Word Therapy

No Thank You to Normal

Well, that was fun. Exhausting, but fun.

 

We hadn’t really left our house much since Covid started, and then, starting July 17th, and ending this past Sunday, we traveled for 5 weekends in a row.

We did long weekends on our boat 3 times, twice at Lake Roosevelt, once at Lincoln Rock, and for two of those trips, Kevin commuted home every night to change water, sleep at home, and come join us again in the morning.

(mis)adventures on the way back from our last boat trip.

Then Kevin and I finally got a weekend away to ourselves after needing one for MONTHS. Back in February, I had been feeling like our relationship was okay but we were like ships passing in the night because he was spending tons of time in Seattle at the VA with his dad (for which I am SO THANKFUL. So thankful he got that time with him before he passed in March).

Then Covid happened, and although our family was home together all the time, it’s sometimes hard to connect as a couple when you have a pre-teen who now stays up as late as you do, and a busy 4th grader who has a million ideas for adventures and projects every hour on the hour, and then throw in an extroverted, confident 5 year old girl who loves to sing and be the star of the family drama, and you just don’t have much down time to have adult conversation, AMIRITE???

 

Anyway, Kevin and I ended up going to Sandpoint Idaho for 2 nights and that place is awesome! Highly recommend for a getaway destination. 

And finally, our travels this last weekend took us back to my hometown in Southwest Washington to celebrate the life of my Grandpa Bob. So hard but so good. He was such an awesome Grandpa, and I’m thankful I grew up close to him and have so many great memories with him.

So, here we are.

 

Back at home without a flurry of unpacking and repacking filling our weekdays this week. 

 

And I’m back to sitting outside for long mornings looking at the birds, talking to God, and being captivated by the ways He just keeps showing up and opening my eyes to things that have been hidden in plain sight all along.

 

What I’m talking about is the way He sneaks up on me and speaks words to my heart that make me cry out of nowhere. Like when I found my old journal from high school yesterday when I was cleaning out the garage, and suddenly I had more grace than I’ve ever had for that young, confused girl that I was. In a moment he transformed my understanding of Who HE  was in that time of my life. You see, at that time of my life I was living in ways that were completely out of alignment with what I knew to be His desires for me, and I felt buried under a cloud of shame and condemnation. But yesterday it’s like He allowed me to catch a glimpse of the Kindness, and Compassion, and Patience He had for me all along. He wasn’t sitting distantly, watching me with a furrowed brow. He was right beside me all along, knowing that He wasn’t going to give up on me, or withhold His love until I fixed myself. Although, that was definitely my theology as a high schooler, and the result was that I kept God at arms length because he didn’t feel safe and my guilt crushed me.

 

There have been many of these moments, where God breaks into the everyday and I suddenly have a new understanding of the reality of who He is. 

 

The thing is though, so many of these moments have been happening because, for the first time in a really long time, my schedule isn’t packed.

 

The great gift of Covid. 

 

SPACE.

 

TIME.

 

To breathe. 

 

To reassess what is important and worth fighting for.

 

And let me tell you, I’m trying with all my might to figure out how NOT to go back to the way things were before. I don’t want to go back to normal because normal was killing me, and as I’ve seen in my kids, it wasn’t working so great for them either.

 

A caveat though:
I have ideal circumstances so I actually get to have the freedom to make some of these decisions because I have a stable home life, economic situation, etc….for now. Circumstances could change and the rug could be pulled out at any moment, but for now, I recognize that I have a tremendous amount of latitude and privilege and favor that have allowed me to have a life where I get to choose what’s best for me and my family.

 

In this time of cancelled plans, lots of time at home, the removal of so many things that were holding in place a fragile system of what I thought would help me thrive, I’ve stumbled hard several times. There were some serious mental health challenges a few times that I felt like were going to swallow me whole.

 

But as I’ve been in these different spaces, I’ve finally experienced the removal of the ability to run.

To escape.

 

What has become abundantly clear is that my life of “thriving” was largely built upon a carefully crafted system that allowed me to escape from the difficulties of life.

• Me time.
• Tons of “needs” for Self-Care
• Gym time
• My kids being gone at school, sports, etc. so I really didn’t see them that much.

 

None of these are bad things, and some of them will be reinstated as our schedules allow.

HOWEVER.

