Say something

“For those willing to keep heaving themselves toward the light, things can change. What has been lost gradually becomes less important than what is to be found. Curiosity pokes its green head up through the asphalt of grief, and fear of the unknown takes on an element of wonder as the disillusioned turn away from the God who was supposed to be in order to seek the God who is." Barbara Brown Taylor, The Preaching Life

For years I fretted over, prayed over, worried over Peanut's lack of friends.

In our home, we value Peanut's uniqueness.

We love her theatrical approach to life. We are amazed by her creative art. We enjoy her avid love of reading. We are confused by, but appreciate, her dedicated passion for a book series, a character, a collection, etc.

In our home, the fact that Peanut is different is celebrated.

Unfortunately, the reality of life is that kids, or grown ups, who are different are not always celebrated in social circles.

While it's always been okay with Peanut if your interests are different than hers, it's not always the case with other kids.

A little over a year ago, we finally found Peanut's tribe.

They all have many interests in common BUT they also have differences.

And they celebrate and appreciate the differences.

They don't all watch the same shows, listen to the same music, or worship in the same denominations.

Interesting isn't it?

That a group of middle school girls can figure out that the character of someone's heart far outweighs any likes or dislikes?

As I sat and watched them yesterday, I was reminded that helping Peanut become a person of character is one of my most important goals.

And we do that by modeling.

And by talking about hard things.

I'm aware that I'm often in group settings where I'm different. Unique you might say . I'm also allergic to small talk and only know how to overshare.

Therefore I tend to choose what I share based on my audience. How close are we? How comfortable am I with you? Have you earned my trust?

Recently I shared something in a setting I thought I was comfortable in. A setting I thought what I shared would be received at minimum with grace.

The person said nothing.

Couldn't even make eye contact with me.

I've been mulling over this.........now, my mama always said "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

I'd wager that there are times when saying nothing is worse than saying something "not nice."

I shared this with Peanut because I think there are times when we say nothing because we don't know what to say.

When someone shares something with us, we don't have to pass judgement. We don't have to offer advice.

We can literally just say "Gosh, that must have been hard FOR YOU." Or "Thanks for sharing that with me."

We can say something.

I shared this with Peanut because as one unique soul to another, we are going to be in rooms where what is on our heart is not going to be the common opinion.

And hopefully we are both spaces where people feel safe to share a thought that may be unpopular. Or maybe just hard for them to share.

I hope we both will find words.

Mama Warriors, navigating friendships and differences is something that has to be taught. And practiced. Just like multiplication facts.

Let's be people who can look others in the eye and appreciate that we don't have to agree but we can be kind.

Let's be people who find words for others.

VHS

"God's will isn't about the things we achieve, it's about the people we become."

There are several things I've found that are a true test of marriage. 

For us, one of them is a yard sale. There's the getting ready for the yard sale (how many tshirts does one person need? is the 1992 Shiloh Generals one REALLY a need?). There's the dragging all your "treasures" onto your yard. Then, there's the sitting in the heat all day haggling with strangers over 50 cents. 

During one such yard sale, I hear an older woman ask me "Which wedding is this?" I'm guessing she thought I'd taped a royal wedding. 

Nope. My wedding. 

My husband heard me say "Let's get rid of all the VHS tapes." 

And so MY WEDDING ended up in my front yard. On sale for 50 cents. 

In sorting boxes this weekend, I uncovered that rescued VHS tape (which has since been converted to a DVD) and had to laugh at the memory (a decade gives you perspective). 

As I'm unearthing all kinds of memories in this Tidying Up adventure, I keep circling back to Matthew 6. 

19 “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

While I want to save a few momentos here and there, I want to make room for the future. 

I want there to be so few THINGS that I don't have to be the keeper of that knowledge. That everyone will now know where things are. Amen mamas? 

Space to breathe. Time to spend with my family rather than constantly battling the mess of our home. 

I feel this way about my spiritual walk too. 

I feel heavy some days from carrying around the past. 

