Lessons from Spain (and other European countries): Ministry Happens in a Bar

I have a new friend who is sassy.  She's also brilliant, sensitive, wise, and discerning, humble and modest, and a fantastic listener.  She is British, 100%, as in, her parents are English, she was born in England, and so that makes her an Englishwoman.  Ryan kisses the back of her hand every time he sees her and addresses her as "Princess."  And she's a girl totally, madly, deeply in love with her Savior.  She is teaching me so very much.

Being from the other side of the Pond, she also likes Scotch, or Bourbon, or Gin, or one of those drinks men who are 60 or older sip in smoky wood paneled clubs with leaded glass windows where Englishmen meet amongst walls lined with leather bound books and trophy deer heads from plaid clad weekends on the hillsides of Europe.

This very statement made some readers wonder if my friend is really even a Christian...seriously, raise your hand if your remember Jesus' first miracle.

Anyway, being a SAHCMFTBIA (Stay At Home Caucasian Mom From The Burbs In America), I've never really embraced my ethnicity one way or another.  Just this morning I had to fill out a form and check the vanilla boring nondescript box labeled, "Caucasian."  Before I was married I at least told people how my maiden name means, "Bible" in German and then I'd break out into "Stille Nacht" or count to 10 in German just to show I still had a little in me.

Since meeting my new British friend, my eyes have been opened a tad more to faith in other parts of the world.  Oh, I've been on missions and studied missions and have traveled for both ministry and pleasure in several parts of the world.  And I know from both studying and travels about major world religions, as well as how Christianity differs from culture to culture, and how cultures differ due to religious influence.

But a few months ago while I sipped a glass of red and my British friend her drink of choice, pouring our hearts out to one another about everything under the sun, she told me how, from living in America for 30+ years, American Christianity and European Christianity vary greatly...

...not in the Message of God's love for mankind, but in the cultural message, which often muddles the Everlasting Message profanely.

In Europe, at least in Britain, she said the Pub on the corner is where people talk about love and life and ups and downs, you know, kind of like a "small group."  It's not demonized as a place to just get drunk, like "Spring Break '89", but rather a place to open up and share life.  It's like, oh, could we say, church.

A forbidden fruit mentality has been fostered in this nation for 100's of years, setting up bars and alcohol as something to be pursued in anything other than moderation, putting an age on it as if that makes a person mature and responsible, and slapping a party mentality on it.

The funny thing is, over the last year or so I've spent quite a bit of time with women who have reached out, seeking an ear, belly up to a bar.  Women who have been hit by their husband, others controlled "Sleeping With the Enemy" style, divorced, separated, suffocating in loveless marriages, some just crying out to be loved by their workaholic husbands, not the men they originally had fallen in love with...women pouring out their hearts over their dreams for their children, their fears, their own personal dreams and aspirations, and the brokenness of their realities.

And we cry, and stop, and pray, right there, belly up, holding hands, eyes closed, seeking God's direction and healing in every situation.


My dad asked me why I couldn't just go to Village Inn, instead...

...ummmm, gross, I just barfed a little typing "Village Inn".  

I'm not trying to fit a conventional ideal of what a woman who loves God with her whole heart and also happens to be in ministry, looks like.  And, I'm also not trying to shock anyone just for shock value.

I'm actually quite tired of the banter and pleasing and grieved to my core of all the talk ABOUT so many other THINGS within Evangelical "Christianity" rather than THE ONE THING, the only true thing, which is:

God is totally and completely in love with you.  That's all.

I don't go to Village Inn because it's gross.  I don't even think I'll choose VI when I'm 89.  If a woman asked me to meet there because she wanted to pour her heart into mine, to see if I'd be a listening ear, then of course I'd go to Village Inn...to listen to her heart.

But that's not where these amazing women have asked me to meet them.  They have asked me to meet them at bars, for a drink, where we can just talk.  Can "talking" happen anywhere else?  Duh.

But if I am to embrace my heritage, then I'm guessing some of my Irish, Scotch, German, Swiss, French, and English ancestors likely had church in Pubs, way back when, across the Pond.  And I'd venture to guess their hard-working lives were more authentic and vulnerable than the facades of perfectionism Evangelical "Christianity" has set up here in the "New Country."

And if I'm to truly embrace what it means to lay down my life and follow Christ, to allow my life to be a source of His love poured out, in spite of me, then I also need to embrace the beauty that sometimes women's ministry happens in a bar.

