Resilience

I've fought with the wind
I've wrestled with the seas
I've been captured by the enemy
But always I've been freed

I've strayed from the path
I've gotten lost in the trees
I've fallen off the cliff
But there was water beneath

I've been hunted by the wolves
I've been taunted by the snake
I've been sat on by the elephant
But my heart they could not break

I've been in the fire
I've been in the pit
I've been in the ditch
But I did not quit

I've been defeated
I've not done well
I've lost
But I did not fail

I've fallen
I've been bruised
I've suffered
But I was not used

The wind and the fire
The animals and the trees
The fears and the worries
The bruises and the seas

Have all made me stronger
And resilient is a good thing to be
Cause when you bend, you don't break
And you learn to have sympathy

Before Bald Brunch

Today, in two and a half hours I'll be removing all my hair. I raised over 2,300 dollars for Childhood Cancer Research and I'm donating a ponytail for the making of a cancer patient's wig.

At brunch this morning, I sat alone, quietly and pensively in a little coffee shop cafe. I thought about the reality of how long it will be before my hair grows back. I thought about all the other ways I could have raised money for cancer research. I thought about how silly I'm going to look and feel. I began to even feel insecure about the insecurity that hasn't even arrived in me yet.

And for a moment all that mattered to me was myself, my hair, my selfish, and my identity as defined by others.

I sat there. And I prayed. I asked the Lord to show me my face and my heart through His eyes.

Luke 12:7

Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows.

He reminded me that he knows every detail of my being. Therefore, I should not fear. I am insanely valuable to him, with or without hair.

How the heart of a mother reflects the heart of the Father

Anyone who knows me, knows there's not a whole lot in life I dislike. I'm down with brussel sprouts, I don't have any hard feelings toward the Seahawks, and bring on the rain, or the snow...It'll just make my love of the Sun stronger.

People, I love. Places, I love. Food, I love. New experiences, I love. People's stories, I love. Giving gifts, I love. Making tea, I love. Listening to music, I love. So, you get the point...I love a lot of things. And I like even more. And well I dislike almost nothing...

Except planes.

I more than dislike them. I don't enjoy them. I don't feel safe in them. Frankly, I'm terrified of them.

Millions of people fly every day. I get it. More people die in car crashes, again I get it. Flying gets you there faster, still got it (even though I myself enjoy a good journey, no need to race).

I've done everything. I've taken medicine. I've been prayed over, prayed for. I've read techniques. I've talked to pilots. I've sat and done little plane watching.

I'm still afraid. And fear is a powerful thing.

And my fear is keeping me from experiencing some great things and great places with great people. It already has and it will continue to if I let it. But that's not the point of this blog post.

The point is that my mother, the most gracious and loving and kind woman I've ever known...offered to go with me.

Now this seems simple, but my trip is free...my mom would have to pay like 700 dollars to fly with  me.

But she didn't offer cause she cares about seeing San Diego. Not only would she have to get off work, but she would have to spend lots of money...and her time.

But she offered because her heart reflects the Father's. She offered because she doesn't want me to miss out on life. She offered because she knew the simple idea that she would be with me...could be enough. Could be a great comfort. Could allow me to feel free of fear.

I may not make this trip, but hopefully there will be more chances...and I will remember how my mom reminded me of the way Christ views me. He doesn't want me to fear. He doesn't want me to miss out on life. And He wants me to know that He is going with me...and He wants me to believe that enough to let it comfort me...

Baby Talk for Adults

Last week I took the journey down to Pelzer (ok, so it's a short journey that takes all of about 15 minutes---never correct me) to visit my friends Heather and Ryan and their almost two week old son. Let's get the real talk out of the way first, Baby James is mega cute, small, sweet and acted like a complete gentleman the whole time I was there. He is incredible. He is a little bundle of miracle joy love (and any other insanely magical happy words you can throw in there). So, I was thrilled to meet him, hold him, talk to him, and love on him. But I was also excited to have some baby talk with his parents. 

Ryan and Heather are two of the most gentle, loving people I ever met. They speak in love and truth. They speak delicately, but what they say has so much power. I really could make this whole entry about just them and their dynamics, character, and heart for the Lord. 

But...

I have a story/point here.

I was asking all the usual questions about parenting, labor, pregnancy, life with a baby...

And I asked Heather (and Ryan) what was something she/he learned about the Lord through the process of having Baby James. There was a moment of silence...and then Heather said one of the most beautiful things I've heard in a long time. 

She told me that when she was holding Baby James in her arms at the hospital she looked down at him and was overwhelmed with love for him, but also she was proud of him. She was genuinely proud of him and he hadn't yet done anything to earn it. She was proud of him because HE WAS HERS. That was her reason. And she said it reminded her that that's how the Lord views her. She doesn't have to do anything (no fancy circus tricks or life projects) or even try to earn the Lord's praise and love. He is just proud of her for being HIS. He is proud of all HIS children. 

I couldn't help but tear up a little. 

It wasn't laced with big words or fictitious elegance. It was just simple. It was and is TRUTH and that's what made it so incredibly beautiful. 

Baby James is an incredibly blessed little boy. Just like we are all blessed to have a Father who loves us...and is Proud of us...just because we are His.

Oz

So for some reason I thought I might need a project for the last year of my 20s. That project is a series of daily writings: poems, thoughts, and ramblings. One entry a day...all leading up to the big 3-0 at the end of 2014. I've been keeping all these thoughts in a journal. Most of them, not worth sharing.

Anyways, writer's block is bound to show up multiple days (or maybe all 365)...so today's poem was silly and well, probably a product of writer's block.

Jan 6, 2014
(inspired by the Wizard of Oz at the Peace Center)

We're not in Kansas anymore
More than tornadoes hide in the sky
Aunt Em and Uncle Henry got their own issues
And little Toto's about to die

The hay doesn't pay the bills or keep the power on
In fact, it barely fills the Scarecrow's body
Dorothy's out late drinking away her sorrows
And let's just say she gets a tad bit naughty

The Tin Man doesn't want a heart
He finds that emotions are quite the bother
And the Lion doesn't really need courage
Just like everyone else, He needs a father

The yellow brick road isn't paved in gold
The Wicked Witch of the West isn't all that bad
There's much of the story that's left untold
Because "Happily Ever After"makes a better fad