This kind of praying is what saved my life.

I was listening to Brandon Lake’s Talking to Jesus for like the 72,879th time. It became my theme song last year, even as I started talking to You less and less. Because I think I missed You, even though I’m the one that moved away, not You. You remain the same. You are constant and unwavering. No matter how far my emotions sway.

And I remembered all the times in my life, I have been told to shut up child or hush woman by teachers, family, friends, random people sitting across restaurants and movie theaters. Usually when I’m excited and sharing something good. And best believe I overshare to the point of making it awkward. I overshared one time and this woman looked at me and said yea, I am not unpacking that. (If ever there was a case of: “these are not your people.” That was it.)

I started to think well thank goodness You don’t tell me be quiet when I talk. But then I was like wait a minute there ma’am. Yes You do, because timing is important and who you share with matters. Be Still is literally written on my walls at home because I need the constant reminder. You love to hear from me, but boundaries and respect are also very important in any relationship. The way you talk to your friends, is not the way you can talk to police officers or teachers or authority figures. Also to make friends, you have to be a friend. I am trying to teach our foster kid that at the moment. Kids are mean. Period. Kindness is a learned skill, that has to be taught.

At our Wednesday night, Grow Group, they asked us why it was easier for kids to talk to You like a friend than it was for adults. The truth of the matter is that I stopped talking to You as a friend because I was too busy lookin at my sin, at my shame, than I was lookin at Your goodness. I let my pride get in the way of our relationship and it was easier to keep walkin in the opposite direction from You than it was to address my own pride.

I’ve had to learn a lot over the years. When to talk and when to draw back. Who to share dreams and aspirations with and who to protect those plans from. How to get excited without being overdramatic. How to state a dislike without complaining or nagging. When to keep my mouth shut and when to stand firm and speak up. There are quite a few rules and regulations to this sassy mouth of mine. Then there are the cultural considerations like: do not speak unless spoken to, children should be seen and not heard (which is the worst! and the opposite of what You teach, which is to let the children come to You.), keep other folks name outta ya mouth and mind ya business, yada yada yada.

I haven’t quite mastered the timing for any of those things just yet, but I am growing and learning. And in group settings, I overthink so much that I say nothing at all or I raise my hand and wait to be called upon like grade school. I titled my 9th grade journal: she talks too much because my daddy used to say that was my theme song by George Thorogood. If I ever write a book, that’ll be the title too. I couldn’t talk about my sexual abuse for so many years. It kept me in such a prison of shame and guilt, now I talk about it so openly, it makes others uncomfortable. But that silence gave the enemy so much poison and power over me, that I will continue to speak because it did happen and it was real.

I spent most my life trying to hide because of it. I still catch myself trying to hide sometimes and I have to call it out by name and address it. Because once you name a problem, it loses it’s authority and it’s easier to handle.

So, this is my prayer today. Lord, help me to start talking with you again. Help me to remember You are the one place, I am completely and utterly safe. I do not have to shield myself. I do not have to protect my goals and dreams from you. You want good for me. I do not have to filter my thoughts. You already know them. I do not have to put defenses up and try to dress my sin up pretty. You already forgave me. I do not have to worry or be anxious. You worked everything out for my good and your glory. Jackie Hill Perry, in When You Pray, said: “We have a habit of defining God by our circumstances, not by scriptures.” And boy howdy, did I feel that way down deep in my toes. She continued saying: “If God is good, then He must be doing something good in the midst.” Lord, help me to trust you. Help me to look to You, instead of my own abilities. I make a terrible god. You are such a good, good Father. You will always be more than enough to fill my empty places. Only you can fill my cup. And as always I pray for my family and sorority sisters. I pray for my university. I pray for guidance for our government, church, and school leaders. I pray for protection for our troops. I pray for all those that need you now and for those that haven’t met you yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

And I come running to you.

Ok, so here’s the deal. I am a complete mess 99.99% of the time, nope, it is literally 110% of the time. But this week especially. Plus while I’m being super honest, the hormones are extra fierce this time of the month which doesn’t help. But someone decided to call me out, which happens quite frequently. Not knowing I was already stressed at work because we had an internal review this week. Or that I had a million things on my mind because of our new foster kid’s school meetings this week. Or that my youth group babies are missing youth group while we, as a church, are in transition right now. Or I am a brand spankin new wife, sorta, almost, well in 43 days. These are all good things I want and love, but each of them have their own stressors too. So, I absolutely did not have time for someone to call me out for things that happened to me over 20 years ago. He kept telling me I “look like I am carrying the blame and responsibility for someone else’s sin.” He said “carrying all that weight of someone else’s guilt and shame must be heavy.” I wanted to scream, well duh. He asked me when I was going to set it all down and finally take care of myself. My brain was sending off distress signals, going: umm, sir, I thought I had. Now I feel exposed, attacked and just generally unstable.

So, naturally, I went reeling for a minute. I ate a bowl of ice cream and drank one fruity Jack Daniels drink. Was it a good decision? No. Did the drink even taste good? Also no. I know good and well that ice cream and a drank drank ain’t gonna fill the God shaped hole. And in that moment, I was feeling pretty poked with holes. But in the sake of being honest, that’s how I handled the rest of the day. So the next day, I did better. I decided what I really needed was time with You, Jesus, but my brain was on overload so I picked a sermon on YouTube. Almost turned it off 3-4 times. I didn’t turn it off though because I have a really good lookin husband (in 43 days, but who’s counting?) sittin on the other end of that couch so I can’t give up. And a sweet little foster kid sleeping down the hall. Because they give me the courage to make better choices. Because they deserve me, at my best, at my healthiest. Not the watered down version, digging herself in a hole. Because they are living breathing reminders that You love me. Even when I mess it all up and reach for the ice cream instead of my bible, You still love me. I can’t change what happened to me over 20 yrs ago and I can’t change how I coped with it yesterday, but You never left me alone and I can turn back to You. Because trauma is real and it happens to everyone. Because I can choose to end it with me. I can choose to do better today. Because You can make our home a place of healing. Because sometimes all it takes is a warm bubble bath and fishing rod in the tub for a little kid to say: “I hope I get to stay this time. I like it here.” Because it will be different here.

