Chance, or Something Else?

My husband recently wrote a piece entitled "Ten Quotes That Changed My Life."  I was intrigued by the thought as I read it, and my mind has been composing my own list ever since, making me realize my life has indeed been impacted and forever altered because of both written and spoken words.

Coupled with that realization was a recent walk through a bookstore and the face of a book I spotted with a title along the lines of Chance Encounters That Changed My Life.  I didn't pick up the book, but the title started another list of top tens in my mind.  When I pause and consider my life as a timeline, I can see the random encounters with a few people pop up in big, block letters.  It was those "chance" conversations that altered a course, changed my direction. 

The friend who casually invited me to a youth group where I met a youth pastor who invited me to a missions organization's rally where I heard about a group I would eventually travel with to a far-away nation where I would have my life forever marked with a passion for sharing the gospel on foreign soil.

The aquaintance who happened to tell me about a drama team that was auditioning for new members, which I attended and where I met my future husband.

The pastor I met at a friend's wedding rehearsal who would eventually become our pastor and take us under his wing, sending us out to the city in which we lived for fourteen years as leaders of a church plant.

The church meeting we attended at someone else's church and by someone else's suggestion where we happened to buy a book that changed the course of our ministry and gave it sustaining purpose.

Seemingly small conversations that led to big revelations.  Seemingly small events that led to huge changes.

Chance encounters that weren't by chance, after all, but rather part of the big picture we can not see as we live out the minute moments of our lives.

Those life-altering words could happen in the very next phone conversation.  The course of your future could change through one encounter on the very next trip to the grocery store. 

And I find myself wondering if there were others.  Other words, other encounters that I sailed right through, never picking up on their significance, never seeing the stamp of God on the ordinary that was meant to change my life.

So I kneel and pray that I don't miss them. 

I pray my ears will always hear His voice, speaking when I least expect it, "Pay attention to this, baby.  I'm sending these words, this encounter to you, and they come with a gift attached.  Don't miss out on the opening."

And I look forward to the next package, wrapped in the chance encounter.

How to Prepare Your Family for the New Year

"Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it."  - L.M. Montgomery

I grew up reading the Anne of Green Gables series, and even at a tender age, that line fascinated me.  Now that I'm an adult and understand what it means to regret mistakes on a grander scale than when I read those words at age eleven, I appreciate them even more.

And it's that same sentiment that has caused this week to have always been one of my very favorite weeks out of the year.  The last few days in December, when last year stretches behind with all of its memory, its triumphs, and yes, its mistakes, while next year stretches out ahead with all of its invitations and opportunities.  

A fresh start, with no mistakes in it.

I think of it like a giant etch-a-sketch just waiting to be shaken until all the lines disappear.  Some years, I'm pleased with what I've drawn over the last twelve months and just want to tweak a little here and there.  But, if I'm honest, most years I'm ready to hoist that thing over my head and chunk it as far as I can in order to hit the cosmic reset button.  

But, whichever it is, that's the magic of a new year.  Anything can happen.  This really can be the year that I make the changes.

And the crazy thing is, I do.  

Don't give up on me too fast here.  I don't mean to say I make ALL the changes.  I usually start out with a pretty good sized list and whittle it down from there.  And yes, that last sentence is code for saying I buy the gym membership and go four times the first week in January and then not again until October 2nd. But, it doesn't all go that way.  There's most often a few essential things that stick.  And that may not sound like much of an accomplishment, but over time, over the years, those few essentials add up to a lifetime of successively better choices.  They are the building blocks for self-improvement.  And when I apply them to my family, they become the foundation for healthy relationships and good memories.

So, go ahead.  Shake that etch a sketch until you forget that the skinny girl who works the front desk of the gym has no clue what your name is and thought you might be there to sell Girl Scout cookies when you walked in the day after Thanksgiving.  Shake it off.  And then start dialing with the knobs, a little here, and a little there.  And while you do it, see yourself a year from now, doing the same thing again.  Except next time, you'll be a little stronger and a little healthier and a little more joyful than you are right now.  Because you're growing.

Here's a few of the things I like to take stock of during this week.  I don't focus on all of them every year, I just choose the ones I think are most needed and concentrate on coming up with a plan that is attainable.  I also find that writing it down is important, to keep me motivated and to help me track my progress next year.

