Incense

Prayer, at least my perception of it, has been changing lately. 


Maybe it’s because I was invited to be part of the prayer team at church. Or maybe it’s something new the Lord is doing in my life. 


Probably both. I’m not a believer in coincidences. 


This verse, in particular, has given me a new motivation for prayer:


And when he had taken it, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb. Each one had a harp and they were holding golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of God’s people.

Revelation 5:8


...golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of God’s people…


Now, I realize the book of Revelation can be confusing and intimidating, however, this imagery is beautiful! Our prayers become incense to honor the Lord.


I’ve known prayer serves multiple purposes, one of which is speaking with God. That in it of itself is a mighty purpose indeed! This verse reminds me that my prayers become part of a beautiful display of worship, along with my fellow believers. 


My prayers not only allow me connection with the Creator of the universe, but they are also an expression of worship.


To be honest, it makes me want to pray without ceasing (which, funny enough, we’re instructed to do) so I know there is an ample supply of incense in heaven. 


I want to be incensed. Not in the sense of rage, but so immersed in prayer that I become an incense supplier. Incense and incense are actually two different words (English is so confusing), but both from a Latin root word meaning “to set on fire.” You’re burning up either way, it just depends on whether it’s from a fire taking the form of an offering of prayer or anger. 


I’ll pick the fire.


Do you think our prayers all produce a similar aroma? Or do we each have our own unique scent? I hope it’s the second one. 


Let’s push to be incense suppliers, for our God deserves that and more.

Get Lit

We’ve listened to the song “Refiner” by Maverick City Music quite a bit in our house recently. 

You're a fire

The refiner

I wanna be consumed

I wanna be tried by fire

Purified

You take whatever you desire

Lord here's my life

 

One morning, while listening to this, I got a picture in my head of a singular candle. It represented the life of a believer. 

 

First, the spark of a match is lit to create a flame. This represents the initial pull toward the warmth of God’s love. Once we accept His love, the flame touches the wick. Just like with a brand new wick, it takes a little time for the flame of new belief to take hold and burn consistently. 

 

The scent turns into an aroma once the candle is lit and is so much more noticeable because of the flame. 

 

Once the wick catches, it can burn for a long time. Sure, there will be occasional disturbances, and the candle may even need a new match, but ultimately, once lit for the first time, it’s much more suited to continue burning and if necessary, be re-lit. 

 

This picture of an individual candle soon morphed into a candle shop, with rows and rows of shelves, fully stocked with every shape, size, and scent one could possibly imagine. All brand new and waiting to be lit for the first time.

 

It was as if those candles each represented a life. Some were labeled with long burning times, others were short-lived. 

 

As believers, we’re all candles. 

 

We’re each designed with our own unique makeup of materials resulting in an aroma only we can emit. Sure, we may have a similar scent to some people, but no two are the same.

 

The burn time relates to when in life a believer “gets lit.” Some have long burn times because they accept Jesus at a young age. Others have multiple wicks that cause them to burn through faster, but with more power. Some are more like tea candles, accepting at the very end. 

 

Either way, we have a God who is about the business of lighting His candles to bring light to the world. Sometimes, rather than a new match, He uses an already light candle to light a new one. Discipleship.

 

So, let’s get and stay lit, shall we? If you’ve never experienced what I’m talking about, please feel free to reach out to me! I’d love to talk more about this with you.

Dear 2020

Dear 2020,


What an intriguing character you’ve been. When we met in Pennsylvania in the Wilson living room, with a baby growing in my belly, I could not have guessed how you would have transpired.


If I’ve walked away with anything from our time together, it’s that my relationship with you has looked quite different than the one you’ve had with others. Where many experienced pain, heartache, fear, grief, loss, and lows, I experienced life. Where many felt beaten down by you, I felt like I was given an abundance of gifts and time. Don’t get me wrong, I felt some of those other things too, but life was more on my mind.


In the midst of the riots, racial conversations, and deaths from a pandemic, I was daily confronted with a LIFE! 


I heard someone describe you as “my covid year” (see this article). And though what I’ve written thus far sums you up well, for the sake of remembering, let’s chat a little more about who and what you were.


To start, you were the first year in a long time I did not see another country apart from the United States. The previous six included a variety of international experiences. Somehow, it seems fitting that rather than visiting another country, I grew a brand new human being instead. 


Fair trade and well played. 


You included one pandemic, two roommates, and several good-byes, one of which was permanent for this lifetime. You slowed us down and got us connected to our local church in a consistent way that we have not up to this point in our marriage, and I personally haven’t since college. You gave us the gift of community within minutes of us. 


In essence, you folded our traveling wings and created space and time for roots to grow. 


2020, I appreciate how you’re not a year I look back on and feel heavy, even burdened. I really think I got off easy with you. You held the beginning of parenthood and for that, I am forever grateful. 


Without living in the details too much, let’s think through things more chronologically.


One of the more noteworthy events was the passing of my dear Nini. The fact that I managed to make it to age 28 with four living grandparents is truly a gift of the story of my life. She had loved ones around her and ultimately passed away peacefully. 


I feel as though I lost my best prayer warrior, but somehow it’s OK because I know heaven gained a spectacular addition.


2020, your January also contained a childbirth preparation class (because, hello, anticipating birth is no joke and having all the information I could get was wildly helpful), a failed glucose test (gestational diabetes is not recommended), and a trip to Longboat Key Florida to celebrate Nini’s life in one of her favorite places.


