\ rest | Dorina Lazo Gilmore

Chasing God's glory through tragedy and triumph

rest

Book review: Whispers of Rest

Posted by | book reviews, identity, rest, self-care | No Comments

When my husband Shawn and I started dating, I asked him what he did on weekends. His response: long runs and long naps.

I laughed out loud.

Naps?!

Did adults really take naps? As an endurance athlete, rest was an important part of his weekly schedule. I had long ago given up on naps. With three active daughters who from the time they were born were never on the same sleep schedule, I had given up all hope of midday rest. It never occurred to me that people actually built this into their regular rhythm.

I figured when Shawn and I got married that he would have to give up his naps. I was wrong. He taught us all how to nap. More importantly, he has given me permission to rest. He has been instrumental in my journey learning to embrace rest not just for my body, but also for my soul.

This spring and summer I’ve been going through a devotional called Whispers of Rest: 40 Days of God’s Love to Revitalize Your Soul by Bonnie Gray. I read Bonnie’s Finding Spiritual Whitespace last year and loved her message.  I chose to work my way through this devotional slowly. I picked it up on days I needed that extra whisper of rest. I gave myself permission not to go through it on 40 consecutive days so it wasn’t a chore, but rather a joy. It’s truly like a detox for the soul.

Whispers of Rest helped call me back to intentional rest during this season – a rest that starts in the arms of my loving Father basking in His truth.

Bonnie writes, “We often burn ourselves out trying to serve God, rather than taking care of ourselves – the way God would want, if He were here in person today. Somehow, we’ve learned we don’t deserve rest – until we’ve solved our problems or we’re no longer struggling. It’s the opposite.”

When I read that, I knew Bonnie was speaking right to me. For decades, I have put my own rest as last place on the to-do list. As a mother and in my work, I built a rhythm that was about multitasking, committing to too much, pushing through, and burning the candle at both ends.

The devotional includes some unique elements. In addition to the scripture, devotional, prayer and reflection questions, Bonnie includes a section called Soul Care Trail Notes. This is one of my favorite parts of the book. She includes practical tips and interesting studies to reduce stress and give yourself creative outlets from the everyday busy.

Some examples are studies that show simply listening to nature helps people become less stressed, the benefits of aromatherapy, how hugs improve our mood and how music serves as a powerful therapy to calm anxiety and improve sleep. Rest for me in this season now includes trail running, reading books on the beach while my children play in the waves, and 20-minute power naps as often as possible.

If you are journeying through grief or facing a move, or stepping into a new job, if you are dealing with anxiety or fear, I highly recommend Whispers of Rest. This book will renew your spirit and lead you to embrace your true identity in Christ as the beloved.

The other day my dad and his friend stopped by our house to drop something off. They caught me in the middle of sorting boxes and clothes to give away before our upcoming move. His friend chuckled as he saw me sweating and my girls doing cartwheels through the living room. To him, our house was bustling with activity.

“You must not require as much sleep as normal people,” he laughed.

If it had been even two years ago, I might have quipped back about how particularly adept I was at multitasking or how little I slept. I wore these things like a badge of honor.

Instead I found myself saying these words. “Actually, I rest a lot. That’s what gives me energy to tackle all this.”

I realized how much my mindset has shifted. Rest is vital rather than expendable. Rest is the way my soul breathes. With Bonnie’s help, I now embrace rest as a gateway to God’s presence and my own creativity.

**I love sharing book, podcast and recipe recommendations. Subscribe to my Glorygram newsletter so I can share more insider recommendations and words of encouragement with you!

*Main photo by Rodolfo Sanches Carvalho on Unsplash.com.

{Summer Blog Swap} How to keep your eyes on the light when darkness surrounds you

Posted by | death, family life, fear, grief, Guest blogger, hope, rest, Stories | No Comments

Welcome to my Summer Blog Swap. This month I am inviting four of my blogger friends over to this space to share some of their posts and perspectives. It’s a fun way to introduce some of my favorite people to all of you. This week I’d like you to meet my friend Tara Dickson. We met through a writing group called Hope*writers. Tara is a recent widow and mother to four children. Following her husband’s death to glioblastoma, brain cancer in 2016, she began sharing her story of grieving with hope and pursuing her dream of writing.

 

When my beloved husband went to Heaven at the age of 45, I felt like life as I knew it was over. I couldn’t imagine how to step forward. In fact, it felt like my own heart had stopped beating with his. But the ache didn’t lie. I was still here with four children to guide, most of them still teenagers. They were on the cusp of adulthood. Who would lead them forward? Who would teach my boys to become men? Whose arms would comfort our daughters? I wanted to do all those things but was struggling to find how to breathe, myself.

Then His Spirit breathed, upon us. He gave us permission to hide our hearts in His shadow.

What does it mean to hide in His shadow, while he puts us back together? What if we believed that the things of this world have not broken us, but only bruised us?

Dear ones, we may feel shattered beyond repair and of no use to Him or anyone, but we are merely being refashioned for another purpose.

Psalm 91 makes some mighty promises:

“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress.”
My God, in Him I will trust.
He shall cover you with His feathers, 
And under His wings you shall take refuge;
His truth shall be your buckler. 
You shall not be afraid of the terror by night, 
Nor of the arrow that flies by day,
Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness,
Nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
And ten thousand at your right hand;
BUT it shall not come near you.

He shall call unto me, and I will answer him; 
I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him and honor him.”

Abide.
Trust.
Take refuge under his wings.
Use your shield, let every thought be sifted through the voice of truth.
Don’t give in to fear.

When you call, He will answer.

“But trouble surrounds me,” you say. “Where is he?”
He is with you in the trouble. He is with you and He will deliver you and give you honor. And after you have suffered a little while he will strengthen confirm and establish you!

The secret beloved is to not get lost in the dark. Why do you think scripture speaks so much about the light? Because, he knew there would be darkness beloved. In this world you will have trouble, not you might or if you are good you won’t… but YOU WILL have trouble.

But take heart, he says, “I Have Overcome the World.”

So how do we follow the light when darkness seems to surround us? We start by not looking at the darkness.

