Creating a Home

Randy and I just moved into a place of our own. Yet another adventure!

When I came to visit for the month of September, the primary item on our agenda was to find a new home. Something small and homey, with room for the dog to run. Each week we looked at Craigslist and Zillow, the local newspaper and the Loomis Facebook page. We told everyone we knew and even had a local realtor friend checking on upcoming properties for us.

Finally, on the last day of September, just hours before my return to Ohio, we visited what this week became our new home.

But not without lots of minor hiccups along the way.

The current tenant hadn't yet given her landlord notice, because she was waiting for everything to be finalized with the home she had just purchased. So we didn't actually know if or when we would be moving in.

I had more than one meltdown about where I was going to work and where the dog was going to sleep and how I was going to feel about moving to California in November and living in a place that wasn't ours. Out of suitcases until this place came thru. Which prompted Randy to wonder if this was in fact the place for us, or if he should find us somewhere that we could immediately move into on or around November 10 when we'd be arriving after a 16-day road trip.

But 3 days into our trip, the last week of October while at my grandma's in Arkansas, we got word that the current tenant had given notice. We were then able to speak with the landlord, fill out a rental application, and sign a rental agreement, all over our cell phones. The place would be ours! We just had to wait until December 1.

Meanwhile, Randy had an office all setup for me in the condo he was living in, and a place for the dog to sleep. My clothes found their way into the closet and we enjoyed a comfortable three weeks together, hoping each day that the current tenant would decide to move out early so we could get in and settled.

She didn't.

In fact, she injured herself so she wasn't able to clean the place, an assignment left to her by the landlord who was out of town getting a face lift, having left another one of her tenants in charge of caring for her 35 indoor cats.

So when we finally did get into our new home we found nests of black widow spiders, earthworms creeping along the tile floors, a distinct cat smell, and two days worth of cleaning on our hands.

Nevertheless, we enjoyed cleaning side by side, creating the welcoming environment we had dreamed of.

When the day came to move in our stuff, a mix up meant Randy's suburban was not at our disposal. And there was no way we could move everything in my car.

So we went shopping! Where we found a great deal on a washer and dryer. And my credit card was promptly declined.

99 percent of the time I appreciate Capital One's fraud protection which automatically declines "unusual" purchases. But this was not one of them.

Then, at the same store, while admiring a Charlie Brown Christmas tree, we broke the one ornament that decorated its pitiful branches.

Still determined, we gathered Randy's son and another friend and made our move on Wednesday. Even while the rain poured down and my phone repeatedly alerted us to the flash flood warnings that made our new country living driveway a muddy mess and drew even more earthworms into our living room.

But here we are at last! Happily making a home. Not even letting the mountain lion that lives in our backyard deter us from loving life together!

Nutty Chicks

Almost 9 months ago, on our first day of walking across Spain together, Randy gave me this Nutty Chicks granola bar to have as my lunch.

It was the best thing I have ever tasted.

And not just because I was so ill-prepared for what turned out to be 2 days of walking through waist deep snow over and across and down the Pyrenees Mountains.

Randy told me that a woman, an ER trauma surgeon, had started the company after her coworkers loved the homemade granola that she would bring in to work every day. She started selling the granola, which evolved into these delicious bars, at farmers markets. The demand grew and soon stores were placing their orders.

A few months after I had my first Nutty Chicks bar I met the woman behind it all. It was late at night, after her shift in the ER, and she was elbow deep in granola, trying to keep up with demand.

This past weekend I met her husband. He shared with us that the people behind the Emmys had called, and then the CMAs, asking for Nutty Chicks bars for their "swag bags".

"It was huge," he said.

But it soon became apparent that his wife felt more overwhelmed than excited.

So they said "no" to the Emmys. And the CMAs. And to the company altogether. At least for now, while she continues working full time as a surgeon.

It was shocking. But I can't help but be inspired.

It's easy to hear this story and think they made a terrible mistake. To come up with all kinds of ways they could have made this work. From selling the recipe to hiring a ton of staff to quitting their day jobs in order to make it big in the granola world.

But when it comes down to it, they chose the only option that would eliminate all their stress immediately.

