Living Life Backward

As I think about my purpose, and who I am, and all of those other deep, philosophical and existential questions, I wonder if I am living my life backward?

People discuss the awkwardness of the middle school years, and trying to be popular and figure out identity, and I think that I knew more about who I was then, than I do now!

I was much more sure of my abilities, and not trying to prove anything to anyone back then.

But now. . .

Now as I approach the threshold of the next decade, I am less sure of my abilities, and more aware that I might need to prove my purpose. 

Insecurities rise quickly, pushing doubt to the front of the line.  As I make my way into new spaces, I wonder if I will ever fit in?  Am I too different? 

I know there are things to be done, fears to be dealt with.  I don't know if I will be able to overcome those fears, but I cannot let them block the path moving forward either.  I have to walk side by side with fear, keeping pace, learning to understand why it is here.  Knowing that with understanding, the fear is less powerful and I am more.  I grow in wisdom, knowledge, strength and courage.

Ready or not, middle school here I come!

Buried

 

Buried

Beneath the calm and the organized

Digging

The way to get others to the daylight

Digging

Deeper into the darkness

Pushing

Travelers one by one into the light

Waiting

For the hand to reach back and lift me

Waiting

For the voice to notice that I am

Buried

Wide Open Spaces

There is just something about them.

Those areas where you can actually see the horizon stretching out in front of you. 
Where the dark vault of the heavens stretches into space.
Where  the sun pauses before it gets tucked under the blanket of the starry night sky.  
Where you can almost see the edge of your existence. 

The Anthem of Springtime

Morning arrives and the dew gathers on the pale, green grass.

Though the chill hangs on to the early hours, and jackets are required for the bus stop, the day begins warmer than it has for the past few months.

School days seem a bit longer as the warmth of the mid morning sun calls one and all to the grassy playground.

Math and reading and science seem less interesting than the swings, or kickball, or anything that lies beyond that large pane of glass...

Where Do I Begin?

I don't remember many exact details of my childhood.

The memories are more sensory pictures with faded edges, dapples of sunlight on the dark, cool grass, and sounds of breezes rustling the leaves, crickets chirping, and stones popping off of automobile tires as they travel past the yard and on down the dirt road, the scent of dark Spring dirt or fresh mown hay from the field behind the house, and the taste of Summer sun warmed tomatoes and green peas right from the garden.
 
These pictures are a compilation of memories, of  Summers blended together in the colorful glass mixing bowl that Grandma kept in her cupboard.  They taste of dust and fresh mown hay, of bacon and tomato sandwiches, macaroni salad and niffles (yes they are a thing) and lettuce with a simple vinegar and sugar dressing.

They travel in a metal picinic basket with a plaid design, to a field where Grandpa is mowing, or plowing, or raking. They run down the dirt road to a wooded spot where the daffodils grow near a small brook.

They play in the tent made of blankets, hung over the clothes line in the back yard.  They sleep under the stars, waking to a dew soaked morning that smells fresh and damp at the same time. 

This is a part of where I begin.  

Glimpses

I sometimes catch glimpses of a life more fulfilled. 

A place where a difference is made, help is given, abilities are used to their fullest, and joy abounds.  

I suppose that place can be anywhere, if I see each day with its own purpose.  

Each day with its own opportunities.  

Each day with its own needs and design.  

Open my eyes...

Words Enough

Are there words enough to share with others

Words enough to keep to myself

Are there words enough to teach my children

Words enough to stack on a shelf

There are words that fly so fast and so furious

Words that rise and fall

Words that are so full of questions and curious

Words that can feel so small

Are there words enough to hold us together

Words that don't tear apart

Are there words enough to make us each better

What is the place we should start

I Am More Than My Job Title

I didn't create the job title.

I applied for it, and I got the job.

Now, how do I move beyond it?

If a hiring manager looks at the job title, will they dismiss me based on the apparent size of the jump I need to make in order to reach their posting?  Will I lose out on an opportunity I am more than qualified for, simply because my title is seemingly small in stature and responsibility?

