Word Therapy

The Resilient Yucca

Once uprooted

Suddenly, painfully

pulled from the soil of safety

 

The bed of dirt that

has sustained for decades

now repurposed for expansion

 

Alone in the scorching sun,

once watered roots carelessly 

thrown in a bucket.

 

Will re-planting come?

Or will the once-thriving plant

wither away in the dead space

of the white cylinder?

 

But, after a time, a new home is chosen.

A re-planting.

It's touch and go as the dry roots

try to live again.

 

Water and time are the only hope.

But will that be enough?

 

A year passes and there it sits.

Immobilized by the 

abruptness of the transplant.

 

The leaves barely green,

the most minimal signs of life

barely hanging on as it sits

for one year, then two,

not bearing a single flower.

 

But then on the 3rd year

-----Resurrection-----

 

A single stalk makes its way

toward the blue.

 

A singular eruption that 

births a multiplicity of blossoms.

Bells of white echoing

the innocence of re-birth.

 

And then, on year 7,

a girl of 7 passes by and sees

a trinity of promise;

7, the year of completeness,

the triplet of stalks echoes 

the promise of the cosmos

 

What seemed dead lives again.

The re-planting, which once

looked like death,

has given brith 

to more vibrant blossoms

than the former place.

 

When You Need to Do Surgery on Yourself

I had a WEIRD dream last night.

 

In my dream, I was back in scrubs like the old days when I worked as a nurse. I was in the back room of what I think was Doane’s pharmacy, although the room in my dream seems to be figment of my imagination.

 

Leah was on some kind of hospital bed with some kind of minor injury that she was needing help with. I was trying to get supplies to help with whatever she had going on, but first, I needed to look into this mirror to see what was happening with my eye.

 

Earlier in my dream, I had some eye irritation on my left side in the outer corner.

 

As I looked into the mirror I was shocked and horrified to see something growing out of the outer corner of my left eye. It was a clear and full of fluid (sorry, this is so gross), and it was in the shape of one of those long balloons that a clown would use to make balloon animals. 

 

I immediately panicked and consulted my phone to see what it was I might be dealing with. I found that it was a cyst that would need to be drained.

 

I had a scalpel of some kind and aggressively began trying to drain it, but when I did, that sucker grew at rapid speed. As I was trying to lance this behemoth and get it off my face, it really picked up the pace with its growth rate and I remember feeling panicked. 

 

What IS this??

 

As it grew, I doubled down on my efforts to take the sharp blade to it, and get this thing off of my face. 

Photo by Wendy Scofield on Unsplash

Fast forward to later on, when I was meeting up with a dear friend, telling her about this horrific experience I had, and my eye was no longer afflicted by what looked like the body of a little ballon-weiner-dog. It was gone, but the memory of that growth that seemed to have a life of its own, remained.

 

My apologies if you’re reading this in the morning while you’re trying to enjoy a cup of coffee and now find yourself dry-heaving with this disgusting story.

 

When I was up with Kevin and he was getting ready for work this morning, I told him about this dream, and as I was talking and the wheels were turning in my head, he said what I had already been thinking:

 

“Sounds like a plank-speck in the eye story”

 

Yes.

 

In Matthew 7:5, Jesus says: “You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye”

 

I don’t know if you are like me, and don’t absolutely love when you feel a little called out by the King of the Universe himself, but even though I’m reading this as a correction, I’m thankful for it. 

 

Lately I’ve been feeling so beleaguered by the weight of so many difficult things happening in my own little world, and the world at large. I’ve noticed that I often tend to rush to judgment in order to make sense of what is happening, because somehow that makes me feel more safe; less crazy; and less at fault for any of the darkness I may be contributing to this whole heavy, downtrodden world.

 

I think it’s interesting that in my dream, while Leah was sitting there waiting for me to help her, I literally could not, until I dealt with this ambitious balloon animal like creature that was growing out of my eye. The mother in me wants to think that the most noble thing to do would be to put aside my own needs and pain entirely and rush to fix my daughter. But the lesson here is that I really could not, when my own vision was becoming so obscured by this metastatic blinder.

