Pause

I'm learning how to count to 10 again.

A funny thing for a gal in her late twenties to be re-learning.

We have a built in sensor system, called emotions. When something triggers us, it's as though a little light starts to blink inside, and that light represents a feeling. Each light corresponds to a different emotion, and they help us put words to our experiences, and name them. Emotions are deeply important to being human.

Emotions are also tricky, because you often can't control when one(s) hit you. Emotions can come on quickly, and without warning. They can flood us right away, and very immediately put us in a fog. They can make your sensors light up fast!

When you're feeling so intensely about something, it's easy to act impulsively, almost explosively, because you just want it out or solved, but more often than not, our inability to hold that emotion in for a moment, causes pain in our relationships. Our desire to solve the problem is good, but there has to be a better way to get from pain to solution. A bridge of some sort.

That bridge, in my opinion, is called a pause. We may not be able to control how we feel about something, but we can certainly control how we respond to it. When we choose to respond hastily in the heat of an intense emotion, we run the risk of damaging each other. It's amazing how letting your feelings settle first, changes everything.

I'm easily startled, easily frustrated with my kids, and easily overwhelmed with the craziness of being a mom, wife, aunt, friend, and frankly... a human being. Don't get me wrong, life is good, I'm just trying to figure it out, still. I'm grateful that growth works in process, and that new areas where growth is needed, are revealed in bits at a time, because if I'm overwhelmed at the mere fact that I exist, then I certainly couldn't do well, if everything I ever needed to work on was just piled on me at once. 

Learning to pause, has become a theme for me recently. Counting to ten when I'm overwhelmed, angry, or hurt, has saved me from regret. It's not an art I've mastered yet- I need major adjustments with my attitude towards my kids- but I'm certainly more aware of the value in stopping before responding.

Your "pause" could be a literal ten seconds in the height of your frustration, or it could be more figurative... Letting a call go to voice mail first, and calling back after your thoughts are gathered. Taking a few days before you send or respond to an email, or walking out of a room gracefully when you are feeling like you are going to burst. Whatever the situation and whatever the emotion, it's always easier to come back and say "ok, I'm ready to talk about this rationally now," instead of, "I'm sorry I said that, please forgive me." Spare yourself the regret, and take a deep breath.

Learning to count to ten when I was younger, was far easier than the kind of counting to ten I'm learning to do now, but I'd rather be preventative instead of regretful. I'd rather think now, instead of be sorry later. I'd rather speak last, than speak too quickly, first. I'd liked to be known for thoughtfulness in my words, instead of impulsiveness.

Be slow to speak.




              

Even When- Jesus and Gay Marriage

In my faith journey, there are two thoughts that I've been consumed with recently...

1) That the kingdom of God does not, and will not, look like our government system.

2) We need to view everything through the lens of Christ.

The issue of gay marriage is a big one, and this week, especially, it's taking a front seat in the news and in our conversations. It's obviously, a hugely important and relevant issue for this time in history.

I also think it's so interesting that this debate is happening the week of Easter.

If there ever there was a display of service, humility, anti-violence, and love, Jesus is that display. The life of Christ fascinates me. He was the source of truth and clear about how kingdom of heaven functions differently than the governments in this world, yet never condemned or judged anyone for not understanding or living it out perfectly. To the most extreme humanly possible, he showed his kingdom was different by being crucified without arguing, fighting back, or cursing those who persecuted him. Even in the midst of our dirt and muck, he humbly laid down his life. And not just for those who agreed he was the Messiah; for those who disagreed with him, and even more, those who hated him. He laid down the "sword," if you will, and was willing to look weak, so love and peace could prevail. He may have seemed passive, but truthfully, love is about the least passive thing he could have ever displayed.

