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long nights, election results, and lion dens

by admin | Nov 7, 2024 | Purpose

The long nights of waiting, the unwanted results, interruptions in the plan, and not ever getting what you hoped for. What do those things really have in common? They are tortures of the human soul, shared conditions that might make us feel worse initially. But can also make us better somehow. Whether you suffered a recent loss, an election result you’re not sure you can live with, or face an enemy in your soul’s struggle, you might know what it means to wait. Keep reading if you need a little hope in your waiting, or hope for your current season of struggle. (And tell me, who doesn’t? ❤️)

My geriatric dog has been getting me up at all odd hours of the night for the last four years. I’ve gotten used to fragments of sleep, fragments of hope, fragments of what feels like love.

I’ve still awoken mostly around four or five in the morning, after all th stops and starts.

I’ve gotten used to interruptions and delays in sleep.

Last night, I slept straight through and got to wake up to a whole bright new day (even though technically it was hours before the sun would come too.)

The night previous, I slept for two hours and woke up as most people were headed to bed. So four hours I watched as the votes rolled in, the tide turned red, and then I went to bed.

As I reflect on what happened, I am amazed. Yes, you know I am relieved. I know you may or be. Some say I’m stupid, some say I’m brave for discussing any of it. I don’t know or care what you think about me, personally, but I know that your experience or response may not be what mine is right now. But there’s something more important at stake.

And it’s you.

When I think about it all. including what little sleep I got that night, let alone the four years previously, I cannot help but think of those who wait up, stay up, night after night, in terror or in dismay. Any night, in interruption, in staggered hopes, and broken bodies and troubled dreams.

The morning after the election I woke up with enough energy to run, even though it sounded unreasonable to my mind. I just knew what to do as I woke up and processed and prayed. I guess my body has gotten used to literally running on less sleep.I woke up somehow fully awake, aware and ready to hit the ground running. It made little sense, but I went with it.

(It’s amazing what we learn to live with, while we wait and hope, for years.)

I went on that day to teach a couple bunches of kids about Daniel in the lions den, about bravery in the face of resistance, about sneaky policies and government officials that would try to trap you with their decrees.

Though we all may feel differently after an election about which side does or intends that, we all know the feeling.

And you know what Daniel did? He served and prayed to his God, NO MATTER WHAT.

Daniel chose God, and it got him in trouble.

But God stayed with Daniel throughout the whole night, where he probably didn’t sleep, while the lions roared and rained around him. It sounds awful. But dare I say some of us know that feeling- in theory if not in actuality. We know what it feels to be troubled, to have troubled, prowling around us even as we want so badly to rest.

What did Daniel know though?
He knew who His God was. He knew who His helper was, no matter what was going on around him.

GOD WAS WITH Daniel AND HE SUSTAINED HIM.

As one of the boys pointed out, Daniel had prayed to God a lot already. He knew God, well. So that night in the lions den was no exception. God was His go-to, His constant. God was there for Daniel.

And Daniel knew who God was.

The kid said, “‘maybe he had some food in his pocket, or maybe he knew how to talk to the animals, because he was so close with God.” I’m not sure if I’d ever thought of that possibility. But it was, possible. His knowledge of God and connection with God could have provided for him in unreasonable, unimaginable ways.

But also, and I think most of all, it says that the angel of the Lord was with him. That usually means that the Lord Himself was with him.

God has wherever you need, and when you are in need, you can call to Him. He will sustain you, just as He did Daniel. Even if you’re afraid, even if you got mixed up or did something wrong or find yourself that you didn’t intend. When you cry to the Lord, He hears you.

So whether you’re up and restless because you’re happy or you’re tossing and turning because you feel that you’re surrounded by a dark night full of lions, please know that God hears your prayers.

Maybe He’ll turn the lions into your friends. Maybe He’ll shut their mouths to keep you safe.

Either way, when you look to the God who is always willing to help you, when you pray to Him, He will work at the deepest levels, and you will be able to turn more into one of His friends.

