Pace Setter

I love going to the gym for so many reasons. It's good for me - body, soul and spirit. Worship music pumping through me while I exhaust my every frustration, anger, disappointment and worry. I am anonymous. Not noteworthy in any way. Middle of the pack. And happy to be.

Tonight as I breezed into the ladies gym (easiest to ensure anonymity and invisibility), I hopped on the treadmill, set my pace, and starting zoning out. I was walking kind of furiously, my mind racing, and I began to get irritated with my "neighbor". She kept glancing over at me. "What, lady?" I thought, "Geez, eyes forward. I'm not here as far as you're concerned." And then, I noticed. She'd glance over at me and hit a button on her treadmill. And repeat. She was aiming to match my pace. I'd turn it up and run a second; she'd turn hers up and walk more briskly. I'd back down, she'd back down. I couldn't help but smile. We women...we're not to be outdone!

But then a stark reality hit me. I'm a pace setter. If you're a leader, that's what you do. Your pace is an example to those around you. They'll modulate their stride in proportion to yours. You've seen it, I'm sure. Sometimes we're the pace setter in an environment and have no idea. Of all the people in this gym, why in the world would this chick want to match my pace!? But yet, she did. If I quit, she'd give herself room to slow down. If I ran, she pushed herself.

Go too fast, our fellow journeyers become discouraged, thinking they can't keep up. They may sit it out.

Go too slow, they'll find the pace monotonous and unambitious, "we'll never get anywhere at this rate". They may look around for someone else's pace to match.

Steady and strong. Regardless of circumstance or opposition. That should be my pace as a leader. Gently turning things up a notch, encouraging those around me toward their personal best. Slowing it down a bit when I see they're trying to catch their breath.

You're a pace setter in your home. When we run rampant and strive, it's evident how those around us will feel: burdened, stressed and inadequate (just like we probably feel). But take it at a manageable, sustainable, faithful pace, carrying peace and composure, and watch your fellow travelers. They seem lighter and more confident. They feel safe with you. They stay by your side longer. They grow.

And eventually, they supersede your pace, toss you a grateful wave and move forward. While your feet keep plodding pavement. Steadily, faithfully.

Every year is another notch. Sometimes it seems no faster - just more of an incline. You're being stretched in ways no one can perceive. But you are being strengthened. And when someone matches, really matches, that pace...then the strength you're gaining becomes theirs as well.

Press on. Pray for a second wind. Get refreshed and get back on pace. I've got to do whatever it takes. There are still people waiting to hear the Good News.

"But none of these things move me; neither do I esteem my life dear to myself, if only I may finish my course with joy and the ministry which I have obtained from [which was entrusted to me by] the Lord Jesus, faithfully to attest to the good news (Gospel) of God's grace (His unmerited favor, spiritual blessing, and mercy)."

-Paul

(if you love this print as much as I do...click here)

"I Have Decided"

Here's a disclaimer: I'm writing this at 2 am (never advisable) because I've been sick and started a new medicine that keeps me up. all. night. But, I figure why not make use of this midnight oil and do something I haven't had the free-thinking time to do in a while: spend time with you.

For some reason, this memory keeps coming back to me these past few weeks...

On Mother's Day of 2009 I was in Arizona, spending the first Mother's Day in forever with my Mom and my Gramma. I lucked out, because that just happened to also be the weekend my dear cousin, Sherri, was having her precious daughter dedicated to Jesus, so we all got to share in the service together.

Of course, Gramma was overjoyed that yet another grand/great-grandbaby was being dedicated to the Lord, so the time together was emotional in general. But at the conclusion of the service, as we sang the hymn "I Have Decided", emotion took a backseat to a divine encounter.

We had already been through so much of this cancer battle. Ups, downs, heartbreaks, exhilarating victories. But we had no idea what the future might hold. Years before the battle had begun, Gramma went through a pretty sad time while her hearing deteriorated. She had loved to sing and hearing loss swept that away (in a public sense anyway).

But not for this moment...

