never alone

I love my smalls.
I LOVE MY SMALLS.
They are my best friends.
Thankful that God has given me them as gifts and as ministry partners.

This morning was a hard one for all us growing ones.  Princess Eloise asked, "Mom do you miss our home?"  I attempted to put on my positive pants and answer... she saw my wrestling and said, "I do."  It released freedom in me.  She wasn't complaining.  She loves it here, but she knows it isn't home.  It opened the door for much conversation.  All the kids sharing how joyful they are about the adventure in Ohio, but at the end of the day Bud says it best... "I miss my drums."  He misses the comforts that declare His heart.

The home we are staying in is beyond lovely... but it is a declaration of another's heart and giftings.

Our House of Hope has our Handprints on it.

I miss our smudges.  I know they won't be ours much longer, but they are today, and my heart misses the stamp of the small.

More than anything... no matter where I am on the map... no matter the home... the biggest blessing is...  I am never alone.

Today in a way that won't always be.  I have my ministry sidekicks living right under the same roof... sitting side by side with smiles.

Sure we had our quarrels just hours before, but love always overcomes.  It always wins.

No matter my view... whether the young prince and the eldest princess...

or the three lovelies together...  

sharing space with wild love in the middle.

This high calling I get to do... and I am never alone.

Be not mislead I have moments that I believe the lonely- lie and this momma's heart gets chilled with deception...  

It's during these times that I am the one that steals joy from the bigger picture... I choose to withhold the blessing of my warm eyes.

It doesn't take long though... I hate the cold remember???  Soon enough I am beckoned back into the arms of love...

Love pours from the small, and I receive the gentle reminder... I am NEVER alone.

The importance of this lesson is immeasurable... for one day much too soon... my ministry team will look different, and they will have teams of their own...  

I will grieve the days of the bickering and tears... I will miss my "get-to's."

I will miss love saying, "you're never alone" through these tiny smiles...

I may be years away from my truest home, and I am miles away from Ridgegate... but in this moment I am SAVORING...

My very heart aches with thankfulness for the small interruptions with reminding smiles that speak the Father's heart... "I am with you... you're NEVER alone."

Love's rest

There is a secret I am learning... it's a whisper that creation shouts... it's the lullaby of the Father.  It is the song that shapes all songs.  I am learning... and will spend the rest of my life learning the secret melody.

The secret is really no secret at all.  It is not hidden... yet our earthly eyes do not often choose to see, and our flesh refuses its tune.

It's the song of rest... resting in the greatest love.  Letting that love shape so we can enjoy and offer out of fullness the worship He is due.  I am just now learning the first rhythms.  I am not fully able to sing of it, but I offer what I know and am learning.

In my 35 years I have not exemplified as a woman of rest.  My arms have been linked to another, and in those arms I have been restrained from feasting at rest's table.

Christ in me since a little princess, and yet I have chosen to exercise in my own strengths.

To the world I have appeared full of strength and joy...  smile on my face and doing it "by myself."

Tools not meant to be used by the growing stretch bodies and arms not yet ready to carry the load. We  too quickly say, "Me too."  And tools meant to strengthen the ready become burdens of the small.

Bodies and heart are easily strained when trying to produce results that match others...

frustration quickly sets in and causes us to question our abilities... our very worth.

Love's calling is always offered... will I run striving's race or will I walk in rest?  

This "choosy mom"  chooses to lay down old tools and tricks and rock in the arms that call me to rest... 

Rocking the tender-needy brings delight to the Holding One.

I am overwhelmed easily. 

Lately I am in constant awe of the One that reveals the value of rest... 

I am a slave no longer... He calls me daughter... I am His heir.  

Disney dreams need not be... I am a true princess... royal by blood.

Though my world is filled with storms, my heart can hear and see Him in this embellished earth... the rainbows, the sun, the flowers, the sweet... they all sing His tune... they sing rest... "for I have crowned you with my love."

How can it be?  

He draws reminders of His affection through hands of the small just so I can hear the whisper-song... "rest."

He is not tame, but He is good... He beckons rest so I can reflect His wild.

Climbing on the lap of the Creating One... bringing my babbles... my truest form of worship...

The world shall not enjoy songs of the eloquent from my mouth... today... only gibberish.

The Daddy King adores the sounds of the learning and receives glory and honor like a kiss on the lips.

Luke 24:31 shares... the ones that greatly knew and loved Jesus were in His very presence and did not recognize Him... 

until their eyes were opened.

Praying as I learn to sing rest's song... my eyes will be opened to recognize Him... EVERYWHERE...

and my song will reflect because the seeing is more clear, and my anthem of rest will ring louder... 

HE IS LOVE...

not because of striving...

but because Love's rest shapes the learning unlike any man-made tool.  It shapes from the inside out.

premature seeds

Faith...
it's a gift...
it's also a wild invitation.
At times it is an intimate friend... other times it feels like a stranger I keep chasing.  No matter where I fall on any given day... you can trust that my heart is seeking the  increase... this princess is climbing up on the couch of faith.

