Don't let setbacks steal your hope.

You know the stress you feel when your wallet is missing, or how much anxiety can rise up in you when you can't find your keys and you needed to be out the door ten minutes ago?  And then...the traffic jam that is almost guaranteed to follow?

Maybe it's that feeling when you're trying to get a really awesome dinner ready before your husband walks in the door and all of your kids are melting down around your ankles.

Or when you've got a rare moment to talk with that person whom you so highly respect, and then you say something really dumb...and you try to recover by throwing out a few more sentences that you'll run through your head a thousand times later, wishing you had just. stopped. talking.

Well, no matter how much you might be sweating while they're happening, those moments aren't the end of the world.  Life keeps on moving whether you're late or not.  Your family will survive if dinner if the chicken is dry and the would-have-been alfredo sauce tastes a little like Elmer's glue.  The person you said those silly things to probably doesn't even remember your conversation now.  And, it won't even kill you to apologize later if you decide that one of the silly things you said was actually insensitive or offensive.

Setbacks.  We all have them.  

It's October 19th.  A year ago today, a seemingly small twisted ankle changed my life forever.  I've been planning an anniversary post for you!  To share with you how incredibly well I've been doing.  To update you with how I've been walking nearly pain-free.  How I feel like I've gotten my life back.  It's been amazing.

And, as it turns out, I get to share some different news with you, instead.  About an unexpected relapse.  

A setback.  

Our prayer is that this is just minor...that it will turn back around quickly.  But as the pain has increased and my walking has decreased over the past two weeks, my emotions have taken a hit.  This is certainly not what I was expecting.  We knew that it was the nature of the disease.  But I had almost forgotten that I even had it.  It was just this slightly annoying thing that I had to routinely take medicine for.  

It may get worse.  It might turn right back around and level out again.  And as much as I don't want to have to think about the possibility of having to "walk" the road where I can't physically walk again, I trust God.  

This disease is pretty lame.  

And I've faced all sorts of setbacks because of it.  Some little.  Some pretty huge.

But I'm not going to let a setback set me back.  I won't let it steal the hope that I have.  

And you don't have to let setbacks set you back, either.

Setbacks can tempt us to stop.  Or to look back.  But what would happen if we kept on looking forward, even in the setbacks?

I know, it can seem impossible to tear your focus away from whatever is setting you back in this moment or in this season.  But, the Bible makes so many promises of hope to us if we know Jesus and give our lives to Him.

Here are a few of the reasons for the hope that I have.  Some of the truths that I coach myself through (over and over and over) when things get hard:  

• This won't last forever.
• When you meet Jesus face-to-face, you won't have any more pain.  Ever (Revelation 21:4).  
• God's love for you is always stronger, closer, more overwhelming.
• No setback of any sort can separate you from God's love (Romans 8:39).  
• God will comfort you through everything, and you'll be able to comfort other people with the same comfort you receive
• (2 Corinthians 1:3-5).
• God knows what you need and will always give it to you.
• (Philippians 4:19)
• Suffering makes you stronger, and you can consider everything JOY because of that. 
• The testing of your faith develops perseverance in you (James 1:2-4).  
• Knowing Jesus is hope.
• His love, His power, and what He can do for you and in you and through you is far beyond anything you could ask for or imagine. (Ephesians 1:17-23, 3:14-21).  

Then, I pick Bible verses that help me remember, and I write them down and put them in a places where I'll see them as I go throughout my day.

And I put songs in the background that drive the truth even deeper.

If you want more strategies for hanging onto hope and choosing joy, I'd love to have you walk in a new direction with me.  

What could joy--in every step--do for you life?

I'm getting ready to launch ToChooseJoy.com on November 25th, 2015.  

It's the new home for my blog, but it's much more than that...

Here's a sneak-peek into what I've got coming for you when ToChooseJoy launches:

• Interactive Audio and Video Bible Studies (including FREE digital wall art from The Shop, as well as Digital and Printable Workbooks) that you can take with you on-the-go.
• Access to FREE e-books, as they release, on all sorts of topics to help you focus and to fix your eyes on Jesus through the hectic, constant, surprising nature of your day-to-day life.
• The Shop, where you can find inspiring prints and custom canvases.
• Guidance on your spiritual journey, empowering you to strategically place the truth in your unique life--right where you need it most.

