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Motherhood is neve dull…

Push play.

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Cincinnati will be hosting. More info here: https://www.facebook.com/events/678091095629529/

Add your IF:Pray gathering to the map to allow others to connect with other women in your local context. Go here: https://ifgathering.com/ifpray-map/

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Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. (America never was America to me.) Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed– Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above. (It never was America to me.) O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe. (There’s never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”) Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars? I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek– And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak. I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one’s own greed! I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean– Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today–O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years. Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That’s made America the land it has become. O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home– For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore, And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea, And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came To build a “homeland of the free.” The free? Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we’ve dreamed And all the songs we’ve sung And all the hopes we’ve held And all the flags we’ve hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay– Except the dream that’s almost dead today. O, let America be America again– The land that never has been yet– And yet must be–the land where every man is free. The land that’s mine–the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME– Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again. Sure, call me any ugly name you choose– The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives, We must take back our land again, America! O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath– America will be! Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain– All, all the stretch of these great green states– And make America again!

“Let America Be America Again,” Langston Hughes (via drmnola)

Timeless

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Independence Day Lament

For far too long I've followed patriotic Christianity, Trapped in suburban ghettos where comfort zones of complacency are my chains plagued by the American dream. Allegiance to King culture- overtaken by things, never stopping to realize that the land of the free was more for me. My sin of partiality blinding pain- But God' not American. Lord, forgive me!

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A Psalm of Reconciliation

Create in me a brave heart,

O God,

And remind me whose image I bear.

Uproot the lies of prejudice sown in ignorance;

Awaken an awareness of injustice once covered in darkness

For you are the LIGHT-

And in you there is no darkness at all.

Create in me a brave heart,

O God,

To see your presence in ALL of your children-

The beauty in diversity- your delight.

Create in me a brave heart,

O God-

For the branches of my heart have grown barren in complacency.

Spring forth repentance, tenderness, and compassion

Rooted in acknowledgement.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace-

That plays your song of freedom and love to those that don’t look like me.

Your desire for unity- make it my own!

The cost of reconciliation is blood-

The blood that bled red for all of us.

Since we are reconciled to you-

Let us now FIGHT to reconcile with one another.

Create in US (your Church), brave hearts

To confess, repent, mourn, lament;

To grieve, and weep, and tear our clothes

Of unrighteousness, pride, and hate.

May we not be like the 10-

Overwhelmed by giants

Our giants are racism, prejudice, favoritism.

May we have eyes to see it, mouths to name it, and hearts to condemn it;

May we be like Joshua and Caleb seeing promise and potential;

Through perspective moving forward in purpose-

May we NOT turn away from pressure in panic-

Paralyzed in fear.

Now is the time to be strong and courageous.

To offer an ear- not just a tongue;

To let our prayers move forward in action

Becoming reconcilers and bridge builders instead of burners.

To offer our hearts, confession, and forgiveness.

May the Moses to Joshua hand-off of our generation be marked by love.

Now is the time to be strong and very courageous!

To enter into hard, messy, uncomfortable, holy conversations,

That can help heal our land.

May we leave space for grief;

May our words be seasoned with grace;

May we not give the enemy an inch of the beautiful tapestry which is the BODY.

We will not grow weary in doing good.

Create in us a brave heart,

O God

To be FOR one another- until there’s no longer a “them” only us.

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Our logo! https://www.facebook.com/events/634678220010756/

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Nova exists to gather women in unity in order to form a key sisterhood that equips and unleashes each other to live out our calling in Christ. The symbol for Nova is a key.

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God promises to make something good out of the storms that bring devastation to your life. - Romans 8:28

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The real romantics know that stretchmarks are beauty marks and that different shaped women fit into the different shapes of men souls and that real romance is really sacrifice.

Ann Voskamp, The Real Truth about ‘Boring Men’ (via waltermeadows)

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As long as we try to find our significance and worth in ourselves, we will feel disappointed. Self-esteem only works if we have a self worth esteeming. I am so sinful and selfish that I don’t want to put my hope in myself. Understanding these two truths keeps me from building my hope in myself: 1. We are all lost and pretty messed up, and 2. God in His grace rescued us. As long as I am looking into myself for my identity, I will either be self-righteous about how great I am, which would be inaccurate, or distraught by the reality of the wreck I actually am. The gospel steals all self esteem.

Jennie Allen, Chase. (via breathe-lioness)

Yes!

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This lie ruled my heart for a decade. Pretending your pain/ emotions don't exist, will also catch up with you!

Charlie Sheen

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If a woman is held back, minimized, pushed down, or downplayed, she is not walking in the fullness God intended for her as his image bearer, as his ezer warrior. If we minimize our gifts, hush our voice, and stay small in a misguided attempt to fit a weak and culturally conditioned standard of femininity, we cannot give our brothers the partner they require in God’s mission for the world.

