A time to Run Together...

Nerves turned my belly into knots. My body anxiously awaiting the start line.
I don't understand why after this many years, I still get race day jitters.

She saw it all over me. I saw it all over her.
My little sister and I, ready to run her first race... together.
"We need to pray" she said.
"Yes, we do" I agreed.

Our foreheads bowed in unison and found rest on one another.
Our fingers interlocked and our hearts clasped.
We lifted up praise.

This bond between us is a gift. A cherished relationship built on acceptance.

Freedom to be genuine.

The morning light was perfectly cast. The energy from fellow runners was set ablaze as we took our mark. You could hear the friendly "Hello" being said from one runner to the next. Well wishes and best-of-luck momento's.

The countdown was on. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Go.

"Me, You, and Jesus" she reminded me. "That's it".
This day was about us. Not two. Three.

Though one may be overpowered,

two can defend themselves.

A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. (Ecclesiastes 4:12)

A time to set personal records. Achieve goals.
The ones spoken out and the ones hidden within.
Anticipating the outcome of those miles to come.

Our hope to finish strong.

The ground took the pounding of our feet, laced in Asics.

Beads of sweat fell, moistening the trails.
Blood pumped, hearts beat, lungs grasped for air, our mouths spoke encouragement and truth over the obstacles. The hills. The fatigue. The pain from training.

We gained all that was needed, as we whispered out prayers. Understanding where true power comes from.

Endurance continunes through my weakness.

Strength in my hardships.

All because of Him.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 9,10)

This race was for His glory.

Everything else grew dim during those strides of consistency.

We heard the sound of heavy breath in our ears and the eruption of worship in our spirit.

Our sprint to the finish was full force. I saw her stretch her arm towards me and I interlocked my fingers with hers once again. Hand in hand we crossed that line. Together.

Victories and Personal bests, celebrated.

Our exhaustion turned into tears of joy as we embraced. Cried.

WE did it. Not two. But THREE!

Delight yourself in the LORD

and he will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4)

He most certainly did!

A time to Enjoy the Weekend...

Weekends are like fresh air illuminating your spirit.

Times when we pull the lens up close and see the little messages of faith, hope, and love. Simple messages in picking up a solitary penny {or possibly three in a row}. To loose breath in the intensity of one revealing their heart to you {or yours to them}. To go beyond your weaknesses, even if it means trembling in fear, to claim your victory.

My Suggestion ~ Enjoy the Outdoors {weather permitting}! Slip on your hiking boots and hit the trails for some nature exploration. Look for the beauty around you. Take the time to treasure seek, and find what it is your looking for. The ordinary that captures your attention. The plain that becomes alive with the glance of your eyes. Don't just see it... LOOK for it!

Be blessed, my friends!!!

A time to Slow Down...

It came to me in the form of a yellow piece of paper.

A reminder.

I knew I was going far too fast on the highway coming home. My goal was to make it here earlier then expected. My outcome was a 10 minute delay and a $80.00 speeding ticket {the police officer was very gracious}.

I'm conditioned for speed. On the open road and in Life.

My hands rarely stop "doing". My feet barely slow to a jog in the daily gride. I'm use to a little warmth on my brow, not enough hours of sleep, and the aches that eventually catch up to a body that doesn't take much rest.

However, I am learning and it feels refreshing.

I remember watching TV as a young girl, when this commercial came on giving warning that "Speed Kills". It was accompanied by a car cash, shattered glass, bloody people and emergency workers on the scene. They used dramatics to pierce the heart and state the law of speeding limits {and seat belts}.

It obviously worked. I still remember it.

Everyday, I need this rememberance to SLOW DOWN. To be careful.

Before someone gets hurt.

Speed Kills.

It kills the soul. It kills relationships between parent and child. It kills marriages. It kills homes. It can kill you. Inside.

When our days are spent accomplishing, striving, and investing in the "American Dream", we can end up neglecting that which holds true success.

It's important that we ease off the pedal.

To take time.

To take heart.

To take rest.

Before it's too late...

...and life passes us by.

A time to be Taught...

They have a wisdom beyond their years. A clarity in their speech that shocks my soul.

A rendering of the gospel only revealed by the Spirit.

They are my teachers.

I am their Mom.

I learn lessons everyday from my little beauties.

