A Letter to Addiction

Dear Addiction:

I'll be frank: I hate you.

I hate everything about you.

You showed up slowly; a red flag here, a red flag there.

You started to take shape in patterns and dependencies.

And then one day we woke up, and all I could think was how did we end up here?

Here, under two different roofs.

Here, under two different last names.

Here, now officially two separate family units.

You showed up silently, secretive, and unannounced.

You preyed on depression.

Your brutal mirage of seductions whispered:

Come escape with me, lets go to another place.  A numb place.  Another reality kind of place.

Come, forget this world, come forget restraint, I can offer you freedom:

Freedom from feeling the brokenness.  

Freedom from having to fight.

Freedom from the hollowness of your every day life.

You thought alas your work was done because all that remained were ashes.

But I have some news for you, a declaration actually:

It might look like you have won this round, but you will not win this battle.

To be honest, I thought for a long time victory was yours for the claiming...but then I finally realized there is a way to defeat you.

And that's here on this page and in this moment.  It is here in front of whomever might be reading this.  It is here, leveraging this platform you actually gave me, proclaiming with every fiber of my being: 

You will not win.  You will not take us down.  You will not be a period that ends my family tree.

You will not steal the gift of hope of new life and a new generation.

No, today.  Today, you lose...for we choose to keep on living.

To keep living in the tension that life is both beautiful and crazy broken.

To keep living while facing the sadness but not surrendering our hope.

To keep choosing to see the good, even amidst overwhelming darkness.

Yes, today, you lose, because we have chosen to keep on going.

***A note: I didn't want to post this. 

That's the thing with addiction, it makes you want to keep all your cards close to your chest; it makes you want to stay silent.

But that strategy is not working.  Addiction is out of control.  It is impacting everyone: the homeless and the CEO.  The stay at home mom and the freshman in high school.  The megachurch pastor and the former cop.  There are no absolutes and no guarantees that it will stay away from you or your family.  It could happen to me and it could happen to you.  

And on paper, it all looks and feels so bad.  Because the reality of addiction is heart breaking.  And it will leave you feeling as though all that is left of your world are ashes.  All the good, all the hope-all of it has been burned to the ground.

But I just have to believe there is a way to turn this war around.  That somehow and someway all of it can be leveraged for something good.  A catalyst perhaps, for our vision to be changed.  An opportunity to see things and people in a new way, in a new light.

Because the truth is, we are all addicts in some form or fashion.  I like to use that label and place it on others, but the reality is I deserve that label too.  I deserve it too because I am broken.  I deserve it too because I have dependencies.  I deserve it too because I am in desperate need of God and his redeeming grace.  I am no different.

I have a theory, and it is only a theory.  I am not a scholar; my mind is simple and figuring out how to solve the epidemic of addiction is far outside the limits of my comprehension.

What if...what if all that addiction brings with it and all those who are affected by it...what if they have been marked by a divine invitation?  What if it is an invitation from God himself?  An invitation that says, you, yes, you.  You think your world is crumbling from this darkness.  You think addiction has won.  But what if, what if, you trusted me in this storm?  What if I told you all this brokenness is a byproduct of my desire to get you to come to me?

Can you trust me?  Do you trust me?  Do you believe in my goodness even if it means I am sovereign over your worst nightmare? The addiction, the sickness, the divorce, the death, the abuse, the suicide?  Do you believe I am working in all of it?  Do you believe I can make good come from it?

Brennan Manning wrote this in his book The Ragamuffin Gospel:

“What makes authentic disciples is not visions, ecstasies, biblical mastery of chapter and verse, or spectacular success in the ministry, but a capacity for faithfulness. Buffeted by the fickle winds of failure, battered by their own unruly emotions, and bruised by rejection and ridicule, authentic disciples may have stumbled and frequently fallen, endured lapses and relapses, gotten handcuffed to the fleshpots and wandered into a far county. Yet, they kept coming back to Jesus.” 

Whatever storm you are in...just keep coming back.  Just keep showing up.  Just keep speaking.  This world needs you and God wants you.

5-Bullet Friday!

Hi Friends!

Happy Friday!  Can you believe we are more than half way through August?  Good grief this year is flying by.

It has been a hard week for our world-both here in the states and internationally. 

My mind is still processing all that went on.  So many people are using their social media platforms to speak out and speak up against the events that occurred in Charlottesville, which is good and important.  For me personally, I have refrained from posting--because this time, this event, it caused me to want to put my feet to work instead of my pen and keyboard.  It is easy for me to speak out in these spaces but what am I actually doing in my corner of the world to make a difference and to take a stand outside of writing?

Not enough.

But I want to change that and I am praying for those small daily opportunities where I get the chance to put my feet to work: to love on people, all people.  And my guess is, you are too.   

