Set Your Heart on Doing This

I know nothing more effective for quieting a Christian soul and 

getting contentment than this, setting your heart to work in the duties of the 

immediate circumstances that you are now in, and taking heed of 

your thoughts about other conditions as a mere temptation.

~Jeremiah Burroughs

***all photos by my dear Emma

Mama, Have You Forgotten What Season It Is?

As I finish up planning for our new school year, I have to remind myself of this all over again. Maybe it will be an encouragement for you, too.

*****

I often think of myself as a Mommy-in-the-Middle. Yes, I'm in the middle of lots of stuff, like laughter and chaos, but I'm also the mother of children ranging in ages from 17-2, with a baby on the way. I'm a mother in the middle of several different parenting stages.

I can relate to the Mom who's navigating those unpredictable waters of adolescence, holding on tight during the turbulent days of puberty, watching with wonder the little ones' discoveries, battling self-control during toddler temper tantrums, or smiling as she hears her baby master an endless number of new words a day.

I know, simultaneously, what it is to wrestle with anxiety about your oldest ones' futures, wondering if you honored the LORD with the time you had, while fighting to be steady in training the younger ones to form good habits and obey consistently. I listen to Mumford and Sons and movie soundtracks while hearing Judy Rogers' songs and Patch the Pirate lyrics in my head.

I walk alongside the Mama who's watching her almost-grown children frame their own lives, as well as the Mama who's joyfully buying onesies for her new baby. I weep with the Mama who looks back on years of parenting and sees the grace God poured out on all of her days, while I share the secret worries of the newer Mama who wonders if there's enough grace for this day.

Sometimes the crossing over of these many phases of childhood stretches me thin, but most days its my own unrealistic expectations that weaken me.

While searching Pinterest I came across some wonderful activities for the Littles. I remembered how creative I used to be with the older ones and how detailed their early homeschooling lessons were. But that many years ago, I was the mother of two, not eight. I had less laundry, fewer dishes, less planning, fewer interruptions. It was a different stage of God's plan for my mothering. Yet, Guilt and Discontent started knocking and asking questions, and I found it hard to ignore them.

"Look what a better job you did with your older children. Why aren't you doing those same things now? Your younger ones are being deprived. Your older ones are being deprived. Maybe you've gotten lazy? What you're doing is not enough."

Ecclesiastes tells us there's a time for everything, but I often forget such wisdom includes what I do as a mother. There is a season, for all mothers, when the most reading you'll do will be from books by Mother Goose or Beatrix Potter. There is a season when you'll not tackle new projects but simply maintain order of what you have. There is a season when you'll splurge on a family vacation and a season when you'll squeak by just paying the bills. There's a season when you'll spend most of your time in correction and discipline, and a season in which you delight in the fruit of the Spirit manifested in your children.

And for some of us Mamas, our seasons overlap, and yet, they're still a season in itself.  No matter how much I long to be the same mother for my younger ones that my older ones had, I can't make that happen. It's impossible to create the same childhood for every child. I can't mother like my friends who only have little ones and spend hours on creative learning and crafts, and I can't mother like my friends who only have older children and read books at lightning speed or have more time for hobbies or volunteer work. I can only mother like a mother who has eight children of varying ages with the circumstances and resources God has set before me. Do I believe His provision is enough?

This is the kind of mothering all mothers should be doing, mothering that's mindful of the season God has gifted us. The temptation is to confuse the seasons. When our children are little, we're pursuing things that are best done when they're older. When they're older, we're holding on to what we didn't do when they were little. (Those of us who have younger and older have to fight even harder to balance it all well, and make sure we're not neglecting what is needful for the older ones AND the little ones.)

We exhaust ourselves with expectations that were meant for a season we're no longer in or for a season that hasn't yet arrived. We lose sight of God's providence because we're scrambling to duplicate, as a large family, what a small family has, or as a small family, what a large family does. We sacrifice eternal bounty for keeping up with Mama Jones, whether the keeping up is the number of books we daily read aloud or the material goods or educational opportunities we provide.

And yes, it comes down to contentment. Contentment grows as we embrace the God-ordained boundaries that are fixed to the seasons of our mothering. Contentment flourishes when we focus on His purposes for our days instead of trying to combine a life's worth of seasons into right here right now. Contentment keeps our eyes set on His faithfulness instead of our accomplishments.

