​I am a horrible singer, but I love music, so I sing all the time anyway. I’m constantly adding songs to my Spotify playlists. One of my kids will play something that I positively need or the worship band at church will sing something I have to add to my library. When I add new songs, I find myself playing them on repeat, singing them again and again, as they do the magic that music does to me, tugging at my heart, pulling my feet to step and sway, making me feel lighter, more alive. Psalm 96 begins by instructing us to, “Sing to the Lord a new song.” 

​It got me wondering what my current song to the Lord is, what playlist I am automatically clicking on, and if it needs to be freshened up. I thought through my days—praises to God for my husband and kids. Pleas to God for friends and family with ailments and needs. Thanks to God before meals, as the new days dawn, as the tired days tug at my eyelids. Good songs I sing to God. At least I think they are. But new ones? Could I use some? Could you?
 
This past week I’ve been reading Psalm 96 over and over asking God, “How do you want me to change my tune? What new song would you like me to sing?”
 
Remember how big I am, I hear Him say as I gaze upward at impossibly tall trees reaching toward brilliant blue sky on my back porch. Remember how faithful I am He whispers as I go for a walk with my youngest, listening to him chatter about the Skittles his team won reviewing terms for vocabulary and about the clues to the crime in the novel he’s reading—voice animated, blue eyes flashing excitement. This boy who has overcome a hole in his heart and a life-threatening peanut allergy in his handful of years on earth, who God has literally saved over and over. Believe how complete I am, God nudges, as I glimpse a stunning sunrise in the morning and am captivated by a breath-taking sunset in the same day, murals painted across the sky, the ultimate performance-art-piece bookending my waking hours.

Growing up we went to see the Nutcracker every year. I was mesmerized by the antique theatre with velvet curtains and gold columns, the live orchestra, and mostly by the Sugar Plum Fairy dancing on her toes in pink satin pointe shoes. As a young ballet dancer she was who I wanted to be #lifegoals.

​Now, with a family of my own, we have a new Christmas tradition. Each year we go see Awaited—a modern musical production depicting the Christmas story. This is not your grade school Christmas pageant. I am amazed by the spectacular costumes—ranging from a metallic gold poisonous frog to the giant camel trodding down the aisles that looks like a Jim Henson creation. There’s a snow machine that rains snow on the audience while the cast performs a delicate rendition of “Silent Night.” The shepherds are strong and stomp around stage with giant wooden staffs. They look more like body guards then guys who hang out with sheep. The music complete with harpists, multiple drum sets, electric guitars, keyboards, etc. rivals a Broadway soundtrack. But my favorite part is the three kings.
 
The kings wearing towering crowns and flowing robes journey down the rows of spectators with their entourages in search of The Star. Because they’re brilliant scholars, and they know when a certain star appears that the world’s savior is being born. Which is life changing, for everyone. Their performance begins with a quest, including climbing ladders on stage to search the heavens. “We three kings have traveled so far.”
 
And then the wise men see it. And it changes everything.
 
The music crescendos. The kings toss down their crowns, strip off their robes to simpler tunics, put down their treasures in awe and wonder. They are no longer concerned with their earthly status or designer clothes or monetary worth or how long their journey has taken. All they care about is that star and what it means—salvation, peace, joy, hope and love. They spin around the stage twirling on scarves, suspended in air.
 
Do you feel it? 

​A few days until Christmas are you spinning and twirling delighted in the promises Jesus offers?
 
Or are you frantic, frazzled or freaked out, worn out by your journey? How far have you traveled this week, this season, this year? Not just literally, but figuratively? Baking cookies, wondering why the teacher’s gift was NOT delivered by Amazon Prime in two days, picking up the extra pack of stamps you need to finish sending out your cards, staying up late or rising insanely early to concoct the side dish you’re taking to the event. I enjoy shopping for people I love, baking delicious food, and sending cards to stay in touch with far away friends. But I do NOT want to lose myself in the lists and the to-dos. How about the bigger stuff? The job hunt or college search? The acclimating to a new city? The figuring out how to do life now that your body no longer does what it used to do or now that a person you depended on is no longer there? I don’t want to get overwhelmed or preoccupied with these things either.
 
I want to step back and let the real Christmas story soak in. That when Jesus showed up on the scene in Bethlehem 2000 years ago the world was a wreck. There were corrupt politicians and civil wars and poverty. Spend five minutes on your favorite news app and you’ll see plenty of the same today. Mary and Joseph’s marriage wasn’t exactly starting as they’d planned or expected. Their current living situation wasn’t ideal. Doctors weren’t going to be able to help with this birth. But Jesus was coming to save the world.

To save them. To save us. To save you. To save me.
 
