Another Sunday

You know, right now I am tired. (And so, apparently, is Grantopatomus.)

Sundays are exhausting. 

The babies wouldn't eat their special Sunday banana-chocolate-peanut butter muffins. My shirt was wrinkled. My kitchen looks like a well-intentioned bowling ball tried to make lunch.

Sundays are fun. 

I pounded my way through the worship set today. My son told me that salmon and alfredo pasta was yummy. I was encouraged as I chit-chatted and prayed with my sisters in Christ. 

And in this swirl of exhaustion and fun, I'm reminded why. 

Psalm 116:16-17 O Lord, I am your servant; I am your servant, the son of your maidservant. You have loosed my bonds. I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving and call on the name of the Lord. 

God is my master. He has the right to ask for my service. Sometimes that's exhausting. 

But he has freed me. So I stand forgiven and thankful. And that is fun. 

Happy Sunday. 

Transluscent Beauty

It was six a.m.

I was barely coherent.

But as I leaned my fuzzy eyesight closer to the mirror, I saw them.

A myriad of channels, working their way across my face, from my eyes down into my cheeks. A preview of what's to come.

Gasping, I smeared lotion on my face and then looked again. They were a little smaller, but they were there.

I've resigned myself (in holier moments) to the deep grooves on my forehead (it's not fun when worry marks itself permanently on your face, even when the sin is long gone), and I had noticed that my healthy eating post-baby hadn't resulted in the quick body-bounce-back that it once would have. But let's be honest, they were just two little worry wrinkles, and I never had what could be labelled a "slammin' bod."

So, I was okay with it.

But for some reason, on this morning, as I looked down at my chipped, blue nail polish, a sink full of beauty products, and the newly constructed "age canals" that were working their way down my cheeks, it hit me.

It's going away.

I never imagined myself a knock-out. But youth was always in my favor. Sure, I may not be gorgeous, but my skin was smooth and my hair grew crazy fast, and my energy levels were through the roof.

That's all leaving.

And while I'm not horribly crushed to see my twenties disappear in the rear-view window, I realized that I'm creeping steadily towards the true test of beauty.

My spirit.

I was warned about this... I'm not supposed to rely on creams and accessories and a fantastic hair-do, I can chase all the fads, the perky cheeks and the perfect body, they're not going to last. The world will tell me beauty satisfies, that each new treatment can return youth, but they're lying. Crazy, big, fat lies.

Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,

And even if they could promise eternal youth and beauty, that's not what I'm supposed to be chasing... I'm supposed to be manicuring myself with grace, clothing myself in gentleness, styling a soul of quietness.

And if you think obtaining a perfect coif is tricky, try grooming a soul...

Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear— but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit

As my outsides breakdown, wear out, and wrinkle up, I have a chance to see what's been going on inside. And God has a way of creating a gorgeous, translucent beauty. There is a beauty that shines through the wrinkles, the tired eyes, and the bigger-than-size-6 body.

It's the beauty of a woman who in God's sight is very precious. 

And just as the beautiful outfit, the manicured hands, and the perfect hair are testaments to the hard work and diligence of their wearer, so the works of the soul will be paraded for all the world to see. Youth covers a multitude of soul flaws. Perhaps this is why God makes us most beautiful when our hearts are least groomed. But as the "beauty" begins to dissipate, the soul is brought to the front.

Now, I'm still slathering on anti-wrinkle cream (and some of you older ladies want to laugh at me for my wrinkle phobias... trust me. I would mock me, too), but I know that the days are drawing me closer to the test of true beauty.

Give her of the fruit of her hands,

    and let her works praise her in the gates.

And when the wrinkles are everywhere, and my body is falling apart, and my grandma-chicken arms are softer than my hair, I want to shine with the translucent, triumphing beauty of a woman who is precious in God's sight.

For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.
{I Samuel 16:7b}

My Sister Is Amazing {and other such sentiments}

During the month of February, Scott and I returned to Lafayette Indiana for the Biblical Counseling Training Conference.

Go to this.

No. Seriously.

It trumps a week on the Florida beaches and it will change your life.

Promise.

Go.

I mean, who doesn't want to hang out in Lafayette, Indiana in the dead of winter?

While we were there, I mooched off of my sister's amazing talent, and we had family pictures taken for the first time in 14 months. If Bets ever complains to you that she's not in the family pictures that are currently hanging around our home, please inform her that she was in those pictures. She was just in my uterus and hadn't made her formal debut into the world. BUT SHE IS IN THE PICTURES.

Okay. Kind of.

I got super-excited because of my radically inventive suggestion of taking the kiddies back to some of the sites where Scott and I had our engagement photos snapped almost exactly four years earlier. (My sister had already thought this. And she also had already come up with some additional cute ideas... so... Basically anything creative in the following shots is because of her amazing genius.)

