Little Hearts

“I have a bad heart, Mom. And I don’t know how to change it.”

She’s 6. And she’s asking big questions, and trying to understand hard concepts. Concepts that I still don’t know that I fully understand. 

“Why, Mom? Why do I have a bad heart?”

So we talked. We talked about why Jesus died. We talked about why He rose again. We talked about her name, and what it means. We talked about what it means to pray. And how she has to pray on her own, and how I can’t do it for her. 

“Can I go color now, Mom?”

Sometimes I think I am more moved by these conversations than she is. But I also know that I don’t understand what the Lord is doing in that little heart. 

I just pray that He continues to work.

Of Blackberries and Mosquitoes

Blackberries. Big, beautiful blackberries. 

Totally worth every mosquito bite in the fight to harvest them. And totally worth every thorn prick, too. 

It’s funny how sometimes, we don’t really think about mosquitoes and thorns until after we have had our fill. But other times, the mosquitoes chase us away. 

And I wonder ... how often do the “mosquitoes” of this life chase me away from God? How often I let little things cause me to sin, instead of reaching out to Him. And I wonder, is it worth it? Is this life worth it? Is it worth fighting off the little things to reap the benefits of the fruit? It certainly should be, but so often I know I lose focus of the reward and only see the things that get in the way 

... But maybe, just maybe those things don’t really get “in the way”. Maybe, just maybe, those things are used to grow us, to strengthen us and to give us scars. Because don’t those scars remind us of the battle fought? Of the victory obtained? Or maybe the battle fought that was lost? 

And yet, there is someone who bears scars only because of a battle won. The victory over sin. The victory over death. A battle we don’t have to fight, because we would never win. And yet, He saw fit to win it for us and bear the scars that should have been ours. 

So Strong

If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a million times. “You are so strong,” people say. “How do you handle being a military wife?” Most times I am just left speechless, because I have never really figured out how to respond. Tonight, my husband and I figured out that he has left every year for the past 4 years, and next year he will probably be leaving again. All because of the military. Not only that, but we’ve also added 3 children to the mix in those 4 years. 3 children, in addition to the 2 we already had. So, that makes 5 children in 5 ½ years, plus my husband has been gone a total of 13 months out of those 4 years. Thankfully though, this last 3 months of training we were able to go with him. But anyways, back to the original statement .. “You must be so strong.” I finally have a response. I’m not strong, but my God is strong.

A long time ago, in very different circumstances, I remember my husband telling me that our God was bigger than the situation we were in. And that statement has followed me ever since ... My God is bigger than (fill in the blank). My God is bigger than any deployment. My God is bigger than mushed blueberries all over the playroom floor (the carpeted playroom floor). My God is bigger than melted marshmallow on my 6 month old (someone was trying to share). My God is bigger than being without my husband for yet another anniversary. My God is bigger than my kids being without their daddy for another 6 months.

So am I strong? Maybe, but I don’t think so. I can’t be strong enough. But my God is. And He isn’t surprised that my husband may be going away again. And even though I struggle (a lot), I am so thankful that I don’t have to do it alone.

Know therefore that the Lord your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations (Deut. 7:9)

Comfort

Dear Little One,

You had to say goodbye this week. You had to say goodbye to two people that you love with all your heart. And you didn’t understand why. You didn’t understand why we had to stay here, and they got to go home to “the Glove”. But then, you realized that to say goodbye to “the Glove” means to say goodbye to your family and friends there, and to say goodbye to Texas means to say goodbye to the wonderful people we have met here. And you cried. And I cried too. Sometimes it’s hard having a daddy in the military. 

But more than that, sometimes it’s hard following what the Lord has for you. But you know what I’ve learned here? It’s easy to be comfortable. It’s so easy to be comfortable in the places that we are familiar. And we are comfortable in “the Glove” because it’s all we’ve known. But you know what? We’re not supposed to be comfortable here on this earth. That’s what I’ve learned here. I look at our home in “the Glove” and I love it, because it’s what I know. Then I read my Bible, and God says in it that we shouldn’t look at this world as our home, but it can be hard sometimes not to. It’s hard to look beyond this place to a place that we can only read about. But that is why God calls us to live a life of faith. Faith that looks beyond the here and now, and looks to the place that He has in store for us. Faith that says the things I do today matters for eternity. Faith that says He brought us here for a purpose, even though I don’t know necessarily what that purpose is. Faith that says He is going to take us away from this place, where we have met people we now love. Faith that says we have an eternity with Him, if we believe in Him as our Savior. And do you know what, little one? That place is the best place to be. And do you know why? Because He is there. 