More "Lessons from Spain"

I tell you what…if finding out I was pregnant after a trip to Spain was a way to learn things such as, the sky is the limit, throw caution to the wind, live life to the fullest, OR, say, the opposite, like, be careful, look both ways when crossing the street, always bring an umbrella, well, then the last week has been good for me, in a hellish sort of way.

The age I would be at time of delivery. (Graffiti in Barcelona)

And by “good for me” I mean, “Holy Ship My Pants, Batman!”  Please know, I don’t mean this disrespectfully.  I know, KNOW, know many women who have longed to be mama’s in their life time’s…some never experiencing it, others having only gotten to treasure it for a short time, some never getting to hear their sweet babies cry, or meeting their child face to face.  I, too, have had 2 miscarriages and lost a yummy sweet boy sooner than I ever imagined possible.  I am not discounting these longings, whatsoever.

Translation:  Do not let your dog ship its pants here in this public space.

But I won’t lie when I tell you that for the last few days I have had irregular breathing patterns thinking about the “what if’s” if I were, indeed, pregnant.  And I won’t lie.  Those days were dark in my head and heart. 

Last night as I fell into bed I told my husband I didn’t even need to lower myself down, I simply collapsed under my own body weight.  Still not having shed all my “Viva Espana” weight, then getting PMS like nobody’s business (I NEVER have it, NEVER, no cramps, no tenderness, nada), I was sure we were in for a surprise, and not like, “Ooooh, awesome!”, but more like, “Holy Ship My Pants-ness, Ryan’s going to be a big brother?! #$%^&*.”

I named off two friends I’d consider giving our baby to, since they are looking to adopt.  My heart was heaving and not thrilled at the thought…at all. 

What can I say?  Yes, I celebrate and love children, but these are the real thoughts that went through my head and heart.  I’m sure you’ve never thought this.  Clearly, I suck more than you.

Before I drifted off, however, I told Jason, “If it’s a girl, I’m naming her Georgie.”

This morning I looked at my calendar, counted days, tried to remember what I was thinking or if I had been thinking and, HOLY SHIP MY PANTS, were we even thinking?  I rolled out of bed, pulled up my bootstraps, and actually smiled at the new found peace that had settled into my heart over night. 

“Georgie…totally.  We’ll name her Georgie, and maybe her middle name will be Madrid or Barcelona.” 

I headed into what is usually one of my favorite days of the week:  LAAAAAAA!  Thursday.  My day.  A day where Ryan hangs with our fabulous babysitter and I head to the library, word-nerd heaven, where I sit amongst books and thoughts and dreams to read and write and enjoy the quiet.

First stop, the coffee shop for something with almond milk, “to-go”.  Second stop before setting up my portable office at the library:  the ladies room.

(The following is a text conversation)

A:  “You’re lucky…”

J:  “That made me laugh.”

A:  “I’m glad my bleeding uterus is funny to you. I almost shipped my pants with worry!”

A:  “But, the name Georgie for a little girl IS fabulous!”

A:  “Maybe it’ll be my pen name…hmmm, yes!”

J:  “Your pen name should be Georgie or Bleeding Uterus?”

A:  “Probably Bleeding Uterus.  It’s raw, catchy, authentic…”

I’m not sure I’ll use “Georgie” or “Bleeding Uterus” or something else entirely as a pen name, but I do know this:  I will always write vulnerably and with authenticity, because this particular lesson from Spain is:  life doesn’t always turn out as we plan, but I already know from experience, it can be more beautiful than we ever imagined.

*And, a couple bonus “Lessons from Spain:” menses symptoms are greatly affected by how clean one eats.  It was a reminder, and a heck of a way to re-learn this, but my body tells me things and I need to listen.  Moderation.  And, make that appointment...

Foods that contribute to monthly bloating, mood swings, and cramps: amazing churros from Barcelona

A picture my husband said I'd never post since it's not flattering...I don't know what's not flattering about eating an entire crab by yourself, soaked in butter, but arrrrrr, I love crab!  Living it up, eating without regrets/symptoms in Espana.

Laguardia, Espana, aka, Wine Country, being kissed by my prince on top of a castle...*alcohol, another contributor to monthly swings.

More on the food tour: constipation and bloating,  I mean ice cream and molten chocolate cake with some sort of awesomeness on the side... 

