The Prodigal

Are you missing someone?

The hardest lessons are sometimes taught when we are young. This was true for me. My brother, five years older than me, ran away at the age of thirteen. And though there are many complex parts to the story (we would later learn he was kidnapped) the impact was the same. An event like that bookmarks your life. From that moment, things would never be the same.

My mom raised four kids on her own. I can remember her sitting at church, right after my brother went missing, and listening to the sermon of the prodigal son. Her expression pained, stoic; tears rolling down her face. It was not hard to draw the parallel between my mom and the father watching the hillside for his son to return. I felt her despondency. It’s just one of those things you never forget.

Oh, how I practiced the things that I would say to my brother if I could.

The important end of the story, is that after a dozen or so years, God reunited my long lost brother to our family. He is today as he was before he left. Funny, honest, and with a heart that loves so unconditionally, so robustly, that the genuineness of his spirit shines through despite what was not an easy early life.

We all have a prodigal, don’t we? A sibling, a friend who goes AWOL, a parent who fell short? Maybe it’s a spouse. Maybe it’s a former colleague, a cousin, an old neighbor with whom you had a bond. Something happened. Perhaps there was a parting of the ways that was not ideal and something in you wants to make amends but can’t.

We don’t always get a second chance.

Our hearts yearn for do-overs. We ruminate, carrying people with us wherever we go even long after they have left our life. We think about what, if we had the chance, we would tell them if we could. We would let them know what they meant to us. Or perhaps that what they felt or said about us was unfair, untrue, and wrong.

I know I do.

Or maybe we are someone’s prodigal friend, sibling, or loved one. Maybe we have left, turned our back somehow, hurt them with our words or deeds. We justify what we did because of this or that. We rattle off the reasons inside our heads like a litany we say before bedtime, while standing in line at the grocery store, while taking out the trash. It’s funny, isn’t it? The people we hurt linger in our hearts too.

We think that out of sight is out of mind. But let’s be honest. Once someone is imprinted on our heart, they can’t be washed away. Time heals us — yes. But there is an indelible mark that cannot be removed no matter how hard we try.

God feels the same way. We are His, and yet we turn our backs, sin, pretend that He doesn’t exist. All the while, He’s there, arms open wide, waiting for us to return. Deep down inside, we know He’s there but we stay away. We think of all the ways we have strayed, messed up, gotten off track. We think there is no turning back. We think that we cannot be forgiven.

But we are. Of all the things God wants to say to us, I think our knowing that He forgives us is at the top of His list.

What would you say to your son if he showed up at your door after a hurtful breach? What about that friend who, in a weak moment, betrayed your trust? The parent who drank too much and was verbally abusive? An unfaithful spouse? The sister who, in her own whirl of circumstances, projected and blamed you for her problems? Some things, honestly, are hard to forgive. Sometimes it is best for us that people remain on the outskirts of our lives.

But the story is rarely ever finished.

There is a script we all have. Like a scene in a movie, we play out what we would say — how we would say it, the gestures, the tone of our voices. But if given the chance, wouldn’t what we really want to say be that which burdens our hearts the most? That we love them. Still.

In the end, it doesn’t matter who said what. It doesn’t matter what they did or didn’t do. It doesn’t change how we reacted or at who’s feet the blame belongs. We are still going to carry them with us anyway.

We are all broken. We all have a story. We all make mistakes. We all think we know what we are doing when we’re doing it. We all feel we are justified. We all want to be validated. And we all have something we want someone else to know.

Pride, ego, guilt, shame, unforgiveness, betrayal, abandonment… These are the things that cause us so much damage. They keep us in bondage. They keep us from watching in the distance for our prodigal to come. All of them — every single one — we can cover over with Grace.

Just like God does for us.

It took twelve years for my brother to find his way home.

It’s never too late.

And now these three things remain: faith, hope, and love.

But the greatest of these is love.

Always.

The Switch

Wouldn’t it be great if creating a new habit was as easy as flipping a switch?  We all have areas in which we yearn to do better — have more clarity, focus, discipline.  Sometimes, it feels like we’re on a hamster wheel, going around and around without much progress.  We admonish ourselves, declare that this time, this week, this year… We’re finally going to have breakthrough.  

Welcome to my world.

We all have lists of things we know we should do — Exercise, drink more water, spend less, organize, purge… do.  And then we have, well… life.  We are constantly adjusting to circumstances, issues, and the demands of work or others who depend on us.  There exists a perpetual tug of war, excuses why we don’t accomplish what we set our minds to do.

And so, we slip into default — that place where we coast on autopilot.  In the eternal words of Annie, there’s always tomorrow, right?

Romans 12:2 tells us not to conform “to the pattern of this world, but to be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”  I love this powerful Scripture.  It makes it all seem so easy, so doable.  Renewing my mind is what I strive for when worry overtakes me.  Renewing my mind is what I pray for when the enemy inside my head tells me that I am not good enough, lovable, or a hundred other things that cause me to doubt that what I yearn for will ever happen.

Sometimes, change comes to us in radical ways.   Something happens that causes us to make dramatic adjustments — an illness, a death, a divorce, a job loss.  But most of the time, we are called to change by the tiniest of nudges that knock inside our spirits.  We want our lives to stand for something.  We want to do that one thing we have always wanted to do.  We want to lay down the hurt that keeps us broken.  We want to mend a fence.  We want to be loved, heard, understood.

We just don’t know how.

It is these things — the ones that we keep buried — that burden us the most.  We numb these.  We avoid them.  We put them off, thinking that they are unattainable, so we don’t even try.

God is the Flipper of the Switch.  He calls us to renew our minds because He wants us to see that we don’t have to live in default.  It’s not always in knowing how we are to do the things that beckon us, it is in Whom.  He tells us to submit our plans to Him and they will succeed. Its believing — not with our rational minds, but with our Spiritual ones. 

I am learning that it is that very thing that I resist the most to do, that I must lean into.  It’s counter intuitive.  We are equipped to come up with all the reasons why we can’t do something.  We don’t have the time, the resources, the energy… But what if we conditioned ourselves to do them for five minutes a day?  What if we gave up having one less soda/Starbucks/glass of wine? Watching one less program a week?  Organizing just one shelf in our garage?  Commit to a walk around the block?  Get up 15-minutes earlier?

What if we try ruminating on forgiveness when think about that person that hurt us? What if we choose to extend gratitude instead of indifference?  When if we exhibit grace rather than anger at the person who cuts us off in traffic?

This is just one way we can renew our minds.  

God wants us to see what is possible in all the baby steps we take.  He wants to be our default.  He wants us to push through our numbing, self-defeating patterns, and transform our lives in daily forward progress.  

What we feed, succeeds.

God is a God of action. He calls us to focus, not on what we don’t have, not on what is not perfect, not on all the reasons why we can’t do something, but on Him.  Our human nature is to see things in terms of deficiencies and difficulties.  Our Spiritual nature, our faith, allows us to see that in Him all things are possible.  He is our strength. He is our Provider. He is working things out for our good… But we have to take a step.  We have to fight through resisting doing nothing, and do something. 

God is the only One who is perfect.  The rest of us will still have lists of we can do better, what we must work on, from small to big things.  

On our own, we our powerless.  But in Him, we can do all that He has placed within our hearts to do.

Flip the switch.  Take a step and see how far you go. 

And then tomorrow, do it all over again.

Maybe it really is that easy after all. 

It's Not a Destination

Happiness.  We spend so much time in pursuit of it, longing for it.  We categorize aspects of our lives — some satisfied, while others are not so much.  We think thoughts of “when such and such happens” or “if I had this or that” then I will be happy. We compare, we despair. We create so many scenarios inside our heads about what life will be like when we get to our nirvana. 

I wish it weren’t so.  I don’t know why it is that we always feel there is a blank to fill in on our happiness chart.  As young moms, we think “I will be so glad when my baby sleeps through the night/is potty trained/can take her own bath…” When we’re older, we can’t help but long for the very smell of our babies heads, and yearn to hold them tiny just one more time.  We don’t think we will miss where we are in our quest to get to somewhere else.  But we do.  We always do. 

Why can’t we appreciate where we are when we’re in it?

I know people who are perfectly content in seeing their lives as “full.” They understand that we are always transitioning — relationships, roles, financial responsibilities… We are always moving through one phase or another. People come and go.  We change our addresses, our tax status, our jobs… We survive, we thrive.  It’s constant.

Time never stays still. 

So why do we wish it away?  We are conditioned by the world to think that what we have is not enough.  It temps us, convinces us that the secret key to Happily Ever After is just beyond our reach. We fall prey to gimmicks and mid-life crisis and impulses that have us drink from the cup of “You only live once!” We are roused to rebel, refocus, reframe our lives from a lens that substitutes substance for superficiality. 

How many people go to bed at night and wish they hadn’t succumbed to the false belief that happiness was somewhere else?

