Sacred Ground, Sticky Floors

Jami Amerine

Description

"If, like me, you've stepped on a Lego while barefoot, it can be difficult to wrap your mind around the divine qualities of the path beneath your feet." Jami AmerineCome find the miracle in the mayhem.As moms, we know we've messed up in so many ways. Royally. Maybe you think you've failed your children, your spouse, and your God. But did you know that in the midst of your failures and fears, you are still lovedroyally? As a child of noble birth? Do you believe your children are in better hands than your own and that you don't need to hold on so desperately? Jami Amerine, author of Stolen Jesus, delivers a totally relatable account of her hilarious and honest experiences and misadventures in motherhood. She's eager to help you see how to let your Heavenly Father parent you, so you can embrace peace as you parent your children. Come meet with the One whose presence turns sticky floors into sacred ground.

Informations

• Publié par: Harvest House Publishers
• Date de parution: 02 octobre 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780736970624
• Langue: English

Extrait

HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.
Verses marked ESV are from The ESV Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version ), copyright 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Cover by Connie Gabbert Design + Illustration
Cover photos the8monkey / Shutterstock; MMassel / Getty
Published in association with Kirkland Media Management, L.L.C., P.O. Box 1539, Liberty, Texas 77575
Names and details have been changed in some real-life stories to protect the privacy of the individuals involved.
Sacred Ground, Sticky Floors
Copyright 2018 Jami Amerine
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97408
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
ISBN 978-0-7369-7061-7 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-7062-4 (eBook)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Amerine, Jami, author.
Title: Sacred ground, sticky floors / Jami Amerine.
Description: Eugene, Oregon: Harvest House Publishers, [2018] | Includes bibliographical references.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018008241 (print) | LCCN 2018021488 (ebook) | ISBN 9780736970624 (ebook) | ISBN 9780736970617 (pbk.)
Subjects: LCSH: Mothers-Religious life. | Motherhood-Religious aspects-Christianity.
Classification: LCC BV4529.18 (ebook) | LCC BV4529.18 .A44 2018 (print) | DDC 248.8/431-dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018008241
All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other-without the prior written permission of the publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author s and publisher s rights is strictly prohibited.
DEDICATION
To my husband, Justin-I like you.
To my children:
Maggie, for the gift of grace.
John, for making me brave.
Luke, for making me real.
Sophie, for wisdom.
Sam, for expanding my borders.
Charlie, for showing me I can.
Joy-Baby for the joy. Pure joy.
And for every child we welcome,
whether you stay or go,
may you know the truth of Jesus Christ,
that you are of noble birth and
you were loved fearlessly
here on the sacred ground.
CONTENTS
Dedication
Foreword by Katie M. Reid
Introduction: The Spill
Part 1: Relent and Reprieve
1. The Shame Game
2. Not Even Remotely in Control
3. Pretty Pictures
4. Greener Grass
5. Fear Factory
6. I So Proud You Is Smart
7. Grieftastic
8. Once Upon a Time
Part 2: Reward and Receive
9. Night Night
10. Secret Sauce
11. A Shoulder to Blow My Nose On
12. Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda
13. Catch and Release
14. Philosophies, Legalities, and Singing Raccoons
15. Simply Loving Well
16. She Seems Familiar
17. Seeds and Weeds
Epilogue
Afterword by Luke Amerine
More from Jami Amerine
Notes
Acknowledgments
About the Author
About the Publisher
FOREWORD
I was a know-it-all mom until that inaugural night in the hospital with my first child. I would never statements quickly became fallacies as I agreed-from the foggy haze of sleep deprivation-my infant could have formula and a pacifier. Of course, there is nothing wrong with this, but try telling that to an overly ambitious first-time mama. I was shocked when my well-calculated plan was challenged by an eight-pound, three-ounce little darling.
Motherhood continued to unravel my tightly wound self with all its bumps, twists, and surprises. I have five really great kids (a toddler, a kindergartner, two tweens, and a teen), but they are far from angelic and definitely strong-willed (just like their mom). I used to think that if I just tried harder, my kids would act better. But the harder I tried, the more discouraged I felt.
These glorious humans have a mind of their own, which doesn t often line up with my unrealistic, lofty ideals. When I try to parent from a place of perfection, I set us all up for frustration. Yet I don t want to throw in the towel either, because raising these children is a noble calling, and they have amazing things to offer the world. For instance, one of them helped initiate a campaign to fund a well for a needy community overseas. Another child holds doors open for others without prompting. And one son begged me to give his allowance to a homeless man.