As often happens with winter, January faded into February with a gestational diabetes education course at the beginning (they’ll really scare you by showing you insulin to begin with...perhaps the tactic worked because I managed it fine with diet and exercise...this student wanted an A on her blood sugar report card). There were other things like an open house at work which coincided with a unique sighting of several inches of snow in Georgia (so fun!), a visit from the Wilson family, and a baby bump photoshoot. 


I really was a cute pregnant lady, if I do say so myself.


Sprinkled throughout January and February was our Preparation for Parenting class. We met with four expecting couples (one shared our due date...the guy and I were in the same department at work and when people would ask pregnancy-related questions about his wife, he’d ask me how far along we were lol) and were led by some of our friends to talk through all things baby. It was very helpful to have a plan in regards to breastfeeding and sleeping! 


We also helped a little bit with one of the Perspective courses (the course on global missions) in the spring, though our involvement dwindled the closer we got to meeting our little man!


Then things took a turn. On March 2nd, I remember filling in for my supervisor in a meeting discussing this virus that had been popping up and the implications it might have. The president of the organization was involved, and he said something to the effect that the virus could mean nothing or it could change everything. It was unknown.


...right…


2020, your March was full, and you marched me through my final month of pregnancy with a baby shower to remember. So many of my favorite people were able to come to town to celebrate our upcoming baby boy. We had a full house, and the time was so sweet. 


I had no idea that weekend would be the last big gathering before quarantine began.


The last few weeks of work included fundraising training, helping bring almost 600 participants back from the field because of the virus, and shifting to working from home with the final day physically in the office being March 13th. I had no idea that would be my last consistent time in the office for the rest of 2020. 


Quarantine was ushered in after watching Survivor the next Wednesday night when President Trump announced we were in a national state of emergency. 


What a strange time to be nine months pregnant!


If I’m honest, I liked quarantine and being home more than I probably should have. Our worship leader at work facilitated worship in some form for nine weeks at the beginning of quarantine. We would turn on the livestream at the beginning of the work day. What a gift to start our days with worship! We also went on many walks. 


It was a sweet and simple time.


One unfortunate result of COVID was that there needed to be a lot of staff reduction at Adventures. I found out I would be induced on April 5th which meant that April 3rd was my last day of work before maternity leave...and I still was not sure whether my position or Ronny’s would be deemed essential. 


That conversation ended up happening about a week after Liam was born. 2020, that was kind of rude, I won’t lie. Fortunately, we both kept our jobs!


Regardless, April was baby month. After finishing work, that weekend I tried a number of things to naturally induce labor, including getting acquainted with my breast pump. Nothing worked and so we went to the hospital in the evening on April 5th to start the induction. Liam’s birth story was quite the ride and far longer than anticipated. 


The rest of April passed in a blur of C-section recovery (my first poop happened on Easter and I felt like my scar was ripping open...ugh), learning to breastfeed, adjusting to being responsible for a tiny life, a newborn photoshoot and baby snuggles. Ronny was able to take three weeks of paternity leave, and he was an absolute champ with helping care for both Liam and me. People were so kind to bring us food, and we used our glass storm door as the “Liam viewing area” since COVID made visits iffy.


2020, one thing I will say about you is you encourage family time. There’s is nothing quite like the grandparent’s anticipation of seeing their grandchild for the first time. The end of April and most of May included family visits. They kindly helped with house things like staining our deck and creating a firepit with payments of time with the little squishy boy, of course. I got to celebrate my first mother’s day too.


The arrival of June meant the end of maternity leave, but still working remotely, thank goodness. It was quite a transition, some of which included tears of stress. On one particular day, the majority of an afternoon was spent working with one participant applying last minute. While that proved to be one of the more stressful days of returning to work, it was redeemed by the fact that the participant came back for another trip and has been very connected to Ronny ever since. Pretty cool.


Other things for June included deciding to pursue a job change to a different department that felt like a better fit, our birthdays, replacing our heating and cooling system (praise the Lord), a date night, the final work days for many of staff, Ronny’s first father’s day, my brother and a friend beginning to date, and a visit from my mom.


2020, three of my favorite parts of your June included Liam beginning to sleep through the night, the fact that I submitted my first piece of writing to something other than my own blog (very exciting!), and the beginning of house church. A family, who we are now very close to, invited us to do church at their home. It was our first outing with Liam other than to the doctor’s, and was the beginning of what has become a sweet friendship.


Summer flew by after that. 2020, for being new parents, you certainly had us away from home more than I would have anticipated in the midst of a pandemic. We went to Myrtle Beach with the Wilsons for the 4th and saw many fireworks along the coast (probably my favorite firework display ever and the real event was cancelled!), had a three month photoshoot, and then headed to Michigan. We had a Jacobus and Baxter runion (we honored Nini with the Baxter side) and began doing some support meetings. 


Between Myrtle Beach and Michigan, we were only home for roughly a week in July and gone for a collective four weeks between July and August. Liam did well, but it was a lot.


August involved ending my time in my Sales role, and embracing early morning women’s prayer with our church on Thursdays. It was one of the hardest and best decisions as a night owl I’ve made, and I’ve been going ever since.


2020, by the time fall rolled around you brought me a new job starting September 1st, a kayak trip with the men from our church for Ronny, the chance to host a fun night for our small group involving making pretzels and mulled wine, and a trip to Pennsylvania where we did a Death Day Party (for you Harry Potter fans) for Ronny’s sister who has had to adjust so many things about her wedding that it got delayed until 2021. 


