He Never Slumbers Nor Sleeps.

I'm tired, and a nap sounds wonderful.

Justin and the boys went to town to run some errands and to get out of the house for a while.

Paxton threw up almost all night.

It seems she has a little stomach bug.

Anyone that knows Justin knows that he is terrified of germs on a level that is both frustrating and comical- so he took the first chance he got to leave the germy house.

Pax is alseep.  It is quiet.  It would make total sense for me to nap.

But instead, all I can do is sit here and watch her sleep.

Sit here and hold her.

Sit here and admire how beautiful that she is.

Sit here and wonder how I played any part in making something so wonderfully beautiful.

Sit here and pray she feels well soon.

And it's amazing that the way that I feel about my girl- well, my God feels the same way about me.

He never sleeps.

He never takes His eyes off of me.

His Word tells me that.
He sits.  And He holds me.

He admires my beauty because I was made in His image to be exactly who I am.

I can promise to always love this little girl with the best part of me.

But I know that no one loves her like He does.  And no one loves me like He does

And no one loves us like He does.

So, I'm going to leave it to Him.

I'm going to trust Him to keep taking care of us...

the big things and the little things.

The nights that sleeping is hard because of babies with stomach bugs-

and the nights that sleeping is hard because of anxiety over big things in life and bad, bad dreams.

He's got this.

So I'm going to leave it in His hands, and maybe take a little nap.

"I lift up my eyes to the mountains-

where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of Heaven and Earth.

He will not let your foot slip-

He who watches over you will not slumber;

Indeed, He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord watches over you-

the Lord is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day,

nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all harm-

He will watch over your life;

The Lord will watch over your coming and going

both now and forevermore."

Psalm 121

 

He is Risen, Indeed

Christ is Risen, He is Risen, Indeed.

Happy Easter.

Somewhere Between Friday and Sunday: A Good Friday Post

Lately, I’ve been living somewhere in the dark between Friday and Sunday.  It's possible that I've been living here for years.

Let me try to explain.  Friday.  Friday is the day that Jesus willingly took MY place on the cross of Calvary, and bore MY sin and shame, because even though I’m not worthy, He didn’t want Heaven without me.  He loved me enough to die for me so that I can spend eternity with Him.  But thankfully, the story didn’t end on Friday.  Thankfully, Jesus promised that Sunday would come.  And three days later, Sunday did come, and Jesus victoriously arose from the grave, conquering sin and Satan proving to me and to you that all of His promises can be trusted.  If He says it, He will do it.  Sunday is proof of that.

Let me try to explain it a little more.  Friday.  Friday is the day that the bad thing happens.  The thing that turns your world completely upside down.  The thing that makes you question whether life will ever be okay again.  Friday is the day that hope packs up its bags and takes a hike.  The day that everything gets dark and you wonder if you’ll ever see light again.  The world keeps turning.  You look around and everyone around you is living life normally and you’re. just. stuck.  You can’t move.  You can’t breathe.  You can’t think.  Because Friday is real and Friday has happened.  Friday sucker punched you in the gut.  Friday stole your joy.  Friday.  

But Sunday always comes.  And Sunday is that day that I’m waiting for.  The day of healing and victory.  I can see it on the horizon and I know it’s on the way, but because healing hasn’t quite arrived yet, I’m living here somewhere between Friday and Sunday.

Today I’ve had another story of healing on my mind.  Another story about the dead being brought back to life… The story of Lazarus.  And I think about Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus.  You see, Lazarus was sick and it wasn’t looking good.  So Mary and Martha sent for Jesus.  Jesus was a dear friend of theirs and they knew that if anyone could help their brother, it was Jesus.  Jesus’ disciples told Him that they should go quickly because Lazarus was sick, but Jesus told His disciples, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.”

I’m sure that Jesus’ disciples sighed with relief after hearing His words.  Lazarus wasn’t going to die!  Jesus said so!  But I wonder if they started to get nervous as Jesus took His time about leaving to head to Bethany to be by Lazarus’ side.  He waited two more days before He even left.  Jesus then told His disciples that their friend Lazarus was asleep and that He was going to wake him up.  They didn’t quite understand what He meant by this though- so He explained to them that Lazarus had died.

I can’t imagine how confused they must have been.  Jesus had told them that Lazarus’ sickness would not end in death, but now He’s telling them that Lazarus had, in fact, died.  

