Seeking Him

These Boots are Made for Walking...

I have been leading bible study at a day shelter for poor and homeless individuals on Tuesday afternoons since the summer of 2008.  When I first started leading bible study at the Lamb Center, I would prepare my lessons with great attention and careful detail.  I would arrive with an outline of pertinent scriptures to explore and a list of corresponding questions for each scripture.  As I began to have a deeper understanding and love for the community in which I was serving, it became more and more clear that my illusion of control was just that…an illusion.  While I still spend time in preparation, I have come to understand that in many ways, I am just a passenger along for the ride.  And often, it is a very exciting ride!  I am definitely NOT the one in charge. 

This morning, I was reminded of the many places in scripture that it talks about various characters who “walked with God.”.  I particularly connected with one of the author’s descriptions of what it means to walk with God.   She said to walk with God is to “live continually God-aware.”  As I meditated on that concept, I thought about the places and spaces in my life where I already “live continually God-aware” and those places where I might benefit from a greater adherence to that practice.  On Tuesday afternoons at the Lamb Center, I have learned to “live continually God-aware.”  The staff there live that way every day and they are wonderful teachers.

When I began serving at the Lamb Center, I was quickly faced with the awareness….perhaps a better word would be certainty….that I could not do this thing using only my feeble bag of tricks.  My collective wisdom, training, experience and gifts were woefully insufficient.  What wisdom or solace could a middle aged mom with plenty of money in the bank have to offer to someone who was living in the woods and was overwhelmed by despair?  In all honesty, how dare I presume that my words would mean anything in that context?  Yet, because of a series of circumstances, I knew I was supposed to be there and so I went.  At first, I went with a flurry of preparation and planning.  Eventually, I went with a handful of scripture and eyes wide open to see what God was going to do with it.  Like the young boy who offered up his meager lunch of a loaf of bread and a couple of fish, sometimes I feel like more of an observer to the miracles than a participant.

Sometimes during bible study, things seem to be careening out of control.  Perhaps we have more than the usual number of guests who are struggling with mental health issues or are experiencing overwhelming fear or anger.  During those times, I I have learned to get very quiet and listen very carefully; as if my guide on the path has held up His hand as an indication that I should pause.   Sometimes, in that moment, one of the quieter guests will chime in with words of such wisdom and clarity and kindness that I offer a prayer of thanksgiving to God that He put a hand over my mouth at that moment.  Sometimes, I feel a gentle tug on my heart to ask a different question that might lead us down an alternative path- a question that I hadn’t thought of before that moment.  One day, when I saw us heading down a path that I was certain led directly off a cliff, one of our precious guests was reminded of a song and so I asked her to teach it to us and we sang it together.  Because I am no longer attached to my agenda or under the delusion that I am in control, I have been able to witness and experience God work miracles.  But I MUST listen and be willing to be flexible.  And I am personally blessed and changed every week by my fellow sojourners and the ways that God uses them to teach me.

Here’s the thing:  I KNOW I can’t fix anybody at the Lamb Center, so I don’t even try.  I can’t orchestrate their healing or get them housing or keep them sober or undo the pain they have suffered in their life.  So I lean in and follow the one who CAN do those things.  His timing is often not what I would choose and the path He takes often looks like the long way around.  But after 6 years of traveling this road, I am convinced He knows what He is doing and so I spend my days there “living continually God-aware” expecting to see miracles, in spite of myself.

When I walk through the doors of the Lamb Center now, I am blindingly aware of God at work.  With this awareness of God’s presence and provision, I often stumble upon unexpected treasures and wind up following paths I hadn’t planned.  “Living continually God-aware” in this context means seeing the people and situations I encounter as sacred and knowing that God is present in the midst of them.  Each conversation is holy, each person (including me) a sacred work in progress.  Even the ugly and difficult, when seen through God eyes, is somehow a reminder to breath deep and lean into my much stronger and wiser walking Companion like a sturdy walking stick.  Because the situations there are often difficult and the resources are limited, we have no choice but to trust that our Guide is capable and knows the way.    

But here is my point: (FINALLY, you say!)  I don’t want to only walk with God on Tuesday afternoons.  If I am honest, much of my life is out of my direct control, isn’t it?  While I can control my attitude and how I spend my time, I cannot control the people, places or things around me.  I have no idea what the future holds, so wouldn't it be to my benefit to walk with God all week long?  To live every day "continutally God-aware?"  What lessons learned on Tuesday afternoons might I take into the rest of the week?

Perhaps these are a few of the things I am learning:

• Acknowledge that someone else knows the path better than I do.
• Prepare for the journey, but remember someone else is in charge.
• Follow the Guide and listen for directions.
• Pause along the way and notice the beauty of the walk. 
• Be aware of and grateful for the sacred and holy that cross my path, seeing that potential for sacredness and holiness in everything and everyone.
• Be willing to take detours and even to follow the “road less traveled.” 

Proverbs 3:5-6 (ESV)

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.

 

 

What Do You DO?

I am a chronic, mostly unapologetic over-explainer.

I tend to go into slightly more detail than technically necessary when purchasing an item at a store, ordering my food at a restaurant, paying for my groceries, talking to the doctor or pretty much any interaction with other human beings.  I make a lot of new friends this way, but I also frequently embarrass my husband and children.  In an attempt not to over explain this, here are just a very few examples:

If you receive a gift from me, you are also likely to get a potentially long winded explanation of why I chose that particular gift, what I considered as an alternative, where I sought to purchase said gift, where I eventually found the gift and even, possibly, instructions on how to correctly use your gift.

My daughter and I visited Ann Taylor Loft one day searching for a pair of business-like dress pants for her to wear as a character in a play.  In our quest to find just the right pair of black pants for her character, I felt it might be helpful if I told the poor unsuspecting sales lady the entire plot of the play.  Thankfully, it was just a one act!

And perhaps my family’s favorite, I once told a waitress that my husband was having a colonoscopy in a couple days by way of explaining why we were ordering a particular modification to our flatbread.  Bless. Her. Heart.  I wish I had a picture of her face....or my husband's....or my daughter and her boyfriend's....

ANYWAY, why this confession?  Because knowing this little tidbit about my character, you will see the conundrum when someone asks me the question, “What do you do?”

I remember when I decided to retire from paid employment right before my youngest daughter was born.  One of the things with which I initially struggled was how to answer the question “What do you do?”  I often went into an unasked for recitation of my resume; the degrees and certifications I had earned, the kind of work I had done in the past, my last position as a clinical social worker in private practice, before finally saying that I was now home with my kids doing the mommy thing. 

Truly, I was not embarrassed or conflicted or even ambivalent (ok, maybe a little ambivalent) about our choice for me to stay home with our kids.  I have never once regretted the decision.  However, at least at the beginning, I had a hard time with the idea of that being my entire identity.  I had worked hard to build my career and I had achieved some success.  I loved my work and I took pride in what I did.  Truth be told, at that point, I was still feeling somewhat over my head and out of my element as a parent.  If I had been a little bolder at the stage of the journey, I would have answered that question by simply saying “trying to keep these two kids alive without them having too much material to talk about in therapy once they are adults..”  We were totally making it up as we went along and I wasn't sure I was going to be very good at it.

Fast forward 18 or so years and here I am again in transition. We did it!  Through the grace of God, a lot of prayer, and a slightly twisted sense of humor, we have managed to raise these two amazing individuals to adulthood.  Too soon to say how much fodder they have for the therapist couch, but they are wonderful human beings and I am proud of whatever contributions I might have made in the process.  They are, in some ways, my finest work to date.  Now they are both off on their amazing adventures, making their own decisions, and equipping themselves for what I’m sure will be lives of meaning and purpose.  I adore them and I have treasured my front row seat in their journey thus far.But that question.  Once again, I find myself often faced with that question.  “What do you do?”

Well, kind sir or madam, I’m not too sure yet.  May I give you a list of my training, job experience, volunteer work, personality traits, the causes I support, my hobbies, my passions, my talents, my loves?  I know I SAID in my previous post that I was giving myself time and permission to BE STILL, but it has already been like 3 whole weeks of this empty nest thing.  Now what am I going to DO?

But here is some really good news that I’ve learned since I was first struggling with this question 18 years ago: I know that as a follower of Jesus, that it is not what I DO that gives me my value, my worth, my identity, my purpose.  I am so much more than what I DO.  If I taught them nothing else, I hope I taught my girls that our value and the value of everyone around us is in our identity as children of God.  I don’t need to DO anything except say YES to be the recipient of that incredible, healing, fulfilling, extravagant Love.  In Him, I am complete, I am enough, I am loved.  I truly believe this to be Truth with a capital T and that knowledge does help me as I wrestle with these questions once again.  However, I also believe that my identity as a child of God is both a blessing and a responsibility.  In gratitude for the grace I have received, I am compelled to DO something with my life, to fulfill my calling, to be a blessing to someone else and to use my gifts and talents for the Kingdom.  The question now is what that might look like in this next season of my life.

