Baby, It's Date Rape Inside

I love listening to Christmas music, with the exception of a handful of songs that irk me. "Baby It's Cold Outside" is a song I've always liked, musically. I love male/female duets, and I like the tune.

But I started thinking more about the lyrics lately and it's pretty much a terrible song about a guy who doesn't get that "no means no." 

I never really thought about it that way. I looked at it as, the girl is trying to do the right thing but what she really wants is to stay. Kind of an internal squabble with herself.

But then there's lyrics like this that blatantly disregard her response:

"I ought to say 'no, no, no sir.'" - her

"Mind if I move in closer?" - him

I mean all throughout the song he disregards her concerns by citing the weather as a reason to stay, but in this case he is specifically doing the opposite of what she is saying.

And then there's the guilt-tripping:

"At least I'm gonna say that I tried [to say no]" - her

"What's the sense in hurting my pride?" - him

"How can you do this thing to me?" - him

Because if you turn a guy down for sex, you'll hurt his feelings. So say yes, even if your gut tells you you need to get out of there. Um...no.

He also guilt trips her by saying, "Think of my life long sorrow...if you caught pneumonia and died..." - not really showing a concern for her own life but just that he'd suffer if she died.

But the line that really gets me is this one:

"Say, what's in this drink?" - her

"No cabs to be had out there..." - him

So he spiked her drink with, at the very least, more alcohol than she intended, and at the worst...well, some kind of drug? It's not clear since he completely ignores her question. Although her following line "I wish I knew how...to break the spell..." could be referring to hormones or the impact of alcohol/drugs.

So...maybe this song will become another one in my handful that I turn the radio off for.

Seeking my dog's siblings

I know this is a long shot, but I would love to arrange a play date for my dog Peanut with her biological siblings.

Peanut was born on 7/20/09 at Ruff Pine Kennel in Pine Bluffs, Wyoming. Her mom, Cassidy, was a yorkie and her dad, Danny, was a maltese/shih-tzu. I adopted her from Pet City pet store in Fort Collins, Colorado.

I know that Peanut had one sister and a few brothers from her litter. I would love to have her get back together with one of them, see if they remember each other and how their adult features compare.

I know the odds are that the right people will never see this. But if you happened to have the same wish as me and googled this, please comment below!

Joy of Worship

There was this girl at Elmbrook, about my age, who sometimes led worship when I was there. Her name was Bethany.

I loved when Bethany led worship because she always had a HUGE smile on her face. A lot of times when Christians sing worship songs we look like we're constipated. But not Bethany. She exuded joy in worship. You could tell even from the balcony that she was thrilled to be worshipping the King of the universe.

Bethany's example changed my own attitude and facial expressions when I worship. Now when I sing songs of praise, I smile as big as Bethany did. Because it is an honor to connect with my amazing God in that way. When I sing about his holiness, it fills me with excitement. I get to have a relationship with a holy God!

"Problem" Children

This week I had a Sunday School training with Karl Bastian, the Kidologist. The topic was discipline, and I was eager to learn. That's one of the hardest things for me as a Sunday School teacher.

I walked out with a lot of great tips. Grace based tips. Which I love, because I'm a big fan of grace. All new ideas I'd never thought of, heard of, or tried before. I'm eager to try this out.

But the thing that struck me the most wasn't so much a tip as it was a perspective. Which was pretty much the perspective that framed all the tips.

You know those "good" kids? You know, the ones who bring you Christmas gifts and say please and thank you and never disrupt class? You probably aren't going to make a difference in their life. Why? Because their lives are already on a good trajectory. They usually come from good homes, homes where parents are doing a wonderful job teaching them about faith and how to live like Jesus. If you weren't in their lives, they'd probably still turn out to be wonderful Christians.

You know those "bad" kids? The ones who interrupt your class with fart noises and start chanting "no more rules!" (the latter actually happened to me last week). The ones who make you want to use duct tape as a disciplinary measure or pull your hair out because you can't? This is your greatest opportunity to make a difference in a kid's life. Not by punishing them or yelling at them. Not by striving to change their behavior. By partnering with them and being their friend and helping them understand what it means to be a Christian. By helping shape their heart and showing them that Jesus loves them—when they probably feel like no adult loves them.

Karl accomplished his goal (at least for me): to make us want those kinds of kids more than we want the "good" kids. Because if I want to make a difference in a kid's life, it's not going to be in the angelic kid's life. It's going to be in the life of an unloveable 5th grade boy that I loved anyway.

Dead Samaritan?

This isn't a new struggle for me, but it's one that has come to light again recently: how do you find the balance between personal safety and what Jesus taught about the Good Samaritan?

See, on Saturday I took a self defense class. The first half of the day was lecture, all about awareness and how to avoid situations where you'd have to use the defensive tactics we learned in the second half of the day. We learned that sometimes, even someone just asking you what time it is can be a "verbal bump" to distract or engage you and set you up for bad things.

So this left me confounded. If I can't even do something as simple as tell people what time it is, how am I supposed to be a good neighbor the way Jesus defines it? Or, should I take the risk and assume they are a good person who genuinely needs the time?

But then what about helping people in more blatantly risky situations? Like if I see someone stranded along the side of the road? Today's sermon was, coincidentally, about the good Samaritan. And my pastors talked about how no one stops to help people on the side of the road because there are hundreds of other people driving by and everyone thinks, "well, one of them will help." But someone has to be the one to stop. Am I immune from that just because I'm a woman?

And what element of this comes down to trusting God for protection? I mean I don't think trust means walking down a dark alley alone at night - that's probably more like testing him. But when it comes to helping someone who might actually need help or might be conning us?

But then at self-defense class we also watched a clip from Silence of the Lambs, based on the real way serial killer Ted Bundy got his victims - putting on a fake cast and pretending to move furniture with a broken arm. A woman would come by to help him and she'd end up on the back end of the furniture, getting into the truck. Clearly in that situation, it's a mistake to help the guy. But how do you know if it's a genuine case of someone needing help?

Now, I help people. I volunteer as a victim's advocate. I'm doing a flood clean-up day next Saturday. But those are planned avenues of helping. What about the times when you just see someone in need right then?

Because the fact of the matter is, the Samaritan didn't walk down that road looking for a robbery victim to help. It wasn't in his plans. He just found one and helped. And it was risky. It was a dangerous road, as evidenced by the band of robbers who'd injured the victim in the first place. And for the priest and Levite who passed by, helping the man would've meant becoming ceremoniously unclean and losing the ability to go to the temple until they went through the cleansing period. There was a cost besides the monetary cost of putting the guy up in an inn. There was risk. And yet the Samaritan took it. And Jesus' implication is that the priest and Levite should've, too.

So...what do you think? Where's the balance? How do you know whether to be an alert woman avoiding becoming a victim, or to be a good Samaritan to someone who genuinely has a need? How do you act as a good Samaritan without ending up a dead Samaritan? I'd love your input.

This Is My Offering

The church I grew up in didn't pass offering plates. Instead, we had boxes in the back of the auditorium and you could drop in your money as you came or left.

I liked this because it enabled more anonymity. You could give more secretly, not wondering if the person to your right or left judged you for letting the plate pass you or thought too highly of you because they saw you slip in a large sum. Plus, I felt like it showed more faith on the part of the church. They didn't need to shove a reminder to give in people's faces. They believed God would sustain the church as people freely gave. (At least, that was my perception.)

