Awesome Wonder

We say a lot of things are awesome. Awesome car. Awesome football game. Awesome book. But do we really mean awesome? Do we even know what that is? We do the same with wonder. The waiter at dinner last night responded "wonderful" to each order we placed and request we made. Was it really wonderful that I ordered tortilla soup? (In his defense, the margarita was, in fact, wonderful.)

Awesome means "extremely impressive or daunting; inspiring great admiration, apprehension or fear."
Wonder means "a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar or inexplicable."

When was the last time you were so impressed by something that it caused apprehension at it's greatness? When were you last surprised by something so beautiful that you paused in admiration? The football game was thrilling, exciting, impressive...but I didn't shake in fear of its greatness. The margarita, even, wasn't so beautiful it surprised me. 

Have you ever, truly, had your breath taken away? Not in a romantic sense. Have you stood honestly, completely speechless? I'm not sure we ever stop long enough to be impressed. I'm not sure we are ever humble enough to admit that maybe there are things we can't explain. I'm afraid we are so used to "the next big thing" that truly big things aren't recognized and respected.

If you have a moment, no matter what you are doing, feeling or believe. Let yourself be in awe for a brief moment...

There is a God so powerful that when He speaks, light appears and universes are formed.
Because He designed it to do so, the earth spins on its axis without fail.
The sun is just the right distance away so as to give nourishment but not scorch the earth. 

He created the expanse of the sky and the tiniest molecules that make up the air we breathe.

You were grown in your mother's womb because her body was first designed with the organs to do so.
There are millions of factors that must line up perfectly to conceive and form a human - it is impossible to do so by coincidence.
A baby breathes liquid for 9 months yet within seconds of birth can inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide.
Your heart beats almost 80 times a minute. It knows to slow or quicken based on stress and temperature level. It beats over 100,000 times per day without you actively knowing or telling it to do so.
Your brain functions not by chance but by intricate design. It processes information equivalent to over 250 mph and generates enough power to light a lightbulb.
There is a God so powerful that you are, right now, breathing, pumping blood and processing information while the earth spins and the sun gives light...and you did nothing to ensure any of it.
There is a God so powerful that seasons change and clouds absorb water and release it.
That same God with the power to create and take life knows you.
He created every cell; He designed every vessel.
That God with the power to create universes also created your ability to feel.
It's awe-inspiring enough that He is big; it's unfathomable that He cares about every tear you cry.
He didn't just create you.
He loves you.
He doesn't just love you, He CHOSE to enter the very world He created to be with you.
He could sit on high and watch you struggle, but He loves you enough to know every detail.
He loves you.
He doesn't just love you, He CHOSE to die so that when you leave earth you get to be with Him.
He loves you.
The God who created the universe loves you.
Can you even wrap your mind around that?

THAT'S awesome. THAT fills me with wonder and apprehension and fear.

O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder

consider all the works thy hand hath made,

I see the stars, I hear the mighty thunder,

thy power throughout the universe displayed:

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God; to thee,

How great thou art, how great thou art!

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God; to thee,

How great thou art, how great thou art!

But when I think that God, his Son not sparing,

sent him to die-I scarce can take it in

that on the cross, our burden gladly bearing,

he bled and died to take away our sin;

When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation

and take me home-what joy shall fi1l my heart!

Then shall I bow in humble adoration,

and there proclaim: My God, how great thou art!

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God; to thee,

How great thou art, how great thou art!

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God; to thee,

How great thou art, how great thou art!

The Difference

The difference is not that that I live in a different state.
The difference is not that Texas is better.
The difference is not that we struggled.
The difference is not that my friendships took on new meaning.
The difference is not that Jesus is more present in one place over another.
The difference is not that there's another baby to love.
The difference is not that my daughter knows more people.

The difference is that I am different.