If any of that sounds interesting to you, I'd love for you to head over to ToChooseJoy.com right now and sign up for my email list.  When you do, you'll get a FREE digital 8x10 "Joy" print from The Shop.

Please share this post with your friends so they can come along on the journey with us!

I had no idea I was being controlled

A few minutes in, I was still thinking that the book wouldn't apply to me.

Not because it didn't start off well.  

But, instead, because I can be pretty stubborn and defensive.  And the title said that emotions might be controlling me.  Which I really didn't like.  A neat-freak to the core, I like to think that I run a pretty clean internal shop.  I was also pretty content to think that most of the challenges I was facing were primarily someone else's fault.   

When that "someone else" and I read Saving Your Marriage Before It Starts (Parrot and Parrot) back in 2009, I was just as stubborn and defensive.  I thought that I was more put-together than the people the authors were offering advice to.  I didn't want to think that any of the challenging scenarios they spoke about could actually happen to me.  Our marriage would be better than that.  We wouldn't need conflict-management strategies because we simply wouldn't have any conflict.

Ha.

I've, since then, become far too aware of my mess.  Which is good, because it has made me far more aware of my need for Jesus.  

So, as I read what has ended up becoming one of the most impactful books I've ever held in my hands--Enemies of the Heart by Andy Stanley--it happened.  I felt like my heart started to shrivel.  I was convicted to the core.  

I started to see places within myself that were being consumed by EACH of the four emotions Andy Stanley talks about in this book.  Not just one.  Not even two.  But all four.  Talk about humbling.  

He discusses four emotions:  

1. guilt, 
2. anger, 
3. greed, and 
4. jealousy.  

He talks about the destructive power that they have, and about how easily they can get hidden in our hearts and begin to damage our lives from the inside out.  

If I had been humble enough to think that I might have really needed advice for potential conflicts in marriage, I might have listened more intently to the pre-marital counseling book I was supposed to absorb in 2009.  Maybe I wouldn't have provided such a wide-open door for these powerful emotions to take their toll in my life.  In my marriage.

But, maybe those emotions were already at work.  And maybe they were actually so deeply ingrained in me that it took until a year ago--when my marriage actually started to fall apart--for the walls to come down far enough for them to rear their ugly heads.

Andy Stanley talks about how each of these four emotions has a "debt" tied to it.  

• With anger, it's "You owe me."  
• With guilt, it's "I owe you."  
• With greed, it's "I owe me."
• With jealousy, it's "God owes me."

 HUGE eye-opener:

"The common denominator in all your relational conflicts is YOU," (p. 162).

My favorite thing about this book is that it doesn't just convict you and then leave you hanging and hopeless.  It provides practical ways to confront each emotion, and biblical direction to help you fight against them.  For example, he talks about confronting anger with forgiveness because "forgiveness is the decision to cancel a debt," (p. 123).  

I love this: 

"In the shadow of my hurt, forgiveness feels like a decision to reward my enemy.  But in the shadow of the cross, forgiveness is merely a gift from one undeserving soul to another. . . When I accept forgiveness from God, I'm set free from the penalty of my sin; when I extend forgiveness to my adversary, there's a sense in which I'm set free from his sin as well, " (p. 129).

He gives incredible advice that applies to real situations in our lives and is easy to put into practice to move forward.

I've may have mentioned that I like clean things...  Sean says that "clean" is my primary love language.  As such, I was especially fond of Andy's illustration of how he has spent each of his kids' lives working with them on keeping their hearts empty of the destructive things that get lodged inside of them.  He made a routine of asking his kids questions like (p. 193), 

• "Is everything okay in your heart?" 
• "Are you mad at anybody?" 
• "Are you worried about anything?" 
• "Did anybody hurt your feelings today?"