Beauties that are blossoming into little women.

I acquire instruction by watching them. Listening to them. Walking with them.

God frequently uses my children to impart knowledge to me.

They have tender hearts that cry out I'm not perfect, my hair has fly-aways, I'm clumsy, I fight with my sister, I want my own way, I don't care if my shoes are muddy or my clothes don't fit. I don't have much to give, I drop things, I make a big ol' mess and I can be selfish. BUT... I know I am loved, just as I am. I don't pretend to be someone else, I am who God created me to be.

They are my teachers of child-like faith, who mirror back truths I speak over them. The ones I whisper in prayer while they sleep, then bend over slow to kiss their soft cheek. The ones I shout firm when they are believing the lies the world feeds them with sugar-coated intent.

Truths that need to penetrate into every heart.

Truths that I often forget.

Jesus said, "If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." (John 8:31,32)

I will continue to watch their interactions with others when they think no one is looking, and take away the lessons I'm still learning.

I will continue to listen to their voices raise the questions, the statements, and the answers. When they aren't sure anyone is paying attention, I'll be taking mental notes.

I will continue to live life with these darling treasures, who rock-out rainbow strapped runners and tangled pig-tails.

Hand in hand with my girls who's hearts are full, who's voices are endearing, who's lives are making me a better student, a better mom, a better woman....

I love you, Girls! You make my heart leep over the moon.

xo

A time to Weave Tapestry...

God had a miraculous way of weaving together the lives of two women.

Two strangers.

It was January. I borded the plane, walking the isle, searching out my seat number. I was trading in the cold Alberta winter for the warmth of Caribbean sun. I wasn't expecting more then a great tan and a little fun in the surf. What I received instead would far surpass any monetary adventure.

I saw her walking towards the empty seat to my left. Barely making eye contact, she stored her bags and nestled herself in next to me. It only took a little time before our surface conversation took a drastic turn and cut into the depths of a woman's insecurities.

If there is one thing I know, it's the pain that runs deep within the heart.

The pain we mask with plastic smiles and a friendly "hello".

The brokenness we want to hide and mend ourselves, before we reveal who we really are.

Not wanting others to see our dirt. Our failure. Our sin.

God has this amazing way of taking two lives, different and oh-so-similar, threading them together for His greater purpose.

It's been four months since that flight, that week on Caribbean soil.

This past weekend, I drove for hours to cross the threshold of her dwelling. My new friend welcomed me with arms spread wide in the pouring rain. I squealed with delight and hugged her firm with gratitude.

A new friend, who feels like home. Comfort.

With a sense of trust and honesty she opened her heart and I crossed that threshold also. There is something about giving one permission to be busted-up and broken, that brings about healing and encouragement. It doesn't take long when you're tired of hiding who you are to break out and be raw.

Can we do that? For others? For ourselves?

Throw away the plastic faces, toss aside the plastic hearts.

There is nothing wrong in admitting that we are nothing without Him.

Nothing.

My friend and I are kindred. Broken, beautiful messes, being healed and redeemed by Jesus.

Walking in the freedom only He can give.

That sounds wonderful to me.

How about you?

A time to Weather Storms...

I searched around the house. Eyes sifting through each room, making sure I didn't forget anything. Oh, how we think we can "prepare".

The morning of my road trip was overcast. Dreary. Raining.

It was lovely.

I listened to music and belted my voice out-of-tune. I listened to the sound of rain pelting glass. Wipers making rhythms by smoothing out vision. I listened to my heart and prayed for those that rose up there. Giving thanks, asking for discernment, protection, and wisdom.

It was a beautiful morning.

Within an hour of my journey, rain turned to fury. The open road quickly became closed-in with piles of sticky, wet snow. Space became limited. Shoulders disappears from the highway. Ditches and tree tops were blanketed with white.

I was in the middle of a blizzard. In May.

Windshield wipers worked over-time, barely keeping up to the visibility I needed. I white-knuckled my way for nearly two hours. Prayers continually lifted... for my safety.

Life has a way of bringing forth storms.

Times when visibility is scarce and we loose all hope. Our roads become isolated as we take wrong paths, hedged in deceit. Storms that only He can settle.

We muster up a seed of hope and trust Him to protect us in our time of need. Often times it mean we white-knuckle our way, squeezing tight His hand through the muck, the darkness, the impetuous winds.