The difference is that I live where my family is.
The difference is that Texas is mine.
The difference is that we made it through.
The difference is that I've learned what it is to miss friends, so I savor every moment with them.
The difference is that Jesus met me in my darkest place in this place.
The difference is that we prayed and waited for Faith and now she's here lighting up our lives.
The different is that my daughter knows the people who loved her before she was born.

The difference is that I am different.

The difference is that I'm grateful for the time living somewhere else.
The difference is that Texas was my springboard.
The difference is that we can go anywhere if we go together.
The difference is that I don't take for granted one lunch, visit or conversation - with anyone.
The difference is that now Jesus uses me to meet other girls in their dark places.
The difference is that I get to not just see her, but hold, talk to and snuggle with Faith.
The difference is that my daughter loves people differently because I've learned to love differently.

The difference is that because I am different, everything's different.

If things change but you don't change, nothing changes.
If things are different because you are different, nothing will ever be the same.
That's the difference.

One...Two...Breathe....

This weekend's one thing: People are more important.

Brynna is 4, so sometimes she acts like...well, a 4 year old. She can be selfish and loud and completely unreasonable. She doesn't have the capacity to think in terms of the big picture, so she responds to everything as though it were the end of the world. Now that I think about it, maybe Brynna acts just like all of us.

We have a saying to help her with perspective. When she threw a fit last week about not getting the shopping cart she wanted at Target, I pulled her aside and asked, "What's more important?" When she talks back in an attempt to prove she's right, I ask, "What's more important?" When she argues with a friend over whose turn it is, I quietly ask, "What's more important?" Each time I ask, Brynna knows the answer and she responds, "People are more important."

How different would our lives be if we could all answer that question like Brynna and remember it when our allegiances are put to the test! Especially this weekend before Christmas, what can you do to remind yourself and others that people are more important?

Don't let the people get lost in the planning of a party for them.
Don't forget the people you're cooking for when you're overwhelmed in the kitchen.
Don't lose sight of the people you're buying for....they are loved ones not just marks on your To Do list.
Don't miss that all this holiday hustle and bustle is about PEOPLE. A PERSON was born and it changed PEOPLE forever. That's MORE IMPORTANT.

People are more important than decorations or lights. People are more important than presents and wrapping. People are even more important than traditions. Think about that ONE thing for the next TWO days and BREATHE...because all the stuff will get done or it didn't matter than much anyway. People are more important.

A Solution: 6 Alternatives to the Christmas Card Dilemma

Well...it's safe to say I'm not the only one who had given some thought to the Christmas card dilemma. Some people were more concerned with WHO - do you send to everyone you've ever met or just those you consider close? And that begs the question "what does close mean?" Other people were less concerned with who got the card than WHAT went on it - a new family photo, professional vs. snapshots, pics that have been seen on Facebook or newly revealed ones? And still others fretted over WHEN, which was solved by Tania's sharing of quotes from "The Official guide to Christmas in the South, or if you can't fry it, spray paint it gold." (For my friends elsewhere, that's real. There are few things a Southern woman loves more than gold paint. Maybe giant bows.) Apparently, according to this piece of fine literature that I will be acquiring ASAP, "There are certain social needs that can only be met at this special time, [such as] advertising the family name. This is the only time of year when five bucks and a poinsettia can get the family name in the church bulletin."

So what's a girl to do? Knowing that everyone else struggles is kind of comforting, but it doesn't exactly solve the problem. And to cut the suspense, I don't have THE solution. I don't think there is one. Our situations are as colorful as we are, so the solutions are, too. I have some suggestions, though.

Skip it - If you're the type of person who gets caught up in the things you "have to do," take a leap of faith and just don't do one. I bet you'll discover you don't die. While you might have a minor panic attack when someone asks where your Christmas card is, you'll live. And you'll be a little less stressed. And the rest of us can wait a year to see if next year you decide to send one. We'll live, too.

Less is more - If you usually send 200 cards, try sending 100. If whittling down the list makes you break out in hives, give the list and a black pen to your husband. You'll be left with 89 names and a smiley face. (Sidenote: I still contend that this principle, while useful, does not apply to shoes. Just thought I'd throw that out there since we now know by the comments yesterday that my husband is up on the Facebooks.)

