If Only You Believe

I keep thinking about Lazarus. How the impossible became possible when Christ raised him from the dead. But can you imagine the agony his sisters Mary and Martha must have endured for the four days before the miracle?

If only Christ would have been here. If only we would have sent for Him sooner. If only all of this would never have happened. The if only's must have run rampant through their hearts during those four long days.

And when Jesus came to Bethany, Martha uttered her grief: "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." If only.

But if only is never part of the plan. God's ways are always higher than our ways, and our lives unfold exactly according to His will for us. Not because He wants us to suffer. But because He always has something greater in store.

For Christ himself told his apostles before they traveled to Bethany, "...I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe..." The death of Lazarus was not a heavenly oversight but a vital part of the heavenly plan to show forth the glory and power of God.

Even so, Martha still doubted. She worried that the body of Lazarus would stink having lain in the tomb for four days. Christ's response is both humbling and hopeful: "Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?"

We know the rest of the story by heart. Lazarus comes forth from the tomb, alive and well and "many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had seen the things which Jesus did, believed on him."

The question is, do we?

It's easy to believe in the miracles that Christ performed in the Bible. We have hindsight. But do we believe in the midst of our own daily struggles? Faith is not true faith until is tried.

I have wondered time and again if my faith is strong enough to withstand horrendous, terrible blows. With the grace of God, I have overcome many challenges, yet even still I often wondered if my faith was strong enough to endure even more?

But that afternoon in September, just a few months ago, when we were broadsided by a car, I found out what my faith is really made of. There were at least a dozen thoughts simultaneously running through my head seconds after the wreck. But the one I remember the most is the resolute, steadfast faith that came to my aid. I silently stated to my heart, "This happened for a reason and somehow the Lord will turn this to our good."

In the coming days the if only's ran through my head on replay, but they were always combatted by an unwavering faith that the Lord was with us and would not abandon us.

The blessings we received because of the accident far, far outweighed the trouble it caused us. The Lord showed forth His glory and it was all for our good.

Last week our bathroom flooded, and while there were a million inconveniences this caused, we knew that somehow, in some way, the Lord would turn this experience to our good as well. And He has. We are not finished with the remodel that has ensued as a result, but in the end, I have faith that there are no accidents in heaven. Everything the Lord asks us to pass through will sooner or later, show forth His glory and turn to our good. Sometimes it doesn't happen for several months or several decades, but this I know: the Lord will compensate in ways we can't even imagine.

I have many trials in my life and I know you do too. My message to you today is to take a step back and find your faith. Silence the if only's and put your trust in the great God of heaven and earth. The promise the Savior gave to Martha is extended to us even today:

"...If thou [wilt] believe, thou [wilt] see the glory of God."




{All scriptures quoted from John 11}

Finding Christ in Christmas.

I pondered in the stillness, cuddled on the cushions of my white couch. It was late October and Christmas felt just around the corner. This year I determined to keep Christmas centered on Christ. As I gazed out the window, I briefly recalled Christmases past....

I remember the Christmas when I spent dozens of hours creating two twin quilts for my toddler boys. It started as an act of love, but as the days turned into weeks, and my boys watched movies while I painstakingly picked out stitches, measured endless yards of fabric, and hummed that little sewing machine for all it was worth, I realized how very much I disliked sewing and how very much time I was not spending playing with my little boys. It broke my heart and I vowed to never repeat that season.

Another Christmas, guilt consumed me because with all the festive traditions of cookie-making, light-seeing, gift-giving, and Christmas-caroling, I couldn't keep up. I thought I should do all of these amazing traditions and I over-packed our days like a too-small gift box. Most of the well-intentioned activities I had planned fell by the wayside. I felt like a failure, and I promised myself that a too-busy Christmas wouldn't happen again.

Last Christmas I felt stirrings in my heart to make the season memorable and joyful. But discouragement and discontent crept into the corners of my heart and all I could think about was how my walls were the wrong color, my decor wasn't fitting, and how my house didn't feel like home. This was the worst Christmas of all.

But this year, I vowed, this year would be different. Despite our crazy autumn packed to the brim, Christmas glimmered off in the distant December with a promise of hope.