Which makes all the difference in the world. You can know God, no matter what is going on around you. No matter what is happening, you can know Him MORE than you ever have before. These dark nights are an invitation to get to know Him more.

Who knows. Maybe He’ll turn your enemies into friends, too. Maybe He’ll calm you both down. Maybe He’ll make a wall around you where they can’t touch you, even though you hear them growl and groan all night long.

But be open to His love, be open to and seek His constant care. Seek Him in the dark nights of your soul, where you’re troubled and when you’re tired and lonely and frustrated.

It might end up being the best kind of interruption, even with the worst kind of start. It might become the best, brightest, darkest and most amazing night of your soul.

Where you encounter the One, true living GOD who loves you, too.

The one that Daniel knew, the One that delivered Him from lions. The One that can deliver you.
Be brave enough to ask Him for help.
Be brave enough to seek Him, long before you really think you need Him.

You might find out He’s really what you need, long before the lions, long after, and FOREVER.

Whatever your restless soul needs tonight, or early this morning, God knows. God hears. And God can really help.

Lumps, Bumps, and Scary at night – finding God there

by admin | Aug 27, 2024 | Purpose

I wasn’t sure when exactly I was going to tell this story, but for three weeks in August I was wrestling with something and wondering what was next. Maybe you’ve been there, maybe you are there, or maybe someday you will be. For whoever else needs this today, It’s not only about me, it’s about truth for all of us. Truth if we’ll just hold on….

Three weeks ago I found a lump. In my breast, right over my heart, on the left side. The kind that stopped me in the shower, sending me in a several- moments long tailspin. Life suddenly flashed before my eyes and I was wondering what life might be like for my kids, let alone for me next, and for my family. But especially my kids. Mom with a lump was not something one expects for their kids.

As they played and got ready and argued a bit as usually, coming to me for help, just outside the curtain where I was suddenly myself now catapulted into another world, I tried to steady my heart, even as my mind raced. What would I have to go through, how would I fight?
What would it be like for these kids if they had to go on without me? How much time might I have to finish things I thought I had been given to finish?

I don’t know. It all sounds so self important and overreacting now, but my heart was reeling. But you’re probably starting to skim to get to the answers here, too. Wanting to know what is going on. Just as I wanted to know for my own family. I think it happens to the best of us sometimes.

Have you ever been there? Facing something like that, which may be nothing or may be quite something? I know some of you absolutely have. You walked through those fires, you jumped through those hoops, and you’ve climbed those very menacing mountains. And you’re still here.
Thank you by the way. thank you. I counted your names, and it gave me courage, even as I struggled wrapping my thoughts around the possibilities.

I wrestled and thought. Suddenly I counted every minute differently, and continued to for the next hours and days ahead, while we tried to figure it out. It felt all so much more sacred and heavy and fleeting. The way it usually is, really, but we just don’t always know.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shaking a bit that first afternoon, even as I tried not to, and certainly not to let on.

Hours later, I sat on our back deck in early lovely evening to talk it through with the Lord- the first person I ever told.
Yes, person. I know, He knew exactly what was going on. He knew long before I did. He knew at that moment as I imagined worst case scenarios, without even really trying. He knew exactly what was happening and what was going to happen. He knew my state of worry and my “diagnosis”, long before I ever knew I needed one. I looked to Him for answers, but firmly got none except this:

“When you walk through the water, I will be there. When you go the fire you will not be burned. I will be with you.”

It was heavy, those words, but not like the burden I was carrying. Heavier in a weighty sense, like a fire blanket that helped to douse my inner raging fires. They were still there, embers crackling with the unsurity of things.

But the truth is, the promise I received from the Lord was both heavier in a good way, and stronger than all of my raging fears and assumptions. He would be there. He already was. I breathed it in, through, out.

I wasn’t fully consumed anymore by these thoughts of “what if”, of battles I didn’t want to have to fight, ones would never sign up for. I still thought of them, but they didn’t fully consume me. There are things of life that are less desirable, and never chosen- and they can be overwhelming. But you know what is stronger, and more powerful?

