on being simple...

For some, 2016 was an absolutely terrible year while for others, it was the greatest year of their lives. For me, 2016 wasn't the best and it wasn't the worst, it was kind of a filler year. But even filler years are used by God, in His goodness and sovereignty. I was involved in two car accidents, encountered the most sickness I have ever had in one year, went on my first date, travelled to Ecuador to visit one of my best friends, was the Maid of Honor for another one of my best friends, went through a small heartache and the loss of wants, and turned 27. It was definitely a weird year, but weird years are not wasted years, something I need to remember always. I praise God or the weird years, because He is faithful still to show up and lead us and love us through them. 

This past year I focused on the idea of cultivating, growing in my knowledge and experience of Christ. Looking back, this year was truly tilled and sifted by the Lord. In the beginning of the year, He wooed me with grape juice and crackers and gave me people to champion. The Lord taught me about His timing and and the contentment found in waiting; He taught me hope and grace. My heart learned the importance of prayer (REAL prayer) and about security and fear and redemption. In the Spring, I learned about patience and perseverance, about guards and walls. In the Fall, He taught me the true meaning of the Sabbath and that He is the standard of sweetness in life. I learned about the importance of community and made a Christmas card.

Looking forward, I am excited and expectant for what the Lord has laid on my heart. This year, Psalm 23 will be my anthem. For years I've been numb to this passage, but this year it will fall fresh and be manna to my weary heart; 2017 will be the year of simplicity, of bare bones (but not dry bones). It will be a year marked by softness and intentionality and quiet. And friends, simple does not mean easy. The more I dwell on this word, the more I realize how hard it will be. Simple means action. It means actively cutting out the extravagant and the unnecessary. Simple means being intentional. And, simple is not synonymous with boring (the hardest thing for my heart to understand). Life can be simple and quiet and FUN still. 
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Simple: not ornate or luxurious; modest; not complicated 

or complex; mere; bare; quiet.

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I want this year to be the year that I live with less. I want to live under my means. I want to eliminate debt from my life. I don't have much, but I still have it, and I am tired of budgeting around it. In order to kick this debt to the curb, it means I have to be very intentional with my "yes" and my "no". It means that I will be saying no to unnecessary Starbucks lattes, to the Target dollar section, to the cute dress that I "need", and to taking the long way home from church. And it's not just about money, it's about saying no to good things to make way for the great things. The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want... If 2017 is about living simply, then maybe 2018 can be about living generously. Not just in finances, but in time, in resources, in prayer, in love. 

My prayer is that God would give me a love and a contentment that I have never known before; I want to live simply, with Jesus and with people. I want to see the beauty in the small and the quiet, to live in the moments that God graces me with. Simple, quiet, stable.

Cheers to 2017, friends!
What are you focusing on this year?

a coffee date...

If we were on a coffee date, it would be late morning and we would order something festive and delicious because it's a sin not to this time of year.

If we were on a coffee date, I'd give you a Christmas card. This is the very first year that I created a Christmas card (more on that later!) and I am pretty excited about them. It's so fun and I am questioning why I didn't start this sooner.

If we were on a coffee date, we would talk about Christmas. It's a season of mixed emotion, a two-sided coin for so many; one side is incredible hope, the other side is unimaginable pain. We would talk about our sides. 

If we were on a coffee date, we would talk about how 2016 flew by! I would ask you about your plans for the new year. Did you make resolutions? Did you pray over a word?  I would  also ask you what you have planned for the holidays. I have two weeks off and I plan to spend as much time with as many people and reading as many books and eating at as many fun places as I can! Tell me what you have in the works.

If we were on a coffee date, we would create space for transparency and vulnerability. We need more of that in our lives, don't you think?

If we were on a coffee date, I would tell you about the new book that I just ordered. 

If we were on a coffee date, we would chat about "Gilmore Girls" and "Fuller House" and "This Is Us" because really, how could we not. 

If we were on a coffee date, we would talk about Advent. What are your thoughts on this season? Are you reading any books or devotionals as a guide?

If we were on a coffee date, what would you want to chat about?

the wheels on the bus...

"Are you awake?"

I am not the best at asking for help. I would almost rather spend an extra hour doing something in my own power rather than asking for help from others. Call it independence, call it fortitude, call it something frilly and pretty and noble, but I know what to call it... pride.

This week my car has been in the shop for repairs, and will continue to be there for probably another three. Inconvenient, but not the worst thing in the world. So for a week I have been taking the bus to and from work and asking all my friends for rides to events, to church, to the grocery store. It's definitely humbling to be so dependent on others. 

