Who better to ask to guest post than my Mama? She writes over at Grace All Sufficient, sharing her wisdom and faith in many ways. Please make sure to visit her site.

Irene, her husband Mike, and their two grandkids-- Maile and Michael.

A twenty-something star-crossed beauty, decked out with a scarf around her neck and sweater UGGS over her jeans, craning her neck for a sighting of her fiance. A busy 2 year old boy, blowing frosty impressions on the glass as he watches the planes, holding a sign "Welcome Grandma and Grandpa!" Parents anxiously checking their watches, then the arrival board, wondering aloud if their college student remembered to pack enough clothes for the 5 week break between semester. Soldiers in uniform, burying their heads in the shoulders of wives and babies and parents as spontaneous applause erupts around them.

Airports. I love airports, especially around Christmas. There is an excitement, a buzz of emotions that can't help but catch me and wrap me up as I join the throng of humanity in advent of homecoming. I usually end up shedding a tear or two as I happily wait to hug family that I haven't been able to touch in months, except through the virtual world of Facetime.

We enter the season of waiting. Waiting for packages to arrive from UPS or the Postal Service. Waiting for Christmas music 24/7. Waiting for A Charlie Brown Christmas and Rudolph and Frosty and Santa Claus Is Coming to Town to be available on Netflix or aired on TV. We prepare grocery lists and menus. We decorate the house and wrap presents, all in preparation for The Big Day. Christmas.

Advent. The dictionary defines advent as "the coming or arrival, especially of something extremely important." But for something important to come, we must wait first. Waiting isn't always easy, and sometimes we don't know what we are waiting for. You may be waiting for a toddler to reach a developmental milestone or a teenager to pick up their room or a prodigal to come home. You may be waiting on a friend to forgive you or a husband to notice you. Maybe you wait for the overwhelming torrent of grief to be replaced by just a heartstring pull and sweet memories.

Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus waited, in Luke 11:1-43. I used to think of the story of Lazarus as mostly an account of resurrection.Which it is. But it is also a story about waiting. I love this account of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. It teaches us so much about our own humanity. I love the disciples. We see their human side.

When Jesus told the disciples that he was going back to Bethany, they immediately started trying to talk him out of it. "But Rabbi, a short while ago the Jews tried to stone you, and yet you are going back there?"

When Jesus tells them that Lazarus has fallen asleep, but He’s going back to wake him up, the disciples then think they'll give Jesus advice.

“Lord, if he sleeps, he’ll get better.”

Dear Thomas, who probably wasn’t the most naturally brave of them all says, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” Can’t you just see Thomas? Squaring his shoulders, sitting up straight and, realist that he was, determining already in his mind that Jesus was going to die if he went to see Mary, Martha and Lazarus.

And Jesus doesn’t just wait a day or two after Lazarus died. No, he waits 4 days after Lazarus died. What was He doing? God, what are you doing? Do you hear me? Don't you understand the situation? Why do I have to do this? How long do I have to WAIT?

We have Jesus who seems to have taken his time and arrived too late. We have disciples who are trying to give the Son of God advice and talk him out of his plans. We have sisters, dear friends of Jesus, who are grieving.

What does God teach us about waiting?

1) Waiting teaches us that God understands us and grieves with us even though He already knows the outcome. Jesus already knew that Lazarus was dead. Yet, when he came to Bethany and saw the sorrow of Mary and the others, he wept with them. God knows our frailty.

2) Waiting teaches us who is in control. It might seem sometimes like our circumstances are in control, or governments are in control, or any number of things (even our emotions!) but ultimately, the God of the Universe is the one in control. This is one of the foundations of my faith.I can trust a God who has an ultimate purpose for my life and that purpose is to conform me to the image of His Son, Jesus Christ.
What did Thomas do? He assumed the worst, didn’t he? He thought about the “What if?” and assumed that they would all die. How often do we get way ahead of God’s purposes and assume the worst? We need to wait expectantly for all of the amazing things God will do so that we can say, “God’s hand has surely done this!”

3) Waiting teaches us to go on with life. This is one of the hardest of life's lessons. Mary and Martha had to go on with life while they waited for Jesus to come. They had to go through the ritual of preparing their brother’s body and burying him. There was more to the grief than just that Jesus didn’t come “in time.” Jesus was a dear friend. They wanted to see him in person.