I was using them to run from the things I didn’t want to deal with. Like why I get so angry and yell at my kids when they don’t do what I want and stay on MY schedule.

And how was I ever going to do anything significant with my life if I couldn’t get all these people that live here to be more self-sufficient and give me my space so I can figure out what’s next for me after all of you people are in school??

 

Ugh. That makes me sad to read. But that’s literally what was driving me.

 

And I feel like I’ve been given a second chance. And that second chance has come with tears and “crazy-mom” moments where my kids have seen me at my absolute worst.

 

But God sometimes allows us to go through those things because he is pulling some crap out and refining our character and building perseverance and to do that He has to remove every escape hatch that used to give us just enough oxygen to allow us to continue down our self-focused, destructive path.

 

And in the midst of it, I’ve been learning that God is way more Kind and Creative than I ever knew.

 

What does it mean when covid makes it so I can’t do all my regular things or even go to church every week?

 

• It means that the small group I’ve been meeting with all summer to discuss issues of injustice and how we can be better neighbors becomes a place of Revival. A place where the Spirit of God shows up and knits hearts together and gives us vision for the Kingdom He has called us into, and we have church in the yard.
• It means that being prayed for over Marco Polo leaves me crying and so thankful for the gifts of friendship and kindred spirits.
• It means that re-discovering God in nature reminds me that Jesus was a bird watcher too! (No, but seriously, birds are in the Bible a lot!)
• It means that even if I am exhausted from cooking and housework and full time parenting and need to skip my morning time of solitude and prayer and scripture to SLEEP IN (somebody say hallelujah for that time when after ELEVEN YEARS of having early risers, you get late-sleeping kids!!), God somehow gives me an abundance of positivity, and a sharp mind for the day.
• It means that I have more time to actually do the things Jesus told us to do, and actually love my neighbor because I’m not rushing from one thing to the next.

 

So, I don’t know who needs to hear this today, but know this:

 

God is Creative and He is Kind. He can meet you wherever you are and transform you no matter what the circumstances are. He is not looking at you with MadFace and waiting for you to get your act together. That’s not who he is. And he proved it.

 

Romans 5:8

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this While we were still sinners Christ died for us

Don't Worry About Your Life: Lessons from Hummingbirds

I’ve been in the process of becoming a crazy bird-nerd during this season of COVID-19 and spending more time at home than I have since having tiny babies. I’ve had more time than ever to look out my kitchen window as I prepare meal after meal and wash infinity stacks of plates and cups (what is with all the cups??)

 

This morning I had to get up earlier than my body typically allows unless there is a mainline drip of caffeine delivered straight to my lagging nervous system. Kevin was up for work at 5 am and since I’m such a nice wife, I got up and made him coffee and lunch. (I’m actually not that sweet, it’s just that bringing your coffee and lunch from home saves soooooo much money over the course of a year, that it motivates me to get out of bed and slam a cup from the Keurig while I make a sandwich with foggy sleep eyes).

 

As I was slicing sourdough and trying to think of what I could add besides the standard sandwich and protein bar (NOT a bento box mom here), I was staring out the window at my hummingbird feeder and listening to my new favorite thing: The Dwell App. (It’s an audio bible app with customizable background music and a variety of beautiful voices to choose from.) Anyway, as I stared out the window at my nearly drained bird feeder, sipping the last of my coffee, I had my earbuds in and heard a verse that has been instrumental for me lately:

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?”

 

As this verse was hitting my slowly awakening consciousness, I happened to notice that all five little flower seats on our hummingbird feeder were occupied with tiny birds sipping morning sustenance. They drink it almost as eagerly as I drink my coffee. (In case you didn’t know, I tried to quit coffee last week. BAD IDEA. DO NOT RECOMMEND). It was only the second time I’ve seen all five spots occupied and it was not lost on me that I was seeing this at the very moment that I was being reminded of Jesus’s words about not worrying about the provision of this life because our Father even makes sure the birds get fed. 

 

It brought me back to yesterday afternoon. I was hunched over the laptop looking at numbers and seeing, once again, that the incoming money from last year’s crop is a far cry from being able to pay for what is necessary to keep up with this year’s operating expenses. There have been several times this year that I’ve been confronted with those numbers and I’ve gone straight to stress. Strategizing and worrying and wondering how in the world we are going to get the numbers into the black for this year. 

