Living an Inspired Life

Daring to do something great

2013-09-04T20:22:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone, I am slowly making the transition over to my new website www.danitietjen.com.

I posted a new blog there tonight and would love it if you checked it out.

Soon and very soon I will add a blog feeder to the site so if you subscribed here, you can do the same there.

Thanks, and let me know what you think of the new site!

http://danitietjen.com/danitietjen

Be blessed

How's the book coming?

2013-07-29T18:47:00.002-07:00

I am getting that question quite often these days, and rightfully so. I am writing the first book of my career. My first, so it won't be my last.

It's a big thing. A REALLY BIG THING.

I am afraid my answer to this question isn't really giving people a lot of confidence in me either.

I usually look at them with glazed over eyes, a little lost and a lot overwhelmed, and always tired. And with that look I pause and then say, "It's good. I mean it's going OK." And then I don't know where to go from there, because what I really want to say is this:

Aggghhhhh!!!!!!!! I have so many emotions I don't know which one to grab onto in this moment!

It is more work than I ever anticipated.

It's incredibly hard. When I say hard, I mean it in a 'go through 9 months of painful pregnancy where you are sick almost every day, you get painful gas and gross stretch marks, you are excited for this adventure but didn't realize you would loose your ankles, your identity, your bladder and your sanity in the process. Then you go through 36 hours of labor and 5 hours of pushing a baby out of your body that you are pretty sure isn't supposed to come through that way.' That kind of every day, all that I am is this process. That's what I mean by hard.

It's frustrating because when you have time to write, the thoughts don't come. Then when they do, you've written one page in four hours when you thought you would have the next chapter done.

I have never felt more insecure in my life! Questioning and double guessing if it's enough, if what you have written should be said a different way. Do you tell a story in a third person, first person? Do I write the story like I tell it from stage? Geezzzz, all those thoughts, then I have to spend the next half hour in prayer getting rid of those insecure thoughts that I intended to spend writing. Now I am behind again!

I always feel behind.

I always feel stressed.

I always feel pressure. Pressure that if I am sitting still, I should be writing or researching for the book. Moments of peace aren't mine to have these days.

I feel imbalanced. Every aspect of my life winding its way around this project and I don't like it. It easily takes the joy out of it and I don't want that. I want to love this, to enjoy this, to feel inspired by this. Those moments feel too few and far between.

I feel excited that what once was a dream is going to be a reality.

I feel very blessed to have a writing partner that makes this book better, and then try not to feel inadequate in the process.

I feel like I can't give the book my whole attention, or my family , or my life, or my friends.

I feel overwhelmed by people's confidence in this project, in me. Their encouragement, their kind words, their prayers, their help babysitting, all so I can write and not neglect the kids.

I feel worried about people's expectations.

I feel overwhelmed by own.

I feel scared about Henry's.

Then I pray again.

And it's better. I remember that I do this because I feel called to honor God in this and support my family and extend my ministry. I remember that I won't be defined by this moment or this project. That this project is one step in the journey of discovering myself as a writer, a speaker, a professional, a person. This is not all I have, this is just the beginning.

Then I when I wake up, I go through all these thoughts again. It is a constant picking up the stress and letting it go.

So...I am not sure how to answer that question when people ask me. I really just want to blurt out all these things and how much of a mess I feel most of the time. But I don't. I just say, "It's good".

I do believe it is good. Being refined by this process is good. Pushing at my insecurities and my stress and my life values are good. They force me to think through my choices, my identity and who I am. They force me to let go of expectations I didn't realize I was trying to live up to. They allow me to see God's goodness in this process. They give me a more aware sense of self, and this is before anyone has even read the book! I can't imagine the tough skin I am going to need when the book comes out.

So, as hard as this is, it is good. But that one word means all these things to me right now. Through this process, I am more open, vulnerable and humble and excited all at the same time. In the end, I realize why so many people equate writing a book with having a baby. It makes sense to me. The process is so much harder than you anticipated, but the rewards of self discovery and having your heart out there in print is totally going to be worth it.

Living in the tension: How do we help others?

2013-07-27T22:20:00.000-07:00

Driving to the grocery store, I noticed a man lying on the ground at the bus stop. Something in the way he was haphazardly lying there, told me it wasn't a natural nap position. I have seen countless homeless men and women lying on the ground to rest. I have seen even more college students, or bikers, resting in the grass as they wait for the bus. Nothing about this man's position communicated that he landed that way on the ground on purpose. His arm was akwardly behind his head and his legs didn't look natural.

Something didn't seem right.

I was driving, and only had a moment to process what I saw. I had to keep driving, or risk getting hit by the car behind me.

It didn't feel right though, driving away.

Every other car I saw was driving away. None of them were driving toward the man to help.

I sat at the light and processed what it meant that we live in a culture that dozens of cars would pass a man, not moving, lying on the ground in an unnatural way. It made me sad to be apart of the culture that was either too busy, too focused or too scared to care. (Does this remind you of a parable Christ told?)

The light turned green and I turned around to go back.

At the very same time that I drove up, two other cars had turned around and were stopping.

My faith in humanity being restored a little in that moment.

I got out of my car to check the situation and talk with one of the other women that stopped who was on the phone with 911. We could see he was breathing, but he still looked so unnatural and very, very still. No one had approached him or touched him.

I walked over closer to the man so that I could get a better look and he could hear me talk to him. I was just out of arms reach, and asked in a loud voice if he was OK. He sat up, startled, and said he was fine. I asked if he needed help, and he just laid back down.

Something didn't feel right.

I went to stand back next to the other women, and then the sirens of the police came from every direction. Before we knew it, three police cars pulled up and took over.

An officer came out of her car and asked the gentleman if he was alright. He sat up again, attesting to the fact that he was fine. She asked if he needed any help since he was at the bus station and missed the bus just moments before. His immediate response was, "PLEASE! Don't take me back to rehab."

The officers looked at us and told us everything would be fine. They told us they had it covered, they thanked us for phoning in, and we could go about our day. These women and I exchanged glances, not knowing what else to do and said our good byes.

I did my shopping and on the way home 20 minutes later, the police were still there with an ambulance getting ready to the take the man to the local hospital.

I felt sad and relieved at the same time. Life is clearly difficult for this man, but I was so thankful he was getting help.

I came home and starting telling this tale to Paul with Big listening intently to our conversation. Paul was of course immediately frustrated with me that I got out of the car. He let his frustration show in the way he exhaled his breath. Then he said something like, "Why did you do something so dumb?"

To which Big cried, "Mama didn't do anything dumb! That's bad to say that dad. She helped someone! She did what she was supposed to. Mama did something nice!"

Paul let me finish, then turned to Big and said, "I am happy mommy helped someone. I really am. But mommy could have stayed in the car where she was safe and called 911. She risked her life by getting out and approaching that man. He could have tricked her and was there waiting for an attack. I always want mommy to help, but I need her to be safe. She could have helped just as much by staying safely in the car, and getting the police there."

That is where the tension is. That is what I felt in the car as I watched so many people pass by. Not doing anything to help. Not stopping.

How do we live in the light of hope and love while always being aware and safeguarding against the darkness?

I completely understand where Paul is coming from. I get it.

And even while I get it, it breaks my heart that thoughts of protecting myself while helping others is a needed reality.

Gone are the days of just simply putting the needs of someone else before your own. It is needed to be aware of the traps and scams and people that will take advantage of kindness. It hurt as Paul and I tried to explain this to our son. We deeply desire to spur him on towards loving and helping others. We want his life to reflect a heart for all people. And yet, in that reality, we must make sure that he is at least aware of the darkness. Aware enough that he is smart in the way he lives and comes to the aid of friends and strangers as he grows older.

There lies a tension in seeing people in their brokenness and doing what we can to help and love them, while remaining smart about how we go about it.

I want to throw caution out the window and just dive in. I don't want to think about myself, or believe the worst in people. I desire to do whatever I can to help someone, just because they need it. However, Paul is right. We live in a world where that could have easily been a trap and I would have walked right into it. I could have suffered great damage or been one of thousands of women who disappear at the hands of a stranger, thus leaving behind a husband and three children, wifeless and motherless.

We can't be the people who just drive by, not seeing, or being too terrified to step out in love, worried always only about ourselves.

We must be a people who live in the hardness of the tension, especially as we teach our children. We must be a people who helps a fellow man or woman or child in their moment of need. I believe we can do it, while we are smart about it.

We can't let fear win.

Love has to win. Selflessness must win. Compassion still exists, even in the tension.

I don't have an answer. I don't know how to teach my children about this whole idea of loving others while protecting yourself. I wrestle with it, not knowing how to understand it or live in it.

But I know I desire to find a way. I desire for my children to always help others, and I desire for them to be smart.

In the meantime, we live in the tension, (hopefully leaning more towards love and selflessness).

Taking care of business

2013-07-18T12:50:00.001-07:00

I am writing a book.

I am writing a Bible Study, discussion guides and four brand new talks for a large conference in Sept.

I am writing four brand new talks and four group discussion guides for a camp I am speaking at next week.

I am working on our kids summer school schedule, planning field trips, organizing cooking classes, reading projects and math homework.

I am creating my first ever website on my own, which is is a HUGE feat for me and one I am growing more proud of, but am on a steep learning curve.

I am working with a great gal that is doing some business things for me, including researching new places where my ministry would be a good fit and doing some local booking to keep me closer to home.

I am writing and creating a new press kit to help connect with new clients.

I am gardening and weeding and harvesting and canning already.

These are the reasons I have't been blogging, even though I have so much I want to share with you. Many of these projects will be done by August, but I am hoping to do a bit more blogging before then.

I wanted to tell you though that soon my blog won't be posted here. It will be connected with my new website on Squarespace. I will continue to post here for a bit, and help transition this site, but soon I will only post on the new website. I will have a feeder there that you can sign up for to get notifications directly to your email when I post if you are that much of a fan.

I find it common decency to at least let you know that soon I will be changing things over. The website is coming along and is almost ready.

Thank you all for your patience. I enjoy doing life with you and will get back to posting soon. Having free time at camp allows a bit more time for fun writing, on my blog.

Be blessed today and I will keep you posted about the switch over and new website.

Hiking turns us into a circus

2013-07-06T19:49:00.002-07:00

As we walked to the rose quartz mine this year, it reminded me so much of our experience from last year.

Somehow because of the schedule, I still ended up in a skirt and ballet slipper shoes. I had Paul with me though and 15 other people so it was easier to pass Little around instead of carrying her on my own.

We did run into a few mutilated deer limbs though, which I am not sure I will ever get used to. Seeing animal body parts that have been torn to shred by a larger, fiercer animal should by my first indicator that I should turn and go home.

We paused just as much though as Big gathered so many rocks before we even got to the mine that he had to hold his pants up, otherwise the weight would pull them down.

Apparently this little hike seems to bring out our ridiculousness.

Either way, here is a fun story for you to read and enjoy from our South Dakota camping adventure.

I did laugh out loud when I read that I shouldn't do this hike again, or at least remember what happened last year. Clearly, I didn't do that before we went hiking, me in my skirt and girl shoes.

Happy evening everyone.

The storms that seem to destroy our trust

2013-07-05T08:56:00.000-07:00

It was early morning, the kids fell back asleep tucked in their car seats and wrapped in their blankets. I had iced coffee and Sanders Bohke filling the car with soulful rich music. It was a beautiful way to start our 12 hour drive home. I was waiting for the sun to come up and greet us. I was looking forward to the start of a brand new day, with the hopes of being filled with adventure and giggles from my kids as we sang silly songs and played games in the car.