4) Waiting teaches us that God is purposeful in every thing He does, even when He seems to delay.
From the very beginning, Jesus stated His purpose: “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” Luke 11:4

When Martha and Mary both say, “If you had been here, my brother would not have died,” I used to think they were reproaching Jesus for not coming. However, read what Martha says next : “But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.” Luke 11:21, 22 What an acknowledgement of who Jesus was and is!
Where are you today? Are you waiting on circumstances to change? Be encouraged! God knows, he empathizes with you, and he has a plan. Just as His plan for our salvation through the advent of Emmanuel carried through time, even before it was time. He spoke hope into the darkness, the void, the nothingness.

He is WITH YOU. Emmanuel. God WITH US.

It is for God's glory that God's Son may be glorified through it! Luke 11:4

As promised last month, Jenny is a prime example of someone keeping faith. She and her husband had a call directly from God, and it wasn't until they fully trusted Him that what they wanted to do with their life really decided to fall into place.

Please make sure when you're done reading to follow the link to her and her husband's page and donate to their amazing cause. They are able to continue their work by people supporting them, and after reading their story I can't see a better cause to support.

I won't keep you. Here's Jenny.


My husband and I are like any other married couple. We like to play board games and have date nights in, we like to go on walks and fish with our 5-year old puppy by our side, and we like to be around our friends and family for dinners and get togethers. Married for a year and a half, we are your average couple together and separate. I say this because the only thing different about our lives is how an extraordinary God uses our ordinary selves to do great things.

My husband and I are disaster relief missionaries. If you are like 99% of the people we tell that to, you are thinking, "That's not a thing." My answer to that is always the same: 'Take that up with God, because he called us to it."

On May 17th, 2013 my husband and I gave our lives completely and fully over to the Lord with just $100 in our bank account and not a cent in our savings. We had been on a three year planning stage, with the end result being hitting the mission field full time. We both had a heart for missions, and met doing relief work after Hurricane Katrina, but it was a relief trip to Nashville, Tennessee 3 years prior that sealed our fate.

It was there, after a month-long trip, in a church pew on Sunday that I looked over and saw my husband sitting down, head lowered as the band played around us and I knew that God was speaking to him. Afterwards he told me that he just felt God saying, "This is going to be your life."

Insert my type-A, planning mode self in here. I had a plan to get us out on the road full time by the next year. We would move back to Mississippi, where we met and where our home church was, get jobs and work our tail feathers off to save up the money to pay off our debt and have a nice soft savings plan to fall back on in case, ya know, God got busy or something.

God doesn't do back up plans, or big, cushy savings plans. So, try as we may for three years, we didn't get anywhere. God simply would not Bless it, because we weren't trusting Him.

When we would get a raise, the car would break. Get a tax refund, have a medical problem. As quick as it would come in, it would leave.

Defeated and dejected, we moved back to Maryland and finished the interior of my father-in-laws workshop in the back of his yard and made it into an efficiency apartment. We spent a month looking for jobs until finally Kurt landed a job at a car detail shop. Within just two weeks, they promoted him to manager.

That night we sat in the car in the driveway, looking at our unfinished workshop/home and finally uttered the words we both had been too afraid to say out loud. "Maybe we aren't meant to do this until we retire", thinking back to our trips where we were usually the youngest by a few decades or so.

God took our defeat and turned it around the very next day.

I was cleaning the house, all 200sq feet of it, with the weather on in the background, when a report of a tornado in Grandbury, Texas came across the television. I stood, broom in hand, and listened to the reports, wondering if our time to respond would ever come.

God spoke to me, for the first time in my life, in a voice I could feel not hear.

"Go, and go now." He said.

Hold up. We just moved to Maryland and my husband JUST got promoted to a decent wage. This was our chance to get ahead, save some money, get out of debt, etc... and you want us to give it up and go?

He didn't answer me but put someone on my heart, a dear friend who I met in Nashville on that fateful trip 3 years ago. We had kept in touch on Facebook, so I messaged her and told her what just happened, but then listed the 600 reasons why I could not just go.

She answered, quickly and simply.

"You always answer the call"

That's it. I sat down and prayed and told God that if he wanted us to make this work, it would be up to Him and Him alone. I was giving Him full control.

