my sister.

It was a great weekend. And tonight is a great night. Our schedules usually don't permit the fabulousness that's been the past few days, but we love it when they do. I used to think I was going to spend a lot of my life without a friend like this...but one day, an incredible thing happened.

When I was 11, I met this really snobby girl. I was friends with her sister, and I wasn't really sure I was going to like her. She came from the "cooler/upscale" school in "town" to our little, backwoods elementary school. And, I can't say we hit it off...

But then, in almost an instant, we became the best of friends. Life changed forever. I have a fabulous big brother, the best anyone could ask for. But, surrounded by boys all of my life, I really wished I had a sister. I had no idea Jesus would give us such a gift. He's really good at what He does.

And, without her, this season of life would be so different. And much harder. Friday night, we decorated my Christmas tree. And, with the final ornament in place, we shut the lights off to fully see the tree in its glory. You could hear quiet tears as I whispered, "She would be really proud of this tree...", both of us misty-eyed. It's true - sorrow divided.

And man do we laugh. About anything. And everything. Laughter is the token trait of quality life, to me anyway. And my sister makes it easy...

When I am down and need to cry till morning,

I know just where I am going.

When I'm in need of sweet commiseration

To speak out loud...

Raise a glass to friendship

And to knowing you don't have to go alone.

We'll raise out hearts to share each other's burdens

On this road.

Every burden I have carried,

Every joy--it's understood.

Life with you is half as hard,

And twice as good.

With my good news you're dancing on the table:

Baby's born, to celebration.

The joy of life, oh what a sweet communion,

Shared with you.

Every burden I have carried,

Every joy--it's understood.

Life with you is half as hard,

And twice as good.

I know we're growing older,

Can you imagine what that will bring?

It's all a mystery to me now,

Except this one thing:

It'll be half as hard, and twice as good

Christmas and Feng-Shui

I've been in my fabulous little apartment for almost two years now. And, last Christmas, I opted out of buying a Christmas tree because I thought it might be a little sad. You know, a generic tree, decorated with store-bought ornaments, present-less...I just couldn't do it. But I was wrong. It's actually far more sad to have no tree at all!

So this year, I got super excited to get one and yesterday, when I heard Lowe's had some on sale, I got online to check out the deals. I spotted the perfect one - pre-lit, 6 1/2 feet. The best part? $38.00! I rushed in to Lowe's only to find out, no tree. They were sold out.

BUT! Not to worry, my fabulous Pastorette had accompanied me. She's far too classy to haggle. But she has her ways. (And I'm sure my pathetic, "I'll love you for the rest of my life, sir" face helped just a little.)

I walked out of Lowe's with a non-sale tree that was suddenly on sale for just the right price! (I'm not going to lie...I smiled like a dork all the way to my car. And possibly all the way back to work.)

With the excitement of my new tree, I just had to make space in my apartment for this 6 foot addition! I looked around at my bulky furniture, including a rather large armoire. "Well, I think I can handle it..." I shifted the couch/loveseat/oversized armchair half a dozen times, standing back after each move and putting my hands on my hips. "Nope."

And finally, "I have to move the armoire. I'm not taking everything out of it. Too much work." So I try pushing...arms extending. Pulling, leaning back as far as possible. Putting my shoulder into it. Leaning my back against it. Not even an inch. After my final effort, I slide onto the floor with a deep sigh. "Ok, one more try."

But this time, I use my most abundant resource ;) That's right, I single-buttedly moved my armoire five feet from one wall to the other! Then, I stood back and said..."Nope." Sighed heavily, and repeated the process back to the other wall. Finally finding the perfect feng-shui for my space. Oh the single life...

I came to work today only for the guys to tell me I can buy casters to place under my furniture that will let me slide it anywhere...

Wow.

broken-hearted hallelujahs

I'll never forget a sermon on communion that I heard while in school at Southeastern University. Pastor Sam Hemby taught on "What Jesus Always does with Bread" and it changed me. My way of thinking. Without fail, when Jesus took up bread, he "took it. blessed it. broke it. and gave it.". And Pastor Sam told us to be looking for this pattern in our lives. We, too, are taken, blessed, broken...and given.

I'm thankful that brokenness always has a purpose.