I have read in other places, about the skills acquired simply from being a parent:  organizational skills, scheduling, menu planning, budgeting, negotiation, diplomacy, counseling, to name a few.  But can you really include those on a resume?

If I haven't managed people in an office setting, but have managed people in a household, does that mean I have mangerial experience?

If I have listened to different sides of an argument or discussion, and tried to help both sides come to an agreement, do I have negotiation skills?

If I have looked at a week's schedule, knowing transportation is limited, as is time, and figured out how to get people to various places, does that count as scheduling experience?

These are just some things I have been thinking about recently.  As I try to find my way in the working world, to support my family and gain a little ground in this race, I understand it is not about notoriety or wealth.  But I want to do my best to keep learning, find new adventures, and most of all, love my family.

Vote for God?

I saw this on a church sign recently...

"Not happy with the candidates?  Vote for God!"

I get the idea behind the statement, and that some churches feel the need to have catchy sayings to attract people's attention, but something about this just doesn't sit well with me.

If you know God, you know He doesn't need our vote.  He doesn't want our vote.  He wants us.  He wants our heart, mind, soul and strength.

Luke 10:27

And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.”

God's future doesn't depend on whether or not we choose Him.  Our future depends on whether or not we follow Him.  This doesn't imply getting a bumper sticker, going to church meetings, and contributing financially is what it means to follow Him.

It goes way beyond that, and yet not...

Love.  If we love Him, we will obey Him.  If we love Him, we will serve Him.  If we love Him, we will follow Him.  Without fanfare or recognition, but with humility and kindness. And if we love Him, we will love others... And they will know we are His disciples by our...

Love

Heaven help us. . .

As we continue in this direction

As we wait on solutions for greed and pride

As we listen to words spoken, promises made and promises broken

Heaven help us

As we look for the answers, but not quite high enough

As we talk through the problems that seem too insurmountable

As we hope for justice and truth to come forward

Heaven help us

Help us lift our eyes

Help us speak Your words

Help us trust and see that You know

That You are

I AM

Help us

For the Invisible Ones

The pull of wanting to be seen

And yet wanting to blend in

The struggle of walking outside with a smile

Or staying in your room with a book or paintbrush or pen

The reality that life is to be lived and experienced

Paired with the reality that life can be scary and lonely

Looking at those traveling the same path

Wondering if anyone else struggles with

The pull of wanting to be seen

And yet wanting to blend in

The Beginning of Lent

Today is Ash Wednesday.

On the church calendar, this marks the beginning of Lent.  A season to prepare our hearts for the coming remembrance of the death of Christ, and the celebration of His resurrection.  For some it can be time to give up certain things - perhaps to join in the suffering of Christ by sacrificing some habit or item that we hold perhaps, a little too closely. 

Chocolate
Certain TV shows
Certain language
Soft drinks
Red meat

You get the idea.

Are these really sacrifices?  Or are they ways we make ourselves feel like we are contributing something, you know, "doing our part" to remember...

Jesus knew what was coming.  He went in to Jerusalem the week before His death, knowing the pain, suffering and sacrifice He would endure.  And He still went. 

For us.

To pay a debt we could not pay.

To conquer something we could not even begin to fight.

“Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man attested to you by God with mighty works and wonders and signs that God did through him in your midst, as you yourselves know— this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men. God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it."
Acts 2:21-24

I Believe

There is so much going on right now, my mind is in a fog.  As I dropped one of the girls off at youth group tonight, the CD that was in the car started playing a song that I love.  Andrew Peterson's "The Good Confession". 

It tells the story of a young boy who heard the call and was baptized.  As he took his preacher father's hand, he was asked to "say the words" - words I learned as a child growing up in the Lutheran church.  Words we memorized early on, and recited over and over.  Words that are meant to be something more than just words.

