literature of my soul

every few years, i re-read the joy of full surrender by father jean-pierre de caussade.

i cannot adequately express how essential this book is to my spiritual life.

it--or rather the lessons and truths contained within-- has carried me through darkness into the lord's marvelous light. it has encouraged me to let go, to let God. it has opened my eyes to a better way of life, a richer, more fulfilled, more peaceful one.

i have started it anew, as i always do when the clouds of anxiety and self-doubt and stress begin to descend around me, threatening to wrench away the peace in my heart.

i work very hard for the peace. it does not come easily for me, nor does maintaining absolute trust in God, in his plan for my life, in his perfect timing and divine care.

this book helps so much, coupled with the daily meditations of God calling.

take today's word for example:
rest knowing all is so safe in My hands. rest is trust. ceaseless activity is distrust. ...
 how foolish are your attempts to save yourself, one hand on the rope, and one making efforts to swim ashore. you may relinquish your hold of the rope and hinder the rescuer...  
the final stage [is] when the saved soul trusts Me so entirely it seeks no more its own way, but leaves all future plans to Me its rescuer. 

i earnestly desire that level of peace, of surrender, of trust. i long for the day that i can wake up and say with all my heart, today is yours, Lord. guide me through it as You will.

i say it now, but half-heartedly. i offer my day to Him, then go about my ceaseless activity, bouncing from one project to the next at breakneck speed, without giving Him the chance to break through the noise.

so in this moment, Lord, i stop. i breathe. i quiet myself.

i look for You. because all it takes is one glance, and my heart is captivated.

help me to be still and know that You are God, in control and in perfect awareness of my needs, desires, and capacities.

the first chapter of the joy of full surrender is titled: holiness is faithfulness to God's will.

Lord, you do not demand success, but ask for effort.

today, i will try to listen, to be faithful, and to surrender more perfectly to Your will.

photo credit: taken from http://h3sean.com/relationship-surrender/

prerequisites for sainthood.

Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you,
All things pass away:
God never changes.
Patience obtains all things.
He who has God
Finds he lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.

~St. Teresa of Avila. 

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory,
    my understanding, and my entire will.
All I have and call my own,
Whatever I have or hold, you have given me.
I return it all to you and surrender it wholly
    to be governed by your will.
Give me only your love and your grace
    and I am rich enough and ask for nothing more.

~St.Ignatius, The Spiritual Exercises.

my heart is restless

The Lord uses all things to teach us. I know this to be true and have seen the evidence of it throughout my life, usually months to years after the fact. We need some distance, some perspective to see exactly how the Lord brought us through a trial, exactly what He was trying to show us.

I am blessed and humbled to say that the Lord has been so merciful to me in regards to healing from my miscarriage. There are so many things that could have gone wrong, that could have been worse. But instead, I emerged from the valley physically unscathed (or at least, so they tell me). I'm tremendously grateful to the Lord that my womb was preserved from further damage.

But my huge cross now is the waiting. Some women have a mountain of healing to climb before they can even fathom getting pregnant again. I have the endless trickle of time to face. I have this tremendous desire to feel life in me. I was so ready, so ecstatic to be with child the first time around, but the Lord in His eternal wisdom chose to bring that life home to Himself. Thanks be to the Lord from who all good things come.

Now that I have mourned, and equally rejoice in having a baby in heaven, I'm just so ready to know I have a little one inside me. I ask our baby in heaven to intercede at the feet of Jesus, to ask that this new pregnancy, whenever the Lord brings it, be healthy and safe. I'm just ready, Lord. Why not now?

And so I wrestle again with the utter lack of control. Just as I was unable to retain the life of my baby in heaven with all my strivings and worryings, I am unable to manufacture life in my womb just because I want it so much. I have to wait for God's time to be now.

But it is so hard to wait. It is so hard to believe that God's timing, His plan is the perfectly best one. I say to Him in prayer, "But Lord, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I am healed from my hurt, I am ready to move on and get this next baby's life started."

And still, He asks me to wait. Whether it be this month, or next month, or next year, I have to believe that He will bring the newest member of our family when it truly is the right moment for us. I may think I know what that moment is. But I know that years from now, when I gather my children into my arms and whisper to them how very much I love them, I will look on this moment and realize that yes, God, You DID in fact have it all under control.

Worry accomplishes nothing. Peace achieves all.

What I've Learned from Prayer Group and LOST

My parents have a weekly prayer group that normally meets on Thursday nights. Imagine the craziness that breaks loose when they decide to change things up a bit and have it on Friday night this week!

I have blogged about this group before here (if you want the full experience, I wrote down another message that was spoken). If you live in the Fort Myers, Florida area perchance, contact me if you are interested in attending. Seriously, it's been a great blessing for many years.

Yesterday, I could sense the Lord speaking to my heart, and surprise, surprise, it was yet another continuation of the peace vs. anxiety theme that's been ongoing this week. This was the message:

Wanted: Non-Perfectionist to be Mother to Baby Boy

I had an interesting conversation with a good friend recently about parenting and perfection. This person, who is a dear, dear friend, commented that she didn't ever think that she would feel ready to start a family. She said that the heavy responsibility of raising children was too awesome to contemplate, when she didn't even feel her own life was fully on track or under control.