Love,

Mommy

"... These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one ..." Hebrews 11:13-16a

Just Wait

Just wait, Mama.

You hear it a lot.

“Just wait.” 

“Just wait till they get bigger. It gets worse.” 

Not very encouraging to a first time mama, who doesn’t know what to expect, or who doesn’t have someone nearby to help. Not overly encouraging to a mom with 4 kids ages 5 and under, with one on the way. Not encouraging to a mom whose children are on the brink of teenager-dom, and who is starting to deal with the emotions that come along with that. 

Yes, Mama, just wait. 

Just wait until your baby smiles and giggles at you for the first time. 

Just wait until they say, “Mama, I love you” at just the right moment.

Just wait until they want to wear an outfit because they’ve seen you wear something similar.

Just wait until they explain the Gospel to you, and they understand it, not because it’s being parroted back, but because it’s something they truly believe. 

Just wait, Mama, just wait. 

It gets better.

Five

My precious baby girl turns 5 in 12 days … And I am so not ready for it. She is thrilled, and my heart is heavy. She is my first to turn 5. She’s not really a baby anymore. She’s a big girl. She’ll be starting kindergarten in the fall. She loves dresses. She hates shoes. She loves to climb trees. She likes to imagine things. She loves her little brothers. And they all look up to her. She has crazy curly hair that matches her personality. She has blessed our family richly. There was a time when we didn’t think she would join us. Two times, actually. And God so graciously allowed her to be born. Her name means “resurrection.” When we found out she was a girl, we knew the name Anastasia fit her perfectly. And it does. She is a wonderful reminder to me of the True Resurrection. What an amazing God we serve.
 “Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.” John 11:25-26 

                           

    

                                          

The Beauty of the Church

In the past 3 years, my husband has left 3 times ... Once for 6 weeks, once for 3 months, and once for 4 months. Every time he left was for military service, whether that be training or a deployment. At the end of each of those times, I’ve taken a step back and “looked” at the time we spent apart. Every time I’ve looked back, I’ve asked myself the same questions. “What did the Lord teach me?”, “How could I have done things differently?”, “How can I change things for the next time we’re apart?” Every single time my husband has been gone, I’ve learned something new. I can’t say that it’s been easy. Honestly, it’s been anything but easy. The first time my husband left, we had 2 kids and I was pregnant with our 3rd. The 2nd time he left, we had 3 kids, and I was pregnant with our 4th. The last time he left, we had 4 kids, all under the age of 5. I was struck this last time by how incredibly good our God is. I have always been taught that the Lord will provide for all our needs, which is absolutely true, but I’ve never seen it the way I did this last period of training. I also saw how truly prideful I am. The first two times my husband was gone, I had a very hard time accepting help from people. I didn’t ever want to be a burden on anyone, until I realized that the way God was taking care of us was through His people - the church. All the people that offered meals and childcare, which don’t seem like much, were absolutely huge to a single mom with 4 kids. Not only were the meals and childcare huge, but the gentle reminders that my husband was doing a wonderful thing were huge too, plus the acknowledgement that my kids hurt, and needed comfort just as much as their Mommy. I realized how truly important the church is. The church - a community of people held together by the bond of Christ, who love and support one another in good times and in bad. Amazing. Absolutely amazing. And so wonderful. A place where people can come and be a blessing to others, and be blessed as well. Whether that is just a simple note with Scripture in it, or whether it is something else … Like taking care of children. Neither is better than the other. Each is important, and each is a blessing. So to those of you who have taken care of us these past several years, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for showing Christ to me. Thank you for showing Christ to my kids. Thank you for showing Christ to my husband, and for caring for us in his absence. “So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Philippians 2:1-11