Being Still.

"God is either in everything, or He is in nothing." 

- Richard Rohr 

Here I am trying to be still, but feeling incredibly twitchy.  It's pretty automatic - this urge to keep moving.  To start to race down the track in front of me.  To look away from the pain.  To take action in an effort to move forward.  It's the way I have lived for 39 years.

Here is my takeaway ... AWARENESS.  If I am still long enough to listen, to gaze, to feel, then I can emerge with a bit of awareness.

-I am becoming aware of patterns in my life. Patterns of over-responsibility, people-pleasing, and performance. Patterns I loathe.  Patterns I want to break.

-I am becoming aware of feelings that go much deeper than this last hard season.  Feeling unseen and that I only matter when I am doing something valuable.  Like I am only as good as my performance. Feeling afraid of the shoe that is about to drop and bracing for that destruction. Like a skittish puppy.  Breathing shallow, ready for fight or flight. Feeling aware of the erosion that scarcity brings to life ... physical, emotional, financial, spiritual scarcity that is equal parts the cards that were dealt, and part the result of a life being lived stretched far too thin.

In the spirit of being a person who is compelled to take action, the most healthy step forward right now feels like me intentionally inviting God into these places of emerging awareness.

Inviting Him to speak into these patterns.  To shed more light and gently nudge me as I inch towards those automatic responses that feel so deeply ingrained in me.  It is like arriving in your driveway without thinking, unaware of the route you took to get there.  I don't want to slip into auto-pilot with these patterns any longer.  My muscle memory is strong.  I need the Holy Spirit to be stronger, and He is.  But, it is a partnership and my awareness is the key.

It means noticing the clenched hands and opening them with a prayer of surrender. Recognizing that it is not up to me to fix anything in this season.  I don't have to take control/fix/will/muscle/resume right now.

It means saying no more than yes and fighting the urge to change my mind or apologize for disappointing whomever is asking.  I have been a "yes girl" my whole life.  This is a season for pausing and waiting and only saying yes to the things that should be a yes.  Resisting the urge to prove I am valuable and to keep everyone happy by showing up and saying yes.

It means taking each thought captive.  That can be such a cliched line.  But, when I picture those thoughts as literal bombs being dropped on my shalom, then taking them captive is a necessary part of the battle for peace. Grab them, examine them, look them up and down and determine their intent. Make them show I.D. at the door.  Then decide if they are allowed to stay.

It means inviting God into the feelings and hurts and fears and grief.  Maybe even going back to these moments and asking Him to show me where He was when the crap was hitting the fan.  Asking the hard questions and waiting for Him to answer.  Channeling my inner psalmist and pouring it all out ... anger, grief, questions, sorrow, fears, and being brave enough to let hope mingle there.  I am daring myself to dream again, even in the midst of examining the rubble of dreams dashed and broken.  Because, just as Richard Rohr has said, He is either in everything, or He is in nothing.

It means sitting in brokenness with my God, who is the only one that can heal in such a way that we come out on the other side more whole than before.  I believe this.  One of the colors of "shalom" is WHOLENESS.  I don't see wholeness as the starting place like a brand new pair of shoes that haven't gotten scuffed up.  I believe that in God's kingdom an old soul on their deathbed is more whole than a brand new baby in their mama's arms.  This old soul has experienced bumps and bruises and "scuff marks" galore.  It has shaped them.  They are who they are because of the story.  I am inviting Him to heal and restore the broken places in my story so that I am more whole.

When we think of being still with God, no doubt we think of the very well known verse from Psalm 46:10 (heck, we may have grown up with it embroidered on a pillow):

“Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”


But, here is the thing - this verse is actually a command.  There is no hemming and hawing here.  No "maybe you should consider being more still for a season" kind of language.  It is pretty clear.  Sit your booty down.  

Connect your thoughts to truth and see who you are in the light of who I am (KNOW THAT I AM GOD). This is powerful language of superiority.  

And, I guess this leads me to one of the best places of awareness I am settling into ... humility.  

How do I humble myself and declare not just with my lips but with my life that I am not in control? 

How do I humble myself and declare that I believe I am loved and my identity as His daughter is more important than my identity perceived by anyone else around me?  

How do I humble myself and resist the zings of affirmation that come from performance and doing?  

How do I humble myself and admit that I have failed to keep it all together, even amidst a whole lot of trying? Because the other side of that moment of confession is acceptance and dare I say the sweet gift of serenity.  Because it was never mine to control or try and keep together.

When all you can do is stop.

It was a doozy of a week.  And the different shades of "doozy" all came as a surprise.  It was a week off from school for the kids and work for me.  Expectations and hopes floated like happy brightly colored balloons in my hand. 

We were ready for this week.  It was like the air that rests just above the surface of the water that you can see from deep below.  You are swimming towards it with eager anticipation, feeling the burn in your lungs, kicking harder as the sunlight gets closer. 

One by one, I collected these hopes for my week like balloons and walked along as though I was heading to a happy little party. 

Much of the week was just what it needed to be.  Slow and blissful mornings that were unhurried and full of pajamas and reheating the cup of coffee because there is time to sip slowly.  Wandering around the house from thought to thought, task to task, not feeling the usual pressure to complete the to do list.  Little outings in our fun part of the world - taking in glorious sunshine, yummy eats, and activities like bowling (because why not?).

