I recently had someone reach out to me and ask that I encourage women not to give up, to keep pushing forward, and to be willing to humbly go to God to receive healing and guidance.

The question was humbling. I am not sure I know how to teach that. I am a little shy about directly teaching Biblical truths. I'm afraid of messing up God's precious word or making one of my precious sister-in-faith stumble in their own path. 

However, at the end of the day, I can honestly say, that every true revelation and growth forward in my life has been fueled by both repentance for my stubborn-as-heck-need-to-control-everything and my humility in realizing I am so broken with out a Savior patching up all the holes. 

The past six weeks I've been working with professionals to revamp my Weight Loss from the Soul group. As I do the work, I feel drawn to make sure every bit of powerful weight loss advice is grouped with the only Truth (God's word) that will draw them close to the Healer. 

Six years ago, I was battling alcoholism. I wasn't all the way down the hole, but I was taking a good look into that dark abyss and begging God to pull me away. He did. It was step by step, healing by healing. Sometimes the next piece to my healing was a podcast, or a verse, or a Sunday morning message. Every ounce of strength to break free from those habits, came day-by-day and sometimes hour-by-hour. 

Later, when I battled my emotional eating and unhealthy eating patterns, I realized that life is too short to run to anything for temporary pleasure or comfort when I am having to trade off mental peace and space that could be used for God's better purposes. Plus, God must smile each time I declare that His presence is more perfect than a piece of candy. I feel Him hold me tight when turn to Him instead of another taste because I'm feel torn by the stress of life. 

But, how do I teach this? On some level, I can't. Each precious woman must discover this on their own. Like me, they must fail forward and fall into God's arms. They must got to Him for the strength to keep fighting to uproot strongholds. 

And I, I want to fight for them too. 
​

I knew that day would be a gut-punch, but that didn't prepare me for the pain. 

Since Micaela's infancy, we've been trying to get her on this special list called the Developmental Delay Waiver which would validate her disabilities and make her eligible to receive resources and support for the rest of her life. 

It is a big deal.

But even with all of Micaela's medical issues and global developmental problems, she fell into a gray area and the only way to get her on that DD Waiver list was to obtain diagnostic testing after the age of eight confirming her permanent and multiple dissabilities. 

Her school is so awesome, the moment she stepped food in school this year, they scheduled all the testing we needed to confirm her eligibility. Thursday was the day that I sat down with the diagnostician to talk about what she found. 

We now can officially add intellectual disability to her list. 

Even as I type the words my throat tightens and my eyes fill with tears. It is just a label, but it is also true. I already knew it, but it wasn't something that I had to acknowledge. 

Later that day, I felt bruised and heartbroken, just like I have a thousand times in my parenting journey with Micaela. I thought about all the incredible friends and loved ones I could call that would be more than willing to lift me up and shower me with love and encouragement just as they've done a million times. However, I just couldn't summon the energy to say, "Hello" and have to explain all the numbers and assessments I had read through a couple hours before. 

So, I begged God, to fill me with all the strength and hope I needed to lift my head again. And, I could almost hear His voice as He whispered, "That girl is the only pep talk you need."

I practically ran to Micaela's side where she was doing a tone-deaf rendition of "Let it Go." into a toy microphone. Her eyes lit up as I approached and her song got louder with an epic flourish of hand motions. She was so happy, so alive, so full of love. 

She is the only pep talk I need. 

When I look at her I see all the things she's learned. When I look at her I'm in awe of her large personality and the energy of her tiny body. 

Thank you, God. Since her birth, since her first smile, since the first time I heard her laugh...at each moment You, God, have filled my heart with a hope beyond reason and a love beyond belief. 

Just when you get comfortable, start to feel successful, or think that you've figured everything out, God asks you to do something new. 

May be He allows something big to fall into your lap or a problem to arise in your family. Or, as it is in my case, He asks you to move forward with a calling. 

Talk about petrifying. 