Do I ever know that feeling. So often, I am overwhelmed at the thought of what I have committed myself to. One day, I will stand before Almighty God and say, "Lord, this is what you gave me and this is what I did with that gift." The greatest gift the Lord bestows is that of life, and He allows us, weak and inadequate as we are, to participate in that act of creation.

Crooked Lines Made Straight

Today was one of those not quite so fun days of mommyhood. One of those days that can, if you look just at particular instances rather than the entire whole, seem as an epic fail. You know you've had days like that. I actually accomplished quite a bit today, but it paled next to the things I failed to accomplish.

And all because I am now at the service of a little man who throws his weight around like you wouldn't believe. Yes, my son is adorable, but sometimes, he can be quite challenging too. And then he looks at me with those little eyes, the ones that say, "Yes, Mommy, you are the most important person in my universe," and I melt into a thousand little pieces of love.

Recovering Perfectionist Learns to Surrender

For the last six years, I have had the pleasure and blessing of attending a charismatic prayer group, as well as leading the worship for it. I cannot tell you the incredible freedom, joy, and peace I have experienced as a result. It's so crucial to have that fellowship, to have others to share in life's blessings and burdens, and to call you on in your walk with the Lord.

The Bigger Picture

You wouldn't think that a baby screaming in the backseat could provide a profound life lesson to ponder. Yet, somehow, he does.

Become As A Little Child

Incredible, how frequently each day I must sacrifice myself. A few weeks ago, I asked the Lord how I could be a better mother, what I could do to love better, and He said to me, "Little one, every single act you do as a mother is one of selfless love." It overwhelms me, and I fall to my knees and beg for the grace and strength I could never have on my own. My heart simply isn't big enough. But His grace is sufficient and He supplies all we lack.

Today, I endured one of the heartbreaking moments of motherhood. Not my baby bumping his head or falling off the couch (Thank God), but still another source of mommy anxiety (at least for me): baby vaccinations. Matthew is such a champ, and only cries for a little bit, but with every sob my heart aches a little more. 

Now, I did my research for myself, and will not use this blog as a soapbox to iterate the pros/cons of vaccinations. Every mom needs to decide that for herself and for the best good of her little one. I chose to give Matthew his vaccines, and as such have to steel myself every two months for my little one's chubby thighs (oh-so-delicious and squeeze-worthy) to be pricked with needles. I know the benefits are undeniable, but let me tell you, the mama bear in me wants to rip the needles out of that nasty nurse's hands and chase her out of the run for wounding my baby. And while I'm hyperventilating and racing through Hail Mary's ten at a time, Matthew is crying, and then sniffling, and then hiccuping, and then... a smile. All better, Mommy. And I smile back at him through my own tears and aching heart, and say, "My brave boy."

I know now the truth in what my mother always told me, "Gaby, this will hurt me much more than it hurts you..."


And then it struck me: I will bear a heavier cross for having had my little boy, because I will not only bear my own suffering, but that of my beautiful son. He may not be destined to save the world (as was another Son born in Bethlehem). But my Matthew will have his own share of sorrows, and as his mother, I will look on and share all. Sometimes, I'll be able to make it better with a kiss and a Band-Aid. Sometimes, all I will be able to do is cry with him, pray with him, look for meaning with him, suffer with him, and let him


It is the lot of the mother to share burdens beyond her own, and to bear these things in her heart. Am I ready for that, Lord? Only with Your grace, which surpasses understanding. Only then, will my selfish heart be able not only to endure my own suffering, but willing shoulder the sorrow of my children, however small or excruciating. With my own mother as an example, I have witnessed -more so in the past few years, as my mother has become less a authority figure and more a friend- how often a mother must set aside her own trials, to be a source of comfort and wisdom for her little ones. It is a cross added to her cross, but a joyful burden.


My heart aches when my son suffers. My sorrow is inextricably joined to his, and his joy increases mine. I am reminded of how this is an image of what our relationship with God the Father ought in fact be. As His children, His glorification ought be our primary goal and joy, and His suffering ought cause us sorrow. I am learning, little by little, so very much from my new role as mother. I am learning what it means to love unconditionally, what it means to surrender, to trust. I am learning to place all in the hands of my own Father in Heaven, begging for the grace to be what Matthew needs me to be, while growing in my own personhood.


I need to be more like my son. Even as I love him, play with him, teach him, I must never forget that I am called to be more like him - childlike. Trusting that the Lord will never allow me to experience agony without purpose, for my own best good. Resting in His peace, knowing that here alone can I never be harmed. Knowing with absolute certainty that my needs will always be met. For He is my Abba, my Daddy in Heaven. And He will never allow me to suffer without bearing the brunt of it Himself. Maybe someday I'll endure through some suffering without kicking and screaming the whole time. Maybe it'll be me who cries a little, but then clings to the One who is my strength, saying, All better Daddy! And He'll smile lovingly, knowing that it is His grace that carries me through each trial, and say "My brave girl."