31 Days of Story {Day 14} The Miracle of Story

1 John 4:10 New Living Translation (NLT)  

This is real love—not that we loved God, 

but that he loved us and sent his Son 

as a sacrifice to take away our sins.

What is your miracle story 

showing the story of His love today?

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Joining with Heather, Sandra, & Deidra and their beautiful weekend communities...

Look at the Birds

"They don't know it's not yet spring," I think to myself as I look out the window.

They are everywhere. These creatures of the air. In the trees. In the neighbors' yards. In my yard. Bobbing their heads up and down in search of food or branches or who knows really...They chatter loudly amongst themselves busying their little bodies with their important mission.

And somehow, I feel sorry for them. I know that winter is not truly over and they may have emerged in vain thinking their bleak winter season was done for the year. But I cannot pull my eyes away from them. I am drawn into their song, their work, their labor, their efforts, their freedom.

"Lord, what can I learn here?

Why am I drawn into this mesmerizing reverie?"

And my thoughts go to these words..HIS words....

“That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are?

Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?"

Matthew 6:25-26 {NLT}

The birds are not worried about whether winter is REALLY over or not. They are living in the moment, finding what they need for today, from a Heavenly Father who generously pours out His love, attention, care, and even affection on these little ones....


So why do I worry so much? I, who, Scripture says from the mouth of Jesus on earth no less, am "...far more valuable to him..."

I worry about my health.

I stew about the future.

I long for children, and I am terrified at the prospect all at the same time.

I want freedom with my time, but I brood that I will be wasteful of that gift.

I desire community, in my "back yard," and yet, the fear of rejection & pain paralyzes my forward momentum to that end.

Oh! The list could go on and on...I fear. Ha! I think I even worry ABOUT worrying. I know it is wrong. I know I need to trust. And how I struggle with that!

I go back to His words again....

"If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things,

but you know both God and how he works."

Matthew 6:30-32 {The Message}

Even as I write, I watch the snow beat down upon the these seemingly fragile sprouts, who have not fully realized their potential this year, and they, yet, stand firm, not withered or shaken by the unrelenting frozen flakes falling fast from the sky...

I look deeper into His heart here..."Don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you....YOU {who} Know both God and how he works."

I feel the challenge beating in my heart.

Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.

Matthew 6:33-34 {The Message}

So sing, little sparrow, fly on.

Bloom, precious hyacinth, let your colors show.

Your constant faith and trust in the One who created you reminds me that His relentless love for me knows no bounds, finds no limitations in circumstances...or weather, spans even the greatest of divides to bring healing and restoration to a heart who longs for Him.

Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow.

It empties today of its strength.

~Corrie Ten Boom~

The Joy Dare

1000 gifts in 2012

175) That the worst of the sickness did not hit us both at the same time

176) Grace from bosses as the flu continued

177) His faithfulness to sustain me even when my health fails

178) Cranberry ginger ale

179) A blessed nap -- b/c my body RARELY allows me to take one, even when I need it

180) Fresh sheets, blankets, pillow cases {I LOVE that!}

181) The delight of a stomach that works normally after 5 days of fighting the flu

182) A new monthly job {extra income! yay!}

183) The pretty hyacinth blooming on March 1st --> early spring

3 Green Gifts

184) That ugly old green camera bag that carries my DSLR friend

185) The green carpet -- reminds me of the other job that I truly enjoy

186) The pretty green buds poking through the soil

187) Mom's tan booties she left behind for me to wear

188) My army green jacket {one of my favs}

189) My fairly-new black sheer flowery dress/shirt

3 Hard-To-Give-Thanks-For Gifts

190) An empty womb

191) A chronically aching body

192) 4 months {and counting...} of waiting to move into our home

193) The way the fresh snow blanketed the earth for a few short hours

194) The beauty that my OLD zoom lens captures photos with the new camera brain

195) A Sunday evening "pizza run" with my sister

Won't you join me? Take The Joy Dare!

