My favorite day of the year is Christmas Tree Day, which falls annually on whichever day my family gets our tree. To me, it represents hope.
Merriam Webster defines hope as: to cherish a desire with anticipation. Yup, that’s me about Christmas. But the word ‘hope’ seems to get watered down. I hope I get there on time. I hope the line’s not too long. I hope they still have it in my size. That’s not really cherishing a desire, is it? Then what is hope? Hope is a college in Michigan. It is a charitable wine company. It’s even one heck of a goalie for the women’s National Team. But it is so much richer than that.
We all love picking out a prickly evergreen from the local farmer’s market, taking turns standing next to this one thick with fragrance, then that one with just the right point on top, so we can all compare and choose which tree is the perfect pine to grace our family room. Our family enjoys unboxing treasured ornaments from years past, the golden twinkle of lights, and singing Christmas tunes out loud, whether we know the words or not. But I get especially emotional.
Sure, it’s because of all the reasons I’ve listed above—spending time with my favorite people on the planet, reliving old memories, creating new ones, but I believe Christmas Tree Day is so powerful to me, because of all of the hope it signifies—the hope of the entire Christmas season.
My heart fills as it anticipates carols, cookie baking, and candle light services. I flash-forward to the joy of watching my kids scramble to locate our Elf on the Shelf (his name is Frosty) each morning. My taste buds eagerly look forward to the creamy richness of a peppermint mocha, sigh, and thick dark fudge. I’m excited to hug, laugh and catch up with loved ones. I look forward to priceless moments ranging from pausing to contemplate the nativity scene to prancing through the yard at the first sign of snowflakes—the kind of memories that seem to fold one on top of another at Christmas like no other time of year. I can barely wait for it all.
Christmas Tree Day brings me all of the hope of the Christmas season. But the Christmas season brings me all of the hope wrapped up in the fact that Jesus was willing to come down to earth, among the trials, the mistakes, and flaws of mankind (that’s me and you) to save us. Some days we feel hopeless. But Christmas is the beautiful promise that no matter what we’ve done or where we’ve been, Jesus loves us anyway, and calls out to us from the manger and from the cross, and right to where we are today, saying He wants to offer us love, the perfect kind. That’s what hope is. Hope is the desire, the anticipation, for His selfless love. But unlike Christmas morning, we don’t have to wait to unwrap it. God’s love is His gift to us today, right here and now.
No wonder the start of the season, the day that commences this month packed with hope, stirs me up inside. I cherish each moment setting up and decorating the tree, but I am also overwhelmed with the promises and potential of Christmas. No matter what you’re hoping for this Christmas, know that Jesus offers you all that and more.
May your days be merry and bright
No man can be the perfect father. Just like I can’t be the perfect mother, sister, daughter, wife or mom. I’d like to be, but I’m not. I can’t. It’s not possible, because we’re all human.
Yet, all of us can imagine what that perfect father might look like. Maybe he’s a combination of Daniel (Liam Neeson) in Love Actually, Nemo’s dad, Marlin, Atticus Finch and Jean Val Jean—only their best parts, their scenes and dialogue that moved us the most. When we picture that, we’re getting closer to understanding who God is.
When I fall down, mess up, make the same mistake I’ve made over and over and wish I would never make again, yet find myself scuffed and bruised, how would I hope the perfect father would handle it? I’d want him to ask me where it hurts. Get out a bottle of peroxide. Clean up my wounds and hold me until I stopped shaking. Later, when I’m a bit calmer, he’d talk me through what happened, help me strategize how to prevent from falling down again.
When something interesting or hilarious happened during my day, I imagine the ideal father putting down his phone or his newspaper, looking me in the eye and listening to every word of my story, like it mattered, like I matter.
