Tomorrow will mark the Epiphany. Epiphany has several meanings, and one is “a sudden revelation or insight”. Epiphany also is a notable day in the Church, celebrating when the wise men found Jesus, thereby representing when all Gentiles then found Jesus.
We seem to be living in a time of continued insight and revelation, to all sorts of information, and it can be confusing or overwhelming. It’s important to keep in mind this: Truth is never silent. We just sometimes need to do a better job at paying attention.
The wise men, who sought truth by looking to the stars, finally found it. The ultimate Truth. God’s love come from heaven to earth. They didn’t even understand all of what it meant yet. How could they? Whether they understood it or not had no bearing on whether it was true.
We are all wise men. At first, at least. We are seeking truth, turning over rocks, looking for understanding. Big truths, little truths. All of it. Sometimes we find it, and keep it. Other times we might return those pieces holding truth back to their place- in disbelief, or to cover it from our eyes, try ignore it. Because it’s too hard or too unreasonable or unfathomable. It will not cease to be true.
When we find truth or Truth, we can choose to be like children, cover our ears, close our eyes, and wish it to go away. Worse yet, we could choose to be like King Herod, who when he found out the truth, felt that it would jeopardize his position. And so he sought to destroy it.
Herod’s plan to destroy the truth didn’t work out, by the way. The truth accomplished what it came to earth to accomplish. Even if others didn’t know what even happened. Truth always triumphs, even when people don’t accept it. Even when it doesn’t look like anyone was hoping.
One of my favorite Christmas cards of all says , “Wise men still seek Him.” We can choose to be wise men if, after finding truth, we don’t walk away from it. Especially the biggest truth of all, of the baby who would save us from ourselves. We can come, too, and kneel before the One who Is.
Truth requires humility and faith, both. Truth can’t be ignored forever, and it is never is forgotten. Once someone knows truth, even a sliver of it, they will always know it. Even if, or rather when, their mind tries to talk them out of it. Your heart will still always know. Truth doesn’t disappear. Truth is not silent, nor will stay hidden forever. We just sometimes need to do a better job of paying attention. Truth never lies. We just tell ourselves some or a lot of those.
My prayer this year is for more LOVE and UNDERSTANDING. See, sometimes lies start with misunderstanding. So I would like to find more of both. With continued discovery, and uncovering. Maybe you would like to join me. It is wise to never stop seeking truth. Those that do are on a continued journey of discovery. Oh, to be a wise man, who hears, who humbles himself, and who shares with others. Even if you’re not sure what anyone will do, yourself among them, when you find it. Truth is not intimidated by anything. It changes things when it speaks.
Truth is, Jesus IS truth. The way, the Truth, the Life, according to scripture. So if you want to find truth, sure you can read as many articles as you can. You can peruse the internet. You can ask a lot of questions. For me, the best question I can ever ask is to the Truth himself. Jesus what do you say?” Not “what would Jesus do?” But, rather “Jesus, what are you doing?” The first question is that of a dead religion. The second is to a living, breathing savior. Who longs to reveal himself.
Because this Truth, this Jesus? He’s worth trusting. He is worth finding.
He brings with himself more understanding. Even if you don’t get a clear answer right away, or maybe even ever, you can’t ever go wrong asking and trusting Him. Who IS truth. Even of what we don’t yet understand. Getting closer to Him will always always always be worth it.
Do you ever pick a word for your year? A theme for a season? No matter what you might have picked, this year’s realities probably surpassed what you anticipated or expected. 2020 was full of… surprises, to say the least. Sitting here in yoga leggings and a sparkly sweater, feeling grateful to be with my family while feeling a little like something’s missing, I consider these dichotomies. It would seem that there’s one word that kind of sums up everything. (And no, it’s not a cuss word.) If 2020 was anything, it has got to be the year of “and”.
Struggle and blessing. Disappointment and joy. Frustration and breakthrough. Open eyes and hurting hearts. It was year of hugging the ones around you closer and tighter while missing those too far away, or worse, having gone and left an unfillable hole. It was a year of tremendous growth and some real pain. A year where you feel blessed to be home and yet miss going out. Year of losing of some things, while gaining some more of what matters most. Figuring some things out and understanding there’s so much that you never will.
2020 was, or felt like, one of the biggest mixed bags of blessing and trial. It has even seemed to hold onto its job until the very final moments, the last gasps. If you to find yourself ringing in the new year with some mix of emotions- maybe even yoga pants on the bottom and a sparkly sweater on top, too- then you my friend, might have found your word to sum up 2020. Your year might have been an “AND” year, too.
