Something’s Gotta Happen

I think I know how Moses felt when he walked into the river bed before the waters parted. The seconds felt like hours. Actual heat from thousands of pairs of skeptical, fearful, expectant eyes behind him burned through his neck. The reality that he could drown seemed likely, if not certain, and he contemplated whether that wouldn’t be preferable to the shame of facing everyone if he was wrong about what God wanted them to do.

He passed the point of no return, but everything in front of him screamed impossible…literally, impassable.

Something’s gotta happen.

The last few steps were excruciating. He knew God told him to lead, to free the people from slavery, to escape the most powerful army in the world, but he had no idea, and certainly no guarantee, of how it was going to work. Nothing in history offered the hint that the waters would, or even could, actually part.

Something’s gotta happen.

If you’ve ever said “Yes” to God, you’ve been here. It’s not always as dramatic, and there’s not always so much at stake, but it feels like it to you because you’re the one in over your head. The options aren’t “sink or swim.” They are “drown or be rescued.” The outcome is not in your hands.

Something’s gotta happen.

Do you want to go deeper in your faith? Do you want to experience the power of God in ways you’ve only ever read about or heard about from someone else? Find yourself in the place were something’s gotta happen.

How do you get to that place? It’s not by accident. You need to ENGAGE. Here are five points of engagement that are consistent in Scripture:

Engagement Graphic_Make an Investment

I explain it more here.

Moses found out that it’s just at the point where something’s gotta happen that something always does. I can tell the same story, different sets of circumstances. So can many others.

How about you?

It’s time.

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You Need to Go to Church

Are you ready? I’m about to rant. Here we go…

We do not go to church to check a box. We do not go to church to prove that we are holy, or to get our gold star for the week. We do not go to church, well, really at all, because we are the church so the verbiage is confusing. But, you know what I’m saying, and this is a rant, so just go with me.

We don’t go to church because it’s the only way to have a relationship with Jesus. We don’t go to church to get something from the message or the music, and we definitely don’t go to worship because we like the preacher or the music. And speaking of the preacher, we don’t go to church to make him/her feel better (although, Lord help a sister, I worry when y’all don’t show up). We don’t go to church for the free childcare (unless you do, in which case that’s cool sometimes, because sanity). We don’t even go to church because Jesus told us to. I’ve read the book a few times and it doesn’t really come up in his messages.

HOWEVER, I am absolutely convinced that going to worship (see how I fixed the verbiage issue?) is unequivocally the most important thing we do every single week as followers of Jesus. Let me say that again – Going to worship is unequivocally the most important thing we do every single week as followers of Jesus.

Before you start arguing with me and pushing back, and especially after I gave you all those reasons why not – here are a few of the reasons I believe it’s true:

  1. We go to church worship for what we give, not what we get. In worship, we set aside our need for value-add and efficiency, and do something for God. We make space to give Him our hearts, tell Him thank you – individually and collectively – for what He has done. Sure, we think we’ll make time to do that on our own, and hopefully we do, but showing up for worship – taking time, making space, prioritizing the glory of God – that’s a big deal. It’s a move of faith. It’s a profound statement to others, and to ourselves, about what matters most. And the crazy thing is, when we go for that reason, we always get something in return. (God is simply that good.)
  2. We go to worship for the next person(s), ideally the ones we have invited. As we grow in our faith, we get better and better at finding our way into the presence of God on our own. We get more comfortable praying and reading the Bible, and even singing our hearts out and raising our hands in the car – not caring what the people around us think. We discover that we can find God and grow in all sorts of places. In fact, all of the places. But very few of us start there in our relationship with God. Part of showing up is making space for the next person to find their voice and their pace with God. It’s knowing that our showing up makes it possible for someone else to dip their toe in the water.
  3. We go to worship because God told us He would be there – every time. “Where two or three are gathered…” Why wouldn’t we show up somewhere with a 100% guarantee that God would be there too?
  4. We go to worship to change our perspective. Both Louie Giglio, pastor of Passion City Church, and James Galloway, the worship and creative arts director at Ashley Ridge Church, have told their stories of going on the London Eye and how it impacted their worship. You get in at street level and before you know it, you are high above the city with the perfect view of Big Ben, Parliament, BuckinghamPalace, the Tower of London, and more. You’re in the same city, but the perspective changed as your eyes were lifted by the experience. Worship lifts our eyes and shifts our perspective. We still don’t see everything God sees, but we see the obstacles and circumstances differently. As we tell and re-tell the stories of our faith in community, our perspective changes. It’s why God set a rhythm in place of stopping once every week to make room for the shift to happen.
  5. We go to worship to remember. Just before the Israelites crossed over the Jordan River into the Promised Land after escaping slavery in Egypt and wandering in the desert for 40 years, Moses sits everyone down for a little chat. In the midst of the conversation, he repeats the Ten Commandments God gave him on Mt. Sinai, only this time he adds some commentary. When he got to the one about keeping a sabbath day holy, he doesn’t focus on the part about not working. Instead, he focuses on the idea that we have to stop working so that we tell the stories and actively remember what God has done. Moses understood that if we didn’t set aside time to remember, we would most certainly forget – forget that God moves mountains, and splits rivers, and brings dead things back to life. And if He did it before, doesn’t it give us faith and confidence He will do it again? Remembering matters. A shared history and experience of faith matters.

