Today's question comes from page 76, at the end of the chapter called "Seeds." It is a chapter that asks about what gifts within us are longing to be born.

Last year, my One Word 365 was TOV. That's what this chapter is all about.

Questions about gifts and purpose and calling and "what is God's will for our lives" tend to loom large in Christian circles. Naming our gifts can feel like standing in the street naked... in the winter... with a crowd looking on. Is the vulnerability worth it? Meanwhile, the idea of God's will can feel like a frantic search for the x on a treasure map. If we don't get to just the right spot, will we miss it?

All this leads to a tension. On the one hand, we feel the pull to live a life of purpose and meaning. We long to use the gifts within us to bring good things to the world. On the other hand, we feel the pull to avoid the questions that feel too big and risky to answer.

Which is why I love turning questions of calling into questions of delight. We may not be able to articulate our best gifts, but we can often name what brings us joy. What if reflecting on the things that delight us is what opens the door to learn more about our truest selves? What if it shrinks the big questions into pieces we can move towards one step at a time? 

Here's my challenge for all of us today. Let's make a list- What are the big and small things we do that bring our souls gladness, joy, and fulfillment? Here are some of mine:

• Engaging in deep, meandering conversations in which no one notices how much time has passed.
• Eating delicious food.
• Teaching the Scriptures and helping people see their relevance.
• Helping people unlock their potential.
• Listening to music I love.
• Cooking.
• Traveling.
• Running through the woods on a beautiful day.
• Watching people's eyes light up with the reality of learning something new at just the right moment.
• Leading a meeting. (Seriously. I have so much fun leading engaging meetings, and I hate sitting through boring ones.)
• Hosting people at my house.
• Laughing with my children.
• Snuggling with my husband.

Now, let's look through our lists- Are there any threads connecting pieces? How might those threads lead us? 

For me, the most noticeable thread is people. I am a people-person through and through. This tells me something important about how God has wired me and what kinds of seeds I may be designed to plant in this world.

Maybe with lists like these, the question of calling can feel a little less scary... and a lot more fun.

- Steph

Your turn: What are you doing when your soul is deeply glad?

If  you are a blogger, link up with your post below. If you are not a blogger, you can also link up to an Instagram post, how cool is that? Or, maybe now is the the time to step out of the shadows and respond with a comment. I promised I will reply to all comments left. 

An InLinkz Link-up

Now it's time for next week's question, from page 109 of Beginnings, "How would you describe the season you find yourself in these days?"

Come back next week to link up and respond. 

The first set of questions will come from Steve Wien's book, Beginnings, which I highly recommend you buy and read. However, you are welcome to participate even if you haven't read it, just by tackling the questions.

Our first question comes from page 44, at the end of Day Two, when God creates an expanse between the waters, preparing the creation for the life that is coming next.

What are some things you think you may need to let go of in order to expand into who you need to become?

I sat across from him on the couch, legs criss-cross applesauce, listening intently. He was talking about the future of some projects we were working on together. My eyes and ears were glued to the wisdom of this older man whom I respect beyond compare. Until the conversation turned, and he began to say something affirming about me. Then, I shifted in my seat and turned my gaze to the floor. When he asked me what I was thinking, my normal ability to put thoughts into words became a stammer of "ums and ahhs." Until I blurted out, 

"But who am I?"

I followed that statement with all sorts of rational objections to his affirmations. Who am I to do these things you think I can do? Who am I for God to call me forth in that kind of way? Who am I to.... 

He looked at me, and with a conviction beyond his normal tone said, "That question is the biggest thing holding you back right now. You have to let it go."

I veer down the "who am I" road of self-doubt without conscious thought on a regular basis. It's a well-worn road that seems to draw me away whenever I look down the less-predictable and uncleared ways of affirmation and calling. 

I'm in good company on the "who am I" road. Moses thought a better speaker would have been more qualified. Jeremiah thought he was much too young. Peter went back to fishing for awhile. Self-doubt is not a new development in our human condition. 

Sometimes we even mislabel self-doubt as humility. We don't think we are supposed to see and say what we are good at doing. We fear looking conceited. Yet, Jesus was clearly humble and clearly confident at the same time. He knew his calling, he knew his gifts, and he pursued them whole-heartedly. If he is our model of what it means to be fully-human, how can we follow him down that path?

I've had a few experiences recently in which I have used my gifts and thought afterwards, "That was good." Which, honestly, feels uncomfortable. I am getting scratched by some thorns on this less-cleared way of seeing my own potential. It feels so deeply vulnerable to name our gifts. So, the "Who am I" road starts pulling me back: What if it turns out I'm wrong? What if I fail, and I'm not good at this after all? What if I look foolish? What if...? 

I love this quote by Marianne Williamson (often misattributed to Nelson Mandela),

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

I am learning to be free. I am learning to choose the path of confidence instead of the road of self-doubt. As I clear out the overgrowth, I'm discovering the surroundings are much more expansive than I realized. 

- Steph

Your turn: What are some things you think you may need to let go of in order to expand into who you need to become?

If  you are a blogger, link up with your post below. If you are not a blogger, you can also link up to an Instagram post, how cool is that? Or, maybe now is the the time to step out of the shadows and respond with a comment. I promised I will reply to all comments left. 

There is risk, but there is also great power, in sharing our longings out loud.

An InLinkz Link-up

Now, it's time to reveal next week's question, from page 76 of Beginnings, "What are you doing when your soul is deeply glad?" 

That's going to be a vulnerable one, friends. But let's do it. Let's have the guts to say these things out loud.

The first set of questions will come from Steve Wien's book, Beginnings, which I highly recommend you buy and read. However, you are welcome to participate even if you haven't read it, just by tackling the questions.

Our first question comes from page 25, at the end of Day One, when God says, "Let there be light." It is a chapter about God ushering us into new beginnings. 

What do you most long to hear from God these days?

What do I think I should want to hear from God? What would it sound good to say I wanted to hear from God? What do I wish I wanted to hear from God? What do I  actually long to hear from God? 

If you're like me, you had to wrestle through the first few questions to get to the heart of the actual question for today. It's amazing how difficult it can be to stay in touch with our own desires and needs. We slip on people-pleasing and religious posturing like the comfortable sweatshirt from high school we can't bear to part with, even though it's full of holes and does nothing to keep us warm. Then, wrapped up in that, we convince ourselves that's what a sweatshirt is supposed to feel like, and it's truly what we want and need.

