A Haines Home Companion: Jars of Clay


This may be one of the best weeks of my life. I keep having new beginnings. That how it is with Jesus. New every day. It sounds cliche until it’s not.

Yesterday I texted my dear friend/therapist and called for a session STAT. I seriously didn’t feel like I could wait another minute to get rid of my junk. I needed her to help me process through the layers of this idolatry to acceptance, through all the fear of rejection. I released expectations I’ve had toward others, my family and friends. I released my expectations and fear and how I have desperately longed to find my fit with others.

Continuing to work throughout the day to forgive and understand where I’ve really been accepted, I let go and sent away so much of what has hindered me, and in the place of those void things, I received something beautiful.


I received a love I haven’t felt in a long time, not just from the Father toward me, but also from the Father toward the world. My boys. You. I fell in love again, yesterday.

Suddenly I remember the point of this whole thing – not in the way that gives a clean answer, but rather in the way that is overwhelmed, broken even.


Suddenly I knew that all the times someone had encouraged me or claimed me or shown me approval, all those times it was God Who Moves Through with His love for me. Suddenly we were all vessels again. I filled up and started running over. This is freedom.


When I picked the boys up from school, I grabbed a book and commissioned the boys to keep the baby from falling in the fish pond. We let the sun touch our skin. We felt rocks and tree bark. We counted the wild violet blooms. This week, I have set aside all the wrong ways I’ve carried burdens, and I have taken deep breaths, asking God for more and more of Him. I’m making room. I’m taking “jars of clay” back from the band. I’m taking it and knowing my heart.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Cor. 4:7).

I am not the magic. A certain friend or group of women, they are not the magic. Neither marriage nor church are the power. But every smack one of us can be full of it. The power that surpasses time, space, and all these flammable things, it is in God alone. The Love is from God. The Love is God. By Him, For Him, and through Him.


When some of you wrote me messages on Facebook the other day, that changed my heart, too. I see you as sheep with me. I see you as one pouring out. I see you as a minister of the gospel. I do – whether you know that about yourself or not.

My Ian, too, is a minister. He asked me to put my work down. He said, “Mama, I think it’s time to make cookies.” So we did. When I set the timer, he said, “I know what we can do while we wait. We can dance.” And so we did.

For God so loved the world that this is what He gave …

His son, His glory, all, and it doesn’t stop with me or you or with future generations. He gives, and then we give back to Him. All Glory. All Power. Kingdom Come.

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About me


Soul Practices, Part 1: An Introduction
January 17, 2017
When There’s a Lion in Your Yard
November 18, 2016
What do you taste?
November 08, 2016
Stay in It: The Un-Ministry of Love in the Time of Locker Room Talk
October 11, 2016
Findings: the Parent Circle, the gifts, and the simpler thing
March 13, 2015
Women Set Apart
February 23, 2015
Dog Days
August 26, 2014
Be the child, then revolution.
June 02, 2014
You Inherit Me
May 21, 2014