Self-care:  

• How am I doing at pastoring my own soul?  What do I need to do this year to improve that?  (Click to listen to a podcast where I speak about the practical ways you can do that,)
• How is my body?  What are the simple ways I can begin taking steps to make myself stronger and healthier?
• How is my relationship with God?  In what ways do I want it grow?  In what ways does He want it to grow?  

Family-care:

• How healthy are our relationships?  In what ways can I foster good relationships among us this year?  Do we need to make some different choices to get there?  (Click to read about instituting creative family nights!)
• How healthy are our finances?  Do we need to make some shifts or some sacrifices to get where we need to go with our money?
• How healthy are our conflict resolution skills?  What could we do to focus on solving problems with better communication and less stress?

And beyond:

• What am I most passionate about?  What am I going to do to see that area grow in my life?
• What is causing me the most anxiety?  What am I going to do to see that brought towards a place of peace?
• What can I give away this year?
• What is the most enjoyable thing I can imagine I could do this year?

Family Night

"Sometimes you have to go back to boot camp."  My friends words were spoken with a laugh, but the truth of them rang in my ears. 

She was speaking about her children.  About their tendency to drift from the family's boundaries and push the envelope.  About the need to come back to basics and remind children what we do, what we don't do, and why.  We love each other.  We speak kindly to each other.  We use our manners.  We don't eat things that come from our nose.  The real basics. 

That's boot camp.  And we just had one of those seasons in our house.

I felt it coming on for a while.  With a move to a new city this summer, there was just so much that was new and different that it was easy to lose sight of those basics.  Except my kids are old enough not to need the nose talk.  It was basics of a different sort, and it was probably more for the parents than the kids.

Because if you're not diligent, not careful to guard the state of your flock, you can look up and realize that all the things you put in place when your kids were young to help them grow spiritually and emotionally have slipped into the busyness of the details of life.  And the protective boundaries you had set to guard your family from the parasites that eat away at the health of your relationships have given way to too much technology, too much noise, and just too much.

So, it was time to go back to boot camp.  And for us, that meant reinstating family night.  A sacred weekly tradition we had held for many years, but had slowly let fade to monthly and then occasionally and then we can't remember when.

But, it's back, and it's back so good.  It's not fancy.  It's not complicated.  It's not overly spiritual.  It's just time together that is absolutely set in stone and doesn't get moved by anything on mom's schedule, dad's schedule, or the school's schedule.  Everyone in the house has been informed that this is going to happen, and anything that needs to be planned for in advance or changed or moved or deleted in order for it to happen, that better happen, too.

There may have been some expectation on the parents' end that this proclamation would be met with some resistance, but it wasn't.  We are three months in to family night boot camp and haven't missed a single week.  Every one of our teenagers have made the shift, and now Fridays may be my favorite day, but Tuesday is my favorite night.

Tuesday night is tacos around the table.  It's a new board game.  It's a walk to our favorite custard shop.  It's jammies and s'mores on the back patio.  It's watching a food network show while we eat frozen pizza.  It's a round of charades or hide and seek in the dark.  It's a bike ride. 

It's just time.  Whatever it takes to have time to look each other in the eye and laugh and remember why we are each other's best friends.

Three months in, and this is by far the best boot camp this family has ever had.  Especially since we haven't had a single nose discussion.

Next

My son is home from college on his fall break.  He brought a friend home with him who needed a place to stay, since he lives across the globe and can't fly back for the few short days of break in the school routine.  It's been good to have them here, sleeping until almost noon and eating all of our food.  Evidently it's really exhausting being a college freshman.


But, what I've loved most is listening to these guys talk and plan for the future.  Next semester's classes.  Next summer's mission trips.  What comes next, after college.


They're in such an exciting time in life.  The time where "next" is wide open and could contain anything.  Nothing is set in stone and nothing is impossible.  And yes, "next" is a little scary, too, since it's wide open and could contain anything.  But, judging from these men's faces, it's more exciting than scary.


And that's where I pause.  Because somewhere in life, excitement for next has a habit of turning into playing it safe.  And playing it safe makes a cozy nest of comfort that becomes hard to leave when it's time to climb the next mountain of next.  And if you choose not to climb the mountain, you become a settler in the village of almost and maybe later.  And if you stay too long in a village like that, you lose it all.  You lose all sense of zest and wonder over what's on the other side of the mountain.  You lose your joy for the journey itself.


