To BE or not to BE

     This Christmas has presented a problem for me.  I have found myself not wanting to buy my kids ANYTHING.  As the season approached, the stores advertised, and everyone started asking them what they wanted from Santa this year all I could think was "I don't want to buy them anything".  Now there is one very obvious reason for this:  They don't need anything.  Sure there are things they could use.  There are things they would enjoy.  But did they NEED these things?  Not really.  They are so fortunate to have their needs met and then some.  I was bothered by the idea of getting them more things that they wouldn't appreciate.  I have been working all year at trying to simplify our home.  I feel like a slave to all of the things we have and have been donating them by the trash bag full.  And we still have too much.  Having four children who are different genders and ages you just wouldn't believe all of the stuff you can accumulate.  I am convinced that even if Brian and I never bought our kids anything they would have too much.  They are surrounded by family and friends who love them and shower them with gifts on every Birthday and Christmas.  Am I complaining?  No!  We are so extremely fortunate to have these people in our lives, but my problem still remained.  I just didn't want to get them anything.  And while the reasons of materialism and space restraints played into my lack of drive I realized last week that something else was at play in my hesitance.  And that is what this post is really about.
     Last Tuesday I was at home with Brinley.  She goes to preschool 3 days a week and is with me 2 days.  She has started asking me to play with her a lot when we are at home alone.  All of her siblings are at school, and she wants a playmate.  Well last Tuesday I sat down to try to play with her in the basement, and I COULDN'T.  I don't mean I didn't want to or didn't try to.  I mean I physically and mentally could not turn off the to do list in my mind long enough to play with my daughter for 5 minutes.  As I sat there and tried to play with her all I could think was "I need to wrap that present.  I need to vacuum this carpet.  I have to check that email for work.  I've gotta figure out what we are eating for dinner.  When am I gonna take our Christmas card picture?"  I pretended to play while I actually cleaned up anything within arms reach while she played next to me.  There was too much to do for me to play with stuffed animals.  I actually physically felt myself getting anxious because I was losing valuable time.  And then it hit me.  I have become so enslaved to my productivity that I can't play.  I don't play with my kids anymore.  I mean every now and then I do, but it's about 1 out of every 15 times they ask.  And I haven't always been this way.  When Ty and Ansley were little I played with them a lot.   I filled my days with playing with them.  But somewhere along the way the demands of my life with a large family became so many that I quit playing.  I am doing a bible study right now on Sabbath and rest and all I can think is "When am I supposed to rest?".  I even get irritated when it seems that the people around me are resting too much.  And why am I mad?  Because I feel there is no rest for me.  Even when I sit still I can't BE STILL.  There is a reel in my mind that never stops of ALL THE THINGS.  And believe me, there are a lot of things.  Four kids, a husband, a home, a ministry - these are a lot of things.  And they are every one good gifts from God.  But I have let myself get into a pattern of worry and stress that doesn't let me enjoy the blessings with which I am surrounded.  December is the perfect storm for this problem because the demands and activities and special days are even more than usual.  And it hit me last week when I COULDN'T play with my 3 year old daughter that the reason I didn't want to buy my kids presents was because I knew in the quiet places of my heart that what I needed to give them was MYSELF. 