We were heading west, so I watched the first signs of orange and red in the rearview mirror. The further we drove however, it was clear that there was a huge storm in front of us. At one point, immediately after the kids woke up, the sun was shining behind us, there were gray clouds over us, with slight sprinkles that brought out a double rainbow, but in the distance, I saw the blackness and I worried. Big still really struggles with storms. His triggers are dark clouds and thunder and instead of being safely tucked in a home under its protection, we were traveling in the big metal box that he saw damaged and pierced with tree limbs in the tornado two years ago. His faith in our current protection was shattered as he too noticed the black clouds coming. He looked out and said in a high pitched worried voice, “mama, its coming! Look, something bad is coming!”

I tried to reassure him that we would be OK. We worked on reality therapy. I would ask him questions like, “Does thunder hurt us? What is thunder? What happens if it rains? Who is bigger than this storm? What has you worried the most?” All these things he would answer, trying to hold onto the truth that the rain doesn't hurt and the thunder is just noise and we are never left alone.

But then we drove in the storm and even I got afraid. Never in my life have I driven through such a storm. It was almost like a winter white out, the rain was coming down so hard I couldn't see if front of us. The sky moved from grey, to dark, to midnight black. The rain pounded our car so hard that I couldn't even talk to the kids. I had to scream to them that we were all right which just seemed to make it worse. The thunder cracked so loud the windshield shook at one point. The lightening would pierce the sky over and over. My hands were white knuckled on the steering wheel and I kept questioning whether we should pull over and stop and wait it out. I knew though however that if I kept focused we could push through and get through the storm faster, than just sitting in it and waiting for it to pass.

I needed my kids to trust me. I took my eyes off the road for one brief moment to check the review mirror to make sure they were OK. I saw all three kids huddled together with their blankets over their heads. I saw Big, Middle and Little all holding hands.

As I drove through that storm, I am sure my children wished with all their might that I would pull over and find a safer place to be. They wished that somehow I could make the storm stop, to just make it go away and bring the sun back. But I wasn't doing that. I kept driving through the storm and I needed them to trust me. I needed them to trust me to make the right choice in driving through the storm. That I knew when the storm was OK to drive through, and when it was time to pull over. I needed them to trust that I would keep them safe even though they were scared. I needed them to trust my love for them, that even though things were very hard right in this moment, I wouldn't do anything to hurt them. Even when it felt absolutely terrifying, I needed them to trust me.

And then the rain started to ease up. The thunder slowly started to sound softer, and the lightening was no longer flashing in the sky. Streams of light starting to shine through the clouds and all of a sudden, we were on the other side. The blackness we just drove through was behind us, reflecting in the review mirror, and the light was bright in front of us.

We had made it.

The kids slowly pulled down their blankets from their heads, and peaked out. They cautiously looked at me and asked, “Is it over? Are we safe again?”

Yes. We made it through. Even though it was scary and hard, we made it through.

In the midst of the storm it was impossible to imagine it being over. The storm raged so loud around us that it was all we could see, all we could hear, all we could live in. I wasn't thinking about when it was over, I was thinking about, how do we live in this place right now and be OK?

And then God spoke softly in my heart, reminding me of how little I trust him when things are truly hard and overwhelming in my life and all I can see is the pain and the suffocating struggle of every day. In that moment in the car, he begged me to trust him, just as I wanted my children to trust me.

There are days when I shut down and I hide in books or TV or FB or Twitter and I don’t want to come out. I don’t want to face the things that make life hard. I hide instead of handing my struggle to the Lord really learning what it means to trust him to guide me through it.

My children made it through that terrifying experience in the car that day. While we walked back to our cabin this week in the black hills of SD, there were black clouds approaching and thunder rumbling in the distance. As Big squeezed my hand, he looked at me and said, “We made it through that bad storm in the car mama, we can get through this one too.”

That is the great thing about trust. When you put your trust in the one who can provide for you and get you through, every storm gets a little easier because they have proven to be trustworthy. They become someone you can count on.

I spoke to Henry that day in the car and recalled the storm experience for him. The first thing he said to me was, “You have a story in there.” And he was right.

God has a way of taking the moments in our life and turning them into truths that we can hold on to get us through this journey called life. These moments that can ground us in peace and love as we fight through the storms of life. Our little family was scared that day, but we are stronger for it and God rested his peaceful hand on our hearts.

As we press on

2013-07-04T09:55:00.003-07:00

I sat in a worship service in the black hills tonight. I was surrounded by family and friends and strangers. The candles were lit, the lights low, the music soft and gentle brushing over people’s hearts. It wasn't just quiet, it was still.

We all faced the cross and the words were read, “Take a deep breath. Breathe in and breathe out, breathe the very breath that connects you to the one who made you.”

I closed my eyes tight hoping beyond hope that I could grasp onto that connection. I wanted desperately to feel passionately about my faith again. I have been running on empty. That deep connection to your spirit, the one that lights up your eyes has been missing. The list of things to do weighs heavier on me than I like to admit. Instead of breaking down, I have become numb. I get through the day. I try to laugh and enjoy my family each day. I try to write and find progress on the long list of projects that people are waiting to get from me. I try to somehow just maintain a semi clean home where my family has clothes to wear and something to eat. The monotony of each day with the pressure to accomplish super human possibilities causes me to shut down so that I can keep pressing towards the goal. I accomplish all these things, but they are done with heaviness in my heart and a worn look in my spirit.

My prayers seem rehearsed.

The Biblical teaching to my children when correcting or encouraging them feels empty.

My running in the morning that used to be filled with cries out to God for guidance and help are silent these days. I don’t even know what to say. I fill pages after pages with words for multiple projects and then I have none when I am left alone to share my heart with God.

All the things that I used to do to try to reconnect to my spirit aren't working. Or I am too tired to really care to try.

It feels stale, and worn and tiring.

I used to believe that it was wrong to say such things, till I realized that at some point we all feel that way. About our faith, our life, our relationships. Trying to ignore it never works though.

But tonight, in the black hills of South Dakota, I breathed deep. I breathed out and breathed in.

I was reminded that the very breath I have inside of me is the one God gave me directly. It is his breath that gives us life. And so even in the midst of feeling distant and cold and shut down, I am still connected to him and my spirit because I live.

Because I am alive, he is with me.

Even when I am running on empty, he does not leave me. Every breath I take belongs to him.

I had peace in my soul for the first time in awhile remembering this truth.

I am not alone, nor am I lost.

He remains with me, even when I am over committed and underwhelmed.

He is also with you, in every breath you take.

Behind the scenes

2013-06-18T14:13:00.002-07:00

Paul and I have been talking a lot about our family values and what are our priorities are. We have needs as a family as a couple and as individuals and we want to maximize the richness of those relationships.

As we talk about the kind of family we want to create, time together is at the top of our list. Time to talk, to play, to teach, to encourage. We want to pass on our living and active faith to our children. We want them to see by our actions and how we spend our time that they and the Lord are important to our family's foundation. You need time to create that understanding.

So one of the first things we did was evaluate our time and careers. How can we maximize our work effort with increasing our family time? We are both very aware of how quickly our children are growing up, and neither one of us wants to miss it. These next 10-12 years are going to fly by and we have agreed that we want to be as present and wholeheartedly there for our children as possible.

The only way though to decrease Paul's work load is to increase mine. I have been a stay at home for the last six years and it is both of our intentions to keep it that way, even with the children in school. I do however have a passion and small career in traveling every couple months to go speak at conferences and retreats. It's perfect because it keeps me at home, but allows me a weekend away every once in awhile. Well, to increase my job means to get more gigs and travel more. That, however goes against our priority and value of family.

So...what to do.

After taking much prayer time and vision planning, I came up with a plan. If I am going to speak, than I would prefer it to be while Paul is at work and the kids are at school. This means local gigs in schools, churches and mom groups. These are usually simple and no more than 30 min. They would take up limited time and if my goal was to do one a week, that would increase my work load by 100%. So the goal is twice a month to start out. I even hired a gal to help me with the booking so that my time would still be free to write and develop the quality of talks I want to deliver. This and spend time doing my family responsibilities.

Doing local gigs while not taking away family time is step one.

The other piece is that while I love to travel and will continue to do it on a limited basis, I do want my ministry to extend past the Twin Cities. This is where the book comes in. The book is a beautiful way to get my heart on paper and put into the hands of people who need it. It is the beginning step. I like to write but really wasn't sure I was capable of a book. Now I have ideas for the next three I want to write. Ha, crazy right? There is also dreams of some other great ideas that keep me at home, but put my ministry out there for others.

I felt like things were coming together. I was excited about the way I could continue to do my ministry, while really not taking time away from the kids. It means I manage my time a bit more, and right now its all still a theory, because nothing has changed, but it gives me a goal and vision.

It also allowed me to own my ministry and take responsibility for it. For the last few years I just kind of let it happen. If people call me, I take a gig. I have a website, but its my transitional website till I took the time to develop it. I didn't seek out gigs. I didn't know how to talk about my ministry because it was always an after thought.

Then Paul challenged me to step up to the plate. He is my biggest supporter and was sad to see me not developing my heart for sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ.

So in order to branch out and get new gigs, I need the marketing materials and the language to talk about who I am. The last few months have been quite the identity crisis. Much of my ministry has been me praying about who I am on stage, what is it that I want to say to people and how do present myself to potential clients and my audience? It's been hard long hours of research, journaling, and discovery.

So I had a meeting with Guy from Vision Van Gogh, who specializes in helping artists develop who they are. He met with me and we talked about the importance of the professionalism of your website and press kit. It is the first thing people see about you. It is how they determine if you are capable to be hired by them. What do I want them to know about me? And a lot of that is based on photo's. A website is built around photo's as well as your press kit.

So now I sat with all this information. I now understood that I need great photo's that will allow people to connect with me, create professional materials that will allow me to get new gigs with new clients locally while my kids are in school, to help make that little bit of extra money for our family, to keep Paul from working three jobs, so we can all spend more time together building a family based on faith and trust and love.

If we connect the dots, the first step is pictures.

I have a really hard time designing a website for myself. I understand that people need to see me on my website so they know a little about me and it creates a connection. Connection is the base of what I do. But I don't want a website that just has photo's of me. I think it's weird. So I need a photo where I am a part of a picture, and the picture communicates to you, who I am, but it's not me all over the place.

One photo that tells you who I am. That doesn't sound hard? Ha!

It took me a couple months looking through band photo's, actor's photo's, singers, performers, it didn't matter. I was researching websites and head shots and press kits, all trying to see what others were doing to find my own way. I couldn't find a location that I liked, or an idea for a photo that felt like me.

And what I realized is that I don't want a website that is just for my speaking. I want a place where my blog can fit, where people can find out about the book, where I can start an Etsy account for the art I make. So now, my website is not just for my speaking career, but its also for me. All the ideas for locations for a photo shoot seemed like they were only a part of me. I didn't want a city landscape because even though we live in the city, it is only a part of us. I didn't want a family photo, because even though they are the biggest thing in my life, I am someone outside of them. I didn't want to be out in a barn or country scape or railroad crossing, or brick wall. All those things didn't feel right.

So I came up with something that felt natural, real, comforting. I want to create an inviting and creative space. I wanted a nook of trees that had elements of our home in them. I love the unexpected, and little surprises. So I brought our antique rug outside under the trees to create warmth. I love details that add a little flair of fun and drama, and so I draped the trees in all my scarves tied together and spent time cutting my old crafting paper and stapling them into rings. I didn't need Christmas lights because we did the shoot in the evening when the sun is low and magical and adds the effect that was perfect. So if I was going to spend time out in the wood, I want this magical little reading corner. Since it doesn't exist, I created it myself.

But then what to wear?

Again, if this is a place that I wished existed, then I would be wearing what I wanted. Since I can't find it anywhere, I decided to make a very natural makeshift skirt that resembles the drama of a time piece skirt with my kind of twist. One that is homespun and tacked together full of different textures and fabrics. There are flowers hidden in the skirt and fabrics only I could see. I love adding those little surprises. The color scheme fits me. I sewed on a little star on my plain old tank top to tie it in to the skirt.

