The Struggle

You say, "Trust Me".
I say, "I've got this. Thanks."
You whisper to my heart, "Trust Me."
I say, "No, really. I've got this. I'm fine. I can do this myself".
You ask, "Please, Trust Me..."
I get angry. " I can take care of this myself!"
You shout to my soul, "Trust ME!"
I cry, " I CAN'T"...

You whisper, "Why?". I return, "I'm scared..."
You hold me close. You say, " I know..."

You show "Trust Me" displayed in the lives of others.
I ponder, "I might...". I look around.
I think within myself, "Look. They trusted. It worked..." I step closer. I pause.
"but they're not me."

I run, I hide, I cry, I stress, I doubt, I question, I look, I search, I balance...
I come UN-balanced.

You speak "IM STILL HERE...". I smile "You haven't left?"
YOU show, YOU love, YOU orchestrate, YOU move...
YOUR Spirit touches, my fears begin to subside...

You whisper, "Trust Me." I whisper, "I will..."

Mommy for Always

5:30 am. The phone rings...I automatically turn it off, because I think it's my alarm and we all know Im a snoozer. It continues to ring. Finally my brain connects that someone is trying to call me at this awful hour of the day. I hear my mother in law's tearful voice on the other end, asking for my husband. She takes her strength from him and has some bad family news to share.



I lay there, listening to my husband melt away, hearing the sadness in his mother's voice. Before getting off of the phone, an amazing transformation occurs. My husband says "I love you Mommy. If you need me Im here..." Mommy? I just heard my 26 year old husband call his mother Mommy? The broad shouldered, exterior of a man has fallen away, revealing heart of the little boy inside who will always love his Mommy and cares that she is hurting. The depth of the mother and son connection hits me so hard that even at this hour of the morning, I am emotionally rocked by it.



In this moment of clarity, I realize...even though I am on the threshold of my baby boy becoming a little man...even though I feel like I am losing those precious Mommy moments, snuggles, hugs and "monster" kisses more and more as each day goes by, in this brief moment I have learned they are never gone forever. When I am truly upset and Gavin sees my tears, even at the tender age of almost 2, he runs over, wraps his little arms around me as far as they will go and says in his sweet voice " I love you toooooo Mommy!"



I have every confidence that my son will grow into a strong and wonderful man, sharing many of the traits of his father. He is like a sponge these days, absorbing everything he can about his Daddy. (Currently these days, he's trying to be a "Chef", taking random kitchen items and "cooking like Daddy!")And if he is anything like his daddy, I know that while the days of Monster Kisses may stay in the past, when the moment is right, I will always be his Mommy.

I'm The Fisherman's Wife...

There's an old proverb of a poor fisherman and his wife...despite their poverty, they were deliriously happy and in love. The fisherman encountered a "magical" fish, who because he caught and released him, gave the fisherman everything he asked. The first wish he made was for his wife, because he loved her so. He wished she could have a beautiful new dress. She had never had one before. As he arrived at home, ready to laugh in disbelief over this craziness of a talking fish, he saw his wife, dancing and spinning like a little girl, in a new dress. The fisherman's heart was full, because he saw the happiness in his wife. When he told her of how the dress appeared, the fisherman's wife began to look around. "Oh husband, just look at this house...all it's cracks and problems...could you go back to the fish and ask him for a new house? it is embarassing to have friends over with all their great homes compared to ours". So, because he loved his wife he went back to the magical fish and asked again for a new home, because he loved his wife.

As Im sure you can tell, with fables such as this, the fisherman's wife went on and on, asking for more and more "stuff". This saddened the fisherman, as he remembered their happy life before, enjoying the love of one another and the simplicity of their home.

Sometimes I feel like I am the Fisherman's wife. I look at the things I have and the things I think Im supposed to have...I treat God like a magical fish and keep asking and asking and never seeing the simple beauty in what I already had. I turn into a person obsessed with keeping up with what society says I should own, instead of looking to dig out of debt, be charitable, and think of ways to use money to help others instead of thinking about what I don't have myself. Its hard as we get older and contemplate the life we think we are "supposed to have". When we don't meet what our expectations say we should, we become so depressed with our current life, we fail to realize it's beauty. We fail to remember we have healthy children, loving relationships, friendship and laughter. We look at the roofs over our heads and only see their flaws instead of being thankful we have them.

