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  • What I’ve Learned about Life and Myself, at Age 37

     

    There aren’t many things I know for sure in life, but here are some that I do:

    1. I should have started lathering my face in Oil of Olay the day I was born. Strange things start happening to your skin in your mid-30s, and it’s too late to prevent them when you actually begin to notice them.
    2. I physically cannot sleep past 8:00 am anymore. My eyes pop open even when my body begs for more rest. It’s the darndest thing, and I now understand why elderly men cut grass at 7:00 am. They’re up. Might as well be productive.
    3. You can’t eat junk and expect exercise to burn it off. The McDonald’s fries I used to eat by the pound now cause me to gain weight just by smelling them. A decreasing metabolism is real, y’all. Jesus, be near.
    4. My children’s activity level increases in direct proportion to my need for quiet and rest.
    5. Nothing satisfies me more than spending an entire day reading. 
    6. The world doesn’t end if I leave dirty dishes in the sink, unwashed laundry in the hamper, or a pile of mail on the counter.
    7. Coffee is a necessity. Finding coffee grounds in my cup, however, makes me violent.
    8. We adults talk about “kids these days” being addicted to social media, but the most addicted people I know are adults.
    9. Trying to change someone’s mind about politics is like trying to stop smelling like dog poop without taking off the poop-covered shoes. Impossible.
    10. If I don’t plan meals ahead of time, there’s a 99% chance Chick-Fil-A will be our dinner.
    11. It was great, once upon a time, to be able to move my body without it creaking and cracking.
    12. There are about 5 outfits in my closet I really like to wear. Everything else is there for the hypothetical “one day” and “maybe.” 
    13. You can buy me the prettiest journal in the world, but I’ll still end up writing in a spiral-bound notebook out of fear that my words won’t be worthy of the pretty journal.
    14. The idea of eating by myself in public used to terrify me. Now? Not a problem. Sometimes it’s a blessing.
    15. I’m nowhere near where I once pictured I’d be at age 37. Everything looks completely different. But better.
    16. I still don’t always feel like an adult. Sometimes I look around and wonder when the grown-up will take over.
    17. When I’m stressed to the max, a little sweet tea doesn’t hurt.
    18. A little sweet tea always leads to a lot of sweet tea. Which leads back to #3.
    19. It used to be really hard for me to be different from everyone else. But now I’m the mom who bought her child a flip phone from Walmart instead of a smart one, and I’m totally OK being in that category by myself.
    20. I don’t mind cooking if someone will just tell me what to fix. For the love, don’t make me come up with the idea AND shop for it AND fix it. I just can’t.
    21. Life goes on. The times I thought would kill me made me better, and the days it felt like the earth would stop spinning turned into new days. Nothing lasts forever, and for that, let us say AMEN.

  • The Other Woman Is Not Your Enemy

     

    Her beautiful face smiled at me through the computer screen, the perfectly-lit picture just underneath the words describing her success. From my couch in my den, her life seemed perfect. Clear skin, white teeth, and a business making her family extra cash. I was still in my pajamas, looking at the mountain of unfolded laundry spilling out of the clothes basket. I was trying to muster the energy to begin my day’s work, trying to convince myself that what I was doing even mattered at all.

    And before my morning coffee was even cool enough to drink, I branded myself a failure.

    I didn’t know her, and I certainly didn’t understand the details of her life, but through a post shared by a mutual friend, I saw a piece of her world. And the piece looked amazing.

    In that moment, I let myself believe that she and her perfect-looking life were my competition.

    That other woman? She felt like my enemy.

    *****

    I walked down the aisles of the grocery store, hurriedly throwing items into the shopping cart, desperate to get home and cook dinner as quickly as possible.

    I had failed to plan ahead yet again, so rather than dinner waiting on my family, my family would have to wait on dinner. Yet again.

    As I rounded the corner to grab what was next on my list, I nearly ran into a woman wearing her tiny baby across her chest. It took a moment to register, but then I realized I recognized her face. She hadn’t changed much since high school, still smooth-faced and smiling, slim and stylish.

    Her perfectly styled hair mocked my own messy bun, and her muscular arms made me wish I were wearing sleeves.

