The posts I'm afraid to write...

I've been having a quiet spiritual crisis over the past few weeks. Not in a bad way, or even in a way that has me questioning my faith. I've talked to a few friends about it, and I've been praying about it. But today, in church, after listening to the pastor preach about being obedient to God's call, I realized that it's time to share what I've been thinking about.

There's a lot going on in my head, and in my heart, about faith these days, and things I want to say. Things I'm afraid to say to anyone except my closest friends. I know that if I say it publicly, some people will be happy about my words, but a lot of others will be mad. I've faced enough rejection in my life that I don't want to say a bunch of stuff that'll make people mad. Which is a safe way to live, I guess, but it's not very honest.

The truth is, I'm angry. And I'm hurt. And I'm caught in this place of trying to reconcile a faith and a God that I love with a bunch of people who act like jerks in God's name. I don't think they mean to be jerks. I think that they think, in their own way, that they're doing what God wants them to do.

So I'm going to be more honest... and I'm going to talk about the real things going on in my heart that I've been afraid to share. I'm sorry if it pisses anyone off. But if I want to live more like Jesus, then I can't be afraid of upsetting people. If he'd given in to that fear, would we be here today?

In the spirit of sharing the things I'm afraid to share, here's the thought that's keeping me up tonight: Today, some nutcase shot up a Sikh temple. Not one of my friends, Christian or not, has posted any sympathies or anything to indicate that they care. One person did post a scathing comment blaming it on intolerant Christians- but that's it. (And I find the intolerance comment offensive, BTW. Not only has it not been said that whoever did it was a Christian, but let's not use one person's actions as an excuse to attack an entire religion. That's what causes hate crimes to begin with.) When Aurora shooting tragedy happened a couple weeks ago, my Facebook was filled with posts from all sorts of people upset over the tragedy. Why aren't we all more upset over this shooting?

Today, families lost people they dearly love. There is a community of people devastated by a horrible crime. I really don't care that they aren't Christians. They are human beings, and God loves them just as much as He loves us. I've never been one of those people who goes out and tries to comfort shooting victims. I'm not really good at that. But right now, I'm so angry that we're not more angry about yet another shooting, that if I lived in their community, I'd be bringing them meals or whatever you do in these situations. I am a Christian woman, and I love that Sikh community just as much as I love anyone else. God loves them too.

Compassion isn't just about loving people who are like us, but it's about daring to reach out to those who are different, and accepting them anyway.  I have yet to find any information about donations to help those affected by this tragedy, but I personally plan on doing what I can to help. I hope you will consider doing the same.

 

The lie of perfection

[caption id="attachment_1952" align="alignleft" width="300"] I wanted to take a perfect picture of a flower, and ended up with a blurry mess. But the more I look at it, the more I realize how beautiful it is.[/caption]

Part of why I haven't been consistent with my blogging lately is a lot of the same reason I haven't put my website out there yet. I have this crazy thought that until it's perfect, until I'm perfect, I can't put it out there. I've been doing a Bible study on the lies we believe, and that crazy thought of being perfect, well, that's one of them. I'm not perfect, and I never will be. Neither will you, or anyone else. But we get caught up in that lie and it makes us crazy.

When I started knitting, and I was frustrated with my lack of progress, a friend told me a story of how Jewish women intentionally put a mistake in their work because it can't be perfect. Only God is perfect, therefore they shouldn't even attempt to be.  As I look at my struggle with perfection, I wonder how much easier my life would be if I lived like that...

Now, I'm not talking about taking the attitude of saying, "I'm not perfect, never will be, so I'm going to go out and sin all I want to."  But what if I gave myself grace moments every day, like instead of yelling at my kids to pick up their stuff as I answer the door for an unexpected guest (because God forbid someone actually sees what an awful mess my house gets to be), I let the person in- and I let them accept me for who I really am. Because yes, I desperately dream of having a perfectly clean house. Some days, I'm really good at it. Other days, I live in fear that social services will take my kids away because it looks like really bad things happened here. Maybe, if someone sees that my house is not a perfect show home, maybe they'll accept that theirs doesn't have to be either.

Because if I were to sum up my mission and purpose for sharing on Twitter, Facebook, and my blog, that's really it. You are not alone in your struggles. I am struggling right there with you. There are two people I really admire who've said similar things- Lisa Samson, who says that she writes so "that people will know that they are not alone"; and Michele Cushatt, who has this great thing she says on her website, "I'm with you." I should mention that some things Camy Tang has said to me privately also inspire me in this vein, but she hasn't shared publicly, so I won't. But she's awesome, too, so she needs a shout-out. :)

I mention these people, not because I want to be another Lisa Samson, Michele Cushatt, or Camy Tang. They all have incredible messages, but they aren't me, and I'm not them. I'm living my own imperfect life. In revealing those imperfections, and sharing the truths I learn along the way, maybe someone out there will find a bit of extra strength and courage to get through that next place because someone is right there with them.

Will I do it perfectly? Nope. I hereby offer you the 100% guarantee that I'm going to mess up. I apologize in advance. But I'm done living the lie that I can some how, some way, be perfect.

How about you? Are you fighting a battle against the lie of perfection? How do you deal with it?

 

 

Welcome to my new site!!

