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“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned” (Isaiah 9:2). This poem is about light - how Jesus is the best and brightest Light, and how all other lights pale in comparison. Still, we are sometimes lured away from His light, lurking in the darkness and desiring other forms of “light”. May the glorious Light of Jesus captivate our hearts, minds and attention this Christmas season. May He light up every part of our lives, that we might shine His beauty among all peoples on earth. I’ll be sending out a few short reflections on Jesus as the Light in the coming weeks during this Advent season. I pray they bless you and point you to the “Bright Morning Star” (Revelation 22:16), the True reason for celebration and the Hope of the world. We’re all chasing light - A flicker, a flame. Blue light and limelight - Meaning is our aim. And we’re putting up Christmas lights Lighting the tree, Thinking that “light” is about what we see. But there is a Light Beyond what eyes perceive. He’s glorious and brilliant - We can “see” when we believe That to people in darkness He was born to bring Light. A star showing the way, Otherworldly and bright. And the angels lit the skies, Catching shepherds by surprise, They couldn’t help but cower And cover their eyes. This Light, full of splendor, Was like nothing they’d seen. The glory of heaven Left them down on their knees. All who heard were amazed - No one could describe This mystery in Bethlehem But they felt so alive. Hearts were burning, people worshiping, “Messiah is here!” They were struck by the notion That God could be so near. This Light of the world In the darkness of night Brought Hope to all people With His unmatched pure light. And in this world full of darkness It’s hard to remember That Jesus, our Light, Reigns both now and forever. And He’s not just “out there” - His Light burns within. He’s in us and with us His glow never grows dim. In fact, He’ll become brighter To us as we grow As we see Him and seek Him Then we’ll come to know That these lights we’re all chasing, These flickers and flames, Will all be extinguished Except this one Name Jesus, He’s the Light! He’s the Hope of the world - Worth all your attention, More precious than pearls. And one day at the end We’ll come face to face With the splendor of Jesus And He’ll light all our days. So turn your eyes upon Jesus, Look only at Him, When you gaze on His glory All else will grow dim.

"...give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:18 It was the first week of November when I saw them: gold and purple flowers sprinkling the sunlit path by the lake. And I may have gasped audibly at the sight - flowers in November?? In Minnesota?! I can hardly remember noticing such a thing before. (I looked it up - this is not highly unusual for more hearty flowers. But it caught me by surprise because to me, November in Minnesota basically equates to winter.) And I was bursting with joy at this sight, feeling grateful for the small things. Even more so because I’ve just been on a gratitude journey of sorts where I spent a season paying attention to all the wrong things, neglecting to give God thanks and wading in the waters of discontentment. I’ll give you the short version… It all started last November with a potential job opportunity at my kids’ school. This is it, I thought. This will solve all of my problems. I’ll be a better mom having some time away from my kids. We’ll get a discount at school. We’ll have a little extra cash, and life will be better and easier. Or so I thought… As it turns out, this seed of an idea grew into a weed - overtaking much more time and thought than it deserved. And as I read this quote from C.S. Lewis’ The Silver Chair a few weeks back, it echoed to me my own experience: (for context, “the Lady” represents the devil, and the children are on a grand adventure for Aslan, who represents Jesus. The Lady tells the children if they find this town called Harfang, their lives will improve greatly.) “...whatever the Lady had intended by telling them about Harfang, the actual effect on the children was a bad one. They could think about nothing but beds and baths and hot meals and how lovely it would be to be indoors. They never talked about Aslan…now …And though you might have expected that the idea of having a good time at Harfang would have made them more cheerful, it really made them more sorry for themselves and more grumpy and snappy with each other …” (92-93, emphasis mine). It’s as if C.S. Lewis was reading my mail. I can see it so clearly now - my joy dissipated as I ruminated over this prospect of working. I began to notice all the hard things about being at home (which wasn’t difficult to do), and this reinforced my “need” to make a change. As everything that was “wrong” with my life multiplied before my eyes, I started to believe this lie straight from the lips of the devil: If my circumstances change, so will my contentment. And this all happened gradually and subtly, discontentment discreetly infecting my heart and my mind. The grass was looking greener on the other side, somewhere other than where God had planted me (this is not a commentary on working out of the home vs. in the home, but rather obeying the voice of the Spirit as He calls each of us uniquely to our own motherhood journey). And as I stopped noticing the gifts of God and ceased thanking Him for the beautiful parts of being home with my children, I stopped finding them. Here’s what I’ve discovered to be true: what you focus on, you will find. This is both spiritual Truth and scientific fact (listen to Susie Larson’s interview with Dr. Lee Warren