My First Five Minute Friday - BARE!

Today's writing prompt: BARE

Ready, Set Write!

Bare is a scary word. It's a word I came late to living. In the last year I have come to embrace this word, which to me means being vulnerable, being authentic, being my true self - even if that self isn't as acceptable to those around me as my cleaned up cheerful self.

I credit much of this new way of life to the writings of Brene Brown. When I read her book, The Gift of Imperfection, my world was rocked. I read the book in one sitting - on a drive home to Boise from Portland, Oregon (my husband was driving!). I think I read half the book aloud to him with each segment starting on a gasp of discovery. 

I next read Brene's book Daring Greatly, and learned how much of who I am is influenced by the shame I feel. I so wish I could have read something like this when my children were young, so if you're a parent of young children, please grab onto this book!

For me living vulnerably is summed up so well, in the words of Carl Medearis, "I know the one place I can't go wrong is the place where Jesus is.  I can be weak, sinful, foolish, and even rebellious.  I can fail others, ruin ministries, fumble my work, and still, I cannot go wrong when I stand with fear and trembling, knowing only Jesus."

Bare - It's not so scary after all.

Always Hope - Always Always Always Hope!

Are you ever amazed at the themes different stages of life bring? I am. For a while now it seems everywhere I turn I hear the word hope. In music, sermons, and scripture hope seems to be a hot topic. This word hope has a special hold of my heart. If my children allowed it, I'd have the words Always Hope tattooed on my wrist.  For me hope is intensely personal. After a long walk in the darkness of a deep depression, I emerged in May 2010 into a world of hope. Hope that light will outshine darkness every day. My journey out of darkness was long and hard fought. It included a great deal of love and never-waivering support from my husband, and the guidance of a gifted therapist. One day I'll share more of that journey but for now, here are some words of hope I love.

But you must return to your God; maintain love and justice and always put your hope in God. Hosea 12:6

But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. 1 Peter 3:15

For God has not given us a spirit of fear: but of power and of love and of sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7

They say you'll find yourself one of these days
As if they know I'm lost and could never be saved
A gamble is what I'll take trading ashes for gold, hoping life will give its sake
Life is too short to stop and stare at the blank page that tells your way

Hold On by Phillip Phillips

In Christ alone, my hope is found

He is my light, my strength, my song

This cornerstone, this solid ground

Firm through the fiercest drought and storm

What heights of love, what depths of peace

When fears are stilled, when strivings cease

My comforter, my all-in-all

Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ Alone by Keith Getty

"If you will trust God with your anguish it will birth something precious to you. It will birth something that you will not trade back." Beth Moore

And so I will always hope.

Five Months Gone

It's been five speedy months since I last wrote, Maybe We've Forgotten How to be Nice, from the stifling heat of an August day in Georgia. Today, it is a crisp 7 degrees, and snow blankets our hometown of Boise. It is not for want of writing or lack of subject matter that this blog has gone quiet; but merely the pace of life. Here are a few things that can keep one from writing regularly.

Welcoming home a dearly loved
son from Army OCS.

Launching a sweet daughter into
her senior year of high school.

Moving into a new home a mere three days before my dear husband flew to New Zealand and Australia for two weeks of work. (No photo can do justice to the crazy of this life event!)

Traveling with the sweet daughter and her
senior class to Europe for ten
fun-filled, sleep deprived days.

Traveling to Washington with both of my dear 
children to tour a potential college for the sweet girl.
Note big brother's Boise State hat. Loyal alumnus he is.

Hosting 15 dear ones for Thanksgiving.

Hosting a small group Bible study/missional community in our home each week.

Reading, studying and learning how to live wholeheartedly, with honesty and vulnerability. 

Growing ever closer to the sweet love Jesus pours out on us all, and seeing that love pour out of myself, my precious family and our small group friends as we jumped feet first into service for our refugee friends who are learning and adapting to life in the United States.

"I get the invitation every morning when I wake up to actually live a life of complete engagement, a life of whimsy, a life where love does. . . It's the invitation to actually live, to fully participate in this amazing life for one more day."  Bob Goff

Thank you Jesus. I accept.

Maybe We've Forgotten How to Be Nice

We're in Columbus, Georgia this week for Caleb's graduation from OCS at Ft. Benning. While here I wanted to visit Chick-fil-A as I've heard great stories of their amazing chicken sandwiches, and in Georgia there appears to be a Chick-fil-A on every other corner.