And when I read about the collection for the Tabernacle (Exodus 35) in college, it seemed familiar. People just brought what they had and gave it. No one passed a plate for people to drop their jewelry and goat hair into. And, in Exodus 36:5-7, we see that Moses had to tell people to STOP giving, because they'd reached their budget. (I wonder if any churches today would turn away funds if their budgets reached 100% before the end of the year? But I digress...) Obviously this non-compulsory giving campaign was successful even among those who'd just been worshipping a golden calf.

I've never been to another church that collected offering that way. Every church I visited in college (which was many), every church since then, has passed a plate. And there's a part of me that misses the boxes in the back of the room. (They did bring them forward for a prayer of dedication each service, so it wasn't totally separate.)

But, someone at work recently said she likes the passing of the plate during the service because it incorporates giving as an act of worship. It's not separate from the service, it's included because giving is one way we worship God. 

At LifeBridge, we pass a plate. But they always talk about how giving is an act of worship. They don't do it in that kind of way where they make you feel like a wicked rotten person if you don't give anything. They present it as another opportunity to worship God. And I do like thinking of it that way. 

I was raised to give 10% of my earnings from the time I got a $1.00 a week allowance. I remember getting my yearly giving statement saying that I gave $5.20 that year and thinking, "wow, that's a lot of money." (For this reason, I now prefer to give in cash and not in any particular assigned envelope, so that I don't develop a sense of pride for how much I gave. If I had that pride when I was giving $5.20 a year...I'm clearly susceptible to pride in this area.) So I never felt like giving was difficult...it's just the only way I know. I wouldn't say I gave because I felt obligated to. But, I also wouldn't say I considered it an act of worship. I just was obeying God.

So, I think there are pros and cons to both ways. And while I'll always have a part of me that misses the boxes in the back, I've come to realize that no matter how it's collected, when I give I can do so with an attitude of worship.

Leadership

A little while ago at work we did an exercise to illustrate leadership. One partner (me) in each pair had to ask the other about his or her summer plans. But our secret goal was to try to get our partners to copy our body language. So we were to make weird facial expressions, or be really obvious about crossing our legs, and so on.

My partner noticed that I was behaving a bit oddly, my hand in a strange position across my face. But he didn't copy me. Later on when the goal of the activity was revealed and we discussed the experience, he said, "If I'd have known you were leading me, I would've followed."

Someone else pointed out that nowhere in the rules of the exercise had we been told we couldn't just tell our partner, "copy my body language." We all just assumed that was a rule, so we didn't tell our partners the goal.

All in all, it was a really poignant lesson in leadership. Does your team know where you're trying to lead them? Or are you just expecting them to follow? They may be perfectly willing to follow, like my partner was, but they don't know the goal you're aiming toward. They don't know you're trying to lead them. So they don't follow.

Often, casting that vision is as simple as telling them. There's no unspoken rule like the one we assumed, that we had to lead in such a compelling way that they would copy our body language. Clear communication is an important step to leading your team.

If they know you're leading them, they'll probably follow.

Is It True?

When I was a kid and one of my sisters or I went to my dad with a complaint about a mean comment someone said about us, he always gave the same answer.

"Daaa-aad! Laurie said I'm ugly!"

"Is it true?"

"No."

"Well then don't let it bother you."

I don't know why we continued to go to him with similar complaints. It always went the same way: "Is it true? Well then don't let it bother you."

This principle sticks in my head any time I hear or perceive any kind of negative perceptions about me. It's made it easier for me to let insults roll off my back. Is it true? If not, then I don't let it bother me.

Of course, sometimes it is true. Those are the ones that sting the worst because it hits you right where you're most vulnerable. So if I ask myself, "Is it true?" and my answer is "yes" - it's time for another question. (This didn't come from my dad.)

The question is: Can I change it? If it's true and it's bothering me that someone said it, that means it's a trait I don't like about myself. And if I can work to change it, then I need to do so. And if I'm not willing to do so, I need to not let it bother me that someone said it. If it doesn't bug me enough to fix it, I need to move on.

And if it's true but I can't change it...well, then I need to remember that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. That my frame was not hidden from God when he knit me together. If it's true, and not a sin issue that God can help me change, that means it's a basic aspect of the way God made me. To be insulted by a comment about the way God made me is insulting to God. So these are the times I need to learn to accept the traits I may not be thrilled God gave me, and trust that it is all part of the way he wanted me to be.

Here's a flow chart to visualize my chain of thought:

Insult comes

|

Is it true?

/      \

Yes          No

/                    \

Can I change it?   Don't let it bother me

/          \                                  

Yes           No                                  

/                         \                                   

With God's help, change               Accept that that's how God made me  

   /                                           \            

(let it bother me enough to change it)          (don't let it bother me)             

Frindle

There's this wonderful kids' chapter book by Andrew Clements, called Frindle. In it, Nick Allen is an imaginative and mischievous fifth grader, who likes to mess with teachers in a basically harmless way.

His fifth grade language arts teacher, Mrs. Granger, was a worthy adversary for Nick's antics. When he tried to throw her lesson plan off course, she assigned him a bonus assignment to find out where the words in the dictionary came from.

And after he gives his report, he still has a question: "Yeah, but, you know, I still don't really get the idea of why words all mean different things. Like, who says that d-o-g means the thing that goes 'woof' and wags its tail? Who says so?"

Mrs. Granger responds, "Who says dog means dog? You do, Nicholas. You and I and everyone in this class and this school and this town and this state and this country. We all agree...but if all of us in this room decided to call that creature something else, and if everyone else did, too, then that's what it would be called, and one day it would be written in the dictionary that way. We decide what goes in that book."

And not long after, Nick had another idea. He wanted to test out his power over words. So he decided to start calling pens frindles. He got a few classmates on board and began by going in to a store, a different person each day, and asking for a frindle. Then they started using it in class, and it caught on. Before you knew it, it spread around the school. And Mrs. Granger tried to stop anyone from using it. She talked to Nick and asked if he was going to stop, but he said he wasn't. So she handed him a sealed letter, had him sign and date over the seal, and said he would get the letter when it was all over.

Well, kids kept using the word. So Mrs. Granger kept kids after school for using it. But that didn't stop kids, and before you know it parents were calling in and complaining, and bus drivers were threatening to go on strike because a hundred kids were staying late each day. And because of the uproar, the local paper did a story on it. And then a local news station in Boston saw the local paper and did a report, which was also aired in New York. And meanwhile a local business man trademarked the word, created pens with the word frindle on them, and gave 30% of all profits to Nick in a trust fund. And after the story aired in New York, some producers of David Letterman saw it and Nick was invited on the show. And so on it snowballed, the use of the word spreading. And eventually the hype died down, but all around the country people were using the word frindle.

And then the book fast forwards to Nick's junior year of college. He gets a package in the mail from Mrs. Granger, with a brand new dictionary and a note to turn to page 541. There it is. The word frindle is in Webster's College Dictionary. Also enclosed is the letter Nick signed when he was in fifth grade.

"If you are reading this letter, it means that the word frindle has been added to the dictionary. Congratulations.

"...The word frindle has existed for less than three weeks. I now see that this is the kind of chance that a teacher hopes for and dreams about—a chance to see bright young students take an idea they have learned in a boring classroom and put it to a real test in their own world. I confess that I am very excited to see how it all turns out. I am mostly here to watch it happen.

