here with us

It's still a mystery to me
That the hands of God could be so small
How tiny fingers reaching in the night
Were the very hands that measured the sky

~Here with Us, Joy Williams

This song plays in my head all throughout the year.  Reminding me, it was not just a baby born that night.  It was not even just a baby with special favor granted over him.  It wasn't even just a baby with prophetic gifts or destined to be a great teacher.

This baby was God.

The God before whom Isaiah fell, covering his eyes from the blinding light and cried out, "Woe is me!  I am a man of unclean lips!"

The God that placed Moses in the cleft of the rock, so that he saw God's backside--and his face glowed so much so that the people begged him to cover it up.

The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  The God that brought Moses and the children of Israel out of Egypt.  

The God that slew thousands of Egyptian firstborn.  The God that struck Uzzah dead for disobedience.  The God that killed the priests that disrespectfully offered strange fire.

The God that strengthened a shepherd boy to kill a giant with a stone and a sling. The God that enabled Gideon's few hundred to wipe out thousands.  

You don't mess with this God.

And yet, for the sake of love, He allowed Himself to be born.

He could have come in all His glory, as a King--and we would have been forced to honor Him!  He could have come and been given all the glory that He so muchly deserves from His own creation--us.

But He came and was born.  A helpless, weak, tiny baby.  Born to one of the poorest of the poor.  In the depths of the lowest of the low...in the midst of animals, dirt, grime.  He was placed in a feeding trough, when He is accustomed to a shining, white, glorious throne.  

But He chose for it to be that way.

He wanted to be here with us.

...how how He loves us...

trust issues

I will admit it.

I have trust issues.

I did not always.  I was always the naive one.  The one that you could get to believe pretty much just about everything.  Because I trusted you.  I did not see any reason to not to--why would you lie to me?

I was the wide-eyed girl that believed everything she was told.

She never wanted to think badly of anybody.

She was the one that fiercely defended her friends when accused.

She was the loyal one.

I'm talking fierce.  I loved hard.  All in.  All or nothing.

But then, this little girl learned a hard lesson.

She put so much trust in people...she believed in those that she loved and those that loved her.

And then....

They failed her.

Friends betray.  Family lets down.  People change.  Hearts are fickle.

And the little girl crumbled.  Because she trusted them with her heart.  She let them in, she gave it over, all in.  And they crushed.  They broke.  They betrayed.  They....

...were human.

Innately, we all have the desire to be held firm.  Our hearts yearn to be cradled in the cleft of the rock.  We all want to trust...in something.  We all want to find our worth...in something.  We all want to find purpose...in something.

Something tends to take many forms.  People.  Drugs.  Sex.  Career.  Money.  Hobbies...the list could go on.

So we search.  We try.  We fall.  We break.  And we quickly find...

...that we are let down at every turn.

That nothing is unshakable.  That nobody is perfect.

And so we get trust issues.  

Was that the intent of the Designer when He wired us with that desire of being held firm?  That we would all become broken, bloody, bruised people?  Bitter and resentful of life, ready for betrayal and heart break at every turn?

He whispers over us in His Word,

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart..." (Prov. 3:5)

And the verse has new life to me.  In my journey to find worth, in my quest for purpose, I trusted the world with all of my heart.  I gave my heart to my family and friends, never fearing.  Until I was broken.

Now I am bloody and bruised.  All I have left are pieces of this heart.  And I find myself clutching them close.  Holding them far from anyone and anything that could ever again break them.  

But in the process, I grow weary.  I grow hungry.  There is a longing in my chest that I can no longer deny.

And He keeps whispering.  He is relentless.  He pursues me.  He chases me.

Whispers sweetness to my heart, beckoning the bloody pieces to find their rightful home:

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart..."

And I surrender.  Hold out my hands and offer what is left of the tattered shreds of what once was so strong.  The fearless heart, limp and torn.

And I offer it up, my last act of trust.  Giving it over.  All of it.  Every shred.

He holds it in His hands, and closes it fast.  And I can feel...that this was the final place.

Because now, every hurt, every betrayal, every pain has to find its way through His hands.  

