Tag Archives: life

I’m convinced that He is able to guard what I’ve entrusted to Him…

“…because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day.” 2 Timothy 1:12b

God guards – keeps, protects, covers – that which is entrusted to him.

If you’ve been a Christian for more than… oh, a nanosecond, chances are you’ve had to entrust things to God over, and over, and over again.

And then you think you’ve done it once-and-for-all only to realize somehow you’ve picked up that burden/worry/sin yet again.

Sometimes it’s not even a bad thing that you have to entrust to him – it could be a very precious thing – but that doesn’t mean you should carry it yourself.

(Did you know our good stuff can become idols too? Our spouse, kids, ministry, etc?)

But Paul tells Timothy in his second epistle that he (the Lord) guards that which is entrusted to him.

So it’s making me think, are there any areas in my life that I’ve not entrusted to the Lord right now? Are there areas where I’ve once trusted but have stopped?

A “small” but current area came immediately to mind as I asked God to search my heart related to this issue.

And just like that, I was able to acknowledge it and entrust it to him. Again.

I’m so glad he’s the one keeping and protecting it now.

Pretty sure he’ll be doing a better job than me.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Do you have any areas you need to entrust to him? (Don’t you want him to guard them for you anyway??)

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.


Stuff – what would you put in your box?

In light of the Colorado wildfires I was thinking tonight about what I would put in THE BOX if I had enough time to gather up precious, sentimental valuables.

Actually, I know full well what I’d put in there because I had to do it not that long ago when a cyclone was headed straight for our city.

I put in our passports, a few other important documents, some photos, journals, a box of love notes, and our hard-drives which contain several years worth of photos.

Really, when you boil it right down, most things we have are replaceable.

But then I started thinking about some of the things I have stored up in my parents attic – sentimental things from my childhood.

What if they were to evacuate their home suddenly, with only a short window of time to “rescue” a box or a car load of stuff? They would have no idea the things that I hold dear from my childhood. (Or if they did, there’d be no way they could locate them in time.)

What remains of my childhood in “stuff” form would be gone forever. (Not the end of the world, but sad for a sentimental sap like me.)

One of the things I’ve wanted to do during this time home in Oregon was rumage that attic and see what treasures I left behind 12 years ago when I left and never came back. That was on my list far before I left Australia.

But the fires in Colorado have given me extra incentive.

Now as I go through those few old boxes (there aren’t many – maybe 3 or 4) I will know to sort the fun-sentimental stuff from the important-sentimental stuff (as well as the non-sentimental-just-move-on stuff as well).

My heart and my prayers go to those caught in tragedy in Colorado, all the while my mind goes here:

what’s really important?

STOP.

 

Q for you: What would you put in your box?

 

Love,
A

p.s. I’ve been sick. And absent. BOO. 😦 But I’m on the mend now. YAY. 🙂

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited

 


Life, unedited.

The clock ticks rudely and I never realized how loud the fridge really is.

Muffled laughter seeps in from the neighbors and I can hear a train several blocks away.

It’s noisy here in the quiet.

My house is a little messy, but it’s clean under those toys, thanks to Rose.

On the shelves sits a plant starting to droop, asking for a drink. I forgot again today. Even looking at it now, I think – she’ll be ok until tomorrow.

There’s a printed out calendar sheet on the fridge at waist level with big green numbers counting down the sleeps until we “take suitcase on pane to ‘merica”.

Several boxes of ziplock bags are stacked in the corner containing blades and gloves and soap and things that one might see as “stuff” and another might see as a chance at life.

A small pile of baby clothes outgrown, folded neatly on the chair. Ready to fly to an island to be traded for fish so they can clothe Jesus there.

My eyes blur, my jaws clenched (again), and my shoulders raised too close to my ears.

I think about the bathtub I hope to one day have.

Relax. Breathe. Sleep. Those things have been hard lately.

But there’s a strange sweetness in the struggle. Prayers in the form of one and two and three-word pleas.

He answers, you know.

I wait for it.

But sometimes the wait is hard.

And sometimes cookies really do make things better. (I never understood comfort food before. But now I want some cookies.)

He answers, you know.

