Jamie Howard Taylor

New Website!

2018-03-03T19:37:00.003-08:00

Please join me at my new website!

Jamie Taylor

FINDING BRAVE :: CHAPTER TWO

2017-12-10T17:17:00.000-08:00

*Did you miss CHAPTER ONE?

The Assured Agoraphobic

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power

and of love and of a sound mind.” 2 Timothy 1:7

We moved to another state shortly after the birth of our first child. With everything I was feeling, it seemed like the worst possible idea. It would involve leaving everything I had known, to acclimate to a new city, home, and church. My husband, Brian had accepted the invitation to serve as a Youth Pastor at a small, charming church in the beautiful state of Tennessee. There was no way I could have known how this time in our life would contribute to the mending of my mind. It was here that I learned to take baby steps towards bravery. It was the loving people in our church who would hold our hearts and our hands as we navigated the journey to healing.

Even the most timid of characters can at times put on a brave face, and enter into the drama of life with an assured demeanor. Some of us are even experts in the field of this kind of helpful hypocrisy. I excelled in this exercise. I was once told that I deserved an Oscar for my acting, because my friends had no idea I was struggling. My friends have informed me that even during that time I came across assured, confident, and focused.

Those traits were the furthest thing from reality the evening we arrived in the charming town of Clinton, TN. My heart was pounding as we drove up to what would be our new apartment, and immediately spent time with our new parishioners. They were there to help us move in, and then spend the rest of the evening eating and begin getting to know each other a little.

I suppose it was a blessing that my allergies went into hyperactive mode, since they required me to ingest an antihistamine to help counteract my symptoms. My anxiety soon turned into medication induced apathy, as I struggled to stay awake. I sat, trying to have a conversation with the people we had arrived to minister to. I laugh now at the first impression I must have been making!

In the weeks that followed, I was able to settle into our new life with a certain level of success. I required help going to the grocery store, and making it to my appointments, but there was a reassuring peace that settled over me. Our little town was forgiving and kind. It seemed like the perfect location for healing.

I can remember nights when I would sit in bed, filling the pages of my journal with reflections about my state of mind, praying that God would continue to deliver me. I had days when I felt that I was making progress with my emotions, and other days when I would recoil in fear from the smallest of tasks.

Some of the hardest days were Sundays. I loved our church and the people in it, and yet there were weeks when I felt like I couldn’t stand the thought of being surrounded by even a small crowd of churchgoers. They were so sweet, but I was equally scared. I was terrified of normal life; afraid to tell the truth about who I was. I was always stuffing my feelings down -- pretending that the lump in my throat was only a figment of my imagination. I spent every church function hiding the truth about why I didn’t want to participate, or doing my best to barely make it through.

I was the assured agoraphobic. I crafted a demeanor that exuded courage and confidence, while living in fearful expectation that something terrible was going to happen.

I never wanted to leave my home, unless I was sure of the outcome. My heart pounded, and my breath came haltingly as I pulled out of the driveway and made my way into the sleepy community. Some days I could only handle one store, one appointment, one visit. Any more than that would leave me exhausted and on edge. I was always prepared for the worst, convinced that if it could happen to anyone, it would happen to me. I was excruciatingly self-aware -- noticing every unusual sound, unfamiliar ache, and uninvited sensation that coursed through my surroundings, whether body or mind.

It was during this time that I cried out to God for deliverance. And, I counted each trip to town without a panic attack as a certified victory. My heart would leap with excitement when I realized I was able to have lunch with a friend without escaping to catch my breath in the privacy of the bathroom. I could function in my fear. I could manage my misery. I could live.

Sometimes you just need to know that you can survive. Even though you may be struggling to wake up and live your version of normal, it has to be enough to just emerge each day, a little more victorious than the last. I didn’t know at that time that showing up was brave enough. That climbing up a mountain of uncertainty was courageous. I was so focused on the things I thought I couldn’t do, that I missed noticing what God was giving me the strength to do.

What I didn’t realize then was that a certain amount of mask wearing is normal, and even encouraged. We don’t want to enter every single social function with all of our insecurities and messiness of life out there for everyone to see. We’ve all been around those people who spill every negative part of their life when you ask a simple “how are you?”

I would never advocate for that type of transparency. The kind where everyone around you is aware of every tragic detail in your life. There is a time and place for those kind of conversations, but spilling all the bad parts of our lives on every unsuspecting individual that approaches us is not encouraged, or socially acceptable.

On the flip side, more often than not, we tend to pull all the negative parts of our lives inside, hiding them from the viewing public. Even our closest friends are not aware of the intensely personal battles we are fighting. That kind of mask wearing is not or ever should be encouraged. True healing isn't possible until we drag the pain and suffering into the light and destroy its power.

At that point, I didn’t feel comfortable saying the words… “I have agoraphobia.” “I am struggling with panic disorder.” “I can’t go to the grocery store without hyperventilating.” “I wake up many nights in a cold sweat, and have no idea why.”

My desire for others to perceive me as a confident person, overwhelmed my desire to be free. I would rather pretend than let the walls come down and allow vulnerability to rule the day. And the cost of keeping silent was high. I was never completely myself. I would paint a smile when I should have let the tears flow. I would hide away in my home, when I should have been throwing the door open wide, and escaping to the beautiful place of transparency where I would find the support of my truest friends.

I remember one evening at a women’s retreat that took all my courage to attend. I was discussing life with a good friend of mine. In the quiet of our hotel room, I summoned enough courage to tell her a little part of my story. I let her see a glimpse of the real me. That tiny bit of transparency was liberating. If only I would have continued down that road a little further. In telling only a part of the truth, I continued to feed the lie, because I wouldn’t be completely honest. Looking back, I see that my exhilaration at telling even a small part of the truth was short-lived. I found myself right back where I had started. Lying to others, and most tragically, lying to myself.

I was a masterful artist at living this agoraphobic life. I knew how to paint a vivid picture for the world to see. And that masterpiece cleverly disguised the tones of grey that hid underneath. I was an artful deceiver in a clever disguise.

But the disguise wasn’t working well. It’s easy to fake people out for a few hours maybe, but that kind of hidden life is not sustainable over time. Each time I displayed vulnerability, my armor began to crack. Suddenly, being myself felt less like an option, and more like a necessity. All the while knowing if I let the fear creep out and show it’s ugly face, there would be no hiding again. “They’ll know my secret, and will never view me as brave again,” I told myself.

If you find yourself in a similar situation, I encourage you to rid yourself of the disguise. Run, don’t walk, towards a place of vulnerability and openness with the people who know you best. Don’t be afraid to tell them what you are feeling. Don’t let the fear of misunderstanding keep you from living an authentic life. Your sanity is worth far more than someone’s perception of you. It doesn’t matter. They don’t live your life. They don’t endure the pain you experience daily. More times than not, the humans who surround you will step up to the plate, lending you the empathy you so desperately need. Because we all have unique stories that sound similar.

The people we see each week are fighting their own battles. Or, they have fought similar battles, and many of them have won. The experiences that shaped them, and the reactions they learned to cultivate can be life-changing for you!

Wouldn’t you know that as soon as I began to share those hidden pieces, I discovered that nobody actually cared that I struggled with agoraphobia. They literally didn’t care. It was such a relief. They were sympathetic, and even sometimes expressed that they too had gone through a similar period of time. There was no judgement; no condemnation. There was only varying levels of understanding.

This realization brought freedom. There is power in the knowledge that each one of us has parts we keep hidden, and that perfection is never actually underneath the disguise we so carefully maintain.

Finding Brave :: Chapter One

2017-12-05T11:53:00.000-08:00

Baby Blues

“in my experience, the words “now just calm down” almost inevitably have the opposite effect on the person you are speaking to.”

- Elyn R. Saks

THE STARTING POINT

Most of us have heard of the unfortunate possibility of something called the “baby blues.” Pregnancy and childbirth have a way of changing the course of a woman's inclination towards normalcy. This was the case in my personal experience.

I've always been a firm believer in the power of multi-tasking. And, it just so happened that my first child was born in the middle of one of my greatest multi-tasking periods. I was graduating from Nursing School, taking my state boards, and juggling side jobs right before our eldest made her grand entrance. I began to realize very quickly that I was finding it difficult to cope. The baby blues turned me into a person I didn't recognize.

First of all, a “new mom” is subjected to a great deal of pressure. Everything has to be just right. She must feed the baby at the proper time, in the proper method. According to some camps, she must sleep train her child beginning at birth. According to others, she must allow that child to sleep next to them until close to their 18th birthday. And even though that is said in jest, a great variety in standards for parenting are typically conveyed to new parents.

How is one to sort that out? For me, I perused books, magazine articles, and talked to countless people about their particular methods. After consulting with a great crowd of witnesses, I realized that I now had another problem. I had so many thoughts about the art of parenting, and yet truly had no idea where to begin with any of it.

To be completely honest, I had a great deal of expectation for my first childbirth experience, and for the days that would follow. I can remember talking to friends and telling them the plans I had for the proper care and feeding of my child. I knew what was best for babies, and I couldn't believe any mom would deprive their children of their God-given right - "mother's milk!" I would never be one of "those moms" who embraced convenience over the correct method of nutrition. (I beg you, dear reader, to offer me grace)!

Little did I know that complications after birth, and repercussions that followed would hinder that precious commodity that I held so dear. I found myself, at the end of 2 weeks, with a screaming, starving newborn, and no answers to the questions I was asking. How could I be failing in the most simple of tasks? I couldn't even keep a baby healthy with what I considered to be the only way to feed my children. What would people think if I changed courses for a bottle with carefully crafted formula? What would I think of myself?

With a tear stained pillow, and what felt like a disappointing decision, I sacrificed my ego for the sake of my child. I was humbled. I felt like a failure. A fake. A fraud. Why had I been so hard on moms just like me? Why had I assumed that I knew anything about their decisions. And, why was it any of my business in the first place? I wanted someone to look me in the eye, and affirm that I was a good mom, even if I did things differently than others. I was keeping my sweet baby girl alive, and somehow that seemed inadequate because of the level of expectation I placed on myself.

I tell you this to let you in on the ground level of my struggle with control. When you feel as if you cannot control what should be the simplest of things, you imagine your world is spinning out of place.

To make matters worse, I had just finished a degree in Nursing. The medical field was something I had wanted to be part of my entire life. - And, I wasn't sure I could deal with the expectations. As much as I loved caring for people, I struggled with certain parts of the job. I didn't handle stress well, and didn't want to admit that I might not be suited for the one thing I had always wanted to do. In my mind, I was a failure.

I found myself in an awkward position which felt terrifying. I was a new nurse who wasn't sure I could cut it as a nurse, and a new mom who wasn't sure I was capable as a mom. And then it happened.

THE PANIC ATTACK

While I wore many hats during this period of time, one of my favorite titles was caregiver. My husband Brian and I worked for an elderly lady, doing odd jobs and serving as her companion. The day of the attack started much like all the other ones, as my newborn daughter and I went to work together. I had been asked to drive my sweet lady to her Dentist appointment and there was nothing that could have prepared me for what was about to happen.

As we eased our way into the city traffic and came to a stop behind a line of waiting cars, I suddenly felt all the air leave my chest. I felt as if I couldn't take a deep breath, and my head began to communicate confusion to the rest of my body. I knew I had to get off the road before I passed out. My heart was beating at an insane speed, and the breaths I was taking were so rapid that even my thoughts couldn't keep up with them. I turned to the lady I cared for, willing her to look out for my well-being for a minute. "I have to stop." I told her. "I am not feeling well."

If only I had known then what I am very aware of now! I would have a whole arsenal of helpful words to tell myself. But, I had no coping mechanisms at that time and could not coach my scared brain into obedience. Frankly, I didn't even know what I was dealing with. More than all that, I would never admit that I was dealing with an anxiety attack, because in my ignorance, I believed only weak people dealt with that problem. I had much to learn about the complexity of the mind and how it can be hijacked without your consent.

After an embarrassing turn of events, which included my Dad coming to help me get home, I collapsed into an exhausted heap. Little did I know that I had just lived through a whopper of a panic attack. The funny thing is that looking back I can see I had dealt with small anxiety attacks before this but had brushed them off as circumstance or mood. It would be a long time before I would admit I had a problem that needed addressing. I was not aware at this point that there might be lingering issues in the recesses of my mind needing to be coaxed out and discussed. Instead, I pushed away any idea that I had anxiety. I was just going through “some kind of phase.” I believed that if I wouldn't tell anyone about it, somehow it would go away.

