Christian Confidence

On this blog I've written a lot about those feelings that I, myself, and most women, especially moms, have of inadiquacy or of constant failure. I've also always tried to write about some of the ways Christ redeems those things and how He fills in those gaps. Recently, though, the Holy Spirit has been adamant to point out to me the things I'm doing right, especially in my relationships with other people. I've realized that there are points in my life which seem to be happening more frequently where, because of Christ dwelling in me (which is the point to be made), I do actually say the right things or stick around in just the right moments or love someone the way they needed. When we have the proper understanding of human brokenness and God's perfection, it's easy to forget that God not only allows, but is constantly pushing His children toward success.

It's not often I walk away from a confrontational situation thinking to myself, "Wow, that actually went really well. I think I was patient and loving and I said the words that situation called for." I usually second guess my every utterance or I can only see things from my perspective or I lose my patience and say hurtful things. This is sevenfold in an argument with my husband. Now, every couple has little spats and every couple has the occasional, three-day, all out war. A few months ago, my husbamd and I were right in the middle of the latter. To say I was hurt by some of the things he said would be an understatement. Finally during a stalemate in the fight, I told him I needed to leave the house because I couldn't handle the things he was saying to me for another minute. As I was driving away, I began to really see that many of the things had said actually meant that he was hurting too.

I turned around and went back home. I was able to tell him (and maybe for the first time truly mean it) that I was going to stick around and love him even if it hurt, even if he was wrong, even if in that moment the future seemed all but clear.

I have to admit that many other fights at many other times, my go-to defense to being hurt is to hurt back. This conscious decision to love despite having my heart torn up so badly, was not of or from me. It was Christ in me. A few years ago, when my marriage and my salvation were new, my reaction to this fight would have been less than loving, and (needless to say) NOT Christ-like.

John chapter 15 is a beautiful section of the Bible in which Jesus addressed His current and all future disciples. He let them know that He set them all free, former slaves that He now calls friends. He says that this wasn't of our own doing, but that we bear fruit as His followers because of the work done by Him, Jesus Christ, and the Father. He then gives us the commandment to love one another as He has loved us. He's letting us know that through His death (laying His life down for His friends), He has given us the ability to to truly love as He has, it is His love dwelling in us.

This fight was a big moment for me because of the clarity I recieved about my standing before God. He has been faithful to me by making me more like Himself. God's faithfulness to my sanctification increases my faith exponentially. I would argue that these difficulties in marriage or in motherhood or in any human relationship serve to make us more confident believers. It's really not that we are more confident in our abilities to navigate those situations, it is a confidence that our continued exposure to Christ becomes more evident in our actions, therefore we can trust that those situations will be resolved for the good of all of God's children. I can stop fighting for myself because the God of the universe has already won all the battles in my favor. I can be concerned with the welfare of the people I'm closest to because that is the concern Jesus has commanded.

This is the confidence I think I've been waiting for all of my life. It's not body confidence, it's not confidence in my own abilities, it's not security in Earthly posessions. This confidence comes from the Lord who is, among all His other wonderful characteristics, our ultimate confidant: a dependable friend, fully worthy of our trust in all things. I am changed for having trusted Him and I see the evidence in His love pouring out of me and into those around me. In this confidence I can approach God in all my struggles and trust Him to just say "I got this."

While we fall short so often, I just want to encourage all my fellow believers to walk in a way which shows that you know that your failings are not nearly so awful that they cancel out the great victory won for you by Jesus Christ.

Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

Hebrews 10:19‭-‬25 ESV

An Answer to Mommy's Prayer

This little girl of mine pretended to sleep on the couch for over an hour. When she first laid down I came over to ask her how she was feeling, because while she is like me in many ways, one way that we are very different is this: simply lying on the couch is just not her thing. She didn't give me much of an answer, she just closed her eyes. I checked to see of she was feverish, first with a hand on her forehead, and then with a kiss. It was maybe a mother's sixth sense or perhaps the tiny smile I caught on her face, but I knew my little pixie who never ever needs her momma wanted to be my baby again. So I stroked her hair and cheeks, kissed her head, and scratched her back. I used this short time to lay my hands on her and pray for her. All the while, she kept squeezing her eyes closed tightly, occasionally trying to peak at my face. She even tried to make her breathing seem deeper now and then. I played along, brought her a blanket and a pillow. I was all too happy to oblige her in a rare bit of dependence on me. From the time I found out she was a girl while she was still in my womb, I've obsessed about how to protect her. Her sweet-but-independent spirit is both reassuring that God created her with "built-in" protections and terrifying that the day when she actually doesn't need me will come all too quickly.