Problem is, many people are angry at Chick-fil-A CEO Dan Cathy's statement in which he said he supports, "the biblical definition of the family unit." I wanted to post a Facebook status about this fun venture into southern living. Like the fact that the store was crowded to overflowing because unbeknownst to us an "anti protest" was taking place at Chick-fil-A restaurants across America. But I hesitated to say anything for fear of offending someone with my chicken eating ways. I just wanted a sandwich and was uncomfortable that it seemed I was making a political statement.

Later in the day we visited the Infantry Museum, a moving tribute to our soldiers. As a kindly volunteer described the various exhibits to us, she inquired where we lived and asked why we were at the fort. We replied our son is graduating tomorrow from OCS. After congratulating us enthusiastically her parting words were, "Tell your son thank you for his service." Several people have said this to me since Caleb joined the Army, and it always brings tears to my eyes. I don't think of the enormity of this life my son has chosen until someone thanks me for his service. But it is a big deal.

So here's the thing. My son chooses to serve his country, to defend our freedom so all of us, you, me, Mr. Cathy, Ellen DeGeneres, etc., etc., can believe whatever we like. It's my responsibility to live each day respectful of your beliefs, whether I agree with them or not. I don't know if boycotting an establishment because of its CEO's personal beliefs is the answer to our disagreements about life, but I do know being unkind is not the answer.

By the way the spicy chicken deluxe sandwich was fantastic.  Maybe I'll head on over to JC Penny later and show my support for Ellen (don't get me started on the mean-spirited boycott of JC Penny by Christians), who ends each of her shows with these words, "Be kind to one another."

D-Day, Omaha Beach, and a Thankful Heart

"This embattled shore, portal of freedom, is forever hallowed by the ideals, the valor and the sacrifices of our fellow countrymen." American Cemetery, Omaha Beach.

Today I visited the D-Day beaches in Normandy with my family. I have been looking forward to this day and dreading it, knowing it would be difficult. I had prepared for the day by reading the book The Longest Day, which tells the story of June 6, 1944. That day when thousands gave their lives to bring freedom to millions. I knew what happened here. And I didn’t. Reading a book could never prepare me for standing amidst 9,387 white-marble crosses and Stars of David.

It’s difficult to look squarely into such pain and sacrifice, all the while knowing each man whose life is represented here was a son, brother, husband, father, or grandson. But we must. It's how we honor them.

We walked to the far corner of the cemetery, knowing it is likely the least visited. We wanted to see the names of those men who gave everything for us.

So I walked and walked past hundreds, thousands of crosses. Saying their names. Thanking them. It wasn’t easy and there were tears. As I sat on the sands of Omaha beach this afternoon, I prayed I would live a more purposeful life for having been here today. That I would live a more thankful life.

So I honor their sacrifice by sharing in this tiny way what they experienced. Remembering their lives. Their deaths. Saying their names, so they can live on in my memory. In my thankfulness. In my freedom.

Thank you William

Thank you Jerome

Thank you Michael

Thank you for my freedom.

Evening Taps

What About Me

I was having a look at my blog this evening - and you should know that I am entirely captivated by the look of my blog. Silly because it's just a free blog template from Google's Blogger, but I am enthralled by its design and color. I think that may speak to my level of self-absorption but let's pretend otherwise please. My intent was to update the "About Me" portion of my blog. I say "update" but really what I mean is "write," because currently there is one entire line on the "About Me" page. I can only describe writing my own bio in this way - yuk!

So here's what I wrote instead.

I want to wake up every day giving my life to God, asking him to use me to make someone's life better that day. That's what I want. Honestly, though that doesn't always happen. Like everyone I have my issues or what I call "my stuff," because you know this is real life and it's messy. Much of the time I'm entirely too self-absorbed, critical, cranky, scared, worried and downcast. You may not think so (or maybe you do!) because I'm pretty darn funny (and humble) and funny can hide all manner of things, but it is so.

In all this imperfection, I find so much comfort in these words from Carl Medearis, "I know the one place I can't go wrong is the place where Jesus is.  I can be weak, sinful, foolish, and even rebellious.  I can fail others, ruin ministries, fumble my work, and still, I cannot go wrong when I stand with fear and trembling, knowing only Jesus."