I'm taking off that tattered sweatshirt today. I'm not even taking it to Goodwill- I don't want anyone else to pick it up and think they are stuck with it, too. Nope, this baby is going straight to the trash.

What do I most long to hear from God these days? That I can be free.

Free from people-pleasing. Free from the swirling questions about what others are thinking about me that seem to be my constant companion. Free from using food as a drug to ease my pain, soothe my boredom, or reward me for my hard work. Free from answering questions about how I am doing with how everyone around me is feeling. Free from the shaming voice that instantly notices all the things I could have done better. Free from working to try to earn my belovedness. 

Free to be fully present to the present moment. Free to walk confidently in my calling without fear of how others will respond. Free to laugh and be ridiculous, even if people are looking. Free to embrace the strength of my vulnerability and the reality of my neediness. Free to love and be loved without trying so damn hard. Free to be me- the messed-up me, the extraordinary me, the regular-ole me, the creative me, the compassionate me, the whole me, the true me.

I long to hear God say that freedom is possible, freedom is coming, and freedom can be my new way of being. I long for affirmation that the hard emotional work I have done over the last few years has led me here, to the cultivated soil now ready to sprout with free and reckless life.  

"Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your stand!" -Gal 5:1 (The Message)

I'm ready.

- Steph

P.S. I've been thinking about what my OneWord 365 should be. Sounds like I found one: FREE.

(Keep reading to enter the link-up, to see next week's question, and to find out who won the free book from the post on New Beginnings.)

Your turn: What are you longing to hear from God these days?

If  you are a blogger, link up with your post below. If you are not a blogger, you can also link up to an Instagram post, how cool is that? Or, maybe now is the the time to step out of the shadows and respond with a comment. I promised I will reply to all comments left. 

There is risk, but there is also great power, in sharing our longings out loud.

An InLinkz Link-up

Now, it's time to reveal next week's question, from page 44 of Beginnings, "What are some things you think you may need to let go of in order to expand into who you need to become?"

Finally, the winner of a copy of Beginnings is... Crosby Kuehl! Congrats. I'll email to figure out details of getting you a copy. There were only 5 entries, so I went old school and literally wrote out names and picked from a hat. :)

I went to his show notes and discovered the link did in fact go to my site. At first I laughed, feeling the human connection of making a mistake. The laughter quickly faded when I felt the prompting that it's absolutely what I should do. 

What Steve doesn't know is that the beginning of this new year had me pondering what to do with my blog. The start of a new year is a great time to ask if it's time to stop something that has been part of our routines. My writing has been slowly fading out over the last year or two, as I have tried to figure out where it fits with the rest of my shifting vocational directions. 

I like writing. But I love having conversations. The isolation of blogging has always been difficult for me to navigate. I'm an extrovert who is at my best when I can look into someone's eyes instead of at a screen. I love being with people face-to-face and diving into the depths faith. That is why I adore the way of teaching the Scriptures that has entered my life, where we gather in a circle with slowness, vulnerability, and questions. 

Questions are kindling for the fire of connection. They are among my favorite things. 

One of the many gifts Beginnings gives the reader is the great questions at the end of each chapter. If you are like me, though, you read good questions in books, think about how they would be good prompts for reflection, then keep moving onto the next chapter. In the absence of community, questions can easily be skipped.

All this got me wondering: what if my blog became about questions instead of answers? What if posts were an invitation to dig into life together? What if it was less of a monologue and more of a conversation? 

I don't know exactly where this wondering will go, but I know where it will start: Steve's book. I guess I'm starting a book club after all. Though, I'm not sure I'd call it a book club- it will be more of a book prompt. I hope to use the book to create written conversations about life and faith. 

Here's how it will work: Each week, I will choose a question from Beginnings, write about it, and invite you to write about it too.

I will reveal the question a week in advance, to give time for us to ponder it. When I write my response to the question, I will provide a link up where you can post a link to your blog, if you choose to write about it, too. If you don't have a blog, you can write your response in the comments. If you don't want to do either of those things, perhaps you can write your response in a journal, or talk about it with a friend. (I also recommend reading the book, as it will help you dive much deeper into the questions.)

When we get done with the questions from Steve's book, I have some other questions I have used in Scripture studies or explored in conversations or been pondering, which I would love to explore here, too. (I might even start sprinkling those in between his book questions... we'll see.)

I am struck by the beauty of having a new beginning in this space that starts with the book Beginnings. I am excited to see what new life is coming. 

Here's our first question, from page 25, at the end of the chapter about light: What do you most long to hear from God these days? 

Check back next week for my reflection, and to share yours, too.  I can't wait.

One year ago today, I stepped from the job I knew into the wilderness of an unknown future. I wandered there for quite awhile. It was dry and difficult, but also a place where God spoke. After all, the Hebrew word for wilderness is midbar, and the root word of midbar in Hebrew means to speak. In the Scriptures and in our lives, the wilderness always seems to be a place God speaks. We hear whispers about who we are and who we are not, about how we are trusting and how we are holding too tight, and about how to let go of the trappings that have enclosed us so we can be embraced by our Creator.

The wilderness is not a place I would have chosen to go, but it is exactly the place I needed to be. 

If you are one of my regular blog readers, this is not news to you. Many of my reflections last year were about what I was hearing on this journey of sorting out who I was and where I was going. 

One year later, I look back and am in awe of all that has transpired and how it has led me to where I am. I have never felt more like the real me than I feel right now. I have a sense of my own calling, and am living out a beautiful mosaic of doing those things as my vocation. My OneWord 365 was "tov" and wow, is that a word that inhabited my life. 

As I look with anticipation and hopefulness towards a new year, I can't help but to look back on the year that has been, and be filled with gratitude for it, even the painful parts. 

There are a few people who have been particularly helpful as I have struggled my way through this new beginning. One of them is Steve Wiens. He is my friend and my pastor, and someone who has spoken into my life in powerful ways over the years I have known him. Whether through coffee conversations, sermons, blogposts, or podcasts, Steve has a way of calling out the best in those he is with. He has helped me find courage, believe in my own potential, and trust in a God who never stops redeeming my life.

Today, Steve's book, Beginnings, hits the shelves, and the timing could not be more perfect. Beginnings is about the first days of creation, and noticing how they form a pattern that repeats itself in the Scriptures and in our lives. It is a deeply redemptive book that gives you the chance to hear Steve's voice calling out the best in you, just as it has for me. 

