“Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. I cling to you; your right hand upholds me.”

Psalms 63:7-8 NIV

I love my chickens. I have a flock of seven and they are one of my daily joys. Last Fall, one of my hens fell ill and needed extra care to recover. I separated her and brought her inside. I needed to give her baths to treat her infection and I had to force feed her for a week because she was refusing to eat or drink. She was close to death for a few days but slowly she began to get stronger under my consistent care and attention.

After a week, I was able to place her outside again but kept her separate from the flock. The flock was ruthlessly attacking her if they had any opportunity. In this time of vulnerability, my hen became attached to me. She would run straight for me if she felt threatened. I would scoop her up and ward off her attackers.

Slowly, I was able to transition her back into her flock and there is peace once more within their pecking order. Now she is strong and steady on her feet, eating and socializing with her flock yet she still runs to me for affection and eats out of my hand each morning. She calls for me and comes when she hears my voice. Her time of convalescence created a trust and a bond between her and I. Her survival depended on me. I was her shelter and security in a time of great need.

Just like my sweet hen, there is a deep longing within each of us to be nurtured, to be held and cared and fought for. Our core needs as psychiatrist, speaker and author Curt Thompson talks about in the “Being Known Podcast” are the four S’s: to be Seen, Soothed, Safe and Secure. Thompson states that, “We come into this world looking for someone who is looking for us”. We are all meant for attachment and attunement with another yet more importantly we are meant for deep attachment and attunement with God. To be known and to be loved, fully and unconditionally.

In many ways, these core needs go unmet or at least under met in that we are human and we are limited. Even with the best intentions, we all fall short and fail in being able to meet another persons needs perfectly. We are uncertain how to love and how to be loved. We have all felt the weight and may carry the wounds of someone we love failing us and the feeling of being unseen and unloved.

I know I have felt this weight and have carried past wounds. With God’s grace and over time, I have found healing and I am learning to release my grip on that which someone else is unable to give me. Instead I am trusting in and reaching for the outstretched arms of Jesus. As my hen looks for and comes to me each morning, I am also learning to first come to Jesus to meet my needs and sustain me throughout each day.

He is the One who is and always will be my All in All, Emmanuel, God with me. I am seen and I am known. Holy Spirit surrounds me and dwells within me. I was made in the secret place, knit together, bonded to the very heart of God. Like a mother hen, He shelters me with the feathers of His ever watchful care. I find complete rest and comfort, under His wings of unlimited, unfailing love.

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”

Psalms 91:4 NIV

Here is the link to the Being Known podcast which I referenced above.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/being-known-podcast/id1556261828?i=1000511286495

Another beautifully written resource on Attachment with God that was just released is a book entitled, “The Emmanuel Promise”, by Summer Joy Gross. Summer also has an amazing podcast that I highly recommend, called The Presence Project.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-presence-project-podcast/id1462343703

In many ways, I feel as if I am learning to trust God to hold together all the fragments of my life. Returning to Him all that feels unfinished, uncertain and at times broken beyond repair. Again and again, I place my hopes and dreams, my husband, my children and their futures, my parents health, friendships, family, fractured relationships and the state of our wounded and warring world back into His all-loving hands. 

These many things pull and tear at my heart. My thoughts and fears like shards of shattered glass, sharp and jagged. I want to see peace, beauty and wholeness but the rough and broken bits keep cluttering my vision. My hopes and dreams burst to breaking at the seams yet feel as if they will never come to fruition but instead fray and tatter and waste away. It seems impossible to imagine how all the pieces will fit together. 

Yet, I know that He holds me and He holds all things together. He is closer than my breath and so:

I breathe in—

Help me live by faith. 

I breathe out—

Not by sight. 

All for love, Jesus our Redeemer was beaten and broken, died and rose again to bring each of us wholeness and unity with our Heavenly Father. With His nail-pierced, scared hands, He takes the fragmented pieces of our lives and faith and He places them back together. Out of the tattered, frayed and broken, He reclaims and restores, creating a masterpiece out of His unfathomable grace and mercy. 