One of the hardest things I have had to learn in this season I am in, is to be alone.  It comes wrapped up in so many thoughts and images.  Life went from the hustle and bustle of a busy, thriving family, to one by one, my little birdies leaving the nest.  I’m still Mom.  I work and clean and shop and write. I have friends who grace my life with laughter and an occasional shoulder when I need one.  There is happiness in transition, it’s just different.   

The truth is, what a gift this time has been.  Not just for the obvious — Yes, I can cook or not. I can go to bed as early or as late as I like.  I can watch what I want on TV.  But being alone has allowed me to see and work through things that I never would have without this season. I have learned that happiness really isn’t found out there somewhere.   

God beckons us to be still so that He can fill in all our blanks. He grounds us, affirms us, loves us unconditionally and with a majesty of which there is no substitute.  When the world beckons our attention, distracts us, feeds us lies so that we covet things and people that are supposed to fill us up, He says to be filled in Him.

It’s not the car you drive, the salary you make, the relationship that fills a void, the vacation you want to take… It’s not a destination of “I’ll be happy when…”

Happiness just is.

It’s in the moments of now. It’s being grateful for what you already have.  It’s in the knowing that He is always with you. It’s in knowing that transitions are always before us.  It’s a train that will not stop.  All of it — All of it. The good, the bad, the ugly…. Has happiness within it.  Because it just is.  

The grass is never truly greener.  Ever.

Our ability to see what we already have as blessings, shifts everything.  No life — I don’t care what it looks like or what someone else seems to have — is perfect.  We are all flawed.  We are all broken in big and little ways.  

We can put away our pining for what we think we should have, and know that feast usually follows famine.  We can console ourselves with the understanding that perfection is a mirage.   

Stop running.  Take time to be still and let it sink in that happiness is in our doing the work, caring for our people, being accountable. It’s taking in stride that good times always follow bad, there are ups and there are downs, that relationships will wax and wane. We are full and sometimes we’re empty… We are always transitioning.

God is in all of it.  But sometimes we have to learn to see Him and trust Him and know Him.

That is when we find it.

Happiness is in trusting Him for what’s next, not for what’s out there. 

You have already arrived.  Go on… Take a look around.  Count your blessings even when it’s hard to see them.  They are there.

Be happy.

The Ladder

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of painting.  It’s amazing what a gallon or two of a new color will do to refresh our surroundings, and change the atmosphere.  It’s a lift that costs very little, and yet can make such a big difference.  

I don’t work fast, but I manage to see a project through till completion.  Somehow, I’ve mastered the art of patching and sanding, and getting my lines straight enough that I am the only one who sees where I might have done better with a little extra tape. I dare say, that I am finding my weekend endeavors quite satisfying, if not downright fun. 

Before you think I am tooting my own horn, or soliciting for you to hire me for your next project, I assure you, that’s not my intention.  It’s just that when you spend a quiet evening with a paint brush in your hand, you think about stuff.  Such is the case with me, and what came to mind recently, as I moved and climbed a simple ladder over and over again for what felt like days.  Ladders, I came to understand, have lessons, too.

I know you have heard the adage about the man who worked and worked to climb the Ladder of Success, only to find that when he got to the top, it was leaning against the wrong wall.  What he had thought he wanted, would make him happy, would define him, he gave his all to it.  He had pushed passed the nay sayers, the warnings, the thoughts that maybe he should be paying attention to other things.  He was going after his dream, and no one would stop him. Everything and everyone else were relegated to second place.  When he finally reached his goal, those whom he had treated with indifference - his family and friends - were gone.   

I got to thinking about this.  People that I have known, and perhaps even myself at times, who go after something passionately because it is their desire, their “right” to have it.  We don’t  give thought to what this will do to others who love us.  We only think, “By golly, it’s my life!”

I love the saying, “You can’t pick up one end of the stick, without picking up the other.”  Everything we do in life, has far-reaching consequences.  We just don’t always stop to think about them.  We think that how we act, or respond, or discount, or consume, or ignore, should have no bearing on others, as long as it’s in pursuit of what we want. 

Just ask a kid who grew up in a home where there was addiction what that’s like. Young, or well past the point of grown, there is a mark that doesn’t leave us. Ever.

Sometimes, we think about God as being this miracle making, pixie dust throwing, everything’s gonna be alright, kind of God.  We can just blunder our way through life, and He’s going to fix us. Though He does do miracles, this is simply not true.  God is always with us.  He surrounds us with His presence. He lifts us out of dark places.  He makes a way where there seems to be no way… But He needs us to take a step.  He needs us to climb up, to reach out to Him, so that we move in the right direction. 

There are always going to be hurts and difficulties and struggles and challenges.  Just like we can’t protect our own children from having to go through them, God can’t inoculate us from them either.  Our faith is going to be tested.  We are going to get bumps and bruises.  It’s just the way life is.  

What we can do, however, is be mindful of what wall our ladders are leaning against.  Are they secure in doing what is right?  Are they held by our integrity? Our character? Our faith?  Or are they against shaky walls that will cause us to fall in the end?

Every life has ladders.  We have them with our work, our finances, our friends, our families.  We have them with our physical health and well being.  You can’t climb a ladder in shortcuts. We can’t hop onto the fifth rung and not somehow hurt ourselves.  We have to take them one at the time — thoughtfully, mindfully, carefully.  

God lets us choose where we put our ladders.  You may think you are doing well, winning, living the life… But each rung has a name:  Love, Honesty, Faithfulness, Obedience, Respect… If your feet firmly take these steps, no matter how hard the climb may be at times, you will always know that when you get to the top, it will be against the right wall.  

It doesn’t matter what mistakes you make.  It doesn’t matter if your lines are not perfect.  It doesn’t matter that there are drips and places you could have done better if you had noticed them, weren’t distracted, hadn’t gotten tired.  Our lives are full of these, and they come out still being beautiful.  We put in the time.  We do the work.  We care. We love. We try.

The great thing about ladders…? You can always move them.  You can always retrace your steps. You can always straighten them, fix them, make them sturdy.

Sometimes, a fresh coat of paint is just what we need to believe again. 

Where’s your ladder? It’s never too late to find out.

A Stitch in Time

We’ve all done it.  You know that thing you do when you don’t have time to tend to it properly, so you cover it up, stick in on a shelf, or just plain ditch it?  I have a junk drawer in my kitchen that I manage to somehow keep stuffing more into, while at the same time thinking, “Someday I’ll clean this out.” There’s a funny thing about ‘someday.’  It’s always ‘tomorrow.’ 

I was blessed with a grandmother who didn’t just recite the adage, “A stitch in time saves nine,” she lived it.  She was resourceful in ways people now can’t even imagine.  Her generation knew the value in taking care of things, appreciating them, and fixing what was broken before they got out of hand.  They believed in making time to right a wrong.  Not doing so, was foolish.  It always ends up costing us more later.  

This didn’t just apply to things, but to people too.  In her day, it seemed that folks took the time to get to the bottom of a circumstance, a hurt, a fracture in relationship that needed mending.  It was important that what needed to be said, was spoken.  Unlike today, looking someone in the eye and apologizing, expressing empathy, sincerely extending care and concern, was the only way to be.  There were two ways to live — a right way and a wrong one.  Gray was a color, and not a catch-phrase for what we don’t want to commit our time or attention to.

Things should be easier today, right?  I mean — we have all this technology, all these ways to communicate, to express ourselves. We microwave, not just our food, but everything.  What used to require time and effort, now happens in nano-seconds.  We don’t need to fix things like before — we dispose of them, from diapers to razor blades.  We don’t even have to think about it. 

The only thing that has not changed over the years, is that people are still human.  And yet, we treat them like our things.  We discard, abandon, forget that we have responsibility for them.  We are all guilty at times of short-handing our relationships, qualifying them by what they can do for us, not in how they transform us to be better people because of them.  

We can have all the bells and whistles that are supposed to enhance our lives, but they do little to help us with important things.  We can’t just “zap” our feelings.  We can’t just make a post on social media about someone that we love and think that covers us when we fail at being a good parent, friend, or even spouse.  We have to do more than just push buttons and transmit our emotions.  And yet, that is exactly what we try to do.

We are all so busy “doing.”  But busyness doesn’t convey commitment, honor, respect, covenant, standing for what’s right, unconditional love, trust, believing in someone else when it’s not convenient.  

Some things can only be done the old fashioned way.

I find myself, as a Christian, consciously filtering things that I say and do through the paradigm of WWJD - What Would Jesus Do.  Naturally, I often fall short.  But I have another measuring stick that I also use.  WWGD — What Would Gram Do.  What would she think about a certain situation?  What good would she see in me when I feel broken?  What would she think about how easily we push things and people away from us because they require work?

“You can’t tape over rust,” she might say. “You can’t ignore taking care of what needs fixing or it will always break.”  Things, hearts, relationships, intentions, finances, health, faith, our souls… Everything we value requires our care.  Everything. 