Take time to enjoy the precious things, instead of wishing you had more. Fill your life with the haves, instead of the have-nots. Chances are, the rest of the world you're trying to keep up with has just as many have-nots as you do.

If We Are Faithful, He is...Silent?

We live in a world of instant gratification. Here in the magical land of texting, email, twittering, and other mysterious forms of conversation, we are happily placated by our instant responses. Even some of the best marital arguements happen over text and the winner is the one who texts faster...We do not, however, live in a world of silence. Silence is foreign to our generation.

Lately I have been struggling with something between myself and God. It's His silence. Not silence in a "we've had a fight and are not speaking" but silence in the fact that I have prayed and looked to Him for answers on a topic and still am not hearing...which in turn makes me pray harder and listen to His voice with more intensity...As mentioned in previous posts, I am a self-proclaimed control nut....so as one might imagine, this silence and waiting period has not been the easiest for me. :)

I've done so much searching scripturally on God and his faithfulness, his grace, his voice...and feel as though I have come up either empty or guilty. In what I had initially found God tells us not to worry about food or clothing or shelter...He will provide. And he has. I have all of the above. Food...yes. Shelter...absolutely...Clothing...a shamefully embarassing amount. So why am I feeling guilty? Because there are things I have been seeking that go beyond basic need. Do I have a right to ask for those things? Do those things matter to God because they matter to me?

It would seem like the world is against me every time I get close to those things.

Exhibit A...Many of our friends know this, but in the 3 years my hubs and I have enjoyed marital bliss, we have yet to be able to celebrate a "real" anniversary. We have loved the things we had done in the past, because, no matter how inexpensive they were, they were expressions of love to one another. But this year, it seems like we have really overcome much larger hurdles in our relationship and we both had the desire to celebrate in a big way.

I have been putting money aside, in the hopes that a real romantic evening can be had, and if possible, something special...beyond our usual nights out. And yet, car batteries die and precious guitars mysteriously get broken...and so my "Romantic Anniversary Fund" dwindles before my eyes...

I spent yesterday so confused...I didn't understand this concept of Faithfulness anymore...We have made a concentrated effort as a family to be more faithful in our relationship with God. We had increased our giving, gotten more involved in church, brought friends and family...And yet I was brought back to this question of, "if we have grown in our faithfulness, where is He?" And then the guilt returned...I have basic needs...What am I asking God for? He has so many other people to worry about.

Two reoccuring things ran through my mind...a friend had once reminded me, in the 300 years between the old and new testament, God was silent. But it was in His silence that He was working on the greatest gift in the world...planning the life of His Son, who redeeems us all! Another thing were the lyrics of one of my favorite songs, "How He Loves Us" . The lyrics talk about God's love for us, how his love is like a hurricane that surrounds us...and in the combination of those things I am reminded of the silence in the eye of the hurricane...

See, what we fail to realize in our lives of instant gratification, is that we may be right in the middle of his love, silent but surrounding us...and while we wait on Him for answers, growing in our faith and patience, he is working all around us, caring about our tiniest detail. In all my scripture research, I never searched God and his love...When the Bible talks of God and his love for his children, that's where the outpouring begins...thats where the blessings go beyond basic need to a Father loving his children... The Bible also says that "You do not receive, because you do not ask." Simply because our heavenly Father knows our hearts desires doesn't mean he doesn't love hearing about them.

If you are experiencing the silence...listen to His love speak.

Living the Dream?

I had a crazy dream last night...usually Im known for them. I have learned that the unexpected weird dream often has subliminal meaning....for example, that dream we have all experienced about our teeth falling out will often mean we are afraid of losing control of a situation...weird, I know. But for me, it rings unbelieveably true...

