Christmas.

I’ve attempted to start a blog twice over the last couple weeks but have ended up typing, erasing, and then re-typing---only to leave them both half finished with no real pull to go back.   And so, as I reflect on what I’m feeling this Christmas season, I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t have one mainstream theme or one solid idea about what I’m living through this Christmas.  I suppose that, really, I have several things that keep tip-toeing and/or sprinting through my mind this year.  Some are good, and some are challenging.  Some are reminders while others are lavish outbursts of joy.  So, instead of writing about just one topic, here are my December 2011 highlights…..

FORGIVENESS

Nothing reminds you of the challenge to forgive quite like being wronged.  Am I right?  And Christmas, the birthplace of forgiveness, came in none other than a baby-sized package whose parents were constantly told “There’s no room for you here” over and over again until this King of Kings, Forgiveness himself, was born in straw---next to pig sewage and cow droppings.  I would assume that none of us would have chosen this place to be born, and yet it reminds us that the road less traveled and the road of humility is in fact the way to royalty.  It tweeks my heart, though tempted to close itself, to remain open and flexible and aware to possibility of Hope even in the midst of seemingly chaos.  And it reminds me that the heart that is not offended is always open to give and receive Love, while offense only triggers bitterness and resentment.  Forgiveness, though usually a journey, can also be miraculously quick, depending on my willingness to surrender to the greater purpose it poses.  God Himself.  He is always the end result, is always our Hope, and always comes through—even when He can come wrapped in a package we might not like at first.

PREGNANCY

There is something so special about being pregnant at Christmas.  I’m not sure if it’s because I seem to relate to Mary, or if it’s because of the anticipation and joy of what is to come, or if it’s just the pure nostalgia of it all.  But each Christmas that I’ve had a baby in my baby has seemed so magical.  It reminds of me of God’s faithfulness and Fatherly love, the joy He takes over His children, and the Hope of what He has on the horizon for them.  My heart is overwhelmed with gratitude to be chosen to carry another life.  It really is a privilege—and I always want to treat it as such.  And being pregnant at Christmas just feels so right—so divine and so aligned—at least for me.  The hope of a new year, and the birth of new life to come.

REST

I have a love/hate relationship with the holiday season.  I would definitely tip the scale more toward love, and yet the part I “hate” comes in waves—mostly the underlying anxiety of a gigantic to do list.  I love parties and celebrations and time with family, but as I’ve grown older, my need to re-charge and rest has become more of a priority than making it to every holiday function I have the opportunity to go to.

I got an email from a reader (and friend!) a few weeks ago asking me how I deal with managing priorities while also remaining obedient to God—in the midst of being secure enough about my decisions not to fear the reactions of others. As I wrote her back, it really made me think a lot about this season of life--the holidays in particular.  It’s so easy to get caught up in trying to please everyone while juggling priorities that really don’t belong to me, in the midst of family or friends that may do things differently than I do.  I would say this is probably an every day occurrence for people who are parents or leaders, and yet it comes to a head in the wake of December 25^th’s arrival.  I would say that in no way am I a master of such a topic, and yet after years of over-doing and over-responsibility, I am acutely aware when I’ve drifted from a place of rest into a place of overcompensation.  And just for that small victory, I am extremely grateful.  I wouldn’t suggest that rest looks the same for each of us because we all have unique personalities; we each have a certain flow of activities that can keep us feeling either in our groove, frazzled out of our groove, or drearily bored out of our minds until we find our groove.  And for each of us, it varies. But what I do know and what I have learned is that I can’t be obedient to God outside of rest and peace, and when I’m in that place, I can easily manage my priorities with joy while also not being swayed by the perceptions of others.  And while I am filled with that kind of rest, the holidays become a beautiful culmination to yet another year fulfilled.

BELIEVING

And last but not least, nothing speaks of Christmas like the choice to Believe.  We were driving down the street the other night looking at Christmas lights with Ella.  Just as we hit a stop sign, Josh Groban’s song, Believe, came on and I lost it as I turned around and looked at Ella’s sweet face smiling at twinkling lights to the classic lyrics “Give your dreams the wings to fly” sang through the car.  Call it pregnancy hormones, call it having a moment, call it the presence of God.  No matter what it was, I was in it.  And it’s moments like these that are so beautifully Christmas.  Hope in the midst of a manger.  Peace in a world of chaos.  And joy to a population whose rate of anti-depressants are at an all-time high.  The choice to believe will change your entire life.  It brings reality to the desires of your heart, and it heals the brokenness of damage from the past.  It’s what Christmas is all about.

And it is why I LOVE Christmas so much!

Whether you are forgiving or forgiven, pregnant with natural life or spiritual promise, full of rest or on your way to a good nap, may you believe in the goodness of God this Holiday season!

Merry Christmas to you and yours...

Say.

I'm in a dark room.

I scream out.

No one hears me.

I scream louder.

In You come.

You hear me.

You validate me.

You've created my voice--
To speak of Yours.

"Hold it down. Hold it closed. Shush!"

It says from across the room.

I'm in a chair.

My hands are tied.

"Lies! Lies!"

It spews and spells.

"Shut her up!"

And in You've walked.

Confident and full of poise.

You take out the gag drudged through my mouth.

"What would you like to say, my dear?
The mic is yours; now have no fear."

