Sigh. I wish I could stay at the beach forever. Day after day I gaze at the horizon, listen to the crash of waves, marvel at the magnificence and peacefulness of the sea, and can’t help but think how much the beach mirrors God’s kingdom.
Just like God’s kingdom, everyone is welcome at the beach. All walks of people come to the shore—big, small, old, young, singles, couples, families, from all places, backgrounds, and cultures. Everyone belongs. Every. Single. Person. And we’re welcome to do the things that bring us joy here. Dog lovers play fetch with their pups. Book lovers read. Music lovers play tunes. And all kinds of dogs, books, and music are accepted here simultaneously. At any given moment you might hear The Beatles, Marshmallow and Rascal Flatts drifting through the air from various speakers. You don’t earn extra points or get any strikes against you if you read history or mystery, if you have a cutie miniature poodle or a pair of regal huskies—no judging on such wonderful individual preferences at the beach. All are included.
At the beach it doesn’t matter if you run, practice yoga, tote buckets of water back and forth from the shore or play Kan Jam. It doesn’t matter if you’re as fit as Ronaldo or haven’t moved much lately. People ride bikes, play lacrosse, and go for strolls on the beach. Yes, people rest, too—take naps, soak in the sun, because moving is good for us, and so is down time. I believe God loves to witness people taking care of the bodies He gave them—jumping, splashing, playing, restoring, and renewing.
On the beach, we’re all friends. Walls of social status, education, gender, and race dissolve. Kids approach other kids pitching in to build spectacular sandcastles, because the digging goes faster with more hands. Without hesitation strangers join in soccer games—welcome additions to the roster, no tryout necessary. If someone’s Frisbee flies astray, a passer by instinctively grabs it and tosses it back. If a fisherman reels one in, folks crowd around to see what’s on the line, ooh and ahh and snap pics of the ray or baby shark, almost as if it’s their own. Everyone joins in on one fantastic celebration of sea, sky, and sand. And if you’re lucky, folks with musical inclination burst into song for all to enjoy—no admission, no tickets necessary—just music for the pure joy of it. Isn’t this what God’s kingdom is all about? Sharing, helping, loving our neighbors? Using our talents for the good and delight of others?
People are less concerned about their outward appearance at the beach—or maybe that’s just me. But there’s no fuss over jewelry or makeup or footwear. You just slide on a swimsuit, tie your hair in a knot, or pull on a cap, slather up with sunscreen and head out the door. We’re more exposed at the beach—we hide less. Tattoos usually hidden on bellies and backs are exposed for all to see—symbols and words representing what people have been through, who or what keeps them strong, how they stay inspired. Because we come to the ocean for the ocean, not to show off or prove or hide ourselves, but to marvel at God’s creation. Sure, some say they came to “get away” or “to rest” or “for the kids.” But why here? Why not at a hotel down the street from their home? Because the beach draws us like a magnet, the waves so simultaneously powerful and soothing. Folks wake early to watch the sun rise, fiery and bright reflecting on the water in vibrant pinks, yellows, and oranges. This is how God designed it from the beginning. It’s always been about Him. It’s never been about us. Yet, I know I personally spend way too much time worried about how I’ll seem or appear to others. The beach reminds me how unimportant that is—how when I focus on God’s glory, nothing else holds much weight.
Little kids get this as they sprint as fast as their tiny, chubby legs can carry them to the water, then stop dead in their tracks, amazed by it all. We’ll do this in heaven, I think. Gaze at God’s majesty in multiple ways; be drawn to Him and His splendor. I don’t think we have to wait. I think we can do it now.
We don’t have to wait for any of it. We’re doing it here and now at the beach, and in other areas of our lives—sharing, loving, laughing, embracing, enjoying, savoring, running about, joining in. The magic of the ocean tugs my heart, reels me in, challenges, and soothes me. So what if I used what I learned here in my everyday? What if I judged less, worried less, let down my guard more, did my thing without worrying about what others thought, stood in awe more in my every day life too. I think the beach is a lovely foreshadowing of what heaven will be like. But I also think God’s kingdom is here for us today—if we lighten up, loosen up, and let His love wash over our toes and splash into our souls.
So pull up a chair, a tent, or a towel. Grab some snacks and participate full on in this marvel of a day, a life, we’ve been given. Come on…the waves are waiting.
