Ann Voskamp's Blog, page 182

how to love better — by loving yourself more

With the new year ahead and full of potential, what might it look like for us to love bigger than ever before?  Jessica Turner is a veritable expert in looking for pockets of time & for ways to love well:  She works full-time in marketing, writes regularly on her lifestyle blog, mothers her three beautiful young children, yet still finds time each day for using her gifts in life-giving ways. Jessica has been a kindred friend for more than six years — she’s taught me so much about giving with joy & loving upside down & deeply — and it’s a humble joy to learn from her needful journey of  The Fringe Hours: Making Time for You and its beautiful companion My Fringe Hours: Discovering a More Creative and Fulfilled Life… an honor to cheer her on and a grace to welcome Jessica to the farm’s front porch today….

Click here to Listen to Today’s Post Read By Today’s Guest by Jessica Turner

http://www.aholyexperience.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/20160113-073755.mp3

guest post and photos by Jessica Turner

On the second day of this brand new year, we threw a party for my son Ezra who’d just turned 1.

Metallic streamers and three-dimensional gold stars hung all over the dining room to celebrate “twinkle, twinkle little star, he’s grown so much and come so far.”

I’ve always loved stars and throwing a star-themed party was a bit of a dream for me. Plus, it was meaningful to think about Ezra’s life and how God will use him to shine bright, just like the stars.

About 20 friends joined us that morning and all of our kids were running amuck around the house.

French toast and star-topped cupcakes surely contributed to the chaos.

Amid the mayhem, a dear friend shared her pain, there in my kitchen. The joy of the occasion couldn’t prevent her hurt from breaking through.

As we filled plastic cups with juice, my friend talked about the miscarriage she had experienced six months earlier and how she still cried about it often.

How her husband was tired of her crying.

How she was going to start attending a support group to seek comfort.

How she yearned for another child.

I just stood there, listening, the rest of the party fading away. I grasped for words, but none came, so I just hugged her tight and said that I loved her.

When the party was over and in the days that followed, I thought about my friend.

Not only did I think about her circumstances, but I thought about how in recent months I had not been the friend that she needed.

In Mark 12 Jesus shares the the two most important commandments – to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength and to love your neighbor as yourself.

I think we probably remember the love the Lord part.

And we likely remember the love your neighbor part, too. But that as yourself part—those are the words we forget.

 

Last year was incredibly hectic for my family and me.

I released two books and had baby #3.

My husband traveled for six weeks overseas.

I worked full-time and blogged.

In the end, too many responsibilities prevented me from loving myself well. I over-yesed myself and ran on empty for most of the year.

Consequently, when my friend had a miscarriage, I spoke with her and texted during those first hard weeks, but then I became distracted. Part of why I couldn’t love her to the best of my ability was because I wasn’t loving myself during that season.

I didn’t have the capacity I needed. I was exhausted and busy. Too busy.

The irony is that I believe unequivocally that practicing self-care needs to be a top priority for women.

I wrote two books about it. Yet, in sharing that message with the world, I lost sight of it myself.

Jesus knew that our self-care wasn’t just about us. Loving ourselves has a positive ripple effect on our families, our neighbors, our communities and the world.

We are the body of Christ. We belong to one another and desperately need one another’s love. But that starts with the way we love ourselves.

Just think of what the world would look like if we really embraced Jesus’s commandment.

If we started exercising and took control of our eating habits.

If we made time to be creative.

If we spent time in the Word.

We would be healthier.

We would be happier.

We would love our neighbors better.

We wouldn’t neglect our friends when they are going through painful seasons, too wrapped up in our own busyness.

Instead, we would be able to radically love the way Jesus has called us to do.

This new year is already looking different for me. I chose the word SLOW as my word for the year and I am embracing it deeply.

I have turned down work opportunities and not over-scheduled myself.

I have made room for a Bible study and book club.

I have already had lunch with three different friends, and several more dates are on the books.

And while slow might be my word, that doesn’t mean days aren’t going to be full and sometimes messy.

That’s not how life works—all of us know that firsthand. Three kids to parent, 9-5s to report to, meals to make, laundry to fold and the list goes on.

Yet, in each day, fringe hours can be found. Those bits that might be missed or wasted all together can be redeemed for beautiful, soul-filling hobbies and habits.

When we redeem those hours, life-change happens.  Beauty is found.  Friendships are nurtured.

We are the best versions of the people God created us to be.

As you embark on a new year, consider these questions:

Who do you want to be?
What are those giftings you have?
When are your fringe hours each day?
Who do you want to serve?
What do you want those ripples to look like?

May this year, you embrace with renewed commitment Jesus’s commandment to love your neighbor as yourself.

Because in the end, most of us will do just that.

And don’t we all want our love to be big and bright?

 

Jessica Turner is the founder of the popular lifestyle blog The Mom Creative, where she documents her pursuit of cultivating a life well-crafted. Additionally, she is a writer for DaySpring’s (in)courage, an advocate for World Vision, a speaker at conferences nationwide, and an award-winning marketing professional. 

Jessica’s books The Fringe Hours: Making Time for You and My Fringe Hours: Discovering a More Creative and Fulfilled Life are a gift for every woman who struggles with finding time to do the things she loves and practice self-care. These practical books are the permission slips so many women today need, and will have you saying yes to sharing your creative gifts again.

Find The Fringe Hours: Making Time for You on your kindle for just $1.99 through Saturday, January 16. And might I suggest to also pick up the beautiful companion book My Fringe Hours to work through the questions and exercises? Together you’ll be equipped for a lifetime of loving your neighbors well.

when you just want your family to be safe in a crazy world

… It’s a bit of a crazy world & what does brave faith look like in the middle of hard, unexpected realities? So I’ve been sitting with this book, The Gentle Art of Discipling Women, and Dana Yeakley explains that being an authentic disciple of Jesus springs from grasping four foundational realities: forgiveness received and offered to others; confidence that we are safe throughout our days; our ability to access our heavenly Father and hear His voice; and the assurance that we are becoming all that God has designed for us. It’s a grateful grace to welcome Dana to the farm’s front porch today…

guest post by Dana Yeakley

This day was not like other days.

The sun was ablaze.

We had been experiencing overwhelming heat in the midst of a long-term drought.

Our one-month-old garden and landscape was greening up and flourishing thanks to our vast sprinkler systems, but on this day as I prepared to go spend some time with our two grandsons I noticed an orange twinge in the air outside. The smell of smoke and an incandescent haze seem to come from the west of us.

I did not hear sirens.

I thought, something is burning somewhere.

As I drove to our son’s home to pick up the boys, I caught sight of the problem. Just over the ridge of the foothills, massive flames were spewing up and out of the canyon.

No sirens yet.