Sarah Bessey, Jesus Feminist: An Invitation to Revisit the Bible’s View of Women, Pg. 80

via: courtneybaileyparker

(via piperlr)

LOVED reading this book. I'm still praying and processing through some of the ideas, but so glad I picked it up even though it's not the traditional "evangelical mindset. " It's been refreshing stepping away from reading only "reformed evangelical" authors to get a broader picture of the many different flavors and beliefs of the global church. Thank you #IFGATHERING

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One needn’t identify as a feminist to participate in the redemptive movement of God for women in the world. The gospel is more than enough. Of course it is! But as long as I know how important maternal health is to Haiti’s future, and as long as I know that women are being abused and raped, as long as I know girls are being denied life itself through selective abortion, abandonment, and abuse, as long as brave little girls in Afghanistan are attacked with acid for the crime of going to school, and until being a Christian is synonymous with doing something about these things, you can also call me a feminist.

Sarah Bessey

My thoughts exactly

(via blakebaggott)

AMEN! I'm starting to embrace being a #JesusFeminist

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YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN

"I think nobody is forgotten. I think that in heaven’s economy nothing is wasted. And nothing is forgotten. And nothing is lost. And nothing is broken that won’t be healed. And no tear will not be wiped away. And that even if those things are part of the not yet of the Kingdom of God, that that is what we are moving towards. And that is what we are called to as the people of God. Are the people who are wiping tears. The people who are making things right. The people who are setting things right. The people who are planting gardens in exile. The people who are grabbing hands and looking people in the face and saying, “You are not forgotten, because I see you."" - Sarah Bessey

You are not forgotten.

I still don’t know how I totally feel about Sarah Bessey, but I thoroughly enjoyed this, and I think you should watch it.

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A Psalm of Courage

Create in me a brave heart,

O God,

And remind me who I am in You.

Remove the lies about not being enough;

Awaken the desires that have been dulled in the darkness.

For You are the LIGHT-

And in You there is no darkness at all.

Create in me a brave heart,

O God,

To see your presence in the mundane- 

In children fighting, in hugs;

In pain when You comfort;

In joy when You bless;

In heartache when You convict.

Create in me a brave heart,

O God-

For the branches of my heart have grown barren through this long winter.

Spring forth on my doubt leaves of belief rooted in your Word.

Your Light shines over the darkest of seasons and circumstances

And the darkness will never overcome me!

Create in me a heart that fears You, and You alone.

Help me to see my Father, my Savior and Friend,

Instead of worst-case scenarios.

Forgive me for my fear rooted in unbelief-

For a healthy fear of You, will make me BRAVE.

Create in me a courage’s heart,

O, God;

One that runs towards You and not away when life would be easier hiding.

Create in me a courageous heart,

O , God, for I was created to be FREE.

Free from the walls built around my callous heart.

Tear down each defense, brick, by brick-

Until I’m not just delivered, but FREE!

Free to laugh;

Free to sing;

Free to dance-

Free to be me, to live.

Forgive me from running away from who you created me to be.

My fate, my Jesus, lies within me,

I only have to be brave enough to see You.

For you know and You see me.

You are the Lord, my God.

You are a mighty Savior.

You rejoice over me with great gladness.

With your love, You will calm my fears.

Thank you for meeting me where I’m at

And doing something new.

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My Story

This is for my NOVA girls. It’s not the most eloquently written piece but is roughly what I shared at our gathering on 5/18/14:

Before I begin, I want to let you know that my story is very intimately joined with my husband’s story and we are at a place where we are ready to let the light shine on it because we believe that God can be greatly glorified through it. I love Aaron deeply and I’m so very proud of him for his bravery in allowing me to share his part, as it really is our story. Hear what I’m saying: what I’m about to share is in no way meant to demean, belittle, or gossip about my husband, but so that you can see the great work that God is doing in our lives.

 Let me start by saying that I always believed there was a God. I was raised Catholic and thought religion was a “good idea”, but never really explored it beyond that. I remember trying to talk to God, but He seemed so distant and far off.

 When I was a senior in high school, I met Aaron through a mutual friend. He invited me to church and I thought, “Why not?” I stepped into Rivertree Vineyard Church and was just in awe- up to this point I had never stepped into a church that wasn’t Catholic; I thought all “Christian” churches operated that way- formal and impersonal. You can imagine what a mind shift this was.

 I gradually started regularly attending church and a young adult Bible study and eventually made a decision for Christ. It was a slow change for me and I don’t have a “conversion date” but I can remember clearly the day when I started to call myself a Christian. Aaron and I were married when I was a senior in college and life seemed good.