I've been wondering, how should those who follow Christ respond to this super intense issue. It seems complicated, but maybe it's not actually as complicated as we've made it. What would it change if we actually looked through the lens of Jesus, and followed his example? If we stopped placing our ultimate authority in the government, and laid down our lives in the midst of disagreement, how much more would it display Christ, than fighting tooth and nail against the rights of those who are gay? What if, as those who are trying to follow Christ, we set aside whatever opinion we may have on this issue- whether for or against, set down our bibles, stop spewing our unhelpful words, and simply loved? Just like Christ did. He was convicted, but humble in his approach. He served, he washed feet, he didn't try to change the government or people's hearts with force or harsh words. He let things be as they were, and simply dwelt among us. He loved deeply and served unreservedly. What if we let God work on our hearts, first, before drawing bold lines in the sand?  What would it look like to keep our mouths shut, but our hearts open big? If we truly believe that the kingdom of God is not like the governments here, then what is there to fear if it does pass? What if we say, there are plenty of sinful behaviors to go around, and we're not going to pick apart each others lives, but work on our own instead? What if the we listen first, seek to understand one another, and loved no matter what? Would it be so bad, no matter what the law says?

This week marks the celebration of Christ's death and resurrection. I think it would be silly for us to not stop this week and ask ourselves how the most loving, gentle, caring, and powerful being to have ever existed, would look at this gay marriage issue, especially considering this is the week we are about to celebrate that beings' most monumental act of love. If he is our standard, then we must try to see things through his lens, through his actions, and through his life. And to me, the answer is not to fight, the answer is to love through service, and learn about one another first. Nothing else changes hearts than that. Not law, not government. In the midst of this country arguing about gay marriage this week, and also celebrating Christ's death and resurrection, let us remember that Jesus served even when, that Jesus was beaten even when, that Jesus was crucified even when, and that Jesus forgave and loved even when. We should be able to do the same. Love, even when.

We live in an either/or culture. We see that if we have one thing, the opposite can't also exist. I've been inspired these last few weeks, by a book a book I've been reading, to challenge the notion that two seemingly opposites can't co-exist. Can gay marriage exist in this country, and God still be present and active? Yes. Let us not reduce God's presence and work to a little law. He's bigger than that, and often works fervently in the "even when." This law is likely going to pass at some point. So what! My hope is not in what this government says what we can and can't do. My hope is in Christ, who walks with us in the valleys, who works on us in process, who meets us exactly where we are at, who loves deep, wide, and vast, and who conquered death. DEATH. My only responsibility is live out love the way he did. If he is big enough to demolish death, than he is surely big enough to love and cherish us each one of us, no matter where we stand, no matter what lifestyle we live, and even if/when gay marriage becomes law. We have nothing to fear.

Let us remember that God was resurrected and he redeemed us for all time. The government of his time, had no barring on what he was capable of, and the government of our time, has no barring on what he's capable of today.

May we see that laws and rules are not the end all, regardless of what happens, and that our lens in which we see the world, needs to be seen through Jesus Christ, who served, loved, and laid down his life...even when.

Love is a Risk

It's Valentine's Day, and Bobby and I got to spend the whole day together, but it's not exactly how I would have imagined.

To say this has been a shitty week, would be the understatement of my life, but it's the only word that comes close to accurately describing what's happened over here.

On Monday, I went in for my routine monthly prenatal doctor's appointment, only to find out that baby Cadriel didn't survive past nine weeks. I was supposed to measure at 11 weeks. With no physical indicators on my end, I was shocked. When delivering the news, the doctor was perfectly delicate, very sympathetic, and also straight to the point... they needed to get the baby out of me soon. I was told that the best option for success was to have surgery to remove everything. Let's just add injury to insult (I switched the phrase for this case). There is nothing like getting up way too early, to do something you hate, that you then have to pay lots of money for... and on Valentine's day. Truth be told, I'm not a huge Valentine's girl, but I sure as hell didn't want to spend it in the hospital, losing a part of my supposed future. Bobby was by side, or in the waiting room the whole time, and I guess when push comes to shove, that's what love is after all.

I'm not angry with God. He didn't do this. Nor do I believe that this is part of some amazing plan He has. He redeems things, but doesn't give us our pain. We live in a world that is so broken, so pain filled, and so rampant with suffering, and because of that, things like this happen. He is not responsible, but He is near....He was with me in the room when I first found out. He was with me when I drove home with wet, red eyes. He was with me when I came home and Bobby held me. He was with me when we told Layla what happened. He was with me I escaped to the bathroom to cry more. He was with me when I couldn't sleep that night. He was with me when my dear friends showed up with dinner and goodies. He was with me when my amazing friend offered to help get me to New York to see her and get away. He was with me when friends called with condolences. He was with me when I shed tears over receiving each bouquet of flowers sent. He was with me today, when this loss was physically finalized. And He will be with me with each breath I breathe through this recovery- emotional and physical. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." Never have I felt more sadness, never have I felt more comfort. Strangely, there's been blessing in this.