A friend and kindergarten teacher posted the following and I thought it was too good not to pass along.  With her permission, she said I could share it.  Thank you, April Lambiotte for posting this:

"I've been at a loss about Charlottesville. I usually have a lot of words all the time, but this act of hate has left me speechless.

Tonight, I realized once again, that everything you really need to know, you learn in kindergarten.

When something bad happens in my classroom or on the playground, I check on the victim first. This is what teachers are taught to do. Turn your immediate attention to the victim.

Are you ok?
I am so sorry this happened to you. 
What I can do to help?

I am not a victim of white supremacists. I am heartbroken and sick about it, but I don't know what it feels like to be that kind of victim.

So, friends of color,
Are you ok? 
I am so sorry this has happened/is happening. 
What can I do?"

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I hope your week has been productive and that you have some fun weekend plans in store.  As a follow up from last week, here is the latest 5 Bullet Friday Edition.  Enjoy!

1.  What I'm reading:

Everyone Communicates, Few People Connect:  What the Most Effective People Do Differently by John Maxwell.  This is a great read if you are looking to brush up on your communication skills.  It is short, direct and to the point.  Some takeaways:  

-Pay attention to your body language

-You have 7 seconds to make a great first impression

-Keep it simple; don't worry about having a fancy vocabulary or complex sentence structures

-Eye contact, eye contact, eye contact

-Be authentic, be you and live what you communicate

-Connecting is all about others and not about you.

2.  What I'm listening to:

Between Parents.  It is a podcast hosted by one of the pastor's of my church, Billy Phenix and his wife Joy.  We don't have kids besides two fur babies, but this podcast is still a great resource.  So much valuable and practical wisdom on marriage, relationships, and of course parenting.  Don't let not having kiddos shy you away from listening though.

https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/between-parents/id1168141901?mt=2

3.  What made me laugh/smile this week

It is another dog video...grab the tissues

Also, this girl.  She cracked me up.  I feel for her dad.  Because, I am guessing she learned this personality from someone in her life or perhaps she watches a lot of reality housewife shows, who knows.

4.  A Quote to Ponder:

"Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle."

-Plato

5.  What I'm watching:

Not to push church on anyone but this series was a game changer for both John and I.  Andy did this series sometime ago and decided to bring it back because of it's impact and popularity.  The series is called Guardrails.  Last week was part one. 

One "guardrail" John and I have used/use in our marriage is we do not travel alone (car/airplane/etc.) or meet one on one in private with someone of the opposite sex (we try to keep public meetings at a minimum).  It may sound silly or extreme but it has created incredible transparency in our marriage.  

Religious or not religious, there are some great pieces of wisdom in this series that can be applied to life in general regardless of your religious beliefs.  

http://buckheadchurch.org/messages/guardrails-2017/direct-and-protect/

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As always, thank you for reading.  Here's to a great weekend!

Degrees of Disobedience

I have struggled with "whole" truth telling for quite some time.

It was the thing that got me in trouble as a kid and it has been the thing that has caused me to stumble again and again as an adult.

I don't mind speaking and acknowledging parts of the truth, I am all about that.  But when it comes to the gut-honest, 100% transparent truth-speaking, it usually takes me a couple of times to get it right.  

It kills me how easily my mind can come up with alternative responses, stories, and perspectives which all work to create my own version of the "truth".  I have found myself automatically spitting out these types of dialogues without hesitation; and it is only after the words have been spoken I realize what I actually said was not the truth at all.

When I went to confess the truth to John (see Choosing to Cheat for more of the story), it took two attempts.  I knew exactly what I was suppose to say, but the first time around, I was not 100% honest.  I told a version of the truth that left significant parts of my mistakes out of the picture.  This confession was slanted with my own spin.  But I had made up my mind it was enough. 

That was right at the end of college.  John had accepted a job in Atlanta, and we were heavy in the process of thinking through what the next chapter of our relationship and personal and professional lives would look like.

Little did I know how my decision to not speak the full truth in that moment would wind up impacting almost every part of my life over the next eight months.

I went to a good school and I was a hard worker, so, in my simple mind, getting a job right out of college would be a piece of cake.  Instead, I received rejection after rejection.  It was brutally humbling. 

All the while, that persistent small voice from within constantly reminded me about my partial truth telling to John.

But again, I silenced it.  John didn't need to know--the truth would only cause more hurt which he did not need.

And then more rejection letters.  More professional slammed doors.  

As each rejection came and another door shut, there was a faint echo in my heart that grew louder: "Tell him, tell him all of it."

I will spare you the further storytelling but suffice to say that within two days of sitting down and telling John the whole truth, I got a job offer.

Coincidence?  Absolutely not.  And I could tell you story after story of how this pattern of stepping into complete obedience has yielded God's favor and provision in my life.  But this is a lesson I keep having to learn. 

Each time I am met with the opportunity to tell the whole truth, I still stumble.  That automatic partial-truth telling response kicks in and I have to fight hard to see it coming.