But do you think that maybe the two paragraphs above are a bit too much explaining if someone asks me “What do you do?”  :-)

Remix: More Thoughts from An Empty Nest

Yesterday morning, while watching a video with a large group of women, I was surprised to find that I had tears running down my face.  Luckily, one of my dear ones sitting behind me noticed my tears and kindly and quietly handed me a tissue.   Have you ever had the experience when you hear something that resonates with you so deeply…that feels so TRUE…that it literally takes your breath away for a moment?

This isn’t the first time I’ve had that experience while listening to Beth Moore teach on a video screen.  I started her newest study yesterday and, as always, felt like I was reconnecting with a well-loved old friend.   Beth inspires me with her joy in the Lord and her passion for His Word and I am grateful for her impact in my life. 

To make a long story shorter (I seldom say anything “short,”) Beth was talking about loss yesterday.  She was talking about seasons of life where we get comfortable; we like our activities, our group of closest confidantes, our daily routine.  We know who we are and what to do.   And then something happens that blows it up and leaves a gaping hole.  The Greek word was paroxusmos.  And blowing stuff up or being near an explosion can hurt like hell.

For the past 2 decades, my life has largely been characterized by being Alex and Brooke’s mom and by serving in ministry and leadership at our church.  This is what I did every day, but it was also who I was to a large degree.    Thankfully, God pushed me out of my comfort zone once before several years ago, and my ministry at the Lamb Center became the third leg of that tripod.   Through a series of circumstances, both wonderful and difficult, 2 of those 3 came to an abrupt end this summer.   And I’m finding myself feeling a little wobbly as a result.

Don’t get me wrong, I KNOW full well that I am still Alex and Brooke’s mom and I always will be.  I talk (ok, text) with them both frequently and I look forward to them coming home for Christmas and summer breaks.  But honestly, it is just different, isn’t it?

See if this makes sense: the relationship I have with them as individuals continues and hopefully deepens and grows, but the sense of this being “what I do” is irrevocably altered.   For years, being their mom and all that entailed was my purpose, my job, and my focus.  It was how I ordered my days and chose my activities.  I went on mission trips with the student ministry to serve with my girls and to teach them that they are blessed to bless others.  Because of their passion for theater, I was the head Drama Mama and threw myself wholeheartedly into the work of the drama department.  I scheduled my days to be there when they got home to hear all about their day at school or their rehearsal.  I bought food for their friends and invested in their lives too, so that our house often became the destination gathering place.   I loved “my job.”

I’m rambling a bit today, but let me stop for a moment and say that I’m not entirely sure that this singular focus is always completely healthy (fodder for another post perhaps,) but I know it is not unique to me.  While I tried to balance my focus by serving in various aspects of ministry, being mom was still my primary calling.  The online parent groups in which I participate are talking about this, in addition to my group of women friends.  People are hurting.  The overwhelming response I got from my last post on the empty nest was testament to the fact that people are not quite sure how to deal with this transition and others like it.  So I keep writing about it, in hopes that my out-loud processing will bless someone else and keep the conversation going.  My therapy, if you will...

So, back to the moment of connection that I experienced in yesterday’s video.  Beth gave me some new language yesterday that I have been thinking about ever since.   She suggested that God will help us fill the holes left behind in seasons of loss and change by doing a “Remix.”  I looked up the word Remix online and a couple of the definitions really struck a chord with me (excuse the pun:)

• to use some of the same materials, allowing the song to reach a different audience
• to alter a song for artistic purposes
• to provide additional versions of a song for use as bonus tracks

 Don’t you love that picture, hurting empty nest mamas?  Our lives are being remixed because God has a new audience in mind for us.  I suggested the metaphor of the empty canvas the other day and I love that this idea of a Remix takes that a little deeper.  God is working on a new masterpiece and we have the privilege of being co-creators. We are not done yet!  Those same notes God used to help us guide our children into adulthood will now be used to sing a slightly different song for a new audience.  Carefully crafted notes of unconditional love, encouragement, compassion, patience, humor, organization, multi-tasking, and creativity are never wasted.  Those were hard earned skills learned in the trenches of parenting and now we have the opportunity to use them in a new and different way; new jobs, new volunteer opportunities, and perhaps most importantly, new relationships.  I’m not completely clear just how that will look, but I’m getting more and more excited by the prospects.  I am starting to look forward to the Bonus Tracks, how about you?

“Sing to Him a new song.  Play well with loud sounds of joy.”  Psalm 33:3

 

 

 

Thoughts from the Empty Nest

It appears that I have survived week one of my empty nest relatively unscathed.

A few weeks ago, I found myself with tears in my eyes at the grocery store because the milk I was placing in my cart had an expiration date of September 5^th.  "They will both be gone on September 5^th," I thought to myself sorrowfully.  The milk’s expiration seemed to eerily coincide with the dissolution of my family…foolish, of course, but that’s how it felt in those last emotional weeks.

The last few weeks of preparation for my youngest daughter Brooke’s move to Boston and big sister Alex’s move to London were bittersweet.  Lots of quality time together shopping, planning and packing.  Even an impromptu trip to Cape Cod with Alex on our way home from dropping Brooke off in Boston.  The anticipation of saying goodbye was in many ways worse than the actual goodbye when it finally arrived.  At some level, it was really a relief when we were all settled in our new or much quieter homes.

So here I am.  After 20 years of hands on parenting, my babies have flown the nest and are off having wonderful adventures in far off places.  I am pleased to say that they are both doing well.  In spite of an occasional pang of homesickness, they love their new homes away from home and I love to hear about them making friends, enjoying classes and exploring their new cities.  That knowledge gives me an enormous amount of peace.   So now that I helped them get settled, what’s next for me?  Because of the financial security that my husband's job provides, I am blessed to not have to go out immediately and earn an income, so what will I do instead with this space left behind?

I remember the year that both girls were finally in school full time.  After 7 years in the trenches of babies/toddlers/ preschoolers, what would I ever do with all this free time?  What I did was run out and sign up for WAY too many things.  Room mom for both girls classes, new stuff at church, etc….but I had so much free time, right?  It quickly became apparent that I had over booked and over committed and over reached my personal capacity for juggling.  Trust me, I am NOT a very good juggler.  That was the year I learned to say no.  Looking back on that time, I think there were lessons learned then that might just be applicable for me now:

• Take time to pause and breathe.  After my experience, I have often counseled moms coming behind me to not to commit to anything new that first fall.  Making it through to that stage of parenting is a big accomplishment.  Job well done, mama!  It’s ok to take a moment to reflect, to regroup, to refresh and to renew.  I jumped so quickly into being elementary school mama that I didn’t take time to enjoy the quiet in my house.  It is ok to enjoy the quiet.  And it is ok to do some things for yourself before you immediately jump into the next thing.  In this new season, I am remembering that lesson, with reminders from my husband.  It is ok for me to take a moment now to reflect on the journey to this point and take a deep breath and just be still for a bit.  Since my self-esteem has often been directly tied to what I am accomplishing, sitting still can be difficult.  I am giving myself some time to be still and catch my breath.  Praying is the only way I can do that well. 
• Take time to grieve.  For some moms, it might also be important to take time to grieve.  Frankly, I didn’t miss having babies and toddlers.  I liked it when my kids got big enough to have a conversation with them.  But I am grieving this time.  I miss them terribly and I miss being the mom of high schoolers.  I liked their friends hanging around,  I liked the activities with which I was involved at the high school.  I liked hearing what was happening with all their friends and hearing about their day and bearing daily witness to them growing, evolving, changing and becoming.  I miss knowing them every day.  And so I have given myself permission to be sad for a little while and to cry sometimes.  As a person who is more likely to cry at a Hallmark commercial than about my own life, my tears annoy me a little and they kind of freak out my husband who keeps looking at me like I might break or spontaneously combust.  But luckily we have a sense of humor about this transition and I am learning to be gentle with myself in the process.  Being happy for them and being sad that they don’t live with me anymore are not mutually exclusive.  I hear so many parents say “it would be selfish of me to be sad when I am so happy for them and proud of what they have accomplished.”  As human beings we can have more than one feeling at a time, even feelings that seem contradictory.  Yes, it helps that they are happy where they are, but I still miss them and that’s ok.  Trust me, I have all sorts of degrees in this stuff. :-)  I also have to remember that every person experiences these transitions differently and there is no “right” way to feel, so it does me no good to compare my journey to someone else in a way that makes mine better or worse. 
• Take time to reconnect.  The space, time and energy that once was occupied by that child can now be diverted elsewhere.  Last time, I diverted that time and energy into more activities.  This time, I want to choose connection.  My husband is both excited and terrified by the prospect of my attention being focused on him now.  If you have seen the Lord of the Rings movies, we liken my focus to the eye of Sauron…..mesmerizing and terrifying when it locks on to you.  Brooke experienced it when Alex left for college, now it is Steve’s turn.  I am being playful, but I am excited about the opportunity to reconnect with my husband who often felt like he was low man on the totem pole of my affections during certain phases of our childrearing years.  I am also looking forward to spending more time with other loved ones: more evenings and weekends with couples we enjoy, more dinners with girlfriends, more trips to visit far away family.  I remember the joy of meeting a friend for lunch when my girls were first in school all day.  Now that time has expanded exponentially.  Time with loved ones feeds my spirit like nothing else and I feel blessed to have this time to reconnect.  One of the most healing things I have done in this process was to spend time with other mamas going through these transitions.  Other mamas just get it.
• Take time to dream new dreams.  This is the exciting part and maybe the scary part too.  I am starting to think about this new phase differently, more of an empty canvas, rather than an empty nest.  I am enjoying sleeping a little later.  I am enjoying running the dishwasher once or twice a week instead of daily.  I am laughing at the lack of laundry and mess and noise (and will celebrate and cherish it when it returns in December and again in May.)  I am cleaning out cabinets and throwing away clutter.  I am reading books I have been meaning to read.  I might learn to play the piano or take voice lessons again.  I signed up for the Storyline Conference in late October, including a full day Writers Workshop…a decision which I find both exhilarating and terrifying.  I am tagging along on trips with my husband, just because I can. I am exploring a new church and the potential there for new places to serve and grow and connect.  I am writing again.  I am digging deeper into the activities which I am carrying over from my pre-empty nest life and deciding where my gifts, talents and passions might be leading me to serve going forward.  I am listening patiently to God for His direction, guidance and permission.  I am deciding what I want to be when I grow up this time.

