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.

All Up in Your Crazy

"I will combat my stress and heated difficult parenting moments with trips to the toilet.

I read a really darling short story about a woman who locked herself in her master bathroom happily for the weekend.  It was her own special stay-cation, complete with Orangina and crackers.

I may have to try that.  Don’t tell my kids."

 -  Jessica Patay, author of "She Runs a Good Race"

Here's my comment:
Some thoughts: I rhymed "Orangina" with vagina when I read that...and you caught me, my kids are perfect and I do, indeed, every moment of everyday, respond in godly wisdom and oozing goodness to them, like it oozes from me, from every pore...it's like I'm angelic or something.  This post has just inspired a post in my head...so I'm heading over to my blog to get my writing on, but in the meantime, you are better than me because instead of sitting on the pot to talk to God and find "poof" peace lately, I've been escaping to try to beat level "30" on Candy Crush.  And when I do sit in there a while I poop rainbows.  #isuckwayworsethanyou #youareonefantasticmama #iloveyougirl #youareawesome

My girlfriend Jess is an inspired writer, raw and authentic, and just posted some great wisdom for moms, a result of what she has been learning in "time-out"...not her kids' time-outs, but her own...where she puts herself to cool off and think it over.  The following post was inspired by her piece and actually started as my comment in her comment section, but I didn't want to hi-jack the post with a mega-comment, so, instead, here it is.

May I invite you into my brain, friend?  It looks a helluva lot like the 144 magazines on the library wall I'm sitting across from at this moment, all on different topics, each with a 100+ pages, plus advertising...and in that chaos, I get overwhelmed in my own head, want to throw everything away and live in an RV and just come visit you and drink a little wine overlooking the great Pacific.  Then Emily, excited, sweet, with the greatest of intentions, comes over to my shit-laden desk where I sit staring, wondering how I didn't get one friggin' thing accomplished all day, yet managed to stay busy anyway, and says, "Mom, can we look at organizational websites and draw up a plan of action and spend the whole weekend totally purging and organizing my room?"  And I should be excited about this because my kid wants to down-size and get organized but I'm folding 9 loads of laundry, laced with camouflage and safety orange and glow in the dark pajamas and odd numbered socks and I have 17 books home from the library that contain no pictures because they are for me to gain inspiration on how to live life free of the crazy because I actually don't care about stuff or things so organizing her room or any room in the house would look more like donating everything to the thrift and, of course, only having "7" of anything...and it's nearing the dinner hour and my personal Paleo chef decides we're having GF frozen pizzas and full-on grain nachos with dollops of dairy and leftover buffalo carnage.

And she doesn't mean anything by it because how could she know all the crazy that goes on in my head and heart on any given day?  And truth be told, her desire to purge, organize, and clean her room is evidence of her listening and letting it soak in all the times I've said, "Sweetie, more stuff doesn't fill the deepest part in our heart we're trying to fill...it's just more stuff and eventually it will overwhelm us. Less truly is more."

But the truth is I am a little kid, totally ego-centric, because I want to purge, organize, and clean up my crazy before I clean up her crazy.  I wanna be first!

And since I was just in the bathroom, I can't run there, she's got me cornered at my desk in the kitchen, so I sit on the toilet in my head go there in my head and talk to God, I'm not even 1/2 listening to her but instead breathing deeply, in my own time-out, and I repent for being selfish and ask God for grace in this moment, to let go of the agenda, my to-do list, my crazy, because I can't play level "30" to escape, and thanks to you, friend, I can't even eat chocolate or drink a little to escape because we are doing this flippin' accountability thingy, and it's good because I know and you know and we all know God truly is the Only One who can fill that deepest part in our heart where everything else around fades in importance and priority and somehow falls into place.

And so I pull her onto my lap, hug her huge with #intention, and tell her, "Peanut, I would totally love to help you with your room!  Let's get a plan and do it!"

Because spending the weekend with my pre-teen daughter, because she wants me to, is a blessing...I guess it's all about perspective.

There is a Time for Everything Under the Sun

Our third child didn’t get a baby shower.  Not because historically it’s improper in the book of manners, but because I just didn’t think my heart could handle it.  The last time I had been pregnant with a boy, my friends gathered around me as we ate chocolate and vegetables and artichoke dip, all the while cooing over adorable blue polka dot blankets and all things tender and tiny.  It had been almost four years since I had first become a mom, and with that bit of experience, this time around was a bit sweeter and much more relaxing.  With almost four years of practice under my belt, this was going to be a lot easier, a piece of cake.  I more or less knew how to prepare and what to expect.

