Dear Norah

Dear Norah, 

Your first birthday is approaching and my heart is full of so many emotions. I'm learning what it means to disciple you, to train you and teach you how to live. There are so many things that I long for you to know, but you're not ready just yet. I've lost too many valuable things over the years to trust writing you a letter, so maybe the internet will endure long enough for you to read this when you're a little older, when you may need these words. 

First of all, you are the most magnificent thing that has ever happened to your dad and me, apart from being adopted by the God of the universe. When you were born, we fell in love with you instantly (I'm sure by now you've heard these stories millions of times). I've never known a more immense love that immediate- it's like nothing I could have ever imagined and I've realized that loving you like this is another glory of the Lord's that I have been able to experience, graciously. By the time you are able to read this, I pray that He has captured your heart and revealed His glory to you, too.

Anyway, here are a few little moments and thoughts that I have saved up in my heart day in and day out with you that I hope you can treasure, too. 

You're interested in everything. I love the wonder that you carry with you always, even if it means that you leave a huge mess behind you everywhere you go. I left the bottom drawer in the bathroom not baby-proofed so that while I get ready in the mornings, you can pull out my small bags and a few other things to entertain yourself. You have a spot like that in almost every room- a place where you explore, pulling out each object and quickly examining it before throwing it on the floor and moving on to the next one. But there has never been a time when you weren't prepared to leave whatever you were doing at a moment's notice to come with me. I simply say "come on," clap my hands together and hold them out. You drop whatever is in your hands and reach for me without any hesitation whatsoever. You don't care where we are going or what we're doing, you're just sure that it'll be better than anything else you have going on because you'll be with me. You simply love my nearness. Norah, I pray that you hold onto this concept forever; not that you will never want to leave my side, but that as you mature and grow, you will find Jesus to be worthy of that kind of devotion- a deep, instinctive love and desire to be with Him no matter where He takes you or what you have to give up to be with Him because you know that being with Him is the whole point of this life, and the most magnificent reality you could ever ask for.

While you and I are extremely close these days, you are quite the Daddy's girl. When we came home from the hospital, you were still a couple of weeks early. We were told to give you lots of skin-to-skin time to help you develop well.  Your dad had no problem holding you for hours and you so enjoyed snuggling into his warmth. 

It's not unusual for you to sit at the door after he leaves for work and wave long after he's gone, as if you're expecting him to come back. Today, you weren't feeling well and started crying for him. I gave you his picture to appease you and you kissed it over and over. It amazes me how much you love him already, but I can see why. Your Dad has proven his love to you, time after time. Unlike a lot of dads, he gets up in the middle of the night with you- sometimes to serve me when I'm over-exhausted, but sometimes because he wants those middle-of-the-night snuggles with you. He holds you and soothes you when you're sick and when you have to get shots (because I cry too and haven't been very strong for you). He enjoys helping to put you to bed when he can, and to bathe you and feed you. He delights in nourishing your soul already and goes out of his way to try to show you new things that he thinks will bring you joy. He takes care of you. He sacrifices his own comforts for your good. He pays attention to your likes and dislikes and helps you grow. He is your safe place. You've learned that you can trust him. Norah, don't ever consider giving your heart to a man who doesn't love you like your daddy loves you. Because if he can't love you like your daddy does, how will he ever love you like Jesus does? You are so valuable, my daughter, and I can't express how important it is to choose wisely when it comes to who you entrust your heart to. (If you're still unsure, don't worry. No man will get too close to your heart without your dad's permission, and mine.)

It's safe to say that we've bonded, you and I. From the moment that my horrible 30-some hour labor ended and your glorious little body was placed on mine, I've had a hard time letting you out of my sight. Who knows what birthing centers or hospitals will be like when your generation starts having babies, but right now, mommas get very little rest in hospitals. Neither your dad nor I slept for more than an hour or so at the time during our entire stay; our door was a revolving one with doctors, nurses, specialists, family, etc. So when it was time for you to go to the nursery for a few hours overnight for some testing, we were too exhausted to not be a little thrilled at the thought of sleep. The nurse said she'd have you back in time to nurse again at 2 AM, so we snoozed. Somehow, even through the exhaustion, I came back to consciousness around 2:15 and panicked... my baby was supposed to be back at 2:00! My swollen, achy body slowly stretched up and off the bed. I wrapped my robe around my pale pink over-sized hospital gown that tied in the back and began treading down the hallway with my lovely grey hospital socks slouched down to my ankles. Needless to say, I was quite the sight at the nurses' desk frantically wanting to know where my baby was. You were sleeping. Those poor nurses just wanted to give me more rest. 