 

But yesterday was different. It was literally like I heard an audible voice say: “Don’t worry about your life”. I’ve heard that same voice several times over the past week, and the authority of it really packs a punch. So much so, that it’s stopped the anxiety train in my brain from taking me completely over and running me off the tracks. I hear it and I’m like “Oh yeah! Jesus, you are in charge and you love me, and I know that you are providing a way, even if I can’t see it yet, and I trust you!”

 

This is such a gift because I’ve not always had this response. I have also been the person that’s spent days, months, years in full on cycles of anxiety and depression living a life of worry. So, to feel the weight of the worry lift like that is no small thing.

 

Now, I still have numbers in the red and there’s still a lot of work to be done, and probably some difficult decisions to be made, but it doesn’t feel so crushing. I will keep working and doing what I can, but with the realization that I can’t pull money out of thin air to pay spray bills and payroll. I can’t. God can. Maybe He will. But either way, I am basking in this sense of peace that whatever comes, He is in charge and He loves me and my family.

 

I’m going to keep boiling up those jars of sugar water (4 cups water 1 cup sugar) and filling that feeder, taking solace in the fact that I get to play a small part in feeding the birds. I’ll be reminded that as they buzz around, carefree and beautifully adorned with flashes of metallic green and magenta, I’ve been created to live the same way. Carefree and reflecting the beauty of my Creator.

I’m praying for you that as you read this, you as well will hear the voice of God today saying “Don’t worry about your life”, and that you will trust in his love and care for you, because he truly does care for you. It might not all make sense right now, the forecast may look grim, but he is at work even when we can’t see exactly what He’s doing that. I’m praying that peace over you and your life today. 

2 Ways to Care for Your Soul in a Time of Isolation

With nearly the entire planet on some form of lockdown, shelter-in-place, social distancing, isolation, or quarantine, life as we know it, has ground to a halt.

For many people and many reasons, this presents incredible challenges. There are literally life and death scenarios being thrown to the forefronts of many peoples’ lives right now, and the gravity of that must be appreciated by everyone whether or not this current disaster affects you in a magnitude of ways, or in ways that are merely more subtle.

 

Already, I have a sense of “privilege guilt” going on. This is not unusual for me, but it’s particularly intense right now. I have so many stabilizers in place, simply by the grace of God, that many people do not. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and rather than just feeling bad about how good I have it, I’ve been pondering what it looks like to harness these circumstances in a way that is not wasteful.

 

Over the past several years I’ve been on a journey of soul reformation. This has taken many forms by way of books, therapy, prayer/inner healing ministry, writing, etc. One clear theme throughout all of this has emerged: In order to understand why we do and say the things we do and say, we must understand our own hearts. I think all of us have relationships that could be improved and often the best place to start is with ourselves. When we improve our relationships, we improve our world. Trying harder and doing better to be more kind, more patient, more forgiving, more gracious, does not work. It may work for a short time but eventually it will crack.

 

What I’m getting at is this: We have a rare opportunity to have all of the layers peeled back and many of the distractions of life momentarily paused; and what will we find when we peer behind the curtain of our own soul?

Now, it is entirely possible to fritter away this opportunity with endless consumption of social media, news, netflix, and the distraction du jour (guilty, as charged!)

 

OR we can choose to sit with the pain. Sit with the fear, the grief, the angst, the uncertainty and begin to unravel the threads that will lead us back to our core feelings. 

 

For example (and yes, this is a trivial matter, but it illustrates what I'm talking about): 

 

This afternoon I walked through the house and noticed that it was rather messy and I also noticed that I wasn’t that bothered by it (that is NOT my normal response). So, I took a moment to think about why my reaction was different than normal. As it turns out, I wasn’t bothered because I know that tomorrow presents the same opportunity as today: An empty schedule with plenty of time to pick things up and vacuum. Also, I was aware that I have no impending visitors, so there was not the hidden-back-of-the-mind stress of needing to “get ready” for someone to come over, whereupon I will feel self-conscious about my untidy house with peeling wallpaper and too much pet hair. (Sidenote: I love people, so I do often like to invite people over, but I remain painfully self-conscious about my living space. I’m working on it).

