this tension

With heart pounding my fingers reached for the door. The excitement and nerves were rolling over one another, both fighting for dominance. As I walked into the room where we would be gathering and discussing and praying together I felt the familiar sting of hot tears. Always tears. No use fighting them, they leak and spill as they will. That night they were the overflow of a refreshed soul, a desire that had been unknowingly starved was finding nourishment and space to breathe again.

Each month during those Propel meetings I found myself enveloped and safe, surrounded by encouragement, love and understanding. I gleaned and absorbed as much leadership wisdom as I could, and as water being squeezed from a sponge I released all that I was learning into the daily routines at work and life.

With an increased confidence I am now less apologetic. My footing is more sure as I navigate people and conflict and problem solving. 

This season has been hard and beautiful and stretching and painful. A cocoon of sorts. I've gained knowledge and strength and allowed myself to dream those scary big dreams. Yet a cocoon was never meant to be a final stop. So, what once felt safe and comforting is beginning to suffocate and feel too tight. And I'm learning to appreciate the beauty that lives in the tension of what will be and what is right now.

I'm learning to listen and wait patiently for release. I'm learning to celebrate when others are finding their desires fulfilled while my hope is still being deferred. It's a battle of staying fully present while looking ahead with expectancy. In Simply Tuesday Emily P. Freeman refers to this tension as the multicolored life. We can be full of deep sorrow, yet still laugh at great memories at a funeral. We can be filled with such love and excitement at a graduation, yet shed tears of sadness that come with change. 

I'm struggling to stay content with the here and now while taking steps of faith towards the future, my passions. These active steps are moving me towards deep rooted desires becoming reality, yet it is still my responsibility to build into the people and work that have been placed in my hards right now. As Emily describes, I'm living with the Thank God as well as the Please God. 

This tension is refining. And although it's not something I would choose to walk through I'm finding myself relating with Paul and learning what it means to be content in all situations.

How do you handle the tension of what will be and what is? 

for all the ladies

Whether a stature of small or maybe quite tall,

An accent from Brooklyn or a deep southern drawl.

A shape that is curvy or one that’s more slender,

A teacher, a doctor, a public defender.

Quiet and shy, maybe boisterous and loud,

What you add to this world should be praised and avowed.

You rise with the sun and stay up way past dark,

Hustling and bustling to make your own mark.

You write and you paint and you plan and prepare,

You dance and you sing and you act with such flair.

Your office is large, or maybe not quite,

You chase and chauffeur babes well in the night.

You are daring, caring, sharing and true,

A rare kind of fierce that can only be you.

Wearing the highest of heals, flats, sneakers, or boots,

Jeans, shorts, fancy dresses or the classic of suits.

You’re a gem, an original, a one of a kind,

A smashing sensation, you are a rare find.

Wishing all of you without further delay:

A wonderful and happy International Women’s Day.

moments of weight and worth

The bitter, nutty notes of the coffee flirted with my nose as I walked into the cafe, (for the love that we share, coffee and me, is not void of the romance). I'd accepted the invitation with a heart full of joy and thanksgiving--I'd been asked to a coffee date by an "older" woman. The quotation marks are completely necessary as she is a mere 50, plus I have always been an old soul and she has a young spirit so we met somewhere in the middle where conversation flows unhindered by things like age and trends and hip lingo. It was evident that small talk would not be tolerated, (praises!), as the first questions set the stage for depth in sharing and soul bearing.

The words we shared were meaningful and weighty. They didn't elicit tears, or even laughter, but rather demanded the full attention of the other. There was an unspokenness about us, an understanding that we would be connecting on a soul level and that every moment together in that place would be precious and sacred. She shared of the new chapter she is entering with her family and about all that she has learned over the years and her plans for making the most of her current season in life. I spoke of my big dreams and passions and the doors that the Lord has been opening wide. I declared that fear will no longer have the power to keep me from stepping into my destiny. She smiled as if we were sharing secrets and shook her head in agreement.

