How Our Stories Fit Into THE Story

Category: Family

Riggedy jig and away we go- A tribute to grandma

Today we said goodbye to my grandma.  A memorial day of beautiful, bittter-sweet moments.  And somehow I feel the need to pen a few thoughts before the sun sets on this sacred day.

I’m  fighting to hear her voice again, her laughter ring in my ears. Suddenly this memory surfaces  and I can hear her sing with all gusto ..

.”…Rrr—iggedy jig and away we go, away we go, away we go, riggedy jig and away we go hi -ho, hi -ho,hi -ho.”

I’m 5 again, her soft hand holding mine and my little brother’s on her right.  We’re skipping up the hill by her house off on another grand adventure. Her little poodle, Tuffy tags along and discovers a butterfly on the sidewalk’s edge. Grandma stops us abruptly…  ” Look!!” She exclaims with a twinkle in her eye- “Isn’t that just won-der-ful!” she claps her hands with delight. “Our God is SO good to show us that!!” And then the song resumes and we skip off again into a world full of possibilities.

You see, this.  THIS is how she saw life.  Each day, a gift from Her creator and one step closer to Heaven.  Her eyes were trained to see the beauty all around and she’d often invite others to share in her joy.

I remember the house she and grandpa lived in and how excited we’d be to knock on that thick brown glass door and ring her cathedral chime doorbell.

I remember the front room, and how perfectly clean it was, doilies  covering every table top surface. To a little girl it appeared to be a mansion!!! I remember the honkey- tonk  piano and organ and how I learned my first piano pieces there by her side.

I remember the glass jars of peach rings, Werther’s originals, and Hershey chocolate nugget gold bars. (She’d always encourage us to sneak a few even in our grown up years).  I remember their den where she sat me on her lap and taught me to sew and the stories she’d tell tell while we did. She could captivate any audience with her stories, but children especially. I remember the smell of her lavender soap when we took baths there on overnight stays.

I remember childhood mornings or later in college when I often crashed there for the night. One thing never changed…the morning routine: the smell of coffee brewing, a hot bowl of oatmeal decorated with brown sugar and raisins, and sweet rolls on dainty glass plates at the table in the enclosed patio room. Grandma and Grandpa would begin every day (rain or shine, camping or home, healthy or sick) by cracking open the weathered blue Bible and reading a portion of scripture, then praying for each family member by name.

And then grandma would get up and fill the three bird feeders outside the window with a koolaid- red liquid. We’d  watch with anticipation  to notice which birds might come to visit  THAT day.   Hummingbirds were her absolute  favorite.

And she’d marvel at how God made such tiny creatures who could fly so fast. “Only He could design something like that. …and just imagine, if He could provide for the sparrows how much more will He take care of us??” She’d say.

She loved the Lord and His Word. One year, while taking care of my grandpa with Alzheimer’s, things were getting especially rough. Grandma had cared for him tirelessly.  She explained how Psalm 91 was her anchor. And she told us any grandchild who memorized  the chapter would get $10. We followed bait, line and sinker -dollar signs in our eyes.. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High God, will rest in the shadow of the Almighty....” What Grandma knew was that  $10 was a tiny investment compared to the deposit it made in our personal journeys with God.  For each of us, we’ve  clung  to those memorized truths in our toughest days.

We loved doing life with her. Each of the grandkids (and even our spouses) have a chapter we can point back to of weekly meals/Bible studies/scrabble games with Grandma. And we treasure those memories. She was just the type of lady people wanted to be around. Her joy and laughter, contagious.  

In recent  years my little family would accompany my dad and visit her at the retirement home where she lived. Though dementia was sneaking its way in, she had these great moments  of wit and humor. We’d sing and laugh together. She’d marvel at the kids’ voices saying “beau-ti-ful !!” and maybe encourage them to take a ride on her motorized scooter or “for Pete’s sake”  at least have “nut and chew” See’s candy.  We’d all leave encouraged and happy. That’s the affect she had on people.

Then one Tuesday morning  in February, just after her 92nd birthday, she woke with a stomach ache and was surprisingly gone within the hour.

As the doors to the hospital were being thrown open..the gates of heaven were doing the same. Heaven gained a saint.