So here is what I learned from the sermon by Pastor Brie and Aaron Davis at Transformation Church.

God’s love summons our story. I could say that my story is that I was sexually abused at 8 yrs old which led to other abuse and trauma and PTSD and anxiety. That’s what the person calling me out wanted to hear. That I was broken beyond repair. I could say that I still jump if someone comes at me from behind and I can’t see what they’re doing. I still have a doomsday brain that expects the absolute worst case scenario to happen. I could say I still don’t feel worthy of love sometimes. I could say no matter how much I try to be the good girl and keep everything clean and tidy that I still have blood on my hands. I still have trauma. I still have hurt places. But that is not my story. I went to faith based counseling. And will probably go off and on for the rest of my life. I met with pastors and with other believers. I studied and memorized scripture. I hung scripture on every wall in my house to remind me of Your truth when the lies in my head get too loud. (My husband calls them my post it notes.) I surrendered. I laid it all at the foot of the Cross. You already died to save me. You already paid the cost. My story is so much better than what that other person wanted to write. There is beauty in my story. Your love is written on every page. In my nightmares, You are standing in front of the evil now. You took what the enemy meant to destroy me and turned it into healing. You showed me the way out so I could show others the way out.

God’s love summons our striving. I had gotten real good at trying to earn love or respect or approval. I am a retired people pleaser. I learned that I am never going to receive real love by changing for it and I am most certainly not going to receive love by begging. I no longer use my Christian checklist to measure my worth or if I’m being good enough. I will never be good enough. I will never make amends enough. I will never be able to save myself or anyone else, for that matter. But that’s good news. Because You already love me. You already saved me. You already called me chosen. So, I will keep fighting. Not because I have to earn love, but because You love me too much to leave me sulkin in my sin.

God’s love summons your sanctuary (your hiding place). This one might be what I struggle with the most currently. Because I know exactly how to shrink myself so I don’t take up space. I know how to make myself talk quieter and talk less. I know exactly how not to have an opinion. I know exactly how to be accommodating to everyone else’s needs. I know not to ask too many questions. And I know how to physically hide in the closet and put clothes hampers in front to barricade myself in there. I know how to hide my nose in a book so I can’t bother anyone. I know when I’m being annoying. And I’ve done all of those things and more to hide. But those things don’t actually make me feel safe, they just alert me that something already happening does not feel safe, that I’m scared of what will happen if I don’t make less of myself. But makin myself smaller will not avoid the confrontation.

Our brokenness summons our God. He wants us to bring it to Him. The more my hurt is revealed and the deeper it goes, just shows me how good You are. It was never supposed to be this way. I keep thinking oh, I’m good, I’m finally past this. Then someone comes along and says no ma’am it’s written right across your forehead for everyone to see and it’s spilling into every part of your life. The truth is, it happened and I can’t change that. The truth is, I am probably going to be affected by it in some way, every day, for the rest of my life. The truth is, that brokenness is just a small part in a much bigger story. The truth is, I still have things I need to let go so You can heal. The truth is, there are still mends to relationships that need divine intervention. The truth is, healing is a process and will not be complete on this earth.

So, this is my prayer today. Lord, sometimes, I feel like the wounds are healing and then someone comes by and rips it right back open. But maybe that’s a good thing, because maybe that’ll make sure an infection doesn’t settle in. Maybe the scab just needs to be removed so I can get deeper healing. Sometimes, I feel like I can’t stop the bleeding, there’s nothing I can do to clean it all because it’s just pouring out. But that’s the point. I cannot do this on my own. No amount of cleaning and purifying and being the good girl will take back what happened. I cannot change what happened. I cannot avoid it. I have to name it. I learned that. I learned how to cope with the disassociation and things I used to protect myself. But I think I got a little stuck there, thinking just getting by and surviving was all I could do. Now maybe I need to learn to move forward. Now maybe when good things happen, I can learn to stop looking for the other shoe to drop. Now maybe I can learn to breathe without fear. Now maybe I can learn to quit hiding. Maybe now that I feel safe, maybe I will be able to live knowing I am safe. I pray for peace. I pray for healing. I pray that I can help others. I pray that I point them to you. Lord, help me not to get discouraged when others point out my flaws. Help me to realize they are trying to help, not attack. Thank you that wasn’t the end of my story. Thank you that was just a small part in a much bigger story. Thank you for not letting me quit. Thank you for the courage to keep going. Thank you that healing is a process. Lord, there is so much trauma and it seems like you can’t do it and you can’t possibly help enough. There is so much hurt in this world. This world is broken. Not to mention, I will forever be in the process of healing. How can I possibly help anyone else? The answer is I can’t but You can. Oh my stars, how You can. And as always I pray for my family and sorority sisters. I pray for my university. I pray for guidance for our government, church, and school leaders. I pray for protection for our troops. I pray for all those that need you now and for those that haven’t met you yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Never felt a love so wide That could change a life like mine.

Sometimes, Lord, I wish there was some kinda “declutter” button on my brain, to just throw my brain in the wash and rinse out all the mess.

These folks gotta “Christian” check list with deadlines and steps to take in order that they think I should be doing with my life. Most of it, comes from a place of good intentions, but it just adds all this completely unnecessary pressure and guilt when life just don’t always work out according to those plans.

I used to rely so heavy on plans. Daddy used to make jokes about how I should write a book on my 5, 10, and 20 year plan. But the truth is, the more I relied on my plans, the less I relied on You.

My plan was to go college, get a good job. Married within the year after I graduated. (Side Note: I had never even been kissed at that point though, so actually having a boyfriend at that time was completely out of the question.) Then I’d start having kids within 2 years after that. I was gonna have as many kids as You would give me. I had it all mapped out. I had where I was gonna work and volunteer, where I was gonna live, white picket fence, the whole nine yards. Well absolutely none of that worked out to my timeline.

