Grateful Acres

He's a collector, you know, of the worst kind. He collects disappointment, pain, patterns. He collects failure, mistakes, mindsets. Over and over he replays them, carefully turning up the volume until all the misery is shouting in my ears. He uses vulnerable spots to press on me, hoping I'll shrink away from the pain, further away from the ones that love me the most, weaving misery across my eyes until I can't see their love anymore. He used an old trick, and tricked me again. You see, any pain or failure or disappointment that I've given to the Lord, the enemy can't touch anymore. He can't dangle those and lure me away, because they are no longer mine. He can't steal from the Lord of heaven and earth. He steals from me, and from you. He steals the things I think are still mine. Seven years ago today, I gave birth to a daughter we didn't get to keep. The pain of searing loss was so great, I had to completely, thoroughly give her to the Lord. My hear

Catchy title, right? A dear friend and I were both recently inspired to reconsider our definitions of submission and surrender, and to search the scriptures for perspective. What we found was shocking- the scripture has much less mention of surrender than I expected. But what about all our powerful, modern worship music about surrender?? What did we miss? Let's think about our cultural connotations for "surrender" for a moment. There are undertones of loss, giving up, defeat. Google defined "surrender" as such: Surrender: to cease resistance to an enemy or opponent, and submit to their authority And what about submission? (Don't freak out, hang with me a minute!) I think we've missed something here. Nothing the Lord asks of us should inspire us to climb the walls... He is GOOD! Google helped me with "submit" as well: Submit: 1) to accept or yield to a superior force or to the authority or will of another 2)to present

My mom often says motherhood is like waking up on a moving conveyor belt. I think she's onto something. We stumble into the kitchen, a little too early again, and greet yesterday's unfinished kitchen. The dishwasher needs emptying before dinner (and breakfast, which isn't made yet) dishes can be cleared from the sink. Feelings of overwhelm and never-ending relay start to click at our heels. Good morning, welcome to all that wasn't completed yesterday. School starts later than always hoped, because of the above paragraph, and a few "character training" moments that don't fit on the schedule or to-do list. You've heard all this before. More "character training" is required between subjects and lessons and between math problems, and the mental list of "incompletes" continues to grow. So does that feeling of failure, overwhelm. In the living room Mt. Laundry hollers each time we walk past, unmade beds and stuffed closets call