It is a book for anyone who believes or wants to believe that...

"God wants to usher all of us into new beginnings, no matter our motives and no matter how blurry our picture of God. God isn't finished creating and recreating, and it's precisely because God is continually generative that we keep getting invited to grow and change and become, despite the fact that we keep landing ourselves in the same old garbage heap that we found ourselves in last year, and the year before that." - Steve Wiens, Beginnings, page 8

It is a book for anyone whose soul stirs when they hear someone say...

"Do you dare to believe there are seeds of life planted in you by God that ned to be born? What would it mean for you to give birth to them, as messy and difficult and dangerous as that may be?" - Steve Wiens, Beginnings, page 52

It is a book for anyone who wants to give up and needs to be reminded...

"One of the great invitations of any beginning is to follow it through its life cycle rather than demanding that it stay the same. Beginnings move from waiting, to hoping, to abundance, and then, finally, to their inevitable endings. We cannot cheat that life cycle, no matter how much we want to or how hard we try."  - Steve Wiens, Beginnings, page 82

It is a book for anyone who needs the hope of the words...

"When you stop running away from who you are, you will turn to find Someone calling you to return to who you are. Then you will see the names you assumed were scars, covering the innocent and beautiful name that has been yours from the beginning of time." - Steve Wiens, Beginnings, page 139 

It is a book to highlight, save, and reread until the binding falls apart, any time you face another new beginning in your life.

I want to give a copy of Beginnings away to you. It's the start of a new year. What kind of new beginning do you hope for as you look forward? Comment and share a word or a story. On January 8, one week from today, I will randomly choose from the commenters and mail you a book. 

If you don't win, or even if you do, you can also go buy one. This is not a sponsored post. I get no benefit whatsoever from you following that link and making a purchase. I just want to you to buy it because it's good, and you won't regret it.

Just to prove it, let me leave you with one more quote. One that I like so much that I made it into an image. Put it up on your wall, save it to your phone, dare to believe that it could be true.

May your 2016 be touched by a God who makes things new.

Stage 1: It's time! We're going to do the house project!... Wait for weeks while the contractor goes through the back and forth of getting a permit from what is apparently a very picky city office.

Stage 2: Wow! Look at that! A whole segment of our house was just torn down in a matter of hours!... Wait for what seems like forever for the late fall rains to stop so the ground will be stable enough for digging.

Stage 3: Hooray! They are digging the foundation!... Wait for the cement workers to have an opening to build the walls... wait for the city to come inspect the stability... wait for the walls to be fortified before filling the dirt back in... Oh, and wait for the rain again. Walk out the door to a huge dirt/mud pile sitting in the driveway for the entirety of this stage.

Stage 4: Look at that! They are building walls!

The temptation now, in the progress of this stage, is to forget the stops that will come after this start. There is such obvious movement now. After all, framing is actually a pretty fast process of house building, relatively speaking. But there are sure to be more weather events out of our control, or delays because of the holidays. There are also times coming where the work being done, like running electrical lines, is important, but more hidden.

What will be tempting next, in the waiting of this stage, will be to forget the progress that will come after the delays . 

Waiting is not static. It runs through cycles of hope and despair, forward movement and frustrating stillness. We anguish that the quiet stage we are is the place we will die, never seeing the end of the wait. We get pulled onto the momentum train, wishing for the wait to end sooner than is possible.

This is the struggle of Advent. Christ has already come, and yet, Christ is still coming. We celebrate God's redemptive work in ourselves and in friends who have found new futures we wouldn't have thought possible. We learn about the systematic injustices pushing people down and wonder how we might ever start to climb out of this pit. We see a beautiful sunset and marvel at a God who takes our breath away. We see death and pain and sorrow and sickness and lament to a God who seems too inactive. Already and not yet. Our faith cycles through times of feeling either word more tangibly than the other.

That's what waiting feels like. That's what Advent feels like.

I wonder if this Christmas, we can let ourselves feel both. Experiencing the joy of celebration does not mean we are callous to the pain of oppression. Lamenting the brokenness of a  messed up world does not mean we have to forfeit the simple pleasures of playful presents and delicious food. 

What helps me bear the starts and stops waiting is not ignoring the feelings of either, but by releasing my grip on the outcome. There is so much of life that is beyond my control, weather patterns being chief among them. No matter what I do, I cannot make the end come at a certain time or in a particular way. So holding the process with tight-fisted stubbornness does me no good.

The best I can do is to be fully me, to rest where I should, to engage where I can, and to let things unfold as they will. And to pray, pray, pray to a God who is good and trustworthy.

Wherever life finds you this Advent, I hope you can do the same.

The day before I had loaded a favorite Christmas song on my phone. I had anticipated how much I would enjoy hearing it, but I wasn't ready for the gush of memories that would flood me as I listened. 

Christmas seems to have unique role in helping us mark the passage of time in our lives. Few other parts of the year have us doing the same things on the same days over and over again. Every December, we put up a tree, and can't help but remember all the years of trees before this one. We hang ornaments and decorations, and think about who gave them to us or who made them, or how they looked in previous displays. Memories of pain, joy, and transition seem to attach themselves to objects, songs, and even the weather. 

On that drive, as the tears came, the recollection of how much in my life has changed over the last five years came with them. I thought about the three different states in which I have lived, the job I started and resigned, the old friends I left behind, the new friends I met, and the kids I have watched grow from toddler to big kid status. 

In this marking of time, I worshiped. I became overwhelmingly cognizant of God's presence with me through all the twists and turns, joys and sorrows, of my story.

Perhaps this is part of how the concept of Emmanuel can come to life at Christmas. We can look back and see how God has in fact been with us, even in places where we couldn't see it at the time.  

Some of you might be in a season like that right now, a time when God feels absent. Perhaps hope could more easily be found in the past than on the future, through remembering how God was with you before. 

For me, I got out of that car with renewed sense of gratitude and faith. Though there still many things in this world I don't understand, and ways I wish God would act, I cannot deny God's realness when I look at my own story. 

Emmanuel. God has been with us. God is with us. God will be with us.

P.S. If you're looking for some ideas for Advent and Christmas songs, here is a Spotify playlist I put together of some songs I really like. It includes the one that made me cry- Come and Worship by Bebo Norman.

