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Barren to Beautiful

Why Dishes Are Still In My Sink

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22 Jul

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I didn’t finish my dishes tonight. I love when they are finished. Because I can come down to clean kitchen the next morning, brew my coffee and start the day fresh.

But I didn’t finish them tonight. Half are still soaking in the sink. With food stuck to the plates. And BBQ sauce sticking to my crockpot.

Tomorrow I will go downstairs to a messy kitchen. I will have to stick my hand in the cold water and unplug the drain. (Something I hate doing.) And I will have to start my day doing the dishes I didn’t do tonight.

But do you know what I DID do tonight?

I popped popcorn on the stove with my daughter Selah, who is 4-years-old. Because she wanted to have a “fun” night. All week she kept saying she wanted to have a “fun” night where we popped popcorn and watched a movie and danced to music.

So I decided tonight was going to be the “fun” night.

And it really was.

She stood on the counter as the popcorn popped on the stove. And she laughed hysterically, the whole time, at every single kernel as it popped. It wasn’t really that funny, but it was “fun” night, so I joined her in forced laughter for five straight minutes.

We started the movie, “Because Of Win-Dixie,” and sat together on the floor holding our big bowl of popcorn.

And she fed me.

Every couple handfuls of popcorn that went into her mouth, she would pick up a piece and put it carefully to my mouth. But there was so much love in her eyes.

I obliged.

After all, it was the “fun” night.

So, we took turns feeding each other. The movie played on and there we were looking like two newlyweds at their wedding reception, but instead of feeding each other cake, it was popcorn. And we couldn’t stop laughing.

And she put her arm around me. And I didn’t want to leave her side.

The dishes were calling me.

But tonight, I just stayed. I just sat by her side, and watched the movie all the way through.

She put princess stickers on my shirt. Carefully, one by one.

And…

She told me she loved me.

And it felt good. To just fully give myself to her.

For once.

To breathe in her sweet scent. .

I remember the first time I smelled her. The snowy night she was born, when they laid her slippery little body on my chest. And I wrapped my frail, shaky arms around her. And all at once, I loved her. All of me, loved all of her.

And an avalanche happened in my heart.

Of love.

Baby girl. 

Come back. 

She’s not a baby anymore. She’s four.

But on nights like this. When we’re wrapped in eachother’s arms. She is mine, and I am hers.

And there’s nothing more sacred, more holy, then these moments with her. Getting low and laying on the carpet.

Feeding each other popcorn.

And laughing at all the funny parts.

Because it’s “fun” night.

And I love her.

And by some miracle, she loves me.

With a love more tender, and kind, and gentle, than I am worthy of.

With stickers.

And popcorn.

And her tiny arm tightly around me.

Because tonight, there was this moment when I looked over at her laughing, and I was laughing, and just for a moment she felt more like sister, than my daughter. Like my friend.

And I’m going to remember this, tomorrow morning. When I wake up and go downstairs. And stick my hand in the cold water and unplug the kitchen sink. Because I’ll be wondering why I didn’t choose the dishes.

 

And I know, moms, we can’t spend ALL our days playing with our kids. Our houses would eventually collapse in a pile of rubble.

But let’s be honest, how much time do we actually spend playing with our kids?

(Without our phone handy, so we can space out on Facebook…which is what I usually do.)

I don’t play with my daughter enough.

Tonight, though, for a change, I just needed to “clock-out” from being Susie Homemaker. Because there are always dishes in the sink. There’s always one more thing to do.

And it’s always something important.

(To me.)

 

But she’s important, too. And it’s more important to her, that I lay on the floor, and let her feed me popcorn, and cover my shirt with stickers.

Tomorrow, I’m going to trip over the pillows on the living room floor.

And I’ll be sure to find some stray popcorn kernals on the stove.

And yes, I’ll reach into that nasty cold sink water.

But she’s the reason my dishes are still in the sink. 

My daughter.

My sister. 

My friend. 

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4 Comments

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Kay’s Testimony: Miracle After Miscarriages »

Comments

  1. Lynda Dietz says

    July 28, 2017 at 6:02 am

    I loved those times when my children were little. I didn’t always make as much “fun” time as I wanted, but when I did—and was all in—we had genuine fun that they still remember now at ages 17, 21 and 23.