I am a control freak. I make lists upon lists, I do my budget 3 weeks out, I create plans for work, and if I don't have tabs on myself and those around me, I feel the slightest bit insane...The myriad of post it's covering my work monitor are only testimony to my need to balance everything. I remember after I first had our son, I wouldnt take any help offered, out of the need to do it myself. Asking for help would be a weakness, right? and that meant I was a bad mom? After a few days, I waved the white flag of surrender and gradually opened myself to accept the help of loved ones.

Last night's dream seemed to define for me how I feel life is going. There are days I don't feel like Im living, I feel like Im surviving...In this dream, all around me Im walking. The scenery constantly changes, but its mostly me, walking and carrying this ever increasing pile of stuff...in the dream Im almost toppling over at the balance of everything, struggling not to drop anything as though my life depended on it. Then, to my side in the dream, this person appears...I think he was a man, but not anyone I knew...not my husband or a family member or anything like that, and yet I had a familiarity to him. He kept offering me his help, begging to let me give him some of the weight I was struggling with. I remember he was someone whom I had a fondness towards, almost a love, but did not want to put all of my "baggage" on him...Didn't want him to feel my burdens, or know just how "heavy" things had become. Most of the dream after that point was me, tripping and falling and stumbling, but clinging to the weight of my "stuff", while this person never left my side, and never stopped offering his help and support.

It was only after I woke up that I realized what the significance of the dream was...The stuff in my hands was everything I try to balance by myself in life...schedules, finances, relationships, healthy, beauty, friendships old and new, housekeeping, work...work...more work..., worries, fears...I think my fears were the biggest boxes in my hands. I firmly believe the person by my side was representative of a Christ figure in my dream, always by my side, but I had to be willing to share my burden with him, so he could make it light. He would never force me to give it over, but wanted me to know He was there.

Carrying these burdens in life is something we all do. We struggle and stumble and, like me, fail to ask for help, for fear of being seen as a failure or as weak. We think we can manage and do it all on our own, and the truth is, we can't. But that is when He comes alongside of us, supporting us, and helping us carry the weight.

It is only when we rest our struggle in Him, that we stop stumbling and start walking again.

The Worst~Best 4th of July

Sometimes I believe I'm cursed. I tell my family this all the time and they just laugh at me. There are times when I really believe this to be true. There are bad things that happen to myself and my family that just don't happen to other people. On top of that, they trend to happen sequentially...as in a downpour.

It is this cursed existence that has caused me to be an obsessive planner. I live my life through a series of quotes and one of my favorites is "If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail". This is why, on the morning of the 4th, I was shaking blankets, washing coolers, packing toys, sticking snacks in baggies, checking lists, and doing everything possible to ensure that myself and my guests would have a relaxing day...Or rather, they would have a relaxing day, because I had gotten out all of my stressing in the morning.

As a family tradition, we have gone to the Blue Ash Fireworks here in Ohio...Red, White and Blue Ash? Get it...(cue drum and cymbal clash). The plan was leave church, take our (fully stocked) cooler and some fried chicken, board games and other activities and spend the day outside in the nice, comfy grass, watiting to watch the fireworks.

Unfortunately, my curse had other plans...

As we left church, my dad realized that he had locked his keys in the car...ok, no big deal, 45 minutes later, AAA had us on our way. The hubs and I made use of the time and went to the store to fill the cooler, grab some snacks and delicious KFC.

Finally, we arrive at the *new* location for the Blue Ash fireworks and not only can we not bring our cooler in (NOT published on the website!) but the cool, comfy grass is nowhere to be seen, replaced by burning, skin-frying, blacktop parking lot. Add to that the discomfort of ( 3 )diabetics, ( 1) 74 year old grandmother, and a toddler, all without fresh, cold drinks that didn't cost 7 dollars...and you had some seriously uncomfortable people. My hubs, bless him, ran around like a mad man, trying to make everyone as comfortable as possible. (and when I say mad man, the poor guy literally got bruises on his shoulders from carrying everything.)

I sat there, hot, thirsty, and worried about my family, especially my son and grandmother in this heat, and was 30 seconds to tears. My husband had loved this family tradition for years, how can I tell him I wanted to do nothing but go straight back home? My son would really get to see fireworks, how can I take that away from him? My son....my blessing.