The onslaught that wants to take us out, He walks us through.

Peace in the midst of a storm, comes when we hold on to that which is stable.

All that I packed in my suitcase, my book bag, and my purse, could not help me make it through this snowstorm.

This unexpected weather turned my heart beats into pounding, my relaxed body into tense knots, my joyous {out-of-tune} voice into whispers of prayer.

We prepare, we do, we organize, we work, we think we have-it-all-together.

When truly, what we need to survive any ragging blizzard, what we need to survive this life ~ can not be packed up, jacked up, or wrapped up. What we need is Jesus.

We

need

Him.

After a couple hours the gloomy climate subsided.

My eyes awakened to green landscapes and blue skies.

My body melted back into it's seat, tension eased. Calm returned.

There is always a break in the sky, calm after the storm, sunshine when it's over.

... and His faithfulness which endures it all.

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;
his love endures forever.

He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom
and broke away their chains.

He sent forth his word and healed them;
he rescued them from the grave.

He stilled the storm to a whisper;

the waves of the sea were hushed.

They were glad when it grew calm,
and he guided them to their desired haven.

Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for men. (Psalm 107:1,14,20,29-31)

A time to Enjoy the Weekend...

Life on this earth is but a vapour. Momentary. Precious.

Moments pass that we never get back. Opportunities lost.

Possibilities that only by His grace will return to us again.

Words left unspoken, that need to be said.

Words spoken, that can not be taken back.

Everything could be gone in an instant. A flash.

Would you have regrets?

I know I would!

My Suggestion ~ Enjoy Living!

Do something that you fear to do. Do something you've been wanting to do.

Overcome the obstacle.

Live this weekend! Live in the freedom of complete abandon!

Live in His freedom...

Let those who fear the LORD say:
"His love endures forever."

In my anguish I cried to the LORD,
and he answered by setting me free.

The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid.
What can man do to me? (Psalm 118:4-6)

A time to Take a Road Trip...

I'm all packed and ready to go.

Tomorrow morning will start as most Fridays do.

I'll rub my sleepy eyes at the piercing hour of 5:00am and make my way to the gym. When I return home, I'll hear the music of family rising and the pitter patter of little feet racing downstairs to embrace me with warm hugs.

Once showered and fresh, roles will reverse as I'll be the one walking out of the house into the bright morning light.

Excited for the day to begin.

I'm taking a solo road trip.

Just me. Alone.

No company besides my coffee, my tunes, my luggage, and a couple podcasts.

I'm excited!

I can not recall if I have EVER travelled by myself. Crazy, right?

I have to admit, I'm looking forward to being in a vehicle and not having to play referee.

I'm looking forward to quietness and the open space to think, to dream, to imagine, and pray.

A few days of my own. A worn Mother's dream.

Days that are not scheduled around play dates, after school appointments, or other family commitments.

Pure unscheduled time.

I have no idea what my hours on the road will feel like.

Will they feel long? Drawn? Boring?

Will they feel short? Quick? Lively?

Whatever it is, I'll take it.

I'll use this time wisely, for I know it is precious.

You never get back minutes that pass.

Time as we know it comes to an end.

My hope is that these fews days away will be filled with direction.

Inspiration for weariness.

Intimacy for loneliness.

Healing for brokenness.

As I put my foot to pedal and drive on the long stretch of highway, my prayer will be to hear. Bordered in by trees, with the tranquility surrounding me, there will be no obstacle, no excuse for me to make.
I'll have every opportunity to listen for His voice, speaking to my heart.

Who am I kidding?! I'm not travelling alone.

He shows up no matter where I go.

I'll be with my greatest Companion, my Prince of peace, my Redeemer.

My Jesus.

I'm going on a road trip with my first love.

I will not forsake this time.

I will relish in it.

Refuel my soul!

A time to Listen to Directions...

I like to explore when I have a sense of direction.

When I tour new cities, large shopping malls, or unfamiliar running routes, I focus on landmarks. Make notes in my mind to remember. As to not end up lost.

That doesn't always work.

I'm not much for wild adventure {even though I've had my fair share}.

My wilderness wondering and loss of direction led me to treacherous ground.

Far from Him.

He never stops giving me guidance.

He never stops showing me the way.

It is me who becomes desensitized to His voice.