    Her infant was no more than three months old, but this new mom’s body belied the fact she had just become a mother. She had no belly pudge, no dimpled thighs in her athletic shorts, and no extra flesh or matronly arms.

    Her body looked amazing, and her maternity leave was barely over.

    My own kids could read and ride bikes, and I was still fighting my baby fat.

    That other woman? She felt like my enemy.

    *****

    I curled up with my new book, anxious to read the words so many others had recommended. “You’ve got to read this,” they said, and they went on and on about how good it was.

    As I did, I understood why their reviews were so great.

    This author got it. She wrote with just the right mix of humor and grace, with perfect one-liners stopping you in your tracks. I wanted to highlight nearly everything she wrote, and I knew I’d be recommending it to my friends, too.

    But as I read more, turning page after page, her perfectly-written words began to taunt me. The voice in my head whispered, “You’ll never write like she does. There’s a reason people read what she writes, and there’s a reason they’ll never read you.”

    Her mastery of our craft made my fumblings feel like failures. Her thousands of followers and multiple best-sellers felt like goals that would always remain out of my reach. Her successes felt like omens predicting my demise.

    That other woman? She, too, felt like my enemy.

    *****

    To be a woman is to live at war. I suppose that’s true for men, too, isn’t it? It’s true for every human.

    To be a human is to live at war, constantly fighting battles big and small.

    A battle over your emotions. A battle against weight gain. A battle for the promotion. A battle against time.

    But a battle against someone else? That’s not a battle we’re supposed to be fighting. The other person? The other woman? She is not your enemy.

    It’s so easy to get caught up in Satan’s tricks, looking at other people with suspicion and contempt. It’s tempting to think it’s us against them, their way against ours. It’s so natural to believe only one of us can succeed, and if someone else is, then we aren’t.

    But the reality is not the thing we’re tempted to believe, and it’s not what comes so naturally and easily. The reality is that the other woman is not your enemy.

    The reality is that she should be an ally.

    Because here’s the truth God commands us to remember but Satan begs us to forget: we are not fighting against flesh and blood. We are all fighting against powers we can’t see, powers in this present darkness (Ephesians 6:12). We have an enemy, and it’s not each other.  Right after this verse, we are told to put on the full armor of God. But I love what it says right before – “draw your strength from the Lord and from his mighty power” (10).

    Too many of us are trying to draw strength from being better than our imagined enemy. We’re trying to draw strength from being the best, the prettiest, the most successful, the skinniest. We’re trying to draw strength away from another person, stealing her strength to make up for our own lack.

    A person’s strength will never be enough.

    Being better than someone else will never truly satisfy.

    Playing comparison games will never bring peace to our souls.

    We have a real enemy – but it’s not the woman whose beauty mocks you on Facebook. It’s not the woman who received the promotion you thought you earned. And it’s not the woman who seems to do everything better than you.

    The real enemy is the one who whispers every lie. It’s the one who deflects the attention from himself onto someone else. It’s the one who wants you to forget about him so you’ll continue to live in defeat.

    The real enemy is the liar, the thief, and the destroyer.

    It’s not the other woman.

  • Why We Need to Listen to Our Feelings

     

    There’s nothing worse than when someone tries to talk you out of your feelings.

    When they say, “You shouldn’t feel that way,” or “You’re just being silly,” what they’re really saying is “What you are feeling is wrong.” And maybe it is, but you feel what you feel. And regardless of its rightness or wrongness, what you need in the moment you feel it is understanding, not condemnation.

    Yesterday, a sweet friend messaged me, asking about a big project I’m working on. She’s been there for me behind the scenes of it, cheering me along and encouraging me when I want to quit. Now that I’m very near the finish line, I told her what I’m feeling – “I’m terrified.” Because I am. I’m terrified that it will be a flop, that my months of work will have been spent in vain and that people will reject the project outright. I’m scared that my project will not be anything anyone wants, and I’m scared that I’ll never succeed and will only see failure.

    So I told her the truth, that I’m terrified.