This is almost laughable, since I could hardly drive without hyperventilating. Seriously, I was a mess. I wanted nothing to do with crowds, especially when it came to church. I remember one particular Sunday morning. We decided to have a ceremony in the service to dedicate our daughter to God. This involved the very vulnerable act of walking up to the front of the church and standing at the front for what felt like an exorbitant amount of time. I had never heard of the term “agoraphobia” (abnormal fear of being helpless in an embarrassing or unescapable situation that is characterized especially by the avoidance of open or public places), but the definition of that word is everything I was feeling. I held on tight to Brian's arm, willing myself to get through this moment of inescapable panic. At the time, I told myself that I needed to eat or something. My blood sugar might be low, because I don’t have a psychological problem. I would be fine. I wanted to sit down, leave, or be anywhere but where I found myself at the moment.

Perhaps you too have found yourself with the racing heart and mind, unsure of why a seemingly significant circumstance is evoking such panic.

You are not alone. There are many of us just like you. This is not some unexplained phenomenon and I can promise you that you can find help and healing from that unquenchable desire to run away. You will read in the upcoming chapters about ways to find hope and healing.

THE ENDLESS EXCUSES

One of the coping mechanisms I employed during this time was the delicate art of the perfect excuse. When you can’t drive without serious fear, and time spent in a room with other people makes you physically ill, it becomes difficult to have a social life. While I had never been the life of the party, I certainly enjoyed times of fun with friends. And, suddenly I was faced with a very real dilemma. I could let them in on my very real time of crisis, or I could pretend that everything was fine, and allow them to conclude that I was perfect in every way.

Fearful seasons have a way of pushing us to the edge of dishonesty, don’t they? We incorrectly assume that no one else is dealing with the fears that we are, and because of our desire to appear in control, we lie to ourselves and everyone else. Instead of opening ourselves up to a scenario where others empathize with our human weaknesses, we close up our hearts and minds to the idea of sharing our imperfect life.

Such was the case during the time of my acute panic. I had never lived a life that was characterized by a continual cold sweat. And yet, I had lived with a certain level of ease up until then. I was afraid that if my friends and family saw me in that light, I would lose all credibility as a calm, confident person. So when they would ask things of me that I could not handle without fear, I would craft the perfect excuse as to why I was unable to join them. I wonder now what some of them were thinking. How many of them knew what was actually going on, and just let me lie to cover up the real reason for my avoidance.

Let me stop at this point and tell you that it’s okay to say no. The problem with the way I handled things is that I was dishonest with myself, and with others. Instead of saying, “I’m going through a tough time right now, and I just can’t do that at this time,” I would come up with an excuse to avoid telling the truth. I would even fabricate a clever commitment that would cause a conflict with the event being presented. Even if it was something as simple as my new baby, I would use any excuse to get out of facing fear. Running away is never the answer, even if it feels like the best option.

I do know that some of my family and friends had an idea of what I was dealing with. They tried to talk to me about depression and anxiety. I brushed it off, declaring to myself and the world that this was just a phase -- something I was “going through.” I wouldn’t see a doctor for it. I wouldn’t try to get to the root of it. I would just secretly search the internet for other people like me who couldn’t drive, or go shopping, or sit in a crowded room.

I found those people. I discovered a few helpful articles that gave me insight into how I might get through this time of acute panic. While coping mechanisms are extremely helpful, they are only truly effective if used in conjunction with treatment. The component I was missing was a professional counselor to help me understand this vast world of anxiety that I had previously been a stranger to. Anxiety and Depression are no small feat, and should be attacked with every arsenal possible. Those of us that deal with it must let our guard down to be able to deal with the underlying issues.

And in all of this, the driving motivation was control. I wanted to appear to be in control, even if that was the farthest thing from the truth. The truth was that I had lost all control. I couldn’t face the world and win...I knew it. And, at that point in my journey, I was content with lying to myself and those around me, if it meant I could postpone my reality as a person who suffered with anxiety and depression. I didn’t want to be one of “them.”

I wanted to be the strong one; the woman who had more courage than most, who would fight with heroism and win at life. To me, admitting I was suffering from depression wasn’t courageous. Admitting to a reality that included irrational fear wasn’t brave. In my mind, I was strong when I suffered silently. Although I would nod with understanding when people would share their own struggles with anxiety, I kept my own experiences locked up inside. I lived in isolation and loneliness, peering through the blinds of my house, and my heart.

Click to read Chapter Two

Finding Brave :: Introduction

2017-12-01T09:59:00.000-08:00

When I first sat down to begin writing my experience with anxiety and depression, I didn’t have a fixed goal in mind. I was simply aware that the words needed to fill a page. My story needed to be shared, even if it was just with a small group of friends.

If there is one thing that I want to convey through my words, it’s the idea of freedom. I want more than anything for people to be free.

I lived for ten years with physical and mental chains around my body. I felt an overwhelming urgency to run, and yet my feet were enveloped in quicksand. I wasn’t sure I would ever feel “normal” again.

What is normal, anyway?

Normal is defined by the Merriam Webster dictionary as “not deviating from a norm, rule, or principle.” Another description is “conforming to a type, standard, or regular pattern.” One definition even goes so far as to say, “free from mental illness : mentally sound.”

My question in response to this information is this, “If so many people struggle with fear, anxiety, and depression, what does that say about the concept of normalcy?”

Why is it that so many of us can’t seem to break free to live a “normal” life?

I believe that one of the reasons it took me so long to find healing is because of the stigma attached to mental health concerns. I didn’t want a label. I didn’t want sympathy. I didn’t want to be different. So, instead, I lived my anxiety out as secretly as I could. My body suffered. My family suffered. And, my mind suffered to such a great extent, that I became physically sick as a result.

Every human will be faced with periods of pain, moments of fear and seasons of emotional ups and downs. That is the normal part of life. What wasn't okay, is what I experienced for a ten year period of my life. I lived a life with a preoccupation with worry, fear, and distress. I was terrified on a daily basis. I was bound with chains that felt impossible to break free from.

My journey to healing isn’t complete, because my story isn’t complete. There are however, intricate layers of healing that have brought me to a place of wholeness. I refuse to give up. And I won't stop telling others about how I am being delivered from bondage.

I'm happy to share my story with you.

It is my prayer that you find freedom from your chains of fear and anxiety, and that this book could be instrumental in helping you further along that path. Or if you love someone who fights this battle, that you would have more insight into their pain.

With Grace & Truth,
Jamie

Click to read Chapter One

Unknown

2017-09-29T10:09:00.001-07:00

Photo Credit: Unsplash

When walking into the unknown a special kind of trust is required.

I don't particularly like the unknown. When I'm faced with transition, whether small or large I tend to feel as if I'm teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to drop into a dark murkiness.

You would think that as a creative personality I would enjoy periods devoid of structure and predictability. Strangely, I haven't found that to be my experience. I find I like the freedom to choose my path, but dislike the moments when the path is unclear.

What is it about moments of perceived darkness that lead us to new levels of fear? That fear places a choke hold on our mind and emotions and we feel paralysis. It feels like quick sand that keeps us from moving forward because our circumstances hold us back.

They don't really hold us back, but we live under that impression.

One of the most unsettling times is when you have a variety of things up in the air. They may be nothing of great importance. But, the fact that you are connected to each one of them makes them significant to you. As humans we desire clarity. We long for that connected feeling of beginning to end. Completion. Finished.

Even if a particular project or important event isn't to the place of a satisfactory ending, it's comforting when things are going in the direction of significance.

I suppose that is the crux of the matter. That when things are in limbo, it creates the illusion of chaos, which feels insignificant. We feel small. Complicated. So very human.

That's where trust comes in.

I, you, we have to come to a special kind of transition in which we lay down our blueprint and trust the bigger plan.

We don't always get to see what's next; in fact our sight usually becomes clear as the sole of our foot makes it's descent into the upcoming step. That's why it's called trust.

Have you thought deeply about that word?

Trust defined is "[the] assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something."

Assured reliance

on

the character,

ability,

strength,

truth

of someone or something.

Another way of putting it would be "the ability to depend on someone who will pull through in every situation."

Well, clearly there is only One person who fits that criteria. I mean, I don't even feel that way about myself! I can't predict that I can rely on my character, ability, strength and truth of myself to pull me through what life brings my way. Can you?

That thought brings to mind the verse found in II Timothy which says, "If we are unfaithful, he remains faithful, for he cannot deny who he is." (v 13)

Now, I have no desire to take this verse out of context, but it brings with in the notion that even when everyone else is devoid of faith, there is One who remains faithful. No matter what. In every circumstance. We can trust Someone.

God created this world, set order in motion and then added some human beings to the creation. A couple of wild cards, mind you. These two humans took the way of unpredictability. Eve chose the fruit and offered it to her husband. They ate and their eyes were opened to a whole new world. They discovered the fruit of their disobedience. It involved hard work, sacrifice and a big dose of the unknown.

Death, hardship and cruelty all became part of the daily equation. I'm not being dramatic, mind you. This is the reality we live with everyday. To live is a risk.

I think that is why transitions (even small ones) can take your breath away. It's a reminder that you aren't in control. Anything could happen, and we don't like that "anything" part of the phrase.

I don't have a top secret equation that makes this angst go away. In fact, I think the tension that accompanies the human existence is there on purpose. I believe we need to live in that moment of unknown with our hand clasped tightly in our Sovereign's grip. He is the only thing that is truly faithful and trustworthy in all of the chaos.

Take heart today if you find yourself in the midst of transition. In the place of unknown.

It's a frightening place to be, but it's where a faithful God meets our desperate heart and brings calm assurance that He is not surprised one bit.

What Faith Can Do

2017-08-08T09:31:00.001-07:00

Photo by Tim Foster on Unsplash

Most of the time it's just me and the piano, singing praise to my Creator in the middle of my living room. I like it that way.

Today, however I had a flashback that I had to share with someone else!

I flipped through my collection of songs that I keep in a large black binder. I was drawn to sing the beautiful lyrics by Scott Davis and Scott Krippayne in the song "What Faith Can Do." As I began the familiar melody and the lyrics filled the air, I was immediately encouraged.

"Everybody falls sometimes | Gotta find the strength to rise | From the ashes and make a new beginning | Anyone can feel the ache | You think it's more than you can take | But you're stronger - stronger than you know | Don't you give up now | The sun will soon be shining | You gotta face the clouds to find the silver lining. || I've seen dreams that move the mountains | Hope that doesn't ever end | Even when the sky is falling | I've seen miracles just happen | Silent prayer get answered | Broken hearts become brand new | That's what faith can do."

As I headed into the second verse, I almost stopped singing, due to a lump that was forming in my throat. I was taken back to about seven years ago. I was playing and singing this song for the special music at church, the same church that I led worship for this past Sunday. It had taken everything within me to get up on that stage that day seven years ago and sing the following verse:

"It doesn't matter what you've heard | Impossible is not a word | It's just a reason for someone not to try | Everybody's scared to death | When they decide to take that step out on the water | but it'll be all right | Life is so much more | Than what your eyes are seeing | You will find your way if you keep believing."

At that time, I was in the middle of one of the biggest fights of my life, and hardly anyone knew it. The demons of anxiety and depression had such a choke-hold on me that I felt like I could hardly breathe. I don't know why I even said yes to getting up on that stage, except for the fact that I had parents who instilled a beautiful sense of service within me.

At that moment, in that sanctuary those years ago, I sang that verse with wish full thinking. I wanted to believe that I could take that step out on the water and know that everything would be all right. But you see, my reality told me that I would hardly make it through a grocery store line without a panic attack. That driving down the road without the pangs of fear in the pit of my stomach was a rarity. That peaceful sleep was elusive. That my life was meant to be one anxious moment followed by another by another by another.

Panic, agoraphobia and the depression that followed were the norm...so how could God allow the lyrics of this song to ever become my reality?

I sang it anyway. With a trembling voice, and hands that shook...I sang with passion. Because I wanted to do what the Bridge said:

"Overcome the odds | When you don't have a chance | (That's what faith can do) | When the world says you can't | It'll tell you that you can!"

Today when I belted out that bridge with no one listening except God (and my four kids), I had such joy well up within me! Because I have overcome!

Do I have rough days? Yes! Do I have moments of anxiety? Yes! But does it rule my life anymore? NO!

Just like it says in Psalm 18:6 "In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears."

That's what happened! I cried out to God, and He heard me. My journey to freedom has taken a total of eleven years, but that fact doesn't negate the fact that I am a flat. out. miracle.

Every time I lead worship at my church, I am reminded of this miracle. Few know about the times I felt like I would die on that stage. In the past, when I played the piano or sang a song I was filled with the most excruciating anxiety you could ever imagine. Some days I saw stars because I was so close to blacking out. Most of the time my body wouldn't stop trembling. My breath came in gasps.

I know what you might be thinking... "What changed?"

I did.

I allowed God to change me.

