I like to talk. I get excited. I like to ask questions and share stories. Lots of big hand gestures. Maybe you too? This can be a strength when you want to connect with people, but…
Ever leave a party and stress about that you said too much?
Yeah, me either. Rarely happens 🙄.
For me, one of the most cringe-worthy verses in the Bible is “Where words are many, sin is not absent.” (Proverbs 10:19)
The other day, I was reflecting on something I shared at a social gathering.
And after beating myself up about what would be characterized as gossip, or at least sharing information that wasn’t strictly kind, necessary, or helpful, I got more constructive and asked myself “Why?”
Why was I so motivated to say what I did?
Honestly, the information I had, gave me power and status in the eyes of people I wanted to like me.
A friend of mine sent me this quote the other day:
If I were to name the why it might be “insecurity” or “longing for importance”.
And why that? Maybe I’m not rooted enough in the truth of my belovedness to God. Who or what is telling me I’m not important or valuable to others? What is the truth, the words Jesus speaks over me?
So after you ask yourself why, and name the thing beneath the thing, then what do you do?
Confess. Ask forgiveness.
Make this your common practice: Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you can live together whole and healed.
James 5:16 Msg
Prepare for the future. Naming this, hopefully will make me more aware of the temptation when I walk into a similar situation in the future.
Reminding myself that I am a beloved child of the King who doesn’t need the approval or validation of anyone and praying that God would guard my heart and tongue may help.
Can you relate? What would you add? Share in comments.
Sin is not ended by multiplying words, but the prudent hold their tongues.
My husband John and I used to love mowing our lawn. I don’t know why. Maybe because it was outside in the wide green world and it gave us a break from kid duty. These days, not so much. (note: in place of the grass in this picture, the other day we got snow 😬)
Our front yard is a steep hill that is ankle twisting and we have a tree that seems to take sadistic glee in throwing down small branches like grenades to block our path so we have to stop multiple times to clear the minefield.
Anyway, I was mowing the lawn the other day, thinking John would probably hear and come out to relieve me at some point. It’s possible I may have speculated about a way to turn up the volume on the mower, or considered “accidentally” ramming it into the side of the house so John would know how sacrificially I was serving him!
But he didn’t seem to notice, and didn’t come out. Eventually I realized I was going to have to do the whole thing. And I started tallying my scorecard.
You know what I mean. When you start making a list in your head all the things you’ve done for your spouse or your friend, versus what he (or she) has done for you to decide if it’s even-Steven or if you should be ticked that you’ve done more to sacrifice/serve/go out of your way for them than they have for you.
Who’s on your scorecard? Your spouse? A sibling? A friend or colleague?
As I thought about it, John was way ahead on this particular day. He had done laundry, made up the guest room bed, and sat on hold for many minutes trying to sort out our insurance because our car was stolen. Hmmm….He “wins” this round.
Then I thought, “What if God kept score like I do?” The good, the bad, what I do (ostensibly) for Him, what I do for myself… It would never balance out.
Acts 10:29 says Jesus, filled with power and the Holy Spirit “went around doing good…” Not because He wanted to draw attention to Himself, or because the people He came across were so deserving, or because He wanted to balance out a scorecard.
Grace spoils us rotten. We don’t do math in our family, but even I know it doesn’t add up.
The secret to my parents’ marriage seems to be their ability to out-serve each other. They don’t keep score. My dad is inordinately patient, waiting for my mom in the car outside church, grocery stores, clothing shops, farm stands… when she doesn’t deserve it.
And my mom accommodates my dad’s picky eating habits, making him a special side salad with the homemade thousand island dressing, or a separate casserole without onions, zucchini, or mushrooms when he doesn’t deserve it.
Grace promotes grace. The more aware we are of the lavish love of God, the more we desire to serve Him. When I feel spoiled by John, when he serves me, I want to serve him.
But what if for now, I tear up the score card, put my head down and focus on blessing John, praying for him as I push the mower through the minefield of my self-centeredness?
Living life in 2022 is really hard. I know people tell you that. And they’re right. Everyone just seems meaner.
I’m convinced we’re in a global season of the “terrible two’s”.
