Things I Thought I'd Never

Overcoming Regret: Grace Abounds

October 5, 2017

Taken during the solar eclipse

A dear sister-friend and I were having a conversation recently. We realized that we are in a season of life that appeared like “a thief in the night”. It jarred us. Out of nowhere, that sweet baby niece I first held at 7 weeks old, is a 19 year-old in college. Former elementary and middle school students that I taught, are now establishing careers, marrying, parenting and “adulting”. I speak in terms of having life-long friends that I have known for decades. Decades.

These days, I often find myself asking some version of “How did this happen???!”

Frustratingly, an unwanted guest seems to enjoy hanging out with me during this season. He’s always been there, but there is something about having more decades behind you, than you may have ahead of you (but, my grandfather lived to be 102 years old, so anything is possible) that makes his presence more pronounced. He creeps in when I’m lying awake at 2am. He whispers in my ear as I scroll through social media or reminisce with old friends about days long past and dreams once held. He has an uncanny knack for turning a joyful celebration into a time of mourning.

His name is Regret.

We’ve been spending waaaaay too much time together lately, and he has just about drained the life out of me. He has stifled growth and smothered motivation. He has reminded me of failures and slights. And in response, I have grieved, whined, complained, grumbled and given him ample opportunities to make himself at home.

What I have not done is abided in Christ.

As much as I like to choose a different motivational word of the year, God keeps thrusting me back into “Abide”. I finally understand. It’s because abiding in Him is not to be a fashionable goal for the year. It is a commitment for a lifetime.

I have woefully approached abiding in Christ as an inconvenience. Dragging out of bed in the mornings because I “have” to get up before the kids. Seeking the Lord for assistance as a last resort.

It’s such a contrast to how my children function in the morning. When they awake, even when tired, they come bursting into our room with enthusiasm, jumping on the bed to cuddle and kiss. Because I’m their momma and they love me.

I am not their last resort when in a difficult situation. I am their first solution, because they expect me to come to their aid. Based upon past experiences, they have faith in me.

When they are hurting, even when I discipline them, they run to me, for hugs, kisses, words of encouragement. They find comfort in abiding, even when circumstances are not favorable.

These littles ones have been teaching me how to abide for years, and I have completely ignored it.

So, you may have wondered where I have been since January.

Living with Regret. For tasks left incomplete, goals not fulfilled, dreams not pursued, fears that have controlled and basically a life not fully lived.

The irony is, regret often only leads to more regret.

But then, Grace intervenes.

The Grace of a God who granted a glimpse of His plan of redemption in the midst of exacting consequences for the first sin in Genesis 3.

The Grace of a God who “proves his own love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

The Grace of a God who assures us “that He who started a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6)

Grace gives hope, when Regret sets out to strangle it.

Regret tells me that my life is in my own hands.

Grace reminds me that “all my days were written in your book and planned before a single one of them began.”(Psalm 139:16)

I can do nothing about the past, but learn from it.

In doing so, I choose to release Regret’s hand, trusting that God’s “right hand will hold me fast.” (Psalm 139:10)

Beware of the False Reset

January 6, 2017

January.

This is the month of earnest pleas, honest assessments, and lofty goals. We just had 12 months of “whatever just happened”,

in our past, and we are determined to make the next twelve better, grander.

This will be “our year, we say.

So we hit the reset button.

Again.

Here’s the thing I learned about my own personal reset button. We relocated from Richmond, California to Atlanta, Georgia last summer. While the idea of moving had been swimming around in our minds for over a month, the actual move occurred rather quickly. Once the date was set, time sped up, and sent us spinning.

One of the things that happened to me in the mind swimming period was I began to look forward to the move as a type of reset. After several moves, I’ve come to realize that all moves and new beginnings are a reset of sorts. That is to be expected. But, I’d developed an unrealistic and perhaps, unhealthy expectation.

See, there are some things that I wanted to be different in my life once I moved. I wanted to be more consistent, read more, write more, be kinder, get my life together, etc. Someone said, “The cool thing about moving to a new place is you get to re-invent yourself.”

