Yesterday, Easter Sunday, I felt a gently pulling and heart's desire to go out to our land where our grandson is buried. On this day in particular, I wanted to declare Truth over where we laid him. I just needed to do it. I'll count it as part of my personal journey of grief...

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It's amazing how I can be both sorrowful and joyful at the same time. I am finding out that in Christ, these diametrically opposed emotions are intertwined with his love; together like a braid, I am surrounded by both his healing and his hope. I'm learning to walk in it...to allow God in...to hold me...and to guide me.

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So I followed the small nudging and went out to our land. Standing there with a broken heart, I let the tears fall for our little Brave, who lived 36 weeks in his momma's womb. I grieved one more time a life we will not get to see unfold. However, as I let the tears roll out and down, I also raised my hands in triumph concerning our Savior, declaring the greatest seven words in all of history, "He is not here, but has risen." (Luke 24:6) Because of this truth, I too know, Brave "is not here!" By God's grace and mercy through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, our Brave Lives!

I believe with all my heart the words of Jesus when he said, "I am the resurrection and the life." (John 11: 25) So in the field we call the Hollow, next to a small grave, I declared out loud this victory in full faith to myself, to the Enemy, and most especially to my God, Author of every heartbeat and Giver of Life Eternal.

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I stood there, with my empty arms outstretched. Weeping and rejoicing.

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And my intimate God, who is always so timely, allowed his wind to pick up and blow a powerful gust, making the "trees of the field clap their hands," as if he himself were applauding and saying to me personally, "Well done and Amen."

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I wish I could say I went home and all that remained of my emotions was joy, but that's not the way of grief. I cried a lot this Easter. Sorrow persists.

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But I can also say this from even a deeper place: in Christ, joy ultimately wins.

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This morning, still wrestling, I sat with the Lord and he kindly brought me again to the Easter story. The women were standing in bewilderment outside the tomb. After the angels declared that Jesus was not there, they said this to the women, "Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise." And they remembered his words. Luke 24: 7-8

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And they remembered his words.

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What words of Jesus do I need to remember today?

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This verse immediately came to mind because we claimed it 6 months ago, to this very day, when we lost our Brave:

‍Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. John 12:24

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Yes, I want to remember Jesus' words. I will cling to his promises. I will believe that Brave's death will speak Life...bearing much fruit for the kingdom of God. This is my ultimate heart's desire.

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Today I will remember his words, and I will let joy win.

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Mac and I just celebrated our 35th wedding anniversary! We can now finish each others sentences.

Actually, a lot of times I'm pretty certain I know what Mac is going to say before he opens his mouth.

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One thing I know for sure about him and me is this: we will never not be a work-in-progress. (The double-negative is for emphasis purposes.)

We're companions, but not without occasional small (or sometimes large) miscommunication issues.

We've had happy times for sure, but not without hiccups too.

These things are the reality of a relationship.

Another thing I know for sure is this: our marriage is worth fighting for.

In honor of longevity, I thought I'd share how Mac and I fight to keep this thing going.

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Fighting for your marriage includes:

1. Fight for your marriage by celebrating it. Wave the "us" flag on a consistent basis! It's great to have individual things going on. Mac has his interests, and I have mine; but we've learned to also carve out together time. It's easier now that we are in our empty nest years, but at the same time, it's amazing what these years have brought to our calendar. We are also in the "sandwich years" of elderly parents and young grandchildren. So we have to fight for "us time" even still. Whether it's a date or a night away or a big trip across the ocean, don't let the marriage flag fall.

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2. Fight for your marriage with prayer. Invite the power of God into your relationship. Pray for each other and with each other. One of the greatest gifts Mac and I have given "us" is praying together. When praying out loud, I hear Mac's heart and he hears mine. And most importantly, God hears our heart together. And he never fails to help, encourage, and direct us. Prayer is a divine cord that binds us together. We just have to stay the course in doing it.

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3. Fight for your marriage in a common mission. Ask the Lord to give y'all a place in which you can serve together. This doesn't have to be overly complicated. Where is your common ground? Mac and I have gravitated to opening our home up in various ways. Whether it's our adult kids who bring friends in, or our neighbors, or family members, this is something we do together. Mac gets out the vacuum, and I pray over the room and bathroom as I get it ready for the next guest.

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However long you have been together--5 years, 15 years, 35 years, or beyond, make it your ambition to keep fighting for your marriage.

This kind of fighting is a win for the both of you.

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Fight the good fight... 1 Timothy 6:12

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For more tips on marriage, check out my book: https://www.amazon.com/25-Years-Lessons-Letters-Seasoned/dp/0692072748

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I sketched this simple picture with these words in my journal the other day...