His Love. His love His love, His Love.

And I didn’t have to walk through the next three weeks of waiting for various doctor’s appointment without peace. I didn’t have wait for a good diagnosis for peace. I got it weeks ago, at what I knew as the start of this solo journey.

Now, if you know me, you know I’ve been a worrier in the past. I think it’s a bit of a care-taker phenomenon, being a worse case scenario- preparer and anticipator at times. But not anymore. It’s not that I don’t ever worry, I don’t worry the way that I used to. God’s love has changed that, the way that I process information.

I mean, His Love was always there, as it is, with His nature. But allowing it in, and deeper, is what’s continually changed me.
I don’t have to wait for a clear diagnosis to feel relief. I don’t have to wait to be through the storm to have peace. I can have it right where I am, because God is with me.

And that’s what I’ve had for three waiting weeks. God with me, and a praying family, and a few praying friends. We don’t need much more sometimes, most of the time, that is. Thats a pretty powerful combination.

What I held on to is knowing that God was with me and would be with me- for whatever might be next, and certainly for whatever would be. He is good and He will be good to me, that I knew. I knew because He told me, and I know Him enough to trust Him when He tells me something.

My husband was wonderful while we waited. He held on tight and prayed for me, and with me. He agreed when I said I knew it would be okay, either way, because God was with me. I could tell it shook him too, thought, the thought of what might be.

Still, we, like I said, we didn’t have to wait for Peace. Because the Person of Peace was holding us- in every embrace, in every prayer, in every breath, really.

He was, and has always been, faithful

Now I three weeks later have a full, great diagnosis. It’s just a grape sized cyst that might occur again and has no need for intervention. I’m so grateful. I am so relieved. But honestly, I was just as peaceful before as after, and I know if the story was different with what they found, the sma prince of Peace would have been in the room with me, able to enable me to handle whatever was next.

Yet I am, so so grateful. To go back to life as “normal”. To get back to the work of living, but remembering living is not all guaranteed. While the kids never knew anything was going on, and I always try to live in the “now”, I hope that they benefit even more from the inner wake up call momma had. The double sided reminder: we do not have forever, and God is truly with us all.

I’m also so grateful for all of you who have had to walk through these things. I’m so so grateful that none of ever have to alone.

If you ever are facing something like this- a diagnosis or a possible one, for yourself or for someone else- I pray that you will lean on Him, and let Him hold you all, too. And if you ever need prayer, I’m here for that too. Please, Just reach out. Xx

Happy Sunday, friends. Today’s a gift, just like every day. Let’s unwrap and enjoy all that the Lord has to offer us.

I’m so grateful that He’s got us all.🫶🏻

Isaiah 43….
“Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you.
I have called you by name; you are mine.
When you go through deep waters,
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.
For I am the LORD, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
I gave Egypt as a ransom for your freedom;
I gave Ethiopia and Seba in your place.
Others were given in exchange for you.
I traded their lives for yours
because you are precious to me.
You are honored, and I love you.

“Do not be afraid, for I am with you.
I will gather you and your children from east and west.
I will say to the north and south,
‘Bring my sons and daughters back to Israel
from the distant corners of the earth.
Bring all who claim me as their God,
for I have made them for my glory.
It was I who created them.’”

sailing the ship (shape) of things

by admin | Aug 13, 2024 | Purpose

(I didn’t think I’d be talking about sailing today, but here we are…It must be for someone. xo)

I spend all summer with my kids. Like pretty much every moment of every day. (Before you feel either envy or pity for me, just wait a second.)
I do sneak away for runs or to work in the next room or to work on something. Like those endless dishes and laundry.
But otherwise, we’re “together” all summer. All summer.

