Asha

We met on an unremarkable night. Bible study had finished at Panera and we were driving back to hang out and talk at one of our houses. It was just another day. Rain was pouring down in fistfuls with the warmth of a mid-west spring as I drove the back roads.  As I turned a corner and rumbled over some train tracks in a seedy area of town, I noticed a woman bundled against the rain pushing a baby stroller. My heart stopped a beat, and I kept driving. Was she homeless? What is in the baby stroller? Her stuff? It couldn't be a child, could it?

My heart raced as I felt the old familiar tug of compassion and heard the Lord's voice, clear and gentle, in my mind, Go back. 

I turned my car around and wrestled through my thoughts. What if she wasn't there anymore? What if I scared her by stalking her with my car? Where could I even pull over?

I saw her on the left side of the road and looped around again. The poor woman had just seen my car pass her three times. I prayed she wouldn't be afraid as I parked my car directly in front of her line of sight. As I stepped out into the pouring rain, I walked towards her trying to communicate gentleness in my body language. 

"Do you need a ride?" I yelled towards her direction, as she was still some distance from the parking lot. She hurried faster towards me and that's when I saw the beautiful baby in the stroller. Warm dark skin, curls that could twine around your little finger, dimples like sunshine, and the most beautiful deep brown eyes peeked out from under the stroller. 

My sweet Asha

As they came closer, I realized the woman wasn't young enough to be this child's mother. 

"Do you need a ride?" I asked again, softer now that they were closer. "I saw you walking in the rain and thought I would offer."

"I'm not sure you'll want to, when you know where I'm headed," she replied. 

"Where are you going?" I asked, trying to remove any judgment from my voice. This wasn't my first friendship with an addict, and my heart knew the answer before she responded.

"The liquor store, down the road," was her response followed by some embarrassed explanations. 

"Hop in. I'll give you both a ride."

"You got a car seat?" 

We began to talk about my kids and about Todiasha, her granddaughter, the beautiful chubby baby in the stroller. I scooped the sweet girl into my arms and buckled her into my youngest son's carseat. My heart immediately skipped a beat as I fell in love with her big eyes and fluffy curls, and the smallest trace of a smile that skipped across her lips. 

We drove to the liquor store and the woman left this precious baby in the car with me as she went to buy booze. I played peekaboo and cooed at the bundle in my back seat, wondering how she could leave her granddaughter with a total stranger. I recognize that I don't intimidate anyone, so I can see why she may have felt comfortable leaving her with me, but my heart ached at the lack of care it showed in her parenting. 

Our conversation continued when she got back and she shared that her daughter was homeless, living on the streets, and she was raising her grand baby. This woman had no money, no food, and little to live on, and Todiasha was sick and needed medicine. Medicaid would pay for her medicine, but she didn't have a way to get to the pharmacy to pick it up. 

I asked how old Todiasha was and she said, "18 months." At this point, my concern turned to fear that this child was neglected. She looked no older than 8 months old.  Was this child severely neglected? Was she not being given solid food to eat? She had a bottle of milk that she was drinking from - were they mixing her milk with alcohol to get her to sleep? Concerns played through my mind and as I dropped them off at their home, I wondered if I should called CPS.  I walked them inside and their home was tidy and another elderly woman was living there (who I found out later was Todiasha's great grandmother). 

I offered to drive them to the pharmacy in the morning when the store was open, so we exchanged phone numbers and said goodnight.

The entire drive back, I kept wrestling with whether I should call DCS. Was it considered neglect to walk to the store in the middle of the night in the rain with a baby? What other options do moms have that don't have cars? Was the child really 18months? Could she be neglected? 

I drove up to my friend's house, now extremely late for the rest of our girls' night, and shared my crazy story. What should I do? 

After we talked it through together, we all decided that since I was going to see them in the morning, I could re-evaluate at that point. Calling DCS is a pretty big accusation for simply walking in the rain at night.  

I went home and prayed and prayed for that little girl and her grandma. Little did I know, that night would be the beginning of our journey towards adoption. 

The next morning, I picked up Todiasha and her grandma (we'll call her Debi to protect her privacy) and took them to a CVS pharmacy. On the drive, I asked again how old Todiasha was; "8 months" was her sober response. My heart released a heavy sigh as she looked like a perfectly healthy 8-month old. Perhaps I had overreacted last night in my worry and concern. Todiasha had strep throat and a bad diaper rash, so she was picking up a prescription to treat those, but outside of that, she seemed healthy and content.

"Will you buy my mom a lottery ticket?" she asked me on the drive. "She really wants me to get one for her."

Personally, I loathe lottery tickets. I think they are called "the poor man's tax" for a reason, but I try to say 'yes' as often as possible when it comes to loving on people and blessing them when I'm able. I went to buy her a lottery ticket while we were at the store and she responded, "Oh not that one. She wants a specific one."

"Okay, which one does she want?" 

"Well, it's not at this store. It's at a store across the street." 

At this point, I knew I was being taken and she was trying to scam me out of something more than a lottery ticket.

"What store?" I asked.

She hemmed and hawed around her answer until admitting it was the liquor store. 

"I'm not buying you alcohol."

"No, no, no, sweetie. It's not for alcohol. She just has a specific lottery ticket she wants from that store. It's only $2.50."

"I don't have any cash on me. Sorry."  

"Well, can't you get some here?" 

Her persistence paid off and I did grab cash, against my better judgment, and we drove over to the liquor store. I kept kicking myself as I let her lie to me. I gave her the cash and she disappeared into the store to get the lottery ticket. She made a show of having just gotten the lottery ticket and gave me $2 change, but I'm confident she bought a small bottle of liquor to tide her over for a bit and stashed it in her bag.

Normally, I know better than to get manipulated into situations like these, but somehow I did. On the way home, I shared my concerns with her and she tried to soothe my conscience by repeating that she only got the lottery ticket. I was very honest with her and said that I would be happy to help with any physical needs, but I would not be driving her to a liquor store or giving her cash again. 

She mostly accepted that statement over the course of the next year, although at times tried to convince me to buy her liquor. However, we developed something of a friendship over this time period. I would pick her and Todiasha up for appointments and help them pick up food from the foodbank. Occasionally, I'd buy them groceries or pick up a pizza and soda for dinner after an outing. Todiasha began to spend time with my kids and I'd babysit her from time to time. 

