Where is my oven mit?

I hate moving....

Laying in bed last night, I told Grayson that I "really don't like large doses of change". He just laughed. I suppose it is a bit ironic, with us preparing to move to Europe and all. This transition has proven to be a much bigger turning point in my life than I thought. I thought we were just moving all of our belongings 10 minutes from their previous destination. I thought it would be a simple material adjustment of washing our dishes by hand, and our clothes at a coin machine (or at church...) I was wrong. This simple change has me thinking. This is where, in a short time, I will be chasing a toddler around in the yard. It's where our sweet little boy will spend the first years of his life. And it will (hopefully) be our last home here in America before we pack up and make a much bigger move, and a much larger transition; one which will require far more adjustment.

Didn't I used to thrive on the adventure of new surroundings? What has caused me, or allowed me, to become so comfortable in a setting that I am reluctant of change? As a teenager it was everything I could wish for to board a plane bound for a completely unknown land. Now, grown, married, and baby on the way, at times I wonder--are we being realistic? Are we crazy?

If so, then crazy is what I want to be. For I know that God has called us to this very thing--to preach His gospel of good news to the lost of this world. And specifically, to gain and grow believers in distant lands, where they will then gain and grow more, causing an exponential growth of the body of Christ. When I think about this, complacency becomes the most appalling thing to my being. I want to be uncomfortable. I know for certain the apostle Paul was not comfortable as he faced beatings, imprisonment, or even being "constantly on the move". (2 Cor. 11:26)

God has called us to a life so much bigger, so much more full of adventure, and so much more rewarding. The next two years hold so much in way of preparation and growth, and so much blessing; more than we can even anticipate. And then, once we're ready for the next phase--one of bringing the Gospel of Grace to lost people in a distant land--I will not be full of apprehension, but rather an eager zeal for all the Lord has in store for us, and for those He will bring to Himself.

My heart is eager to progress in our path to ministry overseas.

Sometimes being here can be exhausting, only because my heart is so furiously fighting to be elsewhere. I must at times reign it in. I know, although our time of preparation has extended itself beyond our initial expectations, that this is God's hand at work, preparing us for successful ministry.

As our wise leaders at church have told us, they will not "send us over to fail". If we're going--we are going prepared. God would desire it no other way.

However we at time still find ourselves discouraged; as if we're at a standstill.

Yet we know that these time-consuming steps in our life will not prove futile. School, ministry, work, even the time itself between now and our overseas ministry each play a part in building a successful base for our ministry.

But only if God is in them. If in anything we do God is not present, and Christ is not preeminent, then it is indeed a waste of time.

May school never be for that degree alone. May work never be for that paycheck. May ministry never be for that "check" off of our to-do list.

This time is precious, although frustrating as it can be.

Where Vulnerability Meets Grace

Father, my offense towards You in greater than any offense I have ever suffered against me.
An irrevocable disdain,  even if only through my birth.
Tainted by breath--Your original breath of life, swallowed up by death; these clay hands to pound those nails.
The nails driven in by my own force.
They puncture Your Dear One's flesh.
They puncture, also, the wall which binds my soul from hope.
For a moment, it's as if we're near, my hand so near to Yours.
Yet when I look down, there is a crimson separation.
The nail, from my hand to yours, demands blood.
As sign of Your life surfaces and begins to trickle down, I am alarmed by an unexpected glance at Light.
It is piercing through that wall, through a small breech, straight into my soul, and I feel warmth.
I feel it now in my eyes; I cannot hold it back.
As I aim the second spike, and place it so carefully into Your flesh, I begin to tremble.
I can bear it no longer--into Your eyes I glance.
All at once, I am vulnerable.
My tears sting my eyes. They flow warmly down my face.
They fall to Your arm, mixing with Your spilled blood.
Though I could not see it until now, I now see, we are united.
Separated by this nail; brought together in Your blood.
Yet Your agony does not cease, nor does Your inflicter relent.
Slowly, as to not be overcome by this trembling, I rise to my feet. I release my gavel and it falls to my side.
I walk only a small distance from You, and I pick up the rope.
For the first time, and only for a moment, I see those standing around me. They, too, shed their tears.
With all of my might, I pull the rope.
Your cross begins to rise.
Your eyes peer down into mine.
Yet I see no hatred. I see no regret in Your gaze.
My sobs have become uncontrollable.
Only as soon as I can secure my rope to its peg, do I fall to my knees.
Slowly I drag myself to the foot of Your cross. I place my hand down to keep myself upright.
I place it straight into Your pool of blood.
Staring now at my blood-soaked hand, I see this invaluable mixture of Your blood and my tears.
Our unity.
Your crimson sacrifice, my inability, my relent.
I can go no further. I stop here at Your cross.
This is where I dwell.
The only place where my vulnerability may be met by Your grace.


