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4/19/12
4/10/12
{a black hole ate my brain}
Some days, I am feeling super peppy. I feel like I could conquer the world with my mind. Like I ate some magic beans that filled me with joy and thoughts and creativity and scribbles of happiness and newness that the world must know about. Then these beans made me explode and brain vomit creativity and prettiness into the universe. The first stages of this process look like this...
But I think that my beans were stolen, and that an angry and vengeful black hole (who is obviously angry because he is a black hole...duh...his life is sad) came and munched on my creativity. And stole it away, forever gone into the abyss of the universe....nom nom nom.
3/26/12
{enough right now}
Though I am neither poor, nor a widow, today I find something in me resonating with the widow in Luke 21.
As Jesus watches the people whose lives are full, rich, seemingly complete, only offer up part of what has been given to them, only offer a portion of their blessing back to God, he catches a glimpse, from the corner of His eye, of a widow.
Usually, if I am being honest, I would say I more identify with the ones who held on too tightly to their money and possessions. The ones who clenched their fists around their blessings; strangling what was once a life giving quality out of them and twisting them into odd replacements for their worship and devotion.
Usually, if I am being honest, I don't offer back very much of anything that has worth or value to me.
Side by side He sees this widow and the rich, standing, opening their palms to reveal not just coins, but their trust, what they value, whom they love, their worship. Waiting to drop all of this into a treasury in sacrifice to their God. He sees this woman, most likely dressed in modest, worn out clothing. Possibly dusty from her travels, most likely bearing the lines of loss on her face; most likely with a bit of heart ache lingering in her eyes.
Ten weeks may not seem like much to most of you. It may not seem like something that feels like second after second dragging, ticking, trickling on at a snail pace. But the past ten weeks of my life certainly felt like all of that. Jared and I found out we were pregnant at a measly 3 weeks along, and we spent the following weeks alternating between joy and panic. We vacillated between sheer excitement and total fear. We planned, we read, we told people who we wanted to be praying for our little baby, and we waited, ever so impatiently, for our ten week appointment to see and hear that little prune sized baby.
I never understood how attached women got so early in pregnancy, but the minute that baby wasn't on our ultrasound, I felt my heart splinter and the shards of it connect with every mother who has ever miscarried that small life within them. I understood in one instant how there are, quite literally, no words to help someone understand, unless you have been through it. There is nothing to explain, to yourself or anyone else, why it hurts so much, why you're heart breaks so quickly, why you suddenly feel like you failed.
It may not have been a baby to anyone else, but it was a baby to us. It was a person, a life with a heart and a soul. And for just a few short weeks, God let it be mine and Jared's. No matter how small the amount of time you spend with your baby, it matters. It always matters. And although many who have never experienced this can't understand, it is so hard to open your palms and give what feels like your last two coins back to God.
I am the woman with the two coins this time. I am poor in spirit always, but I often forget until something reminds me. I am not sure that I would have been by choice, but here, now, this feels like everything. Trusting enough to be all in, to release my grip on what I thought was mine, it feels like everything.
It isn't much to give, of the blessings I have received. Just an aching heart and an empty womb. But it is enough for right now.
As Jesus watches the people whose lives are full, rich, seemingly complete, only offer up part of what has been given to them, only offer a portion of their blessing back to God, he catches a glimpse, from the corner of His eye, of a widow.
Usually, if I am being honest, I would say I more identify with the ones who held on too tightly to their money and possessions. The ones who clenched their fists around their blessings; strangling what was once a life giving quality out of them and twisting them into odd replacements for their worship and devotion.
Usually, if I am being honest, I don't offer back very much of anything that has worth or value to me.
Side by side He sees this widow and the rich, standing, opening their palms to reveal not just coins, but their trust, what they value, whom they love, their worship. Waiting to drop all of this into a treasury in sacrifice to their God. He sees this woman, most likely dressed in modest, worn out clothing. Possibly dusty from her travels, most likely bearing the lines of loss on her face; most likely with a bit of heart ache lingering in her eyes.