I had let my guard down and was burned.  That wasn’t going to happen this time.

My friend recently posted how she had taken almost 1000 pictures of her nephew’s birth, and prior to that, she shared pictures of the shower she hosted for her sister, a celebration of the anticipation of their third child.

I am not one to weep over regrets, but my heart sunk a little.  Why hadn’t I allowed the many who offered to host me a baby shower just do what their hearts wanted to do?  Receiving help is difficult for me.  Pride gets in the way of receiving, because I am a damn strong woman and can do a hell of a lot on my own.  However, I’ve found over time how strength is beautiful in numbers, how relying on God and others is not weakness shown but rather confidence revealed.  Real trust, to the core…an ability to recognize most great masterpieces are made up of more than one color, a brick is solely a brick on its own, and a tree will never grow if the seed isn’t ever planted.

No orchestra is made up on solely one instrument.

And only now, after just having loosely celebrated Ryan’s 3rd birthday (Em was sick, he didn’t know it was his birthday or what that meant, really, and Jason and I were just home from Spain), am I able to understand it wasn’t out of guilt or feeling sorry for me that my friends, old and new, wanted to host me a shower. 

I realize now that a shower is to celebrate the anticipation of the little life about to enter the world, an opportunity to celebrate the woman carrying that life, the waiting parents, and a space for everyone to rejoice.  

There is a time for everything under the sun.  Pregnancy and the anticipation of a child is a time of celebration.  Only when news otherwise is relayed should the celebration turn into mourning.

There is a time for everything under the sun.

We don’t skip bridal showers because we think the poor couple won’t last past the infamous 7-year itch.  We don’t forgo weddings for the same reason.  There is no guarantee, on any given day, we will all make it to the 89 year old mark, so should we all skip cake and ice cream, all the years leading up to our day?   There is no guarantee, only hope and hard work, if our marriages will, indeed, continue happily ever after.  Just because a woman is pregnant does not mean the baby inside of her is meant for this side of Heaven.

And just because my heart was raw, carrying another son in my womb, unsure of the days to come, jaded a bit from loving and losing, doesn’t mean I should have denied my family and friends the opportunity to anticipate and celebrate the life growing in me and the arrival of our newest family member.

I’m not saying it was right or wrong to deny my friends and family a chance to host a shower for me years ago.  What I am saying is, in my selfish attempt to protect my heart from further heartache and disappointment, I shut down and didn’t even allow those who loved me to show their love faithfully as they had in the past.  They had celebrated with us, and also mourned when it was time.  

Birthdays, showers, anniversaries, holidays.  All of these celebrations, though marked with loss and memories, no matter how distant, are indeed, celebrations.

I'm not sure why I'm writing this 4 years from when my friends offered to throw me a shower, but I felt strongly to share my heart.  Maybe you are fearful to celebrate the anticipation of a child on the way, perhaps you have had adoptions fall through and it's scary to let your head and heart go there again.  Maybe fear is gripping you as you allow your heart to fall deeply in love again after the loss of a spouse?  I don't know.

I do know for several months I was fearful Ryan would die, just like his big brother.  And I had really, really, really, really, really fallen in love with Noah.  But I knew Noah was dying, and at the same time, I knew he deserved all my love and I loved him with all of my mommy heart.  I don't live in fear anymore that Ryan is going to die like his brother.  He will die.  I don't know when.  God knows the number of our days.  I do know this, however...I have jumped in with both feet in loving Ryan.  The ache and grief of losing his brother does not hang over me as I flip his curls through my fingers, rub noses, snuggle in our favorite chair while reading, and play choo-choo's in the basement.  I'm in love and it feels really amazing.

Every Single Day is a celebration of the lives around us, even our very own.  Is there someone in your life who needs celebrating today?

The only loss in loving is to look back and realize we never gave it our all.

Re-entry

Spain was mucho awesome.  (I will share more later...)

I learned many things there and am inspired upon returning home to make some changes, finish some projects, write about some stuff, throw stuff away, and at the same time, I'm overwhelmed at the thought of any of it.

There's this major crash which happens after a stellar time away from reality.  It's the collision of re-entry and I've hit it hard this time.

I'm not complaining that I had time away, nor am I disappointed about being home, back in my life.

