Abide. 31 Days of Resting in Him (October writing challenge)

For the month of October I am taking on the writing challenge 31 Days--31 days of writing and posting. (Check out the challenge here.) Every day for the month of October, I will (I hope!) write and post about the same topic.
Mainly I'm doing this to discipline myself and grow as a writer, but like all writers, I hope my words can be helpful to others too. My topic is on abiding, something I have long thought about and yearned to know the secrets of. I hope you will support me and check out my blog! I will be posting my updates on Facebook, but you can also subscribe to receive my posts by email. Thanks for your support. I'd love your interaction and feedback as we do this journey together!

Day 1: When we cannot abide

Day 2: A sweetness to the soul

Day 3: Don't be the moth

Day 4: How to find rest

Day 5: Do you mean it?

Day 6: How to know a good vinedresser

Day 7: The Pulley

Day 8: From your Father, with love

Day 9: Why you can rest

Day 10: The way to become real (for Abby)

Day 11: Awake, Soul

Day 12: The way to abide, part 1

Day 13: The way to abide, part 2

Day 14: Yield yourself

Day 15: The way to abide, part 3

Day 16: What it takes to believe

Day 17: Fixed on the little things

Day 18: What are you seeking?

Day 19: Seeking a homeland

Day 20: What happens to people who pray

Day 21: Right here

Day 22: Breathing lessons

Day 23: Counting the cost?

Day 24: The way to abide, part 4

Day 25: Faces unveiled

Day 26: When you want to know who you really are

Day 27: No matter what

Day 28: Four good reasons to prune your vines

Day 29: It's a relationship

Day 30: Are you missing the best?

Day 31: Five things you should know about abiding

To my children: Simple truths I want you to know

Dear Children,

When you were born I had these grand hopes of filling a journal for each of you with all my thoughts, prayers, and wisdom—lavishing my love upon you with words that someday maybe you would treasure.

I still have those hopes, but turns out that my life has been a whole lot messier than I thought. I didn’t want you to see those messes. I kept waiting for time to get it right, to make the words brimming inside me all sweetness and light instead of confusion and survival.

And now you are growing up much, much too quickly, and what you have from me instead is a lot of empty pages.

I blamed it on lack of time but maybe the real reason is fear. Moms are supposed to have it all together. (I mean, I thought my mom always had it together.)

But leaving you empty isn’t doing you any good, and if I wait to have the “right” things to say, I’ll never say anything. Messy is just how it is. And if I want you to know anything, I want you to know truth. You already see my messy every day anyway.

What I can tell you, what I should have been telling you all along, is that messy can be glorious. And you need to know this because as much as I want to shield you from hurt and yuck and loss, you will have your own messes too.

And what I want for you—what I pray for every single day—is for you to bring Christ into your messes.

You don’t have to get it all right all the time. Messing up is OK. In fact, I want you to mess up so you understand before I did that perfection isn’t possible. And it isn’t what makes me love you.

It isn’t what makes God love you.

You can never be perfect, and you can never do enough to make God love you. He loves you already, because you are His beautiful creation.

Sometimes I think I will die from loving you so much and Christ, He already did that. He died for love of you. Messes and all. And I just want you to believe that.

To believe in His love.

When we believe in His love for us, when we really hold fast to it, the messes don’t matter. God says that belief is more precious than gold (1 Peter 1:7). And “though it is tested by fire…”

It will be tested. A lot, maybe.

Then it “may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:7).

This. This is what I pray you will someday see in me. This is what I pray I will leave you. A faith that doesn’t burn up, that grows brighter in the fire and points to Jesus.

Even when you don’t see Him.

“Whom having not seen you love” (1 Peter 1:8).

Sometimes all we see are the messes. And we wonder if He is even there. But He is there. Always. And maybe if you expect the pain and brokenness to come, if you are not surprised when life knocks all your plans to smithereens, you will more easily find hope in the brokenness. You will see the gifts He gives and gives to show us the way to hope. And you will see that God can use you more after you are broken than before. Because your brokenness shows you how much you need him.

His plans for you are so much better than your own.

I don’t relish the messes, and I’m not looking forward to more of them. But I am looking forward to watching you grow toward Him. I’m praying every day that you will see His blessings winding and weaving about you, holding all the broken pieces together and creating something beautiful.