What actually happened was You made a way, where there was no way. I took an extra two years in college because I still had some growing up to do. I did not get a job immediately. I wallowed first. Then I took a job at therapeutic group home for teenagers with behavioral and psychological issues. I took the overnight position thinking I could work there temporarily until I found my real job using my degree.

When I was going to first grade, the other kids would tell you they wanted to be a firefighter, teacher, lawyer, doctor, etc. But I wanted to be a missionary. In my little head, that meant sometimes I would teach or put out fires or anything else, but I was going to be doing it “on mission” for You. I thought this meant I had to leave America and go to some foreign country to do that. Then I doubted and didn’t feel worthy of the calling, but what I didn’t know was how much you had planned for this girl right here in the mission field of Alabama.

So, in my time at the group home, I got down on my knees and remembered my little first grade dream of being a missionary. I got asked to lead a life group at church. I was in a group with what I like to affectionately call “super” Christians because they were the deep in scripture type, living their lives completely for you kind. The study was on Mark and I have never read a book of the bible more that I did Mark. I was out of my league and I felt I needed to rise to the challenge. While I was working overnight, I studied as much as I could on Mark, because I knew these folks knew their bible. The more I studied, the more in love with scripture I fell. And then I got promoted to the day staff at the group home and I was teaching devotions and social skills. First off, God, You had Miss Awkward teaching social skills so I know for a fact, You still do miracles. I think I learned way more than I ever taught working there. Teaching kids about You, is and always will be, the best thing I could ever do.

And it opened the door to becoming a foster parent. I thought I was fine doing it alone because I had put away those childish picket fence dreams long before. I boxed up those ideas and put them away when it did not work out in my timeline. I didn’t think I was good enough for those dreams. Those dreams were for perfect girls and not damaged ones like me. Foster parenting alone was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I never felt so alone. At one point I cried myself to sleep because I knew could not do it on my own. I started serving in the youth group at church because all my little kiddos I was teaching grew up and now I had a foster kid in the youth group. That’s when I met my future husband. I always heard that You send folks to us when we need them the most, but honestly I didn’t believe it. I thought it was hogwash, until it happened to me.

But sometimes, folks still feel the need to tell me their opinions on how I should live my life. “I really wish you would have a family the natural way.” Like there’s only one way to have a family. The only way I care whose blood is this or that, is if somebody’s hurt and needs help. Ain’t nobody care if that’s my blood in their veins or not. You sent Your Son to save em whether I birthed em or not. Or “Oh, those kids will be good practice for when you have real kids.” a) I hate that. The message that sends to those kids is that they don’t matter, they’re just practice, so it doesn’t matter if you mess them up. It’s like pancakes, just throw the first few out and the rest will be fine. Like, no. b) I was always told to do in practice, what you are going to do in the game, so telling me these kids are practice is just nonsense. And calling biological kids real and foster kids not real, just isolates those kids even more.

But I have learned a whole lot with each kid that has come into our home. I’m certainly stronger than I ever thought possible. And I hope my parenting skills are getting better, not because the previous kid was just practice, but because I hope with every passing year, I am growing and maturing. Because I want to always do better, to love more, to pray more, to study scripture more.

Out of all the things on that checklist of things I wanted to complete or others wanted me to do, the only things that stuck were the things I talked to You about. I prayed for a man to take me fishing on Sundays after church. I prayed for as many kids as You would give me. I didn’t give birth to a single one of em, but boy howdy do I love and pray for each and every one of em. They do not stay in my home forever, but they do in my heart. And I’m just gonna keep opening my doors and keep pulling up chairs to the table. Because there is always room for more.

The funny part is, the reason I prayed so hard, for all those years, for a man to take me fishing was a story I heard in high school. This teacher told us about a girl who was complaining about a date with a boy. She said she thought he was just taking her fishing, but the boy was fishing for something else… That story drilled this little idea in my silly teenage head, that if I wanted to find a good, God-fearing man, I needed to find a fisherman.

And that good, God-fearing, fisherman does not love me because of my luscious hair or because I graduated on time and got the job or because I was little miss perfect. Nope, he loves me because I am a broken mess tryin to love others and point them to You. He loves me, as I am, not the good girl on the checklist. I never knew what true unconditional love was until You showed me. Even before that man came into my life, You were healing my heart and showing me that being the good girl has nothing to do with it. You love me too much to leave me the way You found me. You want more for me than any good girl checklist can offer.

So, here is my prayer today. Lord, I have been fortunate enough to have loved you my whole life. You took my life into your hands when I was 8 yrs old. You snatched me up when I was at my worst, when I was at my weakest, at my most vulnerable moment and You told Satan, this one is mine, you cannot have her. You called my name when I was singing (very off key and outta tune) in the balcony with my arms stretched out to you. You called my name, clear as day. More verbal than anything I’ve ever heard before. I tried running from you, but I never could, because you had me in your hands and promised not to let me go. I am so thankful you never did, you never let me go. When I pulled away, you held on tighter. It was always my choice to stay and I thank you for that freedom. You are so loving and gracious and you show me more ways you’ve loved me all along every single day. Thank you that I am not who I used to be. Thank you for tearing down all my walls. Thank you for turning this heart of stone into a living, breathing heart full of love. Thank you for changing all my plans, for changing everything. Thank you for giving me so much more than I asked for. Looking back, I can see how everything was connected, nothing was in vain, nothing was without purpose. You used everything. Every lesson, every heartbreak, every trial, every good thing just pointed me closer to you. Thank you for preparing room in my heart. Thank you for loving folks like me with flawed hearts, wild emotions, and luscious hair. And as always I pray for my family and sorority sisters. I pray for my university. I pray for guidance for our government, church, and school leaders. I pray for protection for our troops. I pray for all those that need you now and for those that haven’t met you yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Cause there’s no hurt my Jesus can’t heal.