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Walk with God move mountains.

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As you can see this is two short sentences combined...And that's exactly what God is teaching me.

GOD is the one who moves mountains.

And when I walk with him, he has the opportunity to move mountains through me.

Think of Moses and the Red Sea, or David and Goliath.

Who wouldn't want to be used in these mighty ways?

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But, let's flip this question to God's perspective. He asks each of us this question:

Who of you wants to walk with me?

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There is a certain man in scripture who said, "I do!"

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His name is Enoch. He has always intrigued me.

All we know about him is found in Genesis 5:24:

Enoch walked with God, and he was not, for God took him.

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What did Enoch do in his lifetime? He walked with God.

Did he also do something as great parting a sea or slaying a giant?

We don't know.

But what we do know is what is most important: he walked with God.

Enoch's walk with God became his "mountain-moving-mantra."

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In our relationship, God is just as much concerned about the quiet waters and the green pastures

with us as he is about "moving mountains" through us. In fact, one begets the other.

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When we choose to walk with God at a slow pace, he restores us our soul.

He gives us his Spirit in full measure. He gives us his peace.

He gives us his power in our inner being!

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Let's be OK with lingering long with him in the hills and the valleys.

Let's not rush to get to the finished product, the high adventure, or the ultimate goal.

Let's refocus our gaze on our Savior who walks by our side with mercy and grace.

Let's relax.

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Life is in the moment, no matter how mundane or small it may seem, especially if you

are cherishing who you're with and saying a prayer over them at the same time.

Now that's power, both for both the present and the future.

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Let's be like Moses, and like David.

But let's also be like Enoch.

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Walk with God move mountains.

I needed a weekend to pull away.

It had been a month since my husband Mac and I received news via a family text from our son Davis. His wife Acacia, 36 weeks pregnant, had just had an ultrasound due to her not feeling the baby move for a little while.

The text read:

"Very sad news

Baby is stllborn

His name is

Brave Rutherford Baxter."

Needless to say, we were stunned. Acacia's pregnancy had been text book perfect. Strong heartbeat throughout for both Mama and baby. The news on October 20, 2024 took us all by complete surprise.

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I grieved for Davis and Acacia. I grieved for my other adult kids who were processing it all. And I grieved for us as a family. I was tired in every way. So, with Mac having plans to be out of town for the weekend, I seized the opportunity to grieve on a personal level. I kept saying to myself, "I need to go deep into the heart of God." Thankfully by God's grace, I was not saying "I need to go deep into the pit of despair."

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Over these two days, I took to the Lord, the painful memories of the first week that we spent with Davis and Acacia after receiving the tragic news. I asked the Lord to show me where he was in each of these hard places. I did not doubt his presence, but I just needed him to give me more clarity in some way, that even in the dark, his love was there.

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I will share one of many places that I brought to the Lord:

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My son Brent (Davis' brother) and I drove from Nashville to the hospital in Charlotte on the day Acacia was induced. (Mac would fly in later). My heart broke for her as she labored all day long. Meanwhile, we drove all day, having to take alternate routes due the Helene hurricane damage. My eyes kept burning from the mix of the bright sunshine on our windshield and my intermittent salty tears. My throat stayed tight with a ready sob at any minute. While we drove, Brent and I prayed for LIFE, believing in the Author of it. We hoped against hope that little Brave would "come out crying."

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We arrived around 9pm, just before Acacia delivered Brave. I tapped gently on their door, room 8611, and stepped quietly in. A curtain blocked my view, so I, with permission, peeked my head around it to let them see that we had arrived. The sight of these two, Acacia in the bed, and Davis by her side--somber instead of excited, sadness instead of joy, dark instead of light, was a weight of grief that I almost couldn't hold. I tucked it way down inside so it wouldn't buckle me right then and there. I needed to be strong for them. I lovingly waved my hand to Davis, nodded showing support, and stepped out of the room.

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It is this memory and others like it that I had to go deep into the heart of God and ask, "Where were you, God? Show me your tender love for these two. Where is your light in this dark place? Show me your glory."

His answer to me was this:

They were under the shadow of my wings. With these words, peace flooded in.

I looked up Scriptures that referenced God's people being underneath his wings, and there are many.

Psalm 57:1-2 is fitting for what was happening on October 21, 2024 in room 8611 with Davis, Acacia, and little Brave:

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"Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge, till the storms of destruction pass by."

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Yes, a dark storm was in that room. Destruction was present.

But so was God.

And God always has the final word.