If I were having relationship trouble, I’d like to think the perfect father would make us both steaming mugs of hot cocoa with extra marshmallows and sit down with me on the couch… and listen. Then he’d share with me how he wishes my friends would treat me, how He hopes I’ll interact with the people in my life, what he hopes others see in me. How he expects me to behave. If it were boy trouble, he’d proceed to tell me the kind of guy he always dreamed I’d marry, the attributes he’d like the man I end up with to have—things like integrity and faith and honesty.
As a busy mom of four, I know I don’t always listen fully or comfort before I criticize. Sometimes I try to fix a problem when my child wants me to listen or just offer perspective. I’m far from perfect. But I know how passionately I love my children. That even in my flaws, I want to be fully present for them always and to help them grow into the very best versions of themselves.
If I want that for my kids…I can’t even imagine how much God wants that for us. And since God is perfect, he always gets it right. He’s never distracted or too busy for us. He never shoos us away or gives us half answers. He never ignores us or treats us unfairly. He always guides us on glorious paths and loves us with perfect love.
That’s what the perfect Father looks like. That’s how He loves you and me.
So, the thing I’m most thankful for is God—the perfect Father. It is through Him that a table of Thanksgiving is before me. That the people I love so dearly are gathered around it. That a feast of plenty is spread across it. My thanks are for God who sent His only son, Jesus, to save me and to save you. It is to Him that I owe all of my thanks.
Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven. The gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of Light. There is nothing deceitful in God, nothing two-faced, nothing fickle. He brought us to life using the true Word, showing us off as the crown of all his creatures. —James 1:17-18
I am a shedder.
I leave long, curly blonde hairs on the carpet of your car, the pillows of your couches, on the backs of the seats at church, and on your shirt when I give you a hug. My hairs clog the sink and get tangled in the rollers of the vacuum. If I’m ever a suspect for anything, the detectives won’t need to look for my fingerprints or footprints—all they’ll need to do is follow my trail of tresses.
I know I leave my hair everywhere I go (sorry about that) but what else am I leaving behind? When I leave yoga class, Bible study, your kitchen table, are there smiles lingering? Laughter? Sarcasm? Complaints? Prayers? What am I imprinting?
Are people glad I came, or do they sigh with relief, grateful for my departure?
I’ll never hear the conversations and comments after I exit a room, but I can choose how I act when I’m in that room. My husband and I went to see Mitch Albom, the author of Tuesdays With Morrie, speak last week. Mitch shared one of the most important things Morrie taught him, a lesson Albom weaves into all of his books, is that “one life touches another and another.” Jesus says, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”—Matthew 22: 39
If I’m going to fully love my neighbor, if our lives are going to touch people one way or another, we can choose to try to love them and touch them in positive, meaningful ways. We all get that choice. Each time we enter a room. If we’re running late and juggling our keys and our purse and our coffee, we can grump and make excuses and make a big deal about our woes OR we can smile and laugh and greet someone. When we’re listening to someone speak—whether that’s a doctor, pastor, counselor, boss, co-worker, best friend, spouse, student or one of our own kids—we can choose to continue with our busyness, our business, on our phones OR we can choose to look them in the eye, give them our full attention, and truly listen.
Even when we’re the ones who need help, who are asking for advice, who need help carrying a load—physical, emotional or mental—(because some days we do need help) we can still choose to say, ‘thank you,’ to let the person know how much we appreciate them, how grateful we are for their help.
I’m going to be a lot of places over the next few weeks—soccer games, sports banquets, my children’s schools, church, visiting family for the holidays to name a few. How about you? Where are you headed? How will we act? What will we leave behind? In this season of thankfulness, let’s make a pact to remind others of all that they have to be thankful for, to have our presence be something they are thankful for, not because we are awesome or brilliant or have all of the right answers, but because we can choose to shine light in dark places, to choose hope over despair, and to choose compliments over criticism.
When someone finds one of my hairs—which they’re bound to do—after parting ways with me, I pray they pull it off their sleeve or pick it off their floor and smile, that I have left them with peace, strength or a little joy.
