Kara Tippetts: A Treasure Of Hope For My Bruised Heart

January 21, 2015January 21, 20151 Comment

I didn’t want to read her book.

I have a hard time reading her words and even viewing her beautiful face and smile in the pictures spread across the pages of her story, my heart can’t help but see my own mother. Kara’s story takes me back to being a teenager and all the memories of watching my own mother die to cancer.

Her words make me weep. Big ugly chest heaving tears.

I was afraid to go there. I was afraid to cry.

I’ve always believed these weeping tears were a sign of my weakness. For as long as I can remember I have tried to muster up the strength to dry my tears, pull up my boot straps and carry on. I’m the firstborn and in my unbelief and independence I, as the firstborn did not give myself permission to shed many tears when my mother died.

My heart has been bruised from hiding my tears; like all those saved up tears have gathered up and damaged my heart somehow; maybe even calloused my heart too. But Kara, her story, her bravery and her relentless hope; I have found a treasure in her words through rolling tears and my swollen face.

Kara writes about tears in one of her latest blog posts:

Tears ~ the essence of the best life

Kara writes,

“So weep, count your tears, look at your swollen face and know it is the fruit of love. It hurts like hell, but that pain from love- well it may be beauty at it’s purest.”

These words have turned my former thoughts about tears upside down and inside out.

Tears are not weakness at all.

Her words bring healing to my soul. The tears are the fruit of love for my mother. It hurts like hell but the crying is the fruit of the love for my mother. I could cry everyday and know that shedding a tear is not weak, the tears are beautiful and proof of a never ending love for my mother. I am able to meet her in my tears.

Kara’s words move me to see Jesus holding the broken.

“In your shattered state, do you see how Jesus sees every broken shard?” -Kara Tippetts

I was afraid to let myself cry over her book. I was afraid to be weak and be broken over her story. If I would have lived in fear of the tears I would have missed an amazing treasure. A treasure of grace and healing for my bruised heart of pent up tears.

Pick up her book now. Today. Let the tears come. You will find a treasure for your heart too.

Buy The Hardest Peace: Expecting Grace In The Midst Of Life’s Hard

Follow more of Kara’s story here:

http://www.mundanefaithfulness.com

The Thing About A Three Year Old

December 20, 2014December 20, 2014Leave a comment

Sometimes it is easier to see what is bad about the phase of a child. It is easier to scream and complain about the awful and the challenging. Some people write it down and when it is attached with cynicism others seem to applaud. Others gravitate toward the negative that is masked with cynicism. The challenging things go viral while the redeeming qualities of a phase stay in the background.

No one applauds the praiseworthy traits because everyone huddles around the ugly ones.

I know children go through challenging phases. I have four young children and I have experienced most of the awful and all of the challenging. I could tell you all the stories. The poop stories, the tantrum stories, the flat out ridiculous embarrassing moments at Target and the times my children ran into a parking lot without the helping hand of a responsible adult.

I think the praiseworthy moments deserve an applause. There is a world out there reminding us of the awful and through the noise, sometimes it is hard to stay joyful in the dog-days of parenting young children.

The thing about a three year old is there is a loyal, independent, teachable child behind those stubborn eyes.

I do not think there is a day that goes by that my three year old does not stomp his foot down and tell me, “I want to do it by myself!” BUT there also is not a day when he does not take me by my hand and say, “Mommy, you are my best friend.”

There is not a day when he does not begin to cry if his blanket is just right, BUT there also is not a day when he doesn’t want to smooth my hair out of my face and tell me I am beautiful.

The thing about a three year old is they are your best friend beneath all the challenging yuck.

They are loyal to you, you are still their best friend because peers are still of little importance.

Three year olds can dress themselves.

Three year olds can use the toilet.

Three year olds can put on there own shoes.

Three year olds can play in the snow for longer than it took you to dress them in their snow gear.

Three year olds get birthdays. They get Christmas.

Three year olds truly love their siblings: they look up to the big ones and care for the little ones.

Three year olds can set the table and match socks.

There are so many praiseworthy things about a three year old. Don’t hear the bad and embrace cynicism. Embrace the praiseworthy. I promise when you search for the praiseworthy you will find the joy in the dog days.

There are so many lovely things about a three year old. Find them. Write them down. Hang them on the fridge.

The world wants you to see a three year old through the eyes of cynicism but God wants you to see them differently. As His children, the thing about a three year old is they significant and important to Him, no matter the challenging and the yuck.