School is about to start. Our lives are all CRAZY. But I want to challenge you as you set schedules and make commitments to make worship a priority. Say your best yes to the things that matters most. Don’t live your life on empty when the filling station is always open.

 

Choosing a Better Story

I’ve read/listened to Donald Miller’s “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years” at least 2-3 times. If you haven’t read it yet, I definitely recommend it. If you don’t like to read or your current reading list is too long, then just read chapter nine – it’s only six pages. You can do it right now if you want…

Did you read it? It’s incredible, right? I’ve re-told the story from chapter nine so many times I’ve lost count. Some of you didn’t read it, so here’s the quick version: There’s a family with a teenage daughter whose making some bad choices (drugs, loser boyfriend, etc.). So the dad decides it’s time for their family to offer her a different story and he tells them they’re going to build an orphanage for $25k. It will involve risk, sacrifice, and a lot of work. At first, they think he’s crazy, but soon enough they all get excited and the daughter comes up with all sorts of ideas about how they can make it work. A few months later, the family is connecting in ways they haven’t in years and the daughter breaks up with the boyfriend after he tells her she’s too fat. As the dad says, “No girl who plays the role of a hero dates a guy who uses her. She knows who she is. She just forgot for a little while.”

She chose a better story.

What if we all got to choose a better story? What if we created families and communities where people had roles and knew they had value and potential to make a difference?

Is it time for you to start writing a better story with your life?

I love watching circles grow and write stories together – friend circles, family circles, neighborhood circles, all of the circles. I am convinced that if you want to grow relationships and write better stories, you should serve together. There’s nothing quite like shared experiences where you stretch and move outside of your comfort zones, and in the process learned to depend on each other.

 

Part of the heart behind our Expanding the Table food truck at Ashley Ridge Church is having a vehicle for families and circles to serve together. A lot of outreach opportunities aren’t available to kids, and with good reason, but we wanted a space where people of all ages could interact and share a meal together, a place where kids could learn they already have everything they need to make a difference and give back to their community. They can choose a better story than the one being offered via the smart-mouth television shows supposedly meant for them (any other parents feeling me here? Get it together tv-land!).

Traywick Pierce ETTJake and Bry at ETT

Life is hard and sometimes we end up writing and living the stories we never intended, but we get to choose a better story because Jesus wrote a different ending. If you need somewhere to start – call your circle and go do something that matters together.

Life is Better Together

In 2013, our church made its mantra “Life is Better Together,” which quickly adapted to hashtag status as #BetterTogether. In the years since, many others have adopted and used the same mantra, making us believe we really are on to something. (Also making us think we should have patented it – not because we wouldn’t have gladly shared, but because companies like Apple used it and we would have welcomed their financial support in our building process. I’m just sayin’.)

better-together-1024-1024

There’s a book I could write on everything we’ve learned in the last six years of living out this idea, but for now, I wanted to share just a few observations:

  1. . It’s true. Life really is better together. It’s not just a catchy phrase, or and idea that sounds like it should be true, but isn’t. Life is actually better together.
  2. . Better is not the same thing as easier. In fact, I’m pretty certain life is not easier together. People are complicated, and the more of them we have in our lives, the more complicated things become. We need each other, but we have to fight to stick with the process because, as with most things in life that are worth it, it ain’t easy…or obvious.
  3. It all starts with our need for God. Of the three core beliefs (i.e. We Need God, We Need Each Other, and The World Needs Us) that we place under the mantra, the easiest to shrug aside as either obvious or unnecessary is the first. Only the first is the most true thing I know to be true. Our lives are better together with God. We need Him. Every day and every hour we need Him. And even when we don’t acknowledge God’s presence, He is there, making life a reality. God could have done life without us, but instead He chose us. It was God who decided from the beginning that life was better together. And so, He created. And in the midst of creation, He decided that not only did He want man to share in the beauty of creation, but that the one “not good” thing in creation was for man to be alone. And so, God created the woman. It must have been omitted from the earliest manuscripts, but if there was a Genesis 2:18b it would probably read “because life is better together.”