I just don't like it. I want a calling that comes with a 9 - 5 clock in and out. I don't want to sell anything or convince anyone of anything. I just want to do a good job.  (This is, by the way, what many farmers, ranchers, and entrepreneurs feel 🤷🏽‍♀️). 

About this time last year I felt called to develop a program for women who would like to lose weight and break down the strongholds they have around food and eating. The work fascinates and fulfills me, but as I take the program to the next level, the fear has been overwhelming. 

A couple days ago I was out feeding farm animals and watching all the sheep graze peacefully out in the field. We had built the fence and opened the gate, watching them hop and jump and run forward, eager for the untrod ground and green feed. They have no thoughts of their forward feet taking them anywhere but to good places.  

I smiled. God loves me. It really doesn't matter what waits for me on the other side of obediently stepping forward. His love surrounds me and allows the fear to fall away. All that is left is faith and, when I stopped to think about it, ... fun. 

When all the worry is set aside and we trust in a powerful God who loves us, life is a brilliant adventure. It's fun. Even the challenges and slip-ups included in His beautiful plan are okay, because we are doing it with Him. Joy and joy again awaits. 

This week, I'm setting fear aside. My heart lightens as I trust in my good good Father. 

I bit my lip and started the prayerful negotiation. "God, I can't sabbath this weekend. I have a cold. I'm way behind in all my work. The girls need things. I have to get stuff done. I promise, I'll get back to setting aside a day of rest as soon as I get through this course...and things slow down at school...and the garden isn't growing...and..."

I thank God He made the discomfort of my soul sharp and unrepentant. I knew, even as I haggled, that to disobey I would be saying that I didn't trust God.

I would be saying that I didn't trust God with the work He has given me. I would be saying that I didn't trust God's big picture for my life. I would be saying that I didn't trust God's promises. I would be saying I didn't trust God to be sharing truth when He told us over and over that a day of rest is crucial for our life. 

So, I held my breath, shut one eye, and closed my computer at 4pm on Saturday evening. 

Jovani was away for the weekend, studying for two major exams this week. The moment I stepped away from my computer the girls swarmed me like happy little bees, full of ideas to watch movies and eat waffles and snuggle in our pajamas. 

Immediately I was so glad I said, "Yes." to God. 

The next 24 hours were full. We stayed home from church with our suspicious sniffles, had coffee with my dad, made pasta, watched TV, sang songs, and read books. It was beautiful and restful. My heart filled with joy, the joy that comes when you rest in God's promises, no longer required to carry the burdens of life alone. 

So far, the week has been blessed by our Sabbath, just as God promised. 

Yesterday I ran outside because I literally didn't know what to do with myself. 

I was completley overwhelmed. With work as a teacher starting up next week, Adela's baptism on Sunday, and some projects that I promised would get done before summer ended ... I just didn't know where to start. I had a horrible sinking feeling that I wouldn't get it all done at all. 

So, I ran outside with my socked feet stuffed into my thong sandals (I don't know why I do that) and walked up and down the drive way. I prayed and cried and asked God to please just write down a list of what He wanted from me so that I could stop being confused and disappointed in myself all the time. 

All the time. 

Because at the end of the day, the list felt like a big fat sign that I had messed up. That I had messed up the summer. Maybe I was doing all the wrong things. Maybe I wasn't on the right track. Maybe my family wasn't on the right track. Maybe I wasn't what and who I was supposed to be and needed to trim corners of my heart to fill the space that others expected of me. 

My eyes lifted to the sky and I finally saw the approaching storm, the warm moist wind filling my face and nose. 

I love storms. It feels like watching a force of God approach, full of power and promise. 

So I sat on an old blue tractor and wiped tears from my face. 

A bird, a simple barn swallow, flew in front of me and perched on the power lines. "Look at the birds. They do not plant or harvest or store food in barns and your Heavenly Father feeds them." Matthew 6:26. I stared at the bird. It didn't need to worry and God promised me that I was more valuable that it. That silly little barn swallow. 

That barn swallow also didn't need to be anything but himself. He just had to be. To live. 