I've been working on my new site for several months now. It's been live, but I haven't moved the blog entirely over because well, I'm just not fully satisfied with it. I paid to have someone do it, and unfortunately, due to some communication errors on both sides, they never finished it to my satisfaction. So I've been messing with it, trying to make the things that I don't like work, and I've kept working on trying to make it more perfect.

But then, Michael Hyatt posted something on his blog where he encouraged people to Embrace Permanent Beta and Launch... So, Mike, if I can call you that, this one's for you. Thanks for making me finally accept that it's not going to be perfect, and I need to just do it already.

So here it is... my imperfect website that's probably a better reflection of me than something perfectly shiny and wonderful. There's so much I still want to do with it, but for now, it is what it is. To be honest, that's pretty much who I am as a person and a writer. I'm doing the best I can with what I have, and hoping to improve, but in the meantime, I'm enjoying the journey.

Take a look around, let me know what you think, and in the coming months, we'll see this place evolve. Or not. And that's okay.

Waiting for the soil to be ready

The trouble with living in Colorado is that our growing season is so short. And the weather so variable. Last month, we went from 80's to snow, back to warm, then cold again. Which means I have to continue waiting for the weather to be good enough to plant my garden.

For me, the hardest part about this weather is that on the days that we're approaching 70, I am sorely tempted to go out and plant my lovely little plants. In fact, on one of our 80 degree days, I did go to the garden center and buy a few plants. The next garden center had a big sign reminding us that the danger of last frost is not past until May 15th.

Waaa!!!

So my plants are sitting in my little red wagon. Every day, I wheel the wagon out to get sunlight, and at night, I wheel it back in. I still have a few more plants to buy, but for now, it makes me happy to see that I've gotten a start on my garden. And yes, for all of  my urban homesteading dreams, I still buy plants. I have terrible luck starting from seed because the light in our house is terrible, so my seedlings get leggy and don't transplant well. But hey, I am growing my own food, and it'll be really yummy come summer.

Even though I am impatient with the waiting, it is a nice reminder of all the seasons of life. There are so many projects I want to do RIGHT NOW, but it's not the right season. I could plant my tomatoes today, and they might be okay. Of course, my youngest was born during a May snowstorm, so my tomatoes might die. Which is a great reminder that even though I'm tempted to go for it, it's time to wait. I'm waiting on a lot of things in my life right now, so having this physical reminder of the necessity of waiting has been really good for me.

Is there anything you're waiting on for the right season? How do you deal with the temptation to plant prematurely?

Waiting for the soil to be ready

The trouble with living in Colorado is that our growing season is so short. And the weather so variable. Last month, we went from 80's to snow, back to warm, then cold again. Which means I have to continue waiting for the weather to be good enough to plant my garden.

For me, the hardest part about this weather is that on the days that we're approaching 70, I am sorely tempted to go out and plant my lovely little plants. In fact, on one of our 80 degree days, I did go to the garden center and buy a few plants. The next garden center had a big sign reminding us that the danger of last frost is not past until May 15th.

Waaa!!!

So my plants are sitting in my little red wagon. Every day, I wheel the wagon out to get sunlight, and at night, I wheel it back in. I still have a few more plants to buy, but for now, it makes me happy to see that I've gotten a start on my garden. And yes, for all of  my urban homesteading dreams, I still buy plants. I have terrible luck starting from seed because the light in our house is terrible, so my seedlings get leggy and don't transplant well. But hey, I am growing my own food, and it'll be really yummy come summer.

Even though I am impatient with the waiting, it is a nice reminder of all the seasons of life. There are so many projects I want to do RIGHT NOW, but it's not the right season. I could plant my tomatoes today, and they might be okay. Of course, my youngest was born during a May snowstorm, so my tomatoes might die. Which is a great reminder that even though I'm tempted to go for it, it's time to wait. I'm waiting on a lot of things in my life right now, so having this physical reminder of the necessity of waiting has been really good for me.

Is there anything you're waiting on for the right season? How do you deal with the temptation to plant prematurely?

Fine! I'll talk about my writing!

Where my books are set

I guess since I'm a writer I should talk about my writing. Right now, there isn't anything exciting to talk about. Instead, I'm trying to tell you about the more exciting things in my life. Because seriously, my struggles with paint drying are a lot more exciting than my writing.  My agent has my latest book. He likes it. He'll be submitting it. Maybe he already has. I'm trying not to stalk him and ask for updates every ten seconds.

So I'm working on the next book and pretending that I'm not thinking about the book that somebody might be reading. Right now. Or now. Or maybe it'll be read sometime in the next ten minutes. You never know. And thinking about it only makes me crazy, so I keep busy to avoid thinking about it. Because that makes me think about what I'm currently writing, and I'm still in the "my writing is crap" stage, so let's not think about any of it. Let's pretend everything is good and  pretty and happy, and there will be rainbows and flowers and butterflies.

While I wait, I'll be working on my house, maybe doing something with my garden, possibly getting a few chickens, turning my children into minions, irritating my husband, and, if we can ever get past soccer season, I might even head back to Leadville to do some more research.

Because I really am working on my writing. Really.

Fine! I'll talk about my writing!

Where my books are set

I guess since I'm a writer I should talk about my writing. Right now, there isn't anything exciting to talk about. Instead, I'm trying to tell you about the more exciting things in my life. Because seriously, my struggles with paint drying are a lot more exciting than my writing.  My agent has my latest book. He likes it. He'll be submitting it. Maybe he already has. I'm trying not to stalk him and ask for updates every ten seconds.