Learn from other mothers in different seasons. Make notes of what you want to do when those seasons come. But rest firmly in the truth that God does give us seasons as mothers, and when we walk contentedly in His design for our days, we honor Him well in our mothering, leaving Guilt and Discontent with nothing to say.

(originally posted July 2012)

With love,

Trisha

Exhibit E

Ink's surgery went perfectly well yesterday! Thank you for your prayers!

Here's Exhibit E--for Ebenezer, of course.

 Some information about the Nuss procedure

This wasn't an easy decision to make when we were first confronted with it. There were those who thought we were crazy to take such risks, that we were gambling with Ink's life. 

BUT GOD...I say those words a lot. But God is greater than those risks, and He's greater than my fears and doubts and circumstances. He's sovereign over all of it, and our days are in His hands, not ours. But God tells me to walk by faith and not by sight.

Three years in Ink's body, this steel bar. It's amazing to ponder it all. Really think on it. Meditate upon. Reflect. Consider.

And there was not one complication. No punctured lungs or heart. No infections. 

Oh, how little we consider how God "keeps" us! He keeps us from so many things, and we often pass by them with little thought and scanty wonder. 

So, we beg for the grace to REMEMBER, for much of the sin that we battle is there because we FORGET--forget His salvation, His goodness, His sovereign power, His mercy...I fight this amnesia every day!

What a wonder it is that this bar is part of Ink's story. It's one he'll tell his children, and the story won't start with, "Guess how brave your Daddy was when..." It will begin with, "Let me tell you about our amazing God..."

Declaring God's goodness not only brings God glory. Declaring God's goodness is a way that we love one another. I'm all for privacy, but there are many things we're not to keep to ourselves, like the display of His mercy and goodness and power in our lives. Sometimes these are the means God uses to cast that glimmer of hope into someone else's darkness.

Let me remark that if we praise God ourselves by word and life, we ought to try to bring others to praise him, too. You do not praise God, indeed, unless you want others to do so. It is a mark of sincere thankfulness that it desires others to assist it in the expression of its joy.

~C. H. Spurgeon

Thank you for rejoicing with us!

With love,

Trisha

Facebook One Year Later~What I Love and What I Hate

A little over a year ago, my Mountain Man and I took the plunge and signed up for a Facebook account. Yes, this crusading anti-Facebook Mama had to choke on her words...and as a result of my time there, I wrote a few things about how to behave on Facebook.

Like many, I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. It's mostly what you make it, but it's also what other people make it, and sometimes the two get tangled, and things get messy, and I don't like that part.

What I Hate

I hate that most of it really isn't private. There's a nifty sidebar that tells you what every friend you have is doing--how many levels of Candy Crush they've conquered and what posts they liked and what they said. That's really none of my business, and it's frustrating to realize that complete strangers have the potential to see almost everything I post.

I hate that people get testy and let differences interfere with fellowship. As I've mentioned before, Facebook is a medium for expressing our opinions, and often our opinions offend others. With reasonable friends, I know I can discourse with them in a friendly, or even in a heated, way, and we'll still be friends. But, with others, that's not the case. It's easy to be censorious and to take the bait (I've done that!) when we just need to agree to disagree.

I hate that Facebook can be a means of discontentment. Perhaps part of it is knowing what so many people are doing instead of a small circle of friends. The temptation is to be dissatisfied with one's own lot, and when that happens, it's important to take responsibility for our own sin instead of blaming others for "making us" feel dissatisfied.

I hate when people say it's not real. Many have said that none of this social media is "real", which always leaves me wondering why any of us are doing it then in the first place. Of course, it is real. It is a limited reality, though, just as work relationships often are and, sadly, even some church-family connections. Those who interact with us only on Facebook will never get the big picture of our lives, but that doesn't make Facebook an artificial world that happens only in our imaginations.

I hate that it's a time-wasting temptation. It's easier to justify time spent there because Facebook can be quickly checked and statuses easily commented on. But minutes add up to hours and hours add up to days. And our lives are the measure of our days. Are we spending them well? For me, I have to consciously watch my time and guard against social media becoming an easy answer for not dealing with the undesirables of life.

What I Love

I love being able to access the help and knowledge of others. It's amazing what friends know and what friends can do. When Clairesy injured her head in a fall, and I posted a question about getting stitches, a nearby  friend quickly answered my question and was at our home in 10 minutes. Another friend shared a helpful tip about dealing with congestion in infants--something this long-time mother had never heard of, and yet another made a recommendation that helped me survive hard water for a time.

