Hating Waste: A Review of Jen Hatmaker’s Seven

Written by on January 24, 2012 in Blog, RESOURCES - 8 Comments

You know what I hate? Wasting stuff. I hate wasting time, but I just sat here mindlessly reading my Twitter feed, as if knowing one more person loves Downton Abbey (which I haven’t seen) is going to help me start this blog post. Plus, now I have one more show that I must find time for.

I hate wasting money, yet there is a hot purple cropped jacket with gold threads in it hanging in my closet. At what point I thought I’d be wearing that thing out, I’m not sure. I was possessed at the store, and spent ninety seconds daydreaming about some other life where that purple cropped jacket would have been absolutely necessary. I have never worn it.

I hate wasting food, but I regularly scrape enough food into the trash to feed the entire village in Burkina Faso (where my Compassion kids live). Oh, and by the way, my scraped food flies into the trash and makes its home on top of numerous recyclables, because although I hate killing the earth, apparently I’m too busy checking my twitter feed to actually recycle. And for the record, stuffed peppers are gross. I probably wouldn’t feed them to my Burkina Faso children anyway.

Even the Apostle Paul can relate:

“I do not understand why I insist on spending decades of my life on Facebook or checking my phone like someone’s heart will stop beating if I DO NOT CHECK MY EMAIL before bed. I do not understand why I have twenty-two handbags or a pantry full of food that no one eats or enough trash to create my hole in the ozone. For what I want to do (be peaceful, be present, be loving, be kind) I do not do, but what I hate to do–I DO.” Romans 7:15, Nicole version.

If you think I’m crazy, don’t read Seven: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess. But if you can relate, hold onto your recyclable trash, ladies. We are going on a journey that just might change your life.

Seven, by Jen Hatmaker (who might be the funniest Christian on the planet), after struggling with her own love/hate relationship with our consumer culture, decided to do something about it. Seven chronicles her own journey with tackling seven wasteful areas in her own life:

Food. Clothes. Spending. Waste. Stress. Possessions. Media.

Over the course of seven months, Jen committed herself (and sometimes, her family) to reducing or eliminating one area of waste in her valiant-but-not-perfect attempt at tackling rampant consumerism. If you’ve ever felt like living in our culture is a soul-sucking vacuum that you can’t seem to escape, you must read this book. And if you are likely to read the book, think it sounds like a great idea, and then promptly forget about it, then do this: read the book with me.

Beginning next week, a small group of friends and myself will be journeying through Seven, and we want YOU to join us. We’ll take one area of excess and tackle it for one week. So hurry up! Buy the book here. We will start with the first area Jen tackles: food. We’ll all adjust the “plan” to suit our own conviction, as Jen’s own friends, nicknamed “the counsel” did. More on this to come. But if you are looking for a book that doesn’t just entertain or inspire you, but actually sparks a change–then read Seven with us. You’ll find support (and much complaining, I’m sure) here! Even better: I’ll pick two people who commit to our group to win the book for free. If you are “in”, leave a comment telling us what area of life you are most interested in changing. I’ll pick a winner by Wednesday (so the rest of you people can hurry up and buy the book). 

For more on Jen Hatmaker, visit her webpage or find her on Twitter. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Four Friday Bites

Written by on January 20, 2012 in Blog, Daily Life With Jesus - No Comments

Oh, readers, does anyone else have the lifelong issue of always thinking they can accomplish more in one day than womanly possible? I like to throw the word “just” in front of my many to-dos:

I’ll just run to the grocery store and grab that…

I’ll just fold the laundry before I meet you….

I’ll just finish these emails…

I’ll just have a quick playdate for my kids…coach my daughter’s cheerleading squad…bring snack for the basketball game…plan a bridal shower...

They are all fun but darn it if I don’t know how to manage how much time they take! So let me get to the point (as you are thinking, I’ll just read a quick blog post….)

1. I am so excited to be teaching a four-week series on Proverbs 3 at Hope Church beginning next Thursday (January 26). Thrive meets at 10am and 7pm at Hope. Come one, come all–this is an open invitation regardless of whether you attend Hope. It might help if you live in Richmond, though. If  you’ve ever thought to yourself, “I know what I believe in my head but sometimes my heart and soul aren’t living it,” then this series on trusting God will be perfect for you. I cannot wait to share what God is teaching me through this study!