Reminder, Adrienne:  you feel healthy when you eat healthily

So, no.  There is no Georgie Madrid Graves on the way.  The only baby we brought home from Spain is this Spanish Mater.  #vivaespana

Fear Has No Future

Jason and I celebrated 20 years of marriage in June, but since January, we've been dreaming and planning out the details for a trip to Spain, just the two of us.  We have spent hours and hours looking through books, reading reviews, mapping out our adventures, talking about it on date nights, road trips, in bed at night.

The destination and trip itself will be awesome, no doubt, but dreaming and anticipating have been part of the fun, as well.

Picture from AskFranciso

Except for the part where we realized it was about time to write out a Will and Trust...that part took the spark out of the trip, at least for me, for a good week.  My sinuses were clogged and swollen from crying, imagining not being the ones to raise our children, these gifts God loves more, but has graciously entrusted to us to love, nurture, and fan to flame the awesomeness God placed within each of them...

...and I almost cancelled.

"Sweetheart, we can just get a hotel downtown for the weekend..."  Forget the part that I've dreamed of going to Spain ever since I was in college when Profesora Calderon first sparked my romance with the language and country.  Forget about how we were going to do this trip for our 15th but then Jason lost his job and we knew it probably wasn't financially wise to travel on "credit."

I have come to terms, as I have for years, but clearly needed a reminder, that God knows the number of our days.  It doesn't do me or anyone else any good to live in fear of the "what if's?"

There is no freedom in fear, nor is there a future.  I knew a 90-something year old who harbored many fears...sure, in years, she lived a long life, but she was crippled by her fears, not experiencing what freedom in God's love has to offer in a full life.

I have spent many hours praying and pleading, asking God to be gracious to our family and reunite us again to continue to live out the purpose He has for us on this earth...and I trust Him and have peace this will be the case...

So, do I hope to relax, sleep a little longer, go on 24-hour dates for two weeks straight with my husband, in a beautiful country, surrounded by people God created, all rich with stories, experience the smells, sights, make new memories, and see pretty much the whole countryside of Spain?  Yeah.  I do. And I'll miss my kids like crazy, wondering what they are doing at such and such a time.

But this is good for my marriage, a celebration of friendship and love and thankfulness, and it will be good.

If this were my last post, on this blog, ever, not just my last post prior to leaving for our trip to Spain, I'd want to leave the world with this:

God is totally, completely, 100% in love with you.  Don't try to understand it, just accept it.  Please stop looking around at all that is wrong in the world, in yourself, and everyone else.  Instead, find the good and as you do, allow your eyes to be turned upward to look at The One who made you, to see it as an expression of His love to a broken world.  He knows you intimately, has good in store, like deep down heart-good, and He sees a bigger picture which your head and heart are now allowed to contain at this time.  He loves you.  Love begets love...not war, back-biting, gossip, slander, politics, isolationism, competition, or elitism, nor pride or self-seeking. Love begets love, and God. Is. Love. He is love and is in love with you, totally, completely, 100%.

That's all...

(*We may blog from Spain, but the #loneviajera won't be alone...watch for it, and for a super fun blog by this girl, one of our date nights in Barcelona...)

10 Things I Hate About Me

I just thought of that title so, either this list will be a piece of cake and I'll need to make a part 2 and 3, or I will need to make some stuff up.

1. My upper arms.
2. My bent towards inconsistency.
3. How my self-worth is so closely knit with 10 lbs of fat and whether I eat "clean"or not...or not.
4. My eternal optimism for everyone else, but inability to offer it to myself.
5. How I can treat the people I love the very most with complacency when I feel fat and failure-ish because I eat a carb instead of not.
6. My unrelenting desire to make peace between others but my inability to make peace with myself.
7. The fact that I could even write a list like this.
8. That I am an isolationist when I don't have my shit in order.
9. How I will believe the best about you to a fault, even if you actually suck as a person.
10. #3 and #6

A couple of weeks ago I sat on the floor in my closet and cried.  I hadn't tripped trying to change my clothes, hitting my head on the dresser or wall or anything.  It wasn't due to a physical injury.  I was crying because I'm messed up.  I was crying out to God.  "How can my worth be so intrinsically connected to the fat on my body?!?!  I don't want to be this shallow!  I know You designed me to matter so WHY can't I break free from this endless battle that rages in my head and heart?  Why can't I just eat clean and be done with this friggin' 'journey'?????"