"What I'd like to say,"
I reveal from my heart
"Is that Your Kingdom is coming and from You I won't part.
You've changed my life; pronounced me free.
And there won't be anything that can stop me
From telling all of your Love and your Grace
And that at your Table,
There is always a place
To eat and to drink
From the fairest of fare
To breathe and to laugh
To enjoy and to see
It comes with a price
But really it's free-er than free."

~~~~~~~

Ever feel like there is a gag in your mouth? Like you have so much to say but you can't get it out?  I used to have dreams like that a lot.  I was trying to shout, asking for help, or trying to say something important--and I couldn't get anything out.

This piece of writing above actually came out of a dance I did a few years back for a creative conference.  Not only were my hands tied, but my feet were tied, my eyes were covered, and my mouth was gagged.  And there was also a person dressed in black continually tying me up...spewing at me every thing that kept me bound.  My only part in the process was whether I chose to believe that person or not.  As Truth came into the picture, you can see what happened.

Being tied up and gagged is a really horrible way to feel.

And, yet, I think most of us have felt this way from time to time.  In one way or another.

You have something to say, but something holds you back.  And so you spend years and years holding things in, not only the emotions and what you have to say, but also the attached resentment, bitterness, disappointment, and hope-deferred that comes along with not saying it.  And instead of feasting, you get by only through nibbling on the crumbs under the table.

Because, after all, it's not easy to eat a fancy steak dinner with a gag in your mouth.

Expecting that crumbs is all you get.

It seems that for some of us, it feels like we've been in quite the hovering cycle.  Around and around we go.  Getting a small breath of fresh air or a little bit to eat here or there, but nonetheless, still continuing to hover.

Fortunately, I have a feeling that's all about to change.  I've definitely walked through cycles where my gag decreased in it's grip around my mouth.  I was able to say more and get more to eat.

But the gag was still hanging in there.

And, yet, as we enter into this Christmas and into a New Year, I have a renewed sense of faith to Believe.  If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you might remember me referencing the number 11, as in 2011, as Biblically representing "transition".

And transition we did.

Do you want to know what the number 12 means? Perfection of government or otherwise put, a divinely constituted organization.  In laymen's terms, it means that the time of transition must have gotten us somewhere.  And, for us, that somewhere lies in 2012.

I understand that every new year has the hope of bringing something fresh and new...

But this year feels different. Doesn't it?

I know it feels different to the 30 people that we are praying for this Christmas.  They have messaged me prayer requests in which to believe out of sheer faith.  Some of these are big ones.  They involve a complete change in lifestyle, an absolute miracle, and/or a big leap into a land unknown.  They are banking on the fact that this past year of transition has prepared them for what is being divinely ordered in their path for 2012.

They are done eating small crumbs, and they have instead asked for the steak.

Gag out. They have something to say.  And they have something to ask for.

No longer believing that their inheritance is to hover but believing that they have something to gain, and they have something to give.

Because with feasting, comes sharing.

We're not tied up just for our own misery.  We break free from the ties for our own lives, but we also break free to give food to someone else.

And that's why we eat together at the dinner table.

Someone always needs to hear a story of Hope. As humans, we simply can't get enough of it. We were made for it.

So, as we make room in our hearts for that sweet babe to be born in us again this year, I pray not only for myself but for all of you...that we would receive the grace to say what we need to say, to ask for what He's calling us to ask, and to share with one another the process.

Let's feast!!

Redemption: November 27

Many of you prayed for my dear friend, Colleen, as she delivered her twin baby girls at 19 weeks gestation this past August.  She started having contractions as a result of Twin to Twin transfusion, and many--as in thousands--came to rally by her and her husband, Brett, as the time came when we all realized that the contractions were not going to stop.  I will never forget the sound of Brett's voice when he called to say that the doctor's had given Colleen an epidural and were going to make the delivery as comfortable as possible for her.  We all knew what that meant.  These babies would only spend a few precious hours here on Earth before passing onto their glorious inheritance.


What I will remember even more than that phone call is Colleen's honest, emotion-filled, hope-chasing recovery.  There are not many people who are willing to fight for Hope in the midst of feeling hopeless, but Colleen is one of the few.  It has been an honor to be her friend through the joyful times and the difficult moments of her journey of restoration and healing.  She is an inspiration to many, the mother of twins, and the wife to a very blessed man.


As her due date drew near, I asked Colleen if she wanted to share anything about her process as she sees Redemption become reality in the midst of difficulty.  She is an external processor and so sharing through writing, whether she knows her readers or not, is a beautiful means of expression for her. And, so, she decided to share a few thoughts with us in hopes there would be some closure of wounds while also allowing others to touch the beauty of her girls, Ellie Rose and Grace Noel.


I know that you will be moved by her tender words and triumphant heart.  She is one of my sweetest and most victorious of friends.




It has been a little over 3 months, and those two days of labor are still as fresh as when it happened.  At times, the memories and emotions fade, but, at times, they surprise me by creeping up when i least  expect.  

This week has been a difficult one; Grace and Ellie's delivery week.  On November 27th I would have been a complete 35 weeks.  For reasons that are to long to explain, the girls would have been taken at 35 weeks for their safety, November 27th.  This week has been  wild roller coaster ride of emotions.  As one might react on a roller coaster, I grip these emotions, white knuckled, trying to control them.  But, no matter how hard I try, the emotions still tug me back and forth taking me on twists and turns that cause whiplash and upset stomach. Today, Grace and Ellie were supposed to be in my arms, fully developed, fully breathing, with strong hearts ready to start their lives with Brett and I.  I wrestle tears at the thought of this.  When I start to feel bitter, sorry for myself, or angry, I take a step back, take a breath and try my hardest to allow God to enter in to those deep broken places.  He heals.  It is slow, but, He does. 

Despite the painful memories and emotions that continue to linger, God has been tenderly piecing my broken heart back together.  Sometimes, when pieces of our life aren't mended right in the first place, they need to be re-broken in order to be healed properly.  My failed pregnancy was my "re-breaking" and it has exposed those places in my heart that needed to be healed correctly.   All my fears, depression, anxieties, and accusations toward God's character came spewing out over the last couple months, and I see God mending it.  Even this week has been very healing alongside the deep grief.   Even in the midst of sadness and grief, God is abundantly kind, gentle, and gracious. 

I have been resting in psalm 139 this past week.  It helps me to remember that what happened was not a mistake, that God was in it, and that He was not unaware of my circumstances.   And then, there is one part of this psalm that brings me to tears every time I read it.  Ill share:

 ¹ You have searched me, LORD,
   and you know me.
² You know when I sit and when I rise;
   you perceive my thoughts from afar.
³ You discern my going out and my lying down;
   you are familiar with all my ways.
⁴ Before a word is on my tongue
   you, LORD, know it completely.
⁵ You hem me in behind and before,
   and you lay your hand upon me.
⁶ Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
   too lofty for me to attain.
 ⁷ Where can I go from your Spirit?
   Where can I flee from your presence?
⁸ If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
   if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
⁹ If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
   if I settle on the far side of the sea,
¹⁰ even there your hand will guide me,
   your right hand will hold me fast.
¹¹ If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
   and the light become night around me,”
¹² even the darkness will not be dark to you;
   the night will shine like the day,
   for darkness is as light to you.
 ¹³ For you created my inmost being;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
   your works are wonderful,
   I know that full well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you
   when I was made in the secret place,
   when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body;
   all the days ordained for me were written in your book
   before one of them came to be.
¹⁷ How precious to me are your thoughts,^[a] God!
   How vast is the sum of them!
¹⁸ Were I to count them,
   they would outnumber the grains of sand—
   when I awake, I am still with you.