Every little detail was thought through and intentional. Every little thing was planned there for a purpose. I even had a little fairy tucked into my old wooden book box.

So, here is the result of my photo shoot. The photo shoot that was needed to start creating marketing pieces for my ministry to help my husband and family so that we could spend more time together.

See in my world, everything has a purpose and serves our goal.

Everything comes back to my faith, my family and growing our children into strong men and women of God.

Even this.

* A business side note: I used Katrina with Studio Laguna Photography and Brett Dorrian for hair and makeup to make sure I got the dream I wanted. My vision could only go so far and I would only trust this idea to these two women. They took my idea and Brett turned my face and hair into a work of art that was perfect for this shoot. Katrina used her very honed talent and captured exactly what I wanted. She has this beautiful eye and helped me by finding the dream in my head and making it a reality by capturing it with her camera. She helped guide me and pose me so that everything was perfect. I knew I could trust these ladies, I just didn't realize how dramatic and beautiful their art was when it was all said and done. I love working with these ladies, and I would suggest using them for any of your family or wedding or business needs.

New Head shots from Studio Laguna

2013-06-06T18:14:00.001-07:00

I am blogging light today after yesterdays heavy unpacking. So...

I got new head shots today!

As a professional speaker and soon to be published author (I hope!) I need photo's for people to use in their publications and promotional materials. I have had shots taken here and there, but never the soul focus on getting the head shot. I thought it was time and they need updated.

I am putting together a new website and my photo shoot for the cover of that is next week. It's probably going to be a bit over the top, and so I wanted something simple, and down to earth for my head shot.

What I would like to stress is I have never worked with anyone as amazing as Katrina Hannemann from Studio Laguna. Her and her husband Jon are without any sugar added, the BEST to work with. Katrina is so personable and friendly. When you meet with her, you feel as if you have been friends forever. She is kind and witty and so creative. She has this extensive knowledge of putting together shots with people and props in locations that are perfect for them. It is such a joy to work with her.

As seen below, she has the ability to bring beauty out in everything. We laughed a lot in our brief photo shoot. We talked and shared pieces of life together. She is so professional, and yet it didn't feel like work.

If ever you are in need of a photographer, I wouldn't go to anyone else, and she does travel. She has been taking our family photo's for years and does one mean wedding shoot.

Anyway, today I got some work done, if you can call it that.

And my one take away from this photo shoot? My hair is crazy out of control. Seriously. And yet I still don't want to cut it.

And yes this is a sweater and pants in June. Welcome to the spring that never came to MN.

And then she just kept shooting while we were sharing a laugh in an "off camera" moment.

Katrina, thank you for giving me something so beautiful and something to be so proud of. Thank you for your eye and your direction and your amazing talent. I just think you are simply wonderful and you are my girl for life.

The art of Collaboration

2013-06-05T22:20:00.003-07:00

Some day I am going to craft a talk around collaboration.

There is something profound about working with someone and working to create something completely new out of who you are and who they are. It isn't compromise where you each give up something to find a peaceful way. Collaboration is about two people, giving 100% of who they are, doing the hard work of communicating to discover where their two thoughts and ideas come together to forge a new language. That language for Henry and I is our speaking and writing together. For others it can be music, spoken word, body art, dancing, gardening, cooking, community living, photography, leading an organization, it doesn't matter.

Collaboration is different than compromise.

What Henry and I strive to do in our work is absolute collaboration. It is what I love and hate about our work.

(If you are new to my little world in blogsphere, then I should tell you that I am a stay at home mom who travels the country very part time as an inspirational speaker and am currently working on my first book with my speaking partner, Pastor Henry Graf. Henry and I have been friends for a long time, and as two seasoned speakers, we wondered what having a conversational type presentation would look like from the stage. This gives the audience a more authentic and personal interaction with the speakers and topic of discussion. We have spoken together for years, and are currently trying our hand at moving what we do on stage, to the written word. To say the very least, we are in a very steep learning curve.)

When we started working together, Henry and I were both professional speakers. We were comfortable on stage and speaking in public. We spent time crafting our work to be dynamic presenters. Coming from a place of always taking the stage alone, it was so refreshing to share the responsibility with someone else. Someone I trusted to fill in the blanks where I missed my mark, or read the audience and take our conversation where it needed to go to reach them where they were at. I was no longer alone, and it felt very cool.

There was this really beautiful dynamic shift as well. When I take the stage alone, I can get really intense and loud and passionate and sometimes emotional. It's just kind of what I do. Sometimes it involves yelling. However, when you are sitting on stage with someone else, that doesn't tend to happen. We are talking, discussing, laughing, searching scripture together. It's very different, but very cool.

It felt like to me that I had found the perfect partner in this journey. We balance each other out because we are so different. Yes one is a man and one is a woman. One is a Pastor and one struggles with the institution of the church. But really, it reaches into the way we do life, not what we represent. Henry is very analytical and intellectual, and those are not words I would use to describe myself. He teaches, and I tell stories. He thinks, I feel. He moves fast, I am think before I act. And even though we are both intense, somehow we are intense in very different ways, and I don't know how to describe that. We bring such different things to the table for discussion, approach scripture from very different places and come away with very different ideas of what it means. It makes for great conversation.

So imagine my surprise when just months ago, I realized that Henry and I weren't collaborating at all, but I was letting him take the lead and backing out of my responsibility to my own place in our partnership.

It was hard for me to figure this out until Henry and I spoke together three months ago. We took the stage on Friday night at the conference kick off. I experienced being on stage with Henry and he wasn't in his usual "loud/big self". He felt more responsive than usual instead of charging the way. When we debriefed our talk, he simply said, "you were the big personality tonight, so I backed off. You usually aren't that dynamic."

Huh. I didn't ever really think that I backed off and tampered my personality with him. We chatted a bit more through that and continued on with our weekend.

Then, the book happened. The book started off as a T-shirt idea that for the life of us, we couldn't agree on. Then Henry had a brilliant idea that worked for us both.

Parables. Earthly stories with Heavenly meaning.

We discussed the concept of the book, "telling stories, but more than stories, finding heavenly meaning in our everyday experiences, etc." I loved it. I thought it was a perfect first book for us. It penned out on paper what we do on stage. But the more we unpacked the book and gave a structure to it, the more confusing it got for me. The harder and more complicated it became.

Henry would pen a thesis, a promotional email, a chapter outline. He was working at lightening speed and it was hard to keep up. I would read it, tweak it, process it, edit it, and send it back.

And something always felt just a little bit off. I was still a part of the process. My opinion mattered, but somehow, I was just responding, not speaking up.

And then I was standing in my kitchen, just getting off the phone with Henry, and I saw the red flags. I saw myself shrinking back in my insecurities. I was allowing my respect and admiration for Henry to shrink me. When I elevated him, I became less. I gave him the power and authority in the relationship instead of being in a partnership. I let my old demons speak into my ear. Lies that said my voice wasn't as significant as Henry's. That storytelling was silly compared to teaching deep theological ideas.

I realized I wasn't owning my part in our partnership I wasn't taking responsibility for my thoughts, my ideas, my voice and opinion. I got steamrolled. Henry wasn't doing this to me, I just let it take over.

What I realized was sometimes when we think we have overcome a weakness, a sin, it only reappears when pushed from a new angle.

I have worked alone for seven years, and now having a partner in this, this was a new angle for me. And so my weakness and insecurities came flooding out. I hated it. I didn't know what to do with it. I had moved past this. I had conquered it. I had surrendered it.

Or so I thought.

And then it brings us to last week when Henry showed up for a week of writing. A week that we were going to use to make great head way with the book.

But I couldn't move forward because I wasn't ever fully present.

And so I showed up. I really showed up and owned my voice, my opinions, my questions and my process.

We talked and processed a lot last week.

After we processed our book, our ideas, our theologies, we talked some more.

Henry would push me to finish my thoughts. To think through all the things I was trying to say but having a hard time articulating. We dissected words that meant different things to each of us so that we could come to some kind of understanding.

We put our expectations for the week aside. We sat uncomfortably the across from each other at the coffee shop and wrestled through our thoughts and opinions.

And at the end of the week, we came away with a books that feels like a conversation. A new language of Henry's ideas and my thoughts.

We collaborated and found a book that speaks a new language that we took the time to understand and create.

Collaboration is not just hard work, its uncomfortable. It is looking at your partner in the project and realizing that for you to say what you really think, you run the risk of them leaving. You run the risk of them leaving project because they are done doing the hard work to find a new way.

It's risky and scary and vulnerable. It feels exposed and in the end, the risk is worth it.

Writing a book on my own will probably be easier. However, Henry pushes me to find myself. To learn my process and understand my thoughts. I have discovered so much about myself in the last couple months. I have learned what it means to not have a boss or work alone, but to partner with someone and have them stay because they value you.

At the very least, God is using this experience to shape me. To shape Henry. To shape a new idea within us. It's exciting.

It's tiring.

It's totally worth it.

Collaboration. You need to be 100% yourself in order to have the conversation to create a new way. To acknowledge who you are in order to give yourself to the expression of art in a new way.

Woodland Fairy costume

2013-05-08T13:11:00.000-07:00

I have found by unlocking one creative outlet, it frees up all sorts of other desires and small talents for other creativity to come out.

On top of writing all the time for a large wide of projects, I am crafting as well, and hopefully will have my first painting done in a couple days.

BUT...I had one very special project that I want to share with you!

In our house we have come to understand that every day for me is like playing dress up. Paul on the other hand thrives with themes and parties and like's having reasons to wear an actual costume. This paints a very bizarre picture of us, but it's not weird, I swear, at least most of the time.

The pure joy in this though? My kids get awesome homemade costumes! Paul really has been on the front end of this, since we had boys and I am still a beginner. He loves the construction behind a costume. He can go to a thrift store on 50% day and come away with all sorts of materials, then cut and glue and paint and all of a sudden, the boys are transformed into supehero's. It's awesome!

Well, I got my second shot this year for Little's 3rd birthday. We were going to transform her into a woodland fairy. (When she was 6 month's old, I made her a Raggedy Ann costume. She looked awesome, but the construction of the dress was horrible. I had to basically sew her into it.)

I had no idea how to make a woodland fairy costume. BUT...I knew how to make wings out of old wire hangers, and I had a handful of cardboard wands in my craft room that I knew I could paint. I just wasn't sure about the skirt.

So here are the photo's of the creation of my little Woodland Fairy. The T-shirt she is wearing is my old vintage T-shirt that says "Protect the Forrest." I cut it and make it to fit her since it was perfect!

I took two hangers and bent them to the shape I wanted. I duct taped the ends together to protect from the sharp parts.

You can use nylons or shear fabric, or whatever you have on hand and wrap it around the frame. Tie the material around the middle, glue it, tape it, whatever, just secure it and cut off the extra fabric.

I had feathers, jewels, fake flowers, glitter, moss, leaves, all sorts of things to glue to the wings. I also had knitting yarn that I braided to use for her straps.

My Woodland Fairy wings.

And her Woodland Fairy wand. I painted it and glued fun leaves and flowers on it.

The skirt I did backwards, so I am not including instructions because I will do it different and better next time, but what I wanted was a bunch of contrasting fabrics, based in cream with brown and green and pink thrown in. I needed pink in there, otherwise she wouldn't wear it. Her and I have differing opinions about color.

My mom was in town and I am SO THANKFUL she was. It wouldn't have been completed without her. We basically just kept sewing fabric on. We would drape it and say, "Looks good. Sew it on." We are very structured sewers. Can't you tell. I think this was 1am.

Here are a couple shots of the skirt.

And here is my Woodland Fairy. She is a little excited.

And when she spins, it flairs out all over. It's AWESOME!

So, I get it. She is only three, and this costume is a bit much. I think I enjoyed figuring out how to do it more than she ever will wearing it. So for me it was a creative expression and I learned a TON!

Sewing is fun.

So are cute little girls in a big drape skirt.

