Lent is an interesting season. It's the surreal mix of mourning and forthcoming joy. This year, Lent has seemed more vivid to me than in any year's past. I think it's because I'm on the brink of some major life changes. I recently read a status update that stated that traditionally Lent isn't practiced on Sundays. At the time, I thought "Well, that seems strange." Tonight, I see why.
The last few weeks I've seen God break through so many different areas with faith, and hope, and love. I've seen sign after sign that the Easter celebration is just around the corner. Resurrection Life is just around the corner. In many ways, over the past year as I've contemplated the finished work of the Cross (you know, what He already did 2000 years ago), I've come to a new place in my belief system where I've realized Easter isn't just coming. Easter is already here. He already did it. He already raised His life--and my life--from the dead.
And now, for me, it's just coming into fullness --because I'm seeing it for the first time with brand new eyes.
It's this beautiful place where what already happened that Easter Sunday 2000 years ago meets my present situation. Make no mistake, it's been happening my whole life. I just haven't "seen" it like this before. And, so, this year--even though there has been some mourning, I just can't keep my heart and eyes off Easter. And this is where I realized those Sunday breaks come in during the Lent season. It reminds me of "On the seventh day, He rested and declared that 'It was good'." It's where He so graciously deposits tangible evidence that the mourning has lead to joy. It's a sign, if you will. A deposit.
It's says: "Easter is coming, Easter is here."
It's kind of like wearing sunglasses at night.
I wear my sunglasses at night
so I can
so I can
Watch you weave then breath your story lines.
And I wear my sunglasses at night
so I can
so I can
Keep track of the visions in my eyes.
Pretty profound, isn't it? The way He's always speaking to us?
Tonight, Ella woke up either because she bonked her head on the side of her bed or because she had a bad dream. I'm not really sure which. This lead to me scurrying my big, pregnant belly into bed with her (the advantages of a "big girl" bed). I laid next to her as she quickly fell back asleep. I attempted to escape once, but she woke up immediately, making it clear that she wanted me to stay. So, I got back into her bed and laid there...wide awake. I had an emotionally taxing day yesterday, so I ended up going to bed at 7:30. By this time, it was 3:30am. After eight hours of sleep, I was awake.
And just where God wanted me.
I was somewhat hoping that my "pregnant awake" nights were coming to an end, afterall, I had been sleeping through the night again for over a week. Until now. I knew what this meant. So, I cuddled up next to Ella, listening to her little snore, and I prayed.
And as usual, He made me cry. It was like He so graciously and gently tapped me on the shoulder and said "Time to release that pain, that longsuffering. Easter is coming."
In my short 30 years, I realized I've lived through quite a bit of pain. Longsuffering has been a fruit of the spirit that I have grown to know very well. In certain ways, it is a beloved gift. It has become a friend and has given me the courage to never give up. And yet, it is a bittersweet gift. At times, that friend can want to stay around just a little too long. You know, over stay his welcome. After I thanked him for his sweet ministry to me, I gently let him out the door so I could meet a new friend. And in came his partner, Joy. The wonderful thing about those who have known longsuffering is that, if they allow it, they can also experience the deepest of joy. Even in the small things.
People often ask me how I can get so excited over a Cadbury creme egg. Um, how couldn't you? It tastes SO good. I relish every-single-bite. I soak it in. That creamy center and chocolately goodness. All of it. I taste it all--no matter how big or how small. If it's mine, I'm taking it. So, when it comes to Jesus--and His Resurrection, well, it's just the same thing. I can barely worship sitting still. Nope, that's me--over in the corner, leaping around like a lame person who just got healed. Again.
And that's how I feel about Joy. About Easter. It means that Longsuffering has come, done it's work, and now there is a reward. Unstoppable Joy. It's not fickle, it's deep in my guts. It radiates. It's like a roller coaster ride at Disneyworld. Arms up. Screaming Loud. Stomach coming up through your throat as you excitedly plummet down that hill from the long climb.
It reminds me of a dream I had about 5 or 6 years ago. I was in the front seat of a white rollercoaster. It ticked, ticked, ticked all the way up this huge hill. On my right, there was a blinking sign that said "I Love NY". I already had my arms up, ready for the ride.
Well, just the other day, as I heard this song on the radio, I pulled into Smoothie King. I was desperate for some fruit. I wanted some Easter now. I stepped out of the car just as the car next to me pulled into it's spot. I started to walk in, and a young guy, with a bright green shirt that said NYC on the front, held open the door, smiled, and said "After you."
If you've been reading my blog for any amount of time, you know that for me, New York is a promise of Easter for me. In and of itself, it's just a great city. But connected to it for me, is destiny. It shows up at just the right time in just the right ways. It's a star, a sign, pointing me to where Jesus is. Because, well, Jesus loves NY, too. In fact, I'm pretty sure He came up with that slogan.
And the thing is, He knew while He was creating me that my DNA would mix perfectly with that city's--in order to make something great. What exactly is it? I'm not totally sure yet. I have some ideas but, really, I'm just going along for the ride. Arms up. Life surrendered. Stepping into what He has called me to be.
What is that for you? Is it a dream job, or a new baby, a new house, or reconciliation of some sort? Does your body need healed or your heart need awakened? He wants to give you your longing. He put it there in the first place. It's your sign, leading you toward the Freedom that is Him. The joy--after the cross--Easter.
Be blessed with Joy today as He moves you more toward Resurrection Life. (He's got the Moves like Jagger, you know.)
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Happy 2nd Birthday, Ella!
Two years ago this morning, I was attempting to walk down the hall of the maternity wing of Vanderbilt University Medical Center--hoping that the God of all gods would speed up my labor. I needed this baby outside of my body.
And, He came through. 10:53 am happened. And instead of pushing with pain, I laughed that baby girl out. Laughed. Grabbing ahold of the my golden chariot, not a dry eye in the room, the glory of God in our midst, we laughed--then pushed--then laughed--then cried happy tears.
And she was here.
Since then, she has brought more challenge and more joy than we have ever known. I had no idea that I could live without having sleep for months. I didn't know that I could change poopy diapers with such admiration--not to mention pump milk out of my body for over a year and a half. The word sacrifice turned to the word priviledge. Serving became a delight. Love became almost too good to handle.
Our Ella Junebug.
Our little prophetic wonder. Intentional in all she does and yet she's just going with the Flow. Her discernment is keen, her wisdom already sharp, her personality proactive, her spirit sweet and sensitive. Her giggles loud, her voice strong, she even wins over critics by her curly, golden locks and pure heart.
Oh, we love her.
We spent her special day eating birthday cake, skipping naptime and yet sharing precious cuddle time, shopping at Hobby Lobby (Well, Ella didn't shop--but she did wave around three huge, neon pink and green feathers throughout the entire store), eating her favorite spinach ravioli dinner, and buying her first fish.
She proudly dawned her first big girl, birthday necklace---a silver chain with charms that say "I Love NY". And heck, we bought one for Mama and baby sister, too. We're in this love affair of NY together. Daddy didn't get one, but he flew over NYC the same day we bought them--and he waved to the City. Works for me.
And because she was close to exhausted by the time we came home with her birthday fish (no nap--remember?), she decided she'd name him tomorrow. A blue and green crowntail betta....red on his flowing tail. He's a looker.
Happy, Happy Birthday, Ella June! Way to reach 2 with so much wonder, grace, and divine cuteness! Always remember the rich legacy of those who have loved you and laid their lives down for you, be kind to everyone you meet, and forever live in the knowledge of the goodness of God. There is no limit to how far you can go!
A few birthday pictures.....
And, He came through. 10:53 am happened. And instead of pushing with pain, I laughed that baby girl out. Laughed. Grabbing ahold of the my golden chariot, not a dry eye in the room, the glory of God in our midst, we laughed--then pushed--then laughed--then cried happy tears.
And she was here.
Since then, she has brought more challenge and more joy than we have ever known. I had no idea that I could live without having sleep for months. I didn't know that I could change poopy diapers with such admiration--not to mention pump milk out of my body for over a year and a half. The word sacrifice turned to the word priviledge. Serving became a delight. Love became almost too good to handle.
Our Ella Junebug.
Our little prophetic wonder. Intentional in all she does and yet she's just going with the Flow. Her discernment is keen, her wisdom already sharp, her personality proactive, her spirit sweet and sensitive. Her giggles loud, her voice strong, she even wins over critics by her curly, golden locks and pure heart.
Oh, we love her.
We spent her special day eating birthday cake, skipping naptime and yet sharing precious cuddle time, shopping at Hobby Lobby (Well, Ella didn't shop--but she did wave around three huge, neon pink and green feathers throughout the entire store), eating her favorite spinach ravioli dinner, and buying her first fish.
