#31Days: Rest

Matthew 11:28-30
Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Isn't it beautiful in KJV?
This is where I'm at.
Coming to Him for rest.
Good night.

#31Days: Grace Like Rain

Well, yesterday I didn't post.
It was raining and the Internet was out.
So sorry.

But there is grace.
{Grace is especially the divine influence upon the heart and its reflection in our lives - gratitude; thank you, e-word. Honestly, every breath is grace.}
For those of us who are in Christ, endless amounts of it.
Thanks be to God because I get it very sorely wrong and leave most tasks unfinished day-in and day-out.
Friends, let His grace rain down on you.
So too, at the present time there is a remnant chosen by grace. And if by grace, then it cannot be based on works; if it were, grace would no longer be grace.
Romans 11:5-6

You adulterous people, don't you know that friendship with the world means enmity against God? Therefore, anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God. Or do you think that Scripture says without reason that he jealously longs for the spirit he has caused to dwell in us? But he gives us more grace. That is why the Scripture says: "God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble. James 4:4-6

But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them - yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me. 1 Corinthians 15:10

"No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are." Acts 15:11

Some nights you just gotta let Scripture do the talking.
I know that somebody out there is like me.
Never gets it all done.
House is a mess.
Frustrates friends because you don't spend enough any time with them.
Cannot keep up with life.

Friends, there is grace. I choose to rest in it tonight.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. 1 Thessalonians 5:28

#31Days: Identity Schmidentity

My husband gave me the idea for this post.
He wanted to post and pretend to be me tonight.
Not happening.

I asked him what he would write about his identity, and he quickly said, "Identity Schmidentity."
Of course, he was kidding.
But I thought, that's actually a great idea!

I thought about how many of us want to be good Jesus followers.
We want to do all the right things.
We want to learn all the skills.
Scripture memory.
Study the Bible.
Pray for everyone.
Disciple the women.
Yes, all good things.

Deny yourself. {Yes.}
In humility, consider others as better than yourself. {Yes.}
Be all things to all people. {Yes.}

However, sometimes, we think that we can do all the right things and learn all the skills without knowing who we are.
We can't.

I tried, though.
I ran and ran and ran.
I burnt out. Again and again.
I tried to work my way into God's family.

Hear me say this tonight:
I believe in laying a foundation of knowing who you are in Jesus.
I believe in laying a foundation of doing the right things and learning the right skills.

Identity schmidentity is the popular practice that believers do above knowing who they are.
I bought into it so I'm sort of playing catch up now. I am skilled, but just learning who I am (though I've known it in my head, eternal truths are now traveling to my heart).

I've had a hard time believing
...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 can boast. (Ephesians 2:8-9)

Truth: Finding my identity in Jesus means that my identity is Jesus.
He is the One God sees when He looks at me. Who I am is completely wrapped up in Jesus.
I must understand this before I can walk boldly forward in the plans God has for me.

Luckily? There has been (and will continue to be) grace in all my missteps.
And I no longer say, "identity schmidentity."
I now pause often to ask God who I am.
Upon hearing, I am thrust forward into the work He's prepared.

#31Days: Fully Known and Never Alone

I may have mentioned a time or two that this week has been an adventure.
Yes.
My husband has assured me that I will be able to blog about its events in the future.
{He might even be the one to post about it.}

Also, this journey of writing my identity in Christ has been an adventure.
A glorious one.
I have found myself meditating on the truths about which I write during a week's time when I've been largely unable to sit at my Father's feet and listen to Him.
Writing it down has been a blessing to me.
The remainder of October will be busy, for sure.
I get to visit my family and throw a big you're-about-to-get-hitched party for my cousin, Mink.
I am excited for the whirlwind of it all.
But I am more excited to create some space for myself to process, to be encouraged, to sit at His feet, to reveal more of myself to my friends, and to write.
I hope to do this space something more like justice in the latter half of these 31 days.

But tonight I am here.
A little tired.
A little beat up.
But still His.

This week I have really craved processing time with my husband.
When weird things happen to me, I like have to talk about it.
Josh is the victim of all my talking. (Though sometimes John has to hear it. Poor baby.)
Have I ever told y'all that I am married to the most introverted man I know?
It's good. He balances me.
But he also gets anxious to meet new people.
He's sort of  okay very uncomfortable in large groups.
We speak of our leaving strategy before we head into an introvert-horrifying situation.
And while he's a great listener, the severest of introverts putters out before dear wifey is done with her processing aloud.
I am often left with a lot to say.
Sometimes this makes me feel misunderstood and alone.

Lies.

I believe with all my heart that Joshua Beam is the perfect husband for me.
Even and especially including our severe extrovert-introvert discrepancy.
God has joined us together, and you do not hear me complaining against my man today.
I am simply communicating the reality in which I live and experience God's grace.
You see, Josh is my person.
I can tell him anything.
He knows my deepest, darkest, scariest secrets.
He has walked through seasons of depression with me.
He walks through daily bouts of anxiety with me.
He lives with the mess. (Literally & figuratively.)
He knows me just about as well as anyone can.

Yet I long to be closer to him. 

I want him to know me better, understand me more.
And yes, while I know that we will likely grow closer during this fifth year of marriage,
And yes, while I know that this is a good desire, to become more unified with my man,
There is something about this desire that is reserved only for my Creator.

Very often Josh misunderstands me (and I him).
Very often we do leave each other alone in the trenches of life. (Be it for small windows of time, we still are oft outside of one another's presence.)
However, this sort of misunderstanding and separation never happens in my relationship with God.
Never.
I could not read my Bible for a year's time (though not recommended for life in the Spirit) and pick it up one year from now and God would meet me exactly where I am.
How?

"You have searched me, LORD, 
and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD,
know it completely."
(Psalm 139:1-4)

God knows me completely.
This is a little scary when I think about my thought life and my quirks and all the time that I waste.
God sees it.
Even more than Josh does.
Even more than I do.

But before I begin thinking of God as a creepy stalker,
I think about how much I want to be known.
I want my husband to know me.
I long for my mama to understand me. Completely.
My personality is so multifaceted.
My emotions are mind-boggling (even to me).
I need to be understood.
There is only One who can fill that need.

Continuing on in Psalm 139,
"Where can I go from your Spirit? 
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, 
you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, 
you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn.
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, 
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,'
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day, 
for darkness is as light to you."
Psalm 139:7-12

I cannot flee.
I cannot hide.
I cannot scare God away with my emotions.
He does not leave my house when it's too messy.
He is with me.
He is with me.
All of the time.

Who am I in Jesus?
I am fully known and never alone.

On weeks like this one (and every week), that's an actual life-altering truth.

#31Days: Blank White Screen

Since I've been writing this week.
And I really haven't felt like writing this week.
I've been staring at a blank white screen a lot.

This got me thinking.
What do I think about when my mind's a blank white screen?
And what do I wish I'd think about?

I admit that most days I think about how overwhelmed I am.
How I am tired and don't feel like doing a single thing.
How my house has so many issues, why even get up and bother making it better?
Especially this week. Did I mention that it's been a hard and weird week?
My default blank white screen is typically all about beating up Ashley.
Not good.
Not truthful.

I really don't want my blank white screen to be fairy-tales and roses, though.
I mean, life is hard.
My hard is hard. Your hard is hard.
Yes?
Regardless of where we are, what we're doing, there's a little bit of tough in it.
It's the world we live in.

I am not one of those people who can positive think my way through the day.
I have to acknowledge the hard.
Bring it to my God.
And choose to focus on the eternal blessings that are mine in Jesus.
Choose to remember that this hard is working for me.

And so, I hope one day my blank white screen will be ...

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

So we're not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There's far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can't see now will last forever. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (The Message)

Can I just pause for a second to get an amen?
Amen!