Downshift - That's how you slow down a car; I bet it works for slowing down a holiday, too. Instead of the fancy card that tells the world you are Super Mom whether you feel that way or not, send a card that says who you really are - a mom. All day. Every day. Let your family help make cards. Brynna draws a mean rainbow and would be happy to help. She only charges 3 Oreos an hour.

Downshift 2.0 - If, like me, that last suggestion sent you into another kind of frenzy and was met with terrifying visions of what glitter and glue do to hardwood floors, try a different kind of downshift. Maybe making cards would take more time and add more stress. Then it's not the solution for you. Maybe sending a traditional card (with or without a printed picture) makes more sense, and your family can help assemble and mail.

Keep Doing What You Do - Maybe you think I'm nuts and you don't give Christmas cards a second thought. Awesome! I'm calling it now - next year, you're my guest blogger at Christmas time! 

Save Paper. Go digital. - My friend Kelly ends every email with those 4 words. It's also the way she's sent Christmas cards for years. It works best for her. Maybe digital means you send the card electronically. Or maybe it means you forgo the cards and send emails to the few people you really want to connect with. Or maybe you post it on your blog. (Oh, wait. That's just me.)

I am the kind of person who stresses over the details. I do tend to make everything a competition, and bowing out of the race does not come naturally to me. That's why this year, I think it's necessary. I realize I write to the world everyday on the internet, but I'm not a techy person. Email seems so impersonal to me at times. But this year, I'm not using it to be less personal. I'm using it to be more so. I'm sending our card in a way that those who receive it can respond, and we can have a conversation. That's what stretches me. That's what works for me and will make me a little better. Your solution doesn't need to be my solution. It just needs to let you breathe...

I love the cards I have and will receive. I look through them regularly and love each face I see. Maybe you'll print mine out and add it to your pile. Or maybe you'll grant me some grace this year and know that I am thinking of you even if I didn't send it on pearl white metallic card stock. And then maybe you'll grant yourself some grace, too. 

Merry Christmas, friends!

photos courtesy of Hope Toliver Photography (blurred by my lack of computer skills. sorry!!)

The Dilemma: 6 Issues I Have With Christmas Cards

Here's my problem: I love Christmas cards. I love the motivation for a new family picture. I love the brief connection it provides with people I've lost touch with throughout the year. I love receiving them, and I love sending them. One of the things I've always loved most is how each card expresses the personality of that individual or family - the aunt who makes her crew take Santa hats on summer vacation so she can use the picture on the card, the neighbor who still sends a traditional card because that's the way she's always done it, the cousin who sends the card "from the dog" on the family's behalf.

But there's the first piece of The Dilemma:

Issue #1: They aren't individual anymore. Sure, some of them have rounded corners and others are square. Some have 3 photos and some have one. Of course, there are different smiling faces on each one. But it's like everyone went to the same online vendor (you know which one I'm talking about), and while their designs are beautiful, there's only so many of them. Divide that by millions of people and the point of a personalized photo card isn't so personal.

Issue #2: It's become a competition. We all know, I'm a competitive person. I'll compete over who gets to the car first in the morning. David and I race down the stairs on the way to the worship center every Sunday, much to the confusion of church members walking nonchalantly nearby. (And don't tell him, but sometimes I plan my shoes based on which ones I can win in without breaking an ankle. Before you think I'm ridiculous you should know he's been known to throw elbows.) But anyway...I digress. Christmas card competition is just stupid. I'm sorry to be blunt but it is. The point is to reach out to people you love, and it's become a contest to see who can one-up the next person. Whose card cost more, which photos are the best, whose is the most "creative," who is so on top of things to get their cards mailed first. I received a Christmas card in November. I wanted to send a note back that said, "Congratulations. You won. You're the first card. I see you worked all summer to ensure victory, and it paid off well." (Or it didn't pay off at all. It's a card.)