The crazy thing about “and” though, is that it holds a whole lot of space for grace. Where two things coexists that are seemingly impossible at the same time, Grace is a bridge between them. Grace is where God comes. It’s the bridge between what was, and what could have been. Between joy and grief, between love and learning more. Between here and the now, yesterday and today. Between heaven and earth. Grace is a meeting place.
As we stand facing 2021 and a whole new year yet to discover, I hope that you can meet up with Grace upon the bridge. And there, meeting His Love, you can walk across the bridge together.
It’s a good idea, too, to leave behind what you’re able to leave behind. It help you recognize grace when you stumble upon it. Help you really embrace it when you find it. Leave the things like bitterness, anger, and pain behind as soon as you can, and whatever else is heavy, unbecoming, loathsome, cumbersome .
For whatever you may have lost, I pray you carry with you only the salvageable things forward. Keeping what it taught you and what you learned. (Sometimes it came at a very high price.) The things that remain (like faith, Hope, and love.) Things that don’t weigh you down. Without carrying the extra heavy stuff. Regret, worry, disappointment. Because it’s important to not get weighed down.
“Letting go of what is behind pressing on for what is ahead.”
Cheers to 2020. Thankful for what has brought you here and determined to leave behind anything but the best. Cheers to holding onto the blessings, the beauty, the important things. Letting go of what you can’t control. Acknowledging what we’ve lost, what’s been painful, and choosing to not carry what we don’t need any further.
Standing at the edge of a new year. Rejoicing over it- what has brought us here, what’s behind, and what is yet ahead. Trusting that whatever it is is going to be brighter. That we’re more ready. Ready to move ahead, into a great new unknown. With more strength AND gratitude than we knew last year.
Thanks 2020. It’s been real. AND we’re glad we’ve made it over to the other side.
Hi, I’m Courtney, and I’m a recovering People Pleaser (raising hand high.) Anyone else? Well you’re in good company. I have spent a great deal of time in my life aiming to please people, longing for approval, and craving recognition for a job well done. Sound familiar? Keep reading. Because I’m not doing it anymore (mostly), and I’m going to tell you why. There are many things that have brought me to this realization, like the slow unpeeling of an onion, and I am in many ways, still arriving here.
For years I heard Kelly Ripa say, “I aim to disappoint everyone just little bit each day.” I always thought that was crazy. I’d laugh, though, and think, ‘That works for her. But that’s not me.” I may have even secretly thought ‘I must be more selfless or giving.” Ha. A few years, a few adventures, and a few kids later, I GET IT.
It began first for me with the inability to do so after having my second child. I mean, a first child can be the catalyst for some, for others, it might be their fourth or fifth. For me, however, as a super hustler with a side of people pleaser, I could do so much still with my one child. She was mostly agreeable, and her schedule was super flexible and I could bring her (almost) anywhere- mountain tops, restaurants, and almost anywhere in between . My people pleasing life continued after she arrived with very little disruption.
However, child number two changed all of that. Have one kid, will travel. two kids, and it didn’t work out quite so seamlessly. By necessity, I learned to establish some boundaries for myself. It took me becoming physically incapable of obliging all of the time to, well, stop obliging. So that was a good start.
Then something else started happening. I started connecting with my own dreams, and beyond just dreams, but PURPOSE. I suddenly realized I could not pursue both simultaneously. And also, this bottom line truth:
I was not put on this earth to. please. other. people.
Let that sink in a little bit. We did not arrive on this planet to make other people happy. We were put on the earth to do great things- in big and small ways- to do them well, and to share our unique creativity and perspective. But we were not put here for the feedback.
Being motivated to help people is not the same thing as being a people pleaser.
We may serve, or bless, but our goal should never be just have other people pat us on the head, compliment us, congratulate us, or feel happy with us. Being a people pleaser means the focus is on the feedback, the sense of self worth, and the sense of love or security we feel in that.
I have a natural bend toward helping, and maybe you do too. Some of us are more likely to grow into these habits than others. Maybe it’s the way that we were raised, maybe it was too much praise at home or a lack thereof. Maybe it’s tied up to your natural giftings as a performer or tendency as a helper. You do something, or help, then people appreciate you, maybe give you a pat on the head, so you go out and help/do/be more. Now, this cycle of recognition/reward is a very natural side effect. But it’s a side effect that can too easily become our CAUSE.
DOING what we were born to do should be our cause. Though I want to help, making others happy with my efforts should not be my goal. My focus should be on doing my part, not the desired outcome feedback.