She proudly dawned her first big girl, birthday necklace---a silver chain with charms that say "I Love NY". And heck, we bought one for Mama and baby sister, too. We're in this love affair of NY together. Daddy didn't get one, but he flew over NYC the same day we bought them--and he waved to the City. Works for me.
And because she was close to exhausted by the time we came home with her birthday fish (no nap--remember?), she decided she'd name him tomorrow. A blue and green crowntail betta....red on his flowing tail. He's a looker.
Happy, Happy Birthday, Ella June! Way to reach 2 with so much wonder, grace, and divine cuteness! Always remember the rich legacy of those who have loved you and laid their lives down for you, be kind to everyone you meet, and forever live in the knowledge of the goodness of God. There is no limit to how far you can go!
A few birthday pictures.....
Friday, February 17, 2012
The Red List.
I've started accumulating a list. It's called the Red List. It started Wednesday as I was working up a sweat mopping our hardwood floors. To me, wood speaks of humility and of strength. Jesus was a humble man, yet strong in identity, his Father's son. He was a wood-worker. And as my nose beaded up with little sweat bubbles, I cleaned and polished the place that my family "walks" every single day (who says being a house wife is meaningless and easy? Sheesh!).
As I mopped, I opened my ears. I asked God about what I could do to release all those "offenses" I talked about the other day. I'll be honest, I'm usually more on the grace side than I am on the grudge side. I typically will forgive someone way before they even apologize--and I've often even rationalized a person's behavior toward me even if it was wrong. Revelation is a gift. And I tend to be gracefully gifted to see from time to time, but sometimes to my own detriment. Allowing a person extra grace without much truth. But as my little voice has started to rise, I've been able to still stand up for myself while also extending love and grace at the same time. It's a tricky equation, but it feels like it's starting to balance it's way out in me.
And yet, even though I can lean toward forgiveness naturally, there are still a few areas where the dagger is deep...or it's repetitive. And that's where any trace of offense in my soul wants to linger. The only place it can keep its grip--and that's what He's currently highlighting. Because you know what? 2012 is a NEW year. And He sure did work hard that day on Skull Hill in order to keep me free and pure from anything that hinders Love. Anything that I am holding onto that isn't of Him, is of my own grabbing.
My biggest offense usually takes its place by what I mentioned in my last blog. Someone trying to downplay my little/BIG voice. For a long time, I tried to scream over people like that. Like "HEY! What do you think you're doing?!! I can't talk any LOUDER! So, I'll get scrappy...like a little blond alleycat." Fiesty and determined and a little bit mean. When that didn't work out very well, I decided to try some other options. It included taking risks, following my heart, building my spirit, and daring to live my dreams. It didn't matter what anyone else had to say, I was going to be me--whether anyone acknowledged it, saw it or not, I didn't care. I was just happy to finally start being free to be me without the hindrance of anyone else's opinion about it.
And oh boy, that came in a lot of different forms. I've held some funny and CRAZY jobs, moved across the country to unknown destinations, and now just may be putting my house up for sale 3 months before I'm having my second baby. I may be crazy, but I am wildly and adventurously living in the freedom of who He has called me to be. His.
And this reminds me of a funny story. It doesn't involve me but my hubby--similar situation though. My huh-knee might not be petite or blond, but people with "small man" complex (as my friend so hilariously called it!) can try to cut off his voice when they get threatened by his aura of authority, wisdom, and smarts. He is in fact his namesake, David, of the Bible--perhaps young--but wise and devoted enough to be King.
Anyhow, enough of my bragging! One Sunday morning, my huh-knee was outside in his garden. He loves working the land, growing plentiful food for his family to eat, caring for the Earth, watching Life happen. A neighbor of ours (who Howie ALWAYS obnoxiously barks at, mind you) comes over to David asking if he was going to church that morning. Tennessee, ya'll--Bible Belt country. David replied, "I'm having church right here." This neighbor then starts to belittle David's spirituality asking if he can mentor him and share the Bible with him. David replies, "I'm already a Christian, but thanks." And it continues for a few more minutes until David comes in the house giggling over one of the more awkward neighborly conversations he's ever had.
Well, it just so happens that two nights ago, I wake up again in the middle of the night. This time attempting to enjoy what I think will be a serene and beautiful experience with God, you know, comparable to my Valentine's Day present. Well, out of nowhere, at 12:22am, a loud horn starts blaring through the neighborhood. David wakes up, I see Ella drowsily wake up in her video monitor, Howie's up....we're all up. "What is that? It happened yesterday during Ella's nap, too" I say to David. David looks out the window to see this neighbor in his car, while the alarm is waking up the whole neighborhood, sitting in the driver's seat panicking----desperately pounding on his steering wheel. Trying to get the noise to stop.
What a picture.
We couldn't help but laugh. And then in that laughing and the release of any frustration toward him, we could graciously pray for him. Oh, Jesus, help-this-guy-out. He just needs a voice, too. He needs someone to graciously pull the Hope out of him. Someone to acknowledge that he has a purpose and has something to say--without all that static and horn blaring.
And, so, this is what I'm calling the Red List, the Grace List--contrary to the Black List. I'm letting God bring those people to my mind. The ones in whom I have carried offense--for this or for that. And even if they were wrong, I'm asking for ways I can honor their voice. How can I speak love to them where they have been hurt? How can I pull the Hope out of them the way others did for me? It doesn't mean I let them continue to hurt me, it just means I speak back in love with authority. Because real authority is Love. And those who know Love can CHANGE THE WORLD.
May you spread love in all the unexpected and needed places today.
Happy Friday, World Changers!!!
Gracious words are like honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and healing to the bones. Proverbs 16:24
As I mopped, I opened my ears. I asked God about what I could do to release all those "offenses" I talked about the other day. I'll be honest, I'm usually more on the grace side than I am on the grudge side. I typically will forgive someone way before they even apologize--and I've often even rationalized a person's behavior toward me even if it was wrong. Revelation is a gift. And I tend to be gracefully gifted to see from time to time, but sometimes to my own detriment. Allowing a person extra grace without much truth. But as my little voice has started to rise, I've been able to still stand up for myself while also extending love and grace at the same time. It's a tricky equation, but it feels like it's starting to balance it's way out in me.
And yet, even though I can lean toward forgiveness naturally, there are still a few areas where the dagger is deep...or it's repetitive. And that's where any trace of offense in my soul wants to linger. The only place it can keep its grip--and that's what He's currently highlighting. Because you know what? 2012 is a NEW year. And He sure did work hard that day on Skull Hill in order to keep me free and pure from anything that hinders Love. Anything that I am holding onto that isn't of Him, is of my own grabbing.
My biggest offense usually takes its place by what I mentioned in my last blog. Someone trying to downplay my little/BIG voice. For a long time, I tried to scream over people like that. Like "HEY! What do you think you're doing?!! I can't talk any LOUDER! So, I'll get scrappy...like a little blond alleycat." Fiesty and determined and a little bit mean. When that didn't work out very well, I decided to try some other options. It included taking risks, following my heart, building my spirit, and daring to live my dreams. It didn't matter what anyone else had to say, I was going to be me--whether anyone acknowledged it, saw it or not, I didn't care. I was just happy to finally start being free to be me without the hindrance of anyone else's opinion about it.
And oh boy, that came in a lot of different forms. I've held some funny and CRAZY jobs, moved across the country to unknown destinations, and now just may be putting my house up for sale 3 months before I'm having my second baby. I may be crazy, but I am wildly and adventurously living in the freedom of who He has called me to be. His.
And this reminds me of a funny story. It doesn't involve me but my hubby--similar situation though. My huh-knee might not be petite or blond, but people with "small man" complex (as my friend so hilariously called it!) can try to cut off his voice when they get threatened by his aura of authority, wisdom, and smarts. He is in fact his namesake, David, of the Bible--perhaps young--but wise and devoted enough to be King.
Anyhow, enough of my bragging! One Sunday morning, my huh-knee was outside in his garden. He loves working the land, growing plentiful food for his family to eat, caring for the Earth, watching Life happen. A neighbor of ours (who Howie ALWAYS obnoxiously barks at, mind you) comes over to David asking if he was going to church that morning. Tennessee, ya'll--Bible Belt country. David replied, "I'm having church right here." This neighbor then starts to belittle David's spirituality asking if he can mentor him and share the Bible with him. David replies, "I'm already a Christian, but thanks." And it continues for a few more minutes until David comes in the house giggling over one of the more awkward neighborly conversations he's ever had.
