Middle of Life Grown Up Lessons

I think I might almost be a grown up.  At least, I’m heading that way. I’m 45 years old, and some might think that it’s about time. But, for me, it’s been a process. And I absolutely love it, and sometimes I hate it. It’s hard, and it’s messy. But I love that I’m here, and I love that I’m learning things about myself that maybe I, personally, would not have been able to learn in my twenties. Some of my growth required time and experiences that I wasn’t looking for earlier, and some lessons I actually didn’t even know existed until now.

I get excited when I get to share what I’ve learned and what I’m learning, because, honestly, growth is not really an age thing. We’ve all seen younger people who seem to be wise beyond their years, and we’ve also seen older people who are still demanding their own way and who act like three year olds in old people bodies…it’s not pretty, but it’s a real thing. So I think growth and grown up-hood is not only a thing of grace, but it also has to do with our openness to receiving the gifts given to us. It’s having eyes to see and ears to hear and a heart that’s open to new possibilities.

Lesson #1:  We all have core value because we are made in the image of God…we are God’s image bearers. That’s incredible. However, we all have core hurts that some of us live out of. And after continually walking in those core hurts, it’s hard to know and feel our own core value and virtually impossible to see other people’s value if we can’t even see our own. We are valuable, and we are worth it.

Lesson #2:  Feelings are not bad. In fact, they are helpful in how we figure out why we do the things we do. We have to be able to feel and to realize what we’re feeling, and only then, can we move towards healing and growth.

Lesson #3:  In order to know and love others well, we have to know ourselves. We have to be compassionate with ourselves before we can be compassionate with others. Jesus said, “Love God; love your neighbor as you love yourself.”

Lesson #4:  Boundaries are vital. Everyone has a “yard,” and we get to decide who comes in and out of our yards.  While boundaries don’t initially make things easier, they make things healthier, and eventually, things do get easier with use.

Lesson #5:  We all have a voice. And finding and using our voice is important.  We have to be able to use it for ourselves before we are able to use it for others.

Lessons #6:  We are all unique individuals who have different gifts, and when we grace people with our particular gift, those around us are enriched and encouraged. No one’s gift is better than anyone else’s, so we don’t have to compete and compare.

Lesson #7:  I no longer have to put people in boxes labeled: good box and bad box. If I am establishing appropriate boundaries (Lesson 4) and seeing other people’s core value (Lesson 1), then I no longer have to make people the bad guy and me the good guy. People are just people.

Lesson #8:  You only know what you know. This seems like a very obvious kind of statement. But if we really believe that about ourselves and others, we can begin to not only show people grace, but we can cut ourselves some slack, as well.

Lesson #9:  You are not alone. We are all in this together.  Your story may have different details than mine, but our stories are connected. We don’t have to do this alone.

Lessons #10:  Life is hard. It just is. There is always going to be stuff that we would rather not go through. But as I get older, I ask myself, “What am I supposed to be learning from this?” I want to look for the beauty in everything, but especially in the struggle.

Lesson #11:  Everything is connected. If you start looking for the connections, you start seeing them everywhere.

Lesson #12:  “Where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am” is not just a nice principle or a cute Bible verse, it’s a real, life-giving mystery. And that’s the “following Jesus” kind of church that anyone anywhere can be a part of.

Lesson #13:  Questions are good. I have a couple friends who ask questions well, and I’m learning from them. If we’re willing to ask, there will always be someone there to answer.

Lesson #14:  Things are not happening to me; they are happening for me. When hard things come my way, instead of asking “Why me?” I now ask “How do I get to grow up in this?” If I look at the world through this lens, I no longer have to be a victim. It’s the difference between knowing that God is for me, not against me.

Lesson #15:  I absolutely have to have solitude and silence and wide open spaces. I cannot breathe well without these.

I don’t usually do lists, but I thought this might be a not-so-Kim-kind-of-way to look at how I’m becoming a grown up. A lot of these lessons overlap because everything is connected, of course (Lesson 11). These lessons have not been easy, and I hope to share stories in future blogs about how these lessons came to be.

For some of these lessons, I’m at the very beginning, while others I’m somewhere in the middle, and other lessons have been long and hard, and I’ve had to endure way more than I cared to. But I have a good Friend who has walked beside me and continues to walk with me on this amazing journey. And I’m grateful for the lessons He’s teaching me on a daily basis and for the friends He’s given to walk with me along the way.