    Absolutely the BEST reason for a dirty sink. Those dishes will still be there and you won’t have missed a thing.

    Reply
    • Rebekah says

      August 1, 2017 at 12:56 am

      I love how you said that Lynda, when you were “all in”…kids are smart. They can really tell when you are “all in” and when you aren’t! I’m hoping for more times of being “all in” , and more “fun nights!” I always love your thoughtful insights. <3

      Reply
  2. Michelle says

    July 31, 2017 at 1:08 pm

    So beautiful? Thank you for the reminder! I’m just waking up for the day so this will help me to choose what is most important. We have 4 kids age 9 and under and it is really hard to spend quality time with each of them as much as I would like. I am going to try and choose them over the housework more often. ?

    Reply
    • Rebekah says

      August 1, 2017 at 12:54 am

      I’m glad you can relate! Go enjoy them! 🙂

      Reply

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Hi, I’m Rebekah Fox.

I was once a barren woman. I had a barren womb, and a very barren soul. But God saw me in my barrenness--and He delivered me. Not only of a barren womb, but a barren soul, too. He opened my eyes to His beauty all around me. And every day, I need Him to do it again, in my heart, and in my spirit. To take me from Barren to Beautiful. Because I am weak, and broken, and sinful, but He--He is beautiful. If the Spirit has led you here, perhaps He wants to take your barrenness away--and birth something more beautiful than you ever imagined.

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Rebekah Fox

barrentobeautiful

I help women struggling with infertility to hope in Christ and allow Him to transform them from barren to beautiful—on the inside. 🌸

You’re invited 🌿 The past 3 summers I’ve i You’re invited 🌿

The past 3 summers I’ve invited my readers and friends to join me in a social media fast—

and it has been extremely restorative and fruitful. 

I want to invite you to join me for this, because I have experienced how freeing this has been. It begins on June 1, but you could join whenever you are reading this.:)

There are two choices:
The Sprint—fasting June 1-July 1 🏃🏻‍♀️ 

The Marathon—fasting June 1-September 1 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

The thing is, while I love following so many of your beautiful profiles (especially those of you who write for the glory of God) the truth is, you’re not the reason I’m going. It’s everything else.

I’ve found that my soul needs breaks from scrolling, from information, from watching, and from the many voices and opinions, and the idolatry that I’m so prone to adore and replicate.

Summer has become for me, a beautiful growing time. A quiet time, and a hidden time. 

If you choose to do one of these fasts—you will miss out. You will miss out on the happenings in the Christian world, you will miss out on being seen, you will miss out on the latest controversy, and the latest debate. 

But what you will gain, is so much more. 

For you will discover the forgotten beauty of the secret place.🌿

This summer, let your greatest ambition to be this: to know Him.

Nothing could be more freeing.
Nothing could be more fruitful.

Abide in him, and he will abide in you. He is the vine, and you are the branches and apart from him, we can do nothing. 

It’s a practical move this fast. It feels like pruning shears. But he only prunes, to make us more fruitful. 

This is my last night here for a while. 

I just felt prompted to invite you on this adventure, too.🌿
I won’t see you, but God will see you. And that’s all that really matters.

The link in my bio will explain everything about how the fast works.

If you do need to get in touch, you can email me at barrentobeautifulblog@gmail.com

Happy summer!🌿

Photo cred: My daughter when we visited the @wildandfree.co Forest Cabin 2 summers ago 🌿
Early on in my writing for #ttc women, I realized Early on in my writing for #ttc women, I realized my blog posts were not enough. These grieving women needed more than a blog post, or a Facebook comment. The women with empty wombs and longing hearts—needed something to hold in their hands. 
Hope. 
They needed the hope of Christ.

I’m delighted to say my dear friends @jennmhesse and @kelramsey at @waiting.in.hope Infertility Ministry have brought this hope to bear in their new book, “Waiting in Hope.”

This is the book I would have read from the bathroom floor on the nights I wept for a baby and God felt so silent and far away. This was the book I wished I had walking the lonely journey of infertility—too ashamed to ask for help, or even prayer. 

