Remember the Lilies...

Owning nothing, yet possessing everything

2011-07-24T11:08:00.002-05:00

I am 27. I am in graduate school (which is a fancy way of say I am poor). I live with my parents. I have a cat, a chair,a vehicle, and a toaster oven I can honestly lay complete claim to. I work a full time and a part time job and still have a hard time getting ahead. I own nothing. Yet, I find that I am possess everything.

There is a distinction in what you own and what you possess. You can own the most beautiful house in the world with the finest luxuries, yet not possess a home. You can have a marriage in that looks perfect and functioning, but yet not possess true love. You can have gained the highest degree possible, but still not possess wisdom.

Ownership is not possession. Possession is living fully into the potential that a situation, relationship, or object has. It is bringing something fully alive or fully into the potential that God has placed in it.

I will admit sometimes, I get caught up in ownership. Or in my case, lack of ownership. I have nothing really. I own nothing. By the success-o-meter in place in our world today, I am failing miserably. I'm not married. I don't have kids. I have had several different careers, but nothing established yet. I am certainly not the most successful person in my high school graduating class. Sometimes I get defeated. Sometimes I get depressed or discouraged or caught up in the lack of things I have obtained or succeeded at.

But its then I realize that my perspective is off. I am looking through the wrong lens. I need to fling off my lens of ownership, and look at what I possess.

I am not married, but I know that I have the kind of relationship that doesn't come along every day. I may not be have "owned" that standard yet, but I am possessing the kind of relationship that books are written about.

I don't have kids of my own. I don't "own" that either. But I have had the incredible privilege and opportunity of being part of so many kids lives and I have "possessed" that in a way that few people will ever get to.

I don't have a degree or a career. I don't "own" that kind of success. But I have a vast array of experiences that have brought me to where I am and readied me for the life I am possessing.

I don't "own" a house, but I possess a home that is not dependent on a structure. My home is my family. It is with the people I love and regardless of what location or address we are in.

Ownership is not possession. Success is not triumph. Marking things off the list of what is expected, is not living life.

I have nothing, but actually, I have it all. Or as the apostle Paul said "as having nothing, yet possessing all things" (2 Corinthians 6.10)

2010-09-02T10:16:00.002-05:00

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong. –Ghandi

I think we often confuse forgiveness with reconciliation.

Forgiveness and reconciliation are not the same things. You see, forgiveness is always possible. However, reconciliation is sometimes not possible or least extremely unlikely.

You can forgive someone, but not reconcile the wrong. You can not reconcile however, without forgiving.

Forgiveness is personal. It has everything to do with you. Its how you feel and how you choose to handle the wrong that has been done. Forgiveness or lack of forgiveness is the choice you make on how you will handle what has been done to you. Forgiveness is a choice you make, and has nothing to do with the offending party except that they are the recipient of the gift.

When you choose to forgive someone, what you are doing is giving yourself permission to move on. To choose to stop holding a debt against them. Releasing the burden of hurt you’re carrying around. The wrong is still there and you probably hurt, but you don’t feel the weight of holding a grudge against the offender.

It is not easy. It’s counter-intuitive really. Our human nature tells us: “They hurt me. I want to hurt them.” To choose to forgive someone who has wounded you, goes against our basic instincts. We don’t want to be the first to fold and we want to stand our ground. We live in a world where letting go of the grudge first is seen as “giving in” or being the “weak” one.

Forgiveness is anything but easy. It’s an exercise in grace. Its letting go of our human nature, desires, will to hurt what hurts us and letting something larger, something more graceful take over our selves.

Forgiveness is an act of love. In the letter of Corinthians, one of the identifying characteristics of love is that it “keeps no records of wrongs” (chap 13, v 5). Forgiveness is choosing to even the score again. To level the playing field. To not keep the wrong that has occurred in the back pocket to throw out in the next fight along with the kitchen sink. Forgiveness is loving well.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that “forgive and forget” is the best advice here. Cause in some cases, you definitely need to forgive and REMEMBER. Remember that they hurt you, hit you, betrayed you. Remember that so you put yourself in a position to be hurt again. But you can forgive them. You can free yourself of their hold on you. You can choose to no longer hold a grudge even if you keep a barrier in place.

Protect your heart from others hurting it. But sometimes, we need to forgive to protect our hearts from ourselves. From becoming hard. Or grudgeful. Or bitter.

Forgiveness is not easy. It takes time, strength, gumption, and humility to be able to look at someone who has wounded you and choose to let go of the hurt and forgive them. To choose to act lovingly towards them when are acting in the opposite manner towards you. Forgiveness takes strength and courage. Its hard to free someone of a debt that hurt you. But in the end, the person you end up freeing is mainly yourself.

2010-08-25T10:07:00.003-05:00

I wish life was a little more like "Saved by the Bell"... I wish I was Zach Morris and when life got a little too crazy or overwhelming, I could just take a time out. Talk myself through it. Catch myself up to where life was at. Take ample time to digest what is happening before I have to deal with the situation at hand. Think about what is going on and consider my options before I react.

But unfortunately, I'm not Zach Morris and life isn't "Saved by the Bell" and there are no time outs. You have to go with your gut and hope that it steers you in the right decision. Sometimes, you just have to roll with what life hands you without knowing exactly what you are doing or having a clear game plan in place.

More often than not lately, Ive felt like life is three or four steps ahead of where I am mentally. Its moving at warp speed and I can't quite catch up to it. Or get a firm grasp.

And that's just unsettling. For life to be about three steps ahead of where you are ready or prepared for it to be. To feel hugely unequipped to handle what is happening, even when all of it is positive and wonderful.

I guess this is just another lesson in how I will never be able to handle it all on my own or manage it perfectly. Or on my own. Or without failures or freak outs.

And maybe that's ok. Because in the end, we might make some of our best decisions simply going with our gut. And all a time out would do would give us the chance to reason ourselves out of a decision that would be the best thing we ever did.

Because sometimes, the best things are the ones that make the least sense.

2010-07-18T15:56:00.002-05:00

For centuries, man believed that the sun revolves around the earth. Centuries later, he still thinks that time moves clockwise.

~Robert Brault

Time is insane. Sometimes, it feels like it creeps by. It can feel like each minute is its own hour. Other times, it flies by. It can feel like each day is merely a minute.

Its also weird because we feel that things should happen in specific times. We gauge time by a certain idea of how or when things happen. We create timelines and plot our courses accordingly.

We also come to life with certain of what sort of times things are supposed to take. What sort of schedule different seasons of our lives should follow. How certain things should happen.

We like when time happens in the way we predict. That way we can see what is coming our way and feel prepared to handle what is about to happen. We can size up the situation and deal with time in our own way.

So it can really mess us up if certain things or events or seasons happen out of their proper time or don't follow our preconceived idea of how they should happen.

When events in our lives come upon us in expected ways or at unsuspecting times, we can feel overwhelmed or unprepared. It can throw us off our guard and in some ways feel like an assault.

But maybe this is good for us. Maybe we need to remember that time doesn't necessarily move clockwise. That sometimes a month is just a month. But sometimes, a month can be much longer than a month and hold more time in it that month than any other one.

Perhaps, its good and helpful when time sneaks up on us and launches an attack. Maybe its helpful and wonderful when time assaults us with things that we are unprepared for and are forced to handle in what seems like a time warp.

I think there is something unique in looking time in the face and realizing that it doesn't work in the way we imagine. I think it builds something within us when time laughs at our timelines and does her own thing in spite of our best laid plans.

I think we would never be open to certain truths or ideas or events unless time snuck them up on us in her own special way. So its a good thing when time refuses to work clockwise. Its a helpful thing when she doesn't follow the calendar. And some of the most special moments we can experience, often happen in those crazy time warps.

So maybe we should close our calendars and throw away our watches. Maybe we shouldn't let ourselves get so caught up in "timing" and "procedure". Who knows what we might find ourselves experiencing if we simply allow time to control what happens to us instead of us control time?

And now, let the wild rumpus start!

2010-07-11T11:53:00.003-05:00

" ...And Max the king of all the wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all. Then all around from far away across the world he smelled good things to eat so he gave up being king of where the wild things are...."

- Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak

What good is it to be king, if there is no one there to share your kingdom with?

What good is it to have great adventures, if there is no one with whom you share your stories?
Who wants a scrapbook full of pictures alone? We all want someone to call at night and tell about our days. You can have the best job and the most beautiful home in the hippest city in the world, but still have nothing. You can have a houseful of possessions but still not have a home. You can fulfill all the worldly ideas of success and still feel like a failure.

What is success? Is it having a thriving career? Is it having a successful business? Is it owning your own home? Is it having the white picket fence and 2.4 kids? Is it living life independently of the community you've grown up in? Is it taking fancy vacations or driving around in dream cars?

Don't get me wrong. All of these things are wonderful, awesome things that I think in a part of us, we all desire and work towards. But are these the things that make us successful? That bring us joy? That will give our hearts peace at night?

I would venture that the answer would be no. And I think its sort of like Max in Where the Wild Things Are. He ruled and ran the kingdom of the wild beasts. He was in charge and in command. Yet at the end of the day, he was alone. And he gave all that up to go back to where he wasn't a king, but was loved.

I think the things that matter in our lives are people. The people who love us and the people whom we love. I think theses are where the true successes and failures in life lay.

Because nothing can make you more miserable than being alone. And nothing can give you more joy than being with those whom you love.

2010-06-19T23:49:00.002-05:00

I needed to write tonight. And I have started several drafts, but nothing was coming together. And I started to get frustrated. I mean I really felt the need to write. To put what I'm thinking, feeling, discovering down on paper. But the words weren't forming into anything that made sense to me (or to anyone else for that matter). Its just that I'm feeling so much right now. And writing is one of my outlets for my emotions. It helps me get a grasp on all that is going on inside of me. Of all that I'm feeling.

I feel hope. I feel joy. I feel peace. I feel confused. I feel strong. I feel confident.

And I think maybe that's the point. That for the first time in months, I am able to feel again. I've stopped being the zombie going through the motions and I've rejoined this delightful adventure called life. I'm ready to step back out on the playing field and go for it.

And all that changed when I went last weekend to serve some teenagers on a weekend Chrysalis. I went to serve and bless, and found myself being served and blessed. I went to point to God, and found God pointed out to me. I went to help people heal, and found my hurts healed. I went to remind young girls of who they are, and ended up being reminded of who I was.

Isn't it amazing how I walked around for months numb and unfeeling? And in three days, God thaws out all the frozen places in me? He takes the dead spots and brings life to them again? And I finally feel like Kelly again. That's what God does. He creates us anew.

And that's why we call it the good news. The really good news.

2010-04-28T09:09:00.004-05:00

Whether its been two months or two days since I last saw my little sister, we basically have the same greeting for either situation. It goes like this: one of us walks through the door, we both squeal (no matter where we are), and my baby sister leaps in my arms like a little kid (as in I'm holding her- all 19 years of her) and we hug it out. Doesn't matter when, where, who- this is how our hello goes.

Its funny because when I saw her Sunday and I noticed that before I even reached her, she was jumping off the group so that I could catch her. And it struck me, that this is how it is in my family. Allison doesn't fear jumping, because she knows I will be there to catch her. None of us are afraid to leap, because we know that the others will be there to keep them from hitting the ground.

And its the exact same way with our older sister. Although I tend not to leap into her arms (I prefer my feet firmly planted on the ground), I know that if I am falling- she will be there to catch me, or at least pick me back up.

We have absolute trust in each other. We know no fear when it comes to each other. We know that no matter what we say, it will be understood (or at the very least accepted and acknowledged). We might not always agree, but we will at least be heard. That it doesn't matter what we are feeling, we can share that with each other. We fight the most with each other and are harder on each other, because we know nothing can make us walk away from each other. Its the weirdest, most insane kind of trust. Its absolute. I don't quetsion it. Ever.

We can leap, because we trust the others will be there to catch. We can cry, because we know that the others will be w/kleenex. We can fight, because we know there will be forgiveness. We can make mistakes, because we know we will be loved anyway. And even after we have hurt each other, we forgive because we love each other too much not to. And when we face the world, we know we don't do it on our own.

I have absolute faith that when I jump or fall, my sisters will be there to catch me. And they are mere humans. Mortals prone to error and mistakes. Yet, they have my full confidence.

I wonder why I trust my sisters without fail, yet question a God who has never failed me yet.

I still have alot to learn about faith.

2010-04-22T22:11:00.002-05:00

I'm a fixer by nature. I like to take action. I see a problem, and I immediately start figuring out how to help fix the situation. Its instinctive for me. I'm often not conscious of the fact that I'm doing it, its just something I do.

I don't know if its my personality, the way I was raised, or what- but if there is something broken, I want to fix it. If there is something hurt, I need to help heal it. If there is a rift, I will figure out a way to fix it. Even if the problem doesn't affect my life directly.

Sometimes, people appreciate this aspect of me. And allow me to help, and fix, and offer what I can.
However sometimes, people don't want to be helped. People don't like the "fixer" side of me. People want me to leave it alone.

And I'm not good at that. I'm not good at looking at a broken situation and leaving it broken. I'm no good at facing a hurting heart and not reaching out to offer comfort. So I don't do well when I'm not given the choice to help. I don't know how to handle when my only option is to sit back and watch from afar. When the only help I can offer is prayer from a distance.

But maybe that's a lesson I need to learn. That I can't and won't be able to help/fix/heal everything and not everyone is going to be open to letting me help. And I have to find a way to be able to live at peace with that. Find peace that I can't help save everyone and every situation. Find peace in the fact that I'm not the savior of anything at all. The fixer of anything at all. The healer of anything at all.

I have to find a way to face at the end of the day, I'm not capable of anything. That I am utterly dependent upon Someone to help me.

And its only because of that, that I can offer help (humble as it is) to anyone else.

2010-04-01T11:49:00.001-05:00

Good Friday?

I’ve always thought calling it “Good” Friday seemed a little weird. Actually, I’ve found it downright obnoxious. It feels like calling that particular day good is rubbing salt in an open wound.

What was good about that Friday? I’m guessing if we polled all the people there, they would agree that nothing seemed “good”. Maybe exciting, maybe thrilling, but certainly not good. Probably sad, quite possibly disturbing- but good? I sincerely doubt it. Even to the Romans, or the officials, or the crowd who cried out for the crucifixion, I doubt when they got home that night they sat down and thought to themselves: “Now that was a good day.”

Because even if they got what they wanted, I’m guessing there was a nagging sensation in their minds that what just happened was not quite right. That what took place was wrong. That even though they asked for it, when they got it, it didn’t make quite as much sense.

The day certainly wasn’t good for Jesus. Tortured and crucified.

The day couldn’t have been good for his friends- watching the man they spent their life serving slowly die a public humiliating death.

The day probably shattered Mary’s heart- watching her much loved, first-born cease to breathe.

And the people who just happened to be around? Who really had no strong opinion in the matter? I bet they could feel the evil in the air. The hopelessness of that day as it covered the ground like fog. I bet they would agree that something was terribly wrong about that day.

I can’t even imagine what God felt. Watching the Son He sent undergo the most painful physical and emotional suffering that anyone has ever felt before. Knowing that He could stop it in an instant, but refusing out of His love for the rest of His children to do so. To know you could save your child, but to choose not to? How can that be good? Necessary, gracious, loving maybe, but certainly not good.

We have a tendency to gloss over the misery of the day. To try and temper the absolute grief and awfulness of what transpired. I think we are largely uncomfortable sitting there and simply facing the tragic awful truth about the events the transpired that day. We don’t know how to sit and simply let the reality of those events penetrate our minds. We are afraid to call it like it is. We don’t want to admit that it actually was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. We like to skip over the events of Friday and focus on Sunday. We don’t even begin to deal with Saturday. Its just too hard to deal with the two most hopeless days in history.