for the brain science on this. It’s wild.). What you notice will inevitably increase, simply because you are looking for it. I’ve experienced this in my life, and with the flowers in November. Once I noticed the flowers, I saw them everywhere! I couldn’t escape these floral graces - they seemed out of place in the fading world of fall. It was wild to me - how had I not seen them before? How had my eyes failed to observe something so lovely? Gratitude starts with noticing, and then it grows from there. Gratitude is like these glasses, these lenses that God lends to us, allowing us to see all He has provided. We have to choose to put on the glasses, to see life in a new way, paying attention to the gifts. The more you give thanks for the gifts…the more you notice the gifts. You offer gratitude to the Giver…and suddenly, you can’t believe all that He is providing. You see flowers everywhere - the blessings and abundance and goodness of God blossoming before you. The third week of November, we went to a flower arranging class - my mom, sister and me. And it was this little piece of Paradise, the fragrance that enveloped us when we walked in the door. There were hundreds of flowers of every color and kind, and I wondered, Will heaven be something like this? I chose these pretty purple and pink blooms, as per my daughter’s request. And isn’t that sort of what God does for us? I imagine the hand of God picking out flowers from heaven and delivering them down to earth, to each of us. He knows your name and your address. He knows the exact flowers, the gifts that you need at exactly the right time. He sends flowers on the good days and in the hard seasons - the valleys of life. He’s handpicking flowers, choosing them specifically and personally for each of us. We so often believe that if we can somehow skirt our circumstances, contentment will follow. But in the upside down, right-side up way of our All-Knowing King, gratitude (not ease or comfort or prosperity or success) is the route to contentment, the means by which we will experience the joy that God so longs to give us. Gratitude protects us from our own demise by discontentment , allowing us to receive and breathe in the goodness of God, the flowers that He so intentionally sends to us. This is not automatic. This is a practice, a daily decision. And it goes against our nature and our image-driven, instant gratification culture. We are going to have to swim upstream on this one - contending for contentment day after day, intentionally deciding that we will “give thanks in all circumstances - for this is God’s will for [us] in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). And so, I’ll spare you the details - I worked…and now I am back home. And so are my kids - I am homeschooling. I am treasuring my time at home more than I have in months, relishing in the fact that gratitude is coming easy. I know it won’t be this way forever - soon I’ll be back in the grind or the grass will be looking greener somewhere else. But I hope and pray I remember it then, this revelation that feels so fresh right now - Jesus is enough, and I have everything I need in Him. There is much to be grateful for. The grass may look greener over there, but there are flowers here, too. Just as my bouquet from the flower shop started to droop, my husband came home with a beautiful arrangement of fall flowers on our anniversary. There they were again: flowers in November. The flowers outside had since dried up, fainting in the cold, but God was still finding a way to deliver goodness as He always does. We may not see flowers in Minnesota again until May. But God has gifts in store for every season, and I’m convinced now more than ever: He’ll never stop sending us flowers.

She turns to look at me, shiny rainbow backpack in hand and a knowing grin gracing her face. “Mom, I have everything I need!” She’s steady and sure, with childlike confidence in her preparedness for the day ahead. “ I have everything I need.” And I can’t help but think of Psalm 23:1 - the very first line of this well-loved psalm that points us toward heart of the shepherd and His provision for us: “The Lord is my shepherd…” “I shall not want.” (KJV) “I have all that I need.” (NLT) “I don’t need a thing!” (MSG) “I lack nothing.” (NIV) Or in other words… “I have everything I need.” I rarely think this way. The lack in my life feels so loud, and my desires and “needs” consume my thoughts. I am comparing…craving…discontent. How can I have everything I need when there is so much I don’t have? And maybe that’s actually the point: we don't have it all. But we lack nothing because He is everything. Our lack leads us straight into the arms of the Shepherd. It’s where we find Him to be enough - MORE than enough. It’s where we experience Him as the Bread of Life who satisfies our hunger and the Living Water who quenches our constant thirst. In His love for us, He allows us to experience lack so that we will recognize how desperately we need Him. We so often miss out on the abundance that the Shepherd offers us because we are surviving with a scarcity mindset, focusing on shortcomings and insufficiencies in our lives. Our time, energy, money, relationships…they never feel like enough (and the list goes on). We are looking at that which we lack instead of locking eyes with the One who holds everything, who loves to provide exactly what we need at exactly the right time. She says it again that afternoon: “I have everything I need!” And this time, I’m the one smiling, thinking of my Good Shepherd and His more than sufficient provision. All the ways He’s loving me - turning my lack on its head and giving me what I truly need.