    And because she’s a wise friend, her reply was, “I know you are.” She reminded me of some truths and encouraged me with some kind words, but she never said I was ridiculous for feeling how I feel. Because feelings – whether right or wrong – always reveal something about the internal battles I’m facing. And when I refuse to acknowledge the feelings, keeping them hidden in the dark and growing in their magnitude, I give them more power than they’re ever supposed to have. It’s only through admitting them that I can truly harness their power.

    Feelings aren’t always facts, but they’re always revealing. I can’t let them dominate my life, but I also can’t pretend they don’t exist.

    So right now, I’m admitting that in one area of my life, I’m pretty scared. Admitting the fear is helping me analyze it, searching for the lies I’m unknowingly accepting and the mindsets I need to change. Listening to the emotions allows me to choose if they can stay around. I get to have a say in whether I accept the feelings or kick them to the curb, and I like having that power.

    What are your emotions trying to tell you today? What feelings keep rising to the surface, drawing your attention to the deeper issues in your soul? Listen to them. Pay attention to what they’re revealing. Then choose whether to accept them or kick them to the curb.

     

    Interested in receiving a free printable? Click here to get “A Soul That Thirsts for the Lord.”

     

  • What to Tell Yourself When It’s Time to Wear a Bathing Suit

     

    OK, ladies. Take a deep breath.

    It’s time for bathing suits.

    It doesn’t matter if we weigh 100 pounds or if we’re 100 pounds overweight – bathing suit season gives us all anxiety, doesn’t it? All year long we look forward to the fun, lazy days of summer, and every year we try on tiny pieces of spandex in brightly lit dressing rooms and swear we’ll just wear mumus instead. Bathing suits were clearly invented by the devil.

    Isn’t it insane how these get-ups can bring out our greatest insecurities? Isn’t it amazing that fabric can reduce the strongest among us to tears?

    Every year when the weather gets warm, my sisters and I inevitably have a text message thread saying things like, “I’m trying on bathing suits. Kill me now,” or “Do you think it’s socially acceptable to wear a parka on the beach?” There’s a great camaraderie among women in bathing suits. It’s known as collective angst.

    Here’s the deal: very few women feel completely comfortable in bathing suits, and very few women can walk around in a suit without sucking in their guts or hoping their thighs don’t jiggle. Very few women can show off legs that lack cellulite, and very few women have perfect hourglass figures that modern suits are made to highlight. Very few women have perfect definition in their abs, and very few women look forward to putting on a bathing suit.

    Very few women have the perfect bathing suit body.

    And that’s ok. The purpose of our lives isn’t to look amazing in two pieces of spandex.

    I put on a bathing suit this morning, and as I did, these are the words I told myself. I thought you might need some of them, too:

    • My body does not exist to look good in a bathing suit. It exists to house the Holy Spirit and to carry the gospel to a hurting world.
    • My body is strong. It has carried and birthed children, and it has carried me through some really hard times.
    • Yes, my body is imperfect according to the world’s standards. But I don’t live to meet the world’s standards. I live to meet God’s.
    • I sometimes wish I were smaller, stronger, more toned, and more defined. But I will not let those wishes prevent me from appreciating my health, my family, and my opportunities for fun this summer.
    • I will not let myself feel badly about my appearance. I exercise, eat right, and make deliberate choices every day to preserve my health. I honor my body with those choices, and I will honor my body by appreciating what it can do instead of resenting how it looks.
    • My husband thinks I’m beautiful.
    • My daughter is watching how I treat my body and listening to what I say about it. I will not succumb to shame and leave her with a legacy of self-loathing. I will not. I will not. I will not.
    • My worth is not in my weight. My value is not in my bathing suit size. My contribution to the world is not how I look on the beach. My calling is not to turn heads.

     

    Ladies, I don’t know how you feel about your body today. I don’t know if you’ve been caring for it or neglecting it. I don’t know if you’ve defined yourself by it or have made peace with it. I don’t know if you cry in dressing rooms or feel triumph when you’ve mastered a workout. I don’t know where you are today with the shell for your soul. But can I encourage you with this?

    You are not the sum of your parts. You are not the size of your pants. You are worth far more than your weight, and your body is not a burden to bear.

