Here I Raise My Ebenezer

We've had three positive pregnancy tests in the last 8 years, and I cried over every one. Maybe every woman does. Our hormones are confused, and pregnancy is some pretty major news to receive from a pee-soaked stick.

I've already shared a little on the circumstances surrounding our first pregnancy. That Clear Blue "Pregnant" announcement sent me into a confused laugh-cry in the stall of the girls' dorm bathroom.

Two years later, after our wedding, college graduations, and a salary, we decided maybe it was time to start trying for that second baby. So that news shouldn't have been too much of a shock. Except that the pee proved positive on the same day we got news of a job loss. Hello, tears. It was supposed to be different this time.

Almost three years later, we went back and forth on the family planning discussion. Tight finances and stress over the two kids we already had made having another seem a little careless and irresponsible. I came around to calling it quits on our baby-havin' days and got our third positive that same month. Tears were familiar by this point as Psalm 127 became my new mantra that we were blessed to have our hands full of kids.

I share this because right there is where the seeds of our family were planted. Psalm 127:4 says that children of ones youth "are like arrows in the hands of a warrior." I've always pictured that to be a brave and heroic analogy. Until recently. I noticed the similarities in the rash, impulsive warrior-like way we've jumped into this whole parenthood thing. And the ways it plays out on a daily basis.

Last week I had just such a warrior-like "day" with the kids. Whenever I talk about these after they happen, I can't help but notice my own whinyness and petty complaints. Let's chalk it up to warrior-like parenting in my youth. Some days feel like a war-zone, and I'm not talking about the state of my house.

I can't fully describe the behavior now because it all sounds so trivial. It involved screaming fits and hearing "mommy, mommy, mommy!" literally at least 100 times with the best whine-cry one could muster. The kids all-out fighting in the back seat--hitting, pulling hair, biting, using toys as weapons. Hearing "I don't like you" and "I'm going to punch you" and literal screams our whole way into The Y for swimming lessons. Giving instructions 10 times and still doing it myself because obviously I was losing that day.

The list continues, but those aren't even the issue now. The kids have moved on and it's as if that day never happened for them.

However, that day, like many others, I was a struggling wounded warrior. Phrases like "worst day ever" and "I really don't know if I'll survive" and "I'm not cut out for this" and "I simply can't go on like this" and "I'm seriously about to break/explode" swirled in my head.

Of course, I attempted to counter them with positives and truth. "Trina, stop being over-dramatic. You are going to survive. Just get through the next few moments, you'll feel better." Then something else would happen and it would all start over. My back tensed up, I'd find myself holding my breath, and I prayed we'd all survive.

Later that day, we dropped the kids off at our friend's so we could go on a date. I could still hear "mommy" ringing in my ears. I told Daniel about how several times all I could think was how I wish I could go back to 20-year-old Trina and tell her to not become a mother, that she'd be terrible at it, and her kids would drive her 50 shades of insane, and yell mean things at her, and she should just pursue a career and travel.

It's funny when I look back on it now. But when I shared that confession with Daniel, I broke down because I wanted to take it all back. The tears over positive pregnancy tests, the years at home, the sacrificed sanity. And while I knew I didn't really want to take it all back, there's a piece of me in that moment that did and that broke my heart. For me and for them.

At one point earlier that day, Ian's timeout was over so I asked why he was there. He just screamed "mommy" fast and whiny saying he wanted to tell me something. I said no, we'd finish timeout then he could tell me. He threw another big fit about it, so I walked away. After a while of this, I zoned out and gave up. He was in the hall, still throwing a fit about wanting to tell me something. I gave in and said fine, forget about the timeout, just tell me. He calmed way down, and in a clear voice told me he saw a caterpillar when he was playing at school.

That was it. All he wanted to tell me. He saw a caterpillar and wanted to share that moment with me.

So many things thundered together in that moment. The little rainbow breaks God sends in even the worst days. The patience and calmer approach I need from Him to sustain me when the kids stress me out. The tag-teaming or coming-at-me-all-at-once with the whining and crying and fighting and mommying that makes winning these battles seem impossible.

This parenting in my youth is like an on-edge warrior armed with nothing but a quiver full of spastic arrows and the belief this is all somehow a heritage and reward from the Lord.

And so it is in the Kingdom Life. Because it's not about having it good here. It's about the hereafter and what better reward than for my lifework to be a commissioning to train up these little Kingdom Citizens.

That evening, with the mommy-ringing slowly quieting in my ears, I raised my ebenezer. A memorial stone for one day in the future when I'll inevitably forget all of this. I'll have distorted memories of motherhood in my 20s and roll my eyes at my own petty complaints. I'll lean over to other young warrior moms in stores and say naive things like, "Enjoy this! It goes so fast!"

Part of me holds onto the hope that I will forget. That my reward would be the sweet gift of selective amnesia where I hold onto the precious moments and forget the war of it all.

Mostly, though, I don't want to forget. Because forgetting would mean neglecting the ways God has led. Downplaying His call for me, the reward He's given, and the battles we've won in Him. No, I don't want to ever forget until He erases it at His coming.

So "here I raise my ebenezer, hither by Thy help I've come." Ebenezer. Stone of Help. Like when Samuel marked the place where God thundered to help them win a battle. Samuel said, "This marks the place where God helped us." (1 Samuel 7:12)

Or when Joshua told the people to carry a stone from the river they just crossed on dry ground so they'd "have something later to mark the occasion. When your children ask you, 'What are these stones to you?'" they'd tell about how God led by His power and say, "These stones are a permanent memorial." (Joshua 4:4-7)

As that day, and others like it (ah hem, today), runs through my head, I pause to raise my ebenezer. A memorial stone, or three, to remember all the ways God has led and continues to lead in our lives. Especially in this warrior-like arrow-filled place called motherhood.