Here's the funny (not so funny) part: I had just been lying on the couch myself, praying, begging God to help me to be a better mother. The exhaustion of the past couple days, weeks, months had me feeling like a failure. I wasn't even sure exactly what I was failing at because it just felt like it was pretty much everything.

And there she was, God's immediate answer to my prayer. His answer to motherhood and its struggles.  The Spirit of Christ gifted to me and permanently set deep in my heart allows me to have a love for these children too heavy and beautiful for words. It wasn't that I was able to appreciate this little moment in that "excuse the mess, my kids are making memories," Pinterest mom kind of ways. It was just a reminder that I've gotten from God on a hundred different days in a hundred different ways: these kids are great and all I want to do is love them.

I'm going to fail my kids because I'm human. I'm going to have days when I haven't really failed them, but I'll still feel like I have anyway. But because God has never failed me, I can just go on loving them in the way that He has taught me. I can be dependent on the hope that God prunes and grows and makes me better. I can go on simply loving my big girl who will always be my first-born baby because He so loved me.

The Value in Grief

I think I've been pretty open about my struggle with depression, but there's something that's a lot more difficult for me to talk about: grief. I think I made the assumption that because I have depression, grief had less power over me. Sort of like in the first Avengers movie when Bruce Banner says that his secret to not becoming The Hulk when he was angry was that he was always angry. It wasn't that I thought I couldn't feel grief or that it wouldn't effect me, but I thought it was already there. 

I was wrong.

When unimaginable hurt came along, it crushed me and grief was what I was left with. Scripture tells us that there is a time for mourning and that our Church family will and should mourn with us, but those things don't make me want to stay in my grief any longer than I have to. That's because these verses and our lives consist of both joy and sorrow.(Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, Romans 12:15)

What person in their right mind would choose grief over joy? Well, in my experience, the answer to that question is much more complicated than it seems. 

I want to use a lot of words from here on out like "us" and "our" and "we" for a couple reasons. One is that I want you to know that even though your grief feels as if it is yours alone, and no one else in the world has ever experienced grief like yours, you are not alone. And the other reason is to remind you that grief finding its way to you is not a matter of "if" but a matter of "when." We are in this together.

When others hurt us, it's easy to believe that if we are to offer grace to the person inflicting the pain, it devalues our grief. If he or she doesn't acknowledge our pain or if he or she offers us no repentance, how can we offer grace so freely? If that person is hurting us, though, I would argue that they couldn't have had a very high value of our grief in the first place. We do not need that person to value our pain in order for us to offer grace, and in turn to heal. 

There's Someone else who does value our pain. Jesus Christ Himself was charged to be a Man of Sorrows (Isaiah 53:3-5). He values our pain because He has felt it, or He would not be the advocate in Heaven we are so desperately in need of. (Hebrews 2:17&18) God collects the tears of sinners, He keeps a record of every sorrow of every one of His sons and daughters, the very same sons and daughters who were once His enemies. (Psalm 56:8)

God places this high value on our sorrow probably for many reasons. But I believe one of them is to validate our grief so that we may have joy again. 

Once we realize that our sorrow has value and that it is not dependent on the actions of anyone other than Christ, we can revisit the idea of grace. I'm sure you've noticed that I'm using the word "grace" instead of "forgiveness." I do this because grace is a gift that encompasses forgiveness, but also so much more. God offers His grace as a gift and as many gifts go, it is a package. We open this package and in it we find faith, forgiveness of our sins, reconciliation to the Father, eternal life, righteousness, a relationship with God, and even more than I could attempt to describe. So, we must offer so much more than forgiveness to those who have hurt us. We must offer grace. In that package, we not only find freedom from grief through forgiving another his or her trespasses as the Father has forgiven us. We also find an opportunity (with patience) to have reconciliation, to repair the relationship with the person who has wounded us. This may seem like the last thing we want, to play the fool and open ourselves up to the possibility of being hurt again. However, the Holy Spirit has revealed to me that those mended relationships also open us up to the possibility of the joy that is our birthright as Christians. Let's look at this section from Hebrews. It's a bit long but, just stick with me.

"Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed. Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no 'root of bitterness' springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled; that no one is sexually immoral or unholy like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal. For you know that afterward, when he desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no chance to repent, though he sought it with tears."

Hebrews 12:12‭-17

I'm going to try to sum up my understanding of this verse in the context of my time of sorrow at the hand of another.

When our rightful grief harbors in us ungodly bitterness that does not allow for grace, we are selling our birthright of joy in the Lord and with His people, for the temporary relief of pain that the "forgive and forget" mentality offers us. 

God the Father, by sending His Son, Jesus Christ, to be heavy laden with His own sorrow and our sin, and the Holy Spirit to draw us in, has reconciled us to Himself. Therefore, we CAN be reconciled to each other, out of grief and hurt and loss and uncontrollable pain. Never discount the ability of Christ to be the foundation of any relationship and in turn, the corner stone of healing and reconciliation. 

All this to be said, I'm not there yet. I'm still in the grief, but in this time of sorrow the Holy Spirit, sent to be a Comforter (John 14:16), has already brought all this to me. I realize and beg for all the comfort and knowledge He has for me in a time when I can't seem to get off my knees.

Praise You, God for Your redemption of all things. Thank you, for teaching and pruning me. I'm answering You with a willing heart and an anticipation for the joy that is to be had in Your reconciliation, whatever form that takes. Amen.

King Over the Water

Can I just vent here for a minute? I am so tired. Not only am I tired, I'm tired of being such a steaming hot mess. I know so many of you can relate, I know I'm not alone. But I feel like I'm the hot mess. 

Me, looking the hot mess I am

I started a new job recently and there's nothing like a new job to tear away the facade and show just how clumsy and forgetful and absent minded I can really be. Just in the first week at my new job, I was 30 minutes late because of a sick child and on the second day the child that had been sick showed up to her childcare (which is also where I work) with her face looking completely torn up. She had thrown a fit in the parking lot over me apparently bringing the wrong backpack. As I was attempting to tame the tantrum, I spilled my coffee and dropped just about everything I own on the ground, all with a very large one-year-old in my arm. That's when my three-year-old decided to tear herself free of my grip on her hand and landed face first on the sidewalk. 

Lately, every day at some point I have these moments. Every. Single. Day. It feels as if I am just constantly cleaning messes, and not just the ones my kids make. I make plenty of my own messes, with locking my keys in my car... twice in one day, forgetting to pay bills, and losing my temper with my husband. And it seems like it's all out of my control. Sure, I could pay more attention, I could be less forgetful, but how in the heck do I do that? How do I change myself when this is all I can ever remember being (not that my memory is all that great, obviously)?

Some of my readers may remember the meaning behind my blog's name, A Mom in Deep Waters. In my experience, water has always been a symbol of something wild and totally out of human control. It is something always present and vital to life, yet it is something so powerful and sometimes deadly. This is not only true of the use of water as a symbol in the Bible, but also in literature, poetry, and even contemporary song lyrics. (See an expanded version of this theory in a previous post, here.)

I am feeling surrounded by my blunders, like I'm lost out at sea, just waiting for the waters to swallow me up, to drown in my own mistakes. 

But for all the messes there is one Messiah.

The Holy Spirit has opened my eyes to another piece of the ancient metaphor I obsess over. The things of this world, our sins and our silly slip-ups, are like water surrounding us, rain ever pouring down, threatening to drown us. Jesus showed us, however, He has all control over the water.

So many of Jesus' miracles were centered around water. At a wedding celebration, He turned water into wine. 

Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. And he said to them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the feast.” So they took it. When the master of the feast tasted the water now become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the master of the feast called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and when people have drunk freely, then the poor wine. But you have kept the good wine until now.” --John 2:7-10 (ESV)

Jesus takes these waters, these sins and hardships, and makes them something completely new. He uses these times to surprise us, to delight us. So many times, I have looked back at the stupid things I've done and been so grateful they happened because so much good came of them. Often times, we don't even see that it is Jesus working. The people at the wedding had no idea that their wine used to be water or who had made the exquisite vino. When I can't change myself or my circumstances, I can trust that Jesus can and is most likely already working on the transformation.

Jesus also calmed waves and rain in a storm.

And they woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” And they were filled with great fear and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” --Mark 4:38-41

Jesus is a sovereign king who removes sin. He has complete control over the water and does stop it from consuming us. I cry out to a Savior with perfect hearing. I pray to my God and I am heard and made righteous, though I continue to sin.