Yesterday was just like any other day. I stood at the bus stop. I waited for the bus. I chatted with another woman at the stop and then we got on. I sat and prepared for the seven minute ride. Then, we switched to the left lane. NOT NORMAL. Then, we switched over to the left turn lane. SO NOT NORMAL. My bus ride is literally a straight three miles on the same familiar street. I started to panic. I pressed the little button for a stop request. We turned on to the next street. The bus stopped and I walked off, completely bewildered. HOW COULD I HAVE GOTTEN ON THE WRONG BUS? I walked to the stoplight and immediately called a friend. She happened to join a 6am yoga class this week, so I knew she would be awake. I walked across the street to the local Starbucks, texting frantically. She was quick to respond and even quicker to drive over. 
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"...sharing life with people means humility..."

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She pulled in to the Starbucks, I jumped in her car, covered my face, and laughed. Friends, sharing life with people means humility. It means calling them at 7:30am asking them to pick you up at a local Starbucks because somehow you took the wrong bus and have no idea how to get to work on time. And can I just tell you what my friend said when I told her that I owe her a cup of coffee?

"You don't owe me, this is what friends are for."

My prideful, stupid heart needed to be reminded that this is why we are never meant to do life alone. We need people, we need Jesus, we need to be dependent on others (ultimately Jesus) outside of ourselves. 

Humility. Community. Grace. May we all continue to learn the gift of each.

a list of thanks...

I am thankful for the many cups of warm, sweet coffee shared amongst friends.

I am thankful for the copious amounts of sunflowers that have graced my life this year.

I am thankful for pie, for cherry and caramel banana and apple and pumpkin.

I am thankful for the provision and faithfulness of the Father through the many small and big trials of this year.

I am thankful for my church family, for their love and protection and acceptance.

I am thankful for the ministry that I am allowed to take part in every single day.

I am thankful for the healing balm that worship music has been in my life this year.

I am thankful for where my passport has taken me this year.

I am thankful for the ability to walk and run and see and hear.

I am thankful for the beauty of laughter.

I am thankful for handwritten cards and words.

I am thankful for dancing, the kind that without your shoes on.

I am thankful for the yeses and the no's of this year.

I am thankful for Jesus.

I am thankful for another year.
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"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and in everything GIVE THANKS, 

for this is God's will for you…" - 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18

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Happy Thanksgiving, friends!
What are you thankful for?

on guards and walls...

Hi, my name is Kristi, and I am a Feeler.

It's hard living life as a Feeler. Being a Feeler means I filter life through my heart, not my head. Being a Feeler means I bear my burdens and the burdens of others in a very serious way. Being a Feeler means I am quick to trust and quick to love; it means discernment and gut instinct over fact and formula. I tend to love people and things when love doesn't make logical sense. My heart carries a lot within it, and by a lot I mean A FREAKING LOT. I like this about myself, I truly do, but sometimes, having a big heart means you need to install big boundaries. Because when you wear your heart on your sleeve, when you love everyone and everything with all you have, you are exposed to a serious amount of pain, rejection, and false hope.
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"...sometimes, having a big heart means you need to install big boundaries..."

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Recently, I can feel myself beginning to install walls around my heart; big, hefty, Home Depot-type walls. The walls are being laid brick by brick, sort of haphazardly and unintentionally. There is no rhyme or reason, there is just construction. Where once there was liberty to hope, there is the beginnings of a hedge. 

The Bible speaks of the heart as both a wellspring and as wicked. In Proverbs 4:23 we are warned to guard our hearts and in Jeremiah 17:9 we are told that we aren't to trust it. A wellspring bent towards wickedness, that's our heart. Wellsprings and wickedness and walls... What do we do with all of that? (Seriously, asking for a friend myself.)

In an effort to try and understand my own heart and my own hopes, I am resting in a place that says guards are healthy and needed. Guards are healthy, walls are not. Guards are meant to keep something safe while walls are meant to close off. A guard allows my heart to be protected, a wall confines my heart to be hidden. In my plight to keep myself safe, sometimes I end up closing myself off completely, and that is not a tendency that I want to cultivate. 

We all want to be safe. We all want to be protected from pain, from embarrassment, from shame, from false hope. Friends, there is nothing worse than a false hope, of this I am absolutely sure. And this is why I want the walls... I want the walls because earthly love does fail. Earthly love disappoints and expects too much, it has too much potential for pain.  But, in the fear of false hope, we cannot lose all hope. While I was listening to the words of Ellie Holcombs "Love Never Fails", my prayer echos her words: "Oh Lord, help me to live like love never fails..."
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"...in the fear of false hope, we cannot lose all hope..."

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I want to live like love never fails, because real love is unfailing. I want to live like love never fails, because love itself offers as a wall of protection. I want to live like love never fails, because I don't want to live like love fails. When we live like love never fails, we love without fear and without expectation and without walls. 

