were really shaken up! they did and i immediately felt better- ready to get back to ministry.

we started walking down the main road and a man grabbed my arm and said "i did it!" i jumped but realized that it was the man on the bike! he somehow managed to find us, a few miles away, just a short bit longer. an answered prayer. i was shocked and all i could say was "what?! what did you do?!"

he said, "i told the mob we were going to take the man to the police- but really i took him to the road to the village and i did it! i set him free! i told him not to steal again- but this time he has been set free!"

i was shocked! impossible. it was absolutely impossible. those men were so angry! there's no way. but my God made a way! i looked dennis- our new friend- deep into his eyes and just started proclaiming his identity over him. "did you know, dennis? did you know you carry the heart of God? did you know? did you know that you are a man of justice! a man of peace! a man of compassion! did you know? did you know you walk like Jesus?"

he just smiled. he didn't know Jesus- but he looked just like Him to me. we got their phone numbers and agreed to meet up and talk more about Jesus soon.



sam and i just walked away in utter shock. Jesus totally orchestrated every. single. bit. of that for the glory of His Name. everyone encountered Jesus- new and afresh. everyone saw Him. everyone felt Him. everyone was covered in prayer and seen in heaven. it was then sam read me her journal. that morning, the Lord took her to exodus 3- the story of the burning bush. a common story- she read and asked the Lord what He was saying. she simply heard "today will be a day of deliverance."



and oh, a day of deliverance it was.

inadequacy.

a few weeks ago i sat in a prayer meeting. on my knees, i begged for the Lord to move in all of my church's trips around the world. then it came to my own trip. they announced 'uganda' and people started praying. i tilted my head up to watch the people of God cry out for my trip and for the people i would be leading.

not two seconds after lifting my head, i heard the accusation of the enemy.

"you really think you can lead these people? you?!"

i knew it wasn't the Lord and immediately began asking questions of Him.

"Lord, why me? there are thousands of people You could've chosen and You chose me... why?!? Lord, i don't know what i'm doing. i can't lead people. i'm not worthy of following, Lord! i don't have what it takes. i need help. i don't know what to do!"

i sat in silence and let the cries of my heart resonate.

it was true. i don't really know all the answers. i don't always know what i'm doing.

so i asked Jesus to speak to me. and i heard a calm, confident voice say..

"do you know how to wash feet?"

"yes, Lord. i can wash feet."

and there it was. Jesus modeled it perfectly. He led with humility and with servanthood. He never tried to do anything that the Father wasn't doing and asking.

i can do that. i can hear the Lord. i can follow Him. i can obey. i can serve. i can go low. i can sacrifice. i can be a friend.

"yes, Lord. i can wash feet."


i felt inadequate to the core. because i am. i have nothing without Jesus. i can't lead, i can't wash feet, i can't pursue Him. but He makes me enough. Jesus died so that I could walk in my identity and my identity is a daughter of the Most High. a co-heir with Jesus.

Jesus died to put an end to inadequacy.

Jesus felt my inadequacy on the cross and it breaks His heart to think that i would choose it again. i will not let His blood be a waste. 

i will trust Him. i will abide in His promises and i will not waste the adequacy He died for. i will walk in the identity given to me by Jesus. He makes me enough for all that He has called me to. He gives me what i need and equips me for the battle.

"and God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work." 2 corinthians 9:8

the other days.

when i look over and reread the things i have written on this blog, it stirs my heart. i am so thankful for what the Lord has chosen to do in me and all of the incredible encounters i've had with His faithful love and extravagant grace.

He loves to encounter His children in ways that make them feel awe-struck. it is His heart that we would know Him, really know Him- and He has shown Himself to me on so many days- many mentioned here- that I'll never forget for the rest of my life. 

but there are so many days that are not like the days on this blog.

like the days when i totally lose my temper with my kids and i feel like i'm going to scream. or the days when my laundry is overwhelming me and making me want to cry. or when student loans are staring at me month after month and i have no idea what i'm doing. or when i'm having hard conversations with one friend after another- knowing that i'm being obedient to Christ. or when i've worked with that student on this issue twelve million times and see nothing change. or when i just don't feel it and would rather spend my time doing other things rather than worshiping Jesus. or when i am begging for breakthrough- month after month, and keep hearing the blessed 'wait.'

yeah, those days don't look like these incredible blog stories. but those days have been most days for me lately.

i want to say that makes me sad... but it really doesn't. i've met Jesus here. the steadfast, patient, sacrificing, understanding, and loving Jesus. i've met Him in this place day after day.

a couple of weeks ago, i woke up early one saturday morning and was driving out to a spot in the 'hills' of abilene to spend time with Jesus. i spent the first ten minutes literally crying out to the Lord about one thing after another that i felt He promised me and that i had yet to receive. i was making a verbal list and getting more and more frustrated with myself and with the Lord as each one of them came out of my mouth. "but Lord! You said! You promised! where are You?! i need to see that You're in this! come near! convince me! increase my faith!" all of them crying out with tears streaming down my face to see the Presence of God in all of my crap. and finally i took a breath. i let the weight of my words sit heavy on my heart and i waited. i waited for a response to the One who already knows.

and the kindest, most tender and calm voice said to me in my frustration...

