Knowing Fear.

To keep up with the theme of fear I've been talking about lately, I subconsciously decided to conduct a field experiment this weekend.

I went surfing.

And now here I sit with six internal and seventeen external stitches in the middle of my thigh that will leave a nasty, frowning scar on my leg. Bummer scenario, kind of a funny story.

Against my non spontaneous husband's judgement, we decided late Friday night to get up early with some friends to go to the beach. With some surfboards. Matt and I have been surfing twice before. We probably couldn't claim expert level quite yet. Our surfer friends hit the water before we could even get our suntan lotion on, but one came back to shore fairly quickly and let me grab his board. It was all downhill from there. I should have used my brain and waited for someone who knew what they were doing to come out with me. Instead I threw on a wetsuit top and went for it. I (kind of) caught a wave immediately but almost lost my bathing suit bottom in the process so went back for some shorts. Best decision of the day. Five minutes later, I found myself thrashing underwater, thinking I was going to drown. I got up, grabbing at my leg that felt like it had just been filleted. But thank the Lord I still had my shorts on.

Turns out there was some serious foreshadowing happening on the beach while I was in the water. Two surfer girls walked by Matt and our friend Jess, saying something to them along the lines of, "She's never going to make it past that break point." Really wish they would have communicated that to me. Another friend was telling her surfer husband how badly it looked like I was getting thrashed. Given another couple minutes, I'm pretty sure he would have helped me. Sadly, all of this foreshadowing happened simultaneously with my leg bursting open like a juicy hotdog (doctor's words, not mine). While I was flipping around under the water, the board fin was slicing through my leg.

I started motioning for help, though no one really seemed to think I needed it. Nate grabbed the surfboard while Jess undid the leash and joked to Matt that he should scoop me up, which he did all Baywatch style. He carried me to the lifeguard station, and I took my hand off my leg revealing the gaping hole. I couldn't look at it, but l did see yellow fat oozing between my fingers. Never a good sign. It was poor lifeguard boy's first day, and he had no idea what to do. His initial gasp was a bit difficult for me to hear, but I think we did a pretty good job talking him through it from there. HA! I told him that he'd be able to use this as an example of what not to do in the future. Big surprise, I say a lot of really stupid things when I'm in shock. Poor Matt curled into the fetal position for a time to keep from passing out while my friend Brooklyn held my foot like a champ until the EMTs arrived. There was just a lot of great teamwork.

Matt and I spent the next five hours on a day-date in the hospital while the friends took care of the kids for the rest of the day. We had various hospital staff visiting us all day long to see my wound while we waited for the doctor. It was just as a hospital by the beach should be. Laid back with surfer dude nurses telling us about their own injuries. They pumped me with a nice IV drip of antibiotics and painkillers that made for a most pleasant experience. Seriously, I think Matt and I made a lifelong friend in our nurse, Dan, who said he enjoyed taking care of people that make positive contributions to society. Thanks, dude! And, we shared many laughs with my doctor as he irrigated and stitched up my leg.

Yes, this sucks, but I can't help but be very, very thankful that it wasn't worse. I could have sliced my head open. Or broken my neck. I was such an idiot for attempting to go out there on my own. Lesson learned. We're not meant to conquer life on our own. We need to depend on others. So here I sit on my couch unable to move for the next several days but accepting the help offered. One of my best friends from Syracuse was in town with her family, and literally spent the weekend taking care of me and hanging out on the couch. Libby and Brian, you guys are great. Thank you to all of you that have cooked for us, cleaned for us, watched our kids, and just have been willing to step in to help. You're very much appreciated. Love you!

For the Love.

In about a month and a half I head to Southeast Asia.

Insane.

It's hard for me to believe this is actually happening, which I think is why I'm just posting about it now. Back in October I wrote this post, having no idea what it would lead to. When I said it would only be a week of my life, I should have known better. 

I'll be traveling with a few other people with an organization called Love146. Their vision is the abolition of child sex slavery and exploitation. You can read their story here. We will be meeting with prevention staff and partners, seeing firsthand the work they are doing to stop trafficking before it happens and how those that have been exploited are able to find healing and restoration. One of the things I've been most impressed about Love146 is how hard they work at implementing long term solutions that are not just knee-jerk responses to a very difficult issue. They work hard to ensure survivors are treated with dignity and respect and have a strong policy against using manipulative fundraising tactics. They also network with many other respected groups to fight for those who have been exploited. 

