Category Archives: Christian Life

Maybe This Will Help

Sometimes life piles on. You get one bit of bad news after the other, you find yourself responding to yet another crisis, or you’re dealing with the fortieth difficult personality of the week. Before you know it, you feel like a random spark is going to set the whole pyre ablaze and take you with it.

And then you turn on the news.

Whose idea was this 24-hour news cycle anyway? It just means we keep hearing the same negative developments, the worst of the political rancor, and the most shocking accounts of human depravity … every 15-30 minutes. The mere repetition of the reports makes it feel like things are even worse than they are. And with few exceptions, there’s very little you or I can do about any of it by following it in the media except get agitated, outraged, and even fearful. If I’ve had too much coffee, it can get really exhausting.

Honestly, I could do with a little less of that. So here’s what I’m planning to do: Continue reading Maybe This Will Help

I’m Firing Olivia Pope

(Right off the bat, let me assure you: this post has NOTHING to do with politics.)

If you’ve seen the TV drama ‘”Scandal”, you know Olivia Pope as the fictional “fixer” who averts or minimizes crises for the President of the United States. She swoops in and manages his reputation, spins events to his political advantage, and helps him avoid embarrassment. She can reframe the most compromising situations so he always looks respectable. (Of course, in the show, she also does other things – and so does he – that indicate questionable character, but I’ll limit my analogy to the “fixer” part of her role here.)

Here’s the thing: I often feel like I would like my own Olivia Pope. Someone who can run interference,  polish me up, and make me seem like a better version of myself than I really am. And you know who I’m inclined to appoint to that position? Me.

I laughingly tell people all the time that my life’s goal is to: “Never humiliate yourself; others are far too willing to do it for you.” I’m only half kidding when I say that. But I don’t think I’m alone in this, am I? I think we’re all control freaks to some extent when it comes to how we want to be perceived by other people.

For example: Continue reading I’m Firing Olivia Pope

I’m crossing some things off my list this year

A couple of years ago, I jumped on the “resolution revolution” bandwagon and joined an initiative called OneWord365. The idea was that instead of making New Year’s resolutions (which never worked for me), participants would choose a single word to focus on for the entire year, a word that would sum up “who you want to be or how you want to live”. That year, I decided on the word “harmony”.

I had chosen it prayerfully, knowing that being mindful of this word could change the soundtrack of my life if I let it. I began to “take a beat” before I reacted to things, and ask myself, “Do I know this to be true?” And further,  “Is my response in this situation going to create harmony or jeopardize it?” This practice became reflexive over time and helpful in a variety of ways.

I’m back on the bandwagon this year, and I’ve chosen a word (again, prayerfully) that seems to particularly resonate at this point in my life.

My word for 2017 is “Release”.

If you know me, you know that I’m something of a perfectionist. (Okay, maybe a lot of a perfectionist.) And the truth is, being a perfectionist – though it might sound desirable – can actually hamstring my effectiveness in both my professional and personal life. I would argue it’s a cowardly way to be and I need to knock it off. That means I need to do more than just loosen my grip; I need to drop the reins entirely and get off the dang horse, handing over control to God.

The first step to doing this, I’ve concluded, is for me to identify the root of this need for control. What makes me want to take over and do everything in my power to manage outcomes . . . or wring my hands with worry when I can’t? Why do I hold myself to an impossibly high and thoroughly unhelpful standard?

To be fair, I think we all do this, at least to some extent. We hedge our bets, we try not to care too much, we hide, we pretend we’ve got it together, and some of us become perfectionists as “insurance” against failure. And still, we fail. So why do we do that?

Once I figure out my underlying motivation, I believe I’ll be headed in the right direction.

Now before you give me “that look” because you’re skeptical that I can change this tendency of mine at this late date, let me add this. I still intend to do what I do with excellence, because that honors God. But I’m going to make it a priority not to try and micromanage my life, because that’s a losing proposition (and frankly, exhausting). And honestly? I have a habit of letting things go and then taking them back, so I’m going to need God’s help if there’s to be lasting change.