If you are a woman #ttc let this book be the gift you buy yourself for this Mother’s Day. 

Like two, gentle loving sisters who have walked this path, Jen and Kelly will lead you to wait in Hope—for the One who himself is Hope.

He sees you. He hears you. 
And you are not alone. 
Not anymore. 

There is a beautiful community of women, full of faith, compassion, and hope that long to come around you at @waiting.in.hope . 

But you can start here, by reading these 31 reflections for walking with God through infertility. You will be so glad you did. I promise.

**a few notes about these pictures.
I wanted this book with my tulips because I have to wait so long through the winter for them to grow. They are to me, the symbol of hope each spring.🌷

Second, to get the book to lay flat, in pic #5 I had to open my hand. And it reminded me, of how infertility was a season of unclenching my fists, and opening my hands in faith and surrender and worship. Open hands are also the only posture for receiving. And I pray this book opens yours.

May this book bless you and infuse you with real, living, tangible hope. Which is, the hope of Jesus. 🌿

Purchase at 
@waiting.in.hope and follow this amazing community of support! #ttc #infertility #infertilityawareness #hope
Ah, the words I most needed to hear this morning—once again—come from God’s Word through the prophet Isaiah! A woe to those who are tempted to trust in FLESH and not SPIRIT. (That’s me!) And a call to return to the Lord, the Holy One of Israel. For he, too, is “wise and brings disaster.” 

I love what Alec Motyer writes in his commentary—which has counseled my heart so many mornings, but especially this one:
“The Lord never merely reacts to events as if sprung on him. He has prepared all beforehand is totally master of the situation.”

I encourage you to read Isaiah 31, and see Motyer’s notes here. See if your heart does tremble at the Holy One of Israel. See with what piercing accuracy the word of God penetrates your heart. 

And his final note—the blood of the lamb did not seem like enough for the Angel of death to pass over—but it was. His ways are higher than our ways, his thoughts are higher than our thoughts.

Whatever God says, is true, and right. He alone is God—He is totally master of the situation. More than we could ever know or understand. He is worthy of all trust, all praise, all worship. I remind you, as I remind myself:
Do not rely on the flesh, for what only the Spirit of God can do. 💛
💛 💛
“I invited you, but you did not come.” It see “I invited you, but you did not come.”

It seems like a love letter, sometimes, this book, raw, aching words—though they come from God. What we see here is an invitation and a reproof. I imagine it almost like getting a beautiful wedding invitation, saying “this is what we could have had,” but then at the bottom are the painful words, “…but you were unwilling.” 

You refused to trust me, you refused to come after me, and you frantically panicked and went after other gods—who cannot save you. 

I don’t mean to add anything that’s not there, just pondering this one line out of the whole chapter 30 of Isaiah. I’ve wanted to write this verse at the end of cards and letters, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength…” and just end it there. Except I cannot edit out the very heart of God to fit my nice letter of comfort. The reproof is attached, “But you were unwilling.” These words pierce my heart. 

And I only share them to marvel at the heart of God. To allow His words to be wielded, to let them pierce our hearts. Nothing is sharper than the word of God. And it is good to ponder His word—even when it brings a sorrow, it is a godly sorrow that leads to repentance. It stings sometimes, but we must read the whole counsel of God. We must not gut it of the difficult parts. For in it, God’s heart is exposed to us—and it’s a heart so loving as we’ve never seen in anyone on earth. (Except, in the person of Jesus Christ!) 

Shortly after this, the Lord calls his people back, so tenderly it brings me to tears. What kind of love is this? What kind of God is this? Surely one who is worthy of our whole hearts, and whole lives, and ALL of our trust. 

Let us stay close to His Word, that we may know his heart. Nothing is more piercing or precise for today. He knew what He was doing when He breathed out these living words. We need them. They are life to us—for they lead to HIM. That we may know HIM as He is, and not merely as we think Him to be. 🧡 He is more wonderful than I ever thought, and still far greater than I know. I cannot probe the depths of His heart, and yet, through His word and Spirit, He probes the depths of mine.
Oh, listen to what God says in Isaiah 51:5-6! 
💛 

Lift up your eyes…

“…but my salvation will be forever, 
and my righteousness will never be dismayed.”
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