One week ago, an entire section of my house was ripped off. It was shocking how little time it took for those walls to come tumbling down. Even though it was planned, even though it's part of a house project we have drawn up, it was still surprising to actually see the deconstruction take place.

It was also exciting to wonder at how everything would look when the blank space would be transformed, and our dreams would become reality. 

It has been a week, and that blank space has only transformed from being a dirt pit to being a mud pit. After a dry fall we were suddenly struck by a week of rain. 

The next step of transformation is digging a foundation. That can't happen until the ground is ready to hold the cement. After spending months working on plans, and weeks waiting on permits, we have had no choice but to continue to be patient. 

Until the earth is stable, the rebuilding has to wait. 

There's so many times in life when we are tempted to rush the process. Who wants to come home every day to mud pit next to the front door? 

The deconstruction can be fast, but the reconstruction is almost guaranteed to be slow. We need to know that the ground we are building our lives upon is stable and good and ready for all that lies ahead. 

What I am now walking out with my house, I have spent much of the last year walking out with my personhood and my faith. It was frustrating and messy and slow. I spent a lot of months with a mud pit next to my door. Yet, I know it's what was needed. The parts of the house that were torn down were someone else's rooms, not meant for me. The space I am living in now needed foundation and walls that would allow me to expand into who I was always meant to be. That kind of transformation takes time. 

I am learning that patience is one of the great acts of faith in our lives: patience with ourselves, with the weather that is beyond our control, and with the God who is listening to us sigh as we look at the mess we are coming home to each day.

The mud pit won't last forever, but it can't be transformed until the ground is ready. 

This is what a massage therapist told me last week while she cared for injuries still lingering from my car accident in June. I am fairly certain she could've told me the details of the accident before I described it, just from feeling the tension spots in my back. She described pain and trouble spots I didn't even notice until she pointed them out. 

In the middle of her work, she asked me if I ever wake up with side pain in the morning. I was a bit surprised at the insight of her question, and responded with a quick yes. It's always been a mystery to me where my side pain has come from. She said it was probably from my cesarean. That there is likely scar tissue still lingering around in my body and causing trouble. 

She noticed that my body is still hanging on to the trauma of my firstborn's birth. 

Tomorrow, my son turns nine. I've written before about some of the miraculous and crazy circumstances around his premature birth. It is something I will celebrate tomorrow.

I want to use my body's memory to jar my heart's memory- to remember not only tomorrow, but today. I want to remember the day before the miracles. 

Nine years ago today, I was in the hospital on bed rest, unsure of how long I would be there. My baby wasn't due for another eight or nine weeks, but no one thought we would make it that long. My blood pressure was spiking to 214/164, and my baby's fetal heart rate was dropping to 60. This was less than a week after I'd been diagnosed with *pre-eclampsia in the first place. There had been little time to process a pregnancy going so differently than we had expected or hoped. 

Nine years ago tomorrow, we celebrated the birth of a healthy baby boy. Eight weeks early, and tiny at 3 pounds, but pink and screaming and kicking and resting in our arms. We knew he would need to be in the NICU, but also knew he and I had both survived the birth. 

Nine years ago today, we didn't know. We didn't know how long the pregnancy would last. We didn't know how much worse my health might get. We didn't know how the baby would do at enduring labor. 

Nine years ago today, we could do nothing but wait, pray, and worry. I was angry at the person who quoted Romans 8:28 to me, who assured me that all things would work out for good. Because we didn't know that, not in the way that verse was being used. Somewhere in me, I knew that God was with us, and would carry us through whatever came to pass. But I didn't know what that would mean. And neither did anyone else.

We didn't know if the steroid shot had helped our baby's lungs, or if he would have lifelong asthma. We didn't know if my body or my baby would be able to handle labor. We didn't know if things would lead to a cesarean, and if that happened, if I would have a major seizure in response. We knew we were in the hands of good doctors, but risks were still there.

Plenty of people of faith have prayed and hoped and held vigil while in crisis, and ended up with different results than what we had. I knew that. Reassuring me with false promises about how everything would be okay was neither life-giving nor helpful. 

The day before, I needed the gifts that so many of my friends and family gave. The gifts of presence and empathy. The gifts of laughter and distraction. The gift of feeling like I was not alone. 

My body remembers the trauma, and I want to remember, too.

I want to remember how I was angry with God, and God did not abandon me. I want to remember the relationships that held me when I felt like the floor of life was dropping below my feet. I want to remember the messiness of a faith without easy answers. I want to remember the abundance of love and lack of shame of receiving help when I needed it. 

And I want to celebrate this body of mine, which so often frustrates me by not looking the way I want it to look.  I want to celebrate how she hung on nine years ago today, and brought my son and I into the hope of nine years ago tomorrow. 

Body, you can let go of the trauma now. My heart will not forget. 

* Spoiler alert from Downton Abbey Season 3: As a point of reference, Sybil had pre-eclampsia and died when it became full-blown eclampsia. Eclampsia remains a large factor in childbirth deaths worldwide. My disease was early onset, and progressed into HELLP syndrome. Without access to modern medical care, I, and the baby, would likely have met the same fate. Which, by the way, made that episode even more emotional to watch. 

This fall has been a bit crazy as we have sorted through a new family rhythm and schedule. My youngest has been a bit of an emotional roller coaster as he gets used kindergarten, my oldest to sorting through a homework routine with a new teacher, my husband is bearing the load of some demanding work projects, and I'm trying to balance the responsibilities of the hodgepodge that is my job situation right now. Most families and individuals could tell their own story of September stress, filling in the gaps with their own unique details. 

Yesterday after school, I told the kids that we must do something outside that afternoon/evening. These crisp and sunny autumn days are too precious to waste. We talked through a few options, and settled on biking to a nature area that's not far from our house. We brought a picnic dinner with us and set about exploring the trails. We spent the bulk of our time in this great area they have set up for kids to build forts with big sticks and whatever else they see in that part of the woods. 

It felt luxurious to do something like this on a Monday. The wisps of fresh cool air, hints of fall, and glimmers of sunshine were exactly what each of us needed. 

I realized on your way home that Monday nights were when we would've had soccer, if I had remembered registration. What a gift it was to us that we had no commitments. How wonderful it was to have the freedom to explore and the time to be together.

Jesus talks a few times about not worrying about our lives. I think any application of these verses to imply that we won't have failures or missteps or frustrations along the way does not line up with real life. Sometimes it does feel like God is not there, and it doesn't do our faith or our soul any good to push those doubts aside in the name of Jesus. It also does no good to quote these verses to someone with clinical anxiety, which is something totally different than we are talking about here.