If that's where you are right now, I wish I could box up that tangible sense of next that's been permeating my kitchen table between the hours of noon and midnight this last week.  I wish I could  wrap it, add a shiny gift tag, and ship it to you today.  But, that's the thing, isn't it?  Next can't come from someone else.  It can only come from the deep places.  The places that make you who you are.  The places you dream about and share only with those you feel safe.  The places you long for, but sometimes can't even find language to give them shape.


Yet, longings have a way of making themselves known, and so they come out in expressions of joy, bursts of happy that rise up when we see our feet leaving the village and heading toward the mountain trail.  The deep satisfaction that occurs when our lives intersect with purpose that is bigger than the running of errands and writing of checks.  


Frederick Buechner writes, "The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet." 


And in the very reading of those words, there is a stirring, isn't there?  A sense of beckoning to find the trail that leads over the mountain to the place of your gladness.  To the place where you can pioneer a new village, one that will be a refuge for the weary travelers who come behind you, filling their hunger with good things and helping them find their own deep gladness. 


A place where regret for the years of settling in the village fades away with one question.


What's next?

A Surprising Chapter

Two summers ago, our ten year old broke his arm after only a few short hours of arriving at summer camp.  It was a quick trip to the emergency room and then home for him.  While his friends continued on with a weekend of excitement and adventure, he spent the next couple of days with his arm in a sling, waiting for the swelling to go down enough for the bone doctor to put it in a cast.

He was a trooper.  Didn't complain much.  But, you could see the disappointment in his eyes for days. 

And now, two summers later, out of the blue, came a gift.

His dad was asked to be the camp pastor this year, which meant mom and dad would both be attending kids' camp.  But, the older brothers would be away on a hiking expedition. 

Which left one lone boy who needed a place to be.  He would get to come to kids' camp again, even though he is now in middle school and shouldn't have been able to attend.  When he heard he could stay in the cabin with his parents and still take part in all the exciting activities, his eyes shone.

"Mom," he said while we were packing.  "I think this is God's way of making that summer up to me.  An extra year at camp."

And of course it is.

For God is a God of second chances.  Of gifts and surprises.  Of redemption.

Watching my boy roam the campground last weekend was pure delight.  He sure knows how to enjoy a present. 

And now he also knows an important truth.  His story might have some disappointing chapters, but it's never over when the book is in his God's hands.  There is always a new page to turn.

New Life

Author's Note:  The last post, "A Mother's Prayer," chronicled the beginnings of a gift left on our front porch.  You can read it by clicking here.


When my daughter heard the good news that the four baby porch birds had hatched, she was immediately sad. 

"Oh no, that means they will grow up and fly away."  And this from a girl who doesn't read her mama's blog.

But, she gets it.  The wrenching of the heart that comes with letting go.

What she can't yet see is that the same growing up that takes a baby away from its nest is the same stretching that made her so confident she would navigate kids' camp just fine this year without a parent sponsor or her older brother going with her.  (She was very sad to learn her dad would be the camp speaker this year, as that meant the whole family is going after all!)

It's that same stretching that caused her to want to try a new dance class next semester, to expand her experiences. 

And it's that same stretching that means mom gets to be on the quiet side now when she picks out her own clothes for school, developing her own sense of style.

She can't see it now.  But, she will.

How do I know?  Because I have lived through enough "wrenching" seasons in life to know that on the other side, I have been transformed.  And passing through the cocoon never feels comfortable. 

It's tight.

It's dark. 

It's sometimes lonely.

But, on the other side, I can fly where before I could only walk.

Dear Seven Year Old Me

Twenty-nine years ago today, the seven year old version of me decided to become a follower of Jesus.  Compared to other childhood memories, I remember it quite clearly. 

I can picture myself in the Sunday School room of the church where my parents served on staff.  I can remember the teacher talking about the time she asked Jesus to be her Savior.  She went on to something else, but my mind didn't.  I could only hear those words "asked Jesus," over and over.

It was Wednesday of that same week, when the words were still resonating in my little girl heart, that I went to my mother and asked her to help me ask Jesus to be my Savior.  She was nervous, wanting to get it right.  She asked me if I could wait until Daddy got home.  But, I didn't want to wait, so we sat together and, in the space of one moment to the next, I passed the threshold into a new life.

Who could wait?  When your bridegroom is waiting for you with baited breath at the door, who wants to tell Him to wait?  When your new home is waiting for you in a glorious Kingdom, who wants to pass the mundane hours until Dad gets home?