Have you ever stood outside on a dark night with only the light of the moon to illumine the dark? I mean really, dark, without even a street lamp for comfort. The darkness is an inky black, and the more you stare into it the more disoriented you become. But, glance at the moon, the only source of light, and objects take on their perspective. Shadows recede and tree branches take on a beautiful etching across the night sky.

Beloved, we must keep our eyes on the light rather than the darkness to keep our perspective. The enemy would love to overwhelm and overcome us. He would like us to feel lost. But take heart, you have a safe place to hide, under His wings. You can trust Him, He is a good king. Send fear on its way, because when you call, He promises to answer.

Maybe it’s loud and you need to get quiet so you can hear him. Maybe you are tired and you need to rest. Let him lead you beside quiet waters and restore your soul.

Come what may, never forget that He is with you! He is! Fear is a liar, darkness distorts our vision and our feelings that carry such weight with us, don’t always speak truth. His word is the anchor that holds us in any storm. Fix your gaze back on him, hide in His shadow and let Him do his holy work in secret.

Let him piece you back together fit for the purposes He still has in store for you.

 

 

Tara spends her time teaching as well as writing words of hope for children and adults.  She is an agented author with Credo Communications. You can find her sharing words of encouragement at taradickson.com or on Instagram. Her ingredients for a good writing environment include a good cup of coffee, dark chocolate with a cozy blanket nearby. Rain on the roof is a bonus.

 

 

 

*Main photo by Natalya Letunova on Unsplash

Book Review: Holy Hustle: Embracing a work-hard, rest-well life

Posted by | book reviews, community, creativity, end-of-school year, family life, flourishing, identity, rest, schedule, serve | No Comments

Do you need to work harder? Do you need to rest more? What shapes your ideas about work? What if you could redeem hustle for God’s glory? These are just a few of the questions Crystal Stine is tackling in her newly-released book, Holy Hustle.

Crystal presents a challenging and refreshing examination of the roles of work and rest in our lives. Her central message is that we should “work without shame and rest without guilt” for the glory of God.

I love the way Crystal holds both of these ideas in tandem. Crystal encourages women to pursue “holy hustle,” a word-hard, rest-well lifestyle that chases faith instead of fame.

Each chapter of the book includes Crystal’s personal narrative, an inspiring quote, a section that digs deeper into a Bible story or passage, a Holy Hustle story about another woman practicing this lifestyle, and pages for reflection and journaling.

Crystal hits on three main themes:

  1. Serving not striving
  2. Embracing community, ditching comparison
  3. Redefining our purpose as we seek God in our work

These themes resonate deeply with me as I have moved through seasons of working as a stay-at-home mom, working part-time from home, working outside of the home, and now working full-time from home, while raising three school-aged girls. I constantly have to shift my perspective back to working and resting for the glory of God.

One of my favorite parts of the book is the way Crystal unpacks the story of Ruth. This has always been one of my favorite books of the Bible, and especially since 2014 when I was widowed. Ruth’s character inspires me, but I never considered what this story teaches us about work and rest.

Crystal points out that Ruth is a beautiful example of what it means to stay where God has called us until the work is done. “Ruth didn’t show up and do the bare minimum to get by. She hustled. She worked hard, respectfully, resting when needed, and finishing the work that was before her.”

In Ruth 2:5-7, it actually says Ruth worked all day and took time to rest.

“Rather than allow her circumstances to push her to strive and scramble and make a way for herself, Ruth saw a way to serve her family and did it with her whole heart through not just one harvest season, but two,” writes Crystal.

I am learning the value of less striving and taking on a posture of serving like Ruth. In my own life and work, God continues to open doors of opportunity I never would have experienced if I was simply hustling for my own gain.

Crystal closes the book by talking about “The Blessing of Rest.” I grew up in a work-hard, strive-more family. It wasn’t until recent years that I have come to understand the importance of rest to refill, refuel and refresh my spirit, as Crystal talks about. Holy Hustle helped me to think more deeply about my own choices about work and rest.

This book comes at the end of the school year and the start of summer – a perfect time for reexamining my own work rhythms and expectations with my three daughters home. I highly recommend grabbing a copy of this book and heading for the beach or your favorite spot to read and rest.

***

Read more about my own wrestling with work and rest in my Flourishing Together Bible study now available on Amazon. The journey of writing this Bible study showed me that rest is an important part of the flourishing process.

***

*This post includes Amazon affiliate links with no extra charge to the buyer. Thank you for helping keep my blog going through your purchases.

This article gives practical ideas for soul care and self-care for widows and others grieving. Resource links included. www.DorinaGilmore.com.

10 Ideas for self-care for widows and others grieving

Posted by | brave, creativity, death, flourishing, grief, hope, identity, rest, running, self-care, Stories, worship, writing | No Comments

After my husband died, I realized I desperately needed to take some time to nourish myself and my three daughters. From the day he received the initial stage four cancer diagnosis to the day he graduated to Heaven, we lived in crisis mode.

During those months, I slept very little. I cared for my beloved around the clock as the cancer coursed through his body. He needed medicine and special foods every hour. I traveled with him to countless doctor appointments. In his final weeks, he needed help with basic hygiene and trips to the bathroom.

When friends and family members came to relieve me in taking care of him, I could never really rest because I was so fraught with anxiety. I experienced anticipatory grief. I couldn’t keep down much of my own food, and it showed in the amount of weight I lost that summer. I was withering.

I had to learn how to take care of myself again. I realized how malnourished I was physically, emotionally and spiritually. As a caretaker, I poured out everything. I needed to eat literally, but more than that, I needed to lean into my relationship with God and the nourishment of my community.

The following is a list of ideas for self-care and soul care that have helped me over the last few years. These suggestions are not meant to be prescriptive. I hope instead they will provide encouragement and inspiration for you as you navigate your own grief journey. If you know someone who is grieving, these are areas you can encourage them. For widow mamas, the greatest gift can often be providing loving care for her children so she can take a little time to care for herself.

When we are navigating grief, I believe we need to start by nurturing our souls. A key part of my journey has been rooting myself continually in Christ. I call these practices “soul care.” Through “soul care,” God has helped me learn to flourish and move forward after such profound loss.