A little over a year ago I walked into my first counseling appointment and let all the words fall out. And I kept going back for a whole year. I suffered the pain that comes from tackling the monster of anxiety. It took a complete re-framing of my mind!

I let go of my need for perfection. I trusted Jesus as my Savior in the way I was meant to all my life. I leaned into His grace and just fell back in His arms.

I didn't need to perform anymore. I didn't need to feel responsible when things didn't go as planned.

It was me and my Savior. It was Jesus. It was all Jesus.

That's what faith can do.

Faith in a Savior who is holding this whole world in His hands.

Faith in the God, most High who is above every single idol/god/imagination in this world.

Faith in the Holy Spirit, who is still working today...comforting hears, convicting souls and pouring Himself out on those who ask.

This faith helps me on the days that I feel that familiar ache of anxiety try to creep in. It gives me the strength to look that problem square in the eye and say, "Not today." It leads me to the living Word of God in which I find all the answers I could ever need.

I'm not perfect, because I'm not home yet. But the perfect Christ is covering me -- sustaining me -- renewing me day by day.

If you find yourself in a stronghold of fear, anxiety or depression today, I want you to know I'm praying for you. Right now. As I type these words, I am asking the God of all hope to fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him. I'm praying that you will overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit (Romans 15:13)

Overcome the odds
When you don't have a chance
(That's what faith can do)
When the world says you can't
It'll tell you that you can

What I wish I would have known

2017-05-26T11:16:00.001-07:00

1. Fostering is going to hurt. A lot. You will think about the heartaches your foster kids have endured and it will break your heart. You will never see suffering in the same way again. Their stories will stay with you in your head, and their faces will forever be imprinted on your heart.

2. People won't understand why you choose to foster, sometimes even your closest friends and family. Most will be supportive, but there will be those who discuss your choice behind your back and say things to your face that will feel like a punch in the stomach. It's okay. It's part of the process.

3. You will realize just how selfish of a person you are. Flexibility is your best friend when you foster, and you will absolutely hate how annoyed you get at interruptions. It will make you or break you, so my advice is to let it make you.

4. It can cause remarkable tension within your original family unit. Relationships will have to grow to accept a new person, and it will most likely be a difficult transition. You will have to be intentional to spend extra time with your bio kids, and give them a listening ear.

5. You will get angry at alcohol and drugs for how they come between the kids you care for and their families. You will want to scream with anger at how the parents will allow harmful behaviors to have priority over their own child.

6. You will become very frustrated by the hoops that have to be jumped through, and the system that you have to work with. It will get so frustrating that you will want to quit...often.

I also wish I would have known...

1. It will change you... forever. Your eyes will be opened to a different world that you didn't know existed. You may have known that children were mistreated, but when you live with the face of one who is neglected or hurt, you suddenly can't help but enter into their pain.

2. You will grow to love these kids with a fierce, protective love. You will do whatever it takes to help them understand how much you want them to succeed. You might even rub your foster child's back every night and sing the same song over and over, just hoping that someday when they are older, they will hear that song and have a comforting memory associated with it.

3. You will wake up each day with a purpose greater than yourself. You won't be able to walk away from this other world that you have entered into. Your life will become less about having a bigger TV, and more about making sure your foster child has a bike.

4. Your family will be forced out of their comfort zone, and it will be good for them. Their eyes will see suffering in a new way, and it will have a face attached to it forever. They will have the opportunity to learn empathy, a skill that involves entering into someone's pain.

5. Your life will stop being so much about you, and more about how you can leave a mark on a child's life that you may only have for a few weeks or months. You will come up with clever ways to help that child feel love, regulate their emotions, and you will pray that they form a bond with you. Because bonding is one of the most important "skills" for them to acquire.

6. You will come to appreciate the system that surrounds these children and tries it's best to help the child achieve long term success. You will realize that the Case Workers, Guardians, Parent Coaches etc, are all over worked, under-payed, and doing the best with what they have. You will not always see eye to eye with them, but you will need to learn how to work together in order to make successful transitions a possibility.

Foster parenting can be a wild ride, but it's one I'm thankful I've had the privilege of being on. I am a different person today because of it. I pray often that the little lives we've loved in our home will never be the same. That they will grow and flourish into incredible human beings because someone was willing to help them during a time of transition.

If you are thinking about fostering, but worried about what it means, I get it.

Just know...It won't be an easy task, but it will be rewarding. You may wonder if you can continue, and you may even take breaks from it along the way. You will learn that you need boundaries and self care. You may find that your involvement in the system looks different from time to time.

The point is, these kids are worthy of your time and attention. They are worth getting up in the middle of the night for. They are worthy of a caring home with a comfortable bed. They are worth it.

What I wish I would have known, is that your life may change forever, but you won't want to go back to the way it was before.

I want.

2017-05-19T10:45:00.000-07:00

Image via Unsplash

I have been experiencing an unusual case of the "I wants" recently. It's most likely due to the promise of Spring peeking right around the corner, that brings with it the desire to renew the old stuff in my life.

I look around my home and see all the projects that would seemingly make my life more meaningful when completed.

I walk into my closet and am faced with the disorganization I have allowed to invade my everyday existence, and find myself scheming how I can acquire the latest and greatest tools to make that space work.

My kitchen suddenly seems outdated and frustrating with it's creamy laminate floors and stock kitchen cabinets. I'm unsettled and ungrateful.

I often feel guilty when those thoughts creep in. After all, I've lived major portions of my life without perfection in home essentials, so why do I care so much?

I suppose there is something to be said for the way I am wired. I am a Creative by nature, so I love the renewing and restoring part of any project. I am inspired by color charts and the way textures can beautifully compliment each other.

There's nothing inherently wrong with finding pleasure in creative endeavors, but there is something off when we strive for perfectionism at every turn.

When our wants become an unending distraction to what our soul needs, we are the losers.

I'm challenged by the idea that our focus should be centered on the important work of renewing our minds. Of allowing the Spirit of God to remake our inner beings. We must cast off the distractions that take away from the ultimate goal of seeing. The goal of seeing our lives through the lens that our Sovereign God desires us to.

We must allow our sight to be restored.

In Mark's Gospel we read a telling of the interaction between Christ and a blind man named Bartimaeus.

And they came to Jericho. And as he was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a great crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, the son of Timaeus, was sitting by the roadside. And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart. Get up; he is calling you.” And throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. And Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” And the blind man said to him, “Rabbi, let me recover my sight.” And Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your faith has made you well.” And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him on the way.
Mark 10: 46-52

We have to be willing to throw off the cloak...the things holding us back from our healing. Matthew Henry writes the following, "The gracious call Christ gives us to come to him, encourage our hope, that if we come to him we shall have what we come for. Those who would come to Jesus, must cast away the garment of their own sufficiency, must free themselves from every weight, and the sin that, like long garments, most easily besets them..."

In my life the weight that often besets me aren't the big things. More often it is the little annoyances, frustrations, and feelings of discontent that hold me back. They fill my mental real estate and create a web of clutter that I often allow to mess up my day.

I know the key to real joy. I am aware that to the degree I pursue Christ, I will experience a feeling, or awareness that can't be taken away by simple circumstances.

When I am tempted by feelings of discontent, I have the power within me to focus on all the beautiful ways God shows up in my life.

First, He saved me. For real. I was a mess before He changed my life. Before surrender I lived an existence of striving.

Secondly, He changed me. He made me into a new creation. And He's not done yet! Every day I wake up is a day where God chooses to mold me into the person He thought of when He created me. I only have to keep letting Him have first place in my life.

Lastly, He loved me. Correction. He loves me. If all he did was die for me, it's enough. But, that's not all He's done. He walked before us. He came to earth as a real person with real hurts and human perceptions. And in His walking on this earth, He gave us a road map to a life of joy.

Psalm 16:11 says that "in His presence is fullness of joy." Jesus knew the secret to joy was perfecting His focus on His Father.

Similarly, when we feel our gaze shifting to things that can't bring us lasting fulfillment, all we have to do is spend time with the One who gave us time. Prioritize Him!

In John 15:5, His words give life and hope. "...I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing." To have true joy, we must abide (remain fixed in a state) in Him. We don't ever stop abiding. We don't ever stop living in His presence. And when we abide, we will produce much fruit.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. Those don't come by accident. You don't just sort of acquire those traits. We remain in Him, and He lives through us.

So practically speaking, when I find myself zeroing in on the things I believe to be imperfect in my surroundings, it's time to check my motives. I have to ask myself why I am hyper-focused on it? I need to consider the possibility that I'm looking to perfection in my home, in my life, my family to be the source of my joy.

If i'm obsessing about the state of my surroundings, instead of the state of my soul, then something is off. I'm very aware that the correcting of that skewed thinking can take time and purposeful redirection towards what really matters.

When the lack of perfection in my house and life is stealing my joy, I need to look deeper and make sure I'm not looking to the wrong things for my fulfillment.

I LOVE this passage of wisdom found in II Corinthians 4:16-18.

"Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal."

My house, my things, my worldly possessions will decay. Our bodies will decay. And while we don't need to neglect the improvement of those things, the better fixation would be on our inner self. What we think about. What we choose to dwell on in those quiet moments. Who we allow to control our inner dialogue. All of the outward striving to achieve perfection only serves to create a feeling of discontent and emotional instability.

I think we intuitively know that our bodies, our things are decaying. We know that there is more out there, which would explain why we feel like we need to change something again and again. It's why there are trends in the world. It's why there are "hot items," which will be old news before the year is over. We are working to impress people (sometimes ourselves) and all along our Creator is saying, Come to me. I'm literally all you need. He says in Matthew's Gospel,

"So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Matthew 6:31-34).

He cares about our needs. He will supply our needs. But, I think He desires to be our greatest "want." He tells us to seek first His Kingdom...His Righteousness.

So the next time I feel that sick feeling of discontent in my gut, I'm going to remember that He invites me to worry less about tomorrow, and more about His plans for my life, and for the lives of those around me. I'm going to continue to enjoy creative projects, and re-do things in my home. I'm going to continue to go work out and eat healthy food. But, I refuse to obsess about things that God clearly tells me to stop obsessing about.

I want. It's how God made me.

I just want to seek and pursue His kingdom and righteousness first...before I seek that perfect wall color.

Strength through Weakness

2017-05-05T10:13:00.000-07:00

I am not enough.

Selfishly, I want to be. I don't want to have to bow before Anyone and admit that I can't make it without help. A lump forms in my throat, and tears well in my eyes as I contemplate the fact that my work isn't enough.

I never really understood until recently how much of a perfectionist I am. There is nothing worse in my human estimation than looking back at a situation and realizing that there were a hundred things that could have been done differently.

We all may know intellectually that failure is good, because it helps us grow. But that doesn't help in the moments when we look that failure square in the face and listen to what we think it says about us.

Some of us deal with speaking failure over a scenario before it's even happened. Certain personality types lean towards negative predictions, and I confess that at times I fall into that category. If the plans that were laid out so neatly don't stay that way, then we think we are doomed to fail. This kind of thinking needs to go.

I keep thinking about the people that followed Jesus while He lived out His earthly ministry.

They dealt with weaknesses. (Luke 22) With failure to understand what Jesus was doing. (Mark 9,10) One of them even went so far as to deny that he knew the Christ when it came down to it. (Mark 14) There was bickering and misunderstanding. There were moments when things didn't go as well as that band of believers thought it should. (Mark 4).

It gives me hope, in my weaknesses. Reading their stories, and how they came through it gives me courage to keep going.

Ministry doesn't have to be perfect. It will be messy and unpredictable and wild.

A life of surrender won't be an easy one. There will be confusion and redirection...time after time.

However, through it all, there is one thing that remains...

The Word tells us - “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." II Cor 12:9 ESV

We do our best. We allow God to work through us, no matter how weak we feel. And we rest in His provision of strength. Sometimes we get to see the fruit. And, sometimes we don't. Faithfulness is what matters in each case.

Be encouraged that in the knowledge that the most unqualified and imperfect people have been and will continue to be used in the upside down Kingdom of God.

Father, it's yours. It's all yours. Every talent, every gift, every provision you've supplied to us. We give it back to You, so that glory may be given to You, and You alone. Thank you for allowing your imperfect people to partner with You. To You be the glory, forever.

In The Saving & The Calling

2017-02-17T14:34:00.003-08:00

image via Unsplash

"For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."

II Timothy 1:7

"...who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began,"

II Timothy 1:9 ESV

These two verses.

They embody everything that has been worked in and through me by the power of the Holy Spirit in the past four years.