Our hearts were being knit together in those 90 minutes. We didn't talk about love lost or love found, or anything suck in-between. Those moments will come, and when they do there will be tears, I'm positive, for that is where my heart is most tender. Our time was not muddied by marital status or job title or any other label. It was a protected time and space for two women to invest and come alongside one another. Women so different, yet similar.

It was a chance to cradle the dreams of another with tenderness and understanding, linking arms, rubbing shoulders. It was a chance to remind each other that we are meant for big things and settling is not an option. It was a chance to remember that we are a people meant for community, for pouring out and receiving. Together we are better and stronger and can help fill in the gaps where life is messy and hard, and rejoice in the moments of beauty and victory.

Differences do not have to complicate relationships, friends. Differences can actually be the very glue that binds us to another. Take a risk: extend or accept an offer to meet over coffee or take the kids to the park or go for a run. Stop comparing your life with her perfect social media world and stop being intimidated by her gifts and talents. Have an actual face-to-face conversation with her. You might make a new friend for life or you might have a new acquaintance that you once had a conversation with and got to spur on in her journey. Either way, you win. She wins. We all win.

There is nothing like sharing in the mystery of deep, spiritual friendship. Give it a try.

the power of presence

It takes discernment and wherewithal to understand the specific needs of a situation, and requires love to act accordingly. There is something powerful about having someone truly present - physically, emotionally, mentally. More than just a warm body, a warm body willing to make the investment of time and self.

Where schedules are full and busyness is celebrated, there is real sacrifice in slowing down and taking notice of all the small and easily unnoticed happenings of the day-to-day. Moments are fleeting and can slip through fingers like water. The future is exciting and mysterious and gives us hope to dream big dreams. But, without the faithfulness to invest in the present moments a dream will always be...a dream. 

I am realizing more and more that it's less about what will be and more about what is happening now. The moments of today are gifts for tomorrow.

The thing is being aware to all that's going on today and recognizing our part may just open a door and create an opportunity that will put those dreams into motion. And even if an opportunity is simply experienced for the smile and the brightening of another's day, it's worth the effort.

While we cannot say yes to everything, with wisdom and guidance from the Holy Spirit we will recognize the moments that need our yes. Our obedience and wise yeses have the ability to reach the deep places of the soul, blessing others and changing our own lives in turn.

Because in the end it is not about the stuff attained or accolades received..

but the individuals, lives, souls reached and changed for eternity's sake.

Take notice and be present. There is so much to come, but right now all you have in this moment.

looking ahead

Picture from IF: Gathering

There's something about a year's end that causes one to reflect on what has been and dream about all that will be. To exhale a sigh of release, and inhale deep, inviting hope for a brand new year.

In reality, the hurts, mess and un-forgiveness we refuse to address will follow us over the new year's threshold. January 1 is not the great eraser of all the bad of a past year, nor is it the magic wand that grants every wish and whim in the future. I spent much of 2015 hanging on to hurts from 2014. I thought I'd forgiven everyone, but in looking back I realize that I didn't let go of the guilt and shame that plagued me; instead, I clung to it like a security blanket. I don't even know what I felt guilty about, but lies have a way of creeping in and becoming their own reality.

It wasn't until around October that I'd had enough and decided to release. The words of that prayer echoed in the dark and the tangible peace in that place gave me the confidence to release everything. My biggest dreams. My deepest desires. My knuckles had been white long enough and in a whispered breath I placed in his hands that which should have been left there all along.

The very next day the Lord began to put some of my wildest dreams into motion. The very next day. I have said yes to some exciting opportunities and walked through doors that were not previously in sight. And as I look ahead and think about a new year the word that has been impressed upon my heat and mind is expectant. This year I want to be expectant.

Expectant that He hears my prayers.
Expectant that His promises are true always.
Expectant that He specifically placed each desire upon my heart.
Expectant that He is working out all things.
Expectant that He is able to do far more that I can even imagine.
Expectant that He will continue to guide me in my purpose.
Expectant. In. Him. Only.