They said "no" to what could have been fame and fortune in order to say "yes" to what was more important -- their emotional well-being, the day jobs they feel truly called to, their relationship, etc.

Maybe some day, when they retire, Nutty Chicks will revive. At least in our local farmer's market. But for now, this delicious snack is just a memory.

you are loved

The Women of Faith tour was in Sacramento this weekend. Women of Faith is a Christian women's event that brings in amazing Bible teachers and musicians to inspire women to deepen their relationship with God. This year's theme was "From Survival to Revival", challenging and encouraging us to not just go through the motions of life, but to leave behind whatever holds us back in order to embrace every moment as the gift that it is.

Randy has 3 brothers, two of whose partners went with me to the event. Robert is married to Suzanne. And Roy is engaged to a different Suzanne. Kelly, Robert's daughter's mother-in-law, also joined us. And the time of fellowship with these 3 women was the highlight of my weekend!

On Friday night of the event, the emcee asked us all to take out our cell phones. "Now text 2 of your girlfriends who aren't with you and tell them that they are loved," she said.

Many of us wriggled uneasily in our seats. Just randomly text a friend and say, "You are loved"? Isn't that a little weird?

"Just do it," the emcee said.

So we all dutifully grabbed our phones and texted the first 2 women who came to mind.

"There are 8,000 women in this arena," the emcee said after giving us a minute. "That means 16,000 women just received the message that she is loved."

How cool is that?! And how many of the women who received that message needed it at that exact moment?

I immediately received a text back from one of my girlfriends, telling me I was also loved (and reminding me that it was 3 hours later in Ohio... it might take me a while to get used to the time difference!).

My other friend has yet to acknowledge the text. But that is okay. The point wasn't to get a response. The point was simply to remind the women in our lives that they are loved. Loved by me and loved by God.

Would you add to the number of women this weekend getting the message that they are loved? I know it's a little weird and a little awkward, but it just takes a second and it might be exactly what she needs to hear right now. So just grab your phone and text two people these 3 words: "You are loved."

flexibility

We learned right away we were going to have to be flexible on this journey.

The week before we were to leave, my car was in the shop to fix the minor scrape I got two months ago when I got hit in a parking lot, and to make sure it was in fact minor and not hiding something major.

It did end up being minor, but they estimated it taking until the day before we were to leave to get done.

Which meant that we wouldn't be able to get a hitch put on my car to pull the u-haul until the day we were to leave.

Which meant borrowing my dad's truck in the middle of harvest in order to pick up the u-haul so we could get it loaded while the car got worked on, and pushing our take off by at least half a day.

Then Randy missed his flight to Ohio.

Luckily the next flight had him landing just an hour later. His luggage, however, took the scenic route, through airports he never even flew through, and we had to pray it would arrive before we departed.

It did. In the middle of the night. With a loud banging on the door and a need for a signature.

The trip itself was smooth sailing compared to this rough start. But I'm glad we had it. Because it reminded us that whatever came up we would be able to handle it. That we might have to be patient. That our schedule might get changed. That we can see the delays and detours as opportunities, rather than annoyances.

You see, because we couldn't leave until Tuesday afternoon, I got to go to the airport with my little brother (who was in town visiting for the weekend) and my parents on Tuesday morning. We had the car ride and breakfast to spend time together.

And because we didn't get an early start, there were other times in the trip when we decided that we could also wait until noon to begin our driving day. Days that one or both of us had to work. A morning just hanging out with my niece Riley. Lingering over breakfast or taking Jovi (my dog) for a long walk before we spent the rest of the day in the car.

And because Randy missed his flight, my nieces had time to put on their Halloween costumes after church to go with me to surprise him at the airport. Followed by a trip to Foy's in Fairborn where we could buy them candy since we would be missing out on trick or treat.

The flexibility and patience of this trip was similar to that of our walk across Spain. Never knowing from one night to the next where we would be sleeping. Taking much longer than most to make the journey. More often than not stopping short of our daily goal. Intentionally adding miles, even when our deadline for being home was approaching.

And enjoying every step of the way!

home at last!