"If we have been united with Him like this in His death, we will certainly also be united with Him in His resurrection." Romans 6:5

It's Friday, but Sunday's coming!

Two years ago to this day, Grayson Lynum took me hiking in the Vernon Marsh, a beautiful wetland--the same one he took me hiking in to ask me to date him. This time, just like the fist, he built me a fire. This time, like the first, he asked me a big question. But this one was a bit weightier than the first. And this time, unlike the first, he placed a beautiful gold ring on my hand.

That ring makes me smile to this day when I glance down at it. And behind it lays a simple golden band. It's a simple symbol signifying an ever-increasing devotion I have to my husband. An ever-increasing love.

It's incredible the amount of life you can live in the span of two years, and how very different that life can develop than first expected. Here I am, two years later, married to my best friend, and 6 months pregnant with our son. God has brought us so far in our marriage, our schooling, our church, and our pursuit of ministry.

But today I am thinking also about how far God has brought me in my relationship to Him in the past two years. I am ever thankful for the growth He has produced within me. Today I wrote a paper for class on what it has means to me, in my life, to be "complete in Christ".

"and in Him you have been made complete" (Colossians 2:10)

I am fully complete. He has fully reconciled me that I have complete access to Himself and all the riches of Christ. Hope. Glory. Peace. Joy. Goodness. Strength. Victory. These are all presently mine in Christ! The potential I have in Him is complete fullness. My life is hidden within Him, and I am secure because of that. I am safe and secure in my future glory with Him. As well, I am safe and secure in my life here on earth, because it is founded in Him. I can live fully victorious in Him! I am no longer enslaved to my old sinful nature. Instead, I can live fully aware of all I have in Christ. In His power I live identified with Christ in newness of life!


Two years is a short time. The past two have been packed full of life! And I have a feeling this is still just the beginning.....

I may be too wordy.


All throughout school, I was the one stressing not over meeting the word count on a paper, but rather limiting myself to the maximum word count allowance. And here I find myself again at 91 words over, and I have not yet written my conclusion.

I hate deleting words.

It's funny, too, because most people describe me as "quiet". Not on paper, I guess.

I'm working on credit 3 of 15, and can see an end in the distance. Come this December (prayerfully), both Gray and me will be finished with school. That's an abstract idea to grasp in my mind. We have been working at this for so long. Deterred by so many things:  Work, travel, finances, marriage--life, really. It's a big step in our path to the field; a big check on that list of things needing to be accomplished before we can be sent. And mentally, it will be a huge personal accomplishment for the both of us.

It is interesting how life can "get in the way", but at the same time, serve to better prepare us. I would never trade my experiences overseas, the opportunity to work in our church, marrying young to my best friend, or even the lessons we've learned through financial struggles, just to complete school sooner. Yes--it has delayed us in our path to the field. But we would not have been ready sooner, for we needed these "roadblocks" to prepare us.

Our path has stretched out much longer than anticipated. It is much, much rougher than I imagined. I'm thankful for both of these. Although there is such an urgency in my heart, one that rings true to the urgency of the Gospel in God's own heart, I know that He is taking His perfect time to make us ready, that we may be successful in the preaching of His Word.