The shoulds. The regrets. The guilt. 

We weren't designed to be so burdened.

We are saved so we can live a life only carrying with us what sparks joy. 

So, as I touch every single item in our house, I've been mentally walking myself through the last few years. The challenges. The struggles. I'm carrying a backpack full of negativity. 

I'm asking myself what of those times do I want to take forward with me?

The guilt of the mother I wasn't when I was too sick to be that person? 

Or the joy in knowing that it made me have compassion for others, and my kids too? 

The should haves in the hard teen years? 

Or the knowledge that I've been authentic and transparent with my kids - I've showed them how to walk the unknown? How to apologize?

I'm setting free boxes of stuff sure. 

But I'm also setting free that which I do not want to take forward. Fear. Guilt. 

Mama Warriors, it's okay to tidy your soul. 

To set it free. 

To re-frame how you remember the challenges. To change your inner self talk. It's important. 

It's a LONG process. 

It's slow. 

But you are worthy of putting that backpack down.

Pressure

 “Faith, for me, isn't an argument, a catechism, a philosophical “proof.” It is instead a lens, a way of experiencing life, and a willingness to act.”

― Sara Miles, Take This Bread: A Radical Conversion

Every 4- 6 months I take Peanut to the orthodontist.

Each time, for the last two years, they've said the same thing.

"Definitely needs braces. But not yet."

This past week we went, and out of habit, I think she and I were both expecting another "not yet" experience.

When instead we learned, "yet" had finally arrived.

Peanut asked the kind employee "Will they hurt?"

A common question I'm sure.

She was truthful in answering "yes, yes it will hurt. But, you will get used to it and in time it will hurt less."

I let Peanut make this choice.

Many people go through life with an overbite and crooked teeth. Not the end of the world.

If you CHOOSE to change this, it will be UNCOMFORTABLE.

I reminded Peanut that she can do hard things BUT she has to want to.

As I sat in the waiting room while the tech put her new braces on, I thought about that question.

"Will it hurt?"

How many times would I have declined something if I had known that in fact, not only yes it would hurt, but it might be the most painful season ever?

My first year of teaching?

Worst year ever at the time. Some definite bright spots, but in general those children, and the admin, ate me alive. I was woefully unprepared for both. Did it hurt? Most definitely.

Marriage?

Goodness the things you promise when you are young and hopeful? Again, I was likely woefully unprepared. I had never experienced marriage done well. No idea what that looked like. Have I experienced emotional hurts in the 24 years? Most definitely.

Parenthood?

Has parenting been unbelievable hard? Has it hurt to give so much and feel like you receive so little? Most definitely.

Religion?

Has developing a relationship with Jesus DESPITE religious folks influence been hard? Most definitely. We are not presenting the gospel in a way that is congruent with "what would Jesus do?" most days in many places.

If I had known how hard all the major things in my life would be, if someone had said "Hey this will be hard" - would I have still chosen them?

The thing about growth is that it's uncomfortable.

We are moving Peanut's teeth and jaw. Shifting it all.

That doesn't happen without a little pressure.

And pressure feels uncomfortable.

Pressure, discomfort, that's a sign of growth.

Each time Peanut complains about how her mouth hurts, we try some of the strategies on the list from the orthodontist and we remind ourself "growth is uncomfortable."

I'm thankful for each of my growing seasons. Teaching, marriage, parenthood, faith - those have all been hard earned, hard fought for, hard seasons.

But they have absolutely been worth it.

I'm a better teacher, wife, mother, and follower of Christ for each of those. For all of those.

Mama Warriors, in order for our kids to grow - they have to be able to be uncomfortable.

We can't follow them around stopping the uncomfortable from happening.

We have to allow the uncomfortable or we stop the growth.

One of the best ways to do this is to model our own uncomfortable growing seasons.

Say out loud "Gosh, this is hard but I can do hard things."

Growth doesn't come without a little pressure.

Blisters

"Drowning means suffocating. And if we choose to stay underwater without kicking our way to the surface, we eventually forget how to swim."