We worry about all of it—did we get everything on our list, do we have the right outfits to wear, where did we put our phones, are we going to max out our credit cards, can we get all of our work done in the midst of the Christmas festivities to please our clients, our bosses, and to pay the bills? Will we heal? Will they heal? When? But we can lay it all down. Our worldly status. Our crowns. Our treasures and revel in the peace, joy, hope, and love that Jesus brought down to the world.
 
Jesus came on Christmas. But His love, His promise of salvation for all of us is for every day. Breathe it in. Take a moment to stand completely still letting it soak in. Then revel in it. Merry Christmas.
 
P.S. If you haven't seen Awaited, or can't get tickets, a full version of the show will be available to stream at http://awaitedshow.com  starting this Thursday at 7pm and also the whole show will be on WCPO (9) on 12/24 at 5pm and 11:30pm and WLWT (5) on 12/25 at 5am and 11am. Treat yourself and your family. You'll be blown away!

…if you’d like more reminders about how amazing and loved you are throughout the week, follow me on:
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​I’ve been going to the North Carolina Mountains since I was in eighth grade. My mom says she built the house there, because she fell in love with the scenery. Which I get, because the view from that little lake community nestled in the midst of the Blue Ridge peaks is breathtaking. But for me there’s another pull—in our crazy, whirlwind, hectic, busy, overscheduled lives I’m drawn to the simplicity of the mountain house as if by a magnetic force.

​No one has practice in the mountains. Or rehearsal. Or meetings. Or homework. The majority of the time our phones read “No Service.” In the mountains I don’t wear jewelry or perfume or eyeliner. Everything I need for the week fits into a small duffle bag. Mostly I wear my hair in a braid.

​We play outside all day—going on mountain runs, playing Putt Putt and scrambling after tiny lizards, watching their colors change as they land on a leaf or skitter onto mulch. The kids shoot hoops and play soccer tennis. My mom and I talk for hours. When we head inside it’s for home cooked meals, Scrabble and movies (this is a no streaming zone). Three of us finished the books we brought with us and dove into new ones. 

I’m not saying I could do this all of the time. I wouldn’t even want to. For one thing I’d miss Starbucks, the Internet, and lipstick too much. My kids would go through withdrawal from their soccer teams and bins of Legos. But for a week here and there it’s so lovely to unplug and slow down. To not be a slave to email or texts or social media, because it’s too hard to even check them with a wayward signal. To never look at the clock, because there’s nowhere to be. To eat when we’re hungry and sleep until I wake. And when I do wake it’s to the sound of birds warming up their vocal chords in song and church bells echoing through the valley instead of the ringtone du jour I’ve set for my alarm. I walk out onto the deck, breathe in the mountain air, and open up my Bible to just talk to God until someone else rises or the urge to make a pot of coffee in the Mr. Coffee overtakes me. For me, spring break with my mom and kids is a refreshing reset from the scampering of day to day.

​But I do love day to day. I love the things I do, the places I go, the things I’m responsible for. It’s just that sometimes, the amount of them, the intensity of them, the urgency of them, the fullness of them? They wear me down and stress me out. So inserting a week of Sabbath does my body and soul good. 

As I re-enter reality it’s key for me to remember to take deep breaths, to admire the views, to slow down and savor even in the midst of the busyness.

When was the last time you took a real rest? How do you slow down? Where is your peaceful place? Leave a comment below. I’d love to hear. Let’s work together to try and find that still, quiet place this week. And when we do, let's breathe peace in and exhale it out to the world around us.
 

​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.

​Seven new planets were discovered orbiting around a star named Trappist-1 last week! Seven! They’re about the size of earth, and we didn’t even know they existed!

Closer to home, this Amaryllis grew out of a bulb in the middle of winter in my own house. It’s not quite as remarkable as the planet thing, but considering any plant I come in contact with withers at my touch, it’s pretty amazing. (I’m like the Freeze Miser without ice).
 
And the God who created these stunning blooms, literally unfathomable when you look at the brown onion-like bulb they spring from, and our solar system packed with all those stars and planets (apparently way more than we could ever imagine) He created us, too.
 
Some days it’s easy to go around doing our thing. Rolling over, tapping our alarms, checking our phones, brushing our teeth, driving to school, work, spin class, and before we know it we’re washing up the dinner dishes, sliding on pajamas and crashing into our pillows, so engrained in our routines that we don’t notice. That we don’t notice the daffodils are poking up their heads, the people we love most have something behind their eyes, something on their minds, the song on the radio is the one we kept hearing at the beach, the scent of our soap smells like Grandma’s pies, that some time during the day God used us in some incredible way, that God created us for unbelievably phenomenal work.