"do you still believe that I'm good?"

it stopped me in my tracks. i wanted to scream back "yes, Lord! i would if...." but i couldn't. He wanted me to just sit in it for a while and wrap my brain around that question..

"do you still believe that I'm good?"

if i have learned anything in my life, it has been that my God is good. that He is for me and His heart is relentless toward me. i cannot, and will not escape the grasp of the One whose mighty right arm holds me.  He has protected me, shielded me, fought for me, parented me, disciplined me, encouraged me, trusted me, given to me, and loved me with an everlasting love.

and i answered back from the deepest part of my soul,

"yes, Lord. i believe. You have been nothing but good to me."

and i meant it. with more sincerity than ever before, i could declare His goodness to me. He has been good, He is good, and He will be good forever- not just in general- but to me. His eye is on me. on my circumstances, on my frustration, and on my faith. 

may we all receive grace upon grace to abide in the goodness of God for today.

in the miracles and in the waiting. He is good.

safe.

being safe has always been a reallllllly big deal to me. not physically safe. i really never bother with any of that stuff.. locking doors, avoiding going places alone.. dumb things. but emotionally and spiritually safe. i think it's because of the trauma. i felt safe for so long and then had to totally relearn what being safe even was.

i don't ever remember feeling unsafe growing up. my parents did a wonderful job always making me feel protected and secure. but after the accident, i didn't have that safety anymore. i had to learn to 'do it myself' and controlling situations and circumstances was my pseudo-safety.

it took me a really long time to realize this was sin.

i saw it as totally necessary. if i didn't do it myself or i didn't control the situation then i wasn't safe. but i just didn't know the sovereignty of God.. or trust it yet. i wasn't ready to let him fill the 'safety-giver's' shoes. i felt as if i'd been burned, and to prevent getting burned again, i had to control it all. as if i'm better at keeping myself safe than the God of the universe is. whoa. sometimes i still fall back into that pattern, but it's being redeemed day by day.

He is my safety. but by no means is a life following Jesus ever safe. i'm learning that. my soul is forever safe because my Leader never changes, never fails, and never wastes a thing. but there are times, as a follower, that i am totally out of control, waiting and expecting the Father to lead me, with no earthly idea where He might take me. learning and knowing the character of God has taught me to be at peace with the uncertainty of my circumstances. His character is safe but my life is not.

i see this reflected often in my kids' lives.

their lives are never safe. they live in terrible neighborhoods. they have no structure. they have no idea whose house they will be sleeping at tonight. they aren't sure where their mom has been for the past four nights. they can't remember the last time they saw their dad. mom was supposed to come for lunch, but probably just got busy. stepdad's temper is unpredictable and everyone conforms to his mood for the day.

i can't imagine.

i cry out to God that my kids will know Him. really know Him. and that the grossness of their circumstances would fade under the character and nature of God. i do my best to reflect it, but know i constantly fail and lack so much of the peace that only He can give.

i had the sweetest day a couple of weeks ago.

one of my sweet girls, asia, lost a necklace in pe that her mom gave her. she was hysterical when she came back from pe and noticed it was gone. i told her we could walk around the playground and go back to pe and music checking for it. we searched for a few minutes and then she had to go catch her daycare bus. i told her i would search for it for a little while longer. i remember that panicky feeling being a little kid thinking 'my mom's gonna killllllll me...' sweet girl.

well, she came back to my classroom a few minutes later telling me she missed the daycare bus. i had no idea what this meant for her, so i took her to the office to ask what to do. the secretary called the daycare and they told her they would be back in an hour to pick up the kids that were in tutoring. she asked me if i'd mind keeping asia with me until then. to be honest, at first, i was thinking 'for reallllllll? i have so much to do. i've been with kids all day long and i just need a minute to breathe.' and then i submitted to Jesus and realized that i never get to spend time with my kids one on one and that this could be really good.

as we were walking back to the classroom, i told her 'alright asia.. we're not doing any school stuff today. we're just going to have lots of fun- just the two of us.' i took her to the vending machines and she got a 7-up and a butterfinger. we went back to the classroom and i asked her what she wanted to do. i said 'we can do anything you want! watch a movie, play games, read books, puzzles, go to the playground.. whatever you want!' she chose making copies. so we went to the copy room and copied math tests. she loved it and you could tell that she felt like a million bucks. then we went back to the classroom and played trouble, operation, and we talked about her life. she felt treasured. i could see it all over her face.