So friends in transition, how are you “taking time” in this next phase of life?  How are you embracing the change you find yourself in?  I would love to hear your ideas!

 

 

Mutiny Against Excess- Week 1

We are rich.  There really is no way around it.  By every definition of the word, we are rich.  We own two houses and 4 cars.  We go on nice vacations, eat out often and buy anything we want at the grocery store.  We give to a number of organizations, including our church, and have been able to save for college and retirement.  We live in a safe community with wonderful schools.  Our kids have had every advantage that money can buy.  I am grateful for the Lord's provision and my husband's hard work.

Last month, I read a book called 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker.  As I told my friends on Facebook, it rocked my world.  You should read the book to really understand, but essentially Jen and to some degree her family looked at their life of relative wealth and decided to dig a little deeper.  To do that, she looked at some of the excess in her life of affluence and decided to do an intentional "fast" in 7 different areas: food, clothing, possessions, media, waste, spending, and stress.  She fasted for a month in each area and wrote about her experience and what God taught her in the process.  In the study guide that she published later, she suggests a week long "fast" in each area for those who were intrigued enough by her experience to go deeper themselves.  That is what my friends and I are going to do for Lent.  

FYI, my family thinks I'm crazy.  

Let's take a detour for a minute and talk about what a fast is.  One definition I read was "fasting is an intentional reduction, a deliberate abstinence to summon God's movement in our lives.  A fast creates margin for God to move."  Another definition said "it is exchanging the needs of the physical body for those of the spiritual."  God talks about His ideas of fasting in Isaiah 58.  When Jesus brings it up, He says "when you fast," making the assumption that we will be doing so.  

SO, we begin this week, as Lent officially begins on Wednesday.  This week, we examine our relationship with food.  In the book, Jen picked 7 foods that she would eat exclusively for one month.  Our group decided that each of us would decide for ourselves what our "fast" would look like this week. 

Back to my wealthy lifestyle.  We have loads of food in our house.  Pantry is full.  2 freezers are full.  One refrigerator full, the other partly full.  We buy food that we end up throwing away because it goes bad.  I have thrown out things in my pantry that were 2 years past the expiration date.  Some evenings, I look in the refrigerator, don't feel like thinking/cooking and go out for fast food instead.  I don't actually know what a gallon of milk costs anymore because I know I can afford it.  We are privileged that we have never for one day known what it feels like to go hungry

But the abundance, and the opportunity for excess, is internal as well as external.  Like most of us, I often eat when I'm not hungry.  I indulge a passing craving, the bag of chips catches my eye, Steve leaves a bag of candy on the counter (clearly, that one is his fault.)  A handful of this, a spoonful of that...many times eating that has little to do with the real purpose of food which includes, in my opinion, nourishing our body and living and celebrating in community.  My relationship with food may be symptomatic of a deeper condition that plagues our culture: I want, what I want, when I want it.

I read this scripture this morning from 1 Peter 4: 2 (The Message:)

Think of your sufferings as a weaning from the old sinful habit of always expecting to get your own way.  Then you'll be able to live out your days free to pursue what God wants instead of being tyrannized by what you want.

For me, much of the excess in my life, in all the areas mentioned, is based in that "old sinful habit" of expecting to get my own way.  I want what I want now- so I buy, eat, listen to, watch, sign up for, do- what I want now.  

Don't get me wrong.  The food or other stuff we buy or do is not in and of itself the problem. The problem lies in the priority, power and purpose it has in my life.  I am often overwhelmed by the clutter...of things, choices, possessions, information overload...with which I am inundated every day.  

How can I hear God's voice amidst the noise?

I've thought about this food fast all weekend while I was in New York with a group of kids eating out every meal.  With two daughters watching, I have been very careful about never getting legalistic about food.  Food is one of life's great pleasures and I believe God meant for us to enjoy it....every holy day He established included feasts after all!  Food is for nourishment certainly, but sharing meals is often the setting where we celebrate our time with the ones we love most.  On our trip this weekend, it was during the meals that I got to really get to know the people with whom I was traveling.  Food is a blessing and I want my fast to reflect that.  For that reason, my fast this week will be about trying to put food back into its proper place.  For this week, I will only eat nourishing foods, no snacking, no grazing.  I will eat slowly, in a chair, only at meal time, and when possible, with other people.  No sugar, no junk food, no fast food.  In addition, I will clean out the pantry and the freezers with all the excess stuff and either cook it or take it to the food pantry.  

I'll let you know at the end of the week how it goes!

The Race Set Before Us

For years, I envied people who called themselves runners.  I liked the idea of being a runner, but "knew" that would never be me.  I was not a runner.  

But then, back in 2010, I decided to try again.  In a different way than I had tried before.  I even blogged about my journey as a runner back then.  And I became a runner.

Right now, it is a balmy 16 degrees out...up from the 4 degree reading on the thermometer when we woke up...and today, I am only running on the eliptical in my basement.  However, I read a scripture  today that reminded me once again how much I have learned about life from running.

Hebrews 12:1-2

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.

As I read these familiar words, I was reminded of several truths that encouraged me.

• Running is hard.  Living as a follower of Jesus is hard too.  Some days, in both cases, it is hard to get started.  Some days, it is hard to remember why I am doing this.  Some days, it feels like I am wasting my time.  I get frustrated and weary and tired of it being hard because I like easy stuff better.  Hard is...well, HARD and I don't particularly like hard.  
• BUT, I can do hard things.  I've done hard things before.  I will do hard things again.  I can do hard things with my body because God created a miraculous organism in me that thrives on good food, the right amount of rest and vigourous exercise.  My body is a miracle.  And I can do hard things in my walk with the Lord because I have the mind of Christ, the power of the Holy Spirit, the living Word and the community of believers to cheer me on.  In Him, I am a new creation and a living, breathing miracle- body, mind and spirit.
• Running is a process.  And running "the race set before us" is a process as well.  It takes consistency, training, practice, and perseverance.  It doesn't happen overnight and sometimes, I  have to start over and begin again.  In fact, when it warms up, I will have to start the running process over again.  The definition of perseverance is "steadfastness in doing something despite difficulty and delay in achieving success."  We persevere....we keep trying...even when we don't see results because we trust that this process is valuable.
• The process is valuable and our hard work is worth it!  As I mentioned in my previous blog post about running, it took me a LONG time to get to the point where I actually enjoyed running....a little.  But now I know that the process- the training, the consistency, the sticking with it- all pays off.  I feel better and stronger when I take the time to care for my body in this way.  The time I invest in the process yields results every single time.  It is just the way it works, as a runner and as a follower of Jesus.  We are in charge of participating in the process, God is in charge of the results.  We show up and do the work and leave the rest to Him.

I did finally run a 5K race a couple of years after I started running.  I didn't break any records, but I finished in a respectable amount of time and I loved the process of participating side by side with the other runners and being encouraged across the finish line by the cheering spectators.  It is that scene that I picture when I read the verse above.  The accomplishment that morning may have seemed like it happened in a little over 30 minutes.  In reality, it took much, much longer.  It involved me getting over the idea that I would never be a runner.  It required me listening to people who knew more about learning to run than I did and following their advice.  It required me spending many months alternating between walking and running, before I could finally run the whole way.  It took me putting on my very supportive sports bra and good running shoes every Monday, Wednesday and Friday whether I felt like it or not.  But ultimately, the process and perseverance paid off.

I know the same things to be true in my walk with the Lord.  While He works the miracles of transformation in my life, I have to show up and do my part.  I have to spend time in His word and I have to spend time on my knees (metaphorically speaking....my dog freaks out and bothers me when I actually get on my knees, so I mostly pray sitting in a chair.)  I have to be vulnerable and share my journey with other believers and hear God's voice through theirs.  I have to practice gratitude purposefully and intentionally every day.  This is the process that God uses to bring results.  And He has set this race before me....He alone knows the course...so I have to show up every day to find out where we are going. 

Today, I am grateful for this race set before me and for my "running" buddies with whom I am running this race.  Love you, ladies!

