What I Learned Without Information

Information. That's what we tell ourselves. We say it's all in the name of knowledge. We say we aren't addicted to social media, we just want to be informed. We say it's necessary to inundate ourselves with a constant stream of stimulation so we don't miss anything. The thing is, I learned more in the 40 days without that information than I ever did in the midst of it. I learned so much that I've yet to put the Facebook app back on my phone and if given the option to sit and wait for Brynna to finish Kumon or read my Twitter feed, I just wait. And my phone sits in my pocket. Or...dare I say it...in the car. Because I'm not going to die if it's more than 10 feet from me.

So here's what I learned without all that information:

I think in Tweets
Example: My parents visit and take Brynna and her buddy to Disney on Ice. Although I was never allowed to do so as a child, the girls eat popcorn, cotton candy and sno cones. My first thought is "Grandparenting 101: #love #spoil #repeat"

I don't let it (a lesson or good Word) sink in before I give it away (tweet it)
Quotes that would have been tweeted: 
"If you discount your sin, you discount what God did to forgive it."
"It's far easier to ACT like a Christian than it is to REACT like a Christian. Our reactions reveal who we really are."
"Jesus broke the curse so you could break the cycle."
"If you want all God has to give, you've got to be willing to do all He asks."

God didn't speak more without social media. I could just hear more.

God is never going to shout. He will whisper and wait. The more noise I indulge, the longer it will take.

My friend Courtney did the same challenge over Lent. When she removed the apps from her phone, she said "There's a huge hole where Facebook used to be." She meant on the home screen. It applies to time as well.

When I thought of someone, I called or texted them instead of assuming they saw my last tweet.

The point of posts or tweets is generally to share what's on your mind - not ask someone else what's on theirs.

I pick up my phone approximately 712 times a day

709 of the times I pick up my phone, it looks exactly the same as the time before

Picking up my phone is more habit than interest
I checked my email and the weather 100 times a day because it was the only thing left on my phone to refresh and Heaven forbid if I didn't know the SECOND something changed.

I don't actually NEED my phone 24 hours a day.

I needed a better news app. Using Facebook to know what's going on in the world is both sad and misleading. I am now actually informed about real events that happened instead of 200 people's opinions about what happened

The news makes me sad.
That's kind of a beside-the-point. But it does. We are so appalled at how a man could be mistreated while being executed while we support millions of babies dying every day.

But the best thing I learned without all that information is this:
It doesn't matter. Information is good; don't get me wrong. But my reading, hearing or saying it, doesn't make it true. Whether I know about it or not, God will comfort someone who mourns today. He will make sure the earth spins on it's axis.

And He will do it all without my help.

10 Things I Wanted to Tweet: Part 2

1

If you aren't willing to OBEY it, it doesn't do much good to PRAY it.

2

Why walk when you've got Daddy? #RidinInStyle

3

There are very few things Sour Patch Kids can't heal

4

"Your life follows your words. What you say and listen to matters." @vickiyohe @tocmc #DiamondsConference

5

Real men send flowers #realman #ImGrateful

6

This girl. #ImGrateful @saraeshields

7

I double dog pound dare you to listen to #Happy and not dance. @pharrell #YouCantDoIt #ClapAlong

8

Most of us are already educated far beyond our level of obedience. We just need to DO what we already KNOW. @stevenfurtick #CrashTheChatterbox

9

He's hungry #ThatsAWholeChicken #happyplate @HavenHouston

10

I feel like there was a better way to do this...

10 Things I Wanted to Tweet: Part 1

So I gave up social media for Lent, and I have to say...it was hard. But it was also life changing. That sounds crazy to say, but it was. I won't be the same after this 40+ days without the endless stream of information we've come to think we need. I learned a lot. I learned the things we all do when we unplug from the noise and see what's really important. I realized who and what is most important to me. But I also had a few revelations that surprised me. One was that social media has really great, redeeming qualities. There are friends and family I love who don't live nearby and our schedules rarely allow us to connect face-to-face. I missed those people deeply. I missed seeing their kids do silly things and all the other stuff we post day-to-day that allows us to have a window into each other's lives. And I missed sharing those things. And CLEARLY, you missed me. Right? (Smile and nod.)

