Tanner's prompt for today is Anxiety.
I write about anxiety a lot. You guys know this. So instead of doing that, I'm going to write about the opposite of anxiety. According to Google, the opposite of anxiety is "calmness" or "serenity."
Calmness = the state or quality of being free from agitation or strong emotion.
Serenity = the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled.
I tend to associate calmness and serenity with places. The bluff at CUW. University Lutheran's sanctuary. My balcony. Melissa's living room. Lindsey's backyard. These are places where I feel no pressure to succeed, no fear of judgement, only the opportunity for peace and joy. I can go to these places, even in my mind if I can't be there in person, and feel okay.
Any of you have places like this?
Stay tuned for June 1st: Breathe.
Saturday, May 30, 2020
Thursday, May 28, 2020
Writing Prompt #12: Compassion
Tanner's prompt for today is Compassion.
I just finished a Bible study on Psalm 77, and oh my goodness, did it resonate with me. Just listen to the first three verses:
"I cry aloud to God,
aloud to God, and he will hear me.
In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;
my soul refuses to be comforted.
When I remember God, I moan;
when I meditate, my spirit faints."
The first nine verses of the Psalm expand on this theme. We don't know for sure what the Psalmist was going through, but it was clearly some level of excruciating spiritual anguish. In verse nine, he asks,
"Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?"
When I explain my depression, I often distinguish between what I know with my head and what I feel or believe in my heart. Reading this, my brain says, "Of course the answer to those questions is no. God would never do those things!"
But especially when I'm experiencing the deepest of depression, my heart says, "The answer to those questions is not obvious at all. Just look around. Where is God's grace? Where is God's compassion?"
It's a very troubling thing to relate to this Psalm so personally.
But the Psalm isn't done. The Psalmist goes on to write in verses ten-twelve:
"Then I said, 'I will appeal to this,
to the years of the right hand of the Most High.'
I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds."
In our Bible study, we discussed the question, "What might have caused the Psalmist to make such a turnaround?" This feels like a result of a conversation to me. He could have been talking to a loved one about this crisis of faith he was having, and that person might have helped him come to the conclusions he expresses in the second half of the passage. I say that, of course, because when I am in that position, I call on my own loved ones, and they remind me of what God has already done and will continue doing. They are the answer to the questions asked earlier:
"Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?"
No - his grace and compassion are shown through his people. Even when my heart doubts, my loved ones give me confidence in God's promises.
Stay tuned for May 30th: Anxiety, which is bound to be a doozy!
I just finished a Bible study on Psalm 77, and oh my goodness, did it resonate with me. Just listen to the first three verses:
"I cry aloud to God,
aloud to God, and he will hear me.
In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;
my soul refuses to be comforted.
When I remember God, I moan;
when I meditate, my spirit faints."
The first nine verses of the Psalm expand on this theme. We don't know for sure what the Psalmist was going through, but it was clearly some level of excruciating spiritual anguish. In verse nine, he asks,
"Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?"
When I explain my depression, I often distinguish between what I know with my head and what I feel or believe in my heart. Reading this, my brain says, "Of course the answer to those questions is no. God would never do those things!"
But especially when I'm experiencing the deepest of depression, my heart says, "The answer to those questions is not obvious at all. Just look around. Where is God's grace? Where is God's compassion?"
It's a very troubling thing to relate to this Psalm so personally.
But the Psalm isn't done. The Psalmist goes on to write in verses ten-twelve:
"Then I said, 'I will appeal to this,
to the years of the right hand of the Most High.'
I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your wonders of old.
I will ponder all your work,
and meditate on your mighty deeds."
In our Bible study, we discussed the question, "What might have caused the Psalmist to make such a turnaround?" This feels like a result of a conversation to me. He could have been talking to a loved one about this crisis of faith he was having, and that person might have helped him come to the conclusions he expresses in the second half of the passage. I say that, of course, because when I am in that position, I call on my own loved ones, and they remind me of what God has already done and will continue doing. They are the answer to the questions asked earlier:
"Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?"
No - his grace and compassion are shown through his people. Even when my heart doubts, my loved ones give me confidence in God's promises.
