Celebrating Easter When You Have All the Emotions

Yesterday, I went on a walk around my neighborhood because I simply HAD to get out of the house.  There were too many things going on in my head, I was frustrated, I had a headache, we've been staying at home in quarantine for 3 1/2 weeks, and I was getting super grumpy – I knew if I didn’t get out of the house, I would start to take it out on people who didn’t deserve my wrathful impatience at all.

As I started walking, I could feel, actually almost hear, my heart thumping.  Not because of my exercise, but because of my flaring emotions.  It was an angry beat that I needed to calm down and I knew it.  I popped in my earbuds and turned on some music because I knew that I needed some Jesus.  Specifically, I needed a reminder that this was Holy Week.

Andrew Peterson’s song, “The Sower’s Song”, came on.  An artist I love, but for some reason I had never listened to this song before.  And I started thinking about Easter.  And my kids.  And sadness.  And joy. And parenting.  And failure.  And redemption.  My 7-year old asked me today, “Mommy, how can God bring something good out of the coronavirus?  How can He work it for good?”  I had heard a million questions about penguins and schedules and screen time and homework and outclasses and missing friends and breakfast, and my brain was tired.  But out of my grumpy fog, the Lord told me to stop and listen.  Not just hear. “LISTEN to her, Michelle.  Can you explain to her how I can make good things come out of terrible?”  How can my God bring a harvest out of hurt?      

I walked around the corner and saw one of my friends, a single woman in her 70s, power-washing her neighbor’s driveway.  She looked tired.  She told me she had come outside because she figured she could stay inside and be depressed, or she could come outside and do something that was helpful for someone else.  Normally, she keeps her emotions to herself, but lately, she has opened up more.  “Why aren’t we allowed to feel things and tell people how we feel, Michelle?  Why do we always have to acknowledge that someone has it worse than we do?  Can we acknowledge that but also still be able to share when we are hurting or having a hard time and not have someone get onto us because it could be so much worse?”  We talked for awhile – about how tired she was of being by herself and how she missed her Sunday School class, about how I just had to take a walk or I might explode on someone.   Then, we said our goodbyes and I kept walking and listening to music and she went back to power-washing.

I walked down a street that I hadn’t walked down in years.  Neighbors that I didn’t know drove by.  I waved.  They waved.  I caught a whiff of gardenia, a pleasant aroma that took me back to my childhood for a moment – my mother’s favorite scent.  I felt my heart angry beating, but not as hard as it was before.  I saw a bright aqua door – unexpected and bright and cheery.  I thought of my dear friend and her hurt and depression and willingness to speak of it.  I thought of another acquaintance who had recently been diagnosed with the coronavirus – he and his wife and his daughter - and how it doesn’t look like he will make it and my heart breaks just thinking about it.  Then my thoughts moved to my sweet friends who just had a baby boy prematurely, but he is growing and progressing in NICU.  And another dear family who just received a baby girl by adoption after waiting for her for 3 years.  And how much joy those situations brought to my heart.

It’s such a confusing season.  Fear and hope.  Foulness and fragrance.  Dullness and color.  Anger and love.  Depression and joy.  Ashes and beauty.  We are so often taught that one feeling at a time is normal.  One feeling at a time is manageable.  What happens when we have all of the feelings at once?  How does God work through both?  How CAN he bring a harvest out of hurt?  How do I abide in Him and let these branches bear fruit when I feel pain and anger and loss and promise and hope?  How many emotions can humanity go through in such a short time?  

Easter Week was like this, the first one. Think about Jesus’ disciples.  They saw the crowds cheer for Jesus as He rode into Jerusalem.  They watched him anger the city leaders when he threw people out of the temple.  They witnessed him standing up to the leaders’ hypocrisy.  They were confused as he talked about the days to come.  They balked as He washed their feet.  They saw one of their own betray Him.  They defended Him.  They ran.  They denied Him.  They saw Him crucified by the same people who had just cheered for Him.  They saw Him die.  All within the space of one week.

And then they witnessed a risen Savior.  RISEN FROM THE DEAD. 

I can’t even fathom the depth of each of those feelings.  The excitement.  The pride.  The anger.  The confusion.  The wonder.  The fear.  The shame.  The disbelief.  The hopelessness.  The AWE.   And each of these feelings were valid at the moment and also dependent on the circumstances they were experiencing.

But let me repeat it…

HE. IS. RISEN.  

That hasn’t changed in 2000 years. It had been the plan the whole time. God’s plans are not dependent on how we feel in the moment. It is His steadfastness that holds us up through the rollercoaster of emotions. That remains the same.  HE remains the same.  He is good.  He is faithful.  He is sovereign.  He is a refuge.  His understanding is far above ours.  His ways cannot be understood.  He takes what the enemy means for evil and turns it for good.  His resurrection doesn’t take away pain, and it doesn’t take away suffering.  But it brought the ultimate victory and salvation. And knowledge of that resurrection is a place for joy to reside, a foundational bedrock underneath those flowing feelings.  If we know we serve a risen Savior and we know that He is living, that knowledge holds us to what is real and true in the midst of ebb and flow and gives us solace and comfort and a foothold.    

So as you go through this week, this month, this season of staying at home – yes, feel the feelings.  The valid, multiple, differing feelings as your crazy life changes with the wind.  But anchor them to the joy that comes from knowing your Savior is unchanging and ALIVE and the victor over sin and death. 

Lessons from a Window Sill

I kill plants.  Actually, I can’t keep plants OR fish alive.  The one fish that I kept alive for more than a week grew a tumor in his cheek and lasted for about a month –  his name was Lucky.  Anyhow, green thumbs run through my family, as well as my husband’s.  I, however, did not acquire this gift.

So there was great trepidation when, about 5 years ago, my husband’s grandmother offered me one of  her beautiful bright pink and white amaryllis bulbs.  Her flowers were stunning, and I couldn’t help but exclaim how gorgeous they were.  She motioned for me to take one of her prized bulbs home to grow for myself.  And I blinked.  I desperately wanted to be able to do as she said.  But even my very supportive husband looked at me with wide eyes that said, “Michelle, I've seen you kill a sago palm and you’re going to take home one of Grandma’s flowers?”  We both knew that the chances for this poor, unassuming brown seed were slim.  I even warned her of my bad luck with plants, but it didn’t faze her.  I took it home, and I researched everything there was to know about amaryllis.  I put it in my kitchen window, the only place where it would have a remote chance of me remembering to water it, and I took care of that bulb.