On Mother's Day my daughter gave me a poem she had been working on for a couple of months.  Here it is, written exactly as she did:

why i love you mom

you are funny

you love me more than stars in the sky

you comfort me when I'm sad

I can talk to you about anything

you are fun to hang out with

you would do anything for me

you care for me

you're compassionate

you're creative

you're loving

you have a good sense of humor

you're talented

you can find good in anything

you have a awesome sense in fashion

andddd you're awesome!!!!!!!!!!

you know me so well

mom, these are some the reasons i love you

Emily

I've never let Emily know how much I'm not a fan of myself.  I'm a good liar...except I'm actually known for totally sucking at lying.  I can't do it.  I have never said, "I'm fat or ugly or I don't like myself" in front of her.  But she's not stupid, in fact, she's quite brilliant.  And like I said, I suck at lying, so I know I'm not pulling the wool over her eyes.

This is NOT the legacy I want to leave...

So, on Tuesday I'm headed to see a counselor who specializes in Eating Disorders.

Because the things she loves about me are there deep down inside and they matter and they are the things I know make up my true beauty.  And I actually do believe these things about myself, the "beauty" my daughter sees, but what I believe in my head just hasn't quite made it to my heart and I think I need someone to help me get there...

Sing Your Heart Out!

I may get passionate about some things.  Don't get me wrong, it's great that Beyonce has a voice and she uses it.  We need to use the gifts we've been given...I just think she and the rest of her posse could have accomplished the goal of singing a few great songs with their clothes on, that's all...if that was the goal?  Em thought they could have used some more clothes, too...

So, imagine if the reason you sang songs was for a greater purpose.

Say, like a purpose other than receiving all the praise and glory for yourself...profound, huh?

Imagine being wired in such a way that songs just came naturally to you, you were gifted with the ability to write them, the music to accompany them, and then share the songs with others, enabling people to convey what only their hearts and heads think and feel but are unable to express.

I am no song writer but I know a few awesome ones.  I won't lie.  I can't even sing.  BUT, when some people like my friend, Todd Ballard, make music, the songs are able to express my heart, and I believe that is a powerful gift.

Photo courtesy www.toddballard.com

Jason and I have known Todd for 6 1/2 years now.  In fact, he and his awesome wife weren't afraid to get to know us while we were holed up as a family at Children's Hospital for Noah's short life.  We had met them a couple of times prior to Noah being born, but what blows my mind is Todd and his wife took the time to get to know us and bless our lives by getting into the thick of hospital visits with us.

Situations like that show the true character of a man.

Todd even gathered his band together and led us all in worshiping the Lord at Noah's funeral.  Jason and I were and are so very grateful for that memory.

Anyway, Todd's the real deal and he sings not for himself or to stroke his own ego.  He sings because he's totally in love with the Lord and wants to share that love and experience with hearts that are willing.  Every time I have the chance to worship while he's leading, I literally feel like I'm in God's presence, without any distractions.  It's awesome!

So, I just wanted to encourage you, if you want some new music in your life that points your eyes and heart to God's face rather than your day to day circumstance, Todd's album is being released today.   

I have it in my car already and Ryan and I sing our hearts out as we cruise around town!  Spread the word and go download yours, too, if you want some awesome new worship!

A Letter to my Friend...

...or you, but either way, I wanted to share:

Hey friend!  I'm sorry you are wrestling right now, though I'm not, because wrestling w/self and God aren't the worst things in the world...it means He is there to wrestle with...and that's good, even when it sucks.

God never "comes and goes."  He is always.  He remains.  We are the only ones who wain.  And it's okay to be tired, but that also shows you are "trying" instead of "being."  God wants you to be....wants you to rest in Him...lean into Him...trust He is good...His love for you is not performance based...those are lies of American Church culture, not a relationship with Jesus Christ.

Here's the thing:  in the Garden, the greatest deception wasn't just getting those guys to eat an apple and have their eyes opened to see good and evil...the deception which has remained since that day is the Devil's victory to take our hearts and minds to a place where instead of knowing beyond all doubt that God is good and great and loving all the time, we wonder if He really is...because bad things happen or because our lives don't look like we planned or because we don't always feel His presence or hear His voice clearly or know the next step to take.  So, what could be a deep rooted peace beyond all comprehension, even in the midst of life and personal hell here on earth, is tangled in a web of trying to behave a certain way, do good things, and convincing ourselves that He is a good God who loves us, when in fact, that is Who He is...always and forever.

He already said He loves us.  He already established that truth when He designed us in His image and wanted to hang out with us.

When the Bible says that Satan has a time or dominion here on the earth for a season, I believe it has everything to do with the battle going on over each and every one of us, the battle to keep us believing God is out to get us and is a conditional God...he twists the truth to keep us living in fear, but it's his own fear he's projecting on us...does this make sense?  Because Satan knows his time is short...