I know that for over a month you have been sitting sadly in front of your screen wishing you knew what I was doing that day. I know you couldn't sleep wondering what crazy thing Brynna said or I did in response to something crazy Brynna said.

Alas! Take heart, dear ones. I took notes!

Things I wanted to tweet:

1

Me: aren't you supposed to be cleaning up? BG: I got distracted looking at how pretty I am #AtLeastShesHonest #GottaWorkOnHumility

2

Silly Sock Day (I have no other words)

3

Kids should come with earplugs #Seriously #NotKidding

4

Fake lips are always funny

5

Everything you say must be true. But everything true doesn't need to be said. #TrueThat

6

What you permit, you promote. #WhatAreYouPermitting?

7

Yep, this is church. Yep, it's Texan Day. #IDontEvenKnowWhatThatMeans #OnlyInTexas

8

I've worn cowboy boots more in a month in Houston than...well...ever.

9

"OUTCOME is God's responsibility. OBEDIENCE is mine." @craiggroeschel

10

Me: Uncle Parker and Brittney are engaged. They are going to get married. BG: Quick. Take a picture of me like this and send it to them. #excitedface

Beautiful Ashes

Did you walk into work yesterday and see a coworker with a smudge on her forehead you wanted desperately to wipe off but didn't seem to bother her?
Did you come back to find your boss, seated at his desk with a cross on his forehead that wasn't there before he left for lunch?

If you answered yes or had a similar experience, allow me to explain. Your coworkers have not lost it. They didn't join a cult on their way to work. Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. As I explained the other day, Christians celebrate the season before Easter with a practice of fasting called Lent. Ash Wednesday is the first day of Lent. As a way to focus on why they are fasting, Catholics (and some other denominations as well) hold services throughout the day. As a part of the service, ashes are placed on the forehead in the shape of a cross. In the Bible, ashes are used as a sign of mourning. On Ash Wednesday, the ashes symbolize the mourning of where we went wrong and our repentance and desire to be better examples of Christ's love.

So here's my question for those of us without ashes on our heads...
Could you do it?
If you walked into the office would people be shocked to learn you even know where a church is?
Would you be a hypocrite with a symbol of God for all to see at a football game? in traffic? with your family? on the golf course?

And here's my question for those with...
Did you leave it there all day?
Did you try to cover it up or downplay its significance?
Did you act any differently with that mark than you do at other times?

Here's my reason for asking:
There's a Catholic church on the corner on the way to Brynna's school. I passed that corner 4 times yesterday and each time there were droves of people coming out after the ending of a mass. Each person had an ashen cross on their heads. Each was heading back to his/her respective life. And I couldn't help but wonder what the rest of the day would be like for them. I couldn't help but think about the rest of my day and what it would be like if everywhere I went people immediately knew what I believe.

Because that's supposed to be every day.
But is it?

Did you receive ashes yesterday? Did it change anything about the way you spoke or acted?
If you were marked with a symbol of your beliefs would your walk match your talk?

Those ashes have the ability to be an ugly display to the world that we say one thing but do another. Or they can be a beautiful representation of a heart that's not perfect, never will be but loves people like Jesus does.

I hope they weren't just dark smudges.
I hope they changed someone.

And more than anything, I hope that when Jesus looks at me, He sees  - not on my head but in my heart - beautiful ashes.

Cut, Jump, Write

Have you ever done this? Have you said I want to cut my hair so bad!! for 3 weeks? Have you poured over pictures of haircuts and styles, wanting one of them for yourself? Have you asked everyone you know which cut would look best on you, all the while, NOT CUTTING YOUR HAIR? We blame it on a lot of stuff. I don't know which one to choose. I don't know how my husband would feel. I don't know when to do it. I don't know which stylist to call. But at the end of the day, when you take out all of the other stuff, you are left with "I want to cut my hair to bad...but you don't."

