a sacred gift

ode to Christmas
the stores start stocking sometime in late August
we might even see Santa as early as July
but really it's December
that I feel ready to bring it all home
but then I find the month passes too quickly
with every day full on the calendar
shopping, parties, candy, mid-term finals
it's all a swirl
and soon the day is here
i have hardly paused to contemplate
the true meaning of it all
but Santa smiles over and over again
as innocent children sit a bit scared on his lap
and we all instagram our photos for friends to see
but who can remember what it is really about anyway
frosting on cookies
plans to travel or host
December is the busiest month of all
just look at my iCalendar and you will see
though yours might be busier
I didn't get invited to many parties this year
but that's ok
nor did we get a Christmas photo sent out
that's ok too
maybe next year
maybe we will remember to take it in August
but this year, December came fast
and now it's nearly Christmas
and then all the wrapping paper that was carefully taped
will be a big pile of trash
children will be well fed
well supplied in all their wants
and parents will lean back and long for rest
as their children run all around trying out their new toys
but somewhere someone
will sit in the quiet
perhaps it's you
perhaps it's me
perhaps it's someone who once knew the noise
but this year it's quiet
lonely
different
not quite what they had planned
sometimes life brings surprises
and yet,
that is what the first "Christmas" was...
a surprise
not expected
the world was going on as usual
and a young naive mother
was welcoming a little baby into the world
she did not have a midwife
only a first-time father to watch the event
as the first cries filled the stable
and a relieved mother held her baby
were the animals aware of this unusual event?
or did they go on as usual
while the mother and father marveled
such a normal common event--giving birth to a baby
yet knowing this baby was not "normal"
but a gift from the Divine
beholding this gift in awe
pausing for a moment to embrace
something so "normal"
yet so extraordinary and full of hope
As I sit in a quiet moment with my coffee
I attempt to imagine myself in that story
Wanting to embrace somehow the mystery
of that first Christmas day
When the gift was truly special
something that we truly needed
something that held hope and expectancy
something sacred
I pause
and for a moment I am reminded
that though my children will receive gifts
I somehow want to behold
that first sacred gift
to be in awe
to see
to savor
yes,
Jesus
a gift for us all
and yes,
I know
that I need this gift

does grace expire?

does grace have an expiration date?
as in "a few days should do it for you" and then...let's move on now
do you ever feel like it's ok to have a day or two to struggle
and then day 3 you should be ok
do you ever find yourself shaking your head at yourself
what's your problem?
still struggling with that?
why can't you just get over it by now?
and you find yourself
discouraged
down
anxious
weary
alone
because if you can't allow yourself grace
then surely others can't allow you grace
and so you can't let them know you are still struggling
alone.
but does grace really have an expiration date?
a certain amount of time that you are allowed to struggle?
does grief have an expiration date?
a certain allotment of time that you are allowed to grieve the loss of a child
or a parent
or a friend?
grief comes in waves...
some days grief is intense
some days it feels manageable
some days you find yourself feeling ok
and then grief hits again
but isn't the same true for our struggles in life?
isn't grace a daily need?
can we allow ourselves grace
EVERY
DAY
day after day
moment after moment
and as we taste grace
we may be surprised to find that our struggles begin to pale
just the weight of feeling like there is no grace left
is a weight that feels unbearable
that leaves us feeling condemned
condemned that we "still struggle"
but when we are met with grace
again and again
our hearts are changed
we are changed
we begin to taste and see
how good God is
how good love is
how loved we are
how loved I am
does grace ever expire?
does it ever run out
does it ever come to an end
or is it us that withholds grace from ourselves
is it us that stops believing there's enough grace
even for me
even today
even when I find myself still struggling
"my grace is sufficient for you...
my power is made perfect in your weakness"
what would happen if we allowed grace to meet us each day
day after day
moment after moment
would we sense a lightness in the struggle
a light in the darkness
a presence in the valley
knowing we are not ever meant to go alone
not ever meant to carry it from here
grace
grace
grace
it's still here for you
today
grace

anxious and free

Having anxiety has often been something that carries a lot of shame with it.  When I first experienced panic attacks and sleepless nights that left me feeling at the bottom, I was desperate for help.  My doctor put me on antidepressants and I began to stabilize.  But in the Christian world antidepressants are not looked upon fondly.  We were headed overseas to do mission work, and I carried with me a mark of shame...something that was hard to speak about.  I didn't tell many, but because I was desperate to be known and loved, I did let one of my leaders know.  The response confirmed my fear...that to be on antidepressants showed I lacked faith.  As I would meet with this woman I would feel the need to discuss whether I was still taking the medicine, and whether I was doing everything to get off...translation: Was I praying, reading the Psalms, praising God?... and so forth.  She once said "just praise God!"  Her response left me feeling like I was lacking faith, and not doing enough.    Because to be a Christian means to not be anxious.  To have anxiety means I am sinning...I am not trusting.  I am not believing.
"Lord, help me in my unbelief..."
It was hard to be newly diagnosed with anxiety, and to have fallen to such a dark place that I would actually consider antidepressants.  I had struggled with depression for several years prior to my anxiety diagnosis, but when a doctor suggested antidepressants and gave me a sample I immediately threw them away and decided to start running and do anything I could to avoid taking medication.  I was NOT ok with taking antidepressants.  They carried a strong stigma within me, and I refused to think they might help me.  I was able to deal with the depression through running and other self-care practices, but when the panic attacks and insomnia hit in 2004, I hit such a low desperate place that I felt I had nothing to turn to but medicine.  I was so desperate for help that I said yes to the very drugs I had turned my nose up at a few years prior.
And now we were missionaries on the field.  I had a few friends who I was able to talk about it with, but very few.  As a result, it felt like a shameful thing.  If I had not had one friend in particular who had been so open with me about using medicine for her anxiety, I would have felt completely alone.  I will always be thankful that there was one person in my life who shared her story with no hint of shame. She was just matter of fact "I need them.  They help me." and this freed me to think that maybe it was ok for me, too.
But honestly I never stopped hoping that I would get off of medicine.  That I would either be healed of anxiety, or that I would overcome it, or find ways to cope with it otherwise.  And did I pray?  YES.   Because even with the meds, I still struggled.  The meds helped me get my feet back under me, but they did not take away the internal struggle of "I have anxiety".  The anxiety was less intense, and I was able to sleep...but my biggest struggle was my anxiety about having anxiety!!!
Fast forward to 13 years later.  I have sat in probably ten different counselor offices over the last 13 years, I have had healing prayers prayed over me, I have talked to Christians who would lead me through prayers of forgiveness, I have cried out to God for healing, I have welcomed Jesus into my heart countless times, and at the end of the day...I still do not feel able or free to stop taking medication.  In conclusion, I still have anxiety.  But am I sinning?  Do I lack faith?  Am I missing something?
Anxiety has driven me closer to God than anything else in my life.  I have found myself leaning on God for strength in a way that if I did not struggle I would not need to.  Without anxiety I think I would feel "able" and self-sufficient.  I would praise God because everything in my life is going just fine.  But anxiety keeps me humble, and very near to God.  Without God I could not get up out of bed after a sleepless night.  Just a few days ago the thought entered my head "if I didn't have God I would surely be an alcoholic to numb all this pain."  On my low days I can only call out to God, and to friends who hold me in loving prayer.  Does this make me unbelieving?  Does this mean I don't trust God enough?
As I sit with these questions...these very common questions in the Christian world, I am able to sense this is not how God views me.  I believe as I look up to his face I am met with such deep love.  His gaze towards me is love, not shame.  It is not him who is saying "you lack faith".  It is not him who says "just praise me more and you'll be healed".  Because he knows how open and desperate my heart has turned towards him.  He sees my suffering and knows that I have continued to look to him.  He sees my heart.
I still long for healing.  To be free of anxiety and insomnia.  To never have another panic filled sleepless night.  OH!  That would be amazing.  But as I sat with God this morning I could sense his delight in me.  And how he is using my struggle with anxiety to form a strong woman who has a story to share.  A story that says "you don't need to be ashamed of your struggle."  He is inviting me towards freedom EVEN WITH anxiety.  He is helping me see that healing from anxiety is not what equals freedom at the deep level.  I can live my life with anxiety and be free!  It is my scar, but it is not who I am.  I am his beloved daughter.  That is my story, my inheritance.  There is nothing greater than to know we are fully loved even when we are fully known in our broken places.  That is freedom!!!!