"But somehow I think I have a small part to play in this drama, and I have chosen to be the villain. Every good story needs a bad guy, don't you think?"

To me, this is the genius of the book. Every good story does need a villain—and in this story, the villain gave herself that role in order to further the plot. If she hadn't kept kids after school and made such a big stink about the word, it never would've spread beyond the walls of Nick's school.

I've been thinking about this book because I think it applies very much to the church. I look at the fire bombings going on in Egypt and I think—these are the moments in history when the church blossoms. When the church doesn't face persecution, it tends to fizzle out. When there is a risk to being a Christian, people have to be all in or not in at all. And Christians who are all in despite persecution draw attention. I pray for the Egyptians because what they are facing is unimaginably difficult—but I also wait in eager expectation to see what God will do there to show his power over the persecutors.

The church in America isn't doing so hot. And while we claim we are persecuted because Obama has a Ramadan dinner or they mix in some Hanukkah songs on the radio in December, we know that there's really little risk to being a Christian here. There's nothing threatening our freedom. And without the villain, without the enemy, we can be lukewarm, "Sunday Christians." We don't have to unite together against a common enemy. Satan's plot against the church in America is to make it easy to be a nominal Christian. And it's working.

It's hard because I don't want to be persecuted. I'm comfortable. I don't want to have to deal with the kinds of things Christians in Egypt are! Who does? And yet I feel that without a real enemy, the Church in America will continue to dwindle.

"Every good story needs a bad guy, don't you think?"

Editing

When I was in high school, my job was operating the shot clock at school basketball games. It was a pretty sweet gig and higher paying per hour than most high school jobs were. And it was a lot of fun.

But I noticed that when I would watch college basketball games on TV during high school and into my freshman year of college, my finger would twitch when the shot clock needed to be reset. My brain was so programed to hit that reset button that I did it without thinking—even when there was no button to press.

Fast forward to after college, when I worked for a church in the children's ministry. One part of my job was making the kids' bulletin, and that interfaced with my life, too. I'd look for new kinds of puzzles I could use when I was doing puzzles in my free time, and I couldn't get through a sermon without playing the bingo I'd created...and looking around to see how many kids were using the bulletin.

So it wasn't surprising to me that when I became an editor, it impacted the way I read. To clear up a common point of confusion, I'm a content editor. Although I do fix grammatical mistakes when I see them, my job is making sure content makes sense, fits our filters, and is the best it can be. I do a lot of critiquing, rearranging, and evaluating. Then we have an awesome team of assistant editors who polish it up and make it all consistent and grammatically accurate.

And I noticed almost immediately after starting my job that the speed at which I read books in my free time slowed waaaay down. Because I was constantly critiquing the order of things, and wondering whether the editor made the writer include that sentence...stuff like that.

But recently I realized that editing impacts my life in a far greater way than just the way I read books. And it's not good. I realized that I edit people. When I see someone I haven't met, when I hear someone talk, when I interact with someone...I realized that my brain is editing even then. I'm critiquing. I'm evaluating. I'm thinking of how to make what they do, say, or look like better for the setting.

It's really pretty terrible. It's presumptuous at best. But really...it's just plain sinful. Why am I editing something God made? I think he might know a little better than me. Maybe it's time to edit inward and learn to stop editing people.

Settling In

This post has been percolating in my head since last Sunday. Since just hours after I wrote my post about seeing my neighbors through God's eyes. (I told you he still had work to do.)

Last Sunday I went for a walk with the pups. And when I came back, my new neighbor, one whom I've only been able to see as a caricature of this obnoxious irresponsible drunk, was sitting on her front step smoking.

So me and the pups went over to say hi. And then she and I had a 15-20 minute conversation about random small talk type stuff - the weather, where we'd grown up, etc. And I went into my house feeling like I was beginning to see her as an actual person. Not that anything in this conversation was deeply profound, it was just...a normal conversation. Which was what I needed to start to see her as a normal person.

And then later on, as I sat on my back porch quietly reading, my presence seemingly unknown to her, I got a glimpse into an area of pain in her life. And that's when I first started to see her through God's eyes. No longer a caricature, and not simply as a normal person, but as a normal person with real struggles and pain. A normal person who needed to know she was valuable and loved.

And in fact, I had something to offer her to help with this pain. And I don't mean a simple religious answer—I need to build a relationship with her to get there. I mean I knew of someone who might be able to help her. I tried to be non-invasive about it—she hadn't opened up her pain to me on purpose—but I gave her a pamphlet and said maybe it could help her. I realized as soon as I heard her pain that this was the way I was meant to speak up and use my powerful words this week.

You see how everything God's been teaching me is all tying together?

Fast forward to Tuesday. I went to Anchor, a 20-something group at my new church. The message was about Jeremiah 29. Which delighted me so much because one of my pet peeves is when people quote Jeremiah 29:11 all the time out of context. But this message was about Jeremiah 29. Contextually. Yay!

And as we talked about transition and about how the Judeans were supposed to treat their exile as a kind of permanent thing...a lightbulb went off. You see, the Judeans were supposed to settle into the land. They were supposed to build houses—not pitch tents. They were supposed to plant gardens, producing for the land that had been the land of their enemies. They were supposed to build meaningful relationships, not putting marriage on hold. And they were even supposed to seek the prosperity of this place that didn't feel like home, that they would've wanted to see as a temporary transition.

And that's when it hit me. I've been living here for 5 years, and based on my plans I'll be here for 3 more years while I save for a house. The whole time I've lived here I've felt like I'd live here until I can buy a house. I've recognized that this is what I hope will be my last rental home. But I've seen it as a temporary home. A step while I get my 20% down saved up. I've never really viewed it as a neighborhood to settle into for 8-ish years. A neighborhood to contribute to, to be an active part of, to seek the prosperity of. A place to build meaningful relationships. I've settled into my internal home with my stuff, but not the society of people around me.

You see, part of the problem with focusing on Jeremiah 29:11 is that it focuses on God's plans for the future. And hopefully for me, that includes home ownership. But when you focus on God's plans for the future all the time, you can miss out on God's plans for you right now. Right now, God has called me here to this rental. God has called me to dwell among the people here and embrace life here, however annoying my neighbors may be at times. And I've been too focused on my plans for a house to accept that. I've been viewing my neighbors (at least the annoying ones) as an obnoxious thing I have to put up with while I wait for life to get better.

Jeremiah 29 isn't primarily about God's plans for the future. It's about embracing God's plan for you right now and in the future. And it's about time I embrace life here on my street.

"Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. PRay to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper." - Jer Bear 29:7

Recharged

I have a Wii, and my Wii remotes have rechargeable batteries.

One thing I've noticed is that if I go a while without using my Wii, even though the remotes haven't had to do any work, the batteries are completely drained just from being away from the recharging station for that long. This annoys me greatly because you're not supposed to leave them there all the time, so it's like you have to think ahead to when you might want to use the Wii.

I've also noticed that when I begin my day with God, soaking in his word and enjoying his presence, I'm recharged and energized for the day. Too much time without that and I get crabby. I don't operate well. Even if I don't encounter a lot of stress or problems, just being away from God for that long drains me.

It is so important that I spent time in my recharging station—focused time in God's presence.