We made it! 16 days, 11 states, 4000 miles... and we're finally home!

I love the motto of my new town: "A Small Town Is Like A Big Family".

It's true of the place that I grew up and it feels true of my new home as well.

It was also true of our journey to get here. Along the way we visited my grandmother in Arkansas, my cousins (even some I'd never met!) in Oklahoma, my brother and sister-in-law and niece in Texas, and Randy's mom in New Mexico.

We are blessed that our family stretches all the way from Ohio to California!

Initially I chose not to write each day of our trip (like I did when we walked across Spain) because all of the last minute arrangements were a little overwhelming, from packing to getting the car and u-haul ready to saying so many goodbyes.

But after a couple of days I began to appreciate being able to be present to our adventure, rather than focusing on what to write and when.

I don't think I'm alone in this challenge. Figuring out how to balance being present to an experience with documenting it -- whether that be in words or selfies or something else entirely.

As a writer I feel I should have written more. But as a partner I'm grateful that my energy was focused on enjoying every moment with Randy and the family and friends and places we visited.

I think I chose the better way.

But we did take lots (lots!) of photos, so perhaps in the coming days I'll share more of our journey, now that we are home!

everything is beautiful

Seven months ago Rand and I stayed at this very bare bones albergue. Which was as stark on the inside as it was the outside. The beds were barely as wide as my hips.

But what I remember most about this stay is not the lack of luxury. What I remember is that as we prepared to leave in the morning Rand said, "Love makes everything more beautiful, doesn't it?" And when I looked at him like he was crazy he pointed at the yellow (flowers? plant? bush?) growing out of a rock pile across the street.

This memory came to me today as I was thinking about how beautiful Ohio is right now. How yellow. And orange, red, and green.

I'll miss Ohio's colorful seasons. (California was already brown when I visited in September.) But I'm looking forward to the challenge of looking with new eyes. Eyes that see -- that know to look for -- beauty in all things!

Do I have the courage to keep showing up?

Two people I care about have been "caught" in wrong actions this year. And have responded very differently in their relationship to the church.

The first was engaging in an extramarital relationship. And when confronted, stopped going to church. Labeled that particular church judgmental. And started looking for a new church filled with people who would be excited to support and worship with the new young couple, ignorant of their history.

The second is facing criminal charges for possessing child pornography. And when confronted, showed up the next Sunday morning in desperate need of prayer. The church responded with an outpouring of love and support, and is seeking to take whatever steps necessary to make themselves a safe and welcoming place for all, which includes full disclosure.

When I was going through my second divorce, I was the person who stopped going to church. Who started looking for a new church where no one knew my story. So I wouldn't have to confront my pain in community.

When I was in college, I attended the church that was a safe space. No one pretended to be perfect, but it even went beyond that. We fully embraced ourselves as a broken people, seeking to listen and respond to God in our lives and in the world. Together.

These situations have taught me how beautiful it is to be in a place where you can be who you are. Without having to hide for fear of condemnation. And how painful it can be to be so afraid of judgment that you'd rather turn your back on your community than invite them into your struggle.

Our conversations tend to focus on how the church should respond in these situations. And, more often than not, how the church gets it wrong.

But what about how we as individuals should respond when confronted with our own shortcomings?

It takes a great deal of courage and humility to keep showing up. And we do face the possibility of being judged and condemned by a people who are called to love. But we are also doing a disservice to the church if we never challenge them to be who they say they are. And we miss out on the beauty and healing that comes when the church gets it right.

church shopping

In the three weeks that I've been in California, Randy and I have visited three very different churches.

Small, medium, and large.

With a simple organ and piano.

With guitars and flashing lights and internationally recorded artists.

One with its own campus. Another that rented a room for Sunday mornings.

One with buckets, another with plates, and the third with purses to receive the offering.

Where we knew lots of people.

Where we knew no one at all.

With street parking.

With huge parking lots, volunteers directing traffic, and private parking for first time visitors.

And this is what I've discovered:

It's not easy to find a new church home.

I really liked the sermon at one. The warm welcome at another. And the informal nature of the third.

