Being Brave Everyday

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There was a time in my life when I did things people considered really brave. Like moving to the other side of the world or jumping out of a plane or going on vacation to a foreign country by myself. Then I got married, got a normal job, and starting having kids. I didn’t feel like anything I was doing was very brave. Life felt routine and boring. And I just wanted to sit around and watch Netflix all day because I had lost my way in the midst of the ordinary.

Maybe you find yourself in the same situation. Maybe you wake up everyday and look around at the normal, mundane tasks you have to accomplish and wonder or dream about the day you can do something brave again. But here is what I am realizing more and more each day. Being brave doesn’t always look like big, grand gestures such as moving across the globe. Oftentimes being brave can look like inviting your neighbors over for dinner, or teaching your children to be kind to the kids at school, or asking a friend for help when you are struggling. Being brave can look like being nice to the lady at the grocery store or helping the mom struggling with two tiny kids (that’s always me).

We are living in a day where being brave can simply mean going against the status quo. Where it can mean coffee with a friend instead of scrolling Instagram for hours on end. It means calling out the brave in our communities and among our friends. It means celebrating the everyday, normal, brave things we do. Whether those things are potty training or taking new jobs or having dinner with your neighbors or being kind to the server who appears to have had a bad day.

So rather than binge watch another episode of your latest Netflix show or spend another hour scrolling through social media, let’s all work on being brave today. Let’s call it out when we see it, celebrate it, and refuse to allow brave to be only something other people do. It’s not about moving across the world, it’s about taking the first step. Who knows, maybe that first step will lead you across the world, but maybe it will just lead you across the street.

 

 

Photo by Christian Stahl on Unsplash

Reckless Love

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Luke 15 may be one of my favorite chapters in all of the Bible. The chapter opens with a whole bunch of sinners hanging around Jesus to hear His words. This scene causes the Pharisees (read religious people) to grumble under their breath about how Jesus hangs out with the “rough crowd.” They think it’s an absolute abomination Jesus is hanging out with them.

Jesus, catching the vibe they were giving off, launches into a series of stories, the first of which references a shepherd. A shepherd who loses one of his sheep and leaves the 99 to go find the lost sheep. When he finds the lost sheep, he throws a huge party in celebration.

Honestly, I have read this story a hundred times and all of a sudden this past week the weight of it hit me. Jesus is a Savior who leaves the 99 to go desperately searching for the one. For the one who got lost, who got stuck, who wandered away, or who was taken away. For whatever reason the one went missing, Jesus goes looking.  He spent his life on earth seeking out the lost, the broken, the downtrodden. And he was often called reckless and a drunkard and a sinner. The religious of His day assumed Jesus had no clue the ramifications of His actions and could not understand why this teacher of the law spent so much time with “those people.”

It can be so easy to look around and see “those people.” We can point them out of the crowd and label them hopeless or wayward or worthless. And yet, we are “those people.” We are all in desperate need of Jesus to come and find us. This week as I mediated on those words of Jesus, I felt it even more. The reality of them puts me in the place of sheep who wandered away. And Jesus was willing to do whatever it look to bring me home.

Jesus’ love is reckless in His search for the lost. There is no one He won’t seek out and He starts with us. When we sit in the weight of that reality, it changes how we view the world. See, I am in desperate need of Jesus and His love. When I feel as though I am too lost or too broken or too screwed up to make anything out of the mess of my life, He comes in and seeks me out. He shows up and throws a celebration.  This is the good news. When we are at our worst, He is at His best. He leaves the rest to find the one. And no one is ever too lost for His reckless pursuit.  Let’s remember as we celebrate a Risen Savior this weekend the impact of a Savior who loves and pursues the lost.  The reckless love of Jesus truly changes everything.

 

 

Photo by Hugues de BUYER-MIMEURE on Unsplash

Here’s to 5 More Years

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A few weeks ago, my husband and I were driving when I mentioned I want to draft up a 5 year plan for our family. I am very Type A and I like to have things mapped out. Plus we had been looking at making some big changes and I just wanted to talk about what we wanted for our future. My husband laughed and mentioned how crazy the last four years had been-how could we plan 5 years down the road?!?

I didn’t immediately want to give up the idea, but it did get me thinking about the last four years of our married life. Which is the entire total of our married life. Four years ago we were drinking green beer and toasting to life together. In those moments, I am not sure either of us had any idea what the next four years would hold.

1 nonprofit started.

2 babies.

2 houses.

2 new cars.

2 trips to California.

5 job changes.

In the midst of it all, there have been times of absolute bliss and times where I think we both considered strangling the other person. We have laughed, cried, yelled, and danced. We have walked through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows together. There have been good days and bad days and days I don’t ever want to end and days I don’t ever want to repeat.

And while there was a loose plan four years ago, it was nothing even close to reality so my dear husband was probably right in remarking trying to map out a five year plan would be near impossible.

But since I am not ready to totally give up, I think this is a five year plan we can both get behind.

5 more years of love, laughter, and making memories. 5 years of singing “Old MacDonald” 100x only to sing it once more. 5 years of house projects in which we often disagree and mostly hate the process, but totally end up with outcomes we love. 5 years of changes we face together as a family, as best friends, as two imperfect people who love and respect each other. 5 more years of growing closer to each other, to God, and to our community. 5 more years of saying yes to people, adventures, and experiences.

The reality is I have no idea what the next 5 years will bring and I have no doubt it will be different than anything we can imagine today. When you marry someone who has a habit of saying “yes” to God as we both do, life is always an adventure.  What I am confident of as we celebrate four years of being married is life so far has brought us closer to each other, to God, and to our community and given us so much joy, hope, and love. The last four years have been a whirlwind of change and growth and I am so ready to see what the next four, five, and forever years bring us.

