Oh Boy. Am I Ever Jumping. [Five Minute Friday]

WELL!

This has never happened.  I'm up at midnight and Five Minute Friday over at Lisa Jo's place is up and running.

I was on my way to bed... but... what's 5 less minutes of sleep, right?

Here I go.  

The word?  JUMP.

Oh. boy. 

Am I ever jumping.  How insanely appropriate, this word.

Out of all the false humility and fear of man that have held me back.  Out of the fear... well, just fear in general.  Taking some huge leaps forward these days.

I wrote an eBook.  Never, EVER thought I'd do that.  For some reason, the thought of writing one of those was always even more intimidating than writing a regular ol' read-it-on-paper book.  Guess that would be due mostly to my technologically-challenged-ness.

Anyway.  Said eBook will be releasing THIS Saturday night.  And I've overcome my animosity toward technology in this process enough to say this: I AM SO EXCITED TO SHARE THIS.

The title?  Stillness Manifesto:  A Call to NON-Action (Complete with NON-Instructions.)  

Yup.  Jumping.  Still a little afraid.

But going for it.  Pursuing what I feel is a huge piece of my calling.  Trusting the Lord with the details.

Off a stinkin' cliff.

Thankful He's waiting at the bottom!

STOP. :)

No editing, no over-thinking.  Just write your guts.  

Check it out - happens weekly over here at Lisa-Jo's.

The Courage of Not Burying Hope in a Dresser Drawer

**Quick addendum: I seem to be having problems with the comment link today from the "home" page of the blog.  If you click where it says "no comments" above (under the title), you'll see the comments.  :)  (If you got here by way of link directly to this post -as opposed to the home page-  you should see comments at the bottom.)  Working on figuring this out.  Thanks for grace today friends!**

So there's this shirt that lives in the top drawer of my 2-and-a-half-year-old's dresser.

It stayed at the bottom of the drawer for the longest time, buried under 20-or-so others.

Never worn.

Well, never by my son anyway.  It was my nephew's, and my sis-in-law graciously passed it on to us along with a box of other hand-me-downs.  I'm always thrilled to get clothes from them, and this t-shirt was no exception.

"He'll wear it soon," I thought.  I was so excited for when he would.

I stuck it underneath all his other shirts though.  It wasn't time yet.

In March, I found out I was pregnant.  Saw that +  sign just days before I was scheduled to go visit my parents in North Carolina.

Pulled out that long-awaited t-shirt and stuck it in the suitcase as I packed.

I planned to have Isaac wear it the day after we arrived.  To wait for my parents to notice and react.  I was beside myself with excitement.

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I started bleeding the night before we were supposed to leave for NC.

My pregnancy announcement looked very different than I'd planned.  More like, "Mom and Dad, I'm pregnant but I think I'm miscarrying."

I lost my baby while at my parents' house.  

Isaac never wore the shirt.

It stayed in our suitcase.

Fast forward a week.  I arrived home from NC.  Unpacked the suitcase.  The shirt went back in Isaac's dresser with all the others.  

And as I unpacked, I sensed this loving challenge from the Father: "Dana, don't bury it.  Don't bury your hope."

Ouch. 

I wanted to put it in the bottom of the drawer.  I didn't want to notice it every day when I picked out clothes for my boy.

Didn't want the constant reminder of this massive longing, still unfulfilled.

But I obeyed the nudge.  The shirt stayed near the top of the stacks.

In the last couple of weeks, 2 birth moms have chosen other families.  Our adoption wait continues.  

Again, the desire to bury the shirt underneath all the others.  Out of sight, out of mind.

And again, the choice to keep it near the top.


This Path Is SO Not Safe

Sunday at church, our pastor mentioned Hannah, from the Old Testament.  How she waited and prayed and cried out to God continually for a son.  

For years.

How she so acutely felt the longing for a child, that Eli, the temple priest, thought she was drunk as she poured out her heart to the Lord.

How she chose to hold her desires before God with an open heart.  Chose not to allow bitterness to creep in.

Hannah had some serious courage.

It takes courage to allow an unmet longing to lie open before the Lord (Psalm 38:9).

It takes courage to allow yourself to continue to feel the weight of your desires.  To ache.  To long.  To weep.  To wait.

To hold out hope for what seems like an eternity.