Here is a list of ideas to daily help you to SEE in the midst of the busy days...

Relentless Love :: The Wrap Up

Our Relentless Love journey has come to a close, at least here on the blog.

However the life lessons that I have learned will stay with me for awhile. I think that is how I have seen His relentless love the most across all of these stories....through the people themselves....through the way that they bravely shared of themselves by giving their words as a gift - to me and to you - in this space.

Through Kamille's story of finding complete abandonment with Jesus as a little girl as well as how she did not mind going first in this series with short notice I discover such childlike acceptance, kindness and grace. In Katy's heart I find a woman whose deep feeling produces a giving heart so big that even she does not even know the capacity she possesses as she shares about the God who sees. With Christina's words, I see a woman who knows her weaknesses well, but acknowledges a Savior who loves her in spite of them, because of them and openly shares her story with the world.

As Cara weaves her morsels sharing of His indelible love, ink turning into blood, transforming us, I see a woman whose very nature exudes a passion for, a desire to know Jesus better. Sarah recounts the psalms with the heart of a poet, and I am enraptured into this Jesus that she sees and knows so personally, so intimately, and I am drawn into the love affair of a God who never quits. Paige comes clean about the time where her desire to be right and the busyness of life caused her communication to be a sounding gong to the ears of her listener, and through the sharing, she teaches me that telling our stories, even the mistakes, even when it is hard, can bring a world of healing to those around us.

In Jen, I learn bravery, to step away from the only life she has known to a life where she had to step into her dreams, to trust that the Father's love was bigger than even the limits she has placed upon herself, and she inspires me to have faith in the God of innumerable possibilities who persistently pursues our hearts. As Jennifer shares the words of the Father to her, to us, to me, I am enraptured by His breathtaking love, His invitation to trust Him, and I want to BE that little girl again just holding Daddy's hand, climbing into His lap, twirling & dancing & laughing with my Father.

Annie's courage to tackle love in the face of grief showed me his healing power not only in her life, the life of readers across the globe, but also in my heart. To be a part of therapeutic breakthrough and encouraging another to share their REAL, RAW stories just shows me the connection of His relentless love in and through each of us. Anna's raw grit always challenges and spurs me forward. Her words about battle scars and crooked toenails share life in the cracks, through the hard, in the yes, buts. Her encouraging words to me through this writing project remind me of how we can impact another's life without even knowing about it. And, Holley's heart always blows me away and hearing her own journey of struggle and chasing after something to find love and acceptance shows me the wrestling of my own soul and where it can truly find rest.

It has been my pleasure to host each and every one of these ladies this month. I hope you have learned from them, their lives, their choices, their setbacks, their love for Jesus and more. If you have, would you let me know? And what spoke to you? I would love to know. It encourages me to know that you have been encouraged!

May your life be a continual pursuit of a deeper understanding of His Relentless Love .... for you!

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The Chase {Guest Post :: Holley}

It's the end of February and the Relentless Love series is winding down, and I am happy to share the final guest post writer with you -- my friend, Holley Gerth. I have said it before and I will say it again, Holley, besides my mom of course, is one of those people that I would like to be when I grow up. She is a published author, counselor, life coach, Dayspring card writer, co-founder of {in}courage, Squee! business entrepreneur, dream weaver {and builder}, lover of people far and wide and so much more. Oh and by the way...she's MY age!! I have looked up to her since the first words I read of hers on her website months ago. When we met at Relevant, imagine my delight when she carved out time for us to sit together and connect for a few hours. What a treasure! Holley makes her home in Arkansas with her sweetheart, Mark. Her blog home is Heart to Heart with Holley {I mean doesn't THAT name in and of itself just tell you WHO she is and why I think she is so fabulous?!?!?}

The Chase

I’m born into a home that believes.

I start a relationship with Jesus early.
I’m the good girl in high school.