So, eons ago I went to college.
When I was in college I paid a fee to be able to use the gym.
So I did.
Twice a week I worked. that. elliptical.
{LOVE LOVE LOVE the elliptical.}
While I was panting and red-faced, I would review 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 in the NIV.

Therefore, we do not lose heart.
Though outwardly we are wasting away.
Yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.
For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.
So we fix our eyes not on what is seen.
But on what is unseen.
Since what is seen is temporary.
But what is unseen is eternal.

One day I shared with my mentor my elliptical memory verse.
She said, "Oh girl, I would just give up if that were my work-out verse."
I get it.
Just focus on the eternal, and not our earthy, falling-apart bodies.

But to me, this verse says that every falling-apart moment is working for something greater.
Eternal glory.
Thus, it made sense to me to review it in my very obvious 22-year-old-falling-apart-body-moment.
So in the moments when my mind goes blank.
In the moments when I'm too tired to think, I want to remind myself, "not a day goes by without his unfolding grace."
Not a minute, actually.
All the minutes are working for something great.
The minutes when I lose control of my precious preschool class - when I have little ones wandering the house and interrupting their mamas. They count.
The minutes when my husband and I are unprepared for something big. Financially strapped. Failing to communicate. Again. They are working.
The minutes when John is up in the middle of the night whining for juice or Dinosaur Train. Even those minutes are grace working.

Therefore, we do not lose heart.
We never give up.
We keep swimming.
Even if it looks like the dead man's float.

One time I overheard a wise woman in the faith say that her bread-and-butter teaching with her kids was Jesus's saying that we are to love others as we love ourselves.
Since I heard that, I wondered if I'd have a bread-and-butter teaching with my own sweet ones.
So far, with my one John, I tell him over and over daily that
We never give up.
We do not lose heart. How could we!
Unimaginable glory awaits us.
In spite of.
No, because of, our current troubles.

Who am I?
I am a daily renewed, eternal child of God with unimaginable glory prepared for me.
How could I give up?!?

Father, please transform my thinking. Give me this new blank white screen.

#31Days: At the End of Spent, Love

What does it mean that I have a Father in heaven?

It means I am shepherded. 

It means I am known.

I means I am delighted in.

But mostly it means that I'm loved. 

The verses that began this journey of healing, this journey to knowing who I am remain my prayer for myself.

In the words of Paul,

"...And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord's holy people to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."

So I pray for us tonight.

{Because y'all, this has been a week, and sometimes you only have the energy to pray.}

I ask you, Father, to allow anyone reading this post to experience your love right now (not just think "maybe God loves me" in our heads, but to know your love in our day-to-day lives). Because, at the end of the day, who we are is loved. Completely. Undeservedly. In Jesus. May we know your love that surpasses knowledge. Especially me. Because I am spent. And I need your love whispers in my little heart. I am Yours. In Jesus. Amen.

#31Days: Parenthood

Well, this has been a hilarious and really hard week.
So crazy, in fact, that my husband says he's going to guest post on my blog to share what this week has taught him. (We'll see if he follows through. He's a non-attention-seeker.)

Honestly, I am just writing what comes.
I've already written two cop-out posts this week.

I don't wanna write another cop-out, but my brain is really too full.
I've tried a little bit to dump it all out, but I'm gonna need a little more time.
And it's nothing that I can dump on the blog (wouldn't that be nice?).
Remember: Hubby: Guest post.

What I can dump is that I am watching Parenthood.
Writing through the commercials.
Yeah. Probably not the best writing strategy.
But it's my favorite show.
This is my Thursday night.

I can also dump that Parenthood is a topic close to my heart right now.
For more reasons than one.
I'm a parent.
I have two parents.
For better or for worse.
I have one Father.
For better.
No, for best.

Now dumping one of my favorite verses about who God is:
"And do not call anyone on earth 'father,' for you have one Father, and he is in heaven."
Matthew 23:9

I can dump a little bit of what I think about the word father.
I use it like this ...
"Father, ..."
It is the opening word of my prayers because I know Who my Father is.
He is the only.

I can dump a little more about one of my main men.
I have someone very important who I call Daddy.
He has been the most important influence in my life.
He's the one who told me what God is like.
He's the one who gave me my identity.

Just like your daddy, mine is a sinner.
I saw from him true things about God.
God is a people gatherer.
God is charismatic.
God is charming. He is captivating. He is epic.
God is good at everything.
God is intelligent.
God works. A lot.
Life with God is fun. Spontaneous.

I also learned false things about God from my daddy.
You have too. (No matter how swell he is; he is not perfect. Perfection is reserved for your Father in Heaven. Know Him.)
I will not write about the false things here because I love my daddy.
I respect him.
I also believe that all is purposeful.
God has used every shred for good.
Believe me.

God has been bringing me through it. Taking the wounds given me by my parents (you have these wounds too, I promise) and putting truth in the false places.

Truthfully, God is the Father.
In the end, I'm going to have this strange, strong affection for a person standing near me in that great multitude that no one can count (trust).
He will be completely focused on worshiping Jesus.
So will I.
But out of the corner of my eye, I will see him.
I will see him and I will know him.
He will have a new name by now.
But I will remember.
James.
Daddy.
I will remember and I will thank him.
The good.
The fun.
The bad.
And the very bad.
Every second, grace.
Every moment inching me closer to Jesus.

Thank you, Daddy.
Thank you for making me and for every waking moment with me.

#31Days: Children

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.
1 John 3:1

Children. God has the capacity to love us. Plural. We. Are. Children.

We are loved.
All of us.
God's love is multiplied.
He multiplies to us the capacity to love.

Who am I?
I am loved.
We are children.

Abba, I stand amazed. You have done great things & I am glad!

#31Days: If our God is for us ...

I have been praying for another boy.
This may seem weird because I grew up in girl world, mommy a son, and all I see are nephews.
It was {sort of} accidental, but I can't help pray for a boy.

Why?
His name.
If Josh and I have another son, he will be Benjamin Joseph.
I picked out this name for my firstborn son when I was around ten, but even before I married Josh I knew that his first boy would be John. I'm cool with that. John is my fave.

But I've been reading Exodus in my time with God, so naturally, before that, I was reading Genesis.
Genesis holds many inspiring stories, but the Joseph saga sings.
{Before I veer off the naming topic, we all know why Ben's middle name will be Joseph. He's my Bubba, and I love him. Joseph, son of Israel, is icing on the cake. Joseph is also my fave. name. ever.}

Joseph - a zealous young man excited about the dreams God gave him, mistreated and sold into slavery by his brothers, slandered by his master's wife, unjustly imprisoned, miraculous (because God...) & forgotten interpreter of dreams, born leader, and miraculous & esteemed interpreter of dreams - experienced all of this by the age of thirty.

I found myself so impressed by Joseph's qualities that I began praying prayers to this tune:
"Father, I pray that my son will be like Joseph, not afraid to weep when something is sorrowful or disheartening (Genesis 50:17). Connect my boy to his emotions. Connect his head to his heart. And I pray for a son to name for Joseph. In Jesus. Amen."
"I admire Joseph, son of Israel so much. Father, I'd love to see many of his qualities in John. Long suffering. Leadership. I'd also love to have another son to name after him! Amen."
{Told y'all. Accidentally praying for another boy. Joseph's life and faith story is compelling.)

But the thing that impresses me most about Joseph, son of Israel, is the perspective he holds throughout his lifetime, a lifetime laden with trials.
"Father, I pray that John will be a man who sees rightly; people do nothing to him, but what You allow..."

