​I was Googling all sorts of random facts—what color line a certain stop was on the subway, the historical context of a monument,—all in a day’s work when writing a novel. While searching a song on YouTube the side bar read, “Up Next.” In other words, the videos YouTube analytics thought I’d be interested in. The top suggestion was an interview with the actor who played Jesus in the movie The Passion.

​My husband and I saw it in the theatre with friends when it came out in 2004—fun date night, huh? We left the theatre in silence. As we got into our car I said, “I’m really glad we went. It was…powerful. But I don’t think I could ever watch it again.” True to my word, I haven’t. I’m squeamish and emotional. Viewing the flogging and torture of Christ, even if it was on the Silver Screen, was important to me as a Christian, to have a better understanding of what Jesus endured. But I didn’t think I could take it a second time around.
 
I never knew who the actor was who played Jesus or what he had done before or since, so his face and name on the sidebar of YouTube didn’t register anything with me. For the record it’s Jim Caviezel. But just the week prior, my daughter’s teacher had messaged saying she’d like to show The Passion in class but required parents’ permission due to the emotional and violent intensity. That email had been a week ago. I’d talked to my daughter about it. Sent a message back giving permission. Checked it off my list and had processed billions of pieces of information since without giving it another thought.
 
But now? I hesitated, intrigued by the video on the sidebar, about the movie that was more front of mind than it had been since I’d watched it thirteen years ago. 

A few blogs back I shared I wanted to spend the 40 days leading up to Easter seeking God like it was a quest. I read and prayed and forced myself to slow down, pause, and listen. I found Him, of course, in countless ways. Because God is always there. Everywhere. And because He is grander than anything imaginable, when we take off our blinders, we find Him. Sometimes I need to remind myself to look. Often I need help pulling those blinders off.
 
“Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” Matthew 6:33
 
I was only searching for a performance of a song, but God revealed Himself to me once again. Not because I was actively seeking Him in that moment, but because He knew Laura Smith needed to hear something specific at that particular time. The video was 39 minutes long. Who has time to watch that? It was the middle of my writing day. I had to pick up the kids from school in an hour. But I felt prompted to watch anyway. So I viewed the first few minutes, then let it play for another twenty in the background while I continued with my research. Then it was time to get my kids.
 
A zillion things occurred— ranging from carpooling to soccer practice that evening to finding someone's missing sock the next morning, and over twenty hours later I returned to my laptop. When I opened it the video was staring me in the face.

​Something told me I should watch the rest. Prepared to run it in the background, I pushed play. And then the interviewer asked Jim (the Jesus actor) if he had any parting words. The actor began with how much God loves us then broke into Old Aramaic, quoting his character in the film. I speak some French, a spattering of Spanish and Italian—meaning enough to buy train tickets or order a glass of wine, but Old Aramaic? Not a word. I had no clue what he was saying, but yet these words penetrated somewhere deeper than language could go.
 
Somehow hearing my Savior’s words spoken in His native tongue took me out of Ohio and my petty concerns of what font I’m typing in and the temperature of my coffee. I was sitting in my writing nook completely undone. Sobbing. Wrecked. It was as if a numbness I didn’t even realize I was experiencing had worn off and I suddenly felt God’s completeness, His unfathomable holiness, and in comparison my utter weakness. Also incredibly tangible was His grace that bridges the huge gap between the two more intensely than I understood was possible to feel. For a moment my blinders came off and I was dazzled by God’s magnificence. And that just shatters me in all kinds of beautiful directions.
 
Kids, don’t try this at home.
Seriously. Like the Professor explained to Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy that although they would have more adventures in Narnia, more incredible experiences of wonder, it would not be by entering through the wardrobe again, we all experience Christ in different ways and different times. Even how one of us discovers different aspects of God varies from day to day. I wasn’t searching for that video. I'm not even linking it here, because it being your door is unlikely. I didn’t know it existed. I certainly didn’t expect to watch the whole thing. This moment of clarity did not come from my striving, but through God's grace.
 
Seek Him today. I don’t know how He’ll reveal Himself to you. But He will. And when He does, you will be blown away.
 

​Every great story has a character searching for something. So much so, that Disney has made a franchise out of the “Finding…” title. Dory, separated from her parents, fervently searches the California waters for them. Marlin gets out of his shell, or sea anemone, to find his son, Nemo. In our favorite books and movies characters seek meaning, purpose, identity, true love, answers, friendship, redemption, the sorcerer’s stone, or heaps of treasure guarded by the ferocious dragon Smaug.