But somewhere along the line,
I confuse relationship with rules.
I weary of the legalism and when college comes, I rebel.
I’m the prodigal daughter who talks at parties about missing God,
who mistakes affection for love, who tries to fill the hole inside her
with anything but the only thing that can.

I imagine God running from me.
But instead, in that impossible way of His, he pursues me.
He sends people into my life that teach me about grace.
He forgives again and again and…again.
He whispers to me in the middle of the night
and tugs on my heart in the middle of the day.

He is relentless.

But I will not relent.

Until my choices break my heart wide open
and all the hurt pours out.
“Now, I’ve done it," I tell myself.

But God isn’t done with me yet.
It seems He takes all that hurt
and washes my feet with my own tears.

How?
How can God love like this?

I keep trying to earn my way back.
I want to show that I will be a good girl for good now.

But God will have none of it.
Instead he simply wants all of me—just as I am.

And, finally, I begin to believe it.
I slow and let that love-that-never-stops-pursuing catch me.

When I do, I’m surprised at what comes with it too.

JOY

What I thought I had to chase out there in the world
turned out to be what was chasing me all along.

I’m so glad God never gave up.

(And that he never will.)

**photo credit**

This month I have asked some of my fellow bloggers to join me here at The Little Missionary Girl All Grown Up to share how they have seen the Relentless Love of the Father in their lives in moments of brokenness, heartache, and valley-of-shadow moments. This post is the 11th and final in the series of that exploration into the passion of the Father for us across miles, across personalities, across hearts that are His. To read more of the posts, click here and here.

Battle Scars & Crooked Toenails {Guest Post :: Anna}

I met Anna my freshman year in college at Oral Roberts University. Anna was bffs with my floor chaplain, Alison, and getting to know someone in the light of a beautiful relationship, you always get to really see their heart. God placed her in a strategic position to be able to speak on my behalf to be a part of the chaplain leadership program for 3 years thereafter that truly changed my life in so many ways. Anna and her husband, John, walked through the infertility journey for 3 years before finally conceiving and giving birth to little Ayla, who just turned 1 last month! They make their home together in this nation's capital with Anna's bloggy home being Anna's Joy. Her fresh and funny way of looking at life, even in the hard, will remind you that it is possible to have hope, JOY, and even a sense of humor no matter the circumstances.

Battle Scars & Crooked Toenails

I have a few really messed up toenails. I brutalized them in years (too far) past by running a couple of marathons, causing them to die and grow back in lumpy and crooked. Even though they look somewhat normal when painted and pedicured, I know what they really look like and that they will probably always be this way.

That’s what my heart is sort of like, too.

You’d never know it by my usually hilariously awesome personality, but I had a broken heart at least one day a month for almost three years.

Anyone who has run the infertility marathon will know exactly what I’m talking about. The heartbreak on days of yet another negative pregnancy test, or not even needing to take one, is truly relentless (severe, harsh).

Like many newlyweds, my husband and I laughed and blushingly smiled at people’s insinuations of lots of children and carelessly answered when people asked what our plans for children were.

We were naive kids, jumping into what we thought would be an easy float trip down a scenic river. It turned out to be a test of everything inside of us as we fought our way down a rushing torrent tumbling by treacherous rocks.

On those days, I was not feeling the relentless love of God.

On those days, He was this giant stone face; present, but silent.

On the “not yet” days, I often begged God to tell me, “No.” The endless wait, the hollow ifs, the just-freaking-don’t-know-whys, were so hard on my heart. If He would just put me out of my misery and tell me that we weren’t going to get pregnant, I could get on with my life and start looking for other ways to start a family.

God would not, in fact, tell me, “No.” He actually (finally) said, “Yes.”

No, it was more of a, “Yes, but.”

Yes, we got a baby. But, she was born a few weeks before my husband was scheduled to be transferred overseas for a year without us.