The Gift of Stories

After almost three years away from publishing anything that other people can see, I’m kind of at a loss as to where to begin. A lot has happened in that time. I never stopped writing though. I journal my thoughts, frustrations, and prayers most mornings.  I have things to say, and I have this longing once again to put it “out there.” I don’t even know if I want people to read my stuff anymore. I don’t know if my insecurity in my writing ability and my vulnerability can handle people’s criticisms or even validation at this point. And yet, I still have stuff to say. I still have stories to share, and I’ve seen that in my openness and honesty about where I am that others gain strength and courage and are able to open up and share their stories and their innate desire to be known and loved.

It takes courage to share honestly the stuff that all of us are going through. And sometimes, it takes years to awaken to our own stories and tell others, but in the process of sharing, we find healing and more courage and more strength. I think that’s why I’m back. Not for validation or approval or criticism, but I want you to know that you have a story to share, a story that the people closest to you need to hear, a story that helps us all share in becoming more human, more real, more honest about where we are in this messy journey. We are all struggling with the same stuff. We all need community, and we all need to be able to share ourselves with the people who love us and want us to grow into the people God created us to be. We need friends to be able to hear our stories, cheer us on, encourage us, and love us, and we need to do the same for them. No judgment, no advice, no competition, just listening and openness and love. I think it’s amazing when I’m able to sit with a friend with nothing on the agenda and the day stretched out before us with no plans other than to sit and hang and rabbit trail. I honestly think that’s why I like camping so much. It’s sitting around a campfire with no agenda and no time issues, where you don’t have to be anywhere or do anything. Just enjoy each other’s stories and the time it takes to share them.

Our stories are powerful because they reveal who we are and who we are becoming, and they are ours alone. But not to keep hidden. They’re meant for us to give away. And every once in a while, our stories help others find their way, and sometimes as we’re telling them, they help us find our own way. So I’m back to share my story, the one that some need to hear. But more importantly, the one I need to tell.

why Lent?

Growing up in a Baptist church, I don’t even think Lent was on the radar, at least not on my radar. Christmas and Easter were what we celebrated or at least what I remember anyway. We’d come to church on Easter wearing pastels and singing songs about Jesus being risen from the dead. But Lent? I didn’t even know what Lent meant.

I only started hearing about Lent a dozen or so years ago. We attended a church where people talked about what they were giving up for Lent. At first, I didn’t know what in the world they were talking about. After I learned a little more, Lent became a fun and interesting topic for discussion about what to give up. There was the usual giving up of broccoli or Brussel sprouts or something that you didn’t like or wouldn’t eat anyway. But some more serious Lent challenges, for some of us, were to give up chocolate or sugar or coffee. One year, I made my kids give up something. I used Lent as a bad parenting technique; it didn’t work out.  (Lent in My Belly Button)

I think rituals are important, but for a long time, I failed to realize what the real purpose of Lent was. It became about some kind of willpower, rather than any kind of Jesus significance.

But why give up anything for Lent? What actually is the significance? Why deprive myself for one minute when I don’t really have to? For me, it has become about the waiting, the anticipation of Jesus. I’ve noticed when I have fasted in the past, it’s at that moment when I don’t think I can stand it for one minute longer that that’s the moment when Jesus steps in, and He becomes my strength. All my self-reliance and thinking I have it figured out go out the window. And I lean in hard because I feel like my stomach will eat itself, and it’s at this point that I realize I have nothing in myself. I am physically and spiritually weak, and I really need Jesus. So that’s why I participate in Lent. It makes me realize my utter frailty, my utter lack of patience and self-control, and it makes me realize my need, my absolute dependence on God for food, for life, for everything.

About mid-February I start to think about Lent; I start thinking about what my give-up will be, not just to do something because that’s what you do. But how will I fast in anticipation of Jesus? What will help me see Him clearly and reveal my need for Him the most?

Last year, I cannot even remember what I gave up or even if I did in fact give up anything, but a friend challenged Jeff and me  to read the entire Bible during Lent. So that’s what I did. At first it was a challenge, but then it became something much, much more than that. Not to be overly dramatic, but it was life-changing for me. I felt like I ate His Word, and it became life and breath.  I absolutely could not wait to dig in and read each day, and I would go to bed in anticipation of what I would read and “see” the next day. I couldn’t wait to see how the Holy Spirit revealed Himself and how often He surprised me with His truth and love and hope in crazy kind of places (like Leviticus, and I kind of fell in love with Isaiah).