So I'm working on the next book and pretending that I'm not thinking about the book that somebody might be reading. Right now. Or now. Or maybe it'll be read sometime in the next ten minutes. You never know. And thinking about it only makes me crazy, so I keep busy to avoid thinking about it. Because that makes me think about what I'm currently writing, and I'm still in the "my writing is crap" stage, so let's not think about any of it. Let's pretend everything is good and  pretty and happy, and there will be rainbows and flowers and butterflies.

While I wait, I'll be working on my house, maybe doing something with my garden, possibly getting a few chickens, turning my children into minions, irritating my husband, and, if we can ever get past soccer season, I might even head back to Leadville to do some more research.

Because I really am working on my writing. Really.

Thanksgiving Thursday: Delayed Answers

Today I am thankful for delayed answers. Which is kind of weird, because I'm the most impatient person I know. However... yesterday I had some wonderful quiet time in which God showed me the joy in the delayed answer to a prayer I prayed several years ago.

Rewind a few years. I was in a semi bad place, and I really needed someone to come alongside me. A really good friend knew someone in a similar place and tried to connect us. On the surface, this person and I had so much in common, and we really appeared to be a good fit. But time passed, and the connection never worked out. I prayed a lot about it, and I really prayed for this connection, because it seemed so perfect. I wondered why the only answer I received was silence.

Fast forward to recent months. Over the past few months I learned some things about this person that have made me realize that we would have had a very toxic and damaging relationship. I know that I would have taken a lot of it personally and having a relationship with this person would have really hurt me. I know this because of some things that happened to a friend of mine with this person.

My friend called me yesterday to apologize for saying bad things about this person, and as she apologized, I started to realize what a gift it had been. First off, my friend had nothing to apologize for- she had merely been talking about her experience with this person and trying to figure out the right thing to do. But secondly, as I saw the behaviors this other person exhibited, I realized how I would have been affected by them. It would not have been healthy for me. So I thanked my friend. Because her words gave me the clarity to an answer I'd been looking for about this person.

Why couldn't we connect?


I think God prevented us from connecting, because He knew that we would have connected, but ultimately, the differences in our personalities would have created a toxic relationship that would have been damaging to me, and maybe even both of us. I am learning that I don't always know my limits when it comes to people. I let in a lot of bad people and I don't have good enough boundaries to keep them from hurting me. I am learning to have better boundaries (but still need a lot of work), but back then, my difficulty in maintaining boundaries would have made the situation really bad.

I also realized that the reason God didn't just say, "no," is that back then, I would not have understood. I didn't know that I had a problem with boundaries, and I would have pushed myself to do what I thought was the right thing, even though it was the wrong thing. Please don't misunderstand and think that I think this person is a bad person or that I'm judging this person for what happened to my friend. I truly believe this person was doing what s/he thought best. I just saw a pattern of behavior and reactions that I know would have been a bad situation for me. I had observed these behaviors over the past several months without my friend's feedback, but my friend's words provided confirmation.

So I have been sitting here, sad for my friend and the hurt she is feeling, but also grateful that God protected me from what would have been worse hurt. I didn't understand my lack of answers years ago, but today, I get it. And it's helping me to think about all the other delayed answers, the longings in my heart that I don't understand why God hasn't clearly told me anything other than wait. I don't like the waiting, and I don't like the thought that perhaps in the end, the answer will be no. But I see how God has protected me in this situation, and I feel strengthened knowing that my other delayed answers may be more about my protection and growth than it is about God being a big meanie.

What about you? Are there answers you are waiting on? Is there something in that wait you can be thankful for?

The best and worst of people

As I mentioned in my blog about Elitch's, one of the things that struck me about the whole horrible day was how I saw such a contrast in the best and worst of people.

First off, I did want to mention that I did hear back from the staff. They were nice about it and apologized for our experience, although they were also really defensive in how they did what they could. I guess I can understand that they'd want to defend their actions, but I do hope that they will do more in the future to prevent it.

But that brings me back to what I've been pondering since it all happened- why are we all so focused on our needs beyond everyone else's? It bugs me that we're in such a "me-first" world. People who were so intent on getting their tickets before everyone else, even though there were plenty to go around, had no problem pushing and in some cases, stepping on others to get there. I can still picture this one woman. So aggressive, and did everything she could to put herself and her two young sons ahead of everyone else. Despite multiple people talking to her, trying to be reasonable, her answer was, "too bad."

I saw her a number of times throughout the day. She must've been on my radar or something, because in that crowd, it would have been hard to find anyone. Each time, she seemed to be perfectly happy and having a great time. And I had to wonder, how does she do it? How does she live with herself, knowing she'd hurt others on the way to getting to a good time? I also wondered about what kind of people her sons would grow up to be. Because if this woman can act like that over a concert, where she would have gotten tickets anyway had she just waited her turn, where else does this aggressive, me-first attitude come out?

I want to contrast this, though, with some great people we met. We spent a couple of hours in line with them. Nice people. Once the pushing started, I chose to hang back, because I knew we'd get tickets anyway, and it wasn't worth fighting to keep our places. In the melee, these people ended up ahead of us. Not a big deal, and I honestly didn't care. But they did. They spotted us and said, "hey, you guys were in front of us. Get up here." I keep thinking about them, because it would be so easy to focus on the negative from the day, and the nasty people. This family was a reminder to me that not everyone is out for themselves. I watched them help others in line, giving assistance to one of the moms who'd come alone with her children, and one of her children had gotten hurt. So the mom from the nice family went and got the injured child a band-aid. She understood that there are more important things than having the right place in line.

