Let it "Fall"

     This morning started out like many of my mornings do.  My alarm went off at 6:10.  I hit snooze.  My alarm went off at 6:20, and I drug myself out of bed.  I went into the kitchen and started making wheat toast with Nutella for my kids.  This was my secret weapon to get them to rise from their beds whilst it was still dark outside - Nutella for breakfast.  So basically dessert for breakfast (with whole wheat bread to make me feel a little better about myself).  Then I went to wake the 3 school kids, and my secret weapon worked.  One child drilled me about whether or not the bread had "seeds" in it, and I assured him it did not.  So they ate.  And then they started fighting.  First thing in the morning.  Before I can even see straight I am in tears because my beloved offspring cannot seem to get along - ever.  I pull myself together and pack three lunches, and toddler arises from her bed.  I present her with her dessert for breakfast, and she has a total crazy person come apart because I had the nerve to cut the toast in half.  Obviously this is the unforgivable sin of mothering so she throws her plate on the floor in a blind rage.  Nutella lands face down on kitchen floor.  So she got to clean it up and no longer got any dessert for breakfast.  Oh, did I mention that yesterday I picked up a large order of frozen cookie dough from the kids' school fundraiser?  So I had to take some stuff out of the freezer in the basement to have room for it.  I was rushing to get Ansley to Girl Scouts when I brought it home.  I pulled out a Ziploc bag with a frozen duck that was way past useful and a bag of frozen strawberries that were freezer burnt and sat them on the stove next to the fridge.  Guess who forgot to go back and throw them away?  So when I went downstairs this morning to get something for the kids' lunches I discovered a large puddle of blood and a large puddle of strawberry juice on top of the stove.  Plastic bags - You stink.  And also, why do the kids get the prizes for the fundraisers instead of the mothers?  This is unjust.  All of this occurred before 7:00 AM.
     I got the kids on the bus at 7:10, and then went on to the next thing - get every single thing in the house picked up.  Here's a dirty (or clean) little secret of mine that I used to be ashamed of, but now I realize is just good sense.  Every other Wednesday I have a sweet precious soul come over and clean my house.  When I say clean I mean all the stuff that I never get around to - dusting, vacuuming, mopping, scrubbing showers, etc.  I started having her come when I started my job that requires a lot of my time.  At first it made me feel like some kind of Stepford wife who should be able to clean her own house.  I hated the thought of people finding out I had a "cleaning lady".  I mean, they might think I'm lazy or that I am over privileged or that I don't have it all together (gasp!).  But let me tell you what having someone come clean every two weeks does for me.  It makes me pick up the entire house every two weeks before she comes (Except for the basement.  I never ask her to enter that wasteland of plastic toys and legos).  I need that accountability or stuff would just get WAY out of control.  Having her come every two weeks keeps me sane, and it keeps DHS from taking my kids away because stuff is growing in my house.  I hate cleaning.  Hate it.  I love working at church.  Love it. Because I work I can pay someone to take one thing off of my plate that has 1,345,678,789 on it.  Done!  One of my best decisions ever!  So, anyway, I was trying to get all the last minute things picked up before taking Brinley to school and heading to work.  I managed to do that, get myself ready, pack her bag and lunch and get her ready to leave by 8:45.  Off we went.  Thoughts flooded my head about how not together I am .  How I am a mess.  How I am failing at parenting. How I feel like a hamster running on a wheel who will never ever EVER catch up with her life.  After taking her to school I would still have to go to the elementary school and fix a cookie order mix up, get gas, and put oil in my car that had just alerted me it was low before I could get to work.  I dropped Little Bit off with her sweet teachers and headed back to my car.  In order to ease the pain of being a massive mess of a human being I decided to treat myself to Starbucks.  