Root Rot.

I saved my fiddle leaf fig from root rot yesterday. Apparently I caught it right as it was beginning to happen. It was killing my tree from the roots, up. I first noticed from the leaves. Brown spots were forming on the ends of the leaves and were growing bigger by the day.

I get this. On the deepest level, I get this. While brown spots may not be forming on my skin, I feel it under the surface. I feel old wounds beginning to fester and the more I try to ignore them or push it down, the more it becomes apparent that whatever is going on inside of me, needs to be addressed.

As I researched the one MILLION things that could go wrong with a fiddle leaf fig, bless it, I realized the only solution was to uproot the fig from the container it was inhabiting. I literally had to pull it up out of the soil to save it’s life. I’m not sure what kind of parallels you can string to this, but i’m 100% certain you can claim at least one.

Now you should know that I am no plant lady. I’m allergic to air. Well, not literally, but kind of. Flowers are a big NOPE, but plants? Sure! “Why not start with a fiddle leaf fig?” said NO ONE EVER. But as i’m a go big or go home kind of a gal, “full speed ahead!” I said.

I knew once I pulled the tree out of the pot, I needed help. So I called a much more advanced plant friend over to come assess the situation. She began to pull and prod, dig and break. She pulled at the roots and broke them up. She grabbed ahold of the dead roots and pulled them out. They had been choking the live ones from the start of the root rot. She was aggressive with the plant, yet knew what she was doing. “I know it looks like i’m being mean to the plant, but i’m not. I’m helping it. I actually feel really comfortable doing this because I KNOW what this will produce. I just brought another plant back to life that was dead at my house the other day.”

As soon as she said this, it was as if all the noise that filled up the air had muffled out in that moment. It was a holy moment of the Lord impressing a truth in my heart that I never knew I needed. He was using this fiddle leaf fig as a real life example of what He was doing in my life at that moment. Like, I was in a classroom and he was shouting with a megaphone “DO YOU SEE WHAT I’M DOING HERE?! I am doing a new thing, but this is going to hurt before it gets better.” As all healing does, ya know? The cleaning out of a scrape always seems to hurt more than the scrape itself.

You see, I have walked through a season of the Lord picking our family up and uprooting us out of a place we were comfortable in. Not a good kind of comfortable. It was quite painful, actually. But I was used to the pain, it numbed places within me without knowing. Root rot was happening and all I could tell you was that something didn’t feel right on the inside. I was sad/ discontent/ complacent. And just like a little kid who refuses to stare at the wound or the problem, I was content to leave it and pray it got better on it’s own. I had no idea the Lord was physically going to lift us up out of our container and start man-handling our roots.

After she sorted through the roots, she informed me that I was going to need brand new soil. I couldn’t go back to the soil it was in before. That was where the root rot happened, I needed a brand new start. I came back with the best brand I could find and she began to stab the root ball with sticks to allow the water to infiltrate through the roots.

Lord, is that what you are doing now? Infiltrating my roots with your healing water.

In addition to the new soil, I quickly learned I would need a new pot. The tree had outgrown the pot it was in. It would need something bigger in order for it to flourish. So here my fig stood, in a new pot and new soil. We trimmed off some dead leaves and this morning as i’m sitting on my couch, looking at the plant, you would never know the trauma I put it through yesterday. I would even go so far as to say that the plant is looking healthier already. It has been through a lot so I am letting it rest for the time being. It has fresh water and the promise of new leaves on the rise.


You know, we ask the Lord to resurrect the broken places in our lives. We ask him to heal us and do a new thing. I’m not sure we always realize what we are asking. I listened to a podcast the other day where the guy talked about how Mary Magdalene did not recognize Jesus immediately when He stood outside the tomb he was buried in three days prior. You guys, she did not recognize Jesus when He resurrected. At least, not until he spoke to her directly. Things were different, the penalty was paid. He could not go back to where he was, because he had paved the way for what was to come. And there he stood in all his resurrected glory. New. Redeemed. Justified. And we want that Resurrected Jesus because He is who brought us back to life. Gave us life. The rescue story that changed everything for you and me.