when we were walking out the door on our way to go catch the daycare bus, she looked up at me and said 'miss may.... thank you...'  already i felt a warmth in my heart, and a tiny bit choked up. i said 'for what, sweetheart?' and she responded 'for always takin' care of me..'

that's when the tears welled up. it's a big deal for a second graders to ever communicate appreciation, much less with so much sincerity. it melted me. i got down on her level, looked her right in the eyes and said 'i will always take care of you, asia. even when you're not in my class. i will pray for you- and Jesus.. He will keep you safe..' she looked at me with such confidence and said 'i know' with a smile.

she walked in the next morning and looked at me with such joy. i remember that feeling. it's like you have a special connection that nobody else knows about- and it brings you both so much pride. she smiled the biggest grin and it was like we both just knew.

that's the kind of safety His character gives me. just enough to where we both just know. regardless of my circumstances, He is safe and i can find peace and rest in Him alone.

fruit in season

i teach kindergarten sunday school. most times when i tell people that they're like 'oh my gosh- you must be overdoing yourself with kids every day of the week..' or something to that effect. sometimes i think so too.

actually, most saturday nights i think that.

but it always changes on sunday mornings. it always ends up being an overwhelming blessing. i am meant to teach kids about Jesus. it's what i'm called to do. i love teaching my kids about math and reading and martin luther king jr. and weather. kind of. but mostly i love teaching kids about Jesus. i love seeing them understand His truth and walk in ridiculous amounts of faith. it changes me.

i need them more than they need me. i need them to show me how to trust and how to forgive and how to be vulnerable and how to see my God rightly.

i teach my kids with the same general truths each week. we go through worshipping God, offering ourselves to Him, hearing Him, discerning His voice and receiving His love and revelation of His heart. it sounds lofty, but we make it really simple. i feel like i give them practical circumstances to walk out all of these things in, but i rarely (aka... never really..) hear anything back from the kids or from their parents.

granted, i know they are five. but it's hard watching them walk in so much favor, grace, and truth in your classroom and then be unaware if they are understanding in the context of their little lives. i pray they understand. and sometimes it's hard to keep sowing without seeing fruit.

but, today.. today i saw it! i saw the fruit. it was incredible.

one little boy's sweet mom caught me as class was ending. she had such joy in her eyes. i knew she was about to share exactly what i needed to hear. she told me that the night before she was putting her boys to bed and a miracle happened!

we've been talking about miracles in kindergarten lately. we've talked about walking on the water, healing the blind, feeding thousands- you know.. the regulars. my kids are loving it! every week we talk about God's heart in miracles- the way He shows Himself to people who might not believe and how miracles draw people to Jesus' heart. today i asked, 'wait... so why does God do miracles?!' and one of my little boys answered 'because He always wants to give us what is best! He loves to do what is best for us!' i loved that. but last week we talked about the blind men who cried out to Jesus. how they so desperately wanted to see and when they would cry out, the crowds would tell them to be quiet and send them away. but they kept crying out and Jesus heard them. we talked about how the crowd didn't know Jesus' heart. we talked about how followers of Jesus have a responsibility to live like Jesus did. we talked about how we have the heart and the hands of Jesus.. how Jesus has given us everything we need to live like He did.

back to this morning. she told me that as they were praying before bedtime, they prayed for their dad who has had headaches and migraines. as they were finishing their prayer, elijah, my six year old kindergartener, said, 'mom... miss natalie taught us that i have the hands of Jesus. can i go put my hands on dad?'

and he did. and he prayed simply and Jesus simply healed him.

and then he was filled with joy- and he wanted more! so he went to his little brother who was sleeping in bed and put his hands on him and prayed something very simple but full of faith. 'Jesus.. i love him and so do You. please heal his cough. amen.'

and he went to bed that night with eyes full of wonder and a heart full of joy. he kept talking about how much fun it was to have Jesus' hands and how he wanted to pray for his great grandparents in colorado. he told his mom he would just reach out and pray that God would let his hand touch his grandparents.

i want faith like that. i want faith to know the truth- and for that truth to set me free to run into Jesus' arms. i want to know that when He tells me something that He means it- every time. i want that joy- that every time Jesus shows up, it catapults me into overflowing onto others.

it was everything i needed that day. it makes me wonder what it might be like to be a farmer. to work tirelessly day after day- yet staying faithful and confident in the waiting that a good crop will come. it's hard. it's hard to trust and remember when the days are long and the outcome is unpredictable.

but the fruit, the fruit is oh so good.