I remember getting so excited when the first bright green sprout pushed its way out of the soft dirt.  It was so full of promise.  It grew so quickly, and by the end of the month, I had a very tall, skinny…leaf.  “Maybe more leaves and flowers will come?” I thought.  So I kept watering, and that single leaf grew until it was over a foot long.  For months that leaf lasted, and then, one day, I accidentally overwatered it, it turned yellow and, quite dramatically, it flopped over and died.  Sad is really not the right word for what I felt. 

The next year, it came back.  That one solitary leaf.  Again, I cared for it for months, determined not to overwater it, and then one day, I broke the leaf when moving the pot on my windowsill.

So Year 3, I figured I would try one last time.  But this year, TWO leaves popped up.  I was going to get a flower this year!  

Nope.  Two leaves.

Year 4?  TWO. LEAVES.

This year is Year 5.  Y'all, this year, I have THREE leaves.  “Ohhhhhh, Lord.  This is going to be the pattern?  A new leaf every 2 years?” I immediately Googled to see images of amaryllis – every picture I looked at has at least 5 leaves.  At this rate, I still may not have any type of flower to look at for a decade after receiving this plant.  I just want a pretty flower, and to prove that I can grow it myself.  But it isn’t happening. (Update -- it is now a 2 ¾ leaf plant because my husband was trying to kill a really pesky fly last night, and he accidentally took a chunk of leaf with it when he took a swing.  I unapologetically glared at him.)

Isn’t that like the Lord to work in our lives differently than we expect and hope and ask for?  “Lord, I just want X.”  “What do I need to do to get X?  Pray?  Behave?  Do good?  Humble myself?  Say this?  Not say this? Do this?  Not do this?”  I expect that if I hit on the right combination, there should be a good outcome, or at least, my idea of a good outcome.

Year 1 -- “Lord, I am doing everything I am supposed to.”  “But are you, My Child?”

Year 2 -- “Oops, Lord, I really messed up.” “Grace, My Child.”

Year 3 -- “Lord, I am trying again.  (I mean, check out that perseverance, Lord.)” [He smiles.]

Year 4 – “Lord, I’m still trying.  Tell me what to do.” [Still smiling.] “You’re not saying anything, Lord.”

Year 5 – “Lord, my planning isn’t making anything happen!  And this could literally take a decade!  Or two!” “My daughter, you know that trying and striving and working and busying yourself with ‘steps’ isn’t the key, right?”  [Silence]    [Then crying.]    [Then yelling.]          

I honestly don’t know if I will ever see an amaryllis in that pot.  I really do hope to at this point.  But in that limbo, my heart has quieted down.  There is not a magic formula, at least when it comes to ME successfully growing this flower.  I love a formula that works.  A + B should always equal C, right?  After continuously trying to make that work, I can tell you, NOT SO.

There are so many areas of my life where this has shown up, where formulas fail.  Right now, we are waiting on a liver & kidney transplant for my father-in-law who has been acutely ill for 2 years.  Our family is working through reconciliation in a relationship right now that has been a bit of a roller coaster.  A few years ago, we suffered a miscarriage and lost a little one.  We have walked through seasons of financial struggle. We are currently waiting for other answers.  Waiting, waiting, waiting.  My life is in flux, but yet…I am always waiting. As the “planner” of my family, I like to know timing, to be prepared, so that I can have some control and see success.  Waiting around all the time doesn’t allow me to do…well, any of that.

One of my favorite passages of Scripture is in Lamentations 3:22-24 -

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.  

‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in him.”  

Notice it doesn’t say, “I am my own portion, therefore I will hope/strive/trust in myself.”  I will hope in HIM.

When you wait through struggle, there is hope.  

When you wait for healing, there is hope.

When you wait for an answer, there is hope.  

When you wait for renewal, there is hope.
When you wait for a break, there is hope.

When you wait for a season to change...hope.

Job 12:10 says it like this --

“In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.”  

Our God is good, He is faithful, and we are in His hands.  Always.  I have seen it and I know it to be true.

Psalm 13 begins,

“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?  How long will you hide your face from me?”  

It is so tempting to think he has forgotten us.  Because we can’t hear him or see movement.  We can’t see the specific “blessing” or result that we requested.  But after calling out to the Lord, David remembers, 

“But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your SALVATION.  

I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me.”  

Even if the “only” thing he has ever done for me is to send His Son to lay down His very life for me, he has dealt bountifully with me through the salvation He so freely gives me. And we all know, that isn’t even close to the only thing He has done for us.  His mercies abound every day, His grace gives us grace to pass on, His strength upholds us, and His love enfolds us and flows through us.  

Bounty denotes abundance, harvest, gifts, plenty, generosity, and thankfully that abundance and generosity is in His nature.  We can trust in His steadfast love and rejoice in our salvation.  My life, my very breath, is in his hands.  Even if all I ever see in that pot sitting on the window sill is three long, skinny leaves, it reminds me that there is hope and He is faithful, for he has dealt bountifully with me.

Practical Ways to Help With Harvey Relief (If You Are a Stay-at-Home-Houston Mama Like Me)

Like many other Houstonians whose homes have not been adversely affected by Harvey, I have watched this enormous storm (which is still dumping massive amounts of rain on my friends in East Texas and South Louisiana as I write this) absolutely slam into the lives of those around me for 5 days straight.  I have watched it deluge neighborhoods, destroy homes, swallow vehicles, separate families, terrify children and adults, and reduce friends, family, and strangers to tears.  I am so done with Harvey, and I am absolutely READY to get out there and volunteer, donate, demo houses, build, paint…whatever it is.  Gimme a sledgehammer and a plate of cookies.  Let’s love people, bring relief to families, and rebuild Houston.

My husband is on staff at a church, and one of the things that I was blown away by is that he and the rest of the staff were told by our pastor, “Your job for the month of September is disaster relief.  Period.  Drop everything else.  We are going to LOVE FIRST.”  He spent last night at NRG Arena (one of our large-scale shelters here in Houston) helping with mental health services for 14 hours.  And before he walked out the door to go, he apologized to me that I couldn’t go with him.  Because I wanted to.  Like the vast majority of our city right now, I want so much to help. 

