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Showing posts from 2015

Love like I'm not scared...

I was working at the church this morning with both boys.  They were running around and climbing on the chairs in the choir room, pretending to be planes and Angry Birds.  I don’t ask. I just let them run, climb and beg them to not scream louder than my Pandora playlist can play.  I was stocking, prepping for Sunday and praying over the service, for our ministers, for our team.

I got a text while stacking Dr. Pepper and water that wasn't the best of news.  I froze immediately in fear and despair.  My heart wailed.  God, I can’t handle more.  I just can’t.  I all but fell down on one of the floor speakers and buried my face and cried.  I thought the boys were oblivious until the squealing stopped and I heard a voice, “Mommy, why are you crying?” 
So, I lied.
“I’m not.  I’m just praying.”

Not entirely a lie. Sometimes tears are prayers all by themselves.  
I got up and pushed myself to refill both of the Keurig machines and prop up the bags of bagels.  Organized bags of chips as thou…

He Breaks Every Chain...

On the way home from preschool, Joel tells me about the video they watched of Jesus dying on the cross.  I tilted the rearview mirror to see his face, his eyes.  He was visibly upset, moved.  He kept saying, "But they took His body away!" and his voice snagged against the words.  "How could they take His body away?"  

How could they take Him?

It's the great goodbye.  When someone you love is gone, for what feels like, forever.  How can they be gone? How can this be the end?  How do we let this all go?  The memories flood and you sob under a hot steam of water in the shower.  How did you go from there to here?  How could I have forgotten to send that card, make that phone call?  And now the what if's and the should have's are small on the scale.  The loss itself outweighs it all.

How can they be taken away?

I thought of the concept of loss, of letting go, earlier in the day.  I stood at the edge of the pond behind my church, reflecting on my own baptism…

You Can Dance in a Hurricane

Parenting.  It's a perfect storm, yes?

It makes you feel foolish.  Helpless.  Successful.  Proud.  Wanting.  Found.  Lost.  Broken.  On the verge of giving up and entertaining the idea of more babies.  It's confusion and understanding all in the same breath.  It's too much space and not enough.  It's long nights and early morning and slides and swings.  Spills and blowouts, tears and blow-ups.  A leak in the dam; it all threatening to bust on through on your best day.  On your worst.  Celebrations.

Consequences.  And forgiveness.

My four-year-old (who will be a five-year-old tomorrow at exactly 4:55 a.m.) lied to my face yesterday.  Twice.  Blatantly and convincingly.  Why yes, of course he had finished every bite of that cubed ham.  We praised and freely gave the cookies.  Only when we went to clean him up after lunch did we discover the truth. Cubed ham was not in his belly, as he had claimed.  It was all pocketed in the bib he had been wearing to protect his good s…

Your Name is Power

I took the steps back over the ice carefully.  Nice and easy.  No sudden movements, no looking to the right or the left or even forward.  Just down.  The sun glared off of my driveway turned ice rink.  I had already gotten my annual falling on the ice move out of the way. No need for a repeat, thanks.  
I’m not a risk taker.  I’m just not.  I’ve never broken a bone, because you won’t see me climbing anything that high or running too fast or hurling myself off a bridge.  I’m not a daredevil.  I play it safe.  I don’t take huge chances.  
I don’t set myself up to get hurt.  Or to fail.
So, imagine how hard it is to want to be brave when you have very little to be brave through?  It’s not courage if you’re not scared, right?  How do you grow, how do you stretch, how do you flex the army inside your heart... if you never chance?  There’s wild and whimsical inside of us. I feel it strong, the mystery of the One greater than anyone, anything else... living in me.
A light inside a dark hous…

Grace That is Greater

I think about it as I sip my first perfectly good cup of decaf coffee (it pays to shop around).  My four year-old playing a musical app on my phone, a cat singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, the littlest still asleep, the husband still resting.  The moon out, since darkness.  It's early.
I think about the blessings.  I think about the estimated two inch incision in my chest and the ache of healing and I’m grateful for health.  No.  My life.  My very life.
Thankful for the kids who push me over the edge during long afternoons and who fill up my heart like no one else can.  The way their cheeks can still feel baby soft, even if it’s been years since they were teeny tiny in my hands.  The way Joel sleepily wakes up and says, “I was dreaming about you and then you are here!”  
I got busy.  We all got busy.  Between work and ministry and preschool and marriage and a home and building a future... it got scrambled.  Maybe the answer was a new calendar.  So I could plan better.  Stay o…

When Cancer Cures

I noticed it one day, reflected there for me in the mirror.  A dot.  A speckle.  Something.  I don’t know, but I just stared.  Had that always been there?  Had it always looked like that?  I called myself crazy and dressed and moved on.  
But it kept staring at me. A month, two, (or five) later.  Small but somehow mighty.  Changing.  I started feeling needles of anxiety and wondered, “What if?”  What if that was something that should be checked out?  What if it was... 
No.
So, I asked my husband.  And I had hoped, kind of hinged my expectations on a, “Yeah, that’s always been there, why?” kind of response.  The laid back, easy-going, calm kind of thing I’ve come to know, love (and appreciate) about my husband.  He looked close, long enough to make the fear flare and said, “Yeah. You need to get that checked out.”  
My face crumpled and I turned away fast to unload the dishwasher.  The worst filling my head.
Because... what if?
What if it was... cancer?  What if those years of tanning i…