That's where I've been the past few weeks. Not literally with hair - I don't have much more to cut. (Somewhere my dad just read this and had a minor panic attack at the thought of me going from pixie cut to completely bald.) Mine has been here, on my keyboard - the place where I'm most vulnerable. I want to write so bad. I want to share and teach and make people laugh and walk alongside and mentor and praise and be silly and laugh and cry. I want to write. I want to write a book. I want to write a bible study. I want to write just about anywhere someone could read the words. But the past several weeks I've been living in the land of "but you don't." I have a lot of really good reasons. I stay at home and that means 24 hours a day of nonstop something. I don't want to write a blog if I should wait and write a book. I don't want to write a book if I should wait and format it for a website. I don't know where to start. But I also have not-so-really-good reasons. At the core, if I'm honest, I'm scared. Terrified might be a better word. Scared of what to write and when and where and how... I'm afraid.

But today, I noticed something again for the first time. Do you ever do that? You've seen something a dozen times but all of a sudden, something clicks and makes sense in a way it didn't the other 12 times. I read this verse:
      My peace I give you....do not let your hearts be troubled and not be afraid. (John 14:27) 
Even if you don't know much about the Bible, you've probably heard that in one context or another. But here's what I saw today...
     You have the choice to be troubled or accept the peace I give you. Don't choose to be afraid.
That word "let" implies that I decide what troubles my heart. "Do not" suggests that it's a conscious decision to do or not to do. It doesn't say there's nothing to be afraid of. Life is scary sometimes. It simply says choose to trust more than you choose to fear.

Maybe you do want to cut your hair. Or maybe it's a different kind of cliff you're staring at, wishing you were on the other side, but parlayed to jump. Maybe, like me, you have a dream you want so bad you're scared to do anything about for fear you'll mess it up.

Whatever it is, I say we cut, jump, write. I say we take a really deep breath and even though everything inside is scared to death, we choose to trust more than we choose to fear.

What do you fear? Are you willing to choose take a little step toward trust? Leave a comment and share. If that scares you even more, I can tell you...I just told the world my biggest fear and I'm surprisingly, still standing. So I've got that going for me...

UNjust

Girls, we have a problem. It happens every single day in doctors' offices and classrooms, dorm rooms and cubicles. It happens on playgrounds. It happens in bathrooms. It's a problem.

I sat in a bible study last night and listened as some of the sweetest women I know shared their hearts and feelings. These girls are superstars. They work full time to support their families. They care for their husbands. They travel when they'd rather be home. They stay home with the kids even when that's not their preference. They are friends when another woman needs a friend. They are wives and moms, sisters and friends. They do more in a day than some people accomplish in a month. They are amazing. Yet I heard one word over and over as I listened to them, and it broke my heart. Every time they said it, it hurt me to see them hurt.

just

I'm just a mom
I'm just a wife.
I'm just a teacher.
I'm just an accountant.
I'm just in school.
I've just been married a few months.
I've just got one kid.

just

There is nothing just about being a mom.
There is nothing just about being a wife or teacher or accountant.
There is nothing just about finishing school or staying in a marriage when it gets hard.

We need to UNjust our vocabulary. We need to make our minds and hearts UNjust.

Girls, I want to let you in on a secret. Are you ready? I'm talking to myself, too. Here it is: we're on the same team! We all want kids who eat their food and respect adults. We all want someone to love who makes us feel good about ourselves. We all want to contribute something to the world that will last. We want the same things. It may look a little different, but at our core, we are fighting for the same things. But get this way down deep in your heart. Plant it there and let it take root. We are on the same team. We don't have to fight each other.