2. We are starting a podcast that begins on Feb. 1st called Becoming. The podcast is based on this quote by Martin Luther: “this life, therefore, is not being…but becoming” and it’s on all things about figuring out our lives and our faith. I’m the host and my senior pastor David Dwight is the main character. (He actually is kind of a character.) You can download the free podcast series on itunes and decide for yourself if I’m as funny as I apparently think I am, based on the amount of guffawing I do.

3. I’ll be reviewing Jen Hatmaker’s book Seven next week on the blog. Short review: this book is incredible. Not only will I give you a longer review than that (AND give away a couple of books), I’m also going to be hosting a seven-week blog series as I travel through the book with a small group of friends. Why don’t you join us as we examine the areas of excess in our own lives, from food to clothing to media….you’ll hear more in the upcoming weeks but I promise you: you want to be part of this!

4. I had a weird God-ish moment yesterday regarding this article. Not sure what will happen next, but read it to see if you can figure out why it freaked me out (in a good way).

Off to a weekend of celebrating my hub’s birthday. Hard to believe I was celebrating with him when he turned 18. He didn’t like me so much then, but hey, I won that battle. Here’s to 19 years of birthdays and decades more to come! I’m so thankful this morning for the craziest things: a blog where I can connect with you from all over the place, twitter where I can read articles about women named Nikole and Eunice, coffee (always coffee), great friends to laugh with, and a God who takes delight in me just because he made me, not because of anything I can do. Amazing.

 

 

When Sorry Teaches Grace

Written by on January 18, 2012 in Blog, mothering - No Comments

I think teaching my children 'sweet revenge' is important, apparently

A couple of months ago I was hanging out in the church nursery with Desmond (yes, I said I was hanging out in the nursery, this is strange in itself but so the story goes). Des and I were passing the time before big-kid school pickup and we played Sorry.

I remembered Sorry being this terrible game when I was a child, but somehow, in the church nursery that quiet afternoon, it was fun. And whenever I can find something to do with my kids that doesn’t involve a screen  (or a mess) I’m all over it.

So Desmond asks for Sorry from Santa, Santa obliges, and I am now reminded that Sorry is a terrible game that involves long, drawn out play and much hysteria-inducing revenge.

It was no surprise that Sorry was the source of crisis yesterday afternoon. The babysitter, because she’s awesome, played it down for me, saying it was just a bit of “trouble” and Charlie was up in his room “getting some space.” (Side Note: all babysitters should talk like that even if kids screamed the entire time. When mom’s away from the house, as long as no one is bloody, WE DON’T WANT TO KNOW.)

Charlie tumbles down the stairs and words tumble from his mouth. Trouble and sweet revenge and justice color his cheeks. It seems there was a rule infraction while I was away. Voices were raised. Pieces were thrown. Games were forfeited. And Charlie retreated to his cave room, for the duration of the afternoon, where he probably played out the infraction, over and over, slowly building and rebuilding his case until it was air-tight. And so, he emerged, ready to lay out his sixteen-point arguement on why he was, in fact, correct.

Charlie is the poster child for firstborn stereotypes. He is a lover of rules and regulations. He loves black and white and rejects all grey. He loves punctuality and bylaws and all things crystal clear. When the rules are stated he can learn them, memorize them, abide by them, and keep the earth spinning by keeping himself right.

But for the first time in a long time, or maybe ever, he was actually wrong. And although he detailed all sixteen points of his reasoning, my deep grasp of Sorry intricacies trumped him. You had it wrong, I said. That’s not the rule, I said. Enter earth-shattering realization. His face went from resolute to disbelief to grief. And then, my always-stoic boy…he crumpled and began to cry.

I was wrong, he said. I hurt Cami, he said. At this point my heart has split open and poured out all over the floor. This is the moment I’ve yearned for, because my dear, beloved, oldest son is much like the eldest son that Jesus spoke about, the one who follows the rules and is right and becomes hardened by his right-ness. And for the first time in his nine year old life, I saw the remorse and regret, laying across his shoulders. He was wrong.