Yeah. Not really.

Who I was in California, I am in Georgia. I’m still an extroverted introvert who will sit, observe and evaluate a situation before diving in. I’m still rather laid back…until the moment that I’m not. My strengths and struggles are the same. The location is different, the triggers may be wrapped in different packages, and the opportunities to express both sides of the coin may present themselves in different ways.

But. At the end of the day, I am who I am.

That gets me to my next point.

You know how the reset button works.

You’re on a device and it freezes and the only way to progress is to reset the device.

You are using an appliance, and decide to plug in another. Or, you utilize an outlet that you vaguely remember tripped the last time you used it. But, you chance it anyway. What happens? You trip the breaker and have to hit the reset button.

But, think about it.

You knew before you hit the reset button that something was not quite right. The device warns you with weird glitches and momentary freezes. There is a warning that a problem exists and you need to deal with it – sooner or later.

And tripping the breaker? You knew what happened the last time you used it. But convenience (or laziness) convinced you to try it even though you knew the result.

I propose that many of the reset buttons we wait for – the new year, the new job, the new relationship, a move – we shouldn’t need.

We already know who we are.

For whatever reasons, we wait until we are forced to deal with the inevitable, instead of taking precautionary steps along the way to address our issues.

We don’t need a new beginning to do what we know we need to do.

Pressing the reset button does not work if you keep doing the same thing, but expect different results.

I’ve heard that they call that insanity.

That is what I had to face once getting to Atlanta. I was still…me. If I didn’t make a conscious decision, followed up with conscientious effort to change, pressing the reset button was futile.

And temporary.

And frustrating.

The same issues that plagued me in California (and Tennessee, and Florida, and…) would still plague me here. The only thing that changed was the locale.

I needed a heart change. I needed to see that I did not want some tragedy to bring me to my knees. I needed to want change.

I needed to know (and feel) that I cannot begin my days without prayer. My entire morning is thrown off without surrendering my day to God. A daily reset or sorts. My kids don’t know to ask if I’ve prayed, but they can definitely feel if I haven’t.

I needed to know that my word from two years ago – abide- was not just for that year. It is for a lifetime – “apart from <Him> I can do nothing” (that has eternal, long-lasting value). Last year isn’t the only year I need to “choose joy”. That’s a lifetime virtue.

I needed to see that misusing my time, talents and resources didn’t just affect me – it impacts my husband, my children, friends, and others who do not get what I am supposed to give because I am choosing to be selfish/lazy/uninvolved/checked out.

So, as you enter 2017, only you and God REALLY know what you need to work on. It’s been that nagging voice for ~~days, weeks, months~~, years.

You know that relationship you are supposed to mend.

That attitude you need to change.

That habit you need to break.

That habit you need to develop.

That thing you need to pursue.

Do it.

Reset.

That’s ok.

But, for the love of God, and His purpose for your life in the lives of others, do it like you mean it. For real.

What Do You Do With Your Broken Heart?

December 14, 2016

My friend Sandy and I with Ann Voskamp, at a book signing for The Broken Way.

Ann Voskamp and I.

I don’t know that we could be more different.

She grew up on a pig farm in Canada.

I grew up on the south side of Chicago.

Her desire is to “die where she was born”.

I have recently moved to my sixth state.

Her writing is described as poetic as she presents gifts of bouquets that cause women to slow down and smell the roses.

I am more of a “box of chocolates” writer – you never know what type of mood you will get.

Of course there is the obvious- she’s white. I’m black.

But, in our current climate, when differences in opinion, status, race, political stances and beliefs are tearing apart churches, families, communities…the nation, it is imperative to be reminded of our unifiers. That is what I believe Ann Voskamp does in The Broken Way, A Daring Path into the Abundant Life.

She reminds us of our unifiers…

Jesus, and

Brokenness

Jesus… who died on the cross for all of our sins, did not qualify His willingness to do so based upon a person’s nationality, gender, class, color or if we deserved it – “while we were yet sinners, Christ died.”

Our only requirement for acceptance into the family of God is faith, alone. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten so that whosoever believes on him shall not perish or have everlasting life.” (John 3:16).