When I started this whole process, I was expecting a hop over to Central America to love on some kids, which would have been a great experience, I'm sure. However, this runs so much deeper, as it's the beginning of a relationship with this organization that involves starting up a task force here at home. Our first meeting is next month. The purpose of this group is to connect people that are passionate about fighting this injustice so that we can act in tangible ways. Love146 provides many resources for building a team of people committed to staying informed about what is happening locally and abroad, and for raising money to support prevention programs and aftercare for those that are healing. 

The trafficking of human beings is a 32 billion dollar industry. Two children are sold every minute. In the U.S. alone, over 100,000 kids are forced into prostitution or pornography every year. 

This isn't about numbers though. 

It's about people.

Created in the image of God, being exploited and dehumanized in unspeakable ways. 

It's about hope.

That Jesus truly is Lord over this earth. 

It's subversive.

Not found in the forces and powers the world expects.

God allows us a part in what He is doing in our world.

Crazy.

I've said so many times before, Matt and I are learning what it means to be caught up in the extravagant love of God. It's a never-ending story. We don't want to just be consumers, but as we partake in the love and grace that he pours on us, we share in it with others. We're stumbling through what it means to live differently in our day to day lives. It's in these small steps that the life-changing decisions are cultivated and brought to fruition. I'm so very thankful for family and friends that have shown their love and support throughout this process. Matt and I have been so encouraged. Please pray for us as we start up this task force and as I travel. It's no secret that I struggle with fear. I'm thankful for a God that meets us in our issues and carries us through.

Love vs. Fear

I guess it's been a while since I've blogged. One of these days I'll tackle my inconsistency. The last month has just been filled with enjoying the beautiful Florida sunshine, family, and friends. I love how our spring comes in February. After being away from long winters for a few years now, I don't know if I could handle the gloominess of it again. I need early reminders that there's something new blooming just ahead.

Even with the sunshine, winter felt long in some ways, as I've spent the last several months processing different ideas and trying to figure out what it means to live what I believe, knowing what is worth fighting for and what things I need to let go of. It will be a lifelong battle to engage, but I refuse to lose it to apathy, fear or believing that I'm alone in this struggle.

Fear.
It can be so gripping.

I've written about it before, but it's visited me lately more than I care to admit. There have been reminders that it doesn't have to paralyze me, from sermons to status updates on facebook. Those things are not what draw me out of it though.

Perfect love casts out all fear.

"Love protects, defends, restores, and empowers."

This is a mantra that has been in front of me lately, and to be honest, I've had some trouble with it. I get the protects, defends, and restores part, but I've had issue with the word empowers. What does that mean? Empowers for what?

To cast out fear.
To not live by it.

Love empowers us to act in ways that we cannot on our own. When I'm stuck in my fear, it's always the love of someone from the Body of Christ that helps break me free from it. So often in recent days I have been shown how loved I am.

I am loved.
Wow.
It's one thing to hear it, it's quite another to see it.
Because I am loved, I don't have to fear the what ifs that plague me.


Love empowers.
Because with it comes responsibility. When others give you their full support and love, you want to do well by them. You want to live in ways that you didn't realize you were capable of. Not for yourself but for the sake of others. We can love and live beyond fear because we were all loved first.


Thank you, Jesus, for your perfect love that frees us from the bondage of fear.

Till We Have Faces

"I knew that all this had only been a preparation. Some far greater matter was upon us...the air was growing brighter and brighter about us; as if something had set it on fire. Each breath I drew let into me new terror, joy, overpowering sweetness. I was pierced through and through with the arrows of it. I was being unmade. I was no one...the earth and stars and sun, all that was or will be, existed for his sake. And he was coming. The most dreadful, the most beautiful, the only dread and beauty there is, was coming...."

Every couple years since my sophomore year in college I've reread Till We Have Faces, by C.S. Lewis. It's a retelling of the Cupid and Psyche myth, from the perspective of Psyche's older sister, Orual (Or You All??). The first part of the story is her accusations to the gods for their injustice while the second part concedes that she was wrong. With Psyche's help, she's able to see glimpses of the hidden things that she wasn't able to see or understand along the way.

