Reflections and Responses

Biblical scholars think that the wise men spent months, if not a year or more, looking for Jesus. Finally, in Matthew 2:10, the Word says, " When they saw the star, they were overjoyed." What a profound verse. Here's what I glean from this sentence: 1. The wise men were looking, and looking expectantly. They believed what they had been told, and then they actively pursued the fulfillment of it. When God tells you something, do you A) believe Him, and B) wait for it expectantly? Sometimes I struggle with part A. If I do decide to believe and get to the waiting-for-fulfillment part, then I probably wait impatiently, agonizing, instead of expectantly continuing forward in the direction God has given. Oh how I long to "stay on the path" and pursue what God has for me, as the wise men did, instead of getting impatient and trying to make my own way! 2. The wise men recognized the star as a sign . Sometimes when God shows up, we don't even recognize Him.

I struggle with mental illness. Like many others, I can't really define myself as falling cleanly into one category or give myself a specific diagnosis. Mine has manifested in different ways during different seasons of my life: sometimes it's anxiety, but other times it's depression, disordered eating, obsessive compulsion or a cocktail of these. Regardless, it's there, and while I experience a lot of happiness in my life, there's also some inner turmoil that I fight to keep at bay. Why am I telling you this? It's certainly not for pity or to draw attention to myself. I'm guessing that many people reading this also struggle, but others may not. For both parties, I want to take a stab at normalizing mental illness and I also want to point out a few things I've found to be true: - Mental illness is not limited to a certain stereotype. Depression doesn't just affect teenagers who prefer dark clothes and hooded jackets! It's not just the poor, ju

This motherhood thing, y'all...whew. It's exhausting. I imagine that many of you are sick of me posting about Olivia and parenting, but that's the world I'm living in right now, so that's where my head is - morning, noon and night. I adore her and am incredibly grateful for this season (more on that below), but gah! This is the third morning this week she has woken up for the day before 5am, if that helps to paint the picture of my current reality. It takes a lot of energy to keep another person alive, much less foster her development and prepare her to be a thriving person. Mothering requires being awake physically, emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. As soon as you have one phase, schedule or milestone figured out, your child is on to the next. That means that you have research, planning and training to do! Sure, a (young) child naps some, but moms typically need that time to accomplish things they cannot do with a child present. Oh, and there's

Thank you, God for the things I have been a part of and the places that you have taken me. And thank you, God, for moving me forward. Thank you for shifting my focus and resetting the stepping stones on the path. Thank you for cleansing my mind. Thank you for reshaping my priorities, wiping the fog off of my lenses, widening my perspective, causing me to have so many questions, shredding my confidence because it was rooted in the wrong things, and allowing me to get uncomfortable... because that's when I grow. Thank you for beginning to restore peace. Thank you for straightening my slumped shoulders, lifting my eyes, brightening my view, reminding me of your unconditional goodness, beginning to reveal how the pieces might fit together one day, helping me trust you, patiently reminding me of my role versus yours and affirming that you are the source of all that's good. Thank you for your unwavering steadiness through it all. Thank you that nothing is too difficult for

John and I have some decisions to make about future goals, but we just don't have clarity. This is making my obsessive planner, overanalyzing mind go bonkers. Seasons of uncertainty tend to unsettle me, though I should use them to hunker down make sure that I'm prepared. How can I fight my hamster instincts and choose to be faithful where I am instead of spinning my wheels of worry? Choose to not long for the past. When things seem gray and ambiguous, it's easy to look back and wish for an easier time. However, this is not productive and will only leave us more distracted and discontent with the present. Don't linger there. Choose to not pine for the (unknown) future. Scripture tells us to focus on whatever is true , noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy (Phil. 4:8). Any future daydreams we have are not true - they are fantasies that we construct based on our hopes. Do not give precious energy to things that aren't real yet. Ch

For the first time that I can remember, I have minimal weekly commitments. I work in an office for a few hours each week, try to attend church on Sunday, and try to make it to a playgroup on Wednesday mornings, but that's pretty much it. Oh, and I have zero evening commitments. My days consist of waking up early with Olivia, feeding/clothing/changing her, preparing meals for our family, running errands between her naps, working while she rests, and going for walks and playdates with other mommies while she is awake. It's pretty simple, and it all revolves around our home. This season has been such a change of pace for me. Historically I overjam my calendar and then stress about how in the world I am going to get it all done. Most days, I love my life, and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I cherish the privilege of being the one who is able to experience each milestone and moment - however seemingly insignificant - with my daughter. However, there are also days whe

Birthdays make me reflective, so I have been thinking back over this year. My friend Justin Woelk published a blog post on his birthday sharing some things he has discovered, and I loved it. His post inspired me to recall lessons I've learned in the past year. Here goes: 1. The most effective way to love people is to speak their love language. I finally understood this year that to love people well, I need to love them the way that THEY like to receive love. We all default to expressing love in whatever way is most convenient for us, but that doesn't necessarily translate or communicate love to the other person. John's love language is touch, so while he may appreciate me cleaning the house (an act of service) while he is at work, it doesn't necessarily show him that I love him. I need to remember to rub his neck while we're watching a show together instead. Silly example, but the principle remains: study the people you love, figure out what they love, and make

Mild days have been a rarity around here lately, so as soon as we see that glorious sun appear and the temperature isn't too frigid, my little family heads to our backyard. My husband likes to tinker with his Big Green Egg or mess in the yard, and Olivia and I camp out on a large blanket with some toys. This set-up worked well a couple of months ago when she was younger and less aware of her surroundings. She would focus attentively on whatever colorful toy I placed in front of her, regardless of how many times she had seen it, and be amused for a substantial amount of time. It was a win-win: mommy got some vitamin D and a change of scenery, and baby was entertained. Lately, however, I haven't been as lucky. Now that she is more mobile and able to engage with her environment better, our blanket time outside is more exhausting for me as I try to contain her, and it's also become more messy. Yesterday, for example, Olivia ignored the load of toys I'd carted outsid

Olivia is terrified of the vacuum cleaner. She quivers when I bring it out of the closet. Her eyes enlarge, filled with terror, and she makes a pant-like sound that I only hear her make in response to the vacuum and (occasionally) strangers. (I am determined that her fear of the vacuum is not related to "stranger danger" - I'm choosing to feel confident in my housekeeping abilities and believe that her fear does not stem from unfamiliarity with the vacuum cleaner - ha.) She's also learning how to walk. It's been fascinating to watch this infant gradually develop the muscle and motor skills that will enable her to run across a yard one day. Eleven months ago, she couldn't even hold up her own head, much less walk. Our tiny house makes a circle, and she loves walking the same circular route through it multiple times a day, holding my hands. As Liv and I made our first round for the day through the house this morning, she found herself face to face with the l

I'm in the process of transitioning off of staff at Passion City Church and Passion Conferences. I joined the team on August 23, 2010. I've spent 4.5 (stunningly) beautiful, stretching, awe-inspiring, humbling years of my life serving Jesus with some incredibly talented people who love Him. Together, we were able to be a part of things dreams are made of and see some things that I think I will still be processing years from now. I made this decision a while ago, but the transition won't be finalized until the end of this month. Last weekend while serving at Passion 2015, I couldn't sleep. It was crazy - I had been awake too many hours to count, and my alarm was going off in too few hours to count, but I was wide awake. I felt a nudge from the Holy Spirit to turn on my lamp and make a list in my journal of all of the lessons I've learned while working there - spiritual lessons, professional lessons, and just life lessons - the stuff that comes with maturing. I