To read the rest of my post and discover how I am intentionally creating more joy & peace in our Christmas, take a stroll over to Simply For Real, where I am guest posting today. 

A "Less is More" Christmas

Today, on this lovely Monday morning, I have the special privilege of introducing Lynnette Sheppard who has kindly agreed to guest post here at Writing in the Stillness. 

Lynnette Sheppard lives in Arizona with her husband and five children. She loves chocolate, sunshine, trying new recipes, and curling up with a good book. She encourages others to live authentic, intentional lives that are grounded in roots of faith and simplicity on her blog, Simply for Real. You can find her on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

How a “Less is More” Christmas Can Joyfully Transform the Holidays

I come from a family where Christmas was a huge production. The grand finale featured a mountain of presents that sometimes reached almost halfway up the tree. As a child, I looked forward to it all year long.

I cannot deny that the magic was real for me back then. I could not wait to sneak out before Mom and Dad woke up on Christmas morning and attempt to count the number of gifts that had my name on them. That was usually an exercise in futility because there were so many brightly wrapped packages arranged around the majestic tree, but that did not stop me from trying.

There were many years where money was tight, but that did not necessarily result in fewer presents. It only meant that thrift and creativity was used in the acquisition of that enchanting mountain. It was the one time during the year when we were rather spoiled.

I remember feeling sorry for my friend one year because she only got one gift when I could not even name everything that I got without looking at the stash. I was sure that she was deprived of the Christmas magic that I had grown to love. For me, that magic consisted of stuff…and lots of it.

However, I also remember that, despite the amount of time, thought, effort, creativity, and money that my parents invested in order to make Christmas big and memorable, it seemed like there was always somebody unhappy after all of the gifts were opened because they did not get what they wanted. I felt bad for my parents when that happened, but I brushed those feelings aside when I looked at my own stack of gifts.

Many years later, when I had young children of my own, my husband and I decided that we no longer wanted to carry on the tradition of big Christmases. While we loved it as children, as adults we did not enjoy the frenzied shopping, endless wrapping, and staying up late on Christmas Eve to make sure that everything was perfect.

But, more than that, we did not enjoy watching our kids open one gift, look at if for a moment, and then toss it aside like it was no big deal while they waited for us to hand them something else. We wanted them to be grateful for what they received, and we knew of no better way to teach them that than to give them less.

From that point on, we told the kids (the oldest of which was eight at the time) that they would only receive one present from Santa and one present from Mom and Dad. That was in addition to a pair of new Christmas PJ’s, one new book each, and one gift from the family member who drew their name out of hat. The pile of gifts under the tree on Christmas morning became significantly smaller, and that was a beautiful thing.

The best part, however, was that the beauty extended beyond the number of presents. Not only did I feel like the kids started to appreciate their gifts a whole lot more, but we all began to enjoy the events of season more than we had in the past. Fewer gifts translated into fewer hours spent shopping and agonizing about whether we had enough. It meant that we spent much less time wrapping, and late nights on Christmas Eve with a roll of wrapping paper and tape in hand were only a memory. It meant that we worried less about how we were going to hide everything in order to keep little eyes from seeing their surprises before Christmas morning. At the end of the day, less time spent in the pursuit of stuff resulted in considerably less worry and stress surrounding the holidays.

Although the month of December will never be void of busyness, especially now that our kids are older and have their own busy schedules, our deliberate decision to simplify our gift giving has really simplified our whole approach to the holidays. It has indirectly created more time and energy to do the things that we love: watching Christmas movies, reading Christmas stories, attending concerts and plays, enjoying the magnificent lights and sounds, cooking, eating, spending time with friends and family, and focusing on the birth of Christ, which is, after all, the real reason for the season.

Because it has made a huge difference in our family, I wholeheartedly recommend a minimalist approach to Christmas for anyone who tends to feel more overwhelmed than joyful at this time of year. Less is truly more: more gratitude, more energy, more joy, and more time to focus on what matters most.

Seeking Peace.

There are just over two weeks until Christmas and all I can think about is writing "peace."

But how can I even think about writing peace when I can hardly find it amidst the afternoon chaos? Coats and backpacks are all entangled and littered on the ground, accompanied with corrected homework sheets, school newsletters and the like spread out over counter, table, and couch. I see markers under the table and coloring pages lying in piles on shelves. Everywhere I look there are paper airplanes and half-finished origami creations resting like tufts of snow. Everyone needs me at once so I can listen to their read-aloud books and sight word sheets and help with story pre-writing. Where in all of this can peace be found?

