My mom and I were going for a walk around our neighborhood when she spied someone’s garbage can pulled to the curb with pieces of wood poking out of the lid.
“I want those!” She proclaimed.
“Well, take ‘em,” I encouraged. One man’s trash …
“I’ll use them for my tomatoes,” Mom declared, pulling out a few, straight, long stakes.
“Awesome,” I answered, because my mom loves to garden. It brings her so much joy. She literally completed our walk beaming ear-to-ear, strutting around with those sticks like a drum major leading a marching band. My mom rocks when it comes to growing just about anything. For years, she sweetly planted tomato plants in my yard, staked them, even placed little cages around them to keep the deer from snacking. And I LOVE tomatoes, love homegrown, Ohio tomatoes in the summer time. Could eat them every night with a small sprinkle of salt, preferably with some corn on the cob from the farmer’s market. But I can’t grow tomatoes. Can’t grow any kind of plant. So year after year Mom would painstakingly plant, and year after year they would die. I never harvested a single tomato.
So, explain to me how these grow in my yard? I’ve lived in this house for seventeen years. I did not buy the irises. I did not plant the irises. I never think about them unless they’re blooming. And then I stand in awe. I never fertilize the ground where they grow, water them, stake them, cage them, or ponder how much sunlight they’re getting. How do these stunning irises, drenched in purple, with crazy, gorgeous flowing shapes come up year after year and thrive in the same soil where I murder tomatoes?
I may be oversimplifying things. But truly, this is how God works, simply, not always easily, but always simply. He is always at work, doing unfathomable things, when we’re not capable, when we’re not mindful, when we’re not even aware.
Right now. Today. God is working some detail, maybe dozens of details in your life that you will be able to take zero credit for. Maybe it’s a job you didn’t even know existed that you are going to be offered in a few months, and right now God is introducing you to some people who will help you in that position, having you stumble across articles that will inform you for your interview, and having the person who currently holds that job get the promotion they’ve been hoping for, so their slot will be available for YOU! Maybe right now God has grad students working in a lab making small discoveries that when added to findings scientists in another lab are making will equal a treatment or cure for the very ailment you’re battling. Maybe God just gave someone else a whopping income tax return they weren’t expecting, and is nudging them to share the wealth, and they’ll just happen to hear about your need—the mission trip you’ve been praying about, the broken part of your house you can’t afford to fix, and voila—your need will be met.
Maybe none of the above applies. Certainly if I knew how God was working in the secret ways of your life, it wouldn’t be as cool or mysterious or phenomenal. But I do know He is working. I know, because I’ve seen Him do it again and again, over and over. I see college students apply for internships and get turned down, because the opportunity of a lifetime is about to present itself in a few days, and they would miss it all together if they’d settled for that other thing. I’ve seen people’s cancer go in remission, houses sell, relationships mend, all because of God’s grace, not because of all of their due diligence. God swept in and said, “I love you. I have something for you.” How have you seen God work behind the scenes in the past? Doesn’t that give you hope that He’ll do it again?
I’m not saying we get everything we wish for. Thankfully God knows better than we ever could what we need, thus all the cool undercover work He does. I’m also not proclaiming we should all park ourselves on the couch watching Netflix and eating ice cream all summer, trusting God will do the rest. We’re still called to do our part, to take care of our bodies, to be wise stewards of our time and our finances. To use the gifts He’s given us and to use them well, for His glory. If I never sat down and wrote, well, I wouldn’t have a blog, or articles, or books. It can’t happen unless I invest the time. But I also know none of my stories would have even been read without the way God orchestrated the details.
And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. —Romans 8:28
So do the things you know you can do. Fill out the application. Make the appointment. And then breathe easy. God loves you. He wants you to experience a full, free life. Just like you do special things for the people you love—make them a treat, send them a card, plan a graduation or birthday celebration for them—things that take some time, some planning, some effort, God is putting together the pieces for a lovely gift for you. He might still be shopping or organizing or wrapping or waiting for the mysterious Amazon delivery person to drop it on His porch, but God is at work for you. Maybe you can’t fathom how you’re going to make the thing happen that you really want to happen. Maybe you’ve lost hope over something you felt God had in store for you, but now seems to be taking forever. Maybe your struggle is intense and hard, and you can’t see a way out or up. But God can. And He knows better than we ever will how all of the pieces should shift and flip to fall perfectly into place. Maybe there’s something so beautiful in the works, sprouting from a seed underground that you’ve never even asked for, never reached for, that you don’t even suspect is growing.
