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  • What Running Reveals about Life

    I’ve run 84 miles in the last 17 days (no, I’m not training for anything in particular, and yes, I’ve just wanted to), and those long runs have taught me some valuable lessons. First, if running in the South Carolina summer, try to run in the morning before the heat and humidity make you feel like this.

    Second, invest in good running shoes. Third, no matter how good your running shoes are, your feet will still hurt after 84 miles.

    More than those lessons, though, I have come to realize that what you experience on a long run is a metaphor for what you experience in life. Here’s why.

    • When you first set out on your adventure, everything seems good. Your playlist is set, your legs are fresh, and you feel like a gazelle bounding through the morning mist. But as the miles go on, you realize your sock is crooked, the tag in your shorts is slowly driving you mad, and the hitch in your right hip isn’t getting any better. In other words, the Utopian picture you painted in your head isn’t your reality, and you just have to slog through the miles. Sometimes, slogging is all you can do. Slogging is good. Stopping isn’t.
    • There will be poop. At some point, you will see it, smell it, or heaven forbid, step in it. Poop is out there, and one day you will be its victim. You can’t always avoid it, and sometimes the only thing you can do is wipe it off and keep on going. Poop happens. It’s all about how you respond to it.
    • You will find yourself judging the yards of the houses you run past. Your critical eye will see the tall grass and weed-ridden flower beds, and you will wonder how the occupants seem not to care about lawn maintenance. And then you will run up your own driveway and see the weeds growing with great freedom in your own flower beds. So you will repent. (And probably repeat the pattern the next day.) Judge not lest ye be judged.
    • Not everyone will wave back at you. Not every car will move over to give you room. Sometimes, you will have to jump into the bushes because drivers are staring at their phones instead of the road. So, yeah, other people can be irritating and not very nice. True on a run; true in real life. Wave to them anyway, and when they run you off the road, refrain from making hand gestures or trying to chase them down. Take Elsa’s advice and let it go.
    • Minor irritations will give you blisters. No matter how well you protect your feet, they will betray you. A runner’s feet are a sight to behold. Bulging blisters and black toenails – no one can say we runners don’t take our sport seriously. Until you lose part of your phalanges to repeated pressure, you’re not hard-core enough. (I’m not sure of the metaphor here. Work until your toenails fall off? Sure. We’ll go with that. Oh wait – I think it was more about minor irritations. Don’t let them be the cause of your blisters.)
    • You will become calloused. Repetitive friction has given many runners ugly callouses, and life can do the same to your heart. Whenever there is constant pressure, a callous can form. While intended to provide protection, callouses that continue to grow can also cause pain. Callouses in our hearts can prevent us from feeling what we need to feel. Don’t let the callouses of life cut off your feeling. Feel all the feelings. 
    • You will run past parties you weren’t invited to. You will hear their laughter over the fence and smell their barbecues wafting through the air, and you will be sad. You will want to be there, at the party, and you won’t be. The lesson is that sometimes you will be on the other side of the fence – and you need to be ok with that. Keep running and plan your own party.
    • You will be tempted to judge people by their garbage. Piled by the curb, overflowing the massive green cans, garbage will be on display. You will see people’s food waste and evidence of their purchases, and you will be tempted to create stories in your mind. Don’t do this. Their garbage is no different from yours – it’s just visible. We all have garbage, and none of us want to be judged by it. You will also see trash on the ground as you run past, and you will leave it there because you think it’s not your problem. You might not have created it, but that doesn’t mean you can’t help clean it up.
    • Sometimes, when you’re at the farthest point of an out-and-back route, all you’ll want is to be home already. A hard truth is that it might take being super far away to realize where you really want to be. Distance can be a great teacher. 
    • There will be days when you feel like the greatest runner ever to lace up running shoes. Your breathing will be in perfect harmony with your steps, and you will end your route thinking, “I could do that all over again!” Likewise, there will be days when you feel like a hippopotamus thundering down the road, and you will be thinking, “I cannot take another step.” Don’t let either extreme define you. Take them in stride and know that you’ll be back somewhere in the middle soon.
    • Your pace doesn’t always need to match the sound in your ears. Just because Lecrae is rapping a million words a minute doesn’t mean you need to double-time it down the road. Likewise, Josh Groban’s gentle crooning doesn’t mean you need to slow to a crawl. The music of the world (get the analogy here?) will try to control your pace. Forget it. Listen to your breathing and heart rate, and you’ll know the right pace for yourself.
    • And finally, running will teach you that you need to take some breaks. You can’t run a million miles a day at a million miles an hour and not suffer some consequences. Your body needs your brain to be ok with taking a day off. Sleep in, go out with friends, read a book. Your time off will make your time training more effective. It will also make you remember that your run – and you – aren’t the center of the universe. And when is that a bad thing?