We’re just so tired of not getting our way, that we’re all throwing tantrums and grasping for any little thing we can possibly control.
We’re tired of Covid restrictions, and worrying about Ukraine and nuclear war, the stock market, and having to pay high gas prices, and weary of trusting leaders who let us down.
We all have a little kingdom and we want a sense of being king (or queen), darn it! We want to exercise our rule and right now it’s all about us.
So we rail at the barista who got our drink wrong,
or rant to our friend about all the changes the CEO of an organization is making,
or we write our pastor to let him know in no uncertain terms that he hasn’t said enough,
or he’s said too much about ___________(you fill in the blank).
We yell at the person who is riding his bike on the sidewalk, because you’re NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!
We (I 😬) major on truth without grace.
We abuse the idea of “boundaries” (a good thing), using it as an excuse to cancel at the last minute because we don’t feel like doing something. It’s one choice we can make, in a world out of our control, so we do.
That family tradition of celebrating Thanksgiving together? “Well, there are too many people, and I’m an introvert, so I don’t want to come anymore.” (Note: not me, but the hypothetical person I”m writing about). “I just want choices”. And it’s all about what’s best for me.
We’re angry and frustrated, and we want to let everyone know.
It’s hard, but I’m trying toask these questions:
What is this anger really about? Why am I so worked up?Or why are they? What’s the thing beneath the thing?
How important is this as part of the bigger story God is writing?
What are some constructive, God-honoring choices I do have?
What am I hoping the choice I’m making will accomplish?
I was treading water in Lake Geneva on a hot summer afternoon, wondering if I might die. My 8 year old eyes were focused 12 feet above me on the 4 foot square wooden platform attached to a pier with a vertical ladder – like the tiny platform the circus clown jumps off and into a bucket of water. My cousin climbed the rickety steps while other siblings and cousins waited in line behind him.
Here was the game we were playing: Kid #1 jumps off the “high dive” (read rotted wooden death trap) and treads water below while Kids 2, 3, 4…, one at a time, try to jump as close as possible without crushing the ones in the water until everyone is in the water, hopefully all still breathing. Fun times!
Yep, kind of like human bocce ball but with higher stakes.
What can I say? We were creative and adventurous.
I look back on the things my parents let me do (including traveling in Europe alone) and I am astounded that I’m here to tell about it.
As a parent myself of kids who have now survived to adulthood, I’m amazed they made it relatively unscathed too. There are many times I look back and say to myself, “What were we thinking??!!!”
The world is vastly different from when I was a kid, or when my kids were young. None of us had active shooter drills at school. So what are the crucial choices we make to foster independence while keeping our kids, grandkids, or students safe in a dangerous world?
As my friend, Sally says “I’ve basically got my kids for 18 years. I need to make the most of the time and steward it well.”
Although I applied it very imperfectly, the best thing I learned when my kids were little is this:
We have three jobs: protect our kids, prepare them, and pray for them.
What the first two look like at different ages will vary.
1. When they are little we major on protecting them.
We put child locks on cupboards and strap them in car seats.
We also ask ourselves questions like:
What controls should we put on different tech devices?
When should we let our kids have a phone?
Are sleepovers with friends ok?
2. As they grow, there is less we can do to protect them, and we major on preparing them for the dangers they are increasingly navigating alone.
We have conversations at the dinner table, anticipating different situations they may have to navigate.
We tell the truth about the dangers they may face, but we remind them that the Creator of the universe is with them, equipping them for any situation.
And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.
2 Cor. 9:8
“The Spirit in you is far stronger than anything in the world.”
1 john 4:4
3. No matter what age they are, we cover our kids in prayer.
What are some of the situations your kids may face right now at the age they are? I’d really like to hear from you in the comments!
I pulled into the small parking lot by Staring Lake and turned into the same space I parked every morning during a couple of the most tear-filled years of my life. It had been awhile since I visited this “thin place” where heaven met earth and God entered my pain.
On the paved lake path, through leafy trees that, over the years, morphed from yellow to green to red to bare black limbs that looked like witches arms, I walked daily, pouring out my confused heart to God. Begging, questioning, accusing.