Days later, I  helped my dad clean out her room, and a lady named Martha  stopped  by. With tears in her eyes she said, “I’m the housekeeper. Every Monday I’m here cleaning but I save your grandma’s room for last. She’s always here watching TBN and after my shift I sit for a spell and we sing hymns together and then we pray. There’s a lot of darkness in this world but she, she was a light of Jesus.

I sat on grandma’s bed with Martha  that day and cried big, fat, ugly tears because it wasn’t just US who knew the wonder of our grandma..it was everyone who came in contact with her. And even in her last days, when her mind was foggy and dementia set in….her foundation stood firm. She delighted in God and loved His people.

So tonight as the casket has been lowered, the ceremonies concluded, and the sun sets on the hills, I imagine Grandma looking down from heaven with that twinkle in her eye saying (like she did at the end of every phone call) “goodbye dearie.”

And I imagine her skipping off into heaven singing: “riggedy jig and away we go…hi -ho, hi -ho, hi- ho..”

Goodbye Grandma. We will miss you.

-Alyssa

second mother

Whether through adoption, foster care, or marriage, there’s a unique vulnerability in becoming a child’s second mother.

We’re 21 months into this adoption journey, nine since my littlest dragon joined our family.  It’s been both an eon and a finger snap.

The hard truth is that ‘mom’ love wasn’t automatic. Nurture, sure. But, every single ounce of genuine mom-level love has been earned through blood, sweat, and tears; a slow expansion of the heart.

I celebrated the day when authentic mom love finally began to spring forth on its own. But then the floor opened to reveal a whole other layer of uncharted territory — the ‘nameless’ territory.

Extending mom love and receiving back nameless engagement… Who am I in this little dragon’s life? More than a caregiver or guardian. Different from an aunt or grandma. Not yet (ever?) a mom. [And does an expansion of the second mother relationship require some sort of diminishment of the first mother? That seems crazy!]

The place of first mom will always be sacred. I get it. I honor it.

However, life in this waiting space requires staring into a huge, gaping gateway to the unknown. Questions fly by like ghastly phantoms, haunting me with unanswerable wonderings.

In between these aches and wonderings I’ve been thinking about God’s relationship with us. [Please don’t mistake this for bragging about some sort of *super* holiness. In the helplessness of this waiting space I’ve leaned into the only source of comfort I know; He has responded with kindness.]

All throughout the Bible God declares his unconditional parent-level love for his kids – each one of us – as seen in Jeremiah 31:3…

I have loved you with an everlasting love. I have drawn you with an unfailing kindness.

And all throughout he depicts the pain of us not loving him in return.

God, the one who offers perfect love, has kids who’ve chosen other ‘firsts’. He understands my aches. He surrounds me with tenderness and love as I face the unknown.

My work as a therapist and observations of friends who’ve adopted has also provided some comfort. Unfortunately, the reality is that no one can perfectly predict the terrain that lies on the other side of a waiting space.

Therefore, I must face the unknown with greater assurance than what can be drawn from circumstances.

Six years ago, acute pancreatitis landed me in a trauma unit – a huge, gaping gateway to the unknown.

The point at which I could no longer change my circumstances smacked me like a giant brick wall. The aches and wonderings threatened to swallow me whole. There, in that waiting space, Christ met me as Jehovah Nissi (The Lord My Banner).

He taught me that my warrior nature is from him so of course I’m to use it. Then, he added a critical component: press forward but slow down. Allow my heart to stand still in the midst of the fight so that my eyes can open to the miraculous power and peace that comes from his presence on the battle field.

Six years ago, I watched him work and I fell to my knees in awe proclaiming look at my God. Look at what’s he’s done!

Life has landed me on my knees again.

Jehovah Nissi, open my eyes to see your work on the battle field. Still my heart to sense your presence.

 

Laura

and… REPEAT

In November we practice GRATITUDE.

December – JOY.

January – NEW rythyms.

By February we’re distracted and BUSY.

Then, *poof* another year flashes by.

Imagine if we turned these Nov/Dec/Jan practices into a cycle that begins it’s second rotation every February.

Some might argue that February is for love.  But I say, what is love without gratitude?

I wish I was naturally thankful; a person from whom gratitude springs forth like a spunky cheerleader.  I sure admire friends who seem to offer it naturally AND authentically.  Man, they can change the world!!

