Emily Cook's Blog, page 55

We wear masks for safety. But grace changes everything.

As I read this book and learn about these different kinds of masks we wear, part of me is always arguing:
Ok, fine, so maybe I do wear some of these masks to make myself look better than I am. But, look, it isn’t safe out there!  I can’t just let all of my ugly hang out and expect to be liked, much less loved! And I want, no, I need to be loved!
She explains, “The reason we hide is because we fear if we come out from behind it, we won’t be enough.“ p. 74
I think the author is right about this. It is fear that keeps me hiding behind the masks. Some of it is silly fear, and some of it is realistic fear.
And at this part of the book, I found myself afraid she would start into some silly pep-talk, telling us we are enough in our own way, that our sin isn’t really sin and we all just try so hard and can’t we just lighten up and love each other for who we are already?  Authenticity and tolerance and warm fuzzies! Let’s all pretend sin isn’t sin and make ourselves comfortable together here, with our ugly hanging out. (We might have to shield our eyes a little, but it’s worth it if it makes us all feel good!)But she doesn't say that.
“The reason we hide is because we fear if we come out from behind it, we won’t be enough. And the truth is, apart from Christ, we won’t.”
Apart from Christ, we are NOT enough. We are not awesome. We are not perfect mothers or selfless hard-workers or saints who deserve everyone’s love and admiration.We are sinners.  Just like the first sinners, we hide. From each other, and from God.
We hide from each otherWe hide from each other because we know people, and people are not necessarily safe. People can use our weaknesses against us. They might judge us. They might laugh. They might misunderstand us. They might hurt us.We know this, so we wear a mask like a shield, and we try to keep ourselves safe behind it.
We hide from GodWhat if God is just like people? We aren't sure if He’s safe. We feel our sin, some of it, and we fear. And we hear his Law and we fear even more, and rightly so. We know our sin, and we are afraid to come out of hiding before God, because we don’t want God to make us know it even more.  
So we wield our mask like a shield against Him, against His law, and we hide.
How grace changes thingsOur flimsy shields do not keep God from seeing into our hearts. He comes to us, destroying our shields with His word of Law.  He slays us, our self-righteousness, our pride.  And it’s terrifying.
But then, He gives us new life through the gospel.
Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—
it is by grace you have been saved. 
And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.  
For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—(Ephesians 2:3-8)
His behavior towards us is radical, shocking, and so surprising it can be hard to believe. That which we deserve—He has taken upon Himself.   Instead of wrath, we get grace.Instead of condemnation, we get mercy.Instead of death, we get life.Instead of weakness, we receive strength.
And it is all grace. All of it. Our adoption into God’s family, and our life in Him every day thereafter.Such confidence we have through Christ before God.  Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God.  He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life. (2 Cor 3:4-6)
Grace changes everything.
What happens to the masks?As we understand who we are in Christ, and find ourselves fully known and yet fully loved, and as we learn to receive all good things from His hand, it changes how we relate to each other, too.
As His love pours out to those around us, we forget to worry about what they are thinking of us. We just serve them, and love them, and ask Him for help when that is hard.
As we taste of the riches of His inheritance, we forget to keep score, and we no longer need the A+.
As we bring our ugliness to Him and receive His grace every time, we forget to hide our ugliness from others. We know we sin, but we know Him who died for that sin, and that is more important.
We learn to point others to Him for grace, help, and security. We stop trying to fill that role ourselves, and we learn to be content in our small callings.
Grace changes everything.
And then, grace upon grace, God puts us in community with others who have tasted of His grace. We live together in that grace, and we breathe in His love for ourselves and breathe it out to each other.
And the masks slowly become unnecessary. [image error]
 ---------------------------------Are you reading Grace for the Good Girl?What do you think so far?Read more posts and see our reading schedule here.

How a sweater moved me to prayer. (& Link Up)

We hug goodbye in the dark, on the front porch before school. My bare arms around them feel a chill, and I make them wait while I find their fall jackets. “We’re fine,” they insist, but I make them wear them, because I am cold, and because I said so.