By the time that Jesus and His disciples arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had already been dead and buried for four whole days!  Martha met them as they were coming into town and told Jesus, “My brother is dead! And if You would have been here, he would not have died!”  Jesus tells Martha that her brother would live again.  He explained that whoever believes in Him will live and will never die.  

As they come into the city, Lazarus’ other sister, Mary, meets them.  When Jesus sees Mary and the other friends that were gathered with her weeping, He weeps with them.  We are told this in the shortest verse in the entire Bible-  “Jesus wept.”  

I’ve camped out here today a little bit, thinking about Jesus weeping.  Thinking about how deeply Jesus felt for His friends.  Jesus knew that He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead, so He certainly wasn’t weeping for Lazarus, was He?  I believe that He was crying because He felt so intensely the feelings and grief that Mary and Martha were feeling.  And I’ve been thinking about my own feelings and grief- and wondering if Jesus so intensely feels these feelings with me.  And I think that He does.  I think He feels with me and weeps with me while I’m lingering here between Friday and Sunday.

But back to Lazarus’ story.  Jesus wept with his sisters.  He asked where Lazarus had been buried and then asked for the stone to be removed from the tomb.  Mary told Jesus that it would surely smell horrible because her brother had been buried for four days!  But Jesus told her that if she would only believe, then she was about to see the glory of God.  So they moved the stone.  Jesus looked to Heaven and said, “Father I thank You that You always hear Me.  I know that You always hear Me, but I pray that the people standing here today will believe that You sent Me (paraphrased by me, of course.)”

Then the Bible tells us that Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”  

And out walks a dead man, yall.  

Lazarus got his Sunday.

So here I sit, somewhere between Friday and Sunday, and I’m thinking about Jesus and I’m thinking about Lazarus and I’m thinking about healing.  I think about how Mary and Martha sent for Jesus when Lazarus became ill.  And how Jesus didn’t come right away.  And I think about all the times I’ve cried out for Jesus and I’ve begged, “I need You to fix this!  Please, fix this NOW.  Please make this better.”  And I’ve waited.  And it’s felt like Jesus has took His sweet time showing up, just like I’m sure Mary and Martha felt like Jesus took His time getting to Bethany.

But the amazing thing is, Jesus’ timing is not my timing.  And He always shows up right when He needs to show up.  And I praise Him for that.  If He would have showed up and “fixed” everything the minute I cried out to Him in desperation, I would have missed out on seeing His glory, time and time again.  Over and over again.  Always His glory.  

He could have healed Lazarus.  He could have kept death away.

 

He could fix everything going on in my world with one word.  Some days I feel like I’ve been in a tomb for about four days now.  And He could fix that.  

But He’s trying to show me His glory.  I know that and I trust that.

Because Sunday is coming, I can face tomorrow.

So here I am- Sitting somewhere between Friday and Sunday.  But I do know one thing.  I know that Sunday is coming.  I know that Sunday is closer today than it was yesterday.  I can see it in the distance and it keeps getting closer.  I know Sunday is coming and I’ll never be so glad to see it when it gets here. 

But until then, I’ll trust Him in the in between.  And I’ll even thank Him for Friday because without Friday, I would miss His glory.  And I never want to miss His glory.

Without Friday there would be no Sunday.  So I’ll praise Him right here in the in between….

I don’t really like magic shows.

I don’t really like magic shows.

I don’t guess it is that I don’t like them as much as it is that they just “bother” me.

2017 hasn’t been around that long yet, but it’s been around long enough to pretty much kick my butt.  January was a bit trying.  Between Jaxon’s tonsillectomy and the complications after his surgery that led to pneumonia and then my sudden unexplained sickness that involved high fevers, crazy headaches, passing out and a trip to the emergency room that led to a spinal tap, it was all I could do to keep my head above water.  There was a meme going around social media that stated “I’ve decided that my 2017 is going to start February 1^st… January was a free trial month.”  Although that was silly, and made me laugh- I agreed with the writer of that meme with my whole heart.  I needed a do over, and the year had just begun.

So then came February, my “new year.”  Physically my family has felt better (thank You, Jesus), but I feel like we have been in a constant battle in every other area of our life- emotionally, mentally, spiritually.  I’ve said it before and I’ll claim it until the day that I die- spiritual warfare is a very real thing.  The road that we’ve walked the past couple of weeks has been a struggle.  It seems every time we turn around, there is a new heartbreaking, overwhelming situation on our plate.  I’d give anything to openly be able to share these struggles with transparency, but unfortunately I can’t do that.  But the heart break and the heart ache are very real.