Stay tuned for May 30th: Anxiety, which is bound to be a doozy!
Tuesday, May 26, 2020
Writing Prompt #11: Coffee
Tanner's prompt for today is Coffee.
Shortly after arriving in Tallahassee, I remember having this conversation with Pastor Jay.
PJ: "Do you drink coffee?"
Me: "I do not."
PJ: "What do you have to drink with breakfast?"
Me: "I drink a lot of milk."
And I remember Jay writing that detail into his Moleskin notebook and chuckling to himself.
It's true! Coffee has never held any attraction for me whatsoever. It smells weird, it tastes terrible, and it makes you jittery. What's there to like?
Okay, there must be something to like. I haven't read Tanner's blog post from this morning yet, but I assume he didn't choose this prompt just to talk about how awful coffee is.
Let's just say, coffee's not the way I like to start my morning. I like something cold (usually cereal and milk, because childhood habits die hard), a good book, and a hot shower. If I'm able to insert some kind of exercise, even better. That was walking the dog, but now that I no longer have a dog, I am considering taking up running again.
What's your morning routine? Let me know. Just don't try to convince me to drink coffee, because gross.
Stay tuned for May 28th: Compassion.
Shortly after arriving in Tallahassee, I remember having this conversation with Pastor Jay.
PJ: "Do you drink coffee?"
Me: "I do not."
PJ: "What do you have to drink with breakfast?"
Me: "I drink a lot of milk."
And I remember Jay writing that detail into his Moleskin notebook and chuckling to himself.
It's true! Coffee has never held any attraction for me whatsoever. It smells weird, it tastes terrible, and it makes you jittery. What's there to like?
Okay, there must be something to like. I haven't read Tanner's blog post from this morning yet, but I assume he didn't choose this prompt just to talk about how awful coffee is.
Let's just say, coffee's not the way I like to start my morning. I like something cold (usually cereal and milk, because childhood habits die hard), a good book, and a hot shower. If I'm able to insert some kind of exercise, even better. That was walking the dog, but now that I no longer have a dog, I am considering taking up running again.
What's your morning routine? Let me know. Just don't try to convince me to drink coffee, because gross.
Stay tuned for May 28th: Compassion.
Sunday, May 24, 2020
Writing Prompt #10: Rest
Tanner's prompt for today is Rest.
I don't feel like I have too much to say today. That might be because I'm sitting on my balcony enjoying the warm weather, and thinking is an awful lot of work. I have a book next to me, but - shhh - I stopped reading it awhile ago to watch Blue Bloods on my phone.
It's very restful to be out there, listening to the birds, doing a bit of people watching, and just generally lazing the day away. I'll do something eventually. But right now, rest is all I need. And that's okay.
I don't feel like I have too much to say today. That might be because I'm sitting on my balcony enjoying the warm weather, and thinking is an awful lot of work. I have a book next to me, but - shhh - I stopped reading it awhile ago to watch Blue Bloods on my phone.
It's very restful to be out there, listening to the birds, doing a bit of people watching, and just generally lazing the day away. I'll do something eventually. But right now, rest is all I need. And that's okay.
Stay tuned for May 26th: Coffee.
Friday, May 22, 2020
Writing Prompt #9: Fear
Tanner's prompt for today is Fear.
Recently, the first text I received from my friend Melissa in the morning was simply this:
The thing is, though, Melissa is the very definition of a person who does not live her life based on fear. She is the most cheerful, enthusiastic, joy-filled person I know, and she doesn't let any of her fears get in the way of what she wants or needs to do. For example, she is dedicated to going on a mission trip to Haiti, despite the fact that this involves flying on an airplane. She also flies to visit her friends and go on vacations. She hates flying, is terrified of flying, and yet she does it anyway.
It's easy to think of fear and courage as opposites. But Melissa is no less courageous because she's afraid of things; neither are we any less courageous because of our own fears. Courage is not the absence of fear. Rather, it is doing what's necessary despite our fears.
