Opportunity

Sunday afternoon musings...

*Images from early May. 6AM beach time is becoming his thing... 

It’s Sunday mid-afternoon and I’m parked on a steep incline in a neighborhood overlooking the ocean. I need a break from the sameness of house quarantine for a bit. Maybe it’s more accurate to say I need a break from the constant making of food, cleaning up from food, restricting the over-consumption of food, and then more cooking and cleaning. Typically, the best of all breaks for me is a chance to run or to write.

For the last 10 weeks I have not repeated a single dinner. With the exception of the times Jon grilled burgers for us, or a couple nights when we had enough leftovers, or the occasional take-out, I’ve kept it variable at the table. When stay-at-home orders initially took place, and one quarantine day blended into the next, it felt like the least I could do to interject a bit of change. It was a fun creative exercise for a while, but I’m over it now. I really want the flexibility of falling back on old stand-by dishes now and then.

So much change has come in the way we are experiencing this COVID-19 situation. I find it interesting how we all naturally find ways of stabilizing, kind of like homeostasis of an organism. Though there are so many people and activities we are eager to get back to, there are many ways in which this forced pause on life has been good and restorative. I was happy to discover many unexpected gifts. There is newfound gratefulness for the things we once took for granted, and gratefulness for some things we were spared from; I’m thankful for a plethora of opportunity in the quiet, and new possibilities granted through change. God has paved our way in a multitude of ways and I am sure that, in time, we will see even more of his handiwork.

The crowds and traffic were pretty heavy as I drove down the coast this afternoon. Most people are not following the letter of the law on masks and social distancing, but, for the most part, they are following the spirit of the law. I just love that I live in a place where physical activity is facilitated. It makes me happy to see all the surfers, runners, bikers, skateboarders, walkers, and families strolling. I am right there with them on most days.

In fact, still in my pajamas, I took Andrew to the beach this morning at 6 am. He wanted to body board the barrels before breakfast and video/home/family church. I love this about him. And his quarantine mop head. I love that, too.

Before anyone thinks it's all wonderful here by the coast, though, know that there is a nauseating stench coming up from the sea on some days. Andrew smelled like sewage when I picked him up before breakfast today. The red tide has been particularly bad this year. Several weeks ago, the water looked like there had been a horrid biohazard spill, but at nighttime it sparkled with a magical bioluminescence. The algae bloom responsible for all of this is dying off, and now it reeks.

Of course my mind draws up word pictures when I’m putting in my running miles along the coast. The Light of God (daylight) shines and reveals what we really are on our own (something like biohazard material); once our true nature has been revealed to us and we are made right through his Son, God sends dark trials (night) to sanctify and beautify us (bioluminescence). We could never see what he is producing in us without the dark waves of trial. Oh, yes, and the changes may produce a temporary stench as we die to self. Others may even voice consternation by our changing, but death must always accompany new life.

I hope to be refined through this season. Initially, when the whole world was brought to its knees by a novel virus, I gave over any fear to God. If he wanted me to be among the dead, I asked that my death would influence others for eternity. If he would be pleased, I asked that my dying would be used to bring saving faith to others. Whatever it takes. Yes, I’m a little dramatic like that, but I’m also that confident in a good God who never falters on his promises and whose plans work for good. 

Our home has been peaceful as the world spins in a frenzy. I’m grateful for my husband. He is certainly aware of national and international circumstances, but his steadiness and calm have been remarkable. The atmosphere of our home could not be as peaceful if he lacked confidence in God and if he gave in to fear or anger. Perhaps our kids don’t see it yet, but I think this will be a testimony in time to come. These are instructive times, and it is up to us to teach/live what is good. This we know: We will be held in the good and loving hands of our Father today and always. We have a hope as an anchor to the soul, firm and secure. 

Truly, we get a good dose of reality during dinnertime conversations with Jon, but the overall atmosphere and take-away is a calm peace. It’s true that we are witnessing sociopolitical changes and crumbling economies; we try to picture what our future will look like (and that of a generation on the cusp of independence). Like it or not, we are each forced to make a choice regarding what we see. Jon leads us to see… opportunity. Change and disruption always unearth opportunity, and we are constantly discussing what those might be.

Beyond that, on the most basic and foundational level, we have all been given a pretty grand opportunity to build up faith and confidence in God. This must be a priority. (Parents, don’t squander it!)

“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.”

