The Lonely Hearts Club

Most days, I fancy myself superwoman. I do it all. I do it well. And I do it (mostly) alone. I am intensely devoted to my kids, my career, and just about anything else that strikes a fire in my heart.  Most days, I fancy myself superwoman... but not today.

Today, my heart echoes in it's emptiness. I yearn for something more. In true fashion,  instead of discovering what "more" means in this chapter of life, my ever-familiar flight response is revving within. I want nothing more than to jump in the car, turn the music up, hit the open road and drive until my soul finds Peace.  And I would... If I didn't know, with absolute certainty, that this same dull ache in my chest would be waiting right here for me when I return. 

Loneliness is new territory for me. I am usually quite content to be alone. I keep less than a few close friends. I enjoy being single. My anti-social awkwardness has frequently stopped me, but never bothered me. I enjoy my own company and have rarely desired much more.

But lately... lately, between the busyness of life and the exhaustion that follows, each and every one of my relationships have suffered. Some of them are okay but lacking, some sorely damaged, while others have plummeted into a dark abyss of my own creation. I spend a lot of time being too tired to worry about it, and the rest of my time regretting that I let it go this far.

I've also been letting a life-sucking fear drive me around for months now. I am suffocating somewhere between a fear of failure and a fear of happiness.  I dont want to fail my kids again, lose the life I've built, feel the things I used to feel, or ever let my life look like it once did.  But I feel like I'm a hamster on a wheel, running fast and hard just to... maintain. Never moving forward, just waiting in anxious anticipation for the other shoe to drop.

The "more" that I am yearning for is decidedly this: more friends, more time, more deeply fulfilling relationships. For the first time, I think I am desiring new friendships in addition to repairing and enhancing the old ones. I miss my family and want to restore those bonds. I want more enjoyment in my life. More love. More God. I want things to be both the way they used to be and yet better than ever.

So, as much as I desire fulfilling relationships, I think it's important to spend some time regaining my identity outside of "mommy" and "nurse."  Taking a little less care of others and a lot better care of myself. I have to get me all straightened out, but most importantly, I've got to get right with God. And after that? After that, I'm going to start repairing the rut in my relationships.  I will start seeking new friendships with people who share my interests and who are as giving as I am. I will stop investing in those relationships where there is an imbalance of give and take.  I will build my new life to be exactly as I always imagined it to be, and I will conquer these draining fears. I will step back into the call for freedom and dance in it. I have come too far and worked too hard to be this dissatisfied with myself and my life. Something has to give.

All I can say is... somewhere along the way I lost my tenacity, my zest, my me-ness. And let me tell you, there is nothing more disappointing than realizing you've lost your you-ness. I just want to catch my breath. I want to feel like me again. I want to re-become the person who relinquishes control and trusts the Lord. The person who seeks the Lord first and most,  rather than forcing herself to be in relationship Him.

Most days I fancy myself superwoman... but not anymore. I only want to be exactly who He created me to be.  I'm done spinning my wheels.  Today is the day I stop running and start living...

An Attitude of Gratitude

Lately, I'm finding that my heart has been emptied of it's love and joy. Instead, it has been full to the brim with anger, resentment, and an aloofness that goes against my very nature. Yes, every ounce of peace has been drained dry; every smidgeon of hope squeezed out to a slow, thick drip. I'm an analytical person, logical to the core. I like to understand things, for everything to make sense somehow.  So, I continue to look inward, searching for the event, conversation, or precise moment where this shift occurred; but no matter the effort or desire, I just can't seem to find it. It just is. This change in demeanor doesn't make sense to me. More than that, I continue trying to bottle it up and shove it away in hopes that it will just... disappear.

I was taught, time and time again, what to do in times like this. You know - Surrender it to God. Pray. Repent. Pray again. Make sure I've really surrendered it. Pray some more.
...You get the picture.
The problem is, I feel so guarded. So shut off and disconnected, disinterested.. that I have no idea how to get to that praying place. The enemy begins to whisper lies in my ear and it just overtakes me.  I'm consumed by complaints, negativity, and frustration. Final Destination: ingratitude.

