When The Scales Tip

Next Tuesday I’m scheduled for my second ultrasound. Tim and I will get to see our little one again and find out if BG is a boy or a girl. We’ve been counting down the days to this doctor’s appointment. It was incredible to see the small nugget of a person being formed at 8 weeks, so seeing his/her progress at 20 weeks is thrilling.

I’m beyond excited. And beyond terrified.


I shouldn’t be; there’s no reason for me to be alarmed. My pregnancy has been pretty smooth thus far. I was nauseous during the first three months but have yet to throw up, which for this barf-phobic gal is truly praiseworthy. All of my check-ups have gone splendidly – BG’s heart rate, my weight gain and blood pressure are all on track. I’ve been able to travel without complications. Tim is a sweet father-to-be and an exceedingly patient husband during this season.

But, I’m still terrified. The precious life Tim and I created is fragile, just like ours. There is no guarantee of health and safety. A multitude of things could go wrong in the next 20 weeks I carry our babe, some of which could be revealed next week at the ultrasound. The what-ifs are endless: mental handicaps, genetic diseases, physical deformities, a dangerous labor and delivery.

In my anxiety I tend to view God as a lawyer with His scales, apportioning blessings and catastrophes to each person, making sure that all is in balance. Despite the fact that I know this image of God doesn’t hold any weight scripturally, it feeds my worry. Subconsciously I think since I’ve had a good pregnancy thus far, I’m due for something to go wrong…

But God doesn’t use scales. We aren’t in a system of checks and balances. The truth is that bad things do happen. The doctors could find something wrong during my ultrasound. Labor could be horrific. I could develop some sort of third trimester barf reflex.

God doesn’t promise smooth sailing. He promises grace and love and strength and peace and healing. Grace that can cover our messy. Love that can stitch up our wounds. Strength that can get us through the unthinkable. Peace that can calm our irrational fears. Healing that brings new life.

In my excitement and terror, that’s where I want to camp out. I want to pitch my tent in green pastures, by still waters. God doesn’t dish out the good and the bad. He is Immanuel, God with us, in the good and the bad.

photo credit: procsilas via photopin cc

Here {Five Minute Friday}


Tim and I celebrated another monthiversary yesterday! Eleven months. I’m not quite sure how that’s possible…

I asked him what he thought was the most surprising thing about the past eleven months. Being here, he said. I agree.

I would never have guessed we would be here in Idaho, starting a new life together. Our here has been challenging. I hated here sometimes and other times I couldn’t imagine being anywhere but here.

Despite my fears and struggle with being content {sometimes}, I’m beginning to really see God’s promise for purpose in bringing us here. My vision isn’t specific, though I wish He drew out a detailed map for the next few years; but God is settling my soul with peace.

Here is very different from there {SoCal}, but God is with me wherever I go. I’m really starting to feel that truth.

He is with me whether I’m here, there, or anywhere.

And since He is here, I want to be here also – fully present and willing to take on the here and now with Him.

If I take the wings of the dawn, If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea, even there Thy hand will lead me, and Thy right hand will lay hold of me.

Psalm 139:9 & 10



Five Minute FridayLinking up with Lisa-Jo for another Five Minute Friday. {Set your timer, clear your head, for five minutes of free writing without worrying about getting it right.}

Do Not Pass Me By: Stay {FMF}

A furry face strains his tether purposely unhearing the command of his owner. Stay.

A little one tucked in bed cries out as the light turns off.  Stay.

A wife pleads through tears as she watches the back of her husband fade into the distance. Stay.

Stay is for brokenness, fear, and disappointment.  The soul grasps at what won’t remain in place.  It lurches and lunges for something that is steady, that will last.

“Be still and know,” says the small voice.

Remain in Me.  Stay awhile.  Abide in Me. Stay with Me for keeps.

Take refuge and find sanctuary in Me. Linger in My love.  Don’t be cast about by external inconsistency.  Hang on to My eternal presence.

Stay is healing and safety and comfort.

Pass me not, O gentle Savior, hear my humble cry; while on others thou art calling, do not pass me by.

Let me at thy throne of mercy find a sweet relief, kneeling there in deep contrition; help my unbelief.

