Dear Mom, You are Not Alone.

Two weeks ago, in church (of all places), I had just had an awkward encounter about one of my kids and behavior issues. People have the best of intentions, but don't really know how to address this sort of thing with adoptive and foster parents in a way that is uplifting and encouraging. I walked into church, feeling a little like a failure and a lot like I was alone.

I just feel so lonely, God. No one else here understands what it's like. 

Obviously, I know that this is a lie. There are a lot of people who have my back, even if they don't totally understand caring for kids from hard places. Plus there are even a couple who do know what it's like and are in the trenches too.

But in a hard moment, in an awkward conversation, in a small (or even big) mistake as a mom (whether it is biological, adoptive, or foster), it sure can feel like we are alone.

I found myself comparing myself to another adoptive mom on Instagram the other day. Her experience in fostering teenagers has been totally different than ours, which is totally okay! But it made me feel even more alone. Okay so, even the people who are doing the same thing as me are not feeling the same things as me. 

Our experience in fostering older kids and teenagers has definitely been fun, don't get me wrong. But it also has been incredibly challenging. Setting up healthy boundaries, figuring out levels of trust, handling correction delicately, building rapport, encouraging school and sport participation (but not over encouraging anything because like OMG stay out of it), helping with homework, and walking through some really, really dark and heavy things - these things are not for the faint of heart.

So yeah, when I get on Instagram and I take someone's snapshot of their life and compare it to my snapshot that feels a lot less fun, it can feel pretty lonely.

I don't really do that thing at the beginning of a New Year, where you come up with a word and let that word drive everything you do. But since Christmas with all of the talk of Immanuel, God With Us, I've been praying a very simple prayer that has reminded me of a very simple truth that I need so very desperately these days:

God, be with me. 

Because the world, in many ways, bleeds darkness, evil, and sin. (I mean, not to be a Debbie downer, internet world, but it does.) I'm sure it seems totally crazy that we essentially invite brokenness into our home. But being a foster and adoptive parent gives me the opportunity to stare straight into brokenness and tell it where the Life is.

And the Life is not in some magical parenting method, in some book, or in a special routine.

No, at the Cross, Life itself died to set me free. And then three days later, that same Life rose again to make me new.

And now that Life lives in me.

Romans 8:11
The Spirit of God, who raised Jesus from the dead, lives in you. And just as God raised Christ Jesus from the dead, he will give life to your mortal bodies by this same Spirit living within you.

I believe that as Kingdom-of-Heaven-bringers, our job is to bring the Life that lives inside of us wherever we go. Every corner, every nook, every cranny, has some level of darkness. We certainly don't hold the power to rid the world of darkness. But we can bring light to the darkness in our corners. We can breathe life into lifeless things. We can be living, actual proof that the Gospel is real.

And we can live with the promise that we are not alone. The Creator of the Universe, the One who holds the world in our hands, the One who sacrificed His own Son, the Merciful Savior of the World, the Beginning and the End, the Almighty One - He lives IN ME. 

He is with me, always. 

Matthew 28:18-20
Jesus came and told his disciples, “I have been given all authority in heaven and on earth. Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations,[b] baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

Even as He ascended into heaven, He was holding true to His name: Immanuel, God With Us. He promised again at the end of Matthew what the Angel already told us about Him before He was born at the beginning of Matthew: 

He is Immanuel, God with Us. He never left. His presence is near, even when it doesn't feel like it. 

And though this is a truth that I've known for a very long time, it is a promise that I am clinging to: 

When I am tired and cranky and the last thing I want to do is have a hard conversation with my teenager, I will remember that I am not alone.

When I am overwhelmed by the hard things that my kids have had to experience in their short little lifetimes, I will remember that He is with me, bearing those hard things too. 

When I'd rather retreat instead of entering head-on into conflict resolution or extra quality time or extreme patience, I will remember His name: Immanuel, God with Me. 

For Every Ashley

You know how some people know what they want to be when they're in 2nd grade? How they start thinking about their career, planning their classes for college, etc.? That was never me. When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I never knew. I always just said that I wanted to help people. This lack of direction has followed me until...well, it still follows me. I changed my major 5 times in college. I remember one specific teacher telling me that someone called her to warn her about me because I was a "switcher."