Brokenness… can come in the form of a lost job right before the holidays. A mother weeping over the loss of a child. A wife mourning her husband. A people attacked by their own leader. A years-long prayer, still unanswered. An illness unhealed. A loved one choosing a painful path. You choosing a painful path. Brokenness comes in different shapes and sizes, appears in different circumstances and lasts for different lengths of time, but everyone experiences it. No one is exempt.

You may remember, I was on the launch team for The Broken Way and have processed it over the last few months. Various situations seem to point me back to her words. As I read the news, and hear of the things that are breaking the hearts of those around me, I am reminded that what Ann has done is show how our Jesus meets and answers our brokenness, and how we are used in the process.

We are often so concerned about self-preservation that we often miss the blessing in being broken and given to others. She calls it to become “cruciform” “to let your life become shaped like a cross…to become more fully human…most fully like Christ.” You know, the Christ who left the comfort of heaven, and considered equality with God something not to be grasped, but humbled Himself. The One who knew He would be rejected, still choosing to die for the good for the rejecters. The One chose to die, because in His death He would bring life. Cruciform.

“Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”

Ironically, it is the death that allows for communion, for fellowship – koinonia – to stand side by side with another. I remember that it was in one of the darkest seasons of my life, when I chose not to hide behind fake smiles, and rote platitudes, and decided to be “real” in the struggle, that I experienced some of the most life-giving relationships. It is also because of that time that I am able to encourage others who find themselves in similar straits. Giving up one thing – be it pride, privacy, comfort, material things – somehow seems to make room for others. I cannot explain it, nor do I understand it.

Have you noticed how givers seem to be much more content than hoarders? Have you met those who give the little they have without worrying about whether they will lack? Have you examined their relationships? Both the depth and the breadth?

Who are people often drawn to? The authentic ones, the honest ones, the ones who give of themselves – their time, space, energy, honesty, their hearts.

Those who give their lives for the good to of others- not out of obligation, or because they are forced, guilted or bullied into it, but because it is who they are, because they love others.

They choose to Be the Gift.

These days seem to lend themselves to more and more brokenness. And many of us, seem to be scrambling more and more to preserve what little semblance of comfort we think we can create in order to avoid it.

Let me help you – we can’t avoid it. Brokenness will come. Either you will be broken, or someone you know will be.

It’s because this world is broken – from your home, to the one next door, the community in which you live, to the one up the street, Any State, USA to Aleppo. Broken.

But, God gives His followers a unique opportunity in the midst of the brokenness to experience communion – with Him as we join what He is doing – with others as we help bear their burden (because one day they may be the ones to help bear ours).

We can be the gift – in immediate ways such as leaving dollars near the toy section at the dollar store (as Ann shares in her book), to buying a meal for the person behind you in line, to giving a coat to a child, to sitting with a friend who is in a hard space, or being a voice for those whose voices are silenced. Or in ways that require planning – giving to an organization, taking a trip to help those in need, moving to an area that need the hands and feet of Jesus. Opportunities abound.

So as we approach Christmas, let me encourage you to consider that perhaps what is more important than buying the right gift, is to “Be the Gift.”

For many, this time of year is tremendously difficult (I know, I have been there). If you are currently in a season of brokenness, please run to the One who knows what it means to be fully broken. He knows. What do you do with your one broken heart? Ask Him to provide ways you can somehow bring life to others in the midst of whatever type of death you are experiencing.

For those who are not in a season of brokenness. Give God thanks for the reprieve. And ask for ways to leverage your current state for the healing and life of others.

May God’s grace be with you.

*as part of the launch team, I was given a copy of the book for review.

*this post contains affiliate links*

Five Years and Five Words

November 30, 2016

2012- Survive

2013 – Survive

2014 – Thrive

2015 – Abide

2016 – Choose Joy

These were my words from the last five years.

