I am honored to have a few friends the age of my mom. Four in particular stand out to me, and they have come to be real, true friends in every sense. We pray together, talk together, and learn from each other. The other day one of these sister-mother-friends wrote me an email in response to one of my posts and shared a little story. I’d like to share it with you …

It reminds me of the time I was learning to scuba dive.  My dear man, Damon, was my master diver instructor, so I trusted him with my life.  One time he put me in the middle of a small lake that was muddy and had poor visibility.  It was used for teaching rescue/recovery techniques, so there was a submerged car and an airplane at the bottom of the lake.  He told me to sit on the wing of the airplane and stay there until he came back for me.  Then he left, disappearing into the murky water.  He was gone for awhile, and so I just sat there, listening to myself breath, since I couldn’t see anything further than a foot away.  And then I saw the dark shadow moving near me, and he appeared and motioned for me surface.  He told me that he was so proud of me to sticking it out and not panicking, as he had actually seen grown men do.

But I’m sure the difference is that I knew whom I trusted.  I knew he would not put me in danger.  

Do you see the implication that I am making?  I can draw the parallel, and realize that Jesus would never put me in danger, that I can trust Him with my life, even when the water is murky and I can’t see more than a few inches in front of me.

Oh, by the way, did I tell you, I can’t swim?!  (the secret is in the equipment)

Her simple story brought tears to my eyes that day and it does today as well.

Friends, our beloved Heavenly Husband is our trusted Instructor. And perhaps today He’s called you to sit alone in the midst of dark, murky waters, and sit on the wing of a crashed airplane with no instructions whatsoever except, “Wait for me here.”

That’s it. Just, “Wait for me here.”

What will you do? Panic? Bolt for the surface? Begin a frenzied search for Him? Will you do? What will I do? Will I focus on the blackness, the murkiness, the fact that I can’t swim! Or will I focus on remembering Whom I have trusted? Will I focus on remembering His goodness, His faithfulness, His love. That fact that He can do immeasurably more than I could ever ask or imagine.

I am, by the grace of God, going to sit on that airplane wing today. In the dark and murky waters, alone, and wait for my God.

Because He will show up. That I know.  

Thank you, my mother-sister-friend for sharing your story with me. And thank you all for reading.

Strangely enough, I can still remember asking my mom the question when I was all of 7-years-old:

“Mommy, can I have a report card like the kids at school?”

I can still remember her smile. Her looking down at me. Her reply: “Honey, you are doing great. You work hard, you have a great attitude, and you’re learning lots. I’m so pleased with you. Why do you want a report card?”

Why did I want a report card? I don’t know. I was homeschooled. I didn’t have to have one. But I remember her kindly humoring me and taking a sheet of paper, writing my name, and making a list of A’s down the side with categories such as “cares for others,” “works hard,” and “listens well.” I clutched the hand-written report and beamed.

Now I have to chuckle and shake my head at this story. Partly because I still find myself 25 years later walking around the world and looking for a report card. Please? Or, worse–seeing everything in the world as one giant report card. Each day ends with a giant letter grade scribbled across the page of my life. Have you ever been there?

Sometimes it’s my kids. If we have a smooth day with cheerful attitudes or they sit quietly in church, I have an A. If they’re particularly sour or we had an incident at the store, I’m down to a D- and wish I weren’t even in the class.

Sometimes it’s my husband.  Even though my man is awesome, way too often I have believed the lie that if he’s struggling it’s because I’ve somehow failed on my end. Haven’t submitted enough or been joyful enough or haven’t given him enough lovin’. No matter what the issue is, surely his struggle must indicate my failure. It’s just another unfortunate report card.

Sometimes it’s my writing. Can I just be brutally honest and say that sometimes I hate all the tweets and pins and shares? Can I just say that sometimes, just sometimes, Facebook “likes” can feel like a giant report card? Sometimes, when my eyes are not on Jesus or my heart is in a bad space, it can feel like daily standing naked before an audience and watching a thousand thumbs point up or down. Is it any wonder writer’s block plagues us at times?