If not, this season would be so discouraging. But the seed of brokenness gives way to a harvest of giving. Any time we seem to be shattered, God is simply creating space to give of Himself through us. And I'm finding that my greatest offering to Him is my broken-hearted hallelujah. The song I sing to Him, blessing Him, just for loving me. That if my situation never changes. If my hopes never become reality. If what I used to see when I scanned the horizon doesn't reappear. He is my more-than-enough God. And what a gift it is to be taken, blessed...Broken...and given. What a privilege to have anything worth giving.

This morning as I listened to our missionary guest, my heart was stirring within me. I was so glad! Though missions giving is part of my life already, I've been really anticipating what project would catch my breath and compel me. I didn't expect this one. And I didn't expect it to be so personal...

Our guest was describing Mission of Mercy and the children (40,600 of them) that they care for. Their desperate situations - poverty, sickness, loneliness. Things that always cause us to wince and survey our lives with new grateful eyes. And I felt prompted, "I would love to sponsor one of these precious kids..."

Then, the speaker gave the typical, "for just 34$ a month...". And my heart sank. "Jesus, I don't have the money. I mean, I'm only meeting my current commitments by your supernatural provision."

"That's right," I felt His gentle response, "so what does another 34$ matter?" A grin spread across my face and I held in a hearty laugh. "You're right. Absolutely right, Lord."

And then - it got more personal.

See, hope is a tricky thing. And dreams, well, they're even more evasive. On the horizon of my life I used to look out and see family, my "one day" family. A relentlessly hilarious, and desperately aggravating, husband. Children who take my breath away daily. Us doing life. Together. But now, when I scan the horizon, I'm not so sure. Now, I see shadows which seem vague and undefined.

And, I evaluate the dream, "Jesus, is this really in your plan for my life? Or...my plan for my life?..."

I release the dream and fully embrace His plan for my "now". Knowing that, if this hope is part of His plan for me, it will be returned to me in perfect timing. I ponder...Maybe the times are too urgent. Maybe there is too much to be done for Him. Maybe the situation in our world is too desperate for my focus to be divided. Maybe time cannot afford for me to live out that part of life. Maybe, I will not be married. Maybe...I will not have children. I soak in His peace - what He has shall be.

And this morning, the Lord whispered to my heart, as compassionately as always, "You no longer need to wait. You are already a spiritual mother. Give care to those I have placed near you. I've given you the opportunity to mother some you may never even meet."

I am broken.

So I give. I worship. I serve. I sing broken-hearted hallelujahs that seem to please His ear even more than songs of triumphant praise. I whisper, "I love you" out of desperate moments of heartache. And smile widely because I feel His pleasure in my offerings. His great and overwhelming pleasure with my simple giving of just me.

Shailesh is my new kid. He's 10 years old and lives in India. (I was hoping he'd be from India - I secretly want to go there someday.) He and I, we both count on Jesus for daily bread. And I'm so grateful to be part of providing his.

He's the newest part of this hallelujah chorus God is writing in my life...

grace that guides us

So I'm sitting here at Sky Harbor airport in Phoenix. A little grumpy because it's 1:30 in the afternoon and I never went to sleep last night. It was my first, and possibly last, Black Friday experience (though we found some INCREDIBLE deals). I'm here two hours prior to my flight; we're a perpetually punctual family. And I've got plenty of time to collect my thoughts, do some people watching and catch up on some reading.

On the flip-side of this leisurely airport sitting session is a slight aggravation: I'm so ready for my bed. Just bump my flight up an hour and a half and get me home! It's a four and a half hour flight, the sooner it begins, the sooner the conclusion of awkward physical contact with strangers can end. Ew...

But, back to the point...I got a call from my mom just a few minutes ago. She said, "Good thing we came when we did. We just got back on I-10 and watched a major collision westbound. We'd have never gotten through that mess. We would have been in traffic for quite a while...or worse, part of the crash."

A reminder in my heart that God's timing is perfect. Even when I feel something is rushed upon me prematurely. Or when I'm waiting indefinitely for hopes, dreams or provisions to become reality. God's grace is always guiding. If I just take time to hear Him, His gentle leading, He will make my paths straight.

I'm especially thankful for that grace this Thanksgiving. This was my first visit home since Gramma went to be with Jesus. It was surreal. We enjoyed our time together. Mom and I cooking up the turkey-day feast and Dad bringing the day to completion with a nice fire outside. But there was a gaping hole. One of which none of us spoke really. But in brief silences, the howl of the wind made the vacancy known.