Debi nearly got a job at one point and I offered to watch Todiasha full-time, if she needed. Her new job would start at 4am, so we talked about having Todiasha sleep at our house so she could be to work on time. Throughout this year, it became apparent that Debi was an alcoholic, but she also loved Todiasha and made sure she was clean, fed and, hopefully, cared for. I wasn't sure how bad her alcoholism was, but she was mostly sober during our outings, so I refrained from involving any government agencies, unless I had something solid to base my concerns on. 

One night, she called drunk, crying and sobbing and asked me if I could pick Todiasha up and bring her alcohol. Tonight was the night her son had committed suicide years ago. I said no to the alcohol - something she hadn't asked me for in a long time - my heart breaking for her as I rushed over to pick  up Todiasha.  

We sat on the kitchen floor together as I held her crying body, shaking with sobs. Todiasha's mom was there and angry that I was there to take away her baby. She came at me aggressively and I reached out to hug her. 

"I'm just here to give you a bit of a break. Being a mom is hard. I can stay here with Todiasha and you can just have a bit of a break." 

She crumpled into my arms as I held her sobbing body.  "Take care of my baby," she said over and over. "Promise me, you'll take care of her." She continued sobbing and I prayed my heart out over those two women.

Todiasha toddled up and jumped in our laps, snuggling close and giggling, as I prayed for life and freedom and God's love to fill up these two women. We huddled on the kitchen floor, a tangle of arms and hugs and tears and prayers.

When we were done praying, I gathered Todiasha into my arms and carried her out to the car. Debi walked us out and asked if she could stay for the night. I said, "of course," and hugged her tightly and reminded her of how much God loves her. 

Todiasha stayed several nights after that. Debi was still drunk the next morning and the morning after that. About five days later, I brought our sweet girl back to her grandma. Debi was sober and I kissed Todiasha goodbye with a heavy heart. This little one felt like my daughter already. And it hurt to give her back. 

The next evening I got a call from Debi crying that the police were going to take Todiasha away. 

"Hurry, please come. Tell them you're her aunt. Don't let them take my baby away." She repeated over and over. I rushed out of the meeting I was hosting, apologizing to my guests, raced over to where they were and went up to the officers at the scene.  Much like our original meeting, a warm rain was pouring down in torrential sheets in the same parking lot we had met in a year ago. 

Debi was with Todiasha's mom, Angela (her name is also changed to protect her privacy), who had been arrested. They had been walking home from the liquor store and Angela passed out on the side of the road. The police had pulled over and found out that she had a warrant out for her arrest.  Angela's Breathalyzer test showed a blood alcohol content that was over 2.6, and the officer suspected that it was closer to 4-something, in actuality. He said he had never seen a blood-alcohol test come back this high.

They took my name and told me that Debi and Todiasha could leave with me. I hugged Debi close as she sobbed into my arms and said, "This is just like the night I met you. It was raining then too. And we were even in this same parking lot. You are the only one I know who would keep my baby safe. Ohhh, they were going to take away my baby. I've lost all my other babies. I can't lose my baby." I drove Debi home crying and dropped her off at home. She was obviously drunk, so I said I would take Todiasha for the night. 

The next morning Debi was still drunk, so we kept Todiasha for another day. And another day. And more days after that.

Andy and I began to talk about the future. Was it possible for us to raise Todiasha? Debi had just told me that she was dying of cancer (something I later found out was not necessarily true). What happened if she was too sick to care for Todiasha? Todiasha's father was in jail and her mother was MIA. We already loved her and have known her since she was a baby. Maybe we could co-parent with Debi. 

Thoughts filled our heads, but we just had to take one day at a time. I had a busy week coming up, so I messaged Debi to arrange to bring Todiasha back on Sunday after church. 

Asha after she came to live with us

I swung Todiasha by the house and carried her inside. She began to cling to me and cry, screaming uncontrollable and trying to claw her way up my body. She pulled away from Debi as far as she could get and my heart broke inside. Maybe I shouldn't have offered to bring her back to Debi's house. Maybe I should have just let her stay with us as long as Debi would have allowed her to stay. I tried to calm her down and she settled in my arms a bit. When I set her down, she started to whimper a little. I gave her a hug and said goodbye and she started crying uncontrollable, breaking my heart a little more with each tear. 

"It looks like you spoiled her," Debi said, trying to make sense of why she was having hard time transitioning.

By loving her and caring for her, I thought silently in my mind. "I think she may be tired. This is when we've been putting her down for naps recently," is the reply that came out of my mouth. 

I left their house to the sound of her tears, feeling my heart rend into pieces. How could I love this little girl so much already?  What was God doing here? How could I leave her? Was there a way for us to raise her and be her family? How would that even happen? What horrors would she have to experience before that was even possible?

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I pulled away, leaving a piece of my heart in that small little person.

I drove home and called my mom, pouring out my heart. Did I make the wrong decision? Should I call Debi back and offer to keep her longer? Why, oh why, did I even offer to bring her back in the first place?

My mind swirled with doubts and wondering what to do. I hung up the phone and curled up on my couch to pray. I poured out my heart to God -what should I do? 

Wait until tomorrow. His still small voice calmed my worry and anxiousness. I would call Debi tomorrow and offer to watch Todiasha again. God could be in control of how long we would keep her. 

As it turned out, I never had to call. The next morning I got a phone call at 7am. Debi was crying into the phone again. "CPS is here. They are going to take her away. You have to come get my baby. Please come get her. They're going to take her away." 

I tried to get the details of what had happened, but her words weren't clear and things weren't making sense. All I could tell was that Todiasha was in the hospital and CPS was removing her from Debi's custody. I texted the caseworker, whom I had met after the incident with the police in the rain, and tried to get more details. She said she would meet me at the hospital and we could finish our conversation there. I got my kids to VBS that morning and rushed over to the hospital. Debi had already been removed from the room and the police had escorted her home.

I won't go into all the details here, but CPS deemed it prudent to remove Todiasha from the home at that time. My heart was so relieved that Todiasha was okay; truly it was the best possible situation for a child to be removed from a home. She was placed in our care as an emergency kin placement after a preliminary background check. 

My heart soared that our girl was home, with us. It felt like the Lord had orchestrated all these pieces together just for this purpose and this moment. It was as if He had allowed all these things to happen to bring her into our home and our family for good. Could this be forever? Could she become our daughter? 