who you are

Who you are
  is not defined by your good days
or your bad days
  your highs
or your lows

Who you are
  is not equal to your clothes size
or your chest size
  or your shoe size
or your pocket size

Who you are
  is not your age
or your youthfulness
  or your grey hairs
or your wrinkles

Who you are
  is not your thigh gap
or lack of
or your tightness
or your softness

Who you are
  is not your job
or your status
  your success
or your failure

Who you are
  is not how much money you make
or how much you owe
  or how much you have
or don't have

Who you are
  is not how funny you are
or how popular you are
  or how liked you are
or how able you are

Who are you?
If all these things are stripped away
What is left?
What we define ourselves with
changes from day to day
depending on whether we have it together
or we are falling apart
whether we wore the right clothes
said the right thing
did the job well

But this keeps us in performance mode
Meanwhile our true self wonders
Would they like me if they knew the real me?
Would they turn away if they knew my weaknesses?
If they saw me on my off days...
Would I still be ok?

Oh.Shame.
We hide behind the appearances
  and the performances
We pretend (and believe) we are ok
We are ok because we have it all together

But there is fear
When things might be exposed
When our stories might be learned
When the dark places come out
When we fail to hide the ugly places

There is good news
There is hope
There is another way to be defined

You are loved
You are God's beloved
When He looks at you
he does not see performance
or ability
or style
or age
or income
or success

He.sees.you.
YOU.
as you are
beloved you
His heart is full with love for you
He even dances when he thinks of you

And his love cannot be chased away
or lost
or removed
nothing.NOTHING.NOthing
can separate you from his love

To be loved
To be defined by love
is to be free
to be yourself
who you are
truly you
no shame
no pretending
no acting
just YOU
beloved
you

You do not have to do anything
to prove your worth
to earn this love
NO.
it's just there
love flowing
like a river
waiting for you to step in
and believe it's true
washing over you
stirring in you
cleansing you
baptizing you
blessing you
beloved
i am
 well pleased
 with you

can you hear his voice
can you hear the song
can you feel the embrace
can you receive this love
you do not have to change for love
love changes you

beloved
that is who you are
be.loved
You

rest

rest

letting go
and letting be
I open my hands
stretch my arms out
feel your embrace
I am loved

rest

an invitation
to come as I am
no need to impress
nothing to prove
nothing to convince
just myself

rest

my lungs fill with air
my heart slows down
I enter nature's rhythm
here in this moment
I dance with God

rest

mustard seed faith

i have had some really hard days
surrounded by some ok days
and it's hard to talk about them
because i don't want to be defined by them
but those really hard days
do define me
as i find myself walking through the
valley of the shadow of death
i feel afraid
but he says i will
not.be.afraid
for he
is
with
me

some people have told me that my anxiety
means that i lack faith
not directly
but in their responses of what i should do
pray more
praise God more
read the psalms
think positive
stop.worrying
worry is sin
stop

i get it
i understand
and i have worried more as a result

LORD, HELP ME
in my unbelief

i lack faith
my faith is small
it's not enough
"she who has faith the size of a mustard seed..."
a mustard seed?
recently i held a mustard seed in my hand
it
was
small
so small that it fell out of my hand
and i could not find it again
mustard seed faith
so all i need is faith the size of a
mustard seed?
the size of the dot at the end of this line   .
mustard
seed
faith

so do i have anxiety
because my faith
is less than a mustard seed?

on my good days
i feel like life is ok
i can do this thing called life
it's not so hard
"thank you God!"
and i live my life
but on my bad days
i wake up with the heaviness
and i spend each moment of my day
in a battle
between fear
despair
and prayer
"help!"
i lean in desperately
i talk to God
all.day.long.

God
take this cup
from me
But, not my will
but yours
be
done

when Jesus said these words
did he not tremble?
was he not afraid?
did he not feel
anxious

but he knew
he
could
trust
the one who was leading him
through the valley of the shadow of death
of death itself

and so i know
anxiety and depression
are not the end of my story
they are marks along the way
scars on my soul
my mind
my heart
but they continue to remind me
that I am not meant to do life alone
but to lean into the one
who knows
that perfect love
casts out fear
perfect love
has the last say
perfect love
is
greater
than
my
fear

i continue to run to his arms
and receive comfort
i continue to say "yes Lord
i
need
you

i cannot do this without you
i am not
self
sufficient
i
am
weak
weary
afraid

but
you are
love
light
here

i
run
to.you.

and every time
you
soothe me
the way a mother
comforts
her distressed child
my
soul
finds
rest
in,God.alone

love
is greater
than my fear

mustard seed faith .

that's all i need
you
are
all
i
need

soul beauty (it's not for sale)

beauty.
who defines it?
who has it?

mirror mirror on the wall-
who is fairest of them all?

is beauty skin deep? or is it soul deep?

our culture cannot market soul beauty.  so it focuses on skin beauty.  hair beauty.  fashion beauty. house beauty. children beauty. anything that will cost us money.
new clothes, new car, makeup, hair products, plastic surgery, supplements, exercise, fashionable clothes to exercise in...
there's no end
and there will always be someone fairer than you to keep you enslaved to the pursuit of beauty
until you decide that beauty is
something deeper
something more precious
something money cannot buy
soul beauty

soul beauty cannot be captured by a camera
it cannot be seen by the naked eye
it cannot be capitalized on
it cannot be bought
it cannot be sold

it does not cost money
it costs your entire life
you must let go of the pursuit of outer beauty
let go of seeking to be what others value
release cultural notions of beauty
and allow yourself to step aside
to listen to the one who created you
hear the voice of love speaking into your soul
telling you, whispering to you