So your best friend did a sensory activity with her kids and you don't know what sensory means. That's awesome for her kids.
So your coworker has a few more letters at the end of her name. That's awesome for her email signature.
So your sister is married and you aren't. That's awesome. She has struggles you can't imagine. And you struggle in ways that aren't a part of her daily life.

We think we are just this or just that because we are constantly comparing ourselves. We don't stop to give ourselves credit because we're too busy finding someone who did it first or bigger or brighter. Let me ask you this: if your kid learns to pee in the toilet today are you going to reprimand her because Katie down the street has been potty trained for a month? Heck to the no! You're going to praise Jesus that you don't have to Clorox the floor 17 times. Her accomplishment is no less life-changing. Her success has nothing to do with Katie's. Now maybe you and Katie's mom can have a 3 minute conversation without worrying about what's happening in the other room. (maybe)

How ridiculous would it sound to say "It's just a beautiful day so I'm just going to drive my car that I just have the resources to afford so I can just go to work and just pay for my kids to have just a roof over their heads"? That's dumb. So here's what I propose. I double dog pound dare you. Remove the word "just" from your vocabulary and see what happens. Stop when you start to say "Well, I'm just..." Replace it with "I'm a woman." "I'm a mom." "I'm a bus driver." Because those are all pretty great things.

And when you do, send me a note because I want to hear how special you are. I want to hear about how your corner of the world - regardless of how small you think it is - is different because you're a part of it. You aren't just here. You're here! And here is better because of you.

ps - yes, I did double dog pound dare you. so it's official. you have to do it.

pps - I now know what sensory means but I still won't be giving Brynna a bucket of rice to play with on the kitchen floor. I can't. I'm short of breath just thinking about the mess.

Turn Back to Praise

There's a story in the Bible about 10 men who were healed. They all had leprosy. They all cried out for Jesus to have pity on them. They all walked away clean. Only one turned back to say thank you. I don't know if it's because I have a child of my own who I would do anything for or if it's because I've seen Jesus do more amazing things than I ever thought possible. But whatever the reason, this story has been on my mind constantly.

I think about it when I pick Brynna up from school and all 20 kids leave, the product of their teacher's outpouring of herself into them. Does she stand there in the wake somedays and wonder "do they realize what it takes to keep order with 4 year olds all day?"

I think about it each of the 73 times a day I help Brynna with a task she can't do on her own. I wonder "does she realize that I stopped what I was doing to make sure she got what she needed?"

I think about it at church when I see hundreds of people stream past staff members, few of whom really understand what it takes to welcome them each week.

I think about it at restaurants, the movies, the grocery store...I think about the man who cuts my grass and the precious woman who cleans my house. Do they end somedays wondering "do the people I served today have any idea what it cost me?"

I never want to be one of the nine. I don't want to raise a child who's one of the nine. I never want to go on with life as usual, overlooking the blessing that I have only because someone sacrificed something of their own. I want to turn every chance I get, and like the one man who came back, throw myself at Jesus's feet, praising and thanking him.

The past year has been a lesson in restoration. Our time in DC was difficult for many reasons, but our marriage suffered the most. Friends prayed; our therapist counseled. We are better because they gave of themselves, and I am so grateful.

Moving was a necessary part of that restoration. My mother-in-law spent 18+ hours in a car and one night in a shady hotel we still talk about. My parents spent 2 weeks away from their own making sure our new house was a place we can call home. They gave of themselves, and I am so grateful.

Two months ago my family was in need. My niece faced 2 life-threatening surgeries; we felt scared, hopeful and helpless all at once. People stopped their lives to pray with us. People Zoe may never meet fasted on our behalf. She is spending a week with her grandparents; she went to the beach. She can ride a bike, bend and stretch in ways that are nothing short of miraculous, and I am so grateful. Forever. Overwhelmingly grateful.

I am a broken, imperfect person who tries really hard but often messes up. I am "good" but can't ever be good enough to get to Heaven on my own. God loves me anyway. He stepped in front of the bullet meant for me. He took the consequences so even though I'm not good enough on my own, I am with Him, and I am so grateful. Overwhelmingly, eternally grateful.