While purpose has been of great importance to me for some time, it has been in the more recent past that God has been showing me how I can partner with Him in the purpose He has willed from the beginning.
His plan not only encompasses my beginning, when He knew me in my mother's womb, but from the moment He spoke and Creation became a reality. (Ephesians 1:4)

In His Sovereignty, He determined that I would be born with a vicious desire to change the world. He also gifted me with what I'm going to refer to as the "mothering instinct." From my earliest remembrance, I was taking care of others with a vengeance (some called me bossy, and they might not be wrong).

My surrendering to this gifting and stepping into my calling is becoming one of my favorite seasons of life.

What a beautiful realization that He gives us everything we need to fulfill His desires for us in this life and in the life to come. (II Peter 1:3)

First, He saves us.

Secondly, He calls us.

And in the saving and the calling, He asks not that we come in perfection or with performance, but armed with His purpose.

All He asks is that we join Him in the works that He is already performing for His glory. He works, we partner with Him. He gives power, we perform in that strength. He showers grace on our parched souls, and we allow the overflow to splash on those around us who need Him just as much as we do.

There are moments when fear creeps in. Days when we know our getting up is only possible through His powerful connection to the weakest parts of our humanity. I have lived this scenario more times than I care to admit. I used to hate it. I would cry out in anger, frustration and fear.

My struggle with anxiety is one of the best things to happen to me.

Yes, it's true. I never would have thought I could say that. But, I mean it with every fiber in my being. It's been painful. I have scars and wounds that won't soon be forgotten. But, I now know that He alone can do the saving. He alone can do the calling, and He alone can do the providing for every strength we need.

Recently I went to a training in Texas, where I was taught some important lessons in regards to ministry as a woman. I'm thankful for all I learned, but the thing I came away from there with was a braver sense of freedom than I have had in a long long time.

I am His. He is mine. And, there is nothing we can't do together.

God has not given me a spirit of fear. Instead, He has lifted me out of the pit I had been crouching in, and given me His Spirit, which results in power, love and a sound mind.

I have taken medication for several years now, but it couldn't fight the demons lurking in my surroundings. It couldn't numb the constant fear that pulsed in time with the beating of my heart. It couldn't set me free to live without continually looking over my shoulder for seemingly insignificant triggers which threatened my existence.

Anxiety robs you of your joy. Jesus Christ is the giver of joy. (John 15:11)

And it takes a surrender to the idea that His ways are higher than ours to break free of that "looking over your shoulder" kind of fear.

It takes a special kind of giving up to walk in the calling you previously had an aversion to because you thought it meant organizing "Mommy play dates." Women's Ministry was the thing I said "no way" to because my perspective of it was shallow and incomplete.

And now, it's completing my joy in such a beautiful way. I find myself smiling even when I'm alone thinking about the miracles God is working in and around me.

The most amazing part of this turn of events... I didn't do it. Sure, I worked on my part of things. I surrendered my will to God, and continue to pray that prayer daily. I walked into the counselor's office and laid my soul bare in order to root up the unhealthy thinking that had long been part of my mind. And, I gave up the part of me that cared what everyone thought about me, and looked to my grace-giving Father above.

Looking back at the past four years, it's apparent that the part I had to play wasn't as difficult as I had previously anticipated.

Purpose in my case looks like one small step at a time, and standing brave in the power of His might. It involves putting on that belt of truth every single day (Ephesians 6:14).

But, mostly a life of power, love and a sound mind comes from selflessly surrendering our every thing - every day of our lives.

***Do you struggle with surrendering your fear and anxiety to God? Send me a note and let me know how I can be praying with you about it.***

IF

2016-12-11T10:49:00.000-08:00

Our marriage has had quite a few "if's."

Some rather insignificant, and others that take my breath away with the enormity of what could have been.

If I had left after that first horrible fight...

You know the one where we said things no one wants to hear, and we were certain we had married insensitive people.

If I had walked away after that 50th ridiculous argument...

The one where I sat in the car for several maddening minutes trying to figure out an easy way to make divorce a reality.

If I had bought into the lie that perfect marriages exist, and Prince Charming is a real person, I might have picked up and left you, my dear. Because you are real, and normal, and human. And so am I.

And, I have given you plenty of opportunities to give up on me, haven't I?

I wish you couldn't remember the many times I've given you the silent treatment. Probably for some ridiculous reason like we just weren't on the same page, and I wanted to make sure you knew I hadn't flipped over to your page number.

Or the times I looked at you with fiery eyes, and whispered, "Don't you even think about bringing that into this conversation." But then, I broke the rules and brought up the hurtful topic you would rather not discuss.

We should have known that it would be difficult. I mean, we were (are) two completely different people, with decided opinions, and a dose of stubbornness on the side.

Somehow we were operating in the understanding that once my last name matched yours, and our address was the same, that those silly fights would just melt away.

They didn't, did they?

And, then add on the idea that you still wanted to be a Pastor, even though I prayed that God would change His mind and direct you to be a high earning businessman. Why didn't He listen to me?

I'm so glad He didn't.

I have learned so much from this crazy journey of ours.

From the years you stood by your agoraphobic wife while serving as a Youth Pastor at our first church, to the time we packed up our house and two kids and moved to a church for $200 a week. How have we made it through all the difficult changes?

I think it's because after every knock down, drag out fight (and there have been many), we looked at each other and said, " I'm not going anywhere." "I still choose you."

I know Pastors and their wives are never supposed to admit that they have moments when they don't like each other very much.

And Pastor's wives probably aren't supposed to spit out the words "And you call yourself a man of God!!" either.

Through almost fifteen years of practice, we are finally getting the hang of fighting fair. That and we are realizing some things just aren't that big of a deal.

I've learned so much by walking faithfully by your side. I've experienced a whole lot of grace from you and God as we've worked through the tough places.

Thanks for not giving up on me... on us... on marriage.

Thanks for making more than a small effort to repair broken places, and for understanding when that process was messy.

I think of all the "what if's" and a contented smile comes over my face. This journey has been the hardest thing I've ever done, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

If the grass is greener where you water it, then I plan to keep the soil well drenched. I know I won't execute the care of our marriage with perfection, but I want you to know I'm on your side.

After I've gone through all the "if's" in my mind, I'm more confident than ever that with you is exactly where I want to be.

"If you're tired of starting over, stop giving up."

Featuring: Made Well by Jenny Simmons and a GIVEAWAY!

2016-09-28T15:15:00.004-07:00

Made Well
"Finding Wholeness in the Everyday Sacred Moments"

Her story mirrors my own in some ways. A life defined by a tumultuous journey towards healing.

When I started reading the words she had so transparently crafted, I smiled, I cried, and I cheered for all those I knew would find healing because of Jenny's vulnerability.

I used to think that when people were healed, that they didn't ever deal with the "problem" again. The "it," whatever it was would most certainly go away.

More often than not, we are not instantly transformed. As I have learned in my own life, getting well sometimes happens over many bumpy years when despair creeps into the places you are trying so desperately to clean up.

Jenny Simmons writes, "...sometimes the broken things aren't fixed here and now. Sometimes the marriage ends, the babies die, the job is lost, the life savings are cleaned out, the disease grows, and the miracle you prayed for doesn't happen."

I agree.

In my case, the aggravating panic disorder was a constant reminder that I couldn't cut it. That I was broken, and clearly my inability to cope meant that I wasn't good enough to be made well.

I believed that I could be transformed in a second, so why wasn't that God's plan for me? Did He hold a grudge against me, I wondered silently?

Over the past 10 years, I have discovered a beautiful truth. That God loves me enough to use my weaknesses to make me stronger than I ever believed I could be.

This line from "Made Well," resonates with me so deeply: "...there is more to being made well than the curing of our bodies or fixing of our situations. There is wholeness to be found on the roads we never prayed for."

Of course we don't pray to have days where we feel like we can't get out of bed! But, the determination we tap into, and the reliance on God inspires us to rise up, wash our face, and trudge through the day, laying a foundation for the work of healing to begin construction.

I never would have dreamed of all the things I've learned through my struggle with anxiety. It has been a great teacher. I may not have wanted to be taught this way, but God knew that it's what I needed to become the version of myself that He could use most effectively.

Like Jenny, I too have had those days where I was mad. Just plain mad that I had to go through this process. She writes, "...afraid, lonely and angry that I even had to work for health when no one else around me seemed to be tasked with that..."

I remember days when I looked at all the people around me and felt alone. I lived a life plagued by fear, and yet I was determined to be a world changer. I didn't know how to start, but I didn't know how to quit. I had to get well.

And, I am being made well, it just may not be in the way I wanted. Or like Jenny said, "It wasn't the miracle I prayed for, but it was a miracle all the same. Emmanuel showing up in the hardest moments, holding my hand."

God brought this book into my life for some rough moments when He and I were upending the deepest roots of my fear. That in itself is proof that my Creator loves me, He delights in me, and He is giving me grace to walk this path to wholeness.

Thank you Jenny Simmons for sharing so bravely about finding wholeness in moments that we might otherwise pass by without a pause. These unexpected parts of our journey are what give us hope to keep pressing into the One who restores...the One who makes us well.

--- I'm giving away a copy of Jenny's book to one of my readers!---

----- Like my post on Facebook and leave a comment on the link or on the blog to be entered. -----

------- For more information about Made Well, by Jenny Simmons, go to www.madewellbook.com -------

The truth remains.

2016-09-22T14:06:00.002-07:00

Do you ever wonder when truth will become important again?

We live in a world where lies are excused, and those who embrace moral codes are mocked.

Perhaps you, like me, are concerned for what this aversion to the truth looks like as we continue on in this century.

We see things through political eyes these days, partly because we are nearing the “changing of the guard” so to speak in Washington D.C.

But, truthfully, we should be viewing this recent turn of events with glasses that reveal to us the source of true vision, rather than the cloudy spectacles of popular viewpoints that further political agendas.

Veracity (truth) is imperative.

Living a life free from deceit is beneficial.

Operating from a position of integrity brings freedom, rather than bondage.

Consider this.

We recently watched two different occasions in which a Presidential Candidate was caught lying (caught almost in the act).

Instead of walking it back, apologizing for their departure from the truth, they doubled down on their lies...in fact adding to the already preposterous detail of events.

Why?

And, more importantly, why did it seem that a majority of the population didn’t care?

I don’t know when I’ve seen so much apathy, and it is concerning!

Now to be sure, deception exists in every political party. In fact, it exists everywhere we look. But the part I can’t wrap my mind around is that we don’t seem to be phased by it.

Have we become lovers of evil, rather than pursuers of good?

Put everything you assume to be “your truth” aside for a moment. Forget how you were raised, or how you conduct yourself currently.

When a person habitually tells other people things that are proven to be categorically false, are they a liar?

When a person habitually tells other people things that are proven to be categorically false, are found out, and pretend it didn’t happen, what would you label them as? A pathological liar?

Would you want your life to be governed and protected by a habitual liar?

This is important.

There are people’s lives at stake.

This isn’t a little boy or girl lying about whether or not they stole a piece of gum (although that has serious implications as well).

Perhaps this is a case where this person started out with small deceptions, was allowed to get away with them, and has weaved a web of deceit unlike anything we could have imagined.

For the sake of future generations, and for that of our souls, perhaps we should have a very important conversation with those we love, particularly our children.

Lies and deception are evil.

We cannot allow our consciences to be numbed to an alternative belief.

Truth is not relative.

Are there grey matters that come up every once in awhile? Of course. I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t recognize that.

I’m not calling for a return to absolute black and white in places where I have no experience. I realize that world leaders face things I couldn’t possibly imagine.

However, I believe that integrity and faithfulness to the truth should still be placed in a position of first importance… no matter if your name is Mr. Jones, or Mr. President.

Galatians 6:7 says this: “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatever a man sows, that shall he also reap.” (Holy Bible AKJV)

I believe that.

That truth doesn’t change.

People who habitually lie, and revel in an existence of deception will be found out...and will reap what they sow.

And even when half the population doesn’t seem to care that a prominent figure is lying and continuing on with some level of popularity, so be it.

The truth remains.

No one, not even the President of the United States - the Leader of the free world, can escape the consequences of deception.

May we teach this generation that integrity and faithfulness matter.

Let’s examine our own hearts, and put aside any tendency to lie when it’s convenient.

While certain people may seem to be above the law, let me assure you, there is a law that no one is above.

And, the truth will set us free.

Don't be afraid to seek knowledge, wisdom, and truth.

We need a generation who will defend faithfulness to their dying breath.

I for one, am not done standing up for what I know to be true. And, I will call out deception and refuse to accept that it's okay because "everyone is doing it."

It's not okay.

It's deplorable.

And we better start calling what it is.

We can not expect to enjoy a functioning and thriving community when it's members are willing to not only excuse the behavior of liars, but follow them blindly to their own demise.

Stand up and fight.

Fight with the truth.