Norah, I'm having to learn that while it is my responsibility and natural desire to do everything in my power to protect you, I have to submit to our Father daily and remember that you are His before you are mine. There is nothing and no one in this world that you have complete control over, nor should you. I pray that you always, always put your trust in this God who sees you, who hears you, who knows you because He formed you and purposed your life. He can protect you far better than a pitiful, sore & swollen momma bear ever can- and far better than you ever can. He is worthy of your life and you can trust Him with it. As C.S. Lewis said, "He's not safe, but He's good." 

Lastly, we really hope you take pride in your name, Norah Elizabeth. 

Norah means "light" and "honor." You already bring joy wherever you go. We get stopped in public all the time- people tell us how much you have brightened up their days by smiling and waving at them at such a young age. A stranger felt the need to stop me once and tell me that there is something unique about you-that you seem to have this glow all around you. I just smiled, little light. I believe God is already preparing you to spread His light into the world in an undeniable way. 

Honor means "high respect, esteem." Not only do I plan to raise you to treat all people with honor, but I pray that your life is consistently found worthy of honor, as well. My prayer is that your love for what is good, your joy and security in the Lord, and your awareness of your unwavering identity will develop you to be the kind of woman that draws out honor from even the crudest of people. 

Elizabeth means "My God is sufficient." And He is, Norah Elizabeth. I trust that He will show you exactly what this means in the days to come.

You could not be more cherished or loved.

Happy 1st Birthday, sweet girl. We are still so amazed that God chose us to be your mommy and daddy.

The Weary and The Worthy

When graduating college, I knew I had to find a job, but my heart was in ministry. I knew that if nighttime Bible studies and being a light at work during the day was what I had, that I would try to do it joyfully. But my heart was in ministry, the full-time, all-in, heart-and-soul kind. 

I'm so thankful for the opportunities that I had right out of college. I worked for great establishments and met amazing people, but when my husband became a youth pastor at the church that I immediately fell in love with, my heart ached to be more available.  I will never be able to express how grateful I am for our church and for God pressing it on the hearts of its people to hire us. My husband was freed up to invest 100% of himself for the first time ever into the lives of students and in doing so, I got to watch him come alive in a whole new way. I absolutely loved the times that I had with the girls in our youth group. The joy I received in watching them learn, bond together, and mature as women of God sent my soul on such a high that carried me through all the lows of those early seasons. And yet, when they were all away at camp or on mission trips during the summer while I was clocking in 9-5, I found my heart so heavy with longing to be with them that tears inevitably came.

I didn't have a lot of expectations about being a stay-at-home mom. While it has always been the desire of my heart, I wasn't sure we would be able to cut it financially and only made the decision when Norah came unexpectedly over three weeks early. Once she was here, the decision was an easy one for both of us and the excitement of more availability of our family as a ministry unit was tremendous. 

Motherhood does funny things to a woman. Tears in the midst of extreme exhaustion turn to laughter and joy at just one look at the tiny precious that God entrusted you with. I felt more purpose-fulfilled than ever in my life and yet, I sensed an undercurrent: the pang of unfulfillment. I couldn't understand exactly where it was coming from or why because I never regretted one day at home with my little light. I wasn't used to all of the tiny, seemingly insignificant things that add up to be a mommy's day of work, plus trying to have enough saved up to be an attentive, supportive, present wife at the end of the day. Planning Bible studies became much more difficult because "free time" was/is kind of a joke to me and when I got it, all I could think of was finding the source of that smell in my kitchen and getting the sticky stuff off of the floors and being hungry for time alone with God and really needing a nap! Whew! 

So I asked God to show me how to be faithful to Him in this capacity with these girls- how to make a disciple of an infant and how to make disciples with an infant (a very clingy one at that). Navigating through that still is not easy and looks like asking girls to hang out with me and my baby in hopes of meaningful conversation and quality time, although my attention is divided. It looks like doing everything I can to be as present as I can, whenever I can. It means caring about the moments I miss and asking to hear all about them because they matter. It means opening up my home for Bible study, even if I  can't fully partake because I have to spend half the time putting my daughter to bed. Thankfully, it means our whole family packing up and heading to a student's ball game without having to ask for time off because my little boss wants to be wherever I am. 

Tonight though, I'm worn out. I'm joyful and thankful and amazed at the work that the Lord is so clearly doing before my eyes. But coming off of a sleepless week, after a couple of days of trying so hard to be present while simultaneously being a mom of a 10-month-old (oh yeah, and pregnant), I'm spent. It's during these times that I wonder if I'm being effective at all, if my being there really matters.

I'm deeply grateful to know where the weary can go, so I went there. Unlovely but real scribbles on the lines of my journal page read:

"Lord, take over my life completely. Show me how to do this. Help me make the most of all that You've made me to be and help me to accept all of the things that You haven't made me to be, at least in this season."

