Rediscovering a Sense of Purpose

 What do you do when your sense of purpose is taken away?

How do you rediscover a sense of purpose when a large part of what made that up is suddenly & unexpectedly removed?

These are questions I've wrestled with a lot in the last 13 months.

As most who have read things I've written in that timeframe will know, 13 months is how long it's been since I lost the job I'd had for 17 years, largely due to things I had no control over & no opportunity to speak into.

Beyond the fact that I was thrust into the unknown of navigating unemployment & finding a new job, in the moment I walked out the door of that office where I'd spent many hours & significant amounts of energy & passion, I was walking away from a large part of what I had seen as my life purpose for the 17 years I'd been there.

I wasn't often on the frontline of the work done there, but keeping bills paid, payroll accurate, & reports submitted to keep funding coming was important to the frontline work continuing. I walked into the office everyday with a sense that I was a part of something that changed lives everyday - even though most outside those I called coworkers at the time would never know who I was. As I walked out that door for the last time, I walked away from all that.

So, I was left with tough questions to wrestle with. I continued to wrestle while I was unemployed & as I returned to work in a new workplace. Even as I found & began a new job, that sense of purpose still felt elusive. Afterall, while we all have plumbing, heating, & air conditioning needs, the life changing aspect of what I used to do still seemed to be missing.

But, as I've discovered in the last 13 months, a sense of purpose doesn't have to come from the work I do everyday. In fact, I've realized it doesn't for a lot of people. No matter what fills your day for work, there can be a sense of purpose in how you do things - in how you interact with people. Wherever we are & whoever is in front of my in that moment is part of my purpose.

Giving the person right in front of me my full attention is more important than anything I can do for work. I don't think I'll ever forget the moments that drove this home for me.

The first came a few weeks into my time of being unemployed. I was playing a game with my niece & she said something about how she liked it much better since I stopped checking my phone all the time when I was with her. I hadn't realized how much checking work messages to just attempt to keep on top of things had creeped into my time with her.

The second was when I told my niece I had a new job. I could tell she wanted to be excited for me, but something was bugging her. When I finally got her to tell me what was up, she told me she was worried I'd go back to checking my phone all the time. I had to reassure that it would be different this time.

That's when I realized that my work doesn't have to provide the purpose. Each person & each interaction is my purpose in that moment. The best thing I can do is give my full attention in the moment. That's how I can love others the way God wants us to. That's how I have a sense of purpose no matter what I do.

I'm challenged to make sure my phone is put away when I'm with people - especially with my niece. Rather than going through life distracted, I'm choosing to give my full attention to those who are in front of me each day.

What is one thing you can do to embrace your purpose & give your attention fully to what is in front of you each day?

The Losses we Don't Talk About

 If you've ever walked through the loss of an important person in your life, then you know that we don't handle grief well as a society. It makes us uncomfortable. We often try to rush people through stages of grief, as if they are a linear process we can just move through to get past the grief.

We expect people to grieve the loss of someone. And for the firsts without that person to bring sadness or anger. We may not be completely comfortable with it, but we expect it.

But, in the last six months, I've noticed that we don't really talk much about the other losses we face. And we don't expect them to be long journeys with grief. Nor do we realize that sometimes all we see is the big loss & we don't realize the many smaller losses that are rolled up in it.

I think the best way for me to explain what I mean is going to be to share my story of the last six months.

Six months ago, I unexpectedly lost what I thought was my dream job at the time. In the days & weeks that followed people generally expected me to not be okay. But, as the months went on & I started a new job, I noticed that many people seemed to assume I would be okay now. And were generally surprised when I told them otherwise.

I have more days when I'm okay than days where I'm not now. I feel like I can genuinely enjoy things, smile, & laugh again. But, I also still have many days - sometimes one, sometimes multiple days in a row - where I'm just not okay. That's the reality of grief.

I've also discovered it's not just the loss of my job I'm grieving. It's a long list of things tied to it that I'm grieving.

I lost may of the people I had spent my days with for the better part of 17 years.

I lost the purpose that came with the work that I did.

I lost the familiarity of what I did everyday.

I lost the sense of how my work really changed the lives of people. 

I lost the security of knowing what I did.

I lost the confidence that I could do my job.

I lost the vision of what my future would look like that I had.

I lost my trust in those I work for & with.

I lost many more things than I can name right now.

And most losses, are actually a whole lot of "smaller" things rolled up into the big loss that's obvious.

But, these aren't the losses we like to acknowledge or talk about. Because they're the harder ones to walk through.

If the only loss I was dealing with was the loss of my job, then finding a new job would been all I needed to move on. It's all those little things that mean I'm still grieving.

In his book "Grieve, Breathe, Receive" Steve Carter writes:

"You don't journey through grief, you journey with grief."

Rather than looking for people to be done with grief, we need to learn how to be okay with the uncomfortableness of grief.

How do we do that?

The most helpful thing we can do, is to let people be not okay for as long as they need. And that means we need to be willing to sit with people - even when they're maybe not the most fun to be with.