It's so good.

I know some day we'll see with our veils lifted. This life is a shadow, a glimpse of things to come where all things will be reconciled under Christ. Some days that just doesn't seem possible. Will God really reconcile all things to himself? I mean, all things?

We long for justice, mercy and healing in the big things. Children that are trafficked, starving, sick and dying. All creation groans in anticipation. All of this waiting and working intermingle in a way that just awakens more longing.

How long, God? How long till all is set right?

We can't ignore the every day tasks in the same way that we can't shut our eyes from the big things. Yet it seems there are so many things working against us. We're smack dab in the middle of the tension of now, trying to navigate what it looks like to love our spouses, families, friends and those around us. We try to reconcile our own story within the Great Story, but it looks different for each person. If we are to be God's hands and feet of reconciliation for these huge matters of injustice, we have to constantly be in the midst of reconciliation ourselves as we operate in unity within our community of faith and family units. No two people see everything exactly the same way, yet we still have to operate as one. It's this constant, often complicated dance of giving and learning what is best for the whole, not just one part, as every decision we make effects the others. The family, the local church, the universal church can only function and flow by constantly giving up our own power, bending over backwards and encourage each other while listening to the rhythm of the others, joining in where the others lack. I just wish there was less bickering within the evangelical community and more encouraging. I mean, I get it. It's hard to function well within a marriage where there's only two people; how can churches that are full of so many different people actually function well?

I sometimes wonder if all our differences hold us back from our full potential. I think of all that we could accomplish if we were on the SAME PAGE. Then again, I wonder if maybe that's just the wrong way of looking at life. Maybe we can't handle our full potential; if we're always striving to reach it than life becomes about us, what we can accomplish. Maybe our differences are what keep us from thinking too highly of ourselves, thinking we have all the right answers for how things should be.

It seems we could find more ways to celebrate our differences in a way that shapes us into people that put others in front of ourselves. Instead of arguing about who is to take the lead, letting the Holy Spirit take the lead. Wouldn't it be better to have a group of people outdoing each other in how well we serve one another, instead of focusing on who leads who?

When all is said and done, when the shadows are engulfed by Light, and we see things as they are, not as the distortions that we've made them, I think we'll be surprised by how all of our crazy lives fit together as one. And we'll be unmade, realizing that we are no one and yet we matter, not for our sake, but for the sake of the One who hung the stars. We'll be caught up in the dance, no longer having two left feet or falling over each other trying to lead.

"This is our King! The Lamb who died, so we don't have to- our Rescuer. All honor and glory! Forever and ever! And every creature everywhere, in heaven and on earth and under the earth joins in..."

My Current Top Ten

I love listening to my kids sing around the house. I'm not big on kidsy songs though. My mom made the grandkids a dvd of family pictures and video with Praise Baby songs in the background, which I can handle because of it's sentimental value. I'm with my children all day long though, so if we're going to have a soundtrack for our lives, it can't be a chorus of women singing nursery songs. 

I hope this doesn't make me a bad mom.

Each time we hear a new song, Em asks what it means. I love this. Jax just closes his eyes and throws his head around. I love this too.

Here's our current top ten, along with a favorite lyric or two.

Beautiful Things by Gungor- "Could all that is lost ever be found, Could a garden come up from this ground at all...You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of the dust. You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of us. All around hope is springing up from this old ground. Out of chaos life is being found in You..."

Come By Here by Shaun Groves- "The widows need life to raise the dead and all the beggars plead for their daily bread. Oh we're all singing please, God will you come by here? Come, come and meet us here. Come and touch our tears that we may weep no more. Come, come and meet our pain, come and lift our lame that we may limp no more. Come that we may want no more."

We Will All Be Changed by Seryn- "We can shape but can't control these possibilities to grow weeds amongst the push and pull waiting on the wind to take us. We can write with ink and pen but we will sew with seeds  instead, starting with words we've said and we will all be changed..."

The Cave by Mumford & Sons- "But I will hold on hope, and I won't let you choke on the noose around your neck. And I'll find strength in pain and I will change my ways. I'll know my name as it's called again...I know my call despite my faults and despite my growing fears...So make your siren's call and sing all you want, I will not hear what you have to say..."

Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars- "Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine...I don't have a choice but I still choose you."

Sigh No More by Mumford & Sons- "Love that will not betray you, dismay or enslave you, it will set you free, be more like the man you were made to be."

How He Loves by David Crowder- "And we are his portion and He is our prize, drawn to redemption by the grace in his eyes. If grace is an ocean we're all sinking."

Toes by Zac Brown Band- "Concrete and cars are their own prison bars like this life I'm living in, but the plane brought my farther, I'm surrounded by water and I'm not going back again...life is good today..."

Something Beautiful by Needtobreathe- "And the water is rising quick and for years I was scared of it. We can't be sure when it will subside but I won't leave your side..."

Dancing in the Minefields by Andrew Peterson- "'I do' are the two most famous last words, the beginning of the end, but to lose your life for another I've heard is a good place to begin 'cause the only way to find your life is to lay your own life down and I believe it's an easy price for the life that we have found. And we're dancing in the minefields, we're sailing in the storm. This is harder than we dreamed but I believe that's what the promise is for. So when I lose my way, find me. When I loose love's chains, bind me. At the end of all my faith, till the end of all my days. When I forget my name, remind me. 'Cause we bear the light of the Son of Man so there's nothing left to fear, so I'll walk with you in the shadowlands till the shadows disappear. 'Cause he promised not to leave us and his promises are true so in the face of all this chaos, baby, I can dance with you."

The Art of Tapping Out

There's something I've been trying to write for a week now but just can't find the words. I've spent the last several days staying up late, writing during nap time, filling space with thoughts that I can't knit together.

It's wearing me out.

So, I'm letting it go.

So my kids don't wake to a tired, grumpy mom.

So I don't snap at my husband.

So I'm not so freaking emo from an overused, under rested brain.

I'll return to these ideas after they've had more time to incubate because I want to use words wisely.

To lift up, not tear down.

To encourage, not frustrate.

But I'm not there yet.

For now, I choose rest.

First though, back to the every day tasks that have been neglected.

Mopping.

Scrubbing.

Dusting.

Laughing.

For the love, I need a good belly laugh.

I'm right, I'm wrong. Just Listen.

Second semester twelfth grade basic English was one of the most difficult classes I taught. The students had checked out long before entering the room and just showed up because my class was a requirement to graduate. Some were there because they had failed it the semester before. There was passive aggressiveness oozing from every direction. And sometimes downright aggression. Every time I was called a biotch by some angry teenager I had to remind myself that it wasn't really me that they hated. It was probably more of a projection of their own self hatred. At least that's what I'd tell myself so I didn't curl up in the corner of my classroom and cry.

There was always this one project that we did that allowed me to see past the teenage angst in them. It was a reflective piece in which I found the meaning of their name and they had to determine what it would mean if they were to actually live by their name. I asked them to share their story and how different experiences and relationships had shaped them. It exposed their hopes, fears, and long list of failures that already plagued so many of their lives. It gave me a framework in which to look at them for the rest of the semester. No longer was the sleepy girl with the permascowl just some lazy kid that refused to participate. She was a lonely ex-girlfriend who had always been pro-life until she got pregnant. Her parents and boyfriend refused to support her decision to keep her baby so she made the choice that she never thought she would. There were the countless number of kids whose dads had walked out on them. Some admitted to numbing their pain with drugs, alcohol, and cutting.

It's easy to disregard someone who you don't see as connected to a greater story. When they're just a name,  a face, and a strong opinion or attitude, you can just blow them off. When you're able to see the history behind all these abstract pieces of information, you can see them as the person they are, and it becomes much more difficult to vilify them. 

When we fail to listen to others, to allow ourselves to know them, our relationships become about power. We need to be heard because what we have to say is more important than the other person; we're right, they're wrong and they must be made aware of this. No one flourishes in this type of environment though. This was a big struggle with my students. They always felt powerless. People in those situations lash out or disengage.  I think this is why we have such trouble forming authentic relationships with those that are different from us. There's the tendency to want to control their thinking, to mold them into our image. We do this all the time and journey through life with an "us" and "them" mentality. It's easy to identify this in groups like the religious right, who use politics as a means of power to control the culture. Then again, I can vilify them as a group while failing to take responsibility for how I do this myself. For me, it's more covert than needing to win an argument or debate because I'm not wired that way. Instead, I internalize and just write people off. I stop listening. I don't think it comes naturally for anyone to give up the need to control and be right. If I'm not consciously asking the Spirit of God to lead me in this, I fail every time. I've seen how I need to relinquish my power in this area and allow for God to transform me. Only through this transforming power of Christ, found in giving up our power, can we actually play a part in transforming the world.