Verses 13- 18, I read and re-read these verses daily.  God created Grace and Ellie.  He knit them together in my womb.  They are fearfully and wonderfully made.  THey were never hidden from Him.  Though they were with us a short 133 days, each day ordained for them was written in Gods book before any of them came to be (weeping).  They were no mistake.  And, the verse that gets me the most: He saw their unformed bodies.  And so did I. I held their little unformed bodies in my hands and I will cherish those few moments I had with them through eternity.

I think of Grace and Ellie everyday.  I think about what they might be doing in Heaven.  I think about them praying for Brett and I.  I think about Jesus telling them all about their mommy and daddy. I think of God allowing Grace and Ellie to peak down at us once and awhile.  I think about the fact that I will never have to worry about Grace and Ellie not accepting Jesus as some parents may have to face.   I guess thats what faith is,  Faith is Hope.  Without faith, there is no hope,  WIth out redemption for the human race, there is no hope.  We long for hope.  It comes in the form of Jesus on the cross and conquering death.  

As their due date comes to be, and as the Christmas season is in full bloom, I think of the birth of Jesus and the hope He gives me, that one day, I'll be reunited with Him and my girls.  What a joyous day!  Thanks to the God that makes restoration and redemption possible!  

(To hear more of Colleen's journey, go to: www.colleenslife.com)

Celebration.

We did most of our Thanksgiving grocery shopping this weekend, so we've had very full cupboards and countertops the last few days.  Every time I attempt to put something in the pantry, it just screams "bounty".  There is so much in which to be thankful.

I find that so often in my own heart, it is extremely easy to remember all that I am not thankful for.  This trial or that life circumstance--or this thing over here that I want to fix--or that person over there that I want to change.  It's in front of us all the time.

All kinds of things for us to be upset over.

There is definitely a time for releasing anger appropriately or crying out for justice or seeing a need that could use fulfillment--but so much more is there time to receive what has been given freely and to embrace difficult seasons with the same joy as those where everything seems to fall into place.

I tend to be more on the "feeler" side of the Myers Brigg's scale, which means I lean more into emotions and the sensational scope of life.  I still do "think", and I think often.  But I often start to think as a result of what I feel---as do a lot of women.  I don't find this as a bad thing necessarily.  In fact, I think it is where many women find compassion, and nuture, and strength.  And, yet, with any personality trait, there often are weaknesses.

I find one of my weaknesses is "feeling" so much of what is within me and around me that sometimes I can cease to be thankful.  It's a rough world out there, and there is a lot that needs changed and nurtured; there are a lot of people who need cared for.  Heck, it would seem that we all could use a little more nurturing and caring for.  But really, it all starts with learning how to receive the nurture and care we have already been Given.

Hence why I love Thanksgiving and Christmas so much.  It's such a beautiful season to remember all that we have to be thankful for, and in doing so, we usher in a season where the King is born unto us.  This happened not only in reality, but it happens in my heart year after year.  And it also happens every time I choose to receive what I've been given and be thankful for it--not necessarily in a robotic way--but just in an "eyes open" kind of way.  My prayer recently hasn't been as much for this to happen or for that to happen, but it's been much more along the lines of "Let me see what You are doing."

It's been a big transition for me when I am reminded to think this way.  When I change my perspective, everything else changes.  Trials actually become friends.  They become gifts that bring me to a deeper sense of gratitude, a more compassionate place for myself and for other people, and a greater appreciation for what I have been given.  They are almost like a winning hand at cards--if I ask to see what He is doing through them.

If I don't ask what He's doing, I often become a self-centered, whiny, victim.  I throw gratitude out the window and leave no room for any sort of resolution.  Because He is so graceful, He often still brings resolution--but it is much more rewarding when I get to participate with the process.  Not to mention, I spend way less time striving and way more time just cooperating.

So, this Thanksgiving, I am asking to be enlightened--so that I can be overflowingly thankful in return.  I'm asking to see what He is doing in my life, not only individually, but also in my family and my extended family, my church family and my friends.  As I do this, I see bitterness flee and frustration fade.  I receive and then give thanks.

And, then I watch as Christmas is ushered in.  The thankfulness makes room in my heart for a miraculous gift who comes in the form of a babe in a manger.  Again, possibly not the way He would have expected or chosen, but He knew what God was up to.  "Your Kingdom Come, Your Will be Done". It's in those places of trial and humility where Greatness is born.

And it's why we CELEBRATE!

May you be abundantly aware of all you have been given this Thanksgiving--no matter what form it takes shape!

Pausing to be Thankful.

This is my Baby Girl's favorite song right now.  As soon as it comes on, she runs up to me with her arms up high.

She wants to dance with me.

And so, we do.  As my newest baby bump starts growing, we have to maneuver new ways of how she can sit on my hip--but either way, we still dance.

And it's one of the best parts of my whole entire day.

I've been watching her so much more closely lately as she explores and talks and repeats.  God speaks to me so clearly through her actions.  The best part is that there is no trying on her end; she just is.  She knows nothing except how to be herself--and it is so very beautiful to watch.

The parenting books and mommy magazines have so much to teach us about parenting our children, and I appreciate them, I really do.  But sometimes, I just like to sit back and watch her.  I think she equally has just as much to teach me.  As David and I do our best to foster an environment where she is free to explore the beauty around her and to express herself creatively, I can't help but to soak her up like a sponge.  She carries so much life with her, and I'm so grateful to have the privilege of stewarding such a heavenly gift.

And I don't want to ever forget it.

When I was pregnant with her, I remember people telling me it would just get better and better and better as she grew up.  I believed them, but now I see it with my own eyes.  I'm not sure how one day can lead to more love than the day before, but somehow it does.  It is ever-expanding and life changing.

After every meal when I wipe her little hands off, I trace the outline of her each of her little fingers.  And then I just relish in the beauty of her hands, and her fingers, and her little life ahead.  It's one of those moments, that for whatever reason, is my pause moment in life.  I stop just to soak her up, to be thankful, to be blessed.  It makes my heart more paliable, and it gives me an opportunity to see the tangible evidence of God's love for me.  If I'm tracing my baby's fingers three times a day almost in tears, how much more is He counting the hairs on my head?

Ella was foretold to us many times before she actually came to be--way before we were even interested and/or ready to have kids.  And because of this, I knew that I was supposed to pay close attention to all that surrounded her.  She was the one chosen to open my womb, not just physically but also spiritually.  My labor with her was not just a hospital transaction.  It was an act of intercession...bringing Heaven to Earth.

Until it was time to push, I thought I might die.  And, in all reality, an old pattern of life did die.  That mode of striving and contracting and contending made a swift shift in one moment.  When Rest entered the picture, I entered pure bliss.  And soon after, she was here.  This gift that had been prophesied so many times, a gift full of so many promises that I didn't even realize were mine until she was born, were all here.

She is an amazing promise, for which I am so very thankful.


More on thankful....tomorrow.      :)

(Last year's Christmas photo...one of my favorites!)

Doors.

Ella has been playing this game for the past few weeks.  She's really into it, and I'm not exactly sure why because it usually ends up in frustration.  But, alas, she still likes to play.

She runs into her room and tries to shut the door (not all the way closed, but close)...then opens the door...then tries to shut the door...only to have the door actually slam into place.

And then she is stuck in her room.

And she cries.

At this point, I come over to the door and try to open it, only to have her push back on the door and watch it slam again...this time in my face.  Then, get this, she cries again.

So, we end up going through this ritual where I try to explain to her that if she pushes on the door, it will close.  At this point, her sweet little brain doesn't quite get it yet.  Though she loves cause and effect, sometimes she's still not sure about how the effect will turn out.

Sounds like me if you ask me.  As I was working on my book yesterday, I came across a quote from one of my most favorite books called The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron.  She so eloquently stated:

"If we learn to think of receiving God's good as being an act of worship--cooperating with God's plan to manifest goodness in our lives--we can begin to let go of having to sabotage ourselves." 

Amen.

When there is an open door, don't go trying to shut it.