But where I liked the sermon, I didn't care for the music. Where we received the warmest welcome, the sermon left me confused. And in the atmosphere where I felt most comfortable, the room was way too dark.

Doesn't the Bible say that Jesus is the Light???

No church is perfect. Even the church where I've been attending most of my life has things about it that I don't care for. But through time, community is built. Family is created. And you come to think of it as home.

I don't know where Randy and I will end up. Maybe at one of these three. Maybe at one we haven't visited yet. But I do know that finding a place to worship on a regular basis is important to me. And will require more than one visit to feel at home.

When the Game Stands Tall

Why would anyone voluntarily go up against the team with football's longest winning streak? According to Del Oro Head Coach Casey Taylor, "You get better playing the best."

And why would De La Salle, that winningest team, bother with a team like Del Oro? In the words of a De La Salle fan, whose brother is one of their longtime coaches, “Our programs are similar… it’s not about football.”

Having listened to a couple of the Del Oro pep talks the night before game day I can attest to the truth of this. Talks that focus on goals, character, discipline. On and off the field.

“So what if they have a movie out?” Coach Taylor said Thursday.

I imagine Bob Ladouceur, former head coach of the De La Salle Spartans, would have said the same thing were the circumstances reversed. In fact, he seems like the kind of guy who would say to his team, “So WE have a movie out. Who cares? That is not the measure of our success.”

I haven’t seen the movie yet, but reading the book When the Game Stands Tall tells me that the De La Salle Spartans have beat plenty of teams that towered over them, the way they towered over Del Oro on Friday night. Because they cared about one another, they played with heart, and they worked hard, together, as a team.     

And while the home team didn’t pull out an upset on Friday, instead sending De La Salle home with another big win under their belts, they did inspire an estimated 8,000 people to come together as a community to watch a little high school football.

And anything that builds community is a success in my book.

What Coach Lad did with the De La Salle Spartans should challenge us, not to be awed or intimidated by a Catholic school's football team in California, but to live exemplary lives right where we are. 

It was incredibly inspiring to see Coach Ladouceur, standing right there on the field before us with the opposing team Friday night. But so was hearing the Del Oro coaches teach their kids that “fear” stands for: Face Everything And Rise. 

Because they've figured out the same thing Coach Lad did. That they are in the position to influence these kids, and help them grow, not from boys into football players, but from boys into men.

The Natural World

Everyone in Placer County, California, loves Randy. It is amazing the love and support for him, and us. Everywhere we go, from the grocery store to the high school football game, from church to the brewery, people have heard about us walking across Spain together and want to hear it again direct from us.

It has been so much fun retelling and reliving the Camino!

But also exhausting.

So this morning we escaped the social world and went for a long walk. Just like old times!

It was the perfect day for it. A cool 65 degrees at the start and a beautiful 85 by the end, made all the more perfect by sticking our hot feet in the cold waters of the American River.

The only negative to the whole adventure was the smoke-filled air from the neighboring forest fires. Not close enough that we have to worry about them, but close enough that the air tastes like your face is pressed deep into a wood stove. The smell is especially strong first thing in the morning.

We were discussing the fires yesterday with some friends. About how they are nature's way of taking care of the earth.

It is easy to think of forest fires as a bad thing. But they are actually necessary for new growth, proper nutrients, healthy habitats for animals, and the necessary thinning of overcrowded forests.

(Think about this like purging your Facebook friends list. Eliminating the relationships that are no longer life-giving makes more room and time for new and deeper relationships, and for nurturing the growing relationships you already have.)

Not surprisingly, the problem with allowing nature to takes its course in the forest is a human one. People have moved into these woodland areas. Therefore, allowing the fires to burn out on their own would mean the loss of many homes and communities.

Of course this is just my very simplified version of the issue. But hopefully a reminder that we need to take care of our beautiful earth AND the people in it.

With special thanks to the firefighters who specialize in controlling and containing the wildfires in California!

An unexpected love story...

The last thing I expected to learn from my walk across Spain was that I didn't trust God.

Two years ago, after my second divorce was finalized, I began to doubt that love could last a lifetime. Or, at least, I began to doubt that it was ever going to be in the cards for me.

