Spider Crabs, Lemon Sharks and Pura Vida

Tonight I took my son to the park...or at least I thought it was the park. The moment we set foot in the play area, I was immediately transported to the eye of my son's imagination. In the snap of a finger, we became pirates, sailing on the high seas, fighting off sharks (who, ironically, liked to eat rocks.)

In the next moment, we were heroes on a submarine, diving through the arctic ocean, saving every kind of marine life from a lemon shark (named Lemmy of course) and a spider crab (which, Im not even sure exists)...and in the end, we raced to a volcano to save the lemon shark and the spider crab in time to get to their birthday party, (the crab's 1003rd birthday I believe?) and celebrate with a cake made of rocks (go figure...) and chocolate sea grasses.

As my sweet, brave boy and I jumped from one adventure to the next, I couldn't help but sit back and smile. Story after story rolled off his tongue like it was nothing, each interwoven with it's own intricate detail, pulled from the tendrils of his imagination. The more I played with him and engaged in his fantasy with him, the better it became. I lost myself in the moment with him and realized I was creating this story with him. (I'll take credit for that rock and chocolate sea grass cake, thanks...You're welcome, Spider Crab.) I was...having fun?

I was surprised to realize that, while I write for a living, I couldn't remember when was the last time I had sat back and let my imagination run free... To have the reckless abandon of a 3 year old's mind was...liberating to say the least. No constraints, no walls, no logic...just pure imagination. Just pure story.

I wonder if, sometimes, God sits with us and interweaves our stories with us...and yet we limit ourselves by the capacity of our own imagination. We are afraid to dream, to soar, to look outside of our little worlds, and yet, our Father, filled with love, wants to drive us to dream further; to reach the life that He has for us outside of what we can see. I wonder if, He smiles when he sees our creativity and yet, His heart breaks when He realizes yet again, we have stopped before making the choice...taking the path that would have taken us to "life to the fullest.

We all have dreams. There are countless nights my husband and I have sat up throwing around ideas. A coffee shop...a restaurant...an arcade and pizzaria...living in South America...living in London...writing books and childrens stories and music...and yet, we allow ourselves to be limited by ourselves. And I realize, Im not living my purest story...my purest life...

A long time ago, on a trip to Costa Rica, I committed myself to living what the Ticos called Pura Vida. Pure life...a life full of experiences, ups and downs, but always to a full extent. Sometimes in my day to day, my outside dreams get blocked by the walls of a cubicle.

Maybe I need to take some notes from the reckless abandon my son has...maybe I need to return to my Pura Vida and reclaim the life God has outstretched for my family...Im not sure what that looks like, but I've got an imagniation and a will wide open to it...

Keeping Marriage Classic

This spring and early summer, the hubs and I have spent a lot of time (and money! ugh...) fixing up our house in the hopes of selling it this summer. (3 bedroom, 1 bath, anyone??) Over the last 5 years of our marriage and especially the last 3 of living in this house (think the movie Money Pit...we've come a long way, baby!) one of the most fun growing and changing things about our relationship has been how we have overcome these hurdles...we have picked out paint together, we have laid flooring together, we have cleaned the paint we picked out off of that flooring (Im a little clumsy when I paint. oops!). We have rearranged, redecorated, and remodeled until my former love of going to IKEA is replaced with my dread of ever seeing the kitchen department again. And yet, as we were working on our dining room, I had an interesting thought...

Lets go back in time about 7 years ago when my husband-then-boyfriend got me his first "big gift", a painting print of a European Cafe. At the time, I loved it. I'll never forget how he dragged himself up in the middle of the night to get it at a black friday sale  (which was an act of love in itself, because this is the hardest guy in the world to get up early), because he wanted me to wake up to it for my birthday.

Now as we were looking to redecorate our home, I was having trouble finding a "perfect" place for it. We tried it on one wall and then another, and another, and another until my husband was almost ready to throw the hammer down (literally). Then, through communication and listening to each others thoughts and ideas, we found a new, perfect place to hang it in our dining room. A place that had always been there, but we had never really looked at it that way. But then again, how could we have missed it? The colors, the feeling, the blending of the wall with the pop of the painting. It was always one of my favorite pieces and it held so much love, I would have hated to just store it away. And now, it's like the room is renewed...refreshed...like we have a brand new wall.