All that to say, she's incredible. (Seriously: http://www.erikaaileen.com/)

Last time we stood there, we weren't "allowed" to kiss. We made up for that on this day!

I'm fairly confident we will always spend hours in bookstores as a family. We may be single-handedly keeping B&N afloat.

Mr. Grant loves running the aisles.

And Princess Bets is selecting her first journal.

These are the greatest children's books EVER. Hilariously simplified classics as board books. Here we are enjoying "Huckleberry Finn" while Bets lobbies for "Pride and Prejudice." hashtag: raisingthemright.

Precious.

So, Bets was a pickle this entire shoot. She had just come off a twelve hour car ride the day before, and was working her way into a stomach bug. But you would never know all that from these pictures. Seriously, my sister is amazing. Have I said that yet?

I can't believe this is my life. Delightful happiness!

Lil' ham. Loves the camera.

Bets' face. :)

My handsome men!

Exploring hot cocoa!

I don't know... it's like they're used to seeing their parents make out. ;)

Chuggin' the hot cocoa.

Like a man.

Which cracks Daddy up.

Thank you, Er!
The Allisons
2015
Bets {12 months}, Grant {26 months}

At The End of a Fast, The Beginning of A Storm {A Summation of 30 Days of Silence}

Thirty days ago, I decided to stop.

Stop Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Netflix, Hulu...

And I did.

And I walked into this self-induced silence, waiting to hear God speak.

And He did.

I can't tell you what that was like. I can try. But I won't be able to. It was like a secret, month-long rendezvous with my Savior.

And it was glorious.

But I also can't tell you how hard this was. Radical amputation hurts. Doing without comfort and ease hurts.

This was a beautiful month.

And (at the risk of boring you with another list!) here's what I'm thinking at the end...

1. My sin is horrible. Deep. Dark. Deceitful. And prolific. And if you clamp down in one area, it likes to squirt out of another. I wasn't flawless at this techy fast. I would sneak the occasional Netflix episode. I had a couple of sick days that drew me to Pinterest. And even when I was perfect on the tech fast, I would find some other way to express my craving for ease... an extra piece of chocolate, a nap, wearing sweatpants for the hundredth day in the row. (Not inherently sinful, but the way I was doing them. Yikes... I was substituting physical comfort for spiritual comfort. Not okay.)

2. I can justify anything. None of the things I abstained from were in and of themselves sinful. I wasn't cheating on my husband, lying to my friends, or neglecting my children. But they sapped a little joy, stole a little time, manipulated a few thoughts... and drew me away from filling my heart and mind with Christ. All the ways I cheated, or chose to sin since I didn't have my typical comfort crutches? They weren't inherently sinful either. They just were not best. But I let them slide.

3. GOD IS UNEXPLORABLE. I feel as though I know more of my Savior and God now than I did a month ago, and the largest thing I know is that I don't know anything. The depths of the riches of our God are unimaginable. We get to spend eternity discovering Him!

3. I didn't miss Facebook. Like, seriously, not at all. I missed Instagram. I missed Pinterest. I missed my daily Netflix dose while folding laundry. I did NOT miss Facebook. At all. I'll probably evaluate whether or not I'll keep it... but... Seriously. Instead of posting a status about the drama, just leave. There isn't even any drama on my Facebook news feed, and I still enjoyed the break.

4. God knew I would need this...

Here's the deal, on the very last day of my fast, our family was hit with some heavy news. We were hurt and wounded. And the repercussions will be around for a while. But God knew that this was coming! He spent an entire month drawing me closer to him, honing the disciplines of mental faithfulness, so that when this news hit my husband, I was able to pray truth with him. And the first place I wanted to run was to God. Not to my tired husband, but to my Savior. And I like to think I helped him run to Christ along with me. I had my God to cling to. I had practiced faithfully turning my mind to truth instead of worry. It was awesome!

I mean, seriously awesome.

No one wants trial and pain, but when it comes (and it will!), and it is met with the sufficiency of the scripture and the power of my God... WOW. IT IS AWESOME.

Like, I'm totally psyched right now. I wish this storm was done, but I am so excited that God is letting me see his character in technicolor right now.

And I wouldn't have been ready for that, without these past 30 days.

I am unbelievably blessed and thankful.

On a snowy Sunday...

Some truth...

The Rebel That Remains, The God Who Has Won

When a sister battles.

When a "peace singer" dies.

When your children harden their hearts.

When 21 men die for the cross.

When the world comes knocking at your door, with arms filled with hurt, ugliness, and violence...

You are going to cry.

Tears will fill your eyes. Your heart will ache. And your soul will cry out "why?"

No one told me that drawing closer to the heart of God would mean more tears. I thought of peace, joy, and rest. That has been true. But I didn't know that it would also mean deeper sorrow, grieving, and nights of sobbing.