And we need to remember that grief isn't linear. The commonly referred to stages of grief are helpful in describing the various ways people will feel as they journey with grief, but we can't expect people to move through them in a linear fashion or to just have those feelings come up once.

The Important Places & Stories in Our Lives

 Do you have a place that's filled with memories of good times from growing up? A place that maybe still feels like home when you go there?

I recently went back to one of those places for me. A place that has changed a lot in so many ways, yet, still feels like the same place every time I drive onto the property.

The camp I grew up going to & worked at for a few months recently celebrated 50 years of camp. They invited people - past & present - to come spend the day at the camp to celebrate.

From the moment I turned down the dirt road to the camp I was filled with memories.

Driving past the house by the gate where the camp director lived when I spent my summers in this place. The memories of conversations on the porch swing with his wife as I navigated summers as staff & the rest of life in between those summers. The wisdom & encouragement shared while sitting there.

The archery range was next. The first place I learned to teach something. Many hours spent there with kids of all ages teaching a skill we may never have learned anywhere else. (And the place where I got my first & only wasp sting, while I was there with a half dozen 8-10 year olds I was responsible for, so I had to stay until I could get someone else there.)

The Point

The lodge - where so much has changed over the years. But, it's still the place of many meals & chapel services. Good food, conversations over food, worshipping God.

Walking to the point - the place where we would have campfire every night of camp. Singing silly camp songs & worship songs. Hearing messages from the speaker for the week. Time to share the story of what God has done in the week of camp. It feels like holy ground when I approach it. There's something truly special about this place.

Walking along the path by the lake, the beach, climbing the hill back to the lodge. All so familiar & filled with memories. Doing things I never would have thought I would have been able to. Growing & learning in so many ways.

Even more memories in the people I saw & reconnected with. Whether we're still in touch or not, there's a connection when we gather again. And realizing that I made a few long term friends in my years here.

I was reminded of the importance of places when I was back at camp. But, even more of the importance of remembering & sharing the stories of what God has done.

The Beach

The day was filled with stories of how God worked to provide for the camp for 50 years. From the little things that made all the difference, to the bigger, more noticeable things.

I was also reminded of the ways God worked in my life when I was there. Many of the important spiritual decisions in the first 25 years of my life were made somewhere on that camp property. It's each to forget that in the midst of every day life, but it's important we don't. 

We need to remember & share the stories. That's how we stay faithful in the hard times & hold on when we can't see ahead.

Being "The Single Person" at a Wedding

Thinking about it a little more, a better title for this post may be Being "The Older Single Person" at a wedding. But, that just seems a bit awkward . . .

In the last year, I've been to a handful of weddings again. After many years of not having any, it seems that weddings have been more frequent again. The difference being, I'm not going as part of the group of single friends of the bride and/or groom (with one exception). I'm going, often, as the only single person over the age of 30 at the wedding. And, I'm discovering that makes a difference.

People expect there to be young adults at a wedding that are single. And, some of the things that have traditionally been a part of weddings for those who are single are still fun at that point.

But, as an older single adult, things are different. And, I'm grateful that some of those things haven't been part of recent weddings. Being called out as single at a wedding isn't fun at this point, so seeing those traditions left behind is a relief. 

I'm happy to see no bouquet tosses to the single women in attendance, or garter tosses to the single men. I'm just going to say it: those suck at my age, because it never fails that some well-meaning person at the wedding will make a big deal about the older single adult at the wedding getting up there, whether they want to or not.

Because a wedding is about two people coming together, they are often filled with unspoken and unacknowledged assumptions that make sense for those coming with a partner.

I've written about this before in other settings, but even in how seating is set up in even numbers is a challenge. When things are rigidly set up in even numbers, there isn't a space for the older single adult who comes to the wedding. They are seated with the young adults, or, maybe even worse, they're treated as the strange family member or friend, and left basically alone.

Thankfully in the weddings this last year, I've been seated with other friends in the room - even if it made the tables an odd number of people. It makes it easier to feel like you belong, at least a little bit, in a space focused on couples.

The other thing that I've noticed is challenging to navigate is a dance at a wedding. Depending on how this is done, it can be incredibly isolating for the older single adults in attendance - especially if they like to dance. 

It's one thing to dance with your friends - whether single or married - when you're a young adult. But, something changes when you're older and still single. There's not the same options of those to dance with in the group. Many couples will dance only with each other.

A thing I'm noticing is having some sort of a dance lesson as part of the dance. Can I just be honest and say that, unless this is done very carefully, it's a part of the wedding celebration that calls out those who are single and isolates them completely. If the dance is a partner dance, the older single adult is sitting on the sidelines - almost always by themselves - feeling like they don't actually belong in the space.

At one of these recent weddings, I experienced the dance and dance lesson happening in a very welcoming way for everyone there. It was a wedding for a friend who was single longer and we talked on many occasions on how to navigate life, church, family, and any other aspect of life as a single adult often. Somehow, this friend structured the dance lesson and subsequent dance in such a way that everyone was able to participate and enjoy the dancing. Maybe it helped that there were many more older single adults at this wedding than some others . . .