He sees her, and I hope she smiled, even if just a little, as she offered up her two copper coins, next to the many that others around her were heaping in. He sees her and He says:
“Truly I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all of them; for they all out of their surplus put into the offering; but she out of her poverty put in all that she had to live on.”
Ten weeks may not seem like much to most of you. It may not seem like something that feels like second after second dragging, ticking, trickling on at a snail pace. But the past ten weeks of my life certainly felt like all of that. Jared and I found out we were pregnant at a measly 3 weeks along, and we spent the following weeks alternating between joy and panic. We vacillated between sheer excitement and total fear. We planned, we read, we told people who we wanted to be praying for our little baby, and we waited, ever so impatiently, for our ten week appointment to see and hear that little prune sized baby.
I never understood how attached women got so early in pregnancy, but the minute that baby wasn't on our ultrasound, I felt my heart splinter and the shards of it connect with every mother who has ever miscarried that small life within them. I understood in one instant how there are, quite literally, no words to help someone understand, unless you have been through it. There is nothing to explain, to yourself or anyone else, why it hurts so much, why you're heart breaks so quickly, why you suddenly feel like you failed.
It may not have been a baby to anyone else, but it was a baby to us. It was a person, a life with a heart and a soul. And for just a few short weeks, God let it be mine and Jared's. No matter how small the amount of time you spend with your baby, it matters. It always matters. And although many who have never experienced this can't understand, it is so hard to open your palms and give what feels like your last two coins back to God.
I am the woman with the two coins this time. I am poor in spirit always, but I often forget until something reminds me. I am not sure that I would have been by choice, but here, now, this feels like everything. Trusting enough to be all in, to release my grip on what I thought was mine, it feels like everything.
It isn't much to give, of the blessings I have received. Just an aching heart and an empty womb. But it is enough for right now.
1/30/12
{lessons}
I am finding, these days, that 9 times out of 10, if I am not at peace with someone else's decision
it is usually because, deep down, I am not at peace with my own.
I question based on them, rather than based on God.
I am finding, these days, that conflict as an adult is inevitable because we are all uniquely created and flawed. Getting along isn't the goal, but peacefulness and assuredness is.
Peace and assuredness in our likeness as children of God,
the understanding that we are different and yet necessary for the whole portrait of God's family.
I am finding, these days, that to hear God, you must understand that just because a Christians says it, doesn't make it true. Wise counsel is pertinent, yes, but not more so than the Bible or the seeking/asking of the Holy Spirit to move. Or to speak. These, in stillness, are the places God resides.
The three must be intertwined.
Feelings are deceptive.
Only God knows your heart.
I am finding, these days, that imagination is necessary to help people see the story of God. Not simply where it is now, but where it is going. That we must exist between the resurrection and the vision of things to come in a messy world. That imagination and art help us go deeper, understand things that cannot be spoken, and see God's heart in ways that cannot be summed up in theology.
Yes, imagination and art are crucial to our faith.
Whether we dream them up or experience what others have dreamed up.
1/25/12
1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?
Went to Cancun. Planned a whole retreat for high schoolers.
Went to Cancun. Planned a whole retreat for high schoolers.
2.Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I have no idea what I resolved to do last year. This year? Slow down, enjoy. Live more simply in the way I spend my time and money by staying on the budget, using my calendar.
I have no idea what I resolved to do last year. This year? Slow down, enjoy. Live more simply in the way I spend my time and money by staying on the budget, using my calendar.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
yes, beautiful.
yes, beautiful.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
My great grandmother.
My great grandmother.
5. What countries did you visit?
Mexico
Mexico
6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
Peace in chaos. More time spent on relationships, less on the excess.
Peace in chaos. More time spent on relationships, less on the excess.
7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
January 27-31: First real vacation in adulthood
January 27-31: First real vacation in adulthood
February 11-13: First retreat planned and executed flying solo
March 5: Tessa passed
April 4-8: Inner City Indy Mission trip...revolutionizing
April 26: William Fitzsimmons concert, perfect night.