Part of the crash comes when you realize your two weeks of other people preparing you meals has come to a halt.  #sangriaatnoon

Maybe it's more disenchantment...and not that I don't siesta on a regular basis or drink sangria for lunch, truly, but more so because ever since Noah died, I've been disenchanted with the "American Dream" and get overwhelmed easily when I feel the margins shrinking in on me.

And I'm the only one who can change the margin width of this life document.

So, I'm not sure what this margin expansion will look like, but I know it will involve a lot of purging because my head and heart always feel better with less clutter.  The creative juices were also recharged in Spain, so designing and writing will be major contributors to creating more margin, too.

It was fitting this morning when the pastor shared his thoughts on God as Creator.  As a creative person I am often stifled by feeling boxed in, pigeon-holed, feeling stuck and then either staying in the stuck moment growing stagnant, or lifting my eyes to the One, the Ultimate Creative, and trusting Him to lead me as I live this life with intention, purposefully being creative for His glory, ugly mistakes and all.

Anyway, here are some random thoughts I wrote down today.  I hope they encourage and inspire you, as well:

• Regarding 40 years in the wilderness, sometimes in order to move into a new season in our lives, something has to die (a dream, behavior, former way of thinking or living...) 
• For 40 years in the wilderness the manna was new and fresh every morning, trusting God as the Supplier and Source of each day.  This time gathering and eating the daily bread was what gave strength for the day's journey.
• Before moving into a new season, take time to celebrate and remember God's faithfulness and steady love in the former season.  Stop.  Celebrate.  Give thanks.  He doesn't change but the seasons do.  
• Restlessness can create change in our hearts.  Be attune to your restlessness and lay it before God for what's next...
• "Sometimes we have to say goodbye to a good season in our lives in order to move into a great season," said the guy who was substitute speaking today.  (Cliche, yet often true...)

God is my Creative Director.  Though His love hasn't changed in all of time, He is Creative and brings a new day with new beginnings, life outside the box kind of living, stuff we've never seen, each and every day, if we seek Him.  

If you've measured God by the standards of men all your life, there is no wonder why you continue to be disappointed in Him.

Don't box Him in and just see what He will do.  

*Do you have a story to share of how you boxed God in and He showed up to show you just how Big He really is?  How do you create margin in your life?  Are you on the edge of a new season in your life?  If so, looking back, how can you show thankfulness, even in difficult times, in order to move forward with a new perspective?

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...)

Reading Through the Bible in 90 Days

Time is my love language.

For whatever reason, time is a really big deal to me.  How I use it or the people it is filled with, it's a big deal because there is only so much of it and deep in my heart I desire to be a good steward of this gift called time.

As a result, tangible gifts from me will be haphazard, at best.  When I am out and about, if I see something which reminds me of you, two things may occur.  If I have money in the budget, I'll buy it for you because it may bring a smile to your face.  However, if it's something I can make, I'd rather spend the time using my hands to create it for you, one because it's therapeutic to use my hands, and two, I'm a bit old fashioned.  Homemade gifts are timeless and remind me of a more simple way of living.  The second thing which may occur is not a purchase at all, but some time spent thinking about you, because a particular thing or place reminded me of you.  I'll talk to the Creator of the Universe who knows you better than I do, and I'll ask Him to bless your heart, fill you with His Spirit, spend a bit of time, honored to know you, humbled to communicate with our loving God who made you on purpose, because He loves you and has a plan for your life.

Time.

In my life, time can equal love and goodness, or it may equal angst and contempt, depending on the people who fill it, the circumstances surrounding time spent, and how my heart is rooted in God's love to filter it either way.

So, as you know, along with a group of women all over the country who joined me randomly via Facebook, I am reading the Bible cover to cover in 90 days.  I don't say this because I think I'm all that and a bag of chips.  I'm just saying it.  It's what I've chosen to do with a good chunk of time most every day for the next 90 days or as long as it takes.

And let me just say, all at once, this time has been a real pain in the ass and completely beautiful.

In 26 years of Bible reading, I've never read it cover to cover, beginning to end.  I've read the New Testament dozens of times, studied it, marked it up, some books more than others, some chapters over and over and over.  As far as the Old Testament goes, I've spent time in every book, studying some stories or books more than others, but admittedly, skipping over names and lineages of names I can't pronounce.  I've also knowingly skimmed and brushed over the wars and fighting, the doom and gloom, the bloodshed and some of the prophecies of time here or in the future, all of which is in God's hands and line of sight, not really wanting to get swept away with all the, "What if's?"