I chose to ignore and be led astray.

In life I like to know where I'm going, but God often chooses not to tell me.

Not in the way I would like to hear it, anyway.

That way I can't manipulate it into progression.

I need to wait on His timing. His leadership.

Be obedient when I hear Him call.

He is the one in control. Not me.

Even Abraham didn't quite know where his journey would lead. He didn't have a 2 year goal sheet or a 10 year plan when God told him to pack up his family, all that he owned, and start walking. Abraham didn't have all the details.

Why do I have this need to know all the details?
Why do I want the "how", the "when", the "where", and the "why"?

It all boils down for my need to "be in control".

I don't feel comfortable when I'm out of the loop.

I also fear the whole picture.

If God was to honestly give me all the instructions for my life to walk in His will, I think I'd panic.

It would be overwhelming.

God simply wants my obedience, my faithfulness.

Not only for the BIG purposes He has planned for my life, but also in the everyday.

The little things.

If He asks me to bring cookies to the neighbour.

If He asks me to buy coffee for the man who can't afford one.

If He asks me to put aside my agenda for the day {regardless of deadlines} to spend more time with Him.

If He asks me to hold my tongue and not speak, but to listen intently to the one who is hurting.

If He asks me to stop "doing", so others can take care of me.

I need to listen.

I

need

to

listen.

He gives the directions.

I choose to follow them.

I don't want God to be some sort of map that I tuck into my pocket and pull out when needed.

I want him to be my ever present direction, my strength, my desire, my impulse, my breath.

By faith. With trust.

In step with Him.

Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. (Galatians 5:25)

A time to Color Earth...

We scouted blooms in colours that were alive with intensity.

Searched the rows upon rows of bedding plants that will eventually find home in our soil.

"God is so creative" she told me, as we opened our eyes to the rich hues of May blossoms.

My nine year old was captivated by hand-crafted beauty. So was I.

Beauty fashioned by the hands of God. The One who spoke it all into being.

The first five words of the bible, make my spirit marvel. Every time.

'In the beginning God created...'

Yes, He did.

It was good.

We shopped around, looking at these small fractions of creation. Examining.

Ready to plant our own. To transform our piece of earth into a regal garden.

Using the blueprint from His very hands.

All His ingredients to make majesty in dirt.

This is His mastery.

We borrow. Mimic.

As we create beauty of our own. Tending ground.

Preparing for vibrant buds and flowers that will live among us.

Growing. Multiplying into splendour.

Just like us.

Beauty from dust. Growing in richness.

Unfolding into purpose.

By His very word which is spoken. By His very hands that tend our hearts.

Cultivating us as His own.

Creative indeed.

We breathe in the humid air. Eyes adoring His craft.

Choosing florals of pink, lilac, and scarlet. A little fuchsia and white wave petunias.

We head home to our soil. Ready to dig. Plant. Wait for His increase.

Enjoy His beauty and artistry.

It is good.

Yes, He is good.

A time to Quit Assuming...

I'm what you'd call an "assumer" {so I've been told}.

I postulate.

I imagine I know how someone feels.

About me.

About situations.

About circumstances.

I figure I know.

Let me clarify... I don't.

I presume.

Truth be told, I care about what people think. Most times, too much.

I give others a power over me they may not realize they have.

Assumptions leave me in a place that I allow myself to be ruled.

By my emotions.

By others actions.

If someone is hesitant. I assume something isn't right.

When they could be thinking things through.

If someone smiles. I assume all is okay.

When they could be faking. Wearing their mask to hide the hurt.

If someone doesn't make an effort to be in touch with me. I assume they don't care.

When they could be busy, waiting for the right time.

Do you see my tendency?

Without knowing the truth I bank on my emotions or others actions to be my compass.

It's interesting to me how something doesn't need to be true but only believed to impress on the mind and move us.

Faulty compass.

I want truth. Not my perception of truth.

Not lies that I'll believe and claim as real authenticity.

It's my desire to walk in that which is actual. That which is true.

Solid. Foundational truth. Unshakable. Genuine. TRUTH.

Make me to know your ways, O LORD;
teach me your paths.
Lead me in your truth and teach me,
for you are the God of my salvation;
for you I wait all the day long. (Psalm 25:4,5)

A time to Enjoy the Weekend...