Our family is very different now, though we're working together to grow accustomed to our new "state". We just miss her. I sat in her room, in the chair that I sat beside her for what felt like an eternity. The same vantage point I had when she was in the bed beside me. But it didn't matter how long I sat there...the bed was empty. She has been lifted. Hallelujah...

Even in this, great comfort is found in my heart when I consider that God's perfect timing, and His ever-present grace, is guiding all of our lives.

Sorry for the unannounced hiatus - totally not intentional. This is the part where I should probably make some sort of commitment about how I'm going to write more. But, alas, I will forego said obligatory phraseology. I want to write more. I hope to write more. But there are some deeper, more personal hopes which must be attended too, as well.

Thanks for journeying with me...

today in a picture

Posting here has been an awkward venture for me in these past few weeks. I so deeply enjoy encouraging others; it really is a most cherished part of my life to give energy and love to the people around me! Sometimes, it even discourages me when I feel I can't encourage others (now if that isn't inner conflict tell me what is). And lately (like most things) this isn't coming easily. And I feel guilty (or, let's be honest, embarrassed) just saying how I really feel or what's really going on.

I dub today "Honest Thursday" for no other reason than it allows me to speak freely. I randomly ran across this picture on Twitter and sighed deeply because it seemed to represent so much of what I've been feeling lately...

I know. Very, very random. Very. But it said this to me:

Decisions are hard.

Sometimes what you "need" isn't available at the present time.

Options are too numerous and you wish Someone would just make the right choice for you.

You can hardly even tell what's there.

...and any other interpretation of this photo that may mean "overwhelmed".

Well, not too encouraging, huh? But candid, nonetheless.

Tomorrow is Friday. Which is my "Saturday". And I look forward to some time with Jesus that I've missed during the chaos of the week. And the encouragement that comes to my soul and then out of my soul from those times.

Confessions of a Brat

I've never been an optimist. Nope. Never. Silver lining has never been my style. My style's always varied between, "That's a huge cloud. That makes me sad. Can I go to bed now?" And, "That's a huge cloud. Let's put some structures in place to deal with the rain it will bring. I'm pretty sure a few good things could come out of the rain, too. Maybe. Possibly." (The latter seems to be my more frequent m.o.

I would like to submit that, along with the labels of "optimist," "pessimist," and "realist," we begin using the term, "pragmatist." - a practical person interested in the outcome of situations. Just for me of course. "That's egocentric," you might say? Yes. It is. But the world would be a better place if everyone just understood me a little more. Eh? Jusssst kidding.

In saying this, however, those of us with a bit more melancholy personalities have to take much initiative to find the "good" in our lives. Being thankful. Celebrating life. Finding things that make us smile. I'm not going to lie: that's been hard work for me lately. And in the past couple of weeks (no excuses), I wanted to quit searching for good things. I've even gotten a bit sarcastic with God. "Yes, let me find my miner's cap and start my search for something good in the middle of my life." (I'm working well with my new baldness after being struck by lightening.)

I can't allow myself the luxury of bratty ingratitude. It just doesn't work out for anyone, no matter the season of life or the difficulty at hand. "Let the peace of Christ rule in your heart and be thankful," Paul says. And I'm working diligently on this. Again.

So! Today I bring you another "happy list". I love lists in general - but especially when they're full of wonderful things about of life! Here you have it:

1. Humor. I've always felt that if I can laugh I can make it through anything.

2. Leigh Jarvis. The people who've been with you the longest and know you the best and yet, somehow, still have good thoughts about you.

3. Writing. I always know that, no matter what happens, I can write about it. And that brings comfort.

4. My Mom. She makes our lives possible. True story.

5. My job. I have the privilege of working in an amazing place, with phenomenal people who want to do incredible things in our world.

6. Susan Isaacs. And other writers who capture life with words so very well. They make me feel much less alone.

7. My new calendar for 2010. Just love it. And can't wait to be using it more frequently.

8. Worship.

9. Good coffee. Mmm.

10. Our young adults at this church, Harbour. They keep me "real".

11. My incredible friends. Great listeners, encouragers, givers of hugs and people who propel me to my personal best.

12. Celebrating my fabulous friends' soon-coming baby boy. (And occasionally talking into her belly button so he knows me before he gets here!) Joy is a friend for life.