I appreciate that the days leading up to Thanksgiving ignite our thankful nature, because I have so much to be thankful for. We get to choose how we look at each and every situation that comes our way. We can dwell on the mishaps and misunderstandings, or we can be in awe of what we have. Which will we choose?
Overall, I see myself as a grateful kind of girl. But although I don’t mean to, I still seem to grumble about something or other most days.
Me? I’m trying to be less grumbly and more grateful.
Do you know the song “Big Yellow Taxi” by Joni Mitchell? I prefer the remake by the Counting Crows, but the lyrics warn, “Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got…’til its gone.” I don’t want to take the gifts I have for granted. I don’t want them to slip through my fingers unnoticed or unappreciated. I want to cherish them and savor them and drink them in. November seems to be the perfect time to work on improving my perspective.
My younger daughter had an out of town soccer tournament this past weekend. And although it meant leaving my husband and other three amazing kids for a couple of nights, I was still excited with the prospect of spending two nights visiting with one of my favorite people on the planet (the tournament was near my mom’s) and getting to spend time with my precious girl. Yet, I’ll admit Saturday’s game came a little early, the parking lot was slightly insane, and I was a bit shivery as I wrapped my hands around a coffee cup on the sidelines of a frost-covered field. As the girls warmed up, I asked the coach, who had worked the night shift, not slept, and came straight to coach the girls, “How do you stay awake? Loads of coffee?” He shook his head and laughed. His answer convicted me, “Honestly, the smiles on these girls faces totally energizes me.” Perfect perspective.
Even though I’d started out in the right mindset, I needed reminded to choose grateful over grumbling (thanks, Coach). My mind reset. I stopped inwardly whining and started absorbing God’s blessings, starting with the spectacular sunrise over the fields and the warm cup of coffee my mom had brewed for me. I had a memorable weekend loaded with conversations and walks with my mom and packed with giggles, silly photos, chocolate cake and even a couple of episodes of Fixer Upper with my daughter. The weekend was pure gift.
I’m writing this blog just prior to the election. Emotions about our future president are so thick they are difficult to wade through. But no matter if your candidate won, or the other candidate won we still live in a country where we had the right to vote. Where I, as a woman, had the right to vote. Where a free education is available to all of our children, despite income, race or religion. Where it is safe for our kids to get on a school bus in the morning and to ride it back home to us each afternoon. When I attend my kids’ soccer games, I can sit anywhere I like, wear anything I’m in the mood to wear. When the “National Anthem” is played I’ll get goose bumps contemplating my freedoms. We live in a country where we can still express our opinions without fear, where we can practice our faith without risk of imprisonment, or worse. Are we choosing gratitude?
Yes, life is crazy, and it gets interrupted, and the script doesn’t always go the way I would write it. But God is a much better writer than I am. And I don’t want to miss any of the gifts He has in store. I challenge myself (and you) today not to dwell on what we don’t have, but to focus on all we do have, to be thankful for the vibrant crimson, oranges and gold of leaves and the smoky scent of bonfires, for lungs that breathe in crisp November air, for the people in our lives who make us smile, and for a God who loves us so completely, so personally, that not only did He die for us, but He also provides countless surprises and delights for us each day.
What are you grateful for today?
As I clean the top left section of my white board, I am stopped mid-erase, in total awe of God’s plans, and how He orchestrates them.
About a year ago I started the search for a literary agent to represent me. I’d had an agent previously. We’d broken up, because we wanted different things. And as with any relationship that ends, I’d needed some time to sort through it. But last year I was prompted to look for a new agent.
All searches—for a job, a new house, a college, a spouse—are a process. These searches remind me of working my way through a corn maze. Have you been in one? You know where you’re starting. You know there is a finish. You’re just not sure how you’re going to get from A to B. The names and dates I’m erasing from my white board are a testimony to this process—of websites researched, proposals written, submissions sent, phone calls made. Are you searching for anything right now?