Kurt came home for lunch break, and I unloaded the news onto him. He sat quietly for a moment, slowly chewing his lunch and thinking.

"Okay" he said, "Let's do it"


Since that day, we have been completely sustained by God alone. When we run into a need, we pray about it. We fall fully into the arms of our creator and he blesses us in return.

We have been able to call many places home since that day. Moore, Oklahoma where an EF-5 tornado sliced through the tight knit town and left them broken. Black Forest, Colorado where a forest fire left the area nothing but pain and ash. Kingsport, Tennessee and Catawba County, North Carolina where flash flooding soiled the memories and fibers of people's homes. And most recently, Boulder County, Colorado where a massive flood changed a community forever.

In these times, we do as God commanded us. We love each person as He loved us first. We show them kindness and compassion as we help them salvage these homes and belongings. We tell them about the man who paid it all, so that they may know love.

Our lives are different in so many ways, but that is only because of the control we give God over it. We are proof that he uses average people for His glory and propels them to do things they never thought possible.

If you would like to follow our journey and see what God is doing in the wake of unimaginable disaster, follow us at Mortonmissions.com.

I have a hard time focusing on the "here". As in, I'm always looking forward to something else. I'm always looking to the "there". Do you have the same problem?

As I mentioned in a personal post last month, we're going through a challenging period as a family. Clark tends to be gone more than he's home, and every time he's gone for a long stretch (we're a little over a month right now), I start imagining life when he's home for longer periods of time. I start thinking about "there", wishing that time would pass quickly by so it will be the first week of November, or will be a year or two later when we are at a different stage of life (hopefully).

When that happens I have to stop, breathe, and turn to God.

One of the worst words to me is "wait". At my women's Bible study right now we're doing Twelve Women of the Bible, and we just went through Amena Brown talking about Hannah. She said the word "wait" should be put in with all the other four-letter-words, and I would have to agree with her. I feel like I've done nothing but waiting for the past six years.

We waited for me to finish college, and I did.

We waited for things to work out so we could move and Clark could start school, and they did.

We waited for Michael to be born, and he was.

We waited for Clark to be in school, and he was.

We waited for Clark to get a job because he could no longer do school, and he did.

We are waiting for a different job, so we can be together as a family more consistently.

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

You see what I mean? But in-between all of that waiting, we were flooded with blessings and plans that were clearly not our own unfolding. So many things that we wanted didn't work out and then we experienced better. So many things we weren't expecting happened but God saw us through them. Sometimes, when we're in another waiting room, I forget all the wonderful that we saw before when we were so anxiously focusing on where we were rather than what was happening due to God's Grace.

So what do you do when you're sick of waiting? When it feels like what you want is never going to come, and you want to scream and cry and get angry at God?

Stop, breathe, and cry out to Jesus.

I've touched on this before, but see these words of wisdom from Amena Brown.

"God doesn't want your happy face. He wants your real face. He wants you to be honest. He can handle it."

Waiting, well... it sucks. But what we have to keep reminding ourselves is that if we always focus on the "there", we really are missing out on some extraordinary things that are happening here and now.

When crying out doesn't seem like enough, whip out a sheet of paper (or open a note on your phone, or a document on your computer, or whatever) and start listing things you're thankful for. Ann Voskamp who wrote One Thousand Gifts had many life struggles, and turning to God and really putting in perspective just how blessed you are always reminds you that what you're waiting on, well... it can wait. God's timing is THE timing. It's not always never easy for me to remember that. But if I have learned anything over the past few years, it's that I really am blessed and I have so much to be thankful for.

I am thankful for Clark, Michael, for my friends, my family, and for Clark having a job. Without having things to do and people to share this life with, I really don't know what I'd do. Almost two weeks ago we had this sweet outing to a local park with two of our closest friends, and it just opened my eyes to the fact (once again), that all moments count for something.

For my fall moms/wives of the month(s), I wanted to do another theme. Having done clean eating over the summer, it seemed only appropriate to find something else to stick with for seasons. I tired to think deep down what I would like to share, or have others share, and I immediately came to this:

Keeping faith in hard circumstances.

As you know from previous posts, this is close to my heart because we've been going through a few patches on and off for... well... ever. Lately it just seems like it's been worse.