But one thing I have known: I have wanted to care for vulnerable children since 7th grade.

I mean, did I know what "vulnerable" meant in 7th grade? No. But God showed me His heart and revealed my passion to me when He sent us Ashley.

My parents met Ashley's family through my dad's work. My dad noticed that they were in need of some guidance and suggested that my mom meet up with her. I have a very vivid memory of meeting Ashley's mom and Ashley at an unfamiliar McDonald's for one of these meetings, where my mom would talk to Ashley's mom about life and Jesus, and my siblings and I would play with Ashley in the play place. I remember thinking that my mom and dad were the coolest for doing this. Looking back, I still think that they are the coolest for doing this, but on a deeper level. They were brave and courageous. They stepped out of their comfort zones to help a family that was in need. But more than that, they gave up convenience to befriend people that weren't like them. I think part of the reason why my heart is wired for foster care is because of the way my parents opened their hearts to people who were different than them. They looked for opportunities to bring light to dark places, and then they did it.

One day, we found out that Ashley was in need of a temporary home placement. I remember this exact conversation with my mom. We were in the computer room (back when we used to have those). She had just hung up our home phone (back when we used to have those).

Me: "Well, can we take her?" I asked, thinking almost assuredly that we would not be able to take in a 10-year-old-girl with our busy schedules, two working parents, and three kids.

But then she said:

Mom: "Maybe. I'm going to call dad."

The answer ended up being "yes." Though we weren't technically a foster family, my parents became guardians of Ashley.

Ashley was a fourth-grader, full of life and spunk and sass. She was small for her age, but she never backed down. She had a lot of difficult behaviors, she was kind of hard to get along with, and she was hurting.

I don't remember a lot of specifics about the time that Ashley was with us, but I do remember that it shaped me. I had grown up living in a middle-class neighborhood with a Christian family and went to a Christian school. Although I knew that there was brokenness in the world, I had never really experienced it until Ashley. My parents gave me the unique opportunity of experiencing and carrying someone else's burdens - in my own very home. Although I would've never been able to articulate it then, Ashley helped me in my understanding of the Gospel and how Jesus really did die to rescue the world and that He actually does care and that He truly is near the brokenhearted. 

 Isaiah 61:1
The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me,
    for the Lord has anointed me
    to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted
    and to proclaim that captives will be released
    and prisoners will be freed.

My life was awesome. I sure didn't feel like the poor, the brokenhearted, the captive, or the prisoner. Was the Good News really for me? 

Meeting Ashley showed me the world's brokenness and then did me the grand favor of revealing mine. Ashley taught me that I wasn't the Rescuer; I was the Rescued. And if I had been Rescued, then I couldn't keep living my life on auto-pilot.  Living a rescued life meant entering into the lives of broken and hurting people and letting God restore that little inch of the world. And that through His restoration of little inches of the world, He would restore little inches of me. 

Ashley captured my heart and she changed my life. But if it stopped there, then what was it worth? If we are A Rescued People but we have no life-change, are we really rescued?

So I will choose to fight, advocate, and stand up for every Ashley: 

For every child that has faced heart-wrenching trauma.
                                who has internalized deep, hurtful untruths about themselves.
                                who has a mom or dad that needs help.
                                who needs safety, love, and care.
                                who just wants a shoulder to cry on and macaroni and cheese.
                                who needs a bed to sleep in and a table to sit at.

I stand for every Ashley. 

You can find out more about the campaign #careforeverychild here.

Immanuel: God With Us

I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be with God, or more truly, for God to be with me. It's an interesting thought. I usually am thinking about what God can do for me, or what I can do for God, or how I can improve my relationship with God, or how I can be a "better follower of Jesus."

When Jesus came to earth, He didn't consider equality with God his "right." He instead gave up His "right" to Heaven, to perfect love, to no problems and no sickness and no silly humans and made himself nothing for the sake of the world. Although Jesus probably has thousands of names in Heaven, the Angel only told Mary about two of them: Jesus and Immanuel. His name, Jesus, tells us what He was would do -- save the world from their sins. But Immanuel answered an even more complicated question. Immanuel told us who He would be -- God with us. 