I hold a lot of things in my heart.

Things known and things unknown.

I hold love.
I hold endless thoughts.
I hold hurts.
I hold peace.
I hold hope.
I hold future plans.
I hold unexpected gifts.
I hold memories.

I hold YOU!

Let us walk into the known and the unknown things that this weekend will bring. Let us not loose sight of the greater purpose, even in the smallest of details.

My Suggestion ~ Enjoy some time alone!
Reminisce of times past. Dream of things to come.
Rest in the quietness. Find peace in the solitude.

Live it then hold it... in your heart!

A time to Learn from Monkey rings...

After a quick trip to the bank, and swift run into the grocery store for an after school snack, we spent some time at the park yesterday.

I watched my youngest beauty build calluses on her hands as she swung across the red monkey rings.

She takes little leaps of faith, grasping for the next swinging ring in front of her.

"Watch me, Mom. Don't stop watching, okay?"

As I sit on the park bench with my hat holding down my hair from the forceful wind, I keep my eyes steady on her. She is strong and brave. Determined. "You bet, Baby. I'm watching you."

Grabbing the first ring, she hoists herself to grasp the second. She rocks back and forth, building up courage to reach for the third. Rotating swing for the forth. Her fingers touch but do not clinch.

She falls short. Misses the mark. Drops to her knees in the sand below.

"It's okay, Mom. Keep watching. I'm going to keep trying until I get it." She lifts herself up and begins again.

Such perseverance. Such faith.

Am I not the parent, suppose to teach my child?

Yet, she teaches me. Daily.

This picture rings true.

I stand before the obstacle God is allowing me to endure. I gather courage to swing forth. Grabbing onto love. Extending towards hope. Rotating to truth. I pause, to draw in strength.

I fall short.

Miss the mark.

Fall to my knees. Not in sand. In prayer.

"It's okay, LORD. Keep watching over me. We'll get through this, I'll keep going."

I dust myself off.

Reach for the grace. Continue in faith.

A time to Ask for Help...

There are days when I just don't have it in me.

Strength.

Drive.

Endurance.

I wake in the early a.m., my alarm jolting me up straight.

I want to crawl deep beneath sheets, covering my head from the dawning sunlight. It eagerly peeks in through the curtains, roaring to start the day.

I want to sleep. Hibernate.

Instead, I rise.

Grab shoes. Run.

I feel it the whole time. Exhaustion.

I'm tired.
I don't have it in me. Today.

Returning home, I see there is not enough hours to complete all that is written on paper.

My To-Do lists. My action plan.

I'd rather cozy up with books, a pencil, and journal on the back porch.

Scripting thoughts. Collecting rhythms.

Sipping on a steaming mug of java. Listening to the sounds of birds chirping, watching them take flight.

Instead, I clean. Grab dishes. Wash. Scrub bathrooms.

Answer emails. Click keyboard buttons. Print documents. File.

Organize appointments. Take out the trash. Drop off packages. Pick up groceries. Help with homework. Read. Correct. Listen. Cook. Sweep. Fold.

I don't have it in me today, to carry life's load.

I was told by a friend that the action for surrender, is the same as victory.
I close my eyes and see...
Arms raised high. Banners held in the wind.
Fingertips touching the air I breathe, stretched out toward heaven.
Gripping the unseen.
Eyes gaze. Intently searching, for Him. My ever present help, in time of need.

"Oh, where are you? Don't you see? I don't have it in me today."

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth. (Psalm 121:1,2)

Wait! Did I ask?

Before I swiveled my body over the edge of my bed. Before my feet planted themselves on the floor. Before I spoke my first word.

Did I ask?

For His guidance. For His help. For His direction.

For the strength I so desperately need. Today.

This habit of self-reliance, is getting old.

It's one of the downsides to being a capable woman, I guess.

I'm tired of being tired, of fighting the fight of flesh.

I'm well aware I need a new habit.

One that starts with the morning light, when toes curl to meet carpet. Before a word is on my tongue, my heart whisper "Good Morning, LORD... what's the plan for today?"

A habit that starts with putting off the old.

Oh LORD, I need you. More today, then yesterday, even more tomorrow.

I ask that you will go before my coming and going. That you'll protect me in the shadow of your wings, and that I'll accomplish your will above my own.

