About Alli Pluim

Its mid-day, little man is asleep and the girls and I have quiet space to finish our read aloud. It’s the amazing true story of Corrie Ten Boom and her faithfulness and perseverance during World War II. She has just lost her sister in Ravensbruck concentration camp after months of being herded around like cattle, and the German’s many attempts at stripping her of her dignity and faith. She wasn’t sure what was coming. There were rumors of all of the women her age being killed the next day. She was sick and heartbroken when she was given freedom papers allowing her to return to her home in Holland.

Sharing this story with my girls made it very real, very raw. The looks of misunderstanding on their faces, the every now and then question, “Is this a true story?” reminded me of the horrors that so many had to live through. Are living through. I had crossed over to become a sympathetic reader, immersed in the reality of this story. [Read more...]

As I sat, the stillness of the house felt like a welcomed stranger. The early morning light had yet to break as I relished some holy moments.

Winter had been long with its white skies and white fields, without the rows of barren trees punctuating black I wasn’t sure where the fields ended and the sky began; the days folding into one another.

Would the sun show its face soon?

I had felt like I was “weathering” this weather pretty well. There were good blocks of time at home to get school done, meet with friends and work on projects that needed attention. I felt like we were going to make it and then the dawn broke that morning to another endless sea of white and all at once I felt a shift inside, as if the hope of spring, the hope of another day was sucked out in an instant and a deep sadness descended, which took root in apathy.

I hadn’t seen it coming. Darkness can do that, hit you all at once and you could have sworn it was just twilight. [Read more...]

Recently we had visitors to the farm. Long time friends we haven’t seen in over a decade. It was an honor for us to host them. For them to make the trek to the farm in a snowstorm, no less, was a gift to us. 

We spent a good amount of time preparing for their arrival. I think there is no way around it when you have little kids that are always underfoot, undoing any tidying and cleaning that may have been done. It can feel like you’re running yourself in circles! 

I planned to have them use our bedroom so it was a great opportunity to clean out the nooks and crannies, which I am sad to say had been neglected for some time. 

It was work. Removing things to be relegated to other parts of the house, bedside tables put in the hallway to empty the room for a deep clean. 

As the girls worked away on their lists and Si slept, I listened to Christmas music and began berating myself for how bad this room had become and how long it was taking me to make it shine. 

It was a systematic effort. The work of emptying in order to begin the task of a deep clean and then slowly and intentionally putting the room back together. 

I began to think, is this what Jesus has done? Is doing? Is He working hard, removing, cleaning, redesigning, and making beautiful a place for us where we will one day spend forever with Him? 

 “Trust in God, and trust also in me. There is more than enough room in my Father’s home. If this were not so, would I have told you I am going to prepare a place for you? When everything is ready, I will come and get you, so that you will always be with me where I am.” 

– John 14: 1-3 (Emphasis mine.)

Life can feel burdened by layers of dust, piles of shame and doubt, chaos in the “closets”. Moments we feel forgotten or lost. 

Is this when it can sometimes feel like He is never coming back? Are there moments when it feels like He has forgotten His promise to come claim His bride? 

Just as it was important for me that our guests be comfortable, surrounded by bits of beauty and cleanliness, how much more important is it to Jesus that we spend eternity together with Him? 

He is preparing a place for us, where we will always be together. It will be beautiful, full of life, and the dust and darkness will have no place there. He doesn’t want us to loose hope in the midst of waiting.

When the burdens of life weigh heavy, and Immanuel— God with us— feels like a truth that is buried beneath the dust and debris, we have the hope of heaven. 

Recently my pastor talked about how it’s important to keep our eyes ultimately on heaven, on our future place with the One who loves us so. Part of stewarding our days and moments like this helps us to remember that this present life isn’t our only reality as believers. The hope we have in our eternal reality, by His grace, invites us to live this one life differently here on earth— knowing this isn’t “it”. 

As we shift and move things around in our homes to make room for the reminders of the manger, isn’t it an act of hope? An act of faith? 