Most of you probably can tell that our life right now is a little crazy. My husband, TJ, is in seminary, working to finish his Master's of Divinity in preaching. He is working at our church, The Well, as a youth pastor. I am a full-time teacher, Student Council sponsor, and a youth leader for middle school and high school. We adopted Kendrick, our first child, a 10-year-old, in August. We took in our second foster placement in October and had him for about a month. We live in Denton but do most of our life in Argyle. Kendrick plays basketball and piano. We are a part of a small group, TJ leads a college Bible study, and we are lucky if we get to make two good meals at home each week.

It's safe to say that in this season (maybe it's every season, but especially this one), we trust in Jesus as the Savior of the world, and the Savior of us. We believe in what He has done for us and what He continues to do for us. Honestly, this is not a difficult one to believe in the moment of, I forgot Kendrick's basketball stuff or I flipped on a student when I shouldn't have or I didn't do everything I could have done to reach that kid. I mean, the crazy, chaos, and mistakes of life brings me to my knees and reminds me every day that I need a Savior to save me from the mess of it all.

But Immanuel? Immanuel is a different story. Mary has an interesting story because in the middle of her crazy, God didn't just save her; he was literally with her, inside her -- a baby. God came in the middle of her normal, ordinary, everyday life and forced her to slow down, to feel him kick, to prepare to welcome a baby into the world. I've never been pregnant or given birth, but I know many friends have had babies and pregnancy can almost be a forced slow-down for some people. They suddenly realize: Oh, I can't run very fast or lift too much or stand on my feet for too long. I have to rest. I wonder if Jesus, in Mary's belly, nudged her to a different kind of rest - a rest of knowing that He would save, yes, but also that he was with her. That he would never leave her or abandon her. That he gave up everything to be with her - to be with the world.

In the middle of a chaotic week, sure, I can remember Jesus' name, the Savior. I call on Him to get me out of things, to push me to do better and be kinder and love harder.

But do I remember Jesus' other name - Immanuel? Do I remember that God wasn't just with Mary and with His disciples, that He gave up honor and glory and praise to be with me - Immanuel?

It's impossible for Jesus' names to be mutually exclusive. He isn't Jesus without Immanuel, or Immanuel without Jesus, but how often do we think of Him as the Savior of the World without mentioning that He is also God With Us?

I've always been confused about my perceived dichotomy in the Bible about serving others and loving others versus resting and abiding in Jesus. I've realized that when Jesus tells us to take a "real rest" (in the Message version of Matthew 11:28), He's not telling us to slack off and stop "laying down our lives for our friends" and "taking up our cross," and "losing our life so that we can find it." Instead, He's saying that the only true way we can lay down our lives and take up our cross and lose our life is by being with Him. We were never meant to do it alone.

That's why He came: to be Jesus, the Savior, and Immanuel, the God-with-us.

He never left. But in my over-busy, extra-ordinary, every-day life, I miss Him because I'm often thinking about what I can do for Him without realizing that I can't do anything for Him until I abide in Him.

This Christmas season, I want to push to see God and let Him be with me. I want to find those "unforced rhythms of Grace." I want to be with God just for the sake of being with him. No reason. No motive. Just His presence. Immanuel.

K's Adoption

We have some crazy exciting news to share.

Soon, we will be able to take the heart emoji off K's adorable smile. We will be able to call "K" by his actual name, and we will be able to add Pancake to the end of it. K will be adopted into our family next week. And we couldn't be more excited.

Let me just tell you that this in no way was my plan. It is a story, K's story, written by the God who loves us. It has played out beautifully, in ways that I never expected and sometimes can't put into words.

When I got the call about K, I was at a teacher work day at school in October. I listened as the placement worker told me all the things she is supposed to: about his siblings, his behaviors, his past, etc. She told me the good and the bad, but mostly the bad. She told me that this would be more of a potential adoptive placement more than a foster placement, as his parents' rights had already been terminated. This made me really nervous. TJ and I decided to start foster care to foster. If adoption was an option (which usually takes a longgggggggggg time in foster care), then we would most likely be open to it, but it wasn't our first priority. (It still isn't, but that is for another post!)  I wasn't sure how I felt about our first foster care placement being an adoption situation right off the bat. What if we weren't ready to start a family? What if we weren't prepared for what a 9 year old boy was dealing with? Shouldn't we just get some experience first in foster care before we jump into adoption?

