My writing timeline for the next two years reveals a lot of words that need to fall to the page. Words about mothering, raising boys, prayer, and giving hope. We start a new homeschool year at the McGlothlin Home for Boys tomorrow. A year of soul-pouring, teaching, and practicing patience with little learners.
And I've set a goal for myself to be more intentional with life this year...less tossed to and fro by the winds of loss, and more grounded in what I know is true.
But I do wonder...
What in the world have I done that makes me the person to write these words, pour into these boys, stand on what is true?
So many good things are on my to-do list these days. I'm living a life I love, doing the work I've prayed for the opportunity to do, and using my gifts and talents in a way that brings me such incredible joy. But sometimes I still wonder if God knows who He's dealing with.
I knelt at the altar today and told the Lord He needed to remember how little I bring to the table. I think He smiled a crooked smile as I told Him about my average-sized platform (you know...the one that won't catapult a book directly to the best-seller list?), my messy (at times) house, my intense desire to get up insanely early to work, but inability to do it (yet).
I reminded him that my boys are just boys, and that no matter how many copies of Warrior Prayers He's sold, and no matter what happens with that message, my boys are just regular old disobedient children who need a Savior just as much as their mama does.
I opened my hands in surrender as I counted the number of times I've preached a good blog sermon, but failed to make it happen at home. And I handed over the education of my children, knowing that in the end, whether we homeschool or don't, their future is in His hands.
I feel totally unprepared for the battle that's coming this year. And I'm not sure why God has chosen me to fight it–in all my average, messy, unorganized glory...
My only battle equipment consists of prayer and a willing heart. But maybe that's all that's required?
Slingshots, arrows and spears
Joshua and the Israelites marched around the city of Jericho with nothing more than trumpets, and maybe some slingshots, arrows, and spears (Joshua 5). The wall that stood between them and the promise of God must have looked like an enemy far too big for their measly weapons.
But their hearts were filled with faith in God, and as it turns out, that's all they really needed.
Their faith inspires me to do my own circling of sorts—around my upcoming book launches, around our new homeschool year, around friends and family who are hurting, situations that rest out of my control—my circling happens in prayer.
And I know this:
There will be times when we feel like Joshua at the battle of Jericho. Our weapons of warfare may fall sadly short of what we think is needed to win the war. But God hasn't asked us to win. He's only asked us to be faithful in the battle.
So I circle the walls and ask God to make them fall.
For the mamas who need Hope.
For God to help me produce a joyful place for my sons to learn.
For all the words that will fall on the page.
And God's crooked smile? I think that's Him reminding me that He often chooses the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and the weak to shame the strong (1 Cor 1:27).
If so, I'm positioned right where He needs me.
"Lord, make something of all this that makes You look good. Use all of my weaknesses to give Yourself glory. Use my mess, and the way You've been so faithful to meet me in it, to bring another mama hope that You can do the same for her."