Faith to remember that even in those moments where we can’t see past the dust and piles, God never meant for us to be separated from Him. 

He humbled himself to become flesh, so that through a baby we might find our way through the piles— and ultimately to an eternity with the King of Kings— where the work that He has been doing in our hearts and lives reflects the fullness of His grace and perfection without all of the dust and debris. 

The miracle of the manager reminds us that God is with us here and now but also that our true home awaits us in all of its perfect splendor— more magnificent than even the finest guest room— because after all we won’t be guests, we will stay for eternity!

As Thanksgiving is fast
approaching the lists have no doubt already begun. Grocery lists,
gift giving lists, to-do lists. Whether they are on paper or spinning
madly in our heads, they are beginning to accumulate as these seasons
of celebration are upon us.

I live in Canada where we
celebrate Thanksgiving in October. It always feels a little strange
since I am an American by birth and grew up celebrating American
Thanksgiving.

Over the years, though,
this early intentional moment to pause and give thanks has left more
time to focus my mind and heart towards Advent, the season of
anticipating and remembering Christ’s birth.

It hasn’t always been
so, this intentional focus and planning.

It wasn’t until my kids
began to get a little older that I began as a parent to question and
be challenged about how we celebrate these wonderful seasons of
Thanksgiving and Advent.

Kids have a way of doing
that, challenging what you believe to be true and how that is
intentionally played out in our lives and homes.

This season of celebrating
can be defined by busy, frantic planning. Activities that can leave
us feeling depleted and unsatisfied. Hunting for the perfect gift can
be fun, but exhausting. The expectations of family and friends, who
may want more from us than we can actually give, can leave us
paralyzed with worry.

I have worn heavy
expectations of this season—heaped on by myself. Too many good
things, too many fun things. Too. Many. Things.

The laughter replaced by
the barking, fueled by unmet expectations. They have robbed me, and
those I love, of peace and joy. Squelching the delight of ushering in
a spiritual season that can be so full and rich for our children and
us.

Where is the room for the
wonder? The miracle? Somehow the road to the manger can become
clouded. Is this why God gave the Magi a star? He knew we would need
a bright sign to show us the way.

As moms we have choices.
We may feel like there are times when life becomes its own beast that
we are trying to keep up with and tame, but the reality is we may
have made choices that have led us on a path we may not want to be
running on. The path not led by the star. The joy and purpose of the
season, becoming completely lost in the midst of the must do’s.

One of the joys of being a
mother is that we can establish traditions and activities for our
families to celebrate this time of year well and with intention.

These things are meant to
come out of our own love and relationship with the Savior. Out of the
interests and giftedness that God has built into each of us.

Celebrating and
anticipating baby Jesus will look different in your homes than it
does in mine. That is the beauty of living out of our own unique
relationship with the Lord and the relationships that He has
entrusted to us to steward in our homes.

Over the years, as I have
fumbled my way to celebrating this season with purpose, God has been
so faithful to show up and bring meaning and growth out of our
traditions and acts of worship. It has begun to get easier to plan
ahead and make better choices early that allow us to keep the path to
the manger less clouded.

As you begin to prepare
your families for Thanksgiving and Christmas may we remember how they
go hand in hand. As Ann Voskamp writes, “Thanksgiving always
precedes the miracle.”

As we take time in this
season to offer up our praises of thanksgiving let us anticipate the
gift of celebrating the miracle, Christ Jesus who came to rescue,
restore, and bring hope.

These are the truths he
wants to write on our hearts as we nurture them in our children’s
lives and hearts.

May this season be full of
his presence as you plan with purpose to make room for the miracle.

A Mother’s Advent Prayer

Lord, may we remember that
every good and perfect gift comes from you.

May we remember that all
of our planning will mean nothing if we have not bent low to seek
your wisdom and grace to prepare our hearts for celebrating.

May we remember that more
than anything else you long for relationship with us and with those
around us.

May we be women of wisdom
who seek to glorify you in this often full, precious season.

May we be cultivators of
peace and joy as we remember who and what we are celebrating.

Amen

Alli