     I mean I thought I was giving them myself.  I basically live and breathe to meet their needs.  I spend my days making sure they are cared for.  I make their lunches and give them baths.  I wash their clothes and wash their dishes.  I sign the forms and make the party food.  I take them to the doctor and cut their fingernails.  I help with the homework and plan the birthdays.  I show up, and I make sure stuff gets done.  And I know those are all good things.   I know that.  I know that I'm not a bad mother.  I know that my kids are blessed to have parents who take care of them.  But the ache I felt in my soul last week was the realization that while I was spending all of this time ON them I was failing to spend enough time WITH them.  I take for granted tomorrow and the next day.  And I realized that I often do the same thing with God.  I am a minister.  I work FOR God.  I do lots of things that are good things FOR God.  I strive and strive in my life FOR God.  But I rarely take the time to just BE with Him.  BEING is just hard for someone who has let their life get so far ahead of them that the thought of stillness feels like a sin.  When you are so busy that you feel guilty if you put your feet up and rest there is a problem.  We have the best porch ever.  It is covered, looks over our beautiful backyard, and has a swing that is actually a twin size bed.  It is glorious.  And people always say when they see it "Oh wow.  I bet you spend a lot of time out there."  Nope.  I don't.  I should.  I want to.  But I don't.  Because I can't make myself be still long enough to enjoy it.  And I look at these kids in my home.  They are growing so fast.  I feel like I became a mom just yesterday, and it has been 11 years.  Time is crazy like that - especially when you allow yourself to be harried.  And I just wonder how I am going to feel when they are grown and gone.  What will I remember?  What will I cherish?  Will I cherish the clean kitchen and the nutritionally balanced lunches?  Will I cherish the to do lists and the hurried bedtimes because I have so much to do?  Will I cherish the laundry and demands?  Or will I cherish the moments I sat with them?  Will I cherish the times we cuddled and played?  Will I cherish the moments I let myself just BE with them?  I have a sweet and precious friend who buried her 18 year old son a few days after Thanksgiving.  She got 18 Christmases with her baby, and then he was gone.  And I ache for her, and I think I know what she would tell me about my checklists and busyness. 
     A week ago I made a decision that I would BE with my kids this Christmas.  Instead of turning on Rudolph for them and going to clean something, I would cuddle with them and watch.  Instead of planning a full weekend we would make cookies together without being on a schedule.  Instead of letting all the demands of December OWN ME, I would own this Christmas with my kids and make memories of BEING together.  And it might mean some things slip.  I won't bring the most impressive dish to the party.  We might not make it to see Santa.  We won't be able to squeeze in all the Christmas outings that adorn my Facebook feed.  I won't have the perfectly put together house.  I might not even get out a Christmas card.  Some things might fall through the cracks.  And that's okay.  Because this year my kids will get some presents from Santa.  Thanks to Amazon I was able to rally.  But the gift I am giving my kids this year that I hope they will remember the most is that their mom is going to ENJOY Christmas with them.  I'm not gonna stand back and watch as I work so hard to make it enjoyable FOR them.  I'm going to do it WITH them.  All of it.  I am going to give myself the gift of Sabbath and of realizing that the Baby in the manger means that I don't have to be everything to everyone.  I just have to abide in the One who was everything to everyone.  And right there I can rest. And I right there I can enjoy.  And right there in that sacred space I can just BE.  "The Lord replied, 'My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.'" -Exodus 33:14