When I read in Psalm 19 how God’s Word renews our lives, makes the inexperienced wise, makes our hearts glad, makes our eyes light up, is more desirable than gold and sweeter than honey, I can say a resounding, “Yes, Yes, YES!” When I read the Bible like I would any other novel, I feel like I absorb it into the interior parts of my soul, my head, my heart. I feel it in my bones, and  it becomes a part of me.

I read somewhere (the internet) that Lent is 40 days long and used for prayer and fasting in the time before Easter, but the period between Ash Wednesday, which happens to be on Jeff’s birthday this year (March 5), and Easter (April 20) is 46 days long. So I’m excited to once again have the opportunity to read the Bible from Ash Wednesday to Easter.  This sounds daunting and overwhelming, and it is at times. But I believe the Holy Spirit teaches us all things, and I’m excited to not just know more but see Him and hear from Him in ways that I haven’t yet heard. So I’m almost a little giddy and ready to start today, but I wait. The waiting, the anticipation is good.

I’m not necessarily giving up anything for Lent, except maybe reading other books and giving up watching more DVDs than I really need to. But no matter what I do or don’t do for Lent or any other time, the focus must be Christ. (Heb. 12)

Because of the year that I tried to make my kids give up stuff, I decided that every one should choose their own Lent give-up. It just really works better that way. The stirrings of my heart or whatever you want to call them don’t seem to apply to others the same way they do to me, and I’ve come to realize that the Holy Spirit’s not usually talking to other people in the same way that He’s talking to me. And so I don’t get caught up with pushing my own stuff on people. Not anymore. I trust God to lead me, as well as the people around me, in the places that He wants each of us to go. And that makes it so much more exciting to hear all the different ways that God wakes each one of us up to Him. 🙂

Eve Taught Me All I Need to Know

Eve, the mother of all mankind, had a huge responsibility and weight upon her shoulders as the first woman, wife and mother. Eve didn’t  get a choice to accept or decline that role; God Himself chose her. God created her from Adam’s rib, put her in the Garden of Eden with Adam, and the rest is history. Or is it?

We give Eve a hard time; we accuse her of blowing it for all of us. I have often thought that if I had been there in place of her that I would not have been deceived, that I would have done things much differently. But even in my few moments of pride in thinking that way, I know I would have done the same thing. I would have grasped for what I was not supposed to have. I would have risked my relationship with God to have my own way. Just like Eve, I would not have been satisfied with the life I’d been given.

The serpent deceived Eve. And when Eve chose to believe the serpent’s lies over God’s truth, she doubted God’s goodness.  And Eve’s sin was not only disobedience to God but also wanting to live a life independent from God, wanting to be her own god, wanting to know more than she needed to know, thinking that God was holding out on her.

In 2 Corinthians, Paul uses Eve’s deception as a warning for the people of Corinth to not be led away from their devotion to Christ. Poor Eve. Paul uses her as a “what not to do” person. But the point of all this: Eve sinning, being blamed by her husband and by every woman in the world for our plight, is that I finally realized it was not the end of the story for Eve. It never is. There is always hope. Always redemption.

There were certainly consequences for Adam and Eve’s sin. God booted them out of the perfect garden; and for women, there is pain in childbirth and a neediness that make some of us women want to cling to our husbands instead of God. But God didn’t boot Adam and Eve out with their leaves trailing behind them. He didn’t let them go off into a wilderness without properly clothing them first. His provision for them showed that He still loved them and would continue to take care of them. They were His children, and I believe Eve saw God’s tender care of her and responded to her Abba Father’s love. Love, not fear.

After the garden, Eve only spoke twice more in the Bible. When Eve had Cain, her firstborn son, she said, “I have had a male child with the Lord’s help.” With the Lord’s help…this seems small and insignificant, but for the first time, it stood out powerfully to me. Because after everything was said and done, Eve acknowledged her dependence on God.