This new year will be full of ups and downs, joys and tears. And through it all I want to be more audacious and bold and expectant than ever before, starting with my posture, my prayers. I want this year to be marked by the victories won on my knees, my attentiveness to his word and my obedience to his voice. I am saying good-bye to 2015 with a deep peace and fond memories and lessons learned. I am looking ahead at 2016 with confidence and an expectant hope and joy for all that is to come.

Will you join me?

The best is yet to come.

Welcome, 2016!

empower her

Dear marvelous you,

You are beautiful. You are smart and creative and have something so uniquely special to offer. Your presence is not only requested, it's required. We see you. We need you.

I know, your dreams feel big and scary and impossible. You are filled with all the reasons and doubts of why you should give up on the passion that is embedded into your very being. The thing that just won't quit you.

And you see her, the one doing that which you have wrapped your hopes and dreams around and your precious heart breaks and spills it's pieces as the lies of doubt root themselves a little deeper.

But, here's what you should know.

Her success does not take from your portion. You have not been disqualified, nor do you have to take the left overs. In kingdom work there is room enough for us all. And while there are a million somebodies, we have only one you.

So, will you be brave? Will you rejoice with her even if your season is one of waiting? Gratitude has this ability to turn stone to flesh, and that which has become stagnant to flowing, living water. And as your tender bruises begin to heal and turn into opportunities, please don't forget to look around and notice the her that is struggling to find her way. Please empower and encourage that precious soul, for we only have one her as well.

Sophia Nelson says it beautifully, we need to lift other women as we climb.

As you begin to find your place, your seat, remember that the heavenly table is never full. The women that you see are not your competitors, they are your comrades. They have experience and resources to share, and so do you. And, you know what? They need to be encouraged too. Often the strengths that others see are the very insecurities that they struggle with every day. We need a strong force of women standing together, encouraging and challenging one another to step up and be the courageous warriors that this world needs. There is too much at stake; this is too important.

Don't hold out on us, we need you.

Love,
me

the middle seat

Air travel is exciting, often exhausting and boasts of some of the best people watching around. I have met some of the grouchiest, funniest and most interesting people while sitting in airports or flying high above the ground's safety. Strangers becoming friends is one of life's grandest mysteries and greatest gifts. And while I have experienced such encounters, the shared words of this post carry a different message.

Matt Wertz is on my flight right now!!! I avoided eye contact and didn't sit in the available seat beside him...

The text was sent through shaking fingers to a handful of my dearest friends last week. Their responses were full of exclaimations and encouragements to be bold and questioning my life choices. In some small way I imagine they were sharing in my jitters and hoping that the character, (me), would do something that would awe audiences for years to come. But, let's back up.

My fate had been sealed, I was going to be sitting in a middle seat. Now, perhaps this day was going to be filled with smart choices, but once I recognized the person in the black KC hat the day was as good as gone. The seat next to him was empty and full of a million reasons why I should avoid it, plus I was wearing the wrong shoes. As often happens when I am nervous I became acutely aware of my hands and I did my best to walk as a composed adult down the aisle, resisting the urge to climb over, knock down or tackle the passengers in front of me in order to find safety in some less assuming middle seat. As I passed by him my bag either brushed his shoulder or knocked his head so hard that he got whiplash, I cannot be sure, but an excuse me or I'm sorry was out of the question since I had completely forgotten how to form sounds and make words.

The regret had already set in as I sent the text to the masses.

Had I chosen the seat beside him, there is a high probability that I would have been awkward and nervous and spoken complete gibberish. But, maybe after a couple of deep breaths I would have introduced myself and thanked him for using his gifts and talents to bless others. Maybe I would have mentioned how when I moved to Colorado five years ago I danced around my house to Everything Will Be Alright almost every night, or when I went through a tough situation with a church I Will Not Take My Love Away acted as a consistent reminder to a weary soul. And, maybe I would have mentioned that I first heard him at WorkPlay with some friends and we titled our evening: Three Andreas, Two Birds, One Stone. Maybe we would have chatted and laughed together as old friends for the entire flight, or maybe after the introductions we would have both gone about our airplane business. Maybe..

