​I went for a run today, listened to my “Run” playlist and came back dripping with sweat. It had been a long time (due to the unseasonably cool weather) since I’d been dripping with sweat, or since I’d listened to music on a run. I’ve been listening to podcasts and books on tapes, which are great, but music? I’ve missed it. It feeds my soul. I realized I’ve been busy doing lots of wonderful things, but some of my favorite things have been packed away with my swimsuits and sundresses. As the cicadas emerge (yikes!) so do lots of other things that make my heart sing. 

​It’s not that I’ve been doing nothing. Or that I’ve been doing yucky things. Not at all. It’s just I feel a tangible shift as spring sidesteps into summer, from school year, to having the kids home. Yes, my actual daily routine changes, but something about my whole persona swings too.
 
I live in a college town, so my habitat changes overnight from the buzz of millennials filling the sidewalks and shops wearing back packs and holding coffee cups to almost empty streets, and locals splashing with their kids in the uptown fountains while licking ice cream cones. How does your life change when you turn your calendar to summer? How does your schedule change with longer, hotter days? Do you go from pots of soup to steaks on the grill? From jazz to pop? From evening workouts at the gym to early morning walks outside?

I’m transitioning from things I love to other things I love—from boots to flip flops, from dark roast to iced coffee, from the darkest of burgundy to the palest pinks and brightest blues on my fingers and toes. I’m grateful for all of them! And they’re all me—parts of me—parts of me that need to be expressed and that blink in joy at the dazzling sunlight when they emerge after hibernating.
 
So for now, I’ll tuck away my favorite army jackets and close off my beloved fireplace. I’ll stretch my legs and let my mind dance and allow the freedom of summer to infiltrate my very being. And when the leaves start to turn, I’ll be just as excited to pull out my sweaters and scarves.
 
How about you? Why not make a list of things you love about summertime? I’d love to hear how your schedule switches and how your different God-given passions and joys emerge in the warmer months.
 

​I was at a musical the other night and at the first joke I heard a deep, hearty laugh from somewhere behind me. I smiled. It was the kind of laugh that made me think of a grandfather, although I barely knew mine, or of Santa Claus. It was someone’s laugh who wasn’t concerned if anyone else thought that line was funny, who could have cared less how loud or quiet his laugh was, who was comfortable in the art of being entertained, and completely ready to sit back and enjoy the show. It was a lovely, welcome sound.

A few moments later I heard it again. This guy and his deep down from his belly laughter was fresh air in a stuffy theatre. He was at the high school’s production of Annie, and he was there to listen to the actors say their lines, pay attention to the performance, and savor every moment of the show.
 
Was I paying full attention? Allowing the fun to wash over me?
 
Am I that engaged in my life—listening to every line, savoring every moment, breathing in the spring air, tasting zesty tacos on Tuesday nights, laughing out loud? Or am I rushing around, shoving down bites, distracted, thinking about somewhere other than where I am, worried about what other people are doing, about how I’m going to get my to-do list done, criticizing when others make mistakes?

The man’s laughter was contagious. Because he was so comfortable cracking up, it gave others free license to join in. He got the crowd more engaged, laughing harder, which turned up the actors’ games as they played it up all that much more for the crowd. One man’s laughter made all of the jokes funnier, all of the inferences more clever, all of the performers better at their craft.

I don’t know who this man was, but I know I want to be more like him. I want to laugh out loud, and not just as an LOL abbreviation on a text, but so loud that others can hear me, that they might even join in, or at least smile. I want to chuckle, chortle, and snort and enjoy each and every moment of this amazing life. I want to gripe less and giggle more. Are you with me?

Loosen up a little today. Allow something silly to tickle your funny bone. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks. Laugh and laugh and laugh some more until you get others to join in—until you create a chain reaction of joy.

​Advent is all about preparing for Christmas. Are you preparing for anything? Advent is an expectant waiting. Are you waiting for anything?
 
Are you waiting to see if you got the job, if your check cleared, the results of a pregnancy test, a blood test, your midterm grades, if you got into your first choice? Are you checking your email constantly?

​When you pass the class, get the second interview, get the meeting there is relief and there is joy. But the joy of Christmas is so much richer, so much more, because nothing can dampen it, because it lasts. Because even in the midst of joyful occurrences there will also be days when you lose the game or your job, when the test results scare the pants off of you, when your dryer breaks and you have four kids and more laundry hanging on chairs around your house than imaginable (oh, did I write that? Well, yeah, that happened this week) and it’s harder to find the joy. Some days it’s near impossible to find joy, especially if Christmas means missing someone you love or facing something or someone you don’t feel capable of facing.
 
