I still don’t really get it

I still don’t really get it

Do you ever wonder if your kids really get it? Like the heart behind giving. Or why the new kid in school needs a friend. We spend so much time sharing information and trying to steer them in the right direction, but how do we know when they really get it?

Other moms tell me we will know when they are grown. But sometimes we will get small glimpses of what has sunk into their heart, hopefully now.

Take the drawing above.

It was the artistry of my five-year-old son. This son doesn’t like when we read the Bible at night and doesn’t care to pray when invited. It seems as if he isn’t getting it.

However, it was his own idea one day to make this drawing for his Dad.

And as I gazed at this drawing hanging over my husband’s desk, I thought to myself, I think he gets it.

I noticed the dark clouds overhead, but the sun still shining above. It struck me that he drew a body upon the cross with two crosses on either side. And that man in the middle, well, he had a sad face. He was not happy. And it looks as if his hands are open and reaching up to heaven.

As I studied this drawing it awakened hope within my heart because I thought to myself, I think he is getting it.

Meanwhile while my five-year-old is getting it, it dawned on me that I still don’t really get it. This moment that is.

A moment where my savior was spat at. Bullied. Taunted. Abused.
A moment where he lugged a full timber upon his back that was gashed open from his whipping and torment.
A moment where nails were hammered through his very wrists and feet, piercing his skin and forced through his bone.
The moment where he drew in and exhaled his last breath. Giving up his spirit.

It was a moment in a story that my brain still can’t fully wrap around. A story that still has another chapter. Or two to be written.

I just still really don’t get it.

So this is my prayer as we head into Good Friday and I invite you to make it yours too.

I want to know Christ and experience the mighty power that raised him from the dead. I want to suffer with him, sharing in his death, so that one way or another I will experience the resurrection from the dead! Philippians 3:10-11 NLT

I want to know Christ. Experience his power. Father, help me suffer with Jesus and feel his death. So that I might experience his resurrected life in mine. Daddy, help me really get it.

That’s my prayer.

Praying you have a powerful and worshipful Easter weekend.

Blessings to you and your family, Erin

Get Rid of Insecurity Once and For All

Get Rid of Insecurity Once and For All

We were awaiting the priceless silence to settle into our living room after my husband and I had finally gotten our four littles to bed. I was looking forward to my first adult conversation of the day, when all the sudden we both heard…


Looking at each other, we both simultaneously asked, “Does it sound like water is running?”

In opposite directions, we hustled through our house to conclude that no faucets were on inside at least. However, we could clearly still hear water running throughout our pipes.Continue reading

3 Ways to Help Our Kids and Ourselves Return Well to School

3 Ways to Help Our Kids and Ourselves Return Well to School

His eyes appeared crimson and glassy as my son stepped off the bus. It was his third day of First Grade at a new school and I asked him if he’d been crying. His response, “Mommy, I just got punched in the stomach by another kid.”

Silence was all I could offer as I noticed my heart sinking and my anger rising. All of the sudden that free, convenient golden transporter became a conduit of smashing my son’s spirits and another arena I couldn’t control.

What do you do when a grade, a kid, a girl, a rejection from a sports team, mean words, or anger-filled actions push their way into your child’s life crushing their spirit and making them feel alone?

How can they know who they are, hear words of encouragement, and not feel lonely in those scary moments?

How can you have peace as you release your child into a world filled with pain, disappointment, and darkness?Continue reading

Sacred Moments Surrounded by Dirty Dishes

On one of the first mornings of December we weren’t running every which way, I found myself dancing in my kitchen surrounded by dirty dishes. Breakfast preparations still out. Mounting dishes from previous meals. An abundance of hosting items that had no room on my shelves. Last night’s make up still etched on my face and a myriad of pressing seasonal preparations to engage in.

But with my 9 month old and 2 year old in my arms a sacred moment it became.Continue reading