Joseph's brothers sold him into slavery undeservedly and he was cast into prison wrongfully. 
Joseph should have been {and would have been justified in his being [by our twisted standards]} like um really cross with his brothers. But when he met them again face to face {or should I say face-to-feet as Joseph was in a position of authority over them and actually saved their lives during a severe famine [and the lives of a whole nation]}, here's what he had to say:

"And now do not be distressed or angry with yourselves because you sold me here, for God sent me before you to preserve your life ... And God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God..." Read it for yourself in Genesis 45:5, 7-8

I am amazed that even though it was clearly his brothers' actions which brought him to Egypt in the first place, Joseph placed all the blame on God Himself.
He shifted the blame and He knew that God's intentions were (and still are) good.

He knew that if God is for us not even his brothers selling him into slavery could be against him.
Nothing could (and ever will) thwart God's plan for good in the believer's life.

Not divorce of a certain set of parents, oldest daughter: age nine.
Not even a pattern of sin/coping mechanism so long and deep that she herself almost believed it was a necessary part of her identity.
Not being mostly friendless.
Not a struggle with hating men.
Not failing out of college.
Not having mega ugly conflict with a mega wonderful friend.
Not moving across the country to the Arctic land of the USA (aka the Mitten).
Not having a baby who s-l-o-w-l-y grew into his skin.
Not having a baby who is allergic to naps. #wakeyboo
Not loneliness.
Not really underdeveloped housekeeping skills.
Not anything.

Friends, I believe that these things were not only for my good.
No, I believe that God intends to use them (all of them) for His own glory.

If God is for us, who can be against us?

Not even me and my sin sickness. Nothing is more powerful than Him. Nothing/no one is against me in a way that trumps God's plan.

Who am I in Christ?
I am one whom He is for.

Dear friends, I know that we have a very present enemy. I am aware that our enemy lies to me daily.

 I rebuke him daily {and his dirty scoundrel minions}. I claim blessings & protection over myself, my family and my household daily. 

Why? I have that authority in Jesus. Powerful is who I am in Christ. 

#31Days: Hard Day

Today was such a hard day.
So hard, in fact, that my husband said to me, "Please don't blog about this."
I apologize for the silence on the blog today, but I will complete my if-God-is-for-us thought tomorrow.

For now, know that I know that even this hard day is for our good.
I have never been more thankful that Josh is mine, watching him move into action tonight.

Yes, I'm good.
God is good.
John is sleeping.
Tomorrow is a new day.

#31Days: Victim

I have been dancing around it for the last few days now.
It is the thing that I know to be true.
It has changed my life.

What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? Romans 8:31

I sing this all the time.
I sing it unknowing.
I sing it ungrateful.

If God is for me, who can be against me?
It's a rhetorical question that is followed up by a few more rhetorical questions:

He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died - more than that, who was raised - who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger or sword? Romans 8:31-35

(Yes. I realize I am sounding like a broken record in this series.)
I keep coming back to this truth, though: If God is for us, who can be against us?
Why do I keep coming back to it? Well, I need this truth.

One thing I've learned about myself in my healing process.
I approach life as a victim.
My victimization comes out of my mouth like this: "My life is harder than everybody else's."
Please tell me somebody can relate to this grotesquely flawed approach to life. It is a faulty strategy, y'all.
I know that you have hard like I have hard.
I know that your baby doesn't sleep like my baby doesn't sleep.
I know that you need time alone like I need time alone. (Anyone else have a tiny follower? {Quote with me 1 Corinthians 11:1. Challenging.})
I know that your van breaks down, and the Bigby barista gets your drink wrong, and your baby poops all over the state of Michigan {and sometimes all on the same day!!!} too.

But I have been known to come to the pile of mess that is my life believing that everybody has a personal vendetta against me. Especially God. Because really He has the power to make everything not. this. hard. Right?

Of course. God can take it all away.
He can make Ashley's van run perfectly for forever and ever.
He can help John to sleep every second of everyday for forever and ever.
He is in heaven. He does whatever pleases Him.

But. 
What shall we say to these things?
That's what Romans 8:31 says. What shall we say to these things?
What things?
Slow down, Ashley. What are you talking about?
What shall we say to the things preceding Romans 8:31?

Oh, you mean Romans 8:26, for instance.
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.

Yes, and Romans 8:28:
And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 

Keep going, Ash. What about verse 29?
For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. {Keep reading. Verse 31.} And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified. 

This truth is just about too much to take in.
When I am weak {in my very hard version of hard} the Holy Spirit is groaning prayers on my behalf. I can't fathom the goodness.
When I am breathing, God is working all things for good. My whole life for good. {When I pray for John, I remind God of this promise. My angry rant for good, Father.}
I, as one of His chosen {just wow}, am being daily, hourly, minute-by-minute being made like Jesus.
I have been called, also justified, also glorified. {Perhaps I will write more on this later. It's just too much.}

What I've realized?
In Christ, I am a victim.
I am a victim of His goodness. 
I did not deserve to be this sort of victim.
I did not seek this out. God knows I don't deserve it.
I just am.

Right now, I must go pick up a very good friend {hint: We named our son after him.} from the airport.
I will write more on this If-God-is-for-us business tomorrow.
But for now.
We are victims of goodness.
Amen?
Amen.

#31Days: Seen

I should not have written about emotional breakdowns yesterday.

Today I straight up ugly cried.
In the middle of Bigby.
{For those who don't know [aka all my Southern friends], Bigby is a coffee house up here in Michigan. Josh and I don't hate it, but we also don't love it. Starbucks was crowded.}
Anyway, those who've had coffee with me know that I typically order a special drink.
I hate milk, so my white mocha has to be breve (made with half and half).

Well, the lovely staff at Bigby thought I said "half decaf" apparently because that's what they called out from the counter. It's what they called out, and I didn't correct them.
I took it, tasted it, and lost it.

I broke because my coffee was made incorrectly.
Yes, I did pay $5 for it, but weeping because you can't enjoy sipping white chocolate goodness while communing with God is a bit of an overreaction. Yes? It points to a deeper issue.

Sure, I could blame my circumstances.
I mentioned my Aunt Flo yesterday; she's near.
When she's near, I'm a wreck. (We have a sort of love-hate relationship.)
Also, my alarm clock failed me today.
Alarm clock's name is John. He went off too early (6:54am) and then too late (10:15am), making us late to a birthday party.
Did I mention that I hadn't a gift to bring to the birthday party? So I sent Josh (also awakened by my late alarm clock) to Target to fetch some superhero swag for the birthday boy. Then Josh got an urgent call to help a friend so he never came home to help John and Mama out the door.
Yep, we were over thirty minutes late.

The party was great once we got there.
I met my boss's brothers and their wives. They were awesome.
I loved getting to know them, especially Alicia. C'mon, y'all, her grandma lives in Statesboro. How could I not love her when she knew Statesboro?

Post party, Josh and I were hungry for quiet time with the Lord and we knew John was toast. Off we went in search of Starbucks only to find that the two we chose to try were crowded. Like not an open table or empty cushy chair crowded. {Insert plea for more Starbucks locations in Metro Detroit.}

So, we ended up at Bigby.
Sub-par.
I'm grouchy.
Did I mention that my husband hung up on me for screaming in his ear earlier today?
Yes, grouchy.
Every. little. thing. is plucking my last nerve today.
And then the Bigby barista butchers my drink and still has the nerve to say, "Have a wonderful afternoon."
How am I supposed to have a wonderful afternoon with milk in my coffee? {Don't answer that.}

Well, as I was sobbing incessantly and chanting in my husband's general direction, "I just wanna go home," (knowing that's a lie), I remembered someone telling me once that it's best to spend time listening to God when you're really stirred up emotionally. Bingo. I was about as stirred up as I could get as all the young single frappuccino-sipping dudes gawked in my direction. Initiate escape to van.

Just to be clear, my van's name is Rybea (pronounced ree-bee).
My van is holy ground. A place where I oft commune with Abba and do my most sacred & emotionally taxing work.
Today was no exception.