I may not be afraid of centipedes or airplanes, but I have a collection of fears, too. I fear rejection. I fear failure. I fear being alone. For a very long time, I've lived my life based on those fears. It's hard not to when your brain is so good at rationalizing them. "Remember that time you were rejected by people you thought were your friends? Wasn't that awful? You'd better make yourself as good of a friend as humanly possible so that no one will ever reject you ever again." It's not a bad thing to be a better friend, right? But being a better friend out of terror of rejection isn't a good method, and it's guaranteed to end poorly. It's preferable to be a better friend simply because you get along with someone and want to be friends with them. Friendship should come from a place of joy, not fear.
There's no obvious answer, no "right way" to live my life without being controlled by my fears. But Melissa is my neighbor now, which has given me ample opportunities to observe how she does it. Here's my unconfirmed guess: she relies on her faith in God and her relationships with other people. God tells her, as he tells us:
And Melissa, don't forget: I believe that you can take care of the centipedes, but I'm also here for you when you need help taking care of the centipedes. :)
Stay tuned for May 24th: Rest.
Recently, the first text I received from my friend Melissa in the morning was simply this:
"There is a centipede in my apartment and it's traumatizing."Melissa is afraid of a collection of things. I'm sure this isn't the full list, but the ones I'm aware of include: bugs (apparently including centipedes, and especially spiders), snakes, heights, airplanes, chair lifts (no skiing for Melsa!), and enclosed spaces.
The thing is, though, Melissa is the very definition of a person who does not live her life based on fear. She is the most cheerful, enthusiastic, joy-filled person I know, and she doesn't let any of her fears get in the way of what she wants or needs to do. For example, she is dedicated to going on a mission trip to Haiti, despite the fact that this involves flying on an airplane. She also flies to visit her friends and go on vacations. She hates flying, is terrified of flying, and yet she does it anyway.
It's easy to think of fear and courage as opposites. But Melissa is no less courageous because she's afraid of things; neither are we any less courageous because of our own fears. Courage is not the absence of fear. Rather, it is doing what's necessary despite our fears.
I may not be afraid of centipedes or airplanes, but I have a collection of fears, too. I fear rejection. I fear failure. I fear being alone. For a very long time, I've lived my life based on those fears. It's hard not to when your brain is so good at rationalizing them. "Remember that time you were rejected by people you thought were your friends? Wasn't that awful? You'd better make yourself as good of a friend as humanly possible so that no one will ever reject you ever again." It's not a bad thing to be a better friend, right? But being a better friend out of terror of rejection isn't a good method, and it's guaranteed to end poorly. It's preferable to be a better friend simply because you get along with someone and want to be friends with them. Friendship should come from a place of joy, not fear.
There's no obvious answer, no "right way" to live my life without being controlled by my fears. But Melissa is my neighbor now, which has given me ample opportunities to observe how she does it. Here's my unconfirmed guess: she relies on her faith in God and her relationships with other people. God tells her, as he tells us:
"Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9)And her family and friends tell her, as good family and friends tell us:
"We believe in you, and we're here for you."With that in mind, perhaps I can follow Melissa's example and find my own courage.
And Melissa, don't forget: I believe that you can take care of the centipedes, but I'm also here for you when you need help taking care of the centipedes. :)
Stay tuned for May 24th: Rest.
Thursday, May 21, 2020
Writing Prompt #8: Endurance
Tanner's prompt for yesterday was Endurance, so naturally I'm writing this today, because I did not endure and get it actually written yesterday.
Endurance is one of those words that I feel like I know the definition for, but if you ask me to define it, I'll say something really vague like "it's when you endure..." So, I decided to look it up. Here's the dictionary.com definition:
Sometimes, the hardest part of being a runner is knowing when to stop running - when endurance is not actually what you need, but rest. I loved running so much in high school that it once took six months of constant pain from what ended up being four different injuries to convince me to take a break. After all, what are some of the usual sports mantras? "Don't give up." "Keep going." "You can do it." "Dig deep."
In reality, though, me finally taking a break was me enduring. I wouldn't have been able to endure without taking a break. And once I did, I was able to heal and become a better runner.