I think it is necessary to learn how to do that though. I think it would be good for all of us to reach the place where we can face an awful situation and just admit that that is what it is. To find the place where we stop trying to gloss it over, we stop trying to make it better than it actually it, to find the place where we can just proclaim it for what it is: bad. To figure out what it means to simply be present with the pain and horror, instead of making feeble attempts to make it better.

Only after the events of Sunday, can the events of Friday even begin to be considered good. Only after the scene at the tomb, can the scene at the cross give whispers of hope instead of screams of despair. Only after about two thousand years, would we dare to call that day “Good Friday”.

.

2010-03-29T10:14:00.005-05:00

Childhood is a tricky thing. And innocence is damn near impossible.

If you are lucky, then the transition from childhood is a slow, gradual process. Its like growing taller- you don't really feel it but you see the results of it. Its never painless, but if you are lucky it can't really be described as painful. And if you are really lucky, then you go from childhood to adolescent/adult with your innocence still intact. Some people make it well into adult hood maintaining their untouched, unblemished out look on life. On the world. If you are lucky, you can reach middle age and never really have to look at the ugliness/pain/horror that exists around you. It is possible to live being basically untouched.

However, if you are in the unlucky group (the majority of people it seems these days), then there is a distinct moment when childhood ends. You can mark the end of your child days and innocence as exactly as you mark an appointment on the calendar. There is a specific event that shatters that fragile barrier that separates the innocent from the knowing. There is a catalyst that propels you from child to not so child in no time at all. Sometimes this moment occurs unexpectedly, surprinsing you and shocking you into maturity. And sometimes it creeps slowly toward you and you can mark its approach without a way to keep it at bay.

And as tragic as that sudden shift from childhood is, the greater tragedy is that we stand there watching it happen and do nothing. Our society at large remains terribly unprepared to deal with the population of children who are being handed adulthood much too soon. We see it happening and are scared by it, but few really step in to try and temper some of the affect. Most of us feel so incapable of dealing with our adulthood, we can't fathom trying to help someone else navigate theirs.

So what happens? We have mere children negotiating adult situations on their own. We have adolescents working through emotions and feelings that they haven't yet developed the capacity to understand much less live with. And we have them doing this mostly on their own.

No wonder they shut down. No wonder they paint their nails black and dye their hair odd colors. No wonder they pierce everything known to man or scar themselves with blades. No wonder we have eating disorders, drug addictions, teenage alcoholics, and high school mothers.

We watch the world/life/fate hand mere children some of life's toughest situations and we sit back and observe from a safe distance to see how they will handle it. How they will deal with the emotions. What the will do with the cards dealt to them.

Instead of stepping in and helping absorb all the emotions they feel, we hide from it so we can remained untouched. Rather than owning up to the ugly truth and having honest, authentic communication about what has happened with children, we avoid talking about it and act as if we don't acknowledge it then it hasn't really happened. Instead of modeling mature coping behaviors, we hide in our closets so they don't see us cry. We'd rather run from the questions, than to admit to them that sometimes we honestly don't know the answers.

No wonder they act out. No wonder they turn to drugs, T.V., food, sex, exercise, academics, sports...whatever. They have all this knowledge and emotion that they can't comprehend and are utterly unprepared to deal with, and they have to put it somehwere. Especially since we aren't giving them any better options.

Who among us would sit back and watch a three year old walk towards a blazing fire and do nothing? How many of us would walk past a flooding school and not stop to help get the kids out? Its unheard of to witness a wreck and not dial 911. When tradegy happens, we are trained to act. Its ingrained in us to protect those who can't protect themselves. To help those who are at the moment helpless. We have been told our entire lives how to handle those situations. But when situations occur that there is no handbook for, we shirk back and decide its better not to help. We refuse to take any steps unless we are given them in a clear cut step 1, 2, 3 process.

The things that throw children into the messy ocean of adulthood are just as real and dangerous as fires and flood. Yet we ignore them because we can't actually see the danger, or because we are afraid we won't know precisely what to do. So we leave them out there to learn by the sink or swim method, instead of showing them how to float, paddle, or hold their breath. And we wonder why so many of them seem to be drowning? Suffocating? Being pulled under currents or knocked around by waves?

What will it take for enough to be enough? How many bodies will be piled up before we decide to step in, intervene, absorb some of the shocking blow?

How much more will we allow children, who are sadly no longer children, endure before we step in and beside them to help them along- even when we ourselves aren't sure of the way?

2010-03-11T10:39:00.002-06:00

Justice: the quality of being just or fair

Just/Fair: free from favoritism or self-interest or bias or deception

I'm obtaining an interesting perspective on justice these days. Not only because I'm spending the majority of my time working in a law office, but many parts of my life seem to be dealing with the issue of justice, right, and fairness. And yesterday in a totally unrelated conversation, somebody posed the question to me:

What would it take for justice to be done?

And this got me thinking.

If there is a situation in which the need for justice is present, then that means on some level wrong or harm has been done. Someone or something has been subject to injustice. Someone has been hurt, harmed, wronged, treated unfairly. There has been some injury.

So obviously when you are harmed or see harm being done, you seek out justice. You want the situation made right. You want consequences for the injustice so that things seem fair again.

Its widely accepted that when harm is done or a unfair action has taken, then enacting or issuing a consequence or responding action would bring justice. Make life fair again. Even the odds. Level the playing field. This is why people go to court. This is why we have a justice system. Because when harm is done, something must be done to make it right.

And I do think our justice system is important. I think that there should be consequences and punishments for actions take that harm. But can we really call this justice? Can we really call this fairness? Because are we really capable of taking damage done and making the situation fair again?

For instance, if a murder occurs and a life is lost- can charging the perpetrator and sending him to jail for the rest of his life really make this situation fair again? Yes this system punishes and forces them to face the consequences of their actions, but can a life spent in jail really make right a life lost? Is this really justice?

I don't think so. I think we can force people to face consequences and inflict proper punishment, but I don't think we are capable of serving justice. Because we can't make the situations right or fair. We can make a tragedy like a murder or assualt or abuse be like it never happened by any sort of sentence the courts can hand out.

In law suits, you will hear people on the injured side say that they can't wait for justice to be served so that they can find closure. However, at the end of the trial they often are puzzled by the lack of closure. The lack of relief. They find that seeing the person suffer the consequences and punishment doesn't make life seem fair or just again. That it doesn't make the situation right.

I think we have skewed expectations of justice. I think we look for fairness in the wrong places. I think we might expect too much. Why?

Because we're human. And as humans, we are flawed and full of biases and self-interest. Its impossible for us to come to a situation without bringing our own backgrounds, beliefs, thoughts, hurts, experiences, and interests to the table. We can't issue true justice- devoid of bias. Actual justice might be impossible to find as long as you are dealing with the human race.

Justice- true justice- comes from God and comes with God. Its been my experience that only God can make a situation right. Only God can redeem something entirely. Isn't that what justice is after all? Redemption? Making a situation or a person whole and new again? Setting something right? To erase a mistake? A transgression? An injury? And in my experience, only God has the power to make something be as if nothing again.

So maybe we need to alter our perspective on justice. Don't stop fighting for it or seeking it, but be careful from where you are seeking it from. Yes if a wrong is done- consequences and punishment are fair and often necessary. But don't expect justice to come from a court, a person, or a law suit.

Expect justice from God alone. And expect it to look alot like redemption.

2010-02-27T08:52:00.002-06:00

She was a tricky one. I don't even remember her name, but man, she was a tricky one. My college physics professor. You had to watch her. She liked nothing better than to throw you curve balls. You think she was teaching you about velocity and gravity, but instead you'd find yourself learning something about life. You'd listen to her lectures on physics and science, and find yourself walking away feeling like you'd been to church where a 70 year old Korean scientist was the preacher. I'm telling you- she was clever. She wanted you to know your physics- that was important to her. She truly taught us about science, but also she taught us about life.

I'll never forget her favorite trick. I'll never forget it because I always fell for it.

My biggest problem in college physics was the math. So many complicated formulas and equations and I'm not really a math person. I would get so worked up and stressed about them, that I would make them much more complicated than they should be. I remember she kept telling me, "You got the right answer. But you could gotten there in 5 less steps."

And it never failed that somewhere on every exam, she would disguise a simple addition or subtraction problem that a first grader could solve as a complex physics question. She would disguise it as difficult and intimidating, when really all it required you to do is something you learned at the age of 5. And every time, we all fell for it. We made it so much more complicated than it should be. We tried working calculus problems and algebraic expressions, when all she needed us to do is add the numbers.

She would scold us, "Start with the basics. Go back to what you know you know. Try the simplest solution first. Start from your foundation."

I think that's pretty good life advice disguised as fairly good physics advice.

These days I find myself going back to my foundations. Going back and relearning what I learned so long ago. Re-familiarizing myself with the most elementary of lessons.

After 4 years of complex theological thinking and putting efforts and energy into teaching others about God, I find myself needing to relearn the most basic parts of my faith.

I find myself having to relearn the fact that faith is not circumstantial. Belief should exist and faith should prevail, despite what the landscape looks like.

Grace is not dependant upon what I do. Grace is dependant upon who God is. I don't receive grace because of anything I do, I receive grace because God is gracious.

And most of all, I find myself being retaught that I am loved- not for what I do, think, produce, look, act, feel. But I am loved simply for existing. I am loved on my good days, my bad days, my crazy days, and my level headed days. That love is not dependent on my mood, my character, my obedience, on anything. That I am simply loved for being me.

And I think these are lessons that I needed to learn. And probably could only learn by coming home again for awhile.

And I guess that even after all those physics exams, I still sometimes miss the simplest lessons. And that sometimes the answers are the most obvious and the easiest.

I am loved- despite everything. My faith will last- in the face of everything. And grace is there- no matter what and no matter who.

Sometimes I really think we are all just kindergartners in the school of life.

2010-02-27T08:40:00.002-06:00

I am both a perfectionist and a people-pleaser. Because of these two aspects of my personality, on my best days I am cooperative and driven. On my best days I pursue excellence and make a great mediator. The good days find me knocking my to-do list out left and right and trying to make the lives I'm around a little bit easier. On my best days, these personality traits enhance who I am- making me a hard worker and a good person to be around. On my good days, I keep all the doubts and demons trapped within the truth I am assured of- that I am ok.

But on my worst days, these two aspects of my personality make my life a living hell. They make me insecure, self conscious of all the flaws I see, frustrated because I can't seem to please every. On the bad day, I drive myself mad trying to figure out how to make choices that will satisfy all the people I feel I have to be perfect for. On the really bad day, the perfectionist in me will constantly beat up the flawed human I really am. On my worst days, this makes me overly OCD and worrisome, plus just plain unhappy with myself. On bad days, all my doubts and demons fly freely around my head and I can make myself pretty sick.

Most days however, I go back and forth between the two spectrum's.

How come most of the stuff in life can be both good and bad? A joy and a curse? A gift and a nuisance? Must everything contain polar ends of the spectrum?

I guess that's why we all try to live on the plateaus. In the middle. Finding a happy medium. Because its easier. Because if you stay on the plateau, you may miss the mountain top, but at least you're assured you won't end up in a valley.

But is that really how we should live? Isn't the mountaintop worth the risk of the valley? If we don't experience the depth of the valley, how can we truly appreciate the levelness of the plateau or the height of the mountain top?

I'm not really sure what I'm striving for or saying here. I guess I just wanted to remind myself that the bad days are as essential as the good days. The valleys mean as much as the mountaintops. And if you spend too much time on the plateau, you mind just find yourself getting stuck there.

2010-02-09T22:52:00.003-06:00

I had to take a break from blogging.

I had to take a break from life.

I just needed time to breathe.

Because there for a few days, even breathing hurt.

I feel like my life has been taken apart, and the pieces have been put back together all wrong.

I'm homesick for people and places that aren't home.

I am mourning the loss of a job and life I choose to leave.

And I'm missing people who I never even knew mattered.

And logically, I know that in a few days, weeks, months, year...whenever- I will look back on it and see the beauty and the wonder that the abstract art of my life is. But at the moment, its just weird and disjointed and unsettling and somewhat uncomfortable. Its something that I expected to look one way and looks an entirely different way. And even knowing that eventually, it will all work out and seem right- doesn't necessarily ease the pain of the present.

But abstract art is beautiful. And part of its beauty is the tension it creates. The problems it stirs up. The discomfort it offers.

So I'm trying to embrace it. I'm trying to find the beauty in it. I'm trying to have faith that with some time and perspective, I'll see why my life is supposed to look like it does right now and what beauty might be found in t .

2010-01-30T19:38:00.002-06:00

Most of the time, when I exercise, I enjoy heart-pounding, music blaring, sweat-producing, butt-kicking, adrenaline pumping kinds of work outs. Kick boxing, if I have to be indoors, or cycling, if the weathers warm enough to be outdoors. I enjoy having to work so hard that I don't have the mental capacity to think.

I'm not really a yoga, ballet, or long walks type girl if I have my druthers. However, occasionally the situation will war rent where I have to turn to one of these venues in order to get my workout. I mean I could kick box with loud music when I'm snowed into a house with four other people, but its time like those when yoga seems to be the quieter, community friendly choice.

I'm often surprised at how calm I feel after yoga or a walk. How good I actually do feel after a quieter, less demanding workout. That even though there isn't music blaring or I'm not struggling to breathe, there is a certain relaxing quality about just being in the quiet moment. I forget how often releasing stillness is.

I felt (and still do to some extent) incredibly unsettled tonight. I just couldn't get comfortable or satisfied. Was going a little stir crazy. So I threw on the yoga video and did a relaxation series. The final set of the series was simply laying down on my back with limbs extended out and counting breaths. And for some reason tonight, that has left me relaxed. And a bit more settled and content.

I forget to take time to be still. I forget to take time to breath. I forget how relaxing and restful and settling simply "being" can be.

And since today, for all intents and purposes, is my Sabbath, I guess that was a good reminder for me. That we all need the quiet spaces. The quiets. The rest. The moments that simply let us be and recharge to live again.

How often do we forget simply to breathe? How often do we get caught up so much in life that we forget to take even a few moments just to rest? To be? To do nothing beyond convert oxygen? Maybe we'd all be a little better off if we worked more moments like these into our cramped, hectic, loud lives.

2010-01-28T22:16:00.002-06:00

I'm angry.

Literally. I'm at the seeing-red, want-to-punch-someone-in-their-face, irrational point of anger.

And this is really rare for me. I'm not an angry person. I very rarely feel rage or want to hurt anyone.

But tonight, I'm just there. And since its a foreign and uncomfortable emotion for me, I'm struggling to know what to do with it.

I know the song says "carry everything to God in prayer". But I wonder. Can He really handle my anger? Can I really approach Him with it? Aren't you supposed to get rid of all the "bad" emotions, like anger, greed, jealously, lust, etc, before you approach God?

But all I can find myself doing is giving my anger to God and asking Him what to do with it? Talking to him with all my rage and tension and looking Him dead in the eye and asking if He can handle it?

And the funny thing is that this might be the most authentic prayer I've prayed in a long time. This might be the most pure moment of communion with God that I've had in awhile. Because the key ingredient in prayer is honesty. And if you try to come before God and lie, cover up, or hide where you are at- then that's not prayer. That's not true communion with God.

So tonight, I'm being real. I'm being honest. I'm praying.

And I know I'm praying to a God who is big enough and strong enough and awesome enough to handle any and all emotions I have. The good ones and the not so good ones.

roll those credits

2010-01-26T00:48:00.004-06:00

If my life were a movie (and let's face it- it stands a pretty decent shot at becoming a made for TV movie one of these days), I would be at the point in the movie right before the big climax. I'd be at the point of the movie where things seem the worst. Where hope was the lowest. The point where evil seemed to be winning over good and the good guys look like they just might get defeated.

If my life were a movie, we'd be at the point where everyone in the audience has a sick pit of fear in their stomachs because they aren't entirely sure that there is a happy ending to be had.

