how the light gets in

Tag: How the Light Gets In

• Tears, smiles, all of the above

  Posted at 2:29 pm by How the Light Gets In, on September 5, 2018

  I just dropped Bean off for Kindergarten.  To be clear, she’ll be there for 2 and half hours today, but still… I get in the car and stupid Macklemore is singing “Good Old Days.”  The chorus is on; “Someday all of this is gonna change, you’ll miss the magic of these good old days.”  Gotcha, thanks for the stab to the heart.

  Radio is now turned OFF and I have to decide. What will my first child-free errand of 2018-19 be? Grauls.  For those of you not in the Baltimore area, Grauls is a small chain of family-owned grocery stores.  Friendly customer service, beautiful food; it’s all there.  But it’s Grauls BUTTERCREAM frosting that may make even the angels sing.  It is so good.  So good, in fact, that Grauls sells their buttercream by the tub.  I’ll stop with the buttercream.  My point is.  Wait.  I’m so distracted now.  I pick up the donuts for tomorrows bus stop send off.  I buy myself flowers and I head home.  I choose to sit and enjoy this first present; gift of quiet. I sit and I write.

  Because I have 5 children does NOT mean I am an expert on all child related things.

  Having 5 kids means it’s louder, the grocery bill is higher and the calendar is beyond.

  Also, Lily being the 5th and last Smithberger to go through Pinewood doesn’t make it easier.

  There are more layers this time.  My heart feels like all the characters from “Inside Out” are battling for the control board of my emotions.

  

  What am I supposed to do? Do I do cartwheels for my new found “freedom”?  Do I cry because my sweetest surprise baby is old enough to leave? Do I swell with pride because she is confident enough to walk away without even so much as a wave? Do I avoid eye contact with anyone offering a smile of encouragement?

  I don’t want to freeze time but then again, maybe I do.

  I adore going into Lauren’s room after everyone has fallen asleep to catch up on her life. I love being Luci’s sous chef and soaking up her freckles while she reads off the ingredients we’ll need.  Joseph loves snuggling but his growing feet are a sure sign that he’ll be too big for that before we know it. I offer to drive and pick up John to wherever he’s going because side by side car conversations are the best.

  The truth is, it’s not just Lily.  This school year brings a new shift in our family dynamic. Lauren is in 11th grade and talking about visiting potential colleges.  John is in 8th grade and asking to shadow at potential high schools.  Luci just started middle school.  Joseph is in 4th grade.  Lily is in Kindergarten.  And Mommy has some time to consider Andrea.

  All the feels, all the emojis, all at once.

  I’m no expert but I can say I feel like it’s all the good old days.  There’s more magic to come.  Hooray to all of us going through all the feels.  And Hooray because I did NOT pick up the tub of Grauls buttercream this time.

  Posted in SEPTEMBER 2018 | 0 Comments | Tagged Good Old Days, How the Light Gets In, Inside Out, Kindergarten

• Dear Barb,

  Posted at 8:57 am by How the Light Gets In, on August 27, 2018

  I can’t even get caught up in the “WHY did we just have this year and now you’re leaving” discussion.  I can’t because you are a treasure and I am grateful for any and all time we’ve had.  And we jumped into our friendship, both feet, all in.  Didn’t we? Full “this is my story” talks, hair cuts, pancakes, Enneagram discussion, many small-child-interrupted visits… I am a solid 21 years older than you girl. And yet, we good.

  God is the coolest, right? That he would bring us together right at this time! I love that we can talk about the hard, what I’ve learned, what you’re learning and we can LEARN together.

  Let’s get to this England deal.  You’re off on a year-long internship in the UK on ministry. I could not be more excited and proud for you.

  Before you go, I need to be a “2” and gush over you. You are so many things to so many people here Barb.  Maybe that’s the “8” in you…

  

  You are charismatic and encouraging, yes.  You have enormous willpower and vitality, yes. And you have left your mark, yes.

  But you are so much more than an “8” – Because God smiled giving you the roundest brown eyes and the cutest nose.  Because God fashioned you with a determined spirit. Because Jesus lives in your heart.

  This internship is such a unique opportunity.  Here, in Baltimore, your roles are too many to name.  You have so many jobs (SO many jobs), you’re also Young Life leader and a friend and a daughter. All of these commitments ask a lot of you and you give them all 100%.