My first five suggestions are ideas to connect with God in a personal way:

  1. Listen to worship music. On my darkest days of grief, worship music lifted me. I even developed a worship playlist on Spotify that helped me turn my eyes to Jesus. I listened to it when I was doing the dishes and folding clothes. Now I press play on this list every morning to get my heart pointed in the right direction. I recently read an article that talked about the neuroscience behind listening to music. The article said a single song can reduce anxiety up to 65 percent. Music has the power to calm our nervous system.
  1. Write in a prayer journal. When my husband was first diagnosed with cancer, a dear friend came over with a wrapped gift. Inside was a journal with the words, “Dear God, Guide me in prayer.” The scriptures on the pages helped guide me each morning as I poured out my heart to God. I wrote freely without a lot of pressure. I journaled my questions, my doubts, my fears and even a running list of gratitude. I’m grateful for this prayer journal now four years later. It provides a path to remember and trace God’s glory along my grief journey.

 

  1. Read a devotional to start your day with truth. Many days I started exhausted. As a single mama of three children, I sometimes struggled to begin a new day without my husband. I decided to read a devotional each morning to help replace my discouragement with Biblical truth. A few of my favorites include: Streams in the Desert by L.B. Cowman, One Thousand Gifts devotional by Ann Voskamp and A Spectacle of Glory by Joni Eareckson Tada. Sometimes I would journal my responses to the devotionals I read.
  1. Develop a scripture notebook. A mentor of mine encouraged me years ago to create a scripture notebook for each new season of life. This is as simple as heading to your local dollar store and buying a small notebook. (I like the ones that are spiral-bound notecards.) Then begin writing down Bible verses that contain words to remember in your present season. I found meaningful scriptures that provided hope, courage, faith and comfort for my journey. I read these scriptures and worked to memorize them when I felt weak or alone.

 

  1. Get out into God’s Creation. God meets me in nature. A walk in the park, a day at the ocean, a hike in the mountains, the petals of a perennial freesia pushing through the hard earth, a pine tree pointing toward the heavens – all of these remind me that God is in control and He is in the business of bringing beauty from ashes. My girls are used to me pulling over to the side of the road whenever God starts painting the sky at sunset. There is something about this spectacular color show each night that brings me a profound sense of wonder and comfort.

These next five ideas are more practical ways to nourish your body and mind:

  1. Drink more water. Tears are a natural part of the grief journey. I cried a lot after my husband died. It was also important to me to grieve and lament through tears with my children. One article notes that excessive amounts of stress hormone and cortisol are produced in grief and crying. This makes it difficult to sleep and concentrate. Drinking more water can help flush away the toxins and replenish us when we feel like we are in a fog.
  1. Give yourself permission to nap. I had a difficult time sleeping at night, especially right after my husband’s death. I felt his absence the most when I was climbing into bed alone. I was often filled with anxiety about being the only adult in the house to protect my children. I learned over time how important it was to give myself permission to nap. The National Sleep foundation says even 20-30-minute naps can improve mood, alertness and performance. It was difficult at first, but over time I learned to relax for short amounts of time, and it helped me feel less exhausted by my grief.
  1. Exercise regularly. Exercise benefits the brain by increasing blood flow and helping a person focus. Grief often leads us to headaches, fatigue, insomnia, sickness, loss of appetite and other physical symptoms. Researchers say regular exercise can help relieve many of these physical symptoms. You might consider joining a gym or a running group or a local yoga studio to make exercise part of your self-care rhythm. That first year I signed up to run a half marathon with friends.
  1. Discover a new hobby. Trying out new activities during a grief process can also be therapeutic. I have one widow friend who started playing hockey. Another found joy in hiking. Another started painting. Another went back to school. After my husband’s death, I joined a group of mama friends who like to trail run. The combination of being out in nature and taking on a trail with lots of varied terrain provided an important outlet. I find that running is therapeutic for me. I have time to process my grief apart from my children while running.
  1. Schedule quality time with friends. Perhaps one of the biggest challenges after my husband’s death was fighting feelings of loneliness. I am grateful for a handful of friends who stepped into the awkwardness and spent time with me while I was grieving. I encourage you to plan regular outings with friends you trust. A coffee date, dinner out or a movie can serve as a good space to help process grief with others. It was always worth the extra effort to find a babysitter for my kids.

I have found over the last four years that returning to this list of soul care and self-care practices has helped me steer clear of some of the unhealthy habits that often emerge during grief. It’s easy as widows and mothers to put our own needs as secondary to our family’s needs. We have to be intentional to carve out time to restore our souls, bodies and minds.

I am often comforted by Jesus’ example of taking time to weep with his grieving friends and resting in the Father’s arms. His words in Matthew 11:28 took on new meaning for me on the grief journey. He says, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” These words continue to remind me that I am not meant to carry this grief alone.

This list is certainly not exhaustive. I would love to hear from you in the comments. What are some of the soul care and self-care practices that have helped you on your grief journey? 

Part of this essay was taken from Flourishing Together, a new 6-week Bible study just released on Amazon. If you would like to discover how to flourish by God’s design after loss, please check out the study and consider joining the Flourishing Together collective group on Facebook:

**black and white version

*full-color version

This article gives practical ideas for soul care and self-care for widows and others grieving. Resource links included. www.DorinaGilmore.com.

*The above article does include Amazon affiliate links. If you purchase through these links, the author does gain a small percentage at no additional cost the buyer. Thank you for supporting the costs of www.DorinaGilmore.com in this way.

Podcast: A conversation about “Chasing Rest”

Posted by | behold, margin, parenting, podcast, rest, schedule, Stories | No Comments

One of my favorite places to go on a late summer night is Moravia Winery – just a short drive from our home in Fresno, California. Somehow even when it’s scorching outside, it’s a few degrees cooler out at the winery. My kids love to play wild and free with their friends on the pirate ship play structure. Some of the daddies play bocce ball.

We lounge on picnic blankets and share goodies. They often have a live band playing music and a food truck selling burritos or a vendor serving up fancy cupcakes. As the sun lies down for the evening, ribbons of color dance beyond the rows and rows of vines dripping with grapes.