We weren't designed to be perfect, though we were made in the image of a perfect God.  We were designed to simply be with Him...to be His friends...to live in fellowship and relationship, not isolation.  I'm speaking to myself as I'm coming out of a season of isolation and loneliness where little pieces of my heart were dark and hidden, hidden because I believed the lies he was telling me that I had to be perfect, you know, because everyone else is perfect, obviously...

Every. Single. Story. in the Bible is about an imperfect person, rough on the edges, who did great things or lived by faith, not of their own amazingness or perfection but because of who God was in them, in spite of them, calling them to simply trust that He may know what He's doing on a bigger scale.

I love you and am so very grateful God has reunited us at this time in our lives.  He's been placing you on my heart a lot lately, maybe because we are similar in many ways or maybe just because you are a wonderful woman to love...either way, I'm praying for you, friend, as only an imperfect friend can do...

Loving yourself is a one day at a time thing...sometimes one hour at a time...I'm walking it, too.

Following God does carry responsibility...I often feel like I've failed Him on so many levels and on a daily basis b/c I haven't saved every. single. person. in my neighborhood or city or state, or the southwest region of the USA, or the Lower 48...etc, etc.  There are days where I think more about my ruined garden, dirty toilet, if I ate too many pistachios, or what to make for dinner than changing the world or living a selfless life.

We all suck at life.  At least when we weigh ourselves against the world's standards on any given topic.  There will always be someone smarter, richer, more generous, more selfless, more compassionate, more relatable, wiser, more thoughtful, etc, etc.  Does that mean we suck entirely?  Nope.  We don't suck entirely.  We make mistakes.  We say we are sorry.  We take responsibility for our own actions, stop blaming others or comparing ourselves to others, and we pick ourselves up and keep on going one foot in front of the other...trusting God will lead us...if we seek Him.  We have to seek Him to find Him, but He said we'd find Him if we indeed seek Him...


Friend, He made you on purpose for a purpose...not some pie in the sky purpose you'll one day wake up and see and be able to boast in, but a day to day walk carried out in simplicity, not defined by the standards of the world but shaped and designed by the very Creator of the Universe to be stealthy and filled with His love to those around you...and His love for you.  Big love.

Anyway, sorry this is haphazard and random...just some thoughts God put on my heart for you today.  I sure love you and am grateful for your life!  I know you have a lot on your plate right now...just know you are in my prayers and I am here for you whenever I'm not sleeping ;)  Just kidding!  I totally love you!  xoxox

The Age of Aquarius

There are people who check their astrology chart or reading every day.  They are seeking insight, direction, wisdom, and encouragement, among a slew of other things...

Imagine this:  an intimate consult for the past, present and future, with the One who knows EVERY. SINGLE. THING. EVER.

No crystal ball necessary.  Not even the palm of your hand or an article from a long lost loved one.  No fees.  Just free advice and direction.  EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

Just you and the Creator of the Whole Universe, sitting face to face, you quietly listening while He is ever telling you how much He loves you, His plans for you, telling you stories of old and giving you glimpses of hope for the future...one He is fully aware of, one He can handle despite our own chaos.

As far as the palm reading goes, He says we are engraved on the palm of His hand.  You don't even need a hand!  So that's literally good if yours has been cut off or if you were born without one. 

Has your kid ever come home from school with marker or pen written all over their hand to remember something?  Well, guess what?!  God's Sharpie really is permanent!

He remembers you because HE made you.  And He thinks you're totally awesome!  For REALS!

And those constellations that are strung together in the beautiful, black, dark night, what about those?  Do they direct us, guide us, show us the way?  Well, long ago before there was electricity, when the nights were actually dark and the stars were bright, they were hung there for direction, but physical direction, like God's version of your GPS.  And, clearly they did have meaning because some star studiers were well aware when a new, bright star appeared the night the Savior of the World was born.  The knew what it meant and they were wise to seek out the One it proclaimed.  They headed that direction, the way their "GPS" told them to go.

I get cranky when people say, "God is silent.  He just isn't really saying anything."

This is a load of CRAP.  God is constantly speaking to us through His Word.  Open your Bible.  The past, present, and future is in there.  You may not see the specifics of whether you should work at this location or move to that state or if that guy is the one you should marry.  But, the wisdom is there.  And the One who gives the wisdom is the Author.

Get to know Him. 

