I hate it, excuse me, allow me to re-phrase that (as I don’t like my children to use the word hate)…I really, really, really don’t like it when things don’t go the way I want them to. As I’m walking through life all happy as a clam, happy like I just found a fry left in the bottom of the McDonald’s bag kind of happy, I loathe when there’s a bump in the road. Don’t you? Whether the bump is big or the bump is small, we don’t like interruption.
On our last night at the beach we took a walk with our little family along the shoreline. Michael promptly began his search for sand dollars left by the ocean solely for him to find. We came across quite a few along the way. All broken of course. The many, many broken ones didn’t deter him from running up and down the water’s edge examining each lump in the sand with hopeful expectation.
When I was younger my favorite structure to play on at the park was the slide. I hated roller coasters so it was the closest I would get to an adrenaline rush. It seems silly now- you wait in line, climb up the ladder, and then slide down. It’s so simple, so easy, so there has to be that one kid who decides it’s time to switch things up. He halts the line, goes to the front of the slide, and tries to climb it, proceeding to fall flat on his face. Soon enough everyone is lining up at the front of the slide, all falling flat on their faces (myself included).
Every mother has a catch phrase that she tells her kids from time to time. My mom’s was “You’re my favorite, but don’t tell the other kids”. Of course she did this to all of us- more times than not right in front of my other siblings- but it still made us feel special. I have found my own recently. From the time my boys were small I have told them that I loved them “with all of my heart”. I never thought anything of it, never thought that they would remember me by this, until my four year old recently developed this wonderful game out of it.
No matter how similar they were, they were not the same. They could never be the same. I have seen retelling and reimagining of stories that have been pulled off quite well (think Ever After) but I have also seen movies so desperate to be both the same story with a completely different cast that it was on the verge of painful to watch. They tried so hard to force an identical plot that it just became a cheap remake that will probably end up on Netflix one day or in the DVD bin at the Dollar Tree.
When I'm out in public, when I’m with both people I know well and people that I have just met. I wonder if they can tell that my life is different, if they see the change in my heart. “Do they know?”, I wonder over and over again, questioning if the people around me can see and feel Jesus living inside of me. I hope that the answer is yes.
It has been said, if you are looking for the negative you will find it and if you are looking for the positive you will find it.. so what are you looking for? What are you focusing on?
I was sitting in the sanctuary during an evening church service (like I had done a thousand times before) when both legs started tingling as if they were completely asleep. This of course had been happening on and off for awhile in various parts of my body but was more alarming now that it had been completely unprovoked and had happened just a few short weeks after waking with a completely limp arm that only regained function after flailing it around for what seemed like an eternity but would most likely have only been a few minutes.
If you think about it, all throughout scripture the number of stories that happen unplanned far outweigh the ones they had planned for. I am so thankful that Jesus wasn't too distracted for me when I needed Him.
We found out we were pregnant just shy of our one year anniversary. For the lack of a better word it was an unplanned "surprise" to which a plethora of emotions soon followed. At first there was just fear and anxiety but slowly those feelings shifted more toward excitement and joy. I was 21 years old; and it was not in "my plan" but as the days turned to weeks and the weeks into months I began dreaming about my little girl.
I am a perfectionist. It is a blessing and a curse. I not only like things to be perfectly in place but I need them to be. The Lord has been working on me so I am a bit better now but I can remember when my husband and I first got into ministry and thinking to myself I have to have it all together. I can’t make mistakes. I can’t fail because someone might see me.
This Thanksgiving, I went to the movies after all the eating (So.Many.Mashed.Potatoes…and pie, we can’t forget the pie.) was over with some of my church family. Before the movie started they played that opening scene that is at every movie, you know the one where you’re kind of racing over a film reel like you’re on a roller coaster and there's popcorn and candy everywhere? Most of us just sit there and watch it or wait for it to be over..but not my friend Lilly.
I had been journeying with a longtime friend, enjoying this crazy world that we live in, and building mass amounts of new memories for our friendship to enjoy for years to come when it hit. Unexpectedly and without warning our once happy trails had ended and we were in the thick of it. The forceful winds ripped us from the strength we once felt united hand in hand, the thunders erupted into a sound that was almost deafening, and the rain overflowed from the heavens like a faucet pushed to its limit. I was lost, disoriented, and unsure if I could even trust what I was seeing through the dense fog that surrounded me. It was everywhere, no matter which way I turned. There was no escaping it.
I have been on both sides of the irony crazy train. I have caught myself hysterically laughing when a person attempts correcting someone else's grammar by making an even more terrible grammatical offense. Or laughing at how irrational my own personal thoughts can get when I have to travel through darkness to turn off a light that I have forgotten about, so I can be in complete darkness before going to bed. But you see my struggle with social anxiety is ironic, too. I am called to lead and help a group of people all the while being afraid of large groups of people.
In the spirit of being transparent and honest, I’ll share a little bit about this season of life that I’m in. Last year, I entered into a relationship and it became very serious. So much so that we had looked at and tried on engagement rings, picked out songs and various other details of the wedding I was so expectant for. And then one day recently, I found myself no longer in that relationship. I was so unprepared for that loss and to be honest with you, I didn’t accept it. At the core of my being I so much did not want to be in the season I had just entered into that I was determined to find a way around it.
So, this thing doesn’t come with directions? Why is she crying? Why won’t she STOP crying? What do you mean she isn’t latched properly and furthermore, how does the word latch have to do with the incessant milk draining from my body as if I’m a dairy cow out to pasture? Why won’t she STOP crying? Her poop should be what color? You mean I have to actually examine it? Why won’t she STOP crying? Does this thing ever sleep? I’m sure she will never sleep. Ever.
We are a few months into our adoption process, and boy is it a process. Many things involve huge stacks of paper and long interviews but I think this process is the most rewarding of them all. Just the thought of holding our little girl puts a smile on my face and brings tears to my eyes. I love adoption. Everything about it. Well… almost everything.
I've never really been adept at finding my way around places. In fact, that's a very big understatement.
I have a habit of getting completely and utterly lost; you can ask some of my friends who have ever had to follow me or drive in the car with me...I'm working on it! When I was little it was even worse because I was also a wanderer. My mom would take me to the store with her and I would follow her around in my costumes and fancy dress up shoes (because yes...I was THAT kid) for the first few minutes, but then I would see other things that distracted me, and off I would go.