~Katherine

A Song in the Night

There is a songbird that resides in a treetop near my bedroom. He sings a midnight song when the world is dark and still. Possibly he is in desperate search for a mate, but his melody seems peaceful to me. He even maintains his tune through rainy nights. Though some might find him irritating, he's been my favorite songbird this season and I don't mind my sleep interrupted.

Portions of Ecclesiastes 3 read:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up;

a time to breakdown, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to seek, and a time to lose;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak...

The time to speak has come, but to do it with (much) restraint. It is the time to shake off fear of naysayers, slanders, gossipers, and those who desire our downfall. I've spent weeks wondering if I should ever post again, wondering if the likelihood of willful misalignment is worth this freedom.

Funny how a little bird can be a picture of courage to proclaim what is worthy of praise in the midst of darkness and downpour.

I realize this blog has been risky business for years. There have been some who come to pick apart, to judge, and to criticize with less than friendly intent. Despite this, it has never been my goal to present a perfect life that is free of areas needing growth or fixing. My goal has always been to be just a small voice doing my small part of proclaiming the goodness of God despite the facts of my life and my many failures.

I have been reading through the book of James recently as a source of godly wisdom during difficult times. The wisdom contained is priceless; without learning from it I might have been too hasty or undisciplined with my words here. I have suppressed the urge to defend those I love and respect or to lash out in anger and resentment. I do believe in divine judgment, so to suffer quietly is far safer in the grand scheme! 

Chapter three of James speaks of a great forest set ablaze by just a small spark. In the same way, the tongue, though small in size, has the power to execute immense destruction. Words spoken behind closed doors, words written and distributed, and words taken in and repeated have all proven to be like sparks to kindling. The consequences should be no surprise. Words have set aflame a community and a congregation; the destruction has been profound, and the inferno is not easily contained.

Words have immense power whether intended or not. To the fullest degree, they have the power of life and death. When some have mounted a full-out smear campaign, we choose not to play the game in return. I've watched my husband absorb repeated false accusations and misalignment. I have kept silent as the credibility and reputation of my family has been dragged through the mud. I have wept with my kids in disbelief. I have turned numb as friends turn their backs.

It brings us to a pause; it is a forced opportunity to evaluate ourselves and question where our hope and joy reside. The outworking of recent turmoil is newfound resolution. Come what may, our hope is in the Lord. He will accomplish his intended purposes and we trust that our loving Father is always good. Day by day, he promises new mercies and grace to endure.

I took these pictures early in the month of March, when a trial that would eventually feel like a hell on earth was just beginning. Jon came home from a lengthy meeting late in the evening, and he needed to be in L.A. early the next morning. I jumped in the car with an overnight bag in hand, knowing that our time together and opportunity to talk would be extremely limited. We arrived at a little Airbnb bachelor pad in the Hollywood hills somewhere near midnight.

There's something ironic about trials: They always bring what is good. Even then, as it was just beginning, our trial brought deeper connectivity in communication, earnest companionship, excitement at what God was doing, and the wonders of physicality, too. With renewed hope, we were up with the Los Angeles sunrise. God's mercies are new every morning, only some mornings that mercy seems extra evident.

We took a short hike in the hills as the sun continued to rise in the sky, savoring our relationship and the short moments we had together. I'd marry my husband all over again in a heartbeat.

A shot of our Airbnb~
Our little pad was the upper left-hand corner, with perfect skyline and sunrise views.

I took the nine o'clock train out, completing our 9-hour getaway. From my seat I snapped pictures through yellow-tinted train windows, and journaled and listed thoughts from the prior days~

March 5, 2019

Amtrak

Shock and Sorrow

The words 'shock and sorrow' keep ringing in my head as the only words that describe what is transpiring. These words seem like opposite extremes, but intertwined together they become correct expressions of the sentiment.

Sunday night Olivia and I lingered late in the living room, exhausted by emotional drain. We talked candidly of the shock and of the sorrow. Trial has a way of maturing a young heart quickly. She was already born an old-soul type of girl, and I can see this trial forming her into a pillar of strength and a portrait of gentle beauty. She just doesn't know it yet. One thing I've learned in life is that the strongest of people are born through heartache and difficulty. 

My sons, though not all as emotional or communicative, have also learned lessons of character. They are learning the lessons of acting "gentle as doves, but wise as serpents." This will serve them well.