As the worship team led us in song, she began humming beside me. Then, singing softly. And then, I could sense the Holy Spirit all around as her voice grew louder: "I have decided to follow Jesus...no turning back, no turning back," and "though none go with me, still I will follow". Through each verse, her voice grew more sincere, full of emotion, commitment and history. And I was so aware I was merely eavesdropping on a conversation that had nothing to do with me. Or anyone else, really. The declaration had been in her spirit since the grim diagnosis.

But I felt so honored to be a bystander and hear the exchange between them; this woman so full of trust and a Savior who held all of her life in the palm of His hand. She sang words that only someone who really knew this Jesus could sing. Words with one theme, "If it's only me and You. If only we can walk this journey. I will follow. Just to be with You. You and Me."

I quietly let the moment wash over me. It was so reassuring. So feeble in trusting Jesus sometimes, I stood beside this General who, in one brief exchange, put every worry or doubt to rest. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to lose the moment.

"Jesus, I want to know all she knows about You. I want to be decided that way. Give me what she's got." I still seek for all she had, and more. I can only imagine what she's got now. What a reward.

What a Savior; what a Friend. Who else could beckon such deep love and trust in the midst of all that may (or may not) happen on our confounding journeys? No one else would be worthy of such devotion. Such love. Only the One who gave all just to have us close to Him.

Truly, He is so close to the broken-hearted.

Tomorrow, I'm spending some time fasting and praying for Kate McRae and her family (click the link to read her story). Kate's (7) diagnosis is also grim. But through the McRae family, I hear the same declaration echoed in brokenness and reverence: "I have decided". There are links on Kate's site to her parents' blogs. Join in praying for Kate's total and complete healing if you're willing/able.

My Digital Toolbox

Alright. I saw a post from Carlos Whittaker a few weeks ago that inspired me to pass on a few things to you all. He listed the digital/technological tools which were coming in handy most for him currently. And on his list were several things I was using, but also several things I needed (and consequently, am now using). So, I'm going to list a few "must-have" items in my digital (administrative and design) toolbox. They're great (mostly free) tools for organizing or "pretty-fying" your life.

First let me say this: I am, seriously, in no way, shape or form, a technological whizkid. I am merely trying to keep up with my peers and, most the time, save face. These guys help me with that a LOT:

1. Bittbox.com free giveaways (lots of textures), great tips, tons of resources for us "self-taught" designers.

2. Evernote.com Network all your to-do lists. THIS IS A LIFESAVER! No more combining a list from your phone, on your laptop and jotted on the back of a receipt. As soon as you type your thought on Evernote on your phone, it's uploaded to your computer. Take pictures and save ideas you've seen. Etc.

3. Vimeo.com the easiest way on the planet to get your video to your website. (trust me, if I figured it out...it's the easiest!)

4. Dropbox.com annoyed with trying to maintain the same files on your laptop as desktop as phone as....? no more. Keep all your "across-the-board" files in your dropbox and they'll be available when and where you need them. No problem. Shred your jump drives. Blech.

5. Yousendit.com Sending huge files back and forth across the world? This has been a seamless and easy way for me. Send PSD's, large images, whatever. Inexpensive and fast.

6. Of course I wouldn't be able to live without my Macbook Pro. (I used to be a PC girl. It's true. And converting me was no easy task. But I've seen the light and I'm never turning back.)

7. RapidWeaver. A program my eight year old nephew could most likely build his own, personal website using. It's FABULOUSITY.

8. Motorola Droid. I know. I hear you iPhone snobs giggling. But it hasn't failed me yet! I actually quite love my phone and it has effectively made my office mobile.

9. Stacks, RapidWeaver plug-in. Another essential for easy website creation. Create your images and toss them in. D-o-n-e.

10. Twitter. Follow the right people and you won't get "left-behind". I follow designers, politicians, pastors, leaders, musicians and really smart friends. A tweet at just the right time, with just the right resource, has saved me hours. True story.

11. And....friends. I know that's not a "digital" tool, perse. But friends like Michelle Weger keep me moving in the right direction.