At the risk of losing some of the dramatic moment here, I must ask you to not feel too sorry for us. We are very close to the end of the year!

I am still not out of that darned river, though it’s different now.

Over the years of infertility, even through the days of the silent God, He was lovingly, patiently teaching me how to swim. He showed me when to float, when to kick, how to navigate around dangerous obstacles, how to hold my breath longer, what to do with my arms and so on (I don’t know how to actually swim that well, so that’s all I’ve got for swimming terminology).

While giving me swim lessons, God was also building us a community. We had hundreds of people praying for us to have a baby. We took a risk by letting so many people in on our painful journey, at times we even wished we hadn’t been so open. It was necessary for us, though, to have this army around us. They were how God showed His love for us, a constant, present force, holding our arms up, pointing our eyes up to the hills, then rejoicing with us as our prayers and theirs were answered.

Now, these people are still lifting us up in prayer, seeking out ways to help us and making what could be a terribly hard time of separation a season of reaping with thanksgiving.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s still really hard. My daughter isn’t the only one who cries in this house!

But these lumpy toenails of mine, I mean, my strengthened, battle-scarred heart can keep walking on abundance-filled paths (Psalms 65:11), where others wondered how the timing of this separation and baby could have possibly been from the heart of a loving Father, I cannot doubt it.

His relentless love led me, protected me and taught me in the days of waiting for a baby. I learned to trust Him wholeheartedly, to rejoice in the provision of Today and to hold on to the hands of others on the journey. Then was just one long training session for now.

I’m pretty sure even this now is preparation for what’s next, but we’ll take those steps when we get there, crooked toenails and all.

This month I have asked some of my fellow bloggers to join me here at The Little Missionary Girl All Grown Up to share how they have seen the Relentless Love of the Father in their lives in moments of brokenness, heartache, and valley-of-shadow moments. This post is the 10th in the series of that exploration into the passion of the Father for us across miles, across personalities, across hearts that are His. To read more of the posts, click here and here.

Finding Love's Roots through Grief {Guest Post :: Annie}

Oh, yay, it's time for Annie! That's the name of my truly lovely friend that I get to introduce you to today. She and I {also} met at Relevant last October, the very first night. In fact we met in the lobby with a conglomeration of newbies before the conference even began, and somehow over the next 24 hours, gravity seemed to continuously draw us back to each other. By the time we were all leaving on Sunday, less than 48 hours after we first met, discovering her and Cara was seriously like finding missing puzzle pieces that just helped to complete the picture, in the words of Anne of Green Gables, kindred spirits FOR SURE. Being an ENFP like my sister, knowing Annie is like knowing someone that I have known my whole life. She is smart and funny and wise and quirky and artsy and deep and loving all in one package. Annie makes her home with her love, Ted and their two beautiful princesses. When she isn't busy being a wife and mom, you can find Annie's poetic prose at Annie at Home, where she share her heart as a parent, her artistic ventures, and most of all, how all of that spurs her on in her journey with Jesus. You also MUST check out Annie's latest venture where she conceptualized and created the entire art decor for a local cafe. It's amazing!

Finding Love's Roots through Grief

Relentless love can mean a lot of things. There's a deep mercy in a heart rescued, and sweet mercy, too, in the protection from the shackles in the first place.

And I grew up in sunshine and sweet places, and His love pursued me: in wind whipping straight through my soul as we raced bikes down to the farm, in soul friends who knew my heart and loved me anyway, in a million little nothings that reverberated with goodness, whose sweet music drowned out the flat notes and off keys.

And I have felt heartache and wrestled with God over injustice, His existence, and all the blurry lines that a legalist detests. And over and over, He has quieted me with His love.

But it wasn't until my sister died, tragically, that my real unraveling began. It's been two years now, and it's finally sinking in that I will never know the hows and whys of her last moments, only the date her body was discovered, and the finality of her death.