Pain is so real- in all of our lives.  Yes, I’m using this blog post as a little bit of an outlet to vent, but I’m well aware that I am not the only one hurting.  I don’t know how many people will actually read this, but I know that everyone that does is dealing with their own heartaches.  Because this world is hard, and the things that we deal with are real and they are heavy.  So very heavy.  

The pain is so real.

But back to the magic show.  I’m talking about those magicians that frequent elementary school assemblies.  My youngest son just finished his first year of playing basketball.  He played at a local church in a “Straight Up Basketball League” that is a lot like Upward.  Tonight was the awards ceremony.  For entertainment, the church brought in a magician with a Christian message.  It was very funny and entertaining.  The kids and their parents laughed throughout the whole show.  I laughed several times, but just like every magic show I’ve ever watched, I mainly just sat there “bothered.”

Let me try to explain the best that I can.  I can’t just accept not knowing how the magician does the tricks.  I can see things clearly with my eyes, but can very rarely come up with an explanation for what I just witnessed.  And that bothers me.  The magician does a trick, then moves on to the next trick, and I’m sitting there trying to figure out how he did it.  It makes my brain hurt a little bit.

And tonight as I was watching these “tricks,” I was thinking about life lately, and tears welled up in my eyes.  And then I smiled.  

God is so much bigger than some “magician” in the sky.  He doesn’t have tricks, but He does have a plan.  And if I were to be completely honest with myself, like the magic show, maybe that bothers me sometimes.  I’m thankful that God has a plan, but maybe it bothers me a little sometimes that I have no explanation for the things that I see happening before my eyes.  Often I think that it would be a whole lot easier to trust God if I knew why He did the things that He does, or why He allows the things that He allows.  I’m just being real.  

The truth is, trust isn’t something that comes easily to me, and it seems that the older I get, the less easily I trust.  But I don’t want to be that way with God.  I want to trust Him.  I want to mean it when I say, “God, I can’t see what You’re doing right now, but I know that You have a plan.  God, I don’t understand how or why, but I know that You love me and I know that You want what is best for me.  And I know that what is best for me is for me to be made more and more like Your Son, and God, if these struggles are what are going to make me more like Him, then I’m willing to trust that You know what You’re doing.  My holiness is more important than my happiness.  My calling is more important than my comfort.  Your Word tells me that all things will work together for my good and for Your glory, so I’m choosing to trust You.”

I don’t know much, but I know that I’ll never look at a magic trick or sit through a magic show the same.  I’m thankful that even on really hard days, God never fails to make me aware of His presence in my life.  He uses the most ordinary things sometimes to say to me, “Hey Kendra, do you see Me? I’m still right here.  I haven’t gone anywhere.  I just need you to trust me, okay?  You may not be able to see the plan, but can you just trust Me anyway?”

Yes Lord, I will trust You. 
It may not happen as easily as “abracadabra,” but yes Lord, I will trust You.

Lessons from the sectional.

We have a sectional.  When we were looking to buy our house, the sectional is the first thing that I noticed when we walked in the front door.  When we decided that we were interested in making this house our home, one of the first questions that we asked the owner was how much they would take for the sectional.  It just fit right in that space.  It was like they built the entire house around that sectional.  

And it’s comfortable.  It’s one of those couches that is hard to get up off of whenever you sit down on it.  That can be a good thing or a bad thing.  The boys sleep on the couch a lot on Friday and Saturday nights.  We have enjoyed many family movie nights or ball games sitting on this couch, all 5 of us together, enjoying bowls of popcorn.

And this week, this couch has been my bed.  Jaxon, my eight year old, had a tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy on Tuesday.  Bless his heart, he’s had a rough time.  He had four different pretty scary vomiting spells after the surgery on Tuesday, and it was close to bedtime before we were able to get him back home.  We thought the recliner would be the best place for him to try to sleep so that we could better keep his head propped up.  So naturally, Tuesday night, the couch was to be my bed.  Paxton and Knox, our 2 and 5 year old, went to bed with their daddy in our king sized bed.  Paxton sleeps with us every night, and Knox and Jaxon normally sleep in their room on bunk beds, but we had decided that since Jaxon was sleeping in the living room for a few nights, we would let Knox sleep with his daddy.  Paxton made it in our bed without me for a couple of hours before she woke up terrified and joined me on the couch.