And here’s what I’ve learned:
it’s still not “enough” I still don’t ever feel like it’s enough time. To get to the good stuff. To catch up on all the projects. To make the most brilliant life of which I dream. The one where no messes come to get in the way, where no tears sneak in and no complaints are aired out like the stinky sneakers nobody sees. Everybody has them but nobody wants to talk about them, let alone have them.
Even on our best days, the niggling restless parts of life sneak in. On the days of grandest adventure you feel tired and off key. On the days you feel your best, there are no plans or worse, they’re rained out. You can’t quit feeling like there’s a band playing and you’re marching just stifling off beat (or a lot.)
Well friend, I’ve got a gentle news flash, a reminder for you.
We’re all in this same wonky, sometimes beautiful boat. Life is a pretty mixed bag of outrageous and gorgeous and you’ll never get it all just quite right, no matter how hard you try. And even less with each persons life added in around you.
But we weren’t meant to do it alone, and sailing’s not for wussies.

Ooooff, that word. I can’t get away from it. I deleted it and went back. I tired to say dumps but it just didn’t works. This one seems to be the word that muscles itself in and declares itself the most appropriate. I myself find it rather offensive and don’t like to use it. But here I look up what does “wuss” actually mean: A person regarded as weak, ineffectual, or overly fearful.
A weak or ineffectual person.
A person who is physically weak and ineffectual.

Okay, so yeah, you win there clever little (annoying) word.

But wait, Isn’t sailing supposed to be glorious and eventually blissful? Relaxing? Cmon!
Well, Maybe.
But it’s also adventurous and a bit dangerous and a huge responsibility.
(Ugh.)

Sounds a bit like life, doesn’t it.
And you’re sailing a ship alright- not just of your “life” as much as your time, your attention, and your connection with all of these people in your boat. We like to focus on all the little details, some of which we can control, most of what we can’t and some which is really of no business of ours in the making (certainly not the weather.)

Yes, our job is not to control the weather or the winds at all, but to adjust our sail, as they say, right?
How do we do that?
On this beautiful ridiculous, sunset to sunrise, and back all over again, cruise?

We adjust our mind, our thoughts, our hearts.

Let the little stuff go. Stop trying to control the big stuff too. Let the Lord more speak to the your heart. Let Him speak Peace over you- and over the storms within you and about you.

It’s not just about your circumstances, He’s after your heart. Making it stronger, more fearless, unyielding to the conditions, effectual.

While the boat might be rocking and windswept one minute and smoothly sailing the next, Je wants you to be steadfast through all of it. Not a”wus” that is literally rocked from one side of the boat to the next, emotional, overreacting, panicking with every toss and turn.
It’s all a part of the journey, but the Lord does not want you to be one that’s ‘taken for a ride.’

Yet only you can control your thought, your heart, your tongue.
If the proverbs are true (and we know a bit about that) then the tongue is a rudder, telling a ship where to go.
What does your tongue have to say? Maybe it can’t seem to steer your whole life, but at the very least, it can tell your heart where to go and what to do.

Tell your heart of His Love.
His great great Love. Adjust your sails to the winds of His love and presence.
Don’t worry about the weather- Worship the God of all of the winds and the waves. Don’t keep your focus on and worry about every little detail, adjusting things to be “just right” in your boat.
Keep your eyes on the prize. Jesus
He’s in the boat with you.
This beautiful wild, wacky boat.

This life, in all its wonderful weirdness, it’s back and forth of a sailing adventure.

Most of all-
Let the Prince of peace have His say in your heart. Then let your heart keep speaking- of all of His goodness.

With all of the craziness around you- the no breaks and break neck speed and work and life and home. With the messes and the heartbreaks and the cleanup and the redirections.
He’s right there, and That’s very good.
Hold on to Him let Him fill your heart, and Keep going.

A Shower of Stars, Longing, Love and Life

by admin | Aug 12, 2024 | Purpose

✨It’s so easy to thing we have forever, or a long time at least.  Days stretch out in such a way that we are lulled into different paces and places than we’re maybe meant for.  

We slow down when we’re meant to speed up- working towards collective, shared dreams.  We speed up and rush through some of the good stuff, the quiet moments, the smaller tasks.  The mixing of batter, the washing of heads, the taking of breaths.  