And how do you tell a story that's missing half the ending? How can the beauty and tragedy of such a complicated life be captured in simple lines of letters and sentence structure? Even now, I cannot do it.

But I can speak of the falling apart that happened at the very center of my heart. It was my own voice that taunted me. All those words and lessons and heart-cries about the God who is always about the work of making new, restoring and redeeming: they blew up in my face.

Because death is pretty final, and there was no redemption story here. And that grated against all my understanding, my deepest hope, the very foundation I'd laid my life upon.

And I made it through the cruel words of well-meaning folks and I made it through the eulogy, and I spoke the truth that seemed to mock me: I said it through tears, that her life was complicated, but Jesus' relentless love for her was constant. And I longed to believe.

But I spent every night for I don't know how long, slipping out of bed, so my husband could sleep, only to wake him with my uncontrollable sobbing. And we moved closer to home a few months later, a plan in the works before any of this unfolded, and I, the raging extrovert who couldn't have enough people in my life, I cocooned.

Those months were the darkest in my life. Quiet, full of silent ache. I kept it bottled up inside, until I couldn't keep it up, couldn't stand the tension of a heart desperately clinging to hope in a God who redeems, and mocking itself for doing so at the same time.

I was curled in a ball in the corner of the upstairs bathroom the night I caved. When I admitted I just couldn't work it out, that her death and the ache that now lived inside of me was too much to reconcile, I thought my world would split apart.

But, friends, the opposite happened. Not in that moment, and not by any certain magical formula. But months later, I would sit, weeping again, always the tears, and tell a friend how the very redemption that I had shaken my hand at heaven and demanded, a glimmer of that redemption was unfurling right in the midst of my brokenness. The words shocked me as they rolled off my tongue, and rung true to my core.

In her death, my sister gave me the gift of a faith shaken, and the slow awakening to a God bigger than my ability to comprehend, full of mystery, and there is rest in simply knowing the One who knows the unknowable. Her death, and my inability to handle it, revealed broken places that He yearned to heal, parts of myself I did not know had died, and the opportunity for new life after years of dormancy.

And I do not pretend to understand the ways this all weaves together. I do not believe we can draw simple cause and effect lines to understand the complexity of loss, and I despise the simple answers offered to squelch grief: "Maybe she died so that..." But I do believe that a thousand things can happen in just one thing. And know in my heart of hearts, that God's relentless love, it has wrapped its roots deeper into my soul.

And there is an undercurrent to all this sunshine and heartache, and it is His constant pulsing heartbeat for His glory being revealed and the beautiful redemption is unfolding even now...

... even when our circumstances scream raw in defiance to His goodness

... especially in our brokenness

... beautifully in the mended places.

This month I have asked some of my fellow bloggers to join me here at The Little Missionary Girl All Grown Up to share how they have seen the Relentless Love of the Father in their lives in moments of brokenness, heartache, and valley-of-shadow moments. This post is the 9th in the series of that exploration into the passion of the Father for us across miles, across personalities, across hearts that are His. To read more of the posts, click here and here.

What it Looks Like to Walk {Guest Post :: Jennifer}

Jennifer Camp was a kindred spirit that I met at Relevant. You know how in the Austen-like wording someone might say something like, "She has a way about her." THAT is definitely Jenn. She has this quiet, kind, generous, giving "way" about her. She just listens, but really...she REALLY listens. Do you know what I mean? She is the kind of person that listens not just to be polite, but she listens with her soul. She hears your heartbeat. I believe it is because she is listening with the heart of the Father for you, for whomever crosses her path, whomever reads her blog, You Are My Girls. Jenn has an amazing story of healing and restoration that you will NOT want to miss. Jenn's family consists of the-love-of-her -life-man and three truly-beloved kids. Check out Sisters in Bloom for more of Jennifer's life-giving words.

