.Stories.

Stories are so precious. They connect us, they inspire us, they embolden us, and warn us.  It is in a story that we find solidarity and so often find ourselves nodding along thinking, yes, me too. Humanity is found within the pages. There is a desire inside of us, no matter our temperaments, to know and be known, and stories foster this. This is one of the main reasons that I have been feeling the desire to come back to this little space and share again. I miss what happens in the sharing. I need what happens to me in the sharing. There is no better way to point to Jesus then for me to bare my story.

BUT.

And that but makes me hesitant, and question and sometimes it makes me stuck staring at a blank screen. Because the truth is, the story is not always easy. It is not always easy to tell, and it is most definitely not always easy to live. I want to write transparently, but I also really desire for it to be tidy. Tidy, however, is seldom authentic. Because this one wild life that makes up our one wild story is messy. Honestly, every great story has a mess, but think about the greatest stories, that mess is sometimes what leads to the most beautiful ending, those endings that take our breath away and make us feel alive. The tension is what makes us keep reading. It is what keeps us interested. I think maybe it is because the tension is something so many of us can relate to. It might look differently for you, than it does for me, but humans understand tension.

I really want a lovely story. I am a simple girl, and would like a simple story, but God has some crazy ideas about my story. So, here I am in Ethiopia, and the story is anything but simple, and many times far from lovely, and honestly, a lot lonely. 2016 started ugly and pregnant with tension. Hours into this clean slate, this beautiful brand new chapter and fresh start, the enemy came back with his old tricks and snuck in with things that we thought had already been dealt with and stamped out. I am learning that parenting really “messies” the story. It also refines and chisels. I made some very intentional parenting goals for this next year, and held onto that goal as a bomb was dropped in front of us. But then six days in,  I had already failed miserably, and the goal was nowhere to be found. Oftentimes in these failures, I recognize how much I am trying to do this alone, and am brought back to my knees again to face my failure head on and acknowledge my need for Jesus. And so the story goes - messy and full of chances to try again on the next page and in the next chapter. I suppose that is a beautiful way to describe grace – all these second chances to rewrite the narrative.

So, as we press into this new year, here is to our stories, our collective ones that collide and intertwine, and our individual ones that illustrate our unique plot. May we be brave in the telling, gentle in the living, and open to the hearing of the stories around us. The gospel was based upon the greatest story ever told, and its main character was the greatest storyteller who ever lived. May this example guide us to be courageous with our own stories.

And that bruise under my eye? It has a story. A story involving a water balloon. Sometimes the story is different than it appears on the surface, or that we create in our mind. Might we also be gracious and tender as we wait and listen for the truth of the stories bravely shared with us, because not every story is as it may first seem.

.Waving my White Flag on the Mommy War.

Before becoming a mommy, I dreamed about what it would be like. I envisioned how I would protect my children and their hearts, and I anticipated having to fight for my children at times. But what I didn't anticipate was who it was that I would often fight against.

Other mommies.

 Yup, that's right, I excitedly became a member of the Mommy Club and then soon fell into the Mommy War.

I am ashamed to admit how much I have participated in this. I would love to say that it was naivety in being a new mom that drove me to engage, but truth be told, I just wanted to do this mommy thing right. And when so much is at stake - the very life and development of another human being - we get pretty defensive about what we have decided is right. The defensiveness quickly escalates to criticisms and judgments and then all out war - just to protect that rightness - and to make sure that we feel good about our choices and look good, too. It's a really ugly manifestation of insecurity in our own decisions. I am kind of exhausted of it, though.

Just shy of ten years of being inside this Mommy Club, I have finally come to the place where I understand that what is right for one family, for one child, is not universally right for every family, for every child. It's just not. There's no cookie-cutter method of parenting. 

I am overwhelmed over the lack of grace we women  - mommies - give each other. It's yucky. It's like a grown-up version of junior high, and that gives me the shivers. There is not a topic that is safe, everything is subject to her disapproval.