My children have seen their father wholeheartedly submit himself to the elders, to humbly receive accusations, and to entrust himself to his God. They have heard him thank the Lord for trial, and even to rejoice in it because God promises it for our good always. He has reminded us that personal reputation is not what we live for; it is not the prize of our lives, but Christ is. We have prayed together then lifted our heads knowing that God will never fail. We wait to see his handiwork.

In a way, these moments have been a tender grace of God in our family life. I do believe this time in our lives will one day bear fruit in the lives of our kids, and for this I wait in eager expectation.

What ought to be our response in trial?

1. Trust in God explicitly
2. Entrust your well-being to God's sovereignty and his unfailing love
3. Understand that trial is for our good and his glory
4. Walk humbly, finding comfort and companionship in the Savior
5. Endeavor to learn; repent when necessary
6. Remember that in a time of testing, we must be doers of the Word

When we are betrayed...

1. Don't regret having displayed love and kindness; no matter the outcome, it wasn't a waste
2. Keep a tender heart; resist fear of committing to relationship again
3. If appropriate, recommitment to former relationships will take increased wisdom and caution
4. Trust in God's timing and method of sanctifying his children (ourselves and others)
5. Remember that God executes perfect judgment or perfect forgiveness
6. Acknowledge pain, but commit to doing good and loving with hope
7. Understand that trust isn't wed to forgiveness
8. Don't expect apology or acknowledgement of any sort
9. Be thankful for the exposure of people's character and the nature of relationships. Nothing has changed, only now it is exposed. This new knowledge will be a protection.

>:<

Much has transpired in two months. More shock and sorrow, yes, but also more hope, more evidences of grace, more growth. Seasons in relationship have changed, some for better, some not. Much has been learned, and much more has been ingrained in our character as God gives us the ability to persevere. And help comes in many ways: comrades in the faith carry the load with us; truth from the Word is understood and wisdom is gained for its application; a biblical lens helps to interpret people, events, and responses; and the Spirit guides in unmistakable ways.

One thing remains: the love of God that never fails. Because of his love, we can temporarily enter into his sufferings with the hope of sharing the eternal glory. Through shock and sorrow, joy will emerge like a song in the night.


~Katherine

Palm Springs

{A post written Friday afternoon from a waiting place.}

It's been the week of VBS here. It's been filled with mornings where people are up and out in the 6 o'clock hour with multiple car loads going out at ungodly hours, and the delight of serving and being with people we love. It's a summer highlight each year. I enjoyed my own group of 14 VBS kiddos - sharing the gospel and getting to know their families in new ways. I've loved seeing my big kids take part, too. Michael has been serving for the last seven straight days, sometimes up to 10-hour days (heading up audiovisual with another teen). Olivia has put in just as many hours with the drama team, and assisting alongside me, then heading off to the ice cream shop where she worked some evening shifts. I love seeing my kids work hard and enjoy it.

Summer hasn't been for resting much, but heaven will be!

Several weeks ago we took off for Palm Springs for a couple nights. The goal was to rest and reconnect after the end of the school year. Two nights in the desert was nice. It would have been nicer if there had been more rest, but early morning swims in the desert heat was just too much for us to pass up. Maybe if the younger boys would have slept in, the rest of us would have as well. Andrew set his alarm for 6AM so that he could have breakfast out by the pool alone. He's cool like that. Then Jack would join him shortly after, and, well, the rest of the family would appear one by one in swim wear and a coffee mug in hand. There's something so wonderful about the desert heat to welcome the end of the school year. 

We stayed in an Airbnb house (below). Specifically, we got to experience an Alexander house; much more enjoyable than a hotel or resort.

Even Jack got to have coffee every morning. 

I didn't take a ton of pictures, but these are from the walk Jon and I took around the block. Jon absolutely loves mid-century modern architecture and design. He'd live in the desert, whereas two days was just the right length of time for me. My urge to get out and move interprets the intense heat as far too limiting.

(I didn't have the right lens, which explains why the homes are cropped as they are below.)

Orange everywhere. It gave me the impulse to buy Creamsicles for the first time ever, I think. 

I found out my kids prefer fudge. Yay for learning something new every day!

Jon with our kids, below~

I was going to post this picture for Father's Day, but instead he was chasing down some stolen property and I was on the phone with the police. There's nothing better than grilled steak with the family and a little adventure with the boys for Father's Day. Then we topped it off with gelato in La Jolla.