I got myself into a week (if I’m being honest, it’s closer to three weeks…) of chalked full of “stinkin thinkin.” I went to bed one night thinkin “if only these kids would listen to me, they would be happy, healthy, and thriving. They’re just makin it harder on themselves.” And I stopped dead in the middle of my pitty party and realized, You, Father, are scratching Your head, thinkin the very same thing about me.

Then, I caught myself thinkin: “there’s so much pain in the world around me and I feel like I will never be able to do enough on my own to even make a dent in it.” I realized right then and there, duhhhh foolish girl. That’s the point. I am not supposed to do this on my own. I am supposed to be obedient to You. YOU are The Way, The Truth, and The Life.

Lord, with therapeutic foster kids, I am the last stop before the hospital or juvy most of the time. And it is a terribly heavy burden. Because I am trying to pull all the stops and make all the last ditch efforts to throw a flag. And most, if not all, days, it feels like I am failing miserably. Because I cannot save any of them. I can’t save even one.

And I have folks in all directions tellin me what to do. Folks tellin me, I’m doin too much: just let the kids go to jail if that’s what they want. Literally, just let em go to jail. Folks tellin me, I’m not doin enough: just love them babies. Folks tellin me, I ask for help too much, while other folks tellin me, I don’t ask enough. I can’t please any of them.

Mary Marantz wrote in an article: “I want to remind you today, you were always the one asked to be faithful with the planting. But you were never the one with the power to make it grow.” Then: “We can plant the seeds in the ground, but we can’t go in and rip them open in the hopes of speeding up the process.”

My pastor said his favorite words are “I can’t.” For the life of me, I couldn’t understand that. All I could think was that I know I can’t, but we have to at least try to do some good. So, I started praying on it. The difference is trying to be like Jesus while knowing I am not You. We were saying the same things but there was something about what he said that I was just flat out missing. And I think it was the freedom in “I can’t” because You can. Whether I know how You are gonna do it or not.

When I am faced with anything, my first question is: how. I teach the kids, instead of complaining, tell me how you can fix it or how you can let it go. When pay day comes, it’s how are we gonna pay all these bills. When I turned 30 it was how am I gonna make it to 31. Turning 30 was not fun. I yelled. I disappointed folks. I lost my car keys and my patience. It was a hot mess of a day and I was uglyyy to literally everyone I saw. I kept tellin the kids I was 29 and if they called me 30, they were grounded. I kept telling em 31 would be fine, but not 30. They did not listen, obviously, and I still turned 30.

What I learned is that I cannot save those kids, no matter how hard I try or how much I try to carry the weight on the world on my shoulders. It is not my burden to bear. I cannot bear the weight of it, I will crumble and the beauty of it is that I do not have to carry it, You already did. When I pray that You break my heart for what breaks Yours. It means to open my eyes to the needs around me, not try to go save em myself. Because You, my almighty Father, are the only one capable of saving those kids, just like You saved me.

So, here is my prayer. Lord, I keep thinking I’m teaching these kids, but it’s really you teaching me. Father, there is no hurt you can’t heal. There is no hope without you. There is no joy without you. There is no salvation without you. There is no love without you. Lord, never let me forget to invite you into my little broken heart, my little broken world. Help me to show those kids who you are, because that is my only power and that is all you ever wanted from me. Lord take over my life. Consume my thought, my heart, my hands, my feet, my very breathe. Interrupt my routine. Break my heart for what breaks yours. Show me where to go and what to do. Lord, set my feet to dancing. I give you control, I am letting go. I trust you with my kids. With my relationships. With my family. With my finances. With my marriage. I do not know how you are going to do any of it, but boy howdy, I’m glad I get to watch you do it. It is a broken world, full of broken hearts and broken people, but it is also a miraculously beautiful life you’ve given me. Thank you for writing my story for my good and your glory in mind. And as always I pray for my family and sorority sisters. I pray for my university. I pray for guidance for our government, church, and school leaders. I pray for protection for our troops. I pray for all those that need you now and for those that haven’t met you yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Cause now I’m talking to Jesus.

I talk way too much. I know this. Everyone around me knows this. My daddy made my childhood theme song: You Talk Too Much by George Thorogood. To be funny or to embarrass me into talking less, that I’m not quite sure, either way it did not work. All it did was make 15 yr old me think I should write a book called She Talks Too Much. I try to work on it though, I really do.

Monday, all day long, I prayed and gave myself this pep talk before the team meeting I had that night: just be quiet, listen, and keep ya emotions in check, girl, that’s all ya gotta do, and for goodness sake, woman, do not make everything about you.

Because I begged You to be apart of this team. I told You a million times, I wanted to help. (Side note: I was wrong, I am not ready, I am completely unprepared and I have no idea what I am doing in here with these people. They are some of the most Jesus lovin people I know and I am so inadequate to be amongst them.)

But lemmmeee tell ya how much my pep talk worked. Zilch. I spent the whole entire hour meeting crying and blubberin… ya know right in front of all the folks… so there’s that.

Then last night, I kept trying to tell myself: do not to pick a fight, just sit down and enjoy your night off, do NOT pick a fight. But what did I do?? Picked a fight and kept at it until I physically shut down. So this morning is when the guilt and shame comes back. Because who doesn’t love an emotionally dysregulated person first thing in the morning…

So I grabbed my bible study book hanging out of my bible because when I am struggling, I am trying to teach myself to seek You instead of my pesky feelings because them suckers lie. And offfffff course, You wanna talk about my big ole terrible mouth. Matthew 12:33-37 talking about if good is in my heart, good will come outta my mouth. Ephesians 4:29 talking about only using my words to build others up. And the last verse was Proverbs 10:19. One translation literally says: Too much talk leads to sin. Be sensible and keep your mouth shut. Ya know the thing that has repeatedly gotten me into hot water this week. I guess you wanted to give me lots of practice to try and get it right, but I failed every single one of them tests this week. You wanna know what the funniest part is, I always teach the kids: if it ain’t kind and it ain’t helpful, it ain’t necessary. So I guess today I am learning Matthew 7:3 firsthand in how to deal with the log in my eye before the splinter in someone else’s.

