Posted on by castleberryhearts

The things I am not waiting for

I will never forget that ultrasound. In the second trimester of my pregnancy , the quietness from the ultrasound technician was deafening.

 

“No, no, no…” I heard myself say audibly as I watched her face fill with sadness, “Please tell me ‘no.'”

 

Then the words I had heard once before were spoken, “GraceAnna, I’m so sorry. There is no heartbeat.”

 

The days that followed were difficult and oh so painful. My husband and I drove to the hospital the next morning and I delivered a perfect little girl, we named her Rose. She was tiny in Grant’s hands and we loved her so. We buried her in a cemetery not far from his childhood home in Dallas.

 

I’ve always gotten so sick in each of my pregnancies. I have four beautiful children  now and have felt the waves of sickness that pregnancy brings with seven little ones. It is really hard. But when I got pregnant with our little boy, Patrick, my perspective was different.

 

It’s not that it wasn’t hard, it’s just that after holding and burying Rose, I viewed it all differently. I was sick, but I didn’t care like I had before, I just wanted him.

 

Rose, along with the other two children who went to be with the Lord in my womb, taught me that pregnancy might be the only time I ever got with this boy.

 

As my perspective shifted with my view of this time, my words changed too. I no longer said, “I just can’t wait for…” anymore. I didn’t feel guaranteed the “next phase” even though I longed to hold him in my arms one day.

 

It was a season of waiting, for sure, but it was also an ever important season of being the mother to the little boy in my womb right then. Rushing it away, could be rushing away the only time God had given me with Patrick in this life.

 

I think in mothering little ones, there is often a temptation to hurry things along. I know because I’ve been there. We are ready for that little one to be born. We are ready for them to sleep through the night. We are ready for them to quit teething. We are ready for them to walk and not crawl. We are ready for them to distinguish between edible and inedible objects. We are ready for them to transition out of diapers. We are ready for nap time or bedtime or the next stage, whatever is. We are just so ready.

 

Maybe we wonder why God is making us wait. It is interesting though, to think about all of these stages that God created. Nine months in the womb, the newborn stage, teething, sitting up at six months, learning to walk around twelve months. He created an order of events.  Maybe He knew we would want to rush things. That we would want to hurry when this is what He wants us to focus on, the right now.

 

Because so often what we think is just “waiting,” is exactly where we need to be.

 

When I was pregnant with each of my children, I wasn’t waiting to mother him or her, I was mothering them in my womb. Protecting them, praying for them, and nourishing them, right then.

 

And now that their voices fill our home, I’m not waiting to one day be useful with my life , I am being useful right now. I’m not waiting have a ministry, I have a ministry right now ~ the most important ministry I will ever have. I’m not waiting to enjoy my life when things are more orderly, more quiet, less stressful, I am enjoying it right now.

 

I can choose to view every stage of my life as something to get through, but if I am always viewing my moments as a waiting game, I will soon discover that I will be waiting my whole life. For the seasons of life always involve waiting. It is how God designed it and He is calling me above all not to wait for the next season, but to wait for HIM. Wait for His presence, wait for His deliverance, and yes, even pray for some seasons to pass in His timing, but most of all that I would find Him in my waiting.

 

For ultimately, we are waiting for eternity where God will one day make all things right.

 

Instead of just waiting for the next thing, I want to be investing right now. Lord, help me invest right here in this moment where you have so clearly put me! How does one invest over  a lifetime? It’s not by hurrying each day by until nap time, the weekend, or waiting for the next stage of life or our children’s lives.

 

It’s not by encouraging one another by saying, “Just wait, when this phase passes, it will be so much easier.” And who knows, maybe it will be way easier, and maybe we will enjoy it more, but it won’t be any less important. It’s not guaranteed either.

 

I want to stop believing the lie that tomorrow is more important than today or that something is better because it’s easier. I want to invest right now. How can I dig in to this really hard moment and give God glory? In this moment of chaos and hard, God hasn’t forgotten or left me, this is the moment He knows I need.

 

I want to embrace all the hours with my children and realize how important they really are. Sure, I’m going to get tired and worn out, but what can I teach them about trusting God in the midst of that? What can I share with them about my relationship with God and how I am growing? How can I pour myself completely into right now and not just wish for it to be over?

 

Maybe I can grab my kids and read to them on the couch when I have a million other things to do. Maybe I can teach them to roller blade or build a lego tower (or maybe he will teach me). Maybe I can fold the laundry with my girls and really listen to their questions. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a world right here in front of me that doesn’t need to be hurried through, but just needs me.

 

Because the next phase will come. When Christmas is over, believe me, I am ready to get that tree out. It’s time. The season has passed and I’m not usually sad about it.