To breastfeed or bottle feed
To use breast milk or formula
To work or stay home
To eat natural or not
To cloth diaper or disposable diaper
To home school, private school, or public school
To do Santa Claus, Halloween, the Easter bunny or not
To allow screen time or not and how much
To be a helicopter parent or raise free-range children
To spank or not to spank....

The list could go on for days. The battles are endless. The lines are constantly drawn, and engagement in the war is seen everywhere - on TV, on social media, at the park, at church - everywhere - no place is safe.

Why do we feel so entitled to challenge other mommies on the choices her family has made? I dare say that this superiority (for deep down when we look at the ugly underbelly of the war - superiority is at the root - superiority entwined with insecurity) is destroying the beautiful village feel that somewhere inside the heart of all moms, we need and crave. How can we be a village with other women, when we are constantly defending our choices, and in the defending, criticizing hers? To me, having a village of lifetime friendships with other women, regardless of our parenting styles and choices, sounds so much better then feeling right about my choices, and therefore living in isolation, because our parenting choices will never ever perfectly match her parenting choices.

In the past, I have waxed eloquently (errr maybe just waxed) about some of my own decisions in parenting. I specifically remember the topic of home schooling, and how strongly I once felt about that topic. Don't get me wrong, I do love home schooling, and after taking a year off, have once again chosen that as the method of education for my children. But it is not the best choice for every family. It's really, really not. It was not our best choice this past year. So, we didn't do it. We took a much needed break. We chose private school, and we chose it simply because that is where our oldest son had to attend on his student visa, and in an effort to streamline our chaotic life a bit, we sent our oldest daughter to the same private school. But I don't need to defend that choice. It was the best decision for our family for that time. And if public school had been the best decision, we would not have hesitated to choose that. In that moment, of that decision, I found peace, clarity, and grace. I stopped worrying if, because she was still home schooling her children, and I wasn't, she was a better mommy than I was - I stopped wondering if she was enough while I never would be. Because there is really no such thing. None of us are enough, and that's why we need to show our children that Jesus is enough. Honestly, that will probably look quite different for all of us.

So, I am waving my white flag in this Mommy War. Instead of comparing myself to how she mommies, I will, with God's direction, do what is right - right now - for my family. I will choose to stop defending my choices and criticizing hers. The criticism is just insecurity anyway, and my security doesn't need to come from another mom's approval of how I parent. I want to instead be a beautiful member of that Mommy Club, and notice our unique differences, strengths, goals, dreams, passions, etc. I want to take the time to notice the truth that most mommies are doing what is best for their family right now. It's true, all of us moms have short-comings. We will all make mistakes in this journey of parenting, there is no such thing as a perfect mommy, but most likely, we don't need our mistakes pointed out. We will get there and grow in our parenting. And in between all of the gaps and mess-ups, Jesus fills them in, and He can use us to help fill them in, too, when we wave our white flag and offer grace to one another.

I think that we can  really play a part in trying to end these silly Mommy Wars, and link arms and spread grace inside of the Mommy Club. Let's be a different generation. Let's not divide ourselves - the world does a good enough job at that already. Let's be a safe, beautiful place for each of us to be the mommy God created us to be. I don't want to be offended by her, or judge her, or size myself up by her. I just want to be part of a sisterhood that encourages and champions her wherever she is in her journey. We are in this together - we all answer to the same name, Mommy. We are all her.

.Created to Unplug.

We swiped our metro card and waited to ride. We entered the car quickly and found seats. The subway car bumped along the rusty rails, and I sat back, snug beside my husband and my oldest son. We were headed into Manhattan for a little breather and sight-seeing. I relaxed against my husband, Jim, and did what I love to do in these situations. I people watched - cautiously and discreetly so as not to be a complete creeper. It wasn't long before I looked around and I noticed that everywhere I looked on that car, people were completely lost in their iphone, ipod, or other electronic hand held device. Some were bobbing to their music, some were thumbing through social media, some were texting, some had earbuds in and were snoozing. A few held onto the pole with one hand and an ipad with the other. One thing was the same though - almost all had escaped into a digital world. There wasn't much human connection. Most people were plugged into their device and completely disconnected with the reality around them. I hadn't traveled the subway in over fifteen years, and I was shocked at the difference that had taken place.  It wasn't that friendships were immediately struck up years ago, but there was more of a physical connection. At least that is how I remembered it. I realized that back then this kind of technology did not even exist. As I looked around me human interaction now seemed obsolete, and I was the odd one, without a device glued to my hand.