BUT the thing is- is that right after THAT point in the movie- the awful point- comes the big break. Its guaranteed. That right after the moment where the rain is falling, comes the moment where the clouds break and the sun reappears. That always following the place where the good guys get defeated, get broken, get disheartened- immediately after comes the point where they find courage to try again, to rebuild, to renew their hope. There is always a shift, a change, a break and good always comes out on top in the end.

And this is what I've got to remember. That even if I am in the moment where evil seems to be prevailing, that it is JUST A MOMENT. That soon, things wills shift and realign and good will come out again as the victor. Because good always wins. I've just got to hold onto the hope. I've got to keep my faith. I've got to tell myself that even when everything else seems to the contrary, that happy endings happen and good prevails over evil and light will always dissipate the dark.

So if my life were a movie, this would be the moment where someone would make an inspirational speech or have a good cry or just experience an attitude adjustment. So don't turn the movie off just yet in despair, let's see what comes next.

2010-01-24T21:30:00.002-06:00

More often than not, the moments that matter are cleverly disguised as everyday, normal moments. Usually, the times when miracles occur are at 10am on a Tuesday morning when everything is as ordinary as it can be. Always do the usual things end up meaning more when you no longer have them.

The moments, the spaces in time, I'll miss most are the ordinary stuff. The usual. The non spectacular moments. Because if the most blase of moments can be special, then you know you are experiencing something wonderful indeed.

I wish that occasionally I could just freeze time. That I could pull the "time out" like Zach off of "Saved by the Bell" and capture those moments forever. Moments spent riding to school, cooking dinner, drinking coffee, singing the Hymn of Invitation, hugging the same person as you always do. The things that you do a million times over and never think twice about mean more when you realize that you no longer have them.

How do you store up these meaningful moments? How do you take time to recognize them for the miracles they are amidst the normal everyday? How to do you honor them for the unique meaning they give to our lives?

I guess what makes them special is the recognition of them. The essence that is so beautiful that there is no way to bottle it, to save it, to keep it for a rainy day. I guess the beauty is in ordinary and in the everyday. The beauty is in its inability to be saved or stored or stopped.

The thing is- how amazing is it that they are people who matter so much they can make the most blase, unspecial, ordinary, boring times absolutely incredible, irreplaceable, and miraculous?

2010-01-19T21:45:00.002-06:00

I have a series of books that I use for the times when I suffer from writer's block. They are called the "If" books. I have "If", "If2", "If-questions for the soul", and "If- how far will you go".

Probably my favorite one of these to work from is the "How far will you go" one. Because this book makes you set boundaries. It makes you mark the areas of back and white. It refuses to let you seek comfort in the shades of gray. It asks you for absolutes.

I think that it, occasionally, is good for us to be forced to set our boundaries. Most of us bank on the experience of the shades of gray. We depend on people allowing us to float back and forth between the black and white depending upon our current mood/situation/community. But sometimes, its good for us to sit back and really consider what we believe and what we are wiling to do at the honest gut level.

I think that defining my boundaries is especially good for me. Because usually, I have a hard time being absolutely honest. I'm one of those people who are entirely comfortable letting everyone else lay all their cards on the table, without ever sharing my hand. And I don't mean to be like this. I don't mean to hold back. I don't mean to be less than honest or less than forthcoming. It's that I'm afraid.

There I said it. I'm afraid to really say what I think, I feel, I believe. I'm afraid to show people my boundaries. My black and my white. What if they dissaprove? What if they reject it? Make fun of it?

I try to look back and figure out when I became of afraid of being completely honest. Of putting myself out there. I think, on some level at least, I've always been kind of a people pleaser. A kid who has always been afraid of disappointing, letting people down, or of not being perfect.

But you know what, I'm human. I'm not perfect. I'm going to say/do/believe things that people disagree with. That other people will want me to do otherwise. And I think I'm finally learning that that is ok. That its alright to not have everyone agree with me. To approve of my choices. To think my decisions are the right ones.

Because in the end, I'm the only person who has to live my life. I'm the only person who has to spend time in my head and in my heart. I'm the only person who can make my choices, live my life, and define my boundaries. And I'm the only one who needs to find peace with them.

2010-01-19T13:18:00.001-06:00

You fail to recognize that it

matters not what someone is born,

but what they grow to be.

-Dumbledore, Harry Potter

2010-01-17T11:43:00.002-06:00

Top 5- Smart "alec" reasons I'm going to start giving people for changing jobs

I'm in the midst of a major life change and the reasons are so complicated and kind of weird that I can't really sum them up in a sentence. So it really throws me for a loop when people ask "Why?" and I stand there and drool with no concise answer to offer people.

So my friend Joey and myself brainstormed the other night over burritos for excuses I coud give and we came up with five to rotate:

1. I'm joining the cast of Glee and filming starts in February.
2. I'm joining the circus.
3. Now that Lane Kiffin is leaving Knoxville, its safe for me to go back to East TN.
4. I'm entering into witness protection.
5. Just tell them: "That's classified."

Each one is ridiculous enough that when I offer these, it will create enough of pause in the conversation for me to make a not so graceful escape and thus avoid all this awkwardness.

Sucks when you can't really explain the truth.

2010-01-16T22:45:00.003-06:00

"She walked away... wouldn't say why she was leaving.

She walked away...she left all she had believed in...

She walked away"

-Barlow Girl

I so think that, in some instances, leaving takes more courage than staying. Not in every situation, but occasionally it takes more guts to walk towards the door than to remain in the place that you've been.

Sometimes there is not really a concise, definitive reason to leave, you just know that you have to go. That even if leaving is the wrong choice, staying isn't the right choice either.

Walking away, especially when you aren't sure if you want to, requires courage. Requires faith. Putting miles in between you and the life you have known is never easy. Creating space, distance, and time between what life will be and what life is now is a process that is not usually comfortable.

Leaving can be the right thing to do overall, but is still allowed to hurt. Just because you are the one changing things, or leaving, doesn't mean that you don't have the right to hurt as well.

Even if you are sure that walking away or making the change is the absolute best choice, there can still be parts of the process that break your heart. You can grieve the loss of what you are willingly walking away from.

Even when you choose to walk away, you are still allowed to hurt.

Because sometimes, even the best option is going to hurt.

Top Five

2010-01-10T11:40:00.002-06:00

Top Five- Little Things that I've Rediscovered in Life this Week

1. Hot chocolate with marshmellows
2. Catch phrase
3. Lazy Saturday mornings
4. Cooking dinner from scratch
5. Curling up with a good book

Its really the little things that refresh and comfort

adios, au revior, ciao- however you word it, still hurts like hell

2010-01-07T11:49:00.002-06:00

Occasionally we get to the see the end as it approaches.

Sometimes, life gives us forewarning for when a conclusion is heading our way. The finale doesn’t take us by surprise every time.

Every now and then, the ending isn’t unexpected and it is something we can prepare for.

And we talk about how hard surprise goodbyes and sudden endings are, but I think there is something to be said for them. Occasionally, I find it easier to deal with and grieve goodbyes when I don’t see them coming and can’t prepare for them. Because then, I have separate, uncluttered grief and I’m working through a situation that is already happened and is past.

If we see endings, if we know they are looming ahead of us, then this sometimes can be a hard way to say goodbye. If we know they are approaching, if we can mark the days off the calendar, if we are able to hear the clock tick our time towards the final scene then occasionally that s harder to live with than a quick tragic ending.

For, how do you really prepare to say goodbye? How do you learn to navigate the ending of something? How do you get ready for something to cease, to stop being? Is there any way to prepare for that? How do you ready your heart to be broken? How do you continue to move forward day after day, knowing that each day moves you closer to being shattered into a million little pieces?

Goodbyes, endings- they are unnatural; especially, between people. When we love, we love people thinking that we will love them forever. We believe that we will be part of each other forever and we throw ourselves into those relationships and communities fearlessly and hold nothing back. We work day after day to make the bonds stronger, to make the relationship better, to worm our way into each other’s hearts more solidly. Until one day, when we realize that we have to say goodbye.

That what was, must come to an end. And it’s not an end that happens to us, but an end that we choose to inflict upon ourselves. And it hurts. And it’s hard. We watch ourselves walk toward broken hearts and shattered relationships. We put move (usually feels as if we move through mud) towards the goodbye. Towards the finale scene in whatever act we are starring in. We are choosing to say goodbye even while knowing it’s going to hurt like hell. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t right.

Endings as unnatural as they seem, are an unavoidable part of life.

Deaths, goodbyes, divorces, broken relationships, lost jobs, moves made, graduations. They all are endings.

They are all the conclusions to some thing, some relationship, some part of our lives that must change or cease to be or must be in a different way.

And even when there is joy involved, there is always some loss involved too.

It’s hard to say goodbye. It’s practically impossible to prepare yourself for it. Even with your best efforts and best intentions, it will still be painful when the time comes to actually say goodbye. Your heart will still be in your throat when you stare the exit sign in the face knowing you must now walk through the door you’ve been anticipating for months.
But there is one thing about endings. Without them, we would never have the opportunity for new beginnings.

2010-01-06T18:45:00.001-06:00

"There will come a time when

everything feels like it is finished.

That will be the beginning."

-Louis L'Amour

playing catchup

2010-01-05T10:58:00.002-06:00

Ok so I've missed two Sundays of top 5... so now we are going to catch them up

Top 5- Places I love to be in Nashville

1. Front steps of my church whenever the sun is setting- beautiful and peaceful
2. Living room of Tyne House at about 3 am talking with good friends about everything and nothing
3. The Big Bang- with the girls, singing songs we don't know the words too way too loudly
4. the classroom of CYMT
5. Nashville Convention Center- just a place where I've been every year since middle school for conventions and it just always gives a great little wave of nostalgia

Top 5- Places I love to be in Crossville

1. Saturday morning at the Cracker Barrell
2. Chelsea's front porch
3. Driving around back roads with the girls
4. Couch in the living room with my sisters
5. My thinking spot (swings at Rec park)

2010-01-04T23:12:00.003-06:00

Its often said that "home is where your story begins..."

How very true that is. That where we all get our starts.

That where the original chapters of our story are written.

Whether they be good chapters or bad chapters,

our homes serve as the background and the settings.

Then we grow up, and most of us leave home.

We pursue new narratives and travel down different story lines.

We chase dreams, goals, ambitions, and create volumes of our story

set in entirely different locations.

We write and rewrite the passages of our lives.

We continually create and recreate the main character (ourselves).

We constantly change the supporting roles in our stories as our communities shift around us.

And occasionally, we forget how we started out. Who we were in the beginning of the story.

We lose sight of the story we originally meant to write.

And that's not necessarily bad.

Its ok to end up realizing that your story is going to look a little different than you had outlined.

But occasionally, we get "writer's block" in life.
We get lost or forget how to move ahead in our story.
We are unable to continue in our present narrative and are helpless to know how to change it.

And when this happens, I find it helpful to go back home. To go back to the very beginning, which really is 'a very good place to start.'

Because by going back to the beginning, you can see where you have been.

How you have changed. For good or for worse.

You can really consider what you have done and what you want to do.

Home is where our story begins. And begins over and over again.

Nothing puts your story in perspective like traveling back to its origins.

Home is where your story begins.

But, in part, I'm very thankful that our stories take us away from home.

Because then we wouldn't be able to appreciate the beauty of being able to return.

The wonder of being able to go back home.

To find yourself, once again, at the beginning.

2010-01-03T17:35:00.002-06:00

I've taken a break from blogging over the holidays.
I've been spending time with the people I love.
I've been going to visit the places that make me feel like myself.
I've been doing the things that help me see myself a little more clearly.

And at the end of this wonderfully, long, lazy, amazing holiday break I'm left pondering this thought.

To pursue new adventures, you always have to leave old ones. To say yes to something, there is always something you are saying no to. There always will be choices, and they will never really be clear cut. The uncertainty is part of the fun, but also the part that invovles the risk.

Choice always will involve courage. Faith. Hope.

Knowing that if you want to change your life, if you want something different than what you have- you alone hold the power to act and produce that change.

And at the end of the day, you have to do what makes sense for you and produces peace in your heart, whether or not anyone else in the world understands or approves.

To be able to say yes, you must always have to be willing to say no.

The Magnificot

2009-12-21T09:55:00.002-06:00

And Mary said, "My soul glorifies the Lord

and my spirit rejoices in my Savior God, for he has been mindful of his humble servant.

From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Might One has done great things

for me- holy is His name."

Luke 1.46-49

I love the Magnificot. Which is the fancy name for the song of Mary found in the Lukan Christmas story. I find it to be a beautiful and refreshing piece of scripture. Its just happy- and I like happy things.

However, I often think people misunderstand the Maginificot. People often think it is what Mary's response was when told she would be the mother of the Savior of the world. And that is a wrong understanding of what her song is.

The angel came to Mary and dropped the news bomb that would change her life. But Mary's immediate response wasn't to burst into her "My soul glofiries the Lord.." song. First it says her heart was troubled (which is totally understandable reaction for when a heavenly being shows up in your bedroom at night) and then she went into the "What in the heck are you talking about???" mode. The angel explains then the pesky details of the matter and Mary goes... "Umm...ok. Whatever you say." She agrees but to me, her words don't exactly resonate with assurance.

Maybe it is just me, but I like Mary more knowing she wasn't exactly 100% sure of this situation right off the bat. That she went through the scared, confused, and kind of just whatever stages. It was only later, days later, when she travled to visit her cousin that she had found peace and joy in her situation. At first she wasn't singing about this life altering news, she was processing it. And this comforts me. Because if the mother of Jesus (who got news from actual angels) can take time to process what is happening before she finds joy and peace in it, then that make me feel better about how I react when God drops bombs on my life (and I never even get news from angels...).

But Mary also reminds me that eventually I will find peace and joy within situations. That when God works, even if I'm uncertain about what the heck He is doing at the time, that the happiness and singing will come. Its comforting to know that situations that start out as kind of weird and uncertain can become situations in which I end up celebrating and being grateful for.

So I guess above all, the Magnificot gives me hope. Hope that situations that can scare me or make me cry or confuse me can one day make me sing.

Hope that out of disorder and disruption will come order and peace.

Hope that even when I don't totally get what God is doing that it will be for my own good.

Hope that even if I don't understand the means, the end will always make sense and bring joy.

2009-12-20T07:53:00.002-06:00

Top Five

Top Five People to See on My Wonderful Christmas Break:

1. Chelsea (and Gavin)- best friend since forever
2. Jade- my other best friend since forever
3. My Dad- I often neglect to put the time and effort into this relationship I should
4. Jenny Simpson- As much as I don't want her back in Nashville for the reasons she was here so much, I do miss our Sunday afternoons
5. Ed Camera and family- just good for the soul

2009-12-18T10:48:00.004-06:00

"When one falls in the river,

the one who rescues them

shares in their new life forever."

- Mohawk Proverb

when we walk with people through the hard places

when we sit with them in the midst of their suffering

when we wipe their tears and say "I've been there"

when we offer the hope that night eventually ends

when we show compassion and mercy

when we simply hold their hands and let them grieve

when we aren't afraid to look at their pain in the face and acknowledge it

when we do no more than offer our presence as a reminder that they are not alone

we pull them out of the rivers and back onto dry land

we participate in their lives and change their stories

and in doing this,

we become part of both.

2009-12-11T00:12:00.002-06:00

Jesus was born into a family.

I know- not the normal Advent slogan, but that's what I keep coming up with this year.

Jesus Christ, Savior of All, the I AM, was born into a family.

I can't exactly put my finger on what is so profound about that for me, but its resonating within me. I think, perhaps, it may have something to do with my deep need for community.

The fact that Jesus came to be inside of a family unit speaks depths into each of our needs for community. For if Jesus Christ, Son of God, needed a family, then surely each of us do too.

I think the fact that the Savior was not exempt from the beautifully complicated relationships that one has with parents and siblings says something about the deep needs in each of our lives for genuine relationships. Who knows you better than your parents? Your siblings? No one.

They are the people who have seen you at your best and at your worst.