I didn't recognize at the time that losing faith in the forever kind of love was really losing faith in God.

Shortly before going to Spain I began dating a man who I quickly and easily fell in love with. (Falling in love has never been a problem for me; it's the believing it will last forever that is the problem!)

This guy made it especially easy to love and be loved. Our relationship felt perfect. I couldn't imagine being happier.

And even though I had a hard time imagining I would ever be ready to marry him. Or anyone for that matter. I didn't see anything wrong with that.

But then I went on the Camino.

And met Randy within minutes of beginning my walk.

It wasn't love at first sight for either one of us. (He was even more cynical about love than I was, if that's even possible.)

But slowly, day by day, walking together, talking together, making decisions together, seeing the best and worst of each other, our walls began to come down. Catching us both completely off guard. And we started to have hope. And hope turned into love.

Yet, the first time he asked me to move to California I was nowhere near ready to think about forever together. And when he offered to move to Ohio I wasn't ready for that either.

I was starting to see that it would take way more faith for me to get married a third time than it did the first.

A faith I didn't have.

It wasn't until a friend of mine, also divorced, began talking about getting remarried that I realized God and I had unfinished business.

"Are you jealous?" I felt like God was asking when I had concerns for my friend. And I realized I was. Not of their relationship or upcoming nuptials, but that they trusted God enough to believe their love could last a lifetime.

I finally asked God if I could trust Him that much. Because, for the first time in a long time, I wanted to.

And God reminded me that He put Randy in my path for a reason. Not so I would put all my faith in Randy. But so I would put all my faith in God.

It was then that all my concerns, fears and doubts, washed away. And I knew I was ready. Ready to trust God completely. Ready to say yes to love. Ready to move to California.

I make the choice...

"I've made the choice to move to California," I said near the end of my sermon on "choices and consequences" a couple weeks ago.

Immediately my 5-year-old niece Tessa burst into tears. Which continued throughout the rest of the service. (Who knew the kids even listened to the sermon?!)

Afterwards she came up to me and said, "When you said you made that choice, to move to California, that made me sad. I make the choice for you to stay."

I explained to her that when you get to be my age you get to make your own choices. But that also means you are responsible for the consequences of your choices, which include missing out on family dinner nights and other fun times with her and her siblings in order to move forward with the plans God has for me.

It's a hard lesson to understand when you're 5. (Or almost 35.)

Especially when my choices directly affect her.

But I hope in the long run she will learn from this to not be afraid of making the hard choice when you know it is the right one. To not be afraid of the "what ifs", or fear change, or focus too much on what can no longer be. And instead to be brave and see all of the possibilities that open up when we take the next step forward to follow our dreams.

Real Friends Say "No", Part 2

A story to illustrate yesterday's conversation about boundaries...

I have a very good friend who was once going through a hard time. Job, health, relationships, and finances were all weighing him down.

He had been there for me during a hard time, and I wanted to be there for him too.

So when he came to me, excited about the new job he had just applied for, I shared in his excitement.

The truth is, I didn't think it was the right job for him. While he was fully qualified for the position, it seemed too political and not creative enough for his gifts. I had concerns about how it would affect him spiritually, relationally, mentally and emotionally. But he came to me looking for a friend to share in his excitement. Not one who would tell him it would never work. So I celebrated with him and kept my concerns to myself.

That is, until he asked if I would be willing to serve as one of his references.

And I had to say "no."

Actually it came out more like this: "You can list me as a reference. But if they call me I am going to tell them not to hire you."

Not very sensitive of me, I know.

He was obviously shocked, and rightfully hurt by my blatant rejection.

But because he respects me and our friendship, he allowed me to share my concerns. And because I respect him and our friendship, I left the decision of what to do about the job up to him.

It wasn't going to change our relationship if he took the job or not. It wasn't going to change our relationship whether or not he listed me as a reference. But it could have changed our relationship if we hadn't respected each others' boundaries.

He honored my boundary - that in order to be true to my word I couldn't recommend him. And I honored his - that the choice of whether to take the job or not was his alone.