  • Wordy Wednesday – Opposites Edition

    This week’s books could not be any more opposite, but I love them equally. Both are nonfiction, my favorite genre, and while their topics are nothing alike, they both have such profound lessons that they are well worth your time and money. I recommend buying your own copies because you will want to highlight and underline something on every page!

    Without further adieu, this week’s selections.

    Undone: A Story of Making Peace with an Unexpected Life by Michele Cushatt.

    Click here to purchase from Amazon.
    This book had me at the subtitle. I saw it recommended on social media, which is where I hear about a lot of what I choose to read, and from the minute the Amazon Prime fairy placed it in my mailbox, I was enamored. Both the story and the writing style are beautiful, and Cushatt will make you cry and silently whisper “Amen.”

    The back cover says, “She never expected a devastating divorce and single motherhood. Or a second marriage marred by the challenges of a blended family. Undaunted, Michele worked hard to put her upside-down life back in order. Until, at the age of thirty-nine, she received a cancer diagnosis. And eight months later, she opened her near empty-nest home to three little ones in crisis. The resulting chaos proved far more than she could contain.”

    Michele Cushatt’s life certainly became undone, and she has faced more unexpected hardships in a short period than the vast majority of people ever do. Yet she has not turned to bitter whining or faithless “why me’s?”. She has doggedly continued her pursuit of true intimacy with Christ, and this book is ripe with honesty. I guess that’s why I love it so much – it resonated.

    My unexpected life did not involve a cancer diagnosis, but I cried as I read these words: “I’ve talked to countless other cancer survivors, of all extents and varieties. The one commonality we all share is the unexpected grief. Even when we’re given a good shot at a long life, even when we have great doctors and the hope of positive outcomes, we experience a deep and profound loss. Cancer is a thief, stealing what we didn’t even know we had until it was too late. The innocence is gone, replaced by an acute awareness of the dark flip side of life.”

    Regardless of whether your life has included unexpected tragedies that changed everything, Michele has a word for you. Her greatest lessons are on faith, and this is one of my favorite quotes: “…faith in the middle of the unknowns is the only real kind.” Yes, and amen. Buy this book, and buy extra copies for those you love who are in the middle of life-changing hardships. They need its truth and hope.

    Made to Stick: Why Some Ideas Survive and Others Die by Chip Heath & Dan Heath


    Click here to purchase from Amazon.
    Love. This. Book.

    If you ever need to say anything that people should remember, this book is a must. Teachers, this should be required reading before you teach another child. Businessmen, pastors, speakers of any kind – you need this information.

    Reminiscent of Malcolm Gladwell’s books, this one is chock full of stories and unexpected trivia that will make you scratch your head and say, “Duh! Why didn’t I think of that?! How did I go 35 years without knowing that?”

    I cannot tell you how many notes I made in the margins for myself to “try at school!”. The brothers Heath explain in detail what they call The Curse of Knowledge, which is basically when we become experts in something and forget what it’s like not to know it. (For example – try teaching a child to tie his shoes. Your patience slows to a trickle as you just can’t get how he doesn’t get it. The Curse of Knowledge.) This is what teachers are up against every single day. What is great about the book, though, is that you actually learn how to combat it. Practical knowledge is embedded in every chapter. For example, they talk in great length about the importance of being concrete in what you say and do. Forget being abstract – concreteness rules.

