Seeing Through Different Eyes

These are the words I sang to her last night…

“You will be safe in His arms. You will be safe in His arms
The hands that hold the world are holding your heart
This is the promise He made, He will be with you always
When everything is falling apart, you will be safe in His arms.”

And I held her close. Reminded myself that He holds her tighter. He loves her more.

The text I had just sent my Mom finished this way…

“Tonight was the first time I’ve seen that look of hurt in her face. And the first time I’ve ever hurt like maybe my skin wasn’t white. I saw through my brown daughter’s eyes and it was painful.”

The details aren’t necessary. But for the first time in my white life something broke. I caught a glimpse from another view. And I could barely handle it.

We are so naive. And blind. And full of entitlement. And absolutely clueless to it all.

“The reason why we haven’t solved the racial divide in America after hundreds of years is because people apart from God are trying to invent unity, while people who belong to God are not living out the unity that we already possess. The result of both of these situations has been, and will continue to be, disastrous for our nation. Let alone disastrous for the witness of Christ to our nation.” (Tony Evans)

Every life is important to Him.

God, help us to love like we’ve been loved. To accept like we’ve been accepted. To sacrifice like You have sacrificed for us.

 “For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility  by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace,  and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility.” (Ephesians 2:14-16)

img_3166

 

Advertisements

Dear friends…the humble post

Dear Friends,

I’m sitting in a chair across from our bed watching him sleep. He’s curled up tight. Breathing heavy. The thermometer just read nearly 103.

Earlier I checked the funds. $1200 short for our trip.

Jeremy, Stephen, Caleb, and I leave next Wednesday for the Dominican Republic. We’ll partner with local missionaries, minister in a school, and get to meet our 2 Compassion boys.

I’ve worried all along about leaving the younger 3 at home.  And now Jonathan’s fever makes me want to back out completely.

But we feel led to go. The 4 of us. Thankfully Jeremy’s funds were already taken care of. The boys worked hard to raise theirs. They made crafts and sent out letters.  And because of so many of you, they are both completely funded! Thank you!

Then there’s me. The one hesitant to go. The one who could cry just writing this. The one who feels like a loser for maybe, just maybe, asking you to support our family in this.

But nonetheless we feel called. To board that plane next Wednesday. To travel to the DR. And I’m trusting God will provide in the way He always does.

All of that to say if you are kind and generous and gracious and loving and would like to help us with the leftover $1200, we would be so, so thankful! You can mail it (tax deductible) to:
Daystar Baptist
P.O. Box 1193
Barboursville, WV, 25504
You can put The Summit Church in the memo line but please include something that has my name on it along with your address.

I don’t write on here for money. Y’all know that. But this time feels different. We are at the go or turn back point, and we believe He’s said go.

Please pray for us. For the 3 littles back home. For the softening of our older 2 boys’ hearts. We long for nothing more than to see God wreck them, wreck us for His kingdom.

So, so thankful for each of you for so many reasons!

Much Love,
Tiffany

PS-I hope to blog while we’re gone so be on the lookout!

“And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19)

We had the best models showcasing the boys’ artwork during our fundraising!

My Prayer for Summer Camp

It was just me and him on our way to the church for summer camp drop-off. I can hardly believe he’s old enough. Hardly believe he’s got one more year after this then it’s middle school camp.

He had given me a little attitude that morning. I held my tongue as best I could. The thought of sending him off after an argument seemed dreadful.

As we rode we prayed together. For safety. For the other kids. For God to speak.

And I silently continued praying in my heart…”God, please speak to him. Please don’t let the week be about do this and don’t do that. Let it be about grace. Let it be about God’s love. Let Your salvation be what forms every thing that enters his tender heart.”

Yes, I want people to challenge him to get in the Word. Yes, I want him to learn how to pray. But he’s a first-born. He’s a rule follower. And without grace, we are all so quick to fall into routine. We are quick to take on the description of a Pharisee.

I’m learning with each child-shaped arrow that enters our home that only God can do the saving. Only He can do the changing. And He does it with love. Maybe love in the form of correction. But love. Holy love. Godly love.

And so, so much grace.

“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him.” (1 John 3:1)

photo (25)

We are all loving watching the house being built!

Car Wrecks & Prayer…Remembering

The stroller wheels rattled on the concrete as I pushed Esther to the end of the driveway and back again. Our early morning exercise before breakfast.

My mind wandered to the article someone had linked on my Facebook-“North Carolina church leader’s toddler killed in wreck.” It had similarities with an article written about us back in 2007-“Church keeping watch over family.”

I hurt deeply for them. I don’t understand. We are fools to ever say we understand someone’s pain. Is it possible to ever really empathize?

But I hurt.

Esther and I walk, and I point out the birds to her. And she points her little finger at the cows in the pasture to the left.

I think back to our days of uncertainty nearly 8 years ago. I curse the post traumatic stress that still haunts me at unexpected times. And I ask myself, “What was the one thing I wanted everyone to do when life spiraled out of control, and the pain was too real for words?

Simple…Pray.

The cards were nice. The meals were great. The visits were special. But ultimately, when life hangs in the balance and there’s nothing you can do, prayer become the lifeline it should always be.

So I prayed as Esther and I walked. And I thought of Stephen, now a 9 year old, playing video games inside the house.

Somehow God is always good. I write the words as a way of forcing myself to believe them.

And I pray some more. For this young family. For the days ahead.

And I’m so, so thankful we have a Daddy with arms big enough to hold us and a heart of love that sees our tears.

Praying…

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”(Romans 8:38-39)

bilde

One Day They May Marry…

Stephen walks down the aisle. Cowboy boots. Suspenders. A pink bow tie. The ring bearer in a beautiful wedding in a lit up country barn.

And I long. Long for a night like this for him one day. Long for him to grow into a man who loves God. A man who loves a bride and lives life serving God with her.

I don’t wish these little days away. Later the mother/son dance nearly unraveled me. We’ve got years to grow and love and pray.

Every Wednesday we pray for our kids’ spouses. We pray for their purity. We pray for their hearts and minds. And on a night like tonight I ache for it for them. And I kneel by their beds and beg God to protect them. To lead them. The boys to a wife. Esther to a husband.

And I pray for us. That Jeremy and I would model for them what it could be like. That our marriage will be something worth imitating. That our sacrificial love will point them to the sacrificial love of the cross.

I beg for grace. For them. For us. And I fall asleep…believing He wants more for them than my feeble words could ever ask.

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us,” (Ephesians 3:20)

photo (14)