I can shift blame and say it was the lack of sleep this week or the after-period hormones or the fact that I got off my anxiety meds or this, that, and the other. But honestly, all those things come and go, what remains constant is my mouth saying things it shouldn’t. I used to think it was all my brain’s fault. Ya know the childhood sexual abuse trauma causing havoc and all that glorious PTSD damage to my brain.

What I am beginning to realize from this bible study book is that maybe it’s a heart issue. Ezekiel 36:26 says: And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. I used to pray that verse over folks that I knew had adamantly refused a relationship with you, praying they would be open to Your word.

Back to the log in my eye. I think I need to pray this verse over my own heart. I turned my heart to stone, all on my own. I can shift blame all I want, but deep down, I know the real issue is my own sinful heart.

I have been in a steady growing relationship with you since 2001, but sometimes I feel like I’m still a baby Christian, getting to know You. But as someone wise once said, you got all the Jesus you’re ever gonna get. I have reminded myself so many times. You are always enough. Never too much and I never run outta You. Never too late and always on time. You always remain and are always forgiving me. Nothing can remove me from Your hands.

So, here is my prayer. I pray that you remove my heart of stone. I pray that you cleanse my heart from all the damage and trauma. I pray that I take full responsibility for my actions, my feelings, my words, and my heart. I pray that you silence the voices in my head until all I can hear is you. Lord, help me to realize not everyone that comes near me is going to hurt me and not everything they say is a personal attack. I keep thinking I’m finally going to get past this and finally get healing. But the truth is, I was healed the moment I was saved in 2001. I started the healing process the moment I invited you into my heart. But that does not mean I am not still healing. This is a broken world and my heart is absolutely broken. The truth is I am ok and I am going to be ok, even when it does not feel ok and I feel that heaviness sitting on my chest. The truth is, these are just some more growing pains. The truth is I am in a good place. I am doing better, and I do not need the same coping mechanisms anymore. There are still weak moments, that is also true. But they are just moments and they too will pass. Lord, help me to talk to you when my heart feels all outta whack. Help me to come to you when the voices in my head get loud. Help me to point to you even in my weak moments. And as always I pray for my family and sorority sisters. I pray for my university. I pray for guidance for our government, church, and school leaders. I pray for protection for our troops. I pray for all those that need you now and for those that haven’t met you yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

I’m still not convinced that I won’t be too much for you someday.

I live under constant pressure. Some of it, refining my rough places and making smooth. Some of it, is just flat out unnecessary. Some of it, others put on me. Some of it, put on me because I’m the oldest sibling and first born. Some of it, because I have chosen to take leadership positions my whole life. Some of it, put on me because I chose to follow You and I am trying to point towards You and that comes with the responsibility of people hoping to see if I handle life pointing towards you. Some of it, put on because I chose to follow You so others are rooting for me to fail so they can say You failed. Some of it, is old teaching and habits. Some of it, comes from trauma, coping mechanisms, and anxiety. Some of it, I lived with so long, I would miss it if it were gone. Most of the pressure though, I put on all by myself.

I get caught thinking, I’ve messed up Your plan somehow. As if I am powerful enough to mess up the Almighty’s plan. As if I am smart enough to outsmart You. As if I am capable of such a force. I am not You. I cannot be You to my people. And I cannot mess up Your plan for them or for me. You are still at work in their lives, even when I cannot see. You are still at work in my life, even when I’m throwing pity parties and when I’ve gotten too big for my britches. When my pride swings so hard in the opposite direction that I’ve made too big of my little ole mess.

So, this is my prayer today. I pray that I take your truth, line by line, and replace my stinkin thinkin with your truth. Lord, help me to see the difference between something you want me to work on and something I just need to trust you with. Help me see the difference between what is in my control and what I need to leave in your hands. Help me to love like you without trying to be a savior for my people, because I will never be able to do that and I don’t need to because you already did the heavy lifting. You already saved us. You already laid down your life for us. You already moved the mountains. You already won the war. You already gave the ultimate sacrifice. And you did it with more grace and dignity and love for my people that I would ever be capable. Thank you for saving my people. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for loving my people. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for loving me too much to leave me stuck in my stinkin thinkin. Thank you for carrying my weight. Lord I pray that I spend more time reading those words written in red and less time worrying about things in my own head that aren’t true. And as always I pray for my family and sorority sisters. I pray for my university. I pray for guidance for our government, church, and school leaders. I pray for protection for our troops. I pray for all those that need you now and for those that haven’t met you yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Never once did You leave us on our own.

The Artidote reposted this from Tyler Ford and I saw it because it was shared on my newsfeed.

“do you remember the first time you were called annoying?
how your breath stopped short in your chest
the way the light drained from your eyes, though you knew your cheeks were ablaze
the way your throat tightened as you tried to form an argument that got lost on your tongue.
your eyes never left the floor that day.
you were 13.

you’re 20 now, and i still see the light fade from your eyes when you talk about your interests for ‘too long,’
apologies littering every other sentence,
words trailing off a cliff you haven’t jumped from in 7 years.
i could listen to you forever, though i know speaking for more than 3 uninterrupted minutes makes you anxious.
all i want you to know is that you deserve to be heard
for 3 minutes
for 10 minutes
for 2 hours
forever.

there will be people who cannot handle your grace, your beauty, your wisdom, your heart;
mostly because they can’t handle their own.
but you will never be
and have never been
‘too much.'”