Of course, if you drive out to this winery during the winter months, you will witness a different scene from the flourishing vines of late summer/early fall. Mysterious fog often seeps in late at night and early in the mornings. The vines are pruned back, standing stark against the winter sky. They have traded green leaves and lush grapes for gnarly and naked vines. This season in the vine’s life is called dormancy, the resting period before new growth.

Rest is necessary not just in the cycle of the grape’s life but also in our human lives. Rest refreshes the mind, body and spirit. And yet, our American culture lies to us about rest. We are led to believe: time is money; those who multitask best are the most productive; and there is no time for rest.

Choosing to rest is challenging with three growing girls who are creative and ambitious.  They are wired like their mama, who loves to fill the calendar squares and jump into new opportunities too. Whenever I see our schedule is squeezed too tight or we are running from one activity to the next, I try to remind myself of the grape vines out at the winery in winter. A season of rest is important for growth. It’s a time when God does special work underground. Once the vines have rested, tiny buds of green appear in spring. And eventually, the vines are lush and heavy with fruit once again.

 

Kindred Mom just released a new podcast episode where my friend Emily Allen and I talk about this concept of “chasing rest.” To read the full original essay I wrote on this topic, click the link below.  

Chasing Rest

 

Transitions: Leaving space for the grief and the glory

Posted by | back to school, family life, kids, parenting, relationships, rest, schedule, Stories, transitions | 2 Comments

On Sunday evening, we rolled into town after a glorious day relaxing at the lake with family and friends. This was the grand finale to our 12 weeks of summer fun.

We packed these weeks with Track & Field camp, travel to San Diego and Haiti, sleepovers with Grandma, staying up late if we felt like it, days for lounging and days for chasing adventure in our own city with friends.

My oldest piped up in the back seat. “Mom, I don’t think I have any shorts to wear to school tomorrow.”

Mind you, I started sorting and gathering school clothes several weeks earlier. I tried not to shout. “What?!” I screamed.

“Remember, those ones you ordered don’t fit,” came her response. We both started to panic. “I think I need a shirt too,” said my middle daughter. We redirected the car toward the nearest Target for a late night shopping trip. In a more perfectly-planned world, I would have been putting my three lovelies to bed at that exact moment, but that’s not how we roll.

Let the transition back to school begin.

This time of year always necessitates transitions of many kinds. Whether it’s transitioning to the new school schedule, starting a new leadership position or stepping down from one, jumping into that new sports season or concluding our time with a group, change is inevitable.

The longer I live the more I’m realizing the time we spend transitioning from one thing to the next is not as rare as we would like it to be. We live in transition all the time.

We talk about making smooth transitions but what does that really mean?

We can grit our teeth and brace ourselves for the change or we can breathe through it.

I remember when I was birthing my middle daughter I had an amazing midwife. She taught me the art of breathing through the contractions. I still use that breathing technique today when I’m running or just calming my spirit in a stressful situation.

In the birthing process, the time we call “transition” is the most intense. Contractions generally come quickly one right after the other. The baby begins to descend into the mama’s pelvis ready to be pushed out into the world. It’s a time of pain dancing with anticipation.

Our human instinct is to clench our fists, tense our muscles (and our hearts) and reject transition as something foreign, an unwelcome time, that thing that surely will break us. What would happen if we leaned into the transition instead? What if we breathed through the contractions, the painful moments? What if we embraced all that a transition has to offer?

On Monday morning, I dropped off all three of my girls – now a sixth grader, third grader and kindergartener – at school together. There were throngs of parents taking pictures of their kids in front of the school. I noticed several of my mama friends who had a spring in their step and that unmistakable look in their eyes – freedom!

One friend met me at my car. We took a few minutes to catch up on the summer events. Our youngest girls are in the same morning kinder class now. We acknowledged that transitions like these are bittersweet. Although both of our girls are eager for a new school and fresh start, they both had tears the night before over some losses.

My baby girl was eager to spread her “ready confetti” – a special gift from her new teacher – under her pillow. She slipped into bed and then began weeping uncontrollably for her daddy in Heaven. Something triggered for her that he was not here to see her off on this big day.

This reminded me that each new season brings a tinge of grief and a taste of glory. New seasons sometimes trigger memories of our losses but also are pregnant with hope for the future. We have to embrace both to step forward.

Perhaps the hardest transition of my life was the day after my husband’s funeral. Some of my friends took the girls and me to the ocean. I stood there with foamy waves crashing over my feet. I thought maybe I could stand there forever just letting the grief wash over me.

After a while I had a strange realization. He was no longer living but I had to keep on living. I had the rest of my life before me. I had these girls to raise in his legacy.

Most importantly, I had a choice – to live in the past or to step forward into the future trusting God to lead me. I had to embrace the transition. I had to give myself space to grieve, and I had to step forward in faith one day at a time.

The other day I was reading in the book of Haggai. Admittedly, I haven’t spent much time in that book of the Bible but I found myself comforted by the words Joshua receives from God about rebuilding the temple. His words through prophecy in Haggai 2:4-9 are to “be strong” and “work.” The promise is God will “be with” Joshua and the people in the transition, in the rebuilding process.

Of course, it’s important to note that the new glory to come was not just a physical building but Jesus Christ himself, the embodiment of glory.

I am reminded that it’s ok to reminisce about the “glory days” but then we need to step courageously toward a new glory.

Friend, if you find yourself smack in the middle of a transition today, press in, be strong and work. The Lord is right there with you. And He’s right here with me.

 

**If you’re interested in reading more about what it means to be a Glory Chaser, check out this post and my new Glory Chasers bible study here.

Chasing Rest

Posted by | family life, flourishing, margin, parenting, rest, schedule, self-care, Stories, transitions | 2 Comments

 

One of my favorite places to go on a late summer night is Moravia Winery – just a short drive from our home in Fresno, California. Somehow even when it’s scorching outside, it’s a few degrees cooler out at the winery. My kids love to play wild and free with their friends on the pirate ship play structure. Some of the daddies play bocce ball.