Let’s be honest. Trying to please other people is an effort to fill a deep need for acceptance and recognition, wrapped in a package of kindness. But at the core, you’re looking for feedback and love based on what you’re doing. It causes you to rely on the feedback. People’s feedback is malleable, based on their day, their desires, their own process. It sometimes has absolutely nothing to do with you. It may connect with something you’ve done in a meaningful way, but it’s not indelibly tied to your life or meaning.
The reality is, if you’re aiming to please those around you all day, the only one that you will disappoint at the end of the day is yourself. I think it also speaks to boundaries. If you’re not “failing” others little, you’re failing yourself and your destiny more completely.
You’re a conscientious person and a very good worker. You’ve honed skills and developed a fantastic work ethic. But, allowing worth to be immediately tied to work, and even more specifically to the feedback from the work, is not a healthy approach. All that you do is important, and it is best when it comes from a deep sense of value that you know, not be the thing that makes valuable.
Whether you’re mowing a lawn, ironing a shirt, stocking a shelf, designing a website, building a birdhouse, or creating a piece of art, if you can approach it with that distinction, your heart will be more clear and I bet that your work will be even better. You are doing the thing you are doing to the best of your current ability because you are a creative, strong, intelligent, capable, and hard working person, who has value to share. If it blesses other people, that’s fantastic, and you hope it does. But that is neither your goal nor your business. When something falls flat or you make a mistakable, it doesn’t crush you so deeply. Your value is not tied to the outcome or the feedback. Your value is in that deep seated individual spark that God put in you from the very moment you were created.
God didn’t place you on the earth to receive great feedback and not upset anyone. He didn’t place you here to make other people happy. Your aim is to add and provide value wherever you go, and with whatever work that you do, But not to seek your value from it.
I am now okay with disappointing. It is a new stance that I have taken out of necessity, some level of failure (I cannot do it all), and with the realization of what it means to walk toward my destiny. It’s not that I’m actually TRYING to disappoint anyone. I’m just learning my own limitations. I have learned to ALLOW myself to not please everyone or anyone at any given time, while still doing my best. It’s called being free.
Christmas decorations, songs and lights fill the landscapes around us. Maybe if we’re lucky, cookies fill our belly, too. We wait for the one magical day marked by a visit from Santa, and most importantly, the celebration of the birth of Christ. Yet while we wait, we are already celebrating Christmas. Advent is a time of waiting, a time of hope looking forward, and simultaneously celebrating what already is and has been. Advent means “the coming or arrival of something or someone that is important or worthy of note.” It is ‘already’ (arrival) and ‘not yet’ (coming).
Many people can identify with this, from waiting for a package until its arrival, or when you travel, in the space before the wheels of the plane land at your destination. Builders and carpenters know this feeling. They start with a plan for a building or a piece of furniture which exists first only in their mind’s eye, long before it appears. Already and not yet. Parents know it this, too. We know what it is to have a child stand before you, to see all at once the baby that they once were, the adult they might yet be, and who they are exactly right now- the length of their arms and the shape of their beloved face. Past present and future. Already, unfolding and not yet.
But perhaps it is something that mothers can understand, most of all.
Image courtesy of The Saints Project.com
The hope of advent was born in Mary the moment that her heart decided that it could be. And it lived there long before anyone knew about it, or certainly knew what was to come. It was and was not yet, all together.
Mothers cannot only imagine what it felt like to be Mary, pregnant and waiting, we have done it too. None of of us have birthed a savior, by any means, but we understand what it means to hold space for something unseen, to bear both a promise and a child at the same time. We know what it is to be in the waiting and the celebrating.
It’s not easy, this waiting, not by any means. You stretch and grow unfathomably, to sustain the baby and hold the weight of it. While everyone waits, you alone carry. Every time you walk up the stairs, bend down to put on your shoes, or attempt to clothe both you and the promise, you remember what it costs, this waiting. Your body and soul bears the weight of its becoming.
Ironically, though, motherhood is not defined by one birth or one bearing. It is a thousands births, all of them painful, as you watch your children grow and be reborn, right before your very eyes. Not one of these births is alike, except for the way they explode in your heart.
I think this is exactly what God meant when he inspired man to write the words about Mary “she pondered these things in her heart.” Mary was experiencing the heart wrench of motherhood. Of holding both past, present, and future together inside one singular beating heart.
It was in the moments between the angel telling her that she’d bear the son, to his actual coming. When the shepherds came and they all looked upon the baby-his lips, his downy hair, his tiny fingers- and they could hardly grasp what it meant. It was in the space between his birth and his resurrection. Between his sleepless nights and little boy wanderings. When he outgrew his mother and began to look like the man we imagine.