As I cooled off mentally and physically, I watched my little guy...playing in some ice and dumping water on his own head. He didn't care! He was there with his people, hanging out and having fun. As the night went on, Gavin did everything possible to make us smile, from eating his bubbles while trying to blow them, to dancing like crazy to the band's music (emphasis on like crazy! coming to a YouTube near you!) and all around being awesome. The night winds came in and cooled us down. The fireworks began. Gavin crawled in my husbands lap to enjoy the show. I watched the two of them, the centers of my world, watching their fireworks together and I thought to myself...this is worth it. This is why I stuck it out today. That little head resting on that big shoulder, with eyes and mouth opened wide as my husband pointed out each big boom...

Halfway through the fireworks show, the comfort of daddy's shoulder coupled with exhaustion took over and Gavin fell comfortably asleep...but that image of my boys staring in wonder will stick with me for a while.

Sometimes we can't plan for everything...sometimes plans fail, even when you have done all you can to succeed. Sometimes you were meant to enjoy something that's off plan. And while Im going to send the city of Blue Ash a very pointed letter about bringing back coolers and grass, I have also learned that a cursed existance can still be a blessed existance. You just have to cool off and look for the good around you.

10 is the new 16?

I have to admit it...Im coming clean...I ...am....an...Entertainment Junkie. I have this tragic addiction to entertainment stories. For some reason, celebrity lives fascinate me, and if allowed, I could lose myself in E television about 24/7.

During one of my times of extensive(...um...ahem....)"research" into the lives of these people, I came across something disheartening...

On a jaunt through People Magazine online one day, I tumbled onto this article by a famous actress (who shall remain nameless). This actress has had issues with her "image" before, but was coming out to say how proud she was of how she looked, didn't care what the photogs thought of her and how she "loves her body exactly how it is, cellulite and all!" At first, my inner self throws up a fist pump! YES! FINALLY! we are getting advocates for Real Beauty out there!! As I read on, however, my heart began to sink. A few sentances down, this same actress who proclaimed loving her self as she was, began to detail her new, improved, hard-core workout program to get into that perfect size and "love herself for real!" B-b-but....You just said? HUH? I thought she did love herself as she was? I sat back and stared at this article for a moment and saw the ads surrounding it. Slim Fast, workout tools, and other fitness regimes slammed me in the face. So...in truth, not only is this article really NOT about loving herself as she is, but also about getting it's readers to subliminally determine that they can neither love themselves as they are, until we reach society's version of perfection. Hmmm...strategic advertising with a side of product placement, methinks...Lets be real here...there's a difference between working out to be healthy and forcing a regime to fit a mentality.

I found another article that caught my eye about a "plus size model." The article described this person as a size 10! Really Media? a size 10? Just because there are double digits does not a plus size make! I dare you to find a 10 in any genuine plus sized store....DARE....

This experience sat in my mind for a few days until last week, when I stumbled upon another article about a "Size 16 model gets engaged!" Why did the article feel it was necessary to throw her size out there? Do they shout about it when the size 2 model has a crazy life event? "HEY! This famous size double negative model gets married..." We never see that, or if I've missed it, it's not something seen often. Why does the world and media feel obligated and justified to let us know her digit? They also question the fiance, leading the reader to feel he was slightly bordering on the insane by stating..."...and we asked her fiance what it was like to be engaged to a curvy woman and he said..." What is the man supposed to say? "EGADS! She's a fatty??" As though the thought that a woman with curves finding love was an extreme concept?

Basically, my rant is this: No matter how much the social media tries to warp the concept of true beauty for women in this world, be healthy, love God and love yourself. Real beauty cannot be defined by the social media. Find whatever the beautiful is inside of you and embrace it, regardless of the size of pants you put on every day.

Chances are I'm not going to end my little indulgences into the lives of the famous...but I will be reading them with eyes opened a little wider.

Pastor's Wife Appreciation Week....

It's about time, don't you think?...allow me to explain...