Some of them I chose (like, choose joy), others were chosen for me (survive). I think back to the challenges of 2012 and 2013 – moving from Tennessee to California, jobs falling through, staying in 5 different places in 7 months with a toddler, getting pregnant in the midst of the shuffle, discovering it was twins, tenuous relationships, having 3 children under 3. As we gratefully placed one toe over the line into relief, I asked Reggie what he thought the theme of those years were.

Survival.

It literally took everything in us to just fight for survival – for our lives, our family, our sanity, our faith.

Then came 2014. At some point during the year, we looked back and realized that we were no longer in survival mode. We could breathe. We were laughing more than crying. We.had.our.own.place!!! We were thriving – at work, in ministry, in our family, with relationships. Ironically, there was an ivy that I’d had for 16 years. Over the years, this plant seemed to mirror my spiritual and mental state. That year we were in survival mode, the year we felt as though we were dying. It was dying.

Miraculously, after months of little nurturing, no water, little sun, we decided to see what would happen if we placed it in the window. Gave it sun. Watered it.

It thrived.

And during the time it began to thrive, we thrived.

As 2014 began to morph into 2015, I remember looking at that plant. Once we abandoned survival mode, we decided to take efforts to tend to it, and provide what it needed. It grew – it thrived. Each vine thrived as it was connected to the main source. I was reminded of John 15:4-5 “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” There, my word for 2015 was birthed.

Abide.

The only way we would continue to thrive, would be by learning to abide.

Then. 2016. On December 25, 2015, I decided that my word for 2016 would be “choose joy”. We had learned to survive, experienced a season of thriving and were learning to abide, but I wanted to learn how to do this without anxiety and fear. I wanted to trust, to be at peace, to understand what it meant to “choose joy”. By January 2, I was done with choosing joy. It seemed as though everything that came at me that week – ER visit for leg pains, busted transmission in our fairly new van, husband with an allergic reaction – was hell bent on bringing out the opposite. But, we made it. I faltered a lot. Failed miserably. But, as we approach the end of the this year, I am understanding better how to take practical steps towards applying that biblical truth – by giving thanks – often.

So, here we are. The end of 2016. I’ve decided that my word for next year will be “Pursue”. It’s a loaded phrase and I’m still fleshing out what that will mean for me. But, if history serves as any type of indicator…

Stay tuned…

You Don’t Hold Your Bootstraps

November 29, 2016

I used to be a loner of sorts. I enjoyed people, but had developed an attitude that I didn’t really need people in order to accomplish things in this life.

That’s a lie.

Our culture is one that prides itself on accomplishments. And, the more independent you are in the quest and the longer your bootstraps are that you pull yourself up by, the better.

Except.

You don’t.

The reality is, regardless of how high you’ve pulled your bootstrap, someone along the way has helped you grasp them. The family you were born into, if a functional one, spurred you on in encouragement and provision. If dysfunctional, it was in disdain and determination to rise above the craziness and pain. But, it was a bootstrap pulled.

Somewhere along the way, someone encouraged you – a teacher, a parent, a mentor, a friend, a spouse, a child, a complete stranger. But someone said something to give you courage to pursue what you pursued. A bootstrap pulled.

There was money available from somewhere.

The idea came from an experience with someone.

You were in the right place, at the right time, with the right person, and that set the wheels in motion to accomplish what you accomplished. A bootstrap pulled.

The irony is, too often, once our bootstraps have been pulled by another, we cut them off. We look at our boots and the success we have achieved in them and create a narrative about our greatness, our intelligence, our fortitude, our brilliance. We live in a place of convenient amnesia and self-perceived awesomeness. And become primed for a fall of epic proportions.

We’ve seen it it again and again.

King David’s pride in 2 Samuel in counting “his” people led to a plague that killed 70,000 of them.

Nebuchadnezzar’s claim of magnificence in Daniel, led to his being humbled by losing his sanity and living like a wild animal for a number of years.

Napoleon Bonaparte’s domination and accumulation of power, with him leading thousands of men, ended with him dying alone in exile on a damp, dreary island.

You. Remember that time you exalted yourself in an argument or situation or life, and some event occurred to remind you that you really weren’t as great as you thought you were?