When I picked up the boys from their neighbors, they went ballistic at the sight of the blaze shooting up. We huddled close in the driveway, and I prayed that God would take care of us, their parents, their neighbors, and their friends.

“Jesus, keep us all safe.”

Still feeling somewhat stunned we went back into their neighbors’ home and sat with them, viewing the “live” report: “Not under control. Not sure how it started. Firefighters are having a difficult time getting to this fire.”

Not sure?

Still no sirens?

Two days and nights passed. The fire, still not contained, began to spread to areas around the canyon. Fire commanders and their teams were working night and day to keep the surrounding communities safe. But an uncanny sense of doom filled the conversations and posture of those of us who lived there.

Three days after this fire started it went out of control. It blew up and out of the canyon and over the foothills toward our homes.

At last we heard sirens.

We evacuated. The scene was apocalyptic. The billowing clouds of smoke were stained a luminescent blood orange as they descended over our neighborhoods.

I am grateful that my husband was out of the country. Normally, I would count on Tom during moments like these.

But instead, as the fire made its way toward our home, Christ’s inner presence gave an ability to move in quiet strength as I faced multiple decisions and interactions.

I was bolstered with a strong sense of courage.

We were now members of a broad community given orders to evacuate. After a several decisive discussions via cell phone with my husband, I packed a few precious items, closed up our home, and headed out of town with my son and his family.

As our three cars caravanned south on the interstate, I took one last look in the direction of the descending inferno.

Though the impending destruction was falling upon homes of neighbors and friends, Christ calmed my spirit. I heard Him say almost audibly, “Don’t look back. I will keep you safe.”

I turned away from a scene that wanted to hold my gaze and create fear in my heart.

And then, much to my surprise, I began to sing some of my favorite songs that I learned as a child.

I am not a musical person, nor do I normally express myself through song.

But there I was, singing, of all things. A wave of calm came over me as my own voice serenaded me on my way:

“Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before. . .every day with Jesus I love Him more and more. . .Jesus saves and keeps me. . .and He’s the one I’m living for. . .every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before.” (Robert Loveless, “Every Day with Jesus,” 1936).

Why was I singing?

Why was I relaxed?

Why was there a deep rolling joy flowing throughout my body?

Because in Christ I was safe!

I knew that no matter what happened, Jesus would take care of us.

Jesus had a plan to reach the world. He entrusted the gospel to eleven men and sent them out to tell others about Him. He was present with them, training them to live and disciple among the lost after His exit from earth into heaven.

We have also been entrusted with the sacred story of Jesus’ life and purposes. He desires for all to know Him and have eternal life. Eternal life is not a future posture. . .it starts today. And we can help other women in the come-and-go, daily experiences of life so that they are strong in Christ, ready to cope, confront, and walk through every rift or breach that comes their way in their life with Jesus.

 

Dana Yeakley has served over forty years on staff with The Navigators discipling and ministering to women.

The Gentle Art of Discipling Women is a simple yet detailed look at our need for authentic faith; the responsibility we have to pass that faith on through one-on-one discipleship; and practical, intentional ways we can disciple the women God places in our lives.

Called to mentor women, daughters? Start here. A must read for women leaders, mothers, and every woman who seeks to mentor.

[ Our humble thanks to Tyndale for their partnership in today’s devotion ]

how to ride out your own life tsunami, how to live through any hard storm

When you first meet the woman, you wouldn’t think she’s a woman who’s really rode out a tsunami.

I met Lauren in an island of stillness up in the hill country of Texas.

We sat out in the quiet of slanting sun. Lauren Chandler spoke with this steadying calm, like the clearing surface of reflective water.

Cancer had slammed her richter scale one unsuspecting morning, a tumor quaking her husband’s brain and their whole world.

She glanced down at the cup of coffee in her hands, “No one gives you any warning what day a wave’s going to slam into your whole world and everything you know is going to take a complete 180.”

She looked up and over at me.

And she handed me a number right there: 107.

A number I’ve remembered in crisis.

When everything takes a 180 — take the 107. Lauren turned to Psalm 107, like a woman who’d ridden out storms was turning this key.

Matt Cannon
Jon Ottoson

Kevin Harber

Andy Cross

Howard had got up one morning with absolutely no warning that a monster wave, taller than the Empire State Building, would literally slam into him and his boy.

He and his eight-year-old son “Sonny” had anchored on the south side of Lituya Bay in Alaska in a place called —- “Anchorage Cove.”

“Some went down to the sea in ships,

doing business on the great waters…” Ps. 107:23

Howard had said: “All was smooth. It was a quiet and peaceful anchorage.” There can be unwavering peace today when an uncertain tomorrow is trusted to an unchanging God.

With no notice, Howard’s boat, Howard’s boy, the bay, the circling mountains, the earth shook with one violent 7.8 earthquake — and forty million cubic yards of rock, ice and coarse soil weighing ninety million tons, slammed into the drowsy bay. Fifty miles to the north, people stopped dead in their tracks, the explosion thrumming inner ear drums.

Howard stood dazed on the deck of his boat: “Out of the corner of my eye, there was an explosion of water sending up a splash seventeen hundred feet high —- and then the wave started coming.”

“For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,

which lifted up the waves of the sea.” Ps. 107:25

When God raises the winds and lifts the waves — you can always trust His hand to lift you higher — further up into Himself.

“It was a wall of water, straight up and down, about two hundred feet tall, and it was black — totally black from the soil and trees.” You could see the shadows of the terror of it flash across Howard’s memories. “That whole wave was traveling about seventy miles per hour — but it was strangely silent.”

I’ve known that before — the strange silence of the encroaching crisis.

I’ve known that too:

The silence of God you hear in the midst of storms — can be the deep intimacy of God falling all around you, an intimacy that is beyond words — that will carry you through and beyond this storm.

“It was snapping these spruce trees along the side of the bay.” Howard had shifted his coffee mug, pointed to the treed shore rising up from the bay.

“They were big spruce trees, probably four hundred years old, and it was hitting them so hard, it was cutting them off at the stump.”

Lauren had said that her husband had just buckled and collapsed that morning, that cancerous tumour sending out seizure shockwave after wave.

Neva Swenson

Jason Schuller
Theophilos Papadopoulos

“I was looking at death — that was exactly my first thought. I didn’t think we had a chance —“ Howard’s voice cracked. “There was no way my boat was going to make it over that wave.”

Howard, eyeing the all-consuming wall of towering black water bearing down, threw his son a life preserver, and said, “Son — start praying.”

In every storm — Your Father gives you a life preserver — and it is always His Son.

In the face of every rising wave overwhelming you — it’s always turning to God’s face that overwhelms you with a rising grace.

In every great crisis – let it bring out the greatness of Christ in you. Real prayer always has eyes on Christ, not the crisis.

“Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble…” Ps. 107:28

Lauren told me she held unto the anchor she found in Psalm 107 — Psalm 107 that speaks of 4 different kinds of people crying out:

Home-seekers:

“Some wandered and were homeless.” Who isn’t seeking a Home in a thousand lost and weary ways?

Hero-seekers:

“Some sat in darkness and the deepest gloom, prisoners suffering in iron chains …” Who isn’t seeking a Hero to rescue from a dark suffering and save and literally set us free?

Healer-seeker:

“Some became fools through their rebellious ways and suffered affliction because of their iniquities.” Who isn’t seeking a Healer for hidden wounds?

Hand-seeker:

“Others went out on the sea in ships … their courage melted away…” Who isn’t seeking a Hand to hold on to in the midst of the pounding waves and the ravenous storm and the frothing, drowning sea?

And it’s Psalm 107’s Home-seekers and Hero-seekers and Healer-seekers and Hand-Seekers —- who find everything they seek in Him — Jesus — because Jesus is everything.

Every single one, in spite of different stories and different storms, all simply cried: “Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble.”

The way the children of God get the unwavering, steadfast love they need in their life — is to cry out for it.

Never be afraid of crying — tears deliver a singular kind of deliverance. Those who genuinely cry out — genuinely feel His steadfast love come in.

Because the only condition for the steadfast love of God — is that you realize can’t meet any of the conditions. “All you need is need” (Tim Keller) — all you need is to cry out.

“Then they cried to the Lord…”

And it happens, just like Lauren puts it memorably like this: “Sometimes He wrings the worship from our hearts.”

Viktor Jakovlev

Child — start praying.

Feel the preserving encircling of Christ around you and start praying and praising and thanking and worshipping. Stand in the rising, twisting storm — and let Him gently wring an unforgettable worship from our hearts.

Howard had showed us with the twisting of his hands, how it happened right in the face of the looming wave: “I had 40 fathoms of anchor chain, and it started running out — running off the boat, came to the end — and just snapped it like a string.”

Sometimes what we’re holding onto isn’t really an anchor for our soul — but an idol for our destruction.

Sometimes when it feels like God’s breaking our anchor — He’s really breaking our idols —- what we were holding on to more than we were holding on to Him.

Sometimes God allows all our anchors to break —- so we know the only unbreakable anchor we have is Him.

“When the wave hit the boat, it shot us upward —- skyward,” Howard turned.

“It all drove me further up into God,” Lauren had turned toward me.

And that tsunami wave struck Howard’s boat, struck the shore, that wave sweeping trees off a hillside at a incomprehensible height of more than 1,720 feet.

“The engine was wide open trying to get up that wave. And then it was on us,” Howard nods toward Sonny as he recounts how the largest tsunami every recorded in modern times lifted him and his boy.

“They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths;

their courage tmelted away in their evil plight…” Ps. 107:26

Overwhelming waves can carry you into the open arms and overwhelming love of God.

“It snapped the anchor, and the chain whipped around and hit the pilothouse door. It carried us a hundred feet up, but we couldn’t see anything but water and trees. We swept up in the wave over land, up over the trees. We rode the wave as it swept us above the trees. It was pushing us backward, and I was sure it was going to break and swamp us. Then the wave was breaking. It was breaking around us, on either side, but not quite where the boat was…. “ Howard choked up.

When you feel like the pounding waves of everything might break you — look for how He’s using everything to break the wave.

“And somehow” Howard shifted, stood up straighter, his eyes smiling a relief of thanksgiving, after riding that tsunami wave that roared higher than the Empire State building.— “Somehow we got on top of it and to the other side” —

Yes, that, that: When you don’t know how to get out the other side of the wave of crisis—- keep pressing into Christ’s side.

“… and He delivered them from their distress…

He sent out His word and healed them,

and delivered them from their destruction.

Then they were glad that the waters were quiet,

and He brought them to their desired haven.

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love…

Whoever is wise, let him heed these things and consider the great love of the LORD.” Ps. 107

Wisdom isn’t a function of considering great amounts of knowledge —

it’s the wise who continually consider the great, steadfast love of God.

Steph

Munah Ahmed

The only way you can keep standing through the waves— is that you know His steadfast love through His Word.

“Let them thank the Lord for His steadfast love,

for His wondrous works to the children of man!

And let them offer sacrifices of thanksgiving,

and tell of His deeds in songs of joy!” Ps. 107

In the face of extreme difficulties and extreme diversity, every single one of His-seekers all receive the same extreme, steadfast love — and every single one of us are called to give the extreme sacrifice of thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving isn’t only a celebration when good things happen —- thanksgiving is a declaration that God is good no matter what happens. No matter what earthquake hits, no matter what waves loom, no matter what tsunami hit on some unsuspecting day.

Because one day we’re all guaranteed to wake up and it will feel like all our anchors of this world have broke.

But there’s this oceanic love all reflecting Christ —-  and, like Christ’s most troubled outward life, there can be this feeling beaten and battered by the crashing waves breaking over you —- but there can be interior life that’s a sea of glass —- so Christ alone is seen.

There can be storms but He didn’t calm only one storm, He can calm all your storms.  

And the One who controls the storms, controls your ship .

The One who watches over the storm around you, makes peace within you.

The One who calms the storms, sometimes let the storms swirl and calms our fears.

And there can be great calm of His steadfast love that washes over every willing and surrendered soul.

 

 

When Lauren Chandler first told me of Psalm 107 steadying her through her tsunami — I couldn’t have imagined her book about that journey, Steadfast Love, would land in here the very day that a little wave hit us here a bit. Only the timing of God. 

Lauren had asked me to write the forward to Steadfast Love — and this past week, found me holding on to the truth of these pages like a lifeline.  Lauren’s husband, Matt Chandler, serves as the lead teaching pastor at The Village Church in Dallas, Texas, and the Lord has taken Matt and Lauren on a challenging journey with the November 2009 discovery of a malignant brain tumor in Matt. Need an anchor for this year and the waves that have hit and will hit? Highest recommendation of Steadfast Love. 

Only the Good Stuff: Multivitamins for Your Weekend [01.09.16]

Happy, happy, happy weekend!

Some real, down in the bones JOY to celebrate today! Links & stories this week 100% guaranteed to make you smile a mile wide & believe like crazy in a Good God redeeming everything — and that there’s love everywhere & for ((you))!  Serving up only the Good Stuff for you right here:

AV Wakefield
AV Wakefield
AV Wakefield

weekend walk for your soul

yep, made all of us smile a mile wide & we needed it

uh… guilty dogs?

she’s 80 – and you won’t believe what she does every day –  okay, I’m inspired

oh, he’s just casually ice skating in the Netherlands…on the street!? nice. 

who knew this trick to  deal with frost on the windshield?