Jesus even walked on water.

And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” and they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.” --Matthew 14: 25-27

Jesus walked on the water, out to his followers. He didn't ask them to come to shore to pick Him up. He doesn't ask me to constantly be returning to him when I should. He seeks me out, calls to me with the Holy Spirit. The Father has adopted me into the flock and Jesus is the Shepherd who came to Earth, to the mess and the muck, out to the raging sea, all to pull me out of it at His own expense. Jesus' death on the cross was His hand pulling me above the water to walk with Him as a co-heir of Heaven. Like a drowning child, I fight Him, flail as He tugs me from the water. But now I am safe in His grasp. 

This is the "thrill of hope" referred to in O Holy Night. As that holy night approaches, Jesus is reminding me that He, the baby we think about so much at this time of year, became a man, fully man and fully God, the greatest man who ever lived, as I tell my three-year-old. He is the only man and leader with the ability to bend water to His will and to form my life like a beautiful sculpture to bring the Artist glory. Praise be to Him. Happy birthday, my sweet Jesus.

6 Things I Learned from Getting Fit

I like to share about the things I'm learning on this blog. I love the idea that I am constantly learning, especially about Jesus. But today we are going to take a little break from my usual type of blog post. I really just want to share some things I am learning from a huge lifestyle change for me that is currently underway.

I am at the beginning of a fitness journey and have had many struggles with it. My body itself is working against my will power as I fight hormonal issues. The struggle, however, is one of the best opportunities any of us have to learn. So, these are some of the things I have learned from this paricular struggle. Note, these are things that are true for me and this is not medical or specific advice because everyone is different and I'm far from an expert.

1. Never ever comment on another person's body or their fitness.

Before, and I mean literally just days before, I started getting really serious about getting fit, I would talk about other people who were fit. "Oh, that person is so obsessed with working out. It seems so self absorbed," and the like. As I have seemingly become one of those people, though, I've experienced the hard work that goes into a good workout or sticking to healthy eating. I know now the difference between obsession and commitment. And the difference between narcissism and just wanting to share that you have accomplished something. So, it doesn't matter if you see a woman with "manly" muscles or a dude with a beer gut, just keep your mouth shut. At this point, or maybe at any point, there's no way a person could tell how fit I am or how much I work at it just by looking at me. The truth is, you just never know. By all means, be an encouragement to anyone who has opened up a dialogue about their health. Many cliches, come to mind: don't judge a book by its cover, walk a mile in someone else's shoes, etc. Just be kind, I believe is the point.

2. My scale is my enemy.

While I feel so much better and I look a little better, my scale hasn't budged very much. It is a monster that lives on my bathroom floor and, although I stand on it quite frequently, it is not yet under my feet. When is spits a number out at me, I often let it ruin my day. I have had to pray for a change in thinking because it is so engrained in our culture to measure success in health with a scale. I'm not going to say that I've stopped weighing myself. I can't seem to give it up. I just have to know that stupid number, but I am slowly learning to give it less credit. I am listening to my body. I know what makes me feel healthy and good. Turns out, my weight has little to do with that. While I can't yet vanquish the little monster from my bathroom (maybe I just know how to keep my enemies close), I am finding less validation from the number on its face.

3. Exercise isn't a cure-all.

I have struggled with depression and anxiety for all of my adult life. There are so many tricks that people have told me to combat it and exercise is always, always, always one of them. I'm here to tell anyone who struggles with the same things that it's true. Working out and expending all that pent up energy helps a whole lot. But it doesn't fix it. (I would argue that the cure I'm looking for is in Jesus when He calls me home.) Don't start exercising with the mindset that every day from here on out is going to be daisies and unicorns. I still have bad days, bad weeks even. Working out is a release and a relief from the depression and anxiety. I get tons of endorphins flowing lots of days and can see full glasses and silver linings. And then some days I can't get off the couch. The key has been to stay commited after the bad days pass and to be realistic with myself.

4. The comparison game only hurts.

Every single person is different. When I see people with amazing results, that little voice in the back of my head starts in. "Well, you'll never look like that." "Oh, they must have a better metabolism." "At least you're doing better than this other person." When I start to compare myself to anyone else, I feel my motivation die a little bit each time. I would encourage anyone just starting a fitness journey to compete only with themselves. And even when competing with myself, I have to learn a lot about grace. My improvements are slow and steady and I backside a lot, so it's important for me to keep my eyes ahead, to the long term.