It’s because we really don’t control the bootstraps. We pull them up. There are people who assist us with pulling them, grasping them, but ultimately, God is the one holding them. He is the One who allows what He allows, for whatever reason and however long He allows it.

Whether one is a man after his own heart, like David, or one who refuses to believe in His existence and worships idols, like Nebuchadnezzar, three truths stand out…

God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble. (James 4:6)

For He knows our frame, He remembers that we are dust. (Psalm 103:14)

You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. (James 4:14)

Perhaps we would do well to remember that the next time we grab our boots.

When Dreams Look Deferred

November 28, 2016

Harlem

By Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

like a raisin in the sun

Or fester like a sore—

And then run

Does it stink like rotten meat

Or crust and sugar over—

like a syrupy sweet

Maybe it just sags

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

I’ve been thinking about dreams lately.

Maybe it’s a mid-life crisis.

Maybe it’s the approaching year-end.

Perhaps it’s the daily looking down at 3 small children who are daily looking up at me with dreams in their eyes…with whole lives full of dreams in front of them (Lord willing, as my Bigma would say).

It could be moving – again – that sparks an excitement about new beginnings and starting over and leaving the old behind. The old, that though filled with memories of precious times with amazing people, also has a lingering smell of darkness.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because I was asked recently, “What is your wildest dream?”

And, I couldn’t answer it.

So, I’ve been pondering that.

What happened to my dreams of old?

Did the busy-ness of life squeeze them out?

Did other priorities push them aside, telling them that they weren’t important enough for consideration?

Was it too much work to achieve them?

Did fear tell me that they couldn’t be done?

Did my dreams dry up? Spoil? Are they burdens that pull me down as I think about achieving the impossible, because isn’t that what dreams are? Things that we want to see happen that seem unrealistic to achieve so they remain dreams instead of reality?

I’m smiling now. You can’t see it. And my line of questioning may not seem as though that is my mood. But it is, because I’m learning something about dreams, my dreams at least.

My dreams, my God-given dreams – not my fantasies or my goals – but dreams, are often coming to fruition all around me.

I just don’t always realize it because they aren’t packaged in a way that I think or the timing is beyond my statue of limitations.

But, God doesn’t have limits.

I smile because I’m thinking of the dreams that Joseph had and how the manifestation of them would not only come years later, but after years of slavery and imprisonment.

I smile because I think of Abraham who was told that he would have a son, but it would be 25 years before it came to pass. Even Sara laughed when she heard it was to be.

I smile because I came across a journal written years ago, when my life was in limbo and I had stepped out of the boat to walk on water like Peter, and like Peter I started sinking, and things were uncertain, and questions were unanswered and all I knew was I was to “build houses and plant gardens” while in that exile of sorts. I saw that journal recently. In it, I had written, “All I want to do is write, and teach and have babies.”

I smile because I was the last person my family expected to have kids, because I wasn’t the “nurturing type”, so that had to be a God-dream – have babies. And, I have babies, y’all. 3 of them.

Last week, I had the opportunity to do some training and facilitating. Both were opportunities that I did not pursue, because I did not know they existed. And, both seemed tailor made for how God has wired me, so much so that I was asked if this was my occupation. Teaching.

And, this month, I committed to writing every day for 30 days straight, and this is the 28th day, and unless something crazy happens, I will make it. I have had words when I thought I would run out. I have been in tears as someone has been there to encourage me to keep writing every time I decided to just quit. Writing.

So, that’s what I’m learning about my dreams. They aren’t mine. They are things that God has wired me for, planted in me, experiences He has given, people I have met in places I have lived all coming together in a way to make sure that I know that when these dreams come true, it is not because of anything I have manipulated, but because He is faithful.

He is faithful.

“For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6

6 Advent Devotionals for Kids

November 27, 2016

Today is the official beginning of Advent, the period of time in which Christian tradition celebrates the first “coming” (which is what the word “advent” means) of Christ – His birth.