Why seek the faulty insight of humans through horoscopes and other venues when you can go straight to the Source, the very One who designed you, the One who knows you by name, Created you ON PURPOSE, and has beauty in store every time He thinks of you?

Trekking Around the World

Remember this?

It's been a while.  I wouldn't expect you to, but I sure do.  One night, 5 years ago last November, we had gotten some yummy Chinese take-out and were sitting in Noah's room at The Children's Hospital.  As we finished up and started cracking open our fortune cookies, I grabbed one and said, "This one's for Noah."  If you can see in the picture, that's medical tape, the kind that used to keep tubes and crap attached to my sweet boy.  We used it for other things, as you can see.

At the time I remember thinking, "Oh how great it would be if You would heal Noah, God, and we could go all over the world (a lifetime dream of mine) and tell everyone of Your faithfulness, love and power."  This was my initial response to reading, "You will step on the soil of many countries."

It's because I had seen myself with a grown son...remember?  And so I naturally thought it was Noah...since he was my only son at the time and all.  And Noah did step on the soil of many countries, so to speak, just not physically with his two sweet little feet.  His blog hit every continent before he died, but that wasn't quite what I had been thinking...

Well, fast forward 5 years.  This post isn't about Noah.  It's about how my heart leaps out of my chest every time I see pictures of a sweet mama and her boy, so very much in love, who are on a journey.  It's about how I can't get them out of my mind, not because I want to, but because God continues to put them on my heart, all throughout the day.

I have mentioned him here before, but I'm asking you not to turn away.  I KNOW reading about a kid that is dying is nothing less than gut-wrenching.  It's HARD.  It SUCKS.  It's a volume of books filled with descriptive words that can't really describe the heartache.  I freaking GET IT!  It's why hundreds stopped reading my blog after Noah died.  I understand.  It's not as fun as Pinterest or Facebook or a hundred million other things.

But I'm literally begging you to let your heart pray for Jarrett, Chelsea, Peyton, Conner and Trek, as they set off on a journey of living life to the fullest, one day at a time.

You see, someone close to them contacted me to pray for them...she had read Noah's blog and couldn't stop thinking about some of the similarities.


Here is where my heart is wrecked.  We never wanted Noah to be stuck in a hospital bed his whole freaking life.  That was never our dream for him...but because of a whole hellofalotta reasons, we were stuck.  There were days I dreamed of stealing him out of the hospital and taking him home...but we couldn't because we didn't have home health care at the time.  It was a big mess.  The closest I got to showing him the world was this...whoopdefreakingdo!


Anyway, Chelsea's heart is living out what I wished I could have done with Noah. 


Am I living vicariously through them?  Only the freedom part...I lived all the rest already.

Either way, my heart is crying out for them to RUN, PLAY, LAUGH, CRY, REST, STARE, LISTEN, SING, NUGGLE, SMOOCH, HOLD ON and LET GO all at once. 


I pray for God's love to fill every corner of their lives with such fullness that this time in their lives will ever be etched in their hearts.


I hate what they are going through but if I had it to do over, which I don't wish for, but if I could go back, I'd run like hell out of that hospital and live whatever amount of time I had with my boy, free from the beeps and meds and tubes and tests and pokes and drugs and smells and unknowns. 


I'd run.

I don't despise what we went through, I do have to say, because 5 years later, I'm grateful to at least have the perspective that life is short.  It's time to live, today, right now, to the fullest.  Time and the people in our lives are literally gifts from God for our joy. 


It's time you, or someone you know, stop holding back.


Hug tighter.


Kiss longer.


Stare at your children.


Laugh your ass off.


Play on the floor with your kids.


Tell your husband you love him.

Tell him you are sorry.


Hold hands.


Turn off your freaking television.  Hell, throw the damn thing away.


Forgive.

Stop caring what others think of you.

Trust God sees the bigger picture.  Relinquish the control you think you need to have.


Smile.

Listen.

Play.

Dream.


Live in wonder.

Baby Trek Atlas may not physically touch the soil of many countries in his short life time, but the way he's living with his big brothers and mommy and daddy who adore him...well, he's experiencing more love than many do in a lifetime.  And, if you spend some time reading his mama's blog, I would venture to guess he'll have you looking around, wondering what matters, and making a few changes and tweaks to what is important. 

That's Trek, a 9.5 month old, teaching us a thing or two.  That's him stepping on the soil of many countries...

Life is short.  How will you spend it?

Some thoughts on Secrets

I wanted to share my heart about an encounter I had last Friday with a person I've held a, well, really, really big grudge towards for 5 and 1/2 years.