That being said, it's not exactly practical when you are staying home with 2 active, small kiddos.  So, I’ve been brainstorming (and getting some great ideas from others) on what I can do.  Because as I have come to realize, there is plenty I can do.  Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t do anything much to help because of the stage of life you are in because God has equipped us with an abundance of gifts, talents, and resourcefulness to do great and lovely things all over the place.  He has given us everything we need for life and godliness.  Or as I often heard growing up, “God doesn’t call the equipped.  He equips the called.” 

So here it is, my list of possible things that one can do, that most people can do, no matter what.  --

1)     Babysit for friends who need to do work on their homes OR switch off babysitting with friends who also have kiddos but want to volunteer as well.  People, babysitting is expensive.  Help each other out.  (You could also offer to bring a meal and wash a few loads of laundry while you're at it.)

2)     Invite a family to stay in your home.  Yes, that is a commitment.  Yes, it’s involved.  God has gifted us with much – how can we not share what we have?  Do you have to have a large house?  Nope.  Do you have to cook gourmet meals every night?  Nope.  Do you have to have a perfectly CLEAN house?  Absolutely NOPE.  (And y’all, I’m speaking to myself here.)  Share your perfect mess with others.  Share your space.  Give generously.  We have been given and blessed with much.  You have too much to offer not to share -- warmth, space, food, electricity, a place to sleep, and your presence. 

3)      Donate online.  Cash/money is best in many situations.  It is easiest for the people doing the work on the ground to assess what is needed and to make the purchases.  Plus, you don’t waste any money or time on shipping.  Unless you have Amazon Prime and know exactly what types of products are needed.  Then click away.  (Somebody made one of the flooded neighborhoods here an Amazon Wishlist.)

4)      Purchase canned goods, non-perishables, cleaning and baby supplies from Aldi.  Here is my shameless plug for Aldi because, if you are on a budget or if you aren’t, you can get quality products for ridiculously low prices.  Load up on whatever is needed for shelters for a fraction of the price.  At least 40% less.  Which means more absolutely necessary items for people who desperately need them.

5)      Make food for people.  Evacuees, neighbors, the National Guard, Cajun Navy, boys with bass boats, out-of-state volunteers, first responders, medical personnel, people manning shelters and distribution centers.  They all need to eat.  It doesn’t take much to whip up a couple pots of spaghetti, grab a few bags of salad, a few loaves of garlic bread, and some cookies.  My neighborhood is helping to do this for a National Guard group in Brenham (which is an hour and a half away) -- everyone is bringing food to one woman's house, and she is transporting the food up to 280 National Guard members for dinner.  Store bought or homemade….it truly doesn’t matter.  I don’t know too many people who will refuse a batch of boxed brownies.  (Although a batch of fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies never hurt ANYBODY.  Ooh, and tacos.)  Everyone loves tacos.)

6)      Involve your kids.  If you let them, kids LOVE to help.  They truly enjoy feeling useful and they love to know that what they do is significant.  Let them help you make those cookies and help take them to your neighbors.  Or police officers.  Or grocery store clerks.  Last night, my almost-5 and almost-2 year olds were making cards for evacuees.  Later today, they are going with my husband and I to our church distribution center to help in whatever way we can.  (Granted, 

      in this case, the church happens to have a playground where I can let them play if they get a little crazy.)  But we are going to encourage them to help.  We watched an episode of Daniel Tiger today about hurricanes and “looking for helpers” (Season 6, Episode 4 if you are wondering….on Amazon Prime Video), and tomorrow we are going to put “being helpers” into practice as best we can.  It will be imperfect, I can almost guarantee you.  But it's an opportunity to teach and model and to "train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it." (Proverbs 22:6)  And what a beautiful lesson for them to learn early in life -- "Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth." (I John 3:18)

7)      Have a cookout for your street.  Again with the food, but I have always devoutly believed and seen firsthand that food brings people together.  It doesn’t matter if it is family, friends, or absolute strangers.  And that can’t happen enough in this world.  Make it a potluck if you can’t handle the whole thing.  Pull your grill out into your front yard or onto your driveway.  Buy a ton of burgers and hot dogs from Sams, and grill those puppies up.  Find ways to love your neighbors.  They live right next to you.  Relationship matters.  

8)      Be an armchair quarterback.  And no, I don’t mean the annoying kind who yells at the TV because someone made a ridiculous play with an honestly very strangely-shaped ball.  I mean the kind who is sitting at home while the kiddos take a nap or are in bed at night, scrolling through their phone or on their computer.  Use your powers of scrolling, clicking, calling, and texting for good from the comfort (or craziness) of your own home.  Make some phone calls.  Text a friend.  Use your social media platforms thoughtfully.

a.       Share articles that might be helpful for neighbors dealing with flooded homes.   It can be overwhelming to have to deal with filing insurance claims, contacting FEMA, ripping out baseboards and flooring and sheet rock, throwing out furniture – there are plenty of people who have done this before and can help break down this mind-blowing process down into manageable, bite-sized chunks.

b.       Share articles that might be helpful to neighbors (near and far) who are wanting to donate to reputable organizations.  People like to know that the organizations they are giving to are using their money for what they say they are using it for.

c.       Share the names of shelters, their addresses, and what they are specifically requesting.  Shoot, call up some of the shelters you find online and ASK them what they are specifically in need of (and if it changes each day).  Money is the best thing to donate to organizations.  Specifically-requested goods are the best thing for shelters at the moment.  Donating items that have NOT been thought out or requested often does more harm than good.  So help your neighbors (and yourself) by doing a little research and then sharing with those around you.  People are looking to help.  Help them make wise decisions about how to spend their money and their resources. 

d.       If you are a part of a local neighborhood Facebook group, share some of the above things in your group.  My neighborhood FB group is AMAZING for that.  Immediately after the storm, everyone shared about what stores were open, which roads were cleared, when gas was being sold, and where we could find bread and milk.  But very quickly, the conversation turned to “Does anyone know who needs volunteers?” “Did you know such-and-such church is now a shelter?  They need blankets and pillows and canned items and diapers.” “Does anyone know what donations they are taking down at the high school?”  “Who wants to make food for the firefighters?”  It’s been endearing to see.

e.     Band together with other church members or your mommy-group or other people whom you are in community with to do a donation drive for specific requested items.

f.      Connect people in your network.  People are looking to help all over the nation.  I have been connected on social media by friends to people I have never met, wanting to make donations to shelters and distribution centers on the ground in Houston.  I happen to have connections to a large church that is doing a LOT in this area.  So people who I have never met are sending tote bags and kiddie pajamas and checks to organizations, shelters, distribution centers, and churches who I know are reputable people.  Make yourself available for that.  If you are not in SE Texas, find your SE Texan friends and ask THEM what is needed.  They can tell you.