So here I go. Already I’m starting to get some clarity on this just by landing on the word and I intend to probe it with intentionality in the coming months. I’m excited to see what God puts His finger on for me to release this year.

Maybe the process will help you, too.

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I learned a new word

When you think of the Puritans, do you envision a group that had it together, faith-wise? Super pious and dialed-in to God in a way the rest of us could only imagine? Speaking in “thees” and “thous” like old English poets or certain translations of inspired scripture? I do. Or at least I did.

I have a book of Puritan prayers, a Christmas gift from a dear friend a few years back. I regularly pick it up to ponder the eloquent way they expressed their deep and authentic relationship with God back then. I want to be inspired in my own prayer life and this helps.

Interestingly, I’ve found from these prayers that the Puritan “saints” wrestled with doubts, temptations, and failures just like the rest of us. Fortunately, many of them journaled their meditations and contemplations, not for publication but for the exercise and deepening of their personal faith. Their writings provide the source material for the book . . .  and some enduring lessons for me.

Recently I read a selection titled “Weaknesses” and learned a new word: carking. I can honestly say I had never heard this term before but in context it makes perfect sense. Continue reading I learned a new word

Gosh, people are a mess

Do you ever feel that way? I find myself saying, “What is WRONG with people?” when I’m frustrated for any of a variety of reasons.

  • Did they really think cutting me off in traffic would gain them an advantage of more than one car length?
  • Can they seriously not hear how they just interrupted to turn the conversation back to themselves . . . again?
  • Don’t they get it that the promises of that politician are empty?

As if I’ve got it together and they don’t.

jigsaw puzzleMy husband’s uncle is a great lover of jigsaw puzzles — the 1,000 piece, really challenging ones that, as we used to say in the South, “could make a preacher cuss”. He can spend hours focused on one of these things, not giving up until he finishes it, which by the way, he always does. And then he starts another. He’s amazing.

There’s something about interacting with and understanding people, especially those I care about (and even those I don’t), that reminds me of those puzzles. Continue reading Gosh, people are a mess

I’ll take the red carnation, thank you – revisiting an odd tradition

This post was originally published for Mother’s Day 2014. It is as relevant now as it ever was, so I am reposting it this year in honor of my sweet Mama. To those of you who never knew her, you missed a real lady.   

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red-Carnations38Recently, I was handed a red carnation as an acknowledgement of my participation in a community event. Looking at it, I was reminded of a tradition in many churches when I was growing up.

On Mother’s Day, at least in the South, when you went to church you wore a carnation on your lapel or dress – a red one if your mother was alive, a white one if she had died. (Do you remember this?) Continue reading I’ll take the red carnation, thank you – revisiting an odd tradition

The surprising thing about “weakness”

IMG_9610.PNGWho among us hasn’t wondered about the role of prayer in the overall scheme of things? Almost no one turns down an offer of prayer in a crisis, but why do we pray when God already knows what He’s going to do? Can we change His mind? What’s different about prayers offered silently and in private, versus praying aloud with others?

For all these questions about prayer there are surely an equal number of deep theological responses (which I for sure don’t have). But I find there’s beauty in wrestling with our uncertainty and lovely things to discover about our God as we communicate with Him.

Here’s an example from just this week: Continue reading The surprising thing about “weakness”

The holiness of a four-way stop

It’s rush hour on my usually-quiet suburban street. Well, maybe not rush “hour”, exactly. It’s really only about 15 minutes.

From around 7:10 to 7:25 most every morning during the school year, the street in front of my house is bumper to bumper with high school students trying to get to classes on time.

IMG_3496bfree-largeSchool starts at 7:30 and they’re lined up at the four-way stop, struggling to properly yield the right of way to each other (as they oh-so-recently learned in driver’s ed). Now and then, I hear someone sound their horn over whatever perceived infraction just took place. That usually happens as it gets closer to 7:30 and the possibility of being late becomes more real.