When I learned that Sean doesn't owe me anything, I started giving him the benefit of the doubt and I was able to believe the best about him.  When I learned that I don't owe Sean anything, I was able to start to shatter the idol of perfectionism in my life.  It has come with SO much freedom and peace.  It has come with so much agreement, so much forgiveness, so much LOVE.

As it turns out, a lack of conflict wasn't the recipe for a happy marriage, like I thought for so long.  When pride really did come before a very hard and disillusioning fall, I learned that genuine humility is one of the FIRST ingredients in a healthy and thriving marriage.

The new blog and shop are almost ready to launch!  Watch for ToChooseJoy.com, opening late October, 2015.  

It's Officially Fall, and Time for Another Month of Meals

Trudging through tall grass to find the reddest apples, adding cinnamon and cloves to every recipe, cool evening air breezing through the windows, unpacking favorite sweaters, and sipping pumpkin lattes.

It's officially Fall.

We took our kids on the first long-anticipated apple picking outing of the season today.  They loved it as much as we always have, and it's fun to pass on traditions.  The trees were just babies at the farm we picked at today, so our little ones didn't get to climb like they had hoped, but that didn't touch their lifted spirits.

Sean says it's a little too early for me to make Wassail, but the smell of autumn spices still filled our home as I buried myself in the kitchen to get another month ahead on meal-making.

Last month, I told you about Once A Month Meals, which has been an incredible resource to us.  I learned a great deal about what freezes well and about how simple it really can be to get so far ahead on feeding my family.  Our kids aren't quite as culinarily adventurous as we are yet, however, so I found myself feeling like all of the wonderful new recipes from OAMM were great for the grown-ups, but didn't work as well for our particular littles.  OAMM works hard to make things kid friendly, but the amount of time we spent working to get our three-year-old (who would much prefer to survive on a strict diet of orange juice, peanut butter, and gummy bears) to just lick a taste of the new foods off of her spoon led me to the realization that we needed to go a different route this time around.

So, I created my own menu and recipes.  I paired things with similar ingredients so I could buy most items in bulk and save more money, and I was able to shave another $100 off of our monthly grocery budget!  Since I was familiar with the menu, so the shopping trip didn't seem as daunting, and I feel even better prepared for the month ahead,  because I know that my kids will eat everything (well, the peanut butter and gummy bears kid might not eat it all, but there's got to be one wildcard, right?).

Because the ingredients I used were similar between so many recipes, I was able to prep and make everything in just eight total hours, spread out through the day.

Here is what's on the menu:

• Cheddar Ale Soup (x3)
• Irish Potato & Leek Soup (x3)
• Turkey & Black Bean Soup (x3)
• Tomato Basil Bisque (x3)
• Butternut Squash Bisque (x3)
• Honey Mustard Turkey Bacon Club Sandwiches (x15)
• Mini Breakfast Egg Strata (x24)
• Pumpkin Applesauce Breakfast Muffins (x48)
• Apple Oat Breakfast Muffins (x48)
• Pizza Dough (to thaw and roll out on the day-of; x4)
• Spinach & Fruit Smoothies (x8)
• Crockpot shredded chicken (to make pasta dishes, etc. easier on the day-of; x6)
• Apple Crisp 

We absolutely love fall soups, and they freeze beautifully, so I made those the focus of my meal plan.  Another thing that we've discovered is freezable grilled sandwiches.  They make awesome lunches, and they reheat really well.  My kids love green smoothies, so I freeze the ingredients in individual bags to save time at the blender.  All of the breakfast items are kid-favorites and so quick to reheat!

Irish Potato and Leek Soup

The smell of this one always brings me back to my childhood.  My mom made the BEST cheese soup.  Ask me some day about the time when my brother, James, and I tried to make our own cheese soup in an oil lamp with perfume and stickers...

Easy smoothies--just throw in the blender and add juice or water!

I love homemade pizza.  Once the dough finishes rising, you can freeze it.

Toss a package of chicken breasts into the crockpot for 4 hours on high, shred, and freeze meal portions in small bags to add to other meals, like pasta dishes, on the day-of.

A few years ago, my beautiful friend Hannah Glidden taught me to freeze soups flat so that they can be rearranged more easily in the freezer.  Her advice has been incredibly helpful!