Does that mean that they won't ever happen?  No!  But that every one of them is purposeful--He will not allow me to undergo unnecessary pain.  

By surrendering my heart to Him, I give Him my everything for His greater purpose: for His glory.

Sometimes my pain is necessary for His glory.  But then, sometimes His glory is found in my joy.  

But ultimately, His glory is found in my satisfaction in Him.

Which means, that even through pain, even through trials, even through the darkest night, because I have trusted Him with my heart, I have an everlasting Rock.  

His promises stand firm forever; they never change.  He will never take them back.

I know that He lives, I know that He stands firm forevermore.  I know that He will never betray me.  I know that He will never change.

I know that He reigns sovereign.  My desire is filled.  I am cradled in the cleft of the rock.

Storms may come.  Pain may overtake me.  People may betray me.

But it doesn't matter.  My God holds my heart.  

Wherever He calls me, I will go.

Where He holds me, I will stay.

I can hold tight to His promises: He will never leave me nor forsake me. 

Indeed, I'm thankful for my trust issues.  They have driven me harder to my knees, closer, stronger to Jesus, and taught me more of what it means to trust in the Lord with all my heart...

giveaway winner

And the winner of the Set Free Apparel giveaway is......

Laura Hallett!

Congratulations, girl! :-)

confessions

I notice a trend with the online world.

It's easy to put on a show.

Let me back up.

Never before, in the history of the world, have we had such easy access to so much fodder for the imagination, the mind, the emotions--at the click of a button.  With one post on Facebook, we make ourselves vulnerable to a plethora of emotions.

We hope that people will 'like' it--then we find ourselves noticing just how many people 'like' it.

Then we notice that maybe, certain people that we wanted to 'like' it, didn't.  Is there something wrong with it, then?

Then, we notice that a friend got at least twenty more 'likes' on a far inferior post (in our own opinions, of course).  Why?

People don't like me as much?

Or worse--nobody 'likes' the post at all.  What then?  Rejection.

Moving on.

As I browse through various blogs, Pinterest accounts, articles, people's Facebook statuses or photos, I find myself...unconsciously comparing.

It's just a brief moment, then it's gone.

Then it comes back stronger in the next comparison.

Then the next.

Then the next.

Soon, I find myself unhappy with my life.  Unhappy with what I'm doing.
And I can't put my finger on why.

"I feel like it's not enough."

"I feel like I need to do more."

"I feel like what I do is inferior."

"I feel like I'm not doing it right."

And the emotions roll on.

I have compared myself to the life of others.  What's worse.

The life of others as seen online.

It is an impossible standard, my beloved readers.  What's more, a platform that I see tragically abused.

I have witness with my own eyes, bloggers that write precious words about the Lord Jesus on their blogs--words about their lives and how well they are living, how humble they are before the Lord...

On the web, they have an idyllic life.  It doesn't mean that they all are living the American Dream.  On the contrary, some people even use this as a platform--to talk about how humble they are.

On the web, they have perfect hearts.  Nobody struggles (for real).  Nobody sees pain (for real).

If they do, they only write about how 'they' pushed through.

And I sit back, as the reader.

Am I the only one struggling here?  Am I the only one in pain?

Am I the only one that hasn't found that permanent solution that keeps me from ever feeling anything negative?

Because I'll admit to some of the above.

I'll admit that I never want to write about my struggles, because I don't want to admit I'm weak.  Weak, for real.

I'll admit that I only like to write about the good things that happen, because I don't want anyone to think badly of me.

I'll admit that my life often doesn't match up with what I write, that soon after I hit 'publish' on a post, that I end up losing my temper with a sibling.

I'll admit it.

I'm a hypocrite.  And I'm contributing to the worldwide epidemic of depression caused by internet perfection pressures.

What will I do about it?  First, ask you to forgive me.

Will you do that?  I'm sorry for any pain I have caused you.  Any feeling of inferiority.  Any thought of comparison that would steal your joy.  For the cause of making myself feel better, for making myself look good 'online'.

I apologize.

I find myself not writing as much through the trials, because I fear writing something I'll regret.  Something that may make me look *gasp* like I'm fallen, like I'm broken, like I need a Savior.