One of my biggest pet peeves is false humility.  (I actually dedicated an entire post to it awhile back; if you want to read it, go HERE .)

This idea of false humility loves to dig its claws into people to tame them down.  It says things like "Please don't think you are worth that" and "If you love who you've been made to be, surely you are conceited" and "Who do you think you are?"  It slowly but surely sucks the life out of your passions and dreams and identity, not to mention clouding the goodness of God,  by carefully sabotaging you into believing that all that He has accomplished for you and in you, when you actually receive it, is prideful.  Wow.  What a jerk.

And, so, we have this horrible malady that faces Christians today encouraging them not to receive.  To push the door closed instead of letting it open all the way.

And, instead of receiving His goodness, we try to do it ourselves or sabotage ourselves by assuming that we are not worthy of it.


Fortunately, we are worthy because He made us so.  This does not promote pride, it promotes acceptance.  It teaches us our true identity as children.  And, unfortunately, not receiving does not makes us better off, it just makes us orphans.

All while He died to adopt us.

I'll never forget our last trip to NYC in May.  It was full of inspiration and enjoyment because David and I are in love with The Big Apple.  I remember walking down 44th Street (yes, 44!) on our way to dinner one night.  It just so happened that as we were walking, I noticed that we were strolling past the stage doors to several different Broadway productions.

And I have this thing about Broadway.

God has spoken to me about it ever since I was a little girl, and I get flutters in my belly when I even think about it.  The first Broadway show I went to, God's presence became so real to me that I sat there weeping as the curtain opened.  And, so, it has become one of my "signs" that God has asked me to believe for.  How or when, I have no idea.  I could be wearing granny pannies by the time it fully manifests for all I know. I don't even have the "training" for such a thing, but no matter, He has asked me to believe. And not because I can do it in and of myself, but because He can. And He'd like to show me His goodness. So, as I walked down 44th Street, I saw a Broadway stage door and decided to take a picture.  Here's what it said:

So, I stood there, and I chose to say no to unbelief ---and instead chose to receive.

A few weeks ago, I met my huh-knee for dinner in downtown Nashville.  He told me to take some time for myself and drive his car home and that he would take Ella home.  So, I hopped in his car and decided to give myself a few minutes to breathe.  Just as I was pulling out of the parking lot of Lifeway,  George Michael's song "Faith" came on.  Two seconds later, I hit a red light.  When I looked up, all I could see was the huge road sign in front of me that said "Broadway".

And all I heard was a still small voice say: "Receive."


See what I mean? He has me in a corner. I have no other choice but to believe. I sat there was for the longest red life of my light, just staring at that road sign because of course there was a "No Right Turn on Red" sign next to it.

No more blocking doors.  No more sabotaging myself with unbelief or false humility.  It's time to let the door swing wide open, receiving Him for who He says He is and for what He has done.

So, now I get to ask you! What are YOU believing for? Or what do you want to believe for? I would love to know. Really! Just leave a comment below or send me a message. I want to celebrate with you as He makes your dreams come true...as you receive the goodness of what He has to offer...

Receiving.

I've been going through this period of enlightenment so to speak.  It's been full of listening and receiving.  And, honestly, aside from that, I haven't been doing very much.  And it feels good, really good.

I've been studying about what Jesus accomplished on the Cross, and let me tell you, it sure is freeing.  I've been so thankful that over the last six years or so, He's been showing me what it looks like to rest.  But studying this, oh my goodness.  It is taking me to a whole different level.

Unfortunately, it seems that a lot of my years I've been taught a lot in church about all the things that I should be doing instead of ever hearing about all of the things I get to receive as a child of God.  It put me in a perpetual cycle of being the head of almost every committee, serving until I hit exhaustion, and then usually starting the cycle somewhat over again--except with a little bit more boundaries.  After I finished martyring myself publicly, I then became a stay at home mom.  It was easy to say no to outside activities as I was in a whole new zone, but the game I had been taught was not over, it just happened inside my house instead of outside my house.  And then I added not getting enough sleep, combined with the emotional energy it takes to raise a child, not to mention what it feels like to carry an intercessory gifting (that can sometimes make a person feel crazy in and of itself!), and I found I really did not get much of what I thought I needed to accomplished.  And, to make matters worse, I then felt GUILTY about it.

The good thing about this horrific cycle is that it has gotten progressively better over the last few years.  The bad part about this horrific cycle is that because of a few woundings I had, this system of religion took advantage of the real heart I had for my relationship with God.  It took a beautiful yearning and turned it into a sacred cow.  It made me compulsively introspective, constantly looking for whatever demon I might have lurking behind the shadows, and constantly asking God to clean me up so I could be closer to Him.  If that doesn't sound depressing, I'm not sure what does.  Thankfully, though, God uses all things for good--no matter whether I chose a wrong path or whether it chose me.  Each season over those past few years took me a little bit further into freedom as I learned more and more about my identity in Him.  My identity as a child of the King.  People pleasing intensely lessened--almost to the point that I can sometimes be considered too blunt for some...but the God pleasing, it wearily remained.

And I had no idea how to make it stop.

The last year, I've been on the journey to Believe.  God started bringing up all of my childhood dreams again, some wild and impossible to the natural eye---- and then you know what He did? He asked me to trust Him for them.  I was literally dreaming about them, running into "signs" for them all over the place, realizing how these signs had been following me my entire life and I didn't even know it, and then seeing doors supernaturally open for them without any of my input. And then I finally started to understand.  It was becoming easier to believe than not to believe.

He had me in a corner.

I knew that I knew that I knew there was no possible way for these dreams to come true without Him doing it.  And I ached inside wondering how they would come to pass. My whole relationship with Him, as well as my personal sanity, was on the line. And so began my understanding of the finished work of the Cross.

The law, all that do-it-yourself stuff, was killing me.  And in absolutely no way was it going to make these dreams that He had given me come true.  I could work and work and work, but this stuff, it needs a miracle of God.  And, so there was a cross.  A new covenant.

Somehow I had mixed the old covenant of the law with the new covenant of grace.  You know the 10 commandments?  Of course we can't fulfill them.  We can try and try to be on our best behavior, but it won't work. We'll mess up at some point. So, when we try to use the law to get closer to God, out of our own self effort, it always fails.

The Old Testament brings up all of these laws to point to the fact there is no way that we could ever fulfill them on our own.  That's the whole point. The law is not asking me to fulfill it but rather pointing me to the only one who can--Jesus.  Once He came and died, it was finished.  No more living out of that covenant.  And now, as believer in Him, I drink from His death.  I take communion with the joy of what He has done, not out of guilt for what I couldn't do or how I've messed up. I don't ask Him to clean me up AGAIN; His broken body did it the first time. He accomplished it, and I reap the reward. I drink in remembrance of what He has already done, and I give overflowing thanks because I now understand what it is to receive. I am not the martyr, He was. This was His plan all along! He is Love. And, so, I've become enlightened and flat out drunk with love.


Because He's not asking me to do anything He knows I can't, He's just asking me to receive what He's already done.


By faith.


I don't need to spend my days searching for sin to repent of or mastering a to do list He didn't make.  He's already taken care of it. If He shows me a place of unbelief, I will obviously be quickened to repent, but in His kindness, He is just letting me know that I'm missing out on some of His goodness---and then He invites me into it. Finished. I just say yes.

And those dreams? I don't spend time aching over if I'll be able to do my part to contribute to them.  Instead, I just enjoy the ride...like a kid whose Daddy just took her on the biggest roller coaster in the whole dang amusement park.

And, so, living out of this place of extreme Grace, I get to know Love.  And when I know Love, I just can't help but to give it away.  And when I give it away, I see how Grace has fulfilled the law.  I no longer worry about sinning or doing this or doing that--because I'm not even thinking about it.  There's just no room for sin when you're overflowing with Grace.

Whoa. Talk about a change in life perspective.


More on this coming soon....


P.S. A great source of reading on this subject is John Crowder's book, Mystical Union.  He may be too blunt for some, but I personally love it. He doesn't hold back.