  100%.

  This, Barb, is your chance to release all those responsibilities and focus on ONE task; allow God to focus on you 100%.  Breathe. Give yourself time to adjust. You will have new rhythms, new faces, new coffee places, same God.

  I will miss you. Lauren will miss you. I won’t even go there.

  Te quiero mucho,

  Andrea

   

  Posted in AUGUST 2018 | 1 Comment | Tagged Barb, enneagram, How the Light Gets In

• Big and Church-y

  Posted at 4:12 pm by How the Light Gets In, on August 10, 2018

   

  Three big church-y words have been swirling in my head; Redemption, Covenant and Build an Altar.  Told you they were big and church-y.  Let’s take a breath.

  I am NO bible scholar. Nor am I a word scholar.  However, I love God and I love words so this is my take on the big and church-y terms.  As I see it, Redemption is a big rescue. According to my understanding, Covenant is a rock-solid promise.  And Build an Altar is what THE main characters in THE oldest, MOST epic bible stories would do to show appreciation to God.  And they did it over and over.

  These words are swirling in my head for a reason and I’ve got to get it out.

  Sunday afternoon, I was melting in the heavy August heat in the bleachers watching my boy.  Joseph is trying out for a club lacrosse team.  Let’s “build an altar” right there.  And by that I mean, let me stop to acknowledge something really good and say ‘Thank you God.’

  There are dozens of 9-year-old boys out here, weighted down by pads bigger than they are, their helmets bobbing across the turf.  And I’ve got my eye on #95.  I’m doing the best I can to not let the tears fall but come on.

  We have to build the altar here because Joseph is bulldozing kids, sprinting, giving it his all to earn a spot on this lacrosse team.  And we prepped this kid before going out.  A handwritten note of encouragement from Luci.  A pep talk from Lauren.  Hugs from Bean. A last-minute gear adjustment from John.  Lots of kisses from Mommy and a big squeeze from Daddy.

  Were you with us last year?

  Because August of last year, Joseph was getting handwritten notes, pep talks, lots of hugs and kisses from us all for a very different battle.  “You’ve got this, Joseph!” had a very different meaning behind it last year.  That kid would be going into The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia for a spinal tap, blood work and MRI to determine if he had Pediatric MS or a sneaky kind of cancer in his spinal cord.

  That right there, friends, is what I call redemption.  Joseph has a big rescue story in his life and he’s only 9.  While I will never understand why we got his miracle; I do know I will never be able to say “thank you God” enough.

  Will Joseph make the team?  I don’t know.  Honestly, I don’t care. I have witnessed God in Joseph’s life.  I have witnessed God showing Joseph is covenant to him; God’s concrete vow to faithfully love and protect and answer him.  Right now, this keyboard is my altar.

  There’s more… always.

  I was watching Lily get her ‘pack-cack’ ready for Kindergarten when it dawned on me. Lily, with her round eyes and non-stop chatter and soft brown hair, is an exquisite picture of another one of God’s overwhelming rescues in my life.  Valentine’s Day weekend of 2003, I woke up to a doctor telling me the surgery had gone ok but there was a lot of internal damage from the hemorrhaging and that she was sorry but “I would never have children again.”  You’ve heard that part before. BUT, did you know, do you realize that ten years later…

  Lily Amaris Smithberger was born on February 15, 2013.

  That’s ten years, to the very weekend, that my 5th child was born.  Why hadn’t this hit me sooner?  Maybe God needed me to be a little slow on appreciating that detail.  Just slow enough so that at the right time, in God’s time, He could use our precious girl to remind me, encourage me, push me to remember God is real.  God is good. God is on my side.

  Ten years passed between that doctor’s harsh sentence and God’s gift.

  That’s more than 3,650 days.  And in that time there were even more miscarriages, the birth of three healthy babies and the loss of our niece. Ten long years.

  What do some of your redemption stories look like?  Have you been a little slow, like me, to tie the details together?

  Look for them.  They are a treasure worth discovering and holding onto.  Those gifts of a promise kept, of a love bigger than you could ever dream are worth seeking, finding and relishing. Finding those gifts NOW is key for moving me forward.  Understanding God sees me overwhelms me. It gives me something no medicine, no exercise, no person, no wine can provide. God’s commitment to ME gives me hope.