I don't feel like writing it twice, so here it is. 

If you are of the persuasion that the little secrets you hide deep in your heart, you know the dirty little ones that don't hurt anyone else, are actual secrets, I'd challenge you to think again.

God knows everything.  Literally.  Every.  Thing.

So, if there's a secret locked up in your life that is holding you back from being all you were intended to be, well, let's just say God knows about it and He's not keen on things holding you back from living a full life that glorifies Him. 

First He gently nudges us to expose it ourselves.  Initially.  This is always a better route.  But seeing as how the human race is just a tad stubborn, at least my own private sector, who in their right mind would expose our own imperfections or faults willingly?

A few more nudges.  Some hints.  And then sometimes God just plops us in a situation where we have to face it.  A place that calls a spade a spade, and if we're open to it, and repentant, admitting our sin, He forgives.

God knows.  And He is faithful to allow us to go through our crap in order to take part in the good stuff.

And by "Busy" I mean...

This guy keeps me on my toes. He's napping now which has allowed me this brief moment to post a few pics and random thoughts.

This is his cupboard.

See.  He actually sleeps in there.  Kidding, kidding!  But it is his cupboard where, if he's not reading a book, throwing the dog her ball, trying to climb the stairs and walking around things, he's pulling out the unbreakable contents of this designated cupboard.

This drawer, the napkin drawer, and by "napkin" I mean 500, was not a designated drawer...except we hadn't put the latch on it yet, so Ryan found it and designated it napkin party central!

These are actually Jason's shooting ear pluggy cover thingamaboppers, but Emily likes to put them on once in a while to drown out "background noise" aka, her little brother...Ryan just likes to put them on to look like a recording artist...or Bob the Builder...

When my little lover is contained in his booster chair, I'm able to breathe deep for the brief amount of time it takes for him to snarf down his food before he's onto the next adventure.

I can't imagine life without him!  I am so grateful God has allowed us the life we have lived thus far, the good, bad and ugly, in order to have met the kids we have, the one we don't anymore, and to gain the perspective that even in the day to day mundane, there is beauty, laughter, and meaning.

Okay, except that wasn't what I was going to post :)  But I'll leave it at that.  Grateful.  Thankful.  Busy but with good stuff.  Finding joy in the day to day.  Asking God to lead me by His Spirit so I'm not just doing things to do them or to please others, but to glorify God and walk in obedience to Him.   

Yeah, that...

Saying Goodbye

It's not something you ever really get used to.  Specifically I mean, saying "Goodbye" for good.  And by "for good" I mean until we meet again in God's presence, but who knows when that might be?

I get emails from friends, friends of friends, family, strangers, many different people who share a link to either a story, blog or email about a little kid who is sick or dying.  I knew when Noah was in the hospital that he most certainly wasn't the first sick kid on earth and unfortunately would not be the last.  And I don't mind receiving these emails at all!  Though my heart breaks for them, knowing I can pray for the families helps me even on my own journey.

Weeks leading up to our decision to take him off life support and offer him as a gift to God, I was also made aware that we weren't the first parents, nor were we the last, to be placed in such a situation.

But, it's not something you ever really get used to, even if it's something with which you are familiar.

I have a girlfriend who has a non-profit organization, offering perinatal hospice care and support to families who have received a fatal diagnosis for their sweet baby.  Because of support she had leading up to the delivery, moments together, and tender time of saying "Goodbye" when her daughter was born, she is able to encourage others on their journey...but, it's not something you ever really get used to just because you have experienced it.

Today I received an email about a little boy who was removed from his ventilator earlier this afternoon.  His parents are brave.  They are strong.  And at the same time they are holding onto that last moment for a miraculous intervention this side of Heaven.  And, all at the same time, their hearts are juggling a million emotions of peace in knowing their boy won't suffer any longer, grief because life didn't turn out the way they had hoped, dreamed or planned, anger because if they had control of the Universe they'd most certainly change the outcome of their biggest nightmare.

At least I am guessing that's what's going on in their hearts, among other things.  I don't know because I am not them, and even though I've walked a very similar road, saying "Goodbye" is not something you ever really get used to...

Prayers for his family and for their hearts to know that even though his footprint on earth was small and too short for our liking, it's his heartprint that will last a lifetime.  Either way, whether we can see the hope in it or not, it doesn't mean it doesn't suck and that it's ever easier to say "Goodbye."

Saying "Goodbye" isn't something any of us should ever get used to. 

