Good Enough

Have you ever been in a season of “not good enough?”  Sometimes this is self-imposed whereby we recite the lies inside our heads that we are somehow lacking.  We don’t feel beautiful enough, skinny enough, interesting enough — we gobble these untruths as if they are good for us.  We tell ourselves that we are just being “honest.”  We are realists, not divas. 

Whoever said that self-depreciation was healthy?  It’s not!

God made each of us beautiful.  Not perfect, but beautiful.  

As a mom of three girls, I can tell you there is nothing more hurtful than to see their eyes downcast when, from time to time, they disparage the image in the mirror.  Measuring themselves against a worldly standard, they believe that perhaps they are not tall enough, complected right, their hair too wavy or straight… All I see is their incredible beauty.  Yes, I am biased.  But to me, any one of them could hands-down beat out the flash-in-the-pan upstart young women that don the magazine covers in the check out aisle. 

Not feeling good enough, of course, can come delivered in other ways too.  It can come handed down from generations who choose to believe they aren’t smart enough to go to college, or that being practical in life or in love means never getting your hopes up. People are taught to downplay their expectations, so that they don’t get disappointed. 

Or, maybe your expectations are just fine, but you’ve been disrespected, verbally or emotionally abused, and now it is ingrained in you that it’s best not think you are anything special…. Or else.

All of this, saddens me.

I wonder what God thinks of these scenarios?  He put His best work into creating us just the way He wanted.  We were made in His image.   But the world says we should all look like pixie sticks with big, false eyelashes and hair down to our butts.  How is this right?

My point is, I am enough. You are enough.  All God’s children are enough.  God put within each of us special gifts and qualities that are unique.  He expects us to use them, express them, be all that He created us to be. He doesn’t make junk.  

The world will evaluate our worth just like the pharisees looked at Jesus.  They couldn’t see His value because He didn’t fit a cookie-cutter mold.  He didn’t look like a king.  They were threatened by His image, by the magnificence of His common yet divine touch.  People loved Him, followed Him, worshiped Him… and they couldn’t understand it.  

The world is always ready to tell us what it means to be special, gifted, and beautiful.  And for some odd reason, we listen to it. 

I’ve been through seasons of hardship and heartache.  Things don’t always turn out the way we want.  We don’t always look our best. Our eyes get red and our make-up runs and our nails break and we need a dye job.  Sometimes our clothes aren’t exactly hip and our shoes too flat or clunky.

But we’re beautiful, even when we don’t feel like it. I don’t care what Cosmopolitan says.  God says we are.

To me, beauty —real beauty, is in your spirit.  It’s in your faithfulness, your honesty, the fact that you aren’t out there pretending to have it all together, or that you aren’t ashamed to admit that you have $18.38 to get you through til pay day.  It’s in your character, the unwavering way you stand up for your friend, your marriage, your co-worker.  It is praising God even when life has handed you lemons — not sugar to go with them. Just lemons. 

I’ve been told a time or two that I’m not enough.  It hurts like hell.  It’s double-dog-dare-ya time when you hear that echo in the back of your mind while sitting by yourself on a Saturday night in a movie theater crowded with couples.  It’s hard to fight the labels we are given while the world would rather list for us all the reasons why we should be different than we are.

All I know for sure, are the things that God says that I am.  I would rather be full of faith, knowing that He has plans for me, than to pour myself into some crazy outfit and sit on a bar stool somewhere to be told by a complete and utter stranger how “purdy” I am. That’s not the validation I need.

(Forgive me if that sounds trite)

All I need is the validation of knowing that I am on the path God put me on, and that it is leading me to better days. 

Girl, if you are reading this, and your hope or joy is running on empty, if you are feeling woefully or even partially insufficient, I want you to go right now and look in the mirror.  Look real hard.  And say this out loud:

I am a child of the Most High God.  I might not have it all figured out, but God does.  He has me. He knows me. He loves me! 

Stand in who you are and who God made you to be.  You are fearfully and wonderfully made.  

You are beautiful.  You are enough.

 a

I Surrender

The holidays are now behind and a new year stands brand spanking new before us… Now is the time of reflection — of appreciation for all that God has helped us to endure and of all that we hope for in the future.  We have plans to make, ideas to cultivate. 

Of course, life is always so much more complex than the lists we make of our goals and resolutions.  Writing something down, committing to it, requires more of us than just our good intentions.  It requires focus, action, consistency… I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I have been trying to lose the same ten pounds for seven or more years.  Still, it’s on there, right along with eating whole foods and organizing my closets and drawers.  Maybe - just maybe - I will get to cross these off in the months to come.

The thing about goals and resolutions, is that they don’t account for the messy stuff.  The breakdown of cars or marriages, the need for a kid to get through a difficult spot and for you to help them through it, job changes or losses… We get taxed in all kinds of ways emotionally, mentally and fiscally.  

Unless you are good friends with Tony Robbins or some other motivational guru, it’s difficult to stay pumped and focused.  We would like to think that “This time, by golly, nothing is going to stop me!”  But something does.  It almost always does.

Are we to simply give up before we even start?  Or are we just not even supposed to bother to make goals?  Heavens, no.  I think it is always good to have something we are working towards, saving for, or working on, even if it’s just ourselves.  

As for me, I have a pretty audacious set of things I am focusing on that I want to accomplish.  I’ve been through a lot these last couple years. I also have much that I am grateful for.  But I am entering a season of believing that the seeds that I have planted will finally come to harvest.  I am expectant, but I know that even in doing my part, God is the benefactor.

Good or bad, right or wrong, I know things will happen in this year that I will be powerless to do anything about.  No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I believe in myself, not all my efforts will be rewarded as I hope, while others will turn out even better.  

Juxtaposed with my every intention, my every wish, prayer, and goal, comes the very real truth that I am not in control.  I can only control my attitude, my faith, my obedience.  God will take all of this and do with it what only He can do. Supernaturally, things will happen and be achieved.  And, when they aren’t, I will still praise Him.  

I am writing this to say that I surrender.  Not in a giving up sort of way, but in the understanding that not everything that I put on my list will happen as I’d like. It will instead turn out as God deems for my life and the plans He has for it. He knows the end from the beginning, and I can only choose to walk the path in the direction my heart is led and expect to see His hand in all that is to come. 

I will never stop striving for better days, better relationships, provision, and success in my endeavors.  God wants this of us.  He wants to see our faith in action and to know that we will use our gifts, mixed with what He has placed within us, to achieve things big and small. 

But I surrender every outcome to Him. 

The best words I know about this come from the Serenity Prayer ~

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, 

the courage to change the things I can, 

and the wisdom to know the difference.  

May this new year bring you all that your heart desires.  And even in your disappointments, never forget that He has you, He knows you, and He loves you.

I Know It's True

Have you ever wondered how it is that two people can be looking at the same exact information and arrive at two opposite conclusions?  Maybe you have a friend who sits on the other side politically.  Perhaps you have tried as I have to interpret their reasoning for what they believe, only to wonder how your friendship can survive such discrepancy of opinion.  Or maybe your conflict is more personal, relational, whereby a disagreement is so deep rooted that one or both of you are no longer even able to communicate.

We all have these issues in our lives, no matter how open-minded we claim to be.  We are not always as empathic as we intend.  We are not always willing to bend from our positions of who is right and who is wrong.  In our eyes, we are always right.  In our minds, it’s the other person who needs to change, be awakened, to conform.

I hate to admit it, but I am guilty.  Although I like to think that I give someone the benefit of the doubt, it’s not always the case.  I am tarnished by past experiences.  I am hardcore about certain things, like faithfulness, honesty, and issues of character, that cause me to bristle at perceived breaches of trust.  I hate bias, and yet I know that I have it about things that, in the past, affected me.  Sometimes, for me, someone may well be guilty until proven innocent.

Not the best representation of grace and mercy, to be sure.  And yet, we all do it. 

I am trying to understand why this is. As passionate people, we have strong feelings about certain things.  We have no tolerance for injustice, child abuse, mistreatment of animals, violence or abuse of any kind to anybody… Betrayal and abandonment also rank high for me.

I don’t believe that in all things we are to turn the other other cheek. But in most things, common things, issues of conflict and perspective, there are two sides to every story.