Wednesday night Jaxon slept in the recliner again, and I settled in on the couch.  Paxton laid down with me, and Knox went to bed with Justin, but before everyone actually went to sleep, Knox came and laid with me and Paxton joined Justin in the bed.

Thursday was a rough day.  Really rough.  Jaxon ran fever all day, and we ended up in the emergency room with him.  As if recovery from a major surgery isn’t hard enough, after a chest xray and some blood work, Jaxon was also diagnosed with pneumonia. Thursday night, with Paxton sleeping beside me on the couch, I pretty much just laid and listened to Jaxon breathe all night.  I prayed that God would relieve his pain and help him to rest.

Things started looking up on Friday.  Jaxon seemed to be feeling better.  He was drinking more and trying to eat some.  He smiled a few times and laughed and would give me thumbs up when I would ask if he was okay.  He got a shower, and tried to brush his teeth, and I just felt more confident going to bed than I had since surgery.  

I laid on the couch and we watched a basketball game together.  I was holding Paxton during the game (that didn’t get over with until after midnight). Paxton kept dozing off, then she would wake up and look at me to make sure I was still there.  A few times she just closed her eyes and went back to sleep.  But one time she said, “momma, you stay awake so I won’t be scared?”

I told her not to be afraid, that I wasn’t going anywhere, and she fell back to sleep as I continued to hold her close and rub her back.

Knox, who had earlier went to bed with Justin, joined me on the couch during the 4^th quarter because Justin had fallen asleep and he was, in his own words, “scared to watch the game alone because his team was about to lose.”  He came and snuggled up close, and we finished the game (that his team did, in fact, lose).  When the game was over, I told him that he could go back and sleep in there with daddy, and he told me that he just wanted to sleep with me.  I told him that he needed to move to the other side of the sectional because I couldn’t sleep with him on top of me.

I then suggested that I go to my bed to sleep and that Knox could have my spot on the couch.  Jaxon’s ears perked up and he, without hestitation, said “No!” You can’t leave me in here.  I’m scared to sleep without you.”  So I laid right back down.  Within a couple of minutes Jaxon fell asleep, so I thought I would try to sneak into my bed.  As soon as I stood up, his eyes popped open and he said, “please stay in here with me.”  So I laid down and wasn’t going anywhere.

Knox, who at this time was trying to get comfortable on the other side of the sectional, was having a hard time making his nest.  He said, “I want to lay with you, Mom.”  I tried to explain to him how tired I was and that I couldn’t sleep with him on me.  He then threw his pillow and blanket on the floor and made a pallet right beside me so that he could hold my hand while he fell asleep.

It was nearing 1 a.m. by this point, and hot tears were streaming down my face as held Knox’s hand, watched Paxton sleep, and just listened to Jaxon breathe.  There are days that I feel overtouched, over talked to, and over anxious.  But in that moment, I knew I was right where I was supposed to be.  I was right with the three people that truly do need ME more than they do anything in their life at this moment.

And I thought about God.  I thought about Paxton asking me to stay awake so that she wouldn’t be scared.  And I cried as I thanked God for never sleeping.  On nights that I’m fearful and anxious and have a million things on my heart and mind, I can rest knowing that God won’t go to sleep.  He will stay awake and hold me and do whatever it takes for me to find rest.  When I wake up abruptly because of bad dreams, He is right there beside me, not sleeping. 

I thought about Jaxon just needing me close.  And I cried as I thought about how thankful I am that God is always close.  He NEVER leaves me.  Never ever.  He doesn’t even try to sneak off to get some rest when He knows that I’m asleep.  He just stays.  And just like my presence was enough to comfort Jaxon and make him feel safe enough to rest, His constant presence in my life is enough for me.

And I thought about Knox, about him not being able to get close enough to me, and about him moving so that he could just lay and hold my hand.  And I cried as I thanked God for always, always holding my hand.  For always wanting me close, and always being there when I just need to be close, hold His hand, and rest in Him.

There’s nothing in my life that has ever taught me more about God’s love than the love that I have for my three children.  And I’m thankful that He never stops trying to teach me more about how much He really does love me.  He really does love me.  I’m thankful for that, and I’m thankful for the lesson on the sectional last night.  It’s a night that I think I’ll always remember.