Heart and hands shaking, I walked to the front of our sanctuary Sunday morning and shared what I feel is an invitation from the Lord to us who wait, to us whose God-given dreams have yet to become reality:

There is a unique intimacy with Jesus to be found here.

Allowing the depths of our longings to lie open before Him is a profound expression of trust in our God.  

Trust that He is holding our hearts, collecting our tears, gently sustaining us as we wait.  Trust that He will catch and hold and tenderly mend all our broken pieces.  That He will really, deeply be Enough for our hearts.

Shutting down our longings is much less risky.  Numbness and bitterness can feel like a safe zone.  Feeling our longings is scary.

We're terrified the pain might be more than we can bear up under.

Yet choosing the "safe" path means missing out on deepened trust.  Missing out on knowing Him in the depth of intimate friendship that He so wants to extend to us in the place of our aching.

When we choose the safe path, a piece of our heart dies.  Numbing ourselves to pain means numbing ourselves to joy, to love, to trust.

To Him.

But the pain and risk of allowing our longings to lie open, raw before Him, become the open door that allows His comfort to come in and tenderly embrace our hearts.



The Sweetest Thing in the World

Why does God invite us to hold out hope for dreams that He might never choose to fulfill?

I'd like to believe that when a dream aligns with God's heart, He always promises to bring it to fruition if we wait long enough.

But that's not true.

He doesn't always fulfill our dreams, or meet our expectations.

Yet He asks us to hope.

And He works all things, all things, together for our good (Romans 8:28).

In the waiting, the longing, He is after our good.  In inviting us to hope for dreams that may never come to fruition, He is after our good.

"How can this be? All things for my good?  ALL THINGS?  REALLY Lord!?"

It's the cry of my heart sometimes, in the moments when I wonder if part of me will be crushed by the pain of  unfulfilled hope.  Of continual disappointment. 

But intimately knowing His nearness in our heart's most tender places?  It really IS our ultimate good. 

And not in an "I know this must be what's best for me so I'm just going to suck it up and choose to believe that it's God's will for me somehow" kind of way, either.

Friend, His comfort in the ache of those raw, unmet longings becomes the sweetest thing in the world.  

Literally.  Tangibly.

It really does.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted (Matthew 5:4).

Blessed.  

Truly.  Sweetly.  Deeper than words.  I am.

So the shirt will stay near the top of my son's dresser drawer.

And hope will stay at the forefront of my heart.

By His sustaining grace, I will refuse to let it be buried.

To quote Brennan Manning in his book Ruthless Trust: "To live without risk is to risk not living."

I want a fully alive heart.  And I want to know the depths of His heart.

So I'll say no to the safe path.

How about you?

~~~~~

If you're finding encouragement here and you don't want to miss out on future posts, could I invite you to hop up to the top of the right sidebar and enter your email address in that box?  Only takes a sec, and you'll be subscribed to receive every post via email.  I usually post 3 times per week.

~~~A Brief Note~~~

One of my favorite (if not my absolute favorite) EVER authors passed away last week.  Brennan Manning wrote Abba's Child and Ruthless Trust - 2 books that have wrecked me over the years, in a very good way.  Abba's Child in particular radically changed my life back in 2005.  I've read it multiple times since.

A friend of my husband's and mine wrote a great blog post highlighting and honoring Brennan's life/writings.  Very worth your read.  I'm personally planning to read more of Brennan's writings in the near future.

Anyway, here's that blog post by our friend Josh.  Have a look.

I'll leave you with one more Brennan Manning quote, this one from Abba's Child:

"Define yourself radically as one beloved by God.  This is the true self.  Every other identity is illusion.  God's love for you and His choice of you constitute your worth.  Accept that, and let it become the most important thing in your life."

This is my blessing for you all today.  May you define yourself radically as one beloved by your Father.

Because oh, how you are.

My Greatest Fear. For Real. [And Why I'm Refusing To Let It Paralyze Me]

Welp, I've decided.

I'm gonna let you in on my greatest fear.

Ready?

Eesh, this feels a more than a little vulnerable.

Okay.

<Deep breath>

My biggest fear is my own hidden heart-motives.  

Whew.

Inhale.  Exhale.

Okay.  Continuing:

When I get quiet, when I still myself before the Lord, and all of the peripheral noise and brain-clutter fade away, this is what rises to the surface, what comes up out of the depths of my heart.