Personal update 2: the cabin

2013-05-06T19:00:00.001-07:00

The cabin.

The writing retreat.

I had hope that with more than 24 hours to myself, my laptop and journals and music, I could somehow process all the things going on inside of me for the last month and pour myself into the book. Read, journal, write, process, pray, seek, and be led by God.

I have never had time like this before to work and to be honest, I was a little nervous with that much time by myself.

Can't you tell?

I want to share some things I came away with from the weekend, but first, I want you to see what I saw. Here is my office set up.

This really was the perfect office. Curled up on a couch, writing and reading and candles lit. It was perfect.

This was my retreat view from where I sat. It hailed most of the day, but by late afternoon, I got to out and take a walk.

I enjoyed light food and lots of coffee all day long. I grazed, and when I was hungry, I ate, and yes I even drank coffee at 10 pm. There were no rules. The goal was to be inspired and find dreams and plans and words for the book. It was perfect! It was a day where I could go at a slower pace because I didn't have kids interrupting me every few minutes, or I wasn't restricted by a time frame surrounding naps or babysitters. I could just be.

And then I took a refreshing walk to get all the pent up energy out of my blood. I wanted to take this photo, because I stood in this spot for more than 15 minutes. I stood and looked at the road stretched out before me. I let the sounds of the lake and the country seep into my blood. Sounds that are foreign to us where we live. It felt like with every breath I took, more of the tension left my body, and more quietness and stillness entered it. All the expectations started to cease to exist and only listening to the Lord seemed to matter. I didn't want to move. I wanted to stay in that spot until the only thing that remained were the answers. But looking at the road ahead of me, I realized I wasn't sure where the road led, but only the way to find out was to take one step at a time.

After my walk, I spent the evening wrapped in a blanket on the porch enjoying my new office. A place full of peace and inspiration.

So here is what I learned and discovered with my weekend in the wood.

1. I really enjoy time by myself. I am good company.

2. You produce very different work when you aren't restricted by a time frame or deadline or children's needs. I had the ability to really let the work come out of me, instead of rushing it, or throwing a bunch of words on paper hoping it sticks. I could sit and ponder, and roll thoughts around my head and get the good stuff out on paper. It was this amazing experience no to be rushed, but let thoughts and ideas and words formulate.

3. I got to work on my business, the book, my talk at the end of the month up in Duluth, my talk in the NE this fall, and my business concepst. I had papers all over the floor with ideas and concepts and dreams and starting points for ministry. It was this really amazing brainstorming session where I got to share my dreams with God, lay them out in front of me, and as I sat and prayed, I got hints of more ways to make them become a reality.

4. It is scary as hell to sit there in a cabin, all alone, with the time you have been asking for to make the dream come true, even one that you don't fully understand, and you have no more excuses. I had no excuses. I had to face my fear of this dream, the overwhelmingness of it. I got to settle into those feelings. Experience them. I got to embrace it. Look at it. Evaluate it. And most importantly, work towards. it. It's easy to dream. It takes a lot to actually work for it.

5. The closer I drove to the cabin, the more peace I felt. While at the cabin, I felt inspired, I felt encouraged, I felt rested, I felt motivated, and I felt calm. I'll confess I even danced a little bit with the music blaring and it felt wonderful. I felt free. And the words just came out of me. I wrote a bunch of stuff I didn't even know I was thinking. I wrote it, I looked at it, and I pondered on it. I am excited to read what was going on in my head and my heart. To process it and explore it.

It makes me very excited for my future. As I said, I have felt like I am on the brink on something new and different. This weekend was this incredible time of exploring that. Of dreaming around it. Of finding clues to what my future holds.

And I can't wait to share it with you.

I also walked away from this weekend with a secret love affair for a weekend away alone in the woods. This may become my most spiritual exercise. I hope.

Personal update 1

2013-05-05T22:36:00.000-07:00

I don't know where to begin. So I'll just start and hope I finish where the story begins.

I remember two distinct times that I felt completely insecure which then led to total fear. The first time was in High School when the boy I had a crush on for a very long time told me he liked me. I know it sounds like that would be a dream come true, but the truth is, I had been living a double life up until about that time, and I was incredibly lost and broken and confused. I felt unworthy, and hypocritical and stupid and foolish and most like every bad teen movie. I was a cliche, which made it even worse. I didn't know who I was, so I spent years making every wrong choice to find the right one. I couldn't say yes to him because he didn't know the bad choices I had made. I was scared that he might see how lost I was. He thought I was great, and I didn't think I was. He saw good in me, and all I could see was the bad. I wasn't good enough. And so I said no.

Then I graduated High School and almost immediately moved away. Running scared of...myself, really.

The idea is the same when I got my first real speaking gig. I was to be the keynote speaker to 800 students my first time out. That was a big deal for me. And I was overcome with feelings of insecurity. I kept thinking, who am I that I was chosen for this role? They have this image of me that just doesn't feel true. If they really knew me, they wouldn't like me. They would have picked someone better. I am not good enough for this. Clearly I was still wrestling with self acceptance and fighting hard to make the right choices and be who I thought I was supposed to be. Still fearful to really lean into who I was. To say the things I really thought. To feel like being me was the best choice.

There are lots of things to say about my past and history and all these emotions, and I can't get into all of it here. But there are a couple things I want to pull out of these experiences.

First, the more we try to hide who we really are, the more disconnect there is. We create the two selves, the one every one sees, and the one no one sees. Then we have no one to blame but ourselves for no one really knowing who we are, because we don't trust them to know. This existence is lonely and sad and full of doubt and regret. Regret because you realize you are never really living your life.

Second, the only thing insecurity gives us is a life lived in fear. I am not sure where my insecurity came from, but I can attest to the life lived in fear. I used to be so afraid of everything. Afraid to take chances, afraid to say what was really on my mind, afraid of making a mistake that I couldn't come back from, afraid of just being me. I don't know why, and at this point, most of the time I don't care why. I do know I don't want to live that way. I desire to be brave and courageous and take chances and do things my way, instead of the way everyone else is doing it. It took me a long time to get to that point. A lot of prayer and hard work and conversations with my husband who has stuck by it all and loved me anyway.

I don't really live in a place of insecurity anymore. The fear creeps up every now and then when I am trying new projects or talks, but surrendering them and pushing through it comes easier.

That's why I can so easily recognize these feelings when they creep back in. They are huge red flags for me, because as I said, I generally like myself. I'm not insecure anymore, which is why this last month has been so overwhelming for me, and why I haven't written really about anything. (If you don't remember, the book campaign happened this month.)

To write about anything that has happened this past month, I must first confess to the gut wrenching truth. I must tell you that I am scared out of mind. I wish to be courageous and brave and fearless, but I'm not yet there.

Henry called me out on it very early on during the campaign to raise money for the book project. He would hear me self doubt and cut down and one day he interrupted me and said, "I never realized you were so insecure." My response was, "I'M NOT! What's wrong with me?"

Doing the campaign was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in recent years.

It may seem like my earlier experiences have nothing to do with this moment now in my life, but in actuality, it has everything to do with it. Except, this time, there was no mask or double life. See, the thing is I have made my career and my life to be as open as possible. After spending so much of life trying to be someone I wasn't or running from who I was, or whatever my problem was, I promised myself that no matter how hard it was to be truthful, to be vulnerable and open, I would try. Even if I was ashamed of how I dealt with something, or the way I felt, I would be honest. I would embrace everything about me and invite my audience into that space with me. I will often joke with Henry that when we take the stage together, I always come across as the big hot mess who needs counseling and he has it all together. But that’s who I am, and that is why people hire me. I am not two people anymore. It’s just me. But now that it’s just me, the vulnerability is even harder, because there is no hiding.

It may seem silly to you, but it was incredibly difficult to put together a campaign asking for money to support a book that my partner and I want to write. I wasn't asking for your help for Haiti. I wasn't asking you to support a child in need in a third world country. I wasn't asking for money for any noble cause. I was asking for myself.

That changes everything.

I had to publicly put myself out there and say, “Hey! Do you see me? Do you like me? Help me make a dream come true!” And that’s fine and great, until you realize you might not get the money.

Then what?

It’s like waiting to get picked for the kickball team all over again, except its just not your class that knows no one wants you, it would be everyone.

That month of the campaign had me praying for God to release this hold on my heart more than I can ever remember. I didn't want you all to have power over me. I only wanted to care about being obedient to God’s call in my life.

But the trick is, to be obedient to that, I needed the money, which meant I needed to pay attention to the campaign and ask. I had to put myself out there, over and over and ask for help. Ask you to believe in me.

And then you did.

But you didn't just give to meet the goal, we surpassed every goal we had and more money than we budgeted. I am still having a really hard time wrapping my head around that one. My heart was pounding a mile a minute the day we surpassed our goal. It wasn't a dream anymore, it was reality.

HOLY CRAP it is now a reality!

Now I can't run or hide or be lazy. You said you believed in me, in us, and now we get to do something amazing.

Have you ever felt like sometimes it easier to sit on your couch and dream of all the really cool things you could do, and in your imagination, you are awesome, talented, you don't screw up because you know exactly what you are doing, and you win everyone over because you're amazing? But because you know deep down, that really isn't reality. Reality looks like hard work and trying over and over and making mistakes and taking risks and lots of practice. And in the end, the risk that you might not even be very good at the thing that you dream of doing with your life.

I think that's why we sit on our couch. Our imagination version of ourselves could never compare to the reality of who we are. People who are risks takers, brave and courageous the people who don't leave life with regrets are the one's who kill and bury the dream version of themselves and instead, just live their life. They embrace their real self and go for it, leaving it all out on the table.

I have a tendency to be the couch sitter. But I am tired of that. I want to be a dreamer, a risk taker, a brave spirit with no regrets.

That's why I feel overwhelmed. Not by the to-do list, though it is extensive. I am trying to embrace a new reality and truth for myself. I am trying to forge a new way of really, truly embracing all of me, letting go of all false selves and live my dream.

I asked you to believe in me and you did. Can you even comprehend what that means for someone who spent so much time hiding away? Again, overwhelmed.

So many of you went out of your way to encourage me, say nice such kind words about my ministry and my dream. I didn't ask that of you, you volunteered it, willingly. Again, overwhelmed.

Even more of you said that by pursuing this dream, you felt inspired to want to do more with your dreams. That is HUGE! I am so humbled and honored to be apart of that process that God is doing in your life. Again, overwhelmed.

I sit on the brink of a new beginning to my ministry and our life. Something has shifted and changed in my career. I can't explain it fully, but I can tell, things are beginning, or shifting, or changing. I still am a little nervous, because I don't know what that means, but I know that God is in this with me, and my husband and my children.

Feeling this emotionally overwhelmed the last month has made it hard to process. So I went to a friends cabin for the weekend as a personal retreat.

That is part two of this story.

Stop Traffick

2013-04-30T19:49:00.001-07:00

I haven't written in a bit, and for me this is the perfect thing to come back with. I couldn't think of a more urgent issue than to address this one.

There is a dear friend of mine who is a well known national speaker and founder of HappyFunTime Industries that is writing and directing a short film called "Stop Traffick".

Wes and his team of people are cut from some of the highest quality of work you can find. His intelligence, his heart and his persistence for true interpretation is amazing to watch, because he balances it with humor, honesty and grace. It is a pleasure to call him a colleague.

When I saw that they were doing this project, I grew so excited for the prospect of what it means for this issue. For such a high quality product to be out there to draw attention to a very serious issue that I believe gets overlooked here in America. When I told Wes I wanted to blog about it, he sent me this info. Please, please, please check it out!

Did you know that over 100,000 American children are trafficked for sex. Or that the average age is 13? Human trafficking is an assault on our youth. But the tide is turning. And Wes and his team of Hollywood filmmakers are taking this problem seriously.