 

And I want to embrace all the next phases with my children without regret. I know too well I fail, I will make mistakes, but I want to know that I didn’t spend the time hurrying it by. But that I invested in the midst of it. That I learned everything I could about how to teach my children to obey, to love the Lord, to grow. And that during these years, I grew right alongside with them.

 

Right now, I am teaching my children the hymn Take My Life And Let It Be. The first verse says this,

 

Take my life and let is be consecrated Lord to Thee.

Take my moments and my days;

Let them flow in ceaseless praise, let them flow in ceaseless praise.

 

So, let’s encourage each other to fully be right here, which is where we need to be today. Let’s not hurry by what He has ordained, but wait for His presence in it. Let’s trust Him to grow something beautiful today, that one day we will enjoy because we knew His faithfulness in all the moments leading up to it.

 

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” – Galations 6:9

 

 

 

 

 

Posted on by castleberryhearts

Freeing myself from picture perfect motherhood

I was going through some notes on my phone today and found what I think was the title of something I wanted to write about but never did. The note was created on March 26, 2017 and was titled, “Freeing Myself from Picture Perfect Motherhood.” 

I clicked on the note, only to find it completely empty, and it made me smile. 

Undoubtedly, in that moment when I was trying to express something, I had been interrupted by someone. Thus proving what I am sure I was trying to explain in my thesis to be true. 

Motherhood isn’t picture perfect, no matter how beautiful it may be framed. 

It can be easy, no matter how hard we try not to, to get this idea in our heads that motherhood should somehow be picture perfect. I think that is partly because God has put in our hearts the desire for a perfect world. One that is unstained by our sin, our children’s sin, and the suffering that comes from a world broken by it. 

Genesis 3 is clear that a curse has come upon mankind ~ and that curse affects both the man and the woman’s spheres of life. 

Man will have thorns in his work and the woman will experience pain in childbirth. This stigma from the beginning of time, overflows today into every area of our lives, doesn’t it? 

And even as women who put our hope in God and know these things to be true from Scripture, find it so easy to forget, don’t we? 

For around us and through social media, we see a world of picture perfect motherhood, and we wonder why our own little domain isn’t quite like that.

We wake up in the morning expecting our world to look something like that, and when it isn’t, we may find ourselves spiraling into a dark place. Of course, we probably wouldn’t put it into those terms exactly, but deep down I know so many days that’s been true for me. I’ve woken up and faced the day believing my children will naturally want to obey, that the kitchen floor won’t suffer a ridiculous spill of chocolate milk, or that my energy or sanity will be like a gurgling and endless fresh water spring, constantly meeting my own needs and the little people around me. 

I don’t know what I was planning to write on March 26, 2017, but I know what I want to say today, on October 16, 2019. Motherhood isn’t picture perfect for me, and I want to be set free from any expectations from myself or others that it will be or that it could be.  

But while all my moments aren’t frame worthy by some standards, they are one of the most important things in this life to me. If I could look back on the past few months and point to something the Lord has been teaching me, it would be the understanding that most of my days will not go as I plan them. In Galatians 5, Paul says that there is a battle going on between the flesh and the spirit. That if we know the Lord, if we belong to Him, there will often be a struggle in our hearts between living by the flesh or living by the spirit. He calls it, “the works of the flesh” and the “fruit of the spirit.” Every day, there will be temptations and there are battles to be fought in the home ~ both in my heart and in the lives of my children. If they know the Lord, I can begin to explain this to them. That the Holy Spirit is a helper in their hearts to help them obey, but that their flesh and sinful desires will often not want help. I love though, that the works of the spirit are described not as works at all, but as fruit. Good and delightful things growing right there in the midst of the battle, in the midst of my heart and the hearts of my children as we seek to obey Him. 

My best days of motherhood aren’t the ones where I think or expect them to be perfect,  but the days when I am set free from that idea all together. The days when I know there will be battles and messes happening, both in my heart and in the hearts of my children, but that I don’t have to face them alone. That through the power of the Holy Spirit at work through me and God’s Word, there is hope, beauty, joy and fruit growing. 

That my motherhood story is beautiful, it is of incredible value, it is a time I cannot ever get back, and it is not picture perfect because it is so much more than could ever be captured in a staged snapshot. Battles aren’t beautiful, but when the enemy loses and victory is won, they are places of triumph and remembrance. Life is altered and made there. Lives are forever changed there. Little hearts are formed there. 

As a mother, I don’t ever want to believe that one bad moment has  ruined our day, no, it’s shown us where we need to look today. It’s shows us that a victory is in the making and even when a battle is loss, forgiveness is calling. 