Enter Cami. Charlie’s tears were more than she could bear, and she began her own five-alarm lament. If you don’t know what “wailing” sounds like, well, now I do.  Sometimes girls find crying contagious, and this was a fast-spreading bacteria. I threw the pieces!! she wailed, I hurt Charlie!! she weeped. This level of honest remorse was also uncharacteristic for my justification-loving middle child. At one point they formed a mini-crying duet, which Cami saw as the perfect opportunity to throw herself into Charlie’s arms. This stunned and alarmed him and he returned to nine-year-old boy mode, shoving her off and wiping his eyes.

But before the moment could pass, I folded them both into an embrace. In a moment of real mother joy, I got to tell them about being wrong. About the fact that I am wrong ten or one hundred times a day. About why Daddy and I argue in the kitchen, because much like the Sorry game, we are both sure we are right. But, just like them, we are both a little wrong, most of the time. And I told them that’s why we love Jesus, because he can right our wrong-ness.

We get lost. We wander. We need guidance. We need forgiveness. We need a hug. We need grace. Galatians 3 reminds us that even if grace is what got us to love Jesus in the first place, we will be tempted to become perfect by our own effort. And every day that we experience the burden of our wrong-ness is an opportunity to experience the freedom of God’s righteousness.

So today, I’m thankful for a fight, tears, repentence and grace, captured in a three-way hug.

 

Everything and Nothing All At Once

Written by on January 13, 2012 in Blog, Daily Life With Jesus, Fears and Blessings - No Comments

I’ve always been bothered by wind, and  more bothered by the fact that wind bothers me. I consider myself a lover of change, and since wind is often equated with change, well, why wouldn’t I like it?

Maybe my ideas of change involving the plans I make and the actions I take. Maybe my idea of change is a bit naive and idealistic and is affected more by my privilege and youth than by wisdom or experience.

My idea of change is more like a journey by train. You pick the route and you check the plan. You buy your ticket and you get on, and unlike any other mass transport, the train only has one direction: it gets on a steel rail and chugs off. There may be stops or delays along the way, but the track doesn’t just change course. The train doesn’t just veer left and head toward Albequerque when you were headed for Albany.

But wind, like the one blowing today, blows from all angles. It calms down and the sun warms your skin, and then it kicks up and blows your hair across your face. Wind cuts through your clothes and chills you to the bone. It knocks over stuff. Wind shakes things up.

So perhaps my change as a train metaphor is stupid, and change is in fact like the wind. Which makes me like it a bit less.

In some ways, nothing has changed over here. I still get up every morning. I load and unload the dishwasher, or thank my husband for doing so. Lunches must get made. Laundry must be folded. I go to work, and then I write. I love and laugh at my children, and sometimes yell. I get tired. I sleep. I rise, and the rhythm continues.

But in other ways, the winds of change blow. They come when you least expect it. They can knock you off your feet. And no one looks dignified when they are getting blown over by a gust of wind. So as I watch my children get older; as I get ready to launch a book into the black hole of amazon ratings and bookshelves, as I feel the pain of loss around me and within me, as I taste the bittersweet joy of close community with all its drama and burden and dreams and pleasures, I admit I’m not as good as change as I would think.

I find that change comes with gifts but also with losses. I find that change means that there are things to rejoice and things to mourn. I find that change is not dignified and it’s not a one-rail destination. So I wrap my sweater more tightly around me and put my head down. Sometimes I hide under the covers for a bit but emerge ready to face the wind. And I tell myself, with words like this and prayers of surrender, that I must focus on the wonder and the power of change as much as the bluster and the chaos.

And so I stumble along, undignified, moving forward, blown sideways, and then continuing on. I lose my way and find it again, and discover I have no choice but to trust. The Maker of the Wind knows where all this is headed. The one who chooses when to let the winds of change blow and when to withhold them is powerful and unexpected but altogether good. It is the one thing that remains true, and faithful, steady and strong. His dwelling place is an impermeable shelter in my soul, the whisper that affirms what the saints through the years have proclaimed: “all shall be well, and all shall be well, all matters of things shall be well” (Julian of Norwich).

It’s not too late to join the One Word community. Check out our word picture here. 

This is One Word

Written by on January 10, 2012 in Blog, One Word 2012 - 1 Comment

Image courtesy of Wordle. Thank you, Wordle, whoever you are!

This is what our 2012 looks like.