This man, though... How did I score like this? I've seen his commitment to his kids and to their mother rise to new levels again this year. Life gets tough and commitments either collapse or are reinforced. By the grace of God, Jon's commitment is on display in the countless ways he sacrificially loves us day in and day out.

The daylight was dim and my shutter speed was too low, resulting in blurred images (above and below). I'm happy anyway because moments and memories were captured. I'm pretty sure Michael shouldn't have been laying on the "Lawn Chair" art, but we so enjoyed his burst of playfulness during our time away.

For some of us, the wild whispers our name and beckons us to come. If you know, you just know.

Family getaways are some of my favorite things ever. The experience of them seems to get better with time, with each memory remembered and recounted. Even the unpleasant parts somehow become humorous, or at least they are lessons learned. You should know and expect that there are always unpleasant parts to family vacations. And since this is my personal blog, not Facebook or Instagram where only the happiest parts are celebrated, I get to be a little more upfront and genuine.

As much as we may wish, vacations have no rules against difficulty. There are no personal spaces against heartache, no zones for happiness only, no defenses against the trials of life. We can get hit hard during our happiest times, exactly when we least expect it; or maybe there are seasons when the trials just seem relentless.

One night I lay restless, sorrowful, questioning. I'd sleep a short while just to wake and start my teary prayers over again. Pleading. Grieving. Begging God for hope, for wisdom, for miracles.

Trials have taught me the faithfulness of God. Ironically, the very circumstances that cause me to wonder if he hears and if he cares are the conditions that force me to cling to his promises with greater fervency and expectation. Trials are what force me to believe in the faithfulness of God to keep his promises and to never change. God takes me to a point of complete dependence, unable even to sleep on my own. Restless nights of prayer eventually bring rest to my soul.

Palm Spring mornings are special. The sun rises and a great mountain wall shimmers in gold. A new day shines afresh, mercies new.

That majestic Palm Springs mountain I could see through the slit I'd left open in the blinds recalled passages of scripture to mind, like a balm. I'm a Bible passage underliner. Some say this is a bad practice because it means your eyes always fall on underlined verses at the neglect of others. That was definitely the case for me that morning, and I'm still thankful, still reaping the benefits. Chapter by chapter, page by page, my eyes picked out some underlined verses:

"I lift my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber."
Ps. 121:1-2

"To you I lift up my eyes, O you who are enthroned in the heavens! ...Our eyes look to the Lord till he has MERCY on us." Ps. 123:1-2b

"Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth." Ps. 124:8

"Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved, but abides forever."
Ps. 125:1

"Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him." Ps. 126:7-8

The entire chapter of Ps. 130 is underlined in my Bible, but I'll just type out a portion:

"Out of the depths I cry to you, O lord! O Lord, hear my voice! ...I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I HOPE... For with the Lord there is steadfast LOVE, and with him is PLENTIFUL REDEMPTION."


~Katherine

Pain Before Beauty

I’m sitting in the middle seat of the middle bench of my car. I always call the vehicle I drive a “car,” but really it’s an 8-seat people transporter SUV. The sun is harsh this afternoon and I'm trying to limit my squinting and frowning, which threaten to give me more pronounced so-called “expression lines” while I wait on one of my kids. Had I been a little more prepared, I would have changed and used the time to workout while I wait.

Our house has been under construction for the last while. Most of our exterior siding has been torn down for replacement because it was in very bad condition. Some of the older areas needed replacement studs, window headers, fresh insulation, and foundational supports; all of our windows and exterior doors will be replaced as well. This has been so needful: no more rain coming in, no more wind blowing locked doors wide open, no more glass rattling in old aluminum frames, no more views obscured by foggy windows due to defective seals…and an opportunity to recreate and modify according to our preferences and needs.