And, if I didn’t see it the first time, God once again opened my eyes to His love of Eve and her dependence on Him when she had her third son Seth, the one born to her after Cain killed Abel. In her final words, Eve said, “God has given me another child in place of Abel.” God has given me..has graced me with…

Eve got it. She was not lost; she was not without hope. She saw God’s goodness, His grace, and she acknowledged His good gifts. And we are not without hope, no matter how badly we have blown it in the past. There is always redemption, always God’s goodness, always God’s amazing grace.

“Tune my heart to sing Thy grace…” I often sing this song to myself, reminding me that I cannot even tune my own heart to sing God’s grace…He has to tune it for me. His grace is not something that I can conjure up…not something I can make appear in my own life. It just is, and I can receive it with open hands and an open heart, or I can shut down and choose to reject it. Eve accepted it. God tuned Eve’s heart to sing His grace.

I’m sure Eve felt very deeply for what she had lost, not just in terms of things and perfection but also in the relationship with God that was different. But I believe she grew in amazing ways because of the trial and suffering she brought upon herself. I sometimes find myself repeating the first part of Eve’s story daily in wanting my own way and grasping for what I think will make me happy, but thank goodness, Eve’s story didn’t end there. And mine doesn’t either. The first part helps bring me to my knees in realizing  that I cannot do this life without God. He has to be the center. I see this in Eve, in her acceptance and acknowledgement of God’s sovereignty and goodness in her life.

So thank you, Eve, for doing the thankless job of being the first one, and thank you for representing us all, showing us that we are all frail and easily deceived. But thank you, most of all, for acknowledging your dependence on a good God and seeing His good gifts, even in the midst of terrible struggles. We see your example of hope, and we see God’s graciousness in providing for all of His children. So, thanks, for pointing us to Him.

counselors, pastors, church and growing up in God

When I was about 30, Jeff and I saw a counselor. We’d been married ten years at that point, and I was just angry. Really angry. I was there to unload. But during that three-hour session, I had a great epiphany (more like a lightning bolt in a gentle God kind of way) about Matthew 18 concerning God’s forgiveness and my forgiveness toward others (specifically Jeff). I remember hearing the Holy Spirit speak to me then for the first time. I’m sure He had before; I just failed to recognize it as His voice. But once He spoke to me at that moment, my heart softened, and my eyes became like a faucet that no amount of tissue could stop. The problems in our marriage didn’t magically go away when I heard the Holy Spirit, but I learned at that point that God was really real and that He loved me very much. And that was enough.

Over the last twelve years, I’ve been learning to trust Him gradually more and more. And over the last five years, I feel like I’ve been in God’s laboratory, and He has done some serious damage to who I thought I was and who I thought He was. Not that I have to figure out who He is and put Him in some kind of “God-box,” but I know Him to be good, and I know Him to be kind and gentle, and I trust Him with my life and with the lives of the people around me. And that is enough.

I have gone to church my whole life with the exception of about 3 1/2 years, and those three plus years were where I actually grew the most. And God did this growing thing in me. He taught me Himself. I’m not ditching or slamming church here, nor am I advocating ditching or slamming church, but what I’m trying to say is “going to church” is not the key thing. Religion is not the key thing. Jesus is. Life has to be about this relationship with Him. So what does that look like?

A few years back, I came across this Scripture that changed me or at the very least my way of thinking about how God teaches us. I John 2:20, 27 says, “But you have an anointing from the Holy One and all of you have knowledge…The  anointing you received from Him remains in you, and you don’t need anyone to teach you. Instead, His anointing teaches you about all things and is true and is not a lie; just as He has taught you, remain in Him.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a message preached about this passage. Does this mean that we don’t necessarily need someone explaining the Bible to us? Does this mean that the Holy Spirit can really teach us by Himself without the aid of the pastor? What if we taught that, promoted that? Would that empty the pews on Sunday? Would that mean we couldn’t support those buildings and budgets because we don’t need the pastor in the way we think we need the pastor? I’m not trying to be snarky here. Jeff just became a pastor, and part of our living depends on gifts given to the church.

But I’m not worried about our living; God has shown up more times than I could possibly count. Nor am I concerned with filling pews with people who are interested in just playing church and not actually “being the church.” Because what I want more than anything is for God’s people to grow up in Jesus, to be able to see God at work in their lives, to be able to read the Bible, God’s Truth, and for Him to set them free. And I don’t think that necessarily comes from hearing what a pastor has to say on Sunday. That might be a part it, but that is definitely not the whole picture.