Words

This week's sermon was about James 3. We've been going through James at church, and while I'm somewhat familiar with the whole book, I'm really familiar with the taming your tongue section. Not that I felt I couldn't learn anything from the sermon, because God knows my tongue is far from tame...but I didn't expect to make any new discoveries. Just to be re-challenged to shut my yapper.

But instead, the pastor took James 3 in a totally different direction than I'd ever thought about. He talked about the power of words. That just as the rudder of a ship can power the large vessel, our words have that kind of power. But not just to do damage (like wildfires)...to change the course of history. Our words have the power to change lives for the better.

Think about this: what are the most memorable negative words anyone has ever said to you? For me, a friend in college said of a guy who'd just broken my heart, "He probably just didn't think you were worth it." And for 9 years, those words have haunted me no matter how hard I try to push past them. Nine words, spoken by a college student...probably a lifetime of wondering if I'm worth it.

And that's what I always thought James 3 was about. Watch your words because you don't want to be the person who tells someone something that will land them in counseling for years. You don't want to be the offensive racist who loses her job because she used the "n" word once years ago. And I say all kinds of things without thinking, so I need to tame my tongue in the shut-your-yapper sense.

But think about this: what are the most memorable positive words anyone has ever said to you? The first ones that come to my mind happened in middle school, back in 1997. I was whining about something when a classmate said to me, "It takes very little in life to be happy. Take that quote and fly with it." A middle schooler said that! And here we are, 16 years later, and when I'm having a bad day I often think back to that moment, and it helps me regain perspective. 16 words, spoken in adolescence, have changed my outlook through many problems. (It was a complete coincidence that the 9-year quote was 9 words and this one was 16.)

James 3 doesn't just mean shut your yapper. It means speak up. Speak up for what's right. Be a voice for the voiceless like Martin Luther King, Jr. Speak words of inspiration like my middle school classmate. Make someone's day with a word of encouragement or a friendly compliment. Your words are powerful...so use them!

Superman has amazing powers. And he could've used them for evil—that's like the negative side of taming your tongue. But he also could've not used them at all. He could've said, "well I don't want to hurt anyone with my powers...but I'm not going to go to any effort to use them for good." And I realized, that's what happens when we think James 3 means to shut your yapper. We miss out on using something very powerful to do a lot of good and change the world.

And how do you tame your tongue? Not by trying to tame your tongue. Your tongue's job is to broadcast what's in your heart. Ask God to change your heart so that your tongue uses its powers for good.

"May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord my Rock and my Reedemer."
- Psalm 19:14

God's Eyes

You know how sometimes, when God teaches you something, you're kind of thick-skulled about it so he keeps bringing it up?

Yeah, that happens to me kind of a lot.

So my last blog was about how God loves everyone just as much as he loves me. And how I need to see people with the kind of love he does. Only here's what happened next.

My neighbors were obnoxious again. Blasting music and talking outside my window late at night. And I thought about my blog and what I'd been learning, I really did. So I prayed for my neighbors and thanked God for the opportunity to grow in patience. I prayed that he'd help me reach out to my neighbors and love them more.

And when my prayer was done, I laid in bed and stewed anyway. And plotted about setting my alarm for 4 am to play ding dong ditch and see how they liked being kept awake.

Midnight is not my finest hour.

But then yesterday, I was editing a lesson about Jonah 4. That's the one after God spares Nineveh, where Jonah sits and stews about it. And then he wants to kill himself because his little vine dies. He is so absorbed in himself and the dumb little things in his life like a vine, and he's completely oblivious to the fact that maybe he needs an attitude check about the Ninevites.

Kind of like lying in my cozy bed stewing about how I can't sleep with my windows open because my neighbors are too loud? And plotting revenge?

The point of that lesson was that God wants us to love everyone. There's even an activity in it where kids make glasses with one lens that describes their view of someone they don't like, and the other lens describes God's view of that person.

And I thought...I need to see my neighbors through God-colored glasses.

But apparently God hadn't gotten the message through enough to me, because today in my Sunday School class we read this passage: "For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer" (2 Corinthians 5:14-16, emphasis added).

So that's what God-colored glasses look like. Not a worldly point of view, but a love that compelled Jesus to die for everyone. And that love is meant to compel us.

I'm gonna guess God has more to say to me on this topic, especially considering that this very clear challenge was given in the sermon: "Encourage a neighbor this week." And I thought, "ughhh...fine." So I think he still has some heart work to do. But I'm listening.

God's Love

Here's a quote from this week's sermon at LifeBridge:

"You and I are never gonna lock eyes with anyone who God doesn't love as much as he loves you." - Rick Rusaw, Senior Minister

Now maybe to many people, that doesn't sound particularly profound or jarring. But it was something I needed to hear.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm one of God's favorites. Not because I feel entitled or like I deserve his love more than anyone else—I know I don't—but because he's blessed me so much and I just feel such a great connection with him.

But you know how sometimes on the Bachelorette, guys that think they are a shoe-in and keep telling the camera they have the strongest connection with the girl...those guys end up going home? It's easy for them to think they've got a stronger connection because they don't see the girl's relationship with the other guys. They only see their own. And they make a comparison even though they only see the one side.

This quote was in the context of a sermon about James 2, where he says not to show favoritism. I'll be honest, I judge people far too often. How they dress, how they wear their hair, how they talk. And at least in my head, I show favoritism accordingly. But this passage tells us not to show favoritism because that's not a reflection of God. God doesn't show favoritism. I'm not one of his favorites because he doesn't have any.

When my neighbor felt it was a good idea to blast music for hours straight from his car...at midnight...God loved him as much as he loves me.

When my other neighbor let her 5- and 8-year old girls play outside at midnight on a different night, presumably while she was passed out drunk...God loved her as much as he loves me.

When the creepy guy came up to me in Walmart and starting telling me about math equations in Spanish...God loved him as much as God loves me.

When someone disagrees with me about religion or politics or moral values...God loves that person as much as he loves me.

When the people from Westboro Baptist who give Christians such a bad name picket at gay people's funerals...as hard as it is to believe...God loves those misguided baptists as much as he loves me. (And he loves the gay person who died just as much, too.)

I want to learn to see the value of others through the eyes of God. To see how even people who don't meet my standards of lovableness do meet God's. Which is pretty backwards since he is much more entitled to harsh standards for lovableness. I want to realize that I am no more lovable—or more to the point, no more loved—than anyone I come into contact with. I want to really get that in my thoughts, words, and actions toward others.

My Church

I've been doing a lot of "church shopping" lately. I had some pretty tough criteria and couldn't quite find something to measure up. And I know that when I settle for a church that's not what I'm really looking for, I end up just sleeping in on Sunday.

A few weeks ago, I found a church that I already love. It's LifeBridge Church in Longmont and it's just what I was looking for! Here are some things I love about it:

Worship: Worship is a priority at LifeBridge. They don't skimp on songs at all. It's a nice long set of worship songs. And they pick very God-centered songs, not the me-centered ones, which I can only assume is intentional. Plus, they're not flashy with roving lights and fog machines, which I find distract me from worship. Since I really don't like sermons, worship is the most important aspect of the Sunday service for me...so this has been great.