What I am trying to say, is that perhaps we need to pause and look deeply at what ails us.  It will not just go away on its own.  We will continue to overstuff and overlook and pretend that we will take care of things “someday.”  But what if we need to do it today??  What if we need to mail that letter, make that call, pay that bill, mend that fence, say those words?  What if we actually did them?

More than any of this, is that we can do what only we can do… The rest, we can bring to God all our rusty places.  All the things we push down, ignore, and feel helpless about changing in us and our circumstances.  We are not intended to fix everything.  He is.  He’s the ultimate healer, fixer, and miracle worker.

A stitch in time saves us from the agony of many things.  If we tend to things when they are small, they won’t grow to overtake us.

Thankfully, with God, it is never too late.  He will always gladly mend all our brokenness, all our hurtful circumstances.  It may take a little time, but His work is always perfect.

What can you bring to Him today that needs attention?

He’s always there, arms open wide, ready to stitch us up again. 

Learning to be Still

Have you ever noticed how hard it is to be quiet?  Among the many noises that clamor and ring, we add TV’s and devices that fill the air with a cacophony that distracts and dissuades us from thinking too deeply.  We think somehow its necessary to block out silence with a wall of sound, disabling our ability to hear anything well. 

No wonder we often feel scattered and detached.

One of the hardest things that I have had to learn in the season I am in, is to be still.  In the not too distant past, my home was humming, teaming with life that came with the patter of little feet.  There was always a story being told, a heart needing to explain what it felt, an idea wanting to be expressed.  The vibration of energy was constant and good and alive.  Even in the difficult moments, we thrived in the noisiness.

Seasons change. 

Of course, I miss those days.  But in the transition, there is something new to embrace.  I am learning to listen for it in the quiet. 

Somewhere along the way, we have lost the appreciation that silence can be golden.  We are afraid of the quiet.  We keep a constant background of noise to fill the empty spaces inside our heads.  We don’t want to think about certain things.  We don’t want to acknowledge that sometimes, even when living with others, we can feel alone.  We equate solitude with loneliness, and so we jam the airwaves with anything we can find to counter it.  

Anything, that is, except what we need the most.  To listen deeply to our own selves.

This is not an easy thing to do.  We want the deepest parts of us to be pushed down so that they cannot disrupt what we think should only concern our present day life.  Old wounds and conflicts and things we have or have not done, all seep up to the surface when we are quiet.  We don’t want to be reminded of them.  We don’t think they have relevance to who we are now.

But they do.  They always do.

It is counter intuitive, but everything we want in life starts with addressing what keeps rising up inside us.  We can’t just “start over” without first tying up loose ends.  Apologizing, mending, freeing up the space within us that harbors blame, unforgiveness, woundedness…  There is peace to be made, healing to embrace, acceptance to give to our circumstances and to others affected by them.

All of this — all of it — starts first with quiet.

The world is good at glossing over things.  We blare out acceptance and tolerance and “live and let live” mentalities on our social media, advertising, and bumper stickers.  We justify and patronize and acquiesce to belong to this group or that… But we never do this with ourselves.

We need quiet to still all the competing voices in our heads.  We need to listen within us for the calling of God to focus, to center, to be okay with pushing the rest aside and dealing - really dealing - with what conflicts within our spirits.  

We don’t have to be everyones’ friend.  We don’t have to believe the things that get jammed down our throats by the news or trends or faux outrage.  We don’t have to be afraid of our own thoughts, our own voices, even if they are contrary to others who we love and care about.

We need to learn to be still.

Even Jesus would leave his disciples and go out to be by Himself to pray, to hear the voice of His father.  He knew that in order to fully understand His purpose, to be at peace within His spirit, He had to spend time seeking it.  He could not give away to others all He had without first being filled Himself.

And so it is with us.  So much is expected of us, in our work, in our families and relationships, in our quest to be accepted by people who have no bearing on who we are or what we need.  This is all noise that we must learn to tune out at times so we can hear from our own inner truth.

Prayer, meditation, journaling, just sitting in the early morning silence, all center us.  Yes, there are things we must think deeply on.  Problems, hurts, fears — we all have them.  It is in the quiet that we learn to give them to God, to surrender, to accept that we were never meant to be perfect.  We are loved unconditionally by our Father, and in ways big and small, sometimes that’s all we need to know.   

It’s hard to be quiet.  It’s hard to tune out the world and force yourself to hear what your heart is telling you. 

Listen to the deep still voice.  It’s the voice beyond the chatter of blame and condemnation and inadequacy.  It’s the voice of the Lord who calls you into relationship because He loves you, He knows you, He wants you to partake of His peace.  He wants for us to lay it all down and be refreshed in what He - not the world - wants to give you:  Acceptance without conditions.

His voice is calling to be quiet so that you can hear Him.

It is golden.  It is truth.  It is peace. 

Be still. 

Say What You Need to Say

This is going to be one of those posts that comes from a place where a few hundred words won’t suffice.  Still, I will try to squeeze it all in.  I will try to convey something so near to me, that I risk the feeling, if you were to read between the lines too much, you would look straight into my soul.  Mostly, I hope, you will find something here that might cause you to say “Me too.  I feel that way, too.”

There is a favorite John Mayer song that says, “Say what you need to say…” Over and over, the chorus draws the images and faces of people in your life with whom your heart longs to connect.  If only just one time, you might like to sit and tie up a few loose ends.  

Maybe these people have left this life.  Maybe you never had that “one last chance” to say something that you knew you should have, and now there is no way to say it.  Regret is such a heavy burden that we carry with us from season to season until we find a place to lay it down.

Other people, that old friend you no longer talk to, a partner, an ex, a sibling you have grown apart from, a parent, a child… Our mind conjures up scenarios of what we would say if we could, and they jumble around in our heads on a non-stop loop.  They usually come with subtitles that run across the screen: How could you?  Why didn’t you apologize?  Why won’t you forgive me?  How could you just walk away?  You know I didn’t mean that…. I wish you knew I love you.

Some things are indeed better left unsaid.  Some people are just better out of your life.  And yet, we still can’t help but play out the scenes of what we would say if we could.  Is this not a sign that our spirits are restless?  

Our hearts long to finish things.  Sentences. Songs.  Stories… Words fill in the blanks so that we can turn the page.  So we can start new chapters.

Some would argue that it’s not necessary to “stir up old wounds,” yet we know that pain buried alive never dies.  Some of us were just taught to sweep things under rugs.  To not air out our grievances, to not let our emotions show.  We are taught to let bygones be bygones.  What does this even mean, anyway?  

Instead, we learn to put on happy faces and pretend that white elephants do not live in our homes and crowd our spaces, growing older right along side us. 

I’m not suggesting that we perpetuate anger, blame, resentment…  These are not the sentiments we need to give life to, but do need to deal with.  We want to write a better ending.  We want to be validated.  We want our hearts free from the chains that keep us bound to people who used to have a place within them. 

What am I trying to say?  I guess it is this — Words are powerful.  With words, God spoke this world into existence.  How we use them matters, of course.  But not allowing them to leave our mouths, causes them to turn inward.  They eat away at our spirits because they were not intended to stay unspoken.  They were intended to give life. 

Words build bridges.  Words transform us and transport us, moving us forward.  They heal us. When we empty them in the right way, they free up space within us so that we don’t have to carry them anymore.  

We all know how words, spoken in haste or ill will, can deeply wound us.  There are people who will never understand this, who will perpetually sling them like arrows to hurt us. They fear truth or accountability or making amends because they don’t have the capacity to be honest with themselves, so they run.  Let them be.  

The right words, healing words, words of love, words of forgiveness, words of Grace… they convey what our hearts feel so that they can go on beating unencumbered. They are meant to be shared.

And what if we can’t?  What if there are boundaries and fences they cannot cross? Then we speak them to God in prayer.  We write them in journals.  We put them in letters that we can choose to never send.  We put them in blogs. But we let them out so that they can be said somehow, someway.  We release them so they no longer rattle around inside of us, and so that God will do with them what He will.

Peace comes with letting these words go free.  Even when they aren’t received in the way that we would have hoped, we will know.  God will know.  Our hearts will know. 

As John Mayer says, “It’s better to say too much, than to not say what you need to say.” 

I pray these words speak to your heart.  I pray that whatever you are carrying that needs to be said, might find a way to leave the place they are buried and give them wings to fly.

They may not land how we would want.  They may not, on the surface, be welcomed. But they have the power of life and death.  Pray that God will give you the right words, and then ask that, like seeds planted, they will grow within the heart that needs to receive them.

Say them. 

The Art of Making Stew

My eldest daughter laughed at me recently, after we had enjoyed a wonderful dinner together, and she knew that I was heading home to put the finishing touches on a blog post.  “What’s it on this week, Mom?”  Nodding at the cartons still on her table, she said “Don’t tell me… Chinese food?”  

Admittedly, I tucked that little snip it away and said, “Hmmm… Maybe I could use that sometime!”  Certainly, there has to be something about a good plate of chicken lo mien that God could use to speak to us through.  I’m still working on that one.