And my Father, being the tender, loving Shepherd that He is, brought this to remembrance:

"And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, "Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on." -Mark 12:41-44

What I have to give is not the same as everyone else, but as long as I'm giving all that I have, what I have to give is enough. In fact, as Jesus teaches me here, I'm giving more of my heart to Him now when I feel stretched and drained than in previous seasons when I was able to give more of my time and abilities. Shouldn't I trust the heart of the One Who judges hearts and determines the seasons for the harvest?

Tonight, my exhaustion has turned from a frustrated discouragement to a beautiful offering that I can lay at the feet of the Father, knowing that because His Son gave His life for me, all I have to give will always be enough.

"Moreover, it is required of stewards that they be found faithful." -1 Corinthians 4:2

God of All (Even Bathrooms)

I'll admit, this HB2 issue has had me feeling all sorts of emotions and has tempted me towards fear and anger. My very first thought is of my daughter, who will be raised in a world that grows more and more strange to me and less and less... safe. I worried about her safety and her innocence and I have asked God to show me how to protect her body and mind and heart in the face of a world that values the desires of the individual with the voice above the safety of the vulnerable without one. I ache at the thought of my very dear friends who have been raped- will they surrender their rights to a public bathroom in order to try to recover from the living nightmare that they have experienced? I have become angry because I know that this issue goes far beyond the use of a bathroom, and yet the weak are caught in the crossfire.

And I'm realizing how easy we had it. We, American Christians. There are many places in the world where Christians have had absolutely no voice politically and no rights for many, many years. We now are entering an era where the most politically incorrect thing to do is to actually draw a line dividing right and wrong. It's an era where even self-proclaimed Christians, who would rather keep a false peace with the world than work with endurance for the true Peace, are publicly speaking against other Christians, pushing us away from the table and asking us to surrender our "outdated" and "ignorant" voices.

I know that I am just an emotional creature, not like the transcendent Creator, and I need help to see rightly.
Holy Spirit, help me see. Lead me into all truth. 

While there are so many things wrong about this issue, God's Word stands forever and He has made promises, all of which make even more sense in light of this.

"The king's heart is a stream of water in the hand of the LORD;

he turns it wherever he will.

Every way of a man is right in his own eyes,

but the LORD weighs the heart." 

(Proverbs 21:1-2)

God is greater than my voice and more powerful than any government- and yet, overthrowing our government is not on His agenda. Not yet, anyway. His kingdom is not of this world, after all (John 18:36). These issues have been filtered through the hand of God because they serve a greater purpose. They violently shake me, waking me from my sleep to the reality of spiritual warfare. They force me out of the comfortable, lukewarm grey and into the narrow black and white, where there are uncomfortable truths and I must face them head-on. I can't just float upstream and hope no one asks me where I stand and why. Lines are being drawn whether I'm the one drawing them or not.

I don't get to choose to only teach Norah the "pleasant" verses of the Bible because, as Scripture promises, persecution is coming. I can't hide in my comfort corner and try to ride it out because she will be living in the thick of it and it is my job to equip her so that when she faces the temptation to deny this Jesus, she will be able to stand. I can't be passive in my teaching her about biblical femininity because in the days to come, there will likely be no distinction between the unique and beautiful roles of men and women in families or in society. I won't have the option of trusting the culture of the Bible belt to show them the person of Jesus, which requires me to be all the more diligent in discipling them.

He gives grace to the humble and brings low the exalted. The world that my baby girl will grow up in will be strange and dark and different, but the God pursuing her heart is the same good, just, all-powerful God. I cannot expect or assume rights from a secular government when He promised hardships, persecution, and hatred from the world. I won't push away from the table, but I will render to Caesar what is Caesar's, namely, the access to a secure, public biologically-female-only bathroom. And what God gives is so much greater- lessons, challenges, a calling to get out of the ambiguous, passive shadows where truth holds no weight and step into the light, where there is contrast and definition and breath-taking colors that have all been created by God distinctly for His purposes and glory.

No, this world isn't "safe" and it never has been. The only One able to bring about "world peace" was killed by men who resigned to give the crowds what they wanted. But true Peace cannot be overcome by death and He came, not to reconcile the liberals and conservatives to one another, but mankind to God. When our eyes are on the greater picture, the giant pill is a little easier to swallow and the grainy image comes into focus. There are no revolutions or rights or bills that will bring about this kind of peace- corporately or individually. The empty ache and the restless angst will grow deeper and more intense with every passing day that the soul does not bow itself to the King of Kings, the Prince of Peace. And we, who know Him and have access to His heart, can't pretend that what we see isn't brokenness. We are faced with making the decision to let anger and fear win, or to surrender them to the Almighty as we ask for redemption and pray for His Kingdom to come.

"I sought the LORD, and he answered me

and delivered me from all my fears. 

Those who look to him are radiant, 

and their faces shall never be ashamed." 

(Psalm 34:4-5)