    Do what you can to take care of your body, and then choose to make peace with how it looks. And when you put on that bathing suit for all the world to see, quietly remind yourself, “The purpose of my life isn’t to look great in spandex.”

     

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  • Why I Know Satan Is Real

     

    When you decide to write words for the internet to read, you have to develop a thick skin. People are at their bravest behind the anonymity of their keyboards, and they write words that can sting.

    I wrote a guest post once where I mentioned Satan deceiving us, and the comments were swift and sharp. I was made fun of for believing there’s an enemy, and I was mocked for blaming my problems on an unseen devil. And I guess I get it. If you’re not a Christian and don’t believe in the God of the Bible, it’s hard to believe in the devil of it, too.

    But I do. 100%.

    I believe in him because I’ve encountered him, and I know he’s real because I’ve been at the mercy of his attacks.

    Including yesterday.

    The story actually begins a few days ago, at church of all places. As I was serving in an area that needed extra help, I heard a whisper in my spirit – “You’re profoundly different.” Those words echoed in the silence of my mind. The words were not uplifting or positive, encouraging me to stand out in a crowd. They weren’t praising me for my individuality. No, they were condemning and cold, pointing out why my life is not (and never will be) like everyone else’s.

    The funny thing about how Satan works is that he often takes an element of truth and twists it to serve his own purposes. He is the father of lies, so he always injects a lie into a truth. Yes, my life is very different from other people’s. My family is different, and my mothering can’t be the same. I know this, and it’s been a struggle for me to accept. And Satan knows that. So he used it.

    I tried to shake it off, to acknowledge that Satan was trying to work against me. I recognized it for what it was, a subtle attack from my greatest enemy. I called it what it was, a lie, and I tried to go on with my life.

    But as is often the case with Satan, he was relentless. He didn’t give up.

    Yesterday, I woke up feeling weary. You know how that sometimes happens? You just wake up with a feeling of heaviness, and you don’t necessarily know why?

    My husband was out of town, so loneliness was creeping in, I hadn’t slept well the night before, and because of a nasty case of poison ivy, I’d been taking lots of medicine. That combination opened up an area of vulnerability, and my enemy pounced. Like a roaring lion, he sought someone to devour.

    And for two hours, I was it.

    I work from home, so after spinning my wheels writing words that went nowhere and struggling to keep my eyes open, I decided to take a break. I lay my head back and tried to sleep for a few minutes, thinking physical rest would help my weary spirit. I hoped a short nap would rejuvenate me.

    Instead, I entered a spiritual battle. And I don’t say that lightly.

    In the quiet of my house and the battlefield of my mind, I encountered one of the toughest fights against my enemy I’ve had in recent days. Over and over, he brought to mind my failures. My weaknesses. My shortcomings and insecurities. He mocked me with the success of others and whispered that I would always fail. He reminded me of my unfulfilled dreams, and he showed me others who are living them instead. He let me know that I am unwanted and ignored, undeserving and untalented. He showed me how I am always the last choice, forever the one forgotten. He brought back conversations that hurt, rejections that ruined. Past hurts and present fears. Real hopes and imagined slights. Lies and broken promises and the pain of being overlooked.

    For two hours, I endured what I can only describe as an onslaught. I wept and raged, prayed and pleaded. I felt as if I were being pulled into a black hole.

    And I think this very type of experience is what Christians rarely want to discuss. We want to put on our religious facades and pretend we’re always on the mountaintop. We want to share our beautiful blessings, and we want to smile for the viewing public. We somehow think following Christ should exempt us from these struggles, and we convince ourselves to keep them very quiet. We don’t want to admit that our lives are just hard sometimes, and we want everyone to think we’re doing just fine.

    But sometimes we’re not. Sometimes we’re walking through the valley of the shadow of death. Sometimes we are tempted in the wilderness. Sometimes we feel forsaken and forgotten, and sometimes we’re in the midst of very real spiritual battles.

    Satan attacks, and he attacks all of us. And when we fail to talk about it, he has the advantage. We give him the upper hand when we act as if he’s not real.

    He is real.

    And we are his target.