What if we each learn how to hear what the Holy Spirit is teaching each one of us daily? What if we believe what James 1 says about asking God for wisdom and actually ask Him and see Him teach us Himself? That could be life-changing, church-changing, Kingdom-changing.

What if we begin to view the pastor as a shepherd who, like everyone else, is led by the chief Shepherd? He (the pastor, the little shepherd) is there to point people to Jesus and hopefully teach people how to see God and hear from the Holy Spirit themselves. The pastor’s sermons are important, but probably not as important as we think they are, or rely on them to be.

This is what the Bible says for pastors to be and do: “Shepherd God’s flock among you, not overseeing out of compulsion but freely, according to God’s will; not for the money but eagerly; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock.”  I Peter 5:2-3 It seems like it’s not what pastors say that is so important but rather how they walk it out with their families, friends, congregations. And isn’t that true of all of us?

One day I got irritated with Jeff about him not picking up his phone and meeting whatever demands I had at the time. I usually only call when I want or need something. But anyway, he was gone; I needed something, and he wasn’t answering. I was mad but picked up my Bible anyway and the Proverbs I read that day pretty much said this…Don’t pick stupid fights… I had to laugh out loud at myself and my little tantrum. I love how God does that for me. It’s like He’s saying to me, Are you really going to take yourself that seriously? Eyes off Jeff; eyes back on Me.

We just started a Bible study on the women of the Bible that I am super excited about, and I recently did our first Bible study on Eve. I’ve read those passages so many times. And for those of us who grew up in church, we almost know them by heart and sometimes we might even be tempted to think that they are boring, but the Holy Spirit still reveals Himself in the middle of those things if we’re willing to listen.

Now, when I began preparing for the Bible study, I ordered every book from the library I could get my hands on about the women of the Bible. But I have to say, they ended up in my closet because why would I go there for information and inspiration when I have God’s inspired Word sitting in front of me? Once again, other people’s opinions are great, and I’m really glad that they had the Holy Spirit teach them, but I want the Holy Spirit to teach me without their help, without my mind being clouded by their thoughts and feelings. So I dug in myself. Just me, my Bible, the Holy Spirit. And I learned some pretty amazing things as a result.

There’s so much that the Holy Spirit wants to teach you, to teach me. Something else might be your thing; but here’s my thing: Dig in just a little…say a prayer; read a verse; take a walk; sing out loud; show up; hang on and see if God shows up in a way you can hear. There’s not a formula, but you have to start somewhere and what do any of us have to lose? And the gain? I think I’ve just barely scratched the surface.

Courage: I Can’t Do This Without You

We have huge opportunities in our neighborhood, in our community. But honestly sometimes I’m a little afraid. I’m nervous that I won’t do things right, that I will zone out when someone is telling me something important, that I will be confused and won’t have any idea what I’m supposed to do. And yet, God is opening doors and placing opportunities to go outside my comfort zone and offer myself. To show up. Are we willing to step beyond our little spaces and offer a cup of cold water to someone who is thirsty? (Matthew 10)

I like the thought of helping people. I like the thought of volunteering and being useful, but for me the actual doing it is the hard part. Finding the courage to step out and maybe not do things the right way, admit my lack of common sense, admit that I have a directionally challenged brain and just be willing to do what is needed and to be able to a laugh out loud at my limitations and see what God can do with them is still hard for me. But it’s really not about me or my fear, my pain, my insecurities. But what I’m learning is to show up with open hands and an open heart and see what God can do with them.

Some of us from Trinity volunteered a couple of weeks ago to help in our local school with a vision and hearing screening. We had no idea what we would be doing going in there, and I have to admit I was nervous. I talked with one of our church people when we were at the school, and she admitted she had been nervous too, and that after she originally signed up, she thought, “What in the world am I doing?” But she showed up anyway, and she did her job well. Her courage amazed me…she’s 79.

The task that I was given for the screening is one of the things I’m no good at; I had to pay attention to what I was being told and then go find different classrooms. My brain does not work at all with directions and finding stuff. I totally freeze up and cannot even pay attention to what I’m being told. But I honestly did the best I could, and I walked around and around and up and down halls and eventually found what I was looking for. It was good for me to have to try to find my way around; it was good for me to be uncomfortable. It was good for me to have to walk around the building and “own” it.