The house is open today, and cool fall breeze blows away the musty smells of children and sweat and work. It is time to dig out the fall clothes.
Sometimes I wonder if God does the loaves-and-fishes miracle in my basement each season. Again this year, my shopping list is short. Again they will be clothed like the lilies of the field, and we have more than we need.
The too-short pants make a large pile.  The long sleeves fit snugly in the drawers. I anticipate soft-sweatered hugs.
They try things on for me, and I hear their opinions."Oh I love this sweater! Look, Seth!"  It is soft, navy blue, with light blue stripes across the chest. It will compliment his blue eyes, and I can’t wait to take a picture of him in it.He looks at it suspiciously."Hmmm,” he says. He holds it up and wrinkles his nose. Then he looks in my hopeful eyes.  “Well, we can keep it and I can wear it on Saturdays.”  I smile, and he clarifies, “Only on Saturdays when nobody's coming over."And I resign. He is old enough to have opinions now, and I give him freedom. I will give the sweater away, but I will also enjoy his blue eyes. He doesn't have to know.
I open the baby’s drawer. He’s not a baby, I remind myself. He is two. I see cute PJs with feet that will not fit him this year. He is bigger now, too big for that.
And then, I take out the sweater, the one with the stripes, and I realize it is too small for him. There are many sweaters, but this particular sweater makes me pause.


This sweater was a hand-me-down. And even so, it has been worn by all six of my children. Six kids grew into it and then out of it again. And now the smallest has grown out of it.

My first baby. Aggie, my second baby. and then there were three.
Three, and then four, five, six. 
In and out of boxes, on and off bodies it's been, time and again. I imagine the stains, the yogurt blobs and the slobber and the pumpkin guts. Again and again it was washed, dried,and put on little bodies, my favorite bodies in the world.

And it kept them warm.
But they've outgrown it now. They still need warmth, but not from you, sweater.
And I try not to identify with the sweater, try not to think of the day they will grow out of me, the day when they will need warmth and love, but they will be too big to be satisfied with only mine.
The fall wind blows and the leaves rustle as I fold the sweater, slowly.I gaze past the bunk beds, through the window, and I watch the bright colors fall.
Again I pray, Father, grow me up as you grow them up.Teach me to rejoice in the changing of seasons.
-----------Do you reminisce when you get out the fall clothes?How do you feel about the changing of seasons?
Link up with me!Please share your fall posts below!

101 fall crock pot recipes!

(From Jill...)
 I love crock pot recipes, especially in the colder months. Being a homeschool mama, collecting and trying new crock pot recipes has become an obsession with me. My crock pot has become my best friend. I use it almost daily. It has made my life so much easier. I just throw in the ingredients and supper will be ready within a few hours. It is especially helpful on Sundays after church. To see the TOP 101 Fall Crock Pot list hop on over to Blessed Beyond a Doubt!

Do you think you can use your crock pot every day for a week?
It sounds heavenly to me... I think I might try it!

To Aggie, on her eighth birthday

Like me, you are task-oriented. If there is something that needs to be done, you want to get it done quickly.  You do your homework immediately when you come home from school, no prodding or nagging required.  You do not like loose ends hanging. You do not seem able to rest until that list is checked-off.  Oh my dear, I know just how you feel.
My list is long these days, Aggie. I barrel through it all day, and again after supper.  So often you beg me to set is aside, but many times, I cannot. We have a big family and a busy life, and there is much work to be done.
But I try to set it aside, especially in the evening, for your sake and for mine.
You brought home another Magic Tree House book yesterday, and you just knew I would love it. We curled up in my bed with Jack and Annie and traveled with them to the Amazon Rainforest.  This time, you read to me. And reading, for you, is not like checking page after page off your list. You are not in a hurry to get to the end of the book. You read with excitement when the action moves quickly, but you linger to laugh and question and delight in the story whenever the mood strikes you. Reading is an adventure, and I love to share this nightly adventure with you.
I have to confess, when you read to me, I do not always listen to every word. Sometimes, I close my eyes and just let the sound of your voice wash over me. Your sweet voice navigates words with expertise, and you read with such emotion. I marvel at your brain and your heart, and how God has given you such growth. God has made you a hard-worker, dear child, and you have so much to give and to do in this wide world. May God bless your busy hummingbird days, and may He also grant you many more days of adventure, both inside and outside of the wonderful world of books.
Aggie, I’m so glad God made me your mommy.Happy birthday.Love, Mom
Thank you, Father, for granting your daughter Aggie eight full years of life in this world. Thank you for her joy, her compassion, and her determination. Thank you for your care for her in both darkness and sunshine. Thank you for giving her safety in Your promises and Your constant care for her.  And Thank you, Father, for this moment of health and grace.  In Jesus’ name, Amen.

click here for more

It's Fall Y'all

 Fall just happens to be my favorite time of year!  I am excited to be teaming up with a few other bloggers for a week of fun fall posts!  
Here is the schedule:
Monday:  Slowly Natural ~ Fall Family FunTuesday:  Jill's Home Remedies ~ Fall Home RemediesWednesday: A Mama's Story  ~ Fall Preparations 101Thursday: Blessed Beyond A Doubt  ~ Fall Recipes GaloreFriday: Weak and Loved  ~ Celebrating the Season Changes
In celebration of fall, I'm sharing my 3 favorite DIY home remedy recipes that I prepare for my family for the coming winter months.