​What are you searching for? How hard are you looking for it?
 
I’m challenging myself during Lent (a season of introspection taking various forms in different denominations of the Christian church dating back to 325 AD) to seek Jesus like it’s a quest, like it’s the answer to everything, like my life depends on it. Because Jesus is all of the things our heroes seek—meaning, purpose, identity, true love, answers, friendship, redemption, everlasting life and treasure beyond compare. I don’t know what your Lenten practices or beliefs are, but I am certain we could all be better off with a little more time with Jesus.
A few more minutes in our day allowing Him to remind us that He designed us, He loves us, He selected us, He reaches out to us and offers us not skimpy, or getting by, but abundant living. More moments understanding how grand and vast He is. Some more time realizing that no matter what the world offers it is hollow in comparison to the love, acceptance, and glory Jesus offers. We don’t need to look far. He told us, “Behold, I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” But how often are we talking to Him? Listening to Him? Reaching out to Him? Seeking Him?
 
If I lose Wi-Fi, I go on a quest to find that freaking connection! I’ll restart the router. Unplug the router. Turn the router on and off. I’ll turn the Wi-Fi on and off on my computer. Search for networks all over again, re-click, reenter the insane password issued to me by Time Warner that only Little Man Tate could remember, and go through the whole process as many times as necessary. What am I doing to hook up to Jesus, to find my connection with Him? How fervently am I seeking Him in this journey of my life?

​God made the entire human race and made the earth hospitable, with plenty of time and space for living so we could seek after God, and not just grope around in the dark but actually find him. He doesn’t play hide-and-seek with us. He’s not remote; he’s near. We live and move in him, can’t get away from him! –Acts 17:27-28
 
Today we’re officially one week into the 40 days of Lent. My journey began with the flu, and for the first couple of days what I was mostly seeking was for my cough and fever to go away and a little normalcy in my sleep patterns. My focus was fragmented. I prayed off and on as I lay awake in the middle of the night or as I drifted off in the middle of the day, but I didn’t want just mumblings with God, I wanted to seek Him. So I began reading the Psalms, and just meditating on His love. This is what I found on Day 1. 

​Pretty remarkable? One day into my quest and I was already finding Jesus. Have you found any time with Jesus yet? Have you been seeking Him? Why not put down this blog, close your eyes, and reach out to Him. He is near.

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
​

You may have noticed there was no True Reflections blog last week. I missed you all, but I was taking a break. I was resting. When was the last time you rested?
 
I mean really rested. For more than five minutes? When was the last time you turned off your phone, sat, gazed, breathed, and didn’t look at the clock for hours on end?
 
“When could I possibly,” you ask? I ask myself that sometimes, too—like all the times. This weekend our calendar includes dinner with friends, eleven soccer games (three of which are out of town), a graduation, church, a wedding, a visit with my mom, and a team meeting. It is physically impossible for us to get to all of these things.
But we’ll try.
And then we’ll be full and happy and connected and stimulated and… exhausted! I think for most of us in today’s world, this is a typical snapshot of a day-in-the-life.
 
And I am so grateful this is my life, because I love my friends, kids, and family. But it is impossible to maintain this kind of momentum. I didn’t even mention the fact that we should try to squeeze in eating, bathing, and sleeping somewhere in the mix. So how do we find rest in the midst of mayhem (awesome mayhem, but mayhem none the less)?

We have to be intentional.
We need to schedule down time just as intentionally as we plan workouts or conference calls. There are two kinds of rest that we need to make time for:

1. Breathing room—margin in our day to day, time between meetings, to sit and have conversations, to avoid driving like a maniac and being late to everything
2. Sabbath—actual time “off” to process and decompress all of the time “on”

 
Both are critical to our mental and physical wellbeing, but it is the latter that I’m talking about here. The get away from it all, put your phone away too (crazy, I know but so freeing), let your brain and all the thoughts in it, your heart rate and your body s-l-o-w down.
 
Remember, God created Sabbath. He wasn’t exhausted when He created the world, He is God, so it didn’t tax or stress Him. At all. But when He was done, God invented the day off to teach us that all good work needs to be followed by rest. God’s creation of Sabbath was just as important as His creation of land and sea, animals and plants. He knew what we sometimes forget—without rest, we can’t process all the great stuff that happens during the busy times.
 