As the welcome mat of Fall lays at my front door, I am grateful for the season that brings forth the color in the trees, fire pit closeness, the early promise of the holidays.  It has always been my favorite time of year.  And with it, almost like clockwork, I draw out my big cast iron pot and officially inaugurate the cooler weather with an old fashioned stew.

As one might guess, I do find the making of it, to be something of a spiritual experience.  

First all, making a good stew takes time.  It takes patience to trim good beef down to tender, bite-sized pieces.  Then there’s the chopping and dicing of onions, carrots and potatoes, the browning and tenderizing the meat.  Adding the right seasonings, stock, and tomato paste, at just the right ratios, has taken years to perfect.  Add a good bread as a side, and you get the picture.

After a few hours simmering on the stove, hopefully, the whole thing comes together.

The thing about stew, however, is that it always tastes better the next day.  After it cooks, the flavors need to blend, the vegetables soften, and the meat needs to absorb all the richness of the broth.  After cooking, it needs time to rest, to process, to find its peak potential.  

And so it is with us.

When we are in transition, when we are praying, seeking, and believing God to move, we are not unlike a good stew.  We are sliced and diced, put through the searing and the stirring, we are thrown raw into a process that takes time to change us.  We can do all the right things, have the best of intentions and ingredients.  But it is in the part of the process that we can do nothing but wait, where the most is accomplished.  

One of my favorite Scriptures is, “Be still and know that I am God.”  When I am anxious, when fear rises up in me, when the “what if…” scenarios wake me up at night, I know that I must respond by knowing that I have done all that I know how to do.   What will come next is not by my hand, but His. It will happen outside my control, without my help. It happens when I give it time to rest. 

God has a way of blending all that we are going through, absorbing the hard parts, tossing in just the right amounts of faith and grace and mercy.  He seasons our situations with people who encourage us, pray for us, help us to understand that in the heat of our circumstances, God is at work even when we don’t see him.  

What is difficult to realize in the gap, when it seems we are thrown into one thing after another, is that it takes stirring it all together for the outcome to create something brand new. The chopping, the dicing, the searing — all have a purpose.

There are no short cuts. We cannot order our new seasons like Chinese take-out.  We can’t live life like a flash in the pan, compromising our virtues, seeking out instant gratification, and then expect God to bless it.  

God seeks our hearts, our obedience, our faith.  He wants to see us going through the heat of what is hard, with the knowing that within it, He is transforming us and our lives into more than we can hope for or imagine.

You already know that this takes great patience.  You know too, that this can make us weary.  But in this place, even before we can taste or see what is coming, we find our greatest peace.

God wants you to know that He sees you doing the work.  He knows what you are going through.  He hears you, He loves you.  He knows that it is hard to wait.

It is in the waiting, that He does His greatest work.

Rest.

When the Answers Don't Come

Have you ever heard the saying, “It will all be okay in the end, so if it’s not okay, it’s not the end?” I love this.  It goes right along with Romans 8:28 “All things work together for our good…” If you’ve lived long enough to have weathered life’s storms, you have clung to this belief, even if you didn’t know the Spiritual reference for it.  Somehow, someway… It’s all gonna be alright.

It’s in that place, however, in the waiting, where we get tossed around a bit.

We have faith.  We know God is for us.  Yet, there are things swirling around us that we simply can’t understand how and why it could be so.  Challenges come in all sorts of forms.  Relationally, emotionally, financially…. We all have them.  We are not immune. When we are in a season where everything is going well, we think it will last forever.  But that is just not how life works.  We walk in the valley as much as the mountain top.

How do we maintain hope when we are doing all that we know how to do, and the answers to our problems don’t come as easily as we would like?  I grapple with this a lot.  

God tells us to be still and to know that He is God, and that with Him all things are possible.  When I find that my heart and mind are racing, when it feels as though there is no rhyme or reason to the issues that burden my spirit, I have to sink into this knowing that He is always at work.  

One of the hardest things to do is to surrender.  I am a fighter, a doer, a mom… I am used to making things alright for the people that I love and care about.  And, if there is a fall that happens, at the very least I will be at the bottom of the pit, ministering as best I can to those who need me.  

I am finding, though, that there is so much that I cannot do.  I can’t take away the ache of hurting hearts.  I can’t answer why good people are challenged with illness or life issues that they did not deserve.  I can’t take away injustice, or lay offs, or hardships that realign our realities and reshape our lives.

I can only rely on what I have come to know, what keeps me afloat in these times — God is good.  He will make a way.  It’ll all be okay in the end.

I don’t think we are meant to know how things are going to mend.  We are not created to know who will come into or out of our lives.  We aren’t endowed with the understanding of where our resolutions will come.  We only can know from Whom they will.

We are to wait on Him.  To trust Him. To have courage.  To know that He is with us and that He knows the end from the beginning.

It’s hard to trust when you feel like you are walking in the desert and alone.  It’s hard to stand with your arms open wide, ready to receive, and yet feel empty while waiting for what has yet to come.

My faith journey began when someone many years ago called from out of the blue to say “I have a Word for you.  I was walking and praying, and for no reason at all, God said ‘Call them and give them this Word - 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 your paths straight.’”

At that time, all was well.  Our season was full and happy and vibrant.  But God knew what I could not.  The seed of this Word was planted deep within my soul.  And from it, my faith grew so that I could hold onto it when the shaking came. 

I don’t know where you are in life.  I don’t know what hurts you or challenges you or keeps you up at night.

I only know that God does.  I know that He has a plan, an answer, a promise to work it all out for you.  Give it to Him.  Stand in the knowing that He is working all things out for your good.

Surrender to Him the acceptance that you are not in control, He is.  

It’s not the end.  You are just in the gap of waiting for your answer to come.

It will.  

And it will be okay.

Hold on. 

The Pause Before the Promise

It’s already started.  Going to the mailbox these days means retrieving a fist full of advertisements and magazines with holiday themes.  You see it when you walk into your favorite retail store, and fake snow and Christmas trees greet you in your flip flops and shorts.  Why is pushing the season such a thing?  Just when most folks (other than me) are enjoying their pumpkin lattes, out come the candy canes and frosted mugs for hot chocolate with Santa.

To coin a phrase here in the South, it ain’t right. 

Just the other day, I was telling a dear friend about something I have learned in this season I am in:  There is such a long stretch between when God gives us something — a promise, a confirmation — and the time we see it manifest.  You simply can’t rush it.

Certainly, we are not alone in this.  Look at Sarah and Abraham and how long it took for Isaac to be born.  David was a shepherd for years before he took the throne.  And let’s not forget about Joseph and his journey from the prison to the palace.  So many twists and calamities and hardships, all pit stops on the way to victory.

I bet you can relate.

For me, coming to trust that God is preparing me for what comes next, is where I am finding both my comfort and my challenge.  Sometimes, it's frustrating to feel that I am in a holding pattern.  I am doing what I need to do, taking care of my responsibilities, guiding those who need me, walking out my faith…  Yet, I am aware that to some, it seems I am barely moving. 

Healing is a process that comes from the inside out.  It’s not visible to others.  And so, there is a tension between where some people think we should be, and where we actually are. If we fake it til we make it, or put on the facade that we are better than we really are, we gloss over the importance of reconciling the parts of us that still need fixing.  We will be no better off when we move into our new season, or relationship, if we do not heal from the one before it.  This is why people continue to make the same mistakes over and over again.  They don’t see that you can’t  get to Easter without Good Friday.  Something has to die so that we can rise again brand new.

The pause, that place between where I am and what God has for me, is where He does the greatest work.  It’s the place of purging and making space, of perspective and acceptance, of seeing things that I had not wanted to, and of understanding that God knew things that I could possibly never know before now.  He had some rearranging to do in my life.

What I am coming to understand, is that the world wants to push us ahead — having us always project ourselves into what is coming so that we will rush through the pause of what is right now.  We get caught up in a whirl of “buy it now.”  We don’t take care of the the process of today.  We sweep things under rugs and shorthand our emotional and spiritual work so that we look like we are ready for our new seasons, but inwardly are empty and a mess.

I believe that is why God gives us glimpses of what is to come, so that we can be encouraged and prepare.  What He wants for us takes time.  If it is real, if it is from Him, our spirits will soar with knowing it is for us.  We won’t need to push ourselves to arrive when hearts are simply not ready.

There is something unnatural about preparing for Christmas when it is only September.   In the same way, I don’t believe that God will rush how He is preparing us for what He’s promised. 

Whatever it is that He has placed in your heart, He will fulfill it.  Enjoy your lattes and Pumpkin Spice everything.  The pause before the promise is good.  Wait in the knowing that what is coming will arrive right on time.

And when it does, you will be ready.