Really, cherry picking, if you will, choosing to spend time reading the words which challenge me and fill my heart.

But in reading cover to cover, in a concentrated amount of time, there is no such luxury.  As far as it being a pain in the ass, I read the Laws and literally cry out to God, "Really?!  Are You serious?!  I'd rather spend time reading something sweet and lovely, Lord!!!"  And then the bloodshed and massacres, wars and looting, rape, incest, murder and deceit...I am grateful to know there is more to the Story.  More to come.  Time not yet fulfilled.  I am torn because we are appalled at modern day atrocities, yet they aren't modern but a continuation of a world lost without God leading the way in the day to day, in countries and communities, tribes and families, individual hearts.

"True Love" Tattoo brooch by Zoe Larkins, Etsy shop owner.

However,  there is where the beauty lies.  As I sit with these heart-wrenching stories, dredge through lineages and unnecessary gore, anticipating what I know is a True Love Story, realizing the ground work of what I am reading is a picture of WHY Jesus came in the first place, I'm reminded of His words and instructions which I have known not only for 26 years, but since I was a little child, at night, before bedtime...one day at a time, Your Kingdom come, Your will be done...

And somehow this time spent filling my head and heart with pictures of historical mayhem and the future not yet revealed has also filled my spirit with interface time with the God of the Universe who loves all of us and sees a bigger picture which has good in store.

Even in wrestling with the difficult questions, I'm wrestling with the Divine.  The very thought of which is beautiful.

Time well spent.

History in Pictures

Happy 20th Anniversary, Sweetheart!  20 years.  I wrote a "Husband List" before we even met and started dating.  It was 6 pages long.  No pressure, right?!  I think it was the "thing" to do in Christendom way back when, now hidden in a journal somewhere in the basement.   On it were things about integrity, wisdom, a sense of humor, someone who was a good financial steward.  Truth be told, I don't recall all the things I thought a husband should be, or at least things I wanted in one, but I remember the first item and it read like this:

1. My husband has to love God more than he loves me.  If this isn't in order, nothing else will be.

In my immaturity as a 21 year old girl marrying the love of her life, somewhere in my heart I'm sure I thought you would be all those things when we walked down the aisle.

Time and maturity and many moments on our knees before God have shown me how very short the list could have been in the first place.  The rest has been icing on the cake.  After I self-righteously scribed "The Husband" list years ago, the person leading us in the exercise said, "Okay, now, before you can expect those tings from another person, you have to be willing to let God instruct YOU in them, as well."

It's safe to say, this has been a journey of learning, the best and hardest lessons of my life, but I can't imagine not learning to love and live without you by my side. 

For a man of few words, you sure married a wordy girl.  I could just write, "I love you," but there's just so much more to it with 20+ years of inside jokes, memories shared, world travels, losing loved ones, having kids, remodeling 2 houses, job losses and gains.  All I know is, you could write a post entitled, "What Every Husband, and Guy Whoever Wants to be One, Needs to Know to Have a Happy and Healthy Marriage."  Sweetheart, you are an expert in this field, and I think it boils down to you doing these three things very, very, very well:

You love the Lord your God with all of your heart, soul, and mind...and you love your neighbor as you love yourself.

And by neighbor, that would be me. *wink, wink

Marriages are crumbling and dying all around us.  This isn't to say we haven't walked through gray areas, dry zones, and faced what seemed insurmountable obstacles.  We have.

But I love God more than I love you, too, and so it's worked.  We work.

I told you "I love you" first.

A note your mom gave to me before our wedding.  This is a letter every mom should write to their future child-in-law.

June 26th, 1993

Our first self-portrait as Mr. and Mrs. Jason Graves, ready to set out on the first of many adventures.

10 nights in paradise

Your leg was shaking as you braced yourself over the waterfalls.  Thanks for splurging on our student income...Maui was a fantastic memory!

Remember the storm that morning?  So much has changed since the time this picture was taken.  I was so blessed to know your dad, Sweetheart!  And my heart is full to call your mom a dear friend and to walk and do life with my parents in the day to day.  We are so rich!

Your first Weber at Foxfire, Tulsa, OK

I love that besides Mexico, every country I've ever traveled to, it's been with you!  Here's a sweet little Siberian fan of yours.

I believe this anniversary consisted of strange tasting pizza in St. Petersburg, followed up with 60 teenagers asking us how our date went...