For me, gratitude requires intentionality and tons of practice.  I have to literally force myself to STOP and formulate a ‘thank you’.  Otherwise the day flies by with barely more than a passing thought about the good, good gifts in my midst.

Perhaps that’s why I’m voting we expand the month of thanks-giving to other parts of the year, because, selfishly, I need an entire year to truly get the hang of it.

Plus, authentic gratitude leads to joy. Which then opens our eyes to clearer judgement for new rhythms.  And, new rhythms allow us the bandwidth to be present.

Dear ones, we have the potential to replace our *poof* years with the gift of presence!!!

Imagine being the generations who lead the younger ones to engage each other with eyes wide open.

I’ve recently been disappointed by some ‘no’s’ but, as Janel Thomas modeled in last week’s post (No and Yes) I’m forcing my heart to remember, and say thank you for, a few of God’s ‘yes’s’.

Father, thank you for understanding my disappointments and gently reminding me of a few victories.  Thank you for teaching me about trust.

 

Comment with your own ‘thank you’ statement.  Let’s practice gratitude together.

-Laura

Time-out

The countdown is on.

10 days till Christmas morning.

 

December’s pace is SO difficult to SLOW DOWN because – you know- all the festivities and fa-la-la’s.

No one ever told me what December meant for a mama- as if our to-do lists are not long enough. (I already struggle with OVERCOMMITTMENT in the normal year- for the LOVE!)

This month we add, gold medal- Olympicized expectations of ourselves that only Superwoman could really achieve.

  • Have your house decorated to the nines and immaculately CLEAN so that at any moment you can welcome in a stranger, be featured in a home tour,or at least highlighted on an Instagram newsreel.
  • Be at every child’s performance, class party, and sports event and provide home -baked goods and cute little pinteresty hand-crafted goody bags for each participant and teacher/coach.
  • Bake Alton Brown award winning organic, gluten, dairy and sugar-free cookies with your kids, (but only eat veggies and kale yourself so you don’t have too many pounds to record on your new year’s resolution…)
  • DIY all your Christmas gifts for family & friends and wow others with your hand knit king-sized blankets for your tribe Christmas morning
  • Follow through with traditions from past years so the kids have amazing memories and have less baggage to talk to their counselors about in future years.
  • Say “YES” to every invitation for parties, gift exchanges, Santa sightings, and plays so that your family is FULLY cultured in all things ARTSY- like a family full of Renaissance people.
  • Fit in a service opportunity to give back so you don’t feel too guilty about all the THINGS that have gone on your credit card this month in the name of AMAZON.
  • Create a packing list and prep for traveling abroad, or gleefully welcome out of town relatives into your peaceful little casita.
  • Finally, Post pictures of cuddle time on the couch with blankets so that others think you’re taking it easy with your people and soakin’ in the peace of the season.

These are crazy high expectations we put on ourselves.

And I’m bummed at myself for year after year, falling prey to the lion of lies.

And so, like a 49ers referee I’m blowing my whistle and throwing a big “T” (on myself & you) for a TIME OUT.

And In my heart I  hear YOU say, “Breathe. ”

“What’s important? What do you really value? What can you say “no” to?

Johnny Diaz sings it on K-LOVE radio, but every time it comes on I turn it up because it’s Jesus’ words to ME!

BREATHE….just breathe.

Come and rest at my feet.

And be…just be…

Chaos calls ….but all you really need.

Is to just breathe.

All you really need is….

to take it in.

Fill your lungs

 It’s the PEACE of God that overcomes.

Just Breathe.

Let your weary spirit rest

Lay down what’s good and find your best

Just breathe.

 

Today I want to invite us to BREATHE. close our eyes, be silent, remember our Prince of PEACE who came in a quiet way. That simple nativity scene in the midst of the lights and the loud jingles and the sugar highs and the lists of WANT’s.

We have life.

We have each other.

We have  a king who offers us peace when we surrender to Him.

For just a moment today….

Let’s breathe.

-Alyssa

stepping out

My oldest started middle school last month.

(Insert the sound of TRUMPETS and then come sit with me while I sulk with my blankie).

BIG. LIFE. Transitions- for HIM and for HIS PARENTS. 🙂

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We named him Joshua, and what has been so interesting is how that boy has lived up to his name.