Trusting only in thy merit, would I seek thy face; heal my wounded, broken spirit, save me by thy grace.

Thou the spring of all my comfort, more than life to me, whom have I on earth beside thee? Whom in heaven but thee?

{Pass Me Not, O Gentle Savior – Frances J. Crosby, 1868}

Five Minute Friday

Dear Older Women {31 Days of Letters}

Dear Older Women,

It may be out of your comfort zone to strike up a conversation with someone 20 years younger than you, but it may be one of the most (mutually) rewarding things you can do.  Reaching out to the next generation produces fruit well beyond a neighborhood walk or a coffee date.

You probably don’t realize the gifts you have to offer and how much us younger women need what you have to give.  We need your encouragement, support, and Godly counsel.  We need to hear about your triumphs and failures, your joys and sorrows.

You have the opportunity to pour into others what God has poured into you.  We may seem unapproachable or disinterested sometimes, but keep hounding us.  Once we experience the benefits of consistent accountability, wisdom, and friendship from an older woman, you won’t be able to keep us away.

Please come alongside us, disciple us, help us become women after God’s own heart.  Encourage us to love our husbands and children.  Challenge us to serve selflessly.  Stir up in us a passion for prayer and studying Scripture.  Model what it means to live a pure and set-apart life for Christ.

There is an eternal return on your investment.  You plant Godly seeds in us that will be sown in our relationships with others.  Good fruit will be passed on to our family, friends, and coworkers.  Your investment trickles down to the next generation as we follow your lead and begin pouring into the young women we encounter.

You have an important role to play in the spiritual formation of younger women.  We are eager to let you become an active part of our lives.  Please do.



You can find all my letters here.

For more information about the 31 Day Challenge, visit The Nester.

The Curtain Incident II

God has a sense of humor, and I’m beginning to think it’s the sort that only seems funny after the fact.

If you’re not up on the curtain shenanigans of Monday, refer to The Curtain Incident to get caught up, because this is a continuation of the saga.

The following events happened yesterday.  It took me awhile to recover, hence the one day delay on this post.

The original curtain rod came from Walmart and was desperately flimsy from the start.  Tim and I thought an upgrade would solve the problem, so we purchased a thicker, longer curtain rod from Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

Holes from the previous hardware were already made, making the installation process quicker than before.  I had the new rod supports secured to the wall in about 15 minutes.  The curtain was strung on the rod and, with Tim’s help, the new ensemble was hung with care.  The new rod was the perfect length and the whole thing looked great.  We just needed to tuck the curtains behind the couch.

In the process of getting down from my perch atop the couch, my foot made contact with the excess curtain yet again.  I stared in disbelief at the drooping curtain and bent rod, for a split second thinking I must be in a dream.  Reality was quick to follow and after some, um, words, I was silenced by anger.

I paced in the living room for a minute before retreating down the hall to sit in the most hidden corner of our bedroom.  The frustration was welling up so quickly, I couldn’t keep the flow of tears from matching its pace.  I was stunned and angry that an exact replica of the curtain incident, a meer 24 hours earlier, had just occurred.

As I sat wedged between the wall and my nightstand, I began to cry even harder.  I felt defeated.  God had taught me a lesson on Monday, and though I wasn’t expecting to be tested on the material so soon, I didn’t pass.  I failed the test.  I reacted to the same situation in the same manner – with anger and frustration.

I realized as I lay curled on my bed (I had changed sobbing locations) that I was angrier at myself than the situation.  The perfectionist in me was appalled at how quickly I failed.  I had supposedly learned a lesson – why was I reacting the same?  And shouldn’t the appropriate reaction have been a no-brainer?  I mean, it was the EXACT same situation as before…

After some time had passed, with much hugging from Tim and reassuring that I had at least reacted better to him this round than the previous day, I had a glimpse of God’s perspective.  He was laughing – not spitefully, but with the kind, crinkled eyes of an amused father.  I was frustrated because I missed the target, but God knew that I was aiming at the wrong bullseye.

With those God goggles on, I realized the real lesson God was teaching me through curtains was less about anger and more about accepting His forgiveness and grace.