Quiet

Hello, friends.

I'm lying on my couch typing on my tablet in the dark. It's about as quiet as my house ever gets; usually my daughter has music turned up loud or I'm watching an episode of a tv show. Right now, all I can hear is the tapping of my fingers on the screen.

Quiet is something I've had a lot of recently. Quiet at work with only me in the office, quiet at home because I've felt too ill to do anything. But there is no quiet inside my head. Internally, I feel like I'm screaming all the time. The pressure to be perfect, to appear strong when there is so much turmoil everywhere I look, is overwhelming. I can't handle it on my own. But it often feels like I have nowhere to turn.

This past Monday, I realized that the pressure was getting to me. I wasn't eating or sleeping. I was constantly nauseous and exhausted. I couldn't concentrate on anything. Everything made me frustrated. I decided that there was no point to prolonging the inevitable, so I went to the doctor and he prescribed me some medicine to help control my stress. He said to give it ten days to start having an effect. I'll see if it does. Anything has to be better than how I still feel at the moment.

I didn't want to admit this. The fact that I need medical help to control my stress made me feel ashamed - at first. But the fact is that we all need help sometimes. It isn't a bad thing. And recognizing that is the first step.

There was one other thing that made me feel ashamed. What right did I have to be so stressed when so many people have it worse off than I do? But that's not a useful way to think, either. My problem may seem small in the grand scheme of things, but that doesn't make it any less legitimate.

I guess my point is this: it's okay to admit to not being okay.

Big News

Hello, friends. I have some big news for you - but said news isn't quite as exciting as the Big News of my call to Oklahoma. This big news is kind of scary. Pastor House, my supervisor from Redeemer and the alternative caregiver of my foster daughter, recently accepted a call to another church. He and his wife will be moving almost five hours away at the end of the month.

This situation is a weird combination of sadness and joy. The sadness, of course, comes from the fact that Pastor House has been a good supervisor and friend to me and a positive influence on my foster daughter. I will miss him and Audrey very much. The joy comes from the fact that God knows what he's doing, and clearly has a plan for both Pastor House and Redeemer. To use a cliche I usually avoid, when one door closes, another one opens.

I have a somewhat unusual prayer request during this time: please pray that Redeemer does not receive a new pastor soon.

The vacancy and call process will undoubtedly be stressful and busy for me, and selfishly, I want a new pastor ASAP. However, I don't think that's a good idea for Redeemer at this time. Our church, just like any other, needs time to regroup before it is ready to call another pastor. So please, pray that the leaders of Redeemer will be willing to take the time to do what is best for the congregation.

Sibling Story Time

Hello, friends. Gather around, for it is story time.

Ten years and a few months ago, my brother and I got into a big fight. This came as a surprise to exactly no one who knew us. Zach and I had a love-hate relationship that often leaned heavily towards the hate side. I have no idea what the fight was about, but I do distinctly remember that I was so mad that I decided to count down the days until he was going to move to college. I kept it up for over a hundred days. (I was recently reminded of this because it keeps popping up as a memory on Facebook!)

Fast-forward to this past Monday and Tuesday. My foster daughter and I made the trek to Marion to visit Zach, Lindsey, and Kylen. I emphasized to many people before we left that we were going to see Kylen, and there would probably be other people there, but my adorable two-year-old nephew was the priority. It's true, I did spend a disproportionate amount of time spoiling the little guy, but I also spent a lot of time talking with Zach. This has led me to a shocking conclusion:

I actually like my brother a lot.

There, I said it.

There's something unique about the bond between brother and sister. Like I said earlier, we used to argue constantly, but despite all that, there was never a time that we didn't love each other. I think it's only in the last several years that we've honestly started liking each other. I'm glad for the change, big bro. Thanks for being a role model for me. Thanks for talking through everything from taxes to parenting with me. You're an incredible father and husband and yes, brother - as much as the me of ten years ago would never believe it. Now, instead of counting down the days until you leave, I'm counting down the days until I can see you again.

And Kylen. Because he's cuter than you.

A Sort-Of Psalm

Hello, friends.

I once had an assignment in which I had to write a story of sorts in the style of an Old Testament book. If I'm remembering correctly, I chose Jonah. It was an interesting exercise - using biblical language to describe something in the modern day. Well, today was a rather long and frustrating day for me. When I first day down to write a blog post, I entirely intended to do nothing but complain. But I think it would be helpful for me to write about my day in the style of a book of the Bible again, and once I get to the end, you'll see why. Here goes nothing, kind of in the style of one of the Psalms of lament.

O Lord, today I felt alone,
    exhausted, and betrayed.
I did all that I could do
    and still, it was not enough.
My best of intentions
    amounted to nothing at all.

Those supposed to help
    were absent and unashamed.
When I needed them the most,
    they were elsewhere.
And I wondered, Lord God,
    where were You?