Ingratitude is not a place we, as followers of Christ, should live in. In fact, the less we remain in the grateful place, the easier it is to backslide into this negative, worldly consumption.  Life is messy. WE are messy.  Every day we are faced with situations and circumstances that create stress, which distract us from the many things we have to be thankful for. We get so caught up in our responsibilities and anxieties that thanking God falls off our radar completely.  We often overlook how important it is to make a conscious connection, moment to moment, with the Holy Spirit. We forget to give thanks for what He is doing in & through us each day, be it trial or triumph.

So how do I begin wading through the muck to get back to the grateful place? Sheer force! Force yourself to say that prayer, read that verse, go to church.  Whether you feel it or not, whether you have the words or not... There is power in the attempt. Make a list if you have to, of all the blessings and grace He has gifted to you. Whatever it takes to start chipping away at the Great Wall of Ingratitude, so that eventually, you may be reminded just how green the grass is on His side. (Then, jump that wall and don't look back! :D )

Gratitude is so crucial to our faith walks. When you give God the glory for all He has done in your life, blessings will continue to pour out for you. Additionally, giving thanks to the Lord is like hitting the refresh button for your faith. You are immediately reminded of where you've been, what He's given you, and the possibility of what's to come. This further cements and reinforces your relationship with Christ and strengthens your trust in His presence, His faithfulness, and His unfailing mercy.

Even in the hardest times of our lives, we have SO much to be thankful for. Consider what a life with Christ means. Consider what was sacrificed for each and every one of us, and the gift of salvation. Is it enough for you? Are you thankful?  Let that put things in perspective when you find yourself feeling ungrateful. Consciously shifting your focus is the quickest way to adjust to an attitude of gratitude.  Lastly, remember that there is relief, unmatched, in the love of the Lord ...and no matter how long you shy away, He will always be waiting with open arms. Always.

The Search For Rest

I don't know about all of you, but I'm tired. Exhausted, really. I am a single mother raising two boys, the sole provider for my household, and an overly-attached nurse working 50 hrs a week. Somebody's daughter, sister, friend. For all intents and purposes, my life is pretty good compared to what it used to be. I should be smiling. I should be happy. I should be so much more than this... but all I really am, is tired.

So tired, in fact, that even the things that were once enjoyable for me, now feel like work. My hobbies, my down time, ...my faith. Yes, in a world that is whirling around me in fast-forward, whirring in it's white noise, I am finding it harder and harder to stay connected and committed to my relationship with God. There, I said it: I am far busier than He ever intended me to be. And for what??  Without Him in His closeness, I feel purposeless, disconnected, & discombobulated. When did I allow myself to become this busy?

The Bible speaks very highly of rest. We can trace it all the way back to creation. In Genesis 2, after creating ALL the universe, the Lord saw that His work was good and rested on the seventh day. I don't imagine that this was because our Almighty, all-powerful God was all tuckered out. I like to think He was giving us a gentle nudge toward a standard of living. We all have work that is required of us, but when the work is done, we should spend some time resting.

Rest does not come easily for us, especially in a world so obsessed with distraction. We've got to have more, do more, be more. And what should happen if we slow down? Will the world, as we know it, forget to turn? Will all things come to a screeching halt because we choose to indulge in a little R&R today? NO. This is why rest feels like a foreign concept to us. It goes against our grain. To rest means to slow down, in all capacities, and trust that God will take care of things for you.

The next verse that comes to mind, and probably the most obvious, is found in Matthew 11:28-30.  "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light."  
My initial reaction is, "I'm sorry,  WHAT? Where is this elusive rest, this 'light burden'? And how do I get me some of that??"

...Aaand then I float back down to earth and remember... it's really not that complicated, resting in the Lord. The Lord did not create us to be anxious, busy, worried. We were created to be free, restored, and renewed.  So how do we find the Lord's rest?

It begins with that trust I was talking about earlier. Do you believe, with all your heart, that God has got this? Do you trust that He will gladly bear the weight for you? Do you have faith that He will awaken you when the time is right?  Then, "do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." (Phil 4:6) Pray! Thank Him for His goodness. Thank Him for the trials. Thank Him for the blessings that come with a busy life - it could definitely be worse! Then, ask Him for those things you need, ask for rest. Listen closely for His voice. The rest will follow (no pun intended). This kind of rest eliminates all worry and fear. There is no anxiety in this rest. There is no striving forward, nor looking back. You simply rest in the presence of our Lord, knowing full well He has you covered. Close your eyes, breathe it in, and be thankful that we serve a God who loves us this much.