I'm here to make a change.

And begin my confessions.  Real confessions.

I already started above, but really, I'm a real person just like you.

I struggle everyday.  And not just with those deep spiritual struggles that I so eloquently write about so often.

I struggle with being patient with my brothers and sisters.

With not losing my temper.  Over stupid things.  Like when someone asks me a dumb question.  Or, dumb in my mind.  -_-

I struggle with not complaining.  With not talking through my irritations.

I get upset when my mental routine gets jarred.  If someone spontaneously asks me to do something, I almost feel crippled--I hadn't planned for that!

I waste time on Pinterest.  Like, really, I'm not being facetious.  I try to mostly use Pinterest for writing, but more often than I'd like I end up browsing Star Wars fandom pins, or something of some such frivolity.

I drink too much coffee.  For real, I will feel my blood racing through my veins.  Sometimes it makes me nervous and upset.  But I don't want to cut back.

I'm afraid of failing.  Not just like normal people are afraid.  I'm petrified of failing.  To the point where it keeps me from even starting projects.

I never blog consistently.  (But you all knew that. ;P)  But sometimes I don't even reread my blog posts. O_O

I sometimes go months without writing in my journal.

I went years without writing any sort of stories or novels...even when I had ideas.  Because I was too lazy and too much of a perfectionist to get them done.

I hate cleaning the bathtub.  Or the toilet.  And doing dishes.  Blllleeeeeecccccchhhhhhh...

I keep starting to read certain books and never finishing them--even as much as I love them, and as much as I love to read... *Cough* Desiring God *cough*!

I am too sarcastic.

I'm overdramatic.

You're not alone, my beloved reader.  I haven't even scratched the surface.

But the facade is over.  And I challenge you to do the same.

On whatever platform that you may have, in whatever way that you interact with others online or otherwise.  We all need to know that we're not alone.  Stop taking ourselves so seriously.

Be real.  Write real.  Post real.

We would have no need of a Savior if we were not fallen.  We would have no need of a Perfector if we were not flawed.  We would have no relish for heaven, if our lives were already heavenly.  We would have no need of grace if we were not weak.

We would have no need of faith if we did not live on the edge.

I'm still afraid of looking weak.  I'm afraid of people judging me.  I'm afraid of what people think of me.

But it's because of the grace of Jesus that I don't have to be.  That I can be bold and honest.  That I can share my struggles, my weaknesses, my faults, and have no fear.

Because in sharing, we strengthen one another, encourage one another--remind each other of the overwhelming power of the grace of Jesus.

Be bold, my dear readers.  You're so beautiful--even more so when you're broken. (<<<<click the link, you'll be glad you did.)

{Fashion} Review & Giveaway: Set Free Apparel

Hello, my lovely readers, do I have a treat for you!  

Most of you know that I am passionate about honoring God in the way that I dress. I want to honor God by not only sufficiently covering my body, but in choosing stylish, fashionable, and tasteful apparel.  

I like to view fashion in both jewelry and apparel as art.  Art in which I represent the Lord and His excellence and beauty!  As His representative on the earth, I want others to look at me and remark at the excellence in which I present myself, glorify my Father who is in heaven.

With that in mind, when I found Set Free Apparel, I knew I'd stumbled across a little jewel!

I was looking for something comfortable, but stylish--and loved all the styles I found on the shop!

Check out some of my favorites:

Worry Not Women's Shirt

Live Love Show Grace Women's Shirt

God is My Refuge Women's Shirt

...this is just a sampling.  They have more women's shirts and some awesome men's shirts too!  

Check out their Etsy shop to see more.

"I wanted to design men'sand women's Christian clothing that not only communicated the principles, ideas and truth of our faith in a creative way, but clothing that was also clean, contemporary and stylish. A fresh alternative and fashionable option for Christ followers....  

All that said, it's much more than selling cool Christian shirts, I also desired to use my talent and ability for something greater; the Kingdom. A portion of our profit will go directly to Food for the Hungry. Click here to learn a little bit more about what God is doing through them.

We are a family owned and operated boutique. We very much hope you like our clothing. And if you do, please spread the word by socializing with others about us!"