In the Bible Joshua was a leader, but he sure wasn’t one from the start. He was slow-to-warm, cautious, and probably not the first to be put up front. God equipped him, anointed him as leader, and then reassured him again and again that he had what it took when he faced crazy challenges. And..20 something times throughout the Biblical book of Joshua God tells him, “Do not be afraid.”

Our firstborn is cautious, and conscientious, and being brave has been a bit of a challenge since he was little.

I have SO many memories of sitting with Joshua on the sidelines while other kids were jumping in to the activity and having to coax him into trying. When he was 3, I remember being on the side of the pool while his swim lesson classmates were splashing and participating and he was shaking and clinging on to me with all his might not wanting to go in. Because these scenarios were common  we began to memorize Bible verses (many from the book of Joshua) about fear. These were the encouragements God probably sang over his boy, Joshua. “Be strong and courageous, do not be afraid. Do not be discouraged. For the Lord your God will be with you, wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)


So when this fall marked the  D-DAY of MIDDLE SCHOOL, the anticipation of all this change just about put me under.

He’d have to move from our little school where we know everyone to a school with three times as many kids on campus. He’d have multiple teachers to get used to instead of just one.  He’d have lots of NEW people to get to know when only a few familiar faces were in each class.  Homework, rallies, phones, dances….oh, how my anxiety bubbled. And then entering YOUTH GROUP at church?…stick a fork in me.

And we are now a month in and my husband and I are absolutely amazed at how our boy has taken on this change.  So grateful for how the middle school has helped provide activities and groups for them to transition well.  But really…what has surprised us the most is how this boy has responded with COURAGE.

He wakes up ready and eager for a new day at school.

He’s taken on class changes, homework and new friends like a champ.

Last week he walked into youth group alone, knowing none of his buddies would be there.

WOW.

Fear still creeps up occasionally. Like last week when there was a challenge in a youth group scavenger hunt that sounded a little over-the-top to him.  There were a few “what ifs” and “I don’t know about that…s” and I wondered if I’d need to accompany him by the sideline again. How often fear can paralyze us. But when the time came – he went for it! He actually did it! The silly junior high antics didn’t match the tears hidden behind  my sunglasses, but I was so proud of the growth of my boy.

I’ve heard it said, “Courage is being afraid,  but doing it anyway. “

I need to hear that. Do you? There is plenty in this world to be afraid about, isn’t there?

But WHO is with us? Who is FOR us?

This morning I dropped him off a block away from school (because “mom, don’t park too close”). I watched him get out of the car, walk a few steps, and then turn around and look and wave & smile like he’s done since kindergarten.  I sat there and watched him walk with his head high onto the big campus with kids two feet taller than him.

And I was inspired by his example.

And this mama, heading off to my new job and filled with my own  insecurity and fear, sensed God  say to my heart….

“Mama, Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid. Do not be discouraged. For the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

-Alyssa

 

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just add water

My free fall summer of job change and adoption has pushed the concept of water through my heart like the draining of a million gallon tank.

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Just. Add. Water.

The tendency to crave insta-everything —instant happiness, instant depth, instant love… the notion that new relationships bring immediate satisfaction.

Wrong.  

Love takes time.  Love takes work.  Love takes intentionality.  Lasting love is slow to build.

Just. Add. Water.

God spent years stretching my heart in preparation for adoption.  Long before we met our new daughter he was equipping my family to include her.

However, change, even good change,  adds emotion and taxes energy. Consequently, each of us is functioning at capacity.  This means that emotion – joy, frustration, fear, sadness is muddled, messy, and easily brought forth.  I’ve hidden in my closet and shed tears of fear-filled weariness.  We’ve huddled and cried tears of happy-filled weariness.

It also means that I can’t expect myself to function at a typical energy capacity.  I’ve had to step away from commitments.  Responses are delayed.  I sometimes feel like a flake.  Friends and extended family go overlooked.   Thankfully they love me through it.

Grace.  Constant grace.  I’m normal.  And that’s okay.  At least that’s the healing water they keep offering me.

Just. Add. Water.

I’m vulnerable in this state of openness.  The ‘what if’s’ haunt me.  They wash over my heart in tsunami-size waves of fear.