A reminder, one day when the kids are gone and I'm not entwined in their every need, that I was once a warrior with my hands and life and breath overtaken with these three arrows. And by God's grace I'm accepting the heritage and reward of it all--embracing it even, and making it through each battle with Him.

I made a re-commitment that night to God and to this thing we started in our youth and continue for the rest of our lives. My resolve to not send messages back to 20-year-old Trina, but instead be the warrior God sees in me for them. Brave, courageous, maybe a little rash and reckless. But not reckless in the things that matter. Sending those arrows to meet their enemies at the gate. Living courageously with faith in God--loving Him and His people. And training our arrows to live the same.

I'm all in. For these kids. For living this life without regrets. For living with the passion and drive and focus of a God-called warrior. For God and for these arrows awarded as our heritage.

>>>

also read:
new? start here...
courageous at home
dear moms: i'm sorry
our wedding story, shame-free

Every Little Breath

Today, I'm offering a little e-reading for you. Imagine you're sitting in a sweet little book store, the warm smell of coffee filling your senses, as Deidra's welcoming voice reads the following excerpt from her new book Every Little Thing (*aff. link):

When everyone seems to be upping the ante and raising the qualifications for what it means to impact the world in meaningful ways or to live a significant life, we write our story with our breath and we make space on the earth for God. 

Sometimes breathing is the only prayer we can pray, and God hears our sigh and once again breathes the breath of life into us. We exhale, and it seems like such a little thing. But some days it is everything. It is communion--intimate and more than breathing oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide. It is sacred and it is holy: this agreeing with God that we need God, for all of everything, and his joyful entering into our lives and ourselves and our very souls to make us one with him. We are gulping and breathing and sighing and gasping, and we realize our deep, deep hunger inside. (pp. 102-103)

Maybe these words stand out because I need more breathing in my life. Not the short breaths that take over when stress wells up in my back and shoulders. The deep and real breaths that happen when I slow and am still enough to know God and be in His presence.

Making a difference in the world is an enticing thing with promise of mission and purpose and holy success.

Except that we often make our real purpose in God secondary. We imagine success something different than Jesus taught it to be, the opposite of smallness. We idolize stories of the Bible turning all of their lifelong stories into one giant of a godly superhero missing their own areas of smallness and surrender and that God really is the beginning, middle, and end.

I've read several "world-changer" type books that inspire me to take action, to embrace my calling in Christ and do something.

I appreciate what Deidra adds to the conversation. A starting place of sorts that's right here where I am or right there where you are. Like middle-aged Moses shepherding in the wilderness before receiving a direct calling by God or Joseph enduring prison before ever seeing his dreams come true or even Jesus living into adulthood before His own short and powerful 3-year ministry.

As Deidra put it, "We either want God or we want significance. ... Our significance actually arrives through the surrendering of significance."

May you realize that God is right there with you and has significance for you with each little breath you take. You can make a difference, and it starts now in this moment.

If you need a companion and some inspiration in that journey, checkout Deidra Riggs' book here >> Every Little Thing: Making a World of Difference Right Where You Are.

>>>

also see:
new? start here...
how to change + be the change
emails to grow your life

*Note: Affiliate links used in this post. Any purchases through these links could earn me a small commission with no extra cost to you. Thank you for your support!

When You Need Bread and the Church Says "No"

We decided to break up a 90-plus degree week with a lemonade stand. Instead of making money, the kids are excited to give it away for free--just a refreshing treat for our equally hot neighbors.

Cars drive by, someone walks a dog, a mom and some kids ride their bikes. No one is stopping. My 7-year-old thinks maybe they don't see, because who doesn't want free lemonade? Plus, they're not even looking--all eyes gaze straight ahead as they pass.

I tell her the people see. There's nothing blocking their view--no trees or fence or yard clutter. They've simply already decided they don't want it, so they choose not to look as they pass.

She asks why and as I attempt to explain it, I realize it happens all the time to homeless people. They hold their signs and people don't even want to look them in the eye, because if we look, we might feel obligated to help. We might feel a personal responsibility to do something. And the truth is, we don't want what they're offering--an opportunity to love that comes with the cost of ourselves.

She responds with an empathetic "But that's not nice." So we agree to at least make eye contact and wave or say "hi" when we see someone in need.

Maybe, loving is at least looking. Because "I didn't see him" isn't going to pull one over on Jesus when He asks us "what did you do to help?" And maybe, when we have nothing to give, seeing is enough to love.

Passersby smiling and waving and acknowledging my kids would have been a lot less disheartening than somber faces focused on the road ahead.

And I imagine our heavenly Father saying the same thing. Smiles don't feed bellies, but they sure can give hope to the lost heart. And Jesus was and is all about saving the lost.

I've experienced another type of overlooking. It happens in church. I've shared before the complacency I see filling church pews. Sure, change has to start somewhere so why not with me. It's what I'm told; it's what I believe.

There's a point when we need a little encouragement, a little support, perhaps a smile and a wave, or a little "bread" to keep on the journey. A reminder we're not in this alone.

That's what Gideon and his men needed: Bread. Literally, a little nourishment as he and his tiny troop hunted down the two kings of Midian. A God-given mission with a God-given promise of victory. They were passing through Succoth and he asked for bread for his men.

The leaders at Succoth said, "You're on a wild goose chase; why should we help you on a fool's errand?" (Judges 8:4-6, The Message)

Sound familiar?

That homeless man just wants booze, why should I help him? That desperate woman at Planned Parenthood is a baby-killer, that gay couple has an "agenda," those young people want to change the church until it's not church anymore. Why would we want part in that? We're not entering into that mess.

Face somber, eyes straight ahead on "the mission."

Just as God promised, they caught the two kings of Midian. Gideon went back to the leaders of Succoth: "Here are the men you said I'd never catch."

This wouldn't have gone any other way. Psalm 111 says that God "proved to His people that He could do what He said: hand them the nations on a platter."

Great! We're waiting Lord, hand us our victory.