Maybe I can’t grow tomatoes, but God can grow irises. And, apparently peonies.
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I’ve been through enough spring soccer seasons by now to expect two things—inclimate weather and parking challenges. So there was no surprise as I pulled into a park along with a herd of SUV’s decorated with various soccer club stickers on Sunday and parking was, well, non existent.
I dropped my daughter and her friend near their field. I was thrilled when not too far down I spied a space wide enough I could pull into, despite my pathetic parking skills. Miraculously no one was coming the other way, so I was even able to back in allowing for a chance to escape after the game. Sure, it was on a slant. But there was a line of cars parked on the same hill. Certainly they all wouldn’t have parked here if it would be an issue. You see where this is going.
Immediately my brain asked, “Should I stay? Should I try to move? But where would I go? How long would it take to get out? I’d have to maneuver through the throng of tournament traffic in hopes of finding another space, if I could even find one. It might be a twenty minute walk from the field.” So I got out, locked the car, and grabbed my umbrella. Because it was pouring.
I found my way to the sidelines. Soon the refs blew their shrill whistles. The girls ran, passed, shot. The rain pelted harder. Voices couldn’t be heard over the wind. Fans withdrew to the bubbles of their umbrellas. My mind tried to focus on the game, but was unsettled. I was going to have to get help. I would need to find a man, maybe two, to push my vehicle up that slope. What if when I stepped on the gas my car flew up the hill so fast it hit another car?
The downpour turned to hail. The wind blew over team tents, folding chairs, and I swear I saw Ms. Gulch fly by on her bike. It was surreal. Why were all these people standing outside in a storm? We all know it’s best to seek shelter in this kind of weather. Why were the girls still playing? And bless their hearts, they were playing full out. And what was I going to do about my car? I stood halted in a bad situation, feeling helpless to change or fix it. I felt frozen.
I like to be able to fix things, do things, help people. I wanted the girls to be warm. I wanted the wind to be still and the rain to stop. I wanted to be able to pull my car right out when the game was over, yes for me, but also for the girls, for the other cars around, so I wouldn’t cause a ruckus, so I wouldn’t have to ask anyone for help.
But that’s not how life works. We don’t get all the things we want. Things don’t always go our way. Sometimes we’re caught in a storm. Sometimes we can’t control part or any of our circumstances. We need help. All of us. Even when we don’t know exactly what we need or how to ask for it. And when we’re stuck, the only option is to cry out to Jesus. Because you know what I like to do? Everything. You know what I can do without Jesus. Nothing.
The game felt like it was in slow motion. Suddenly horns blew, echoing through the air. It took a minute for them to register. The players sprinted off the fields and took cover under a small picnic shelter. Shivering parents smushed under the lone tent that hadn’t been upturned by the wind.
One dad asked, “Is that your car on that steep incline?”
“Uh, yeah,” I half-laughed. “Not good. I am so going to need help.”
“Which car?” another dad asked. Someone explained to him. “We’ll get you out,” he nodded.
And just like that I had a crew of angels. It hadn’t been hard to ask. It hadn’t been worth the worry that had been needling my brain for forty-five minutes. Although I wasn’t out yet.
Thankfully, the game ended up being called due to the storm. As soon as we got the official word I spoke up, “You guys ready to give a girl a hand?” No joke, a group of men, took my key, followed me to my car, and went to work. They treated me with the care and respect they would have given their own wives. Two men I’d never seen before, who were dads from other teams, joined in. It wasn’t easy. But it was an adventure. Tires hissing and spinning. Mud flying. Car slipping. Everyone having to run out of the way. And then. It was on the road, free, safe, and clear because of nothing I’d done, except ask.
I am so grateful to all these lovely men who stepped up to help me, even though they had zero obligation to do so. They didn’t expect me to go push their cars in return. They didn’t write out IOUs for rides for their daughters or gift certificates to Soccer Village. They just helped.