My Uncle Ray (who wasn’t really an uncle, but actually my mom’s cousin) introduced me to fishing when I was about four. He was a farmer and had a pond on his property stocked with rainbow trout. Ray treated me like the Princess of Fishing, telling me what a great job I was doing, making a point of telling my mom when I was in close earshot, “Laura could make a fine fisherwoman.” At the time I had no idea how much of the work Ray did or what a “stocked” pond even meant, I just knew that he taught me how to put a worm on a hook, cast a line, and reel in a beautiful iridescent trout I could be proud of.
A handful of years later our family went to Florida for spring break and stayed with my actual uncle, Lowell. He took us out deep-sea fishing on his boat. I got so seasick I spent most of the day lying down in the cabin, but despite my nausea a gigantic barracuda bit on “my” line. Of course my uncle, my dad, and everyone else on board had to reel the big boy in, but still somehow, it felt like mine.
With those limited experiences I am hardly a fisherwoman, but when our family heads to the beach for summer vacation we always buy crab nets, string, and chicken backs for bait from either Walmart or the local hardware store and venture out to the pier posing as the crew of the Deadliest Catch for an afternoon. It’s something my husband did when he was a kid, and he’s carried on the tradition with our four kids and me.
Some years we catch scads of blue crabs. One year we didn’t catch a single one. Some spots or nets seem to be more productive than others as they dangle from the pier. Some years one of our kids will seem to catch the mother lode while others repeatedly pull up their nets empty except for the bait, exclaiming, “I caught chicken!” We’ve had expeditions where the temperatures hovered around 100 degrees, sweat pouring down our backs and dripping from our brows. This year it was sunny, then rained so hard it sent us under a shelter, only to turn sunny again a few minutes later.
Jesus hung out with fishermen and talked about fishing all of the time. I figure if He spent His time in boats with nets, there’s probably something to learn there. My takeaway from trying to figure out how to catch fish, or crab, is that it mirrors my journey in life.
First, no matter where I’m headed, I need someone to help me—a guide who’s gone before. I would have never even known where to fish, let alone what to bring, or how to use the rods, nets, hooks, etc. if it weren’t for my Uncle Ray, Uncle Lowell, and my husband leading me to the fishing spots and coaching me on how to hold, cast, and reel. In my life, I need Jesus. I can’t start an adventure, a new endeavor, assignment, job, relationship, or experiment without Him. Jesus knows the best places for us to go, and how we should get there. He knows when we need stocked ponds, and when we’re ready for deep waters. He equips us with the tools we’ll need to face whatever lays ahead and teaches us how to use them. He gently explains the best course of action along the way, and cheers for us when we get the catch.
Second, I need to be patient. Sometimes the things I’m after, the goals I set, the roads I set out on seem to take forever to obtain, achieve, or traverse. Sometimes it feels like I’ll never get there. Maybe I won’t. Maybe, just maybe, on some things I want I’ll never get, because I’m supposed to be doing something else with someone else somewhere else. Being patient could mean standing for an hour or day or month or year without so much as a nibble on my line. It could mean sending out another application or submission, running one more lap, biting my tongue one more time, praying another prayer, going to one more audition, inviting her again, rehearsing one more time. But mainly it means trusting Jesus, that He’s in control, that He knows what’s best, that He’ll move things forward, or sideways if necessary, (and it will be like a snap of the fingers for Him) when it’s time, when we’re ready, when it makes sense for His glory and the advancement of His kingdom. Sometimes the waiting, the trying again, builds the character we need to be able to take the next step or the next.
Third, I never know how things are going to go down. Some days everything goes swimmingly (sorry, couldn’t resist). Some days I’ll question why I’m out there, standing in the pouring rain or blistering heat. Some days I’ll feel queasy and others my nets will fill effortlessly. Some days I’ll catch exactly what I’m looking for, and others my nets will pull up the most random, brilliant treasures—like when my youngest pulled up a horseshoe crab too heavy for him to lift or when I caught a hermit crab, curled up inside his shell. But every day, Jesus is up to great things, kingdom building things. He always has something to teach us. When things are rough and challenging, it reminds us to be dependent on Him and His power and His grace. That we’re not going to get through unless we lean on Him, take shelter in Him, slather Him on like sunscreen to save us from being burned. When things come easily, we’re reminded of how great our God is, that He can move mountains, or fill nets, despite the circumstances. There are people He’ll have us meet walking down the boardwalk of life that need a smile or a hug, or maybe they’ll explain something in a way we never heard before, or they’ll become our new best friend. There are times when we’ll have zero idea what Jesus is up to, but we’ll sense it’s cool, amazing— like the day this week when I hadn’t caught a crab, but I pulled up a brilliantly striped zebra fish, flapping in my net.