I love you babe!

 

Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash

He Shall Be Your Peace

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10 days past my due date, I sat in a local coffee shop working on my Advent study. I had given up on work because I had just about given up on being pregnant. Plus I was pretty sure if I heard “your still here?!” one more time, I might punch someone. The central verse of the day came from Micah 5:5 which begins “And He shall be your peace.”  For some reason, the verse stood out to me. I had been praying over a word for 2018 and in that moment, I felt like I had found my word.

Little did I know just a few hours from then, I would need to cling to those words stronger than I ever had before. Giving up on work proved to be a good idea because later that day, my water broke and a VERY short time later, our second son was born. My labor and delivery was quick and exhausting. As soon as he was born, a team of nurses and doctors crowded around him. I kept asking is he ok? why isn’t he crying? can I see him? I was in sheer panic. The fear I felt in those few minutes is still palpable. They whisked him away to the NICU and I was left exhausted, alone, and with very few answers to the myriad of questions in my mind. I hadn’t gotten to see him or hold him or hear him. The baby I had carried for 9 long months (plus an extra 10 days) was in a moment no longer in my care.

Several hours later, circa 2am, a doctor came in with a long list of possible scary conditions our sweet baby boy might have and all I wanted to do was see him. My mama instincts wanted to punch this doctor and I am fairly certain if it were not for my husband, I very well may have. When I finally did get to see my precious baby, he was connected to all sorts of tubes and machines. I couldn’t hold him, I couldn’t feed him, I felt utterly helpless. And then I remembered those words- “He shall be your peace.” I grabbed those words and clung onto them. They were my lifeline. As I prayed and cried and prayed some more, I knew my peace had to come from Jesus. It wouldn’t come from the doctors or the nurses or my own abilities to protect him.

We were sent home eight days later with a precious baby boy who for the time being has zero complications. No one can predict what may happen in the future, but each time fear and worry starts to creep in, I return to the word I felt called to for this year-Peace.

In the midst of the unknown-peace.

In the middle of changes-peace.

In the face of adversity-peace.

 When I sit and rock my sweet baby boy, I often think back to those few moments when I was overcome by fear and exhaustion, so scared something was terribly wrong. I would love to say in those moments I felt an overwhelming peace, but I am learning peace is something you often have to ask for rather than simply expecting it to show up.  When we finally had a minute alone after all the doctors and nurses left that night, we sat and prayed for our precious baby and peace came rushing over me. While those 8 days were some of the hardest in my life, they were full of peace and community and love and prayer. They were a defining chapter in our marriage and our lives. And they continue to serve as a reminder of how much we need peace far above our understanding in our lives.

The Last 24 Hours

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If you want to emulate Christ, you must know Christ. And so often, I think the American church has got it all wrong. I don’t think it is fair or right to point fingers and there are many Christians and churches who are doing it right. Ultimately, I think each of us must evaluate our own lives in light of the life of Christ. Are we seeking to live like He did? As I have blogged about quite a bit recently, the idea of hospitality and serving others seems to continue to be a theme God is pressing into my soul. I think it is because for so many years I have been so busy with so much, I have forgotten we are to be busy with a who, not a what. We are to be seeking Christ, not seeking tasks, projects, notches on a resume, or shiny awards.

The other day, one sentence in the book I was reading stopped me in my tracks. The author was talking about the last hours of Christ’s life and how He spent those last precious hours. He had the unique advantage of knowing He was going to die. We do not know when death will come. A study of the last hours of Christ’s life reveal what was important to Him and this is what caused me to stop. To evaluate. To think. To consider my own life in light of His.

The night before Christ was crucified, He broke bread with his closest friends. He didn’t travel to an exotic locale, He didn’t check one more thing off His bucket list, He didn’t make some grand spectacle out of his last hours. He simply shared a meal around the table with those He loved.  What a beautiful picture and humbling reminder this was for me. In light of the fact I have no clue how long my time on earth will be, how am I living out this principle? Am I spending my precious time with people? Am I inviting in those I love to eat around the table? Am I taking time for small moments? For ordinary events that I may never be able to write on a resume or put on an award application?

People were most important to Jesus. He spent time with them, He cared for their souls, and during His last moments before a brutal death, He fed them a meal, washed their feet, and comforted their souls.  This is the life we are called to friends. This is the good work.

But why oh why is it so hard? I will be the first to admit my schedule gets out of control. I have a toddler at home and a husband who works a lot so a clean house happens for about .5 hours a week. Some nights our “dinner” consists of sandwiches, leftovers, or eggs and toast because this momma is exhausted.  But in studying Jesus’ last hours, I realized I so often miss the point.  He didn’t expect perfection out of people. He met them in their brokenness, in their hurt, in their moments of need and shame and despair. He didn’t come to them in a spiffy business suit looking like he stepped off the cover of a magazine. He came to them with open arms and invited them in. He invited them to a messy life, to a hard life, to a life of sacrifice, and joy, and hope, and peace.  And with His last moments, He spent time around the table eating, drinking, and serving.

This is the good work we are called to do in this broken world. It is not to have perfect houses or perfect kids or perfect resumes. It is to spend our time sharing our brokenness with those around us. It is to open our messy homes and say come on over. It is to nourish the body and soul with food and hope. It is to love. And I believe in doing this, we will see a world transformed once again by the message of hope and love Jesus brings to us all.

 

 

Photo by Chelsea Francis on Unsplash