Ode to the Dragonfly.

Funny story.

David happened to take Ella outside to play the other evening.  As he opened our screen door, in flew what I can only describe as a dragonfly.  It was big, and it was buzzing loudly.  I let our new little buddy fly around inside for awhile, but when David came back in, I pointed to it and kindly asked him to "take care of it".

Just as a little boy capturing a bug would,  he immediately replied, "This is what my Grandma would always do!" He quickly grabbed a cup and a sturdy motivational mail flyer about starting your own business, and it was go time.  He trapped the dragonfly between the window and the cup.  I could hear the dragonfly's poor buzzing increase and could also hear his head hitting the inside of the cup.  I'm sure he could only be thinking "Get me out of here!!!!"  Soon after, David slipped the sturdy flyer in between the cup and the window.

And then he started to walk the dragonfly and his temporary holding place out the backdoor.

As he walked the little bug out, I could still hear his buzzing and his head hitting the tupperware cup.  "You realize he is terrified right now, don't you?  And he has no idea that he's about to be set free!"

Wow. How profound.

Thank you, dragonfly.  You have served me well with a life lesson.  Next time I try to fly inside--thinking for whatever reason that it might be better in there, I will remember this.  And, when things start to close in on me, just like a blue tupperware cup, I will remember.

Sit still.  Don't give yourself a headache trying to desperately to get out of that cup early.  The cup is a only a temporary ride to get to my new destination.  OUTSIDE.

So, here's to you, dragonfly!! Cheers.

Thank You.

It's been a strange few weeks.  We've hit a few bumps in the road.  Allergies. Low energy.  Strenuous schedules. Family emergencies. And today, a toddler with a fractured tibia and fibula.  Some have been a little more life-altering than normal and some have just been the little things of life.  But when the rain doesn't just rain, but instead pours a little bit, I always have to stop for a moment and ask God what He's up to.  And in addition, I always tend to ask...did I go off course somewhere? Sometimes it's not a matter of me going on a bunny trail---but other times it is.  This time, I'm still figuring it all out.  The path of resistance can be productive or  unproductive.  Either way, God can redeem it, and for that I am so thankful.  And yet, in the process of understanding where the resistance is coming from, I do have a responsibility to ask where my actions and my heart fall in the process.

No matter where that is, and maybe I'll end up letting you know when I find out, I know one thing.  Resistance hates praise.  And so, as I embrace a small amount of suffering, I will still lift up my hands and say thank you.  Thank you for the trials, for learning experiences in which to grow, for Him loving me enough to take me higher--even in the midst of mistakes.

So, I decided I'd start my little journey by sharing with you some of my Thank You's!  I have lots to be thankful for!

1.  I am thankful that my little bug-a-lug lives in a society where she can get a hot pink cast for her fractured ankle...quickly.  What a blessing it is to have the medical facilities that we do in our very own small town!
2. As of October 1st, my same small town has taken flouride out of our city water! Now, some of you may be saying...but what about cavities? No worries.  There are other ways to clean our teeth, and flouride is very toxic! So, I'm celebrating less toxic water to drink, brush my teeth with, shower with, etc.
3. My huh-knee buns has been working on a very big project for work, and it will be available next week!  If you live near a Kroger (or a ton of other places...but who doesn't go to Kroger?! ha!), keep an eye out for the Here's Hope Bible that will be displayed by the registers.  It's an inspirational and testimonial infused Bible with stories from Breast Cancer survivors.  And, well, my huh-knee implemented that baby...and carried it to full term.  You go, babe! Not only am I thankful but so will many breast cancer patients and survivors who read it.  You've shared HOPE!
4. I got a voice over job a few weeks ago.  Oh, yes. I've decided to make a conscience effort to agree with God, and we're making our dreams come true.  And, for those of you who have been reading for awhile, you'll note my favorite number through my whole "believing" process has been 44.  God has used it to confirm my dreams, to encourage me, to heal me.  Well, after I received the email stating that I had gotten the role, I looked back at my audition outbox.  This was my 44th audition.  God, you so crazy good!!!  If you missed the 44's, you can follow here and here.  Oh, and the job? For none other the most delicious of treats.....Reese Peanut Butter Cups.  How fun is that??
5.  In addition to this, I received my paycheck for said job yesterday.  This paycheck has given me the mula I needed to progress with the book I'm writing.  What a provider He is...and what a Believer He is...in me.  And for that, I am thankful.  He's constantly calling me higher...helping me to let go of more...and helping me to receive more. Yay God!
6. It's Fall. Enough said!
7. I am thankful for Ella's toy airplane that often starts "talking" during the most random of times, even when no one is playing with it.  It constantly speaks to me, "C'mon! Let's go! Let's fly around the world!" How is that for encouragement?  Thanks, God, for her prophetically speaking airplane toy that reminds me not to stay grounded...even on hard days!
8. I am thankful that a dear friend, who has had lost two babies in the womb over the last few years, has beaten the odds.  She is about to deliver her full term baby (name and sex to be announced) in just a week or two.  Thank you, God!
9. I am thankful that we just got into the best milk co-op in the good old state of Tennessee! We've been on a waiting list for 10 months.  Organic milk and butter, eggs, and cream....only $2 per item. What a steal! Thank you, God!
10. I am thankful for you all! My readers.  Though I don't always get to write as much as I want to, I am constantly blessed by your emails and Facebook messages.  You are so encouraging and refreshing.  Thank you for supporting me in my process of being free in my writing!

So, with that, I guess it only appropriate to ask...what are you thankful for? I realize that Thanksgiving is still a ways a way, but I want to cultivate a lifestyle of thanks.  Not just for certain days, but every day.  No matter what I'm going through.  No matter if I'm in a bad mood or not.

Let's kick that resistance to the curb!

Dreams.

I've been thinking a lot about dreams lately.  Go figure. I am a dreamer. A sillyheart. I love to think about HOW BIG something could be, how possible God can make the seemingly impossible.  It's just how I am programmed.  Classic visionary.

But you know us visionaries, sometimes we have trouble getting started, implementing, and following-through.  (This is where I suggest marrying an implementer and administrative genius.  I did, and he kindly gives me nudges when I need it. Thank God!)

You can say that I have been born with a perpetual generational defect called procrastination.  Most often, I think it comes from a fear based place.  You know, I dream big and put my "faith" out there, and then when it's time to take a step, it just might take me awhile.

"Peter, it is I...step out onto water."

"Are you a ghost? I don't know if I.....Um, I think I've gotta go to the bathroom first."

Oh, Peter. You of little faith.  You must be the brother of Sarah.

But really, ever notice that the reason Peter fell was not necessarily because he took his eyes off of Jesus but possibly because he didn't believe in himself the way that Jesus believed in him?

I have heard the argument that Jesus doesn't believe in us; it's all about Him.  Though there may be some sort of a small streak of wisdom in that, I think it's really easy to make it "so about Him" that we lose who He made us to be in the process.  Ever notice that when you're constantly obsessed with repairing yourself and working on your humility because you want do something for Him, that you are actually just working out of a religious spirit?  He doesn't want people to do things for Him, He wants us to do things with Him. I've been subtly releasing my white-knuckle grip to allow Him some space to love me out of that mentality for, um, awhile now.

Anyway, back to that dreaming.  I have to say I like it.  I've come into this season where I'm learning what it means to step out onto that water.

One step at a time.

And finally, all those dreams and prayers, are starting to hatch....like a bunch of eggs in a chicken basket.  And each one requires only a little effort on my part.  Usually just the exchange of proscrastination for faith.  I just say no to the one and hello to the other, like a gift that is just plopped into my lap.  And I've noticed, that as each little egg hatches, I have a physical manifestation of the peace that was already mine to lay hold of...that really I had just been procrastinating to receive. I just had to simply let go...of the procrastination, of the excuses, of the fear.  And I had to give voice to the hope, and faith, and love that was ready to be birthed.

I have this amazing Mama friend named Christine.  And you know what she said? She said that if we don't release the intercession that we're holding, it becomes toxic in our bodies.

Our own procrastination kills us. (emphasis mine)

In a world where ugliness often abounds, the earth (and our bodies) are just waiting for that hope to be released.  It's healing....in a sick world.

So, when you think of a great idea, and you want to implement it but get caught up in that..."I don't know if I could do that", just change your mind, and let it out...receiving Hope, not only for yourself, but also for whoever might stumble upon your idea fulfilled.