 

Now that I have these two motivations for stress uncovered, I have a clearer picture of what trips me up in the day to day around this particular issue when we are living “normally” (as opposed to apocalyptically. Just kidding, sort of).

 

I frequently tend to over schedule myself and so then feel short on time, which leads to feeling overwhelmed about everything that has to be done at home, and then feel even more frantic when I realize that so-and-so is coming over on Thursday and I’ve got a LOT to get done by then. 

This is helpful for when we re-enter normalcy, if I manage to remember these things and factor them in when I start to re-engage with a more normative schedule and set of expectations.

Then again, what is normal? Maybe we will experience a permanent shift as a society, where we stop expecting so much of ourselves and each other and quit scheduling the heck out of ourselves and our families. Maybe not. But we all get to decide those things for ourselves, which is awesome!

 

So, in this time I am encouraging you to do these 2 things with me:

 

• Pay attention to makes you feel stress or sadness or angst

 

• Pay attention to what makes you feel happy or peaceful or relieved

 

As we do this, we may discover hidden parts of ourselves that have previously been obscured by a busy schedule and a loud world.

 

The busy schedule part has been mostly taken care of for us, but we can still allow the world to be really loud right now if we aren’t careful. 

 

Embrace this gift of time. Get down into the weeds of how God created you, and I pray that you would take what you find, and allow yourself the space to be the most fully alive you, and by doing so that you would emerge from this time of rest, ready to bless the world more spectacularly than you ever have before.

In the Footsteps of a Friend

 

Yesterday I said goodbye to a dear friend. I didn’t realize how much I treasured our friendship until these last few months when the departure date loomed imminent on the calendar. Every time I thought about it, that old song “Don’t know what you got, til it’s gone” would run through my mind. I am for sure a child of the 80s.

My friend Kaye is leaving this place to step into the new place that God has called her to. She is moving to Spring Arbor Michigan to be the Lead Pastor at a church there. I’m simultaneously excited for her, and yet filled with grief that the person who has walked with me through so much over the past 7 years will no longer be available for a quick coffee date, a long lunch, a face to face delivery of wisdom for a marriage crisis or a parenting meltdown, or an in-the-flesh exemplar of the most stunning shoe collection I have ever laid eyes upon.

 

When I think of how we became friends, I’m increasingly blown away that she even made time for me. I basically targeted her with an email that went something like this: “I have no idea how to raise my kids and you seem really smart, so will you help me?” At the time she was the interim family ministries director at our church and she had recently spoken at MOPS and seemed to have some high level wisdom that I was sorely lacking. 

 

I showed up to our first “friend date” with not the first clue that my first presentation in the days of “Kristi at 29” was rather off-putting. I’m not sure if I would have been friends with me. We met at the Anjou bakery just outside of Cashmere (if you haven’t been there, you have to try it. Get the ham and butter sandwich) I came with a literal list of questions, and most of them were about theology & parenting. I guess I was sort of brand-new in my faith and had massive theological questions and Kaye seemed like the one to ask. At the time, I was of the persuasion that women were not to be pastors, according to the bible. Since I did not possess an abundance of tact, and primarily saw things through rigid dichotomies of black and white, I went on to basically ask her how & why she was pursuing ministry, since she was a woman. The question from my end was innocent at the time, but now that I’ve lived a few more years, I can see how incredibly offensive that must have sounded. And yet, she agreed to meet with me again.

 

Over the years we hiked miles together, drank many cups of coffee, prayed together at the pinnacle of some of the most stunning places you can find in this valley, and with the graces of time and a patient friend, my rough edges were somewhat sanded off (notice I said *somewhat*)

(My first & only paddle boarding experience to date. She let me have the board that's promised to be un-flippable. It was a legit, white, inflatable barge that made me feel incredibly proficient as I nervously traversed the bird sanctuary in the Columbia)

Of all of the friends I’ve have through the years, Kaye has definitely challenged me the most. She is that person who asks questions that poke at your worldview and undermine your carefully curated presuppositions. She is the one who hears the grand plan and can see the potential landmines or areas that need further exploration. She has a knack for sending me on the hunt for more information after I feel like I’ve finally landed the plane on a particular issue.

Sometimes this has frustrated me because there’s a big part of me that wants someone to cheerlead me regardless of the amount of tomfoolery I’m engaging with, but the more refined part of me understands that feedback from a friend, given in a spirit of love and leadership, is seriously one of the best, most underrated gifts in life.