—instagram.com/tywrent

Jesus, I wanted to tell that cool kid, it gets better. Because one day you’re turning 30 and you are going on and on and on about something and then you’ll stop and look at this God lovin man sittin beside you. He’ll give you a funny look, laugh sweetly, and say: “did you just annoy yourself?” And you’ll say “yessss, ok” and smile back because you have the freedom to be who you are, to be completely content as you are. The freedom to be absolutely, positively, without a shadow of a doubt annoying, fully embraced.

But even better than that is when that sweet man will point me back to You, the One who created me as I am. That man accepts me completely and fully, but also loves me too much to leave me the way I am. When he sees me acting a fool, he quiets everything around me and says stop. Lord, have mercy, I need that. He doesn’t yell or join in my fire. He puts out the fire and calms me. Privately, just between me and You, God. He invites You into our conversations. When he sees me spiraling, he pulls out of the pit and points me back to You. He reflects Your love to me in a deeper way. He ain’t perfect and You know I ain’t either, but somehow loving him makes my relationship with You even stronger.

Lord, You are the only one who never gets annoyed with us. You are the only one who wants to hear from us every minute of the day. We are not too much for you. We are not lacking for you. I read this book, You are special by Max Lucado, to the kids at church last Sunday. It was about not listening to what others say about you and coming to the You, the One who created us, instead. Because what You say about us is worth so much more and we can stand in the full light of the truth. I thought I was reading it for the kids, but I guess it was for me this week too.

It’s real easy to see my shortcomings when things are tough. Especially when someone confirms my pesky little theories about myself. Because Satan will whisper, I am not enough, I am too much, I am this and that. Then he will whisper it to those who love me so they believe it about me too. But, Lord, you are the still, small voice like a lighthouse in the storm, guiding me home. You are telling me how much You love me and how much You gave just to know me. Just to hear my annoying stories and my not funny jokes. The voice you feed is the one that grows. If we listen to the evil voices in our head spreading poison, it will spread. If we listen to the life giving truth You offer, it will spread and fill those empty places. The more time we spend with You, the more we will be able to silence those whispers. We have to stay diligent and listen for Your voice. It’s a battle, that much is guaranteed, but we also know who already won the war.

So, this is my prayer today. I pray for the girl who shared the post. I pray for the kid who wrote it. I pray for 13 yr old me, 20 yr old me, and 30 yr old me. I pray that I keep learning and growing. I pray that I keep finding people that listen. I pray I keep finding people that point me back to You. I pray I keep going back to You to find my value, my worth, my place in this world and the next. This place is not my home and no matter how good it gets here, there is always better coming. Heaven is waiting. You, my Creator, my Abba Father, my Lord and Savior are preparing a place for me. You never left me and you never left them either. Thank you for wanting a relationship with me. Thank you for listening to me. Thank you for giving me life. Thank you for giving me peace beyond understanding. Thank you for giving me discernment. Thank you for giving me wisdom beyond my years. Thank you for giving me a life I love, people that love me, and the strength to keep going. And as always I pray for my family and sorority sisters. I pray for my university. I pray for guidance for our government, church, and school leaders. I pray for protection for our troops. I pray for all those that need you now and for those that haven’t met you yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Only love would take me back again.

I have heard the story from Genesis about Abraham taking Isaac as a sacrifice to You, Lord, nearly a hundred times. I thought I understood it, but honestly I could not imagine giving up my kid. Every time I heard it, my thought process could not function enough to comprehend sacrificing your kid. Especially after Abraham waited and waited and waited and waited to have that kid. I could not even understand why You would ask that of Abraham. I was just like no deal, hard pass. Until I became a foster parent.

Then it allll started to make sense.

For one, You don’t want us to get wrapped up in the kids so much that we worship and serve them, instead of keeping You at the center of everything. Because You love us and care for us. Serving kids is great, but it does not serve you to worship them and it certainly doesn’t serve your kids to worship your kids. When we take our eyes off You, we are no longer helping those kids any way ya slice it.

For two, giving my kids to You is the entire point. Teaching them to serve You and pointing them to You is the entire point. Letting them go is the entire point. Before I was raising kids, ya know knee deep in slime and teenage sass, I did not understand that. It is my utmost pleasure to give those kids to You. They were Yours before they were mine, and they will be Yours long after they are no longer in my care. You love them more than I will ever be able to comprehend. The magnitude of Your love for them is beyond even my best day. Loving my kid, helped me see how much more You love.

Lysa Terkheurst said: “God really does have it all worked out. The gaps are filled. The heartache is eased. The provision is ready. The needs are met. Fully. Completely. Perfectly. In Him. With Him. By Him.”

Lord, trusting You with these kids is the hardest and easiest thing I’ve ever done. Boyyyy Howdyyy, did I want to hold on tight and never let go, but that is not what I needed, and most definitely not what my kid needed. All I can do is love ’em while I got ’em and point ’em to You along the way. And that there is more than enough.

Abraham and Isaac both answer: “Here I am,” when called in the story. Lord, help me to have a heart eager to serve. Help to answer: “Here I am.” Help me to answer the call, ready and willing.

I know without a shadow of a doubt, that my kid is gonna get in trouble when I’m not there anymore. The same way my kid got in trouble when I was standing right there, but I won’t be around to help pick up the pieces this time. Hopefully while my kid was in my care, my kid learned something.

Hopefully, my kid watched when this foster mama played gospel music to ease the stress.

Hopefully, my kid watched when this foster mama pulled out her bible when she got overwhelmed.

Hopefully, my kid watched when this foster mama served her community even when she was tired.

Hopefully, my kid watched when this foster mama wrote scripture and posted it on every door and every wall.

Hopefully, my kid watched when this foster mama leaned into healthy relationships with others.

Hopefully, my kid watched when this foster mama actually used coping skills and target skills, not just taught them.