One Love. One Life, Together.

The day that Matt and I got married was by far one of the best days of my life. Obviously, much of this was wrapped in the fact that we were starting an adventure, three years in the making, and pledging our commitment to each other before God, family and friends. Engaged girls are always told not to get caught up in the wedding day. After all, it's about the marriage, not the day. While I fully understand the sentiment behind that, I say it's hogwash. When Em gets married, I want her to get absolutely swept up in the joy of the day.

I'm not a planner. I fly by the seat of my pants and tend to leave projects unfinished as I get bored with details, but when it came to my wedding day, I had every detail meticulously thought out. This day was a climax to two separate stories that both of us had been living that were now combining into one. Two different worlds colliding in a way that would forever bind us together. I wanted every person in attendance to know Matt and I as fully as possible. I also wanted each person to know that they were there because they had played a special part in our lives. The ceremony was deeply personal from the song I walked down the aisle to, to our fathers praying over us with our moms and wedding party. At the reception, we showed where we came from with pictures of our parents and grandparents framing the table that had the seating assignments, which were in the form of titles corresponding with stories from Matt and my dating relationship. Our favor was a CD that we put together with meaningful songs and a note explaining how much we appreciated each person that had made the point of not only sharing this day with us, but sharing life with us as well.

What I loved so much about our wedding day was having everyone we loved in one place. For one day, all the people that were important to us in so many different ways were unified because of their love for us. I mean, as egotistical as this may sound, isn't that the case? As the dancing winded down and Matt was ready to whisk me away for a whole other sort of unification, I had trouble leaving. So many friends and family in one place just made my heart swell and I didn't want to say goodbye. I loved seeing everyone enjoying each other. I was overwhelmed by the fullness of God that we were able to experience that day.

It's almost as if it was a glimpse of the oneness that we will get to experience...someday. All of that preparation, hard work, and creativity was stitched together in love.

I've been getting scattered glimpses like this in the last couple months as times spent with family and friends has been unifying and encouraging in ways that fill me up and make the difficult and in-between times more manageable. Sometimes it's small, simple things like huge hugs and sloppy kisses from my kids that make the toys cluttering the floor not an obstacle, but a reminder that this space is filled. With love. With hard work. With people that matter. Really, isn't that what's important? We get to live full lives with others, in the fullness of God, learning to embody the part that He has for us, wrapped in Him. I'm once again blown away by the extravagant love of God that not only invites us into His love but allows us to experience it with others. There are many times when I get caught up in life, being a catty woman, and just not seeing people as Jesus sees them. I'm reminded often of the extravagant ways that God works in us, pouring out his grace and strength in ways that we could never imagine on our own. In these moments, I need to stop, drink it all in, and rest in the glimpses that He gives me to see of life as it should be. The ache of knowing we're not there yet but someday...

Confessions

Confession: I have iPhone envy.

It's my dirty little secret. I know it's ridiculous. When I was fifteen it was Doc Martens. Now that I'm thirty, it's a phone. Same idea though. It seems like everyone I know has one and I don't. I understand that a phone won't make my life any better. Really, when I stop to think about it, I don't even want one, which brings me to my second confession: Sometimes I treat not having this phone as my cross to bear.

Have I judged you for your iPhone? Ninety-eight percent of the time, no, but I wouldn't put it past me. I do apologize for this. Sincerely.  

It's not even about the phone. So what if there's a woman who can search the web to answer any random question that my three year old may have during the day. Yes, it would be nice when Emma wants an explanation for everything, to hand her the phone and say, "I'm not sure Em, just ask Siri," but then my child would grow up as the dumb kid because Siri seems to be operating a couple fries short of a Happy Meal if you ask me.

Now Instagram, that's another story. The fact that friends near and far are always posting their sweet pics and liking and commenting on each other's makes me feel like I'm on the outs.

I KNOW.