Because of Kaye’s leadership, I have learned to live in a way that invites curiosity; she has exemplified the confident faith that knows that all truth is God’s truth, so we don’t have to be afraid to ask questions and re-examine long held tenets that are more tradition than sound doctrine—like my formerly held view that women can’t be pastors. She was one of a few people who helped me to come to a better, more biblical understanding whereupon both men AND women are called and gifted by God for doing the work of ministry. She helped me climb out of the narrow, partisan boxes I was living in with regard to a multitude of different social and political issues, and to see that as a follower of Jesus, there are areas of nuance that cannot be tidily shoved into the corners of Right or Left.  She helped me to rethink what it means to follow Jesus and to let him really inform EVERY area of life. She helped me to develop an attitude of grace that doesn’t write people off when they become too _________. (frustrating, annoying, addicted, irritating, stupid, inept, you get the picture)

 

In a word, she discipled me.

She pastored me. She was a friend to me. I know that this friendship isn’t ending, it’s transforming. We will lean heavily on technology to be the path where our witty banter and theological musings can traverse back and forth from Washington to Michigan.

 

She has left her mark on me, our church, and this valley, and I’m incredibly grateful to get to walk in her wake. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that on our last lunch together, we showed up wearing the same shoes. 

I’ve always loved her shoe collection, and I hope to walk worthy, just like she’s been showing me how to do for all these years. I love you, Kaye!

 ^"Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ."- 1 Corinthians 11:1

 

 

*If you would like further resources on why I believe that its part of God's redemptive, good plan to have both men and women leading and shepherding His church, see below:

Defusing the 1 Timothy 2:12 Bomb

Ordaining Women by B.T. Roberts

How I Changed My Mind About Women in Leadership-multiple authors

The Blue Parakeet by Scot McNight

 

HGTV & Eternity

 

 

“When you think of our time here in light of eternity, spending your life trying to perpetually upgrade your home, is like deciding to install granite countertops during your weekend stay at the Holiday Inn.” -Paraphrase Joby Martin, Church of Eleven22

 

I’ll never forget the first time I heard that sermon illustration. It made so much sense and felt like somebody had just lifted a lead blanket from my shoulders.  So much of life for the modern American middle-classer is directed toward self-improvement, status-improvement, and home-improvement of all kinds. NONE of those are bad aspirations, but if they are to be pursued, they definitely must be pursued in light of context, and rightly-ordered priorities.

 

Before I became a Christian and realized that this life a vapor (something I still struggle to remember!), I had a lengthy and detailed map for my road to the pinnacle of American success. I would be perpetually upwardly mobile, never settling for less than I could achieve should I increase my level of diligence. Success was well-defined and measurable based on income level, number of vacations taken, career position, and of course for our HGTV beholden culture, it would have to include a house that was LEGIT.

 

I’m sure many of you have found yourselves in lives that don’t reflect what you had planned for yourself in high school, or am I alone in this? Through several turns of events and unforeseen forks in the road, I have now spent a decade as a stay at home mom, living the orchard life, and gazing at peeling wall paper in my kitchen while I tirelessly try to pitch and re-order enough stuff to make our family of 5 feel as un-suffocated as possible in our home. Once I found the freedom to get rid of all KINDS of stuff (including some of those precious preschool papers and junk toys and sentimental gifts), it became much easier to create a home that feels just right for our family.

 

At the risk of sounding terribly self-absorbed (I mean, it’s actually true but now I’m just telling all of you), I’ve spent an inordinate amount of my life over the last 10 years examining myself and our life and trying to figure out how to feel more content in all of it. The fight for contentment is a battle that I have to wage daily. I want to be the mom that enjoys the chaos because the kids are having fun, but I’m not wired that way.

Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

What makes me the most frustrated about my own unceasing internal dialogue, is that my life is GOOD and I have to constantly fight to embrace it. To so many people I am living the absolute dream. And when I take a second to really look at everything I have to be thankful for, I actually feel really silly considering all the things I still focus on and find lacking. I am frustrated that I seem to give into the temptation to believe that newer, bigger, better will somehow make me happier. It is SUCH a lie. I’m not even kidding, about 4 years ago I just had to shut off HGTV for good. I found that every time I watched it I felt “less-than” or discouraged because I know that no matter how hard I try or how creative I get, this place will never look like “that place”.