Anxiety and doubts are one thing, worry is another. Worry is carrying problems beyond their time, be they from the past or the future. Worry is the weight in our hands that closes us off from receiving the gift of the present moment. Worry is guilt and shame and fear rolled into one annoying burden. 

On Monday, something rather magical happened. My mistake had been transformed into a beautifully ordinary yet amazing kind of gift, and I was able to receive it. Because I was able to receive it, my kids were able to accept it as well.

We went to bed with dirt under our fingernails, wonder in our lungs, and gratitude around our hearts. I hope I can do that more often. I hope you can, too.

May we drop the weight of worry and leave our hands open to hold joy. 

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" - Matthew 6:26-27

Today is a good hair day.

I was so convinced of this fact, that this morning I took a selfie to prove it. My bangs, which I recently cut and can sometimes be unruly, were sitting just how I wanted them to be.

I went to bed with wet hair last night, and woke up with a pretty crazy mop. But it the straightening iron and the wetting down to re-blowdry seemed to do just what I hoped it would. I was pretty pleased with myself. 

(You see where this is going, don't you?)

I went to a morning meeting, feeling professional and put together. I went to the Apple Store to get a long-time computer problem fixed, sure I looked cool enough to be in a hip place.

Then, on my way out of the mall, I got sidetracked by a sale rack at a store and ended up in the fitting room. At which point I finally caught a glimpse at the BACK of my head.

This picture was taken after I got home, and had actually done a little bit to fix it. I promise you the back of my hair looked worse than this picture... the ENTIRE morning...

I was horrified. 

How did I forget to look at the back? Wouldn't that be an obvious place to check for potential bedhead?  

There was a time in my life when a revelation like this would have filled me with shame, regret, and possibly tears.

But today I laughed. 

I laughed because in all the work I have done, in therapy, in enneagram, and in prayer, I have learned some things. I have learned to be honest. I can face my mistakes and blindspots with the knowledge I am loved. I have also learned to give myself grace. I know there are idiosyncrasies about who I am and how I operate that will always be more obvious to other people than to myself, and that is ok. 

I laughed knowing this is true for all of us. I was blind to my bedhead. Someone else might be blind to the toilet paper on their shoe. Neither are better or worse. They are just things that are hard for us to see. 

I also laughed in gratitude for the people in my life who have the courage to point out the bedhead, and the grace to love me well in the midst of it. 

May we all learn to love ourselves and each other with honest grace. 

Something powerful the enneagram shows us is that we all have more in common than we think.  

That's why the symbol begins with a circle. All of us hold all nine personality types to some degree. We simply default one type as our primary way of operating in the world.

Another thing we all have in common is that our personalities, in reality, are distortions. We are each born with unique and beautiful gifts that we are meant to bring to the world. But somewhere along the line, we get hurt. Someone lets us down, we fail, we feel like we are not loved... and our gifts turn into bricks and become walls. 

An ability to see and build goodness in the world turns into a perfectionism and drive to always get everything right. An ability to see others' needs and love them well becomes a savior complex and a need to be needed. An ability to be filled with joy and optimism becomes a desire for fun in the avoidance of pain.

Each of the nine types has their struggle. And every case, the path towards growth and the way of transformation is not to try harder. Trying so hard to do what was expected of us or to follow through on what we felt compelled to do is what led us to build these walls in the first place.

The path of development, both emotional and spiritual, is to realize we already hold the gifts we are trying so hard to reach. We do not need to grow our proficiency; we need to grow our awareness and grace. 

And friends, grace is a resource that never runs out. Grace is not scarce. God is always ready to hand us more. Grace for us and grace for those who have hurt us. 

I recently read something less than flattering about my type to a friend. And for the first time, instead of feeling defensive or ashamed, I laughed. I know it's true of me. I also know it's something I can't fix. All I can do is look at myself with the eyes of grace and look for God to do the transformation. 

Richard Rohr says "There's nothing to prove nothing to protect. I am who I am and it's enough. "

Amen.

 ----------

This post concludes my enneagram and faith series. I hope you enjoyed exploring this wonderful tool with me. It's likely that enneagram will come up again in my posts, but it won't be officially part of the series anymore.

If this series has raised your curiosity about what your type might be, or if you want to explore how feeling comfortable with your type can help you move towards growth and wholeness, please check out my enneagram coaching page. Don't worry if you're not local to Minneapolis, I can do coaching over Skype or FaceTime too. I would love to help you use this tool that I found so helpful in my life.

Here's how one person I've coached described the experience, 

"I had been reading Rohr's Enneagram book, and was fascinated by it. I took a few online quizzes and tried to nail down my number but I was having a hard time distinguishing between what I AM and what I WANTED to be. I reached out to Steph and sat down with her for a couple hours, and she led me through such an insightful time of discerning my number, how it plays out in the way I do life; my friendships, at work and in my marriage. What a GIFT it has been to continue to dig into the gifts and shadow sides, and become more self aware of how I respond to things. Steph has a gift for communicating, and a passion to help others get to know themselves, and God better. Whether you're a married couple, engaged, want to do this with a team at work, or just get to know yourself better, DO it. It's so worth the time and money and it's so fun!" - Brooke

One last thing, the announcement of the winner of the enneagram couples coaching from my previous post. And the winner is... Jenna Thompson! Thanks for commenting on the post, I look forward to talking to you more.  

They were easy to notice. Their bright fur stood out against the kelly green of the grass and the tawny bark of the trees. I paused to watch each of them for a little while. That's what you do when you come across rare beauty in the world. 

As I watched, I pondered an interesting twist of fate. The very thing that makes these squirrels so unique, the attribute that is their best grace to share with the world, is also the most dangerous thing about them.

For anyone to appreciate their distinctiveness, these squirrels have to come out of hiding. And when they do, they don't blend in. In order to share their uncommon gift, they must open themselves up to vulnerability.

I wonder if this is why Jesus told us to not hide our light under a bowl. We each hold gifts that are beautiful and wonderful and can bring so much good that people will praise the Father who created such loveliness.  But showing that light is vulnerable and risky and full of unknowns. 

 May you have the courage to show your beauty in spite of the risk. You hold a stunning light that the world needs to see. 