Kendra Trent

 yeah, they’re two of a kind – and you’re never alone

thinking this might be one pretty amazing way to start a new year

Mary Anne Morgan

…sometimes you have to make your own party… beautiful, tender thoughts #NoFearNewYear

GoPro: Best of 2015 – The Year in Review – be prepared to be wowed

Simon Morris
Eva Ho
Tiina Törmänen 

top 50 photos from around the world – undone & awed at this world of God’s 

 no fear of getting older #NoFearNewYear 

photo: Forrest Cavale

“…are there any small acts of kindness you can add to your busy life?”

#betheGIFT

there is always, always, always a way to make music — you gotta see this 

#NeverGiveUp

Sylvie Pelesasa/Facebook

there are brave people stepping in everywhere for each other 

#WeBelongToEachOther

this is a secret to living: give away to grow stronger

This week’s Sticky Note for Your Soul: 
FREE daily printables to cheer you on!

Simply fill in your email here and the whole library of free printables and tools unfolds right before you:

Sign-in/Subscribe here for immediate access to the whole library of free printables, framables & free tools!

  Quiet Relief Near-Daily Quiet Relief in one Weekend BundleSIGN-IN »

at 82? she is the oldest person to ever finish the Ironman Triathlon

“To change the world that you are in — give to the world what you have.”

#NeverEverGiveUp #DoHardandHolyThings

Facebook/ Riverside County Animal Services

 she’s a little amputee. Who adopted a little 3-legged kitten — who’s helping her with her cancer recovery – this beautiful, brave world, people! 

make time to keep doing what you really love.  even at 95

“I have missed playing & when I do play now it makes me feel better & young again”

living big in a tiny house

#BeSmall

on a mission – to make sure that those in need have what they need

don’t you love this stuff in a crazy world  — this is how we all change culture 

because love in ordinary places — does extraordinary things:

friendship can save your life.

#CallaFriendThisWeekend

Books on the Stack at the Farm

Raising Grateful Kids in an Entitled World: How One Family Learned that Saying No Can Lead to Life’s Biggest Yes, by Kristen Welch

Who doesn’t want this? Who doesn’t need more help with exactly this? This is a needed, practical book to reset the new year for the whole family. It’s like a gift to your whole family: cultivating an atmosphere of genuine appreciation under your roof.  On the end table here and highly recommended.

The Lifegiving Home: Creating a Place of Belonging and Becoming, by Sally and Sarah Clarkson

If you’re yearning for the beauty of a genuinely life-giving home, where a real family can flourish — this book. Written by my friend and mentor, Sally Clarkson, this is a breath of fresh air and inspiration when you’re endeavouring to make home the place your family longs to be. A deeply encouraging and inspiring read to start a new year.

… it’s a crazy, hurting world & I wonder if we’re all really facing this:

“In a World of Increasing Terrorism,

What is the Biggest Threat to the Church?”

From Q Ideas:

Don’t miss what God wants to do in you because you’re chasing the next thing

Track with Q Ideas for a year of inspiring learning

#NoFearNewYear

love is what goes on forever and ever 

and this right here? it was it’s all about, beautiful folks 

wherever you are at right now — you gotta know, it is well

… honestly, when we can’t rest because our storms just don’t seem to stop?

He walks right across our waves to us, pulls us real close & whispers:

“The winds obey Me. So the one thing I ask of you again & again is: Do not be afraid. Trust Me.”

And there’s this nodding right in the face of the gales: If even the blasting winds obey Him — then our storms aren’t, cannot be, bigger than our God.

Jesus didn’t just calm one storm — He can calm all our storms.

It’s like a steadying rocking into a sure rest right there on our waves:

‘Do not be afraid. Your Papa is the Maker of the universe —

so you never have to be afraid.’

Then there’s the exhale… and a Giving it to all to God so there’s getting some rest… the deep, carrying rest of God who can calm every known storm.

‪#‎HonestPrayersForRealHonestPeople‬

Dare to fully live!

That’s all for this weekend, friends.

Go slow. Be God-struck. Grant grace. Live Truth.

Give Thanks. Love well. Re – joy, re- joy, ‘re- joys’ again

Share Whatever Is Good.

when you & people you love are hurting: how to find a way through

… sitting in hospital rooms and waiting for doctors this week, we’ve been surrounded by suffering & deep hurting,  this first week of a new year — and my friend,  John S. Dickerson, he’s well-acquainted with grief and with grace. He documented human suffering as a journalist before becoming a pastor, to help people through hurt, doubt, and suffering. John also has a rare medical condition, which drove him to study Paul the Apostle’s “thorn in the flesh” and the Scripture that “when I am weak, then I am strong.” His new book, I Am Strong: Finding God’s Peace and Strength in Life’s Darkest Moments, is written to be given as a gift of help to anyone who is hurting. It’s a humbling grace to welcome John to the farm’s front porch today…

by John Dickerson

About seven years ago, my wife whispered to me that she was pregnant with our first child.

We were both so excited.

We were kids really–trying to make our way through a big and intimidating world. The thought of becoming parents felt overwhelming, but exciting.

We hadn’t figured out our marriage yet. Or our future, but somehow, we had created something amazing together. In that little person, we knew we had a future that was good and promising and full of life.

Things were going really well with the pregnancy. Until a day when I got a phone call in my office. I drove home to find Mel balled up on the couch, in physical agony.

A few hours later, that pregnancy—that life—left her body.

As we sat there on the couch, it started to thunderstorm outside. In Scottsdale, Arizona– where it hardly ever rains. Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction.

The thunderstorm knocked out the electricity in our little house.

We sat there in the dark. Just feeling like the universe was against us.

I lit some candles to carry around.

I made sure Mel had anything she wanted. I felt powerless as a husband, longing to alleviate Mel’s pain, but being entirely unable to do so.

I remember going into the tiny downstairs bathroom where Mel had passed the little start of a life.

In the flickering candlelight, I could see it wasn’t much bigger than a goldfish. But I could discern the beginnings of a head and what would have become her eyes, or his.

I closed the door—because I didn’t want Mel to hear me crying. I’ll never forget the uncontrollable, heaving sobs that overtook me.

Earlier, when Mel phoned to say what was happening, I told myself I would not feel anything. I would be strong for my wife, the rock she needed (or so I thought). But then I found myself crumbling, my deepest emotions uncorked by this little thing that could have been.

In that little bathroom, holding human flesh that no longer possessed a soul, I was physically alone.

But it turned out, I was not entirely alone.

Jesus describes the Spirit of God as a comforting friend who comes to wrap an arm around us in our pain and grief.