Sometimes it’s ministry, friendships, the state of my house or the number on the scale or a whole host of other ridiculous “whatevers” that that particular day might hold. Anything can be taken by the enemy and folded into a nice paper report card, by which my happiness can come …

… and go.

The truth is, whatever the report card of the day might say, if we look to it to find our worth we are well on our way to misery.

The truth is, the world is not your report card. 

The truth is, some days your kids are angels and some days they are … something else. Some days your man will be flourishing and some days he will struggle too … just like you. Some days you will be celebrated and some days you will be forgotten.

Just like Jesus. 

His children misbehave sometimes. His Bride struggles often. His Word usually isn’t “liked” much at all. 

What does that mean?

It means we must remember that our report card was a list of F’s for every category. But there is now, written in His blood, the name JESUS printed across the top, cancelling out every debt, every failure, every shortcoming.

We no longer need a report card. Jesus Christ nailed ours to the cross and told us, once and for all, we are accepted and beloved in Him. My mom’s words, “I”m so pleased with you. Why do you need a report card?”

You’re right, Mom.

I don’t. 

~

{Because Jesus is enough and His blood covers it all. Be free today from the shackles of a report-card existence. I pray blessing for you today … thanks for reading}

Chalk it up to hormones, fatigue, or just the whole it’s-49-degrees-and-raining-in-June thing, but sometimes we just get the blues. You know, right? Almost as soon as your feet hit the floor you’re tempted to tuck them back in that warm bed and stay most the day.

I had one of those days last week. I think it was just a culmination of the life-weeding, mice-hunting, soul-searching , sky-raining, and a touch of writer’s block. Somehow everywhere I looked I just saw more reason to be bummed. Why?

Because all the places I’d looked had been at myself. 

A surefire way to sink straight down into the mire. Thankfully, my husband refuses to let me stay in that place, and he suggested that a run might be in order.  I laced up my shoes with a scowl on my face.

Within a couple steps someone’s face came to mind. A friend who I dearly love, who I knew was having a rough go of things. Immediately I knew the reason God had wanted me to run, as I could go by her house and pray for her before she started her day. I turned the corner off my normal route and headed to her house.

Instantly I felt better. Instantly.

After leaving her place, I sniffed up my tears (it was so good to see her!), and headed back home, at a little quicker pace and with energy I hadn’t felt before. I clicked my ipod on and this worship song came on … the words:

When we give our life away … oh the earth starts spinning again.

When we’re in our funk doesn’t it feel like the earth is standing still? That’s how it felt for me. Like nothing was changing. I wasn’t changing. Circumstances weren’t changing. Just stuck. Stuck in my funk. Stuck tired. Stuck, stuck, stuck. Like the earth–my world–was stuck in one place.

When we give our life away … oh the earth starts spinning again.

Providence just so had it that the day was filled with more opportunities for others. We visited and took a gift to someone we love who was going through a painful situation. More tears, more prayers, more laughs, more smiles. Then we headed to Doernbecher children’s hospital to visit a dear friend whose son was having surgery. Another blessed opportunity to love, to forget about my silly self and embrace the joy of relationship. Since we were out and about past noon, I decided to surprise the kids with a treat, and we snagged a Trader Joe’s pizza for lunch. They were deliriously happy!

By the time we returned home, I’d all but forgotten my funk. Now please hear my heart, I’m not saying that clinical depression or real, true sorrow is just “quick fixed” by going to visit someone or getting your kids a treat. But, if you’re anything like me, life just hits with little funks and moods that threaten my joy more often than I care to admit. And it is these little leaks that deflate us and leave us dragging in discouragement.

So besides the obvious–prayer, worship, meditating on Scripture–the next best RX for the blues is to just get out there and do something for someone else. Write a card. Visit. Pray for someone. Call someone. Think through your friends and consider who might need some encouragement, then think through her love language and figure out the best way you can bless her. Think about a way you can surprise your husband with something out of the ordinary. Think of what treat your kids might enjoy and spoil them–just a little–for the day.