 

Peanut Butter, Powdered Sugar and the Illusion of Control

In preparation for a house full of company next week, and because we could barely open the door, I cleaned out the pantry yesterday.  If the level of organization in my pantry "pre-clean out" is a representation of the state of my mind, I should probably not be allowed to operate heavy machinery.

Along with one thing that had expired in 2006 (a box of oats, I think,) we had 11 jars of peanut butter in our pantry.  ELEVEN!  If you count the separate containers in these packs of Jif To Go, the total

number of peanute butter receptacles in my pantry would be 19.  But I'm not counting them and I will stick with 11.  

In my defense, my other peanut butter eater has recently moved out of my house.  

We also have enough tea bags in our pantry to serve tea to everyone in our neighborhood.  Oooh, a party idea!  With our tea, we will need to make some kind of food that involves powdered sugar....we have LOTS of powdered sugar.  But I digress...

As I reorganized and threw out and consolidated, I laughed at some of the things I found and was truthfully a little sickened at the excess.  We have so much more than we need and yet, I keep buying more stuff and stuffing it in on top of the other stuff.  I mean, don't we always need more peanut butter and powdered sugar?

It also reminded me of a post that I wrote years ago, when I first started blogging and the follow up post that I wrote a few days later.  I wrote that post about clutter in 2005 and here I am in 2012 still fighting my piles.  I had really expected to have things a little more under control by now.  :-)

Really, let's be honest, I am not ever going to have it all together.  Not even a little.  Right when I get one area of my life somewhat under control, something else pops loose.  What's that game...Whack a Mole?  

I may be more consistent about exercising these days, but I still need to get the old videos organized and converted to DVD.  I cleaned out the pantry, but my purse is a disaster.  I did a good job of nurturing my relationship with my teenager this week, but I haven't called my mother in weeks....and what about my best friend from high school who is going through a tough time....I should REALLY make time to call her.  What kind of friend am I?  The Thanksgiving basket is ready for delivery, but I'm not sure all the gifts are purchased to celebrate Christmas with my family next week.  Oh, I probably need to run by Target...I always need to run by Target.

Whack, Whack, Whack....those damn moles are EVERYWHERE!

Let me talk to my girlfriends for a moment.  Are we ever enough, ladies?  At the end of the day, do we ever allow ourselves the freedom to say "job well done...maybe not perfect, but good enough."  There will always be more work to do, there will always be an area of our life that could use our attention.  I know so many women who struggle with the perception that everyone else seems to have it "all together" in a way that they don't.  And so they always feel less than...not quite ok.

That, in my opinion, is a lie straight from the Evil One.  God's Word is very clear that our worth, our value, is in our identity as His precious children.  In Christ, we are His and He loves us because we belong to Him.  He loves us because He created us to love us and loving us makes His joy complete. Strengthened by that love and in gratitude for His grace, we are set free to choose obedience to Him as the better way.  We are blessed to be a blessing and have the privilege of participating in the restoration of His Kingdom.  In Him, we are enough.

Even when we don't remotely have it all together or under control.  Whatever that means.

Life is messy and beautiful.  As my my favorite blogger, Glennon says, much of this life is "brutifal."     On this adventure, I am finding that most people are doing the best they can, including me.  The state of my heart is much more important than the cleanliness of my pantry or the relative length of my To Do list.   Today, that is enough.

Still, I REALLY need to tackle that mismatched sock basket!  

 

 

Pet Squirrels and Storytellers

I have a five year old friend who started Kindergarten last week.  As part of the "getting to know you" activities, she shared with her new class that she had a pet squirrel at home.  She described the squirrel with such enthusiasm and in such detail that her teacher decided to check with mom to see if perhaps they had indeed tamed a squirrel!   Mom responded that it would be in the teacher's best interests to confirm the veracity of any "larger than life" stories she might hear this year with her; my five year old friend has what some might call a "vivid imagination."  As the youngest of 5, that imagination and creativity has been nurtured and encouraged, as well it should.  The story made me smile and it brought back wonderful memories of my own little storyteller.

When my friend shared the tale of the pet squirrel with me, I recalled that I had had the exact same conversation with my youngest child's Kindergarten teacher.  In fact, I am pretty sure I had it with most of her early elementary school teachers, although these flights of imagination began long before she started elementary school.  When she was 2, she would begin her tales with "Once upon at time, there were two wittle dirls..."  For those who don't speak toddler, that would be "little girls' because the adventures always starred two little girls suprisingly similar to the two that lived in our house.   When she was a little older, her stories often included her alter ego "Fireball" who was a boy and something of a super hero.  Fireball had many adventures and always conquered the bad guys in the end.  Sometimes, when she arrived downstairs in a certain outfit, we knew that my daughter had temporarily left the building and Fireball had taken her place. Eventually, Fireball outgrew his special super hero clothes and we had to rely on our imagination to conjur his presence.  

Fast forward 10 or 12 years and "Fireball" has become a lovely young woman who is still a gifted teller of stories.  Whether on a stage or on the page, her creativity and imagination continues to delight her unabashedly biased mother.  She paints pictures with words and makes me laugh with her zany way of looking at the world.  I have no idea what God's plans are for her in terms of a vocation, but I have no doubt that it will somehow have something to do with telling good stories and I feel quite certain that she will be successful.  The world needs more good storytellers.

We love stories.  Books, movies, plays...even the commercials to which we only give cursory attention...people universally love to hear a good story.  Stories engage us at our most creative and imaginative level.  We picture ourselves in the role of the hero and we conquer our greatest fears and insecurities as we lose ourselves in the struggle to defeat the forces of evil.   The power of a good story is the power to influence and change minds and hearts.  It is why I love books and it is why I love theatre.

I am reading a book right now called "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years" by Donald Miller.  Mr. Miller is best known for his best-selling book "Blue Like Jazz," one of my all-time favorites.  In this book I am reading now, he talks about the power of a good story as he recounts the process of turning his book "Blue Like Jazz"- a memoir of his own life- into a movie.  In the process, he explores what makes a story a good story.  Along the way, he decides that a good story is about a "character that wants something and is willing to overcome obstacles to get it."  He then goes on to discover that his real life isn't really telling a very good story and sets out to change that.  I haven't finished the book yet; I'll let you know if he succeeds.  I saw on his website that he has a new book coming out this week called "Storylines," so I bet he does. :-)

Anyway (and yes, I know I am rambling a bit here) I have been thinking more about stories and what makes a good story and whether my life is telling a good story.  If I am the main character in my story, what is it that I want and, perhaps more importantly, am I willing to overcome obstacles to get it?  And, as a follower of Jesus, whose life is arguably the greatest story every told, how does His story impact my life's story?  

I think I will leave us there for today because this is getting long and I have a meeting to attend tonight. We will let this marinate a little longer and see what comes of it.

What do you think of this definition of a good story?  What kind of story is your life telling?

And yes, my dear friend, I do think your pet squirrel story would make a great blog!

 

Happy New Year

I've been living by the school calendar my whole life.  And on the school calendar, September is the beginning of the new year.  Each year, as September rolls around once again, I vow to "get organized" and refocus my efforts to get control of my little corner of the world.

I think I can hear God giggling. 

So this year, on Labor Day, I spent some time with my fancy calendar on my Mac...which automatically syncs with my phone.  From my phone, I run my little corner of the world.  I read recently that there is some value in doing things at the same time every day, so I scheduled my mornings with the things that I see as priorities in my life.  Once Brooke leaves for school at 6:45 each morning, I am scheduled to seize the day in this fashion:

7-8    Prayer/Study time 

8-9    Exercise

9-10   Shower/ pick up around the house

As you can see, by 10 a.m. each day, I will have nurtured mind, body and spirit and taken care of my lovely family by caring for our home.  By 10 a.m., I will be ready to get out there and face the world.   This new plan to tackle the world was to begin on Tuesday of this week.

Well, maybe next week.

On Tuesday, I got a good start.  I got up, got Brooke off to her first day of 11th grade with a packed lunch and a smile.  Of course, since I have been sleeping in all summer and my brain was used to waking up at 8 instead of 6, I'm pretty sure I slept through most of my reading and prayer time.  However, I did do it and, as always, was blessed by any time I spend with God.  He is happy to see me, even if I am sleepy.  

I was supposed to exercise next.  The problem was, I also was scheduled to meet some friends for coffee at 10 and then go to the Lamb Center at 1:00 and so I would need to shower first and well... the problem was is that my hair was already clean.

You can see my dilemna.

I had showered late in the day on Monday and it takes time to dry my hair and my hair was already clean.  I sweat a lot when I exercise...if I exercised, I would HAVE to wash my hair.  So, if I exercised in my scheduled time slot, I would be wasting a perfectly good head of clean hair.  And that just seemed wrong.

So I checked Facebook instead.  Then I got ready and went to have coffee with some wonderful friends with my already clean hair.  I then went to the Lamb Center and talked about manna and God's abundant providence with some other wonderful friends.  Later that night, having already utilized my clean hair sufficiently, I did yoga.

Wednesday was going to be a whole new day; kick off for the new schedule!  However, my husband came home from work on Tuesday with a 101 fever.  So I slept poorly in the guest room that night.  After Brooke left for school on Wednesday, I went back to bed until 9:00.  Woke up to find my sweet husband awake and feeling better, so I had coffee with him until 10:30.  Did get in a work out later in the morning, but mostly threw out the schedule for the day since he was there and distracting me from my new sense of purpose and focus.

