Bound{aries} a line where the bound-up are set free

“Saying no to something actually means I am saying yes to something more important.” (KV)   When we first got married, my husband and I encountered one of the biggest challenges we have faced in our married life.  How to … Continue reading

Finding Rest In Tight Spaces

Lately I’ve had a reoccurring nightmare about being it tight places or unable to move part of my body for extended periods of time.   I don’t have to be sleeping to feel the panic or envision the horror of this sensation.

We recently chose to homeschool our older kids.  Many different reasons culminated into this decision, like trickling streams converging into one gigantic rapidly flowing river… Which has swept our family up into itself.

We decided a week before school started.  And our materials arrived a week after school started.  This alone usually would send me into a panic.

I’m very deliberate.  I like to have things planned out.  To know exactly what my next step is going to be before I take it.  Especially if I’m supposed to be overseeing details and planning schedules.

However, I rolled with it.  I went for the ride.  A true testimony of God’s work in my heart and mind.  I trust Him.  After all, ultimately we are doing this because we all heard His voice very clearly, and we’re obeying. Even me, on the fly.

But when week four rolled around and we still haven’t purchased some key pieces of the curriculum and I’m still flying by the seat of my pants in regards to how to schedule a day with two fully schooling children, a pre-preschooler and an infant… lets just say, I have a knot in my stomach that is only alleviated when I’m on my knees breathing in His presence.

What I’m learning today is how to keep breathing on the run.

I’ve told many amazing women  that its all about remembering what HE thinks about us,  and letting go of what we think of ourselves.  It’s now time for me to put this into practice again.

As I navigate pre-teen attitude, sloppy work because I’m mom and not teacher, screaming 4-year-old tantrums induced by lack of attention and an infant demand feeding and teething every hour around the clock… I automatically hear the voices of friends, other homeschooling moms, the tutors we’ve enlisted to help us, and teachers from the kids’ school last year.  I feel pressure to preform.  I feel tension of being behind.  I feel lack of missing tools and skill sets I never learned through my round of schooling years… I feel myself pinned into a tiny space, where my ribs contract in and can’t push outward, and my muscles ache with spasms of straining.

Then, when the tears come involuntarily, I hear it.  His very close whisper.

You are perfectly where I placed you.

I can’t see Him.  I can’t the perfection.  I can’t see how this will end.  But I hear Him.

You are perfectly where I placed you. Trust Me.

The thing is, I don’t know how to get it all done.  I don’t know how to order my day so that my kids don’t slip behind and I fail them.  I don’t know how to implement everyone’s well meaning and wonderful advice.  I don’t know how to teach things I never learned myself. I don’t.

But, HE does.


He knows my children individually.  He knows the number of hairs on each of their blond little heads.  He knows when their bellies are empty and their hearts need hugs… He knows what their minds contain and what they need to be filled with.  He knows what He created them to accomplish, and how to get them there.

And He still placed them in my care! 


He placed them in my care, and He is able to give me each and every moment as it arrives in time.  I may not be organized or prepared.  We may be behind a little, and I will probably leave gaping holes in their learning.

But HE won’t.


His opinion of me is that I am perfectly where I need to be.  His opinion is that these children are perfectly where they need to be.  His opinion is that this is exactly what we are supposed to be doing.  In His opinion, we’re all okay.  His advice is that we listen to Him in each moment throughout the day.

I might be in a tight space for a while, as I learn to adjust my expectations and opinions of myself.  And, as I learn to clear my head of the opinions and thoughts others have expressed to me in order to place His thoughts higher, I learn who really has it all under control.

 “From the end of the earth will I call unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: Lead me to the rock that is higher than I,” Psa. 61:2


Miracles From a Mud-pit.

I am sitting here, near the people I love most, and again I am in awe at how full of blessing our lives are.  All the little miracles that unfold each day reveal how involved God is in each moment of our lives.  His indefinable ways pouring grace and laughter into our experience.

There are times when I forget to look, and then can’t see.  I grow weary and impatient and even frustrated that the efforts I am pouring out reveal little or no produce.  It’s so easy in these brief seasons to fall into the habit of believing it all depends on my ability, my skill, my growth, my efforts.

A little pit develops, forms a small cavernous space of anxiety and grows into displays of ugly control, insecurity and desperation.  It is easy to get a bit lost… to find myself sitting in a mud pit, flinging mud all over the place in my attempts to get out.  It’s old territory, my old self grimacing back at me in my reflexion.

The miracle that tips off all other miracles is that of remembering, recognizing.  To appreciate.  To look beyond myself.  To set aside control, remembering that none of the good in my life has been attained by me or anything I have ever offered or put effort into.  To see how everything that I have is a gift.  Purely, simply, a gift of mercy.  Of blessing.

This miraculous gift of remembering unfolds a chain of miracles.  Looking beyond myself, back to the edge of my mud pit, remembering that I have been lifted out of it before, I see Him.  Standing very near by and smiling.  Hose in His capable hand, the water pours over all over again, not just rinsing me clean but completely washing away my mud pit… anxiety, fear, control, temper, impatience, weariness…. leaving me dripping with clear glistening joy, my feet back on solid ground.

And He says with a hint of laughter, loving patience warming His voice, “We’ll do this as many times as it takes, My love.”

I am sitting here, near the people I love most, and again I am in awe at how full of blessing our lives are.  All the little miracles that unfold each day reveal how involved He is in each moment of our lives.  His indefinable ways pouring grace and laughter into our experience… His perfect patience, unending willingness and indefinable acceptance the greatest miracle of all.