And, coming soon, a more "meaningful" post (though productivity has significance all its own).

What You Do in Practice...

I played softball when I was a kid. It was a huge part of my life in elementary and middle school. Trust me, I wasn’t an MVP, but I gave it my all! We lived about a mile and a half from the ballpark in our town and I used to ride my bike to practices or games. Sometimes I’d ride my bike to the field when I knew no one else would be there.

I’d sit quietly in the dugout and run through plays in my head. Go over my mistakes from the last game, my victories, what I could do better. What position I’d be shooting for next. I’d imagine what it would be like when I was at my best. It was like I had a relationship with the field nobody else had because of those moments spent there. Quiet, contemplative moments.

We had an incredible coach named JoDonna Birdoff. If you know anything about coaching, you know that your team will not produce something that you don’t have. They will, however, reproduce your character right before your very eyes. They will face adversity the way you do. Treat their competitors as you treat yours. Honor each other the way you honor them. And they will have your endurance and strength of will. If you choose to coach, you will reproduce who you are, not what you want.

JoDonna knew this well. She coached us girls to have character. Respect for people. Integrity – the same person on and off the field. And I can’t tell you how many times her voice echoed across the field, “What you do in practice you’ll do in the game! Remember that. WHAT YOU DO IN PRACTICE, YOU WILL DO IN THE GAME!”

There was no tolerance for sloppiness, distractions, comparing ourselves to one another, smack talk or laziness.

“Bock! What was that!? Pay attention! This isn’t just practice! What you do in practice, you’ll do in the game!”

That phrase ran me through college. It compelled me to behave as a working adult before I had the job I was shooting for. It drew my attention to silly habits I knew I couldn’t bring with me. It forced me to confront immature thought patterns. “Is this the kind of person I want to be in the game of life?”

I would hear it on Sunday mornings when I studied late the night before.“I don’t want to go to church early today.” “What you do in practice, you’ll do in the game.”

It would ring in my mind when I was tempted to slack on some commitment I’d made, “What you do in practice, you’ll do in the game.”

It hung over my head when I wanted to be just a little late for class, “What you do in practice…”.

There is something about athletics that forges character. There is no instant gratification. The principles of the game are irrevocable: you will not be great without sacrifice; victory will cost you something; be the one working when everyone else is asleep. Those are principles of greatness we all need for life.

My “education” on the field may have more to do with who I am than any classroom lesson. Because now, when our church is empty, people are with their families and no one is really thinking about church, I love to go sit in the sanctuary. Just like I sat at the field. I run things through in my mind – past moments, victories, defeats. I dream of what will be. I pace the floor with bare feet, knowing the carpet is probably just as familiar with me as I am with it.

I’m in the game now; practice has been over for quite some time.

I want my love for life to be contagious, like a good coach’s love for the game. I want to be that persevering, strength of will, forward-looking, never-letting-up person that compels people to be better than they think they can be. I want to be a person of longevity. Someone who understands that adversity isn’t always the enemy. Not backing down from challenge in any area of my life; making tenacity a hallmark of my character. All the while, hoping this will be reproduced in those closest to me, that they’ll reap the benefits of unseen time I’ve sown…

Fourteen years later, I’m still pretty thankful for what I reaped from JoDonna.

"Survival Year"

About 2010: I. Can't. Wait. For. 2011.

I absolutely love New Year's celebrations. I love everything about reflecting and thinking about the past year, thanking God for his faithfulness. I love planning and dreaming for the coming year, "what can it possibly hold!?". That being said, I am SO excited for this new year! Especially after 2010...