His hope is secure and His love is unfailing, I am praying my heart finds solace and comfort in that place, and that I allow His secure hope and unfailing love to act as guards, protecting me and softening me from the walls I continue to build.

on the standard of sweetness...

"So I have come down to deliver them from the power of the Egyptians, 
and to bring them up from that land to a good and spacious land, 
to a land flowing with milk and honey..." 

- Exodus 3:8

The Old Testament is NOT the place most Christians gravitate toward. We don't really think it's beautiful; it's hard to read, there are a lot of battles and laws and lineage and Jesus hasn't physically shown up yet. The Old Testament is not full of warm, fuzzy feelings. It is not going to give you a big, theological hug. 

In college, I had a professor who instilled within me a love for the Old Testament; for the history, the wrath, the goodness, the story. This is the greatest lesson and gift that I was given as a theology student. He allowed me to see that the Old Testament is absolutely needed and beautiful; because without the wrath, there is no need for love, and without the love, there would be no wrath. We miss that, us Christians, and we miss it hard. This summer I have journeyed through the pages of the Old Testament with a brilliant group of women. Their love for God and His Word completely encourage me. We just finished Genesis not too long ago. We wrestled with the text, asked questions, and began to hide the stories in our hearts. 

We are currently finishing Exodus, the culmination of slavery and freedom. All throughout Exodus, we see the brokenness of slavery and the beauty of the promise of freedom. These pages are meaty and hearty and full of symbolism and story. We do not just read about the chains, but feel the heaviness of the bondage, the deep anticipation and longing to be set free.

The thing that I have been clinging to is the sweetness of the Lord; Yahweh, this great and powerful and wrathful God also establishes Himself as the standard of sweetness. We see this as He provides the way to the land of flowing milk and honey, as He turns the bitter water to sweet water, as He writes the story of redemption in the midst of the wilderness. Honey, thick and gooey and sticky and sweet, a pure reflection of tangible grace.
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"...this great and powerful and wrathful God 
also establishes Himself as the standard of sweetness…"

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The land of flowing milk and honey is referenced four times throughout Exodus. Yahweh reminds them that there hope is coming, that although now they experience the dry and weary land, they will experience a land in the future that is abundant in all good things. Manna is sent from Heaven and, we are told in Exodus 16:5, that it tastes much like the sweetness of honey. Another taste of what is ahead of us; our sweet God is faithful to remind us of what is coming, that we should measure our experiences from the standard of His provision.

And I don't know about you, but I really need to lean in to that space. I need to be washed by the sweetness, to let God drench me with the thick and gooey truth of His goodness. I want my heart to trade in its bitter places for the sweetness of His constant provision and faithfulness. He leads us from our bondage into His blessing, from slavery into sweetness. And you know, sometimes we can't feel it or taste it or see it, but it is coming. The brokenness and bitterness and bondage now will allow us to taste and see that the Lord is sweeter than we could have ever imaged. 

a coffee date...

If we were on a coffee date, there would be tasty drinks and chocolate chip cookies crumbs all over the table. We would about how it is already August and lament over how fast everything goes.

If we were on a coffee date, we would talk about the balance of health and identity in Christ. I think that this is a hard line to walk, whether you are male or female. 

If we were on a coffee date, there would be lots of talk about my high school people (but what's new?).

If we were on a coffee date, we would talk about how I am an MAID OF HONOR. I mean, this is going to be so much fun. Am I going to freak out over everything being absolutely perfect? Yes. But, I am going to kill this MOH business because I have Pinterest, coffee, Jesus, and friends. 

If we were on a coffee date, I would tell you that I am slightly obsessed with James Taylor McCoy from "The Bachelorette". He has completely stolen my little heart (or at least, the part that can be stolen for a reality TV star!) and I may or may not have a face-swapped photo with him on my phone. 

If we were on a coffee date, we would talk about Alton Sterling, Philandro Castille, and the police officers. We would talk about how our hearts can be big enough to pray for them all because these losses are all important, completely devastating, and deeply felt. 

If we were on a coffee date, I would tell you that this week I needed to be told that my desire for marriage is not trivial or stupid, but that it is actually placed in my heart by a God who sees. We would talk about how there is no formula for anything. We would talk about how men and women are fundamentally different, but God makes it work, somehow. 

If we were on a coffee date, you would tell me what you are reading, what God is teaching you, how you are trusting Him right now. We would probably exchange crazy stories about a sneaky Jesus who always answers prayers in ways that we don't expect.