I'm terrified of what's inside of me.  The pride I'm aware of.  The pride I'm NOT aware of.  The need for people's approval.  The fear of people's opinions.

I struggle so much with the fear that the things I do will be motivated by my broken places instead of being motivated out of security in the complete, total acceptance and freedom in Christ that are mine because of the blood of Jesus.  

Greater Than My Heart

Truth is, I vacillate between the two oh, so frequently.  I swing back and forth between fear and faith.  Craving approval, and being settled in knowing His approval.  And I waver between one hundred per cent confidence that I'm moving out of pure motives, and this terror that somewhere deep inside, I'm not.

Actually, let me just put it out there right now:  My motives AREN'T pure.  Not completely.  I am so. incredibly. human.

Prideful.  Fearful.  Frail.  Sinful.

BUT, even though all those things are true about my heart, even deeper and more real is the blood of Jesus, His righteousness purchased for me.  His purity that covers over all of my pride, fear, frailty, and sin.

My confidence must not be established upon my own ability to keep my heart and motives pure.  To try to do so on my own is self-righteousness.

I must lean into Jesus as my righteousness. Not on my own heart-purity.  

After all, the heart is deceitful above all things, and who can know it?

There is no. way. that I can search out every dark corner, every hidden motive, every broken place in my own heart.  It's not humanly possible.  When I try, I spiral.  

I am capable of cycling in introspection until it utterly poisons my heart, and a heart could die cycling like that.

Can I get an "amen?!"

Introspection without God's perspective is exhausting, draining, and not what we're called to do.

And praise GOD we're not.

This was why the Psalmist prayed "Search me O God, and know my heart."   And this was why John reassured the New Testament church that when our hearts condemn us, "God is greater than our hearts."

We cannot. CANNOT. search and know our own hearts outside of Him.

I sat with the Lord the other day and those same old heart-motive fears?  They started creeping up again.  Seems like no matter how many times I think I have their coffin door nailed shut, they keep mysteriously resurrecting.

Sigh.  

The fears want to paralyze me.  To squelch my forward momentum.  To keep me from becoming all I'm called to be.  From doing what I'm called to do.

But thank God, His greater-than-my-heart-ness won out quickly this time.

I found myself wrapped tightly in His knowing of my heart.  Inside and out.  Every room, every part of me.

Safe.

All my hidden, impure motives?  He sees every one.  Knows them intimately.  

And He's there.  Right. there.  He dwells and works in those deep, hidden places.  Refining, purifying, molding, shaping.  It's tender, gentle.  All of it.  And so. perfectly. trustworthy.

He knows you intimately too, friend.  Every secret intention.  Every hidden corner of your heart.  He sees you through-and-through.

And guess what?  He likes you.  Knows every part of you, and still tenderly pursues you.  Is still committed to His process inside you.  Still desires intimate friendship with you.  Still wants to move through you to reveal His heart to the world around you.

Impure motives and all.  Still-in-process-ness and all.

So who am I, anyway, to say, "God, You can't use me yet. I'm not ready"?  

And who are you?  

We are on a growth journey, each one of us.  And we will continue to be.  He will continue to refine, to correct, to bring to our attention the impure places in our hearts, in His timing.  And if our hearts are after Him, we will be tender and responsive to His precise conviction, to His tender purifying processes.

And the places in our hearts that are yet hidden?  Guess what: It's not our job to worry about them.

I don't know about you, but that knowledge makes me breathe a sigh of relief.  Like, almost daily.

It's HIS job, and He does this whole purifying-revealing-convicting-cleansing-me-on-the-inside thing so much better than I ever could on my own.

So.   I think I'll take some confident steps forward now.  

Steps into letting Him be fully Himself inside of me.  Into letting Him speak and move and extend His heart to others through me, despite whatever is going on in my depths that I'm not fully aware of.  

Because He sees it all.

Because He intimately knows my heart, and He is greater than my heart.  Because He has made me righteous, and I'm His work-in-progress.

He's more than got me covered.

So I can be confident.  Refuse to let fear paralyze me.  And move forward.  Become all I was made to be.

How 'bout you, friend?

Ready?  

Go.

For When Your Hope Feels Bent and Bruised

         

A bruised reed He will not break, and a faintly burning wick He will not quench.  He will faithfully bring forth justice.

-Isaiah 42:3- 

When the storms have bent and bruised your hope... 

Where your heart has bowed low, given in to the pounding weight of the deluge...