13. Singing. I'm not exceptionally good at it. But it's way fun in my car.

14. Heritage. My great-grandmother was saved at Azusa Street and could pray the house down.

15. Florida Winters. Reaping the benefits of summer and not having to uncover, de-ice and warm up my car before I go anywhere.

16. My new laptop. I'm a proud macbook owner. It makes me feel cooler than I am.

17. Cardigans.

18. Turquoise.

19. My grandmother's handed-down Bible and jewelry.

and 20. My little apartment.

(and there's so, so, sooo much more.)

Everyday Miracles.

Is that an oxymoron? I'm not so sure. These are the kind of miracles that are easy to overlook, but impossible to live without. And with life as it has been lately, they're the kind of miracles I've been desperately needing.

You know - you find a few dollars in your pocket totally unexpectedly, you run into an old friend you've been thinking about a lot, someone says a few words to you that you've been dying to hear. Those kind of miracles.

I have a ginormous picture frame on my wall and inscribed on it is a quote from Albert Einstein: "There are two ways of living. One, as if nothing is a miracle. And the other, as if everything is a miracle." The past few weeks have been so difficult. Without any explanation really; no major events of any sort. But just as if every day was harder than the one before. Like walking in waist-deep water. And by this week, I found myself saying, "Jesus, I just need something good. I can keep going. But I just need something good."

Friday didn't bring any of those "good" things to sight, really. It was my first genuine, for real, no doubt about it day off in quite some time. But it was also the three month mark of losing my grandmother. So, exhausted from the two weeks prior and my heart heavy with grief, I spent most of the day in my apartment, migrating between my room and my living room with tissue box in tow.

Saturday morning, I got up. Made myself get dressed for the day, though I was pretty sure it wouldn't hold anything fabulous. (Sidenote: when you ask Jesus for something good, keep your eyes open!) I knew my friends had other engagements and I was missing my family. I didn't have money to really go anywhere. So, I got up and got ready in faith: "I will find something good today."

As I finished my makeup, I got a text from a friend. "I have a buy-one-get-one coupon for smoothies! Wanna go!?" "Sure :) When?" "Now, lol" "Perfect! lol" And so I met her for our smoothie date which ended up being a double blessing - a smoothie and a counseling session. She gave me time to express the real things weighing on my heart without worry of what she would think or what time constraints we had or anything else. Everyday miracle.

Just as we finished our fabulous smoothies, other friends called, "Want to meet us for lunch?" I said, "sure," planning to go along but just get a soda or something (the two cans of tomato soup sitting in my cupboard were calling my name). When we got there, my friend informed me that she would be paying for my lunch. "And no ordering water, either." Everyday miracle.

I was overwhelmed. As we left lunch, the girls decided they wanted to do a little shopping. So I rode along. The afternoon went on and, when everyone got hungry again (apparently food is a big theme for us), ANOTHER friend decided to buy my dinner! At this point, I didn't know what to say. God had taken me from the pit and given me more than a dozen reasons to smile the next day.

Enter Sunday. I love my church. So getting to worship together with these great people makes for a wonderful day all in itself. As we got ready for service, my car sat in the front parking lot where it had been parked the day before. (Our staff always parks in the back.) "Hey can I use your car to go get some coffee and then I'll park it out back," a friend asked. " "Sure, yeah, thanks." She grabbed my keys and re-parked my car, for which I was very grateful.

After service, I left for lunch with yet another friend. I knew my gas tank was empty; I looked down to see if the light was on yet (I didn't want my friend to have to walk back from lunch with me!). I glanced down and my breath caught, "What? This thing was empty...what...!?" Then I remembered who had "re-parked" my car - with significantly more gas. Everyday miracle.

THEN! We pulled into the restaurant and parked and my lunch date notified me, "I'm paying for this. Don't argue." She took me to a fabulous lunch to celebrate Pastor Appreciation this month. And blessed me with a wonderful card that expressed her heart so very well. Everyday miracle.

A Sara Groves' song says,
"It's the everyday miracles that keep my hope alive. It's the way
You move in little things that helps me survive."

So, there may be some big-ticket items in life that overwhelm me from time to time. God's faithfulness in the day-to-day brings me hope and faith for the desperate things. This is why my favorite name for Him is "the God who sees me".

He sees you, too...Believe it...