On my quest I took wrong turns when I looked around and saw endless rows of corn, where I felt like I was getting farther and farther away from the finish line, more and more lost in the maze. These were the days I chatted with agents who didn’t get me, who said they wanted to represent me, but they hadn’t even read my email to see what I wanted represented, who made suggestions that just didn’t make sense. I shook my head, discouraged, not sure what to do next. Luckily, I had friends and family who kept giving me new suggestions, kept encouraging me, kept praying for me, kept me on track when I would start to lose perspective. Their company along the journey made a world of difference. I mean, where’s the fun in tackling a corn maze by yourself?
There were days when I hit dead ends like getting to a wall of head-high corn stalks not sure if I would ever get out, where it felt like I’d come so far to get absolutely nowhere. These were the days I got rejected from agents whose work I respected, who I thought might be a great fit.
But there were also brilliant, beautiful moments. Just like when you’re in a corn maze and you spot a scarlet ladybug, when the sunshine warms your face, when a fuzzy caterpillar crosses your path, when you’re laughing so hard with your companions, or you’re floored by the intricacies of a sparkling spider web woven to perfection, and you forget all about solving the maze, when you just want to breathe in the moment. These were days when I was writing new material, and sensing God’s inspiration behind every word. These were days when I had speaking engagements and met the most amazing, awe-inspiring women. There were some of my favorite moments of the past year, which had nothing to do with writing or agents—baking cookies with my kids and eating spoonfuls of the dough, going for walks with my husband as the sun set in our neighborhood, enjoying the company and insights of a good friend or a good book.
When you walk through a corn maze, no matter what stage of it you’re in, the farmer has plowed a wide, smooth path to the end, to the finish line. It’s there. You just can’t see it yet. He even gives you a map to follow along your way. But there are times when the map seems confusing, when you try to solve it yourself, when you forget about the map in your hand altogether. Life’s mazes are the same. God has plowed a wide, smooth path to the finish line—to the right job, the right roommate, the right date, the right team, the right neighborhood. He even gives us a map to follow to get to the end. The Bible is packed with everything we need to make the right decisions, to stay strong and courageous, to understand that if you hit a dead end, you just need to turn around because God will provide a way out, that God will never leave you, that if you have a little faith, you can move mountains, or solve corn mazes. But some days we forget. Or tuck our maps in our pockets. Or try to solve it ourselves, just because we want to, even when we know better.
And just like walking through a corn maze, there is a thrill in finding the sign that reads FINISH in red letters at the end, but the journey is a thrill, it’s packed with discovery and hope and mystery and laughter. And with life’s corn mazes, you don’t have to wonder if you’ll ever reach the end, because you can have faith, that our perfect God has plans for you, plans to prosper you, plans for a future.
For me, the finish line of this particular corn maze of my life is that I’ve signed with Emily Sweeney of ESY Marketing Solutions. She is sharp, funny, and real. She gets me. She understands the industry. She has brilliant ideas. As I chat with Emily, I understand fully why none of the other agents worked out. I am in awe of the fact that God kept me from signing with any of them, because He knew all along that I needed to sign with her. Emily wasn’t even an agent when I began my search! She was still working at a major publisher. So when I thought it was taking forever, God was just making sure everything was in place. I see God’s fingerprints all over my journey.
As I stand here erasing the steps of me trying to solve this maze I am blown away by what He had in store all along, and I am reminded to hold tight to this moment. Because there will be more quests I go on in life. There will be a different search, with different questions, new sets of dead ends and wrong turns. But I can be certain, just like you can, that God has a perfect path laid out. All we have to do is patiently follow it one step, one day at a time. When we get mixed up, we need to go back to His map, ask Him for guidance, and He will lead us to life’s finish lines. And along the way, we can savor the journeys.
Ever heard of Nerf Wars? No, they're nothing like Star Wars. Nerf Wars are when teams of teens make a bracket (like you would in any sports tournament). The teams go against their assigned opponents with the goal of hitting more members of the opposing team with Nerf bullets than the opposing team hits of your team by the end of the assigned time. Shot players are out and can no longer shoot. Winning teams advance to the next bracket. It’s like an extended game of dodge ball, only with Nerf guns. Got it?