Because the truth is, no matter how many times I have had an undeniable God experience in my life, my sin-bent heart prefers comfort.  Comfort defined by what looks best and seems best to me, for me.  And when this comfort is challenged, the voice in my head comes up with a million rationalizations--some that even have parts of the truth embedded into them--and my head wants more than anything to go with that particular option. 

"It's just one more, it will be fine."

"It's just an isolated incident."

"It's just sex, no one waits anymore."

"It's just a living arrangement, it makes the most sense."

"It's just something I need to carry on my own, no one needs to know about it.  I don't want to hurt them."

You likely know the story of Moses and the Israelites.  God spared them, these were His people, and he delivered them from the Egyptians and a life of brutal slavery.  He wanted to take them to a new land with a new way of life and He promised these things to them.  But despite the fact the Israelites had seen the hand of God in and on their lives multiple times, they got distracted by comfort.

Over and over again God told Moses I am taking you and the Israelites to the Promise Land.  No more slavery, no more cruelty.  I want to give you something better.  I will go before you and prepare the way.  But make sure you and the Israelites place no other gods before me. 

And the Israelites responded: we will do as you say.

But the Israelites were not a patient people.  When Moses went to meet with God to get the ten commandments, the Israelites grew restless and decided to take matters into their own hands.  They were tired of waiting on God.

So they decided not to wait.

And God wanted to destroy them because of it.  But He didn't.  He spared them, He punished them, and then He made good on His promise to deliver them to that promised land.  But it would take 40 years before God would lead them to that promised place.

I often wonder how the story would have changed if the Israelites had been fully obedient the first time around.  Would they had to of wander in the desert for 40 years?  Would some of their pain have been spared?

It is easy to look back at the story of the Israelites and think God is not the same as He was back then.  He has changed.  People have changed.  Obedience in the small things just isn't that big of a deal.

If I could look you in the eye, right now in this moment, I would tell you God absolutely cares about the details.  And God absolutely cares about you.  He loved the Israelites way back when and He loves you right now.  And He wants 100% obedience.  

When people ask me how I know there is a God...it is because of this; it is because I have seen His faithfulness when I have been obedient to that small, persistent voice.  When people ask me what grace is, I say it is this...because I have been disobedient too many times to count and yet God pursues me still.

Don't be afraid to lean in to that small, persistent whisper.  Don't be afraid of that uncomfortable thing: the action, the phone call, the confession, the saying no...whatever it is.

You can do it.  I know you can.

5-Bullet Friday

Tim Ferriss (author of 4 Hour Work Week) writes a short bulleted blog post every Friday highlighting some of his weekly favorite reads, quotes, videos, and viral posts.  Given this space is usually heavy and dark, I thought I would lighten things up a bit by doing my own spin off of Tim's Friday ritual.

Bullets you can expect to see:

1.  What I'm reading:

I am all about a great read--hope to point some of the good ones your way.

2.  What I'm listening to:

Music makes life sweeter; so do great podcasts. I hope to point you to some good tunes or interesting listens for those daily commutes/runs/rides,etc.

3.  What made me laugh/smile this week

Laughing is good for the soul.  So is smiling.  A disclaimer: while I am all about the emotional stuff, laughing is one of my absolute favorite things to do.  I love jokes but usually am laughing so hard I can't get the punchline out.  Working on it.  Also, smiling usually=I am looking at puppies, so be prepared.

4.  What I'm eating:

My dad says the best thing I make are reservations so don't expect any fancy recipes.  But I do love food and trying new restaurants; although I am not hip at all so expect me to behind the newest spots/trends.  Case in point:

A friend recently called me to ask advice on where to go for live music and a fun atmosphere...my initial response was: Maggianos (y'all---so bad.  It was that piano that is always playing that brought it to mind.  I thought of other spots after this one but regretted that recommendation the moment I said it).  

5.  What I'm watching:

I am not a TV fan but love, love watching movies.  Hope to point you to some good ones and warn you about the not so good ones.

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As always, thank you for reading.  You taking the time out of your day to journey to this space makes my heart happy.  And I am so darn grateful and appreciative for you.  

So here we go...

1.  What I'm reading:  Tribes: We need you to lead us by Seth Godin.  I am about half way through but am loving it.  Seth is a straight shooter and one of the most concise authors out there right now.  It is a great read on marketing and how to get your business to grow.  

2.  What I'm listening to:  Ed Sheeran's "What do I know?"  Don't hate on Ed-he's crazy talented.  He got the attention of queen B in their performance of Drunk in Love...so I mean if she thinks he's got talent...I'm just saying, he's good.

3.  What made me laugh/smile this week:  Meet Nubby the boxer puppy born without front legs

4.  What I'm eating:

John and I celebrated a huge milestone at Gunshow on Tuesday.  It is one of our faves and is a great special occasion spot.