During church last week, we talked about several more opportunities to volunteer and help in our local school, and a friend came up to me and said that she wanted to do things like that, but she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to do what was asked of her. And this is what I told her…I’m scared too. But what if we do this thing together? What if we face our fears and “kumbaya” it together? There’s not only huge encouragement in it being more than just myself, but there can be real community in serving together, knowing that we’re not left alone with our fears and insecurities, knowing that the people around us are facing the same fear, different situations maybe, but the same paralyzing fear to see beyond ourselves to the world around us and to actually show up in this life we’re called to live.

We’re really in this thing together. Matthew 18: 20 says, “When two or three are gathering in my name, I am there in the midst of them.” Jesus sent His disciples out in groups of two. And it’s pretty amazing when believers are gathered the things that God can accomplish through them. He works individually as well. No doubt about that. But the sense of togetherness, the courage that God can build in a community of people who are focused on Him can be pretty amazing. The energy, the strength, not to mention the excitement of being involved in something that is bigger than ourselves and not for our own glory but for His glory is just a downright “jumping up and down for joy” kind of thing.

Paul and Silas, beaten and thrown into jail, prayed and sang praises together at midnight. The result: the jailer and his family came to know Jesus. Together. There’s something about doing stuff with other people that gives us a boost of courage. A “we’re not in this alone” kind of thing.  We’re serving Jesus together. If I fall down, there’s going to be someone there to help me get back up. I don’t have to do this stuff alone.There will be someone to sing praises with to God.

Even when Jesus went back to heaven, He told His disciples that He was not going to leave them alone. He told them that He was going  to send a Comforter who would be with them always…the Holy Spirit within them, within us to give us courage to be bold and do the things that we cannot do alone, on our own. We are “created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared ahead of time so that we should walk in them.”(Ephesians 2)  But it still takes courage to take the first step and the many steps thereafter. But we don’t have to do it alone.

So whether it’s just me and the Holy Spirit or a whole bunch of people and the Holy Spirit, God can do this thing that He’s called us to do. It’s His kingdom. He’s in charge, and I may not know the specifics of what I am supposed to be doing all the time, but I know this: God has called me to this life, and He’s called me to give this life away for Him, and this absolutely begins in my home and with my family. He may be calling me to other things as well, but it starts with the people closest to me and works its way out. Jesus says in Matthew 5 that we are to let our light shine, so the good works (you know, the ones that God created that we just have to walk in) point people to God and bring Him glory.

I don’t have a lot of courage. I don’t particularly love doing new things. But I know God can do this thing through me (whatever the thing is He’s calling me to do at the time), and it’s even more exciting to see when He does it through others. And then, when we all join hands and hearts and do it together, I almost come out of my skin with joy.

Courage bleeds neediness.

Courage sees hope in dark places.

Courage leans heavy on Jesus and moves in the middle of fear. –Emily P. Freeman, A Million Little Ways, 136

when stuff unravels

Jeff and I are in the middle of something that we had not anticipated. It has nothing to do with our family or our church family or us as a couple. From our perspective, it’s huge and troublesome and overwhelming. But the crazy thing is that it’s really nobody’s fault, and for that I am grateful. I tend to be a “blamer,” just like Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. But this crazy, unexpected thing, I cannot blame anyone for. We could not possibly have seen this coming. We could not have prepared for it or even fixed it. We just had no idea. But here we are anyway having to deal with something way beyond our control, something that a few years back would have left me a panicky mess.

I have a few options when I get to these dark places that threaten to overwhelm me and make me want to “numb out,” freak out, and figure out someone to blame. But I’ve been here before. Maybe not exactly the same situation, but I’ve had similar feelings in my gut, and I’ve seen God do some amazing things in those dark times, so I’m trusting that this is another opportunity for growth. We don’t necessarily get opportunities like these every day.

I see God in the middle of this. I trust that He is here with me at all times and lean heavily into Him. This is not something I can make better; not something I can manufacture with an “It’ll be fine” attitude; it’s not something I can ignore or make go away. It’s something that has to be faced head on but can be faced with confidence, knowing that Jesus is walking with us through it and allowing Him to do His good work in us. And eventually when others go through this too, we will be able to comfort them in their struggle…been there, done that; God is good, especially in the middle of it because His mercies never cease. He is truly kind and gentle.