We don’t always know another’s life experience.  Everyone we meet, under the surface, has a paradigm for how they see the world and interact.  This is true about race, about politics, culture, and sin.  What is morally acceptable to one person’s values can be completely rejected by another.  Even within the Church, there are degrees of interpretation as to what is deemed appropriate and what is not.  

How are we to know?

I believe that God gives us discernment.  Of course, we also have free will to do and think and act according to our principals and character.  We have a set of standards and people who know us well, know where we stand based on our values and how we live our lives.  For many of us, there are unconditional boundaries of right and wrong.  Others are less willing to commit, leading a more “live and let live” existence.  

The truth is, when we let the world dictate our values, and not God, we will always be divided.  The world will give us standards of acceptability. It will tell us the importance we should place on our happiness, blurring the lines of moral code when it comes to sin.  Just because “everybody does it,” should not be the measuring stick by which we make decisions. 

And yet, that is exactly what happens. 

I am challenged by this daily within my own life.  People that I love and care about deeply, succumb to the notion that righteousness is negotiable.  As if God is okay with the breaking of covenants, dishonesty, and margins for error when it comes to honoring relationships with integrity.

I don’t believe this is how God intended it.

God gives us commands to love, honor, and protect one another.  He gives us wise counsel, His Word, His Spirit to guide us, shape us, and keep our feet upon the right path.  This makes living less complicated, not more.  It gives us more freedom, not less, because we don’t need to waste time and energy wandering in the desert of gray areas.  What’s right is right.  We know this instinctively.

My point is this —  I have taught my kids that God’s rules are pretty simple, pretty straight forward.  Aligning ourselves by living according to His ways, means that we will be honest, trustworthy, kind, respectful, loyal, and true.  We will walk by faith and not by sight.  We will take the high road, not the path of least resistance.

Are we perfect?  No.  Will we make mistakes?  Absolutely.  Will we still sin?  Most assuredly.  But God knows our hearts. He will bring us back into righteousness when we fail.

We might not always agree with our neighbor, or even family, about issues or life.  We might see things completely opposite of someone else about what is culturally acceptable or attractive.  Our tastes will vary and our ideals will be questioned.

But if we live our lives cognizant of what God would have us do, not the world, we can know that by standing in His ways we will never need to question what is right. 

We all want to get along.  We all want to be validated, loved and accepted.  We may need to sway and bend from time to time in our judgment of frivolous things because they are important to someone else.  We may need to acquire broader horizons in our tastes and play along and be a good sport for the betterment of our relationships.  Even politically, we may acquiesce, working harder to see another’s point of view. 

But when it comes to righteousness, to making decisions of doing what God would have us do versus what the world says, choose God. It is the only way that I know to be true. 

He is the only one is always right. 

No More Boxes

I’m not sure how these things come to me, but when they do I have to pay attention.  Usually, when something hits me like this - a phrase, an idea - it’s simple.  The earth does not quake or an alert does not come across my cell phone.   It just sort of pops in my head, with a supercharged clarity, not like a normal thought.

Such was the case with the phrase “No more boxes.”  It hit me during the night, waking me up.  And, for the next several hours, it did not leave my spirit.  Each awakening brought a new insight.

Surely, this time of year we all need boxes.  Wrapping and mailing and doing what the season calls us to do as we make merry and spread Christmas cheer.  We’re either in short supply, reusing, or running off to buy more.  Funny how such a commodity waxes as wanes.  Come January, we will likely not think of our need for them again until next year at this time.

But the kind that I am referring to here is different.

Have you ever noticed the boxes that we think define who we are?  We put ourselves in them - confining our roles, our purposes, our intentions into neatly compartmentalized segments.  We are moms, wives, exes, friends, daughters, teachers, nurses, … We have self-concepts of ourselves, and of how it is that we affect others within these roles.  Hopefully, we see these as positive.

But what happens when our boxes - our roles - become stomped on, changed, ripped apart by some event or trauma?  What happens when we lose a relationship, a job, a career, and all that is left is our scattered identity that we feel desperate to mend?

What happens when it is our first — or second, or third — Christmas, and the “boxes” around our tree no longer have the names that we still hold dear but have no physical bond to?  Death, separation, breaches of trust and betrayal…. Hurts and heartaches all have tags on them, but are hard to wrap.  These are difficult, cumbersome realities for many of us who long for healing.

What I believe was the message of my midnight revelation, is that God does not want us to be so confined by what was.  What He has for us, what He is bringing us to, is greater than our old boxes could contain.  In fact, He wants us to think beyond our “used to be’s” and believe that He is bringing us to new — opportunities, relationships, and restorations — that are not specified by dimensions we have possibly ever known.

God wants us to think outside the box. To expect bigger, better gifts of His mercy, His grace, His healing.   

How can this be??  All I know is that we are not to stay in our seasons of mourning.  We also are not to limit God in what He can and will do.  The gifts that He has for us are tied up in the Faith that what He is bringing is better.

I know the tendency we have to look down at our feet, to hold within our self-concepts all the broken boxes, things that did not work out as we hoped.  We hold an imagined scale that weighs all the broken relationships, dreams that never quite materialized or were taken from us, job losses, illnesses, friends or family for whom we carry burdens for, and we wonder at the condition of our lives.

God wants us to lay all of these at his feet.  He wants us to not be defined by our brokenness, but to see what He will do with it.  He wants us to look up and to expect to see His hand healing us, redefining our purpose, and creating new possibilities that are more than we can hope for or imagine.

I realize that all of this is easier said than done.

I don’t know all that my tomorrows will bring.  I have work to do when it comes to letting go of certain things and people that have hurt me in the past, those I’ve loved and lost, and all my shortcomings.  All I know is that I am ready to no longer be defined by them.  I am expectant that God is mending me, changing me, and has plans for me. 

I pray that for all who are reading this, that your Christmas is Merry and Bright.  I pray that among the gifts that you receive this year, that Hope, Peace, and Healing are among them in abundance.  This is why God sent His son to us.

He is calling us to Believe. 

No more empty, broken boxes, my friends.  Let’s lay them at His feet and be wrapped in the Promise that He is making all things new.

Merry Christmas. 

Hearts Still Break

Did you ever notice that heartbreak has a template? It doesn’t matter what generation we belong to.  Whether it is the unrequited crush of young love, or it is one of a more seasoned specimen suffering through an unraveling of many years, it is the same. 

I realized this recently while speaking to my youngest about her trails and tribulations. She, of course, is new to this game called Life, and I am not so much.  Perhaps you have also had the experience of being told via the occasional eye roll that you “don’t understand.” But you know that you do.  You have seen this movie before.

It’s hard, I admit, to fully conceal that the things we say are not really about them, but about us.  Our hearts have been broken, too.  We know the road signs, the red flags, the betrayals of seemingly innocuous things cloaked in acceptability, just so that someone won’t have to be accountable for what they’ve done. These are the same, whether you wear big girl pants or are still in pull-ups.  It stinks.

I’ve come to understand that fear rules where faith is absent.  Some people are just afraid to miss something, so they are always on the lookout for an opening to find better — a better friend, job, opportunity, or even marriage.  It’s like there exists an invisible scoreboard.  If enough little tick-marks in one direction or another happen, it somehow justifies behavior that causes another person to get hurt.  It’s amazing to me.

I’ve taught my kids the golden rule of “treating others the way you want to be treated.” I’ve also said, at least a thousand times, that there is never a reason good enough to break someone’s heart.  Unfortunately, this did nothing to inoculate them against these very things happening to them.  It didn’t inoculate me, either.  

So now, I preach a new, updated version of this mantra. It’s more of a revelation, really —  When someone does something contrary to what good character or integrity would dictate, it says more about them, than us.  It defines them, the quality of their principles, not ours.  And though saying this doesn’t make it easier to bear,  it does put the blame where it belongs.

The thing about betrayal, is that it casts a long shadow.  And, worse, it causes that inevitable struggle whereby we question — What is wrong with me?  Why am I not enough?  This is so unfortunate.  Have you ever tried to convince someone you love that they are worthy of love, kindness and respect, when their hurtful circumstance screams otherwise?  Perhaps you know this first hand. 

