Things Our Hearts Forget: You're Human

I yank my arm back from the stove with a yelp. "Ow!" A thin pink line slips across my forearm. Sliding muffins into the oven, I'd gotten a little too close. I seek the sink and run cold water on the heat. A few tears flow too.

As I stand there, I think back over words spoken that slashed across my heart just like the heat of the oven. That place within me still feels tender. I berate myself, "Why am I so sensitive?"

I glance back at my arm and suddenly I'm thankful for sensitivity. Without it, the burn would have been much worse. And without the sensitivity of my heart, a relationship I value could have been more deeply damaged too.

Never apologize for your sensitivity.

But don't abuse it either. Being burned didn't mean I should kick the dog or destroy the stove. It didn't give me the right to light a match and go after the next person who crossed my path so they could have a little smoke in their day too.

We need to let ourselves cry, feel the anger, recognize that we've been burned. It's the way we keep ourselves alive to all that's around us. First we feel, then we heal.

I hold a muffin in my hand. Its soothing warmth reaches all the way to my fingertips, to somewhere deep inside.

P.S. Did you miss the deal on Friday? Well, God's Heart for You eBook is still on special for $1.99! Find it here on Amazon or Barnes & Noble! Would you like to leave a comment? 

Celebrating Mamas

Can I tell you a secret?

I am in awe of mothers.

The hand-holding, brow-wiping, life-changing women of the world.

I love how mothers create, bring life into the world, nourish souls, tie the shoelaces of the future.

I love how they wrestle about where to send kids to school, and what to get for Christmas, and how to take the seed of a life and grow it into strong, tall faith.

I love the way they laugh about too much poop and mountains of laundry and the beautiful chaos that they somehow keep spinning in orbit.

I love how time etches memories across their faces, like little lines in an extraordinary story, and the way their eyes light up when someday someone calls them, “Grandma.”

I love how they throw their arm in front of you at a sudden stop in the car even if you’re not their child, even when their hair is silver, even when nursing and diapers feel like so many moons ago.

I love how even women without children {I’m one} somehow feel the need to nurture, to grow, to pour themselves into the next generation like so much water that just never stops. Mothers of the heart if not the body.

I don’t know where you are this morning but I wish I could cup your face in my hands and whisper this, “You are a good mother. You are making a difference. You are beautiful.”

Then I’d drop my hands and smile at you. And in a moment you’d be busy again doing what you do and I’d watch the miracle.

The miracle of motherhood.

The ordinary-extraordinary.

The divine with a little dirt under its nails.

Jill Churchill said: “There’s no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one.”

And with all of you mother-wonders out there?

I don’t think I’ll ever stop counting…

* I first shared this post on (in)courage last Mother's Day and I'm thinking of it {and you} again today.

Would you like to encourage a mama in your life? May I invite you to consider the Mother Letters ebook as a gift from your heart to hers? {Delivered instantly so you can still send it today.}

Things Our Hearts Forget: You're Carried

The plane takes off as we giggle nervously. With room for only eight passengers, this is hardly a luxury flight. There are no stewardesses offering peanuts as the vast Alaskan wilderness stretches beneath us. My family and I soar over pristine waters, vibrant green trees, and a magnificent glacier. We’re taken to places we could never go on our own. After a wonderful flight, the pilot touches down and says, “I hope you enjoyed the ride.”

Later I think about the places I feel called to go in life—not actual spots on a map, but the destinations God seems to have written onto my heart. Sometimes they feel as tall as one of those Alaskan mountaintops, and I wonder how I’ll ever be able to reach them.

But then God shows up and says, “Just get on board, girl.” I step inside His will and take a seat, and soon we’re moving. I’m slowly learning our job isn’t to fly. Oh, I still try it sometimes. I flap my arms until I’m exhausted and then wonder why my feet are still on the ground. Our job is obedience—just to get on the plane. In other words, to let God carry us.

Being carried doesn’t mean being passive. It simply means being in a dependent relationship. We take action, but we leave the ultimate responsibility and results to God. We also let Him determine the destination.

Sometimes that’s a little scary. As I looked out the window on that plane in Alaska, the mountains occasionally looked a little too close for comfort. But in the end, the pilot kept us safe. He also did more than just get us there; he let us see and experience things we never imagined. And when we landed, we felt more exhilarated than exhausted.

When God calls us to go somewhere in life, He also promises to get us there. When we trust, yield, and let Him carry us, everything changes. And that baggage you’ve brought with you? He’ll carry that too. Just step on board, settle in, lean back, and let love take you higher than you ever thought you could go.

--Excerpt from my devotional, God's Heart for You.

P.S. God's Heart for You eBook is currently on special for $1.99, this is a deal that is too good to pass up! I would love for you to check it out and grab a copy! :)  Find it here on Amazon or Barnes & Noble! Oh, and I wanted to thank y'all, my readers, for your encouragement and support of 'You're Already Amazing, it is currently #13 on the Christian Living bestsellers list. To say I am humbled is an understatement. It is my hope and prayer that we will all continue to remember that we don't have to do more, be more, or have more. YOU are already amazing & He loves you. So grateful today for each of you! Happy Friday! 

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