So pray for us. Not that the situation would get easier or go away, but that we would face it with God’s strength. I spent one night last week watching DVDs for hours curled up on the couch, bone-tired and burdened. Today is a new day, and I can face it with Jesus as my strength, and these are not just words that I throw around to make myself feel better or appear especially “religious.” With me, what you see is what you get, and if Jesus weren’t real to me, I wouldn’t be talking about Him or depending on Him as my very life. For me, life is all about relationships…the relationships I have with God, with my family, with friends, with those I come into contact with, and when my relationships are out of whack…any of them, I feel it deeply. Thankfully, God and God alone keeps me grounded. He tunes my heart to sing His grace.

And just as James says to rejoice in trials because they allow us to endure and then become more mature in God, I want to welcome this struggle, realizing that we will be able to see God work this out for His glory and our good, as well as see Him grow us up a bit more. And these days, that’s what I long for most, to be fully alive, completely depending on my Abba.

Surprise Gifts

Jeff just recently became the pastor of a small church in our community. And when I say in our community, I literally mean two streets over from our house (.5 miles on the odometer).  In fact, Jeff walks over there routinely.

For the past few years, we got to know some of the people at Trinity. I went to most of Trinity’s children’s events with my kids, and our family did some community service projects with them. So when Trinity started their pastor search in April, one of my friends from the church emailed me to pray for them as they began their search. But it absolutely never occurred to me or to them that Jeff would be the person to fill the pastor position.

One night in September, we were over at Trinity for a Neighborhood Watch Meeting, and God, in His funny kind of way, had me thinking “what if this is actually a possibility?”

Because I had no idea how Jeff would respond to this idea, I kept this God-nudge to myself longer than I keep most things to myself.  Much to my complete amazement, God planted the same thought in Jeff as well. Once we threw our thought out to our friends at Trinity, then it was just a matter of trusting that God would direct everyone the way He wanted. I had this peace about the whole thing that was surreal. I really wanted to be at Trinity with those people, but I knew God had this thing, whichever way it went.

So when the church called our family to come be a part of Trinity, it felt much like a surprise gift, an unexpected gift that I had not seen coming. Maybe the best gifts are actually the ones I don’t see coming, the ones I haven’t picked out for myself, the ones I trust God to gift me with.

Without being overly dramatic, I just want to say that I love this…the way God led us here, this church body, getting to “be the church” in our very own neighborhood, the crazy bigness of God.

And I absolutely love what God has called me to do: to know and love these women, these families. I feel that this is what God prepared me for…especially after all those months sitting in my backyard, praying and searching and singing and reading and listening, but I feel like this is also the path that He’s been leading me down my entire life. Nothing is ever wasted.

I keep looking at the opportunities that Jeff and I have had over the years,  and I’m surprised (I really shouldn’t be) at how God prepared us for what we are now called to. I never saw this coming. But I believe now more than ever that this is my calling, my purpose in this short life God has given me…to love God, love my family, love this church family, and walk with all of these people toward Jesus.

For those who have done church work forever, I know like this may seem overly optimistic and hopeful in a very naive kind of way. But, honestly, my hope isn’t in the people in our community or in Jeff or even in myself, but my hope is in a God who knows and loves us all very much and has called me to this community, this mission, this life. And I’m grateful.

The hard stuff will come. I know church can get weird and people are messy (me included), and I won’t stick my head in the sand when tough times come, but I don’t want to brace myself against anything either. I just want to be and let it come as it will. And really trust that God is good enough to lead everyone through the places that He chooses.  I know that the struggles and the trials are gifts from a gracious God too. This is faith for me, real and simple.

Above all else, I have to stay grounded, and that means that I have to fix my eyes on Jesus. I can’t make it one single moment without Him. And out of that and as a result of that, I’m called to “maintain an intense love…since love covers a multitude of sins.” As I walked into Trinity Church that first Sunday, I felt a deep sense that the people just wanted to be known and loved. And I know the God who can do these things, and I’m blessed beyond belief that He has chosen to pour His love through me, through Jeff, through our family. 