First world problems at their finest.

My husband has an iPhone, which is even connected to my twitter and fb, so I am essentially on Instagram. But it's his voice, not mine. He chooses the pictures and the captions. Not me. And well, he tends to overpost. I knew I had a problem when we were at Disney the other day and I found myself getting annoyed at him for Instagramming- and it wasn't a matter of him being fully present. It was that he was controlling what was presented about us to the world. 

Completely childish, indeed. I should roll my eyes at my pettiness and move on. I just want to live free though, and I don't think you can really live free until you identify the root causes of things even as silly as coveting a hunk of technology. It's times like this that make me step back and take inventory of my life and ask, "What the heck is wrong with me??"

I'm part of a generation that prides itself on being real and authentic, yet we hold so tightly to controlling how we are perceived by others. I want to connect with people in deep, meaningful relationships, which I feel like I am doing in many ways. It just takes so much time and cultivation. Sometimes it's not fun. People make things so darn complicated. Communication isn't just accepted at face value. Apart from sorting through what is said or eliminated, you have to figure out what is meant by tones and expressions.  Then when you add several people to the mix, the challenge becomes keeping all these different personalities and people with preconceived notions about each other happy. It just gets tiring. Social media makes it so easy to pull away and yet still give the illusion that you're connecting. It's so much easier for me to be content looking at my friend's kid playing with bubbles, leave a witty comment, and never call her up to hear what's going on in her life. Real life relationships are slow. And deliberate. And can't be contained in 140 characters or less.

Really, my iPhone envy is about me letting go of the desire to control the circumstances that lead to (nonexistent) perfect relationships. Whether that's controlling what others think of me based on silly things I post, or keeping up with every mundane event of a friend's Tuesday afternoon, it doesn't matter. Real relationships are formed by saying the wrong things and having to apologize for being insensitive. They're strengthened by hearing each other's laughter, not seeing their LOL. The relationships that see you as you are, not the tidy online version of yourself. The people you choose and who choose you back. A phone won't make it any easier to connect with those that I love. It'll just make me compete with my husband to make our family look hip on Instagram, which would only confuse people since we have very different definitions of cool. I'm sure the iPhone is a great tool for many. Probably not for me at this point though. So, if I'm ever frothing at the mouth staring at your phone, do me a favor and punch me in the face. I'll sure I'll thank you for it later.

Happy Birthday, Boo.

Today my husband enters the last year of his twenties. To him, this is a big deal. To me, not so much. I've comfortably adjusted to my thirties, so as he plans out his "Thirty by Thirty," I can just sit back and watch him squirm through the last leg of a decade that I've had the privilege of walking through with him.

How things have changed since I met that nineteen year old with floppy hair and cargo pants.

It's hard to believe where life has brought us over these past ten years together. So much has happened, but I'm so glad that we've been able to do it together. I guess I've never really understood the mentality of figuring out who you are before starting your life with someone. The twenties are such tumultuous years as it is, I can't imagine trying to figure out everything alone. The fun has come through sharing life with someone who I know has my back no matter what. I love the fact that we have a lifetime together. We don't have to set ourselves up for failure by thinking our relationship has to be perfect right now. I know how far we've come, and I hope we stay on the same trajectory. We have a great marriage, but it's come from a whole lot of hard work on both sides. I love that I married a man that is willing to grow and learn with me. The reality is, we're so different in many ways. We're not one of those couples that never has anything to talk about. In fact, it's quite the opposite. We talk. A lot. We discuss. A lot. We disagree. A lot. But we love a whole lot too, and so it works. We chose each other years ago and we continue to choose each other every day.

So thank you, babe, for dancing through life with me. Thank you for loving me and the kids with your actions. You're a great man who is fun, sincere, diligent, humble, and strong. I truly enjoy being around you. Thank you for getting up before the sun so that you can come home earlier to spend time with us at night. Thank you for cultivating relationships with those around you, even when it seems there isn't any more time that can possibly be sucked from a day. People are important and I'm glad that you strive to make them a priority. Thank you for getting down on the floor with your children and chasing them around after a long day. This time is so important. Thank you for making up stories that make them laugh. You are such a great husband and dad. I'm proud of the man you are and the man you're becoming.

I love you so much and can't wait to see what's in store for your next ten years.