The Little Christmas Tree That Could

   

     I love Christmas trees.  Christmas trees are a big deal to me.  Growing up my dad always insisted that we have a real tree.  We would bring it home and decorate it together.  I'm pretty sure Amy Grant Christmas music played in the background and probably the Carpenters and Alabama if they had Christmas albums.  My parents loved music like I do.  I remember the ornaments we would hang every year and how just seeing them once again brought comfort and security to my young heart.  I remember the anticipation that putting up that tree brought because we wondered what Santa would leave under it on Christmas Eve.  I remember the multicolored lights and the angel on top.  I remember the love of our family of five.
     Because of my love of all of these things I have always insisted that we have a real Christmas tree.  Brian has tried to convince me a few times that an artificial one would do just fine, but I always insist that Christmas is real and so must be the tree.  Last Friday night we had planned to all go out and pick out our tree so that we could decorate it on Saturday.  Well, we were wearing down after a long day, one of the kids had a friend over, and Brian offered to just go get it and bring it back.  He also offered to pick up pizza so I wouldn't need to make dinner so this seemed like a winning plan.  He came in the front door an hour or two later holding our Christmas tree on his shoulder with one arm.   I immediately gasped and said "That Christmas Tree is too skinny!"  You see, when I pick out a tree I look over several trees, find the one with no bald spots and wide and tall and buy that one.  I'm guessing my husband was hungry because I hadn't fed him dinner and decided to grab the first one he saw.  It was wrapped up, and he didn't have them unwrap it so he could inspect it.  I would like to say that I immediately handled this whole tree situation with grace and dignity, but I was slightly upset.  I like my trees like Brian likes his women - with a little junk in the trunk.  I pretty much told him the tree was a disgrace to Christmas and that I needed a Christmas tree I could hide behind.  He assured me that it would "fall" overnight and be full and pretty, but I knew that was a dirty lie.  I mean, if your Christmas tree isn't bigger than your waist when it's wrapped up, it's probably not gonna be a bulging beauty when it's unwrapped.  Saturday morning came and proved this to be true.  There were bald spots, it was skinny, and the trunk actually wasn't even straight.  It went straight up and then somewhere around the middle just went all rogue and off to the left so that it was impossible to stand it up straight.  Seeing the error of his ways, Brian kindly offered several times to take me to buy another tree and find some lesser cause for the ugly duckling.  And I was all in at first.  I wanted my big, fat beautiful Christmas tree - not this tree that just got off a year long juice fast.  But the kids insisted that they liked the tree.  Ansley in particular believed that we could make it pretty.  So I started thinking about the tree, and lots of symbolism came into my mind.  I told Brian that I wanted to keep this tree and help it reach its full potential and fulfill its Christmas destiny.   And suddenly I fell in love with the awful tree. 
     You see this tree this year may go down as my favorite tree, and here is why.  Life is often a lot like the disappointing tree.  Especially if you are a dreamer like I am.  There is a tendency to imagine how perfect something is going to be only to be dismayed when it isn't.  Sometimes you don't know what you are getting until you are already committed and you finally get to unwrap it.  And sometimes when you unwrap it you realize that it isn't at all what you had planned.  And the world we live in says this is an easy fix.  If something or someone disappoints you then cut them loose.  Start over.  Your happiness is too important to waste a single minute on that person that let you down.  If your job is hard - quit!  If your marriage is hard - quit!  If parenting is hard - well you can't really quit that one, but you can certainly wallow in it.  The world tells us that the ugly tree isn't worth trying to make lovely.  It tells us that an ugly tree will always just be an ugly tree, and that the more beautiful tree is always out there waiting.  But this year we said no to giving up on the ugly tree and we determined to make it as beautiful as we possibly could.  And it wasn't easy.  It was really hard to get it to stand up right in the stand because the trunk was too thin.  It was hard to find a direction to face it where it wouldn't appear crooked or show large bald spots.  I had to push it away from the window so the light wouldn't shine through and show how barren it was.  But the kids and I worked on it for hours on Saturday, and when we were done and it was adorned with pictures of my kids and a hundred family memories it was so very beautiful.  It's not the most beautiful tree we have ever had, but it is most definitely the most redeemed tree we have ever had. 
     And every time I look at it this week I see life.  And I see what a mess life can often be.  And I see how marriage and motherhood and work and relationships are almost never exactly what we hoped or planned.  I see how brokenness abounds and the people around me are all broken.  And I see my own brokenness in that little tree.  And I see how not giving up on it made all the difference.  Instead of throwing that tree off into the woods to die, we put it in water and loved it and put some of our most precious belongings all over it.  We didn't ask it to be worthy.  We helped it become worthy.  And I just wonder what this world would look like if we treated each other this way.  What if we overlooked disappointment and saw potential?  What if we loved through the ugly and then we got to see the beautiful come out?  What if we honored our commitments even when they didn't turn out like we hoped they would?  What if we poured ourselves into the most disappointing places in our lives and helped them to reach their full potential?
     And then I see it at the top of the tree.  That ornament with the painting of Baby Jesus in the manger.  And it simply says "He Came".  And I'm reminded that He did come.  He came.  The God who created this world and then felt His heart break as it turned on Him, crawled into the body of an infant and emerged from the body of a woman.  He laid in a manger.  And He grew, and He saw face to face how disappointing this world could be.  But He didn't give up on us because of our brokenness.  He became broken like us so that we could be worthy to be with Him.  And if that isn't the most beautiful redemption story, then I don't know what is.  There will always be brokenness in this world. There will always be brokenness in each of us.  But because of Jesus we don't have to accept our destiny as the ugly tree.  God will adorn us with all of the right things to be beautiful.  He makes all things beautiful in His time.  We just have to have to trust Him with our trees.