We lounge on picnic blankets and share goodies. They often have a live band playing music and a food truck selling burritos or a vendor serving up fancy cupcakes. As the sun lies down for the evening, ribbons of color dance beyond the rows and rows of vines dripping with grapes.

Of course, if you drive out to this winery during the winter months, you will witness a different scene from the flourishing vines of late summer/early fall. Mysterious fog often seeps in late at night and early in the mornings. The vines are pruned back, standing stark against the winter sky. They have traded green leaves and lush grapes for gnarly and naked vines. This season in the vine’s life is called dormancy, the resting period before new growth.

Rest is necessary not just in the cycle of the grape’s life but also in our human lives. Rest refreshes the mind, body and spirit. And yet, our American culture lies to us about rest. We are led to believe: time is money; those who multitask best are the most productive; and there is no time for rest.

The Bible tells us just the opposite.

In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus leans in and shares these words with the crowd: “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” Jesus speaks of a different kind of yoke. His yoke is made with grace, love and forgiveness – so different from the yokes we mamas often hoist up on our tired shoulders. Our yokes are too often marked by guilt, striving, and perfectionism.

{For the rest of my article, click over here at Kindred Mom today. I’m grateful they are hosting my words.}

 

**Interested in more articles on the theme of rest and creating margin? Check them out here.

**I send out a weekly note of encouragement with recommendations, recipes and more. Join me here for Glorygrams .

 

 

Farewell, old friend: When forty is the new thirty

Posted by | behold, brave, community, courage, creativity, death, family life, finishing well, flourishing, friendship, gifts, grief, hope, individuality, inspirational, kids, laughter, One Word, parenting, passion, relationships, rest, Stories, transitions | 4 Comments

 

This week I said goodbye to a good friend. She’s the friend who has walked with me through some of my greatest joys – the birth of two of my baby girls, finding my sweet spot in ministry, and learning a new language. She’s gone with me to book signings and baby showers. We have laughed until our bellies ached and sang together at the top of our lungs.

She’s also that friend who journeyed with me through the darkest days. She was there when he lost his job and Christmas was just around the corner. She was there when we were just scraping by, trying to raise a family. She was there when we received his cancer diagnosis. She stood with me by the graveside and sat by me when I wept and wailed my “whys” and “how comes” to God and the stars.

She’s been a faithful friend. She’s taught me how to love my body and stand firm in my convictions. She’s helped me to feel confident standing on a stage and mothering my three unique children. She’s the one who taught me how to let go of pretense and perfection.

Farewell, Thirties. Oh, how I will miss you.

I have a new friend now. I don’t like to replace people but it’s kind of turning out that way. Last Saturday we toasted my new friend with a full house and music spilling into our yard on Backer Avenue. We served up Indian food and delectable desserts. And my new friend swept into my life with a new haircut and a promise of new adventures to come.

Some people have jokingly called her my “mid-life friend.” I know better. I know she could be gone tomorrow.

She told me we have a blank canvas before us and handed me a paint brush. I pulled a new painter’s palette and basket of paints from that gift bag she brought. I don’t know how she knew I needed this. It’s like she read my journal or eavesdropped on my early-morning, whispered prayers.

“It’s time,” she said.

“Time for what?” I quizzed.

But I knew. I knew she was saying it’s time to remake myself.

It’s time to embrace all my old friend taught me and let go of the mistakes we made together. It’s time to stop worrying about pleasing people and start sharing this gorgeous glory story God has given me.

It’s time to move forward.

It’s time to give myself permission to rediscover, to explore, to celebrate, to rest and to remake me.

My new friend said I can run marathons, travel to new lands, jump into a new career, discover new adventures with my girls, dance wild and free with my new husband, and every once in a while linger over the memories of another life, another decade.

Hello, Forties. It’s so very good to meet you.

And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” ~Revelation 21:5

 

 

Would you like to read more about what I learned in my thirties decade?

Check out these blogs: 

Learning to flourish through the seasons

Personal Sabbath: How training for a marathon taught me to rest

Grieving Together

Posted by | death, family life, grief, kids, rest, self-care, Stories, struggle, transitions, Uncategorized | No Comments

 

Just in the nick of time, I dropped off my older two daughters at elementary school before they were tardy, and then continued on to my youngest daughter’s preschool. Green, yellow…slow red. Green, yellow…slow red. I followed the rhythm of the stop lights as my 5-year-old sang at the top of her lungs in the backseat. I smiled as I listened to another one of her off-tune, made-up songs.

Then I leaned in to hear some of her lyrics: “My daddy is in heaven. His leg was hurt. We need to pray for him. He’s with God,” she chirped. “I miss my dadddddddy.”

“What are you singing about, baby?” I asked her, trying to be nonchalant. It had been several months since she mentioned her daddy, who died from cancer two and a half years earlier. We pulled into the preschool parking lot. I reminded myself not to panic but to let her process.

“I’m singing about my daddy in Heaven,” she informed me.

“You know, he has a new body in Heaven now,” I said gently. “He doesn’t have that big tumor on his leg anymore.” Her face lit up with a smile, “Really?! I can’t wait to see him again.”

These conversations have become normal life for us now. Never in a million years did I imagine I would be helping my children navigate the death of their father at such a young age. If you would have asked me a half dozen years ago, I would have told you that skill just wasn’t in my wheelhouse. Then again, isn’t mothering about rising daily to learn new skills and praying regularly for God to cover our shortcomings?

Every day without my husband I am reminded of two things: every grief journey is unique and God intends to use our story for His glory.

My 5-year-old used to cry at night for her daddy. She just couldn’t understand why he wasn’t coming back. Now she soothes herself with made-up songs and imaginative play. My now 8-year-old tends to mourn her dad in meltdowns and tantrums. I’ll find her in a heap on the floor after I’ve asked her to clean her room or something’s gone wrong at school. I’ll think she’s crying about one thing, and then she tells me, “I just miss my daddy.”

My oldest, now 10 years old, likes to take care of everyone else. I will rarely see her cry but she does tell me when she’s sad. She decorates her room with pictures of her dad. She loves watching old videos of him. This is what grieving and remembering looks like for her.