And, really, that’s all I’ve got. But I’m pretty sure that’s all I need. My life, my heart, my hands are wide open these days, trusting that God will fill them with His good and perfect gifts.

taking it all in

We recently went to the church that is in our neighborhood for Sunday morning. As I was preparing everything the night before and making sure my younger children took baths, I began noticing the sacredness of it all, even down to ironing clothes. And in my preparation, I felt like I was standing on holy ground. I had this lightness in my soul, my spirit. I felt open to receiving whatever God has for me and for my family.

And the next morning, everyone got up early, which is unusual in our house. We all hung out for a while around our dining room table with the gas logs flaming in the background.  I noticed it all: my laughing, talking teenage boys dressed in their clean jeans and polo shirts; my youngest Jeremiah just enjoying being part of it all,  and cool Julia dressed in her khaki cargo pants and white shirt with the pink lace around the bottom and her older brother’s shoes that we had found in the attic for her to wear for Halloween (she dressed as a gangster) that she has now adopted as her own. It was all good.

I took in all the joking and the excited talking and light-heartedness and breathed in deeply, holding it within my heart. It was a sacred, holy moment for me in the midst of our family.  It felt like my insides were smiling, and contentment just passed over me in waves.  We all wanted to be together in that moment.

After a while, I realized we needed to eat, so I began making biscuits and eggs, and as I rolled out dough, my fingers and hands sticky with it; that, too, felt lovely and divine. Loving my family by fixing food with my hands felt like standing in God’s presence. It was beautiful. I could taste the excitement for what is and what will be. And even as the morning rolled on, it had a sweetness to it. It wasn’t the craziness that usually goes along with Sunday mornings trying to get everyone out the door (you know what I’m talking about).

For me, noticing the sacred means slowing down and paying attention. It means being fully present, even in all the tiny moments in between the big change of life ones. It’s being fully alive and fully engaged in the life that I’ve been given. And being grateful for every part of it. Eugene Peterson says that “to eyes that see, every bush is a burning bush.”

Right now, as I stand in the present, I’m not worrying about the next hour, the next day, the next month, the next year. I’m enjoying the now and seeing the sacred in it all.

all too human

Worried…Restless…Dark…Doubt…Insecure…Fearful…Negative…Unlovely

Peace…Rest…Light…Trust…Safety…Love…Hope…Joy…Beloved…Lovely

Which list do I really want? Jesus says to those who are burdened to “Come, follow…” He says His burden is light. But I think some days I’d just rather go my own way than have to follow, than have to listen, even if His way promises peace. Sometimes I think I actually like the craziness of the first list. At any rate, I seem to be more familiar with it. It has a certain appeal, a certain drama to it. And some days, I just seem to be stuck in it.

On those days, when my crazy emotions and wild feelings are all over the place, I tend to want to dwell on the negative, the unlovely. I opt for the roller coaster ride of feelings. So, how do I get off once the ride has started?

There’s no how to. He speaks, and I know what He wants of me, but lately I can barely hear His voice. I know what my particular issue is…I’m not grounded. I have to be grounded in Him, which for me requires a level of time and discipline, which everything in me fights against. I extremely dislike schedules and having things on my calendar and being told what to do. And I actually can’t do it of my own accord; there’s a certain surrender in all of it.

But I’ve realized that my relationship with Him is the most important thing of all things, and I have to be disciplined about time for allowing Him to speak. Otherwise, I get muddied and clouded and distracted. And that’s where I’ve kind of been.

For me, it’s about getting back into nature, realizing that there is a bigger world out there that we’re all a part of. It’s feeling the breeze and hearing birds and leaves blow and contending with wasps and lady bugs (which really smell when they’re touched). It’s seeing the clouds, and not from inside my house looking out. It’s being a part of the beauty He created. It’s reading and praying and singing out loud and receiving. It’s being cold and sometimes getting my feet wet.

There’s no magic formula; I just know it when it is. And I’ve been missing it, trying to recapture what was, but which I’m not surrendered to at the moment. I’ve gotten distracted, and I miss Him, His voice, His beauty. I’ve tried to capture the peace that He gives without having Him infiltrate every part of my being, without giving Him all the parts of me, especially my precious time. And it’s not working. I want the benefits without having to follow, without having to die.

I know well the restlessness and doubt that have come from listening to the wrong voices in my head, and that the only way those voices can be muted is hearing from Him alone. Not trying, not striving…just being.

Be still, my soul…

Our heart is restless until is rests in You. -St. Augustine