    When a group called Beyond War was trying to raise public awareness of the reality of nuclear weapons in the Cold War, they wanted to make the statistics more concrete. So a leader began carrying a metal bucket to meetings. He would drop a single BB in, saying, “This is the Hiroshima bomb.” He would describe the devastation in detail. Then he’d drop in 10 BBs and say, “This is the firepower of the missiles on one U.S. or Soviet nuclear submarine.” As the book describes, “Finally, he asked the attendees to close their eyes. He’d say, ‘This is the world’s current arsenal of nuclear weapons.’ Then he poured 5,000 BBs in the bucket (one for every nuclear warhead in the world). The noise was startling, even terrifying. ‘The roar of the BBs went on and on… Afterwards there was always dead silence.’”

    The statistics alone weren’t enough to provoke reaction. The concrete comparison to BBs was. Concreteness is just one of the qualities the Heath brothers say is necessary to make something memorable.

    Throughout this brilliantly-written book, the authors get to the core of why we remember some things and don’t remember others. It’s because of what they call “sticky ideas,” which have 6 key qualities: simplicity, unexpectedness, concreteness, credibility, emotional, and stories.

    A fascinating read and practically useful resource, Made to Stick is a book for everyone.

    So there you have it – two books I love and think you will, too. Do you have any books in particular you want me to review? Any specific questions? Let me know!

     

  • Tuesday’s Takeaway

    Each week, I’ll be writing about my takeaway from Sunday’s sermon at 4 Points Church. Some weeks I will summarize, and some weeks I will focus on one main idea. This week, it’s all about the pit and the palace. To view the sermon, visit this link.


    There’s a difference between believing in God and believing God. A huge difference, and for much of my life, I was stuck there.

    Yes, I believed that God existed. I knew it and never doubted it. But I did – and sometimes still do – doubt Him. The Words He said and the Words He gave often feel like they’re contradicting my life. Believing in God? I’m good. Believing all He says and all He promises? That’s where I struggle. Does it make me unspiritual to say so? Oh well. Then I am.

    His Word says, “…the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deut. 31:6). It’s hard to believe that (and easy to doubt it) when everyone else has left and you can’t feel God anywhere. Doubting it is easy because we try to fit Him into the mold that other people have made for us. People leave. People forsake. We doubt God because we believe He is like people. News flash – He isn’t.

    His Word says that his plans are to prosper us and not to harm us, to give us hope and a future (Jer. 29:11). While this is ultimately true, it may not in the immediate appear that way. When Joseph’s brothers threw him into the pit in Genesis and Potiphar’s wife lied and caused his imprisonment, he suffered in prison and must have wondered how this was God’s good plan to prosper him. How was this plan giving him a future? Here’s how – without the pit and prison, he never would have been in a position to be elevated in Pharaoh’s palace. The pit and prison were intermediary but necessary steps on the way to God’s ultimate plan.

    This is where we so often falter – “We get stuck in our circumstances because we forget God’s already been where we’re going” (Pastor Mark).

    Our lives look like puzzles, and we become consumed looking at one tiny piece, forgetting there’s a beautiful picture being made, albeit slowly. We look at the only pieces we can see, trying to understand how they fit – and trying to force them when we don’t understand. As Pastor Mark reminded us, “You don’t have to understand to trust God.” There’s such freedom in that statement. Trust frees us from trying to figure it all out. It reminds us that our loving and grace-giving God only has our ultimate good in mind, so we can release the pieces into His capable hands and just trust.

