digging deeper

my kids tease me for thinking that digging in the soil makes everything a little bit better. tease away children, but i won’t be convinced otherwise. it helps. there’s something cathartic in turning a shovel-full of soil or burrowing my hands deep into dirt. perhaps not best for a manicure, but who worries about those these days anyway? 

the outdoors, y’all—if you haven’t discovered it more keenly since quarantine life, can i suggest you might be missing something? 

you don’t need a garden of eden to explore. perhaps it is only a couple of tomato pots on your balcony or watching a handful of seeds germinate in a sunny, warm window. maybe it is something ambitious like sectioning off an acre or two for late summer vegetables, but it can certainly be walks in a nearby park or sipping your morning coffee to the songs of birds. the options are endless.

working in my yard is something i come by honestly. it’s in my blood. i grew up with a grandpa who was always fiddling with some flower or plant. i can close my eyes and still see him standing with garden hose in hand watering our small patch of city grass. that patch of grass and those sunny orange marigolds of his, i remember them like yesterday. to this day, i cannot see a marigold and not think of my grandpa.

my mom looking over her lovely patio

as each generation often does, my parents took it a step further: by the time i was in high school they had prolific gardens growing all over our backyard. some of you have seen the pictures of the home they just sold last summer. i’ve posted a few below. it has been their shared passion for decades. i love that. i love that for years they have spent days digging side by side and evenings sitting in their garden, sipping a glass of something and talking about their lilies or lilacs. even up to last year, my mom would count her day lilies every single day, keeping a list of her numbers from june through august—some summers counting over 2500 lilies. that is true commitment, people! 

my sister, jess

my siblings and i also share this passion. each one of us approaching it slightly different as we live in unique regions of our country, but all of us wired for this garden thing: dig deep, get dirty, enjoy the fruits and beauty of our outdoor labors. my sister, jess, in her brooklyn brownstone. my sister, nicole, living in the lush pacific northwest, my brother, doug, up in beautiful ohio and me here in the deep south. we just need a southwest sibling growing cacti and succulents and we’d be all set. 

i love that it’s our family thing. 

nicole's gorgeous veggies!

i love that we can send pictures of our blooming butterfly bushes or bright japanese maples. i love that we share excitement over the slow unfurling of leaves or the baby green fronds of new ferns. and we don’t have to explain why we are sharing our photos. we know everyone gets it. growing up together in a one bathroom home in cleveland ohio, we might not always have appreciated each other, but as grown up gardeners spread across our country, we have great appreciation for each other’s outdoor expression.

through this strange time of quarantine, i’ve been so grateful to witness the incredible unfolding of spring in my own yard. daily, i watch nature bursting forth, painting my yard-canvas in bright colors.  i’ve had lots of time to notice and i’m pretty sure i’ve never seen a lovelier spring down here in georgia. 

brooke, modeling me. =)

the yard is my place. chances are you’ll find me out there more often than in my own kitchen. in fact, a few weeks ago, when our family dressed up as each other for some quarantine fun, my son’s girlfriend (brooke) drew my name and dressed as she sees me — twigs in hair and leaf blower in hand. it made me laugh. (see video). i guess that looks a little cra-cra, but it’s truly my happy place. garden hair and i don't care! 

i’ve spent the majority of my quarantine in the yard. 

it keeps me grounded. connected. it keeps me feeling full of hope. the rhythms of nature and the cycles of seasons … there is something comforting and sure about them. when the world stopped in the month of march, nature marched on, marched forward, marched forth. 

burst forth.

there’s no surprise for me that Jesus used the ideas of gardening in His description of our growth in and connection to Him. this makes perfect sense for me. i can’t be in nature and not see Jesus. His plan. His creation. His beauty.