July 22: first photography faceplant.
September 14-15: Chi-town to see Brosious with some good friends.
October 3-6: Funfetti
November 4: civil wars
December 14: I turned 25...
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Hmm...not so sure about that one. But I did learn a few invaluable lessons, so maybe gaining wisdom? I dealt healthily with anxiety and conflict for the first time. I learned the importance of growing in your weakness and trusting in God to be sufficient in them. I think that my mind has become more open rather than closed...so that is good. I have learned to see the flaws of the church and love and live in it despite and even when it is hard. I have begun learning to appreciate what makes me who I am and to live fully alive in that.
Hmm...not so sure about that one. But I did learn a few invaluable lessons, so maybe gaining wisdom? I dealt healthily with anxiety and conflict for the first time. I learned the importance of growing in your weakness and trusting in God to be sufficient in them. I think that my mind has become more open rather than closed...so that is good. I have learned to see the flaws of the church and love and live in it despite and even when it is hard. I have begun learning to appreciate what makes me who I am and to live fully alive in that.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Neglecting the important relationships in my life, but mostly my relationship with Jared. Putting it last on my priorities.
Neglecting the important relationships in my life, but mostly my relationship with Jared. Putting it last on my priorities.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I am always sick. And apparently I had a fake\not fake illness for a few months. ??
I am always sick. And apparently I had a fake\not fake illness for a few months. ??
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Tickets to see William Fitzsimmons
Tickets to see William Fitzsimmons
12. Where did most of your money go?
loans, house payment.
loans, house payment.
13. What did you get really excited about?
Going to Cancun/Visiting the Keystone for Jared's 25 birthday celebration
Going to Cancun/Visiting the Keystone for Jared's 25 birthday celebration
14. What song will always remind you of 2011?
Death in it's Grave - John Mark McMillan Beautiful Girl // If you would come back home - William Fitzsimmons
Death in it's Grave - John Mark McMillan Beautiful Girl // If you would come back home - William Fitzsimmons
15. Compared to this time last year, are you:
– happier or sadder? Happier. – thinner or fatter? Same. – richer or poorer? Same.
– happier or sadder? Happier. – thinner or fatter? Same. – richer or poorer? Same.
16. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Intentional time with my husband, and time in peace to worship.
Intentional time with my husband, and time in peace to worship.
17. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Facebooking and watching TV
Facebooking and watching TV
18. How did you spend Christmas?
We spent it at home this year, with just my mom and brother. It was quiet but NOT uneventful!
We spent it at home this year, with just my mom and brother. It was quiet but NOT uneventful!
19. What was your favorite TV program?
Parenthood, Psych, How I Met Your Mother
Parenthood, Psych, How I Met Your Mother
20. What were your favorite books of the year?
Covenant and Kingdom ( ), Bittersweet/Cold Tangerines ( Shauna Neiquist).
Covenant and Kingdom ( ), Bittersweet/Cold Tangerines ( Shauna Neiquist).
21. What was your favorite music from this year?
William Fitzsimmons, Black Keys, Civil Wars, Phoenix, Jimmy Eat World, Mumford and Sons, Hillsong
William Fitzsimmons, Black Keys, Civil Wars, Phoenix, Jimmy Eat World, Mumford and Sons, Hillsong
22. What were your favorite films of the year?
hmmm did I see any new movies this year? True Grit maybe?
hmmm did I see any new movies this year? True Grit maybe?
23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Went out to dinner several times with good friends. I turned 25.
Went out to dinner several times with good friends. I turned 25.
24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Not worrying so much about things and not letting what other people think determine what I think.
Not worrying so much about things and not letting what other people think determine what I think.
25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
hipster/artsy/casual
hipster/artsy/casual
26. What kept you sane?
Good TV, good conversations with friends and mentors, and a sane husband. Oh, and my pups.
Good TV, good conversations with friends and mentors, and a sane husband. Oh, and my pups.
27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.
You can't ever really quit learning.