I never want to be one of the nine. I never want to go on with life as usual and overlook what it cost to get me here. I want to turn back often.

Turn back and say thank you.

Keep Going

The plague descended on my house last week. People were coughing and sneezing and moaning and sweating. I made chicken noodle soup, rubbed backs and watched The Parent Trap approximately a gazillion times. I also drank orange juice and immunity boosters like they were Dr. Pepper. Of course, they weren't, so I drank that, too.

As I emerged from the fog yesterday it dawned on me that I did none of the standard New Year's stuff. I'm not just talking about black eyed peas and kisses at midnight. Although, I didn't do those either. I hate black eyed peas and if you wonder why I didn't kiss anyone, reread the paragraph above. (The plague, people.) No, I'm talking about visions or resolutions or whatever spin you put on it when you write down what you plan to start but likely never finish. It's become such the norm that we have phrases like "New Year, New You." But we also joke about how January is for making plans, February is for starting and March is for returning to life as normal.

I love beginnings, so New Years has always been fun. I love writing down my plans for the year and addressing what changes I can make with a fresh start. But I'm the poster child for the January, February, March thing. Partly because I write down MY plans and those are often a bit different than God's plans. Partly because I set ridiculously unrealistic expectations for myself. Mostly, it's just because it's way easier to start than it is to finish.

I don't have a new master plan for 2014. My plan is to keep doing what God told me to do in 2013 (and 2012, 2011 and 2010, if we're being honest). My plan is to keep going when I feel like stopping, to reach the end when I want to quit. Some goals take longer to reach than you thought they would. Sometimes they fit neatly into 365 days, but more often than not, they don't. In those cases, I don't need to resolve to start. I need to resolve to keep going. I don't need to begin. I need to finish.

I need to finish...
Launching a website
Writing a book
Cleaning the guest room closet

What about you? 
Did you start something but never end? You still can. The finish line is still there. The goal is still waiting for you to achieve it. It may look different than you originally thought, but you can do it. Keep going. Breathe a little easier. Maybe you don't need to resolve to start. Maybe you need to resolve to finish.

The Little Engine That Could told himself "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..." In Finding Nemo they "just keep swimming, swimming, swimming, swimming..." You can do it. Even in the middle when it's hard. No matter what the calendar says. Keep going.

What do you need to keep going toward? What do you need to finish?
Let's do it together. Starting is the easy part. Ending is what takes guts.

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.

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?

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?

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!

I pray I learn to love like kids do...

As we drove to lunch today, Brynna prompted a conversation that will stay with me always. Sitting in the backseat dressed loudly in pink, she asked if Zoe was in surgery. I explained that it was still nighttime in Australia so Zoe was sleeping but would start surgery soon. Brynna was momentarily distracted by the timezone discrepancy (she comes by that naturally; it confuses the heck out of me) and then she said, "So AJ & Zoe and I share the sun. When it's here, they're sleeping and then when they have the sun, I'm sleeping."

I'm not sure I've ever heard a better explanation.

She chattered on about how she hoped Zoe wouldn't be too scared and how she prayed she slept well. Then, as though the thought hit her for the first time, she asked, "Mama. What's actually wrong with Zoe's back?"

It never occurred to her to need the details to pray.

I explained that when Zoe was two, she had a really bad bug on her back and it hurt her insides. She had to take medicine and have surgery to remove it. Now the doctors are fixing where the bug hurt her back. She thought a moment and as if she was doing math in her tiny head, she asked, "So has Zoe always been sick since I've been alive?" I confirmed and told her that's why in some of the pictures when she and AJ were babies, Zoe doesn't have hair. The medicine made her lose her hair. Her response was, "Zoe lost her hair?" I told her to think about the picture on Yaya's wall. Nothing. I told her to think about the pictures we laugh about when she and AJ were such different sizes. Nothing.

She was too busy playing with and loving her cousin to notice she was bald.

