In one fell swoop, I lost HOME. The rug was pulled from my feet and I felt like a wanderer in the world. My husband had become my home in many ways, and his leaving turned everything upside down.

This is a table of abundance. My life is not a picture of scarcity and lack. I have been treated lavishly by my Generous Host. He has invited me to a feast. The psalmist uses language of extravagance here. What a beautiful picture of the grace we’ve been shown in God’s welcome!

Empty arms almost always lead me to turn my eyes to Jesus. It is typically our lack that drives us to his side, not our plenty. My unmet desires spur me to ask the question: is Jesus really enough?

I sat alone in an elementary school parking lot on Mother’s Day. 

I didn’t get a break, flowers, or a nice breakfast in bed. What I did receive, was a loving text from my small group leader, lamenting with me over the state of my marriage. She gave me what my soul was actually craving. She offered me gospel truth and encouragement.  She reminded me that Mother’s Day is first, and foremost, the Lord’s Day. I am commanded to rejoice in Jesus, regardless if someone else is celebrating me. This wise saint helped me look upward to the cross and take my eyes off myself. 

Here at Restored Home, we are connecting with women every week who are walking the lonely road of marital betrayal, abandonment and unwanted divorce. This community is growing—and that is both devastating and beautiful.Many of these women are also single moms. They are parenting alone in really difficult circumstances. And this Mother’s Day, we want to bless them. But we need your help!

The wrong man gave me flowers.

But those flowers brought healing and ushered in a new chapter.

Ok, here’s the thing. If I read about God, who sees and looks after me, and walk away thinking *I* must be someone pretty incredible and special, my worship is misplaced. 

If the end result of a God who looks on and after us, is a more puffed-up version of ourselves and self-importance, then we are getting things backwards. 

Because Jesus was willing to bear the weight of his Father’s turned-away face, we are now looked upon, seen, known, pursued, adopted, invited and welcomed in. Through Christ, God sees us. And more than that, He acts–He reaches down and draws us near. 

Tears burned my eyes. I was angry and desperately sad. How does a father abandon his family? It feels like the very worst of crimes. My mind raced as jumbled prayers spilled from my mouth. “Lord, will my daughters survive this breaking of our home? How will they come to understand that you are so very different? Can they separate in their hearts a father who leaves and a Father who stays?”  ** READ THE FULL ARTICLE ON RISEN MOTHERHOOD…

There is something sacred about Saturday’s stillness in the passion account.

The disciples didn’t have eyes to see that hope was brimming under the surface. They were full of grief and despair, longing and fear.

But we are of those who see the dawn of Sunday. And yet, here we sit: BETWEEN.

As I worked through the paperwork, tears streaming down my face, I wrote the date and all of a sudden realised that it was Good Friday. The darkest day in the history of the world—the Son of Man, slain for the sins of the world. His body broken and bruised, poured out as an offering. I lifted my heart up to Jesus in that waiting room and felt His presence so strongly in that room.

He had died for this very moment.

I beg You to look down at me- at the losses and broken places, the grief and the ache and say enough.

ENOUGH.

I beg You to say it.

Blow the whistle.

Call for a Season of Rest.

God, do you want to walk away too?

Am I easy to leave? Easy to replace?

Will you always be here, or does our relationship have an expiration date?

Where are you when the chair beside me is empty?

When we are not heard, we begin to believe that there is no reason to speak. We retreat further and further inward and in time, lose ourselves completely. I know this shame far too well. It’s my marriage story and it’s a painful one.

When "love" breaks your heart and walks away it's hard to trust that God's love is any different. When love feels only broken and shaky, look to the cross of Jesus and see, remember and meditate on a Love that has not, will not, could not end. Take note of the differences and remember, real Love NEVER fails.

David cries out in Psalm 13, “How long Lord?”

Four times we hear this same plea. Do you think his cries got louder and angrier with each “how long”?

Maybe I’m just projecting my own angst onto his words…

"Lament is prayer in pain that leads to trust…”

Mark Vroegop in Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy

Lent just seems like the right time to admit that everything feels a bit broken. It seems like the perfect time to remind ourselves that while, yes, everything is dark and shattered, IT WILL NOT ALWAYS BE SO.

Join us as we learn to welcome biblical lament into our lives. We pray it stirs up fresh, raw hope within you in the days to come.

6 years after Mom died, my world completely shattered again as my husband’s unfaithfulness came to light. I walked through horrific betrayal, abandonment and unwanted divorce. My life, my home, and my heart were impossibly broken.

There have been many days over the last 6 years where I have questioned God’s goodness in my Mom’s homegoing. My pain has been so immense as I’ve walked through the darkest days of my own life.

Jesus loves me this I know (but do I believe it?)

Does His love reach even to me? The UNLOVED one? If one man has chosen to stop loving, could it mean God has chosen the same? Do you see the darkness creeping at the edges?