It made me stop and think about the things I make a big deal over or try to push my way ahead on. And you know, so many times when we think that what we want is more important than someone else, it just isn't. So I've been trying to be more intentional about asking myself that question lately. Am I putting myself ahead of others, and is putting myself ahead worth it?

I keep thinking about Philippians 2:3-4 "3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, 4 not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others."

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not perfect at following Paul's command here. Okay, I fail a lot. But as I think about the time we spent in that crowd, of some of the situations I've dealt with lately, I've thought about how differently it would have turned out had that verse been the guiding principle. And I also wonder how different other situations in my life would look if I continue working on the same.

What about you? Are you good at putting others first? How do you balance putting others first and taking care of yourself?

Today's tea post

Yesterday was a really bad day. The kind of day where everything that could possibly go wrong did, and left me feeling rather overwhelmed. And I could have either posted about tea, or gone to bed. I decided to go to bed because I had to wake up insanely early for today's day of fun.

Last night I went to bed feeling really low and forced myself to count my blessings. Today, I feel so blessed. I'm sitting at a beautiful hotel with a group of amazing friends after having a long drive with conversation that blessed my socks off. None of the hard circumstances from yesterday have changed. But I am so blessed that I am dealing with those circumstances surrounded by some wonderful people. I was thinking about how amazing it is because I didn't have enough room on my Twitter to list every single person here. Which is sooo cool and so wonderful.

So I'm not at a fancy tea place today. Not blogging about a cool place to go get tea, even though the Broadmoor is a very cool place to be. It's just me, with a mug from home and bag of the first tea I could grab, and really cool people. Because sometimes, the enjoyment of tea isn't about what kind of tea you're drinking, or where you're drinking it, but WHO you're drinking it with.

And I love that I can drink it with these friends.

I am a slacker of a blogger

And I have a million reasons why, but I'm here now, so I'm calling it happy.

The daughter project is going as well as can be expected. In my struggle, I've thought up the following new slogans:

Crack kills, but it's better than killing your daughter.
Crack kills, but so does having children.
There are worse things than smoking crack, but I can't think of any.

Okay, fine, I haven't smoked any crack. And okay, fine, I don't plan on it. I'm not sure I'd even know where to get it if I did.

The professionals (who I think would agree that I should start smoking crack) all agree that there is currently nothing to be concerned about and she will grow out of this stage. I may not have any hair left and the rest will be grayer than Father Time, but we will get through it.

So that's this week's update. For now.

Taking my Lenten project to the mall

One of my friends suggested that since my 6yo is my Lenten project, I should do something special with her every day during Lent. I'm not sure I will survive this project.

Tonight's bonding with the 6yo included meeting up with my BFF and her daughter, who is the 6yo's BFF. We went to the kids' art show, and then to the mall.

Now, I've taken the 6yo to the mall just the two of us. I've even taken her to the mall with my 10yo. But let me say this... taking the 6yo with her BFF is a nightmare that should never be repeated. Us moms (is that grammatically correct? I'm too tired to think) even armed ourselves with margaritas. True story. We had dinner at one of the restaurants in the mall at the beginning of our adventure, so we had margaritas (really yummy ones too!). It didn't help.



As we watched the two little girls swinging their arms back and forth, we both agreed that maybe taking the BFFs to the mall hadn't been the best of ideas for the moms, but those girls sure did have a good time. Even though we didn't succumb to a single "buy me this," the girls loved it. That said, I don't think either of the moms will be brave enough to take the little girls to the mall again anytime soon. Maybe after a few more margaritas and twenty years, we'll try it again.

Rest assured that tomorrow's project with the 6yo will not involve malls, or probably anyplace public. I may have to call it a success if we both survive the day. Her room is an incredible mess and she's already been warned that she will not be allowed to anything until said room is clean. Ah, such is the glamorous life of the mother of my daughter.

Lenten intentions

Well, it's the second day of Lent and I've already blown it. Well, I think I blew it before Lent started.

My original plan for Lent was that I was going to go through Mike Bickle's Song of Songs teaching and really spend Lent on focusing on God's love for us, more specifically, God's love for me. After all, isn't that truly what the sacrifice is about?

I was even going to do it interactively on my blog, and invite my readers to participate.

Only... the 6yo happened. We've had a rough year, well, probably longer than that, with her. The past couple of months, her behavior, particularly at school, has gotten worse. We're back to weekly phone calls from the school. I am incredibly worried about her, and while the school is concerned, they keep telling me that they aren't worried because she has great parents. Ugh. So that's the short version.

How it relates to Lent and my change of plans is this:

Last year, I went to an amazing Ash Wednesday service with my friend Kay Day at her old church. LOVED it. Decided that it would be my tradition every year moving forward. Only with the mess with my 6yo made me forget to arrange things with Kay, so then I decided I'd just go by myself. Only THEN... due to ANOTHER situation at school, I ended up spending my Ash Wednesday morning dealing with my 6yo. And there I was, driving in traffic, passing all these churches with Ash Wednesday signs, 6yo in my car whining about something, and I was mad. Mad that I didn't get to do my church tradition because my 6yo was being a royal pain. Why was God making me deal with her and not get to spend time with Him?