I don’t know what your life adventure looks like. But I do know if you let Jesus guide you, if you’re patient with His perfect timing, and if you can let go of how you think things should go, then you’ll be in for an incredible adventure.
After a night of catching no fish at all, Jesus told his disciples:
“Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it there, and they were unable to haul it in because of the great number of fish. —John 21:6
Do you know what I’d really like?
For school to be out.
For summer to be here.
To be on the beach. With my family. On a warm, breezy day. With an iced coffee. And perhaps a chocolate croissant.
You know where I am? Ohio. Where spring is having an identity crisis. Where it’s too chilly to consume any ice, especially in my morning dark roast. Where my kids are at practice. And one is at college. And we’re all trying to grind it out until summer magically appears on our calendars. I think of all the things that need to get done between now and the end of the school year—forms, assemblies, applications, schedules, field trips, celebrations, checks, envelopes, emails, and definitely a slew of soccer games.
My mind fusses over these things, and guess what God shows me—the Old Testament book of Nehemiah, which mainly revolves around a giant construction project, words I usually gloss over. But God wants me to hear it. Maybe He wants you to hear too. There’s a connection. Hang with me Fixer Upper fans. King Solomon built the most stunning temple ever—cedar and gold totally out trump shiplap. But the Babylonians destroyed the temple. Years later a guy named Nehemiah was working for the King of Babylon and asked if he could take some guys he knew and rebuild his hometown—a kind of precursor to Chip Gaines. The king agreed, so Nehemiah road tripped with some friends back to Jerusalem. There was so much work to do—the city wall, the temple, Jerusalem was a mess. They just wanted it to be finished—to snap their fingers and have everything be in place for the big reveal. But that clearly wasn’t happening. Where to start?
I feel this way, too! There’s so much to do. Everything’s a mess. I just want it all to be in place. You? Where do we start?
Nehemiah came up with a plan—you do this, you do that. And the priests? Each one was instructed to repair the section immediately across from his own house. Neh 3:28. This tampered down bickering over who would do what. It also made the construction more efficient, because you just woke up and got to work. Zero commute. This seemingly overwhelming project was completed by hand in only 52 days.
So, if Nehemiah came up with a great plan on how to delegate work, I’m pretty sure God has an even clearer understanding of what needs to get done and who should do it. Because I’m slightly dense at times, God puts the work He needs me to do right in front of me. Meaning God has put amazing, exciting, interesting things on my path today. Right before my very eyes. Yours, too.
God says, “There is so much kingdom work to do—an article to learn from, trees heavy with blossoms to marvel at, family members hastily shuffling to activities to look in the eye and tell them they are loved, neighbors to grab garbage cans or mail for, kids in a carpool or coworkers that we can truly listen to, reminding them that they matter, sandals to pull out of hibernation, cupcakes to bake and sweet frosting to lick off the spoon, an envelope for the office to draw a smiley face on, because who knows—it might make someone smile. Some days it feels like a lot.” God reassures, “But don’t worry. I have a plan. I know exactly what everyone needs to do. Let’s get going. I’ll tell you where to start.”
As I glance at what’s in front of me I see this blog I get to write, because God has blessed me with a space to speak my mind, free, and unfettered from restrictions, guidelines, or editorial direction. No one else is going to write it. God reminds me. I put these experiences, thoughts, and ideas on your specific heart. So I write what’s right in front of me.
I have an upcoming date with my husband at a delicious Italian restaurant guaranteed to have simmering garlic and fresh-baked bread. I can’t wait to let the flavors dance on my tongue, to get dressed up and go out with my lifetime boyfriend. Have fun! God insists. You always wanted a guy who truly loves you. Guess what? He’s right in front of you. Don’t be afraid to wear the red lipstick. Flirt even.