We snuggled her up and brought her home from the hospital and took care of her as her health slowly improved. Each day falling more in love with her laugh, her smile, her independent-spirit, her bouncy walk. It felt like she was the missing puzzle piece of our family. 

We brought her to church one Sunday before all the craziness began. At the time I didn't know her last name, so when we signed her in, we used our last name and the nickname that we've been calling her since she arrived in our home - "Asha Catts."

A woman who is a missionary in Nepal was visiting our church and saw her name tag while we were talking. "Did you know that Asha means Hope in Nepalese?" The moment the words came out of her mouth, I heard God's voice make a promise over Asha's life, straight from scripture:

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

This verse shot into my mind like a declaration of her future. A proclamation of what God was planning to do in her life. He has plans for her. He is going to prosper her and not harm her. He is going to give her a hope and a future.

At that moment, she become Hope to me. The promise of what God will do. "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1 

When God put adoption in my heart over a decade ago, I never imagined how the story would unfold. There is a fear in my heart that she will be ripped from my arms. I love her like a daughter already, but legally, I'm a placeholder. There are so many unknowns in our future with this precious girl, but I'm confident in God's goodness towards her and us in this process. 

Like the post I wrote a year and a half ago (only a couple months after Asha was born), adoption thrums in my heart still. My heart longs to be her mommy and have her be my daughter. This tentative place is painful for everyone involved, but it is a privilege and a joy also. Each day, I grow more in love with her. Each day, I wonder what God is going to do in all this. 

I wrestle with the knowledge that someone could take her from me - her father when he is released from jail, Debi if she meets all the court's requirements, her mom if she turns her life around. At any moment, the place she holds in my life, and I in hers, could be taken away.  

I've determined to love her with all my might for as long as she is with us. Whether God lets her become a daughter in truth or whether he redeems her family legacy, she will always be a daughter in my heart. I don't have any promises about whether I will get to raise her, but I do know that God is going to pursue that little heart for the rest of her days. I do know that I will pray for her day and night for the rest of my life. I do know that she is loved, and always will be, by me and a God that is more powerful than any other force in the world.

I believe, with all my might, that He is giving her a hope and a future.

Isabel & Asha

-Elisha

It's been a while since I've shared what's been going on in our lives. It's been a hard year for me, but God has been bringing me out of the desert and my heart feels ready to process some of the things He's been teaching me over the last couple years on this blog. 

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Wonder

Wonder.

His grubby little fingers pulled piece after piece of bark from the tree; his little body focused and intent, nestled in the leaves amidst towering trees. Sunlight glowed warm on his soft hair, and he disappeared into his own private world, imagining, creating, exploring.

My middle child held my hand and balanced on fallen trees and searched under leaves for hidden treasures of acorns and bugs.

My oldest climbed logs and made forts, invented machines out of trees and sticks in her mind.

These woods held private worlds for each of my children to disappear into. They wove in and out of each others' imagined worlds and invited us in to play too. Together we wandered and dreamed and drank in the sunshine and the smiles and wonder.

Sometimes I wonder if adults can find wonder in the busyness and the weight of responsibilities. There are so many heavy things that lie on our hearts, and yet somewhere deep inside even grownups are desires and dreams and passions and imagination and wonder. Too often, those things are laid aside in favor of what needs to be done and what should be done. The sleepless nights caring for a baby and the dreary days doing mundane work in a job that sucks the wonder right out of life can often leave us grown people feeling wonder-less.

But recently, a tug in my heart keeps pulling on my imagination and asking, is wonder possible here in the midst of the sacred mundane? Can I find wonder while doing the dishes? Or can my imagination delight in possibilities unseen while still finding contentment in the duties of the here and now?

My heart has been wrestling with the question, "Can I live each day full of joy and wonder?"

And an echo in my soul says yes. Yes, I can wake to piles of laundry and children demanding food and needing diapers changed and beds cleaned and floors swept, and school to be taught. Children who need love and attention and nurturing and practical care and so much more, and the constant worry of "Am I doing this right?" And yes, somehow in there somewhere, I can find wonder and joy.

I'm tumbling along this journey, sometimes stumbling into wonder by chance and other days searching for it and finding it illusive. Perhaps wonder isn't something you can create; perhaps it must always be something you stumble upon. And yet, my little wonder experts show me that there is something we can do - no, we must do - if we are to wander into the garden of wonder.

As I watch them, I marvel at the ease with which they slip into imaginary worlds, and I follow them down that path to wondering. As I balance on the log behind my sweet Melody, I wonder to myself, "What will happen if I do a cartwheel? Can I do it?" I raise my arms in front of me and angle my body and throw myself into a wild turn and land, laughing on the ground next to the log, in unexpected laughter and dishevelment. Wonder, it returns slowly, like an once loved teddy bear feels in your arms after many neglected years. Can I live this way? How do I find this again?

I inhale the crisp air in my lungs and let the sun soak into my skin, turning towards the beauty and the light and taking time to savor the moment.  I watch them play and learn from them, as they lead me back down paths in my heart I'd allowed to become overgrown.

My children have been leading me in this journey of wonder and I find the door to enter in is simply choosing to say yes. Saying "yes" to the people and the moment in front of me, rather than pushing it aside in my mind and choices in favor of that which is to come.

This new year has brought changes to my life, resolutions if you could call them that, and one is to say yes to my children as often as a I can; to say yes to the moments that will slip out of my fingers like running water if I don't just immerse myself in them and let the flow carry me off on wild adventures.

I don't mean this in a way that I won't tell them "no" to the things that are unhealthy for them or the boundaries they need to flourish, but I mean saying yes to them. When they run circles through the kitchen while I'm doing dishes, I want to join them instead of shooing them away so I can finish the job in front of me. When they jump on my laundry piles, I want to tickle them and laugh with them and bury them in piles of clean clothes and play peek-a-boo, rather than sending them off to play elsewhere. When they ask me to play dollies, I want to say "yes," even if it means setting down an important task at hand.

Wonder isn't such an illusive place, but perhaps it is difficult to find because it is a garden we can only see when our eyes aren't constantly looking elsewhere.  Mankind's first step away from God was the moment when they believed that the moment in front of them was not enough and that there was something more they could attain for themselves.

Perhaps, if they had kept their eyes fixed on the wonder and the beauty all around them, they would have been too busy to fall into the trap of believing there was more they needed to pursue and get for themselves.