You are not alone in wanting 2012 to be different. Since I’m striving for Deliver, I want to deliver on my desire to see you through 2012. So I’ll post once a month on my own one word, and I’ll come on by your (blog, twitter, facebook) and ask you how you are doing as well. And if you want to find me, I’m at nicole at takeheartministry dot com. (except with the punctuation). I’d love to pray for you and support you this year! If you didn’t pick or post your word yet, it’s not too late. For you, I’ll make another Wordle. So if you didn’t get your word in, give it to me somehow (social media or email) and I’ll add you to our picture. Finally, because I don’t think true change is possible without divine intervention: I’ll be praying for you, that God would intervene in your daily life, that He would come so near and be so present, that the word whispered on you came straight from his mouth to your heart.

He who rejects change is the architect of decay.  The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery.  ~Harold Wilson

The birds are molting.  If only man could molt also – his mind once a year its errors, his heart once a year its useless passions.  ~James Allen

 

 

One Word 2012

Written by on January 6, 2012 in Blog, One Word 2012 - 11 Comments

I can talk about (my problems, my hopes, my obstacles, my goals)…
but can I follow through?

I can dream all day…
but can I deliver?

The best ideas in the world are only a vapor until they become reality. A heart that breaks for justice or desires change or yearns for community can only stay still for so long. At some point, the complaining and the dreaming, the hopes and the fears, the plans and the progress…they become reality or they become history.

This week I worshipped, learned and led our students at the Passion conference. Every song and every speaker spoke what they had on their hearts. We cannot be a people of empty words. We cannot say and sing one thing and then not act. In the words of Passion 2012:

Do Something Now. Indifference is not an option.

The work we do is never shaped like rungs on a ladder, steps to climb that obtain our salvation. But faith without works is dead. And love without action is just a fantasy. So if I desire to live and love like Jesus, and to reflect God in me, I must deliver.

I long to be a wife and friend who says what she means. I long to be a mother who keeps her promises. I long to be a writer who proclaims truth with “authority and affection” in the words of Beth Moore. I long to be a leader who balances passion, patience and integrity.

And more than anything else, I want to deliver on my words, ideas and convictions of my heart.

This year, I want to do whatever it takes to deliver on those ideas. I want this blog to be a place where we speak out the words that define our year, and our lives. I want you to hold me to it. I want to deliver on my promise to read deeply and often in God’s word, and share with you those reflections. I want to give you 30 ways to get involved in ending slavery in our day. I want to bring you resources and reflections that encourage you in your journey.

And I want to pray for each and every one of you who signs up for a One Word 2012.

If you are in, declare it now. Leave a comment through Facebook or right here. Next Wednesday, I hope to display our words in one place that we can return to this year as we pray and cheer and listen to one another. Thanks for stopping by.

Don’t stay silent.

Raise your voice and raise your word.

One Word 2012

Written by on January 2, 2012 in Blog, One Word 2012 - No Comments

In a few short hours we’ll load up six vans of college students and trek down to Atlanta for the Passion Conference. It’s just 44,000 students experiencing worship, teaching and community together. Yep, just 44,000. You can imagine the level of excitement and anticipation for what God will do in this big group as well as our own community. You can find out more about Passion here, and you also can listen in to the live feed beginning 7pm Monday (EST).

I’m at a frenetic pace getting all the details for our group as well as my family together, but I couldn’t head out without asking you to start thinking about joining me for a One Word Resolution in 2012.

As Alece says it over on the One Word site, one word is about being intentional with your life in 2012. You choose “one word that sums up who you want to be or how you want to live or what you want to achieve by the end of 2012.” It’s that easy. So as I go into a time leading, laughing and serving these students, I encourage you to create a quiet space in your heart. See if God whispers something into it. Repeat that word to yourself. Listen for its echo for a few days. And then take a leap of faith. Choose the word. Decide that you want to grow, to change, to learn. Let that word be the beginning of something new in you for 2012.

Come on back Friday, and I’ll have a space for you to report your word. Just by speaking it forth, you begin the process of making room for what God wants to do in your life in 2012. For some ideas, you can read back on my one word posts from 2011, or check out the one word site or Facebook page.

My one word? I’ll tell you Friday. Until then, I’ll be lifting you up in prayer. Make space. Listen. Receive. And then resolve to live out your word, __________ in 2012. Can’t wait to share our words Friday!

