I would love to powerfully connect with God every single morning when I rise to give Him the first part of my day. Sometimes I'm tired, distracted, or find that I just don't know what to say.

I like to think I've learned a "hack" to connect my intention to commune with God to my distracted, sleepy reality.

I've been reaching out to the generous hands who have held us on the mission field. I am always surprised to pick up right where I left off with college roommates, childhood teachers, mentors, and friends from lifetimes ago. It's been refreshing to give thanks repeatedly and remember how God has provided.

God put a picture in my mind before I had children. I was sitting on the floor with piles of laundry, toys everywhere, and everything out of order. I could almost feel the chaos in the scene. In it, God whispered, "Daughter, you never have to live in chaos."

This week, my youngest children danced and played in our back garden. They were lovingly tucked into their safe, warm beds every night while I kept careful watch over them with baby monitors. Meanwhile, a few kilometers away, our city was in utter disarray.

A violent, week-long taxi strike in Cape Town kept hundreds of thousands of teachers and learners away from school and employees away from work. Kids just like mine lost parents as the strike became murderous.

Our missional family has the benefit of being keenly aware of God's miraculous provision each month when bills are paid and food is on the table. God gives us what we need, when we need it. Not more or less. When we've tried to increase our monthly support to fully cover our needs without those "please, please, please" eeky squeaky prayers, the funds don't come. There's always space for a miracle in our budget. The real miracle is knowing we need God and finding Him in our need.

My primary job description looks more like "rodeo wrangler" than "mom" with three boys. People often tell me I have my hands full. A common, heartfelt question pointed at me is, "Are you getting any 'me time'?" I always smile back and say, "Of course not!"

What is God's will for my life?

If, somewhere within us, exists a purpose grand enough for the Son of Man to lay down his life, we want to make sure our lives mean something. We think about our purpose when we come upon a crossing of the narrow and wide roads, life seasons or relationships change, or when we can't find our fit in this world.

God dreamt every facet of you before He formed you (Jer 1:5). You and I are created in the image of God, to hope for things still unseen. Dreaming is innate to our design.

I know this intimately. Still, I wonder if I dreamt the wrong dreams or was completely off track when the good things I pray for don't come to pass. Do I risk dreaming again? Do I keep hoping?

I've been wrestling with my Maker lately. My past-tense prayers snared me this week, and I stumbled under the weight of unrealized dreams.

I don't wonder if He is good. I don't question my shortsightedness in comparison to His sovereignty. But still, the desires of my heart pound against the realities of my flesh like an internal war. I wonder "Why?" - even when I will myself to stop.

Teenage me loved buying soundtrack CDs. The music behind the movie often says more than the script. It cues your emotions and sets the stage for the next thing.

My teenager has mastered the art of creating personal soundtracks. He has a playlist for game day, short car trips, long car trips, sleepovers with friends, chores, and almost anything he does. Our reality is that we are always hearing something, whether it's others' opinions or your own thought track. I think my son is onto something by choosing what he wants to hear to prepare him for what he's doing.

Benjamin lives with an unusual form of autism called Extreme Demand Avoidance.

Most people's primary drive is survival. Our brains will do anything to ensure we have food, water, and air. Benjamin, and kids like him, have a primary drive for autonomy and equality.

I had GREAT intentions this week, yet somehow I managed to really stuff things up. In an effort to strengthen a relationship, I dwelt on our weaknesses instead. It was a full-on disaster. I feared the words I couldn't un-say caused damage I couldn't undo.

God spoke, "Hallelujah" when I asked Him for a word to hold on to for the year 2018. I excitedly deemed it "My Hallelujah Year" and looked forward to the hip-hip-hoorays ahead. That year turned out to be one of the deepest, darkest, and hardest of all the years. There were very few celebratory moments and very many hours spent bowed in desperate prayer.

Wise King Solomon said, "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens." (Eccl 3:11) This week felt like all the seasons were happening at once in my house! It was a time for birthday celebrations, gathering of friends, exams, rugby practice, and the flu! I actually thought, "I know King Solomon was busy leading a nation and building the temple, but did he ever try that with sick kids!?!"

My good intentions proved to be feeble this week. My strong will could not hold the line. (And I'm good at making things happen!)

I've been trying to change the way I think about things and rearrange my own priorities. My stubborn plans are the defense while the truth I want to live by is offense. It can be hard to name a victor in an internal battle.

No one imagines themselves in that dark of a place, where every movement and even not moving causes crippling pain. But we've all been there.

If you've followed along with us, you've probably read that Benjamin struggles with an unusual form of autism. We've developed a great support team in the last 12 months, but there is no better support system than his big brother. I just had to sneak a few pictures this morning of this unexplainable love in action.

My 4-year old son is a psalmist in his own right. He creates his own songs and sings wherever we go. He sings stories from the Bible and about his love for Jesus... and sometimes about cats and Hot Wheels. Because he's four.

I love a quiet mornings with my Bible. This week, I read the story of Noah's Ark. Genesis gives an incredible account of when the world was covered with water, when God tried to wash away evil. He painted a rainbow promise in the sky afterwards to testify He would never destroy the world again.