What it Looks Like to Walk {With Jesus}

I know what it is like to complicate my relationship with God. I know what it is like to believe that my actions control His affections, whether He loves me more or less. I know what is is like to try to be my own savior and walk alone, forgetting that He has named me, designed me in His image . . . that I am adored, perfectly made.

I am good at making my relationship with my Savior seem complicated Are you?

And I am grateful that He comes to tell me -- and you -- this:

Nothing comes between us. There are no chains, no heavy load. My girl, I don't make things complicated. I long to spend time with you, and I don't want anything to come between us. There are illusions that there are barriers between us, but they are nothing that My love can't penetrate.

Trust in Me, even if you don't feel like it. Want to love me, and I will help you to love Me more. Desire to believe that I am enough, and I will show you that I am. Long to listen to My words in you, and you will hear Me speak.

Do you want this life? Do you want freedom, peace, joy, surrender in My arms? I know you feel compelled to do things on your own. And it is difficult for you to see Me then. Although I never leave you, I let you choose to see My face.

I can stand before you and you can be blind and not see Me. I can whisper to your heart, and you can be deaf and not hear. My creation sings around you -- a life to celebrate and participate in and bring more love to, in My name.

Listen, My child: My love for you is a river that swells, its river banks overflowing. It never dries. This is the course of the path where we walk, hand in hand. We follow the course of the river, My love leading the way. My sweet girl, My bride, we walk by the river bank, My Father's love uniting us. We participate in this love of the Father together. What I have, is yours. There are no chains, daughter. How is your heart stirred? I long to remind you that there are no chains.Any rising up in you is My heart pressing into yours, reminding you I am enough: you are adored and chosen. You wear no chains.

Give the small amount of love that you feel you have and I will multiply My love in you. Give what little trust you feel you have and I will lead you to surrendering more. Open your fists that seek to keep holding on to earthly things. Take those weights off, child. There. Now look into My face. Stay here, child.

{Jesus, now that I am here, looking at You, I don't even know how to turn away. . .}

But you do, when you forget that things are simple. There are no strict laws to follow, nor heavy loads that wear you down. There aren't. It is simple: I love you. I am with you. I am enough for you. I love to look on you and have you walk with Me. I have a special place prepared for you but My life with you is not something you have to wait for. Although there is more for you in store, I can't wait to be with you, and My Spirit fills you now. Accompany Me, friend, My bride. We walk with the Father, in His love. What is mine from the Father is yours. No separation, no holding out.

I miss you, sweet one. I want only you. Be with Me today.

Will you accept His invitation with me -- trust, in faith (the little or much we have!) to believe that our relationship with Jesus is profoundly and beautifully simple? We are loved. Despite what we do, we are loved. He gave it all and gives us everything because of His love.

Since then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden in Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory (Colossians 3: 1-4).

Girls, let's walk: His love will let us walk with freedom, holding His hand. There are no chains.

This month I have asked some of my fellow bloggers to join me here at The Little Missionary Girl All Grown Up to share how they have seen the Relentless Love of the Father in their lives in moments of brokenness, heartache, and valley-of-shadow moments. This post is the 8th in the series of that exploration into the passion of the Father for us

across miles, across personalities, across hearts that are His.

To read more of the posts, click here and here.

His Love Pursues {Guest Post :: Jen}

Jen is a friend that I have never met {in real life} but I feel like I have. Does that make sense? We made a connection over our time in Africa, and then in the choice to sabbatical. It seemed like the Lord brought her into my life at JUST the point when I needed a friend who understood the hard place and decision we were having to make. Jen makes her house a home with husband Jeremy and her two blonde-haired beauties {1 boy, 1 girl} in Texas. The way she has made space for God to use her in her artistic endeavors has and continues to inspire and challenge me. From photography to knitting to trying out new & healthy recipes, it seems that there is not much that Jen cannot do when she sets her mind, heart, and hands to it. Her blog home is I Believe in Love where she shares all of her artistic ventures. You can also find her kind, heartfelt, and practical words at Today's Mama.