Oh, and sympathies to you if you have to back out of your driveway during that time frame. Taking turns and being nice apparently only applied to kindergarten. I may have muttered about this from time to time over the years…

Interestingly, I’ve found that there’s something positive and even holy about this brief traffic jam in front of my house each morning. It gives me an opportunity to see the individual young faces in those cars and wonder if anyone has prayed for them yet today. Maybe not. (I’m thinking, most likely not.) So lately, I’ve started praying.

I start with the obvious prayers like,

Lord, please keep these young people safe at school today, encourage them to be responsible and make wise choices, protect them from peer pressure, help them learn and grow into good citizens.

Then it goes a little deeper:

Let them know that they have value, surprise them with encouragement today from an unexpected source, give them courage for whatever battle they face, make them sensitive to the pain of the marginalized around them.

Ultimately, and arguably most important, I arrive here:

Let them recognize Your hand on their lives, soften their hearts toward faith, welcome them into a relationship with You.

Even if you don’t live near a high school or have teenagers in your life currently, they’re out there–I see them every day from my living room window–and they could use your prayers. Adolescence is a tumultuous time, you may recall, and this rough world isn’t getting any better any time soon.

For sure, if you have a student at the high school in my town and they drive past my house in the morning, you can know they’re going to get prayed for. Maybe running late and getting stuck in traffic at the four-way stop isn’t the worst thing for them, after all.

And for me, it beats muttering.

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The simple song lyric that undid me

A friend of mine is fond of muttering, “Hell in a handbasket, my dear. Hell in a handbasket.” This is usually in response to:

  • yet another crass reality TV show in the lineup,
  • an encounter with a rude or texting driver,
  • sloppy workmanship in an already overpriced product,

. . . or any of a number of other “proofs” that society is unraveling at a meteoric rate.

It’s become so common, we’ve adopted a kind of shorthand between us. My friend now just looks at me and says, “Handbasket!” Enough said.

It’s easy to default to negative thinking these days, though, isn’t it? You look around at the alarming lack of civility among so-called leaders;  the deep divides along racial, religious, and socioeconomic lines; the creeping fear of violence and danger at every turn . . . and you can start to despair.

If you’re like me, sometimes you’re tempted to turn off the news, gather your loved ones, and just hide,  if only that would help. 

“Handbasket!” Right?

IMG_9488But this past Sunday, a single line in a song at church opened my eyes to a really important truth. We were singing “Strong God”* (listen to it here) and there’s a line that says, “This is God in His holy place.”
Just that one lyric was all it took to pierce my heart and change my perspective.

Continue reading The simple song lyric that undid me

You can try all you want but you will fail at this

file9101267653593This was so long ago, it almost seems like it happened to someone else. But no, I was there.

Some friends and I were invited to a coworker’s 4th of July picnic, where we were surrounded by several members of her extended family who could barely stand each other.

Her brother was there with his common law wife, there was another  brother who had just been released from prison, and the oldest brother, who didn’t approve of either one and made no secret of it. The dad, a self-important control freak, was going to see to it that things were done a certain way (his way) and on his very precise schedule, while the rest of the family and friends held their breath for the blowup.

Oh, and it was about 100 degrees and humid.

People were just starting to relax and cool off in the shade. To everyone’s relief, it seemed a bit of a “cease fire” had taken hold. That’s when BD (Blowhard Dad) decided it was time to fire up the grill. He completely ignored his wife’s suggestion that, Everyone is comfortable right now, dear. Maybe we could wait awhile to eat?

No. He overcooked all the hamburgers, charred the hot dogs, and then announced to everyone that the food was ready, come get it.

When Elder Son (who did not approve of his father, either) announced to BD that no one wanted a burger; no one was hungry yet, BD blew up. “You’ll all eat now and enjoy it.” The air was instantly sucked right out of that backyard.

Yep, he got everyone to eat, but for all his bluster and bullying, BD could not make anyone enjoy that meal and it infuriated him.

All these years later, I remember thinking to myself, “I don’t care who you are, you can’t legislate my good time.”

And that got me thinking. You know what else you can’t do? Continue reading You can try all you want but you will fail at this