Sometimes I think marriage is like this old painting in a new spot. We love what it stands for, we cherish where it came from, we adore what it means in our lives, but we fail to communicate, to keep dialoguing until we can move the "painting" together from the old stagnant place it was in, gathering dust and not shining to a new place in the home, cleaning it up and making it sparkle in our lives again. A lot of people in my generation think, eh, you just need a new painting. Yeah, you liked the old one, but really, there are "SOOOOO many more pieces of art out there", so many more "new designs" and "fresher ideas", when they fail to realize, if they would just invest more time and love into the "piece of art" they already have, they can make a classic come alive again.

When my husband and I worked together and found the perfect spot for this painting, we smiled at each other and gave a little hug, both of us knowing what significance this piece of art meant to us and the history of our love and our relationship.  Now, 5 years into our marriage, I stop and smile at that painting in it's new spot. And like that painting, I know there will be times when our marriage will feel old and dusty. There may even be times when we feel tempted with new designs...but its our committment to each other, to our love and to what our home...our family was built on that keeps this "work of art" a classic.

The Untouchables...

Im about to rock your world...shake your foundations...shock you to the core...I am Not Perfect.

Not a perfect wife...not a perfect mother...not a perfect Christian...

and Im about to tell you why.

If you're a busy wife and mom like me, you know there are the rooms and places in your home that you clean, just in case people stop by...then there are...the Untouchables...the little things in our lives we hope no one ever sees...Sometimes it's the upstairs bedrooms...sometimes its that crockpot you leave soaking in the hopes your husband will take the hint and wash it before you get home...sometimes its the piles of laundry masked behind a door...either way, we all have untouchables. And we seem to not care about them. Until the chance someone could see them...then the frantic dash happens...We rush about to scrub and clean and wipe and fold and put away...we dust off until we can see it again...we hide the clothes so the room looks clean, instead of actually putting them away. We would never want anyone to see them...to know we have Untouchables...

Spiritually, we all suffer from Untouchables. These versions, however, bring much more danger to our souls...its the little secrets you keep, the struggles you face, the things you brush aside and think dont matter, until someone could see them.. What if someone knew YOUR untouchable? And so we rush around, trying to hide them deeper and further in the closets of our souls...hoping beyond hope that our friends and family wont see the corners of them peeking out from the places we push them...they wont notice the smudges of darkness still left on our hearts. We fear the judgement that would come if someone knew about our Untouchable. What would they think of me? Would they still love and respect me? How can I move past it?

These untouchables, like any mess in our lives, seem small at the time, but have the potential to spirtually cause destruction in our lives...and for many an Untouchable, a quick brush into our hiding place doesnt heal the issue that is still there...Its time to take hold of your untouchable. Bring it to light and truly clean it from your life.

Its time to clean out your Spiritual Closet...what Untouchables are you hiding? And when you clean, clean them out for good...and just like many big, messy jobs, you may not be able to do it alone...so dont be afraid to ask for help.

A Father Becomes A Son...

This post is another one that has been brewing for several weeks now...Usually when they brew for a while, like a good coffee, the thoughts seem to be richer and fuller...hopefully, it's Starbucks worthy...

Over the holidays, my grandfather, my Papa, passed away. The one call you never really like to get on Christmas Eve is your mom, in tears, because your Dad just lost his own Dad...I think a lot of us made the motions of the holidays this year, with that thought looming over, but there was also joy in knowing Papa was partying with Jesus in Heaven this year...

At the funeral the following week, I tried to detach, to disconnect, because that is my escape clause. That is how I get everyone else through it. They can't lean on me if I am weak and so I turn myself off. Not sure if that's a God-given gift or not, but I can recount several times when my inner strength has gotten my own family through some really dark waters. I am also built with an emotional release valve...when everyone has been taken care of, then I let go...

I did a pretty good job, until a thought jarred my release valve...Sitting there in the rows behind my family I saw the people in my life known as Grandma (Mimi), Dad, Uncles and Aunt transform before my eyes...Suddenly, my grandmother was a wife...a widow who's husband and the love of her life laid in the box before her...I saw my father, the oldest, become a son whose shoulders had spent a lifetime bearing weight they shouldnt always have had to bear alone...I saw my uncles, weird and mistake driven as they had been in their lives become brothers who, along with my dad, forgave a multitude of sins on this day and embrace one another again...I saw my aunt, the baby, transform into a little girl who had lost her daddy, and regardless of the strong husband beside her, a little of her own strength and courage was buried that day.

