Dear Me: Lines to the Woman I Want To Be

Like brush strokes on a canvas,

mark upon mark, bringing a picture into focus,

I will be a woman marked by the beauty of Christ,

Always shaping more to His ways.

Habits, humility, wonder, gratitude.

Mark upon mark.

By the strength of his Spirit…

I will be a woman marked by LOVE

I once heard someone say that children spell love T-I-M-E, and I will commit to giving time to my own – a high, holy, and hard calling.

I’ll start within my home and move outward in love, but always under the umbrella of His love.

My first Love- I’ll declare His steadfast love in the morning,

And His faithfulness at night, and let that shape me.

Joy! I will be a woman marked by JOY

When I think abundance equates to things or titles, status or followers,

I’ll say it again— this is not what ultimately satisfies.

Fullness of JOY is in the presence of the Lord.

Stay by the source.
Like all the greenest plants are right there along the river's edge.🌿

Seek Him first, the Living water.🌊

(That means first).

Sit with His words every morning.

And it just keeps hitting me:

God knew what he was doing when he asked us to serve the poor, seek out the lost, offer extravagant love to the orphan, the widow, the prisoner. He knew they will not be the only ones who are blessed. Joy follows.

I will be a woman marked by PEACE

I will wake up to prayer, and mark the day by prayer.

Prayer reorients and relinquishes control.

I will confess and repent, positioning myself for peace.

My trust in God will be evident in the quality of my peace.

Fear clings to control.

Peace trusts.

I will be a woman marked by PATIENCE

Pulsating envy gnaws away at patience.

I envy another person, another timeline, clawing for control of it all.

But remember what Jesus told his friend Peter? Don’t worry about that other man’s story. What is that to you? You follow me.

Patience is not demanding my own way from God or from others.

I will be a woman marked by KINDNESS

A profound act of kindness? Sacrificial generosity. Generosity - with my time, money, gifts - is the hard and best way to live.

I once heard someone say attention will be the depleting currency of the future.

I’ll stay focused, captivated by small moments with those I love and those I want to love better. I will generously give attention like a prized commodity.

My children and I talk about the Psalm often: A cheerful heart is good medicine.May my life reflect cheerful kindness.

I will be a woman marked by GOODNESS

Good habits create good days.

Goodness leans into the good gifts of God.

So…

God has given us this means of writing:

Write out life’s issues and perplexing problems, to work it all out between you and Him. Slows us to see it all more clearly.

Creating is not just for artists:

Pattern after the master Creator and bring good work into the world, whatever your work.

Create good work to reflect the goodness of God.

Always go out:

Science shows that this earth God made for us actually heals us.

Nature and exercise alter our minds and bodies.

Enjoy it, care for it, protect it – every day.

Get outside and feel the good.

Treat food as a gift:

Sustenance and enjoyment, not abuse or overuse.

And always keep reading, keep learning, keep listening.

I will be a woman marked by FAITHFULNESS

When I have less and less time to be in the Word,

that’s the exact time I need more of it. Always start there.

Be faithful in this calling:

A life poured out is a life filled up.

And

A life filled up in Him can be a life poured out in wonderous ways.

Fill up, pour out, and repeat.

I will be a woman marked by GENTLENESS

I will walk in wonder

of the Creator and all that he’s created.

Wonder leads to worship.

Gentle days, slow and steady.

Gentle answers turn away wrath.

Gentleness shows the Spirit at work in me.

I will be a woman marked by SELF-CONTROL

Anger and emotions sway in and out through the day.

In severe times, desperation happens.

I’ll bring all those feelings, all weak and crumbling, to the feet of Jesus because that’s the very best place to sit desperately. (I know this well.)

Self-control isn’t best accomplished through lots of strain and struggle to be better, but through submission and supplication.

I will let HIM be the strength I need for self-control.

Mark upon mark to create your intended design, Lord.

I pray that the fruit of your Spirit
working in me and through me
is evident in the woman I want to be.

Dwelling

I think it was in the tiny apartment on the troubled block when I first began thinking about the idea of dwelling. The neighborhood had a higher crime rate than any I’d ever lived in and, I confess, I cried on move-in day. We hauled our boxes up the stairs, no elevator, past the wild-eyed woman who sat on them all day, past the guy who dealt the drugs another floor up. I wasn’t calmed by the sound of gunshots in the street at night, nor by the loud fights in our stairwell.

And what I began to think about was how out-of-control circumstances can feel suffocating, except when we live with an in-control God. We can live somewhere or through something, while we simultaneously dwell in the shelter of the Most High, as Psalm 91 says. It says the person who dwells in the true shelter finds rest in that refuge.

Despite the rats and roaches, we painted the walls, hung homemade curtains, and our 400 sq ft began to feel like home (and a penthouse compared to our previous 250 sq ft). We had our reasons for choosing this block, and in time we found there were even more. Hard things that changed us, I hope. It was also a training ground for some strengthening we’d need a few years down the road in a different neighborhood.

Circumstantial changes can be really good in hard seasons, but they’re not always possible or occasionally not even right. But the peace of God transcends circumstance. It must, and it does because He says He’s near to those who seek Him and abide in Him.

Within a few years, we brought home our first baby, introducing him on the way up to the wild-eyed woman on the stairs, now a friend with a name. And a while after that, I cried when it was time to move out.

Art That Speaks

A few years ago, I came across the name Adrianus Miolée, a Dutch painter whose quiet painting once hung in Corrie ten Boom's bustling home in Haarlem, just outside Amsterdam. He lived in the time of her family, walking the same cobblestone streets.

Corrie, a Holocaust survivor and author of The Hiding Place, spent her later years traveling the world sharing a message of forgiveness and the love of God. By her side for nearly a decade was Ellen de Kroon, a young woman who served as her assistant. When Ellen married, Corrie gave her one of the last possessions from her family home: the painting by Miolée. Ellen still has it to this day. (I’ve had the privilege of connecting with Ellen over the past couple years, and her stories are every bit as meaningful as Corrie’s books.)

So you can imagine my awe when I found one of Miolee’s works myself, this one depicting the sand dunes outside Haarlem, a place Corrie often referenced in her book, In My Father’s House. It now hangs in my home, a symbol of faithfulness, connection, and perseverance.

This is why I create and collect art:

Not just to fill a space, but to tell a story.

To anchor meaning in the rooms where we live and work.

To remind us of things worth remembering.