Issue #3: It's some kind of right of passage. I don't like Valentines Day because I feel that it only serves to depress half the population. I'm sadly beginning to put Christmas cards in the same lot. I literally heard someone say once that if you don't have cute kids, you should stick to a traditional non-photo card. Singles, couples without kids and empty-nestersa are apparently not allowed to play the game. Imagine her elation when the single girl gets married and excitedly plans her Christmas card only to learn that the rules stipulate she's still not quite good enough. Gag.

Isssue #4: It's going to end up in the trash, or at best, the bottom of someone's Christmas decoration box. I know there are people who save cards. A friend in Virginia posted a picture the other day of how she keeps cards and pulling them out each year reminds her fondly of those they love near and far. I want to send a card just so she'll know how much I love her sweet family. But the other 199 people I send cards to are likely not as sentimental.

Issue #5: There's nothing new to share. Remember how the crazy aunt used to write a full-page year in review to send with the card? It was single-spaced in Times New Roman 11 point font and even then almost went to 2 pages. Poor Aunt So-and-So has nothing to say that hasn't been on Facebook for months. We've learned to overlook her card like we overlook the details of people's lives.

Issue #6: It's so freaking expensive! The family photos cost money, the coordinating outfits in the family photos cost money, the cards cost money, the shipping costs money, the stamps cost money. Because it's a competition, you then have to factor in the add-ons. The card stock is free, but the heavy-weight pearl card stock is extra. The standard corners are free, but everyone does that, so you've got to pay a little more for the rounded corners. The envelopes are free but not the colored insert or lining. Once you've paid for the card and envelope to be so fabulous, you have to do labels or pre-printed return addresses. Or you've got to buy a personalized stamp or embosser. You've got to!

So there's my dilemma. Do I send Christmas cards because I love them or do I not because what I love about them is not what they are anymore? Do I send an Easter card like some friends of mine so all that hard work and money isn't just added into the pile of others? Do I send a card but only to a few people?

I'll post my solution tomorrow...

What do you think? What are you doing?

7 Rules of Being Playground Best Friends

BFF = Best Friends Forever
BFFFM = Best Friends For Fifteen Minutes (or until someone's Mom says its time to go)

There are a lot of intelligent quotes about friendship. Friendships are born in the midst of tragedy. Friendship is forged over long distance rather than close proximity. Friendship is the product of similar personality and interests.

The very sophisticated people who researched and wrote those quotes have obviously never spent time at the mall play area. The rules of being playground besties are simple:

1. Ask - There's this unspoken code. One child asks "Do you want to play with me?" and another responds. If he says no, it's not cause for tears. He wanted to do something else; on to the next potential friend. If he says "sure," GAME ON.

2. Names are unnecessary - Everytime I ask Brynna the name of the kid she was playing with, I get a look like she's really trying to figure out if I'm mentally stable. It makes no sense to her. Why would you need a name to play with someone?

3. Age doesn't matter - You don't pick who will be at the play area at the same time. You choose from the friend pool you're given. If she's 2 years younger than you, you crawl through tunnels. If he's older than you, you're going to have to run faster because Tag is his middle name.

4. It lasts as long as allowed - The length of friendship is dependent solely on when someone's mom says it's time to go. In a good scenario, you get the "two more minutes" warning. Other times, it's more abrupt.

5. No dress code - You can be friends whether you just came from pictures with Santa in a fancy dress or you came from school and your uniform pants are dirty and falling off because they don't fit right.

6. Help each other - If someone falls down, friends help them up so you can keep going. Making fun serves no purpose. There's a game in process.

7. It doesn't matter that you smell like feet - And they do. They all do.

What matters is you're there, and you're willing to be a friend. It's that simple.