Well, it just so happens that two nights ago, I wake up again in the middle of the night. This time attempting to enjoy what I think will be a serene and beautiful experience with God, you know, comparable to my Valentine's Day present. Well, out of nowhere, at 12:22am, a loud horn starts blaring through the neighborhood. David wakes up, I see Ella drowsily wake up in her video monitor, Howie's up....we're all up. "What is that? It happened yesterday during Ella's nap, too" I say to David. David looks out the window to see this neighbor in his car, while the alarm is waking up the whole neighborhood, sitting in the driver's seat panicking----desperately pounding on his steering wheel. Trying to get the noise to stop.
What a picture.
We couldn't help but laugh. And then in that laughing and the release of any frustration toward him, we could graciously pray for him. Oh, Jesus, help-this-guy-out. He just needs a voice, too. He needs someone to graciously pull the Hope out of him. Someone to acknowledge that he has a purpose and has something to say--without all that static and horn blaring.
And, so, this is what I'm calling the Red List, the Grace List--contrary to the Black List. I'm letting God bring those people to my mind. The ones in whom I have carried offense--for this or for that. And even if they were wrong, I'm asking for ways I can honor their voice. How can I speak love to them where they have been hurt? How can I pull the Hope out of them the way others did for me? It doesn't mean I let them continue to hurt me, it just means I speak back in love with authority. Because real authority is Love. And those who know Love can CHANGE THE WORLD.
May you spread love in all the unexpected and needed places today.
Happy Friday, World Changers!!!
Gracious words are like honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and healing to the bones. Proverbs 16:24
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Offense...
I had a long day yesterday. It was a really good and productive and long day, so when my head hit the pillow, I couldn't wait for some really great sleep. I put a few drops of Lavender essential oil on my neck, and I was out. And then, around midnight, I woke up. The big red numbers on my clock said:
12:22
I could tell I was waking from some sort of dream or conversation in my head, and when I looked at the clock, I thought to myself, "Why the heck am I awake? I'm not even tired at all." And then you know what happened?
I got offended.
I tossed and turned until I finally heard, "Maybe I've woken you up on purpose?"
He's been doing that a lot lately. God. Messing with my slumber. Not to mention that the little/big ball of love inside also likes to wake me and force me up for a midnight "potty break". So, I got up. I drank some water, did my business, and tried to fall back asleep--never even asking Him any further questions...and yet my mind couldn't stop thinking. One thing after another, just thinking thinking thinking.
And then, out of my stupor, I thought "What the heck? This is so lame. Go back to bed!"
Only to toss and turn some more, complaining to God about how I wanted to fall asleep. And then it dawned on me, 12:22. The past few weeks I've been running into 12:22 over and over again (in addition to 44 of course!), and I kept asking God what it meant. This weekend, a friend shared a message that I so needed to hear. And the scripture verse he read? Ezekial 12:22. So I finally realized at this exact moment in the middle of the night that God had been so sweetly following me around with a promise. And now, a few days later, I wake up at 12:22--and you know what my first reaction is?
"God, I want to go back to bed. Help me go back to bed. I'm so offended that you would wake me up at this hour. Don't you know I'm pregnant and have a toddler? Whine, whine, whine. I'm so offended."
And then He so tenderly said, "How about you read it? Ezekial 12:22? In fact, read the whole chapter."
"Oh, I see where this is going....You woke me up on purpose...oops...ok."
EZEKIAL 12 (If you don't want to read it all, you can capture the theme by verses 17-26)
And the tears rolled as the bright light from my smart phone shined truth into my very own, tired heart--in the middle of the night.
After I read it, I was wide awake. Not enough to be active but just enough to be restful while awake. This friend of ours who spoke this scripture over the weekend, well he also spoke over Ella and our other kiddos to be before they were born--6 years ago. I've written before about how I received word after word about being pregnant--when at the time I had no intention of being pregnant. Well, this friend, he pretty much started that ball rolling. He called the Hope out of me before I even knew it existed, telling me "you need to get started on those art projects. You're pregnant, and you need to give birth. And you know what? Some of those dreams you have are also going to be on your children--and that's how you're going to see them accomplished. Like dancing, dancing, dancing. Your house is gonna be a lot of fun." I can remember the words so distinctly---even the tone in which he said each phrase. The sound still rings in my ears. It was God speaking through him, taking me from exile to my promised land. And is God not doing that exact thing right now? Dancing and a fun house--remember? He's got the Moves Like Jagger? :)
So, I got up, and I went into Ella's room--my 1st born, who was born on 2/22. Yes, God's that detailed. I pulled her sweetly sleeping body up to my chest and covered her with a blanket from her Nonny and Poppa. We lounged in the chair together, our chests rising and falling in the same breathing pattern all the while the little one inside kicked. And our spirits danced with one another. A breath here, a kick there, a rest here, a snore there--her sweet countenance fully in rest as she breathed in the Lavender I had put on my neck just hours earlier.
It was beautiful.
So I stayed there for over an hour, soaking it all in. Eventually, Ella woke up, and we just laid there together making sweet eyes at each other. Her pacifier held in position by her sweet smile, her curls swept across her forehead, and her baby smell just wafting over me. "Thank you, God, for waking me up. Thank you, God, for giving me this moment. I'm sorry I was so rude and unaware."
It made me think about how many other times in my life I have been offended. At God. At other people. Offense is really crippling, isn't it? It's a breeding ground for bitterness, unforgiveness, and resentment. It cuts off love. And here we are on Valentine's Day, when love is the offering of the day, and I have a choice on if I want to accept it or not. God was my Valentine last night; in fact, He always is. He's always seeking after ways to love me and to express Himself to me. Sometimes I don't like it at first, but when I surrender and listen, He's always right. And always good.
And other people? Oh, yes. They are not God and so can hurtfully offend and berate and belittle...whether on purpose or not. In fact, just the other day, I had someone attempt to belittle me. And as a "cute little blond thing", I'm somewhat used to this--though it's still not necessarily easy. People often stereotype me and assume I don't have much to say. We all have those people in our lives who try to steal our voice--and sometimes purposefully. But I've noticed that my little voice is often used as a "foolish thing to confound the wise" (1 Corinthians 1:27). So when someone starts to belittle me, I now know not to get bitter. In fact, I'm actually right where I belong. Hidden inside this little voice is the wisdom of an 80 year old woman with the discernment of a greyhawk. And if I am living in Grace, this ends up working itself out in love through our conversation. I say this because I only understand giving Grace as much as I've received of it--which is the result of long journey of being brought out of exile, with the help of generational blessings and spiritual mamas and papas who were gracious enough to pull the Hope out of me early--so that I didn't have to live under slavery as long as they did. And yet, there are days I forget about grace, and I still get offended. Oh, can I get offended. I may get offended way less than before, but I still get offended. And, so, it's in those times that I try to remember what it was like when I had no voice--when I woundedly felt the need to belittle someone else. Or tear down someone's character with my discernment. Yikes. Not nice. And, yet, it just goes to show that we've all been on both ends of the coin. And the only way to change that? Love past an offense.
You can be angry in the moment, but graciously deal with it, remembering you've done it, too.
Let it go.
Be filled with Love.
And then give it out.
It's the only way change happens.
As I'm transitioning into 2012, I'm letting go. Releasing my harboring offenses. Allowing my walls to be knocked down and instead be filled with the Grace of God. And as that happens, I can't wait to be an available vessel to pour it back out. Watching my dreams come true now and every vision come to pass (as it says in Ezekial).
Wow. He is good---and faithful.
Happy Valentine's Day.
(If you are interested in watching our friend's message about Ezekial 12, you can see it HERE. He starts speaking around 10 minutes. I'm not sure how long it will be webstreamed, but it's really refreshing and encouraging if you have the time now!)
12:22
I could tell I was waking from some sort of dream or conversation in my head, and when I looked at the clock, I thought to myself, "Why the heck am I awake? I'm not even tired at all." And then you know what happened?
I got offended.
I tossed and turned until I finally heard, "Maybe I've woken you up on purpose?"
He's been doing that a lot lately. God. Messing with my slumber. Not to mention that the little/big ball of love inside also likes to wake me and force me up for a midnight "potty break". So, I got up. I drank some water, did my business, and tried to fall back asleep--never even asking Him any further questions...and yet my mind couldn't stop thinking. One thing after another, just thinking thinking thinking.
And then, out of my stupor, I thought "What the heck? This is so lame. Go back to bed!"
Only to toss and turn some more, complaining to God about how I wanted to fall asleep. And then it dawned on me, 12:22. The past few weeks I've been running into 12:22 over and over again (in addition to 44 of course!), and I kept asking God what it meant. This weekend, a friend shared a message that I so needed to hear. And the scripture verse he read? Ezekial 12:22. So I finally realized at this exact moment in the middle of the night that God had been so sweetly following me around with a promise. And now, a few days later, I wake up at 12:22--and you know what my first reaction is?