But, I wonder if being intentional about not inviting people to grab their partner to start the dance lesson can help. Maybe mixing in a large number of line dances, group dance songs . . . places to include everyone, even if they came to the wedding alone, in the dancing.

There are some areas of life that are more challenging to navigate as a single adult. And weddings can definitely be one of them.

I don't have solutions to all the challenges or prescriptions for how things should be done, but maybe we can have a conversation. Maybe as we have the conversation, we can learn and grow together.

Community is Part of Healing

 ". . . the healing of trauma cannot happen without the presence of connection." (Dr. Hillary McBride, Holy/Hurt Podcast, Episode 6: Seeing & Believing)

As much as people are the source of spiritual trauma, we need people in the healing of it. This isn't easy. When people have caused our pain, we want to hide and put wall up to protect ourselves.

"The experience of being witnessed, as it turns out, is foundational to our ability to heal. We are relational. Our pain needs to be held tenderly as we speak truthfully about it. And whether we tell the story or not, or the people around us know what to do with this information or not, we all deserve spaces where we are felt, known, and trust that we are believed, even if we choose not to share." (Dr. Hillary McBride, Holy/Hurt Podcast, Episode 6: Seeing & Believing)

We don't share the story with just anyone or with everyone. We won't share the story with most people. But the community, whether inside or outside of the church, that we are surrounded with is central to healing spiritual trauma.

The pain needs to be witnessed when it is share, in whatever form that is. And, the love and support of others is needed as new ways of thinking and living are learned.

Like so much in our lives, we weren't made to and we can't get through it all on our own. We need safe people walking with us though all of it.

The Day I Usually Want to Remove from the Calendar

 Today is day I have often wished to remove from the calendar.

Most days, being single isn't a big deal to me, even if it's not what I had hope for at this point in my life. But, today, it feels like it declares that something is very wrong with me.

February 14.

Valentine's Day.

It's a day when it feels like being single is something you need to hide. A day where you don't feel welcome in most places because everything is set up for and focused on couples. If you, as a single person, show up somewhere you're often seen as messing up the natural order of things even more than usual.

As it approached this year, I was dreading it even more than usual, but I wasn't really sure why.

When the opportunity to do something with others who were also single came up, I jumped on board quickly.

But, that still didn't remove the question of why I had been dreading this day even more than usual this year.

Then, a few nights ago, I was at a gathering for singles and I heard someone else put words to why. 

It can be a lonely night when you're longing for connection with people. Feeling like most of society expects you to stay home along that evening because you don't have a significant other emphasizes and amplifies any loneliness you may already be feeling. Maybe even more as we seek to rebuild the connection opportunities that were lost through a couple years of COVID.

So, maybe I dread today a little bit less now because I know I will have some fun with other singles. That I will have that connection I crave and the God created us for.

But, think this leads to a bigger question that I've been talking about in the last couple of blog posts I wrote as well.

If God created us for community and connection with each other, how do we create that in our churches - for every adult, whether married or single?

The Power of Showing Up & Being Present

 This past Sunday at church, we took some time to remember those in our church family who we had lost over the last few years of COVID. Something as simple as a picture, a name, a birthdate, and the date someone took their last breath on earth, had an impact on me in that moment. As I watched the pictures of my great uncle and then my Grandma appear on the screen, along with so many others I've known as part of my church family for years, I was reminded of another lesson my Grandma taught me over the years. 

As I've thought about it since, I've come to realize it might be the mort important thing, after following God, that my Grandma taught me. It's something that has come up over and over again in memories of her. And from so many different people.

That lesson: the power of showing up and being present.

When I think about it, growing up, one of the things I could always count on was that if something was happening - good or bad - my Grandma would be one who showed up. She was just there all the time. Whether it was sitting in the audience at more band concerts, school awards ceremonies, & school sports games than she probably ever thought she'd sit through. Or being the one to pick us up when we weren't feeling well at school and Mom was busy. Or the hours spent with us at her house through all seasons. Or when something went wrong or was hard and you just needed a hug (. . . & a cookie).

There was something you could count on . . . Grandma was there. She showed - usually with Grandpa at her side.

But, more than her showing up, she was present in those moments. Even when you knew she had other things she could be doing, she was present in her conversations with you. She was present in the moment and whatever was happening.

And, in doing so, she made sure you knew she thought you were important and valuable. That you were worth her time and energy.

One particular night stands out for me when I think about how she did this. It was a Friday night not too long after I moved home after finishing my degree. I was not looking forward to another evening alone. My Grandma happened to phone my Mom that afternoon & I answered. As usual, she talked to me first, & when I said I had no plans, her first thought was to invite me to come over for supper that night. A little thing in so many ways. But, it reminded me that she cared.

It challenges me in my own interactions with people. 

How do I do at showing up for the people I love? How do I do at being present with the people I'm with?

These days, it's easy to be distracted, even when we're in the same room as people. We carry around distracting devices that keep us from being present - even if we leave the phone away, when the phone calls, texts, & emails come through to you watch, the distraction is still there. I know I'm good at being distracted.