I asked God, "What is the underlying emotion behind this ridiculous overreaction to an innocent and delightful Bigby barista getting my coffee wrong? Why am I flipping out?"

I heard clearly with my mind's ears: "I am unseen."
Oh, daily, I think nobody sees me. Nobody sees what I'm doing, what I'm struggling with. I am overlooked.

I asked God, "Help me feel this overlooked emotion right now. Take me back to the first time in my life I experienced this emotion."

He took me through all the events of my day. I felt overlooked by my son who didn't wake up on time. I felt overlooked by my husband - my best friend of eight years - who should know that my number one pet peeve in the world is being rushed. Why would he leave me alone with the rush of the morning? (Oh yeah, to run an errand that I hadn't.) I felt overlooked by the friend who called on my servant-hearted husband in his hour of need. I felt overlooked by the Starbucks patron who crowed me out. And yes, I felt overlooked by this sweet barista who misheard my order.

But more than that, I saw myself standing on the back of his chair. He's eating his dinner late. His back to me. Completely nervous that he didn't see me.

I saw my sister and I in our old house living room. The living room was rearranged funny. Couch on an unusual wall. (I can see it.) We had our night shirts over our heads as wigs singing, dancing, putting on a show for my daddy's friends. We were masterfully fighting bedtime with a good show.

And then I heard it, the lie,
I must perform to be seen.
I must put on a good show, a false me in order to capture and maintain anyone's gaze, anyone's concern.

As I began to pray and renounce this lie in Jesus's Name, I begged Abba for truth.
He delivered.

My soul sister's name is Hagar. I will name my firstborn daughter as her nemesis is named by God (c'mon, Sarah is the perfect name). Hagar struggled with feeling unnoticed and uncared for. With good reason, she was used by her mistress (to give her a child), impregnated, treated with contempt by the woman who orchestrated all of this in the first place, so Hagar fled.

But the Lord told Hagar to go straight back to her mistress and submit to her. Then he promised her some cool things, namely a son (named Ishmael) who would be multiplied innumerably.

So, Hagar knew in that moment, "You are a God of seeing." For she said, "Truly here I have seen him who looks after me" (Genesis 16:13).

It thrills me that God asked Hagar to return to an extremely unpleasant situation to show her that He would take care of her. It thrills me because He is the One who allows all the things to go horribly wrong for our good. It thrills me that He was with Hagar during her emotional breakdown (and that she grew closer to Him through it). Soul sisters.

God also directed me eyes to Psalm 127:1,2:
Unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain. It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep.
The words anxious toil stood out to me in the first reading because that's where I've been living this week.
I, then, asked the Lord to reveal some truth into this lie that I must perform to be seen.

He said, "You are my workmanship, created in Christ to do good works which I've already prepared for you to walk in" (Ashley paraphrase of Ephesians 2:10).

Then these words jumped off the page.
Unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain.

Unless the LORD does the work, all the striving is meaningless.
Unless the LORD builds into me, all my trying is in vain.
I'm just gonna say it, all my aiming to please others is in vain. My aiming to be good enough that they'd pretty please notice me, it's a waste of time.

Who am I? I am Seen and I am Cared For.
Remember my girl Hagar?
Well, after the original Sarah gave birth to the child of promise, Isaac, she had precious Hagar sent away to wander in the wilderness, just Hagar and her dear son, Ishmael.
It was a bad Bigby day for Hagar, y'all.
More than that, she was given over to mourning the death of her one and only.
How were she and little Ishmael to survive in the wilderness?
Hope was lost.
Hagar ugly cried.
But then she heard a heavenly voice.
What's up, Hagar? Don't be scared.
I heard your boy. He's scared too, but I know exactly where he is.
I see you.
Again, God promised her some cool things like making Ishmael into a great nation.
Then God opened her eyes. 
God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water, y'all.
She saw the very thing to sustain her family.
(See Genesis 21 for the real + non-Ashley version.)

I read this passage in my time with God not too long ago, and I prayed, "God, help me not miss the wells of water you place right in front of my face."

Today, in the midst of despair at the Bigby brouhaha, I did not miss the well.
God spoke truth in my inmost places.

So [Hagar] called the name of the LORD who spoke to her, "You are a God of seeing," for she said, "Truly here I have seen him who looks after me." Therefore the well was called Beer-lahai-roi [the well of the Living One who sees me]; it lies between Kadesh and Bered (Genesis 16:13-14).

Amen. Maybe I should rename the mini-van.

#31Days: Weak

I used to avoid emotional breakdowns at all costs.

I didn't want to have them {though I did, ALL. THE. TIME}, I didn't want to be a party to them.
They made me feel bad about myself.
Like I wasn't put together. Like I had a need.

Partially, I was taught this. I live(d) in the South. Grew up there.
Don't you dare cry in church.
Sugarcoat. Pretend.
Acting is fun for awhile, but it soon catches you.
You're living a lie; you were never together.

Today I embrace emotional breakdowns.

I just had a mini one, actually. I was sitting in Starbucks. John woke up early from his nap in stroll-poll. {Thank you.} So I nursed him. Only, I was about to pee my pants. My water from lunch and my venti coffee had to find its way out.
Of course, John would not go back to sleep {#wakeyboo}, so I had to extract him from the ninny {wailing} and I had Bible, journal, 5 books, computer, iphone {all the things} to pack up.
Forget it. I said aloud, "If someone wants to steal it, they can have it; I gotta pee!"
Of course, two ladies sitting in very close proximity witnessed the breakdown and heard every word.
Relief.
Overwhelmed phone call to my husband. {Thank God my man is a bit steadier.}
Tears.
Labor breathing technique.
Pack up everything.
Buy John a cookie & a juice.
No more wailing.
Door.
Load car.
Off to run a BLB errand.

When I got into my car, I sang,
I need thee, O, I need thee ...
Every hour I need thee ...
Come bless me now, my Savior ...
I come to thee.

Need.
Emotional breakdowns are the driving force in my life.
They drive me back to God. They point out my need.

I used to go to Starbucks all the time (okay, right, I still do) and sit and read/study my Bible, write papers, eavesdrop (ENFP thang), meet people, etc. I used to go to Starbucks to do all the things, but I used to think that I had to have it all together. Appear attractive.

In fact, I used to approach my whole life in this way.
If I am not perfect, why would anyone want to be my friend?
If I do not display Jesus perfectly, why would anyone want to follow Him?

It's like I missed the whole point of the Gospel.
Okay, I did miss the whole point of the Gospel.

The good news is that Jesus meets me in the midst of my need.
In my emotional breakdown, He is strong.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest on me. For the sake of Christ, then I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 (emphasis mine)

Who am I in Christ?
I am weak.
I have self-diagnosed myself with PMDD (PMS on steroids). Ask my husband. (The weak {pun intended} before my period, I am an emotional delight.)
I am prone to depression.
I have a YES problem. {Yes flies out of my mouth often. I hate the word no. Lord help me.}
I lose my temper with my son on the daily.
My body didn't know how to give birth.
My son didn't know how to breastfeed.
My parents divorced when I was nine, and I could. not. cope. {Still can't most days.}

Hear me, people. I boast about these things.
I cry in Starbucks.
I throw pillows.
(I have been known to squeeze my sister's arm really, really hard.)
I pray. (Sometimes my prayers sound like this: HHHHHHEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPP!)
And, oh man, do I ever cry wail in church.

I boast in weakness because that's the thing that keeps me (and others) wanting Jesus.
He is strong.
I boast in weakness because it makes me relate-able.
I am just like you.
No, you may not have self-diagnosed PMDD.
Yes, your parents may still be together.
But I know. And Lord knows He knows.
You are weak.
Yes, you make more money than me.
No, you don't stay home with the children you don't have.
But you're weak.
You're needy.