​Yes, I’m still a bit amazed by this whole planet thing, and I’ve pointed out the flower on our counter to my kids about 94 times each, but I also stand in awe of the way one of my girlfriends sings like a rock star, when I can’t carry a tune, how my mom makes meals for every neighbor and friend she knows when I struggle to get dinner on the table for my own family, how another friend can walk in a room and effortlessly remake the space with her instincts for color and layouts, when I’m just hoping to get around to the dusting. I’m not saying that I wish I had those gifts, sure they’d be nice, but this is not a jealous rant, just a moment to observe how many incredibly awesome and irreplaceable people God has created. To pause. And be in awe of how He uniquely gifts each of us.
 
And as I see the beauty in each of the women I get to hang out with, it reminds me that God created me to do specific work as well. Just like He created some of you to teach a certain skill, to listen to somebody’s problem, to mediate another disagreement, to create delicious cupcakes, to make people laugh, or to block the other team from scoring. What did He create you to do?
 
Don’t go through today without noticing. 

​Without observing the beauty in each of the individuals around you.
Without realizing the potential within yourself.
What amazing skills and talents do your friends and family members possess? Compliment them. Remind them. Encourage them, in case they haven’t detected their talents for themselves, in case they’re about to give up.
 
What do you do well? What comes naturally, something you might take for granted, that the people around you marvel at? Thank God for the ability to sing, run, analyze, listen, navigate, tell jokes, be patient, think outside the box, be silly, cook, make a difference. Thank Him for making you you. Now go out and shine like a planet, bloom like a flower, and knock the socks off the world.
 
 
 

​Out of the corner of my eye I saw a yellow ball climbing a tree.
I saw it, but was listening to my daughter tell a story, so I kept my eyes trained on her. But as it ascended higher in my peripheral, I had to look again. Of course it wasn’t actually a yellow ball climbing a tree, but it was a squirrel with a golden apple clutched between its teeth scaling high branches and seemingly defying gravity.

​I recognized that apple as the slightly mushy one that had been sitting in our fruit basket yesterday, as the one I’d tossed out the window, because I’m big on composting and small on mushy apples.
 
The squirrel must have been out of his mind with joy when he saw that giant feast in the midst of the bleak frozen January ground. I imagine he’d been foraging for anything—a piece of bark, a forgotten acorn, but this apple was something he’d never even hoped for. About two thirds of the apple remained. He’d clearly already taken large, ravenous bites.
 
I started laughing. My daughter joined me at the window, and we watched the little guy for several moments, teetering from the weight of the apple, yet clearly clinging to his prize. The heaviness of the fruit threw off his balance and hindered his climb upward, but he kept at it, swerving and stepping, uncertain of what to do next. After several moments of amazing acrobatic feats he set the apple down in the crook of two branches and continued his climb without it.
 
Every move of this squirrel was hilarious. It also seemed to be speaking directly to me.

​Because if God unexpectedly drops a giant piece of juicy fruit on my path this year, I want to take a bite. I don’t want to pass it by, because it’s not part of my normal routine, because I’ve never had an apple appear on my trail before, because I was looking for something else, because it seems bigger than I can handle. I want to learn how to embrace the gifts and opportunities God sets before me, even if it means I have to alter my gait, or rearrange things to maintain balance.
 
But I also want to know when something is not from God and when God says it’s time to be done. When it’s too heavy, too burdensome, when something I take on is actually hindering living fully for Him.
 
When new things come my way, I get excited and often say, “I want to seize the day, change the world, make a difference, dream big, have bold goals, get busy, and I want to do it N-O-W!” But I also want to be conscious of allowing for down time, Sabbath. So, other days I worry about taking on too much and say, “Maybe that will be too challenging, demand too much from me or my family. Maybe we should just stay home, pop on our pj’s and watch a movie?” I live on both sides of the balance beam, so where does that leave me? I guess with a giant apple clenched between my teeth, not sure what to do next.
 
But, God knows exactly what to do.
So my prayer this year, is to check out those apples. And if I feel God has placed them on my path, then take large, hungry bites. But as I chew them, I want to ask God again, “Now what?” And if He says, ‘keep eating’ or ‘pick it up and run with it,’ then I want to do exactly that. And if it gets to a point where the apple grows burdensome and challenging, I want to ask God again. And if He says, ‘You can do all things through Me,’ or ‘Keep running the race,’ then I want to muster all of my energy and keep climbing fervently. But… if God says, ‘It’s time to put it down,” then I want to set that apple between the crook of two branches and walk away. No matter if that means that apple is now for another squirrel, or for me to come back to later, or so I can pick something else up, or for another reason altogether, great. 

​This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike, “What’s next, Papa?” –Romans 8:15
 
I think of life like walking along a balance beam, trying not to lean too far in either direction. But this doesn’t mean taking each step, methodically and measured. Yes, the end result requires balance, but the actual journey might mean sprinting full speed ahead until our sides hurt and then pushing ourselves even further, ravenously sinking our teeth into opportunities. Being feisty, scrappy and gulping down large swallows of life. But at other times it means sipping life sweetly through a straw, going for a quiet stroll, or just sitting still. It means experiencing the absolute freedom of setting down our burdens and exhaling a deep breath of relief. It means some nights making homemade pizzas with multiple toppings and dough that needs to rise all day and other nights ordering Papa Johns. At the end of a long day, both taste delicious. Both are satisfying. Both are sometimes necessary.
 