In honor of our apple picking day, I topped it all off with the obligatory apple crisp.

I could probably freeze part of it...but I think it will be gone before I have time...

Now, with our meals for the month made, I have more time to focus on things like this...

"...She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family..." (Proverbs 31:15).

Getting Ready To Let Go

That line from The Lion King that says, "his carefree days with uuuus are history..." has been stuck in my head all week.  As I watched my first-born run around the yard, picking a bouquet of dandelions for me, my momma-heart almost lost it.  Today is the last of these carefree days for her.  For us.  She is heading off to Kindergarten.  Off to a much bigger world than our backyard.  She's ready.  Am I?

Today, I have the honor of being featured on A Write Heart, as I get ready to let go.   Many thanks to Melissa and Colette!!  Check it out HERE and get a beautiful, FREE printable from Yellow Sparrow Studio!

The fight.

"I will waste my life,

I'll be tested and tried.

With no regrets inside of me,

Just to find I'm at your feet,

Let me find I'm at your feet.

"I leave my father's house, and 

I leave my Mother.

I leave all I have known, and

I'll have no other.

"For I am in love with you,

and there is no cost.

I am in love with you,

and there is no loss.

I am in love with you,

I want to take your name.

I am in love with you,

I want to cling to you," 

(Misty Edwards).

Those lyrics filled the room as we shared our first dance.  You carried me then.  You carry me today.  It's been six years today, but it feels like a lifetime.  

We washed each other's feet and promised to devote our lives to serving one another.  To make every effort to love like Jesus.  To die to ourselves each day--to give up, to surrender, to sacrifice--in order to lift up the other.  

We vowed that we would fight for love.  That we would fight for the covenant we made.  We vowed that we would fight through good times and hard times.  That we would fight through sickness and health.  That we would fight to the end. 

And we sure have fought.

For a while there, in that valley low, even face-to-face, we forgot that we were fighting for each other.  Facing each other became like a face-off.  We faced each other like enemies, instead of like friends.  We attacked each other, instead of attacking the problems that came against us.  We forgot what we were fighting for.  

We tried to change each other.  We both thought we were right.  We forgot that we were perfectly designed gifts from God for each other.  That we are an incredible team because of our differences, not in spite of them.  

"We" became "I."  I felt unheard.  I felt unnoticed.  I felt unloved.  But I forgot.

I forgot that it isn't about me trying to fight to get something from you--it's about me fighting to give everything to you.  I forgot that love requires me to assume the best about you.  I forgot that I am a sinner who needs forgiveness just like you--and that I can hurt you deeply without meaning to.  And in my forgetfulness--in my selfish sinful pride--I was really hurting you.  I forgot to be your biggest fan--even when I feel too weak to cheer for you.  I forgot how to be your safe place--to always protect you in the way I speak about you and speak to you.  To maintain hope in you and for you and with you.  To always trust in you and with you and because of you.  To always persevere--to know that because of Jesus, we will win.  We will make it.  We will conquer.  We will fight through.

God used wise and loving counselors who helped us to remember.  Who helped us to die to ourselves.   Who helped us to listen and really hear.  Who helped us to see.  Face-to-face in the way we once did.  When we washed each other's feet.  When we made our vows.  And we began to see each other better than we ever had seen before.  And our love became stronger than we ever could have imagined it being.

This day is a landmark.  It's the day that will always remind us of where we started.  And, this year, it's the day that we will remember as the entrance to a season of new beginnings.  Through the fight.  Beyond the fight.  Back into the good fight.  We will fight for each other.  We will fight through.  I pray that we will never forget.  That we will fight to stay at each other's feet.  That we will fight to always serve, give, die to ourselves, and love.  That we will fight to always protect, always trust, always hope, always persevere.  

Happy anniversary.  

A Month of Meals in Two Days

I just finished making an entire month of meals for my family over the course of just two days!  Ready for the secret?

Here it is:  I don't enjoy cooking.

It wasn't always this way.  Before I had three children, I loved to cook.  And I still love baking, but that seems like an entirely different category.  Man cannot live on bread alone.  Or on cookies and cake and brownies alone...