He's enough.
Please keep reading this series. I am preaching the Gospel to myself everyday.

#31Days: Secure & Thankful

Welcome to ENFP land.
The truth is that I have no plan for any of these posts. I have no schedule.
Schedules stifle me. Make me go crazy.
Mostly, I just go with it.
In fact, I really have no idea where I might end up on any given day.
I fly. With the wind.
The wind organizes me and provides direction.
Weakness. Strength.

All that to say that this post is 100% inspired by my reading in my Jesus Calling devotional. Seriously, this little book rocks my word daily. {But this morning I had no idea what/how I would post. Now you're up to speed. Welcome to my world.}

Enough about my finite personality. This series is about how my infinite Father sees me.
And it's so good.
He told me specifically, personally that my name is victorious king in whom He delights.
(The only reason He can say things like this to me is because King Jesus is alive in me. Praise Him!)

I have been showing up to my life with this new name for several months now.
What I've found as I've practiced being king (you know saying things like, "Good morning, King." Sounds silly, but it's not. It's life.) is that I am secure.

Jesus said so about His people:
"I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand." (John 10:28)

Jesus's words are enough, but Paul also writes:
Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, "For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us (c'mon, victorious king!) For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:35-39) (all emphases & that teeny personal addition, mine.)
{Also, I think non-planner Ashley just determined the rest of the week Romans 8 week. [Subject to change. ;)] Go read Romans 8, y'all. So. So. So. Good.}

No one, no thing, no circumstance can take me away from God, can change my standing before Him. I don't plan to screw every day up, but I will, and even then I am secure. I am His. Eternally victorious king.{Though he is free to change my name when I see Him in person to something like beautiful voice of rest and peace. Amen. Or to whatever He wants. Amen.}

Anyway, my thought from Jesus Calling is about giving thanks. (What does thankfulness have to do with your security, Ashley? Everything.)

Check this.
giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. (Ephesians 5:20)

I often withhold thanks. For instance, Monday when John pooped all over the state of Michigan (slight exaggeration), I didn't say, "Thank you, God, for this epic poop."
More seriously, when my husband was mostly jobless for a year, I didn't pray, "Thank you, Father, that Josh has no job."
But that is what this verse is saying. Say thank you for everything.
Not to try to find the good things from the bad situation.
Not "even though Josh has no job, thank you that this circumstance has brought our marriage closer and made us better friends and better parents to John."
No.
We give thanks for everything: "Thank you that Josh has no job."

This is only possible through Jesus.
Only possible when we intimately know Him and know that He is good.
One more time, we gotta know that He is good.

If we believe this ...
And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good for those who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)
... we can give thanks for everything.

I can give thanks for everything.

Thank you, Father, for days when John wakes early from his nap and my time with you is cut short.
Thank you, Father, for times when my classroom is bananas.
Thank you, Father, for the day when baby Beam 2 comes (nor things to come can separate us. Amen.) and I get to bear psycho newborn days with no sleep and rare bathing. Thank you.
Thank you, Father, for times when I am drowning in life.
Thank you, Father, for winter.
Thank you, Father, for times when I can't.
Thank you, Father, for the days when I fight with my husband.
Thank you, Father, for demanding people.
Thank you, Father, for people who guilt-trip me.
Thank you, Father, for divorce.
Thank you, Father, for death.
Thank you, Father, for alcoholics.
Thank you, Father, for hearing me and saying no.

God has so got me that I can say thank you for all of this.
He is good.

"Thank Me for everything, even though this seems unnatural - even irrational." (Jesus Calling // October 3 devotion)

{If you have a hard thing to say thank you to God for, feel free to leave it in the comments.}

What I Gleaned from Influence

I am influential.
Really, I am.
I have a child who spent his whole day hitting people and chucking rocks at his friends. (I try to explain to him that this is neither a good method for gaining nor keeping friends. I digress.)
I am the number one influence in said child's life. He is with me when I lie down and when I rise. Where can I flee from his presence? (Bath tub. But only sometimes.) He mostly follows me.
God bless him; I have influence.

I have Internet access.
That's a good thing.
I almost only hear women people talking about how we were so much better off during the good old days when people weren't attached to their smart phones. People were more present. (Probably just chose a different distraction, but that's a-whole-nother story.)
I hear people talking about how we know too much about everybody's business, and how the Internet makes life way creepy.
I hear people who are down on the Internet.
And I get it.
Porn.
Predators.
Catfishing.
The evil is prevalent and loud.
But so is the good.
During my first two years of motherhood, I was pretty much a loner. (Anybody relate?)
I was home all day (longing to bathe): just me, my baby, and the Internet.
I was also accustomed to having a large pool of women from which I could call someone to hang out, someone to share wisdom, someone to come over and stare at me. (Did I mention that I moved from "home" two months post-baby?)
The Internet discipled me in all things life and motherhood those two years. I read blogs like this one and this one and this one.
I found myself thanking God for the Internet.
I wasn't alone.
Sisters raised their voice to tell me so.

I have a voice.
Ain't it the truth?
If my sister(s) can be an encouragement, so can I.
At the Influence Conference, I encountered the three sweet sisters linked directly above.
I met them and they blessed my heart by encouraging me to write.
To raise my voice that there might be another one speaking out for truth & love.
They encouraged me to connect, to empower, and to be an example for the next generation.
I pray that my blog does all of these things. Well.

I want to publicly say thank you to those who worked so hard to put on a marvelous conference.
I believe your efforts make an eternal difference.

I also need to say an above-and-beyond thank you to Annie Downs. You don't know me, but I believe in your message. I think you may have wrecked me for ever having an I-get-online-sometimes life. Thank you.

Last, last thing. It was so good to worship with normal moms and dads. I know that there were also single gals & married people with no kids, but there was just something special about a room full of passionately-going-for-it worshipers + knowing that over half of these worshipers have little ones at home (or on their hip). I was so blessed by this thought. I find that corporate worship only gets sweeter as I have more to thank God for, the more that He walks with me. I sensed this in the room. The LORD has done great things for us (carried us through hard things), and we are filled with joy!

#31Days: Delightful

Imagine one day you are listening to God and He asks you to turn to your chapters.
Your. Chapters.

Isaiah 60-62.
How do you know that they're your chapters?
God leads you to them often.

Imagine God already told you that you are a king, a victorious one.
He showed you this verse, king.

He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me. (Psalm 18:19, emphasis mine)

Okay, back to your chapters.
Imagine God led you to Isaiah 62.
Zion's New Name. Oh, He speaks.

You read. You cry. You listen.

But you will be called Hephzibah ... for the LORD will take delight in you. (Isaiah 62:4)

I don't have to imagine because this happened in my real life.
I asked God to tell me my name, and He said:

Victorious King in whom I delight ...
{This king wakes daily and SHOWS UP at the Zibah House [named in honor of Hephzibah] to wrangle seven children, five of whom do not speak fluent English. I work among people who understand the truth that God delights in us because of the One who is delightful. Glory.}

#31Days: Will the Real Ashley Beam Please Show Up?

It is the first day of October 2013.
October used to be one of those months I really didn't like.
I hate cold, and October is usually when cold is greeted.
I also didn't like the "oct" sound, but now I have a son with the "-ohn" sound.
Very similar.

Here's the deal. Just like I became a mama of a J-ohn (a name I didn't choose) and grew to like it, I am growing to like October.
The crispness. The colors. Some of the smells.
The feel of it. It reminds me of when Josh, John and I first moved to Michigan and all of our first trips to everywhere (especially of our first trip to the outlet mall, that blessed, gigantic place).

The point? I am growing.
I am changing.
I am becoming who God would have me to be.