5.  What I'm watching:  The Big Sick.  Real funny.  But don't confuse the title when you recommend it to friends/co-workers with Big Stick...I heard you get really strange looks and responses like: "I didn't know you were into those kind of movies..."

Happy weekend, y'all!

Aging and Expectations

Confession:  Aging is throwing me for a loop.

Especially this past year.  It is like I woke up one morning and looked 20+ years older.  The dark circles under my eyes, the ever increasing forehead wrinkles, and the more locating of sagging skin in places that were never that well, saggy.

And honestly I hate all of it.

But there is this deep seeded tension I keep wrestling with: Why am I so fixated on controlling beauty and physical appearance?  Why do I linger in the mirror a little longer and hover over pictures--zooming in to magnify all these blemishes that keep coming my way?

And then I think about my faith...I think about how crazy strong the currents of our society are on the topic of beauty.  I think about how we have been taught to chase the appearance of perfection. 

And then I think about what God thinks when He looks down from heaven at His children spending all this energy obsessing over beauty and perfection.

This past week my counselor boldly called out some really ugly perceptions about how my eyes and mind define beauty.  And I needed to hear every word he said.

On paper, I have pretty good vision.  I have never had to wear contacts.  But just because my external vision is decent does not mean my internal vision is the same.

No, my internal vision, the way I truly define beauty is horribly jaded.  If my eyes don't like what they see, I create what I call the perfect picture.  It is more than a definition and expectation.  In my head, it is exactly what reality is suppose to look like; it is perfection.

And I want perfection in all of it: perfect skin, perfect family, perfect marriage, perfect job, perfect processes.  Because if all these areas of life are operating perfectly as I desire, then I will be okay.  My world and everything in it will be okay.

There are things that God detests, and one of those things is when His children chase idols instead of seeking and trusting Him.

My counselor looked me in the eye and essentially said: You are chasing an idol.  You think the expectations of perfection you have in your head will comfort you if they are ever materialized.  But they won't.  And more than likely these expectations will never come to fruition.  Instead of taking your hurt and disappointment to God about the reality of your situation, you are running further away from Him by chasing your self-created idol of perfection.

I know "idol" seems like an outdated word but the gist of it still very much applies to our every day lives.

Idol: An image or representation of a god used as an object of worship.

Worship: To treat someone or something with the reverence and adoration of a deity.

So, if ageless skin is the idol I am worshipping/pursuing, it stands to reason the pursuit of this desire thereby says to my Creator:

"I know better than you.  Aging, this natural part of life which you created, is a process I wish to not be a part of.  So I will pursue another route and I will fight against you and your ways.  Because the image in my head of what I am suppose to look like is far better than the image my reality is actually reflecting."

And there, in a single instant a wedge is created.  A wedge that says: I don't trust the way things are.  I don't trust the way things look...I know better, I know what reality is suppose to look like and this is not it.

My skin may seem like an arbitrary example but I can exchange this topic with a number of other, more "serious" subjects.

This relationship/job/spouse/parent/child/process isn't turning out how I expected it/them to...therefore rather than trusting God with the reality of the situation, I will take matters into my own hands...because after all, I know exactly what perfection in this realm is suppose to look like.

But God is calling out to you and me asking:  Will you trust me?  Do you trust me?  Will you come to me instead of running to these comfort idols/perfection you have created in your head?

My honest answer to Him today:  I am not sure.  Because I still very much want the perfect skin, marriage, job, family, etc...and to say I will no longer chase these things, means that I have to confess and believe my skin, marriage, job, family, etc.,  is the exact way it is suppose to be at this exact moment in time.  It means I have to trust that the blemishes and imperfections in my life are actually a catalyst for trust and surrender and not an invitation for me to escape into my made up definition of perfection.

One day, I hope to see how God sees.  I hope to look at all the brokenness and imperfections of this world and somehow learn to view them through a lens in which I have no agenda, just trust...a trust that says: This thing/person is in the exact place it is suppose to be in at this very moment...which means this exact moment represents holy perfection.  And that is the only kind of perfection I long to be after.

Groans and Grief

In April 2015 there was an article published in the American Pain Society entitled: "On the Importance of Being Vocal: Saying Ow Improves Pain Tolerance."  The researchers who wrote the article set out to test the theory: Does being vocal in response to pain actually help one endure pain longer? 

The short answer, yes.  The observations found those who were vocal as a result of the pain they were experiencing were able to endure the pain longer than those who stayed silent.¹

The findings were intriguing because I am so quick to think the strongest are usually the quietest.  Isn't that how it goes?  Whomever complains the least, whomever can stand the pain the longest without a word spoken, those are the individuals to aspire to be like?  These silent individuals are the toughest of specimens.  After all, no one likes a complainer.