And when I think about that girl, with a heart full of love for her Jesus, I feel so tender towards her.  She was young and innocent and full of trust.  She heard the Word, treasured it, believed it, and acted on it.

And she was changed.

No, she wasn't leaving behind a life of crime or drugs at the ripe old age of seven.  But, her change was still real.

She left darkness, and she took up residence in the light.

I can see her crawling into bed that night under her pink bedspread, whispering her prayers to her new Savior.  I can see her smile.  I can see her confidence that came from believing with her childlike faith that God is good and He loves her.

And if I, the twenty-nine years later version of me, could hold that girl in my arms on that day, I would rock her to sleep and tell her a few things. 

She doesn't need to know all the specifics.  They are better left to be discovered.  She doesn't need to know the names of the victories ahead, or the faces of the heartache that's coming. 

She just needs to know this:

Sweet girl, it won't always be easy, this road you have chosen.  There will be times when you will be asked to sacrifice and times you will need to go through the narrow gate, when the wider one seems so much more fun and convenient.  There will be times when people around you won't understand the decision you made or the decisions you will have to make to stay true to your first love.  There will be times when you feel like you can't see God and don't understand what He's doing.

But, little one, your faith is real.  It has changed you.  He has changed you.  And the best news of all, you will never, ever be alone again.  The one thing you've always feared---it can never happen, now.  No matter what, you will never be alone. 

The lover of your soul has joined His heart to yours now.  You have become one flesh with the One who died for you.  And He will never leave you or abandon you.

Instead, He will massage the wounds in your little heart until you no longer believe the lies that you are rejectable.  He will heal you with His love and unconditional acceptance.  He will transform you into what you have always desired to be.

So, sleep tight, little girl.  There are mountains ahead to be climbed, and views so glorious to behold, your dreams tonight can't compare.  There is a life to be lived that started today.  And it's a beautiful life.  A beautiful life joined to a beautiful God. 

The God who saves. 

The God who rescues. 

The God who delivers. 

The God who heals. 

The God who restores.

You can trust Him.


Author's Note:  If you are reading this today and are looking for what that seven year old girl found, you can meet Him---His healing is for you, too.  Click here to read more.  You don't even have to wait for your dad to get home.

Simplify

There is always something refreshing to me about the whiteness of January.  It's a blank calendar page waiting for my notes on a new year.  It's a soft shade of light streaming in my windows, highlighting my newly bare shelves after all the Christmas decorations have been put away.  It's a chance to start fresh and to simplify.

It somehow makes me think back to all the things that were on my Christmas list and wonder why I thought I needed them, especially when I remember the pastor I met from Africa who was praying for a way to feed his children twice a day instead of just once.

It causes me to look at my dayplanner and ponder what is a true need and what is just something that will take me away from my children, the question growing more urgent when I remember how much their faces had changed in the Christmas photos this year compared to last.

It gives me reason to consider my checkbook to discern what it is I have considered treasure, for where my money is, there my heart is also.

And the words of the old spiritual find their way to my lips....

Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
But give me Jesus.

Simple ways to simplify:

• clean out your closet (or your kids' closets),  fill up a box with donations, and take them to a shelter for battered women
• make a list of your weekly obligations, pray over them, and listen to see if the Lord wants you to make some changes
• cancel your cable subscription; pray and ask where the Lord wants you to spend that money instead
• schedule a day to fast; when you complete it, schedule another one
• set one time when you will check your social media sites, and resolve not to check them at any other time in the day
• read The Beautiful Outlaw, by John Eldredge, and remember why you fell in love with Jesus

Breath of Change

I love the God who creates the seasons.  The God whose breath blows the summer breeze upon my face as I lie on the shore of the lake with my family.  The God who stirs the autumn wind to send the colored leaves across my lawn.  The God who shakes the sky until the winter snowflakes fall thick and glorious on my daughter's eyelashes.  And the God who whispers to the earth to wake up from its slumber until the spring flowers poke their heads out of the ground.

He is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and yet He authors change so beautifully. 

And today, as I stand upon one year's closing credits and peek into next year's cover page, I am grateful again for the way He writes the seasons of my life.  On my own, I probably wouldn't choose for things to change.  I wouldn't want to leave the warm predictability of the present for the uncertainties of the unknown.  But, when He leads me there, I can welcome it.  Who else is for me, if not Him?  Who else can I trust, if not Him?