But the joy of Christmas is available. It’s real. It’s accessible, no matter what the circumstances. How do we get that kind of joy? What kind of joy is that? It’s the joy the angel told the shepherds about on the very first Christmas.
 
“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.”—Luke 2:10
 
The shepherds? Well, they wouldn’t have been the most educated or the most refined guys in town. We would probably call their lives a “rough existence”. They hiked around on steep hills all day, fought off scary predators like wolves, and slept on the ground with a herd of animals, no matter what the weather. There wouldn’t be anything glamorous about shepherding. They didn’t get to wear snazzy clothes, live in fancy homes or hang out with the in crowd. They were most likely exhausted and smelly. But they were waiting for something. The prophets had told them for hundreds of years of the anointed one, the Messiah, who would be born of the lineage of David in Bethlehem, live in both Egypt and in Nazareth, and who would save the world, who would save them. The angel came to the shepherds, who were possibly run down by the day-in-day-out of shepherding, but who were waiting for something—something big. Because the joy the angel spoke of wasn’t just for the pretty and the connected, it wasn’t just for the people with gorgeous Insta pictures and stunning kitchens. It was for the gritty, the grimy, the grumpy, and even the Grinches.
 

​The angel said, “I bring you good news that will cause great joy.” Good news. Haven’t seen that in a while on my newsfeed. Would you like to hear some? Aren’t we about ready for some GOOD news? Great joy? Not average joy or temporary joy or ‘bring a flashing smile to your face’ joy, but great joy. Where do we sign up? Could it possibly be intended for people like us?
 
Yes. Because the angel said the joy was for ALL of the people. That’s me and that’s you no matter what our status is, where we’re headed in 2017, or where we’ve been in 2016.
 
That joy is Jesus. That joy is that God so loved the world he sent his only son to save us. And his son said, “Yes! I want to do that! I love them so much; I’ll do anything for them. Yes, I understand it will be painful, grueling, shameful, unbearable, but yes, I love them that much. I’ll take it all for them, so they can feel grace, so they can comprehend love, so they can feel peace, so they can know joy.”

Christmas is a celebration that Jesus said ‘yes’. That He came down to earth as He and God had planned all along. Even though the stakes were high—the highest. But it is more. Christmas is the celebration that the little baby who was born in Bethlehem, that fulfilled the prophecies from the past several hundreds of years, also took our shame and guilt and pain, so we could be free to live the beautiful life God intended for us all along.
 
That’s the kind of joy that no bad news can steal from you. That’s the kind of joy, when you know it down to your core that nothing can dampen. That’s the kind of joy that makes you sing and dance and marvel that anything could feel that good, that glorious. That is unspeakable joy.
Merry Christmas! Joy to the World!

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 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?
 
 

We were driving down the highway when both of my daughters started cracking up in the backseat. “Look at that lady!” They eventually squeaked and pointed between peals of laughter.
 
In the van to our right was a woman not just singing by herself in her car, but all out busting a cold move. She was flapping her arms and bopping her head and despite looking a little odd, she also looked like possibly the happiest person on the planet. “That must be her absolute favorite song!” I decided. As we drove past we noticed her license plate read SONGS1. “And,” one of the kids added, “she must really love music.”
 
Twenty minutes later in our drive as cars wove forward and back, switched lanes and repositioned themselves we were again beside SONGS1. Still her entire upper body was moving and grooving. She was still in an all-out-sing. Clearly she was on to new songs, but it seemed that all songs brought this woman so much pure joy.

What brings you that kind of joy? When was the last time you experienced it?

The other day at the pool, two of my kids were on the basketball court. A little guy, maybe three or four years old, came bounding up to them and proclaimed, “I knew you were playing basketball over here! I am really good at basketball!” He proceeded to swing his arms haphazardly while the ball kind of bounced beside him and the biggest smile in the world shone from his face.
 
Do you know this kind of uninhibited joy?
 
Do you sing at the top of your lungs?
Do you start dancing if the music makes your foot tap?
Do you grin from ear to ear, join the game, approach strangers, and bounce the ball just because it’s fun, because it makes you happy? We should. God wants us to.
 
Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth,
burst into jubilant song with music
Psalm 98:4
 
I know there is work to be done. There are bills to be paid, meals to be prepared, practices to drive to, tanks to be filled, and always laundry and more laundry to be put away.
 
