Weary Soul

Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul

1. Dear refuge of my weary soul,
On Thee, when sorrows rise
On Thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies
To Thee I tell each rising grief,
For Thou alone canst heal
Thy Word can bring a sweet relief,
For every pain I feel

2. But oh! When gloomy doubts prevail,
I fear to call Thee mine
The springs of comfort seem to fail,
And all my hopes decline
Yet gracious God, where shall I flee?
Thou art my only trust
And still my soul would cleave to Thee
Though prostrate in the dust

3. Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face,
And shall I seek in vain?
And can the ear of sovereign grace,
Be deaf when I complain?
No still the ear of sovereign grace,
Attends the mourner's prayer
Oh may I ever find access,
To breathe my sorrows there

4. Thy mercy seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat
With humble hope attend Thy will,
And wait beneath Thy feet,
Thy mercy seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat
With humble hope attend Thy will,
And wait beneath Thy feet

Who, ME?

About a month ago, Kim Kargbo emailed me about volunteering part time for Women of Hope International. They needed someone to commit to doing their administrative assistant work and help keep them organized.
WOHI is a mission organization started by two incredible women, Kim and Kelsey Martin. Its purpose is to minister to women in Sierra Leonean who have disabilities.
That being said, although I gave both of them the thumbs up for their willingness to give up everything for the sake of the gospel and its power to transform the lives of the women of Sierra Leone... I sure as hell (and I mean hell) did not see this being what God was calling me to do.

So I did the right thing, I lied and said I'd "prayerfully consider."

Now I must insert a prequel to my story so you can better understand my hesitation. Ever since Isaac was six weeks old, I've been keeping an eye out for different part-time work. I had some experience cleaning (being type-A, anal retentive, obsessive compulsive about cleanliness being my main recommendation) and thought maybe I could clean a couple of houses a week. Not too time consuming, but certainly a small form of income. I hadn't made much effort in this area, but was keeping my eyes and ears open for any at-home part-time job opportunities. This being in the back of my mind, I just knew God wanted me to contribute to the house-hold income in some way. I was simply waiting for the right scenario to present itself.

A week after receiving Kim's email, having successfully avoided any real time with God by offering up light, non-committal prayers here and there, I felt an urging in my heart to do what I had said I would do. Pray. I sat down to do so thinking, "well at least I already know the answer to this one. No harm in keeping a promise."

As soon as I lifted up my obligatory prayer, I heard the Holy Spirit say, "have I ever let you starve? Have you not always had a roof over your head, clothes to wear, food to eat? Stop being so doubtful of my goodness and reluctant to serve. I do and will provide for you and your family, whether or not you are generating income!"

Well, I had my answer.

After repenting of my cowardice I emailed Kim and told her after much prayerful consideration, I had decided to accept her offer and would love to be a part of WOHI.

I am two weeks in now and can't be more thankful for the blessing and privilege it has been to be a part of this ministry. God is using it in my personal life in more ways than I would have ever been able to foresee (surprise). Seeing Him use Kim and Kelsey's passion for the Sierra Leonean women for His glory is both encouraging and convicting. We constantly get to witness His provision and movement as He uses weak vessels for His glory. A small and unexpected bonus is that Isaac is a much happier baby when he gets to be around other people during the day. (What a little extrovert!)

If you want to read more about what God is doing through Women of Hope, Int., check out their website: http://www.womenofhopeinternational.org/

Oh Thou Elusive...

Sleeping has never been my strong suit. With the onset of motherhood, my relationship with sleep has changed. Isaac's ability to (sometimes) sleep through the night has brought some relief... but I still find myself awake at 5:00 a.m., waiting for a cry to stir me from my cozy bed.
It is strange how a few weeks awake every 2 to 3 hours will alter you perspective on the amount of sleep you need. Before Isaac was born, I believed I required eight hours a night and at least one nap on the weekend. Now I know I can make it with 4-5 hours and an occasional nap while he naps.

I find myself daydreaming about a Saturday holed up in bed, not leaving my retreat except to brew coffee and stock up on books.

I'm am beginning to wonder if the hardest part comes first (waking every 2 to 3 hours) so that you know, when the self-pity starts to set in: today is not the worst-I have been more tired than this!
There are many evenings when I'm tempted to be anxious about the amount of sleep I may or may not get. I love this puritan prayer from The Valley of Vision, a collection of prayers:

Blessed Creator,

Thou hast promised thy beloved sleep;
Give me restoring rest needful for tomorrow’s toil;
If dreams be mine, let them not be tinged with evil.
Let thy Spirit make my time of repose a blessed temple of his holy presence.

May my frequent lying down make me familiar with death,
the bed I approach remind me of the grave,
the eyes I now close picture to me their final closing.
Keep me always ready, waiting for admittance to thy presence.
Weaken my attachment to earthly things.
May I hold life loosely in my hand,
knowing that I receive it on condition of its surrender;

As pain and suffering betoken transitory health,
may I not shrink from a death that introduces me
to the freshness of eternal youth.
I retire this night in full assurance of one day awaking with thee.
All glory for this precious hope,
for the gospel of grace,
for thine unspeakable gift of Jesus,
for the fellowship of the Trinity.
Withhold not thy mercies in the night season;
thy hand never wearies,
thy power needs no repose,
thine eye never sleeps.

Help me when I helpless lie,
when my conscience accuses me of sin,
when my mind is harassed by foreboding thoughts,
when my eyes are held awake by personal anxieties.
Show thyself to me as the God of all grace,
love and power;
thou hast a balm for every wound,
a solace for all anguish,
a remedy for every pain,
a peace for all disquietude.
Permit me to commit myself to thee
awake or asleep.

What's in a Word?

Mundane.

What's in a word?

In high school, I believed mundane described my 12p-3p job. It was daily, repetitive, and not nearly as exciting as what I would be doing when I got off of work. In youth group we would pray fervently for God to show Himself to us in the mundane.
In (my short-lived) college experience, it was Monday-Friday and thank goodness for the weekends.

Mundane. I have come to know the word intimately.

Mundane: characterized by the practical, transitory, and ordinary (According to Merriam-Webster, individuals also intimately connected with the word from countless hours of word-definition, also known as dictionary-writing.)

I have lost much of my identity in the beautiful adventure of motherhood. I loved to be known for intense energy, busyness and, excuse the crass phrasing: my ability to “get ‘er done.” Recently, I’ve had no energy, very rarely leave the house, and have gotten very little done in the past 6 months (I may have cleaned the bathroom once or twice). I find myself calling Josh at work to update him on our day just to prove to someone I’ve done something of worth during the past eight hours.

Of course, there are many solutions to this emo-styled complaint. For instance, I could get a part-time job, start quilting or take an online-language course. These activities would at least increase the length of my to-do list.

Isaac: laughter (According to Genesis)

Would I give up my job as Isaac's mommy? Absolutely not. Isaac lives up to the meaning of his name everyday. It is my joy and privilege to take care of such a precious baby boy. However, when the nursing, changing diapers, hoping for a good nap, mothering, in general, overwhelms me with its repetition, I feel the multi-masked face of doubt creep in...

For today, where am I left? Pardon me, while I preach to myself.

Today, my life has value because I belong to Jesus and when God sees me, He sees Jesus’ life and work, not mine. There is beauty and life and joy in a daily routine because I am His and He is mine–praise the Lord!

Do I believe this? Let me read it again.