Because Sometimes Parents Need a Pep Talk

At this point in the holiday season, many parents are spent - physically and financially. As is the general state of parenthood, we are overwhelmed. So imagine my pleasant surprise when, waiting in my inbox today, was an email from a pastor at Second Baptist Church. He didn't preach, give statistics or remind us of the reason for the season. He just wanted to say "way to go!" And I don't know if you're like me, but I kind of needed to hear that. 

 Good morning Parents! 

 Merry Christmas!  I’d like to break from the norm and tell you something that you may need to hear. 

Way to go!  You have made it through one more year of parenting!  I know that it may have been rough with challenges, tragedy, victories, and joy, but you made it! 

Thank you for not giving up, for not laying down and quitting and for loving your kids the way Christ would have you do it.  I know that it’s taken sacrifice and endurance, perseverance and lots and lots and lots and lots of prayer and now you have made it to the end of another year. 

Single parents, thank you for playing both roles, struggling to find the right balance between compassion and tenderness and tough love and discipline.  I know it’s not easy.  Don’t be discouraged, but know that your loving Heavenly Father is with you, cheering you on. 

Dads, thank you for stepping up and leading your families spiritually as you pastor them with passion and focus.  Thank you for loving your wives selflessly, laying your lives down for them and presenting them spotless as Christ has called you to do.  Stand firm. 

Moms, thanks for going above and beyond to care for your homes and children and for loving your husbands, warts and all (we have a lot of them)!  Thank you for being patient, understanding and loving and for exemplifying nobility as mentioned in the Proverbs.  Well done!

Now take a deep breath and rest in the truth that God has made provision for wherever you are and however you feel; tired, worn out, content, struggling or at peace.  His hand is strong.  His love is perfect.  His provision is enough. 

Jonny Marks

Family Pastor – Woodway Campus

Second Baptist Church

Before you rush to dismiss his encouragement because you aren't doing all of those things, reread the last paragraph again. "...rest in the truth that God has made provision for wherever you are and however you feel..." You don't have to have it all together first. You don't have to clean up or have all the answers. The most beautiful thing about God is that He sees our junk and loves us anyway. 

Join us. I promise you won't regret it...

Click for more info

After all, Christmas is the best time of year to go to church. 

There's a crowd, extra cool music and usually cookies! 

One...Two...Breathe...

This weekend's one thing: First things first.

Priscilla Shirer said it this way: "It's an adage quickly spouted and often as quickly ignored because we don't know what we should prioritize or we don't like what's first in line when we do."

What you do first determines what comes next. 

You have to first have a consistent bedtime if you want her to respect a curfew.
You have to first walk a mile if you want to run a marathon.
You have to first buy the groceries if you want to bake the cake.
You have to first require obedience at home if you want her to obey at school.
You have to first give God part of your morning if you want Him to bless your day.

What you do first is rarely easy. But what you do first is usually more important than what you do next. 

------------------------------

The quote above is from this book. It's actually not a book but a study. If you want to give God part of your morning so He'll bless your day but you don't know how to do that, you can start here. It will walk you through some verses and questions. It's designed to do as a group, so gather a few friends and do it together. Or, if you do it solo, you can find session answers here. 

If it matters most, but you don't do it first, does it really matter most to you?

What do you do first? Or what do you need to start doing first?

Gag Reel

I made a Gag Reel a few months ago and had so many people say how funny it was. Apparently I'm not the only person who opens my phone's cameral roll to discover all sorts of treasures. It's been a few months and a few more hundred photos and time for another reel. (Sidenote: Can you believe that we have hundreds of pictures just lying around on our PHONES? Remember those commercials and movies we used to think were crazy because someone talked on a phone without a cord? You don't remember? Well, you're 12. What do you know?)

Train a child in the way she should go...and you won't have to take the trash out anymore.

If I had to sum Brynna up in a photo, it would look like this.

...or this

...or this.

I'm not sure why I needed to save it as a picture. But I did.

This is the shirt I brought Brynna from the So You Think You Can Dance tour.

This is what she did when I gave it to her.

My mother-in-law and I have the same breed of dog. Mine ate his twin.