Size: One of the things I wanted was a larger church. One, for more opportunities to connect and find the small group type things I'm looking for. And two, because I love the feeling of worshipping with a big group of people. LifeBridge has 4 weekend services and I'd say the auditorium holds about 1,000 people, so it's a good size church. BUT...sometimes you can get lost in large churches. Somehow, LifeBridge has the sense of community that feels more like a small church. It's a great balance. And with three Sunday services, I can make one trip and go to my adult class, serve in Sunday School, and go to the main church service.

Welcoming Environment: Some churches you go to, you feel like it's hard to even find someone to talk to about your questions. Other churches, you get swarmed by 15 people at once and it's overwhelming. At LifeBridge, there were plenty of people around for me to talk to, and they were very friendly and welcoming when I did...but no one bombarded me. I also went to an adult class and everyone was super nice and friendly. It was just the right level of genuine friendliness and not scary over-friendliness.

Communion: Communion is done weekly. That's not something I've seen often at non-liturgical churches, but it's the one thing I did prefer about liturgical churches. So I love that!

Sermons: As I said above, I don't like sermons. So what I like about them is that they're pretty short. Mostly because they pack in so much worship, there's not as much time left for the sermon. I also like that there's no fill-in-the-blank outline provided. I hate those - and I never use them. To me they make the sermon about listening for key words the preacher thinks are most important, rather than listening for how God is speaking to you through the sermon in the ways that are most important for your life. And the sermons are applicable, which is great.

Adult Classes: I mentioned above the class I went to. I only have gone once but it is just what I'm looking for - genuine discussion. Like - we got through 6 questions in an hour kind of discussion. You know it's a good question when it yields that kind of discussion. It was interesting, stimulating, made me think differently, and there were donuts. Donuts always help sway my vote. :)

Last night I also went to a new thing they're trying out for the summer, called Anchor. Anchor is for 18-30 year olds so I just barely made the cut. Anchor was great because it was not a singles' mixer, as many 20-something groups end up being at churches. No one checked me out - in fact there were several married women at my table. We worshiped a bunch (I told you that's a high value!), we had a short message, and then we had a follow-up discussion to the message that asked real, connecting questions. I knew when I walked in and saw round tables instead of rows of chairs, I was gonna like this. LifeBridge seems to get discussion and relationships in a way many churches don't.

Community: LifeBridge has "neighborhood pastors" - many of the pastors on staff are assigned to a section of the community - one of them is Loveland. So I'm working with my neighborhood pastor to get plugged into a small group here in town. Since the church is almost 30 minutes away, it's great that they have something for us northern folk - and that they're strategic about it. That's a little slower going as the Loveland neighborhood pastor just started in this area, so he's pulling everything together right now. But I'm confident, based on everything else I've experienced at LifeBridge, that I'll find something that's a great fit.

LifeBridge is also involved in the community with mentors for at-risk kids. And they have a foster and adoptive parents ministry. They have a ministry called "glocal" - focusing on both global and local outreach.

I love that there's this great balance of worship (connection to God), relationships (connection to other Christians), and service (connection to the world around us). I'm super excited to call it my church family!

Faith + Works

I attended a new-to-me church this weekend and I think it's just what I'm looking for. The pastor began a series on James and talked about how faith and works mesh together like gears to propel one forward. He talked about living out faith and how genuine faith results in good works.

And I kept thinking about this woman I'd seen in the Wal-Mart parking lot last Monday, standing with a cardboard sign that said "Help! I'm stranded!" And I'd driven on by.

Now I know that there are a lot of scammers today who just want to milk you for money. I heard of one guy who saw a beggar at his highway off-ramp every day on his way to work, and he'd give him some money. Finally, he stopped and offered the guy a low-level job at his company. When they got to the issue of payment, the man said, "I make way more than that standing on that off-ramp every day and I don't have to pay taxes on it." And he turned down the job.

And of course there's the stereotypical view that they'll just use the money to buy alcohol. A habit I don't want to foster.

But that being said, there are genuine people in need, and they shouldn't have to suffer because of the bad apples out there. So a while back I bought a few $10 McDonalds gift cards to have handy when I saw people in need. That way they could get a meal or a few warm cups of coffee on a cold day.

And yet, when I saw this woman in need, I drove on past her. My $10 gift cards remained in my purse, a tangible reminder of the so-called faith that remained tucked safely away behind my brand new dress. A faith not lived out is as useful as a pre-paid $10 gift card not given to someone in need.

Plus, I'm a newly trained victim's advocate for a local non-profit. And I keep thinking about this woman and wondering if maybe she was on the run from an abuser, and that's why she was stranded. If I'd stopped and talked to her, maybe I could've heard her story and called the agency to see if they could help. But instead I hurried about my business.

Upon hearing the sermon, I resolved to keep a special eye out this week for people in need, and be prepared to give out the first of my stash of gift cards. Lo-and-behold, not an hour after leaving church, I saw a man with a sign on that same Walmart parking lot corner. So I pulled over, got out of my car, and gave him a gift card. I told him to get a good meal, and went off with a "God bless you." It's not much, but it's something.

Maybe he's just playing people like me for the pity card. At least I know he can't buy alcohol with a McDonalds gift card. But I was glad God gave me the opportunity so quickly after that sermon to put my faith to action and to help someone get a meal.

Born to Write

I'm always fascinated to hear stories of how kids show their personalities at an early age, and how that connects to where they end up in life. And that includes my own reflections on childhood.

I didn't go to preschool; my mom helped each of us kids learn to read and write and such before we went off to kindergarten. And the thing I absolutely loved was my phonics workbook.

My sisters would get on the school bus in the morning and my mom didn't have any time to settle down before I would say, "Can we do phonics!?!? Can we do phonics!?!?" I was so eager to learn to read and write.

Now, I'm a writer and editor. I love thinking back on little 4-year old Ali begging to learn to read and write, and thinking about how God created me to do just what I do. He knew when he knit me together in my mother's womb that he was making me with a passion for words. He knew he was wiring me with a dose of creativity that he would use for his kingdom as I grew up to work for a Christian publishing company.

I didn't just fall into this job by coincidence. God created me with a specific purpose in mind, and that purpose was wired in me from early in my childhood. I couldn't wait to get started! It gives me goosebumps to think about how God has a purpose in mind for each of us and wires us to do just that.

Neighbors

Recently, I posted on Facebook that I started a spreadsheet to help me remember my neighbors' names. I've lived in this rental for almost 5 years now, and I've seen a lot of turnover in the adjoining townhomes. So I've had a hard time keeping track of everyone.

But recently I was thinking about the kind of neighbor I used to be. Back in Wisconsin, in my first apartment. Without any kind of spreadsheet and even after years have passed, I clearly remember many of my neighbors and their names. I've blogged about some of them before. But most recently, I was thinking about the way I treated those neighbors.

There was Page, a very shy little girl I invited to VBS at my church, where she blossomed. Her mom came to the closing event and was amazed at how much Page had come out of her shell. I don't know where Page is today, but I hope she remembers that week at VBS and how much she loved learning about Jesus.

There was Olivia, a 5th grader who was delighted when I gave her a children's Bible. I had many conversations with her and her mom, and I wonder: does Olivia still have that Bible? Does she read it? Is she seeking to know more about God today?

There was Emmanuel and Shoshanda, a brother and sister in a home of neglect and physical abuse that I never could prove to CPS. But I gave them what their parents didn't: attention, care, and love. When Emmanuel hit his head and his parents just yelled at him to finish the task they'd asked their 3-year old to do, I helped him get them their keys and then I hugged him until the tears stopped. I played hopscotch and jump rope with Shoshanda. And I wonder: did my influence in their lives give them a glimpse that not all people are mean? That there is hope and love in this world?

