Rooted in the Here and Now.

"The man who forgets to be thankful has fallen asleep in life." ~ R.L. Stevenson

I hate this quote.
It's true...and how often I have slept.

She.....is a stinker.

Jesus....help me not to forget to give thanks so that I don't fall asleep to my life.
...so that I remember that You are in the details.
In the moments.

What will I magnify today?
What will I name...  Remember?
The world - all broken and messed up?
The cracks running rampant throughout my own life as a woman and a wife?
The gaps in my mothering?

...Or maybe could I magnify something else....

Paul learned the secret of living...he learned how to be content in every situation...(Philippians 4)
He practiced.  He made habits.  He retrained his brain, his thoughts, his heart...

Naming something offers the gift of recognition..
"When we give thanks for the seemingly microscopic, we make a place for God to grow within us." ~ Ann Voskamp

Desiderius Erasmus once said:  "A nail is driven out by another nail; habit is overcome by habit."  When we make changes...or when we eradicate something from our lives - we have to replace it with something else.  Remove the bad...replace with good.  Get rid of the junk...replace with substance.

Wake up angry every morning because your kids are your alarm clock...realize this needs to change.
So...set the alarm for an even earlier time to give yourself an hour of silence and rebooting.
And do it over and over and over again...until you want it...and you need it.
Until you crave it.

 Feel ungrateful.  Feel unthankful.  Begin to count the gifts...both little and the large.

"Do not disdain the small.  The whole of the life -- even the hard -- is made up of the minute parts, and if I miss the infinitesimals, I miss the whole.  There is a way to live the big of giving thanks in all things.  It is this:  to give thanks in one small thing.  The moments will add up." ~ Ann Voskamp.

The moments will add up.
The numbers will grow.
Hearts will become softened.
Eyes will again see.
And mind-numbing practice of choosing over and over and over again to see...and to count...to remember...will become life changing.

Thanks-living drives out the nails of habitual discontent...and habitual griping...with habitual gratitude.
On the days we feel dead...those are the days when we most need to wake back up to the Glory of Now and the Beauty of Here...

The messes.
The mundane.
The crazy.
And the chaos....

It all becomes a sacred Holiness with God right smack in the middle.
And with His grace That. Is. Sufficient.

"Looking comes first." ~ C.S. Lewis
Our eyes are the windows into our body - Matthew 6
Jesus, give me your eyes to see...always and forever...

Braids.  I heart these.

And remembering is an act of thanksgiving...

~ Lego creations - Imagination Everywhere!
~ Laundry exploding - evidence of our wealth.
~ The way she shimmies up my waist when I pick her up.
~ Him beside me at the end of a long day - warm and safe.
~ Ransom singing:  "Jesus! Jesus!"
~ Sick boys, blankets everywhere, days of cozy.
~ Cribbage and coffee - with them swirling all around us.
~ Dates and conversation...and Grammies who watch our babies.
~ Despite the busy, despite the changes - always assurance of our love...
~ Snowy days at home - and naps.
~ Breakfast for supper.
~ Warm fire inside and the wind whipping without....

Snowed In.

Count the gifts.  Count the graces.  Never stop counting.
Always choose to see.
This is holy work...

This is how we slow our lives addicted to speed and our days that get blurred into smears.
This is how we become present...
And how we bring Heaven to Earthly moments...

Homemade drums...and requests for the real thing.

Slow.
Children at Play.

Seek and you will find...

Slow. Children at Play.

Since the beginning of December, I've been getting up early, while the skies are still dark.
London is faithfully, and without exception, my alarm clock - typically 5:00 (or 5:15 if she's gracious).

I grab her a drink and a snack, I sneak in and turn a flashlight on so as not to wake Ransom, I put a bunch of toys into her crib - give her a quick kiss and a snuggle - and I creep away.  But now, it's no longer back to the cozy of my comforters and that sweet land of slumber.  Now my body has found a new rhythm, and my life has found a new routine.

One that has brought me LIFE, and one that has restored my Joy.
I'm coming out of the valley...

I find her  bedhead hilariously delightful.

London's crazy early mornings used to frustrate me to the point of bitterness.
My very first and instant reaction of every single morning was anger and frustration.
I heaved my sighs, I flung back my blankets, and I have grown some permanent grumpy wrinkles from those weeks on end of Angry.

And then one day it changed.
God was gracious and let me grump for days about having zero time, about being permanently exhausted, and about how daily I felt as though I was living off of my very last nerve - with no time for Him, no time for exercise, no time for ME.