I was talking to my daughter, Hannah, tonight.  She just got up out of bed after I had tucked her in because “I need to tell you something really important, Mommy!”  What did she want to tell me? "Jesus is who we worship.  Jesus is our King.  He chases away the darkness, and the light comes!"  And friends, oh my goodness, He does.  When God's children show unconditional love to those around them, He radiates his light through us.  Don’t allow anyone to quench that. You are NOT useless in your home when it comes to hurricane relief.  Or loving your neighbors.  Truth be told, there isn't a single one of these practical "tips" that couldn't be practiced all year round.  Even when there isn't a hurricane. So let your light shine.  People can see it from your house.

“And God is able to make all grace abound to you, 

so that having all sufficiency, 

in all things, at all times, 

you may abound in every good work.” 

– II Corinthians 9:8

The Valley of the Shadow of Death

“…even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” ~ Psalm 23

A little note – This blog is much more on the long, serious, and even graphic side, but it’s also been a very long time coming, and it has just been our very real life.  Lately, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about some of the most sobering things that have happened to our family this year.  I’ve been thinking for quite awhile now that I need to write about them, but just hadn’t felt like the time was right, like my words or thoughts were ready, and they still may not be. All I know is that I feel particularly compelled to share our journey through “the valley of the shadow of death” in hopes that our story may bring hope to someone going through something similar.

*************************************************

I have been thinking a lot about October 15^th & 16^th, 2014.  Last year, around that time, Greg & I realized we were losing our 2^nd sweet baby.  (We are currently blessed with our fun-loving, almost 3-year old, Hannah, and waiting to welcome #3 into our little home in about a month, little Madeline Austen, a gift we are so grateful for.)

We had been trying for about 7 months to get pregnant, and we were OVERJOYED when, a few days before we left for our Indonesia mission trip, that little blue plus-sign popped up on the pregnancy test.  We never had a worry about traveling across the world while pregnant – people do it all the time, I wasn’t feeling sick at all, and Greg and I had traveled to the Middle East when I was 3 months pregnant with Hannah with no issues, so we proceeded as planned.  Greg, Hannah, and I spent a wonderful couple of weeks in Indonesia, then visited some good friends in Malaysia for a few days.  We had a few issues getting home, an unexpected night spent in Tokyo on the way back, but it wasn’t until the flight from Tokyo back home (October 15/16) that I really started noticing that something was wrong.  I was bleeding.  Not a little.  But a lot.  To the point where, as soon as I hit a wireless signal on the tarmac in Houston, I called my doctor’s office and scheduled an appointment for the next morning.  I just knew that something was wrong with our little 7-week old munchkin.  Greg was sweet, trying to keep me calm – his approach to crisis is not to assume anything before it’s confirmed, which I love about him.  Mine is to assume the worst is a possibility, so that I can prepare myself ahead of time – then if it doesn’t turn out to be so, all is well and life turns out better than expected. 

At the appointment the next day, I tried my best to hold back the tears.  The doctor came in, and he was very compassionate and sweet.  He did an ultrasound, but assured me that everything was probably fine.  He could see a gestational sac, a yolk sac.  He couldn’t hear a heartbeat yet, but He wasn’t worried. He just wanted me to come back on Monday to make sure.  I still wasn’t convinced.  I went home, and over the next couple of days, the bleeding worsened and the intense abdominal pain began.  Early that Sunday morning, the pain woke me up and I just cried and cried.  I think I knew then that our little one wasn’t going to make it.  I was absolutely heartbroken, and Greg just held me while I sobbed.  We had prayed and prayed for this baby.  I waited for the “Why, God?” questions to start playing over and over in my heart, but they didn’t come.  Just grieving.

I went in for my appointment on Monday (October 20), and Peaches, the ultrasound technician, ran the ultrasound while I stared at the screen.  She looked for a minute, and then I looked at her face, and I still remember her speaking to me so gently, “Honey, I don’t see a baby. It looks like you are in the middle of a miscarriage. I am so sorry.”  She explained some more to me, but I honestly don’t remember all the rest of what she said.  Basically, that it would still take time for the process to finish, and that it could happen anywhere from immediately to a few weeks from then.  I remember being so sad, feeling a heaviness in my chest, but I didn’t cry. 

The next day, I wrote this to the Lord:

"God, I am so sad.  But…I feel like you are protecting my heart.  My heart isn’t as burdened and pained as I know that it could be.  I feel like you are enfolding it in peace and rest and gentleness.  I don’t cry a lot, but I cried the other day with Greg.  I trust you.  I know you have a plan.  And it’s not just intellectual – I really trust you and know that you are in control.  I’m not asking why.  I know you love me.  I know you love Greg.  I know you are faithful and good and true.  I struggle with how I should feel, though.  I feel like I should hurt more, shut up in my room, in a puddle on the floor, inconsolable.  Part of me wonders if I’m an unfeeling mother because I’m not, but then your Spirit tells me that it is you, not me, that is lifting the burden and whispering words of rest into my ear.  Listening to worship music makes me cry.  I feel overcome with love and gratefulness to you, but again, I wonder at that response.  I feel like normal humans have a different response.  Like I should be mad at you.  Furious.  I shouldn’t be talking to you.  I should feel further from you.  But I feel so close to you and so, so loved." 

I couldn’t understand this response.  I was expecting a complete and utter breakdown, a withdrawal from society. I was expecting to not be able to celebrate pregnancy or newborns for a long time without pangs of anger, hurt, and jealousy.  I kept expecting it to hit me out of nowhere. But it never came.