Closets and Other Life Tidbits

You know that project you have that is nagging at you to get done, but you put it off and put it off until you simply cannot think of anther excuse?   Such has been the on-going saga of my master closet.  I had a system — or so I thought.  Clothes were cycled through according to long sleeves or short, business or leisure, work-out, fun, everyday…. Who am I kidding?  It was a mess.

I’ve heard so many tidbits about closets and how cleaning them out is therapeutic. There is even a TED talk on the subject.  I once heard it quoted from a book about happiness, that cleaning your closet is one of the best places to start in finding it. Really?  Something so mundane as that?  But then, the more I thought about it, I started to see the point:  There is something freeing about letting go of things that no longer fit, serve, or compliment us.  

If you’ve not guessed before now, I am perhaps overly sentimental.  I think that is why it takes me a bit to let go of things.  I knew I needed a big purge.  I knew that the nearly dozen old purses, that were no longer my style, were taking up space.  I knew that I needed to zip up the dresses that once flattered a more slender version of me, and make the big haul to Good Will.  Old robes that I wore when I used to rock my babies, comfy sweaters that had lost their shape, a pair of my son’s first suit pants… All had memories attached to them, and yet I knew the time had come. 

And so it goes. 

There is, of course, always a much larger story than the one we share.  It’s not just about the organizing and cleaning.  It’s not about new paint or better ways to sort our whatnots.  It’s not even about the letting go of things that we hold too long. Perhaps, for me at least, it’s admitting that we are stuck sometimes, trying to cram new things in among the old to the point we cannot figure out which end is up.

With this in mind, I decided to go for broke. I was bound and determined to be bold.  I would not just clean out the closet, but completely dismantle the shelving, the rods, the hangers of things that are no longer needed, and start from scratch.   In one afternoon, I pulled and piled and bagged and stored.  I took my trusty hammer, drill, and screw driver, and took it all down.  Joanna Gaines would be proud of me.

I needed to do this, not just to free the space inside my closet, but for the space inside of me.  

When the Israelites crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land, there was still plenty of work ahead of them.  They had to conquer.  They had to stop being wanderers, and become warriors.  They had land to clear, courage to find, and victories to meet.  They had to walk out their faith.  Everything about them needed to be different.  Imagine if they had to do all that while dragging trunks and bins filled with what they had accumulated after forty years in the desert?  God was doing a new thing in their lives.  They had to leave the rest behind. 

And so it with us.

I am learning that to embrace what is coming, my arms — my heart — must be emptied so that I can be nimble and ready and open.  This is not an easy thing for us who’ve weathered life through seasons we would have avoided if we could.  There are times we all have where, in order to survive, we stuff ourselves into dark places and call it functional.  We cover up and carry on so that — as long as no one opens the door to those spaces within us — we can muddle through all bright and cheery.  

But when the need to do better, to let go, to purge the “stuff” we carry that is heavy overwhelms us, we can take action.  We find the strength to unchain what keeps us bound to the “clutter,” and we finally make a healthy change to clean it out.  God is in the awakening. 

It’s too early to know what the effects will be once my new closet project is complete.  I am something of a weekend warrior, a DIY gal, who’s learning as I go how to level things, and patch up holes, and paint in straight lines.  I don’t know yet if  the “happiness” needle will move just because my master closet will be super organized and brighter.  I just know that the progress feels good.

God’s wants for us to make room for what’s ahead.  He wants us refreshed in the knowing that He has plans for us, filled with new things that fit our lives in all the ways He is transforming us. In order to reach Jericho, we have to act.  We have to walk around the walls and blow the trumpets and shout until they come down, so that we can step over the threshold into what awaits us.

There is always rubble in the demolition.  But cleaning it up revives us in countless ways and breathes new life, new possibilities, new freedom.

I will keep you posted on my progress, and I welcome your thoughts and comments of your own.

In the meantime, know that God is always in our restorations.  We need to renovate our thoughts, our minds, our spirits — and yes, even our closets — to be in alignment with Him.  

Hang in there, baby.  You are not alone. 

An Imperfect Truth

I’ve had one of those weeks when it has felt as though everything was heavy — from the late summer air, to the extra few pounds I’ve managed to gain, to the heart struggles that come when we love and care about others.  I’m not exactly sure why, but to quote a particularly funny line from an old favorite movie - Airplane! - it seems “I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue.”  (If you haven’t seen the movie, you’ll have to trust me on that one.) 

To be completely honest, the prospect of what I would even share with my readers this week only added to my angst.  I had myself so convinced that there was absolutely nothing worthy that I could write that would speak to my faith when it was registering so low.  This is something I took up with God.

Me:  What am I supposed to write, God?  I don’t feel like anything I say will be authentic.  

God:  Why?

Me:  Because, God.  Look at me! I’m a mess!  Everything feels hard and difficult. And — you know — you know all that I am struggling with.  

God:  And you think I want you to write like your life is perfect?

Me:  No.  

God:  Then write about that.

Me:  What?

God:  Write this —“You can’t change what you can’t change.  Only I can.”

Okay.  So, here goes.  

If I can share just one thing that I have learned through what has been a long and somewhat gut-wrenching season, it is that life is hard.  It has so many peaks and valleys.  Some of it is filled with wine and roses and moonbeams, and the scent of babies after their baths, and fresh baked cookies, and family fun nights.  Then there are the other parts  — the skinned knees and broken promises, long nights with wet pillows and empty tissue boxes, with missing people and giving all you’ve got to make ends meet and still get your kids in braces and gas in your car.

All of it — the transition from glee to grieving, from happy to heartache, from chance meetings and sad goodbyes, from faith to fragile unbelief — is held together and tied up with a string of hope that God knows everything you are going through and that somehow - someway - He is carrying you through it by Grace.

Sometimes, it feels like you are all alone and nothing you are doing means anything to anyone.

I can tell you from my own experience, that’s when He comes in a quiet whisper… When your head is down and your spirit is low, and says “I see you.  I know all about it. I am here.”

It’s moments like this — like after a difficult day or week or year — when I sense Him lifting my head.   When my frustration is at a peak, He reminds me that I’m not intended to carry burdens on my own.  That I can’t do anything about situations or people or disappointments that are not for me to change.  They are for me to stand, to give my honest, heartfelt effort, to be truthful with my words and deeds — and then to give all to Him.

You can’t change what you can’t change. Only God can.

He wants for us to know that we are not intended to understand why things happen that are bad, but only that He will somehow bring it back to good.  He never intended for us to control everything that happens around us, to us — only for us to know that even in the midst of chaos, He reigns.  He doesn’t ask for us to recite every scripture in the middle of difficulty, only to hear that we believe in Him to lead us out of it.

Life is hard.  And beautiful.  And meaningful.  And wonderful.  And heavy. And sometimes so doggone heartbreaking that we feel absolutely lost.

Even then, know that He is with you.  Know that everything that happens is not so that we have a perfect life, but that we know that in the midst of it, His perfect love for us never changes. 

If you’ve had a week where everything in it has been hard, know that I understand.

And know that He does, too.

May Grace fill you and lift you up, and may you always have faith enough to know that whatever you cannot change, God will. 

He said so.

Power Steering

Have you ever heard an odd, random sort of phrase, and something causes you to take notice although you can’t explain why?  More than this, when you hear the same random statement repeated somewhere, you can’t help but say — “Okay, I’m listening, God…What are you trying to tell me?”

Such is the case that happened to me recently when I heard “You steer where you look.”  I can’t even tell you where I first heard it, but within the succession of just a few weeks it came again —twice.

As someone who does not believe in coincidences, I began to think about this statement a lot.  The more I thought about it, the more sense it began to make, and the more I could understand that it was as much a spiritual implication as it was practical.

Of course, we know how easily we can get ourselves distracted.  In the literal sense, driving for example, if our eyes are not on the road but off to the the side or —worse — on our phone, all kinds of havoc and potential harm ensues.  But what about the kind of distractions that take our eyes off of God?

This comes wrapped up in different ways.  Perhaps we are prone to compare our lives to others.  Maybe we dwell too long in the uncertainty of our problems, rather than laying the outcome at His feet.  Maybe we get tripped up in what we think will make us happy, longing for an ideal that doesn’t exist. Or maybe fear sometimes paralyzes us so much that we find we are stuck in Park. I will be the first to tell you that I am - in all areas - guilty as charged.

Where we look, we steer.  And sometimes, this leads to a crash.

Like anyone, I hate to admit when I am wrong.  I don’t mean the “I’m sorry I made a mistake” kind of wrong.  I’m talking about the kind where I’ve steered myself into a place, thinking I am going one way, only to find that I am lost.  When we are driven by emotions, we justify our behaviors, perhaps hungering to fill a void.  Or maybe we overreact, lash out, blame…. How often, however, do consequences evolve that end up hurting us and others more in the end?  My point is, if God isn’t in it — whatever it is — it won’t go well.  

All I am trying to say here, is that if where we are steering is taking us away from Him, rather than closer, we need to stop and check ourselves.  So easily we look to others, to the world to accept us, to fill us with validation, to tell us we are worthy, loved, and needed.  Doing this will never get us where we’re meant to go.  