As I started to seek out women to write and share with you, I realized that I haven't exactly been completely truthful with y'all. I mean, I want these women to get on here and share stories that could make them feel very vulnerable, and yet I wasn't sharing anything completely personal myself. I felt like a hypocrite. I then decided I would start the little series, in hopes that maybe I can encourage others (and myself).

Clark and I got married young. You may remember this from my Married in College series. I stopped sharing these stories after a while, but may continue them again at some point. It started to get too hard to look back on these times of trial and not feel certain emotions (anger, disappointment, embarrassment). While all these times were not trials, it seemed all the times and tales that came to mind were. Perhaps because they made us stronger, or maybe because I have a completely different view of them now a few years later. Still, I stopped. I felt like I was exposing myself more and more with them.

When we found out we were pregnant with Michael, we honestly didn't know what to do. I was about to graduate college, and we were supposed to be moving so Clark could finish his own degree at a different institution. We were faced with a decision. Still move, baby on the way, and trust that Clark could finish school... or "plan" and find Clark a practical job that would provide for his family. We went with moving, trusting that God would provide.

And provide He did.

The first year Clark was in school and Michael was growing, it was extremely difficult. Loaded down with schoolwork and work, Clark was doing his best to do it all so I could stay home with Michael. Though I searched for jobs, it was all half-heartedly done. The last thing I wanted to do was put my son in daycare and go to work, so selfishly I thought it was my right to stay home and let Clark go to school. What you should know with this, is I was providing from home. Even though Clark was working, we never would have made it without me deciding to put money I had inherited towards our well-being.

But after that first year things were getting tougher. Clark was distracted with my ever-nagging voice about money because my inheritance was running out. While I looked for work and found some successfully, none of it was enough for Clark to stop working or to balance out childcare. We were feeling more and more trapped again, and just couldn't figure out to do. We turned to God... but we felt like we were met with silence.

Clark withdrew from school, found a few small jobs, and we prayed for a better one to be provided.

In November our prayers were answered. Straight after our Thanksgiving he packed his bags and was told he'd see us in a month or so. He was not home again until Christmas. Since then his job (working on cellular towers) has been consistently inconsistent. He's gone anywhere from four to eight weeks at a time, usually only coming home when he has to for his USMC-R duty. As he realized he was missing more and more with Michael, and as Michael became more and more involved (and, may I say, demanding)... while we were grateful for his job, we started wondering if things would ever change again.

Here we are in a city with no family. While we have a good church and some very amazing friends, Clark being gone definitely takes its toll. I find myself wishing I could drive over to my sister's house, or call my parents to come take Michael for a couple hours just so I can get my haircut or go to the grocery store by myself. Clark comes home tired and needing rest, and instead he's bombarded with love from Michael and me and never quite catches up. It's the same with me. I find myself even more tired after Clark leaves than when he came home because we have jammed so many things into the time he was home.

We're all tired, grumpy, and not happy campers when Dada's work truck arrives and he waves good-bye again.

We started praying for change. Many things have presented themselves that felt so right, only to fall through and not happen. Again and again and again we find ourselves flat on our faces, and each time we feel heavier and heavier as we pick ourselves up. Many times we forgot to look to God to carry us, and in those times it has not been pretty. Even now we find ourselves constantly battling with God and feeling abandoned.

We question Him. Present Him with our trials and listen, demanding an answer. While I know that I can't demand things of God, and don't deserve His amazing love or the sacrifice and love of His Son in the first place... I get angry. I bang my fists at the silence, cry, and wait.

Two Bible verses give me the most comfort in times like these. I share them with you because even when I don't want to keep the faith, I find myself repeating them aloud over, and over, and over. They remind me that no matter how alone I may feel, I'm not. They remind me that no matter how upset I may be that I cannot plan things or know the future, God has a plan because He created my future. It amazes me that this isn't reassurance enough... but my fickle, human heart always seems to want more.

Here are my verses.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge HIM and HE will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5-6

My friends, if you are facing any kind of struggle, remember to cry out to Jesus. Check back here in October and November for some more encouragement and stories from two amazing women.

I've had a rough few days weeks months. Let's be honest here, friends. From eating a jar of Nutella to watching my weight go up and down like a yo-yo, something's gotta give.