We moved in May (have I mentioned that?).  Every wall is bare.  Except for one thing, hanging in the staircase I climb a hundred times each day.  I need it as a reminder of the verse God gave me when our hearts were broken in care for a little one.  Here’s my paraphrase of its message:

The stakes are high when I move deeper into battle.  I’m vulnerable and exposed.  Pain is imminent, death is possible. BUT, I know (and will continue to preach this truth to myself) that YOU are the shield around me.  When I cling to the edge of sanity I cling to you.  My overflow of messiness, failures, and victories, I give it all to you.  Because you can handle it.  Because you love me in it.  You will never leave me.  You will never ask me to pull it together or clean myself up.  You are enough.  In you, I am enough.

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Just. Add. Water.

Christ declared himself the Living Water.

Look, I have a strong marriage, close family, solid friendships, and a supportive community.  I know who I am and what I can contribute to this planet.  I’ve spent years practicing therapy, I’ve received therapy, and I have an expansive mental health toolkit.  I’m good at self-care and self-talk.

At the end of the day, the only water that has ever fully quenched my deepest soul-level needs is Christ.  Plain and simple.

The challenges won’t disappear.  After all, the bravest living invites pain and fear.

I am convinced that only in Him can a million gallons of water flow through me and not crush me.

 

Laura

 

 

 

Chipping away

 

jann

Several months ago something changed drastically in my life. For the last ten years, my husband and I have had the great pleasure of being empty-nesters. It has been a glorious time that I  had dreamed of as a young mom. Those days of someone following me into the bathroom, or cries in the night were over and we were having a delightfully beautiful time in our marriage.

 

We ate where and when we wanted

We travelled with no worries of children at home

We participated in ministry with no sacrificing family time

Life was free of extra burdens!

 

Sounds fabulous, and it was until………..

 

My mother was diagnosed with dementia and required our assistance and so it began. I’d like to tell you that this “woman of God” (me), was happy to have her mother move into her home. Unfortunately, I was hesitant, to have my nice, pleasant life changed in this manner.

 

Have you been here? Have you been unwilling to allow God to use a situation to grow your faith? 

 

God has and continues to use my new life with mom to chip away at my old self to create something new in me.

 

And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.

And hope does not put us to shame because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

Romans 5:2-5

 

Let me be honest, It has been hard, gut wrenching at times, confusing, sacrificial, frustrating and yet there has been joy in the midst.  I know it doesn’t make any sense but somehow there is a new thing growing up inside of me.

 

Romans tell us that our problems can build character. It doesn’t tell us that it will be easy, fun or even exciting! I can attest to that! This process of chipping away at my old self is hard, and I struggle most days to see it as a blessing. However, when I look back over the months I can see His hand, leading me, His Spirit calming me, and convicting me of some stinky, bad attitudes, and His Son showing me how to live a life that bestows grace upon grace to others.

 

Would I choose this, no! I really like comfort and independence, but I said, “Yes” to serving God any way that He would call me to.

For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son,

that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters.

Romans 8:29

 

The chipping away is not just so that He can remove that which is not pleasant to him, but also so that He can remake us into an image that is beautiful to Him, to become Christ-like in our whole being. When I think about my life in those terms, it becomes less of a challenge and more of a gift. I can’t believe I am saying this, “Having my mom live with us is a gift that God is using to refine me. It is out of love that he called me into this season and I praise Him for it!”

 

He told them this parable: “No one tears a piece out of a new garment to patch an old one. Otherwise, they will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. Luke 5:36-38

 

The Father is calling us to allow Him to remake us any way He chooses so that He can fill us with new attitudes, new desires, new experiences and ultimately to be filled up to overflowing with His Spirit.

 

This is not for the faint-hearted however he has taken this stubborn, strong-willed child and given me a glimpse of what He wants me to be. Surprisingly, I am still saying yes because what He has to offer is more beautiful than anything I have ever known.

 

Where is He chipping away your old self? Are you willing to allow Him full access to redesign you?


12473874_1671747643100633_8918657727774404007_oJann Cobb is  a wife, a mom and a teacher. She loves coffee, Paleo and finding God in the everyday moments.  You can hear more from her heart at http://www.janncobb.com

 

 

 

Parenting by Faith: Adolescence

Lord, please tell me what to do! 

The helpless plea swirled around the room as I knelt by the bed, the door closed and locked, my mind reeling from a brief but loaded incident with my 12-year-old son . . .