  And I need it right now.  My pain is mean, attacking for no reason and for every reason.  I was letting the pain bring me down. But then, my therapist reminded me, “a doctor also told you you’d never have any more babies.”  ohhhhh…  Isn’t she good?

  More than one doctor has told me I will have this pain for the rest of my life.  But doctors have been wrong before. And I believe God put the spotlight on these beautiful redemption gifts in my life to highlight His covenant with me.

  God’s promise is bigger than a doctor’s diagnosis.

  •this is where my Southern friends say “Amen”•

  God’s commitment is stronger than any heartbreak.

  •Amen•

  God’s vow to stick beside you is thicker than your deepest fears.

  •Amen•

  Finding the redemption stories in your life, seeing the covenant God is trying to offer you, then building an altar; that’s the faith journey. That faith, put into practice turns into hope.

  My eyes are open.

  And I can’t wait to see what happens next.

  Posted in AUGUST 2018 | 1 Comment | Tagged Build an Altar, Covenant, How the Light Gets In, Redemption

• Banana Butt

  Posted at 7:48 pm by How the Light Gets In, on August 2, 2018

  “Banana Butt” is this annoying game the kids play on the road.  We’re running errands and as soon one of them sees a yellow car, that kid yells out “Banana Butt No Slapbacks” and smacks the other kids around them.  This game is nothing but intelligence and joy in its purest form, obviously.

  

  When we first started playing the game, I didn’t think we would find any yellow cars. Oh banana butt, was I wrong! There are a lot of yellow cars out there!  How did I never notice them before? Yellow cars.  Truly, how?

  

  Now, ofcourse, even when the kids are NOT in the car; I can’t help but spot the yellow cars, blurt “Banana Butt” to myself and roll my eyes.

  Funny how that works. You don’t notice something until you look for it.  Hmmmm…

  God is trying to get your attention all the time.  Do you know that?  I believe with my whole heart that God is speaking to all of us. Are you noticing?  Let’s be clear, I am not saying God looks like a yellow car.  However, let’s also try not to limit God to a deep voice coming out of puffy clouds, with beams of light or that He only speaks in church or that He only speaks to Christians.  God is bigger than that.   God knows you better than that.  God is WAY more creative than that.

  Let’s look at me.  I’m just Andrea doing my thing in Maryland.  But God sees me and tries to grab my attention.  And I LOVE LOOKING for Him.

  Here’s an example. I love writing. We all know this. I’ve always wanted to write a book.  And, God knows this because I tell Him.  When I saw the “She Speaks” Writers Conference come up, I really wanted to be a part of it.  I prayed about it and asked God to show me if I should go.  I opened my bible up to Jeremiah 30:2 “This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘Write in a book all the words I have spoken to you.'” Banana Butt.

  

  Getting ready to leave, I was anxious about driving the 7 hours because of all the rain and flooding we’ve had.  The entire trip was nothing but blue skies and an open sunroof.  Are you seeing this?

  

  Then just to spoil me, God sets the table with beautiful flowers and even more beautiful new friends.  I see you God. I drove 7 hours away from my family to pursue a calling I feel on my heart and God was just cheering me on the whole time.  And I was clearly excited about it in this picture.

  

  The kicker was after one dinner I was hoping for a treat (because I have a sweet tooth or 2).  I got up to leave and just outside the meeting room was a platter of these.

  

  Please zoom in on the chocolate chunks to appreciate how well God sees me. Amen?

  Jeremiah 29:13 says, “You will seek me and FIND me when you seek me with all your heart.”  

  You are going to find what you are actively looking for, period.

  So, look for God.

  Let him surprise you in the most delicious, beautiful, cozy, quiet, loud, tailored-to-you ways.

  

  Banana Butt No Slapbacks

  Posted in AUGUST 2018 | 2 Comments | Tagged banana butt, How the Light Gets In, Jeremiah 29:13, Jeremiah 30:2, She Speaks

• Wilderness Notes

  Posted at 10:05 pm by How the Light Gets In, on July 15, 2018

  As soon as I found out I was pregnant with a boy (NOT NOW people, this is back in 2004), I began searching for a name with meaning.  His name would need to really mean something.  It just had to be special.

  And we chose, John.  John means “God has been gracious.”  As soon as that 9 pound boy was in my arms, I could feel the weight of his name and everything he meant in every ounce.