I got off the phone and immediately called TJ, excited but nervous. I would say I was about 30% ready to say yes.When we started the foster care process, I was the one super excited to start. But reality hit me, and I just got plain scared. Then, when it got real, TJ was the one who jumped at the chance to have a kid in our home. He immediately said, "Well, I know this wasn't the plan, but if our main goal is to provide kids with a home, then shouldn't we say yes?" He was at 90% yes - already.

His simple obedience inspired me to re-think about my questions. They were legitimate worries, but was I saying no out of faith or fear? When it came down to it, the answer was fear. We spent a weekend thinking, praying, and talking about the decision, but we finally decided on YES, YES, A THOUSAND YESES.

When K came to live with us, he fit right in (ask anyone who knows him!). He jumped right in to dance parties, laughing at jokes, and singing loud in the car. God sent neighbors that are his age at the exact time that he moved in with us, provided friends in his class and church, and gave him the most wonderful 2nd grade teacher. We couldn't believe how natural it felt.

BUT I had prepared my heart for foster care - the roller coaster of visits, court dates, the cheering on of the family while you have the kids, etc. There was none of that, but there was uncertainty about whether or not he would stay. There was a chance that he would be moved with other family, and although I wouldn't have admitted it, that terrified me. Everyday, we chose to love K because God had placed him in our family, for however long he was supposed to be a part of our family. It didn't matter whether or not he was leaving or staying; we were called to love him in the middle of uncertainty - a time that was weird for us, but I'm sure a thousand times more scary for him. I needed to be prepared for whatever God had in store for him, whether that was a sudden removal or a sudden forever.

A few months ago, K gave his life to Christ and asked to get baptized. In many ways on this journey, I feel like God is steering the wheel and I am just along for the ride. I watch God change K's life in the most wonderful of ways - right before my very eyes. And in that process, He also is changing me.

The world of foster care and adoption and the orphan crisis is a scary one. It is heartbreaking, it is hard, ordinary work, it is unrelenting chaos. But I have never so much believed that God is with me and that He is good. I have never so much trusted in His love for K and His love for me. God calls us to do the work of caring for the needy because doing justice is Godliness - it is just like God. (Just look at who Jesus, God incarnate, spent time with when he was on earth!) And when we do this work, He is with us. And when He is with us, we are strong enough to do the work. He straight-up tells us this way back in Isaiah 58. And then Jesus tells us again in Matthew 25:40 that when we serve the "least of these," we are serving Him.

I knew we were supposed to do it, but I didn't know it would look like this - so beautiful and broken and scary. I knew that we were called by God to care for the orphan, but I didn't know that caring for the orphan would push me closer to the heart of God and rest, like never before, in His love for me.

When we get close to the broken, we experience Jesus. When we are broken because of the broken, God is ever near.

Next week, K gets a new name. He gets to stay with us forever.

Throughout all of this, I have been struck by a facet of God that I knew about Him and thought was beautiful but had never experienced: He is Emmanuel, God with us. 

Here is Isaiah 58:

“Shout with the voice of a trumpet blast.
    Shout aloud! Don’t be timid.
Tell my people Israel[a] of their sins!
2     Yet they act so pious!
They come to the Temple every day
    and seem delighted to learn all about me.
They act like a righteous nation
    that would never abandon the laws of its God.
They ask me to take action on their behalf,
    pretending they want to be near me.
3 ‘We have fasted before you!’ they say.
    ‘Why aren’t you impressed?
We have been very hard on ourselves,
    and you don’t even notice it!’

“I will tell you why!” I respond.
    “It’s because you are fasting to please yourselves.
Even while you fast,
    you keep oppressing your workers.
4 What good is fasting
    when you keep on fighting and quarreling?
This kind of fasting
    will never get you anywhere with me.
5 You humble yourselves
    by going through the motions of penance,
bowing your heads
    like reeds bending in the wind.
You dress in burlap
    and cover yourselves with ashes.
Is this what you call fasting?
    Do you really think this will please the Lord?