See the thing with loving anything, is that it is a risk. In order for love to be true, there must be a choice, and if there is no choice, there is no love. When you choose to love, you open your heart, and when your heart is open, it's vulnerable, and when it's vulnerable, both good and bad have equal opportunity at your heart. But, just because there is the chance for bad to creep in, it doesn't mean you close your heart to the good things. If you never risked, you'd never love. And that's what we want. No matter what form of love you experience, i.e. romantic, friendship, a family member, or the love of a child, you are exposing your fragility. It's terrifying. But we do it anyway, because that's what we long for- to love and be loved. My heart wanted this baby, and though I've had two very healthy pregnancies in the past, there is always risk involved with conceiving and carrying a child, because the unknowns are at every single corner. I took the risk anyway, because I love. I loved the baby the second we found we were pregnant, and because I loved that baby right away, I mourn its death.

Love hurts sometimes, but love also heals. It does both. Never in my life have I experienced this kind of pain, but I've also never experienced the kind of love, support, and help in time of need, like I have this week. There's been a few times this week where I've said, "If you're going to go through something this shitty, go through it with people who care about you." It makes everything different. My grief is thick, for lots of reasons, but my hope and sense of comfort is just as real as my sadness. It's an odd place to be, but it's what I know. I am letting the tears flow as they may, and letting comfort and peace build me up when it comes. I don't think this is something you ever "get over," in the emotional sense, but I do believe that as time passes, the sting will fade, and I'll be able to take fresh steps forward. No matter what though, my heart will be forever imprinted because of this little baby that just couldn't survive.

The journey to having another baby may not be over, but today is a major pitfall, and that has to be named for what it is, and be ok. This sucks, I hate this, didn't want this, and wouldn't wish it on anyone. Period.

So, Bobby and I spent the day together on Valentine's Day. It may not be how I imagined spending this day, but I'm certainly not questioning Bobby's love me, and that is celebration enough.

**My heartfelt thanks to everyone who has called, texted, emailed, fb messaged, stopped by, and helped with Layla and Cullen. It's absolutely unbelievable to me that there has been such an outpouring of love, prayers, and support. Truly, I give you my deepest gratitude. Thank you.**

One Word 365- Complete

I'm a bit of a New Year Resolution, Scrooge. January is the toughest month of the year for me. I'm coming down off of the holiday high, and everything takes more energy than usual to do. I love living in Washington, but one of the hard things about winter here, is that it is dark- pitch black dark- at 5:00pm. My resolve to do anything is quickly diminished by the fact that I am ready for bed at 5:30pm. I realize the start of a new year is a great time for some to start new habits, and regain strength for the year to come, but I just find myself tired and worn out at the beginning of January. Therefore, I've never really been one make resolutions at the beginning of the year. 

There are so many reasons blogging is food for my soul. It's been an outlet for my thoughts, a place where I can bounce ideas and thoughts off of anyone who will listen, and a place to express and encourage my creativity. The biggest reason I love blogging though, is that it has brought me some dear friends, who I wouldn't otherwise know, or know as well. Jenny, and Trischa are such ladies. So when Trischa mentioned this concept of "One Word 365," to Jenny and me,  I was immediately drawn to the idea, since I pretty much love anything she or Jenny has to say.

I may not jump on the resolution bandwagon, but I am a huge fan of bettering yourself and evaluating where growth is needed, and that is the exact concept of "One Word 365." Instead of a traditional resolution that says, "I will do this," or "I won't don't that anymore", the focus is picking a word, one word, for the year, that you want to emulate, and learn about. A commitment to understanding the depth and meaning of a word, and allowing it change you, is a concept I can wrap myself around. So, this is my pseudo New Year Resolution- to let my word change me.

It took me a few days to figure out what word I wanted to be attached to all year long, but once the word came to mind, I knew it was the right one.

My word for this year is Complete.