"God, I want to go back to bed. Help me go back to bed. I'm so offended that you would wake me up at this hour. Don't you know I'm pregnant and have a toddler? Whine, whine, whine. I'm so offended."
And then He so tenderly said, "How about you read it? Ezekial 12:22? In fact, read the whole chapter."
"Oh, I see where this is going....You woke me up on purpose...oops...ok."
EZEKIAL 12 (If you don't want to read it all, you can capture the theme by verses 17-26)
And the tears rolled as the bright light from my smart phone shined truth into my very own, tired heart--in the middle of the night.
After I read it, I was wide awake. Not enough to be active but just enough to be restful while awake. This friend of ours who spoke this scripture over the weekend, well he also spoke over Ella and our other kiddos to be before they were born--6 years ago. I've written before about how I received word after word about being pregnant--when at the time I had no intention of being pregnant. Well, this friend, he pretty much started that ball rolling. He called the Hope out of me before I even knew it existed, telling me "you need to get started on those art projects. You're pregnant, and you need to give birth. And you know what? Some of those dreams you have are also going to be on your children--and that's how you're going to see them accomplished. Like dancing, dancing, dancing. Your house is gonna be a lot of fun." I can remember the words so distinctly---even the tone in which he said each phrase. The sound still rings in my ears. It was God speaking through him, taking me from exile to my promised land. And is God not doing that exact thing right now? Dancing and a fun house--remember? He's got the Moves Like Jagger? :)
So, I got up, and I went into Ella's room--my 1st born, who was born on 2/22. Yes, God's that detailed. I pulled her sweetly sleeping body up to my chest and covered her with a blanket from her Nonny and Poppa. We lounged in the chair together, our chests rising and falling in the same breathing pattern all the while the little one inside kicked. And our spirits danced with one another. A breath here, a kick there, a rest here, a snore there--her sweet countenance fully in rest as she breathed in the Lavender I had put on my neck just hours earlier.
It was beautiful.
So I stayed there for over an hour, soaking it all in. Eventually, Ella woke up, and we just laid there together making sweet eyes at each other. Her pacifier held in position by her sweet smile, her curls swept across her forehead, and her baby smell just wafting over me. "Thank you, God, for waking me up. Thank you, God, for giving me this moment. I'm sorry I was so rude and unaware."
It made me think about how many other times in my life I have been offended. At God. At other people. Offense is really crippling, isn't it? It's a breeding ground for bitterness, unforgiveness, and resentment. It cuts off love. And here we are on Valentine's Day, when love is the offering of the day, and I have a choice on if I want to accept it or not. God was my Valentine last night; in fact, He always is. He's always seeking after ways to love me and to express Himself to me. Sometimes I don't like it at first, but when I surrender and listen, He's always right. And always good.
And other people? Oh, yes. They are not God and so can hurtfully offend and berate and belittle...whether on purpose or not. In fact, just the other day, I had someone attempt to belittle me. And as a "cute little blond thing", I'm somewhat used to this--though it's still not necessarily easy. People often stereotype me and assume I don't have much to say. We all have those people in our lives who try to steal our voice--and sometimes purposefully. But I've noticed that my little voice is often used as a "foolish thing to confound the wise" (1 Corinthians 1:27). So when someone starts to belittle me, I now know not to get bitter. In fact, I'm actually right where I belong. Hidden inside this little voice is the wisdom of an 80 year old woman with the discernment of a greyhawk. And if I am living in Grace, this ends up working itself out in love through our conversation. I say this because I only understand giving Grace as much as I've received of it--which is the result of long journey of being brought out of exile, with the help of generational blessings and spiritual mamas and papas who were gracious enough to pull the Hope out of me early--so that I didn't have to live under slavery as long as they did. And yet, there are days I forget about grace, and I still get offended. Oh, can I get offended. I may get offended way less than before, but I still get offended. And, so, it's in those times that I try to remember what it was like when I had no voice--when I woundedly felt the need to belittle someone else. Or tear down someone's character with my discernment. Yikes. Not nice. And, yet, it just goes to show that we've all been on both ends of the coin. And the only way to change that? Love past an offense.
You can be angry in the moment, but graciously deal with it, remembering you've done it, too.
Let it go.
Be filled with Love.
And then give it out.
It's the only way change happens.
As I'm transitioning into 2012, I'm letting go. Releasing my harboring offenses. Allowing my walls to be knocked down and instead be filled with the Grace of God. And as that happens, I can't wait to be an available vessel to pour it back out. Watching my dreams come true now and every vision come to pass (as it says in Ezekial).
Wow. He is good---and faithful.
Happy Valentine's Day.
(If you are interested in watching our friend's message about Ezekial 12, you can see it HERE. He starts speaking around 10 minutes. I'm not sure how long it will be webstreamed, but it's really refreshing and encouraging if you have the time now!)
Friday, February 10, 2012
Endurance...and Refreshment.
Just when I need it, I'll hear my little birdie friend singing to me from outside. When David called a few days ago to "hear my voice", that little bird was whistling me a tune. And yesterday, as I soaked in a hot bath again, he sang. And really early this morning, when letting Howie outside, there he was.
He is such a sweet reminder to me about refreshment. I find that when I tend to go through a season that feels like intense pruning, I also need to be intentional about being refreshed throughout the process. So, I try to look for ways to build up my spirit in the midst of God so graciously tearing down my walls, the lies I've believed, and my inferior mindsets. It can be easy to think that God is punishing us or that there is so much "bad" in us when we go through pruning, but I've actually come to a place where I genuinely love it. As a parent, it is so much easier to look at discipline in a different light. Of course we want the best for Ella--and that is why she is disciplined. I hate when she cries or when she doesn't understand at first, but as long as she is disciplined with a balance of grace and truth, it is so absolutely fun and rewarding to see her be obedient the next time around (ok, sometimes it takes a few times). She feels secure, loved, and nurtured--she knows she's safe. And that makes her free to explore, and to create, and to be.
And so it is with God and me. Right now. And as I've talked with some of you, so it seems with God and you. Right now.
As my old mindsets crumble, it's easy to feel a sense of loss. Unfortunately, many of those things we hold onto for security become "friends". And when they leave, it's understandable that we may feel a little lost or sad or empty.
And that's when my birdie friend always seems to show up. Reminding me to be refreshed and to fill in the old, empty spot with something new and refreshing.
It can take many different shapes depending on the day. For me, I have both practical and spiritual ways to nourish myself. Practically, I've been writing a lot, planning the new babe's nursery (with Ella's help), scouring Pinterest (that in itself is SO refreshing and beautiful!), and taking Ella outside to play since the weather has been great! These small activities refresh me so much and then give me endurance for the rest of the transitioning journey.
Spiritually, I have a whole other variety of nourishing "exercises" that I vary between. In the Bible, David was called a "Man After God's Heart", and he very much knew pain and heartache--as well as tremendous victory. The Psalms are such beautiful writings depicted from his journey. He's brutally honest, releases his emotions, and then he is said to "encourage himself in the Lord". I think that's so important. If we stop at releasing our emotions or getting stuck in our emotions, we don't really do ourselves any good. We need to be filled back up.
When I notice myself needing to be filled up, I tend to "soak" in worship music, read the Bible (especially Romans) or a great spiritual biography, and pray. I realize many Christians have different theological views on the more "supernatural" or "charismatic" gifts (and for good reason--there has been a lot of distortion of those gifts), but I definitely lean toward being refreshed in my spirit by praying in tongues and through other miraculous encounters. I grew up in a very safe and nurturing environment where these gifts and experiences were expressed with great care, nurture, integrity, and also power--so for me, being filled up directly in my spirit is one of the easiest and intimate ways for me to experience God (not to mention the Bible is full of accounts in which God supernaturally met His people--it's fascinating!). In my own life, I was born with severely underdeveloped hip joints, and had it not been because of the faith of my mother and her Christian community, I very well would have been in a wheelchair or had a severe limp for the rest of my life (so the doctors say). But because she did not choose self-pity---and instead chose to "encourage herself in the Lord" even in the midst of pruning and hardship, God had something else to say and those hip joints radically grew in. I walk just fine....and in fact, I love to dance and leap and twirl, too.
And I think that God is just waiting to pour out blessings and miracles and healing for a lot of people. (That's what the Bible says anyway!)