Reason #3 is why worship matters so much. In worship, we get to remember who God is and what God does. We get to be intentional about not shrugging off God as obvious or unnecessary. We get to change our perspective over and over in order to see like God sees.

I worship everyday. I worship by myself in the car, in my office, and at the kitchen table because sometimes it needs to be just me and God. I worship with my kids and my husband at night because it matters that the common language and foundation of our home is our faith in God.

I worship every week in community with other people, also known as the Church. It matters that it happens every week because we get to set our lives in rhythm with God, and because God gave the Holy Spirit to us collectively so that when we are together we get the fullest sense of who He is.

When you’ve been in the presence of Jesus in a way that you know it, you can’t wait to get back and bring as many people as possible with you. You could say it lots of ways, but for me, it’s because life is better together!

Managing the Tension between Change and Consistency

There are two kinds of families: the ones that eat store-bought cookies, and the ones that stick to homemade cookies. My family, both the one I grew up with and the one I have now, falls decidedly in the homemade cookie category with one notable exception…OREOS!

We love Oreos. I love Oreos – double-stuff, mega-stuff, all of the stuff! I would eat them on a plane, on a train, and in the rain. I like them on their own, dipped in milk, and definitely in my homemade ice cream. Forget the green eggs and ham. I love Oreos, Sam I Am!

I also thrive on change, which means the parade of differently flavored Oreos over the last couple of years has been right up my alley. I’ve tried almost all of them – candy corn

oreos

Oreos, mocha Oreos, s’more Oreos, marshmallow krispy Oreos, peppermint Oreos, and more. I played the Mystery Oreo game (those were gross!). I even tried the recently released cherry cola Oreos – probs not the best idea you’ve had, Nabisco, but, let’s definitely talk about making the key lime Oreos a regular deal! (I know, you’re wondering how I’m not 500 pounds with all of this Oreo eating – Answer: I’m raising boys. If I’m lucky I get to eat one or two cookies out of a pack before they are all gone.)

Change is good. It can be fun, and it definitely creates momentum. But too much change can be confusing. There’s something to be said for consistency and constancy. We all want to know what and who we can count on.

To borrow another Andy Stanley-ism, we have to know which things are problems to solve and which are tensions to manage. I believe change and consistency represent a tension to manage. We need both – the new and the same, the willingness to try different things and the wisdom to keep going down the same road even when it gets bumpy.

Part of managing the tension is knowing which way you lean naturally.

As mentioned, I lean toward change, which means I need people in my life and guardrails in place to keep me from changing too readily and too quickly. Once I’m convinced a change is the right call, I’m ready yesterday and eager to move to implementation. I’ve learned through trial and error that those kinds of knee-jerk reactions (especially when you’re in the pilot seat) can create chaos and confusion. I’ve learned to slow down and ask questions like, “If we make this change, what does the timeline need to look like so others are ready and we’re all prepared? What are the potential side effects of this change that we need to mitigate or prepare for? Who needs to know about this change well before it happens?”

If you lean the other direction, toward consistency, you need to have people in your life who are willing to challenge your assumptions and ask questions like, “Is there anything you’re hanging onto for comfort that is actually holding you back? What is the possible gain from making a change that could outweigh the effort of getting there?”

We need both – change and consistency, regular Oreos and double stuff (although for the life of me, I can’t understand why you wouldn’t want more filling!).

Which way do you lean? What questions would you add to help navigate the tension?

 

 

 

 

To the Ladies Living Strong in their Skin

A few weeks ago a new book came out and several of my friends posted about it on Instagram. I didn’t know the author, but they did and they were excited to celebrate the release, and the woman who wrote it.  Because several people I knew were posting, I took an immediate interest. I leaned in (as Sheryl Sandberg would have me do), and then I saw the title – “The Third Option: Why a Woman Doesn’t Have to Choose between a Career and Family, but Can Actually Have Both and Succeed.”

