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

For many of us, the weekend is no longer a time of rest and refreshment from the week of work. Saturday and Sunday end up being even busier and sometimes more stressful than Monday - Friday. With laundry, cleaning, soccer games, birthday parties, work that spilled over, church...your brain can't focus on one thing before it's time to rush off to the next thing. But what if you only thought about one thing? What if you focused on one theme for the whole weekend? What if you didn't pressure yourself to keep up with all the things but, instead, meditated on one thing? This is my new weekend philosophy: What's possible if I focus on ONE thing for TWO days and BREATHE? That doesn't mean that the other things aren't still present and pressing, but think of them in light of the one thing. As much as we claim to be multi-taskers as women, our brains can't actually have more than one thought at a single moment. If you decide to focus on one thing, you momentarily free yourself from the other things. You make space to breathe. So rather than trying to answer all the questions about all the things, for these two days, what would happen if you filter every thought, emotion and action through that one thing?

This weekend's one thing: obey anyway.

When you contemplate the change of plans, don't worry about how and why and when and where...obey anyway.
When she tells you to do something, don't give excuses...obey anyway.
When you're scared...obey anyway.
When the mom at the birthday party drives you crazy...obey anyway.
When you're tired...obey anyway.
When you're even more tired that you thought you were capable of being...obey anyway.
When they make a mess...obey anyway.
When the laundry piles up...obey anyway.
When you have an excuse not to...obey anyway.
When you don't think you can...obey anyway.

I don't know what you're supposed to obey. Maybe it's to be present as a mom and not also on the phone. Maybe it's to do one thing at a time. Maybe it's to be willing to go where you don't want to go. Maybe it's to say no to what you want because you need to say yes to what's best for your family. Maybe it's to stop AND BREATHE.

As you sit at the 3rd soccer game of the day, don't let your mind wander to work or chores, meditate on the ONE thought obey anyway. And take a breath. What does that mean for you? What does it mean for your family? What do you need to obey that hasn't gotten much of your brain space lately? As you rush from a birthday party to the store to the dry cleaner, don't stress about the time or think about what else is on the To Do list. Think about the thought obey anyway. And breathe. How can you apply it right where you are right when you're there?

Summertime

When we first learned we were moving to DC, the first thing everyone asked was, "Do you know it gets cold there?" That was quickly followed by "It rains there. Do you know it rains there?" My response was the same each time - I've spent most of my life in the midwest, so I was excited to live in a place where there are distinct seasons. We don't have many white Christmases in Texas, and the trees have to get a break from scorching sun before leaves can change colors and fall. (Well, they fall. It's just a pile of dead, brown leaves. Not so picturesque.) I never did get used to the cold or like the rain, but I did enjoy seeing the beauty of the changing seasons. (And if clarification is needed: by changing seasons, I mean changing fashion seasons. Uggs to pumps to wedges to riding boots and back to Uggs...the circle of life according to Regina.)

What I know is what all those friends knew about me when they first asked the question. I'm a summer girl. I would much rather endure 120 degrees in the summer than 20 below in the winter. I will always be more happy in a tank top and shorts than layers of clothes under layers of coats. Because that's what I have to do to stay warm. [I'm] a tropical people. (That's a movie reference. I'll send a Starbucks gift card to the first person who can name the movie.)

What I also know is that living in DC gave me even more appreciation for what I love. Summertime is beautiful but it's that much brighter when it comes on the heels of a rainy spring. Summertime is warm but it's warmth is that much more appreciated when you have experienced the bitter cold of winter. You can love something and become so familiar with it that you take it for granted. When seasons of life change and shift away from what you prefer, remember that the dark times are the times that make the sun shine brighter when it returns.

Lay Down

I have a friend going through an extremely difficult trial. I absolutely hate knowing that someone I love hurts, and I can't make it better. But those are the times my prayers are most raw. Those are the times when I pray not out of obligation but out of the heaviness of my heart. My heart literally aches for her. I want to take away the pain and sadness, and I can't. There's no better place to know God than when you're helpless. It dawned on me today that she is not the only one hurting while loved ones stand nearby. And like my friend, you, too, may be holding that love at arm's length. It hurts to be wounded, but it's a pain like nothing else to let that wound be reopened. So we keep people at a distance who make us feel vulnerable. And that's what love does. It exposes a wound - not to cause more hurt but because you have to let Love see it, so Love can heal it.

