Coming in out of the wind

It comes the very moment you wake up each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings; coming in out of the wind.

— C.S. Lewis (Mere Christianity)

As I step outside, the door slams open, wrenched out of my hand by the gust of warm wind whipping around the building. Electricity snaps in the air, causing my hair to fly around my face.

It wasn’t until I moved to Southern California, and experienced the Santa Ana winds, that I truly understood the power wind can wield. Tables and chairs skitter across our patio; wind chimes that normally create a fairy song in the breeze are hurriedly taken down before they blow away.

The wind literally takes my breath away with its wildness and ferocity; easily you can become disoriented and isolated.

My words have fallen flat for me these past couple of weeks. And I think that, right there, is the reason why…

M Y     W O R D S

I’ve had trouble hearing “that other larger, stronger, quieter” voice. There has been a myriad of voices, swirling around in my head, electrifying my fears, doubts and insecurities. Recognizing them for what they are, I’ve tried to take every thought captive, but like the wind

they seem overpowering and unrelenting.

Just as I push one away, another comes at me. Even the thought of asking for help, prayer, encouragement brings on a fresh onslaught. The worry that weariness will set in and rejection become the end result causes a pause that isolates.

And so on, all day, I shove back the wind. It slips through the cracks and holes, piling up grime and wreaking havoc. Slowly I tire of the battle, and long to give in, to let it whirl around me and cut me off with its force and roar.


Peter was afraid of the wind. He saw his Savior, stepped out in faith, and walked a little way.

Then the wind came.

Fear and doubt overwhelmed him, and he began to sink.

he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and took hold of him… {Matthew 14:30b-31a}

Therein lies my hope:

Peter walked on water.

Jesus took hold of him.

The wind may be rushing around me, but that means I’m walking the path of obedience.

And, all I need to do is call out, “Lord, save me,” to find His strong hand holding me.

Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who hope in the LORD. {Psalm 31:24}

Resting in Him is like coming in out of the wind…

How are you finding your hope in God today?



A Hope Deferred: Ungrind

At 38 weeks and 6 days I felt anxious to see my baby. Although most women don’t feel overdue until after their 40th week, this was my fourth child and in the three previous pregnancies the baby had come at 38 weeks. I had never made it to my due date in the past. So although I wasn’t even close to being “technically” past due, I felt that my due date had come and gone. And isn’t that what it all comes down to: experience and expectation?

My experience with pregnancy had told me that I should have a newborn at that point. The sleepless nights I experienced should have been due to middle of the night feedings instead of frequent trips to the restroom. The aches and pains were supposed to be those of recent delivery, and not the seemingly ceaseless contractions I was experiencing.

Experience and expectation had let me down. I was left, floating along, knowing that the outcome would be the same, but somehow different. I would still have a newborn child, but the situation was one I had not anticipated. What if I went past my actual due date? The waiting was unforeseen.

Six days might not seem like a lot of difference to some, but each one had passed with a thud for me. Each day was full of moments that caused me to think, Is that a sign that it’s time? Is something wrong? Should I be doing more to make it happen?

Not only was I left with a sense of frustration that things hadn’t worked out how I thought they would, I somehow felt like a failure. Like if I would have tried harder my experience and expectations would have been realized.

Something inside me whispered that this had to do with more than my eagerness to see my unborn child and be done with the discomfort of pregnancy.


Today I’m posting over at about hope, feeling heartsick and trusting in God.

I’d love for you to join me there!

And I know I’ve been absent from here for the past couple of days…

I promise I have some good stuff coming this week, but I’m still processing it all!


courtesy of

I bought my kids piggy banks. This way they can store up their pennies, nickels, and dimes for the future.

Tucked away in the dark, the coins accumulate and wait for a future day when they will be redeemed for toys or candy.

I have a piggy bank, too. Mine isn’t full of copper and silver; mine’s full of dreams.

I slip them, one by one, into the slot for that someday in the future when they will be used.

Occasionally I take them out and count them, marveling over their potential. Then back into the jar they go.

This way they’re safe; nothing can ruin them.

Not ridicule.

Not fear.

Not failure.

God wants to smash my piggy bank.

He wants to show me the dreams He has stored up for me; dreams that show how stale and insignificant my dreams are.

Dreams that are immeasurably more…

Because my dreams are all for me, and His dreams are for the good of all.

**Check out the other posts on Brokenness @ Bridget’s One Word at a Time Blog Carnival

It’s Baby Weight

At some point you have to stop wearing maternity clothes.

At three months out I’m in that weird “can wear regular pants but still occasionally wear maternity pants” stage. A stage I just made up a name for.

The thing is, I have these maternity pants that don’t really look like maternity pants. They just have a big elastic waistband at the top instead of a button and zipper…pants I will not wear anymore because that description just made me shudder.

They’re comfy, they’re easy, I’ve gotten used to them.

I have lost all of the weight I gained in my pregnancy with Silas.

Which just means that now I get to start working on the left over pregnancy weight from Eli, Cora and Ezra.

My problem is that when I’m wearing those maternity pants I forget about working out or dieting. Those stretchy band pants are significantly looser than they were when I was 9 months pregnant.

I feel good about where I’m at in relation to where I was.

Courtesy of

Then I step on the scale. The scale does not lie.

The scale tells me where I’m at in relation to where I should be.

It’s a wake up call from my stretchy pants.

After a while the weight can no longer be blamed on the baby. It transitions from baby weight to just normal “no excuse” weight.

Ten years from now no one is going to take me seriously if I call it baby weight.


I asked Jesus into my heart when I was 5-years-old. Then I did it again about 6 more times to make sure it had stuck.

Suffice to say, I didn’t have a dramatic conversion experience.

I always felt bad about that, like I was less of a Christian because I hadn’t been saved from much. I was a good little girl and I wasn’t too much of a trouble maker growing up. Well, there was that one time

However, comparing myself to “others” who are out there sinning is like wearing my maternity pants.

I’m looking at what I could have been instead of what I should be:

Live in peace with each other

Always try to be kind to each other

Be joyful always

Pray continually

Give thanks in all circumstances

Avoid every kind of evil

Be imitators of God

Do all things without grumbling or complaining

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.


Although I could be worse, I could also be better.

Ten years from now no one is going to take me seriously if I’m the same person then as I am today.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is–his good, pleasing and perfect will. For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you. Romans 12:2-3, emphasis mine