I sat with a friend the other night and she said, "You've had a pretty disheartening year, haven't you?" Yes. And Christmas seemed to follow suit in typical 2010 style...tough, but meaningful. We had just a few slight changes to flow with this year!:

• The synthetic tree (don't judge) which we've used since I can remember was replaced by a "real" tree.
• Our "real" tree was ornament-less because I flew in just two days before Christmas and Mom worked until the that exact moment.
• We're pretty famous for our massive Christmas Eve celebration - house overflowing with people, noise, craziness. This year, it was just me, Mom, Dad and my 84 year old Uncle.
• Most of all, we missed our Grandmother. And all of the flair and fabulousness she brought to Christmas. I wish I could post this picture of her: She's in her floor-length nightgown, circa 1980, standing in the middle of the living room with all the Christmas chaos. Wrapping paper is strewn everywhere and she is smiling broadly, stylishly holding her glasses in her thumb and forefinger, her other hand on her hip, laughing at all the kids going crazy over their gifts. Classic.

We dubbed this year "survival Christmas" and made fun of all our holiday shortcomings. Upon surveying the tree Christmas morning, Mom said, "Oh guys, the tree...smells so beautiful. This is the first time I've ever paid $36 for a 5 foot tall air freshener. I don't regret it."

We gave each other frivolous gifts and laughed at our overreactions. "Oh my! A new calendar! THANK YOU!" "No problem. I know you've been having trouble remembering your months." The best part of me giving Dad a calendar was that when my Brother and Sister-in-Law's box of goodness arrived (Monday), they had, in fact, gifted him with another calendar. (If he misses any appointments he's got no one to blame but himself.)

It was a very different Bock Christmas. But we did manage to hold to two traditions. Our enchilada dinner on Christmas Eve was fabulous and we did squeeze in a Christmas fire, something we were accustomed to doing surrounded by frost and snow, but sand didn't make it any less magical and soul-filling.

And all was well. We were reminded of what's really important. (Yes, Jesus. We were reminded of Jesus. Soapbox moment: we should probably be a little more concerned that we often forget Jesus every other day of the year because of our general, having nothing to do with Christmas, busyness and materialism. He's to be celebrated every day. Ok, done with soapbox.)

We were reminded of family...

We didn't realize how few Christmasses we'd have with Gramma, standing regally in the middle of the living room directing the festivities. So we celebrated each other, from West Virginia to Arizona to Hawaii. And the rest was comedic material...

Onto 2011! A brand new start. 365 new mercies. Who knows what the year holds! I started writing my goals down (and even some dreams) to post soon...

HAPPY NEW YEAR dear friends. So glad we get to walk it together (at least in some way)!

The Dreams of The Barren

“Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child;

burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor;

because more are the children of the desolate woman

than of her who has a husband.” - Isaiah

Women who wrestle with barrenness rarely, if every, discuss it. And certainly not publicly. It is far too painful. Far too present. And far too personal. I have no idea, and do not pretend to understand, the scope and magnitude of what barrenness of the womb is like.

At times, I worry I will. But I have to push away that fear as I'm sure many women, married and not, must. My heart wrenches for the women in my life who have walked through barrenness or loss in any form - it changes you forever.

A few years ago, I adopted a rule for myself: I will not share publicly that which still brings me pain. And that little rule has spared me additional pain. But, for this one area, I feel compelled to make an exception. Maybe because healing for my heart will be found in the speaking of it. Or maybe healing for yours. Maybe one of you has a word of encouragement that will be a salve to my soul. Or maybe simply the knowledge that none of us must walk alone needs to sink in a little more deeply...

I am experiencing barrenness...

Deep, disappointing, overwhelming barrenness that brings with it a nagging, relentless shame. And far too many questions to feebly attempt to answer: what have I done wrong? what is wrong with me? Am I less of a woman? Are my dreams really in God's plan? Will I ever be truly fulfilled in this area? Why do I walk this path while other women enjoy the fruitfulness that my entire being longs for? What can I do to fix it? Those questions loop in my mind all day. Every day. Whether conscious or subconscious.

You see, I have never been in a "relationship" - a romantic one. Never been taken on a date. Never been asked to a school dance. I think I may have had a boyfriend in high school? But the possibility was lost before it was defined. And, when I survey my surroundings, I see no "prospects" at the moment.

To some of my friends, this seems unthinkable, "You can't be serious...". To others, it's not such a big deal, "After all, you're only 26, Amanda.". And to be honest, it wasn't such a big deal to me. I've been busy! Getting degrees and gaining work experience, getting my house in order, my life solid with Jesus.