And then it hit me. Here I am, with this little girl who needs her mom to love on her and minister to her, and all I was worried about was how I didn't get to go to my church service. That sounded a lot more like being a Pharisee than a Christian to me. God doesn't care whether or not I go to Ash Wednesday service at this church that I love. He does care if I'm being loving and not resentful toward my daughter.

So this Lent, I am not focusing on me. At least not directly. It's going to be about focusing on my daughter. I haven't completely figured out what that looks like yet, but I do know that it's going to be about giving up some of those moments of "me" so that I can focus on her. No, I'm not going to take it to the extreme of turning her into a pampered little princess. But I am going to look deeper into my priorities to see where they need to be aligned differently. Which is weird, and I never thought I'd go there, especially now, when I am devoting more time than ever to her care, but I want her to be a joy again.

Yes, I know, in the end, this will benefit me. But mostly, I want this time to benefit her. I harbor no illusions that this will "fix" her. I was told yesterday that one (out of many) of her issues will likely take months to fix. I suspect that most of what we're dealing with is just who she is, and in this, we're going to have to find a way to balance the accepted norms of behavior with the fact that she dances to her own song in her own time. Because that's how God made her.

Anyone else finding Lent to be especially challenging this year?

Guess what came in the mail today?

When I went outside to get the mail, I saw a huge box sitting on the step from Simon and Schuster. My first thought was, "huh, I didn't order anything from them." I brought it in and debated what they could be sending me. When I opened the box, at first, I didn't see which book it was, just that it appeared to be the same book. I was slightly disappointed, thinking, "great, they sent me a bunch of the same book." Then I realized WHICH book it was.

I wrote this story about my grandma just before she died this summer. It's been a rough few months, and finding out that this story was accepted was a bright spot in those hard times. Since then, it's still been rough, but as I opened the box, and re-read the story, I was once again encouraged. Then my ten year old read the story and said, "Mom, you're my inspiration."

I'm not sure I can find the words... only to say that I am so thankful that in the midst of all the hard stuff I've had to go through, I am blessed beyond measure with such amazing encouragement. It's a reminder that even when everything isn't going the way you want it to, you can still find a few bright spots.

Grandma, I miss you. Even though I couldn't honor you the way I'd planned, I know this story honors you just as much.

For those of you who'd like to get the full story, the book is available for pre-order on Amazon.

Fighting my way up

My original intent on posting today was going to be a blog about how proud I was of myself- I wanted to share my good news about some minor, but important accomplishments, and then see what everyone else had done that was good so we could encourage each other.

And then, those irritating birds swooped in. If you've read my "Shoo!" post, you know exactly what I'm talking about here.

Today, I finished the edits on a book I've been wanting to submit forever. It's been ready to send, but I keep finding minor things I want to change/verify/etc. I made a commitment to submit it by the ACFW conference, so I've been pushing to get it done. I got to the point of putting the proposal together to send to my agent tonight.

As I looked up the entry for word count, I found a huge problem: I'm 12k over the allowed word count.

I know it sounds dumb, but I wanted to cry. Still do. I've worked so hard on this silly book, and you know what? I'm proud of it. I read it and think, wow, this is a good book, and I hardly ever do that. So here I am, 12K to cut and days away from reaching my goal. Talk about discouraging.

Today, I also did a very brave thing. My Nia class was getting too expensive, and I was tired of having to pay for it even when I missed. With my schedule, I'd been having a hard time making them all. So I bit the bullet and joined a gym that allows me flexibility to go to whatever classes I want, whenever I want. They don't have Nia, but I think it'll work fine.

Here's the brave part: I went to the gym for the first time today. Maybe it's stupid, since I thought I'd conquered that whole exercise class fear thing. But I was really terrified of going. It's like that fear chicken decided to pop right up and say, "BWAK!"

I did a yoga class. It wasn't too bad. I didn't look like an idiot. A lady was nice to me (but I was too chicken to ask her name or offer mine). And, the teacher even pointed me out as being a good example of having proper form on one of the poses.

AND I made an appointment with a personal trainer. Yup. I admitted to this barely out of high school buff guy all of my fears, anxieties, and desires for my physical fitness. Is it pathetic that my example is a guy in his 70's? My FIL was out climbing Macchu Picchu this summer. With the shape I'm in, it'd probably kill me.

I'm still not convinced that my sessions with Mr. Buff Young Enough To Be My Kid won't kill me, either, but I've always wanted to climb a mountain. And if I don't try, I never will.

Throughout the evening, though, all kinds of little stuff kept plopping down to steal my joy. I hate that I am working so hard to do all the right things, good things, and all these little headaches keep popping up. Some days, I really wish I could have an easy button. Or at least see the payoff for all of my hard work. Because I think that's where I'm struggling the most right now. I'm working so hard. And instead of encouragement, I get these silly little birds swooping in.

If there is a point to my whining and seemingly bi-polar day, it is this. I REFUSE TO QUIT. Yes, it is true that every time I feel like I'm walking in the right direction, I also feel like a million things are trying to drag me back down and keep me behind. But I'm going to choose to believe that it's only going to make me tougher, stronger, and more capable.