Being on the couch doesn't mean I have arrived, it just means I am choosing to dwell.  

In my rest and waiting excitement grows, and I raise my hands in anticipation...

Other times they are raised in confused frustration.  My fists express the fight in my heart.

As I learn more and more I sense the call to move over and make space for the One that offers the gift I so long to receive.

Patience... it's a costly lesson.  I feel like the toddler that wants it NOW.  And I wrestle with inarticulate groans.  I can't fully communicate my enlarged desire nor can I make faith happen.  Like most things faith often needs space and time to grow.  

Growth is often gradual and slow.... stemming from small bites of nutrition, affection, and rest. 

Change... it isn't always obvious but it's always occurring. 

And then one day... while sitting on the couch of faith you notice something different... new confidence takes a seat... something that wasn't yesterday is today... and joy shines from the growing.  

I've seen first hand how God grows amazingly large blessings from tiny, premature seeds.  Seeds that weren't ready but were called forth.  

Maybe like Charli, I don't have to be fully devoloped in order to bring life's blessing.  Maybe all my incubated gifts can still be used for the Kingdom.  It seems I have believed a lie regarding my story... gifts that aren't at full gestation don't have value...  they don't yet have life.

Many faith pictures fill the walls of my home... one piece of art has been a real piece of work... but her story speaks.  It offers truth to the lies... it calls me to see beauty in the faith- small but growing, and it sings over me to risk and love.  

For... skinny, scrawny, bird-like beauties grow and are just as much full of life as the 40 weekers... they just need extra love and tending from the One that births the life in the first place.

We all start as a tiny seed... God has different modes and speeds for everyone... when walking through Charli's beginning and in my current story I often long to get off the couch and onto the subway. 

Up until now He has been happy to hold me on the couch...  but as for tomorrow...

who knows what it will hold... for like a toddler I am known to make risky leaps of hope.

Learning through brokenness the value of ALL sized-seeds and the importance of risky leaps.  

iced over

Ok, Toto... we are not in Kansas anymore... or anywhere familiar for that matter.

No one is playing "Rocky-top."

And apparently someone is playing a cruel joke with the weather.  No not twisters... but crazy none-the-less.

Life is frozen solid here, and I'm not a fan.

Sure, it looks pretty from here, but don't let it fool you.  Solid sheets of ice lurk beneath the beauty.  Reminds me of my heart sometimes... I can appear so soft and lovely, and yet dangerous hard lurks beneath.

Thankful for the hands that help lead no matter the condition... one step at a time.

The hands of the Daddy are strong, tender and loving.  They help open the frozen doors of our hearts.

I am a processing one.  The new food I am being offered is so rich, and yet it draws out the lies I have fed myself in the past.  Lies that have produced "freezer burn" of my soul.

No shortages of "sorrys" around here.  They are bountiful.  I long for more.

Worship is also in abundance.  

My faith hands are enjoying new freedoms.

No matter the environment I want to be fully me... learning more about this... today... I am deeply thankful for the radical.  I am a wild flower at heart.

The Daddy of the house leads, and I am eager to offer.

So ready to use my hands for the Kingdom... for the church... and yet... fighting to remember the immeasurable value of leading this flock.

My smalls wanting to bring their dance offerings of affection... and remembering

to rest in the song of love being sung over them.

Much to learn from this flock I shepherd...

They increase hunger and draw out more wild.   Always uncovering... always revealing more.

I tend to them, and they tend back ... offering grace when I feel all mismatched in this crazy heart.

It's tricky being me.  So much longing... so much wild hope... and so much struggle in the practice.

I so long to be a grown-up child in the faith... desiring to be about His fame... ONLY HIS... ALL THE TIME!

I'm on the journey with many roads yet to travel.

Singing songs of thankfulness for older siblings of the faith that offer sweet refreshment during travels.

The love offerings remind me to "keep on keeping on..." to remain open and tender and to remember... 

my Good Daddy longs to hold my hand in the frigid... and delights in protecting my heart from being iced over.

Freezing from the weather... YES... but thankful for warmth that radiates.

Here's to soft, warm hearts for all us royals today... and plentiful SONSHINE!

treasure hunt

the Vaughan peeps aren't on Ridgegate today, but we are still alive with dance.

 We are into the dance of the wild.

Last night we met our Vineyard family.  We so enjoyed the first of many heart-knitting times.  The night was full and long.  We came expectant, and before the speaker began... healing was well underway.  

It wasn't super flashy... in fact, this miracle was one that was only observed by Pastor and myself.  We witnessed freedom release its gift over our eldest princess.  As the hearts rang loud in the worship center Princess Emmiline brought her gift of dance to the King.  It was graceful, it was free... it was beautiful.  

I have been singing courage and freedom for months now.  In the first moments of being present "in the pretty good church" my eldest was released in ways I had been dreaming for quite some time.

I am thankful even now as I type.  The cravings my heart has been hungering for are now being filled.

The night started with repentance and asking for faith eyes.  I do so long for larger faith.

The rest of the night was spent expressing affection and asking for presence.