I'm a wife.  And a mom.  The washing and drying and folding of laundry will never end unless people stop wearing clothes (and, while my three-year-old has mastered that art, it's not preferable in society).  The floor will get covered in Cheerios no matter how many times I mop it, and the dishes will keep on getting used.  The house will need to be cleaned again, no matter how thoroughly I sweep and scrub today.  There will continue to be grocery shopping to do and people who need rides to gymnastics and date nights to try to keep scheduling and quality family time to attempt to keep restful and trips we need to take to the doctor and the dentist, and playdates and projects and jobs and other appointments...

And, on top of all that, multiple times a day, everybody needs to eat.

I got into a rut where 3:00pm would roll around and I would sigh at the daunting task of having to make dinner.  Again.  As though it was a surprise to me that people needed to eat.  Again.  And, that's the time of day when small children seem to pull out all of the crazy.  I confess--I've begun to really appreciate nights when Sean works late because then, I get to effortlessly pour little bowls of cereal and cut an apple into slices.

Don't get me wrong--I enjoy an easy bowl of cereal with the best of them.  But, I want to be better prepared than that.  I want great tasting, nourishing meals for my family.  I want to think about things other than food.  I want more time in my life.  Don't we all?!

Enter, the solution to my not-enjoying-cooking:  OnceAMonthMeals.com.

This discovery has been such a treasure to me.  For $8 a month, I get to have someone plan my menu, my grocery shopping list, my recipes, my cooking schedule...and all I have to do is follow the instructions.  Two days.  To have a whole month of meals taken care of.  Two days.  To take a HUGE every-day-task off of my never-ending list of to-do's.

Once A Month Meals (OAMM) has nine menus to choose from--Traditional, Whole Foods, Gluten Free/Dairy Free, Allergy Friendly, Paleo, Vegetarian, Diet, and more.  The menus change every month, so everything on them fits with the seasons and what produce is most-available during a given time.  We use the Whole Foods menu for our family, and it's awesome.

Following their handy instruction sheet, I did all of the prep work in the afternoon and part of the evening on Saturday.  I chopped and diced and threw meats into the crockpot and the oven.  Then, I put it all into the fridge until Monday, when I would be able to cook it.

(Prep, Cooking, and Thawing Instructions)

On Monday, I set my kids up with a few movies and craft projects in the living room, and I went to work in the kitchen.  Everything is organized step-by-step.  You put something in a skillet while you are laying something else out on the counter and something else is cooling in a pot.  It took a total of about 8 hours to do all of the prep work on Saturday, and about 7 hours to do all of the cooking on Monday.  You can do it in less time if you have someone take your kids for the day for you. My littles stayed with me and did a great job alternating between watching 101 Dalmatians, helping me mix ingredients, and sampling the goods.

You pay the membership fee ($8 a month if you pay for a year, or $10 a month if you pay month-to-month), to have access to all of the full menus.  It's totally worth it.  The money I paid for my OAMM membership actually cut $234 off of my typical grocery budget for a month--because all of the ingredients for the recipes are so well coordinated with one another.

(Just a Handful of My Delicious Recipes for This Month)

(Instructions to Attach to Freezer Bags)

They also have mini-menus that you can try out for free.  All of the material you need for five recipes (which make 10 meals), comes right to your inbox with no strings attached.  I did this a few months ago, and loved it so much that I joined right away.  Here are just a few of the things we're going to get to eat over the next month...

I'm telling you--it is an incredible feeling to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner all taken care of ahead of time.  For a whole month!  All I have to do is pull out a few amazing "caramelized apple grilled cheese sandwich on artisan bread" and reheat it for 60 seconds, and I have lunch ready for everyone.  Or, I can toss "blackened salmon with pineapple salsa" onto the stove for 6 minutes, and dinner is done.  Many of the recipes can be put into the crockpot in the morning, too.

I'm so thankful for anything that can free up more time for me to spend with my family.  This one is definitely a keeper!

To you. You in the handicap parking spot.

I saw you.  Getting out of your car with a grin on your face.  Closing the door and strutting towards the store with your head high.  From that handicap parking spot.