Dear Unbeliever, I'm sorry.

     Dear Unbeliever, I've been thinking about you a lot this year.  You have crossed my mind over and over again as I've watched what has played out among my Christian family across our country and have been heart broken over and over again about what you must be thinking.  And what I just really want to say to you is this - I'm sorry.  I'm sorry that we haven't shown the love and light we should show.  I'm sorry that we have elevated politics over people.  I'm sorry that we have argued and bickered bitterly and watched friendships and family relationships break over an election.  I'm sorry that we have been scared and shaken when we should be brave and firm and peaceful in our Lord.  You have watched as we have flung accusations and sarcasm at each other.  You have watched as we stood not united by Jesus, but divided by party.  And I'm just so sorry.  I'm sorry that we have argued our stance from the comfort of our living rooms and computer screens and sacrificed nothing of our time or comfort to back up those beliefs.  I'm sorry that we were given the job to light up this world, and this year we have jumped headlong into the darkness of wanting to be right and wanting to win so badly that we didn't look into each other's eyes. 
     Dear Unbeliever, please know that this isn't the way of Jesus.  The Jesus that we serve is so much better than this.  And we didn't stop believing in Him.  That's not what happened.  I think we just stopped reading our bibles and kept watching the news and the sitcoms and the social media feed.  I think we just kept so busy that we didn't spend time with the Jesus that we follow.  I think we allowed Satan to enter our thoughts and cause us to fear and judge and shame.  We traded our knowledge that God is sovereign for our worry about the country that we love.  We traded our peace in eternity for a conflict that is temporal.  And we didn't mean to.  Really we didn't.  I want  you to know that there is so much good going on from God's people.  I have seen it this year all around me.  My friends are feeding the hungry, taking in orphans, counseling pregnant teenagers, carrying meals to the bereaved, sponsoring refugees, giving their money and time and heart to amazing causes.  And it's just much quieter than the loud noise you have heard all around you.  God's people have faltered, but we haven't stopped.   There's no press coverage for the man that gives up his Saturday to do yard work for a widow or the woman who gives up her Sunday to teach children about God.  There's no press coverage for the children at my church who raised money to feed hungry orphans around the world.  There is no press coverage for the light that believers are shining around them everyday.  But Dear Unbeliever, please know that this is happening.  And this is the Jesus we serve.  Our Jesus has a heart for every human being on this planet.  Our Jesus wants justice and equality and peace.  Our Jesus looked into the eyes of the people that weren't like him and invited them in.  Our Jesus always put people before his own comfort.  Our Jesus spent every day of His life spreading love and hope.  Our Jesus was God become man, born of a virgin, crucified for us, and risen again.  Our Jesus didn't look at what was wrong with people and turn from them.  He looked at their sin, loved them anyway, and helped them turn from it.  Our Jesus was everything you wanted to see from us this year and probably didn't. 
     Dear Unbeliever, please understand something.  The reason we are able to call ourselves the "Redeemed" is because we need redemption.  The reason we serve Jesus is because we are broken and flawed just like everyone else.  We want to follow the way of Jesus, but we mess up.  We fall.  And that's precisely the beauty of our Jesus.  He picks us up, dusts us off, and says "Go and sin no more."  And all the while He loves us fiercely.  If you are looking at us to be the perfect examples of biblical principles we will let you down.  We don't want to.  We try not to.  But we will.  But if you look closely you will see that we also try to spread light wherever we go.  If you look closely you will see that true followers of Jesus will never be perfect, but we will never give up trying to live up to the name we represent.  Because we love Him.  He doesn't require perfection.  He died so it wouldn't be required.  But he requires belief.  He requires faith.  Dear Unbeliever, please don't give up on searching for Jesus because of the mistakes His people have made this year.  Don't let the dark moments you have seen define us as a whole.  Don't judge a perfect man by His imperfect followers. Learn about Him from the perfect word of God.  Seek out the good that is going on around you.  Look for the light and find the Christians there.   Dear Unbeliever, please forgive us for 2016.  Our purpose on this earth is to show you the love of Jesus, and I'm afraid we fell terribly short.

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.
   