"child, woman, man...
you are the fairest of them all
I love you
you are mine
beloved
there is treasure in your jar of clay
listen to my voice
know your true value
let me put my hands on you
shape you
heal your wounds
touch your soul
let me 
love you
hold you
have you...
keep your money in the bank
just give me your soul
and you will know beauty that is eternal
that never fades
will shine like the stars in the heavens
beloved, you are mine
which beauty will you choose?"

the storm

do you find yourself watching the news and feeling fear rise higher than the sea level of your soul? do you find yourself holding your breath wondering what's next?

does it ever catch up with you and pin you down?

what do you do?  turn off the news? only to look around and see that there is plenty to fear right here around you?

how do we not just give into the fear? how do we not just manage the fear by numbing it...turning on the latest sitcom, scroll Facebook, eat more...

is our only hope that we can just ignore the cries of the suffering in our world?  how do we know where to begin when suffering is everywhere.  and the news is like a zoom in lens...searching for the suffering to blare into your living room and heart

and soon our hearts either burst or become numb.  what can I do?  it's too much.  too much for me to know what to do

I find myself angry...pointing fingers at the president.  pointing fingers at "them", maybe even shaking my fists at God.  if only "they" would stop our world would be better.  we want to blame someone, anyone, for the suffering.

but are we left with nothing to do except make a sign and protest?  is that all there is?  we are told that we need to get off our lazy rears and get out there.  shake our fists at the oppressors.  change the world.

fear.  fear.  fear.
it's everywhere.
fear.  fear.  fear.
here, there, everywhere
even our answers are marked by fear

caught in the whirlwind of fear I react.  I cannot see straight.  I see the problem.  I see the haters, the oppressors, and I want them to be gone.  I want justice.  and all I can see is the urgency of fixing the problem.  act now.

but in the middle of the hurricane is the eye of the storm.  literally the place where it is calm.  the storm rages all around, but in the center there is peace.
stillness.

when we are caught in the storm we become a part of the storm.  even our best intentions, they can be full of confusion.  when we react to the storm, we create our own storms.  when fear becomes anger and rage and hatred...we are allowing our hearts to become a new storm

a storm does not end another one

there is another way.  step outside of the storm, or find yourself in the middle.  when we know our center, and our hearts remember what is true...we have something to offer.  when we have a hold on true north, the way forward, we have something true to offer.  we will not create a new storm.  we will offer a way forward, a way that is marked by peace, by love

but it looks slow.  it may feel slow.  it may not even be noticeable.  everyone stirred up by the pain, the suffering, the rage, the brokenness...

but he speaks "peace, be still" to the storm.  and we must step aside and hear this voice so that we can be this voice in our world

taste the peace, know the peace, and you will be the peace, you will have the peace to offer

but when you become the storm, you will create another storm...

Jesus, divine love,
we find ourselves in the middle of a storm.
all we see
all we feel
is the rage of the storm
and one storm seems followed by another
sometimes there is hardly a breath or pause between
what can we do?
how can we keep going?
is it ok to step aside and rest?
to hear that you are with us?
will this be enough?
will I have anything to offer others...
We cry out, Lord, help us!
It's too much
help us to not run away
help us to not give up
help us to not be reactive
Show us how to be your light
your peace
your love
Our world is starving
broken
hurting
suffering
But you are light
love
hope
peace
Show us the way

at water's edge

It seems like I'm in a season of invitation to surrender, let go, and trust.  To let life flow, and not resist the flow.  The opposite of flowing is resisting and not being ok with what life brings.  When I resist I fight the waves that come, I brace myself against the unknown, tensing my body, my mind and my soul against what I perceive as danger.

We live near the ocean.  My boys love to go to the beach, and there are weeks when we make it there five days out of seven.  Growing up in Oklahoma, my comfort level in the ocean is nowhere near these two boys who run out into the waves with arms outstretched.  I watch from my safe beach spot as they run head on into the crashing waves.  The days when the ocean is calm, I dare to venture in with them.  But on these evenings when the ocean waves are high (as high as their heads) I watch in wonder.  These boys get pummeled by the waves.  Sometimes the waves knock them down, sometimes they crash over their heads and yet they remain standing.  Sometimes the boys get their boogie boards and ride the waves in.  The ocean is never dull, that is for sure.  I am always amazed to sit and watch the power and beauty of water.

When we lived in Laos we observed the Mekong River.  On one side was Laos, and on the other side was Thailand.  Unlike the ocean, we really couldn't get into the river.  It was dark brown, murky waters coming from China.  While a lot of the brown was probably from the red soil beneath, I doubt that is all that the river was bringing our way.  When the monsoons came we watched the river swell to fill the large gap between Laos and Thailand's banks and the waters passed quickly by.  The Lao were afraid of the river--with good reason.  But they respected it.  We learned to respect the river as well.  I love the sight of water, but I rarely stepped into the river.  We saw many beautiful sunsets over the vast horizon of the river.  It was a place of beauty and a reminder that we weren't just living in a big endless sprawl of a city.  The city had an end at the river's edge.

And then there are creeks.  I love creeks.  I grew up in Oklahoma where creeks were a childhood delight.  We would make our way to Colorado in the summer and the cold mountain water would become a child's invitation to play.  Taking my shoes and socks off I would dip my feet into the cold water.  But the nice thing about a creek is it is usually shallow on the edges.  And you can see the bottom.  Of course, if you venture in you better be careful or you might slip on a rock!

Water is a symbol used in many cultures and religions.  It symbolizes cleansing, renewing, baptism, life.  Babies are held in water until they enter our dry world.  Water flows through our veins.  And water is what we need to sustain our lives.  As I write this I am aware of being thirsty (where is my cup of water?!)   Water invites us to step in.  As I sit on the water's edge there is something in me that wants to step in, to feel the water, to let it cool me, refresh me, take me out beyond the dullness of my controlled life.  But often our response is hesitation and resistance.  We find excuses.  I don't want to get wet! I just washed my hair, I don't want it to get salty! I have clothes on, I forgot to wear my swimsuit.  I am afraid because the waves look scary.  Sitting here is safe (and yes, a bit boring).  But what has happened?  The children are still running in, excited to feel the waves crash into them.  I am always in awe when a big wave pushes my youngest son down.  Usually he gets back up with a smile on his face--"give me more!"--he seems to be saying!  Boring? Not at all.