If we were on a coffee date, you might ask me about my family and I would tell you my story and how sometimes I feel like Lot's Wife, tempted to look back at things that I think I need, love, am obligated to. We would also talk about Rachel and Leah and Dinah and pretty much all the women of the Old Testament.

If we were on a coffee date, we would talk about how busy these next five months are going to be, August in particular. 

If we were on a coffee date, what would you tell me about your world right now?

on prayer and feeling forgotten...

Ten minutes.
I sat there for ten minutes, waiting for God to speak. 
It took me ten whole minutes to ask myself what the heck am I doing?

For years, I have been praying the same prayers.  I pray the same prayers because I have not been given an answer, but mostly because I feel the need to remind Him of me. Most of my prayer time is spent trying to remind a God who never forgets. I pray the same things and have the same conversations with Him because I feel like He hasn't heard me. 
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Most of my prayer time is spent trying to remind a God who never forgets...

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So I sat there. I prayed. I cried a little bit. I punched my pillows. I opened my Bible. I shut it. I journaled. I poured myself out. And then I sat there some more. I told Him that I was listening, that I was ready for the answer. I sat in the quiet warmth of my blankets, watching the sun through my window panels, and waited. And after ten minutes, I heard nothing. I heard nothing, I felt nothing. Nothing. And then, I realized, maybe I don't know how to do this. Maybe I don't know how to listen for God. 

But, what does it look like to listen to God? Does it look like sitting in your bed for ten minutes? Or spending a three day retreat up in the mountains? Or having a sudden realization in the middle of your work day? In that moment, I was listening, really listening, and He gave me nothing. No response. Which then makes me feel like He never even heard my heart in the first place. And friends, I expect the "no" always. My heart is familiar with His "no". My heart is familiar with His "yes", of course, but the "no" is much more obvious to my soul. I haven't received that yet. I haven't received the "no". And this whole thing, these ten minutes, led me to the bigger question… When exactly does He speak? When exactly will He answer? Has He forgotten me?

This week I began a small discipleship group with a handful of women at my church. We are all different, so we approach God differently. Monday night, I told them this, that I was feeling unheard, unseen, forgotten, that I have been praying the same general prayer for ten years, and same specific prayer for two years. It was scary to admit, even to some of my close, kindred people, that I felt these things. But, like true sisters, they reminded me that God is a God who sees, who hears, who knows, who remembers. I was reminded that He sings over His children, that He is constantly aware, that He is working all things for His good, that He knows and sees and remembers His children.
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God is always tending to our lives...

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Wherever you are, and wherever I am, today and every day, we can rest assured that despite our ramblings and our mess, God hasn't forgotten us. And this is faith, trusting that God hears and sees and is present and active. His vantage point is greater, and I have to trust that. God is always tending to our lives, always listening, always aware. He hasn't forgotten your 2AM prayers, the ones about wanting a baby or a husband or a job or a healing to take place; He is there when we are on our knees, when we are at end of ourselves, when we are hurting and weary and completely at a loss when it comes to all the things. He hasn't forgotten, that is just not who He is. He is a God of presence and of the present, amen?

on wounds and redemption...

Somewhere down the line, you have been wounded. You have a terrible father or had a terrible relationship; you experienced death of a loved one or of a dream. Your heart took a pretty big beating, with one too many punches, and it ended up in a really scary, broken, bruised place. 

We all have it, the wound. I know what mine is as I write this, you know what yours is as you read these words. Wounds always leave scars. My body is host to many, both physically and emotionally, and I am sure They say that the ugliest scars have the best stories, which can be true, but sometimes the ugliest scars have the simplest stories. Simple, common experiences that are very heavy and painful, because simple does not always means easy. Simplicity can still have a profound impact. 

"I didn't get the job..." Simple, but great.
"She cheated on me..." Simple, but great.
"My parents divorced..." Simple, but great.
"My best friend passed away..." Simple, but great.
"He told me he never really loved me..." Simple, but great.

These experiences lead us to a re-wiring. It leads us to believe lies as a coping mechanism. Suddenly, everything was different... The things you believed about yourself, about people, and maybe even about God completely changed. The wounds begin to whisper into your life, subtly gaining traction, becoming louder and louder. Now, your filter is a little bit skewed and you can't really discern the difference between a lie and a truth. We get confused about who we are and what makes us; we begin to live out of self-given titles and insecurities. We begin to believe that we are not worthy, we are not impressive, we are not strong, we are not beautiful, we are not accepted, we are not wanted. I understand this grey area. Too often, I live out of this place. And our culture does not help us out with this, which is why we MUST lean into the grace of God and the identity given to us as His children. 