 

Does this confession make me sound like the most shallow person ever? Maybe so. But I’m risking sharing my ridiculousness in the hopes that it will set someone else free. I don’t want to live a life enslaved to making sure my paint colors are up to date, my spaces are fresh and modern, and my kids’ rooms resemble a pottery barn catalogue. Instead I want to remember that I am to: “live out your time as foreigners here in reverent fear. For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, but with the precious blood of Christ”. I can live this way, focused on the temporary nature of my life here and the great calling that I, along with every other believer have been given, when I remember this truth from the Apostle Peter: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!. In his great mercy he has given us new birth into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you.”

When I spend all my days trying to earn and grab an “inheritance” of earthly things that will ultimately break, decay, and lose their value, it makes me take my eye off the ball. I want to live in a way where I’m absolutely convinced that my inheritance is already secure and I don't’ have to work for it or manipulate the people and variables in my life in order to ‘get mine’ in the here and now.

 

And it is for such a time as this that it’s vital that we live this way. This world is full of so much confusion, chaos, and brokenness. If I have a light, I want it to shine. I don’t want it to stay trapped under heavy load of self-imposed pseudo-priorities that will matter zero percent in 100 years. I’ve got to be after the eternal things; hearts and souls. Everything else will disappear. Including my peeling wall paper and short countertops.

 

 

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.” Matthew 6:19

Photo by Milivoj Kuhar on Unsplash

Sublime Illumination

Do you ever have a day where your spiritual senses feel heightened? As if the stuff you’ve read or heard about God being all around us suddenly starts feeling really, tangibly REAL?

 

He just keeps blowing my mind. Just when I think I’ve experienced the apex of the love of Jesus and the transcendence of the peace that He gives, He takes it next level. I’ve heard multiple stories very recently of people hearing from God, walking in obedience, and someone else’s life being positively affected by it. Isn’t that what we are after? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to give my life away to religion. BORING. I do want to give my life away to the One who created me and rescued me, because when I give it, the ROI is unbelievable. I want to see a world that’s full of hope and peace. I want to see violence and bloodbaths and abuse and addiction and terrorism fade into a bleak memory. Today I’m seeing glimpses of the darkness being rolled back.

The Light has come, the light is growing and spreading, and the light is infectious. Have you encountered that Light yet? He is pursuing you right now.

 

I’m telling you, there is nothing quite like having a front row seat to seeing God at work healing a broken heart, restoring a lost life, mending relational fractures. Being a witness and a friend to that kind of transformation is the fuel for true joy. And that kind of true, lasting wholeness can only come from one place. His name is Jesus. 

 

Lessons from my Grandpa

It's been almost a month since we said goodbye to my Grandpa, and I'm thinking about him today. I shared a few things at his funeral that he taught me, and I noticed that two of these legacy points showed up in our lives today.  Namely, butter and saltines, and little girls going to work:

 

Here is the comprehensive list I shared at the funeral of things that my grandpa taught me:

• A well-oiled quartet is one of the most beautiful sounds that will ever reach the human ears.
• A little raw hamburger straight from the grinder never hurt anyone, as long as it comes from your own shop and a local cow.
• It’s more interesting to ask questions about the happenings of other peoples’ lives rather than talking about yourself all the time. Maya Angelou said: “People won’t always remember what you said, but they will remember how you made them feel.” I remember feeling valued  because my grandpa showed a genuine interest in who I was becoming as a young person.
• Kids can work too. Whether stamping packages of freshly wrapped meat, hauling cattle at the ripe age of 3 years old in the old truck with no seatbelts or carseats in sight, or just sitting on the counter marveling at the steady stream of “worms” coming out of the hamburger grinder, don’t be afraid to introduce your kids to your culture of work.
• Differing political views create opportunities for vigorous and robust dialogue that sharpens the mind and doesn’t need to be a force that drives a wedge in a relationship.  We can love fiercely those with whom we disagree.
• Cultural literacy is best handed down by someone who has “been there and done that”. My grandpa would often stump me with weird euphemisms that were brand-new to my young mind. He would insert some funny old saying into our conversation that left me scratching my head, my face wrinkled in confusion. He would silently laugh at me, his face twisted up in his unforgettable grin, just before he would explain what he had just said, giving me wisdom beyond my young years.
• Saltine crackers with butter is a Grade-A snack.
• Whistling is a totally viable option for a second language.
• Don’t neglect the lost art of communication and following through. Looking back over old emails between my Grandpa and I, I re-discovered that he was recruiting people to pray on my behalf when I had a cancer scare in my 20s, and then taking the time to pass along to me all of the prayers and well-wishes that his friends offered.
• Jag ska gå i skolan imorgon. My one Swedish sentence that I know, I learned from him. Don’t let google translator replace your ancestral heritage! Learn from those who have immigrated here.
• Picking up a slug with your bare-hands in order to win a scavenger hunt, is a sure way to amaze and win the heart of your granddaughter.
• Showing up in the lives of your grandkids matters. I have all of these memories of my grandpa because he made it a point to spend time with all of his grandkids.
• A legacy of faith is an unfathomable gift. The building blocks of my faith were laid here at this church, where I saw my Grandpa faithfully attending and serving every Sunday. This is the greatest gift of all.