6 “No, this is the kind of fasting I want:
Free those who are wrongly imprisoned;
    lighten the burden of those who work for you.
Let the oppressed go free,
    and remove the chains that bind people.
7 Share your food with the hungry,
    and give shelter to the homeless.
Give clothes to those who need them,
    and do not hide from relatives who need your help.

8 “Then your salvation will come like the dawn,
    and your wounds will quickly heal.
Your godliness will lead you forward,
    and the glory of the Lord will protect you from behind.
9 Then when you call, the Lord will answer.
    ‘Yes, I am here,’ he will quickly reply.

“Remove the heavy yoke of oppression.
    Stop pointing your finger and spreading vicious rumors!
10 Feed the hungry,
    and help those in trouble.
Then your light will shine out from the darkness,
    and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon.
11 The Lord will guide you continually,
    giving you water when you are dry
    and restoring your strength.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
    like an ever-flowing spring.
12 Some of you will rebuild the deserted ruins of your cities.
    Then you will be known as a rebuilder of walls
    and a restorer of homes.

13 “Keep the Sabbath day holy.
    Don’t pursue your own interests on that day,
but enjoy the Sabbath
    and speak of it with delight as the Lord’s holy day.
Honor the Sabbath in everything you do on that day,
    and don’t follow your own desires or talk idly.
14 Then the Lord will be your delight.
    I will give you great honor
and satisfy you with the inheritance I promised to your ancestor Jacob.
    I, the Lord, have spoken!”

Foster Care & True Adventure

I can remember standing in the pews of Liberty Baptist Church as a teenager, where I started to get it all, this Gospel-love that satisfies our deepest desires and hopes and dreams. I can remember singing the lyrics to The Wonderful Cross.

Oh, the wonderful Cross!
Oh, the wonderful Cross!
Bids me come & die
And find that I may truly live.

I can remember singing the words and meaning them, but not quite understanding. I can remember thinking about what it meant to lay down my life, to pick up my cross, to die -- so that I could live.

Isn't this a weird thing about our faith? That we are called to lay down our lives so that we can live? This goes against everything that our culture and society and social media tell us - that true life comes through dying.

I've been thinking a lot about adventure because a lot of people on my news feed are hiking or starting businesses or traveling to Europe. This is what I would consider adventure. Isn't it what you would consider adventure? Daring to do something that pushes your limits and makes you think bigger and changes your perspective? 

But even the most amazing adventures - the jumping out of airplanes, the mission trips, the camps - are followed by a return to normal, to monotonous, to a job that we do or don't like, to a life we are unsure we want, to wearing ourselves out trying to make it. It's a reminder that even the best of the best adventure still doesn't satisfy.

So, I've been thinking: while those adventures are good and maybe even necessary, they aren't the real deal. They're close, they're on the right track, but they've missed the mark. Maybe True Adventure is in the laying it all down, in the giving it all up, in the surrender, in the dying.

There was no resurrection until there was a crucifixion.

I am about to embark on an adventure with my amazing husband, Teej. We are delving into the world of Foster Care. We have felt God press on our hearts with a certainty that we can't quite explain.

Most would not call our adventure an adventure, though. In fact, many have told us how the odds are stacked against us. Maybe they are not deliberately discouraging us from doing what God has called us to do. But we can hear it in their disapproving tone, in their story of foster-care failure, in their silence. They don't see Foster Care as True Adventure. They see Foster Care as a Life Sentence to misery.

I am currently on a plane on my way back to Dallas. I started thinking about this because I just heard Maria Goff talk about intention on Jamie Ivey's podcast "The Happy Hour" (highly recommend). She said something that stuck with me: that when you're living your life, you have to wave a white flag and declare, "THIS IS HOW I WANT TO LIVE MY LIFE! AND I'M GOING TO DO IT!"

It becomes all too easy to let our jobs and friends and churches and expectations and schedules run us. When this happens, we lose the opportunity to lay down our lives daily and intentionally seek out ways to serve, to give, to love, to die.