I’m involved in a wonderful Bible study with an awesome group of ladies. Each week we dive into God’s word, figure out all the ways we need more Jesus, remind each other how loved we are, and share tears, laughter, and mouth-watering muffins. We take a hiatus in the summer. I will miss them and their support. Savor it now, while it’s in front of you. God urges.
I get to cheer on my kids outdoors in the sunshine. They have solid coaches who care about their character and development. The spring soccer season is intensely condensed, but over in a flash. Why not embrace the smell of fresh-mown grass and sweet and salty Kettlecorn popping in giant vats, the energy of kids sprinting and passing balls, the excitement of the crowd. God passes me a folding chair and my water bottle.
The things God has put in front of you are probably completely different--a class to teach, an exam to pass, a trip to pack for, a marathon to run. Do those things. Do them. well. Life is good, no grand, exactly how it is, today, if we acknowledge it. There is work to do. Wonderful work. Plenty. Right in front of me. Right in front of you. Right where God put it. Right where God put us. Why would we desire or crave or covet anything else?
I don’t need to wish away the school year, or pine for summer. I don’t have to worry about when or if I’ll get the next writing project. I don’t have to hope for a cleaning fairy to sweep through my house, or question how long until it hits eighty degrees. God calls us to embrace exactly what’s in front of us today. Because guess who put it there? And guess who equipped us to handle it?
What is in front of you?
Who are the people in your dorm, apartment, home, class, workshop? What can you learn from them? What are the questions you want to ask? Events you want to attend? Take one step forward, to what’s right in front of you, and get going. You’ll be amazed how God will use you, and how gratifying it will be. That’s truly what the big reveal is. Not how beautiful the finished project is, but how stunning the work in progress can be.
..if you’d like more reminders about how much God loves you throughout the week, follow me on:
I positively love the beautiful little college town we live in. But this summer it has been attacked by the construction army. I cannot turn right out of or park in my neighborhood. One of the three main roads going through our small town has been closed all summer, and the route leading south out of town to where all of our soccer practices take place has been limited to one lane since June.
The crews are frantically trying to finish up. The college students and their parents will arrive in two weeks, and unless roads are open and running they won’t know which way to go.
For me, it’s been slightly inconvenient, but not a huge deal. I’ve had to plan my trips. How to get from here to there? is the question I keep asking myself. And since I’ve lived in Oxford for sixteen years I do know where to go. I know I can go a mile north out of my way, cruise parallel to the road I want to take, head back south a mile and end up on my normal route. I know that even though it’s near impossible to get to one of the houses we carpool with for soccer, there is a parking lot both families can get to as a meeting point. I know this, not because I’m a good driver. I’m not. Not because I have a good sense of direction. I might have the worst. I know this, because I’ve spent enough time here to know my town.
My life is undergoing a little bit of construction too.
How about yours?
My oldest daughter is going off to college. My oldest son is learning to drive. Both of which create all kinds of letting go, releasing, and reacclimating. There’s also some roadwork within our extended family—health issues, relationship problems. We all go through changes, some of them more painful than others. My issues are minor—a lane closure, no edge lines. I’m sure many of you have the same or much worse—barricaded sections of your life, some roads permanently altered, some bridges torn down. I’m sorry times are difficult. Please know I’m praying for you.
So how do we get around when our normal routes are shut down? When we have to change the way we do things or get places? When the roads of life are harder or impossible to travel? Not by ourselves. Because frankly, I’m not wise enough to have all the answers, strong enough to walk through all the hard stuff, or patient enough to get from A to B by myself. But with Jesus, I can do all that. And so can you.
By knowing Jesus so well that even when we have no idea where to turn, we can trust Him to show us which way to go. By knowing how much He loves us and cares for us and walks with us that we know we’re never alone. By knowing how strong and capable He is, how He can literally move mountains or anything else in our life that needs moved. By knowing Jesus is for us, fighting for us, that He wants us to come out safe and sound.
The more I read the Bible, the better I understand what Jesus is capable of, how immense He is, and how much grace He extends. The more time I spend talking with Him, the more I feel the power of His love, the guidance of His hand, the reassurance of His presence. And then all of a sudden, maneuvering through life construction is more manageable.