Here is what Wes has to say:

"We think the problem lies in ignorance. But we know that film is a powerful educator! We want to produce 'Stop Traffick,' a short film shot in Las Vegas, NV and Bakersfield, CA as it tells a startling story of trafficking... and HOPE... in America."

But this film, starring Stephen Baldwin (The Usual Suspects, Midnight Clear) and Lauren Sweetser (Winter's Bone), can't be made without our help. The next 7days of donations are critical to our mission of immediate intervention and education. Every hour and every dollar counts!

Go to Stop Traffick's Indiegogo site ( http://igg.me/at/StopTraffick ) to make your tax-deductible donation now. You can also learn more about Wes's partnerships with organizations that are on the front lines battling Human Trafficking. If you have any questions, feel free to email one of their producers at ron@happyfuntime.com. Your immediate donation matters...it will fuel a film that will help combat Human Trafficking… a problem we know can be solved in our lifetime!

Keep fighting the good fight!

After watching the video, if you were effected at all, PLEASE pass this blog along, re post it, tweet it, donate to it, blog about it, tell others. We are talking about real lives here. Lives trapped in slavery. Lives that matter. That is the key isn't it? The issue of the value of someone else's life. By donating even a small amount to this project, you give value to a young girls life. You tell her she is worth it. You tell her, that even if no one else see's her, you see her. You gave to change her life.

Please, check out this project, and give any little bit you can.

Thank you Wes and your team of people for giving a voice to this. For spending time and money away from your families to help in anyway possible bring a voice to these young women. We want to partner with you and give hope where there is none.

Thank you.

Inspiration breeds inspiration

2013-04-17T17:49:00.001-07:00

I had mentioned either here or in person how in our home we try to read scripture together every morning. We do that not because we feel we have to, or because this is what good Christian's do. Honestly we do it because of our philosophy of Big Picture Parenting. We believe that as our children leave our home every morning and attend school, we want the word of God in their heart. We want them to know scripture, to feel comfortable searching God's word for insight into his heart and to really know what God says about life and love. To really know God and not just what people say about him.

Then I went and had a play date with a friend of mine a couple months ago. As we were sitting in her kitchen, she had index cards covering her walls with scripture written on them. As I took a closer look, she had the first couple dozen chapters of Proverbs up.

I fell in love.

I asked her what was going on with all the proverbs posted on her wall and her response was, "I got the idea from you."

I had a look of total confusion. We have never done anything like this, so it didn't really feel like my idea. "I don't get it" was my response.

She told me that she appreciated how much we were trying to create a love of God and his word in our children. She said as her and her husband were trying to raise up their kids, they wanted God's wisdom strong in their mind and in their heart.

I Love it!!!

See, I pray for God's wisdom over my children almost as much as I cook their meals. These young boys and girl are faced with choices every day about who they are, who they are going to be, and what they stand for. Choices of fitting in, going along with the crowd, sticking up for the kid getting picked on, helping someone in need, it will never end. I want them filled with the knowledge of God's love and his desire for their life.

So instead of just praying wisdom over my kids, this felt like the perfect compliment to put it in their hearts.

The proverbs are also an easy way to find just a couple of verses to read in the morning. A couple verses read, then discussed leaves us with a perfect small 5-10 min devotion. It has sparked such great conversations and questions from the kids, and having them written down, on days when we don't have time for a new one, we can pick one off the door and read it again.

The other great benefit of having it written down and up where we can see all the time, is I can stop and read encouragement every time I need it.

The best part of all this...

I shared a desire of my heart and a small tradition that I do with my kids. Another mother took that idea and made it her own. I saw what she did and she inspired me to follow suit and take it another step further.

This is the best part of living life publicly The way our hearts, our desires, our traditions can inspire others and in turn, we can be inspired by them.

Thank you Jessica!

Social, ethical, parental responsiblity

2013-04-15T20:16:00.000-07:00

In times of crisis, I wish I had a medical degree. I wish I had the freedom to pick up and go to where help is needed. To comfort people in despair. To organize volunteers. To lift away debris and bring the hurting to help.

To work.

To help.

To love.

To be human.

But I can't.

There are people here in this house who desperately need me to survive. They need me here, and so I can't be there.

When tragedy strikes, and I hate to admit that most of the time it is news on main stream media that I hear due to my lack of media watching and listening, I can't seem to tear myself away.

Today was no different.

We don't turn the TV on, because seeing the images of blood streaking the Boston streets would only serve to put fear and anger in my children. And so I listened to the radio in the kitchen while I cooked. Even when it felt like too much, I had a sense that if I turned the radio off, I would be turning my blind eye or deaf ear to the situation. It felt wrong to leave the tragedy, when so many others couldn't.

And yet, you have to. Not forget I mean, but take a breather. Let it sink in. Allow the gravity of the situation to have it's rightful place.

In these moments I often wonder what my role is.

Where is my responsibility in this?

I think about my children sleeping in their beds right now. I think about how impressionable they are. I wonder on what their futures hold. What battles they will have to fight as young men and women.

I really hate to admit that I have lived a long time in "retreat" mentality. Pull away, live off the grid, stop all the media from being in my house, go simple, don't invest, it's too much out there, so I'll just live small in our own little world.

But really, all that means is that I escape all responsibility and I hide from being apart of the solution. What my greatest sin with that way of living, is teaching my children to do the same. When I don't engage, they will never know how.

As parents it is critical that we understand the importance of what our job is. If you have small children living in your home, then you understand the absolute power you have in your words and actions in shaping the minds and hearts of the young people who look up to you. The way we engage, or ignore problems. The words we use to describe hate crimes and those who hurt. The way we talk about different cultures and religions. Our words will directly shape the way our children see the world and the people in it.

Humans history is filled with wars and killings based on greed, power, selfishness and sickness. It won't ever go away. So how do we deal with that?

The only power I have right now, today in my circumstance is to raise up children who will desire to be apart of the solution, not the problem. To be helpers. To be supporters. To be advocates.

To give my children a language to communicate their thoughts and feelings, so that talking through problems is the first solution. To teach the power of communication, understanding, forgiveness, and compromise.

To install in my children a longing for justice and a heart for the wounded and hurt.

To equip them with the tools necessary to find solutions to problems.

To in every way possible, give them an acceptance of all people, without judgement so that they can see the man behind the culture, the religion, the uniform.

To talk about the scary things that happen in a space where it allows your children to voice their questions and concerns and worries and wonderings.

To give them your thoughtful observations and passion against evil.

Today felt overwhelming. The obvious tragedy brings with it a sense of hopelessness. After the hopelessness came the urgency in the awareness of the responsibility of raising my children.

Raising them to not run from the fight, but equipping them to be prepared for it.

In my opinion, Jesus hasn't shown up yet, so I would rather we were a family who actively cared about the solution, instead of pretending that all the problems don't exist.

We have a responsibility as parents. Our children are what we are giving to the world, to the next generation. They will inherit all of our mistakes and all that is wrong and right with our world. I will say it again, my greatest mistake will be not preparing them for that.

How does one move past the fear?

2013-04-10T15:10:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up to the sound of my son coming in to my room, hugging me and saying, "I am so glad you are alive mama. I am so glad you are alive!"

I looked at him and said, "Oh honey, of course I am alive. Is everything OK?"

That's when Big told me that last night they woke up to gun shots ringing in the front yard. They ran out to get Paul, thinking we were being attacked. Paul had already flipped the light switches off and was ducking down to see a group of teenagers breaking off in pairs from our front yard after shooting a couple rounds off into black sky. They clung to their dad hoping he could make it better. After calling the police, he tucked the kids back into bed and sang over them.

This morning, their fear for me and for them was all they could talk about. I was writing at the coffee shop like I do every Tuesday night. I wasn't home, and so in their young minds, I was at risk out there with the bad guys. They were out there and I was out there, not safely at home.

As each of my kids came into my room this morning, all hugging me tight, thankful for my safety, my heart physically hurt for how to help them navigate through this. I wasn't sure how to do that.

I can't give them promises that I will always be there for them. Because I won't.

I can't tell them that nothing bad will happen to me. Because I don't know.

So what can I give them?

First off, this is not a story of living in the hood. This story isn't shared to get you to feel bad for us. It's not a story to gain attention or have some weird twisted story to brag about. This story speaks to what we do with the fear our children have. All kids have a fear of something. Fear of fitting in. Fear of being embarrased. Fear of talking to strangers. Fear their parents will split up. Fear there is something wrong with them. So the question then is, what do you do with that fear?

Second, as parents, I think it is very tempting to use our status in our children's lives to turn into the ultimate power. If you have a wound, I will make it better. If someone hurt you, I will go take care of it. If you have a need, I will fill it. It is nice to be needed and have someone rely on you. To be the hero. The one who saves the day.

But in the end, what good does it do to have our children put all of their trust in us? In a human being who will fall short, mess up and disappoint them?

Paul and I have as much as possible, whenever possible, try to point our children to the one who will not fail them. To the one who will ultimately heal and help them. It is our goal as parents to teach our kids to reach out to God in times of trouble, pain and joy. This is not without trying our hardest to be there for our children, to help whenever it is right. But we can't desire to be their ultimate power in life.

So each morning, we try, at breakfast to institute, "Feed your body, feed your soul." This is a time where we read a few verses in the morning to make sure that the word of God is in our children's hearts. Lately, we have been reading through the proverbs. But this morning I knew it was different and we would need a different kind of comfort and healing. So we read Romans 8:31+

"What then shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

In reading this, it also brought to mind the verse that says, "perfect love drives out fear" which I think is 1 John.

God's love can drive out our fear and demons and insecurities.

I wanted my kids to walk away not living in fear. Not overcome with worry about who might get shot and killed in our yard. We are still trying to convince them that we won't die every time a thunderstorm hits in the middle of the night. Two years later, Big and Little will still crawl into our bed trembling that we will die when the thunder hits waking them up in the darkness of night.

It is my belief that fear, left in our heart will create a foothold for Satan to tear us down and keep us from thriving in life. When a small amount fear or doubt is left in your heart, the only thing it has the power to do is grow. It gains strength every time we experience something that reminds us of that fear. Then eventually, it will keep us fearful and unable to take chances, to trust, and to love.

So in this round about way, as parents, and just as people ourselves, the way to not live in fear is to cling to the one who has the power enough to love us out of the fearful place. To admit that fear. Surrender it. Lay it down. Give it over. Try to learn to trust a little bit more every day.

This morning we prayed after reading scripture together. We prayed that we could rest in God's love. We prayed that Satan wouldn't have a hold on our hearts in the fear we have about how scary the guns were. We prayed that God could create trust in our hearts. We prayed that his words we read would strengthen our faith and allow us live in HOPE that God, no matter what, will work all things to his glory.

We don't know what that means exactly. We don't really know what that looks like. I do know though that I could tell a difference in their smiles this morning. I am hoping that teaching them to give over their fear and worry and weakness, that they will start to cling on their own to a relationship with Christ.

He is much better savior than me.

And in the end, I have lived most of my life in fear. I would like to find a way to help my children live in love and courage by showing them how to surrender over the fear.

When you are weary of the battle

2013-04-08T19:18:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but I grow weary and tired of how hard it is to fight for what you want in life. To battle all the things that threaten to take away your values and priorities and hope.

Everything the last few days has grated on my emotions. Feelings that felt raw and ready to explode for reasons I couldn't figure out.

I knew I was tired.

I knew I felt worn down.

I knew I felt like I wanted to give up, sit on my couch, eat ice cream and pop corn and drink wine and iced coffee. Snuggle under a blanket and just read a silly book or watch TV all day.

I was tired of battling the kids, myself, our neighborhood, our budget, my time, the book...well everything, and I craved relief.

I wanted relief from all the intentionality that we try to live in.

I wanted a break from all the rules and guidelines.

When talking with Paul this afternoon about why, "Why are we so easily frustrated and cranky, and so ready to give up?" We realized it was because we are always fighting.

