Looking Back to Keep Looking Ahead

I wrote this over two years ago. The comments I make about social distancing make me laugh now, but the rest of it is a good reminder as the pace of life seemed to triple when the world reopened. All the lessons God was teaching two years ago are still applicable today. How quickly we forget! Maybe a quick jaunt down my memory lane will jog yours. Truth is, if we didn’t learn the lessons then, God will give us another chance to learn them again.

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March 2020…..

Saturday I was supposed to fly to Kenya. On mission trip. With my husband. Just us, serving together. It was going to be my first time on the African continent. There was going to be a safari and wild animals involved at some point. Even more exciting to me, I was going to get to hug the neck of a missionary friend we’ve supported from afar for almost twenty years. It was going to be the best way I could spend my fortieth birthday. The best representation of how I want my life remembered and known—serving others, loving like Jesus, always on an adventure, and of course some animal love.

Enter COVID-19.

It canceled Kenya, a camping trip, a backpacking trip with my sister to Zion National Park, probably even my mom’s visit, and maybe more. This was my last year with some of the senior girls I’ve been in small group with since they were freshmen. While my heart aches for my own disappointments, it aches doubly for the disappointments they are experiencing. It aches for all the families whose paychecks will be directly affected by this quarantine.

And I sit at home with my family and have nothing better to do but sit and ponder and think and whine. Oh, poor me. Oh, poor us. The pity party can be real.

I watch people who are still refusing to social distance. Part of me gets angry. Why should they still get to hang with their friends? Part of me gets scared—the longer people wait to social distance, the longer this thing goes on. I waffle between self-righteous justice and sulking defeat. You can’t make people do what they don’t want to do. Heck, even if it came down to a military state, I swear the surfers would still find a way to surf.

We are all innately selfish and driven toward our own self-satisfaction and self-preservation. Considering the “greater good” does not come naturally. It’s why we hoard toilet paper because what if I need it? Forget everyone else. Sometimes we’re also judgmental and self-righteous, believing our way and our words are a better source of direction and light to a less enlightened world. Hence the public shaming and calling out over social media. The pride at the root of either end of the spectrum makes my skin crawl.

Sitting at home with all these thoughts, I am forced to face the depravity and selfishness of my own mind and heart. I’m forced to consider the fact that part of me wants to give the middle finger to the government and the virus and board an airplane to anywhere out of pure rebellion. There are no distractions right now to keep me from facing that ugly, rebellious heart in the mirror of my mind. My thoughts cannot be drowned by my schedule currently, and I’m not sure I like what’s underneath. Sin. Ugly, prideful, selfish sin. Sometimes in my polished Christian world, I can forget that I’m included in the “all” of Romans 3:23. Full of sin and fallen short.

Enter Jesus. Like a breath of fresh air (Ezekiel 37:5), honey sweet to the taste (Psalm 119:103), He is transformative truth.

Because He reminds me ever so softly to look around and appreciate (Hebrews 12:28). To open disillusioned eyes to what I do have instead of what I don’t (Colossians 4:2). This is hard. Way harder than wallowing and throwing a pity party.

I started to list my blessings. Each of us have things we can be grateful for. Each of us have our own unique set of circumstances where we can find the silver linings that mean something to us, if not to everyone. Like, I can sleep in. Not everyone enjoys sleeping in as much as I do, but I really do. It’s a silver lining for me. Some of my California friends may be enjoying the sound of the rain on the rooftop, a rare sound in this part of the country. Others may be relishing the gift of unscheduled time because their life is always over-scheduled. We can all find silver linings.

It’s these small, miniscule blessings that can get lost in the noise of everyday life. Like the whisper of God Himself to Elijah (1 Kings 19:12-13), life can drown out my Best Friend’s voice. The busyness can distract from the callings my Jesus has given me. The constant need to entertain or perform can drown creativity and innovation. Now, quite unexpectedly, we’ve all been given a reason to throw all our excuses out the window. Lack of time is no longer an excuse. Being too busy is no longer an excuse. I dare say, even being too tired is no longer an excuse for some.