Dealing with grief in motherhood is tricky. I have my own journey and soul to tend to, and then I have to navigate the emotions of my unique daughters. This can be overwhelming at times.

I have learned it’s important to give ourselves permission to grieve. It’s important for us as mothers to cry with our children. When my husband first died, I found great encouragement in the story of Lazarus’ death.

John 11:33 gives flesh to this story: Mary was grieving the loss of her brother, and “when Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews, who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled…Jesus wept.”

I love the way Jesus enters in. He doesn’t try to shut them down or offer a quick one-liner to make Mary feel better. This gives me permission to grieve and cry with my kids. I can show them tears are normal and welcome on our grief journey.

I have also learned to embrace the questions. Kids will naturally ask a lot of questions. My girls watched their dad’s health decline very quickly as the cancer spread throughout his body. He was an athlete and a coach, who was very involved in their lives. They felt the contrast. They saw how he suffered.

They had lots of questions about daddy’s cancer. I let my kids know I didn’t have all the answers but took them on a treasure hunt through the Bible to find what it said about our questions. We read books on Heaven together. We imagined what Daddy might be doing in Heaven today. We prayed and asked God about our questions.

Although I was hesitant at first to venture out without my husband, my daughters and I planned some road trips after his death. We made new memories. This time away from our home was crucial. We needed space to recover from the trauma of his sickness.

That first year, I also needed some time away from my kids and my mama duties to grieve. I am grateful for dear friends who took me on trips to the ocean, while grandparents watched my kids. I journaled; I ran next to the crashing waves; I prayed and cried. I know that time was important for my own healing.

Our human instinct is to avoid the pain and memories. I’ve discovered when I try to avoid the memories, they sneak up on me anyway. Now I lean into the anniversaries, the holidays, the memories with my kids.

We celebrate the day my husband graduated to Heaven in unique ways. We call it his Heaveniversary. This past year, we took a picnic to the cemetery with my mother-in-law and told stories. That evening we invited a group of his best friends to dinner. I asked everyone to share something about his character. My girls even participated. We shed some tears, but there was also laughter in remembering his quirks and endearing qualities.

As moms, we don’t experience the hard life stuff in isolation. How we grieve is interwoven with our family life and affects our littles. To me, this is what flourishing in motherhood looks like: it’s learning to take life’s trials and redeem them for God’s glory and for our family’s good. The way I see it, we can try to shelter our children from death or we can model how to grieve with hope.

 

{For the original publication of this article, click over here to Kindred Mom. I am so honored to be a featured writer on their site.}

 

**I created a special resource for navigating grief with kids. Get your copy here.

**If you would like to read more about my grief journey, check out these articles.

 

Personal Sabbath: How training for a marathon taught me to rest

Posted by | finishing well, flourishing, grief, rest, running, self-care, Stories, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

 

I grew up in a house where we were constantly on the go. When I was in elementary school, my evenings were filled with piano lessons, soccer games, ballet and jazz dance classes, church youth group and more. As I entered junior high and high school, I added activities like newspaper, yearbook, Track & Field, and voice lessons. While I enjoyed all these activities, I remember we were always running, always pushing deadlines, always melting into bed at night exhausted. I am grateful for the many amazing opportunities my parents gave me but sometimes I wonder if it also was an inadvertent training to always chase busyness.

Rest is the way we detox from the busyness. If we have gone through a season of pruning, it may take some time to recalibrate. I found this to be true last summer after I pruned some big branches from my life. I felt like God was calling me to make space for some new goals. I stepped down from my position teaching at the university and leading the large moms group at my church. I said no to a bunch of invitations and new commitments. It was difficult to let go of these things that had become so much a part of my identity. I knew I needed rest and time to refocus.

At first, I didn’t know how to rest. I felt anxious and uncomfortable with the extra time in my schedule. I felt guilty for taking time to myself instead of working, serving or being with my family.

Then I learned a new rhythm of rest in an unexpected way. I signed up to run a marathon. I know what you’re thinking: running 26.2 miles is not resting. That’s mostly true.

I put together a training schedule with the help of my hubby-coach, who is also an endurance athlete. As I ran, I talked to God. I discovered the runs afforded me the time and space to grieve my losses and all I had pruned from my life. The miles were hard but they became a precious time of connecting with my Father. They were like a scheduled Daddy date.

I had one problem. I was training in the summer months in Fresno, California. The average daytime temperatures were in the triple digits. I don’t do well exercising when it’s that hot. I quickly discovered if I wanted to beat the heat, I had to wake up early!

Let’s just be clear: I am by nature a night owl.

In different seasons, I have trained myself to wake up early but I always feel like a night owl masquerading as an early bird. It’s not pretty.

The bonus: running taught me to rest. That combination of waking up early and running long miles left me naturally exhausted by the afternoon. I had to build naptime into my day or I would be a crabby mess by dinner time. (For those of you who have toddlers, you know exactly what I’m talking about).

My husband encouraged me that the rest was just as important as the runs because my body needed to recover. He explained that when we do a hard workout we are breaking down muscle. When we rest, the body has time to rebuild on a cellular level and the muscles are built up even stronger than before.

I started a resting hour with my kids (ages 4, 7 and 10 at the time). They were allowed to read books, color or sleep. The house was quiet. Mommy had permission to nap. When my husband got home from work, he would ask me about my day. He congratulated me when I told him I had napped. The first time he praised me for resting something inside me was surprised – even shocked. When my girls were younger, rest was so often sabotaged by one of them needing something. I often gave up. He was helping me retrain my brain and body to embrace the benefits of rest.

One of my favorite verses is Psalm 46:10: “Be still and know that I am God.” Those words have also challenged my attitude about rest. The command is to actually “be still” with our bodies and our minds. My husband coached me that even just laying down and not moving can be a resting state.

At first when I tried to nap, my mind would race all over the place. I would craft to-do lists in my head. I would worry about things. I had to return to the words of Psalm 46:10 and get in the habit of being still – both body and mind.

In her devotional, Flourish, Margaret Feinberg writes, “In resisting busyness, we can once again restake our claim as wholly loved by God and flourish in the joy of being his children. This frees us from the bondage of overproduction and liberates us; our hearts lie fallow to receive God’s goodness and grace.”

