The strangest thing happened to me the other day. I have been going to see a chiropractor, which is strange in and of itself, because I’m terrified by any cracking of my body. I cringe and shiver if I even accidentally pop a knuckle, but I was starting to experience some back pain again and needed to feel like I was doing something about it. 

So, there I lay last Friday, face down, after a few adjustments and with one left to go. He said, “this one is going to be intense, because this is where you seem to be holding quite a bit of  . .  . CRACK . . . emotion.  Immediately, and I mean immediately, my eyes were leaking and soon I was in an all out cry.  Now, I tempered it with some little laughs, in order to quell the awkwardness, while pleading, “Sorry, I don’t know what is happening here.”  He was far from surprised and, evidently, he knew it was coming all along. He casually told me that I was holding emotional pain, because our bodies do that kind of thing, and to go take some time for myself to read and try to relax for the rest of the day.

You see, I used to eat a lot of corn dogs, “Cheese-Its,” cookies, etc. . .  If it was processed, it was mine. I used to think that anything yoga, meditation, gluten-free, organic, essential oil-ish, was for fancy people and, well, we all know I’m not fancy. But over the course of the past few years, I have changed.  I haven’t become any fancier, but I have dipped my toe into the waters of all the things mentioned above. I’m am a purist with NONE of the things above, but I really think there is something to all this stuff and I wish I would have discovered their importance in my life sooner.

For whatever reason, I actually felt like it was somehow anti-Christian to live in this sort of natural health world (as if corn dogs are more Christiany). In the case of yoga and meditation, I know how I came to that bent. They are spiritual practices and I knew so little about both yoga and meditation, it just felt safer to steer clear entirely.  It is seriously embarrassing to admit that. Jesus is so so so far beyond these little misinterpretations of what Christianity is all about. He is after after my heart, not my diet. He is for a life of freedom, abundance and grace, not rules. 

In addition to just feeling uneasy about the world of yoga, I was simply, also, very unlimber.  Any time I had even attempted yoga, before the past year, it was more of a stomach workout from laughing at how my poses looked, compared to the rest of the room. Fortunately, all the amazing instructors I have had, emphasize how yoga is a comparison free zone.   My friend Surya can attest to my novice yoga skills when she tried to teach me a little yoga . . . and that was before back surgery. Over the years, she has posted on FB her crazy yoga moves that would require the average citizen to dislocate their bones in order to get into her positions, so I was going to send her a picture of me touching my toes.  I’m still not quite there, but this may be as close as I get, so this one is for you, Surya.  

You see, I really do think God created us.  I think he created our bodies so intricately and so amazingly.  I think he created our bodies to be emotional, to be strong, to sometimes be weak, to recover, to live despite disabilities, to fight infections, to be taken care of, to be connected to our souls. Of course, when my body is not working or I see someone else in emotional or physical pain, I struggle so much.  While, I do sincerely struggle with the imperfections of our bodies,  I have always loved these verses.  Even enough to memorize them when I was in high school for some reason.  Psalms 139:13-16.  

For You formed my inward parts; you covered me in my mother’s word. I will praise You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well. My frame was not hidden from You, When I was Made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them.

I think I have separated my body and soul so far apart, they sometimes work at odds with each other.  I’m pretty convinced that grief and stress had a lot to do with the plight of my back. I don’t think I would be minus a disc in my lower back right now had Dave not died, or if I had known more about how the body stores emotional pain and how to let it go. I still don’t even know much about that world, but I want to know more and I believe there is a strong connection. Actually, that reminds me of another story.

In the summer, we went camping to a lake you should never go during the summer.  It was a million degrees during the day and then at night, there were tornado warnings.  We spent two of our three evenings huddled together with the rest of the campground in the women’s bathroom, to escape giant falling tree limbs, scary winds and what felt like imminent death. By the last day, my body was aching everywhere, like I had run to the top of Pikes Peak.  I kept trying to stretch and loosen up, but absolutely nothing helped. Finally, before bed, I decided to give yoga a try, and while I had stretched all day long, it wasn’t until I really focused on breathing and doing the stuff you are supposed to do while practicing yoga, that I had complete relief. That was when I was all in with this yoga business. 

I go to two different places for yoga.  One provides more of a challenge physically with an amazing instructor, Alison, that I love, because she tells you every little detail about every position and I need that.  The other place I go focuses more on the body/mind/soul/spirit/Holy Spirit connection. Here is a little bit from the about page of The Haven Studio where I go: 

 And as a group, we sink deep together and allow the space, the physical movement, and our heart’s posture to lead us into profound, personal and corporate worship.  Trust yoga asks the question: “What do you have for me today, God?”  In the Holy Spirit’s presence we gather, and like Samuel (I Sam 3) we open our hands and ask God to speak to his listening people.