God, in His infinite wisdom, has created a space in time where our excuses don’t hold up anymore. If you’re like me, you might be forced to face the truth that there are things in life you just don’t want to do. There are responsibilities you know you have; you don’t want to admit you’ve been pushing to the back burner of life for all the previously listed excuses. That currently don’t exist.

God has created a space where we can be gently confronted with ourselves and make a choice to change, to create new habits, to prioritize what really matters. Then, He’s given us the time to make it happen.

That conversation you’ve been meaning to have with someone, have it.

That phone call you’ve been meaning to make, make it.

That text message you keep forgetting to send, send it.

That talk with your kids? your spouse? Make it happen.

That thing you’ve always wanted to teach yourself or your kids, do that.

Write. Read. Sing. Talk. Listen. Play. These are all ways we’ve forgotten how to connect because of being too busy, too tired, or not having enough time.

Today I laid on my couch and wallowed in my disappointment, in the loss of all the things I was looking forward to. I drowned my thoughts in meaningless television shows, watching my kids do the same on their own devices. I didn’t want to eat. Wasn’t tired enough to actually sleep until I got depressed enough to nap for an hour. It was miserable, friends.

The point? It takes work and effort to find ways to connect with others in meaningful ways. Even in my own home. Maybe especially in my own home. But we were designed by God for relationship and for work. He knew it was good for our souls from the very beginning (Genesis 2:15, 18). So, I’m going to go make myself a daily schedule, and Lord-willing, I’ll keep it. But it won’t be easy because my couch and television and cozy blankets are right there. It will be worth it because I will be a good steward of the gift of time the Lord has given during this season.

This is not how I wanted to spend the week of my fortieth birthday. This is not how I want to remember this benchmark year of life. But the hard truth is, I’ve been given an opportunity to write my own script to how the days ahead will play out in my home. An adventure my kids will remember being a part of instead of looking back on it in pictures. I want my family to look back on this time and remember it the way I wanted for Kenya—we served others, loved Jesus, made each day an adventure, and loved on some animals 😂 (We do have two dogs and two guinea pigs in this house.)

I don’t know how long this quarantine will last, but I know my callings in life haven’t changed. My sphere of influence may shrink, but that doesn’t matter because I’m only ever living for an audience of One anyway.

“Thank you, Jesus, for helping me process through to a perspective shift for today. I know more hard days are ahead, but I trust Your plan. Tomorrow will be a better day because Your truth makes the difference. May my hands not be idle, and my work continue to reflect You in me. May I never doubt the importance of Your mantle as my family watches. Thank you for being gentle with my disappointed heart. Your gracious understanding is more than I deserve. Amen.”

Count Your Blessings

This blog is both old and new. I started writing it years ago I think, but today it hits fresh as I commit to this practice once more. Challenged by a friend to join her in being grateful, I then combed through my writings to find this—a reminder of where I once was, and where I am again, and how God gently reminds us to be filled by Him, His Word, His promises, His commands. In this season of emptiness, but being filled, I need this discipline. I’m asking the Lord to give me eyes to see the things for which I can be grateful.

 

So, I've started counting my blessings—again—and literally. I've taken to the simple task of making a list of 5-10 things every day for which I'm grateful. Lists of gratefulness, lists of gifts, lists of blessings. Sometimes I jot them quickly at the beginning of my day and sometimes at the end. I even find myself speaking them out loud in my car sometimes, "I am grateful for...."

 

And once again, I'm blown away by the change this simple discipline is making in my life.