But I passed up an opportunity to encourage someone that I appreciate; and although we have never met, he has blessed my life through his words, his music, his creativity. I had the opportunity to do this in person, shoulder to shoulder, looking him in his eyes and calling out his gifts.

The could haves are the things that steal mind space. And really, as much as I wish I would have sat in that middle seat, it's so much more than that. I wonder what middle seats I'm avoiding right now. The ones that I know have potential for good, but I'm letting my insecurities call the shots. Where am I saying yes to fear? The middle seat may not always be the most appealing, but it might just have a view that is able to both surprise and excite. It's one thing to risk failure, that's hard and stretching and refining. But, what about risking success? It carries the same weight.

And maybe it starts as small as saying hello and taking that middle seat.

what I learned in September

The lines of August's ending and September's beginning blur together, becoming but a moment in time, a blink of an eye. The old and the new marry as one, with no skip or hiccup or noticeable interruption. A constant momentum moving the moments forward. Taking time to reflect reminds the mind and soul that so much is happening and, better yet, there is more to come. September was heavy with a depth of rich and invaluable learning:

My pen needs to create words and thoughts and things that can only be expressed through ink.

Words help tell our stories and relate to one another. They convey both the good and the bad, the lovely times and the bruised times. But lies often slip in to whisper about shortcomings, convincing the creator that the gift is not actually a gift, but rather a silly dream and a waste of precious time. These lies tried to become a permanent companion and caused my footing to slip for a time. My pen begged to scratch the empty pages, but the mind had already surrendered to the lies. The words were locked and buried, safely hidden somewhere in the deep.

But eventually the words needed to escape and became too strong to contain, a force much like the moon pulling the tide. The words begin to flow, the dam shattered. An unexpected opportunity caused the heart to sing and through the fear I submitted a yes to participating in a writing intensive webinar. 

Women's ministry is still woven into my very being.

This reality serves as a balm and sweet relief to my soul. A rough season of seeking community with depth left me weary and worn. I rested until I became restless. Women's ministry is sealed somewhere on the strands of my very DNA. And although this season looks very different, the outpouring of love and life remain one of those glorious mysteries of which I will always long to be a part. To know and be known. To walk alongside women, to provide counsel, to invite others to walk alongside me. It's hard and messy and lovely and refining.

Writing love notes to strangers is a game changer.

Pretty stationary and fancy pens do not a letter make. It's the words that are formed and the encouragements expressed that touch hearts and help heal and mend those who are broken or hurting or just simply trying to get by. More Love Letters allows strangers to share life through letters. Speaking words of love and life and truth is a joy and privilege. Leaving a note for a stranger to find is exhilarating, and it provides an opportunity to offer prayers for neighbors that you may never meet. There are also opportunities to write letters and speak directly to the specific needs of strangers. It's one of those blessings that you give and yet somehow receive. If you're looking for a way to love your neighbor, write a letter. It might just change someone's life..and that someone might just be you.

There's never a good time--just pick a time and buy the ticket.

After years of well intentioned words the only thing left was to take action. She moved with her family to New York--a Bama Belle in the Big Apple. The only thing keeping me from hugging and chatting and sharing moments with a dearest of friend was busy. The ever present schedule and to-dos. Reasons and excuses to stay will be ever present, but living and adventure and taking a vacation are real too. I bought the ticket. So now there is the counting down of days, outings to plans and outfits to choose. Because I'm going to New York.

Foam rolling hurts and I hate it, but I love it.

Lifting and running and barre make the muscles scream in pain. And foam rolling hurts. I'd rather skip the rolling, if you don't mind very much. But skipping the rolling would not allow the muscles to recover as they could. Staying comfortable and avoiding the pain is preferred, but that's not how muscle recovery works. Or life. 

Sometimes we have to walk through the hard, and usually for longer than we'd prefer, in order to enjoy the benefits of refinement, in order to become a better version of the very one we were created to be. We rub against others and learn some tough lessons and find that our rough edges begin to smooth out a bit. The process allows us to die to ourselves more and more, becoming more undaunted in our radiance of love and life and freedom. 