It's just taking that step.

...and then watching His face shine as you walk out on the water.

Spirit to Spirit Parenting: Part 3

As promised, some practical tips on how to nurture your spirit and to also nurture your cutie patootie kids' spirits.

Sometimes I struggle with the practical, I am much more of a daydreamer.  So, though to some of you these may seem like common sense, let me assure you, they were not part of my common sense.

It's important first to understand the differences between your spirit and your soul.  Here is the easiest way for me to describe it, your spirit is the husband and your soul is the wife.  When your spirit, which is the head, is nurtured and charged up, the soul can then come underneath the spirit into a place of rest, fulfilling what needs to be fulfilled under a proper and healthy covering.  Sometimes as wives, we tend to want to be in front (oh wait, is that only me?) and then what happens, a hot mess.  Everything is out of wack, your husband is frustrated, you're frustrated. Riiiight.  But when he is filled up, he encourages you to also fill up and rest, free to express yourself and care for yourself in ways that re-charge you...and vise versa. Both spirit and soul are equally important, it's just that they have different roles.  The spirit was meant to take the lead.

So, how do you nurture your spirit? Well, I'm sure there are many ways, and I'm still learning, but here are a few ways that I use to nurture my spirit.

First things first, I call my spirit to the front.  It's ok. You can speak to yourself and to your spirit. I promise, it's a good thing. For those who are the sensitive type, you may even feel a shift or butterflies in your stomach.  Then, I usually have a small prayer I do that goes something like this: (feel free to pause as you feel things shifting--no need to hurry)


I call my spirit to attention in the Name of Jesus, I now ask my soul to step aside, and I call my spirit to the front. I bless my spirit in the Name of Jesus. I now call my soul to attention. I bless my soul in the Name of Jesus. I ask my soul to come behind my spirit. I now call my body to attention, I bless my body in the Name of Jesus.  I ask my body to come behind my soul, which is behind my spirit.  I ask for divine alignment between God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit and my spirit, soul, and body. I ask for fresh infilling and indwelling of the Holy Spirit to be with me throughout the day.

Whew. I feel better already. It's like a chiropractic adjustment.  (I have a longer version of this prayer that is just wonderful. If you want it, just email me!)

Next on the list...

Spirit Blessings: These are amazing and have probably been one of the best ways to change a bad day around quickly.  I went through these two books in order, and I was touched the way God lined each blessing up exactly with what was going on in my day.  With your spirit already in the front, you are all ready to soak up some blessings through your WHOLE being.

Here are two fantastic resources: Here and also Here.

There is even a sample blessing that you can read through before you possibly choose to purchase one.

Just by doing this, especially in the morning, I can start my day off feeling full and rich and with a lot to give to my hubby, Ella, and Howie. ;)

Some other ways I nurture my spirit throughout the day include:

Participating in some creative medium whether writing, dance, acting, etc. You can choose whatever activity makes you feel nurtured.

Read the Bible with my spirit up front.  It's amazing what you'll see that you didn't notice before.

Pray in my prayer language.  Paul said he prayed in tongues to edify and build himself up. Yup. So, if you have one, feel the freedom to do so. It works. And quickly. And you can even do it when washing the dishes or scrubbing the kitchen floor.

Make time to hang out with big-spirited people.  You know who they are.  And when you find a friend who is also nurturing his or her spirit, your relationship goes to a whole different level.  I think it's the community and intimacy that we are all looking for in friendships, and in marriage, and in family. Spirit to spirit is much deeper than soul to soul.

Bless someone else's spirit.  It is as easy as a simple compliment (that is genuine--not flattery) that validates who they are, or you can read a blessing from one of the books above to another person, or you can bless someone spontaneously with what comes to you in the moment.  David and I often take time to read blessings over each other and over Ella from the books mentioned above. It never gets old. Just think of how many times in the Bible people were waiting to be blessed or to receive the inheritance. Jesus died, so we can ALL receive infinite blessings and our inheritances.  But so often, people just don't know where to find them. Be blessed!

As far as the kiddo's go, I love to read and write my own blessings over Ella.  I also like to include her when I'm doing something that nurtures my spirit.  I love to dance, so I bring Ella along to dance with me.  Most often our kids will have some interests that are similar to ours, and that brings an opportunity for us to connect on a deeper level.  In fact, David's been learning to play the guitar.  And when he takes it out to play, even just the beginning chords he's learning, Ella immediately starts to dance. It's so beautiful.  It's spirit to spirit.

I also try to be very intentional of blessing Ella directly in the eyes.  She is a toddler, so they are often quick ones, but it is so very sweet when our eyes meet, and I say "I just love you!" or "You're so wonderful!"  There is something supernatural about eye contact; it opens up our spirits to one another.  David and I laugh sometimes because Ella often stares at people...strangers, friends, whoever....right in the eyes. She's always seeking a more intimate place of knowing someone because that's what she knows.  People think she's having a staring contest, but really, she's just getting to know them. ;)

I also try to have playdates for Ella with other kids who are big-spirited.  Just like we need time with friends who nourish us, so do our kids.

And most importantly, I live out of my nurtured spirit as best as I can as often as I can.  When Ella is around me when I am flourishing, she automatically flourishes.  She is in the copy cat stage, and she's looking to her parents to know how to live.

And last but not least, be flexible. I don't do all of these everyday.  Realistically, some days are better than others, but I try to do at least several things to nurture my spirit and Ella's spirit everyday.  And I leave myself open to new things.  Sometimes it's driving with the windows down, sometimes it's a movie, sometimes it's new music.  It's different every day, but for me, I love the variety because it keeps me constantly searching for something new.

We've been nurturing our spirits intentionally for about four years now, and I have never felt more alive.  It's amazing how our perspective shifts and how miracles occur when our spirits are up front.

So, all that to say...I hope your spirit's are nourished and nurtured today!!!

(A picture of Ella helping me choreograph a dance with fun fabrics and one of Ella dancing to Daddy's song)

Spirit to Spirit Parenting: Part 2

I love prophetic pictures throughout daily life.  God gives us such a beautiful gift of "seeing" as we become parents that was often lacking before we became parents.  I love that I get to re-claim my own childhood while parenting. It is such a gift.  To Him, we will always be kids.  Though our relationship changes as we grow more mature throughout life, I never want to forget who I am.  I am His kid.  He will always be the caretaker, provider, and nurturer in the relationship.  I will always first be the recipient, and after being the recipient, will then be able to give back to Him and to others.

Onto my exhibit A of the day....

It is a beautiful day outside, and I wanted to be able to take Ella to the park to make up for all the hot days this summer where we needed to stay inside.  So, as is our routine, I say to Ella "You want to go upstairs?" She happily toddles over to the staircase and waits for me to take the gate down--knowing that it is a special treat when she gets to climb the stairs.  We get to the top of the staircase, and I tell her it's time to get her diaper changed so we can go to the park.  She knows what diaper change means and also knows that she'd much rather run around having me chase her into the closet or behind the rocking chair than get her said diaper changed. As I was trying to to catch her, I automatically sensed God closely by.

"Quite a picture, isn't it?" He said.

Here I was, wanting to take Ella to the park, wanting her to enjoy her day, and there she was avoiding the one thing that needed to take place before she could bask in the fun.  Cleaning up that poop.

We all know the famous children's book, "Everybody poops." Oh, do we.  And thank God He is kind enough to change our diapers.  But how often do I, when posed with a day of fun at the park choose to avoid the cleansing process that must come beforehand?

Oy.

Instead, I whine and grovel about how un-fun it is to get my diaper changed.  I run and hide behind the rocking chair, thinking maybe He won't see me...or I go into the closet and play hide and seek behind Daddy's dress shirts.  I'm sure I'm the only one that does this, right?

And so is life.  There are an unimaginable amount of blessings, gifts, surprises, and vacations hidden behind that dirty diaper.  And though we will have to go through the diaper changing process more times that we would care to admit, there is always something good just around the corner.  And my job is an easy one, I just lay there and let Him help me out.  He doesn't need my assistance (have you ever changed a diaper with toddler fingers in the way?), He'd just like me to stop squirming and to relax.  The process will go very quickly, painless even, if I just give up.