I know we moved to MN for your PhD, but I just want to thank you for putting up with me and my love of student ministry and mentoring girls.  Those 5 years I worked at NWC were a highlight of my 20's, even as rough as some of them were.  I can't believe I got paid to hang out with hundreds of young women year after year!  Thank YOU for being secure in who you are and never being jealous of the time I spent with the girls!   I loved that job and every girl I met there.  My life is richer for knowing each one, and though you were quiet and working on your thesis most of that time, I felt your constant support, so thank you! You seriously are the best!

Here you are on a bro-mance getaway to Alaska...because that is something we both shared openly up front:  friendship and time with our guys or girlfriends is important.  I appreciate so much your healthy, balanced approach to knowing you can't fill my every need, nor can I fill yours.  I'm so grateful you have had man getaways and I just want to say, "Thank you!" for the times you've encouraged me to be with my Bevies!

More bro-mance happening over turkey carcasses...

On top of the world...or at least the Andes.  I always wanted to travel the world...I didn't figure we'd always have teenagers with us, but hey, leading trips meant they were paid for, hey hey!!!

Thanks for allowing me this one semi-crush.  Bono is too short for me, and married and all, but I never wanted to marry him...you have always been the only man I ever wanted to marry.  Thanks for all the concerts over the years.

Our first house in White Bear Lake.  We sure did make that thing cute!  I remember being in the basement, barely pregnant with Emily, watching airplanes fly into the Twin Towers.  Better memories, however, were living only a few blocks away from Ryan and Shannon, walking over to that burger place or Einstein's, and playing pranks on our friends.

Ahh, Gramma Pat's house.  Thank you for your patience with me as the daughter of a builder who saw no reasons why we couldn't just knock down that wall and that wall and that wall, all while pregnant with our firstborn!  Were we crazy?  All I know, I was large and in charge!  You did a beautiful job on that place, Sweetheart!  Thanks for making 803 Poplar our home!

I always knew you'd be a great dad!  You were pretty in awe of Emily making her sweet entrance into the world!  Thanks for holding my hand, helping me breathe, and pushing my hair out of my face.  It still blows my mind that God would say, the very moment she was born, "I love her more!" 

Our Peanut, Firstborn, Daddy's Girl. circa 2004

And since you or I had never been a parent before, all I can say is, I'm glad we've gotten to "wing it" together!  We haven't done it all right, but I think she's turning out alright...and that because you place God first.

I think this was our first official nugget of time away from Em.  Thanks for playing in the Big Apple with me!  We've been in some pretty fun places together!  Can't wait for some more!

Pretty sure this is our 12th anniversary when we first discovered Vesta Dipping Grill.

Perks of you working for a company out of England...Thanks for letting us tag along for a couple of weeks.  Thanks for being sweet and enduring my love of Lady Di and having lunch at that one place plastered with her pictures, too.

Oh man, this was a fun trip!  Remember the little Japanese ladies who came to our hotel room and walked on our backs?  How was that naked business meeting of yours?  Awkward?  #japanesebathhouse #nikkojapan #tallestpeopleinjapanthatweek

Our firstborn son.  Oh man, I was so happy to give you a boy, and selfishly to soak him up myself.  Thanks for being a champ and going along with inviting all my Bevies into the delivery room!  Thanks, too, for choosing Noah's name.  It was beautiful...he was beautiful!

Mt. Evans hike with your man cub, June or July 2006.

August 2nd, 2006.  God was my Solid Rock, you were my hand to hold and shoulder to lean on.  Your faithfulness was unmatched.

We celebrated his 1st birthday surrounded by friends and rainbows in the sky.  He was the only one not in attendance.

Years later, on this anniversary, I think we had found our smile again...

On this one, I know we did, because the following picture is a result...wakka, wakka

Brave, protective big sister...scared mama, trying to treasure the life of the one growing in me.  Thanks for taking a risk with me, Sweetheart!  Trying this whole "having a kid again" thing was a rollercoaster, but one I'm glad I got on.  Thanks for holding my hair back as I puked my way through the fear.  You're kind of awesome!

I know you were tired, physically and emotionally.  By this picture, you and I had already celebrated 17 anniversaries!  Honored to welcome into our lives this son named after your friend. 

#deepcontentmentandthankfulness #utterexhaustion #ilovemyguys

20 years, Sweetheart.  20 years.  You are the most generous man I've ever known.  You are wise, in fact, those scriptures in Proverbs about wise guys with few words, well, I know God wrote some of those specifically about you. 