We are fighting for our kids faith in God. We battle to find the time to invest in devotions, conversations, intentional time dedicated to exploring faith and what it means to believe in God in their world today.

We are fighting for our marriage. We work hard on finding time to be together, trying to use communication that builds us up instead of tearing us down. We evaluate all the time, what do you need to be OK? How can I support you? How can I love you during this hard time? We are working hard on putting the needs of our spouse before our own. To see the love of your life through the eyes of Christ. To keep the spark alive. To turn young love into something deep and rich and powerful that still contains magic and spark.

We are fighting for our safety. How can we live in a place of trusting God to be enough and not living in fear, while still being safe in the choices we make? Not making judgements on the kids walking around our neighborhood. Not assuming that every person sitting in their car is there waiting on trouble, or that every person who knocks on our door is wanting to break in when we leave. Our families safety is always, constantly present first and foremost in our mind. We are always prepped for battle when it comes to our safety.

We are fighting for our money. Money has a way of just disappearing and we are fighting to keep ours. We are always aware of what we are spending, and fighting to keep money in our pocket so that we can be free from debt.

We are fighting for our own dream and for the dreams of our spouse. Paul and I are both filled with ambition and determination and our greatest desire is to fulfill God's desire for our life. It's hard in the mundane, every day chores and hurdles to fight for something bigger. Something grand. Something special that lives in your heart. You have everyday choices that you have to weigh against the grand scheme of things. This is one of the hardest things to fight for everyday.

When we intentionally live out our lives, it means we have evaluated and prayed and come to a set of standards of how we live our life. How do we spend our time, our money, our resources? Do these things hold up to the priorities and values that we live by?

But that also means that we just don't live caressly anymore. Everything we do at that point means something.

Most often however, if you have taken the time to evaluate your life and have decided to live by certain standards, those standards will grate against the lifestyles around you. When that happens, what do you do?

We have a choice to give up on our standards and value of living, or we fight.

We try to have a family meeting every week so that we can take stock of our resources and time and money as we evaluate all the options that we face every week that want our time, our money and our energy.

And so we choose to fight.

But you can't fight every moment of every day. Some days, when the battle becomes too much and it tears down your spirit, you need to take a break. You need to sit and pray and release control back to the creator who loves you. You need to remember that God is still God and we are just one person in one moment in time.

And so we surrendered. Not to our ideals and priorities, but to the God in charge of those ideals and priorities. And in that surrender, it gives us strength to keep fighting.

1 whine =1 penny

2013-04-03T12:31:00.000-07:00

I HATE Whining.

When I say that, I mean it feels worse to me than the fingernails on a chalk board phrase.

I HATE whining. And my kids do it. All. The. Time.

That's when I asked myself, "What would Bill Cosby do?"

What's funny is I have found myself asking that question a lot with my kids getting older. I grew up on the Cosby show and they had such inventive, creative ways of dealing with their kids. So what would Bill do?

Well, I am not sure that this is what they would do, but it got my creative juices flowing.

After so much whining and then so many frustrated "pleas" from mom about "stop whining", Paul and I got together, and decided we needed a plan.

We called a family meeting and discussed our two current issues that needed correction.

Whining and Disobedience.

We sat the kids down and prayed first. Praying has its all calming power to refocus everyone and get us all on the same page. As much as 2, 5, and 7 year old can be on a page.

We talked about how we wanted them to succeed and we talked about how much they were probably really tired of being corrected by mom and dad. We wanted to create a way to help them and remind them about the things that come out of their mouth.

Then we brought the Bible out and read a few verses about honoring God with our words and whining.

Are you communicating with a self-controlled voice? (that NEVER happens here!)

How does God want you to communicate?

Titus 2:12 says, "Whining is an ungodly form of communication. God wants you to use self control, even with our voice."

Also check out, Proverbs 25:28, Galatians 5:22-23, Ephesians 4:29, 2 Peter 1:5-8. These helped us point our kids to WHY we ask them for certain behavior.

Then came the idea.

The kids will get 10 pennies each morning. (This idea actually came from the Bernstein Bears when Sister Bear was biting her nails. Apparently, Paul and I are incapable of creating our own inventive parenting techniques. We just steal from imaginary families.) Every time they whine, they have to put a penny in the jar. We went and got an old canning jar, and asked the kids what we should their money should go towards. We decided to make it the "Car Repair Jar".

So every time the kids whine, we save money for the next time our car is in the shop. This will never amount to much, but we really liked the idea. I had middle make a sign for the jar, (forget pinterest and all their fancy Martha Stewart like ideas, we just use scrap paper and markers. We are old school, its cheaper.) The next day we went to the bank to get a whole stash of pennies.

The kids were super excited because they started counting how many days they needed to be extra good to get a whole $1. It lasted a day. The second day, each kid lost four pennies. At one point, Little looked at me, knowingly complained and whined about lunch while she marched right into her room and got two pennies to put in the jar as she finished her whining. I laughed right out loud at her. Wrong move I know, but I couldn't help it.

So here we are... the jar is filling up. We don't argue as much about whining. They whine. We say, put a penny in the jar. If they whine about putting a penny in the jar, that will cost you 2 pennies. They have figured out that if they boldly say, "someone else is whining!" they also put a penny in the jar.

It may sound silly or over the top, but did I tell you how much I can't stand whining? This seems to be working. Even Little now will catch herself, stop, and say what she wants to say instead of the old habit of IMMEDIATELY turning up the half cry/half baby talk to communicate what she wants. I would say that is progress.

We tell our kids, we understand that whining will happen. What we want from you is for this NOT to be your first choice of communication.

But you know the thing about intentional parenting and communication and discipline?

If you aren't consistent, it doesn't work.

There have been a few times that Paul and I have looked at each other and said, "We just gave ourselves one more thing to manage and think about. If we don't stay on top of this, then it won't work." And yes that is true.

And though we still whine here in this house, because we are normal people who struggle to learn good habits, it is slowing working. And every few days, or at least once a week, we ask the kids, why do we have a "NO WHINE" jar? We want them to know its not just about how annoying it is, but that God desires better from us. We can glorify him and honor others with the way we communicate. That is why we do this. (And it drives me nuts.)

And we raised $1.15 for our next car repair!!!!!

I don't which is harder, teaching our kids good habits or saving for the next time our car breaks down.

Who I am instead of who I want to be

2013-04-02T10:28:00.001-07:00

I called up a friend the other day, one whom I haven't spoken to in awhile and we were casually chatting. As with any conversation it was basic and going through the routines.

How is life? The kids? School? The job hunt? On and on and on.

It was fine.

It was comfortable.

It was socially normal and expected.

Then she asked about the book.

So a couple things went through my mind. The first thing I said was,

"It's fine. It's going good. Hard to write and find the time."

And with all those things being truthful, I still wasn't revealing the true matter on my heart.

I was scared and spending far too much time caring about what other people thought. I was worried that people won't like it, or they won't support it. I hadn't prayed over it in awhile and had taken total control of the matter back in my own hands.

I know my friend would understand this truth. I know she would pray with me and encourage me. That wasn't the issue.

The truth is, I didn't want the be the girl who was struggling. I didn't want to be the girl who had slipped in her faith and started to do it all on her own. I didn't want to be the girl who had to learn a lesson, who after years of overcoming her insecurity, was feeling more insecure than ever before.

I wanted to be the girl who was doing it right. Who didn't fall into temptation of making this book about me. I wanted to be the girl who surrendered her will to God every morning, prayed without ceasing over her work, created good habits to make it happen and could do it all. Doesn't that sound great? It sounds like a wonderful story of great faith and spiritual leading. I wanted that story. I wanted to for once in my life do it the right way.

But that wasn't what was happening.

And so, in a moment of feeling brave and wanting to be honest, I said what was true. I decided not to be who I wanted to be, but who I really was instead.

"The book is going well, but I have noticed lately that I am far too scared about what others think. My mind seems overrun with thoughts of feeling less than I am. I am scared that someone else could do it better. I worry that it will fail. I get nervous thinking about how others will value the quality."

There.

I had said it out loud. The dark things that were crowding my brain. The hard things that were taking away my faith. After I say them out loud, I have to own that they are true.

To this, my friend encouraged me in my dream. She filled my heart with kind and encouraging words. And then she said, "You need to read the book of Joshua. Joshua is filled with courage and trusting God, and that is what you are doing. You are doing something courageous and your ability to trust in God is the only thing that will carry you through. Read Joshua and find comfort and truth in what you are doing."

All my tension and worry went away.

This, right here, is why we are writing a book.

This is what the book is about.

In the midst of even our struggle and weak faith, and total control issues, God is still present and working. When we are capable of taking off our expectations and ideals, and can be real with the people around us, God's truth becomes clear. Friends, mentors, blogs, pastors, scripture, podcast, whatever and whenever you find it, truth can be revealed.

I was reminded that day to be honest. It does no one any good to pretend to be something they are not. My honesty encouraged my friend, and she was able to encourage me as well. She spoke encouragement and pointed me toward truth to heal my wound, my insecurity, and my weakness.

If I haven't told you yet here, I am telling you now.

My friend Henry and I are writing a book about stories. Stories we live every day that hold deep spiritual truths. These stories are used in communicating about our faith with others. These stores enrich and encourage others. These stories point towards heaven. These stories bring heaven to earth. They nurture love and forgiveness and God's ultimate power and goodness. There is power in the stories we live here on earth.

We would love to share this project with you. Henry and I are interested in making this a community project. If you are interested in pre ordering this book and supporting the writing process, please donate to our campaign at http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/more-than-a-story/x/2561912.

If you are interested in knowing more about the project after the funds are raised, during the writing project, please visit our website www.pearabull.com or like us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mightier-Press/301285753332675?ref=hl

I am excited about this book. I am also really excited about all the ways is shaping my heart and creating a deeper trust in him in regards to all the stories of my life. Thank you for being apart of this journey. Thank you for showing up and walking through life with us.

Be blessed friends.

The thing we don't talk about

2013-03-21T15:30:00.001-07:00

Why don't we talk about sex?

I mean married people, why don't we talk about sex?

Especially sex after children.

I am convinced that we could fill books with horror stories about the times we accidentally walked in on our parents doing it and now we are just waiting for the day it happens to us. Or all the ways we have to maneuver "quality time" with our spouse while our children watch TV, sleep, play outside, or even while having dinner. I mean when five minutes presents itself, you just have to take it.

I had a friend tell me one time that her children wanted to know what her and her husband were doing in there for so long.

She told them they were jumping on the bed.

I remember how I felt right after we had each of our three children. I had someone in my personal space every minute of every day. I was holding someone, someone was pulling on my leg, someone was breastfeeding, and the worst was following me into the bathroom. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE MY CHILDREN. I don't wish them away from me, I desire for them to draw close to me. But I would be lying if I said 5 minutes to myself didn't sound like heaven. (OK...10 min, maybe more.) But someone was ALWAYS touching me. Did I make that clear?

ALWAYS. TOUCHING. ME. And it would drive me insane.

Then my husband would give me that look, and please forgive me, but really, when he wanted to snuggle close and get "reconnected" it just felt like one more person in my personal space. And the really sad part is, I really like getting "reconnected". My husband is the sexiest man I know, and even more, he is immensely generous and good to me. I love him.

But right after children, it felt like his greatest gift to me was leaving me alone and letting me sleep.

One time in the midst of being busy and having lots of things to do, and lots of lists to keep track of all that I had to do, my husband gently looked at me and said, "How do I get on the To Do list?"

After having children, finding the time to have sex is like a big strategic game of "Chess". Every move you make effects the next 12 moves of the game. If I wash the dishes for her and sweep the floor then she will be in a better mood. If I read to the kids now, they will play nice after, which means I can get dinner done on time, which will put us on schedule for bedtime if I can keep one kid from terrorizing their brother. If my spouse puts the kids to bed, then I can get supper cleaned up which will help put her in the mood, and then maybe, if there is any shred of energy left after wrestling the kids to sleep, we can have "Marriage counseling". (That's our code word here. We figure if an apple a day keeps the doctor away, then time in the bedroom, or closet or bathroom or wherever the kids won't find you, keeps the therapist away. So far our form of Marriage Counseling is working.)