Men don’t love crying. At least, I don’t. And in that thunderstorm, with the electricity knocked out and the candles flickering, I cried harder than I have ever cried in my life before. Harder than I have ever cried since.

But do you know who was there with me, when I crumpled, alone, onto that bathroom floor, with the door locked?

The One who comes alongside.

The calming, breathing presence of the living God. The Spirit who comes alongside Jesus’ followers in our troubles.

He doesn’t always still our storms. But He can still us, in the storm.

And in that thunderstorm, in difficulty so unexpected and so unimaginable in the moment, He was there, with me.

Can you remember a time when someone ran to you? Put their arm around you? Hugged you? The Holy Spirit desires to come alongside you to comfort you and encourage you in the same way, today.

When we’re hurting, confused, or doubting, the Holy Spirit eagerly waits to encourage us.

When we stumble in trying to follow Jesus, when we get discouraged, the Holy Spirit longs to help us.

Call out to the God of comfort, where you’re hurting today. Reach out for “the One who comes alongside.”

When you’re crying and alone. When you’re hurting or confused. When you’re crumpled, alone, on a bathroom floor. When you’re trying to do everything right, and everything is going wrong. That’s when He comes alongside.

The presence of the living God, eagerly drawing near to you in your hurting.

He may not be resolving our circumstances yet, but He is resolving us. He’s not yet brought final peace on earth, but He can bring peace in you.

It’s not heaven out there, in this sin-stained world. But He can bring pieces of Heaven, foretastes, supernatural calm, to your inner person—right in the midst of your trouble. Only open the doors of your pain. Invite Him in.

He’ll be there for you tomorrow. He’ll be with you next week.

With you at the graveside.

With you in the hospital.

With you when you’re rejected. With you when you’re forgotten.

With you when you’re hurting and wondering, physically alone.

The Spirit created life, in the beginning. He hovered over the waters. He was the breath breathed into Adam’s nostrils, so that man became a living thing.

When our physical bodies finally break down in this evil and broken world, He will be the one to come alongside each of us who trust in Christ.

To cling to us. To carry us to a new heaven, a new earth, and a new body.

Come? 

Together let’s invite the comforting Holy Spirit of God to counsel and comfort us as we make our way through this broken world.

As we continue our journey to our true home—where there will be no tears, no death.

 

 

John S. Dickerson, a daddy to three and husband to the amazing Mel, serves as Teaching Pastor at Venture Christian Church in the Bay Area of California.

I’m telling, I’m carrying around John’s new book, I Am Strong: Finding God’s Peace and Strength in Life’s Darkest Moments,  these rich words written to help you (or anyone you know) find God in the midst of pain or difficulty. The book weaves emotional true stories with Biblical theology to build life-changing hope in Christ — exactly what the brave and the limping need. 

You can download free chapters from the book at: IAmStrongBook.com. Honestly? The pages of this book breath a desperate hope and comfort. Much more, I am Strong offers daily practices and lifelong vision on which to build an unshakeable life of meaning and peace.  Don’t know about you — but I need to start a new year off with the truth that, though the road may be hard,  I am Strong.

[ Our humble thanks to Zondervan and their partnership in today’s devotion  ]

In a World of Increasing Terrorism, What is the Biggest Threat to the Church?

When Jeanne Damoff traveled to Kazakhstan in 2013 to speak at a conference for mothers of disabled children, she wondered how she would be received. She’d never shared her story of beauty from brokenness with women from a vastly different culture, many of them Muslim. But they not only listened, they welcomed her into their hearts and homes, and God began to dismantle the tidy boxes and boundaries she didn’t know she’d built. That happy shift in perspective has opened opportunities to embrace a wealth of unexpected “neighbors,” both around the globe and in her own backyard, where she currently volunteers with Seek the Peace, promoting literacy, building friendships, and serving alongside refugees resettled in Dallas. It’s the most humbling grace to welcome my brave and wise friend, Jeanne, to the farm’s front porch today…

guest post and photos by Jeanne Damoff

“Who is my neighbor?”

A lawyer asked Jesus that question, and as Jesus often did, He answered with a story.

A man was robbed and left for dead. Two religious leaders passed him by, but one man — a Samaritan — saw him and made a costly choice.

He chose mercy.

It’s hard to make sense of a lot that’s happening in the world right now, and the temptation is to follow the example of those religious leaders — to put on blinders and keep walking straight ahead, because what can we do in the face of so much suffering and fear?

Fear is a fog that clouds the brain and freezes the heart.

And before we know it?   We’re like the lawyer in that story, desiring to justify ourselves in the limits we set on love.

A friend of mine sent me several reports from a Hungarian couple who are missionaries near Budapest and served the influx of Syrian refugees that arrived at the Keleti train station.

After days of providing food, clothing, and services to exhausted and grateful families, the wife observed a gradual shift in the appearance and behavior of some of the arrivals. “One thing we all have noticed. Some of these people looked different than the group yesterday, and all last week. Today’s migrants were mostly men, some who did not look that needy. Sometimes it was rather frightening. What do all these men want to do in Europe? We still served them with love.”

Reports like this weigh heavy on my heart, until I remember one, unchanging, overriding truth.

None of this comes as a surprise to God. And really? It shouldn’t surprise us, either.

Ever since our first parents were banished from Eden, humans have been aching for Home.

The biblical narrative reveals a long line of sojourners and exiles searching for a place to belong. From Abraham to the early Christians dispersed by persecution, God’s people have known what it means to be strangers in a strange land.

Human history is one long, epic story of the desperately needy seeking Refuge.

And God’s hand has been evident every messy step of the way. Indeed, God told Abraham it was His intention to bless all the families of the earth through him.

Though the scattered Christians probably would have preferred to remain in the Pentecostal glow of the Jerusalem church, God wanted them to carry the seeds of the gospel far and wide.

Sometimes we have to be shaken into our purpose.

We like our borders.

We crave stability and safety — the kind we can build a fence around and protect with security systems and strong locks on the doors.

But God consistently calls His children to live generous, hospitable lives.

With the doors open.

And when we choose to hide inside our blockades, He lovingly intervenes.

I recently heard a man say the biggest threat to the church isn’t the world’s brokenness getting in. She can build walls to keep the world out.
The biggest threat to the church is that she will succeed in building those walls.

We are His body, and regardless of what our governments do or don’t do, the church must welcome all comers. And yes, this means risk. It always has.

T.S. Eliot’s Murder in the Cathedral is a play about the 12th-century martyrdom of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury. As King Henry II’s soldiers approached, some of the priests locked the doors to the sanctuary in an effort to save his life, but Thomas commanded,

“Unbar the doors! Throw open the doors!

I will not have the house of prayer, the church of Christ,

The sanctuary, turned into a fortress.

The Church shall protect her own, in her own way, not

As oak and stone; stone and oak decay,

Give no stay, but the Church shall endure.