    But here’s the rub: we want the blessing from God, and we want it now. We want the pit and prison to quickly be removed and to be elevated to our palace. We look for it and demand it. But if God can’t trust you in the pit and prison – the valley you are in – then He can’t trust you with the blessing. Joseph’s position in the palace would never have been his if he had turned his back on God in the prison. So often we try to climb our way out of the pit, thinking it was never God’s plan for us to be there, while all the while He was trying to get our attention and make us palace-ready in it. Valleys build stamina for the mountaintops; pits prepare us for palaces. Sometimes the greatest act of faith is to stand still in the pit, lacking understanding, and say, “I will trust you here, and I will wait for your perfectly-timed deliverance.”

    No place you are is accidental; no valley is unplanned. Delivery is coming – your job is to allow your faith to be built and your heart to be prepared. Genesis 50:20 reminds us that the pits aren’t permanent and that God’s working in them all. “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done…” We might not be able to see what’s coming, but we can stand in assurance of Who is coming. The Deliverer whose plan is only for our good – both in the pit and in the palace.

  • Any Minute Now: A Reminder for Teachers

    So, teacher. You’re feeling anxious. And excited. And overwhelmed.

    I get that.

    Any minute now, you’ll be facing a room of expectant young faces, and you’re probably not sure if you can meet all the expectations. Let’s get this out of the way up front – you can’t.

    You can’t meet all of their expectations, or their parents’, or your administrators’.

    Most importantly, you won’t be able to meet all of your own.

    You just can’t. You are one person, and one person can only do so much.

    I know you. I know that this summer, you’ve seen ideas on Pinterest you’ve thought might be amazing in your room. I know you saw that sale at Office Max and stocked up on colored pencils and colored copy paper. As you were reading on the beach, you dog-eared passages that you want to share as beautiful examples of prose. The teacher in you might have slept later and might not have graded papers this summer, but you didn’t stop being a teacher. You thought of what didn’t work last year and what might be better this year, and you imagined what you could do to make a bigger difference.

    In other words, you continued to build the mountain of expectations that sits on a teacher’s shoulders. The mountain that, if not examined and realistically sifted through, can become a burden. The mountain that grows with every new piece of legislation and every new set of standards and every new piece of technology. The mountain that we want so badly to scale and daily feel like is growing.

    So here’s my humble advice to you who desires so badly to conquer the world in your classroom this year. (It’s also my advice to myself.)

    Keep the main thing the main thing. 

    Details sometimes are the devil’s playground, and in a classroom, details can overwhelm and consume you to the point you feel like all of your efforts are in vain.

    They are not, and to be honest, some of the details we so intently consume ourselves with are unimportant. (Ouch, right? They are, some of them. Believe this perfectionist.  Some details are unimportant.) You cannot do it all, so you need to honestly assess what you can do. What you MUST do. You cannot – and must not – do it all.

    I don’t know the details of your curriculum, and I don’t know the details of your students’ lives. I don’t know the exact pressures you feel, and I don’t know your inner dialogue right now. What I do know is this: children will be sitting in your classroom very soon, and those children need you. Sure, they should know multiplication and mitosis, and I’m convinced cursive handwriting should be on that list, too. They should know a lot of the standards we teach, and they should know a lot that we don’t. But what do they need? They need you.

    They need an adult who cares and shows it. They need an adult who listens. They need an adult who sees that they’re scared, and they need an adult to hear what they can’t say. They need an adult who won’t accept excuses, but they also need an adult who knows not every case is the same.

    They need you. You might be feeling unqualified or under-trained, incompetent or ill-equipped. You might be feeling a whole heap of things we teachers feel, and you might be feeling like you’ll fail before you begin.

    I’ll say it again. Keep the main thing the main thing.

    The main thing is the hearts of those children who will be sitting in your classroom. Yes, the brain must be taught, but the brain won’t learn if the heart isn’t safe. Your task is to make it so (even if your job isn’t). You went into this field because you wanted to make a difference. We all did. Yes, we love our content. But more than that, we need to love our kids.

    I have a stack of things to do nearby, and I have a list a mile long. I have pressures I’m already putting on myself, and I have pressures I feel from outside. But I’m telling myself this before I tackle all of that: keep the main thing the main thing. Love those kids. Expect a lot. Listen a lot. Laugh a lot. The kids are the main thing. The details are secondary.