The words hit me tonight, with things happening, where is my trust?  Where does my faith stand?  How deep does my belief go, and what do I believe?  Do I believe that I truly am saved through faith in Jesus Christ, that His death on the cross was the sacrifice required by God the Father, and willingly given for me?  That there is nothing I need to do to earn this salvation, except to confess my sins, accept His grace and gift, and believe that He is the Son of God. 

How then shall I live?

Purpose

It is a small word with big implications.

Purpose

What is it?
What is mine?

When I think of purpose, I think about meanings.  What is the meaning of my life here?  Where will I find meaning?  What does this meaning look like, feel like?  Will I know when I find it?

Then I think about the "bigger than me" picture.  My purpose shouldn't be about me and what I can accomplish in this life.  It should be about others and what I can do to help make a difference for them.  This life isn't about me.  I was put here for a reason, a purpose, yes, but the focus of that purpose should be so much more than my little bubble of existence.

So I continue on this journey. . .

The Day Begins

I wake to a quiet house
Sounds of cars outside heading down the street
I begin my morning Summer routine
Preparing my lunch
Making coffee
Getting myself ready for work
All in the quiet

Thoughts of gratitude
For the people who sleep
For the quiet that surrounds
For the provision of all of these

Thoughts of the day ahead
Of tasks to tackle
Of lists to complete
Of time on the clock moving constantly forward

I step out of the quiet house
On to the porch near the street
Making my way to the car
Making my way to the office
Getting myself ready for work

The day begins...

Grace, Mercy and Influence

Grace - the free and unmerited favor of God, as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings - OxfordDictionaries

Mercy - compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm  - OxfordDictionaries

Influence - the capacity to have an effect on the character, development, or behavior of someone or something, or the effect itself - OxfordDictionaries

These are some of the words running through my brain this morning.   There are circumstances all around us - any of us - at any given time or day, that require us to consider each of these things.  What or who influences us, and what influence might we carry?  Where are people or places in time where I need to offer, or ask for mercy?  How do I accept the grace given to me, and extend that to others?

Consider these things for yourself. 

Where has grace been extended to you?  Here is a touching example...

Is there a situation where mercy is required of you?  A person that needs forgiveness?  Is there a place where you need to humbly request mercy from another?

Do you have an influence on those you come in contact with?  If so, how are you using that influence?  Do you recognize it as a sacred thing, or is it a tool to accomplish a goal?  Is your influence leading others in the right direction?  (Hint: it shouldn't lead to you...)  Are you following the right influences? (Hint:  Where are they leading you?)

These are all things I am pondering, reviewing and praying about.  There are so many places that aim to grab our attention... 

Pay attention.

A Letter - On Brokenness

Dear you,

Since it isn't possible right now, for all of us to sit around the same table and sip coffee and talk about the things that are going on in our lives, I wanted to invite you to this space, this common space, to let you in on some of the things I have been thinking about. We  have been through a lot in this span of life we have lived.  We have traveled many different roads, most with ruts, bumps and the occasional detour.

Let me be the first to say that I am broken.  WE are broken.  None of us has all of the answers, none of us is perfect.  If we pretend we are fine, that nothing is wrong...well, that just proves how broken we really are.  Sometimes pride or fear keeps us from owning those cracks.  Sometimes we don't realize that we are broken, because brokenness is all we have known. 

Our faults are not to be worn as a badge of courage, a banner to wave when we feel slighted, insignificant or hurt.  Our faults need to be admitted, recognized and called out for what they are.  But we also need to recognize that when others present their faults to us, they are to be handled with care, mercy and grace.  If there is correction needed, then correction must be given and accepted in love.  If there is reconciliation needed, then it also must be attempted and if possible, accepted. **I do believe that if any party is not in the right place, then attempts for correction and reconciliation can be more damaging and hurtful.**

We are works in progress.  We will not see the final result of our striving this side of eternity.  But that doesn't mean we should sit back and accept where we are.  We press on and move forward.  We can try under our own strength and will, but that won't last long.  We will get exhausted. 