Then, we see the Israelites being pursued by the Egyptians, Gideon and his men chasing down the Midianite kings without support, a shepherd boy armed with stones standing before a giant, a free-girl meeting resistance when she claims the bus seat that is hers. The list is never-ending.

What happened to the victory God promised? Why these obstacles?

Psalm 111 continues: "The good life begins in the fear of God--Do that and you'll know the blessing of God."

The good comes. God promises it and He's faithful. And it begins in our fear of Him. Standing through the fires, persevering through resistance. Realizing that He gets the glory when we don't have see-able human help--when support is withheld and nothing but God's promise of victory remains.

Will we stand strong in Him or let the real or perceived "leaders" discourage us?

I realize for people "gifted with frustration" in church, for much of my generation, and for those receiving practical eviction notices from their church, this message feels like a broken record: "'Stay in church.' I get it already!"

More than that, know where your bread ultimately comes from. It comes from the Lord. The One who calls you, gives your mission, and promises you victory. How He feeds it to you will vary. Maybe from the mouths of ravens, rained down from Heaven, or offered from a generous boy's own loaves and fish.

The question is: Will we stand strong to the end to find out?

Fear God.... know His blessing.

Experiencing God's blessing firsthand also means meeting resistance, which means a chance to choose who I'll fear--God or man.

When I choose, may I remember the One who calls me, equips me, promises victory, and provides the bread along the way.

I love how The Message shares Paul's words in Colossians 1:26-29: "Christ... That is the substance of our Message... no more, no less. That's what I'm working so hard at day after day, year after year, doing my best with the energy God so generously gives me."

It wasn't long before my kids jumped their fruitless lemonade-stand and took a break in the sprinkler. So that's always an option. Hold your cries of "blasphemy" until you hear me out.

I'll spare you the details of my own denomination's recent decisions. What I have to say to my fellow Adventists is relevant for all of us Christians.

To the people frustrated with your church's disheartening declarations: I commiserate with you. I also point you to the above. Our bread, our encouragement, our support, our call, our victory comes from God, not man.

For those giving up, or on the verge of giving up, on your church: In my own way, I get it. It's about so much more than what's on the surface. Your struggles are deeper and not trivial and I see you in that.

I appreciate our local pastors' response to listen and keep the conversation going. I have started to find a little niche of encouragement in this community, and am so grateful.

What's made me pause is the recited responses I keep reading and hearing that we all need to "respect the church's decision," and that with a worldwide church it's hard to please everyone, accommodate all cultures, and keep everyone on the same page.

That page should be Christ: No more, no less. When "the church" (any church, individually or as a denomination) starts imposing decisions that are more or less than that, then I get skeptical.

There's an author that describes Jesus' ongoing struggle against church leadership while He lived on Earth. She writes about His heart for them and how they just weren't getting it, so he "departed from Jerusalem, from the priests, the temple, the religious leaders, the people who had been instructed in the law, and turned to another class to proclaim His message, and to gather out those who should carry the gospel to all nations."

She goes on to write how the light of Christ has been rejected in every generation since. "Often those who follow in the steps of the Reformers are forced to turn away from the churches they love, in order to declare the plain teaching of the Word of God." (The Desire of Ages, p. 232)

More than any one church, I believe in the mission of Christ: No more, no less.

The mission isn't the church, the mission is Christ.

I am sorry for all the times I and the various aspects of the Christian church have not gotten that right.

If our local church isn't going to remember that, then maybe it's up to us--frustrated, overlooked, and unsupported as we are.

Change has to start somewhere--why not with me and you?

Not changing church politics. Even Jesus never made that His mission. But being the change because we are the church. Not because we identify with a certain denomination or attend a specific church building. We are the church when we make Christ's mission our mission--His light, His truth, His love, His glory.

It is reckless to insist "respect the church" is a suitable response to anyone. I don't know other's individual experiences with church, but I know there are plenty of cases of churches and leaders figuratively denying bread against God's calling. And I can't tell you to respect that.

Respect God. Do that and I fully trust He will lead you and me where we need to be to profess the plain teaching of Christ. To remain in His will for our lives--for ourselves, sure, but more for a lost world that He came to save.

Should that land you elsewhere--outside your current church or denominational titles--take the light of Christ with you. Be the church with those around you. Not at the expense of bad-mouthing the ones you leave, but with fear of God. His calling, His mission, His victory.

You're not in this alone.

Remember the One who calls you, equips you, promises victory, and provides the bread along the way.

>>>

also read:
if you feel like quitting church
if you've quit church
monthly dose of simple

If You've Quit Church, Read This

People quit attending church for a variety of reasons. I can only tell my experience, and for me, quitting church was never about quitting God. Initially, it wasn't really about intentionally quitting anything.

A sequence of inspired readings pointed me to Jesus as I had never met Him before. I prayed prayers realer than I had ever experienced. And as I drew closer to the heart of God I saw His power unleashed in places I never thought to look.

The closer I got to Him, the more I saw Him freely moving beyond the humanized structure of church--and I wanted to be part of it.

I wrote about this realization of quitting church >> here a couple years ago.

It wasn't all because of sickness or Daniel's travel schedule or the impossibility of keeping a stubborn 2-year-old quiet for over an hour. Those were good, sometimes even legitimate, excuses, but the deeper truth was my frustrations with church. I shared that story and encouraged others like me to view that frustration as a gift, to be courageous and not quit.

The follow-up to that post is simple: We did quit.

We unintentionally quit the sanctuary rituals of praise music and congregational prayer and a weekly sermon. We returned a few select times--like the dedication of our third baby along with several of his cousins. Or the weekend my parents kept the kids, when we decided to show up to church for the first time in a while.

It didn't seem we were missing much in our absence. Largely because we didn't quit God and we didn't quit living with and for Him.

We continued showing up at home. Taking on the humbling task of training our little arrows to be courageous God-followers (based on Psalm 127:4). Or at least love each other and stop yelling "I don't like you" when they're upset. We're making slow progress on that last one. I pray they experience faith and life beyond the mold of safe Christianity.