The dictionary defines "complete" as...

having all parts or elements; lacking nothing; whole; entire; full

finished; ended; concluded

to make whole or entire

to bring to an end; finish

This is what I am defining "complete" as this year. It's two fold for me.

A) I want to be a person who follows through with the things that I say I am going to do. I don't want to make empty promises to others- especially my kids. I desire to be a mom who will "complete" the things I say I am going to. If I say I am going to do something for or with my kids, I want to make those things happen, or not say anything at all. If I can't deliver, I don't want to commit, or even open my mouth. Those little ones deserve for my words to hold weight. Beyond my kids, generally speaking, I want to do for friends and family, what I say I will do. I know for me this is an area that needs improvement, and this year will be devoted to really focusing on following through for those I care about. It's easy to say you'll do something, then in the busy-ness of life, let it slip between your fingers.... No more.

B) The second part of the word "complete" that I want to emulate, is the alternate definition. Not the part where you say "I completed that task," but the part that says means "to make whole." I know that as long as we walk this earth, we will never be "finished," but I do believe that as we travel deeper and farther on our life's journey, that new pieces of our brokenness are revealed, or brought to the surface. If we choose to ignore that brokenness when we feel it, we simply remain broken, and therefore stagnant. I don't want to make choices the aid in my brokenness. Therefore, in the parts that I am aware of currently, I want to work hard to make my present broken parts "complete," or whole again. Maybe it will just be one thing this year, maybe it will be a snowball affect and there will be 10 things, but regardless, I want to be aware and working on wholeness in my life, and begin the journey of making those parts "complete."

Trischa, Jenny, and I will likely be posting on our "One Word" experience throughout this year. You can follow along, or not, but somehow, just putting words out there for the world to see, holds me accountable- which I need.

So, here's to throwing in the towel to New Year Resolutions, and doing something that might actually stick. I hope to "complete" this year being different than when it began.

Thoughts on the Connecticut Shooting

I woke up this morning and my Facebook feed was bombarded with news of a shooting at an elementary school in Connecticut. Statuses of prayers, thoughts, and love were being sent to that part of the country as the shock of what had happened began to set in. I was no different. My heart sank, I was burdened with deep sadness, and I was wishing that what we were all hearing, was wrong. But we weren't, and today many are grieving the loss of the ones they hold most dear.

As I was reading people's thoughts, the phrase that kept being said over and over was "I can't even wrap my head around this," or "I can't comprehend what just happened." I said that same thing. My mind simply can't fathom what just happened. Well, maybe we can't comprehend what happened because we aren't supposed to. Maybe this atrocious act of senseless violence isn't something that we were ever meant to endure and/or try to understand. Maybe such evil is not what we were created for, and we hurt because the brokenness of our humanity is obvious on days like these. And maybe, just maybe, we despair, grieve, and react because we know in every ounce of our being that this is not how things should be.

 Everyone reacts and responds differently when something this horrible happens, so I wanted to share a few things that are important to me, in lieu of today's tragedy...
1) Let's not rush into talks about gun control, and tightening laws about weapons. There is a time and place for that, but today is a day we grieve. Today is a day we pause, and stand with those who are in their darkest hour. Today we put agendas and opinions aside, and say, "We are with you." No amount of gun control talks will change the fact the 27 families are in shock and are at the beginning of a very long journey of mourning. Let's not explain away the pain, let's hold it together. Let's talk about gun control tomorrow, and grieve today.

2) As a person of faith, I am struck, in moments like these, with the truth that Christ died for all and that means he died for the shooter as well as those he killed. There is no justification for what the shooter did, but we must recognize that if Christ died for all, then that man is included. It was a disgusting act of violence and evil, but even the most far gone, have a story to tell. Be angry, feel strongly, but don't rule him outside of God's love and grace. We must pray for him and his family, as well.

3) Squeeze your kids a little more tightly today. Let this be a reminder to slow down, and really see your kids. I am guilty of getting easily annoyed with my kids, and reacting instead of pausing, but today I've given them some extra kisses, let Layla do my make-up, and am trying to see each moment as a gift. I encourage you to do the same.

4) I am holding onto the hope that all will be restored one day, and we will no longer have to grieve. I think that's all I know to do when I hear the kind of news I heard today.