And oh so softly - He breathed back:  "You have time.  You have plenty of time.  How badly do you want it?"

And so we made a deal...
Or maybe I made a promise.

The Hoolie Boys' new sleeping quarters...by the fire.

I told Him that when London woke up, I would stay up as well and give Him the very beginning of my day - every day, if He would keep her content and quiet in her crib - happy, without screaming, and no waking of her brothers or her Daddy.  I wanted silence - I needed silence, and I wanted solitude.

And pretty much every single day since then He has given me an hour and a half, at least.
I get my coffee, I grab my Bible, I sit at His feet, and I watch the sunrise....every single morning.

And I have found myself again.
Or rather - I have found Him.

Sometimes school looks like this...

And now I crave Him.
And I want to know Him - and I know my need for Him - in ways I have never known before.

I am remembering how to breathe.
I am remembering how to slow.
I do have time.  And there is wonder in the remembering.

Sometimes school looks like THIS...

Joy is an exercise.
Muscles get lame and lethargic if they are no longer used.
And worry and stress are so polar opposite of trust and of rest...

We can't fill with joy until we learn to trust.
"May the God of HOPE fill you with all JOY and PEACE as you TRUST in Him, so that you may overflow." ~ Romans 15:13

So that we may overflow.....

My brother's love overflowed to us, and he bought us this new couch.
Kev's brother overflowed to us, and he bought us a huge t.v.
I feel rich.

The full Life - the Life that brims with abundance because of all that we have and all that we have been given - is a Life that counts and that sees...that lists and that remembers.

"In a broken world - when we remember how He blesses, loves us, when we recollect His goodness to us, we heal - we re-member." ~ Ann Voskamp.

When Mark Buchanan - a famous preacher - was asked what his greatest regret was, he said: "Being in a hurry."  Of all of the things in the world, that is what he said.  "Getting to the next thing without fully entering the thing in front of me.  I cannot think of a single advantage I've ever gained from being in a hurry.  Through all that haste I thought I was making up time.  It turns out I was throwing it away."

Oh man.
As a Mama, this speaks to me.
This makes me bleed.

I know this rushing.
And when will I ever learn?

But our kids are still young...and their Mama's still learning.
And in Christ, I fill up - so that I may overflow - onto them...

Legos.  Always Legos.

It's true - Life is urgent.
It's so urgent - and it's so important - that it requires we live it slow.
Multiply my moments, Jesus.

There's a sign in my kitchen - and it's written for me:
Slow.  Children at Play.

You awaken me to the glory of Now.
Keep me present in the reality of Here.

My Life.  An altar, Jesus....
And we continue Afresh this Journey of Joy.

New Beginnings.

Once I win the battle over my bed, I love early mornings when I'm the only one awake.
I love new beginnings.
And I love fresh starts.

I love what a brand new year looks like - stretching ahead with all those many months.
And I wonder what's in store for us.

I wonder what part God will have us play in HIStory for this coming year.
I wonder what surprises there will be, and I'm curious about the new chapters that are about to be written.

Typically, I print my blog books from January 1 thru December 31, because that's the way a calendar year works.  I find that life, however, doesn't begin and wrap up all neat and concise like the months on my wall do.  Seasons tend to flow a bit more freely, and chapters don't shut just because one month turns into another.

 (Ransom's birthday this year, in which I failed to write a blog post about it.  This was the month of the move, and Mama dropped the ball in writing you a letter, Hun.  I'm sorry.  I didn't write one for Daddy, either.  You requested pancakes, bacon, and eggs for supper and a "green cake with lots of candy."  We got you your first pellet gun, and you had two parties - one with our Housemates and one up north with Grampy and Grammy Quint.  How I love you, sweet boy.  My car loving, puppy toting, baby sister kissing, your very-own-name-writing, five year old big brother).

So, while my book should technically have ended on my last post which was December 30, I feel as though that would be a bit of a bummer way to end this past year's chapter of life.  It was indeed an honest post about a Mama's honest struggles, but that surely wasn't the "be all and end all" conclusion of a Mama's entire past year.

It was a year that was deep, and full, and good.  It was a year of truest friendships and of a marriage that was refined.  It was a year where we settled into having this crazy bit of pink in our lives and of watching three brother boys become putty in all things where she is concerned.  It was a year of deep growth for me - whereas in previous years there was a "coasting" in my walk with Jesus.  And it was a year in living truth that all "my adequacy" is found in Him alone. (II Corinthians 3:5)

Those are great things for which I am deeply thankful.
Those are the markings of a year that was rich.