We will miss certain things more when they’re gone than while they were present- because we traded them for worry in that exact moment that we lived them.  

We often do trade important for pertinent, simply because one is more selfish and rude, though not always honest or true.  
We rush through lazy afternoons and languish through our work day tasks.   
Oh how backwards we have it sometimes.  Or maybe that’s just me.  

We do this without really even trying, so don’t feel bad about yourself. I tell myself this, too. 
I think that’s the whole point.  Things lie about their brevity and their importance and we just tend to follow suit, because they’re such good actors.  (And they make such good actors out of us.)

If only we can really see it. 

How lovely it is as it really is.  Our family.  Our friendships.  This moment.  The sunset.  The star showers, the star stories, the life stories. 

I lingered outside last night under those great big beautiful stars. The ones that only look so small from where I am. I stayed outside, in the middle of the summer star shower, longer than my kids. They headed back inside before i dud,  as I stood there craned my neck backwards, trying to find just *one more shooting star*.  Two, if I’m being honest.   But I couldn’t.  
I might have been being greedy- for I’d already gotten that “one more” when I asked and they were right there.  Bright and streaming with a green tail.  Not to mention the one we all witnessed, that was so dazzling and bright, seconds long, and perhaps the best one I’d ever seen.  

Star watching on a clear calm night has always been a favorite thing of mine, even though I don’t “get” to do it much now.  I used to lay there hours out on the dock, by the lake when I was in my late teens and early twenties, before life took shape.  looking for those shooting stars.  
Things are different now, and I certainly don’t do it as much, and not there anymore, not that dock at least.  But I remembered what it was like last night, and I wanted to keep right on looking. Even though it wasn’t by a lake, and life looked so different, I remembered to joy of that quest.  

Until I lingered long enough that my daughter stepped outside and walked over to find me.  A stream of her blonde hair trailing behind her, I could see it even in the dark.  I could find her and her beautiful smile as she sought me. 
I kid you not, at that exact moment another small shooting star streamed overhead, its own blonde tail right behind it, and just over her head.  
Two shooting stars.  There they were. 
Two  bright, beautiful shooting stars.  
I got what I hoped for, and more. 
Plus her brother inside, and my husband.  Everything and more, than I could have wished for or hoped for as I lay on that teenage dock of dreams.  

I picked her up in my arms and we walked  back inside together.  

I don’t have to go looking for shooting stars anymore.  Not for hours, at least, and not like that.  I may still stop to look and linger at times.  But those hours spent before are now spent in better ways.  
Those big, bright beautiful, beating-heart stars are right here.  Yes, they’re right here.  

Under the roof of our humble home, our blessed lives, and we’re all much bigger than we know.  Bigger than we appear sometimes, too. 
Especially from far away. So I come close, I step inside, under the miracle of the showers of shooting stars happening right under my roof.   

I breathe it in. We are all, home, here, together.

This truth fills me with a warm glowing ember of  this ‘present’.  

In my thoughts, as well as my heart. There is also a knowing even, that we might be able to find more adventures together, maybe even some shooting stars, too.  Together, in the future. 

That bright, beautiful future-  that’s streaming past our eyes, a shower of stars from Heaven above.  ❤️

Holding holidays loosely

by admin | Jul 8, 2024 | Purpose

I’ve learned to hold holidays and traditions lightly.

I think sometimes that it’s one of the best, and hardest things that I’ve learned as a parent and spouse. Not every celebration or yearly holiday has to have to same set of situations, the same series of events, the same special set of checklists.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love those great treasures of “we always..” immensely.
They can be so lovely, and valuable.
But if you’re not careful they can quickly become life suffocating. The very thing meant to hold you together, or so you’re lead to believe, becomes the thing that can tie you all up in knots.

For the last two fourths of July it seemed we may have found “our thing.” A race, a parade, a visit to a lake. All the things you might love. But none have been repeated, even though we had high hopes for this year. Life just doesn’t always fit in the neat little boxes we try to shove it into, not without something breaking that is.