The incessant banging and pounding is a little obnoxious, but it’s a necessary step to progress. So is the dust and dirt that is appearing everywhere inside, and the interference to my ability to accomplish as much as I’d like in a day. I’ve often thought that progress usually comes by way of setbacks. In fact, as I often do, my mind makes connections between the things I see and experience, and the facts of life. There is a necessity to trouble, inconvenience, and pain in life if we desire progress, personal growth, or change. A few examples come to mind:

Demo and dirt before new construction
Muscle pain before muscle strength
Mental exertion before new concepts understood
Messy kitchen before meals
Greater disorder before reorganized closets
Winter before spring
Rain before growth
Labor before delivery
Toil before harvest and feast
Failure before learning
Trial before faith and perseverance
Repentance before forgiveness
Death to self before new life in Christ

Sometimes great pain must come before triumph. Several of my recent conversations have been about faithful women, and over again I keep noting that the strand that connects their stories together is great pain, trial, and adversity. Strong women are not the result of an easy life. Remarkable beauty, depth of character, wisdom, virtue, and true hope in God are typically birthed through pain. And a deep and life-giving relationship with Christ that goes beyond mere head and Bible knowledge often comes through the bonds of suffering.

A couple weeks ago, I noticed that one of the rose buds on my bush had been severely damaged as a result of the demo/construction project of our house. The tiny bud was wilted and appeared totally doomed, hanging from a stem that was nearly completely severed. A week or so later, however, I discovered that it had begun to bloom.

Though the stem was still crooked and bent, it had fully mended. The once delicate stem had transformed to a gnarled stock, stronger and more defined than it had been before. The bloom was now receiving water and nourishment (not from itself, but from the plant), allowing it to flourish and carry out its created purpose. The purpose of all flowers is not only to add beauty to the environment, or to provide nectar for other creatures, but to produce a seed for a new plant to grow with many more blossoms to come.

Sometimes the mere fact that a person has been violently torn down makes their rising again so remarkable, so beautiful. Because of its shape and story of survival, this blossom was now best suited for a higher place.

It makes me remember not to fear pain or hardship, and that a bad situation may need to get worse before beauty can arise.

Today I’m confronted with the fact that I’ve got to tear down some incorrect notions before rebuilding correct thinking, and before living with confidence. Freedom comes at a cost. All my life I’ve been a player in someone else’s disturbed scheme, and I’ve been required to play along, trapped in a nightmare. Scared, confused, hopeless, hurt… frequently carrying a burden never meant for my shoulders to bear.

Ever notice that nightmares are hard to describe to another person? Words used to communicate a night terror never seem adequate to describe the mental torment and the reason for night sweats; mere words are inadequate to describe why in the morning the thoughts can’t be easily shaken. Some bad dreams never seem to end. And so it is with me: I’ve been silenced, unable to tell my story. I’ve run and hid many times, set the burden behind, determined to set a new course, make a new beginning. Then, once again, I’m confronted with the need to rescue another and I’m caught in the twisted game once more.

Seems odd for me to write such things here, sort of veiled and rather abruptly. It’s my constant quandary: needing the courage to speak (and receive help and hope), and respecting the privacy of others. Does truth always need to be spoken? If not spoken, am I taking part in a lie?

I'm left asking the same questions over again: What is most loving in this situation? What is the right thing to do? Courage through telling, I think, will be our freedom.

If truth sets free, then freedom is going to hurt.

Pain before freedom. Suffering before the beauty of freedom.

I think this is most loving, too.

~Katherine

Made to Proclaim

*Pictures from August

Fit pumping to celebrate a success.

Looking for treasures, living or non-living.

Andrew is currently my most passionate lover of the sea.

I was a girl that loved the mountains and the snow. I'm still that girl, I think, but in the providence of God I find myself living on the coast far from what I once knew and loved.

It may seem odd to some, but it took a long time (12 years, in fact) of living in California before I had any affection for the ocean. Now I see it from my pillow in the morning, I watch the sail boats in the distance from my kitchen window, I run on the packed sand when the tide is out, or in the salty spray when the waves crash up against the rocks onto the roadside; with my kids I bob in the swell or ride the surf in exhilaration, we explore the pools, and dive below wall-like waves.

How could I not love it?

I love the moody temperament of the sea, all shades of color, emotion. It has a complex effect on the one who observes and interacts: it is calming or energizing, it brings a sense of peace or eeriness, it can be hospitable or merciless. I am drawn to this mystery and am reminded that all nature proclaims the glories of its Creator.

I was made to proclaim his glories, too...

(Andrew paddling out in the forefront, Jacob somewhere with the rest.)

This morning I read Ps. 107, then at breakfast time I read portions to my kids before we all tackled our day. 

We were reminded (or learned once again) that it is our duty and privilege to give thanks, to praise, and to recount the many ways God has rescued us out of trouble and destruction. It is for our good to proclaim His redemptive work. "Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom he has redeemed out of trouble."