Grief is a new experience for me.  I have brushed shoulders with it here and there throughout my life but nothing like the present.  There have been a handful of days over the past several months where getting out of bed seemed like an impossibility.  Getting dressed felt like a marathon and drumming up enough energy to make it out the door felt like an impossible task.  My sole desire on these days is to pull the covers over my head and forget about the world.  Forget about the sickness, the sadness, and the fact that every moment that passes is leading us closer to our last day on this earth.

I always thought the key to passing through difficult seasons was to soldier up and power through.  Keep your mouth shut, don't complain.  Trust that all this is a part of God's plan and that it is all working together for His good.

But then there are the findings of this study.  Findings that say to endure pain, speak.  Vocalize the hurt.  Put words to the sadness.  Because when you do, you can endure the pain longer. 

John 11:35 is a prelude for how we are to respond to grief:  "Jesus wept."  That's it, that's the whole verse.  Jesus wept because his dear friend had died and when He (Jesus) arrived on the scene, He saw how his friend's family and loved ones were heart broken over the loss.  The people present that day were utterly confused because this man claiming to be the Messiah, the actual son of God, did not prevent the death of their loved one that day.  And then the text says:

"Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb." John 11:38

I have read these words many times, but have always skipped over the "once more deeply moved" part.  As I wrestle with grief and the emotions and phases that come with it, I am so thankful for these words.

I am thankful for the way Jesus outwardly expressed sadness that day.  I am thankful it was not just a one and done kind of thing.  He was heart broken.  He felt the loss.  He felt the heaviness of the hearts around Him...and one, singular-ugly cry was just not enough. 

And if it wasn't enough for Him, it certainly is not going to be enough for me.

So here's to saying "ouch" more and to not being afraid of one or two or...one hundred ugly cries.  Because when you feel the pain and you express it, perhaps it is the very fuel you need to keep on getting up and pushing on.

¹(http://www.jpain.org/article/S1526-5900(15)00032-2/pdf)

Faith and Fashion

The tides have been significantly shifting in the apparel world for quite some time now.  Big name brands such as J. Crew, Gap, and Abercrombie and Fitch are getting hit hard by the new realities of how people shop.

Before the good ole world wide web transformed the landscape of shopping and life in general, these big name retailers and their designers controlled almost everything about the apparel game.

These retailers functioned based on their top designer's taste, expertise, and vision.  And from these influences the product was birthed.

For so long, the shopper had to physically go into the store to purchase apparel which gave even more control to the retailers.  The shoppers were completely reliant on the supplier as they controlled the trends, set the bar for the industry, and in short created the "absolutes" of fashion.

But now the landscape of the apparel world has radically shifted and these brands that thrived for so long are taking a serious hit.

So, what happened?  What's the reason for the decline? 

Demand.

Instant demand.  The internet changed so many things for our world and one of those things was not just the way shoppers shopped: it changed the reality of supply.  The supplier is no longer the name of the game.  These brands and their designers no longer set the bar for shoppers; it is instead the shopper who controls the process.

In short, the customer now informs the designer, not the other way around.

Recently, I was watching Oprah's Super Soul Sunday.  She was interviewing three thirty somethings whom she deemed as top thinkers of the next generation.  All three of the individuals being interviewed were wildly successful, they believed in God, were advocates of speaking the truth, and that in the end love always wins.  As I sat and listened, I loved what I was hearing.  Such forces, with such huge platforms, up on a stage saying that faith plays a critical role in their lives.

 But the longer I listened, the longer that still small voice inside of me began to question these individual's belief systems.  Do I believe in the same God they do?  Was the spirit they were referencing the same holy spirit I longed to lead my steps?  Did they too believe in the life, death, and resurrection of God's son?

The uncomfortable response: I don't know.

But I wanted to join in with them.  It all sounded so good.  And there were parts of that interview where I was nodding my head and applauding what was being said.  Because some of it sounded so familiar to my own belief.  But the longer I listened, the more I realized these varying beliefs in God did not align to "the way, the truth, and the life."

This version of faith being spoken did not represent an absolute truth in Him: the one who sent His only son to a die a criminal's death so that you and I could be free; and the one who said if you want to follow me, deny yourselves, pick up your cross, and then follow in my steps.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I could not get that interview and the apparel industry out of my mind.

The God our culture believes in has become much like the apparel industry.

The supplier, God, who is the master, the expert in all things, the absolute of absolutes, the divine creator of all, has been replaced by the demands of what culture wants out of Him.

We will take a little bit of grace, a little bit of forgiveness, a whole lot of love and then we create whatever product/belief system we want out of it and call it spirituality.

But the problem is we are not master creators.  And our demands are never suppose to inform our supplier, the original creator of this world.

God is not meant to be viewed as a buffet style of characteristics where His followers get to pick what they do and do not want of Him.  Following him is crazy hard, humiliating, humbling, and uncomfortable.  There is divine freedom in Him but this freedom does not equate to selectable optionality.