I love the encouragement and prayers and awesome shared quotations and book recommendations.

I love enjoying the big and small moments of delight and victory in others' lives.

I love the conversations that make me think.

I love the surprise connections that God has ordained there. You just never know how God can use even Facebook, and we now have connections with two very special families because of our time spent there.

I love that Facebook can be a mirror that reveals the darkness of our hearts.  Am I petty? Do I always have to have the last word? Do I care about others enough to encourage them and pray for them? Am I envious? Do I struggle to rejoice with others? Do I have self-control? Am I a coward, or am I bold about what I believe? Do I fear God or man? Am I a good steward of my time? Am I addicted to social media?

Will we continue with Facebook? For now, remembering that it's wise to regularly evaluate anything we do, making sure it accurately reflects our priorities and isn't a stumbling block to living a life for God's glory.


With love,
Trisha

Last Night's Moon

I have not yet been able to capture a clear picture of the moon, but last night, Luke got this one! Isn't is amazingly beautiful?

Content by George Herbert

Content

by George Herbert

Peace mutt'ring thoughts, and do not grudge to keep

Within the walls of your own breast:

Who cannot on his own bed sweetly sleep,

Can on another's hardly rest.

Gad not abroad at ev'ry quest and call

Of an untrained hope or passion.

To court each place or fortune that doth fall,

Is wantonness in contemplation.

Mark how the fire in flints doth quiet lie,

Content and warm t' it self alone:

But when it would appear to others' eye,

Without a knock it never shone.

Give me the pliant mind, whose gentle measure

Complies and suits with all estates;

Which can let loose to a crown, and yet with pleasure

Take up within a cloister's gates.

This soul doth span the world, and hang content

From either pole unto the center:

Where in each room of the well-furnisht tent

He lies warm, and without adventure.

The brags of life are but a nine days' wonder;

And after death the fumes that spring

From private bodies, make as big a thunder,

As those which rise from a huge King.

Only thy Chronicle is lost; and yet

Better by worms be all once spent,

Than to have hellish moths still gnaw and fret

Thy name in books, which may not rent:

When all thy deeds, whose brunt thou feel'st alone,

Are chaw'd by others' pens and tongue;

And as their wit is their digestion,

Thy nourisht fame is weak or strong.

Then cease discoursing soul, till thine own ground,

Do not thy self or friends importune.

He that by seeking hath himself once found,

Hath ever found a happy fortune.

***memory work for Term 1 of 2013-14 school year

Anatomy of a Large Family's Read Aloud Time

Pick a time.

Announce it to everyone.

Begin thirty minutes late because  you got distracted washing the dishes and putting another load of laundry in and dressing your daughter's baby in doll clothes.

Let everyone gather their coloring pages, pencils, or Legos to use while listening to the reading.

Begin.

Hear toddler cry for juice.  Ask her buddy to please get her some.

Begin again.

Read for about 15 minutes.  Then, have daughter tell you baby needs a diaper change.

Tell everyone you'll be right back. 

Change diaper.  Watch baby boy pee all over comforter unexpectedly (really, Mama-to-quite-a-few-boys, you should expect that...)  Strip bed and put comforter in the wash.

Tell everyone to settle down.

Begin again.

Admonish two children for fighting.  Tell them to stop provoking one another.  "Keep your hands to yourself."   "Do unto others as you'd want done to you."

Ask another child, "Are you listening?"

Try again.

Hear howling scream from one son.  "What happened?"  Mediate.  Discipline.  Sigh and wonder how long you've actually been READING.

Feel toddler girl lay her head on your lap.  Hug her back.

Look for your place again.

Start reading.

Realize 3 year old is missing.  "Where's _________?"  Send her buddy to look for her.

Start again.

Hear everyone laugh at the passage or make commentary on the author's worldview.  Follow rabbit trails.  Calm everyone down, and get back to the line you were on.

Notice toddler has a permanent marker.  "Where did she get that?"  "Get it from her quick!"

Hear phone ring.  It's Daddy.  He'll be home in about an hour and a half.  Think of dinner and how much time you need to get it done.  Remember the clothes wrinkling in the dryer. 

Find your spot, and try again.

Smile as you notice little daughter trying to help her sister with a toy.

Read for a bit more.

Exhort another child to use his words for building up, not tearing down.