We cannot understand the ways of man.  There are people who will hurt us, intentionally or with malice, and have no conscience doing so.  It will shock us, taking our breath away, whether that hurt comes from a casual friend or a loved one you have built your world around.  There are no rules apparently for those who make things up as they go.  They simply say “That’s life,” as if it covers a multitude of sins.

It doesn’t.

God intends for us to live in accordance with His ways.  He wants us to love each other, deeply.  To be kind, to look out for our neighbor, to honor covenants and relationships that are intended to make our journey in this life richer. 

It’s just that not everyone does this.  They live according to what the world says, not God.  They exchange values, such as faithfulness and loyalty, for whatever looks to be more advantageous or fun in the moment.

We’ve all had this done to us.  And in someways, big or small, intentionally or innocent, we’ve done it to others too.

We can’t insure that people will treat us the way that we want to be treated.  All we can do is not be swayed from doing this ourselves.  We cannot let the hurt that others have caused incite us act the same way.

I wish there was an antidote to a broken heart.  I wish that, whether we are big or little, wise or foolish, young or old, we could be protected from the injury of what others will do in their selfishness.

All I do know is this — God doesn’t cause what happens to us at another’s hand.  He hurts when we hurt.  He hears our cries and He responds to our prayers, even when it’s hard to see Him at work.  He goes ahead of us, so that one day, we can find a purpose for what we’ve endured. 

We learn a thing or two when life presents hurt or difficulty.  We gain wisdom and strength and fortitude.  We gain perspective and a knowing that not everyone can be trusted with our hearts.

Whatever you are in the middle of right now that is causing you to feel betrayed, lonely, grieved, or circumspect, know that this is a season that will not last.  God is bringing you through it, and somehow, some way, He will give you beauty for your ashes.

How do I know?  Because my heart has been through it all before.  I know the template.  And I know how God has always brought me to something better.  It’s just a matter of time.

I don’t think we ever become immune to heartache.  All I know is that God surrounds us in it and He makes all things new again.

Even broken hearts. 

The Angel at the Top

It’s that time of year when we are busy decking the halls (I’m still not entirely sure what that means, but… tis’ the season to do it.)  Fa la la la la.  

Its a little different for me this year. It seems all of my four children are in a life transition.  All of it is good, but definitely they are in a phase whereby the expectation of the season involves their growing, while mine is cutting back.  Its a pretty good bet, that until grandchildren come someday, my days of waiting for Santa are on hiatus.  

There has been another transition too that I discovered as I dragged down from my attic all the bins labeled in black marker, “Xmas.”  Every December, I begin the task of recreating a winter wonderland of nick knacks and special whatnots that have been a part of our Christmases for years.  I would be lying if I did not admit that this brings about a certain sadness mixed with comfort, as unlike years past, my little ones are no longer rocking around my Christmas tree. I’m pretty much on my own here.

Such is the fate of our angel, the one that adorned the top of whatever tree we selected to grace the same space in my living room for decades.  She, unfortunately, succumbed to the demise that all electronic gizmos eventually do, and stopped working.  No longer does light shine out of her hands, illuminating her dress.  No longer does the serenity of her ceramic face seem, well… angelic.                   

My quest to find a replacement had me trek back and forth from one store to another, settling on a smaller, less “holy” version.  (It seems China may have skipped the step in manufacturing that makes angels appear benevolent, rather than apathetic.)

The thing about all this, is not, of course, the angel.  I don’t need a doll-like figure at the top of my tree to signify what is in my heart.  I know that the reason for the season is the birth of Christ.  I know that, in reflection, because of Him, I have so very much to be thankful for.  I have blessings beyond measure for which I am eternally grateful.

It’s more, I think, that transitions always have consequences that can be a bit difficult.  That doesn’t mean that they are not good or healthy.  It is just that they come at the expense of letting go of old comforts, versions of ourselves and of our lives that are sometimes hard to do.  

With every year of setting up a tree, with every ornament hung, hearing the music in the background that accompanies this ritual, I can’t help but think of so many other Christmas seasons that were flush with excitement, with love overflowing, with lists and hot chocolate and Good Behavior Charts.

My house is a much quieter, subdued ode to this tradition now. 

It kind of makes me wonder, if maybe the spirit of that old, wonderful angel didn’t just quit working, but rather decided to go off in search of another, livelier home where frolicking still abounds.  

The truth is, what I know about the Season, is that there is wonder and light and renewal.  The joy we have is for what God is doing in us, for us, and around us.  We can dwell in our difficulties, or thank God that He is bringing us out of them.  We can be grateful for Christmases past, and look forward to what He is bringing us to that we will rejoice in the future.  And we can find joy in what we have before us right now, even when the angel on top of our tree looks a little less than what we imagine she should.

How do we push past the memories, the days of yesteryear when all was jolly and bright, and not feel a touch of sadness?  I honestly wish I knew.  Sometimes, we are allowed to be melancholy, as long as we don’t stop believing that God is not done with us or or circumstances.  

It helps to think of the very first Christmas.  You know the one.  Jesus was in a manger, and Mary’s birthing suite was a far cry from luxury.  She didn’t have an epidural or monitors, and I’m pretty sure that Joseph wasn’t rubbing her back, coaching her how to breathe.  All she had was the promise that what she was carrying, her son, would be the Light of the World. 

It’s the same for us.  Sometimes, the promise is all we have.

He would come so that we can stand in faith and know that in Him we are not alone.  He is in all our joys, all our sorrows, all our transitions… He is growing us, changing us, moving us so that we can experience more of Him, not less.  And, in giving to us, we are to give to others so that they may also experience hope and grace and belonging.

Maybe that is the lesson here. Not the hustle and bustle.  Not the animation of perfect holiday cheer.  Maybe it is in the quiet, after all.  And in the remembering of all that He has done for us.  

Maybe the angel is there to remind us to look up, to thank Him, to share with Him all that we hope for and believe.

Sometimes, the best gifts are those we don’t deserve but are given to us because we are loved. Naughty or nice, happy or sad… we are His.  

May your heart overflow with glad tidings regardless of what is beneath or around your tree.  And may the angel on top always remind you that things are not always what they look like, but what He is doing in our midst even when we don’t see it yet. 

Rejoice, therefore, in all that was, all that is, and all that is to come. 

The Wait

One of the hardest things to do, I think, is to wait.  In a line at the grocery story, in traffic, for resources that we needed yesterday… Waiting challenges us, bringing out our latent tendencies to scowl and fret. 

When what we yearn for, need, and desire is greater, more imperative, the conflict within our spirit is heightened and aroused to the point of fight or flight.  We are on the look-out, waiting for a sign that God is working, eager to declare a victory that may not be anywhere in sight.  How do we keep calm, maintain order and optimism, when everything in our world feels like it is falling apart? That is the question. 

We all have one.  Somewhere, deep within us is a groaning, a prayer that is so desperate that we are afraid even to put words to it.  We can barely profess it, not wanting to give it a voice as if embarrassed just by the sheer audacity of what we yearn for.

We listen to those that love us, hearing their intentions, wanting to believe their encouragement for us.  We even preach to ourselves, knowing that God has come through for us in the past and that He will come through for us again.  Still, we hold our breath.  What if He doesn’t?

There are things in my heart that make no sense.  Plenty of things that on the surface seem so apparent, there is no way anyone could possibly see an outcome other than what the world says will happen. There is nothing of substance to support the thing that my spirit beckons me to believe. 

Yet it comes to me and night, nudging me awake, “Don’t give up.”

I wonder if resignation is less about giving up, than giving in.  We give up the outward appearance and actions of pursuing an outcome, and give in to letting God do things His way.  I have come to understand that nothing — nothing — that I have cherished most came about by my own hand.  Those most serendipitous, blissful moments came fully by His doing.  Meeting someone that would affect my life, falling in love, giving birth… All came at His discretion.  

We cannot force our way through a crowded parking lot.  We cannot make someone love us back.  We can’t snap our fingers and cause a cold or cancer to go away.  We can’t take away the burden of someone we care about.  We can’t rescue, no matter how hard we try, someone from a path that clearly has danger written all over it.

All we can do is give in to giving it all to God and letting Him do what only He can do.  We have to wait it out.