This morning I paused to think about the many times in my life that God rescued me and delivered me from hardship, pending calamity, and consequences of sin. It's important to look back and to recount those things in thanksgiving. This is, of course, a humble way to praise the Lord for his works, but it also benefits our own spiritual health in a way that produces joy. I want my kids to hear me regularly giving testimony of God's work in my life. I want them to know what I've done and what I've experienced (though difficult it may be to explain), and to know how God has delivered me. They need to know what God has done as recorded in scriptures, but they also need to see that God continues to work wonders in the lives of his children.

We also talked about God's loving kindness and desire to save. This is sometimes displayed in the trouble and hardship he brings/allows in order to break us of arrogance and rebellion. God, in his kindness, will have his way. 

Because of the confidence I have in the goodness of the Lord, I will take comfort in this and give over my mother's heart to his care. If it takes hardship, trial, or painful consequence for my children to come to repentance and saving faith, then I say bring it on. It could never cost too much to know the redeeming work of God. Any pain on this side of eternity is a mercy of God if it opens our eyes to his gift of forgiveness and eternal life.

I've been reminding my kids that conviction of sin is a mercy. We should think of guilt and conviction as a kindness from God, proof that he loves us personally and is drawing us to repentance, forgiveness, and freedom. Conviction of sin is not evidence of God's frustration, disappointment, or anger, but rather it is his gentle calling into relationship with him through Christ. Yes, conviction is a consequence and a warning, but ultimately it is to draw us into a right relationship with the one true God.

I pray that the Lord would loose my lips, and I endeavor to practice proclaiming his goodness in my life. I pray that I would wholeheartedly put my hope in his kind and loving character, come what may.

~Katherine

For Olivia

She is my Olivia-girl. My sixteen year old first-born, my feminine comrade and companion, my daughter-friend.

And she is my most devoted blog reader, looking over past posts and pictures with regularity. She loves family tradition, documentation, and consistency, and she KNOWS I haven't posted her birthday pics yet! 

But I haven't forgotten. (Plus we still want to do a little photo shoot to commemorate this sweet year of life.) These are from a few celebrations she had with family and friends over the course of a few days. The last set were taken on a whim in the middle of a school day.  

So here you go, Liv...

You are loved and admired by your brothers...

...loved by your Auntie and Grandma,

by extended family in the North,

...loved, adored, and treasured by Dad and me.

And your friends, too... They cherish your friendship!

You are the best to venture with; you are always game for finding secret places, and for laughing over odd people doing odd things. You make the best impersonations, and have a way of making us relive the good times! 

(Won't we always remember how I almost got assaulted by a whiskered woman for taking this picture?! Wait, are you a Kennedy?)

You appreciate simplicity and find beauty in people and in relationships.

You make the world lovelier with your art and music, your tender heart, and respectful conduct.

You are devoted to the most important things in life, hard working and yet fun-loving.

You are at peace, and you strive to bring peace.

You are confident. 

You seek to understand true freedom, but display maturity with your consideration in that freedom.

You feel the allure of beautiful places and things, a common bond we share.

You partner with me and set aside obligation and responsibility to consume and create beauty.

If memories can be art, you've created 16 years of beautiful art with me.

Never give up your JOY in life, never let another steal your PEACE.

Never lose the IDENTITY you have in Christ...

... Because these just might be your secret weapons.

I have watched your faithful study of God's Word.

Keep searching for God in the pages of His Word; know that when you seek Him with all your heart, you will surely find Him.

Know that God is all around, near to you, never leaving.

He loves you with an everlasting love.

Live your life fully, Olivia, and chase hard after the dreams and the desires God has put in your heart for His glory. 

And yet, live your life with open hands of praise. Hold your ambitions with open hands, too. When life doesn't go as expected, know that His ways and His plans are higher than yours, and He can be trusted always.

Keep your eyes on eternity, fixed on Jesus Christ who is the author and perfecter of your faith.

My heart is big for you, Olivia. I want to be your most passionate cheerleader in life! You are remarkably gifted and you have so much potential, and we are incredibly proud of who you are and who you are becoming!

I will always cheer for the good things you have and do in life-- you can count on that. I want to remind you, though, that your worth is far more than your accomplishments, far more than your talents. Your value is not defined by your beauty or your brains. It's more than what people think of you or how you build your reputation. 