Sometimes, God calls us to keep running. Sometimes, he calls us to rest. Both of those qualify as endurance, as long as we don't give up.
That seems like an excellent place to end; however, I can't resist telling my favorite story about endurance from my track & field days. My teammate Sammi was just not feeling a race one day. She told me she was convinced she couldn't win; she was running for second, and she didn't seem to have high hopes. When the race started, there was a bit of a collision, and her shoe came off. Instead of giving up - which would have been so easy! - she endured, and she won. With only one shoe. It was amazing and I will be amazed by it forever and ever.
Stay tuned for May 22nd: Fear.
Endurance is one of those words that I feel like I know the definition for, but if you ask me to define it, I'll say something really vague like "it's when you endure..." So, I decided to look it up. Here's the dictionary.com definition:
- the fact or power of enduring or bearing pain, hardships, etc.
- the ability or strength to continue or last, especially despite fatigue, stress, or other adverse conditions; stamina.
- lasting quality; duration.
- something endured, as a hardship; trial.
Sometimes, the hardest part of being a runner is knowing when to stop running - when endurance is not actually what you need, but rest. I loved running so much in high school that it once took six months of constant pain from what ended up being four different injuries to convince me to take a break. After all, what are some of the usual sports mantras? "Don't give up." "Keep going." "You can do it." "Dig deep."
In reality, though, me finally taking a break was me enduring. I wouldn't have been able to endure without taking a break. And once I did, I was able to heal and become a better runner.
Sometimes, God calls us to keep running. Sometimes, he calls us to rest. Both of those qualify as endurance, as long as we don't give up.
That seems like an excellent place to end; however, I can't resist telling my favorite story about endurance from my track & field days. My teammate Sammi was just not feeling a race one day. She told me she was convinced she couldn't win; she was running for second, and she didn't seem to have high hopes. When the race started, there was a bit of a collision, and her shoe came off. Instead of giving up - which would have been so easy! - she endured, and she won. With only one shoe. It was amazing and I will be amazed by it forever and ever.
Stay tuned for May 22nd: Fear.
Monday, May 18, 2020
Writing Prompt #7: Grief/Loss
Tanner's prompt for today is Grief/Loss.
I rarely cry.
I used to cry all the time, but after being teased for it so much in middle school, I learned how to keep it in. I'm still extremely emotional, don't get me wrong, but crying is hard. Which, oddly enough, makes me want to cry, but I can't, usually.
The most recent time I cried was after a nurse friend of mine described her current working environment for me. After we were done talking and I'd hung up the phone, I just sobbed. I am someone who always wants to fix things, and I was completely powerless. My friend was hurting, and there was nothing I could do. I cried for her, and I cried for me.
I've been trying to avoid writing about the Coronavirus because it seems like that's all we hear about everywhere these days. We need a break. But there's so much grief and loss right now. It's important to acknowledge it. It's important to be allow ourselves to be sad.
So I suppose that's my message for all of us tonight. Don't hold in your tears. Be sad if you need to be sad, and find the joy where you can.
Stay tuned for May 20th: Endurance.
I rarely cry.
I used to cry all the time, but after being teased for it so much in middle school, I learned how to keep it in. I'm still extremely emotional, don't get me wrong, but crying is hard. Which, oddly enough, makes me want to cry, but I can't, usually.
The most recent time I cried was after a nurse friend of mine described her current working environment for me. After we were done talking and I'd hung up the phone, I just sobbed. I am someone who always wants to fix things, and I was completely powerless. My friend was hurting, and there was nothing I could do. I cried for her, and I cried for me.
I've been trying to avoid writing about the Coronavirus because it seems like that's all we hear about everywhere these days. We need a break. But there's so much grief and loss right now. It's important to acknowledge it. It's important to be allow ourselves to be sad.
So I suppose that's my message for all of us tonight. Don't hold in your tears. Be sad if you need to be sad, and find the joy where you can.
Stay tuned for May 20th: Endurance.
Saturday, May 16, 2020
Writing Prompt #6: Dogs
Tanner's prompt for today is Dogs.