In the end he didn't take the job. Because my concerns pointed him to his own uneasiness about the position.

But shortly thereafter, another job came along. This one perfectly suited for him. Where he could be creative and independent, experience growth and challenge. And truly make a difference. (He didn't ask me to serve as a reference for this one!)


Our friendship was made stronger through this experience of exercising boundaries and trust. And in the future I know that if I need help in wisdom and decision making I can call on him. Because he will be honest. Blatantly so if necessary. And I will give him the same respect.

Real Friends Say "No"

"When times get rough you'll find out who your real friends are."

I've been thinking about this statement lately. Which implies that your "real friends" are the ones who continue to hang out with you and stand by you during hard times. But I've started to wonder: what if it isn't true?

After all, aren't we all entitled to have boundaries? Boundaries that protect us emotionally and spiritually, physically and relationally. Boundaries that honor our time, our resources, and our hearts.

I am terrible at setting boundaries. In fact, for the few of you who I have ever said "no" to, feel blessed. It means that I love you and I trust you. In Tessa's words: "the most-est."

But not setting boundaries means I can end up feeling resentful and taken advantage of. It means I can get emotionally involved in problems that have nothing to do with me. I can get confused when someone gives me advice that is completely against what God is telling me. Or angry when a person continues to be critical of my choices (because even though I've never asked their opinion, no boundaries means I've also never asked them to keep it to themselves).

Of course we want to be there to support our friends when life is unfair to them, or they have made poor choices and are reaping the consequences. And of course we want our friends to be there for us when it feels like everything and everyone is coming down against us.

But that isn't always the best choice for us or our friendship.

Sometimes the best choice is to give the relationship space. To lean on God instead of one another. Or to label certain subjects of conversation "off limits". To not get emotionally tangled up in someone else's issues, and to not allow them to get tangled up in ours.

Boundaries don't give us permission to talk about people behind their backs while we are giving that relationship space, or to be critical of one another face to face expecting the relationship to bounce back once the crisis is over.

But a true friendship will respect boundaries, and not see them as rejection.

do the thing

Last night I spoke to our local Lions Club about my walk across Spain.

I've had lots of opportunities to share about my experience, and each time it comes out a little differently. But I think I've finally figured out what I've been trying to say:

DO THE THING

The thing that stirs in your heart. The thing that gives you joy. The thing you long for. The thing you know you are made to do. The thing you are afraid of. The thing you would do if you won the lottery. The thing you would do if you only had one month to live. The thing you are most passionate about. The thing you want to be remembered for. The thing. Whatever it is. Do it. Do the thing.

I know not everyone wants to walk across Spain. And I don't think everyone should. But I know that everyone wants to do something:

Adopt. Host a foreign exchange student. Be the president of the Lions Club. Donate food to the local pantry or towels to the local shelter. Run with the bulls. Canoe down the Amazon. Graduate. Pay off student loans. Learn to read. Join a book club. Protest for peace. Fight for your country. Quit a job. Start your own company. Take a photography class. Bungee jump. Sing. Dance. Fly. Move. 

No matter how big. No matter how small. Whatever it is. Do it. 

DO THE THING. 

That is the message I have to share.

And here is some added inspiration: One year ago TODAY I attended a lecture in which a retired teacher shared her experiences of walking el Camino de Santiago. And I decided that "now" was as good a time as any to do the thing.

Here I am. A mere year later. And now I... ME... I am the one sharing the experience of my own walk. Hoping to inspire others. Like she inspired me. To do the thing.  

 

Frozen Choices

Spoiler alert! If you haven't watched the movie Frozen, go buy it and watch it before continuing!

Ever since watching the movie Frozen for the first time (and the 20+ times that have followed), my sister-in-law has been waiting for me to write a sermon about it. 

She knew it wouldn't be hard. From being the first Disney film with a female director, to having a princess NOT rescued by a handsome prince in the end, there is much talk about this movie. And many sermons have already been written on the subject.

Since Sunday was my last sermon at my home church for the imminent future, I decided it was finally time for this message. And to invite my 5-year-old nieces up front to sing "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" and "Let It Go" for everyone's enjoyment. Well, mostly everyone. 