5. Changing the way I eat has been the hardest part, by far.

There are just so many factors to consider when deciding what to eat. My diet (I use the word "diet" to describe what I eat and the guidelines I use, not a temporary fad to quickly reach a goal) seems to have changed a thousand times since I started. I've finally settled on eating cleaner and balance. I can't measure every ounce of each meal or count every calorie. Or maybe I just refuse to. While I know a stricter diet would get me to my goals quicker, I have to do what is reasonable and and accessable to me. Honestly, I still very much feel like I haven't figured out what I should and shouldn't be eating. That's probably because there isn't a magical diet that will transform my body overnight. My focus now is on being consistent, which is definitely the hardest part of the hardest part.

6. It is really hard for me to talk about the specifics of my diet and exercise with people.

I have made my fitness journey very public on social media. It helps me to stay accountable and it helps me just to track my progress for myself. It has also opened up a conversation with many people that I'm not necessarily close with. Many people have reached out to me to tell me I've inspired them or to encourage me. It really is one of the best feelings in the world to have people cheering for me. There have also been many people who have asked for the specifics about how I work out or what I eat. I both love and hate this. I am a fitness novice. I learn new things all the time and I am very sure that what I have been doing has helped me tremendously. But I still have so much doubt when I try to tell others about it. I can't help but think that anyone I'm talking to is secretly picking apart my workouts or thinking that I will never make progress if I keep eating this cetain type of food. I have this fear because I catch myself doing it to others (see #1 on this post). We are humans and so many times our knee-jerk reactions can be to think that we know what is best for someone without even knowing their whole story. So, I tend to keep quiet about what I eat or what my favorite workout is. It is just so hard to push past that innate feeling that we aren't good enough. I don't even have a lesson or a moral for this one, it's just something I often deal with.

Overall, being realistic with myself and consistent in my work has been the take away from my fitness experience so far. And even those very basic goals have taken many, many baby steps. The set-backs and slip-ups are innumerable, but like I've said before, praise Jesus it's not my job to be perfect.

Your Identity and Where to Find It

For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

Galatians 3:27-28

So often I find myself questioning if I'm a good mother or a good wife. Am I appreciated? If I were gone, what would be missing in my household? I have to admit that deep down, I hope that there is a huge, gaping hole in my absence. Deep down, I want my husband to believe that his life would be unbearably difficult without me. Deep down, I want my children to long for my hugs every moment that I'm away. Sometimes, the world tells me that these are reasonable desires, that feeling this way just means I care.

Really, though, what it means is I am staking my happiness in things that will ultimately disappoint me. I am looking for myself in my family being satisfied with me and the work I do. Turns out, however, that my husband and kids are human beings. (*Gasp!* I know, right?!)

By nature my family (especially the two year old) is not very easily satisfied. It doesn't matter if the work I do for them comes from the deepest, purest part of my heart where I genuinely want to offer up myself for the advancement of their health and happiness. They certainly aren't satisfied when I'm just plain tired and grumpy and I heat up hot dogs for dinner because I just plain don't want to do anything at all. I fail my family daily and when I see myself in just those moments, I am buried in shame and guilt.

Now, hear this: I am not trying to make my husband out to be some ungrateful leech, because he's not. He's just an imperfect person like me. If I look for my identity in every "thank you" from him, or in the rare unsolicited kiss from my children, the reflection I will see will be a disheartened and spiritually malnourished shell of a woman.

But there's good news. There is always, always good news. Jesus has me. He offers me His identity. All that work, all that guilt and shame, all the heated up hot dogs, all the times I raised my voice, every instance I thought I deserved a "thank you" are covered under Jesus' finished work on the cross. Jesus' innocence and beauty are the mounds of fresh, white fallen snow over the human, muddy mess in my home.

Through His salvation, Jesus offered us a new identity. Not just a fresh start so that we can mess it up all over again. His salvation is a protective helmet placed upon our heads to mark a people as His own and to show others who our King is. When you see a Roman soldier in full armor in your favorite historical movie, the first thing you look at is that iconic, brilliant red plume round the top of his helmet. You know that guy is Roman, that he's tough, that he belongs to a brotherhood, that he is important because he represents an empire. Our brilliant red plume is the blood of Jesus, spilled for us in order to make us like him: strong in faith, loyal friends until the bitter end, and representatives of God's kingdom here on Earth. (See Ephesians 6:10-20)

Jesus came to found God's Church and make it His bride. Wedding photographers always make sure to have a camera aimed at the groom the moment his bride walks in so they can catch that once in a lifetime smile on his face as he sees the love of his life in a whole new light. That's the moment I get to live in as a Christian. Jesus is looking at me in a sparkling white gown, his heart filling up with love, knowing His bride is the right choice, and I guarantee you he's grinning from ear to ear. That bride, that is who I am.