“The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” Matthew 26:41 “I’m struggling with anger,” I told my husband on our walk a few weeks back. Of course, he already knew. He’d seen it firsthand and been the one covering for my weakness, gentleness rising within him while I went off in a huff. But to verbalize this out loud felt freeing - to confess my utter lack of self control. “I don’t know what to do.” And I really didn’t - I’d been quick to speak and become angry, and slow to listen. I could fake it in the presence of other people, but alone at home with my kids...my flesh was showing its ugly face. My mind knew I was out of line, my heart felt convicted, but between the hormones and bad habits, any self control that I thought I possessed was proving to be non-existent. In certain seasons of motherhood, I so closely identify with Paul in Romans: “So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?” (Romans 7:21-24). The spirit is willing but the flesh is oh, so weak and volatile (Matthew 26:41). The very things I don’t want to do…I find myself doing them. The very mom I don’t want to be…I am often her to a tee : angry, short, impulsive, and impatient. And unfortunately this is not a rare occurrence - it’s no secret that I frequently need some serious help from the Spirit in the self control department. But here’s the hope for us: the fruit of the Spirit is not the fruit of the flesh. It comes from One who is outside of us, who dwells within us - and only His power can overcome the flesh and the sin and the sad state of our humanity apart from Jesus. Here’s what Paul says as he continues on in Romans 7-8: “Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!...Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death” (Romans 7:25, Romans 8:1). We cannot restrain ourselves or stand against temptation in our own strength. In our flesh, we will fail every time. We cannot fake the fruit of the Spirit. But if we stop feigning the fruit and start following Jesus more desperately, maybe the fruit will grow naturally from the True Source. And there’s more good news: the Spirit works not in our strength, but in our weakness - when we acknowledge our inability to live up to all that Jesus calls us to be, He comes in swift and strong, revealing Himself through us. It’s as God says to Paul in 2 Corinthians 12:9: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” When we admit we are weak and stop striving in our own strength, then we are actually strong because we are finally fully dependent on God. That is when the Spirit can fill us with His fullness, His fruit overflowing from our hearts. And so as we close out this series on the fruit of the Spirit, here’s what I’ve learned: all the love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control in our lives come only from Jesus - He is the Key and the King of all of these characteristics. They rise and fall together as we refuse self reliance and instead depend wholeheartedly on the Spirit. So may we keep in step with the Spirit this summer, submitting to His lead so that we do not gratify the desires of the flesh (Galatians 5:16-25). He is more than able to bring forth good fruit in our lives and mothering.

“…for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:30). Last Monday, I was spiraling (…again…) - one comment from a friend set my mind spinning, and before I knew it I had imagined all the “what ifs” the next year of my life could hold. As the evening went on, I regurgitated the conversation over and over again in my head, reading too deeply into words that weren’t meant to be dissected. Fear began leaking from my heart out of my mouth as I snapped at my kids to get ready for bed. Instead of residing in God I resisted Him, guarding myself and bracing for impact. Anxiety was reigning, ransacking my rational brain and my belief in the goodness of the King. And as I tightened my grip, gentleness fled the scene. I didn’t come to my gentle and lowly Jesus, but rather, I asserted my “independence,” thinking I was a picture of “strength,” all while protecting myself and pushing my kids away. And here’s where Philippians 4 stopped me in my tracks: “Let your gentleness be evident to all.” How in the world was I supposed to do that? Evident to ALL ? Gentleness is most certainly not the first reaction of my flesh, and in that particular moment it was the last quality that would describe me. It’s Paul’s next statement that struck me: “The LORD is near.” That’s it - the key. The Lord is near. When I believe in the Lord’s nearness - that He’s actually here with me - then gentleness can bubble up, spilling over onto those surrounding me. Why? Because when I acknowledge His presence, then I can rest in Him. I can stop feigning independence and strength, and start depending on the Source of it all. Conversely, when I forget His proximity, gentleness vacates the premises because I’m left to my own devices, fears and fleshly reactions. I’m finding it to be unavoidably true: the only way we can walk in gentleness is by acknowledging the powerful Presence of our gentle and lowly King. It’s a total paradox, the gentleness of our great and Almighty God. This is what God tells us about Himself in Isaiah: “Thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: ‘I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite’” (Isaiah 57:15). It’s incredible: God is the MOST powerful and yet His power is under complete control. He exemplifies all-encompassing strength and absolute gentleness. This is how we witness the gentleness of God: He often speaks in a whisper. He favors the humble and lowly, dwelling with them. He came as a BABY. It startles me to actually stop and consider the scandal of it all: the Creator of the cosmos came as a baby. Our God is high and holy and yet…gentle and lowly. Powerful, yet not harsh. He does not lash out in random rage or use force in unnecessary ways. And His meekness is not weakness. The coming of Jesus confirms it to our questioning minds and hearts: “When Jesus showed up seven hundred years after Isaiah prophesied and revealed his deepest heart as ‘gentle and lowly,’ he was proving once and for all that gentle lowliness is indeed where God loves to dwell. It is what he does. It is who he is” (Ortlund, Gentle and Lowly, 162). This is what Jesus articulates in Matthew 11:28-30: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30). This