Scars are not pretty. They expose the wound that once was, that thing that led to excruciating pain, bleeding, possible stitches, maybe even an actual surgery. They remind us of the fear, the turmoil, the pain. Scars will always be there, but we can choose to see them as evidence of brokenness or evidence of healing. 
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Scars will always be there, but we can choose to 

see them as evidence of brokenness or evidence of healing. 

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And what about healing? Healing takes time, yes, and a huge dose of the Holy Spirit. Healing looks different for everyone. Your healing might look like a night out with your crew, complete with some seriously great pizza, car-dancing, and a Redbox. Your healing might look like sitting in a counselors office every Monday at 5:30PM for two years. Your healing might look like a creating a blog or reading a book or having a coffee date with a mentor. Healing takes time, and only you know how much you will need. Don't rush it, but do be open to it.

Do not let your wounds define you. Do not believe the lies that the wounds will tell you. Do not be afraid to invite people into those wounds. YES THIS IS SCARY. I understand that this is uncomfortable and opens a door for potentially even more damage BUT, this also opens the door for redemption. 

I am thankful for people in my community who have redeemed my wounds, who have replaced my broken images with ones full of love, grace, and truth. I can only pray that I am that for others; that I can be a safe, redemptive place. Maybe I will be the one to redeem someones view of friendship, of a Christian, or of a woman in general. 

We are all wounded, we are all limping away from the process, seeking healing and redemption for the broken, beat up things. May we see our wounds be a part of the story, but not the story. 

So buckle down, choose to believe truth, and dive into the thing that scares you and requires a little bit of risk, because that is the evidence of healing. 

a coffee date...

If we were on a coffee date, I would be drinking iced coffee with coconut milk and agave. We would sit at a hole in the wall coffee shop around the corner from my apartment that has string lights and chalkboard signs and the cutest everything.

If we were on a coffee date, I would tell you about my car accident.

If we were on a coffee date, maybe we would talk about my Whole 25 (not 30, oops) journey and how I am actually teaching my body to love running. This is weird, like, I actually look forward to putting on my workout things, heading to the orange groves, and pushing myself to run. My body is starting to crave this and it is kind of awesome.

If we were on a coffee date, you would tell me about your marriage, your children, your plans for the summer, your heart and where it's at with the Lord right now.

If we were on a coffee date, I would tell you about how God is faithful to keep cultivating things in my life. My personal theme this year has turned into a sort of "fruit of the Spirit" tilling, and I really like being aware of that work. 

If we were on a coffee date, we would talk about writing and influence and about your voice, my voice. 

If we were on a coffee date, we would talk about the safety and protection of others. We would talk about how we need to love our people, protect our people, and never apologize for it.

If we were on a coffee date, I would tell you that I knocked a few books off of my reading list, but have so many more to go! I also keep adding to the list, so, cheers to that. (Currently, Wild and Free is in my purse!)

If we were on a coffee date, we would talk about the women in your life. The young ones, older ones, married ones, single ones, hard-to-love ones, generous ones, life-giving ones. 

If we were on a coffee date, I might introduce you to The Southern Shirt Company. 

If we were on a coffee date, we would walk away feeling refreshed, thankful for each other and for a good, good Father.

If we were on a coffee date, what would you need to talk about today?

on impatience and perseverance...

One thing that I have learned to be true about Jesus? He is not subtle. When Jesus wants you to do something or learn something, you know. And lately, I know.

At the beginning of this month, I read Annie Downs new book, "Looking for Lovely". I may or may not have finished it in two days and everyone needs it in their personal library. Please go to your local bookstore and pick up a copy right now. She speaks A LOT into the idea of what perseverance looks like in her life, emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually. She even got a tattoo (which is not happening for me because I am indecisive and hate all kinds of pain). 

This year, I studied through Acts with a group of women at my church. Paul and the early church knew what it meant to persevere in every sense of the word. 

Twenty one days ago, I started Whole 30 and running (again), which, enough said.

For the next few months, my church is making our way through 1 & 2 Thessalonians. This past Sunday, we were encouraged in the way of perseverance. 

Are all these things a coincidence? Absolutely not. Jesus is purposeful and intentional and answering big heart prayers. My theme this year is cultivate, and He is doing just that, building parts of my faith that I didn't really know existed, strengthening parts of it that already do. Perseverance seems grueling and exhausting; the connotation seems negative. We tell people to persevere when they are weak and hurt and amidst a trial, but what about persevering through normal things? Like maybe young motherhood, singleness, a mediocre job, financial problems, the last semester of high school, a transition in ministry, or cleaning your house after a long day of work? Is perseverance only reserved for the hard seasons in life? 

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...underneath the normal is the hum of God doing the unseen, 
and to see that, we must keep going.