Then it came.  Life's sharp needle that comes from out of nowhere.  So stealthy under the radar that the sound of the "POP!" of one of those balloons you hold in your hand causes you to jump with fright.

The first pop came as we sat in a doctor's appointment to go over a recent lab test we did for our son.  We have been on a long journey of discovering what was making him sick (mold!), and even longer to discover how to help him get better.  The results stung.  They felt like a mocking voice of defeat.  An unexpected slap in the face.  A door opening to yet another set of worries.  Another set of protocols.  Another series of out of pocket expenses.  More appointments.  More tests. 

More.  More.  More.

I drove away so discouraged.  And yet, feeling that familiar feeling of accountability and pressure to respond with a plan.

"Gear up, Ali." 

"You can do this."

"Put on a brave face for Callen."

"Be grateful."

So many thoughts bubbling up in my inner dialogue.  And, like any good conversation, replies started bubbling up as well.

"I am tired."

"When is enough ENOUGH?"

"How do I pay for this?"

"Is any of this working?"

The tears began to hover right on the edge of my eyelids.  You know that feeling.  You are like a water bottle that is too full and the slightest squeeze will trigger the spilling over the edge.  Each thought, each emotion, each breath was like a band of pressure wrapping itself around me and the tears were falling.  I kept my sunglasses on and tried to answer any questions coming from my kiddos with one word answers, avoiding them hearing my voice tremble.

Keep it together, Ali.

I was able to get the kids home and get myself off to go for a walk at some trails nearby.  Except that by the time I pulled up in the parking lot I was sobbing.  The tears were a torrent and the grief was unleashed.  There was no keeping it together in this moment.  I sat there in my car letting it all out.  Riding the wave of emotion, totally out of my own control and completely at the mercy of it.  I watched as a young couple stood with a photographer in front of lovely tall wildflowers next to the winding trail.  She was adorable with her pregnant belly.  She posed so sweetly, holding her tummy with such love and protection. 

The wave of emotion rises higher because I am her.

I am taken back to that baby in my tummy growing and being cared for so automatically and perfectly.  I have hopes and dreams and longings for what life will look like for this child and it certainly does not look like a contaminated home, so much loss, sickness and a very long and winding road trying to recover.  It is maternal extinct to want to shelter and protect and nurture.  And yet, I feel that even amidst all of the effort, I am failing. 

I suddenly feel like a hamster who has been in one of those cruel mazes.  I am eager to find the path through all the tunnels.  I press on.  I keep moving.  Feeling a bit tired and discouraged, but just keep going.  Try harder. I think I have seen this corner before ... man, it all looks familiar. 

Until, suddenly, I can't go one more step.  I'm done.  I sit under the arch and I stop. 
All I can do is stop.

This, my friends, is where I sit right now.  And, here is what I am learning ... that there is a lot of grief I have not allowed myself to feel.  In an effort to get my little people out of crisis mode when our world was turned upside down by mold and sickness, I stepped into action and have been steadily plodding along.  But, grief is like a shadow, isn't it?  It will stay right there, subtly following you wherever you go.  Sometimes a bit bigger, sometimes a bit smaller.  It all depends on where the sun is shining. 

I sat with a dear friend and shared where I am at right now.  As I wiped away tears and looked up, I saw her face just as wet.  She has known soul cutting grief.  She has walked a dark valley.  She just sat there crying with me.  For a while.

Then, she spoke:

"I am so sorry."

"This is all really hard."

"And here is the thing ... Job sat in his grief for 37 chapters.  I think you need to let yourself sit in this for a while.  Talk about it with God.  Feel it.  Face it.  Wrestle with it.  Give yourself that gift."

This is new for me.  I am a "do-er." I am responsible.  I am a one on the enneagram (I think).

Sitting in a mess is painful for me.  But, it is necessary.

Stop.  Sit.  Feel.

Two Powerful Words: Eliminate & Concentrate

 

Today I am reflecting on words of wisdom that came from a beloved mentor to so many women I know.  Anne Ortlund was passionate about MANY things, but I would say the top of her list was JESUS and DISCIPLESHIP.  She faithfully walked with a small group of women over a year and poured into them with the hope and expectation that they would duplicate what she had done with other women in their own circle.  She was amazing!  I was discipled by one of her gals, Lisa Grable.  I am so thankful for the season that Lisa poured into me, prayed for me, and cheered for me with intentionality and love.  Anne is no longer with us on this earth, but it is incredible to think about her impact while she was alive, and that her impact continues through the people she poured into.

One of our discipleship mornings  around Lisa's table included time with Anne and she shared a lesson with us that was titled, "Eliminate & Concentrate."  Although this was a few years ago, I still mull over these words from time to time.  They have changed the way I approach commitments and help me evaluate how I am investing my time as a mom, wife, friend, and Jesus follower. 