    Yesterday was a really hard day for me. The spiritual battle left me feeling drained and exhausted. It made me realize anew how powerless I am without the Holy Spirit working on my behalf. It made me internalize even more the truth that “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Eph. 6:12).

    The onslaught didn’t last forever. But for the hours it did, it was brutal. As I cried, I claimed the blood of Christ over my mind, and as I prayed, I asked him to capture my thoughts and bring them into the obedience of his truth. My deliverance didn’t come immediately. But it did come. Slowly, the attack lessened, and eventually, the attack began to wane.

    Satan has ultimately been defeated by our Savior. But for now, he remains the ruler of this world. For eternity, Satan has been cast from the presence of God. But for now, he fights against God’s people. Satan cannot have those who are saved. But for now, he will continue to try.

    He tried really hard yesterday to have control of my mind. He tried really hard to keep me in a place of hopelessness and defeat. He tried really hard to win a victory in my life.

    But, as always, he was ultimately defeated. As always, the Word of God won out. And as always, God showed up for his child.

    Praise his name.

     

     

     

  • To the Woman Trying to Measure Her Worth

     

    The pressure is overwhelming, isn’t it? The pressure to perform, to fit in, to measure up. The pressure to do it all, be it all, experience it all. The pressure to be the first, the best, to do the most.

    The pressure to be enough.

    I know how you feel, because I am one of you. I am a woman whose worth is too often tied up in the external. I am a woman trying to measure my worth, and this is the conclusion I’ve reached:

    We’re using the wrong measurement to determine our success.

    We look far and wide, high and low, and into places with no validity to validate ourselves. We ask the world what it thinks and blindly accept what it offers. We listen to our culture instead of our Creator.

    Our culture loudly proclaims the measure of the moment, and when it changes, we’re left reeling and reinventing ourselves. We’re left wondering if the next measure will find us lacking or if we’ll finally see our worth. We keep measuring ourselves with an ever-changing ideal, and then we wonder why we can’t find peace in who we are.

    We’re using the wrong standards.

     

    Click here to continue reading this post over at Kindred Mom. 

    “Kindred Mom is a gracious online community dedicated to helping moms flourish in motherhood. We believe motherhood is a sacred and beautiful journey of discovery and we are committed to holding space for moms who are looking for connection, guidance, encouragement, and truth about the incredible role of a mother.” -from KindredMom.com/about

    While you’re there, be sure to check out their brand new podcast and giveaway! Click here for that information.

     

  • Believing God Only Has Our Best in Mind

     

    Do you live with the mindset of abundance or deprivation?

    Do you rest in the fact that you have all you need, or do you wonder if there’s something more that should be coming your way?

    These are questions I’ve been pondering a lot lately, and I’ve learned there are no simple answers.

    My conscious mind knows that every need I have is met, and I’m striving to be like Paul, who “learned the secret of being content in any and every situation” (4:12). But the truth is that I find myself drifting into discontentment when I live without intention. The truth is that I often overlook my met needs while desiring to have others’ abundance. The truth is that my mindset is often one of deprivation. And it’s not necessarily about stuff – it’s about relationships, opportunities, and even God’s love.

    Here’s the tension: I am not deprived. But I let Satan tell me that I am.

    I do not go without. But I focus on what others seem to have.

    God has richly blessed me. But I still believe He’s closed his hand.

    This is the way of the earth-bound believer, is it not? From the first people created came the question of what God was keeping from them. From the very first woman came a judgment that the tree from which she could eat was insufficient and that God was keeping the fruit of the best tree away from her lips. The assumption she made, and the one I make too, is that God is keeping something from us. That there’s something better to which He is saying, “No.”

    Read – and believe – these words from Mark Batterson: “God is not holding out on you.”

    He’s not, friend. He won’t.

    While it is true that God does withhold some things from your life, it’s never because He’s holding out. It’s always because He’s helping. Whatever He prevents from coming your way; whoever He removes from your life… It’s always for your protection. Whenever He blocks your path or however you hear him say no… It’s always for your greater good.

    His “no” is always from his great love, and his “no” is always for a much greater “yes.”