Fight discouragement as you tell yourself, "Why bother?"

Remind yourself that great things are done little by little, even with an interruption here and an interruption there. 

Laugh at yourself.  Treasure the blessing of so many children around you who really are enjoying the book you're reading. 

Remember that an hour of uninterrupted read aloud time with total silence is very overrated.  Would I really want that? (Well....move to the next thought.)

Remember where you need to discipline more.  Remember how you need to lighten up.

Remember not to grow weary in doing good.  And this time together, interruptions, frustrations, and all, is very GOOD.

End with a big smile on your face.  Close the book, and try again tomorrow. 

Thank the LORD that you're such a rich woman.

The End. :)

***originally posted at my A Multitude of Mercies blog

Real Men of Steel

Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong.

~1 Corinthians 16:13

*****

Almost three years ago, Ink was under those bright operating-room lights and the influence of anesthesia and a scalpel-wielding surgeon. A steel bar was implanted in his chest, relieving the pressure that his rib cage was putting on his heart. It was an amazing procedure, so efficiently done, that unless you knew he had a bar in his chest, you'd never guess it to be true.

On a scale of 1-10, his pain was an 11, for quite some time. Immediately, his asthma symptoms ceased, though, and after a few months, he adjusted so well to the bar that it seemed to become part of him, instead of an intruding foreign object.

God has kept Ink in amazing ways these past years. Physically, there haven't been any complications. Not one. Isn't it incredible? Isn't it a wonder? To be walking around with a metal bar in your chest and to be kept from harm in ways you aren't even aware of?

Yes, God has been merciful, and the bar has done its job well.

Has Ink known...

Superhuman strength? No.

The ability to fly? No. (Except on an airplane after making it through the metal detector.)

Extrasensory and vision powers? No.

Man of steel jokes? Yes.

Football? Yes. 

Push-ups and pull-ups? Yes.

Even Rugby? Yes.

Sanctification? Yes.

In less than two weeks, our dear Ink will have surgery to remove that steel bar. We'll have to cut out the man of steel jokes, and Ink and push-ups will continue to be the best of friends, but Ink's lasting strengths, the strengths of godly men, aren't dependent on surgeons or medical advancements or workout programs.

They can't be bought, surgically implanted, or surgically removed.

They're the work of the Spirit.

1) Contented: What an example Ink has been to us in having a contented spirit in the midst of uncertain and painful circumstances. Not once has he said, "Why me?" or murmured against God (at least not out loud). It's a grace that has left me in wonder, especially as I battle discontentment in the midst of lost socks and dirty dishes. Strong men rest contentedly under His providential hand, especially when it leads them through the fire.

2) Grounded in the Word: Strong men stand on This--in a world that continues to say, and among professing Christians who continue to say, "Did God really say?"

3) World-changers: Superman might save distressed cats from burning buildings, but we watch Ink change the world one sentence at a time. And this is what strong men do--use their gifts for God's glory.

4) Grateful: Guys aren't making 1000-gifts lists on flowery papers. They tend to show their thankfulness in everyday, ordinary ways. Doing their duties, their manly duties. Saying "thank you" for dinner. Keeping their word to their hurt. Being good stewards of God's blessings. Worshipping. Leading. Sacrificing. Honoring.

5) Self-aware: Not the self-awareness that just makes one more self-ish, that makes life all about you, but rather the self-awareness that leads to repentance and dependence and makes everything all about Him. Strong men know they deserve the wrath of God but received His mercy and grace instead. They know they can't trust themselves, but must lean hard on their Savior, every moment of every day. To use my pastor's words, they know they're "black-hearted sinners."

Strong men--godly men-- are in our midst. Praise God for the real thing!

And did I ask the doctor for the steel bar? You know, for an Ebenezer?

Of course!

With love,
Trisha



***Ink's surgery is Monday, August 26th. Prayers, please, for steady surgeon's hands, no complications, and a quick recovery. Thank you very much!

Blessed is the Mama

Blessed is the Mama who remembers well that there are some things a baby must do for himself. 

And just to be clear, Sarge was crying FOR my spaghetti, not because of it. :)

Imagine a World in Which We All Do This

Think what a better world it would be if we all, the whole world, had cookies and milk  tea and scones about three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap.
~Barbara Jordan




**original quote is "cookies and milk" :)

Thankful Thursday~Patterns of Mercy and Trumpets of Praise

In just over a week's time, I attended a wedding and then a funeral. The contrast was sobering, and yet beautiful, too, for God was glorified in both the new lives joined together and in the honoring of a saint who had run her race well. And as I move through days that are rich in the wonder and laughter of children, my sister cares for her husband in the quietness and heaviness of a home that smells of death.