God is the God of impossibility.  He renders His verdict, His outcome, on everything we do and believe for in this life.  He moves mountains.  He calms the storm.  He heals us, mercifully, miraculously, wonderfully.  He provides for us sustenance, feeding us, when all we have is a little bit of bread and a couple of fishes.  

It’s just that He does it in His time, in His way.  And that is the the hard part.

To all of you who I know are waiting on Him, don’t give up.  I know that it feels like you have been walking in the desert for forty years.  I’ve seen you here; we travel in the same circles.  We are watching the horizon for what God has promised us.  We just can’t know the tracking number as to when He will deliver it.

But He will.  Without fail, He will come and it will be right on time.  All the dots will be connected.  All the groaning of our spirit will come with an acceptance and understanding of why it sometimes seems to take so long.  It’s because, I believe, that what is coming will be worth the wait.

In our seasons of waiting, God is tempering us.  He’s readying us.  He’s perfecting us, even when it looks like we are striped of everything we used to know.  We have to be emptied, so that He can fill us up again.

Don’t give up on what God has not released you from believing for.  Just give in to knowing He knows what He is doing.

Be patient. Wait for it.  His word does not return void.

Don’t give up.

Can You Hear Me Now?

I often have conversations in my head, as though I am trying to explain to myself what I’m feeling or sensing about a particular situation.  It’s just part of the process I go through as I make my way on this journey I am on.  It’s the same for all of us, I guess.  We all have a secret dialog inside our noggin, trying to figure things out as we go. 

It’s not so much that it is odd (it’s not) as it is that it is so loud. Or maybe it is just that I am listening more acutely, trying harder to hear God in the midst of my own pervasive ramblings.

I’ve spent most of my adult life attached to someone to whom these sort of thoughts were voiced, quietly bantered about, finding the ebb and flow that went along with his thoughts and ideas.  We had been melded that way, and what we wanted and needed for the betterment of our family was the natural sinew that bound us together.  Our thoughts were blended, nearly automatic. Until they weren’t anymore.

Sometimes you go through a season where everything gets shaken from the roots. Like a tree, you feel as though you have been striped of your fruit, your branches pruned or broken; all that you had counted on lay like leaves fallen to the ground.  You can’t bend enough to find your old shape again.  You can’t reattach those parts of you that have been taken away.  You are once again a sapling, fighting for sustenance, for relevance, for identity.

As we rediscover ourselves, we have to get used to our own voice again. We need to accept that we are relevant, that what we have to say matters. In our life transitions, we tend to look in the mirror and wonder — what happened to that once bountiful, confident version of ourselves?  How could this cropped replica ever thrive again? Surely, our best days are in the past. Or so we think. 

That’s when this voice, this dialog, begins, ever-gaining in volume.  We are learning how to be alone, to listen to what we know is right, reasserting who we are, detangling from the negative thoughts, emotions, and feelings that may have plagued us in the aftermath of transition.  We start to tease out the weeds of old ways.  New thoughts, new ideas, new transformation starts to take hold.  We slowly start to understand that God is rising us up from the ashes and putting a new song in our hearts.  We are no longer simply what we were, but becoming a new and improved version. 

Like a trumpet blast, we cannot ignore these new thoughts that tear down old walls and triumphantly announce that we really are okay.  We are more than survivors.  We emerge with new purpose, a new confidence. Who we used to be is being replaced by a refined and more resilient us.  

What I have come to understand is that God has our identity in His hands.  He loves us and knows us. He knows our past, the storms that will wreck us, and He knows what’s ahead.  He’s patient with us as we plod along, getting lost in memories and what used-to-be’s so that when we are ready, we can step into a clearing of what-will-be’s, where He’s already gotten things in order for us.

Perhaps you can’t see it, yet alone believe it. But from what has felt like scorched earth, God is raising you up for new growth. There are new possibilities, second chances, and renewed ways of doing things that will have relevance in your new season.  Slowly, you will begin to recognize that you have hope again for what tomorrow will bring.

Make no mistake, all of this is painful.  But one day, what was will fall away, and all you will hear is your new voice co-existing with His, and it is loud and clear.

“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you hope and a new future.”  Jeremiah 29:11 

Can you hear it?  It starts as a whisper and crescendos the closer you get to finally letting go of what used to be.

Your voice — you — are beautiful to God. He is always listening. Praise Him in the storm and be expectant for the sound of triumph. 

It’s coming!

Stuff Happens

Isn’t it odd how we think that life should roll along in a tidy continuum of events, all neatly packaged and contained?  With hard-starts and stops, like school years, our seasons are supposed to have definite beginnings and endings.  We think we should be able to get through things —  a transition, a difficulty, or even a celebration, and life is just supposed to bounce back to normal when it’s over. 

Where do we get such crazy ideas?

If you’ve ever been inside my attic, you would understand how life is so not that way.  Maybe it’s just me, but the door that barricades my life antiquities should come with a caution sign — “Enter at Your Own Risk.”  Perhaps donning a miners hat and carrying a canary on your shoulder would not be a bad idea either.

It’s not that I’m a hoarder.  I promise you, I’m not.  It’s just that I’m a mom who had four kids.  All of them had toys, special cuddly things, books, and VHS tapes.  There are boxes of photographs, kids drawings, notes, cards, mementoes of every kind.  There are guitars and bongo drums, head boards and a bassinet, suitcases and humidifiers.  And games.  Tons of games. And that’s just the beginning.  

All of it, memories. 

There is so much that we hold on to, not because we think we will use any of it again, but because we think that somehow it keeps that part of us still valid, connected in some way. Looking at the little feet of well worn pajamas proves that I was once a young mom, I was in control; and though they are all now young adults, I have proof that my kids were once cradled in my arms. We were a family then, too; whole, not separated by events that we would rather had not occurred, yearning to have another crack at figuring out alternatives.  

But we can’t, of course. So we tuck these little representations deep within the recesses of our hearts, our homes, and we look at them now and then and remember what we think was a simpler time.

Nothing in life is tidy.  Things, emotions, spill over like the fraying box of Christmas decorations that never quite go back together as they used to.  The world will tell us when seasons are over, ignoring emotions that are supposed dissipate as if they never existed.  “Moving on,” is a tag line for “Get over it and be done already.”

Somewhere, we came to believe that once signatures appear on papers, or people die or move away, or we marry off our children, that all feelings should end.  Transitions should be seamless, even when they are forced upon us.  Healings should be automatic occurrences, just because we say so. Consequences should resolve once everyone comes to terms with what transpired.   

Wars end, babies are birthed, people vow “i do,” or separate. But that doesn’t stop what flows afterward.  There is always more to do; there is always more to contend with.  Always.  I think we forget that.  The event is only the beginning, not the end. 

And that makes life messy.  It means attics have lots of things to store because we don’t quite know what to do with it all.  We don’t want to lose the past even when we know we can’t take it with us into the future.

We upsize and downsize.  We purge our closets, but not our wedding dresses.  We throw out old socks, but not the booties our babies came home in from the hospital.  We hold on to our grandmother’s old sweater, but box and donate our own. 

God created us to be sentimental.  He gave us feelings. He doesn’t mind that when we bury our noses into a box of hand-me-downs, getting a whiff of Dreft or someone’s perfume or cologne, that we cry just a little bit.  He understands the longing of our hearts.   

In the midst of it all, He’s there, in every unfolding; growing us, changing us, and rolling us forward as we walk through this life.  He’s in the cadence of our hearts when they beat with anticipation, or when they break; as they assume new loves or resolve to no longer linger over old ones.  He is there.  And He knows it all.  And it is good.

I think God’s okay with our holding on to things that help us to remember a different time.  He gave us these.  I would guess that He would also want for us to be aware of Him, knowing that He is always bringing us through it; that He knows what is best, even when it hurts.

See, I am doing a new thing!  Isaiah 43:19

Life is messy.  I think it’s okay if the lids on all our boxes don’t seem to contain it all.  It’s okay too if we have emotional days, moments of melancholy.  It’s okay if we miss people, grieve our mistakes, have wistful moments of happy mixed with sad.  It’s okay if our attics are not color coded and our containers neatly stored.

It’s all part of life.  Stuff happens. And He is in the midst of it all. 