All of that to say, it is an interesting road, seeing and experiencing first hand, how grief has affected my body and how I evidently am continuing to store emotional pain, based on my chiropractor visit the other day.  I want to continue to learn about God’s intricate design for the healing of our hearts, souls and physical bodies. (BTW-there is a grief yoga class by one of the Haven instructors this Saturday at Lifetime Fitness.  I think I’m going to try and make it and would love some company). 

This feels like a very unadventy post, but these soul and body connections feel important to me as I get ready to lean into the anniversary of Dave’s death and the celebration of the birth of my Jesus, my Wonderful, my Counselor, my Mighty God, my Everlasting Father, my Prince of Peace.     

Megan’s Take: Phew. This is such an interesting, convicting, sometimes divisive, yet important topic. God absolutely created our bodies and souls to fit together in harmony. In fact, the apostle Paul tells us that our body is a temple, a housing place for the Holy Spirit. So, why on God’s green earth, have we kept such a distance from healthy living (mind, soul AND body) in the church as a whole??  I have so much to learn in this regard, but your story inspires me, Holly. Not to give up sugar! Gracious. Let’s not go too crazy, but to sit down and ASK God what he may have for me in the way of healing in all senses of the word. Perhaps the most important question to ponder in all of this is WHY are we doing what we’re doing?? Is it to please man (ie., look cuter, skinnier, younger, etc for other people’s approval/interest) OR is it because the God who created us wants to lead us into abundant life and part of the process might be to take some intentional (potentially ‘drastic’) measures in order to head in that direction…

 Christina’s Take:

Body and soul being connected to each other….I feel like I keep hearing this in my life. I know you’re right and I have seen you shift from your corn dog days to you now more whole ways and I’d say it definitely agrees with you.

This whole thing makes me want to open up my hands and take about 10 big deep breaths – I’m just in the middle of such an intense work season that sometimes I craft a false notion that if I gut it out a little longer, more will get done. That’s a pretty good indicator if I’m honest that my body and my soul aren’t talking to one another.

Love this insight – and love your sweet humility and you showing us this new place.

When our world is in chaos, we humans do the only thing we know to do. We try to make sense of it.

We stretch our minds to find any threads of sense in what seems like a nonsensical situation.

We cry, we laugh, we scream, we fight. But at the end of the day, our brains get to work. We start asking why and trying to figure out exactly ‘what’s going on’. We grasp at any semblance of normalcy we can find. When our world (either macro or micro) seems out of control, our focus often narrows to pinpoint precision. We zero in on our latitude and longitude and wonder how this chaos will affect us and those we care about. 

I’m sure I don’t have to convince you that last week was just such a week in the United (some may say Divided) States of America. Suffice it to say, Election Day did NOT roll out like so many supposed. Far from it.

It is no secret that I was not a fan of either candidate. That’s not exactly earth shattering news because I can’t find many who were. Even though I was hoping God would orchestrate some secret, divine “third” option in the wee hours of the morning, that was not the case. We all woke up on Wednesday and found out that while we slept (or hardly slept a wink) Donald Trump was indeed crowned President Elect of the good old US of A.

I’m sure I also don’t need to convince you that the outcome has just about torn this country in two. I would venture to guess if Hillz had won, it would be the same thing. Fear was bound to rear its ugly head and strike the hearts of a large number of American citizens, it was just a matter of which of ones. If it wasn’t clear before now, it is obvious there are cavernous political factions among us.

Many of you have decided to stay off social media and keep the roar of outside news to a minimum. Kudos to you. I have not been able to do that. I have watched in real time as “Facebook friends” post and repost articles that ultimately (we circle back to the top of this post) help them make sense of the world. And to make matters worse — many of those articles, both pre & post election, may not even be true!

Since those preliminary days (which was only last week), my mind hasn’t gotten much clearer about the world or the political happenings. In fact, things seem to only get more bizarre. Over the last few days, however, I have felt several key ideas settle into my heart. A few cornerstones of thought I’m adding to my days in the name of health and wellness and a desire to find my truth and move forward. (And by the way, I didn’t find any of these on Facebook.) 

1. “People need to have their say, even if they don’t get their way.” — Pastor Tim McConnell, First Pres Church, Colorado Springs

These stories flying around matter. We may vehemently disagree or not read them at all, but as a writer myself, I understand the need get something off your chest before it threatens to implode you entirely. People desperately want to be seen, heard, and understood. We want to know that our lives, our perspectives and stories matter. I don’t necessarily need you to agree with me personally, but I do need to know that you hear me and respect my story. Sometimes the greatest way to alleviate pain and anxiety is to share our stories, our truth with another person. To get things out into the light. To be heard. The internet just broadens the number of potential listeners. 

2. “Don’t take in information that you don’t have context for.” — Pastor Eric Johnson, Bethel Church, Redding, CA

This is where we need to execute DISCERNMENT with a capital D. The internet is an infinite chasm of information, of stories, if you will. Scrolling through Twitter or Facebook often feels like drinking from a fire hose. One click or comment can thrust you into a rabbit hole of gargantuan, time-sucking proportions. If I am going to take time to read things, to listen to other people’s stories, I have GOT to figure out a way to process what I’m hearing. Instead of a knee-jerk reaction, I need to slow down and sleep on it. I need to think, pray, read and gather alternative viewpoints before I can ultimately conclude my own. There are no shortcuts here.