The construction in Oxford will be winding down soon. Over the next two weeks cones, barricades, and strong workers in orange vests will disappear. The locals will sigh in relief. The students and their families will marvel at the pretty brick streets, the freshly painted lines, and the lovely planters lining the roads. And for a while, driving around here will feel simple. But next summer there will be new projects to make sure our town remains picturesque. I’ll be ready. Because by then, I’ll have had yet another year to learn my way around this place.
And in my life and yours, some things will work themselves out, others will go away. But some will flare up and expand. There will be new bumps and trials we’ll go through and experience. And the better we know Jesus, the better we’ll be able to navigate through all of them.
There are several things I'm good at. Others, not so much. I'm pretty good at baking chocolate chip cookies, giving hugs, and telling stories. I'm not that great at knowing how far things are away from me. Thus my current state—concussed. Let's just say it was a klutzy dingdong moment. My friend, Beth, advised I tell everyone it happened in my summer rugby league. I’ll leave it up to your imagination.
But as I sit in my darkened room with an imaginary hand pressing into my forehead, the energy level of a sloth, and the sensitivity to daylight of a vampire I’ve learned a thing or two,
Having a concussion forces you to stop doing everything. I didn’t ask for this Sabbath. But I got it. I was incapable of doing the things I usually did—running laps around the neighborhood, running to the grocery, running one of the kids to the soccer fields, running the dishwasher. Do we see a common theme here? But with a concussion, there was no running. Only rest. I was helpless.
I like to make sure everything is right for everyone in my family.
“Do you have your cleats?”
“Here’s your signed form.”
“Are you hungry? There’s some yogurt in the fridge.”
“Can I help you carry that out?”
These are phrases I love to say, because I love the people in my house so fiercely. I long for their days to run smoothly, for them to be fed and get where they need to be and stay safe and have smiles on their faces. I’m good at giving love. Not so good at accepting it.
But my doing was halted. Even the things I thought I’d do if I had four days in bed like reading or watching movies were taboo. I kept offering to drive, kept mumbling I was all right, kept sneaking in a load of laundry, because I wanted to be the one loving on them. But honestly, I felt weird—out of it. I’d conk out cold in the middle of the day. I wanted to be 100%, but I knew I wasn’t. I had a lot of time to think. And to pray. And when I finally accepted the fact that I was helpless, a beautiful thing happened. I had to stop running, and accept the love my family showered on me.
My kids loved on me in the sweetest ways—from building me a cozy fort complete with blankets and stuffed animals to making me meals and snacks complete with room service. It was like staying at the Ritz. My husband took over all my tasks—making breakfast, driving my shifts to practices, picking up things at the grocery, preparing dinner, and a thousand more details, while miraculously still working his job. Plus everyone kept checking on me, clearing my dishes, turning off lights so it wasn’t too bright for me, asking if I was okay. It was sweet and beautiful. The love my family gave me overwhelmed me and filled me. Letting others love me turns out to be a lovely thing.
When it’s so wonderful, why do I struggle to allow others to actively love and care for me? I’m equally poor at accepting God’s great love and care. How about you? Do you allow others to love you? Or do you try to be stronger, brush off help, attempt to do all the things on your own?
I know God loves me. I know intellectually that His love is free for the taking, that He wants to lead me, guide me, hold me. But I don't let it overflow over me enough. I'm so busy trying to get everything done trying to get everything done right, and trying to do everything for Him. I don't pause enough and let God just plain love me. Let Jesus just hold me. Let the Spirit remind me how much I am loved. When I do pause, His Love covers me like a soft blanket, tastes as sweet as the bowl full of chocolate chips my daughter brought me and makes me feel special and safe. Sigh. When I stop long enough to let God’s love sink in, it’s all I want. I want to stay there for a very long time.
I’m starting to feel more normal-ish. But if this blog is a bit jumbled, please accept my apologies, brain injury and all. Even though I’m not spot on. God’s love is. I pray as I continue to get out more, drive, perhaps even go on a walk (sounds crazy doesn’t it?) that I’ll cling to this lesson that being loved is not a sign of weakness, but a chance for sweetness. I pray the same for you. God longs to love us. God wants to make us feel better, give us rest, comfort us, renew our strength. But He won’t push His love on us. Christ wants us to come to Him. He wants us to say, “Lord, I could really use some of your love. I need You.” Find time this week to slow down long enough to truly let Him love you.