The church shall be open, even to our enemies. Open the door!”

The doors were opened —  and Thomas was murdered.

In Following Jesus in a Culture of Fear, Scott Bader-Saye wrote, “Thomas knows that in some way his martyrdom will be gathered up into God’s purpose, made part of God’s great ‘figuring’ of history . . . . Eliot places in the mouth of Thomas his own conviction that God’s good and joyful purposes will finally be made complete. It is this conviction, this hope, this trust that allows Thomas to let go of the fear of losing his life.”

So, here’s what I want to know. What are we afraid of?

Are we afraid of suffering?

Because God has promised we will suffer, and when we suffer according to His will, we fellowship with Jesus.

Are we afraid of death?

Because death will eventually come to us all, but God is big enough to keep us in our obedience until His purposes have been accomplished in and through our lives.

Are we afraid for our children?

Because the best gift we can give them is to follow Christ’s example in costly obedience.

Are we afraid of engaging the “stranger”?

Have we become so settled and complacent that we’ve forgotten we ourselves were once separated from Christ, strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world?

Have we forgotten that —as long as we are here on earth — we, too, are refugees?

Are we afraid that they will invade our space?

That our comfortable, tidy church communities will get messy?

Because our churches don’t belong to us in the first place and were never meant to be comfortable or tidy.  If the gospel is anything, it’s messy.

Do we really believe Jesus meant what He said? “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic either. Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back. And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.”

That Hungarian missionary wrote of the men who didn’t appear to be in need, “We still served them with love.” Then she added, “The best part of today was to see the body of Christ coming alive.”

But we’re not in Hungary. We’re watching the Syrian refugee crisis unfold from afar. How can we be “the body of Christ coming alive”?

What can we do to help?
First, we can refuse fear.

Politicians may leverage fear for their own purposes, but the church doesn’t trade in that currency. If we claim to be a people of love, then we need to embrace Jesus’ definition of that word. (John 15:13)

We can petition and pray for our government leaders. They need wisdom and courage, and they need to know we’re willing to do our part.

We can confess our selfishness, repent, and give sacrificially of our time and resources.

We can find out if there are refugees resettled in our area (there are in mine), and look for opportunities to get involved.

We can donate money or requested items through WeWelcomeRefugees.com or other ministries.

We can present our bodies as living sacrifices to God, lay down our willing yes, and then keep our eyes and ears open, because He will take us up on the offer.

We weren’t created for self-seeking comfort and ease. It lulls us to sleep.

We were made to shine light in darkness, to love and serve our enemies, and to wash the feet of the least.

Like the Samaritan, we can choose mercy. And if we don’t, can we honestly claim to love our neighbor?

Terrorism is on the rise, and the world is facing the worst refugee crisis since World War II, but none of this comes as a surprise to God.

And nothing is too difficult for Him.

We can be on the right side of His story —  knowing our lives are gathered up into God’s purposes, and flinging our doors wide for such a time as this.

Because Refuge still waits with His nail-scarred hands stretched wide to welcome the sojourner Home.

Set our foundations on the holy hills;

Our city found

Firm on the bedrock of the Truth; our wills

Settle and ground.

Cause us to stand to our own conscious clear;

Cause us to be the thing that we appear.

~Amy Carmichael

Jeanne Damoff is a daughter, sister, wife, mom, mother-in-law, and grandmother. Light has swallowed up her darkness, and she loves to help people discover beauty and purpose even in their most broken places. Her ambition is to be small in her own eyes, to be present in every moment, to see God’s image in every person, and to discover His gifts everywhere.

Jeanne is an exquisite author and speaker, volunteers with local refugee and special needs ministries, serves as intercessor and counselor for The Lulu Tree, and powerfully blogs for First Aid Arts and at The View From Here.  Jeanne and I pray you’ll consider bravely & boldly joining us in truly miraculous places like Seek the Peace and First Aid Arts and the work of WeWelcomeRefugees.com. 

when you need to hear God in the midst of your hard place

… as we’ve sat in hospitals this week, waiting for specialists and doctors and results, I’ve thought a lot about Diane Comer  — Diane lives in a deep quietness…  Because she is deaf. This is her story of losing her hearing, of nearly losing her faith, of coming precariously close to losing all she held dear in the process. And it is the story of how God picked her up out of the pit she so heedlessly dug herself into, brushed away the filth of her faithlessness, and set her feet on solid rock. On Jesus. Himself.  It is a story of her complete and utter failure…and of God’s relentless faithfulness in spite of her.  Most of all, this is a story of learning to listen in the silence. It’s a deeply humbling grace to welcome Diane to the farm’s front porch today…

by Diane Comer

After those first months of agonizing struggle to surrender to God the doctor’s prognosis of encroaching deafness, I found myself reveling in the intimacy God had given to me in my brokenness.

I was learning, and growing, and delighting in what I was hearing as He taught me to listen.

But my ears grew ever more deaf.

When my audiologist Janna, tested and retested my hearing every few months, she seemed to understand the roiling, just-under-the-surface emotions that often left me white-faced and anxious.

Nevertheless, as warmhearted as she was, she was not hesitant to confront me if she knew I was bluffing.

On one particular day, as I strained to hear her words and repeat them back to her (even if I had to make them up), she pushed back from her perch outside of the sound booth, sat down directly in front of me, and handed me the test results.

More loss. A lot more loss.

That graph paper, filled with x’s where sound registered and blank spaces where no sounds penetrated, caused all the peace created by my life-changing encounter with God to begin wobbling precariously.

God telling me He wasn’t going to heal me was one thing— this free fall into deafness was quite another.

I wanted to sob, to wail. I could hardly hold myself erect.

But I can do this, I told myself. I will do this. I will be strong.

With discipline and dignity, I swallowed my disappointment, shook off my panic, and pulled my pain in close.

Janna wasn’t fooled.

“Diane, what did I just say?” she asked.

Feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up my neck, I searched for words that wouldn’t come.

She looked at me like a teacher catching a naughty student passing notes in class.

“Diane, do not bluff!”

Her words hung between us in the suffocating room. I could feel my face flame. Caught in my fakery, I glossed over the awkwardness with banal chatter, mumbling and bumbling inane words to fill the silence.

She wasn’t about to let me off the hook.

God had a lesson for me to learn that day that would resonate in my soul for the rest of my life.

“Diane, you must be honest. When you don’t hear what I’m saying, you have got to ask me to repeat myself. Do. Not. Pretend. Never, ever fake it with me!”

I gulped back the tears threatening to stream down my reddened face and apologized profusely.

“I’m sorry, I was getting what you said . . . just missed the last few words . . . I understood almost everything . . . really, I’m trying!”