I love traditions, and building familial bonds through experiences, and Advent season lends itself to this perfectly. However, as I began to research ways to celebrate Advent season with children, I quickly became overwhelmed (a Google search reveals 1000+ Pinterest ideas). There were some traditions that light candles on an Advent wreath on Sundays (beginning with the fourth Sunday from Christmas or closest to November 30), others began on December 1, some did biblical readings, others read a different Christmas themed children’s book every day, while still others were filled with crafts and activities. So many ideas to choose from, that I initially didn’t choose any.

Then, a few years ago, I became fixated on creating my own Advent calendar. Enoch was still eating baby food, and I came across this craft that used baby food jars to create an Advent calendar shaped like a tree. Such a wonderful, creative, resourceful idea, that I decided to do it. That first year, I didn’t get the calendar completed until the middle of December. The next year I was excited because the calendar was complete and all I needed to do was fill each of the 24 jars with a Christmas related activity. That was a great idea, on paper. In practice, I didn’t plan properly and baking cookies, completing a craft, or going to view Christmas lights back to back became too much for us to manage. Then, I decided to use the 24 book idea – until the library I used didn’t have most of the books I needed.

So, here we are today. And, I’ve decided to go back to the basics. Advent was designed to focus on the coming of Christ. To celebrate the arrival of the One who would eventually die for our sins and make it possible for us to be in relationship with God. We will not divorce the joy of the festivities from scripture reading, because celebration is found throughout Scripture. But, I am simplifying and not overwhelming myself (let’s face it, being anxious about getting it all done is the antithesis of the season).

I left the baby food jar Advent calendar in storage and will grab 3 chocolate Advent calendars from Trader Joes.

And, we will celebrate using an Advent devotional with the kids – the basics.

I’ve looked into a few options – just 6 – and listed them here, so that you don’t have to start from scratch (you are welcome).

Advent Catechism on Story Catechism which engages questions and answers to converse with children about the story of Jesus.

Advent Readings for the Very Young on Part of the Main, uses this Playmobil nativity scene (with the three wise men). Each day children build upon the nativity scene by adding a figure, which coincides with a short reflection, prayer, and additional Bible passages.

The Best of All Kids’ Advent Devotional by the Gathering Church, is a weekly devotional that incorporates Christmas carols and readings adapted from the The Jesus Storybook Bible: Every Story Whispers His Name>.

Celebrate Advent Using the Jesus Storybook Bible by Adriel Booker, is a printable reading plan that utilizes stories from The Jesus Storybook Bible. There are 21 Old Testament stories, and three New Testament stories leading up to the birth of Christ. It is one of the best children’s bibles available. Beautiful illustrations, and wonderful stories that all point to the coming of Christ.

Printable Advent Reading Plan on Not Consumed is a free daily printable that highlights one passage a day to be read during the month of December.

Truth In The Tinsel by ohAmanda.com is a hands-on devotional that provides themes or clues for each day, that coincide with bible passages. Each day includes a craft for children to make. The website includes a video telling you how to use the book, and the book itself provides a list of needed supplies and templates to be used for the craft.

We landed on the Truth in the Tinsel, for this year. I love the idea of combining a craft with the bible reading, in addition to conversation starters and other suggestions. Also, as much as I love the Jesus Storybook Bible, it is better suited for school age children (because of vocabulary and length of stories), so we will give it another year for the girls.

Bonus:

Now, I still want to include fun activities to do with our kids along the way. Adriel Booker has created the Ultimate List of Family Advent Activities and Christmas Countdown Fun. 150+ activities divided into categories like serving, faith-based, outings, etc.

Stay tuned for updates as we journey through this month.

Happy Advent Season!

*post includes affiliate links*

Celebrating Christmas: The Gift of Experiences

November 26, 2016

This is a last minute photo shoot we decided to do the last time our families were together for Christmas, three years ago. Our girls’ first Christmas.

I cannot remember when it happened, or how, or if it just developed naturally. But somewhere in the few years that we have been parents, we decided to focus on celebrating experiences with our children, above stressing over things.

I don’t know if the loss of a mother at an early age influenced that (for me).

Or perhaps the experience of growing up with a father who is a quadriplegic (for my husband).

Or, seeing that after a few ~~months, weeks, days,~~ hours, of playing with things, the things are broken, lost, neglected, or buried beneath the sea of other things.