It doesn’t really matter the specifics of my circumstances. Probably you too have, or had, or will have a dark season when you realize there’s nothing you can do to “fix” things and make them the way you want or the way you are sure, in a just world, they’d be.
As I walked the path today, with the perspective of almost 20 years, what struck me was life side by side with death. Saplings next to mature oaks, beside rotted logs. Life, death, rebirth, renewal.
Years ago on this path I clung to dreams that were meant to die until I gradually loosened my grip.
I didn’t recognize what the new shoots of growth would become. I had to choose life in whatever small form it appeared.
This holy, ordinary place has made me think of other wilderness spots where people in the Bible ran from God and were met by Him. Hagar in the desert (Genesis 16:13), Jacob at Bethel (Genesis 28:16), Moses and the burning bush (Exodus 3), Elijah under the broom tree (1 Kings 19), Paul on the road to Damascus (Acts 9).
In each of these there had to be a death – death of a wrong view of God, or death of a perception of control, or death of a dream of how life would look.
But there was also new life. It looked different and may not have been immediately recognizable, but there was life, and growth, and it was better. Maybe not more comfortable or predictable or “safe” in a worldly sense, but richer, more meaningful, eternally secure.
Reflect on this continuous process of life and death and life again.
What plans are you clutching that you need to let go of?
Where is there death that you need to grieve?
Where is there evidence (even tiny and even if you’re not sure what it will turn out looking like) of new life that God wants to nurture?
Is there a physical place where God has met you in the past that you may want to visit to remember His faithfulness?
Recently, a pastor I was listening to, shared some information that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about (and not in a happy clappy way).
Back in the late 80’s and early 90’s, scientists experimented with a closed ecological system in Arizona called Biosphere 2. I don’t do science or math and maybe you don’t either, but stick with me.
They created rainforest, ocean, wetlands, savannah, and desert inside a dome in order to see if something similar could be used in outer space.
Here’s what happened. The trees grew quickly, but then fell over! One commentator said, “the lack of wind created trees with much softer wood than that species would normally make in the wild. They grew more quickly than they did in the wild, but were harmed in the long run as a consequence.”
This stuck with me because I’ve been thinking about how much comfort and convenience has become an idol in our (MY!) lives.
We’re so committed to comfort and convenience through technology that there is less and less “wind” in our lives to help deepen our relational roots with God and others.
Think about some of the ways we try to prevent any relational wind in our lives.
We order through Amazon, or mobile order our coffee so we don’t have to interact with an actual person who may be irritating to us, and we get what we want as quickly as we want. Like magic!
We attend online church (if we attend at all) so we can cherry-pick the communicator we like, with the music we like, at the time we like, and fast-forward through anything that might be boring or challenge our status quo.
We keep our heads down, eyes on our phone screens to protect us from awkward social situations and prevent us from ever having a moment to look around and be present to God and others.
We stream movies so we don’t have the inconvenience of driving to a theater, or text an excuse and bail at the last minute because we don’t feel like going out.
We choose to be consumers at the cost of community.
Again, I really don’t want to think about this, but I see 3 consequences of this abundantly technological life of no wind:
1. It gives us the misperception that we are God.
We are in control of all of the things, so what need do we have of fostering a closer relationship with the true sovereign God? Is technology our new tower of Babel? Where we originally got off track was in our desire to be autonomous. To “be” God. We’re not. He knows what we don’t know. He sees what we don’t see. He is our good and sovereign creator. We were meant for a dependent relationship with Him.
2. It isolates us,
preventing us from the comforting and spiritually formative relationships God created us for.
A new report suggests that 36% of all Americans—including 61% of young adults and 51% of mothers with young children—feel “serious loneliness.”
The effect of all this technology is comfort, yes, but also isolation. Loneliness. Connection comes at a cost.
A friend of mine had been a barista for years, but recently quit, partly because with mobile orders there was so little of the human interaction he loved.
3. It makes us less grateful.
We just moved back from the Bay area of California where the weather is close to perfect. Basically 72 degrees and sunny. Every. Day. (almost).
That’s great, but you start to take it for granted. You never have to adjust or adapt. Someone I knew planned an outdoor wedding with no contingency plan for bad weather!