3. My Truth is God’s Truth.

Listen, I’m not naive. I’m just as torn up and flummoxed as the next person about the state of the world. I know that we can’t gloss over everything with a magic wand. But for me personally, my faith is paramount and the absolute foundation of who I am and how I operate in the world. If I’m not taking time to reorient myself in God’s word and asking the Holy Spirit for divine wisdom, I will become what is most natural to me, what I have fought against my whole life. I will become a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, wanting to start again. (Stellar analogy cred to Katy Perry for that one.) The point is, without God’s word and presence in my life, I am a complete and utter basket case. Word. 

4. We Must Be True to What We Know.

A few days ago, a good friend of mine, messaged me on Facebook. He sought me out as “one who has voiced thoughts that are different than what many of your friends may be saying.” The article attached to the post that he wanted me to read made my stomach turn. (You can read it here). No matter who you voted for or how you see the world, this type of stuff is just yucky. After reading it, I replied to my friend and told him my stomach was in knots. I was sad that, in truth or perception, Christians are often viewed as some of the meanest people in the world. His response stunned me.

He wrote, “Well, if the Christian god is real and the Christian message is true, you are the most free people on the planet to love without reservation. I think I read somewhere that perfect love casts out all fear. Or maybe I’m just making that up. Be true to what you know.”

There it is, friends. This much I know is true…

 “Any kingdom at war with itself is doomed. A city or home divided against itself is doomed.”

— Matthew 12:25

I pray we can listen and love and build from here.  

I just may need to take a sabbatical from social media in order to do so.

Holly’s Take:

Does anyone else feel like culture is changing at break neck speeds?  Or has every generation before me said the same thing? It just feels like even in the past few weeks, I have repeatedly rehearsed the phrase, “What is happening in this world?” I can’t seem to keep up. I am saying the same thing inside the walls of my own home.  “What is happening?”  It’s as if there is something in the air and I keep looking to find a solid posture to take, but the wind won’t stop blowing, so I can’t find my footing. I want to just find a cabin in the woods, crawl under a down blanket with a flashlight and reexamine what I believe and remind myself over and over, who is in charge of this world and my little bitty world. In an effort to replicate that scene in real life, Megan and Christina and I have all deleted Facebook off of our phones and will be replacing those minutes (Lord, help me if it’s hours), with studying II Timothy. I don’t know what will come of it, and I think it will be harder than I think, to de-facebook my phone, but I up for the challenge if it means a some solid ground. 

 Christina’s Take:

These are the strangest times…or are they? Do we feel unsettled because of what is happening in the world or because of what we are consuming?

I, for one, have felt this slow slide into a fearful, angry sense of the world all while hooking my hopes to humans who will never be able to save anyone or anything.

So the time has come — let’s re-align our perspectives and start neighboring, friending and loving such that all of the madness on capital hill fades in the light of the True work in the world that we get to join. Thanks for this jolt of good news in the midst of the bleary season, Megan. 

“My thoughts are completely different from yours,” says the LORD. “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.”

— Isaiah 55:8-9

Oh how I pray this is so! Because my thoughts suck.

My thoughts go something like this…. How have we gotten to this place? How is it that our only viable candidates in this Presidential election seem like they’ve been plucked right out of the Hunger Games?

How is it that in a democratic society (supposedly the best form of government in the world) we’ve narrowed our playing field down to a two (extremely-opposite) party system and to vote for any intriguing third party candidate is basically like throwing your one hard-won vote away? And who chose these people anyway? Only those who are either Donkeys or Elephants. If you find yourself unable to commit to one of those animals, you don’t have a voice until the bitter end. 

All these questions swirl as I watch this Presidential election play out in real time. Back in March I was afraid it would come to this, but held out hope we might find a better option. Apparently not.

Debate after debate, I sit on the couch with my children and cringe as the questions and comments come out of the mouths of the two people we have to choose from to be the leader of the free world!

One child asks, “How can we elect Donald Trump for president? I mean, have you SEEN his wife? She’s like 25 years younger than him? I hear he doesn’t even respect women.”

Another looks perplexed and says, “What does abortion mean?” as she’s listening to Hillary say she’s pro-choice even in late term abortions at the expense of the mother’s life and Donald equates her stance to saying she’s in favor of “ripping the baby out of the womb.”

And still another comments, “Have we always had so much emphasis on fact-checking? How are we supposed to know if anyone is telling the truth if we have to spend time fact-checking everything that comes out of their mouths?”

Good questions, young Jedis.

A common phrase around our house is, “let your yes be yes and your no be no.” There’s no need to ‘promise’ or ‘swear’ because we should say what we mean and mean what we say. We spend a lot of time reminding our kids that “words matter” and spouting my all-time favorite, “you’d better check yourself before you wreck yourself!” None of these supposed role-models are helping. 