Oh, boy.
Shortly after moving to Oklahoma, I went to the local animal control shelter and adopted a dog. I named her Kensi, after the NCIS: Los Angeles character. I put her in my backseat to drive home, and within a couple of minutes, she had crawled over the center console into my lap. She's not a small dog, and my car isn't a big car, so this was a bit of a problem. But all it took was her trying to lick my face while I was driving to make me fall in love.
I wanted a pet because I was going to be living all alone for the first time, and I knew I would need a reason to not just sit in my living room and binge watch Hulu when I wasn't at work.
Also, I just like dogs.
I wasn't allowed to have pets inside my house, so Kensi lived in the backyard and garage. She would have rather been inside, but the backyard and garage provided opportunities for her favorite activity: fetch. I learned very quickly that tennis balls were the best thing in the entire world to this dog. Treats are great; she likes meeting new people; squirrels are exciting; but tennis balls, oh man, they are the best, paws down.
I say that, and now I'm going to immediately contradict myself. Tennis balls are second on Kensi's list. Number one on her list is me. I've never had another pet (except maybe my cat Sabrina growing up) who just adored me, specifically, so much. My family came to visit me just a day after I brought Kensi home, and don't get me wrong, she loved them right away, but even if they were all outside with her, if I went inside, she ran to the door and whined. She just wants to be with me all of the time.
Exhibit B of this phenomenon: I worked just across a large parking lot from my house. Kensi watched me walk to work every day. One day, she got out of the yard and came and scratched at my office door to be let in. She didn't want to run away. She just missed me.
When Tammy came to live with me, Kensi was the best icebreaker I could have hoped for. Tammy loved Kensi instantly, and it was mutual. We went on many a walk and played many, many games of fetch. Tammy used to put on "dog shows" in our backyard and at the neighboring park.
Tammy's middle school was just down the block from our house, and we usually walked there and back. Kensi became a staple of the schoolyard; kids loved to greet her after school every day while I waited for Tammy. When Tammy started high school, I brought Kensi with me almost every day to drop her off and pick her up. Dog selfies in the car became my life. Check out my Facebook feed if you don't believe me. At least half of my pictures (if not more) are dog selfies.
Kensi also proved her worth as an author. She wrote a few Christmas cards. I did the actual writing, since Kensi doesn't have thumbs, but she told me what to say. She always signed off with, "Merry Christmas! Woof!"
Life in Oklahoma wasn't easy, but I always knew that Kensi would have a smile for me. Without her, I don't know that I would have made it through.
When we moved to Wisconsin, there was never any question: Kensi was coming with us. It's been lovely getting to have her inside the apartment. She keeps my feet warm at night and my kitchen floor nice and clean. She greets our visitors and snuggles on the couch and keeps watch from our balcony. Life has never been better for this dog of mine.
This coming Tuesday morning, both of our lives are going to change. Kensi will become someone else's dog. But that's not what I wanted this blog post to be about. I wanted to remember the good times. If you have any good memories with Kensi - and I know many of you do - leave them in the comments below.
Stay tuned for May 18th: Grief/Loss.
Oh, boy.
Shortly after moving to Oklahoma, I went to the local animal control shelter and adopted a dog. I named her Kensi, after the NCIS: Los Angeles character. I put her in my backseat to drive home, and within a couple of minutes, she had crawled over the center console into my lap. She's not a small dog, and my car isn't a big car, so this was a bit of a problem. But all it took was her trying to lick my face while I was driving to make me fall in love.
I wanted a pet because I was going to be living all alone for the first time, and I knew I would need a reason to not just sit in my living room and binge watch Hulu when I wasn't at work.
Also, I just like dogs.
I wasn't allowed to have pets inside my house, so Kensi lived in the backyard and garage. She would have rather been inside, but the backyard and garage provided opportunities for her favorite activity: fetch. I learned very quickly that tennis balls were the best thing in the entire world to this dog. Treats are great; she likes meeting new people; squirrels are exciting; but tennis balls, oh man, they are the best, paws down.