"Oh, God," I breathed. "Me, too?"

He whispered back into my soul. Yes, you, too, Lora. You just need to be. 

The fog, confusion, and fear cleared. I smiled. I even felt a little foolish. 

I am me.

I have a ridiculous passion to improve things, to teach, to watch people grow, to figure out systems, to find the fullness in life every breath of my life. 

Oh, goodness, how I suddenly loved that bird. It isn't a smart creature and it isn't worried about it. The more it trusts God the more it rests in God's bounty and provision. 

I rose from the tractor when the wind gusted up, the sand pushing me back to the house and my list. I am me. God created me for His purposes. I just need to enjoy the ride, the placement of my soul in the wide tapestry of His love story. 
​

I was puttinig Adela to bed and she had a thousand words. I tucked a few strands of dark brown hair behind her ear and marveled at the sparkle in her eyes as she told me about the most important part of her day: digging up irrigation leaks with her papa. 

The laughter was hard to hold in, I could feel it bubbling up at the base of my chest. She was full of conversation about worms and frogs and gophers, repeating a dozen things she had learned and expressing her fascinations with the process. 

And I was so thankful. 

It had been one of those days when I had felt exhausted and preoccupied. There had been a lot of phone calls to make and decisions requiring thought. I had felt like a truly terrible mom. I had been so emotionally and mentally unavailable to the girls. 

Eventually we said our prayers, sang our songs, and turned out the lights. I walked away and was so thankful for the way God provided love and connection to our active little girl through the simple act of working with her father. It also made me pause. 

We really don't have to recreate or construct perfect experiences for our children, we just need to include them in life. Life is already part of the interesting and complex. Life is already full. But so often we feel the need to occupy our children elsewhere while we get life done. As if they need to be compartmentalized into another part of our world. 

Now, I'm not saying that I should have put the phone on speaker while I called doctors and dentists that day and let Adela be part of the decisions being made, but there are more opportunities than I realize to include the girls in my life and in my world. There are conversations to be had over folding laundry. There is laughter to be heard as we squish pizza dough. There are plenty of ways that we can be seen and heard. 

This realization is such a relief. Connecting with my girls can often feel like another chore, another expectation that is sometimes not met. However, when I invite them into my world and my life, the connection can me more real and deep than the reconstructed moments that are squeezed into a busy schedule. 

Thank you, God, for showing me that it never was that complicated. Relationships are about sharing our life with others, including them in our world.

Sometimes, with gardening, I admit to not know what I am doing. However, I have accepted my condition, realizing that with every project and plant, my knowledge grows. For my perfectionistic soul, this is one of the most therapeutic activities. Plants require love and care, but they are alive and so much of what they do and how they develop is out of my control. I can see my work being rewarded, but I receive little surprises every day that I venture out to my plants.

This week, I have been battling weeds. I decided to be extra smart and sow perennial seeds into the south side of the old bunkhouse. Then, next year there would be happy plants ready to bloom and grow. The problem is that the seeds take 21 days to germinate and, in the meantime, New Mexico weeds have done their thing. 

I waited and agonized for my seeds to come to life and finally, I was rewarded for my patience. Tiny, unfamiliar sprouts lifted their heads from the dirt, shadowed by hundreds of iron weeds and careless weeds. So this week, with agonizing precision, I have endeavored to remove the weeds and give them space to grow. 

The funny thing is, I am just like those baby plants. The space and stillness given to me in those early morning hours, create the space for peace to enter my soul, fueling me for the hours of busy life ahead. It is in those quiet moments that I feel my heart stretching out, taking new and health shape. 

So, why do we resist the quiet? I think of the past school year and how I tried to fill every breathing waking moment. Surely, there was ample opportunity for my mind and heart to stretch and grow unencumbered by my vicious insistence on taking ground and marching forward. 

As I look at the summer months I pray for the wisdom to make sure I find space for stillness during other seasons of my life. 
​

Where do you need to create more quiet and space for your soul to grow?