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If ever I think I have any claim to a quiet lunch, a sleeping baby, a calm house, a contented child, my husband’s help, or even just one second alone, I remember this: Jesus gave up all rights. . He who lacked nothing forsook everything to save us and show us what life—as it was meant to be lived—is really like. He whom the earth trembles before allowed the dust to become part of His make-up. He for whom ceaseless praise and adoration is due made Himself meek and lowly and bore the insults of those made in His image. . Maybe I don’t remember all of this in the moments when my flesh says, “If I could just have...” But I make it a point to meditate on it regularly so that in those moments, the Spirit has room to manifest love in self-control rather than self-service. . 📷 @rachael.viv of our Unexpected Season Verse Card Set (which work well for seasons of transition) . #philippians2 #thenursingseries #bedeeplyrooted #womenintheword #wordsworthnoting
To the one who thinks God has forgotten her, . The loneliness and hiddenness you feel do not escape the eyes of the all-seeing One. . The darkness and captivity you live in are meant to make you ache for the Messiah, the One who says to those in darkness, “Appear,” and to those in prison, “Come out.” . The present distance you experience in your relationship with God makes you wonder if He’s forgotten you, if He’s forsaken you and your desires altogether. . To this He says: “Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭49:15‬ . I know for certain—I cannot forget my nursing child. His cries come to my ears. Awareness in my own body signals his needs. The sheer frequency of his feedings would never allow time to foster forgetfulness. And besides all of the facts, love keeps him on my mind and in my heart because he is mine. . If all of this is true of a sinful mother, how much more so of a holy, righteous, and steadfast loving God? . #thenursingseries #isaiah49 #womenintheword #wordsworthnoting
There are moments when I want to check out. When my eyes search the room for something productive to do or my hands reach for the phone for something interesting to see. I look for ways to be anywhere but here, here in the smallness of my own home in the world of children. . To be productive or stimulated is not bad in and of itself. It’s always the heart that matters. And when my heart wants escape, these little refuges will prove false and the result will be less joy and more frustration, more wanting. . God has a kind way of keeping me from looking to those things to satisfy my hungry soul—typically by pinning me down with a small child. I’m forced to press in deeper to the Lord than the easy outs, and I’m richly rewarded by the food of His banquet table. . I remember that He entered into my world and escaped it only by death. And not before enduring every bit of its existence, always present to the needs and company. I worship Christ for His humility and condescending love, and I find myself content to play tea party, joyful even. . Because as I enter the world of my children, I fellowship with Christ. I die to all my loftiness that keeps me from engaging fully. I stay in the present, fueled by eternal food. I look for ways to love and teach, to make things interesting right here, because the Kingdom of God is content to be in our midst. . #thenursingseries #wordsworthnoting
I’m awoken shortly after returning to sleep, transferring care from the younger to the older. “I need You,” I pray in desperation—the way my toddler cries—only without the accompanying tears. . I pull her into her rocking chair, the lack of sunlight yet to come bringing last night’s song to her little mind. “God is so good,” she sings, and I ask God to help me believe it, to live in this reality today. . Discipline is needed within the hour, and I tell her how much we both need God’s help, to listen and obey, to love and to sacrifice. . A friend reaches out for prayer. I send her what I’m fighting to set my heart on: “You are good and you do good,” Psalm 119:68. . I take away her little Bible because she can’t resist chewing on it, and I tell her that Jesus is the Bread of Life, come to keep us from laboring for that which does not satisfy. . I remember a line from the sermon, “Jesus didn’t come to deliver you from your circumstances, but from your sin, that He may satisfy your heart in His presence so you experience your circumstances very differently.” . Need after need, and I’m limited to supply, and have I sat down today other than to nurse the one or hold the other? The day has passed, and I could easily believe that nothing’s been done, but hasn’t it? Don’t all these little moments where eternity breaks into the monotony matter? . The refrain that’s carried me keeps holding me fast: “God is so good; He’s so good to me.” . Other refrains have stolen my joy and burdened my heart: “This is so hard.” “I can’t do this today.” “I wish I had help, I wish I had more sleep, I wish my circumstances were different.” . These all have left me restless, but as my head hits the pillow, barely able to form a thought, I sink into the rest that’s been carved deep in my soul today. The rest that’s been gifted to me through the hummed song that’s tuned my heart to live in the reality that is true: God is mercifully good, and He is good to me. . 📷 @morganhibbsphoto #motherhoodissanctifying #thenursingseries #risenmotherhood #wordsworthnoting
Happy birthday, our sweet Harper girl. You delight us more than we ever dreamed possible. Your sensitivity, empathy, and desire to love melt our hearts and compel us to shepherd yours. You have made us know our need of God in new ways, giving us the greatest honor of knowing Him in new light. . The joy you express over being a sister humbles us and causes us to worship. You are treasured and adored by us, and we rejoice that we get to be your mommy and daddy and baby brother. . #heyharpergirl #wordsworthnoting