Lord, I was a foster mama for 570 days. I’m pullin a Ross and Rachel right now screaming about being on a break. My kids rooms are empty and the beds are all gonna be changed and washed tomorrow. There’s no bath bomb science making kit in my living room floor. There’s no Taki’s stocked in my kitchen. There’s no speaker blaring music from the bathroom. There’s no hamster running loose, again. There’s no bike in the middle of the driveway. There’s no shoes under the couch. There’s no slamming doors and no laughing until we’re crying. My hair ain’t turning gray or falling out and there is quiet in the house. I fully appreciate the quiet, but Lord have mercy, fill these rooms again so that I can give them to You too.

So, this is my prayer. Father, I know I made mistakes, but please Lord let me have taught more good than bad. I pray I pointed my kid to you. I pray I was a mirror of your love. Help me to love better. Help to holler less. Help me get less frustrated and calm down faster. Help me to stand firm when they need and show grace when they need. Help me to forgive. Help them to forgive me. Lord, prepare their hearts for my home, when you are preparing my heart for them. Lord, I run so far away sometimes and you always bring me back home. Lord, help them find home too, even if it’s not with me. Let every breath in my body breathe for you. Let every word I speak be for you. Let every step I take, be with you. I know just how quickly the tables can turn. I know a kid can leave my home just as quickly as it entered. Lord, I know foster care is a roller coaster, but I also know you are with me, holding me together. I know there is so much more pain than I can even imagine. But I also know that Your love can heal any pain, any hurt, any trauma. You fill the gaps, I just need to be willing to stand in them too. And as always I pray for my family and sorority sisters. I pray for my university. I pray for guidance for our government, church, and school leaders. I pray for protection for our troops. I pray for all those that need you now and for those that haven’t met you yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

I will trust in You and know that You are with me.

Father, ya girl is struggling. I just want to cry from the time I get up in the morning until I go to bed. But I can’t and I don’t. I can’t grieve yet because it’s not about me. All this pent up emotion and stress poured out as anger last week. Then I got humbled. And it was needed, but it was not pleasant at all. Then I took my big ole humbled butt on an apology tour. This week, I’m doing better. This week I asked for help. I reached out to friends. I reached out to a counselor. I got in Your word more. I started hand writing Isaiah.

I didn’t know it would be this tough. I knew the daily stress of having too many cooks in the kitchen and endless meetings with case workers, social workers, psychiatrists, doctors, counselors, school administration, and all that, on top of all the regular nice folks that tell new parents how to parent better. I was prepared for the stress of having therapeutic kids with trauma responses and behavioral outbursts. I was prepared for loving a kid so much it hurts. I was prepared for the protective mama bear instincts to kick in and wanting to shield a kid from all the hurt. I was prepared for the pushback when setting boundaries. I was even prepared for some things to simply be out of my control. I was prepared for a roller coaster cycle of honeymoonin then real issues and trauma triggers coming out then progress then regression before returning home. Now, I didn’t always handle it the way I was trained or to the best of my ability, but at least I knew all of that was coming. I was not prepared for the overwhelming grief that comes from that kid returning home. The kid that has been my whole world for the last year and a half. I was not at all prepared for it to hurt this much when the kid is not around. Honestly, I thought I was stronger and I thought I would handle this better. Sometimes, it feels like I’m watching my own life going: really…that’s how you’re gonna handle this…not cool woman, not cool...you are supposed to be better than this…

Last night, the kid asked me to help her pack and I just couldn’t do it. I wish I could. I wish I was stronger. I wish I was more selfless and less selfish. But I just couldn’t. My thought process spiraled. You have time, you don’t have to pack this fast, stop it, stop leaving me. I was standing at her door, clenching the door knob to keep from just flat out instigating a fight with her. I am trying not to fight with folks this week. I am trying to look for reminders of peace this week. Because I have peace, I just need to remember it’s there. You are the peace keeper so I went to sit on the couch and put on some worship music. As I was sitting there listening, I closed my eyes and I realized my fist was still clenched up. I remembered the counselor said to have open hands because open hands trust You. So I unwound my hand and continued listening, drowning out the voices telling me all the things that could go wrong when she leaves.

Because in foster care, the reality is, within six months of returning home, most of those kids run away. But by then, the case is closed and no one is looking for that kid anymore. And what happens when a kid runs away is worse than a parent’s worst fears can imagine, so much worse. Even if people think I’m just being overdramatic and overprotective, the statistics aren’t good. According to The Way Home Adoption only 45% actually make it to their high school graduation. 50% of the homeless population spent time in foster care. 50%. 30% of male foster kids wind up in jail by 21 and 70% of female foster kids are pregnant before 21 and 5,000 of these foster kids are dying each year before turning 21. I’ve watched it. I’ve gotten the phone calls after they run and they’re scared and alone. I’ve gotten the phone calls where my babies are having babies and they are worried DHR won’t allow them to keep the babies. I’ve had kids call me worried about their friend because they are living in a trap house or the friend is selling their body to survive. It is not ok. That’s why I foster the teens. I want them to know there is a way out. You, Jesus provided a way outta all that. This doesn’t have to be their story. The cycle can end here. In therapeutic foster care, sometimes I am their last stop before finding permanent placement with family and adoption or jail, homelessness, and a stay in mental health hospital facility. It’s my job to stand in the gap. I am the gate keeper that can shine a light to a better life. I can be a mirror reflection of Your love.

Today, I remembered that You, Lord, are right here with me, watching out for these kids too. They were Yours, before they were mine, and they’ll be Yours long after they leave me. You love them even more than I do. You share in the joy with me when they’re around, and You’ll share the grief with me too. And the best part, You’ll be there with them too even after I’m not anymore.

Louie Giglio wrote a 5 day devotion to promote his new book Don’t Give the Enemy a Seat at Your Table. In the devotion he says: “It’s about identifying those thoughts and getting rid of every idea that doesn’t coincide with the heart of God.”

So my counselor asked me what I’ve done right this week and I couldn’t even answer because all I saw what I was doing wrong so lemme try again:

1. I asked for help.
2. I admitted I was wrong and apologized.
3. I got into the word.
4. I went to You.
5. I got outta the bed and kept going.
6. I stopped spiraling and reacting poorly.
7. I used some of those handy dandy coping skills.
8. I still showed up and did all of the things, I was still consistent.
9. I made plans with some good ole Jesus lovin folks.
10. I was reminded of why I do this in the first place. I stand in the gap with every bit of my Jesus lovin self.