But God calls us to make a joyful noise. Yes, He wants us to be responsible—to do the work set in front of us, but He also wants us to delight in all of the beautiful, marvelous experiences He placed in this world for our pleasure. Driving to work? Call a friend who makes you laugh. Sweeping the floor or exercising? Put on some great tunes and “burst into jubilant music”.  

Wear the clothes that make you feel good.
Paint your walls your favorite color.
Eat the foods that make you say, “yum” out loud (think watermelon and corn on the cob from the local farmer’s market). 
Have a spontaneous dance party.
Roll your windows down and let your hair blow in the breeze.
 
Find the things that bring you great joy. Take time for them. Read a chapter by your favorite author. Stop by your favorite bakery. Go for a bike ride on that gorgeous trail by the stream. Make popsicles. Then eat them! (It’s so easy to make popsicles! I made these with the juice at the bottom of a bowl of watermelon we’d devoured, two mushy bananas, and a handful of leftover blueberries. I dropped them all in the blender, whirred them together, poured them in these plastic molds, and popped them in the freezer. The whole process took about four minutes. They are sweet and so very refreshing on a hot humid afternoon).

And by all means shout for joy and bring a gift of laughter to all you do, wherever you go. It will make you feel good inside and out. And maybe someone will look at you and say, “They look like the happiest person in the world.”
 
On your feet now—applaud God!
Bring a gift of laughter,
sing yourselves into his presence
Psalm 100:1-2
 
I’d love to hear…what brings you joy? How do you intend to incorporate it into your life this week?

​Are you a Prince fan?
In high school there were so many mornings as I was getting ready, when I popped a Prince cassette into my jam box (80’s girl), cranked up the volume, and sang along at the top of my lungs. I’m sure my parents loved that.
 
Tragically, it was confirmed this week that the cause for Prince’s death on April 21 was a drug overdose. Tragic, because Prince was so talented, so young, and apparently, so very unhappy.
 
Prince seemingly had it all. All those things we wish for? All those things we dream about—that we think would make life idyllic? He achieved so many of them. Have you ever said…
 
If only I could play an instrument.
If only someone would notice me.
If only I could sing.
If only I could dance.
If only people found me attractive.
If only money wasn’t a problem.
If only I could get a record deal.
If only I could be in a movie.
If only I could be on the cover of a magazine.
If only I were famous.
If only I could win a Grammy award.
If only I could play the Super Bowl.
If only I had millions of dollars.
 
Items on our bucket lists Prince achieved. But despite being able to play 27 instruments, winning seven Grammy awards, an Academy Award, selling over 100 million records worldwide, being considered one of the greatest guitarists of all time, living in a palatial multi-million dollar estate, Paisley Park, Prince died alone. He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t content. Because he was missing something.

​See, we’re all born with a longing in our hearts—a longing to be loved, accepted, recognized, to use the gifts and talents we’ve been given in a way that will make a difference, get us noticed, earn us applause. This is not a bad thing. This is truly how we were created. God longs for us to seize the day and live life to the absolute fullest. But no matter how much we achieve, there is only one thing that can truly satisfy this longing. This one thing will satiate us completely when nothing else will.
 
All these worldly things—popularity, fame, money, success—give us a temporary thrill, a temporary high. But the next day we’ll want more. One gig, or sale, or tournament win, or A on our report cards, or client, or heart on Instagram, as we all know, is great, but it’s never enough. Because once we have one, another one looks awfully sweet, and we crave more. Not only will we want more, but our coaches and teammates will be counting on us for another point, our bosses will be looking to us for another deal, and (I speak from experience) our agents will be expecting more book sales.
 
And although our accomplishments should be celebrated (as we talked about in last week’s blog), none of those things will fulfill us; they aren’t truly what we crave, as Prince could have told us. Author Matthew Kelly says, “You can never have enough of something you don’t need.” But there is one thing that will make us feel full and complete. One person whose applause is constant and counts for everything. Jesus.
 
Jesus made you and me and Prince and Morris Day. He made us exactly who we are. And when we live a life in relationship with Him, talking to Him, trusting in Him, turning our problems and cares and worries and mistakes and victories and triumphs all over to Him, then not only does Jesus cheer more loudly and clearly than a thousand retweets or a thousand fans, but His acceptance of us for who we are, for who He created us to be is, all we need. Jesus totally satisfies our cravings, fills the empty hole inside that seems to be always longing for something more. Jesus’ love is what we were created to seek. It is His applause we were made to pursue. Because it is completely gratifying. And when we allow Jesus’ love to surround us—we don’t need another anything else, we have everything we need.