  Here’s the quick backstory:  I lost one baby in 2001.  I gave birth to our beautiful Lauren in 2002. In the years after, I would have three more miscarriages.  One of those pregnancies was an ectopic that ruptured and almost took me with it.  I woke up from that surgery with the doctor at the end of my bed telling me, “You’re lucky you made it and you’re lucky you have one child.  You will not be able to have any more kids.”

  There’s so much pain in that handful of sentences; mourning and bleeding and darkness on repeat.  The “no more kids” was a kick in the gut I will never forget.  Finding out I was pregnant and then growing that boy inside me felt like the longest 9 months. So, his name needed to be special. I wanted it to be a reflection and reminder of the gift.

  It’s important to celebrate the good stuff.  I have a golden Hooray banner for that, remember?

  I’ve come to believe that you need to mark the hard stuff.  It is just as important to stick a flag in the ground where you’ve struggled to say VICTORY or HOLY SH– or NEVER AGAIN!

  “It’s worth noting that at the culmination of nearly every wilderness journey is a naming.”  It’s important to “name each wilderness, to mark those spots where, when all hope seemed lost, we encountered God.”  Good, right?

  I read this and underlined it immediately on page 50 of “Inspired: Slaying Giants, Walking on Water and Loving the Bible again” by Rachel Held Evans.  This book should be in your Amazon cart, now.  I would lend you my copy but there are lines and scribbled notes all over it.

  The last time I wrote here I was getting past my anger and trying to move into ownership of my body and my pain.  Gosh, that is soooooo much easier to type than actually DO. Something my therapist suggested is acknowledge the pain when it starts to creep back.  Face it, call it out, breathe through it and stretch.  My usual reaction to the pain was get sad, angry, curl up on the couch and take the Gabapentin.

  Working through the pain has felt like a “wilderness” to me, has meant honesty to see it, humility to face it, strength to stare it down, endurance to breathe through it.  And I’m doing it.  And I haven’t taken ONE Gabapentin since I last wrote 49 days ago.

  In the past 49 days, I have gone to camp with middle schoolers and run all over doing selfie scavenger hunts to late night pizza parties, I’ve been to the beach jumping in the waves with all FIVE of my kids, I’ve been hiking with friends, I’ve hosted a few big family events; and not taken one Gabapentin.  I need a flag with a good name on it and I want to stick it in the ground.

  Because I am a human and you are too, I know we have pain in common.

  What does your wilderness look like?  

  You have a flag in your hand because God put it there.  

  He wants to see you out.  

  “Forget the former things, do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!  Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?  I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” – Isaiah 43:18-19

  Here’s my version:

  Come on! Why are you looking back?  Don’t get stuck!

  Name your pain.  And let’s get moving!

  God doesn’t want you hurting.

  And He doesn’t just want to make some old crap better.  God wants to make something TOTALLY new.

  Don’t you see it?  He’s making a way in your wilderness.

  There is a way out.

  Listen for that voice.  And grab your flag.

  (Also, there should be a flag for the Wilderness that is “Age 13.”  And I would like to bop the now 13 year old gift from God over the head with it.)

   

  Posted in JULY 2018 | 0 Comments | Tagged How the Light Gets In, Isaiah 43:18-19, Rachel Held Evans, Wilderness

• Follow Through

  Posted at 7:53 am by How the Light Gets In, on May 27, 2018

  Yes, the Athlete Analogy continues. Remember last time, when I wrote about being side-lined, taken out of the game, put on the DL? A lot has happened in the days since I last posted.  Walk with me.

  Jason and I met with a new surgeon. Dr. Johnson is a pelvic reconstructive surgeon.  A friend suggested him. I called. HE answered. We met Friday. Boom!

  I went in to the appointment hoping this doctor would have the surgery in mind, that we would look at the calendar and he would schedule my rescue.  And that’s exactly how it did not go. Like, not at all.

  Dr. Johnson told me surgery is simply not an option.  How dare he? He explained that in order to feel better it was up to me.   The road to recovery involves time, effort, money and it is up to me.

  Life hurt me. Life left evil, painful, sad scars on me through many ways over many years. Being opened up for surgery 5 times in 10 months didn’t help.  My heart didn’t realize how much it wanted this doctor to schedule a quick-fix surgery until it didn’t hear it.