Ha! I’ve written a similar book in my head over and over again, only it goes back and forth between – “Nope, you can’t have it all.” And, “Of Course You Can, Just Don’t Expect to be Happy Too.” Shannon Miles gets all the credit for actually writing a book, which means she sorted her thoughts and wrestled them to the ground and created something helpful.

Shannon Miles

I got to meet Shannon Miles two weeks ago at the ReThink Conference – she’s fantastic!

I’m still stuck in the snark phase of the conversation. And if I’m really honest, the ugly part of me is even stuck in the dismissive phase where I see a book like Shannon’s and immediately look to see what her career is, because surely it can’t be the same as mine. Women – we’re our own worst enemies, and I am so sorry and ashamed for my participation in that.

I struggle with the “fairer sex,” whatever that means. I’ve always gravitated toward the guys in the room. In high school, my best friends were guys. In college and grad school – I hung out with the guys. Even now, if you put me in a room with couples, and the women and men naturally gravitate toward their own circles, I’m more comfortable in the circle with the guys.

This may explain why I don’t like women’s ministry. I’m not against it. It’s just, by definition, all women, and I’m not comfortable in that space. See also women’s retreats and “Magnificent Mom” mornings at school.

It’s not that I don’t like women. I even have really good friends who are women. One is a pediatrician, one is a kindergarten teacher, one is a foster mom, and one owns and operates her own business (her employees include her husband and a homeless man named Ronnie). These women are game-changing, gravity-defying, faith-filled giants. When I sing along with Kelly Clarkson to “Whole Lotta Woman” – these women are the ones I picture, along with my mom and my sister (more on them later).

Women like these, and so many others, really do run the world as Beyoncé intones – only I’m not sure it’s because they’re women. I think it’s because they’re living on purpose, and the most extraordinary among them are refusing to have their life and role defined in comparison with others, male or female. They are comfortable in their own skin, or at least trying to be.

I believe God made men and women different – and that it’s good. I gave birth to my second son with no drugs (and yes, I would like several gold stars for this feat even though centuries of women have done the same – they can have gold stars too). I know my husband could not have endured the pain I felt that day, and it’s not because I’m better or stronger or more powerful than him. It’s because I’m built for the task and he is not.

Women and men are different and there should be lots of space to celebrate those differences, but we shouldn’t need to tear down one to build the other. We can help each other in the best possible ways. We can also make each other bananas, which is why dating has been the source of the greatest literary and cinematic comedies for years.

I have a friend who used to tell me that when it comes to dating women, there is sane, pretty, and smart, and you can only get two out of three. His theory was that finding all three is like looking for a unicorn, so when you find someone who fits two of them, you should stick around and probably marry her. Take his theory for what you will – he was mostly kidding. Personally, I feel like most women have all three, just rarely in her possession all at the same time. Which brings me back to having it all…

I don’t think you can. You can have a lot. Certainly families and careers can co-exist and I reference you back to the likes of Shannon Miles and Sheryl Sandberg who’ve done the legwork on that tandem. But we need to own the fact that whatever we decide we want also means deciding what we don’t want, or at least what we’re willing to sacrifice to have the other.

My sister is upper management for an international paper company. She has worked for the same company for eighteen years, having started with them immediately out of college. Her years with the company have included four moves, numerous promotions and department changes, one major recession, a complete overhaul of their industry, and lots and lots of travel. The company has not yet had a female occupy a VP role, but my sister will likely be the first, and likely before she turns 45 years old. Basically, she’s awesome. She has done all of this while maintaining a healthy marriage for the same amount of time, and giving birth to three children who by all accounts are surviving and thriving at the ages of 14, 11 and 10. Her stout resume also includes three Avon Breast Cancer Walks, multiple half marathons, and the running of numerous ministries in their church and community, including the women’s ministry at her church in their last town (that part I can’t explain).

She will be the first to tell you she misses a lot. She misses baseball games and swim meets and dance recitals and school programs. She misses family dinners and sleep – lots and lots of sleep. Her husband doesn’t work full-time outside of their home. He is a brilliant teacher and historian, but he gave it up when the birth of child number three ran right into move number three. It’s a privilege for their family to be able to make that decision, but it’s also a sacrifice, and one they continually navigate.