Rain down joy on me! My arms are stretched in a sweet surrender. Your victory!

A time to Look at Both sides of the Coin...

One sole penny was resting on the sidewalk in the company of dust.

Copper gave forth a glow in the afternoon light, as I bent to pick it up.

There was nothing elaborate about this coin. It barely has worth.

I barely noticed it.

Tossed and discarded by someone else's hand, it was now finding residence in mine.

I examined it. One side, then the other.

There are always two-sides to every coin.

ALWAYS. Two. Sides.

There are times when I feel exactly that. Two-sided, double-minded, call it what you want...

Independent. Reliant.

Confident. Timid.

Joyous. Mournful.

Bold. Hesitant.

Disciplined. Not-so-much.

Courageous. Fearful.

As much as I want to think of myself as a strong woman, I also know I am very weak.

I don't like to admit it... that I can be easily broken, but I have been.

By words. By actions. By unfulfilled promises. Or lack-there-of.

John Eldredge who wrote the book Wild at Heart (which is written for men), put it this way...

Not every woman wants a battle to fight, but every woman yearns to be fought for... She wants to be more then noticed - she wants to be wanted. She wants to be pursued.

As women we have our outward passions that ignite a holy rage against injustices.

Battles we are willing to fight, battles that will wage war, and we will not coward to them.

On the flip side we have our inward passions that are rooted in a desire to be taken care of, to be the beauty, to captivate.

To be treated as delicate. Someone of great value.

Two-sides. Still as one.

For years, I've felt the need to appear solid. Strong.

All. The. Time.

In certain areas, I very much am a woman of strength.

In the depths of my heart, however, I desperately want to be fought for, longed for, yearned for.

The Princess stories that are etched in mind and on my heart from childhood, the games of pulling petals, and daydreams of romance... are still there, always will be.

We almost beg and plead with those we love to fulfill those desires within.

Set the expectations, and wait to be feed. Fueled. Full.

It's unfair.

We are looking to the wrong source.

Our family, friends, and loved ones can not, and should not fill this hearts cry.

There is only one who can ~ the one who created them.

As I flip the penny over and over between my fingertips. Dreaming and contemplating.

I toss it in the air. End over end, it twirls up into the sky.

As gravity brings it back to earth, I catch it. My fist is tight with the outcome locked inside.

To whom do I belong?

My fingers peel back, palm facing heaven...

Heads... I'm His.

Tails... I'm His.

Two-sides. One truth.

A time to Receive Honour...

I was given the most wonderful Mother's Day gift.

It surpassed the rush of my morning mountain race, my luxurious afternoon of spa pampering, and the most delectable Mother's Day dinner.

No other gift could compare to this one.

I received it last Thursday. Early.

My eldest beauty came rushing toward me wearing her smile that lights up a room.

"Hey Mom, do you have a second?" she asked.

As I turned my head in her direction she noticed the phone cradled up to my ear.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you" she apologized, not realizing I was already having a conversation with someone else.

She was no interruption at all.

However, there are days I make her feel as though she is.

An interruption to all the tasks that beckon my hands, when she simply beckons my heart.

I often fall short as a Mom. LORD knows, I make plenty of mistakes.

There are times when I fail at building characteristic of kindness, gentleness, and love, because I show a lack of it in my own life.

There are times when I raise my voice in frustration, when it has nothing to do with them at all. I lack patience. I say "No" out of habit, without even listening to what it is they're asking.

Refusing to open my ears because I'm focusing on something less important.

There are times when I loose out on making more memories. When I don't read that extra bedtime story, sing that special song, or play barbies, all because I am selfish with my minutes and don't want to share them.

There are times when I simply take them for granted instead of treating them as the rewards they are.

Sons are a heritage from the LORD,

children a reward from him. (Psalm 127:3)

"Let me know when you are done, Mom. I have something I need to share with you", the words barely whisper out of her mouth as she turns to leave. Her golden hair shines like the sun, as I watch her walked away.

Only a few minutes pass until I'm finished my conversation. Free to talk with my beautiful girl, I shout from my office "I'm done, Anna. What is it you wanted to tell me?".

She comes galloping through the kitchen, making her way back to me, smile still wide.

"There is this scripture verse, it goes like this... Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all. It's Proverbs 31:29". Her eyes sparkle with gladness. "It reminds me of you, Mom... and I thought you should know", she states this so matter-of-fact.

