Jul 282016
 

“I wanna play outside the grave but Satan’s shackles keep me enslaved”

I feel like a child hidden in the shadows and my eyes strain through the darkness to get a glimpse of the light. My heart races faster and faster still and up my spine climbs a goose bump filled chill.

My eyes see darkness, my mind remembers that all shadows are cast by the light, the Light -ever present, all knowing. Seeing everything and brightening a path for each of us lambs to follow. Shepherded by the crook of His staff that never guides wrong.

I am the lone sheep hidden and lost in the woods and I know the heard is safe and He will come for me and His hook will gently press on me and bring me back to the path out of darkness and towards Him.


When I need rest my eyes will close and the lapping sound of waves will wash over me keeping me safe. When I need to wander He will watch. When I fall He will lift me up. When I thirst He will quench it. When I am no longer hidden, He will shine out of me, through me, and everyone will see.

The moment I prayed for salvation I was pulled out of the grave, the shackles fell and I was no longer enslaved. I am not hidden anymore.

Jun 252016
 

Tears are the pain my soul displays when it has nowhere else to go

Pain are the words my soul speaks, the black shroud that makes the dimmest of stars blindingly bright

I’ve needed a rest from words lately. A lot of rest. I don’t know why, maybe because I was diving deep in search of words for so much of the winter and spring.

It is exhausting to go into yourself, into the darkened depths where you have everything chaotically stashed away in mounds that would give a librarian a heart attack. Much like the wall of post-it notes that only an author can decipher and turn into a grand story.

Only life isn’t a post-it and no matter how big they decide to make those sticky sheets it won’t all fit and the darkness will creep over like fog over a marsh when the mercury rises, blanketing over the muck with a reflective dew that disappears with the rising sun and somewhere along the broken road you place your hand in the palm of the Son who has risen and you simply rest.


And yet here I am with the thunder booming in the background and the lightening flashing down on a blackened earth and my fingers are tapping away the thoughts that linger in my head and fear greets me in places I had forgot existed and I wonder who I really am?

Am I the child that hopped from rock to rock over snail infested ponds to find a place to sit and soak up the sun, the child who looked at metal barrels laying in the water 20 years ago and wondered why someone would do that to the earth?

Am I the adult who see’s a saltwater tank and grieves the loss of corals and anemones and secretly blames Finding Nemo for the tang’s and clown fish being stolen from our oceans just to beautify someone’s home?

Am I the girl who prays for the whales and the dolphins and has considered jumping ship just to land in the Antarctic whale sanctuary to protest, protect and fight for the whales whose song often falls on the ears of poachers?

Am I the 16-year-old girl who found herself pregnant and madly in love with a child growing within or am I the mother of that child whose smile is enough to light up any room and whose tears threaten to drown me because her pain are the nails through my hands and feet, the spear in my side. The pain a parent must bare in a twisted way so that their child can be fully alive?

Is that how my parents felt? Is that what Jesus told Himself as He felt the weight of His flesh tearing him apart, the sweat stinging into deepened wounds as the sins of the world separated the darkness and the light causing Him to cry out to God, “Father, why have You forsaken me?” before the sky turned angry and His flesh became Spirit?

And then there is my son, the child who nearly drowned drinking water because his laughter got the best of him and the water rushed into his lungs and sent those watching into a near panic and as he told the story he tells me “I wondered if Darin knew the Heimlich, when he pushed on my belly I knew he didn’t.” And I wonder why I worry more about the girl then I do my boy. Is that how it’s meant to be? That the boys can brave this broken world in a brotherly solidarity where the desire to protect outweighs their fear?



A world where your lungs fill with water and moments later you are playing football in the grass with a fire burning down in the background and your laughter and the sounds of your mother and your sister chatting are what fills your world because the moment you drowned you were also resurrected with a lesson learned?

Did my child really have me in stitches on the clouded, stormy ride home and did we almost hit that blur of a deer that for all I know could have been a golden shrub? Did he really just tell me that 50,000 of my cells die every day and that over the course of 7 years every cell in my body passes and has been replaced with one that is new and fresh? Did he just tell me that a sunburn hurts because the cells are protecting us from cancer and committing suicide so they don’t mutate?

How did you become so wise young children? Where did you learn these things and when? Why is it that I see so much of myself in your love for everything and then sometimes I look at you and don’t see me at all?


I am proud of you, both of you. Because you aren’t me and because you are pieces of me that I never allowed to develop and grow. You take big leaps and tiny steps and go where the wind blows, color outside of the lines and walk against the grain all at the same time. You are far more brave than I ever was or ever will be and I am so happy that you aren’t me. That you walk your own paths.

