A Prayer of Remembrance

God brought me out of slavery. He healed me from the inside out. He restored my life. He gave me manna in the wilderness, water from the rock.

Even though I still struggle, I know I am redeemed. Lord, help me to not forget you.

Deuteronomy chapter eight was hitting me hard today. Let’s read the full passage together:

“Be careful to follow every command I am giving you today, so that you may live and increase and may enter and possess the land the Lord promised on oath to your ancestors. Remember how the Lord your God led you all the way in the wilderness these forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your ancestors had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. Your clothes did not wear out and your feet did not swell during these forty years. Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the Lord your God disciplines you.

Observe the commands of the Lord your God, walking in obedience to him and revering him. For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land—a land with brooks, streams, and deep springs gushing out into the valleys and hills; a land with wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranates, olive oil and honey; a land where bread will not be scarce and you will lack nothing; a land where the rocks are iron and you can dig copper out of the hills.

When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you. Be careful that you do not forget the Lord your God, failing to observe his commands, his laws and his decrees that I am giving you this day. Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. He led you through the vast and dreadful wilderness, that thirsty and waterless land, with its venomous snakes and scorpions. He brought you water out of hard rock. He gave you manna to eat in the wilderness, something your ancestors had never known, to humble and test you so that in the end it might go well with you. You may say to yourself, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.” But remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth, and so confirms his covenant, which he swore to your ancestors, as it is today.

If you ever forget the Lord your God and follow other gods and worship and bow down to them, I testify against you today that you will surely be destroyed. Like the nations the Lord destroyed before you, so you will be destroyed for not obeying the Lord your God."

Oh Lord, I confess I am quick to forget you.

So quick to forget the slavery you brought me out of, and to even wish things were as they used to be. Just the Israelites, who wished they were back in Egypt where they ate good food – forgetting that’s where they were slaves! I look at the manna you have given me, God – food to eat, an apartment to live in, a loving husband and a stable job for him, two beautiful children – and I long for other provisions. Why can’t I have better food, a better home, more alone time, more money, the ability to travel, etcetera, etcetera?

I turn to other gods in worship. I want my own comfort, my control, my security. Yet, Yahweh alone is worthy of my worship. He gives me my daily bread, every day. His mercies are new every morning.

How quickly I forget.

If I had all the desires of my heart, all my sinful desires for a more comfortable life, a more robust bank account, a perfectly mapped-out five-year plan, how much easier would it be for me to abandon God altogether?

“He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your ancestors had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.”

Help me to remember, God, that you are all I need. That, in fact, I deserve nothing. I am a sinner, and I deserve death. But God, you gave Your Son’s life for me. You made a way in the wilderness, streams in the desert. You started something new!

When I hold my baby, hold a bag of groceries, and hold my toddler’s hand as we walk up the stairs to our apartment, Lord, give me a heart of gratitude.

Thank you for my squirmy baby.

Thank you for my rambunctious toddler.

Thank you for this bag of food to eat.

Thank you for strong arms to carry these things.

Thank you for strong legs to walk up and down stairs.

Thank you for a roof over my head, heat to keep us warm, and beds to sleep comfortably each night.

Thank you for saving me and giving me a seat at the table You’ve prepared for me.

Change my heart, God. Remove my heart of stone and give me a heart of flesh.

Help me praise you in all circumstances.

In Jesus’ name, I pray.

Amen.

Pressing Pause

I’ve been pretty silent here and on social media since my daughter was born. The transition to two children has been simultaneously beautiful and wild, and 2021 was one of the best and hardest years I’ve experienced so far. Insomnia, postpartum depression and anxiety, and Covid brought hardship, while some other things that I’m not ready to talk about publicly yet led to deep restoration within our family.

This week, I finished reading Jodi Picoult’s latest novel, about a Manhattanite stuck on a tropical island as the Covid pandemic hits New York City and the world. The main character shares a realization halfway through the book that resonated with me during this season:

Here, I can’t lose myself in errands and work assignments; I can’t disappear in a crowd. I am forced to walk instead of run, and as a result I’ve seen things I would have sped past before—the fuss of a crab trading up for a new shell, the miracle of a sunrise, the garish burst of a cactus flower.

Busy is just a euphemism for being so focused on what you don’t have that you never notice what you do.

It’s a defense mechanism. Because if you stop hustling—if you pause—you start wondering why you ever thought you wanted all those things.

As a former New Yorker who traded deadlines for diapers, I so feel this! It’s not that I’m not busy anymore but that I’ve stopped hustling. My productivity looks different. (I’ve talked about this before.) And since giving birth to my daughter, I’ve finally allowed myself to pause.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been striving. I’ve been working to answer the question, “Am I enough?” Having a lot on my plate and pushing myself to be “the best” is the easy way out for me. But focusing on the present and finding contentment in Christ alone? That’s a lot harder. That’s when I start to gaze at myself and wonder if I measure up.