Strive to see the praiseworthy. “Whatever is praiseworthy about a three year old, think on these things.” Philippians 4:8

If you like this you will also like:

Why The Twos Aren’t Terrible

They Can Hear You

Finding Shelley At Christmastime

December 17, 2014September 21, 20162 Comments

For years I have struggled to find her. For seventeen Christmases I have looked for her but I have been so overcome with grief that my eyes couldn’t see what was right in front of me.

Christmas is a hard time of year for anyone who has lost a family member.

As a fourteen year old girl I lost my mother and it has taken me almost two decades to recover.

For as long as I could remember I was waiting for others to bring her back. I put the expectations on others to do Christmas like she did and each year Christmas passed and my expectations were not met. I felt disappointment and loss in the belly of my soul and this made the cycle of grief start all over again.

Finally, this Christmas I have found hope. I have found the hope in honoring her, after sixteen other Christmases have passed. Sheesh, it feels like it took a lifetime. But today it was worth the wait.

Today, I found my mom in the simple words of a recipe for Christmas cookies. Just one taste of the uncooked batter brought me back to childhood in her kitchen years ago. I baked Christmas cookies with my kids today and I told stories about my mom at Christmas.

I found her in the handwriting of her recipe book. The large loops in her cursive and the perfection and consistency of each stroke.

While I iced the Christmas Tree shapes and added the red hots I told my sons this was something I looked forward to every Christmas as a child. I told them I would even sneak bites of the refrigerated batter and how my mom would catch me anyway.

There have been plenty of opportunities for me to choose bitterness and loss and grief at Christmastime. There are plenty of opportunities for me to stick in the cycle of grief and let the bitterness take root and grow.

If she was here it would be different. It would be better. I do miss her. My kids and my husband have never experienced her laughter. My kids have not been able to experience the blessing of involved maternal grandparents.

I could choose to celebrate Christmastime with emptiness each year.

But instead, I choose HOPE in the midst of loss and unmet expectations.

Hope falters the growth of bitterness. Choosing hope at Christmas is a choice.

I choose to find my mom in the traditions and the stories. This has not happened overnight. It has taken sixteen years of sadness and choosing grief and the plauging seed of bitterness over the fruitful seed of hope.

Hope is what would be honoring to my mom at Christmas anyway. She wouldn’t want it any other way. If she was here she would tell me to dry my tears and teach my children to find her at Christmas. Grandma Shelley is not here physically but she lives her in our traditions.

Finding Shelley in the traditions is a choice.

Finding hope in loss is a choice.

Finding Shelley at Christmas has taken me almost two decades but I am thankful I found her today. In the cookies. The simple cookies with the red hots.

And I hope to pass her on to my children. I hope to give them hope. And stories. I hope to teach them that God’s story is full of people who lost but these same people had their eyes fixed on something Greater.

The Greatest Blessing Of Marriage

December 4, 2014January 2, 2016Leave a comment

A few weeks ago I was given the courage to write about the hard places of marriage, and the surprises of those first few days and weeks and months of being newly wedded as husband and wife.

The surprises were just a few things I wasn’t prepared for and kind of blind to in the early days of being a wife. And now I also know I was blind to the greatest blessing of marriage. It has taken almost a decade for me to recognize this great blessing as we grow and gray together, raising children up and living this life that God has given us to glorify Him.

Creating a new family heritage is the greatest blessing of marriage.

Yes. My husband is my best friend. Yes. He is my true love. Yes. We have four beautiful and unique children together. These are all wonderful blessings. But for me, the greatest blessing is creating a new heritage with my best friend as we walk in parenting and life together; side by side as we strive towards honoring the Lord.

A heritage is what a family gives and passes on from generation to generation. When two become one flesh in marriage, God says, ” a man shall leave his father and mother and cleave to his wife.”

Back in the times of the Bible it was common for women to leave their families. It was radical for a man to leave his family and go be with his wife. Really. Radical. The whole inspired truth from Genesis when we first see the picture of marriage is radical: that man AND wife would leave their family and their traditions and their heritages and cleave to one another.

Cleave. To cleave to your spouse means to become strongly and emotionally attached to them. To leave your old familial heritage and cleave to, or become strongly established, in making a new heritage with your wife.

The greatest blessing of marriage is found in the first few pages of scripture.

Leaving all the old heritages and creating new ones.

You get to do that in marriage. God says it.

This means new traditions for you, your husband and your children based on your uniqueness in Christ and the words from scripture.

This means you and your husband can decide how you want to honor the Lord when you are building your own heritage at Christmas.

This means when it is time to decide what to do about Santa, or advent, or stockings, or presents. God says, you shall leave your past and cling to a new present with your husband.

You get to decide together. You get to choose what you pass on to your children.

This means, as long as you are honoring your parents, you get to decide where you children will wake up on Christmas morning.

This means, as a married couple you get to choose your heritage. You get to decide the traditions your children will look forward to each Christmas, birthday, Easter and Thanksgiving.

The heritage is yours to pass on.

My prayer is that as husbands and as wives we would with courage, be able to leave the old traditions and build new ones; honoring our past heritages and the Lord. I pray our children would grow up to be a great nation, seeing Jesus in their new heritage and as they marry, I pray they would pass on a greater heritage for our grandchildren, honoring the Lord.

Traditions are important. You and your husband get to build and refine your heritage. You get to choose.

This is the greatest blessing in marriage. Build a strong heritage for your children.

A new heritage. Just you together. Pass on the truth of Jesus, make His name great.

Because A Mother Is Beautiful All By Herself

November 18, 2014November 18, 20141 Comment

There was a time not too long ago when I didn’t want to have my picture taken. Sometimes I was the one taking the pictures but other times I just didn’t want to see myself photographed. I was unhappy with the way I looked and I did not want my children to remember the time when mommy’s hips were more rounded and her face was a little fuller.

Specifically I remember being at a baseball game and I was gathering my boys close for a picture of them with their rally caps on. A young guy in the row in front of us sweetly turned around and offered to take the photo for us. He immediately looked puzzled when I quickly declined and told him I wasn’t planning on seeing myself in pictures for at least ten more years.

That was really true and there it was: Out of my mouth my heart spoke the words: I am not beautiful enough to be remembered for who I am, right now, just this way.

I have heard this story before. My mom rarely wanted to be photographed while she was battling cancer while I was a child. I hear my grandmother tell me, she did not want you all to remember her that way. I love my mother and that was her wish but now here I am left without her and I barely have any pictures with her and me in them. I cannot think of more than five photos I have of her and me together from the age of five until she passed away when I was fourteen.

To me she was beautiful.

As a child, I didn’t see a bald woman or a woman with only one breast. I saw my mother. And a mother is beautiful all by herself.

To my children, a mother is beautiful all by herself.

There will be a time when I am no longer here on this earth and my sweet children will be longing for memories of me. My children will not be concerned about my chin, my dark circles, or my roots that should have been touched up last week. My children will just want to see me. And them. They will want to hold something more tangible than a memory that puts me with them in that place at that time.

Our children don’t care how we look for the camera, because to them, a mother is beautiful all by herself.

You can see I have some unraveling to do when it comes to this whole idea of being beautiful. Just the way I am. Right now. In this time. In this place.

I will tell you I know what the Bible says about being beautiful. I will even tell you I have those verses memorized. But even though I know what the Bible teaches on a cognitive level about beauty – it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that the attitude of my heart and my unwillingness to be photographed show a tangled up mess of belief and unbelief when it comes to my appearance. What I believe and what I actually do just don’t match up.

As God has been faithful to work on my unbelieving heart I can see the places where I have the “beliefs of the world” tangled up in what is true about beauty from the passages of Scripture.

I’ve realized that to the people who matter, a mother is beautiful all by herself.

God speaks to beauty in His words to us in the Bible and according to Him our beauty has nothing to do with the amounts of hairs on our head, the clothes that we wear or what the scale is saying about us on any given day.

“Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised.” Proverbs 31:30

“Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.” (1 Peter 3:3)

“But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look on appearance. For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)

“Behold, you are beautiful, my love; behold, you are beautiful.” Song of Solomon 1:15

God’s words in the Bible do not say the same things the world is screaming to us about beauty. It is challenging to unravel the untruth from the truth. Mostly because as a mom, I am constantly surrounded by a world telling me to be thinner, to wear the latest trendiest boots, to be a hot mommy, to make sure my thighs aren’t touching. I could go on for days. Days.

God is telling us from His word that beauty comes from the blatant opposite or what our world tells us is beautiful.

Beauty comes from giving up of yourself. And chasing after Good.

Beauty does from bravely enduring hardship. Like my mother. She is a heroine and I just won’t stop saying that.

Beauty is a mother. Giving up herself.

A mother is beautiful all by herself. A mother doesn’t need to hit that weight loss goal, make her hair the right color or wear the trendiest clothes. To God, your husband, you children, none of that matters. They want you in those photos. I know. And I am telling you.

“Behold, you are beautiful, my love; behold, you are beautiful.” Song of Solomon 1:15

Go and be photographed. Hang those photos on the wall and post them to Facebook. Because a mother is beautiful all by herself.