Five Minute Friday - Chasing Rest

On Fridays I link up with Lisa-Jo Baker for a writing flash mob. I write for five minutes on the topic Lisa-Jo has chosen. Today's writing prompt is rest.

Rest is elusive. I chase rest and don't always catch it. As a family, we have been purposeful in trying to live a peace filled life. By that I mean keeping the crazy out as much as possible - you can judge how we're doing with that one.

For me rest is more than a good sleep. Rest is peace. Rest is "shalom" - completeness, wholeness, peace, soundness, tranquility, fullness, harmony, the absence of agitation or discord. Rest is being okay with who I am.

Rest is turning off all that noise - television, laptop, phone, the task list I keep in my brain, the expectations I have for myself - all of those things that keep my mind spinning. Rest is not pulling out my iPhone to check my email in the doctor's waiting room but taking a page from those olden days when instead I would simply observe my surroundings. Rest is taking those few spare minutes to sit down and close my eyes instead of picking up my book or the newspaper. Rest is not making a To Do list, even though checking off those tasks is so very satisfying to me.

Rest is being quiet and listening to my heart, to what God is sharing with me today.

Jesus says, "Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. All of you, take up My yoke and learn from Me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for yourselves." Matthew 11:28-29

Five Minute Friday - I Remember Ordinary

On Fridays I link up with Lisa-Jo Baker for a writing flash mob. I write for five minutes on the topic Lisa-Jo has chosen. Today's writing prompt is ordinary.

I remember ordinary but faintly. Ordinary was a few months ago. Ordinary was restful. It was, well orderly. An early morning coffee during my quiet study time, then a run along the river, no rushing about but just a slow ease into the day.

I haven't enjoyed ordinary in a while now, not since my family began helping our friend from Congo and her three young children after they moved into the homeless shelter for women and children. Now my mornings and days are filled with transportation needs, babysitting, legos strewn about, changing of diapers (it's been a while!) laughter, and sweet hugs.

This week has been even less ordinary than my new normal, as we walked with our friend through the hospitalization and death of her mom. Three young children overnight, bath time, school schedules and quite a bit less sleep.

There has been nothing ordinary this week. I have seen what I didn't know was possible, that there can be beauty in death. Beauty in this love I have seen, a whole mountain of it. Beauty in seeing a daughter care for her mom in her last hours and afterwards. Beauty in the heart-wrenching grief displayed without embarrassment or care for who sees, for this grief honors one so greatly loved. Beauty in the dozens of friends and family streaming into the hospital room to say goodbye and just be present.

I am grateful, so very grateful to have been a part of this not so ordinary week.

Poor Me

I like to read. That's no surprise if you've known me for five minutes. I read mostly nonfiction because it's what I like and I don't like how so often fiction is, well can I just say, depressing. I find real life hard enough without being depressed for the sake of entertainment. But I digress. If you look at my reading list, you'll see a wide range of books, from Does the Noise in My Head Bother You? by Steven Tyler to A Return to Modesty by Wendy Shalit.

Last summer I read the book Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide and my heart broke. My heart broke for the millions of women and girls for whom violence and rape are common place. My heart broke for these girls and women who don't know they are valuable and important, treasured and deserving of love and security.

My heart also broke for the millions of us living a better life who choose not to be aware of what is happening in this world. We all live on the same planet, and I'm ashamed so many of us choose to look the other way because we might be inconvenienced or feel guilty for doing nothing. These same traumatized girls and women could be us if we were simply born into a different place.

A new point of view

A walk in your shoes

I wish I could get inside your head

To see what you see

When you look at me

'Cause I could've lived your life instead

Instead by Stacie Orrico

Today, I watched this short video featuring the actress Eva Mendes and her involvement with Half the Sky. It made me sad and not for the reason you might think. I was sad that it is seemingly so easy for a person like Ms. Mendes to be a change for good in the world. Most of us can't jump on a plane to Africa so easily and likely wouldn't be as welcomed upon arrival.

But these feelings are selfish. Honestly, this is just a "poor me" moment (ironic, huh!). The truth is there is tremendous need all around me - all around you. All I (all you) need do is open my eyes, open my heart and be the hands and feet of Jesus to those standing right in front of me.

I'm ready Jesus. Let's go.

*************************** 

Wondering where you can go to be the hands and feet of Jesus? In your own community, look for these organizations:

Center for refugees

Homeless shelter

English language center

Boys and Girls Club

Your local elementary school

Food bank

In Idaho:

Boise Rescue Mission Ministries

English Language Center

Idaho Food Bank

Idaho Office for Refugees

I Am Not Letting Go

I was running last week and listening to music when these words filled me.

Hope is just a ray of what everyone should see
Alone is the street where you found me
Scared of what's behind
You always scared of what's in front
Live with what you have
And make the best of what's to come

Tell me a story long and true
We are what we say we are what we do
Just pieces of a puzzle to find where we stand just confused
So you are the moon that pulls me through the night
Tell Me a Story by Phillip Phillips

The words spoke to me so clearly that I stopped running. In that moment I understood that for so long I didn't allow myself to grab onto hope, that I lived for years with a fear of what was to come - a fear of what life would be like when my sweet children grew into lives of their own and were no longer a part of my moment by moment life. Would I still have purpose? Would I still be valuable? Lovable?

I realized I hadn't given myself permission to feel hope because I didn't really believe  God loves me just as I am.  Oh, but he does.  The Bible says I am wholly and dearly loved, a saint, a child of God, blameless, chosen, God's special possession, a priest, righteous, faithful.

"Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us. . .  For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light." Ephesians 5:1-2 & 8

Today I grab onto hope, knowing it is indestructible. Hope grabs onto light and does not let go. I see hope, and I am not afraid.

Five Minute Friday: They Are All Beloved

Today's writing prompt: BELOVED (A person who is dearly loved)

At 15 my beloved and I found each other.
Not the norm we know!

At 22 this beloved came into my life.

At 27 God gave me this beloved.

My life is more than I dreamed. So much more. And I know it. Every. Single. Day.

I desire that God open my heart to a bigger concept of beloved. That those who aren't as visible become visible and beloved to me. To all of us.

Today, these sweet ones are also beloved.

God, please open my heart so that each face is beloved to me. Just as each face is beloved to you.

The Peace of Christ

Today, Kevin and I were blessed to attend church in Utrecht, Holland at St. Martin's Cathedral, or Domkerk as it is known locally.

The church is beautiful and as you can imagine we don't normally worship in such a setting, living as we do in Boise, Idaho. In fact, our home city goes for a much simpler worship style and one that suits us well on a regular basis. Today's worship, though, was special.

The choir in their long red robes filling the church with ancient song, the sounds rich and full in the stone church.

The kindness of the elderly Dutch gentleman sitting next to me, guiding me through the Dutch prayer book, pointing to each song and prayer and probably wincing inwardly at my botching of the Dutch language.

The female priest.

The story of Peter and the overflowing net of fish which I could make out even in Dutch.

The communion. Oh, the communion. I loved it. The lining up, altogether, sharing a cup, thanking my Lord for what he's given me.

And my favorite, greeting each other with the words, "the Peace of Christ," said by some in Dutch, others in English.

Indeed, today I am blessed.

Vrede van Christus.

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."