All we can do is rest

2016-07-30T10:50:00.001-07:00

There is nothing I can do to earn my salvation. I can not appease God. I can not make Him like/love me more by acting a certain way. . . by behaving in a fashion that resembles godliness.

I can, however, rest in His unfailing love, and praise Him because of His goodness, not to earn His goodness.

When He delights in me, it's because of His goodness, not my own. When He forgives me, it's because of His mercy, not my perfection.

He is gracious because He is grace.

He is loving because He is love.

He is faithful because it is impossible for Him to change. His word says, "if we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself." (II. Timothy 2:13)

So what else can we do, but praise this grace-filled, loving, faithful Father? We praise Him not for what He can do for us, but rather for what He can and is doing within us.

He takes those undeserving of grace, and kindly brings them to a place of wholeness.

He guides those with imperfect love to a beautiful dwelling where His love is felt and in turn, expressed.

And He shows a faithless generation what His never-ending faith, hope, and love can to do rescue their souls from sinking into despair.

We are not good to show Him how lucky He is to have us. We are good because He has us.

When He is LORD of our lives, we are launched into a lifetime of transformation. Not to be good enough, but to be made aware that we are not God. We can not be better at what He is the best at.

Grace.

Love.

Faith.

All we can do is rest.

Rest in what He is doing for us, in us, and through us.

Angry. Perplexed. Frustrated.

2016-07-14T11:26:00.002-07:00

I'm angry. I'm perplexed. I'm frustrated.

I have anxiety and depression, and I want it to go away.

I thought that if I was a good Christian girl...if I did everything right...If I controlled all of my surroundings, that I wouldn't be dealing with problems like this.

I sat in my Counselor's office this week and got mad. It occurred to me that I had no choice in this matter. I'm here because something didn't work right in my brain.

If it was something external, then I could change it by changing those external circumstances.

But, I didn't choose this.

One day I woke up like all the days before, got dressed, ate breakfast, buckled my baby in her car seat, and headed toward a panic attack I didn't see coming.

It came with no warning. It hit me with a force unlike anything I had every felt. It didn't ask my permission.

As my life spiraled out of control, I found myself grasping to hold onto anything that would make it okay. I came up with excuses for my problems. I bargained with myself. I bargained with God. Surely this would pass, much like indigestion after too much pizza.

And yet, it stayed. It came in and made itself comfortable in my home, my head, and most distressingly, my heart.

I asked it to leave so many times. I begged God to remove it from my life. I tried to use every ounce of strength I had to remove it on my own.

And the panic just wouldn't leave.

It told me I wasn't good enough. That I needed to worry about everything.

It lied to me and said I couldn't handle things on my own... that I needed my husband to make everything work correctly.

It left me speechless, breathless, and hopeless.

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Truthfully...I want to be her again.

I want to be the twenty-one year old, un-medicated, change-the-world girl who had all the optimism in the universe at her disposal.

And yet, I also want to be her.

The thirty-three year old woman who has a softer, more understanding side. The one who lives her life for others more than herself because she knows how empty the latter is. The one who has been brave and strong in the moments when it counted. The one who didn't give up, even when every neuron in her brain was screaming at her to run away and hide.

And, I'm angry...a little at myself, and a lot at God. I'm angry that I can't seem to be both. I'm frustrated that I live in a medicated state, and yet still have issues that seemingly preclude me from changing the world.

I want freedom.

I want to look at the sky and know that it holds no limit.

I want to breathe in life-giving air, while simultaneously exhaling grace to those around me.

And I want to live with purpose and intention...with no thought to what might happen if I wander too far out of my comfort zone.

Surrender can't come as long as I am clinching my fists in anger and frustration.

This problem angers me because I can't "make" this go away. I can't yell at it long enough and make it walk out of the room. My stomach churns at the realization that I am utterly and completely out of control.

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Jesus, be near to me.
Walk with me, as you already have shown yourself able to do.
Lead me into the path that YOU have for me, not the path I'm trying to forge on my own.
Give me peace that passes even my understanding. Rescue me from my worry. Deliver me from my fear. Protect me from my pursuit of perfectionism.
You've got me.
I know that in my head.
Please whisper this truth to my heart.

When the day gets you down

2016-04-06T13:30:00.002-07:00

Image via

Sometimes it’s hard to get dressed up for motherhood.

I remember the seasons when I awoke each day, took the time to arrange my hair and clothes in a professional manner, and walked out the door prepared to meet whatever life brought. If the day didn’t go well, at least I had accomplished one thing...I was dressed.

Then I had a couple children, then a couple more. Suddenly my propensity towards morning cheerfulness drifted somewhere towards the neighborhood of grouchy and overtired.

It isn’t that I don’t have good intentions. On the contrary, I have good intentions every day. It’s just that sometimes those lofty goals don’t materialize as tangible results. Consider the following scenario.

It’s 7:30 am. You’ve been laying there for a few minutes, willing everyone to give you a few moments of quiet. You know that as soon as you rise from the warm embrace of your covers, that you will be greeted by the cold reality of life itself. The reality that means packing lunches, finding matching socks, and picking the baby out of the crib, only to discover that the diaper has failed yet again, and two loads of laundry have been added to your seemingly insurmountable pile of dirty clothing.

It is now 7:45 am. You have given the baby their bottle, stripped the sheets from their crib, walked them into the laundry room, where you discover you forgot to change the clothes from the washer to the dryer yesterday. So, you restart the load in the washer so your family doesn’t smell like a damp basement, and leave the sheets in a heap on the floor.

Someone is yelling your name because they can’t find the butter that is necessary for toast. So, you come down to save the day, and in the meantime trip over baby’s trash can you forgot to put away after you emptied it this morning.

Suddenly it’s time for face washing, teeth brushing, and hair combing. You supervise as well as possible while the three year old is holding on to your pajama pants, begging you to hold her. Your oldest yells, “The BABY is playing in the toilet again,” just as you finish inspecting the last molar on child number three.

You walk into the other bathroom to discover they have not only messed in the toilet, but have unrolled the entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet, and you have the unmatched privilege of scooping it out. You clean the baby’s hands, and their mouth...just in case. You spray and wipe down the entire toilet, because...well, you might as well. Then, you say, “Where was I?”

Your husband is yelling for a towel, and your toddler is asking for a drink. “Just a minute,” you say...willing yourself to take a breath.

It’s 8:15, and everyone is ready to walk out the door. You give yourself an imaginary pat on the back for a job well done.

If you work part time from home, as I do, you might plop your remaining children in front of some socialist propaganda piece cleverly disguised as a cartoon, and attempt to get a few minutes of work done (I would never [ahem] do that...but it could be done).

The rational person might be asking you, “Why didn’t you just wake up an hour earlier, and prepare everything accordingly so that everything would just flow in perfect harmony?” Oh, but those of us who are comrades in the trench with you, know exactly why you didn’t wake up earlier.

You tried to go to bed at a decent hour, in order to get the recommended hours of sleep, but then you and your husband needed to chat about the budget, and that was impossible to do 3 hours before because the kids needed help with homework, and you were trying to clean up dinner. Oh, and you were afraid it might turn into a disagreement, so you wisely decided to “wait until later.” Well, that later had come, and you were deciding on priorities late into the night (either that, or you might have watched your favorite show to you know...chill).

Then, around 1:00 am the next morning, one of your more worrisome children walks into your room, scares you right out of a sound sleep and swears she heard something creaking outside. You assure her that everything is alright, roll over, shove your husband and ask him to check on the noise. He grunts something unintelligible, and stumbles out of bed. You aren’t sure if he’s awake or sleep walking, but somehow he persuades her that it’s safe to resume her REM cycles, and you both fall back into blissful sleep.

Blissful, that is, until another child is forcing you out of your restorative “eyes-closed activity,” with the news that they have accidentally wet the bed. Upstairs you go, stumbling around in the dark to find a new pair of pajamas, and to figure out a sleeping arrangement for your soaked offspring.

After a night with interruptions like that, you can barely drag yourself out of bed, let alone face a twelve hour day of inquiring minds that operate on a “need right now” basis.

Of course not every morning (or night) transpires like the one described above. However, most mothers and fathers know that their best laid plans require more than careful planning. It is impossible to predict what will hit you in the face as you begin each twenty-four hour time frame, known as a day.

There are days I’m tempted to lose it. Nights that I’m on the verge of surrendering every ounce of sanity I had mustered up from the last catastrophe. And, some of us do lose it… As a member of the “I’ve lost my mind” club, I can tell you that life lived in a facade of perfectionism isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

I could tell you all the ways you need to organize your schedule so that you don’t have unexpected emergencies like I do. I could reveal a buttoned-up plan of chore charts and activity agendas that would make your head spin. But, sometimes in the space between the list making and the life living, things spin out of control.

Did you sign up for a certain type of life, and find out there is a “no-return” policy? You didn’t ask for the child with the serious bed-wetting problem, the spouse who left you, or the member of your family who has received an unwanted diagnosis that leaves you worn each day. And, yet, here you are… Giving every last drop of effort to make the life you’re living worth getting up for.

I don’t have to tell you that sometimes it’s going to be hard to get up and face the day, but let me tell you any way... There are going to be some hard days! In all our efforts to be the men and women we were created to be, there is a common thread. - It’s called discomfort. Moments of adversity that lead to a level of fatigue we hadn’t thought possible.

Have you ever been speaking to someone about your problems, and in their encouragement to you, they happened to mention that what you are going through is nothing compared to what they are dealing with? Yes, we’ve all been there. And, as we stammer around to come up with a response, all we really want to say is, “You may be more experienced in the art of suffering than I am, but can we focus on my sob story for a minute?”

The truth is, no one has your experiences...your life...your grief. And, yet, on some level we all know the familiar pang of heartbreak. We know the disappointment that even a relatively normal day can bring. And, while we don’t want to focus on the negative parts of our existence, the tendency to live there is strong.

I could tell you to “count it all joy,” and you should. I could tell myself to “get a grip,” and I should.
But, before we give ourselves or others that advice, we would do well to take a deep breath, and make a conscious choice to neglect the sweating of small stuff.

In the off chance you end up doing 10 loads of laundry every day for the rest of your life, and live a majority of the day in sweatpants, know that there’s another woman out there who will cry with you over your cup of tea. Then, after we are done, we’ll get up, throw another load in the washer, read about people starving in Africa, and ponder our privilege. We will resolve to live a purposeful life, and give ourselves a break when our best laid plans unravel before our eyes.

And whatever happens...we’ll for sure stop pretending like we’re perfect.

Because we just aren’t.

And that’s okay.

(p.s. Sweatpants help sometimes)

And we know that for those who love God all things work

together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28

A strange kind of adventure

2015-11-04T10:32:00.000-08:00

This image greeted me this morning as I scrolled through Instagram.

My initial thought was "I like that idea. I would like to be more adventurous, and say 'yes' more."

Then I smiled.

I was reminded of the past year, and the adventures I have welcomed with open arms.

It was this time last year, that my husband, Brian and I were discussing the possibility of adoption.

But, before I tell that part of the story, I have to set it up.

In 2013, I approached Brian about the possibility of starting the adoption process. This was not a new discussion. It's one we had dreamed about for many years. We had no idea of the timing, but we knew the plight of the orphan was on our hearts.

At that time, we had 4 kids under 7, and Brian wisely said, "I can't think about it right now...I just don't think the time is right."

I chose to honor that request. I prayed for God's timing, and let it go.

For about a year, Brian and I didn't breathe a word about our desires to help children in need.

Then, the day came, when my sweet husband came home from the office, armed with a determined look, and a letter from the Department of Health and Welfare, and said, "I'm ready to move forward."

With shock, I stuttered and stammered around... When you truly let something go, it's a surprise to see it come back to you!

At that time we had no idea how we would begin the process. We just started searching for the path we knew God was leading us down.

Without getting into all the specifics (I could write a short book about God's answers to prayer), we determined that we would forego the adoption plan for awhile, and focus on fostering local children in need.

We jumped in wholeheartedly...taking the 27 hours of PRIDE training, and opening our home to inspection and what feels like intrusion. (It's not easy having some of those questions asked!)

And, here we are.

One respite case, and two placements later.

You want to talk about adventures?

I've had them this year.

In fact, I fell in love early this fall.

I fell hard for a blue-eyed, four year old who joined our family for about a month.

He gave great hugs, and talked in grown-up sentences.

His laugh was contagious, and his smile melted our hearts.

We thought we would break down the first time we heard him pray these words, "Please let us be a family forever."

After the first couple of days, we didn't know how we would tell him good-bye.

And yet, we had to.

Tears formed in my eyes, and a lump grew in my throat when I received the call from his case worker. He was leaving our family to return to his.

I may never see him again.

I held him for a long time before his worker arrived.

I didn't want him to see the tears in my eyes.