 

It’s like that oxygen mask principle that we’ve all become so familiar with through riding on an airplane; You have to put your own on before you can help your neighbor. And in this case, it was less about donning something new, and rather cutting off something that would prevent me from being able to offer care.

 

Another thing that’s interesting is that, for the past several days I’ve been in a lot of physical pain. I’ve had another burst of migraines, accompanied by neck and shoulder pain that has been unrelenting. Yesterday I was praying, asking God to show me if this pain was a message; is it someone who is experiencing similar pain that I should be praying for? Am I clinging to something and refusing to let go, and the pain from that is being stored in my body? I think both of these could be true, but surprisingly, this morning I woke up totally pain free.

 

The pain I was experiencing in my body was on my left side; the eye situation in my dream was on the left side. Now, maybe I’m aggressively over-connecting the dots here, but as someone who believes that we are creatures that are fully integrated in our soul, spirit and body, I’ve been learning to listen to my body more as part of who I *really* am. I’ve often been of the mindset that overspiritualizes things and discounts my body as something that is just a throwaway receptacle for the REALLY important part of me; the part that will live on eternally. But just like Jesus had a body when He walked on earth, and then he had that same body resurrected after his death, I believe all of our bodies will experience the same fate. Like them or not, we will inhabit them forever.

 

So, in the meantime, I’m learning to listen and pay attention to these cues that offer an insight into what’s going on in my mind, thoughts, and emotions. What many would call the “inner world”.

 

My “inner world” has been a Judgey McJudgerson lately, and I’m thankful that God gave me this dream to show me the severity of living that way, and the aggressive measures that must be taken to rid myself of the log in my own eye in order to love my neighbors in the way I hope to be able to.

 

One more thing…when I started trying to cut this thing off, it fought back and grew like crazy. I think our sin can be the same way. Once we are aware and make that first baby step of repentance and distancing ourselves from the thing that is harming us and our ability to love others, the source of our sin (our temptation) usually doubles down and can leave us feeling like it just can’t be beat.

 

Keep that knife in your hand and don’t stop cutting until it’s all the way gone. You can get rid of it, but it won’t be pretty. You might feel like you are powerless to stop it, but with the right tool, (in my case, the scalpel of humility and self-reflection) you can cut it down. It might try to grow back again, but this won’t be your first rodeo.

 

 

The Pain of Hypocrisy (An Unexpected Lesson)

“Be careful to do the things that you demand of others. If you give yourself a pass, you might get hurt.”

 

This was an insight that God gave me when I asked him for wisdom in a brief, painful situation. I had just turned away from setting something on the washing machine, turned to walk back into the kitchen when sudden, searing pain shot through my left temple.

As I yelled Ow! and hunched over in pain, taking deep breaths and marveling that no profanities had escaped my mouth, I was stunned at my own stupidity and hypocrisy.

 

How many times have I walked through the kitchen, ranting at the boys to close the cupboards? I hate the unkempt way it makes everything look when cupboards are left open.

 

In my haste to grab some command hooks and make quick work of cleaning up and organizing the million motorcycle helmets that clutter our mud room, I had grabbed the hooks and left the cupboard door open.

I don’t remember it. It was done absentmindedly.

 

So as I was hunched over, I asked God what he wanted me to learn in that moment, because I realized I was the one to blame. How much easier it would have been if I could have hollered at the boys for leaving a cupboard door open! But I couldn’t, because I was the culprit.

And in that moment God was quick to remind me that I will be held to the same standard that I impose on others. 

 

Wow. 

 

As someone who often accidentally moves herself into a glass house, I’m thankful for this painful reminder from the Lord, that I should be careful not to throw stones.

 

A Warning Against Hypocrisy

Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples: “The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat. So you must be careful to do everything they tell you. But do not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach. They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.

“Everything they do is done for people to see: They make their phylacteries ^a wide and the tassels on their garments long; they love the place of honor at banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues; They love to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and to be called ‘Rabbi’ by others.