They know you intimately.

And I think we all need that. No one is exempt from the need of community.
There is something within each of us that cries out to others- a deep calling to deep.

Sometimes after one has experienced a broken relationship or a failed community, they try and close this place off. They build walls and defenses around it. But that doesn't stop that place from being there. And eventually that need for others will break through all the barriers and walls and show itself.

So Jesus Christ was born into a family.

So this Christmas season, I'm letting it remind me that we all need somebody.

We all need family.

We all need community.

We all need a place to know, and to be known.

That its not a weakness when I need a shoulder to lean on or a friend to hold onto to.

That there is no shame in simply needing time and space to commune with my family.

That the most natural thing in the world is our need to have genuine relationships with others.

The need for community is a trademark of humanity.

The yearning for family and relationships is a basic instinct.

We all have moments where we need to be reminded that we are not alone.

Especially at Christmas.

Traffic School?

2009-12-11T00:01:00.003-06:00

I had to go to traffic school today (shhhh.....don't tell Mom).
And really it wasn't that bad. Except I was the oldest person in the class.

Anyway, there was this guy in the class who wasn't from Tennessee. He was from Mississippi. And we, being the entire class, started to discuss how he came to be in a Tennessee driving school. Turns out that he is a musician and is consistently playing gigs in Nashville. So, thus the Tennessee ticket and driving school.

Anyway, before we knew it we had convinced him to get his guitar from his car and sing a few songs for us. And he did. And what struck me was that this musician couldn't stop talking about how much he loved music. He just glowed when he talked about his band, his songs, his tours, and was so excited about music that he was thrilled to death to even play in the middle of driving school in some Metro classroom.

And I was jealous of that Mississippi born musician.
Because all I could think about was: Is there anything I am that passionate about?

Is there anything I am so passionate about that I can't shut up about?
Something that its so much a part of me that it simply oozes out of me wherever I am at.?Something that is so consuming in my heart that I'm willing to tell whoever where ever all about it? And be thrilled about such an opportunity?

I think I've misplaced my passion. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go find it.
I'm not going to let some Mississipian have all the fun.

2009-12-08T22:33:00.003-06:00

"Trust at the mercy of the response it receives is a bogus trust..."- Brennan Manning

I say I have faith. I say I trust God. I say I believe that He is doing what is best for me despite how the situation looks. I pray. I say "thy will be done...". I am good at having the words. But at the end of the day, the words are nothing if not back up by action.

How many times at the end of the day, somewhere in the deep caverns of my heart, do I wonder if God has forgotten me? How many times do I cry because I feel lost or abandoned? How often do the words "When? Why? Where?" spring from my lips? Why do the words of a popular song "Remember your people, remember your children, remember your promise, O God" resound so loudly within my heart?

I say I have faith. But at the end of the day, I question whether God remembers me. I question whether or not He is being Who He has promised to be. I say I trust Him, but I base that trust upon what evidence I can see.

And as Manning points out, that is not trust at all. If I really trusted God, evidence or no evidence, I would put one foot in front of the other unswervingly knowing never fearing or feeling alone. I guess I too often forget that God really owes me nothing.

Cause in the grand scheme of things, God loves me. And that love should be enough. Just the gift of receiving His love, forgiveness, and grace should be enough for me. I should not need anything else. I should want for nothing more. I should trust because His love is the only response I need.

Sometimes, I just need to be reminded of that. Sometimes I need to be reminded that if my faith is based upon evidence, then its not faith at all. Sometimes I feel as if I know nothing about faith or trust at all.

Thank you, Aristotle

2009-12-07T10:17:00.003-06:00

"Hope is a waking dream..."- Aristotle

I had a conversation the other night about teenagers and dreaming. A converstaion about how one of the indredible things about teenagers is their ability to have dreams about how life might turn out. That at their age and innocence they still have hope that whatever they imagine life will be like, might actually come to be.

We had the conversation in the context, that as adults, some of us have lost our ability to have dreams. To have hope. To believe that what we want, what we desire, can actually be. I find this to be very true, and very sad.

Life never really turns out the way you imagine it would at sixteen. Some dreams don't come true. Some things aren't achieved. Some dreams you lose hold of slowly, like sand slipping out your hand so slightly that you never notice the lack of it until its completely gone. Some dreams shift, they change or fade away. Other dreams can get lost or ripped away in a moment. But you still feel each loss. And when we lose dreams, there is a grief. A hurt. Its like a part of ourselves has left.

And since it hurts, I think that we stop dreaming. Because life is hard enough, has enough stress and worry without inflicting this hurt upon ourselves. But I think that when we do this, we in effect, lose our ability to hope as well.

I love Aristotle's quote, "Hope is a waking dream." Because, in essence, what are dreams but hope of what we want life to turn out to be. And hope is the conscious factor of these dreams. So when we lose our ability to dream, to imagine, to conjure, we lose our ability to hope.

I know that every time I dream, there is the possibility that that dream won't turn out. Every time I imagine what could be, I know that it isn't what will be. I realize that every time I hold hope for a situation in my heart, there is a distinct reality that that hope will never be fulfilled.

And sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it hurts so much all we can do is become numb.

But I think the numbness, I think the lack of dreaming, I think the absence of hope- that is far worse. That losing our ability to hope and dream does far more damage to our soul.

Is it hard to relearn how to hope and dream like we did when we were fifteen? Absolutely. And I don't think the point is to go back to that type of dreaming completely. I think we need to dream adult dreams- dreams that are full of the hope we can feel despite the fact we know that life always isn't picture perfect or easy. Dreams that will occur with the knowledge that they might actually never be. And I think it takes far more courage and guts to dream this way.

But just because something is hard, doesn't mean its not worth it. I think that to relearn how to dream, how to have hope, I believe those are worth the effort they take.

fairy tales

2009-12-07T10:14:00.000-06:00

As children, we grow up on fairy tales. We were told them before bed, we watched Disney make magical movies about them, and we acted them out as we played pretend as children.
For children, fairy tales are wonderfully magical stories full of hope and perfect happy endings. Stories full of princesses, princes, wicked queens who never win, fairy godmothers, elves and dwarfs.

However, most people do not know that fairy tales began as stories that were told to adults full of gruesome and cruel darkness. These stories were not intended for children in the least. Actually, most fairy tales came to be as stories women told as their way of rebelling against the constraints placed upon them by the restrictive societies they live in.
How is that something with a beginning and elements so dark within them have becomes something that children dream about and celebrate?

We treat fairy tales now as something to be achieved and as the perfect story to try and obtain, but in reality they were never meant for this purpose. To strive to try and achieve a fairy tale life is to try and strive to achieve something that doesn’t exist and was never intended to exist.
Fairy tales began as a way for the oppressed to speak out about what they suffered without actually doing so. These stories were their way of highlighting the dark truth of what they suffered. However, throughout the centuries we have squeezed the darkness out of these tales and replaced them with trivial light. And these stories, void of their original intent, are what we tell are children. And subsequently, what all children end up trying to achieve.

Now I love Disney’s Cinderella as much as the next person, but I’ve come to realize that life will never work like this particular version of a fairy tale. That things don’t always work out, that fairy godmothers don’t always prevail, and that sometimes there is no perfect solution or happy ending.

I’m not saying that life is devoid of happiness or magical moments, but I’m saying that setting our children up to strive for a perfect “fairy tale” ending that actually never existed is unrealistic and unfair.

Life is hard. Life is messy. Life is occasional dark and sometimes cruel. And we should not shield ourselves from that truth. We should recognize and acknowledge it. We should learn how to survive those times, so that we can come out triumphant on the other side.

I guess what I’m saying is that we should all realize that life is not a fairy tale in the way we know it. That there will be darkness and hardship and sometimes no perfect happy ending.
But I’m also trying to say that this doesn’t mean life isn’t wonderful, magical, or full of wonderful moments.

I think what makes life so amazing is that constant contrast of light and dark. That despite the hard times, we are able to still recognize what good there is. That despite the hurt, we are still able to feel hope and joy. That even when we are broken, we know that someday there will be wholeness again. I think if we are just honest enough with ourselves to stop expecting a Disney fairy tale life, we might end up more satisfied with the tale we are actually living in.

2009-12-06T11:44:00.003-06:00

Top Five: Things I Wish You Could Give People for Christmas

1. a positive attitude
2. rest- wouldn't it just be great if you could give somebody a full nights sleep? I know some people who desperately need thing.
3. perspective
4. hope
5. the ability to see themselves as God does

2009-12-01T09:41:00.002-06:00

I have a book that I am doing that is supposed to help me with writing. What it really does is ask great questions that help you put emotions and memories onto paper. I'm trying to be more disciplined about hand writing things these days. Anyway, I'm rambling.

Today one of the questions I worked on was centered around high school and friendships. It asked "who did you hang out with in high school? who did you spend the most time with? were they good influences or bad influences? what did you learn?"

Those are some really great questions and it was kind of fun to go back and think about high school. As much as we all complain about how bad high school was, it also was wonderful and fun.

But it started me thinking about the high schoolers I work with. So much of what I do with my youth group and how I interact with them comes from what I learned from spending time with my youth group in high school. When I dream about what I want our youth group to look like and what I want these kids to experience when they come together, I find that I want them to experience what I had. I want them to experience the friendship, the support, the pranks, the laughter, the love, the learning. Sure we didn't all get along all the time, but when push came to shove we did.

Sometimes I forget how much my past really influences my present. And how my experiences shade what I want for others to experience. I don't think this is a bad thing. Obviously, what we've lived is what we try to recreate for others- especially if it was a wonderful experience.

But I do think that I need to try and remember that it can't always be the same. And won't always be the same. And that my teenagers will form a group identity of their own. And I hope that in ten years they can look back and feel the same joy at their memories as I do at mine.

2009-11-30T20:22:00.003-06:00

As the Thanksgiving season comes to a close, I realize I have so very much to be thankful for.

I have a home- several in fact. Not just places where I can come to at the end of the day and rest, but places full of love and people who care about me. I have a home in the town where I work, and I have home where my family is. Both are incredibly special and I am so thankful for each of their unique places in my life.

I have a family- and such a special family. I think my family means so much to me because for the most part, the big part of my family didn't have to be my family. My step family have gone from complete strangers to true family. And its so special that these people, most of all my step father, love me. Not because they have to, but because they choose to.

I have a job I love- granted I complain about it, but overall its such a wonderful thing I get to do each and every day. Wake up and participate in people's lives. Spend time with kids and teenagers. I get to plan worship and make music and get paid to do so. Its not a bad gig.

I have a good life. I can see, I can hear, I can feel. I'm incredibly blessed and don't stop often enough to remember that. So I wanted to do that now.

2009-11-29T08:07:00.000-06:00

It's a wonderful life! It really is.... It's a Wonderful Life is also one of my absolute favorite Christmas movies... so in honor of the start of the Advent Season:

Top Five Christmas Movies of All Time

1. Its a Wonderful Life
2. Love Actually
3. Holiday Inn
4. Scrooged
5. Home Alone

Love this time of the year!

2009-11-27T22:21:00.001-06:00

“Stop right there, that’s exactly where I lost it. See that line, I never should have crossed it.”- Relient K

How many of us really realize exactly where our lives went out of control? Or maybe not even out of control, but just off track? Or maybe even not off track… Life might be right on track and you still might feel like you’ve lost it. Or unsatisfied with life. Or that you have missed the point of it all. Life doesn’t have to awful to be not what you want.
Life can be everything that anyone could ever want it to be, but still not what YOU want it to be. However, we all get caught up in the idea that there is a way our life should look and if it looks that way, we should be satisfied. (OR there is a way you life shouldn’t look and as long as your life doesn’t look like that, then you are ok).
I guess what I’m trying to say is that you can wake up, have no major worries, be able to sit in the sunshine enjoying that first cup of morning coffee, and still be slightly dissatisfied. There is more to life than a job. There is more to life than a house. There is more to life than pretty days, even if they are worry free.
Life is more than having it all together and having all the foundational stuff in place. I can have a job that is stable and that loves me and that I rock at, but if when I go home at night I sit in an empty house if I hate my life at that point- then that’s a problem. I am more than my job, my degrees, and my chosen career path. I’d rather be the culmination of the time spent with people I love, dinners shared in a house of laughter, and having someone to talk to at the end of the day.
Yes I want to be good at my job. Yes I want to matter and make a difference with the work I do. But I’d much rather be a good person, a good friend, a good daughter or sister. I’d much rather make a difference by sharing my life with people I love than the people I’m paid to know (that sounds meaner than I mean it).
I love my job. I love how I get to work, where I work , the people I work with. But at the end of the day, I’d rather love my life.

2009-11-27T22:19:00.000-06:00

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. “

I have always had issues with The 23rd Psalm. I hate to admit it, but it has always slightly annoyed me. I never understood why people used to quote it as comforting and reassuring, when it always left me feel slightly uneasy.

However, I have recently stumbled across what I think might be the problem I have with the 23rd Psalm. You see in the 23rd Psalm the majority of the action verbs are attributed to the Lord and not to me. The LORD- is, makes, leads, restores, leads, with, comfort, prepare, anoints. It is the Lords who works and the Lord who is the one who is making things happen. The only verbs attributed to me are “shall not want, walk, dwell.” None of these verbs are things that take much effort on my part.

You see the problem I have with this Psalm is that it tells me that I am dependent upon God and what God will do. There is little I can do to make things happen in this Psalm. I am dependent upon God for comfort, for goodness, for mercy, and for the still waters. I cannot produce these on my own. The problem with this Psalm is that it highlights how little that I am capable of. It shows me how utterly dependent I am upon God for everything. It reminds me that in spite of all of my intellect, experience, friends, or family, that at the end of the day I am have to rely on God alone to provide and protect. That for someone who tries so hard to be independent and self-reliant, I am actually quite dependent.
This psalm makes me uneasy because it forces me to admit I can’t do this on my own. I can’t be my own supply. I can’t provide for myself. This psalm makes me uneasy because it reminds me that we were created to be dependent on a higher power. That we are like sheep, dependent upon a Shepherd who loves and leads; and that this psalm annoys me because of how amazingly reassuring it is to be told that I don’t have to be independent, self-reliant, or self-sustaining. This Psalm allows me to admit that despite all my ok-ness, that I still need someone to lead, provide, and comfort. And that is how its suppose to be.

Top Five

2009-11-22T14:06:00.002-06:00

After two years on my own, I am living with people again. A mom, two teenagers (boy and girl), a dog, and now my cat. And its incredible. Yes its different adjusting to having people around all the time again, but actually quite good for me.

So this week: top five things I love about where I live now:

1. having a cat- I finally got a pet of my own. And its fun. And she purrs. And is cuddley. And follows me around- I like the adoration part.
2. Getting goodnight hugs- LOVE IT!
3. When you cook dinner, there are people there to eat it instead of eating leftovers for days on end.
4. Having coffee made when you wake up in the morning- the mom leaves for work at 6a, about the time when I wake up and there is always coffee ready. I'm going to be spoiled.
5. Cell phone reception! Gone are the days of sitting in the Food Lion parking lot at all hours of the night so I can finish a conversation!

So what started out as a really stressful thing, has turned into something quite lovely. As usual.

2009-11-19T12:21:00.002-06:00

How do you put grace into words? Is it really possible to tell someone what grace is? To capture the magnitude and almost indescribable nature of grace in mere words? Can you condense grace into a sermon, or a thirty minute youth lesson?

We are going over basic ideas of faith right now in our youth group. We've talked about sin, forgiveness, love, Christ, and this week we are supposed to be talking about grace. But I'm having trouble capturing this "grace" in a lesson.

Sure, I can pull out the old 3 types of grace- prevenient, sanctifying, and justifying. I can quote Scripture- "it is by grace we have been saved". But how do you really explain to people what grace does? What it is? How it works?

I don't know. I'm going to have to figure it out by Sunday afternoon though. I'm starting with the big three- the big three things that I know about grace.