2013 was supposed to be our year. That's what we kept saying. It was the year things were going to change. The year things were going to happen. The year we were finally going to start living.

And yet this year has come, and we are more than halfway through it... and still my little family is "stuck" in this ridiculous thing we call life-on-earth.

Everyone keeps telling me God has a plan. In my heart of hearts I keep saying my favorite verse over, and over, and over again:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11.

Yet these words have lost their comfort. It's like I wrote it on a chalkboard one hundred times, but when I went to continue writing it my arm rubbed against the chalk. The words are smeared, no longer as clearly in front of my face as when I was writing them... and I lost track. I started to look at other things around me, because the chalk was washing away.

So I did what I knew I needed to do. I brought my problems to the closest Christian women I have in my life right now. The ones I can physically sit down with, let them take my hands in theirs... and pray. I needed physical prayer. I needed someone else lifting up the words that were in my heart that I didn't want to bring to God. Because like so many other times in my life, I was turning away from Him. I knew He could help me, and I felt so selfish because I thought He was ignoring me.

Haven't I been praying the same prayer over and over again, Father? It's been over two years now since I brought this to you. Aren't you listening?

I thought I was praying with the faith to move mountains. I thought I was praying big dreams, big things that were God-sized and only He could handle. Isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing?

These women prayed for me, with me, beside me. We gave God praise and love, and asked for the things that were in all of our hearts.

But to me... it still didn't feel like it was enough. Somehow the fellowship with these women was leaving me more angry than relieved. How come they get all these wondrous joys in their lives and I don't? Things that I want, and they receive. Could it be because they are all at least six years older than me?

I was trying to find the reason. And in my moments of selfishness I forgot that a few of them had problems that probably overshadowed mine in the scheme of things. In my selfishness I forgot that they had daily struggles just as I do.

Because I was being selfish.

I stayed at the hostess's house a little longer than everyone else, and we talked troubles. Hers and my own. We shared our thoughts, and she shared her wisdom with me. All I can tell you friends, is that this woman is one who so clearly reflects the light of God I wish I could keep her in my pocket all the time. I am so thankful she has become one of my closest sisters in Christ.

So when I started talking, and when I felt like I was about to cry, she took my hands in hers and said, "Let me pray for you."

Her words moved me more than she could possibly know. In that moment, I truly felt God. She said something like this.

"It's like we are looking at the underside of a tapestry, Father, and we can't see the beautiful picture you are creating above. It's like You are weaving a glorious masterpiece, and we are just waiting for You to tell us to look up so we can see what You see. We trust in You, Father. We trust that You have this amazing plan and hope that You will choose to reveal it to Emily soon, Lord, because she could just use Your presence and wisdom. We trust in what You are making, and what You sew, and ask that soon You will just let Emily look up so she may see what wonders You have prepared for her, and for Clark, and for their family."

When I got in the car to drive home, I was sobbing. I prayed her words over, and over, and over again. Unlike the chalk that had been rubbing off the chalk board, they were being engraved on my heart again, and again, and again.

I felt redeemed. Like my chains had been broken off all over again. And I'm no longer worried. Because I know God will let me look up when the timing is right.

OK... I didn't really eat a whole jar. It was probably 1/4th to 1/3rd. But I bet you're still either:

A) Making a disgusted face.
B) Making a "I've so done that before" face.
C) Considering doing the same thing.
D) All of the above.

I used to hate Nutella. I'm not sure if I did because I actually disliked it or because it was cool to be like, "Ew, gross! I don't like Nutella." This was a controversial reaction to people's usual exclamations of, "OH MY GOSH NUTELLA!"

Am I wrong? Still... go with me here.

Well, I was having an emotionally ridden time of things and it was the only thing remotely close to chocolate we had. So, forget putting a little on toast or eating it with some strawberries. I grabbed a spoon, a glass of wine, and dug right in.


If you recall, I'm an emotional eater. I tend to run to food before running to God. It's a constant challenge. And that night, I totally lost.

My husband works away from home. This isn't saying much, since a lot of families live this way. It isn't that we have a difficult time with the long distance or it's the end of the world when he's gone... it's just that it's really feeling like it's starting to take a toll. It isn't as though he has a set schedule. For instance, he's not gone two weeks and home two weeks; or he's not gone for a fifteen month deployment and then home. He's gone six weeks, home six days. Gone four weeks, home ten days. Gone seven weeks, home four days. It is constantly inconstant. It's never the same. We are very blessed if we know when he's coming home.

