I hope you are all enjoying your summer! I am up to my eye balls in summer camps and a new romantic suspense story.

To be honest, it’s been a challenging writing week. I had hit a wall – hard – when a friend of mine shot me an encouraging word about an interview I did on the Christian Communicators Live Blog Talk Radio back in November and it was such a blessing to me. Her timing was perfect and I know God used her to help me keep my eyes on Him and stay focused on what He has me doing.

Later on – same day – I had a chance to sit down with another friend who I consider to be one of the most uplifting people on the planet, and I came away with a renewed sense of purpose and hopefulness about the work God has ordained for me.

It’s easy to get caught up in the daily grind and forget the miraculous ways God has intervened in our lives. When that happens, we need to remember what God has done. We need to review His faithfulness and His goodness to us and when we do, we find new strength for a new day.

Last night, I realized that I never shared the interview with you here. So I’m taking care of that today. Who knows? Maybe there’s something that God can use to inspire you to press on and run your race well.

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Twelve Years Ago, I Was Afraid

BUT

Because God doesn’t do things the way I think He should. He transcends my understanding of logic and common sense. His scales don’t tip in my favor when I’m good, but always tip in the direction of my eternal good and the eternal good purposes of His Kingdom.

The days when the little brothers are off to college and it’s just me and her again, like it was for the first five years before they came along.

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Lori Hatcher

Lori Hatcher is the editor of Reach Out, Columbia magazine and she is responsible for my very first print article (and the two articles that followed it). I’ve had the privilege of working with Lori as an editor and it’s a delight to introduce her to you, not as an editor, but as the author of a wonderful devotional. 

• ·       Is my situation hopeless?
• ·       If God already knows what he’s going to do, why bother to pray?
• ·       Why have you allowed this to happen to me?
• ·       No one appreciates what I do. Why shouldn’t I quit?

Hungry for God … Starving for Time

Here’s a sample devotion from the book…Check it out. I know you’ll want to pick up a copy of Hungry for God…Starving for Time. It would make a fantastic Christmas gift!

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Hello! Hellooo! Anyone still here?!

The paci.

The post Run to Him appeared first on Lynn H. Blackburn.

I don’t often write about Emma or about being a “special
needs” parent. Mainly because most of the time, I don’t think of myself that
way.

In that hour, I felt every second of the last 11½ years of
special needs parenting.

The post Rite of Passage appeared first on Lynn H. Blackburn.

My son loves playing games on my phone. He has one that he’s been playing for a while now. He’s completed so many levels that he has begged me not to let his little brother play, for fear that he’ll mess things up. 

So I was surprised yesterday when he asked me to download the game onto the iPad. As I handed the iPad to him, I asked, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Won’t you have to start over from the beginning?” 

He shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. “That’s okay, Mom. It will be good practice.”

Ah. Out of the mouth of babes. Or, in this case, five-year-old Angry Birds Go fanatics.

I need to start over.
I have to.
It’s a good thing.
But it’s so hard.

I’ve completed two novels in the past five years. The first one will probably never see the light of day and the the jury is still out on the second. So it’s time to begin a new story. Time to create a new world. Time to breathe life into new characters, then make their lives difficult, come close to killing them several times, and have it all work out in the end.

I’m on the verge of a panic attack just thinking about it.

I’ve been doing everything creative I can think of—besides writing. I’ve knit. I’ve decorated. I’ve read. I’ve cooked.

But today, I’m writing.

Today, I’m ignoring the voices telling me how pointless it all is. Ignoring Trying to ignore the tension in my chest at the thought of failure.

I’m choosing to see the act of starting over through the eyes of my five-year-old.

It’s good practice.

How about you? Do you find it difficult to transition from a completed project into a brand new one? Or do you love starting new projects but have trouble finishing them? Do you find you need to take a break between creative endeavors?

I’d love to hear your thoughts! 

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I blame the kale.

All pre-chopped and bagged.
It’s why I took the kids into the store in the first place.

Have you ever been to Trader Joe’s? It’s—interesting. The layout is odd, it’s significantly smaller than I thought it would be, and the shopping carts are tiny.

On this morning, I plopped my three-year-old into the back of the cart and allowed my 5-year-old to ride along on the outside. You know. The way the little diagram on the seat warns against? Yep. That way.

It would have been fine if I hadn’t paused to grab the kale.

That light-weight shopping cart couldn’t handle the combined weight of both boys at one end, and in a flash, it flipped. The three-year-old rode it down and tumbled out with nary a scratch. (I think he enjoyed it). My five-year-old suffered two completely different injuries.

The first was physical. The cart landed on his arm. So minor it never even bruised.

The second was to his heart, and there was nothing minor about that one. He stood there, tears pooling in the eyes he refused to raise from the floor, saying, “I’m sorry, Mama, I’m sorry, Mama” over and over. And because he is so much like me, I knew that his regret had as much to do with causing a scene—with “messing up”—as it did with the trampled flowers and flying strawberries.