So what do I do? How do I sift through the chaos and “vote my conscience” when neither one of these candidates is even remotely close. There is a red and white envelope sitting on my kitchen counter, daring me to open it. As of yet, I have not. Voting this year feels like someone just invited me to go back to middle school again. Not in a million years. And yet, puberty is part of growing up. We must endure it to get to the other side. Apparently, I have between now and November 8 to figure it out. (Please don’t say vote for Gary Johnson. He just stopped smoking pot to rally for this White House bid.)

Even though Mike Rowe doesn’t subscribe to the hashtag #rockthevote, I still plan to do so. I kind of feel like one of the players of Survivor who say they “still don’t know who they’re voting for” right before tribal council. Too bad our votes in November don’t go towards voting someone off the island. 

I know many big name people have written about the idea that, no matter who sits on America’s throne come January, our hope is still in the One who came to earth to save us from ourselves 2000 years ago. True justice and righteousness will never be found in any earthly system, but in God alone. While none of these candidates can “save our country” the reality is that there are countries out there that are hanging in the balance of this election.

Just the other day, we had the blessing of hanging out with a beautiful older man from Ethiopia. His heart and life come close to modeling that of Jesus himself. At the end of our evening together, the host of the get together asked this man to pray. After blessing Jesus for His extravagant love and saving grace, this man’s prayer turned towards praying for America’s election process. An Ethiopian man traveled half way around the world to pray for us! He prayed that America would step into its God-given leadership role to be a force for good in this world because if we do not, there are plenty of other countries (think China, Russia…) who are waiting in the wings to take our place at the table. And if that happens, I presume the outcome will be none too pretty. 

Listen, human government was never meant to save us. It was meant to placate us.

God has given us what we asked for in the way of kings and judges, but He makes it very clear that His Kingdom is the one of ultimate consequence. Paul tells us God is not a God of confusion (1 Corinthians 14:33) and the book of Daniel makes reminds us that God is the one who controls the course of world events (2:21), He deposes kings and sets others up. 

How will this election turn out? It’s anyone’s guess. Although if the kids have anything to say about it, we should be expecting our our first female president. 

At this last debate the moderator asked Donald Trump if he could accept the election results if he loses.  He said he would keep us in suspense. Cue national mic drop. I’m curious why they didn’t ask Hillary Clinton the same thing.

And now I might ask the rest of us. Will we be willing to accept the election results no matter what happens? 

Might I be so bold as to suggest accepting the election results will be a heck of a lot easier if we know that both of these people are human (just like us) and neither one is our true King? Making America great or “great again” or whatever turn of phrase you you’d like to use, will only happen if we (that means you and me and the whole damn lot of us) humble ourselves and pray — if we band together in love and respect to be the people this country set out to be.

At the end of the day, let me leave you with this…

“I pray that your LOVE for each other with overflow more and more and that you will keep on growing in your knowledge and understanding for I want you to understand what REALLY MATTERS so that you will live pure and blameless lives until Christ returns.” 

— Philippians 4:9-10

PS — Still wondering about the candidate/choices? Check this out. 

Holly’s Take:

Are you really making me take a take on this topic? I’m not sure I can be diplomatic about it.  I just can’t believe that the debates are the real deal and not the Saturday Night Live versions. These debates would be comical if they weren’t so scary/sad. What perked me up a bit, was finding out that this guy, Evan McMullin, actually has a 2% outside shot of disrupting the final outcome of the election.  I’m in.  He’s gaining some ground, evidently, and I like what this guy has to say and that he says it in a confident, non-degrading, intelligent fashion. I have wavered a TON about what in the world I would do on election day, but ultimately, I am finding a lot of peace in actually voting for somebody whose name I can speak out loud without cringing. Especially, now that I know, it could even actually make a difference. I’m sure this wasn’t a post intended for me or others to vomit, for whom they are voting, but I just lose my ability to filter, when the topic arises.  So . . . .who is everyone voting for?  Just kidding. 

Christina’s Take:

Oh my word. This is making my “election rash” flair up again. I have spent a lot of time trying to figure this out. In general, I have the impression (even though every Hollywood celebrity tells me I’m wrong) that my vote really doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things. All of this feels like I’m turning a mirror around so I see myself and all of my warts and flaws more closely – since I am so willing to join the chorus of jeers and sneers about either Hillz or Don. I’m grateful for this word, Megan. Perspective! We need it, don’t we?

I’m guessing this will be a long post.  This is one of those, it’s more for me, than for anyone else out there.  It is a documenting of a true life miracle and some of the in betweens.  You are already forgiven if you don’t have time to read this all.  