You all, this is how a relationship with Jesus works. I’m a mess who can’t park a car, who parks in the stupidest spot, who stresses about it. And then I ask for help. Because there’s truly no other way. And the words come easier than I imagine. And Jesus, says, “I’ll get you out of this.” Sure, I might get a little muddy in the process. I might have to wait and trust while the car grinds and the outcome looks uncertain. But when Jesus is behind the wheel, the result is never in question. It’s always in the best hands. And suddenly, due to nothing I’ve done on my own, I’m on track again, facing front, ready to move forward. I don’t have to pay anything. There’s not anything expected of me. I am filled with gratitude.
This is my daily life. There is no other choice, but to call out to Jesus. Because without Him, I’m a helpless girl spinning my wheels and flinging mud. Will you join me? Call out to Him today. He loves you so much. And is just waiting to help you get going.
Gheesh. I’m done with winter. There is so much cold and snow and slush and gray in Ohio. My skin is so dry from the constant blowing of the heater. I want to roll down the windows in my car. I want to see a daffodil. I want to play outside. But it’s only February. And there’s a way to go until springtime blooms, or so the groundhog said. So, I have two choices:
I’m picking B. Because I live in Ohio. I love it here. I love how close my husband and I live to our moms. I love the four seasons. I love the idyllic college town we live in. I love that due to all this wintry weather my kids had last Wednesday off school for a snow day. And, this is where God put us. So clearly where God put us. Every time we consider even looking anywhere else, God presses us deeper into place. So I have no room to gripe. God is so good to put me here, even in February.
God will delight us if we look for it. Case in point, I was folding laundry, which is super glamorous, and my youngest was looking out the window. He said, “Mom, look a blue jay.” I came to the window and my breath caught. “Wow. That’s not a blue jay. That’s a bluebird. A bluebird of happiness.” I don’t know how I know bluebirds are harbingers of happiness. It’s just one of those things I know. I remember my mom saying the words, ‘bluebird of happiness,’ but not where or when or why. Yet, each time I see one, I feel happiness, somewhere deep. It’s like God reminding me, “I bring joy. I bring it everywhere. Even in a vibrant little bird.”
What is gray in your life today? Your commute? Your statistics class? The dishes piled up in your sink? A relationship? Can you spot a bluebird—a spot of happiness amidst the clouds?
Are you seeking beautiful moments or waiting for them to hit you over the head? I’m in the middle of reading Looking for Lovely by Annie F. Downs. If you haven’t read it, go Amazon Prime yourself a copy or grab it from the library—so good. And Annie is reminding me every day to look for lovely. Everywhere. So, after seeing the bluebird I went on a quest and found beauty. Even in the most unexpected places.
After too many hours bent over my laptop researching Old Testament prophets, I decided I needed to get out and clear my head. I pulled on my mittens, popped in my earbuds, and set out. One by one the tightly wound thoughts in my head began to unravel to the rhythm of my feet crunching along the snow-covered sidewalk. And then I saw this little guy. He didn’t skitter or scamper as squirrels are prone to do, but just sat there looking at me as curiously as I was looking at him. He was perfect. His little bright squirrel eyes, how intently he was holding his acorn. His speckled fur. Look at what God made!
Two days later, my husband brought me home a gorgeous bouquet of tulips. For no reason. It wasn’t Valentine’s. They looked like a big bunch of springtime, but it was their smell that made me swoon. One sniff of the pink blooms filled my nose with sunshine, fresh mown grass, and April raindrops.
Driving my son to play rehearsal he asked to listen to the soundtrack for his show. I handed him my phone and told him to find it on Spotify. From my car speakers “Come on Eileen” and “Love Shack” sang to me like high school serenades. My head bopped and I may or may not have taken my hands off the wheel to snap my fingers along with Dexy Midnight Runner’s, “Ta-lu-ry-aye” and to point to my boy in the backseat and call out, “Hurry up and bring your jukebox money!” along with the guy from the B52s.
Brown butter sauce from a vendor at Findlay Market turned my bag of boiled pasta into a rich, savory delicacy worthy of a fine Italian restaurant. The richness of morning coffee. A warm, solid hug from my daughter. A thunderstorm whose cadence was in tune with the beat of my heart. Cabin socks cozy and soft on my feet. And then yesterday? A seventy-two degree day surprise smack in the middle of February. My crocuses peeked out their purple heads to see the sun. And last night, a sky full of the brightest stars. Orion and Cassiopeia shining clearly for all to see. The partial moon in a smile shape like the glowing grin left by the Cheshire Cat. Just because God is good. Just because He loves to delight us.