Grace:

1. is costly- grace costs someone something. If you are the receiver of grace, the person who extended the grace paid a price. If you are the giver of grace, it will cost you. There is always a price with grace. Something that someone loses in order to offer grace up.

2. is undeserved- grace is nothing that we can earn or be worthy of. Grace is not something we can live up to or become deserving of. That is one of the distinct characteristics of grace, it is entirely out of our ability to earn.

3. produces change- you can not receive grace and remain the same. Being the receiver (or the bearer) of grace marks you. Produces a change. You can't experience something that deep and that special and remain the same person you were. Grace always produces a reaction- for every action (grace given/received), there is an equal or opposite reaction (what the person on the other end does with the experience). Its simple physics.

The "easiest" (although its not easy at all) way to learn about grace is to experience it. You can hear about, be taught lessons around it, sing songs about, and even read about it- but until you experience it- you don't really get whats so incredible about it.

An extra hour or two

2009-11-15T08:03:00.002-06:00

Lately I have needed more time in the day. But really, what do I need it for?

Top Five Things I Might Do with an Extra Hour in the Day:

1. TAKE A NAP
2. Watch this week's Grey's Anatomy
3. Go ride my bike
4. Nothing- I would sit and do absolutely nothing
5. Call my sisters

2009-11-12T11:14:00.002-06:00

The sermon on Sunday was based on scripture in Luke on the Widow's Offering. When she gave all she had which was not much, and Jesus commented on how much she was giving because she gave out of her poverty while other people gave out of her wealth.

I heard the sermon (twice actually) but I heard it in the way that you hear the news as you are getting ready in the morning. You are aware that someone is talking, but you aren't necessarily digesting any of the information.

But later in this week, I've gone back to it. Re-read the scripture. Tried to remember what was said in the sermon. And in my life right now (although the poverty thing I can totally relate to) I don't think that this story is about money for me.

Right now, I'm drained. I'm tired. Worn out. Burnt out. I have very little left to give emotionally. And since I'm not perfect, I'm willing to admit that I've felt a slight bit resentful when people have needed emotional support lately. I can usually squash those sneaky little selfish thoughts down, but still the moments they are there I do feel them.

But maybe, like the widow, when I give out of my poverty- emotional or financial- that means more. Maybe it means so much more when I give support, encouragement, comfort, or whatever when I am empty and dry myself, it makes what I give mean so much more.

2009-11-11T12:45:00.002-06:00

O beautiful for heroes proved in liberating strife, who more than self their country loved, and mercy more than life... O beautiful for patriots dream that sees beyond the years thine alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears..." - Bates

I went to a Veteran's Day service earlier today. And it was beautiful and touching.

And I'm reminded of how amazing our freedom is. And how lucky I am that I enjoy this.

In fact, I don't just enjoy my freedom- I take it for granted.

I never think from day to day about having the basic rights.

I just assume that they are my rights.

I don't give a second thought to what to eat, where to go, whether to go back to school, whether to keep my job, move my residence...these are things that are solely my decision.

But for a lot of people in the world, they don't have the basic freedom to make these choices.

And I forget that. And I take the rights that were won for me at a great price and forget what precious treasures they really are.

At the service, a wife of one of the service men made a thought-provoking comment.

"You know, we forget that we are at war. Its like our military is at war,but our country is not."

And I happen to think she is right. And that breaks my heart a little.

I'm not going to get political. I'm not going to share my opinions on the war, the military, and the decisions being made.

But I will say (especially after living in a community 20 miles from a military base for 3 years)

that whether I AGREE with the war or not, there is a war. And therefore, I owe what support I can give to our military. That whether we agree with the decisions being made, we owe our support and love and gratitude to the men and women being ordered to carry out those decisions.

So today, I just want to say that I am so thankful that there are people who can see beyond themselves and serve our country (even when they might agree with what they are fighting for.) I am thankful for the people who value the whole more than the part, even when the part forgets what debt is owed to them.

I am thankful for those who gave up pieces of their freedom and life to secure mine.

2009-11-11T09:51:00.002-06:00

Mondays matter even if they are disguised as Wednesdays.

To make this Monday matter: DONATE BOOKS!

-61% of low-income families have no books in their homes.
-43% of adults with the lowest levels of literacy live in poverty.
-55% of children have an increased interest in reading when given books at an early age.

Easy ways to solve this problem:
1. Donate books you will never read again.
2. Donate books that you have had for over 2 years and will never read.
3. Call your school, library, foster organization to see if they need books.

Imagine what it would be like if you couldn't read.

Top Five

2009-11-09T09:58:00.002-06:00

I don't have a normal talent. In fact, I'm not sure its entirely useful. Well, I mean its useful. But not useful in the sense that I tell people about it. Normal people, they have athletic abilities, musical abilities, you know- the talents that people can see and admire.

My talent- as much as I love it- is kind of embarrassing. See the thing is, my talent is reading. Not like, yay I can read, but like I read at abnormally fast speeds and maintain/analyze vast quantities of information. Its a geek talent. But I will admit, it helped in school.

Anyway, since reading is my thing, I devour books. I'm not even joking- I read all the time and everything I can get my hands on. Its not uncommon in our family that when we buy a book, I automatically get dibs because I will finish it faster than anyone else.

And I'm not bragging, I'm just stating facts.

ANYWHO- that brings us to yesterday's top five and why its so important to me.

You see reading has always been an escape for me. A stress relief. A place where I can unwind and enjoy someone else's story. And while I read various and lots of books, there are some that I keep going back to. They are like a favorite sweatshirt or a comfort food.

Top Five Books I Read Year after Year:

1. East of Eden- Steinbeck
2. Anne of Green Gables- Montgomery
3. Hamlet- Shakespeare
4. Let Your Life Speak- Palmer
5. The Things They Carried- O'Brien

burn baby burn

2009-11-06T14:20:00.002-06:00

Last May, my family's law office burnt. Not all the way to the ground burnt, but burnt as in there was nothing left inside. Basically all that survived were some of the more metal objects and the structure that encompassed what used to be an office. A thriving place of activity and work.

It took years to build up the office. We literally work years on making it what we needed it to be. Situating it so that it we could work within it as best as we could. The basic frame of the office never changed, but the insides changed over and over again. And within a few terrible hours, it was all gone. And there was nothing I could do. Except, that when it was all over, I could help pick up the pieces. Rebuild what once was and helped make it better than before.

Someone once said, "Love is friendship set on fire."

Right now, I feel as if I'm sitting in the middle of the forest fire season in California. To my left are burning acres, and to my right are the acres that have been scorched and left to smolder.

I have two sets of friends. Four people who are fairly significant people in my life who are playing with such fire.

Two of the friends were already best friends when I met them. And as time progressed, their friendship caught fire and grew into something more. Then as quickly as it had begun, their fire burnt out and their friendship became less than it was before. While the fire burnt, it was full of heat and color and was absolutely wonderful. But when it was over, the only thing left was the bare structure. And even that was barely standing.

I have another set of friends. And their friendship is flickering. Its not quite a blaze yet, or even really a flame. But there is heat and its starting to burn. I just don't know what to do.

What keeps one fire burning while another smolders out? What causes one flame to endure while another dwindles into less than before and wrecks its devastation? And what do we do when we are the ones watching things burn?

I guess what I do in this situation is what I did with my family. I wait around and help pick up the pieces. I wait for the fire to burn or not burn, and if things go wrong, I help pick the pieces back up. I support what is still standing. I have faith that what is burning will continue to burn. And that what has burnt up will be able to burn again.

2009-11-02T12:53:00.004-06:00

It might not have appeared this way but, I still believe that Mondays matter greatly.

So to catch us up: here are four (three for the ones I missed in Oct and then one for this particular Monday) things to do that will help make your Monday matter more:

1. Protect yourself with Internet Safety- Research shows that the emotional impact of internet identity theft has been parallel with that of victims of a violent crime. Keep yourself from becoming one of the 5,479 that are victimized this way daily.

2. Change Your Lightbulbs- By changing over to a compact flourescnet lightbulb you can save $30 over the life of the bulb and they will last up to 10x longer than your regular bulbs. If every home replaced 5 frequently used lights bulbs with CFL bulbs, close to $8 billion a year in energy costs could be saved.

3. Register to Vote- 71 million eligible voters didn't vote in the 2004 presidential election. That's a shame. Especially considering how hard some people fought for everyone to earn the right to vote and gain a say in how our country is run. Let's change this!

4. PARTY with a purpose- $747 is the average amount spent annually on holiday gifts. Every week there are: 79,623 births, 42, 884 weddings, and 5, 812,037 birthdays! This year if everyone gave up their birthday gifts, more than $3million could be donated to a worthy cause or a charity. So next time you party, party for a cause bigger than yourself!

2009-11-01T20:12:00.002-06:00

Sometimes pieces of the sky fall right on our heads. And in the moment, it seems like the worst thing that could possibly happen.

But more often than not, when we pick up the piece of sky and examine it, it turns out to be not as bad as expected.

Sometimes when we are given a piece of news, we react. We immediately assume worse case scenario and freak out.

Then we hear the rest of the story and realize that things are actually going to be ok after all.

So today's top five topic:

Top Five Events that started as bad news and actually turned into good things:

1. My parents divorce- if they had never split, i'd never have gotten the wonderfully amazing complex diverse and large family I have now.
2. When I was told I was getting a little sister- I was so mad. I had been the baby for 7 years. I didn't want anyone else in our family- best thing ever to happen.
3. When a very close friend dropped out of a school program we were doing together- I felt abandoned. Turned out to be the push I needed to grow close with other people.
4. When I got into my first huge and scary fight adult fight with my dad- paved the way for us to be able to talk about the hard things.
5. When I was told last night that the place I currently live is no longer available to me, and I kinda became homeless. In the past 24 hours so many amazing doors have opened and I have seen God's faithfulness in a new and huge way.

Sometimes what starts off as a mess can turn into the most beautiful thing in the world.

2009-10-29T10:56:00.002-05:00

I don't think success looks like what we imagined it would. Personal success, professional success, any other kind of success.

I don't think success appears to us in the major ways. In the big things. I don't think success shows up in the major milestones. I think that we get true glimmerings of success in the little things. And I have learned this the hard way.

I have waited to see success in my job, in my life in the big things. In a certain number of people attending my programs. In consistency of work. In grades. In number of dates. In number of friends. In ability to be independent, in handling problems myself. In the amount of responsibility I am trusted with.

But recently, I've figured out this is never how we see success. I think success always is sort of disguised.

I've seen success disguised as:
-a 730 am phone call from a kid who missed the bus and had no way else to get to school.
-a 3 hour converstaion about life with a senior
- being the first person sought when a middle schooler got her heart broken
-having my office flooded at 330 every afternoon when school lets out
- being able to show grace to 2 kids who got in serious trouble and thought I would kick them out of the youth group
-finally getting one of the kids to speak more than 3 syllables to me after 4 years here
-fixing my own sink when it broke
-changing my own tire
-going to a party alone and being comfortable in that
-making the right decision even if it isn't what I want to do
-finally feeling great in my own skin and loving my own life.

Success is not found on the mountain tops, in big paychecks, or with having absolute power.
Success is knowing that you are doing your best.

And maybe I shouldn't call it success. Cause sometimes that makes it sound cheaper than it really is. Because these triumphs in my life are so much more than success. They are signs that I am on the right path. They are affirmations that I am pouring myself into the right things. They are the things that keep me putting one foot in front of the other instead of running in the opposite direction.

I think I would have felt better along time ago if I had expanded my idea of what "success" looked like.

And I'm willing to wager that success for me is not going to look like success for anyone else.

2009-10-25T21:43:00.002-05:00

Top Five- Songs that would go on the soundtrack to my life...

Music is a huge part of my life. So this week- if my life had a sound track, these songs would be on there:

1. The Story- Brandi Carlisle
2. Long Way Around- Dixie Chicks
3. Hold the Light- Caedmon's Call
4. My Sweet Charade- Stephen Kellog and the Sixers
5. Shower the People- James Taylor

2009-10-21T09:32:00.002-05:00

I never really considered that it might not be about me. I guess that's fairly self-centered of me, but it's the truth. I always assumed that it was dependent upon me and where I was at.

Let me back up. You see, for awhile now, I have been considering that it might be time for me to end this chapter in my life and start the next. I've been considering what it would mean for me to leave my job and the town I now live in. I have been praying and searching for an answer to this situation and not quite finding peace.

A part of me knows that I have learned what I can in this situation and that I have grown so much. And that part seriously considered it time to move on. To find the next challenge, the next adventure. But there was another part of me, not as strong, but just strong enough to keep me hesitating. To keep me praying for confidence and assurance in this decision. For God to let me know when I was ready to move on.

But I never considered that it wasn't about me. But you see, when you pray, God answers. That's the insane part. You always get your answer- you may not like it- but you get it.

A situation has emerged in my life (not exactly in my life, but in the people's lives whom I love dearly in my current situation and therefore my life is wrapped up in this situation) and this situation was like a fist to the face. It was a clear answer that it was not time for me to move on. That until this situation resolves, I have to stay where I'm not. That I may be ready to move on, but other people need me to stay.

I never considered that maybe my life, and my call, was not about me. That is was more about others. That my life- all my experiences, emotions, training, friendship, relationships, heartaches- that all of that have formed who I am so that I am perfectly prepared to stand by, for, and in front of these loved ones of mine during this time. That until there is resolution, I can use the talent I've been given to comfort, to encourage, to protect, to defend, to simply walk through this with them. And to be honest, I know in my heart that is why I never found perfect peace in leaving before.

Its like the trees in autumn. The tree itself can actually be biologically ready to change colors weeks before they do. For its not just about the tree and the trees readiness. Its about the environment. Its about the temperature of the air, the moisture level. The change from green to red is not just about the tree- but a communal process between the tree, the environment, and the weather.

I may be ready to change, but its not just about me. Its also about those whose life is connected to mine. So eventually change will happen. And the time will come. But at least now I know, its not right now.

2009-10-18T18:42:00.002-05:00

Top Five - People I am praying for today

1. Michelle- a young mother facing breast cancer with incredible strength and courage (and a great sense of humour)
2. Travis- a high school boy who is a little bit lost in life but is searching and has an incredible heart
3. my boss- we've recently crossed that line where we are more friends than co-workers, he in the middle of such a terrible/wonderful time
4. Allison- baby sister, at first semester of college, dealing with figuring out this new life and finding closure on the old
5. Martin- that he find a job (and that its not 10,000 miles away)

Top Five

2009-10-11T14:31:00.003-05:00

So I made a huge work mistake today. Not the kind of mistake that is going to cause harm, but the kind that will require alot of fast talking and quick acting to fix. And all because I stink at knowing what day is which. And I've been beating myself up about it. I forget that mistakes happen. That they are just part of life.

So today's top five: 5 things that I've done right this week:

1. Ignored paperwork and spent two hours talking to a high school senior about her college fears.
2. Cleaned my mom's house so she didn't have to.
3. Called my grandmother and talked for awhile.
4. Planned the Advent season music
5. Made myself available for a friend who needed a listening ear

Quit playing game with my heart...

2009-10-11T07:15:00.003-05:00

Funny how church signs have gone from being a place to advertise a place's affiliation and times of services to a place where they can advertise their theology in a ten words or less cleverly crafted phrase. I will go ahead and admit that church signs annoy me. Often their cute motto's or "prayer is the solution to everything" advice makes me roll my eyes but usually doesn't really upset me.

Yesterday I saw a church sign and it just made me angry. Probably more angry than it should, but it really hit a nerve for me.

The sign read: "Soul-Winning Conference, date, time, etc..."

The thing that made me mad: "soul- WINNING".

I'm sorry, but how exactly does somebody win a soul? And whose souls are we trying to win? Is the point to try to win our souls? Or to try and win other peoples? And if a soul can be won, does that mean we can lose souls as well? And who keeps the score? And what is the deciding factor in whether a soul has been won? And who the heck ever decided that once a soul was won then that soul was magically transformed into a Christian soul?