So, now it is Thursday.  I think I am starting to feel a little more awake.  I did indeed have a lovely time of study and prayer this morning.  Hopefully, God found me to be a bit more interesting conversationalist this time....at least I was conscious.  Haven't made it to exercise yet, mostly because I had to brag about the Cowboys win on Facebook first.  I chose Tony Romo as my fantasy football QB and he scored me 23 fantasy points last night....so I'm feeling quite self satisfied about my football prowess. Even though Steve will probably take credit for it if I win my league this year.

So, what's my point in sharing this sad tale of best laid plans and my constant distraction from my goals?

I don't know, but it makes me laugh.  Life is messy and wonderful and sometimes it does not obey my attempts to tame it.  Kids and husbands need care and time and attention.  I'm so grateful that I am here and available to provide that care most of the time.  Friends need time and care and attention.  I want to be here to provide that too.  I know there are some things I need to do to take care of me....to fill my cup so that I have something to give.  To breathe in those things that give me life and strength.  To feed my soul by drawing near to God and His word.  To take care of my body so that I can physically be here for as long as God has plans for me.  To be around friends that encourage me and remind me that I am not alone in this journey.  Those things ARE important and I will neglect them, if I don't schedule them and make them a priority.

But I've known me for 48 years now.  I am easily distracted by something shiny, so I have to continue to take myself by the hand and gently remind me of what is important TODAY.  As I have gotten older, I have also learned to not take myself too seriously.  I don't respond well to stern reprimands and finger shaking.  Most days, I get done what needs to get done and, if I don't, then I put it on the list for tomorrow.  And most days, that is good enough.

So, maybe I'll try the new schedule again next week.  I still like the idea of getting those important things done first, so that I'm available to do my other "stuff" in the afternoons.   Like write blog entries!  Of course, today it seemed important to do that now instead of exercise.  Plus, I once again have clean hair and I have a lunch date with a special friend!  :-)

 

Why Do You Call Me, Lord, Lord?

I have a quote that I want to share.  Ponder this for a moment:

It is surrender to the known will of God that paves the way for the discovery of the unknown will of God.

I heard those words the other night in a video lesson by Andy Stanley in a series called "Discovering the Will of God" and I have found myself continuing to think about them ever since. 

What would it look like to "surrender" to the known will of God?  What do I already KNOW about the will of God?  In answering these questions, I find myself always going back to Jesus' answer to the teacher of the law who wanted Jesus to name the greatest commandment.  Three times in scripture we find that His answer to this query was "to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength and to love your neighbor as yourself."  In 1 John 3 & 4, John tells us that we are liars if we say we love God, but don't love our brother...and not just love with words, but love "in action and in truth."  In John's gospel, particularly in chapters 15 and 16, we learn that Jesus said we would show our love for Him and we would remain in Him if we obeyed His commands.  He went on to say that His command to us was to "love one another." Jesus also talks a lot about how we treat the "least of these" in our midst (Matthew 25,) so I'm pretty sure that loving and caring for the poor is also part of the equation.  In short, it seems fairly clear that one thing about which Jesus felt strongly was this issue of love...love in action, sacrificial love.  

So, going back to my previous question, what would it look like to surrender to the known will of God?  In all honesty, I find it much more interesting at times to wonder about the parts of God's will that are still unknown to me than to consider how obedient I am being to the parts of God's will about which I am already clear.  Wondering about God's will for my life and lamenting the lack of clarity I am experiencing gives me permission to sit quietly in committee in the safety of my easy chair.  "I just don't know what God wants me to do next" or "I'm still praying about that" delays my obligation to DO anything of any consequence.  

Don't get me wrong, there are times in life when I need to wait upon the Lord or pray for clarity on a particular issue.  However, the quote with which I began this post suggests to me a greater truth.  I am going to have difficulty hearing God's voice and discerning His will on a particular issue if I am not actively pursuing those aspects of His plan for my life about which I am already perfectly clear.  I KNOW already that God wants me to love Him, love my neighbor, love my family and love the poor with a sacrificial, all-encompassing, action-oriented love that is different than the way that the world teaches love.  Even if I never understand another thing about His will for my life, then pursuing this one thing...understanding this one pursuit...growing in this one area could potentially define my life and keep me plenty busy until He calls me Home.  Any other details that He might decide to let me in on would just be a bonus!

In Luke 6, Jesus asks the question "Why do you call me Lord, Lord and not do what I say?"  He goes on to say that it is only when we hear the Word AND do what it says that we build a foundation that will withstand any storm.  I know what my life looks like when I am attempting to love the Lord with all my heart, soul, mind and strength...I also know what it looks like when I am only giving that my half-hearted attention.  For me, peace only comes when I am in surrender mode because that's how God wired me.   I know I need that reminder every once in a while.

 

My Journey as a Runner

I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a, a book lover, a follower of Jesus, and recently, a very infrequent blogger.  While none of these labels describe all of me, each word gives you a bit more information about who I am.  When I blogged about labels last fall, I never in a million years thought I would ever add the word "runner" to my list.

As a kid, I dreaded P.E. class.  Don't EVEN get me started on dodge ball or red rover!  I have always much preferred curling up with a good book to exercising or playing sports.  As I have gotten older and my jeans have gotten tighter, I have begun to appreciate the wisdom of regular workouts and the physical and emotional benefits of making exercise a part of my life.  Because my husband has always been an athlete (the kind of boy I hated during dodge ball games!) we invested in a workout room with all the equipment a number of years ago and that has been my primary exercise outlet. For me, part of the appeal of the workout room is the television.  If I must exercise, at least I can distract myself watching E True Hollywood Story!  

One beautiful day this past May, as I headed down into the basement, I found myself wishing that my exercise routine could be done outside instead.  The flowers were blooming, the trees were budding and the temperature was a perfect 75 degrees.  The obvious choice would be to go for a run, but I knew that running was not for me.  My sister is a runner.  My brother is a runner.  Kelly is NOT a runner.  I am the non-running sibling.  I had tried before to run and I couldn't do it.  In college, my boyfriend (now husband) and my roommate talked me into going running ONE time.  I lasted about 5 minutes, at which point I turned around and headed back to the dorm to take a nap.  I am and always have been a very good napper.  I hated running.  I was bad at running.  I wasn't built to run and I had made my mind up about it.

However, in May, the idea of exercising outside persisted.  I went online to look up walking programs, thinking that perhaps a fast walk on a pretty day would be a nice addition to my exercise repertoire. Long story short, I ran across an app for my Iphone called Couch to 5K that promised a very gradual progression from walker to runner.  When I started in mid May, I would walk for 2 minutes, then run for 90 seconds, repeating this process for 20-30 minutes...all prompted by an encouraging voice on my headphones.  After a few weeks, I was walking 3 minutes, running 5 minutes...gradually increasing the amount of time running.  Throughout what turned out to be the hottest summer on record, I did this 3 times a week every week except one...I was too intimidated to run with all the cross country kids when we were in Philly on the mission trip!

Just recently, I started running the whole way.  I still do a 30 minute workout and I am now going about 2.75 miles in that time...not exactly a blistering pace, but I'm not in a hurry.  Just this week, it occurred to me that I now consider myself a runner!  My husband pulled up next to me in his car one day when I was out running and said that I actually looked like a "real" runner, whatever that is....having known me for 30 years, he said this with a bit of disbelief in his voice!  

So, why am I sharing this here?  This isn't a running blog, but more often a place where I talk about my faith journey.  As I thought about this progression from walker to runner, it occurred to me that I am learning some very important lessons in this process that are likely applicable to other areas of my life. 

First, I wonder how often we limit ourselves by stating absolutes about who we are or are not.  One of my girls said something the other day about the way she learns.  Her statement was said in such a way that it was clear she had made up her mind that this was an immutable fact...this was just the way it was and she had to deal with it.  As we talked, I encouraged her to not to limit herself at this young age and told her that the way I learned best had evolved at each stage of my education and was continuing to change as I grow older.  Growing and changing is part of growing up.  "I'm bad at math," "I'm unorganized," or  "I'm not a runner" are all examples of self-limiting and self-defeating statements.  I "choose" not to run is different than saying I "can't" run.  While a healthy and realistic understanding of our strengths and weaknesses can be useful in making choices about how we spend our time, I wonder how often we shut down God's plans to stretch us by immediately dismissing those things we have decided aren't our particular talents.  

Secondly, let's be clear, I am not a runner in the same way my sister is a runner or my friend Neil is a runner.   For me, running 3 miles without stopping to walk is a huge accomplishment.  For them, that is a warm-up.  But that's ok!  Letting go of the need to compare ourselves with the way another person does something is the beginning of freedom.  I am not ready to go running with anyone right now, I am not ready to enter a race right now, I am not planning on ever running a marathon right now...but I might change my mind someday.  Letting go of a particular image of who or what defines the word "runner" allows me to explore the new and perhaps, different ways that I might also choose to describe myself with that word.  The same freedom applies to labels like "mother," "teacher," "singer," "writer," "artist," or even "Christian."  Isn't it glorious that God made us all so different?  It is sad how often I limit His creativity by trying to be like someone else instead of celebrating my unique expression of my God-given abilities. 