Yes, there is horror in the news. Yes people I love are suffering—from disease and divorce. My hometown of Westerville, Ohio was hit with tragedy. I know you have struggles too, dark spots, storms, fears, pain. But God is good. He is so very good. And He loves us more than we’ll ever be able to grasp. Jesus died on the cross for us as the ultimate expression of that love. But God also peppers our days with beauty and flavors and songs and smiles to remind us time and time again that the sun rises each morning after darkness and spring always comes after winter.
Look around. Go on a quest for beauty. Let me know what you find. You’ll be blown away by God's love and mercy every morning once you intentionally seek it.
My daughters and I were getting ready for church the other morning. We pulled out our cute tanks and fun dresses from the backs of our closets, because Ohio had thawed and it was a lovely 75 degrees outside. But all of these adorable clothes created issues. Just like some of our choices, moods and decisions in life create unstable and undesirable scenarios.
One by one the girls and I entered each other’s rooms asking, “Does this look alright?” “How’s the back?” “Is this too fill in the blank?” All the skinny straps and racer backs are darling on mannequins and hangers, but they require special camis, bras, and sweaters to stay stylish while maintaining some dignity. My girls and I enviously eyed the three guys in our family who simply pulled shirts over their heads and shorts around their waists while eating jellybeans.
We eventually made it out the door, but this getting dressed episode had happened one too many times. For a while I’d put off the work necessary to solve the problem. We’d find wardrobe solutions for the day, but then repeat the same struggle the next time my girls and I pulled out our cute summer styles. Enough was enough. After church I logged onto Target’s website and started filling my shopping cart. It’s no fun to spend your clothing allowance on undergarments, but it is a necessary investment to enjoy all of the adorable warm-weather fashions. There are other investments we need to make in our lives too, much more important ones.
Because there are days when our lives don’t look quite right, don’t fit how they’re supposed to, make us feel uncomfortable. Some days we say too much or too little. Some days we’re grumpy and go off on the people we love most. Some days we’re tired and have a headache and withdraw and don’t do our best, because it’s hard. Some days we’re so focused on our agendas that we forget about the people around us, about what’s going on with them, what’s important to them. Some days we go along with the crowd—laugh at that joke, join in on the gossip, have one too many whatevers for our own good.
And then it’s time to say, “Enough is enough!” and get back to Jesus, because He will tell us over and over again who He made us to be, how He’s packed us with potential, how He loves us for exactly who we truly are.
But we need to be intentional and invest in getting back to where we belong. Just like my daughters and I needed to assess the causes of our wardrobe malfunctions, we need to take a look at what’s causing us to wander from our true identities. And once we figure it out—by talking to trustworthy friends, reading the Bible, praying—we need to be ready to devote our time, energy and resources into getting back on track.
Just like I had to bite the bullet and use my credit card to buy bras with assorted backs and straps, sometimes we need to take the time to write a note, or call with an apology, or sit down face to face and explain what we meant or where we’re coming from. Sometimes we need to rethink who we’re sitting with and the places and ways we’re spending our time. Do we need more sleep? Less caffeine? More exercise? Less social media? Are these the people and places that help us be the best versions of ourselves? Or when we’re there or around them are the wrong parts of our personalities showing?
When life gets off-kilter, exposing the wrong parts of us, trending too low or too high or plain inappropriate, we need to step back and assess the situation. Where do we need to adjust our straps, invest time, money, resources into getting back in line with who we are and who we’re meant to be? It always starts with Jesus. He’s who made us in the first place. He’s the one who loves us more than we can imagine. When we look at ourselves as He sees us, we see who we can be, who we want to be, and then the effort to get back to our true reflections seems as simple as clicking “Add to Cart.”
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.
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.
I am blessed by the incredible gift of a loving mother in my life, and blessed by the honor and privilege of being a mom to four fantastic kids. So this Mother’s Day, I reflect on the honor and privilege of this thing God invented called motherhood. He created moms to give us a sneak peek of His love for us. Envision a movie trailer highlighting a new film—that’s how the love of moms helps us understand the love of God.
Imagine five short scenes in the trailer, each giving us a preview of God’s love for us.