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?
Since I’ve always loved a good research paper (I’m serious. I’m that nerdy girl), the past few months have been fascinating. The work I’ve been doing has called me to learn. I’ve been immersed in studying everything from the layout of Anne Frank’s hideout, to the structure of a biography, to the ropes used on ancient ships, to the Hebrew translation of the word “fear.” I love research. I do. But the little girl who spent countless hours of her childhood hidden in the branches of willow trees transported to Narnia—that part of me—is thrilled to be dipping my toes back in the pools of fiction. Writing nonfiction is thought provoking. And I love to learn, but writing fiction is flowing and creative and unpredictable. I never know what my characters will say or where they’ll end up as they journey to the end of their tale. My mind and my soul delight in the wandering.
I am amazed that God has created so many different pieces of me—even pieces that oppose one another. How can one girl love to discover historical details and adore making things up? How can she like to cuddle under piles of blankets and sit in the sun, allowing the rays to warm her through and through? Well, because God created me to love books—all books, and warmth—however I can get it. And because life changes, because I end up in different places at different times, because I have different assignments and adventures and opportunities and obstacles and challenges and puzzles to solve, I get to tap into the ways God made me and enjoy them in every circumstance. He’s done the same with you—woven varied likes and cravings and interests into your very being. And He loves it when you tap into different parts of them, when you exercise new or dormant muscles.
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.
One of our family traditions is summer movie nights. We have four kids. We love movies. Therefore, we watch lots of movies with our kids. But sometimes the kids don’t see eye to eye on their movie pics. The boys love adventure movies. The girls could watch all of the High School Musicals and Camp Rocks over and over again. We try to guide our kids towards healthy media choices. And some movies that are appropriate for my teenagers are less appropriate for my younger kids. This equals lots of compromise.
And compromise can be great. This summer, together, we’ve watched the entire Back to the Future series, and most of the Indiana Jones movies. I even convinced our clan to watch The Little Prince with me, because j’adore Le Petit Prince!
But summer movie nights? Well, this is a coveted night when one child picks the movie they most want to see. The other kids all agree to honor the chosen child on their special night by finding something else to entertain themselves, knowing they will all get their turn. These nights are special, because my husband and I get to curl up on the couch and spend quality time with one of our priceless children. It gives that child a chance to choose, to be in charge, to see the movie they’ve been dying to see. Plus, my husband and I get four of these cozy evenings sprinkled with popcorn. #parentperks
After plowing through the entire Percy Jackson book series this year (twice), Maguire selected The Sea of Monsters, which was super fun, a little scary, plus gave a hilarious nod to Jesus when Mr. D. (a.k.a. Dionysus) while turning wine into water said, “The Christians have a guy who can do this trick backwards. Now that’s a God!” Our God is pretty cool, isn’t He? Not to mention this film is packed full of reminders of how no matter how bad things seem, in the end good does overcome evil. Time and time again. Guaranteed, folks.
Mallory chose Soul Surfer. Somehow I’d never gotten around to watching this true story of a rising teen surfing star who loses her arm in a shark attack. An entire box of Kleenex later, I am now an all-in Bethany Hamilton fan. This woman’s faith through an incredibly dark personal storm blows me away. She doesn’t let losing a limb stop her from competing in a sport where everyone else has two arms. Think you’re up against some obstacles today? Give this flick a view. Here’s how Bethany equates her life to surfing, “When you get caught in the impact zone, you need to get right back up, because you never know what's over the next wave... and if you have faith, anything is possible, anything at all.”