There was Tish, a single mom with 6 kids under the age of 8. Like me, Tish lived on the 2nd floor. But unlike me, she had two kids who couldn't walk and a third who could only barely crawl up the stairs. And since her oldest wasn't old enough to safely carry the others up the stairs, I would listen through my thin walls for the sound of Tish and her kids entering the building, and I'd go down to help her carry them all upstairs. When my ex and I got the dishes on our wedding registry, we gave her my old set and discovered she only had one small pot. So a week later when we unexpectedly got a gift card to Walmart, we used it to buy her a pot set, other kitchen utensils, and some toys for the kids. And I wonder: does Tish have a good support system now? Does she know that God loves her?

There was Jessica, whom I never met but often heard through my floor, fighting with her boyfriend. And after one particularly mean fight in which her boyfriend talked about how much hotter his ex was, I left a note on her door to let her know that she was beautiful and God loved her, and not to let anyone tell her otherwise.

There was the neighbor I saw getting shoved by a man, and I called the police. Later, I received a subpoena and helped put the man in jail for his assault. I only actually met that neighbor in the court's waiting area after I testified. But I'm glad I was able to help keep her safe from this man for at least a little bit.

I say these things not to brag about my good deeds, but out of conviction. What happened to me being that kind of neighbor? The one who saw the needs of those around her and stepped in to help? The one who reached out? Because in the five years I've been in Colorado, I've done hardly anything to help my neighbors. And maybe it's because my neighbors here don't have needs quite so obvious. And my walls aren't paper thin anymore so I can't hear the problems carry through them.

Or maybe it's because I've retreated inward, used my introvertedness as an excuse not to see or help when I see people around me hurting.

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

- Luke 10:36-37

May I be the kind of neighbor who shows mercy and compassion.

Kid Mistake #297

When I was growing up and one of my sisters or I did something only a kid would think is a good idea, my dad would give it an arbitrary "Kid Mistake" number.

One that popped into my head today was when my best friend Liz and I thought it would be fun to toss all my stuffed animals up into a tree. And while it was fun tossing them up there...I distinctly remember looking up at the high branches and thinking...now what? Kid Mistake #297 came to light.

The saying that hindsight is 20/20 is so true. Not just because you saw the results of your mistake, but because as you grow older and wiser, you're better at seeing "kid mistakes" like throwing stuffed animals into a tree—before you make the mistakes. Who but a kid would even think of that idea in the first place?

But it's not just kid-to-adult wisdom that comes. I think of who I was and the kinds of choice I made 5 years ago and I am a very different person now. I feel so much better equipped to make wise choices. But I know that 5 years from now, I'll look back at my 29-year old self and say, "Oh, I was such a child. Look at the dumb things I did."

I really love this trajectory of wisdom growth, because it gives me hope when I see my own foolishness. I know that I will learn and grow wiser in that area, if I rely on God to continue to fill me with his wisdom. By the grace of God, I've got nowhere to go but up.

Legacy

My grandmother (on my dad's side) is in her final days. I have mixed emotions as I reflect on it.

On the one hand, I'm sad because it's my Grandma...my own flesh and blood. A quarter of me is her. Without her, there wouldn't be a me. It's sad to think that I won't see her again.

On the other hand, she's lived a long and full life. She's in pain, and she lost her husband (my grandfather) over a decade ago. To think that she'll be freed from pain and reunited with Grandpa, her husband of 49 years before his passing, is a beautiful thought.

But mostly, I think of the legacy she leaves behind. To be honest, I didn't see her all that often and wasn't that close with her. But the impact her life has made is obvious. She and Grandpa had 9 kids and over 30 grandchildren, along with some great grandchildren so far, and I'm sure more to come. I can't even remember the names of all my cousins. Never could, even as a kid when there were fewer and I saw them more often.

Among her kids and grandkids are pastors, people who've gone on missions trips, and others, like myself, who are devoted to serving God in whatever capacity he's called them to. She didn't just have a lot of descendants—she passed on her faith to them. And they've continued to pass it on. Her life, even as it fades away, will live on through all these people touching more and more lives with God's love. The butterfly effect.

I have this image of her standing before God in heaven with Grandpa, with pictures surrounding them of all these faith-filled lives left in their legacy. That's what brings tears to my eyes. To think of the difference one person (or two) can make to leave their mark on this earth.

Now, I'm still firm in my desire not to have children. But I still want to leave that kind of legacy. And I believe that I can, thanks to this wonderful place God has called me to work. As I edit curriculum to help children, youth, and adults grow in their relationship with Jesus, I'm touching lives, too. Not in as personal a way, but in the way God has called me to.

I hope that when I'm the one about to stand before God, there will be many images of lives he's changed through my work, of a legacy of faith I've left behind.

"I want to leave a legacy 

How will they remember me?
Did I choose to love?

Did I point to You enough
To make a mark on things?

I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace who blessed your name unapologetically
And leave that kind of legacy."

- Nichole Nordeman

Sacred Cow

I can't remember if I've blogged about this story before, but I just thought of it and felt like sharing it, because it shows the impact of a caring, selfless gesture.

It was 8th grade, and our class went on a field trip to the Boston Museum of Science. Which, as any good museum field trip does, ended in the gift shop.

At the time I was very into holstein cows. And there, in the gift shop, was a beanie baby cow. I thought it was so cute, and I really wanted it. But I didn't have any money. (My mom wasn't the type to give me money to spend in over-priced gift shops...)

There was this guy named C.J. in my class, a very nice guy who in high school went on to be a great class president and I'm sure is up to wonderful things now. He had $20 to spend, and he'd picked out a big glow-in-the-dark ball and one other item that together added up to $20. But when he saw my plight, he put back his glow-in-the-dark ball and spent some of his money to buy me the cow.

It wasn't a romantic gesture or anything. Just a nice thing from a friend who saw how much I wanted that cow.

C.J. could've bought that glow-in-the-dark ball and ignored my wants, and no one would've blamed him. It's not like I was starving and needed food. It was just a silly cow. But he selflessly disregarded his own wants to put me first.

Fifteen years later, I still have that cow. Would he have kept a giant ball all these years? Probably not. Fifteen years later, had he done the selfish thing, no one would've cared one way or the other. But he did the selfless thing—a rare decision for a middle school boy. And fifteen years later, I still think back on that incident often and am reminded to put others first. You never know what kind of lifelong impact you can make by buying someone a beanie baby cow.

Grace

I’ve always been a big fan of grace. Back when I thought I wanted kids, that was my girl’s name of choice.

I guess it’s because I need so much of it, and yet have such a hard time giving it to myself.

I’m a very goal-oriented person with a lot of lists and spreadsheets and plans. And lately I’ve learned to give myself a little grace in some of those areas. I like my house clean, but the world won’t end if I don’t vacuum one week. Especially if my floors don’t even look messy. And who cares if I don’t read as many books as I wanted to this year? If I stress myself out trying to do it—what have I really accomplished? Or, when my page-a-day puzzle calendar puzzle is more stressful than fun...who cares if I cheat a little? The point is that it's supposed to be fun.