I am sharing on the blog today my reflection on Anne's lesson that I wrote just after she shared with us a few years ago.  I am struck today as I re-read these words how true they are!  I am seeing photos of my children that I posted a few years back when they were just 6 and 8 that have me nearly in tears because they are completely different people as I type this now.  I want to be back THERE today.  I want the opportunity to lift up my kiddos in my arms again and tickle chubby bellies and snuggle them up in a bath towel with skin smelling oh so sweet. 

It makes me want to share this post all the more!  The days are long, my friends, but the years are so, so short.  And, I am reading these words again for my own self.  Because although I am in a different season and my littles have become bigs, this season shall also pass much too quickly and I will wish that I could be back HERE where they are 10 and 13.  All I can do is live in this present moment with a commitment to continue to eliminate those things that do not add value and concentrate on those that do.   

[Eliminate & Concentrate]

I recently got to hear an amazing woman, Anne Ortlund, share her thoughts on navigating life well with a group of women. Anne is definitely in her "golden years", and I don't know about you, but when I have the opportunity to listen to someone share about living life well who has lived a lot of life, I lean forward a little closer and listen just a bit more intently. She had so many morsels of wisdom to give us. But one thing she talked about has really stuck with me.

She was talking about managing time and she said her two favorite words to implement in time management are "eliminate" and "concentrate".

These two words are gnarly. They are weighty. I feel like they belong in a board room. They sound strong and definitive and driven, don't they? They are not wishy washy or touchy feely.

And, I am trying to apply them to my life and love the direction they give me.

I know that there are things in my life that need to be eliminated.

Straight up.

There are a few places that I see this word doing surgery on my life.

In how I spend my time, and how our family spends our time. There is a whole vortex around me sucking me and my time towards it. I am a people-pleaser and a do-er, which means that I want to say yes to everything because number one, I don't want to hurt your feelings or upset you, and number two, I like doing things. But, when I say yes to everything, I end up doing nothing well. And, I end up frazzled, frustrated, bitter and ill. Yes, ill. My body has been pushed to the breaking point far too many times for me not to own that I do damage to my physical body when I take on too much.

I need to eliminate.

I also see this in my kids' lives. They have countless involvement opportunities as well. They are in school and have homework. They are invited to play dates and birthday parties. They can do brownies, cub scouts, be in school plays, play soccer, football, baseball, swim team, water polo, tennis, golf, dance, gymnastics, music lessons, choir... The list could go on and on. And, hear me when I say this - they are 6 and 8.

I want my children to be active.

I want my children to try hobbies and sports and find what they are good at.

But, more importantly, I want them to be peaceful, humble and to live in a family environment that is not frenzied and frazzled and out of control. These are all "good things" - who doesn't want their kids to play the sports that the kids are around them are playing? I have heard the saying "good is the enemy of best" so many times recently and my soul knows this well. When my children and involved in too many "good" things, the BEST for our family is sacrificed over and over and over. It is easy to say that we will be a "one or two sport" family but more difficult to stick to those guns when all the kids around you are playing multiple sports and you feel like your children will be left behind and made fun of for being the only ones who cannot throw a basketball right. But, I have to step back, focus and remember what my long-term values are for these little humans.

I need to eliminate.

I also see the need to eliminate in where I let my heart go. This may sound really, really crazy to a lot of people, but I have learned that Facebook is not for me. I have no judgement for those who love this corner of social networking, but FOR ME, I have learned that Facebook does wacky things to my emotions. Aside from the general "time vacuum" that it always ended up being, I found that Facebook pretty much left me in a very melancholy place.

I would log on to catch up with the happenings in my friends lives and I would log off feeling like I was out of the loop on far too many happenings (excluded from events that I really did not expect to be invited to, but seeing all the people tagged in the photos and the list of comments that praised how epic it was left me feeling lonely), not funny enough (other people have so many likes and comments on their status updates), like my family doesn't have as much fun as everyone else (everyone else is posting photos of their AMAZING moments from their day), and just generally discontent.

[source]

My purpose in going onto Facebook was to feel connected and I would always leave feeling more disconnected and just a bit angsty (totally a word). I had to learn that Facebook is not for me. I still have an account that I can use to message people, but I rarely, rarely go on there. This little life shift has served me well. It was truly the best for me.

Am I completely anti social networking in general? No. I would buy stock in pinterest tomorrow if I could. And, I have even seen that Facebook and other social networking sites have been used for a ton of good in a lot of ways. I do have some pretty big concerns for what all of this means for our kids and our society. I feel like people are losing an important part of human interaction, which is face to face connection. I feel like there is something to looking in a friend's eyes and just knowing that they are having a tough day and digging a little deeper to make sure they are ok. I feel like Facebook and Twitter can make us a little too ego driven sometimes. I mean, should all of our followers really care about where we had lunch? Should we even take the time to post that? Why are we posting that? Would that time be better spent in another way? How are my kids honored by how often I reach for my phone or laptop to update the world? These are all questions I continue to ask myself with regard to technology and how we choose to engage it as a family. At a bare minimum - I have seen the fruit of my decision to eliminate Facebook as part of my daily connection with the world.

I also need to learn to eliminate certain thoughts before they start to spin in my head. A wise counselor I know says this: "The birds will land on your head, just don't let them nest." I cannot stop my brain from thinking, but I have the choice in whether they nest or I shoo them away when they are not life giving or helpful.