I say that, and now I'm going to immediately contradict myself. Tennis balls are second on Kensi's list. Number one on her list is me. I've never had another pet (except maybe my cat Sabrina growing up) who just adored me, specifically, so much. My family came to visit me just a day after I brought Kensi home, and don't get me wrong, she loved them right away, but even if they were all outside with her, if I went inside, she ran to the door and whined. She just wants to be with me all of the time.
Exhibit B of this phenomenon: I worked just across a large parking lot from my house. Kensi watched me walk to work every day. One day, she got out of the yard and came and scratched at my office door to be let in. She didn't want to run away. She just missed me.
When Tammy came to live with me, Kensi was the best icebreaker I could have hoped for. Tammy loved Kensi instantly, and it was mutual. We went on many a walk and played many, many games of fetch. Tammy used to put on "dog shows" in our backyard and at the neighboring park.
Tammy's middle school was just down the block from our house, and we usually walked there and back. Kensi became a staple of the schoolyard; kids loved to greet her after school every day while I waited for Tammy. When Tammy started high school, I brought Kensi with me almost every day to drop her off and pick her up. Dog selfies in the car became my life. Check out my Facebook feed if you don't believe me. At least half of my pictures (if not more) are dog selfies.
Kensi also proved her worth as an author. She wrote a few Christmas cards. I did the actual writing, since Kensi doesn't have thumbs, but she told me what to say. She always signed off with, "Merry Christmas! Woof!"
Life in Oklahoma wasn't easy, but I always knew that Kensi would have a smile for me. Without her, I don't know that I would have made it through.
When we moved to Wisconsin, there was never any question: Kensi was coming with us. It's been lovely getting to have her inside the apartment. She keeps my feet warm at night and my kitchen floor nice and clean. She greets our visitors and snuggles on the couch and keeps watch from our balcony. Life has never been better for this dog of mine.
This coming Tuesday morning, both of our lives are going to change. Kensi will become someone else's dog. But that's not what I wanted this blog post to be about. I wanted to remember the good times. If you have any good memories with Kensi - and I know many of you do - leave them in the comments below.
Stay tuned for May 18th: Grief/Loss.
Thursday, May 14, 2020
Writing Prompt #5: Grace
Tanner's prompt for today is Grace. I assume he picked it because it's my middle name.
I remember studying grace in Confirmation class. We used this acronym:
God's
Riches
At
Christ's
Expense
As a kid, this seemed so simple. "God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." God loved the sinful, broken world, the world that turned away from him time and time again, the world that deserved nothing but rejection. He loved that world so much that he sent his Son to suffer and die for its salvation. Nothing else mattered.
As an adult, this doesn't feel so simple. I am like the Israelites in the desert - liberated from slavery and complaining about the food. "Salvation is great, God, but what about my career? What about my mental health? What about marriage?" I find myself relating to the Israelites more every day. "What about that food, God? You couldn't expect them to be happy about eating the same thing every day?"
Paul understood the temptation to be bitter and angry. He wrote to the Philippians, "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me."
I want to ask Paul to tell me the secret. I want to be content! I can't even describe how much I want to be content in every circumstance! But he tells us the secret: he did all this through Christ. Jesus, the grace-giver, strengthened his faith and enabled him to face every situation with confidence. God gave Paul the ability to be content. He has also given it to us. We find it in his Word, in meeting with one another (even through technological means), in worship, in praise, in prayer. We don't have to seek out the secret. It's grace. We already have it.
Knowing that we have the power already to be content - let that be a game-changer for us.
Stay tuned for May 16th: Dogs. It's bound to be an interesting ride.
I remember studying grace in Confirmation class. We used this acronym:
God's
Riches
At
Christ's
Expense
As a kid, this seemed so simple. "God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." God loved the sinful, broken world, the world that turned away from him time and time again, the world that deserved nothing but rejection. He loved that world so much that he sent his Son to suffer and die for its salvation. Nothing else mattered.
As an adult, this doesn't feel so simple. I am like the Israelites in the desert - liberated from slavery and complaining about the food. "Salvation is great, God, but what about my career? What about my mental health? What about marriage?" I find myself relating to the Israelites more every day. "What about that food, God? You couldn't expect them to be happy about eating the same thing every day?"