October meant a six month photoshoot with Liam, a phone call late one night from our friends asking if we could help them with their flooding apartment, and an unexpected week of them living with us. Incidentally, that same weekend, our friend who was preparing to move to Guatemala also moved in for a short season. It was a full house! 


We had a visit from our friends Christina and Nathan with their daughter, were able to celebrate a year of home ownership, had a surprise date night, and a quiet Halloween around our firepit. 


Squish was adorable as a pumpkin.


2020, if nothing else, we, ironically, got time with people.


November was full with Election Day, a baby shower for one of our church friends, my mom coming to visit, a week of orientation for new long-term missionaries (my first time in the office), and our 3rd anniversary.


We celebrated by taking our first overnight stay away from Liam at the St. Regis hotel. The description of “European elegance with southern hospitality” was quite accurate, and we had one of the best meals I’ve ever had. We may or may not have also gone out to dinner on the actual night of our anniversary too #gobigorgohome.


One thing I was not prepared for about you, 2020, was the good-byes. The apartment flooding resulted in Chris and Katherine moving sooner than anticipated, as in several months sooner. There were a few other good-byes in quick succession, but that one was definitely the hardest.


A virtual viewing of Maddie’s dance recital, the beginnings of trying chiropractic care, and Thanksgiving led us into the final stretch of your story, 2020. 


Miraculously, we got our Christmas tree on December 1st. Ronny went to a men’s retreat so I had Liam overnight by myself for the first time. We had our staff Christmas party.


Ronny and I BOTH randomly won the two flight vouchers in the raffle drawing. THANKS LORD!


Our church is getting us involved with Ronny auditioning for the worship team and me soon to be stepping into helping lead prayer ministry. We said good-bye to LeAnn who headed to Guatemala and Jake and Emily headed back to India.


For a year that so many wanted to end quickly, 2020, you squeezed in a few gems at the very end. We traveled to Pennsylvania and met Clara Brown on the way to DC (so good to see Kallie and Sam), Ronny officiated Allie and Matt’s marriage, we drove to Michigan, and ended the year getting ready for bed and looking at our sleeping boy.


Well, 2020, I said I wasn’t going to get detailed, but here we are. 


You were the year of pregnancy, quarantine, toilet paper and hand sanitizer and mask frenzies, birth, parenthood, LIAM, early morning prayer, bread-making, Gospel community, partnership development, pursuing new avenues of writing, and ultimately, a year of many firsts. 


My biggest takeaway, though, is that you represented the beginnings of parenthood. The pandemic provided the unique opportunity to begin that journey very much in partnership in a way Ronny and I might not have otherwise since we were both home. 


For that, and for Liam, I will be forever grateful.


Your chapter has closed. I pray everyone is still able to see some of your good qualities, even if they didn’t get to see the same side of you I did. 


Love,

Casey

Word

Word.


The Word.


We’re encouraged to be in it. By believing in and being in relationship with Jesus, His Word is our spiritual sustenance. It is where we confidently find comfort, instruction, perspective, encouragement and so much more.


If I’m honest, I am not one of those people who naturally loves scripture. I know it’s important, in fact, vital, but my interaction with it has been scattered. My connection with the Lord feels deepest when I spend time with Him in nature or writing in my journal. 


But I need the Word too. Every day.


I’ll do a Bible study, but I find that I glean so much more when the study is a specific book of the Bible rather than topical (She Reads Truth has provided some good direction if you’re ever looking for some help yourself or He Reads Truth if you’re a guy). My interaction with scripture is seasonal with where I’m invested. I’ve had seasons where each verse I read provides so much insight, whereas in other seasons it’s been tough to get myself to open my Bible at all. 


Worth noting: there is a strong correlation with when I am in community with other people who are also invested in the Word and how consistent I am with reading it.  Community helps me maintain accountability and makes me want to be in the Word more. Have you experienced that? 


Someone I knew once made a comment about how they never want to spend more time on social media than reading their Bible.


Woof. Well played.


One discipline I’ve been doing for a while is to read something from the Word every day. If circumstances cause me to need to do so from my phone, well, that’s better than nothing, but my goal is to physically open my Bible.


In a world where we are losing touch with the tangible in favor of all things digital, the discipline of feeling the physical weight of my Bible as I open it to read it helps the process feel so intentional. Phones are convenient but the use of them does not feel like it gives the time in scripture the importance it deserves, at least for me. I want to be intentional with that time rather than relying on convenience whenever I can help it. It’s an added bonus that by reading my physical Bible I am spending less time on a screen!


To conclude, I want to encourage you with two verses that have stuck with me the past few weeks (the irony is not lost on me that I’m giving topical verses when my own interaction with the Bible is best served reading one book thoroughly):


Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

John 14:27


And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philipians 4:7


So, what can be concluded from both of these? We are given peace as a gift, and that peace is directly correlated with our hearts. Jesus can be trusted to protect our hearts. We just need to stay connected to the one who is kind enough to provide peace, but really is so much more than that.


And how do we maintain a consistent connection to the Giver of peace?


The Word.


Word.


The First Christmas Lights

What a busy time!

Inn, who stood nearby, was swarming with travelers. On our sleepy street, this was something of a novelty. 


The two-legs were on the move.