She then asked if Zoe's back has always hurt even after the bug was gone. "Yes, " I told her. "That's why she's had to wear a brace." I can't count how many times Brynna and Zoe have been in the midst of a conversation while Zoe laid on the floor and one of us tightened the straps on her brace her brace. (Brynna's arm is literally wrapped around Zoe's brace as they smile for the camera in Disney World.) Brynna obviously knows Zoe has worn a brace; it just never dawned on her it was bad. I added that after today's surgery, she hopefully won't have to wear the brace again or the halo on her head. Without a joking ounce in her body, she asked with every bit of 4-year-old seriousness, "Mom. There's something IN Zoe's head?" The tone in her voice implied "What is wrong with you people that you haven't gotten it off her head before now?!"

I share these pics only to illustrate how profound it is that she literally never noticed. That check in your gut that just happened...she never had that thought of "oh, poor Zoe!" She saw her cousin. She loves her cousin. They made faces to see who could make the other laugh because that's what they do.

We could learn so much from children if we'd let them teach us.

We don't need to be in the same timezone to share.
We don't need details to pray.
If we'd focus so intently on loving one another, we wouldn't even recognize the differences and flaws that we think are such a big deal.

Be Loud

Zoe is loud. She comes by it naturally. Her mom is loud, her brother and cousin Brynna are loud. Some might even say her Aunt Gigi is loud. (me? noooo!) Zoe is a different kind of loud. She laughs loud like AJ and talks loud like Brynna. She snorts loud when she laughs like her mama and dresses loud (which could not please her Aunt Gigi more!). But Zoe also loves loud. She has this ability to love you even if you don't love her back (which you will do eventually because you can't help it). She loves no matter what you look like. She loves no matter where she is. She loves with all of her little self.

When Zoe was admitted to the hospital a couple weeks ago, she immediately set about making the space hers. No way could she lay in a quiet, colorless room for a month! She hung streamers from her bed rails and decorated with art work and balloons and more streamers. The bed she's been in for traction has a canopy-like frame over it that looks like a birthday party had too much to drink. And it's awesome. It's exactly who she is. She also entered the intensive care ward like she and her mama enter any space - they immediately knew everyone's names, why they are there and how they could make them laugh. And that's what she's done for the past 10 days. She's loudly loved the patients, doctors, nurses and visitors of that hospital. She's had bubble fights so messy they had to mop the floor. She's done every art project they could think up for someone flat on her back. She's made silly faces with Brynna across an ocean, and we've laughed so loud we've been asked to keep it down. She's watched television by changing channels with her toes, much to the amusement of everyone in sight. She's learned to roll and climb while keeping her head stationary in the halo and is not shy to put on a show. Zoe has laughed and loved loud.

Our loud little monkey has surgery again today. Her progress while in traction has been even more than doctors predicted, and they are hopeful today's fusion will be her last surgery for awhile. That's our hope, too. Zoe is understandably scared. Just like a couple weeks ago, we all are. This surgery will fuse part of her spine by inserting a rod and screws in several vertebrate. That part of her spine will never grow further. Surgery is several hours long, and again, I'm sitting on the opposite side of the world rather than in the waiting room by my sister. There are risks that come with any operation, but especially spinal surgery, that I can't bear to think about. 

But here is where my heart will sit today - God is loud. He likes to display His glory in big ways because He's big. The sky that goes on forever, the sunset with more colors than I can name, the newborn baby who miraculously goes from breathing liquid to air in seconds...He's loud in ways we can't comprehend. He's loud, and He made Zoe beautifully loud.

So today, I'm praying loud. And I'm dressing loud and I'm laughing loud. I'm going to play with Brynna loud, and I'm going to love loud. If you aren't already dressed for the day, go add something pink (the brighter the better) and think of Zoe for me. If the pink doesn't match or makes your outfit a little more loud than usual...all the better! 

No matter where you are. No matter what it looks like. Just like Zoe, with all your little self...Be loud.