 And regardless of how things may land for us personally, our only response is to be that of trust, open hands, and immediate obedience... not a piecemeal selection of the top qualities of God based on our own tastes and preferences.

 The idea is similar to if we humans controlled the weather.  I would like all sunshine, a slight breeze and temperatures around the mid 70s.  But if this is what happened every single day, the beauty of the plants, trees, and soils would die without the shade of the clouds and the rain from the storms.  We need all the weather and the seasons, not just the ideal degree of day.

When I think about the end of my life and the day I will stand before my maker, I often wonder what His words will be as He takes account of my life.  I fear, more often than not, that this topic is one where there will be highs and lows.  I fear God may look into my eyes and ask me why I didn't trust Him and His perfect ways; why did I spend so much time trying to make Him into what I wanted Him to be; why did I embrace what culture said about Him instead of seeking Him for His absolute truths. 

I want to get this right.  And I want you to too.  

May our faith and our understanding of God not be defined by convenience and comfort.

Romans 12:1-2 MSG 

So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

Screw the Skinny Jeans

Quite the title, I know.

I have had a pair of skinny jeans for the past four or so years.  They are those jeans in my closet against which all else is measured.

The scale and I have had a long dysfunctional relationship with one another so I stay away from it at all costs.

But these jeans…they have become my indicator.  And the way they fit has become more significant than any number I look down upon.

Will they still fit after that week of vacation?

Will they go on with ease after not working out for (gasp) three weeks?

At this point, I have now had these said jeans patched twice in places where it should be a clear indication that it is time for them to go.

And yet, I have been unable to part with them.

For me, exercise, running specifically, became my way of passing the hours in between work.  Certain days of the week became dedicated long run days.  Miles were constantly being logged.  And the results physically speaking paid off.  As such, my first pair of slim fit skinny jeans were bought in a size that made me feel good.

Four marathons, many miles logged, and lots of worn down tennis shoes later, I look back and scratch my head at what I was thinking.

What was the point?  What was the purpose?

To be honest, I am not quite sure.

To be fair, running and exercise have served as a huge piece of anxiety management in my life.  But the further removed I am from my running days, the more God opens my eyes to the driving forces behind my obsession with fitting into a certain pair of jeans.

For a long time I thought my issues with weight and size and exercise were rooted in control.  Control of your body=control of your circumstances.

But the more God tugs at my heart about this issue, the more I realize it actually has nothing to do with control.

Instead it is about definition and what I have allowed to define me.

It is about fitting into a definition of beauty the world has created.

As I have gotten older, the wrinkles have become more visible, and my weight has gotten harder to manage.  And the fix in my mind boils down to procedure and perpetual cardio.  But neither are sustainable.

And I am so tired of those stupid skinny jeans.

I am so tired of defining my worth by shape, fit, style, and size.

When we were about 30 minutes away from landing in Maui a couple of weeks ago-I looked out the window and what I saw was pure perfection.  The ocean, the sky, the sun-the colors seemed limitless.  They reminded me of the vastness of God, His infiniteness, His supremacy.  The words of Ephesians 4:17-18 came to mind:

…And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge-that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

To know God=means to be full.  It means his love for us is not bound by dimensions or man made definitions or pant sizes for that matter.

And if I am being honest, a weight or a size has never left me feeling the fullness this verse describes.

Instead, these things have left me hungry, empty, tired, and worn out from a perpetual moving target.

So today, I decided to give away those skinny jeans.

It was a simple gesture yet a profound one at that.  And I am grateful.

Vision: Seeing the Divine in a Divorce

There is a new Hillsong United worship song out called, “Wonder.”  It is so good.  It’s message is about how vision changes when it encounters the divine.  And then it calls out to you the listener, asking you if you have ever seen such a thing:

Have you ever seen the wonder/

Watch the acoustic performance, hear the story behind the song, and learn how to play 'Wonder' from Hillsong United. Get free charts, lyrics, and resources here: http://www.worshiptogether.com/songs/wonder-united/ Get Wonder on iTunes here: http://untd.me/wonder?IQid=wtyt Stream on Spotify here: http://untd.me/wonder.sp?IQid=wtyt Worship Together is the #1 online resource for worship leaders.

In the glimmer of first sight/

As the eyes begin to open/

And the blindness meets the light/

If you have so say/

Chorus

I see the world in light/

I see the world in wonder/

I see the world in life/

Bursting in living color/

I see the world Your way/

And I’m walking in the light

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I was raised in a church where divorce was viewed through a black and white lens.  No gray.  No in-between.  No exceptions.  Just hard and fast rules.

So when divorce entered the picture in my own family, this was the lens at which I saw it through.  I desperately wanted concrete answers from God.  The situation was tricky and immensely complicated.  No one was innocent.  We all had a part to play.  But my upbringing influenced me to overlook the gray.  To forget the in-between, to forget the stories and the pain both my parents and the people involved were carrying and to label this as a very bad thing.