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Right now, my life is not hard. My money is spent on normal adult things, morning coffee, and the occasional adventure or new dress. My time is spent with people I love and who make me laugh and remind me of truth. My relationship with God is good and abundant. And still, there is this quiet whisper underneath all of these studies and sermons and seasons... "Keep going." Sometimes we need that for our everyday, run-of-the-mill lives because underneath the normal is the hum of God doing the unseen, and to see that, we must keep going (because I don't know about you, but I want to see that stuff, the stuff that Jesus is working on underneath it all).

Perseverance is good and necessary regardless of your season or status because it's a means of sanctification. He uses it to make us more like Him, to mold us into strong, loving, gracious, truthful people. Because we don't know what the middle of the story holds and we don't know how the story finishes, but we do know the God who does. We persevere because we know Him. 
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The opposite of impatience is not patience, it is perseverance...

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And recently, my heart has been so impatient and full of questions and wonder. I sat in my chair a few weeks ago, letting the truth of Scripture wash over me, contemplating the lives of the early church, and it struck me... The opposite of patience is not impatience, it is perseverance. When I focus on being patient, I feel stuck and trapped, but when I focus on perseverance, I feel hopeful and aware of what God is teaching me. Patience is birthed out of places of frustration, perseverance is birthed out of places of focus. For me, patience is seen as the last straw, almost like a coping mechanism for when my personal desires are not met. Maybe the goal isn't to become patient, but to build up endurance, to persevere. 

God never calls us to begin, He calls us to finish and to finish well, and by His grace that is actually possible. Perseverance is good. For the student turning in their last assignment of the semester, perseverance is good. For the man who is waiting until marriage and fighting the temptation of pornography, perseverance is good. For the woman wanting a husband or babies or grand babies, perseverance is good. For the new mom who is washing milky bottles instead of washing her hair, perseverance is good. For the person who is interviewing for job after job and facing rejection, perseverance is good.

And so, we persevere, I persevere, because He who calls us is faithful and will give us the grace to endure and to finish. 

on grey areas & temper tantrums...

Confession: I have temper tantrums with Jesus.

I think that He is big enough to handle me, so it's what I do, I have it out with God. King David taught me this; when I look at the Psalms, this man was not afraid to tell God about his emotions, and because I serve that same God, I can do the same thing. But this time was a little different... I told Him I rejected His answer because His answer (to me) isn't an answer at all. I have never done that before. It was a little scary, honestly. But, being real with God is scary because it’s real in the most real way.

In one little big area of my life, God is giving me a lot of grey, a lot of maybe and wait, a lot of limbo. And by a lot, I mean A LOT. We don't like when the answers are grey, we want black and white, we want guidance and plans and clarity. For the past week or so, I have been asking God for clarity, to remove the grey and replace it with black. Or white. Or even red. Just something other than grey, please. The grey-maybe-wait-limbo area is NOT comfortable or fun and I have been asking God for a semblance, a shred, a little something. But He keeps giving me more grey. And then, God was faithful to bring me to this piece of writing by Emily Freeman a couple days ago and it completely wrecked me in the best possible way:

"...we’ve developed a bad habit of praying for clarity. We want to know the plan before we agree to it, but we’re beginning to understand that’s not really how You roll. You never promised clarity… You are not a God who offers clear steps. You invited Abraham outside and told him to look up at the stars... You gave Moses a vision of a Promised Land flowing with milk and honey... No, You never promised clarity. But You always gave a hopeful vision. And You always promise presence…."

I read this truth and God reminded me that hope is not contingent on clarity. We have hope regardless of sight or knowledge. We have hope because He is hope. My poor, fickle heart has been striving to find clarity and hope in earthly ways, and it is just plain exhausted. I am the modern day Sarai, wanting to take plans into her own hands.

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...hope is not contingent on clarity...

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I came to God with this exhausted heart, the one that is reeling from sin and strife. I felt like God saw my temper tantrum, met me in it, and said "Child, just because its grey, doesn't mean it's not being worked through or that I don’t have a plan, because I do." I don’t know about you, but I am desperate for those moments with Him, for Him to tell me that He is in control and that I am safe in that place.  

So, where do I go from here? I trust Him. I surrender. I pray. People, please know that it is so much easier said than done. I am not the person who writes those words flippantly; to trust God is hard and weighty and it is different for everyone. I will continue to trust and hope and pray, because He has a plan, and just because I don't know what the plan looks like doesn't mean that it is non-existent. #ouch

What are the hard things you are bringing before God?

Do you feel you can be honest with Him?

How do you remind yourself to hope?

*PS: Read Emily Freeman's full post here!*

on grace expectations...