[source]

I need to eliminate.

This "elimination" concept has all sorts of practical applications with regard to living in simplicity (getting rid of excess stuff that clutters and could be used elsewhere), and even with regard to a healthy diet. I need to eliminate a few more chocolate covered almonds from my daily eating patterns if you know what I mean.

And, I need to concentrate.

I need to concentrate on what I know to be important so that I can make wise choices in what to eliminate. I need to concentrate so that I prevent needing to eliminate. How wonderful it would be if I just knew my limits and really was thoughtful as I walked life and did not get to the place where I have to make those surgical cuts.

I need to concentrate on my children. This time is so fleeting. They will not always be here, and I know that but I still live as though they will. I live as though there will be tomorrows for the life lessons that need to be taught today. I have these moments with them and I want to "mine" these moments well, as it says in the very definition of the word. To sift these moments and separate the metal from the ore. To purify them and make them stronger.

There are countless reasons why it is important to concentrate in this time that feels like a breeze blowing through my home ...

Because there are these moments that will build their foundation of love for each other as brother and sister for the rest of their lives. We are crafting our family's legacy in the moments of everyday life...

Because he only turns 6 this one time (and soon, he will no longer pronounce "Actually" as "ackshly") ...

Because I am going to wish that she would sit and hug me and want to talk to me about all the details of her world in 7 years ...

Because I am only going to be able to carry him like this for a wee bit longer, and she will only dance and twirl and sing in the background without being self-conscious for a wee bit longer ...

I have this moment that replays in my head that causes me to feel such remorse. A few weeks ago we were getting ready to go on a trip to Lake Arrowhead for a family getaway. My to do list was a mile long and I was frantically trying to get all the games and activities packed up before I had some children arriving at my house for tutoring. My daughter came over and started to hug me as I was sorting card games and packing. I literally brushed her off gently and said, "Honey, I don't have time to cuddle right now. I have got to get this stuff packed up." The look on her face still hurts my heart quite a bit when I recall it. She recoiled and looked as though I had slapped her. "You don't want to hug me?" she said. And, her eyes filled up with tears.

I immediately stopped and apologized and told her mommy made a bad choice and tried to make it right. And, she was gracious and received my hug but I could tell I hurt her and it wasn't all totally perfect. There was still that hurt place where she realized that I made a choice and it was not to love her first. It was my stupid to do list.

Oh man, how I want to concentrate.

 

I need to concentrate on my marriage and my husband.

He so often gets the left overs of me. He gets the wiped out, emotionally shut down, exhausted version of his wife at the end of the day. I need to evaluate what in the world is going on here if I value us staying a connected, vibrant and in love couple well into our golden years. I need to concentrate on showing him that I am present and still listening. I need to concentrate on affirming him and speaking words of love to him, especially in times where he needs that bolstering. I need to concentrate on being his love who is there for better or worse, richer and poorer, in sickness and in health - that pretty much means BEING there our whole life. All of life pretty much fits in those descriptions and I said I would.

I need to concentrate.

So, these are two words that I carry with me in my days. I use them to make decisions and process how we are doing as a family. There will be an ebbing and flowing of activities and time. There are seasons for hibernation and seasons for a flurry of activity.

But, I will endeavor to learn to live these words out well.

How about you - what do these words evoke in you?

Sharing the stories.

Okay, so lets be real.  My last post was, ummm, quite a few years ago.  I took a break from blogging. A long break.  Have you ever just needed a time out?  Well, that is what it was.  Or, that is how it started.  I had reached a place where me blogging was not bringing out the best in me.  Maybe you are a blogger and can relate.  Or, maybe you have experienced something similar with Facebook or other social media space and taken a break there.  It just had become a place for me of comparison.  Me comparing my blog to others' blogs.  I just started to feel motivated by the wrong things and a bit too tethered to the "hit" of comments and likes.  Can anyone relate?

So, the break was initiated as a little breathing room.  I have still been writing ... just in journals.  Audience of one.

A lot of life has happened over the past few years, which also contributed to the break.  Highs and lows and everything in between.  There is much to tell about how God has stepped into each of those places.  I feel compelled to share the stories. A through thread will be how the Lord has set my heart on this pursuit of shalom.  Peace.  Wholeness.  Flourishing.  It's my word.  If I were to get a tattoo it would be that word.

I am still learning so much about leaning in and discovering more.  I will share the stories.

Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good;

His love endures forever.

Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story - 

those He has redeemed from the hand of the foe, 

those He has gathered from the lands ... 

-Psalm 107

 

Hello Friends.

My name is Ali. I have two beautiful children - my miracles. I have a pretty fabulous husband - we started out as friends (the best way to start, in my opinion), and then became college sweethearts. He is a musician, and our home is blessed to have him often in the background singing & creating melodies.  It seems to be rubbing off on the kids - a good thing, indeed.

Here is a throw back photo to sweet days that seem like they were JUST HERE.  Like yesterday!

I have experienced seasons of being a stay at home mom, working from home mom, full-time working mom, and part-time working mom.  No matter the title, it is all a whole lot of work.

I started in the world of blogging pretty much by accident (long story) with  another site that was a fun a collaboration with some pretty amazing mamas.