You can't ever really quit learning.
1/12/12
{bitter and sweet can exist simultaneously}
Dear future me,
You are currently about to enter another time known as a learning experience. It may begin to feel like an anxiety attack, a period of darkness and question. It may feel like stretching, like joy and excitement at open possibilities. It might sometimes feel like insecurity and doubt; confusion sometimes accompanied by answers, sometimes maybe not.
The point is, you have two choices.
You can choose to float around being all half-hearted and unintentional. You can choose to be a victim of circumstance, you can choose to be lazy and selfish and think of how much this hurts or how hard it is. You can close your front door and never leave your living room. While you practice the art of comparison, you can belittle yourself for absolutely no sound reason. You can sit your little tush down and choose to watch your life and opportunity pass you by and proceed to make bitter or sad comments as you live in what might have been.
You can keep looking at the picture of the life you have always thought would be and hold onto it for dear life, but you might someday be only left with that picture. You can choose to suffocate.
Or.
You can turn and face it intentionally. You can open up your mind and your spirit to growth. You can listen well and speak little. You can believe that you are not defined by your circumstance, but by what you do in that circumstance. You can seek wisdom in this time of change and accept what you can and cannot do. You can open up your heart to the hope you have that life is a journey and what makes it exciting is the not knowing what, but always knowing the who. You can be grateful each day for what you are, where you are coming from and the people you have around you. You can experience life authentically and fully and invite the bumps and confusion in as companions of coming to know yourself and your God more. And with intention you can choose to let this be a teachable moment that you cherish and remember, that you gain wisdom and truth from, that shapes you into a better woman and refines you in a way only this circumstance can.
You can let that picture you have been holding onto so tightly float to the ground. You can let it morph or change like a hologram. You can quit painting pictures, actually. You can choose to live.
So, as you approach the end of something, let it be known to yourself, it could also be the beginning of something else just as great, if not more so. Let it be life giving change, not a ticket to suffocation and stagnancy. We all know how well that (didn't) work out last time. And don't forget to remind yourself that you are worth more than that, whatever low bar of worth you are measuring yourself by, throw it out, because it is bigger than that. Worth is so much more than what you go through, and the journey is the best part.
You have two choices...
love,
former self.
You are currently about to enter another time known as a learning experience. It may begin to feel like an anxiety attack, a period of darkness and question. It may feel like stretching, like joy and excitement at open possibilities. It might sometimes feel like insecurity and doubt; confusion sometimes accompanied by answers, sometimes maybe not.
The point is, you have two choices.
You can choose to float around being all half-hearted and unintentional. You can choose to be a victim of circumstance, you can choose to be lazy and selfish and think of how much this hurts or how hard it is. You can close your front door and never leave your living room. While you practice the art of comparison, you can belittle yourself for absolutely no sound reason. You can sit your little tush down and choose to watch your life and opportunity pass you by and proceed to make bitter or sad comments as you live in what might have been.
You can keep looking at the picture of the life you have always thought would be and hold onto it for dear life, but you might someday be only left with that picture. You can choose to suffocate.
Or.
You can turn and face it intentionally. You can open up your mind and your spirit to growth. You can listen well and speak little. You can believe that you are not defined by your circumstance, but by what you do in that circumstance. You can seek wisdom in this time of change and accept what you can and cannot do. You can open up your heart to the hope you have that life is a journey and what makes it exciting is the not knowing what, but always knowing the who. You can be grateful each day for what you are, where you are coming from and the people you have around you. You can experience life authentically and fully and invite the bumps and confusion in as companions of coming to know yourself and your God more. And with intention you can choose to let this be a teachable moment that you cherish and remember, that you gain wisdom and truth from, that shapes you into a better woman and refines you in a way only this circumstance can.
You can let that picture you have been holding onto so tightly float to the ground. You can let it morph or change like a hologram. You can quit painting pictures, actually. You can choose to live.