So we kept an open hand, there was give and take, and a lot of space to fill in the blanks and color -without lines but with lots of grace.
Without further mention, and with no real planning, I’ll tell you how it went.

We made red white and blue pancakes at home, bursting with blueberries and raspberries (unless you’re the one who doesn’t like that kind, and for you it was just white.)

We cut open that watermelon we had been saving, and ate it for lunch. Even as I started to unwrap it, I wondered if it should be for dinner instead. But the juice was too sweet and the pieces too red and perfect to wait now.

We made a few pizzas, and pasta, and salad and cut up peppers and ate outside under the awning. The temperature had cooled just enough, there was a breeze and we were able to relax and smile enough to not melt.

There was a very hot run earlier, and I haven’t sweated so much in years. The kind where once you stop, your whole body doesn’t quite know it yet, and before you know it, you’re as wet as if you ran through the hose. Speaking of, I wondered if we’d do that later.

We went for a nice big bike ride through some neighborhoods, the kids side by side and matched pound for pound, trying to make sure no one got ahead of the other. We talked about stopping home to grab a bag of sunscreen and towels, put on our suits, and ride to the pool club for a swim. “That’s a great idea,” declared my son.

We got home and daddy had cooked up a different plan , but we were all in. The drive -in movies, for what would be the first time. We loaded up blankets and swuishamellows and some pillows, and we petted the doggie goodbye and set off. We planned for burgers on the way and maybe even a milkshake . It was all of those things- plus juke boxes and fifties and 60s tunes, messy hands from too many condiments (so me), and thick milkshakes. Then a longish, silly wait for the drive in to open up, front row seats, snd a rather relaxed round (and a half) of mini golf. We played catch in the grass with new friends while the sun set and the fireflies came out to warm things up.

The movie was good, and the company better. My son was so relaxed and steed in his element it seemed, with a giant bowl of popcorn. My daughter sighed, “this is SO much fun.”

As we drove home so late, we parents saw some fireworks right next to the road as we passed at the exact time. I tied to take a picture to show the kids but it happened too fast and then it was finished. We carried our kids off to bed, and I thought of how they were snuggled in so close, next to me during the movie.
And someday I will long for that nearness, so easy and free. I will long for bikes rides where we dream up plans, only to come home and change them. And I’ll love how the watermelon never tasted so sweet or went to waste, not then, because there were eager hands set for helping. I’ll remember how long I spent trying to get the swimming knots out of hair, or the smell of bug spray as I sprayed multiple sets of legs and arms and necks that were not only me.
I’ll remember walking behind them, as the each were holding daddy’s hands, a bounce in their step and total anticipation, even though the mini golf doesnt look so great to grown up eyes.
I’ll smile anyway. I’ll remember that view, so well. The one that came from being a few steps behind, not ahead. From grabbing that bottle of bug spray that I was so glad I had, even though I hadn’t planned ahead to need. Even though I wouldn’t want to need it, it sure was nice to have. The opportunity and the spray. Because all of the best adventures come with a few stickier or trickier bits. And finding a work around for those things takes time, but it’s worth it.

And that view is everything.

Yeah, I’ve just had to learn that these plans can’t all be mine or go according to however I think they should go. There’s a million ways they might flip or flop, and I’m really just here for this view.

Walking together, with love.

I hustle to catch up with them, after taking a picture of course, and I think, not all things can or should be planned.

Not by me at least. I gave up my checklists and must-haves a long time ago. They’re right here walking around with me. With us.

That whole “Head down, planning everything” thing can be very tiring. And I much prefer this view. Front loading some efforts, but really, I’m just Along for the ride.

Not comparing what’s going on with my notes of “meant to” or what it’s “supposed to look like.”

Checking off those boxes doesn’t mean you’re actually checking out or enjoying the views. Isn’t that what’s most important anyway? You might end up seeing some you never expected, but will always treasure too.