I prefer smooth and polished and fierce. (I also prefer long and lean and strong, in the muscle area.)

It's okay. I'm a little bit high maintenance.

There is a problem. Ignoring it will not make it go away. Listening to and caring for the body is a discipline. Maybe I'll have to cut out wheat and dairy and *sad sigh* coffee forever, or maybe just for a season. But when the body is feeling better, sleeping more soundly and enjoying more energy the sacrifices pale in value. 

Even coffee..sort of.

Learning and sharing is fun. What have you learned in the past month(s)?

I need you to know

The past months have been for reading, for listening, for observing. While the season has been heavy, my soul has relished the quiet moments found somewhere deep in the noise. The still has given me space to fill my lungs and breathe. Releasing tension, inviting calm. I've taken notice of the beauty around me and given thanks. And while I have a good life and much to be grateful for there is something I need you to know.

Sometimes I'm not okay. 

Some of my days are sad and dark and messy. I like for you to see a polished exterior, well groomed and lovely, allowing only my pillow to hold the secrets of shed tears and whispered prayers. I rarely speak about the very thing that rests upon my surface, this one care that I have learned to hold in and push down.

I want to be a wife and mother. More than any other hope or dream, I want to be a wife and a mother.

It's not that I'm alone and I haven't forgotten the truths that speak of who I am. Nor am I hopeless. But I rarely talk about this deep, unmet desire because I worry about what you will think. I worry that you'll think I'm needy and petty. I worry that you'll think that there are more important issues that should concern me. I worry you'll give me the crummy advice that seems to easily slip through well intentioned lips. I worry that you will feel uncomfortable or pity me.

I haven't told you of the days where the constant stream of tears left my cheeks stained. I haven't told you that the hardest thing I do each week is walk into church..alone. I haven't told you that it's sometimes a struggle being around the ones that I love the most because it often reminds me that I'm still waiting.

Perhaps I do think about this desire too much, wasting precious thoughts and tears. But perhaps in not speaking it I have kept myself locked and caged, making it impossible for you to truly know me.

Quite honestly, most days I am fine. I have a job that I love and the best family and friends. But sometimes I need to tell you that I'm not okay. And when this happens I'm not looking to be fixed.

I'm giving you permission to see my depth. I'm inviting you to share yours.

Sharing from the deep is scary and uncomfortable, it's also brave. It a risk to be raw and real and honest. It's a risk to shed the pretty and reveal the scars. But it's a risk worth taking because while it opens us up to rejection and criticism, it also positions us to receive love that is able to pierce through the walls we've built and cradle the burdens that we so desperately want to share and need to share.

Sometimes we have words to offer one another; sometimes we have only a shoulder, a tissue and a prayer. Which is enough and okay.

Perfection is a lie and it hides the beauty that is found in our mess. Beauty is in the cracks and broken pieces that have found the strength to mend and live on to tell their stories. It's there in the scars that know how to hope and look ahead expectantly.

Beauty lives in the places that are not okay but dare to have the faith that they one day will be.

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

today

Standing on the beach, toes at that line where the water barely graces the sand. Sinking into the cool. Looking out over the waves and beyond. Glorious.

Standing atop a 14K mountaintop. Crisp, fresh air. Scenery stretching for miles. Still and quiet. Breathtaking.

Precious life moments when time stands still and the grandeur of creation is oh so evident are treasures to behold. Perhaps these are times that make us feel small, or perhaps these are the moments that remind us to dream big. It is nearly impossibly to feel limits when looking over the vast reach of nature.

We settle for ordinary, when it is in the reaching for extraordinary that we find and experience greatness. There is no one recipe to follow to achieve a life well lived. It does, however, require us to step outside of comfortable, embrace some unknowns and face some fears.