I spent time clinging to Scripture.  Now, I wish I could say that it was normal for me to be in the Word every day, but it most certainly wasn’t.  God, in His graciousness, had placed me in a Bible study in the very beginning of September, and had started me memorizing Scripture in a way I hadn’t in quite some time.  I was camped out in Ephesians 1.  “Praise be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing.”  Those words replayed over and over and over in my head.  Even in the midst of a mother’s worst fear, I knew those words were true.  He HAD blessed us.  With an unending list of so many good and perfect things.  I could not even think to question Him now.  Those words (that can seem trite so often) – “He has a plan” – I truly believed in my heart of hearts.  And I know that He has had one all along.  He certainly doesn’t need to prove it to me. I went to my women’s Bible study and this strong, totally fierce, godly woman spoke Isaiah 61 over us – I took it to heart. 

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

    because the Lord has anointed me

    to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

    to proclaim freedom for the captives

    and release from darkness for the prisoners,^[a]

² to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

    and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

³     and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

    instead of ashes,

the oil of joy

    instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

    instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

    a planting of the Lord

    for the display of his splendor.

⁴ They will rebuild the ancient ruins

    and restore the places long devastated;

they will renew the ruined cities

    that have been devastated for generations.

And on it continued.  So many promises in this passage! So many encouragements to me where my heart was.  A crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.  Somehow, the Lord would still display His splendor.  He would rebuild ruins and restore what was devastated. And let me be clear-- I certainly did not know if He would give me another child.  But He is a God in the business of restoration.  He is faithful. He is just.  He is sovereign. He is good.  And my soul could rejoice in Him.

Looking back, I can see God's preparation of our hearts as we got ready for our Indonesia trip. The only talk that Greg and I were asked to prepare together was for a fellowship of mothers at the church in Jakarta.  Our topic?  How to live as a woman of integrity in the midst of trial.  The reference from Scripture we were given?  Job and his wife.  We spent a very rewarding couple of hours teaching and talking with the women of the church on what it looked like to live differently than Job's wife.  Greg and I spent several hours preparing for that talk.  We had to live every bit of what we had taught within a week and a half of teaching it, but we were armed with spiritual armor.

Already, I have talked with so many friends and acquaintances who have been through and are even currently going through the same losses.  So many of us.  So many of them have spoken deeply into my life with wisdom.  I am reminded of 2 Corinthians 1. These words ring with truth more than they ever have in my life before.

³ Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, ⁴ who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. ⁵ For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.^[a] 6 If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. ⁷ Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.

⁸ For we do not want you to be unaware, brothers,^[b] of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. ⁹ Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. ¹⁰ He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.”

My takeaways?   

1)      He is the Father of MERCY and God of all comfort. Oh yes, dear friend, He is.  His presence is the deepest, most soothing balm.     

2)      We don’t live for ourselves.  We live in community.  And the Lord uses that community’s sufferings and afflictions to minister to one another and show each other the deepest love.

3)      There is burdening so beyond our strength that it causes us to feel as if we have received the sentence of death.  We are weak, but He is strong. 

4)      There is a great hope.  We will experience comfort.  We can rely on a God who RAISES THE DEAD.  He will deliver us again.

Now, I have to say that as I type that, I am a little nervous.  Even in the midst of surprising joy, I grieved (and still grieve) the loss of that little life.  I have several friends who have been through miscarriages and through having stillborn children.  Some amazing people who have been devastated, cried for months, gone through deep depression, not been able to lift their heads or feel they could breathe for days, weeks, and months on end.  My fear is that my own story sounds like an invalidation of other stories.  I certainly do not consider myself “closer to God” because that didn't happen to me.  In fact, I know that is not the case.  God revealed His glory so completely that I could never imagine it coming from anywhere but His hand.

The other thing I did not want was for anyone to think that the only reason I felt I could share this story is because I am pregnant again.  We are due with another little one, almost exactly one year after the miscarriage.  Perhaps some might think, “Well, obviously you can’t be that sad because you’re having another one.”  Little Madeline is due October 20^th, but I assure you, she is not a replacement to my second little munchkin.  I am overwhelmed by God’s gift to us in Madeline.  I am overwhelmed at God’s gifts to us even through the loss of our second child, though.  I experienced joy, yes, JOY, beyond all comprehension. Where on earth could something like that come except through a gracious and great God?

Besides Scripture, the most healing thing to me has been music.  I listen to music constantly. During this time, I immersed myself in words that spoke truth.  I was given an Ellie Holcomb CD by a new friend, and I am surprised that it still plays.  I listened to worship music and bawled my eyes out one day, sitting cross-legged on my couch during Hannah’s naptime.  One song really became my psalm.  Aaron Keyes sings a beautiful rendition of “Sovereign Over Us.”  I felt like it spoke words that I emotionally and spiritually could not at the time, but it was again, a promise of hope.

There is strength within the sorrow, There is beauty in our tears
You meet us in our mourning, With a love that casts out fear
You are working in our waiting, Sanctifying us
When beyond our understanding, You're teaching us to trust

Your plans are still to prosper, You have not forgotten us
You're with us in the fire and the flood
Faithful forever, Perfect in love
You are sovereign over us

You are wisdom unimagined, Who could understand your ways
Reigning high above the heavens, Reaching down in endless grace
Youʼre the Lifter of the lowly, Compassionate and kind
You surround and You uphold me, Your promises are my delight

Even what the enemy means for evil
You turn it for our good, You turn it for our good and for your glory
Even in the valley You are faithful
Youʼre working for our good, Youʼre working for our good and for your glory

My friend, if you are going through the valley of the shadow, know that He is there.  In the midst of tragedy and the deepest despair and disappointment, HE IS THERE in the fire and the flood.  

He has not forgotten us. And HE.  IS. GOOD.

Tea Parties, Cults, & Flying Puppies

I have always thought of my life in terms of one great adventure, but yes, there are days when being a stay-at-home mom tends towards the more mundane tasks.  Doing dishes, finishing laundry, making beds, picking up tutus and matchbox cars that are strewn across my living room (yep, my girl is mildly obsessed with both)....you know the drill.

But the last 24 hours has certainly not been one of those mundane days.

Yes, I DID take back my house from the crazy, junked-up mania that began before the IF:Gathering happened.  That was a big deal.  I cleaned Hannah's room.  I cleaned MY room.  I cleaned the kitchen. I sort of cleaned the guest room.  And I took back the living room.  My brain cells are starting to settle back down as my surroundings do the same.

But what has my last day looked like?