Friend, may you find courage to turn toward Him again as a flower to the sun.

May you know Him intimately as the lifter of your head, your heart, your hope.

May you have grace to trust, to let Him in, as He comes to tenderly straighten out your bent places.

May you experience Him as the faithful Bringer of Justice to your heart.

the Repairer of Hope.

the Rebuilder of Dreams.

the Restorer of Joy.

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Asking Jesus to breathe new hope and courage into each of your hearts this weekend.

Be so blessed, friends, and so alive.

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Thanks for journeying here a bit today.  You are so very appreciated.

Why God Speaks So Quietly

Isaac ate all his lunch yesterday.

It was a very big deal.

In our household, with our generally-picky eater, this is cause for great celebration.

Indeed, there was much rejoicing.

Isaac: "Isaac ate all his turkey!  All his banana!  All his granola bar!  All his lunch!  Ate dessert!  Isaac ate all his lunch!!!!"  (To be read aloud in slurred two-year-old-still-chewing-last-bite-of-dessert language.)

Mommy: "Good job buddy!!  You ate it all!!!!"

I walked over to him, wiped off his hands and face, congratulating him all the while on his triumph.

And then, as I lifted him out of his high chair, I paused.  Held his face right in front of mine.

"Isaac, buddy, look at Mommy's eyes.  Hey, look at my eyes, bud."

It took him a minute, me holding him still (well, sort of).  Finally calmed down and turned his gaze to meet mine.

Smiling into his big brown eyes, I whispered:  "I am so proud of you.  Good job eating, Isaac."

His eyes lit up and I knew - in the midst of all the noisy, wild rejoicing - what really penetrated, deep into his heart... was my whispered "well done."

Whispers Pierce Deepest

My own heart paused in that moment as the Father caught my attention.  It's His whispered words that penetrate my heart the most deeply, too.  More deeply than loud celebrations or enthusiastic proclamations.  

Whispers pierce our hearts the most deeply.

Why?  God's whispers require me to slow. down.  To wrangle my distracted, busy mind, to choose to still my heart and meet the gaze of my Maker.

It was Isaac's stillness, his eyes slowing down enough to meet my gaze, that allowed the weight of my "well done" to sink deep into his heart and light up his eyes.

And it's when we are still inside that the whispers of our Father have the power to deeply, tenderly take hold of our hearts.  It's the whispers that undo us, that overwhelm our hearts with His delight.

Today friends, may we be still. May we meet His gaze.  May His whispered delight pierce our hearts, deep.

And may we respond.  May we surrender to His love.

~~~A quick note from Dana~~~

Dear Friends,

During our recent giveaway, I asked the question, "What would you like to hear/see more of at Moments and Invitations?  Are there specific topics you'd like me to address?"

Here was a piece of an answer I received from my friend Lisa:

"Would love to see you address some practical ways to seek Him and use the moments well in the middle of crazy days with kids always needing something. Practical ideas on how to stop in the middle of it all and see Him. You've done this some and I suspect there is more coming."

Lisa, thank you so much for responding to my question!!  Today's post is definitely an example of a moment that I found myself pausing to experience the nearness of God, His pursuit of my heart, in the midst of the day-to-day busyness of motherhood.  Though my actual physical stillness in this moment probably amounted to 2.3 seconds, I was pondering and responding internally to His whisper to my heart as I went about my tasks for probably the next 30 minutes or more.

Just thought I'd throw out a practical, "here's what this looked like for me..." or what it looked like on this particular day, anyway.

Blessings to you all, friends.  May His nearness be tangible to you as you go about the tasks to which He's called you today.

~~~

As always, your comments are invited and your answers to the question I mentioned above are much appreciated!

If you've found encouragement here, could I invite you to subscribe to receive each post via email (just enter your email address at the top of the right sidebar)?

In addition, I will soon begin sending out, via email only, a monthly(ish) e-newsletter in which I will share a little more intimately than I can on a public blog like this one. This newsletter will go out to a smaller group of readers who've expressed a desire to stay connected at a bit of a deeper level.  It will include book-process updates, along with other glimpses into my life... and I will frequently invite feedback from that smaller group of readers on various topics (though providing said feedback is, of course, optional :) ). If you're interested in being a part of that group, please click here and input your email address.  It only takes a sec!

To those of you who've already done so, thank you!  I'm excited for this journey together.