Scene One: Healing
The eye-witnessed accounts of Jesus healing the infirmed fill the pages of the New Testament. Jesus enabled the blind to see, the lame to walk, the lepers skin afflictions to clear up. And the woman who had been bleeding for 12 years? She reached out and touched the hem of Jesus’s garment and her hemorrhaging immediately stopped.
Moms give us a sneak peek at God’s healing touch by having Band-Aids on hand for a cut or a scrape, and by knowing how to kiss a boo-boo and make it feel better. Moms can wield Epi-pens and Insulin pumps like trained ninjas. And this time of year moms are doling out Claritin and Zyrtec like it’s nobody’s business. Moms heal us, just like Jesus healed people, because they love us.
Scene Two: Feeding
Jesus understood that humans get hungry, that we need food for energy and nourishment. And so He fed us.
One day He was speaking to a crowd of 5000 men (plus the women and children who came along). He knew at the end of the day that the crowd was HUN-GRY. The thing on all of their minds was when and where could they grab something to eat. And so, Jesus gathered up the few fish and pieces of bread people had with them, blessed the food, multiplied it, passed it out, and miraculously fed everyone until they were not only full, but there were baskets of leftovers.
Moms feed their crowds, too. As a mother of four I can’t count how many times a week I hear, “What’s for snack?” “What’s for dinner?” and my personal favorite, “Do we have any food?” Really?!
Moms stock the pantry with the perfect items to pack in lunches and to pull out for snacks when friends come over. They can somehow forage ingredients in a seemingly empty fridge to create a pasta or salad for dinner, to refuel and reenergize her children.
Scene Three: Listening
Jesus knew people long to be heard—that there are some days when we just want someone to listen. And so, He listened to Mary and Martha when they were grieving their brother, Lazarus. Jesus stopped what He was doing when He sensed the centurion who had an injured soldier really needed to talk. Jesus even knew a corrupt tax collector, who was just trying to catch a glimpse of him, actually needed someone to listen. So, Jesus called Zacchaeus down from his perch in a tree, and said, “Let’s go back to your house…and talk.”
Moms also know their kids want to be heard—that some days they just need someone to listen. Moms listen to what happened in the cafeteria and at practice. Moms listen to stories about the cute jeans their daughter saw at the mall and the cute girl their son saw at the game. I call my own mom several times a week, because I know she’ll listen to things that nobody else wants to hear about. Moms want to listen to all of it, because they care about us so deeply.
Scene Four: Praying
Jesus prayed for others and with others. Sometimes He went off by himself to pray alone. He prayed before meals, prayed for God’s direction, and gave praise. He even taught us how to pray by teaching us the Lord’s Prayer.
Moms mirror this love incredibly. Although there are many times when moms feel overwhelmed, inadequate, stressed and tired we pray for our kids’ happiness, health and futures, because all we want what’s best for our families.
Fifth and final scene: Love
The greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13:13
Jesus said loving is the most important. Moms, you love your kids beautifully. You save the last brownie for your kids and watch the movies they want to watch (even if it means watching Camp Rock 2 for the 19th time). You love your children if they win or lose, pass or fail. Moms long for their kids to have the best friends, the healthiest lungs and the happiest hearts.
Moms, there are no boxes to check or points to earn. You already love exquisitely.
Moms thank you for:
Healing us physically and emotionally
Feeding our tummies and our souls
Listening to us in our ups and downs
Praying for us all of the time, even when we don’t know we need prayer.
And mostly for loving us.
Because the model of love you exhibit us gives us a sneak peek at the perfect love Jesus offers.
How does your mom reflect Jesus's love? I'd love to hear. Leave a comment below.
Amy Schumer is in a rant because she was included in Glamour’s plus-size special issue and Glamour didn’t even tell her that’s what she was agreeing to.
It doesn’t make me rant, but it makes me sad, because I can’t figure out why there is even such thing as a plus-size issue.
Earlier this spring Sports Illustrated patted themself on the back for featuring a “plus-size” model on one of their three swimsuit edition covers and now Glamour brags about inspiring body positivity by segregating plus-size models into a separate issue? I like SI and Glamour, but why did all of a sudden the fashion industry decide they are good citizens for including “plus size” women in their mix? Shouldn’t beauty magazines always be promoting beauty—all kinds and shapes and sizes of beauty? When a fashion mag titles something a “plus-size issue” they are labeling this as an alternative type of beauty, as if it’s not normal beauty, but beauty that goes in a separate issue, not a regular issue. Glamour doesn’t come across as applauding bigger sizes but segregating them.