I saw the Lord move and stir in new ways, and I brought my offerings as well.  

Freedom was the theme that rang loudest in my heart.

Our Eloise boldly marched down the isle and laid her hands on the broken.  She sought healing through the asking and her tears.

Prince Bud prayed for his broken momma, and Charli offered her gifts of squawks and smiles.

It was a crazy night.  We had 4 smalls in worship service for 3 and 1/2 hours.  Princess Charli had strong opinions about how long the night ran.  The weather was treacherous.  It was like something from a movie.  Thankful for new friends that help scrape ice in dark, miserable conditions.

Today is a new day, and we continue the search for what God has.

Knowing treasure is everywhere if we'll just choose seeing eyes.

We Vaughan's are sticking our hands in the new and digging for the deep.

Their is great joy in the search and even greater joy in the discovery.

I'm into treasure and the hunts.  

I am learning more and more what it looks like to have faith like a child... and dance has been a friendly teacher.

it frees...

it softens...

It entices...

it calls for wild abandonment for everything that imprisons.  

This momma wants to be a radical... a radical that is radically FREE.

On the hunt for more treasures tonight... strength is rising as I wait.

a princess and her pen

I awoke this morning full of wondering.
Today is a different kind of day for our family.
This weekend our new church home is offering a healing conference.  I have been extremely excited about learning from the guest speaker.  My heart is hopeful.  I know my eyes will see miracles this weekend.
And so does this little princess...

All bright-eyed and beauty-bold.  She doesn't just have hope... she has hope's seed and she longs to plant.  She feels called to pray.  She wants to be used.  She is not afraid to risk... so she pens her heart on paper.... she puts on her gardening gloves, and she offers her gift.

She asks the Spirit for words, and she writes...

She risks to one she doesn't know... in her dream journal with her princess pen she scribes her heart...

And the daughter teaches the momma.  She teaches how to risk...  how to serve...  how to be the body.  She, 7 years young and braver than anyone I know, extends her willingness to be a warrior of prayer... and instrument of healing... a sidekick to the speaker.  

She is getting her "beauty rest" as I type...  getting her heart ready for the big night.   She desires sleep so she can be fresh in case her giftings are needed.  I am in love with her faith... It makes me hungry...

I am even more with her heart... so tiny and so full.  She reflects her Maker.  She desires to serve... using all of whom she is for all of HIM.  

So blessed to have little teachers everywhere.

Curious... hopeful... wondering... wanting to be like Princess Eloise and offer my gift to the unknown with wild risk.

walk and weep

This princess has been very drawn to the story of Joseph lately... more than just his story I have been captivated by his heart.

A beloved son that faced scandalous opposition, and yet favor rested firmly upon him.  Evils that were meant to destroy were used for the divine. 

The tapestry of colors appeared amuck, but from the Makers view it was marvelous. 

Joseph... a story worth reading again and again, but what woo's my heart is this...

he was a man that wept.

He wept a lot!

In spite of his hard often bitter circumstances his heart remained tender.  So tender he often couldn't control himself.  

I am drawn to the weeping heart of Joseph.

His story is great... 

his character... astounding...

his forgiveness... unheard of... 

his faith... history changing... 

his heart... a masterpiece...

but...

it's his offering of fragility that speaks loudest.

My heart sings songs of gratitude for the "Joseph" pioneers that faithfully travel the trail of tears.  I am thankful for their stories and their fight to keep the sacred tenderly alive.

Today I have wept myself...  feeling very much like a minnow swimming in Lake Superior.  Everything feels so big and I feel so tiny.  

How will this princess win the battle of learning?  My brain so small and so much new.  What does it look like to honor when wrestling with the unknown?

 My heart says to my soul as I type... "weep and walk."

No sparkles here... no sequins... no oohs and ahhs... just me, tissues, Jesus and the smalls.  All learning together... all crying out. 

Following the call to pioneer.  On my own I do not know how to do this... so I request my army of little hands to touch and pray for their momma-soldier. 

Wondering... how am I going to do, "Dayton life."  This does not feel like home.  I do not know how to get to Target.  I can barely find the bathroom where we are staying.

Truth is... my princess eyes are being distracted today by all the false evidences appearing real.  Fear.  I know in my spirit that God will supply all the grace I need when I need it.

Not my "try-harder, keep my chin-up flesh..." 

GRACE!

So thankful for grace freely given... that NEVER runs out.

Today, my resolve just feels a bit lethargic and my eyes a bit heavy with the waters of the heart.

So I ask me...

What does it look like to walk like Joseph today?  I think it looks like...

giving myself permission to weep... 

not forgetting the dreams that were sewn into me...

allowing myself to feel worn...

and...

honoring the teller of my story by...

weeping...

holding the hand of grace

and walk...

with faith eyes.

It means faith and obedience... it means deliverance and expectations.  It means that the Mighty Arms that call also lovingly hold the weeping ones.

Eyes flooded but still fixed.

I am learner of Joseph.  May my story reflect similar faithfulness... the call to walk and the call to weep.

May favor also abound.