But, it's not how I want to be. I want to be someone who shows up & is present with the people in front of me.

How about you? How are you doing at showing up? How are you doing at being present?

Memories of my Grandma

 Today - almost 11 months after she passed away - we had the Celebration of Life for my Grandma. It was so good to be together after so long of not being able to do. And I didn't realize how necessary this step was in the journey of saying good-bye.

I was asked to share, alongside a couple of my cousins, memories of Grandma. As I wrote, I figured it would be easier to share the memories now since so much time had passed, but as I started, I realized that the memories still touched me more than I thought they would. 

Here is what I shared, or at least intended to share today - I'm not sure that I actually was able to read everything that was written when I got to that moment.

"There's not a day goes by that I don't see you;

You live on in all the better parts of me."

Those are a couple of lines from the song "Scars in Heaven" by Casting Crowns. I listened to that song a lot in the months after Grandma passed away. And as I sat down to write the memories about Grandma I wanted to share, those words came to mind again. Over the last 11 months, I've had many times when the words of wisdom, encouragement, and love Grandma shared with me over the years have continued to have an influence on my life.

As I talked to my sisters about our memories of Grandma, one of the first things that came up for us was our memories of sick days at Grandma's. If we woke up sick one morning, or got sick at school, we always hoped Mom was busy, because it means we got to go to Grandma's for the day. Even when we were sick, Grandma's house was always more fund than being at home. A sick day at Grandma's usually meant sitting in their ricking chars, eating cookies, and watching TV together.

A lot of our memories of Grandma are around their house on Green Bay. Summers at the beach, holiday family gatherings, and any other reason we found to get together.

Helping make "Grandma buns" - as we called them. Nothing tasted better that Grandma buns with homemade strawberry freezer jam.

Making roll kuchen and eating it watermelon outside. The important question was always the ratio of watermelon slices to roll kuchen we were allowed. It usually felt like too much watermelon, but Grandma would hold firm on the number.

Another memory is singing together with Grandma. More often than not, Grandma would start us off singing The Doxology for grace when we gathered for a holiday meal or special occasions. And Christmas gatherings always included singing some carols while Grandma played the piano.

For me, another memory of Grandma is the many hours spent on the golf course with Grandma, and Grandpa too. Depending on who was picking you up, changed what time you actually had to be ready to go. If Grandma and Grandpa were both coming, they'd be on time for what they told you; if it was just Grandpa, you needed to be ready early; if it was just Grandma, you had an extra 5-10 minutes to get ready. But, my favourite part of that wasn't the golfing; it was the conversations that happened while we golfed. Grandma always shares wisdom and encouragement and pointed me to God in those hours together.

When I went away to Briercrest for school, Grandma made it worthwhile to get a mailbox of my own in town. At least every couple of weeks, sometimes more often, I would find an envelope with Grandma's familiar handwriting on it. It would be filled with stories of what was going on in her life and Grandpa's - a connection to home that I was grateful for. I was really bad at writing back, and even worse at phoning, but the letters from Grandma kept coming as long as I was away.

Grandma always liked to have fun. Even though she always looked put together and proper when we were out, she was always up for having fun. That was something that stayed, even as her mobility was slowly stolen by Parkinson's disease. One of my favourite memories of that includes my niece. Grandma and Grandpa were at my parent's house for a meal. While we were waiting for the food to be ready, Grandma was playing with my niece. They were laughing and enjoying being together, while, much to my Mom's chagrin, they tossed a decorative whicker ball my Mom had in the living room back and forth. Grandma using a paper plate to catch and throw it. 

As I talked to my sisters about our memories of Grandma, the theme that kept coming up in all of them was that she was there. We could count on that. Whether we were sick as kids and Mom was busy, or we had something special happening, or we just needed somewhere to go on a Friday night, Grandma was there and she was always praying for us.

What we All Need

 When I wrote my series on singleness in the church a year and half ago, there was a topic I completely avoided. It came up a few times in my research and writing, but I always had a good reason to skip over it. There was always something else to write about.

The truth is that I just didn't want to go there or open up that topic. But the last nine months have brought it back to the surface and I can't avoid it anymore.

I touched on it a little bit in my post last week, but there's so much more to it than what I wrote there. In the next few posts, I'm going to be talking about physical touch and our need for it. And take a look at what Scripture says about it.

Because this is a topic with potential for so much confusion, I'm going to start with being clear about what I'm not talking about:

1) I'm not talking about one of the five love languages that are popular to talk about. You don't get to tune out or stop reading because it's not your love language.

2) I'm not talking about sexual touch or love. That is a different topic, and one I currently have no plans to write about.

So, what am I talking about? What do I mean when I say physical touch?

I'm talking about those moments of connection with someone that comfort, soothe, make us feel loved and safe. A hug from a friend. A hand of comfort on our shoulder. A friend just being physically close to us while we watch a movie or enjoy being outside.

And, as I think about this topic, I've been hesitant to go here in the past, because of the huge possibilities of misunderstanding. Especially as I move into talking about what it looks like for a single person. 