I am most myself when I have a chance to exercise both my body and my creative energy. 

Things I love:

the title "mama" the sound of laughter  beauty in nature           

       long walks my sister coffee   cooking

freshly baked bread  interior design  Jesus

vacation  time with my family Deep Creek Lake, Maryland    

      time with friends

reading to my children  healthy food  organic  going slowly

stopping to smell the flowers  trees  sand between my toes  running 

the smell of rain  time with God  
the sound of rain on a tin roof   creating new things 
                                          out of old things

  the color torquoise  anthropologie

reading  naps  movies   sunny days   picnics my brother

most things vintage    Europe   farms   wide open spaces 

starry nights  my parents   photography    chocolate  writing

leaning into life   my apron  my vintage wedding ring 

the color green the gratitude revolution that is shaping my life                  shalom  

Why I first named this blog "leaning in and looking up"?

I started this blog when we were going through a pretty tough season. We were hit incredibly hard by the economy, and it literally felt like I was being stripped of so much of what had been my daily life. So much was out of my control and I felt really anxious about where we were at, and even more so, about the future. What I knew was that what was in my control was how I responded. I had a choice in how I would respond - I could move forward with fear, anxiety, and bitterness, or I could lean into what I knew to be true - that God has always provided for me every step of my life. I began to pray for "daily bread" - emotional, physical, spiritual daily bread. I also began to fight to dwell on everything I had to be grateful for. It had to be a conscious decision - a choice to dwell on the lovely in every moment. Yes, we were losing our home. Yes, I was selling my furniture to come up with my first month's rent for a house that would be 1/2 the size of what we were in. BUT, when I looked up and took in my surroundings I saw two beautiful, amazing children who were healthy. I saw my husband, my best friend, and I knew that together, the four of us were home no matter where we slept at night. 

Choosing gratitude has revolutionized my life. I cannot tell you the peace that I began to feel in that season - peace that was unexplainable. I had mind like water - each pebble life threw into my mind's pond, would splash, and then send out it's slow ripples, but then my pond would settle back again into a peaceful stillness.

Looking up - whether it was at my gorgeous children, or up at the sky, trees, flowers, waves crashing, or a sunset - allowed me to remind my head and heart of the power and creativity of God. If I want to trust God with my tomorrow then I know that I need to remind myself why He is trustworthy. If I can remind myself of who He is - then there is very little wondering left as to whether He can handle what is happening in my life now.

I continue to choose gratitude ...

It is my hope that I will lean fully into every season of life I am blessed to enjoy.

It is my hope that in the times of sorrow or anxiety, I will lean into the peace and hope that God faithfully promises me.

It is my hope that in times of joy and abundance, I will lean fully into gratitude and thankfulness.

If ever I doubt that my whole world rests in His hands, I simply have to pause & look up - I will see the sky, the branches and leaves, and most compelling in my world - the faces of my two beautiful children that are miraculous evidence of God's power to create beauty from ashes.

This is where I will share my story in my pursuit of peace.  Shalom is where I am camping for now. I will ramble. I will dream. I will cry, and I will laugh.  Hopefully the refrain that will weave its way through all of it will be gratitude.

Tangible Way To Bless Sandy Hook Elementary

We all wish there was something we could do. More importantly, we want a way for our families to process this together.

The National PTA has shared news that while the students are away on Christmas break, a team of volunteers will be decorating the school and turning it into a Winter Wonderland so that when they return it feels fresh, new and different.

Isn't that what God does in our lives - His mercies are new every morning.

I am thankful for fresh starts.
New mornings.
The clear skies after the rain.
The start of a New Year.
Fresh beginnings.

We can help.

If you are a teacher, you and your class can make snowflakes to send to Sandy Hook to decorate their school.

As a family, create snow flakes as a family activity.

You can go old school and fold the paper and make the cuts. Or, you can go new school and use coffee filters or popsicle sticks, or whatever else you want to create.

Each snow flake will be unique, just like each precious student who has ever graced those halls is unique, and uniquely loved by God. When you are done - hold those snow flakes in your hand and say a prayer for hope and peace and comfort. Here is a tutorial for making paper snowflakes, which I found on pinterest.

Please send all snowflakes and donations to:
Connecticut PTSA
60 Connolly Parkway
Building 12, Suite 103
Hamden, CT 06514

Turn this MERRY into MIGHTY Christmas

It is difficult to escape the heaviness that lingers in the air right now.  The tragedy in Connecticut stands in heavy contrast to the "Christmas spirit" that 'tis the season.

I have a 6 year old son.

It's hard not to see his face when I hear the news and contemplate how this could have happened.  It's difficult for me to shut off the questions that come as I think of him ever being in a situation like that.  I cannot even begin to process the pain of searing loss if I were dealing with the aftermath as these parents are.

I am a teacher.

I am entrusted these beautiful children, these souls, to instruct and shepherd as they are in my care.  It is unfathomable to ponder a moment like that in my classroom.  Innocence shattered.  Fear unbridled.  Ugliness and evil screaming out.