is the one place in Scripture where Jesus tells us about His heart. He doesn’t say he is perfect in heart, or good, or holy…. He calls himself gentle. Author Dane Ortlund describes it this way in his beautiful book Gentle and Lowly: “Gentleness and lowliness of heart is who Christ is steadily, consistently, everlastingly, when all loveliness in us has withered” (Gentle and Lowly, 197). Despite our unloveliness in our stress, weaknesses and mess, Jesus never fails to meets us in His gentleness, and He continually calls us to Himself. How do we, as women of God, respond to and emulate the gentleness of Jesus? In this world where we are called to a standard of perfection, productivity, external beauty, independence, and power, how are we to embody the fruit of the spirit of gentleness? We allow ourselves to be fed and led by Jesus. He is our Good Shepherd, leading us gently along (especially those of us who are mothers, as we read in Isaiah 40:11). He will parent us, sustain us, and satisfy us when we follow after him. When we are fed and led by Jesus. our hearts can finally find rest, and His gentleness will exude from our very beings. When we come under His care, we can let go of control and stop carrying the yoke of this world. We can release our plans and all that we hold in our hands, yielding our lives and identities to Jesus. And as we do this, Jesus will make us beautiful: “Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.” (1 Peter 3:3-4, emphasis mine). Our spirits are so often loud, anxious, divided, or clamoring for attention. It almost feels like they have to be, in this wild world in which we dwell. But, the more closely we follow Jesus, the more quiet and gentle our inner selves will become. The woman with a gentle and quiet spirit trusts wholeheartedly that Jesus has her best interests in mind. She is willing to sit in the passenger seat rather than in the driver's seat. She is secure and settled as a daughter of the King, and she submits her strength to God and her life to His authority. And the funny thing? In this upside down way of our God, there is great strength in gentleness. We read these wise words in the book of Proverbs: “…a gentle tongue can break a bone,” (Proverbs 25:15) and, “A gentle answer turns away wrath” (Proverbs 15:1). We will actually find that our gentleness will enable the Holy Spirit to do the work that He needs to do. That when we stop storming around in our “strength” and instead speak and respond with a spirit of gentleness, He will bring the conviction, the power, and the transformation that only He can. May we stay close to Jesus this week, acknowledging that He is near and allowing ourselves to be fed and led by Him.

"His faithfulness continues through all generations" (Psalm 100:5). I’m learning it in real time: God’s faithfulness often looks different than I think it will. From my limited, earthly perspective, circumstances are not panning out how I imagined. The colors God is using to weave the tapestry of my life are not what I would’ve chosen, not my favorites. The design is still looking chaotic and unfinished. There are loose ends dangling, strands that don’t feel like they will ever be tied up. The final product remains unclear. In this life, I’m often left wondering when or how God will come through - which sometimes turns into wondering if He will at all. The wilderness can begin to feel like my permanent residence as I doubt that God will “make a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland” (Isaiah 43:19). And as I forget God’s faithfulness - the fact that He is always holding onto me and carrying me through - I start to lose hope, failing to see a way through the wasteland in front of me. But here’s what is True: God keeps His promises and holds His people. We read in His Word: “If we are faithless, He remains faithful…” (2 Timothy 2:13). “His faithfulness continues through all generations” (Psalm 100:5). “His faithfulness stretches to the skies” (Psalm 36:5). “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ” (2 Corinthians 1:20). “...his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart” (Psalm 91:4). “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). In other words: His faithfulness continues through family lines and failures. His faithfulness lies outside of our small human understanding. His record is flawless. He will always fulfill what He says He will. He is faithful to be our Refuge in the midst of life’s struggles. His faithfulness does not depend on us - He is the dependable One who never changes. This is the God who made a covenant with Abraham and put all the weight of it on himself (Genesis 15). He’s the fourth man in the fire, showing up to save His people in the most desperate of times (Daniel 3). He may fail to meet our earthly expectations, but He will never fail to come through on behalf of those who follow Him. Although we can only see the underside, the unfinished product, He is weaving together His story and all of history into the most beautiful tapestry possible. And then, there’s us…. Like the disciples crying out in the storm, we often have such little faith in His faithfulness (Mark 4). Our “trust” runs out quickly when we catch a glimpse of the waves and begin to question what comes next. We often fail to be faithful when it comes to following Jesus, fumbling into sin and falling in love with lesser things. But there He is - always forging the way forward. The God who made a way through the Red Sea is always making a way through the waves. While we plod along, He is keeping promises and providing, unveiling His perfect plan. His faithfulness does not mean that life will not be hard. It means that in fire and storms and raging rivers, He will be with us (Isaiah 43:2) - He will never forsake His people. He will feed our souls even when our flesh suffers or our fragile circumstances crumble (Psalm 73:24-28). He’s the expert Potter, forming us in His faithfulness - turning the wheel and sanctifying us with precision and proficiency that we can trust. And in the end, He will win - victory rests with our King who is called “Faithful and True” (Revelation 19:11). And here’s the most amazing part…we have only seen a glimpse of His faithfulness. One day we will see the tapestry He has woven and understand all that He has really done. We will comprehend all that He has orchestrated in our lives and protected us from; the miracles He has performed under the radar. We will learn about the prayers that He answered and the promises He kept. And then - how we will worship! Because while we’ve been wandering and wondering, He’s been making a way and weaving something more wonderful than we could’ve ever imagined. One day we will hear it from His lips: “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:23). And although we have failed to be faithful time and time again, in His faithfulness He will usher us into fullness of life with Him forever. (I was inspired by this poem by Corrie Ten Boom while writing this post)

“Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalm 23:6 “God, you’re so good. God, you’re so good. God, you’re so good, you're so good to me.” I hear my youngest daughter singing it to her babies, putting them down for “naps.” And I’m holding back tears because this has been the soundtrack of the little years - I’ve sung this chorus to my girls thousands of times since my oldest daughter was born more than six years ago. And I want more than anything for my girls to know that God is good: for them to believe it and feel it and know it in the depths of their bones. I want them to “taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8). I want God’s goodness to be the theme song of their lives. Even as I’ve sung about it daily, I’ve struggled at times to cling to God’s goodness. As human beings, our definitions of what is “good” often differ from God’s. We tend to rank things in worldly ways, fixing our eyes on gold and glory and worldly gains. We misunderstand and often misquote Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works together for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” We assume that “good” here refers to an easy, comfortable and predictable life - that our expectations will be met and the story of our actual lives will align with our dreams. This leaves us reeling when the “good” that God has for us comes through suffering, discomfort, unmet expectations and more - hard and holy things that form His goodness in us. God’s goodness often looks like what we need instead of what we want. It involves God giving us the good gifts of His presence, His rest, and His Truth in the midst of less than ideal circumstances. It looks like Him forming us into His image, forging the Spirit of goodness in us - whatever it takes. Suffering leads to sanctification, pain leads to purity, battles lead to inner beauty. In His goodness, God is more concerned with our character than our comfort. He is more concerned with our spiritual thriving than our physical well being. The eternal always trumps the temporal when it comes to the goodness of God. Even as we misunderstand God’s goodness, it continues to chase us (Psalm 23:6). From the Garden of Eden to Golgotha, from the resurrection until He comes again, God has been good and He will continue to be so. He is good in His nature, and He is good to His children personally. His goodness is like gravity - it is inevitable that it will fall on those who follow Him. As we anticipate Easter, may we receive the goodness that God offers to us in all of its forms (the Cross of Christ and all the crosses that we are called to carry), and may His goodness glow through our lowly lives to a watching and wounded world.

“But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things that we have done, but because of His mercy” (Titus 3:4-5). It was the kindest deed ever done to us by a human being , this radically low rent price offered to us by our landlord, Bryan. In a season of living month to month, our landlord was extravagantly generous to us (I believe because the Lord moved his heart and hands to do so), offering us a preposterously cheap price on his property. And it wasn’t just “nice” of him to do this. Nice would’ve been dropping the price by a couple hundred dollars, or offering to mow our lawn for us (which he also did). But instead, he slashed the price and in doing so incurred a cost. He could’ve rented that house out for double what we paid him. It was selfless and sacrificial - a truly miraculous act of kindness. There’s a difference between “nice” and “kind.” Nice is easy, cheap and superficial. It’s “Minnesota nice” - friendly at surface level (there are a lot of great Minnesotans out there, by the way 😉). On the other hand, kindness is costly - sacrificial in the deepest of ways, cutting straight to the heart. It will cost us time, energy, resources, comfort, relationships, and our pride. And as limited human beings, we feel this cost deeply. Jesus paid it all - the highest price, the full cost of kindness. The cross was the costliest act of kindness ever performed - nothing could compare. Our King of kings is the King of kindness - giving up His only Son for the sake of us all. “But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things that we have done, but because of His mercy” (Titus 3:4-5). We cannot even begin to understand the kind heart of the Father towards us. Kindness comes naturally to him - Dane Ortlund puts it this way in his book Gentle and Lowly: “…picture a damned-up river, pent up, engorged, ready to burst forth - that is the kindness in the heart of Christ” (207). He delights in showing His children His immeasurable kindness. He directs his kindnesses toward each one of us personally, like arrows aimed at our hearts, handpicking his kindnesses towards us. And furthermore, he wants to show us this kindness forever - into eternity! In Ephesians 2:6-7 we read, “And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.” In all his kindness towards us, Jesus carries our burdens and desires to walk with us through the challenges we face. Dane Ortlund explains: “The Greek word for kindness means a desire to do what is in your power to prevent discomfort in another. It’s the same word used in Matthew 11:30 where Jesus says ‘my yoke is easy.’ His yoke is kind” (210). When we come to Jesus and stop resisting his kindness, he sustains us - carrying us and our load and lavishing love on us. But what keeps us from receiving the fullness of God’s kindness, or even missing it altogether? I believe that in order to receive God’s kindness, we must have a soft and tender heart. We live in this age of calloused hearts - bitterness, brokenness, hurt and pain have hardened us. We must seek to keep our hearts soft in the midst of it all. How do we do this - how do we keep our hearts soft so that we can experience God’s kindness for ourselves? 