God wants our eyes on Him so that He can put upon our path people and outcomes that He has for us.  When He is at the controls, our GPS, we may still be rerouted once in a while, but our destination is certain. 

Sometimes, I fear that people will take what I share as a means to say “Just wait on God” and not do anything for yourself.  That is not what I intend at all.  I believe that God wants us to walk out our faith in action — in doing what He places in our hands to do.  We can’t simply stand still waiting.  But we can use wisdom, listening for His directions.  If I am on the right path, I can sense it in my spirit.

When I listen deeply for God, He will give me a strategy. His hand, His blessing, is on it.  I can sense it on a level that resonates in my spirit.  It may not always give me the instant satisfaction or answer that I want, but when I know that it is Him and not me, it doesn’t matter.  God is good at letting me see that down the road, He makes things turn out better than I could hope, and better than I could possibly have imagined on my own.

It’s not easy to wait at what feels like a perpetual red light.  It’s hard to not get distracted.  But it’s necessary to keep our eyes and our hearts focused straight ahead so that we do not drift — from each other, from our purpose, from our faith.

Do you find yourself drifting sometimes?  Do you find that you are going around and around in circles to the point that you have given up believing the there will ever be a change in your present circumstance?

I know I have.  

Is there something that is keeping you stuck?  Are you trying to drive while looking in the rear view mirror?  Have you made wrong turns and just given up?

Just like that random statement or phrase that keeps coming to you, pay attention. God may be reminding you that you need to trust where He wants to take you and get you back on track.

Look to Him and He will show you the right road to take.

Where you look, you steer.  His way is always the best way forward. 

A Shopper's Guide

Have you ever heard the advice that if you are trying to eat right and keep to a budget, it is best to not go to the grocery store when you’re hungry?  I’ve proven this to be a fact!  Also, sticking to your list is a helpful and useful tidbit. As someone who is always trying to find an edge to my efficiency, and needing all the help I can get to keep my not-so-girlish figure, I think about things like this a lot.

What I’m talking about here, however, is a different shopping mode than the going to the grocery store kind.  It’s about what we do when we hunger for things, trying to calm the pangs that roam about in our being.  It’s not so much as craving for ice cream on a Saturday night, but what we do with the hankering for “something more.”  It’s about what we shop for when our spirits are running low or empty.

It is said that the enemy knows just how to find the crack in our vulnerabilities.  When we are tired or restless, when we have put in a long season of doing all the right things to tend to our lives, our families, our responsibilities, and it seems we are no farther ahead than we were last year, or even the last decade.  That’s when Satan dances before us like a hotdog on a stick enticing us as to how satisfying it would be if we could only take a bite.  We are not prone to disobedience, but goodness… don’t we deserve a little fun?  A little taste?  Haven’t we been doing all we are supposed to do? 

He’s a clever foe, that son of a gun.  Satan knows just the right buttons to push, the right temptations to put before us.  He operates in the world to let us know that “It’s okay.  It happens… Everyone does it…”  Next thing you know, we are engaged in a game of “If Only…” inside our heads, and no matter how much you play or how good you get, it’s a game you can’t win.  Ever.

You know what I’m talking about.

Just like an aisle of Scooter Pies and Little Debbies, there is a non-stop temptation of reasons why we should be allowed to throw into our proverbial shopping carts things that we know are not good for us — that are not of God — but that we think an ideal life should be like. 

Satan is good at what he does.

When we are hungry spiritually — when we’ve given all we have to our work, to others, to having the “perfect” home or family (there is no such thing, by the way) we spin our wheels and lose our traction on the road that God has placed us on.

We become tempted to do and say and act in ways that are counter to who we really are. We go to the store hungry, and come back with more than we intended, and find it costs us more than we could ever know we would pay.  We are in the express line to sin. 

When we manage our expectations as we would a drive-through, we place importance on things that really may not be important at all.  We short change our lives and fill ourselves with the empty calories of faux relationships, latte coffees, and self medicating behaviors that bloat us with false self-concepts that prevent us from seeing that the root of our problems is not lack of time, but lack of Him. 

I have seen lives ruined by lies that say we deserve more.  More what?  More stuff? More excitement?  More of an all you can eat diet of fun, romance, and frivolity?  Don’t get me wrong — all of this, in proper prospective, can be well and good. 

It’s just that when our spirits are full, we seek our truest connections with Him and with each other.  We don’t feel the need to walk down aisle after aisle looking for something that is not good for us and will never fill us up. 

So… what is my point, you ask?  Simply this:  Frustration, overwhelm, apathy, and even loneliness, will cause us to reach for things to soothe our angst and divert our attention.  And though, on the surface, this seems harmless, does it really help or satisfy?  

I have found that this is when God will remind me that He is the Bread of Life.  If I seek Him, if I give to him my cares, my sorrows, my need for healing and strength, He will carry me through it until I am stronger or calmer or able to see that tomorrow all things are new.

When He has filled my spirit with a knowing that He has me, and all that I care about are in His cart, I don’t need to worry so much about my provision, my healing heart, my family. 

We all have moments of splurging, of feeling down and hungry for something we cannot name.  There is nothing wrong with a treat, or even an occasional breakdown in the frozen food section.  It’s just that when we wallow too long, when we forget that the most important things in our lives are not outside us, but within us — within our families, our blessings, our relationships — we are headed for a clean-up on aisle 666.

We need Him first and foremost.  He wants to show you that your life is not on clearance, but that He has great and wonderful things for you no matter how much you discount your situation or purpose.   

Feed yourself on His word.  Trust Him by allowing Him to show you the way.  Don’t go to bed, or to the grocery store, hungry.

Fill your cart with knowing that good things are coming in His Name.

They are. 

The Fine Line

We are always on a precipice, it seems.  That place between encouragement and disillusionment, fight or flight, ying and yang.  The fine line between happy and sad.  It feels at times like we are treading water, not sure if we are going to sink or swim.  Maybe that’s just me.

I say this because I am having one of those days.  Trust me, I’m fine.  It’s just that I am so keenly aware of the veil that draws between seeing things as going well or waiting for the other shoe to drop.  It’s a delicate balance that, in a moment, like one tiny pebble dropped onto the scale, can upset the whole apple cart.  I hate it when I feel so vulnerable.

I am, by nature, an optimist.  Still, I would be lying if I said that everyday feels like sunshine and roses.  They don’t.  There are a few clouds that cast their shadows, worries, concerns — the need to make ends meet, the new ache or pain that comes with fighting the plus-side of middle age.  All are a part of life, of course.  It’s natural when a bit more blue sometimes overtakes your otherwise colorful outlook.

You’ve been through things, too.  I know you have. 

What I am trying to share, is just a tiny insight into what I am learning on this journey we call life.  I don’t believe anything I say here will challenge you or even change demonstrably what you may be feeling in your own quest to put that one foot after the next today.  Perhaps, at best, this will serve only as a reminder that God always has a plan.

I recently reread a quote by Stephen Covey that I love, but had forgotten.  “The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.”  How easily we get this simple statement all tied up in knots.  We are so dang busy, distracted, occupied by technology, and “necessities” that we fail to see what is right in front of us as being what is most important. 

What we think about, fight for, cherish, need… Often we’ve got it all wrong.  We’ve made it all so complicated, so muddied, so commercialized.  We want bells and whistles and fairy tales… We compare and despair.  We imagine things that we think will make the difference, make us happy, or change our circumstances for the better, but they are always beyond our reach… All the while, God whispers for us to be still.

The main thing, of course, is love.  It’s loving those God has placed on our path, those who He’s given to us, those who look to us, depend on us, need us.  It’s loving even when there is no promise or guarantee that love will be returned.  It’s loving for love’s sake.  It’s choosing to do right, because that’s what love does.  It’s honoring God by loving Him, following Him, having faith in Him, even when we cannot see the outcome of where He is taking us. 

None of this makes the struggle instantly easier.  None of this promises that tomorrow your bills will be paid, people won’t leave you, friends and family won’t disappoint you.  Sometimes your heart will still break and the miracle you are praying for gets answered in a way you would not have hoped.  We don’t know why things happen the way they do.  They just do. 

Love anyway.  It’s what keeps us on this side of the precipice. 

The fine line between where we are and where we are going, is trusting that God is in control.  There are rainy days and disappointments and times we are so unsure of what comes next that we stop peddling and just coast.  We occupy our minds with Netflix and gadgets so that we don’t have to feel that we are running on empty or hurt or just plain bored.  We have to push through.  We have to. 

When we take our eyes off the main thing, we falter.  We stop believing that God loves us and has good things for us.  We cross the line in believing that we will overcome.

All I know for sure, is that we will.  Somehow, someway we come to a place where we cross the Jordan and it all makes sense.  We can’t know all the reasons for the twists and turns along the way.  But God does.  And I believe with everything in me that His plan is perfect.