My children are not constantly thinking about the things that need to be achieved or accomplished - they are delightfully just living in the moment in front of them, embracing the people right in front of them.

CS Lewis wrote, "It is easier to be enthusiastic about humanity with a capital "H" than it is to love individual men and women..."

Perhaps that is the heart of missing out on wonder. As we constantly look towards doing big things and accomplishing great feats or even just keeping life afloat, we miss out on the wonder of just loving the person in front of us now. We miss out on living the life we have now.

We may be passionate about loving People, but it means very little if we don't actually embrace and throw ourselves fully into the act of loving the faces right in front of us. And while life certainly comes with pain and challenges, I believe we can look around and find wonder even in the midst of those things because we believe in a God who makes all things new and who gives us His vision of hope in a world that is full of pain and suffering.

As Christians, we have a secret weapon of hope through which we can see the pain in the world. We can look around us at the hardships and know that God will make all things new. We have the hope that death is just the beginning of something beautiful. We have the hope that people can be rescued out of addiction and depression and hopelessness by a God who loves them more than they could ever imagine. We have the hope that all the painful things we've experienced or will experience can be so beautifully redeemed by a loving Father that we need fear nothing and regret nothing. We have the promise that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, so we need not live in shame or fear or insecurity, but we may walk confidently in relationship with God and people.

These lenses give us the ability to look around us and see the world through eyes of wonder, marveling at what God has done and will do.

I don't want to miss the wonder of seeing my children's grubby hands in mine and laughing with them about the slippery wooden bridge we are crossing. I don't want to miss digging for worms in the mud right next to their little bodies. I don't want to miss snuggling in close to my husband as we watch our children play and hearing his heart beat beneath my ear. I don't want to miss these things because I'm too focused on the things that need doing or the worries and plans for the future.

That day as I scampered the forest trails with my precious people, I realized wonder had been there all along; I simply didn't have the eyes to see it. I'm learning, slowly, that wonder comes when we are willing to shift where we are looking. So I'm determined to begin looking around, instead of just forward, and seeing what is right in front of my eyes and loving there. I'm praying for eyes to see not just responsibilities, but people, and a willingness to set aside that which must be done for the future in favor of that which already is.

Wonder is found by looking around and not just simply moving forward. It is seeing the beauty that already is and marveling in each detail, entering fully into each precious second of life we've been given.

May we all find wonder again and rediscover the beauty of seeing clearly the gifts that are right in front of our eyes.

A Journey Towards Adoption

The feelings are settled so deep that my mind has yet to form them into words. Even now, a gentle ache pulses where my heart is and I find that my mind is grasping for words, for Truth.

Sorrow. Sacrifice. Surrender.  S-words slip through my subconscious praying to take form and become something substantial.

What would I be signing up for? What if I regret it?

A girl beaten on the head at four months old, a boy given meth at three months to stop the crying, a 7 year old sneaking away from school during lunch to give her baby sister her a bottle during the day, a child who was never bathed. O God. O God. O GOD.

Tears are forming too deep in my heart to rise in my eyes.

What are You asking of me?

I think about their stories now, a 7, 8, & 9 year old, adopted into a loving and yet, overwhelmed family.  These three children have disabilities, they all are struggling with their identity and finding coping mechanisms, all dealing with the abuses that happened before they were even a year old.  I think about their adoptive mother - exhausted, overworked, tired, and sometimes wondering if this is really what she wanted for her life. But she loves them, so she keeps going.

Is this really what I want for my life?

But, O God... what if I don't?  Who will? Who will give their life to five abandoned siblings lost in the foster system?  Who will adopt the baby with down syndrome? Who will care if I don't?

I ask God - Why? Why aren't you doing something? And then He speaks and it makes my heart tremble and ache. "You are the body of Christ. You are the one I've called to do something. You are my hands and feet. Let me use You."  And if I am part of the body of Christ, how can I not take them into my home and my heart?

But what if I regret it?  What if I don't have enough love to give? What if it harms my children?

And then I think of Jesus and what He did. And a God who gave His own Son.

How can I not?  And that's when the tears spring to my eyes.  I realize what this means to me now - it means surrender, and sacrifice, and sorrow after sorrow. But if my Lord was acquainted with sorrows, why do I hold myself apart as if I should be protected from them?  If my Father gave His own Son to adopt me, then why do I withhold my arms from others in need? And if my King humbled himself and gave His resources to ransom me, than how can I not give away my own? 

So how can I not?

But God, I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I'm not sure I understand what I'm giving up. I'm not sure I'll do it well. I'm not sure I can handle the needs of children who have been unloved for so long.  I'm not sure I would know how to respond to them rejecting my love and concern for them...or Yours.

His name as a prayer on my lips. I can think of nothing except His name. O God. Jesus. Yahweh. Emmanuel. His name gives me strength. His name draws me close. His name is enough. O God. O God. O God.

How can I not?

--------

I wrote this earlier in September 2013, though never posted it. Since then, I've watched friends adopt and known friends who have been adopted. I heard stories about an imperfect foster and adoption system, and read countless abuses of international adoptions. I've had friends who were adopted and have shared challenges they've endured. I've known some who have adopted and wished they hadn't. Others who have never been adopted and wished they had. I've known women who have had their children ripped from their arms and placed into the foster system. I've known children who have been ripped from their parents, and long to be home with them, no matter how broken a world they came from.

And very recently, I've met a woman who adopted a beautiful son who was terminally ill. And watched her baby pass from this world into the next. As she told me her story, I cried streams of tears and asked myself, would I be willing to suffer like that for another person?

I've learned and read and watched and studied and listened. And each day, my own life began to feel harder and more challenging. The idea of adding more chaos, and stress, and challenges felt overwhelming. And on top of that, God pulled us away from all our family and moved us to a place where we have absolutely no familial support.

Before we moved to Indiana, one evening Andy and I were wondering aloud about God's reasoning in moving us to the City of Churches. Why there? I would prefer Africa personally, and there certainly seemed to be a plethora of ministries and churches doing local outreach. Why would God be sending us there, of all places?  As our minds wondered together, I remember saying, "Who knows? Maybe there is a child there that God wants us to adopt."

Since being here, adoption has thrummed in my heart like a growing crescendo. The weight of it feels tangible and the necessity of it feels impending. Even when we bought a house recently, the main thing I heard from the Lord about what we were to look for was big, so He could fill it. Okay, that wasn't in my plans, but sure, a big house sounds great.