I saw a family that had learned lessons, fought abundantly and loved passionately. And I was reminded of the layers we all have. People are more than just the layer they let you see. They are so much more than that. Once we take the time to understand them beyond the outer shell, the safe zone, we truly begin to know and love them for who they really are. My love for my family went leagues deeper that day, because I began to see them in their various dimensions...

What would your life be like if you loved everyone you encountered in 3D?

And for my Papa, i hope you are proud of all the dimensions you can now see in me.

Train Tables and Perspective...

Even though my son is 3, I still consider myself a relatively new parent. There's still a lot of "we've never done THIS before!" experiences that my husband and I face on a regular basis. ("No, you cannot ride the kitty..." "The puke is where?!"..."The poop HAS to go in the potty son, you can't hide to poop..." and other great tales of parenting) This Christmas, we enjoyed another "first" together as a couple...the first enormous toy from Santa *read as, his Grandparents* that Hubs and I had to spend an unreal amount of time putting together.
As we looked at the size of the box, the innumerable amount of pieces, tracks, wooden pegs, trains, and felt slightly overwhelmed (and incredibly not thrilled) about the task ahead of us...Already we could tell this was at least a 2 hour project...
But as my husband and I opened the instructions and dug in, side by side, a few things happened. We began to laugh and talk about what Gavin was going to do, or say, when he saw this Monstrosity of Choo-Choo-ness...(yes, thats what we named it!) We began sharing our own favorite Christmas memories with each other, reliving past glories when we realized "Santa" and "Dad" had the same handwriting. We laughed about stories from our parents, like the time when my dad had just finished putting the last little decal on the best "kitchen" playset for his little girls, finally crawled up the stairs at 4 am, only to be jumped on by those same little girls at 5 am, because Santa had been there!!! (Santa needed a LOT of coffee that morning...)

Looking at this experience from the eyes from a parent, I thought back to God. I thought, I wonder what it must have been like for Him, as he prepared His gift for us. How extensive those directions must have been! Every strand of Jesus hair, the warmth in his eyes, the hands that would heal and do miracles. Im sure the process was hard, thinking about the wrapping His gift would have to go through before we could receive it. The cross it would have to endure, before the Gift could be fully ready for us. But God our Father, like any good parent, rolled up His sleeves and got to work on the greatest gift of all. And the smile on His face when He saw the joy His Gift brought to the world, much like the happiness explosion we received from one little boy at the sight of his train table, the best gift he had ever seen!

I thought about how much joy and happiness my husband and I experienced in that one moment, when Gavin realized this gift was HIS! and he got to keep it "foreber"! I wondered if that was the same smile bursting happiness God feels when another one of His children opens His Gift, the one that He so lovingly prepared, no matter how hard it was. And in that moment, is it all "worth it" to Him, seeing the love, peace and joy that his Child will now experience through His Gift.

Im not saying Im looking forward to the many more toys to put together, but feeling the victory in that moment, the smile on my child's face, the warm happiness in his heart, and I would do it all over again.

And our Father, would do it for us too. Again and again until all of his Children have their "Christmas Morning" accepting His precious Gift.

So What?: a Lesson in (Christmas) Giving

Recently I read on a friends blog about a woman who had stumbled into their church on sunday. Alone and upset, she had heard about this church plant and wanted to experience it for herself. Her husband had recently been laid off and about 2 miles away from the church, she runs out of gas. In tears and in cold, she walks the remaining 2 miles, only to get to the church as service is tearing down. She asks my friend, the pastor, if he had a little gas money, so she could get home. Without reason, without question of "how much more does she need", without definition of her (true) intentions of this money, people began opening their wallets, cleaning pockets, and giving to this woman in need. All she needed to do was ask.

As I read through his blog, (100 Foot Jesus, matthafer.wordpress.com ) I was incredibly touched by their outpouring of love on this woman. I thought to myself, that's what it's like to love with reckless abandon.

Often when we give, we don't give freely as Christ commands. We give if we've seen the business plan. We give if we know the vision statement. We give if they have outlined which orphans will be getting which shoes and which meals for how long. We still consider it "my money" long after we have proclaimed it "HIS money". We still keep this hold on it, as though it's not worth giving until we can confirm the cause as worthy.

What if we just gave for the sake of Giving?

How many times have you passed a bum, a vet, a stranded driver asking for money, and your first thoughts are "He's just gonna drink this away..." "You have a social security card, right? Go get a job!!" " They don't look homeless at all! Probably just a prank for cash." (yes, because it's easy to go roll around in the dirt, load up a backpack and stand in the freezing cold or blistering heat seeking handouts on the side of the highway...way easier than flipping burgers in a warm McDonalds...)