Just like my distaste for October was not set in stone, neither is my disorganization, my messiness, my anxiety, etc. God is changing me.

{HUGE aside: Some of my favorite people are born in October. I want to say an extra special happy birth-month to Jonah David, Manbeard & my favorite mother-in-love. My life is so much richer because of you!}

I am writing these 31 Days about my identity in Christ. Though I am changing, my identity is set. The way God sees me is not dependent on my rate of becoming who He's made me to be.

In order to help you understand this journey that God has me on to finding my true identity in Jesus, I must give you a little bit of background (and apologize ahead of time that this post is intensely personal and all about my very own Jesus walk, but I think you'll be able to glean some goodness from it).

I recently began a practice of listening to God. (I will likely talk a lot around this practice. Listening has been life-changing and life-giving.) This sounds creepy but it's not. God is truly powerful and can speak any way He pleases. For me, listening to His voice is a spiritual discipline just like reading His voice (and the two often sound very similar + one lends itself to another), offering my voice in prayer, memorizing His voice, etc.

So, one day I was listening to God. I ask Him questions like ...
What are you thinking about me today?
What do you want to say to me about our relationship?

I close my eyes, and I listen in a (semi-) quiet place {this day it was Starbucks}.
Also, on this particular day, I asked God this question:
Who do you say I am?
If you could name me, what would my name be?

There was a two-part answer (part two tomorrow); turns out I have a long name.
I clearly heard God say, "Psalm 18." (Told you the written & still-small voice overlap.)

I turned to Psalm 18, and I read and cried and wrote.

For who is God, but the LORD? And who is a rock, except our God? - the God who equipped me with strength and made my way blameless. He made my feet like the feet of a deer and set me secure on the heights. He trains my hands for war, so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze. You have given me the shield of your salvation, and your right hand supported me, and your gentleness made me great. You gave a wide place for my steps under me, and my feet did not slip. I pursued my enemies and overtook them, and did not turn back till they were consumed. I thrust them through, so that they were not able to rise; they fell under my feet. For you equipped me with strength for the battle; you made those who rise against me sink under me.  (Psalm 18: 31-39)

I could write all day, y'all. I love this chapter. It means so much to me.
For that day, Father God called me (tiny little Ashley Beam)
Victorious King
I'm not joking. That's what He said. When he sees me, he sees a king.
And not only that, He sees a king who is winning battles.
Here's what he DID NOT SAY: I see a housewife who is drowning in laundry. I see a wife who rarely cooks supper for her husband. I see a mama who loses her temper with her son daily."
No, He clearly said, "I see victorious king. That's what I call you."

I weep even writing about this. Right now, my life does not look super victorious, y'all. Here I sit at a booth in Starbucks with a half asleep baby on the ninny typing halfway to encourage you and halfway out of desperation that maybe if I put this thing in black and white, I'll believe it myself.

I think the first rule of being a victorious king is that you have to show up for battle. Y'all, I wasn't even showing up for my own life. There were days last winter when I'd sit in my van for 5 hours at a time. I'd nap John in there and then just let him watch a movie because when I got out I'd have to deal with my real life. I'd feel the sting of the cold. I'd feel the loss of my friendships. I'd feel the alienation of being a Georgian in the Mitten. And I just couldn't deal. The battle was too hard for me. I'd forgotten that the battle wasn't mine to begin with.

I am described pretty perfectly by these four letters: ENFP. These letters stand for a lot of things, but mostly, they stand for an inability to live life in the real world. They stand for tardiness for battle. Maybe for forgetting the battle altogether. Maybe for getting distracted by a pretty red flower on the battlefield. Maybe for trying to fight all the other battles, except my own.

You get the picture. Victorious king is pretty far from who I am.

The name God called me not in any way corresponding with who I actually am reminds me a lot of a story I read once, a story of a man named Gideon; you can read along in Judges 6.
Basically Gideon was a wuss. In fact, when God called him, he was (along with the people of Israel) in a position of cowering because of the oppression of a people group called the Midianites.

And the angel of the LORD appeared to him and said to him, "The LORD is with you, O mighty man of valor." (Judges 6:12)

God gave Gideon a name, an identity that could only be accomplished in His strength. The very next move Gideon made (in obedience to God's command) was made in the most wussy way possible.

So Gideon took ten men of his servants and did as the LORD had told him. But because he was too afraid of his family and the men of the town to do it by day, he did it by night. (Judges 6:27)

God asked Gideon to tear down idols, and Gideon was too scared to live up to his name (mighty warrior) by day in the eyesight of his people, so he hid. I find comfort and challenge in this passage because, y'all, I hide. Like Gideon (Judges 6:36-40), I am unsure. I suffer from not believing that God could form in me a victorious king who slays his enemies. Most days I don't even believe that this girl king will show up.

That's the beauty.
God does it in me.
This blog series is the king showing up. The king trusting. The king tasting victory.

And isn't it funny that God would take mine and Gideon's weaknesses and turn them on their head for His own glory? That's who God is! Ashley, the non-life-shower-upper to be victorious king. Gideon, the wuss to be mighty man of valor to defeat (only only with God's help) Midian (see Judges 7).

So, what I've learned is true of me -Ashley Beam, victorious king - is found in this truth.

Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it {my personality} should leave me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:8-10) {emphatic addition mine}

Here is who I am in Christ.
I am victorious king. (I say it aloud to experience the full weight of His words.)

But I fight battles from a place of weakness.
From a place of trust.
From a place of contentment - with dirty laundry, tardiness, no meal planning skills.
Because the truth is that the fight is His.
All I do is show up.

#31Days: Who Am I?

October 1: Will the Real Ashley Beam Please Show Up?
October 2: Delightful
October 3: Secure & Thankful
October 4: Weak
October 5: Seen
October 6: Victim
October 7: Hard Day
October 8: If our God is for us ...
October 9: Children
October 10: Parenthood
October 11: At the End of Spent, Love
October 12: Blank White Screen
October 13: Fully Known and Never Alone
October 14: Identity Schmidentity
October 15: {crickets}
October 16: Grace Like Rain
Oh, y'all. Welcome. You are so welcome here - especially during these next 31 days.

I, Ashley Beam, the one who rarely bloggeth, will be writing everyday during the month of October (Inshallah//Lord willing.)

31 days. Ash, that's a lot.
You're right. And I'm so not full of words.
I just returned to normal life from this little conference. I am kinda tired.
I don't really have many words to offer. But I'm longing for them.
Moreover, I'm longing to be filled.

I am linking up this little (BIG) series with the nester. Apparently bloggers do this every year. (Am I a blogger?)

I am so excited about this series that I literally Do. Not. Care. if anyone reads it.
All this writing is basically cheap therapy for me. I am blessed if anyone reads it.

Here's the simple of it. I am blogging all about myself. (Per usual.)
Here's the beauty of it. I am also blogging all about you (if you're in Christ).

Without further adieu, my topic this year (my first year writing like a madwoman) is ...
Who am I? 
Finding my identity in Jesus. 

Let me give you some background.
God has been messing me up, y'all. A lot.
You know this is true if it's not your first time reading this space here.
If you need to be caught up, read here, here, and here.
This year I have been a wreck.
I have questioned like everything, everything about myself.
My personality. My gifts. My tastes. My friends. My marriage. My mommy methods. Everything.
And I have come out on the other side with my Father still holding me fast. Tight. Close. Holding me now.

I wish that I had experienced God's grace in this way sooner. I wish that I didn't live so many days with fear and doubt and anxiety and depression and so so many unmet needs.

However, I am so insanely thankful for the beauty emerging from the ashes this year. He is faithful!
I used to (like last week and I'll probably struggle tomorrow) think (though I knew better in my brain, I still felt this way in my heart) that I had to perform for God. I thought that I was putting on a show that He (being a good Father, He at least) showed up to; I would dance (because I can't sing) aka live my life of sacrifice and service before Him and He would either approve or disapprove of me. My worth and my identity have been found in this supposed approval or disapproval for far too long.