And label I did.

For a very long time, the divorce, the thing that disrupted our family unit was all bad.  The lens which I saw it through only reflected back feelings of heartbreak, betrayal, and hypocrisy.

These feelings were not just the aftermath and the process of grief and grieving a family unit that was no more; these feelings became a permanent way of how I saw things and people.  I became blinded by my own pain and my own self-consumed mind really believed that was all there was to see.

Almost nine years ago, I stood on a beach and watched as my dad and stepmom got married.  And my heart broke.  Through the lens at which I was watching the ceremony through, this marked the final sealing of a chapter for the parents who raised me.  And it hurt like hell.  I didn’t understand it and quite frankly I didn’t want anything further to do with it.  I was not quiet with my thoughts and I was cruel with my tongue.

There was no trust, no hope, just anger and resentment.

My parents' pain didn’t matter.  My stepmom’s pain didn’t matter.  It was just about me—how I saw, how I felt.

I would love to tell you that when faith, grace,and surrender entered the equation that this lens through which I saw the world instantly changed.  But it didn’t.  Instead, what began was the Lord turning that lens around and slowly revealing that that finger I was pointing at everyone else with…well, there really were only more fingers pointing back at me. 

I was the problem.  My heart had the issues.  My black and white thinking had created my own throne from which I was ruling and judging those around me and the Lord basically said, “No more looking through the world with this lens.  It has to fall.  All of it."

He reminded me that we all deserve judgment.  That we are all worthy of condemnation.  A sin is a sin and there’s no one on this earth who is immune to that fact.  All of us are in desperate need of grace and God's redeeming love.

With time both maturing in my faith and my marriage, I have learned nothing is black and white.  Faith is child-like and incredibly simple yet blurry and complex all at the same time.

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My dad and stepmom celebrate their nine year anniversary next week.  

They say time flies when you are having fun, but what’s scarier is how quickly time goes by when you are angry and hurt.  No one warns you of the risk of going blind.  No one warns you of the severity of how dangerous too much time spent in these emotions can be.  These feelings don’t go away overnight.  I had to feel them, maybe you need to feel them.  But they also cannot become permanent fixtures either.  

Slowly but surely my black and white thinking has dissipated.  But it has not been easy.  My sight started to see the gray.  That everyone in this world is carrying pain and suffering and really at the end of the day we are all trying our best.  Those black and white colors slowly and steadily started to merge together, the two colors no longer were clear and in their defined space.  The lines were blurred.

And then, in what now seems like overnight, there was color.  His color.  Radiating color from some of the most darkest of places.  These spaces, people, and events were now comprised of the most beautiful compilation of differing shades and tones.  And when I started to take a step back, I realized the Lord…well, He’s really, really good at combining colors.  He is good at painting a masterpiece.  He is good, the best actually, at combining varying conflicting forces and transforming them to the most spectacular work of art.

But you will never be able to see it through a black and white lens;  the lens of your own, natural site.

A piece of the inspiration behind Hillsong’s “Wonder” is the below video.  It is short, and I promise you it is worth the watch.  It captures perfectly what happens when someone’s sight is changed, when living color can finally be experienced.

To my Dad and Cindy, I can wholeheartedly respond to the lyrics of that song and say I have seen the wonder.  And a part of that wonder is you.  That wonder has been your marriage.  That wonder is found in acknowledging the reality that God’s plan is always better, always sweeter, and your marriage is a profound testament to that.

Cindy: You are one of the best things that ever happened to my dad.  And you are one of the best, most beautiful things that ever happened to me.  I am forever grateful for you.

Dad: I am so proud of you and the man that you are-as a believer, as a husband, as a Father, and as a friend.  

To you both: I am just so sorry it took so long for me to put on the right “lenses.”

Cheers to the next nine, you two.  I love you both with my whole and thankfully no longer color-blind heart.

Please take a moment to watch the below.  May our hearts and eyes long to embrace the color of the Lord and His workings.

Roger Milbecht in St Louis sent in this video of his grandfather seeing the world in true color for the very first time and it's absolutely incredible to watch!

Some Thoughts on Calling

My parents came to visit several months ago and dropped off the remainder of my crap that had been sitting in their basement for the past decade (sorry about that Dad and Cindy!).  Now that we have a basement of our own, we have the space to house these untouched boxes and storage containers. 

And by crap I mean all the excess and remainder of what I had chosen over the years not to carry with me into my current home and stage of life.  The old prom dresses, photo albums, loose photos, letters/cards, and random things that for one reason of another I chose never to let go of or put in their proper place.  They were at one point in my life significant, but now, ten years later, these things were nothing but artifacts of a past I really didn’t want to remember.