And how is this a conference? Do you herd a bunch of "lost" souls into a room and have some kind of "Price is Right" game show? Or is this a place you come where they teach you how to win souls? Kind of like football camp for Christians? Or maybe more like the NFL draft?

I'm being a little mean and judgemental, and I'm apologize. I don't really mean to be. But the premise behind the idea that we can "win" souls is just appalling to me. Souls are not game pieces. Souls are not something to be acquired or won like some monopoly real estate. And if they can, we are in no means capable of winning something as priceless as a soul. And to be truthful, I really don't believe that souls can be lost. How do you loose a soul? How do you misplace the thing that makes you who you are?

I believe that souls are what makes humans human. Our soul is the essence within us that allows us to feel, breathe, believe, and be who we are. Our soul is the part of us that believes in something more and where we love from. Souls are the part of us that experience love. I believe that people's hearts and souls are very closely related. I don't think souls were meant to be won. I think souls were meant to be loved. To be cared for. To be nurtured. To be accepted. To be appreciated. I believe souls were meant loved into truth, not convinced into religion.

I'm a Christian. I believe in Jesus. But I don't think He ever told me to go win souls. I don't think He even ever mentioned to go win people. I don't ever think He intended this to become some kind of game. I just remember Him telling me to love people. And that's how they would know Him. Through His love in us.

And this makes me believe that loving another person's soul until the point they recognize that it is in fact God's love and not mine, is not a quick process like the idea of "winning" suggests. In fact, I think that helping people believe and discover the Love that is already in their soul is a slow and gradual process. Granted there are events that can act as a catalyst and speed the process up. But mostly, loving souls takes time.

I hope I never get to the point where my focus is seeing how many souls I can win or convince or recruit. I hope I always remember that the point is to see how many souls I can love. And hopefully from that, souls will know that they are loved by Love itself.

perspectiveness

2009-10-05T17:57:00.003-05:00

"A rock piles ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral." -A. de Saint Exupery

In high school, I struck up an unlikely friendship. It was one of those friendships that made absolutely no sense. He was a he and I was a she. He was a athlete and I was kind of a nerd. He was most definitely a "player" and I was most definitely not. And to be honest, he was jerk (actually I have another word for it, but jerk is what I've decided to go with here on a public forum) and obviously, I'm not a jerk (at least for the most part). We had nothing in common and in fact, I shouldn't have been his friend. He wasn't very nice. He was never mean to me, but I consistently wanted to punch him for the way he treated most everyone else. I mean there were good qualities- he had a sense of humor and actually he could be quite charming, but you rarely saw this part of him.

But for some reason, I maintained the friendship. And we stayed friends through college. Not great friends, but the kind of friends who would occasionally call and hang out all night sporadically. He would need help on homework and I would help. I would be moving furniture and he would bring his truck. I wouldn't let him tell me about his social life, because I'm pretty sure I would disapproved of everything. And he still was a jerk, and now often a jerk even to me.

My roommates often asked me why I held onto this friendship. What made me stick with him even when he gave me every reason to write him off?

And all I could think was that despite the jerkiness, despite the poor choices, and despite everything else, I truly believed that he had the potential to be an absolutely amazing individual. That on those rare occasions that he let his guard down and was kind and compassionate, I would get glimpses of the person he was capable of being. And so I whenever I looked at him, I looked past the way he acted. I looked past the face value evidence of who he was, and tried to always see the potential he had. To always see the person he could choose to be.

I wish that this story had a happy ending. I wish that I could say that he has mellowed and chosen wiser, but that's not what happened. I wish I didn't have to say that eventually he was too mean and too hurtful and we parted ways.

But despite all that, I still see within in the person he could. When I look at him, there is no anger. There is just a deep sense of sadness. He's just choosing to be a rock pile, when within him dwells a cathedral.

And I think, to an extent, we all do this. Either we refuse to see what we really are or we refuse to see what other people are. We look at ourselves and others and we don't see anything of value. We see what's there. We see the pieces of rubble and stone of their lives. We don't stop and look deeper. We don't stop and ponder what these pieces of stone are building. We see only who the person is in that moment, and don't stop to try to see who they will become. We choose not to have hope that someday that pile of stone can become a cathedral.

Of course, every rock pile won't become a cathedral. People are always going to dissapoint, let us down, and hurt us. But I firmly believe that to see the potential, to see the cathedral within someone, and to see them remain a rock pile is still infinitely better than just seeing someone as a worthless pile of stone- unchanging and of little worth. I think it takes far more courage to hope and be dissapointed than to never hope at all. It takes more vision to see what could be possible, than to settle for what is probable.

2009-10-05T13:05:00.002-05:00

Because I still believe that ordinary days can become extraordinary. That Mondays can be just as meaningful as Saturday or Sunday. And that everyday we can change our lives and others.

Every Monday Matters- help the Hungry

Facts:
- the 2nd largest expense for families is food.
-35.1 million Americans have limited access to enough food dur to lack of money or other resources.
-30% of families are foreced to choose between buying food and paying for medical care and medicine.
-96 billion pounds of food are wasted each year.

This is a problem. Today choose to be part of the solution.

What to do:
-Locate organizations near you that support the hungry. Find out what those organizations need and help provide it.
-Donate your time and volunteer at any food pantry, a local soup kitchen, and a homeless shelter.
-Go through your pantry and gather canned and dried food to donate.

Top Five

2009-10-04T14:58:00.003-05:00

Top Five....

Things to do on a lazy fall Saturday:
1. Take a meandering walk
2. Sit in the sun and read
3. Call the people you've been meaning to
4. Rent movies and curl up on the couch and watch them
5. Make the first stew of the season....

Fall is wonderful!

Pocketful of sunshine

2009-09-28T12:10:00.003-05:00

Because beautiful fall Mondays matter a little bit more... Make them matter for someone else too.

There are approximately 2.1 million active and reserve men and women in the US military with hundreds of thousands of troops deployed indefinitely to remote parts of the world. The most requested item by military men and women is a letter. Grab a pen, paper, and envelope and send the letter. Simple things like this can encourage and support total strangers.

If you need help getting connected with somone to write to: visit anysoldier.com.

Top Five

2009-09-27T16:33:00.001-05:00

Top Five: TV characters I wish were my friends in real life

***shout out to Joey Willis for this amazing idea***

1. Sheldon- from the Big Bang Theory
2. Krammer- from Seinfield
3. Jack Bristow- Alias
4. Chandler- from Friends
5. Hodgens- from Bones

Think of all the interesting conversation!

Because Mondays still matter...

2009-09-21T17:07:00.003-05:00

3 things to do for the 2 Mondays I've missed and for today:

1. Prepare for an emergency- Diasters are never planned, but happen anyway. Readiness will reduce fear, anxiety, and potential loss. Prepare today for any kind of tomorrow.

2. Eat healthy- French fries are the most widely eaten vegetables (PROBLEM!). 400,000 people die per year from complications due to laziness and poor eating habits. Just start making changes...and take it one day at a time.

3. Get rid of junk mail- 500 pieces of mail per person per year...what a waste junk mail is. By decreasing your junk mail, you'll save trees, save waste, decrease pollution, save time (the average person spends 8 months in their lives opening up junk mail), and save the postmen time and effort!!!!

Top Five

2009-09-20T19:57:00.001-05:00

Top Five: five nonsensical sounds that make me happy

1. ice cream trucks
2. my Dad when he talks like Daffy Duck- made me laugh when I was five, still has the same effect
3. The ringtone I have set for my youth group (Peter Pans "I Won't Grow Up)
4. wind chimes
5. the sound of typing on a keyboard

2009-09-15T01:42:00.002-05:00

I've been thinking alot about sin lately.
Strange? I kind of thought it was.
But I've been tossing so many ideas surronding the idea of sin in my head that if I don't write them out I might drown in them.

For so long, I've tried to atone for my past mistakes. I've tried to be kind, compassionate, loving, sweet. I've tried to make things as easy for everyone as I can. I've tried to be as much as I could be, hoping that it would make up for the times when I missed the boat completely.

Granted, I never really thought about it in that light. I never realized what exactly I was doing. I never realized that when I always took the backseat, or offered to buy dinner, or do the dishes- that what I was really trying to do was even the score. Right all the wrong I've brought into the universe.

I knew- theorectically and logically- that I was forgiven. I have been told and told countless others that when God forgives, He redeems. He makes it better than we were before. But I honestly have to admit that I was never really living into that truth in my life.

So I've been grappling with sin. And here's where I've landed.

Sin is not a list of rules that I've broken. Sin is not a list of specific actions I've done to wrong my brother. Sin is not a score card.

Sin is when I live outside the boundaries God has placed for me to keep me safe. Sin is when I act in ways that is disrespecting of the love that God has given me. Sin is when I forget who I am and Whose I am.

And because sin is so much more than broken rules, there is no way I can ever make it right. There is no way I can repay the debt. There is no way that I can live like I deserve what I already have received.

That's the beauty of grace. When we've wandered out past the barriers God has placed around us for our security, grace is what comes out to get us. Grace is what ushers us back in- telling us that we have been missed. Grace is what makes it seem like we have never wandered at all.

Sin isn't about breaking rules. Sin is about actions that break God's heart. Sin is about living in a way that is in contrast to the beauty God has planned for us.

2009-09-13T01:28:00.004-05:00

Its time for our Sunday Special.

Since I've been away on vacay- I thought we'd do a vacation top 5 this week...

Top Five Things I Love About Being Away-

1. Turning my cell phone off- and just not caring who calls or texts
2. Being able to take time each day just to think
3. Not having a set schedule
4. SLEEEEEEEEP
5. Good food

Simple things, but so very good things.

beauty and terror

2009-09-13T00:32:00.001-05:00

Alaska is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. It has landscapes that literally leave me breathless. From the majesty of a soaring eagle or the power displayed when the glaciers calve, this is a place that is full of adventure and wonder. Its overwhelming and awesome. Everything about it encompasses you and you give in to the sheer delight of this wilderness.
As beautiful as this place it, it can be sly and deceptive. The same glaciers that enthrall could very well kill. The mountains that paint the horizon with points of inspiration can very well be someone’s path to destruction. It’s a beautiful place, but its also a terrible place.
How is it that something so beautiful can be so destructive? That living amidst the wonder and majesty can come at such high a price? That living in a place that oozes with life and zest could very well be the catalyst for your untimely death?
Things of such beauty and power are always a gamble. You never know whether it will end up in exhilaration or terror. You never know when you choose to enter and interact with a place like this whether you will come out triumphant or broken. It could be oh so good, but it could also go so wrong.
Love is the Alaska of the heart. You never know when you choose to love people whether it will end up beautiful or terrible. You never know whether you will come out the other end whole or in half. You never know whether love will be a live giving event or a life taking event. Love is a gamble. It can be majestic as the mountains, as calm as the coast line, and as enduring as the horizon. However, it could also be terrible as the brutal Alaskan winters or as cruel as one of natures creatures in the middle of winter.
It can leave you feeling amazed and enthralled, or it can leave you feeling beaten and alone.
It it, and always will be, both beautiful and terrible. Love is a gamble. Love is a wilderness. But you always come out the other side changed. And wiser. Which just might be the point of it all anyway.

Saturday Morning Madness...

2009-09-05T09:09:00.002-05:00

Some people I know have started a discussion centered around what they call "the problems about Jesus".

The problem of Jesus is defined as this- Jesus declared Himself as the way, the truth, and the life, and some people have trouble accepting that this is the only way to "salvation."

I'm sure that once I give the theology and logic behind this problem a bit more thought, I will have more intelligent things to say.

But for now- this is what I have.

The things that create problems and cause us to stop and struggle, usually these are the things worth struggling with and figuring out.

That the important thing about the problem of Jesus is that it gets us thinking, reflecting, and searching out the truth.

That even if its a problem for you to claim Jesus as the only way, at least you are admitting that there is a way to find.

Its important to not get so wrapped up in finding the answers as in gaining the experience and wisdom that comes with living your way into the answers.

Long story short: enjoy the problems. They create the interesting tension in life.

Every Monay Matters

2009-08-31T11:24:00.002-05:00

AMBER- America's Missing: Broadcast Emergency Response

76% of the children who are abducted children who are murdered are dead within 3 hours of the abduction and 88.5% are dead within 24 hours.

We can't afford not to pay attention to AMBER alerts.

You would want someone to look out for your child.

What can you do?
Pay attention to the alerts on the freeway.

Download the application to your computer and text message.

Pay a bit more attenion.

All it requires to help protect our children, is a bit of attention.

The End of an Era

2009-08-30T16:59:00.003-05:00

My little sister left for college this week.
That's weird in and of itself.

I still call her my "little" sister even though she is 18 and onher way to being an adult.

But when I picture her, I still see the little seven year old running around the Christmas tree is pj's with her goggle and snorkel on. She's been the baby for forever. And always will be.

Still, she has grown up and moved away to college. The last of us to leave.

Its crazy because as she was moving into her dorm, I actually passed through my hometown.

I stopped at home for a while and I went up to look for something in her bathroom.

And there on her vanity- hanging from a light fixture- was her leather cord cross necklace.

Now I can count on one hand the number of times in recent history I have seen that girl without that particular necklace on. It was her thing. Her signature look. She wore that thing out.

So to see that left behind as she moved on was a sign to me.

That she really has moved on. That she is growing up. That she is starting the next chapter of her adult life. And that she is going to be just fine. That she is ready for it.

You see- her ability to leave her cross hanging there-signals to me her ability and willingess to approach whatever life holds in store for her in this new time of life and not getting trapped by the past chapters. Yet, the fact that she kept the cross and hung it somewhere she could see it told me that she wasn't trying to erase the past. That she is able to look back and see the lessons learned and remember the good memories made.

My little sister is all grown up and moving on. And I couldn't be prouder.

Top Five

2009-08-30T08:04:00.003-05:00

Went to the fair last night. Brought back some nostalgia. So here we go for this week's edition of top five:

Things I Miss About Being a Teenager:
1. Going to school- and getting to see your friends all day every day.
2. Football games on Friday nights (ok I still get to go to these but its a little different)
3. Summer vacation!!!!!
4. Passing notes in the hallway between classes
5. Somebody else cooked dinner (at least in our household)

2009-08-25T13:12:00.002-05:00

There is this story about a man on an African safari deep in the jungle. The guide before him had a machete and was wacking away the tall weeds and thick underbrush. The traveler, wearied and hot, asked in frustration, "Where are we? Do you know where you are taking me? Where is the path!?" The seasoned guide stopped and looked back at the man and replied,

"I am the path."

Did you hear that? That quiet exhalation, so unconscious it almost could go unoticed. But happened out of relief. Did you feel the lightening of your shoulders? The little flip of joy in your heart. Well, I did.

It's nice to be reminded that I don't have to see clearly where I am going. I just have to see clearly the One who is leading me.

I need the reminder that I don't have to follow a certain path, I just have to follow a certain Guide. For He is the Way.

Every Monday Matters #2- Turn Off the Box

2009-08-24T08:50:00.002-05:00

Turn Off Your TV!

How often do we miss opportunities for great conversations because we have the TV on?
How often do we get invested in TV shows instead of in people's lives?
I'm not saying all TV is bad. In fact its a guilty pleasure of mine.

But I am saying that maybe we use it as a crutch too much.

Its a time pit.

So this week- I'm going to watch TV less.

Read more. Make phone calls. Clean my house.

Do that thing I"ve been putting off for months.

This Monday. I'm turning off my TV.

Sunday a Day Late

2009-08-24T08:47:00.002-05:00

--not been good about blogging last week. Hopefully this week will be a little bit smoother and allow for more creative time.

Sunday's Top Five- 5 Things I Love About My Job (since yesterday I wanted to quit...)