Not by sight but by faith, I behold the unseen remaking and redemption of all things broken being made whole and beautiful. Nothing is lost. His promises hold true and piece by precious piece, He is at work, in and through, and all around me. 

“For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.”

Colossians 1:19-20 NIV

“He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.””

Revelation 21:5 NIV

“For we live by faith, not by sight.”

2 Corinthians 5:7 NIV

Our oldest, our sweet beautiful girl who flutters into a space with a gentle graceful presence just turned eighteen in January. The one who was gifted to us in a time when grief and joy mingled and became almost one melody. My much loved father-in-law’s heart ceased beating while my daughter’s boomed steady and strong tucked under mine. Our hearts were breaking yet we had to find the courage and fortitude to keep moving onward. In the span of less than two months, we shockingly lost our dad and soon to be grandpa having to release him into the arms of Jesus while simultaneously welcoming with open arms our daughter who held the fresh scent of heaven. 

In this trying time, we had to cling to one another and to God, our roots learning to sway and bend and weather the storm. In the early years of parenting, our roots were forced to dig deeper into the soil of God’s unending love and day to day mercy. 

Time is an interesting thing, it seems to creep by in some seasons and fly by in others. All in all, time is fleeting and it is precious. In a matter of six years, our four oldest children will be adults and our little Hope will be a teenager. This season holds in it both grief and joy, converging into an achingly beautiful song. 

I feel that I am living in the delicate balance of remaining present and steadfast as our children go through the ebbs and flows and growing pains of childhood and early adulthood while also providing space and freedom for them to learn to spread their wings and prepare to fly. To allow each of them the opportunities to succeed and possibly even fail while also the assurance that we are here to love, support and encourage them no matter what comes their way. 

To mark the beginning of this new season, we have decided to plant a tree, a saucer magnolia. These magnolia trees are not evergreens like the familiar ones we see with white blooms in late Spring. They are instead deciduous, shedding their leaves in the Fall. At the first signs of Spring, this tree still winter bare proclaims its splendor with a punctuation of bright pink flowers as if a flight of butterflies or a flock of birds has perched on its branches. 

We will plant our small sapling opposite its dignified relative, our seventy plus year old rambling evergreen magnolia. A path to our home between the two trees and a front window view of the newest addition’s beautiful bright Spring blooms. Currently its tender root system can fit cupped in the palm of my hands. We will tend and protect this tiny treasure as it adapts to its surroundings and establishes a healthy root system. 

Audrey Hepburn was quoted with saying, “To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” A saucer magnolia is estimated to be at full height and breadth in about twenty years and I can imagine our family tree also growing in height and breadth. I can envision our future grandchildren growing up—playing, dancing, singing and reading under its branches. Sheltered by its shade and still awestruck by its Spring splendor.

My hope and prayer for you and for me, for my children and the generations to come is that like this new small sapling, our roots can become well established in God’s tender love and under His branches we may find shelter, solace and abundant joy. That even when the storms rage we can confidently trust that we are rooted and firmly held in His strong unfailing embrace. When life takes its toll, making us feel as if we are a caged bird who has forgotten their song, we can remember that we have been set free. Free to spread our wings and soar high on the current of our own God-given melodious song. 

“For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.” Ephesians 3:14-21 NIV

“but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Isaiah 40:31 NIV

–Anita Krizzan

“Leave your bags at the door”, that is the phrase impressed on my heart during my prayer time soon after the new year. Not just one word for the year but a sentence. This could have taken on a weighty or demanding tone yet I felt relief. It was instead a gentle, light and gracious invitation. The way a loved one might welcome you home after a long and weary journey. Taking your bags before entering the house and then pulling you into a secure, all encompassing embrace. All the burdens, weariness and weight from the journey rolling off, relief and comfort washing over all your senses. 

My word last year was freedom. In many ways through the year, God taught me what His freedom looked and felt like. He revealed this to me by his peaceful presence in very tiring times. As well as through his compassionate presence in past pain, giving me breakthroughs to more complete healing. God very tenderly revealed to me the ways I have functioned as a burden bearer most of my life and the ways it was beginning to take a toil on me physically and emotionally. The invitation to release my burdens into His more than capable hands was extended to me time and time again throughout this last year. 