But something changed this year and, like the feeling of a limb awakening, life became extremely uncomfortable. And then, almost excruciating. Suddenly, I realized I was missing something. And then, that I'd always been missing it. And that I didn't know anyone else in a situation like mine. And that I saw no change forthcoming...

As I reviewed the "have not, do not and may not" situation unceasingly, the door of my dreams creaked ever nearer to a close...

It takes guts to face the stark reality of this part of my story. And strength of will not to dwell upon it. Because the other side of the coin is this: my deepest, most personal dreams hang the prospect of their fulfillment here. A marriage, where I can give a receive love. Children to wrap my arms around. Family. My family.

Dreams are dangerous. They are only for the brave, those willing to risk pain, the inexplicable kind that sweeps in and steals your breath. But it is only these risk-takers who really live. And for me, the pain of barrenness will persist, dreams or none. So, like a controlled fire that must warm me, but not overtake me, I must keep my dreams alive...in my heart, in my life, by my voice.

What a scary, terrifying thought. What a fool I am, dreaming of something I've never seen. Something that has never been real. Something that, for all I know, is impossible. (I think I just heard Jesus laugh to Himself as He works on my "impossible" situation, doing things I know not of right now...)

"Always be in a state of expectancy, and see that you

leave room for God to come in as He likes."

Oswald Chambers

Honesty.

Writers are such vital people in our lives and culture. They’re the people who put our souls in front of us, like a mirror, when we can’t describe what we’re made of. They're the people who put flesh and movement to haunting, indescribable parts of our journeys. Whether joy or despair, the best of writers are those whose words bring us empathy and comfort for things which, before, seemed unintelligible.

Sara Groves is one of those writers in my life. When I have felt vague oppression in my soul that had no frame. When I have wanted to say to someone what they really mean. When I needed to express joy, but my words couldn’t do it justice. I have always found expression in her music. (My Mother cautioned us as kids to not use the words “always” and “never”. “They’re rarely accurate,” she’d say. But this time, I mean it!)

That is why tonight was so special. For several years, I’ve mulled over lyrics or been comforted by the camaraderie I found in Sara Groves’ music. But I had never been to a concert! Until tonight. We sat only two rows back at this small venue, about eight feet from the songbird herself! And as she made her way to the keyboard, I was completely overwhelmed. Moved to tears. And she hadn’t sung a note! Honestly, I felt like a creepy fan, I'm not gonna lie. I started talking to myself, “Amanda, seriously. Calm. Down. You are out of control.” Until I realized, my response was actually very merited.

The truth is…Sara Groves has been "with" me in so many seasons of life. She has rejoiced with me over victories, interceded with me about broken relationships, helped me express frustration, fear and turmoil, walked with me through grief, held my hand through scary transitions, and helped me tell Jesus how truly I love Him. She has been a great friend and mentor. And here I sat…just feet away. The moment was so…personal.

It was as if I could see all the seasons of my life passing on a screen, the same voice lullabying me through them. Each song carrying another memory with it. Every melody bringing back stories of God’s faithfulness, healing and love. Songs of praise and dedication. Words that helped me mourn and rejoice in the same breath.

I couldn’t help it; I afforded myself the luxury of letting a few tears escape.

And I made a new commitment to myself.

What has made Sara Groves’ music so powerful to me all this time is her honesty. Her willingness to say the things others won’t. She has spoken vulnerable words which brought reassurance to my spirit, “You are not alone.” She has mentored me in sincerity and authenticity because I want to do the same. I want to speak things that will bring liberty to people, freedom that allows them be who they are, where they are. I want to be one of those writers who makes someone’s corner of the world just a little less lonely…

So, I’ll be getting a little more “honest” around here, this little blog. And if it doesn’t resonate with you, at least you’ll know how to pray for me! But I’m fairly confident I’m not the only one walking this path, quiet as it may seem.

The first of these "honest" posts is already written, actually. I'm just gaining a little more chutzpah before debuting it!

Until then...