One of my favorite stories in the Bible is in Mark chapter 2. I talk about it a lot not just because it's a great story; it's my story. It's about a man who was sick. He didn't have the flu; he was paralyzed. You can't really put make up on that and pretend everything is ok. It's visible. It's obvious. Everyone could see his problem, exposed for the world, and that he was helpless to fix himself. And sometimes we have to get to that place, too. That's why if you cover up the headaches, eventually they will become so debilitating that they can't be ignored. If you keep the abuse a secret, it will isolate you from the world. If you hide the turmoil in the marriage, it will grow until it feels like it will consume you. If you cover up the wound, the infection will continue to grow under the surface. Often, the infection has to become evident to others before we address it. This man's problem was clear. And a solution was no where in sight...to him.

When you're paralyzed, your viewpoint is limited to what you can see from your incapacitated position. From his mat, the man saw nowhere to turn. But his friends could see Jesus. From where they stood, they could see the answer that alluded their friend. But it's one thing to see the answer. It's another thing to get there. These men could tell the man about Jesus all day long. They could preach of other miracles he performed and people he healed. They could describe how great the man's life would be if he would go and let Jesus heal him. But all that talk would be meaningless to a man who can't move. He couldn't get himself to Jesus no matter how hard he tried or how bad he wanted to go. It was literally impossible for him to get to Jesus..on his own.

So the man did what we fight against so fiercely. He laid down, and let his friends carry him. He didn't tell them where to go or what to do. He didn't know the best route to take, and he had to admit that. He had to err to their wisdom and better view of the situation. He had to trust them. Getting to Jesus wasn't easy. The friends had to go to great lengths to help. Because they couldn't get through the crowd, the friends made a hole in the roof of the building and lowered the man to Jesus. That man couldn't walk; forget about climbing a building, making a hole and lowering himself through it. He couldn't see where to go until he let them lead him. He would have never gotten to Jesus if he forced his friends away. He would have never experienced healing without admitting he couldn't make it better on his own.

And he did experience healing. He was made completely whole! If you look closely at verse 5, you'll see one of the  most beautiful promises. It says "When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, 'Son, your sins are forgiven'." Did you catch it? He saw THEIR faith. It didn't take just the faith to believe Jesus could heal. It took a man being willing to let his friends carry him. It took all of their faith. It took steps the man couldn't see or take on his own. It took walking, climbing, digging and lowering. Together.

Sister, those people aren't standing by to watch you squirm. They are waiting and pleading for you to let them help. When you love someone, you want what's best for them. That friend or family or doctor or therapist doesn't want you to hurt anymore than you do. But they can't do anything if you hide that wound from them. They can't comfort, encourage or enlighten what you won't share. They can't carry you to Jesus if you won't lay down and let them.

Someone wants to help. Her heart is aching because she can see where you need to go and that you can't get there alone. She loves you enough to carry your cot. Will you let her?

Good Word Wednesday

"To be a good writer, you have to be a good reader."

David and I have seen a therapist for years. Nine years to be exact. If I could give a gift to the world it would be the freedom to embrace therapy. There's this unfortunate misconception that it has to be "that bad" to see a counselor. That means that millions of people are walking around each day in various states of sadness, pain, hurt and turmoil because in their minds it's not yet "that bad." It brings to mind the picture of a trip David and I took years ago. After a very busy period at work, we planned to spend a few days in Las Vegas. But by the time we got there, the toll of long hours, lack of rest and exhaustion had caught up to me. I was so sick that I barely made it to the room before passing out. Our first night in Vegas, I spent sleeping and David took a walk alone. I hated to ruin our trip, so I tried, but nothing was enjoyable. Casinos, shows, people watching on the strip - things I would normally love were hardly bearable. I was in a cool place but I could only appreciate a shadow of it. My experience was a lesser version of what was intended because my illness held me back from its full potential. It makes me sad to think of so many who aren't getting to experience the fullness of life - so many families living only a shadow of who they were meant to be. When they don't have to! With time and NyQuil, I was ready to take on the town. With grace and hard work, our families can thrive instead of just survive.