Even so, I have struggled to surrender all that burdens me. This season has felt like walking with forced effort upon shifting sand. Between an ailing parent and children morphing too fast into young adults, things are changing way too fast. I want to hold tight as if in letting go I fear I will fall into a dark unknown abyss. Yet it is the burdens that I attempt to wear like ill-fitting armor that will eventually weigh me down and pull me under. 

A treasured memory comes back to me with the words, “Leave your bags at the door”. I smell the warm welcoming aroma of gardenias. The front door to my grandparents home opening wide. My grandpa greets me with a smile and takes me in his arms enveloping me in the biggest bear hug ever. A wave of relief washes over me and I breathe in his presence and his love. The weariness and worry sliding off my shoulders. My heart felt lighter, more free. I was home again. 

In this season of constant shifting sand, I can stand strong in the One who is and will always be my firm foundation. Resting in the truth that I am invited into a lighter way of living. Free to surrender my heavy load at the feet of Jesus. He unwaveringly and ever patiently waits to welcome me home into His stable, secure, all encompassing embrace. 

“Then Jesus said, “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.””

Matthew 11:28-30 NLT

I stumbled upon this prayer in the Lectio 365 app after receiving the words, “Leave your bags at the door.” It was confirmation for me that this indeed was a word from the Lord. My hope is that it will resonate with you as well. 

Holy Spirit, You make all things new. Awaken my heart to dream new dreams in the new year. I set aside any baggage or worries I have been carrying, releasing my heavy load, and finding home in your presence. I breathe in Your pursing love towards me. ~Amen

*This post is dedicated to both my grandpas as well as my great-grandpa. They all exhibited God’s loving presence in my life and I was lucky enough to have all three of them into my twenties. I am referring to my grandpa Jack in this post, the one with the sunglasses that I believe has an uncanny resemblance to Jack Nicholson. He was by far the best hugger especially as he approached the end of his life. 

**The photo above of a house is a depiction of my grandparents home, painted by a friend of my grandma’s. My grandparents home was a special place, a constant stability all throughout the shifting sands of my childhood and into early adulthood. 

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. -O’ Holy Night

 Flame of Hope                    

A thrill of hope seizes and surprises me, a flicker of joy warms my weary soul. 

May this thrill of hope create a spark that ignites into a flame. 

May I become an illuminator, carrying my small flame to the dark and lonely places, the worn thin, weary spaces, the wounded and hurting faces.  

The darkness surrounds me yet Jesus, light of the world, has come to pierce and shatter the night. 

—–

May the thrill of hope create a spark that ignites into a flame.

I look and long for daybreak, with tender mercy He guides my feet into a path of peace. 

The darkness surrounds me yet Jesus, light of the world comes to pierce and shatter the night. 

I am a child of the light, born of God, His fire in me burning bright. 

—–

I look and long for daybreak, with tender mercy He guides my feet into a path of peace. 

May I become an illuminator, carrying my small flame to the dark and lonely places, the worn thin, weary spaces, the wounded and hurting faces. 

I am a child of the light, born of God, His fire in me burning bright. 

A thrill of hope seizes and surprises me, a flicker of joy warms my weary soul. 

—–

“because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.””

Luke 1:78-79 NIV

“In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

John 1:4-5 NIV

This month marks ten years since I wrote my first post for Magnoliaheart. I began writing to share what was stirring in our hearts for adoption and to invite friends and family to join us on our family’s journey. 

Our daughter Hope has been home now for five and a half years. Her name really sums up the last ten years as we waited and prayed for her for more than four years and in bringing her home and all that has unfolded in helping her to heal and grow. Hope has grown so much, each new day she continues to surprise and delight us with her love and exuberant joy for life. 

It has truly been a journey of enduring hope, at times dark and uncertain, hard and heartbreaking yet we as a family have grown in strength and in faith. The addition of our daughter Hope has given our family the gift of much laughter and joy and we have learned to be more gracious and patient with ourselves and one another. 