Kindergarten

   

     Something big happens in our family tomorrow.  Wyatt starts Kindergarten.   It's been a long time coming.  I mean technically he could have started last year, but I didn't think he was ready.  He was great socially at preschool, but he still colored like axe murderer and he got his letters and shapes and whatnot confused pretty regularly.  Another year of pre-k seemed like a good idea and was wonderful for him.  So since, I have to let him start school now or face legal action for negligence I figured this one would roll off my back.  Psh....no problem.  I've done this twice before.   The first time was horrible.  The WORST.  The second time hurt, but not nearly as badly.  But the third, well, surely I've got this thing licked.  I even bragged to my friends about how together I was when I took him to Kindergarten testing last week.  "Those other moms were crying.  Rookies."  I proudly smirked at the "boohoo breakfast" advertisement and thought "I won't be crying."   I've been pretty excited about our new routine and the added time in my schedule to do all the things that I am behind on.  ALL THE THINGS.  There are SO MANY things.  But anyway, I was so ready for this.  .........And then tonight came.     Wyatt has been a little out of sorts and anxious about school starting for a few weeks, but tonight he just broke down sobbing when I was laying down with him tucking him in.  He is terrified to go to school.  He doesn't want to go.  He is afraid he can't make friends.  He doesn't want me to make him go.  And here I am right back in this Mommy place of heartbreak for your child.  Everything they feel you feel with them, and your heart is inexplicably tied to their struggles.  And I find myself begging God to let him have a good day tomorrow, and I'm having a hard time going to bed.  This motherhood thing.  It's not part-time.  There isn't a second that you don't have a concern for one of your kids.  There isn't a day that goes by where you don't feel something they are feeling.  When they hurt you ache, and when they are happy you beam.  They have your heart.
     And I am thinking tonight about God.  The perfect parent.  And how He calls us to new things.  How He asks things of us that are uncomfortable and scary sometimes.  How sometimes life feels like Kindergarten.  And I just know that He cares so deeply about our "new things".  He aches when we ache, and He "sits up" with us when we are scared.   Last year I stood on the edge of "Kindergarten".  There were so many changes that would occur in my life, and I cried so much because I didn't want to let go of my normal and my plan and my routine.  I didn't want to make new friends.  And what if no one liked me?  And what if I failed at that job?  And I liked my life how it was.  And I didn't see the need for change.  But all along God was saying "You'll be fine.  Trust me.  You need to go to Kindergarten."  And for this person who likes the familiar and predictable it just didn't sound appealing.  But at the same time there was something very appealing about it all.  Could life actually be more simple?  Could we consolidate all of the major parts of our life into one small community?  Could I use gifts God has given me to minister to children in that community?  When everything in the world screams bigger and better could smaller and quieter be just what we wanted for our family?  Could we live on a farm and enjoy it?  Could we refuse to run our life always at a break neck pace in favor of something a little calmer?
     It's been a year of letting go and a year of embracing.  A year of tears of heartbreak for what is behind and a year of smiles and joy for what is gained.  A year of remembering on some basic level who I am and finding a peace that I had lost somewhere along the way.  A year of being grateful for where we are and for everything that brought us here.  A year of knowing I cannot take my friends or family for granted.  A year of seeing my husband happier than I have seen him in a long time.  A year of seeing my kids thrive in the smaller, the quieter.  A year of realizing that God doesn't ask us to give up things to hurt us.  He asks us to give up things to bless us.  And when we loosen our grip enough to let him take the wheel He will always drive us to exactly where we need to be.  And He even patiently lets us take little breaks on the trip when we question where on earth we are going.  Then He keeps on driving us to the place where He blesses us.  He is a Good, Good Father, and our new beginnings are never in vain when they are in Him.  His plans are rarely painless, but they are always perfect.
     So tomorrow when Wyatt heads into Kindergarten I will empathize with how he is feeling.  But I will trust that God has great plans in his new beginning.  I will have faith that He will be with him all day even when I cannot.  I will even TRY to walk out of there without tears if it's possible.  And I will remember all of the "Kindergartens" that God has brought us through and thank Him that He never leaves our sides.  -So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." _Isaiah 41:10