My son turned twelve this week. At least I think it was my son. I say this because he is so different than he was just six months ago. He has the same hair, the same slow, deliberate walk, the same eyes, but sometimes I feel like the son I know, the sweet, mild-mannered delight with the ready smile, was abducted by aliens and replaced with a look-alike gremlin of raw testosterone.

green eyed monsterAnd it rattles me.

Sometimes it drives me to a blind run on every parenting book I can lay my hands on. So, as I sat there, I frantically sifted through my options. Biblical principles and wisdom gleaned in parenting classes paraded erratically through my mind, but none addressed the problem directly — and I needed direct help.

Who do I know . . . ?  My mind triumphantly fastened on a close friend that had successfully raised three boys — “successful” as in, they have respectable jobs, families, a walk with God, and of highest priority today —

they weren’t the death of their mother.

Bingo.

I snatched up the phone and dialed. “Hi, you’ve reached 555…” Not the machine!  Deflated, I left a pathetic message and hung up.

Now what? My husband was out of town so I had no one else to consult.

I was parenting alone, stranded in a hothouse of pubescent testosterone with my man-child, and had no idea what to do.

Trapped without options, I knelt and prayed again, “Lord, please tell me what to do.”

Once again, the urge to scramble to the bookcase and ransack it for parenting help was immediate and strong. However, God chose that moment to remind me of a talk I was preparing featuring the sufficiency of Scripture to meet practical needs. In my notes I’d written, “Do you believe God will hear your prayers and speak to you? Is His Word really able to answer your questions and meet the need you face today?”

I was ready to challenge others, but was I ready to embrace the challenge myself?

Humbled, I decided to wait on God’s help and guidance from Scripture for my own pressing need.

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A quick, definitive answer to my prayer didn’t come that day. But as I pressed in to God and listened and waited, He spoke deeply a few weeks later through my daily Bible study:

“God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

These familiar words caught at my heart as I reflected on the many ways God had expressed His unconditional love for me. My mind replayed instance after instance of God’s patience and unmerited kindnesses toward me. It was in the midst of these revealing ruminations that my son’s face appeared in my mind’s eye.

Carefully, I considered the passage again and God’s voice broke in on my thoughts, “Just as surely as you have needed and relied on My love, so your son needs unconditional love from you more than anything else today.” As God’s gentle words soaked into the freshly tilled soil of my heart I knew:

The transformation that needed to happen wasn’t within my son, it was within me.

That afternoon when my son climbed into the car after school, he looked different to me. Instead of the multi-headed, green-eyed gremlin, I saw a vulnerable young boy caught in the swift and unpredictable current of emerging manhood.

I saw a child who needed his mom to love him.

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God continues to transform my perspective. He helps me see past my son’s erratic attitudes and into the emotional and spiritual battle surrounding his struggle toward manhood. And bit by bit, gems of wisdom tumble out of God’s Word and into my heart reminding me that I’m called to live by faith as a mom, too.

Today my son is still trapped in the jaws of the hormonal beast, and sometimes I miss the parenting clues God faithfully provides. But one thing is certain, I no longer view my son through a distorted lens of fear, I see him through the steady eye of faith —

— and love.

****

I wrote this story almost ten years ago and am thrilled to report that clinging to God’s Word and anchoring in His heart was indeed “enough” to impart the wisdom I desperately needed as we passed through the difficult passage of adolescence. As a result, God built a strong relationship based on unconditional love and trust that is still thriving today.

What about you? What is the biggest challenge you face as a mom?

 

Bethany is a writer, speaker, and Women’s Ministry Team Leader at a rapidly growing church in California. She writes Bible studies, dabbles in fiction, and has written articles for Focus on the Family and Christianity Today’s online resource for women. She has been a speaker for over fifteen years and loves helping women anchor deep in God’s heart to discover His unchanging love and powerful purpose for their lives. 

When Bethany isn’t wielding a pen or wearing a lapel mic, she’s hanging out with her husband, kids, and a trio of puggies, all of whom provide endless inspiration . . .

You can book Bethany for your event at bethanymacklinministries.com, connect with her on Facebook  or follow her blog at bethanymacklinministries.com/blog to anchor deeper in God’s heart today.

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