If you dress loud, post a pic on Twitter or Instagram with hashtag #ZoeLife so I can show her!

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

This weekend's one thing: Say thank you.

It's not that we don't think it. It's that we don't always say it. And there's something more potent about saying it. There's something meaningful - to you and the person receiving - if you go out of your way. What if you didn't just say it but instead, you show it? What if you write a note by hand instead of an email? What if you call the person instead of sending a text?

This was a busy week. For many of us it was spent with family. Someone opened their home. Someone cooked. Someone cleaned or watched kids or played or made you smile.

Who can you thank? 

Not because you have to. Because you can. 

Give Thanks

I've explained before that I have a tradition with my friends. When we are struggling or stressed, we ask others to start an "I'm Grateful" day. There is something therapeutic and motivating about hearing the praises of others. Thanksgiving is our country's version of a Grateful day - regardless of where you are or what you've been through, it's a day set aside to give thanks. It's a day to pause and step back from the normal routine of life. But unfortunately, some routines can't be stepped away from. Sometimes you are in the midst of a struggle you can't put on hold. There is no pause button on divorce, unemployment or cancer. Those are the days when you need a little help. You need to hear the praise of others to help motivate and heal your spirit.

My family is in one of those seasons. Zoe can't put traction or spinal surgery on hold. My sister and brother-in-law can't step away from the hospital routine. There is no pause button. A Grateful day is in order and it just so happens, the entire US decided to join us! I may not be able to go to Australia, but praise doesn't need a plane ticket. (Look at that! Zoe is bridging international boundaries and she's never left her bed!)

So today, on Thanksgiving Day, these are a few things I'm grateful for...

iMessage
camera phones
Skype & FaceTime
AT&T myfi (I don't actually know what you call it, but this little white box means I can connect to the internet in the middle of a hay field)
Brynna's laugh
AJ's innocent spirit
Zoe's smile
real Dr. Pepper
Kleenex
warm socks
heating
indoor plumbing (it's cold out there!)
reading glasses
enough food to eat and share
my fingers (the keyboard is how I speak)
David's hug
Taylor
my dad's wisdom
my mom's heart
watching Brynna dance with Nia and Nala
Autum, Colby and Chassidy
snuggles with Miles
high heels
tall boots
biscuits & gravy
my girlfriends
grace
mercy
Jesus

(my list is CLEALY not in order of importance!)

So now it's your turn. Will you please list a few things you're grateful for? You can add it as a Facebook comment or here below. You can tweet them with hashtag #ImGrateful or you can take a pic and post them on Instagram. Just know that the more you praise, the more you help my sister (and everyone around you) do the same. The more you praise, the farther away the worries get. The more you praise, the more you see the good and the less scary the bad seems.

ps...this is not rhetorical. I'm literally asking you to literally post the things you're literally grateful for.
pps...this is not a writing contest. There is no great wisdom in my love for Dr. Pepper.
ppps...when you're done, share this post so my sister can see how many people all over the world are willing share their praise
pppps...I don't actually have another note. I just wanted to put "pppps". but while I'm here - What are you grateful for???

Silver Linings Playbook

I never saw that movie. I actually don't really know what it's about. But I love the title. I want to live by that playbook. I want to take my cues based on the silver linings rather than the clouds.

My niece, Zoe, is in traction in a hospital in Australia. My sister is sitting by her bed and I'm not there. Zoe is in pain. Vikki is tired. Those are some dark clouds. And if all we look for are the clouds, there are more to be found. But if we look for the silver linings...what a better skyline that is. What a more beautiful sight!