As Lore Ferguson Wilbert writes in her excellent book Handle With Care: How Jesus Redeems the Power of Touch in Life and Ministry:

"Our society simply doesn't know what to do with the human body or human touch. Our culture is confused, and confusion only results in more confusion."

It's easy to look at culture and see the confusion. But it's not limited to secular culture.

I would argue that the church is just as confused - in some cases, even more confused - than our culture. We've just replaced the lack of rules or boundaries you could say is our culture's problem, with a long list of things we can and cannot do. A list that actually can't be found in Scripture. A list that often causes harm in exactly the ways we're trying to protect ourselves.

So, I will start with the next post looking at Jesus' use of physical touch in Scripture. And move from there into discussion about life and life as a single person in this area.

Letting the Faith of Others Carry you in the Struggle

 A couple days ago, I got a message asking why I hadn't posted anything here in just over a month. I knew it had been a while, but I didn't realize it had been that long.

If I look at the notebook where I start most of my posts, I can see a lot of started and unfinished posts. Things I started to write, but had no idea how to finish or turn into something I would share. Thoughts about things that I can't yet get to a conclusion of any kind.

The last post I wrote and shared here challenged me as I read it. I was writing about getting through when you don't think you can. About what we need to do.

I talked about our need to invite community into our struggle. To have people we can be honest with about where we're at. It was easy to write that, but the truth is, it was harder to live that out. I wrote those words for others, not even realizing how much I would struggle to do exactly that in the last few weeks.

It wasn't until I completely reached the end of myself that I realized just how important it is to invite people into our struggle. It's not just a good thing to talk about. It's something we need to actually do. It wasn't until I actually reached out to friends and let them into my struggle that things began to change. My faith may be weak right now, but that's what community is for. We carry each other when someone is struggling. We carry them to Jesus.

When the whole premise of what you've written about for years is living as Christ's disciple and what that looks like practically, when things get hard, it's hard to write about it. But maybe honesty about things is the best place to start writing again.

I don't know what my writing will look like in the coming weeks. I don't know if there will be more that make its way to here. Or if it will continue to be unfinished ideas that don't make it here.

But can I encourage you with this: No matter where you're at spiritually, keep holding on. Keep sharing honestly with people in your life. When you're faith is struggling, ask the people around you to pray for you. Let their faith carry you when yours is weak.

Being Needy

Needy.

None of is want to be seen as needy.

We look down on others when they come across as needy.

And, while I agree that being needy can become manipulative or dangerous, I think we miss out on something important when we do everything we can to avoid even the appearance of being needy.

What we miss, is intimacy - with others and with God.

Because we've equated intimacy with a sexual relationship, we miss out on what it actually is and why it's actually vital to our lives.

I want to touch briefly on the topic of intimacy with other and how being needy sometimes is part of that, briefly, before I move onto intimacy with God.

Think about your close friendships right now. If they have a depth, an intimacy to them, then that probably developed from both of you being willing to be needy with each other at one point or another. You chose to let the other into a hard time or a struggle. You shared what others don't usually see. And you allowed the other to respond with care, with love, with help, with support.

In intimate friendship with others, you risk being exposed so you can stop hiding. You risk being hurt, so you can ask for help when it's too much on your own. It's not easy, but it's necessary.

But, there's an area where I think we struggle with being needy even more and as a result we miss out on intimacy there too. It's in our relationship with God.

Oh, we know all the right things to say. We talk about it. But, we don't practice it very well.

I read something in a Bible study I was working through recently that challenged me on this idea. Jennie Allen writes:

"If the goal of our lives is intimacy with Jesus, then the pathway to that intimacy is vulnerably needing Him - bringing Him to things we most want to hide from Him." (Proven, pg. 134)

If we're going to pursue intimacy with God, then we have to be willing to be needy with Him. Instead of trying to prove that we have it all together and are good enough for Him, Jesus invites us to fully admit our need to Him. Being honest about everything we would rather hide, everything we're afraid of having exposed. It's when we do this, that we are able to begin to live in the intimacy with Jesus we all say we desire.

Are you willing to be vulnerably needy with Jesus?

Are you willing to have it all exposed for the intimacy that comes?

Things We Need to Stop Saying to Single People

"Maybe you just need to put yourself out there more."
"God will bring the right person when you stop looking for someone."
"Why aren't you married yet?"
"You're too [insert what ever descriptive word you want here] to still be single."
"When are you gong to get married?"
"Why are you still single?"
"Don't you want to get married?"
"You need to be careful you don't get too [successful/educated/settled] or you'll never get married."

That's just a short list of the things I've heard when people find out I'm single - or still single, as the case may be. I could keep going with the list, but I think you get the idea. I'm sure those of you reading this who are single could add your own to the list as well.

Things like what I've put on the list above are things we need to stop saying to people.

We just need to stop!

Why?

Because they imply something is wrong with the person you're saying them to.
Because they imply that the person is doing something wrong.
Because they say you know God's plan for them better than God does or they do.
Because they say that you have it all figured out and you think they don't.
Because they make someone feel small or looked down on or pitied.
Because they hurt.