  • Old Hag – When Whispered Lies Are Louder than Truth

    She looked beautiful, and I resented her for it.
    The picture posted on social media twisted my heart in such a vise that at first I couldn’t identify why I was suddenly angry and simultaneously needing to cry. Everything in the picture screamed out at me, “Look at what she has! Look at all you’re not.” Her outfit was form-flattering (and clearly not from Target), her gorgeous hair looked like she had just come from the salon, and even her house in the background looked like part of a photo shoot.
    Meanwhile, I had just seen in my own bathroom mirror the stretch marks on my hips, the distribution of pounds that gravity clearly was having its way with, and the gray hair that grows with reckless abandon.
    I felt like an old hag, truth be told, and her beauty pointed its finger in my face.
    “You’re ugly,” it whispered. “Why do you even bother? It’ll never be enough. You’ll never be enough. You’re old, you’re past your prime, and her type of beauty is what people want to see.”
    I don’t even know her well, this beauty whose picture mocked me. Yet in that moment I allowed Satan’s whispers of my perceived inadequacy to turn my heart against her.
    Why do I give Instagram the power to shame me when I’ve done nothing wrong? Why does social media get to tell me what I’m worth?

                                                                              *******
    I read the words her fingers had typed, and rather than being thankful her thoughts had reached my heart, I sank into sadness that she had penned them instead of me. I looked back over her previous posts, and the more I read, the more discouraged I became. 

    I felt like a failure as a writer, truth be told, and her success mocked my longings to write and be heard.

    “You’re not talented,” it whispered. “Why do you even bother? It’ll never be enough. You’ll never be enough. You’re mediocre, you’re dreaming foolish dreams, and her words are what people really want to hear.”

    I don’t know her at all, this writer whose words mocked me. Yet in that moment I allowed Satan’s whispers of my perceived inadequacy to turn my heart against her.

    Why do I allow the successes of others to make me feel like a failure? Why does a comparison game get to tell me what I’m worth?

                                                                             *******

    I looked around the conference room as hundreds of chatting women took their seats. Professionally dressed and perfectly made-up, they looked so poised and confident. Meanwhile, I was fighting a lump in my throat and had already texted my husband, “I’m ready to come home.” I felt like an outsider, a feeling that took me back to third grade awkwardness.

    I didn’t belong, at least not in my head, and that’s all that mattered in the moment.

    I felt invisible, truth be told, and their self-confidence laughed at my knocking knees.

    “You aren’t worth seeing,” it whispered. “Why do you even bother? It’ll never be enough. You’ll never be enough. You’re forgettable, you’re nothing special, and there’s no room here for you.”

    I don’t know their names, those women whose self-assurance mocked me. Yet in that moment I allowed Satan’s whispers of my perceived inadequacy to turn my heart against them.

    Why do I allow my perceptions to become my reality? Why do whispered lies get to tell me what I’m worth?

                                                                          *******

    One of Satan’s greatest ploys in the lives of women is to convince us that we are unimportant, ineffective, and irrelevant. And because he knows our individual weaknesses, he knows exactly where to strike. He whispers his venomous untruths into the areas we hold most sacred – our dreams, our worth, our relationships…

    His lies are rarely outlandish. If they were, we would recognize them as such and call his bluff. Instead, he combines his lies with the truth we haven’t cemented in our hearts and causes us to question whether anything is really true. He is a roaring lion stalking us so silently we often don’t hear his sneak attacks.

    I wish I had a surefire solution for you. I’d love to tell you I’ve solved my problem of listening to whispered lies, but then I’d be a liar myself. I’m still working on it, and these are the verses I’m praying.