  I left feeling so sad.  That sadness turned to anger.  Why is it up to me to fix what life gave me?  WHY?

  I asked. God answered.

  FRIDAY Jason came with me.  He asked good questions of both the doctor and me. He loved me well through good food, thoughtful conversation, much needed quiet, and hugs. And beautiful Grammie shows up with my absolute favorite beef and barley stew with loaves of bread PLUS brownies WITH icing. She is magic.

  SATURDAY I found myself zoning out at Luci’s basketball practice.  Coach snapped me back yelling, “Again!  Again! Guys it’s all about the follow through!” He was making the kids repeat the same moves over and over until it became one fluid motion.  They were all grumbling but they did it. Step left, step right, dribble and up. Over and over and over. But, they got it.  And you could see the confidence in their faces.

  Yes, I teared up during basketball drills. “Hey God, I see you seeing me.  I see how this path to healing involves a lot of Follow Through; the recovery, healing, letting go, committing and watching with hope.  Okay.” Good tears.

  SUNDAY is church and Nativity is just where God loves to hang out so that was good.

  MONDAY I got a text from Colleen

  

  Endurance and encouragement sound like great tools to make the Follow Through work. Grateful Colleen hit “send” for me.

  TUESDAY I listen to a podcast and hear the guest say he hoped after something hard in his life to be able to pray that God would make a NEW thing.  That his prayer is not to take something old and make it better but to make something TOTALLY NEW.

  WEDNESDAY Taylor shows up with flowers and in her best coaching voice she helps change the voice in my heart. “Yay!  It’s up to YOU and no one else, nothing else, just YOU!” Wisdom from a friend half my age.

  So this is up to me.  My healing is in my hands. And I got this.

  BECAUSE I believe there is a God.  I believe God is on my side.  I believe God loves me. I believe God shows up in ALL ways to prove it.

  Let the work begin! (and the sports analogies end)

  amen

   

   

  Posted in MAY 2018 | 1 Comment | Tagged Colleen, Follow Through, How the Light Gets In, Romans 15:4-5, Taylor

• Sidelined.

  Posted at 11:46 am by How the Light Gets In, on May 13, 2018

  Andrea Smithberger has been benched.

  I am still hurting.  Feels like pain and even the meds to treat the pain have put me on the DL.  I’m sitting on the sidelines of how I used to live.  And, I’ve been wrestling with it pretty hard these past few weeks.  Not only am I hurting but I feel stuck.  I feel not myself.  I feel annoyed.  Especially after Sprance…

  Sprance is the Spring Dance held at Lauren’s school.  She wore a gorgeous, red dress and she was going with an awesome group of friends plus she was bringing a date.  Yes, a boy.  I buried the lead there, didn’t I?  All that to say, I wanted to be there and be able to drive the group around that night, so I skipped my pain meds.  Everything started out so well and so fun.  But the pain started creeping in during the pre-party.  Imagine a thorny stick going in from your hip, through your lower tummy, twisting around, pulling back, and curling out the other hip.  Add a throbbing ache here and there to make it interesting.  I just wanted to be at the pictures.  I just wanted to see my Lauren smile with her friends.  I just wanted to make sure this guy knew who I was.  (And, for the record, he gets a thumbs up.)  I just wanted to drive them around and hear them laugh and attempt conversation.  And I was there.  But I also paid the price for it.  I cried most of the next few days, got grumpy and sulked.

  

  This blog is a great accountability tool for me.  If I titled the stupid thing “How the Light Gets In,” then the challenge is set.  Right?  Also, God.  Why God keeps after me blows my mind.  But He does.  So, between God and this blog, you know I have to look for the good and trust that there is purpose.  Otherwise, I’m just hurting and sitting.

  Pain put me on the DL. Tell me, God, where are we going with this? I’m looking and trusting.  This is what I’m finding: Pain has slowed the momentum of what I knew as my life to a crawl.  And when I take the meds; I stutter, get too dizzy to drive and STILL end up on the couch.  I have 5 kids and it’s MAY, people.  May is as crazy as December with all the end-of-year-things.  I can’t. Literally.

