My Good God Who Loves Me

About 3 weeks ago, I was home alone, and I was confronted with my deeply-seated, soul-ingrained desire for a husband. It wasn’t like my heart longed; it was like my soul ached, and I cried out to God with only groans.

For about 3 years, I’ve confronted all the ways and reasons I desire a man. I’ve written post after post after post, and they mostly follow the format: Desire – reason for desire – reason I’m believing a lie – truth – Gospel truth – Yay Jesus.

So on this particular day, I confronted my desire for a husband. I didn’t even know why I wanted one so badly; it took me a few minutes of talking to God to figure it out.

I finally realized, though, that I felt like my life wouldn’t begin until I had a husband.

Obviously, this is a lie. Obviously, I have a life (and a great one). But this lie was different; it refused to be covered up by slapping a few Gospel bumper-stickers on it or rooted up by throwing a couple of Bible verses at it. I deeply, deeply, for years – maybe even decades – had been believing this subtle lie that my life will begin when I’m married. It’s been embedded in the depths of my soul and woven into the fabric of my unconsciousness for as long as I can remember. So it took some major processing, praying, and digging to combat it with the truth. Read More

My Little Sister

I have a little sister who always lives my dreams. Sometimes it feels like God gave her to 9-year-old me just so we could grow up and she could show me my dream-come-true life.

She started traveling internationally at 15 years old. She lived in Chicago for a while during college. She got a boyfriend at 18, a fiancé and a walk-in closet at 19, and a husband at 20. Now at 22, she’s having the first grandkid for my parents and the first nephew/niece for the rest of us. This past Monday, she texted me that she’s probably going to decorate her nursery with a book theme. Like seriously?! Are NONE of my dreams sacred?

I’m overreacting of course; I really am happy for her. She’s one of the most genuinely, effortlessly compassionate people I’ve ever met, and she is living the story that God wrote for her before either of us was born.

I get into a funk every once in a while, though, because – I might as well say it – it kind of sucks sometimes to not only not see my dreams come true, Read More

My Grateful Attitude

When I was little, my mom wouldn’t let me complain about things. She would redirect my complaining energy into thankful energy.

“Mom, my sister won’t clean her side of the room.” – “Thank Jesus that you have a sister. And stuff. And a room. A lot of little girls aren’t that blessed.”

“Do I have to eat squash agaaaaaaain?” – “Thank God you have food, honey. And a mom to cook it for you. If you don’t like it, you can make dinner tomorrow.”

“My feet hurt from walking around all day at Disneyland!” – “Aren’t you so glad you got to come to Disneyland? Remember all those rides you go to go on? We need to say thank you to Jesus for letting us come and to your grandparents for paying for our tickets.”

Whenever I didn’t know what to pray for during family prayer times, my parents would say, “Just tell God what you’re thankful for.”

It worked. Read More

My Bed of Self-Pity

I came home from work, gave my mom a kiss hello, headed to the basement, kicked off my heels, and flopped down on my pink bed in my pink room – the quintessential picture of someone torn between girlhood and adulthood.

I was 28 years old.

In the closest thing I’ve ever experienced to teenage angst, I called out to God, “My life tooooootaaaaalllllllyyyyyy suuuuuuucks! <sob> I just don’t know why-y-y-y-y! <hiccup>”

I’d moved with my parents to Minnesota about 11 months earlier, and it was getting rather old to have to follow the same rules as my 11-year-old brother while living with my parents.

“God, I hate it here!” I sobbed and Read More