Add to this moment the Father, in a constant state of pride and righteous jealousy for my affections. For all eternity He will see me exactly as a brand new daddy holding His baby girl for the first time. Is there any second quite so sweet as laying eyes on a tiny face, so fresh and untouched by this world? That's me, that daughter with no understanding of His love, because when He sees me He is gazing down into the face of His only Son in whose work He is fully satisfied.

Add one more time to this moment, the Holy Spirit. He is counting my tears and comforting me with the perfect sympathy of a best friend on my worst day. As my shoulders heave and the sobs can't be stifled, He is there to squeeze me tight and tell me it's all right, it's taken care of, Jesus paid it all. I am inexplicably joyful to be that weepy mess as long as His arms are around me.

So I will take on the identity God has given me. I am a beautiful bride, a newly adopted daughter, and an old friend, only so long as it is Jesus Christ who makes me those things, which incidentally is forever.

For in him the whole fullness of Deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority.

Colossians 2:9-10

Better Promises: What I Learned from Buying a House

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. 

Hebrews 11:1

In our search for a house, my husband and I visited dozens of houses and scrolled through many, many more online. 

At least three times, I walked into a house and thought, "Yes, this is it. This is where I want my family to live." We could not buy any of those three houses for one reason or another. 

When I walked into the house we would eventually purchase, my thoughts were probably some where along the lines of "Hmmm... this is okay. I guess we could live here." 

After asking for lots of advice from others, we made our offer and the work really started. We were scrounging for documents, making phone calls, and meeting with all sorts of people for around three months. 

I dreamed of paint colors and where each piece of furniture I owned would go. Slowly, I fell in love with the house (all while trying not to get my hopes up since we'd had a contract fall through once already.)

Even as things felt unsure and when all the paperwork seemed endless, the whole process still went surprisingly smoothly. 

During the Limbo period of wanting this house so badly, but not wanting my heart broken, I was inspired to make a wreath shaped like a rabbit for Easter. I had the design in my head and slowly purchased the materials as they went on sale. Maybe it's silly, but I just loved the idea of making something to hang on the door of the house we were working so hard to get. 

But I was afraid to make the wreath. I was afraid that if I finished it, I wouldn't have a door to hang it on. 

Soon, though, I just couldn't stand it. I had to put all the flowers and bits of ribbon together. I knew they would make something beautiful. I also knew that God had something beautiful in store for us. 

I realized that I had faith that the promise God had placed on my heart was going to be fulfilled. My family would have a house with a door to place my lovely little wreath on. Because of who God is and everything He's done for me and my family, because God is a Father who has always provided and never abandoned, my faith in Him is made strong. 

So, I made my wreath. 

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God
Ephesians 2:8

That very day I watched all the puzzle pieces fall into place. I felt as if I'd taken a step out onto the water. Maybe I'd faltered, but there was always a hand to pull me up. The stress of it all may have felt a little like drowning, but signing the closing papers felt like the sweet relief of breath as Jesus pulled me up from the sea. (See Matthew 14:22-33)

Now, we own a house. I love this little house because of what it is, but also what it means to me. 

According to Hebrews chapter 8, when Moses was given the plan for the tent which would serve as God's dwelling place on Earth, the plans were but a shadow of heavenly things, of God's true dwelling place. Then Jesus came and established the new covenant so that our hearts were holy enough for God to dwell in us. There is no longer any need for the tent or the temple. 

Jesus has taken up His seat in Heaven in order to set up my eternal dwelling place because someday I won't need this house. 

I love and serve a God who fulfills His promises and then makes better promises!

But as it is, Christ has obtained a ministry that is as much more excellent than the old as the covenant he mediates is better, since it is enacted on better promises.

Hebrews 8:6

Praise Him! Praise Him with me for my house and for my forever Home. And what better season is there to celebrate a new home than that of the Easter season? Spring is a marker of new life and, even better, Easter is a time to rejoice in the new life given to us by Jesus Christ! So, again, I say praise Him!