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It is a reality that our world is now immersed in technology. And there are so many amazing benefits to that. Our family benefits from this technology everyday. Our world has gotten smaller, and communication across the globe is accessible now. Almost daily I talk to teenagers an ocean away in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, and I am so thankful for the technology to be able to do so. I can instantly share pieces of my life and feel connected to family members across the country. But I also think that all this technology is stealing some of the best parts of humanity and leaving a huge bruise on relationships - an indelible scar on what used to be. I'm not the first blogger to write about this, and I won't be the last, but I couldn't ignore what I witnessed on that subway.

I think we have lost something. We have shrunk the sphere of awareness. As humans we were created for connection - for real, tangible, flesh and blood relationships. We have lost our realness and traded it in for something fake - something less - for air-brushed, neatly orchestrated and edited status updates that only expose what we want to expose. We have grown cold and calculating rather than warm and spontaneous. Sometimes we just need the warmth of skin wrapped around us in an embrace rather than reading {hug}. We need tenderness that cannot be transmitted electronically, and eye contact, and laughter, and smiles that illicit our own. Real life, raw vulnerability, messy imperfections exudes humanity- humanity that we can so easily escape when we hide behind our screens. There is something powerful about physical touch, and we see Jesus interacting and physically reaching out to touch people over and over in the gospels. We are called to follow Jesus and mimic the way he engaged with people. I am not arguing that Jesus wouldn't be on social media today, but I am arguing that Jesus would not have replaced flesh and blood relationships with the digital world and online relationships. He would have been more about real relationships and less about making online connections and networking.

Have you noticed that the online world happens at breakneck speed? We feel like we have to keep up with every email, text, private message, instagram, notification, tweet, blog post, etc. We have so many different inboxes it makes our heads spin. There is so much swirling at us, and we are on high alert fearing missing something. These relationships are turbo-boosted and spastic, and many of them are fake. We think we know people, but we are seldom given more than a one-dimensional peak into their life and who they are. When we get together with friends in person it is slower, richer, and more gratifying. We don't have to keep up - we can just be. Online we are spreading ourselves so thin, because somewhere inside of us we long for relationships, and maybe we believe more online connections are better and make us better. But what if so many of these relationships are superficial, because they lack the warmth and the flesh and blood of physically being together? What if they have lulled us into something less than we were created for? What if we have this all wrong? What if we are wading through the world of shallow?

I realize this is not always the case. Some of my now dearest friends were first introduced to me digitally. But in most of these cases, we solidified the relationship when we had the chance to interact in person, and our online relationship turned into true flesh and blood friendship. The dynamic on human interactions has shifted, and there is room for this digital world inside of our world. But it cannot come at the expense of living breathing relationships. Maybe it should be less about networking and more about core, authentic relationships.

When I was riding that subway car, I looked around and was so saddened by what I saw - so many people - so many stories living inside those living, breathing bodies, and yet, each of us was alone in a crowd. Most everyone was somewhere else, unengaged, and had hidden themselves in technology. We were alone together. There wasn't any eye contact, no nod good morning, or gentle smile. Rather there was a group of isolated people with their heads down buried in a private world. I thought about my children, and I realized that this was the only world that they knew. This would be normal to them. I cannot change that, but in my own home we can create sacred spaces and foster living, breathing relationships. So we remove technology from meal times, and we shut it down at certain times in the evening. We follow some basic rules, and we celebrate engaging people physically. We teach the value of deep conversation rather than sacrificing it for online connection.We try not to let technology pervade every moment. And it is a constant battle. I may not own a smartphone, but I can be just as distracted with a laptop.  It is being intentional everyday with the time gifted to me, and modeling for my children healthy relationships. I have a teenager who loves technology, which is not abnormal, but finding the balance and not letting it consume him or captivate his heart is tricky. I have to be the example. For an introvert, the digital world can be much more appealing and much more safe feeling than anything real, but flesh and blood relationships are rich. They are sometimes messy and sometimes demanding, but there is no replacing the human element. We were created for it. We were created to unplug and share face-to-face time rather than just Face-Time.