But fear--it doesn't want to get up out of the place of safety.  Fear is like the dam that keeps the raging river controlled.  It resists the natural flow of water, holding it back.  But the pressure of the dam is high.  The waters press into the dam with force that requires the dam to be stronger.
But sometimes I am weary of the dam.  I need the flow of the water.  The healing flow of saying yes to what is natural.  To trust that I can let go and step in and I will be ok.  I don't have to brace myself against the flow.  Let the river flow.  Let the waves come and crash into me.  I may fall down, but I can get back up.  Is that the sound of laughter and life that I hear?  Is that the sound of letting go and saying yes?

love song

in the stillness you are there

Five years ago I sat having coffee with an older wiser friend.  I had been sharing my struggle with anxiety and expressing my longing to be free (hoping that maybe she had an answer for me).  I don't remember much of our conversation that day, but one sentence she said stood out.  I can still remember the words now, and I have reflected on them and what they meant many times since then
"Lori, your heart is noisy."
My heart is noisy?  What does that mean?  I really pondered this and wanted her to explain.  She didn't have much explanation.  And her words came from a deeper listening, a listening to God and what he was wanting to speak to me (but that I couldn't hear...because my heart was too noisy)

Be still and know that I am God

Our world is full of noise.  Everywhere we go our ears pick up conversations, children crying, parents yelling at their children, cars driving by, an ambulance, phones dinging, and then there is the subtler but VERY LOUD noise in our lives...social media, Facebook, news.  The messages that we are hearing everyday, from the time we wake up until we go to bed at night.  The thoughts that go through our heads.  Noise inside.  Noise outside.  Noise within us.  And sometimes sleep doesn't come to relieve us because the noise in our heads is so loud and we don't know how to turn it off.

We cannot escape noise.  It will always be around us.  So what does it mean to have a noisy heart?   A noisy heart is our response to the noisy world.  It tells us to be afraid, do more, be more, "you are not enough"...
a noisy heart is a heart full of fear

It took many more years for me to begin to really let go.  I don't think anyone lets go easily.  Until our hands and hearts and lives become so full and we are weary and desperate, letting go is not our go to. Instead we think "maybe I will try this, or buy this, or do this...and things will get better" only to discover we are even more tired.  It might work at first, but then we discover now we have something new to deal with.
more is not better
more is not the answer
What is?

be. still.

In 2015 I had a nervous breakdown, or whatever you want to call it.  Whatever it was...it was scary.  I had been trying to fix my son's health.  I had been working hard to figure out what was at the root of his health issues.  I was in major control mode.  Fear mode.  Noisy heart? YES!  And finally the weight of it all came crashing down on me "I can't do this anymore!!!!"  I heard myself say.  I was mad at God for not healing my son.  I was frustrated that I couldn't figure out how to heal my son.  And it was TOO heavy for me to carry.  And so I fell flat on my face, truly flattened by the weight of it all.

be. still.

When you are anxious and full of fear it is nearly impossible to be still.  I know because when anxiety was filling every extremity of my body I could barely sit still long enough to finish a meal with my family.  I would eat fast and then have to stand up and busy myself with dishes, or pacing or doing something.  I could not sit peacefully.  My whole being was revved up.  And yet I was very tired.

be. still.

So so noisy.  So so tired.  I was truly desperate.  I longed for healing, for freedom, for peace.  I had no  more resources of my own to draw from.  I called out to God in desperation.  "Help!"  It was not an instant relief.  But in the stillness, God was there.  He began to show me just how near and present he was.  And just how loved I was.

in the stillness I am there

God met me.  Slowly.  Patiently.  Lovingly.  And that was the beginning of my journey towards a quieter heart.  A heart that was desperately wanting to rest.  A heart that was so weary it felt it might break.  A heart that had holes in it, leaked out its life...  But this was only the beginning.  God is not pushy.  He will not force us to learn something we are not ready for.  He does not yell at us like an angry parent.  He just waits.  Waits for the noise to crash down, our own attempts to come to a empty halt, and then we notice...in the valley of the shadow of death...He is there.  Quietly, confidently, unfailingly...He is there.  And as we quiet down, like a child that is finally allowing his mom to comfort him...we hear something new.  It is not like the noises in our world.  It is sweet.  It is gentle.  It is kind.  It is his love song.  He is singing over you.  Singing over me...a love song.

The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save you.
He takes great delight in you. 
He quiets you with his love.  
He rejoices over you with singing.
(from Zephaniah 3:17)


be. still.
let me sing over you
your heart will be healed
fear will no longer linger
your heart will be free
rest in my arms
as I sing this song over you
my delight is in you
be. still. and. know.
beloved child of mine
rest

ode to 41

happy birthday to me.
what's so special about 41?  it's not 40, it's definitely not 21.  no...it's 21 PLUS 20 more!!

but i still get excited when it's my birthday, and i'm not letting 41 stop me from my childhood anticipation of a birthday.

so happy birthday to me, even 41! I will not pretend to be younger.  I will celebrate another year.  getting older is seen as scary.  but me, I want to embrace it.

I found my first grey hair at 20.  I pulled it out.  No! I don't want to be old.  But there it was, beckoning me, taunting me, reminding me that getting older is....ummm, natural.
so why fight what is natural?
celebrate it
celebrate me
celebrate life

here I am at 41 feeling young inside.  so much goodness has happened in my life these past few years
I have found myself.  I have shed off some of my false layers.  Like a facial to the soul.  I feel freer. Lighter. Happier.  YES! happier.  how can that be?  I'm 41 you say.  Nope, 41 is a good number.  It's my number today.

So go ahead and wonder, is she going crazy? maybe age is getting to her early.  maybe she had a little too much to drink.  You can wonder.  But I know.  I am 41, and it's ok.  I'm 41 and it's not a day too old.  Today I am soberly happy.  And I don't mind telling you, or anyone, that it's truly good to be aging.

And grey hairs?  YUP, I got WAY TOO many to pluck on this birthday.  They are sparkling in the sunlight.  Not even hidden by color.  Just there to remind me, I'm not going backwards in my age.
Nope...just forwards.

So, happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday to the one I know best.  Me.
And I am happy to be alive.  Happy to be me.  Thank you for bringing me this far.
Happy birthday Lori!