So, as you approach the end of something, let it be known to yourself, it could also be the beginning of something else just as great, if not more so. Let it be life giving change, not a ticket to suffocation and stagnancy. We all know how well that (didn't) work out last time. And don't forget to remind yourself that you are worth more than that, whatever low bar of worth you are measuring yourself by, throw it out, because it is bigger than that. Worth is so much more than what you go through, and the journey is the best part.
You have two choices...
love,
former self.
1/4/12
{it's ok}
I spent most of my morning the other day crying on the couch. It was actually a cry of relief. The kind of cry you have when that loved one who was in a perilous situation made it out ok, and maybe even better than before. That near death moment that you escape last second and unscathed (for the most part) kind of cry. I realized both are true, because I feel like I have spent three years watching my spirit die, my soul shrivel up, and my life fade from being any sort of promising kingdom changer. And yesterday, I saw all three escape in the nick of time. Mostly unscathed, somewhat ragged and leaving me asking myself how I got here.
In the midst of a season of longing for answers, seeking clarity, and almost resorting to talking to myself in the mirror in hopes that it is another person and they will respond in the deafening silence, I am beginning to see it's ok.
Clarity and knowing can steal the joy from life. And in the gap where joy and peace should reside we fill it with other thing to define ourselves by. In the longest of silences, I have never shut up enough to actually listen. But clarity isn't the point. Clarity isn't the journey, it isn't the adventure, not the story I have been invited to be a part of. Knowing only means I know, but it cannot complete me in any way.
Something about 24-25 opens and closes so many of the doors I imagine in the hallways of my mind. The insecurities of adolescence seem to drift away, distant and foreign, but are replaced by the insecurity of definition. When you're 18 it seems who you are becoming is an adventure full of joy and discovery. As you grow older, the pressure builds to have an answer, to define yourself by what you do and who you know. To define yourself by success in numbers, knowledge and direction. Discovering the world around you is no longer a journey, but a daunting task to complete that is full of haunting insecurities and is like chasing the light. You'll never arrive.
It's ok.
In some ways, my desperate attempts to figure it all out has made me whore myself out to every cause, Biblical teaching, mission organization, job possibility, creative idea, and new fad that has popped into my range of vision. I find myself grabbing at anything and everything that promises definition, security and fulfillment. I pride myself in things that, in my pathetic definition of adulthood, make me look smart, put together and wedge myself right into that dark little place of allowing everyone, everything, and every word shake, shatter and re-define me. In all of this; in opening every beckoning door, in seeking to define myself standing alone and strong, I have never been more weak.
I have collected definitions for myself, like a creepy hoarder, stealing and hiding thing after thing, job after job, word after word, friend after friend to tell me who I am. Tell me where I should be. I keep yelling at God to shut up but stay close. That I don't believe Him but I can't let Him leave. I keep asking for what I want, but never acknowledging that I actually have NO idea what I want, or what I even need.
And so I cried yesterday, because after months of building bitterness as walls around my crumbling spirit. After spending months holding it together, trucking through life, snapping at everyone, and freaking out internally on a regular basis like a spaz, I froze.
I shut up.
I quit running.
I gave up.
I quit trying so hard.
I gave up trying to figure all this stupid annoying stuff out.
I gave up asking. Wanting, dying in the worst way I can.
I shut up and said, I can't. Not anymore. I just. Can't. Do. It.
I just don't care about any of this anymore...I just don't. And I can't make myself...
I froze for a second of time and said out loud: "God. I can't do this. I am pressing the reset button. Can we start over?" I know i can't erase what has lead me here, but I can clear the battle field. Of the things that are strewn across it, I can take out the parts that don't mean anything, that draw my attention, that subtract instead of add. And I can be renewed. Isn't that what starting over is? It is never forgetting, just clearing the battle field. It is re-starting, re-kindling.
And I cried because of this...words that are drawing me back in with the wonder, the beginning when I first stepped out into all of this. Gently, freely and refreshingly.