Paul understood the temptation to be bitter and angry. He wrote to the Philippians, "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me."
I want to ask Paul to tell me the secret. I want to be content! I can't even describe how much I want to be content in every circumstance! But he tells us the secret: he did all this through Christ. Jesus, the grace-giver, strengthened his faith and enabled him to face every situation with confidence. God gave Paul the ability to be content. He has also given it to us. We find it in his Word, in meeting with one another (even through technological means), in worship, in praise, in prayer. We don't have to seek out the secret. It's grace. We already have it.
Knowing that we have the power already to be content - let that be a game-changer for us.
Stay tuned for May 16th: Dogs. It's bound to be an interesting ride.
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
Writing Prompt #4: Stillness
Tanner's prompt for today is Stillness.
I decided to write this right after waking up in the morning, because that's when the house is most still. It's quiet and peaceful for the moment here. I feel calm. A little tired, but calm nonetheless.
In between yawning and stretching, I am lying in bed and considering the day. It would be easy to write it off as just another day - a day I just have to get through, nothing special about it. But maybe, here in the stillness of the morning, I can make it more than that.
Recently, when I was looking through my bookshelves, I discovered a notecard with some Bible verses written on it. I'm not sure who wrote them for me or why, but here's one of them:
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27)
This stillness - this calm, peace, quiet - is a gift. It can soothe my troubled soul if I let it. It doesn't have to end with the morning. God's gifts are more powerful than that.
Stay tuned for May 14th: Grace.
I decided to write this right after waking up in the morning, because that's when the house is most still. It's quiet and peaceful for the moment here. I feel calm. A little tired, but calm nonetheless.
In between yawning and stretching, I am lying in bed and considering the day. It would be easy to write it off as just another day - a day I just have to get through, nothing special about it. But maybe, here in the stillness of the morning, I can make it more than that.
Recently, when I was looking through my bookshelves, I discovered a notecard with some Bible verses written on it. I'm not sure who wrote them for me or why, but here's one of them:
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27)
This stillness - this calm, peace, quiet - is a gift. It can soothe my troubled soul if I let it. It doesn't have to end with the morning. God's gifts are more powerful than that.
Stay tuned for May 14th: Grace.
Sunday, May 10, 2020
Writing Prompt #3: Mothers
Tanner's prompt for today is Mothers.
I've been a mother for over four years now. I was a foster mother first; now I'm an adoptive mother. People tell me all the time that I'm a great mom, an amazing mom, a good role model, an inspiration, that they could never do what I do.
Here's the truth: I'm an okay mom. I'm not great. I'm moody, tired, and quiet most of the time. I am an expert in "do as I say, not as I do." I'm not saying I'm a bad mom, by any means. Working with foster kids taught me what bad parenting is, and that's not me. I'm just saying that I'm far from some saint of a mother.
I like to tell myself that "someday, when I'm not depressed, I'll do better." That's not helpful, though, when my daughter needs me right now. Could I get out of this chair and spend time with her today?
Ask me tomorrow.
Stay tuned for May 12th: Stillness.
I've been a mother for over four years now. I was a foster mother first; now I'm an adoptive mother. People tell me all the time that I'm a great mom, an amazing mom, a good role model, an inspiration, that they could never do what I do.
Here's the truth: I'm an okay mom. I'm not great. I'm moody, tired, and quiet most of the time. I am an expert in "do as I say, not as I do." I'm not saying I'm a bad mom, by any means. Working with foster kids taught me what bad parenting is, and that's not me. I'm just saying that I'm far from some saint of a mother.
I like to tell myself that "someday, when I'm not depressed, I'll do better." That's not helpful, though, when my daughter needs me right now. Could I get out of this chair and spend time with her today?
Ask me tomorrow.
Stay tuned for May 12th: Stillness.
Friday, May 8, 2020
Writing Prompt #2: Peace
Tanner's prompt for today is Peace.
Peace is...
...your heart, which had been racing, slowing down to a steady beat.