This is from our 19th wedding anniversary last year having Spanish tapas in downtown Denver.  This year we'll be having tapas in Spain.  I can't wait for more adventures, though I do not take for granted all we've already shared.

Jason Aaron Graves, you are my very best friend and I'd say "I do" all over again if you asked me.  But this time I would skip the poofy dress...

I sure love you, Sweetheart!
xoxox 

And 10 Things I Love About Me

So, last fall I was really humbled to be part of an intimate retreat weekend in Austin, Texas.  I relished in hearing the stories of the women I had never met, as well as cherished the opportunity to reconnect with the girls I knew from various times in my life.  To be honest, just be away from everything and have girl time was what the Doctor ordered.

I love girl time.  (Written language is inadequate a tool for me to convey how much I love time with girlfriends...)

Kristin Armstrong shared some of her own story during our weekend, with authenticity and vulnerability.  She's a fan of Brene Brown, queen of vulnerability, but not only that, she's a fan of girlfriends and especially a fan of when we as women come together and thrive in our uniqueness. 

I still carry many treasures from that weekend, but one I keep coming back to is how Kristin asked each of us to think for a while, to remember way back when, to our first memory of really feeling alive doing what we loved to do.  Like, "when you were a kid, what was your favorite thing to do?" type of question. 

And then, basically, what your first memory of your favorite thing was is how you were designed/wired/created...how God made you..."what you would thrive in being when you 'grow up'."

My memory of when I first felt alive was on the playground in elementary school.  I could picture it clear as day, and I could see myself, gathering girls.

Photo: www.katu.com "Portland Park Series"

I wanted everyone to belong.  My heart hurt when other girls felt left out.  I still remember the names of some of my classmates...the ones other kids made fun of for different clothes, different ticks, different skin color.

I felt most alive and the deepest joy when swinging on the monkey bars or climbing the Rocket Slide with all the girls.  It made my heart happy when we ALL played Chinese jump rope or Double Dutch, taking turns.  Even though only two could go at a time, I loved taking turns on Wall Ball, Tether Ball, and on the swings.

The 80's were good on the playground.  Photo: www.egotvonline.com

For me it wasn't hard to believe we could all just get along.  Even if we had disagreements, I knew deep down in my heart the playground was for everyone...Krissy, Swati, Kari S, all of us.

It wasn't just for the whoevertheheckdecideswhoispopular kids.

And so, even if some days I sit on my floor and cry because I'm stuck and not in love with myself, because of your encouragement and God's love for me, I woke up to this reminder this morning.

Here are 10 Things I Love About Me and I have even gone to my counseling appointment, wink, wink:

1. I am a peacemaker.  "You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight.  That's when you discover who you really are, and your place in God's family."
2. I love to build bridges between women.
3. I actually do love to play on the playground.
4. I love listening to the stories of other women.
5. I love to see a woman living in complete freedom...to me, it's one of the most beautiful sights to behold.  There's nothing she can't do...
6. I love how much my heart is capable of loving my husband and kids.
7. I love time with girlfriends.
8. I'm really good at making soup from scratch.
9. I love to sew and design and create clothes and jewelry and decor.
10. I will always believe the best about you, because we all have a story...

*I won't lie, writing this list took me a lot longer than my "hate" list.

I challenge you, not just to do this exercise, but because it will encourage others, as well:  in the comments, write 10 Things You Love About Yourself.

Ready, go...

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...

X Does Not Equal Y

"I used to want to fix people, but now I just want to be with them." 

 - Bob Goff, author of "Love Does"
(mandatory must read for the summer...)

Recently I had a conversation with someone who was creating doctrines out of "one-liners," essentially judging the behaviors of others with consequences they saw fitting from the Bible based on one single sentence in Scripture.

X = Y.

This is dangerous business, the doling out of judgments, biases, and "God's" reprimands.  This is what denominations and religions and cults and cliques and exclusive clubs within Christianity have been built on for ages and in more recent years, I personally see it gaining momentum.  A momentum which is building even in light of all the free love and acceptance that's preached on any given Sunday.

This business alone is God's.  Just God's.  God revives hearts.  God's mission is all of us.  God is the miraculous.

How very helpful we must feel to point out the imperfections of others...you know, because God can't see them on His own and all.  And what we have to show others in being right and proving their wrongness will sure teach them and inspire them to want to be more like us...urrr, God, I mean.

