Growing a mustard seed kind of faith, always and only, because of Him.Kids can be brave, just like adults, especially as they embrace the plan God has for their lives. Growing my brave, one step at a time.Īnd so I will keep stepping and I pray you will too. Or when I feel, for a moment, as if I might have, He seems to have another one waiting for me. That weakness that lies right in front us. His power is made perfect in my weakness. More than the shaking, the sweating, the turning in my stomach, even in the reality of all that, I know and believe Truth. Romans 8:37įor God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and of a sound mind. We are more than conquerers through Him who loved us. The same power that rose Jesus from the dead dwells in me. I’m living scared, fully aware of my weakness.īut somehow, amidst the shakiness, amidst the fear that feels crippling and makes me want to feign the bird flu or a rare and contagious disease, I am aware that the words that I write and speak are the words I need as much as (more than?) anyone else. I’ve mastered nothing, crossed no threshold. How could I possibly understand anything of being brave when people fight Goliaths ten time taller than mine?Īnd the fear is real. Because, I’m only a stay at home mom of four kids, you know. The lies I don’t want you to believe are screaming loud. Probably the biggest crowd I’ve ever spoken to.Īnd the things I want to speak about are fighting me big. Not a mega-church by any stretch, but quite sizable for where I live. And, dear God, I may never be able to write the words, because can I tell you this is hard? So, so hard at times. Because real life is messy.Īnd then I feel called to write about courage and brave. If you come to my house for dinner I can guarantee the floors and counters, the bathrooms and windows will look like they do only 5% of the time. My kids wake up all bed head and crusty eyes and I shine them up before we run to town.
I don’t always (ever?) like to show off my messy. When we are in the throws of learning, it’s often messy. I like that mental note, prefer it actually. While I wasn’t yet writing at the time, I remember making a mental note – don’t write about it until you are sure you’ve got the strategy figured out, until you have crossed the threshold. They discuss how their strategies and convictions in regards to food have shifted and changed a bit.
In the beginning of the book the authors talk about the different eating plans and models they have followed throughout the years. But that has nothing to do with anything.) (Little known fact, I have a part time job as a diet coach and occasionally read diet books in my spare time. I once read a book called Trim Healthy Mama. You couldn’t shed light until you crossed the threshold and arrived on the other side. You had to live them before you could write or talk about them.
I used to believe you had to go through things before you could fully understand them.
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