I continued showing up to our church's Mom's Cafe. Teaming up with other moms as we serve each other and encourage each other in that arrow-training mentioned above. Taking my turn to make brunch and finding a miracle in broken eggs, or sharing about how God sends Jesus-notes to help on the hard days of motherhood. Simply talking and sharing life as we attempt to raise courageous God-followers. Making our best attempt in God's grace is all we can do.

We continued showing up during Sabbath School. A time when the kids get the story of Jesus in language they understand with their own community. Meanwhile, we mingled with other young-hearted adults wondering if we're still arrows--is it too late for us to be courageous God-followers, too?

Lately, a few of us meet, chat, drink coffee, and take turns reading a book. Then we discuss from the context of life, where we hint at the challenges of finding courage in our play-it-safe and by-the-rules church.

I can sense it, though we don't always discuss it directly, we all want the same thing--more of Jesus. More of His power unleashed in real ways in our lives. More of His free movement--where His limitless Kingdom sets the rules, not the limitations of our humanity. I know He has a courageous call for His followers, and I believe I'm not the only one that wants to be part of it.

Between showing up and getting involved in conversations, I see ripples of this movement all taking place outside of traditional sit-stand-and-amen church.

I'm not ashamed of that, although maybe a little confused by it.

I'm told traditional church is where we worship and where we fellowship, and I must be missing out on both if I don't attend. But I've found that's not true. It's only after we tried that on for ourselves outside of church, that we've started attending again.

We've spent enough time figuring things out outside of church. I've faced my frustration--that if my time is limited, why not opt for an interactive, alive time with and for Jesus, rather than whatever church had become. Which seemed to be loved-people hoarding more love.

I wondered, what about healing (which requires admitting we're sick) and experience-telling (which requires room for us all to speak) and teaming up in Gospel-sharing (which happens with "outsiders")?

I unintentionally discovered some of that with Mom's Cafe, casual Sabbath morning readings, mastermind meetings, conversations with friends, and personal devotional time.

Now, we're showing up at church again. Making some small effort to be part of the team. Bringing some of that power of God we've been experiencing with us. Courageous God-followers showing up makes a difference, and we've barely just started seeing what that really means. Sure, in church. But everywhere else, too.

It's kind of like my husband's softball team. The team started now 5 years ago. I think one of their only wins the first summer was when the team they were scheduled to play had to forfeit. The next year they might have won a few, but didn't make it past the playoffs.

By the 4th year, their game had changed. They were beating the good teams. They were winning by a lot. They were undefeated. My husband even hit his first couple homeruns. Watching their games was exciting--a true underdog story--and they made it to the championship game.

Then, they lost it.

It was the first game in 4 years that several key players all at once couldn't make it. The one game that really mattered. The one game they'd aimed for each season. And they didn't even have a fair chance because their team wasn't all there.

Church... God-followers... People on the fence or those who have flat-out given up: We've made it to the championship game. Whether Jesus comes in our lifetime or not doesn't really matter. Either way, we only have one life. This is it. Jesus has brought us through the playoffs. We can't afford to lose this one on account of not showing up.

Spoiler alert: showing up wins us, mere underdogs, the game.

And I'm not going to lay out what showing up specifically means, because that will look different for each of us and evolves throughout our lives.

What I've experienced, showing up isn't a repetitive motion just for its own sake. Showing up involves heart-felt prayers for God's Kingdom to show up here as it is in Heaven. It involves seeing God's power where it is and not trying to limit it with textbook religion. It might feel awkward or heavy at times, but we have the hope of a reward we can only imagine because we trust its Creator.

Showing up happens with our own families and in our own homes. It takes place with the neighbor kids or that group we formed in real life from online connections. Showing up is 24/7 wherever we are and with whomever we interact.

It might require some trial and error as we figure out where God's calling us. My experiences lately are just the tiny-step beginnings of showing up in my own life.

I'm finding it might even mean getting our butts back in church because there's a whole generation of arrows waiting for permission to be courageous God-followers. And maybe we're just the testimony they need to know it's possible. Or maybe we need encouragement from each other to know its possible.

Did you think you were the only one feeling this way? The only one being led to something more?

I've made that false assumption before.

It's time to think again, and look around us. The conversation is going on everywhere. The ripples are moving everywhere. The feelings are, more often than not, mutual.

It's no secret what a power our testimony is and what happens when we join together in Jesus' name. There's a sneaky snake that would like us to believe what we can do on our own is enough. That if Jesus' power was seen outside of church then we have every reason to not return.

I hope we start to see those thoughts as they are--lies attempting to dilute the power of the Truth.

And the truth is this: All of life is about love for God and love for others. Not just one of those, but both together. Our devotional life is an important start that must ripple out. Meeting Jesus and experiencing His power leads to action. It leads to ministry that touches lives--working with and for people.

Wherever we experience Jesus' power, it must be taken where it is lacking in this world--our homes, our towns, and, yes, even our churches. Showing up with our testimony of Jesus' love and with the invitation for others to experience it, too.

It will be frustrating at times. It might even feel like we're alone in this.

But we can't give up.

We are His arrows. Let's courageously follow His lead. In our home, in our town, in our churches, and beyond.

We're in the championship game. Let's show up in the power of Jesus and win this thing. Shall we?

>>>

also read:
the church needs you to be courageous
your family needs you to be courageous
monthly emails

Giving When You Have Nothing to Give

Who wants to join me going into this giving season... giving?

I've been toying with the idea of a toy-less Christmas. Essentially replacing indulging my privileged children with giving to underprivileged children. I wouldn't do this without their involvement. I don't want them to look back on this time with longing for things. That would certainly be contradictory to the whole point.

And the point is giving. And teaching that lifestyle to my children.