I'm not so sure, though, that there's anything we should ever get too used to...because when we do, even though there's a level of comfort, it can teeter between "familiar" and "taken for granted."

My point is this:  life is precious, the first breaths, the final moments, and every day in between. 

No such thing as a secret...

"Who are you God, because You are turning out to be so much different than I imagined? Where are you God, 'cause I am finding life to be so much harder than I had planned? You know that I'm afraid to ask these questions...but You know they are there. And if You know my heart the way that I believe You do, then know that I believe in You...

But still I have these questions...like:

• How could You, God? How could You be so good and strong and make a world that can be so painful?
• Where were You, God? I know You had to be right there. I know You never turned Your head.

You know that I am confused by all this mystery. You know I get afraid. But if You know my heart as completely as I trust You do...oh You know that I am trusting You."

- Steven Curtis Chapman from his new album "Beauty Will Rise", song "Questions".

I have many soap boxes, I'm not going to lie. Anyone who knows me, or who has even read here long, knows I am passionate about many things, like "Not blowing sunshine" and especially "There is no such thing as a secret". When I say, "no such thing as a secret", I don't mean a surprise meant to be kept, like a birthday treat or special occasion, but in the true sense of the word: secret or hidden.

I am a middle child. Growing up this was beneficial in that I'd watch my big and little sisters do something that got them into trouble and then, one, either avoid it, or two, do the exact same thing, just secretly. Why? Because I wanted to portray an idea of perfection to my parents...you know, because parents think their kids are perfect, right? And, I didn't want to disappoint them.

One doozer of a lie I told my parents was when my friend Katie and I were driving on a dirt road one summer up at Glen Lake in Michigan (one of the most beautiful places on earth). I was totally screwing around trying to fish tail. This would have been fine if I had actually known HOW to fish tail...but I was a city girl and gravel roads were few and far between. As a result, we smacked into a tree and sat there, just kind of staring at each other. The very first thought was not, "Oh crap! I screwed up the bumper!" Instead it was, "Oh man! What on earth am I going to tell my parents so I don't get busted?!" (I know...shocking, right?!)

We took the long way home around the lake so we could work on a lie. I didn't even cry until I was walking up to the cottage and realized tears would enhance the story...

"Dad, I totally hit a tree! We're okay, but Katie and I were driving on the highway and pulled onto a dirt road for a short cut. I was going too fast and tried to down-shift but I started to fish tail and we hit a tree...but we are okay..."

My dad knew I was blowing sunshine at him but tried to at least act concerned, because...I SUCK AT LYING. I've never been good at it. My face totally gives it away.

But, I stuck to my story and my dad at least acted like he bought it, for several years, anyway. Then, of course, years later he shared how a tree had "jumped out" at him while he was a teenager. Craziest thing! It was my ticket to finally come clean. He just smiled and said, "I knew."

And that's a dad, a human dad, that knew. Just like mom's know literally everything. (Em, if you are now a teenager reading this...I already know...and I still love you!)

And, of course, there are the lies and secrets we think we've gotten away with, but if they are hurtful to us or others, they will be exposed.

With God, there is no such thing as a secret.

We may have hidden something deep within our hearts long ago, but if it's something toxic to who we were intended to be, keeping us from beneficial growth, God will expose it. He doesn't do it to be a big fat jerk. God is light and will not co-exist with darkness. He actually does it quite gently at first. When someones "secret" is plastered on the front of a magazine cover or makes headline news, it may be shocking and the first time we have heard it, but God doesn't go right to the media with our secrets. He is a Gentleman and initially goes directly to us.

If we try to hide it even deeper, He'll bring it up again. Then, if we think we can still keep something from the Creator of the Universe, He will put us on someones heart who "just happens to be thinking or praying for you"...you know, because there are coincidences! At least, that's what we try to tell ourselves when a person we haven't heard from in years or months just happens to be thinking of us "out of the blue".

And, if there are questions or secrets we are trying to "hide" from God because we think He'll be too disappointed that we would even have them...guess what?! He already knows they are there. And, He can handle them. They don't intimidate God. They aren't even big enough questions, frustrations or concerns to even knock Him off His throne.

He knows. He knows that in this life we will have questions and we will wish He did things differently than we had planned. He knows that we have secrets and questions and He knows which ones are harmful to our health.

The day I realized that there was no such thing as a secret when it came to my relationship and communication with God, I experienced a freedom I had never known. God likes candid. There's no point trying to "blow sunshine" at Him. He. Can. Handle. It.