Of course, this varying approval/disapproval never came from God. It came from my own thoughts about me. It came from others' perceived thoughts about me. To be sure, God's thoughts had nothing to do with this.

The communities of faith that I was involved in also cemented this thinking in me (NOT not NOT their fault. Wonderful people. Wonderful vision. Screwed-up girl. Also, God was with me the ENTIRE time creating in me a need for Him. He's good.) They asked me questions like: "Ashley, have your shared your faith story this week?" and "Ashley, where's your girl you're investing your life in?" and "Ashley, did you spend at least 3 hours studying the Bible this week?"

It sounded to me like I needed to continue performing. No time to slow down and experience God's love and tender mercy and grace. I only read about this stuff and memorized it; I rarely experienced love & grace & mercy in my own heart and life.

Well, when you become a mom and move a 16-hour car drive away from all you've ever known and loved, the ish has its way of hitting the fan.

I was coming undone.
And in 2013, I was completely undone.
God had uncovered and laid wide open my heart.

I was completely known by Him. (Duh. But this time, I recognized my vulnerable state before His throne of grace.)

I was completely known and He started speaking truth. (More on all of these later.)
Ashley, I get you.
Ashley, you are effective.
Ashley, you are a crown of beauty.
Ashley, my delight is in you.
Ashley, you are named victorious king.

What the what?!? How does God say/think these things toward little/crazy/jacked-up me?
Great question, Ashley.
You are no longer just Ashley. You are Ashley (or victorious king - more on this, I promise) hidden with Christ. You are in Christ. You are brand new.
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!
(2 Corinthians 5:17)
Do we even grasp what that is saying? All of those years of striving. The new creation was already there. Christ already formed in me. Literally when God looked at me in 1998 (awkward middle school girl who couldn't cope with her parents' divorce), He saw Jesus. Again in 2001(when non-awkward husband was graduating high school, I was a very insecure ninth grade Ashley who still could not cope with life), God looked at me and saw His perfect Son. In 2006 when I failed out of college, Jesus. In 2008 when I made the Dean's List, Jesus. In 2009 as a 23-year-old bride, Jesus. In 2011, a scared new mother, Jesus. In 2013 - Lord, have mercy on me a screwed up sinner & by the way, I just wanna walk with you - Jesus!

He never left. I am not more Jesus-y in 2013 than I was in 1998. As an eloquent fellow Jesus person put it a couple of days ago at the Influence Conference, "The building is done!"

The building was done in 1998. It remains done. It didn't get any done-r, y'all. When God sees me, He sees newness. It. Is. Here.
He sees perfection. He sees Jesus.

Listen, people, I am not defined by my past. I am not a habitual liar. I am not a child of divorce. I am not one who struggles with anxiety or depression. These things have passed away. Dead. I am in Christ. Hidden in Him. Covered by His righteousness. Drowning in His love-presence.
(**Yes, of course these real world things plague me, but the beauty is that God uses them. They do not use me. Hallelujah.**)

You guys are troopers to read all the words. But aren't they good ones? I hope that you will keep coming back this month as I preach to Ashley who she is. Feel free to insert your name. If you belong to Jesus, this is all true of you as well.

{I also wanted to share 2 Corinthians 5:17 today because of a little song I've been listening to on repeat since Influence.}

This is gonna be fun.

Influence So Far ...

There are times in my life when I am completely certain of what I am doing.

I pull an almost transparent brown comb through soaking wet hair. It almost looks manageable. It deceives. I am aware of the hair that I tend. If I lend even ten minutes of drying time, it is ruined. I am ruined. I know that I must put hairspray in this effortlessly wild hair before I pull it back (while still damp) to avoid lumps, and to avoid an above average arm workout. Clearly I am no over achiever when it comes to hair. I shake the mousse bottle, listen to the grotesque gurgling sound as it reaches my hand. Run fingers through my hair. Ick. I wash my hands and hear the Dinosaur Train theme song.

My hair is not science. It's been long and I've been pulling it back since age twelve when I started fixing my own. Though wild, my hair is tamed by me.

I know what I'm doing.

This is not a hair moment.

Thursday - arriving by the skin of my teeth (after not peeing, drinking, or eating dinner) - I entered a room of a bajillion women. I am thankful that I will enter that same room tomorrow.

100% of these women are way more stylish than me. (I say that from a place of victory. Style is not a big goal of mine, though I do try because I like my job.)

{Okay, one minute for a funny story. The final time that I peed on Thursday was at hubby's school [the car trade]. I was overjoyed to meet my husband's co-worker [a female science-y comrade of his]. Okay, okay, I did try to turn on a little bit of the cuteness factor on Thursday. I pulled out all the tricks I know. The colored red (duh) jeans. My little brown boots. Layering tops. [Let it be known: I died of heat exhaustion. Hubby's air conditioner is out in his car.] And what did this dear woman say about the semi-maybe-a-little-bit-stylish-looking-Ashley? She said, and I quote: "Your wife is so put together." [Moment of silence. This may never happen again in my life. End moment of silence.] And how, you ask, did my husband respond? Great question. He laughed! Can you believe the nerve?! Husband, this was the moment to say, "My wife is amazing." or "Yep, she balances everything so well." or "Isn't she beautiful?!" But no. He laughed. I'm kind of glad that he did though because this woman replied, "So, she's just a typical mom, huh." Yes ma'am; I am.}

But let's get back to the point of this post. I am very, very out of my element. Not only because I sometimes get behind on laundry and wear my stylicious red denim with a hot pink Minnie Mouse shirt (you go girl) and my pink tennies. No, I am out of my element because I am at a conference meant for women with real influence online.

I am just a typical mom of a two-year-old whose blog is read by Mama and maybe a few people she grew up with. I have been asking myself this question all weekend: Why am I here?

The easy answer to this question is that I'm here with Rebecca. But that's not true. She didn't ask me to come (though she's happy I'm here), and I told her before I left that I would not ride her coattails. I am a big girl. I get my energy from people and parties and groups and interaction. So, I admitted that I was coming here for some other purpose entirely.

And can I just be brutally honest? Being here was a financial sacrifice. It shouldn't be, but Josh and I have had many unexpected expenses this month because we're grown-ups. We have cars and they break. This isn't a sob story; it's just the way the world works, but these unexpected things have caused me to wonder if I made a big mistake in coming to Influence.

I've heard a resounding NO from the Lord during my time here. No, Ashley, it is not a mistake that you're here. I have heard a few other things (mostly through other people), and tonight my tiny little .blogspot space is where I'm processing it all. And though I'm sort of allergic to lists (more of a paragraph girl), I give you ...

What I've Learned at Influence (so far):

• I learned that I cannot go any longer than one night without my baby. I was a mess. (He was totally fine, of course.) I absolutely adore John Beam. I absolutely do not adore being away from him for 24+ hours.
• I have been affirmed in my healing journey, scouting out lies and seeking truth in the wounded places. Since I live in a broken world, I have many such places. 
• I have been affirmed in my quest to know/review/obsess over/analyze/drink in my identity in Christ. In my quiet time with the Lord this morning, He called me friend (Matthew 20:13). It's been that kind of day, friends. 
• I was most looking forward to meeting this wonderful woman during my time here, and this morning I was a big, brave girl. I approached her, and I spent a solid hour gleaning wisdom from her words this afternoon. I learned that my writing is important. I, however, need to know my purpose for writing, which I sense myself coming by slowly. I am loving this, Lord. Jesus, speak. 
• I have a revived sense of purpose in reading good good writing. (I used to read good good writing all the time. I used to be a better writer.) I have been compiling a must-read list. (I'll be busy for awhile.)
• I was reminded how wonderful my friends are. One of my best friends is really seen. She's on the scene. She's changing the world one custom bag at a time. Her message tonight was true and honorable and just and pure and lovely and commendable, done with excellence and worthy of much praise (to God be the glory! {Philippians 4:8}). I am so insanely proud of her. My other best friend goes unseen at this conference. She is home. She kept both mine and Rebecca's babies today (along with her own + one in her belly + she is moving into her new home this weekend without our help). She is a doer. She works with willing hands. Strength and dignity are her clothing. She looks well to the ways of her household, and she does not (believe this) eat the bread of idleness (see Proverbs 31). I love you, Mandy; I am extraordinarily grateful to be your friend. Grace. 
• I learned that it's not really that difficult to meet new opportunities. Sometimes you just have to smile, shake hands and say hello. 