Meanwhile, inside my warm interior, things were beginning to feel more cramped as well. The four-legs who carried the two-legs on their journeys were sheltering with our usual company. I could sense their anxiety of the new place and did my best to keep them warm and safe.


As the four-legs were brought to me, I heard snatches of conversation with words I did not understand. Census. Caesar. That one was mentioned often. Whatever the words meant, it seemed clear to me that they were the reason the two-legs were seemingly multiplying.


One evening, it was late and the four-legs were settling down to sleep, quiet at last.


Suddenly I heard voices. More like murmurs. Yet another group of two-legs passing by.


I didn’t think much of it until they stopped at my gate, and I felt a hand working the latch.


What was going on?


The two-leg who sheltered in Inn was leading two others, one of whom had a very large belly. At least, I think that’s what you call it.


Apologetically, the Inn two-leg offered my interior to these two.


I was shocked. I’d never had two-legs as guests. Sure, the occasional one to care for the four-legs, but never just because they needed a place to sleep. Even more than this, I know how much my friend, Inn, values hospitality. If he didn’t have room, things must have been very full. He would be devastated to turn anyone away.


I felt the four-legs stir uncertainly as the pair moved in and began to settle. The one with the belly began to moan. 


Something was wrong. It went on for hours. I’d heard the four-legs sound like this but never a two-leg.


Then suddenly, it was over.


I heard a soft coo.


And then the most wondrous thing happened. I felt myself filled with the sweetest presence. Peace, I think it’s called.


Something incredible had transpired. Somehow, I just knew that the coo was connected to a significant two-leg. A brand new, fragile two-leg. 


The realization that something so significant had happened with me as the shelter made me feel self-conscious. I would have tried to clean up and prepare better had I known! 


As if in answer, I felt a bright light shine on my roof. It warmed me much as the sweet presence inside had. 


I’d seen lights like this in the sky, but never this stunning. It was hanging above where I stood and gave me courage. My worries about having not prepared vanished. The new bright light above would be my decoration. 


My light would later bring excited two-legs who tended the fluffy, four-legs. Sheep, I think. Other exotic two-legs came, with sparkling jewels and gifts for the new, and rapidly-growing two-leg. Baby. Jesus. King. Those words were said often.


Through it all, I stood proudly, knowing that little me was given the gift of being the scene of one of the most significant events in history. I learned later that the baby went on to become the Savior of the world. He came in humble, little me and died a humiliating death. Remarkably, He rose again to defeat death.


His story is incredible. And the event that happened with me as the shelter when He was born? They later called it Christmas. 


Over time, Christmas had many pieces added to it, decorations included, but I’ll never forget:


My light, star, they called it, was the first real Christmas light ever hung. 


Ushered In

We have been ushered into the throne room.


What an invitation!


In my vision at night I looked, and there before me was one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven. He approached the Ancient of Days and was led into his presence. He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshiped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed.


Daniel 7:13-14


He approached God and was led into his presence.


It suggests that the King knew Him, was expecting Him, and welcomed Him. 


Because Jesus has Himself been led into the Father’s presence, He has paved the way for us to be ushered in as well.


Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.


Hebrews 4:16


The invitation is already there. We can confidently come to the throne and know we will get what we need.



...he leads me beside quiet waters.


Psalm 23:2B



Not only does He lead us to Himself, He leads us to places of peace. For me, that is quiet waters.



In the midst of a busy season, where is He leading you to be in His presence and experience His everlasting peace?



Know you have already been ushered in by the King of kings.


Hidden Vineyards

Vineyards appear in the Bible. Jesus uses them as a means of teaching through parables with references to being connected to the vine, good fruit, and the like.


They demonstrate life rhythms. Seasons come. Seeds are planted, fruit grows, the harvest arrives. Rest. Each crop is different, influenced by the conditions of the year it grows. 


Wine is often discussed with the question, “Was it a good year?” 


The taste, quality, and essence of the wine change. No two years are alike. Some are superb, the result of the ideal conditions. Great temperature, good rain, happy soil, and so forth. Some struggle. Frost comes too early. Temperatures are too hot. 


Was it a good year?


Can’t we ask the same question of our lives? 


What if each year we live was actually a hidden vineyard we get to discover with the Lord?


Were there challenges that arose? Is this a year we want to finish and not spend too much time remembering or tasting? Was it a year full of abundance that we cannot seem to get enough? 


The cellars of our lives collect many bottles of wine, each with their own unique taste. We would not be able to recognize just how great the good years are if not for some of the bad, but regardless, each is part of the collection that makes up the years of life we’ve gotten to live. Each has a place and should be remembered...just maybe with fewer bottles saved from those harder years. 


I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.

John 15: 1-11


Therefore abide. Regardless of your circumstances, trust that the Lord is bottling a unique wine for the year you’re living. Abide in Him. If you haven’t considered it recently, go visit your vineyard...maybe there’s a bit more to discover for this year that’s been hidden for a while. 


Oh and here’s something just for fun! If you could create a wine label for the year 2020, what would the slogan and picture be? Leave a comment with your best idea!


What Kind of Light?

I often go on walks. They seem to be a time when I can get my mind clear enough for the Lord to speak. Perhaps it has something to do with the idea that an active body creates space for a less occupied mind.


This morning, while walking around a park near where we live, I passed through a patch of sunlight. Considering it was below 40 degrees, the warmth of the sun was a welcome change from the frigidity of the crisp, morning air. 