I want to thank each of you for your continued support, prayers and encouragement through this last decade. This has been a gracious space for me where I have felt the freedom to come as I am and share my heart and our family’s journey. In sharing, I have discovered how much I enjoy writing and that it has been a hope-filled and healing outlet where I am able to work out my faith and learn to lean into God’s faithfulness and love more and more. 

I plan to continue to write as often as I am able and my hope and prayer is that you will continue to come as you are and that this space will be a gracious and welcoming place for you as well. May my overreaching message proclaim God’s goodness and the truth of who we all are, His beloved. 

From our family to yours, we wish you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! May your flame of hope burn bright and brilliant during this holiday season and in the New Year to come! 

If you are not on my mailing list yet and would like to receive my posts via email, you can subscribe by scrolling to the bottom of this post. When you sign up you will NOT be flooded with emails from me. Instead consider my posts as small surprise gifts from me sprinkled sparingly throughout each year.

I love hearing from you so if you’re stirred to do so, leave a comment by selecting the “Share your Heart” section below. As always, please feel free to share with a friend if you found this post to be an encouragement.

Sent from my iPhone

We each have a story and we have all been told stories about ourselves. Tales have been spun through past generations telling narratives about those who came before us and about ourselves before we had words to form around our memories. As humans we make sense of life mostly through story. Some wonder-filled adventures, some heart wrenching dramas, some epic sagas. We are all made to be storytellers yet we must ask ourselves what story are we telling, what narrative are we living under? 

We have been told beautiful truths about ourselves but also false narratives about who we are. We unconsciously retell ourselves ugly lies that are so deeply entrenched in our hearts that they have become our identity. These lies were somehow taught to us with and without words, through actions and inaction, sometimes intentionally, mostly unintentionally. Reinforced by our own experiences, these narratives leave ridges, ruts and ravines deep within our hearts and minds. 

I have lived under these false narratives most of my life, etched into my subconscious from the very beginning:

I have to figure out life on my own.

I can’t depend on others.

I have to shoulder these burdens alone. 

I am too much AND I am not enough. 

I will fail, AGAIN.

I will be rejected, AGAIN. 

I will be abandoned, AGAIN. 

I am not seen and valued. 

I am ALONE. 

These narratives have followed me, like lurking shadows waiting around every corner. They have caused me to keep not only others but even God at arms length. I struggle with trusting and allowing myself to depend on anyone but myself. There are times that I am surround by a room full of people who care about me yet I can still feel desperately alone and unseen. 

Maybe this is just a part of our flawed human condition and the result of a broken and fallen world yet I believe we also live under and are made for a much greater and truer story. We may play only a seemingly small role in this larger than life heroic love story yet we can not underestimate the significance and impact we each contribute. 

This is something that I am just beginning to scratch the surface of. A new near-to-me narrative that God is gently and graciously teaching my flawed and broken heart to trust and believe. God is restoring and re-storying these broken places of my narrative and I am beginning to see a much clearer illustration of who I am in Christ and how He truly sees and loves me. 

His narrative goes a little like this:

I can do all things because he makes me strong. He makes me brave.

He loves me with an unconditional, everlasting love. 

He will carry the weight of my burdens. I can depend on Him. 

His gaze is always on me and I am precious and complete in His sight. 

I am chosen and He delights in me. 

He will never forsake me or abandon me. 

He is always with me and He is always for me. 

He is rewriting my narrative, ever near, tending gently to and caring deeply for each and every detail of my story. His desire is to free me from the narrative that keeps me stuck in old ruts, afraid of the lurking shadows and far from Him. He is my Author and Perfecter. Drawing me nearer, enfolding me into an ever truer narrative that is more glorious than any story I could  possibly imagine or write on my own. 

Long ago the Lord said to Israel: “I have loved you, my people, with an everlasting love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself.”

Jeremiah 31:3 NLT

And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. 

Matthew 28:20b NIV

What story are you living under? 

Are there any false narratives in your story that you need God to restore and re-story? 

*All scenery photographs were contributed by my 16 year old son Abraham. They were taken this summer on his backpacking adventures with his younger brothers, my husband and their scouting group. What amazing stories they have to tell!