On September 5th, of this year, I went for a beautiful hike up through Stanley Canyon with some friends. On our way back to the car, I became enamored with this little butterfly. I don’t know if my friends remember, but I was kinda acting weird about it saying that butterflies are just amazing and that they are like a miracle . . . how their wings are so thin and their colors are so organized and symmetrical.  I even thought I was being a little weird.  Then a few days later, Tony and I watched the movie, “Miracles From Heaven,” and it was so crazy, because in the movie, (spoiler alert) when the little girl falls into the tree and is unconscious, she sees a butterfly and she follows it and she goes to heaven where there were flowers made out of butterflies. I vividly remember thinking back a few days before and making that connection between me calling that butterfly a miracle and then the miracle in this movie being surrounded by butterflies. I thought to myself, and I’m not making this up, “I wonder if I will see a miracle soon.”  

I used to think that all that stuff was just coincidence, but my thinking has changed over the last four years. I will also say that even though I have seen miracles before, I always think that big miracles will be for the person next to me . . . not for me. In fact, all my prayers those first couple days included something like, “Lord, please heal her, despite the thought that I don’t think you will.” Life sometimes feels too hard to keep believing in miracles. 

Just a few days later, on September 13, I went to a piano teachers meeting and on the way home, I called my mom’s cell phone and she didn’t answer. No big deal. She often times didn’t answer her phone, but already things didn’t feel right to me. So, I checked her location with my little, “Find a Friend,” app and she was at home.  I waited a few minutes as my heart rate continued to be a little high, thinking that I just needed her to hear her voice. She didn’t answer the home phone, either.  Now my thoughts were starting to churn.  My mom did not get the nickname, “Half ring,” by an old boyfriend for nothing.  My mom just generally answers her phone.  My dad had just been out of town, but I reasoned that he was back in town from a weekend away and that if anything was wrong, then he would have called.  I kept thinking that I should just call and make sure that everything was OK, but I kept talking myself out of it.  I called again at about noon and still there was no answer and I still kept thinking that I should call my dad.  I was VERY unusually concerned by my mom not answering the phone, but then I didn’t do anything about it.

When I saw my dad’s number pop up on my phone at 3:50, I was 98% sure she had had a stroke. She had been in the house, not able to move or speak for five and half hours, before my dad came home to a bizarre scene of the garage door open, the car door open, and my mom’s shoe in the car.  The car is where her stroke started.  She managed to drag herself back into the house, but then got stuck until 911 arrived hours and hours later . . . way too late to receive that stroke reversing drug.    

She was taken to the hospital, where they did MRIs, x-rays on her broken ankle, and finally an “intervention” (which took about 2 1/2 hours) where they went through an artery to clear out the clots in her brain. What we didn’t know at the time, is that the doctors were arguing about whether or not to even do the intervention, because they thought she was too far gone. Even after the surgery, the doctor overseeing all the doctors taking care of her did not think she would ever recover anything.  The orthopedic surgeon just splinted up her foot and thought he would check on her in a week to see if she had woken up at all.  

I finally saw her at about 9:15. My dad and I were in her room pretending to be listening to a doctor go on and on about his “doctory” knowledge of strokes. All I heard, was that the part of her brain affected was the left side, specifically where her speech and comprehension would be affected.  Those are the two words I didn’t want to hear. Then all of the sudden, my mom raised her right arm, (which we were kind of thinking would be paralyzed forever, since her brain was without oxygen for so long) and a new hope was born. She also got the word, “yes” out. While my mom began her battle for recovery, I was in a little battle of my own. 

That night was certainly in the top three worst nights of my life. I felt a tremendous amount of guilt and responsibility for my mom not getting help sooner. I knew my thinking was twisted, but I couldn’t find a replacement for my thinking.  I kept saying, “I KNEW something was wrong and I did nothing about it!”  If I had only called my dad, she could have gotten that reversal medicine and maybe she’d have a chance at recovering. My thoughts kept centering around how I thought God had given me this push to be alarmed, but I didn’t listen or decipher it correctly and I’m to blame. I knew they were not true statements, but if I rejected them, then I would be letting myself off the hook and that didn’t feel right to me.  

I already had a counseling appointment scheduled for the next day, for all the other messy thinking and stuff in my life, so I just kept breathing until I could get there. There, with the help of a highly trained professional, we attempted to reject the lies and capture the truth.  The truths: I didn’t actually KNOW that my mom needed help, or else I would have done something.  This was not a test of my spiritual walk.  My ego was at play here. Hospitals are sacred places. It is not God and . . . .  That was the biggie.  IT IS NOT GOD AND . . . .  It sounds ridiculous now, but I kept thinking that God was trying to let me in on something and if I had just partnered up with him, then my mom would be OK, but since I didn’t, I would have to live with that and watch my parents struggle or even watch my mom die. The truth: God does not need me. I need Him. 

I walked out of that appointment ready to do this thing.  When I got to the hospital that day the report was much different than I expected. My mom was saying words and moving all of her right side??? She wasn’t making much sense yet, but there was certainly improvement beyond what anyone expected.  