It got me thinking about how the Bible mentions bringing things to the light. But my question is:


What kind of light?


Is it a sterile, hospital, florescent sort of light that exposes flaws or is it a warm, inviting light that provides warmth while illuminating areas of improvement?


In short, what kind of voice accompanies the light? The Father’s or the enemy’s?


If something needs to be uncovered, and thus brought into the light, there should be two characteristics present:


  1. The kindness and warmth of it is what will lead us to confess. In other words, guilt and condemnation are not the motivators.


Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God's kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?

Romans 2:4


  1. It connects us to the Father and each other rather than creating distance.


But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.

1 John 1:7


Going back to my walk, the path gives plenty of views of the lake. Have you ever noticed how the mist over water on a cold morning gently travels towards the sun and when it reaches the beams, it slowly drifts upward?


I think that is a beautiful picture of what our sin can look like. We are pulled toward the Son and when we get into His presence, He gently asks for our confession and receives it to the point of it no longer being visible any more. 


Just as mist disappears in the light of the sun, so too does our sin in His light.


The illumination of the light of the sun and Son not only bring sin into view, but also show great things in our lives as well. This light is not exposing.


So, choose your light. Choose illumination and warmth rather than exposure and cold, both for yourself and those around you.

Village Culture

It takes a village.


Raising a child is not just the work of the parents. It’s the work of a village. 


The older my son gets, the more I understand this concept. 


Parents need help from their community. What I’ve realized more recently is that they create and set the culture of the “village” around their child. 


Yes, that can look like bigger things such as what your child eats, who they spend time with, how much interaction they have with screens, etc etc.


But it can also show up in little ways.


When Liam was a few days old, we had pictures taken for the grandparents (and us) since no one could visit right away with the pandemic happening. Our photographer referred to Liam as the squishy boy.


The name stuck.


We use it often, to the point where he hears “squish” or “da squish” more than his given name. 


Others have started calling him “squish” as well. Some have adapted it to “squishy.”


It warms my heart every time.


What a small yet profound example of creating culture. 


For those of you with kids (or just friends), what does the culture of the village around you look like? Is there anything you need to change or add?


Why Pumpkin Spice Lattes Cause Such a Craze

Seasons. 


Nature demonstrates natural rhythms for us to model. Trees do not always have buds or green leaves or colorful leaves or no leaves at all. They bear their fruit in time and carry on throughout other seasons.


Even fruits and vegetables, in their prime, grace grocery stores at specific points throughout the year. There’s a reason people get so excited about Pumpkin Spice Lattes (Pumpkin Cream Cold Brews are vastly superior in my opinion) because they are only around for a particular season. When we try to buy things out of season, they are simply not as good or are not even available. It’s not their time.


Interestingly enough, only one out of four seasons bears fruit. 


That feels really freeing. 


The majority of the time isn’t meant to bear fruit. Other things are going on. 


He is like a tree

    planted by streams of water

that yields its fruit in its season,

    and its leaf does not wither.

In all that he does, he prospers.

Psalm 1:3


I’ve been meditating on this part of the verse for a few weeks now:


“That yields its fruit in its season.”


Beautiful. 


Simple.


A tree does not try to yield fruit in every season, just in the right season. 


So should we. Not every season is meant to yield an abundance of fruit. Some seasons, like winter, may feel like nothing at all is happening, when in actuality, so much is happening unseen.


Are you content with waiting on your season? Are you in a season of yielding? Are you trying to reach into a season of bearing fruit that is not yet in season for you?


Why Ancestry DNA is So Popular

Ancestry DNA is highly popular these days. Have you noticed?


There are ads on television, people give it as gifts, all with the desire to know more about where they came from and their family’s origin.


In other words, what they really want to know is:


Who am I?


We all want to know the answer to that. Who am I? Where did I come from? What makes me noteworthy in this big world with years of history? What’s my place in all of it?


During a prayer meeting, we were going through Psalm 47, and this verse jumped out:


He chose our heritage for us, the pride of Jacob, whom he loves. 

Psalm 47:4 


Are heritage and identity the same thing? I tend to think heritage is a portion of our identity.


It’s incredibly freeing to think God gave us our identity. He chose our heritage for us when He chose us to be His children. Even as more people discover their family origins through things like Ancestry DNA, our heavenly Father holds all the answers. 


He gave us the ultimate identity by calling us His children.


What a gift of a heritage!


Opposing Magnets

Do you remember those times in elementary sciences classes when you’d get to play with magnets? I recall watching classmates try so hard to push opposing magnets together, with no success.

Diametrically opposed.

This is an accurate description for flesh and spirit. Much like the musical Hamilton mentions “diametrically opposed foes” when describing Hamilton’s encounter with Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, a piece of the human experience is this clear opposition between our fleshly, sinful nature, and the nature of Holy Spirit. Both exist within us but cannot manifest through our actions at the same time.

It shows up in so many ways from how we interact with other people, to our times alone, to our thoughts - truly every aspect of our existence. 

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

Romans 7: 15-20

So relatable. I have moments where I think and plan to do or say one thing, but the very opposite comes out...and let’s just say that what comes out leans to the fleshly side, like anger, rather than the spirit side, like grace. Thank you, Paul, for putting into words an experience I regularly encounter! 

I’ve noticed this come up quite frequently in the area of truth. The truth of what you know about God through His word sometimes feels like it comes in opposition to how we feel and interpret our experiences. We can be so quick to doubt His goodness and character!