So, I step from one year into the next, my face lifted to the Heavens.  And I wait for the breath.

Ways to welcome the new year and its changes:

• Journal the biggest changes that occured in your life in the past year and give thanks.
• Read Isaiah 55 and pray about what God would like to speak to you through it.
• Sit down with the loved ones in your home and write 3-5 goals you have for your family in the new year.
• Make a list of financial goals with your spouse for the coming year.  See this article for some good ideas.
• Ask the Lord to lead you to a verse to define the next year of your life.  Write it down and put it in a place you will see it often.  Memorize it.  Pray over it.
• Buy a new devotional book and start it on the first day of your new year.
• Place an empty notebook beside your bed.  Begin every morning and end every day by asking the Lord if He has anything to tell you.  Write down what He says.

Failing Forward

“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”

Theadore Roosevelt

“Citizenship in a Republic,”
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910

I love this quote.  I love it because it's true.  I love it because it's bold.  I love it because it makes me feel better about the many failures in my life.

In thirty-five years of living, I've managed to make quite a few mistakes.  Small ones.  Big ones.  Massive ones.  I've made all kinds.

And while the addage is true that I am not the sum of my mistakes, it is also true that I am the sum of what I have learned from them.

For, over the course of this journey of my life, there has been someone who loves me walking beside me, holding my hand, whispering in my ear.  He is not repulsed by my failures.  I think He may actually have chuckled at a few of them.  He is not put off by my humanity, my weakness, or my shortcomings.  Rather, He is proud that I have lived life in such a manner as to take enough risks to have even made mistakes.  And He will deal with the rest, slowly honing the rugged into the beautiful, gently wooing the stubborn spots into His hands so He can shape them with His goodness.

The only way I can truly fail is to leave the path where He is and strike out on my own.  And I've learned enough through the course of my life to know I will never reach my destination without Him.  On my own, I can't even choose the right check-out lane at Wal-Mart.  How would I live apart from Him?

At the end of my years on this earth, if I have stayed beside Him, with my hand in His, then all my failures will have been turned to work for my good.  They can't help but do it because He makes all things new and all things beautiful.

Stand Firm

I held one of my sons as he wept over his sin this week.  His heart was grieved that he had grieved the heart of God. 

I understood.

And we talked about learning to stand against temptation and refusing to listen to the lies of the enemy.  We spoke of the temporary gain of sin that ultimately ends in loss.  We remembered that God has called us to holiness, because He is holy.

And then I gave him this encouragement....it will get worse before it gets better.

"The enemy thinks he has you now, thinks he knows that you will play into his hand.  He will come again, and soon, and he will whisper for you to agree with him and partner with him in the very act that has made you cry.  And you will need to fight to be free of him.  You will need to stand firm.  And when he comes again, you will need to stand firm again.  And again.  And again.  Until he knows you will not play by his rules.  And do you know what else you can do to beat him?  You can come to me, or to your Daddy, and tell us.  And we will pray with you.  We will pray together that you will be able to stand and fight and win."

Just today, it happened.  He told me immediately when he got in the car after school.  "I was tempted, Mom.  I stood firm, though."

And with that, his sword grew a little steadier in his hand.

"Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you (James 4:7).  Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective (James 5:16)."

Brokenness Transformed

As a life-long lover of Jesus, I've attended so many of them, yet they never fail to move me.  Last night was no different.  As each new believer went down into the baptism waters, the words were spoken over them, "Buried with Christ in death...and raised to walk in newness of life."

Every head lowered into the water, every head raised dripping newness.

The child baptized by his father, the teens baptized by their youth minister, the adult baptized by the pastor who spoke over her life, "The Lord is restoring to you the years the locust has eaten."

All changed.  All beautiful.  All new.  All celebrated.

And how much more does Heaven rejoice over the lives that have been redeemed, transformed?  How much more does God's heart leap for joy when the ugly, the broken, and the shameful things have been wiped away, leaving only His beauty?

Lord, give me your heart for the broken.  May I ache for them the way You do so that I never grow weary of sharing Your grace.  Remind me often of my own transformation and give me a passion to see others transformed.  May I never count anyone as unredeemable...and may my eyes be opened to what every broken life can be when it is raised to walk in newness of life. 

A New Year

new beginnings


fresh starts


blank slate


trackless snow


empty page


perfect crayons


clean oven


smooth sand


crisp sheets


morning mercies


reconciled checkbook


forgiveness