Our Xman started baseball practice with a new team last week. By the end of the second practice, his hands were covered in blisters (that picture is a week of healing - I spared us all the visual of the early days). 

New batting gloves, bad bat tape and a motion he hasn't done in some time created the perfect trio to tear up his hands. 

He hasn't missed a practice. 

See the only way to really heal those hands is to push through. We need the blisters to callus over and for his hands to toughen up. 

You know how you get tough? You keep at it. 

Each day before practice, we cover them in liquid bandage, gauze, and athletic tape. Each night after practice, we slather them in antibiotic ointment and give them air. We prepare as much as we can, but he still swings a bat MANY times every practice. 

"When you know your WHY, you can endure any HOW."

You see - Xman wants to have a great season. He already feels a sense of commitment to these new kids, to this new team. To do his best. To be ready by game one for the competition they will face. 

I've been thinking this week that there are many parallels between his walk and my spiritual walk. 

Growth is frequently painful. 

We are not a people that embrace change. We like the comfort of the familiar. 

Discomfort is often taken as a sign that something is wrong. 

But what if it is a sign that something is RIGHT?

What if in your discomfort you embraced the idea that God is preparing you for the big challenge you will face? 

What if God is roughing you up a bit so you will be stronger? Tougher? So you develop the kind of roots that withstand any storm? 

What if we thought - this is preparing me for what comes next? 

Mama Warriors, growth is inevitable. I vividly remember telling our now 16 year old that I was going to freeze her on her 4th birthday. But yet the birthdays kept rolling.

Growth is evidence of LIFE.

Is He alive in you if you don't see evidence of growth? 

The blisters will hurt for a bit, the discomfort can be staggering. 

"being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6

But the discomfort of today reveals the possibilities of tomorrow.

I made chili the day he died

 "Bring us peace , God,

enough for this quiet moment.

Enough to quiet the questions with no answers.

And, while you're at it, pencil us in for tomorrow, too." Kate Bowler

I made chili the day he died.

I didn't remember that when I made my menu plan for this week.

I didn't remember that as I grocery shopped for the ingredients.

As I dumped the cans of chili beans in the crock pot I remembered.

I made chili the day he died.

I don't know why I remember that miniscule detail of that day.

The minute I dumped that first can I could see the doctor's face, hear my mother's wail, see my siblings arrive one at a time and have to give the news again and again.

I don't know why it came rushing back, along with fresh tears, on Wednesday morning.

In the days, and months, after his death I've learned that grief is overshadowed by the daily living.

There's paperwork to fill out. Decisions to be made. Bills that are due.

The sadness has to come second to all the tasks that have to be done.

I've attended two funerals since his death.

Grief doesn't pause death either it seems.

I'm finding grief acts as a "scratch and reveal" chipping away at things long buried.

Family dynamics. Childhood baggage. Trauma.

Death is like a copper penny scratching away at each one......reminding me of all that is there. To be dealt with.

Or not?

Death reminds me that relationships are complicated.

And causes me to evaluate my current ones.

Emotional me just wants to take chili off the menu.

If I never make chili again, do I have to remember the vivid details of that day?

If I never make chili again, can I take my penny and put it away? No more scratch and reveal?

I'm pretty sure the only way through a hard thing is through.

I haven't unpacked all of this yet.

For now, I made chili the day he died.

Walk in Love

 "While Jesus is, in his own way, just as inscrutable, he is enough like me to convince me that relationship with God is not only possible, but deeply desired by God, who wants me to believe that love is the wide net spread beneath the most dangerous of my days. To believe that is an act of faith - not a one time decision, but a daily and sometimes hourly choice to act as if that were true in spite of all evidence to the contrary." Barbara Brown Taylor

On my mantle amidst my Valentine decorations is a sign that says

"Love is a Verb."

One of my kids calls these my cheesy mom signs.

The thing is that I think while we know love is a verb, we often treat it as a noun.

We think of love as a feeling.