And so, my sweet boys and my London ~
My biggest reason for writing these pages is for you to look back on your years at HOME and be able to remember...  To remember our memories and our traditions, to see yourselves grow through these pages of time....and to see your Mama's heart on this whole crazy journey of Family and of Motherhood.  This is my Story, and this is your Story.  And it's flawed and it's messy, but so are all of us.  And it's great and full of unconditional love that's Always and Forever, no matter what.  It's full of chaos and of crazy, of mishaps and adventure...and it's written by the greatest Story Teller of all time.

Your Mama's struggles are no secret to you all, anyway.  And your Mama's flaws are most apparent within these four small walls of Home.  But, I hope you see my growth, as well.  I hope you see my Journey with Jesus.  I hope you know that you all are my Life - my four greatest gifts.  You have grown me.  You have made me better.  You have brought me deep Joy and I am so deeply grateful for this whole Ride of Life that we get to ride altogether.  How blessed I am because of you......

For Chantelle...who says I never post messy pictures.

With a new year upon us, I am happy to look back.
I think it's healthy to remember, and it's good to look ahead.
And so, in a nutshell for me....

Lessons learning these past twelve months:

~ I am at peace with imperfection.  Let come what may, it is mine, and I accept it.  The good, the bad, and all things ugly to boot.  I love this life that is mine.

~ I accept the challenge to wake each day and find the joy, and peace, and beauty that comes with all that is the fullest Life that God wants for me.  And I accept the truth that I shall remain tired for many more years to come.  In the meantime, I offer the sacrifice of one less hour of sleep each day to obtain revival in my soul...and hope in my heart....and a renewal of strength and of grace for each new day.

Uncle Shawn...generous to a fault...who gave us a huge t.v. for Christmas because he says our other one was the size of a computer screen.  The boys now feel like they're at the movies when they watch PBS!

~ I have zero problem with sharing my struggles and my aches, because I am positive that someone, somewhere has struggled with those exact same issues. Four children later...there is no possible hope or chance for me to try and prove to others that I have it all together.....whatever "it" is, in the first place....and there is a vast amount of freedom in letting that facade of perfection fly fast and far out the proverbial window.  It's refreshing, in fact.

~ I am striving to be more intentional in my relationship with each one of my children.  I am striving to learn them individually - what makes them tick, what brings them joy, what God-given gifts they are expressing, and what areas God is wanting to grow them.  My prayers are becoming more specific - both for my children and for my husband, and He is impressing on my heart to cover them more intentionally - both in my consistency and in my requests.

~ And I am leaning in - a willing participant for whatever part of History God has for me to play. He's the best Story writer anyway, so He can write me in however He sees fit.  He knows all the exciting parts.  He's already written the ending.  And it's pretty cool that I just get to be a part of it all...

So, here's to a new year of learning, and of loving.
Of truly seeing, and of honest and true Living.

And so....
With another year behind us, and with a brand new one upon us...
I will kiss that man - your Daddy - into a new year of this crazy ride together...we'll hold each other tight... and I'll whisper to him soft: "It was crazy, but the story is good.  And I'll still follow you to the Ends of the Earth.  And back again...."

In the midst of the messy and the madness
I am safe, I am loved, and I am free.
With my Jesus and my loved ones all around me
Step by step, day by day, it's all I need.....

 Kaden and Jesse both were also both baptized this fall by their Daddy.

This also occurred during the month of the move, so a post did not get made into this book, however the entire baptism was caught on video and recorded.  

It was SO special.

Kev talked about the things he loved about each boy and how much he loves being their Daddy.

I pretty much cried throughout the entire thing.

And to the Author of it all ~
I thank you for this life.
It is deep, it is rich, and it is full...

Seasons of Harvest.

So far, I've written 42 blog posts for the year.  This marks my 43rd.
In eight years of blogging, I have never recorded under 100 posts, and this year I won't even clear 50.
I find this interesting and very indicative of these past 12 months.

These moments melt me.

Hands down, the hardest year of my life.
Easily the most stressful, the most refining, and the most raw.
Definitely a year that felt more akin to surviving as opposed to really thriving.

I am a woman who balks at change - it totally stresses me.
I am someone who needs large pockets of solitude and sanity to best embrace the swirling chaos.
I need downtime, I need breathing space to rest and regroup, and I need silence.
I love sleep, and I get twitchy when I am perpetually ping pong-ing from one thing to the next.