And now being settled in this new place, I feel an ache in my soul longing for that child or children who are missing from our family. I've begun to talk about them like I know they are coming, asking our current children whether they would want a brother or sister, as if we are actually pregnant, and preparing their little hearts for what God has planned for us.

Somehow, in the deepest part of my soul, despite the very real and painful realities of adoption, I know this is the direction we are headed. There have been so many times I've put it off because of our season in life or the size of our home or the challenges we were facing with our current children, but more and more recently, I know it is time. There are still challenges and I still end many of my days wondering how to do this whole parenting thing. Truthfully, parenting is probably my area of greatest insecurity. "Am I doing this well? Do I show them enough love? Am I teaching them and training them well enough? Are they going to turn out alright? Will they grow to love Jesus?" play through my head like a recording.

Why is it that God wants to work through our weaknesses? I would much rather Him choose my areas of strength. I would much rather walk into where He is calling me confident of my abilities to do it well. And yet, so rarely is that how He works. It seems to me that he takes the place we are least sure of, and asks us to trust Him to lead us. He holds our hands as we tell Him we aren't enough to do what He is calling us to do, and He assures us that He is enough. He reminds us that His power is made perfect in our weakness and then tells us to press into Him because His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

Friends, I know that adoption is hard. So hard. Harder than I ever imagined when the dream bloomed in my heart those many years ago. I know that it isn't going to just be hard for me. It will be hard for the child coming to our home and our family, for our current children, for my husband, for the people in our lives who choose to love and support us through this. No matter the angle I look at this from, I know it will be hard.

And then I read my own words, penned in a moment of deep feeling and conviction, and know quite deeply and surely, that God calls us to hard things for the sake of others. And while there are so many unknowns and so many bumps in the road we'll need to navigate moving forward, I know I can say "Yes" to Him in this.

Adoption, with all it's nuances, is the very heart of God. He loved the world so much that the cost of suffering to Him and His Son, was worth the price because it meant we would be His children. And the idea of the children that are yet to be apart of our family makes my heart thrill in the same way that I think God's heart thrills when someone becomes a child of God. In fact, the bible says that the angels in heaven rejoice when one person turns to God. If there is a party in heaven about God's adoptions, then I know that He is cheering us on as we move forward in following His leading in this.

Pray for us, will you? Pray also for the child or children that may become part of our family. At this point, we haven't done any adoption preparation (classes, home-studies, etc.), and so that means that our children are either not born yet or likely in very hard circumstances.  Will you pray that God would begin assuring their hearts and telling them of His deep love for them and the family that is planning and praying for them, even before we ever meet them. Pray they would know the love of God that adopts us into His own family. Pray that they would be surrounded by angels and that God would protect them from as much harm and suffering as possible. Pray that their hearts would be resilient and they would learn the depth and the beauty of a love that gives of itself for others.

Pray that God would grow us into the parents we will need to be for them and for the children we are already raising and loving. Pray that our children would be blessed and drawn closer to God because of the family members we will be adding. Pray that we would have wisdom as we move forward about where to adopt and how to adopt and which agencies to adopt through. Pray that the Lord would guide our steps. Really, just pray however God might lead you.

This is the first steps of a journey towards adoption, and right now I have no clear ideas of what this will mean for our family specifically. I have no idea whether He will call us to adopt a terminally ill child or a child with severe disabilities or a child who is so hurt that their heart is numb. I don't know what we are walking into, but I do know that where ever He may lead, I will follow.

Join me in the journey?

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The Abundant Life

As I was praying, I saw a woman in my mind walking, searching, looking, constantly seeking an illusive something around each new corner and turn. In my mind, I followed her, wondering, "What is she looking for?" She didn't look desperate. She wasn't hurrying. But she kept searching for something.

I prayed, "God, what is she looking for?" And I heard His voice in my mind, "The Abundant Life."

"Aren't we all looking for that?" I replied. "Isn't that the search of my heart too?"

"Yes, but you know the way." And as clear as day, scripture flew into my mind. Whoever wants to gain his life must lose it. Whoever wants to live must die. Whoever wants to be greatest must become least of all.  Those words sang into my heart and wove into a beautiful tapestry of losing to gain, dying to live, giving of self to receive joy and peace and purpose and beauty and glory.

You see, we all hunger for the abundant life. We long for it. You long for it. I long for it. The world longs for it. Even creation desires to live abundantly - producing fruit and life and breath for all the world to partake of. We seek the abundant life in caring for ourselves, in our jobs, in our ministries, in our families. We constantly are tweaking elements of our lives hoping that they will satisfy the searching of our souls for purpose, for meaning, for abundant living.

And yet Jesus makes the way clear, narrow, but oh so clear. The abundant life is found in giving your life away. Giving your life away with no expectations, no thoughts of reciprocation, no desire for acknowledgement or praise or thanks. How many times are we motivated by the praise of others? By some personal reward or gain? By the hope that they'll reciprocate our love? How many times do we give generously knowing that we cannot be repaid? How long will we continue to reach out in relationship to others with no reciprocation? How many times we will do that chore that no one notices without a desire to be acknowledge or thanked? How long we will persevere in putting another person's good before our own? How many times will we personally suffer for the good of another without acknowledgement or end in sight?

Dear friends, the world will tell you that these are the ways to burn out, to run out, to lose your life. The world will tell you to take care of yourself, to put your oxygen mask on first, to do what you need for yourself before you can care for others.

But the Bible will tell you to die. The Bible will lead you down a different path.

Is it any wonder that we look around America and see very few people living a spiritually abundant life? Is it any wonder that we are all so often searching for purpose and meaning and joy and hope when we are listening to counsel that tells us to care for ourselves first?

Jesus spent His life pouring out constantly and the only time in scripture you see Him taking for Himself is when He went back to His Father in prayer. And even then, His compassion for others interrupts even His time in prayer with the Father to give and to serve and love and to heal. The end of His life on earth is the beautiful finale of His life lived for others in that He gave His physical life away on a cross to for our sakes! Are we also willing to give our earthly lives away for others' sake?

Jesus says in Luke 14, "When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you..."