1)  For the past two days, Hannah and I have indulged in having tea parties.  With milk and king cake instead of tea and crumpets, but I will tell you that king cake does JUST FINE as a stand-in.  It has been her favorite thing during the past couple of days.  She sits perched on her knees in her daddy's chair at the table, trying her hardest to daintily sip milk from her teeny tiny cup.  It is so beyond precious.  (And when she spills, she says, "Uh oh, Mommy! Ah made a mess!" and waits expectantly for me to clean it up.  Gets that from both of her parents, I suppose.  Legend has it that her daddy refused to eat dinner as a child until his FEET were clean.  And I supposedly woke up in the morning, turned on my music, and started cleaning my bedroom every single morning.  Just call me Snow White.  Not sure exactly what has happened since.)  But the tea parties have been divine.  Hannah asked for tea parties three times yesterday.

2)  After church last night, Greg, Hannah, and I needed to make a grocery run, so we stopped by WalMart for a quick grab-and-go.  Well, that's what we thought it was going to be.  I took my cart and ran for the grocery section, Greg took Hannah in his cart and ran off in the opposite direction to look at movies and bicycles and probably fishing equipment or something like that.  He and Hannah love WalMart waaaaaay more than I do.  After I finished my rounds and had picked up all the makings for meatball subs, salad, and cheese soup, I was trotting through the baby clothes section on my way to find Greg and Hannah, when I came across them suddenly, and Greg was deep in conversation with 3 very nicely dressed young men, one of whom was very earnestly presenting something.  He was holding what looked to be a Bible and I heard the words "last great mystery" and "I bet you've never heard anything like that in your church before."

Now, my interest was super peaked because, in my past life, I taught high-school world religions, so I love learning about different religions and beliefs, and I truly enjoy dialoguing with people about why they believe what they believe.  Often, many people haven't really thought that part through -- they just believe things because they grew up that way and their parents or church told them to believe that way.  Other times, they know exactly why they think the way they do.  Either way it's an interesting conversation.  Anyway, I came in on the tail end of the conversation, so I missed most of what Jeff was talking about, but he was very passionate about a few things according to Greg:  to be a follower of the TRUE church, one must follow the Sabbath on Saturday, God is both God the Father AND God the Mother (yes, there are at least 2 gods), most of the churches today have fallen away from true Christianity, one must not follow communion/the Lord's Supper, but must observe Passover on a regular basis instead, and in fact, there are several feasts of the New Covenant that we should be following regularly.  I also researched their view of who God is afterwards, and they believe that Jesus Christ has already returned a second time with the name Christ Ahnsahnghong to start the World Mission Society Church of God in 1964 in South Korea.  So the founder of this group claims to be the Second Coming of Christ.

So...Greg and I had stumbled upon some members of a cult.  Anytime a group claims to be members of a major world religion but then follows essential beliefs that are strikingly different from that major world religion, they would technically qualify as a cult.  (There are some other definitions too, but this is a pretty basic one.)  This one was just a mix of Christianity, Judaism, New Age teaching, and Gnosticism.

Whenever I come across people like this, I find that my reaction tends to be a mix of interest, amusement, deep sadness, and frustration.  Interest because I truly want to know why a person believes the things that they do, no matter what those things might be.  Amusement because, while I know that Christianity also sounds SO far-fetched to so many, in studying the historical evidence (both internal and external) for Biblical teachings, as well as a multitude of other extrabiblical backing, as well as testimony from my own life and those around me, I find that Christianity is in fact SO believable compared to other religions. It seems to be in such stark contrast to a group who started in 1964, believe that their modern-day founder is Jesus Christ, the Second Coming and Savior of the World, and that they have so many "new" secrets for the world that thousands of years of civilization never stumbled upon until now.  There is just something to be said for the wisdom of the ages passed down throughout history.  And then, I am saddened, because while it would be easy to make a joke about what Jeff was presenting to us, he REALLY BELIEVES IT.  He believes in that as surely as I believe in Jesus Christ and His perfect, sacrificial, saving grace.  And I know that what he believes is in direct contradiction to the Holy Scripture (and Jeff uses the NIV translation), when it says, "The Lord our God; the Lord is one" as well as so many other things. It just made me so sad to see someone so devoted to something so obviously false when there IS true saving grace to be had in the biblical Jesus Christ.  Then, I get frustrated because I am just ticked at this Ahnsahnghong guy for lying to everyone about being the Savior of the World.  What in the world makes someone DO that?

Greg very kindly listened, tried to discuss a couple of obvious twists of Scripture with him, but Jeff was so bent on finishing his spiel, I don't think he heard a word.  After a few minutes, we parted ways, shaking hands and later, shaking heads, wondering if the right things had been said, wondering if more should have been said.  There is always so much to think about in those discussions -- but I never want to be closed off from them.  And I never want to stop seeing people as people.  Because they are.  Created in God's image just like the rest of us.  It's so tempting to stuff others in the "them" box in an "us vs. them" world and forget that they are human.  But we can't do that.  We have to share truth in love.

3)  On a lighter note, we then stood in line at WalMart with all of humanity.  There were 3 lines open, and as always, we made a beeline for self-checkout.  There were only 2 other lines open, and they each had about 15 carts in each of them, so self-checkout seemed like a prudent choice.  Well, as we waited in our line, the self-checkout counters started dropping like flies, going offline, computers breaking, and red lights a-blinkin'.  Until we were down to 1 self-checkout line.  We were a colorful group -- nothing desegregates every division of humanity like a trip to WalMart.  And nothing can bond said group like a super-long line, crashing check-out lanes, and thankfully, lots and lots of humor.  People were sharing carts with each other, Greg was teaching Hannah what all of the medicines were on the counter next to us ("Daddy, what's dis?" "That medicine is for when you are sneezing.  That medicine is for when you aren't pooping enough.  That medicine is for when you are pooping too much.").  A lady in front of us was wearing a head scarf, a mask, and two ports of some type coming out of her chest and arm -- she and her husband both had armfuls of shopping goods, presumably because they, like us, thought they were taking a quick trip to the store.  If I was her husband, I would have been SO grumpy.  But those two were cracking us up, being sweet in general, and just saying, "Everyone just needs to calm down.  We're all in line.  We're not going anywhere.  What's the big deal?  We can wait for a few minutes!"  And that seemed to become the attitude of the others surrounding us. We waited in line for 30 minutes.  But Greg and I agreed that we would totally do that again because it really WAS so much fun. :)

4)  Hannah just became a backseat driver.  Yes, she's two.  But she told the puppy groomer today that she was 6.  That explains why she knows how to drive all of a sudden.  Her new thing is to say, "Be careful, Mommy!  Be careful!" and in the same breath, "Mommy, go faster!  Go faster!"  And she did it in the car with Greg last night too.  Oh yeah -- and she also told me, "I need music, Mommy!"  And then, "Dance, Mommy, dance!"  So we did.