This has been a year where none of my perceived "needs" have been consistently present in my life.

We sold the house that I loved, and we shared a living space with dear friends - and worried often about being "too much" for them with all of the crazy that comes with six loud people.  I homeschooled two children for the first time, and I found myself to be very divided and often insecure about if I was doing enough or "being" enough for my students.  I had a wild and crazy, whirling dervish of a busy and somewhat high maintenance toddler who - to this day - is hands down my worst sleeper and wakes multiple times all throughout the night....so that I honestly cannot remember the last time I have had an uninterrupted night's sleep.  We moved - twice - in just a little over a year.  Kev got a new job - at a new church. And I went back to work after having several months off for maternity leave.

Snowy owl in our backyard.  Pretty sure he got my boy ducky.

So much change.
So much crazy.
So much "new" in such a short period of time.

And so, it's been a year of looking deep, of having to be intentional in finding joy, and of letting go.

Letting go of my clenched fists that were desperate to hold onto things that were safe, and things that were familiar - things that had used to define who I thought I was, and things that were never mine to claim in the first place.  Letting go of ideals of perfection and of that ever elusive "me time."  Letting go of "grand" and instead embracing "good enough."  Letting go of being able to do everything in my own strength and instead breathing Him into every aspect of my messy life.  This was the year where Jesus was needed most in my life - and it was the year where I felt my brokenness most embraced by my Heavenly Father who knows me well, and who loves me regardless.

It's been a year of seeing God's hand woven throughout all of it - a beautiful tapestry of grace where He has proven Himself faithful time and time again...and where He has "shown up" and shown me rough edges where He has wanted to smooth away and make me more like Him.  Areas that need more grace and spaces that need a whole lot less of "me."

I'm not sure if I am any closer to His likeness or not...

But I do know how desperate I am for Him - and how I know I need to seek His face above all else - as soon as my feet hit the floor each day.  I know I can't do life without Him.  I know I am not defined by things or by status - by my lists that may or may not get accomplished each day - or by the good graces that my children may or may not possess.  I also know that I am not defined by my struggles...or by the cleanliness of my home.  I know that pretense gets me nowhere and that HOME is wherever you hang your hat with your loved ones.

I know that change can be great, and fresh starts can bring Life.

Kitchen crazy...with nary a visible counter top in sight.

I have learned that emptying myself of all things "me" is painful and humbling and that I am not "super Mom."  I am still not sure how to divide my day so as to meet the needs of all four of my children, nor am I certain if they are getting the absolute best education that I could be giving them.  I still hate clutter, and there are days when my toddler makes me crazy.  I'm sorely slacking in the meal department and I can't remember the last time I went for a run.  My Home is full of Whirling, and the laundry's never ending. My brain bandwidth is almost entirely used up from the Neverending Swirling that is my Life...and I sometimes find myself staring into space once the children are down for the night - wondering if I loved them enough, if I held them enough - if I was present.  I experience many days where I'm not even sure exactly what got accomplished for the day, and I've been a slacker in the girlfriend department - letting days and weeks go by before checking in with a loved one...

She eats like a puppy.

But God is gracious, and so are people.
And there's grace to meet each day.

And it is such a good Life - so very full, and so very blessed.
Kevy has not experienced the greatest version of "me" these last few months, yet his love is unwavering and he stands by my side.  My kids show me grace unending, and they love me regardless. The views from my windows each morning bring peace, and His mercies are new every day.

Life is full of seasons, and I know that all seasons pass.
This post made me cry, as this is where I feel I have been as of late.  In the thick of it....
Forgetting sometimes, that Expectation is the thief of Joy...
And that it is the Joy of the small that makes Life large....

And so we begin again this Joy Journey...and we start again the counting...
Because it's good to remember...
And it's easy to forget...
How great is His faithfulness, and how rich is His Grace...

Push to Restart.

~ Silent starts to my day and beautiful sunrises.
~ Seeing grass in December and sweet, happy chickies.
~ Sibling love....and sibling squabbles...
~ Him by my side doing "Life."
~ A church that I love and intentional ministry.
~ A job that I love and co-workers who are friends.
~ Honest friendships - real and raw.
~ Letting go.
~ A sweet little Home - filled to the brim with kids and with crazy.
~ Simple savorings.
~ Footy jammies filled with sweet bundles of Busy.
~ Two blonde pigtails.  And Daddy love.
~ Three boys.  Growing together.  Learning together.  Loving their Mama regardless.
~ New mercies each morning.
~ Grace to face each day.
~ Lessons learning.
~ A Happy Homemade Christmas.
~ Family and friends to walk alongside.
~ A Mama's Journey - and grace from her loved ones.
~ Choosing to see.
~ Embracing Change.
~ Days of Thriving.
~ And Days of Surviving.
~ New Beginnings.....