1. getting to share in people's lives in an unique way
2. looking out at the congregation on Sunday morning and seeing people who are genuinely happy to be there
3. spending time with young people as they figure out how to live out their faith in their own way
4. watching young people grow in God and discover who He has created them to be
5. Hugs- you get alot of hugs in my job. I love it.

Every Monday Matters

2009-08-17T18:19:00.002-05:00

52 Mondays in a Year.

52 Ways to Make the World A Better Place.

Starting Today.

Monday 1- What Matters the Most

Apparently, the average person spends 100 hours communting to work versus the 80 hours of vacation time.

91 hours per work week for a dual career family with kids.

1.8 hours a day on household chores.

2.6 hours a day watching tv.

That's messed up. We should spend more time doing stuff that actually matters. We should invest our time in the things that last. Not that the things that will end.

What to do about it?
1. Stop and think- make the list of what matters most to you.

2. Create a list of how you currently spend your time.

3. Organize your list and identify activities that are optional and waste time.

4. Rearrange your schedule so you can spend time doing what matters most.

5. Don't waste time.

What matters most to me:

1. my faith- continuing to grow in my relationship with God. moving past complacency.

2. my family- i'm including friends in this category, cause they are the family too.

3. myself- I often let myself take backseat and at this point in my life I need to devote sometime to creating a healthy happier me.

Top Five

2009-08-16T08:34:00.002-05:00

My family and I play a game which we have dubbed "Top Five." We pick a category and then every goes around giving their top five in the category. I am trying to get more dedicated about writing every day- so Sundays (due to it being my extreme work day) are going to become my "Top Five" days.

Today's category: Top 5 Things- that I forget to be thankful for

1. Home- the security and identity that comes from having a happyone
2. Hugs- I forget how much physical affection really encourages me
3. Sight- I watched the sun rise this morning and realized how awful it would be to not be able to visually experience it
4. Adults who shepherded me as a teenager- and still continue to do so
5. Change- often I fight it, but I know it pushes me to grow.

2009-08-13T12:37:00.002-05:00

We have a tendency to get used to stop signs. There is a place near my home, where there is a stop sign that is rarely noticed. People slow down, sometimes even pause- but very few people come to a full and complete stop. And someday- this is going to end badly. There is going to be an accident. Someone is going to get hurt.

When did stop signs become optional? When did they become something that we might see but not respond to? When did we become numb to what they mean? When did bright red signs stop signaling danger or caution?

Stop signs come in so many forms in our lives. And we have become numb to them. When our bodies, our spirits, our hearts start throwing their version of stop signs in our way, too often we continue to barrel down the road we are on. We forget to pause- assess the situation and figure out what the danger might be. We forget that when certain things start trying to slow us down to look and see if we are about to run into something or run over somthing. Often these stop signs come in the form of pain. Whether its heartache, or heart break. Times when our spirits hurt. We forget that the pain is often there to signal that something is amiss in our lives. We try to ignore the pain. Work through it. Bury it under our busyness. We forget that the pain is there for a reason. Often- its there to warn us to stop and slow down and see what lies ahead of us.

There was an episode of Grey's Anatomy that worded it better than I ever could.

"Pain. You just have to ride it out. You can olny hope it goes away on its own. Hope that the wound that caused it heals. There are no solutions, no easy answers. You just breathe deep and wait for it to subdue..."

Stop signs serve a purpose. Sometimes you need to stop for awhile until the danger passes. Until its safe to move again. Until you have a clear way to continue on. We need to start noticing the stop signs again.

2009-08-11T19:12:00.003-05:00

"To confine our attention to terrestrial matters would be to limit the human spirit...."

-Stephen Hawking

Too often I forget that life is not about the here and now. I get caught up in work, school or lack thereof, relationships, etc and I forget that in the end it really doesn't matter. I get caught up in work. I get frustrated, out of whack, and cranky when work goes bad. I have a tendency to let work define me because I forget that there is more to life than work. I stress about school, grades, and whether I'm going to pursue another degree or not. I base my self esteem on what my grades are. I get caught up in relationships- ones that go well, ones that go bad, and the ones that cease to exist. I let these determine my mood and how I feel about myself on a given particular day.

Why do I let such circumstancial things determine me? Why do I get caught up in things that change from moment to moment, day to day instead of remembering that there are more things in heaven and earth.

I forget that this is not permanent. This is not eternal. That this earth will end. That life is about much more than grades, salary, size, home. That faith, hope, love. Those are the things that in the end will matter. That will last. That will follow us long past our mortal lives.

I just have a tendencey to forget that.

Notice Me!

2009-08-04T15:42:00.003-05:00

I went to the youth building yesterday in search of caffine.
But what I found was a white napkin taped to the door of the refrigerator with a note on it written in blue marker. The note said:

"I bet no one even notices me."

At first I smiled, because I'm pretty sure I know the person behind the note.
But I kept thinking about it. It was like a one of those headaches that aren't strong enough to really hurt, but are just present enough to nag you.

I decided its because people are all the doing things just to see if someone notices. And I wonder, how many people actually notice?

Recently, our town has grieved its way through a string of teenage suicides. I think these were last ditch, tragic efforts of kids to get people to notice what they were going through.

But we need to notice people before things get that tragic.

People tape figurative notes to themselves every day. In can be in the shape of words spoken, things gone unspoken, through cloths worn, piercings gotten, hair color, tattoes.

Are we noticing? Do we see the people right in front of our faces?
Are we noticing the people who desperately need us to notice them?

Sanctuary

2009-07-26T18:29:00.003-05:00

"in the cathedrals of New York and Rome, there is a feeling you should just go home, and spend a lifetime, figuring out just where that is..."

-Jump Little Children

I was sitting in church this morning during the late service and since I had already heard the sermon at the first service, I'll admit that my mind started to wander when hearing it for the second time.

I admired the way the light reflected in through the stained glass windows and sparkled beautifully on our pristine white walls. I admired the deep color of the pews and the way our church homey and inviting. I'll admit, I was having a "our sanctuary is just so beautiful" moment in my head.

And I started to think about what a sanctuary was really. Sanctuary. That word. Hmm..... Sanctuaries are supposed to be places of security. A haven. A place of absolute safety and absent of things to fear. Whenever I think of sanctuaries I am taken back to that scene in the "Hunchback of Notre Dame" when the gypsy Esmeralda was running from the soldiers (because being a gypsy was against the law back then) and she runs up to the Cathedral Notre Dame and bangs on the door and cries for "Sanctuary!"

Crying for sanctuary back then meant that the church would protect you. That the soldiers or anyone else couldn't pursue you into the church. That it served as a haven. A place where you didn't have to fear being hunted or attacked.

And I'm assuming this ties in with our idea of holding worship in sanctuaries today. That they be places of security. Of safety. A place where we can be authentic and have no fear of attack. But maybe church isn't that safe and secure place for you? Maybe a physical church "sanctuary" doesn't offer you much comfort or ease your anxiety at all.

Often (of course this is exacerbated because its my place of employment) I leave church with knots in my stomach. Or I'm anxious about people I might have made mad with leadership decisions I"ve had to make that day. I sit in my so called sanctuary and often I worry, fret, and just wait for the next attack. It often doesn't seem like much of a sanctuary.

However, there is this lovely bike trail I ride everyday. It goes along the river and is shaded by trees and has birds. Its simply wonderful. I always feel safe, secure, and peaceful as I ride down this trail. It feels like a sanctuary to me. Much more than my church's building does.

So I wonder, maybe sanctuary doesn't necessarily have to be a place of religious worship. Maybe sanctuaries come in all different shapes and sizes. Maybe they can be bike trails. Or coffee shops. Or emails. Or a friend's house. Or a mother's embrace. Maybe sanctuary can be found in all sorts of people, places, and things.

And maybe we aren't finding it, because we are looking for our preconceived notions of what it should be. Instead of the forms it actually appears in.

Where is your sanctuary? Would you even recognize it if you found it?

Unspoken

2009-07-22T12:30:00.002-05:00

Have you ever noticed that in the Bible you only get the stories from one person's perspective? That there is only one narrator and one person whose thoughts, feelings, emotions, and statements that you get a clear picture of?

What about all the other people in the story? Its struck me recently that maybe as important as what is said in stories in the Bible (or actually just in life maybe) is what goes unsaid. Whose voice you don't hear from. Whose perspective you aren't able to see. Because they have a story too.

I was reading the story of David and Bathsheba recently and I noticed that there is very little about Bathsheba in the story. Besides the fact she was beautiful and loved by David, we find out very little about her. Did she love David? Did she love Uriah? Did her heart break at Uriah's death? Was she relieved at Uriah's death? Did she go willingly to David? Did part of her know that it was wrong? Was she torn in two over this decision?

I know the Bible is a tool God uses to teach us about Himself. That the words within it hold power and sway over our lives. But sometimes I wonder, if the words that aren't in there possible just as powerful.

I'm going to start seeking out what goes unspoken. Intentionally searching for the voices unheard, the perspecitives unshared.

Perhaps there's just as much truth and power in what goes unspoken as there is in what is said loud and clear.

2009-07-01T09:56:00.002-05:00

"For my people have committed two evils; they have forsaken me the fountains of fresh flowing living waters, and then dug cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water." -Jeremiah 2.13

Let it go, Jeremiah. Who cares where they get their drink of water? I mean, what's the big deal? So the people have changed water sources? Only since Jeremiah is a prophet, we should assume he is speaking metaphorically here. And the metaphor is: the Israelites have forgotten their eternal and unending God and turned toward mortal and temporal worship.

And once again, Jeremiah speaks truth not only into that ancient situation, but into my life today. For you see, I have a problem with faith. I just don't have enough of it.

I say I trust God, but I put more trust in my health insurance. I say I love God, and yet my friends or my figure get more of my time and devotion than He does. I say I believe He has a plan that is unfolding in my life, yet I worry and run back and forth down paths trying to figure out which one is right. I say I know He will provide fresh flowing water for my life, but I consistenly carry around a water bottle.

Why am I seeking refreshment from a broken, cracked, limited cistern when I have access to uneding, ever flowing, living water?

Music through the Years

2009-06-03T09:08:00.002-05:00

I sang for the first time in a really long time at a place besides church the other day. I was put last minute into a fundraiser and had about 3 days to prepare something, so obviously I grabbed a song from Les Miserable that I sang for my senior high school choir recital.

I hadn't really thought of or sung this song in about 8 years and when I started singing it, I kinda felt this flood of emotions. (Now I know people consistently tease me about being really emotional, but this was a genuine wave of emotion.) I was amazed at how the words of this song had changed for me. Traditionally, it's the song in the play about unrequited love and heartache. As a high schooler, I thought it held hope and optimism in it too and those were the emotions I would channel when singing it.

However 8 years later, with a bit more life experience and having actually had a broken heart, I realized that this song was just about heartbreak. And the words hit a very true, very real place in my heart. And it was if my heart broke all over again as the words reminded me of painful situations and as I sang I relieved moments in my life over again.

Now that sounds a bit dramatic, but my point to this whole thing is that we are constantly changing. And the music that inspires and encourages us one moment, might no longer encourage and inspire the next. That as we consistently change with every experience, those experiences consistently change how we view the world. That every moment life changes a little for us. Things take on new meaning, things lose old meanings. Things that once matter a lot, matter little after time. You gain new perspective and hope and despair as you grow and change and evolve.

The songs that once brought you hope can be the exact songs that break your heart all over again.

And this is good and wonderful and human.

I hope that music keeps continuing to change for me. Cause that means I am continuing to grow and experience and evolve and change. It means I'm wonderfully human and living my life.

I wonder what the song will mean for me in 8 more years?

Muscle Memory

2009-06-01T12:02:00.002-05:00

I use to take dance. Like forever ago. I used to tap, do jazz squares, and pirouette with the best of them. Then I stopped. A couple days ago I was playing with some kids and we started goofing off and doing old ballet stuff. At first it took a lot of effort to do moves that once had not required much thought or work at all. But then it was amazing to me how fast my body remembered how to correctly do some of the moves. Motions that I hadn't done in almost ten years seemed to come easier and easier the more I tried. And then I remembered muscle memory. That sometimes, when you do something over and over and over again for long enough, that even when you stop the movements are stored in your muscles and can be reawakened quite easily. Its like they lie dormant within the ligaments until one day you try to move that way again and the memory of them wakes up and comes back to life to help you turn and twist and plie. Sometimes it takes a few tries, but your muscles remember, not matter how vague.

And its not just with leg or arms muscles. Our heart muscles do this. Sometimes things happen. Bad things, hurtful things and our reactions to these things are to stop loving. To stop feeling. To stop trusting. To give up hope. To quit believing. And after awhile we don't really remember what it feels like to trust, to love, to hope. We've simply stopped using those muscles within us. They become weak. Feelings and emotions and things like trust become distant memories of something we used to know how to do effortlessly.

But the memory of those good things- the memory of love, joy, peace, trust, faith, hope- these remain imprinted on our hearts. They remain in our muscle memory. They are ours to reclaim if we only realize that they still are alive within us.

Sure, its not going to be easy to remember how to do these things again. The first few tries are going to take effort and might hurt a little, but after a while, these will become effortless again. Love will naturally start to flow from your heart without you having to make yourself feel loving towards someone. Trust will happen, whether you intentionally think on it or not. You will find yourself feeling hope without having to push yourself to find it. It will be hard at first, but then the muscle memory will kick in and in time it will be easier.

There are memories and things that live within each of us that have gone dormant. We need to re-awaken these. We need to use these muscles, these memories. We need to live fully within ourselves.

What do you need to remember?

Traditons

2009-05-31T21:00:00.003-05:00

There is a certain sort of power that comes with doing something the same way over and over again. Whether it be the way you get ready in the morning, the way your family celebrates Christmas every year, or something as generic as saying the traditional "pledge of allegiance", traditions hold a certain sway over our lives. There's magic in going through motions and saying words that have been said by the people before us and will be said by the people after us. Traditions center us. Traditions remind us of who we are and where we've come from. Sometimes, traditions even point to where we are going.

I know that as a mid twenties girl, I'm still becoming who I will be. And sometimes in that process I get a little lost or misplaced. But when I go home and engage in some of the family traditions that we've had over the years, it reminds me deep down who I am at my core. When I come in the house and in following tradition the first thing I do is find someone to hug and love on, it reminds me that who I am is someone who loves first and foremost. And somehow all that confusion about who I am and who I want to be slips away.

When life gets a little too overwhelming or I'm really confused or down or whatever, there is something about the traditional Methodist service at our church that has a calming effect on me. Specifically, singing the doxology brings such a quiet peace to my mind and heart. Maybe I'm just sentimental, but when I imagine the people who throughout history who have sung those exacts world- somehow it reminds me that they survived and so will I. That in the moment life seem too much, too big, too hard, but in the grand scheme of things it reminds me of who I come from. That people have gone before me and in what tradition I follow. That we are survivors and that all things pass.

I worry about life. I worry about the future. I wonder where I will be in six months, six years. I wonder if things will turn out the way I imagine or if there is a fork in the road just ahead of me. I worry that I've missed out on some great opportunities or if the choices I'm considering are the wrong paths for me to take. But then when I wake up in the morning, I get out of bed and stretch towards the ceiling. Flip on the music. Make the coffee. Do the same things I've always done. And I'm reminded that no matter where I am in or what happens, some traditions will hold true. That it doesn't so much matter where I am going, but that I am going and going as me.

Traditions are good things. They are powerful things. They are wonderful things.

But traditions can also be dangerous. We should always watch to make sure that we are the keepers of the tradition, instead of the traditions acting as keepers of us.