It can be tempting to measure our worth by the exemplary behavior of our offspring, or to discount our worth because of their foolish choices. Yet Jami invites us to parent from a different perspective. One that is steeped in hope and not puffed up by accolades or sabotaged by sticky circumstances.
Sacred Ground, Sticky Floors contains a refreshing dose of hilarity mixed with heart-wrenching moments and topped with guiltlifting revelations.
Jami writes from a place of raising man-babies and a runaway bride, parenting a prodigy, fostering littles, and carting around vandals. She has launched some of her kids, wants to drop-kick a couple, and loves them all fiercely. Jami no longer parents from a place of panic.
And we don t have to either. We don t have to wring our hands, think through every worst-case scenario, or hide the fact that our children are far from perfect. Our lack of having it together is cause for Jesus to be enough for us (parents and offspring alike).
Jami wisely offers, Yes, I can comfort and love and nurture. But if I fix everything for everyone, why do they need Jesus? If I m meeting every single tear or whimper with warm chocolate chip cookies and physical and spiritual Band-Aids, when will they fall into the arms of their Jesus?
Do we want the best for our kids? Of course. But we can t force them into pure belief or give them a willing heart to receive His goodness. That s above our pay grade. The best thing we can do is receive the strength and grace of our Heavenly Father and walk out our birthright as His daughters. As our kids watch us do that, I believe they will be forever changed.
Jami gently guides us to the heart of non-frantic parenting. Come on in, pardon the sticky, and discover how to parent from a place of peace.
-Katie M. Reid
author of Made Like Martha
(from a loud room in her home, with children throwing things)
Introduction
THE SPILL
All of us who have had that veil removed can see and reflect the glory of the Lord. And the Lord-who is the Spirit-makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image.
2 CORINTHIANS 3:18
H e arrived by state transport in a worn and tattered car seat. It was the Thursday evening before a long holiday weekend when the 90s silver Toyota Corolla pulled up in front of our Texas home. The evening was still slightly warm, and the sky was exploding with all the colors of the setting sun. On this cul-de-sac, a symphony of tragedy and triumph played out as a battered baby boy arrived safely at his new home.
My family, all seven of us, stood on the front porch and watched as the plump woman from the state tugged at the car seat, with the mystery boy strapped inside, and finally finagled it out of the impossibly tiny back seat. My eldest daughter, Maggie, put both hands over her eyes and, under her breath, gasped, Please be careful.
The state representative, aware of the spectacle in which she was center stage, waved and offered assurances. Got it! Sorry, I m not used to these big car seats! My husband, Justin, walked over to help. She halted him with one hand and said, You can take my briefcase. The boy was still her ward and responsibility. He did not yet belong to our arms, our home, our hearts.
As the woman lugged the precious cargo into the house, my husband followed her. His looks spoke volumes, morphing from expressions of disgust to concern and then on to exasperation. Finally, the woman placed the carrier with the injured baby on the formal dining room table, and we tried to concentrate on the overwhelming process of signing documents and listening to instructions.
Our four older children stood and stared, in both love and heartache, at the small creature peacefully sleeping in the shabby car seat. Sam, our three-year-old, kept pointing at the baby, giggling and saying, Bebe! Bebe! Sam holds da bebe!
After affixing 500 signatures to at least 4,000 documents, we took the state representative on a walk-through of our home. We gave a thorough explanation of the mechanics of our fire extinguisher; provided copies of our evacuation plan in case Russia invaded; showed her where we kept our prescriptions, cleaning products, and unmentionables; and finally waved goodbye.
We were now a family of eight.
Welcome to the Family
Battered. Broken. Bruised. A little cherub with pink cheeks and doe eyes. Although Charlie was barely four months old, a tiny cast enveloped his wee limb. He smelled of an unknown origin and the hospital. He cooed, just a bit, and his voice was notably raspy. (At the time, we believed it was from crying, but we ve since realized it s just part of his unique Charlie charm. ) I had spent the two days prior at the hospital with the boy; I prayed he would remember me and not be afraid or confused. He opened his eyes and smiled at me. For that moment, my heart skipped a beat, and I could barely breathe. We all stood over him. We were speechless.
We had taken the classes. Talked about the possibilities and readily agreed, Sure we can! B