I told him he was welcome to visit us anytime, and that we would love him forever.

"You'll love me forever, right?" he asked repeatedly.

"Yes, " I assured him. "Forever and ever."

As I buckled him in his car seat, I struggled to keep it together.

I held his hands in mine.

Placing a kiss on each of his palms, I promised him that those kind of kisses don't wipe off, and whenever he needs one, he can place his hand on his cheek.

His eyes mirrored the sadness I knew was in mine.

We were saying good-bye, and it was heartbreaking.

How does even a temporary "Momma" say good-bye?

There is no way I can explain the way he so quickly became part of us.

Maybe that's not the way foster care is supposed to work, but I don't think we could have done it any other way.

How can you give them the attachment they so desperately need, without your heart breaking when the time comes to part ways?

I don't know.

We obviously haven't figured that out.

We continue to care for our other "adventure."

A 15-month old bundle of energy adds life and growth opportunities to our home every day.

We deal with multiple visits a week, tantrums due to frustration, interrupted nights, and emotional ups and downs.

And yet, I know how hard it's going to be to say farewell.

I am working so hard to promote attachment, because it's so good for him.

He needs to attach to people. He needs to know how to form these important bonds.

And yet, I know that the same amount of love and compassion that goes into forming this attachment will need to be ready for our family when we break this attachment.

The wound will be there again, barely healed over from the last good-bye.

And, we will let another piece of our heart go out the door, and into the unknown.

This is a strange kind of adventure.

I'll admit I've wondered if I'm up to the task.

We've admittedly wished that our simple life would return to us.

And yet, when my foster baby reaches over and pats my arm with a smile and a loving twinkle in his eyes, I am reminded of a simple truth.

Love is the greatest adventure.

Loving well, when you know you are guaranteed to feel tremendous pain, has got to be the scariest adventure.

We don't know what the future holds.

We don't know how we will endure the pain that comes with hard good-byes.

But, this I do know.

We love, because Christ Jesus first loved us.

If He could live a life for us... If He could give that life for us, then I will give my life.

I will...

Open my home for the ones who need help.

Give my hands to the ones who need healing.

Give my life for the ones who need love.

And, sometimes that will mean giving my life for the children I brought into this world.

They need a Mom who is devoted to them as much as she is devoted to other adventures.

As I balance this delicate give-and-take of mothering two types of children, I am looking to my Father for guidance.

I pray the Lord's prayer often, and the line that cuts me to the core every time is this:

"Your Kingdom come. Your will be done. On earth as it is in Heaven."

His will may not always come with feelings of comfort and calm.

I do believe, this however...

His plan is an adventure I don't want to miss.

This Spoken Word of God

2015-09-14T10:12:00.000-07:00

My early life could be characterized as sheltered.

I was raised in a conservative environment, with good music, limited TV watching, and only the best books to read.

I wasn’t allowed to be part of “the world,” as it was referred to, but that was okay with me. I’ve never been a rebel in the typical sense of the word.

Sure, I was (and still am) stubborn, and opinionated, but I limited that stubborn streak to the company of my parents and immediate family. I never dreamed of breaking rules, and was not the type to get into a lot of trouble.

What did get me into trouble was my mouth.

I had definitive opinions about any given subject, and I wasn’t afraid to speak up about them. I would forcefully state my outlook on a given situation, even if it was to my parents’ frustration.

My disrespectful vivaciousness was something I frequently repented of. I remember begging God to make me meek and mild, so that I could go through a day without disappointing someone with my outspoken performances.

I learned to call on Jesus a lot.

I poured through His Word, and spoke to Him frequently, trying to gain some wisdom for how to be a good kid.

I’m not sure if I figured out how to be good, but along the way I have discovered something great.

God has much to say about the situations we find ourselves in, and so often we ignore the beautiful gift we have been given.

We have the spoken Word of God at our fingerprints.

The vast amounts of “human wisdom” we find ourselves inundated with is no substitute for the character of Christ we find revealed through the spoken Word of God.

It contains insights into every possible scenario we might find ourselves a part of.

We must dive into the sacred texts. We have to cultivate a demand for the divine. We have the Word of God in our reach, and yet we neglect it's nearness.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. I John 1:1

Matthew Henry writes, “The plainest reason why the Son of God is called the Word, seems to be, that as our words explain our minds to others, so was the Son of God sent in order to reveal his Father's mind to the world.”

This idea resonates with me.

From the time I was a young girl, I would write my words down when I really wanted to make sure I was getting the point across.

When I spoke my thoughts through the written word, I was able to concentrate. - To convey my deepest thoughts with clarity.

God’s Word is the ultimate truth-teller. It is a peek into the divine mind of The Creator.

From the moment He first spoke (Let there be light) until the ascension of Christ into the Heavens, God created a masterful story of unparalleled beauty. And the story isn’t finished yet.

Creation.

The fellowship of Man and Woman with God.

Selfish choices with devastating consequences.

Redemptive sacrifices.

Rules for mankind, which were given to protect, but were scorned by hard-hearted men.

A Savior sent to redeem a world who was determined to choose its own way.

A people who longed for harmony, and found it in the most unlikely of places...In the Prince of Peace, who looked more like a carpenter’s son.

A manuscript, written on multiple scrolls, with eternal purpose. – The Words of God. The mind of God. The plan of God.

It was written to impart wisdom.

It was given for our good.

And it is alive for our awakening.

The same God who gave us access to His mind allows us to make up our own mind.

We have a choice.

We don’t have to open the pages and hear from Him.

He invites us in, but allows us to ignore Him.

He sent His Son to give us a piece of His mind.

As we read through His Words, let us allow Him to bring peace to our minds.

“Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus:”
Philippians 2:5 (KJV)

While I may desire to be a truth-teller, there is only one source of truth that will stand the test of time.

The Word of God is living.

The Word of God is active.

And sometimes the Word of God hurts.

It pierces into the places of despair and pain. It creates a tension we wish we could ignore. And, it unveils a plan so beautiful we can't ignore the breathtaking splendor.

We have a choice to walk away from the perfect plan of God. That's the amazing thing about grace. - It's freely offered to us, but never forced upon us.

When I think about the fact that God knew me before I was born (Jeremiah 1:5), He has a plan that will lead to fulfillment as I choose to walk in it (Proverbs 4:26), and He offers to help me in my weaknesses (Romans 8:26), I am overwhelmed. I am intrigued. I am inspired.

He offers His Word - His "mind."

We make the choice if we want to hear from Him or not.

I choose to read.

I choose to listen.

I choose to be transformed.

The Happiness Equation

2015-08-31T08:38:00.000-07:00

(Originally published on The Today Parenting Team for their "Get Happy" Challenge).

If you have lived even a short period of time, you know there are plenty of excuses to choose unhappiness over real or imagined joy.

We are humans...imperfect, flawed, and prone to taking paths that will eventually set a course for distress, or even just a slight twinge of melancholy.

Why is that?

We know the things we should be doing, and yet we continually push past our good sense, and rush down the slide of life...determined to make it fun, yet destined to crash and burn at the end.

In some ways, I speak metaphorically, but I do believe that this is too often the case.

I know it, because I've lived it.

I know what I should do.

I am aware of the equation that equals happiness (or joy).

And yet, all too often, I invite misery to walk beside me as my closest companion, even if it is for a brief stroll.

So, how can we be assured of a happy day...month...year?

Well, first of all...we can't.

I don't want to be a downer here. After all, we are trying to explore ways to "Get Happy!"

However, there is no guarantee of our happiness.

We are exceptionally driven to expect the worst, and even pursue it.

Now, I am aware that there are many of us who find ourselves in circumstances we didn't choose. A loved one died, a job was lost, or we were betrayed by a friend.

In those times, we must go through a process of grieving, and we certainly won't feel like smiling through the tears.

What I am speaking to are the times when we are aware that our daily choices are affecting our yearly outcomes. We are tired...we are cranky...and we are barely making it.

Here is what we know:

We know we shouldn't stay up into the late hours of the night catching up on our shows, but we do it anyway, and experience the headache and heartless mood that we are almost guaranteed to wake up with.

We are aware of what happens when we schedule something every single day of the week, and yet we are determined to fill every single white space in that calendar, because someone or something needs us!

We know that there are not always enough hours in the day to ensure that our family is well-educated, well-exercised, well-fed, and well-satisfied with the amount of extra curricular activities we think are helpful, and yet we sign ourselves up for everything possible.

Let me let you in on a little secret. It's one that I keep whispering to myself too.

Our children (or us) do not have to participate in every single thing we think might bring them joy and eternal satisfaction. They simply cannot do it all. And frankly, neither can we.

We are driving them and ourselves to mental and physical exhaustion, and there is high price tag on that decision.

If we are always chasing something that is impossible to grasp, we will live in a state of exasperation, not enjoyment.

Consider this: If you are always running - never resting. If you are always reaching - never holding, and if you are always climbing and never taking in the view, what will you have at the end of your life?

I love this quote from Rick Warren:

“Time is your most precious gift because you only have a set amount of it. You can make more money, but you can't make more time. When you give someone your time, you are giving them a portion of your life that you'll never get back. Your time is your life. That is why the greatest gift you can give someone is your time.
It is not enough to just say relationships are important; we must prove it by investing time in them. Words alone are worthless. "My children, our love should not be just words and talk; it must be true love, which shows itself in action." Relationships take time and effort, and the best way to spell love is "T-I-M-E.”

I mean, let's be honest. Our families will typically operate in a smoother manner when we are spending quality time together in the sacred space called home. There is no substitute for the special moments spent around a dinner table, or working on homework together in an unhurried manner.

It's not easy, but I do believe that when we say no to the extras, and yes to the essentials, we embrace more purposeful lifestyle choices.

You and your children can indeed find your "happy place." But, it may mean saying no to a few things. It may mean clearing space on that calendar so that there are more than 2 blank boxes in the month.

The happiness equation is as simple as this...

Once we put down our unrealistic expectations, and live in a purposeful manner, we will find a more content way of life.

One that says, "I don't need to do everything I thought I did."

One that exudes peace, calm, and grace, even in the middle of a crazy "household storm."

One that inspires togetherness, not fragmented craziness.

Let's do this.

Let's get happy.

*images from Unsplash

Waiting

2015-08-25T18:45:00.003-07:00

It's been one of those days.

When your world feels all topsy turvy, and you don't know if it will ever be normal again.

Don't get me wrong. - My life is A-mazing. I am incredibly blessed, and have nothing to complain about.

The tension I am feeling lately is due to the nagging suspicion that God is up to something in my life. I'm always a bit nervous when I get that feeling.

Let me explain...

I knew 13 years ago that we would most likely adopt some day. My husband and I were newlyweds, and we attended a Steven Curtis Chapman Concert. At one point during the show, an adoption video was shown. I assure you that even though the music swelled at just the right moment, and pictures of darling children pulled on my heart strings, it wasn't just an emotional experience. I knew without a doubt that we were being called to adopt.

I've had more moments like that over the past 13 years. Moments where time stands still. My heart bursts from the feeling inside. Tears come easily. My Mom instinct is in high gear. Every fiber of my being is awake, and I. just. know.

I can't explain it. I am painfully aware that there is a child or children out there who has been born in my heart, and has yet to come and live with us.

I say painfully because I know there is a high cost to adoption.

I don't mean the financial cost, though there is a price tag on bringing someone home.

I mean a cost. - A gut-wrenching, life-altering, pain-filled cost.

There are fears to be felt.

There are tears to be shed.

But there is love to be shared...

We are that family.

The ideal family, with 3 girls and a boy. We may not have a picket fence, or a dog, but we have enough food in our pantry, and beautiful clothes on our backs. We live in a house that is too big for our needs, and have enough money to buy $4 coffee every so often. We are beyond wealthy.

I don't know why we want to mess that equation up.

Why would we want to sacrifice any part of that to help even one life?

I'm not entirely sure.

All I know is that I have been compelled...compelled by a Father who adopted me.

I was worth an enormous sacrifice on His part (Romans 8:32).

My heart is aching a little today. I'm feeling the pains that come from uncertainty. I'm carrying the weight of a calling that has yet to be realized. And my mind is racing with the questions that are unanswered.

The waiting is hard. The temptation to question the calling is overwhelming. And the fear of failure is palpable.

The way forward isn't clear, but the future is bright.

I'm clinging to hope. - The hope that the One who called will be faithful to complete it. (Philippians 1:6)

What is the Pentateuch really about?

2015-08-15T12:26:00.000-07:00

I found these summaries of what the first five books of the Bible are about very helpful. Visit Insights for Living for more information. (You can click on the image and save it for quick reference).

Pro-Life Hospitality

2015-08-03T11:22:00.000-07:00

I've always considered hospitality to be something that revolves around food.