“But you are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have one Teacher, and you are all brothers. And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one Instructor, the Messiah. The greatest among you will be your servant. For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted. - Matthew 23:1-12

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. 

The Slump: Quarantine Days 7 & 8

Alright, I'm just going to shoot straight with you because lying is a sin and it's hard to be friends with fakers. The last couple of days were HARD. I started sliding down the slippery slope to anxiety and overwhelm and depression on Wednesday. Looking back, I was a little manic, talking off anyone's ear who would listen (sorry husband, and voxer friends). I was starting to notice that I felt agitation in my sprit that just wouldn't quit. 

At one point I drove around our little town randomly crying while looking at all these adorable small businesses and restaurants whose futures hold a tremendous amount of uncertainty right now. I prayed as I drove, and felt like the gray storm clouds covering the cascades were a perfect backdrop for the landscape of our world.

I kept trucking along the rest of the day, feeling EXTREMELY emotional, while working outside with the boys cleaning up orchard brush, and then randomly snapping at my family the rest of the night for the most minor of infractions.

It all came to a big explosive crest on Wednesday night after the kids went to bed, when I started screech-pleading with my husband to please understand my desperate state:

"Don't you see?? There's a reason I have never homeschooled!!!! I can't do this! They won't do their stuff! You do your "job" in the morning and then go out and drive a tractor BY YOURSELF the rest of the day, and meanwhile I have all this stuff to do that's in addition to what I was doing before the lockdown, and all my support systems have vanished!!!" He was looking at me and responding to me as if I was, in fact, a crazy person. Well, yeah. I tend to go from 0 to 60 before he can even manage one blink of those unfairly long, dark eyelashes of his. I basically hated him for even existing, and then slept on the couch. Meanwhile, in the other universe also known as REALITY, Kevin is the most generous, kind, funny man alive.

Wow. 

How are things going at your house??

Then yesterday I fell into the pit of despair and just decided I was "unavailable" for the first half of the day and put on my giant sunglasses and my noise canceling earbuds and took several naps and stress ate a bunch of snack mix and some chocolate in lieu of a real breakfast and lunch. The boys just basically spent the day outside doing stuff with Kevin in the orchard. At one point, during one of my naps, I woke up to Leah's little hand holding mine as she laid in the bed silently, awake, next to me. She knew I was down for the count and I am amazed at her kind little heart that just shows up for her mom who is having the worst day, and not even being nice at all. 

And then, it was as if the cloud just lifted. I can't even explain it. I just felt better and made dinner and cleaned the house a little bit. 

Maybe it will be that during this time of of pressure and lockdown and uncertainty, we will come face to face with our emotions that usually send us racing for our coping mechanisms. I know that usually I have a commitment of some sort that will cause me to rally rather than wallow. I don't have that now. Maybe it's good. I heard a therapist once say: "You have to feel it to heal it" and it's hard to fully feel it when you've always got distractions and escapes. Yesterday there was nowhere to escape to, so I just went to sleep. And I was SO TIRED. What is up with all of this tired-ness? 

Anyway, I suppose it's par for the course to have some hard days and I am thankful for GRACE. This morning I was reading from Mark, and Jesus is just so forgiving and willing to hit the reset button for us. 

I think we all need to be really kind to ourselves right now. Things are not normal. This is not the time to tackle projects (well, maybe for some people), or to compare myself to how so-and-so is doing her quarantine homeschool/workouts/home projects/hobbies in the halls of Instagram and Pinterest. Just, NO. 

This is a time that I need to get really quiet with God, and BE with Him and let him heal some of my deepest, darkest feelings. I need that grace every day just to keep going right now, to do the next right thing. I need the stamina that only the hope of Jesus can give me, to keep speaking truth to myself and pressing on in endurance for the sake of my family. I can do that even when I had what felt like a total zero of a day yesterday. It's okay. God gives do-overs, and thankfully, so do the people I live with. They are a gracious bunch, I tell ya what. 