 

 

To All The Hurting Ones in 2012…

Written by on January 1, 2012 in Blog, Daily Life With Jesus, Faith - No Comments

In the midst of the celebrating, the ball-dropping, the friend-gathering, I am aware of something else.

There are many who are hurting in this season. I know who you are. I read your Facebook status or tweets, I get your text messages, I see it in your face. Some of you wear your hurt like a shield, holding it out in front of you, an angry, red, weeping wound that you use to keep others away, because you couldn’t bear to hurt anymore than you do.

There are some of you who wear your hurt quietly. I catch the pleading look in your eye even when you tell me you are “fine.” When I hug you and I hold on a second too long it’s because I know.

And there are some of you that even I, with all my counseling training and insight therapy and blabbity-blah, still miss. There are some of you who are fooling everyone, trapped into your own prison of keeping up that happy appearance on the outside while inside you are wasting away.

The hurts may be self-inflicted: you who’ve wandered away from what’s true and lovely and have found yourself stuck in a pit full of empty promises and broken hopes, still grabbing onto anything that you think can pull you out of that mess and onto a solid rock, grasping at every little shoestring and frayed rope that anyone (or thing) lowers down into your misery.

The hurts may be other-inflicted: you who’ve endured scratches and bruises and gaping open wounds of the heart. No wonder you have turned in on yourself, hopelessly self-centered. You are closing over the wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. You are in survival mode. The violence of words or hands causes the bleeding but the deeper hurt is that you feel betrayed and alone, left behind and tossed aside by those you trusted the most. No wonder you don’t believe anyone can help you or heal you.

Your hurts, that you feel here on the cusp of a New Year, are probably a combination of both. We all wander.

And so, if you today is a day where you hurt, I would like to tell you something.

We, (your leaders, your pastors, your spiritual guides, your “elders”) have also wandered. We’ve spent much time in the desert wasteland of our own souls, making circles, lost, wandering, wondering. Helpless, hopeless, and guide-less.

We’ve wondered if God is real. We’ve wondered if He’s turned his back on us. And we’ve certainly, also, more often than anything else, turned our backs on Him. We’ve decided that his promises to be loving and faithful would mean that this guy would never break up with us or our parents would never scream at us or our friends would never talk about us behind our back. We’ve thought that God being loving and faithful would mean that we would get into our dream college or we would win that scholarship or we would have that job we’ve always wanted. We’ve thought that God being loving and faithful means a steady paycheck and a faithful spouse and respectful children and purposeful community. We’ve thought that God being loving and faithful would mean that we would have that friend or lover who would know us fully and delight in us constantly. We’ve thought God being loving and faithful would mean that we wouldn’t hurt like this.

I tell you that we have been there so that you know that there is a land beyond the desert. That even if you have been wandering for what seems like forever, there is a deliverer coming. You cannot wander beyond his reach. Even if you’ve turned away for the tenth or hundreth or thousandeth time, when you turn back, when you drop to your knees and put your head in your hands and call on Jesus, He will answer you. He will be there with his love. He will quiet you with his mercy. He will wash peace over you like a warm blanket. Your sleep will be restful and your heart will be calm. Come back to Him. Tell him that you are sorry for your sins, for the way you’ve hurt others, even if it’s been in self-protection. Tell him that you are sorry for not believing in his promises: the promise that He says about giving you a full life, of being faithful to you, of meeting your needs. Tell him that you are sorry that you keep following your own path again and again and AGAIN and that even though you don’t understand and are still a bit angry and feel unsure, you know that He’s the only true thing.

In John 6, Jesus gets popular. A bunch of people start following him because he’s the cool new thing. So he lays into them some hard truths: about laying down their lives to follow him, about him being the only way to eternal life with the Father. And many, many of them walked away. I think Jesus was sad, grieved that so many people came for the instant fix and didn’t stay for the relationship. He turns to his closest followers and says, “you don’t want to leave too, do you?” And Peter says, “where would we go? You alone have the words of eternal life.” Peter says that like a guy who knows what it’s like to wander. And if you read on, you know that Peter does in fact wander, betraying Christ and denying his name.