His Love Pursues

Relentless love... The word that comes to mind is pursuit, God's pursuit of us, because of His love. Welcome to my story of God's relentless love for me...

I've been in the non-profit, full-time ministry world since 1996. What an amazing journey of traveling to 17 nations with my husband and kids! In 2005, my husband and I, along with another friend, founded Ten Thousand Homes whose aim is to bring HOPE and HOME to orphans in southern Africa. However, by 2009, I was spent. After 13 years, I was exhausted in every possible sense of the word. I knew I needed some sort of break, but there was a tug of war going on in my heart. I (and my husband) thought that if I just changed some things up, it would be ok. After all, there were children with no parents and they needed people to love them, and I was tired? Come on. God's love for those kids is relentless, but so is his love for me. That's when I heard it....

"Come away and rest."

I was truly ignorant on what a sabbatical meant but after coming through to the end, my heart swells and tears pool thinking about His love for me. It was in that year and a half of sabbatical that God showed me my passions. He brought healing to relationships and gave me space to dream. I'm not a natural dreamer, but as I tore down the walls of why I couldn't dream, they came. Some of them were small, like having one of my photos published in a magazine, and others were big, like traveling the world with my camera and telling the stories. I know dreams are just dreams. They're not necessarily goals and just because you dream them, doesn't mean they will happen. But God, in His incredible, relentless love for me, allowed them to happen.


Within a few months, my blog was published in Artful Blogging and I was asked to go to India and use photography to tell the stories of girls rescued out of prostitution. I was blown away to see dreams coming true right before my eyes, and all I could say was, "Thank you, Jesus."

As I've come out of sabbatical, I've realized that the kids in Africa were taken care of despite me stepping away (smile) and that the dreaming and understanding more of how I'm wired and what my passions are, are all helping me to be more effective now. He sees the bigger picture, and it's His love for us that drives Him to pursue our highest good. For me, it was admitting that I needed to rest...

This month I have asked some of my fellow bloggers to join me here at The Little Missionary Girl All Grown Up to share how they have seen the Relentless Love of the Father in their lives in moments of brokenness, heartache, and valley-of-shadow moments. This post is the 7th in the series of that exploration into the passion of the Father for us

across miles, across personalities, across hearts that are His.

To read more of the posts, click here and here.

The Gong Story {Guest Post :: Paige}

We are halfway through February, and almost halfway through this Relentless Love series. I hope you enjoying meeting some of my favorite blogger friends as much as I am enjoying sharing their words and hearts with you! It is exciting to see the faithfulness of the Father across miles and personalities, right?

Okay, so before I go on and on, let me introduce you to my next friend, Paige. Paige and I also attended and graduated from Oral Roberts University together. We were in spiritual leadership on campus and got to spend lots of time learning and growing together in those formative years. It was pretty amazing...seriously. We learned A TON! Paige is a training/missions pastor in Lubbock, Texas where she disciples leaders, plans mission trips, and loves on people every day. The thing that has always stood out most about Paige is her amazing smile, which is only undone by her incredibly kind heart. She truly shows love in who she is and how she sees the world. Paige married her college sweetheart, Josh and together they are raising sweet Selah and a soon-to-arrive-new-little-girl. Paige loves reading, running, traveling, loving people, and writing at her personal blog, Become Paige, where you will learn more about her life journey through ministry, mommyhood, missions and other musings & mayhem.

The Gong Story

“You are a GONG in my life.”

There it was. The truth hung in the air thick just waiting for my response to burst this bubble of criticism and brutal honesty. As I stared back at her I couldn’t register what she had just said to me. We had been meeting for almost a month now – getting together once a week to discuss theology and the Bible.

She came to me after I spoke at a college retreat she attended bursting with excitement and a plethora of questions. She stepped out boldly asking if the speaker that she admired might have a few minutes to shed some light about things like women in ministry, the gifts of the Spirit, and my own spiritual journey.