Which brings us back to the idea of opposing magnets. When similar charges (two positives, for instance) are pushed together, they repel. Our spirit and flesh are both within us, thus the same charge type, but they cannot co-exist. No matter how hard you try to push them together, they will never attract one another.

So the question is, which one are you yielding to?

Cheek to Cheek

Cheek to cheek. 

What an intimate posture to have with another person. To be so close that your cheeks are touching.

Someone mentioned being cheek to cheek with the Father in heaven on a regular basis. 

What would that look like?

It’s something I’ve been pondering lately. What do I need to do in life to put myself that close to the Lord?

Is it creating time for rest? Is it changing a routine? Is it adding or subtracting something from my life? What is it?

Ultimately, proximity of that nature is indicative of intimacy. 

That’s what I want. I want to be so close to the Lord that our cheeks are touching. He is always around, He’s always that close. I just need to change my perspective and embrace His loving presence.

Any ideas?

Why Baking Bread is an Act of Trust

Here’s something I’ve been mulling over the past few days:

Is it possible to both trust and have control?

In other words, if you’re fully in control, are you really trusting? 

For me, in this season, and honestly all the time, the answer is no. To trust means to give up control.

It has felt like I’ve been in a season with one big wave of decisions and transitions after the other. I’ve found myself feeling incredibly exhausted, bracing for the next big thing and often anticipating something bad is what’s on the horizon, though the reality is many good things have and are coming. 

Between the waves, I’ve been trying to grasp for control in any way I can and finding myself coming up short. It’s as if I’m holding a massive fistful of helium balloons and just when I think I have a firm grasp, one starts to drift away. And it just keeps happening.

Control.

That’s what I want. I think it’s fair to say that everyone wants control of their life in some form or fashion, it might just look different between people.

It’s got me asking the question, “Why is it so important for me to stay in control?”

The answer lies in the bad connotation being out of control brings.

As I’ve slowly been coming to an acceptance of being out of control (because really, all of these big decisions and transitions can be summed up as life) it’s made me consider the positive side of being out of control.

Seasons changing - time passes regardless of my influence.  Wow I love fall!

People - they get to decide how they feel and what they’re going to do and what they think.

Pregnancy - growing a human life is entirely out of the woman’s control, and honestly, thank goodness because I might have forgotten to give Liam some essential things were it up to me to keep up with his development as he grew in my belly.

Baking bread - when yeast and living things are involved, there is a whole lot out of your control. (I’ve gotten into baking recently and didn’t even know it was a thing many people have done as a result of the pandemic. My inspiration is the Great British Baking Show.)

There are countless more. It’s been an encouraging thought journey to embrace. Being out of control does not have to be a bad thing. It opens the door for many, many good things.

So, trust. More specifically, trust in the Lord. I’m regularly handing the “control” I think I have back to Him who proves Himself to be trustworthy again and again and again.

Where in your life do you need to relinquish control and choose trust? 

If you need time to think, go bake some bread. I mean, why not? It’s a good way to put yourself in a place of trust. If you do, send me pictures because it’s fun!

Save the Caterpillars

A few weeks ago, I was sweeping leaves off of our driveway. Fall is here! Can I get an amen?!

As I was collecting one batch, I looked down and noticed a caterpillar had almost gotten caught in my pile. 

My immediate thought upon seeing the little creature was this: 

We need to save the caterpillars!

OK, so that wasn’t the exact initial thought. At first, I thought about how a dead caterpillar means the loss of a future butterfly. If caterpillars are not able to make it to the cocoon and transformation phase, they never get to come out the other side as beautiful butterflies.

Save the caterpillars for the sake of the butterflies.

It got me thinking about people. If we do not look on people with grace and see them for the potential they have, if we dismiss them as beyond hope or help, we miss the opportunity to see them transform. 

Paul, in the Bible, would be a good example. If all anyone saw was Saul, we wouldn’t have a large portion of the New Testament.

The Lord saw him for who He could be and loved him in both seasons.

I think caterpillars and sinners could be used interchangeably. Everyone needs grace before the Lord saves them (and even afterwards, because His mercies are new each morning). 

If sinners were dismissed, they would never join the ranks of the saved. They would never get to experience the transformative power of grace. What a gift that the Lord does not leave the decision of who should or should not be saved and when or how up to us humans! We’re not trustworthy enough to handle that. 

To return to the initial discussion, we need to save the caterpillars. They need to have the chance to transform into butterflies.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away, behold the new has come.

2 Corinthians 5:17

Much like caterpillars become something entirely new, we are new creations once Jesus has gotten ahold of us. Our process could be described as sinners saved by grace, but the Lord doesn’t stop there. We shed that identity to become his children. A butterfly is not still considered a caterpillar after its transformation, therefore, we should consider ourselves new creations, children of God. 

What a gift. 

Remember, save the caterpillars. It’s the only way we’ll get butterflies.

Emotions Do Not Make An Identity

I am sad.

I am afraid.

I am angry.

I am happy.

I am excited.

We say or think statements like these regularly. It’s a natural part of conversation and connecting with others, a way to express our experience.

But does it have to be our identity?

Think about it: by making a statement like that, you’re declaring you ARE one of those emotions. 

But it isn’t true.

You might be experiencing the emotion or feeling it deeply (or denying to yourself that you even feel emotions) in a particular moment, but it does not define you. 

What if we changed how we talked about emotions? 

I am feeling sad.