I'm not sure I can pinpoint when I learned to give. Many times I think I'm still in the trenches learning this essential lifestyle. Sure, I'm on board with giving. But usually after I get. Usually after we're blessed with an income, then we'll give tithe. If we can cover our needs and a couple wants, then we'll donate to a charity. After we receive our tax refund each spring, then we sponsor a little girl in India named Poojitha.

Sadly, we usually only give after we receive.

Maybe that pattern is not entirely a bad thing. The only way we're able to give anything of importance is by receiving the gift of Jesus Christ. The problem comes when we make our giving contingent on material gains. Jesus was not and is not material, so limiting our giving by what we can materially manage is limiting His power to work in our lives.

In Love Skip Jump Shelene Bryan says, "I believe too many Christians have been lulled, pacified, and numbed into the cradle of the modern 'easy life.' The effect of this has been that we don't need God. We don't really need Him to accomplish what we are doing."

That's certainly my problem. Lately we give 10% and not much more, because we don't have much more. We give through ourselves, not Jesus. We live on our limited power and possessions, not His power and provisions from the stores of His entire Kingdom. The result is that we take for ourselves first, and then we don't usually have anything leftover to give to others.

Many times over God has worked miracles with our finances. Lately, I've come to expect starting the month with an unbalanced budget. Unbalanced in the negatives, just to clarify. By the end of the month, He has worked miracles with our budget. Not always in visible ways, either. Even though I closely monitor our budget, I'm not usually able to pinpoint how we pay all our bills, buy our normal amounts of food, and end the month with a balanced budget. But it happens and I know it's by the power of Jesus and His provisions.

It's incredible!

However, I don't believe Jesus blesses us simply for us to be blessed.

Is our balanced budget all He's after? Not really. If that were the case, then He's just buying us time until the new year when our monthly medical bills practically disappear along with His power. I believe He's doing more than just buying us time, because this story isn't really about us, it's about Him. Our budget miracles are for His glory.

And I think He really gets the glory when we give despite having nothing to give.

Giving from Him, not from ourselves.

This weekend a group of us discussed the "Profile of the Lukewarm" from the book Crazy Love. In this chapter, Francis Chan describes what lukewarm so-called Christians might do or what their lives might look like. Here are bits from 7 of the 18 statements that stuck out to me in regards to my sad giving habits.

Lukewarm people...

• ...give money to charity and to the church if they have a little extra and it is easy and safe to give. (1 Chron. 21:24, Luke 21:1-4)
• ...give Jesus only a section of their time, money, and thoughts. (Luke 9:57-62)
• ...love others, but typically focus on those who love them in return. (Luke 14:12-14)
• ...will serve God and others, but have limits to how far they will go. (Luke 18:21-25)
• ...are thankful for their luxuries and rarely consider trying to give as much as possible to the poor. (Matt. 25:34, 40; Isa. 58:6-7)
• ...give/do whatever is necessary to keep from feeling too guilty. (1 Chron. 29:14; Matt. 13:44-46)
• ...structure their lives to not have to trust God. (Luke 12:16-21; Heb. 11)

This sort of thinking is natural to most of us and even rationalized. The truth of Jesus' call has certainly made me fidget. What about our bills and caring for our children? God doesn't really want me to be irresponsible with my finances, right?

He never called us to be irresponsible, but certainly made it clear we need to not fear and instead trust Him. And that is the goal this giving season and beyond.

Fear and trust Him. With our finances and with our giving.

The first time December was more about giving than what I'd receive for Christmas, was when I was around 10. There were 3 siblings my age and younger that sometimes showed up to church. The youngest not as much, because his heart condition often landed him in the hospital. It was clear that bathing was not a routine occurrence for them. And their toes often peeked through tattered shoes.

The time I knew something needed to be done was when one of the girls came to church during a Midwest winter with no coat and, after accidentally exposing herself, apparently no undergarments. I went home that day and asked my mom if I could give the girl my coat (I had recently upgraded to a Chiefs starter jacket handed down from my brother), and if we could buy them new socks and underwear.

She went with it and got other family involved too. By the time we visited their humble rundown home, we had a good-sized box for each child with coats, packages of undergarments, and even some toys. There was also a box of fresh citrus and other foods for the parents. The kids excitedly opened their packages as the parents looked on and smiled. They were hard to understand when they spoke even though their first language was English, but their gratitude was clear without words.

That is such a good memory to me, but I'm sad that so far it's only a memory.

It hasn't become habit. My own kids haven't experienced this sort of giving. Christmases haven't been more about others and their needs than it has been about us and our wants. Yet.

There is still time to change. And this season is as good a time as any.

I've got to be honest and tell you I don't exactly know where to start. I have a vision of where I want my life and our family to be in terms of giving, but the path there is a little unclear.

Here are some ideas I'm considering to take those first steps in giving...

1 | Donate on #GivingTuesday.

This is a good follow-up to the "gimmes" of Black Friday and Cyber Monday; a reminder and opportunity to give. Learn more about Giving Tuesday >> here. We'll donate to a favorite charity (like Tiny Hands International) or a local shelter and make this season about more than ourselves.

2 | Limit internal giving.

For the last couple years we've given the kids something to wear, something to read, and something to play with. Our budget for this is super low, and what we get usually fits pretty close to the "need" category. This year I'm wondering if we can skip the "something to play with" for a better 'cause like #3 below.

3 | Increase external giving.

I'd like the kids to choose an underprivileged child of the same gender to buy a present for. We don't really have extra funds for this, so I feel this is more a priority than buying for ourselves (see #2 above). There are usually trees around town that have papers with a child's info and wish list. Shelters and such likely have a wish list, too.

4 | Buy from companies that give.

Jen Hatmaker recently shared a list of such places. For instance, we buy our glasses from Warby Parker because they're designer quality for only $95 total, but they also donate a pair for each pair they sell. Check out Jen's list >> here for other companies that give back.

5 | Support fundraisers for a good cause.