 

STOP.

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five| Five minutes a day, unedited

 


*Poof* Out of nowhere

The kids are both in a phase right now where they’re literally amazing us every single day.

It’s like they wake up and think… what new thing can I get up to today?

Levi spouts out new words as if he’s always said them.

“Oh, it’s windy!” he said the other day when we got out of the car.

All I could do is look at him and say, “yes, yes it is windy.”

We didn’t teach him that word – at least not in the repeat-after-me-I’ll-name-it-for-you kind of teaching.

He just learned it by picking it up.

A small example, but every day now he says many, many things along these same lines.

Seeing that little brain just explode with information and vocabulary is seriously awesome to me.

Not to mention potty training. By two hours into it he was already telling us when he had to go. And after the first two days he was waking dry from naps. And this morning (day five) he woke dry from overnight.

Hello, we aren’t even training him for overnight yet. We’ve kept him in diapers at night! Obviously he’s training himself. Smart cookie.

And Judah’s the same.

All of a sudden today he just stood up on his own and stayed there for seconds before falling. He didn’t pull himself up on anything, didn’t have assistance, he just stood.

At eight months old (yesterday) he’s seriously freaking me out the way he’s determined to move along. No doubt he’ll be an early walker.

And I guess that’s the thing with milestones. There’s all this developmental work in the background that’s going on that you can’t see… and then one day *poof* – it’s as if their skill emerges out of nowhere.

I wonder how much of that we lose as adults, obsessed with finding the quickest solutions and shortest routes to success. We want to skip straight to the results and rarely give time to work hard and build behind the scenes where no one can see us or where there’s nothing to show for our hard work and investment.

Or maybe that’s just me?

In any case, I’m completely astounded with my ambitious little boys at the moment.

They are so entertaining. And so fun to watch and learn from.

STOP.

 

Q for you: When’s the last time you witnessed a skill emerging from what seemed like thin air? (In an adult or a child.)

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited


Dread. Don’t do it.

Dread is a sneaky kind of fear that robs you.

It doesn’t exactly feel like fear, because there’s not that ‘afraid’ aspect to it.

But don’t be fooled, the dragging-your-feet-expecting-the-worst is a type of fear no doubt.

Recently I tackled something that I had been dreading.

For months I had imagined it. Loathed it. Resisted it. Put it off.

And then finally, I did it.

To my surprise it was much, much easier than I had expected.

(Yes, I’m talking about potty training Levi here. But that’s not the point.)

The thing is, I had built it up into this momumental task in my head – something to be entered upon almost as a martyr… surrendering myself to the cause.

I put on my mom boots and got to work.

And found it to be…

Easy.

And… even fun. (*gasp*)

So all of those months spent dreading and procrastinating? I now realize those were moments wasted, robbed by a mundane sort of fear that never should have been there in the first place.

And I see this to be true in other areas where I’ve “dreaded” before.

So here’s the thing about dread: don’t do it.

It’s just not worth it.

STOP.

 

Q for you: What have you been dreading lately?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited


Like a wave

It caught me by surprise.

He climbed up onto the side bar of the swing set yelling, “Watch, mommy!” over and over again.

I’ve heard that phrase many times before.

But this time it came from a little boy with striped socks, a zippered hoodie dotted with robots, too-long hair covering part of his eyes, and green “big boy undies” peeking out the top of his just-too-short-jeans.

Like a wave it hit me – my baby is not my baby anymore.

This is not my first “moment” in motherhood. Nor will it be my last.

But today in that 4:00 shadow where my son enjoyed his freedom to climb and jump and be his funny, brave, amazing self… I realized the one who made me a mom is a boy I must get to know all over again.

I’m so proud of him. And yet I want to hold on to him just the way he is. Right now.

Dang. I love him so much it hurts.

STOP.

 

Q for you: When’s the last time you wanted to freeze time?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited


The one about falling asleep fully clothed

It was a fall-asleep-in-your-clothes sort of day.

One moment I was feeding Judah before putting him down for the night, the next moment I was waking up fully clothed (with my contacts still in – yuck) sometime in the middle of the night.