Now, don’t misunderstand, we aren’t Scrooges. Our children have toys, plenty of them (if only you could see this playroom). And, we buy some of them – because seeing their responses brings us joy. However, we came to the conclusion that whenever we talk about times growing up with our families, very rarely do we talk about the stuff we received (unless it was long-term desire fulfilled – like my husband’s Erector set). Most of the time our discussions are about experiences – trips that we took – be it Wisconsin Dells or Disney World, or “down south” to Mississippi or Arkansas or “up” to Michigan. I recall bike rides to the corner store with my parents, trips to museums. Reggie talks about gatherings at his grandmothers’ homes.

Experiences.

I think, in the back of our minds, we also realize that life is short…and unpredictable. A 32 year-old can go to the doctor for a lump in February, and be gone by November. A mom can go to the hospital for stomach pains, and be diagnosed with cancer. A dad can take a fall, and end up paralyzed. A ride to school can end in tragedy. Life is short. And unpredictable. And when the unpredictable happens, the things aren’t what we talk about – it’s the experiences – the conversations, the jokes, the laughter, how they made us feel.

So, for the last few years, instead of expensive birthday parties for Enoch, we did simple celebrations with friends, then took family trips – to Monterey, CA and San Diego, CA. Without question, these are some of our best memories as a family to date. This year we traveled to Tennessee so that he had a chance to see grandparents on his birthday for the first time.

Experiences.

Monterey Aquarium 2014

Before we had children, we were intrigued by one family’s Christmas gifting tradition. That family had six children, so you can imagine the stuff they would accumulate. Over time, we have heard several iterations of it, but we landed on…

Something you want (a requested toy – within reason and budget)
Something you need (could be clothes, shoes, etc.)
Something to share (this year will be a membership to the zoo, because experiences – although we bought a keyboard in the past, because music and experiences)
Something to read (books – either favorites read throughout the year, or favorite topic or series).

Nothing is permanent, as life and family dynamics are, well, dynamic. We still have a young family, so I am always curious to hear from others. I have seen fun, and thought-provoking traditions over the years – pajama nights, Advent readings, activities and celebrations, family projects, Christmas Eve traditions, etc.

I do believe, that it is these traditions, these experiences, that help bond families. These are the things that children pass on, the stories they tell their children. I’m realizing that healthy families and relationships do not develop haphazardly. They are fought for and hard won. They are prepared for, thought through, worked out and developed. And, a lot of this happens through…experiences.

So, in the spirit of learning and sharing…

What traditions do you have (or have you had)?

What things did your family grow up doing that you have incorporated into your own?

Best Moments: Reunited

November 25, 2016

This has been a busy week. As Thanksgiving week comes to a close, here are a few of my best moments…

Full Circle Moment

I met this woman several years ago, when I was a new seminary student. Since that time, she has been instrumental in helping me navigate various stages of life, encouraging me to pursue dreams, and use my gifts. For the first time ever, we had the opportunity to teach at the same event, and participated on a panel together. There are unexpected moments in life, those times when God replays various scenes for you to see His hand. The panel was one of those times. As a couple of people asked questions about handling dark times in life, and vulnerability in teaching, how sweet it was to be able point to one another as tangible examples about the importance of having life-giving, authentic friendships.

This picture pretty much captures all of the children’s personalities perfectly.

Best Video

I came across this video from Faithwire on Facebook this week. Perfect for Thanksgiving week. To think of the challenges that would come from being separated from my husband – alone, pregnant – and the feelings of powerlessness knowing there was nothing I could do about it. For that separation to turn into four years. To somehow desperately hold onto to faith, to trust that one day God could reunite us. Seeing this video helps put life in perspective.

Give Thanks In All Things

This week, Give Thanks In All Things, my first post on a new website created by my dear friend/sister/girl, Sandy Hafeez, went live. The above moments are perfect examples of why Life Across The Table exists. We have no idea what life will throw at us. But, in my life, the life of the mother in video, and many others, we have needed other women to help us thrive, and in some cases, to just help us survive. That is what Life Across the Table is all about – women who want to inspire, encourage and equip women to inspire, encourage and equip other woman in their lives – so together we all may thrive. Check it out!