But when I looked around,
    I found You everywhere.
You were there in my daughter;
    You were there in my pastor;
You were in the kindness of friends
    and the sympathy of family.
I did not want to see You,
    But You were still there.

Lord, Forgiver and Redeemer,
    convict me with Your presence
and help me to be the person
    You created me to be.

Everything Is an Experiment

Hello, friends. Today, instead of going to work, I'm sitting at home eating small amounts of cereal and trying not to throw up. So far, so good.

I did have to leave at some point to drive my daughter to and from the library, where she had been volunteering. I say "had been" because today, the teen librarian told me that she wasn't a good fit for the program. It was an uncomfortable conversation. Basically, she said that my daughter didn't want to help - all she wanted to do was play.

This didn't come as a great shock to me, and if you've spent any time with my daughter, I doubt you're shocked either. But if that conversation was uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to the conversation I then had to have with my daughter. I spent the drive home thinking, "How on earth do I break this to her?"

In the end, I kept it simple. I asked her some questions about what she did at the library versus what she was supposed to do, and she was able to acknowledge that she didn't always listen to the librarian. I then told her about one of my mottos in life: everything is an experiment. If one thing doesn't work, we try something else. And that's okay. Not everything is going to work. Sometimes things will work for awhile and then stop working. When one experiment fails, we move on to the next. That's how life works.

I'm glad she was able to volunteer, even if only for a few weeks. Now we find our next experiment.

What Is the Church (Softball Team)

Hello, friends. Tonight, during our first church softball game, the opposing team needed some extra players.  Our team had so many players that I hadn't even put myself on our line-up, so I volunteered myself. This gave me the unique opportunity to watch my team govern themselves.

The other team put me in right field. I was in the perfect position to observe my team's dugout. They were laughing and joking and cheering each other on and helping each other out and I thought to myself, this is the church. This is what I want to see. This beautiful sight reminded me of 1st Thessalonians 5:11 - "Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing."

Then it came time for them to go into the field. Despite the clearly-displayed lineup that I had done and redone five times to the best of my ability, people got confused and went to the wrong positions and started yelling at each other and getting frustrated. At first I was discouraged as I watched them from the other dugout, but then I realized: this is the church, too. We're not perfect. We make mistakes. We get angry. We get annoyed. We're just people, after all.

The game went on, and there were ups and downs in both dugouts. But in the end, we all came out as friends, and that's what the church truly is - a place of forgiveness.

Lessons from Lizzie McGuire

Hello, friends.

"No one person can save the whole world." That's a familiar phrase from my blog, but I want to share with you where I first learned it. It's not where you might think.

When I was younger, I was a big Disney Channel girl. One of my favorite shows was Lizzie McGuire. I vividly remember an episode in which Lizzie and her friend ran a successful food drive at their school. Because of their success, Lizzie became obsessed with volunteering and other noble pursuits - she started forcefully collecting items for the homeless shelter and sorting out trash and recycling at home, and she even became a vegetarian. She yelled at her mother for leaving the water running, her friends for making paper airplanes, and her teacher for not printing a pop quiz double-sided.

Lizzie's parents sat her down to talk about her behavior. They pointed out that she was taking on too much and running herself into the ground - she couldn't save the world by herself. If she really wanted to make a difference, they said, what she needed to do was pick one thing and go for it. Her heart was in the right place, but she needed to calm down and allow herself to rest.

Lizzie tried to do too much. She wanted to support the food pantry and homeless shelter. She wanted to recycle more and help animals and save the earth's resources. None of those things were bad, but she was only one person, and she couldn't do all of those things at once.

When I was in college, boy, did I make a Lizzie mistake. I tried to be a key leader in Students for Life, Puppet Ministry, and Small Groups all at once while still participating in other activities and taking a full course load. Everything suffered for lack of time and energy until I realized that I had tried to do too much. All of the things I was doing were good things, but I was only one person, and I just couldn't do all of them at once. I had to give some of them up in order to give my best effort.

It's easy to fall into that trap. We can become "yes-people," always agreeing to do anything that sounds good. That is a mistake. It's better to do one or two things, and do them very well, than to do five or six things poorly. It doesn't matter if all five or six things are good and important if you can't do them well.

Right now, in my life, I've picked my things. I'm a foster mother. I adopted a dog from a rescue. I donate money to my friends who are missionaries overseas. And when an important cause comes up, such as the recent tragedy in Manchester, I give a one-time donation. I can't afford to give my money to every charity, although there are many charities that I believe in. If I did give my money and my time and my energy to every worthy cause, I'd be broke and exhausted and unable to help any new causes in the future. I have to pick and choose. That's the choice that I have, and it's a good one. By picking my things, I'm able to help more people in the long run.

I can't save the whole world. But I can make a difference, one person and one cause at a time. And so can you.