The bottom line is this is a sad day, and no one should have endure the kind of pain that so many are facing in this moment.

My thoughts and prayers are with all involved.

A Master's Commission Experience: Prayer Walks

My twenty eight year-old self, looks back on my time in Master's Commission with an array of emotions. I've said this before, and I'll say it again, I do not regret my time there, but I wouldn't go back. The things I've learned, I am grateful for, but I am happy to have created a life outside of Master's Commission.

Hindsight is 20/20, I know, and often times we don't see clearly until we are farther removed from an experience, but as I recall some of the things we were asked to do, I wish I had my last twenties strength at nineteen, to say, "There's no way I'm doing that."

Our schedule's were packed to the brim, without the option to decline an activity without the fear of guilt. There were several things we were asked to do that were wildly uncomfortable to me. Things to which, I should have said no.

Going on "Prayer Walks" was one of those activities.

I'll explain. There were afternoons where we would be broken up into groups of 4-5 and sent into poor and crime filled neighborhoods around Phoenix, and were told to knock on peoples' doors and ask them if they needed prayer for anything. Not much different than any other religious group knocking on your door. I cringed every time I saw "Prayer Walk" on the schedule, knowing what my afternoon would consist of. While some others were fine with knocking on the door of a stranger, I was relieved every time there wasn't an answer. Every group I was ever in would take turns between each group member with who would be doing the talking. I was always very happy not to be the one talking. I guess the whole thing made me squirm a little. I may have physically participated in the "Prayer Walks," but I can't say that it was something I jumped into with both feet mentally, emotionally, or spiritually.

I have had some thoughts swirling in my head about why "prayer walks" brought me so much discomfort, but I posed the question to a facebook group I'm in, in hopes that they could help me articulate better what my hesitancy with them was. Some of the other group members were also in Master's Commission, and I deeply valued their thoughts. The following is what I came up with after chatting with them, and putting my thoughts together.

First and foremost, safety was the hugest issue. Often times the staff members would send us 35-40 minutes away from where we were living, into areas that were unfamiliar, very poor, and considered high risk for crime, to talk to people we had never met, and would likely never speak to again. They never joined us, themselves. I don't know how well thought through these "prayer walks" were, or what the intended outcome was supposed to be, but I felt like it was irresponsible to send us to those places without much support, or without a better long term plan for those communities. I personally never experienced anything traumatic, but I was always on high alert, and hated the anxiety that swelled up in me during our walks. I distinctly remember feeling so relieved when we reached the end of our section of homes, and headed back to the car. I know that sounds horrible, but truly, I couldn't wait to be done.

Beyond the safety issue, I realized I was fighting the feeling that we were invading peoples' lives. Prayer is deeply personal. Most of the time the things that we ask for prayer about are private and very close to home. I felt like it wasn't fair to knock on someone's door and ask them to give us personal information, no matter how well-intended it may have been. Of course someone has the option to open their door or not, but I was very uncomfortable even forcing someone to make that choice. Though I believe that prayer is very powerful, I also believe that cultivating relationships with people first is far more important.  If I am going to ask someone to pray for me, I want follow up, I want questions about how things are going, I want someone to bear my burden with me, and that happens through relationships, or at least some measure of consistency. There is no way we could have done that for these people, so I just felt like a fraud, pretending to care, when I knew there wasn't much I was going to be able to do.

One of my friends who participated in the conversation, and attended Master's as well, summed up this issue for me really well. He said...
"Although I can't say that the Bible would be AGAINST doing those prayer walks, I certainly can't point to a Biblical situation where something like that was normal. It seems that most of the time, especially with Paul, the method was to go to an area, learn the culture, and then start participating in the often public dialogue in order to effectively preach the Gospel, and the growth of the church would start that way in that particular area.

Miracles and prayer and stuff like that usually were secondary focuses, and seemed to be happening in order to lend power and legitimacy to the message itself.