“for since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—His eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.” romans 1:20

it's not only about marveling at the complexity of His design, but we are also to  learn from it. there are countless analogies which explain and encourage us in our relationship with the Lord.  jeremiah tells us --

“they will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. it does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. it has no worries in the a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” jeremiah 17

notice he writes “WHEN heat comes.” it’s not a matter of IF adversity will arrive, but WHEN. because when we are truly rooted in Him —truly rooted near the life giving stream of His holy waters—we will have roots already in place and they will dig deeper and we will not worry and, dear ones, even in great difficulty, we can bear fruit. 

in adversity, where we have positioned ourselves is everything. 

are we close to the stream?

are we close to Him?

or are we depending on ourselves? 

depending on our own perseverance and our  self-mustering strength? 

the degree of heat and the enormity of suffering—though certainly significant —aren’t everything. but WHERE we are in relation to the True Gardener of our souls is what counts most. i know this. i’ve read this passage countless times in my 50+ years, but oh how i need to be reminded of it so often: stay close. stay connected. stay entwined to the True Vine:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. … remain in me, as I also remain in you. no branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. if you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. if you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. if you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. this is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my

disciples. as the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. now remain in my love.” john 15

another word for remain is abide. “ABIDE in me, as i also ABIDE in you. no branch can bear fruit by itself; it must ABIDE in the vine. neither can you bear fruit unless you ABIDE in me.”

all of this time out in my yard, whether growing vegetables or flowers, has convinced me 100% that the only way toward life and growth is to remain well connected to the True Vine. the georgia sun is something quite fierce. even the smallest break from a plant’s life-giving source means sure and certain death. there’s no “kind of” connected or “almost” attached. it doesn’t work that way in nature. it doesn’t work that way in our

human nature either. 

we are not just encouraged to remain and abide, but commanded to do so. why? is it because our God is controlling or is it because our God is compassionate? He knows anything less will leave us completely exposed to the withering heat of adversity. He wants us strong and thriving. challenges, even suffering, are what lead us to greater dependence on Him.

times like these make it clear. times like these make us more aware. if i’m thinking i’ve got enough in me to get through it based on my own preparedness or perseverance, i’m going to quickly find out i’m not nearly enough.  

the heat has come. the adversity is everywhere. and our world is weary.

i need a life-sustaining source. 

i need continual refreshment.

i need the hope of daily renewal.

i need evidence of fruit and growth. 

dear ones, i need what only Jesus can give. 

can i do it perfectly? of course not. no, i must constantly ask Him to keep me close and to help me abide in Him. it is a daily struggle, friends, because our very human nature wants so badly to do it ourselves. there’s just something about us which longs for that autonomy. oh how we love to self-govern. think back to that first sin in the garden of eden. adam and eve wanted their own way too. they were given everything, but they wanted that one fruit outside of God’s best. they wanted to put themselves in control, themselves in charge … and look what happened.

 these are hard times to be sure. but it is times like these which bring us to the end of our stubborn, self-governing selves. when we find out we aren’t enough, we begin searching for the One who is. and maybe this very self-lacking will show us our need for a new beginning: a rooting, a connecting, a depending, a digging deeper than we could possibly dig on our own. 

dear ones, don’t be afraid of not being enough. let it be the very thing which leads us to the life giving waters of Him.

“that is why, for Christ’s sake, i delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. for when i am weak, then i am strong.” 2 corinthians 12:9-11

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” isaiah 40:29

“ah, Sovereign Lord, YOU have made the heavens and the earth by YOUR great power and outstretched arm. nothing is to hard for you.”  jeremiah 32:17

“for since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—His eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.” romans 1:20

it's a marathon

i know lots of marathoners. i, however, am not one of them.  my sisters have both run marathons, my husband, many of my friends, and last year, even my son. but not me. i am not destined to that rockstar category or cut from that kind of commitment cloth. i’m a sprinter. [and not a fast one at that]. don’t get me wrong, i’m about as competitive as they come, but i like the short race, the short game, the quick result. i like to walk away with a trophy or a ribbon or at least a little sweat and move on to the next thing.

i think that’s why i’m struggling a bit with where we are in our covid-19 pandemic.

i thought, by now, it would be all wrapped up.

i thought it might be over.

i thought we’d all be moving on.

but, clearly, we aren’t.

and from much of what i’m hearing, this woman who prefers a sprint has found herself and her entire world smack-dab-in-the-middle of a marathon.

even as we “make the best of it,” and “count our many, many blessings,” it is clear, our globe is growing collectively wearier by the moment. i felt that creeping in this week. ask my kids and husband about the grumpy lady living in their house. they’ll tell you. i don’t marathon well. i want to sprint my way right through this and move on.  i want to see my son graduate from college, i want to watch my littlest one dance in her recital, i want to visit my out-of-state family, i want to take my 30th wedding anniversary trip with my husband … heck, i just want to walk into the grocery store without the creepy movie feeling of mask covered customers.  