A neighbor friend brought me three sandwich bags filled with sunflower seeds that she had collected from her own garden. She had gathered seeds from six-foot tall giants with round pie-sized centers, medium and small varieties that both grow in clusters. She told me that she wanted me to plant them throughout my front yard so that she could look over and see all kinds of happy yellow sunflowers smiling back at her. Her and I share the same love language, flowers and all things green. We both come alive with expectancy when we have our hands in the dirt, sowing seeds and nurturing life. 

For me, my garden is a sacred space. It’s a place that I find true rest and I hear God’s voice most clearly. The worries and complexities of this world fall away. Everything becomes quiet and much simpler and I begin to notice the smallest of sights, sounds and wonders. It is the place where all the chaos inside me finds order and stillness and I am able to pour my heart out to Jesus. 

As I began to sow these tiny seeds that inside each shell there is the potential for bright and glorious beauty breaking and bursting forth, I talked with Jesus. Telling Him all about my hopes and worries for those I love. For the heartbreak and brokenness that I see all around. For the great losses and hardships that so many I love have endured. For dreams and desires that have not yet sprouted. For the waiting and the wondering if the wandering and lost will ever return home. 

I held each tiny wonder in my hands tucking them gently two by two into the earth. As I held and tucked in each pair, I poured out my breaking heart and tears fell. In sowing these seeds, in planting these prayers and watering them with my own tears, this labor of love brings with it great expectancy yet it is also riddled with doubt. What if nothing comes from this futile sowing, from my small meager prayers? 

Even so, I remind myself that a flower must die, a seed must fall, and be buried in the dark ground, waiting for just the right moment. When the elements are ideal it then breaks open and emerges into something beautiful and much bigger than it’s seed. The miracle of new life beginning again. 

I surrender these tiny seeds, my small meager prayers into the hands of my loving Father. I will wait with confident hope-filled expectancy, knowing that I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. (Psalms 27:13-14 NIV) Each sunflower seed I sow, each prayer I plant, packed with the power and potential to grow into a living, tangible reminder that His goodness and mercy is new every morning. (Lamentations 3:22-24 NIV) Each bright bloom that miraculously emerges and grows strong will be a glimmer of His radiant love shining down on me. (Numbers 6:24-26 NIV)

“Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.” Psalms 126:5-6 NIV

Revelation 21:5 NIV

Last fall, I scattered thousands of wildflower seeds in an area of our front yard that is a sort of dead space between the sidewalk and the road. Most years this area has become overgrown with weeds. An eye sore and an overwhelming amount of yard work to try and conquer. This year, I hoped for something different, more manageable and much more pleasing to look at yet I was not sure it would actually grow the way I had ideally envisioned. 

With all the rain, to my surprise and delight, it grew even more beautiful and abundant than I expected! I can look out our front windows and see a mini meadow with a rainbow of unique blooms. Even so, there are still weeds and while it is much less overwhelming, it still feels defeating at times. There are days I look outside and I can see only ugly weeds. I somehow overlook the beauty that is springing up everywhere in our yard. 

This meadow of beauty mingling with the ugly is teaching me lessons that I didn’t expect to learn. In many ways, I can look at life through a very limited lens. I can even get stuck in the weeds, tangled and intertwined to the point that everything seems hard and overwhelming, nothing seems good, beautiful or life-giving. 

Yet when I take a step back, when I untangle myself from the wild weeds within and all around me, I am given fresh eyes to see through a wide open window of possibility. An invitation into a love that is so much bigger and more beautiful than I can imagine. 

For my hope is in the Living God who sees me, weeds and all. He tends to my pain and heartache, holding my difficult relationships and impossible circumstances. He stands in the gap between me and every lost dream and unmet longing. He cares deeply for even the smallest of details, the mundane and messy moments, my day to day frustrations and myriad of tasks and to do’s. 

He makes all things new, all things possible and He starts by changing me. Despite all the ugliness, He breathes new life into dead spaces and creates a garden of goodness in and through me. Bringing forth abundant beauty from even the smallest split-open seed. In His perfect time, God is making even the weeds into wildflowers. 