In the podcast he said, “When we are asking for resurrection (for the healing or restoration of something in our lives: marriage, friendships, broken relationships, anything that is root rotted that needs life again, etc), we’re not going to get back what we recognized when it was alive.” “After all,” he said, “Do you want a resurrection or are you asking for that same thing again? Even Jesus, didn’t look like Jesus when He came back to life.”

I want a resurrection. I want it to look different. I don’t want to go through the pain of the healing process only to come back to the same version I was. I want to grow wiser, deeper, more solid. I want wholeness. And wholeness happens when the Lord takes hold of our roots and and works from the inside, out.


It reminds me of the song, “Reckless Love”

There's no shadow You won't light up
Mountain You won't climb up
Coming after me
There's no wall You won't kick down
Lie You won't tear down
Coming after me

And if I may…

There’s no root You won’t pull up, no soil you won’t break up, coming after me.


May the Lord strengthen your hands and your frame as he continues His work in you, my friend.

"This work is hard. Stay faithful." - Rachel Held Evans

I read a post from Jen Hatmaker with Rachel Held Evan’s personal words to her. In one of Rachel’s emails to Jen, she wrote “This work is hard. Stay faithful.” I cannot stop thinking about it. Encouraging words that reminded me of the men who lifted their friend on a mat through a roof to get to Jesus when he was too crippled to get there himself. (Luke 5)

When life threatens to leave you lying on the floor, unable to get back up, I want to be the kind of friend that picks up the mat for others in a hot pursuit to Jesus. I want to be GRATEFUL for the gift of my people who have picked up my mat to carry me before the Lord when others have left me lying on the ground.

But most of all i want to remember that this work of living life in a flawed world is hard work. But Jesus endured the cross and conquered death so that I don’t have to do this alone. Stay faithful, friends. he is where life is found. He is where promises are kept. He is already at your mat telling you to get up and take His hand.

Thankful for the funny world of Instagram and the opportunities to look in on emails of wise women and legacies. j Thankful that even when i’m threatened to be faithless, He remains faithful.

I wanted to include a free downloadable print for you to remind yourself of this deeply important truth. Let it sink deep into your bones.

Click picture below to download your free PDF :)

When good things become destructive things

“When a good thing becomes an ultimate thing, it becomes a destructive thing.” - Scott Nickell


I’ve been chewing on these words for a month.  In all honesty, if you were to sum up my own sin and the the thing that pulls me away from my Jesus who loves me, it is this sentence.  

I am the queen of taking something good and making it the ultimate. I let my stomach be my god, whether it be the things I fill it with to console myself in times of hurt or the things I withhold from it and worship it and my desire for a body that looks different than what I have. Each thing takes Jesus off the throne as healer of my heart and owner of my worth. 

I am the queen of allowing my feelings to take me to the heights and depths of “everything is all about me.”  Girl boss, writer of my own story, take no shit, I deserve everything my heart desires. The trouble with this is that I actually am NOT the writer of my own story. Jesus is. He is the one in control. And honestly, the more I try to control my own story, the more chaotic I feel.   I literally feel less peace, more pressure and more failure when I take on the story of everything being about me and what I get out of life. Isn’t that crazy? That’s like, the opposite of what our world tells us now as women. 

But it’s not so crazy when I stack it up to the words above. There are so many good words, good books, good people, good food, good disciplines.  But man, aren’t we so quick to make them our own personal gods? We want the control, but once we get it, we begin to implode.   In the words of Taylor Swift, “This is why we can’t have nice things.” These things begin to shape our minds, our hearts, feeding us a heavy dose of “how to make yourself your own idol.”