Do you need a little extra  umph today? A little energy and joy to bring back that spring in your step? Take 5 minutes this morning to think through who you might bless today. Then give your life away and receive a dose of joy in return…

{Thanks for reading.}

Needless to say, I’m feeling a little blessed by friendships right now. My weekend was full of friend’s faces, hugs, laughter, and way too much amazing dessert. But that’s what birthdays are for!

Now, we’re 2/3 the way through our challenge … hang in there! Keep with it; let’s continue to the end and learn all we can from meditating on these scriptures and living them out each day, ok? Ready for week 4? Lord, give us grace and strength to continue in these this week …

Monday, June 11: Romans 15:14: “Instruct one another.”

This probably isn’t the most instinctive “one another” for most of us. Encouraging each other, yes. Loving each other, yes. Instructing each other? Yes. Sure, we’re not all gifted teachers and not all called to formal teaching settings, but we all teach each other. A perfect example was my weekend. Some girlfriends and I gathered and through the natural course of conversation we instructed each other. Melissa told us all about homesteading and her lavender business and keeping bees and Candi and I were hanging on every word. I almost started taking notes. Candi taught us about makeup and skincare. Abbey taught us about fashion. Janae taught me about friendship. All of them taught me by their actions, words, example. We all instruct each other, all the time. The question is: What does your life teach? What words come out of your mouth? What are you instructing people in by the words that you say and the actions you live? What do people learn from you? Something to consider today … 

Tuesday, June 12: Ephesians 4:25: “Speak truthfully.”

This last weekend I was so blessed by a friend who went out of her way to clarify a situation so that she was completely truthful and not misleading. She easily could have let it go but she went out of her way to just be over-the-top clear and not misleading or misrepresenting herself in any way. I love that! SUCH integrity. Such honesty and humility. That is so attractive to me and makes me want to be her friend even more.  Another friend and I had a long talk about our hopes and expectations for the future, and shared some really honest things that helps us understand each other better. I can tend to be a people-pleaser, so I’d rather just agree than really speak the truth and risk disagreeing. But real friends are able to disagree and still love each other. The key–speak the truth in love. Is this honesty helpful? Pray today about ways you can become more honest in your friendships, in ways that edify you and your friend. Then take action!

Wednesday, June 13: Ephesians 4:2: “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.”

Without a doubt, we will have opportunity to practice this with our friends. Are we patient when someone irritates us? Are we humble when they say something that bruises our ego? Are we gentle or do we just spew out whatever is on our minds? Are we careful and tender and patient and gentle, or are we harsh? This is a great balance with yesterday’s challenge, because we must always temper our honesty with humility, gentleness, patience, and forbearance. This verse is worth memorizing. Tape this one up above your kitchen sink and memorize today. It just might come in handy … 🙂

Thursday, June 14: Colossians 3:13: “Forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another.”

Take some time this morning and ask God is there is any trace of unforgiveness in your heart. So often we forgive something once, and then it creeps back up in our minds and hearts and next thing you know you’re holding it back over that person. Choose to forgive again. Really go to battle this day and ask God to help you gain ground and victory in forgiveness. Ask Him to help you understand the gospel and how great was the debt that He paid. Spend time in prayer today and choose to forgive that person, whoever he or she is who comes to mind.

Friday, June 15: Galatians 5:25: Don’t provoke or envy one another.

Envy is one we always must be on guard against. What is it that you most tend to envy? Another woman’s success? Home? Children? Husband? Status? Looks? Whatever it is that we most tend to envy is a clue to what our idol is. We tend to envy whatever it is that we find our identity in, or what we’ve made our false god, our idol. We tend to think, “I’d be happy if I only had ______________ that she has.” That is a lie from the pit of hell. Everything that we need for life and godliness is given to us. Today, identify what it is you most tend to envy in others, and ask God to give you freedom from that idol. On a related note, be purposeful today not to provoke each other. We often unwittingly provoke each other by our silent competition. When we try to be better, we’re silently provoking others to join into our deadly competition. Don’t compete. Lose the race. Sit down on the sidelines and bask in who God made you to be.