I challenge you to think about some ways you can resist busyness. What can you release from your schedule for this next season to make space for rest? Before you say yes to the next commitment, what can you say no to graciously?

We are led to believe: time is money; those who multitask best are the most productive; and there is no time for rest. The Bible tells us just the opposite. In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus leans in and shares these words with the crowd: “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

God is calling each one of us into sweet Sabbath rest. It’s the only way we will make it to the finish line without crashing and burning. Rest might look different for you than it does for me. You will need to work it out in your attitude, your schedule and your family context, but I do know that it involves turning down the noise around us and entering into His presence.  I invite you to a place of rest this week so you can abide in the Vine. Rest is a gift from a Good Father who longs to see us flourish.

 

*I send out a weekly email with words of encouragement, free resources, recipes and recommendations. I would love to slip this into your inbox. Sign up here.

**Check out more posts on the theme of “flourishing” right here.

 

Flourishing Together is a new 6-week Bible study just released on Amazon. If you are interested in delving deeper into this topic of how God grows beautiful things out of the ashes and dirt of our life, please check out the study:

**black and white version

*full-color version

 

 

 

(Featured photo credit: Captivating Sports Photos)

When your morning feels stressful, start with music {and a free playlist!}

Posted by | discipline, fear, inspirational, rest, self-care, Stories, worship | 3 Comments

 

About a year ago I was struggling with how to spend my time in the morning. I got in this rhythm where the first thing I did was reach for my phone and start scrolling through social media. One thing would lead to the next. I would read an article here, a post there. I would start a conversation with a friend about that cute kid picture she posted on Instagram or my heart would get all worked up about that political meme I saw on Facebook.

Before I knew it, more than an hour had passed and little people were crawling into my room. The day was sucking me in. I felt crabby because I didn’t have any time to quiet my soul, to read my Bible, to connect with God. I knew I had to make a change. I was squandering my time, and it was affecting my attitude.

That’s when I decided to create a Morning Worship playlist. I longed for a new rhythm, a new way to start my day. I wanted to get back to seeing God’s glory from the moment I woke up.

I am that girl who had a different sound track for every season of life. If I hear U2 or Sade or Amy Grant or Miles Davis, I can conjure up memories of another place and another time in my life. I grew up making those mix tapes on my little boom box in the ‘80s and burning CDs in the ‘90s. I was always working to assemble that just-right blend of tunes.

In 2014, I discovered Spotify. If you’ve never used Spotify before, it’s a free music app or site where you can make your own music playlists or listen to what others have compiled. Yes, this is the 2017 version of those mix tapes I used to make. I fell in love. (I even splurge for the premium account now so I don’t have to listen to commercials.)

I needed music in 2014 more than any other year. I remember those days vividly. Each morning before school, I urged my three girls to kiss their daddy one more time. We would pile in the family Highlander with our usual mess of backpacks, coats and lunches. I often choked back the tears, wondering if this would be their last goodbye. As the cancer continued to spread through his body, I had to juggle “normal” mama duties and being his caretaker.

The only thing that would lift me from the horror of each day was worship music.

On the drive back to our house from school drop offs, I would blast my music. The lyrics washed over me, lifting me, guiding me home. I poured my heart out to God in song. And He met me there.

I learned to redefine worship in that season. Music was not just playing in the background. It was my guide taking me to God in the darkest moments.

One of my favorite examples of how God uses music to bring healing in the Bible is in 1 Samuel 16. King Saul was tormented by an evil spirit that filled him with fear. His servants suggested looking for someone to play the lyre. They understood the power of music to calm the soul. They recruited a young man named David.

I Samuel 16:23 says, “And whenever the harmful spirit from God was upon Saul, David took the lyre and played it with his hand. So Saul was refreshed and was well, and the harmful spirit departed from him” (ESV).

I recently read an article that talked about the neuroscience behind listening to music. The article said a single song can reduce anxiety up to 65 percent. Music has the power to calm our nervous system.

In this age of unprecedented stress in our jobs, swirling politics, chaos in our country, tension online between friends and in communities, we need to develop habits to start our day with our Creator who holds all things in His hands.

My challenge to myself and to you in 2017 is to start each morning with music. I’ve curated a FREE music playlist for my readers to get started. Try listening to just two worship songs each morning. Meditate on the words. Let them lead you into prayer or Bible study.

***

I hear the alarm ring out in the darkness. I lean over to turn it off and press play on my Morning Worship playlist. As my body and my mind are still waking up, the music dances through my room. I take in the truths of the lyrics. I pray. I open my Bible.

It’s a habit now.

This is the way I pivot toward God each morning instead of being sucked into the chaos of social media and the to-do list. This is the way I center myself. When dawn’s light slips into my bedroom window, I am ready for a new day.

Cover yourself with grace and join me.

 

Ready to start a new morning rhythm and start your day with music? I’d love to send you my specially-curated FREE Morning Worship playlist. You can try it out and then create your own!

Photo by Leio McLaren from Unsplash

Learning to Flourish through the Seasons (and the big reveal of my 2017 One Word)

Posted by | behold, death, flourishing, grief, margin, rest, running, self-care, Stories, struggle, transitions, Uncategorized, writing | 6 Comments

 

For me, 2016 started with fireworks. On January 16, Shawn and I celebrated our wedding – a true redemption story after losing my beloved Ericlee to cancer in 2014. That year was a journey of finding God’s glory even in the darkest hours. Then 2015 was a year to redeem, to witness God bringing new value to all that had been broken and lost for our family. As I stood at the altar with my bridegroom, surrounded by more than 500 friends and family, I felt like I was stepping into a new and spacious garden ready to bloom. I was eager to flourish.

I chose FLOURISH as my One Word to focus on for 2016. At the start, flourish sang to me of bright colors and new beginnings. The dictionary tells me that flourish is a verb, meaning to thrive; to grow luxuriantly; to be in one’s prime; to be at the height of fame, influence, success; to prosper. I marched into 2016 with a spirit of newfound joy and fierce hope.