By the seventh day God had finished his work.
On the seventh day He rested from all his work.
God blessed the seventh day. He made it a Holy Day
Because on that day he rested from his work, All the creating God had done. Genesis 2: 2-4
 
As Priscilla Shirer says in her book, Breathe, “In the midst of a universe that cannot exist for a second without constant motion, God transcended the order of nature. He stopped. He rested. And He prescribes the same for you and me.”

My husband and I just got back from one of these brilliantly, spectacular slow downs. We escaped to my mom’s place in the mountains for a couple of days while my incredible mother stayed with our kiddos. In the mountains it’s next to impossible to get a signal. There’s no cable. There’s not even a coffee shop (don’t panic, we packed our Nespresso). However there are breath-taking mountains, a still lake, winding walking trails, the sound of birds singing, and Brett and I had each other. We spent our time walking and talking, sharing, reading the Bible, watching Nicholas Sparks movies, cooking delicious food, listening to a great sermon series, and just staring out at the view.
 
And in this time and space my husband and I exhaled. Together, we exchanged stories that in our whirl and swirl of daily life had never surfaced. We shared hopes and aspirations. We listened to and worked out each other’s issues, stresses, concerns. And we took time by ourselves, too. I journaled about where I’ve been this past year and where I’m headed. I made plans, jotted down goals, dreamed.
 
Amazingly, when my life wasn’t so noisy—and I just don’t mean actual noise, but the noise of busyness and distraction—I could hear more clearly. I could hear my husband more crisply. Without the clutter in my brain, I could hear God’s voice reminding me how much He loves me, how much peace He offers, how He’s got my life safely guarded in His hands. When I’m too busy, it’s harder to find time to hear His voice. But in the stillness it surrounded me. And it reminded me of my true reflection, that I am a daughter of Christ.
 
It’s summertime folks. And that can mean trips and camps and conferences and getting caught up on all the things we don’t get to during the other parts of the year. But it is also a time where it may be easier to carve out some space to just be. Whether you take one personal day or a handful of vacation days, I urge you to find a beautiful spot—a rooftop, a dock, a field of wildflowers, a beach, a park bench with a peaceful view—and sit and unplug and rest and unwind and breathe and listen. Take time off. You don't just deserve it. You need it. It's part of what God created you to do. And if you're worried about what will happen to all of the items on your to do list while you're taking time off, I promise, God has them under control. He's got you covered. I also promise you will not regret resting.
 
Do you have any plans to unwind this summer? I’d love to hear about them in the comments section below.

​Do you know that old Rod Stewart song, “Every Picture Tells A Story (Don’t It)”? I’m  understanding more and more that every person has a story, and they’ll tell it to you, and it will blow you away. All you have to do is ask.
 
I recently experienced an amazing event in Nashville called STORY. The experience was filled with presenters sharing their stories and inspiring attendees to explore and share theirs. Abigail Washburn the Mandarin speaking, banjo playing woman from Illinois, who just returned from a tour along the Great Wall of China with Yo Yo Ma was a stand in for a sick presenter. What? This was the sub?
 
And Jeremy Cowart, celebrity photographer who has taken photos of everyone from the Pope to the Kardashians to Sting, yet uses his celebrity to launch amazing humanitarian projects such as Help-Portrait, which offers free portraits to people who have never had their picture taken, and campaigns in Haiti, Rwanda, and Uganda to raise awareness of the devastation these people have endured and funding to help them rebuild. This guy was the guy who struggled through high school. This was the guy whose mantra growing up was, “I can’t”. But his parents repeated to him, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength” (Phil 4:13). A reminder of truth that WE CAN, despite what the world tells us, despite what our achievement tests score us. Look what he’s become! Think what you can become.

​Jon Guerra appeared on stage plucking his acoustic guitar and breaking into a soulful melody “We are stained it’s true, but when Your light shines through, we all look like stained glass windows to You.” And there was the lady who played the bassoon and the woman I bumped into at an after party in a warehouse who made a cotton candy tree full of wishes. And James Rhodes, world renowned classical pianist and composer, who played Chopin so beautifully it made me weep, then proceeded to share openly his story of being sexually abused as a child and how music saved him.
 
Not to mention the fact my sweet friend who I attended Story with and I, stayed up late in an artsy Nashville hotel wearing our pj’s watching Taylor Swift videos. We all have stories.
 