please do not hear complaint, hear my candor. i am certain even with these disappointments they pale terrifically in comparison to the heart-crushing stories stretching hard across our world. mine are mine, but, they are minor.

i woke this morning shrouded in that heaviness. burdened deeply, even before the sun showed her face. but in God’s goodness and perfect timing, He led me to this scripture from hebrews:

“let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. for the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” hebrews 12:1 & 2

eight years ago, when our oldest son, tyler, graduated from 8th grade, i was asked to give the graduation address and guess what scripture i used? yep, this very passage from hebrews. i reminded those 14 year old graduates that we couldn't possibly know what "the race marked out for us" might look like, but we can know the way to run "eyes fixed on Jesus," and, our thoughts as well, "consider Him." whatever our race, He is always the way through it. those 8th graders are now graduating this month from college, without any pomp and circumstance, mind you, but with a better understanding of the race marked out for them. what a strange time for them to enter the world of work and adulthood. i'm not sure any of their 16+ years of education could have prepared them for this.

it was good for me to remember that little talk. i needed to give it to myself this morning. 

and though, i’m convicted, i’m also newly encouraged to keep on keeping on. not by my own strength — heavens no! but to keep my eyes on Jesus. to remember the cross He carried so that all of our daily crosses and crises and, even our complaints and disappointments—however big or small—can be handed over to Him. 

we don’t know how many miles this marathon might prove to be, but we can know with certainty that victory is possible. not just at the finish line, but possible in each and every day. because of Him. 

weary ones, i don't know the exact race you are running. i'm sure some of you are facing hills harder and miles longer than i could even begin to imagine. but God's hope and His cross are for all of us—regardless of who we are are or how fast we run. whether you are made to marathon, sprint or just amble along slowly, i do hope this has offered you a bit of encouragement today. fix your eyes on Jesus. consider Him. 

“but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; 

they shall mount up with wings like eagles; 

they shall run and not be wear;

the shall walk and not faint.”  

isaiah 40:31

april 19th & covid-19 & afraid

it was 9 years ago on april 19th when the doctor called to confirm my breast cancer. “i’m sorry, jody, but the pathology is back— the tumor is malignant.” 

i was sitting beneath a giant oak tree in my friend's front yard when i got the call. 

i’m sure i’ll never quite forget that sunny april day —

those blue skies. 

that giant tree.

the feel of the phone awkward on my ear. 

the tears hot down my cheeks. 

the breath leaving my body hard.

that day marked me. seared something deep inside. changed everything all at once. 

i felt like life would never be the same. 

i felt like normal would never quite return.

i felt abandoned by my God and angered at this news. 

how could life be going along so nicely and then in the 30 seconds of a phone call all completely unravel around me? nothing had prepared me for this sudden shift.

i never saw it coming. 

i was blindsided.

and in those weeks of diagnosis, almost daily doctor appointments, and a double mastectomy, i became very afraid. very scared and unsure about what the future might hold. with five young kids, i tried my best to appear calm and in control. i said all the right things. i gave all the right assurances.

but deep within, nothing felt very right or very sure. 

anxiety seemed to be my new found friend. i couldn’t escape it. especially at night. i’d wake to it sitting heavy on my chest. many early mornings i'd crawl out of bed, find a quiet corner and weep. i pled with God. i promised Him everything if He’d only rescue me from cancer and restore my life to normal. 

i didn’t like my april that year.

maybe this april has you feeling something similar. maybe all this covid-19 stuff has brought great anxiety and fear. maybe it has you waking in the middle of the night wondering why. maybe it has you questioning God and His goodness. maybe it has you asking what if and what’s next. maybe it has you longing for normalcy and pleading for things to go back to the way they were before. 

gosh, i get it. 

i’m ready for normal life to return too. 

but as i woke today remembering that april day 9 years ago, i couldn’t help but also remember how God used that hard time in my life to make His holy presence known--louder and clearer and more beautiful than i could have even imagined.

it took some time, yes. but i was able to eventually see how God didn't waste it, but was actually very much at work in it. He hadn’t abandoned me, but He used that time, instead, to help anchor me closer to Him. 
He used that april (and may and june and july) as a wake up call in my life —

a wake up call to new levels of gratitude and grace.

a wake up call to new eyes for His gifts. 