~from Set Free Apparel's founder, Nick

Set Free Apparel was incredibly generous and sent me one of my favorite shirts to review for you all!  (And stick around, and there just might be a giveaway too!)  ;-)

I chose the Proverbs 31 Fearless Women's Shirt and was so pleased with it when it arrived.

I usually wear a size XS in Womens or a M or L in Juniors.  I found the M from Set Free Apparel fit me perfectly!

I was so happy to see that it was a v-neck tee that I didn't have to wear a tank top with!  I'm so used to having to layer my tops, it was so refreshing to be able to wear my favorite cut (v-neck), but it's neckline was nice and high enough that I didn't have to supplement it. 

The fit was perfect--not too tight, but still not boxy.

Super soft and comfy--the 100% cotton knit felt thick and well made.  I have no fears of wearing it out too soon!

All that said, check out Set Free Apparel's Etsy Shop and follow the steps below to win a $15 gift certificate so that you can get a t-shirt of your very own!

Giveaway runs from 10/02/14-10/09/14.

Winner announced next Friday, on October 10!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

{Trim Healthy Girl} Cookie Dough Dip // THM

This recipe has moved! Click HERE to see it on my new blog!

five minutes

Being just so type A, I thrive on schedules, regimented time blocks, routines--the whole regime.  I hate trying to just 'fit things in', I want everything to have it's own allotted time block so that I can check it off my list, instead of leaving it half-done.

I find my day is made up of distractions and--instead of the half or whole hour increments that I crave--my time consists of teeny blocks of five.  Minutes, that is.

What to do?  At first I was irritated.

"I can't just SIT DOWN and get this done?!  Come on!!"  The laundry would call.  A sibling would need something.  My mom would need an errand run.  A friend would ask for help.  Inevitably, something would come up.

The story always went:
Amy sits at her computer to write.
If it is not between the hours of 9pm and 6am, chances are she gets called away for, or distracted by something.
Amy decides to sacrifice sleep instead.
Amy, running on little sleep, can't think clearly enough to be able to accomplish anything...anything WELL at least.
Amy notices hours of fragmented free time during her day--but despairs, because it's not how she likes to work.

Five minutes of free came, I despaired.  There's nothing I can 'get into' right now.

Do you remember Toy Story?  At one scene, the mom tells her son that he has five minutes before they leave to go get pizza.  The son responds, glancing at his toys, "Five minutes, eh?"  The wheels turn.  How much can I play in five minutes? 

Next scene, he has concocted a huge, elaborate set-up for his toys--he is in the middle of an epic adventure with his toys when his mom comes to get him.

This kid knows time management.

I'm always in a rush.  I see five minutes as a tiny block of time--not enough to finish anything, so why try?  I'm highly distractible.  I have a hard time finishing something, if I don't do it in the same sitting as when I started.  Just get it done, get it done, get it done.

God doesn't call us to rush life.

He calls me to take that five minutes, and instead of wasting that precious five, throwing it away, proclaiming that it's not enough for me, saying that I want more--He calls me to embrace that five minutes, and give it all I'm worth.

To remember that it's sheerly by His grace that my heart beats, my lungs breath for those five--how am I blessing Him?  How am I taking the gift He has given, relishing, breathing, and loving those five?

While I'm waiting outside karate, waiting to drive the kids home, I could send an encouraging text to a friend.

When the I know the dryer is just about to be finished, I could answer one email.

A few minutes before I leave to take my sister to babysitting, I could read a few verses of His Word.

I could read a page in one of my current books.

I could fold half a basket of laundry.

I could clean the sliding glass doors.

I could read a board book to the baby.

I could write 100 words...or maybe more.

I could read a blog post, like this one that I took those five to read this morning.

I could count gifts.

I could kneel at my bed and pray.

Five minutes is a long time, to the Maker of Time.

I am ashamed that I so nonchalantly tossed the gift of five aside, calling it useless, neglecting its small worth.  I am ashamed that I frowned upon the small, that I scowled at the thought of such a tiny increment.

I can't do big things in five minutes.  Oh, Amy?  And one Who's time table are you on?

Don't despise the small, cherish the small.