Saturday, June 16: James 4:11: “Do not slander one another.”

Ok girls, slander sounds harsh, but we’ve done it. All of us.  How do you choose to describe someone? Do you use a palette of grace? Or do you paint people in a way that highlights their blemishes and accentuates your own worth? Do you talk about another woman in a way that she’d be happy to hear? Always think: If the person I am taking about were listening to me, would they be happy with what I’m saying. That doesn’t mean we’re fake, but it does mean we’re fair.  Always, always, always, believe the best. Paint people in a forgiving light. Love covers a multitude of sins. Cover sin by your words and paint people with grace.

Sunday, June 17: Matthew 5:23-24; 18:15: Re-establish broken relationships with one another.

This is the culmination of everything we’ve done this week. As we’ve asked God to help us forgive, we’ve chosen not to slander, we’ve been truthful and yet patient, gracious, gentle. And now … take a step. Is there anyone God brings to mind who you need to re-establish a broken relationship with? Who is it? What face comes to mind? Ask God what His will is regarding this relationship and what you can do to heal it, if at all possible. Read through the Matthew 5 & 18 passages today and ask Him for specific guidance for possibly approaching this person. Perhaps, even, on Father’s Day, it is your father? Go the extra mile today to reach out and bless your dad, no matter what he’s been like. And most of all, as much as depends on you, live at peace with all people.

Praying you have a blessed Monday! Thanks so much for reading.

Thank you.

What else can I say as I sit here, my eyes full of tears and my lip quivering and my heart overflowing with gratitude that you guys would take the time to make me feel so loved? Thank you.

Thank you, husband, for selflessly loving me and cheering for me and championing me, not just on my birthday but every single day. Your love has changed my life forever.

Thank you, parents, for loving me with that crazy-love that is beyond anything I’ve ever seen. It still overwhelms me when I think of how you have covered my entire life in unconditional love. I have never for one single moment doubted your love for me. Thank you. And thank you, Janie, Dan, Betsy, for your love these past 9 years.

Thank you, Janae, for 32 years of friendship and for, in the midst of your CRAZY season right now, taking the time to organize all of this to bless me. Here’s to the next 32 years together.

Thank you, friends, for taking the time in the midst of your full lives to write a few lines of encouragement to me. If Mark Twain said he can live two months on one good compliment, I should be pretty much set for life!  You breathed new life into my sails and inspired me to follow Jesus more. SO glad we get to do this life-journey together!

Thank you, readers, for reading. For enduring my wordiness (!), opening your hearts to let Him work, for following along through all the highs and lows, for commenting and writing so that I know I’m not out here all alone (!), and most of all for doing this life-thing together with me. It is the greatest honor to do this beautiful, messy, sacred mundane journey together.

Have a glorious Sunday worshipping our Lord.

Thank you.

I’ll admit: I was very skeptical of this “bite.” Quit washing my hair? Um… yeah, that’s going to simplify my life because all my hair will fall out and I’ll look so terrible I’ll never leave the house! But as some of you know, Tsh Oxenreider swears by her simple baking soda and vinegar hair treatment, so I figured I’d give it a shot.

I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised.

Now again, I don’t think “to shampoo or not to shampoo” is a moral issue. But, if you’re wanting to save some money and rid your household of chemicals, this might just be a great step for you. Tsh explains her reasoning:

Since we try to avoid food that has unpronounceable ingredients, we thought it only made sense to adhere to the same standards for the stuff we slather on our skin. Which includes shampoo. Most  shampoos also contain mineral oil, which is a

byproduct when gasoline is distilled from crude oil. It’s added to shampoo (along with hundreds of other products) to thickly coat the strands, giving hair an artificial shine. And since it can’t absorb into skin, like the other ingredients, it acts as a barrier on our scalp, preventing oil from being released—thus requiring more shampoo to strip away the grease. …

… So because shampoo isn’t really necessary, using it creates this cycle that requires a dependence on the stuff, along with dependence on other hair products. In order to combat the stripping of protective oils, we need an artificial protectant called conditioner. And once hair is coated with more unnatural substances, it requires more unnatural substances to keep it styled, strong, and workable.