In my last post I talked about cultivating our awareness of what we feel during this time as sort of an optional exercise that might bring us into greater levels of self-awareness. Boy was I wrong! The last few days didn't feel "optional". It would have taken some strong medicine to numb out from those big feels. I guess I should be careful what I ask for. 

This Feelings Wheel hangs on our kitchen cabinet. I have often looked at it, as a guide to help me get to the bottom of why I'm feeling anxious or angry. Much of it comes down to fear. 

 

My prayer for me and for you is that as we navigate all of these new circumstances that can make us feel afraid, we would have extraordinary grace for ourselves as we wade through these new, and often complex feelings. Shame is the enemy and will only keep us stuck. Feel, maybe fail, maybe learn something, and keep enduring. God is the best of guides here, and all of the truth any of us needs to overcome these fears, is found in Him and Him alone. 

Much love to you during this time of crisis and change, and I'm praying hope over each one of you that reads these words. 

 

For more on how to feel safe in this current time we find ourselves in, check out this video my friend Cam shared with me:

 

 

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.

Hurry, Slow, & My Year of Almost Losing It {Giveaway}

“If at first you don’t succeed, dust yourself off and try again.” -Aaliyah

 

Somewhere in the memory centers of my brain lies this encouragement from the late modern poet who filled the airwaves of my house when I was an 8th grader.  Well, Aaliyah and Alanis Morrisette. I was a little conflicted.

 

Not much has changed.

 

In my constant quest for a life that feels peaceful yet invigorating, restful yet focused, and connected yet gives space for solitude, I find myself yet again at the crossroads of the digital world and my “real” life.

 

Earlier this spring I spent time preparing for and leading a (very small) group of people through a brief series on what it looks like to have technological boundaries and healthy practices in our home. While I did manage to actually do as I said for a stint, upon the arrival of the end of October I looked back to see how far I had drifted.

 

I was back 110% on Social Media. I was back to responding to every text and email and notification requesting my attention as if I were the commander in chief and these were my troops asking for my immediate wisdom and direction. In reality I had once again bought into the lie of our modern age that unless we are constantly connected and available, we are dropping the ball and letting people down. Business cannot carry on as usual if I’m not available 24/7 to answer back. Or maybe it’s just my own egocentric fear that people will think I’m irresponsible or unreliable if I have boundaries and don’t match the near-cancerous urgency that our iPhones have conditioned us to believe is normal with every red circle and vibration and banner alert.

 

Because I was always seeing what everyone else was doing, my own filter for how much I can do in my own life became dysfunctional. When you see all these other people doing all this other stuff, you can start to feel like you can handle doing some more stuff too. I mean, if everyone else is jumping off a cliff….jump off that cliff. Wait…Thanks mom, I still remember that one, but still fail to choose the correct life-giving option much of the time.

 

So there was that.

 

On the side of things happening in my physical body, I was crying frequently and randomly; the stresses of life seemed to be more than I could handle on any given day. I was having nightmares. One of the most jarring was when I found myself inside a building that had uniformly wood paneled floors, walls, ceilings, and I was brought there against my will, and no one would help me get out. I had been involuntarily committed.  I was waking up and not going back to sleep in the middle of the night. My joints were hurting. 

 

I was in trouble and I knew it, and I still couldn’t figure out how to slow down.

 

Then, one fateful evening in our RelateStrong small group, during Conflict Resolution Night (Come on, you KNOW you want to do that! Get with your spouse or partner and air your dirty laundry and ask everyone else for ideas to get you going with problem solving. Not vulnerable AT ALL), my dear husband was the FIRST PERSON to raise his hand to bring a conflict to the table.  I was eager to hear what he had to say.

 

In an incredibly tactful and kind way, he basically said that I over schedule the crap out of our family and I’m stressing everybody out. That we never say ‘No’ and never have downtime and it’s not working. 