1. We come to Him , as He invites us to do in Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest…” He wants to speak to us and show us His kindness. We must give him our time and our attention in order for Him to do so. 2. We repent , for “God’s kindness is intended to lead us to repentance” (Romans 2:4). His kindness is not a license to sin but rather an invitation to realign ourselves with the Spirit and receive His forgiveness. We come to Jesus with repentant hearts so that He can refresh us and bless us and keep our hearts tender. 3. We count God’s kindnesses towards us - not downplaying them but rejoicing in gratitude over each big and small kindness we receive, starting with the cross of Christ. We give God the credit, counting God’s kindnesses out loud in front of our children. This quote rings in my ears frequently: “Two women looked out of prison bars; one saw mud, the other saw stars.” We find the stars and follow them with our eyes and count the kindnesses of God toward us over and over again. 4. We are kind to ourselves , having compassion on ourselves and thinking true thoughts about ourselves - thoughts aligned with the Word of God. We don’t live as though we are unlimited beings - we live within our limits and give ourselves grace on the hard days. When our hearts are soft they are like a sponge, able to soak in the abundant ocean of the kindness of Jesus and then squeeze it out onto others. We will be filled to overflowing again and again as we allow His kindness to flow onto us and then through us to our families and into this world. The world would be a divinely different place if we all received for ourselves the kindness of Jesus that He is ever extending to us. We just need to reach out our hands, reject the lies of the enemy and the world (which tell us that God is not kind) and receive His kindness for ourselves. God’s kindness is immeasurable and it is eternal and it is for you. “In the coming age we will descend ever deeper into God’s grace in kindness, into his very heart, and the more we understand of it, the more we will see it to be beyond understanding. It is immeasurable” (Ortlund, 212). May you experience the beauty of His kindness towards you in the week ahead.

“We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and shield. In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name.” Psalm 33:20-21 I was walking around a little lake by our house last Thursday when it hit me: this insatiable desire for spring. It was a warm day for January - twenty four degrees above the average high temperature - and as the sun settled on my skin so did this deep discontentment settle in my heart. The devastating reality is that spring is still months away. The Thursday thawing was a tease, the ground refroze in no time and they’re calling for snow tomorrow. My walk in the sun left me crying on the inside, desperate for spring to come - and I cannot deny that these Minnesota winters have brought me to real stinging tears before. The winter seizes me in this state of impatience, as motherhood often does, where I cease to believe that God is moving even when I can’t see it; that He brings good things even out of these dreaded months of the year and seasons of my life; and that no season is ever too long or too short because all of time rests in His hands. In these times of unwanted waiting, I find myself wandering into doubt, discontentment, and daydreaming of a “better” season. I start preempting what I think God has for me next and writhing when I have to wait. I refuse to remain where God has me - like when I left my hat at home on said walk, pretending it was spring instead of planting my feet where they actually were (I froze my ears off). Often I wait in hostility - feeling hurried, worried that life is passing me by, and putting hope in my circumstances instead of in my Risen King. I grow bitter and resentful as I carry the weight of waiting on my own instead of offering it to Jesus. Why do I do this? Why do I cling so tightly to my timelines and grasp at my plans? I forget what’s True: He holds me, the universe, and all of time in His hands. He’s never in a rush, He’s never late or panicked. With Him, “a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day” (2 Peter 3:8) - His concept of time is altogether otherworldly. There’s a much better way to walk this marathon of motherhood and all things in life: waiting on God, with God, and for God. Walking in patience, even when it’s painful. Waiting on Someone instead of something (because won’t we always be waiting on something this side of heaven?). There’s a shift we must make here: throwing the weight of our waiting and worries on Him, and lifting our eyes from the earthly to the eternal. We take the psalmist’s words to heart: "I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord" (Psalm 27:13-14). We wait in hope, trusting the God will take care of us and has good things in store. We wait with endurance and perseverance, pressing on and pressing into Jesus even when the waiting feels endless. This type of waiting is not for the faint of heart. It requires great strength to wait like Psalm 130:5-6 describes: “I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning.” Let’s be “watchwomen,” waiting for Him who is our only Hope and allowing our impatience to drive us into the Word and into His arms. As we moan and groan, waiting for better things to come, all of creation is right there with us (Romans 8:22), waiting for the restoration of all things. One day, the beauty of spring will replace the wasteland of winter, and all things will be made new (Narnia, anyone?). There will be no more tears or mourning or death or pain (Revelation 21:4). We won’t feel impatient anymore, but rather completely and deeply satisfied - and God will dwell in our midst forever (Revelation 21:3). But for now, we wait in this “now but not yet” between the resurrection and Christ’s return. Our waiting is not in vain - Jesus is “the One who was and is and is to come” (Revelation 4:8), and He will fulfill all of His promises to His people. The best is yet to come - He tells us He is “coming soon,” and we plead along with John: “Come, Lord Jesus” (please, hurry!) (Revelation 22).

“Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times in every way.” 2 Thessalonians 3:16 Aren’t we all craving peace these days? We’re desperate - we know we are hurry-sick and worried sick, and we are all trying to curate a cure with our own hands. We’re tired of barreling through life, battling anxiety and crippling fear, and barely breathing through it all. It’s almost too much to bear. We know two things: something needs to change. And, peace is priceless. But we’re fooled, thinking peace can be cultivated through pointed practices and preaching to ourselves. Believing mindfulness is the answer or that we can buy our way to perfect peace. We’re feigning peace and finding temporary solutions when we’re really in pieces: fretful and fragmented. I’ve been there too - looking for peace in many places. I’ve looked along the path of least resistance, duped into believing that ease is synonymous with peace. I dropped a class in the beginning of almost every semester of college, thinking my light load would carry me to a peace-filled existence. As it turns out, I was left feeling bored for much of those years of my life. I’ve looked for peace in prosperity, in pleasure, in productivity, and applause. I’ve run to places and things and people, but as it turns out, Peace is a proper noun, a Person, and His name is Jesus. He is the Prince of Peace - He’s the only One who holds the keys to peace, and there’s no point in looking elsewhere. We’re missing it, missing the piece of the puzzle who is Peace Himself. We’re homesick for Jesus and it shows in our shaky and unsettled souls. Our aching hearts are laid bare before Him, this Prince of Peace, and He aches for us to experience the goodness of His peace. He offers us the only cure to our crisis: Himself. His hands open wide on the cross, His body broken for you and blood spilled - He was pierced to bring us peace and to bind up all of our broken places. He pieces us back together - providing the peace we longed for all along. And this peace is all-encompassing. It’s not partial peace or situational peace. It’s shalom (the Hebrew word for peace) - wholeness in every way: body, mind and spirit. Relational peace, with God and people. Flourishing and fullness of life, the way things God intended them to be. THIS is the peace God has in store for us if we would stop our striving and come to Him instead. We are meant to find our home in Jehovah Shalom - the God of Peace Himself. Peace is our privilege as children of God, our portion as those who call on the Prince of Peace. We cannot purchase it or earn it - He grants it to those who follow Him: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you” (John 14:27). His peace “transcends all understanding,” protecting our hearts and minds (Philippians 4:7). His peace is perfect, sustaining those who humbly trust in God (Isaiah 26:3). His peace can even circumvent our circumstances - we can experience peace in discomfort and poverty and pain and suffering and less than ideal situations because “the Lord is near” (Philippians 4:5). This is not a worldly peace but an altogether otherworldly gift of peace straight from the hands of God. It’s the New Year, and we’re all full of hopes and dreams. Maybe this will be the year… And we’re plotting out the year ahead and placing our hope into our own hands, thinking that we’ll find true peace in our plans. If only ________, then I’ll be happy and peace will be my prize. I’ll finally be fulfilled. I’ll never need anything again. And isn’t that just the way of humans - putting too much pressure on this world to satisfy? Searching for shalom in temporal places. How do we claim this peace that Jesus offers to us in 2025? How do we finally experience this peace that all of us so desperately long for? We stop our searching and start surrendering. We stop planning and plotting and start praying, inviting His presence into all that we do. We stop putting hope in our own hands and start opening our palms to receive peace from the only true Source of it. May this be the year we find shalom instead of success. May shalom settle on our homes this year, and in our hearts.