What are your thoughts on this digital world we live in? How does it impact your family? What sacred spaces are you fostering outside of technology?

.Trouble.

The words get stuck, and I hate that. I don't like coming here with trepidation over what to say. But we are in a tough spot, and I don't know what to write. Scratching out the truth doesn't feel good or look pretty.  We knew planting a church like the one God laid on our hearts would be hard - especially here - especially in North America. Our eyes were wide open, but still, when the hard comes, and the questions are hurled, and the whisperings swirl it stings. When the bank account is dry and the house doesn't sell and the job doesn't come it feels ugly.

This hard is real and raw and no longer theoretical. It is here thundering over and around us. But that is the thing about trying to live like the Kingdom people Jesus calls us out to be in this Genesis 3 imperfect world. Our hearts, souls, and bodies are crying out for the pre-fall of Genesis 1, but for now we are stuck right here in fallen, imperfect ruins of what should have been. When your home isn't here, and your citizenship isn't on this earth, you will always feel like a foreigner stumbling along in a strange world. I feel foreign in my own skin - it doesn't fit anymore.

It's hard to fit this fallen body into this space, when I crave the perfect that is on the other side. But that is exactly as it should be - hard. I am not sure when I started believing the lie that if I was truly following Jesus then my life would be easy. I suppose I was duped by the father of lies. And I certainly did gulp it down, slippery and slimy and swallowed it whole, and now it is choking me as I try to spit back up the lies and exchange them for the hard, burning truth that in this life we. will. have. trouble. It's a promise that if we are serious about this following Jesus thing then we have also signed up for trouble to follow us as well.

And trouble is nipping at our heels. Heated, baited breath, fierce.

I am a mess. I feel lost. I feel alone. I wake up and cannot get over it. And it drives me back into His arms. He pursues, pulls and drags me to the security that He alone can give. I resist and push, but my brokeneness and anguish only illuminate the perfectness that He is. I am blinded by it, seared by His grip and pursuit and hold on me. And in this broken, confused, messy trouble, I am right where I belong.

And I squeeze my eyes shut, and I drown in His mercy sinking into His grace. It's not pretty or graceful. I am gasping for air and flailing my arms, sputtering up lies, and feeling the blood rush hard into my ears beating out fears. But I hold on tight and ride the tidal waves of trouble.

I hold on tightly because there is nothing else to hold onto, and the truth is I am the one being held. And for now that is enough to keep moving forward right through the thick trouble.

.Community.

As we seek out to build this new kind of church, there is one theme that continues to stand out in the front - community. We see it in the book of Acts in the first church (Acts 2:42-47) - goodness - they were DEVOTED to one another. Can you just imagine a community devoted to one another? A community that loved each other so much that they desired to share their lives with each other? That is exactly the first church that God established, and yet, I look at so many churches today and see how very far we have drifted from this mind set.  How we have let our culture dictate our posture towards each other. We see this beautiful relationship perfectly lived out, way back in Genesis at the beginning of this created world - God, Jesus, and the Spirit were all in community with one another. The theme is woven throughout history, time, the Bible, and our world - although sometimes it is hard to find here in our culture which values individualism so much. One thing that resonated with me the most about Ethiopia, was the community that was there - people doing life together. And the women - oh, how beautiful the women were - loving on each other with lavish kisses, and literally raising babies together. They truly had a village. And I came home with an ache, because for the first time I realized, I truly did not, but I was desperate for it - breathless for it.

[source]

We were not created to live life in isolation. And yet, so many of us carry these excruciating battle scars that keep us running from community. I am right there, too; I make the same excuses, carry the same scars, and have the same fears. As an introvert, it is easy for me to retreat, pull away from people, and become a hermit. It is comfortable, and it is second nature. And although, many times it truly feels like a security blanket to me, it is not the way that God intended me to live out this one life. Even as an introvert, I still need my people.