I hope you're still with for the rest of this.

I honestly believe most people say these things with the best of intentions. They're not thinking about anything on the list I gave of why we need to stop saying them. I believe that the majority of the time when people say these things, their desire is to encourage the person and show them love. But, the reality is they don't encourage the person.

So what should we do or say instead?

Instead of focusing on whether someone is married or not, talk about family - whatever that looks like for each person. Most singles I know still have family that's important to them, whether it's biological or friends who have become family.

Instead of feeling sorry for or pitying someone who is single, take time to understand what life looks like for them.

Engage in real conversation with them.

The thing about what we need to stop saying is that they're all sound bytes that don't require investment on our part. We can say them and move on, feeling good about ourselves and not knowing how the other person took those words.

We also like to offer the pat answers because we're uncomfortable with other people's pain. If we invest the time, we may have to engage with their pain. As Joy Beth Smith says in her book "Party of One":

"The problem comes when the church is removed from the pain of singleness. When the leaders don't get it. Instead of sitting in it with us, they offer trite phrases that only serve to aggravate the inflammation. They might use these pat answers so they don't have to really analyze and look at pain, but there has to be a better way to meet the needs of single people." (pg. 76)

Any suggestions I have for how we can changes what we say involves time and energy - we have to invest. But, that's what we should be doing anyways.

What about you? Do you have any ideas of what we can say instead of these things we need to stop saying?

A Baby Who Changed the World

As Christmas approaches, I keep being drawn back to a post I wrote in 2014. As I've thought about what I might write to share here as I look towards Christmas, I've realized that those words from then are where my heart is at again this year. Rather than write something new, I'm choosing to share those words from four years ago again.

My prayer is they make you think, reflect, wonder at Christmas this year...

_______________________________

As I have been reflecting on the Christmas story this year, I've been struck by how life changing the birth of this one baby was for all people - the night it happened and for all eternity.

One baby changed the world forever. 

Nothing has been the same since that night.

We often talk about how a baby changes everything for the family that baby is born into.

 None brought so much change as Jesus when He was born.

God come to earth.

Immanuel.

God with us.

The One whose life, death, and resurrection would make a way for mankind to once again have direct access to God.

The ultimate expression of sacrificial love. Of humble service.

I wonder if Mary and Joseph, if the shepherds, if the Magi, really understood the significance of that night. They knew what the angels had told them about this baby, but did they really get it? 

A couple thousand years later, do we really get it? Will we ever really get it?

The birth of a baby, named Jesus. 

A baby Who would change everything through His life and death.

The promised Messiah. The One prophesied about.

The One missed by so many when He came because of the way He came.

The One missed by so many while He walked on earth because He came to serve, not to exert His power.

The One missed by so many because He dies a criminal's death to become the greatest sacrifice and defeat sin and death for good.

The One still missed by many today.

But for those who stop to notice . . .

for those who are searching for something more . . .

for those who are willing to be humble and serve . . .

the chance to meat the One Who changes everything.

The One Who offers hope.

The One Who offers forgiveness and a second chance.

The One Who offers unconditional love.

The One Who never fails.

It was one night . . . 

in a stable . . .

in a small town . . .

with two poor parents . . .

surrounded by animals . . .

where the world changed forever.

God put His plan in motion to redeem a fallen world,

to restore a broken relationship with His people.

A plan still in motion today.

A plan that still offers hope today.

A birth.

A baby.

A life lived.

A death.

And the greatest of all - a victory over death, a resurrection.

All because of God's vast, unmeasurable, unchanging, unfailing love for each of us.

That makes it something worth celebrating!

Looking Close

Last week, I shared a post about looking for God in the midst of the hard times. I kind of wish I could write in this post, that I'm past the place I was when I wrote that post, but that's not true. I'm still in the middle of the time. And I'm being challenged with what I wrote.

Am I seeing the beauty of God in the midst of something that's still unresolved?

It's a lot harder than I wish it was. I wish it was something that begins to come naturally when we decide we're going to. But, it's not. It's still something we have to do every moment as we walk through the hard times.

Last night at a Bible study I'm part of we were talking about John 15 where Jesus says He is the true vine and we are the branches. In John 15:2, Jesus talks about us being pruned so that we can be even more fruitful. In the teaching last night, Lysa TerKeurst (the author of the study we've been doing, Finding I Am), talked about how a grape vine is pruned.

The prune a grape vine, the gardener has to get really close to the branch being pruned. It's not something done from a distance. It's something close and intimate.

As I've thought about it more, I've come to the conclusion that we often miss God in the midst of the hard times, because we're looking too far away for where He is. He's close in those hard times. And if we're looking in the distance, we miss Him, because we look right past where He is.

And so I'm learning in the midst of my own hard time to look closer when I look for God. To stop looking for Him in the distance and realize He's right there with me in the midst of it.

Remembering What God Has Taught You

Sometimes we need to go back and remember the experiences of the past and how God has worked in them. They remind us of the God we serve, and that we've never been left alone.