So, depending on where you are at in your spiritual journey or what you may believe, there is room for refreshment. God wants to pour strength into you--even when you forget that He does. And as I remember that, I've been learning how to "encourage myself in the Lord" during my refinement process. Relishing in the people and activities I enjoy, going on dates with my hubby, running with Ella, feeling my new babe kick like crazy, and laughing as Howie steals my seat on the couch. And much, more more...
Not to mention--we've made it to Friday!! So, be refreshed this weekend as you relish in your blessings and as the beautiful pearl that you are is being polished by the Creator himself.......
He's about to show off His goodness, folks.
He is such a sweet reminder to me about refreshment. I find that when I tend to go through a season that feels like intense pruning, I also need to be intentional about being refreshed throughout the process. So, I try to look for ways to build up my spirit in the midst of God so graciously tearing down my walls, the lies I've believed, and my inferior mindsets. It can be easy to think that God is punishing us or that there is so much "bad" in us when we go through pruning, but I've actually come to a place where I genuinely love it. As a parent, it is so much easier to look at discipline in a different light. Of course we want the best for Ella--and that is why she is disciplined. I hate when she cries or when she doesn't understand at first, but as long as she is disciplined with a balance of grace and truth, it is so absolutely fun and rewarding to see her be obedient the next time around (ok, sometimes it takes a few times). She feels secure, loved, and nurtured--she knows she's safe. And that makes her free to explore, and to create, and to be.
And so it is with God and me. Right now. And as I've talked with some of you, so it seems with God and you. Right now.
As my old mindsets crumble, it's easy to feel a sense of loss. Unfortunately, many of those things we hold onto for security become "friends". And when they leave, it's understandable that we may feel a little lost or sad or empty.
And that's when my birdie friend always seems to show up. Reminding me to be refreshed and to fill in the old, empty spot with something new and refreshing.
It can take many different shapes depending on the day. For me, I have both practical and spiritual ways to nourish myself. Practically, I've been writing a lot, planning the new babe's nursery (with Ella's help), scouring Pinterest (that in itself is SO refreshing and beautiful!), and taking Ella outside to play since the weather has been great! These small activities refresh me so much and then give me endurance for the rest of the transitioning journey.
Spiritually, I have a whole other variety of nourishing "exercises" that I vary between. In the Bible, David was called a "Man After God's Heart", and he very much knew pain and heartache--as well as tremendous victory. The Psalms are such beautiful writings depicted from his journey. He's brutally honest, releases his emotions, and then he is said to "encourage himself in the Lord". I think that's so important. If we stop at releasing our emotions or getting stuck in our emotions, we don't really do ourselves any good. We need to be filled back up.
When I notice myself needing to be filled up, I tend to "soak" in worship music, read the Bible (especially Romans) or a great spiritual biography, and pray. I realize many Christians have different theological views on the more "supernatural" or "charismatic" gifts (and for good reason--there has been a lot of distortion of those gifts), but I definitely lean toward being refreshed in my spirit by praying in tongues and through other miraculous encounters. I grew up in a very safe and nurturing environment where these gifts and experiences were expressed with great care, nurture, integrity, and also power--so for me, being filled up directly in my spirit is one of the easiest and intimate ways for me to experience God (not to mention the Bible is full of accounts in which God supernaturally met His people--it's fascinating!). In my own life, I was born with severely underdeveloped hip joints, and had it not been because of the faith of my mother and her Christian community, I very well would have been in a wheelchair or had a severe limp for the rest of my life (so the doctors say). But because she did not choose self-pity---and instead chose to "encourage herself in the Lord" even in the midst of pruning and hardship, God had something else to say and those hip joints radically grew in. I walk just fine....and in fact, I love to dance and leap and twirl, too.
And I think that God is just waiting to pour out blessings and miracles and healing for a lot of people. (That's what the Bible says anyway!)
So, depending on where you are at in your spiritual journey or what you may believe, there is room for refreshment. God wants to pour strength into you--even when you forget that He does. And as I remember that, I've been learning how to "encourage myself in the Lord" during my refinement process. Relishing in the people and activities I enjoy, going on dates with my hubby, running with Ella, feeling my new babe kick like crazy, and laughing as Howie steals my seat on the couch. And much, more more...
Not to mention--we've made it to Friday!! So, be refreshed this weekend as you relish in your blessings and as the beautiful pearl that you are is being polished by the Creator himself.......
He's about to show off His goodness, folks.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Voice.
I've had an awfully emotional several days over here. I've had moments of peace and then moments of stress. I've taken naps, prayed desperate prayers, and also sang one too many a Veggie Tale song. We're still in the process of deciding whether or not we are to move--as in put our house up for sale. Make no mistake, we are moving over here. We are cleaning and decluttering and fixing up things around this house that desperately needed to get done. If we find out later on this week that physically moving into another house is not an option, we won't feel slighted. In fact, in certain ways, I think we'll feel relieved--because we're tired from all the movin' we're already doing. But you know what? That's what makes this process so interesting and so very much God. He's taken us from a place of complete shock to a place of "Whoa, are You really doing this?" to "I don't know if I can do this" to "Ok, I think we could do this" to "Is this really, God? Should we do this?" to "You know what, I'm happy either way" to "I really wanna do this" to "You know, I won't be disappointed if we don't do this" to "I think I have Hope Deferred Makes the Heart Sick Syndrome".
And that's where I landed today.
I was all emotional and blah blah blah. Crying over little things. Irritable. And then I prayed.
I realized that it's not so much at all about what I really "want". The truth is that at this point I am happy to move into a new, bigger house (and really, there is only one that we have our eye on), and I'm also completely happy to stay in my current house--because after all this cleaning and project-doing, it IS a new house. Aside from my emotional breakdown this morning, I feel really free. I have faced my fears and moved junk outta the way. Trashed stuff that was no good and gave away things that I wasn't using. I already feel like my Hope has come. He has met me in a variety of sweet and unique and personal ways the past few weeks--and in all reality, that is what I was after. Peace.
But this morning, I had gotten myself into a big frenzy over this one thing: Hope Deferred. I hadn't accepted the Hope that was right in front of me. I got caught up in the times where I felt like God didn't show up the way I was hoping for. And how dare He not give me everything I wanted the way I wanted it?! I got scared. I got heart sick.
And, then, I just told Him. "God, I'm heart sick over here--blubbering on this couch cause I'm pregnant and hormonal and my baby hasn't napped well this week. I've been cleaning up this house like a crazy person, and I don't even know if I'm moving anywhere. P.S. Did I mention that I've been having scary dreams?"
Oh boy.
And then, He showed up. He let me cry and feel what I needed to feel. And after that, He helped me move on.
I organized my chore list, and I played with my sweet baby girl. I put her down for a nap (to which she immediately fell asleep--imagine that). I was mopping the hard wood floors when my huh-knee called for a brief chat. And you know what he said? "I just wanted to hear your voice." So then, I got off the phone... and cried a little more.
I headed upstairs to my Voice Over closet, and I decided to send in a few auditions. I used my little voice that He so tenderly wanted to hear, and I said something. And then, I just happened to check my blog to see that my little side career of writing on politics, well, it put my blog over the 10,000 reads mark. I say this not to toot my own horn but to show you that 10,000 times people were interested in what I have to say. 10,000. That means, that all these little emotional rants I go on where I actually feel my feelings instead of stuffing them and then somehow graciously find God in the process, mean something. And you know what? Yours do, too.
You may not write about it, but you may paint about it, or take pictures about it, or teach your kids about it, or care for sick patients about it. No matter which way, that Hope that comes in the midst of the process, it just oozes out of you. And people are dying of Hopelessness. Dying, yet again, of Heart Disease. Of Hope Deferred Makes the Heart Sick Syndrome.
And all the while, He's been right here--just ever-so-patiently waiting for us to feel our feelings and then share our little voices with Him. He's a Dad. And that's the kind of stuff Dad's live for.
And then, if we end up so inclined, He just might ask us to share that voice we've discovered with other people. You might be like me and enjoy big crowds or you might just like to share with a few people you feel close to. Either way, it has a dramatic and an eternal impact. You are doing the part you were designed to do, the part that perfectly fits your personality and desires...the beautiful way in which He created the unique and wonderful you.
And when that Hope just can't help but to ooze out, things start to really move forward. No matter which way that is...and, honestly, it really doesn't even matter. Because any which way with Hope, is awesome.
Happy Hump Day, ya'll!
And that's where I landed today.
I was all emotional and blah blah blah. Crying over little things. Irritable. And then I prayed.
I realized that it's not so much at all about what I really "want". The truth is that at this point I am happy to move into a new, bigger house (and really, there is only one that we have our eye on), and I'm also completely happy to stay in my current house--because after all this cleaning and project-doing, it IS a new house. Aside from my emotional breakdown this morning, I feel really free. I have faced my fears and moved junk outta the way. Trashed stuff that was no good and gave away things that I wasn't using. I already feel like my Hope has come. He has met me in a variety of sweet and unique and personal ways the past few weeks--and in all reality, that is what I was after. Peace.