I love that you embrace conflict and hurt and pain because as the saying goes “no pain no gain” and I want you to gain. I want to see you suffer because that leads to growth. I want you to fear because that leads you to cling to the One who alleviates the need. I want you to love fully and be passionate and chase your calling, whatever it may be, whether it’s the Antarctic whale sanctuary where you take on the poachers of the world, or into a mission field learning a new culture and language and sharing your own journey with the world in the name of the One who saves you each and every day. Maybe your dream is to be a mom or a dad and never leave this small town and you want to plant your roots down deep and firm.

Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be in the cheering section while simultaneously handing you to God, because while this may be your journey, He is the one who holds the map.

Apr 282016
 

The sky seemed to be another evening boring grey and then just as I was about to write, as my Word document sprang to life the passing of the sun caught my window and shone streaks of orange across the wall. I grabbed my camera because I don’t have a phone and I ran to the window, to look at the magic of the sky. Hues of pink and blue and purples, and yes orange, danced perfectly painted. I couldn’t pass them up. I have said it before and I say it now, it’s like God painted the sky just for me.


In a lot of ways He did! No one else has the view from my window. Theirs all show a similar sky from a different perspective. They don’t get the shadows of the truck or the tractor or the trees and while the angle is all too familiar from sunsets and sunrises over the years, they are never the same.


All those colors like the sky is in itself a rainbow. A promise of better things to come and I pull the blanket a little bit tighter as my eyes feel a little bit more solemn and I shoot a prayer up into those heavenly lines knowing that they can’t escape the rainbow, a direct line to God Himself.

In only a few seconds I have prayed for my best friend who has been missing a year, I pray for Andrew, I pray for the money I don’t have and for broken hearts to mend and friendships to restore. I pray that I can feel a bit more lively tomorrow and get my Bible study finished with eagerness instead of weariness.


I crawled onto the bed and my knees cry out that they are sore, but my heart it is the gaping door to my soul that is vulnerable. Ready to be wounded, ready for whatever is in store.

In life we only have a set amount of sunsets before we exit into Heaven and while I don’t know the number, He does, and it is He who I need. I can chose the achy knees to witness His art or I can pass up the bounty He places in front of me and become a victim of myself.

Mar 252016
 

As some of you may know I have been having serious financial issues, like feed my kids or pay the bills. I have never been in this position before and I am honestly humbled by it and I am definitely getting more creative with shopping and making things go further.

Earlier this month I saw the Maybelline Dream Velvet foundation in my local Walmart, and then I saw the price and knew that I couldn’t afford the 12 dollars and still be able to pay for my medications and feed the kids. Kids eat a LOT for some reason.

Since my Walmart doesn’t have testers I wasn’t even sure what color would match me to ask for it for a birthday or risk the splurge. After moping (literally, I was sad) about the financial situation and not being able to treat myself to something that makes me feel beautiful and feminine I reached out to Maybelline Canada and explained my situation and asked if they had a sample. They said yes and asked me what color I was, I explained that I wasn’t sure what shade I would be and said that I am a neutral fair. They said that was great and that my sample was on it’s way.

I was honestly only expecting a couple of those tear out samples you get from magazines but instead I got a package from them and I literally cried when I opened it because this company who clearly doesn’t need to advertise to sell their products was beyond generous to me and gave me so much. If you follow me on Instagram you would have seen a photo I took the other day while playing with some of these products!

Maybelline Dream Velvet Soft Matte Hydrating Foundation in 10 Porcelain Ivory


Maybelline Master Conceal by FaceStudio Camouflaging Concealer in 10 Fair


Maybelline Great Lash Mascara in 101 Very Black

Maybelline Colorblur by LipStudio Cream Matte Pencil and Smudger in 50 I Like to Mauve It


Maybelline Baby Lips Moisturizing Lip Gloss in 15 Fuchsia Flicker


Maybelline BrowDrama Pro Palette in 250 Blonde


Maybelline Color Molten by Eye Studio in 304 Sapphire Mist

Maybelline Master Hi-Light by FaceStudio Hi-Lighting Blush in 30 Coral

I am beyond grateful and beyond words for how excited I am that a company would go out of their way like this to help out a struggling mama, helping a mama to feel beautiful and uplifted! It really amazed me to find out there are still companies in the world who care about the individual. I am so excited to put together looks and try out these products. It has been well over a year since I have been able to purchase anything for myself and I am so happy that Maybelline Canada decided to bless me in such a way! Even my 11 year old boy was excited for me and was amazed that a company would just send me so many things!!

Thank you Maybelline!! You really knocked this out of the park. I have used most of the products so far and they all worked perfectly and without causing any irritation to my sensitive skin!