I want to go deeper than just cheering and waving and smiling. There are difficult realities to life that await, and I would do you such harm by neglecting to warn and prepare you. There are battles that lay ahead, sometimes hidden behind unexpected corners. 

I already told you how I blurted out to a group of people a while ago that we need to be training up warrior women. Yes, warriors. Strong, resolute, and sometimes bloodied warrior women are desperately needed. We talked about it briefly in the car on the way to school. I told you how I wished I had bloodied my knuckles on some boys who harassed, disrespected, and regularly groped me in the crowded hallways of my high school. I let them and others convince me that things would get worse if I fought back, and I feared not being believed or being humiliated even further if nothing was done by others to protect me. The fear of getting in trouble or of embarrassing my family (I know, how twisted!) was greater than the respect I had for myself. Go ahead, Olivia, bloody your knuckles; kick and scream and make a scene. Run. Warrior style. 

Don't be overcome by lies. Be wise and savvy to the ways of the world, and know that you can be tough. There's no telling what your battles may be, but keep telling yourself that you are worth more than the evil or the lies some would want to harm you with. Know that you can always be stronger, braver, bolder. Know that you can learn anything, drive anything, conceal carry if you need to.

Sounds extreme? Maybe, but then again, maybe not. Being tough and brave in the midst of fear is still not enough. God calls you to even stronger skills!

I think the church often trains up girls to fit a certain (faulty) definition of femininity that is soft and tender, "protected." This is not true femininity. You need to be suited up for battle with armor; you need to know the tricks of your enemy, and you need to know the battle plan of your Commander.

Much more than what you can see and feel and comprehend, the life we live is a battle fought in the spiritual realm. Let me tell you, it's a scary world and it's getting scarier all the time. Persecution and suffering is promised, and you need to be prepared. I don't know: your fight could be in the midst of armies, it could be against people or false teachers/leaders, it could be within the four walls of your house, or a battle in the crevices of your heart. 

But be confident in this: God gives you protection, and He is with you to the end.

You know about the armor of God, but please don't forget! The belt of truth will give you confident protection all around by KNOWING who your God is, and what He promises in Christ. Train hard for battle by knowing the Word. The breastplate of righteousness causes insecurity to vanish, so put it on in order to stand firm against the lies of the devil. When accusers come your way, or when the Accuser threatens to shake you and break you, wanting nothing more than to destroy your faith in God or convince you of unworthiness, scream back with full conviction that your God is greater still. 

"So when the devil throws your sins in your face and declares you deserve death and hell, tell him this: 'I admit that I deserve death and hell, what of it? For I know One who suffered and made satisfaction on my behalf. His name is JESUS CHRIST, Son of God, and where He is there I shall be also!'" (Martin Luther)

Scream that into your dark battlefield, or your pillow, if you need to.

Then put on the shoes that God gives you. They will make you ready with the gospel of PEACE. You will need the gospel of peace in your life, and your shoes will enable you to bring it to others too. You can run with those shoes wherever God takes you, and you can hold up your shield as you run. Your shield is your faith, and it will extinguish all the fiery javelins which the devil throws your way to burn you up. Hold it tight in one hand, and in the other hold your sword. This is the Word of God, your ultimate power-tool.

Also, God gives you a special helmet, Olivia. It's an exceptional gift no one can take away. That helmet is salvation, and someday it will be exchanged for a crown.

Sweetheart, you may fight hard and you may get weary. Maybe you will one day see your hollow eyes looking back at you in the mirror, or maybe they will be swollen from tears. When you feel like giving up the fight, when you feel all is lost, remember this: God is always with you, he gathers your tears in His bottle, and He wraps you in His care. Go to him for comfort. Find your strength in Him, day by day, moment by moment. He gives you Himself. Walk with Him.

There are so many things in my heart to share with you. The task of raising a human being is seemingly too great at times. If there is only one thing I could impart to you, it is this: Jesus Christ is where we find our hope, satisfaction, and eternal life! He is enough. Though I fail as a mother, and we fail as human beings, we are perfected sisters at the foot of the cross till the day we are glorified princesses in heaven together with God! That's how good God is to us!

He is the redeemer of life. Your story may be one of a warrior girl who has seen hardship and pain. You may come to the finish line, the end of the battle, all bloodied and broken. That's OK. It will be worth it.

Take heart! The victory is already won! Your story, then, no matter what, is already a story of victory!

Love you, baby doll.

Mom
xo