She is a vision of pure joy, blurred behind my tears.

Out of the mouth of my daughter, was a present like no other.

A Mother's life is beautiful and sometimes oh-so-messy.

I'm an imperfect Mom, but a noble one in her eyes.

There is no greater gift then that.

A time to Enjoy the Weekend...

Weekends are for new adventures.

To breathe in the fresh summit air as we hike through wild flowers, and any snow spring has laid. Our feet will pack down earth, our hearts will pack down memories.
Building experiences with unknown landscapes, and creating rich ties in our hearts.

My hope is that your weekend will be filled with your own exciting undertakings.

My Suggestion ~ Enjoy time with Mom! With Mother's Day just sleeps away, let us bless the women who have been our Mother's {either through blood or through bond}.

We have family that is given and family that is chosen.

Let's honour them all!

A time to Run...

I love to run.

The feeling of sliding on shoes, setting your mark, and running with purpose in each step.

Sweat on your brow. Heart pounding with each tread.

Marking your distance, your pace, your time.

Starting with one foot, then the other, you set the course.

Fight the fatigue. Silence the aches.

The countdown is on. Three days to my first trail race of 2010.

Mother's Day will be spent in the Rockies, my feet pounding mountain terrain.

Mud and soles uniting along the trail. Roots and Rocks requiring a balanced foot.

It's these race days that I prepare for.

5 days a week, I clock milage, push weights, and train my body for proper conditioning.

All efforts are put forth to be ready for one day, one race.

I don't race to win. Never have.

Sounds silly, right? All that training, for what?

To FINISH! Strong!

As much I would love to have a 4 minute mile and run with the Elite, it's not going to happen.

I stand at 5'6". My strides are not long and my body does not look like the ones that grace the cover of Runner's World.

As much as I can will myself to wake at 5am to sweat it out in the gym or on the road, I can not will myself to be taller, faster then my natural ability, 5'11" with the legs of a giraffe, and the speed of jaguar.

I need to be content with my personal best.

My 8 minute mile. My ragged right knee. My stiff shoulders. My pace.

We are all racers. We all run the daily terrain, the route of our lives.

We need not compete. We need to finish.

Run with the desired result in mind.

Pushing through when you hit "the wall". Not giving up.

However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace. (Acts 20:24)

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Hebrews 12:1-3)

God has His plan for your life. Your race. Your route. Your course.

We can so easily look at the runners next to us and feel insignificant.

Less than.

Not enough.

Our goal can sometimes be to finish strong, can't it?

Must we always win?

Be ahead? On top?

The constant comparisons and competition for what others are, have, or do, create an unhealthy heart. We end up treading on dangerous ground.

Watch out that you do not lose what you have worked for, but that you may be rewarded fully. Anyone who runs ahead and does not continue in the teaching of Christ does not have God; whoever continues in the teaching has both the Father and the Son. (2 John 1:8,9)

Lace up, my friends. It's time to RUN your personal best.

A time to Let the Walls Crumble...

Hurt upon hurt.

Brick by brick.

Insecurity upon insecurity.

Brick by brick.

Fear upon fear.

Brick by brick.

We build our walls.

A separation. Partition.

A division to keep us protected from deep cut wounds. Pain.

Creating self-security. A blanket of sorts.

Yesterday one of my walls started to disintegrate. The gradual collapse started the moment I pressed "post" on my personal video message to you (my readers).

Off the cuff.

First take.

No editing.

An opportunity for you to see me improvise.

An opportunity for me to release the fear, and walk in faith.

All. Day. I. Wondered.

Questions ran through my head space.

What will they think?

Was it a mistake for me to post a vlog?

Are they critiquing me?

My self-made barricade collapsed.

I felt wide open.

I am one who would rather plan. Be precise. Scripted.

I want to know what I'm doing before I do it.

Tell me what's coming so I can prepare.

There was no "WOW Factor". No smoke and mirrors.

Just me. As I am.

Exposed.

This obstruction of mine was crumbling.

False securities, in rubble.

Shattered into fragments.

Our walls give us the impression that we are safe behind them.

They deceive us.

God is ever so gently removing the bricks of self-doubt, worry, uncertainty, and fear in my life that have become these limitations of stone.