As I watch little bodies grow and get stronger, she watches her strong husband, her protector and provider, get weaker. As I contemplate not growing weary in faithfully training up our children for His glory, she begs for grace to get through a day without falling apart.

A haunting awareness of the difference in our days clings to me, and I often swallow hard and pray for supernatural strength for my sister. For me, I ask for the grace to live fully present in each moment He's set before me, to be grateful for "normal" and "ordinary."

And in the midst of all of this, God is great, and God is good. 

I'm thankful to the Lord for a pastor who faithfully reminds us of the Gospel every single week.

I'm thankful for the fine job Emma did in sewing her first drawstring bag. I'm thankful for little children who delight in play dough, who think it's one of God's greatest creations.  I'm thankful for the good works that God works in us, that He might be glorified.

I'm thankful for colorful flowers that brighten up desert landscapes, and for children who squeal with excitement when they get to water Vincas and Petunias. I'm thankful for a yard full of puddles and mud because that means God has given us RAIN! I'm thankful for breathtaking sunsets that leave me in awe of the Lord.

I'm thankful for big sisters who love babies and for babies who giggle at the silliest of things. I'm thankful for healthy children.

I'm thankful for conversations with my sister and for the ways this affliction has deepened her walk with the Lord.

I'm thankful for difficult relationships that push us to examine our hearts and remember all that Christ has done for us, to die to self and be clothed with compassion and humility. I'm thankful for friends who patiently love me when I'm hard to love.

I'm thankful for difficult people who push us to know what we believe and why and be bold enough to say so. I'm thankful that conflict teaches us how little we fear God and how much we fear man. I'm thankful God's grace is sufficient for it all.

"Fall upon your knees, break forth into a thankful triumph of praise; let your hearts be ten-stringed instruments, to sound forth the memorial of God's mercy. None so deep in debt to free grace as you, and none should be so high mounted upon the pinnacle of thanksgiving. Say as the sweet singer; 'I will extol thee, my God, O King; every day will I bless thee, and I will praise thy name for ever' (Psalm 145:1,2). Those who are patterns of mercy should be trumpets of praise."
~Thomas Watson, All Things for Good

With love,
Trisha

Token Apologies

How fiercely our flesh resists peacemaking and confession and reconciliation. Thus, one of the best things we can teach our children is the danger of "if, but, and maybe" when dealing with an offense. One day they will be mothers and wives and fathers and husbands who will either give half-hearted, blame-shifting apologies, or they will be humble confessors of sin who call their sin what it is. The best way to teach them not to offer "token" apologies is to not offer them ourselves.

When I get angry with a child, and I must repent, I can't say, "I'm sorry I got angry with you. If you hadn't broken that dish, I wouldn't have gotten so mad. But, anyway, would you forgive me?"

No. What needs to be said is this. "I'm sorry for getting angry with you. I should have been more patient and had more self-control. Would you please forgive me?"

In his book, The Peacemaker, Ken Sande explains well why conditional apologies do little to mend breaches:

The best way to ruin a confession is to use words that shift the blame to others or that appear to minimize or excuse your guilt. The most common way to do this is to say, "I'm sorry if I've done something to upset you." The word if ruins this confession , because it implies that you do not know whether or not you did wrong. The message you are communicating is this: "Obviously you're upset about something. I don't know that I have done anything wrong, but just to get you off my back I'll give you a token apology. By the way, since I don't know whether I have done anything wrong, I certainly don't know what I should do differently in the future. Therefore, don't expect me to change. It's only a matter of time before I do the same thing again."

Clearly, that is no confession at all. It is a superficial statement designed to get someone to stop bothering you or to transfer fault for breaking a relationship. Small wonder that genuine forgiveness rarely follows such words...

The word but is especially harmful, because it has the strange ability to cancel out all the words that precede it.

"I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, but you really upset me."
"I know I was wrong, but so were you!"

Whenever statements like these are made, most people sense that the speaker believes the words following but more than those that precede it. Thus, a confession containing but rarely leads to reconciliation. The same is true when you use however, if, maybe, or any other word indicating reluctance to accept full responsibility for what you have done.
~Ken Sande

With love,
Trisha

10 Ways to Comfort A Grieving Heart

I'm not an expert on grief. While I've known the heartache of four miscarriages, and I've had family members die, my life's canvas isn't dominated by dark strokes of loss. Of course, grief is not borne out of death alone. Divorce, loss of health, aging, severed relationships, empty nests, barren wombs, and many other circumstances evoke grief. This means it will be the rare time in our lives when someone we know isn't grieving.

As a child I was insulated from death and from grief. The first funeral I attended was just four years ago, when my father-in-law died. The second was just a little over two years ago for my Dad. I didn't have my first miscarriage until I knew the joy of four children.

I can only guess what a poor comforter I was prior to those times, for experience is often a master teacher. Our own trials let us taste the comfort of God, which then allows us to better comfort others. (1 Cor. 1:3) Here are just a few of my lessons learned:

1) Listen. This is essential. Let the grieving heart share its memories and regrets and questions. Let the grieving heart tell you how great God is even in the midst of unspeakable pain. Don't listen with an agenda of telling YOUR stories. Just listen to the stories being told. 

There will be time for you to relate later how you might know what the person is feeling--that's part of comforting others with the comfort we have known-- but initially, pure listening ears are a beautiful gift to a grieving heart.

2) Banish the "But" or "Be careful little tongue what you say." While standing in the receiving line after my Dad's memorial, a woman I've never met came up to me. "I'm so sorry about your Dad, BUT it's a blessing." I'll spare you the rest of her comment and say that her idea of it being a blessing had nothing to do with the fact that my Dad was released from his body of sin and present with the LORD.

"I'm sorry your baby died, BUT at least you have other children."
"I'm sorry you lost your job, but at least you have money in the bank."

When the grief is so fresh, "I'm sorry" works just fine.

3) Remember no act of kindness is too small. As I watched people come in and out of my Mom's home after my Dad died, I was struck by the fact that each person simply did what he could. Some acts of kindness were small, and some were big, but they all were a comfort. Don't convince yourself that your offering of compassion won't matter. It does, and it leaves a soothing impression on that grieving heart.

4) Remember time is standing still for the grieving heart.  Life moves on for everyone else, but the grieving heart often struggles to put one foot in front of the other and do the next thing. Ask if you can take care of phone calls or little tasks that can't wait on grief. And because time seems to stand still, remember that two years can seem like just yesterday to one who is mourning.

5) Pour out grace and patience. The grieving heart can be snippy or forgetful. It can be easily overwhelmed and tearful. It can find it hard to make decisions or commit long-term to something. Don't add to the pressure by burdening the grieving heart with YOUR expectations. 

6) Don't judge what the grieving heart does or does not do. How the grieving heart spends its time is not a proper gauge of grief. We all process the pain differently. Just because the mourner goes out to dinner, spends time on the computer, or has a "good" day, or buys a new dress, doesn't mean she's not struggling or hurting.

7) Pray, and remind the grieving heart of the tender, limitless compassion of Christ. Is there a better gift to give the grieving heart? How precious is the question, "How can I pray for you?"

8) Send a card, a real card. In an age of e-mails and texting, we've forgotten what it means to read real words across a page, words written by loving hands. This type of comfort is special joy. And cards are great months, and even years later, when others have forgotten, but the pain is still there.

9) Customize the comfort. All too often, we comfort only in a manner that appeals to us. But how is the grieving heart most comforted? With silence? With much talking? With a surprise? With planning visits ahead of time? With gifts or with words? With a meal in or a meal out? Ask "How can I best help you during this time?"

10) Sometimes a rebuke is necessary. I know. There will be those who chafe at this, but when grief consumes us, when our loss becomes the focus of our lives, then we are sinning. To stop living because we no longer have a family member in our world or because we can't have that one thing we've been praying for for years is to say that our treasure is not found in Christ, that He's insufficient, that our hope and purpose have been in something other than the God who's made us. Directing a grieving heart back to the truth of who they are in Christ is true comfort. Of course, these hard words require wisdom and prayer and come best from those closest to us, who have been beside us in our grief instead of  just showing up one day and telling us to "get over it." 

May God grant us tender hearts that honor God and love others as we weep with those who weep, pouring out real compassion that lasts longer than our initial whispers of condolence.

With love,

Trisha

**revised from a previous post written for my A Multitude of Mercies blog