too quiet

Pete and the boys decided to linger in the Bahamas for a few days longer.  The original plan was that I would cross back with them on the weekend, after two weeks of island life.  The weather looked good for our family's crossing...and then the boys got an invitation they could not pass up.  A friend who was in the Bahamas invited them to stay and do a boys' spear fishing trip.  Instead of crossing back on our boat together, I would fly home and they would jump aboard their friends' boat.  Two dads and four boys.  No room for moms.  My friend and I flew home to have a few days to ourselves.  Sounds luxurious, right?!!  When I told a friend that I would be home alone for a few days, she responded "what I wouldn't give for that kind of time alone in my house!"  I found myself feeling the opposite.  I was actually feeling anxious about the idea of being home in our house alone for 4 days. While I am an introvert and enjoy space, it sounded like way too much space for me.  What would I do with all that time?  How would I not fall into a dark place of loneliness in that time?  What I be ok?  I said yes to the boys, because I knew it would be an opportunity they may never be presented with again...but I braced myself for the loneliness that awaited in our home.
Once I arrived home, I found the first few days to actually be a gift of time.  The first two days passed quickly as I dove into art projects and reading.  And then I got a text from Pete..."it looks like we won't be home until Sunday, the weather isn't looking good to cross on Wednesday."  Four days alone was one thing...but four more days alone?!!!  And they wouldn't be home until late on my birthday?  It was hard for me to swallow this information.  Hard to be ok with the idea of four more days of...quiet.
As I sit and write this, it's the day before they come home.  Somehow, I have been ok--even good.  I have found projects to do.  Rooms to clean.  Books to read.  Friends to spend time with (lots of girl nights!).  But the loneliness has crept in when I come to the end of a day.  I have had moments where I haven't really known what to do with myself.  Do I read now?  Do I go shopping even though I really don't need anything?  Do I clean the house?  Do I use my time for something fun?  With all this space and time I have way too much time to entertain "what should I do?" than I am comfortable with.  It feels easier to be told what to do, dictated by circumstances, needs of others, than to face the question of "now what?"
This morning I woke up with the gnawing awareness of boredom...or is that loneliness?  I felt annoyed at Ruby (our puppy) for whining and demanding attention that I wasn't in the mood to give.  I made myself coffee as I faced yet another quiet morning to myself.  I should be thankful I told myself!!!  But that is not how I was feeling.  I went upstairs to continue my major cleaning project in the boys room.  As I sat there I was very aware that something was blocked inside me.  All I had felt so far was annoyed at my needy dog who was demanding way too much emotional energy that I did not have to give her.  It started to sink in...I'm needy.  I need attention.  I...am...lonely.  As I allowed myself to say these words, tears came.  Yes, that is it!  I'm lonely.  But in that moment I knew the answer was not to rush and call someone or find a person to be with me.  I just needed to let myself acknowledge my deep loneliness.  And as I noticed this, to make it a prayer.  "God, I feel lonely."  And I could sense his response.  "I know, and it's ok."  The tears, and this silent moment was all I needed.  Somehow it freed me to be able to go downstairs and take my dogs on a walk--and to not feel so annoyed with them.  Because I am needy.  I need to know I am loved, I am known, I am not alone.  But in order to know this, I have to acknowledge what I am feeling.  It's not about making the feelings go away, or ignoring them, or minimizing them.  It's simply about making space to notice what's there.  To be honest with myself.  I think it was a relief to be able to say "I am lonely" without feeling judged or condemned or weak or "what's wrong with you?"  Just a "yes, I know, and I am here with you."  Somehow admitting how I feel makes it seem less threatening, and less of a problem to fix.  It's ok to feel lonely.  It's normal to feel lonely.
And yes, when the boys get home tomorrow evening I am going to miss the quiet. haha!

a love story

what story lines do you believe that are not true, and yet they feel true?  what do you believe about yourself that is hurting you, holding you back from freedom in your life?  what have you clung to because it feels safer to believe it than to challenge it?
anytime we put a label on someone, we are defining the title of their story. we are telling them "you are..." and these can be either positive or negative.  yet, when we label someone by a single characteristic we limit them for good or bad.  and even if we have good intentions "you are so young and beautiful" we are telling them "don't get old or ugly, because your value lies in the fact that you are so young and beautiful."  we don't mean to define people.  we don't mean to trap people by the labels we put on them (well, sometimes we do...just not always).  but when we define people by only parts of their person, we limit people.  they forget the whole of who they are.  you and I have forgotten who we are.  and we must be reminded time and again who we  really are.  the problem is, who knows who we really are?  who can remind us in our amnesia supported by a culture that loves to define us by parts of our self?
I often have been defined by adjectives like "serious, good listener, smart, wise, nice, kind, good..."  those are the positive labels that have defined my story line about myself.  but then there are the less positive labels--"anxious, fearful, worrier, dull, plain, serious..."  whether you agree with these doesn't really matter, because it's what we believe about ourself that is ultimately what defines how we live.  how we relate to others.  how we go about our lives.  so sure, you can tell me something nice to try and change my negative self-perceptions, but if I don't believe you then I will probably smile kindly and just say internally "whatever...if you only knew this about me..."  or I might say "you have to say that, you're my friend/mom/husband."
so how do we change our story-lines about ourselves?  we have to get to know who we really are.  we have to look in a mirror that shows us our true self.  the mirror that doesn't show us the masked self.  the mirror that has no cultural biases, no perception of what we should be.  just the mirror that sees the inner created person we are.  and I will add that no one will want to look in this mirror unless we know that this mirror is held by a loving Creator.  I sure don't want to look in a mirror that is out to tear me down, hurt me, shame me, point fingers at me...
but a mirror held by the One who loves me?  ok, I will dare to look in that mirror.  yes, a mirror that says "I see your belovedness when I look at you."  a mirror that says "you are loved. you are beautiful. you are enough.  you are mine."  that is the mirror of truth that will change our story-lines.  that is the mirror that challenges our labels and beliefs that hold us back, keep us down, oppress us, shame us.
I want to look in this mirror.  I want to see myself in this light.  but I cannot look in this mirror without being changed.  each time I dare to look at myself the way this mirror sees me, I will not be able to continue to believe the old story-lines that I have somehow adopted.  I will be forced to challenge those beliefs that say "I'm not quite enough.  I am too plain.  there is something wrong with me.  I can't let others know the true me..."
sometimes it feels safer to keep on believing our story-lines.  we have found safety and comfort in the voices of people who have defined us.  to challenge these story-lines feels uncomfortable.  what will I do if I start believing I am loved?  how could I go on living this life if I knew I am more than I have believed?
and so we go on living in what has become our safe cage.  forgetting how to fly.  forgetting who we are.  not knowing what lies beyond.  not daring to look at the horizon, wondering what might be inviting us to more.
but friend, i would like to encourage you to dare to glimpse into the mirror that is held by one who loves you.  one who knows you.  one who longs to sing a song over you, to you.  friend, may I help hold the mirror for you, as I, too, dare to glimpse in it for myself?
love is waiting.