I could go on and on. But you get the idea. Stories. We all have them. Each and every human being was knitted together in our mother’s wombs (Psalm 139:14) by God, our Creator, with skills and fears, hopes and hiccups, weaknesses and joys, leaps and bounds, whispers and screams. And God takes all of those marvelous little details and writes our stories. It’s like an Encyclopedia Brown mystery, in that God gives us the opportunity to choose if the hero (you or me) will pick A or B, will they give up or keep going, will they try harder or stop trying, will she dream bigger, smile broader, take a different path when the first one is blocked? Will he or she trust in the Author of their story for a happy ending even when the villain seems menacing and the tornado is twisting and they’re locked in a closet? Will they tap into the courage and peace their God has to offer? Will you?

What’s your story? What’s the story of the person next to you, the one you’ve never talked to, the kid who sits in the back of class, or the woman on the far side of church, or the person who always shows up late and leaves a minute early at boot camp? Are you willing to ask them? Are you willing to share yours? Because when we hear other people’s stories, we see their true reflections, often for the first time. And when we share ours, we let other people see ours. And they are all beautiful.

I need a new pair of rain boots. We need to have a mesh bag for our class trip. We need more bottled waters. I need to find my keys. I need to get to practice early. I need sleep!

 We “need” so much. These are just some of the things I heard my family needing, yesterday. Maybe you need something more substantial—enough money to cover your bills, a surgery, a miracle. What do you need today?

Sometimes we throw the word “need” around loosely, when we should substitute want. But there is one thing we do need every minute of every day, Jesus.

My precious friend, Holly Starr’s, latest CD releases today, aptly named, Everything I Need. Starr once again turns the focus of her incredible music to realizing we can’t do anything without Jesus, but with Him, well, we have everything we need.

The title track is one I heard Starr sing at a show a year and a half ago. Since then our whole family has been singing the refrain. It’s something to meditate on, something to remember, something to sing in your head when you’re stuck in traffic or arguing with someone you care about or at your wits end. For all those times we’re thinking we need something, but are so overwhelmed to even know what that something is, it’s Jesus. He is our air, our light, and our daily bread. As Starr describes Him in another song on the CD, “God Is,” 

This summer I took a Zumba class for the first time. Zumba defies letting go of control. I grew up dancing—ballet, high school dance team, and out and out jamming to R.E.M. and New Order at clubs and college parties. But grown women aren’t supposed to shake their hips, do the snake, or wiggle their behinds. Unless, apparently, they’re doing Zumba. The first couple of classes I was like a robot, learning the steps and memorizing the combinations. Somewhere during the third class, I realized when I stopped focusing so hard on getting the footwork right, I could feel the beat, find my groove, and actually do the routines better. But I had to convince myself that it is, after all, okay for a grown woman to shake it (at least in Zumba class). And when I did, it WAS SO MUCH FUN!
 
Sometimes we need to shake things up to find our groove, do our routines better and experience life more fully. One area I fear I might try to control too much is my faith walk. I go to this church, at this time. I read “this much” of the Bible each morning. I do Bible study on Wednesdays, and do the homework for it at lunchtime when my kids are at school to refocus midday. Which is all great. Because it keeps me in step with God. It keeps me faithful. But what if I redefined walking with Jesus as dancing with Him? What if I let Him spin me and dip me, always trusting Him to catch me, and twirl me back to Him? 
What if I shook it up a bit?
 What if you did too?
 
So, I’m challenging myself, and you, to shake up your dance with Jesus this school year. Try a new service, a new station, a new podcast, listen to a different preacher, read a new book, join a new group, pray outside (or inside if you’re usually an outdoor girl), write with a crazy-colored pen in your journal. 

Go for a hayride. Eat a caramel apple and don’t worry about the mess. Rake a pile of leaves and then pounce in it. I can’t wait to hear how all of you shake up your school years!
 
FREE BOOK
To get your shake-up started, I’m offering my book, It’s Complicated, which just so happens to revolve around four college roommates as they go back to school, for FREE through the end of September. Share with your friends. Click here to download now.
 SHAKE UP YOUR GROUP
I’d also love to shake up things in your group by coming to speak to you about how beautiful and beloved you are, because you are made in Christ’s image. Click here to find out more about my speaking.  And just message back if you'd like to book a date.