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I know we are called to walk by faith, not by sight, but when I put the living Word into this scene, my mind's eye is able to see Jesus himself holding Davis and Acacia, with his loving arms wrapped around both of them. They were underneath his protective care. And his presence, his light, overcomes the darkness.

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I choose to no longer view this memory without the living Hope being present in the midst of it. Davis and Acacia, in their deepest sorrow, were being tenderly embraced by their loving Savior. And he holds the ultimate victory, life eternal.

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Thank you, Lord Jesus, for leading me to your healing words of truth.

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Whew, nobody forewarned me about "adult children." The term alone is an oxymoron. Our kids are "all gown up," out there in the world, but our hearts are as bound to them as when we were holding them in our arms as infants.

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So, how do we love them well at this juncture in their lives?

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Having been in this stage now for over a decade, with two children in the 20's and two in their 30's, plus gaining 3 more children with their respective spouses, I have had plenty of opportunity to experience trial and error in parenting on this journey. Along with their triumphs and blessings each child has also gone through heartache, hardship, and loss in some way. (One year in particular was even labeled "the year of tears" by two of my children. A tough year for sure.) Watching them go through these things is hard on a momma's heart.

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When looking at this journey in an overarching way, I have 3 insights that God continues to remind me when navigating my adult children's highs and lows:

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1. Be patient. I must remember that God is not done. He is always working. When I think of my own life-experience as a 20-30 year-old, I marvel at both my immaturity and insecurity. But this is where God met me. He was gracious and compassionate in my toddler-like-walk with him. He used my circumstances (dashed dreams as an athlete, loneliness as a resident's wife, sadness of 2 miscarriages, drama in my family of origin) to cause me to run to him. He wooed me to his love. He used ALL of these things to mature me, showing me that he is my ALL in ALL. I must remember and take hope that he will do the same for each one of my children.

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2. Be prudent. Set healthy boundaries...no helicoptering. I've learned that when they are ready, they'll talk. I need to be a safe place for them to share their heart, listening first, all the while praying for the Lord to speak his wisdom through me. I must resist the strong temptation to fix it for them, whatever "it" is. The best thing I can ever do for them is to point them to Jesus. His word is life-giving in every way.

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3. Be prayerful. Prayer is never wasted time, whereas worry is only that. So I must remember to keep prayer as a daily priority; my words to God about my children are loving my children in supernatural ways. This morning I was convicted to get on my knees for one of my adult children in particular. God can do things that I certainly cannot! Ask without doubting and wait expectantly for his answers. Don't forget to thank him when and how he chooses to answer. Share with your children all that you see that God is doing in their lives. It will strengthen their faith.

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Be patient.

Be prudent.

Be prayerful.

Your adult children are a beautiful work in progress, as are we.

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(Jesus) left Judea and departed again for Galilee. And he had to pass through Samaria. So he came to a town of Samaria called Sychar, near the field that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob's well was there; so Jesus, wearied as he was from his journey, was sitting beside the well. It was about the sixth hour. A woman from Samaria came to draw water.  John 4:3-7

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Have you ever felt unworthy? Unworthy of love? Unworthy of acceptance? Unworthy of forgiveness?

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The Samaritan in this passage felt this way. She was an outcast, coming to draw water from the well alone, apart from the other women who judged her for her wayward lifestyle. The woman was caught in a cycle of sin that she just couldn’t seem to step out of. Therefore, she wore shame as her cloak, every day.

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But then her Savior drew near. Scripture says, Jesus had to pass through Samaria. Why? Because he had a divine appointment with this woman. He knew the exact hour that she would be there so he planned accordingly. He knew everything she had done in her past and everything she was currently doing in her present. He spoke kindly to her; he spoke wisely to her; he spoke truth to her. He offered her life, True Life. Looking at the well that they were sitting beside, he said, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:13-14).

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And the woman, desperate for an escape from the repetitive cycle she was caught in, said, “Sir, give me this water…” (John 4:15). So he poured and kept pouring.

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Just like this woman, do you believe that Jesus wants to sit with you, no matter what condition you are in? Messes are the Messiah’s forte. Scripture says, The Lord longs to be gracious to you, and therefore He waits on high to have compassion on you (Isaiah 30:18). Sit with him and talk with him. Let him talk to you. Receive his living words that will both wash you and regenerate you.

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Your thirst will never be quenched until you drink in the love of Jesus.

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When the conversation had come to an end, the woman left not only her waterpot but also her unworthy disposition behind, and ran to the town shouting with joy, “Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ? And the conversation spread! Scripture goes on to say: many Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman's testimony. (John 14:29, 39)

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The Living Water is not just for this one woman. Come and drink.

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You are worthy, because of your Savior. He has drawn near.

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