It is a bad thing when there is a Starbucks literally next door to your child's preschool!  Usually when I order Starbucks I get a skinny, decaf, soy latte of some sort.  I am the most annoying orderer ever.  And lame.  How lame does that drink sound?  Skinny cause - calories!  Decaf cause - heart arrhythmia.  Soy cause - gas and eczema.   Well, I noticed today that they now have almond milk, which is what I usually drink.  So I decided to try that out today.  Well, friends - Don't do it.  It wasn't good.  So I spent $5 on a drink that was kinda gross.  But I drank it anyway, cause I couldn't bare the thought of the $5 going to waste.  And off I went to the rest of my morning.  Good news.  This is where the play by play of my morning ends, and I get to the point!  Yay! 
     I was driving down McCrory Lane on my way back to Kingston Springs thinking about ALL THE THINGS when I looked up and realized that I was surrounded by amazing beauty.  The trees here in Tennessee right now are absolutely incredible.  It is breathtaking when you look around at them.  And as I looked at the beauty that God had created something happened.  All of the stress and worry, the failures, the not good enough, the running behind - it suddenly didn't matter.  And I had this thought run through my head.  Those leaves are the most beautiful that they will every be, and they are dying.  They are showing color and change and brilliance and God's glory, and they are dying.  And how can dying be so beautiful?  And I thought about my life.  I thought about how Motherhood is a repeated act of dying to oneself over and over and over again.  I thought about how Christ calls us to die to ourselves and the Bible repeatedly reminds us that in order to truly live - WE HAVE TO DIE.  And this death isn't a one time thing.  It is a daily, drag yourself out of bed, live your life fully for Jesus kind of dying.  And I thought about the most beautiful people I know.  And like the brilliant red and orange and yellow I was witnessing in the trees, the people I know who are constantly dying to themselves are breathtaking and something to behold.  They bring joy and light and reminders of God's goodness.  And they make the dying look not sad or painful, but lovely and purposeful.  And I am reminded that the dying doesn't have to be in my own strength.  The same God who created the trees created me.  The trees don't stress about the dying.  They just do what God created them to do.  And when I abide in Him all the dying is really all the living.  And when I try to live without the constant dying to myself - my life feels empty.  And God will never ask us to do something that He won't give us the strength to do if we abide in Him.  There are lots of things that we are not promised in the bible.  We are not promised ease of life, we are not promised stress-free days or kids that don't fight.  We are not promised health or wealth or certainty.  But we are promised this - He will never leave us.  He will NEVER leave us.  So on the days when we don't feel like we can do it - He is strong enough.   Those leaves that are dying, they will soon fall to the ground.  The trees will relinquish their beauty and release the leaves to the earth.  The letting go is always part of the process.  If the trees didn't let go of the leaves in November we would never appreciate the beauty of April.  And if we never let go of the things God asks us to relinquish - we will never see the beauty of what He has to offer in the springtime of our life.  Letting go, even of what seems like the most beautiful thing we have, is part of the process of God making us new.  And if we hold onto those things and refuse to let them fall to His will they will turn brown all over us and the beautiful will become the ugly.  And I realized that God said His creation would show us who He was, and He was showing me this morning that just like the trees if I allow His plans to rule my life then every season has a purpose.  Everything I relinquish becomes something beautiful in His time.   And if I accept His seasons instead of trying to forge my own, like the trees I can provide life and oxygen and beauty.  Fall is my favorite time of year.  Today I realized that is more true than ever.  And today I'm breathing this lesson: Let go and let yourself die.  It's the only way to truly live.  