I am feeling afraid.

I am feeling angry.

I am feeling happy.

I am feeling excited.

Emotions are indicators something else is going on inside us. Maybe we’re angry because we’ve been hurt. Maybe we’re excited because something we have been waiting for finally happened. We can use them to help us process and understand, but they are not necessarily trustworthy to reflect truth and fact. Yes, it’s true you’re feeling angry, but why are you feeling angry? Is a misunderstanding? Is it a misperception of something? Is there something that legitimately requires attention to correct?

Emotions tell us what our current perception is. They are valid to feel, but what we do with the awareness (or lack thereof) of our emotions matters the most.

Which brings me back to identity. Our emotions are not who we are. 

By disconnecting emotions with our identity, it frees us up to more honestly and objectively evaluate our emotional experience. It no longer becomes about putting your identity on the line. Your identity is set. It was claimed when Christ died on the cross for you. So let’s change our language. Let’s call them what they are: a feeling in the moment (or season). Let’s allow the Lord to use emotions that come up to guide us to become more of who He wanted us to be and more deeply connected to those around us. 

Emotions do not make an identity, and what a relief that is!

So, what emotions are you experiencing this week? What kind of relationship do you have with emotions? Do you see them as weak and untrustworthy? Are they identities you take on unintentionally? How could you use them to draw you into a deeper connection with the Father in heaven?

They Are Watching

Here’s a cute story with a simple yet profound lesson:

Recently, we’ve begun feeding Liam, our five-month-old, cereal several times a day. Those first few times were a struggle. Learning how to open your mouth, receive a spoon, and resisting the tongue thrust reflex to push the food back out with your tongue are all difficult things! We are very clearly not born knowing how to do them.

As the weeks have progressed, clear improvement has taken place, to the point where Liam sits with his mouth open to signal he is ready for his next bite. He understands his hands need to stay down and away from the spoon (with occasional reminders, of course) and the eating cereal experience has become much more pleasant all around, for the feeder and eater alike. 

The other evening, Ronny (my husband) and I were sharing some dairy-free ice cream (any other breastfeeding moms try to cut out dairy too?). We were passing the spoon back and forth, or rather, I was getting bites and handing them to Ronny as he lay on the couch with Liam on his chest.

During one of the handoffs, I looked up to see Liam sitting with his mouth open, waiting for a bite. 

It was adorable.

Also, it was incredible to realize that even though words are not part of his abilities yet, he is still able to ask for something. Human development is wild.

One thing stuck out to me about the interaction. Apart from being one of the cutest and sweetest things he’s done, it reminded me that he is watching. He is capable of learning and is watching us as he learns. 

Countless times throughout the day I’ll look over and find he’s been staring at me without my being aware.

He is watching. 

So the question becomes, what is he seeing? 

What am I, as his parent, demonstrating in my day-to-day activities that he is learning from? My hope is most of those things are good, but I’m certain I could improve (and will always be in that process). 

Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it. 

Proverbs 22:6

More often than not, that training is done unintentionally, in moments when you’re not even aware you’re teaching your child something. They’re watching. What is it that they’re learning as they watch?

For those non-parents out there, this goes beyond influencing a child. What is your influence? Who are you influencing? When people are watching, what are they learning from and about you? This idea really applies to all of us. 

Let’s be the type of people who carry a positive influence.

The Stranger in the Throne Room

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The soft sounds of her sandaled footsteps magnified as they bounced around the marbled space.

She had come seeking the King. There was a matter she wanted to discuss, several really, and felt it must be done in person.

The journey had been long and arduous. Several others set out with her at the beginning, but their resolve broke. It was too hard, and they decided their need to see the King was really not so urgent after all. Or maybe just not worth the required effort.

Still, she persisted.

She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she left. It seemed like days ago when she had first glimpsed the temple, but it was so far off.

Yet, here she was, having finally made it.

The refreshing cool of the temple structure was a relief from the scorching sun that had been her constant companion on the journey.

She felt herself breathe a sigh of relief.

Miraculously, no other soul was to be found.

The realization brought her back to the reality of why she came. Steeling herself, she prepared to speak with the King, taking stock of the points she had meticulously put together to help the King see reason. 

His reputation was known to be tough. Many said he was about justice. Intimidating.

Without consciously being aware, her feet, as if they’d been there before and had a mind of their own, brought her to the entrance of what could only be the throne room.

The massive, ornate doors were intricately carved. 

Taking a deep breath, she pushed one open, cringing at the resounding creak that echoed down the long corridor.

The room was spectacular in its simplicity. What captivated her attention was the throne. With eyes fixed forward, she slowly and quietly approached it, as if compelled by some unseen force.

It took a moment for her to register how both the room, and more importantly the throne, were unoccupied. 

“How could that be?” she wondered. “The King always sits on his throne. What happened? Why would he abandon his post when I need him?”

“Are you looking for something?”

Startled, she spun around to see the speaker. Upon seeing he was no threat, her feelings of alarm transformed into confusion over his question. She was in the throne room. Why else would she be there but to see the King?

“I’m looking for the King.”

“Is there something I can help you with?” the stranger gently prompted.

She considered the man for a moment. His age was hard to identify, and he was dressed in a plain tunic. Truth be told, he was quite physically unremarkable.

Except for his eyes.

There was a kindness there she hungered for.

Suddenly, she found she’d forgotten why she’d come to see the King in the first place. The hurts and injustices she’d felt so deeply, to the point of driving her to make this journey, melted away. 