A couple of weeks ago I got up the courage to open those boxes that essentially represented Pandora at her finest self.  What I thought would be a quick 30 minute task of unloading everything into the trashcan ended up being a two hour proverbial archeological dig as I went through piece by piece all those boxes held.  Lots of memories were aroused, some good, but mostly bad.  These boxes symbolized a part of me that I wanted to leave behind. 

The girl I saw in those photos looked sick, almost unrecognizable, she was/I was a reflection of everything “too much” stands for: too much tanning (what in the world was I thinking??), too much drinking, too much covering up, too much starving, too much pretending to be a good person when in fact I was anything but.  Too much chasing people, self-images, and things that provided a temporary high. 

And then, buried deep within one of those boxes I found a journal.  There were only two entries in it but the first began like this:

Dear Lord,

Today is my first journal entry/contact with you that I have had in…I’m overdue.  I don’t know where to begin-I’ve lost myself.

And as I reread those words written almost ten years ago, so many emotions came to the table. 

It was my first declaration, my first cry for help.  It was a confession, and in between the lines it screamed, “I don’t know what the hell YOU are doing, and I don’t know why the hell YOU are allowing all of this to happen…but I know deep down what I am doing is not the answer.”

And then that was it.  No more entries.  No more declarations.  No further digging, no further confession.  That timid, angry, frightened child in me that was coming to her heavenly Father for the first time ran out the door as quickly as she had run in.  It would be some two years and a million mistakes later before I would pick up the pen again…before I would cry out for help, before I would write on paper that I had finally come to the end of myself.

So many times throughout the past ten years and really the entirety of my life I have questioned where God was in all the pain?  And why wouldn’t He provide the rescue I so desperately craved?

But as I reflected through the contents of this box it became perfectly clear.  He was there.  He has always been there.  His voice, that deep yet almost silent whisper, was calling to me, I just didn’t want to hear it.

I just celebrated my 7th year of a commitment to live a life defined by that whisper.  And I have spent a lot of those years questioning God, questioning my purpose, wondering what my gifts were, wondering what all this pain of life means and how can it be used.  And I have seven years of journals to prove this questioning process has looked more like a written wrestling match than a perfectly curated Q&A with my creator.

But as scary as it was, I kept putting pen to paper.  And out of that process was birthed a love for words and the divine.  This blog has been a space to take my relationship with writing public and it has been beautiful yet crazy uncomfortable all at the same time. 

Writing has become the way I respond to God's whispers.  It is my runway to Him.  It is , my “lane.”  And as I read that first journal entry from so many years ago, tears filled my eyes, because after reading all the “how to’s” of finding your passion, and the constant prayers asking the Lord to reveal my strengths, I realized this gift had been in front of me the whole time. 

And by “gift,” I mean it is how I connect.  It is how I love.  It is how I capture the beauty and the heartbreak of what I experience.  It is how I encourage and process.  My friends often joke at my love of letter writing…it is just my thing.

About a month ago, I sat down with a woman who writes for a living.  Her number one piece of advice to me was to start owning that title: “When people ask you what you do, you respond with: I am a writer.  Own it.  And then watch what starts to happen.”

Since starting this blog, I have gotten lots of “I didn’t know you could write…”  And to be honest, I didn’t know I could either.  It is just something that feels natural and good.  It feels like obedience; it is me simply putting one foot in front of the other and then leaving the rest to God. 

Although, to be honest, once people started to acknowledge the writing, my ego wanted to make it all about me—focusing on more likes, more followers, and how can I make this thing bigger and better for my own good. 

But that’s not what it is about, and my prideful heart has gotten enough lessons in humility to know better (although rest assured, it is a constant battle to remember this). 

It is instead about becoming less so He can become more.  It is about realizing one anonymous written note of encouragement could have more influence than a NYT best seller ever could or will.  It is about being okay with being a force that is both invisible and visible—but neither of these are mine to choose.  They are His.  

You have a gift, too.  You have been wired uniquely, perfectly, to connect to your creator in the most beautiful of ways.  Perhaps it’s a love of numbers, science, animals, medicine, music, yoga, art, teaching, parenting, modeling, real estate, law, woodworking… the list could go on and on.  You have it, I just know it.

And be certain it has nothing to do with IQ, grade point average, a fancy education or job title.  Yes, these things help build and define the gift but at the core, these gifts, your gift, is God-breathed; and He so very much wants to be a part of it.  To use you to do both visible and invisible things for His good. 

But it will take time.  And that’s okay.  Growing slow is okay (thank you Laura Casey for that reminder).  Organic production is okay.  Simply because you do not feel seen or noticed for your gift does not mean He is not using you for His glory and purpose.  And just because you may feel like you don’t know what your gift is does not mean God is not using it at this very moment. 

He is.  And He will continue to, in His time and His pace.

And on the flip side, if you do know your gift, and you are using it on a daily basis, be cognizant of how the world tells you to use it.  Remember the whisper and the quiet stirrings.  Remember the power of selflessness and anonymity.