moment by moment

Moments cannot be captured.
They must be embraced,
                                         experienced.
For they are fleeting and special,
constantly moving in order to make room for the next.
The good with the hard, linking together they create life and growth,
movement...

meaning.

inspired I venture

Three days ago he wrote a book. I didn't know him so I googled him. I bought his book. I read his book.

The penned words were lovely, captivating even. I was hooked - the words were new, yet familiar. There seemed to be an intersection in his words and my thoughts and after some moments I couldn't tell who was sharing and who was thinking, both were feeling. Perhaps that's the beauty of writing that is raw and real and hard and true. It pierces a depth that cannot be measured. It strikes a chord and creates a melody that sings of life and passion and living in the now. A reminder that life is messy and short and beautiful. A reminder that life is precious and meant to be shared.

Our stories very different, yet common threads weave them together. Like fighting to be thankful, with much to be thankful for, and struggling through the reality of deep unmet desires. When tears are shed and moments lost because the one thing missing is the loudest voice of them all. And the have-not wins that round, even if for only a moment. But also the times of deep love, the pouring of oneself into others, encouraging and pressing forward. Of living in community, sharpening one another through the good and bad. The times when love triumphs and is the victor by a landslide.

But mainly the tears. The ones of hurt, of joy, of deep longing, of sadness, of celebration. Perhaps honest and brave, or other less attractive adjectives. But always real.

I am left feeling hopeful. My story is not finished, I have breath in my lungs and dreams yet to realize. And so do you. We have been given the gift of here, of now. We have great opportunities still ahead. Let's link, arm in arm, and press on. Together. Choosing love. Recognizing the privilege to share in the stories of others, and to have others share in our own.

And to Jamie Tworkowski, (founder of TWLOHA), a man I have only met through the Internet, I say thank you. Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for your vulnerability. Thank you for the humble strength you seem to selflessly share with others. Inspired I venture on.

Get If You Feel Too Much

to look them in their eyes

Pondering important life things on my way into work this morning, my mind and heart were content after being submerged in a room full of women wrestling through the reality of the incarnate God. Just take some time to bask in that truth..you will feel small and insignificant and incapable of full comprehension, because all of that is true. Jesus. Fully God. Fully man.

With this in mind I found myself recounting Jesus's life. The way he loved. The way he served. The way he emptied himself..for us. Sinners. Jesus, the man. Yet, God. And as my thoughts turned into prayers of how this truth does and should shape the way I live I noticed two men walking across the street. Both of them carrying backpacks bulging with all their earthly possessions, one toting a large dog. I meekly smiled at one of the men and was tempted to look down, turn the radio station, make an "important" phone call, anything really. But why? Why did I want to look away so quickly?

Maybe I could have justified my thinking and not given it a second thought. But the conviction in my heart was to dignify these two. But how? Love your neighbor as yourself. The command surged through my veins. The thoughts were swirling..what can I do now?

You can look them in their eyes and wave.

So simple. So small. But this morning, while I was stopped at a red light and two men and a dog crossed the street in front of me, I waved. As a neighbor would wave to another. With shocked looks, they waved back, smiling from ear to ear. I waved again and fought back the tears threatening to spill over. That was it. No words, no money exchanged, but I know that Jesus was there in that moment. Those men are my neighbors and deserved to be dignified with notice--deep down we all want to know and be known. And, quite honestly, a friendly wave was the very least I could have done, it cost me nothing..

..but created a rich and invaluable learning moment on loving thy neighbor.

sweet surrender

The holy babe made entrance

to the world through humble means.

Not by force or might or power

as seen by kings and queens.

He came to live and die, yet live,

to take away our sin.

Fulfilling promises of old

for new life to begin.

This day was long in coming

for the feeble race of Adam.

And his less than royal stature

no one could have fathomed.

Yet there he was, this precious one,

that all might now believe.

The very one to save the soul

of all who dare receive.

He accomplished here on earth

all he was to do and be.
Then to his throne in heaven returned
where he reigns eternally.
His sinless life and selfless deeds
serve model how to live.
That even in his final breath
he showed us how to give.

His coming to the world as man
was an act to set us free.

Yet still I wonder in my wait,

has he somehow forgotten me?

But then I turn my gaze above

and think upon his splendor.

The wait I have is nothing more

than that of sweet surrender.

when there's hope

The falling leaves and vibrant hues act as a soothing balm for a wounded soul. Change arrives, cooling the air while mending the broken and hurt of a season now passed. The warmth of layers, the comfort of steamy liquids, the embrace of covenant friends. Daily blessings overwhelm and remind the heart to cling to hope's anchor. Better days are ahead.

Hope is there even when a wake of hurt and bitterness threatens to remain after a passion has been marred and the heart mishandled. Even when prayers lifted from bended knees appear to have fallen on deaf ears and the silence becomes more unbearable than any noise - hope quietly whispers.

My small hope dared ask for a rainbow. Nothing fancy, just a glimpse of a color band in the clouds. But the mind's expectation paled to the glorious reveal. For when the request had been forgotten the eyes were delighted by the most stunning, double beauty they had ever gazed upon. And days later the gift of another, this time outshining the first, boasting majestically over the city of Denver. Demanding awe. While many saw these rainbows, my heart recognized them as gifts. Promises that prayers had been heard.