Now the goal is to do better, to get back to serving others and serving You.

So, this is my prayer today. I pray I get rid of every thought that is not from you. I pray that I stand firm. I pray that I remain unwavering. I pray that you hold me together. I pray that I am unmoving. Lord, you are the solid rock on which I stand. Lord, help me to stand. Help me to keep from shaking. Help me to serve you and remember this is not about me. You are a better protector for her than I ever will be. Help me to open my hands and trust you. Help me to let her go. And keep me from falling apart. Father, your heart is big enough to handle this. Your heart is big enough to hold all this pain. Your heart is big enough to calm all this stress and ease all this tension. Your heart is big enough to fill all these gaps. You are still good even in the chaos. Help me to stand guard. Help me be the gate keeper. Help me to stand in the gap. Help me to be a light. Help me to show up, as often as I can and as consistently as I can. Lord, I pray she doesn’t run. Lord, I pray she doesn’t run. Lord, I pray she doesn’t run. Lord, I pray she doesn’t run. Lord, I pray she doesn’t run. I pray you calm all her fears. I pray you hold her still. I pray you let her see how far she’s come. I pray she listens to you. I pray she continues her relationship with you. I pray she knows you are with her always and you’ve never left her even when everyone else walked away. I pray she knows you love her even more than I do. And as always I pray for my family and sorority sisters. I pray for my university. I pray for guidance for our government, church, and school leaders. I pray for protection for our troops. I pray for all those that need you now and for those that haven’t met you yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

There’s nothing to fear now for I am safe with You.

While trips are life givin and super fun, comin home again is exhaustin and miserable. Pro Tip for vacations: Do not engage the human folks upon arrival. Find ya dog to cuddle with and hunker down in separate rooms until everyone gets some rest. Expert Pro Tip: Plan ahead to arrive home early for some good ole Sunday afternoon FOB: flat on back.

This morning I woke up feeling about the size of a penny. I felt completely worthless. I woke up trying to hold onto anger I didn’t even really feel so that I wouldn’t cry again. I tried to let go of the anger, but it felt like a security blanket protecting me. As long as I was angry, I wasn’t disassociating and I wasn’t numb. Or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. It didn’t work and I was left ugly cryin this time. Ya know them hyperventilatin, shame filled, holdin ya self together, ugly sobs.

I went right back to that room at 11 years old, hiding in the closet, straight fear crying.

Then this man in an 18-wheeler pulled up next to me at the red light. I guess he saw my dramatic tail ugly cryin, because he pointed up to You, then put his hands together and mouthed the words: “Pray, He’s got you.”

So I cried a little more out of even more shame that someone else saw me. Then I prayed and dried up my annoying, emotional girl tears and I prayed some more. Why do I have to cry so much?? Why couldn’t I be one of those crazy stubborn women in the country songs?? The ones that drive around in his truck singing “I just wanna be mad for a while,” ya know? Terri Clark knew.

But I aint that kinda girl. I’m the find the Gospel in this kinda girl. I’m the figure out what this is supposed to teach me kinda girl. When I opened my email, my Hannah Brencher devotion said: “Anne Lamott writes, ‘Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.’ So unplug. Breathe. Step away. It will all be here when you come back.” Lord have mercy, I hope he’ll still be here when I come back. Because I showed alllllllll my ugliness this mornin. I prayed for this man my whole life, then I let pent up emotions and feelings boil over because I didn’t express myself in a healthy way. and that is only on me. I let wounds re-open that I thought healed years ago. I said sassy, rude, underhanded things I didn’t mean. I got scared and turned that flight mode on real hard and real fast.

I was upset the kid didn’t wanna come camping. I was upset she’s pushing me away. I was upset I had plans to take a hike and go swimming with her and it just felt silly to do those things alone. Which was also on me, because I most definitely could have done those things alone. So I found me a good spot to sit and I read, which don’t get me wrong was nice too. I needed it. But I’m upset she’s leaving, because while I’m happy for her to be going home, I’m also scared for her because I’ve seen firsthand what happens when kids leave. It either works out really well and they thrive or those kids run away within six months of returning home and wind up homeless, on the street, doing whatever they can to survive. I just love her so dang much and I want her to thrive even if that means letting go.

This is the job. This is what I signed up. At least that’s what everyone keeps reminding me.

And if I did my job correctly, then they find a permanent placement for the kid, preferably with family and the kid leaves. What happens once they leave is out of my control and boyyyyy howdy, that is terrifying. Lord give me strength, because I am weak.

I fought over petty, useless things because those things I had control over. And this I don’t. I was fighting battles in my head all week, that weren’t even real. And I knew they weren’t real, which just made me fight with myself more. Then I imploded on everyone around me.

So, here is my prayer today. Lord, I am trying to learn how to fight instead of flight. I don’t want to run from the very things I prayed for. But I have got to learn how to fight more strategically. I pray that I fight more fair. I pray that I fight the real enemy and not those around me. I pray that I fight on my knees with my hands lifted high because the battle belongs to you. I pray that I go down singin your praise. I will do so much more letting you fight for me than I ever will fighting with those around me. Lord, forgive me for acting a complete fool last week. Help me to do better this week. Help me to be stronger. Help me to be less stubborn. Help me not to push people away. Help me not to run. Help me keep my emotions in check. Help me to let things go that don’t matter and hold onto the people that do. And Lord, thank you for this man. Thank you that he said yesterday that he wants to spend time with me on Mother’s Day because that is all I ever wanted. And as always I pray for my family and sorority sisters. I pray for my university. I pray for guidance for our government, church, and school leaders. I pray for protection for our troops. I pray for all those that need you now and for those that haven’t met you yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.