You have a group of people over, entertaining them with delightful conversation and good things to eat.

And, if you are really blessed with the gift of hospitality, you don't mind having people over without notice, while your house is less than perfect.

Yes, in my mind, that was hospitality.

I had recently been studying what it means to be "hospitable" in the context of Scripture.

So, when I read a status that Anthony Bradley wrote, I had to look over my study notes again.

Ponder this...

After some discussions this weekend, it occurred to me that the pro-life movement will fail as long those who want abortion to end do it from a distance without suffering themselves for the cause. Abortion will decline when the demand declines. The demand will decline when hospitality is used as the greatest pro-life weapon of the 21st-century.
Hospitality as a weapon, like Christians of the earlier church who waged war against infanticide, means that Christians will open up their homes and bank accounts to fully support women who are making a decision whether or not to keep their children. [Until] Christians open up their homes and move pregnant single-moms and other women into their homes and suffer with those making tough decisions, there may not be much change.
Every pregnant women should have a home waiting on her. And I don't mean group homes for women. I mean pregnant women moving into the residential houses and apartments of those who have space. (Anthony Bradley)

Could it be possible that as Christ followers we have neglected to understand the true meaning of hospitality?

Consider this passage, found in I Peter 4:1-12

Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because whoever suffers in the body is done with sin. As a result, they do not live the rest of their earthly lives for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God. For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do—living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing and detestable idolatry. They are surprised that you do not join them in their reckless, wild living, and they heap abuse on you. But they will have to give account to him who is ready to judge the living and the dead. For this is the reason the gospel was preached even to those who are now dead, so that they might be judged according to human standards in regard to the body, but live according to God in regard to the spirit.
The end of all things is near. Therefore be alert and of sober mind so that you may pray. Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.

One of the first things I notice, is that Peter asks us to "offer hospitality to one another without grumbling," and he doesn't specify that only those with the gift of hospitality should do it. He goes on to say that each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms. So, the takeaway is that we are to be hospitable, using whatever gifts we have been given.

This command gets more interesting when you uncover the deeper meaning of that word "hospitality." The Greek word used there is philoxenos, and is a combination of philos and xenos.

Prayerfully consider the meaning of those words:

philos: "loving, fond of, tending to."

xenos: "stranger."

You see, I thought hospitality referred to the fact that I could clean my house, make delicious food, light candles, and invite my friends over "like. a. boss."

That's not what it means.

Hospitality, in this context, refers to the loving act of tending to a stranger. A fondness for strangers.

An opening of one's home.

An opening of one's heart.

For the healing of a stranger.

I am completely aware of the tension that exists in having this discussion...

So many of us were raised with the idea that mistakes/sin = consequences.

And, maybe some of you even go so far as to say "They made their bed...so they can lie in it."

Interestingly enough, I don't find that to be the attitude of Christ.

Matthew 5:42 - "Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you."

Matthew 25:35-40 - "For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ "

Luke 3:10-11 - "And the crowds asked him, “What then shall we do?” And he answered them, “Whoever has two tunics is to share with him who has none, and whoever has food is to do likewise.”

Luke 12:33-34 - "Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."

And the ultimate passage that describes Christ's "hospitality..."

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Philippians 2:5-8

Now, I am aware that there are many verses that talk about stewarding your money and providing for your family. So, I am not advocating abandoning the needs of your family to the betterment of strangers.

But, I do believe that all of our stewarding should result in having extra to help those in need.

Except for the grace of God, there we could be.

How many of us have made mistakes in our lives?

How many of us have had to accept mercy and help from a kind person at one time or another?

Does that make us any less worthy?

Of course not.

Humans will fail. There are plenty of examples in history of people who needed the help of those around them to get back on their feet.

And, as followers of Christ, we know the power of the Gospel. It is life changing. It brings life from death and destruction. It makes people new through the power of Christ's death and resurrection.

How can we translate the undeserved grace we have received into giving grace to others who don't deserve it?

I think there are a few ways.

1. Pray for strangers. Not just a one liner, "help those in need." But, pray that God will open your eyes to those around you that He could be calling you to help.

2. Plan for strangers. Look over your budget. Think about ways that you can cut costs and free up money to assist those who are already engaged in ministries to people in need. There are so many amazing organizations who are on the front lines, so to speak. This will also mean refusing to be consumed by credit cards, and actually living within our means.

3. Purpose to help strangers. It's not enough to pray and plan. We must have a passion that drives us. We must go to places where they live. Engage in meaningful conversations. Open our hearts and listen to what their needs are.

4. Proceed to your mission of hospitality (fondness of strangers). God will give you a calling when you ask for it. He's already doing something amazing in this world, and He is inviting us to join Him. You may never know in this life, the impact your hospitality may have on the world. Do it anyway.

Does this mean that all of us will be opening our homes to unwed mothers, and high-risk pregnant teens? Probably not.

What it means for me at this very moment is a wake up call to be focused on what I can tangibly do to be "pro-life." I want to encourage life-giving, life-changing methods to help those who need a hand-up.

It won't be convenient.

It won't be comfortable.

It will be a calling.

A call to lay down our lives, and the version we thought we wanted, for the life-changing, soul-gripping work of Jesus Christ.

Hiding when it hurts

2015-07-31T16:00:00.003-07:00

Originally published on Smart Girl Politics

I've done a lot of hiding in my life.

The first time I remember needing to hide for a good reason was when I was a young girl, living with my missionary family in Ghana, West Africa.

We had gone to bed, like any normal night, with the expectation that morning would arrive without incident. That was not to be the case.

I remember waking up slowly, my eyes adjusting to a dim light, and the forms of men in the hallway. I slowly raised my head. Why I did not scream is a mystery to me. Strange men holding guns was not a normal sight in our home.

I saw them enter the room across the hall from mine. My Mom was in there, lying on my brother's bed with him...begging God to spare our lives.

After what seemed like a very long time, they exited my brother's room, and silence took over our house. We rose carefully, and my Mom began to wake my 3 siblings. We walked quickly, yet timidly into the living room. Our watchman lay on the floor with his face to the ground. He whispered for us to get down.

We learned they had taken my Dad hostage, and that it was time for us to run. And we did.
I can still remember with vivid detail the way the rough ground felt on my bare feet. We didn't have time for shoes.

We ran in the bush for what seemed like forever...my heart beating wildly. Childish prayers filled my mind. I worried for my Dad's life. I worried for our lives. I worried.

That was one of the first times I remember intense worry, fear, and anxiety filling my consciousness.
Even after we were told it was safe to come back to our property, and we were escorted to our friend's home, I felt an unshakable feeling of dread.

Even after my Dad was returned, unharmed, I felt the weight of worry settle over me.
And, even after we prayed and thanked God for His protection, I experienced the anxiousness that comes with a tainted sense of safety.

It's as if it was yesterday, in my mind.

I am sitting on my friend's bed. I am shaking, and even though we live incredibly close to the equator, I am cold. I look out the window into the darkness of the night. I feel eyes watching me. Eyes that aren't truly there, but feel as real to me as my own. I am sick with worry. And, I want to hide.

We've been in more homes than I can keep track of. As we travel from state to state informing new friends of the college we are teaching at in Africa, I am learning how to brave a smile.

I’m in a different bed almost every night...usually a sleeping bag on the floor.

I experience the familiar waves of nausea that accompany early morning departures...I've never been a good traveler.

New faces greet us each evening, at churches where we are expected to say hello, and make small talk.

Most of the time I love it. New friends. New experiences. New memories.

But then there are nights when I have had enough.

I don't want to talk. I don't want to sing. I don't feel like smiling.

I want to hide.

I didn't know that I was an introvert back then.

I had never taken a personality test. But truthfully the title of Pastor/Missionary's kid meant that you became the "right personality." The one who had a warm smile. The one who said hello. The one who put other's needs before your own.

And, all of these are good traits.

I have an enduring gratefulness for the way I was raised...even that I was raised in the spotlight.
Good manners have been my friends. And, being pushed outside of my comfort zone has been helpful.

In this case, hiding is not a temptation because I feel hurt, or particularly terrorized.

I am tempted to hide, because I wonder if I can be what the person "needs."

Mostly, I'm afraid that the person in front of me might "require" something of me that I don't feel able to give.

It's a kind of stage fright, except the stage is my life, and the fear comes from the need to impress.

They can't know I'm scared.

I'd rather hide.
As a teenager, I found a great way to cope when I wanted a wall between me and the world. It was known as the "walk-man." It played music to my ears, and carried me to another reality.

There were times when I took trips with a large group of people. In order to create the illusion of a "bubble," I would put my headphones on my ears, close my eyes, and travel to a place where I didn't have to perform in any way.

The same could be said about the books I continually had my nose in.

It is said that introverts love to escape in novels, and that was the case for me.

There is something about words on a page. They don't ask anything of you, and offer the chance to become whoever the hero/heroin is in the story.

The teenage years tend to present themselves with an inclination toward awkwardness. I remember wanting to be as wholesome as the "good" kids, as cool as the "bad" kids, and as smart as the "brainy" kids.

Depending on who I was with, I wanted to create the illusion that I understood everything about who they were. And, I wanted the same respect from them. Instead of being content with being "Jamie," the reluctant introvert, who smiled at everyone, while feeling absolutely scared to death of talking to them, I wanted to project a different image.

As I mentioned before, some of this comes with the territory of "coming of age." Most teenagers will admit to a feeling of insecurity and trying to fit in.

And in the moments where I felt like I was doing everything except fitting in, I wanted to hide.

As a college student, I experienced the typical ups and downs of juggling school, work, home, and a social life.

One of the things I remember is that I didn't really enjoy going out with friends. I would much rather be one on one with a close friend, or home with a favorite novel. I loved my friends. I loved my classes and I enjoyed my life. But, at the end of the day, I longed to tuck away in my house, and take a break.

I didn't understand that part of who I was. I would feel guilty for not being more "adventurous." I would imagine that people thought I was boring. So, there were occasions in which I projected a different personality in order to protect an image I thought I needed to have.

It was at this point that my need to hide turned into something more. I began to have pangs of something that felt like fear, with a side of worry mixed in. I didn't even know what to call it. I knew that it couldn't possibly be depression, or anxiety (Right?!) I was striving to be perfect. And, perfect people didn't deal with that.

I remember a particularly hard summer while in Nursing School. I had convinced myself that taking a heavy load of classes, and starting a stressful job was a good idea. Extra homework, no sleep, plus a stress-filled job were a recipe for disaster. After a particularly hard week, and the first major feelings of anxiety, I quit the job.

I felt like a failure and I felt weak.

Of course, now I know the truth. I wasn't weak. I was unwise.

I now understand the benefits of having a carefully planned schedule with room for flexibility in it.
I now understand the necessity of a good night's sleep, plenty of water, and healthy food.
I have come to realize that saying "no" is okay, and no explanation is necessary. But, those skills would come with time and experience. I had more to learn.

"Hiding" would become an everyday reality after the birth of my first child.

I don't think you can ever forget your first "off the charts" anxiety attack. The one that comes out of nowhere, for no reason, and leaves you paralyzed. Unable to think, unable to move and unable to breathe normally. - I felt like I was dying.

I was rescued by my Dad, who drove 30 minutes to help me get home.

From that day until now, I have been a different person.

My severe anxiety attack led to a fear of driving, a fear of public places and of crowds.

Suddenly, hiding from the world was my only mode of survival. And, in order to hide, I had to make excuses.

A friend might call and ask, "Do you want to go do ___________?"

I would freeze.

"What if I go, and I have a panic attack while I'm there?" "What if there is no way to escape?" "What if I have to tell them what is going on?" And the most troubling question, "What if they think I'm crazy?"

So I would come up with a lame excuse as to why I was unable to attend the function in question.

For the next 5 years, I would battle extreme social anxiety, hiding who I really was from almost everyone.

I sought perfectionism, and in my mind, a perfect person didn't admit that they were a mess. - And that's exactly what I was... A high-functioning mess, who was frequently sick due to the worry and fear that wrecked my body.

My 3rd child was a year old when I had to come out of hiding.

After 5 years of pretending I was okay. After years of hiding in public restrooms and hyperventilating...praying for strength to get through the rest of my grocery shopping. After an incident that left me physically and emotionally ill, I admitted it was time to get help.

My husband drove me to my Doctor, where I told him the truth. The nightmare I had been living in for the past 5 years.

I can still remember the tears that poured down my face, as he looked in my eyes and said, "Your body is sick...You need help."

Somehow, taking a pill to help me cope with life seemed like a cop-out, which is why I had never considered it before. I wouldn't be controlled by anything.

And yet, here I was, nodding silently, as my caring Doctor wrote out the prescription that would alter my thought processes. I was terrified. But, I knew it was time to let my perfectionism go.