The pendulum can swing too far—where you let things keep sliding and have no goals. I don’t think that’s a big risk for me, but I’m watchful of it. But if you’re feeling stressed about the long to-do list ahead of you—see which things you can cut out this week. Give yourself some grace.

Why?

About a year ago, I was put into a leadership position at my work. Which was a great honor and has been a great joy. But I’m young, and I have a lot to learn about leadership.

Peanut, inspiring pup that she is, taught me one lesson. I’d actually heard a couple much wiser leaders at work make comments to this effect before Peanut helped me learn it firsthand.

The point I’d heard was that in leadership, it’s important to understand why. For example, if someone asks for a deadline extension, understand why they want it. Is there an unrelated task they think they need to do before the deadline in question, and that task really doesn’t need to be done? Do they think there’s more due on that deadline than you’re expecting?

So here’s what Peanut did. It was the middle of the night, and I woke up to her whining. She was standing on the dresser. (She has a stool next to it so she can get up there to look out the window.) I told her to stop whining and get down. She kept whining. More and more insistently, I kept telling her to stop whining and come to bed. Finally, I woke up enough to realize she was whining because in the dark, she didn’t know how to jump on the stool and get down. The reason she was whining was because she couldn’t do the very thing I also wanted her to do! So I turned on a lamp and she got down.

A speaker at a leadership conference gave this example: two girls are fighting over an orange. The mom sees this, cuts the orange in half, and gives each girl a half. One girl throws out the peel and eats the orange. The other girl throws out the orange and uses the peel to bake something.

When we don’t understand why, waste happens. When we do understand why, we may be able to make everyone happy without even having to compromise.

Perspective

The story of Peter walking on water (Matthew 14:22-33) is one of my favorites, because every time I read it I see things in a different way. One thing that struck me recently was Peter’s focus and perspective.

When he gets out of the boat, it’s already windy. There’s already waves. But he walks confidently toward Jesus.

When he gets scared, it’s after he’d already started walking. He’d already seen what focusing on Jesus could do. But he lost perspective.

I’ve seen what Jesus can do in my life, too. But like Peter, sometimes I get distracted by the problems and fears surrounding me. And I need to remember that problems and nothing when I focus on Jesus.

He’s given me all the power I need. And he’s already shown me what can happen when I keep my perspective on the power, rather than the problems.

King David

Here’s the thing that amazes me most about King David: he was anointed king years before he actually became the king. He knew God’s plan when he was a musician playing in the king’s palace. When he was a lowly shepherd boy slinging rocks at a giant. When the king tried to kill him (over, and over). When he lived like a fugitive. When he had the chance to kill the king.

All that time, David just waited. He knew God’s plan. He knew it. But he waited patiently. He didn’t turn around and sling a rock at Saul. Or kill him when he caught him taking care of business in a cave. 

I remember going to a writer’s conference a couple years ago and Jerry B. Jenkins answered an audience question about what he’d tell his young self if he could. Jerry said, “I’d tell myself, ‘you’re going to be very, very lucky.’” And I thought, “I wouldn’t want to know.”

Because if I knew that I was going to rule a country or sell best-selling books…I wouldn’t be patient about it. I’d try to make it happen sooner. I’d try to rush God’s plans. If I knew now that 10 years from now I’d be doing X (assuming I liked plan X), I’d try to make it happen in 1 year. The Bible says David was a man after God’s own heart. And with the exception of a few really bad decisions in there, he showed it over and over again. But one way that I’ve often overlooked in that is his patience.

 Sometimes I feel like I want a spoiler of certain things that will happen in my life. But thank God, he hasn’t shown them to me.

Healthy Choices

If you thought this blog was going to be about healthy food choices—hi, my name is Ali, and I am a carbivore. Now that that’s out of the way…

Over the last year or so, I’ve done a lot of self-discovering. One thing I’ve realized is that I’m a lot more introverted than I ever realized. And I’ve learned things I need to do—or not do—to respect who I am. I’ve realized it’s okay to say no to something you really don’t want to do.

For example, I’ve been invited to a few parties by people I barely knew—at which the person I barely knew would be the only person I knew at all. There was a time when I would’ve thought, “I should go. It will be good for me to stretch myself.” But I realized that’s only a good reason to do something if there’s a compelling reason to be stretched. So I said no to those parties, knowing they would exhaust me and I would feel awkward the whole time.

I’ve also had to re-evaluate some of my ministry commitments in light of what was best for me. I had to back down from some things to pursue new callings. And even though in many ways the new callings are going to be harder and more outside of my comfort zone, they’re much better for my emotional health. I’ve learned I can make choices about how to serve in an emotionally healthy way.

I’ve had to unfriend or hide people on Facebook in order to take care of myself. I’ve seen firsthand how much better I feel when I exercise daily and sleep on a regular schedule. (Though somehow, I manage to make excuses about the exercise thing…) I’ve learned that speed-reading through the Bible in a year leaves me empty and dry, but super-slow reading through 8 chapters in a year and really meditating on them makes me sense God’s presence more and more.

I’m not saying this to advocate making selfish decisions. My point is simply that it’s important to know who you are and making godly decisions in light of that. That doesn’t mean that if you hate action movies, you should always say no to watching them with your significant other, who loves them. But it might mean that if action movies replay in your head and fill you with fears, you find ways to cope with that.

And if it’s a decision that really has no bearing on anyone else, and it’s not a matter of choosing to sin—do whatever you want. Don’t go to the party. Read the Bible the way that means the most to you.

Because if you don’t take care of yourself, you’ll burn out pretty soon trying to take care of others.

Turbulence

When I flew home at Christmas, I had the scariest flight experience of my life. Most of the flight was smooth, but as we began our descent we hit some turbulence. And this wasn't just a few little bumps. The plane was bouncing all over the place. You could see people's heads bobbing up and down. At one point the plane was on its side, and you could tell it wasn't because the pilot was trying to make a turn.

The plane felt completely out of control.

And of course, the only thing I could do in that moment was pray. I couldn't take over the piloting, and even if I was an expert pilot, it wouldn't have made a difference. I couldn't stop the air currents from causing the turbulence. But I had a lot at stake: Dunkin Donuts awaited me.

Well, the extreme turbulence continued through the entire descent. Even as the wheels hovered just a few feet off the runway, ready to touch down, the plane felt out of control. People clapped when we landed safely.

I'm someone who definitely likes to feel in control. I do a lot of planning ahead. I map out how each day should go. I arrange things just the way I want them. I have 16 dog-shaped erasers on my desk at work and when a co-worker turned two around so they didn't face the same direction as the others, I noticed within a couple of working days and rectified the problem.

And in the airport just before the flight, I'd been writing in a journal about my control issues. And that sometimes, I needed to learn to let go. That there were some things I just couldn't control and shouldn't try to.

So, chalk that turbulence up to God giving me an experience to cement that principle. When I was in a situation where I felt out of control, it was completely instinctual to go to the One who could bring control. The One who really was in control all along.

Now I just need to learn to give him the flight plan.

Moment

"This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it." —Psalm 118:24

Lately I've been thinking a lot about being present. Not that this is new for me. Like many women, I struggle with enjoying the moment I'm in...always thinking about what I'm going to do next and trying to do too many things at once.

I've been reading Jesus Calling for my devotional time, and this is a recurring theme. Several weeks ago (February 25) it said "Do not bolt into the day like a racehorse suddenly released. Instead, walk purposefully with Me, letting Me direct your course one step at a time."