Everyday may not be good, but there is good in everyday.

I don’t know your every circumstance, your every heartbreak, your every concern.  All I do know, is that just like mine, God does.  He wants us to follow Him, to trust Him, to put our faith and hope and expectation that He knows what He is doing in our midst despite how difficult it may seem right now.

In the fine line between faith and despair, choose faith.  Keep walking.  Keep loving.  Keep your eyes on Him. 

It’s okay to have moments, even days.  Sometimes there are whole seasons when we must will ourselves to not look down but to keep our heads up.  

He knows all.  

Keep the main thing the main thing. 

Better days ahead. 

Ebb and Flow

There was an old family friend who used to say, “Time and tide wait for no man…” As a younger woman, this stuck with me.  Certainly it was profound, but in my more youthful days it didn’t mean as much as it does now.  Time marches on no matter how we try to prevent it showing up on our faces, our spirits, our attitudes.

Every year about this time, I think about this -  It’s natural when we turn the calendar to another year, that we would take stock in how things are going, our blessings, and how far we have come.  We offer up our prayers, thanking God for our blessings, and ask the good Lord that He might allow us to accomplish and see and do more of the things that we put down on our various and sundry lists. 

Funny, how the tide seems to roll in a bit faster as we anticipate the sun setting one day on the horizon.  We want to have done all we are supposed to do in this life.  

God orders our steps, just as He beats our hearts.  We cannot anticipate all the ways our lives will bend and flow, narrow and expand, and sometimes nearly break us against the rocks of heartache and tragedy.  All we know is that He is with us and we, like time, somehow, someway, keep marching on. 

As the author of a book that deals with healing from heartache, I am in awe of the stories I am privileged to have shared with me by women who have walked through things so incomprehensible, so wrenching, that it is a near-miracle that they can still have a cogent thought.  And yet, time and time again, what I hear through the weaving of their words, is Victory.  They are claiming that God is delivering them, changing them, taking all that they have gone through and reshaping their lives for the better.

I guess what I am trying to say here, is that as much as we want for things to stay the same — our circumstances, our loves, our families… We are, from our first breath to our last, perpetually changing.  If you’ve ever been out in the ocean, thinking you are just going to wade in a little ways and enjoy the ripple just beyond the waves, how incredulous you are when you turn back around and see that you are no longer near where you thought you had started.  You’ve drifted even when you didn’t feel it happening to you. Such is life. 

The pull of moon on the tide cannot be changed.  We cannot contain the drifting of our lives no more than we can keep our babies young forever.  No matter how much cream we put on our faces, we cannot defend against the age that comes to claim us.  The issue, I am learning, is that we learn to go with the flow.  That in each season, there is much for us to take in, to find joy and peace and purpose. Always.

Our faith gives to us the resiliency to recognize that He is always at work, that He is working all things together for our good, that the sun will come up tomorrow no matter what. Sure, there are stormy days.  But if we stay anchored in Him, no matter how hard the wind and rain come to get us off course, we will come through and somehow end up stronger for it.  

What I am learning, is this — Our blessings come to us even when we don’t recognize them at first. Just like the tide, they are bringing us new things, new opportunities to thrive, new ways to see His handwork guiding us forward.  We are not merely drifting as it sometimes feels.  We are being readied for what comes next.  There is always Victory on the other side of what we are going through, even in the most harrowing of places.

Time and tide wait for no man.  But in God we can trust that He has us and knows what’s ahead and already has it figured out somehow for us.  A life without faith, without Him, is like being caught in a riptide.  We are tossed about, grasping for things, people, idols, that have no power to save us.

Ebb and flow will come.  Life will challenge and change us. That’s the way God designed it.  But He is our buoy, our constant, our Grace. 

In Him, the tide will always turn to our Victory.

Old Soles

I was looking the other day at my yard shoes.  They are nothing fancy to be sure, just an old pair of sneakers that outlived their once other-functional life and were transformed to don my feet for everything from mowing my lawn to painting.  Truth be told, they are quite filthy.  Nasty even. They would likely elicit more than a casual glance if I were to wear them out in public.  They are that bad.  Who knows… Maybe I’ll try it one day for kicks.

It got me thinking… Shoes are such a status symbol.  How many times have you heard things like “Shoes make the dress” or just that subtle rub how unsophisticated one is if their shoes don’t match their purse (guilty as charged.)  My radar just doesn’t pick up all the ways I might be in violation of some unwritten culture code. 

There was a time in my earlier professional life, that I had more than a few pair of stylish pumps. It was nothing to slip on a pair of heels and click my way through my day all haughty and nice.  That’s what you do, right?  Funny how a decade or two or three will change a gal’s priorities in the shoe department. These days I go for comfort and a little lift, nowhere near the stilts or stilettos some gals still manage to squeeze their creaky toes into.  

It’s all about the feet now. 

The thing about feet is that they know things that our faces will never reveal.  They know how far we’ve come.  The ups and downs of our journeys. The bumps in the road.  They know what we’ve stood for.  They know who we’ve stood by.  They have danced and they have run in circles.  They’ve walked the fine lines of worry and faith. 

When Jesus was headed to the cross, on the night before He was crucified, He came to His disciples and told them that He would wash their feet before He left them.  The Son of God knelt and washed each podiatry pair of those that had served Him. He humbled Himself —  in love, in reverence — an act that was meant symbolically for what they were to do for others.  How astonishing this is.  He knew things that not even those closest to Him could know or understand.  

 My point to all of this, is that I am in a place in my life that I hate pretense.  We work so hard to look like we have more than others.  Not that I don’t like nice things.  I do — absolutely.  It’s just not that important to me anymore if there are little ponies on my shirts or initials on my purses or sunglasses.  I would rather know that my kids are okay and that I’ll have enough left over when my bills are paid to go to the movies once in a while or treat a friend or my family to an occasional good meal out. 

I’ve lived long enough to have loved people who would rather sit somewhere and impress a stranger on a stool than connect in a meaningful way with their kids, their spouse, their mom.  False personas are just so meaningless to me.  Some people trade all their blessings for the chance to lead  lives that they think make them look “wealthy” and “fun.”  They are bankrupt of all the things that count the most. 

I’m just saying how easily we have gotten things flipped.  It’s not what we wear on our outsides that make us beautiful or rich or acceptable — It’s not any of the things that the world would say make us successful or cool or even likable.  

It’s what we stand for.  It’s who we are when no one else is looking.  It’s being faithful and kind and approachable and authentic. It’s not being afraid to wear your ugly yard shoes out in public if you had to on a whim. 

I never mean to pretend to have all the answers.  I just have walked far enough in this life to know what really matters.   Some people worry so much about so little, and care so little about so much.

This saddens me.

Jesus washed the feet of the disciples so that we wouldn’t get this wrong.  So that we would value what is important. 

Maybe its as simple as taking a walk with a friend who needs an ear or taking your kid for a surprise mani-pedi just because you can.  Maybe it’s loving people even when they’ve hurt us.  Or simply doling out an extra helping of grace when you have the chance and need it for yourself..  

We are all in this life together.  Sometimes we need to walk a mile in each other’s shoes just to remember that the soul is more important than the sole.

And if you should ever see a middle age gal sprinting through the grocery aisle in her dirty old yard shoes on a Saturday, please don’t hesitate to say hello.  There’s pretty good chance it’s me. 

Spinning

Two of my girls are into a new exercise place that has them super enthused.  From the minute you hit the door, the mega-watt staff have you convinced that this is the ticket to ride in terms of fun, and that every dream you have ever had of yourself rocking a hardbody happens there.  Even, I think, sweat comes in designer glistening shades.  What could go wrong?

Being of open mind and happy to engage in anything that might be a bonding experience with my kids, I was up to give it a go when they excitedly invited me to come for a free spin class.  

Now, I consider myself in pretty good shape having given birth to four, and now well on the other side of forty.  I’ve had a stint or two with Karate (yellow belt, thank you very much) and I’ve been known to walk/jog a mean treadmill in my day.  When I was a kid, I rode my bike three and a half miles to school with a thirty pound book bag and a trombone strapped to my rack.  No ten mile treks in the snow in Southern California, but - hey, toss in the Santa Ana winds and you’ve got a good challenge most days.

Still, nothing could prepare me for this class.

I should have known by the way the twenty-somethings all too confidently took to their assigned bikes, that I was in trouble.  The half-pint instructor started rapping how we were all “one with the pedals” and how she proclaimed “You can do it!”  (I wasn’t about to have her add “except for the middle-aged woman in the back.”)  Then came the music — loud, thumping rhythms with words that rhyme with “trucking” and “stick” — and that all too enthusiastic “feel it as you bring up your RPMs” to something short of inducing cardiac arrhythmia. 

Did I mention that this class was forty five minutes?  

I bet you are wondering — Okay, what’s the lesson here?  Besides giving my unashamed, wobbly-legged assessment that spin class is not for me no matter how enticing it looks on the brochure, I have to say that it did get me thinking.  All that effort, all that pedaling, all that sweat…. And we all got off our bikes in the same spot we started.  We didn’t move an inch.  We spinned our way to nowhere.

