Come toward the Light: Lessons from Easter Lilies

My sweet friend bought me Easter Lilies and brought them to me the Wednesday before Easter. 

Normally, these flowers don’t last very long, but mine are still blooming and beautiful.

Last week, I don’t remember what I was doing, but I was rushing around the house, and the Lord said, Stop and look. Notice.

All the blooms on the flowers had stretched toward the light at the window.

Maybe it’s because I’m obsessed with the new Bethel album and love the song “Shine on Us,” but I’ve been thinking about light and darkness a lot lately.

He is light, and His light displaces darkness. Darkness and light cannot co-exist.

The same day, He said, Look—notice, I was feeling so emotional and all over the place. I felt overwhelmed and not enough, and I knew I wasn’t walking in who I am in Christ.

It was like I knew it—but the feelings were so real too.

But His truth is light; it shines on those dark places in my heart where lies hide and wait, where false words sneak and slither.

When I speak His truth, when I believe His truth, I shine light there—and the darkness cannot stay.

Oh that I would position my heart—as the lilies have—to be stretched toward the light, to be turned entirely toward it, to desperately seek it, to hunger and thirst for it.

That His light of truth would be my greatest need.

Without it, I cannot survive.

I love Psalm 139—“Search my heart and know me, try me and know my thoughts; see if there is any grievous way in me and lead me in the way everlasting.”

David’s prayer is a prayer for light: let the light come closer, let it examine, let it know and see.

God’s light on our heart is never bad; it never hurts or burns.

Like the light for the lilies, it brings life and hope; God’s light restores truth and brings peace.

Dear friends, let’s walk in the light as sons and daughters. Let’s be drawn to Him. 

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A Tribute to Howell for His 30th Birthday!

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…

Prepare yourselves, this post will gush—a lot. Howell turns 30 on Monday, and I wanted to honor him today with my 30 favorites.

1. That he pursued me even when I was coy, cold, or flat out rude. It's truly God's grace! (And that he pursues me still today--with flowers, and sweet notes, and FaceTime when we're apart.)

2. That he embodies patience—all.the.time. I can’t wait to see him with our children. He is an amazing example of what it means to imitate God’s “slow to anger” characteristic.

3. That he prays for me every night.

4. That he likes to travel. We have so many great memories from London to the Caribbean to San Diego and all over Texas and New Mexico.

5. That he makes the coffee every morning. I know coffee pots are simple, but seriously, y'all--I just can't do it!

6. That he puts the dishes away after I run the dishwasher and that he does the laundry on days that I can’t and takes out the trash without me asking—not because he has to but because he loves me, and he knows it’s one less thing for me to do.

7. That he helps me clean house frantically every Wednesday as we get ready for life group.

8. That he snuggles with me every night.

9. That he keeps his beard because he knows how much I love it—and how handsome I think he looks with it.

10. That he supports my dreams. He created a One Note after the ACFW conference for what “we” need to do on this road to publishing—not to mention the endless hours he sat by me as I read (or wrote papers) for grad school.

11. That he holds my hand—when we're riding in the car, as we walk into the grocery store, when we sit on the couch. I never get tired of his hand in mine.

12. That he loves to worship—raising his hands, lifting his voice.

13. That he loves to read and learn as much as I do.

14. That he serves and is a leader at church.

15. That he loves to give money to others. He is an incredibly generous man!

16. That he sends me bitmojis of his adorable bitmoji-self that make me laugh or smile.

17. That he takes me to Sonic at 10:30 p.m. in our p.j.s because I’m craving a peanut butter fudge shake.

18. That he loves my family and my best amiga as much as I do.

19. That he pushes me to be the best version of myself I can be.

20. That he has a complicated spreadsheet for our finances (complete with our “net worth” and “liabilities” and “liquid assets”) that is titled and saved as “Stewardship of His Money.”

21. That he makes me laugh until I cry with his sarcasm, his one-liners, and his silliness.

22. That he lets me have the last bite, the last piece, the last sip—he always puts me first.

23. That he reads everything I ever write and offers his help.

24. That he knows me and sees me and loves me still.

25. That he stays up with me to watch Downton Abbey on a work night when I know he is tired.

26. That he builds me fires—and spends hours cutting wood for our future fires.

27. That he leads me and is always a rock of stability—if I feel uncertain or need direction, I can trust his leadership and gladly submit to him because I know he has my best interest at heart.

28. That he brings me Sonic cherry limeades or coffee or lunch when I’m at work just to see me and say hello and steal a kiss.

29. That he believes God for the future of our family—some days, his faith carries me.

30. That he loves and honors God with all that he does.

I’ve said before that I feel so lucky to be married to Howell, and I know, I know—our marriage functions well because of our commitment to communicate and forgive.

But some days, I really just feel lucky—to be the girl that got everything she could have imagined and more.

I think about the young man who brought me Starbucks after my Medieval Lit class when I know he only had $20 in his account.