Getting the Love You Want by Dr. Harville Hendrix has been written, edited, revised and updated since 1988. It's been used to help millions of couples acknowledge, accept and work through the issues keeping them from experiencing the fullness of their potential. The book is equal parts educational material, philosophy and self-help. It not only tells you WHY your relationship is struggling, but it tells you WHAT to do and most importantly, HOW to do it.

The book is phenomenal not because it's light reading - although it is surprisingly easy to read. It's value is in the change possible both in you as an individual and your relationship if you will commit to do the work suggested. Now, just like a gym membership, it's only as effective as the time you actually work out. (You can't blame the trainer for your muffin top if you won't do the sit ups! Believe me. I've tried. He laughed at me.) But if you are willing to let some therapeutic light shine on your past, the way you think and how it's affecting your life, I promise it will change you from the inside out.

Therapy is expensive. Getting the Love You Want is about $13.00 on Amazon -- $8.00 if you get the Kindle version! :o)

Lilly's Day

A year ago, I posted a letter from their baby girl to my friends who lost her. The letter has been used to comfort parents who lost babies and encourage women considering abortion. In all those cases of all those moms and dads, not once has someone written to tell me that it gets easier. No one has said it becomes simple and painless to do what's best for your child when it tears you apart. Lilly will always be gone, so there will always be a void in our lives that she would have filled. It doesn't get easier to lose a child. It doesn't get easier to go through a day and not miss her. IT doesn't get easier. But YOU get stronger.

Today is Lilly's birthday...and the day she died. Birthdays are usually happy occasions. They are the day we celebrate a life beginning and the hope of the future. They are filled with cakes and balloons and colors and joy. They are a day to look back at the last year and look forward to the next. They are a day to be thankful.

We all have tears to shed today because the space in our lives Lilly would have filled is still empty. That sadness doesn't go away. But today, my prayer for those who know the pain of losing a child is that today - Lilly's day - will be a day to be thankful.

I'm thankful that Lilly Claire spent all her time on earth tucked safely under her mama's heart.
I'm thankful that even in that place that hurts, we can celebrate her day.

I'm thankful for the hope of a future where we understand God's comfort in a way we couldn't before because we hadn't needed it so profoundly. 

I'm thankful that we can have cake and balloons and colors and joy because Lilly is our constant reminder of God's faithfulness. She is the picture in our hearts of what it means to trust Him beyond what you can see or think or feel. 

I'm thankful that we can look at the last year and see every step of hurt where we were carried. 

I'm thankful that we can look forward to the next year and know we are stronger than we were before.
We can be thankful - not in a fake way, not with empty platitudes, not as those who take life for granted. We can be thankful that one little girl changed us forever.

Losing a baby doesn't get easier. Sometimes the hurt comes even when we pray with all we have that it will be different.  IT doesn't get easier. But YOU get stronger.

And we have Lilly to thank for reminding us of that.

Notes from Family Fun Fest

Saturday morning, after donuts and College Gameday, David, Brynna and I headed out for some family fun. We had lunch at a little burger place we've grown to love that should be featured on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. How do I suggest that? Food Network, are you listening? Little Bitty Burger Barn! (I realize that I just disclosed that we ate donuts for breakfast and burgers for lunch. I can also disclose that both were delicious!)

Anyway, so after lunch we went to a little Family Fun Fest at City Centre. For my DMV friends, it's like Reston Town Center -  lots of stores and restaurants, surrounded by lofts and condos with a few open areas. In one of the open areas, they had booths set up with info on everything from hospitals to an animal rescue shelter. (I think that's what that was. There was a chihuahua named Pinky giving kisses for $1. ?? I don't make this stuff up. I just report the news, people.) The festival was sponsored by a kids magazine, so there were lots of things to interest little people - balloons, face painting, radio Disney, etc.

I took exhaustive notes...

1. Houston is not located on the east coast. It seems elementary. You'd think given that I'm from the midwest and love warm weather, I am more acclimated to Texas weather than DC. But apparently I'm still adjusting. It's November. It was 85 degrees. My sweatshirt was unnecessary.