Thanksgiving Roll Call

November 24, 2016

Another Thanksgiving. More food. More family. More laughter. More reflecting.

As I reflected on the years of holidays past, I decided to do a Thanksgiving roll call of sorts.

Here goes…

Hardest Thanksgiving

My hardest thanksgiving was the year after my mother passed away. She died in October, and I remember dreading the holidays. How could we celebrate when the most important woman in our lives just died? How could we eat dinner, knowing that her signature dishes – lasagna and German chocolate cake – were missing from the line-up? What laughter could there be without hearing hers mingled in after a joke told by one of her brothers? So, that year, we decided to not do Thanksgiving at home in Chicago. We had relatives in Mississippi, so my sister and I decided that we needed to be with them. One of the best decisions we made. We always loved being with them. But, that year, they loved us well. Space to grieve as we needed, laugh as we wanted, rest. But, not having the constant reminders and the “remember whens” was life-giving. Two decades later, I am still grateful.

To those of you who may be experiencing your first (or second or third, etc.) holiday season without a loved one. I’m sorry. It’s hard. It’s so hard. Do what you need to do to grieve. Don’t be strong. Be real. One day. It will get easier. You won’t forget, but the pain will not be as intense, the void will not be as breath-taking. God’s grace to you. May He send people to hold you, sit with you, let you cry, or just be.

Craziest Thanksgiving Preparation

2009. I was in an awful place emotionally. We had miscarried the previous year and I was disappointed that we had not conceived again yet (not to mention I had other health issues that could not seem to get resolved). We decided to host Thanksgiving at our home that year. I was running errands in preparation, and as I reflected on the year, yelled out in frustration to God, “Why pray???! You’re going to do what you want anyway! I give up. Just do what you want. Fine.”

I walk into the house with my husband sitting on the couch with his leg propped up on the ottoman. “I put my foot through the ceiling.” Still irritated (and clearly not listening), I respond, “Ok. Fine”. I walk into the bedroom, and look up. There it was. A hole. The size of a man’s foot. In the ceiling. A husband. With a badly sprained ankle. And people coming. With food that needed to be cooked, a home that need to be cleaned.

“God. I take it all back.”

Sweetest Thanksgiving

2010. A year after the above incident – the one when I lamented about the inability to conceive, and shook my fist at God. Just one year later, we were bringing home our Thanksgiving baby. Enoch was born the Saturday before Thanksgiving, and we brought him home that Monday. Prior to his arrival, we thought it would be a great idea to have our families join us for Thanksgiving (he was due November 12). That turned out to not be the best laid plan – no one can prepare you for how hormonal and emotional you will be those first few days/weeks/months. However, the memories of being surrounded by both of our families who were as excited as we were about meeting this child we never expected was priceless…even if I did spend a significant amount of Thanksgiving Day locked in my room, rocking the baby and inexplicably crying at random times. I would not trade that Thanksgiving for anything. To see my grandfather, holding my first child, in my first home is a memory I will always treasure.

Worst Thanksgiving Dish

In my family, when someone says they are bringing cobbler, there is just one type expected – peach. So, when a relative said that was her contribution, it was scratched off the potluck list – with excitement. Dessert time comes around and out comes the cobbler. We gathered around, grabbed spoons, plates, and waited. The cut was made. What is that??? Sweet potato. See. We do sweet potato pies OR peach cobbler, but not a sweet potato cobbler. To this day, I don’t know that anyone knows how it tasted, because after the disappointment people refused to eat it.

Favorite Thanksgiving

Too many to choose. Over the years I have met some pretty amazing people. We have had some pretty amazing times. I’m grateful for those who took me in as a single woman living far away from home. Grateful for those who gave us examples of what it looked to host Thanksgiving when we were a young married couple. I so appreciate those who accepted invitations to join us for Thanksgiving when we hosted at our home. And those who grafted us in as family, where they were, we were invited to be – because… family.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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