Have you ever tried to eye-ball a recipe? I am always a little jealous of and perplexed by the men and women on cooking shows (and in life) who can just throw in all the things and out pops this amazing treat with perfectly iced frosting and lavender sprigs. Let me just tell you, measuring cups are a blessing and I use them often because if I did a whole "dash of this" and "a cup or so of that", my treat would end up being a HOT MESS. It's happened before. When I try to use my own measurements, I always fall short. (Except for when I make pancakes, because how could you ruin pancakes with a splash of vanilla and a dash of cinnamon?) I routinely give up on the homemade and take a trip to the local Vons for my favorite Susan Cookies. 
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When I try to use my own measurements, I always fall short...

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Do you ever feel like you just don't measure up? Maybe you feel you don't measure up to a standard that you have created or that the world created. Maybe you feel you don't measure up to a perceived ideal of someone else's expectations. Maybe you feel less-than in all of your ways. There are so many expectations; we live in the tension between too much and not enough. We wonder if we are too loud, quiet, strong, weak, fat, skinny, godly, funny, confident, pretty, and muscle-y. We wonder if we aren't loud, quiet, strong, weak, fat, skinny, godly, funny, confident, pretty, and muscle-y enough. We have these standards that have been imposed on us, expectations that we have cultivated in our own hearts, and we believe the lie that says if we just.

I am always scared that I am not what other people expect me to be; what if I am not funny enough? skinny enough? pretty enough? godly enough? involved enough? I am always scared that I am not what I expect me to be; what if I never get married? have children? write a book? attain my career goals? be a good Christian?

The shackles of expectation and the weight of failure are the heaviest burden, but Jesus says that we should come to Him, for His yoke is easy and His burden is light. Our standards create fear, His create comfort; there is grace in His standards, so how much more should we extend grace to ourselves? What standard are you measuring yourself by? What do you think you will gain? And what if you actually never gain it?

Now hear me when I say this... I am not saying give up, I am saying give grace. So maybe you can't fit into a size two pants, or lift 300 pounds at Crossfit, or have time to make organic baby food from your own garden. Grace says SO WHAT. Grace looks at your lists and standards and comparison and gives them the stink eye. Grace says the yoke is easy and the burden is light. Grace says give grace.

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Don't give up, give grace...

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Let's cling to grace expectations rather than great expectations. What if we cast away the shackles of standards and self-imposed measurements and exhibited grace not just to friends and family, but to ourselves? Because the yoke is easy and the burden is light... Because grace doesn't need to be deeper, it is deeper.

on grape juice & crackers...

There were more empty chairs than usual last night. Empty chairs in the church, full chairs in the slew of restaurants around town.

We took communion on Valentines Day. I don't think I have ever taken communion on Valentines Day before; we sang about God being the Good Father, how it's who He is and how we are loved by Him, and I couldn't help but dwell on the love, the cup, the bread, the secret things.

The cup and the bread, representing the blood and the body that was spilled and broken for me, for you, for humanity in its entirety. The death that brought hope; the death that ushered in salvation and life and faith. My heart pounded as this verse was read, reminding me of my sin, reminding me that I am not in control and that that I am wanting things that do not even belong to me.
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"The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that

 are revealed belong to us and to our children forever…" 

- Deuteronomy 29:29

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What are the secret things? What are the things that you think you have the right to know, but God reserves that right only for Himself? Maybe it's the secret of marriage, the secret of babies, the secret of salvation for family members, the secret of healing from sickness, the secret of writing a book or starting a non-profit. Our hearts yearn for knowledge, sometimes we seek the answers to the secret things more than our Savior. The cup, the blood, holds those secret things safely. The bread, the body, was broken in order to give life to those secret things. Just because there are things you haven't yet been given or things that have not yet been revealed to you, doesn't mean that they don't exist or that they are in an unsafe place. The secret things are safe, they are safe. 

I stared into the cup of grape juice and into my hand where the dried, broken piece of cracker lay, and I repented. I asked for forgiveness, not out of shame, but out of thankfulness. The Lord sees my heart, the wickedness and the wanting, but He gives me the cup and the bread, which is deeper still. 

The secret things are in the safest place, the hands of the Good, Good Father. Who am I to think my hands are safer than His? Or that my plans are wiser? My heart was overwhelmed with recognition of my sin; no, I was not knee-deep in the "big" sins, but I was knee-deep in the anxiety of trying to figure it all out, trying to be in control, and that may not be categorized as a "big" sin on the spectrum of American Christianity, but it felt just as heavy and weighty and big. 

So I sat there, asking for repentance, praying for forgiveness of these things. There is a freedom in prayer, because you are reminded of grace and the easy yoke. 

Forgive me for thinking that the secret things are my things.