But Janna would have none of it. Pretending isn’t trying, a lesson I would learn over and over again in the ensuing years.

Pretending is simply pushing away the truth to hide in thinly veiled obscurity.

We pretend when we don’t want to see.

We pretend when we don’t want to be seen, like when my children played hide and seek by covering their eyes. If I don’t look at you, you won’t see me.

Slowly, insistently, God was trying to peel my hands away from my eyes. To strip away all the pretense that peppered my responses and show me that what He wants from me is unadorned honesty .

Like Janna, who demanded that I be utterly transparent with her so she could help me adjust to my hearing loss, God insists on artless transparency to enable Him to mold me into a woman of grace and beauty, a woman who listens and hears and knows Him down deep.

No plotted out prayers.

No hands raised in worship with fists clenched in rebellion.

No plastic “disciplined” response to reality.

I once listened as a woman described her “date with God.” First, she told a roomful of women, “I do my hair and put on makeup in preparation. I want to meet God at my best . . .”

Are you kidding me? Meet my God with makeup on, lest He see me as I truly am?

Most mornings I stumble out of bed in rumpled pj’s, detangling my confused brain as I prepare my coffee as quickly as my sluggishness will allow. I drop things, read words backwards in that early morning drowsy dyslexia. My breath is rancid, goo catches at the corners of my eyes, I am a hair-gone-wild mess.

Through Janna’s admonishments to stop bluffing, I began to see that God doesn’t ask me to fix my appearance, outside or inside, to have an intimate encounter with Him. He knows me, and He loves me. Even when I’m a mess.

The only thing He absolutely requires of me, if I am to meet Him face to face, is honesty.

When I confess my flaws, my guilt, and my failures to God, He takes the softest washcloth to my mess and bathes me in beauty. I lean into His warmth, breathing in the scent of Him, wanting more.

From admitting that I lost my temper and shouldn’t have spoken so derisively to my husband again, I progress to shedding all the pride and defensiveness that makes me prickly and resistant to soul intimacy.

I let go of the part of me that pretends to be perfect, the part that keeps missing the point of the cross—which is redemption.

Not simply to wash me clean of my sins, as magnificent as that is, nor to protect me from God’s wrath, as undeserving as I am, but to redeem me from all the mess my sin-infected DNA dictates.

Jesus went after me, all the way up that infamous hill called Calvary, for one reason: to bring me to the Father. “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God . . .” (1 Peter 3:18)

When my audiologist pulled me up short by confronting me about my bluffing, she had no way of knowing she’d paved the way for me to stop pretending to God. Or how her honest way of relating would usher me into hearing things I never could have heard as long as I stuck to the hunky-dory good life script I’d insisted on for so long.

To be real is to reveal the shabbiness of who I am today. All the worn down places, the fading beauty, the seams straining in all the wrong places.

When I am honest—no bluffing or posturing or princess play—that is when God draws me in close and speaks to me of all I long to know.

In the silence I have learned that God fills my not-enoughness with all that He is, and that He whispers words –

words of hope and joy, of rest and truth, into my hard-of-hearing soul.

And now I shake my head and wonder why I ever tried to be more than I am.

 

 

 

 

Diane Comer lives in a cottage in the woods of the Pacific Northwest. Married for thirty-seven years, with four children and a passel of grandkids, she is a teacher, a writer, the wife of a pastor, and the co-founder of Intentional, a conference for parents whose great hope is to raise passionate Jesus followers.

Sharing her story of losing her hearing, Diane writes about living in the belief that God invites every woman into an intimacy that will satisfy the cravings of her soul.

Diane’s powerful, just released book, He Speaks In The Silence: finding intimacy with God by learning to listen,  tells her story in the wildest hope that those who read her words will lean in — and find the intimacy with God they’ve been listening for. A truly beautiful read — for those who need to hear God in the midst of their hard place. 

when you’re trying to make a hard new year into a good year

Bits of our unexpected hard new year — unfolding over here
and over here, unpacking how to make even a hard new year into a good year

How to Stop Procrastination: What to do when you don’t feel like doing anything at all

Inviting  Mr. Jon Bloom, President of Desiring God, today. When I met Mr. Bloom at his office — I was deeply moved by his humility, his genuine warmth and down-to-earth grace — this was a man who genuinely, gently, walked with Jesus. Mr. Bloom authentically lives what he so compellingly writes.

 

by Jon Bloom

What do you not feel like doing today?

You know what I mean. It’s that nagging thing weighing on you.

You know you should do it.

If you did it, it would honor God because it obeys his law of love (John 15:12), or it’s a work of faith (2 Thessalonians 1:11), or it puts “to death the deeds of the body” (Romans 8:13).

You know it would be good for your soul or your body or your family or your vocation or your neighbor or your church.

But you don’t feel like doing it.

At all.

You know that God promises you more blessing if you do it than if you don’t.

But you’re struggling to believe that promise because it feels difficult.

It’s like you have weights on your ankles and wrists. You don’t want to muster the energy it’s going to take. And every distraction glows with attraction.

 

The Strange Pattern of Progress

While it’s true that this feeling has its roots in our remaining sin nature and is a weight we must lay aside (Hebrews 12:1), the experience of “not feeling like it” also can become for us a reminder of a gospel truth and actually give us hope and encouragement in this battle.

Think about this strange pattern that occurs over and over in just about every area of life:

Healthy, nutritious food often requires discipline to prepare and eat while junk food is convenient, tasty, and addictive.
Keeping the body healthy and strong requires frequent deliberate discomfort while it only takes moderate indulgence to go to pot.
You have to make yourself pick up that nourishing but intellectually challenging book while flipping on the TV or popping in a DVD is as easy as coasting downhill.
You frequently have to force yourself to get to devotions and prayer while sleeping in or cleaning that clutter or checking Facebook just has a gravitational pull.
Learning to skillfully play beautiful music requires thousands of hours of tedious practice.
Excelling in a sport requires monotonous drills ad nauseum.
Learning to write well requires writing, writing, writing and rewriting, rewriting, rewriting. And usually voluminous reading.
It takes years and years of schooling just to make certain vocational opportunities possible.

You get the idea.

The pattern in everything is this: the greater joys are obtained through struggle and difficulty and pain—things you must force yourself to do when you don’t feel like it—while brief, unsatisfying, and often destructive joys are as inviting as couch cushions.

Why is this?

 

Why the Struggle and Difficulty and Pain?

Because God, in great mercy, is showing us everywhere, in things that are just shadows of heavenly realities, that there is great reward for those who struggle through and persevere (Hebrews 10:32–35).

He is reminding us almost everywhere to walk by faith in a promised future and not by the sight of immediate gratification (2 Corinthians 5:7).