itchy neck and beauty

Just show up to your life.  Stay on your mat!  Have you heard these spoken or written before?  Glennon Doyle Melton (author of Love Warriors and Carry on Warriors) talks about staying on your mat, meaning don't run away from the hard things in life.  Show up!  Well, if we're honest, it's easy to say these things on our good days.  And very hard to practice them on our hard days.  I will confess that is very true for me...
Here I am showing up today, but yesterday was the hard day.  Yesterday was the day that I retreated like a hermit crab into my shell.  Someone is passing by...retreat.  Hide.  And the darkness of my lonely shell felt miserable.  All day long I struggled with my anxious thoughts.  My triggers were high and I was feeling like a girl caught in the rip current of the ocean, forgetting which way to swim out from the rip current (the signs always tell you at the entrance of the ocean...but who can remember when they're actually caught in a scary rip current!?!)  So there I was struggling.  Too embarrassed to post anything on my anxiety support group Facebook page...that I happened to create.  Me...the one who talks about being vulnerable and real and showing up to your life.  Yes, even me.  I still struggle.  Even after paying way too much for counseling (I'm too embarrassed to say how much I have estimated paying for counseling!) I still hide on a day like yesterday. I will say that I didn't stay in bed.  I did my best to do what I have learned from all that expensive counseling despite feeling fearful, anxious, and caught in a hamster wheel of anxious thoughts.
Even though I knew that my brain was doing its addictive anxious thought patterns, I really didn't do much to divert it.  I got on the internet and researched how to eat better, what supplements I should take...all those dangerous no-nos that I have already told myself I should NOT do on an anxiety day.  But there I was...saying "no big deal, it's just a few clicks.  I won't do this for a long time like last time..." slippery slope words... (yes, denial words...)
But somewhere in the midst of my early evening I looked out the window (which we have a lot of in our house, thankfully) and noticed the beauty.  It triggered a healthy thought (oh, thank you counselor for embedding some healthy thought seeds into my brain!)...look outside, notice the beauty, distract my anxious fear brain, be thankful.  Practice gratitude!  Oh yeah, gratitude.  All day long I was thinking about all that was miserable about my life.  My itchy itchy neck from eating something the day before.  Feeling despair that my neck will always be itchy.  Thinking that maybe I can never eat again...stuck. Trapped. Despair. Fear. Anxiety.  THEN, that beautiful thought of "oh, there is still so much beauty around me! Still so much to be thankful for.  Lift your eyes up! See.  Notice!"  For a moment I breathed deeper.  I noticed.  I saw the beauty.  And as I kept making myself do this each time the fear thoughts would say "no no, be worried.  think about us.  fix your problems!" I noticed that I was able to have a little more breathing room.  To remember that this too will pass.  There is still sunshine and beauty in this world.  My fear is not the whole reality.  I do not have to stay in the darkness.  My fear is just fear.  But look, there is light, and beauty still!!!  Light is greater than darkness.  Light a small candle in a dark cave and you will notice the light.
As I lay in bed my neck was still very itchy, reminding me of something I should be very very worried about.  But I decided to turn my thoughts to beauty, and what I am thankful for.  To remind myself that this will pass.  I'm going to be ok.  And God is still with me.  And I felt a flicker of...hope, and maybe even joy (these are not familiar feelings...I'm still learning what they feel like!)  And I fell asleep...

can I rest yet?

we long for rest, yet actually resting takes a conscious decision to cease working.  and this is where we seem to have trouble.  until illness strikes.  until the job is finished.  until something interrupts us and forces us to stop.  we go around complaining that we are tired, bored, and never have enough hours in the day.  are we victims to our lives?  do we have no control over the busy lifestyles we maintain?  are we driven by others? bosses? friends? work? who is driving all the busyness?  Why is rest so hard for us to allow ourselves? 

Today I was talking to someone telling me that her weekend was busy.  She was tired.  I thought, wow, it sounds like she needs another weekend to recover from her weekend.  And I know you have heard this before "my vacation was full! I need another vacation to recover from my vacation!"  We don't seem to know how to rest.  Is rest a lost art?  What are we waiting for?  (permission to rest?! from whom?)

What are we afraid of? We finally have time to "rest" and we fill it with more stuff.  More activities.  Are we afraid of the quiet? Afraid of the stillness?  Afraid of being alone with ourselves?

And yet we are tried.  Driven by fear of deadlines, places to go, things to do, and we don't want others to think we are lazy.  

driven

weary

chaos

busy

noise

restless

bored

...burned out

"Come to me all who are weary and I will give you rest."

Hungry

tired

thirsty

weary

I want rest!

I am coming.

Dropping the work.

Stepping out of the "ought to's"

Ignoring the fear

I come

Embraced by love

Held

Comforted

I breathe

You are here

I am here

Embraced

Relief

My soul finds rest in God alone

Restored

Rested

Ready to go

Knowing who I am

There is a flow of 

creative energy

defined by rest and love

May I live in your rest

Letting the rivers of love

flow into me

And through me

I will mount up with wings like eagles

I will run and not grow weary

I will walk and not grow faint

My rest is found in you, O God

And my work flows from this rest

Stuck prayer

Sometimes I get stuck.  Stuck in the mud of anxiety in my brain.  Thoughts take me down paths, and then I find myself trying to figure out how I am going to solve/fix something that has no answers.  And it gets me spinning off into unhealthy places of fear.  Because I can NOT fix the problem no matter how hard my brain tries to solve it.  Exhaustion.  Anxiety.  Fear.  UGH!!!
Yesterday I swung from what I would call "healthy" thoughts to some of these "stuck in the mud" thoughts.  And when I would wake up and realize these are "stuck in the mud" thoughts I would feel defeated.  Looking back I should have been happy that I could at least identify that these are my unhealthy thoughts.  Because that is the first step!!!
Anytime I get stuck in the mud it's usually because I'm trying to solve my problems...those problems that really have no solutions that I can find today.  And the more I think about what to do the worse shape I'm in.  And I get this glazed over withdrawn look that my husband is like "knock knock, anyone home?"  And I get annoyed because he's bothering me from all my problem solving.
Deep breath.  Sigh.
God, I surrender my stick in the mud thoughts to you.  They aren't helping me.  They are hurting me. I keep going back to the mud, but what I really want is to be free to run in the open fields of love. I want to see my hair flowing from the wind as I run free, like a little girl who has yet to be tainted by the cares of the world.  God, set me free with your truth...the truth is that these muddy thoughts are not the ones I have to fix.  I don't have to fix the mud in my life.  Bring me back over and over to your wellspring...the place where the waters flow freely.  Dip into the waters of love...love that casts out any remembrance of fear.  Until I am completely absorbed and in awe with your beauty.  Continue to stir the deep places in me...that I can respond to your love with love.  You are so good.  So beautiful.  And I want to wake up and see you.  To step out of the slumber that comes from muddy thoughts.  God you alone can save me.  You alone can rescue me.  I lift my arms to you...lift me up.  You are my Savior.  My prince of peace.