Sin is real.  And sin is painful.  And we all sin.  And the truth is, we don't sin exclusively, meaning, it doesn't only affect us, it affects our relationship with God and our loving relationship and connectedness to other humans.  Sin is a big deal.  But not so big that God can't forgive it...and never so big that we can't go to Him and receive renewal in His grace, every day, fresh each morning.

It seems it's only the humans who want to keep pointing out one another's suckiness...

I can think of two specific examples where God gave "X = Y" a swift kick in the pants.  There are tons more, but these two I've been chewing on more recently.

• One is when the super spiritual people of the day approach Jesus and ask him about this blind guy, stating, "Who sinned, the man or his parents, causing him to be born blind?"  The Message answer reads, "Jesus said, 'You’re asking the wrong question. You’re looking for someone to blame. There is no such cause-effect here. Look instead for what God can do. We need to be energetically at work for the One who sent me here, working while the sun shines."
• Another is when the spiritual ones brought to Jesus a woman who had an affair.  They pointed out the laws written stating she should be stoned because of her behavior.  Rocks would hurt.  They would definitely kill her.  I wonder how many of the spiritual ones said stuff like, "Well, she deserves it, I mean, she's the one who had the affair..." And then Jesus said, "The sinless one among you, go first: Throw the stone."  And then it says, "Hearing that, they walked away, one after another, beginning with the oldest. The woman was left alone."

Then let's just chuck it all.  I mean, pointing fingers and segregating throughout the course of church history has clearly made the world a better place.  Either chuck it all, God, baby, and the bath water, or, better yet, because this has definitely been more effective:  let's surround ourselves with people who believe the exact. same. things. we do and then let's point out all the ways in which everyone else doesn't measure up to what it is we believe.  Yep.  That, for sure, will convey God's supernatural, unconditional love, grace, forgiveness, and Sacrifice to a hurting world.

How is it, then, that we should live?  "'Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’  These two commands are pegs; everything in God’s Law and the Prophets hangs from them.” - The Message, Matthew 22:36-40

So then what?  Just love God with all your guts, and love everybody else and yourself as #2?  Is it that simple?  

And yet it's almost excruciating at times, because usually what we hate the most in others and are able to see blatantly in the behavior of others is what we most readily recognize within ourselves.
  
Radical love isn't pointing out one another's shit.  It's walking through it together.

The Next 90 Days

I'm not a consistent blog reader, or writer, obviously.  It goes in waves, sometimes because I have time, sometimes as the crow flies, other times if I'm inspired to write, or read, if there's a good link from a trusted friend.  Yada, yada.

So, this friend who is a missionary is home on furlough.  We were going to grab coffee last week, so I went to her blog to catch up on some news and see what was "new" in her world, besides what I already knew through some emails.

On her blog she had put it out there if anyone wanted to join her in reading through the Bible in 90 days.  Her start date was something like June 18th ish.

I emailed her prior to our coffee date and said I'd love to join her in reading through the Bible in 90 days.  Those year long reading programs just seemed so, oh I don't know, long and drawn out.  This seemed like a great challenge and since I've just finished up some great study time in the prophetic books (Daniel ROCKS), I thought it would be great to go back through the Bible from cover to cover, this time, though, in The Message Remix version.

She said, "HA!  That's funny!  I'm not a very consistent blogger.  That post was from one year ago!"

Then she let me know she'd love to join me, but she's about to dive into learning the Czech language all summer, so couldn't do both.  Whatever, just because she's got 4 kids, is living in someone else's home and learning Czech, moving to another foreign country in 2 months, I mean, what's the big deal?!  *please know I'm joking...

But I was already kind of excited, so I determined to start on June 1st and then threw it "out there" to Facebook world.

And 15 girls from around the country are doing it, too!  I was BLOWN AWAY!  I'm a total team player, so was so excited to set out on this journey with others, though I was going to do it on my own either way.

I've read and studied the New International Version of the Bible for 26 years now.  And it's good and rich and I love all God has taught me through reading it. 

But I'm also NOT that girl who thinks you can only know God if you read the KJV or whatever other Koolaid some people are trying to pour you.

Anyway, I love the wording of The Message Remix and have been reading it sporadically over the last year (Mother's Day gift, 2012) as my main go-to.  And I tell you what, reading it from beginning to end (I'm only on Genesis 45 right now, day 3) is already totally awesome!  And difficult, and gut-wrenching, and I wish I had more hours in the day...