    My journey with Christ has taught me I can’t trust what I feel. My feelings lie. And when they lie, I have to remember God’s word. His truth says, “For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly” (Psalm 84:11). No good thing. He only withholds what is not good.

    That’s a hard truth – to trust that we feel is missing is missing for a reason. That what we feel we’re lacking is lacking because it would harm us. That what we wish we had is the very last thing that we need.

    Ours is a benevolent Father. Not a stingy one, and certainly not a cold or indifferent one. But a God who sees what we cannot and plans for the future we don’t know is coming. A God who accounts for the details we don’t understand, and a God who desires our sanctification more than our temporary satisfaction.

    We don’t know it all, do we? When we really stop to think about where we’re headed and what it is we need, we’re at a loss. We are powerless to plan for the life God is creating. We’re clueless when it comes to what we really need in our lives.

    So it’s always to our benefit to stop and remember who we are. We are created beings with a limited understanding. We are subordinates to an Almighty God. We are followers of a Lord who knows the future. We are not God, and when we begin assuming we know what He should allow, we follow Lucifer’s lead and desire the standing only God can have. Only He is good, and only He knows what his children need.

    Father, forgive us for attempting to be you. Forgive us for ever questioning your love and provision, and forgive us for ascribing to ourselves any kind of knowledge of the steps you should take. We are wrong – so wrong – when we think of you with anything other than adoration and praise. We choose today to stand on the truth of your word and to ignore the sinful thoughts that are creeping in. We choose to believe today that you are the everlasting God who does not faint or grow weary, whose understanding is unsearchable (Isaiah 40:28). We remember today that your ways and thoughts are not ours, that they are higher than our own (Isaiah 55:8-9). We submit today to your plans for us, because we know they are to prosper and not to harm (Jeremiah 29:11). We give ourselves fully to what you bring and what you withhold, knowing that your every thought toward us is of love and great mercy. We praise you for who you are, and we remember who we are not.

    Amen.

     

    If you’re new here, welcome! I write about enjoying the journey of your everyday life, even if it isn’t what you planned. I have a FREE gift for you, a printable called “A Soul That Thirsts for the Lord.” Just click here to get your copy!

     

  • Book Suggestions for My Reader Friends!

     

    It’s time to start thinking about what to read on summer vacation! Woo hoo!

    Is there anything better than reading by the ocean? I think not.

    So here are four of my suggestions for summer reading 2017:

    • Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea by Barbara Demick. With everything in the news lately about North Korea and leader Kim Jong-Un, I’ve been curious about this country and its people. I admit my ignorance was strong! Although this book was published in 2009, it is still a great resource for understanding North Korea. The author interviewed and got to know people who had defected from North Korea into neighboring China or South Korea, and they gave detailed and unbelievable accounts of what life is really like for North Korean citizens. From tales of surveillance and starvation to gender expectations, this book is an eye-opener for what it’s like to live in a Communist nation. I could not put it down! It’s not dry or boring like a textbook. Rather, it is facts presented through stories, which is always the best way to learn. (I really want my son to read it, but there are some places with profanity, so I might wait a couple of years. I think it would be great reading for teenagers, to help them understand the huge role government plays in our lives.)
    • At Home in the World: Reflections on Belonging While Wandering the Globe by Tsh Oxenreider. I’ll admit I was hesitant about reading this one. It’s the true account of Tsh and her husband traveling across the planet – literally – with their three children. They visited Australia, China, New Zealand, Europe… Countries all over the world. I was hesitant to read it because I wasn’t sure I could connect. It’s only in recent years I’ve begun to love to travel myself, and I’ve certainly not done it with a backpack and three children. But her amazing storytelling and ability to zing you with one-liners drew me in immediately. I loved how she constantly ponders the tension between loving to travel and loving to be at home – while simultaneously exploring what home really is. Here’s a hint at her style: “Our individual bodies take up minute measurements of space, which is a good thing because there are more than seven billion of us. But it’s easy to feel bigger than I am, important within my own thoughts and somehow significant in the grand scheme of things. My life matters, of course, and so do the lives of my other four family members. So, too, do the seven billion other lives currently inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide twenty thousand times a day. We all matter. And yet we are so much more microscopic than our daily tasks lead us to believe. Tiny. What a tiny place I occupy in the world.“
    • The Road Back to You: An Enneagram Journey to Self-Discovery by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile. OK – I kept hearing about this book from people in my writing group. I avoided it for a long time because it sounded weird to me. Enneagram? What’s that? It sounded like it might be psycho, new-age mumbo jumbo, and I wanted no part of that. Turns out I couldn’t have been more wrong. This book has opened my eyes to why I am the way I am, at least according to the personality I’ve always had. The basic premise is that everyone falls into one of the nine personality types. People with each type share common characteristics, often including the way they acted as children and the way they react when stressed. For example, I learned I’m a Type Five: The Investigator. Y’all, it’s so doggone right on. Characteristics of my personality type? “Experience the world as intrusive, overwhelming and draining… Typically introverted and analytical… Fearful they don’t have sufficient inner resources to function in the world, they detach and withdraw into the mind… Look to knowledge to provide them with what most people find through relationships, such as love, comfort and support.” The great thing about this book is that it gives the positives and negatives of the personality types, and at the end of each chapter, it has a section called “Spiritual Transformation.” In other words, what we need to do as Christians to thrive in our God-given personalities. It’s a great resource if you want to understand yourself and others better. If you’re in leadership of any kind, I highly suggest reading it and learning about the people on your team.
    • Never Unfriended: The Secret to Finding and Keeping Lasting Friendships by Lisa-Jo Baker. This book affected more than I’d like to admit. Because of my personality type (see above), it is not easy for me to develop close friendships. I tend to withdraw and assume rejection, which is super healthy. Or not. Regardless, the topic of friendship and the way Lisa-Jo presents it made me cry multiple times. She shares her own struggles and gives Biblical and practical advice. In the beginning of the book, she references the story in Luke where someone asked Jesus who the neighbor is that we’re to love. She writes, “But when the scholar pressed Jesus to define who exactly this neighbor is that we’re commanded to love, Jesus didn’t give an inch. He gave a story. And it defines neighbor not as a particular who, but instead as a what, as in what you should do. The parable of the good Samaritan isn’t about identifying your neighbor; it’s about being a neighbor. In essence, it’s about being the kind of friend you wish you had.” She carries this perspective throughout the book and challenges the reader to check herself – to really see if she’s being a friend instead of wishing for one. I underlined so many lines in this book, it’s full of pencil lead. But it’s one I’ll definitely go back to again and again. So, so good.

     

    So there are four books I think you should – what should I read next? I love nonfiction and historical fiction, memoir and biography… Pretty much anything! Recommend your favorites by commenting below!

  • Why I Thanked God Yesterday for My Divorce

     

    Tears filled my eyes yesterday as I raised my arms in worship and declared the truths of the hymn, “It Is Well with My Soul.” Because it is. It finally is.

    Six years ago, it wasn’t, and I wasn’t sure it ever would be again. Six years ago at this exact time, my marriage had fallen apart. My husband was gone, and I was begging God to bring him back.

    Six years ago today, my soul was struggling to believe that the God who is love still loved me, and my soul was trying to make sense of a God whose plans to prosper and not harm me included a devastating separation and divorce.

    My faith was battling my sight, and my emotions were clouding my belief.

    Every day I had to remind myself that God had not forsaken me, and every day I had to tell myself to praise him despite how I felt. Some days I succeeded, and some days I failed. When you’re in the midst of a storm, your faith becomes more than a mere profession of words. It becomes a lifeline to keep you alive. When sorrows like sea billows roll, it’s easy to drown. Some days I felt like I would.

    The strange thing about those days, though, is that while they were the worst of my life, they were also unbelievably sweet. They were agonizing, yes, but they also ushered me directly into the arms of my Father. I had never known God to be so near, and I had never been as convinced that He would take care of me. I doubted and I questioned, but I trusted and I believed. Those days were a paradox I’m not sure I can explain.

    Six years later, it really is well with my soul. Not because God brought my husband back. He didn’t. Not because He’s taken all my pain. He hasn’t. But because I know whom I have believed.