To read more, hop over to Jill's Home Remedies to read her 3 must-have Fall Home Remedies!

I have to take the medicine, too.

“Weak” is not a four-letter bad word. Hiding behind a mask of strength and responsibility is a lonely place to live. 
That mask portrays to the world around us that we have it all together, that we can handle the mess, that we don’t’ need people, or worse, that we don’t need God.” Grace for the Good Girl, p. 85
And Jesus said,
"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." (Matthew 11:29)Seriously. Just. Come.
I am taking this to heart today, accepting help simply because I need it.  I prayed for help, and He sent help with skin on. And I took it.

It is unnatural, and so, the guilty feelings come.
It's almost like I am allergic to being the helped-one. Or maybe it's like exercise... painful at first, but the more you do it, the more you see that you need it and that it is good for you. 

At this point, this is just a theory.
[image error]
My husband took the little boys to town just to give me extra peace today, just because I need it.
I could  have barreled on through, We would have survived a grumpy morning of taking care of them and counting the minutes until nap time... but he helped, and now my house is quiet, and I am breathing in.

God, replace my guilt with gratitude. Thank you for being a God who cares for the weak and the tired, and who invites us to rest.

Thank you for caring for me through my husband and friends today. Amen.

Read along with us! Join the Grace for the Good Girl Book Club.

It's Fall Y'all

This week, I am participating in a fun fall blog hop!

Please check out the following blogs for great fall ideas, and if you are a blogger, be sure to link up your own! I can't wait to read your posts!

Monday: Find some great ideas for Fall Family Fun at Slowly Natural.
Tuesday visit Jill's Home Remedies and learn about Home Remedies. 
Wednesday: Check out A Mama's Story for her Fall Prep 101 tips
Thursday: Visit Blessed Beyond a Doubt to gather some great fall recipies!
Friday, come here, where I'll get nostalgic about a certain sweater.


Remember- these are blog hops! If you are a blogger, be sure to link up your best fall posts throughout the week!

This book is hard on my awesomeness.

Reading through grace for the Good Girl is not like taking a luxurious bubble bath in grace and having someone tell you how awesome you are.
It’s actually quite the opposite.Are you finding this book hard? Challenging and frustrating? Are you arguing with it in your head a bit? Are you annoyed with the author and yourself and anxious to get to the part of the book that tells us all how to FIX this?
Here are a few things I have learned about myself so far: I hide behind my performance. I want to be the need-meeter, not the needy one.I hide behind my reputation. I want to look good and have people like me.I hide behind my fake “fine.” I want to be strong in front of everyone at all times.I hide behind my acts of service. I want to earn acceptance, love, approval. I don’t want a handout.
When I’m not how I wish I would be, I choose faking it over honesty. I choose hiding over allowing you to help me. I choose pride over reality.
This book reaffirms what I learn about myself from Scripture. I am not the “good girl” I would like to be. These things that I do that look so great- I often do them out of fear, guilt, or selfish ambition. Even my best works are tainted with selfishness. The author is tearing off our masks and helping us see the ugliness in our quest to be “good.”
And it’s painful.
I try to justify myself when this happens. I argue that it IS good to be strong, to serve and meet needs and look good and have people like you and work hard. I insist, it IS good for other people! And, of course, it can be. But that’s not why I do it. It’s just a nice side-effect, something that happens naturally to a good girl as she’s working hard to show the world her awesomeness.
And as for my hiding- I can justify that, too. I don’t want to be whiney! I don’t want to offend or cause conflict! I don’t want to get emotional, because honestly, I’m afraid you might get hurt. Or I might.
So I stay hidden, where it seems safe.But it is not safe. There is sin in the working and in the hiding, and suddenly I see that I am not safe.
And it gets worse, for the try-hard girl.
 She can handle a bad grade, as long as you give her the study guide so she can do better next time.She can handle being told she’s wrong, if what comes next is the answer. The list.The Game Plan, so she can follow the Right Rules, and again make herself secure in her awesomeness.
But the author does not give us this, nor does Scripture.
Instead, we are invited to trust.To look to Jesus, who kept the rulebook for us, and to accept His A+ as our own.We are invited to love and be loved.We are invited to live without a Game Plan, because by grace we have been saved.We can let go of our awesomeness, and instead, trust in His.
This new life, the one under grace but not under law, is radically different. It is scary, and sometimes, we long for the false security of rules and Law. 
But there is no security there, dear sisters.
Security is to be found only in Him.