Third, I did not become a runner overnight.  For me, the path was slow.  Perhaps others started running by just going out and running.  For me, that didn't work.  For me, the process of alternating walking and running is working, but it might not work for someone else.  For me, breaking my "run" down into baby steps worked at the beginning, but it might be too boring for someone else.  When I began the Couch to 5K program, it warned participants not to rush through the suggested incremental stages and it also advised you to repeat weeks, if you felt you needed to do so.  I took their advice because it sounded like they knew what they were talking about and because there were stories of others who had been successful using this approach.  I allowed myself to go slowly, I allowed myself to have bad days when I went backwards in terms of my progress and I allowed myself to be a learner.   In my journey with the Lord, I would be wise to remember the value of slow and steady progress, the importance of spiritual mentors, and the humility of always remaining teachable.

Lastly, for reasons I'm not sure I understand, I made up my mind to stick with this and so far, I haven't quit.  Somedays...initially, most days...I hated it.  On hot days, and there were many, I really hated it.  At first, my body hurt after every run.  And then, it began to hurt less.  It is only recently that I have begun to actually enjoy running and I am experiencing the benefits that drew me to try this path.  Now that it is cooler outside and I can run farther, I come back from my runs exhilarated and I look forward to the next run.  I may never run farther than 3 miles, but for now, I am having fun and it makes me feel strong and alive.  I am proud of myself for trying something new and doing something I thought I couldn't do.  As I move closer and closer to my 50th birthday and to the time when my little birdies will leave my nest, I know there are going to be many more opportunities to re-define myself and try new things.  That gets me excited to see what God has planned for me next! 

Lessons from this journey: be willing to learn, be myself, slow and steady, be committed.

Hebrews 12:1-2 (New Living Translation) ¹ Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. ² We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith.  Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne.

 

 

 

Why Do I Write?

For my faithful readers, both of you, you may have noticed that I have not been blogging lately.  I keep thinking that I will start blogging again when I figure out something profound to say...that assumes, of course, that I have EVER had anything profound to say or that the purpose here was ever to BE profound! :-)  I have had many posts rattling around in my head, but then they never really form with enough urgency to propel me to the computer to write it all down.  Sometimes, I think of something about which I could write, but then I think that it really isn't all that interesting after all this time away. It seems amazing, after almost 5 years blogging, that I have not blogged this whole year...all 29 days of it!

Although I haven't been posting any thoughts here, I have recently returned to the habit of writing out my prayers.  I find that I can focus my thoughts...empty out the noise...when I write out prayers once a day.  When I have run out of words, it is then that I listen best.  It also serves as a reminder of the names and issues for which I have been praying so that I can look back and see how God has been at work all around me.  If I have learned anything so far on this journey it is that God is always at work; it is my job to notice and say thank you!

So, in my prayers, I have shared with God my desire to write and asked that He guide me in that writing...show me where He can use my words to accomplish His purposes, if that is part of His plan.  I originally began to blog because I couldn't keep my thoughts to myself...I felt compelled to share and hoped that the discipline of writing in this particular format would help me find an outlet for those thoughts and prayed that my words might somehow encourage somebody else along the way.  For several years, God affirmed my pursuit through constant inspiration and the occasional feedback that, strangely enough, my words here were indeed of some earthly use to some of my readers.  Sometimes, that "fan" of my writing was even someone other than my mom!

So what happened?  Has the season for my blog ended?  Have I become too self-critical of my writing?  Do I censor my thoughts to such a degree that I have nothing left to say?  Or has God begun to give me other outlets for sharing the ways that I see Him at work?  Other ways of sharing myself...pouring myself out in pursuit of the Kingdom?  Perhaps a combination of all or some of the above?

I guess these are the questions that I am wrestling with now.  Why blog?  In the greater scheme of things, does my little blog contribute anything positive to the universe besides serving as a creative outlet for me?  And if it is just a creative outlet for me, perhaps that is enough? Perhaps that gives me permission to not say anything of any substance at all or to accidentally say something that matters to someone else.

So, as I mentioned before, I have been talking about all this with God.  Best I can tell, since He has not given me a burning bush or engraved stone tablet, He says "just write!"  That's all...kind of like the Nike commercial...just do it!  Don't worry about what anyone else thinks, don't even worry about what I think about what I write...just write!  So, here it is, me writing....we'll see what happens next!

Hell Week

We are deeply immersed in the wonderful world of theatre this week in my house.  Both of my teenage daughters are in the final week of rehearsal for their middle school and high school plays, affectionately known by the kids as "hell week."  On top of their regular school day and homework, they are each spending 4-6 hours every day after school in rehearsal.  Both girls have done a number of plays in the past, but this weekend is particularly exciting because they each have roles with a bit more responsibility and time in the "spotlight" than they have had in previous shows.  My younger daughter in particular has been rehearsing for this show since mid-September and has put in untold hours both on and off the stage in preparation for this weekend.  It is exhausting and exhilarating and has everyone running on adrenaline to some degree.

Simply, perhaps a bit selfishly, I love it.  I volunteer a fair amount with the middle school productions and I have been somewhat obsessed myself this week with all the last minute concerns.  Because of my involvment in a variety of production details, I have the joy of hanging around rehearsals sometimes.  As I have said before on this blog, I love theatre kids.  They are quirky and smart, creative and playful, exhuberant and demonstrative.  Unlike many of their peers, they don't see conformity as the primary purpose of their existence.  Through their participation in these productions, these kids are learning so many fabulous like skills; teamwork, risk-taking, comfort with being up in front of people, the experience of putting themselves in someone else's shoes and imagining how they might feel in a given situation, insight into human nature and what makes something funny or touching or inspiring, the responsibility of being in the spotlight while still being unselfish and generous with your fellow actors/ teammates, taking direction from an authority figure who has the big picture in mind that you might not be able to see, and the value and privilege of creating something that brings joy and happiness to others.  As I said, I love this process and I'm thrilled my kids have found this place to spend their passion for this season of their life.

I was having a conversation with my eldest last night about how she was handling the stress of having so much to do this week.  I have asked both my kids repeatedly, "is all the hard work worth it?"  Both have answered with a resounding yes each and every time.  While I absolutely believe I have to guard against my kids being over-scheduled and stressed out, I also believe that there are valuable lessons to be learned with a time-limited period of stress-producing, hard work.  Really good things come from hard work. Championship teams or fabulous shows, extraordinary works of art or meaningful acts of service all require us to pour ourselves out and, to some degree, use ourselves up.  If we feel passionate about something, if we really care about something, if we lose ourselves in creating something bigger than ourselves...we are really alive.  And that is a good thing.

One of my favorite songs has a line in it that says "the Glory of God is man fully alive."  Isn't it the best feeling to lose track of time doing something you truly love doing?  Living in a moment so fully that I temporarily forget my obsession with what has been left undone or what needs doing next?   Having fun...real fun, while pouring myself into a creative process that taps into one of the gifts that my Creative Creator has poured into me?  Perhaps, in the process, even connecting with other human beings in ways that cause me to celebrate our common humanity instead of focusing on those things that divide us.

Yes, hell week is stressful.  Yes, hell week is hard work.  Yes, the pressure is scary and the hours are long.  In spite of all that, I think my girls are having the time of their lives and on opening night (or opening day) hell week will be transformed into a little taste of Heaven. 

"The Glory of God is man fully alive."  It inspires me to have a few more "hell weeks" in my life as well.

The Meaning of My Hair

Over the last couple of days, I have been having some funny conversations about my hair with my friends on Facebook.  After spending my entire adult life with what I would consider long hair, I decided on Monday that it was time for a grown-up haircut.  Experiencing immediate buyer's remorse, I did the mature thing and started whining about it on Facebook.  The "conversation" that ensued has been great fun and I wasted so much time online yesterday that I am "fasting" from Facebook today.  (Blogging does not count because my Typepad account is set up to automatically post everything I write to FB.)

Isn't it funny the things to which we attach meaning?  I know it is shallow, but my long hair was/ is a part of how I see myself...part of the myriad of different things that make me, me.  I grew up in Texas in the 1980s, for goodness sake!  Long hair...big, fluffy hair...is part of being a girl in Texas where I spent the ages 12 to 24.  Besides being a life-long Dallas Cowboys fan and having a bit of a southern accent, the long hair was part of the total package that makes me a Texas girl despite the fact that we have now lived here on the East Coast for 20 years.  That and the absolutely fabulous black cowboy boots that I bought in Texas a couple of years ago.

What else makes me, me?   I am a singer.  I am a blonde.  I am a mom.  I am a wife.  I am a lover.  I am a book lover.  I am a mashed potatoes lover.  I am smart.  I am a sister.  I am a daughter.  I am a loud laugher.  I am loquacious. I am a woman.  I am a friend.  I am a writer.  I am heterosexual.  I am a fanatic about purple.   I am friendly/ obnoxiously overbearing (depending on the mood of the recipient.)  I am a social worker. I am white.  I am a good listener.  I am a Cowboy fan.  I am a Democrat.  I am wealthy.  I am a follower of Jesus Christ.  I am Beloved.

