No one ever starts out with a goal to “go small.” No way. It’s a “Go BIG or go home” society we live in, right? More. Bigger. Better. Higher. Longer. Stronger. Those are the words that tend to equally drive and haunt me. You see, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have to stand on my tippy-toes to get a better view. Yes, I am short in stature, but I think it’s more than that. My soul just longs for higher.

Yet, somewhere along the way – in life, in raising kids, in budgeting, in trying and trying again, in hoping, in the not-quite-yet spaces in my life – I confess I just stopped reaching. I stopped standing on my toes. I stopped leaning in to what I knew God could do and found myself just hoping I’d survive the journey. I hate that it’s true, but it is.

Well, it was. I’m thankful that He is leading me to a higher ground, now, but I feel like it is important to share the honesty of that “low ground” with you.

So how do you forget what you are aiming at? In life, in love, in community…

I think we forget because we are tired. I think we have been fighting this war so hard for so long that we are weary of it. You know…the war.

The war to protect our country and the people and freedom we love and believe in.

The war to preserve our marriages through separations, deployments, and the heartaches that often follow our beloved soldiers home.

The war to intercede for our kids’ very lives – for their purity, for their future, and their hope.

The war to believe that there is still good in this world, a good worth fighting for.

The war to hope.

The war to trust.

The war to lean in, instead of away, from all the hard and from one another.

Yes. There are many wars we fight and, if you are like me, you have been fighting them for a long, long time. And there is nowhere else I want to be. But to be brutally honest, I just get tired of fighting.

When I get tired…I get small.

When I get tired…I dream small.

When I get tired…I ask small.

Perhaps that hits a chord with you, too? Truthfully, I wept when God revealed this to me. In His great kindness, He showed me that I was tired because somewhere along the way I started taking inventory of my resources and found them discouragingly small.

When I felt small, I prayed small.

I forget who fights for me…

Jesus, the Alpha and the Omega, Redeemer, Almighty, the One, the First and the Last!

I forget what His Name is…

Mighty, Healer, Strong, Provider, Restorer, Hope, Truth, Love, Strength, Faithfulness, and Everlasting Joy!

I forget that He parts seas, moves mountains, feeds the hungry, sees the needy, rescues the abandoned, sings over His beloved, covers us with His wings.

He is intimate. He is completely accessible, wholly committed, unwavering in His intercession. He fights for me and He fights for you. He fights on our behalf, for our good, for our hope, for our future, for our children and for the generations beyond.

He didn’t change…I just forgot.

Remembering who He is changes how I engage the battle.

Remembering who He is empowers me to never give up.

Remembering who He is engages my prayers to GO BIG or GO HOME!

For when we are anchored in who He is, we can’t help but lean in to bigger dreams, too. He is extravagant in everything He does. He loves bigger than we can imagine.

He loves to astound.

He loves to show up and move on our behalf.

He loves to fight for us.

Let’s not forget to ask Him to. Let’s not forget who we are and whose we are and who we serve!


Todays post, like many, was largely inspired by the song that accompanies it. This song, “Cover the Earth,” a new release from Kari Jobe and her husband, Cody Carnes, just stopped me in my tracks. The chorus lyrics, when I first heard them, were almost brash to my ears. I thought, “Whoa…that’s intense.” And then I felt His Spirit ask me how long it had been since I prayed big and asked Him to “crash through the windows.” Wow. It was a good wake up call. No, friends, I don’t want pray small. Let’s endeavor to pray big, for the battles we fight are often big, but God is always bigger still!


With joy for the journey,