I am literally piling firewood in an unconfined space within my home and lighting it on fire. I sit there expecting the warmth and inspiration as the embers spark, unyielding. What turns from idealistic expectation, turns to me desperately trying to stop the fire from burning my home down. That’s exactly what these little false “gods” do, you know. What starts as a warming glow, if left unchecked and out of their rightful place, can burn us down until all that’s left internally, is burnt up ash.

Dear one, I have been left in this state more times than I care to admit. Left in the smoke and dust, my head spins as to how I got there in the first place? Why am I so unsettled? Why isn’t this working? Why do I hate myself? All the things we pour ourselves into, expecting to save us? But what I need to save myself from, is actually MYSELF.

I’m so grateful for the rescuer who stands next to me saying “Have you had enough of that, yet? Come with me. Let’s step out of these ashes together and step into the crown I have waiting for you. (Isaiah 61)” He is our great defender, our only hope, our only rescue and our ultimate LOVE. He is literally everything we seek, and fills every need in every way (Ephesians 1:23, Philippians 4:19). He takes our control, lifts our chains and gently cups our face in His hands saying,

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you REST.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

When Jesus is our ultimate thing, our ultimate love, He reconstructs the places within us that have been long devastated by those “good” things that tried to take over. (Isaiah 61)

Friend, you are never too far in, you are never too far gone. Most of the time, it is never about the “thing”. But all of the time, it is always about your heart. What good things need to be put back in their rightful place? Because your good Heavenly Father and the rescuer that He is, is moving back in and settling that storm inside your heart. Times up, little idols.



The weight of God.

“you can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.” CS Lewis.


I have spent the past three years living somewhat in the “desert.”  I have been spiritually dry, physically complacent and on a rollercoaster of feelings. But I was able to hide it well, or at least was able to package it in a bow.  A miscarriage, the loss of a dear friend, a marriage that was imploding and some deep wounding from within my home and others; I began to weave a web of deception within my friends and myself. I couldn’t articulate the hurt and quite honestly, didn’t want to face it.  I wanted to blink and be “ok.” So I dismissed it all. 

I wanted to be healed already. I wanted the already done story.  But as I learned this weekend, “To say that we’ve been healed is say that we are broken.”   And friends, I’ve been pretty broken.  

I didn’t want to admit it because I wanted to control it.  I wanted to numb it.   But the more I tried to control the facade, the more I felt the Lord pinning me down.  The more he pinned me down, the more I kicked and screamed.  I was becoming a version of myself that I hated. I wasn’t OK and I have no idea why it took me so long to admit it.  I was surviving; barely. 

It wasn’t until this time, last year, that I began to drop this fight of control I had going with the Lord.  And OH BOY, did I feel the weight of his pressure.  Little did I know that he was simply trying to remove my chains that had so tightly gripped my heart. It felt like Jacob wrestling God in Genesis 32.

“Then man asked him, “What is your name?”  

“Jacob,” he answered.

Then the man said, “your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome.”

Jacob said, “Please tell me your name.”  But he replied, “Why do you ask my name? Then he blessed him there.  So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying “It is because I saw God face to face and yet my life was spared.”

The past year has been spent, what has felt like,  standing face to face with God with the threat of wondering if God was good or if he could be trusted.  Are you hurting me or healing me?

And the outcome? Extreme pain and extreme trust.  He stuck his finger directly on a wound that I didn’t know was killing me and pressed in hard.   In that pain, I saw the Lord was not hurting me, but finding the source and healing me. 


“The weight of God is just as much crushing as it is resuscitating .” - Mo Isom

It was here that I knew with absolute certainty, that God is good and he can be trusted. With a gigantic physical blow in my life that uprooted friends, church and my marriage, came a gasping breath of life.

I’m a pretty crappy god of my own life, it turns out. My control only leads me to picking up pieces of paper in a tornado storm.  I have had to repent and go back where my wounding bled out to others and I have had to forgive when the wounding of others has been left unresolved.  