2. Seasonal fashion rules are not universal. While it's obvious that seasons in the South are different from those on the east coast, I was under the impression that certain principles were held across regions. For instance...whether you are fashion savvy or not, you've probably heard the recommendation not to wear white after Labor Day. Let me tell you what else is not recommended after Labor Day - sun dresses, flip flops, tank tops and shorts (of all makes and models). There's no written law punishable by death or anything, but it's a good rule of thumb, folks. Let's dress responsibly!

3. A guy on stilts is highly entertaining. Highly. For hours. I'm hiring a guy to come walk around my backyard next week.

Exhibit A

4. Face Painting is a skill. If you can't paint on paper, you probably can't paint on the face of a sweaty, fidgeting kid. HOWEVER (this is key) - children do not care. Brynna was willing to wait in line for 45 minutes to ask for a bunny. I thought she meant on her cheek, but she wanted her whole face like a bunny face. (Sidenote: I fully admit that I was likely over-compensating for a lack of face painting experiences as a child.) When the lady answered, "A bunny? Ok!" I took that to mean she had done this before. I was wrong. I knew we were in for a treat when she covered Brynna's face white and then looked at me and said, "What does a bunny really look like?" I'm pretty sure she still doesn't know.

5. Belly dancing is not for everyone. As part of the exhibitions, two different dance schools brought kids to perform. From a more traditional dance academy, we watched adorable little people make valiant efforts to grand jete and plie. From another performing arts school, we saw miniature flamenco, salsa and belly dancers. I understand the cultural significance but was still slightly concerned about little girls performing such a provocative style of dance in the middle of hundreds of strangers. And then came the adults. Belly dancing. In the middle of hundreds of strangers. I'm not going to provide commentary, but I am going to say: belly dancing is not for everyone.

For Eyewitness News, I'm Regina Johnston. Good night.

Better to Give Than Receive

Brynna had her costume (back) on and started asking to go trick-or-treating about 4:30 yesterday afternoon. I say "back" on because she had already been a ladybug earlier that morning to gymnastics. She also went to school in costume, twice to church and around the house the day it came in the mail "just because." Say the words "dress up" and she's there. No explanation needed.

She was bouncing around the house, couldn't sit still to eat and when her Aunt Vikki called to Skype, she spent 4 whole minutes screaming excitedly and running in circles. (I'm kind of painting a picture of a puppy...) With all that enthusiasm, you'd think she loves candy. Or you'd assume that we had big plans to meet up with friends or go to a particular event. The answer is D: none of the above. We had already done all our fun with friends, so the plan was to walk around the neighborhood and be back for regular bedtime.

We held her off until 6:30 - a feat in and of itself. David looked over at me and said "Are you sure you want to stay and hand out candy? Do you want to walk with her?" At this point I introduced myself to the man I've been married to for 12 years because clearly he had forgotten who I am. Stay in a quiet house, watch NCIS and pause occasionally to greet cute neighbors...or walk. Outside. Surrounded by little people hopped up on sugar. Hmmmmm....let me take a minute to think.......(I can fill you in on last week's NCIS if you're interested.)

David and Brynna made the rounds and she ended up with a bucket loaded with candy that she will never touch. They then went quickly over to her grandparents' neighborhood so she could ring their doorbell. While there, they walked to a few houses, at which point Brynna started doing what she does best. She gave it away. She would ring the doorbell, and when it opened with an adult ready to give her candy, she reached in her bucket, pulled out a handful and said "This is for you! Happy Halloween!" She repeated this until Daddy said it was time to go home. When she got back, I said she couldn't answer the door until she was ready for bed. She hurried like she never has before so she could be there for the next Captain America that came to the door. And when Brynna gives, it's not a piece or two of candy. She reached into the bowl and grabbed all her little hands could hold, and kid after kid, she gave it away. I asked if she wanted to keep some of the M&Ms (the one thing she will eat). She said "No, Mama. I want more kids to come so I can give them more."

How different would our lives be if we let ourselves be thrilled with excitement just to dance in a tutu?
How much joy would we have if we didn't need a "thing" to motivate us to go say hi to the neighbors?
How much more would we GET if GIVING was our goal?

When was the last time you rushed just to be there to bless someone else?
When did you last give away the very thing you had been given?

There is wisdom in the faith of a child. Don't miss it. They are handing it out like candy. :)