There's this long list of things (and that's not all), but I'm still not completely sure of why I'm here. Know this, I love this .blogspot space, and there is a fresh tendering in my heart towards it this weekend.

Finally, it has been so surreal to see all the Better Life Bags that I cut and prayed over. (Some of them may have even been cried over around last Christmas season.) The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad.

She

She was the hero. Once a woman, then a mother, then a legend. Always a princess full of grace. She was Sarah.

She is the bear. She raises her voice without talking. She has an opinion. She tells the truth. There are cracks, showing themselves now. She listened on the phone while granddaughter was at his house.

She is the lamb. She laid down her life. Three babies grew in her womb. One was  not to be. The other two were she. She pried. She pursued. She still will not let go.

She is beautiful. A little dingy. A little stressful. She is my favorite since always. No one will understand the way she gets me. I opened her mother's heart.

She is the one who is becoming. She is smart. She is unsure. She is changing. Oh, she makes me proud.

She is the one and only. Sister and sister and sister. Friend and friend and friend. Defender. Comforter. Partner. Champion. Advocate. Cheerleader. Friend. Sister. She is. She is my love.

She is the other bookend. A girl just like me. And I am letting her go. She is a very young woman. She trusts. She is humble. She is Yours.

He took my hand. He, full of grace. He raises his voice without talking. He will not let go. No one will understand the way he gets me. He makes me proud. He is the one and only, my love. He is Yours.

For though she raised me. Me and he are the way You meant it to be.
Me + he = little he. And now he is the best of she.

Hi, #InfluenceConf; I'm Ashley

Welp. I, Ashley S.W. Beam (the one who rarely bloggeth), I am going to the Influence Conference with other bloggers come two weeks from now. 

Anyone who is visiting my little piece of the Internet world for the first time, know this: ENFP. 

These four letters are the reason why I'm JUST. NOW. linking up. 

Also the reason why there is very little fear in me as I ferociously type these words. I am 80% extrovert, always home with a two-year-old. I canNOT wait to tear up this conference.  

Without further adieu ... 

Two things I will pack in my (Better Life) bag (Did I forget to mention that I work for Rebecca?):

1. Sharpie pens in all different colors. Amen.

2. My ninny (nursing) cover. (Two-year-old John aka ninny monster=extended breastfeeder + hubby=babysitter will be around. Thank God for them!)

Two things I'm most looking forward to:

1. Getting poured into on a heart level. (Really pumped to meet this lady.)

2. Encouraging others. 

Can't wait to see y'all there. 

Sweet Bee

There is a certain rhyme to how/what I pray for my son. 

When he was born, I felt completely overwhelmed with him. And as he's grown, I've felt overwhelmed with what to pray. 

This person. Josh and I are meant to shepherd. We know him better and love him more than almost anyOne else. We are equipped to pray. 

And so I was reading this book called Desperate a few months back, and the writers recommended choosing five ways in which I want to leave a legacy to my child(ren). My list became my daily prayer pattern for my John. 

I was asking God how He wanted me to pray for my (three marvelous) nephews a few nights ago, and He revealed that I should pray for them the same as John. I agreed. I want to love people (nephews, co-workers, neighbors, parents) with the same strength that I love my son. 

So, Mason & Jack, I've been praying this legacy into you as well. 

But today is Bee day. All. About. Hudson. 

The big baby we said hello to one year ago today. 

A doesn't get you like she does your brother. Yet. 

Sometimes life is mean and she lives too far away. 

But Bee, your A loves you. Oh, your A prays for you.

My warrior prince. You are cherished from afar. 

A misses you everyday. 

(My prayer for my trip in October is that I fully bond with YOU, my favorite fatty nephew ;)

And so, H-Bee, for your birthday, I dedicate this space to pray. It is my highest privilege to approach the throne with boldness on your behalf, precious. I adore you. 

Dear Father, 

I adore you. 

Your Father heart is so apparent as I've walked through life today. Thank you that You are to me what no one else can be. Thank you that as I hold Hudson, I know that You are to him as well. We pale in comparison to You & Your heart for sweet Bee. Thank You that You understand my boy. You. Get. Him. A, Mama, Daddy, Meme, Bubba, cousin John will NEVER understand Bee like you do. We will never minister to him like you do. 

Father, give us wisdom to love Bee boy and point him to You. 

Father, please draw Hudson to Jesus now, as he sleeps. I ask this in Jesus's powerful Name. 

Save his life from the pit. From himself. From the snares of the Enemy. By the powerful blood of Jesus.

Father, I pray for Hudson, that you would begin even now giving him a heart for people. We cannot obey you if we do not love our brothers. I pray that you'd begin helping Hudson love others by stopping his little hands from hitting. Please help him to obey his mommy and daddy in this. 

I pray that Hudson would love his brother well, and as he grows (and visits Detroit) and meets more people that you would give him a desire for relationships with others. Father, may he be a baby->man who considers others better than himself. Father, may he not consider people as an inconvenience or interruption. But may he sees as Jesus does. People are made beautiful in your image and to glorify You. Then, Father, may He respond to people appropriately. Give him compassion. Eyes to see needs. Availability. Stuff he's good at to give. And a heart full of love. Love for the people in your world.

Father, make Hudson low. Humble him under your mighty hand. May he know his place and submit to authority. Father, give him opportunity to work hard in what is another man's before you let him come into his own. And yes, Father, lift him up in due time. 

Father, make Hudson gracious. May his own hardships - all the times he gets knocked down - lead him to walk a bit lighter around others who have weaknesses, others who are insulted, others who face persecutions. ALLOW HIM THE GRACE OF EXPERIENCING YOUR GRACE. Nothing. Like. It. In. All. The. World. 

Please, please, please do not give us a religious (judge-y) boy like the Pharisees. Father, may Hudson be real - complete in You, Jesus, with a humble & gracious spirit. 

Father, may my Bee depend on you in everything. I don't really care what his Myers-Briggs preferences are, if only he trusts you. 

I don't want him to believe in you only. Because, Jesus, even demons believe. I don't want him to just understand that you're real. No, Father, I pray that Hudson experiences you and your love and your provision and hears your voice on a daily, hourly, moment-by-moment basis. 

Take my boy on an adventure of faith. In Jesus's Name. 

Father, please help Bee to live wholeheartedly and to live honestly. 

First of all, Father, whether he is riding four-wheelers (PROTECT HIM) or preaching the Word, may he live wholly. Wholly devoted to you and with passion & excellence in whatever he does, Father. 

And Lord, may he really be who he says he is. May he really do what he says he does. And may all his being and doing point the world CLEARLY to Jesus, the Lord. 

Finally, my prayer mantra over Hudson: 

From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force. (Matthew 11:12)

Father, may Bee be a man of violence for your kingdom, exerting all the energy and zeal given by You. Use my boy. He's here for You, Father. 

Thank you for our gift, one-year-old. 

I give him to you in Jesus's name.