​Last week my husband was complaining of headaches.
Last week I kept looking in the mirror and thinking I looked pasty, like strangely pale.
 
Turns out he was making himself his usual two shots of espresso each morning, but he was using the decaf. Ouch!
Turns out, the new bottle of foundation I bought was two shades lighter than I normally get. Ew!
 
Brett had fooled himself into thinking his dose of caffeine would wake him up, and I was tricking myself into believing my make-up would even out my skin tone. It was unintentional, but it was our faults, because we weren’t looking hard enough at the truth. We were in too much of a hurry, too much of a routine, felt like we had it all under control, when clearly we did not. But the result of all of our self-imposed hoodwinking was both of our heads were messed up. Gheesh! You’d think we could count on ourselves!
 
But we are guilty of self-imposed unintentional deception. We tell ourselves lies. All the time.
“If I just lost five pounds.”
“If I just had a job lined up.”
“If I just played for that team.”
“If I just got this deal.”
“If I just looked like/sounded like/performed like her.”
And the result of lying to ourselves about our worth—that we would be better off if we were different—is much more damaging than a headache or looking ghostly. We tell ourselves we’re not enough. And when we do that, we take away from the beautiful creations God made us to be.

Why do we deceive ourselves? Why do we fall into the routines of life, rushing around in a hurry without taking the time to open our eyes and examine the truth?
 
But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God’s instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you—from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted. 1 Peter 2:9-10
 
We are chosen by God. Chosen for high work. Chosen to be holy. He loved us so much He died for us. He must love us, immensely, if He was willing to die for us. To Christ we matter. To Him we have value. To Him we are not something to be rejected. He has already accepted us, fully. Why would we ever tell ourselves otherwise?
 
I mean the world tricks us plenty. You’d be happier if you drank this beer, wore these yoga pants, had this hairstyle, etc. The world cajoles us into thinking we have to look or act a certain way, that we need a prom date or an SUV, that we need to live in a certain neighborhood or have a certain relationship status to be content. The world makes us believe who we are and what we do is not enough.

God tells us the opposite. God loves us for who we are, exactly who we are. He doesn’t care how many miles we logged, how many points we scored, which income bracket we fall into, or if we check married, single, divorced, or widow on our tax returns. He just loves us. For us. Because He made us. Exactly how we are.
 
It’s time to discard both the lies the world is telling us today, and the ways we’re deceiving ourselves. We need to take time to focus on how excellently formed and marvelously functioning we truly are, exactly as we are. We need to run with this truth, embrace and own it, without ever worrying about how we measure up or compare to someone else, because that’s just messing up our pretty priceless heads. We need to instead just go ahead and be what we were made to be, our own true beautiful reflections.
 
Are you rushing around believing what’s in front of you, because it’s there, because it’s easy? Are you conning yourself into how you can be energized or how you can feel beautiful? Or are you taking time to examine the truth? The truth that God loves you. Are you deceiving yourself today? Telling yourself you’re not enough? Telling yourself you fall short? That if you just did (fill in the blank) you'd be better? Take a breath. Open your eyes. Wider. Look at what’s really going on. Examine who you truly are. Because you are more than enough for the one true King, therefore, you are enough.
 
So since we find ourselves fashioned into all these excellently formed and marvelously functioning parts in Christ’s body, let’s just go ahead and be what we were made to be, without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we aren’t. Romans 12:6

I laugh as I write this, because I know why. I love to write, and hope my books sell enough that publishers will want to publish my future manuscripts. I love my children and long for them to feel fulfilled. I want to be a good steward of the family budget. I like to be liked. Don’t we all?

I don’t know what end results big or small loom over your head today, but I do know God has them already planned and already taken care of.

 Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Matthew 26:33 ESV

And knowing that He’s got me covered, that He’s got us covered should give us all a bit of breathing room. A chance to step away from the end results and enjoy the process. For me, that means delighting in constructing a conversation between two of my characters. How will they react to one another? Will one of them look away? What will go on inside of their heads? It means cheering from the sidelines for my kids and smiling when I put a box of their favorite cereal in the grocery cart. What does it mean for you? What end results are you hanging on to today, maybe even stressing about, perhaps being anxious about? Let them go.