“Joy to the world; the Lord is come; Let Earth receive her King; Let ev'ry Heart prepare him room, And Heav'n and nature sing….” Where is the joy? Is it here, is it there? We’re seeking and searching - looking everywhere. Is it over the fence? Is it in the next season? Has she found true joy? What is the reason That joy feels so scarce - where did it go? It feels as though nobody knows. We’re worrying, hurrying, spending and tired. We’re wanting and hunting for joy in this mire. And we’re living this lie right in front of little eyes - That joy’s found in the world, Jesus isn’t our prize. Our attention has wandered, we’ve lost our first love, Our Savior, Messiah, this gift from above. We’re spending time filling our Amazon carts Instead of preparing Him room in our hearts. We don’t need more lights and we don’t need more cheer, We just need to acknowledge - Jesus is here! The Light of the World - our Father and friend, He’s the Good Shepherd - His love never ends. We go searching and chasing and seeking for naught - He’s all that we need and all we could want. He’s precious and priceless, He’s one of a kind, There’s no one like Jesus that you’ll ever find. He was sent as a baby, our God wrapped in skin, He lived and He died and then rose again. This is why we have joy - nothing else will come close. Our Mighty God, Jesus, He gave up the most. So let’s surrender our lives and release all our things, Receiving instead the King of all kings. May our kids see it’s true: it’s not about stuff! It’s all about Jesus - He’s more than enough. And may we be the most joy-filled of all - Not because of what we have but because we are called: We are His, we are whole, we are found and free We have life to the full and that’s more than we need. It’s the call of Christmas: to come and adore The only One worthy of bowing before He’s high and he’s holy and yet, He is near. Immanuel has come - we’ve nothing to fear. So turn your eyes upon Jesus, just focus on Him In the joy of His presence, all else will grow dim.

“I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure with all the fullness of God.” Ephesians 3:17-19 I collapsed onto the couch one Saturday night in October, realizing it had been a while since I’d prayed. The “prayer” that followed was basically a monologue - me presenting a laundry lists of requests, almost as if God is a vending machine (which He is not). I was sharing my concerns over my kids and lots of future things. All of the future things. When I finally finished my speech, I waited eagerly for a response (and I hoped it would be as specific as possible). And here’s what I heard (in a gentle and quiet whisper sort of way): “Oh, how I love you, Morgan.” It’s not at all what I thought He’d say. There I was, waiting for details and an action plan, and He told me that He loves me. And He called me by name. I couldn't stop crying as He continued to express His love towards me. He wanted to show me, speak to me and shower me with love and He wanted it to sink in all the way to the very depths of my being. I could hardly handle it. I think, for those of us who grew up in the church, we are so accustomed to hearing about how much God loves us. Some of us have heard it a million times, and so we shrug when we hear it. We “know” God loves us. We are in desperate need of a fresh revelation of God’s love for us. In our world today, we are weary, overstimulated, and spiritually malnourished. We are too busy, and yet simultaneously bored. We are not easily impressed, but we are itching for something more, something deeper than what’s been offered to us. We “know” a lot of things, but they often don’t make the long journey from our heads to our hearts. God desires so much more for us - He wants us to know His love in a real, experiential way so that it sinks into our very bones and beings. This is why He sends us the gift of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit “testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children,” (Romans 8:16) taking the love of the Father from our heads and pouring it out into our hearts (Romans 5:5). Dane Ortlund explains it this way in his book Gentle and Lowly (a BEAUTIFUL book): “It is one thing, as a child, to be told your father loves you. You believe him. You take him at his word. But it is another thing, unutterably more real, to be swept up in his embrace, to feel the warmth, to hear his beating heart within his chest, to instantly know the protective grip of his arms. It’s one thing to hear he loves you; it’s another thing to feel his love. This is the glorious work of the Spirit” (122). I’ve found it true, what Ortlund says: “We are factories of fresh resistances to Christ’s love” (Gentle and Lowly, 63). We come up with excuses why God couldn’t or shouldn’t love us. Shame and guilt hold us back from experiencing the depths of God’s love. We distract ourselves or fill our lives so that we have no time to sit with God and experience His love. We would never call ourselves, as John did, “the disciple whom Jesus love[s]” (John 13:23). This saddens our Father greatly. Our inability to receive God’s love and experience its fullness stunts our growth, keeps us from goodness, and limits our intimacy with God. Without intending to, we keep God at an arm’s length when we refuse to receive His love for us. On the contrary, something powerful happens when we know and understand (experientially, not just intellectually) how great the love of God is for us (on a personal level, not just universally). Paul asserts in Ephesians 3: “I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure with all the fullness of God” (v. 17-19). When we grasp the love of God for us, we will be “filled to the measure with all the fullness of God.” That means we will be so filled to overflowing with all that the Spirit has to offer us that there won’t be room for anything else - doubt, fear, wayward identities or sin. Being “filled to the measure with all the fullness of God” means that nothing unwanted can find its way in, and that the lies of the enemy will be forced out. How we need to grasp this inconceivable Love in greater measure! And we need to ask for His help in this - we need Him to reveal His love to us. We need Him to remind us of who He is. We need help to remember who we were and where we were heading before He intervened so that we can respond appropriately - like the woman who broke the alabaster jar at Jesus’ feet (Luke 7). We need Him to help us to stop resisting the love of God and start receiving it. Ephesians 3:17-19 is the passage I pray over my children every night. I believe it could change their lives (and all of our lives) if we were to more fully understand the love of the Father for us. I’m praying this passage over you today - may the Spirit make His love more real to you today, in the depths of your soul, as you seek Him.