Dear Jen,
I'm much more of a handwritten note type of person. I so would love to write you a letter, just between you and me, to say thank you, to encourage you, to uplift you. But I'd have to be a total creeper to try to figure out a place to send it. And I'm going to refuse to be a creeper. So I'm throwing this up into the internet air and hoping it lands somewhere near you. Not because I haven anything special to say, but just because I want to send a little encouragement your way. When I saw your tweet that said, "Facebook is where humanity and kindness go to die," I hurried over to your page to see what you wrote (knowing full well whatever you said was needed and good). After reading some of the comments on that post, and remembering some things people said to you months ago on a totally different topic, I just want to say...
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One reason I love driving by myself (and with just my little one) is being able to pray out loud. (I'm not alone in that, right?)
Recently, I was driving along and hadn't even turned down two streets and already had tears streaming down my face as I talked to my Heavenly Father. As we wait for a job, for a home, for a community, we know the Lord is at work in ways we cannot see, but in the middle of the waiting my heart can get heavy and the tears can easily flow. Last night I made corn bread to go with dinner. Just simple corn bread baked in a muffin pan. As I took them out of the pan to put on a plate, a few of them broke leaving the bottom half in the pan.
For a quick second I was sad I messed them up. But then Spencer came over and said, "They aren't messed up. They're perfect for buttering now!" Man. Such a little thing, but the Lord uses even little things, like broken corn muffins, to speak His grace in the mundane. I recently read Psalm 84 and God whispered to my heart that He is near and will give me just enough strength for today.
I am so prone to worry about tomorrow. And as Spencer and I continue on not knowing when God's provision will come or what it will look like, Jesus continually reminds me that I have no need to worry. He was in complete control when He created the heavens and the earth. He was in complete control when He was nailed to the cross. He remains in complete control as He sits enthroned in heaven. He created the universe. He conquered sin and death. He sustains all things. He is Provider, Protector, Defender. And He is with us. He is with me. As we walk closer towards the Cross, my mind is flooded with the pains of family, friends, and the Church around the world.
So much hurt. So many different trials. Yesterday, Katherine fought her nap so hard. Her little body was exhausted, but she refused to give in. It was like an hour long wrestling match. A wrestling match that left me in tears and left Katherine finally giving in to sleep. She couldn't fight sleep any longer, and I couldn't fight keeping it together any longer. I asked God to please let her learn to sleep well, to take away whatever wakes her so often. And even in the midst of my prayer I had to fight off guilt. Guilt that told me I shouldn't let this sleep struggle get to me because there are much bigger things going on in the world. If this is the toughest thing my sweet Katherine has to deal with than I can only be grateful. I can be grateful, but I can also admit it's hard. |
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Sarah ConnatserSarah loves Jesus and her family and is passionate about addressing the urgent spiritual and physical needs around the world. She is the wife of Spencer and mama of Katherine and Claire, and they live in Nashville, TN. She runs a photography business with her husband and writes in order to offer encouragement and invite others to choose grace, joy, and gratitude in the adventure and the mundane. She loves traveling and reading; she will choose unsweet tea over sweet and bootcut jeans over skinny; and she is all sorts of awkward with small talk but thrives with deep conversations. |