Of course, just as in past years, I had no idea how that one word would shape me, challenge me, break me and remake me from the inside out.

A few months into 2016, I started to feel overwhelmed. I had way too much on my plate. I was still leading in several large capacities, while adding a new husband, new family situation and a giant new speaking/writing project to my list. Something had to give. In a conversation on one of our regular date nights, my hubby gently suggested I clear my plate of commitments so I could really focus on the new projects God was calling me to.

I balked.

Clear everything from my plate at one time? Who does that? I loved everything I was involved in. Every piece felt important and meaningful. What could I possibly get rid of or step down from? They needed me, right? I hemmed and hawed. I strategized about ways I could keep certain things and be more efficient with my time.

One afternoon, I overheard my mother-in-law giving my middle daughter a lesson in keeping roses. The two of them were on the front patio of our new home with huge garden clippers. I saw the sad state of our rose bushes. The one in the middle had two thick, root branches that were so heavy they were making the whole bush topple forward. As Grandma directed, my 7-year-old went to work pruning branches. Even some of the prettiest roses on the bush had to be clipped for the good of the entire bush.

The lesson was not lost on me. I knew deep in my heart it was time to prune.

These familiar words echoed in my heart: “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes that it may bear more fruit.” (John 15: 2-3, ESV).

Did you catch that? It doesn’t say he leaves the branches that are thriving, the biggest branches, the ministries that look the most successful, the activities that bring in the most people or seem to depend the most on you. The verse says every branch – even the ones bearing fruit – must be pruned.

Hadn’t I already learned enough about pruning? After all, in the past year and half I had sacrificed my husband to cancer, my position working for a non-profit in Haiti, several circles of friends, and so many of my life-long dreams for our family. Letting go of those things was excruciating. Why would God ask me to give up more?

This time it was about obedience. Looking back, I know He was asking me to let go of some good things that had become so big in my life they defined me. These were the thickest branches of my rose bush weighing me down. He wanted me to lean into His present calling on my life so my identity was re-defined in Him.

This spring I surrendered my teaching job at the university. I passed on my role leading a thriving moms group (MOPS) at our church. I stepped out of some other community groups and said no to a bunch of invitations to speak and attend events that had become regular on my calendar through the years.

At first, it was much harder than I thought it would be. I thought I could just move on to the next thing but I discovered even when God prunes us for the good we need to give ourselves time to grieve. I missed the communities and circles of friends. I missed the sense of purpose I had felt in those spaces.

I also discovered something scary about myself. I didn’t know how to rest.

After more than a decade operating a non-profit with my husband and working in highly-demanding leadership and ministry places, I didn’t know how to sit in the quiet. In those months, my branches felt naked, bare, no sign of green or color. I had to learn to wait and listen and trust.

During the summer, I chose to focus on a few things to nourish my soul and my body. I chose to read more books and signed up to run a full marathon. This was important not just to fill the time but to deliberately and intentionally take time to learn and be quiet. As I logged lots of miles and hours, I started to feel alive again. Especially when I was running, I carved out time to listen and pour out my heart to God. And when I would come home from long runs, I was exhausted and ready to rest. Naps were unapologetically part of my day.

Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. (John 4:13-14, ESV)

Like my thirsty rose bushes, my soul needed water. I needed to let this living water seep deep into my soul soil and nourish my roots. For years, I had only afforded myself quick drinks at the drinking fountain. This summer I drank deeply from the well. I gave myself permission to rest, to run with my Father and spend time investing in my husband and daughters. That nourishing phase was important to helping me recalibrate my heart and all of us to bond as a family.

When September rolled around, our family rhythm changed again. My girls went back to school and for the first time in more than a decade I had at least three full days a week to focus on my writing. For years I had dreamed of this time but it was finally here, and it felt revolutionary somehow. I had the time to work on editing and sending out several of the children’s book manuscripts I had written. I also had brain space to work on a bigger book and bible study project.

One day as I was slipping in our front door, I stopped in my tracks before the rose bushes. Huge pink blooms the size of my 5-year-old’s head were on multiple branches. I had never seen roses this big. We clipped half a dozen to put in a spacious, glass vase on our dining room table – a reminder that God often allows us to bloom in unexpected ways in His perfect timing.

In November, I received an email from a children’s book agent that she was interested in representing my work. Then I heard from another and another agent. After 10 years of receiving rejection letters and wading through the discouragement of having so little time to devote to my writing, I had choices. For such a time as this I am stepping into a new season of writing, publishing and sharing my stories for His glory.

This fall, Shawn and I also signed up to help coach the cross country team at our daughters’ school. We decided this was something we could invest in as a family and could provide a door for us to develop relationships with more families in our school community. Just before Christmas we hosted an end-of-season celebration at our house. As kids jumped on the trampoline in the yard and the kitchen and dining room were spilling with parents and coaches, I felt a deep joy welling up inside. I flushed with the color of this new garden we found ourselves flourishing in.

If I had not gone through the process of pruning, resting and nourishing, I might not have the chance to experience these surprising blooms.

I am returning tonight to the words of John 15, this time in verse 8: “By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples” (ESV).

In a year’s time God has taught me much about the process of flourishing. I cannot become a flourishing garden overnight. In fact, I have to prepare myself to be pruned in every area at one time or another. And most importantly, I need to cultivate my time to have space to help others flourish so my Father – the Master Gardener – can be glorified. I know the process of flourishing will circle back around. He will continue to ask me to prune, rest, nourish and bloom in various seasons.

I am looking to 2017 with expectancy.  My One Word chosen for 2017 is BEHOLD. This word has allured me for a few months now. I believe it is about BEing, pausing and living present in His presence. I know it’s about allowing Him to HOLD me close, to hold still and to savor each moment. I’ve already started a treasure hunt through the Bible. I’ve discovered that word BEHOLD is used in many ways. Most prominently, it’s used as a call to fix our eyes upon, to observe with care, and to reflect God’s glory. Sounds like the perfect banner to hold boldly overhead as I enter into 2017.


What are some of your reflections on 2016? Have you chosen One Word for 2017? Please comment below and start the conversation.