to flow or block

I woke up at 4:30 am this morning.  Not my idea of morning, but after laying in bed for nearly an hour more and realizing my brain was on and my husband's loud breathing was annoying me the more I lay there...I decided to get up.  My creative brain had turned on and thoughts were flowing.  I could choose to get up and tap in, or continue to try and turn if off which is where anxiety often has a doorway in--especially when sleep doesn't return., I have let anxiety win for too long.  But while it would seem logical to tap into the creativity, it scares me.  Where will it take me/us?  (I'm not in control.)  And so I try to contain it, stop it, push it back, resist it, press it back where it came from, give it parameters (not now...maybe later).  So to wake up and not be able to go back to sleep gives me a choice...to be annoyed, anxious (that I'm awake not sleeping) or just say yes to the creative flow that is roaring inside (it feels like a river.  Time to get out my inner tube and ride it.)
Where will this creative flow take me (us)?  Maybe no where.  Maybe somewhere.  Maybe just to the computer at 5 am.
But instead of blocking it I decided to get up.  To wake up.  To show up.  To ride it.  To embrace it.
Recently I was at a women's retreat and the lady taught us a song.  Very simple, not my favorite tune, and I felt silly singing it with hand motions and all...but the song got stuck in my head.  "I step into the flow let everything go, I open my heart, my mind and my soul..."  This silly (annoying) song greeted me at 5 am as I tossed and turned trying to go back to sleep.  (If it weren't for my husband's stopped up nose and loud breathing I might be asleep right now...)
Step into the flow, let everything go...
Yesterday I was at the grocery store and ran into a woman from church.  We don't know each other very well, but we know each other well enough to have an awkward conversation in the bacon aisle.  We both said hi and then she filled the space with words.  The more she talked, the more I felt the awkwardness of wishing I knew what to say.  Wishing I could connect in a more meaningful way. But in the end my hands hung by my sides and I made some stupid comment about bacon.  We parted, probably both relieved that our conversation had ended.  This conversation came back to me at somewhere around 4:45 am.  Why?  I think I was reminded that I didn't step into the flow.  I didn't reach out and give her a hug.  I didn't open myself up to the Spirit of God that wants to connect us to each other.  The spirit of grace, the spirit of love, the spirit of connection.  Instead I engaged from my head.  I awkwardly fumbled for words I didn't have to fill a conversation neither of us knew how to have, and yet we didn't know how to reach out and say "real connection would be nice..."
Yep, these are the kinds of things I think about when I can't sleep.  Those missed moments of opportunity to show up.  Those times when I wish I had had more courage to step out of the societal norms that say "act like this, say this, do this...because that is culturally acceptable"  All those things you want to do?  Ignore them.  They are weird.  Don't be weird.  Be normal.
What is normal? I ask.  I have lived in Southeast Asia for 1/4 of my life.  And to be fair...half of my adult life.  I'm not sure I know what is normal.  And is normal even normal?  What if I am hiding my gifts by trying to be normal?  What if I am holding back the flow of creative energy within me?
What if we all are?  I am not suggesting that I have an amazing creative flow that others don't.  I actually think we all have a creative energy within us.  This creative energy is not the same for you or me.  But because I believe we were all created by a Creator, I have this idea that creativity is within us.  Creativity is what brings new things into existence in our world.  Creativity is what makes things new again.  Creativity is what brings us spring after a long winter.  Creativity is the color, the music, the flow that keeps us moving forward in hope.  Keeps us believing that life is worth living.  That there must be more than talk about bacon.  There must be more than just getting out of bed every day to go to a job you don't like.  Or for my kids, there is more than just getting up to go to school everyday because adults want kids to have a boring life.  (That is what my kids have said to me about school...)
What if we stepped into the flow, and let everything go?  What if we stopped living the "I should be..." story lines and asked "What do I want? What do I long for?"  I tell myself I should be asleep right now...not up writing and I feel anxiety.  Fear.
I say "no, I want to let this creative flow out for once...see where it takes me..." and I am free.
To step into the flow is scary.  Where will it take me (us)?  I am not in control.  It requires putting my feet into the river.
But it might feel something like adventure too...

I will be with you

I have been thinking about today's date for more than a week now, remembering what happened two years ago in my life.  No, not a fun St. Patrick's day party!!  More sobering--I hit bottom after a slow landslide of tumbling finally found me at a place where I had no more hand holds, no more escaping the fact that fighting what was happening was useless.  I finally surrendered and faced the fact that I could not save myself from the inevitable...of letting go of what I had been trying to control.

As I watched my son's eczema go from bad to worse to awful--covering his whole body from head to toe--I could no longer pretend that all my efforts to find a solution were working.  And I had no more emotional or mental energy to continue to seek answers.  I was at the bottom of my resources, the bottom of myself.  As one counselor sat across from me a few weeks before, he blatantly said "You need to give up control."  As he said this I knew he was speaking truth, but his truth did not offer me relief.  It felt like a sharp knife going through my chest.  I had been living in a way of trying to fix my son's health, fix my own health, and try to avoid any new problems entering our lives.  We had made a big transition from life overseas to life in the states.  Moves like this are high on the stress scale, let alone any other stressors (namely my son's incurable health condition).  It was already a recipe for crazy making...but I had thought I could do it.  And try hard is what I did...and it drove me and to an unhealthy place of fear, panic, and finally a nervous breakdown.  

As I sat on the floor in my bedroom desperate for relief, I reached out to friends who loved me.  "Pray for me!!!" I texted whomever I thought would care.  I was searching for someone to fix me, to help me, to pray for me.  I was crying out for relief.  God save me!  Please, heal me.  Heal Noah!!!  Desperation.

It was in those moments that friends texted with love, assurance they were praying for me, and one friend shared verses of Scripture with me.  One verse struck me...not because it said "if you pray harder like this you will be freed..."  But because somehow it offered hope and comfort for my suffering...

Isaiah 43:2 "When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up—the flames will not consume you."

As I read these words I was reminded that He was with me, and that I could trust him to hold onto me.  He would not let the waters and trouble be the end of me.  There was nothing there about saving me from the floods all together--which I longed for.  It didn't speak of miraculous saving.  It spoke of a "being with" me.  But I wanted to be free of the suffering, to be free of the pain.  How could a "being with" be enough?!!!

But I clung to this verse as relief did not come quickly.  I went to the doctor, took meds, sought out a counselor who could help me (it took five tries!) and cried a lot.  I remember going to my son's 3rd grade mother's day tea and each child got up front to read about 10 things about their moms.  My son read "My mom loves to meditate."  I smiled, but inside I cringed.  I meditated because I longed for peace.  Each day I spent time lying on the floor in my room seeking peace.  Seeking freedom from the anxiety.  I didn't love meditation anymore than I loved anxiety.  But I was desperate.  My heart hurt as I knew I was incapable of being an active involved mom at this time.  I was barely functional. And how deep did my son have to reach to think of 10 things he loved about his mom?!!

The days and weeks and months built on top of each other and at one year I was at a much different place.  As March 17 came and went I could see the long hard road I had walked, and knew God's presence had been with me.  He had been with me through friends, through prayers, through counseling appointments, through my husband, through my children, and even in the silence.  I could see that God had been with me.  I had not drowned. I had not been burned up.  In fact, I was at a place where I could make decisions about how to live.  

And somehow a second year has gone by...and I am now standing at the two year mark.  Will St. Patrick's day always trigger an awareness of what happened two years ago?  I am not really sure...but this year I have approached this date with a sense of gratitude.  God was with me at the bottom, He never left me alone to find my way out of the suffering.  He has restored life to me.  He has brought healing into my life.  Through this dark journey I have discovered a deeper well of His love, His grace, and His "with-ness", light that is not overcome by darkness.  I have come to the bottom and discovered that He was with me through the "dark valley of the shadow of death..."  I still struggle with fears and with anxiety.  I still have bad days.  But I also am experiencing greater depths of joy and zeal for life.  I have a lightness in my heart that I didn't have before.  I find myself able to move towards "letting go" in those times of wanting to take up more control.  I feel a greater sense of openness to what life may bring.   God has helped me see that it is not about avoiding suffering, but about leaning into suffering...and thus surrender to One who loves me, and will never let go of me.  One who is with me in the suffering.

Fear not, for I am with you.

Do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you.