Today may be hard, really hard, we may have breakdowns at the laundry pile, squabbling at the kitchen table, and I may even find myself regrouping behind a locked bathroom door. But those days, those days that are hard and I look up, those are my best days. For on those days, I am set free from picture perfect motherhood and I find the story of motherhood God is writing for me. It cannot be captured with a lens, for while that is how man sees, it’s not how God sees. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart, and in that, I am gloriously set free. 

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treasuring motherhood when I fail

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I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s that cool of the morning that comes with the beginning of fall,  maybe it’s my middle turning five years old, or maybe it’s the reality of knowing how quickly this life passes, that has me contemplating once again my mothering.

It’s so easy, isn’t it, to try to “judge” ourselves. To ask, “How am I doing?” “Am I treasuring all the moments?” “Am I a good mom?”

I think these questions are good and definitely have a place, but I have also recognized the danger of evaluating myself too much. Because when I do, I feel dreadfully sad.

Surely there were moments I missed, surely there were times I failed, and even when I did it all just right, it’s still going by oh so fast.

I want to figure this out. How do I treasure yesterday, enjoy today, and smile at tomorrow?

I don’t know if I ever will, but I do know this ~ The best way for me to do a better job at anything is not to look too long at myself. Because I will either think too highly of myself or I will plummet by the sheer reality of my own inadequacies.

The apostle Paul, a man of great godliness and boldness evaluated himself like this in 1 Corinthians 4:3-4~

But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by any human court. In fact, I do not even judge myself. For I am not aware of anything against myself, but I am not thereby acquitted. It is the Lord who judges me.

In our society today, we are often told:

Believe in yourself.

It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, just what you think of yourself.

Encouragement is important and I do think our inner thoughts are so vital. But Paul just says something so radically different here. And it has helped me immensely as a mom.

Paul essentialy says, that at the end of the day,

It doesn’t matter what you think of me. And

It doesn’t matter what I think of myself.

Paul knows that his own opinion of himself can be flawed. He could be thinking he’s doing it all right, but his heart is in the wrong place. Or he could be thinking that he’s failing, but God sees something different (1 Sam 16:7).

Processed with VSCO with c1 presetPaul doesn’t look for his stamp of approval from another person or even from himself. He doesn’t value his own opinion. The only opinion of himself that truly matters is God’s.

This is such a transformational truth and one that I want to grab onto with all my heart.

There are so many standards set for us as women and as mothers. We can barely meet our own high standards, much less someone else’s. I’m not saying don’t set them, do! But the moment I think that meeting a standard makes me a good mom, I’ve made motherhood all about me. I’ve declared that my identity is wrapped up in my achievements. And I’ve created a giant obstacle that has my name written all over it.

For in that moment I try to be some perfect mom, I miss out.

I’m not thinking about my kids. I’m not enjoying just knowing them. I’m worried about that thing I didn’t do.

Instead of staying up late to snuggle for a few minutes, I’m worried about that book that says not to do that.

Instead of sending that little cookie in her lunchbox, I’m wondering if another mom will judge me if I do.

Instead of being confident about what I’ve decided to do, I’m second guessing my every move.

Instead of looking up, I’m desperately looking within, and missing what’s right in front of me.

Instead of soaking up all the goodness of everyday moments, I’m letting myself get in the way.

I’m missing the way the breeze is blowing her hair just that way. I’m not thanking God for grubby fingers to scrub. I’m not laying on the floor reading two more chapters of Nancy Drew. I’m not skipping down the sidewalk. I’m not kissing my husband when he walks in the door and treasuring how he spins my little ones in the air in his daddy way. I’m not thanking God that he’s even there to do it.

Processed with VSCO with c1 presetIf I spend my days putting checks in my own boxes, I will miss just knowing my children. I will miss right now.

And if I strive in motherhood for that moment when I feel like I’m a “good” mom, I  will never reach it.

I must believe this. I am not in the courtroom. My mothering is not on trial. Yes, I want to recognize failings, not brush over them, but learn.

But I want to remember, as a mom who has been redeemed by Christ, Jesus went on trial for me. He is my substitute for my ugly failings and He loves me unconditionally.

My identity isn’t wrapped up in being the best mom, whatever that is. It’s not wrapped up in how I lived yesterday or in what I think of myself today.

My identity isn’t even found in motherhood at all. It was declared in a heavenly courtroom by a God who says, “You are my beloved child, in whom I am well pleased.”

I want to value how God has uniquely gifted me and my friends as mothers, and then I want to forget myself, and run to Him. The One who gave me yesterday, holds my tomorrow, and wants me to find joy today.

.

.