Sounds weird, right? Because dying?! --- dying isn't what we want! Dying is sad, causes grief, breeds pain. But that's the crazy truth of the Gospel:
Through the rejection, suffering, and sorrow of the Cross, Jesus came back to life.
Through the sadness, grief, and pain of choosing death of our selves, we gain new life.

True Joy is only found in the True Adventure.


And True Adventure is giving it all up.


And when we give it all up, that's where we find Jesus.


Because He gave it all up. He already lived the True Adventure, and He wants us to know the same love, the same hope, the same joy, that He does.


But the problem is - this True Adventure - it doesn't just show up at our doorstep. God doesn't send a message to us in our mailboxes, telling us the next step. This Adventure that God takes us on - this journey - there's no instruction guide.

Of course, I want to wait on God, to be sure that this is what He wants, but constantly waiting for a huge sign in the sky telling me what to do next is a little cray-cray. Yes, God wants us to trust Him, to pray for Him to move, but I don't think that should be apart from our actions. He wants us to move with Him, to live life with intention, to say, "I'm going to live my life THIS WAY," and then -- ACTUALLY DO IT.

I have ideas about what I want my life to be: I want to show others Jesus, I want to be generous, I want to be kind, loving, and hospitable, I want to be a good neighbor and friend, I want to mother the motherless and help the least of these. It's not that I have totally neglected these desires; some of these come out in my teaching or in our youth ministry or in my friendships or family relationships. But I've never intentionally decided: This is how I want my life to be. And this is how I'm going to do it.

Because surrender, dying, sacrifice - this stuff is hard. But, as Ann Voskamp says in The Broken Way, "spending yourself is how you multiply joy." So the way to true joy is through sacrifice. The way to abundance is giving it all away - time, money, love. It's backwards and it's hard, but it's what Jesus said too: "The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life." (John 12:25)


When we take up our cross and follow Christ, He gives us "life abundant." (John 10:10)

And so this is why I consider Foster Care part of our True Adventure. God has called us to "care for the widow and the orphan," and as people have pointed out to us, it ain't gon be easy.

BUT it's going to be worth it. And so...
-- we choose to open our home
so that little ones with no home
can experience the love, hope, and joy
of the Savior who left His home for us.

Update on our Foster Care journey: We are almost done paper work and waiting on scheduling our Home Study to be approved! We are so excited and would appreciate any prayer and encouragement you can give!

Lastly, an excerpt from Jeremiah 22 that really opened up my eyes to what God cares about:

“Woe to him who builds his palace by unrighteousness,
    his upper rooms by injustice,
making his own people work for nothing,
    not paying them for their labor.
14 He says, ‘I will build myself a great palace
    with spacious upper rooms.’
So he makes large windows in it,
    panels it with cedar
    and decorates it in red.

15 “Does it make you a king
    to have more and more cedar?
Did not your father have food and drink?
    He did what was right and just,
    so all went well with him.
16 He defended the cause of the poor and needy,
    and so all went well.
Is that not what it means to know me?”
    declares the Lord.
17 “But your eyes and your heart
    are set only on dishonest gain,
on shedding innocent blood
    and on oppression and extortion.”

Your Life Still Matters

I have noticed a trend these days. It is a trend of praising and glorifying women who start businesses, who step out in faith, who do extraordinary things, travel, speak in front of thousands, who write and have their words read by millions. We praise them because we should praise them. Because women have real voices and ideas and dreams and are accomplishing those dreams and that's stinking awesome.

I am definitely not bashing this move toward reading and listening to intelligent, God-fearing women. I'm all about it. In fact, I listen to Jamie Ivey's podcast, "The Happy Hour," to and from work because it's SO much better than listening to the same five pop songs on the radio (for real). I so love listening to their stories, how they're growing in Jesus, how they're turning their dreams into realities, and what that looks like as a mom and a wife and a follower of Christ. It inspires me, makes me want to get up off my butt and do something for the kingdom. It makes me think big, dream big, hope big. And I love all of those things and all of these women.

But I think we may be entering dangerous territory, here.

Because sometimes, when I'm listening to this podcast, or reading a story about a woman entrepreneur, or following a Christian woman blogger/foster mom on Instagram, I start to believe a lie. I start to believe a lie that my everyday, hard, teaching job is not important. I start to  think that what I'm doing in our youth ministry, serving and loving high school and middle school girls, is not enough.