 

I sat there nodding my head in full agreement but still not knowing how to hit the brakes. After some dialoguing about WHY this might be happening and some healthy and helpful feedback from the other group members we felt hopeful.  I did mention that I didn’t think it was a coincidence that I had just gotten an Amazon notification letting me know that a book that I pre-ordered back in the Spring had arrived at our house that evening. The book? Wait for it……

 

The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry

Now, believe it or not this title phrase catalyzed my word for 2019 which was ‘SLOW’. The book title is actually part of a quote from Dallas Willard, and I’ve heard it more than once through the years. Epic failure to abide by that word this year for me, but that story is for another time. 

 

Since that night at RelateStrong, I’ve been reading this book and it has been the most poignant, timely book I think I’ve ever read. It’s as if God had a hand in getting it into my hands or something. He knows better than I do that if I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I never have time to experience the peace and love that He has for me, and I also act like a huge jerk to the people I claim to love the most. Not to mention the fact that I completely lose sight of the big picture because I’m lost in the weeds of notifications, attending events that I feel like I “should” so I don’t disappoint people, and endless twitter wars, instagram advertising, all leading my mind to run at a frenetic pace that ultimately leads to me having dreams of being in a mental hospital.

 

Do I have a well-crafted plan for how I will not let myself slip back into the frenetic pace that almost drove me crazy? Not yet. Am I committed to giving it my best effort to staying the course in order that I may live the life that God has called me to live, rather than the life that busyness, consumerism, and my iPhone are calling me to live? Absolutely. The price of not continuing on this adventure of living a little weird in the face of our 21st century American culture is too high. 

 

So, since I like to talk about books and I want other people to benefit from this book that has been incredibly helpful to me, I’m giving away a copy.

It is NOT this one, which incidentally, cracks me up. A “high speed read” summary of a book about ruthlessly eliminating hurry. I mean…

 

 

To be entered, like and share this post on social media (yes, slightly ironic), and sign up to be an email subscriber (one of the best ways to gradually disengage from social media while still receiving some of the content that brought you there in the first place)

A few of my favorite pages so far:

 

 

 

 

Now & Not Yet

Those clouds are moving really fast outside. I’ve heard that it’s supposed to get really windy this afternoon and evening….much to my disappointment. If it blows really hard, so many of the leaves will be gone! It feels like a robbery, to just be seeing everything burst into color only to have a cold wind come and blow it all away before we get very long to enjoy it. 

 

As I’m thinking about this, I realize that it really illuminates my attitude toward life; I’m a person who lives in the present. I have long been envious of my female friends who think weeks and months in advance (in fact I was just saying this to another mom at gymnastics class this morning-Hey Stephanie!). Thinking ahead has major advantages for planning and projecting and being prepared for what’s next, and since I’ve become a mom, it’s definitely a skill I’ve had to learn, but I’ve found that it also creates stress and makes my soul feel hurried and overwhelmed. 

 

Now, about those leaves. 

I want them to stay a while longer because that yellow on the pear trees contrasts so beautifully with the dark green and tan of the hill across the canyon. The blue sky looks so liquid when red and orange and rust punch up into the sky on the canopies of enormous deciduous beauties.

 

But if you’re a skiier, or a snowmobiler, or a Hallmark Christmas movie fanatic (Just, why? Help me understand. I’m going to try one more time this year to make it through just one.), you might see the fall colors differently. Merely a gateway to what’s next. 

 

I think as people we always think our way of thinking is correct.

 

If you’re future oriented, you may be constantly wondering why everyone around you is not looking into the future, excitedly making plans and getting things lined up in order to pull off the next big venture. 

 

If you’re present oriented, you might be wondering why everyone else seems to be so stressed out, and how on earth is she planning for 2020 already?? (Incidentally, Halloween is in 7 days and I have no costumes figured out). 

 

Or maybe you are someone who lives in the past. Nostalgia is your art form, and you do the good work of reminding all of us about our roots and where we’ve come from, traditions that have shaped us and brought us to our current reality.

 

Back to those leaves…

I was thinking about the seasons earlier today when I was driving though the Fred Meyer parking lot and noticing that some of their red trees were nearly entirely disrobed of their fall majesty, and thinking about when the garden center would burst to life in the spring. The smells of fertilizer and the crisp wind that blows off of the Cascades would invigorate the people of the valley to get to work and join in the beautiful emergence of the spring, by buying plants, digging in the dirt, and preparing the land for the beauty and heat of summer.

