inspiredness TM

Copyright 2013


Leave a comment

{Un}inspired

What do you do when you’re feeling…uninspired?

The words don’t flow freely. The thoughts are all gummed up. The body is feeling heavy and tired.

The energy was there yesterday, but it had to be. Babies needed their diapers changed, children needed baths. A normally relaxing day spend wandering the zoo was a mass of people and a mass of irritable children, parents and grandparents. Boys were spitting, girls were crying, faces & knees were dirty. And this mama…somehow got through the day in one piece having only gotten overwhelmed, anxious and irritable a few times! By sunset bellies were full, bodies were clean and the blankets were covering those spitting, crying, irritable, sweet little messes.

I guess after all that…I rest and do it all over again {and know that the inspirationwill come back}!

Advertisements


Leave a comment

Walk with Him Wednesdays: Sacrifice

“Every Wednesday, we Walk with Him, posting a spiritual practice that draws us nearer to His heart.To read the entire series of spiritual practices

Next week, as we walk with Him towards Easter, might we consider: The Practice of Sacrifice.”~Ann Voskamp


It’s been a day.

One thing after another has been breaking me down, bringing me to tears, bringing me to my knees. But for some reason I keep getting up, wiping my face dry and keep going.

I feel like a glutton for punishment, all I really want to do is give up.

Bury my head under the covers, no coming up for air until the light of a new day shines through the blinds.

Did Jesus feel like this…when those who followed Him betrayed Him, denied Him? Did He just once feel like dropping the burden on His shoulders? Did He think about going into hiding…into a place so deep that no one could find Him?

He was human, right? He knew His fate. He knew His Father. He knew He was the ultimate sacrifice. Yet, He went on.

I wish I could see Him, yet I feel Him. When I’m on my knees, weeping uncontrollably He’s there picking me up and wiping my tears…I’m not doing this on my own.

When I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs at a little, innocent person…He quiets my screams, stops my racing heart and holds me tightly until I calm down.

When I feel like hiding in the dark, intent on not surfacing…He opens the blinds of my heart and shows me the light.

What would I be without Him, The Ultimate Sacrifice?


1 Comment

On My Mind Today

“The only platform Christ ever came to was a mound at Calvary — a place to come and *die*…

He calls us to come and *die* … and if art is about applause instead of altar, it becomes ugly. I wonder if art is only art when it’s about an altar — because real beauty is always found in sacrifice.”~Ann Voskamp 

“Real beauty is always found in sacrifice”

Laying down yourself, surrendering yourself, your life, to Christ…every moment of every single day…therein lies sacrifice.

I remember to do this in times of hurt, trouble, despair…sometimes. I forget when in the land of plenty, when life is beautiful or when I’ve talked myself into believing it’s beautiful…sometimes.

There are those moments when the view takes my breath away and I thank Him.

Moments when the laughter peaks and has the great potential to shatter a heart of stone and I thank Him.

But mostly, in my busy world, my busy mind I forget. Forget that He is there, watching my every move, crying with me, bursting with the joy that I can be, calling me his beloved child…perfectly His, perfectly loved no matter my shortcomings.

Is this what grace is? Where do I find this? How can I be this to someone else when I can’t even define it in my own head?


4 Comments

Walk with Him Wednesdays: Sacrifice

“The next 3 weeks, as we walk with Him towards Easter, might we consider: The Practice of Sacrifice. We look forward to your thoughts, stories, ideas….”~Ann Voskamp

I thought I knew what ‘sacrifice’ meant when I became a mother. I filled my head with the idea that if I hadn’t taken a shower for three {or more} days that was sacrifice. If I fed my children before I even attempted to feed myself that was sacrifice. If I cleaned, cooked, played, read book after book before I thought of taking a break {and sometimes this meant just using the bathroom}…these were sacrifices.

Yes, it’s true…these are all sacrifices of sorts. But really in all these “sacrifices” I’ve sacrificed myself and led myself down a very rough road. A road that took me to the depths of depression, thoughts of suicide, feelings of hopelessness. I thought I could do it all…be “super mom.” And when I finally wore myself down to the very earth that I could no longer stand on, all the pretending I had done…pretending to have it all together…gave way and left me vulnerable.

Vulnerable is not a spot I like to be in. Being in this place means I have to trust…I’m not sure I inherently possess this…trust. I did it for a moment though, this trust thing. I trusted God…that He would take care of me through the people who were taking care of me. It took going to those ugly depths to trust Him.

I’m not as deep as I was almost exactly two years ago. I’m not crying every minute of the day. I’m not thinking of locking myself and my kids in the garage with the car running. I’m not afraid to leave the house, afraid that someone will see the ugly marks of depression on my soul. Praise the Lord for this!

But…do I truly know what sacrifice is?


Leave a comment

An Inspiring Read

Gift #51

I have only known of Ann Voskamp for a few short months but I feel her impact on my life everyday.

I had never been to her amazing blog before, never heard of her book but happened across her blog link through a comment on an online article. Am I glad I clicked that link!

Her words flow from her heart so eloquently. She’s real, not ideal.

“…I wake to the discontent of life in my skin. I wake to self-hatred. To the wrestle to get it all done, the relentless anxiety that I am failing. Always, the failing. I yell at children, fester with bitterness, forget doctor appointments, lose library books, live selfishly, skip prayer, complain, go to bed too late, neglect cleaning the toilets. I live tired. Afraid. Anxious. Weary. Years, I feel it in the veins, the pulsing of ruptured hopes.” ~Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

So of course I had to read her book, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are.

She had me in the first line…

“A glowing sun-orb fills an August sky the day this story begins, the day I am born, the day I begin to live.” ~Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

She had me crying the first chapter!

And by the end of the book I realize that, indeed, things miraculous and things mundane are beautiful gifts from God.

I don’t currently own the book {I borrowed it from a friend} but I will definitely be buying it so I can read it over and over!

Hence,

gift #51!


3 Comments

Multitudes on Monday {March 5}

#51

Hearing my little sunshine hum along to a song in the car…the one that I listened to while pregnant with her

#52

Babes giggling while playing with their daddy

#53

Listening to Gracie roll play with her dolls

#54

A heating pad in bed warming me up when my husband cannot

#55

remnants of play, dolls well-loved

#56

sleeping in warm sunshine

#57

commotion in the house, kids laughing, fighting, playing…knowing one day it will be quiet

Your father’s blessings are greater
than the blessings of the ancient mountains,
than the bounty of the age-old hills.

~Genesis 49:26


Leave a comment

It Takes a Village…

to raise a child {~unknown source, African proverb}

We don’t often acknowledge this anymore in our culture. We are self-sufficient, too busy, too proud, too stubborn. Asking for help is seen as a sign of weakness.

Sometimes it takes a near-tragedy, a loss of some sort or just a “wake-up call” to prod us into realizing that we can’t do it by ourselves that there are people in our lives that loves us and are more than willing to lend a helping hand, deliver a meal, sit and talk, babysit our kids while we go out for a breather.

Tonight my “village” was a dear friend with three small kids of her own. She could have easily {and gently} pushed me out the door, it was her eldest daughter’s 4th birthday party after all and we had stayed well beyond the end of the party. Instead she welcomed me and my four babes with open arms, fed us, kids played, kids bathed {imagine five kiddos in a standard-size bathtub!} and sent us home tired, happy, bellies full, hearts full.

{Blessing #50}

Our youngest babes sharing