My daughter's first grade class is selling Krispy Kreme donuts to buy presents for children at our local shelter. We will definitely be buying a dozen (or two ;) of donuts to share with others, and help support this good cause.

6 | Donate all money earned December 1-25.

We could certainly use the little bit of money earned here. For 25 days, however, we're going beyond the usual small giving and dedicating all of those earnings to the lives of others. For any sales of Simplicity vs., or any commissions earned from Warber Parker and PicMonkey affiliate links these 25 days, 100% of proceeds will go to Tiny Hands International. They rescue girls in danger of being trafficked in Nepal and surrounding areas. I wear my One Girl bracelet often, and appreciate the reminder to take these serious scenarios and the name of a specific girl to Jesus in prayer.


There is so much more that could be done, and so much more I'd like to do. This is a small start that I hope ripples into a year-round giving habit. Most of all, I hope to pass on a heritage of selfless giving to my children.

Not as the world gives, but as only Jesus can give through us.

Living with Love

Sometimes we mistakenly confuse living with working or other obligations that take a lot of our time. That can be both depressing and inaccurate. In our last years of life, most of us will look back to remember and cherish the seemingly smaller details—time spent doing things we love, in places we love, and with people we love. That is living.

Take some time to pause on those three things. Make room for them. And, if need be, adjust where you place your love.

1. Do things you love; and uncover the joy in everything you do.

2. Go to places you love; and find reasons to love where you are.

3. Invite the people you love; and choose to love those around you.

simplicity vs. series

Interrupted // The Struggle to Give Up

*Book provided by Tyndale House Publishers. See full note below.

Giveaway now closed; winner announced below.

>>>

Jen Hatmaker first challenged, inspired and moved me in her book 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess. Before I even got through the introduction, which is where I first learned about Interrupted, I was rethinking the way I live, the way I love, and how God might expect me to do both.

I knew I wanted needed to read Interrupted (which Jen refers to as the prequel to 7), but couldn't find it in our local library (and I'm cheap), so I ended up exploring a collection of other similar faith-into-action stories. The list of books I read (and recommend) includes:

• The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical by Shane Claiborne
• Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream by David Platt
• Crazy Love: Overwhelmed by a Relentless God by Francis Chan
• Under the Overpass: A Journey of Faith on the Streets of America by Mike Yankoski
• Safer Than a Known Way by Pamela Rosewell Moore (which I read as a teenager, but deserves a spot in this list)

Jen's "experimental mutiny against excess" challenged God's leading in my life and Interrupted brought the conversation full circle. The wrecking of my comfortable Christianity started years ago and now has new meaning and clarity. The conversation isn't finalized, but it's definitely progressing.

In the foreword, Jen's husband Brandon writes that missional living is about "intentionally living the gospel wherever you are."

As I think about all the books I read that inspired me on missional purpose-filled epic living, and the resulting tension I had between following Christ and my place in church, and the tension I felt in staying home with young kids vs. pursuing my passion--well, I realize in this one statement from Brandon that I missed one point about the Gospel: "...wherever you are."

I believe Jesus meant "Go into all nations." I also forget He did that Himself one town at a time. And I forget that right here where I am is part of "all nations." I forget that Jesus Himself had a short intensive 3-year ministry--and that His life leading up to that point mattered, and His mother's role preparing Him for that ministry mattered.

These aren't excuses to stay comfortable where I am--because I've said it before that I'm not wasn't comfortable in my role at home. These are simply fact. I don't need excess money to finally have half to give away. I don't have to relocate or go overseas. I don't have to volunteer a certain number of hours or reach out to a certain number of strangers. I simply have to intentionally live the Gospel. Wherever I am. (Sounds a little bit like "living simply with purpose where we are.")

Following Jesus will likely lead our family to uncomfortable places, relationships, and sacrifices. Following Him will also most likely look mundane in the day-to-day grind. And I have struggled to accept that version of "non-epic" living. It might not be included in the Gospels or its own book, but it's an essential part. It's necessary and important and special. It matters.

How I treat and talk about my kids and husband and friends matters. How I talk to and about my neighbors (and that I interact with them at all) matters. How I spend my time at home raising my kids, how I run our household, how I get involved in community and church, and that I do it all intentionally and missionally for the Gospel matters. This is where Jesus is currently using me to make a difference in the world. And it matters.

That's the context in which I read this book. I used to crave some epic adventure--to be used in big ways for God's glory. And Jen's words helped further my conversation with God on that. Her words deepened my understanding of service and salvation and bringing the Gospel into the world over and over starting with my own neighborhood.

What you take from her book will likely be entirely different depending on your current season of life and God's leading for you. (Because, despite the encouragement I got as a stay-at-home-mom, her book has nothing to do with that.)

Read the book and find out for yourself how God will use Jen's words to equip you. Enter below to win my copy of the book from Tyndale House Publishers, or purchase it >> here.

I'll leave you with one more thought from Brandon that describes the tension and hints at the resolution. (Sorry, Jen. I promise your words were powerful, too. Honest.)

If we're in the church for years yet aren't full, are we really hungry for more knowledge? In our busy lives, do we really need another program or event? Do we really need to be fed more of the Word, or are we simply undernourished from an absence of living the Word? Maybe we love God, but are we loving others? If our faith is about us, then we are not just hungry--our spirits are starving.

Learn more about Jen and her book Interrupted >> here. You'll also find a link-up of other reviews from her "Interrupted blog team" >> here.

Who's ready for a giveaway?!

Enter this Interrupted book giveaway one of three ways...

One entry given for each item completed.

1 | Answer the following in the comments below: What would you struggle to give up if Jesus wanted to use your life to make a difference in the world?

2 | Share about this giveaway and/or the book anywhere online with #interrupted, and leave a link to your post in the comments below.

3 | Subscribe for my Support for Your Journey e-mails (and receive the free Simple Road Map) >> here; let me know when you've done so below. (This is an easy entry if you've already subscribed; just let me know in the comments!)