 

It gave me hope to reflect upon the fact that God has ordained these seasons as a very terrestrial reminder that as spiritual beings having a momentary human experience, we are invited into basking in all that is offered by the past, present AND future.

 

We live in this beautiful reality of the Now and Not Yet. In the Now, we live in the tension of a world that has received the hope of Immanuel (past), continues to see His love spread throughout the globe (present), with the future promise of full redemption “far as the curse is found”. All things will be new. It will be a brand new season where we won’t cycle through seasons of death and life. It will be life giving way to more life and joy giving way to more joy forever and ever. 

 

Jesus never runs out of beautiful things for us. Look outside today and remember that. Enjoy this moment and don’t live in fear of what the future will bring, or the fear that nothing can be as good as the past. Presence in His presence is possible today, and He’s shouting to you through the wind and the change and the movement of creation. 

 

Don’t forget to listen.

The Space to Struggle

If you are Facebook friends with me, you may have seen this story from last week:

 

My apologies to the greater Wenatchee community, more specifically those of you who were shopping at Costco in the past 30 minutes. If you incurred auditory distress because of a shrieking 4 year old incessantly proclaiming “i want my princess dress!”i would recommend taking a full sensory break at this point (i know i need one!) 

Mom held the line and did not buy the dress, much to the chagrin of our fellow shoppers and Costco employees.

Now I’m going to go lay in a dark silent room and recover from the shame of being “that mom” at the grocery store😂 just kidding, i have a kid haircut and meeting at the school, but THEN! I’m retreating so i don’t completely flip out on this exhausted preschooler!

 

Ugh.

 

Seriously one of the most humiliating experiences I’ve had as a parent. Probably second in line to when I had to leave a baby shower because my toddler crawled across the room and bit the mom to be’s unsuspecting 1 year old son. 

The whole time the Costco Dress Incident was happening (it has it’s own code name now, just like we are in the movies retelling the horror of the tale after the fact), I was pounding all of the correct self talk into the rapidly fraying sanity center of my brain and trying not to dissolve into a puddle of tearful shame, or worse, blow up and “show the kid who’s boss”.

 

I had to repeatedly shut myself up on the inside as I speculated what people must be thinking, how viciously they must be judging my parenting skills, how many must be in sheer shock that I didn’t do the decent thing and abandon the cart and remove the screamer so they could have their pleasant day with $90,000 worth of groceries followed by a slice of pizza and a frozen yogurt. 

I contemplated buying the dress. I contemplated leaving the store. Both of these solutions would have been a win for everyone else that day, but they would have been a loss for Leah.

 

I did not leave. I did not cry. And I did not cave.

 

You see, I live 35 minutes away from Costco, and I have two older boys who eat like they are training for the Apocolypse. Because of the hustle of the back to school week, beginning of school year/sports stuff, and being out of town, I had punted this trip to Costco a full week past when it needed to happen. So I was NOT leaving that full cart there and waiting until the following week (Hello Instacart?? Are you listening? Right now would be a FANTASTIC time to start delivering to my address. At least if you’re not going to, please tell me BEFORE I LOAD AN ENTIRE ONLINE CART FULL and then get told by a merry little memo at the end that you in fact, do NOT deliver to my address, and then I watch my hopes and dreams of peaceful grocery acquisition vanish before my eyes like a flight of craft beers laid out in front of a bunch of hipsters. Thanks)

(This is an ideal shopping experience with a preschooler. This was not my reality. Photo by David Veksler on Unsplash)

So there I was, holding the line, avoiding eye contact, and repeating in my most calm voice “Sorry Leah, we are not buying the dress today”.  And one mom behind me (BLESS HER HEART!!! I wish I could thank her), tried to encourage me by assuring me she had been there before too, but had left her kids home today! I took this gold shot of encouragement, steeled my resolve, and carried on by answering affirmatively when asked if I wanted boxes, swiped that card, and got the h*$$ out of there. She finally shut it down approximately when we got the car.