So all this is well and good but what is it actually like? Tsh has very short, wavy, brown hair. I have long, straight, fine, very blond hair and I really figured this would be a disaster.

It wasn’t. It actually worked. And since my hair can tend to be flat and lifeless, I think the less-is-more routine actually gave it more life and body. Here’s what I did:

Ketchup & Mustard squeeze bottles from the Dollar Store $1  (any squeeze bottles will do)

“Shampoo”: 1 TB baking soda + 1 cup water. Shake, apply to roots to wash.

“Conditioner”: 1 TB apple cider vinegar + 1 cup water. Shake, apply to ends (or whole head) after washing. 

Cons: No luxurious shampoo scent. No pleasureful sensation of massaging thick suds all over your head.

Pros: Cost a fraction of a penny. An entire bottle of apple cider vinegar cost $.97 at Winco. That’s enough for a whole year of conditioning. That’s a big savings. Also, no more chemicals. This routine is all natural.

Are you willing to try it? Just give it a shot. You might be pleasantly surprised.

{Have you tried this method? What was your experience? What hair-care tips can you share for a simple, frugal, beautiful routine? Thanks for reading, happy Friday!}

Another sweet word from Caila. Receive, be blessed…

~

Something happened to me a few years ago that may have happened to some of you. In fact, according to statistics, it’s happened to at least half of you who are women and who have been pregnant at one time or another. I had a miscarriage. 

I’m not here today to give you a sob story. It was a struggle that ultimately brought me to the question, “How can something so awful be sacred?”

I’ve been thinking about it a lot, the loss and pain and heartache of losing a child, no matter how small. Maybe it’s because Mother’s Day just passed and although I spent it blissfully with my three children, I know others were mourning the loss of a child, or the inability to conceive one.

“Pain” is a hard topic and I am certainly not going to attempt a Theological presentation on why God allows pain. I am not here to tell you that pain is good (I don’t think it is) or that you should handle it with thanksgiving (I don’t think I always can). I’m simply here to ask the question, Can pain be sacred? And if so, what should we do with it?

I was 27 years old and already the mother to one little blonde boy when I received the news of my miscarriage. I lay on the exam table next to my husband and my boy, looking at the screen when the doctor put the Ultrasound down and looked me in the eye. She was sensitive but direct: there was no heartbeat. The strong beat we had seen and heard two weeks ago was gone. The diagnosis was clear.

Despite all my resolves that, should anything like this ever happen I would be strong, I felt myself crumble. I had wanted this baby so badly, already suffered through being so sick and now it was all nothing. The doctor gently gave me my options. Would I like to have a D and C now, or later?

Here in the United States we like to anesthetize all pain. Every time Abby stubs her toe, I run to the medicine cabinet saying,  “It’s ok, honey. Mommy has medicine!” I want the Neosporin to take away her pain. When I have a sore throat I go for the Ibuprofen. And I’m not ashamed to tell each one of you that near the end of labor, all three times, I’ve had an epidural stuck in my spine. Doctor, take that pain away!

So, I’m not opposed to pain management. But that day I paused before I rushed to answer the doctor.  What would God have me do? The answer came gently into my heart, with a slight tightening in my stomach muscles. Wait, was the answer. Don’t have any procedures done yet. I want you to wait.

Now let me pause here for a moment: I truly believe that we all have different needs, different abilities, and God knows how to guide each of us specifically through every circumstance. He doesn’t give us things he won’t make us able to handle. In this case, I was not supposed to have a D and C. I had my reasons for that decision. But you, you might make a different decision in the same circumstance. Perhaps you already have. I’m not here to tell you I made the only right decision. I believe, perhaps, God had something to teach me while I waited. Something about pain. And something about what comes after.

So we went home and I waited for the baby to pass. Every morning I woke up, waiting for the pain in my body to begin, waiting for the pain in my heart to ease. I waited two weeks before anything happened and in that time these truths grew in my heart.

Pain brought me up against the “real world.” I think we often don’t understand how much hurt the world holds for other people until we feel real pain.