Giveaway open thru Mon Aug 18 10pm CST. Check this post Tue Aug 19 to find out if you won!

Congrats Shelly Hartl! You are the winner! Contact me at beginnerbeans /at/ gmail.com to claim your prize.

>>>

related faith posts:

The Power of His Love
If You Feel Like Quitting Church, Read This First
Your Family Needs You to Be Courageous
Safer Than a Known Way


*note: This book was received from Tyndale House Publishers. Everything shared here is my own experiences and honest opinions. Thank you, Jen and Tyndale for this great book!

Living with Purpose When Life is Simple and Slow

Today's post is written by Alysa of Kitchen Fellowship. I'm introducing you to some of my online favorites while I take a bit of a maternity leave. I love Alysa's passion for fellowship, her knowledge of the kitchen, and her abundant ideas to bring those two together in a beautiful life-giving combo. Enjoy!

>>>

A Year of Simple Living

Trina’s blog is all about living simply with purpose where you are. So what does that look like? When you’re finally living a simplified life? A life of freedom?

A year ago I quit my “day job” to focus on my own business and work from home. I very deliberately extricated myself from extracurriculars: the volunteer jobs that people expected me to do but left me joyless, the obligations I normally say “yes” to,  the invitations too contrived, inauthentic gatherings.

I pressed into all things focused and simple. And boy did it feel incredible! Euphoric even. As the frenzied pace of my life slowed there was room for all that was important and meaningful.

But after a year -- strange questions started to surface. I felt funny. A bit unmoored. I wondered if my purpose was significant even if I wasn’t doing much. Because I had let activities and things (partially) define who I was for far too long, my identity began to feel shaky.

The other day my neighbor appeared to be readying his property for a poured cement driveway. The wood forms were in place. At a snail’s pace, he dug the grass out. And I sat sipping my coffee thinking, ‘I should go help him dig.’ Mostly because I couldn’t stand the painfully unhurried progress he made. That has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me.

Where does this come from?

It’s Time to Unlearn ‘Doing’ & Relearn ‘Being’

Maybe we’ve existed far too long in our overfilled schedules and overpacked lives. Maybe we’ve trained up our kids this way. Have we embraced this system for validation and worth and judged others by it too? Has it made an impression on us and sapped our ability to quickly grasp how beautiful and purpose-filled simple can be?

A friend of mine recently retired. Her biggest qualm arises when folks pointedly ask her, “So now that you’re retired, what do you DO?” As if a life devoid of doing is incomprehensible.

And when people ask me how things are going I’ll respond with, “Great. A little slow.” Their remarks usually take some form of, “We need to find you something to DO.” As if slow is atrocious. If “busy” is the only acceptable remark when someone asks how you are. Comments like that momentarily made me feel that simple and slow weren’t acceptable ways to live.

Psychologist David G. Benner says, “You are a human 'being'. Not a human 'doing'. Your worth lies in who you are, not what you do or how you are seen by others.” Talk about a freeing statement.

Can we consciously agree to ease back on the pressure we put on ourselves and others to DO? Especially when we’re leaning into a simplified life?

Your Purpose will Morph

When you put on the breaks and halt the flurry of trivial (or even good) activity in your life, you might feel pangs of strangeness. Twinges of oddity after the bliss of your new found freedom.

This is a perfect time to be grateful for your purpose and giftings. Although they may be used in different capacities as you slow down, know that the core of your being will still make a difference in this world. Your peace and your presence will impact those around you and by doing less, you’ll be more.

Christ Your Foundation

“It’s in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for. Long before we first heard of Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us, had designs on us for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is working out in everything and everyone.” Ephesians 1:11-12

This has been my prayer to God in this time of simplicity, “Let me delight in slow. Let me embrace simple and sparse. Let me enjoy the steady quiet pace and know you more each day.”

Slow is okay. Slow is meaningful. Slow is purpose filled. Not because of anything we do but because in Christ -- we live our purpose.

>>>

for more from alysa:
website | Kitchen Fellowship
twitter | @kitchfellowship

(In) Real Life // your story matters

This weekend we hosted a local meet-up of (in)courage's (in) Real Life Conference. As I process what to share with you about it, so much comes to mind. Here is my attempt to put it into words and pictures from my phone with poor lighting :)

The courage of the ladies who showed up...

Going to an event you've never heard of can be intimidating. And we all have excellent reasons for avoiding the awkwardness altogether by just not going. Yet, a group of women of showed up anyway Friday evening and Saturday morning.

And beyond showing up, they opened up. Meeting each other, sharing stories, discussing the videos and revealing a need to keep these conversations going. I was incredibly blessed, and am so appreciative, for each of these women.

The needs of the local community these ladies represent...

You know that feeling when you're surrounded by people--in your home, community, church--and somehow still feel alone?

Our conversations and discussions this weekend noted that we've all been there at some time. Feeling alone and friendless. And I don't think that's true only for us who were there this weekend. I believe many more in our community--Christian and not--feel this way. Feel in some way unsupported, unencouraged, isolated, alone.

I have dreamed of solutions for this common need in our local community. While I feel for each woman that feels this way, it is reassuring to know the need is there and the effort is worth it. Each woman represented by the group that showed up is worth it.

The power of our stories...

This year's conference theme was "Your Story Matters" or "We Need Your Story." As ladies shared about themselves with each other before and after the keynote videos, and as we shared our own experiences in response to the videos, it became obvious to me the power of our stories.

Each story seemed to have an element of overcoming. Overcoming a hurt or a struggle or a particular challenge or roadblock. Sometimes the story is progressed enough to have a resolution, and many other times it's still in the process with only the hope of overcoming.

Wherever we are in our stories, they are our testimonies of the power of Jesus.

And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony. // Rev. 12:11

And just the little bits of stories I heard this weekend was absolutely evidence of that. Our stories matter for ourselves, for others, and ultimately for the glory of God. As they bring us together in His purpose, in His healing, and in His truth and love.