. Tim Keller’s The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness was extremely helpful to me in unpacking 1 Corinthians 4 

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satisfaction for the thirsty soul

Processed with VSCO with c1 presetLast week, Grant and I moved halfway across the country from Kentucky to Texas. It’s a move we’ve been planning for the past few months, but still, no matter how much you prepare, there is nothing like actually moving ~ saying goodbye to the places you’ve known and starting fresh all over again. One of the things I have been praying about is how the move would affect our three children. I have wondered if they would miss their old home and friends, if they would cry like I did when I was four and a half and moved from Texas to South Carolina.

 

I was telling a friend this morning just how surprised I’ve been by their stability through the move. Besides having some breakdowns from exhaustion, they’ve been eager and excited for our new home in Texas. AudreyKate even hugged me and said, “Mom, my home is wherever you and Daddy are.”

 

While I was watching the kids play in the pool yesterday I remembered that quiet security I also enjoyed as a child. Home was the little brick house on Bond Street, the rental in Catherine Court, or our home in Seabrook. My soul was satisfied and content in that reality and it was enough.

 

Not everyone experiences that kind of security as a child. And even the most secure children grow up and leave home. But in Scripture we see over and over again that God wants His children to have that kind of security.

 

In Psalm 17, the Psalmist gives a statement of satisfaction that I have been reflecting on the past couple of days. He says this:

 

Men of the world, whose portion is in this life,

Whose belly you fill with your treasure;

They are satisfied with children,

And leave their abundance to babes.

As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness;

I will be satisfied with your likeness when I awake.

 

This passage is pretty straightforward. Those who don’t know the Lord, they find their satisfaction here. Four walls, a roof, a good job, and material success. Providing for their children is enough for them.

 

But the righteous longs for something much, much, more.

 

They know that this world is broken. That life is a vapor. That what our souls need most isn’t food or job security, but more of the Lord.

 

As a mom in the middle of a move, this passage hit home for me in a couple ways.

 

First, I am reminded of the joy I receive from mothering my children. I just love being my kids’ mom. No matter where we are I often just treasure the gift of being with them.

 

But secondly, we also have hard days and moments. My kids aren’t perfect and neither am I. My children bring me great satisfaction but it is not enough. I need something more. My heart needs more. I often find myself tired and at the end of myself.

 

I need a satisfaction that doesn’t depend on my children’s obedience or my feelings. I need a stability and a security like a little child moving across the country but knowing mom and dad are still there.

 

And that’s what God wants to be for me. That’s what He wants to be for those who know Him. The joy of His presence and the knowledge of our security in Him is something He wants us to delight in wherever we are and whatever we are walking through. He whispers it to us through His Word ~ that He’s not just there in the green pastures, but in the dry places too.

 

Isaian 58:11 says

 

And the Lord will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; and you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail.

 

I never want the things in this life to be enough for me. And that’s why it is okay to not be okay because whatever God has given you in this life isn’ supposed to be enough for you, only He is enough for you. 

 

You can take joy and delight in your children because your satisfaction doesn’t begin or end in them. Your home is the walls and roof and God has given you but your true home in Him, your Father, and He will never ever leave you.

 

There is only one well, and his name is Jesus. And when I run to Him as my river of delights, I find that like I child I am satisfied and at home wherever I am because my Father is there.

 

For He has satisfied the thirsty soul, and the hungry soul He has filled with what is good.

 

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Castleberry Hearts are Texas Bound!

IMG_0126.JPGWhat can I say except we are so thankful for this journey of seminary the Lord brought us on! Five years ago we put our home in S.C. on the market, sold half of our belongings, and moved to The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary for Grant to embark on his M.Div.

AudreyKate was just barely a toddler, and I was seven months pregnant with Evangeline. What we didn’t know is that the MDiv would lead to a PhD and that our three years at Southern would expand to five. We have seen God’s faithfulness over and over again these past five years. We have made lifelong friendships we will treasure forever and we feel indebted to the encouragement, support, and spiritual education that Southern has imparted to us. We are just one of many families who has had the privilege of coming in and going out the doors of this seminary into ministry. We are grateful beyond words for those of you who have prayed for us and encouraged us in this journey.

Now that Grant is finished with his residential coursework for his PhD (he still has more studying left) it is with great excitement that we share that he will be joining the pastoral staff at Providence Church in Frisco, Texas! Grant gives the details of our move in his resignation letter to CBMW.

I wanted to share the news here with you – to those who read my blog and have encouraged me through your comments and messages. I plan to keep on sharing what the Lord is teaching me and I am grateful for each one of you.

From my heart,

GraceAnna

Posted on by castleberryhearts · 1 Comment

worth all the crumbs

Processed with VSCO with f2 preset“There are crumbs everywhere!” I texted my friend Amy one morning last week. We had been texting and sharing our current Bible study routines: what we are reading, what God is teaching us, and how we are fitting it in to our lives.