But this morning, I had gotten myself into a big frenzy over this one thing: Hope Deferred. I hadn't accepted the Hope that was right in front of me. I got caught up in the times where I felt like God didn't show up the way I was hoping for. And how dare He not give me everything I wanted the way I wanted it?! I got scared. I got heart sick.
And, then, I just told Him. "God, I'm heart sick over here--blubbering on this couch cause I'm pregnant and hormonal and my baby hasn't napped well this week. I've been cleaning up this house like a crazy person, and I don't even know if I'm moving anywhere. P.S. Did I mention that I've been having scary dreams?"
Oh boy.
And then, He showed up. He let me cry and feel what I needed to feel. And after that, He helped me move on.
I organized my chore list, and I played with my sweet baby girl. I put her down for a nap (to which she immediately fell asleep--imagine that). I was mopping the hard wood floors when my huh-knee called for a brief chat. And you know what he said? "I just wanted to hear your voice." So then, I got off the phone... and cried a little more.
I headed upstairs to my Voice Over closet, and I decided to send in a few auditions. I used my little voice that He so tenderly wanted to hear, and I said something. And then, I just happened to check my blog to see that my little side career of writing on politics, well, it put my blog over the 10,000 reads mark. I say this not to toot my own horn but to show you that 10,000 times people were interested in what I have to say. 10,000. That means, that all these little emotional rants I go on where I actually feel my feelings instead of stuffing them and then somehow graciously find God in the process, mean something. And you know what? Yours do, too.
You may not write about it, but you may paint about it, or take pictures about it, or teach your kids about it, or care for sick patients about it. No matter which way, that Hope that comes in the midst of the process, it just oozes out of you. And people are dying of Hopelessness. Dying, yet again, of Heart Disease. Of Hope Deferred Makes the Heart Sick Syndrome.
And all the while, He's been right here--just ever-so-patiently waiting for us to feel our feelings and then share our little voices with Him. He's a Dad. And that's the kind of stuff Dad's live for.
And then, if we end up so inclined, He just might ask us to share that voice we've discovered with other people. You might be like me and enjoy big crowds or you might just like to share with a few people you feel close to. Either way, it has a dramatic and an eternal impact. You are doing the part you were designed to do, the part that perfectly fits your personality and desires...the beautiful way in which He created the unique and wonderful you.
And when that Hope just can't help but to ooze out, things start to really move forward. No matter which way that is...and, honestly, it really doesn't even matter. Because any which way with Hope, is awesome.
Happy Hump Day, ya'll!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Politics.
I usually don't write blogs like this. In fact, I usually only go on rants like this in my kitchen-- while sitting on our countertop watching my huh-knee make dinner (David, you are laughing right now because you can picture this scene exactly)...but I can't keep my mouth shut any longer.
Let me start off by saying I love people, I love our country, and I love the freedom this nation was founded upon. That being said, I think we each have our own right to have thoughts and feelings about things, to vote by our convictions and to encourage others to do the same--while also sharing with one another why we think this or that. It's how we learn and how we grow. It's how we become educated people who can make healthy decisions and contribute to the world around us. It's why our country was started.
This being said, I love the idea of government and I think democracy is brilliant--ideally giving each of us the opportunity to have a voice and to make a contribution. But in the midst of the government/politicians getting out of control, I think the people are sometimes just as out of control. In all reality, I think it comes down to this. We need to learn how to communicate effectively. Please, sweet Jesus, teach us how to communicate effectively.
I, of course, have my own thoughts about certain government policies. I am not hardcore right or hardcore left but somewhere in the middle. Not totally in the middle, I definitely do have opinions, but they vary depending on the subject matter. I have strong convictions on certain things while other things may not seem quite as urgent to me. This is not about my political beliefs though, it's bigger than that.
I have at times learned the hard way by divulging my opinion in a sharp and rude manner--believing that without a doubt, I was right. And to be honest, I still hold to many of those convictions. Things have not changed with my beliefs necessarily but just in the way I communicate them. And so this is what I ask of society (as well as my still-learning-self): Can't we all just get along? (someone please laugh)
But really, what I really ask is this. Can't we all just learn how to communicate with one another? I often wonder if most of the problems in our country and in our government are not necessarily based so much in choosing right or left but instead are vested in a lack of understanding of one another. We often use our voices to attack one another, certainly not to honor one another, but to degrade, belittle, and speak over each other. Perhaps politicians wouldn't spend so much time with ads that slander one another if instead they could sit down and have a conversation about why their convictions are what they are--and then listen to the other side. Perhaps I wouldn't get so annoyed at all the Facebook posts that degrade the person I am choosing to vote for if we could all share our opinions in a way that valued each other's point of view. Perhaps I would be more bold to say who I am voting for and why--instead of choosing NOT to simply because I don't want to waste my time being attacked on my VERY own FB page. We can't blame the politicians for back biting when "we the people" do the same. We are not children. We have to be at least 18 to vote, so let's act like it.
If you hold a certain conviction, great! I am so happy for you, really I am. And, please, feel free to share it! But, please, don't use it to stand on your soap box and rip apart anyone with a differing opinion. I'll be honest, I'm embarassed by many of the people who hold the same convictions or even "religion" as I do who have absolutely no idea how to filter their communication or their own agenda. On the other hand, I am also equally horrified by people who may hold opposite convictions who also have no idea how to listen or who act entitled to certain things. I'm not against who you are--I'm against dishonor. And, so, the discrimination of one another just continues. On and on. We just sit around dishonoring one another while getting absolutely nothing accomplished.
It's really exhausting.
And I don't write this blog to just be another person complaining, I'm writing it to hopefully activate change. I think that we can all agree that learning how to honor one another is the best way to communicate. It doesn't mean you let someone push you around or speak over you, it just means that in humility, you can correct someone or excuse yourself. It also means that in humility, you listen to another person's viewpoint--even if it directly opposes yours. It means that even if you don't get your way, you still get to keep your voice, your convictions, and your rights without stealing someone elses or having yours stolen. It would mean peace--and progression. It would mean the next generation could grow up in a country better than what we have now. It might not mean that we always agree with the policies our government holds, but it means that at the very least we can have a say to change it. And, hopefully, it means that we can prosper again because we would actually deserve our name--the UNITED States.
Well, I feel better.
If any of you are interested in my political beliefs and like to have good, stimulating conversation without fighting, I'm happy to talk. I love chatting about all the things we're not "supposed" to talk about in the workplace---Religion, Politics, etc.
And, I won't bite your head off. I promise. ;)
Let me start off by saying I love people, I love our country, and I love the freedom this nation was founded upon. That being said, I think we each have our own right to have thoughts and feelings about things, to vote by our convictions and to encourage others to do the same--while also sharing with one another why we think this or that. It's how we learn and how we grow. It's how we become educated people who can make healthy decisions and contribute to the world around us. It's why our country was started.
This being said, I love the idea of government and I think democracy is brilliant--ideally giving each of us the opportunity to have a voice and to make a contribution. But in the midst of the government/politicians getting out of control, I think the people are sometimes just as out of control. In all reality, I think it comes down to this. We need to learn how to communicate effectively. Please, sweet Jesus, teach us how to communicate effectively.
I, of course, have my own thoughts about certain government policies. I am not hardcore right or hardcore left but somewhere in the middle. Not totally in the middle, I definitely do have opinions, but they vary depending on the subject matter. I have strong convictions on certain things while other things may not seem quite as urgent to me. This is not about my political beliefs though, it's bigger than that.
I have at times learned the hard way by divulging my opinion in a sharp and rude manner--believing that without a doubt, I was right. And to be honest, I still hold to many of those convictions. Things have not changed with my beliefs necessarily but just in the way I communicate them. And so this is what I ask of society (as well as my still-learning-self): Can't we all just get along? (someone please laugh)
But really, what I really ask is this. Can't we all just learn how to communicate with one another? I often wonder if most of the problems in our country and in our government are not necessarily based so much in choosing right or left but instead are vested in a lack of understanding of one another. We often use our voices to attack one another, certainly not to honor one another, but to degrade, belittle, and speak over each other. Perhaps politicians wouldn't spend so much time with ads that slander one another if instead they could sit down and have a conversation about why their convictions are what they are--and then listen to the other side. Perhaps I wouldn't get so annoyed at all the Facebook posts that degrade the person I am choosing to vote for if we could all share our opinions in a way that valued each other's point of view. Perhaps I would be more bold to say who I am voting for and why--instead of choosing NOT to simply because I don't want to waste my time being attacked on my VERY own FB page. We can't blame the politicians for back biting when "we the people" do the same. We are not children. We have to be at least 18 to vote, so let's act like it.