Pain made me realize my own mortality. I couldn’t make my baby’s life happen and I couldn’t preserve it, either. Life is up to God.

Pain made me surrender my dreams to God. I had to wait two weeks for the child to pass and every day was surrender. Then I had to wait months and months before we conceived again and those days were a different kind of surrender.

Finally, my body let the child go. It was a sweet surrender; pain had wrought its work in me. I felt quiet inside, like I had aged ten years and fought one of the mighty battles of the universe. I did not run from pain, did not hide from the suffering. I had met it face to face and survived.

I had suffered pain and found a beautiful truth: God is close to those who suffer.

Can pain be sacred? Is it ground for growth? Certainly, yes, to each of these. I would not choose to hurt again, but I cherish the depth I gained in that time. I know my children are God’s own creations, brought into this world by his hand in his time. I know I am their shepherd but not their creator. I know my heart is loved by God and that he knows how to guide me through pain. I know the world can be hard and awful; atrocities happen but eternity is true and one day He will wipe those tears from our eyes.

Those who suffer are not alone. Even He, the most Sacred One of all, knew how it felt to weep. (John 11:35)

These are the sacred things suffering brought into my life. Pain can be a enriched soil if you let it be. If you quiet your heart before God and lift the hurt up to him, he can take it and fashion something beautiful. Others may not see it, but you’ll know it’s there, shining beneath the surface and coloring every day of the rest of your life.

That’s why there is hope in the midst of great pain. Because with it comes the promise of the Lord’s help in suffering. There is a song that I love and almost hate because it is so true. These words slay me:

This hand is bitterness

We want to taste it

Let the hatred numb our sorrows

But the Wise Hand opens slowly

To lilies of the valley, and

Tomorrow

This is what it means to be held

How it feels when The Sacred is torn from your life

And you survive

This is how it feels to be loved and to know

That when everything thing fell

We’d be held

Lyrics from Held, by Natalie Grant

Here I am three and a half years later, with two more children since my miscarriage. I still hold those lessons tight and one stands out to me today: never downplay another’s suffering.

If any of you are suffering today, I am so sorry. We have little to give each other but a hug (over the internet waves) and a prayer. Just know that you are not alone, you are loved, and one day we will see Him face to face. Surely then, these things will be put right.

{Thank you, friends, for reading.}

I bend low, down onto my knees, and poke my head under the bottom pantry shelf, the place I’ve been dreading to look. Just as I suspected: mouse poop galore. Just like the space under the sink, in the oven drawer, in the towels, along the backs of every cupboard shelf. It’s just a picture of this season–a time to clean up the fruit of neglect. A busy season means mice creep in and weeds grow up. And now it’s time to do away with both.

It’s been quiet here at home. Which is nice. It had been a long, busy, noisy season and I’m happy for the change of pace. But I also find that slowing down means I notice a lot more.

Like weeds.

And mouse poop.

And a bathtub that won’t drain.

And dusty, forgotten toys underneath beds.

On the one hand, I truly enjoy a slower pace. I’m a home-body and my favorite times are no-agenda days where the kids and I can play and learn and clean and just be. But I also find that slowing down–really slowing down–allows me to notice all the things that, to be completely honest, I’d rather not notice.

Like fears.

And insecurities.

And a restless heart.

And hidden, forgotten wounds that still just haven’t quite healed.

All those things never went away. They just got covered up with commotion, right? And what are quiet seasons for if not to sit in the silence and take a long brave look at all that is broken and still needing His miraculous, healing touch?

And what is silence for if not to wait for His voice that calms all fears and stills all storms?

I think back to the weeds, all those weeds. And how I spend all weekend digging them all up–deep down, from the root. And how we hauled them off in wheelbarrow loads, and how the ground looks so bare and ugly. Like pruning–a whole lot of hard work only to make something look worse off than before.

But how something looks and how something is are two different things, yes?

It is the quietest courage that makes the mundane choices throughout the day to believe God and refuse to escape or distract and to go ahead and dig up all the commotion and take a look at the bare-ugliness and know this: God will plant something beautiful. 

