Grateful Acres

 We will be announcing the release date for The Unfolding this week! There are just a few things to wrap up, and then the project will be finished! Here's a peek at some of the photos from the live event, and in the weeks between now and the official release, we will be sharing clips of video, more photos, and testimonies from hearts that were moved through the process. Even a few weeks after recording week, I still have moments where I feel awe that this is even real. I have looked back at the posts I shared when I was realizing what God was stirring in me, and every time I am so impressed with His extravagance. I had NO IDEA how big His dreams were for us! I had no idea how swift and thorough and deep He would be. In the weeks before, and on the night of, we were all humbled and honored by the resounding support we saw from our community. A handful of people gave generously to cover the cost of recording, and lots and lots of people came and took care of all the...

Several handfuls of years ago God asked me to live my life with my heart open to other people. He wanted (wants!) me to let people see into me and watch Him change and grow me. This is why I wrote openly, in real-time while carrying the daughter we didn't get to keep. This is why I have written about motherhood, and the crazy, life-changing places God has taken my heart. I knew writing this album would be a new volume of living open, but I had no idea the extent! I'm learning that I squirm pretty deeply when I have to be messy in front of people. I'm okay with sharing that I have mess, had mess, but BEING messy in front of anyone but my man is quite uncomfortable. Sharing original music with friends is like opening up the deepest of myself, and spilling out my mess for them. Allowing friends to help with the refining of my music is like allowing them to wade through my vulnerable places, turn things over, and move my piles of... mess. This is req...

In May of 2015 a musical explosion began in my heart. Something broke in worship, and all of a sudden I was different- I AM different. In the quiet of the night, music and lyrics began to spill out of me, awakening a dream I had buried. I thought I had missed the season of life that this dream should have happened in, and tucked it safely away for another time... when our kids are older, when my brain is less cluttered and my home less noisy... if it happened at all. But each time I hesitated in the middle of lyric and song, I felt more and deeper that the time is now. The noise and the chaos and clutter are part of what He uses to shape me, and what better time to write than as I'm being molded. I've decided to take a risk, and breathe life to the dream again. I am choosing to walk through each door He opens and see where He leads me. Currently, I'm deep into writing a worship album. This blog may stay a little sparse for a little while, but I have opened a venue for...

"Mom? ...MOOOOOOMMMMMMM" "I'm changing a diaper, Bud, what do you need?" "I need youuuuuuuuu." "Hold on, I need to wash the poop off my hands..." "I need you NOW- the toilet is overflowing!!" I run up the stairs, hoping the freshly-changed toddler doesn't follow and fall down the stairs. After that I thought maybe I'd actually pour that cup of coffee. But then the toddler dumped mini, plastic hair ties all over the other bathroom floor, and the preschooler needed to go potty. Ok, that coffee. But it was really quiet... where's the toddler? (She was dumping out Great Grandma's jewelry in the master bedroom) "Mommy, hold me please?" "Can we have pancakes?" (says the boy that has already gotten out a bowl and spoon and ingredients, and placed them on top of the stack of bills on the counter) Hang on, guys, I want to pour my coffee. "Mommy, hold me?" Then came the...

I recently wandered back through some things I wrote in real-time while walking through some of the tougher parts of my slice of life. In small ways my emotions re-felt each wave... joy, beautiful memories of the boys when they were small, anxiety, waiting, resolve, peace, growth, love, relationship, heartbreak, and the nearness of God. I was the most struck by the nearness and ENORMITY of God. I read some things that were written from all the perspective I had at the time, and now that those things are over I can see what GOD was doing in the middle of it. He was there, He was active, His heart was as deeply involved in my life as mine was. I pushed the laptop aside, and flopped back on my couch in the dark, and stared at the ceiling, looking for Him. As His face leaned down toward mine, I was reminded of waves of history, like swells crashing onto shore in my mind. When my Grandparents were born, He was there. When our country began, He was there. Back through the generations,...

Sometimes I feel Him calling to me. I'm bustling about with all my daily usual and the hubub of a home that is teeming with life, and this voice like a gentle wind winds it's way past my cheeks. He calls to me until I respond. Morning snuggles, a bottle, some cereal... He calls me still with that wind. Schoolwork, housework, washing diapers, He calls to me. When I turn my attention to the wind I feel a sudden urge to gather my tool belt. My instinct is to grasp at my sword and strap on my traveling boots- the King is calling for me to follow Him, and I prepare for battle, for adventure and dazzling sights. He is Magnificent, a mighty and powerful King- always advancing His beautiful, victorious kingdom, and I'm thrilled to be invited along! What are we doing today, my King? He takes me gently forward, to the most unexpected of places. His mind is not on high slopes or raging rivers, He takes me in to the garden. In where the vines grow over my head and I'm shaded ...

I've stepped into a new place, laced with both familiar and unknown. Familiar is the wind sweeping and slashing around me, blowing bits of past and future in unpredictable swirls, messing up my hair and pulling at any loose clothing. Familiar is the resolve of muscles held tight in their place, and familiar is the sword raised above my head. Familiar is the stake I drive into the ground before me, the refusal to turn from the truth I know and taste, despite the storm. The unknown stands before me now, that wind still stirring and messing, pushing at my frame. The unknown is a softening inside me- not the kind of softness that allows for doubt, but the kind that gives way to unclenched muscles and a crumpled form on the ground. It's the kind of softness that feels vulnerable and... unknown. The truth is still in my eyes, but my posture has changed. Most of my being wants to rise up and raise that sword, stepping back into the stance of contending that I know so well. But thi...