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” Ecclesiastes 3:11 NIV

John 5:6 NIV

There are places of lack and longing, pain and rejection that reside in my heart and are written in my story that feel like cavernous holes, deep hollow spaces that echo loud, 

“Forsaken,

Abandoned, 

Unloved!”

Most days, I am certain of my identity in Christ and these voices remain silent, the truth of who I am and whose I am ringing louder. Yet, this winter my family has been sick often and I have also had my share of illness which has made me feel more vulnerable and in need of care. In my vulnerability, feeling more weak and worn down, these lies have begun to overpower the truth and the holes feel deeper and more cavernous as if they might swallow me whole and leave me feeling forever alone. 

A trusted mentor encouraged me recently that God desires to fill these holes and bring me healing and wholeness. I do want this yet feelings of doubt fill my mind and I am unable to believe, let alone ask God to heal and fill these empty, hurting places. These wounds have afflicted me for so long that I think I have let myself believe that they would be lifelong afflictions, a thorn in my side, burdens I must carry. 

God reminds me of the story of the paralyzed man who had been an invalid for thirty eight years yet even so Jesus see’s him and out of all the sick at the pool that day, Jesus comes for him. After all those years of feeling alone and abandoned, rejected and overlooked, Jesus asks him, “Do you want to be well?” I am sure the paralyzed man had his many doubts yet Jesus commands him to pick up his mat and walk. 

I believe Jesus is asking me, 

“Daughter, do you want to be made whole?”

Yes, Lord Jesus I do! Fill these holes in my heart and story. Make me whole again. You have come for me and you will never stop coming for me. You were forsaken and abandoned on the cross so that I will never be forsaken. You love me so much that you gave your life for me. I am yours, Jesus. These lies have no hold on me. Because of your death and resurrection, I am restored and redeemed. I am held and whole, forever in your arms of love. 

“Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?” “Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.” John 5:2-3, 5-9a NIV

The pictures included below are a flashback to many of my favorite Easter memories. Each of these memories fill my heart to overflowing with so much joy and deep gratitude. The first begins with one of my first and most treasured childhood memories, my maternal grandma and I hunting for Easter eggs. The rest were taken between 2006 to present of our family as they have grown and as they continue to bloom into all that God has created them to become! 

May you know God’s peace and wholeness, His Shalom at an even deeper level this Easter season. 

He has Risen! 

He has Risen indeed!

Hallelujah!

Psalms 118:5 NIV

I can see many ways in which I have functioned as a burden bearer. I have taken on burdens that I am not meant to carry. I have not put my full trust in God’s more than sufficient care. Not believing wholeheartedly that He carries me and that I can entrust those I love into His more than capable, all-loving hands. 

This way of functioning is something that I learned early in my life but this last year has tipped the scales and my body has felt the full impact. Due to varying circumstances, hardship and heart break, I have steadily taken on burden after burden as if in doing so I could somehow control the outcome or contain any further suffering. This uptick in the amount of stress I have absorbed has caused my body to physically hurt.

I am confident that even though I may have learned early how to bear burdens out of dysfunction and survival, I am also gifted in seeing and sitting with others who are burdened. I have the ability to create space without feeling the need to fix or do anything. I am not afraid or uncomfortable to sit with others in their pain and sadness. 

By God’s Grace, He is slowly and gently teaching me a lighter way of living. I am beginning to trust Him at an even deeper level. I am not made to collect my burdens or anyone else’s. My frame was not meant for this. 

Jesus took on the weight of my sin, my burdens and the whole of this world’s burdens upon His frame. His body broken, His blood shed so that all of us can be set free. He died and rose again so we can be made new. Through Jesus we are unburdened and restored, given full access to live into the open-handed abundance that we were made for. 

I am called to draw near to Jesus who is ever near to me and with unclenched hands, surrender each and every burden at His feet. He takes each one and calls them precious and in their place, He gives me a more spacious place. A space where His peace, comfort and freedom reside not only for me but for all He calls me to sit with and see. 

You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.

Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace,
that is enough for me.

-Saint Ignatius of Loyola

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Isaiah 40:29-31 NIV