Someday, people will read the book I'm struggling with and have it do something really good in their lives. Someday, I'm going to stand on top of Long's Peak and revel in God's creation.

I want you to know about these struggles, because someday, when I do reach those goals, some people are going to look at those accomplishments and think, "wow, it was so easy for her. I can't do it because I'm not as (fill in the blank) as Danica is." And that's so far from the truth. I don't have it all together, and some days, it takes all the strength I have to even attempt to do the things I need to do. But if I stop, it'll all be for nothing. Which, to me, is far more depressing than continuing the fight.

Whatever your goals are, keep fighting. Keep shooing away those nasty little birds. And someday, we'll stand on the mountain together.

How clean is clean?

Today was not supposed to be about cleaning my house. We went to Home Depot to get some seeds for our garden. Hubby decided it was also time to get a new toilet. Now, you have to understand- I've been wanting a new toilet for the main bathroom for a while now. Our current toilet is one of those low flow environmentally friendly pieces o' crap. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about being environmentally friendly. But the makers of these toilets forgot to look at one thing in making these toilets- little butts. When my tiny butted 5yo sits on the potty and poops, the poop does not land in the middle, as the toilet assumes. Nope. It lands directly on the spot that only gets a tiny little swish of water. The result: every time my 5yo poops, it remains stuck on the side of the toilet. She flushes and flushes and flushes, but it never gets rid of all the poop. So guess who has to clean the toilet?

As hubby led me to the toilet aisle (and really, how often do we get to say that one?), we passed the paint aisle. When we bought our house, the house was in desperate need of interior paint. So far, the only rooms we painted have been bedrooms and my office. Our Christmas present from my mom last year was paint for the living room and dining room- we just needed to pick the colors. Which we haven't done yet. But I recently got a coupon for free paint samples, so I thought I'd pick up some samples and finally figure it out. We decided we want to do one of those cool painting techniques. So as I passed the paint aisle on the way to the toilet aisle, I thought it'd be great to test the new technique on the bathroom. If we paint while the old toilet is out, it'd be so much easier to paint the bathroom.

I arrived home, armed with new toilet and paint chips so I could decide which colors I wanted to sample. When I entered the bathroom, the first thing I saw was... poop. Yep. The whole reason for the new toilet. So I did what I do. I started scrubbing. Which led me to think that I hadn't scrubbed the other three toilets in the house in a while, so I did my usual toilet scrubbing routine. Which led to the upstairs bathroom and realizing how gross it was. Hubby had just re-grouted the tub, but for some reason, it split and was already falling out. For some reason, that really bugged me today. So I decided to take out the yucky grout and clean the tub. As I felt the satisfaction of getting out the yucky grout, I realized the rest of the grout was dirty. So I got out the bleach pen and toothbrush and cleaned that grout too.

Cleaning the grout, however, made me realize how disgusting the baseboards in the bathroom were. So I took the toothbrush to the baseboards. Which led to me realizing how disgusting the floor was. It's that yucky pitted linoleum that never seems to get clean. Since I had the toothbrush, I decided, hey, why not deep clean the floor too? So I grabbed a scrubber and I got down and scrubbed the floor.

Which led to cleaning another bathroom. For everything I cleaned, I noticed one more dirty thing. I hit a point where I knew I should quit because if I didn't, my body was going to be sore. But the newfound cleanliness was addictive. I craved more clean. So I kept going.

Somewhere between scrubbing the ring around the toilet with a toothbrush and taking that same toothbrush to the space between the baseboards and the tile, it hit me. This is a lot like the sin in our lives.

It starts with noticing one place to improve. Which leads to finding more dirty spots. And more and more and more and more... However, sin is a lot like my dirty house. No matter how hard I scrub, no matter where I scrub, the kids or the dog or the man is going to run through the house with dirty feet, and I'm going to have to scrub again.

How often do we scrub at the sin in our lives, cleaning one place only to find that it doesn't stay clean very long. Even if we slap a coat of paint on it or do a major remodel, our human bodies are just human bodies. We can never make ourselves perfect, just like our homes will never be perfectly clean.

But we sure try to make it that way, don't we?

Some days, my greatest wish is to have a magic button that would get my house in order. I may not be able to push a button and get the Jetsons maid, but at least with my spiritual life, I have a God who does just that. I can't scrub my life clean, but God gives me a clean slate. If I just trust Him to give it to me.

Who's cleaning your house?

Finding redemption for the hard places in unexpected ways

It's been a rough few days. I feel like everything in me has been pulled every which way and I've been begging God for just a little break. Tonight, I feel like He's given me one- not from all the things plaguing me, but a change in my perspective that's strengthened my resolve to push through it.

I spent most of the day at the hospital with my friend I blogged about two weeks ago. Unfortunately, the issue that landed her in the hospital two weeks ago was not resolved and she had to go in for another procedure. So of course, I went to be there with her.

It's interesting how things that hurt in your past can be used to help someone in the present. My friend had never gone under anesthesia and was terrified of what that would look like- I'd felt the same when I'd had to go under a couple of years ago. Only for me, I'd done it alone, tried to be brave, and had no one holding my hand. It felt good to be able to redeem my own bad experience by being there for her. I know it comforted her to be told she wasn't crazy for feeling the way she felt, and to be told that her feelings were okay. She didn't have to be be brave. She had someone to turn to afterward and be weepy, silly, and joyful all in the same breath without worrying that she'd be told to pull herself together or other nonsense. She came out smiling, with the joyful statement, "I am articulate again," and someone was there to smile with her.