I thought it.  That it was probably your grandmother's car.  How could you?  How dare you take that parking spot from someone who actually needs it.

I stared.  297 days ago.

And with all my heart, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry because 297 days ago, I learned that pain is often invisible.

It's invisible in people like my dear friend with the beautiful, youthful figure and the exuberant little children and the smile that could bring up the sun.  She looks like her life might just be perfect.  But you can't see the Rheumatoid Arthritis that is ravaging her body on the inside.  You can't see that underneath her glowing skin is chronic and excruciating pain.  Pain that restricts her ability to cradle her small son or to dance with her sweet young girl.  Pain that restrains her.  Pain that would love to bury her.

And maybe today is a really good day for her.  Maybe, today, she's dancing through it.  Maybe, today, she could lift her feet onto that ottoman and rock that wavy haired baby in her arms.  But, most people wouldn't even notice the difference.  Because her pain is invisible.

If she needed a handicap spot for those good days when she can actually put her kids into the car and make it all the way to the store, so that she could protect her fragile body until the next day that probably won't be so good just because she took that trip today...would you judge her?

Is your pain invisible?  You don't look like you're hurting to me.

But, I can't see what's underneath your grin.  Maybe you're grinning because today, you're a champion.  Today, you beat the odds.  Today, you fought against that thing that has brought you so much suffering.  Today, you got up and you pressed your foot against the accelerator and you moved forward.  People might not see the pain.  But that doesn't make it less real.  That doesn't make it less chronic.  Less present.  Less daunting.

296 days ago, I was diagnosed with invisible pain.

A disease that people could see for a while, because I was bound to a wheelchair or to crutches.  A disease that people could see for a while because I lost the color in my face and my leg looked like it belonged to a zombie and I spent so much time in hospital rooms with needles in my spine and IVs in my arm.

But, I've fought.  I've fought against that invisible pain, with the God who heals on my side, and I have refused to let the pain own me.  I have pressed through the mire of months and months of that cruel and unwavering pain.  And now, I feel pretty good most of the time.  And I have my color back.  And I'm young and bubbly and generally happy.  Sure, the cost is high for a few days when I need to take a few running steps to chase my toddler when he's darting toward danger.  The cost is high for a few days when I spend a few extra minutes walking in the playground with my little ones who so desperately missed getting to play with their mommy during the hardest months when I was bound to a bed.  But, on the outside, I look like everything might just be fine.

As soon as the day came when I was cleared to cautiously drive my car again, I rejoiced in the freedom.  The freedom to carefully and painstakingly lift my three tiny children into that car.  To pull my body up and over it's still heavy bondage to that pain and buckle them in.  To hold my breath and grit my teeth and press my aching, stabbing foot into the gas pedal and make my way to somewhere.  Anywhere.  Because, finally, I could.  Freedom.  But freedom still came with constant and invisible pain.

I received my handicap permit with reservations.

The handicap permit that would make leaving the house a possibility because I would be able to limit the amount of walking I had to do--especially with three kids in tow.  Yes, I picked up that permit with fear.  Afraid of the first confrontation I might have in a parking lot with someone who thought I had borrowed my grandmother's car.  Afraid of the stares and glares of strangers who thought I looked far too well to need to park so close.  "How could she?"

I gave the stares the benefit of the doubt for the first couple of months.  I smiled, assuming that my gazers were just in their own little worlds experiencing their own kinds of struggle that caused their brows to furrow.  I smiled, because it didn't matter what anyone might have been thinking anyway if they were, in fact, looking at me.  Because, even with invisible pain, I was free enough that day to be out in the world unassisted.

And then came today.

The day of a little girl's birthday party.  My leg was aching from over-extending my newfound freedom earlier in the week.  It was difficult to press my foot against the ground.  Difficult, and invisible.  But it wasn't going to stop me.

I loaded my beautiful tiny trio into the car, and we headed to the store to select the perfect gift.  I didn't have enough time for the transplant of three little people from car-to-cart-and-back-to-car, so I carried the smaller two of my sweet ones, and my oldest held my forearm.  Ever thankful for the gift of walking and driving and holding my children, I wasn't fazed by the weight of their precious bodies against the gravity of the invisible and piercing weight that bore through my right leg into the concrete below me.