But you know what is resolved?  My Jesus and his hand over my life. As I walk out of this season, with a limp, the thing to remember is that I am still walking. I am still here and the Lord is still working in me.

I can’t change everything that has happened. And dear one, you can’t either.  But the ending? That is a different story.  And that story begins with honesty, vulnerability and a GOOD God who will fight for you.  Even if He has to fight YOU to FREE you.

Your story is not done yet and neither is mine.

The mountains are calling...

“Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.” - T.S. Elliot


The mountains are my favorite place to be. They make me feel small and I love that. I love the feeling that something is bigger and surrounding me. I think for the majority of my life, I have felt almost too big. Too much. Too outspoken. Too passionate. I took on the persona to be the “funny” one in the room or the one to carry the conversation. The older I get, the more I realize that what I really want is to sit back and rest. When I’m in the mountains, it’s a space where I feel the Lord surrounding and encompassing me. I’m reminded that i’m actually very small and there is this giant sized world that the Lord has specifically planted me in.

Each mountain takes on an important milestone the Lord has brought me to. These mountain top experiences are not without the grunt work of climbing and laboring up that said mountain. After all, the mountain top is not where I grew. I grew on my way up. I grew on my way down. By God’s grace I get a moment to see where the Lord is taking me in between these mountains and valleys. This, this is the “mountain top.” It is where the Lord allows us to see His glorious and perfect work. It is where we say “Oh that is why that happened” or maybe the Lord gives peace instead of understanding. After all, I don’t know about you, but I do not understand A LOT of why certain things have happened in my life. But I know that where there has been uncertainty, the Lord seems to draw in closer, reminding me His love and his Character. He reminds me His love is like these mountains surrounding me and there is no where I can go to escape that. He is at the peak and He is in the valley.

So dear one, “only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.” The Lord didn’t make you to stand still at the base. He is calling you out into the unknown to experience the great mass of his unfailing love and his un-thwart-able plans.

All at once I hear the Lord saying:

And dear one, you can go far. Your hand in mind, one step in front of the other. Let’s climb this mountain together.

Beddy's Review + WFHM life

Summer is in full swing over here. And as a "Work From Home Mom,"  that means that I've attempted to write this post approximately 1,345,687 times.   Whoever said working from home is glamorous, did not see the last ditch efforts of movie promising and hiding in different rooms with a lap top in attempts to get one more word, one more thought out on paper. We are surviving over here, people. But at least it's warm! And sunny! And at least this $30 blow up pool holds just the right of amount of class and respectability as my kids scream at the top of their lungs in pure excitement. Sorry neighbors, mama has to get things DONE.


But in all seriousness, I have attempted to find easy solutions to keep our family organized and put together this summer and well, life in general.  Let me be honest with you, organization is not my strong suit. And therefore, the organizational gene has not been passed down to our beloved children.  (yikes)

I hear people tell me it starts in the morning and it starts with making your bed. Bla bla bla, what do those people know, anyway. 

However, I have seen so many posts about Beddys Zipper bedding.  What intrigued me is the no hassle of a under sheet that separated from the comforter and the fact that my kids could easily make their bed on their own.  And let's all note that, YES, it is possible that our kids can make their own beds without using a simpler zipper approach.  However, the end result makes my eye twitch as it does not look like the picturesque, crisp lines that I prefer.  Because obviously this ISN'T CONTRADICTORY to my unorganized lifestyle or my current unmade bed. I have issues. 

Either way, you know what looks perfect right now? My kid's beds.  Because after receiving Beddy's zipper bedding, it has become a game changer for our family.  And not to mention, they are the CUTEST patterns i've ever seen.