 A week before our one year anniversary, I got a phone call from my SIL, her voice shaking, “There’s been an accident. We got a message that Aaron has been airlifted to Miami Valley Hospital. He’s alert and conscious.” Those were the only details the paramedics had given and when we called the hospital, which was an hour away, because of Hippa Laws, we weren’t told anything else. You can imagine the long drive to the hospital- the fear, panic, the pleading with God, even a moment or two of peace.  I really had no idea what I was walking into, but I remember crying out to God and praying, “Please Lord let him be ok, and if he isn’t, give me the strength to love him well.”

 It turned out that Aaron was involved in a head-on collision, which resulted in a broken hip that left him with metal screws and plates holding it in place along with a fairly long recovery period. We moved in with his parents so that he could be taken care of while I was working (I was in my first year of teaching) and thus the spiral of a “series of very unfortunate events” had begun.

 The next 4 years brought about many more painful events- the death of a brother; two grandparents; an aunt; and the murder of a friend. Of course there were happy moments- joyous, beautiful occasions like the birth of our first son, but even that was mixed with a failed birth plan and a cerebral palsy diagnosis. I honestly have no idea how I made it through all those years other than that God sustained me. I clung to the Lord, but my trust in Him started to grow sour. I had many doubts.

Along with this heartache, there was also a secret in our house that began with legitimate narcotics prescribed for Aaron’s pain. But eventually, the prescription became an addiction and for 8 out of the 10 years of our marriage, Aaron struggled with narcotic and a shorter season of alcohol addiction. He had seasons of sobriety and victory that were marked with great joy, hope, peace, and oneness, but also seasons of addiction marked by lying, anger, isolation, and loneliness. My life was very unpredictable and I would draw near to the Lord for a time, but then push Him aside and give up thinking, “What’s the point in praying? You don’t hear me. And if you do, you clearly are not making things easier.” Instead of asking God to change my own heart, I kept begging Him to change my circumstances. I began to self-protect from my husband, my friends, from God- even from myself- I no longer had desires, needs, or wants, I began to lose my voice, my purpose, my joy. If I didn’t allow my heart to know or be known, then I wouldn’t have to hurt, or be let down.

Flash forward to 2014. I begin to have this desire to really seek God-not just because He was useful, but because He was beautiful (all sparked by reading Ann Voskamp’s “Holy Experience” blog). I started to pray that God would give me a word for 2014- something that He wanted me to say to me, or something I could grow in…my resolution. ”Brave.”

The word “brave,” kept creeping into my mind, and ironically, I was immediately terrified. “Brave.” Hmmm. Not being able to shake it, I committed to it, and to seal the deal, I Instagrammed it the first week of January. “Ok God, show me how your perfect love casts out my fear.”

The IF Conference came and went, and the ladies were talking about purpose, calling, God-given gifts and I began to realize that I really had no idea who I am. I was a wife, a mom (to 3 young boys), a Christian, yes, but who was I? What made my heart race? What brought me joy? I began asking God these questions and just really realizing how much of my heart I had closed off.

This spring, I was fortunate to take part in a Redemption Group at Missio (my church) that again pressed into and brought out my serious self-protection sin problem. I was going to have to be brave, to dig deep, and admit how messy my heart was- how often I doubted God’s goodness and to admit that withdrawing from community and God was actually a sin. Calling it by name brought some freedom, many tears, and many moments of both crying out to God and wrestling with Him. Being honest, being brave, and it was the first time I’d gone there with God. It was the first step from moving out of survival mode into freedom.

So here I am, attempting to share my doubts, my struggles, to be brave enough to admit that I don’t have it altogether, but that there’s hope and the promise of grace and love. God has done an amazing work in my heart allowing me to see all the ways He has redeemed some of my past pain. He’s working in me to help me open up and let myself be known. My husband is walking in victory, pursuing Jesus. We are starting to build oneness in our marriage. Our walk isn’t perfect, but our Jesus is. I still struggle with running and hiding and self-protecting; it’s a daily struggle to choose to be open with my husband rather than to protect my heart. It would be way easier to just “move on.” “Get over it,” or pretend the past didn’t exist, but I truly believe that sharing our stories, especially the hard parts, will help others to find freedom. God is making me brave.

 Where am I now? “Courage isn’t always doing the big brave things. Courage seems most tested in doing the right small thing.” – Jennie Allen. Right this minute, I’m asking the Lord to help me to be brave in the day-to-day trenches of motherhood. The right “small things” that can add up to be big things in the hearts of my children. Loving them well. Putting their needs above my own- mothering is not for the faint of heart. I struggle each and every day to find joy in my children. I love them with the depth of my being, but the honest truth is that they exhaust me. Admitting that doesn’t mean that I’m not grateful for their lives, but it does allow me to cling to Jesus to fill in the gaps of all the areas I often fail them.

So, what about you? Will you be brave with me this summer? Will you push past the awkward and let yourself be known? It’s not going to happen overnight, and I’m not going to say it’s easy, “or natural,” but I will say it’s worth it. God sees you and knows you and your story more intimately than anyone. Your story matters.