Dare to Love His Weakness

Dare to Love His Weakness

A few weeks ago I was sorting through one of those huge piles of miscellaneous papers - that had grown wildly out of control and I’d hidden away in the corner of a closet.  Kids’ artwork, letters and cards, photos, articles, bill statements, random notes - you name it, it was in there. Lots of junk to be tossed, but countless jewels to be treasured too - I just dreaded the task of going through it all. As I did, I found a little piece of paper upon which I had scribbled down this quote…

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His New Wife

His New Wife

Give my husband a new wife, and let it be me.

I read that line again. Then I closed the book and set it aside. My stomach was in knots.

I first prayed these powerful words two years ago. I had chosen The Power of a Praying Wife by Stormie Omartian as my book to focus on during Lent. Of the thirty one chapters and all the prayers contained in that book, it was the first chapter that wrecked me. The chapter entitled His Wife.

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You Alone

You Alone

I met my husband in a bar after work. His tie loosened, rocking some trendy aviator sunglasses, there was no way not to notice him. Oh, and that smile and those dimples. Wait. Was he wearing Old Navy flip flops with dress slacks?!

Yes. Yes, he was. And I married that man a year later--Old Navy flip flops and all!

Ok, so the bar we met in was actually at a church gathering called Theology on Tap. (and BTW this was not a singles group!) But depending on who’s asking, I might say I met Chris in a bar, or through church... both of which are true! ...

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Freedom from the Lies

Freedom from the Lies

“Mommy, sometimes I hear these voices in my head, and I can’t get them out. I just wish they would go away! Please mom, can you make them stop?!”

These are the real words, cried out in tears, from one of my daughters. Not just once, but several times. I’m SO THANKFUL I’ve had the courage to be real with myself and with God about my own voices; the lies on the tape that play in my own head.  Because otherwise I would have been lost, with no idea how to help my child.

I pray you can be real about this too.  I pray you will have the courage to fight for the freedom God wants you to have from these lies, so that you can teach your precious children how to do the same...

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Real Girls Aren't Perfect

Real Girls Aren't Perfect

“Real girls aren’t perfect; perfect girls aren’t real.”  - Barbie

About five years ago, I found these words written with a dry erase marker on my daughter’s bathroom mirror. She was in middle school at the time.  I was shocked.

My first thought was, Barbie really said that? Miss Perfect herself? Who knew she had it in her!

My second thought was, My daughter wrote this on her mirror?  Written out in her fun, girly handwriting, those words spoke volumes to me about what she was wrestling with inside.  And I found a sense of relief and peace knowing she had staked herself in this truth - enough to write it on her mirror, where she would see it every day. It stayed there for months...

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No Flaw in Me

No Flaw in Me

“You are altogether beautiful; and there is no flaw in you.”  Song of Song 4:7

Up until a few years ago, I had never heard this scripture.  Now I cling to it; not just for me, but for the husband and children I love and fight for. 

When I first stumbled upon these words from Song of Songs, I was so intrigued. I felt like I had discovered a precious jewel.  And just like you might hold a jewel in your hands, mesmerized by its beauty and brilliance, I held these words in my heart – captivated by what they might mean for me…

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Know Who You Are (Not)

Know Who You Are (Not)

“It will be so great and really easy! All you have to do is fill 8 (gallon sized) ziplock bags with 20 pieces of dried macaroni in each bag… then cut 10 inches of yarn... kids can string these pieces onto the yarn… so important for their fine motor skills… and then we exchange them… It’s like a cookie exchange only we swap crafts instead of cookies!” she exclaimed.

I was sweating in my yoga pants as my friend told me about these “busy bags.” My blood pressure rises when another mom uses the words easy and crafts in the same sentence. There was a time in my early early mom years that I thought I needed to do all the things--all the crafts, games, story times, tumble classes, play dates, etc. What is wrong with me? Why can’t you be like that mom over there?

I still remember that conversation with my friend. At the time, I was too insecure to share with her that A) I didn’t want to craft with my kid and B) I didn’t know how to...

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Mama, will you pray for me?

Mama, will you pray for me?

One afternoon when she was rebelling against naps, my five-year-old cleverly snuck downstairs like a tiny ninja while I was having my own quiet (prayer) time. She carefully maneuvered herself around furniture and tiny toy obstacles until inch by inch she wound up curled in my lap.

I think she was curious as to what her mama was doing while we spent an entire hour apart each afternoon. After a few days of this, I began inviting her to sit with me - if she promised to be quiet and still. Soon it became her way of spending extra time with me. “Will you read your blue prayer book to me?” she’d ask...

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When I Lost My Spiritual Voice

When I Lost My Spiritual Voice

I sit down and open my Bible, I read some passages. I close my eyes to pray. Woah. Did I just fall asleep? Better keep my eyes open. I reach for my journal and then remember I had wanted to light a candle. Wait. Where is the lighter? Bzzzzz. The laundry is done. Ok, I am (still) going to pray - I’ll just fold laundry at the same time. Mrrrr. Text message. Ugh. I’ve gotta check it, my friend was going to text me if she needed me to pick up her kid after school. “Mama?” Shoot! How is he awake already? Beep beep beep. Dang, that’s my timer reminding me my 10 minutes of intentional prayer time is over...

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My Invitation

My Invitation

My personal story of the Mother’s Prayer Companion began when my third baby was born. I was in a postpartum haze, but I can still remember the day Jenny Klement first told me about what she had created. A friend and I were at Jenny’s house for a family brunch. There Jenny sat - on the bottom step of her stairs, with my friend and I literally sitting on the floor at her feet, and our crawling babies and busy toddlers climbing on top of us.

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