 

Older generations, take time to invest in the next generation. Next generation, put your phones away for 10 minutes and glean from the overflow of wisdom and experience that the older generations have to offer. And above all, trust in Jesus more than you trust in anything on earth, as we look forward to the day that He returns and makes all things right.

Springtime People

The BEST season of the year is here in full swing. Maybe you know it by the blossoms, or if you're from Wenatchee, by the smell of Funnel cakes and the sight of chairs lined up for the grand parade only 5 days away.

This morning I watched my husband faithfully get in his pickup and drive away to work while the world was just waking up, changing from night to day.  As I walked over to the window to watch him drive off, I was greeted with the most amazing sky.  Pink and purple, scattered and painted across the sky, as the whole tapestry of clouds slowly crawled across the sky toward the east.

I always love a good sky, but this morning the way the pink and purple layered itself upon the emerald green hills making way to the valley floor of white pear blossoms, it really did something in my heart.

It reminded me that we were made to be Springtime people.  We were made to be on our faces in the presence of majestic beauty.  This morning, the vibrant colors, the gorgeously hued layers of sky and earth though extremely beautiful, are but a shadow of the beauty and majesty I will encounter every day of eternity.

It makes me think of a line from this song that I woke up with running through my head: Even when my time on earth is done, louder then I'll sing your praise

There's going to be a day when even the most beautiful things we behold now will fade from our memories as we encounter the beauty of Christ and the heaven he has waiting for us.  So when we feel that thing inside of us that is overwhelmed and awestruck at the beauty that we live in now, we just have to remember, this is just a glimpse.

I for one, cannot wait until we live with the magnified, eternal beauty that we glimpse here in springtime for day after day after year after year after century after eon of never-ending soul-swelling bliss.

Grandma, Freedom, & Pizza

So many things. It's impossible to go through a day, when you are really looking, and not find things to be grateful for.

Like this lady here. This is my mom, and once a week she takes my kids for the afternoon until bedtime.  She's done this since Milo was a baby.  Sometimes I think about my brushes with being seriously mentally and emotionally DONE in motherhood, and I realize that if I didn't have this weekly respite over the past near-decade, our whole family would have likely been worse for the wear.  A mom who doesn't completely lose herself in the role of motherhood, I believe, is a much healthier mom and just as importantly, a much healthier wife. So these hours over the past years, given to me by my mom have allowed me to have appointments, dates with my husband, time to write, time to sleep, time to connect with friends that I scarcely see, time to go to Costco without the whole posse, and time to just be alone in my head.

Thank you mom. You've literally saved our bacon in the parenting and marriage department around here. I hope I can be just like Grandma Heidi someday!

I'm thankful and abundantly confident that this is the LAST TIME Leah will put on these snow clothes to play in freshly fallen snow this winter season!

I'm thankful that "who the Son sets free is free indeed".  Last week we sang No Longer Slaves at church and I was undone.  I am AMAZED at the way God intervenes, rescues, and redeems even our darkest, most binding areas of brokenness.