The Fight for Control and the Art of Surrender

“Hi, my name is Jessica, and I’m a control-freak.” she says, nervously wiping the sweat from her brow.  

Yep.  That’s me.  I am a die-hard, gotta-have-it, addict for control.  I like it, I like it ahh-lawt.  I’ve always justified this particular character flaw because I don’t necessarily find myself with a desire to control other people.  I mostly just prefer to be in complete control of myself and my surroundings at all times!        (Some reasoning, eh?  As if this somehow makes me less ridiculous. ;)

So as I said before... Hi, my name is Jessica, and I'm a control freak. 
(Say it loud, say it proud?)

Control likes to sneakily disguise itself as feeling capable and responsible, when it actually involves trying to cause or force things to happen.  It is about directing behaviors and trying to acquire power over people and circumstances.  We try, with all our might, to finagle the outcomes we think we need.  We put forth exhausting efforts to fit a square peg into a round hole so that we can feel accomplished, safe, and secure in the end-results.  And even though I AM GUILTY AS CHARGED, I must say... THIS IS STUPID!  Mostly because I'm learning that control is an illusion!  One that is nearly ALWAYS rooted in fear or anxiety.  Absolutely, undoubtedly, no way around it!  No amount of perfectionism on my part can alter this cold, hard truth.  I don't want to fail.  I don't want to be wrong.  I want it done right.  I need answers.  I don't want to be embarrassed or taken by surprise.  I don't trust the ground beneath my feet.  ...So I attempt to control myself, my environment, and my kids.  And it just isn't working. 
Why not?

Because we are not in control.  We weren't made to be, we aren't meant to be, we never will be.  God is in control.  He doesn't need our help or our input. He's got it together and He sees the bigger picture, even when we can't.  Struggling with control issues has provided a very special hindrance in my walk with the Lord.  Why?  Because releasing my perceived control requires a ton of trust.  In theory, it's so easy to believe this whole "God is in control" thing.  Hey, I’ll even spout it off to somebody who wants or needs to hear it.  And I'll believe it... for them.  But my need for control mostly comes from a lack of believing, deep down in my core, that God truly has this covered.  He knows me, has me, keeps me, LOVES me, and He works ALL things together for my good.  I feel like I should start saying that as a morning mantra.  Over and over and over, until I know and feel the abounding love and power of those truths.

It’s a tricky thing, control.  It mirrors pride and fear in many regards, but especially in the way it seeps into so many parts of who we are.  It tugs at the root of all our major issues.  I've spent a lifetime thinking I was self-sufficient.  I was completely unaware that Jesus would totally take that load off my shoulders.  So now I have to learn what it means to give God the control I never really had.  I have to release it from my death grip!  I now know, with certainty, that Jesus calls us to be free from our baggage and burdens.  He brings all the good stuff and the bad stuff together and creates something beautiful out of our everyday messes; all in one ever-evolving, awe-inspiring, astonishingly intricate grand design.  He desires to deliver us from our ailments and I desire to be free.  

So to combat our control issues, we must learn the art of surrender.  If we used the same energy to surrender ourselves to the will of our Father that we use trying to plan, prevent, and predict everything we would accomplish SO much more!  Stop fighting against yourself, your world, and your relationships.  Instead of trying to use force to manage everything, try letting it be.  Let it be.  When you recognize you are being dominated by the spirit of control, make a deliberate effort to let it go.  Be conscious of it and make a shift from control into surrender.  

Sometimes, it's helpful to pinpoint what exactly is driving the need for control in that moment.  Is it based in fear or something else?  Is it true?  I like to visualize myself taking

my burden-of-the-moment in my hands, and laying it down at the Lord's feet, in prayer.  I give it over to Him and ask Him to take it away.  It's particularly fun when it vanishes in a cloud of smoke.  Find a tactic that works for you and make it your go-to.  Let the peace of surrender wash over you.  Allow the Lord fill you with his ever-loving presence and free you from your demons.  Bathe in the feeling of freedom after each success with surrender, and ride the residual above and beyond the next wave.  Consciously surrender yourself to God's will in all areas of your life and allow Him to give you rest.  It's the best rest you'll ever get! ;)


"You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free." Gal 5:13

The Widow's Offering

Being that it is *that* time of year and the holiday hustle and bustle has begun, I often find myself reminiscing on the memories and traditions of my childhood.  I was surprised by a story from my past that bubbled it's way to the surface recently, no thanks to those pesky bell-ringers hanging around outside all of my favorite shops. 