By Thursday morning, her improvement was already entering miracle territory. The speech pathologist came in and within a couple minutes of talking with my mom, she said, “Wow! Even people who get the reversal medicine don’t recover like this.” That was like the most gigantic sentence in this whole deal, because it translated directly to,  “IT’S NOT GOD AND YOU, HOLLY – IT’S JUST GOD!!!”   God didn’t need me to save the day and make sure my mom got the stroke reversal medicine. 

Sidebar: A little comical part of that same session was when the speech pathologist was asking my mom to describe a picture and particularly what was wrong with the mom.  To which, my mom said, “Well, her skirt is really short.”  Spoken like a true mom!  

The next day was a long one, as they had decided to do surgery on her ankle, now that the doctors thought she actually might walk again. That was a sobering, yet awe filled afternoon, as the doctor filled us in on how dire her situation was and how they were not even going to do the blood clot intervention and had little hope of seeing any recovery. As the orthopedic surgeon was asking my mom questions and she was answering back, he kept turning to my dad and me, saying, “I just can’t believe this!!!!”  

It’s been four weeks now, since her stroke and she is home and continuing to build her strength back up and recover from her broken ankle. Every conversation with her feels like another little butterfly miracle.

Megan’s Take: It is not “God and….” Man! That truth hits me smack dab, SQUARE between the eyes. I was made for “God and…” I feel like so much of my life is based on that theologically unsound concept. I’m gonna partly blame it on our pull-yourself-up-from-your-bootstraps American culture and whoever coined the blasphemous phrase, “God helps those who help themselves.” It’s taken me a lot of years to “undo” that kind of thinking. Yes, we co-labor. Yes, works are an extension of our faith, but God does not NEED us, we desperately NEED him. I am profoundly impacted by this journey you all have been on. It is hard. It is mysterious. And it is oh so very good. Love you, friend. Major HUGS to Judy!! #butterflymiracles

Christina’s Take: 

I see a minimum of TWO miracles here; 

Judy’s healing

and

your ALREADY SCHEDULED therapy appointment!

I love it when we can link symbols to God’s action. And I am so thrilled that in the midst of this butterfly miracle, you are real and honest about the fact that this isn’t a normal way you think. To me, that magnifies this even more. I think when we make MUCH of God and make less of ourselves – these are the moments that show his Kingdom here on earth. And I am everyday thrilled that Judy  continues to thrive and mend. And I love that she’s telling her story now, too. I hope she continues testifying! 

Many of you may know that Holly’s sweet mama had a stroke on September 13th.

Judy is in the hospital recovering from a still-very-much-evolving situation. This news is not my news. It’s not for me to share except for the fact that I have walked a post-stroke journey with my own mom for the last 5 years. So the news about Judy isn’t mine to share but it is familiar territory, unfortunately. Holly has given me permission to process this on the blog – and you can bet that very soon she’ll be adding lots from her heart about this unforeseen and unwelcome road.

And Holly is (in her own words) “undone.” She cannot fathom the idea that Judy’s going through this, that Judy is, by no choice of her own, trying to figure out how to do some very basic things that just the morning of September 13th were easy to do – not requiring a second thought.

Mercy.

Lord we need your mercy.

That’s what I feel as I type with utter disbelief in this word document that Judy Bonnell had a stroke. 

Mercy.

Lord, Judy needs your mercy.

How will you offer it?

And from those thoughts, my senses are jolted into a hyper awareness of what must be happening at the hospital right now. I just picture how the doctors and nurses and therapists and pathologists and CT techs are in organized, active buzz-mode trying to

inform, not promise

encourage yet not lend too much hope

educate while setting accurate, measured expectations.

in the unforeseen and unwelcome context.

What a complex web of data and emotions mixed with shock and grief must be wafting around Judy’s room and the hallways of that place. I just can’t take my mind off of it.

In the most absurd and weird way, hospitals are holy places – shepherding  us all through the unwelcome and unforeseen with some information and a plan.

Holy, Holy, Holy… Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee. Holy, Holy, Holy. Merciful and mighty.

And even as the hospital staff mobilize to bring about healing for Judy’s brain and body, I find myself in the same place as I was almost 4 years ago now when Dave, Holly’s husband died. As her friend, as someone (among many!) who cherishes Holly and wants all the best things for her, what shall we do now? When to call? What to say? How to enter in? 

And even: HOW CAN WE FIX THIS? IS THIS EVEN REAL?

So many questions mixed with such a small dose of understanding.

I just cannot believe that things like this happen every day. I can’t believe that bodies fail and people hurt.

I just cannot even grasp this part of God’s story being written in Judy’s life.

This doesn’t happen to people who are so good and true and hard-working and kind and lovely in the world.

Right?

And so you can, by now, tell that this post is part lament, part prayer, part worship, and a lot of rambling clutter all mixed into a soup of confusion and pursuit of comfort.

What’s prompted in your heart when life takes an unforeseen, unwelcome turn? Do you want to make it all better with trite, concise answers? Do you want to put your head in your pillow and scream? Do you want to escape from the whole thing?