    “Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:1-2

    My task (and yours)? Lay aside the encumbrances – those comparisons and small untruths that can derail us. Lay them aside, giving them no weight in our lives. Lay them aside, moving them out of the path that contains “the race that is set before us.” My race doesn’t look like yours – and it doesn’t look like those of the people I compare myself with. Lay aside the encumbrances and then, just this: fix our eyes on Jesus. When our gaze is on Him and Him alone, we don’t have the need to look around us at others. We don’t have the desire to one-up anyone – we only desire to lift Him up.

    Jesus is the author of our faith, but He is also its perfecter. Our faith in its beginning is rudimentary – incomplete, immature, and as imperfect things often are, inaccurate. Only Jesus can sustain our faith and deepen it, bringing it to maturity and, ultimately, perfection. When whispered lies become our truths, we are pushing aside Jesus’ perfecting power and choosing to encounter encumbrances and sin.

    Jesus wants to speak to you today and every day and to replace the lies with truth. Donald Miller says, “God’s involvement in our lives is often obvious when we look back. The trick is to believe He’s involved right now.” That’s the only secret I have – believing Him in the now. Look for Him in the now, listen to Him in the now, and allow every now to be filled with His truth.

    Linking up today at christianmommyblogger,com 

  • Wordy Wednesday: To Read or Not to Read

    I love books.

    I love how word-magicians weave their words into sentences we’ve never seen and cause us to think what we’ve never thought before. I love to hold a book – made of paper and ink – and circle the phrases that punch me in the gut. I love to reread familiar stories and see what I missed before.

    I love books.

    Here are my thoughts on some I’ve read this summer.

    • How Children Succeed: Grit, Curiosity, and the Hidden Power of Character by Paul Tough. If you work with children in any capacity, you must read this one. My favorite part was all about rats (which you might think are totally disconnected from human children other than the messes they make, but you would be wrong. Fascinating stuff). Two groups of baby rats (pups) were studied, and the astounding finding was that pups who were licked and groomed by adult rats after highly stressful events performed better on subsequent tests. “They were better at mazes. They were more social. They were more curious. They were less aggressive. They had more self-control. They were healthier. They lived longer” (30). The implication for humans is that nurturing in early childhood – regardless of whether it comes from a biological parent or not – sets us up for success in multiple areas later. What did this book teach me? That I need to be a mama rat for my own pups and those under my influence. Worth your money? Oh yeah.
    • The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins. This fictional story is one that slowly builds and gradually gives details that mess with your mind. Reminiscent of Gone Girl (but not nearly as exciting), it’s about a girl named Rachel who rides a train past the homes of people she feels like she knows. She becomes involved in a criminal investigation related to the people in the homes, and you’re left wondering what in the world is going on. I know this all seems kind of vague, but it has to be. If I tell you much more, it’ll be too much. The bottom line? Entertaining if you have hours to kill on the beach, but I would check it out from the library rather than spend my money on it. 
    • All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. Oh, this one. Don’t let its thickness deter you. Read this one, and then read it again. The story’s protagonist Marie-Laure is blind, and her father helps her learn the set-up of their neighborhood by building mini replicas. She and her father have to run away to her great-uncle’s house after the Nazis invade Paris, and there’s the added drama that they might have with them a jewel that brings danger and incredible value. Werner, an orphan who ends up in the Hitler youth because of his knack for radios, eventually crosses paths with Marie-Laure. It’s a heartbreaking, beautiful story. Worth the time and money? Every bit.
    • Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee. Y’all. I can’t even. Look, I teach To Kill a Mockingbird, and if I have another child, my husband will have to pin me down to keep from using Scout somewhere in the name. Atticus is the most perfect fictional character I know, and I feel like Jem and Calpurnia are family. So when I started reading this book (because I felt I had a duty to do so as an English teacher), I felt betrayed. Jem is dead, Scout is called Jean Louise, and Calpurnia has turned against the little girl she raised. Atticus is a racist, and the earth feels like it is spinning out of orbit. My perfect little Maycomb no longer looks familiar. My recommendation? Read it if you must, and then forget you ever read it. I’m going back to Mockingbird and choosing to believe it is what Harper Lee really wanted out there. It’s the only way I can cope.
    Have you read any of these? Tell me what you think! Need some more recommendations? Check back next Wednesday!