And somewhere down the line, I learn that the quicker I let go, instead of making Him chase me, the quicker I get to the park.  Because, thankfully, His intent isn't to spend a lifetime on the diaper changing table, His intent is to enjoy what's coming afterward.  The diaper change is just a quick step to the fruitfulness the day will hold.

He is a good God.  And He takes good care of us.

Thank Goodness.


(Next blog tomorrow is the practical tips, promise!)

Spirit to Spirit Parenting: Part 1

So, let's just be honest.  When most of us became parents, we didn't know what the heck we were getting into.  When I gave that final push, I had no idea how my life would change.  At the time, I was thanking the Good Lord that my baby was actually outside of my body after 5 days of labor.  I told myself over and over again how I was gonna go natural and how "I" could do it all by myself, and then somewhere between my water breaking and almost smacking my poor, exhausted husband for asking if I needed anything (women in labor are SCARY), I decided "GIVE ME THAT EPIDURAL!"

Since I have never had a drug of any kind other than tylenol, I immediately fell into that deep, sedated place of "Whoa...this is the kind of rest I've been missing?"  And an hour later, I had dilated 5 centimeters and laughed my baby out (not kidding).

This is kinda like this phenomeon I call living out of your spirit.  It's a lot different than living out of your soul.  You know that place you go round and round again in your daily living and your spiritual life? Like contractions that hurt like a mother and barely dilate your cervix? Yes, that's when your soul's in charge.  It doesn't mean there isn't any progress, it just means that the progress is often more painful than it needs to be and it takes forever.  Not to mention, you go round and round and round.  But, that epidural, well, it took me to a whole different place.  My whole being came into a place a rest.  That needle went right into my Central Nervous System, and I progressed like wildfire.  Not to mention, I was much more pleasant to be around. Just ask David.

Now up to this point, I had been nuturing my spirit. I was learning how to develop and celebrate that unique place of Him in me.  And then, I had a baby.  And I quickly realized that I also got the unique privilege of developing and celebrating that unique place of Him in her, from a much earlier starting point.    Considering she had gone through many a less trials in her short life time here on earth, I figured why not get this party started the right way!

David would read blessings over my womb night after night, calling her spirit to the front, bringing her into a place of great rest and acceptance.  And I would hold my belly, feeling her kick in response to the voice of her Daddy...falling right in line with those blessings and knowing that all was right in her little world.

This took an amount of discipline on our part.  We were better at it some days than we were on other days, still learning what it was like for the two of us to live out of our spirits.  But the longer Ella is around, her spirit most up front and active (let's just say babies learn a lot faster than adults!), it opens our spirits to respond to hers.  And we all end up living more vibrant and fulfilling days.  Is that not one of the most fun things about parenting? The fact that it is a mutual relationship of giving and receiving, making each one of us more whole and alive. I just LOVE that.

And further more, it makes mistakes much more easy to deal with. I know there is no way to be the perfect parent, we will mess up.  But as Ella's spirit grows and is nurtured, our mistakes make less of a dent.  Yes, there is still apologizing and forgiveness involved, but it hurts a lot less when someone does something to wrong you when your spirit is healthy and full.  If you know who you are and Who you belong to, a mistake becomes...well...a mistake and not a lifetime of woundedness to work out and drudge through like a bitter soul entangled in fear and resentment.  Ever heard of the term "No skin off my back?" Yes, exactly.

Now, of course, I've painted a pretty picture above.  And most the time it is, well, pretty.  But there are days when our patience is low and our energy is lacking, and this is not always a "quick fix" to all of life's little trials.  But what I've found is if I take just 10 minutes to quiet myself and allow my spirit to rise above my soul, it is always easier.  And, well, I take that "My yoke is easy and My burden is light" scripture seriously.  And this has helped.  None of my own works.  Just a small step of obedience, allowing His spirit the available space to be first in me, instead of my own will.

And when all of us have our spirits charged up and full, well, family time is just what the doctor ordered.  It's real community and fellowship; it's rich and vibrant, challenging and affirming.  We speak into each other's lives and bring the best out of one another.  Even Howie. ;)

And it works the same way in your marriage, in your workplace, when you get to the window at Starbucks, and when you go about your whole...entire...day.

Some of you have been asking about some practical ways to do this......coming up soon!

Alabama, the Beautiful.

So, I had the most amazing weekend.  I have been attempting to somehow get at least the smallest glimpse of what manifested in those few days onto a blog.  I've gone through several emotions while pondering how to share it.  Parts were so intimate that I couldn't dare share, they're too close to my heart to open them up.  And other parts, they were flat out hilarious...and I don't know that I could articulate just how funny they were in the moment.  And then other moments, well they were just so supernatural that I could not even try to re-create it.  It just was. He just was.

But let's just start with what I do know how to articulate.  I would like to articulate that having best friends who are older than you rocks.  Some of the women I got to be with (and others who weren't there--but you know, were still there in spirit) just make my life awesome.  They make me smarter, wiser, more lovely, and they also help me waste way less time.  And not only that, but the 30 year gap in age is not a gap when you are seeing each other in light of eternity.  It is brilliant, God's gift to us to live cross-generationally.  Oh, that more of us would get to experience best friends of all different ages.

In addition to being with them, I also got the opportunity to step into the lives of over 50 other people.  Some that were acquaintances and some that I had never met.  It is a beautiful thing, stepping into the life of someone else.  And not only stepping in but then asking God how to bring out the best in them, especially those parts that are buried, broken, hidden, or scared.  And together, that's what we did.  Sometimes it involved conviction and well, was, downright sobering, but that's what makes being intimate beautiful.  Knowing that behind the alert awareness of our sometimes skewed reality was always love, cheering each one of us on to live more full, free, and passionate lives.

And even better than that was the beauty of interacting with one another, not just from a natural perspective but by a spiritual perspective.  The last few years (because of the encouragement of those older, wiser friends), I've had the unique pleasure of starting to live--not out of my soul--but out of my spirit.  Let me tell you, this makes life A LOT brighter.  It's the transition from living in my mind and in my own will to living in Him.  The place where He resides in me.  When my spirit lives in front and is nurtured, then my mind just falls right in behind it, resting in the Truth of the freedom that is already in place.  And then you know what? My body comes right into place after that, and all those achy ailments seem to heal up, and my body functions so much better.  There is no performance, no striving.  Just living in the reality of what Jesus already did for me. Really beautiful, isn't it?

Yes, well that's where it got really good.  Instead of drinking of one another's souls, we drank of one another's spirits.  That place where He is living uniquely in and through me, it shares communion with how He is living uniquely in and through her.  And her.  And him. And so on.  Talk about community.  Talk about feeling full.  Talk about feeling rich.  Oh, we did.  We Talked.

And by the time I left, I felt like I just might fly on outta here.  Heaven felt really close.  And, so, it explains how in some ways it was hard to articulate---because this feeling, and this reality, was so large and beautiful that I sometimes don't know what to say.  But I am hoping that over the next few months, as I see the reality and practicality of what happened start to play out in my life, then I will get to share that with you.  Because it is so beautiful, it must be shared.

So, I'll be writing more soon.....


(corresponding song: Life in Technicolor II by Coldplay)

Was it worth it?

Every once in awhile, my huh-knee will get this fantastic family idea in his head.  This usually involves not only toting Ella around somewhere overly-crowded in 150 degree heat, but also a giant St. Bernard whom we lovingly call "The Howie-nator".  Now, let me preface this short story by proclaiming my absolute love and fondness for my husband.  He is a family man all the way, and that includes the dog.  And, though I may give him a hard time in this blog, I would have it no other way.

The time is 4:05pm Sunday afternoon.  David had been licking his chops for about 30 minutes while perusing the website for Rita's Custard and Italian Ice in Nashville.  He heard about it through his beloved brother, Dan.  Now, if you know the two of them, you'll know that if one of them tries something...so does the other.  So, back to the story.  David is licking his chops and asks me, "Are you hungry for dinner?" I respond with an "Um...not too hungry."