Giving Her Away

My daughter is getting married.  My first born, my first to tie the knot.  When you hold your infant, fresh from the womb and from the miracle of God’s handiwork, you can never imagine this day will come.  But it does, and in a flash it somehow all makes sense.

All the earaches, skinned knees, a broken arm or two… All the bedtime stories, bedside chats, practicing for spelling tests and times tables, laughter sprinkled like pixy dust over the silliest and simplest things, family fun nights, and learning how to drive…  Hurts that could not be fixed with bandaids, ice packs, or ibuprofen, but with listening, love, and a few tears.  These are the moments, the dots that connect us one to the other, heart to heart, forever and forever.

My heart crumples at the thought, anticipating the words that I will hear, “Who gives this woman away….?”  I do.  But how can he know, the man who waits for her at he end of an aisle, all that she was before he met her?  Or all that she will become now that he has?

Although her dad will hand her off, I give my precious daughter to the man who will love her with a heart as big as hers.  He will cherish her, respect her, honor her, build her up, nurture her. He will see her through all those good times and the bad.  He will not waffle.  He will pray with her, be faithful to her, and see life through with her.  He will.  I can see it when I look into his eyes, and I believe him.  I trust him.  I love him.  I’ve prayed for him all her life.

There are things that I wish that I could change, do over, make better.  In moments like these, life rewinds and comes flooding back in waves of emotion, some sad but mostly happy.  And proud.  How very proud I am of who this young woman is that I had the privilege to bear.  She is the best of us, we who loved her into existence.  But so much more than we are all at the same time.

How can you give away one who is tethered to you by an umbilical cord of spirit, unconditional love, and a promise that you will be there for her until your last breath?  It can’t be done.  It can only be augmented by a love that grows with her, wrapping around her and her soon to be husband and their someday family, until it would seem my heart might burst.

I have four wonderful, beautiful children, all who will have their day of my giving them away.  Emma is, again, my first.  She gets to break the mold, just as she was the first to make me a mom; the first to expand who I was so that I could become more, just because she needed me.

All I have are words to paint the pictures of my life; to share in snippets what I have learned while living it.  And yet, at a time like this, words seem so inadequate.  I need a soundtrack, a chorus of hallelujahs and amens, for all that God has blessed me with, for all the love I have for this girl who, at just five pounds and seven ounces, changed my world one October day.

God is so, so good to us.  The Bible says that “gray hair is the crown of splendor.” (I don’t think He minds that I cover mine.)   I don’t think He will mind that I will shed a few tears on a day that will be for her the happiest day of her life.  I know He is in all of it.

My favorite Scripture, is Proverbs 3:5-6.  “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make all your paths straight.”

These words have fortified me, sustained me, tempered me, guided me.

It is with these words, that I give my daughter to one who will be my son-in-law, dedicating her to the path that is before them.

I have come to understand, that it is always in giving that we receive. I know this day is only the beginning of more that are to come. 

If God were to ever ask me, if I know how much He has blessed me in my life, I will say without missing a beat. “Yes, Lord.  Thank you.”

I do. 

Pumpkin Spice Lattes and Other Things I Don't Understand

I don’t want to make any enemies here.  I don’t want to diss any of you who follow me and who, hopefully, can sense a camaraderie of spirit.  But I just have to say this: I don’t get the whole pumpkin craze once the calendar turns towards Fall.

Don’t get me wrong.  I think it’s cool when the Spice of Autumn presents itself on every food and drink menu one can possibly think of.  From coffee to cake, soup to sangria, it’s the craze.  Lots of people that I know can’t wait for the moment they can once again announce to their palates, and their FaceBook pages, that pumpkin has made it’s arrival.

I, on the other hand, am pretty conventional. Give me a mocha anything, anytime, and I’m good. 

To take this topic and smash it to smithereens, please indulge me for just a second.  I think I finally got a whiff of what it is that bothers me about pumpkins.  They are beautiful, bright and fun.  They look awesome carved on my front step, a candle flickering inside them.  I love the displays and arrangements that speak of harvest and giving thanks.

It’s just that there is so much hoopla over something that is so temporary.  

I don’t know about you, but I like staple things.  A creature of habit, I like my tried and true foods, whether for comfort or just because I know them well and they suit my taste.  I know what to expect from my beef stew or my roasted chicken.  I like regular Lipton tea in a bag, steeped to just the right color.  I’m not exactly a “meat and potato” gal, but going out for sushi would not be my first choice either.  Maybe it makes me boring, but I like things on the regular.

It’s the same rule that I apply to people.  I like when you can count on someone — their word, their being there, their adherence to principal and integrity.  I’m not big on folks who make promises they don’t keep, who come in looking all fine and smelling like the fragrance of the month, only to prove they are all hat and no cattle.  

I get that this is a stretch.  I mean, seriously, I can see most of you now shaking your heads.  But hear me out.  

Pumpkins are hard on the outside and empty on the inside.  It takes some work to pick out the perfect one, clean them up, make them smile or scare, and prop them at your doorstep.  And then, in a week, they whither and cave and stay at your threshold well beyond the time you should toss them out.  (At least, that’s what happens at my house.)

This is not a case against pumpkins.  I love them.  Really.  It’s just that, like some people, we can put a lot of effort into making them just right, taking our selfies, wining and dining with them, and promoting them as the reason for our bliss.  We get caught up in believing something is going to last forever, and before you know it, their season is over.

I am just saying, be careful of the pumpkins in your life that are all in it for the fun and not for the long haul.  We all need folks who come and sprinkle a little bit of frivolity, a little laughter and levity, and they go on their merry way.  But its the others, the ones who bear fruit, who are loyal, who are honest, who know just the right things to say and do when you need them most, these come with us from one season to the next. 

True friendships, sustainable relationships, are not just a flash in the in the pan.  They bring life to our spirits.  Our thankfulness for them should be a constant reminder of God’s blessings.  I am so grateful for the friends and relationships I have, those that have gone around the block with me and are still thriving.

I know I’ve poked a bit of fun at all you pumpkin connoisseurs.  I love your enthusiasm.  I smile at the confident way you order your lattes, lapping up the full flavor of the season, and sharing it with all of us who’s tastebuds have not yet caught on to what the fuss is all about.  I salute you!

How awesome God is to give us these simple pleasures to spice things up a bit.  But at the end of the day, it’s nice to know too that some things are predicable, tried, and true.

Always remember, it is from Him that all good things come — yes, even pumpkins.

It Doesn't Make it Right

The spirit of offense is a tricky one.  It comes disguised in seemingly innocuous ways. Brought on by a simple comment or action, we spin, coming up with all the hidden meanings and reasons why we should be slighted.

On the other side, when someone takes our words or deeds out of context, when the wrath of one’s anger gets released upon us, it can slap hard like a cold winter wind upon our countenance.  It bothers and befuddles us, causing us to wonder how our intentions could be so misconstrued.

When we are on the receiving end, we can see how easily things — feelings, emotions, pride — can unravel.  We ruminate on what was said and how egregious it was.  We go over and over it in our minds, conjuring up the perfect comeback.

This is the precipice from which relationships jump into the abyss of destruction.  

We all understand that hurt people, hurt people.  When we are anxious or afraid, we lash out.  On the causal spectrum, people can harbor deep resentments and even deeper insecurities that cause them to act out in all kinds of ways.  We do it.  And we have had it done to us. 

In a perfect world, keeping this in perspective would be helpful.  We might allow others a wider  margin for their responses or actions if we knew what they had been through.  It just doesn’t always work that way.

In my own life, when someone that I care about has slung the arrows of blame and retribution, it’s all that I can do to not let them land, reopening wounds and difficult emotions.  When you have shared deep relationship, and then are disregarded, mocked, and disrespected, it hurts. History is edited.  Accusations fire beyond the pale of reasonability. This type of wounding leaves a mark.  

I wish there was an easy answer.  What I have come to know is that the truth always will reveal itself in time.  I know that God is our defender.  I know that He alone can change someone’s heart and perspective.  No matter how much we might want to influence the the paradigm by which another sees us, we are absolutely powerless to do so.

It’s times like these that we have to dig deep.  We have to trust that God knows our intentions.   And, though others may malign us and seek to harm us with their words, God is there.  