I don't know what kind of church you grew up in, or if you grew up in a church at all...From my experience, as far back as I can remember, ministry has always been a 2 person job to me. First the husband in the actual job position and then, closely by his side, his wife.

*Disclaimer, please do not read this as "If you are single, you have no bona fide ministry." This is just an observation. Those of you single out there and rocking at your ministries, keep it up*

When I was a little girl, I remember always seeing our pastor's wife, Pat right there in the front row. At the end of each sermon, our pastor would take his wife's hand and together they would leave the church and head to the doors to greet the people as they left. You could see, they were in this together. I've also seen pastor's wives in other roles throughout the church, in varied minsitries and teams. What I've come to realize is this: While the pastor himself deals with the brunt of the work, there is no support system like his wife. She is the well oiled machine, sending the emails, welcoming the people, playing with the children, volunteering to serve, leading by example, making connections, backing up everything behind the scenes that her husband portrays at the front. She is also the one keeping him going when it gets tough, she is the listening ear as he bounces another idea off of her, she is his strength.

I believe that ministry is a 2 person job, because I feel that the partners these leaders have chosen for their lives are divine choices. The most successful ministries I have experienced in my life are those who have that team. This weekend, as I was singing with the band, I observed our pastor's wife in the back of the auditorium, with a big smile on her face, and I wondered, does she know how amazing she is. How all of this would not be the same without her? I thought about the other spouses on our leadership team and how each one of them helps to shape their husband to who he is. I thought about several very close and amazing friends I have in the ministry, about all their late nights and tough decisions and hard times and how they have worked side by side to seek God's will for their families...

If you are reading this as one of the wives of ministry, this one goes out to you. Thank you for who you are and everything you do. Our lives would not be as enriched without you and your quiet beauty, your servant's hearts and your love.

If you are a person whose life has been made better through knowing one of these people, encourage them this week. Send them a refreshing reminder of how much they matter!

Mountains, Guitars, Margaritas, and Home

Unforgettable.

But I'll get back to that...

For anyone who has grown up in the church and discovered their own adult faith, knows how difficult it is to find a home church. You don't want to deny where you came from, but at the same time, you can see now as an adult, things that just didn't work. My husband and I took this quest seriously and took our time, but we may have finally come home. Ok, remove the may have...we are home.

We arent your typical Christians. We strive to search for relevancy instead of traditionalism. For doing life, instead of legalism. For a reason to do things, instead of "We always have". We daily admit our inperfections and use them to speak to others about Christ and how being broken vessels make us just right for His use, instead of covering them with a churchy smile.

We stumbled across 4Corners Community Church ( http://4cornerschurch.com) by *divine* mistake... In fact, the first time, we got lost getting there. Something about it though, just made us want to find it. From the moment we walked inside, it was like a chord was struck. From the greetings and smiles, to the music and message, for once it felt...real. We continued to go, and before we knew it, had fully drown ourselves in this ocean of community. This was the kind of place we belonged. The place where the hugs had meaning, where you were asked "How are you?" and they actually stuck around for the answer. This was the place where "I'll be praying for you" meant something and wasn't a passing phrase; where our son was embraced and loved and could learn about Jesus in an enviroment we knew we could trust to be on the same page with what we taught at home. This place was the place you could pour out your soul to someone and instead of judgement and criticism you found love, forgiveness and acceptance. This is the place where you can ask the tough questions about God and why bad things happen to good people and while they don't pretend to know all the answers, they will dig side by side with you to find it. 4Corners was never afraid to address the real issues and challenge you week after week to have bold Christianity, instead of sit in your seat niceties.

Getting back to unforgettable... I think the moment when we truly knew we were home was this weekend at the Leaders Retreat. A group of us went to Gatlinburg to get away for a few days. We knew everyone there fairly well, but for both my husband and I, we love going deeper with our friendships and really getting to know people. From the moment we arrived, we knew this was going to be a special weekend. On the first evening, we were watching the kids playing on the mountainside and I stood with Jill, our pastors wife. She made a comment, so simple, but so profound to me. As we watched the kids play, she mentioned to me "Just wait, in a few years, that will be Gavin running around up there with them!" I know it probably was a passing moment to her, but to me, it meant that these people had accepted us into their family and were ready to love and grow with us for a long time! We took a hike the next day with a few people and had some great memories of enjoying all the beauty around us. That night, as we relaxed under the stars, sipping some margaritas, a guitar came out and worship began. (Worship and Margaritas? I could get used to this...)