Maybe I should do something bigger. Maybe I should write a Bible study or start a program for foster families or DO SOMETHING BIG. Because big is what feels exciting and awesome and where people find God?

In the word of Donald Trump, WRONG.

My life as a teacher, as a wife, as a youth leader matters. The work that I do - day in and day out - matters. My friend Lindsay's life as a wife and mom of a three-year-old matters. Does someone hear about her story everyday? No. My sister's journey toward becoming a nurse, and my friend Carly's career as a nurse - it matters. My mom's relationships with people that no one else sees - her mentor-ship and her love for them - it is of high value.

We don't have do do big and glorious things to impact the Kingdom, to be excited about God, to see His faithfulness in our everyday life. In fact, if we think we have do something that everyone in the world will see and love in order to make God happy, then I think we are looking in the wrong places.

No, real Gospel change, real post-Jesus, I'm-in-love-with-Him change happens in the everyday, small acts of washing dishes and redirecting in a classroom and helping an elderly man get back to his hospital bed. And I am sure those wonderful women starting businesses are doing that too. But I want to call attention to the quiet, faithful people who, knowing they will receive no recognition, complete small, ordinary acts of extraordinary love. These people mirror the faithfulness of God.

Because the everyday, down-and-dirty, clean the bathroom, love-choice shows and treasures Jesus just as much as the big-picture, I'm-starting-an-amazing-non-profit, social-media posts. If I may be so bold, the first matters shows and treasures Him more.

Because did Jesus come to earth clothed in a royal robe and riding on a magnificent horse and chariot? Did He rush to a throne and demand for praise and honor and for all to bow down to the one and only true King? Did he arrive with angel's trumpets and  people praising His name? Was Jesus crowned with a crown that He deserves, lined with jewels and diamonds and rubies of highest quality?

No, Jesus came to earth, born from a girl who experienced the judgment and scorn from the "religious" when they saw that she was having a baby (if they only knew!) out of wedlock. Jesus was born a baby, in a stable with a bunch of dirty animals. Jesus humbly spoke the truth in love, often calling people out on their crap and loving people when they least deserved it. Jesus was given a crown of thorns, a crown that mocked and tore at His skin. He was sentenced to a death that He didn't deserve and rejection from His father because he bore the curse that should have been ours.

It's upside-down, peeps. God's Kingdom works backwards. And when we faithfully serve, and consistently love, and show up for the broken, the sinners, the least-of-these, the needy, the sick, the vulnerable, and when we do it without the recognition or acknowledgement that we deserve, that is when He shapes us to become more like Him - humble, truthful, kind, loving, etc.

I used to get upset when people would say, "God's Kingdom is not about you." This statement would confuse me and cause me to question my faith. I would think Well, God, then I guess it's all about you and we don't even matter. 

Years later, looking back I realize that the original statement is true, and that I got the interpretation all wrong. I was all out of wack - still somehow thinking only about myself. Now I understand that our lives, our choices, our thoughts, our every-days matter to God. We are valuable to God. BUT He knows that we only experience the true joy of knowing Him when we give it all up. 

It's not about our worth or our value; it's about our joy and our willingness to put it all on the line for the Gospel, the stinking-good-news. And we do that in the mundane, every-day tasks, the menial folding, the call to our best friend when it may not be the best time, the thoughtful note sent, the kiss on a cheek to a tired and worn-out husband, the forgiveness given to someone who doesn't deserve it, the pulling-in of someone who is on the outskirts, the perseverance in love when your kid defies you, the decorating for a night to honor someone.

JESUS is in these things, y'all, as much as He is in the life-changing campaigns and businesses and non-profits. And I'm working everyday to believe it.

These verses in Philippians 2:6-8 remind me of the kind of amazing God we serve, and it makes me want to be more like Him everyday:

Though he was God, 
he did not think of equality with God 
as something to cling to.

Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; 
he took the humble position of a slave
and was born as a human being.

When he appeared in human form, 
he humbled himself in obedience to God 
and died a criminal's death on a cross.