I have prayed many prayers over the past few days.  Small prayers whispered under my breath as my brain tries to wrap itself around this news.  Prayers of gratitude for messy craft tables and sticky fingerprints.  Prayers of gratitude for "one more hug" at bedtime.  Prayers of comfort for the families experiencing this searing loss and unfathomable pain right now.  Prayers of protection for my own children and the children I teach.  Prayers for peace that transcend our understanding.  For, truly, this is something no one can understand.

The one thing that I continue to come back to is my favorite line from one of my favorite Christmas carols ("O Little Town of Bethlehem"):

"The hopes and fears of all the years 

are met in Thee tonight."

For the past two weeks I have been sharing this line with my students as we work on our Christmas art projects.  It is awe inspiring to me.  I think about all the hopes and all the fears from the beginning of time to the end of time, and I try to stack them on top of each other in the tallest tower that stretches higher than the heavens.  I then see Jesus, and he knocks it over and they crumble.  He came to be Emmanuel and to know and share in our highest hopes and the deepest fears.  He came to live with us the mess that is this life, and ultimately defeat those ugly fears.  He knew longing like we know longing.  He knew pain and loss and brokeness and ugliness.

The fears in that classroom in Connecticut alone are too much for my heart and mind to comprehend.  And yet, this Jesus, my Jesus, takes those, and the fears of the mothers through the ages, the whispers from the darkest moments of the Holocaust, and all the other crazy painful moments in history, and he carries them on his shoulders.  It makes the gift of the cross bigger today.  I cannot even sit in the reality of what that classroom must have felt like for longer than a few seconds - it is just too much.  Jesus doesn't walk away.  He doesn't say, "It is too much."  No - he walks towards it.  And more.  And he carries it and he defeats it.

The celebration of the angels and the stars blazing in the sky at His birth make more sense now.  Light in contrast to darkness.  The hope that arrives in contrast to the darkness that has lingered is just so beautiful.  I believe heaven shudders at these ugly moments in history.  It aches to see pain and darkness and evil.  That moment in time when the plan for redemption was put into motion - that moment when Jesus was born - that was the moment that heaven celebrates that an end to the darkness is near.

So, today, I pause to reflect on that beautiful thought.  That He came to cover the fears, and to know the hopes.  We still see the ugly because we are stuck in the now and not yet.  It is not yet perfect, but in the now, we can still see that HE CAME.  He entered this yuck, for the purpose of carrying the pain.

My dear friend, Tim Timmons, has written two songs that have become my soundtrack for the last few days.  They are Christmas songs and they are timely.

The first is his version of "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem" with his own flair added in.
To listen, go here.

The chorus says,
"Rejoice!  Rejoice! Emmanuel, God is here.
Rejoice!  Rejoice!  If God is for us, we won't fear.
Take joy in the comfort of the Prince of Peace,
And joy in the power of the King of Kings,
Rejoice!  And, again we say Rejoice!"

The second in on the album "A Christmas Together", vol 3 and it is called "Mighty Christmas".   The phrase "Merry Christmas" is viewed in our present days as happy, jolly, twinkly.  But, "merry" in the old school language was more along the lines of "mighty".  Robinhood and his MERRY men were not happy men giggling through the forest.  They were MIGHTY men.  A force to be reckoned with.

This song is all about the need for this year to be different.  For Jesus to turn the merry into a Mighty Christmas.  For the hopes and fears and doubts to be broken by the power that is in Him.  If ever we needed a mighty Christmas, I would say it is now.  That is one of the prayers I continue to whisper.  That God, in the way that only He can, would show up for these families.  That He would bring mighty  peace and mighty hope into a very dark and broken place.

To play "Mighty Christmas", click on the play icon and it will take you to Tim's myspace radio page: Mighty Christmas
Here are the lyrics to "Mighty Christmas".  If you are someone who is at a loss for what to pray right now, pray these lyrics.  God is listening...

What if all of this were true?
Emmanuel, how God came through
Is this more than Christmas cheer?
Is this just a story, what if it's real?
Would I still be lonely,
Would I know fear,
Would my worry hold me
Could I be healed?

Crying out loud,
This year Like never before 
Jesus reveal a little more to my soul
Would you show me just how powerful 
You are more than a manger
Jesus the mighty Savior 
in my soul, turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas
Turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas

What if in my silent nights
You were enough 
You were the light
Angels saying do not fear
Is this still the promise?
You still come near

Meet me in my lonely
Tear down my fear
Hold me through my worry
And, Lord would you heal

Crying out Loud - 
This year like never before, 
Jesus reveal a little more

Would you show me just how powerful 
You are more than a manger
Jesus the mighty Savior 
in my soul, turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas
Turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas


Stronger than the weight of gravity
That whisper in my bones reminding me
Everything I'm not, and I try to be
You are


Meet me in my lonely
Tear down my fear
Hold me through my worry
And, Lord would you heal

Crying out Loud - 
This year like never before, 
Jesus reveal a little more

Would you show me just how powerful 

You are more than a manger
Jesus the mighty Savior 
in my soul, turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas
Turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas



I am wishing you a mighty Christmas.

Lent in Everyday Language: Feeling Loved

I am still following along with my friend, Amy, over at Soul Simple in her journey through Lent in Everyday Language.