You will be blessed because they cannot repay you.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus describes the people who are truly blessed and they aren't the people who are rich or comfortable or have a wonderful marriage or parents or family or friends. Those are the things Americans say we are blessed for having, but Jesus describes a blessed person entirely differently:

"He said:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
    for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
    for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
    for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
    for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

Would you like these kinds of blessings? Would you like to describe your life as one of mourning, meekness, and poorness in spirit? He includes the merciful, those who hunger for righteousness, the peacemakers, but we can't ignore that He sees the world and blessing very differently than how we've been raised to see blessing.

The abundant life isn't found in having more fill-in-the-blank, becoming more fill-in-the-blank, or doing more fill-in-the-blank. The abundant life is found in being willing to suffer and give your life for the sake of another, without expectation and without self-motivation of any kind.

C.S. Lewis said, "Die before you die, there is no chance after."

You see, baptism is a picture of us surrendering our earthly life and will and attempts to live for ourselves so that these earthly lives will "die before we die," so that we can experience the resurrection life of Jesus Christ here on earth, just as it is in heaven.

I think CS Lewis is one of my favorite authors and theologians precisely because he understood the fundamental path to the abundant life - Jesus. If we call ourselves Christians, the Bible says that we will walk as He walked. Our lives should be a reflection of His life and it is only in this beautiful swap, my life for His life, that we even taste the beauty of the abundant life.

CS Lewis describes it as this:

"The more we let God take us over, the more truly ourselves we become – because He made us. He invented us. He invented all the different people that you and I were intended to be. . .It is when I turn to Christ, when I give up myself to His personality, that I first begin to have a real personality of my own.”

Apart from Christ and His life in me, I'm a broken imitation of the fullness that Christ intended for my life. It is only in Him and in giving up my life and my desires and myself for His sake, His kingdom, and others that we can begin to find who we really are. What is more beautiful than seeing a person in all their God-given beauty living out who God intended them to be and what He intended them to do? You see every element of their life shine with the reflected glory of God. But I can assure you that they did not find that life without losing another.

We cannot find the abundant life in Christ without losing our earthly life and rights. We can try to imitate the abundant life - we see this everywhere in the world. But at the end of the day, when lie on our beds or come to the end of our lives, we will be left with only our Judge and our consciences, and a life lived for self will never be sufficient to satisfy either.

A life lived for Christ and others is the only thing we can present to Christ when we come to die. We must give our earthly lives up to Him now to experience the beauty of the abundant life here and in the hereafter.

I pray that we all would die so that we might live.

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends."

This is the secret, Christ in you, living through you, loving others and giving you the strength to lay down your life for Him and the world. Right before this verse in John 15, Jesus speaks about living in Him and letting Him live His life out through you and he ends that portion with these words:

"These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full."

Do you want joy that overflows because you are so filled to the brim with it? Give your life away. You won't regret it. I promise. Because you will find a new life far richer in joy and hope than you can possibly imagine. 

Jesus describes the kingdom of heaven being like a man who finds a pearl of great value and sells everything he owns to obtain that pearl. My hope is that we have the wisdom to do the same and give our earthly lives to receive a heavenly life that can never be taken from us.

{Our abundant garden flourishing in our old home in Oregon }

4 Resolutions to Live By: Carpe Diem

"Resolved, to live with all my might."

The words jumped out at my from the page, hitting my heart with a palpable force, and I realized that was what I've been missing.

"Resolved, never to lose one moment of time; but improve it the most profitable way I possibly can.

Resolved, that I will live so, as I shall wish I had done when I come to die."

I read an article once, a number of years ago, that discussed that which people regret most; they are not often mistakes made, but are rather those things which were never done. It struck me, as I read this article, that my time is too often spent doing the things I must do, but not often enough spent savoring the moments in front of me - squeezing out of each moment all the joy and benefit that could be had from them.

What does it look like to live with all my might? What would it look like to not lose a moment of time? What would it look like to live with intention?

I grabbed my journal and furiously began scribbling away. First copying Jonathon Edwards resolutions down and determining to claim them as my own. Then pondering what a life like this would look like. What would it look like to not just endure the challenging moments of parenting, but to really enter in fully to each moment and to improve it in the most profitable way I can?  Would I feel less like a babysitter and more like I had a sacred duty to joyfully fulfill?

What would it look like to spend my evenings, creating beauty or bringing order to chaos - contributing something beautiful to my home and family rather than indulging in the unsatisfying past time of entertainment?

More than a year ago, I listened to my dear friend share her heart at a women's retreat. As she spoke on discipleship, she talked about how God had moved in her heart to turn interruptions into opportunities. When I heard her words, I realized they were exactly what I needed to hear as a mama of three little ones. The constant interruptions that come from having three small children were endless - thousands of little tasks interrupted by their needs and demands and problems and desires. At times it felt overwhelming and unmanageable, especially when the needs of one child conflicted with the needs of another. How on earth does a mom supply the needs of their children when they just don't have enough "mom" to give?

These words spoke to my heart reminding me that each of these interruptions, each of their needs, was an opportunity in disguise. An opportunity to disciple them in the truth. An opportunity to show love and patience and forgiveness. An opportunity to teach them something new. An opportunity to point them to Jesus for their needs. So many opportunities hidden beneath the guise of an interruption.

I faithfully began to apply these ideas in my parenting - reminding myself that each moment with them was precious and that it was so important to not let their needs overwhelm me, but let them instead remind me of my need for Jesus and His amazing ability to use each overwhelming situation as an opportunity to invest in my children and their future.

As time ticks by, the firmness of our resolutions can get lost and diluted. Each moment stopped feeling like an opportunity and somewhere along the way, I slipped into what I call "babysitting mode," where you are just trying to enjoy the time together and make sure everyone stays alive and healthy. It was easy to set aside the challenge of the task that God had set in front of me - to disciple and train my children in the Truth in favor of just being happy and comfortable together. Sure, we still read bible stories together and prayed together. We still went to church (or did church on our own at home).  In so many ways, I could convince myself that I was still discipling my children.

But the truth was, I wasn't. Discipleship isn't just giving your kids or others more head knowledge. It isn't just even modeling for them a Christ-honoring life.

When we look at Jesus' life, much of his daily ministry consisted of taking the interruption in front of him and using it as an opportunity to intentionally disciple and love the people in front of him. He didn't waste his time. He didn't just give people more head knowledge. He didn't even just model to them how to pray or teach or do religious activity, although he certainly did those things.