 

You see, we talk about the knowledge of the things we know. We know we have things for which to be grateful. We know we are blessed. Our head acknowledges this, but does our heart feel it? If you want to feel a thought, we all inevitably must put action to it. The Bible calls it obedience (James 1:22). His Word says to give thanks, over and over again in scripture. 1 Thessalonians 5:18 actually says it is God’s will that we do so in everything! The thoughts in my head are only that...thoughts. God knows them, but Satan doesn't, your family doesn't, sometimes even we ourselves are not cognizant of them until they have flesh and bones, until they are words written on a page or given the breath of life by being spoken out loud. 

 

Give thanks. Give is an action, not a passive thought. Give of your time by making the list. Give of your energy by saying the words out loud. Give simply but give. Obey. Even when you don't want to, especially if you don't want to. And when you can't give thanks, when life hurts too much and you can't see a single gift to count, ask a friend what they see in your life and give someone else the gift of being a blessing to you in your darkest need.

 

I have been in dark places. Sat in dark pits of my heart and mind. I chose to quest for joy some time ago. I chose to treasure hunt for joy because I love Jesus, and He says joy is a fruit of His Spirit which I know resides within me (Galatians 5:22), so I have a right to joy, my life in Christ produces the byproduct of joy, not just for others to experience, but for myself as well.  If I believe this to be true, then I need to know what joy is to experience it in my life. I need to know how God defines joy, how He sees it, how He gifts it, and how I can recognize it in my own life.

 

It is a quest for sure, maybe a lifelong one. Psalm 16:11 has proven to be truth time and time again: I have found joy to be God's presence. Anywhere, anything where you can actively acknowledge, see, proclaim the presence of the Lord, there is joy. I find Him in His creation, so I take long walks on the beach and could stare at the ocean for hours. (Well, this was a favorite. I’m trusting God to fill this area as well with something new.) I find His presence in small blessings throughout my day, but to appreciate all those blessings, I need to write them down, to capture the thought, to make it captive to daylight and pen and paper and reality (2 Corinthians 10:5). 

 

Counting God's gifts releases joy from a spiritual plane into our earthly one. I need this in my life right now. I need the power of the Spirit to be fresh wind and fresh fire in my soul here, now, in this physical world. I want the Spirit Himself to fill my sails and propel me forward into where God is leading next, so I will begin with the simplest of disciplines. I will give thanks.

 

Thank You, Father, that I know Georgia is where You alone have led us.

Thank You that I don’t have to second guess this decision.

Thank You for gifting us a home that is just the right size.

Thank You for a husband who sees me and our family in our pain and seeks to serve You first and us second.

Thank You for children who love You, Father, who are rooted firmly in Your truth.

Thank You for the school You built in California that prepared them to be light in Georgia.

Thank You for the truth of Your Word that is an anchor to the soul.

Thank You for being with me when I seek Your presence.

Thank You for the gift of Your only Son, so I can experience the gift of Your very presence with me every day.

Thank You for the blue of my pool in the backyard that reminds me of the ocean.

Thank You for the towering trees of green wrapping this home in beauty.

Thank You for white paint and daylight light bulbs to brighten a space.

Thank You for sunlight that filters through the shade to enlighten dark spaces adding beauty, warmth, and shine as it does so.

Thank You for all the ways Your creation declares Your glory, Lord (Psalm 19:1). May I be a reflection of You as well.

 

 

JOURNAL FOUND!!!:How to Eat Humble Pie

So, exactly thirteen days ago, at around 1am in the morning, after a whirlwind of a house-hunting trip in California, I went to finally turn the light out on my nightstand after a day of unpacking, laundering and re-packing for our much needed lake getaway in just a few more hours.  In that moment, I realized my journal was not in its normal bedside location.  In that moment, I had a terrifying, paralyzing realization that I had left my journal in the seat pocket in front of me on our flight to California the previous Saturday.

Mind you, I saw the journal in the seat back pocket in front of me.  The picture was there in my mind. Right there in seat 23B on flight 1251, sandwiched between a pile of magazines and other reading entertainment for the five hour flight from Atlanta.  That is visually, in my mind's eye, the last place I remembered seeing my journal, the last place I remembered touching it to put it in the seat-back pocket.