Once we had found an Elsa doll that sang "Let It Go" and had made sure to get the song stuck in every other shopper's head as we made our way to the check out, I felt pretty accomplished.  I grinned as we walked back out to the parking lot.  I strutted proudly, two giddy kids and an Elsa doll in my arms, another giddy kid by my side.

Just outside the store, a car was pulled over to drop off an elderly woman.  A middle-aged man with silver at his temples sat in the driver's seat and a lovely nun in her habit sat beside him.  They smiled at me.

I crossed in front of them, on my way to my car.  My car that was parked in a handicap spot.  With the permit that allowed me to park there.  With the permit that allowed me so much freedom.  With the permit that allowed me a much shorter distance to travel into stores, that allowed the walk across concrete to look so much less intimidating.

And it happened.  The thing I had been so afraid of.  The thing to which I knew one day I wouldn't be able to give the benefit of the doubt.

They followed me.  The man and the nun.  They parked their car windshield-to-windshield with mine.  And they glared.  With tight, cruel faces.  Both of them.

I didn't notice it at first.  I was busy wrapping the Elsa doll in pink tissue paper, to the glee of my girls.  Busy buckling babies into their carseats.  Busy pausing for long enough before driving again to rest my leg from the invisible pain.

And I looked up.  And my eyes met their eyes.

I saw it.  And my stomach turned.  But I still smiled.  And they kept staring.  Both of them--eyes fixed on me.

I fumbled with my GPS to make sure I knew where I needed to go for the party, and as I sat there, I felt their stares.  Their glares.  Burning into me.  And my stomach kept turning.  So, I allowed my eyes to meet theirs again.  And again, I smiled.

They didn't change their expressions.  I didn't change mine.

And I drove away.  And, as tears formed in my eyes because a fear had become a reality, I reminded myself of the truth that I had read earlier in the day.  The truth found in Romans 8:

"There is now, therefore, no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."

I deserve to be judged.  Fiercely and harshly and eternally.

But, it's not because of a handicap permit paired with an able-looking body.  No.  I deserve to be judged because God is perfect and His standard is perfection and I'm a sinner.  But, because of His great love for me, even in my sin, He sent His perfect Son to die in my place.  To be judged instead of me.  And then, He conquered sin and judgment and death.  And He came back to life.  For my freedom.  So that I wouldn't have to be judged like I should have been.  For my sin.  Because of how much He loves me.    

And now, I cannot be condemned.

So, I won't let myself feel that way because of someone else's judgment.  I took a moment, then, to remind my little ones of something.  Mindful, especially, of my firstborn who is getting ready to go off to Kindergarten.  To begin her school years.  Years where there will surely be pain that I cannot prevent from coming her way.  I know that every challenge is an opportunity to build character, to grow perseverance, to love others, and to please God.  But it still makes my heart ache to know that she will face trials.  That she will have days when her pain is invisible.  That there will be people who will judge her for all sorts of things that they can't see or don't understand.  I can't keep her from the trials.  But I can help her with her response.

So I reminded my little ones that Jesus asks us to love people who are against us.  To pray for people who hurt us.  That we are more than conquerors because of Jesus.  That the freedom we have is because of Jesus.

I don't want to cast judgments on others because I'm not the judge.  I deserve to be judged.  But I've been forgiven.  It's the forgiveness that I don't deserve.

"The Lord is our judge, the Lord is our lawgiver, the Lord is our king.  It is He who will save us." (Isaiah 33:22).

Today, I remembered you.  You in the handicap parking spot.  And I'm sorry.  Deeply sorry.  Because 297 days ago, I had no idea.  I'm sorry for the pain in your life that I cannot see.  I'm sorry that I judged you in my heart because you looked fine on the outside.

Please forgive me.

Keep that grin on your face.  Keep on standing tall and strutting across the parking lot when you're having such a good day that you can stand.  Stand in that freedom.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free," (Galatians 5:1).