And the truth is, we all do.

But tragically, especially for women, community is complicated. If we are honest, we have all been on the receiving end of a hurtful community or friendship. The past wounds inflicted on our heart from other women, leave us questioning whether it is even worth it. The emotional  reactions that surface when we think of past experiences are bitter and real. Disappointment burns, betrayal bites, women and their words wound so deeply. And yet, we desire a community where we can be real and raw and broken and messy - a community where we can be transparent and vulnerable with no fear that we will be met with criticism and judgement. We want a community that takes on the posture of Jesus, where God shows up, and where the Spirit weaves. We deeply need community with other people - with other women. We want to know other women intimately and, we need to be known in the same way, and we need to be safe in the knowing. We need a place where we can know that it is okay to not be okay, and where we do not have to answer every "How are you?" with "Fine". Because none of us are fine, and it is okay to not be fine.

For a lot of years, I have learned to hide behind that "fine". I have hid for so long, that now at 33 years old, I am just uncovering the real me - the one that doesn't have to be hidden. The one who doesn't have to pretend to be perfect and put-together in order to be accepted. I have lived a lifetime of surface relationships, arm-length friendships, withdrawal, isolation, masking - faking. I thought I had to in order to be liked and accepted, and while it band aided the pain of rejection, it kept me from being healed and redeemed in community. It kept me from community. It kept me jaded and cynical and not able to maintain deep friendships, because although I am an introvert, I don't do shallow well, or small-talk. I like to go deep fast, get to the heart, but that is terrifying - for me and probably for other women.

I am desperate for community though, and friendship with women. I finally am beginning to see that this is what I am craving - a safe place to laugh and share stories, to cry with and for one another, to enter another person's pain and journey and life. My defenses and callousness and hurts and fears need to be melted away. I need a community where I can mess up and not be a good friend, and be grabbed by the neck and not let go. Because I won't be good at it - at least not right away. I want to be bare before my sisters - blemishes, scars, warts and all. I desire that genuine connection that God desires for us all. I yearn for community, and am excited about the women that God is putting into this new season of my life.

The best is yet to be.

.Sweet Spot.

I've found that sweet spot once again. You know the one? The spot that embraces your entire being and makes your soul soar? The sweet spot that one can only get to when she is following Jesus exactly where He calls? It's been a long, dark, hard winter. Excruciating really. Too much busyness, too much stress, too much anxiety. We knew God was calling us to something, but the Spirit wasn't being clear on where or how or when. There was a restlessness in our souls that consumed us. And then busyness, oh the busyness was intolerable. God did not create us for such busyness. He created us to be in relationships, and relationships are suffocated by busy. It was my deepest, darkest winter, my soul was buried, my joy was muffled, I was in a fog of doldrums - not quite depression, but more than the blues.

But I've come up for air and have been enveloped in that sweet spot, walking beside my Jesus, so full of contentment and joy and just plain happy, happy, happy. I am excited about our future. I have no idea how it will work out. We have to sell this house. We have to find another one. We have to come up with tuition for three kiddos next year, but I am at peace. I wouldn't rather be anywhere else right now than this very spot. We are planting a church - a very different church. And although Jesus has called us to this, there is absolutely no guarantee that the road He is paving will be a road of success for this church. We long for that. We long to build a community that is a beautiful part of the bride. We long to breathe life into the body and see the Kingdom grow. But we have no way of knowing what lies ahead.

For today I am so okay with that.

The sun is shining.

The birds are chirping.

And I am resting in that sweet spot.

I am guarding my heart and this sweet spot, because I know that the valleys and the mountains will come again. Sometimes following Jesus leads to this sweet spot and sometimes it leads to suffering. We participate in His joy and His suffering. The sweetness can only be tasted after the bitter. I think it is only noticed and fully reveled in after the bitter.

Reveling in it today.

When was the last time you hit that sweet spot? Are you there now?