2009-05-26T13:12:00.000-05:00

I am being refined. Redefined. Set apart.
I am learning to love. To embrace. To believe.
I am growing up. Growing in faith. Growing in love.
I am becoming whole. Fulfilled. Completed.
I am being blessed. Healed. Forgiven.
I am being shown grace. Mercy. Majesty.
I am longing for Eden. God's presence. Heaven.
I am receiveing Strength. Comfort. Discernment.
I am being shown that life is momentary. Mortal. Fleeting.
I am being taugh to Worship. To yearn. To praise.
I am accepting my Calling. My mission. My passion.
I am learning to Jump. To trust. To risk.
I am discovering the I Am. Who I am. Who I am in Him.
I am falling in Love. With Love. With the One who is Love

life lessons from turtles #1

2009-05-24T07:31:00.003-05:00

Last week we had some gorgeous weather. Sunny, breezy, warm enough to enjoy, but not so hot that you couldn't be outside and enjoy it. So I took my lunch break one day and decided to go walk on one of my favorite trails.

Now I tend to pride myself on being a constructive user of time so when I walk, I ususally take that time to listen to podcasts or books on tape (ok, occasionally I listen to ordinary music). So I was walking down my trail and listening to a sermon and really was just focused on getting the walk done and feeling good about it, and halfway down the trail I walked passed a group of eight people- looked like two mothers and several children. And the moms were trying to walk but every few feet one of the children would stop to show them a flower or a bug or something like that. I remember feeling kind of bad for the mothers that they couldn't just walk consistently.

Well needless to say I passed them on up and continued down the trail. When I got to the end of the trail, what did I do? I turned around and headed back to the beginning. On my way back, I passed the same families. and this time the little girl waved at me like crazy. So I took my head phones off and said "Hi." She then preceeded to grab my hand and drag me about ten feet back where there was a little turtle trying to cross the path but he was stuck. Apparently I had walked right past him a few moments before and didn't notice him, but this little girl had seen him and thought he was th neatest thing. I thanked her for pointing out such a great turtle and her mom called her to continue the walk.

I sat there and watched the turtle for a little bit. Watched him move his head in and out of the shell. Watched him try to get over the path. I picked him up and looked at the colors on his shell and helped him across the path. And it struck me that I was so busy being productive on the first walk by- exercising and listening to my ipod- that I had totally missed the turtle. Just didn't notice him. And it made me wonder- what else am I missing out on? Am I getting so caught up in being productive, getting the job done, being successful, that I really am missing out on the little wonders of the world- like flowers, and turtles, and bugs? And if I don't notice little things like that- what else am I missing? Who am I ignoring?

I started out my walk feeling sorry for the mom whose kids kept stopping them to point out the flowers and the bugs and everything else that seems so miraculous as a child, but in the end I realized I was the one who was missing out.

When did I lose my sense of wonder? When I stop looking around me? When did I start missing all the little things that make this life beautiful? How long has it been since I've stopped and just marveled in the sunlight? When did I lose my child like spirit? When did I stop getting excited over the little things?

And how do I get back to that child-like way of life?

2009-05-11T11:35:00.001-05:00

"What keeps us alive? What allows us to endure?
I think it is the hope of loving, or being loved."

-Meister Eckhart

2009-05-10T18:19:00.002-05:00

For those of you who haven't figured it out already: I'm a nerd. A geek. Somebody who should have been beat up in the school yard a long time ago. And I'm ok with it.

I love Star Wars. I read sci-fi.
And so, on Thursday night I went with friends to the opening of the new Star Trek movie.
Now, this was the first Star Trek I'd ever seen.
And it was good.

Capt. James T. Kirks in his end of the movie soliloquy talks about space. And how its the final frontier. Its all that we have left in this universe to explore. Its the only mystery remaining.
And while I like Captain Kirk (and think he's slightly adorable), I disagree with that.

(now I realize that all of you are slightly judging me for 1. Going to see Star Trek and 2. For arguing and disagreeing with a fictional character. But stick with me and see where I go with this).

For all our knowledge, for all our discoveries, for all our genetic mapping, stem cell research, GPS navigation systems, deciding Pluto's not really a planet- for all of our progress and advancement- space is not the final frontier or the only mystery we have looming before.

For all our wisdom, we still just don't understand the human spirit.

What is it in people that keeps them fighting for life, when all doctors have declared imminent death?
What is it in people that makes them determined to love and be loved, when they've experienced the breaking of their heart?
What is it that makes people continue to marry and make life long covenants with each other, despite the overwhelming divorce rates?
Why do people keep fighting for freedom when they've fought for thousands of years and gained nothing?
What keeps that young girl going to auditions, when everyone tells her she doesn't have what it takes?
What keeps us praying when we aren't hearing answers?

For all our robots, advanced weaponry, and blue ray dvds, we still can't explain what it is about the human spirit that keeps on hoping. Never surrendering. Never stopping. Always believing.

Space isn't the final frontier. We are.
We are a mystery that can never be explained.
For space is a singular thing- that someday will be explored in compeltion.
But we humans, we are many and diverse and constantly changing and evolving.
There will always be mystery and new frontiers in the world.
They are within us.

We don't know. We don't have a clue what that tiny voice inside of us is. That place in us that urges us to keep on, to push on, to remain faithful, and to always hope.

2009-04-28T21:00:00.002-05:00

"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent...Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for me. "

- John Donne

Put me in coach, I'm ready to play....

2009-04-21T15:19:00.003-05:00

For those of you who know me well, it would come as no shock to you that I normally don't participate in athletic games. That whenever a group soccer, softball, or whatever game is going on, I tend to the one keeping score, encouraging from the sidelines, or tending to the wounded. If you don't know me well then let me explain I do this is for many reasons: 1. I am incredibly unathletic and am more of a handicap than an asset. 2. I am a perfectionist, so unless I'm going to be great at it, I don't want to play. and 3. I fear being laughed at or ridiculed or some other variant of those. So usually I just cheer from the sidelines avoiding all chance of injury, embarassement, or failure.

Well last night that changed. I was hanging out with some friends and they decided to play at game called "Tidball." "Tidball" is kind of a free for all game loosely based on tennis and soccer and played on a tennis course. And for some strange reason, rather than watching, I participated. I kicked, I ran, I served, I played! Of course, I fell on my butt, got scraped up, and earned some pretty amazing bruises, but I played. Not only did I play, but I didn't totally screw it all up (which I know some of you would categorize as a minor miracle). And it felt great! I love the fact that I fell on my behind and got right back up and kept playing. I loved the fact that I took the chance to serve barefoot, and while it has permantly turned my foot red, it made it over the net! And no, I wasn't perfect, but it simply felt great to play, to participate, to be involved.

I kind of feel like this is very symbolic for where I am in life right now. I feel like I am sitting on the sideline. Cheering, encouraging, tending the wounded, but never stepping out onto the field. Never taking the risks, never participating in the game. That, metaphorically, I'm afraid to run after the ball, take a chance and serve, or block a pass if it means I embarras myself. I've sort of become content to sit on the bench and watch the game play on without me. I stay in the place that is very safe and secure for me. That doesn't push me outside of my box, challenge me to go beyond what I'm comfortable with. To quote Relient K, "I"m stuck inside this rut, I fell into by mistake."

But I don't want to do that any more. Because even with the bruises and scrapes and slightly wounded ego, it felt amazing to participate and play. It felt great to go for it and risk it and try something new and different. And I want to feel that in life again. I want to laugh and cry and be scared and excited and to fall and get up again.

I want to step back out there into the game, knowing that there will be risks, and failures, and stupid mistakes, and messiness, and bruises. But there will also be laughter, and success, and happiness, and chances to grow, and healing.

I want to play again. I want to participate. I want to go after all the things I want even if I don't get them all. I want to scare myself to death with the things I decide to try. I want to really risk something. I want to do something even if it turns out to be the wrong something. I want to know I've tried. I want to live.

2009-04-16T19:06:00.006-05:00

"All people have stars, but they aren't the same. For travelers, the stars are guides. For other people, they're nothing but tiny lights. And for still others, for scholars, they're problems. For businessman, they were gold... You, though, you'll have stars like nobody else."

-Antoine de Saint-Exupery

The Little Prince

I've always be fascinated by time and space. For a long time, I wanted to be an astronaut. So its not surprising that God often uses things like the sun, moon, and stars to reveal things to me. (it sounds a bit pompous to say that God "reveals" things to me, but I simply mean He uses them as tools to get through to my stubborn self some lesson that I need to learn.)

Lately I've been ending every night sitting on my back porch watching the stars. Now, that's one thing I can say for the country living I've been experiencing- the stars are beautiful and bright and shine with an undiluted light in the country sky. Its an amazing experience.

I can't remember where I heard this, but somewhere along the way I learned that the star lights that we see in the sky actually is the light from stars that died thousands of years ago. That the light of stars that are living right now won't be visible to us for a thousand more years or so.

I get so caught up with instant gratification in life. I like to see the results of my actions, of my efforts soon after I've worked for them. (thus the obsession with vacuuming- instant results!) Its hard for me to swallow that often the work we do today, are planting seeds or shedding light that won't be seen for many many years. Maybe not even in our lifetimes.

I think I worry that the light of my efforts won't ever be seen. That if I can't see it now, how am I to be assured that something will actually come of it? I think deep down we all struggle with the age old questions: Does my life really matter? Will I leave my mark? Will my light outshine my lifespan? Does my life even matter NOW? Am I making a difference TODAY?

The stars aren't seen in their lifetime. Only after the star has been dead and gone and stopped really giving off light, is that light actually visible to us here on earth. But yet, the star lives its life, continues to burn with faith that someday their light will be seen.

I want to strive to be more like the stars. Living my life regardless of whether anyone sees the light of it in this moment or not. Just do my best to shine, knowing that someday, somewhere, the light of my life might be visible. Even if just to one person.

2009-04-15T12:39:00.002-05:00

Now that I've recuperated from the craziness of the Easter season, I've actually had a few moments to consider what Easter is. What is means for me and what it brings to my life (kind of a shame that its only after Easter that I truly have time to celebrate it).

On a blog I read (Stuff Christians Life- http://stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com/) he asked people to finish this sentence: Easter is: _______________.

For me: Easter is something that (only because of the first Easter) can happen again and again and again.

Because death was conquered by Life on that first Easter, we have the power through Christ to conquer death in our own lives.

Every time a broken heart is comforted and the pain is lessened, that is an Easter.
Every time a fear is conquered and courage is found, that is an Easter.
Every time a numbed person starts to feel life again, that is an Easter.
Every time a broken community finds reconciliation, that is an Easter.
Every time despair is replaced with hope, that is Easter.
Every time a goodbye is said so a hello can happen, that is Easter.

Because of the amazing power and Love of the first Easter, we get to be an Easter people. Experiencing the new life and hope of Easter in many ways everyday.

Christ is risen! Indeed.

2009-04-11T15:48:00.002-05:00

You hear people talk about Good Friday. You hear people talk about Maundy Thursday. And obviously, people talk about Easter Sunday. But no one ever says anything about Saturday. No one ever talks about what happens between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

Probably because it had to be the worst day ever and there is nothing in it which to celebrate. Jesus is dead. Buried. And in the tomb. This is not a day where He died on the cross for us (which is only really powerful in reference to the Resurrection). This is not a day where the tomb is empty. This is the after everyone had betrayed Him, mocked Him, killed Him, and buried Him. This is the aftermath of that. This is the day where people who believed He was the Messiah tried to resolve themselves to His death. This is the day where His beloved disciples and family tried to figure out what His death meant in light of everything they knew to be True about Him. This was a day- seemingly- without hope.

In the old hymn, "Were you there?" one of the verses goes "Were you there when the sun refused to shine?" This is that verse. Saturday is that day. The day without Sun. Or Son. The day without hope. The day of defeat. The day with no redemption. Where the awfulness of Christ's death on the cross was real. And final. And so true.

Can you imagine living in that Saturday? Can you imagine living, even just for 24 hours, in a world without hope? Without promise of redemption? Can you imagine what it must have felt like to be TRULY hopeless.

I don't even dare....because I think it would be too awful.

How amazing is it that, we don't live in Saturday? We don't dwell in a world where the Sun refuses to shine. We may say that we feel hopeless, but truly, we are never really hopeless.

So when you feel down, and out, and like you are at the end of it all, and the world is black, and you feel abandoned. Remember that Saturday- remember the despair of that day. And hold out.

Beacsue the Son rose that next morning.

2009-04-10T18:15:00.002-05:00

My mother is moving and therefore going through all my old school work and found my first work of poetry ever and I've decided to share it with you:

"Roses, violets, daffodils too.

Some day Kelly's wishes will come true."

1991, age 7

...hopefully I've improved a little since age 7....

2009-03-11T15:29:00.002-05:00

"The first duty of love is to listen." - Paul Tillich

Lately, I've been struggling to pray. I've not been struggling to find time to pray, nor have I experienced a lack of things to pray for; but, its been difficult for me to actually find the words to accurately represent what I am feeling or seemed pointless to tell God something He is already smack in the middle of.

Part of the time, it feels like my heart is too full to pray. It feels like a dam that has so much water pressing up against it, that if a little leaks out- it will all break free, rushing out of control. And part of the time, it feels pointless to pray when I really have nothing to say.

I reached a moment of clarity this weekend however. I was simply sitting around talking with friends and realized that with people, I spend most of my time listening. I feel like one of my strengths is giving people a safe place to talk. I often listen more than I speak in life.

And then I realized- how little I purposefully listen to God. When I pray, I sit down and feel like I must keep the conversation going. I almost have been making it awkward and forced. I wonder, how different would my prayers be if I spent the majority of the time listening?

Would I hear God's voice? Would He share the answers to all the questions I'm afraid to ask?

2009-03-07T08:38:00.003-06:00

"For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?"

Matthew 16.25-26

This verse has been haunting me lately. Following me around. Literally, stalking me. I wake up at night thinking about it. I read it over and over at my desk each day. And I have been wondering why? Why is this verse hitting so close to home at this particular time?

I recently read Stephanie Meyer's new book "The Host". Its an excellent read, alien body snatching aside. It has some deep and profound theology buried in midst of the fictional story. The book is about aliens who come to earth and live in human "hosts." The aliens are the mental and emotional part to the human physical body. However, one particular alien gets put in a host body where the soul/mind of the human is so strong, she refuses to leave her body.

Now of course its totally fictional, but the book brings up an interesting point. How strong is your soul? Who are you really? What would it take for you to lose your soul? (I don't mean soul in the 'eternal life' context, I mean soul as in the spirit of who you are as a person.)

I find it interesting that the verse from Matthew haunts me as I am reading this book. Because, more often than not lately, I feel as if I've misplaced my soul. I occasionally find it hard to remember how to be me.

At my best, I am cheerful, playful, and carefree. An eternal optimist. Someone who laughs easily and could be found blowing bubbles in the park for no reason at all. Someone who readily enjoys life and takes great pleasure in the littlest things. I used to be good at remembering that I was a human BEING not a human DOING.

At my worst, I am none of the above. And lately, I think I've been at my worst. I've been too serious and forgotten how to laugh and play. I've been too busy DOING that I've forgotten simply to BE.

No job, no relationship, no degree, no project, NOTHING is so important that I should forgo WHO I am at my core. What good is it to gain the entire world, but lose Kelly?

This Lenten season has provided some time for me to sit down and figure out where I went wrong. When I allowed the aliens of BUSYNESS and PRODUCTIVITY to hijack my body. And allow me time and space to figure out how to let Kelly out again.

Somehow, I think this is where losing my life to gain it will come it. I will have to give things up, to get back what I've lost.

But is that not what Lent is about? Trading one thing for another?
Trading sickness for healing?
Trading fear for faith?
Trading isolation for community?
Trading worry for peace?
Trading DOING for BEING?

I find that at this time of Easter, its refreshing to realize that God loves ME. Loves KELLY. Loves Kelly apart from what she does, how much she accomplishes. And He values the sunshiney soul He created in her. And that He is teaching her that it profits her nothing to gain the world if she is losing her soul.

2009-03-01T17:35:00.003-06:00

People see God every day, they just don't recognize Him.

-Pearl Bailey

Lent, Day 1

2009-02-26T19:40:00.002-06:00

Love....

It doesn't make sense.

I traded all my nothing,

and got Everything.