That morning I hadn’t gotten up as early as I would have liked, so I gave my kids a couple packets of breakfast crackers to eat in their room while they “read” books. It’s normally not my practice to allow snacks in the bedrooms, but I needed a few more minutes alone to pray and let God’s Word speak to my heart.

I don’t just want that time each day in God’s Word. I need that time.  I need His strength and His Word. His Word is so deep I always feel like I am barely scratching the surface and yet I know Him better through it. It helps me see my sin and brings me back to His grace over and over again. I want to make His Word more of a priority in my life than I do and I wish I could say that I always chose time with Him above other things.

I texted Amy a picture of my Bible with a quote from Charles Spurgeon that said, “Where there is heaven in the heart there will be heaven in the house.” I had been reading Psalm 37 and studying Spurgeon’s commentary on the Psalm.

As I was closing my Bible and beginning to fix the kids a real breakfast my phone dinged again, “I love that quote. WORTH ALL THE CRUMBS!” she texted back.

FullSizeRender-4I smiled and thought, she is so right. I hadn’t thought about that quote in relation to my home. But it’s so true, God’s word is always worth it. It’s worth washing the sheets later or hauling the vacuum in. It’s worth missing a workout or getting dinner on the table a few minutes later. It’s worth getting up extra early or staying up a little later.

God’s Word is always worth it because your heart is worth it.

Proverbs 4:23 says, “Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life.”

As moms we are often encouraged to have our “me” time, our alone time, our “pamper” time. Or sometimes it’s the expectations we put on ourselves. We want to have it together. We want to do things well, as we should.

But we should never quit guarding our hearts. The Bible says that the heart is like a storehouse (Luke 6:45). It treasures things up. It’s the place the mouth speaks from.

For every person, the heart must be guarded. And as mothers, we care for our children out of our hearts, or what’s left of it. Maybe we are mothering from a weary and anxious heart, a broken heart, or an angry heart. Or maybe we feel like our heart is failing us completely like the Psalmist says in Psalm 73:26.

That is why we must run to Him every single day with our whole heart. Not because we are just trying to “make God a priority,” but because we desperately need Him. Because it’s worth it. And because as Christian mothers we know that our hearts are what set the tone for our homes more than anything else.

Tidy rooms, well-dressed children, dinner on the table right on time, those are all well and good but what are they compared to your heart?

God values it so much He told Martha “only one thing is necessary” (Luke 10:42).

 

God does not ask us to do it all but He does ask us one thing, “Give me your heart, my daughter, and let your eyes delight in my ways.”

I promise you, it’s worth all the crumbs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

*Proverbs 23:26, daughter added

 

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freeing yourself from picture perfect motherhood in an Instagram world

I love being a mom. I love it. I love seeing my friends post on Instagram their joys of motherhood: The baby snuggles, the matching outfits, the days at the zoo, the budget friendly design spaces, and even the messes too. All the little moments they deem “Instagram worthy”.

As much as I enjoy it, there have been times when I have taken a step back from social media for various reasons. At times because I thought it was distracting me, overwhelming me, or I was just too busy.

But through my own journey in this digital age, I have never wanted to be quick to condemn social media just because it sometimes brings out something in me that I don’t like.

I never ever want to miss that there is something to be celebrated about what can sometimes appear to be picture perfect motherhood.

For there is an element of God’s common grace in joyful social media posts.

That mothers around the world find facets of enjoyment in being a mother is a beautiful thing.  Whether it is in a silly face, the first day of school, figuring out how to double French braid or sharing that special thing she did with her kids – that is something to rejoice in.

James 1:17 says:

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”

It is the mark of an others focused person to affirm and embrace not only the fullness of motherhood that God has given you, but the fullness He has also given other mothers.

But there is an emptiness we can feel in motherhood too. I know I have felt it at times. Especially in this digital age where pictures are often staged and perceptions can be skewed. And there is just no way around how images or posts can often make us feel. Because while motherhood is full, it can also be empty.

When all you see is picture perfect, and you are struggling with something, sometimes the easiest thing is to try to bury those feelings or harbor bitterness towards those who have what you don’t.

But what if instead of wallowing in our own emptiness or begrudging others for the good gifts God has given them, what if we stared our emptiness in the face?

What is your emptiness? What is the thing that hurts?

Maybe it’s seeing the mom snuggling her baby which only reminds you of the babies you have lost. Maybe it’s the home you will never have or the toys or baby gear you cannot afford. Or maybe it’s the family vacations that “get you,” or the household orderliness. Or maybe it’s all the things you feel you cannot be. You don’t want to feel this way, but you do. So what do you do?