The year that I was 8 years old (Hello, 1995!), my parents gave me the opportunity to earn money for Christmas shopping by doing chores and tasks around the house.  I worked my 8-yr old fingers to the bone for what begs to be remembered as months, though I'm fairly certain it was only a matter of weeks. ;)  When all was said and done, I prepared to go shopping with my Mom, a whopping $25 and a detailed list in tow.  (Whether that list was mental or actual, I don't recall.)  I can still feel the excitement in my little girl-heart at the thought of using my very own money to buy special presents for those I loved.  The only gift I vividly recall wanting to purchase, as it was the 90's, was a Skip It for my best friend, Amanda!  I was CRAZY for my Skip It and desperately desired for her to have one so that we could "skip it" together. lol  (Love that picture -totally symbolic of my childhood; cracking up!)

I can still see it now.  We come to the first stop, and I eagerly hop out of the good ole' Chevy Silhouette aka "Ruby," all bundled up in my winter jacket.  Holding my Momma's hand, we are nearing the door to the store when I notice a familiar jingling of bells.  "Why are they ringing those bells, Momma?" She answers me by saying something like "They ring those bells so people will put money in those little buckets, and that money goes to help families who don't have things for Christmas."  I stopped and let that thought sink in a bit.  Then, with only brief hesitation, I walked  forward and put my $25 in that little red bucket.  

I think my Mom was slightly shocked, yet full of pride.  I'm sure she probably asked me if I was sure that's what I wanted to do with my money, and I'm sure I said yes, though this part of my memory is a little foggy.  However what I do remember is that we didn't make it two steps inside the door before I was crying my little eyes out. Lol.  My Mom asked me "What's wrong, sweetie?" and through my sobbing, I managed to utter "I can't buy Christmas presents now." In the end, of course, my Mom allowed me to do my shopping and said she would pay for it for me.  I was even able to get a Skip It for Amanda.  Best favor ever. lol

On the voyage home that day, my Mom shared a story with me that she said was from the Bible.  She told me about a group of people who were giving their offerings at church.  She said there were many rich people putting lots of money into the collection box.  And then there was a poor widow, whom I'm pretty sure she termed an "old lady," (lol) who gave her last two pennies.  And how that meant so much more to Jesus than all the money the rich were giving, because she had given everything she had.  I remember feeling a warmth in my heart and a peace that I had made Jesus happy.  An eagerness to give was planted in me that day, and her story stuck with me all these years.

About a month ago in my journey through the book of Mark, I ran across this story for the first time in my life. I'm not calling my mother a liar, but I'm not sure why I always secretly thought she made that story up to make me feel better that day.  hahaha!  Turns out, my Mom and her Bible knowledge are legit. (Sorry, Mommy!)  It can be found in Mark 12:41-44.  
"Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts.  But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents.  Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others.They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.” (NIV)

That day I was gifted with a beautiful lesson that shaped a big part of who I am.  It was a defining moment that followed me into life with Jesus.  My identity in Christ and the fulfillment of my purpose are tied into that single moment where a seed and a story were planted.  It is so important to be giving with the gifts the Lord has blessed us with.  The widow may have only given two coins, but they were her last!  This was an act of great faith!  She gave all she had, fully trusting that the Lord knew her needs and would provide.  Our giving is an act of love and praise for God.  It is meant to be a sacrifice; it's about parting with what you'd prefer to keep in order to bless somebody else.  Giving to others is an opportunity to glorify God for his gift to us: the offer of unmerited salvation through His one and only Son. 

I think it is important to note that I'm not focused solely on money here.  We should also be generous with our time, love, forgiveness.  Giving ourselves over to God.  So, this holiday season, let us keep the important things in mind.  Let us not be distracted by the the hustle and bustle, the giving and receiving of costly gifts, the commercialism.  Those things are all good and fun, but be conscious of giving back to others from a place of love.  For, "God loves a cheerful giver." (2Corinthians 9:7)  When we give with a pure and willing heart, He takes notice!  I welcome you all to find at least one opportunity to step outside of yourself and give back in some way this holiday season; be it through your church, a community outreach, or a personal friend.  You find your way of blessing somebody to gLoRiFy your Father in Heaven.  Tis the reason for the season, yo!