Mar 032016
 

Tonight I literally got side tracked more than I did party with the FMFParty people. I got dishes done, counters cleaned off, dishes done again, hair braided, dogs fed and put to bed, joked with my dd and reminded my ds to take his meds. AND I even managed to get in a tweet or two. I missed the news though about Kate so I will have to go back and read what is going on! Whatever it is I am sure it is awesome, because we always celebrate the awesome ways God is moving in our lives, our little community is beyond great that way. Sharing the news of Christ, even if we are experience a time of sadness or loss, is still worth sharing of His abundance of love for each and every one of us.

I am sure I could list 1000 gifts right here and now about all the gifts we have experienced in our FMF Family. From books to babies, boyfriends, new jobs, old jobs, ministry. Yeah we are definitely a blessed bunch, all in the name of Christ. All because of the news that day when the stone was found rolled away and the body of Christ was not there.

Was that the moment that Christianity began? Or was it during His time of ministry as He roamed the land? Perhaps it was when He hung on the cross struggling for breath and those who put Him there realized what they had done.

In the “news” we are seeing everything about the election and it breaks my heart as a Canadian to be seeing the sad injustices of whats going on in the states. The amount of fear and hate. Fearing others because they aren’t Christian enough, they have different beliefs, the “wrong color skin”. It breaks my heart that the leader of the free world may be the one who causes the most persecution, fear and hate.

I have had about 45 people ask me if they could come and stay here if a certain person is elected president. American refugees. I never thought that that would be a question, or that it would even be a joke, yet it is trending, and I am being asked. Thinking to myself, sure I have so many acres but where will everyone sleep, how will we care for them, will their government even let them out?

We are definitely in a world of chaos and uncertainty, but God is always certain and we have to trust that whatever comes on the earthly plain has already been rectified in His holy name. Because, by His stripes we (the world) are already healed.

Feb 112016
 

My goosebumps had stood tall so long that my skin felt as if it was covered in a million needles and the thought of air brushing over was enough to cause me pain. My fever was at 102.9 and Tylenol and Advil combined weren’t making it budge. Room temperature water felt like swallowing rocks that just wouldn’t stay down. I was in agony and for a few hours I wasn’t sure I was going to survive. I laid in my bed shivering cold with beads of sweat soaking my brow and matting my hair and my lips were moving on their own speaking to the One who created me. The One who had bore my sins on the cross and had already healed me.

By your stripes I am already healed…” rolled from my tongue between body aches and for the first time in a long time I was excited. Excited to be able to fight the flu with scriptural truth without needing to pull out a Bible or an app or a search engine. The Word just flowed from my tongue and prayer was spoken to God without second thought and I was amazed.

Amazed that how I was in such a limited place physically, barely strong enough to stand, while the Word of the Lord came out of my mouth as though it had been there forever. Maybe it had been. After all, He created me. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” As part of His creation and His divine plan maybe His Word has been planted deep in me since the beginning and it just takes a little bit (okay a lot) of practice to get it to overcome the often easier sins that the world has to offer.

I never prayed like this before. I never knew that I knew as much as I did, and yet there it was and here I am less than 48 hours out with a sore throat and a fever that left hours after the prayers began. Atheists call it science. I call it God. Whatever the case, I learned that my knowledge of the Word isn’t limited by what I think I know or what I willingly acknowledge that I know. I learned that my knowledge has no bounds and that speaking to God without thinking about it was an awesome experience that I can only pray that others will get to share.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.
~John 10:10~

Jan 212016
 

I had everything pulled off the counter and was wiping the far-to-reach corners of the backsplash while standing on a stood (short person problems) while she sat and talked to me from the table. I had planned to start dinner and then go sit down and hang out on the internet. Maybe watch some YouTube videos or scroll through social media, but instead I grabbed a rag and had started to scrub and before too long the counter was clean and even the crumb trays on the toaster had been wiped to a shimmering shine.

She talked and I talked back. We talked about school, how she finished her homework in her gym class because she can’t participate because of her knees, we talked about boys and “ships” and girls and their “ships” and all of that stuff. She showed me a few videos of what she found fun today and talked about her best friend not using his phone today while on the school bus so he could actually talk to him.

Yeah, I was present. I was present for the moments that make memories. I don’t want to be remembered for napping all the time and for being on my computer when I am conscious. I want to be present. I want to be the one that the kids talk to while dinner is being prepared. I want to help with their homework and learn about their interests.

It fascinates me that social media has given us this amazing gateway to be connected and yet we are excruciatingly disconnected from the ones that mean the most. I am not one who has their phone in their hand or beside them at all times. I don’t even have a phone. But, that’s not the point. I have spent so much time being depressed and hiding out, hiding behind the screen and fostering relationships with people I will likely never meet that I am guilty of neglecting the ones who sit right in front of me.

And while Jesus was The Gift, the ultimate Present. It was his presence that gave us redeeming grace. What would Jesus do? He would sit in the kitchen and talk over chores or leave the chores to wait. He wouldn’t say the internet is bad, but he would likely say real life is better.

Blessed be the name of the Lord!

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