And he jumps on his chance.

"You want to go to Rita's?"

"For dinner???"

"Sure!"

"Well, Ok."

So, sure. We're hip.  We're free. We're spontaneous.  Let's eat dessert before dinner. Heck, let's eat it for dinner as a matter of fact.

Within a few minutes, he has already changed Ella's diaper and gotten her in the car all ready for the 40 minute drive (without putting on her shoes--but, hey, it's summer, right?).  I giggle as he turns into an excited little schoolboy right in front of my very eyes.

And then comes the kicker.

"Can we bring Howie?"

"Ohhhhh....you really want to? Don't you remember the Franklin Festival? Too many people and a Beethoven look-a-like.  We couldn't walk two inches without 50 kids trying to ride our dog.  Or what about when you wanted to take him for the ride to Ohio? He got spooked by a semi-truck and sat on my lap for three hours. Do we have to bring him this time? Maybe we should go the three of us so we can just enjoy ourselves."

"Oh, c'mon. It'll be fine." He begs.

"Fiiiiiine."

And, into the back of the Honda Element jumps Howie.  Now, please understand, I love this dog.  He is my heart and soul.  But, let's just say, he's not great to travel with.  He sticks his big head in between us and slops my arm with a thick layer of slobber, in addition to it drip drip dripping all over the counsel.  If we hit a small bump, he usually gets spooked and ends up in the front seat with me or at least with his big paws all over my lap.  Ella thinks it's hilarious, as he knows better than to sit on her.  But, mama, she's usually the one comforting the big ogre.

So, off we go.  To Rita's.

The ride there was mostly uneventful.  Just the usual chit chat.  And then........ we arrive. As I pull Ella out of the car, I realize she has spilled the entire contents of her sippy cup down the front of her onsie.  Oh well, it's summer. I'll just let her walk around anyway.

Oh, she doesn't have shoes. Stroller? Oh, we took it out so Howie could fit in the car.  Ok, "no big deal" I say to myself. I'll just hold her, and David can take care of Howie.

It's as if Howie is some sort of magnet.  We have barely even opened the door yet, and we already have fifteen pairs of eyes glued to our car.  Howie jumps out the door in slow motion, jowls bouncing, and his upper lips forming balloons as he lands onto the cement parking lot.  And here it comes...

"That there is a St. Bernard!"  "Whoooooooa." "Look at that dog!"

Oh, and I forgot to mention we gave Howie a first time hair cut at home the day before.  And, well, it's not bad, but let's just say it ain't perfect...

So, we make our way through the small crowd thanking our audience for their kind remarks as the side of my shirt soaks up any extra liquid that Ella's onsie might have been carrying.  At this point, one of the women who works at Rita's has already come outside with a giant cup full of water and three huge dog biscuits.  Where she got the biscuits off hand, I have no idea.

David and I try to figure out how to tie Howie to the bench so we can go inside and order our custard.  Meanwhile, a 70 year old bystander (who apparently is an expert on big dogs) introduces himself to us.  He offers to hold Howie's leesh while we go inside to get our ice cream.  I politely decline, letting him know that sometimes Howie pulls when he is out of his normal surroundings.  He insists that he can handle him, and David just continues to tie Howie to the bench that is cemented into the ground.  Trust me, Mister, you'll thank us later.

I go inside to order Ella and I an ice cream cone (sprinkles, of course).  David continues to visit with our new "friends" while I finish up, and I get outside just in time to see a sweet old lady with a cane and sunglasses petting Howie's head.  This makes me somewhat nervous, as Howie is not a fan of sunglasses.  David goes inside to scope out the fifty flavors of Italian ice leaving Ella and I to watch the dog and pray that he doesn't get overstimulated with ten people all up in his face.  All of a sudden, sunglasses lady decides to pull on Howie's ear.  Howie lets out a bark....a loud one (he doesn't like anyone else but us touching his ears--just a thing he has).  At this point, we know...the St. Bernard is overstimulated.  Used to sleeping away 22 hours of everyday and only interacting with his baby sister, he's wondering what the heck is going on.  Not to mention that two minutes later, up pull two LOUD motorcycles.  They are not only wearing helmets but also sunglasses.

Poor Howie. The dog can't get a break.

Howie ends up trying desperately to break free from his leesh that is attached to the bench.  I look inside and hear David say "I'll take the pear!" in a tone of panic and then practically throws his money on the counter.  Meanwhile, Ella and I are soaking wet with a melting ice cream cone dripping all over the place (did I mention it was over 100 degrees?) trying to calm Howie out of his hysteria.  P.S. It's hard to calm down a 140 lb dog who just got the wind knocked out of him by a motorcycle mob.  All the while I'm praying to God that he doesn't get loose from this bench and start running across the street into a major intersection.

David runs outside, as everyone visiting Howie goes into "fix it" mode.  The Rita's worker says "Oh, I know!!!! I'll just go get 'im a'nother biscuit!!" The expert on dogs starts coaching us on collars that will keep Howie from pulling. "You know...if you get a collar called such and such......he wouldn't do that."

Followed by, "Where'd he get that haircut?"

Oh my gosh. Could this trip get any worse?

David starts shoveling his pear Italian ice into his mouth, realizing that we have only a few moments of sanity left.  He quickly calms Howie as he unravels his leash from in between and around his legs.  I look at him with the "Let's go" look.  

And off we go, heading back to the car.  Ella is barely hanging onto my hip, her nose covered in little sweat beads and her curly-Q's quickly turning into perfect, wet ringlets.  Howie jumps back into the car, and I hold out the rest of my ice cream cone.  "Here ya go, buddy."

Mr. Dog Expert (following us to our car) continues to rattle off facts about collars as he we quickly buckle our seatbelts.  The key goes in the ignition, and off we go.  40 minutes back toward home, our Rita's excursion only lasting 15 minutes.

As we merge onto the highway, I let out a chuckle, and ask, "So? Was it worth it?"

The fact is, in the midst of the crazy scenario, it never seems worth it.  But, afterward, when you get a chance to look back--it's always worth it.  Sunglasses and all.  It's memories like this that make us a family, and it's memories like this that will be re-told over and over again at Christmas Eve get-to-gethers and Thanksgiving meals.

So, Howie.  We're sorry, buddy.  But then, again, you did get an ice cream cone, right?

(corresponding song: Don't Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John and M79 by Vampire Weekend)

Reconciliation=Justice

The last few weeks, this topic has been tug tug tugging at my heart.

There are a lot of injustices here. On earth.  A lot of living hells, if you will.

And to say that I have played no part in it would be to be completely in denial.  I've served my unfair share of them.  Potty mouth.  Bitterness.  Unforgiveness. Flat out rage. Pride. Overflowing tongue.  You name it, in some way shape or form, I'm sure I have taken some sort of part.  And, unfortunately, at times still do.

I obviously say this not from a standpoint of being proud of myself but from a standpoint of humanity. Of recognizing the flaws that not only the Fall-- but my own choices have contributed to.  It is reality.

And, yet, somehow there are still times where in my streak of vengeance, I believe that someone else "deserves what they get".  Oh, that my heart would be so callused.

This really only shows a place in my heart that is yet to be softened, that has yet to let forgiveness fill, that has yet to accept this Grace that has been purchased for me.

I understand that the human condition calls for justice.  When someone steals something from us, or hurts us, or judges us, it is in no way fun.  And yet, I have found the utmost freedom in turning my want for justice into a cry for reconciliation.  I have found that when I turn in my hurts to be acknowledged and justifed by the One who has already felt them, I receive the recognition that that particular event was wrong.  And after that is acknowledged, I have the opportunity to forgive.

Forgiveness is an act of faith.  It is the higher road.  It is the key to freedom, to happiness, to joy.  And it does not negate that a situation was hurtful or painful or flat out wrong.  But what it does is serve justice. The justice we long for, for wrongs to be made right.  Because in all reality, hitting someone back with the same hurt they hurled at us is not justice.  It may be retaliation, but it is not justice.

But watching someone's life transform because you did your part in forgiveness.  That is justice.  Reconciliation is justice.  Restoration is justice.

Jesus did not have to forgive anyone.  He chose to.  He bore the burden.  He died the death.  And in one swift moment, rose to tell about it.  Sharing His experience with anyone who would recognize Him.

Oh, that we would have hearts to recognize Him.

Not to hold on to our viewpoints, or to our rights, or to our opinions.  But that we would hold onto the hope of Reconciliation.  Of justice washing us clean.  Of forgiveness washing us like a flood.

I pray that I would recognize the debt that has been paid for me, so that I may extend the same Grace to another person who has not seen.

This is Love.

(corresponding song: Going Home by Josh Garrels)