Category Archives: BLOG

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October 1, 2014

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When Desperation Drives You to Finally ASK

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EVIDENTLY, this is my personal website. As in, MINE. ALL MINE.

Yet I’ve been so utterly and completely focused on Be Still Be Free that I’ve let this poor little site wither like a grape. And now we’re past raisin stage and into full-on petrification.

And I know I pop in over here from time-to-time and declare no more! I’m back and I’m committed! And then the empty words ring hollow and leave a mighty echo.

[Echo…]

[Echo…]

I have no strategy, plan or even shred of determination to rectify this, sadly. But here I am again…popping in to declare I’m back! For now! And to let you know I’m sharing over at BE today as we wrap up our series Be Bold and Conquer.

Here’s a brief peek:

She was a guest speaker at our Bible Study…an elegant woman with empathetic eyes and graceful demeanor, and a southern accent that lilted words and softened the convictions that always came as she spoke the truth. Plainly.
She words were full of authority and grace, with understanding and yearning. I sat mesmerized and unable to blink as she shared about Jesus – her Jesus – and how He changed her. Utterly and completely changed her.
For the next several days I struggled to stand as my weary bones carried my heavy heart. As I’d shuffle along throughout each day, she’d appear in my thoughts, blowing across my mind like a refreshing breeze. I needed something…that much I knew – and one day I suddenly realized I needed her.
On an it’s-almost-fall morning, with a cup of coffee in my hands, I found her number and called her. I stumbled over my words until I could coherently state,
I need a mentor. I desperately and immediately need a mentor.
Okay, she replied with that southern lilt and graceful demeanor. Let’s meet for lunch and we’ll see what God says about this.
Over squash soufflé and sweet tea with extra ice, she told me she’d been praying and that God nodded Yes, you should mentor this lost and desperate girl (although maybe I imagined the last part). And we developed a schedule and a plan and a list of things I needed guidance with.
She left with a very, very long list.

To continue reading, just click here! And I’m looking forward to seeing you back here in oh, I dunno…maybe another three months or so?

In the meantime, I would LOVE to see you over at BE. It is my heartbeat and favorite place, and I think you’d really, really love it.

Love you, friends!

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June 25, 2014

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Loving Yourself Enough To Do The Scary Things

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The arena was jam-packed with women wearing their Sunday and Monday and Thursday and Saturday best. Their accessories matched their pocketbooks which matched their shoes which matched their Bible covers. An arena full of sopranos and altos and even a smattering of tenors harmonized during worship and their heads nodded during the lesson and their wallets poured out money during the love offering. Hands were raised in re-commitment to Jesus and tissues were dabbed across blurry eyes and when it was time to break it was as if there was one giant exhale in unison.

We strolled through the lobby deciding what to eat for lunch, my friend and I. We dodged women in their Tuesday and Friday best with their accessories that matched their shoes. Some were impatient with the lines at the food stands, some were frustrated with getting their pocketbooks (which matched their accessories) bumped. Some couldn’t believe there wasn’t enough lunch-time seating for all seven hundred million women jammed into the arena.

My friend and I grabbed lunch and searched for a place to sit among the bright patterns and matching Bible covers. As soon as we took our first bite, we saw him. He couldn’t have been more than 21 and he was dirty and his eyes were glazed and his shoes had holes and he appeared homeless. He walked the aimlessly amid the maze of nodded heads and tear-stained tissues trying to talk to the women, but was largely ignored or smiled at politely as they turned back to their conversation.

My friend and I looked at each other and I knew what she was thinking and she knew what I was thinking but we were both petrified of each other’s thoughts, afraid to say it out loud. I don’t remember who broke first, but the words rang loudly in our ears,

 “Should we pray for him?”

Click here to keep reading — I’m sharing over at my second home, Be Still Be Free today!

 

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June 23, 2014

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Loving Yourself and Cleaning House

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[tap, tap, tap]

Is this thing on?

Pardon me while I clean out the cobwebs over here. I mean, my gosh at the stale scent ova hee-ah.

I’ve neglected this place. I really, really have. I miss writing something fierce, but my creative cup is still getting filled over at my second love, Be Still Be Free. And yet I’ve been remiss in tying these two homes together consistently.

BUT NO MORE.

This week over at Be, we’re talking about loving yourself. We’re nearing the end of our series Be Loved and Live, and let me tell you — it’s been a huge blessing to me personally. If you want to start at the beginning and catch up, just click over to listen to each of the podcasts:

Next week we’ll explore what it looks like to truly Love Others. After that, we’re on to a whole new series that is 100% my heartbeat and passion:

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I hope you’ll hop over to check out the amazing things God is doing with Be Still Be Free, and I’ll do a better job of bridging these homes together.

In the meantime, I’ll be here opening all the windows and beating dust out of the rugs — and overall, just bringing this site back to life.

Be free today. Love y’all.

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April 30, 2014

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490 Planks

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I did it again.