The quietest courage chooses the right thing when no one is watching. The quietest courage says Yes to God as He silently works His heart-surgery in us all day.

The quietest courage is brave enough not only to say, “Yes, Lord, I will go!” but even to say, “Yes, Lord, I will stay.”

Stay in this quiet space and listen, rest, know that You are God. 

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it,

Prone to leave this God I love.

Take my heart, Lord, take and seal it,

Seal it for thy courts above.

{May He give you the quietest courage today to stay, quiet, rest, know He is God. Thanks for reading.}

Although our house is ugly as all get out, it’s mercifully improved by a lively patch of landscape adorning the front. There are lilacs, rhododendrons, irises, and a dozen other luscious green things which I cannot name. The whole huge patch is full of green and every time I pull into the driveway I smile–it just looks so full and flourishing and healthy! I love it.

But a few days ago I looked a little closer. 

The kids and I spent most of Thursday outside playing in the dirt. It was the perfect opportunity to admire the flourishing foliage of the front yard so I eased down into the grass and looked a little closer at the plants.

I blinked my eyes. Had I really never noticed? 

It was weeds.

All weeds. 

Sure, a few legitimate shoots were desperately poking their heads above the cacophony of noxious plants, but the rest–by far the majority–were nothing more than enthusiastic weeds.

Really?

My heart sank as I realized that all this time what I’d thought was beautiful, lush, healthy growth was really nothing more than a creeping commotion of impostors. And so wildly had all this commotion grown that the entire patch of landscape was literally overrun with green nets of tangled arms. This was no neat and tidy weeding job. There was nothing to do but set to work with trowel and dig out huge patch after huge patch of weed-infested earth.

The spiders, the infections, the mice … and the weeds. (Was God telling me something?)

After spending all afternoon weeding, I stepped back and surveyed my work. Most of the weeds were gone, it was true, but sadly the result was … ugly.

True, the real flowers were cleared away and no longer suffocated by weeds.But now the space looked sparse, empty even. The patches of bare dirt made the whole space look awkward and blotchy.

Honestly, it looked better when the weeds were there. 

I knelt back down in the dirt, sunk my trowel back in to unearth one last weed.

And I paused just long enough to listen:

This is what the church must do. 

Not my church, or your church–the church. That is, us. 

That is, me.

Bare dirt looks terrible. Almost as bad as blank space. Or empty seats. Or quiet calendars. We must FILL. Must fill the space. Must fill the calendar. Must fill the seats at all cost. But I wonder, How much of that filling is fruit … and how much is a commotion of weeds? 

Commotion. 

I know this word is for me, but perhaps some piece of it can apply to you as well? The truth is that only true fruit will last. Only the real stuff. The legitimate plants. The weeds will be burned up. Gone. But in the meantime, sometimes we are content with our landscape full, flourishing, abounding. But what if it’s abounding with weeds?

Weeds: Any activity less than the pure, authentic, Spirit-led work of God. 

What I was amazed by was how pretty some of the weeds were. I was tempted to let them grow until I googled them and saw how noxious they are. So too, some of our “ministry” can look so pretty, can seem so good, but I wonder–is it merely commotion? Does it choke out the real fruit? Is it simply something to fill the space because bare dirt just looks so ugly?

Plain soil isn’t beautiful.  Is it?

Plain soil is beautiful to a Gardener who loves to grow remarkable fruit. Plain, rich soil is exactly what our Father wants. His hands are full of seed and He is ready to plant.

Will He find any space to plant?

Is there any bare space in our lives for Him to plant His good fruit?

Or have we allowed the commotion of weeds to fill the space, because it looks better?

Is anybody else receiving this but me? Because oh friends, these seeds are getting poked down deep in my heart.

Poked down so deep it hurts just a bit.

How is your soil? Is it full of commotion? Overrun with weeds and activity? Is there any bare soil, just a spot, where the Gardener can plant his perfect fruit to glorify His name?

Perhaps some ruthless weeding is in order today?

Me too.

{Thanks for reading.}