It’s kind of how life feels sometimes.  I mean, you work it, putting your all into doing what you think is good for you.  You convince yourself that it will even be fun.  You have folks chiding you, rapping in the soundtrack of how, by just investing in what they do, you will have instant fitness, beauty, happiness, wealth….even love. The world is full of them.  There are short cuts and fast tracks to everything it seems.  

Don’t get me wrong.  I am all for new and entertaining ways for people to find their groove, to exercise, to get into shape — anything that gets us to move from our techno-ready postures and remote control lives. It’s great.

I just know that God is a seed and harvest kind of God.  What am I saying? I’m saying that we can’t spin our way to happiness and fulfillment.  I think that in order to get to what we want, need, desire, and cherish, we need to be disciplined in knowing that things planted take time to germinate.  We want the bells and whistles and the beat.  God wants us to be thoughtful in little things that, when put together over time, cause us to grow and stretch.  These are in the steps we take in our faithfulness, our honesty, our reverence for all that He has given us to work with.  It’s in doing our daily walk with integrity and character and faith.

The world promises us quick fixes and sunshine and moonbeams if we follow it.  If we only live for the moment, drink more, hang with the right crowd… God is not invited in, and people spin and spin and never get anywhere.

Providence is gained by working out our life in faith, not just peddling fast.

I am, of course, proud of my girls.  They are excelling in this new exercise and I am happy for them.  I’ve just lived long enough to know that such things come and go.  For now, they are rocking the spin class… But they do the daily things too, that make them beautiful and thoughtful and amazing.  They are already fearfully and wonderfully made.

As for me, I’ll be riding into the sunset the old fashioned way— on my own two feet.  And I’m just fine with that. 

Somehow, I know that with God as my instructor, I’ll end up somewhere different than where I am right now. 

And someday, when I get to my final destination, God will tell me “I knew you could do it.”  To which I will say, “You know what God?  It’s been quite a ride.” 

Trench People

I have an image that comes often to my mind when life is doling out an unusual helping of difficulty.  You know when you feel like you are in a battle, you are doing all you can, and you find yourself in the trench?  Overhead, arrows are flying and bills pile up and people that you love are sick or broken or hurting… And you feel sick and broken and hurting.  

You barely know how to peek out, never mind contend, with all that comes at you.

We have all been in the trench.  The danger of being here, is not what you are going through or even why.  It’s that when you are in it, you compare how lousy things are next to everyone else’s seemingly easy life.  From their little mountain, the birds chirp, the smoke billows from a BBQ, and the new car they bought, not only doesn’t break down, but brings all sorts of beautiful people who chat in sing songy voices while standing in their Jimmy Choo’s. (Okay, maybe that’s just what it looks like from my trench.)

Thankfully, God knows when to send in the Calvary. 

When I am swallowed up with life, thick in the smoke of my emotions and circumstances, I can hear them coming.  They are usually just a handful of foot soldiers.  Each of them armed with their own special brand of wisdom, of discernment, of grace.  Like being hooked up to an IV, they connect into my spirit and fortify what in me is running low.  Drip by drip, they replenish me; they reset my attitude, they cause my sight to focus on what the real issue, the important thing, is.  They settle me down before the flames can erupt and overtake me.

I call these my trench peeps.

We all have them.  Usually the list is short.  Maybe there is just one.  But there is among each of us at least somebody on this earth that we think of when the chips are down and the air is heavy with alarm, dismay, or confusion.  Who do you run to?

The thing about the trench - life - is that we are not intended to be alone it it.  God intends for us to bear each others sorrows and burdens;  to climb into and out of the trenches of others as they climb into ours.  It is not intended to be comfortable or convenient.  When someone is in it with you, you know that there is sacrifice and commitment.  You know that there is love. They make you feel that there is no where else on earth that they would rather be in that moment.

In Exodus 17, Joshua is off fighting the Amalekites.  Moses went to the top of a hill and raised his staff.  As long as the staff was raised, Joshua and the Israelites were winning.  But Moses’ hands grew tired.  It is said that they brought for him a stone to sit upon.  From there, with his hands raised, Aaron on one side and Hur on another, they supported his arms til the battle was over. 

Thankfully we don’t have to do battle like in the days of Moses.  But we do have our struggles, our good days and our bad.  We have our times in the trench.  And God sends us His chosen ones to come and help us hold up our staff in our weariness so that we can continue to fight our fight.

I guess what I have come again and again to understand, is that God can’t promise us that the battle won’t come.  He just promises us that He will be in it with us.  He will send us His provisions in the people who come to hold up our ams, to encourage us, to fortify us in big and little ways.  

In the trench, we witness miracles.

I am grateful for those in my life who aren’t afraid to jump in the trench with me.  They come through.  They have my back.  They are there and their love is unconditional.  And from me, I pray they know they can expect the same. 

They are the family who stands by you, the friends who stick close, the “Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall, all you got to do is call” people.  

Embrace them, cherish them, love them.  They are the evidence of God’s faithfulness and love for us. 

To all the trench peeps everywhere — Bless you, thank you, and I love you.  

If you know of someone you would like to acknowledge today, forward this post and tag them.  They are God’s special people. 

And so are you.

That is the Question

I hate to twist words, but Shakespeare had it only partially right.  “To be or not to be,” is such a classic quote.  It has stuck, been used and even abused to where I’m sure ol’ Willy would put up a fuss if he knew how his words have become the gateway rationale for all kinds of mischief.  

I’m not writing this about Shakespeare of course, but about my own need to clarify something close to my heart. I hope in some small way it may resonate with you, too.

There are times — no matter how hard I try, how hard I work — that the space between my ears still gets foggy.  I feel like my wheels are spinning.  Emotionally, mentally, physically… Oh, how I want to be grounded, focused, and fit!  But the distance between where I am, and where I want to be, seems immense.  

You know when you are in The Zone — the sun is shining and the bills are paid and people come up to you and complement that your hair is having a good day.  You are grateful that the Holy Spirit is aligning all the right karma in your midst.  Everything is coming up roses.

Other days, you wake up groggy and your head feels like a bowling ball.  Let’s just say that maybe — just maybe — you already know that coffee is not going to cut it.   It doesn’t matter what is on your calendar, next to everything you are scheduled to accomplish, is an asterisk of gloom. You can feel it in your bones.

We are supposed to walk by faith and not by sight, right?  We are supposed to trust that God guides us, protects our ways, nudges us to get back on track when we feel off.  His GPS may come in big, 180-degree turn arounds…. Or, just by a simple thought or revelation.

I don’t want to get bogged down here in overstating the obvious.  But recently, I had one of those moments when, after a rather sluggish morning, I sat down with my notebook and wrote “To do and to be…. That is the question.”  Not to bore you with the details, but in a broader sense, I realized this:  I have to do, if I want to be. 

If I want to be ten pounds lighter and tighten up my somewhat flabby core, then I need to do — exercise, better meal planning, eliminating that all-too tempting after dinner treat.

If I want to be finished with my next book in a reasonable timeframe, I need do a more disciplined “dark-thirty” writing schedule, do more seeking of His inspired discernment. 

You get the picture.

The point is, I think God is a “do and be” kind of God.  He wants us to use and do what He has endowed us with so that he can show us all that we can be.  He wants us to exercise our faith, our trust, our awakenings towards our purpose.  He wants us not to be stopped by fear, by what the world says we should do, or what the enemy convinces our spirits as to what we can or cannot accomplish.

With God all things are possible.  And more than this, he wants us to not be complicit in “someday, I will” mentality.  He wants us thriving, living, experiencing, and being who we are called to be.

God wants us to live life to the full.

I know that there are things that happen that cause our being and doing to get off course, to get jammed.  We stop looking at life as a pallet of possibilities, and see only what ails us; crippling our instincts, our direction, our motivation.  We get caught in the muck and the mire of reasons why we are the way we are, instead of using that energy to propel us past them.  

I want you to know that I feel and understand this.  I am, admittedly, too often here myself.  I know that simple phrases are not sufficient to answer the deep-rooted, difficult, and heart-wrenching issues that face us on our journeys.

We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us.  We can believe that God has us, is walking with us as we take just one step and then the next and then…? Before we know it, we are walking in our progress. 

What can you imagine of yourself today, that in just trusting Him enough to help you do, you could see yourself become?  These are simple, everyday habit sort of things that build and shape our way.

Know that you are not alone.  Shrug off the reasons, the procrastination, the doubt… Sit down with your handy dandy notebook and ask yourself, in every area where you feel lack, what could you do in order to be your best?

Maybe this is where Shakespeare comes in to take his bow.  To be or not to be, that is the question.  

But the answer is always in Him that we find the strength to do.  It’s already in you.  You just need to take the step.  

Your best is waiting for you and God is cheering you on.  

Be.