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10

the struggle to trust

how do I know when it's time to make a big decision that will take us in new directions?  There is an invitation to step out into the unknown, and it's scary.  Part of me wants to say yes to adventure, the unknown, to practice faith.  But the other part of me wants to stay where it is comfortable, known, stable, sure.  How can I be sure we aren't crazy to leave what is comfortable and make a big decision to change things up?  I am asking myself these questions as I find myself on the edge right now.  For nearly three years we have created a comfortable home and life in Florida.  It was not an easy transition from life overseas, but slowly we found ourselves appreciating what life has to offer us here.  We enjoy the beach, our friends, our church, our home.  Why change things up?  Why not stick around and keep enjoying these things?
What is this tug at my heart?...
As I have been on a personal journey towards wellbeing I have found myself drawn to minister to others.  To encourage others on their own journeys.  To walk alongside others who are suffering.  To share what I have experienced with others.  Can't I do that here in Florida?  Sure...but for whatever reason I am not content here.  I feel a deep wrestling in my soul that says "step out..."  And it resonates in that deep place of longing.
But where there is excitement there is also fear.  As I lay in bed last night unable to sleep I found myself telling God "I don't want to go anywhere..."  Is that a bit like Moses?  God was asking Moses to go back to help free the Israelites from their bondage.  But Moses argued with God.  "I can't speak!!"  And God responded "so I'll give you a friend to speak for you.  You will tell him what to say."  God didn't let Moses off the hook easily, because this was what Moses had been created for.  From the very beginning of his life, God had a plan for Moses.
Right now I find myself in that wrestling match with God.  I feel the excitement of the invitation, but I feel the fear of saying yes to what all it will mean.  It will not ask only part of me, it will ask for all of me.
But when God invites us to step out and move towards him, it is a good thing.  He is for us, he is for life.  We are saying yes to love, to life, to surrender, to letting go...
I want to say yes.  And yet, I am still wrestling.  But ultimately, I want to trust that God is here even in the wrestling.  He is meeting me here, and continuing to prepare me for the ultimate surrender to what he has for me/for us.  And I believe that I will say yes.  But that doesn't imply there is no struggle.  Just as childbirth is struggle which brings forth life and beauty, I think many beautiful things come from the struggle.  Is it ever easy to step into trust?  Is it ever easy to let go and surrender?  But we do it because we feel something deep within us saying "yes, I want more than the predictable controlled stable life I am living.  I want to live a life of surrender and trust.  I want to experience the deep joy and love and life that God gives..."
Lord, have mercy on me, help me in my struggle to trust.  Be patient with me until I can say yes with my whole being.  May it be so.

a taste of love

When I lived and worked in Laos I was a part of leading retreats for young Lao women who had come out of the sex industry.  One day I was discussing with the retreat committee what our theme of the upcoming retreat should be...I said how about "Love".  I had been thinking about how unloved these women whose bodies had been used for all but love must feel.  And to hear they were loved by God a few times was not enough.  Why not take some time to really share with them how loved they are, and to meditate on God's wide, deep and endless love?  Even I was aware of how I struggle to feel loved and I've been hearing this message of God's love since I was a little girl...  But when I proposed this as the theme of our next retreat one of the staff quickly responded "We've already told them they're loved by God several times.  They should know that already."  I immediately sensed that this young woman did not know how loved she was either...it was a head knowledge but not a deeply experienced reality.  Love is something we can never be told enough...and to be told really is nothing compared to actually experiencing love.  Take a look at the state of our world right now... so much fear, so much hatred, so much anger.  Where does it come from?  Does a world that feels loved act like this?  I think NOT!!!  So I'm not trying to pick on this young woman who said the topic of love was too simple, but actually when she said it I thought to myself...she needs to know how loved she is!!  It's not a rational statement spoken a few times..."God loves you." Period.  No.  That is not going to do it for me, or for you, or for anyone.  I need to taste and see love.  I need to feel love.  I need to dive into love.  I need to run away from it and find that it follows me and never gives up on me.  I need to feel loved when I'm definitely not lovable.  How else will I begin to grasp how loved I am?...

the hard work of peacemaking

“You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family." (the Message)


Where does peace start?  This morning my boys started fighting because the older one coughed on the younger one.  And then the younger one had to cough on the older one's face.  And then they started resorting to rude tones and words.  As a parent it's easy to get swept up into the tidal wave of anger and use anger to "stop" the fighting.  The parent chimes in "Stop fighting!"  And if you are anything like me, your tone gets louder and angrier as you repeat requests to stop.  (I have to admit that I have resembled a three year old in my parenting many times!)  Now everyone is angry.  And where will the peace come from?  Force?  "Say your sorry right now!!!"

In an effort to not step into the anger ring this morning I tried many different tactics (a bit of an experiment I guess) to see if I could model peacemaking.  Not because I'm that good, but because the verse "Blessed are the peacemakers..." (Matthew 5:9) popped into my head this morning like a breath prayer.  I wanted to see if the cycle of anger could be broken with the work of peacemaking.  But let me tell you, it was hard work to try to be a peacemaker.  My youngest was having none of it.  He avoided looking at me when I resorted to dancing to Enya around the living room.  Yes, I thought dancing to Enya might bring us some peace through humor and lightheartedness.  But his protests continued "he started it! he coughed on my face!"  I had made a comment that they each say something nice to each other before we left for school.  "He hasn't said anything nice to me yet.  I hate him!"  Yep, those were the words we were hearing thrown like missiles in our home this morning, while Enya played her sweet songs in the backdrop.  Whew.  It was hard not to respond with hot angry words.  Wouldn't it have been justified?  Sure.  But anger on top of anger...that is where war comes.  Our world has plenty of that.  How can I teach my boys to be peacemakers?

“You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family." (the Message)

In the end we invited our older son to say something nice to his younger brother even though it was hard.  Even though there was no reason to choose to be nice to someone saying rude things like "I hate him!"  Even though everyone observing would say that the younger brother doesn't deserve any nice things said to him.  I shared that it takes courage and strength to be a peacemaker.  It's hard work to stop the cycle of anger...to spread peace.  Peace is easy when we are all singing kumbaya together around the fire.  It feels warm and fuzzy.  But to actively bring peace out into the hostile world...that is a courageous and hard thing to do.
Pete and I stood back and continued making lunches, and then I watched as the older one made his way over to the younger "I'm glad that you are a part of the family."  Wow, such a hard thing to say when the younger one has been saying such awful things like "I hate you."  I was in awe.  Could I have done that if it had been me in his shoes?  There have been plenty of times when I have not had the courage or desire to say anything nice to Pete.  I want him to say something nice first.
The room was quiet.  The younger one sat quietly.  Nothing.  No response.  Just quiet.  No more anger missiles.  Nothing.  As I watched I thought about how God made peace with us (and continues to do so).  I am like the younger son.  Angry, and justified in my anger.  But peace interrupts the anger.  It doesn't wait for the anger to subside.  It actively pierces through the anger, it abruptly comes in.  God extends peace to each of us even though we really don't deserve it.  He doesn't wait until I come to my senses before he acts.  Without intentional peacemakers in our world we will never know peace.

Peace takes courage.  It is hard work.  And that is why they are called blessed!

Peace.