Do we classify each other’s sunset pictures on Instagram by ranking them on a scale of 1-10? No! They’re all beautiful in their own right. Can you tell me if a lily, a rose or a daffodil is more beautiful?
Every time I pass my Easter lily I swoon at its perfume. I stop and stare at the elegant trumpet-shaped blooms. If I look just past it out my kitchen window, I see the completely different buttercup-shaped daffodils decorating my yard. They don’t have the heavy aroma of lilies but the fresh, sweet scent of springtime. My point? They are both stunning. And if you added in delicate daisies or gorgeous roses to the mix, you’d still be hard-pressed to prove that one flower or even one type of flower is more beautiful than another. And these are just flowers. Imagine the diverse beauty of women!
So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. Genesis 1:27 NKJV
And so it is with God’s image-bearers, there are women He created in all shapes and sizes. So why do we jump to measure a woman’s worth, put her into neat tidy categories based on the numbers on the scale, or the measurement of her waist, or the size on the label inside her jeans.
True beauty is celebrating who we are, who God made us to be, our true reflections, not saying one of us is better or worse no matter what our size is. I know Amy Schumer is concerned because she was labeled. She has a huge fan base, so she’s also concerned about what that label will do to distort others’ body image. But what if we did away with the labels all together, and celebrated our original, beautiful selves? What if the beauty industry chimed in and celebrated the beauty of all women?
That means we will not compare ourselves with each other as if one of us were better and another worse. We have far more interesting things to do with your lives. Each of us is an original. Gal 5:26
Glamour editor, Cindi Leive, writes "many Glamour readers who wear size 14 and up tell us they don't see images celebrating their shape as often as they'd like."
So why not incorporate size 14 and up beauties right along with waif-like models and models with medium bone structures into all of your issues all of the time? Have dark-skinned and light-skinned models, tall and short models, red heads, blondes and brunettes all touting “how to dress for the heat” and sporting the “hottest colors for spring”. Dove rocks at this! Have you seen their ads touting, “We see beauty all around us.” Even some local mags, like Minneapolis/St. Paul’s shopping guide feature a broad array of beautiful women on the cover. These images make God smile, because He sees the true beauty in all of these women, and He wants us to do the same.
The beauty industry claims they are embracing a broader view. I challenge them to open their eyes a little wider—to stop pigeon holing different body types, and instead to embrace and highlight all female body types for what they are, truly, uniquely beautiful. I challenge us to let it begin with us, to embrace our own body types, and celebrate exactly how we were made by the One who Created us.
Have you seen any ads or publications that do a great job of celebrating all types of beauty? I'd love to hear about it. Share in the comments below.
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
There’s something that lures even this non-sporty girl to the NCAA tournament. In the process of 67 games there are so many beautiful stories—countless surprises, nail-biters, overtimes, upsets, and tearful moments surged by both “the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.” Monday night was the grand finale of the tournament, and for me there was not one, but five shining moments that stood out exemplifying what being the best versions of ourselves, embracing our true beauty, looks like.
1. Even though everyone was convinced they would lose, Middle Tennessee State University (a 15 seed), believed they could beat Michigan State (a 2 seed). They not only imagined the unthinkable, but MTSU went out there and played their hearts out, making their dream a reality winning 90-81. This is only the 8th time in NCAA history this kind of upset has happened. It wasn’t a fluke or a tight ending. MTSU—the underdog, the predicted loser, the presumed weaker link—outplayed the team that many, including March Madness authority, Dick Vitale, thought would win the entire tournament. As Michigan State’s coach, Izzo, said after the game, “We got beat by a team that played better than us today. There were no bad calls. Nobody missed a free throw that would have saved the day. We just kind of got beat.” I do feel badly for Michigan State, but MTSU reminded us that we all have potential, that we all have God-given talents, and we are called to use them to the best of our abilities, even when things look bleak. MTSU exemplified hope to all of us underdogs fighting our own giants, showing us that even when the world doesn’t believe in us, God does.