a wake up call to a stronger and more firm faith.

a wake up call to my need for a Savior.

it’s not easy to understand when we are in the midst of suffering or pain. goodness, it isn’t. but it is in these very places—these places of wild wondering and broken weeping—that God shows us His glory. isn't it true, often we have to come to the end of ourselves to see the beginning of our desperate need for Him? 

if i’m honest, up until that point in my life, i kind of was my own savior. i mean i talked the talk all the time, but i really never understood the depth of my need. i just didn’t. it is hard to see a great lacking when things feel pretty lovely.

maybe you’re not liking your april right now either. 

like everyone else, you’re ready for this covid-19 stuff to all be over. but i would encourage us as we are walking through this challenging month to lean into Him … to look to Him … to see what He has to show us--His glory, His gifts, His grace---those things so easy to take for granted when all is going well. ask Him. 

are we in need of an april wake up call? 

that doesn't mean it will be easy. april 19th, 2011 was an incredibly hard day. and it ushered in an incredibly hard few months following. but nine years later, i know that none of it was wasted. God was working even through my anxiety, my anger and in my feelings of abandonment. He used those very things to anchor me to Him. 

"we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the HOPE set before us. we have this as a sure and steadfast ANCHOR of the SOUL, a HOPE that enters into the inner place." hebrews 6:18-19

to Him be the glory forever.

“i consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. for the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. for the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the One who subjected it, in HOPE that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the FREEDOM and GLORY of God.” romans 8: 18-20

dwell. shelter. rest. refuge. 

our world is talking a lot about these words these days. 

of course we are.

we are afraid, unsure, uncertain. 

the present is inconceivable. 

the future unknown. 

and, believe me, i get it. 

i get the fear and the middle-of-the-night anxiety. 

i get the what if’s and the what nexts.

but God’s promise in psalm 91 remains true: DWELL with Him—the Most High—in His SHELTER ... and you will find rest & refuge. 

do these words promise perfect health or a pain free life? no, they do not. but rest & refuge are gifts which go beyond our physical well being. these earthly bodies are only a part of the equation. surely we must know that by now. there must be more. 

and there is. 

rest & refuge are attainable for those in any circumstance. all circumstances. 

THESE circumstances, my friend.

rest & refuge are what we each deeply desire, no matter the demise of disease or the destruction of our days. 

there’s no magic wand to make it all go away, but there is a Mighty Warrior God who calls us to find our rest & refuge in Him. 

a God who can cover us softly with the down of His feathers, and yet, protect us fiercely with the strength of His wings. 

dwell there with Him. 

james 4:8 encourages us “draw near to God, and He will draw near to us.” 

BUT...

how do you draw near?

how do you dwell with Him?

well, begin with your bible, dear ones. start with psalm 91. read His word. you have time. now is the time. 

let's stay home

LET’S STAY HOME. well before anyone had begun to whisper the word “quarantine,” there were trendy wooden signs in home decor stores everywhere across america. perhaps you’ve seen them: hand lettered and ready to hang in our kitchens or hallways. LET’S STAY HOME— a novel idea. because as americans we rarely do. we are go-ers. we go. we’re gone. always on the move. always out the door and on to the next thing. am i right?

i don’t know if it’s freedom or just some strange form of western-escapism or what, but we like to get in our cars or hop on our bikes and head off. head out. we like to leave. and where much of that can be good and some, of course, quite necessary, we have as a country, collectively, forgotten how healthy staying home can actually be.

well friends, it looks like we are about to find out a lot more about what it does mean.

this new “shelter in place” thing we are all doing or on the verge of doing, is going to teach us a few lessons. i know it will. and, what’s more, i have great confidence we are capable of climbing out of this new normal even wiser and wealthier than when we went somewhat anxiously into it. (and by wealthy i (obviously) do not mean financially).

i know we have a lot of questions about the stability of our world and the safety of our families and friends. of course we do. but let’s not get so caught up in the worry that we forget to catch the wonder and gifting of this extra time at home.

we can’t know how long this situation might last, but it could be awhile. and for a lot of us that is going to start feeling strange. probably already does. i understand the anxiousness that is beginning to creep in and camp out. and if all we choose to do is watch the news and listen to the experts and scroll our social media posts, we are going to get ourselves in a pretty serious situation mentally and spiritually, not to mention physically. 