It struck me as we were all singing that this was the beginning of something deeper... These individuals, every one of them, were brought into my life for a purpose. This night was the beginning of some great and perhaps lifelong friendships, intricately interwoven through the love of Christ. These are people I knew I could go to with anything that comes my way and they will build us up and love us through it. As I looked around that night under a starry mountain sky, singing in harmony with everyone, I thought to myself, I am home. This is more than church...this is my family. I can't wait to see what God has in store for all of us and for 4Corners next. Im honored to be along for the ride.

The Healing Powers of Music...

Life is hard.

A simplistic statement of 3 words that for so many is filled with so much meaning. We all look back at our lives 3, maybe 5 years ago and wonder, is this what I imagined for myself? Is this what all those daydreams were about? And when it’s different from that original image, how do we deal with it?

Throughout life, we hit numerous ups and downs. Life speeds by like a race track, soars like an eagle, plummets like a rock and very rarely ever is a steady constant. I can remember discussions with my dad about my Utopia. How I saw life to be, what I thought it was going to be, before I had taken on the pressures of daily living; before the mortgage bill came in, when resources were expendable and responsibilities were few. There are strong currents of my Utopia in the life I have chosen, but there are also times where Utopia fails and is rocked by a change.

I am the type who chooses not to discuss when I feel badly about something. Consider me a bottle, a sealed vault. I would prefer to mentally pour over an issue rather than expose my soft side to anyone in the outside world. Any close friend could tell you on a day I am silent, is usually a day something is not right in my universe… As I engage with my mind in our own diatribe, music is usually all around.

I happened to stumble upon a really decent find in a bookstore a few months back. A band I knew in college and still love today, Ellery (http://www.ellerymusic.com/) was on sale. It was one CD I hadn’t yet seen of theirs and nabbed it up. It was right before I found out some very distressing personal news ( which I’m of course not going to share on here…bottles like me can’t do that, but suffice it to say, it was pretty awful) and it kind of tore me up. While entranced on a drive to work, lost deep in this band’s music, this lyric kept popping out at me

“The truth is there’ll be harder times…it’s ok to say you’re fine…”

It made me stop and think about the issues I had been facing personally. When we experience hurdles in our worlds, cracks in our Utopias, we think that’s it. It can’t possibly get any worse than this. I can’t believe THIS happened to me. But it also forces me to look back to other times, when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, and I overcame. The truth is, while this situation appears bleak, this isn’t the worst it’s ever going to get in my life. I will overcome, I will heal, and I will be stronger for it. The truth is, I can’t let myself dwell on it, because I need to be stronger for what is to come down the road, whatever hurdle that may be.

In that same bookstore visit, I picked up an older CD of Coldplay’s work, (who I also hold near and dear to my heart….my son was actually born to Viva La Vida in the hospital, if that’s any indication…) and came across the song “Fix You” on their XY album.

“When you try your best but you don’t succeed…when you get what you want, but not what you need…when you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep, stuck in reverse….

Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones and I will try to fix you…”

Again, I found myself captivated by lyrics. Growing up, no matter what blows the outside world had dealt me, home was the place of healing. Home was the place of comfort foods, warm blankets, good coffee, healing conversation, and much, much love. Now that I build my own home with my husband and son, it amazes me how this transfers directly into my life. After a long and exhausting day, I love to hear my son call me mama and holding his warm little loveable self is a cleansing agent to my soul. The best time of my day is usually around 9:17 pm. That’s when my husband walks through the door after work and I get to throw my arms around him and melt all my stresses into his embrace. My bones have been ignited again and I can begin a new day tomorrow…

Sometimes when you lose yourself in a song, you actually find yourself again.