Why I Will Be Voting Evan McMullin in November and I Hope You Will Consider Doing the Same

    



     Well, I guess that title is a little misleading.  I actually plan to vote in October during early voting.  I mean I love the idea of voting on election day, but school is out that day.  If I take my four kids with me into that booth I may end up voting for LeBron James, Spiderman or Dora the Explorer by write-in on accident.  Thank you Jesus for early voting. 
      But now on to the seriousness of this blogpost.  I'm gonna pour out my heart and beliefs here on our current Presidential race so if that doesn't interest you please take my permission to avoid this post and go with God.  But, if you are like me and have found yourself confused, frustrated and just saddened by our current political climate - read on for a dose of hope and optimism. 
     A week ago I was an undecided voter.  I mean, don't get me wrong.  I had decided that I couldn't vote for either of the main candidates in this election.  What I hadn't decided was who I would write-in when I walked into that booth.  I didn't want to take my right to vote for granted.  I know a lot of people gave their all to give me that right.  It's a right I don't dismiss or take lightly.  It's a right that many people in this world dream of having.  So I wanted to vote in this race.  But I was distraught because I didn't feel that any of my options lined up with my beliefs about how this country should be led.  And I didn't feel that I could maintain my integrity and vote for either of the candidates that I am being told by most people are my only choices.
     Enter Evan McMullin.  I have to be honest.  I had never heard of him before this week.  But I was scrolling through something online and I saw an article about him running for President.  So I clicked.   What I read intrigued me so I went to his website and started reading.  It was almost midnight and everyone else in the house was asleep.  I knew I needed to go to bed, but I couldn't stop reading.  As I read about his reasons for jumping into the race and read through his stances on all of the important issues I just got more and more excited.  Finally there is a candidate that I can get behind!  His plans and beliefs made sense.  And he was congruent in his platforms.  He appeared to be genuine and real in his concern for and love of our country.  He has a background in mission work, CIA counter-terrorism and business.  He believes that it's time for the old ways of Washington to end.  And I just kept thinking "Where has this guy been?!"  He entered late in the race because he was waiting for someone else who was better known to step into this hole in our election.  But no one did - so he stepped up.  When I listen to his interviews I hear character.  And isn't that refreshing?!
     You can do your own research about his platforms, but I will share a couple things things that meant a lot to me as a voter.  He believes in the sanctity of life, and he seems to get that it includes ALL life.  The sanctity of life of course applies to the unborn, and we need to protect them.  However, it also applies to religious minorities, refugees, immigrants, black lives, blue lives, people in poverty, homosexuals, and criminals.  If we truly believe in the sanctity of life we believe it is God's business to decide when it starts and ends and our business to protect it in the meantime.  Is this complicated?  Absolutely.  And then not really at the same time.  As McMullin says on his site, "Our respect for life is the most important measure of our humanity. From conception to death - and any time in between - life is precious and we have a responsibility to protect it."  Amen to that!  I loved his stance on refugees.  He is all for secure borders and appropriate processes.  He worked for the CIA after all.  But when asked about the refugee situation in an interview he basically said that if you want to come to this country as a terrorist coming in as a refugee is the hardest way to do that.  Coming in on a Visa is much easier.  He explained that the hysteria and misconceptions about the refugee situation are dangerous and wrong.  I'm paraphrasing here, but you can watch his interviews and read up on his website.  He has great plans and ideas on the issues.  Please read up on him if you haven't already.  This is a leader we can get behind.
     So now I will address the popular stance that voting for a third party candidate is a wasted vote.  I have heard this MANY times.  And I'm sorry, but I just don't believe it.  Do I understand the reasoning behind this line of thinking?  Yes.  I get it.  We can't have what we really want so we will settle for what we hate less.  We can't have good so we will choose the lesser of two evils.  Well, as Evan McMullin quoted in one of his videos - "A vote for the lesser of two evils is still a vote for evil."  When did our votes become so cheap that we will sell them to the system and the media?  When did we become so timid in what we actually think is right that we will ignore our own conscience and do what everyone is saying we must in order for our vote to count?  This is exactly how we have gotten to this sad point in our country where we have two terrifying and disqualified people on the largest stage in the world acting like little children.  People have chosen to vote out of fear or defensively instead of offensively and out of character and conviction.  We have bought into the view that "it is what it is" and "there's nothing we can do".  I say that's garbage.  We have a chance to put on a ballot what we want for this country.  Do you want either of the people who have the stage to lead us?  Do you know a single effective leader who is morally bankrupt?  As our governor in Tennessee said when he asked Trump to step aside last week, "I want to emphasize that character in our leaders does matter. None of us in elected office are perfect, but the decisions that are made in the Oval Office have too many consequences to ignore the behavior we have seen."  We have a chance to stand for something, and I for one am going to stand for what is true and good and right. 
     "But the Supreme Court!"  I know.  I get it.  It's the only thing that made me for one second consider voting for Trump.  But let me ask you this: How can we expect the Supreme Court to uphold our values if we won't even hold them up ourselves in this election?!  And beyond that I have little faith that a Trump presidency will deliver anything it offers.  It only takes a little research to know that neither of our candidates are truthful and steady on their stances.  So I won't vote because I'm afraid about the court.  I will vote because I believe that there is better for our country.  God calls me to holiness and personal integrity, and I will do my best to honor that.  I am responsible for my own actions.  I am responsible for what I submit when I walk into that booth.  And it isn't going to be what anyone else tells me I have to submit.  There are a lot of people in this world that I love and respect that don't agree with me here, but I don't answer to them.  I answer to God in Heaven who has made it clear in my Spirit that I cannot hitch my wagon to Trump or Hillary and maintain my integrity.  So I will vote accordingly.  And if you disagree with me wholeheartedly, guess what?  I still love you and invite you to eat at my table.  I will treat you with dignity and respect and like the God-creation that you are.  Why?  Because that's what I believe.  And if my beliefs don't carry over to all areas of my life then my beliefs aren't really my beliefs. 
     Am I a dreamer?  Yep.  Am I an idealist?  Yep.  Am I an optimist?  Yep.  Am I crazy to think that taking a stand in my own little way in my own little booth will make a difference in this world?  Maybe I am.  But, if I am then I wish there was a lot more crazy in this country.  When I leave this world someday I want to be remembered as a dreamer, an idealist, an optimist who never let this dark world beat that out of me.  I seem to remember many such people from the Bible.  I don't want to be another person who does what everyone says they have to do in order to get what they want.  I want to be one among many who are standing up and refusing to believe that is my only option.  There is so much better to expect, to aspire to, to pray for, and to believe.  It starts with me.  It starts with you.  Refuse to compromise.  Our nation is so much better than we are giving it credit for. 
    