When in doubt, put ALL THE STICKERS ON YOUR FACE!

My view at Kumon

"Mom. We have to take a picture and send it to Daddy so he can see we have the same necklace."

"Mom! Take a picture! I'm on a rock!"
"Mom! Take a picture! I'm on a bench!"
"Mom! Take a picture! I'm with this metal kid!"

My Grown Up Christmas List

An assistant (yes, I stay at home. what of it?)

shoes (no, I don't neeeeeed them. when has that mattered?)

massage

ear plugs

part time child - like one I can borrow when BG is climbing the walls but I don't have to send to college

yellow cupcakes with chocolate icing (I feel like fudge should be a given, but just to be clear. Fudge icing.)

a nap

3 plane tickets to Australia (or 4 plane tickets from AUS to the US. I'm not picky)

a pen that won't run out of ink (#writerproblems)

people to show up in January and offer to take down, organize and store all the Christmas decorations

iPhone5


oh...world peace



Your turn. What's on your list?

Dinner Diversions

Eating a meal with Brynna is always...an event. We used to think that when she got to school, it would help alleviate some of her "quirks." Instead, however, she is completely unaffected by peer pressure. It doesn't bother her at all that she brings a sandwich, fruit and vegetable everyday. It doesn't hurt her feelings not to have the chip or cookie someone else's mom packed. On the day they had a pizza party she told me she would try one bite - just one. In a moment of disbelief I encouraged her, "Great job, Brynna! That's all we ask!" She replied, "Ok. I'll try one bite of pizza for you Mama. When I'm 17."

Awesome. I packed a sandwich, fruit and vegetable.

I love her spunk. I am proud beyond words that she doesn't mind being different and isn't swayed or persuaded by other kids. I just want her to eat. One meal without having to force the issue. One dinner without drama. I'm sure some of you are thinking that I'm just not strict enough and if she won't eat what I make, she doesn't eat. Brynna comes by her will naturally. Hers is strong because mine is too. We've had knock-down drag-out wait-all-night-if-it-takes-that-long meals. We've repeated the same food at multiple meals until it's eaten. We've tried forcing the issue. We've tried minimizing it to not reward attention-seeking. And when she was 1, she underwent gastroscopic surgery because doctors thought she may have a tear in her esophagus causing pain BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T EAT FOR A MONTH.

Needless to say, food is something we deal with. It's not a battle as much anymore. She's learning who's in charge (me) and who's not (her). She's learning that I will allow her room to be herself but she has to do so within the boundaries we set. She's learning that I will only make her try new things at certain times but when I do, we're not leaving until it's done. She's stubborn. She's not dumb. She knows that when we sit down to eat, that's what we are doing. But that doesn't keep her from trying every excuse in the book. As proof, I give you last night's attempted dinner diversions.

I'm cold.
My food is too hot.
My dress is dirty.
The food is spicy.
I need a new fork for my green beans; this one touched my oranges.
My food isn't good.
I'm not 5 years old.
This food is so good (that I want to stop and talk about it, therefore, still not eating it).
I can blink my eyes really fast.
I need to tell you a story about Kaitlin on the playground today.
Hot pink is my favorite color but my plate is purple.
I'm hot.
My food is too cold.
Michael (my imaginary brother) wants a bite.
Miles (the dog) wants a bite.
If I eat all the food, my plate will be lonely.
The butterflies (bow tie pasta) want to dance.
I hear something outside.
It's not snowing.
I need to count how many green beans there are.
Zoe likes ice cream like I do.
AJ's Spider Man shoes light up.
I lost count. I need to count the green beans again.
I need to count how many butterflies are left so the green beans aren't lonely.

I'M NOT KIDDING. This is not a fabrication for the sake of a good story or to prove a point. I literally had my phone beside me and typed as she rambled.

And then I stabbed myself with my fork.


Does your kid have any quirks? Or am I the only one?