    I thanked God yesterday for my divorce because it is what He used to make my faith real. My divorce is what proved to me the goodness of my God, and my devastation is what taught me He is trustworthy in it all.

    It’s easy to thank God when all is well, and it’s no sacrifice to praise when life is simple. But I’ve learned that untested faith is often no faith at all. As we sang “It Is Well” in church yesterday, I wondered how many of us truly believed the words we sang. I wondered if our words were empty recitations or bold declarations.

    I don’t wish divorce on you, and I pray you are protected from life’s worst tragedy. But I have learned to be thankful for mine because I have seen how God used even it. He wastes nothing.

    Today, I can sing – and really mean – “through the storm I am held.” Because I was.

    I love the lines, “Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well, It is well with my soul.” Thou hast taught. Wellness in our souls is not a natural state; it is learned through our lot. It is taught through our troubles.

    So today, like yesterday, I will give thanks for what God has done. I will praise him for how He proved himself true, and I will lift my arms and declare, “It is well, it is well with my soul.”

     

  • Why We Can’t Keep Pretending We’re Fine

     

    Oh, how I wish you would think I have it all together.

    But I don’t, and I probably can’t even fool you into thinking I do. That doesn’t stop me from trying, though. It doesn’t stop me from smiling a big smile when I really feel like crying and talking like everything’s just dandy. It doesn’t stop me from hiding my insecurities and pretending I know what I’m doing.

    I don’t know what I’m doing, y’all. I’m a mess and a disaster and an actress who tries to pretend I’m not. 

    I don’t have it all together.

    You don’t have it together either, do you? You feel like a mess and a disaster, too, but you also pretend that you’re not.

    It’s a maddening game we play, and it’s tearing all of us apart.

    We put on elaborate masks and fake faces for the world, and we hide who we really are. We deny the weight of the worries we carry, and we refuse to admit our deepest struggles. We want everyone to think we have it all together, and we don’t even know what “it” is.

    Here’s what I’ve come to understand: when we set out to pretend we’re OK, we unintentionally hurt those who are not. We send a silent but serious message that struggles are not to be shared, and we perpetuate the lie that perfection can be attained.

    Our pretend life becomes someone else’s goal, and their inability to achieve it only devastates them more.

    We cover and conceal our own messiness, and as a result, others believe it doesn’t exist. They think we have it all together, so they think they should, too.

    Our dishonesty about our struggles leads others to make wrong assumptions about themselves – that they are faulty, broken, and inept.

    What a lie, and what a disastrous testimony from us.

    We cause others to stumble because of our dishonesty. We fool them into thinking they can master this thing called life, and we bring shame into their lives when they can’t.

    But none of us can. 

    We certainly don’t need to shout the details of our struggles from the rooftop, and we don’t need to let everyone in to our personal lives. Some hardships should not be broadcast, and some people shouldn’t be trusted with our pain.

    But pretending all is well is wrong. Faking fine is a flat-out lie.

    It’s such a relief to share the truth of your heart with someone you can trust. It’s freeing to admit all is not well. But it’s not just relief we experience when we share our true selves. It’s advice. Companionship. Solidarity. Intercession. The knowledge that we are not alone.

    When I keep my struggles to myself, I can also keep them from myself. I can live in denial day after day, fooling myself into thinking I’m good. I can convince myself (until I fall apart) that I’m doing just fine and that I certainly don’t need any help. I can also begin to believe I’m alone in how I feel – and isolation is always the beginning of an implosion.

    I don’t want to glorify my struggles, but I don’t want to gloss over them, either. I want to grapple with them in the groups God has placed me in. I want to be real in the relationships that matter in my life. I want to get past the pretending and allow myself to face what I feel.

    Fine is a lie. Fake is a fraud.

    Let’s remind ourselves of whom we can trust and resolve to be real with them. Let’s be people who are real and who refuse to pretend anymore. Let’s be honest with ourselves and those we love – because there’s more at stake than how we appear.

     

     

    I have a free gift for you – a printable called “A Soul That Thirsts for the Lord.” Click here and I’ll send it to you!