I was never dying, I was changing. I know it isn't over, I am not foolish enough to think this is the end. I am not foolish enough to believe I will understand, or gain some ounce of knowledge. I am not foolish enough to believe that this is all gone, solved in one small moment. But I am just foolish enough to believe things are changing, that God is beckoning me, and maybe just maybe He is inviting me back in a new way, a way that celebrates instead of despises me. I am just foolish enough to believe that...
it's ok.
In the midst of a season of longing for answers, seeking clarity, and almost resorting to talking to myself in the mirror in hopes that it is another person and they will respond in the deafening silence, I am beginning to see it's ok.
Clarity and knowing can steal the joy from life. And in the gap where joy and peace should reside we fill it with other thing to define ourselves by. In the longest of silences, I have never shut up enough to actually listen. But clarity isn't the point. Clarity isn't the journey, it isn't the adventure, not the story I have been invited to be a part of. Knowing only means I know, but it cannot complete me in any way.
Something about 24-25 opens and closes so many of the doors I imagine in the hallways of my mind. The insecurities of adolescence seem to drift away, distant and foreign, but are replaced by the insecurity of definition. When you're 18 it seems who you are becoming is an adventure full of joy and discovery. As you grow older, the pressure builds to have an answer, to define yourself by what you do and who you know. To define yourself by success in numbers, knowledge and direction. Discovering the world around you is no longer a journey, but a daunting task to complete that is full of haunting insecurities and is like chasing the light. You'll never arrive.
It's ok.
In some ways, my desperate attempts to figure it all out has made me whore myself out to every cause, Biblical teaching, mission organization, job possibility, creative idea, and new fad that has popped into my range of vision. I find myself grabbing at anything and everything that promises definition, security and fulfillment. I pride myself in things that, in my pathetic definition of adulthood, make me look smart, put together and wedge myself right into that dark little place of allowing everyone, everything, and every word shake, shatter and re-define me. In all of this; in opening every beckoning door, in seeking to define myself standing alone and strong, I have never been more weak.
I have collected definitions for myself, like a creepy hoarder, stealing and hiding thing after thing, job after job, word after word, friend after friend to tell me who I am. Tell me where I should be. I keep yelling at God to shut up but stay close. That I don't believe Him but I can't let Him leave. I keep asking for what I want, but never acknowledging that I actually have NO idea what I want, or what I even need.
And so I cried yesterday, because after months of building bitterness as walls around my crumbling spirit. After spending months holding it together, trucking through life, snapping at everyone, and freaking out internally on a regular basis like a spaz, I froze.
I shut up.
I quit running.
I gave up.
I quit trying so hard.
I gave up trying to figure all this stupid annoying stuff out.
I gave up asking. Wanting, dying in the worst way I can.
I shut up and said, I can't. Not anymore. I just. Can't. Do. It.
I just don't care about any of this anymore...I just don't. And I can't make myself...
I froze for a second of time and said out loud: "God. I can't do this. I am pressing the reset button. Can we start over?" I know i can't erase what has lead me here, but I can clear the battle field. Of the things that are strewn across it, I can take out the parts that don't mean anything, that draw my attention, that subtract instead of add. And I can be renewed. Isn't that what starting over is? It is never forgetting, just clearing the battle field. It is re-starting, re-kindling.
And I cried because of this...words that are drawing me back in with the wonder, the beginning when I first stepped out into all of this. Gently, freely and refreshingly.
I was never dying, I was changing. I know it isn't over, I am not foolish enough to think this is the end. I am not foolish enough to believe I will understand, or gain some ounce of knowledge. I am not foolish enough to believe that this is all gone, solved in one small moment. But I am just foolish enough to believe things are changing, that God is beckoning me, and maybe just maybe He is inviting me back in a new way, a way that celebrates instead of despises me. I am just foolish enough to believe that...
it's ok.
"I am the Lord your God...
I go before you now.
I stand beside you,
I'm all around you.
Though you feel I'm far away
I am closer than your breath
I am with you more than you know.
I am the Lord your peace,
No evil will conquer you
So steady now your heart,
come into my rest.
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