What I Now Know

I celebrated my birthday over the weekend. We didn't do anything major, but I got to stay in bed until 8:00, I was serenaded by my two favorite people, OU won, and I had sushi for dinner with friends. In my book, that's pretty spectacular. As usually happens, birthdays make you think. There's a saying that wisdom comes with age. But wisdom doesn't just "come." It's not a given. It doesn't just happen as your age increases. If you've ever met a 40-something who still acts like a 17-year-old, you know exactly what I mean. To get wiser, you have to work at it. You have to seek, reflect and learn from the past - whether mistakes, hurts, joys or triumphs.

Wisdom has taught me a few things, and my prayer today is the same as every day - that Brynna and other girls will learn from where I've been so their list doesn't repeat mine but builds on it. I pray she knows because I now know...

I really am too good for that boy. People weren't just saying that. 
I am worth more than I accepted.
When we accept less, we confuse what we get with what we deserve.
Receiving less than I deserve says more about the other person than it does about me.
Regardless of how I'm treated by another, my worth does not change. God made me. I'm His. 

No one died the day I got a B. (Or later when I got a C.)
Not one person in one interview has ever asked what grade I got in 9th grade Geometry.
Every person in every interview has asked what kind of character I have.
Who I am is more important and will last longer than what I do.

People are disrespected when I'm late. 
The end result isn't a success if getting there wasn't.

Being willing to live in pain does not make you strong.
Keeping the secret did more damage than the abuse.
Living with the junk is way harder than working through it.
Counseling is only a bad word if you're too prideful to ask for help.

Common sense is not common.
Children will follow what you do - not what you say.

It's never wrong to tell the truth.
But if you're right and say it in the wrong way, you're wrong.

Freedom isn't free - not on battlefields nor in hearts.

Will you take one more minute with me? Will you go back and read that list aloud to yourself? Your worth does not change. Who you are is more important than what you do. It's never wrong to tell the truth.

Your turn. Leave a comment. What do you know now?

Facebook is NOT

Before we commence with the list of things Facebook is not, let me say that Facebook IS a lot of things. Facebook is a way to connect with people you would have lost touch with otherwise. Facebook allows you to share life with those who live far away. Facebook lets you go back and see a history of where you've been, what you've seen and how you felt. Facebook gets a message or product in front of a maximum amount of people. Facebook is a tool that, when used properly, can be of great value personally, professionally and individually.

That being said...Facebook is NOT...

Confidential - What you say can AND WILL be used against you.

Neutral - Everyone doesn't agree with your opinion, nor are they obligated to remain an unbiased observer. When you clicked "post" you invited the opinions, critiques and rants of others. If you need to vent without response, may I recommend you get a dog?

Always Kind - There are times, yes, that comments are to encourage or uplift. More often, though, what others have to say creates more harm than help. Their suggestions make you doubt your ability to decide. Their disagreements further your insecurities.

Therapy - The point of voicing your hurts and fears in a counseling session is to shed light on a problem and receive valuable (trained) advice on what steps need to be taken to better the situation. The release of pain does not come from merely saying the words but doing the suggested work alongside a professional. Airing your deepest feelings on Facebook accomplishes none of that. You may say it, but that's not where the healing comes from and the feedback you get will rarely be advisable and often more painful.

Private - EVERYONE CAN SEE THAT. Yes, you wanted to share the picture of your kid on the toilet with all the grandparents and your friend in another state. Yes, it may have been faster to post it than send it privately. Yes, I'm sure it was hilarious. But EVERYONE CAN SEE THAT. No matter how strong your security or privacy settings, Facebook is on the internet. Unless you can write computer code faster than Mark Zuckerberg, you just shared a naked picture of your child where people who have less than admirable intentions have access to it.

That brings me to...Facebook is NOT...

Temporary - Once you post it, you can't unpost it. Once it's said, you can't unsay it. Those pictures will be there for anyone to see - FOREVER - including your child who won't always be 2 and at 17 might not feel as strongly about how hilarious he looked sitting on the toilet.