His life consisted of taking every thought, every moment captive to the will of His Father. His life consisted of not losing a moment of time, but improving it in the most profitable way possible.  He took passing encounters and through the intention and leading of His father, He revolutionized lives and villages and cities and, ultimately, the world. A woman at a well - changed, along with her whole village through a simple intentional conversation. Many lives changed and bodies healed in an instant because of the willingness to stop and seize the full possibility of using every moment to bring God glory and to take an interruption and make it an opportunity.

We too, have this choice: will we make the most of every moment and live it with all our might? Will we refuse to simply laze away our lives, but rather squeeze with intention and attentiveness to the Spirit of God the full possibility of each moment of our life? Will we choose to set aside our own comforts and entertainment to enter fully into the possibilities in front of us - refusing to simply consume life but to give life and bring life into this world? Will we choose to see the frustrations and challenges in front of us as divine opportunities to usher in the Kingdom of God more fully? Will we enter into relationships with kingdom intentionality and fully embrace and love and disciple the ones in front us to our fullest ability and Christ's fullest ability within us? We will take our God-given gifts and skills and daily strive to serve others and grow in them and seek to bring God glory with all that we are and all that we do in every moment that we live?

Will we, as Jonathan Edwards resolved, live so as we had wish we had done when we come to die?

These words are challenging and convicting to my soul. I want to live! Friends, I want to really live, and live well and with intention, to the fullest of my ability. When I get to heaven, I want to say that I ran this race with all my might and that I ran to get the prize. I don't want to simply say I exercised a bit - I want to know that I gave it everything I've got, not holding anything back.

In other words, I want to seize each moment, and with all the force and choosing power in me, live it to the fullest, contributing all that I have to improving it and living it for the sake of Christ's kingdom.

Jonathon Edward's resolutions continue and his twenty-second resolution was this:

"Resolved, to endeavor to obtain for myself as much happiness, in the other world, as I possibly can, with all the power, might, vigor, and vehemence, yea violence, I am capable of, or can bring myself to exert, in any way that can be thought of."

Whoa. Lest this come across as selfish or un-Christlike in anyway, remember that our greatest happiness in heaven can only be obtained by living our life fully for Christ here on earth - becoming the least and the lowest in order that heaven-side, Christ might raise us up. "Whoever wants to be great among you, must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first, must be slave of all."

Jesus talks often in the gospels about the Kingdom of Heaven and he says in Matthew 11:12AMP, "the kingdom of heaven suffers violent assault, and violent men seize it by force [as a precious prize]."

If we are to seize the Kingdom of Heaven by force, as a precious prize, it means living with all the might and power we have within us to take each moment and squeeze out of it all the kingdom potential we can.

As we look at this verse in Matthew, it alludes that there is a war waging - a common theme we see in the gospels; a war is being waged against the kingdom of heaven by the enemy, or the adversary, or the devil. And yet, in this verse, and others like it, we see that a certain amount of inward determination and willpower is necessary in order to fight for the Kingdom of Heaven.  If the battle we are facing is against an adversary who wants the Kingdom of Heaven to suffer losses - which is often done through the choice of people to live for themselves rather than God - then it stands to reason that to seize the Kingdom of Heaven by force is through choosing, with all our might, to live for God rather than for ourselves.

In so many ways, living for Jesus is the crazy life of giving up your own rights for the sake of others and the gospel - the backward kingdom where we find life in death, greatness in becoming less, more in giving up, and finding in losing. It's backwards, but it seems to be the way He likes to usher in His kingdom. The wisdom of Heaven is foolishness to earthly reason, but it is life and power to those who are being saved.  Basically, these upside-down ways our King chooses to advance His kingdom might make no sense to those who don't know Him, but to those of us who have been changed by His grace and have found true life in losing our earthly lives, we know that this is the true power of God! We know that we only find life when we give our lives up and that the choice to give our life up is a daily intentional thing that requires absolute surrender to the will of God through faith and a willingness to choose, with all our might, to live for that which is not seen. It's crazy!

This is it - will we willingly choose to live with all our might while we do yet live? We only get one shot. We have but one life to live and will we choose, to live it for a Kingdom we don't yet see and for a God whose ways are foolishness to those who don't know Him? Will we die to ourselves so that we can live in Him? And will we live, with all our might and power, to take mundane interruptions and experiences and turn them into opportunities for our future happiness heaven-side? Will we have an eternal view that says that these moments, small though they are, are achieving for me an eternal weight of glory, through the transformative power of Jesus Christ and through my willingness to fight for His glory over my momentary comfort?

I read once that a priority is something you do. Until you act, it is only a wish. How true these words are!  We show our priorities in what we do. I'm choosing these resolutions because, I long to DO them and turn my life from valuing these ideas to making them a priority.

Starting right now - by grabbing my sweet children's chubby cheeks and planting kisses on their giggling faces and knowing that I only get one "now." I want to seize it with all my might, and live it for a kingdom and a King that is yet to be seen.

Will you seize your "now" and resolve with me to live each moment to the fullest, as we shall wish we had done when we come to die? Will you resolve with all your might to improve each moment in the most profitable way you can, and see your interruptions as opportunities?

Carpe Diem. Seize the Day.

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I'm pretty much a horrible human being...

I've spent the last couple days basically being a horrible human being. Or at least, trying really hard to stop the horrible human being tendencies in my heart from popping out in my actions. Unfortunately, behavior modification only works so well - with children and adults - and eventually the heart issues have to be addressed.

During this season, God has been focused on a lesson I'm starting to think of as the "Do" vs "Be" dichotomy. I almost wrote that God is focused on teaching me to "be," but it is even less defined than that because "teaching" would imply a lesson I could conquer and learn and then move on from. Rather, it is a more subtle call to simply pull back from doing and accomplishing and achieving and just rest in relationship. It's a call to find my identity in relationship with Him rather than in how good I am or how much I do for Jesus or how impactful my limited time on earth was for His Kingdom.

And I hate it. If I'm going to be totally honest, I like finding my value in what I do. It's tangible and it's something I can hold on to. It can define me to others. I can say, "I do these things therefore I am." I lead Bible studies, therefore I am spiritually mature. I tell people about Jesus, therefore I am on mission for God. I give to the poor, therefore I am generous. Ugh! I see the pride so clearly in these things, but I am realizing as I'm meeting new people that Jesus is just going to have to shine through ME and not my resume of good deeds for Him - and I'm struggling with that. I've always wanted to be a missionary, but I'm starting to think it is, in part, the ultimate culmination of wanting to find my spiritual identity in what I do. A missionary is a professional christian in so many ways and being a missionary must mean that I really love Jesus - or at least that's what it says to others.