(captured while riding through downtown Denver)

Nothing is off limits for awakening hope, nothing big or small. The apology was offered, yet the reality remained. The stinging tears had been held back as long as possible, the silent prayers lifted. A familiar stranger could not have known, yet somehow offered encouragement through a post. A tweet filled with truth and perfectly crafted. Words of hope, as if written specifically for this heart. Timely words reminding the palms to open and offer, as a sacrifice, all the hurts. A reminder to forgive and release love and blessings over the current circumstances. A reminder to turn the eyes' focus toward others.

(a timely tweet from @mattwertz)

Through friends and family, words and nature, (sometimes buried deep), there is beauty in the mess. Things that cause the lip's corners to turn upward. Blessings to count. So, just as the trees are releasing their leaves, let's choose to release the cares, the hurts, the worries. And as the weights of past burdens are released there is freedom, a supernatural intervention giving the natural the ability to look beyond current circumstances and offer compassion and care, to serve others well. To see miracles and wonders beyond belief.

Fall is a time for leaping, spinning, twirling and crunching leaves in favorite boots. A time to give thanks for all that has been and look forward with expectancy toward all that will be. Regardless of where we find ourselves now, let's dare to look beyond ourselves and step into this next season with courage, choosing hope, offering love, changing our world. 

(enjoying the beauty of Vail, CO)

God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf.  (Hebrews 6:18-20a)

living in the overflow

Abundant living is not a matter of material gain, but rather a condition of the heart. It is a place that allows one to love without expectation, forgive without just cause and serve with selfless humility. It requires the bending of the knees, outstretching of the arms. Eyes are focused out towards others, even when desires within are left unmet. Serving becomes an opportunity to honor and exult, even the most undeserving, turning a have to into a get to. A spiritual act of worship, of praise.

And it is in the times of extreme exhaustion, when the wits end of the rope is in sight that the abundant outpouring of perfect love is released to overflowing. For it is in the overflow that strength is found not in oneself, but in the very One who cradles the soul and bottles every tear. In the overflow one finds grace and freedom. Mistakes made do not disqualify or discount, but instead turn one to repentance and new mercies. The dead places are brought to life, words of truth nourish and make firm the foundation upon which to stand. A bruised soul finds healing and acceptance.

When abounding love and abundant life are received, one is equipped and able to sacrificially give of time, talent and treasure. For, truly, it is not in the public accolades and acquiring of goods that one finds meaning, but in the quiet offering of a life surrendered, with eyes firmly fixed upon the eternal...

where the cost has been counted and the only reasonable response is Yes, Lord.

airplanes and promises

What does it look like to be audacious? How does that feel? Where conformity is valued, who am I really?

Confusion swirls as the thoughts are pondered. Unanswered questions fill mind space. As I close my eyes I hear a familiar sound overhead and my lips stretch into a smile. The roaring engine of a plane, soaring thousands of feet above the earth.

Flying releases a sense of freedom; I've jumped out of a couple of airplanes, but usually I find myself securely fastened and journeying from one place to another. Once as I was soaring 36K feet up in the air, deep in thought, tears began pouring, uncontrollably. My focus was on the nakedness of a left hand finger. The very finger that I figured, by this point in my life, would be adorned by a symbol of love, a till-dealth-do-us-part commitment. Tears still streaming, breath short, *the man sitting uncomfortably next to me*..unable to pull myself together.

Looking out into the wispy white I silently lifted up a prayer. Deep breath. Then a peace, not audible or spelled out in letters and lights, but a cradling of my soul, a deep caring for my heart. A reminder of the promise given years ago.

In truth, I've worn the label single as an embarrassment, shame. Because, you see, most of my friends are past the marriage stage, and are having or have had their children. How many times have I stood beside dear friends as they committed their lives to another? Rejoicing with laughter and tears. And then welcomed their sweet little ones, while feeling the piercing desire to one day gaze upon my own. Or held hands and petitioned expectantly for those who could not conceive, wondering if they realize the depth to which I understand their sorrow.

The whys are unrelenting. Where do I belong? And how much longer must I wait? In my head I know that this season is producing endurance and perseverance, but my heart aches.

And then the questions of *when are you going to settle down and start a family?* as if settling has anything to do with it. Settling is not an option. I have a calling and a purpose; I have not wasted my life recklessly on this world, but rather have offered a life of reckless abandon to my Maker. My longing to live an extraordinary life for him trumps my willingness to be content with the status quo.  He knows what is best for each one, and it is in the comparing myself to others that I begin to dwell on my have nots.

Yet, when hope seems like a distant memory He will often lift my head and remind me of his love..with airplanes, promises. Taking me to days much like the one where He romanced my heart high above the clouds. He is working it out. He is never early. He is never late.

Like the pilot He sees what's ahead, He knows where we're going. So, I can either rely on my limited window view or trust in His all knowing-ness. I choose to trust. I choose faith for what is still unseen.

So, audaciously, expectantly, boldly I pray for this desire to be fulfilled. Even when others have given up, I choose to believe that He is able. He knit me together, He knows every hair on my head, He knows my every thought. He has not forgotten me..

nor has He forgotten you.

 For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, "Fear not, I am the one who helps you."  --Isaiah 41:13