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?"