One of the biggest blessings for me was how this helped me realize the blessing in my own struggles. Today is April 15th. Tax Day. A year ago, I wouldn't have been able to be there for my friend. I would've had to have told her that I was very sorry there was no way I could get the day off, but I'd pray for her. I would have missed that joyful celebration of her ability to articulate. No one would have told her that it was okay to feel the way she felt. She would've sat alone in that hospital bed, dealing with something no one should have to walk through alone. But I got to be there.

And see, as much as I celebrate not having my tax job, you need to know it hasn't been easy. I miss the work. I miss my friends. I miss my clients. And, to be really honest, I really miss the money. When God asked me to quit the job, I guess I expected that there would be a reward for my obedience. Not this horrible financial struggle that has me praying for every penny to balance things at the end of the month. I quit my job, and life got harder.

So here it was... the payoff. Materially, I am no better off. All the things I thought would happen because I obeyed God and quit my job did not happen. But wow... God gave me something even more special. He gave me the ability to let someone I love dearly, who is in the midst of really hard times, know that she is precious. I have to believe that giving this gift to my friend is far more valuable than any of the things I thought were important.

God hasn't given me a break in any of the stuff I'm going through right now. Yet today taught me that the stuff I went through a couple of years ago, hard stuff that made me wonder if I'd survive it all, is being used today to help someone else. I have to believe that my struggles of today will be used for good tomorrow.

On the way home from the hospital, my friend said something that made me think even deeper about this. Yesterday had been one of the worst days of her life. Then she started comparing it to all the other things that could have happened, how it could have been so much worse, and she realized that if yesterday was the worst her life had gotten, her life was pretty darn good!

It made me feel selfish for all the petty whines I've brought before God lately. I continued to process it all through the evening, and when I finally got her settled in bed and I was able to leave, I started to think about all the tiny prayers I'd uttered throughout the day, and realized how faithful God has been. Many of them were quick "God, I don't know what to do about this" prayers. As I drove home, God showed me all the ways He took care of them. It occurred to me that had He not pointed them out, I'd have never made the connection that God had arranged it all so perfectly. I wonder how many times we don't think God has answered our prayers because we're not paying enough attention to make the connection between the prayer and the resolution to our problems.

So tonight I am thankful. Thankful that God cared about me enough to perfectly fit together all the details of today that worried me. Thankful that God brought my friend through her procedure and everything is going to be fine. Thankful that God allowed me to see how He'd worked out so many things I'd never even considered.

Do I still want a break? Absolutely. I can't tell you how done I am with all of this junk I'm dealing with right now. But knowing that my hard junk from the past found redemption in my ability to help my friend makes today's junk a little easier to endure. I don't know how any of what I'm going through now will help anyone else. I choose to believe, though, that someday, there will be a payoff. It probably won't look anything like what I hope for, but God will use it for something better. If I'm willing to look for it.

Partially Written

I keep starting blog posts and not finishing them- lots to say, and yet, I lose the steam to finish writing them. I know some of it has to do with how busy I am right now. And the rest- I'm starting to think that my world, like my blog posts, is partially written.

What does that mean?

I look at all the stories I've started and abandoned. Some for good reason, but oftentimes, I think it's because I don't really know where I'm going. I realized that's sort of like my life right now. My story is going on all around me, but it feels like it's not moving forward.

Or at least that's how I've felt lately.

I feel like I've been in the same place for so long and I've been wondering if this is really where I'm supposed to be. I can see places in my life where I know I made wrong turns. And here I am, trying to stay on the right path, but not feeling like I'm going anywhere. Then I read this great article by Rachel Hauck called Dodging Raindrops.

When she talked about going before God with her writing, I realized something. It's been a long time since I've gone to God and asked Him, "What am I supposed to be doing?" I did that years ago, and I've been plodding on that course ever since. I've been praying for success on that course, but I can't say that I ever checked back to see if it's still the right one.

Then in church, our pastor talked about hearing from God, and why we may not be hearing from Him. Two of the points really hit me: one was whether or not we were asking questions of God and what He wanted, and the other was that we may be in disobedience.

Years ago, I thought I'd learned the lesson about my disobedience. God called me on the carpet over things He'd asked me to do that I hadn't done. He made it clear that until I completed those tasks, I wouldn't find success in anything else. So I obeyed Him. Since then, it never occurred to me that I might be living in disobedience again.

So I prayed a brave prayer that had me wondering if I'd regret it. Lord, if there is an area in my life where I'm being disobedient, please show me and tell me what I need to do to fix it. I'd just opened the door for massive correction, and I hate opening that kind of life-changing can of worms. But God didn't show me anything.

I also prayed another scary prayer. God, if this is really what I'm supposed to be doing, I'll keep doing it for as long as you need me to do it. Just give me a sign that I'm still in the right place. And if I'm not in the right place, please tell me where to go. Again... scary. I'm not real fond of the unknown.

All these prayers left me in a place of unease that I don't really like. God has asked me to do some pretty crazy things in my life. What was He going to ask of me this time? I feel like I've been stretched in so many ways lately, and when I haven't been praying for direction, I've been praying for a break.