If you’re the type who prays (even once in a while), spend some concentrated time praying for Judy. Pray for her healing. Pray for Holly to feel continually grafted into the identity of hers that is most true; that she is Beloved. That when she listens to the voice of Jesus, she might also know more deeply the truth of who He is…who she is in Him particularly in this context of confusion, grief and heartache. 

And pray that for yourself, too. Blessings to those of you journeying through the unforeseen and unwelcome.

Holly’s Take:

This week has been nothing short of surreal. I haven’t even begun to unpack what has happened and what is happening. I feel like I have gone through a lifetime of emotions, yet felt very little, as minutes have ticked away at the hospital. I know bad things happen. I have not been spared from hard, so there was no reason to think this would turn out OK. The circumstances of Tuesday, September 13th, actually could not have gone a lot worse than they did starting at about 10:00 in the morning.  But at about 9:30 at night, one giant movement of my mom’s right arm set hope into this story. What has happened since then has consisted of swells of hopefulness, sleepless nights, another surgery, more wondering, more waiting, nervous stomachs everywhere, and absolute gratitude for life at post stroke day four (THERE IS NO WAY IT HAS JUST BEEN FOUR DAYS!!!!!!!).  My God! My God! My God IS! 

Megan’s Take:

Listening to Holly recount the events of this last week is truly jaw-dropping. I’m sure she will write about the emotional roller-coaster and the miracles she witnessed in her mom’s devastating stroke and beginning recovery, but from my perspective, this testimony continues to remind me that we serve a very big God! Of course, things could have turned out so very differently. If the outcome would have been bleak, we still would turn and praise our great God. We would have so many questions and tears of lament, but today, in this space God’s healing hand has left us all speechless. Or in Judy’s case — regaining, and full of speech! I continue to humbly pray and, hopefully, not take ANY day for granted. 

There are a lot of things on my mind lately, particularly with continuing to try and blend this family.  It is not easy, as every person under this roof has experienced great loss in one form or another.  So, either I have actually had the capacity to think beyond our craziness this summer or I just need a break from it, so I’m writing WAY, WAY, WAY outside my usual box.

I can’t stop feeling this wrestling over the issue of the church and the LGBTQ community. Maybe that is such a weird thing for me to be writing about, but it is holding a tender place in heart right now, which is a strange combination of gratefulness, confusion and wrestling.

I want to start with gratefulness. I feel so grateful and humbled and honored that I have friends that are gay or lesbian.  I feel honored that they know that I love Jesus, yet they have always accepted me. I feel so so so so lucky for that gift. For whatever reason, Manitou seems to have a higher population of lesbians (Ugh – I don’t even know what the PC word is??? Should I just be using “gay”? I need a lot of grace in this area folks) and so, naturally, I have gotten to know some sweet friends that are not in my churchy bubble and that gives me so much life.  

These friendships that I feel so fortunate to have had, all contributed to me taking a longer, harder, hopefully a more gracious look at my heart and this subject.

I just want to tell you about a couple of my friends. One friend was kinda like my bus stop buddy. For two years, she and I were the only two at our bus stop.  I was always itching for adult interaction during those little kid years, so I would pretty much make her talk to me, even if she was trying to look busy grading papers in her car.  And every day, we would talk and laugh and I’m sure she has no idea how much I looked forward to our laughs. 

One night I was taking a walk around the neighborhood a few months after Dave died. The first gal I ran into had been married to another woman for many years and had older kids.  She stopped me and asked how I was doing and she said she had seen me throwing the baseball at the park with Spencer. She said she would love to work with him, if I needed someone to help him with his throwing.  (Based on his throwing now, I should have taken her up on her offer back then . . . although it’s finally starting to look a little better). As I continued on my walk that night, I just happened to come across two more same sex couples that I didn’t really know, but ended up in conversation with them.  I was changed after that night.

I also have one sweet friend who was like my personal nurse during my back surgery era, who was willing to open up and talk freely about her treading into the new waters of dating other women. I still feel so honored that she would trust me with her thoughts and stories, knowing that I love Jesus and that I think the Bible is the truth.  I also feel so honored that she and her partner came to my wedding.  She knew there would be lots of churchy friends and talk about Jesus, but I hope and I think she trusted that me and my friends would be so thrilled that they were there.  I’m so thankful that she gave me the benefit of the doubt . . . that I would not judge her or try to change her or anything else, but care about her (and beat her in ping pong).   

So, all that to say, I feel so fortunate to have people who have trusted me with their stories and it has made me change.  I don’t think of gay and lesbian people as a whole group of people anymore, but as each individual.  I’m sorry that I have not always done that.  

You see, I can’t name one gay person that I knew growing up, except for one and I didn’t realize it until later.  I went to Oklahoma Baptist University, where if someone came out of the the closet, it was like a scandal.  In my 20’s I knew of a few people, but I didn’t KNOW anyone who had a different lifestyle than mine (again, please forgive me if I chose all the wrong phrases or words). 