  DETAILS: When you can’t do much more than sit, you start to notice things.  Bitter Andrea would scowl that life is moving without me.  But Better Andrea (cheesey, but stay with me) sees more. There’s something intensely important about noticing details and patterns and nuances around me.  I see Luci’s freckles and denim blue eyes.  I inhale the smell of Lily’s hair after a full day of school and “bunch bunch” (or lunch bunch as boring people call it).  I look around at dozens of Sophomores in full-on selfie mode and smile from the inside out.  In the rush of life, I would miss this.

  SPEED: I mentioned before I’m at a crawl.  I get basics done.  This part kills me.  I’m used to going and doing and doing more!  The meds can make me stutter so I have to think before I speak.  I pause before I open my mouth.  For those in my immediate circle, that has probably been beneficial.  But it’s hard and humbling for me.

  PURPOSE: My schedule is very intentional.  I have the “musts” and I’m getting those done.  There isn’t much more though. I’m more purposeful in my planning and that is an adjustment. I used to be the type that felt “the busier the better.” I can honestly say having some free space on the calendar feels good. An immediate reward has been Tuesday nights with my new friend, Lori.

  What has you sitting the bench? A broken ankle or a broken heart, either way, let’s use this time to retrain some muscles, to grow in new ways.

  1 Peter 5:6 says, “He will lift you up in due time.” I’m here, Coach.  I’ll trust you to let me know when I’m ready.

  Posted in MAY 2018 | 1 Comment | Tagged 1 Peter 5:6, Better not BItter, How the Light Gets In, Sidelined

• But God…

  Posted at 10:36 pm by How the Light Gets In, on March 31, 2018

  The walls around my heart should be thick and tall.

  The walls of my heart should have dark bricks of bitterness.

  And honestly, the walls of my heart have been high and they have been thick.

  My body & my heart have been through so much more.

  Life doesn’t make sense.  I remember spending a lot of time demanding the answers, researching the possibilities, crying over my “WHY’s.”

  My life story has more than one chapter of sad stuff.  I’m sure yours does too.  Do you have the chapters tucked away? Or is your hard chapter being written now?

  Life doesn’t make sense.  Life straight up sucks sometimes.  It just does.

  You need to know God’s love for you is just waiting on the other side of that wall.

  You are on this journey with me.

  And a big part of this chapter is marking these moments of HEY, GOD IS LEGIT so we can celebrate & grow in this together.  Because, honestly, when the hard comes at me, I still grab a brick and start building.

  But God.

  But God.

  But God.

  He just keeps dropping bits of heaven into my day, kicking that wall down.

  WHAT IS THE BIGGEST BRICK IN YOUR LIFE NOW?  What or who does it look like?  How does it make you feel?  How heavy is it?  It would take a lot, something pretty powerful to knock that down, right?  Mine too.

  Jesus had a brick, in fact, it was a large stone.  “Make the tomb secure by putting a seal on the stone and posting the guard.” Matthew 28:66

  Does it feel like your brick is huge, and bitterness may have sealed it up, with worry standing guard?

  This Easter, light and love are waiting to bust through your wall.  Do not doubt the power of Jesus’ love for you.  After all, that huge stone “holding Jesus in his tomb…” yeah, that just rolled away blowing everyone’s minds.  Let him blow yours away.

  Happy Easter!

  Posted in MARCH 2018 | 0 Comments | Tagged Bricks, But God, How the Light Gets In, Matthew 28:66

• Flipping the Switch

  Posted at 10:24 pm by How the Light Gets In, on March 14, 2018

  Remember when you were little?  And, you were trying so hard to sleep but there was that scary thing in your room?  And, it was so dark.  And, there was no way you could get up to turn on the light.  It’s as if you were paralyzed right in your bed.  And finally, when you had gotten enough courage to yell out for help, your mom or dad would come to the rescue.  And all they did was switch on the light. And that scary thing would be revealed… a towel on the doorknob.  Right?  But it was sooooo scary.

  That towel on the door knob was terrifying hanging there in the dark.

  That towel on the door knob was so powerful in the dark.

  The longer we hold things in the dark, the more power we give them.  The longer we keep things in the dark, the more paralyzed we can become.  That’s my takeaway from therapy so far.

  It’s good, right?

  What’s your “towel?”  I know you have one.  Maybe you have a bunch of towels piled high and scary and intimidating in a dark corner of your heart.

  Maybe you believe you aren’t good enough.  Maybe you believe you deserve it.  Maybe you feel if you aren’t doing it all, you are just not worthy.

  It’s time to flip the switch.