It would be easy for people on the outside to judge the decisions my sister and her husband have made. It’s not lost on them that others may think she is a bad mom for the number of things she misses, or that he is less of a man for staying at home. I struggle with the women in this conversation more than the men, myself included, because instead of allowing space for others to make decisions and sacrifices, we assuage our own varying levels of career envy and mommy-guilt by trying to find more women to mirror our own decisions and sacrifices. We feign confidence but we’re desperate for reassurance.

I often find myself stuck between wanting to feel special for the work I do that few other women do, and wanting to deny my womanhood completely so it doesn’t have to be a thing for me to defend or empower. I don’t want to be a woman in ministry, I want to be a person in ministry who happens to be a woman – especially since my calling isn’t specifically to women’s ministry. But I’m also lonely a lot of the time because there is something different about being a woman in the role I’m in, and darn it all if I don’t desperately want people to see it and to get it – and, ouch, affirm it.

I talk a big game about knowing I’m doing what God called me to do, but most days I wonder if I’m wrecking my kids, holding back the church, and basically a complete and total hypocrite. I wish I had a bit more gumption, which brings me to my mom.

My mom took herself to church as a little girl. She grew up in the city and decided she wanted to check it out. So one Sunday morning, she got up, put on a dress, and walked a few blocks down the street and through the doors of the closest church. I can’t imagine what the people who saw her must have thought. She liked it though, and kept going back. Eventually her twin sister came along, and then her mom, and soon enough, on rare occasions, her older brothers and her dad would come too.

Spring in New York

Mom, Sister, Me in NYC

I love that about my mom. She’s by far the quietest one in our family (quiet being relative – we’re a pretty loud bunch), and in a sea of strongly-held opinions, she is the peace-maker who simply wants to make sure everyone is included and having fun. But without prompting or even invitation, she took herself to church as a kid. I like to picture her doing it. I would have gotten dressed really loudly and made a production of my decision to try something new, and be “different,” but that’s not my mom at all. She probably got dressed as quietly as she could and slipped out the front door and back in as inconspicuously as possible. She didn’t go to make a point. She went because she wanted to – for her, and for someone bigger she could sense even then. She didn’t feel the need to impress. She just felt the need to go, and so she did.

My mom and her twin sister went on to be the first in their family to go to college. Mom got a degree in music and education. She sings like an angel, which you can tell just by hearing her laugh. She could have done a million different things. She chose to marry my dad and move into the old slave’s quarters of an estate in Princeton, NJ, and work at a bank to help support my dad while he finished seminary. She chose to take job after job as a teacher’s assistant so she could freely move with my dad whenever necessary. She said yes to a life in ministry even though no one ever ordained her or paid her to do it. She spent years directing the church choir as a volunteer and leading Vacation Bible School. She started the prayer ministry, and when churches first began gravitating away from Sunday School and toward small groups for adults, my mom paved the way and led a women’s group that stayed together for over a decade. She also planned and led multiple women’s retreats (yes, the same ones I would avoid like the plague – clearly, the issue is mine).

My mom became the quintessential pastor’s wife, and she did it on purpose without anyone telling her it was the role she was supposed to fill, and she did it while raising two daughters with the gift of her presence at home and also her permission and encouragement to do otherwise – as long as we were listening to God above everything and everyone else. None of this is to say she doesn’t at times regret the opportunities she may have had, or things she may have missed. But we all make choices and we get to own the growth that comes from them.

Also, worth mentioning – my mom started running when she turned 60 and has since done multiple half marathons and other races. She is my hero in every sense of the word!

running with Laura and Mom

A few years ago, our local newspaper named me a “Woman to Watch.” It came with a picture and a write-up and a reception where we were honored and given gifts. My favorite was the “Women to Watch” drinking glass with the logo of the ob/gyn on the back who was sponsoring the event. My kids were ages 3 and 1, and I was a few years into planting a church that still had the opportunity to succeed and break new ground in the church world, or implode without warning. I was equally flattered and mortified by the “Woman to Watch” moniker. While the other women being honored brought family members and friends to the reception, I told no one, brought only my husband, and slipped away early.

As I said, I’m still struggling. I’m long on snark and short on certainty, but grateful for the skin I’m in and the incredible women who amaze me every day as they walk their walk and live on purpose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a Question of Placement

The lady married to my husband is a real piece of work. She gets stressed about work, takes it out on him. Her kids act up, takes it out on him. Frustrated with herself, yup, takes that out on him too.