But as with most games, there’s a lot to be learned by the rules—life lessons. I’ve had the pleasure of spectating and strategizing with my daughter as she partook in this war with her friends, and I’ve learned a few strategies I want to apply to my daily life.
1. Be intentional
There is a thrill, an excitement, and a little bit of anxiety during Nerf Wars, because at any moment you could get shot. It’s all in fun—it’s just a game, so the stakes aren’t high, but still there’s that strange feeling that someone is after you. My daughter had to rethink her daily tasks. She had to be intentional about things she usually did by rote, things she took for granted. She asked if she could park in the garage instead of the driveway, so she could pull her car in, shut the garage door, and never be out in the open where she could get shot. She started conversations with people she hadn’t chatted with before, so she could decipher when and where her opponents were going. She planned new routes home from school in case she was being followed.
I, too, need to be more intentional. There are so many things I habitually do without even thinking about them. I eat the same things for breakfast, read the same blogs, and sit in the same seat at church. What if I approached each day fully aware and intent on expanding my horizons and picking the best routes for my daily life instead of the most familiar ones?
2. Never leave your wingman.
Just like in Top Gun, In Nerf Wars it’s not only important to be in constant communication with your teammates, it’s also critical to have someone with you—a wingman. Maybe your wingman will drive while you roll down the passenger window to shoot an opponent. Maybe, if they’re already out of the game, your wingman will act as a human shield to protect you from oncoming Nerf bullets. Maybe a wingman will help you find someone’s house, or just to keep you company or make you laugh while you’re on a stakeout.
I also need a wingman. We aren’t created to do life alone. We all need people to talk to, to laugh with, to plan with. Some days I need my friends and family to act as human shields, protecting me from unkind words or rejections from the world. I definitely need a small, close circle of people praying for and with me. I hope my wingmen and wingwomen and wingkids never leave my side. I’m reminded how important it is to stand by theirs
3. Stay in the light
I cracked up each night when my daughter called, asking me to turn on all the outside lights. When she pulled up to our house, she wanted a clear view—wanted to see if anyone was waiting to attack her.
I also need to stay in the light. I need to stay where I can see what’s going on, where I can tell the difference between right and wrong. There are places I’ve been and people I’ve been around, that when I’m there or with them, everything starts to get dim, maybe even dark. Where decisions are harder, where lines get blurry. You probably have your darker places, too. But Jesus is light. And when I stay grounded in Him, I can see what’s coming, and not be taken by surprise. I can see things for what they truly are, and act accordingly. When I shine His light on any situation it gets brighter and clearer, and I am immediately less concerned about the unknown.
I don’t know what battles you’re fighting today. I hope they’re just all fun and games, like Nerf Wars. But I know some days the battles are real. When they are, be intentional, keep a wingman close by, and stay in the marvelous light of Jesus.
I reached for my sunglasses, where they’d been, hooked on the neckline of my top, but they weren’t there. I tapped the top of my head. Not there. Even though I was certain I’d worn them into Butterfield’s market, I still checked the console in my car where I sometimes set them and in the sunglasses holder up top where I should store them, and in the middle compartment. Nothing.
I got down on the floor of my car, in case they’d slipped. I picked up my purse and dug through it. Kleenex, coupons, and candy, but no sunglasses. By now, my mom and kids were back at the car.
“What’d you lose?”
“My sunglasses,” I mumbled.
“Did you check the register?”
“Are they in the greenhouse?”
We all went back inside and retraced our steps through mounds of dark orange pumpkins, crazy-shaped gourds, giant pots of mums, and bales of straw. They weren’t lying on the counter where I’d paid. The greenhouse, warm from the sun and fragrant with heady mums didn’t seem to be hiding them. We milled through the barrels of apples, bags of caramel corn and jugs of cider, but my sunglasses were nowhere to be found. What looked like an entire freshman corridor of college students trickled in for a hayride, making it difficult to even walk through the market, let alone continue my search. In one final effort, I left my name and number with the girl working the checkout, in case they turned up.