And while I know in my head that it is SO good for God to strip me of these things and show me this ugly pride and the identity I found in "doing," I hate it. Because it shows me who I am without these things and how I don't go to Jesus unless I need Him to help me "do." I don't just choose Him for His sake. I choose Him for how He can help me be and do the things I think I need to do. These last couple days (weeks?) have been me just wrestling against this thing in me that wants to rise up and do - to find value in working for Jesus. Join a ministry. Lead a bible study. Start a church. I want something to work towards. I want something to define me. I don't just want to hang out and love people.

And here I am dumping my sin and pride and ick on all of you, dear friends, and the tears come to  my eyes as I write these words because, in confessing it all out loud, I can see just how broken I am inside. Just how truly desperate I am for Jesus. Just how much I've been deceived to think that my doing is the definition of who I am. If I do the right things, I must be godly. If I act the right way, I must truly be surrendered to Jesus. And friends, I so needed to learn how to act the right way and do the right things at one point in my life. The Bible says the law is a tutor, and it is, it breaks us so fully of our ability to rely on ourselves to have a relationship with God. It leads us to see that it is truly and completely His grace that allows us to draw near to Him. But now His grace is letting me see, as if in neon signs, that I come to the foot of the cross needing grace and mercy not just for my "bad" deeds, but even for my good deeds.

All these years, God has faithfully loved me and allowed me to draw near to Him, even knowing my heart and my motives had some self mixed in. All these years, He saw my inabillity to just "be" and patiently bore with me through it all - never critical, never pulling back, always faithful, always there.

And somehow that breaks my heart even more. That while I was using Him, even unintentionally, He just stayed true and kind and good to me. He blessed me and loved me. He spoke to me and even told me He was proud of me.

And friends, that's grace. "It is God who saved us and chose us to live a holy life. He did this not because we deserved it, but because that was his plan long before the world began - to show his love and kindness to us through Christ Jesus." 2 Tim 1:9

He says that He sees us with Christ's merit  - undeserved favor from Jesus' accomplishments. And that blows me away because I want God's favor for my accomplishments and yet to Him, our good works are "filthy rags." How can this be? How can we have a God who calls us to live a holy life, but then views our goodness as "filthy rags."

I'm finding the answer is that God isn't as interested in our "Do" as our "Be." He's more interested in who we have a relationship with than how we have an impact on the world. I was the reading the Bible to the kids the other day, and read these words:

"And this is the way to have eternal life--

to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, the one you sent to earth."

John 17:3

That's it. Real life is just knowing God and Jesus. And somehow I make it so complicated - I get caught up in all the details and all the nuances and all the practicalities - but Jesus keeps it simple: know Me.

I want to know Him. But how often do I get distracted in doing for Him that miss out on just being with Him? How often do I choose distraction over just sitting in His presence?  Before Indiana, I wouldn't have seen it because I went to Him frequently because I needed his help. I had my hands in so much doing, I couldn't do it all without Him jumping in too. But now, with no doing, I have to go to Him because I want to be with Him. The difference is subtle - one I haven't  paid close attention to - but it is there.

I wonder how many of us would slowly drift away from closeness with God if we never needed Him to show up. I wonder how many of us would spend time elsewhere if we didn't have places in our life that needed His intervention?  If everything was perfect all the time, would we still choose Him?

Jesus says that it is harder for a rich man to enter heaven than a camel to go through the eye of the needle and maybe this is because we shy away from relationship with God unless we need Him for something. Jesus follows this statement with, "All things are possible with God" - which gives me hope that God can give us hearts that want Him for His sake and not for what He can do for us.

Thankfully, His love for us isn't dependent on our performance, it is simply dependent on who we know. Do we know Him? Jesus says MANY will come to him in the last day saying "Lord, Lord, didn't we do all these things for you?" and Jesus will say, "Depart from me, for I never knew you."  That's scary to me, especially consider this lesson that God is teaching me. He's more interested in just hanging out with me than He is in what I do. He's more interested in spending time getting to  know each other than in how much I read my bible or whether I am a good parent or whether I give all my money to the poor. He's more interested in a love relationship with me than whether I live as a missionary or are martyred for His name.

"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing." 1 Cor 13:1-3

Without love - His love for us and our love for Him - we are nothing.

I am learning that my love is small, and that while I do love Him and have loved Him all these years - that I have much to learn about love and it what it means to live in love. I have much to learn about setting aside my doing and striving and achieving to humbly be and sit with Him - soaking Him in and not just receiving His help.

I don't entirely know how to go about this, but He's always been such a faithful teacher, I'm confident He'll lead me in the paths of love and relationship. And when I struggle, His grace is there for me - catching me up in the winds of His love because ultimately, He chose me and nothing can snatch me from His hand, not even my own mistakes and failures.  Even if I continue to struggle against finding myself in what I do, He has hold of my hand and is leading me in these paths of identity.

Who am I? I am loved by God. I am His daughter. I am His friend.

And I definitely don't deserve those titles, but they've been given because of grace and love and His persistent desire to have a relationship with me and with all people since the dawn of time.

Maybe you've been defining yourself by what you do or have done or are yet to do - but I would encourage you today - to stop and sit at His feet, put the "Do's" aside and let Him tell you who you ARE - who He has made you to be. It might surprise you, but I doubt it will have much to do with what you will accomplish for Him and will have everything to do with what He has accomplished for you.

"You didn't choose me. I chose you. I appointed you to go and produce fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever ask you for, using my name. I command you to love each other."

Let's remember this - we didn't choose Him, He chose us. The fruit that lasts is just a result of us living in Him and Him living in us.

"God is love, and all who live in love live in God, and God lives in them. And as we live in God, our love grows more perfect." John 4:16b

Listen to His words - as we live in God, our love grows more perfect. Not as we learn more. Not as we do more. As we live in Him. As we love Him and receive His love for us.

Father - live in us and let us live in You. Let us draw close to you with pure hearts, and know the love of God that is in Christ Jesus. Let us know You and draw close to You - allowing you to make our love more like Yours.

"He leads me beside still waters; He restores my soul."

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