My kids are 8 & 5 and they share a room. We have this crazy large room in the back of the house that would be absurd for one child, so we decided several years ago to put them together.  For our family, it has been so fruitful. I truly believe that sharing a room not only brings humility, as they are required to share what they have, but also brings a bond over late night conversations and plotting for who is going to  get out of the bed to interrupt mom and dad for the billionth time.  These are the memories that will last forever and will no doubt be talked about in their adult years of "remember when mom would go NUTS on us when we would sneak out?" I will have PTSD, but they will more than likely laugh as the cycle of sibling-hood rights of passage evolve. And that, in it's own way, makes me so happy.

However, the challenges of making it their own space for a boy and a girl are quite challenging.  How do we give our son , his own space while our daughter does not feel like she is in his world? They used to have bunk beds, which was so great for the time being but as they got older, they needed their own "sides."


So when I ordered their bedding, I bought it to match their little personalities, while also being aesthetically pleasing. Our family leans towards the neutrals. And by my family, I mean me. If it were left up to my daughter, her room would be filled with hot pink and sparkles. A cast of characters would plague every ounce of cotton and I would slowly die inside. JAY KAY. 

Well, kind of.  And before you begin to judge me for not allowing her the unicorn vomit of color, I for sure let her have it everywhere else. Just not in her bedding, that is adjacent to her 8 year old brother. We all make sacrifices...


For my daughter we chose THIS.  I knew that we could EASILY put a feminine spin on it with some pillows from Target and a canopy from IKEA.


For my son, we chose THIS.  I do love a log cabin, so really I just try to relay that to my kids as much as possible :)  We also hung some pennants of places that we have traveled, and things we love over his bed.  The ceiling is laced with planets and stars and his Tae Kwon Do Belts are hung on racks at the foot of his bed.   I really do love being able to put individual touches on their sides.  I want them to know and feel like they have their own, even though they share almost everything else. 


Once I put their beds together, they were so excited.  The quality of the bedding is amazing. Like, we are talking super soft.  The whole bed zips from each side with an extra sheet flat that gives it the feel as though it is an actual sheet with comforter. But the best part? When they wake up in the morning, they can zip it up on their own, leaving the pristine look that my dreams are made of.   Seriously, the next morning, my FIVE year old daughter made her bed exactly how I had put it together the day before. And why? Because all she had to do was zip up the sides and put her pillows back.  What is not pictured is the approximate 1, 456, 568 stuffed animals that are currently on top of her bed. 


Same goes for my son.  Him and I speak the same language and are often distracted with the next thing. However, this has given him an easy discipline to accomplish every morning.  It looks perfect at the end, because of the easy zipping, and it sets him up for success for the rest of the day. Because he is able to make his bed and make it look good, he is able to take more steps in the day with affirmation because he has seen what can happen when he sets out to accomplish something.  

Yes kids could do this without a zip up bedding and can learn the old school way. But why not help our kids with an ally-oop ?  Sometimes we just need to learn the basic art of discipline before we move on to specifics.


I cannot recommend THESE to you enough.  While I have gotten to collaborate with Beddy's, I assure you that my thoughts and opinion of them are solely my own.  Their price matches the quality.  And the fact that they are all one piece, without having to buy  the sheets, comforter, pillow cases, shams with every other bedding- the prices are comparable. Yet, Beddys, in my opinion has been the best avenue for our kids.  

Here's to organized beds and fresh starts in the morning! Now I just need to figure out how to throw away all of the toys. Just kidding. 

Kind of.... 




Beds: Made by my husband

Bedding: Beddys

Canopy: IKEA

Flower crown: EE Teepees

Pennants: Oxford Pennant

Curtains: Target


Pain in Healing

I watched him cower to the ground as he held his hand. He held it close and looked down as I began to walk towards him.  The morning had started like every other, but one step on a skateboard with a slip and fall ended with his hand grazing a rogue nail in the base of his bed.  I saw the whole thing and knew instantly that this wound was going to be a little deeper than a scratch.

As I walked towards him, tears began to well as he drew the courage to look at his hand. Blood was flowing and his panic began to set in.  He drew his hand in even tighter into his chest as I led him to the bathroom to coerce him into letting me look at it. 