Do you run away? Do you lash out? Do you stuff it down? Do you miss out on rejoicing with someone else?

As mothers in Christ we must do one thing. We must face it. We must face our empty. We must face the darkness in us.

For it is in our weakness – our emptiness – our nothingness – that God changes us so that He can use us for His purposes.

It is in the moments of the “have nots” that we rediscover all that we have in Him.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is perfected in weakness.” – 2 Cor 12:19

But how can we find the strength to do this? And this is what I have found to be so very helpful: We can embrace the darkness because Christ already did it for us. He suffered for us. He went to the cross for us.

And because of that, we are children of light who do not have to dwell in the darkness. We don’t have to be slaves to our selfish desires or our feelings.

Galatians 5:1 says that Christ has set us free.

While we still struggle with our sinful nature, we do not have to be enslaved to it because our darkness is overshadowed by His glory. We are “being transformed into the same image from glory to glory.” As we focus on Christ and His Word instead of ourselves, He does a work in our hearts, making us more like Him. He sheds His light in the dark parts of us and gives us a joy in Him and a genuine love for others.

Sometimes I wonder how Mary was able to stand at the cross. How was she able to stare the darkness in the face as she watched her Son die? Maybe because she knew He was going to conquer it. Maybe because she remembered what the angel Gabriel had spoken and what the prophets had said. Maybe she believed in the darkness that He was going to make it all better.

And so we stand as mothers who are in Christ. We thank God for our joys in light of His grace and we face our darkness knowing God is molding us and shaping us in the light of His glory. For now we see dimly, but soon we shall see face to face.

“For You light my lamp; The Lord my God illumines my darkness.” Psalm 18:28

Because it is there He wants to meet us. It is that place He is touching and wants to heal. It is His strength He is offering. There in the darkness, we find Him, where we never thought we would. And we realize that social media, or whatever it is, is just another tool God is using to change us. For we are far from picture perfect mothers and we should never try to fit that label. For Christ has set us free, and we are free indeed.

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The Gift in the Goodbye


I lay awake in bed last night thinking about how my oldest just lost her first tooth. I was thinking about it because I hadn’t been thinking about it. I’d barely given it a passing thought when it started wiggling a few weeks back. Things had been busy. I was excited for her though and thought, “How is she old enough for this?” That was all.

But then yesterday, I enjoyed the toothless grin of my five-year-old going on (ever so quickly) six-years-old. And when I lay down to sleep, I thought about that little tooth.

She had been so cranky when it was cutting through when she was just a few months old. But the thing was, I was new at mothering and had no idea that was what was going on. She was fussy. Constantly. I tried everything. One day I put her in the sling and walked four miles in the neighborhood just to keep her from crying. It worked for her but failed to stop my own tears. Then, at just four months, she woke up with a tooth.

Oh. Well that makes sense. My newborn was now an infant. A new stage. And we had made it there together.

Each new stage of motherhood is like that, isn’t it? Sometimes it’s a struggle and yet it arrives either way. And each new stage is a bidding of farewell to something else. In this is both the sorrow and the joy. But each new stage is a gift that couldn’t be received without saying goodbye.

As sentimental as motherhood can be, our children need us to cherish them as they are now as much as we did with their chubby baby cheeks.

And we must not believe that we’ve truly lost something in this. For the love we poured into them then has brought them to this place today.

That happy toothless grin was wrought by both our tears.

But we also must not try to stuff down the pangs of sadness that come with the passing of each stage. There is a deep pain that comes with motherhood that no matter how hard we try we cannot get around. It is part of it. And the embracing of it allows us to experience a deep joy and believe that God is doing something.

Rachel must have felt sorrow as she was slipping out of this life just as her little boy Benjamin was born. We know Jochebed must have felt it when she pushed Moses out into the bulrushes. Out of her control. Out of her hands. Hannah felt it when she let go of her little boy’s hand as she gave him to Eli the priest. Or Mary, we know how that sword pierced her heart from the very beginning unto the end.

Even though our lives differ greatly from these women, surely God gave their stories to help us.

This world. Oh this broken world where we are not even promised tomorrow with our children.

And then the tiny pangs as we watch them grow up right before our eyes. Their babyhood slipping away. So many goodbyes.

But in order for God to use us and them, we must seek the joy in the sorrow. They are intricately interwoven. But joy must win. And it can win because the God we trust made all things right when He let His own Son go. He gave us the most precious Gift in the greatest of all goodbyes. We cannot even identify with the pain the Father felt in turning His back on his Son. But Mary, she was a mother. We can close our eyes and imagine her pain even if we cannot know its fullness.