The next 96 hours of house-hunting are a blur.  So many tough decisions in such a short period of time. But at 1am, five days later, I knew I had left my journal on that airplane, and the gasp of realizing I had just absent-mindedly forgotten seven years of letters to my children almost took the oxygen out of the room and scared my husband to death.  I was nauseated thinking that journal might be lost.  I wanted to call everyone, someone, anyone on that plane!  But it was 1am, and so I had to file my first lost and found claim #243324, and try to sleep.  All I could think was, "Dear God please give me back my journal." Over and over and over, over the next three days, this is the only prayer I could think to pray.

I was desperate. Frantic, fearful, and yet oddly hopeful all at the same time.

I wrote a letter that I not only posted on Facebook for the whole world to see and share, but I then mailed and faxed hard copies of that letter to every person and entity within Delta and local news stations as well.  I contacted cleaning crew companies with which Delta contracts.  I Facebook messaged with over 30 strangers in regards to accessing information about my flight and where it had been and gone.  I emailed with probably 30 additional strangers over the past 13 days, piecing together the puzzle of the path my journal must have taken.

I was a VERY squeaky wheel, and I made quite an online ruckus.  I even had a reporter in Australia publish the story in an online news magazine!  Australia of all places!!  That published article prompted a personal phone call from a Delta higher-up assuring me that Delta was doing everything in their power to find my journal.

Well, I found my journal.  I should say the Holy Spirit found my journal.

About four days ago, I had this nudging in my spirit, "Why don't you call the hotel where you stayed?"

What?  Why don't I call the hotel where I stayed?  That's silly.  I vividly remember seeing that journal in the back seat pocket of the plane.  I have a visual memory of it.  I have no memories whatsoever of ever putting my hands on that journal after that moment.

"But it was a very emotional, very busy, very in-and-out-on-the-go trip.  You even switched rooms after the first night in the hotel." The Voice in my spirit wouldn't let up.

No way.  There's no way that journal is in the hotel.  But what if it is?  What if I just made a giant fool of myself in front of the entire Delta community?  What if I just caused a big, gigantic hoopla for Delta over nothing?  All those wonderful people who helped.  All those employees who have felt bad for not seeing it or not knowing, who I hope didn't, but may have caught some flack for this?  If it's at that hotel, how do I eat crow in front of what I've been told is THOUSANDS of people at this point in time?

My pride almost never made the call.  I was almost willing to lose my journal over a matter of pride.  If the hotel had my journal, I didn't want to humble myself in front of thousands of people and apologize for making your lives more difficult, more frustrating, more annoying in any way.

But I wanted to find my journal more.

So I texted my husband, who was on a business trip in California this week, and told him, just on a whim to check with the hotel we stayed at.  It was a whim.  NOT.  I should have known.  You'd think after almost 30 years of walking with the Lord I'd recognize His voice by now.  Nope.  Silly me, blinded by pride and fear, it took me four days of hearing His still small voice to finally ask my husband to just check with the hotel to be sure.

And there it was.  My journal!!!!!  Safe and sound and in the hands of my husband, heading back home to me in just a few short days!

And in a space in time when I should have felt ecstatic, relieved, over-the-top happy, I suddenly felt very, very ashamed and stupid and impetuous for involving the whole, wide world before thinking to check everywhere I'd been and not just the airplane.  All feelings that I very rarely feel because I'm not typically this frantic, bothered, panicked or thoughtless.  Not typically brave enough to ask for help or draw this much attention to myself either. (So many lessons learned....)

Why did we never check with the hotel to begin with?  Because I faultily, vividly remembered leaving it on the plane.

I checked with everyone else on the face of the planet, why not the hotel just to be sure?  I don't have an answer for that one.  Other than I thought I was right.  I thought my memory was right.  Turns out I was very, VERY wrong. (And my husband is now doing a little happy jig somewhere because that is something I hardly never admit to--being wrong.)

