Five Minute Friday: Change

Change.

The word terrifies me.  To have it, to not have it.

I'm generally unbalanced like that.

I am forever, always, unquenchably chasing after the next, the new, the achievement over the hill.  Change, I think... I'm craving change.

I'm terrified of not changing.

Sitting in one spot, faithful at the small things, not always and forever pushing for more, for shiny, for different... scary.

To even think the word "change" whets my appetite.
What's next?  Where to?  Let's go.

But sometimes, I'm learning, it's not always about the change.  It's about the sameness.  And how God lives here, too.  He is in the big, in the loud, and in the silent, the slow, the moment when I feel like nothing is in our future, like I'll be right here forever, like there will be no change.

There's the drive to change.
And then there's the determination to abide, to sit, to wait.
And I let His presence wash over me in the stillness.

On ministry and being terrified

The next tab in my browser is open to "Manage Group Leaders" on MOPsguide.org.

Deep breaths.

I've only been a mom for 6 months now.

6 months of experience.  Life changing, exhausting, emotional, uplifting experience.

I am unqualified to start a ministry for mothers.

My husband and I are starting to dig into the young married ministry (as in, take it over).

He is just a worship leader.

We've only been married for 3 years in October.

Who will want to connect with us, be on our team, support us?

Tears fill my eyes because it sounds so pitiful in my head yet the thoughts threaten to take root in my heart.

The other night I complimented one of my very best friends (who's husband also works at our church) on how well they do at pouring out and giving and being who they are called to be.

The first words out of her mouth: "You really think so?  I don't always feel like that."

And I think, 

maybe we're not so different, 

and thank you Jesus - I'm not alone, 

and yes, I really do think so.  

(She's pretty awesome, raising two boys six months apart and all.  Read her story and you'll think so too.)

And Jesus whispers in my heart that this is why we are qualified.

Because we are not.

Because somehow, He chooses us anyway, and He works in ways that don't make sense.

Because He can make something unwise wise, and something ugly beautiful, and sometimes, simplicity and empty-handed-ness are the best places to start.

Because it's not about us, it's about Him.

We get to join our willingness to His capability and our little match joins His big fire and we give Him glory.  And the match doesn't go out.  It just keeps burning His story.

image via

And it doesn't matter who we are or where we come from, though somehow He uses those things, too.

And this is what He chose us for, in this moment, and He does not make mistakes.  He doesn't take away His gifts or His call.  He knew us before He called us, before He planted the passion in our hearts.  He's not surprised.  I don't have to be either.

This is going to be good.

This foolish plan of God is wiser than the wisest of human plans, and God’s weakness is stronger than the greatest of human strength.

Nowhere but Right Here

Our savings account laughs at us.
Liam has recently been needing and wanting me and much of me and my arms only.

...and I'm struggling to even finish this list of things I could complain about, because something in me just refuses to choose the negativity.

A year and a half ago, Joanna Weaver taught me about processes and she changed my life.

Instead of aching for the outcome, for the finish line, I learned to cherish the moments I would have otherwise rushed through:
The first half of my pregnancy (though it was spent hanging my head over the toilet),
giving birth (though it was long and painful), 
or having no plan and no settledness (which my heart usually needs).

And I feel the same today, this minute.  Somehow, I'm imminently thankful for the things we are lacking, the parts of our future that are unsure, and even the moments where our belts are just about as tight as they can be.

I want to be right here.  This is the moment God has for me, and He's doing something right now.  Any unsureness, exhaustion, stretching, or even discomfort is part of my process.  God's doing something beautiful, and I embrace it, and in the unsettledness, I'm settled, and in the tiredness, I'm refreshed, and it's all gorgeously complicated.

And I wouldn't change a thing.

Putting Up Walls

We're learning about boundaries here in the Rogers household.

My son doesn't yet understand that when I give him walls, I'm keeping him safe.

He looks at me through mesh with accusing eyes.
His mind does connect much yet, but he does remember that batting those baby blues usually gets him somewhere.

He needs to know, however, that though he's capable of exploring, boundaries are wise, even if they're not always fun.

I see our future laid out ahead of us.  His pleading eyes and pouty lip.  Reminding myself that I'm laying a foundation.  Hoping that some day he'll put his own boundaries in place.
Today, I'm keeping his head safe.  Later, it'll be his heart.

When he grows, when he's older, he'll need boundaries to guard his thoughts, his relationships, his time, and he'll need them to achieve the balance that God desires.

As I give him boundaries, I remember that all things are permissible, but not all things are helpful.

And I tell myself that I need to guard my thoughts, my relationships, my time to stay healthy, to stay balanced.
My Father keeps me safe when He tells me to flee the bad and focus on the lovely.

And I think, Hey! Maybe we're both learning!

Or, um, maybe it's just me.

We'll keep working on it.

Five Minute Friday: Joining the Ranks of the Uncool

This is my very first Five-Minute-Friday.  About a week ago, I read Lisa-Jo's blog for the first time.

I felt like I'd been missing out.  Where had I been?  All of these women here, congregated, desiring to share in the raw, to go deeper, to be ok with having a bad day or loving motherhood or both at the same  time.

My heart has been thirsty for this, and I didn't even know it.

Blogging from the heart has been intimidating to me for a long time.

I have admired women who so seamlessly merge their very cool, chic, flawless lives with blogs that reflected their awesomeness.  I've admired them while knowing that I would never join their ranks.

I actually graduated college with a Creative Writing degree.
This means nothing when all you have to give to the world is a processed funky and sometimes tired mess.  I knew that Jesus saw me as beautiful, but I didn't think anyone else would want to hear about it.

And then, suddenly, my blog world changes.  And I find a ton of women who want to share, who need to connect, and who are very just plain and real and true.  And I get to join just by being me and by watching you be you.  And my heart is finally relieved that the trying so hard is finished and I can breathe.