So if you are hurting, if you’ve wandered, take these words from Peter, a guy who knows what it’s like to be hurting, to walk away, and to come back to the only true life there is:

…Because Jesus was raised from the dead, we’ve been given a brand-new life and have everything to live for, including a future in heaven – and the future starts now!

…The Day is coming when you’ll have it all – life healed and whole. I know how great this makes you feel, even though you have to put up with every kind of aggravation in the meantime. Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; genuine faith put through this suffering comes out proved genuine.

…As obedient children, let yourselves be pulled into a way of life shaped by God’s life…You call out to God for help and he helps – he’s a good Father that way. But don’t forget, he’s also a responsible Father….

Today you hurt, perhaps even more than yesterday. Today you begin 2012, perhaps hopeless and joyless. But today is a day that you can fling yourself into the only true one, the faithful, good, constant, pure, fierce love of Jesus. Turn away from the hopeless things of today and entrust your heart to the Healer, the Deliverer, the Peace-Giver, the True-Life-Giver, the Savior.

 

7 for 11: Top 7 Moments of One Word 2011

Written by on December 27, 2011 in Blog, hearing God, One Word 2011 - 2 Comments

Almost a year ago, I jumped on the One Word bandwagon and focused. Not on being a better mom or organizing my closets or creating a budget (which is what my normal New Year’s Resolutions would fail sound like). Instead, with my friend Alece’s prompting, I listened carefully for one word: one word that would represent what I believed God was calling me to in 2011. For me, that one word was: Joy. You can read back on those posts here. I didn’t blog a ton about it, but I certainly thought about Joy often, reminding myself, disciplining myself, to remember that Joy is not optional for the Christian…it is a trait of our regenerated souls that we must pursue with serious intention. Joy is what sets us apart from those tossed by life’s storms, and Joy is popular. People like Joy. They want to be around Joy. They want to find out where you got your Joy…..Joy leads people to Jesus, especially when it exists outside, or despite, your circumstances.

So as I reflect on a year of Joy, I remember several moments that made my heart sing. I didn’t do Joy perfectly, or even well. But what I feel most about my year of Joy is that I experienced growth. And I think that’s what God was after all along!

(drumroll please):

Top 7 Joy-Moments of 2011:

–A book!

For some, it won’t feel like a long journey. But for me, a shortcut-loving, grade-skipping, three-kids-in-five years kinda girl, working and waiting and working and waiting and waiting and waiting for the right time and the right project and the right publisher was torturous. (the good torture, the kind that drives you to your face in prayer). So that day, when my agent called me (she was even stunned) to offer me the dream-contract with dream-publisher…well, that was some serious joy. And it was made even more sweet because of the waiting, the face-prayers, the wondering if God had indeed forgotten. Indeed he had not. To find out more about the book (coming out in May 2012), read back here.

–Olivia. 

After the book came the hectic, frantic ninety days of writing. Amazing to think that all that wondering and waiting would lead to a sprint of a manuscript. And in the middle of that, Olivia. I blogged about her here if you want to catch the story. The story is long and not mine to tell, but Olivia fought hard and I think I saw a miracle. The moment when I went to visit her and she said my name and gave me a hug was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever experienced. I’ll hold onto that moment forever. I’ve never prayed like that for anyone, or witnessed such love and compassion from a family brought together in that tragedy. I love that girl. She has made an amazing recovery and has already been accepted into college. She’s still waiting to hear from her #1 school….as is often the case, I’m finding that much joy is often accompanied by some pain.

–raising nearly 25K for Feed My Starving Children

In February of 2010, I tried to take a challenge I heard about through Keri Wyatt Kent’s book, “Simple Compassion”. I was blogging through a year of spiritual disciplines and the idea of fasting to make poverty more real was appealing. On a whim, I invited blog readers to join me. You can read about that 5 day challenge here. By contributing our grocery money that we would have spent that week, our small blog community donated about $1,000 to Feed My Starving Children, a nonprofit devoted to feeding the “least of these” around the world.  So when my entire church took up the challenge during our missions emphasis this May, I was thrilled. The response was incredible. Our community was deeply affected by the simple act of going without, and we raised almost $25,000 for FMSC. Joy.