Some of these things are physical characteristics.  Some are preferences.  Some speak to my beliefs.  Some are aspects of my personality.  Some are luck of the draw and some are things that developed over time.  Some are choices, some will never change.  Some have always been true and others are just being revealed.  Some matter a great deal and some are of less relative importance.  Some will be less true in 10 years, some will be with me into eternity.

My point?  None of these things individually is all of who I am.  I am an evolving, changing, growing, learning individual and these things all together make up the tapestry of who I am.  If you made a judgement about what kind of music I liked based on the color of my eyes, you would clearly miss the whole picture.  If you guessed how I vote based on my religious affiliation, you would be jumping to conclusions.  If you guessed what color my hair was when I was born based on what color it is now, you would likely be wrong.  :-)  You get my point..., as humans, we like to categorize and simplify.  If we aren't careful, we fall prey to flash judgements about who a person is based on one thing that we know to be true about them.  People are much more complicated and interesting than that!

Yet, some things do matter more.  Each week when I go to the Lamb Center, I find that many of the parts of who I am that appear meaningful in the outside world, really don't matter much within those walls and around that table.  When I am there, I wear my most casual clothes...jeans, tennis shoes and a Lamb Center or CPC t-shirt.  I pull my hair back in a pony tail and leave the fancy jewelry at home.  How I look, where I live and how I vote aren't really of interest to these people who are so hungry for hope.  The fact that I love the Lord and I love each one of them is enough to belong to this community.  As we share our hearts together and mine God's Word for treasure, I find I am my most true, REAL self and I experience the reality of the most important aspect of who I am...I am Beloved.  Connecting to other human beings to experience that truth; the Kingdom of God drawing near.

So, enough of that, let's get back to my hair.  My husband says that, with my new conservative haircut, people will start thinking I am a Republican.  With the purple streaks that I will be putting in my hair, should I get my nose or my eyebrow pierced??

FOR REAL!!

My daughters and I attended the Revolve Tour this weekend with a group of 50 moms and daughters from our church community.  Along with 4,000 others, we listened, laughed, danced, sang and worshipped.  This event was produced by Women of Faith and was a celebration of all the beauty and promise that is a young woman in her teenage years.  I loved everything about the weekend; spending time with my daughters, spending time with many of my very best friends and hearing from some incredibly talented young women and men who have devoted themselves to letting teenage girls know that God loves them...for real!

Truly, I enjoyed the entire production and I was so grateful that we had made the effort to get this many girls to the conference.  The message, in my opinion, was something that every girl going through these tumultous years needs to hear...be real.  Who you are right this minute, the unique individual that God made YOU to be, is just the person that the world needs now.  Not a version of yourself that seeks to be like everyone else, not the version of yourself that blends in with the crowd, not the version of yourself that looks more like the magazine covers...but the REAL you, with all your quirks, your passions, your talents, your beauty. 

All the performers were wonderful and reinforced the theme message of the weekend.  The girls particularly enjoyed a young man named Chad Eastham who unraveled the mystery of what guys really think.  The girls in my car spent the ride home reading excerpts of his book out loud; much laughter!!  We are all inspired by a 14 year old young man named Austin Gutwein who showed them that even a kid can change the world.  The Drama Team made us all laugh and think.  The musical artists had us on our feet dancing and singing; Group 1 Crew, Stellar Kart, and Britt Nicole.  We truly worshipped and made a seriously LOUD and joyful noise to the Lord!

My favorite speaker was Jenna Lucado, the daughter of author Max Lucado.  Jenna's message struck home for me personally and is the one that I will continue to pray over my daughters.  Jenna started on Friday night by showing us the various ways the world defines us and then making the suggestion that we won't know who WE really are until we understand who God really is.  On Saturday, she expanded on that by relaying to the girls some really important points about who God is.

First, she suggested that we follow a God who really GETS us.  She talked about the special kind of friends who really know us and love us anyway...who know our quirks, our passions, our talents and our weaknesses and love us for all of them!  She said that God is that friend who gets us in ways that other people can't even begin to understand...in ways we can't even understand about ourselves!  He created each of us in unique ways that fit perfectly with the plans that He has for us.  Because of Jesus, He understands how hard life can be sometimes; what it feels like to hurt, what it feels like to be rejected, to be lonely, to be left out. to be disappointed.  He is the God who really GETS us!

She also suggested that we follow a God who has GOT us.  She shared a story with which many of us were familiar to illustrate this idea.  She talked about being scared of the deep end of the pool when she was little and how her dad tried to help her with her fears.  He would stand down in the deep end, hold out his arms to her and say "Jump!  Don't be afraid; I've got you!"  Our heavenly Father is the God who says to us "Don't be afraid!  I've GOT you!"  Scripture tells us over and over that He will never leave us or forsake us; that whatever we face in this life, we will never walk through it alone.  He doesn't ever promise that life will be easy, but He does promise that He will be with us in all circumstances.  This one brought me to tears as she spoke directly to those girls who perhaps did not feel that kind of safety net from their earthly fathers.  This God is the Heavenly Father who's GOT us!

Finally, she suggested that we follow a God who wants to GIVE us a new name.  She used the visual of big name tags with "names" we might give ourselves...names like "defeated," or "nobody" or "not loved."  She shared with us specific scripture verses that refuted those names and gave us the truth about who we are to God.  God names us "more than conquerors."  God names us "daughters of the King."  God names us each "Beloved."  God names us "Forever."  With the names that God gives us, we know who we really are and we begin to live with confidence from that reality. 

Who are we?  We are God's Beloved!  What did we learn this weekend?  God loves you, the REAL you...FOR REAL!!

Words

Words are the currency in which I deal.  Words are what I do.  Words that I offer in encouragement to friends and family, words that I give in guidance to my children or another who seeks my counsel, words that I sing, words that I read, words that I write, words with which another blesses me.  I delight in words...I find great pleasure in a phrase skillfully written.  I am inspired by words written thousands of years ago and preserved in scripture; words written in response to a long ago challenge that are as true today as they were then.  I am entranced by the power of a story well told in language that connects at both an intellectual and an emotional level; words that paint a picture that takes me places to which I have not yet traveled physically.  I am challenged by words from fellow sojourners on this path I have chosen; friends that I have not yet met who also seek to participate in this Kingdom of God of which The Word made flesh spoke when He walked among us.  Words that move me to action, words that entreat me to Be Still and Know.

My journey as this new season begins is a journey of words.  I have missed THIS place for words and I hope that as I invite God to speak His better Words into my life, some of them may overflow here on this blog.  I know that writing down what I hear is part of my journey, even if I am still a bit fuzzy on the details.  I have attempted in this busy time to clear space to listen; to others, to myself and to God.  For when I speak or write without listening, I am just making noise.  I am grateful in this season for a number of new opportunities to listen and teach.  I am saddened that it was time to say goodbye to other places where I have heard God speak in the past.  In all ways, I am aware of His abundant, extravagant grace and I am grateful.

On this day of remembrance, I am also aware that there are some great sadnesses for which there are no words.  A place where words are inadequate, where the only appropriate response is silence and love.  In those places, the ministry of presence knows that the only words that matter are "I love you and I am here."   My prayers are lifted up for those who mourn today for those losses suffered 8 years ago.  We have not forgotten your loss...indeed, our loss.

For those of you who have checked this blog regularly while I have been silent, thank you for your faithful encouragement.  Stay tuned for a rant that I have brewing on the healthcare debate :-)...speaking of the ugly side of words!!

Father's Day

Father's Day has always been something of an awkward, complicated holiday for me...less so beginning 15 years ago when I started spearheading the celebrations here in my own home to honor this wonderful man with whom I am blessed to be raising these two girls.  Even then, there was still that day when I stood in the card section trying to find the appropriate card for my dad.  The Hallmark version of fatherhood really didn't apply in our particular case and my sister and I often joked about the challenge of finding that perfect card to send.  "You were always there for me"...well, not really.  "You set the example..." ummm, well, maybe not.  Ultimately, there would be a card that simply said "I love you, Daddy" and I would know that I had a winner. 

Yesterday was the first Father's Day since my dad's death on the first Sunday of Advent this past year.  As I wrote then, Daddy's death brought a mixture of sadness and relief for all of us who had watched him struggle for so long.  Knowing that he is finally at peace has brought me a great deal of comfort in the months that have passed since then.  Yet, after I called my precious step-dad yesterday to wish him a Happy Father's Day, I found myself surprised by tears that came as I realized that I had no more phone calls to make.   I experienced a similar response in the card section last week as I looked for cards for the other fathers in our life.  This year, ironically, there seemed to be so many cards that would have been appropriate for Daddy. 

People often, particularly in those first few months, asked me how I am...how am I doing, you know, with my father's death?  It is so hard to answer that question in a way that is honest and honors the spirit in which the question is asked.  The simple truth; I am doing fine.  My grief for the loss of my dad began when I was 14 or 15 years old and, to be honest, the hardest work was done in my  20s as I worked to separate myself from the feelilngs of responsibility that I had for him and as I fought with all my might to prevent my trust issues from destroying my marriage.  It is by the grace of God's healing and the steady, patient, deep love of my husband that I walk this path today. 