So perhaps the Master's Commission way in doing these prayer walks was focusing on something that is really only secondarily important."
Amen to that. Truly, I couldn't have said it better myself. It seemed to me that the most emphasis was often on the secondary things, like my friend said, and we were skipping the important ground work that needs to be laid in order for us to have the relational currency to even ask to be let into the life of another. These "prayer walks" seemed to be a "get in and get out" type of mission, instead of "let's take this community under our wing, and get to know their needs" type of mission. I believe the latter would have had a more lasting affect. I also believe we could have helped these people with tangible, material items they were desperate for like food, or laundry soap. Not that we never did for people, but consistency was key, and that was lacking. Prayer is important, but looking back, these families needed their basic needs met, not someone just to pray, then leave. Plus with our schedules dictated for us, there wasn't even much opportunity to take the time to do that, often, even if we wanted to. Or at least that was my perspective.

Lastly, I am most angry at myself. I'm angry that I didn't have the inner strength at that point in my life to say "no," even if there would have been consequences. I wish that I would have had more conviction to say that this wasn't something that I was comfortable with. The program was not necessarily set up in a way that you could say no to anything, but I wish I would have anyway. Standing up for myself and what I feel convicted by, is probably one of the best learning experiences I had there- not because I did that well, but because I didn't. I realized the consequences of not taking care of myself, and have been on a journey of doing that for the last 7 1/2 years. Speaking truth to myself is one way to take care of myself, and that is why I write about my time in Master's Commission.

I've realized that building relationships and deeply loving people is what brings about the most healing and change in people. I think these "prayer walks" would have been far more effective in a community that we were actively involved in, not just around for a day. That's the entire point to this post. Relationships matter. Relationships are essential for these type of things, and relationships are what will last.

My stint in Master's Commission took a lot out of me. The decision not to stay for a third year, and start my life with Bobby, was one of the best decisions I/we could have made. I don't have any sort of hate for Master's Commission, for I do believe that the intentions were good, but the best way that I could take of myself at that time, was to start again with an open mind and move forward to a new way of thinking. Without my time there, I wouldn't have had a reason to think differently. I wouldn't know freedom like I know it now. For that, I am strangely grateful.

Thank you to all of the friends who participated in the conversation earlier. Your thoughts helped me put mine together, and made me feel like I have a reason to keep speaking my truth. I'm glad to know you.

God Doesn't Give Us More Than We Can Handle- Really? (fyi Parenthood Spoiler Alert!)

Do you watch "Parenthood?" If you don't, you should, it's worth every minute of your time.

SPOILER ALERT- I TALK ABOUT RECENT EPISODES!

There is a character in the show that is fighting cancer and it's been a main storyline the last few weeks. I can't say enough about how well-acted this show is. You feel like you are in the middle of each character's complexity. Especially this one.

Something a character said, struck me.

In reference to his wife's cancer, Adam, her husband said this to his brother...

"I walked outside and our neighbor said, 'Remember, God won't give you more than you can handle.' Is that supposed to help me watch my wife suffer?"

And I thought, "My question exactly."

That phrase has never sat well with me. If you really play that out, it implies God is the one who is responsible for our suffering- that he orchestrates it. If he gives us the suffering, then he ceases to be loving. Those words mean that God gives us pain and hardships since he can, just because he thinks we can handle it. Some would be rebuttal with, "Well, God is using it to bring Himself glory." My response to that is this... Don't you think that there are other ways He can get glory, than by causing us to suffer? Certainly He is more creative than that. Doesn't that make God so manipulative, so cruel, and so unloving? Do we really and truly think that God WANTS people to have cancer, wants people to go through the pain of divorce, wants women to struggle with infertility, wants us to experience loss? When we say, "God doesn't give you more than you can handle," to me, that's exactly what you're saying- that God wants "this."

Truth is, we can't handle much, and that's precisely why Jesus lived and died.

I realize that when the phrase is said it's meant to be well meaning, and a source of comfort for others or for self, but Adam in Parenthood said it best when he said, "is that supposed to help me watch my wife suffer?" Regardless, of the source or reason of pain, it's still there, and you still have to walk through it. To give pat answers, only diminishes the current suffering or emotion of confusion and pain.

Can comfort be found in the midst of suffering? I believe so. But, I wouldn't want to take comfort in the one who is causing my pain, confusion, or hardship. I want to run to someone who will sit and listen, and won't try to explain away how I feel. I want someone who will help me bear it. 

I carry hope that God is truly that way, and not the author of my suffering.