Perhaps you can relate to the thoughts below, some of which are my own and others are what I’ve heard from friends:

• If I'm not freelance writing and continuing my professional career, am I enough?

• If I’m not blogging and sharing God’s Word publicly, am I enough?

• If I’m not exercising regularly, am I enough?

• If I’m still single and so desire to get married, am I enough?

• If I’m struggling with infertility, am I enough?

• If I’m living paycheck to paycheck, am I enough?

• If I keep getting passed up for that promotion, am I enough?

• If my relationships are on the rocks, am I enough?

• If I don’t have enough saved for my kids’ college and my retirement, am I enough?

• If I don’t know what God thinks about me, am I enough?

Friend, you are enough.

In Jesus, you are enough. Christianity is the only religion in the world that says you don’t have to do it all, you don’t have to check off all the boxes, because God already has. He is the perfect one, not you. He created you, purposefully and intentionally. You are precious in His sight. And He guarantees (yes, guarantees!) your salvation through your faith and His grace. Not through anything you’ve done or anything you feel.

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the bodya and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. (Ephesians 2:1-10)

I’m so thankful for God’s grace and for the reminder that I am enough, even when I don’t feel like it. That I can come to Him with all my burdens and worries and find rest (Matthew 11:28-30).

My prayer this year is to live more like Jesus. In the words of Kristi McLelland, I want to stare at God and only glance at myself. “He must increase, and I must decrease.” (John 3:30) Yes, yes, yes. Thank you, Father.

Writing for "What to Expect"

How I Navigated the Postpartum Period While Recovering From an Eating Disorder

I’m so grateful and honored to share my story with “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” I’ve written a lot about my pregnancy experience, but I felt it was particularly important to share about the postpartum period. For me, becoming a new mom and experiencing all the physical and emotional changes that come postpartum was much harder than I was anticipating. After recovering from anorexia nervosa, I found my post-pregnancy body brought up new challenges and thoughts. I also had more anxiety and fear crop up. And at the same time—I felt happier and more fulfilled as a mom than I could have ever imagined.

I hope and pray my essay encourages you, wherever you’re at in your motherhood journey. Thanks for joining me!

Hope in the Midst of Unmet Expectations

“May the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge, reward you fully for what you have done.” (Ruth 2:12, NLT)

I had our first year of marriage all planned out. 

Romantic dinners, walks in the park, coffee dates, and Sundays side-by-side at church. 

Instead, our year looked vastly different. Shortly after our honeymoon, my husband began working nights. The job slowly ate away at him and often hit 80 hours per week. We hardly saw each other. 

“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Psalm 13:1a, ESV)

I wonder if Ruth ever felt the same way. 

After losing her father-in-law, brother-in-law, and husband, Ruth boldly chose to stay by her mother-in-law Naomi’s side. 

“For wherever you go, I will go, and wherever you live, I will live; your people will be my people, and your God will be my God.” (Ruth 1:16b, HCSB)

Her loyalty comes amidst desperation. Ruth had witnessed Naomi’s faith in Yahweh. She was willing to leave behind her family and homeland to follow the Lord. And she had hope He would deliver them.

God wrote Ruth’s story, and once in Bethlehem, He brought her to Boaz’s field. Boaz protects her, ensuring she and Naomi have food. He blesses her:

“May the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge, reward you fully for what you have done.” (Ruth 2:12, NLT)

Ruth’s unwavering faith in the Lord is so encouraging. Through every season, we’re called to seek refuge under the shadow of His wings.

This young woman had no idea Boaz was one of Naomi’s “kinsman-redeemers.” She was simply obeying God. Later, she humbles herself at Boaz’s feet, requesting marriage. Boaz selflessly takes Ruth as his bride and vows to sacrificially care for her. This is huge! God’s providence leads Ruth—a poor widow and foreigner—to Boaz. She gives birth to a son, and God puts Ruth in the genealogy of Jesus. 

Naomi and Ruth had no home, security, or hope. And God provided. 

He’s not left us without a Redeemer. He cares for us as individual women, no matter our background or circumstance. During marital hardship, poverty, fear, disappointment, and death, God is still present. He’s full of lovingkindness, and He’s provided our ultimate Kinsman-Redeemer in Jesus Christ.

My marriage didn’t improve overnight. My husband’s job wore us down and disappointed us.

But God never did. He was always there, pointing me to stories of hope like Ruth’s.

He showed us dashed expectations can be a very good thing and His plan is much better than ours. Ten months into marriage, I gave birth to our son, an unexpected, “good and perfect gift” (James 1:17, NIV). God gave us a tangible sign of hope—a continual reminder of His provision. “How excellent is thy lovingkindness, O God! therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of thy wings.” (Psalm 36:7, KJV)

Thank you, Jesus.