As I look back over the 6 months since his death, I realize that I don't really miss him on a day to day basis.  I had built such firm, protective boundaries between our lives that he, sadly, was not part our everyday experiences, so it would be false for me to say that I miss his daily presence.  Yet, as we reach new milestones in the lives of our girls, I often think of things that I would like to share with him and I am sad that he is no longer a phone call away.  With a new driver in our house, I look back fondly on the process of him teaching me to drive and I would love to talk with him and laugh with him and hear him tease me about not knowing my left from my right, as I insistently remind him that I have now been driving for 30 years, thank you very much.  I cherish those "normal" moments when I think of those memories and I am grateful for the tears that remind me of the love that we shared for one another.  I have learned that there is no right or wrong way to travel this path of grief and have tried to be gentle with myself when my journey looks different than someone else's or different than I expected it to be.  As I learned from the 12 step program years ago, I must travel this path One Day at a Time and keep my eyes firmly focused on my Heavenly Father.

I don't know if we are still aware of what is happening here once we are with the Lord, but if you can hear me Daddy...Happy Father's Day.  I love you and I can't wait to see you again one day!

Someday

I will be turning 45 this summer.  For some reason, this transition seems more significant than my 40th birthday.  I guess it just seems so very grown-up; closing in on 50 being part of it, I'm sure.  Turning 40 seemed to be something for which I was prepared..."I'm almost 40 years old" was part of my vocabulary of phrases starting shortly after I turned 36, if I recall correctly.  I saw turning 40 as the boundary line for putting up with nonsense...as in "I don't have to put up with that; I am almost 40 years old."  40 said I am free to be my own person...who cares what others think.   40 was a reasonable midway point, 80 being a realistic lifespan for a healthy woman of my generation.  90 seems a little more like wishful thinking, so 45 appears to be on the back side of that halfway point.  45 has kind of snuck up on me and I wonder how 5 years passed by without me noticing.

45 feels more like I better get focused, quit wasting time.  Occasions when I think "someday I will ______" seem more pressing as 45 approaches.  No more allowances for potential, now it is time for "if not now, when?"  I know that people go back to school at 60 and learn new skills at 70, but the likelihood of teaching this "old dog new tricks" decreases as the years pass, especially for a procrastinator like me.  Someday I want to learn to REALLY play the guitar and piano (I mess around a little with both.)  Someday I want to write a book, study Greek, sing that awesome song I've always wanted to sing.   Someday I want to go to Italy and Spain and Greece and a thousand other places I've read about in books.  Someday I want to read the classics that I haven't gotten to you yet.  Someday I want to live at the beach.  You get the picture, we all have those things we want to do "someday." The approach of my 45th birthday makes me wonder when someday begins.

In 5 years, I will turn 50 and send my youngest off to college all in the same month.  These past 5 years simply FLEW by; I am assuming the next 5 years will pass just as quickly.  As I watch my girls grow up exponentially faster with each passing year, it occurs to me that I want to live my life very purposefully and very intentionally while they are still watching.  What are they learning from us about the ways that we spend our time, choose our priorities, live our lives?  What do they know about being a woman from watching me muddle my way through this life?  What will they remember about this part of their journeys that they will carry with them in their emotional and spiritual DNA for the rest of their lives? 

Healing Wounds

One of the profound mysteries of our Christian faith is celebrated today on the day we call Good Friday.  I read this scripture this morning and then looked it up in The Message translation:

1 Peter 2:21-25 (The Message)

 ^21-25This is the kind of life you've been invited into, the kind of life Christ lived. He suffered everything that came his way so you would know that it could be done, and also know how to do it, step-by-step.

   He never did one thing wrong,
   Not once said anything amiss.
They called him every name in the book and he said nothing back. He suffered in silence, content to let God set things right. He used his servant body to carry our sins to the Cross so we could be rid of sin, free to live the right way. His wounds became your healing. You were lost sheep with no idea who you were or where you were going. Now you're named and kept for good by the Shepherd of your souls.

By His wounds, we are healed.  I love how The Message says "He used His servant body to carry our sins to the Cross so we could be rid of sin, free to live the right way."  As I mentioned in my last post, the example Jesus sets for us in being a servant is really resonating with me right now.  I love that Jesus has set us free to be servants and that our wounds, our brokenness, our frailty can be used to bring healing to others.  Nothing is wasted in God's Divine Economy (2 Corinthians 1:3-5)  By His wounds, we have been healed.  His wounds become my healing...set free to love, I can be used for the healing of another.  The Kingdom of God on earth, Amen.

It is a Good Friday. 

Helping, Fixing, Serving

I can't believe that it has been almost a  month since I have posted an entry.  Ideas run through my mind all the time, but I can't seem to make it to the computer to share them here.  The Lord is good and continues to show Himself to me in so many ways.  We are headed to the ocean for vacation for Spring Break and I am hoping to find some time to write while there.  Sitting by the sea always inspires reflection for me.

Probably the most meaningful facet of my life that God has given me this year is the opportunity to serve at the Lamb Center each week.  I see God's presence there so powerfully and I am humbled that He has called me to be part of that community.  Isn't it interesting that the things that mean the most to us can often be the most difficult to describe to others? 

I read this essay by Rachel Naomi Remen in our Lamb Center policy manual.  While I would use the words "Kingdom of God" where she uses the terms "wholeness and mystery of life," her reflections about the nature of service and how it feeds the spirit of the server resonate so profoundly for me.  The truths found in the essay below beautifully describe the service that I see happening at the Lamb Center; a way of seeing life and living life to which I aspire. This season, learning to live life as a servant of the King in all aspects of my life...home, friendships, church, as well as volunteer work...is the focus of God's teaching and guidance to me.  As it says below, service comes from a place of gratitude, not obligation.  I hope you find the words below as meaningful as I did. 

In the Service of Life
In recent years the question how can I help? has become meaningful to many people. But perhaps there is a deeper question we might consider. Perhaps the real question is not how can I help? but how can I serve?

Serving is different from helping. Helping is based on inequality; it is not a relationship between equals. When you help you use your own strength to help those of lesser strength. If I'm attentive to what's going on inside of me when I'm helping, I find that I'm always helping someone who's not as strong as I am, who is needier than I am. People feel this inequality. When we help we may inadvertently take away from people more than we could ever give them; we may diminish their self-esteem, their sense of worth, integrity and wholeness. When I help I am very aware of my own strength. But we don't serve with our strength, we serve with ourselves. We draw from all of our experiences. Our limitations serve, our wounds serve, even our darkness can serve. The wholeness in us serves the wholeness in others and the wholeness in life. The wholeness in you is the same as the wholeness in me. Service is a relationship between equals.

Helping incurs debt. When you help someone they owe you one. But serving, like healing, is mutual. There is no debt. I am as served as the person I am serving. When I help I have a feeling of satisfaction. When I serve I have a feeling of gratitude. These are very different things.

Serving is also different from fixing. When I fix a person I perceive them as broken, and their brokenness requires me to act. When I fix I do not see the wholeness in the other person or trust the integrity of the life in them. When I serve I see and trust that wholeness. It is what I am responding to and collaborating with.

There is distance between ourselves and whatever or whomever we are fixing. Fixing is a form of judgment. All judgment creates distance, a disconnection, an experience of difference. In fixing there is an inequality of expertise that can easily become a moral distance. We cannot serve at a distance. We can only serve that to which we are profoundly connected, that which we are willing to touch. This is Mother Teresa's basic message. We serve life not because it is broken but because it is holy.

If helping is an experience of strength, fixing is an experience of mastery and expertise. Service, on the other hand, is an experience of mystery, surrender and awe. A fixer has the illusion of being causal. A server knows that he or she is being used and has a willingness to be used in the service of something greater, something essentially unknown. Fixing and helping are very personal; they are very particular, concrete and specific. We fix and help many different things in our lifetimes, but when we serve we are always serving the same thing. Everyone who has ever served through the history of time serves the same thing. We are servers of the wholeness and mystery in life.

The bottom line, of course, is that we can fix without serving. And we can help without serving. And we can serve without fixing or helping. I think I would go so far as to say that fixing and helping may often be the work of the ego, and service the work of the soul. They may look similar if you're watching from the outside, but the inner experience is different. The outcome is often different, too.

Our service serves us as well as others. That which uses us strengthens us. Over time, fixing and helping are draining, depleting. Over time we burn out. Service is renewing. When we serve, our work itself will sustain us.

Service rests on the basic premise that the nature of life is sacred, that life is a holy mystery which has an unknown purpose. When we serve, we know that we belong to life and to that purpose. Fundamentally, helping, fixing and service are ways of seeing life. When you help you see life as weak, when you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life as whole. From the perspective of service, we are all connected: All suffering is like my suffering and all joy is like my joy. The impulse to serve emerges naturally and inevitably from this way of seeing.

Lastly, fixing and helping are the basis of curing, but not of healing. In 40 years of chronic illness I have been helped by many people and fixed by a great many others who did not recognize my wholeness. All that fixing and helping left me wounded in some important and fundamental ways. Only service heals.