Isn't that always how it works?  The fear of looking at the wound overwhelms our desire to treat the wound. 

As I sat him down, I quickly grabbed a wet rag to clear away the blood so I could know what I was dealing with.  It was deep. He was panicking and I was in my "mom" mode of making sure he felt peace but knowing this wound would need something more invasive than a bandaid and Neosporin. I cleaned up the blood and began to put pressure on it as it would not quit bleeding.  This was a great job for my son as he needed something to focus on.

"Hold that rag tight on your thumb, buddy. I'm going to take care of you."

We quickly grabbed our things and hopped in the car.  I could tell the shock of the initial hit was wearing off and the pain of the wound was starting to elevate.  What I found more interesting was the increase of fear over what would need to be done to heal his bleeding hand. He began to panic over the thought of stitches. After all, this was all so unknown to him.  Our first trip to the ER, his first encounter with stitches. His first wound that needed something more excessive than a Scooby doo bandaid.  If left up to him, he would have turned around and gone back home in hopes that he could wrap it up and have it magically disappear. 

Don't we all do this with our wounds?  Especially, the sin kind of wounding.  The sin of our families, the sin from others, our own sin, the sin from this world. This brokenness and the wounds that are inflicted.   Eminem said it eloquently in a rap lyric from one of his songs, "It's a steal knife in my windpipe."  While I don't think Eminem was specifically talking about sin, it really was the perfect imagery for it.  Most of the time, we think about Sin in the idea of our own.  In other words, we think more about our own sins, rather than how other's sin has wounded us.   Sin is damaging. We all know this.  It is the disease that infects this world. It is what Jesus died on the cross for to save us from. 

But quite frankly, It feels like a steel knife in your windpipe when someone sins against you.  It is a direct assault. Not necessarily from your own doing, but from someone else. A wound we didn't see coming.   These tend to be the wounds that we cower down and hold onto as to not panic from the reality of the blow.  There is no explanation, nothing we can do to keep it from happening again, unless we go into self protection mode. Using a bandaid and Neosporin (maybe) when we actually need something more invasive to stop the bleeding. 

But as we all know, wounds do not magically disappear. Severe wounds, if left untreated, can lead to further damage, even death.  So here we are, holding our pain in, covering it up and hoping it will magically disappear. 

Because, after all, the fear of looking at the wound overwhelms our desire to treat the wound. 

We pulled in the front row of the parking lot to the Emergency Room at UK Children’s hospital.  The Lord was near and smoothing our way to treatment. (psalm 142:3 When my spirit grows faint within me, it is you who know my way) 

I signed him in and we were immediately taken back.  As they sat him on the bed and checked his vitals, I could see the fear mounting up in his eyes.  He was trying to stay strong, but I knew he was waiting for everyone to leave to release his anxiety.  

There is something so sacred with a mom experiencing the unabridged, guards down moments with her children.  Whether it produces anger, anxiety, joy, laughter. We get to witness the "let-down, the release" in our children.  Whether good or ugly, it is sacred. It's a chance to experience a glimpse of the unconditional, never failing love of our Heavenly Father.  Our good God who says, give me your let down. Give me your release. I can take it and I will never let go.  (Psalm 144:2, Psalm 139, psalm 107:14-16,  to name a few)

Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all you who remain of the house of Israel, you whom I have upheld since you were conceived, and have carried since your birth.  Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he.  I am he who will sustain you.  I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue." Isaiah 46:3-4

It was a teaching hospital, so there were several doctors coming in to examine and inspect the severity of the wound and determine how the wound would need to be healed properly.  Our sweet boy held my hand as we sat and answered questions and talked about what had happened. They finally decided that he would need two stitches and some derma-bond. But before they could close it up, they had to clean it out.

Maybe this is what is so scary. I know it was scary for my son.  He was hearing that they were going to need look at it.  Touch it. And not just touch it, but be somewhat invasive in order to clean it.  After all, if they didn't clean it out, it would lead to the possibility of infection down the road. 