The rest of the day I was relatively comatose and felt like I had completely gone into survival mode. I think I went to bed early.

 

The next morning I asked Leah if she was feeling better today. She replied (with a sort of embarrassed smile and half eye-roll) “Ugh. Yesterday was such a idiot day. I just couldn’t quit crying”

 

In that moment, I saw that she felt terrible about the whole thing. It’s also worth mentioning that she had woken up sick that morning. Isn’t that usually how it goes? Your kids act like lunatic hellions and you wonder what in the world is going on, and then they wake up sick the next day! Everything in their bodies is fighting to cope and so mentally, they just can’t take it and you get a Costco Dress Incident. It had also been her first full week of preschool, right on the heels of a camping trip full of late nights, so this girl was BEAT. (And I hear you in the back saying “well, duh mom! Don’t take her to Costco like that!"  Listen, she was fine when we set out on our shopping adventure, and like I said before: Apocalypse training at my house)

 

Of course, no one at the store gets to see this full picture. All they see is this girl who is seemingly obviously undisciplined, entitled, spoiled, and ruining the sonic atmosphere of the warehouse store.

 

In that moment, is it really fair to judge? Perfect parents with vanilla kids…don’t answer that. But everyone else…don’t we do this all the time? We see a snippet of someone’s life, maybe it’s a span of time that is particularly challenging, or a full on catastrophe, and we cast our ballot on whether or not they’ve got it together, hypothesize why their life has gone of the rails, dish out the judgment and move on.

 

Meanwhile when it’s us in the crisis, we know the truth. We know the silent struggles that no one else sees. 

 

More importantly, God knows. He is the God of the long game.

He is not concerned with our social presentation in a moment; He is concerned with our spiritual transformation for an eternity.

If he has this kind of grace-filled parental perspective towards us, I’m begging Him to continue to give this to me for my kids. Because too often it’s easy to get stressed because our kids aren’t conforming to everyone else’s expectations and we drop the hammer and want to whip them into shape because we fear judgement. 

 

Let’s collectively STOP IT.

 

If God, the perfect parent, gives us free moral agency and a lifetime to be transformed into the people He has designed us to be, lets extend that same grace to our kids and to those around us.  Let's give each other the space and grace to struggle.

 

Until that day, maybe carry some ear protection when you hit the grocery store. 

Photo by cetteup on Unsplash

Turning Pages & Trading Numbers

I set a goal this year. Well, a few actually, but one was very specific.

 

I decided that instead of continuing to say that I’d become too busy to read, while frittering away the hours reading news articles, status updates and tweets in 4 (or 14 or 40!!) minute increments, I was going to sit my butt down and get some reading done of good old fashioned books.

 

I decided to go full paper, because I miss the tactile experience of turning pages, and I don’t always like to be tethered to a device. There is something so freeing about grabbing an actual book, putting your phone in a timeout, and turning some pages.

I didn’t even set sub-categorical goals with regard to fiction or non-fiction or genre, I just said I wanted to read 25 books this year.

 

I did a little check in back in June to see if I was near the halfway mark, and I was pretty close. 

 

Here’s what I’ve read so far:

 

Non-Fiction:

 

Lost Boy-Greg Laurie  

This was an autobiographical look at Pastor & Evangelist Greg Laurie's life. 

Jesus Revolution- Greg Laurie

Kind of a "Part 2" to Lost Boy. Greg Laurie's beginning years as a pastor and what God did in the 70s in California.

Irresistible-Andy Stanley

A very interesting (and sometimes controversial) book about why our faith as Christians has become unappealing, why it should not be that way, and how we move forward. I would say this is a good read for anyone who is currently in ministry or if you are raising kids and hope that they will follow Christ.

The Road Back to You-Ian Morgan Cron

The Enneagram. Some people love it, some people hate it, but it's fast gaining traction in all kinds of spaces as a tool for helping people to develop self awareness, others awareness, and cultivate healthy growth in relationships. It's an ancient personality typing system that is surprisingly accurate.