#5212 - #5235 ~ My Joy Journey

Happy Homemade Christmas.

I think I probably took the very least amount of pictures this Christmas than I ever have before in my life.  Having a phone that takes pictures now, I find it so much easier to snap a quick shot and save it onto Facebook rather than click it with my camera, download it to my computer, and then eventually get it onto this blog.

Too many steps.
So little time.

Homemade Christmas Crack to give to our neighbors.
Saltines.  Butter.  Brown Sugar.  Chocolate Chips.  Refrigerated and Broken Apart.
Deelish.

But, I want things recorded here, and I want things written down so that we can remember -- even if the posts are few and far between.  Little is better than nothing.  Something is at least indeed something.  So, although this next year's blog book will be the thinnest of them all -- and even though this year of life has been the craziest of them all --- and although your Mama has probably felt the most frazzled than she ever has before in her life these past twelve months --- it is such a very good life.

And we are so very, very blessed...
I want us to remember that.

Daily Advent readings...
Trying SO hard to keep the focus on Jesus and not stuff....

Our family memories need to be recorded.
I want them to be remembered.
The crazy right along with the sweet.
And the frazzled and frail right along with the Epic and the awesome.
Because that's what life really is anyway, right?  A nice potluck mixture of it all....

My Christmas Gift to ME.  Happy Homemade by a friend from church.

So, here we go...
Let's remember....

Every year, I struggle with Christmas.
I love giving gifts to my kids, but I hate - like really, really hate - our culture of "gimme."
I love celebrating and doing special things, but I want things to be simple, and I want them to be savored.  I want us to focus on the real meaning of Christmas.  I want my kids to fall in love with Jesus, and I want them to be thankful -- no matter what they find or don't find under the tree on Christmas morning.

Peppermint Patties for our neighbors and my Marmie.

Christmas is tricky.

Birthdays for me are so much more simple.  That's the day you were born, so we celebrate YOU! Let's make it big, let's make it loud, and let's make it all about you! Christmas is the day that Jesus was born, and yet it's hard to focus all of the celebrating on Him when there are gifts upon gifts to be unwrapped with name tags other than "Jesus" on them. Sometimes it's hard to silence the cynic within me.  It's such a weird message we're sending.  And I get it - "Jesus gave us the greatest gift when He gave Himself as a baby....so let's remember and respond by giving gifts to each other in return."  But...sometimes, that just falls a little flat with me.

Christmas breakfast traditions.  I love tradition.

Some year I would love to ditch the whole gift getting all together and do something crazy like go and work at an orphanage or spend the whole day at a homeless shelter or nursing home.  Some year, I'd like there to be no money spend on us -- and every dollar spent on others.  I think that'd be so cool.  And so counter-cultural.  Sometimes I like going against the flow of what everybody else is doing...

And maybe someday we will.

But, for now, we just try to keep things simple.  And I try to get the boys as involved in the spirit of gift giving and Advent waiting as much as possible.  We made little treats and cards for all of our neighbors, we made lots of homemade presents for each other and for others, and the boys went shopping intentionally for each other as opposed to merely looking for gifts that they themselves would like to have.

Christmas morning Christmas story reading.

 (Kaden wrote everyone a super sweet little card with fun little illustrations)...

And I do love the magic of Christmas.
I love the child-like wonder.
I love doing things for my children that bring them joy.
And I love being intentional.  With our money.  With our time.  And with this Holiday.  Balance is good.

And while there were days when the boys were flopping over in their chairs with boredom during our Advent readings...and while there were times that we were Christmas shopping for a sibling but we were more focused on what we were hoping to get for ourselves for gifts....

I still hope - and believe - that little tidbits of truth were sinking in.
I can see with each year, a growing maturity - a growing sense of joy in giving a gift as opposed to just receiving.  I see them catching onto our theme of "Happy Homemade" and simple pleasures.  I heard thank-you's before there needed to be reminders, and there were many unsolicited hugs of thankfulness.

I have no words for this picture.  None...

This makes me happy.
And my family makes me happy.