There is One who has already done the work.  Some of us may know this.  We need to remember to go to Him with our faults.  This One has carried all of our faults to a hill.  There they were all carried on His back, nailed to His cross, and the payment was made in full.  Payment for what?  For this thing called sin.  Sin separates us from the Most High, El Elyon, Jehovah, I AM.  He is holy, righteous and just.  He cannot tolerate sin.  So for we who are born sinful, with faults, what does that mean? What do we need to do?  We look to Jesus, ask forgiveness for our wrongdoings, accept His wonderful, extravagant gift!  The gift that God's Son took our faults, our brokenness, our sin upon Himself, paid the ultimate, horrendous price that was for us, and did it willingly so we could be set free. 

Do you know Him?  If you do, thank Him for His grace, mercy and love.  Go to Him with your struggles and ask Him for direction.

If you don't know Him, please call out to Him.  Go to Him with your struggles and ask Him for direction.  Tell Him of your sin (confess) with a contrite heart.  Ask Him to forgive your sins - by believing they were nailed to the cross when Jesus was crucified.  Accept His grace and mercy through Jesus.  Follow Him.  Love Him.  Praise Him!

With Insufficient Gratitude

As we approach Good Friday, humility overwhelms when I think about the awful torture, pain, suffering and death that Jesus took upon Himself, willingly, that we, I might have the opportunity to share in a banquet with Him, the Father and Holy Spirit. 

We know that this doesn't end on Friday. 

Sunday waits just beyond, with the promise and hope of a future - an eternal future - so bright and full of joy, we cannot imagine!  So it is with insufficient gratitude that I offer a quiet prayer of thanksgiving, knowing that He hears me, and knows me, and still loves me in spite of who I am, or what I have done or will do...

Introduction to My Story - Until I Can Come Up With a Better Title

 

About five years ago I wrote out my story out and shared it with the ladies' church group, and have also shared it more recently, in the adult Sunday School class.  On both occasions, people commented on my writing, some saying I should write a book - to which I said  (in my head) yeah, right. . . and then. . . hmm, should I?

While I really don't know about writing a book, the idea appeals to me.  I really don't know if I have enough content to write an entire book, but I thought I would begin to write out some thoughts on different topics that relate to me and my life thus far.  Thoughts on growing up, my faith, parenting, and creativity, just for starters.

I can't say for sure how often I will add to these thoughts, but my goal is to share once a week, even if it is just a few quick sentences.  So next week we will begin. . .

Looking for Home

 

Is it possible to feel lost even though you know where you are?

Is it possible to forget where home is, even though you know where you live?

It might be losing your place, or it might be losing your connection to a place.

I was trying to work on a canvas, and I had an idea:  the house that memory built.  It was going to be a mixed media piece, so I began laying out different papers and words to help the process.

I completed covering the canvas with papers, and then. . .
And then. . .
And then. . .

I drew a blank.  I didn't know what to do next.  I had been drawing on ideas from my memory, patterns that reminded me of my grandma's house, the wallpaper in her living room, or dining room.  I had pieces of map from the state I grew up in, I had a solid start.  But I didn't know what house to add to the painting.  Do I add my Grandma's farm and the house I grew up in? 

As I tried to determine what to do, I realized I have no connection to those places anymore.  I haven't been home for a couple of years.  Grandma has been gone even longer.  Different happenings in the family created a break in my connection.  I had to step away from the canvas for a time. 

I still talk with my parents.  That connection is fully intact.  There is no issue there.  But the physical location has lost its pull.  I am living in a different state, but this doesn't feel like home either. 

My creativity seems to be at a standstill.  I seem to be able to start ideas, paintings, writings, but I don't get very far before I run out of process, thoughts, ideas.  All I see before me is a wall. 

I have set that piece aside for a time.  I think that I still have some processing to do, but I should process while I work on it.  I think I need to push through that wall to see what is on the other side.  There is the house that lives in my memory, and the house that my memory built, but there needs to be a home that lives where I am today, a house that holds my memories.  That is the house I need to work on.