Here in Minnesota I think we are over-the-top obnoxious about our gorgeous summers and falls because the winters are so harsh. The grit makes us more aware of the gift.
We can’t control the weather, but the ability to adjust the thermostat of our lives in so many areas dulls our senses to the work of God and His image in others.
SO WHAT??!Why choose what feels inconvenient? We’re weary of all the “wind” of the war and the economy and politics and Covid.
Deep breath. That’s not what I’m talking about. Instead of giving into the anxiety that these things produce, maybe pray:
Lord, today, may I not forget my need of you.
May I look up and around more than I look down at my phone.
Help me to listen with my eyes as well as my ears.
Prompt me to pause to pet puppies, compliment the cute dress on the stranger in line at the grocery store, make the soup for a sick friend, go next door to welcome the new neighbors, and bike to church even when the preacher of the day isn’t my favorite.
Make me a world-class noticer of the longing, the loneliness, the battered and the beautiful, all around me.
When I see something, remind me to say something – “thanks”, “sorry”, “wow.“
May I show up when it’s easier to shut down.
May I be a truth-teller and a grace-giver instead of a canceler of relationships when things get uncomfortable.
May connecting with You and others trump comfort, and may commitment take priority over the convenience of staying home.
I glimpse a small patch of bright fire red in the middle of still-green maple leaves as I bike through my neighborhood to Starbucks early in the morning, greeting dog-walkers and porch sitters with their first cup of coffee. Cardinals chirp and I imagine they are discussing plans to head south.
It’s not cold yet, but there’s a change in the air. The mornings are cooler and soon it will take all day for the sun to warm the earth, barely struggling up to the high, like a middle school boy trying to do chin-ups, then sliding quickly back down.
Yellow buses lumber through the neighborhood doing practice runs and we notice that dusk tiptoes in earlier. I smile at “bouquets of freshly sharpened pencils”.
I want to light candles, make soup, bake muffins. Things are changing.
Whether you’re back to packing lunches and driving carpools, adjusting to a new baby in your home, or anticipating a change in employment, moving to a new city, or trying to accept a “new normal” without a loved-one, Fall marks a season of change. And even good change can be hard.
I look forward, “adventurously expectant” (Romans 8:15 MSG) to what God has next, but still… It’s got me reflecting on how to “choose life”(Deuteronomy 13:19) while also in the midst of the grieving that inevitably comes with change.
Here are three practices I’m engaging in:
1. Honor Traditions
In seasons of change, traditions are comforting and reassuring. Throughout Scripture God institutes festivals and celebrations that are woven into the rhythm of the year to help us remember His faithfulness. (Exodus 12:14-16; Joshua 4:6-8)
One of our traditions through the years as our daughters were growing up, was a “first day of school dinner” to which we invited two single friends on staff to join our family. They are like surrogate aunties for our girls. We always had homemade chicken pot pie and share “first day” highlights with laughter and thanksgiving.
What traditions can you continue to embrace (or even create) during a season of change?
2. Reflect on Relationships
Change in location or circumstances often means change in relationships. Some people you’ve seen regularly will seemingly vanish from your everyday life.
Transition is a good time to do a relational Examen. Reflect on the people in your life.
Are there any relationships where there might be unresolved issues?
Who are the friends that remain steadfast through changing seasons? How do you continue to nurture those relationships?
Are there places where God is prompting you to reach out and make new friends?
Recently, God convicted me that there was a past relationship where I hadn’t sufficiently checked in to make sure there wasn’t unspoken pain. I felt like maybe I hadn’t adequately cared for this person in her time of transition, so I set up a coffee to ask how she felt. Is there someone you’ve been too busy to see in this new season? Might they be hurt?
3. Focus on the unchanging character of God
What are the attributes of God, the glimpses of grace and goodness you can call out each day as a counter-weight to the circumstances which may feel out of control or stressful in seasons of change?
If you have kids, can you share “God-sightings” around the dinner table?
Or journal about them? Or have a texting agreement with a friend – each of you texting how you remember God’s attributes each day?
The plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations.
psalm 33:11
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness
lamentations 3:22-23
So, those are my thoughts on what helps when change seems to throw me a loop. Maybe just pick one to focus on each day this week.