Today is Day 13.

Yes, I realize I missed a few days. I am constantly reminded of how the reality of my life is meshing with my ideals of what I want my life to be. My ideal is that I would be able to live out this thoughtful, soul-transforming lenten experience and blog about it like crazy because I love processing my learning through writing. The reality, however, is that my life is messy and full and some of these days my lenten experience will go unblogged because there are just not enough moments.

But here I am today and I am excited to process these 2 questions issued today:

1. Where did I feel most loved today?

2. Where was it hardest for me to feel love today?

First, I loved that Amy shared this note on her blog a couple days ago with regard to the examen:

Fr. Joe Tetlow, in an introduction to the Examen says this..

Never, never start examining yourself until you have thanked God for the gifts that God is giving to you—not in general, not in the past, but right now, today. That’s how you start The Examen. I think people who can keep the Examen up often do that.

If there is one lesson I continue to re-learn, and one posture that I am continuing to practice, it is this practice of praise - gratitude - thanking. My world has been revolutionized by gratitude over and over. I have seen this path that I have walked down and how in the midst of trials and scarcity and really terrifying places, that when I pause to thank God for what He has done or is doing, everything changes. Not so much circumstantially, but in my soul. I think that is why I am so in love with Ann Voskamp's book 1000 gifts. I have read and re-read that book 5 times. It is such good food for my thoughts. I keep copies on hand to give away because I truly feel like the act of praising and thanking God just might be the cure for everything. I am like the father from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" - only, I offer you gratitude instead of windex.

Alright, so where did I feel most loved today ...

Sitting in the middle of my life group last night.

We go around the room and share where we are at. We give a snap shot of highs/lows and any blaring needs that we have. I didn't expect to turn into a weeping, red hot faced girl with tears and hiccups coming out of me all at once. No, I did not expect to melt into the "ugly cry". But, as I did, I felt so incredibly loved. When I could finally see through my tears, all I could see was love looking back at me. And, at the end of the night our dear friends gathered around my husband and I and prayed for us and it was beautiful. To be walking through life with a group of people who have our back and hold us up when our knees are weak is such a beautiful blessing and I am so thankful.

And, where was it hardest to feel loved today ...

In the midst of my sharing and my hot, tear-filled emotional release, I think I realized that I must have a wound somewhere in my soul that causes me to continually struggle with worrying about whether God will meet my needs. I am asking Him to reveal wisdom and to expose what this might be and kind of feel like I am peeling back the layers of an onion. I look at my children and their ability to walk in freedom each and every day - knowing that they are loved and will be cared for.

And then as I examine my own life - and I see this disconnect.

Here I have this amazing Heavenly Father who clearly loves me beyond my understanding.

He sent His son.

I can hardly type those words.

To think of sending my son.

But, I don't feel like my children feel. And, then, I realize - that is my Jericho. The fortress that I am marching around. It is the doubt and the fear and the whisper in the back of my mind that "He loves me not."

And once again, I go back to the words: "Anxiety is momentary atheism."

And I sit and I ask for God to transform and renew my mind once again. That I would believe these words:

"If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all - how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things? ...Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?

... No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither neither nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:31 - 39

I think of this love demonstrated for me. I think of the example of Jesus conquering death and saying we have all power and authority. I think of Him seated by the Father praying for me.

And, I pause.

I sit here amazed.

And, I simply pray that I would grasp the depth of this love. That it would wash over me. Change my heart. And help my unbelief. And, that I would live out this love.

I am humbled.

Lent in Everyday Language: Trusting God

"Those who know Your Name will trust in You;

for You, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek You." -Psalm 9:10

I am continuing in this journey through Lent with my friend Amy over at Soul Simple. Today I am processing this post here in my own life.

These are the two questions that Amy poses for examen:

Where am I trusting God today?

Where do I need to trust God today?

Ugh. Let me just pull the covers up over my head for a minute while I eat a yummy bar of dark chocolate. If I could go to sleep for the next 30 days I would. That is my true feeling right now. I'm tired and this season is exhausting. I feel like I am battling every minute to keep my head and heart in the right place. The last 24 hours have been particularly heavy as my husband and I have had lots of conversations about finances and our situation.

I think of Jesus' words in Matthew telling us not to worry about what we will eat or drink or wear. And I want to so badly not worry about how we will survive this season of scarcity, but in the face of reality it is really difficult not to go there.

so...

1. Where am I trusting God today?

I am in this beautiful place of reality meeting theology and I want with every fiber of my being to believe that God means what He says. That His peace can transcend all understanding. That though it looks bleak on a day where funds run low and bills run high, that He will provide. That when we know the direction to go, but are still unclear of the exact path and details are not in focus yet - that He will whisper the way to go as He has promised (Psalm 73:23-24) step by step. I am trusting that He is with me in this and that He sees where we are. I am choosing to take every thought captive and trust that He cares about all this prayers whispered as I do battle to stay in the here and now and not crawl to my bed to ride out the next 30 days that feel unknown and ominous. Today is not a day where I feel victorious and like the woman who laughs at the days to come. But, I am trusting that God is here with me in this day and that He sees what we need and is going to give us our emotional, spiritual and physical daily bread.