[Giving a 5-year-old a microphone takes a lot of faith. But they did awesome. Even Tysen who refused to sing and had her hands over her ears the whole time.]

The sermon was about choices, decisions, and consequences. Here is a quick summary of the "Frozen parts": 

Elsa's parents, the king and queen, choose to lock Elsa up so she can’t hurt anyone with her powers to produce ice and snow. It’s a choice made with good intentions because they want to protect Elsa while she learns how to control her powers. But it comes with the consequences of isolating Elsa from her family and her community, and teaching her that what makes her unique is not to be celebrated.

Elsa chooses to run away after her parents die and her abilities are exposed to the community. It is again a choice made with good intentions because it lines up with what she was taught, to protect others from herself, but again it results in her isolation and alienation and feeling like she can only be herself when she is a safe distance from others.  

Elsa’s younger sister Anna [which Tessa frequently reminded me from the congregation is pronounced "Aahh-na"] chooses to accept a marriage proposal from a prince she just met. This ends up being a really bad choice. In some fairy tales this works out for the princess, but not so for Anna ["Aahh-na"]. Prince Hans turns out to be a bad guy with bad motives which are revealed after she gets to know him a little better.

Anna ["Aahh-na"] has to choose whether to save herself or save her sister. In the end, she chooses to sacrifice herself in order to save her sister, and in turn she ends up saving the entire kingdom. This act of true love is the very best choice, even though it seems to come with the consequence of losing her own life. But lucky for Anna ["Aahh-na"], her choice to save her sister was the act of true love needed to save her own life. 

You can see how we sometimes have to choose between what is good and what is bad, or what is good and what is good, or what is good and what is best. And that regardless of what we decide, there are always consequences, positive and negative.

Christian tradition tells us that Jesus made the same sacrifice for us that Anna ["Aahh-na"] did for Elsa. [I love that we get to be Elsa in this analogy, the beautiful Queen with special abilities and unique qualities.] And that even though it meant a gruesome death for Jesus, it was still the very best choice.

allowing others to make a difference

I spent last week in Athens, Ohio, with a friend of mine. She had just had surgery and asked if I could spend a few days with her helping out.

I know how hard it was for her to ask for help. It reminded me of just a few years ago when I broke one of my ribs in a 4-wheeling accident. I couldn't drive or carry anything, clean my house or any of the other ordinary things that we do on a daily basis without thinking about it. I had to rely on my coworkers to drive me to work and doctors appointments, carry my purse and anything else over five pounds I needed.

I hated feeling helpless and I hated asking for help.

But I know my coworkers didn't mind helping. They were glad to help. And last week so was I. Because I knew my friend was sore and tired and frustrated. And even though I couldn't take any of those feelings away, I could help with the kids, the laundry, the house, and try to take her mind off things with much needed girl talk.

Yesterday I got a card in the mail that said, "You make a difference in others' lives, and you allow them to make a difference in yours."

It reminded me that I am here on this planet to love others. But so is everyone else. And maybe I am the person they are called to love. Therefore, if I don't allow others to love and care for me, I'm denying them their purpose. I need to be just as good at receiving love as I am at giving it.

going nowhere

Kasen: "I hate hiking. We aren't even going anywhere."

You will have to forgive Kasen's attitude. We were "forcing" him to hike on a morning when it was already 83 degrees, with an added 73% humidity. And it was true--we weren't going anywhere. We were simply wandering the trails until we got tired and turned around.

But it made me pause. And think. Because hiking is my absolute favorite thing to do.

How could I love something so much that gets me nowhere?

Granted, some hikes have destinations. The bottom of the Grand Canyon. The top of Mount Whitney. A waterfall or hot spring. But most times I hike simply to hike.

I love feeling the earth beneath my feet. I love the green plants and towering trees. I'm not a fan of bugs but I can appreciate the architecture of a spider's web as long as I'm not walking right into it. I love listening to creatures I cannot see, making their way thru leaves and debris. I love the distant sounds of cars and planes, reminding me that I am my own mode of transportation. I love the space it gives me to think and dream and breathe, or to empty my mind of everything.