If you hold a certain conviction, great! I am so happy for you, really I am. And, please, feel free to share it! But, please, don't use it to stand on your soap box and rip apart anyone with a differing opinion. I'll be honest, I'm embarassed by many of the people who hold the same convictions or even "religion" as I do who have absolutely no idea how to filter their communication or their own agenda. On the other hand, I am also equally horrified by people who may hold opposite convictions who also have no idea how to listen or who act entitled to certain things. I'm not against who you are--I'm against dishonor. And, so, the discrimination of one another just continues. On and on. We just sit around dishonoring one another while getting absolutely nothing accomplished.
It's really exhausting.
And I don't write this blog to just be another person complaining, I'm writing it to hopefully activate change. I think that we can all agree that learning how to honor one another is the best way to communicate. It doesn't mean you let someone push you around or speak over you, it just means that in humility, you can correct someone or excuse yourself. It also means that in humility, you listen to another person's viewpoint--even if it directly opposes yours. It means that even if you don't get your way, you still get to keep your voice, your convictions, and your rights without stealing someone elses or having yours stolen. It would mean peace--and progression. It would mean the next generation could grow up in a country better than what we have now. It might not mean that we always agree with the policies our government holds, but it means that at the very least we can have a say to change it. And, hopefully, it means that we can prosper again because we would actually deserve our name--the UNITED States.
Well, I feel better.
If any of you are interested in my political beliefs and like to have good, stimulating conversation without fighting, I'm happy to talk. I love chatting about all the things we're not "supposed" to talk about in the workplace---Religion, Politics, etc.
And, I won't bite your head off. I promise. ;)
Monday, February 6, 2012
Home
I have nothing very profound of my own words to say today. I just heard this song for the first time a couple of hours ago, and it immediately made me think of this scripture. It was read at my and David's wedding.
Life is all so beautifully sinking into my spirit this week. I woke up at 4:30 on Saturday morning and ended up soaking in a hot bath as I watched the sun rise through our big window above the tub. A bird was serenading me the whole time, and I just cried. Releasing grief, anxiety, fear and feeling so incredibly free and happy and alive all at the same time. It was absolutely glorious...this beautiful story of Restoration.
Maybe you feel the same?
Let the birdie sing to you, too, if you like.....
Until her righteousness blazes down like the sun
and her salvation flames up like a torch.
Foreign countries will see your righteousness,
and world leaders your glory.
You'll get a brand-new name
straight from the mouth of God.
You'll be a stunning crown in the palm of God's hand,
a jeweled gold cup held high in the hand of your God.
No more will anyone call you Rejected,
and your country will no more be called Ruined.
You'll be called Hephzibah (My Delight),
and your land Beulah (Married),
Because God delights in you
and your land will be like a wedding celebration.
For as a young man marries his virgin bride,
so your builder marries you,
And as a bridegroom is happy in his bride,
so your God is happy with you.
Life is all so beautifully sinking into my spirit this week. I woke up at 4:30 on Saturday morning and ended up soaking in a hot bath as I watched the sun rise through our big window above the tub. A bird was serenading me the whole time, and I just cried. Releasing grief, anxiety, fear and feeling so incredibly free and happy and alive all at the same time. It was absolutely glorious...this beautiful story of Restoration.
Maybe you feel the same?
Let the birdie sing to you, too, if you like.....
Isaiah 62
Look, Your Savior Comes!
1-5 Regarding Zion, I can't keep my mouth shut, regarding Jerusalem, I can't hold my tongue,Until her righteousness blazes down like the sun
and her salvation flames up like a torch.
Foreign countries will see your righteousness,
and world leaders your glory.
You'll get a brand-new name
straight from the mouth of God.
You'll be a stunning crown in the palm of God's hand,
a jeweled gold cup held high in the hand of your God.
No more will anyone call you Rejected,
and your country will no more be called Ruined.
You'll be called Hephzibah (My Delight),
and your land Beulah (Married),
Because God delights in you
and your land will be like a wedding celebration.
For as a young man marries his virgin bride,
so your builder marries you,
And as a bridegroom is happy in his bride,
so your God is happy with you.
6-7I've posted watchmen on your walls, Jerusalem.
Day and night they keep at it, praying, calling out,
reminding God to remember.
They are to give him no peace until he does what he said,
until he makes Jerusalem famous as the City of Praise.
Day and night they keep at it, praying, calling out,
reminding God to remember.
They are to give him no peace until he does what he said,
until he makes Jerusalem famous as the City of Praise.
8-9God has taken a solemn oath,
an oath he means to keep:
"Never again will I open your grain-filled barns
to your enemies to loot and eat.
Never again will foreigners drink the wine
that you worked so hard to produce.
No. The farmers who grow the food will eat the food
and praise God for it.
And those who make the wine will drink the wine
in my holy courtyards."
an oath he means to keep:
"Never again will I open your grain-filled barns
to your enemies to loot and eat.
Never again will foreigners drink the wine
that you worked so hard to produce.
No. The farmers who grow the food will eat the food
and praise God for it.
And those who make the wine will drink the wine
in my holy courtyards."
10-12Walk out of the gates. Get going!
Get the road ready for the people.
Build the highway. Get at it!
Clear the debris,
hoist high a flag, a signal to all peoples!
Yes! God has broadcast to all the world:
"Tell daughter Zion, 'Look! Your Savior comes,
Ready to do what he said he'd do,
prepared to complete what he promised.'"
Zion will be called new names: Holy People, God-Redeemed,
Sought-Out, City-Not-Forsaken.
Get the road ready for the people.
Build the highway. Get at it!
Clear the debris,
hoist high a flag, a signal to all peoples!
Yes! God has broadcast to all the world:
"Tell daughter Zion, 'Look! Your Savior comes,
Ready to do what he said he'd do,
prepared to complete what he promised.'"
Zion will be called new names: Holy People, God-Redeemed,
Sought-Out, City-Not-Forsaken.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Go Red for Women
Once an American Heart Association employee, always an AHA employee. That's my personal motto anyway (and many others who have worked for that wonderful organization!). It was my first job out of college. I had my degree in medicine, had some fundraising experience, and wouldn't you know it, a congenital heart defect. Working for the AHA not only taught me how to be professional and how to have fancy schmancy business meetings with CEO's--but it also taught me about the bigger picture: my heart.
Most people wouldn't know that heart disease is the number one killer of women. I didn't. And yet, I waltzed into that job coordinating Heart Walks in Northwest Ohio all while carrying around my very own leaky mitral valve and low blood pressure. The ironic thing about it is how God uses the natural to explain the spiritual. I didn't realize that working for the AHA would not only be a career choice for awhile but that it would also be a lifepath that I would walk down.
When I think of my physical heart, I also think of my emotional, spiritual heart. It has a double meaning. And when I look back at how God has ordained my steps, I can now see what He was doing with this job. He's always giving us clues as to what He's up to...if we just take the time to listen.
During my job, I planned Heart Walks. I raised money. I met with volunteers. It was great and challenging and actually not at all up my alley interest-wise. In it's own unique way it provided me with stress, raising that low blood pressure. This is not because the job in and of itself was bad. It was not--at all. It was just that it wasn't my groove. I wanted to spend all my time hanging out with the heart patients and survivors, hearing their stories and relishing in their victories. The AHA wanted that, too, and relish they did. But I was there to raise funds and to coordinate. So, during the time I worked there, I did. I did the more left-brained tasks that needed to be done but my heart yearned for the more relational aspect of the job. Such is life, and so I only spent about a year or so in that actual job before I moved onto different endeavors that suited my giftings better. But I will never forget the sweet time I had there and how I was impacted by the wonderful people I met and the integrity of the people I got to work with. In fact, I've continued to carry that season with me and always look forward to Go Red for Women Day each February.
All this to say, I do actually have a point.
My point being this. That job was sign. It was a big arrow from Heaven pointing me in the direction God was taking me. No, my leaky heart valve was not a huge cause for concern. I did not need surgery and only have a routine check up once a year to make sure it hasn't progressed. And yet, my heart was still leaking. It still needed healed. And so do many women's hearts in this country. And so, it has somewhat become a life mission of mine to care for my heart....and to care for other women's hearts. To find what makes my heart tick and to go after it--all the while encouraging other women to do the same. If heart disease is the number one killer of women in this country, you know what that says to me? We have a lot of miserable women around here...literally dying of broken hearts. Bruised hearts. Mistreated hearts. Neglected hearts. Hearts that need to know true love, real nurture, and genuine adoration.