Understood this way, each thing we don’t feel like doing, great or small, becomes an invitation from God to follow in the faithful footsteps of his Son, “who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2).

Those who are spiritually blind only see futility in these struggles.

But for those who have eyes to see, God has woven gospel hope right into the futility of creation (Romans 8:20–21). Each struggle to overcome becomes a pointer saying, “Look ahead, past the struggle itself, past the temptation of the puny, vapor joys to the great, sustained, substantial Joy set before you!”

 

Endurance, Not Indulgence

So, back to that thing you don’t want to do today.

Don’t let “not feeling like it” reign as lord (Romans 6:12). It’s not your master; you don’t have to obey it.

And even though it’s counseling comfort for you, it’s not your friend either. It’s a whiny, lying joy-stealer. It’s pointing you to feeble joys and away from deep delights.

Instead, through this feeling see your Father pointing you to the reward he has planned for all who endure to the end (Matthew 24:13). Transpose it from reluctance to a reminder that God is calling you not to indulgence but endurance.

Then lay this weight aside and run with faith the race he has set before you. God will meet you with the grace you need (2 Corinthians 9:8).

And the thing is:

This light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:17–18)

Do it for the joy!

 

 

When he sent me an early manuscript of his book to read, Not by Sight: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Walking by Faith, I read slowly. Captivated by the stories of Scripture all over again. I made notes. I re-read. The chapters, 35 imaginative retellings of Bible stories, made me hungrier for God, His Truth, the company of Christ. Mr. Bloom’s Scripture saturated lines stirred a trust in God’s promises instead of personal perceptions. 

I humbly encourage you to pick up Not by Sight… penned by a man who quietly, authentically lives what he so compellingly writes. Perfect devotional reading for your morning cup of espresso or tea — for a joyously productive 2016!

 

Related:

THIS IS THE YEAR: When New Year Resolutions feel hopeless – and you want some SOULutions [Free 2016 Printable]

How to Destroy Procrastination: Dear You Who Doesn’t Want to Do that Hard Thing in the New Year

 

Only the Good Stuff: Multivitamins for Your Weekend [01.02.16]

Happy, happy, happy weekend!

Some real, down in the bones JOY to celebrate today! Links & stories this week 100% guaranteed to make you smile a mile wide & believe like crazy in a Good God redeeming everything — and that there’s love everywhere & for ((you))!  Serving up only the Good Stuff for you right here: 

entwistlephoto
entwistlephoto
entwistlephoto

because sometimes we need to pause and look at the beautiful all around us

yup, the family gathered ’round this one for sure

so…. uh… you see what’s missing?

double dog dare you not to laugh

Jessica Bailey/Pretty Providence

okay, kicking starting some amazing January declutter. Check the before and afters! 

#NOFEARNEWYEAR

for real — did this really happen?

now this? pretty nifty

 
#NOFEARNEWYEAR: This week’s Sticky Note for Your Soul: 
FREE daily printables to cheer you on!

Simply fill in your email here and the whole library of free printables and tools unfolds right before you:

Subscribe/Sign-up here for immediate access to the whole library of free printables, framables & free tools!

  Quiet Relief Near-Daily Quiet Relief in one Weekend BundleSIGN-IN »

 clever

okay, You Won’t Believe What This Mother of 6 Did to Totally Rock Her Laundry Space — #JanuaryInspiration

George Hodan

how the  world has changed in the last 100 yrs…see what they did there? 

what he does every day? his neighbors stop and listen

at 23? okay — who’s next? because he’s hoping others will do the same…

you go right ahead & smile

learning the violin in 2 years? so… what are you learning this  year? #NOFEARNEWYEAR

really — see what Travis the Llama brings to this nursing home

surprise!

Walt Aikens/Facebook
The Blaze

you’ve seen this, right? you’ve got to see this: this is what it’s all about, folks

did he really just uh… paint his name?

Happy New Year! [Free 2016 Calendar to Print & Color!]

The designs are perfect for coloring…print them out, add some color to personalize them, and then be encouraged by the truth of God’s Word every month this year! #NOFEARNEWYEAR

so? who really owns Antarctica?

 see all possibilities through a new lens

These 5 Words Turned Walmart into a Holy Land – & it’s Flooded with Grace and Tears

one man’s fight

Happy 2016!

Research shows counting just 3 gift-blessings/day increases happiness by 25%…

Why yes, please! Come on a scavenger hunt for God’s gifts every day? Three gifts a day.

“… that habit of discontentment, it can only be driven out by hammering in iron that is even sharper —The sleek pin of gratitude.” ….

~ One Thousand Gifts

Print out the whole Joy Dare Calendar

snowtime: an amazing microscopic timelapse

On the Stack at the Farm: #NOFEARNEWYEAR

Happiness, by Randy Alcorn

Run, do not walk to get this book.  This may be book of the year, right here.

I don’t know if there’s a more important book to start 2016 with? Want happiness this year? Want to know how God wants your happiness this year? Want this to be an unforgettable year?

I can give no higher recommendation than this book — I want to give this one to everyone I know. Ten Star. 

you always wanted to know what one of these sounded like, right?

a  5 star fire truck escort for one little girl on her to do this

Start the New Year Right Here: How to Destroy Procrastination

Dear You Who Doesn’t Want to Do that Hard Thing in the New Year

#NOFEARNEWYEAR

anything is possible this  year

#NOFEARNEWYEAR

yes, yes, yes: the best of the best good moments captured on camera this year 

Sheradia didn’t want a trip to Walt Disney World, nor did she want to meet her favorite celebrity when Make-A-Wish officials approached her.

What she asked for surprised everyone.

 lift up what’s weighing down

she’s using what she loves to do…all for His purpose.

so yeah — what’s your plan for  this year?

#NOFEARNEWYEAR

Post of the Week from these parts here

you know, sometimes you just flat-out want THIS to be THE YEAR.

but the whole idea of New Year’s Resolutions? Feels kinda hopeless — because what we’re after here is more than resolutions, more than solutions — the soul’s looking for some SOULutions…

and it’s pretty clear that: Purposing to change things

happens only when Prayer meets Perseverance.

yeah — a free 2016 tool for authentic change this year #NOFEARNEWYEAR

“If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast…

your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”

– Psalm 139: 9-10, 14b

… HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Don’t only grieve over what’s over, but wonder that it was at all.

Laugh that you lived brave & dance a bit that you even dared all you did —

And be more grateful for what is — than you feel guilty over what isn’t.

Be thankful that it all happened — and it all was grace.

‪#‎NoFearNewYear‬ 

[ print’s free for you here ]

That’s all for this weekend, friends.

Go slow. Be God-struck. Grant grace. Live Truth.

Give Thanks. Love well. Re – joy, re- joy, ‘re- joys’ again

Share Whatever Is Good.