Max picked Concussion. And I was wary. Because I’d heard it was gruesome. I’m also not a huge fan of sports movies. And honestly, I freak out over the number of concussions soccer players get, and I have three kids who love to head ball. But Concussion is one of the best movies I’ve seen in a very long time. I recommend all of you watch it. This weekend if possible. This is the true story of Dr. Bennett Omalu, a genius Nigerian doctor (brilliantly portrayed by Will Smith), who discovers a brain disease, CTE, which affects people with repeated head injuries. Early in the film, Bennett challenges a friend “to be the best version of themselves.” See why I like this guy? Later, Omalu is challenged to adhere to his own advice. He uncovers CTE as not just a disease, but also the potentially fatal disease that has now struck at least 90 NFL players. Needless to say, taking on the NFL is like taking on Big Tobacco. Omalu is called nasty names, loses his job, and is threatened to be deported and killed all in order to “hush up” his discoveries that America’s beloved sport of football is dangerous. But Omalu won’t be silenced. He stands true to the best version of himself without faltering. Bennett’s faith is too strong to cave. The truth that the trauma of repeated blows to the head incurred by playing football is life-threatening is hard to swallow, painful, and dangerous. But again and again Dr. Omalu shares his findings, fights to have them publicized, and implores an NFL official to “tell the truth.” The real Dr. Omalu shares in an interview with Frontline about Jesus’s story of the Good Shepherd going after that one sheep. He says his work is like that, if he can save one athlete—that one sheep, it will all be worth it. I cannot stop thinking about this man and the role model he is for us to stand up for what we believe in.
We haven’t gotten to Maddie’s movie night yet, but we will. And I can’t wait to view her choice, learn from it, pop some corn, and spend some special time with her.
Our summer movie nights give our kids a small glimpse of how special they are to us. But God also uses these films to remind me how special we all are to Him, how He will fight for us, and stand by us, how He will never forsake us, and that no matter what, He will conquer evil.
How about you? What was your favorite movie this summer? Why or how did it impact you?
Just like Robert Fulghum writes that all he needed to know he learned in Kindergarten, I might argue everything I need to know I could glean from Vacation Bible School.
10. Churches don’t have to look a certain way. Ours was transformed to look like a cave for Cave Quest. And it was pretty cool. And maybe we should keep it this way.
9. Leaders should stand out. My daughter proclaimed she looked like a Cheeto and even though they were a bit bright, all the kids could find the leaders in their “leader shirts”. They knew who to ask if they had a question and who to seek if they needed help. If you are a leader of any kind, do your people know it? Is it obvious they can approach you with problems, if they’re confused, if they need guidance? What would it take (minus an orange tee) to let them know?
8. I can hope in Jesus. I can. You can. It doesn’t matter what you are currently facing—will you make the team? Will you get the job? Will you find the right guy? What next? No matter what the outcomes of your uncertainties, Jesus has plans for you, plans to give you hope and for a future Jer 29:11.
7. Cold popsicles on a hot summer day are good for you
6. I get courage from Jesus. Life is scary sometimes. There are test results looming. You’ll have interactions with people who make you feel incapable and small, and unexpected expenses when your checkbook balance is low. On our darkest days, facing tomorrow looks terrifying. But fear is never from God. Yes, when necessary He instills a sense of warning in us, so we can react accordingly. But fear? No. His perfect love casts out fear. So whatever you’re afraid of, hand it over to Him. Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Deuteronomy 31:6
5. Helping others feels good.
Through World Hope our VBS raised enough money to provide an education for Yeanoh and Samuel, two children from Sierra Leone who have dreams, but can’t afford the education to launch them. To make it interesting there was a contest held to see who could raise more money—the boys or the girls (complete with a pie in the face for the loser). Each night a huge production was made of counting the donations to see who was winning. The concept of helping kids in another part of the world became a thrill. Our kids helped provide these kids with an education, but also learned about a new culture, felt like they’d made new friends, and most importantly discovered they can make a difference. And that’s how helping others feels—gratifying and satisfying.
4. Singing “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus” at the top of your lungs is liberating. It was phenomenal how boldly and proudly the kids at VBS proclaimed their decision to follow Jesus. It’s amazing when I say it out loud, “Yeah, that’s what I’ve decided, no matter where everyone else is heading, I’m following Jesus,” it lessens the stress of decision making, lowers the level of anxiety about what’s next, and just plain feels good.
3. Jesus gives me direction. Speaking of following Him, where is He leading? For all of us it’s different. Every day. Today He might be leading us to be social—to call or visit with a friend old or new. Tomorrow there might be work to be done—loads of it—clients’ questions to answer, dishes to wash, meetings to attend. The next day He might call us to rest, to recharge and renew after a crazy week. But no matter where He’s leading you today, He will always lead you in the right direction. That’s the kind of Good Shepherd He is Psalm 23.