You see, when I look more closely at my God, I see the permanence of joy, while also seeing the horror of sin. I pull around me my comforts... safety, warm dinners, quiet Sundays... and I insulate myself against the sin and suffering in my world. I expect to be rested and safe. Reading of suffering makes me uncomfortable.

And in this quiet cocoon of fragile, manufactured peace, I forget the terrors of the battle.

For a while.

And when it comes roaring in, back around me, shattering my attempts at control, what am I going to do?

You see, I can look out my front door and see terror, and in my ignorance, I think that's where it stays.

But inside my soul, the same evil resides.

I have been washed.

But I am still dirty.

I have been saved.

But I'm in a world of danger.

I have been clothed in beauty.

But my sin still clings to filthy nakedness.

Sin is a powerful, wicked, forceful presence. In our world. And in me. And as I've cried out for my God, as He has become more real... and so has the evil which foolishly tries to depose him.

And as I cry out to my God to deliver us, me, the world... He gently whispers, "I already have."

I want physical safety, earthly peace, a plethora of comforts.

He soothes my tears and says, "Dream bigger."

Because my deliverance has come.

Christ.

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

We are delivered. God has already won. The painful cuttings and whippings of the present evil age? It is only an outlawed rebel who has already lost the fight.

So, through my tears... To God be the glory forever and ever.

Amen.

My Fear, My Friends

Today I woke up from a nap (a Sunday nap, mind you, this qualifies as heaven in the napping world, I should awake beautifully content and rested, but instead...), I was anxious. Low-grade dread hung over my head, and I struggled to wake up and identify what it was.

Do you know what I'm talking about? A low-grade, nebulous, unidentifiable fear?

I had it.

I've actually had it a lot since becoming a stay-at-home mom. All the silence and free time opens me up to worry. Where my mind could be using this time for creativity and joy, it instead chooses to dwell on future (imaginary) trauma, horrible fear, and a low-grade sense of impending doom.

Here's a sample: as I'm waving good-bye to my hubby.... what if this is the last time I see him?... What if I'm left to raise these children alone?... What if I have to sell this house?... What if I have to move back to Indiana and find a job?... What will my children turn out like?... Will anyone ever love me again?... OH, MY WORD, I'M A SINGLE MOM OF TWO SMALL CHILDREN, LIVING IN MY PARENTS' BASEMENT, BARELY SCRAPING BY ON A PITTANCE OF A SALARY, WITH CHILDREN THAT WILL GROW UP TO OPENLY RESENT ME AND RUN AWAY FROM GOD WHILE I DIE ALONE AND UNLOVED.

Yeah. All this happens in my head while I'm waving goodbye. I single-handedly widdow, impoverish, and strip myself of all hope and joy in the short 60 seconds it takes my husband to drive out of view.

Basically, when I'm going through suffering, I'm freaked out, and when I'm brought to a place of relative rest and ease, I'm freaked out.

I'm constantly doubting my God, doubting his good gifts, and doubting my joy and security.

Over the past year, God has given me wonderful triumph in this area. I no longer have to consciously slow my breathing and repeat, "My God is good" as my husband drives away each morning.

But on some days, like today, there's a nebulous fear that is incredibly difficult to shake. Today it stemmed from a harmless comment and a fear about what someone was thinking of me. I did not know what they were thinking, but I guessed. I felt. I panicked.

And that's when I was so thankful for the people that God has placed in my life.

I am thankful for my mama. She planted the idea of daily dwelling on a different attribute of God and a corresponding verse.

I am thankful for a dear friend who is doing the verse activity along with me, and whose transparency in her own walk is encouraging to my soul.

I am thankful for a God who has so many amazing attributes that I couldn't narrow down my choice for today.

I'm thankful for the generous people that He has placed in my life. People who pray, give amazingly generous gifts, and who walk through terror and truth with me.

I'm thankful for these ladies...

The lovelies at my bachelorette party!

Whose hubbies walked through seminary with mine. These beautiful women who shared our time of preparation in humility and honesty. Ladies who welcomed me into the "Seminary Wives Club" with open arms and gentleness.

And who, twelve kids, two years, and 3 churches later, can still come together and talk honestly, encourage with truth, and laugh and cry. I'm so thankful for these iron-sharpening-iron friendships. These ladies don't lie or sugar-coat. Their transparency is never unduly raw or without purpose. Every single on of them shares struggles and triumphs through a lens of grace.

The mommies, wives, and friends. (Minus Tori!)

And so today, as I fought of irrational fear, I took up truth. And I was able to pick it up, in a large part, because of these encouragers that God has placed in my life. Let us never get distracted by things of earth and forget the One who created all the things. And may our friendships never sink to mindless sharing of little nothings. Because when we are honest and humble, we not only praise our Creator, but we encourage His daughters.

For this I am truly thankful.

Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! 

{Ecclesiastes 4:9,10}