Unmasking. Unveiling.

Revealing to me that all my protection and security is in Him and Him alone.

You are my hiding place;
you will protect me from trouble
and surround me with songs of deliverance. (Psalm 32:7)

A time to Praise His Goodness...

You'll have to forgive me for chopping off my head (this wasn't the case in the original, but funny things happen in widescreen).

Sometimes the goodness of God is too much to bear, and I know I've only glimpsed His glory.

It overwhelms me. The abundance of His blessings. His gifts.

I feel undeserving of such grace and mercy.

I turn it to Praise.

The opportunities God is presenting me, leave me speechless.

Awe-struck.

I behold His amazing wonder.

I ask "Why me, LORD?"

"What is it that I can possibly do, or say, or write, that would even bring a fraction of your character, of who you are... to a hopeless world?"

Truth.

I've made many mistakes.

I've been judgmental. Critical. Self-righteous.

Sinful.

Adulteress. Murderous. Envious.

I've hated. I've lusted.

I've been greedy. Self-absorbed. Cruel.

... it doesn't even stop there.

Truth.

He loves me all the same.

Truth.

I need a Saviour.

Jesus is He.

Truth.

He has redeemed me.

Truth.

I will give Him glory.

This ever-present work in my heart, is done by Him.

He cleanses me from all unrighteousness, makes me Holy and presentable in His sight.

But now he has reconciled you by Christ's physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation— if you continue in your faith, established and firm, not moved from the hope held out in the gospel. (Colossians 1:22,23a)

It's these truths He wants to use. The saving truth that set this sinner free.

Oh, He IS good!

Good to me.

Good to you.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified. (Romans 8:28-30)

LORD, I say "USE IT ALL".

I will walk by faith, not in fear.

A time to Giggle...

Stirring up in our bellies and coming out with sincerity, laughter erupts from our mouths.

The pitter patter of little feet echo, as I chased my youngest beauty around the house.

Our dark locks of hair bounce with each step, and wave in the wind we are making.

Grins are wide. Giggles can not be contained.

"Mom, Stop. Stop it. Stop copying me", we say in unison.

I continue to chase her like a shadow, playing the game of "copycat". It is my turn to repeat all words that will break forth between her lips.

"Mommm, I mean it. Stop copying me." I say it verbatim with her tiny voice, holding the vowels in the same way.

More laughter. Joy.

Then a drastic turn takes place before I realized her glee turned to grief.

Tears. Sobs.

She is upset. Mad.

Did I take this game too far? Did I copy her too much? For too long?

"Mom" she addressed me, after the emotions settled. "I need to have a private conversation with you. Alone." She sounds so grownup saying such words. She is only six.

I try to gain composure and have a seriousness in my eyes, but a smile breaks on my face.

I can not help it. She looks precious in this firm maturity.

"What is so funny, Mom?" she questions me, stating "This is serious".

I apologize, "I'm sorry, Baby. You're just so beautiful to me, that I can't help but smile when I look at you".

"But, I'm not beautiful" her bottom lip quivers as though she is cold. She's not.

"Why would you say such a thing?", it's now my turn to question. I don't understand where this is coming from or how she is drawing this conclusion about herself.

She confesses, "It's because my heart is dirty right now. I'm not acting very loving". Using all the strength she has within her to not start sobbing in my arms, she holds her somber disposition.

"Well Sweetheart... I still think you are beautiful even with your dirty bits, and God still thinks so too. The dirt in your heart does not change our love for you."

Then it hits me. A simple truth.

How God loves us unconditionally.

As I explain this mystery to my little one, I know I need it to penetrate into my own "dirty" heart.

I need to stop questioning the unfathomable love God has for me.

I need to stop thinking that if I was better, God would love me more.

I need to realize that He loves me, not because I'm good, but simply because HE IS.

Our minds are so limited and conditioned that we often forget that His love is unchanging toward us. No matter how ground in the grit, He still sees us as beautiful, as worth loving, as His own.

I speak with a soft hush, "I love you so much, Baby Girl... you'll forever be beautiful to me".

In my heart, the depths of my spirit, I hear Him.

"... and you'll forever be beautiful to me".

A quiet giggle returns.

Listen, O daughter, consider and give ear:
The king is enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is your lord. (Psalm 45:10a,11)