Have you lost something recently? Your keys? Your folder? Your phone? Some days I think I’m losing my mind. We search frantically on our way out the door for that cleat, that notebook, that bill we were going to drop in the mailbox. We scramble and scurry to find the things we’ve misplaced. We’ll stop everything to look for that one thing.
"If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them wanders away, what will he do? Won't he leave the ninety-nine others on the hills and go out to search for the one that is lost?” –Matthew 18:12
Jesus says we are the thing He’ll drop everything else to find.
You know how desperately you want to find your debit card? That phone number? The email you misplaced in your inbox? Your other earring? You know how you look and search and barely talk to anyone as you’re single-mindedly searching for it? That’s how desperately Jesus wants to hang out with us, the lengths He’ll go to to be with us, the extent of which He loves us. He’d stop everything to look for me? Yes. He’d stop everything to look for you, too.
When I got home I opened my trunk and grabbed a pot of crimson mums
“Mom! Stop! There they are!” My daughter yelled.
I looked down not registering what she was talking about. There were my sunglasses intertwined among the stems of flowers. Laugher. Relief. I snagged the shades and popped them back on my face.
And if he finds it, I tell you the truth, he will rejoice over it more than over the ninety-nine that didn't wander away! --Matthew 18:13
Jesus rejoices when He finds us, when we let Him find us, when after hiding out among the flowers or the apples or the pumpkins we are finally looking at Him, listening to Him. He laughs. He sighs. He grabs us and pulls us close.
We all want answers—and we want them. Now. Like why haven’t I gotten a text back about that yet?
But we don’t’ have the all of the answers.
We all have parts of our lives that don’t make sense. The HOW will I pay these bills? And WHERE should I go to school/move/work? The WHO should be my roommate or should I marry or should I ask to start this business with me? The WHEN will I find out or get a break? And the WHY is this happening? And without answers to our questions, without the full picture, our current situations are confusing and sometimes seemingly hopeless or scary or stressful.
Do you remember the scene in A Few Good Men, when Tom Cruise's character wants answers?
“You want answers?” Colonel Jessup challenges.
“I want answers.” Tom Cruise is emphatic.
“You want the truth?” Colonel Jessup questions.
“I think I’m entitled,” Cruise cries out.
“You can’t handle the truth!” Jessup retorts.
And some days this captures my conversations with God.
“You want answers?” God asks.
I want answers.
“You want the truth?” God asks.
I think I’m entitled God, because I want to go where You want me to go, to do what You want me to do, I want to get rid of this stress, I want out of this relationship, I want a job that fulfills me and pays my bills, I want to do better, for things to be better, but I need answers, I want them, I deserve them.
And thankfully God answers much more gently than Jack Nicholson, “Oh sweet, beautiful, daughter, you can’t handle the truth. Not now. Not yet.”
Paul describes this in 1 Corinthians 13 as, “Now I see in a mirror dimly, then face to face.”
When applying to colleges, I sent applications to four. I got into one—my backup school, the one I’d never visited. My last choice. Why, God, did I not get into my top three? I asked.
I’d studied hard, gotten good grades, been active in clubs. I’d checked all the boxes, how did I get dung? God could have told me, “Well, you’ll need to meet your husband here, and one day he’ll be a professor there, and you two will raise a family in this very college town.” But I wouldn’t have been able to wrap my mind around any of that. It was too abstract. All I could see was a dim fog. But Miami ended up being my dream school, and well, I already told you the fairy tale ending.
Is there anything in your life that has you wondering, “Why God? How, God? When, God?” That you are looking up at God and saying, “What the heck?” That you wish God would just tell you the ending, so you could move forward? Is there anything you might be seeing dimly? Something you think you might want the truth about, but maybe, just maybe you can’t handle it yet?