Pretend - It's REAL. REAL people with REAL feelings are REALLY hurt when you say something unkind. I'm not speaking metaphorically; your kids REALLY will see those pictures. She REALLY will wonder why you tell her to dress modestly but let people she's never met see pictures of her without a shirt on. He REALLY will question if it's better to act respectfully when, to get a laugh, you tell the world every time he misbehaves. Protecting our kids is a full time job and they need us to keep them safe in cyberspace just as diligently as we inspect carseats and food labels.

Necessary - Am I saying we should all go delete our accounts? No. What I'm saying is that if no one comments on your post it doesn't make your thought less valid or your feeling less real. If someone disagrees it doesn't make you wrong. If someone agrees it doesn't make you right.

I hope it goes without saying, but I don't just mean Facebook. I mean Twitter and Instagram and Pinterest and whatever else there is that I don't even know the name of. 

So what did I miss? What else is social media NOT?

Good Word Wednesday

Last week, I tweeted this:

I had several people ask me about it, and Courtney graciously allowed me to share her question:

The thing is, I don't think straight. I am SO easily distracted. I start thinking about cleaning the kitchen but then I remember I need to do laundry and it should run while I clean the kitchen. On the way to the utility room, I see Brynna's toys and decide I'll grab them while I'm going upstairs anyway. I finally get upstairs and see the ironing on top of the dryer. Halfway through ironing I realize I never started the washer, the dishes are still in the kitchen sink and it's time to go pick BG up from school. Awesome. Now, if I write it down, that's a different story. I can prioritize all the things and usually do more.

Praying is similar. If I do what I learned in 2nd grade Sunday school - "bow my head to show respect and close my eyes to shut out the world" - I end up in trouble. Closed eyes mean the crazy world of my thoughts kick into overdrive, and when a mom bows her head, there better be a pillow nearby. That doesn't mean I never close my eyes. It doesn't mean when the pastor says "bow your head" that I refuse. What it means is that if I really want to hear from God, to get help for my hurt or answers to my questions, I have to write it down. Writing my prayers keeps me focused. It makes me pay attention to what I'm saying so I can complete the sentence. When the wandering thoughts invade (because they always do), I can look back at the paragraph, regroup and keep going.

If you've never done it, try it. Write down the hurts and questions of your heart. Put them in perspective in black and white. Once you have developed the skill of writing them down, you can see what needs to get better. Like any good recipe, prayer only works when you do it in order. You can't add the flour until you've mixed the eggs...

You have to start by 1) thanking God for what you have. You have to 2) repent for where you've messed up. Only then - when you've acknowledged that He's God and you aren't - can you 3) ask for something. And God is not a genie. He's not Santa Clause. You don't get to toss a list at Him and wait for Him to deliver. The process only ends when you 4) listen.

This is where my red pen comes into play. Once I've written my prayers in black, I've got to leave white space. I've got to be quiet. I've got to shut up. It's not a conversation if only one person talks. So I listen. And if I'm quiet long enough, I'll remember part of a verse I once heard. I'll understand something that moments before didn't make sense. I'll feel a peace that doesn't quite match the pain of the situation. When that happens, I look up the verse (sometimes that takes awhile...that's ok), write down the revelation or accept the peace. And I do it in red so I can go back and see what I said vs. what God said. Black, white, red. Black, white, red. Every day. Try it. Black. White. Red.

There are a lot of books on prayer and Bible study and having a "quiet time" with God. I've yet to find one better than Secrets of the Secret Place by Bob Sorge. It's not wordy. It's not hard or complicated. The whole book is barely 200 pages. At times, it almost seems too simple. But if it were easy, everyone would do it.
                                                                  
Try it. I promise you won't be disappointed.

And...please don't ever feel like Courtney did that you can't leave a comment or question. We aren't exactly praying, but a conversation still requires 2 sides. I want to have a discussion. You clearly know everything (and more) about what's on my mind. I want to know what's on yours!