So hiking, for me, is not actually about getting anywhere. In fact, I think it is a gift to have no idea where you are going to end up and still be able to enjoy the journey.

Because success is not always having an end goal. Or everything turning out the way we planned. And we don't have to wait to arrive in order to be happy. We can be happy every step of the way, if we begin to see the ordinary moments for the extraordinary moments that they are, even if they don't appear to lead us anywhere. Even if we have to turn around or begin again. Because it is in the dailiness of life that we see who we really are.

And I for one want to be someone who can enjoy life, whether I am going somewhere or nowhere at all.

To Speak or Not to Speak...

I've taken a liking to a show called Garfunkel and Oates, about two female comedians. It is pretty stupid but it makes me laugh. Which is almost always a good thing.

So there is this one episode in which the girls decide to go on a double blind date and not talk at all. In fact, they decide to keep dating these guys and see how long it takes for the guys to notice they never speak. And the girls find it strangely liberating to not have to contribute at all.

Which is kind of what God and I have been wrestling with lately.

When to speak. And when to remain silent.

While Facebook and Twitter and whatever else you kids are using these days thrive on making us believe that what we want to say should be said, and said for all the world to hear -- it simply isn't true.

And I'm not talking about telling people what you had for breakfast or that you are on your way to the grocery store. Maybe no one really needs to know that, but at least you aren't hurting anyone by saying so.

But sometimes our opinions are hurtful. Or really don't matter. And should be kept to ourselves. Especially if we are putting our noses into someone else's business where we weren't invited. Especially if our opinions are said to tear people down instead of building them up. Especially if they aren't said in love.

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love. 1 Cor 13:1-7 MSG

Did you take time to read that passage? It says even if I'm speaking straight out of the Bible, and even if my opinion is 100 percent right, but I don't speak in love, I would be better off keeping my mouth shut.

There have been many times, just this week alone, that I have wanted to express my opinion. Told someone they were wrong. Or told them they were right. Gossipped. Or given my take on an issue, even though 100 others had already done so and I had nothing new to say.

But this week (okay maybe not the whole week, but at least the last 3 days) I have kept my mouth shut. And found it strangely liberating.

In a Quaker Meeting everyone is invited to preach every Sunday. As prompted by the Holy Spirit. And that is the key -- to listen to whether this is something God wants you to share with everyone, or if it is something for you alone.

What would happen if we carried this practice over into our everyday lives?

smoothed edges

Yesterday during her children's sermon, Linda talked to the kids about how rocks are rough, with jagged edges. But through adversity--being tossed around by the water and the waves--they can be made smooth. Likewise, God can use the challenges and obstacles we face in our own lives to make us more like him.

Former Buffalo Bills quarterback Jim Kelly was a hot topic last week. (Is it a "coincidence" that I visited the Pro-Football Hall of Fame for the first time recently???) Not only because of his success on the football field. Or his battle with cancer. But also because of all the good he has done for families and children battling degenerative diseases like the one his son died from.

A couple of years ago, while crafting a devotional book, I was directed to an interview that Jim and his wife gave. In it Kelly talked about his son's diagnosis, the hardship that followed, how his family had to learn to stop treating Hunter like he was going to die (even though they knew he was going to) and start showing him what it means to live (which likely contributed to him living 6 years longer than doctors expected). And Jim's devastation when his son died in the hospital 5 minutes before Jim could get there.

Obviously he wouldn't have chosen this disease for his son or their family. But instead of allowing that reality to make him bitter, he used their experience to reach out to other children and families affected by Leukodystrophies.

"My son Hunter made me the man I am today," Kelly said.

And that is a man after God's own heart. A man who has taken the challenges life has given him and used them to make a difference.

It is not part of my faith DNA to believe that God makes bad things happen. But it is my belief that he can make us stronger if we choose to trust him when they inevitably do.

I can see God using my own experiences--my mistakes, my hurts, my heartaches and my hopes--to encourage others. And I believe he wants to do the same for you.

So if you find yourself tempted toward bitterness, remember that when you offer those rough edges to God he can make them smooth. And use you to give hope to the people you walk with.