    

Your Face in His Hands

     I still remember the jeans I had that worried me most that the boys would tease me about having a large bottom.  They were light stonewash and tapered and tight-rolled, normal late 80's early 90's fashion.  But I would be self conscious every time I wore them knowing "my butt looked big", and the boys would joke about me causing an earthquake with my footsteps.  It was 5th grade, and some boys were just mean.  I suppose they were trying to be cute or funny or make up for their own childhood insecurities by inflicting new ones onto their peers.  And it worked.  If I'm being honest I have to admit that I looked in the mirror just this week and thought "Man, my rear is out of control.  I've got to work on that."  Do I hold these words against my 5th grade friends?  Well, no.  They were children.  They had their own problems.  They hadn't had time to learn the impact of your words on others.  They didn't know they were digging deep holes into my confidence.  They were children. 
     You see - as a woman it starts really young, the subtle and not so subtle clues that if you want to have worth you must be beautiful.  From the time you start watching cartoons you learn that the beautiful princess is always the heroine.  Companies start marketing beauty products to you before you can read.  People enter their children in pageants before they old enough to attend school.  Boys start talking about your body by middle school at the latest.  And by the time you are a teenager you are oddly aware that you can't go anywhere without boys or men sizing you up as you walk by.  You can't go to the mall with your husband or sons without having to walk by a 20ft by 40ft picture of an undressed centerfold in the window of Victoria's Secret.  And we've taken God's beautiful gift of sexuality and distorted it to the point that it is unrecognizable. The internet provides instant access to our boys and men to women who show their beauty and ask for nothing in return (except their souls).  The images are abundant and the message is clear - being beautiful is everything and is to be expected.  And scars run deep and wide for women everywhere of being treated like an object.  And sometimes I just want to weep that my daughters have to live in this world.
     Then I hear the words of the man who could very possibly be our next president as they echo through every media outlet this weekend.  He talks about coming on to a married woman.  He talks about grabbing women like they are objects and kissing them without their asking.  He dismisses an entire gender as being there for his pleasure.  And I read this quote from Him from years back - "You know, it doesn't really matter what the media write as long as you've got a young and beautiful piece of ass."  Let's add on the fact that he has a long standing relationship with Howard Stern and has himself been on the COVER of playboy magazine.  Oh, and the strip clubs.  He OWNS them.  And the largest beauty pageant in the world.  Yeah, he owns that too.  He openly admits to cheating on his wives (plural).  And then he has the gall to say this - "There's no one that has more respect for women than I do."  And I shudder.  And I grieve that this is the point to which we have come.
     But I know a man who respected women.  He came to the earth born of a woman, although He could have entered in a much more glorious way.   He allowed a woman to anoint Him before His death.  He appeared first to the women after He rose from the dead and gave them the privilege of telling the good news of His resurrection to the men.  He wept with Mary as she grieved her brother's death.  He sat with the Samaritan woman at the well and broke massive cultural norms in order to connect with her.  He healed the woman who touched his robe and blessed her for her faith.   He healed a woman on the Sabbath knowing He was opening Himself up to criticism.  He taught women about the things of God (even though this was against custom) and welcomed them into His presence.  He never sized them up or put them down.  He never made them feel less than for being a woman.  He valued them.  He affirmed them.  He gave them equal standing and let them know that they mattered.  He offered them salvation and personal relationship.
     Sisters, as you read this today you undoubtedly have scars.  They may be little scars on the surface of hurtful comments that people have made about your appearance.  They may be deep, dark, life-altering scars from someone who made you an object.  They may be scars from the man you love looking onto other "beauty" leaving you feeling once again less than and unlovely.  They may be scars from 30 years ago or from 30 minutes ago.  But here is what you need to hear - The only person in this world whose opinion truly matters believes that you are lovely.  He wants to hold your face in His hands and tell you that you are fearfully and wonderfully made.  He esteems you as His perfect creation.  He loves you more than His own flesh.  He will and has gone to all lengths in order to be with you.  He doesn't care if you are at your pre-baby weight.  He doesn't care if you have a thigh gap.  He doesn't care if your hair style is on point.  He doesn't care if your face shows lines from all the life you've lived.  He doesn't care if your hair runs silver with the stories of your life.  He won't ever demean you or belittle you.  He will never treat you like an object without a soul.  He will sit with you.  He will teach you.  He wants relationship with you.  He wants intimacy with you.  He respects your womanhood.  He esteems you as His daughter.  He is crazy about you just as you are.  And He offers healing for all the wounds you have endured.
    So if the world or the President tell you that you aren't enough, just open up your Bible and read about who Jesus says you are.  We have the truth about ourselves written on the pages.  And when that voice from scripture becomes louder than all of the others in our world we will finally know it deep inside our being: We are beautiful.  Because we are His.