2. Jesus gives me power. Not super powers, like x-ray vision, but He is way more powerful and necessary to me than my phone charger. He gives me strength when I’m exhausted, energy when I’m worn out, and a turbo boost to do what’s right even when it’s harder and takes longer. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength Phil 4:13. And so can you. We just need to plug in.
1. Everyone is miraculously, stunningly beautiful. AKA, you can’t judge a geode by it’s exterior. One night the kids smashed a dull stone with a hammer, revealing gorgeous crystal formations inside. Yes, geodes are packed with spectacular glimmers, but so are we. All of us. Intricate patterns and light catching features that God, our Creator, has formed inside of us.
When we take these VBS lessons and live them out in our lives, when we decide to follow Jesus, and find our hope, power, and direction from Him, then we will reflect His light like prisms—we’ll illuminate our true reflections.
How about you? Any VBS memories or life lessons learned? I'd love to hear in the comments below.
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
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
I’d love to hear…what brings you joy? How do you intend to incorporate it into your life this week?
When I’m at the beach I wear these heinous shoes all day, every day. They are the dorkiest item of apparel I own, but I wouldn’t even consider walking through the sand without them.
As soon as my feet hit the boardwalk leading from the condo to the beach, my family parts like the Red Sea, and I take off sprinting past them, sometimes with the pool bag flapping at my side, until I am ankle deep in ocean. I look ridiculous. I know I do. I look like I’m being chased by a Land Shark. People probably joke at dinner about the crazy lady they saw running by herself onto the beach, speculating about what motivated me to act like a maniac. But I do not care.
See, I’m allergic to fire ants, and not just like “achoo” or “dang I got a rash” but like” jab me with my Epipen and rush me to the hospital ASAP.” So to avoid these little buggers who live in hot, sandy places, I cover my feet and keep them in the wet sand where the ants are less likely to bite. And it is worth the ugly shoes and the strange antics to stay safe. Every single step of the way.
I’m sure there are many other things I do that seem strange or counter cultural to someone observing, but I do them for self-preservation. You probably do too. At dessert while out to eat with some girlfriends recently, one friend offered another friend a bite of her brownie. She answered, “No thanks. It looks so good, but I’d have to pay for it for a week.” She is gluten free and knows the wheat in baked goods attacks her body. The bite of rich, chocolaty brownie, although oh so yummy, just isn’t worth it for her. I have another girlfriend who needs her sleep. NEEDS IT. Like no one else I’ve ever met. She wakes up, takes her kids to school in the mornings and goes back to bed for another hour or so every school day. As a result every minute she’s awake she is more energetic, more productive, and happier. It is what she needs to be healthy and in a good place. And so no matter what everyone else does or thinks she should do, she deliberately gets her sleep.
It’s not always convenient to do the thing that’s best for you. But it’s essential to do it anyway.
The most significant thing I do each day to keep me grounded, safe, full of joy, and in the right frame of mind is to read the Bible. Most mornings I am on the fly—attempting to sneak a jog in before it’s sweltering hot, trying to get one of my kids on time to an early morning soccer game, hoping to get a bit of writing in before the rest of my family wakes up. And then there are the days when I am just sooo sleepy. But regardless of how handy or opportune, deliberately starting my day in the Word keeps me anchored to who I am.
So before I pull my covers off, I reach under my bed, pull out my Bible and my journal and see what God has in store for me for the day at hand. My morning time with my Bible:
There’s nothing like the written Word of God for showing you the way to salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. Every part of Scripture is God-breathed and useful one way or another—showing us truth, exposing our rebellion, correcting our mistakes, training us to live God’s way. Through the Word we are put together and shaped up for the tasks God has for us. 2 Timothy 3:16-17 MSG
Just like my awful pink beach shoes keep me safe from seemingly harmless insects that are life-threatening to me, beginning my day immersed in the Word of God protects me against seemingly innocent insults, rejections, comments, stresses and tensions, and reminds me I am wholly and completely loved and accepted, just as I am. And this reward is so fulfilling that I am always glad I woke up early, took the time, or waited to get started on something else. Always.
How about you? What seemingly countercultural or inconvenient things do you do to keep yourself grounded, safe, happy and shining your true reflection?
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