So no matter what God has in store in 2017—whether that’s picking something up or setting it down, let’s do it adventurously and expectantly.

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.
 

​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?

I’ve ridden in a limousine once. It was my grandfather-in-laws 90th birthday. The champagne cork was popped at the last three graduation parties of members of my husband’s family. See, there’s something my father-in-law taught me, and that is the importance of celebrating the big stuff.
He was behind the limo and the champagne. He was the one who didn’t just give up smoking, but wrapped up the last pack of cigarettes he ever bought, the unfinished pack that marked his decision to quit, and gave it to his dad for a birthday present. He was the one that when our first baby was born, grabbed my mother in law, hopped a plane from Cincinnati to Atlanta, a train from Hartsfield airport to the hospital and arrived within moments of her birth. My father-in-law, Rick, knew that the high points in life are rare, and deserved to not only be celebrated, but to be celebrated with flair, with a bang!

This is the time of year when the number of celebrations seems a bit overwhelming. There are graduations from everything from preschool to grad school. There seem to be countless parties, and thankfully sheet cake (man I love sheet cake, especially the corner pieces laden with frosting). Tis the season for ballet recitals, guitar recitals, art shows, baseball and softball tournaments, end of school year carnivals, festivals, and class parties. Not to mention, June is the month for weddings.

But don’t let the number of events lessen the importance of any of these events. Diplomas don’t come easily. There are countless pages of homework, flips of flash cards, problems solved, essays written and rewritten, study sessions that go into that piece of paper. Recitals are fun to watch, but they are a fleeting demonstration of the hours of rehearsing that go into the final performance. 
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My son graduated from 8th grade last night. He has spent the last nine years in his grade school with the same group of kids. During those years he’s gone from reading Jack and Annie to John Green. Moved from playing Old MacDonald on the piano to Ed Sheeran on the guitar. He’s also grown about four feet taller. So, yes, we went out to dinner, took tons of pics, and I made cheesecake, because it’s his favorite.

But there are other things we need to celebrate, too. Learning how to ride a bike, getting a driver’s license, mastering a headstand, finishing a major project—the work that went into it, the obedience to see it to completion, the satisfaction of typing “the end” or pushing send or turning it in or zooming through the neighborhood on wheels. We should take time to celebrate an acceptance of a new job, an award or scholarship, a position on a team, because it signifies an intentional “yes” to move forward to take the next step.

There are so many go to the grocery days, mow the lawn days, crank out the edits days, work an extra shift days, run one more lap days. So on the oh-my-goodness-this-is-so-exciting-days we need to celebrate.

This is the day the Lord has made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24 NKJV
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How you celebrate is truly up to you, but do it big, do it grand. Don’t just tell your family about the job offer you’d been waiting for at the breakfast table as everyone is grabbing their granola bars and dispersing for the day. It’s not braggadocios to say, “I’ve been working on this for months and I can finally play the song, got my article published, broke my record, or completed the marathon.” The people who adore you will want to congratulate you. Let them. This is a chance to revel in the ways God is faithful, in the times He helped you push through the walls, kept you keeping on.

Don’t just type an email to your sister who finished her final class for her masters program or to your girlfriend who got engaged. You don’t need to send a town car or pour the bubbly, but you do need to do something special—something that signifies how awesome it is that she was faithful and used the gifts and talents God endowed her with or that God is faithful and brought the person into her life she’s been waiting for.

Think through who achieved what and then put some thought into how to celebrate. You could treat someone to a meal or a cup of coffee. You could make a poster, decorate their front door, write congratulations with washable paint on their car windows. Do they like music? Block out their calendar and take them to a free concert in the park or grab their phone when they’re not looking and download some new tunes onto it that you’re pretty sure they’ll love (pay with your Apple account of course). Do you have a green thumb? Plant flowers in their window box. Do they love to cook? Tie a bow on a fresh pot of live basil for them to snip all summer. Did they finish a really exhausting season where they gave it their all. Make cupcakes with frosting in their team colors. Be you. Be original. Be sensitive to the person you’re celebrating (if they hate crowds, please don’t throw them a giant surprise party). But do revel in life’s milestones and accomplishments.

​God created this day. He’s the one who brought you or the person you adore this far. He gave each and every one of us skills and drive and motivation and time and resources and maybe even a few lucky breaks to get us where we are. And God created us to rejoice. So don’t do it half-heartedly. Be all in and go all out for your celebrations. There are plenty of days, but this Day, this one deserves something extra special. Rejoice in it.