I kept thinking, "I wonder how many people are walking around with some shoddy, closed up infected wounds.  After all,  sin will have the same ramifications as an infection producing, rusted nail.

I wonder how many people have simply "shoved it under the rug."  How many people have taken the blow of sin, and quickly had to learn how to walk with a limp.  Because here is some truth. We all have sinned, and we have all been sinned against. We handle it in different ways, but what is true about every single person in this world is that we have to HANDLE IT.  

I wonder, how do you handle it?

Maybe it's a coping mechanism. Maybe it's food or drink or humor to distract. Maybe it's boiled up anger. Maybe it comes out in your relationships? Maybe it comes out in other areas of your life to overcompensate what had tried to cripple you long ago?  How do you handle it?  How do you handle that sin, those wounds?  Because remember, they just don't magically disappear. 

So there we were, cleaning out the wound as he gripped my hand, tears streaming down his face. Thankful for modern medicine, they proceeded with stitches under the care of some pain numbing shots.

You know, it seems like the healing process looks like this:

Pain from the wound. Moment of rest before the clean out. Pain from the clean out. Moment of rest before the shot. Pain from the shot. Moment of rest from the pain because of the shot. Moment of pain from the visual of the stitches. Moment of rest from the numbness.  Then a dull pain from the the pain meds wearing off and the stitches holding your wound together.  

This process alone can feel daunting. But then again, is the pain and process greater than the unhealed wound you've been carrying around, quite possibly for a good portion of your life?

In this moment, my son could not understand how this was "healing."  It was painful. It was intrusive. It did not feel good and it truly was terrifying to him.  All I could do was hold his hand, pull him in and remind him that this had to be done so that his skin would heal up perfect and whole again with the possibility of a tiny scar.  But what he needed to know was, the scar would only be a memory of what happened. It would not hurt like it hurt when the wound formed. The healing would make sure of that. 

I have found that people tend to want to live in the pain of the wound rather than doing the work of the healing to alleviate the pain.  I certainly can relate with this. After all, I spent many years cowered over, holding my wounds as they began to bleed out. I was covering spouts as new leaks began to burst open.  I had two options: Bleed out, or go through the intrusive process of healing.

Life or death.

When I began to go through the healing process of dealing with my past wounding, the story of Eustace, the boy who turned into a dragon as a result of his own greed and selfishness came to mind.  As he tried to tear his dragon skin off on his own, it simply came back thicker and knobbier than before. He was helpless as all of his efforts to turn himself back into a boy were futile. That is , until Aslan the Lion, came. Greater measurements were needed to turn Eustace back into the boy he was. I imagine our wounding in life contributes to our sort of dragon skin. We try a million ways to take it off or pretend like it's not there, but as the years go on, it just gets thicker and knobbier..

“Then the lion said — but I don’t know if it spoke — You will have to let me undress you. I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.

“The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off.  You know — if you’ve ever picked the scab of a sore place.  It hurts like billy-oh but it is such fun to see it coming away.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” said Edmund.

“Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off – just as I thought I’d done it myself the other three times, only they hadn’t hurt – and there it was lying on the grass, only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobbly-looking than the others had been. And there was I smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me – I didn’t like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I’d no skin on — and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious and as soon as I started swimming and splashing I found that all the pain had gone from my arm. And then I saw why. I’d turned into a boy again. After a bit the lion took me out and dressed me . . . in new clothes."

After I read this excerpt, I cried. The kind of large hot tears that are produced in our greatest releases. I realized that if I ever wanted to come back to myself, If I ever wanted to be healed, I was going to need the Lord to look at it. Touch it. Invade it.

And it hurt.