5)  Last of all, I did take the dogs to get groomed today.  Both my Pomeranian, Chooch, and my Shih Tzu, Pippa, looked...well, terrible.  They tell you to brush everyday, but I just forget to.  So something needed to be done, and off to the groomers I went. Well, I went to pick them up, and I had recruited Hannah to be "in charge" of Pippa, while I was in charge of taking care of Chooch after they got back into the car.

I'm a bad doggie mom.  I didn't buckle my dogs in.  I never have.  I don't even really know what protocol is there.  Hannah did great because Pippa sat in her lap in her carseat for the entire ride home -- Pippa licked her, Hannah giggled, but Hannah held on.

I'm afraid the same can't be said about poor Chooch.  He was free to roam about the cabin.  And boy, did he.  We were driving on the Beltway about to exit, when all of a sudden, the truck in front of me decided to slam on their brakes.  So of course, I had to do the same.  The last thing I remember is a little, red, fox-like creature flying through the air over the console, bouncing off of the gear shift, SHIFTING the gear shift into neutral, and me having a near heart-attack.  Like me, he was freaked out (but otherwise okay), so he starts trying to climb on top of me immediately.  I, in the mean time, can't figure out why my car ISN'T MOVING, but is making growling noises every time I hit the accelerator.  And there are a few impatient cars right on my tail.  Oh.  The gear shift.  Oh, that should probably be in "drive." (Did I mention that Hannah is giggling hysterically as all of this is taking place?)  I finally got situated, calmed Chooch down enough to where he wasn't trying to sit on my head, but he still insisted on being in my lap with his head under my left armpit.  Which meant his little butt was in my face. Favorite ride home EVER.

So, all that to say, life is indeed an adventure!  We just got home, and I am one tired mama.  Maybe I will take a nap.  Hannah is supposed to be asleep, but I just sneezed, and she yelled, "BESS YOU, MOMMY!" from her room.  So I guess she's not asleep.

If all else fails, I'm eating meatball subs and cheese soup tonight for dinner.

Highly Addictive (Dare I Say, Healthy?) Deliciousness -- Black Bean & Feta Salsa

So, I received my Food Network magazine in the mail a few days ago, and I finally had a couple of minutes to flip through it.  Came across this little pullout -- I may try a few of them at some point because they look like yummy, wonderful comfort food.  I mean, who wouldn't want to try Stuffed Italian Meatballs or Jamaican Meatballs or Mole Meatballs.  Not so sure about the Swordfish Meatballs yet, but 1 out of 50 isn't bad.

But instead of posting meatball recipes, I am going to share with you a healthy recipe.  Well....it's healthy if you don't consume the entire bowl of it in one sitting.  Which, I warn you, is a distinct possibility.  It is SO GOOD.  I would say that it's life-changing, but since my last blog was about something that was actually life-changing, I'm going to go with.....paradigm-shifting?  As in, even if you don't like healthy food, you will like this (and I say that as someone who ADORES unhealthy food of many kinds).

Black Bean & Feta Salsa

1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup sugar to taste
2 tsp. garlic salt
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
1 can corn, drained (a normal size can, not a teeny can -- 14 or 15 oz)
8 oz feta cheese
1 bunch scallions, chopped
3 chopped tomatoes (I used Roma)
A few dashes of chili powder and pepper

Whisk first 4 ingredients until blended.  Add the rest, mix well, and chill.  (Easiest. Directions. Ever.  And it even tells you to chill at the end.  I think I will.)

Then try to behave yourself and eat somewhat in moderation.

(Thank you to my dear friend, Nena, who was so kind to share this.)

Spiritual High 2.0 (or "If God is real, then why don't we take the land, people?")

I am still processing this weekend.  My thoughts are a little jumbled, so I am hoping they will sort themselves out on "paper."

This weekend, I took part in a gathering of women called the IF:Gathering.  If you read what they are all about on their website, it says, "We exist to gather, equip and unleash the next generation of women to live out their purpose." I actually attended a livestream of the event last year, not knowing at all what to expect, but just feeling deeply in my soul that this would be a life-changing time in my life.  And trust me, I know that sounds so melodramatic.  Especially if you have grown up in church like I have.  We are really, REALLY used to (maybe TOO "used to") things being life-changing.  So often, we just feel like we are giving lip-service to something that can't be done anymore and that if "it" is supposedly happening to someone, there are some really, really good chances that "it" is fake.  "I am on such a spiritual high!'"  And everyone nods their heads in agreement knowing that they will get over it soon enough.  Too bad those don't last, right?

Well, for the first time in my life, I have been on a spiritual high (I really hate even calling it that!) that doesn't seem to be ending, nor does the end look to be anywhere in sight.   It started building a few months before the IF:Gathering in 2014, and it hasn't stopped yet.  That's over a year, people.  Where I come from, spiritual highs don't last that long.  A month or so, tops.  If you're lucky.

This gathering of women has challenged me in so many ways, ways that I feel the breath of the Holy Spirit MOVING ALL OVER IT.  (And I'm not even Pentecostal, though some of my very dearest friends are :)) It was something that I hadn't experienced in a long time.  And that's a bit of a big deal because, if I'm going to go with the head or the heart, usually I'm all about my head...all about knowledge and learning and facts and what I see.  I am not a girl who is usually guided by what seems to be the emotional.  At least, not most of the time.  (Shoot....I AM female, as my husband jokingly reminds me at times.)  So I am skeptical ("discerning" sounds nicer, but it's not always true) of things that might be contrived or emotionally heightened or any of that.  I usually steer far, far away.  But I knew in my heart (and in my head) that the Lord was moving through this.

