Recently, Daddy D and I altered our plans, ones we’ve had in place for many years. Before I agreed to the change, I choked up inside because I knew. Deep inside, I knew.

It’s time to let go.


With deep breaths and the allowance of a few tears, I made this subtle shift in my heart which seemed so small, yet so big. Because sometimes you have to say good-bye to one dream in order to make room for the next one.

“OK, Lord. I hear you. It’s time to embrace the change taking place. It’s time to admit I can’t take this on right now and it’s OK to let it go. {gulp} In fact, I must. Help me. I’m not sure I can do this because it hurts to lose one more thing. Please, help me.”

Why does letting go feel like deep loss at times? Why does it hurt so much to say no to self and yes to God?


Where releasing control means gaining freedom.

Never easy. Always worth it.

Sow Surrender for Faith to Grow

Years ago I dreamed wide-eyed of many things. OK, I still do. But some of those dreams change over time and you can’t hold on to all of them or none of them will be much good.

I dreamed of our half-acre lot filled with all the mini-homesteading we could do. Chickens, a large garden area with multiple raised beds, fruit trees, herbs galore, flowering plants for nutritional and medicinal uses as well as beauty, and even a secondary garden for vines such as grapes & blackberries.

We worked hard and planned for abundant harvests to come.

Then we moved our family to foster multiple children in a large home on 156 acres we didn’t own. We would give. We would serve. We would love. And I thought we’d have an organic garden. As all the possibilities lined up like dominoes, I saw pieces of our hopes and dreams ready to go in one fell swoop. I couldn’t wait to see these dreams come true.

Month after month went by and the garden remained wishful thinking. It became apparent that my plans weren’t going to be a part of whatever may or may not ever take place. I grieved the loss of dreams, the dismissal of excitement and the fruition of beauty which I had anticipated.

Meanwhile, we walked through numerous trials of all kinds on a daily basis. Not only did the garden not go as planned, neither did a number of other dreams my heart held onto. Squeezed out were the thoughts of what I thought could be and would be. One by one the losses hit and the stresses mounted. My need to rely on provision outside myself became ever more apparent.

At home, the trees continued to grow. So did a whole lot of weeds.

In my heart, weeds of pain, grief, exhaustion, doubt, fear, and anxiety grew plentiful as the dominoes fell. To the ground.

Completely overwhelmed, we moved home the summer of 2013. Within a little over a month our family, which had grown to fifteen people, was down to five. Then, a few months later, there were four of us.

I struggled to take anymore loss. The smallest material change, like when our neighbor’s dog grabbed my new favorite sandal and chewed it up, sent me in a tailspin. My overflowing cup of pain had no bandwidth to handle an annoyance such as this.

Here we are nearing the summer of 2016 and loss still grips like a straight-jacket. I have to breathe slowly and take intentional steps to allow the emotions of grief to play out while reminding myself I’m going to be OK. Because God is asking me to let another thing go.

Do I trust Him?

This question continually begs an answer. The answer is one I find hard to say yes to with the fervor of true belief.

Do I trust Him?

My head says yes, but my heart shakes and I am faced with the truth of where my allegiance lies. Self-provision or God-provision. Whom will it be? What choice will I make?

What would you do?

Today, I’m choosing God even though I don’t feel one hundred percent confident. I’m choosing to hold on to the very prompting I would give anyone else, “Take that small step of faith even if you’re afraid. God honors every step towards His heart.”

You and I, we’re hope and faith pursuers. We choose to stop focusing on self, and focusing on loss. Rather, we choose to focus on Him and find our gain. Right? (insert yes or at least a subtle nod here, dear one)


Daddy D and I tore down the fence. He removed the cinder blocks. We opened up new ground for new things.

Eventually the grass will grow. New beauty will be created. The ground of time opens up for new things in our hearts and eventually new life will burst forth and abundance will shine through.

God is a God of redemption and renewal, may we choose to put our trust in His plans and His ways. I won’t have the garden I’ve dreamed of, at least not now, but I will have the freedom to grow the things which God desires to see become fruitful. You can too.

Because sometimes you have to clear the land to make room for what God has planned.

Then, when we choose to sow the seed of surrender, faith grows.

Have you sown the seeds of surrender lately?
How have you seen God’s faithfulness as you, or someone else you know, has surrendered to His will?