Today, I got an encouraging email. Two devotionals I wrote are being considered for publication. No, it's not the book deal I've been working for, but it's a sign. Of God saying that He knows where I'm at. I'm on the right path. And my story isn't finished yet.

My life is in bits and pieces of development. Like the stories I have sitting on my hard drive. Some are more complete than others, just like the different pieces of my life. Since my life story is only partially written, I can't see the bigger picture of where all this is going. And unlike with my books, I don't have the synopsis to tell me where the story is going next. Only God does, and He seems to like keeping that information to Himself. I'm learning to be content in that. To accept the partially written story of my life and to keep plodding along, even if it doesn't look like it's going anywhere. At the same time, I need to keep checking back to make sure I'm still in the story God has planned for me.

The cool thing about all of our partially written stories is that they don't end until our lives end. Which means even if God comes back with the answer that we're on the wrong path, or that we've been disobedient, there's still time to change directions so we can have a better ending.

Modern-Day Foot Washing

For the past several years, my good friend Kay Day has talked about the Lent services at her church. Because of my work schedule, I could never go, but listened in awe as she told about the moving services. This year, since I no longer work my tax job, I was able to participate. Ash Wednesday was amazing. And so... I've been looking forward to tonight, Maundy Thursday, for a really long time.

Earlier this week, I found out that one of my good friends was coming to town. Our original night to get together- tonight. Oops. Realized it wasn't going to work. I sent the dreaded email of "Please God, let her be able to move to Wednesday night so I can go to Maundy Thursday." After lots of crazy maneuvers, it turned out that Wednesday ended up being the perfect night for us to get together.

Then, hubby dropped the bomb. He had to work Thursday night. And try as I might, I couldn't find anyone else to help with the kids. I was so depressed to be missing Maundy Thursday, and, the supposed highlight of the service, a foot washing ceremony.

And then I got the phone call to change everything.

My best friend Sara called me from the hospital. We'd made lunch plans for today so our kids could get together during spring break, and would it be terribly inconvenient if I moved things around to a different time and place? She'd meet us once she got out of the hospital.

As she talked and told me of her ridiculous plans to make everything work out all right despite being in the hospital, I made plans of my own. I canceled everything for the day. I even told hubby the kids would not make it to the sacred soccer practice. I wasn't going to let her be strong on her own during her time of need- even though she claimed she didn't need anything.

Today, I helped clean her house. I made her sit and drink tea. I let our little girls play together. I cooked her dinner. And then we watched The Blind Side together.

It wasn't an elaborate ceremony. I just did for her what she shouldn't do for herself. She thought she could do it on her own. She'd argue with me, but her pasty white skin told me a different story. She thought she had to be strong. Because she's used to be being strong. She couldn't see how weak she was.

And as I drove home tonight with my kids sleeping in the backseat, I realized that I got to go to a foot washing ceremony after all.

The disciples all thought they were capable of washing their own feet. They had no idea how desperately they needed Jesus. Jesus, though, could see their hearts. Just like He sees ours. And He knows how desperately we need Him. Even when we argue and try to do it ourselves.

My friend Sara didn't need her feet cleaned. But she needed the dishes washed, the meal cooked, and someone to sit with her and tell it was okay not to have to be superwoman today. And that, I believe, is a more powerful foot washing ceremony than anything a church could put on. Jesus wasn't about the formalities and traditions, even though it is nice to know them. Jesus wanted us to actually get out and do something practical with those teachings. They do us no good if all we have is the theory.

The biggest blessing to come from this wasn't what she got. It's what I got. As I cared for my friend, God showed me intimate pieces of Himself. The places where my past disappointments intersected with my present ability to minister to my friend's hurts. He showed me how the Bible isn't just something we read, but something we live, and even when we do it imperfectly, our attempts bless others tremendously. He showed me joy in the middle of tremendous disappointment.

Most of all, He reminded me that while it's good to sometimes take his command to wash one another's feet literally, we should also look at it figuratively. In today's world, where we live in such disconnect, stepping into one another's lives and caring for each other in basic ways we take for granted is a powerful way of loving one another.

My hope, and my challenge to you, is to not disregard the power of friendship. Taking the time to be there for someone who needs you- whether it be washing dirty dishes, making dinner, watching a movie, or even just letting that person know that it's okay to not be strong for a little while- can mean the world to someone. I only know this because she once did the same for me.

They're ugly, but they're mine

On my visit to San Jose, Camy decided to teach me how to knit socks. I was semi excited about the prospect. The only problem with learning a new knitting skill is that my old habit of using really bad words tends to flare up. It took me a month, but I am proud to say that I now have my very own pair of homemade knitted socks.

They're ugly, but they're mine.

I've decided that what I like about knitting is that there's a lot of instant gratification. It's pretty easy to see your progress. Of course, it's also to see a lot of mistakes, which is where the bad words come in. One thing I've learned about knitting, though, is that while I do strive for a certain level of quality, I don't beat myself up for when things don't turn out perfectly. These socks are pretty darn ugly and full of mistakes. I think I ripped the first one out four times before finishing, and the second got ripped out twice. I should have ripped out the toe and fixed it, but I was too ready to be done, so the toe is funnier looking than it should be. But guess what? I don't care. I'm wearing warm knitted socks.

Maybe it's not the grand victory that will change my life. But today, it's the victory I needed after tons and tons of stress.

What makes you feel victorious?