All she was left with now was a deep ache. Almost as soon as she felt it, it occurred to her that the ache, not the hurts and frustrations, was what propelled her to take action. Those other things had served as her shields. She desperately wanted to talk to her King, little, humble woman that she was.

As if understanding her perusal and knowing what had transpired in her mind, he said,

“Tell me, child, what’s troubling you?”

In a rush of tears and words, she poured out her heart, those kind eyes providing all the invitation she needed to share her worries and confess her shortcomings.

Finally replete, she wiped away her tears with a sniff, embarrassment washing over her, she mumbled,

“I really just wanted to talk to the King. I know he’s a busy man, and I am nobody, but that’s what I wanted.”

She sounded like a child even to her own ears.

“I am he who you seek.”

Confused, she looked into the stranger’s eyes again, saw the truth there, and her own eyes widened in wonder.

“I’ve never abandoned you. I came to you like this because I knew you didn’t need a majestic king. I made preparations while you journeyed here. You may stay and talk as long as you like. Follow me this way…”

He turned to a door she hadn’t noticed leading out of the throne room.

“I have food and water to satisfy your needs. More than you need, in fact, but mostly, I want you to know something.”

He paused.

“I love you, and I am honored to be your King.”

At those words, she was undone. All the years of pain, the many, many steps mentally, emotionally, and physically to get there, the fears...it all faded away, to be replaced by a blissful peace.

And with that, she followed him.

Little Puzzle Piece

We are puzzle pieces.

A strange thing to say, but it’s true. 

Ever wondered what your purpose is? Or struggled with your identity? Or wonder where your life fits into the bigger picture in relation to the people around you?

I’ve had moments of this in different seasons and for different reasons. 

Recently the Lord compared my purpose and identity to a puzzle piece (I love doing puzzles so this made a lot of sense to me, anyone else?). 

When solving a puzzle, it usually takes a few moments of trial and error (or many depending on the piece) to find the right fit. Each piece is unique in that its shape and part of the bigger picture only fit in one place. Sure, some of the pieces have similar shapes and looks, but only one fits in each particular location.

So it is with who we are. People come in all shapes and sizes, and some fall into similar categories, but no two people are the same. Some figure out where they fit, and have a clearly defined purpose, like an edge piece, early on, whereas some are a bit trickier, requiring more time, more attempts, and more patience to land in the right spot. Neither is wrong. In fact, both are beautiful because, without any particular piece, the picture of the puzzle would not be complete.

All this to say, if you have struggled (and let’s face it, we all do in some way at some point) to feel valued or like what you bring to the table is truly necessary, know this:

Without you, there would be a hole. You are necessary, and the picture would not be complete without you.

Be encouraged, you little puzzle piece.

Kingdom Prescription

Have you ever had a challenging season or circumstance you just can’t seem to shake? Somehow it seems to impact you in small or big ways far longer than you ever thought possible?

Yeah, me too. 

I’ve had a few of those and was chatting with the Lord about one recently. He shared an interesting thought with me:

You need to get your Kingdom prescription checked.

Interesting. 

We live in a physical world with bodies that need regular check-ups to make sure everything is working properly. Our eyes are no different. As we age (and I see the irony in me writing this as a 20-something who does not yet need glasses), we have to get our eyes checked, prescription evaluated, and lenses adjusted to help our eyesight stay clear.

If we have physical eyes, then it’s safe to say we have spiritual eyes - Kingdom eyes - that require Kingdom lenses to help as we age. These lenses are given to help believers be capable of seeing Kingdom work, the work God is doing here on Earth that He so graciously invites us to be part of even in our imperfections. If our physical eyes need to be checked, why would our spiritual eyes, our Kingdom eyes, not need the same care? We will not get through life with the same pair of lenses, physically or spiritually. 

We can put on so many different lenses that we use to filter our experience with the world through: joys, hurts, skewed perspectives, relationships, life circumstances, and general humanity. Maybe the lenses we see the world through have become clouded because we walked through a challenging life season out of our control. Or maybe the lenses got dirty from our own sinful choices. Or maybe we took our Kingdom lenses off entirely because we were hurt by believers. Or maybe we’ve complicated our faith and need to return to the simplicity of a more childlike perspective.

Whatever the case may be, as life comes our way, our Kingdom eyes experience changes in prescription, resulting in the need for updated lenses. Sometimes I think we need a new set entirely because we need to be refreshed.

I’ve heard it said that our eyes are a gateway to our souls. To extend that on a deeper level, I think the lens we view the world through is a gateway to the health of our Kingdom perspective.

For me, I’ve become aware of needing a new prescription for how I look on “suffering.” Suffering can take on many forms and unexpected suffering can be a tough pill to swallow. Am I able to look on suffering gladly, knowing it might be done for the sake of the Kingdom? That’s the conversation which sparked this whole concept.

So, when was the last time you got your Kingdom eyes checked? Is there anything you need to do to your current lenses to help you see the Kingdom more clearly? Do you need to take off a certain pair of lenses, like bitterness, you put on to replace it with your Kingdom lenses? Have you misplaced your lenses?

Either way, consider this your invitation to get your Kingdom prescription checked. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what it looks like to get a Kingdom prescription update, but I know Who I need to spend time with to figure it out. He’s always there, waiting to remind us we are loved, and He has a perspective that far surpasses our understanding. All we need to do is ask for a check-up.