 

Yes, to my surprise, I still remembered all the words to this commercial. :D

My sweet Mason

Tonight, I was cleaning the bathroom and the rustling of noise woke the baby.  He's such a light sleeper.  He sat up in his crib and gave me the biggest smile, eyes still half-closed and full of sleep, softly meeting the roundness of his chubby cheeks.  It may have been the most adorable thing I've ever seen.  So, I stopped what I was doing and said "Do you need your Momma?" And without missing a beat, he hopped to his feet and said "Oooout?" This boy never disappoints, he's such a little lover and fully enjoys every opportunity to snuggle. (I don't know where he gets it from)  So, when I picked him up out of the crib, he threw his arms around my neck in a full embrace ...and well... melted my whole heart into a sopping wet pile of lovey-lovey-goo-goo!!!

While we were cuddling I was reminded ever so gently, by my Heavenly Father, about Mason's whole journey into existence.  What a road we traveled down just to be able to know Mason's incredibly special brand of affection!  You see, my relationship with the boys' dad was hanging by a thread when I got slapped upside the head by a surprise pregnancy.  (I use that term loosely, are pregnancies ever really by "surprise?")  I have spent all of my adult life on the baby train.  Trying to get pregnant, sustain those pregnancies, losing precious babies, and all the pain and frustration that goes along with those things.  So to be sneak-attacked by my pregnancy with Mason, at the worst possible time, was new territory for me.  

I remember being SO angry at first.  I felt trapped in an unhappy, unhealthy situation.  I recall railing at God daily.  I remember all the unspeakable thoughts that I'm too ashamed to put words to.  I hadn't even had the chance to wrap my mind around the idea of welcoming another baby into my world when it started to happen... again.  My body was threatening miscarriage.  So, my Dr. prescribed a slew of "solutions" to a problem I honestly wasn't sure I wanted to solve.  (To this day, I beg forgiveness for that thought every time it rears it's head.)  Ultimately, I decided I could not bear the weight on my soul if I had chosen not to do anything.  So I began all the lovely hormone treatments my doctor had proposed and suffered through blood draws every two days, and then every week, for 14 weeks.

I never would have guessed that THAT could be the easy part.  Not two weeks later, I got a phone call from my kind-hearted doctor explaining to me that the quad screen results had come back abnormal.  There was a 1 in 26 chance that my baby would have Trisomy 18.  Having a fairly firm handle on the medical side of things, I knew that this was just a ratio with a high incidence of false results.  I knew that this meant we would be encouraged to go forward with an amniocentesis.  However, I also knew this meant there was a 25 to 1 chance that my baby was perfectly fine.  It felt like everybody around me was overreacting.  I vaguely recall feeling like I was the comforter rather than the comforted.  Like I was the one being strong when the people around me were freaked out.  I can't tell you how many times the "termination" option was brought up, regardless of the fact that I had just spent so many weeks fighting to keep him alive.  I began researching Trisomy 18, and it was heartbreaking, to say the least.  "Incompatible with life."  Those words echoed in my head every minute of every day.  But true to my nature,  I wanted to be well-versed in what that meant for us, for him, what the options were, etc.  

So, I consented to the amnio.  We learned that day that it was another boy, but I was so distracted by what was to come during the procedure, that I don't remember saying a single word or even trying to pretend like I was excited to know the gender. :D  And then, the amniocentesis failed.  My best friend, Jessica, sat with me through the entire procedure and watched them stab me in the stomach with what I'm certain was a 4-foot long needle! Lol... but, the baby kept moving into the fluid-pocket.  I let them stick me at least twice and then they gave up.  I remember feeling quite confident that God was going to deliver me a healthy baby boy, but was never too far removed from the fear that He wouldn't.  I educated myself on comfort care and the various things we could do to improve his quality of life IF he were to be born with T18.  I prepared myself the best I knew how for what might be coming, knowing there was the possibility of meeting him and losing him.  All the while telling everyone "I can't explain it, I just believe in my heart that he is okay and he is healthy.  And if he isn't, then I believe God will take care of him AND us."  