The truth is, when someone lashes out at us, it says more about them, than us.  It says that underneath, they are in need of some healing, some deliverance from pain that causes them to blame and to project, rather than looking inward or taking accountability for their own actions.

If we keep our eyes on God, rooting ourselves in His ways, we can have Grace.  We can release our hurt to Him and not seek to sling arrows of our own.  We will be quick to forgive and offer an olive branch, regardless of whether or not it is accepted in return.

Saying this, doing all we can to stay in faith in our daily walk, does not make it right what others say and do to us in their anger and offense.  It doesn’t make it easier to bear.  It only challenges us all the more to walk in knowing that somehow, someway God is going to turn things for our good.

We do not know, in the twists and turns of life, how things will go.  People who think that their actions are isolated, that they have no affect on others, are wrong.  Hurting someone else affects, not just that person, but those who care about them.  Importantly, it also hurts the one who causes it, because bitterness can take hold and fester within the spirit, stealing joy and breeding contempt that can last a lifetime.

Tread lightly on the path of those who choose to see you with the lens of their misperception.  Remember that the fight is not yours, but God’s.  And, even though it may not change what happens in the immediate, love them anyway as best you can from a distance.  Forgive them.  Do your best to shake the dust from your sandals and carry on.

In time, that love, along with God’s hand, will reach them.

It doesn’t make it right.  But it makes all the difference in the world.   

We All Have One

I meet many people through work and in my community of church, friends and family, and I often hear testimonies of what folks have endured.  These are the kind that tug at your spirit, the kind you don’t easily forget because you know that they are true. They tell of tragedy or other life experiences that have required more than a little faith and a healthy dose of courage.

When someone bears their soul, there is a voice inside your head that says, “I can’t imagine going through that…”

I’ve heard it said that if you were to put down your burdens and pick up another’s for a day, you will gladly put theirs down and pick your own up again.  It’s not that yours are not difficult.  It’s just that yours are, well, yours.  You know them.  You know how to balance your concerns and what you have to do tend to them.  Overwhelming as they sometimes are, they belong to you.

We all have a story, and God provides each of us uniquely with what we need to triumph in it.

My point is that everyone — everyone — carries with them something that burdens their heart.  We all grieve someone, miss someone, feel insufficient, require a resource, are praying for healing, a mending, a bonding of relationship.  We all have people we love and care about who need a breakthrough of some sort or another. 

Although the names and degrees of what we must endure may vary, at our core we all are the same.  

Empathy is our ability to feel another’s pain, to understand their plight, to have sensitivity to their feelings and their needs.  It’s the glue that fills in the gap between our life situations and theirs, and pulls us close in spirit.  Though we may not have the words to say, we can bond with someone even in silence, letting them know we understand. 

To the contrary, when someone lacks empathy, they are disengaged, often selfish, and insensitive.  Our hurts are magnified when people that we think should care for us, offer nothing but their thinly veiled dismissal of our plight. Not the best people to count on when the chips are down.

Sometimes, we are only meant to bear witness to someone’s needs, to hear their heart, to pray for them. Other times, if it is within our means and relationship to do more, God will lead us as to what that is.

I have come to understand on my own journey, that God shows up through people.  Just when I have needed it most, someone will come upon my path armed with the perfect word or wisdom to keep me putting that one foot after the next.  A blessing will come at just that moment when despair is about to overtake me.  Sometimes, just a hug will infuse me with the strength to get through a rough day.

We don’t have to have lost a job, been through a divorce, have a parent or loved one with cancer, or received a foreclosure notice to know what it feels like to be afraid or have anxiety.  We can all relate to fear.  Our hearts all beat the same

Be the kind of person who takes the time, makes the call, lends an ear and an expression of empathetic love for another.  Carry your faith with you wherever you go so that you can share it with someone who may be running low on theirs.

Let others know that God is good, that He has not left them nor forsaken them, but that He is working out their situation.  Share the unconditionality of His love, by being the hands and feet that we are created to be on this earth.  

In short, care.  Stand in the gap.  Be who you would want another to be for you if the shoe was on the other foot.  

We all have one.  What part can you play in someone’s story today?

It Takes a While

One of the hardest things to do, when we are faced with a life transition or difficulty, is to be patient.  We so dislike the vulnerability that comes with uncertainty — that feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop.   We want our situations to be resolved.  We want to feel secure again.

If only we could know ahead of time how everything turns out.

Whether our situations involve a heartache, a physical healing, a fiscal insufficiency, or just the unease and stress that comes with work and family, we yearn to arrive at a place where we can take a deep breath and see it handled.  

The thing about life, I am learning, is that we are constantly in flux, bobbing and weaving between our challenges and our victories.  We no sooner feel that one aspect of our circumstance has been resolved, when another presents itself.  We never truly arrive at a place of complete nirvana.  Something is always tugging at our hearts, needing our attention, or causing us pain or anxiety in little or big ways.  

That’s just the way it goes.

I have learned a lot on this present journey that I am on.  I have learned that my emotions can run amok, causing me to listen to that voice that whispers reasons why my heart is still not fully mended.  It reminds me of my fears.  It stokes the fire of loneliness, and paints pictures within my mind of a desired future that may never be fulfilled.

All are lies.

God tells us that He is with us always.  Even when we can’t feel Him. Even when it seems all hope is lost.  Even when we feel desperate and alone.  

Like a needle with a golden thread, God weaves together all the situations and details of our lives so that they come together for our good.   We can’t imagine how it will be.  We can’t know when.  We only know that somehow He is working it all out for our benefit.

God’s time is not always synced with our own.  He has His reasons for what He does.  Because He knows the end from the beginning, He knows things we never will.  He knows when people need to be removed from our lives, when better opportunities await us, when even an illness will cause us to reevaluate our priorities and find new purpose.   None of this happens without suffering, but it happens for our good, even when we cannot see it yet.

Patience is a virtue we all need more of.

When you are in the midst of a fight, when you toss and turn, unable to rest, when you can’t see your way out of a difficult circumstance, know that it takes a while for God to put all the pieces in place.  He has to get our hearts right, pruning — not just the parts or us that require attention — but people who no longer have our best interest.  He aligns us with new opportunities that come disguised as misfortune.  He plants the seeds of new beginnings in the soil of our faith.

God’s time is brought along by our trusting Him to work things out. He wants for us to look up, focusing on Him, expectant that — although things are difficult — we are watching for His hand to wipe away our tears and fill us again with gladness.  He wants for us to temper our frustrations with the knowing that He is turning our mourning into dancing. He wants us to believe Him when He says He knows what is coming, and it is good.

I wish that I could offer something here that would sooth your every hurt, your fears, your tendency to believe the whispers that come to convince you to spiral into despair.   All I can tell you is what I know to be true.

God is bringing you through your storm.  He is with you always.

Pray for patience and know that He will bless you with it.  Focus on His promises, His Word

Sometimes, it takes a while.  But never forget that His timing is always perfect.  

Blessings in Disguise

Have you ever been through a week where it seems bad news follows you wherever you go?  I’m not just talking about the kind of things, like flat tires and breaking a nail, but the kind that alters lives — break-ups and diagnoses, foreclosures and lay-offs… That kind.

These events are never easy, of course.  When someone we love or care about shares their burdens with us, we pray for the right words, the right expressions of concern, help, and compassion.  And way too often, we feel that whatever we offer is woefully insufficient.

It’s excruciating. 

From our own experiences, we draw empathy for another’s affliction.  We’ve all had something in our lives to compare these burdens to.  We’ve all had heartbreaks and anxieties; we’ve all worried at the well of uncertainty.  These round out our common life journeys, intertwined with the joys and breakthroughs and triumphs that also come to us in seasons.

But what can we offer when we feel there is truly nothing we can do?

In my own life, when the wounding was deep, when helplessness was on overload, I cannot tell you how — just having someone listen — helped me.  To sense another’s willingness to hear me, to validate me, to understand that my tale of woe was not a cry for pity, but for clarity.

Sometimes, all we need is someone to help us clear away the debris of our situations, to find the substance of it, so that we can find a place to stand on our own two feet and and say “Okay. I can do this.”  