If you are the parent of small children, you would be lying if this has never happened to you. Maybe it doesn't happen all the time, but it has happened. Just own it.

With children around, your youthful body and energy is used on the little people running wild in your home. You become a machine that cleans and cooks and drives to doctor appointments and school plays and activities. You are the farmer, financial planner, cook, counselor, doctor, lawyer, and community activity director. Even in the midst of simplifying life, children have needs. Your home has needs. People need to eat and they need clothes to wear, and they need somewhere to sleep. They need time to talk with you about issues they are having with friends and school work. Devotions need prepped, and quality time is a priority for the family. You give more than 100% each day, and still it's not enough.

But what about the two of you? The parents who are in charge of it all and struggle to keep their eyes open past 9pm. I don't know about you, but most of the time I collapse into bed still in my clothes. I feel guilty and promise to be better about it tomorrow.

How can we find time to reconnect when everything at life is pulling at you and winning. We give and give and give and after you are covered in food, wearing the same clothes three days in a row, how in the world are you supposed to feel sexy and want to "reconnect"? Seriously, why can't sweats be a turn on? Then I am trying to remember that I am a woman first instead of a mom, let alone a wife.

It feels like a cruel joke.

Paul and I have been through many different phases in our marriage where this special time comes easy, and when it's difficult to make it happen. There are times when the stars align and we find we have energy to invest in this part of our marriage. Then there are the times when we barricade our door, pretend we don't hear the kids yelling at each other, convinced they will figure it out, and hope against hope we can stay in the mood.

Marriage with young kids is hard. The demands and questions and decisions you have to make fly at you faster than you can even register what's happening. You live in a place of being reactive instead of proactive, let alone intentional about "quality reconnect time".

Everything about this subject is tricky. Even writing about it is tricky. You have desire meets reality, love vs. responsibility, expectations creating miscommunication.

Paul and I have found that the only way to navigate through these risky waters is to keep talking about it. We have to keep talking through our mis guided signals. Our miscommunication. Our exhaustion. Our need. Our hurt. Our desire.

This very specific part of our marriage is a key to its success. It keeps us connected. It keeps us attracted and interested in one another. It keeps our desire and love for one another strong. But it has also hurt each other. We have unintentionally wounded each other with our tired rejection, or our words that weren't meant to hurt, but they did.

But to create a thriving marriage, we have to keep talking about it. Every time our life changes, the rules change, and we have to take the time to talk with one another about how to make time for sex in the new stage of life.

So carry on dear warriors, fighting for your relationship. Making your marriage a priority. Connecting and communicating with your partner. It's more than hard work, it's constant, every changing, reevaluating work.

But it is so worth it.

Even if the only five minutes you can find, finds you in the closet with the door locked.

Feeling exposed and scared out of my mind

2013-03-20T21:53:00.000-07:00

It's easy to build self confidence and contentment in the privacy of your own home. I have done that for years now. No one to really see the cracks in your defense system. You can almost pretend they don't exist.

It's terrifying to put yourself out there and wonder.

Will people like me?

How harsh will the judgements be?

I put myself out there when I speak, when I write, when I invite you in to share this life with me.

I have built my career on being authentic and real and transparent, but recently, those limits are getting tested in changing waters.

I never realized how vulnerable it would feel to ask people to support you. To walk alongside you and say, "I want your dream to come true!"

Because...well...what if they don't? What if they were just being nice?

The reality is, I only have a voice because of you. I could write blog after blog, but if no one reads it, then it isn't serving its purpose.

I could write a brilliant faith evoking message, but if no one shows up, then it can't bear fruit.

And I could write a wonderful book full of stories that point toward kingdom living, but if no one buys it, then my ministry lays dormant. My ministry only exists because there is an audience.

The deep secret fear that seems to be coming up in full force lately is, "What if nobody cares? What if no one is listening? What if people will think its stupid?" And the big one for me is, "What if nobody likes me?"

What does that say about me and my ministry if people don't want to stand behind it?

For the last few years all of my speaking gigs have been lived out where I have felt most comfortable. My families high need diet being my excuse to not stretch too far outside my comfort zone when it comes to my career.

But here I am now, writing new material. Searching and preparing for gigs I have never done.

And now I am writing a book. Yup, I am going to do it and write a book.

This is all new territory.

It's scary as hell. Can I say that?

I feel exposed. I feel terrified. I feel insecure which I haven't felt in years and I don't know what to do with all those feelings.

What if you don't want my book?

What if it's all just a bad idea and I should go back to simply living. (Not living simple, that is something all together very different.)

To say "it's hard to put yourself out there" is a statement that doesn't quite convey the risk you take in taking a chance.

You put your dreams and hard work out there for others to experience, and the goal is to share Christ through it all. But its risky to invite you in. There was a beautiful TED talk that explored the gift of asking. You can watch it here.

But what if no one is listening?

(If you want to know more about the book, I'm waiting for the promo video to come out and then will invite you all into the project. I would love the company!)

Hope and Despair

2013-03-19T12:45:00.000-07:00

I have to laugh that for all the grief I give my husband about a painting that hangs over our couch in our home, I am actually including it in a blog.

A few years ago, my husbands best friend had a desire to add "artist/painter" to his list of many talents. He had decided long ago that if he were to ever become a painter, it would start with a large black canvas that had one small white dot on it. To mock modern art, he would call it "Hope and Despair". It communicates that no matter how small the evidence of hope may seem, it does change the landscape. The despair is not untouched.

When our friend turned 40, Paul commissioned him to start his dream, and paint on the largest canvas we could afford. For days he came to paint. Lots of pepsi and wine got drank, and the dream became a reality. I was in full support of my husband trying to help make dreams come true, till I was told that in order to be a true work of art, it is commissioned by someone and hung in their home. So here it sits, in our home, a big black wall of canvas, reminding us that dreams do come true.

Hope and Despair

When I was driving down our street the other day, I saw this...

It is a large Chalkboard with the painted letters, "Before I die..." I got really distracted by it and wanted to check it out, so I pulled over and walked right up to it so I could read what people were writing. This is what I saw.

Amongst the desires for fame you also find hope to know God, hope to end the pain, hope to find love, hope to truly find oneself. It was simply beautiful.

Here, in my hood where we are frequently on the news for destruction, anger, stealing, killing, rape and fires, I found this. A long list of hopes and dreams that people have for their future, even in the midst of the despair, hope can be found no matter how small.

I saw a big black canvas written all over with white paint.

Hope is not lost. Even in the midst of all of the despair, hope can be found. We can't survive without it. People here have big dreams of finding love and God and repairing what is broken. Amazing things happen when we work together towards that dream.

Today I felt like it is well with my soul.

Hope has not been lost.

When faced with death

2013-03-09T06:04:00.000-08:00

My thoughts are jumbled and my emotions are tied in knots. Fear, sadness, anxiety, hurt, justice, peace and anger all rage war to be the emotion that claims victory over my heart.

I have been in one other waiting room in my life where the patient faced possible death. I sat with an 18 year old girl in the summer between High School and College when she was supposed to be believe that all things were possible. I sat there with her and thought, "Her mom is going to come out of this. They always say there is a chance of death, but it never really happens."

Then the doctor came out, took this young girls hand, and had to tell her that her mother passed. They couldn't save her. She was now alone. Her father died three years earlier, and now, there, on that day, she lost her mother and was alone. Completely alone. I understood at that moment the phrase, "the world stopped. It stops for just a moment." It's true. In that moment, the world around you ceases to exists and its like someone hit a pause button. You pray, you cry deeply with EVERY fiber of your being that you heard them wrong. Please God, tell them to take it back. You wonder if you heard wrong, because you know that in that moment the earth stood still for you. That moment happened eight years ago, but I remember it, I can close my eyes and feel like it was yesterday.

Last week I joined my entire family down in Houston because my cousin Ryan was having life threatening, high risk surgery. They were removing his lung and tumor, and only one doctor in the country would even attempt this procedure. If you would like to know more about his condition and story, he is an avid blogger and beautiful writer. You can read about here www.nobodyfightsalone.com.

Here is a picture of Ryan at his Cycle for a Cure.

I won't recount his story for you here, but I will tell you my perspective. I had been home eight hours after speaking at a conference all weekend and Little and I were headed to the airport to fly down to Houston to join all of my family in support of Ryan, his wife Andrea and their two small boys. My focus had been on work, prepping sitters for the kids, food and the new book launch. I came home, spent a few precious hours with my family and then Lu and I left. When you have a 2 year old, flying is a big adventure, and so you play games, sing songs and generally live moment to moment. Paul had told me before I left, "I am concerned that you haven't processed exactly what you are walking into down in Houston." I ignored him, knowing he was right, but not wanting to dwell too much on it.

See part of the reason we were down in Houston was to say good bye. Ryan had less than a 5% chance of surviving this surgery, and so according to statistics, this would be the last time we saw him. But of course you are hoping, praying, and hoping again that you are really there to help with his recovery. To be there with his wife and parents and kids. To give your support. But in the back of your head, in the dark place you don't want to say out loud because if you say it out loud, God forbid it might come true. We were there to say good bye.

When Little and I got there we were hugging our family, saying our hello's, thankful for the opportunity to see them, and yet, knowing why we were there. The joy of seeing them was followed by an immediate heavy feeling of the possibility of death. Emotions were raw. We were all holding tightly onto our thoughts and feelings not wanting to reveal what we were thinking or feeling. The goal was to stay positive and create one last night of wonderful memories with all of us together.

The night before the surgery we all gathered for dinner and celebrated Ryan's wife birthday. It really was great to see everyone, we don't all live close to one another so this was a rare occurrence. After the meal was over, the emotions shifted. The energy in the room changed. I turned in my chair and saw Ryan sitting quietly in his chair, tears threatening to fall. My first reaction was hard a blow because I have never once seen him falter in his positive attitude towards fighting this cancer. Now I understand that I don't live with him and there is no way that he could be positive every moment of every day, but as a dedicated reader of his blog, I know that he chooses to be positive as much as he possibly can. Seeing the reality of what he was choosing to do, seeing his humanity in that moment brought all the emotions I was trying to avoid come flooding into my heart.

Ryan was choosing this surgery to give him the best chance of living cancer free. But the risks were incredibly great. The risk of death was high, and in that case, he would be leaving a wife, a three year old and a 9 month old son. Two children who, if he died, eventually would have no memories of their father. He had to choose a surgery that meant, he was in truth, saying I can die at this moment and I will accept that.

I watched him in that chair trying not to loose his emotions. He was surrounded by his family and I would assume was feeling the weight of his choice and potentially his last night with everyone.

How does one even comprehend those emotions and choices? I found I was hugging my daughter harder that night. I kept thinking how incredibly brave and courageous he was that night to willing make that choice so that he could against the odds, live a longer life with his family. He was so brave, and full of courage, and I would assume, so alone in that moment. Completely and utterly alone in his thoughts and emotions. Even surrounded by the people who know and love him the most, no one could imagine what he was going through. He was alone in thoughts. He was alone in feelings.

And my heart broke for him. My heart broke for his family. I hated sin in that moment. I really hated it. Call me ignorant, or simple minded, and maybe my faith is simplistic, but I don't get angry at God in those moments. In the moments of complete and utter fear of the circumstances around me. I get angry at the fact that sin is apart of our world. That we invited in. That we have to live with our consequences on this earth until we are made perfect in eternity.

Please hear me, I am not saying that because of Ryan's sin, God gave him cancer. I am NOT saying that. What I am saying, is that we live in a sinful world full of brokenness, disease, death, and tragedy. No one is untouched by it, and just because you are a child of God, doesn't give you a get out of jail free card to pain. We are all touched by and live in a sinful place.