I don’t know the answers to your questions, but I do know God keeps His promises. He is always true to His word. And I do know whatever you’re wrestling with; God will keep His promises to you, too. How do I know? Because the Bible is one beautiful, cohesive testament of God’s promises for His people and how He fulfills them.
The Old Testament books written hundreds of years prior to the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, the carpenter’s son, promise a Savior whose hands and feet will be pierced (Psalm 22:16), who will be betrayed by a friend (Psalm 41:9), and who will be rejected by the rulers (Psalm 118:22). The Old Testament prophet, Micah, speaks that the Savior will be born in Bethlehem (5:2-5). Ezekiel 34 foretells He will come from the lineage of David.
Each and every one of these predictions came true. They are historically noted. God told the writers of these books what would happen. And when God makes a promise. He keeps it.
Fast forward to the New Testament and over and over again, we hear Jesus say something, and then see it happen.
“Be healed.” And the afflicted are healed. (Mark 1)
“Pick up your mat.” And the lame walk. (Mark 2)
“Silence. Be still.” And the storm stopped (Mark 4)
Because when Jesus says something. It happens.
Jesus tells his disciples, “I will be betrayed. I will be killed.” These are not promises you give when you’re trying to gain followers, gather people to your cause, show off your power, or flash your credentials. You only make these kinds of promises if you mean to keep them.
And He did.
But Jesus also promised, “On the third day I will rise again.”
And He did.
He and God knew at the beginning of time that we were going to mess up, and that they loved us and didn’t want to be separated from us. So God made a plan to save us, to take payment for our sins, to right our wrongs, and He knew the only guy for the job was Jesus. So God whispered His plan to the prophets. And then God kept His promise. Jesus died on the cross for me and for you. He took our sins. All of them. Paid for them in full. This was always the plan.
Jesus said it would happen. And it did.
Even though we saw dimly. Even though we couldn’t handle the truth.
God promises to use all things for good (Rom 8:28), that He has plans for us to prosper (Jer 29:11) and that He'll be with us even to the end of time (Mt 28:20). These are promises you can bank on, because He made them.
Only God knows the entire picture, all of the information. Because He’s the only one who can handle the truth. When we doubt, when we see dimly, when we can’t handle the truth, we have to find hope in the fact that Jesus is the TRUTH, in the fact that He keeps His promises. We might not have all the puzzle pieces yet, but when we do, we’ll say, wow, that is more spectacular than I ever imagined.
Envision a push up. Get down on the floor if you need to. Do one fast.
Down. Up. Done.
Now do one s-l-o-w-l-y. Dddooowwnn and then back uuupppp. Harder right?
My yoga instructor was talking about how when we hold a pose we actually work our muscles more intensely than if we go in and out of a pose quickly. She asked if we knew why that was. “Because otherwise we cheat ourselves,” I answered. And I didn’t want her to think I was cutting corners throughout class, so I followed up with, “we don’t mean to, but we do.”
And it got me thinking about so many aspects of my life where I don’t mean to cheat myself, but I do.
I grab a handful of chocolate chips, because I love them, but I shove them in my mouth as I’m on my way out the door, and don’t really allow myself to savor the richness of them, the way the dark cacao sets off the slightly sweet from the cane sugar. What if I ate one, and then another, and then a few minutes later one more?
There are hugs I pull back from too quickly from my kids, because we’re in a rush to get to school, to practice, to bed. What if I held on tighter? Longer?
As soon as my coffee is in hand, I chug the first sip, eager for my morning caffeine. What if I took a deep breath first, inhaled the intoxicating aroma of roasted beans?
There are days I rush into Bible study, sliding into my seat as our discussion begins, and slip back out as quickly as possible after the final “amen” without pausing to absorb something I’ve learned or to consider a question someone asked. What if I got there early? Intentionally stayed put for a full five minutes after everyone else stands up and let it all soak in?
What if I held the poses of life longer?