For every good intention I had of squeezing in some work after the kids went down, my body had another idea.

Seems lately I can barely keep my eyes open.

Lists sit untouched. Laundry sits unfolded. Emails sit waiting for replies. Blogs sit ignored. Projects sit half-done.

I’m behind on every single thing I’m working on, full of new ideas I’m unable to implement, lagging on some of my day-to-day responsibilities, and wondering how to live this season well.

I still have so much to learn.

I probably need to get into the habit of taking an afternoon nap again, like I did for the first few months after Judah was born.

(For the record, Judah is not a fan of sleep. And that? That pretty much just makes me tired. All the time.)

I will say this: for all the things I’m failing at, one thing I’m doing right – I’m playing with my boys and helping them to grow and learn.

(Levi knows his left and right. Seriously? Can I just brag about that a tiny bit? I think it’s amazing considering I still sometimes have to stop and think about which one is which. So yes, my children are genius. *snicker* At least I can be proud of them. *grin*)

I’m multi-tasking less. Trying to listen more. Focusing on enjoying life more.

I know I’ll never regret that.

But still? Dang, I’m tired.

And dang, I’m half-drowning in the not-yet-done.

STOP.

 

Q for you: I didn’t write last night because I fell asleep at 7:30pm fully clothed. When’s the last time you were that tired?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited

 


More

I’m having one of those “alien” days.

The kind where you feel like a foreigner in your own land.

I’ve written about this before – about the feeling that you belong, but not quite. The longing for something more.

It’s the hope of heaven. The promise of a real home.

And it’s not that I’m discontent where I’m at.

The opposite really – I love my home, my family, the life we’ve built.

But I know there’s more.

Perhaps it has something to do with returning from a place (Sydney) where I always feel a glimpse of destiny. A something “other” that I don’t even know how to pinpoint.

Perhaps it has something to do with remembering what it’s like to connect with friends from a special (favorite) season of my life.

But whatever it is, the feeling is there. Real, raw, a little bit nagging.

The calm after the storm and the anticipation of the next one all rolled into one.

And I remember that I’m an alien here.

I really don’t belong.

My passport says USA. My address says Australia. But my heart says heaven.

My home is not here.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Do you ever feel like you belong, and yet don’t belong?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited


Going away and coming home

I just returned from the most refreshing three days I’ve had in a long time.

Judah and I went to Sydney where I met up with friends–most of whom I haven’t seen in five years–and visited family.

We ate Thai. We picnicked in the park. We got absorbed in the city. We talked about deep and meaningful issues. We walked miles and miles and miles, pushing strollers all the way.

I had pockets of “alone” time – small ones – but enough to remember how much I love breathing city air and merging into the bustle. (Alone time, meaning just Judah and I.)

There were special moments between my son and I that are hard to articulate, but I’m so grateful for. We’re closer because of it.

It’s hard to explain why this weekend was so perfect, but it just was.

And as I collapsed  into bed last night – exhausted and sore – I had a smile on my face knowing that I’d wake up and go home again.

Home to my family, home to my loves, home to my heart.

Going away is amazing. But coming home is even better.

(I missed this guy.)

I’m so grateful for this weekend away. My heart is truly full.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Have you been away lately? Do you love coming home as much as I do?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited


Soap-boxing and mouth-shutting

My heart is weighed heavily right now about big things:

Parenting, marriage, politics, the church.

And how it’s all wrapped up together.

I have strong opinions on most things in life – always have.

But I realize opinions must be carefully shared.

Sometimes social media (public broadcasting at our fingertips) tempts us into soapboxing before we really know what we’re soap-boxing about (or why).

Dangerous.

This is why I’m being quiet for the moment, even on things I feel passionate about.

Because it’s not just about the speaker, it’s about the hearer.

And sometimes words just aren’t good enough to convey.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Are you voicing your opinions publicly about the “hot issues” of today? Why? (Or why not?)

 

Love,
A

p.s. Have you noticed I missed two days this last week? Yeah, 3500 birth kits have kept me busy. Last night I realized I hadn’t written here as my head was hitting the pillow. Wisdom told me to skip “discipline”, and even be relaxed about it, so I did.

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited