I was seven days late.
It’s only happened twice in my life. The other time was three years ago. The week before our foster son came home.
I woke up every morning, believing the “in due time” had finally come. That after all of these years, it was our turn. I was certainly going to see my belly start swelling in the next few weeks. I had calculated the due date and thought through every way I would tell my husband, family, and dear friends. I had imagined the look on their faces, like the ones standing around Lazarus’s grave.
Even after all the hoping and all the disappointment, I knew this new season our family has stepped in, has looked so different from the old ones. He’s doing a new thing in us, something He’s never done before. And hope never puts us to shame (Romans 5:5), so I wasn’t afraid to hope. Because my hope isn’t in a miracle, it’s a person, my Jesus.
This was the third test I took that week. All the other ones said the same results. But I wasn’t going to believe it wasn’t true, until I knew. And I knew on day eight.
Right before we looked at the test, Brandon said to me, “You know this doesn’t change a word out of God’s mouth about this.” And I knew that. Still do.
This weekend, The Garden’s Leadership Team got away for our second annual retreat.
I’m still finding words for all Father did over the weekend. He told me specific things He was going to do in each heart and how He was going to move us as a team deeper into His. Just like always, He did exactly what I felt Him say He would do. I believe our team walked away marked by the love of God in a way we never have before.
The Garden is serving someone you know.
It’s the girl sitting on the same row with you each Sunday. She’s the girl in the next cubicle over. The cousin you love but only see a few times a year. The teacher who pours out her life into your child. The lady sitting on your board. The woman on the other end of the conference call. The girl on your worship team.
I bought these ornaments a few months ago, hoping that this was the year.
That I could wrap them up and give them to my husband and mom, and when they would unwrap them, they would be unwrapping a miracle. The one we’ve been praying now for eight years. I know healing is my inheritance because of Jesus. He paid such a high price for me to be healed. I know more than ever that truth, and that we will see that healing manifest.
I was just really wanting it to be this year.
It’s been quiet around here lately.
I’m so sorry about that.
Do you ever feel like you can’t balance your life? Or is it just me? Surely it’s not just me. It’s like I’m an awesome mom and tanking the ministry thing, or I’m writing and not speaking, or visa versa. Either my legs are shaved or my hair clean. And don’t get me started about house. If the dishes are done, the laundry probably isn’t. Know what I mean?
I’ve chosen in this season to use the word “full” instead of “busy.” I feel like being busy is just running around without intention and lacking purpose. Full describes our season much better. Everything that our family is doing is intentional and filled with purpose. It just means we have to give our very best yes. And a lot of “no’s” along the way too.
Every morning when I wake up, I ask the Father, “What do you want me to put my hands to today?” Sometimes I work on The Garden all day. Somedays I only work on stamping jewelry. Somedays I just need to play in the floor with my kids or go on a date with my life crush. It’s been something I’m definitely growing in, yet learning what it looks like to live in this full season of life out of a posture of rest.