Fearless. Fear less. This invitation to me this morning from the One who wrote this day came at first in a faded whisper. I had to lean in, to listen again, to hear the invitation. As I opened my heart up on the blank pages before me, the God who knows me better than I know myself began to search me and show me, as with a flashlight, all the places where fear was lurking, masked in defensiveness, pride, offense, criticism. To realize that fear is hiding in spaces in my heart not yet uncovered by the circumstances of the day. How often fear leaps out and surprises me... when my kids disobey and I fear I am an impotent mom, when my husband doesn’t seem to notice me in a moment and I fear I am not interesting or beautiful to him, when a friend doesn’t call and I fear I am too much or have hurt them in some way, when my own inability to get it all done slaps me in the face and I fear, yet again, that I am a failure. Fear. It is the spirit of the enemy, not of the God who loves me, the God who claims to cast out all fear. And as I told the truth about what I saw, I began to experience a lightness, a recognition of what is causing conflict in me, in my home. Being fearless isn’t just about resisting fear, but about staring it in the face for a good hard moment, and then turning my whole self toward love that casts out all fear. The love of the One who made me and says “I am forever with you.” With you. It’s not that there’s nothing to fear, but that the one who is with me is greater, more powerful and fear itself cowers in his presence. He tells me a different story.
My dear friend @jennyasiarose brought my three younger boys and I to church with her today and little did I know we would be stepping into the most joy-filled, authentic and humbly generous church family. We were greeted with hugs and promptly invited forward to be prayed over... each of my boys received amazing words about their gifts and identity, and the sweetest moment was watching as the young man playing the piano (completely by ear and so phenomenal) stepped out from behind the keys and anointed the hands of sweet Finn and told him he had a gift of music in him that would bless the nations. Finn was mesmerized, drinking it all in, and clapped his way back to our seats. There is something so beautiful about being a member of the family of God, of experiencing it in all its richness and diversity, its forms of worship, its gifts and varied experiences; we so often judge with our eyes and not our hearts, find comfort in familiarity and unity in uniformity. But what if we had a God that crossed all divides and became the one who holds all things together? We need that God, and we need each other in all our uniqueness to reveal the multifaceted, infinite and unsearchable God in whose image we were made. Now, time for sleep. This mama is tired!
While I am holding down the fort and building desks and painting floors, Marshall and Tucker are on their first father-son trip in Jackson, Mississippi doing a “cultural immersion” with friends we have come to know there. They have eaten catfish, visited a “juke joint”, spent time at the museum of Civil Rights, and today after church are having lunch with Dr. John Perkins. Dr. Perkins’ work is so very important and his last book, “One Blood” charges every individual seeking to live out the gospel with truth and hope and such great love. So grateful for the fact that the Jamieson men are on a journey of seeing a world bigger and more beautiful and colorful and diverse with all of its brokenness, such that they might be a part of its mending. 🌍
They say this season is gone before you know it, the one where they take over your bed and bury their faces in the crook of your neck when they’re hurt or sad or embarrassed. They say you’ll wish you had these moments back. For all the screaming and chaos and mess and potty training and fighting and competitive crazy that my boys throw at me, I am starting to believe what they say as I gaze at this little caboose sleeping in my bed after that 2 am wake up. I never really got to enjoy this age before; I was always insanely pregnant or nursing a new born when my first 3 were 2.5. But there is something about this season that is making me slow down a little, laugh more, not take them or me quite so seriously, and SAVOR. There are still a lot of days that I am rushing, losing my temper, feeling moments of fear and failure in light of attitudes and tantrums. But starting to see it for what it is -fleeting immaturity not entirely reflective of my identity or my momming - is a really healthy step. So this morning I watch this one sleep, and write this post as a way of searing it in my memory. Words are so healing and a marker for me of where I have come from and where I am going. Keep running friends, but maybe slow your pace today. #thiswordsforme
Finn and I got to celebrate this phenomenal woman’s birthday this morning! Erika, you are generous, kind, disciplined, deep hearted and quick to laugh. You are disruptively curious and the journey we have been on together has made me a better mom, more aware of the world around me and has caused my faith to grow feet. Happy birthday! 🎉 I love you!