That night, I was sitting there reflecting on the busy week past and the busy times ahead. I was thinking of the changes we want to occur, with jobs and our life in general, and thinking about how likely some things are and how unlikely others are.

And instead of reflecting in prayer, or crying out to Jesus, I grabbed the Nutella.

I was just thinking of how tired I was of having to work at everything. Of having to keep up friendships, attempt to stay in shape, make sure I talk to Clark that day since odds are he's not home, and questioning if I am interacting with Michael enough to help him develop, grow, and be an amazing child of God.

I was screaming on the inside, but deep in my thoughts I knew I was avoiding God. I knew I had been avoiding him. Because I didn't want to talk to him, or hear him, or even acknowledge that I knew he was there waiting for me... because I was afraid of what he may have to say, or not say. I was afraid that I would cry out and either the response wouldn't be what I wanted, or there wouldn't be one at all.

To zone out even more, I got on Facebook. I justified it by getting on the K-Love Radio page. And I found this picture. With this verse.

I remembered that the only one who is in control, is God. He knows my past, present, and future. He knows my cares, burdens, praises, triumphs, and failures before they even happen. If I keep my eyes on Him, on the path ahead of me... everything will be just fine.

My devotionals may sometimes seem petty, and may seem rather repetitive. I seem to have the same troubles over, and over, and over again... but isn't that life? We all have struggles, and whether or not those struggles are relieved or are a constant battle, God is there to take care of me/us.


"Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you." 1 Peter 5:7 (NLT).
Yes to God, no to worries. Yes to God, no to fear. Yes to God, no to self pity.

For a much better devotional that is close to my heart and situation, check out Grace All Sufficient.

I am a do-er. If you know what I mean, I imagine we are one in the same.

I am constantly on the go. I love to have things to do, places to be, people to see, etc. Although it takes me some time, once I am comfortable with people/a place/ a situation I am, what you call, a social butterfly. I love to help people, give to people, be with people... do you get my meaning?

And then I have days where I break down. I complain about being so busy, about my house being a disaster, about not having anything to do. This past week my bestie who I've known since I was five was visiting, and I must confess that I did this at least twice during her five day visit.

Yeah. Not cool.

I have a hard time relaxing. I have a hard time sitting down and really, just... breathing. Even my God-time seems to be on a tight schedule and I glance at my watch, my phone, the nearest clock... I worry that Michael is going to wake up from his nap before I fold the laundry or wash the dishes and I therefore don't really spend time resting with the Lord.

No big deal, right? I'll pray later. I'll read the Bible more tomorrow to make up for it. I'll find time... eventually.

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart; and you shall find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My load is light." Matthew 11:28-30.

Most days, rushing through doesn't phase me, but then I start to worry as I'm cuddled in bed.

Did I do enough with Michael today? I got upset with him too much. I need to work on that.

Did I e-mail everyone I was supposed to? No. Well, I'll do it eventually.

I forgot to clean the bathroom. Our bathtub is so gross. We need a new shower curtain. I need to add that to the Target list.

These thoughts continue, and continue, and continue. Soon I find I'm not sleepy, or it's one in the morning, or it's four in the morning and then I start dreading the coming hours because Michael is bound to wake up before I've gotten sufficient rest. I panic. And it makes rest even more difficult.

This morning we slept in. Instead of being thankful, I was annoyed because it cut into my early-grocery-store-trip plan. I could have still gone, but somehow I was so annoyed at the prospect of going after our typical morning routine that I decided we'd go after Michael's nap. That way I could get a shower in.

Guess who's not napping?

So as the morning progressed Michael wanted to take a bath. As I was running water I was looking for a shirt for myself. I couldn't find the shirt I wanted. I mean, I had just worn it last night. Where could it be? I thought I put it on my dresser. Not there. I checked the couch, the pile of clean clothes on the rocking chair... nothing.

During all of this, Clark called needing me to help him with directions to somewhere. I was so short with him just because I wanted to get back to looking for my shirt.

When I finally hit my breaking point, I walked into our bedroom and sat down on our bed, letting my face fall into my hands. Why was this such a big deal? Just pick another shirt.