Man, she’s hard to live with. I should know.

Sometimes I wonder if other people just handle stress better, have perfect kids, and are totally content. That must be why their relationships look happier…

Of course, the other option is that they’re just shoving everything deep inside, or behind a closed door. Repression, maybe that’s the key…except, no, it’s not. I’ve done that too.

So, assuming the perfect kids, 100% stress-free environments, and personal perfection are out of the question, where should we actually go with all of the stuff we’re carrying? It’s easy to ask the people closest to us to carry it, and most of the good ones will really want to, and many will even try, but they have stuff too. And trading stuff can provide temporary relief, but it’s never a long-term plan.

So, back to the question – where do we go with all of the stuff?

Jesus says, “I’ve got you. Bring it all to me.” (Matthew 11:28)

And while that sounds good, most of us don’t do that either. We’re either afraid to talk to God at all, or we’re busy being too polite and proper – talking to God the way we think we’re supposed to talk to God.

But what if God wants the unedited, honest version? What if God can handle it and is, ultimately, the only one who can do anything about it? What if God loves you so much that He cares about what you care about because He so desperately cares about you?

We all have stuff – good stuff, bad stuff, and indifferent stuff. Having stuff is part of life. It’s a question of placement.

We can ruin good marriages by expecting the other person to deal with all of our stuff. We can run off friends with our pretending that we think is working. We can drown silently and alone.

Or, we can take it all to God.

That’s the one I recommend.

(Check out more with week three of Andy Stanley’s “What Happy Couples Know: Sometimes You Have to Throw Things”)

 

 

 

Expectation Frustration

Of all the track and field events I did in high school, high jump felt the craziest. Fortunately, cell phones didn’t exist when I was in high school, much less phones with cameras, so there is no evidence of my brief high jumping career. But in case you’ve never seen the event, here ya go. The whole idea is to see how high you can get the bar and still get over it without knocking it down.

I wasn’t great at the event, but mentally I embraced the idea of setting a high bar and going for it. I wasn’t even deterred when my knee came crashing down into my nose during practice leaving both me and the mat covered in blood. I live for high bars.

My poor husband.

When we were dating, I think he found my drive attractive. Little did he know how readily and eagerly (and with little to no awareness), I would share my high expectations with those closest to me, which is why the first message in the “What Happy Couples Know” series hit hard and true. If you missed it, check it out here. The short version is that if we’re not careful, we take all of our hopes, dreams and desires and hand them to our spouse as a set of expectations. And expectations create a debt/debtor relationship. And those kinds of relationships leave little to no room for things like gratitude and love.

Yea, so…I did that to Clark when we got married. Oops.

I didn’t know I did it. I didn’t mean to do it. But I did, hard core. I walked boldly into marriage and the rest of our lives with expectations falling nowhere short of perfection – perfect marriage, perfect kids, perfect life. Bless my heart.

One of our biggest fights happened the first day home after our honeymoon. We got back to our shiny, new apartment on Friday night and I was headed back to work at the church where I was interning on Sunday morning. Clark went back to work on Monday. So, naturally, on Saturday, I got up early and started the laundry, made a grocery list, began putting away wedding gifts, and kept checking my watch every five minutes to see exactly how long Clark was going to let me do all those things while he slept. Tick, tick, tick… By 8:30, I was boiling. (I know, you wish you could be married to a gem like me.) I tried to play it cool when I finally woke him up at 9am.

I failed. By 9:15, we were throwing laundry at each other across our one-bedroom apartment and hot tears of frustration and unmet expectations were flowing down my face. To be clear, Clark also had expectations I wasn’t meeting – crazy ones like sleeping until 9 on our first Saturday together in our newly married home and life.

We pulled it together and ended up having a fun first day of “real life” together. And in the 13 years since, we’ve made steps forward, also plenty backward, and by the grace of God (and I don’t say that flippantly), we are still married and in love, and have the privilege of continuing the growth journey together.

For me, I have to remember that I didn’t marry Clark so he could meet my expectations. I married him because I love him and made a choice to share our lives. And so, he gets to keep his box of hopes, dreams, and desires, and I get to keep my box of hopes, dreams, and desires. And ideally, we can champion each other’s hopes, dreams, and desires for many years to come!

Don’t miss the next message in the series this Sunday at Ashley Ridge Church – in person or online!