Things change, babies grow, and yet we somehow hold them all in our hearts simultaneously. It is in fact, one of the miracles of Motherhood, the one in common with the miracle of Christmas. For one heart to hold both promise and heartbreak, hope and longing, present and past, future and family. We bask in the weight of the glory that was held, for a time, in a tiny human container that could fit in the crook of an arm.
It’s enough to make someone cry.
The other day I did something that I try not to do too. I looked back at pictures of my kids from three years ago this week, and of course, I cried. The tiny faces and smaller little bodies put a lump in my throat and an ache in my heart. I could practically smell that baby head and feel it’s downy softness tucked under my chin as I carried it. I held back most of the tears but there were enough for that now three and a half year old baby to notice. I looked from the image of him to the very presence of him before me. I loved them both equally, felt like I held them both in my minds eye at the same time. My son noticed the tears. “God bless you mommy. And God bless you when I was a baby too.” The word blessing shot back through time and space, like an impossible arrow hitting its impossible target. As if they really do exist all at once.
We begin the Advent season with preparing and we spend this time in hopeful expectation. Yet know that he already is come. Jesus who was, and is, and is to come. Our hearts hold the three things in somewhat equal measure- all true, even if they seem dueling. Past, present, and future, bound together. It is waiting and hold the weight of what is and what is yet to be. Longing and expectation, some promises already realized, holding both seen and unseen, all exactly at the same time.
Motherhood and advent are alike in this: it is a holding all of multiple things at once. Future hope and past moments, all while experiencing the joy and struggle of the current hours. It is sometimes an act of courage to not be swept away in sentimentality. It is also an act of courage to walk forward into the future, holding hands and too knowing you’ll someday let go. It’s living squarely, decidedly, in the moment that’s before you.
It’s in the heart of a mother. It’s in the heart of a parent. It’s the heart of a builder. It’s the miracle of Christmas. Love come down from heaven, all around us, breath, skin, and bones, Already and Not Yet.
I see a momma running around the house, one project to the next, all of them interconnected. She feels overwhelmed, and behind in every single one. Some days she does better than this. But not today.
After three complete circles around the house of unfinished business, she makes the coffee. It can help. As it brews, she sits and waits, with memory. Burdens of what she did wrong this morning already, what she will probably do wrong again later, despite her greatest wishes otherwise. She looks around and sees again all she’s still getting wrong.
She returns to the pot, even before it has finished brewing. She reaches for a cup, sets it down. She sighs out her overwhelm. This coffee may make her rattle even more, but it’s the least she can do. Maybe it’ll give her the pep or the clarity she needs to take a next step.
A song comes on, and it cuts through the noise.
“When You walk into the room, everything changes.”
She puts down the coffee cup that she didn’t even fill yet. She sits, kneels, or maybe stands right there by the cupboard. Now she remembers. With a breathe in, now, she smells a peace that she could never pour into a cup. She fills the cup with her tears, the room with the sound of her heart. Not breaking, though.
Being made more whole. She remembers now, what she needs most of all. Who she needs most. A very real presence.
“You’re what I need, Jesus.
I may need to organize my thoughts, my life better. But I need you to reorganize my heart most of all. I am so thirsty. So, so thirsty. But not for more coffee or even a smoother hamster wheel.
I need you.”
Right there in the middle of the mess of paperwork, and unrest, unmet expectations, she finds for herself a few moments. Not to recall her faults, as usual, but to consider instead the goodness of God, and His great love. It washes over her soul. Warms her more than coffee. Refreshes her weary soul. Reorganizes her hearts. Calms her troubled mind.
This is what she truly needed. And to this Maker she’ll return.
Again, and on repeat, when her soul feels empty or sorrow or scattered.
She’ll get back to the place with the one love that will never run dry. The place where her cup truly overflows.
Theres an express invitation right now for each of us. It might sound crazy, but there’s an invitation from a very Living God. To sit with him, to be with him. To walk with him in the cool of the day. To be known by him and to know him.
“I have come that you might have life” is not spoken from heavenly places, from a distant God. Not ever, and certainly not now. It is spoken from someone standing right by your side. Someone strong, kind, and loving. I’ve see Him and he radiates goodness.
“ I have come.”
This invitation is not someone else’s. It’s yours. That is the express invitation of God to the world. You don’t need full understanding or seven talking points to enter into this blessed communion. You need only one.
Yes.
Your “yes” meets Jesus and everything changes. For the better, yes, but for ultimate redemption, too. You can’t get better than that, loves.
He is the answer to every prayer you have. Every. Single. One.
Take a minute or five. Wherever, however you can. See for yourself if this, if He, is what your soul needs.
“Jesus inform my heart. Calm and transform my mind. Meet with me. Renew me with your Love. Overflow from me. Because I need it. So everyone else around me..”
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love.