And we remember how God took care of Rachel’s boys ~ Joseph and Benjamin. God never left them alone. When Jochebed trusted God with her baby in the basket, a nation was brought out of slavery. God used Samuel to bring great repentance to His people and victory over enemies. But what if they hadn’t let go? And that is just the amazing thing. We don’t have to just let go. For Rachel, Jochebed, Hannah, and Mary, they didn’t just let go, they gave them to God in their letting go.

And that is what we must do. As we say goodbye and we feel the pangs of years slipping away, we give our children to God. We give our tears to Him. We are holding on as we let go. We trust the One who created us and our children in the first place.

As mothers who have put their hope in Christ we have a joy in each passing season because we have a Savior.

We don’t know how God will use our children. They may live a quiet life. They may lead a hard life. They may be in the shadows. They may be in the spotlight.

But one thing for sure, we can trust that all the tiny goodbyes along the way are preparing our children for the life God has for them. God uses our tears and trust to build their futures. I don’t know how it all works but that is the amazing thing about God.

The God who spoke the world into existence knows the number of our days. He is growing us up just as He grows them. And He is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory where there are no goodbyes. No more sorrow. No more death. And that is what makes the joy so very great ~ our hope is in Him. And He is the One who can enable us to cherish the gift in every goodbye.

~

Ephesians 3:14-21 

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name, 16 that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; and that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God.

Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen

Posted on by castleberryhearts

Dream Big, My Darling Daughters

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It was Saturday morning and I turned on the Disney channel for my girls to watch Doc McStuffins while I cleaned the kitchen after our slow and sticky breakfast.

I tuned out the noise of their show, until a Disney commercial drew me back in and I leaned over the sink to get the TV in my line of sight.

My little girls were glued as Disney princesses began to dance across the screen and the narrator opened with,

“For every girl who dreams big, there is a princess to show her it’s possible…”

Then the catchy, motivating, inspiring music came on,

You could be the hero

You could get the gold

Breaking all the records they thought, never could be broke

As the song continued, little girls did brave things on the screen: splashing into a lake from a rope swing, hitting the bullseye with a bow & arrow, and diving off the diving board to name just a few.

The music continued,

Do it for your people

Do it for your pride

How you ever gonna know if you never even try?

Do it for your country

Do it for your name

 

Besides the catchy and inspiring tune, there was a lot to like about the message of the commercial. Be strong. Be brave. Try even if it means you fail. Do something for your people. Your country. Your family.

But then the next part is what really hit me.

‘Cause there’s gonna be a day

When your standing in the hall of fame

And the world’s gonna know your name

‘Cause you burn with the brightest flame

And the world’s gonna know your name

And you’ll be on the walls of the hall of fame

I watched my little girls’ faces as the song came to a close, Pocahontas staring off in to the distance, rose petals swirling.

I began to think about what I would say to them. How I would point to the good while denying the message of self-glory that permeated the song?

And that was it – the self-glory – that was what caused an ache deep inside me somewhere.

I want my girls to be strong. I want them to be bold. I don’t want them to be afraid of failure.

But I never, ever want them to believe that their greatest accomplishments are the ones they see in this life. That being famous, popular, or taking the gold is where true happiness is found.

I won’t be sad if they are successful materially or socially in this life. I wan’t them to do what they enjoy and love. But I pray that whatever shoots they grow here in this world, their roots in God’s kingdom are at least twice as deep.

This is where the invisible line is drawn.

Between the girls who grow up to believe that this life holds true happiness and the girls who know that this world is just the shadow.

This of course is the message of God’s kingdom versus the message of the world.

The world says, “Let the world know your name!”

Jesus says, “The meek will inherit the earth (Matthew 5:5).”

The world says, “Be first!”

Jesus says, “The last shall be first and the first last (Matthew 20:16).”

It doesn’t make sense, but it is the gospel.

We bring nothing. He offers everything (2 Kings 5:13-14).

He was born in a manger not a palace. He suffered on a cross instead of bringing a political and military victory. A crown of thorns instead of gold. Buried in another’s  tomb instead of the royal burial He deserved.

He said His way is narrow and not broad (Matthew 7:14).

It is all just so paradoxical.

That living for His glory not our own is what it actually means to invest in the Kingdom.

It all matters so much. The things nobody sees but that are done in the name of Jesus.

The young woman serving on the mission field. The single mom trusting God with her future. The seminary wife living on a tight budget. The mother rocking her baby in the solitude of the night. The daughter caring for an ailing parent. The mom pleading to God on behalf of her wayward child. The woman who serves faithfully week in and week out in her church.