Here Now-Kate Merrick (This one made me ugly cry a few times)

This is a memoir about Kate's family's time with their daughter during her cancer treatments. It's such a good and poignant reminder that we live with actual people who are incredibly precious, and we would all be better off if we took the time to be more intentionally present.

Educated-Tara Westover 

A page turning memoir about a girl from Idaho who was raised sort of off the grid. It's full of stories involving alternative lifestyles, mental illness, and the grit necessary to overcome an extremely dysfunctional childhood. 

Chasing Slow-Erin Loechner

This was a fun read. Her writing style is humorous and the book is peppered with anecdotes, pretty pictures, recipes, etc. It's got some depth as far as her personal story, but overall it's a pretty easy read.

The Tech Wise Family-Andy Crouch

A good resource to have in your home regarding good boundaries with technology

12 Ways Your Phone is Changing You-Tony Reinke

A look at what our constant use of smartphones is doing to us. (Spoiler alert: It's alarming. For about 5 minutes. And then I was back on Twitter)

 

Fiction:

Where the Crawdads Sing-Delia Owens (I wish she would hurry up and write more! SO GOOD)

The Great Alone-Kristin Hannah 

The Shack-Paul Young

 

 

Historical Fiction: 

The Nightingale-Kristin Hannah (I must visit France now that I’ve read this book)

All The Light We Cannot See-Anthony Doerr

Before We Were Yours-Lisa Wingate 

 

I had kind of given up fiction over the past decade. I was in a state of feeling like my life was in perpetual chaos, for which I was woefully unprepared, so I spent the bulk of my time reading books on how to improve myself, improve my relationships, deepen my connection with God, and generally how to have better skills in marriage and parenting. This was a valuable time of growth for sure, but I didn’t realize how much I missed fiction!

 

There is something amazing about getting sucked into a good story. It’s become sort of an escape for me this past year. As it turns out, I lean toward fiction that tends to be on the darker side of things; whether that is a book that is historical fiction based on events where the author crafts a likely narrative of what could have actually happened and tells the story through the eyes of fictional characters, or I lean toward fiction that contains a lot of deep emotional turmoil and traumatic twists and turns throughout the characters lives.  A few times now I’ve been told by friends to whom I’ve recommended books: “Kristi, that book was really good but it was just so sad!”

 

In a weird way those are the books that make me feel the most alive. There is something in me that likes to remain connected to the suffering of the world, and books like the Nightingale and All the Light we Cannot See, which both were set in WWII, remind me that life on earth is fleeting, suffering is real, injustice is horrific, and we should be careful not to waste our precious lives on things that are inconsequential.

 

Of course my melodramatic flair may be due to the fact that I’m a 4w5 on the Enneagram…yeah. If you read my earlier blog post where I self-declared as a 3, well I was wrong. One thing I’ve been learning about the Enneagram is that many people go through a process of identifying themselves as the wrong number, often multiple times, until they really figure out their true number. What a relief! Maybe I’m not crazy after all. Or maybe I am. Anne Lamott says it well: "It's okay to realize you're crazy and damaged. All the best people are.”

 

If you would like to learn more about the Enneagram, check out the book I listed above called The Road Back to You. It’s an incredible resource that discusses how to find your type, and then gives you a healthy overview of all 9 types. It’s not an overly cerebral read, and the author is funny so it’s not torturous like many self-help/self-discovery books tend to be.

 

As for hitting my 25 book goal, I think I can do it. Now that school is back in session, I am hoping to pick up the pace a bit with more structure and rhythm in our lives. Whoever talks about summer being a great time to get all the reading done, maybe doesn’t have young kids?? My reading pace slowed to a crawl over the summer. I’m in the midst of 3 books right now and I have a huge stack that I hope to get to by the end of the year. Maybe I’ll even pass 25!

 

I’ll recap my others at the end of the year, and if you’ve read this whole post, congratulations! You must also REALLY love to read!