I wonder what would have happened to us, if Christ thought that before giving his life for our sins...

"What am I doing on this cross? They're just going to deny me anyway?"
"Im not dying for them until I know they're committed to my Plan".
"Why should I provide that job they're praying about. What have they done for my church lately? I mean, look at these scars! I have holes in my wrists!! I don't know if they deserve it."

The bottom line is...when you give, it's not about whether they've earned it, or they deserve it. Its about giving freely, because freely, He gave to us.

Try a little giving this year...you may suprise yourselves with how good it feels once you kick those inhibitions to the curb.

A Parent's Prayer and a Mother's Heart...

When Gavin was born, I used to stare at him, the shape of his little mouth, the curve and intricacies of his ears, the deep, vibrant brown of his little eyes...and I would be amazed every time at the tremendous responsibility and love God had given our family in this child. Every lesson, every reaction, every perspective was ours to instigate, to give him the best foundation in life. One of the key responsibilities we feel as parents is to instill in our son the importance of a lifelong relationship with Jesus.

Our church is undergoing an epic building project for our home and future location as a congregation. I was walking through it with my husband last night and realized for a moment where we were standing. We looked down, and according to the map, we were standing in the kids area...In the exact spot where our son would learn and grow and play and sing and ultimately, fall in love with Jesus...and I asked my husband to do something weird...

As we stood there in the quasi-darkness, I asked him to take my hands and to pray for us, for our son and for this spot. (Im sure we looked like a couple of teens looking for a "dark corner", but I promise, we were praying! :) In that moment, I was overcome by tears and emotions at how much this spot would mean to Gavin and to our family...and how all the other spots in this place would have meaning to him as well.

We prayed that he would grow to be a man of God, a man who makes his choices with integrity. We prayed that he would have friends who would care about him, ask the tough questions and would offer counsel that was God-centered. We prayed for the youth ministry and the future of his leadership. We prayed for the memories, friendships, relationships, choices, soul-stirring convictions and God whispers that would happen in this building.

Then a fear clutched my heart. What if, after all these prayers, dedications and hope, he doesn't choose follow Jesus?What if he chooses another way...what if? And it only took a moment for God to remind me of some truth.

1. Just as it is unseen where all the funds will come from for our new building, I won't be able to see, know or be there for all of Gavin's choices. I have to rely on God to grow our little man from the foundations planted.

2. Just because it is unseen doesn't mean it is unprepared. Someday, my husband and I will have to stand before our Lord and account for our parenting. I want to be able to look at him and know I did everything I could. Every little thing matters...every time he says his own little prayer and asks "Mama, wha's the next 'fing' I say?" and when he prays and thanks God for his toes and his Kitty and his Cars...Every Bible story we read and discuss, explaining how God can whisper to his heart, just like he whispered to Samuel...Every time we say "Good Morning" to the sun and "Good Night" to the moon and he asks me "Who made 'dem' ?" I want to infuse God and His awesome power and love into every interaction.

Gavin is going to fail and make mistakes...even now, I feel like I say his name 50 times a day.... But, truth is, his daddy and I mess up all the time. I know we're not going to be the perfect example. But I want to give it all I've got, so in the end, our little man will know that the relationship his daddy and I treasure with Jesus and the freedom we have found in Him can be his too...it's there for the taking.

Real Community and the Church Face...

For many of us who grew up in the church, there were times where it felt like we were there more than anywhere else...Sunday Mornings, Sunday Nights, Youth Group, Wednesday Nights, (then changed to the not-so-different, but trying-to-be-cooler) Tuesday nights,..for a kid whose greatest relationships, friendships (and a few boyfriends) were found at church, I never really had an issue with it. The hardest part though was putting on "the face..."

You know what "face" Im talking about...Someone would be ticked at someone else over something, either serious concerns or ridiculous drama (with 2 girls in the house, ours was often the second) You would fight and argue and tear down all the way to church in the car, but the minute those minivan doors slid open, you had your Church Face on...the face that said, "Nothing could possibly be wrong with me or in my life because I am a Christian...and we are a Christian family...". And on those occasions where the secrets slipped and the face fell off, you were mortified to think what they were all *gasp!* thinking of you...and I had to think...is this Real Church? Real Community? Or are we just putting on faces? And when we come to our church is it to make others lives fuller or is it sometimes, just adding checkmarks to our attendance books?