The verse that introduced this blog came to mind then, and I thought...it's not just the day the Lord has made. Maybe I need to break it down further. This is the moment the Lord has made. I don't want to let it slip past me.

One reason I love to go to hot yoga class is because it forces me to embrace the moment. In yoga, you have to give so much focus to the way you're moving your body, the breathing, the balance, everything...you can't leave that moment. You can't get distracted. Much more so in hot yoga, in a class with other people, than when I use a DVD at home. This is a great practice for me.

I'm training to be a volunteer where I'll be working with people who've experienced trauma. Last week in training we talked about vicarious trauma - when you move from empathy to sympathy after dealing with so many victims of trauma and begin to experience the same emotions and reactions as the original victims. The trainer talked about various strategies to avoid and/or cope with this. One thing he talked about was being able to remain in the present. He talked about a few ways to do that but one thing that stuck out to me was to focus on the things going on around you. What do you smell, hear, feel, taste, and see?

I've been applying that to my life when I feel like I'm getting too far ahead of myself...because this principle applies in many situations, not just vicarious trauma. How many times do I miss what's going on around me because I'm living in a past or future moment? When I realize that's happening, I stop, take a deep breath, and focus on my senses.

Mother Teresa once said, "Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin."

Ms.

I can't remember a time as a kid when I didn't just dream of being married. That was my number one goal in life, especially once I hit my teen years. I daydreamed about my husband, kept a journal for him, prayed for him, set up a "marriage display" in my bedroom. On the few occasions where someone dared to raise the idea that I might not end up getting married, I was terrified. How could I possibly live if God had called me to be single?

It wasn't like the typical little-girl-dreaming-of-her-wedding-day kind of thing. I actually thought very little of my wedding day. I never put a pillowcase on my head and pretended to be a bride. I didn't think about what kind of flowers or cake I might want. I didn't keep a binder like Monica Geller's. I didn't care much at all about the wedding day. I just wanted to be married.

Well, I got married. And 5 years later, I got divorced. That was an outcome I'd never thought possible.

So now, I'm single again. And people will ask from time to time if I'm dating, or if I've thought about getting remarried, and so on. And while I'm not as opposed to the idea of remarriage someday as I am to the idea of having kids someday...I really don't desire it. If I never date or marry again, I can picture myself being quite happy with that.

I've gotten to a place where I love my solitude. 20 minutes in Walmart and I am just itching to be away from people. Granted, Walmart shoppers are a particularly obnoxious and unaware bunch. But when I unload my cart and sit down in my car, I turn off the radio (if it was on...I often prefer to drive in silence anyway), I turn off the vents, and I just bask in the silence for a few moments before I back out of my parking space.

On one such occasion, it struck me. I really love being single. Not just tolerate it, or have found peace with it. I prefer it. And that's not just because my marriage was less than ideal. It's because I am so autonomous. Deciding when to eat dinner and what to cook is all up to me. What food am I in the mood for? The fact that it is invariably some type of carb-on-carb meal doesn't have to bother anyone else. Because no one else is eating it. And I can be as anal as I want about how my house is organized. (Boy, am I ever anal.) I can decorate the way I want to decorate. I can spend my money the way I want to spend it. It's all up to me. Sure, Peanut puts in her say, but at the end of the day, I don't have to consider how anyone else would like my stuff. And I love it.

As I sat in my car in the Walmart parking lot in utter silence, realizing I love being single, I realized that perhaps...despite all my years of searching for my soul mate...I was actually wired to be single. Because I don't feel lonely. I don't wish I had a man to spend my evenings with. I love my life just the way it is.

There's this idea that if you're single, there's either something wrong with you or you're to be pitied. One Bachelor contest was mocked for being 31 and still single. What was wrong with her that she wasn't married yet by 31, said her competitor. As if being married, or at least in a serious relationship, is a better, more desirable life. And maybe it is for some. But for me...I really don't feel I'm to be pitied. Life is great!

Waiting

I had this thought today about waiting. I've blogged before about how waiting seems so hard because sometimes, you don't even know what you're waiting for. Romans 5 says if we hope for what we don't yet have, we wait for it patiently. But what about when we're not sure our hopes are even what we'll end up getting? It's hard to wait patiently when we're not even sure all that patience will yield what we want.

But my thought today was about dessert. Because, well, I think about dessert a lot anyway. I was thinking about how when I was a kid, every night for dessert we got a bowl of ice cream and a cookie. And through my green beans, I had to exercise a lot of patience as I waited for that yummy dessert.

But what if one night, my parents had an even yummier surprise dessert? What if they had ice cream cake (with the chocolate crumblies), or double chocolate Dunkin Donuts, or a trip to an ice cream parlor? I'd be waiting for my bowl of ice cream and cookie and never get it...but only because I'm getting something far better!

When we don't get what we want, it's because God has something better in store. I've come to the realization that there are things I was waiting for that are pretty much not going to happen. But all that means is that I'm going to the ice cream parlor! What I thought was going to be an awesome thing probably won't happen...but whatever God will do in my life will be vastly greater.

And that's why I can wait patiently and hopefully.

Divorce Support Group

Faith Church in Loveland is having a 13-week divorce support group on Sundays at 9:00 am, in the "Daniel" classroom. This group is open to any adult experiencing separation or divorce, or in the aftermath of divorce. We'll explore topics of loss and grief in order to find emotional healing through this difficult time of life.

The group will have a Christian, biblical focus, but is open to people of any faith. We will be using "The Transcending Divorce Journal" as our guide, along with Bible passages that complement the topics. This is a great divorce care group for people in the Loveland, Fort Collins, Greeley, and surrounding areas.

Sunday School classes for kids occur at the same time for those needing childcare.

The class will run January 20-April 28, 2013. We will NOT be meeting on February 17 or Easter Sunday, March 31. Comment below if you have any questions.

Planning a New Year

I entered 2012 full of hope and plans for what the year would hold for me. Dan had just moved out and I was optimistic about what my future would hold. And I had very specific plans in mind for my year.

Well, 2012 certainly did not disappoint in terms of my hopefulness and optimism, at least on a personal level. While the year was terrible for many friends who lost loved ones, and for my state as we faced numerous wildfires and the Aurora movie theater shooting, for me it was probably the best year of my life to date.

But the specific plans I had didn't come to pass the way I'd anticipated. I was so confident that these things would be a part of my 2012, when in fact God was ready to bless me in so many other ways.

2012 was a year of abundance. Tremendous healing and growth. Unparalleled closeness to God. A promotion. A facelift for my home. God's calling to new ministry areas. Looking back on the year, there's nothing in my life I'd change.

I enter 2013 a totally different person than I was a year ago. I'm so much more aware of who I am. I'm so much more aware of how to capitalize on my strengths and cope with my weaknesses. I've found the healing I was so hopeful 2012 would bring, and now I look forward with eager expectation to see what God will do with my repaired heart.

But unlike last year, I don't go in with specific plans. This year, my resolution is to simply wait and see what God is going to do—to take it as it comes whether or not I like it at the time. My resolution is to stop banking on my plans for my life—to not even make those plans. I trust his plans, and I know that all my planning doesn't amount to much anyway.

Over the summer God gave me these words: "Trust me" and "just wait." I want these words to be the theme of 2013. I want to trust God, rather than my own plans, and just wait to see what awesome things he'll do through me and with me.