  God, THE source of light (1John 1:5), is on standby waiting to bring on the light.  He’s hoping you’ll call out to Him and He can shed the light of truth on who you are (1Peter 2:9).  He’s waiting to blind you with overwhelming love.  He’s on standby to come into the mess and sing His sweet song of love over you (Zephaniah 3:17),  filling you with the peace you deserve.

  It takes a lot of courage to face my stupid, scary “towels.”  To be honest, my heart is still adjusting to the light of truth.  This will take time. I can tell you, I have never felt more brave, scared, messy and loved ALL AT THE SAME TIME in my life.  Lots of deep breaths.

  I’m grateful, even if it’s taken this long to learn, that flipping the switch is one way how the light gets in.

  {side note: Cory Asbury.  Have you heard him?  His new album, “Reckless Love” is on repeat.  He turned scriptures into prayers into music.  And my soul is singing right along with every word.}

   

   

   

   

   

  Posted in MARCH 2018 | 1 Comment | Tagged 1 John 1:5, 1 Peter 2:9, Cory Asbury, Dark, flipping the switch, How the Light Gets In, Zephaniah 3:17

• Bread + Therapy

  Posted at 1:36 pm by How the Light Gets In, on February 17, 2018

  Fun fact about me.  I’m a quitter.  I’ll start an embroidery project or drinking water; and before too long, it’s just meh.  So, a few months back, a circle of special girls decided we would tackle “100 Days to Brave” together.  It’s a devotional written to inspire, educate and love you to courage rooted in truth.  And it was 100 days.  Like, consecutively.  Not my M.O.  However, we did it!  I did it!  100 days of scripture to push me to a Brave life.  HOORAY!

  So, what would Brave look like for you?  After 100 days of hearing, YOU GOT THIS! What would you do?

  I baked bread.

  Those little yellow packet of “active yeast” have always intimidated the heck outta me.  Homemade pizza crusts, pie doughs, breads wigged me out because of the yeast part.  Why?  Please.  There is no logic here.  However, let me say it again; I baked bread.  And it was alright.  And I faced the dreaded yeast step again and again.  Now, I make a lovely Honey Oatmeal bread.

  

  How is this brave?  Yeast aside, the process is slow.  Slow is not my speed.  The Honey Oatmeal Bread process requires time.  Carefully, I measure out the flour. Heating butter in a saucepan until it just melts and mixing in the honey and oats smells amazing and gives off the most wonderful smell.  Then after a few more steps, I get to put this mound of dough on the counter and knead it with my hands.  My speed, slow and deliberate, is intentional now.  Deep breaths in.  Long exhales.  There’s something magical about letting the dough rise, seeing it double in size.  And then, poof I deflate it and fold it into buttered pans to rise again.  And the SMELL that fills the house is a prize alone.

  It’s not a big deal but it’s a step.  It might sound dumb but it made me proud and feel pretty good about myself.

  That was the baby step. There always needs to be a first step, right?  Even if it is a loaf of bread.  My next brave move was:  I started therapy.  I stepped into an office with a professional and walked out alive.  The days after have left me feeling raw and kind of yucky feeling.  This therapy is shedding light on old wounds.  Wounds I’ve kept to myself.  Over time, those wounds have wrapped themselves in sticky lies and shame.

  This is what happens when the light gets in.  Those hard things I’ve kept to myself get the light of truth and love all over them.  I deserve this though.  Right?  I mean, yes, right.

  “You can’t have true courage unless you open yourself up to vulnerability.”  Thank you Brene Brown.  I am holding onto that.  I am brave because I am letting it go.

  Paul wrote in his letter to the Ephesians,

  “Everything exposed by the light becomes visible – and everything that is illuminated becomes light.”  – Ephesians 5:13

  God has been with me through my whole journey.  I believe He has waited patiently and lovingly for this moment and He is cheering me on.  “Be strong and courageous.  Don’t be afraid; don’t be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” – Joshua 1:9. That’s good stuff.

  Bread + Therapy, this is how the light gets in for me these days.  Pray for me to not give up, on the bread or me.

  Posted in FEBRUARY 2018 | 1 Comment | Tagged 100 Days to Brave, Annie F Downs, Baking Bread, Brene Brown, Ephesians 5:13, How the Light Gets In, Joshua 1:9, Therapy, Vulnerability