There are things that have been said to me, words of simple wisdom, pronouncements of encouragement, that I swear were directly from the mouth of God.  “He’s working this out, just watch…”  “Just let it all play out and see…”  “Give it to God and rest…”  All truth, threaded in the common language of faith.

It’s hard to hear in these times, when we are hurting and just want to know that whatever we are facing truly will be alright in the end, that there is a blessing buried deep within our circumstance.  Blessings in disguise surely can’t come from such life altering experiences…  Why would God do that?  Why can’t we just have the blessing without the harrowing destruction that so often comes with it?

I think it’s because the fire is meant to bring out what is best in us.  Are we willing to trust Him? Are we willing to walk by faith and not by sight?  Are we capable of submitting our control over to Him in the knowing that He truly knows what is best for us?   

In countless life situations, I have seen God work things out better than my own one-dimensional thinking could possibly ever imagine.  He knows the end from the beginning; He knows what’s up ahead for us, and how He has to guide us down a different path so as to reroute our progress and avoid catastrophe.  He defines our purpose in these times; He refines our spirits.  Sometimes, He saves our lives.

We may not always have the perfect words to tell someone in the midst of a life transition or difficulty.  But God never expects us to be perfect or to be so well-equipped that we don’t need Him.  In fact, I believe that our greatest purpose, is in simply pointing others to the One who is able to do all things. By word or deed, we are most useful when leading others to the Source of where all help and good things come.  

That doesn’t mean that all difficulties miraculously disappear.  It doesn’t mean that people come back to us, new jobs are handed out on street corners, or that healing happens without suffering.  

It only means, that with God all things are possible.  And, when we reach the other side of what we are going through, the blessings will present themselves and we will know that God knew the reason for the trial.

Know that He knows.  

And if you only offer to someone this simple truth, you will have offered the very thing that is needed most.

The Sway

At the back of my house, there are woods with tall pine trees that line my property.  During a storm, these trees bend and sway with a mighty force that is both awe inspiring and fear inducing. They are beautiful.  But a strong gust of wind, a quick snap or letting go at the roots, and at any moment one of these majestic wonders could come tumbling down.

I am so much like these trees, swaying between strength and vulnerability.  One minute I am confident, getting my stride; I fist bump and do the Cha Cha (okay, not really the Cha Cha) and feel like I can touch the sky.  The next, I face plant, tripping over my shoelaces.

Not a pretty sight. 

We would all like to be “up” all the time, to float along like Mohammad Ali, all beauty and finesse and waxing poetic about our life.  It’s just not possible.  We get punched.  The bee stings.  And sometimes, we just want to hit the tarp and stay there for a while.

It’s the sway that happens to everyone. 

It’s hard to stay planted, to not feel tossed about by circumstances and hurts, deficiencies of resources or affirmations.  We feel we are just going through the motions and wonder things like, What in the world is wrong with me?  

The truth is, nothing.  

God gives us the valley and the mountain top.  Each serve their own purpose and neither are intended to stay at for long.  We learn things here — like what we should be grateful for, what we can overcome, and who we can count on to to be our traveling companions.  

Hopefully, we learn to trust that wherever we are, God is there and He is leading the way.  We can know that whatever we are going through is just temporary, and that on the other side, we are somehow better for it.

I don’t know a single person who does not from time to time struggle or question or examine where they are in life.  The problem is, when we take our focus off of God, we look around at what the world has to offer and compare ourselves and our life situations with others.  This is the danger zone.  This is where we start to blame and project and find offense.  This is where sin is bred, people leave, and spirals and destruction of all kinds make their marks. 

Don’t believe the lies of the world that say you can have it all, along with a drink with a cute little umbrella, and six-pack abs.  All of this is meaningless, empty, and a mirage.  That’s just not how real life works.

The sway is real.  We’re all going to have tough days.  And, right after that, we get to have days of sunshine and roses.  We just need to persevere, to not despair, to know that God will not leave us nor forsake us.  We need to trust that even on our worst days, we will get through it and when we do, we will somehow appreciate how far we’ve come.

It’s okay to have your moments.  It’s okay to facilitate and question and have introspection.  It’s even okay if once in a while, just to shake things up a bit, you throw yourself a little pity party.  

Just don’t stay here.

God wants us to keep growing taller, to be able to touch all that He has for us.  He wants for our roots to dig deep within the soil of our faith and to believe that what He has for us is always better than we can imagine.

Sometimes we have to bend a little with life.  Just keep your eyes on Him and no matter what, you will be fine.  

Sway.

The Whisper

Quiet — real quiet, is a rare occurrence.  Even when we are alone, noise envelops us, distracting our senses.  The air conditioner kicks on, the dogs meander about, a neighbor calls out to another down the street… The world does not stop.

Silence is supposed to be golden.  And yet when we are in it, we are restless.  We reach for our phones, we try to fill our minds with something - anything - so that we can avoid doing the very thing that I believe silence is intended to do, and that is center us.  Silence draws us in.  It causes us to listen for the knocking of our soul.

I used to watch those shows about Alaska.   You know the ones — they feature people who live in the deep frozen wilderness, sustaining life on what they hunt and whatever remedies they improvise to get them through without the assets and conveniences of everyday life.  I was fascinated by these people and the lengths that they would go to ensure their aloneness, immersed in a quiet I could not comprehend.

If it were me, I wonder what would I think about?  Would I hear more clearly the voice of God?  Would my spirit soar to meet the heavens, as the stars — acutely visual without the distortion of society and pollution — show me things I could not imagine?  Or would I be swallowed up in the vast expanse of it all?

There is something about the quiet that we both yearn for and fear.  We want to sense the closeness of God, yet there is unease in what He might tell us.  Is He happy with our efforts in this life?  Does He have something that He would have us do differently?  Become? Impart to others?

Proverbs 19:22 says “What a man desires is unfailing love.”  In this world, with all it’s impurities and distractions, we forget this.  There are so many layers that obscure us from what pure love truly is.  We have watered down versions that justify and qualify sin so that it doesn’t seem wrong.   We lie and manipulate and pervert righteousness so as to make it palatable to the masses.  So much so, that we seem unable to recognize truth anymore.  

There is only one love that will not fail us.  And in the stillness, in the quiet, it whispers to us “I am here.”  

Like the noise that infiltrates our heads, everything that is not love infiltrates our hearts.  We are bombarded by rudeness, by gestures of offense and impatience, by gadgets and infomercials that promise happiness but only add to our unease.  There is tolerance for every conceivable acceptance of sin, but not for God.

How sad is this?

The remedy, if there is one, is in understanding we can only create a space within our own atmosphere, our own quietness, to hear what God would tell us.  We know, as His children, that He would want for us to be guided — not by the world — but by what He wants for us.  His love conquers fear.  His love endures.  His love heals.  His love dwells within us and is meant to share with others.  His love is good and kind and merciful.

Can you hear it?  The whisper that calls each of us to not be distracted from doing what we know we should.  We are to be who God calls each of us to be.  We are to stand in righteousness, forgive and be forgiven, and not be swayed by the world’s version of what life is all about.

Listen deeply to the quiet and know that God is there.  Know that He is love.  Know that He is truth.  Know that the One who beats your heart is always with you. 

Be still and know that He is God. 

The Canvas

I am not an artist.  I don’t have the gift that so many do, able to draw with resemblance anything other than a stick figure — and that’s on a good day. Pictures come to me shrouded in words, and from there, I strive to depict what swirls around in my head.  But oh, how I admire the talent of others who can visually create with such ease!

Such are the differences that God has put inside each of us.  We are all endowed with something special.  All of us.  We all have an aptitude that comes naturally; no matter how small, it sets us apart.

When we have been through a life storm, it is easy to question who we are.  We get knocked around a bit, tossed in a sea of uncertainty.  We listen too easily to the voices inside our heads that cause us to discount our gifts.  We don’t see ourselves accurately and, adding to it our failures and our shortcomings, we skew the composite of our worth.

This is so damaging.

I know for me, when life got turned upside down, I spent so much time sorting through the rubble, trying to find the pieces of who I was.  It felt as if a dump truck had backed up to my front doorstep, leaving a pile of remnants of what I once thought I was.  It was overwhelming and discouraging.  Essentially, all I saw was what was wrong, and the image I held of myself was of worthlessness. 