So, onto the confusion and wrestling. Without the friendships I have made, maybe I would have never made it to the confusing and wrestling stage.  Maybe I would have always stuck to not thinking about it at all, or only going as far as knowing the Bible seems to say it’s not God’s best plan. So, here is the long and the short of it.  I desperately want everyone that I know, no matter their background, their beliefs, their skin color,  their sexual orientation, etc . . . that I care about them as an individual. Every person. I desperately, also, love Jesus.  Jesus is everything to me.  I want to honor the Bible and honor God.  I really don’t think these things are opposed to one another, because God’s love is so far greater and more pure than mine and he loves everyone with a ferocity I will never understand until heaven.  However, I’m not sure that in this society, I can quite figure it out. I mean, I think it is easy, but to convey it is so hard. I know that I am not in a place of judgement.  I know that the Bible calls us to love our neighbor as ourselves.  I WISH the Bible did not say anything about homosexuality being a sin.  I WISH I knew how to interpret it the exact way that God intended. I wish there were clear answers about how to do this. I do appreciate what I heard once about this topic from an old pastor.  “When in doubt, choose grace.”  – Jim Singleton.  That has been so freeing.   

I watched a video this week from one of my favorite childhood pastors. He was always so funny and engaging when he would occasionally speak. But even as funny as he was, he evidently had a secret life of alcoholism for many years. He ended up going to rehab and eventually helped to build a church for people who would not typically walk through the doors of a traditional church.  His heart is GIANT for the marginalized, the hurting, the people who don’t feel loved by God, and a portion of his church are those that feel rejected by the church based on being gay.  Although his heart is huge for each person in his church, his conviction about gay marriage led him to decide that he could not personally officiate a marriage between two people of the same sex.

So, in this video, he was stepping down as co pastor, from “The Refuge,” whose mission is “dedicated to helping hurting and hungry people find faith, hope, and dignity alongside each other.” It also says on their website: “We are old, young, poor, rich, conservative, liberals, single, married, gay, straight, evangelicals, progressives, book-smart, street smart, certain, doubting, hurting, thriving.” Upon watching the video, it seemed to me, like he didn’t want to be the cause of hurting anyone, but he also had to hold fast to what he believed was true. I literally watched that video and cried . . . WAY harder than I thought I would. Cried for the pain and hurt that surrounds people not feeling loved, people who feel misunderstood, people who are trying to love and everything in between this issue(“issue” seems like too light of a word, doesn’t it?).  I know God doesn’t need me to defend him, so I don’t need to take a defensive posture.  I do want to honor God, (although I don’t all the time in other areas), I do believe the Bible is truth and I want to know the truth of what God is saying and not think that I can make it fit to what I WANT it to say. I believe that God would never want anyone to feel unloved and uncared for, based on following Him.  So, how do I do this?  The only thing I know, is that as long as I am wrestling with this, I have no pride in thinking that I know the answers. Without answers, I have to continually be connected to God and I know I just need to keep loving others and being aware of my OWN enormous amounts of sin. 

Thanks for grace from all sides of this whole deal. I’m sure I delivered all kinds of unintended messages in here.  I claim to know very little, but I hope that my heart is somewhat understood. I typically only write about my life, which isn’t all that controversial, so this is certainly new for me. (Hopefully, this isn’t controversial, either).  I have actually tried to write a couple different posts, but I just kept feeling like this is the one I needed to write.

Christina’s Take:

“….as long as I am wrestling with this, I have no pride in thinking that I know the answers…” That is the key to this post. I think part of living in a thriving, dynamic culture is continually being willing to work out what we believe and be willing to understand things in a new way. This is so so important. Sometimes I want to say to my gay and lesbian friends, “I’m so sorry for the way Christians have marginalized you and I’m so sorry for the ways that I have done that to you. I really like you and I don’t want you to think there’s more to our friendship than the connection we’re enjoying right here and now.” Thanks for blogging about this – I hope there’s a rich conversation filled with kindness and creativity that ensues.

Megan’s Take:

Another key phrase to me is, “I’m sorry if I haven’t always done that.” Recognizing there are numerous occasions when we speak without thinking or judge too quickly (or at all) is an important first step. In this world of so many factions, it’s easy to lump a whole group of people into one label. To dismiss or view as “less than”, but Jesus never did that. “Us” and “them” is such a dangerous mentality. He always looked at each person as an individual, wholly and dearly loved. My prayer is to live with Jesus’ eyes. Eyes to see the image of God in each and every person — with a story and a longing to be loved and known. Like you, Holly, I wrestle with so many things. I truly have no answers except — JESUS. At the end of the day, He is speaking to each of us and our job is to open our hearts to hear what he has to say and (hopefully) walk in his way as one body — one people. I recently heard a pastor say, “Unity is not possible apart from diversity. Apart from diversity you just have uniformity.” Unity in Jesus is what I hope for as we continue to see His Kingdom come…