Some of the greatest acts of valor may never be known in this life. But there are women all over the world investing in a kingdom that cannot be seen. Because they love Christ, they have given all they have. They have broken the vial of costly perfume and poured it out on the head of their Savior because they love Him (Mark 14:3).

img_0385-1That is what I want my dear girls to know. That their greatest acts aren’t done in their own strength for their own glory, but for Him. And in those moments, and in this land of the dying, they will find a happiness that cannot be rivaled. It is better than if the whole world were applauding them.

Cause there will be a day, when we are all standing in the true hall of fame. And Jesus will be there – the brightest flame – and we will wonder why we ever wanted to live for our own names. We will forget ourselves and we will thank God for every act of grace He gave us on earth to see beyond the temporal.

So dream big, my darling daughters, because if you are His, He has made it possible. Because you belong to a royal kingdom. And in that kingdom is where the true and happy daughters dwell. And all their dreams come true because they find their beginning and ending in Him.

Posted on by castleberryhearts · 2 Comments

the lady in the green dress and me

I don’t remember exactly how old I was. Maybe nine or ten years old. It was the night of our Christmas musical at church. One of my favorite times of the year.

I was giddy with nervous excitement and as my friends and I gathered in the hall before going on stage to perform, our voices must have gotten a little too boisterous.

Then, SHE came around the corner, clad in a vibrant green dress, her eyes and face as stern as can be.

She got right in my face and let me know just how loud I was being and how much I needed to close my mouth.

Then she was gone.

The tears welled up. I had been so excited. I hadn’t meant to be loud. It had just happened.

I swallowed the tears and in that moment I made a vow. One day when I was grown up, I would never, never, forget what it was like to be a child.

I would never be like that.

It’s been years now since that night in the hallway. Truth be told, I had forgotten all about it.

I grew up. Matured. At least I like to think so.

I have three little hearts under my care now. Day in and day out.

“Use inside voices.” “Don’t run too fast.” “Watch your step.” “Listen to mommy.”

My world is filled with words and phrases of admonition, caution, and instruction.

We were in Chickfila last week and I was wrangling my own crew and I heard her voice again.

No, not the lady in the green dress.

But that same harsh voice, “Get back here, NOW!”

I think the whole restaurant turned to stare at this moment going down with the little disobedient child in tow.

I looked away and my heart shuttered. No, not in condemnation of her, but of myself. That tone, I recognized it. Not just with the lady in the green dress. But me. Not just in a way I may have used before but the echoes of my heart I have heard far too often.

Those moments when as a mother I have been pushed beyond my own capacity and patience.

Those instances when I thought I was handling the situation just right, but oh boy, was I making it worse.

As I watched that little girl in Chickfila, I remembered. I remembered that defeated little girl in the hallway so many years before.

That little girl who vowed to never forget what it was like to see the world as a child. To mess up quite by accident or to willfully disobey. 

There’s no denying it, being a mother is hard. It rattles my self-sufficiency. It exposes my self-centeredness. It takes all of me and then some more.

But I never want to forget that the work I do is much more significant than I usually think it is.

I work with little hearts every day. Precious hearts. Sinful hearts. Sensitive and immature hearts.

My voice resonates. It means something. At least it should.

I am called to speak with authority. To demand obedience (Proverbs 19:18). To teach and train. But I also am called to not provoke to anger (Col 3:21). To set an example, as an overseer shepherds his flock (1 Peter 5:3).

It doesn’t mean I will be perfect or that my children’s spiritual state depends on me. Or that I should speak in a sing-song or baby voice.

But I am nurturing souls. And I don’t want to forget that. My words echo beyond the confines of the kitchen, or the nursery, to the chambers of tiny hearts and minds.

I have been studying the books of Matthew and Mark this fall and I am amazed at how Jesus deals with his disciples.

So often, they just didn’t get it.

But He had compassion on them. He used parables to explain things. He went beyond the external circumstances straight to their hearts. He didn’t ignore sin (quite the opposite) or sugarcoat the truth, but He loved and cared for their souls.

And when I think of how the Lord has dealt with me, I am overwhelmed. I can say Isaiah 40:11 has been true in my own life.

He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.

I know I will have hard days with my kids in the future as their sin natures get tangled up in mine.

But I have something that they yet do not have. His tender grace met me. He sought me, His voice of grace came to me through His Word when I was going the other way.

I pray, that as I interact with my children, that, THAT, is what I will never forget. Because the lady in the green dress is not the problem. I am. And I will fail. But His grace is sufficient and it is greater.  

And I pray that God will give me the grace to use my voice to build up and not tear down. To speak with wisdom and kindness. To call out sin and be stern when I need to be. But to always remember His grace in all my moments of my failing as well as theirs. And that one day, they will hear His voice louder than all the rest.