I think about the man who wooed me relentlessly and ruthlessly and proved to me that faithfulness and loyalty still exist.

I know the movies are false—that marriage isn’t always a fairytale.

But sometimes it really is. And it’s not the stuff of fairytales necessarily, but it’s surreal and supernatural—and I consider myself blessed beyond words.

Happy birthday to the greatest gift God ever gave me.

Happy birthday to my forever partner and best friend and soul connection.

I am eternally thankful for your birth, and I can’t imagine my world without you in it.

I love you, babe—with all my heart!

Happy 30th!

In the Stillness: Hearing God's Voice

Fall has arrived, and my heart is full of gratitude. This is the season to be thankful, no? I love those moments when we get to take a ‘timeout,’ sit in front of the fire, maybe watch a little Hallmark Christmas movie.

Photo bomb compliments of Rizzoli! :)

I had the opportunity to rest on Sunday (which seems appropriate since we’re to honor the Sabbath once during our week), and I was thankful for the time to reflect. We have been going and going with something almost every night of the week for a while, and finally, we had a night at home!

Across from me on the couch, I found myself staring at a recent gift Tomi gave me:

Thankful, Grateful, Blessed. 

Amen. 

I have found more peace in 2015 than I’ve had in recent years—and not because of any major life event, not because I’ve experienced any specific changes. I’m still married to the same incredible man. I have the same amazing job. I teach the same remarkable classes. My routine is untouched for the most part. 

But I’ve experienced God’s nearness this year—His presence and His overwhelming love—in a way I can’t fully express. God is always good, always faithful, but this year, He has been so near, so tangible. And He has changed my heart in more ways than I can measure. 

Early in the year, I spent 40 days in intimate prayer with Him, recording His words to me every day. Those days were powerful, and I learned to recognize and be confident in hearing God’s voice. Even after the 40 days were over, I loved to hear His words to me—His personal words—every day. I am for you. I love you. I want to carry all your burdens. 

This fall semester has been crazy busy—more so than any I can remember. I can’t put a finger on it; I don’t know exactly what the difference is. But if I’m not careful to stop, to listen—I’ll miss His words to me. I’ll miss the gifts He gives me every day. 

Sometimes in our busyness it’s easy to overlook God speaking to us, and instead, our own thoughts crowd our head. 

I have too much to do.

I don’t have enough time.

I didn’t finish that today—and I really needed to.

I shouldn’t have …

I can’t…

I won’t….

On Sunday, our pastor read an excerpt from a book titled The Soul of Money. The writer notes that we wake up every morning thinking of how we didn’t get enough sleep, we have too much to do—we wake up feeling behind. Then we go to bed thinking of all that we haven’t done or didn’t accomplish in that day—we go to bed feeling unworthy, inadequate. 

This, my friends, is no place to live. 

Before we know it, we are operating from a mindset of lack instead of a mindset that says He is enough, and we are enough, and we can do everything through Him. Grace, my friends. Grace is God’s ability, God’s power in us. 

He gives grace to the weak.

He gives more grace to those who are humble.

Grace upon grace.

There’s grace for you today. Breathe in. Close your eyes. Stop for five minutes. Turn off your phone. Ask the Holy Spirit to come in power, to fill you fully.

He will.  He always will.

Lent: Not Giving Up but Giving More

Lent is about giving up, about sacrifice—and as one who tends to love duty, as one who craves to do lists and tasks to obey, I secretly love self-discipline and the rewarded feeling at the end of 40 days when I've accomplished my "task," whatever it is I've chosen to give up: “Yep, I still got it.”

This year, as many of my friends begin thinking of what to fast, what to give up, I feel God gently whispering: don’t give up, give more—more of your time, more of your energy, more of yourself to me and to others.

Don’t give up TV or soft drinks, give up your life for me.

If Lent is about preparing our hearts for Easter, about reflecting on the great exchange: my guilt, my sins, my shame—my ashes for His beauty, then may the next 40 days, for me, be about reflecting on Him: on who He is and what He did and who I get to be when I’m hidden in Christ, when I’m made righteous, when the work of the cross is finished—really finished—and I get to be made whole, complete, perfect, lacking nothing.

Not because I’m those things, but because He loves me so; He loves me so much; He loves me so much that He gave.

And if I’m to give anything these 40 days, let me give of myself fully.

I’ve read some blogs today promoting Margret Feinberg’s 40 day reading challenge, and although (if I’m honest), I get excited when I see little check boxes (That feels like a “to do” list for me to accomplish! Yes!), I have decided to focus these 40 days on the New Testament, as Feinberg encourages—not as something to do, but something to reflect: the story of the cross, of redemption, of the great exchange.

If you’re interested in joining me, you can read more here or print the reading plan here.

May the challenge for me—and perhaps for you, too—not be about legalism or about what I can accomplish with the right motivation and all the wrong motives; may these 40 days be about pouring out all of me and pouring in more of Him.