I was reading some posts from near the beginning of this blog earlier today, and I was reminded of how God has worked in my life. Ten years ago, in September 2008, my comfy, safe world was shaken. It seemed like nothing was predictable anymore. 

But, it was also the beginning of a time of God refining my faith. Without even realizing it, I had begun to place my faith in things going as I had planned and everything making sense in my life. While I don't see the events of September 2008 as being planned by God, I can see how He used them to show me that and to bring me back to putting my faith in Him alone - not my circumstances.

It's important that we remember these sorts of things. When I forget this, it's easy to find myself back where I was ten year ago in a short time. But, when I remember these things that God has taught me, I'm reminded of where I need to keep placing my faith.

In Scripture, we see God directing His people to do exactly this. They were to build altars of remembrance and tell the stories of what God had done for them to the next generations. By communicating these stories and remembering these experiences, they would be encouraging each other to continue on in following God.

What are your experiences with God? How has He worked in your life? What lessons has He taught you?

Why it's Scary to Admit to Anxiety?

I've been thinking a lot about the post I wrote last week and why it was really so terrifying to hit publish. What makes it so hard to let people know that I deal with this on a daily basis? Why was I hesitant to share in that way?

The more I've thought about it, the more I've realized that it really does come down to the way it is seen by some people . . . and, unfortunately, especially the way it's seen by some people in the church. We talk often about the stigma associated with mental illness in our society, and our need to remove it. We've made great strides in this - both inside and outside of the church.

But, there have definitely been times when it has been easier to let the stranger in the grocery store or the coffee shop know what was going on when I'm struggling with anxiety when I'm out, then it has been to let someone at church know. This reality saddens me. The place where it should be easiest to admit my struggle is often actually the most difficult.

So, why is this the case? What is going on here?

I'm going to say that most of the challenge comes from the multiple meanings of the word anxiety. It's a word that is used to mean anything from the worries of everyday life to crippling fear and worry that interferes with the ability to live a "normal life." Most of the people I've talked to about this in the church understand the first definition, but they miss the other possible definition.

When someone is talking about the worries of everyday life, then it is perfectly reasonable to talk to them about praying and giving them over to God - about how Scripture tells us not to worry about tomorrow - and leave it at that. Scripture's prescription for this kind of anxiety is abundantly clear.

But, when it's a life-altering level of anxiety? When it's anxiety that interferes with the ability to live and do the things everyone else does?

Absolutely, the truth of Scripture still applies. But, when we stop there, we leave those who live with this type of anxiety feeling less than, or like their problem isn't seen as being real. It can make you feel like less of a Christian because the "solution" that people are giving doesn't work for you.

I don't want to discount the truth of Scripture, or the role that doing what Philippians 4:6-7 says plays in my ability to manage my anxiety. The truth of Scripture is powerful to change thinking and I don't want to minimize it.

But, when I'm struggling with my anxiety in the moment, I don't need Scripture basically just thrown at me as the solution to my problem. It's not actually going to help. 

I also don't want to make it sound like the church always gets this wrong. Many in the church handle this well. They truly care and support and try to understand. I get that it's hard to understand what it's like and I might not always be able to explain it well. But, I'm appreciative of those who try.

So, how do we fix this?

1) Don't assume you know what someone means when they say they're struggling with anxiety. Ask questions to get a better understanding of what they mean.

2) Don't rush to offer you solution to their problem. Even when you feel like you have a suggestion that might help, offering it right away will actually be counter-productive.

3) Listen to what they're saying and care about what's going on. A listening ear makes a big difference. Often just being there makes all the difference.

Meeting Jesus in the Middle of Your Circumstances

There's something about John's account of the resurrection of Jesus that really draws my attention. John 20:11-18 records a conversation between Mary Magdalene and Jesus that had made me think.

Mary Magdalene went to the tomb early in the morning and discovered Jesus was no longer there. She goes back to tell the disciples. Peter and John run to the tomb to investigate for themselves.

Then we pick up the conversation Mary had with Jesus in John 20:11-18.

As I read the conversation, I'm struck by the relationship I see between Jesus and Mary. Mary wasn't just a part of the crowd that wanted to see what Jesus would do next. She followed Him because she believed in Him. One where all it took was for Jesus to say her name to recognize Him.

She was "outside the tomb crying," (John 20:11) when Jesus came to her. She didn't recognize Jesus at first. But, the moment she heard Him speak her name it all became clear. She knew exactly who she was talking to.

I think this is often our story. Something has happened that has caused us grief, pain, sorrow. We're "outside the tomb crying." We're focused on what we've lost, or think we've lost. When Jesus makes Himself known in our situation, we don't recognize Him in it. W don't realize He's right there waiting to comfort and strengthen us.

When we finally list our eyes, we hear Jesus say our name and that's when everything changes. The circumstances we're in may not change, but when we realize we're not facing them alone, that does change things. When we realize Jesus is walking every step with us that changes everything.

What circumstances are you in that seem overwhelming?
Are you focused on them? Or are you seeing and hearing Jesus there with you?