Mason was my first lesson in trust with the Lord.  You see, I didn't truly know what it meant to have a relationship with God then, but He made sure I knew we were in His hands and at His mercy during that time.  It was also my first lesson in His grace.  He gifted me with the whisper of this baby's name, Mason (brick-layer/stone worker) Elijah (Lord is my God) ...and I never questioned it, even though I had 5 other names in mind. :) Then, some 20 weeks later, I delivered a totally healthy baby boy.  ... 7lbs 11oz, 19.5 inches long ... and as perfect and precious as they come.  Jessica likes to poke fun at me because even at that moment, I didn't cry.  I got ever-so-slightly choked up and let out some ragged sigh of relief.  And promptly fell asleep. ;) lol  

It is only now that I realize Mason laid the very first bricks of my foundation in the Lord, my God.  His name means more to me now than it ever did.  Mason has been the greatest blessing.  He is so loving, hilarious, eager, and adorable.  He has blessed his brother with an amazing bond that I could never have imagined for them.  Glory to God... those boys are in a love affair with each other. :)  Nearly 19 months later, it is Mason who teaches me to lift my hands in wholehearted surrender and give praise to the Lord!  I couldn't have handpicked a more perfect child to round out our little family of 3.  To think of all the wretched thoughts I had in the beginning, to fighting the fight for his life (which was never really in my hands), and all the fear I bore in silence... I wouldn't change a second of it.  Mason was made just for me and my burgeoning journey with Jesus.  Mason was a vessel for Jesus' love, grace, and comfort.  And he still is.  As he laid in my arms tonight, I traced his fingers with mine and thanked God repeatedly for this gift He shared with me.  I took in the sweetness of his face, the smell of his hair, and the purity of the consumption in my heart.  He was never anything other than my very own abundant blessing... ♥

"And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was on him" (Luke 2:40 NIV)

Putting Down Roots

I first read The Parable of the Sower in the book of Mark, Chapter 4, but it is repeated several times in the Bible (see also: Matthew 13, Luke 8, and Thomas 9).  So far, this is definitely one of my favorite stories in my personal study journey.  It spoke to me in a profound way, and continues to open itself to me each time I re-read it. 

In this story, Jesus begins to teach by the lake.  A huge crowd gathers and so he goes out on the lake in a boat, while the people are gathered at the water's edge. It is said that Jesus liked to teach in parables, a.k.a. stories.  So, he tells the crowd of people the story of the sower.  A farmer goes out to the field to sow his seed.  And this is what happens:

*Some of this seed falls along a path and the birds come and eat it all up!  

*Some of the seed falls in the rocky places, where there was not much soil.  It sprouted quickly, but wilted under the hot sun and died because there was no nourishment in the shallow soil!  It could not take root!

*Still, other seeds fell among the thorns and these thorns sprang up and choked the young plants, so they could bear no grain.

*And finally, some of the seeds fell on good soil!  It sprouted, grew, and produced a crop - 30, 60, even 100 times what was sown!

When alone again with His disciples, Jesus explains to them the meaning behind this fancy little riddle.  The farmer sows the word, God's message.  When the seeds of God's message fall upon the hard pathway, Satan swoops in (like the birds) to devour all the word that was sown in them and make them forget.  Others, like the seed sown on the rocks, welcome the word with joy!  But because their roots are not yet deep, they "wilt" at the first sign of trouble or persecution.  Then there are those who hear and receive God's word, but get lost in their worldly desires and struggles.  This strangles the word of God in their heart and they fail to produce a crop.  Lastly, the seed that falls on good soil represents the hearts of those who truly accept the word and produce a plentiful harvest for the Lord.

Oh, how I desire to be the good soil that seed falls on!  I don't want to be the hardened person who hears but does not understand.  Nor do I want to be the unchanged weenie that dips out when the going gets tough.  I want to put down roots!  I want to produce a crop a hundred-fold!!  Dig deeper into His word.  Pray more.  Water those seeds and let them bloom!

But how do we get there?  Listen well to our Father.  Accept and apply His messages with great trust!  Allow ourselves to experience the depths of his truth, grace, and freedom!  Let Him overwhelm us with His perfect, unfailing love so that we may live to bear much fruit!! 

So, does your faith-life exemplify the good ground?  If so, what can you do to increase that harvest just a little more?  How can you go from 30 times what was sown to 60 times what was sown?  If you have not put down strong roots yet, how can you dig a little deeper into your relationship with Jesus Christ?  What changes can you make to strengthen that trust and faith?  

Let us not allow those birds and thorns and weeds to distract us from the plentiful harvest we are purposed to produce!