2. Where do I need to trust God today?

"You are a God of seeing. Truly, here I have seen Him who looks after me." - Gen. 16:13

These words are so powerful to me. They reveal this quality of God - that He sees our specific needs and hears our specific prayers and that He looks after us. He loves us, Oh how He loves us. Couldn't you just stand and sing those words over and over until the meaning penetrates the tender places of your heart that feel alone and desperate and unloved; uncared for.

Today - I need to trust that He is still a God of seeing and that He sees me. That He is walking with me and doing battle with me and interceding FOR me. Hearing the words from my heart before I can even speak them out loud.

I read this in a post by Ann Voskamp today:

It could be this in the middle of Lent: March — the month to march around walls in our lives and pray for God to bring down everything that keeps us from Him.

March — a 31 day march around the Jericho that’s keeping You from Jesus.

31 days to march around that one fear. March around that one worry. March around that one temptation. I know what my Jericho is. I name it. I will go home and I will write it down.

Write it in a prayer journal. Circle everyday of March on the calendar, make a prayer circle around each day and march around that Jericho, head bowed. Pray around it again and again — sliver blades cutting a circle, encircling all that is with His will, presence, grace.

I think my fear is that He won't show up as my Provider. He has never failed me before, and yet, these same little weeds grow around my little seed of faith threatening to choke it out. So, today, I need to trust that God is WHO HE SAYS HE IS. That I would be able to live out this verse:

"Those who know Your Name will trust in You;

for You, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek You." -Psalm 9:10

The Names of God

Elohim ~ Creator (Genesis 1:1)

El Elyon ~ The Most High/Sovereign (Genesis 14:18-10)

Jehovah-Tsidkenu ~ The Lord our Righteousness (Jeremiah 23:6)

Jehovah-Jireh ~ The Lord will provide (Genesis 22:14)

Jehovah - Roi ~ The Lord is my shepherd (Psalm 23:1)

Jehovah-Shalom ~ The Lord is peace (Judges 6:24)

Jehovah-Nissi ~ The Lord is my Banner (Exodus 17:15)

Jehovah-Rophe ~ The Lord who heals (Exodus 15:26)

Jehovah-Shammah ~ The Lord is there (Ezekiel 48:35)

Jehovah-Saboath ~ The Lord of hosts (1 Samuel 1:3-11)

Lent in Everyday Language: God Save Us

I am journey with my friend Amy through Lent and she provides daily questions as prompts for digging a bit deeper. Today I am processing this post.

Here are the questions Amy poses for reflection on the past 24 hours.

1. Where do you notice God saving you today?

2. Where do you need God to save you today?

Where do you notice God saving you today?

Yesterday I had the privilege of getting to listen to a beautiful woman share her heart with a group of women who are all a part of discipleship groups. Anne Ortlund is an author and truly amazing woman. She is older and has lived a lot of life. She and her husband Ray (who has passed on) started small discipleship groups years ago as they realized that they would never be able to make a very big impact on their church community one person at a time. This woman has taken in groups of 4-5 women every year and discipled them from September to June. To date she has done this with over 200 women. Her goal is to bring these women along and then release them to do the same. How simple and how utterly powerful. So, now I am in a group that is led by one of the gals that she mentored a few years ago. I sat with about 20 other women yesterday and we got to hear Anne share her heart. She shared so many morsels of wisdom with us. But, the moment where I felt God saving me was as Anne begin to challenge us to serve others in this same way. To step forward in a slow and steady way with our time, talents and resources. To view our lives as a march from San Diego to Maine and to cover 20 miles, 20 miles, 20 miles. To daily cover 20 miles and to do this in our service too. It was a deep soul confirmation for me. Just the night before I sat with my husband and shared my anxiety over the future. We know the direction God is leading us. It is to launch a missional church in our community. We have seen that God is working and that we are called to step out and lead small groups of people on a faith journey as we love our neighbors and are present. We know that is the direction we are being called. But, there are so many areas of ambiguity between here and there. How to start? What steps to take? The voices that taunt and tell us that we are not capable. How do we provide for our family as we take these steps?

I had a big moment of doubt as the ambiguity of all these details made me want to just shut the door and stop pressing forward.

God's saving grace to me was that He reiterated His heart for people to be taken on a journey by NORMAL people (not necessarily the best teachers or leading pastors of our generation) and that He would lead us 20 miles at a time. At the very end of Anne's talk she looked at the room and said, "God is moving here. He is going to bring revival to this neighborhood. He is going to use this community to impact Orange County and our nation. He is working." The bubble of excitement in her voice and the confirmation of her feeling what the Spirit is speaking to our hearts as well. God's grace to me. And I could see it written on the other women's faces too - we have tasted and seen that God is working and is doing something.

Where do you need God to save you today?

I need His voice to guide me on the path that He has layed out for me and my family. I can get caught up in a week from now and lose sight of today.

I need Him to show me that this verse is truth:

"Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path." - Psalm 119:105

That as I walk my 20 miles, 20 miles, 20 miles - that He will show me what path to take step by step. Even the 20 miles that lay out ahead are too far for me to see. I need to feel Him whispering guidance in each step.