"Similarly it would be silly to light a lamp and then hide it under a bowl. When someone lights the lamp, she puts it on a table or a desk or a chair, and the light illumines the entire house. You are like that illuminating light. Let your light shine everywhere you go, that you may illumine creation, so men and women everywhere may see your good actions, may see creation and its fullest, may see your devotion to Me, and may turn and praise your Father in heaven because of it." -Matthew 5:15-16 (The Voice)

There is much to look forward to as autumn approaches. Many would join me in declaring it a favorite season. The hope of the leaves, temperatures, football games, smells, and tastes headed my way makes my heart do a little dance.

However, holding hands with that hope is angst. The free-flowing schedule of summer is about to be taken over by responsibilities, kick-offs, homework, and sports. I am overwhelmed in anticipation of all there will be to do and manage. Maybe for you, that day has already come. I have a few days left before it hits me.

The start of the new school year can feel like a Mack truck: it carries wonderful things in its trailer, but also threatens to run us over with its speed and weight. We too often stumble into November battered and bruised, wondering how we will make it to Christmas.

I've been thinking about what we can and should do now in order to be prepared for this onslaught. Parts of me want to cut anything and everything that is not essential so I have room to add in what is coming. But I think there is a better way.

This is the time to ask soul care questions.
What fills my soul? Could I do more of that?
What drains my soul? Could I do less of that?

Maybe its time to say no to an activity, even if it's been done before, because your soul will not be able to hold it and stay healthy. Maybe its time to say yes to an activity, even if you don't know where it will fit, because it will give you the strength you need to keep going.

This is the time to be discerning and courageous. This is the time to give yourself grace upon grace as you figure out how to move to this next season.

For my part, I'd like to offer you two gifts that I hope might help.

First, a video. Yup, like a crazy person, I made a YouTube video even though I don't know how to edit or follow any of the other rules of that genre. I just felt like something I experienced would translate better to talking than writing.

Last week, in part because of these coming changes, I was caught in some swirls of anxiety. What helped me make it through was a beautiful conversation we had at a Socratic Scripture Study. I wanted to tell the story of how God kept bringing the words back to me. I hope it might be a short thing you could add that could be a little soul care for today.

Second, an offer. (If you made it through the video, you already know about this.) I have encountered God in unique and powerful ways through Socratic Scripture study. When people gather with questions, authenticity, and love around these ancient texts, I believe the Spiritspeaks to us. So, I want to make it easy for people to experience it for themselves as they enter a season when soul care might be especially needed.

So, all my studies are free in the month of September. This is offer is probably only helpful for those of you who are local to Minneapolis, but anyone is welcome. See my Socratic Scripture Studies page for more information and to register.

Whatever you choose, I pray you can find hope and strength for your soul to thrive in the coming season. I love the encouragement of Jeremiah 6:16,

“Stand at the crossroads and look;
    ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
    and you will find rest for your souls."

It’s said that in marriage, opposites attract. 

I used to think that meant people were different in everything- one likes sports, the other likes art, one like parties, the other likes quiet, etc, etc. But lately I’ve been wondering if it has more to do with personality than interests. 

We tend to like to be around people who complement us. People with whom we have enough in common to understand one another, but also people who approach things differently enough to enrich our perspective. This might be true in marriage more than any other relationships.

I’ve been married 15 years now. Long enough to have learned some things, not long enough to have learned it all. I think a lesson I have been learning lately could be relevant to more than just me, so I’m going to share it today. It relates to enneagram, and how marriage effects the development of our centers.

I’ve written here before that enneagram places personality types in three different centers: the gut (our body and instincts), heart (our emotions and relationships), and head (our thinking and reason). Good decisions involve all three centers to some extent, but we each have a tendency to default to one or two above the other(s). 

One key to growth is realizing which center is our default, and consciously stretching the muscles of the other centers in order to find more balance.

I think marriage can inhibit us from developing our weaker centers.

My husband has strong head and gut centers. One of the reasons I love to travel with him is because he’s so good at it. He’s not thrown when things don’t go as planned. He is able to think through a way out, and he has the confidence to ask for or demand what’s needed in the situation. 

In that same situation, my heart center reigns, with my head center close behind, but circling in fear more than in reason. So I let him take the lead. It’s one of his gifts, after all, so why not let him use it?

Marriages often develop roles over time: one person does the dishes, the other mows the lawn, one does the bills, the other cleans the bathroom. I think, if we’re not careful, we develop personality roles, too. Though I do believe in marriage two become one, I don’t think that means we are meant to give up our personhood.

Two individuals moving towards health and wholeness make for a much stronger team.

After all these years with my husband, I am realizing I have an under-developed gut center. I’ve used his strength as an excuse not to find my own. When he is around, I don’t need to stretch that muscle, so I don’t. Ironically, he wishes I would. In fact, it drives him crazy that I don’t have more confidence. The very thing I default to him to take care of is the very thing he wishes I would take more time to develop. He loves me, and he sees how much more balance I would find if I could pull from my gut center when it was needed.

Ignatius saw that there were three ways to come to a decision. One is to prayerfully consider the pros and cons of each option (head center). Another is to notice the feelings we have as it relates to each option (heart center). The last is to notice how we already know what option to move towards, and to simply do it (gut center). All three of those practices are helpful, especially when done in awareness of the Holy Spirit’s presence in each. 

Knowing that my default is feelings, I need to consciously employ my pro-con list and impulsive side a little more often, and not just count on my husband to do so. I was made to have all three centers available to me. As I learn to access them, I will become stronger, and so will my marriage.

Have you noticed this in your own marriage? What are your ideas for not allowing your partners strengths to halt your own development?

*Since this post is focused on marriage, I am doing another giveaway! This time, of a couples enneagram coaching session. I will help you each understand your types, and think through how your types affects how you relate to one another and how you grow, individually and together. This can be done in person or on Skype if you are not local.

There are 3 ways to enter: 1. Comment on this post. 2. Share this post on social media. 3. Share my enneagram coaching page on social media. You can enter in any or all of the ways. Each way gives you one more chance to win. If you share on social media, make sure to tag @everydayawe on Twitter or Instagram or https://www.facebook.com/everydayawe on Facebook.

This give away closes September 3, 2015. Winner will be chosen at random, and notified by email or social media, depending on how the entry was made.

Good luck!

There is so much I love to do while I’m there, but there’s one thing I despise: I don’t like to drive the speedboat.