Forgive me for wanting the secret things more than the Sacred Thing.

Forgive me for doubting that the secret things are safe in Your hands.

Forgive me for thinking that my ways are higher than your ways.

Forgive me for not trusting in Your sovereignty and goodness.

Forgive me for choosing future hopes over my present beauty.

Forgive me for trying to carry the sin that you have already buried in the grave.

Forgive me for not grieving my own sin.

Forgive me for seeking signs and wonders.

Forgive me in your mercy and goodness and grace.

I want to trust God with the secret things, with my sanctification, with the heaviness of my sin. I am walking away from taking a big drink from the cup and a hearty piece of cracker, knowing that God is in control and that He is big and mighty and capable.

Who needs chocolate and flowers when you have grape juice and crackers. 

on reading in 2016...

Carrying on with the idea of cultivating growth, this year I want to be very intentional about what I read. I love words, I love highlighting them and circling them and putting them on Post-Its throughout my common places (my bathroom mirror, my desktop computer at work, my planner) to remind me of ideas and truth. 

Over the past month, I have asked friends all over America what they have been reading and what I should be reading. I have also scoured Instagram accounts and blogs of my favorite authors to find out what they have been reading. Through all of this highly skilled and effective research, I have carefully crafted my list of books. 

I can't tell you how excited I am about these, because a good portion of them are new and written by some of my most favorite writers! 

(all images found via Amazon)

My goal is 12 books in 12 months, which I feel is very manageable. I am excited to have something to stretch me and grow me each month. And because I am Type A, I have planned out all of the books I plan to read throughout this year...

"Big Magic" by Elizabeth Gilbert

"A Praying Life" by Paul Miller

"Search for Significance" by McGee

"Looking for Lovely" by Annie Downs

"Wild and Free" by Jessica Connolly and Hayley Morgan

"Why Not Me?" by Mindy Kaling

"Love Does" by Bob Goff

"Daring Greatly" by Brene Brown

"He Speaks in the Silence" by Diane Comer

"A Prayer Journal" by Flannery O'Connor

"Emotionally Healthy Spiritually" by Peter Scazzero

"Present Over Perfect" by Shauna Niequist

There you have it, my list of reads for 2016! Honestly, I hope I read more than what's listed here, but I am trying to be realistic (again, I am great at starting, not finishing!).

So friends, what is on your list?

* I would like to add "The Power of Other" by Henry Cloud.

on soccer moms & championing your people...

Confession: I can't wait to be a soccer mom. Or a football mom. Or a baseball mom. Or a ballet mom. Basically, my future children have no choice, they will be in sports. 

The foam fingers, pizza parties, uniforms, practices, the wins and the losses... Give me all of it, please and thank you. (Except injuries, I could do without those. Dear Jesus, please protect my future babes from such evil.) 

You guys, cheering is my jam. My spiritual gift is encouragement (which sometimes translates into very long text messages, handwritten notes, cups of coffee, large posters and cardboard face cutouts). My personality oozes championing and cheering, just ask my high school girls. And really, anyone else in my life. When I am a fan, I am a fan. Championing and cheering on others is something our culture desperately needs. We often let fear and sadness reside in places that are meant for expectancy and joy. We should be willing to climb into those places with a shovel, digging out the fear and planting hope for our people. 

What if we decided to do this daily? What if we decided to grab a shovel and a foam finger and cheer people on in the everyday moments? I think that we need to channel the spirit of the soccer mom off the field; we need to champion our people, in the big things and the small things. There is so much power in letting people know they are being thought of, prayed for, championed. Sometimes, that's the only thing that keeps people going. During a season in my life, the only thing that carried me through was the excitement and the hopeful expectancy that my community had for me. I was used to rejection and denial, I couldn't see past that cycle, past my experiences, past those lies. My people came beside me, they prayed for me, loved me, and championed me in ways that I needed. Because of their excitement and hope, I was able to have excitement and hope. They grabbed their shovels and foam fingers and said, "Girl, God's got this, you've got this."

I want to stand on the sidelines of my people with a foam finger and tell them they can do the hard things; as they enter into battlefields and new seasons, I want to be the one who calls, who sends the text, who buys the cups of coffee, who sends the flowers. I want to grab the shovel and climb into those places with them now so that I can rejoice with them later when the trophy comes. 

If Scripture tells us that God is for us, why would we not model that to the people in our lives? Why would we not be a constant source of strength and courage for them, serving as a reminder of how much God is for them? Fill your people, breathe joy and life and hope and expectancy into them. Give them big pep-talks for the big things, and even the small things. Let them borrow your confidence, and most importantly, remind them of their confidence in God. Champion them. 

Who are you championing today?