It is hard waiting. It is so hard. Emotionally, some days it is such a bleak and distant thing in my mind. Will we ever get there? It has been so long already. Yet when I turn around, and glance instead to how far God has already brought us, I am sure--He is leading the way. He is walking with us. And He will get us there.

That is all that I desire, after all.

"We rationalize these passages away.

'Jesus wouldn't really tell us not to bury our father or say good-bye to our family. Jesus didn't literally mean to sell all we have and give it to the poor. What Jesus really meant was...'

And this is where we need to pause. Because we are starting to redefine Christianity. We are giving in to the dangerous temptation to take the Jesus of the Bible and twist Him into a version of Jesus we are more comfortable with.

A nice, middle-class, American Jesus.

A Jesus who doesn't mind materialism and who would never call us to give away everything we have. A Jesus who would not expect us to forsake our closest relationships so that He receives all our affection."

"Radical" by David Platt.

In small group a few weeks back, our group leader challenged us to write in order of importance, these things in our life:

God. Self. Spouse. Family. Friends. Things.

We were to write, first, what these should look like in order of importance. Then, we were to write them in actuality, how we have set them up in our lives, in view of priority.

I was surprised by the difference of my two lists. It's something I've always known of myself but not known how exactly to address. I put myself first, as we all do. Secondly I place my husband, then  God.

1. Me.
2. Grayson.
3. God.

And it makes me wonder, once this precious boy is born, this little one I already love with more than I ever though I could, will God move even further down that list?

I praise God for the great love He has bestowed on me, and that I share that very love with my husband. I know we have something far unique to the average American marriage. I know I need to love him, as I do, with Christ's very love, but at the same time, never place him above Christ in my life. Not with my time, not with my affection, not with my thoughts, not with my love. Christ needs to be first. That doesn't mean I need to love Grayson less. It means that I need to love Christ more.

It means that I need to love Christ with more love than I have ever known myself to posses. With more love than I can ever muster up from my own heart. I need to love Him with only a love that comes from Him. And that will take my whole life, with His working inside of my heart.

Lord, help me to love you more today than I did yesterday.

Our Baby Boy!

A near-death experience makes you think. Especially when it's eternal death.

Last night, right before we went to bed, Grayson took our puppy outside. When he opened our door, he found our neighbor laying at the bottom of her staircase on the concrete landing below. She was unconscious, with blood coming out of both ears and labored breathing.

It's one of those times when you can hear in your spouse's voice that something is very wrong.

When I saw her, I thought she was dead until I heard her faint and determined breaths. The paramedics, along with 5 squad cars, 2 ambulances and at least 1 fire truck lit up our whole street. By the time they took her away she was slightly conscious.

As we followed the ambulance to the hospital, all I could think was, "She's not saved."

The immediacy and tragedy of the situation was not that she could lose her life, but that she might have been in hell that very night. What could I have done to prevent her eternal damnation?

During that 20-minute drive I was consumed by guilt. Yes, I've invited her to church on several occasions, and yes, our life and marriage is a testimony to this lost women, but truly, what initiation was not taken? I did not see the urgency.

I see it now. But will I see it tomorrow? Will I see it in a few weeks, when, prayerfully she returns home?

She is ok, for now. She'll remain in the ICU for a few more days undergoing observation for the bleeding in her brain and five skull fractures. If she pulls through; if she makes a full recovery; this I pray will be her turning point.

Oh Lord, pull her through this, and give me another chance.

Why is it that we take so lightly the urgency of the Gospel? That phrase in itself, "urgency of the Gospel", has lost its intensity and fierceness. We could name a million things that distract us from sharing the Gospel with those we come into regular contact with, but when it comes down to it, we are cowards. Where is the "fire shut up in my bones"? Woe to me if I speak not the Gospel. We just take it so lightly, we don't even consider the repercussions. We don't consider the consequences of our lack of effort. We don't consider the souls on their way to eternal destruction--Hell.

May God have mercy on us, and may He embolden us, for we have the greatest message in the world to proclaim!

"For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes..." Romans 1:16

May I not be a hypocrite in writing this.