And maybe the reason you could call my faith simplistic is because I have personally been untouched by tragedy. Those closest to me have been inflicted with much pain and disease and tragedy, so I am not a stranger to it. I don't ever view God as a bystander, just watching horrible events take place. I never wonder where he is, or question why he doesn't stop tragedy from our lives. I guess I have always understood that he can't stop it for everyone. If he stopped death, disease, and tragedy from everyone, than we would be in heaven. I also understand and have experienced the peace and healing and life giving relationship with God that comes out of such pain and hurt. I have seen redemption be born out total darkness. I have witnessed the body of God raise up to their calling and help and be responsible for those who have been broken. It is the most beautiful thing to behold, watching God's children living as God intended by loving others in their pain. Experiencing them sacrificing themselves for others. We don't get those beautiful moments of joy and depth without the pain.

Would I rather see Ryan completely healed and healthy and free of pain. Of course I would. I would choose that. But God is doing something with this story. He is working in Ryan's life. He is bringing healing and he is raising up the body of God around him. There is redemption happening there.

So in my moment of feeling his loneliness, with a lifetime of memories of my cousin, and complete awareness of his choice, all my tears threaten to fall. I didn't just want to cry, I wanted to sob and cry out and let the emotions take over so I could feel the depth of them, and then let them go. I went to him, kissed him on the cheek and told him I loved him. I had no words of wisdom and nothing profound to say. What I wanted him to know is that his life mattered and changed me.

Then I walked out with my daughter and my dad and sobbed. The unflattering cry where tears mix with snot and your whole face is wet and red. I just allowed myself to feel for him, for the hurt of so many others who have been touched by uncontrollable pain. That night all our hearts were heavy.

How do you live in a reality of something dark and scary, but try to hold onto a little bit of hope? Those emotions are so conflicting with one another, its hard to let either one win out. You don't want to hope so much that the reality will be hard to accept. And you can't let go of any glimpse of hope, because living becomes impossible.

So it brings me back to the waiting room the next day. I had nice conversations with uncles and aunts and cousins. I played games with Little. And the whole time, even though there might be faint smiles on our faces, we were all just waiting. Waiting for the bad news, hoping for the good news.

We were told to go back to the hotel because his surgery started later than expected and they didn't need us all there. That's where we were when we got the news that the surgery went very well and Ryan was in recovery. My grandmother is the only one who cried out in joy and wept. We sat there. Completely shocked. At least I was. I couldn't believe how much I was prepared for the bad news. My own history had prepared me for the worst, but the worst didn't come that day. We immediately came together and prayed our thanksgiving to God and then I wept. It was a miracle. There really is no other option. It was a miracle.

We are all guaranteed death. We will all in some way experience pain and hardship and tragedy. The hard days will come, and maybe they are even already here. I am a believer that God is still good even in these moments. I have to believe that. And I was prepared for that.

But we got life that day. Ryan got life that day. His boys got their dad that day. His wife got her husband that day. His mom kept her son that day.

And postponing the tragedy just a little bit felt good.

It felt good to celebrate life, even just for a little bit longer till the next hard thing.

Thank you Lord.

We can't lose hope

2013-03-05T20:21:00.001-08:00

We live on the wrong side of the tracks.

We also live on the wrong side of the bridge.

And on the wrong side of the river.

If people are familiar with Minneapolis, then they usually ask, "Where do you live?" Our response is, "We live in North" the nickname and location of living on the wrong side of...well...everything.

And their look is always the same. One of fear, sadness, pity. That is the most common response. One I was used to when I would tell people I lived near Detroit. I've been getting that look my whole life. Now there are some who love North Mpls. Just like in any urban dwelling there are friends and neighbors who love to create an urban/hipster/artist/liberal/earth conscious environment in the city. We would fall into that category. But eventually, every person who lives in an urban setting, and one that is known for its long history of crime and abuse, needs to ask,

How long can I live here and still be safe?

As I sit here and write at 2pm in the afternoon, a dear friend of ours is fixing our back door because our home was broken into for the fifth time. And yes, we do have a security system. We got that after our house was cleaned out 10 years ago at Christmas and vandalized to a disturbing degree. With the system in place, we have had four more assaults. (And this is just the personal attacks, whereas our neighborhood is a place of high activity for random shootings, murders, robberies and rape. And by neighborhood, I mean our street and back alley. It is a normal occurrence for friends at parities of ours to come away with some sort of ghetto hood tale to retell when they leave.) I hesitate to write this because 1. It makes me feel like the girl in an abusive relationship who doesn't know when to leave because she finds an excuse after every attack to stay. Or 2. We will have even more people joining the campaign to tell us to leave. I understand, we should move, but truly, I don't want to hear it. That isn't what this post is about. And I don't want you to feel sorry for us. Everyone has struggles in their life, and currently, our neighborhood is ours. This isn't a contest to see how scary and sketchy our hood is compared to yours, its just our reality. Simple.

When we first moved into our home there was a host of friends who lived in the hood. There was talk about how it was a hard place to live, but everyone had hope that it would it would get better. Slowly, friends were moving away because the crime was hitting closer and closer to home. And yet, we have remained. People have slowly been giving up hope that anything will change in North. That no matter how many young families move in and improve their home, make a life for themselves, they will eventually get scared off and move away. The others that stay can't afford to leave and so they hunker down in their homes and don't participate in the improvement of the hood. That was our neighbors story for 30 years, until the tornado came and claimed their house, forcing them to leave.

Five years ago the Lowry Bridge got shut down for repairs and then eventually was blown up to be replaced by a beautiful bridge that was stronger and sturdier than before. The Lowry bridge is one of the main veins that runs from North Mpls to NE Mpls. Before the bridge went down, NE Mpls was considered the crime epicenter of our area. After the bridge went down, it got locked down and concentrated in North. Crime has since remained and flourished where we live, whereas, NE has become the "New It" place to be. It's been interesting to watch the transformation of NE Mpls and how the art scene has exploded there. Old buildings have turned into art warehouses, co-ops have started, small creative consignments shops have started, coffee shops and local cafe's decorate dozens of corners. Tourists visit Uptown Mpls, locals who know the inside tract hang out in NE, and many are too afraid to come to North.

You can tell that locals here are excited and anticipating the shift of culture for North. They are hoping that with the bridge opening, which it did this last fall, that the good things that are happening in NE will make its way into our little area. The warehouse district is also spreading closer and closer to our area. We are only two miles from downtown and the warehouse district is the "New It" place to live. So on the other side of the bridge is the New place to be, and the other side of the Highway is the New place to live. Old buildings are being resurrected. Art and co-ops and small business are popping up all over. New life is being breathed into the areas surrounding us, and we wonder,

Can it infiltrate, or will it just compound and lock the crime into our hood?

Two years ago our neighborhood was hit by a tornado. Though it sounds terrible, and in the moment it was, it has given a face lift to home after home in our area. For 18 months what was a war zone has turned into a mosaic of beautiful homes. In my mind, this can only serve to help North siders feel proud of our little hood. However, we get nervous to hope. To hope that things can turn around. To hope that our little hood in Mpls could be a safe place to be after hoping for more than 10 years.

Last summer was the hardest on our family. Crime has slowly moved closer and closer to our home. A few years back a girl was murdered in front of our home on the corner. Two summers ago, I was trampled down by the S.W.A.T. team breaking down our neighbors door looking for stolen weapons. Last spring while making breakfast we watched the police throw smoke bombs in the home across the alley from us and bring out 5 hostages. But last summer, in the middle of the night, gunshots and bullets rang out in our backyard and alley. It brings on a whole new dimension when your husband dives over your body to protect you from stray bullets. It's when I truly felt scared for the first time. Things shifted for me then.

How long can you hold out hope that things will change? 10 years ago things were supposed to be looking better for North Mpls, and yet, to me it just feels like it has gotten worse. Everywhere I turn in my neighborhood there are bars on the windows, gates on the doors, graffiti on the walls and garbage on the street. So many homes are boarded up and abandoned. When I drive my kids to school passing business after business gated to protect themselves, I think, what do my children see? How do I explain to my children that our home got broken into...again... without inflicting fear in them? How do I create a safe place for them, when our safe place has been robbed? When the evidence of vandalism is all over our broken back door? How do I reassure them that they are OK, when I am not even sure I believe it myself.

Today I realized how often my spirit is ready for battle. I live in a neighborhood where before I leave the house now, EVERY time I leave the house, I need to brace our backdoor with a 2x4 wood beam. I need to be on guard to keep my family safe, while at the same time resting in trust that God is bigger than our fear.

I want to hope that things are going to be better where I live. I want to hope that I could feel safe in my home. Right now my spirit is uneasy as I look at our open drawers that were rummaged through and my bed that was moved around by men who robbed us. My personal space was invaded again. Strangers were looking and tearing through our stuff. And somehow I become distanced from that because, well, its happened before.

This whole post is jumbled in thoughts. It is fearful and somewhat hopeful that all the good things happening around us could finally come and be apart of us in our neighborhood instead of always just being slightly out of reach. We live in this confusing place of protecting ourselves, but trying to let go and trust. Looking over our shoulders waiting for the next attack, but trying not to let fear dictate everything we do. And finally raising children who see God's goodness in everything.

Living in the hood felt very personal today, and somehow I had let my guard down. I want to only see the good things happening around us. The parkway coming to our street, all the community gardens, the park parties. But I'm not gonna lie, lately, all I see are the bars on the windows and the drug deals happening in the cars in front of our house. My heart is heavy with the lack of hope I felt today.

When you start to feel hopeless, you realize how important hope is. We need to have hope. We need to be able to believe. Believe that God is still good. Believe that people can choose love instead of hate. Believe that people can change. Hope that sin and hurt won't overtake a city.

When the kids and I talked about the break in today, we prayed for the young men who broke into our home. And I guess that is what I am asking from you. We as a family need your prayers. Prayers to head God's direction for our lives. Prayers for my children that we as a family can talk about this, but that they won't live in fear. Prayers that Paul and I can help our children understand. Prayers that hatred and bitterness would not claim our hearts and home. Prayers that we won't loose hope. But prayers especially for the young men and women, not only in North but all over the world that choose hatred and anger, and retaliation for the hurt they are struggling with. Hatred breeds hatred. Those that choose to hurt others are deeply hurt themselves, and need our prayers.

Close friends and family asked me today how I was doing. They showed concern and I am so thankful for them. I guess this post is my response. A jumbled, confusing, scattered response. But that is how I feel right now. Jumbled. Confused. Scattered.

Update: Sometimes I forget how far these posts go. Sometimes I write because I need to process what is happening in our lives, and I forget that there are hundreds of you reading it. Thank you so much for the outpouring of love that you showed me in the last 12 hours. Thank you for your prayers, and your kind words. Thank you to my friend who showed up today at my door to visit with me over coffee. I love being apart of the Church. The church that lives in the hearts and soul of the people I am honored to call friends and for those I have never met face to face but pray for us anyway. I want you to know that God has used you all to encourage me and find strength in my trust in our Lord.

There is so much I love about where we live, and it was never my intent to degrade North Mpls. What I will do is give an honest opinion about the fact that here, in this urban setting, we have the gift of daily surrendering our control to God. We are taught and challenged to trust. We don't sit comfortably and safe in our home, but many times I see that as a gift. Yesterday I just didn't want the gift. I also want to say that we never moved here to this neighborhood to do "ministry". We do however believe in living as Christ like examples wherever we are, wherever we live, wherever we work. So we try to shine brightly here. And when the time comes and we are able to move, we would like to venture a bit more out into the country. But even if we still decided to move today, we would remain here until our home sold and all was in order, which means we still live in a tension of fear and trust.

Thank you for being being with us. For loving us and for walking through life with us.