–holy moments at The Great Escape

In June, I helped lead a trip of fifty middle schoolers to Cleveland, TN, for a week of fun, bonding, teaching and worship with hundreds of other campers through The Great Escape. There is a moment captured in my brain like a picture during that exhilarating and exhausting trip. Being with middle schoolers is a “herding cats” experience 99% of the time, and we had finally ushered them into their seats as one of our meetings began. At some point during the worship set, I turned and watched my group. Tears filled my eyes as I looked across the faces of these little ones unashamedly lifting their hands and their hearts to the Lord. There is something very special about witnessing the next generations rising up to meet the Lord–both the middle schoolers and the college students and twenty-somethings that gave their time and energy as counselors. Deep Joy. 

–gospel moments while teaching

This year I had the opportunity to teach in many new places. I preached a sermon, I spoke at a few weekend retreats, I facilitated some workshops. I taught a series to our college students this summer and did my normal thing each week with our student ministry. And as cheesy as it sounds, I experienced God in every one of those settings. God made me to find Him when I ask questions and when I get to share those discoveries. He’s given me a great love for new connections and a joy at encouraging people, even ones I barely know. And I know that He’s done that for each one of us: whether it’s preparing a meal with love or leading a business with integrity or running or painting or holding a baby. Where you feel love–there He is. Where you lose track of time, lost in wonder–there He is. That is sustainable joy, and I’m thankful for so many memories of it in 2011.

–Daily joy moments in mothering

Maybe I chose joy as my word for 2011 because I find myself losing it in the mundane of mothering. Even though my kids are a ton of fun, they are also a lot of work, and at the bottom of it, I’m selfish. I like things my way in my timing and on my turf. Raising young kids has been a struggle! Choosing joy this year, though, gave me enough pause to experience those moments that I never want to forget. Gripping my camping chair in agony as I watched Charlie play goalie and make some incredible saves. Watching Cameron while holding my breath as she performed in her first “mock” gymnastics competition. Trying not to laugh (or cry) when my son Desmond asked the sweetest questions about life, faith and love. I’ve realized that mothers have incredible power. Not necessarily to control their children’s every move, but to bring joy into a home. That old saying, “when momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy…” It’s true. Being a happy mom is a very good thing, even if it takes the power of Jesus to take over my soul and make joy and peace in the midst of the mess.

–Tough mudder

There’s near-death experiences and miracles, ministry, poverty, writing, mothering…and then there’s competition. I don’t know if I should be embarassed to put this on my list but I’M NOT. Tough Mudder was an awesome race and an awesome day. It was so hard! But in the challenge there was team work, new experiences, and pushing yourself to do things you didn’t think you could do. It was cold and wet and dirty and tough and amazing. I could barely walk for four days after. But I loved my team, loved the day, and loved being a part of something adventurous, ridiculous and FUN.

So for now, I’m remembering the year that was and thinking ahead to the year that’s to come. I’m waiting and listening for what God wants to grow in me next. I encourage you to join me, focusing on a One-Word Resolution for 2012. Read more about it on Alece’s blog or stay tuned to add your one-word to our community for 2012!

 

 

 

A Priceless, Invisible Gift: Guest Post from Stacie McGeever

Written by on December 19, 2011 in Blog, Guest Bloggers - No Comments

Today’s post comes from Stacie McGeever, who reflected on a perspective-changing gift this Christmas: a chance to spend the day with Henrico Christmas Mother. She is a great friend who’s heart beats deep and full for people, and she shares her way with words in this beautiful post. It was so beautiful, in fact, that I had to send it along to Richmond Mom! Here’s an excerpt, but click on through and read the whole thing. It’ll be a gift to you this week. In the fight to keep perspective this Christmas, Stacie’s words will woo you. Check it out:

Her name is Meg.

She wears a wedding band and two hearing aids. “She’s hard of hearing,” whispers the little lady who hands me her paperwork. I discover she’s thirty-three. She strikes me as a gentle soul, and she is.  But as we walk slowly around the warehouse together, her story unfolds and I’m struck also by her fierce determination and quiet strength of character.  I’m at the Henrico Christmas Mother, a non-profit that provides new clothes, toys, books and food to 6,000 County residents each season. Volunteers are invited to be “Personal Shoppers” walking through the warehouse with each recipient as he/she selects gifts for their loved ones. (Keep Reading…)

 

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