The love my boys have for their sister and for each other is one of the greatest gifts for this Mama's heart to see.  My husband of 15 years - still my most favorite person - and still the Hero of my Heart makes me super happy.  Jesus coming down - wrapping Himself in human flesh - and loving me always and forever no matter what really makes me happy.  These are my greatest gifts.  All things that no amount of money could ever buy.  We are indeed blessed beyond measure...pressed down and filled to overflowing.

The gifts under the tree were just a bonus...

The Messy Miraculous.

"Maybe sometimes the miracle begins by growing not in bitterness but in faithfulness - because, for all its supposed sophistication, cynicism is simplistic.  

In a fallen world, how profound is it to see the cracks?"

~ Ann Voskamp ~

It's the radicals of this world - it's us Jesus lovers - who need to actively look beyond the broken...who need to break wide open all of those cracks of messy and of madness so that His light can rush in and shine all over everything...

That's when the profound happens.
All it takes is looking in the mirror to find something broken and full of holes...
It's the looking beyond all of the that...and the getting out of the way of myself... where the miracle can be found.

...In my heart, first.
And then in the scales that continually seek to blind my eyes.

Expectation is a thief of Joy.
And fist-clenched agendas don't allow for any Jesus room.
Telling God how it is going to be never allows for Him who knows best to give His good gifts.
And thinking I know best never works out well for anyone...

Only by finding Joy in the small are we able to make our lives large.
And only by meeting Him right square in the middle of the mundane are we able to see His miracles.

Sibling Love.  Sharing Popcorn.  Simple Joys.

 This life...
These days...
All the crazy.  All the chaos.  All the days of wondering if I am messing it all up all the time...

All gifts.
All full of miracles and of goodness and grace, if we but look for it.

Happy Homemade Christmas.

Because it's comparison that destroys contentment.
And it's by looking on the surface that makes us shallow.
It's not about the hype...
And it's surely not about all of the money that's been spent wrapped up under our trees.

Now this.....THIS...might be what's it's about...

It's when we get caught up in the crazy and the rush of what the world says Christmas is about when we lose the wonder of the mundane...and the simplicity of how our Savior came to us in the first place...

The miracle surely came in the mundane that day so many years ago.
Who would have ever dreamed of a baby in a manger...

So maybe it can come during the washing of my dishes, too.
And during the diapering of my baby.
Maybe even through the breaking up of brother fights.
And through conversations raw and real with a loved one.

Five brother boys.  Reunited.  Making Messes.  Living Life.

Maybe finding humor - and not going postal - when your toddler drinks potty water...
And maybe choosing to let him bake with you - and overlooking the epic mess you know will follow...
Maybe by being patient with the one zillionth question that is being asked.  Again....
And maybe by greeting him with a kiss and a "welcome home" instead of a list of gripes and grumpy...

Maybe those are all little miracles in and of themselves, as well...

Or ~
Maybe it's the single Mama bravely YouTube-ing "how to tie a bow tie" before her little man's Christmas concert.  Or the single Daddy braiding hair.  Maybe it's the couple who is about to implode who bravely reaches out for help.  Willing to stoop low.  Willing to make things work.  And willing to make themselves humble before others.  Letting Jesus shine through all their cracks...

Maybe these are the little miracles swirling all around us during these days of crazy and the moments of mundane.

These days of emptying self...
...of selfishness being refined.
...of humbling acceptance that He is needed all of the time.
Of knowing that He is God, and I am not.
And seeing afresh and anew that He daily bears our burdens.
He daily lavishes with good gifts.

Maybe by believing that God is - where we doubt that He could ever be - and maybe just by surrendering it all back over to Him is where the hope and the grace can all begin again. Right smack in the middle of seasons of dryness...of seasons where we have to look a little harder and trust a little more...

Maybe those seasons that are a little darker might even be the seasons where He finds most delight.
After all - in the darkest places are when we can see His light the brightest.

And isn't this the message of Christmas, anyway?
We are a mess.  We will never save ourselves.  We are broken.
And none of that matters...

Because, unto us a Child is born...and we are saved.

Crayons.  Broken and bleeding.  And they are beautiful.
Just like us.

"Christmas cannot be bought.  It can only be found.  

And you only really believe in Christmas when you really live it.  When you light a dark world and the unexpected places with a brave flame of joy; when you warm the cold, hopeless places with the daring joy that God is with us, God is for us, God is in us; when you are a wick to light hope in the dark -- then you believe in Christmas."

~ Ann Voskamp ~

I believe.

And His mercies are new every morning...