We never have to live up to or down to our perceived status in society. We never have to remain the snapshot stereotype. New post up!
I’m not sure if calling an ostensibly useless limb by its own name is a reaction to the grief of the loss from the stroke but it sure does make us all laugh when we are transferring her from her wheelchair into the car all the while scolding Laverne for not wanting to come along for the journey.
Though we rarely see each other in person, my friend, Courtney DeFeo is a true source of encouragement, inspiration, and brass tax practical advice. (Thank you, technology!)
So, when she posted a blog for folks who want to create, write or speak but don’t necessarily know how or where to start, I was intrigued. Courtney has an uncanny way of engaging readers right where they are and lighting the way toward possible next steps.
And, in true Courtney fashion, she never aims the spotlight only on herself. She invites others in to collaborate with her so we can spur one another on in this crazy, creative, writing adventure.
As I thought about what I might say to someone just starting out on this journey, I realized the advice that came to me is exactly what I need to hear right now because I’ve fallen into a bit of a dry spell with my writing. Isn’t that how life so often works??
These are the reminders I need these days — and just maybe, they will speak to you too…
Nightmare might seem to be a strong word in that post. It feels strong to me, yet fitting. On December 21, 2012, the nightmare was his death. The nightmare was raising three kids alone. And the most nightmarish part was getting down to Spencer’s level and telling him that his dad died. Today, the nightmare isn’t that we live without Dave, although it hurts. The nightmare is the fallout. It’s that there is this crack now, that Satan loves to play in.
As I sit in my gated off kitchen cleaning up puppy pee every three minutes, I wonder when in the world I had time to write a whole blog about the possibility of hearing from God?? That “life of leisure” is a distant memory today.
But the new normal in this season got me thinking — can one only hear from God in the silence? In the calm seasons of life? When the conditions are perfect, the candles are lit, the coffee is freshly brewed, no kids are awake and no puppies are peeing?
Or is it also possible to hear from God in the midst of the chaos? In the storms of life?
I have to believe the answer is YES. To both.
So, I woke up early last week to make my flight and my phone wasn’t charged, even though I had charged it all night long. I figured it was somewhat faulty cord, so I plugged it into the kitchen. I finished getting ready and the kids were running around getting ready for school, when I decided that this bag I’d be hauling around San Francisco all day was a little to heavy. Being a smart traveler
Learning to hear from God is a lot like learning to do Cross-fit.
When you’re an “outsider” looking in, the whole thing looks like the world got together and decided to play a big joke on the rest of us. Not only does Cross-fit look miserable, it looks damn near impossible.
But — what if??
What if the God of the universe, Jesus himself, wants to meet with you today? To bring you a word, a thought, a dream, a vision, an impression of full-life meant just for you?! What if He wants to meet you in the deepest part of your soul, right in the middle of the anxiety, fear, and doubt, in the center of your most profound need and bring you a different perspective? His perspective? One that has the possibility of bringing hope and light and life and joy.
Isn’t it worth opening your heart to the possibility that you could listen to Him, hear directly from Him?
Once upon a time a cute little Colorado native married a Virginia born graphic designer. The two got married, had a son then a daughter 5 years later. And then—-> BING BOING BOOM 26 minutes later they have 2 teenagers one of whom is a senior and trying to figure out how to be a […]
“Young Life?” I questioned. “I’ve never heard of that. What is it?”
To be sure, Young Life breeds its own kind of rabid college-football-loving-status type of culture. The people who love it paint their bare chests and scream at the top of their lungs. Everything they own has a YL logo on it. Tshirts, bumper stickers, water bottles. You name it. And the folks who have no idea what YL is or don’t give a rat’s, haven’t a clue what to do with such over-the-top adoration.
As a relative “outsider,” at the beginning of this gig, I had a love/hate relationship with YL for quite a while. It took me a few years and lots of tearful conversations with my husband before I too fell head over heels in love with this ministry. Young Life has been our vocation for the past 21 years — but now we are feeling the winds of change and we are about to embark on a new adventure.
Generally speaking, I’m not a sentimental person. I might tear up during a particularly moving human interest story on America’s Got Talent or at the end of a movie like say The Notebook. (I mean, who doesn’t??) But by and large, I’m a pretty no-nonsense kind of girl. I don’t usually daydream about yesteryear or the glory days. If anything, I’m more apt to look too far into the future than reminisce about the past. So, when I volunteered to host my dad’s retirement party honoring his 45 years of family practice, my mind went blank. I didn’t really know how to make this family potluck more special than any other.