But it wasn't that. I felt like I couldn't catch a break. Like everything in life is a battle... so much so that I couldn't even find the shirt I wanted to wear.

A few tears feel, a prayer was said... and then I just sat there. Everything was quiet. Michael was throwing toys into the tub, anxiously waiting for me to put him in it. Our dog was passed out on our living room rug. The cat was curled up in the dog's bed. All was quiet.

And yet, I heard it.

Rest.

I thought I was thinking it myself. That's often what happens when the Lord is speaking. Friends who talk about quiet time with God and listening to him, I didn't understand. My thoughts are ALWAYS rushing that I seem to stop listening to Him and continue listening to myself. (See I am v. The GREAT I Am.)

Rest.

So I prayed. I asked for peace, for comfort, for the ability to stop stressing and to rest as He commanded.

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, shall guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7.

After I prayed and recited that verse, I went to get up to help Michael into the bathtub. And there, right in front of my face on the floor, was my shirt.

My focus has been here, there, and everywhere except right where it should be. I don't know why I'm so surprised that I've been stressed, getting migraines, tense, anxious... I haven't been keeping my eyes on Him. Instead I've been looking to this wretched world we live in, and that's not my purpose.

My purpose is to serve Him. To praise Him. To rest in Him.




Praise the Lord for being a patient, forever loving God with my weary, impatient, distracted soul.

You have trusted in your wickedness and have said, "No one sees me." Your wisdom and knowledge mislead you when you say to yourself, "I am, and there is none besides me." - Isaiah 47:10 NIV

It's so easy to get caught up in this mess we call life. To focus on the, "I am and there is none besides me." Let's face it: Who doesn't want to make it all about them?

I get very caught up in social media. I try not to. But it creeps in. After all, it's so accessible-- especially to those with a smart phone. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter... You name it. It's all there at your finger tips. So I upload who knows how many pictures a day and update my status and share links, and then I spend way too much time waiting, checking, stalking, and waiting some more. Somehow this ends in unwarranted anger towards people. Perhaps someone didn't text me back. Perhaps someone didn't like a picture I was certain they would. Perhaps no one liked my status or shared my link I posted. Perhaps....

Why does it make me angry? Because I get caught up in the, "I am."
(This idea I'm taking from Beth Moore's study on Daniel I'm currently doing at the women's study at my church.)

It means I get so caught up in me. Thinking about myself and how "wonderful" I am, how creative I am, or how original or how pretty or how blessed and I want EVERYONE to recognize it. I want people to humble themselves before me.

Wait. WHAT?!

Isn't that what we are doing? Getting sucked in to the craziness of this world and wanting it to be all about us? So where is God in all this?

Oh. Right. HIM.

Yeah, you know, The GREAT I am.

Sound familiar? Here I am getting caught up in the "I am" and forgetting the GREAT I am.

Oops.

No, my friends, that's more than just "oops".

What I so easily forget as I spend mindless moments on my social media plugins is that I am not for this world. Another amazing thing a woman in my small group said. I am not living for this world. I am living for heaven. For the days when I will get to spend all my time glorifying God.

But... wait.. shouldn't I be doing that now as well?

There is a simple answer to that question: yes .

I can say I'm only human, I can say I have flaws, but that doesn't excuse me or give me room to skirt away from my purpose. My purpose is to "represent". To shine my light and let the whole world see that I am not for this world.

I am challenging myself to take a step back from Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter and focus on the relationship that matters the most: My relationship with Christ.

Do you get caught up in the "I am"? How can you challenge yourself to take a step back?

Do you remember back in July when I asked the lovely Nikki over at Mrs. Healthy Ever After to be the Wife (to be) of the Month? Well now she's truly hitched! To add to it, I've asked her to write monthly (idealy) for me because, let's face it, she's pretty amazing.

Since I've been slacking on posts this past week or so, thanks to be Camera-less as well as being out of town, I thought I'd give you the treat of finally getting the most recent post Nikki wrote for me! So, without futer-a-do, here she is!


I grew up with independence always on the mind. I was always taught that I was in control, no guy could push me around, and I could do anything boys could do.
So imagine my surprise when I realized that my greatest honor as a wife was packing my husband’s lunch and doing laundry.