That’s the thing about life transitions that hurt us the most.  We feel adrift.  We think we no longer resemble the pictures of the person we were.  We are without shape or form or color.  

I am coming to understand that God can’t show us the picture he has for us, for our futures, without first doing a little housekeeping.  At times, He needs to shake us up in order to sweep away what is not working, what does not fit anymore with what He is doing for us.  

Transitions are hard. They cause us to cling to what we think we want our lives to look like, when God wants to paint for us a new vision.   We squeeze our eyes shut, not wanting to contemplate a new tomorrow, because we still mourn yesterday.

That’s okay.  God knows this.  It’s a part of the process.

In our transitions, we are emptied so that we come to rely on God to show us what we cannot yet see for ourselves.  He readies for us a new canvas that is colored with possibilities, purpose, and awakenings we have perhaps never thought possible.  

When we allow Him to guide us, as painful as it is, we grow. We transform. We are given new colors to paint our new tomorrows, and they are vibrant and alive.

None of this happens overnight.  It takes time for Him to uncover for us the gifts that we perhaps forgot we had, the yearnings we have neglected, the promises He planted long ago.  It takes time to sort through the rubble we are forced to have to go through.

I don’t have all the answers, but I do have faith.  I know that God supplements all that I cannot do on my own.  He places the paint brush in my hand, and reveals the image of what He is doing through the daily steps I take.  By His changing me, He changes my ability to see that He has more for me than I can imagine, and it is good.

Trusting Him, walking by faith and not by sight, is the way we proceed with confidence in these difficult times. 

May the substance of your faith hold you close.  He has you, He knows you, and He is creating for you a new and beautiful picture of what is to come.

Trust that the colors or your tomorrows are bright.  That’s what God wants for us all.

No matter what you may feel or see about your life in the present, never forget that God is at work and creating all things new.

You are a masterpiece.

Photographs

*Circa 1911 - My grandmother, Alexina (baby), with her sister, Eva

Picture taking is an art.  I don’t mean the selfies we snap or the staged ones we take that show us all dressed up, ready to take on the night for some big event.

I mean the ones we take just because we are grateful to be gathered with loved ones in our natural state.  No fuss.  Just… real.  

My mom has books and books of old black and white photos.  These albums are filled with tiny little corner tabs that hold the pictures in place on black construction-like paper.  In white handwritten lettering, are dates, names, places… And in the eyes of people who lived and died long before me, I can see my own.  What a gift to be able to put faces with the names that go along with stories I have heard all my life.  

These snapshots tell us so much.  

I am struck by how we do not recognize the continuity of life.  Generations meld and blend with others, carrying on the names we attach to our own.  Characteristics and traits that we see in ourselves, can be traced in the faces of ancestors.  Even things we wish had not flowed within the bloodline, can be discerned when we know the history of how people conducted their lives.

The other day my daughter, for a school project, needed some photographs of herself when she was a baby.  Admittedly, I bristled a bit.  Not because I wasn’t happy to retrieve the pics of my beautiful, happy cherub, but because doing so would mean I had to sort through stacks  that are stored in a large plastic box beneath my bed.  

I knew it would be emotional.  And it was.

The thing about pictures, is that it freezes in time who we were at that very instant.  We can look closely and bear witness to the love we felt, the blessings we had, the camaraderie of friends and family.  We can see the evidence of what God has given us. 

Just like the old black and whites that fill the pages of my ancestor’s albums, we have our own that tell the stories of who we were.  We don’t realize the connectedness.  We don’t see that how we conduct our lives in the present, will someday show up on the faces of those that come after us. 

One day perhaps decades from now, someone down the line of our family tree is going to say “Oh, so that is her, the one who…..” 

The point of all of this, is simply to say that who we are, how we do life, is always carried forward. It shows up long after we are no longer here to defend or justify our faithfulness, our integrity, our loyalty, and our character. 

The man or the woman in the mirror is not a fleeting image.  It’s so much more important than we can imagine.  How others will see us should be as people who stood for the right things —   who were honest, loving, and kind.  

I retrieved the pictures for my daughter’s project.  And, in that box were countless photos of my courtship and wedding, our precious babies, my family, and celebrations of every kind.  There were snapshots of many loved ones now with the Lord, and of moments so private, so wondrous, that my heart can hardly contain the remembrance of such joy.

Intermixed with it all too, is the hint of sadness that comes when I have to acknowledge how rich these blessings were, how easily they were taken for granted, and then squandered.  The story of our lives was altered.  

In this day of selfies and Facebook, the photos we so casually post or keep stored on our phones, what will they say about us and the life we are living?  Will they say more than just how beautiful or handsome we looked?

They will.  

The story of our lives is in how we live — truly live.  It’s not in how we look while doing it.  It’s in how we stand in our character, how we enrich the lives of others, how we were kind, how we conducted ourselves in the face of difficulty.  It’s in how we cherish our blessings and value those whom God has given to us.

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words.  I am coming to understand it is worth so much more than that.

Live well and reflect His righteousness in all that you do, and what you leave behind will speak for itself.

Smile.  You truly are on candid camera.

An Everyday Hero

Today is my youngest brother’s birthday.  He is a Los Angeles City Firefighter.  Through his hard work and dedication, he is always achieving some special distinction, and has thus far made the rank of Captain with more promotions to come.

Mike is the epitome of a hero.  For all his life, he dreamed of doing what he now does, with such tempered humility and ease that it baffles me.  In the face of disaster, trauma, fire, flood, earthquake, riots, and calamity of every kind, Mike is there - leading, applying the discipline of years of training and experience, putting order back into situations of emergency and chaos. 

I am so truly proud of him.

Certainly, we cannot all be heroes to the degree my brother is.  We are not called to be.  Some of us are meant to go into the fire and rescue people.  We are meant to be the superheroes.  What an awesome gifting to be one of God’s chosen in such a demonstrable way, being the hands and feet of miracles.

Most of us, I suspect, fall into another category, however.  We are the the ones behind the scenes who carry out our callings in much different ways.  Our effectiveness seems minuscule, perhaps even barely perceptible.  

The qualities of true Purpose, doing that which we are called to do, does not change whether we are physically out on the battlefield of life defending our country, our streets, in our hospitals, or our classrooms.  The qualities of Purpose are in honoring whatever it is that God has called you to be through faithfulness, integrity, character and consistency.  

The world, I feel, is always mocking these qualities.  It champions idols — people and interests that are held up for reasons that have nothing to do with helping others; whose hands and feet are occupied with self-interest, arrogance and sin.  The world does a fairly good job of dividing, not uniting, the virtues of Purpose.

I have come to understand, that what grieves our hearts the most, is when others fail at being true to their Purpose.  They compromise their faithfulness, their integrity, their character, for things other than what they are called to do — to be good parents, spouses, friends, and co-workers.  In short, this compromise hurts us when we cannot count on those we do life with.

I will never know the rush that must come from rescuing someone from a burning building.  I may never experience the satisfaction of making a difference in peoples’ lives who live out their Purpose in medicine, public service, or any of the callings that minister to others physically, spiritually, or in so many other ways.

All I know, is that I am tending to my Purpose when I honor Him in all that I do, no matter how unsung it is.  God calls us to be good to each other, by being loving, kind and honest.  He wants for us to dedicate ourselves, each to our unique giftings, to be good and faithful servants.  He calls each of us to stand in righteousness, tending to all that He has given us to care for, and to be grateful for our blessings. 

Everyday, people like my brother, witness how fleeting life is.  What we hold dear and love, can — in an a moment — be taken from us.  What remains, what will be said of us, is who we were while we were here.  

I pray each day that God will give me the courage to live out my Purpose.  To not be afraid to put myself out there, to live authentically in being who He has called me to be as a mom, a daughter, a sister, a friend; as someone who chooses to use the gifts He has placed in me for His glory.

The world may never look to you or me as heroes, and that is okay.  But never underestimate the contributions you make by standing in the qualities of Purpose, and that effect others in profound and minuscule ways.  They are all important.

We are His hands and feet.  And, in God’s eyes, there is no greater Purpose than this. 

We are all everyday heroes.