"Oh, thank God - he's so good! His love never runs out." Psalm 107:1

"Come near to God and he will come near to you." James 4:8

I'll keep working on that "About Me" page.

Surprised in London

Today I had the amazing opportunity, along with Kevin and Rebecca, to attend the evening service at Westminster Abbey in London. I was looking forward to the rare opportunity of worshipping in such an historical location. I mean Westminster was built in 1065, long before the country I call home was a twinkle in the eye of any founding father. Every monarch since William the Conqueror has been crowned in the Abbey, with the exception of Edward V and Edward VIII who were never crowned. That's a lot of history!

The Abbey is beautiful and I sat in my pew taking it all in. It was incredible walking over the green marble memorial stone under which Winston Churchill is buried. And also the memorial stone of Charles Darwin, that trouble-maker!

What I didn't expect was to enjoy the service so immensely but I did. I loved the interactive service, the sit and stand, the readings and responses, the up and down of this traditional service.

I also didn't expect the fantastic message, which The Reverend Peter McGreary Priest Vicar delivered. Reverend McGreary shared a beautiful message about Jesus. He said so often we forget that Christianity is about Jesus. We make it about books and rules and doctrine. We make it a concept, but a concept doesn't have a mother. He asked us to live out the love of Jesus every day, to let Jesus be seen within us. He said, "Be an icon for Jesus." I love that.

I am thankful for the unexpected today, and for the blessing of worshipping my God in such a unique way. I hope that tomorrow as I put some more wear and tear on my poor feet, I will remember to live the love of Jesus in every step.

Their Mom, Every Day

Last week Kevin, Rebecca and I travelled to Ft. Leonard Wood to see our soldier graduate from basic training. We had not seen Caleb since February, and we were just a little happy to see him.

We are not from a military background, so this is all new to us. Rebecca commented, "The base isn't at all what I thought it would be." Apparently, she didn't think there would be Starbucks on base! Caleb was not much changed. He was still a comedian, although a tired comedian. After graduation we took a drive through the rolling hills of the Missouri Ozarks. Many treasured family moments have been car time. Just the four of us, no distractions, family banter, much goofiness. Car talk is the best talk. Caleb wanted to listen to country music, and we indulged him, although at one point Rebecca said, "I can feel my IQ dropping." Meanwhile, brother was able to sing all the words to the deeply meaningful song, "Red Solo Cup," something I believe his sister is still coming to terms with.

Those moments, coming fewer and farther between are treasure.

Sunday was Mother's Day and I've been thinking about motherhood and how it changes so drastically over the years. Those early years of sleeplessness and keeping my children alive in spite of their best efforts at breaking their necks and eating dirt have become something bigger. Now I wonder am I wise enough to mentor and mother these sweet children who have become adults, owning their relationships with God, making their lives meaningful in ways I never imagined at their age. I mean how do I mentor this man and this woman who are in many ways wiser and more thoughtful than me?

"If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God,who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him." James 1:15  This. This is the only way I know.

Each morning I ask God, please make me the mom Caleb needs me to be. Please help me be the mom Rebecca needs me to be today. This has the additional benefit of pushing me into a deeper connection with God, seeking his wisdom, his love, his forgiveness. For "the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control." Galatians 5:22-23

Because this boy

Has become this man

And this girl

Has become this woman

And I want to keep being the mom they need me to be each day.

"I can do all things through him who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13

"In everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Learning My Way Through Life - I Hope

Eugene Peterson’s book, The Pastor is a treasure. In a busy and often chaotic world, his memoirs offer peace and comfort.

My life - the good, the bad, the smart, the stupid stuff I do - all of my experiences have the potential to teach me something. Eugene said he was, “Hanging around this intersection between heaven and earth and seeing what there is to be done.” Well, he sure learned a lot hanging out, like this gem:

The cultural conditions in which I am immersed requires, at least for me, a kind of fierce vigilance to guard my vocation from these cultural pollutants so dangerously toxic to persons who want to follow Jesus in the way that he is Jesus. I wanted my life, both my personal and working life, to be shaped by God and the scriptures and prayer. The Pastor

Many times I have read a book or experienced something that is so exciting to me, so amazing that I share it with everyone I know, only to discover that they just don’t think it’s as fabulous as I do. Turns out Eugene experienced this too:

What I wasn't prepared for was the low level of interest that the men and women in my congregation had in God and the scriptures, prayer and their souls. Not that they didn't believe and value these things; they just weren't very interested. The Pastor 

I had assumed that the primary reason that Christians became part of a congregation had to do with God. They would come to church because they were interested in God and the scriptures, prayer and their souls. And I would be the person expected to give guidance and encouragement to matters of God and scripture, prayer and their souls.  It didn't happen. I couldn't have been farther off the mark. The Pastor

This was sad and startling to me until I realized for many years, that was me. It’s so easy to judge others, to point my finger like the Pharisee in the Bible praying, “Thank you that I’m not like that sinner.” I want so much to see each person as valuable, the way Jesus does – to recognize that Jesus didn’t die just for those people I’m comfortable with or approve of, but for everyone; but seeing others this ways requires that I stop judging them. Eugene knew that:

I was learning to not impose my expectations of what I hoped for them but rather let them reveal to me, as they were able, who they were. The Pastor

The people who made up my congregation had plenty of problems and more than enough inadequacies, but congregation is not defined by its collective problems. Congregation is a company of people who are defined by their creation in the image of God, living souls, whether they know it or not. They are not problems to be fixed, but mysteries to be honored and revered. The Pastor

We wanted to honor that more, to understand and treat our congregations not as a gathering of problems to be fixed but as souls being formed for salvation in a community of worship. Not men and women defined by what we could do for them but by what God was already doing for and in them. The Pastor

I want to have eyes to see and ears to hear what God is doing and saying in their lives. I don't want to judge them in terms of what I think they should be doing. I want to be a witness to what God is doing in their lives, not a schoolmistress handing out grades for how well they are doing something for God. The Pastor

Eugene also reminded me that life with Jesus is not passive:

We don't grow and mature into our Christian life by sitting in a classroom and library, listening to lectures and reading books, or going to church and singing hymns and listening to sermons. We do it by taking the stuff of our ordinary lives, our parents and children, our spouses and friends, our workplaces and fellow workers, our dreams and fantasies, our attachments, our easily accessible gratifications, our depersonalizing of intimate relations, our commodification of living truths into idolatries, taking all this and placing it on the alter of refining fire – our God is a consuming fire – and finding it all stuff redeemed for a life of holiness. The Pastor

Jesus told stories and taught and prayed, not to entertain us or inspire us but to draw us into a participating, believing, listening, loving way of life that was above all, local and personal: prayerful. I wanted to do that too. The Pastor

So do I Eugene. So do I.

Wait a Minute – I’m Supposed to be the Blessing

Yesterday Kevin, Rebecca and I joined The Vineyard Church in Feeding God’s Children. The Vineyard serves a meal to the homeless every Sunday in Julia Davis Park in downtown Boise. This was a first for us. We wanted to spend Easter, not focused on ourselves, but being a blessing. Our little family is incredibly blessed. We know this, and we spend pretty much every day of the year celebrating these blessings in our beautiful home, driving our comfortable car, while wearing new clothes, and eating plenty.

If you read my last post, Am I Really a Christian, you know I’ve been reading a lot of books recently that address what our role really is a followers of Christ. Well, with all that fresh in my mind, it just seemed more appropriate to be a blessing as we celebrated the resurrection of Christ.

Turns out we got it both ways.

We arrived at The Vineyard’s Barnabas Center and met Ben, the crew leader. We were a crew of newbies, as only three volunteers had helped before, but don’t worry everyone was fed eventually.

After loading the trailer, we drove to the park where a group of people was already waiting. Many of them came over to help unload the trailer and set up. Once the first table was put up, a line of about 80 men, women and children formed.

We were each assigned a task. Mine was to hand out the hamburger patties and hot dogs. Each person said thank you to me as they went through line. That was humbling. Most were happy to chat and nearly everyone said, “Happy Easter.”

My favorite part of the day was talking with our new friends like Ken and Lee. Ken was the first person over to help unload the trailer and was especially surprised that we would come help when we don’t attend The Vineyard Church. And Lee, well he was wearing an Army hat and I couldn’t resist telling him our son is in basic training. He then spent the rest our conversation asking about our son.

We really are all the same. We just want someone to listen to our story.

If you want to be really blessed, join the Vineyard on a Sunday afternoon. Maybe we’ll see you there.