Feelings are fleeting. Feelings are fickle. Feelings are often untrustworthy.

Truthfully I'm always torn on Valentine's day. It's on the list of "Norman Rockwell" failures in my home.

Each year I put hearts on everyone's door to speak truth to them.

Each year I make a personalized card for each person and buy them a favorite treat.

Each year I plan a special family dinner with foods, treats and candles.

No one mentions their hearts. Occasionally there is a "thanks" thrown at me, but not always for the card/treat. Often the dinner is attended by at most 3 of us.

The thing is I anticipate that others will love me in the SAME way I love them.

That doesn't seem fair or practical when you think about it.

If I take an emotional step back, I can see my people loving as a verb in their own way.

SD making "super daddy pancakes" for the Peanut. Xman offering to fix something that is broken. The Princess searching Walmart for the elusive treats I want for my students.

Love is most definitely a verb.

It doesn't survive as a noun.

Over the last few weeks, I keep circling back to the "great commandment."

"Love God. Love others."

As a verb.

I can accept that we all define loving God differently. And that it looks different in action for each of us.

I'm going to confess I'm struggling with how "love others" is looking in action lately.

Are we loving others when we are breeding hate?

We've allowed a climate to be created where what we are "against" is being spoken so much louder than what we may be "for."

Perhaps we need to bring back the WWJD bracelets.

You won't convince me that Jesus doesn't care for the people in the margins. My bible doesn't read that way.

I think we've double downed on our political party and lost the vision of our real king.

I think we've lost sight that we are talking about real people and not policies.

Real people who are losing their jobs. Real people who are losing their homes. Real people who are victims of hate.

Mama Warriors, as we walk this "love day" as one of my kids used to call it, let's take a minute to remember what it means to "walk in love."

As we talk to our kids about current events, let's remember to speak about the PEOPLE affected with kindness and respect regardless of how we feel about the policy.

Let's remember to have compassion for each other.

Let's walk in love.

open Hands

"We can add God's word to our day but it does not expand unless we put it to use."

It's no secret that me and sleep are not close friends. A few weeks ago a sweet friend let me borrow a weighted blanket to see if it's magical. 

I laid down the first night, with all 15 pounds of that blanket on top of me, and basically was miserable. By morning, every single muscle in my body ached. I felt like I had spent the night working out. 

Night two was exactly the same. Night three is when I realized that I spend all night clenched - my hands in fists, my body drawn in, even my jaw is tight all night. With the added weight of the blanket, every time I moved it was uncomfortable. 

Night four I decided I would intentionally try to relax every muscle in my body and just let the blanket keep me secure. 

Turns out if you just relax and lay there - the weight of the blanket can be comforting. 

So I've been thinking about this idea of being closed up, tight, clenched. 

I realized in church in a few weeks ago that when we sing, I close my hands in fists. 

I clearly felt tugged to open my hands. 

Now, I was raised in one of those churches where only the fanatical folks raised their hands and waved them during songs. 

Turns out, those folks know a few things. 

I started out by just opening my hands in my lap. Then opening my hands and raising them. Now, I lift my hands when I sing. 

Because you see, I'm learning that my POSTURE has a lot to do with how I'm approaching God. 

A friend of mine shared recently that she put me and my people on the palm of her hands and she lifted them up to God. 

It made me think - I'm holding me and my people closed up in my fists and asking God to just bless us right where we are. 

I want to physically, spiritually GIVE my all to my Jesus. 

With open hands - reached outward. 

I'm finding, much like with my weighted blanket, when I open up and release it all.....it's so freeing. 

There's grace for all my mistakes. 

There's room for me to grow. 

Mama Warriors, maybe you, like me, are holding tight to all your worries. I encourage you to put just one of those on the palms of your hands and lift them up. Maybe if you aren't ready to be fanatical just yet, shut yourself in your bathroom and give it a go. 

He can't take from you what you are tightly holding on to. 

You have to make space to let Him come in and be where He wants to be. 

Open your hands.......................I think you will find that it will open your heart.