Once I’d confirmed no one was bleeding, I sat right there in the middle of Trader Joe’s and whispered, “Baby, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was an accident. I’m not upset. I think you’re awesome and I’m so glad you’re okay.”

I want my little man to grow up secure in the knowledge that there is nothing—NOTHING—he can do, that will ever change my feelings for him. He’s going to make messes and he’s going to get hurt, and he needs to know that I am always and forever going to be on his side.

But the truth was that even as I comforted my little guy, I was fighting the voices in my head. You know the ones who point out how everything you just did was W-R-O-N-G. The ones pointing out the workers righting the buggy, the shoppers pausing to see if the kids were okay, someone picking up the kale. All because of my mistake.

By the time we had finished shopping, the voices in my head were screaming. I was replaying the incident from the moment I put the boys in the cart, to the second I turned loose to grab the kale, to the fact that I was so focused on the kids, I never thanked the people who got the buggy back on its wheels or located my strawberries and how rude was that and was I teaching my kids to be ungrateful?

As we approached the cashier, a woman asked if the boys were okay. Then she did the craziest thing. She looked at me and said, “You’re such a great mom. The way you were comforting him . . . you’re doing a great job.”

I wanted to ask her if she’d noticed that I was the “great” mom who’d let her kids be mauled by a red shopping cart, but instead I mumbled something like “Thanks, just glad they weren’t hurt” and moved on before her words made me cry.

It wasn’t until much later that I realized what had happened. That my heavenly Father—who saw the whole thing go down and knows me better than I know myself—chose, in that topsy-turvy moment, to remind me that He thinks I’m awesome. And He used a stranger to say it for Him.

He knows that while I have no trouble believing He loves me when I’m singing praise songs with the kids or volunteering in Sunday school, it’s so much harder to believe when I’ve messed up. Dropped the ball. Blown it.

I don’t know how your Monday has been. How you’ve struggled. Where you’ve failed.
But this I know.
He loves you.
He thinks you’re awesome.

Zephaniah 3:17 – The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. (ESV)

I Blame the Kale – What I learned about God’s #love in the produce aisle. #motherhood #faith (Click to Tweet)

***I want to apologize for my lengthy absence.  I spent three months frantically writing a novel and I have no idea what happened to the month of June! I’m hoping to be back here on a more regular basis in the weeks ahead.

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Then there was the Sunday lunch debacle. The one where James asked for a cookie and I declined to purchase one. So a few minutes later when he was back asking if he could have some cookie, I not only said “No” but I gave him a lecture on repeatedly asking me for things. Unfortunately, I realized a few moments later that a sweet friend had been offering to share half of his cookie with James, and because James was trying to obedient, he had been asking for permission to have the cookie his friend was willing to share with him.

I felt like dirt. (Yes, there were witnesses).

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Best Book on Motherhood I’ve Read. Maybe Ever.

Sometimes I pick up a book because the title sounds good. Sometimes because someone I respect has endorsed it. Sometimes because people I know have read it and recommended it.

Sometimes all three.

The title Desperate – Hope for the Mom Who Needs to Breathe caught my attention.

Hope? For a Mom? Who needs to Breathe? Yep. That’s me.

Then there’s the endorsement. Yep. Ann Voskamp wrote a beautiful forward to Desperate and highly recommended it.

Then I started picking up comments about it on Facebook, Twitter, and in the blogosphere from people who I trust.

So when my smiling Amazon order appeared, I started reading immediately.

The book is co-written by Sarah Mae (the “young” mom) and Sally Clarkson (the “experienced” mom), which is one of the things that drew me to the book. Each chapter starts with Sarah Mae’s often painfully honest thoughts on some aspect of motherhood—exhaustion, mundane chores, training strong willed children—and is followed by Sally’s advice and encouragement.

What I liked:: The honesty. This is not a sugar-coated view of motherhood. This is real, in the trenches, “I’m not sure if I can do this today” reality and it resonated with me on so many levels.

What I loved:: I love, love, love the way these ladies elevate and honor motherhood. Even on the hard days. Especially on the hard days. These ladies express over and over again how important the role of “mom” is and how critical it is that we lean into Jesus, fall into grace, and rely on our Heavenly Father’s strength to get us through the long days and even longer nights.

What’s unique:: Each chapter ends with a QR code you can scan with your smart phone (and the web address if you don’t have a smart phone). You’ll be able to watch a video with Sarah Mae and Sally Clarkson discussing each chapter of the book.

I love being a mom. But motherhood is far, far harder than I ever anticipated it would be. I’ve been in the toddler trenches for 10 years and I am often exhausted. Often desperate to catch my breath and find the strength to keep going.

Desperate-Hope for the Mom That Needs to Breathe was exactly what I needed.

I highly recommend it.

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As a Mother, I’m tuned to the needs of my children.

I know when the whining has more to do with hunger than attitude. When the fighting has more to do with cabin fever than hostility. When the drama has more to do with fatigue than the situation at hand.

As I tucked pillows into cases I could feel God’s whisper in my heart…

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