I'm thankful for You-tube tutorials.  Nick had Wacky Wednesday for Dr. Seuss week, and so I had to learn how to tie on that neck-tie.  My husband is a lineman and an orchardist, and I grew up with a dad who was a commercial fisherman, then a logger, then a lineman.  Translation=my men have worn ties as many times as I can count on one hand.  So I needed to quickly figure out this tie for Nick and luckily some 10 year old genius on the internet made a video about it.  Milo thought Nick looked so fancy that he wanted to wear one too.  Kevin has exactly 2 ties in his closet that are probably a decade (ish?) old, so we were in business.  That's Milo's Donald Trump face.  I told him next time he makes that face he's going to his room....no I didn't. Almost.

I was feeling extraordinarily domestic the other day and made homemade pizza, with scratch dough and everything. I probably haven't done this since before Leah was born.  I got a screaming deal on some non-organic nitrate-loaded pepperoni from Grocery Outlet so I ditched my usual $10 Tuesday plan at Papa Murphy's and got to work.  I had help, as you can see below.  Leah had a heck of a time with the flour. Finally I stole it when she wasn't looking because I'm one of those moms that tries to be fun and sometimes I really do feel care-free about creative messes....until I don't. And then I panic at all the cleanup looming in front of me and start sweeping and wiping like a stark-raving lunatic. Not this day though because I ninja-swiped that flour canister. She came to find me a minute later and said "Where's the sugar?"

I'm thankful for the occasional slow day where we have time and space to make a meal from scratch, make a mess in the process, and take our time eating and hanging out.

Rolling

Story Break
 

Saucing

Cheesing

Slicing

What are you thankful for on this gray, rainy day?

Abundant Gratitude

Well it seems I find myself back here in this familiar territory of whiner-land once again.  I am, without a doubt, a grade-A grouch when I let my attitudes and thoughts go unchecked.

Back in December for advent I found three things to be thankful for each day and wrote about them, as a means of keeping myself accountable to be looking for the good things and shifting my perspective. The results were phenomenal.  My anxiety went down.  My episodes of raising my voice at my kids *almost* disappeared.  For the first time in several years, I did not fall into the depth of seasonal depression that the winter usually triggers for me.

Now here in March, I find myself again living in a pattern of grouchiness, angst, ungratefulness, stress, and selfishness.  As I drove to church this morning, I was having a little conversation with God. It went something like this: "God, I'm so sick of being so angry on the inside. I feel like I'm in a constant state of stress and I want to STOP IT! But every time I try to ask you for help I feel like I'm talking to myself. My prayers feel useless and you feel far away. I know you're not, but it feels like it."  Have you been there? Where you are beyond frustrated with yourself and your sin, but when you try to take it to God you feel like you're banging your head against the wall?

In that moment, as I was praying, I felt him remind me of this gratitude exercise I had done before, and all the ways he shows his love and abundance to us every moment of every day if we will only look around and pay attention.

I literally pulled over that moment as I noticed this gorgeous March snow covering everything so thick, draped on every single crevice of every tiny branch because the flakes were so wet and sticky.  Backlit by the morning sun, it was a fleeting moment of beauty that would quickly be melted, but I felt so thankful to see the morning light come up over the unseasonably snowy landscape.

Then I noticed this kid riding in the back seat.

 As we pulled into the church parking lot I heard her say "Kirsi Ahrens!" (that's how she says my name), because she says my name every time she puts her sunglasses on because she thinks she looks like me when she wears them.  How cute is that? How can I forget that every day I get to have three healthy, full of life kids living at my house?  That, in and of itself is a grace that should blow my mind daily when I read story after story of friends who have lost children, walked through major health struggles with their children, or have struggled to ever conceive at all.

The icing on the cake was when, at church, our pastor announced that we are going to embark on a 40 day fast from negativity as a way to observe lent.  It was like God giving me a neon sign that YES KRISTI YOU NEED TO CHANGE YOUR THINKING.  Duly noted.  

So, I'll be chronicling once again my #grantidotes here as a means to give God the glory He is due for the grace that he gives so undeservedly every day to people like me who chronically complain about dirty countertops, messy bedrooms, & overflowing laundry baskets...and on that note, here is the last thing I'm thankful for today.  It's SUPER shallow, but that's okay because I'm not trying to be something I'm not.  I'm shooting straight here; this singular, clean, clutter free space in our home makes me feel extremely calm when I look at it.  So I'm thankful for this one clean counter right here in our bathroom, because it's literally the only place in our house that isn't a disaster right now.