I quickly agreed to meet and we dove right into the juicy topics – I wanted her to see Scripture in a new light and was excited as light bulbs seemed to be illuminated in her mind. She disagreed with a lot of what I said, but it seemed that she enjoyed the debate – a ping pong match of who knew the Bible better with the occasional curve ball thrown in by yours truly. I saw so much promise in her – she was strong and smart and passionate – I saw a bit of myself in her eyes, and if I’m honest I was determined to get her to see through my lenses.

But here we were a month into our weekly meetings and she sat across from me – arms crossed, eyes hardened stating a sentence that will remain with me forever.

“You know that Scripture in 1 Corinthians that talks about love? It says, ‘Though I speak with the tongues of angels and men but have not love I am nothing more than a gong or clanging cymbals?’ Well, you may have all the right answers, but you are nothing more than a gong in my life. I don’t feel like you love me at all. You just want to cram your theological answers down my throat.”

And there I sat…stunned!

With defenses raised like a sharp fortress I concluded our meeting saying I needed to think about what she boldly proclaimed, and as she left I sat in silence, mouth agape…wondering if it was true.

This was ridiculous, right? Right???

And in the quiet I heard Him gently but clearly say it was true. I was a gong, and a loud one at that. I had asked her little about her life – what she liked, what she was studying, what she loved about her family, if there was a boy she liked – I came to each meeting armed with Scriptures and plans to make her…like me.

Not even like Him if I was honest (as if that were possible anyways through my gong methods)…but in the quiet and in the truth – that was the hardest thing to realize of all.

My real agenda was not even to disciple her, but to make her more like me – and she saw straight through it. Who wants to be like a gong?

I whispered, “How? How had I gotten here?”

And then I heard Him again – because you are empty…and I knew what He meant. I was empty of true love and anything resembling His true nature because it had been a long time since I had even brushed up close to He who is love.

It was a dark and dry season of my life in which I was just trying to keep a roof over our heads – my husband’s business had collapsed and I was the sole provider…he was in a depression…and I was tired of waiting…of trusting…of hoping…of leaning into Him. And so I went on auto-pilot (after all, I knew the right answers and was faking this thing called ministry pretty well – until I obviously wasn’t – I had just been called a gong!)

And it was then with face to the ground, tears and fear flowing from my heart that I knew one thing – I am loved. Even if I can’t show love – I am loved.

“And that is where you start,” I heard Him nudge. Stop plowing forward and allow yourself to breathe in my love. Until you do you will only breathe out the sound of a gong…but as you breathe in my love – breathe it in deep, then you can begin to speak the language of love that once flowed freely from your lips.

And I realized… I will never be able to truly love in my own strength, but I can know love. I can know Him and as I do, love can flow through me.

I wish I could tell you my story ended with her perfectly…and although I sat before her the next week tears streaming down my repentant face, I’m sure there were moments that I was still a gong in her life. But I laid down my Bible and my agenda and just asked her if we could be friends.

And more importantly, I laid down my agenda with Him as well. I stopped trying to fix my situation and leaned into His love. Nothing magically changed overnight…but slowly she and I learned to speak a language not of gongs and cymbals but of laughter and listening and love…and slowly – STILL slowly – I am learning to communicate with the One who knows my heart best.

I breathe in His love, His delight in me, His gentle rebukes, His direction, and His voice…and although the echoes of the gong still reverberate from time to time…it’s clear now that it is a hollow sound from an empty vessel, and there is only one remedy – His love.

*dry ground pic

This month I have asked some of my fellow bloggers to join me here at The Little Missionary Girl All Grown Up to share how they have seen the Relentless Love of the Father in their lives in moments of brokenness, heartache, and valley-of-shadow moments. This post is the 6th in the series of that exploration into the passion of the Father for us

across miles, across personalities, across hearts that are His.

To read more of the posts, click here and here.