We stumble along, getting everything sorted, but after an hour I can feel my patience growing thin and I know I need to escape for just a bit. It doesn't seem practical when there's so much to be done, but it might just be life-giving. 

So with the remnants of clutter tossed, and most of the homework tucked away, the little ones go upstairs to rest with a short movie and I retreat to my bedroom. 

I fall onto my bed and let my eyes close. I take a moment to just breathe. 

I breathe in gratitude for my oldest boy who is so responsible and talented. 

I breathe out all the anxiety. 

I breathe in love for my firecracker princess and breathe out overwhelm. 

I breathe in thanks for my middle son's easygoing nature and breathe out the noisy chaos. 

I breathe in appreciation for my home with its simple white decor and vintage charm.
I breathe out any lingering unhappiness. 

I breathe in pure awe and gratitude for my Savior, Jesus Christ, whose spirit fills my home and the deepest corners of my heart.
I breathe out all remnants of distress. 

It's okay to let everything go. It's okay to give your day to the Redeemer so He can redeem you from burdened to blessed. 

And I realize this: Peace is never far away when you realize your peace comes from Christ. 

When the movie is over and my respite is ended, I return to my family with smiling eyes and a peaceful heart. I resolve anew to take a small break of spiritual whitespace on a regular basis to restore my center--my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I also commit to remembering that this peaceful center, this hub of the wheel that can only be found in Christ, can be a resting place even when I can't retreat. If I rest my heart on Him, His peace can be found even in the midst of a struggle. When the afternoon becomes an avalanche, I will draw upon my center, my firm foundation in Christ. Therein I will find everlasting peace.

So go to Him in the quiet moments and in the busy ones too. Breathe in His peace as you tuck little ones in, or peel carrots for the soup, or referee the endless quarrels. Breathe in His peace at any moment, at any time. And let His peace wrap your heart in wonder...

{I'm linking up to #onewordadvent over at Bonnie Gray's blog. I was beyond thrilled to create this week's hand-lettered badge for her link-up!}

Day 31: My Always

Can I just sincerely thank you for following along with me throughout this journey of Hand-Lettered Prints? I have so enjoyed creating these each day and offering them in my shop. I truly believe that words can change the world. And they can change our homes too. As we display inspiring words throughout our homes, and read them whenever we pass I believe it invites the Spirit to be more present in our homes and in our hearts.

As a thank you for participating in this journey with me, I am doing a giveaway for a free 8x10 of any print in my shop (excluding custom orders). To view my prints in my shop, click here. To enter, follow me on Instagram @writinginthestillness and leave a comment there with the print you would choose if you won.

May your day be filled with joy, my friends.

XOXO,
Jamie

Day 30: Tune My Heart

If you have a chance today, listen to Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. It's one of my favorite songs. Patrick and I were privileged to sing in the choir during my graduation commencement ceremonies. We sang this song. The lyrics are so powerful and perfect that nothing I could write would add any value. So I will simply quote the lyrics below:

Come, thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace.

Streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise.

Teach me some melodious sonnet sung by flaming tongues above;

Praise the mount, I’m fixed upon it, mount of thy redeeming love.

Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by thy help I come,

And I hope by thy good pleasure safely to arrive at home.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.

Jesus sought me when a stranger wandering from the fold of God.

He, to rescue me from danger, interposed His precious blood.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.

O to grace, how great a debtor, daily I’m constrained to be!

Let thy goodness like a fetter bind my wandering heart to thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.

Seal it for thy courts above.

May our hearts ever be tuned to sing His everlasting grace.

Day 29: Life Moments

We visited my Gram and Pop this past weekend and so I brought along my hand-lettering supplies to create prints. As I was drawing, Pop brought out his notebooks where he has recorded hundreds of quotes, poems, and thoughts. He read me a few and I fell in love with this one instantly (along with others that I will be hand-lettering in the future).

Thank you for teaching me this, sweet Pop. And thank you for sharing thousands of moments with me and my family. We will treasure them always.