Then David put his hand in his bag and took out a stone; and he slung it and struck the Philistine in his forehead, so that the stone sank into his forehead, and he fell on his face to the earth. So David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and a stone. Samuel 17:49-50 NKJV
2. Typically when we think about March Madness, we’re not thinking about the music, but Pitt’s band showed us not only how important a fight song can be, but more importantly how to live out the Golden Rule. Pitt’s band heard Weber State’s band would be unable to attend their game—Weber would be without anyone to musically cheer them on. Knowing the importance of a band and a fight song for moral support, Pitt’s band stayed in town after their own team was defeated earlier in the day to play for Weber State. Not only did they stay, but they ditched their own outfits for Weber State spirit wear, learned, and played Weber State’s fight song as enthusiastically as if it were their own. The Pitt band could have gone home. They could have been bitter about their loss. They could have shown zero interest in learning another random team’s song. But instead they exhibited how beautiful it is to love your neighbor as yourself. This class act was a reminder to all of us to do unto others, and that is beautiful music to everyone’s ears.
And Jesus answered them, “Whoever has two tunics is to share with him who has none, and whoever has food is to do likewise.” Luke 3:11
3. Another example of being the best versions of ourselves, living to the full potential of our true beauty was given to us by a young man named Angel. After winning the game against Wichita State, scoring a career high of 28 points, and advancing his team to the Sweet 16, Angel Rodrigues, the University of Miami’s point guard was asked by a CBS reporter what he thought about the praise his coach gave him. Angel responded, “Well first, let me give all the praise to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.”
Here is his big chance to take a bow, to pat himself on the back, to revel in the glow of stardom, but Angel humbly points the spotlight back to Jesus. What a beautiful example to sports fans everywhere. What if we all did that? What if every time we got a compliment, achieved a goal, conquered a problem, or overcame a struggle we first, before anything else, publicly gave all the praise to Jesus? What a beautiful reminder of where our identities, our true reflections come from. No wonder his name is Angel.
And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:17
4. When the Virginia Cavaliers (a one seed) lost to the Syracuse Orangemen (a ten seed), you might have predicted something ugly might ensue from the UVA side of the bench, but instead, their coach, Tony Bennett, exhibited the truest beauty. As Bennett watched the 16 point lead his team had established disappear, he never yelled. Not once. He knew his boys were playing hard, doing their best. After the game the press wanted to interview the coach of the losing team who many (*cough* including me) had slated to win the tournament. When asked what he would say to his team, Bennett, replied he had an old church song ringing in his ears, “’Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.’” He continued, “There will be some weeping and some pain for some nights because of this, but absolutely, joy will come in the morning for these guys, “ Bennett said. “For what they’ve established for our program, where they’ve taken us—what they’ve done for me – joy is coming. My guys are disappointed tonight, but they’ll look back and see what they accomplished, that what they did was amazing.”Did I mention this game took place on Easter? What a beautiful message to remind us all that even though basketball is pretty addicting in the spring, something even more important is taking place. That just as things looked bleak and dark for the world on the original Good Friday, God was at work, there would be joy in the morning. For all of us. That no matter what we’re going through right now, today, you and I, Jesus loves us. He’s cheering for us. And that message of amazing grace is the most beautiful thing I know.
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5 NKJV
5. Only in the Big Dance could a tango between two brothers create such a beautiful finale to the NCAA tournament. In the championship game, Nate Britt from UNC played against his adopted brother, Kris Jenkins, who by the way made the winning shot for Villanova to win it all. Nate and Kris met playing AAU ball together as youngsters, but due to extreme challenges in Kris Jenkins’ family, the Britts not only took him under their wings, into their homes, but legally adopted him. Kris says about the Britts, “They accepted me for who I was and elevated me as a person and made me better. It's something that I'm always thankful for. I thank God for it every day." In the past few days the Britts traveled back and forth from Philadelphia, to Louisville to Houston in order to see both of their sons play. And the brothers? Both of them were there to cheer the other one on in their final four wins prior to their match up Monday night. Kris Jenkins experienced family trauma (separation of parents, death of a sibling), struggled academically, and ten years ago was placed in a family that was not his own. His story could have been one of desolation and defeat. But a family who loved him as if he were their own, the nurturing of the Britt parents and of his brother, Nate, strengthened, enabled and inspired Kris to go to college, play the game he loves and make the shot that was heard around the world.
“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this.” John 15:12-13
How about you? Did you notice anyone exuding true beauty during the tournament? I’d love to hear your highlights. Leave them in the comments below.
Laura L. Smith