[image error] Righteousness in the presence of God must always be the gift of God, for only Christ can fully, perfectly, and most scrupulously satisfy the law of God.  (Learn more about Law and Gospel- Read the full article here)
Do you cling too tightly to your own awesomeness?

Jesus, Scatter my darkness.

“…think of yourself as both the blackest night and the sun in all its brilliance. As the sun rises in the sky, it becomes more and more dominant. It chases the darkness away. The darkness is not gone, and if the sun stops shining, the darkness will return as dark as it was before. But as long as the sun shines, it has its way, and the world is bathed in light.” Gospel Motivation by Robert J Koester p. 52


"Apart from me, you can do nothing." John 15:5

Leaving Home and Missing Home

I was having my ‘mommy time’ while they were napping, checking in on my social media world.

Innocently, I clicked on a video that my dad posted on facebook:



Suddenly, I wasn't a mommy taking a break.
I was a daughter, a little girl, bawling over my keyboard, and missing home.


We had a couple over for dinner today for premarital counseling. It seems odd to me that “these young kids” should be coming to us for premarital counseling.  Didn’t we just get married ourselves? Yes, just twelve years ago. Six kids ago. A lifetime ago. Yesterday.

Sometimes I want to be the little girl still at home. I want to climb trees and crack chestnuts again. I want to pick flowers and have someone else tell me to watch for cars on the road.  I want to “help” my mom plant flowers and get distracted by a juicy earthworm that would make a great pet. I want to smell my laundry clean and fresh in my drawers, and I want the mom who washed it and put it there to be there still, in the kitchen or in her flower bed, at her home and my home and our home.

I want a big hug from an aunt or an uncle or a father or a grandpa that smells like cigarettes and love.

I want to have a flour fight with my sister. I want to play with her in the waves of Lake Michigan in a body that has never been stretched by a baby. I want to go dune jumping.

I want to stay up late talking politics and eating ice cream with my dad.  I want him to make a fire for us and get out the guitar again, and sing to me while I watch the smoke rise to the stars. I want to lay on the couch, stomach full of potato chips, and fall asleep to the background noise of a football game, or Fox News.  I want to wake up and discover that a soft blanket magically covered me where I rested all night.

But I can’t. I grew up. I didn’t mean to.It just happened.
I graduated, went to college, and my prince swept me away. We became one flesh, obeyed the command to “leave and cleave,” and our leaving and cleaving and loving spilled over into a beautiful new family.

The “young kids” that were here today are preparing to leave and cleave.  I imagine the day when my daughters are grown, and I can see now as I couldn’t then, how the leaving is a loss for the parents, even in the happiest circumstances. And the "kids" don’t understand. They can’t understand. I know I didn’t understand.

And I love this place, this new home, with the corn fields and the Cheerios and the diaper bags and the two-wheelers and the wine when the kids are in bed.  I love this place, this life, and the God who was faithful to me then and is still now.

I’m not the little girl in the chestnut tree any longer, though I do climb trees with my children.  And I tell them not to grow, but they grow, insisting, “Mommy, I can’t help it! God makes me grow!”

It is odd, and my children agree, this fact that I AM a mom, and I also HAVE a mom, and a dad, too. Why would you need a mom or dad? You don't need spankings, and you know how to make food!  Yes, it's different, kids. I do not have the type of mom or dad that plays Sorry with me, or finds my lost blanket.

Things change, children, but with God’s help we change together like seasons, each with its own unique beauty.

The bond between parent and child is not a kind that can be severed by time or geography or seasons. With God’s help it ages like wine, becomes something deeper, stronger, and sweeter even than the days of Care Bears and tickle fights.

Home is no longer home, but it is always like home where they are.And that thing I really ache for, it is not the climbing tree or the mashed potatoes. It is the unconditional love, and the being cared-for.

And I have that right here, in my other home.
My parents’ care and God’s care remind me of home and of Home.

And this new, far-away relationship with my own mom and dad is being made something new, yet older and different. And I don’t really know what it is supposed to look like.

I am learning again, flailing around like I did when my dad first taught me how to swim.

Father, 
Thank you for memories of home even as I am far from home. Bless my parents, and me too, as we are still growing up, and we just can't help it. Bless us as we grow and we flail and we change like the seasons. Keep us safe in Your grace and in Your love for us.
In Jesus' name, Amen.


Love you, mom and dad!


-----------What do you miss about your childhood home?How has your relationship changed with your parents since you’ve been out of the house?