But this time I was wrong.  VERY wrong.  And in being wrong, because of social media, I effected more lives in probably a negative way than I intended.  I tried to stay gracious and understanding and grateful to everyone, so I pray that no one was offended, and when you read this, I pray you try not to roll your eyes too hard into the back of your heads.  But let's be honest, if it was me, I'd be shaking my head and saying, "Geez. This lady is out of it."  A good ole' southern "bless her heart" is definitely appropriate here.

I hope that none of you think, 'Well that's the last time I ever take something like this seriously again!' Please don't!  It was an honest mistake on my part, and people, your encouraging words and all the help all of you provided in every way is what kept me from sinking into a bigger pit than I was already starting to dig for myself.

I would be about to cry and a complete stranger would send a Facebook message to me saying they were still praying my journal would be found.  I would be about to throw in the towel and give up hope, when I'd get a follow up email from someone I don't even know who cared enough to check in because they were still hoping I'd find the journal.  And it was strangers who kept reminding me that my hope is rooted in a big God who loves ALL of us, who died for ALL of us, who has the power to return that journal to me.

Just your encouraging words and willingness to do the little things you could to help made a HUGE impact in my life.  It left an impression.

So the next time a desperate cry for anything comes across your Facebook page, please don't look the other way.  Please don't become cynical and uncaring because this Mama made a horribly annoying mistake.  Just clicking the 'Share' button is enough to pay it forward, to have a small ripple effect in the life of one person who feels a little lost in that particular moment of their life.

If social media is ironically beginning to isolate us from each other, this is one way to use it to try and truly connect in a meaningful way.

So here I am, eating a giant slice of humble pie, asking for your forgiveness for any bother I've caused in your lives, and hoping you'll agree we all do stupid things sometimes.

So a BIG THANK YOU goes out to the Delta airlines community.  A HUGE, GIGANTIC round of applause.  Once my message broke the automated wall, the people inside were understanding, considerate, empathetic, helpful, and proactive.  Every email was professional.  Every person was encouraging and spoke very highly of their colleagues.  Different employees throughout the company assured me that the cleaners, airline attendants, and gate agents were all very capable and more than willing to do a thorough job of trying to find my journal.  They all spoke so highly of each other, never bad mouthing anyone from within the company, never being discouraging in any way.  They all truly thought they could help me find the journal in their own ways.  Even Roger Salz, a higher-up from within the Atlanta Delta system, was very kind to call me personally and assure me that they had found all kinds of items for passengers in the past, and he would notify everyone he could to make sure this item was found as well.

Delta, thank you.  Thank you for your time and energy.  Forgive me for being what has turned out to be a nuisance with my online plea.  It's safe to say, you have a customer for life, and I will throw as much grace your way in my future travels as you have thrown at me over this whole journal debacle.  I really can't say thank you enough.

Thank you to everyone.  To each of you that prayed.  To each of you that encouraged.  To each of you that spared a moment to help a little.  Thank you.

Ultimately, it was God who found my journal.  Who prompted me to swallow my pride and make the call to the hotel.  Why He didn't give me that idea 13 days ago I cannot answer, but it was definitely His voice that made that thought take root.  Not one person had ever suggested I try calling the hotel we stayed in.  Not one.  Only Him.  Only my Jesus who knew exactly where it was the whole time, Who just needed me to experience some massive online humbling for some reason He has in His plan and His purpose for my life.  Time will tell.

But for now, I am grateful for many people I do not know.  Grateful for people who still pray for strangers.  Grateful that not all big, monster corporations are uncaring, inefficient, and unresponsive. Grateful for a God who saw fit to let me see all these people--the crowd of the unknown--in a different light. Grateful He used His presence, His Word (Micah 7:7), and the people in this world He created to never let me give up hope, even when I was tempted the most to do so.

Grateful to have my journal back, home safe--with a new label of my contact information freshly printed on the inside cover.