I like riding in the speed boat. I enjoy watching my kids ski or tube behind it. But, I flat out refuse to drive it. When I get behind the wheel, my heart thumps, my hands sweat, and my gut gets twisted in anxiety.

For some, driving a boat is easier than driving a car. There is wide open space in front of you. You don’t have to worry about staying in your lane or turning the right way. You simply watch for other boats, stay mindful of your speed, and go where you want to go… Which is exactly what I can’t handle. 

What if I don’t know where I want to go? What if I choose wrong? What if I direct the boat into danger? Why can’t someone just make lanes I can follow so I don’t mess this entire thing up???

So, my husband drives the boat, and I watch, missing out on what could be a grand adventure.

_____

There are many metaphors that could be used to describe God’s will. I used to think about it like a GPS. We drive, and God tells us where to go. If we go the wrong way, God reroutes us. There is a precise destination at the end that God will not fail to take us to.  Not only that, there is a best route to get there, and if we miss a turn, the drive is going to be much more frustrating.

There’s comfort in that idea. We are behind the wheel, but our lives are not ours to direct. It is simply our responsibility to follow wherever God tells us to go.

But what if God’s will is more like driving a boat? 

What if God is sitting next to us, sunglasses on, with a mischievous smile spread across His face. What if God is asking us that most dangerous of questions… Where do you want to go? 

Owning our desires is dangerous. What if I chose wrong? What if the risks are too high? What if I mess the whole thing up?

But what if that’s the grand adventure God is inviting you into? A life with God beside us, laughing in the wind, riding by our side in the spirit of possibility and wonder. Ready to help if we crash into a rock, but letting us step into the energy of forging out own way.

The wide open water is ahead of you. Where do you want to go?

Among the many things that made it difficult for me to see a therapist was the question, “Why this?”

I had been through many difficult experiences in my life. I didn’t understand why this particular circumstance was the one pushing me over the edge. Though I knew I was off, and felt I needed help, the things I was struggling with seemed like things I should have been strong enough to handle on my own. 

My therapist answered the question for me in our second session.

I told her the story about something that happened at work. Though I talked about it with fairly little emotion, the reality is it was making me want to shrink into a corner of my house and never walk out the door again. She heard beneath my voice to my heart, and spoke the truth, “Wow, that's hitting on every one of your deepest fears, isn't it?”

We all have fears. But some are so deep, we like to bury them beneath the others, with a few distractions piled on top for good measure. Vulnerabilities we try to avoid because they are the most difficult for us to handle. 

Now, here mine were, being dug up. Publicly. Of course I needed voices of reason and empathy to help me sort through what had been unearthed.

_____

One of the most challenging questions enneagram asks us to face is, “What are your deepest vulnerabilities?”

The answer to that question is crucial to our spiritual growth. It deeply impacts our ability to extend empathy and love. When we dig out our vulnerabilities, we also unearth our ability to extend grace.

I am shuffling my body as I write this. My anxious energy is pushing its way through my toes and my fingers, trying to get me to avoid what I know needs to come next. It is always easiest to write about my type as an example. Which means I need to share that thing I try to keep buried. 

As a type 2, my deepest vulnerability is a fear of rejection. Do you like me? Will you like me? What can I do so you will like me? These questions circle inside me all. the. time. Usually, I either avoid them or bury them. Or perhaps most often, try to make myself feel better by answering them in the shallowest possible way. (Hello Facebook!) 

When friends doesn’t have time to get together, I fight with the fear of what that means about the value our friendship plays in their lives. After getting together with a new friend, I fight with the fear of whether I said or did things that would keep that person from wanting to see me again.

Because of this vulnerability about rejection, there are things I feel like I should be able to handle that crush me. But there are other places where someone else might get crushed, but I can handle it. I’ve been told I’m good at receiving criticism, which is the vulnerability that can devastate a type 1. I am prone to disregarding my own needs for the sake of helping others, so the fear of being neglected that a type 9 struggles with feels foreign to me. A type 5 fears looking foolish, but I’ve fallen down that stairs enough in my life to have gotten over that one years ago.

We all have our junk. We are vulnerable when it comes to some things and strong when it comes to others.

It does me no good to compare, and wonder why that person over there is so much stronger than me. We cannot just “get over” our struggles, nor can someone else just “get over” theirs. Comparing is another way to avoid what needs to be done.

We need to do the hard work of admitting and facing our vulnerabilities. 

Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light. - Brené Brown

For me, this means putting practices in my life that remind me of my belovedness. When I know that at my core I am not rejected, but loved, it helps me face the relationships in my life with less manipulation and fear. Other people may be able to read one book about God’s love and feel like it’s covered. I read books like Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen and Surrender to Love by David Benner on repeat. I return to the book of Psalms and the Gospel of John over and over again. I put quotes from John O’Donohue on my email and in Evernote so I can return to them whenever I need them. I wrap up in the prayer shawl someone knit for me and feel held by unconditional affection.

Lately, thanks to the enneagram, I have been more conscious of facing the rejection questions head-on with love and grace. I’ve noticed they’re getting a little softer. I might even be able to press publish without fearing how I came across in my self-disclosure and whether you will read me again. Maybe. 

_____

Do you know what your deepest vulnerabilities are? How might you be able to face your them today? 

Want help figuring out your enneagram type and finding the answers to those questions? Remember to check out my enneagram coaching page for details of how I could be a voice of reason and empathy for what is getting unearthed in your life. 

May you have the courage to plunge
Into the wrestling and wonder
Of the formation of fresh life.

It will not be easy.
As the saying goes, nothing worthwhile is ever easy.

First, the seed must get buried.
Once deep in the ground,
The seed must wait in silence. 
Until the day comes that it cracks.
And becomes broken enough
For something new to come forth from inside. 
The seedling.
Once that fragile seedling of life emerges,
It must push its way through darkness,
Before emerging into the light.
Only then can it grow the buds of the future, 
As the sun and rain nourish what was once the seed
Into what it has always been meant to become.

May you know that the fight for life is worth the cost.
That wrestling is where your strength is built.

May you experience the deep goodness
Of the Creator’s presence with you.
The God who breathed being into humans in the first days,
Is asking you to trust.

May your heart quiver with excitement, 
Knowing that no matter how old you are
Or how you have lived before this day,
It is never to late to begin anew.
The seeds in you will never expire.

May you experience the hope
Sculpted into your essence.
May you know the God
Who never tires of expanding life.