If you are interested in doing it, too, and are on Facebook, you can let me know here in the comments and I can add you to the private group.  Though you can just check in here, too, once in a while as I'll be posting here and there about what God shows me.  We aren't following a specific reading plan or anything.  This isn't a legalistic undertaking, but a time of intention to read for what works out to be approximately one hour a day.  Often times in Bible studies or times of prayer, we are the ones doing all the talking, going down our list of things we want God to do for us.  This is a time of reading what God has done throughout history and what His deep down love story looks like for mankind...what He has to say to us.

And, my friend even listened to it on CD if she was out on a walk or in her car or whatever. 

Anyway.

I hope you can join us.  If not, when you think of it, please pray for us.  We're in:  MN, HI, CO, VA, GA, NC, OK, MI, NE, TX, and...

On Any Given Day

"We're not keeping quiet, not on your life!  Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace.  There's far more here than meets the eye.  The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow.  But the things we can't see now will last forever."  - Scripture remix, The Message, 2Cor4

Perspective.

My earliest memory of "different" is of playing down the road at my friend Michael's house.  His house had a 6-car garage, each filled with a shiny Corvette.  His house had many rooms.  His basement had a temperature regulated air-hockey room, as well as a pool table and mini-bar.  His dad was rarely home and his mom seemed sad and lonely.

My house was pretty and happy and normal.  I had my own room, a football shaped soap-on-a-rope and a Barbie record player with a microphone.  My sister and I used to make forts in the woods behind our house, pick strawberries, and explore for hours before our much-needed nightly baths, in which I used my soap-on-a-rope, courtesy of the door-to-door Avon lady.  My parents kissed a lot and laughed, we ate dinner as a family, and they took us to the park and to get ice cream cones once in a while.

And yet, America thinks the bigger house in scenario one with the 6-car garage is the goal.

We have some serious First World Problems.

Because, on any given day, what matters is that I grew up loved and by growing up in a loving home, I, in turn, learned how to love, or at least was shown love is what matters.  Sure, there have been times where a granite topped mini-bar in the basement sounded like a good idea, but then, well, then I put it into perspective.  Life does that to you when something real happens.  When something happens over which you have no control...when you did everything you knew to do, yet the outcome wasn't what you wanted or dreamed of.

On any given day, 25,000 children under the age of 5 pass away.  On any given day, somewhere in the world, a husband or a wife live out the words, "Til death do us part."  Accidents, natural disasters, sickness, and natural aging all lead to death, on any given day.  And the tragic thing is, as humans we contribute to this heartache by creating scenarios where more sadness is fostered, through wars and abuse and murder and hatred, comparison, bullying, whatever...because there isn't enough devastation in the world?!

Over the course of the last few months, on any given day, these are just a few of the things about which I talk to God, not understanding, not being able to control or manipulate it, but just going before Him, trusting He sees "The Other 90%" and that He is good and has a plan, despite my limited perspective:

• A friend who has suffered years of emotional abuse in her marriage
• A friend who is a single mom, working so hard to support herself and her kid
• A friend who had to take her mom off life-support
• A friend who lost her husband and is now raising their kids on her own
• A friend who has cancer
• A friend who has gone through a divorce and is starting life new after 20 years
• A friend whose husband lost his job
• A friend whose husband is unfaithful
• Friends who have kids with special needs
• Friends trying not to grieve while their sick baby is still with them
• Friends who have lost children
• All the single mom's I know whose ex's are slackers
• The people I know who are totally jaded by American Christianity, asking God to somehow use messed-up me to show them His love
• The friend with the terminal illness
• The one who is struggling with addiction but is afraid to share
• Friends who are missionaries, living far away from loved ones
• Friends recovering from bankruptcy
• Friends struggling with depression
• My mom who's going through chemo, again, because the cancer has returned

And these are just a few.  Add to it all the things on your heart and the people in your life and then add to that things that take place in our communities, our countries, and all around the world, and I'd say there is a lot of stuff with which we could feel overwhelmed.

I'm grateful I can take actions to encourage others, though I know I can't fix it all.  At the same time, I'm also very grateful I don't run the Universe, but I trust in the One who does, and even though I hate pain and suffering, on any given day He promises to be near to those whose hearts are wrecked...and from experience, He's not a liar.

*What's on your prayer list?  Are you overwhelmed by it or is it something you are able to trust God with, on any given day?