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And what ideas would YOU share? If you receive this in email, just click on the title at the top and it will take you to the website where you can leave a comment.
I feel weary. Hot, cranky and thirsty for something other than swamp water.
You too? Discouraged about the state of our democracy if you live in the U.S.? Tempted to move to Australia? Nervous about the direction the conversation will take when you’re out at dinner with friends? Longing for Jesus to bring peace and understanding?
We’re all desperate – thirsty for something other than uncertainty, tension, anxiety-producing news and social media rants.
I love the way Cary Neuwhoff states it. We need to“Drink from a deeper well.”
In order to drink from a deeper well, maybe we have to drink less from the brackish, contaminated streams of of culture, and more from the Living Water.
But what does that mean, practically??!!! Here are a few ideas:
1. Unfollow social media accounts that bring out resentment or discouragement in you.
No, I’m NOT advocating “cancel culture”. It’s important to listen to voices with different perspectives from us, but there are also those who are unhealthy for our soul.
You can also turn on notifications for those accounts that inspire or encourage you. Or star them as favorites.
2. Limit news consumption – both the amount of time you spend and who you listen to.
“What percentage of your thoughts are a regurgitation of the the news you’re watching or the social media you’re following, and what percentage of your thoughts are a revelation from the Word of God?”
Mark batterson
It’s so tempting to listen to the news that reinforces our bias. Maybe reconsider your news source?
3.Stop multi-tasking God.
Holy buckets I’m guilty of this! I love being productive – like texting a friend while I’m microwaving a burrito and checking the mail. Here’s a suggestion:
Turn off any noise. Put your phone and laptop in another room (your kids too! Check out this suggestion!)
Read all of Psalm 46. Go on! I’ll wait while you do it.
Now just take verse 10.
Be still and know that I am God
Psalm 46:10
Read the whole sentence and then pause.
Next read the verse leaving out the last word. Pause and reflect on that.
Keep reading the verse, omitting another word from the end and pausing to reflect, until you’re only saying one word: BE.
What suggestions would you add? We will all benefit from your wisdom if you post in the comments below!
If you live anywhere Up North like I do, you will probably know the feeling of the first summer excursion on “the lake” – always Memorial Day weekend. It may be 30 degrees or 70 degrees, but it’s usually blustery and you wear the Minnesota “uniform” of sweatshirt and shorts.
It’s the weekend when all the boat piers get put in and you’re so anxious for it to truly be summer that you screw up your courage and jump into the icy cold water at least once to say you did.
Remember the “Memorial Day Weekend jump-in-the-lake” story in the Gospels? It’s a dark and windy night on the Sea of Galilee in Matthew 14 when the disciples are in their boat alone and are being “buffeted by the waves”.
Jesus scares them by coming out to them walking on the water (you know, the way you do if you’re God, right?). He reassures the disciples that it really is Him and not the Ghost of Christmas Past, but Peter says “Prove it! If it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water.”
Jesus says “Ok, come on out!”
Peter clambers over the side of the boat and starts walking, but then he looks around him at what the wind is whipping up and starts to sink.
Like a harness on a ropes course, Scripture says, “Jesus didn’t hesitate. He reached down and grabbed his hand.”
What was it that motivated Peter to get out of the boat? Jesus’ invitation? Fear of the alternative without Jesus? A sense of adventure?
This story got me thinking about the different things that prompt any of us to get out of our boats of same ol’ same ol’.
3 things that God may use to get out of your boat:
1.Invitation (this may be the least likely one, so read on!)
I had a lunch meeting nine years ago. The purpose was for me to help a World Vision guy do some brainstorming and networking. At least that’s what Ithought.
I’m pretty creative. I’m good atideas. I’m also good at making work for other people. It’s a gift. So I was feeling good about meeting with Bradley (the guy) and giving him some ideas. That is until he finished telling his story, turned to me and said, “I want you to run a half-marathon with Team World Vision to raise money for clean water in Zambia.”
What the what?! Not much surprises me. Even less than that leaves me speechless. This did.
I don’t run. Unless I’m running from a bear.
As I reflected on the possibility, Fear whispered in my ear:
What if you really can’t do it? What if you don’t finish?