How about you? Are you texting during a movie and missing beautiful lines that would make you weep? Typing an email while on the phone with someone else so you can get more done, but missing an idea the person you’re talking to is trying to share? Skimming through the book for book club just to get to the end without savoring the depth of the characters or a description of a breathtaking blue jay? Are we going through the motions so quickly that we’re cheating ourselves of the moments that nourish our bodies, stir our hearts, inspire our souls, and challenge our minds?
Are our mouths open? Are our eyes open? Are we allowing ourselves to be wowed and changed and loved by God?
I don’t want to cheat myself of any of those things. No. I want to taste every morsel of chocolate, breathe in every snuggle, smell every cup of coffee, learn as much as I can, understand better, grow stronger and more aware, be more in tune, and less tuned out. This week is the perfect week to challenge myself to this. There are apples to be tasted, leaves to crunch underfoot, a visit with my mom to enjoy, soccer games to cheer at, a date with my husband to flirt with him, a pot of pumpkin chili to prepare, and the music of my son playing in the worship band to listen to. I don’t want to miss a single beat or bite or breath. Will you join me? In tasting and seeing the goodness God has prepared for us?
What do you have in store this week and how can you savor it?
“Who here is a library nerd?” John Wood asked the crowd at the Center for Social Entrepreneurship at Miami University last week. Not only did I raise my hand, but I was all in. Because I may be the BIGGEST library nerd. I am a lover of books, a collector of stories. I want to read every classic, every new series my kids pick up, every book my friends recommend. I want to read them all and learn and get carried away and discover new friends, places, and perspectives. I am a reader and a writer and a storyteller. Words and books are my very pulse.
But one seventh of humanity can neither read nor write. They don’t have access to books, any books, let alone books in their own languages, books that teach literacy. But founder of Room to Read, John Wood is changing that. The man famous for his book, Leaving Microsoft to Change the World, was on a trekking trip in the Himalayas when he was challenged by a native schoolmaster, “Perhaps sir, you will some day come back with books.” Something inside John was stirred. Deeply. He left his high-paying executive position at Microsoft despite being repeatedly asked by his peers, “Are you crazy?” and has since reached 10 million kids. Ten million! That is world changing.
John believes every child should have the right to be educated, that just because they were born in Nepal or Sri Lanka doesn’t have to mean they lost the lottery when it comes to their future. Every child? Now that’s a bold goal. Bold goals are one of the lessons John says he has learned leads to success.
Are you being bold in your goals today? Because I know I’ve let some of mine slip. I have big dreams and God-inspired ideas. I have talks I’m itching to give, books I crave to publish, blogs I want to write, lives I hope to touch, people I long to remind that they are marvelously created by the ultimate Creator, and therefore they are a-ma-zing! But some of my grandiose dreams get lost in to-do lists, get squelched by rejections, get buried in the ins and outs of daily life. Sometimes I’m checking boxes, getting back on the treadmill, doing what I’ve always done. Sometimes I tell myself I’m doing all I can, but that’s not true. And it’s not enough. It’s not.
I’m not saying God calls us to grind ourselves to the quick. But He does challenge us to get going, get moving, get doing for Him. He has His hands on all of us, for something special. What’s the special thing God is urging you to do? The God who came up with the original designs for volcanoes and invented thunderstorms is not wimpy. He’s not a half-way kind of guy.
He doesn’t want me or you to be either. God strengthens us and empowers us and gives us these dreams, and He expects us to boldly chase them.
The question is, what are you going to do with yours? What has God put on your heart that you’ve been tinkering around with, dipping your toes in the water? It’s time to dive in head first. To be bold. As John Wood says, “Bold goals attract bold people.” And they do. Will people tell you, “no”? Of course. Will obstacles get in your way? Most definitely. Will God part the Red Sea, tumble the walls of Jericho, turn water into wine—make crazy, awesome, amazing, huge things happen that are supposed to happen when you are faithful to His call. Absolutely. So be bold today, and together, we too, can change the world.
What bold dreams are on your heart? What are you going to do with them?
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