might i suggest a different approach?

yes, keep updated where necessary and be responsibly informed as needed, but instead of dwelling on the disease and the ensuing disasters, let’s use this time well. let’s even choose to see it as a gift. a time out. a reset. a refresh. a chance to renew.

lockdown doesn’t mean locked up. maybe we need to view it as an opportunity to look around, look out or, better yet, look up. 

if we’re honest, most of us would probably admit that we live our lives too busy. we fill our days flitting from one thing to another, feasting on all this world has to offer. whether in work or pleasure, we are good at fitting in a lot. i am so guilty of this—always thinking i can go do or get or accomplish just one more thing. and off i go, running this way and that. 

if i had a nickel for every occasion i’ve heard someone say, “if only i had more time at home.”

but here we are: now facing at least an immediate future where we will be staring at our own four walls and wondering how to best occupy ourselves. we won’t be able to go to the office and immerse ourselves in work or run off to target for some (lovely) retail therapy. we won’t be meeting friends for a coffee or a face to face conversation. we won’t be galavanting out to dinner at the drop of a hat or packing our car for a trip or a sporting event. 

we will be home. 

so, friends, let’s stay home. 

let’s embrace it not just in civil obedience, but also in spirit.

and if at some point it is no longer our choice, let’s continue to embrace it. yes, i imagine, gone will be the “novel idea,” of those cute wooden signs, but how we face anything is STILL up to us. there is STILL (and always) a freedom in how we choose to focus. we forget that.

let’s not loose sight of the fact that there will be many new freedoms found even in this kind of confinement. we will actually have the chance to be in our homes and figure out all of the things therein which we’ve previously been too busy to notice or attend to. year after year. i know that’s true for all of us. i know our lists might look different, but if we stop and think about it, we all have a list and it’s been mentally building for quite some time.

maybe you need to physically make your list. i mean it. go ahead and write down all the things which you’ve always said you’d love to do if you ever just had more time at home to do them. have your kids do the same. write them out, post them somewhere and start a plan of attack. one gift at a time. i’m a big believer in the impact of actually writing things down. mental lists go only so far, especially after 50.(sigh).

board games and puzzles. movies we’ve been waiting to watch. books we’ve been too busy to read. bible studies to begin. closets and clothes to reduce. photos and recipes to organize. cabinets and drawers to tidy. flowers to plant (for some of us—sorry, northern friends). letters to write. new food to cook. walls to paint. music to play. art to explore. science to investigate. lessons to learn. a new hobby to acquire. i could go on, but you get the point.

there are things outside in our yards too! leaves to blow, soil to turn, weeds to pull, fences to paint, sunsets to see and, my personal favorite, BIRDS!  spend some time siting and watching them. just do it. you’ll be surprised how easily and quickly you become attached. before i left emily this past weekend in mississippi, i insisted, while at the super walmart, we purchase her a bird feeder for her backyard. she might have looked at me like i had lost my mind because most people were stocking up on other more important and sundry items that day when we put a bird feeder in our cart. but i promise, bird-watching can be way more spirit-healing than the number of canned goods in our pantry or rolls of toilet paper under our sinks (by the way, that's all craziness). Jesus specifically tells us to “look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away (toilet paper) in barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them. are you not much more valuable than they? can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life.” matthew 6:26-27. 

i know not everyone gets as jazzed up as i do about bird-watching or a well-organized sock drawer, and that’s perfectly understandable. so figure out what matters to you. figure out what’s going to feel good and feel healthy FOR YOU. figure it out, find it, and have some fun doing it. 

gosh, i don’t mean to make it all sound so simplistic. i know there’s a great level of seriousness in what is happening. aside from the real health concerns, we have grave economic, political and survival concerns. i know so many can’t afford to miss even a single day or week of work. that stress is real. and, i am so sorry if that is your situation right now. i truly am. but even if it is, i do believe we can all be better if we can flip our focus and look for the hidden gifts in a time full of so much uncertainty. perfecting our pilates moves or finishing a jigsaw puzzle isn’t going to solve for the coronavirus, but it can help us  stay healthy and do our part.

one last note, maybe the most heartbreaking of all of this—at least in my mind—is the kids that live in risky, hard places. i’m not naive enough to believe every child is feeling safe, well-cared for and loved while at home. and though i can’t do a lot about any of that from indoors, i can be more mindful and everyday lift this heaviness up to my heavenly Father. and, yes, there’s another thing we can work on — our prayer lives! we certainly have ample material. 