I knew it was time to get well.

Those first few months weren't easy. Adjusting to life-altering medication is no walk in the park. I remember one particular instance in which I kept leaving a meeting I was in. The person leading it finally asked, "Are you okay? What's going on?" I burst into tears, and confessed that I was on a new medication for anxiety.

It was a wall that I was letting down.

I was slowly coming out of hiding.

That was 4 years ago.

I wish I could tell you that my hiding days are completely over. - They are not.

I am still tempted to hide from life, instead of hiding in the shelter that God offers. (Psalm 46:1-3 & Psalm 46:1)

I still experience a certain level of anxiety and fear, and yet I have such hope.

I am confident that God is working all things together for my good.

With prayer, support, and some fantastic coping mechanisms, I am making it in a way I didn't think possible.

I had a friend tell me to thank God for my anxiety.

I have done that.

I thank Him that He has given me insight into what so much of the world goes through. I know what it's like to wake up each morning, uncertain if you can handle one thing well.

I am well acquainted with the fear that grips your mind as you push yourself W-A-Y out of your comfort zone.

And I am also acquainted with the courage that comes when you choose to rely on a strength that is not your own.

Nothing I have done has come easy, but I am stronger because of it.

So, I will thank God. I will surrender to the plans He has for me. I will give Him my worry-filled mind, and ask Him to renew a right spirit within me (Psalm 51:10)

As I look back through my journal entries at the beginning of my experience with anxiety, I am struck with one in particular.

I wrote the following...

I'm trying so hard to keep my focus on God and His Word through this hard time. I'm so ready to be "healed" instantly, but maybe that's not what God wants. Maybe He has more for me to learn, so He doesn't want to let me just "get over it." Right when I think I can't go on, He helps me through an especially hard time. It's helping me to realize that He is right there beside me...I believe that He is refining me for a purpose I can't see clearly yet. As a Pastor's wife, I will need to have extreme compassion and already these experiences have helped me to have more of that! Someday I pray that I will look back at this time in my life as a defining moment...when I overcame a huge obstacle with God's divine help.

So, if you are in the midst of your own season of hiding, know that you are not alone.

It's okay to open the door, and allow people into the space that you guard so carefully.

Ask for help.

Allow people the chance to show compassion.

Accept the fact that you are not perfect, and work on the areas you are lacking in from a place of purpose, rather than perfectionism.

Appreciate the intricate way your body is made, and the fact that it will let you know when something is not right. Healing may take time, but healing will come.

It's easy to hide when you are hurting. Whether the pain is physical or emotional, the desire to run from it is very real.

What I've found is that "hiding and hoping," is not as effective as "honesty and healing."

There may be times when you feel as if you can't meet up to your expectations, or the imagined expectations of others.

In those moments, remember that God created you exactly how He needed you to be, so that you could fulfill a role no one else could.

Take courage.

Be healed, not hidden.

Hopeful Parenting

2015-07-07T15:25:00.000-07:00

Image by: Photography by Jamie Taylor

I watch my children play in the sun-bathed yard. - It's an idyllic scene.

I walk by their pictures on the wall, and pause...contemplating what their future holds.

Life is unpredictable. I've heard it all my life, and have put the rhetoric into practice.

I know that I can't predict what will happen next year, next month, or even in the next minute.

It has always been my preference to keep a controlled hand on the unfolding pages of my story.

I wrote the "Once upon a time," and "They lived happily ever after" stories as a young girl.

Every girl got her guy. Every sunset was glorious, and every character was the picture of perfection.

If I could edit those childish stories now, I would add a whole layer of realistic drama to the story lines.

Isn't it funny how life works?

My husband and I are raising 4 unpredictable human beings, who will undoubtedly have their own versions of the family story we are creating.

We don't know who they will end up becoming, what they will end up creating, or how they will end up living.

It occurred to me the other day that my children will most likely have some type of "smart device" in their possession in the near future. I realized that even if I tried to protect them from these limitless investigators into the internet, they will at some point be exposed to the vastness of the world-wide-web.

I don't mind telling you the momentary feeling of terror that gripped me right then.

I found myself asking questions in my mind...

"How will I keep them from the evil out there?"

"How will I convince them that there are beneficial paths to walk upon?"

"How can I control the outcome of their lives?"

You see, I realize that no matter how many boundaries I put around them, no matter how many filters or safeguards I put in place, there will come a day when the choice will become their own.

I've read statistics about the psychological harm that comes with exposure to explicit content.

I've read about the torment they have to endure replaying all the things they have seen, read, or listened to.

And I look at my children's generation, many of whom are in possession of unlimited internet access late at night or the ability to watch TV from the comfort of their bedroom, and I wonder...

What baggage will this generation be dealing with?

What images will they be unable to force out of their tortured minds?

Which lyrics will play over and over in their heads as they attempt to sleep?

And, then, how many of them will believe that behavior like that is some version of normal?

The truth is, I'm something of an idealist.

I am a firm believer that just because there is potential for failure, does not mean it has to turn into a reality.

I've seen enough parents raise outstanding children when the odds were not in their favor.

I've seen young men who were written off as societal failures turn into men of integrity and faithfulness.

I've seen young women who were plagued by painful memories of destructive behavior, transformed into delightful emissaries of grace, who are desperate to rescue anyone from the possibility of their past.

Because redemption is a reality.

Change is possible.

Breaking generational curses is something I know is within reach.

I guess that is why I have hope.

I was there when my parents raised me.

I know what I was capable of.

I saw the person I could have turned out to be (and still could if I made wrong choices).

I know what happened in my mind when their control over me loosened.

I have no trouble recalling the time when it occurred to me that I was free to make my own choices.

Suddenly I had the ability to go anywhere I felt like, watch and listen to anything I wanted, and become the person I decided I should be.

How liberating, you might say...

And yet, I could not get my parent's voices out of my head!

Every snippet of wisdom, every instruction, every purposeful discipline was with me forever.

It still is...more than a decade after leaving home.

And, truthfully, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Because you see, I know what I am capable of.

I am aware of the temptations that come my way daily.

And I am also very much aware of the consequences of any poor choices I may contemplate.

Because of the faithful instruction of loving parents, I know that the things I choose to dwell on will determine the trajectory of my life.

And while I can't control who my children end up becoming, any more than my parents could with me, I can follow in their footsteps.

There are no guarantees with parenting.

Discipline, instruction, boundaries...all are needed, but don't guarantee a promising future.

But, there is one method of parenting that I believe our children can never ignore.

That is, the consistent declaration of God's will and purpose over their lives.

They may choose to follow unhealthy patterns of living, but when they come to the end of their proverbial rope, one strand of hope will endure.

"The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results."

(James 5:16 NLT)

I am choosing to hold on to the promises that my parents held on to, and are still trusting in.

Prayer will be the foundation of my parenting.

Guidance and instruction will be lovingly encircled with the fervent prayer of this Mommy.

I don't know what I'm going to think of our parenting skills when I look back.

But, one thing I am sure of... I will do my best to pray with expectancy, knowing that the same God that answered my parent's prayers, is the One who will hear my cry.

I pray with fervent hope...and I trust in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob to "equip [them] with all [they] need for doing his will. [That] he produce in [them], through the power of Jesus Christ, every good thing that is pleasing to him. All glory to him forever and ever! Amen." (from Hebrews 13:21).

I leave you with the prayer that I pray almost every night over our children:

"All your children shall be taught by the LORD, and great shall be the peace of your children."

(Isaiah 54:13)

Don't judge me

2015-05-04T15:28:00.000-07:00

How many of us are perfect?

How many of us can say that we do things well every single day?

I would venture to say that no one can answer that positively.

Of course we know that we are not perfect.

As a Christ follower, I believe that I have a great need for Jesus because when I come to God on my own, I cannot please Him.

I am sinful.

I am flawed.

I cannot stand as righteous before Him.

But, when I accept the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on my behalf,

I am named a child of the King.

And, while I am forgiven of my sin,

I cannot ignore and gloss over sin.

Repentance includes a turn from wrong.

It indicates a pursuit of what is right.

As our Pastor said recently, "you cannot pursue Jesus and pursue sin at the same time."

Why is it that "modern Christians" don't want to live that out?

We want Jesus to have our back, but do not want to live the sacrificial life that comes with declaring Christ to be the Lord of our lives.

The Boss.

The One who calls the shots.

The One who is allowed to point out sin in our lives.

When you take the time to study God's Word, you

find a system of church leadership in the Bible.

We are to submit to "biblical leaders" who have authority over us.

We look to them for guidance...for encouragement...for accountability.

And yet I notice an interesting trend in the modern church world.

People are not interested in being guided.

If you confront anyone on sin in their life you will receive a fascinating response...

"You are a sinner, so you can't judge me."

So, let me get this straight?

Me telling you the good news about Jesus...God in human form, who has taken

the penalty of our sins on himself when we repent (turn) from our sins is "judging you?"

He invites you to repent and leave your life of sin...not me.

If I am telling you that a sin is harmful and should be eradicated from your life,

I am judging you?

If I am warning you that following in that path will lead to a life of pain, I am judging you?

Please forgive me...I was trying to help.

I, as a believer in the inspired Word of God believe that

when we are told to flee from sin, it's kind of important.

It almost gets comical at times.

It's like the man that just murdered someone is looking at a child who just stole a cookie from the cookie jar, and says, "You are a sinner too, so don't tell me what I just did was wrong."

Was the child stealing from the cookie jar wrong?

Of course!

It was a sin, and if that child knows it to be a sin, they should make it right.

But does that mean, he can't look at a murderer and say to that person,

"Murder is a sin, and you shouldn't do it?"

Of course not!

That would be insanity in it's purest form.

Would you agree that some counterfeit Christians have messed up the system?

Have some hypocrites given us pause when it comes to true accountability?

Of course.

Christianity, lived out in the way it was created to be lived out brings healing, restoration, community, and wholeness.

It involves wiser Christians who have gone before us,

mentoring those of us who are young in the faith.

It involves a loving rebuke of sin.

It is characterized by carefulness.

It is life to the lifeless.

Hope to those in despair.

Rescue to those who are in trouble.

Freedom for those who are in bondage.

Because the wages of sin is DEATH.

Because the extra pain that comes from a sinful life can be avoided.

We will have trouble in this world because it is a fallen world.

But, why would you want more pain than necessary?

God has given us a road map in His Word.

Is it restrictive?

YES.

Are there rules?

Boundaries?

Yes.

The fences keep us safe.

Why would we rebel against safety that comes from the God of Heaven and of Earth?

He created us.

He knitted us together in our Mother's wombs.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made.

And God, who made us, knows the things that will harm us.

He has given warnings in His "love letter" to us.

He wants to free us from the power of:

Deceitfulness

Pride

Anger

Lack of Self-control

Sexual Sin

This small list of sins that tempts us everyday will destroy our peace, our joy, and the fulfilling life that God wants to give us.

As loving parents we want to shield our children from things that harm them.

We have an ideal plan for helping our children flourish in the best way possible.

Can we not see that God (the ultimate Father) has done that for us?

He has given us a choice.

We can pursue sin.

We can live a life that leads to destruction.

But, He calls us without condemnation, and welcomes us into His loving embrace.

To my friends who are followers of The Way,

keep focused on what is important.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind,

and your neighbor as yourself. (from Matthew 22)

But, in loving your neighbor as yourself...

Call sin what it is...

Sin.

Whether it is found in your life, or in the life of your neighbor.

Don't be afraid to call it sin.

And, look to Jesus...The author and finisher of our faith.

I know He can rescue someone from the pursuit of sin, because He rescued me.

I don't say that to brag on my own feeble attempts at perfection.

I testify to the fact that Christ has placed within me

His power, His strength, and His perfect love.

Because of that change in my life, I see sin for what it truly is.

Disgusting.

Sick.

Filthy.

And, quite frankly something I want nothing to do with.

I am not perfect.

Rather, by God's grace, I am being perfected.

One moment at a time.

When I fall, I fall forward towards the Son of God who rescued me.

I refuse to pursue a life of sin.

And, I declare that all sin is harmful.

I will no longer be afraid to speak out about

what is considered "acceptable sin,"

just because a fallen world tells me I cannot.

I don't care what sin we choose to partake in...

All of it will bring us pain.

May we seek healing from the One who is waiting for us.

The Healer.

The Redeemer.

The Savior of the World.

And allow Him to create in us a clean heart...to bend our will to the curve of His own.

And rely on His strength to live out our faith in a faithless world.

Not in absolute perfection.

Not with performance-based religion.

But armed with prayer, steadied by peace, and confident in purpose,

may we live a courageous life.

Unafraid to call sin what it is, and denounce it's power in our lives.

A possibility only through the Spirit of the living God.