...your muscles, which had been tense, loosening and relaxing.
...moving from an uncomfortable position, held because you felt anxious, into a more natural one.
...safety, security, and rest.
I feel at peace when I am not worried about what the future holds; rather, I am content with the present. Church is intended to make us feel this way. After all, what is a sanctuary but a place of peace?
We often close worship services with these words: "Go in peace. Serve the Lord. Thanks be to God." When we leave church, ideally, we take the peace of the sanctuary out with us and share it with the rest of the world.
I'm not sure how to end this one, so I'll just leave that for you to ponder. Stay tuned for May 10th: Mothers!
Peace is...
...your heart, which had been racing, slowing down to a steady beat.
...your muscles, which had been tense, loosening and relaxing.
...moving from an uncomfortable position, held because you felt anxious, into a more natural one.
...safety, security, and rest.
I feel at peace when I am not worried about what the future holds; rather, I am content with the present. Church is intended to make us feel this way. After all, what is a sanctuary but a place of peace?
We often close worship services with these words: "Go in peace. Serve the Lord. Thanks be to God." When we leave church, ideally, we take the peace of the sanctuary out with us and share it with the rest of the world.
I'm not sure how to end this one, so I'll just leave that for you to ponder. Stay tuned for May 10th: Mothers!
Wednesday, May 6, 2020
Writing Prompt #1: Joy
Hello, friends! For the next few weeks, I'm going to be following along with Tanner Olsen's writing prompts. Today is Joy.
When I think of joy, the first thing that comes to mind is pain. I know that's strange, but stick with me. When my cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and my stomach aches from laughing so hard, that's joy. By necessity, therefore, joy is something that's shared. I'm rarely going to smile and laugh to the point of physical pain by myself. I cannot experience joy alone.
You may think I'm confusing "joy" with "happiness," and you may be right. However, as a former victim of bullying who has gone through periods of severe anxiety and depression, the list of people with whom I can experience that kind of cheek-hurting stomach-aching joy is pretty limited. If I relax enough around you to smile that much and laugh that hard, then you bring me joy. You make me feel safe enough to be joyful.
The Bible tells us to rejoice always. That sounds nice, right? Rejoice is such a pretty word. But that's a Law verse, not a Gospel promise, and it convicts me. How can I honestly rejoice always when I have to actively distract myself several times a day to avoid thinking about the events that caused my depression? Where is the joy in my pain?
I know that my loving God finds no joy in my pain. He did not cause it; he does not like it; he does not love me any less because of it. Rather, he rejoices in the fact that, despite my pain, I am still saved through the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus. I don't have all the answers, but I do know this: in heaven, there will be nowhere that I don't feel safe enough to be joyful. And that is a reason to rejoice.
Stay tuned for May 8th: Peace!
When I think of joy, the first thing that comes to mind is pain. I know that's strange, but stick with me. When my cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and my stomach aches from laughing so hard, that's joy. By necessity, therefore, joy is something that's shared. I'm rarely going to smile and laugh to the point of physical pain by myself. I cannot experience joy alone.
You may think I'm confusing "joy" with "happiness," and you may be right. However, as a former victim of bullying who has gone through periods of severe anxiety and depression, the list of people with whom I can experience that kind of cheek-hurting stomach-aching joy is pretty limited. If I relax enough around you to smile that much and laugh that hard, then you bring me joy. You make me feel safe enough to be joyful.
The Bible tells us to rejoice always. That sounds nice, right? Rejoice is such a pretty word. But that's a Law verse, not a Gospel promise, and it convicts me. How can I honestly rejoice always when I have to actively distract myself several times a day to avoid thinking about the events that caused my depression? Where is the joy in my pain?
I know that my loving God finds no joy in my pain. He did not cause it; he does not like it; he does not love me any less because of it. Rather, he rejoices in the fact that, despite my pain, I am still saved through the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus. I don't have all the answers, but I do know this: in heaven, there will be nowhere that I don't feel safe enough to be joyful. And that is a reason to rejoice.
Stay tuned for May 8th: Peace!
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