The hospital they are in is set up differently than we understand in the US. You don't suffer your pain quietly and personally but laying right next to another child in their own pain. There is no private room with your own bathroom and place to lay by your baby's bed. There isn't space to take a moment to yourself to regroup, pray or cry. That cloud feels pretty dark and heavy. But if you look for it, there's a silver lining. That lack of privacy means you know the people around you. The day Zoe was admitted, she shared a room with two other kids. One little boy was undergoing chemo, so Zoe and Vikki could relate personally and give them encouragement. The other was just out of surgery similar to the one Zoe will have next week. Those close quarters meant that Vikki was able to talk to parents. Those conversations meant those kids were prayed for by people an ocean away. I prayed for them just this morning.

Sometimes a cloud feels darker because of when it rolls in. In the middle of the night when Vikki had just gotten Zoe calmed down and resting, a little girl was brought in to the room where Zoe is in traction. She needed constant supervision but her parents were less than concerned for those around them in such critical conditions. As you can imagine, Vikki initially responded with frustration at the effect their outburst had on Zoe. I have a "you wake her, you take her rule" and that's just on a Tuesday. But throughout the next day they got to know that little girl. They learned about her life and struggles. Vikki circled her bed in person, and I joined her prayer in spirit. They were able to be a little bright spot for her. They were a silver lining for her and she was one for them.

And my favorite silver lining of all... The night Zoe shared the room with two kids, one of them, Anthony, had complications from his fusion surgery. It's sad to see any child hurt. It's hard to not be able to help them. It was scary on a new level to see Anthony's pain knowing Zoe would have the same procedure. That cloud isn't just black, it's ominous. That's the kind of cloud that feels like it blocks out the sun. But God had the lining ready and waiting in the room down the hall. Zoe was moved into a room with a little girl named Rachel. Rachel is 12 and has paralysis and severe trauma as a result of a car accident years ago. Her family lives hours away, so they aren't at the hospital with her. She's been in rehab and under observation for so long that it's been arranged for Rachel to be able to go to school. That means that Rachel wakes up, go to school and then goes "home" to hang with the nurses in the afternoon. I could hear the heartbreak my sister felt as she described Rachel's situation. But where Vikki saw sadness, Zoe saw opportunity. Zoe may be in a hospital but she's a child. And children have a way of seeing what we can't. As they talked, Zoe asked Rachel where her mom is. When Zoe finally understood that Rachel was alone, her response wasn't pity. Her face lit up and she said, "Well that's great because my mom's here and she can help us with whatever we need!"

We see a little girl alone in a hospital. Zoe saw a friend to share with.
We are sad for a mom who has to watch her baby hurt. The girls just saw a mom being a mom.
We cry for what is. They smile at what can be.

Rachel is no longer alone. She visits Zoe in traction, and Vikki keeps tabs on Rachel's progress so she can answer when Zoe asks how she is.

When we look for clouds, we will find them.
When we look with the eyes of a child, we will see the silver linings.

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

This weekend's one thing: God is bigger.


"Than what?" you ask. Bigger than whatever just popped in your head. Bigger than the thing you use as a trump card when you think no one, ever, could possibly understand or help. Bigger than the thing that's so big you don't talk about it and still it feels like it's consuming you. Bigger than the thing so small you think no one notices.

What if, just for these TWO days, you commit to sit the excuses on a shelf and think about ONE thing? What if you consider what could be if He really is bigger? What would change? How would life look different? What could you let go of or move on to? How would your thoughts change? 

Now, let me add a side note: I see you. You're thinking "If I were to accept He's bigger than my hurt and He doesn't take it away, then He does me no good. That's not a loving God." Have you ever seen a kid learn to ride a bike? When he falls, you are big enough to pick him up; you're able to take away the bike and drive him around for the rest of his days. But would he learn to ride that way? Does it make you less capable or less loving that you stay right by his side but let him learn through the skinned knees and bruised pride? It's actually harder. But you can do that for him because you're older, wiser, smarter, stronger, bigger.

God is bigger.

...than cancer and surgery and a little girl I love hurting so far away.
...than whatever it is that you think He's not bigger than. He's bigger than that, too.

God is bigger. 

Try it. For just two days. Look at everything you think and feel through the lens that even THAT - God is bigger than.