Starting small, inching forward--the dream is in sight. Reach. Fight. Go. Often the first step towards extraordinary is saying no to the lies you are believing, or even telling yourself. You can do it. You were made for great things. Negativity has no place in your life. Maybe that was yesterday, but today..today your heart is pounding and you know that complacent sitting is not on the agenda.

No.

Today you'll need your waders..

hereto forth and forevermore

What happens when faith stops posing as a noun and begins to act as a verb should? Going. Doing. Leaping. Believing. When prayers whispered on bended knee are followed by armor bearing warriors ready and willing to fight the good fight. The decision has been made, feet are moving forward. The troops have been loosed.

It is in the daring that the yes is worth the risk even when failure is a possibility. Because, you see, it's not always that what you are doing is wrong, but maybe the wrong lies in what you are not doing. What is failure anyway? And really, is it the failure that you will regret more..or the *what ifs?* Failure is not inevitable, it is not the only possible outcome. For truly it is often in the perceived failures that we find the greatest breakthrough. Perhaps your dream is only a risk away. Are you willing to say yes?

Let start something great. One decision. One step. One day at a time.

monday, funday

115. The number of emails eagerly awaiting responses this Monday morning. Every email of urgent importance, every one needing an answer yesterday. Skimming the subject lines gives me an idea of where to start the attack--with the easy ones. Always start with the easy ones, the handful that can be knocked out in a few minutes, responded to with a simple sentence, word or even a :). Some emails are meant for accountability, *I met with 7 folks this weekend,* and merely warrant an encouraging stamp of approval: Fantastic! Way to go! Others are more detailed and emotion filled, questioning, needing assurance, assistance, a definite answer. Those require more thought and care, carefully crafted words that will both encourage and challenge when needed.

My office walls are covered with smiling prayer cards--each card representing folks who are eager to serve, sure of their calling, confidently stepping out of the boat and into the unknown. Only, their smiles can be deceiving. What these prayer cards hide are the tearful moments we spend petitioning together, the times of doubt where their thoughts must be redirected back to the stones of remembrance, and the overwhelming challenges of setting up appointments and asking individuals to join their support team. I walk through the hard, celebrate through the good and walk alongside of them through everything in between.

Some days I go home exhausted, spent. I've poured out, emptied and need fuel. After all, I am the answer knower and giver, and if I don't know an answer I must search, dig and ask until I do. I often feel overwhelmed because this "job" is so much bigger than me, weightier and more precious than gold. And, just when I feel like I'm sinking I open an email that contains sweet, soul piercing words:

And thank you for your encouraging words. They are genuine and from your heart, and that goes a long way, knowing you are praying for us and walking with us through this journey. You do your job well, and He has gifted you with many amazing gifts to lead us...

Sweeping away the loosed tears I am reminded that what I am doing is beyond my ability. He has gifted, He has generously lavished, He has given unconditionally. I mustn't let myself carry the weight of burdens that are not mine to bear.

Reflecting upon the day's emails I have a fresh perspective. My inbox is once again [almost] empty, today's troubles were taken care of and all has been made right. Tuesday will be a new day, with new worries, trials and celebrations, but for now I will enjoy the calm.

rest assured

Circles. I draw them a lot. They denote the circumference of specific promises. Purple. Pink. Blue. Some are inked in my favorite Sharpie colors, others have been invisibly traced with my finger. Numerous times these promises have been outlined; some have come to fruition while the glorious arrival of some are still unseen. Rather than running aimlessly in circles, I am circling these promises in prayer, obediently laying down every request before His throne, purposefully and expectantly.

I've been circling some promises for years...many, many years. Why do some seem to happen so quickly, while others take their sweet time? Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Yet, when I want to quit he renews my strength. When things seem hopeless he fills me with assurance. And in the storm, peace. That sweet peace that surpasses all knowledge. A peace that goes beyond feelings. A knowing peace that deeply pierces the soul. He never provides too early--He never provides too late.

I know that you know that I know that you know. I smile as I figure that sums it up. He knows. I know He knows. He knows that I know that He knows. And, with that revelation I am reminded that He has bottled every tear, remembered my every utterance and is working all things out.

After all, He's got this.