perhaps the most important thing we can work on in our homes would be the relationships under our roofs — the people we love but don’t always take time for -- the children or spouses to whom we sometimes half-listen or hardly hear. the ones we often take for granted or find ourselves frustrated with. let's connect better with them. let’s use this time for each other. maybe we can spend more time talking. listening. sitting still together. walking together. playing together ... even praying together.

i’m a homebody. always have been. even though some people disagree, i’m an introvert through and through. i’ve always treasured my time alone and i really do like to be in my home. i love to nest and care for those around me. but i am not very good at being still. and, for me, that will be my personal challenge — to soak in the stillness which staying home brings and listen closer to the voice of Jesus. 

for years i’ve had this quote on my blog, “make time for the quiet moments, as God whispers and the world is loud.”  the world is about to grow quiet. maybe for the first time in our lives. what an opportunity to listen for the voice of God.

friends, be safe. be blessed. be home.  

and if we come out of this as budding artists, better cooks, sharper scientists or, yes, even wine connoisseurs ... well, then let's count that all as a blessing!

“be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” ~ psalm 46:10

"he who DWELLS in the SHELTER OF THE MOST HIGH will ABIDE in the shadow of the Almighty. i will say to the Lord, "my REFUGE and my FORTRESS, my God, in whom i trust."

~ psalm 91:1-2

“in quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” isaiah 30:15

january christmas cards

just this january afternoon i finally managed to carve out some time with our pile of christmas cards. i might get a quick glance as they arrive throughout the busy month of december, but i truly relish the chance to sit with them, looking and reading a little more closely. they are wonderful! 

christmas cards are ... 

1. BEAUTIFUL REMINDERS. these cards are reminders of the many lovely people God has placed in our lives. people we can’t always keep up with on a regular basis, but, people we treasure—high school and college friends, colleagues and coaches, relatives and relationships we hold dear. “i thank my God every time i remember you.” philippians 1:3.

2. MUCH NEEDED UPDATES! the new faces and jobs. the accomplishments, adventures and new addresses! what an amazing group of people you are. truly! it is a blessing and a joy to read your words and see your smiles. what a gift to watch your families grow and change over all these years. as most of our peer group has crossed over the 50 year line now, we are all looking a little older too! lol. our kids are graduating, getting married and even having babies themselves. that’s crazy. but it’s crazy good.

3. A TINY SLICE OF LIFE. christmas cards—like social media— give us only a glimpse.
when our kids were little it was challenging to line us all up, clean and smiling for a family portrait once a year. i thought that was really hard. but as we’ve journeyed through these years, i have come to realize that a smiling picture of an intact family isn’t really that hard at all. it’s the living between those snapshots which challenges each and every one of us. doesn’t matter how pristine or perfect the picture, we all have some pretty messy days which don’t make it into the annual christmas card. i love that some of you do take the time to share not only the joys, but also the challenges. it is a blessing to rejoice with you, but even more, it is a blessing to share in the struggles. i love that so many of you have found your hope in the Lord. how encouraging! what a beautiful thing to witness your families—some broken and bruised—but all so beautiful.

4. THEY ARE WHAT THEY ARE.
i know some of you took the year off. or the decade. and some of you stressed over the perfect picture, arranged outfits and languished over the letter. however you did them—or didn’t do them—just know, it’s okay. either way. we are so thankful to keep in touch a little through social media or through seasonal mail. it’s all good. it’s a pleasure to be reminded of God’s goodness in the gift of you and your friendships. our card this year was nothing to write home about. it was kind of a goofy, chaotic quick picture we managed on one of the only days in 2019 we were all present. i wrote a little update on the back of the photo and when they arrived from “minted” i realized it was barely legible—at least not for middle aged eyesight! live and learn —white writing on a beige background doesn’t really work.

5. A CHANCE FOR PRAYER. your cards will give me a chance to be praying for you. a friend gave me the idea of pulling out a different christmas card each day or each week (not sure yet) and praying over that person, couple or family. i love the idea and plan to commit (or at least try) to this in 2020. (if you want prayer and didn’t send a card, it’s not too late)!

thank you, dear friends and much love to you all!