In the past year, I have been challenged to embrace God's calling on my life.  Yes, as a wife.  Yes, as a mother.  Yes, as a woman.  But even more, as a unique individual created in the image of God who was created with a perfect purpose, one-of-a-kind calling, burning passions, and distinct giftedness to be used for His glory, even when that moves me outside of my comfort zone -- all of us are.  Now, what did that look like?

It looked like a lot of things in my life last year:

1)  Trying to figure out where my passion was -- what had the Lord broken my heart for and where did it intersect with my passions & giftedness?

2)  Starting to blog again.  Notice it took a year before I actually did that one.

3)  Actually allowing myself to dream about writing a book regarding things that I am passionate about -- friendship, different cultures and races, taking risks, building community, food, hospitality.  

4)  Vocally encouraging other women to pursue the big dreams that God has given them even if they seem impossible.

It doesn't seem like too many things when I write it out, but they were story-changers for me.  I couldn't stop talking about what I had learned.  I couldn't stop sharing my passions.  And I started to see places that God may have carved out for me to step into in faith.

Then this year happened, and I was asked if I would host the local livestream of IF at our church.  I am passionate about this message.  So yes.  I said yes.  Even though I have never planned an "event" before (and truthfully, this was a good event to ease into since I didn't have to take care of any speakers or lodging, etc.) and I get a bit nervous speaking in front of groups of my peers.  I have definitely been a little on edge, being completely out of my comfort zone, but I knew that God wanted IF at our church, and I knew that He was going to do something amazing with it.  I just KNEW.  (Again, with the intangible "knowing" and believing -- but He made it very clear.  Just roll with me if you are a facts person, like me.)  We had almost 60 women come, several who said it was just completely on faith because they, like many of us, had no idea what this IF thing was all about. It just sounded like a place where God was moving, and we wanted in, along with over thousands and thousands of other women all around the world.

So what did we learn this year?  Still a similar theme (pursuing God's calling on our lives with boldness and courage), but here are some things we heard:

1)  From Jennie Allen, Angie Smith, and Jo Saxton -- We struggle when faced with God's direction and ask ourselves 3 questions, the same questions that the 10 spies asked when refusing to enter the land of Canaan in the story of Joshua:  Am I enough (to accomplish this)?  Is it safe?  What will it cost me?  (Gulp.  Guilty.  Of asking all 3.)  Instead of asking like Joshua and Caleb when confronting the giants in the Promised Land, "If God is real like we KNOW He is, why don't we take the land?  He told us to go.  So let's go!"  How many times have I utterly failed to have that type of attitude when faced with a little bit of an obstacle to God's clear direction?  Which questions will I choose to ask myself?  Do I see myself as a grasshopper who can make no difference in this world?  Or do I know that I can face giants because I walk in confidence through the Holy Spirit?  An entire generation of Israelites missed out because they thought that they were too small.  Their mindset held them captive, nothing else.  I need to MAKE MY LIFE ASK BETTER QUESTIONS.  

2)  From Rebekah Lyons -- Revival is not an accident.  The price is crying out to God and asking and grieving for what is not okay.  God has all the riches of heaven at His disposal -- do we want it?  But the repentance starts in us.  Me.  As an individual.  I can't look at everyone else and just say, "Repent, you crazy world!  Stop doing all of these bad things!  Stop sinning!  Act better!" when I do not have a repentant heart myself, day after day.  Seriously.  (Actually, that's not even the way I should talk about repentance to the world at all.)  I am not nearly as repentant as I should be.  More than I used to be, but still....not as repentant as I should be.  

3)  From Jen Hatmaker -- Our limits blind us to God's capabilities.  We place too high of a value of what we can or cannot do, and we don't believe in the God who LIVES IN US if we are a follower of Christ.  I don't have to have my full confidence in myself, or in my puny understanding of who He is, but simply in the God who lives in me.  Faith doesn't mean there is no struggle or doubt.  It just means that I don't have to demand an explanation from God for every single thing that happens.  I just don't.  The people who are the  most humble and least arrogant believers are the ones who seem to be the most okay with God being completely beyond our comprehension.  And then there's this -- "Don't wait until you have full possession and knowledge to take full possession of God."  He is good, in the good and the bad.  He is faithful.  Give your heart permission to trust Him.  (And trust me, as someone who just went through a miscarriage a few months ago, I can tell you that this is true.  All of it.  He is GOOD in the bad times.  So good and faithful.)

And then there was the challenge to real-life racial reconciliation.  To have hard conversations about real things that people around us are dealing with on a daily basis.  On things that I am dealing with on a daily basis.  We watched a real one happen in real-time, and it happened in love and the spirit of grace and understanding, and that brought us, all of us, to our knees because it is possible to have those hard talks.  But we are praying for something that IS truly impossible without God's help and we feel like we are asking for....everything.

During the course of the weekend, I was just asked to consider, over and over again -- "Do I believe that the Lord will grant me what He has promised in His Word?"  And after much consideration, I have to say, I DO. (Writing this down so that I remember it.....scribble, scribble, scribble....)

So here are my action steps, at least for today -- 

1)  Being open to divine appointments & friendships (read: quality time spent) with people who are complete strangers or even those who are not.  Can I even tell you how many times this has already happened since I chose my Word of the Year -- "fearless" -- in January? (And it literally just happened yesterday.  At the mall.  Complete stranger.  Did I mention I'm an introvert?)  Don't ever say there aren't opportunities -- in the past I know that I have just closed my eyes and ears to them.  Really, really trying not to do that anymore.

2)  Having a louder (but not more obnoxious) voice about issues that matter, like how to really love those who are different than me or those who are opposed to me or who disagree with me and wrestling with what that looks like because I really WANT TO KNOW.  So being an introvert by nature, having a loud voice is not my favorite go-to mode.  But I see more and more the need to be able to dialogue and have honest conversation without arguing or spitting out words that masquerade as love but are really mostly hateful and angry and that cannot sit in the same room with the peace and joy that Galatians 5 talks about.  And I don't mean that in a "yeah, peeeeeace, dude" sort of way.  I mean this legitimately.  Thoughtfully.  Biblically.  Lovingly.  Truthfully.

3)  Try new things.  Try HARD things.  Be willing to be inconvenienced sometimes.

Maybe there will be more, but this is a good start.  Call it a year-long spiritual high.  I hope it becomes the habit and pattern of my life.  Spiritual high 2.0.  I hope it never ends.  And I hope it's ridiculously contagious.