  • Fashion&Compassion

    When you go to a writing conference, you don’t expect God to give you a word about what’s in your closet. But since He rarely does what I expect anyway, that’s exactly what He did to me this weekend.

    While I was at the amazing She Speaks conference in Charlotte, NC, I had some time to kill between sessions and visited a booth displaying super cute jewelry and accessories. When I learned more about what was on display and the women who had created it, I wanted to cry. And buy everything I saw.

    The booth was set up by Fashion&Compassion, an organization that employs women in the United States and other countries who have faced what you and I probably cannot imagine. Women who were once trafficked for sex, women who are living with HIV, women whose husbands have abandoned them and who now must provide for their children in third-world countries. The artisans making the beautiful items are given hope and financial security because of Fashion&Compassion.

    As I was touching the pieces and seeing the beautiful faces of artisans standing near me, I was convicted to my core. I have a closet full of jewelry, accessories, and clothing, and I have no idea where any of it was made – or who was exploited so I could purchase it inexpensively. The money I spent on all of it didn’t give anyone hope.

    But I know who made the necklaces and bracelet I bought. Alice and Paty. Alice, a widow and mother of four, left witchcraft and now follows Jesus because of the influence of Fashion&Compassion. Paty from Ecuador made my bracelet from nuts and seeds. I will think of them – and see their faces – when I wear the handmade pieces.

    Please consider visiting Fashion&Compassion’s website and purchasing some beautiful and meaningful pieces. There are women – sisters in Christ – whose lives will be made better.

  • Join Me for First 5!

    I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited about an app than I am for the First 5 app, and I want you to join me in its official launch tomorrow morning!
    Proverbs 31 is an incredible ministry that takes the word of God to people all over the world, and it has developed an app to wake you each morning with Scripture. You simply set your alarm within the app, and the first thing you’ll see every morning is a short devotion. Before Facebook and Twitter can steal your thoughts and distract your heart, First 5 will take your thoughts directly to the One who made you and loves you. The devotions are designed to take 5 minutes and to be a manageable way to give God what Lysa Terkeurst calls your “Genesis thoughts” – those first thoughts that set the tone for the entire day.

    The First 5 website says, “We say we put God first… So wouldn’t it make sense that we give Him the first 5 minutes of each day?”
    All you have to do is search for the First 5 app in your app store (it’s available for Android and Apple devices), download for free, and log in. It’s that easy. 
    Here’s what I’m looking for: a group of people who will commit to giving God their first five minutes for the next 2 weeks. I believe God will honor our efforts and transform something within us, and I can’t wait to see what He does! If you’ll commit to this with me, subscribe with this link and join the group. I’ll email you, and we can share what God does in us as we study His Word. It’s going to be an amazing two weeks!
    For more information, go to first5.org. 

  • When You Want to Skip Mother’s Day

    2011.
    Mother’s Day was coming, and I was dreading it. My first holiday as a single mom, my birthday, had been excruciating, but I dreaded this day even more. Mothers and fathers are a pair, but I wasn’t part of a pair anymore. I was newly alone, very single, and still trying to figure out which way was up. My children were too young to think of or buy gifts, so I feared that the day would go unrecognized and I would be miserable. I knew it would be hard. Hard had become a way of life, and holidays were a type of hard I had never experienced before. Holidays were supposed to bring joy, but all they brought were real reminders of a reality I wished weren’t mine.
    Mother’s Day.
    I wanted to skip it.
    When the day came, though, it wasn’t as bad as I imagined it might be, and the only reason it wasn’t was my own mom. She made it better than it had to be. That’s what moms do, isn’t it? They make it better, whatever it is.
    My mom had taken my kids a few days before, giving me some very needed relief. Unbeknownst to me, she was also making Mother’s Day happen for me, her own baby. She knew just what agony I was feeling, and she knew I needed just a little relief. So she put her Mimi skills to work and helped my children make things for me. First, she posed their little arms into the letters of LOVE, framing their sweet faces for me. These pictures still hang in my kitchen.
    She also had them create sweet vases of flowers that wouldn’t die, their thumbprints forever captured in paint. They sit in my classroom where I see them every day.