May you breathe. 
May you wrestle.
May you desire.
May you dream. 

One way I experienced new life recently is through the experience of preaching a sermon at Genesis Covenant Church. I have had a long wrestling with teaching, and have often stepped onto the stage as someone other than myself. This experience was different. God helped me be me and bring what God had given me. It was a beautifully redemptive experience. If you want to listen, you can do so here.

In this post, I’m going to attempt to connect ancient Hebrew, the enneagram, and the importance of running as one of my spiritual practices. What?!? Hang on for the ride; here it comes…

_____

How would you define the word soul?

In many people’s minds, the words soul and spirit have become synonyms. We think of our souls as a sort of ethereal “otherness” that resides within our bodies, to be released upon the day of our death.

Though our souls are different from our bodies, they are also different from our spirits, at least in the Hebrew understanding. Both words are used in 1 Samuel 1:15, "But Hannah answered, “No, my lord, I am a woman troubled in spirit. I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord.”

The word translated soul in 1 Samuel 1:15 is nephesh. Nephesh is the word used in Genesis 2:7, "then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature (nephesh).”

Our souls are the whole of who we are. Our souls are what knit our minds, bodies, emotions, and spirits into unique creatures. 

_____

We tend to think the only important “spiritual” practices are the ones done in quietness and solitude. Though I fully affirm the importance of practices like prayer and study, I am also realizing anew the importance of exercise. Not only for our physical health, but for our soul health.

Exercise holds an interesting tension: it is a physical stress that reduces mental stress. I wonder if enneagram can provide one perspective about why that is the case.

In the concept of the enneagram, all personality types are connected by lines to two other types. Those are the types we move to in stressful states and secure states. Though our first response is to think stress = bad, my enneagram instructor pointed out that sometimes stress can bring out good things in us. In stress, we have access to another way of being in and viewing the world. 

Could exercise be a healthy way to access another type, and therefore, another piece of ourselves?

I am a type 2 (the loving person), which means in stress, I connect to the 8 (the powerful person). The 8 can be a bossy and controlling type, and I apologize to those who have experienced this side of me come out in periods of unhealthy stress. However, the 8 also carries a confidence and strength I don’t often have access to when I am stuck in my normal way of thinking. 

Both type 2 and type 8 are connected within my soul. Learning to access 8 in a healthy way puts me in touch with a part of myself that too often lies dormant. Accessing the 8 within me puts me on a path towards better integration and wholeness of the nephesh God made me to be.

I have recently realized how running affects me differently than other exercise. There is something about the independence of heading out by myself, pushing through tiredness, and forging my own path that awakens something important in me. I connect to my power and my body in a different way, and suddenly find great clarity of thought and peace of mind. It’s amazing how often I have epiphanies when I am out on a run. 

As I learn to trust the strength of my body, I learn to trust the strength of myself, and in an interesting tension of truth, I then learn to trust even more in the strength of the God who made me.

_____

What kind of exercise might provide you with healthy stress and awaken you to a different part of yourself? 

For a type 6 (the loyal person), who connects to type 3 (the effective person), it might be taking the risk and challenge of joining a competition, like a road race or a triathalon. For a type 5 (the wise person), who connects to type 7 (the joyful person), it might be finding a fun adventure sport like rock-climbing or waterskiing… The potential and the possibilities are great.

Whatever your type and whatever your activity, exercise can be an opportunity to integrate your body, spirit, emotion, and mind on a deeper level. As those pieces of you integrate, you step into a fuller picture of the beautiful soul God created you to be. 

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. - Psalm 139:14

How do you want other people to describe you?

Most of us have several answers to that question. We hope to be loving or successful or funny or mysterious or exciting or mellow or any number of other characteristics. Whether they are attributes we already see in ourselves, or qualities we envy in others, they are traits we want to have. 

The enneagram helps us notice how what we would put on that list is part of what makes us unique. We are different people with distinct priorities about who we are and who we want to become.

The enneagram also helps us to see the shadow side of our list.

On the flip side of our attribute aspirations are our attribute aversions. If we want to be seen as loving, we don’t want to be seen as selfish. If we want to be seen as mellow, we don’t want to be seen as intense. If we want to be seen as successful, we don’t want to be seen as a failures. 

So, we develop defense mechanisms. Some of us deny those parts of ourselves; others of us project those traits on others. Some of us numb out so we don’t have to experience the feelings on the flip side; others of us over identify with the traits we want, as if the other side didn't even exist.

Too often, Christians encourage these defense mechanisms by laying all sorts of “shoulds” on ourselves and others- we should be generous, we should be kind, we should be peaceful, we should be faithful… And so we repress, deny, and project the flip side, all in the name of “spiritual growth.”

The truth is, we move towards health only when we embrace the whole of who we are. We don’t need to push away the flip side, we need to reframe it.

As an example, let me use myself. I am a type 2, which means my highest attribute aspirations are to be loving and helpful. Which means I don’t want to be seen as selfish or needy. But if I deny those parts of myself, I am likely to either burn-out or get filled with pride about how it’s everyone else that needs help, not me. 

Instead of pushing away the words selfish and needy, I need to reframe them into the concept of self-care. I need to know that I am a human being with limits. I need to ask for help sometimes. And I need to know that when I do, I am not loved or valued any less. The irony is, it is only when I do that reframing, it is only when I embrace my limits and messiness, that I can be the genuinely loving person I aspire to be. Until then, my efforts to help will be tainted by my aspirations to be seen as loving in order to feel my worth.

In Life of the Beloved, the great Henri Nouwen says,

“I have come to realize that the greatest trap in our life is not success, popularity or power, but self-rejection… Self-rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us the “Beloved.” Being the Beloved expresses the core truth of our existence.”

May you find the courage today to reframe the flip side. May you embrace the whole of who you are, knowing you are loved as-is. No matter what.

——

It’s time to announce the winner of the giveaway! Last week, when I kicked off the enneagram and faith series, I announced a contest. Any who commented on the post, shared the post, or shared my coaching page, would be entered to win a free enneagram coaching session. Those who did all three were entered three times. I used Random Result to generate a winner.

And the winner is.... Beth Van Maanen. Congratulations! I'm looking forward to our coaching session. I'll email you to talk details.

Thank you to all who entered. As a consolation prize, I'd like to offer you a 40% discount on my coaching services. Check out my enneagram coaching page to learn more.