Jesus sighs

Twice. Jesus sighed twice. At least, that’s what Mark said (7:34, 8:12). Maybe the other disciples were just embarrassed to write about the times Jesus had to shake his head at them and sigh. Maybe there wasn’t a good Greek expression for “palm to the forehead.”

Anyway, the point is that Mark tells us about two different times Jesus sighed, and I’m glad Mark took the time to write that down. I need to know that Jesus sighed. I need to know that sometimes the Savior of the World looked at the world He was dealing with and sighed.

To me, a sigh comes from that deep place where the words can’t go or come. And for some of us, that’s an awfully deep place. I have words – lots and lots of words – for almost all of the things in all of the times. But sometimes, there are no words, only sighs. Or, at least, no words that can be found until a sigh pushes us back up to the place where words live. Sighs fill the space where our frustration or our anxiety or our anguish needs a voice that can’t be understood, only felt.

I like that Jesus sighed. It means he gets my sighs.

It’s also important that Jesus only sighed twice (that we know about). He had plenty of opportunities where he could have sighed more. The disciples and the Pharisees and the siblings and the parents (remember Mary pestering him at that wedding) – they tried Jesus’s patience. They pushed his buttons – he was fully human, so we know he had buttons. He could have spent a lot of time feeling frustrated and sighing, but he didn’t. He kept pursuing, kept explaining, kept being patient.

Sighs can be abused, much like eye-rolling. Jesus lack of sighing means he really cared about people; stubborn, frustrating people like me. He didn’t just show up with an agenda of things for us to do and understand. That’s where my sighing often comes in – when I just need my kids to cooperate and for things to go smoothly for a change. And by smoothly, of course, I mean for things to go my way.

Jesus showed up to love us and care about us. He didn’t just need us to understand. Jesus wanted us to understand. He showed us again. He told us again. He looked for different ways to explain. He didn’t just sigh.

It’s both – the sighing and the not sighing. It’s the knowing we have space to sigh and be understood and feel what we feel, and also knowing that we need to check our motives from time to time. When sighing becomes our default, it’s time to be still, spend time bringing our wordless sighs to God so He can bring us back to the place of caring for and loving the people around us.

That’s all I’ve got for now.

Sigh.

Something about chapters and rhythms…

I judge a book by my inability to stop between chapters. If I can stop between chapters, it’s probably not amazing. If I have to force myself to stop in the middle of chapters, I know I’ve found a treasure.

My life so far has been a lot like that, one chapter moves quickly and eagerly into the next. In my 20s, I went from meeting a really cute guy to dating him to getting engaged to him to marrying him to having babies and now hungry-all-the-time, smelly-soccer-playing kids. Professionally (and simultaneously with the previous list), I have gone from college to graduate school to full-time ministry to church planting to being Lead Pastor of a quickly growing church.

And believe me when I tell you, I am grateful for all of it. This life – it is a treasure.

Only the difference between my life and a book is that no one and nothing has forced me to stop or take a break between chapters or in the middle of chapters. And before someone or something does, I’m calling a time out.

Of course, in life, there really is no such thing as a time out, but I’m doing something as close to that as I can. For the month of April (post-Easter), I am stepping away from the day-to-day operation of our church. I’m not checking my e-mail – for a month. (Fear not, I have a virtual assistant who is totally on top of it.) I’m not going to my office or attending staff meetings or leadership team meetings. The beauty is that I can do those things because I have an incredible team. I am surrounded by brilliant people who know what to do and how to do it, and everything will continue to move forward while I am away.

Of course, I won’t really be away. The first week I am resting and vacationing with my family. After that, I will be spending most of my time working on new growth track content for our church and some writing projects that hopefully will make me a stronger communicator going forward. Additionally, I will be in Atlanta with a team of staff and volunteers from our church at a Leadership Conference. And without blinking, I will be back – only, if I do it right, it will be both a break in the middle, and the start of a new chapter.

My goal is to come back having gained solid footing in my writing and teaching, sharper focus, and a greater sense of clarity as we continue taking significant steps forward as a church. I am changing my rhythm and embracing my role as the primary communicator for our church which means giving other things away. It’s going to be sooooo good!!

Be on the lookout for a couple of new blog posts (already written 🙂 that will pop-up in the month of April to go along with the message series at Ashley Ridge. And if you see me around town, please, please say hello.

Thank you for your prayers and I’ll see you again in May!