What if you let people down?
What if you don’t raise any money?
Honestly, one of the loudest whispers was: This will be a painful, grueling boatload of work and you don’t want to do it.
But there was this invitation that said, “Get out of the boat. This is more important than your discomfort.”
Years ago in Zambia I danced with women as a well was dug and fresh water gushed out. They sang “Come and see what God has done.” The old woman next to me spoke in wonder “He saw us. He answered our prayers.” I thought, “Wouldn’t be incredible to part of an answer to someone’s prayers?”I think, in this case, God’s answer to the fear of getting out of my boat was “What ifI run with you and do something bigger in and through you for others than you think is possible?”
Sometimes an invitation from others is also an invitation from God to get out of your boat.
2. Loss
Six years ago, a dear friend of ours died suddenly, leaving his wife as a relatively young widow. Her grief was intensified as well-meaning people made thoughtless comments or unhelpful gestures.
As an introvert, she would have liked to stay curled up in her bed all day every day, but instead, she got out of her boat (that looked like a bed). She created a class to help people learn to sensitively walk alongside their friends experiencing trauma or loss. This was hard and scary, but it gave her purpose in the midst of her grief, and it equipped others in a much needed way.
Sometimes stepping out of your boat means turning mourning into mission.
3. Need
About 10 years ago our daughter Maggie was doing a summer internship at a girls’ school in northern Uganda. Her job was to create a sex ed curriculum, but in the process of discerning where to start, she discovered that most of the girls were missing 3-4 days of school a month when they had their period, because they lacked resources to buy sanitary napkins (tampons are culturally inappropriate). There was a need that had huge consequences for the education of girls.
Maggie could have just stuck to her assignment, but getting out of her boat meant finding ways to innovate. The school included training the girls in sewing, so Maggie googled how to make reusable sanitary napkins and taught the girls how to make their own.
For her husband, Austin, getting out of his boat looked like carrying cartons of disposable sanitary napkins I had collected here in the states through customs on his first international trip. He delivered them to Maggie in Uganda, so they could also keep a closet of these for emergency needs.
Sometimes stepping out of your boat means tackling insufficiency with innovation.
Can you relate to any of these? Has there been a time when you’ve been prompted to “get out of your boat”? What happened? Share in comments!
Summer has officially arrived! That means change! Kids home, different pace, trips to the lake…
Changing Hospitality Rhythms
Summer is a time for easy outdoor entertaining where it’s all about the fun and connecting!
Hospitality hack: Pre scoop vanilla ice cream and put it in cupcake liners in muffin tin. Serve root beer floats for dessert.
I have a free resource of Easy Summer Go-to Menus, recipes, and More if you’re interested!Just click here!
Changing Seasons
Summer may mean a shift to casual, play, and outdoor fun. But it may mean other transitions too. A move, a job change, a loss, a diagnosis…
If you’d like to get a free resource to help you reflect on the changing seasons of your life with God and prepare to flourish, just click here!
Changing Church
Speaking of change…How has your relationship with the Church changed over the past few years? We’ve had terrible scandals, racial tension, Covid…Were you engaged in church before, but not now? Check out sermons every once in awhile, but aren’t attending in person anymore? What have you learned?
My friend Nancy Beach wrote a great book with her daughter Samantha, called Next Sunday about the good, the bad and the ugly and what may be next for the Church. They take an aspect of church for every chapter and each of them write from their experience and perspective, raising questions to consider.
This would be a great book for your small group to discuss! Here are a few questions my small group has used:
What was your experience of church growing up? Positive? Negative? Non-existent?
What draws you to church now?
What keeps you from fully engaging?
Have you been injured by the church?
If the following are qualities of genuine community, which do you think we/you need to work on most:
forgiving one another
showing up for one another
listening to one another
believing the best about one another
creating safe space for one another
being committed over the long-haul
6. What is one experience of community or inclusion in the church that has been powerful or inspiring for you?
7. Is there some way a challenging aspect of community has formed you more into the likeness of Jesus or taught you something?
Have a joy-filled week and let me know in the comments what’s on your summer fun list!
I hang out mostly over on Instagram. I’d love to see you there!