We have missed something.
Oh, you mean that strutting my stuff half naked is not good for my heart? It doesn't make me feel nurtured? Oh, you mean overcompensating for everyone else's issues and taking care of everyone else before myself is not a good idea? What about staying in relationships with people who misuse and abuse me? That's not true love?
Nope.
Our sisters are dying out there, ladies. In fact, some of us are dying. Trapped in the lies of this world--only being "cared" for by our appearance or by what we can offer someone who wants to take whatever we might have to give. Don't let it be you.
Give yourself time. Do things that you are passionate about. Write. Run. Dance. Cook. Skydive. Surf. Eat chocolate! (Ok, not all the time, but definitely sometimes!)
And not only that....but face your fears. It is so very worth it. Especially when there is a gift behind it that is just waiting for you. Don't put it off any longer.
I've been thinking a lot about our potential move. We should find out soon if this is really the route we are going to go (you know, after we look at our appraisal and all those funny math figures and percentage signs I don't understand). In fact, we're even checking out a few more houses this afternoon. Like I said in my last blog, it brings up some fears and some anxieties for me. The loss of control. And at the same time, God has been giving me such peace about moving forward in the midst of my heart being scared. What if I have to keep a house clean with a newborn and a toddler and a St. Bernard while getting no sleep? What if we sell our house without finding a new one that we like--and in doing so leave such a precious home that we love? What if I have to put all of my stuff in storage? What if? What if? And you know what He said to me while I was clearing out this clutter in the mind the last few days? "Sarah, your stuff (past) does not own you."
In fact, He's been caring for my heart so very uniquely in this situation that I am actually getting excited for my very own Heart Walk. Facing my fears. Looking for my gift. I wish I could give you all the details...it really is a fantastic story. But just know this, I've resolved in my heart that even if we put our house up for sale and say it doesn't sell or say we do all this work for it's upkeep and then we don't officially move, it will still be worth it. Yes, God may very well have a nice new house for us. It feels like He does. But even if He doesn't, this process of letting go and facing my fears, it's worth it. I'm caring for my heart. I'm fighting heart disease. And I will still get a gift, more of Him. More freedom. More days to LIVE instead of just get by. Isn't that what we all want?
Some people may read my blog rantings and think, "Wow, that girl's got some issues." And you know what? That's fine with me. I may have some issues, but no matter what, living with a heart fully alive is so worth it (I'm pretty sure I just accidentally stole that line from a John Eldredge book). But really. What a boring and miserable life we lead when we don't face our fears and work through hurts. I'd much rather attempt to sell my house in the midst of pregnancy hormones, St. Bernard hair clumps, and smooshed goldfish crackers in my carpet because of a sweet blonde toddler---than to just sit back and wonder "What if?" To just let the anxiety own me. To just let my "stuff" own me.
That's just plain lame.
So, whether you are in the midst of a major life transition or not, may you live with a fully alive heart today. Go Red for Women. Go Red for You. Let yourself be cherished and cared for. He's been waiting for us to say yes.
And as a side note, that leaky heart valve? It continues to heal more and more every year I get checked at the cardiologist. In fact, the last time I went, my doctor could barely even see it on the echocardiogram....
He cares. He heals. He really does.
Most people wouldn't know that heart disease is the number one killer of women. I didn't. And yet, I waltzed into that job coordinating Heart Walks in Northwest Ohio all while carrying around my very own leaky mitral valve and low blood pressure. The ironic thing about it is how God uses the natural to explain the spiritual. I didn't realize that working for the AHA would not only be a career choice for awhile but that it would also be a lifepath that I would walk down.
When I think of my physical heart, I also think of my emotional, spiritual heart. It has a double meaning. And when I look back at how God has ordained my steps, I can now see what He was doing with this job. He's always giving us clues as to what He's up to...if we just take the time to listen.
During my job, I planned Heart Walks. I raised money. I met with volunteers. It was great and challenging and actually not at all up my alley interest-wise. In it's own unique way it provided me with stress, raising that low blood pressure. This is not because the job in and of itself was bad. It was not--at all. It was just that it wasn't my groove. I wanted to spend all my time hanging out with the heart patients and survivors, hearing their stories and relishing in their victories. The AHA wanted that, too, and relish they did. But I was there to raise funds and to coordinate. So, during the time I worked there, I did. I did the more left-brained tasks that needed to be done but my heart yearned for the more relational aspect of the job. Such is life, and so I only spent about a year or so in that actual job before I moved onto different endeavors that suited my giftings better. But I will never forget the sweet time I had there and how I was impacted by the wonderful people I met and the integrity of the people I got to work with. In fact, I've continued to carry that season with me and always look forward to Go Red for Women Day each February.
All this to say, I do actually have a point.
My point being this. That job was sign. It was a big arrow from Heaven pointing me in the direction God was taking me. No, my leaky heart valve was not a huge cause for concern. I did not need surgery and only have a routine check up once a year to make sure it hasn't progressed. And yet, my heart was still leaking. It still needed healed. And so do many women's hearts in this country. And so, it has somewhat become a life mission of mine to care for my heart....and to care for other women's hearts. To find what makes my heart tick and to go after it--all the while encouraging other women to do the same. If heart disease is the number one killer of women in this country, you know what that says to me? We have a lot of miserable women around here...literally dying of broken hearts. Bruised hearts. Mistreated hearts. Neglected hearts. Hearts that need to know true love, real nurture, and genuine adoration.
We have missed something.
Oh, you mean that strutting my stuff half naked is not good for my heart? It doesn't make me feel nurtured? Oh, you mean overcompensating for everyone else's issues and taking care of everyone else before myself is not a good idea? What about staying in relationships with people who misuse and abuse me? That's not true love?
Nope.
Our sisters are dying out there, ladies. In fact, some of us are dying. Trapped in the lies of this world--only being "cared" for by our appearance or by what we can offer someone who wants to take whatever we might have to give. Don't let it be you.
Give yourself time. Do things that you are passionate about. Write. Run. Dance. Cook. Skydive. Surf. Eat chocolate! (Ok, not all the time, but definitely sometimes!)
And not only that....but face your fears. It is so very worth it. Especially when there is a gift behind it that is just waiting for you. Don't put it off any longer.
I've been thinking a lot about our potential move. We should find out soon if this is really the route we are going to go (you know, after we look at our appraisal and all those funny math figures and percentage signs I don't understand). In fact, we're even checking out a few more houses this afternoon. Like I said in my last blog, it brings up some fears and some anxieties for me. The loss of control. And at the same time, God has been giving me such peace about moving forward in the midst of my heart being scared. What if I have to keep a house clean with a newborn and a toddler and a St. Bernard while getting no sleep? What if we sell our house without finding a new one that we like--and in doing so leave such a precious home that we love? What if I have to put all of my stuff in storage? What if? What if? And you know what He said to me while I was clearing out this clutter in the mind the last few days? "Sarah, your stuff (past) does not own you."
In fact, He's been caring for my heart so very uniquely in this situation that I am actually getting excited for my very own Heart Walk. Facing my fears. Looking for my gift. I wish I could give you all the details...it really is a fantastic story. But just know this, I've resolved in my heart that even if we put our house up for sale and say it doesn't sell or say we do all this work for it's upkeep and then we don't officially move, it will still be worth it. Yes, God may very well have a nice new house for us. It feels like He does. But even if He doesn't, this process of letting go and facing my fears, it's worth it. I'm caring for my heart. I'm fighting heart disease. And I will still get a gift, more of Him. More freedom. More days to LIVE instead of just get by. Isn't that what we all want?
Some people may read my blog rantings and think, "Wow, that girl's got some issues." And you know what? That's fine with me. I may have some issues, but no matter what, living with a heart fully alive is so worth it (I'm pretty sure I just accidentally stole that line from a John Eldredge book). But really. What a boring and miserable life we lead when we don't face our fears and work through hurts. I'd much rather attempt to sell my house in the midst of pregnancy hormones, St. Bernard hair clumps, and smooshed goldfish crackers in my carpet because of a sweet blonde toddler---than to just sit back and wonder "What if?" To just let the anxiety own me. To just let my "stuff" own me.
That's just plain lame.
So, whether you are in the midst of a major life transition or not, may you live with a fully alive heart today. Go Red for Women. Go Red for You. Let yourself be cherished and cared for. He's been waiting for us to say yes.
And as a side note, that leaky heart valve? It continues to heal more and more every year I get checked at the cardiologist. In fact, the last time I went, my doctor could barely even see it on the echocardiogram....
He cares. He heals. He really does.
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