A funny thought hit me recently...There isnt a day that goes by that Im not experiencing real life...real community with someone from my church family. Whether it's a facebook comment, phone call, text message, or small group conversation, the interesting thing is, we're doing life together. There have been times when my "face" has fallen off and they didnt care. They talked with me, prayed with me, cried with me....Even in moments of personal frustration, when I may have contemplated going somewhere else for church, I knew that I couldnt because my family...my community...would come for me. They would pursue me, and want to know if I was ok. They would ask me the tough questions, have the deep conversations, tear back the patchwork bandage I had on my spiritual wounds and pour the healing salve of love onto my self-inflicted spiritual gashes, caused by keeping my struggles and secrets locked inside. Its this thought that has reminded me time and time again this week, how much I love how our church loves on people. We pursue deeper relationships, just as God pursues our hearts.

Picture for a moment a mountain...a large, snowcapped monstrosity waiting to be overcome. I've never been much of a climber myself, but I do know that they have strict regulations about anyone going it alone. Climbers go in pairs or groups to help one another along the way. When the one leading gets tired, another will carribeen up to relieve them and offer support. They are all usually tethered to one another, sharing in each victory and each difficulty. They are experiencing this life, this moment together...

Sure, it's totally possible to fade in and out of church, just like anyone else...but if your heart is there for the right reasons, its impossible to ignore the challenge and call to community. It's how Jesus did it...it's how we should do it...let your "Church Face" fall off and be real with those in your community...because the mountain Life was not meant to be overcome alone.

My Wedding Vows...Remixed

Today is my 4th wedding anniversary...I look back on my marriage and see how far we've come...through feast and famine, love and heartache and back to love again...I love to see how we've grown and changed...Here is a letter I wrote to my husband back on the second anniversary...it still rings true today...

i take you to be my lifelong husband, in good times and bad, in leaky roofs, past due medical bills, credit card issues, parking tickets and keys locked in cars...during pregnancy, c-sections, hydropoos on the couch, I take you during spontaneous laughter and floods of tears...for netflix nights of sporadic chinese movies with subtitles and true blood and chinese sundays...for the Naked Chef evenings and the serving ways you show your love to me...for I take you for xbox 360 and how you look like an adorable little boy with your headset on...for peanut butter pancakes... for the smiles we share when our son does something that is so much a part of both of us, we fall deeper in love with each other in a moment...for the father you are and the one I know you will be...i take you for secret conversations only we know...the moments that make sense only to us...for jam sessions, worship music and finding my perfect harmony...for frustrations beyond belief, first time celebrations and a deeper joining faith that God really does have a plan for us...

"Oh You Can't Get To Heaven..."

If you grew up in a Christian home, went to church (and sunday school and wednesday night service and church camp and...) on a regular basis, you probably have heard this little diddy...

" Oh you can't get to heaven...in a Mini Skirt....Oh you cant get to Heaaaaaven....in a Mini Skir-ir-rt..." The tag line for why, you, oh mini-skirted one, can't get to heaven, is because "God Don't Want No Little FLIRT"....then it proceeds (rather contradictally) "All my sins are washed away, I've been redeemed...."

While a blast to sing along with around a campfire...the lyrics are kind of terrible, because the truth is...God does want you...all you little flirts in mini skirts, all you little snots in Kleenex boxes...God wants YOU. God LOVES YOU. and at this very moment, He is passionately pursuing YOU. (Let that sink in for a moment)

There's a huge misconception about church and having a relationship with God that says you have to be perfect before you can darken his doors...you have to clean up, spit-shine, comb your hair and yes, while those are all good things (in fact, the guy in the pew next to you would probably prefer it if you came to church showered...)those are not, in any way requirements to receive the love of God. The unconditional, overwhelming, intrinsically pure love of God. God wants you, the broken hearted, the worthless feeling, the attitudes-seeking-adjustment, the chips on your shoulders, the messed up, the cheaters and liars...He wants you, and wants to love on you with all He is...

Then He gives you the choice to fall back in love with him...and that is where the change comes in. You realize that He wants good things in life for you, because of His love for you...and that the choices you make, out of love (or sometimes hate) for yourself, are worthless, because you now want to please the God you love. You realize the modesty is worth it, the change is for the better, the life is more rich without the bottle in it...

So you, with that mini skirt, don't listen to some silly song about what God doesn't want...just focus on that last line...when you seek the grace in the gift of Jesus and his sacrefice for your sins, they are all washed away and redeemed...We'll talk about that little modesty issue later...just get in here and get loved.