Say what? Ok…come on Mrs. 50s Housewife. What are you trying to say? Women have come too far to regress into the subservient doormats we once were.

It’s amazing how far we’ve come as a society. But it’s also amazing how much we’ve forgotten. Sure, it’s never okay to be a man’s slave. But believe me when I say, there is an amazing joy that can be found in serving your husband when it comes from the right place.

I honestly cannot take credit for this lesson. The month we got married, we joined a newlywed small group from our church led by a couple who has been married for 31 years (who claim that they are the 30 happiest years of their lives. Haha!).

We had a whole lesson on serving our spouse. The men were downstairs and the ladies were all huddled around the fireplace with cider upstairs. We had just spent a good while in a previous gathering talking about how awful it was trying to get our husbands to do the dishes. We laughed. We joked. We had a grand time.

I went into this particular lesson think, “PSSH! I got this. I do TONS of stuff for my husband. I already know how to serve him. Hopefully he picks up a few tips downstairs.”

But by the end of the discussion, I realized how wrong I was. Serving your spouse is more than just doing household chores. It’s a state of mind and a state of heart.

Our leader told a story about how she always hated doing laundry (because let’s get real, who actually likes doing laundry?). But when she visited a friend during a tragedy, her whole perspective changed. Her friend’s 18-year-old son had suddenly died. When she finally saw her, the mourning woman was sitting in a pile of her son’s dirty laundry, crying into it, trying to smell it and for the whole funeral weekend, she wore one of his shirts over her shoulder to dry her tears so she could salvage the last smells of her son.

This woman would never get to do her son’s laundry ever again. Not everyone gets to do their loved ones laundry anymore. It’s a sobering thing to think about.
It was from that moment on, my leader said she viewed laundry completely differently. Doing laundry for her family was a privilege that she won’t always have. And now, instead of begrudgingly doing it and folding the clothes, she decided to use that time to pray for her family and for her husband.

I was completely convicted by the idea of praying while doing household chores—and even by the idea of finding a way to do it with a joyful heart. I mean…who does the dishes while think, “Boy, I am SO happy to clean the house…again.”

But I gave it a try and an amazing thing happened. Changing my perspective actually made me love doing chores and things for my husband. Sure, I’d be lying if I said 100% of the time I’m like “Oh, yay! Vacuuming!” But finding joy in the mundane housework that I used to nag my husband about changed my entire demeanor. If I found myself slipping into the “#@%&” thoughts of a slightly angered woman, I tried to pray instead, or switch on positive music.

And the most amazing thing? It had an effect on my husband too.

Sure, guys don’t always notice the hard work we put into things all the time. But something happened to where my joyful efforts made my husband want to do more for me too. He started saying things like, “You work too hard” or “you do so much” and then try to surprise me by doing the dishes before I got home.

Forget the fact that I had definitely done the dishes before now. But instead of making it World War III in the Miller house by nagging him about the dishes or throwing it in his face that I had done it AGAIN, by just happily doing it myself, it made him want to do more for me and for our house.

The same came with making my husband’s lunch. Yes, I make my husband’s lunch like the mother of a third grader. I used to do it when we first got married because I thought it was cute and then it became a huge burden at one point and I’d holler at him to make sure he made his own lunch on some mornings when I was particularly rushed. Come to find out, if I don’t pack my husband’s lunch, he won’t eat for the whole day until dinner. Really? It would piss me off like you couldn’t believe.

But after trying to change my attitude about chores, I decided to give packing his lunch a second try. Because let’s be honest, making him a sandwich takes less than a minute. How can something like that be a burden? Throw in a few apples and maybe some crackers and you’re done. Where did I get the idea that I was too busy for that?

And as a result of a few minutes of my morning, my husband would have a reminder for midday that he was loved.

That simple act does so much for my marriage. My husband shows his appreciation more, we live more at peace and we’re just generally happier. Why? We’re not arguing over the things that “normal” people argue about. Instead, we work more at finding the joy within ourselves to serve each other instead of working extra hard to win points over who does more and who’s turn it is to do what.

Best lesson I ever learned. I’m not going to lie. It takes work. I still struggle with it from time to time, but it can be done and it makes a world of difference.

Do you find it hard to serve your husband with a happy heart?