    Mother’s Day is supposed to be a day when we celebrate and honor our own mothers, but for me, in 2011, Mother’s Day was a day that solidified the reality of what mothers do. They forget about themselves and do whatever it takes to help their babies. Even if their babies are 31 with babies of their own. Even if they can’t take the pain completely away, they do everything in their power to soothe it. Mothers work behind the scenes every day on their children’s behalf, and sometimes, a mother’s love is the only thing that helps.
    2011? It was just what I needed.

  • I Wish I Had Known They Were Lasts

    I can’t remember the final time I bathed either of my children.

     

    For years, I scrubbed their tiny bodies with Johnson’s, my knees screaming for mercy as I kneeled beside the tub. Night after night, I wrapped their sweet-smelling pink flesh in hooded towels and wrestled their slippery selves as I forced their toes into feety-pajamas. I slathered chunky thighs with pink lotion, combed wisps of baby-fine hair, stacked bath toys in their usual spots, and mopped up rivers of bath water cascading through the bathroom. Every night, we had our routine.
    And now it’s done.
    My big kids bathe themselves now, and although I used to long for this day to arrive, it’s bittersweet. Sure, it’s nice to say, “Go take your shower” and sit on the couch while it happens, but some nights I’d give anything to watch them marvel at splashing again or to shampoo their hair myself. Sometimes, I’d love to see baby toys sitting where big-kid shampoo and loofahs now do. What I wouldn’t do to wrap their warm bodies in hooded towels and snuggle them against me one more time.
    Lasts are hard, but sometimes only after the fact. They’re hard because we don’t know that they’re lasts. There was no big ceremony for the last bath I gave. There was just a gradual releasing of that task to finally-able hands. I didn’t know the last diaper-change would be just that, because in the moment I seriously doubted that potty-training would ever catch on.
    I had no idea as I brushed teeth for the last time that I’d never do it again, and I couldn’t have imagined as I man-handled toddlers into car seats that one day they’d just buckle themselves.

    Motherhood makes your soul scream, doesn’t it? When the pregnancy test shows positive, you scream with excitement and wonder that you and the man you love have created a life who will walk in this world. When the hormones rage, you scream for the nausea to stop and for chocolate in any form. When the first contraction hits and you feel like you’re splitting in two, your body screams for that child to just get out while your soul screams, “I don’t think I’m ready yet!”

    When your squishy-faced miracle breathes on his own for the first time and is cut free from your life-giving body, your soul screams in praise to the Creator of all life and your heart changes forever.
    Each day after your name becomes “mom” is a soul-scream of pleasure and pain. Sleep-deprivation and feelings of inadequacy make you howl that you’re just messing up, but 30 minutes later he coos as you sing and you know that you’re doing it right. Every day, without fail, your mom-life is a dance of horror and wonder, and your soul screams at the amazement of both.
    I know there are more lasts headed my way. The last day of elementary school is weeks away for my son, and both children put away their own laundry as it is. I rarely make lunches anymore, and they can pick out their own clothes (with relative success). Lasts are a part of this life as a mom, and my goal for today is to remember the sadness that previous lasts have wrought and treasure the moments I know will end. School drop-off lines are a pain in this moment, but I’m sure they don’t compare to the pain of watching a teenager drive himself to high school. Entertaining nine-year-old boys might not be the most relaxing way to spend a Saturday, but playdates will come to an end and those boys will move away.
    One day will be the last time I wash his sheets, and one night will be the last he spends in his bed at home.
    Lasts will come whether we want them to or not, so in light of the sadness of future lasts, let’s enjoy the now that still is.