Watching my son go through this process of stitches, I was reminded of what this looked like in my life. Except it wasn't my thumb.  It was an open heart surgery of sorts, and the Lord was stitching me back up again. The wounds that had broken me and left me feeling worthless and empty, He was clearing it out and binding me up. (Isaiah 61)


Sweet one, I cannot sit here and tell you that the healing is without pain. It is uncomfortable. It means, being known by others. It means being known to yourself and letting the Lord cut in and remove some layers for new skin to form.

But what I can tell you from personal experience, is the kind of freedom you feel when the stitches are taken out and new skin closes the wound. 

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.  Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." Galatians 5:1

It is a broken chains, unburdened, kind of freedom. It is a healed and whole feeling. But of course, this does not mean the scar is not there. Many times a scar is necessary in the process. Sometimes the wound is so great and so deep that there is no way to not have one.  But like I told my son,  the scar would only be a memory of what happened. It would not hurt like it hurt when the wound formed. The healing would make sure of that. 

After all, "A scar does not form on the dying.  A scar means, "I survived." Quote from "Little Bee"

"He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom and broke away their chains.  Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men, for he breaks down gates of bronze and cuts through bars of Iron. Psalm 107: 14-16

You have a God who is so In love with you, that not even bars of iron and bronze can keep Him from your heart. He will stop at nothing to have all of you. He will stop at nothing to heal those dark wounds and bind you up. He is the God who shouts "SHE IS MINE! HE IS MINE!" He will not sit back and watch you bleed out. Our great surgeon who cuts in, heals and binds you up. He brings beauty from our ashes and there is no pain too great for him. 

Freedom and healing is attainable my friends. Do not let the enemy tell you otherwise. 

I am happy to report that his stitches are out and our son is on the road to full recovery.

Maybe you might start your road to recovery today?  The Lord is going before you and fighting for you. Come taste the freedom.  It's time to stand up and let your Jesus heal those wounds; the enemy doesn't get the opportunity to chain you down anymore. Jesus made sure of that on the cross.



To us, you are perfect

A love letter: On behalf of all small business owners in Lexington and across the world, thank you.   Thank you for shopping small all year and especially this holiday season.  Happy thanksgiving, we are so deeply grateful for you.

opportunities to serve- Downtown Lexington (Holiday edition)

Hey Lexington!

Our church partners with several ministries downtown that serve those in need in downtown Lexington. Our family has been fortunate enough to serve with these organizations in the past and it has been such an honor to tangibly love those in our community.  What better way to start this holiday season, than to help those in need? So I thought I would provide you with two opportunities to serve in this season:


Lighthouse Ministries Thanksgiving Dinner:

When:   Saturday, November 18th at 3pm
Where:  Sayre School Buttery

  • Volunteers are required to arrive at 1:45pm and expected to stay around 4-5 hours
  • You must be 11 years old to volunteer
  • There is no seating available for our volunteers
  • We need our volunteers to stay for clean-up 
  • Each person must fill out a Volunteer Registration Form (link below), even if your with a group
  • We are asking volunteers to donate $5 to help support the Lighthouse 

For more information, email


The Nest's Reindeer Express

The Nest's 40th annual Reindeer Express event is right around the corner on December 15th!  This year will serve 600 families with children five-years-old and under...that is nearly 900 children! During the event, the families will be provided with brand new toys, winter coats, books, and art supplies for their young children, as well as a food box for the whole family.

There are several ways to donate:

1) You can purchase items from the Reindeer Express Amazon Wishlist and have them sent directly to The Nest!  Just follow this link:

2) You can personally bring donated items to The Nest by Thursday, December 14th, which is open from 9:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m. Monday – Thursday.  

3) You can make a financial contribution designated to be used solely for Reindeer Express on The Nest website:

If you are interested in volunteering for Reindeer Express, there are several opportunities in the weeks and days leading up to the event, as well as during the event and the day after.  Please click this link for more information and to sign-up to volunteer:


"This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us.  And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers.  If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?  Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth." 1 John 3:16-18


Lets not just talk about it this season, lets get out and do.