The Light that Draws People

"We draw people to Christ not by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it."                  -Madeleine L'Engle



I've been thinking a lot lately about how we share the gospel in the culture we live in. A culture with massive and ever growing divisions among various groups of people. The dividing lines we draw seem to be becoming more and more pronounced.

So much of what we hear today is about discrediting "the other side." About telling people they're wrong and we're right. Most people seem to just want to prove themselves right, at everyone else's expense.

And that has an influence on how we share the gospel with people. If we get caught up in the anger and the drawing of lines and trying to prove we're right with everyone else, then our gospel message is compromised. It will affect our ability to be heard - really heard, rather than just being more noise.

That's where I think the quote I opened this post with is so important. Our light shining in the darkness of this world is the way forward. It doesn't mean we don't talk about our faith. In many ways, I believe it means we clearly speak the gospel message, but we also have to do so in a way that makes people want what we have. Our speaking and our living have to come from a place of love, because that's what will attract people to the source of the light we have.



"We draw people to Christ not by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it."                  -Madeleine L'Engle

Who Do You Avoid Helping?

How often do you go out of your way to avoid helping someone?

Who are the people you will go to great lengths to avoid helping?

Luke 10:25-37 records Jesus' parable of The Good Samaritan. It's another one of Jesus' well-known parables. A reminder of the kind of person we should be. Often preached on with a call to be like the good Samaritan.

As I was reading it recently, I was challenged by a hard question. It's easy to move right to the actions of the good Samaritan when we read this. Those are easier words to read. They encourage us in what we should do.

But, I when I slowed down and read about the actions of the priest and the Levite in the story, I was challenged by something else. The priest and the Levite were both good Jewish men. They were religious leaders in Israel. Nowhere in His telling of this parable does Jesus say there was anything out of place religiously in these men.

The priest and the Levite went out of their way to avoid helping their fellow Jew who had been beaten and robbed. Verses 31 & 32 of Luke 10 tells us that they both passed by the man on the other side of the road from him. They made a choice to avoid the man and avoid helping him.

It made me wonder about my own life. How often do I go out of my way to avoid helping people? Who are the people I go out of my way to avoid helping?

In other words, how often is my response to someone in need of help to do what the priest and the Levite did? How often do I cross to the "other side of the road" to distance myself from someone in need and avoid helping them?

These aren't easy questions to wrestle with. They've challenged me to look at some things in my life it would be easier to pretend aren't there. But, it's also been very necessary, if I'm going to live the life Jesus has called His followers to live.

So maybe, along with being encouraged to respond the way the good Samaritan did, we also need to reflect on some other questions:

How often do I go out of my way to avoid helping someone?

Who are the people I go to great lengths to avoid helping?

What changes do I need to make here?

I think that last question is vitally important. If we stop at the first two it just get depressing. The last question is about the changes we can make, and how we can move forward.

Do You See ___________?

In the last little while, I've been struck by how little we often see the people around us. I'm not talking about realizing there are people around. I'm talking about something more, something deeper.

It's easy to go through life and make quick judgements of people based on what we notice at a glance.

They're . . . . . busy

             . . . . . rude

             . . . . . homeless

             . . . . . addicted to drugs

             . . . . . annoying

             . . . . . pushy

             . . . . . not worth my time.

I make those judgements easily, as I'm sure most of us do. But, they're never the full picture. We're making them hastily and they're incomplete.

Do you see ___________?

How would those judgements change if we took a bit more time? What if we started looking beyond the fast, easy label we could put on someone? What if we really started to see people?

Jesus asks this question to a Pharisee in Luke 7. The end of Luke 7 recounts Jesus at a Pharisee's house for dinner. A woman with a sinful reputation comes and pours perfume on Jesus' feet. Simon, the Pharisee, judges this situation. Jesus see  Simon's hear and challenges him on what's going on it. Simon took one glance at this woman and judged her as sinful and someone he would not want to touch him.

Jesus asks Simon, the Pharisee, an interesting and challenging question in Luke 7:44. Jesus turns toward the woman and asks Simon, "Do you see this woman?" Jesus isn't asking Simon if he noticed the woman was there. He's asking a deeper question. He's challenging Simon on what he notices when he looks at others.

And in the same moment, Jesus is telling the woman that He sees her. That He sees beyond her reputation. That He wants to free her for more. Jesus isn't excusing her sinful reputation, or saying it doesn't exist, but He's saying there is more to this woman that just her reputation.

Jesus does the same thing in Luke 8:42-48. A woman who had been bleeding for twelve years touches Jesus' garment and is healed. When Jesus asks, "Who touched me?" it's not because He's upset with her or trying to figure out who did it. Jesus is asking because He wants to let the woman know He sees her. For a woman who had been a societal outcast for twelve years and had people ignore her and stay away, this would have been life changing, just as the physical healing was. Jesus was truly seeing her and calling others to as well.

Both of these accounts challenge me on how I do at seeing people. AM I making judgements based on a quick glance and some assumptions? Or am I taking time to really see people?

Maybe those few seconds of pause where we look at someone again and change our response will change everything.

Do you see ______________?