I took my eyes off the mountain for just a minute and the pull of the valley brought me back low. The chaotic drama woke up a mama bear from hibernation, and though the situation had nothing to do with me at all, I threw my sword on the ground and was ready to fall on it with a mighty vengeance.

My heart lashed out and rehearsed a thousand scenarios of what I would say and how I would respond and countless minutes — maybe even hours — were spent in conversations that would never actually take place.

Time I should have spent praying was instead invested in scouring the Bible for verses that would provide justification to my cause…confirmation that my anger was righteous and “godly.”

In my frantic, passive-aggressive search for verses to ambiguously confront, I found The Verse. But it turned out it wasn’t a verse that applied to the situation…

…it was instead a verse God applied to me:

Don’t think you can decide on your own what is right and what is wrong. Respect the Eternal; turn and run from evil. (Prov 3:7)

#ouch

My head hung low in resignation as the conviction stung deep in my heart.

Am I ever going to get it right the first time?

Don’t ignore the wooden plank in your eye, while you criticize the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eyelashes. (Matt 7:4)

“But God,” I pleaded, “My frustration and disappointment are justified! True injustice happened. It’s not fair!” (I might have clenched my fists and stomped my feet, too…I can’t be sure.)

You must forgive not seven times, but seventy times seven. (Matt 18:22)

I despise this answer. I know in the depths of my heart it’s true, but still I fight it. I want restitution, I want payback. I want to shout and maybe even wield a pitchfork. Maybe.

When will I learn? When will I learn that God holds me just as accountable for my reactions as He holds those who were wrong? That I do not have permission to turn around and engage in the same behavior?

Growing in God is JUST SO HARD.

#whine

This little exchange with God happened just hours after prepping for an upcoming talk about climbing your mountain to gain clearer perspective…climbing in order to be transformed…to be closer to Jesus.

So He gently began reminding me of everything I had passionately rehearsed earlier…

  • That in the valley difficulties seem larger than life and insurmountable
  • That we have to get to the mountain to gain godly and holy perspective
  • That when we get proper perspective, we see that nothing in the valley is bigger or badder or tougher than God is

My head hung low in humility as repentance oozed from my heart.

And then I heaved a big sigh and started climbing my mountain.

I call to You from the end of the earth when my heart is weak. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. (Psalm 61:2)

Getting to the top was everything I needed.

From the Rock, I can see past the immediacy of a frustrating situation.

From the Rock, I can see how these million little angry dots soften and melt into an entire glorious canvas, painted by a Master.

From the Rock, the shenanigans in the valley fall into the correct order of priority — under God.

From the Rock, I’m more concerned with getting 490 planks out of my eyes so I can enjoy the breathtaking view at the top. (click to tweet that)

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I’m so thankful that God loves me too much to let me remain stuck in a mentally destructive valley. I’m so grateful for His gentle reminders to look up and to see life through holy lenses and proper perspective.

And I’m so thrilled He doesn’t hold the planks in my own eyes against me…forgiving me much, much more than seventy times seven…every single time.

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April 14, 2014

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The Playground and the Meadow

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The playground has a castle and a drawbridge and three slides and a climbing wall. There are tire swings and baby swings and regular swings and even big red chair swings the adults can sneak onto if there aren’t a lot of kids around.

When we’re at the playground, my kids are wild and rambunctious and run around yelling and playing and leave every ounce of energy there. The surrounding fence keeps them IN and they swing and slide and climb and run and there’s just so much to DO there.

The Meadow is a wide-open space with exposed granite and a gentle stream. It was made to be a ‘backyard’ for our mountainous neighborhood full of wild hills and forests of trees. There’s one pond and one picnic table and six Adirondack chairs. The stream has tadpoles and the pond has rocks at the bottom from two summers ago when my littlest toddled over, crudely tossing in every pebble he could find.

An army of trees circle the Meadow – more a protective shield than a boundary line – and cast long, lean shadows over the stream and the pond and the exposed granite. In the late afternoon, the sun peeks through with a wide smile like it’s trying not to get caught in a game of hide and seek.

In the Meadow, my kids imagine they are Susan and Edmund exploring Narnia, defeating the White Witch valiantly. They chase butterflies and bring me dandelion bouquets and pretend the big oak is their secret hide out. He chases after her, desperate to be big like she is, and she holds his hand as they cross the slippery rocks so he doesn’t fall and scrape his knee yet again.

In the Meadow, there isn’t as much to DO – there are no swings, or slides, or castles – but there’s so much to BE. In the Meadow, they are free to Be imaginative, Be together, Be relational, Be intentional.

They have fun DO-ing together at the playground, but love BE-ing together at The Meadow.

“He lets me rest in the meadow grass and leads me beside the quiet streams. He gives me new strength. He helps me do what honors him the most.” Psalm 23:2-3

I get caught up in the doing of the playground, too. My playground is ministry and work and friends and family and home. It’s joyous and blessed and holy and necessary. It can become a playground of To-Do’s though, if I’m not careful.

Read the rest over at Compassion That Compels today!