Powerful indeed.

The significance of each person's contribution...

As we worked on setting things up in the college student center, my husband pointed out, "This was just going to be a small get-together with a few people in our apartment gathered around our laptop." And that was the original plan.

Of course, when I shared the idea with my mom and sister, we pooled our ideas and resources together to make it bigger and better. And a last-minute visit from a family friend who saw the heart of this event and volunteered her own time and resources. Even for a small gathering, hosting was a big task by myself. Then, when it got bigger, somehow the work was better.

We encouraged each other and affirmed each other's ideas. We redirected each other back to a simple focus when we got distracted. And together, our weaknesses weren't hindering because we had another's strengths to fill in the gaps.

Then, there's Daniel, my amazingly supportive husband. The man who hears out my ideas and even encourages them. He's there in the beginning to help set up and be sure the technology is ready, there in the middle caring for our kids, and there at the end helping put things back to normal. And he's there all along the way to keep me from giving up.

And we can't forget the (in)courage team and those involved with providing and orchestrating all of the (in)RL resources. The speakers sharing their own powerful and engaging stories, and the people who made it possible for us to bring this message and event to our local community. They made it possible for us to focus on our local women and those details that helped make our time together special.

Our contributions, however small, are important.

The working of the Spirit...

When there were no meet-ups planned for our town, it seemed obvious I needed to host. Not just to create a Lincoln location. Maybe more importantly to tip my toes into an outreach idea that has been evolving over the last year or so.

The idea: Bringing that special conference feel that I loved for free to those in my own hometown who can't afford it. Because the gospel should be free, right? Because even us can't-afford-a-conference-much-less-travel-and-hotel women deserve some conference-like encouragement, empowerment, and pampering, right?

Right.

So, that is just a snippet of the dream. Bringing conferences on a smaller, local scale to the women in my community for free.

And (in)RL gave the perfect outlet to test that idea out. Because they were providing the material--the speakers and theme and all of that nitty gritty planning. All I needed to do was invite the women and make them feel special. Even if it was just a tiny handful of women that could fit into our tiny apartment.

Then, before bringing it up to others, my sister started talking about the same vision of reaching out to local women with special events. We got excited that we both wanted the same thing without realizing it, and agreed (in)RL was a perfect opportunity to try it out.

By the time my mom, sister and I were all done with our dreaming and scheming together, the meet-up was a Saturday morning and Friday evening event with over 90 people invited (about 30 or so showed up), crafty details, and custom-designed booklet/journals. Definitely a dream turned reality.

The best part...

This weekend was just the beginning. The beginning of a dream, a passion, a ministry taking shape and happening... here in our real, local lives.


linked up: incourage

>>>>>

related posts:
A Story to Tell
The Prodigal's Brother and My Story
Everything We Do
Say Yes
Safer than a Known Way
Influence Conference

Family Worship Rhythms

Our family worship routine varies with the seasons. Some seasons we manage to keep at least a simple evening tradition that involves reading a Bible story, praying and even singing a song together before the kids go to bed. Many other seasons, we fall out of the family worship habit.

The seasons that focus more on God are always my favorite; the others are... meh. Nothing epic. Mostly because there is a noticeable difference in our family when we regularly actively seek God and when we don't. Jesus said, "seek and you will find," so what does it say about our family in those seasons when we're not seeking?

Ezra proclaimed a fast to humble themselves before God to seek from Him "the right way for us and our little ones and all our possessions." (Ezra 8:21) I love that distinction between "us" and "our little ones," and that simple inclusion of "all of our possessions," because it matters that we bring each of these concerns before God.

They needed protection where they were crossing, but Ezra was ashamed to ask the king for an escort of soldiers and horsemen. They had already told the king, "The hand of our God is upon all those for good who seek Him, but His power and His wrath are against all those who forsake Him." (Ezra 8:22)

Basically, the king knew them to be seekers of God so they had nothing left to do but to actually and actively seek God.

Maybe a little bit to save face.

So, they fasted and entreated God for protection and direction.

en treat  v :  to plead desperately; to beg for something, often repeatedly.

And after they desperately and repeatedly sought God--He answered their prayer. (Ezra 8:23)

I want that for my family.

I want my family to desperately and repeatedly seek God. To humble ourselves before Him and to always and continually seek His way for us, our growing kids, and even our possessions. I want the wild and crazy answers and movement that His response to this seeking results in.

I want us to find.

So, ever so slowly we are figuring out how to make this happen for us. Daniel and I have entreated God recently as we stepped in faith believing God as described in >> this post. But I want to start getting the kids more involved and instead of making a sometimes-once-a-day-if-we-have-time-for-it routine, I want us to continually throughout each day seek God.

Morning, noon, and night.

On a daily basis, when we're simply seeking direction for today and not some monumental life decision, this seeking doesn't have to be all fasting and candles and prayer vigils. In fact, I'd rather it more often be a little more routine and common than that.

As common as my morning routine of waking Brylee up and getting her breakfast. As comfortable (and maybe a little chaotic) as our family meals. Because faith is beautiful in the daily mess, you know? And as recurring as our goodnights.

Simply praying together in the car as we drive Brylee to school and Daniel to work to start our day with Godly focus. Talking through the highs and lows of our days, and taking them to God with and for each other. Regularly talking about how God might be leading us to better love those around us, then challenging each other in following through. Routinely reading His truth over breakfast or before bed.

These are the rhythms I pray continue to grow for my family. Like Ezra and Daniel and Jesus and so many courageous and faithful people before us, that we will regularly and continually and desperately seek God. Make Him our focus. And encourage each other in following His lead.

Not as a when-it-happens-on-occasion family worship; but a rhythm of breathe-in-breathe-out-daily-family-life worship.

Because we've told a few people we're Christ-followers, so maybe it's time we really put that into practice.

>>>

also read:
purpose-driven goals for the home
family purpose statement
courageous at home
giving your family to God