2020

During the prayer circle that kicked off yesterday's triathlon, Psalm 18:37 was quoted: "I pursued my enemies and overtook them; I did not turn back till they were destroyed." In the days prior I had committed to memory Ephesians 6 , which reminds us that our enemies are not flesh and blood. (It wasn't the other athletes that we were here to destroy!) Another athlete admitted that his biggest enemy was his own mind, which is full of fear and doubt, not only while he is training, but even as he runs into the water and takes those first strokes of the race.  I love that we began the race with this challenge to pursue and overtake whatever it is that stands between us and the finish line. Because as I watched athlete after athlete finish, I could see that the victory was not just in finishing. Not just in getting first in their age division. Or achieving a personal best.  These athletes were overcoming far more than the finish line. They were over

Lately I've been feeling especially grateful for the forethought of my father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather. I live on the family farm where they all lived before me. And they've left me the most beautiful and delicious legacy. Apple, peach , and pear trees. Blackberry bushes. Maple, oak, walnut, and buckeye trees. And a grapevine. I simply walk by the grapevine and feel loved as I am embraced by the sweet aroma of grapes warmed by the sun. And then I pop one in my mouth and it's like discovering grapes for the first time because they are so much sweeter than anything you get in the store. There is nothing I did to deserve these riches. There is nothing I have done to create them or make them return and grow year after year. (They are a bit like God's grace you could say, which we don't earn or deserve or have any part in creating.) But I have them and they are mine because 30, 50, and 100 years ago someone had the forethou

I spend a lot of time listening. To music. To friends. And family. To my thoughts. And not enough time to God. And my gut instincts. This week I've mostly been listening to my body. Which is saying things like: "Ouch!" "I need a break." "Stop!" My struggle to listen to my body is that we're always taught to push harder. That it isn't our bodies standing in the way, but our minds. That slowing down or quitting or even just taking a break is equivalent to giving up. "You can do it!" "You're almost there!" "Don't stop now!" But words that are meant to encourage aren't necessarily words we should always listen to. The better we know ourselves, and the more often we practice listening, the better able we are to hear the "right" words, the ones we need to heed at any given time. Be they words from our friends or family, our own minds or guts. Listening helps us discern God's voice fr

Thank you so much for embracing Tuesday's blog,  EMBRACE VALUE , in which I shared some of the ugly thoughts that sometimes occupy my head. It's scary to let others inside our heads. Especially when we are really honest about what is going on in there. Your comments, your love, your admissions of "me too", were so appreciated. The feedback that I received that touched me the most was this one: "Your authenticity is a tremendous gift." More than "you are beautiful". More than "you look hot in a bikini". More than "I wish I looked that good". Because the heart of that blog wasn't "I want to be pretty on the outside." The heart of it was "I don't feel pretty on the inside." Because when we don't feel pretty on the inside we try to compensate by making ourselves pretty on the outside, by having ideal bodies, being perfectionists, and looking like we have it all together. So to be told that my

I love this translation of Matthew 11:28-30 from The Message: “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” I especially love that phrase "the unforced rhythms of grace." Rhythm, when we find it, is unforced. It's natural. It's easy. Yesterday I realized I'd finally found my rhythm again. Exercising in the morning, working 8 hours at my computer, cooking 3 meals, reading for enjoyment in the evening, and walking my dog every couple hours throughout the day. None of it was forced. It was an easy rhythm. Which felt soooo good after the craziness of August. Remember August? August was sports camps, two-a-days, practices, scrimmages, and games.  Aug

When I see this photo a million thoughts go through my head. They sound something like this: "I hope everyone looks at the baby, the water, the sand, and not at me. I'm glad this was taken in the midst of triathlon training so I don't look 'as fat' as I would normally. I'm glad my sister-in-law wasn't standing close enough to get my stretch marks or my belly fat in this picture. Hopefully everyone will be distracted by the bikini and won't look at my face which isn't very pretty. I should have put some makeup on. And gel in my hair. Or at least worn a cute sun hat. No, I would have looked dumb in that too." You might be thinking that I must have the lowest self-esteem in the world. But this is how millions of people talk to themselves every day. Including me. And I hate it. I absolutely hate it. I don't ever want anyone to believe those things about themselves. I don't want my little niece in this picture to ever feel she isn&

Of those 17 addresses I've had in the past 15 years , this year has been the first time I've ever really lived alone. And not only lived alone, but enjoyed living alone. In the past, when I've had a place of my own, I've always been quick to fill it with guests. Neighbors, nearby friends, traveling guests, roommates, Bible study groups, clearness committees, dance parties, etc. Or else I've spent so little time at my own place, choosing instead to be out, or at friends homes, or working, that I could hardly call what I was doing "living alone". In other words, I would do anything to fill the lonely spaces. Plus it can be wonderful to be with others and share your space with someone else. I was so glad to have Kim as a roommate the year that the raccoons took to mating up against my bedroom window. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have her to wake up at 5 a.m. with a "You've got to see this!" I was even more

In the past 15 years I have had 17 different mailing addresses covering 6 different states. But no matter what my address has been one thing hasn't changed: I love getting mail. "Real mail", that is. A handwritten note from one of my grandmas. A card with two or three sentences of gratitude or encouragement or wishes from a friend. Postcards from travels. A box of homemade cookies with a Bible verse and prayer attached. Pictures and stories of home from my parents when I've moved away. Letter writing is definitely a lost art. Even Christmas cards have lost the personal touch. I get boxed cards with only a signature at the end. Or a photo of your kids but no words to tell me where your heart is this season. I've decided to change all that. At least in my own little world. I'm committing to writing--pen to paper--a letter every week for the rest of this year. Will you take the challenge too? I already have people in mind I want to write to. That friend

Last Sunday, Mr. K. from church and I were talking about how there isn't much worthwhile on television any more. (Of course that doesn't stop me from watching it.) As I was thinking about why we don't find these shows worthwhile, I decided it was because they aren't encouraging. They don't "build us up" as people or as a community of people. When you think of the "glory days" of television, you think of "Leave it to Beaver" and "Little House on the Prairie", shows that portrayed an ideal family. They were encouraging because they made us feel hopeful about humanity. Content of today's shows can be summarized by their one-word titles: "Mistresses", "Betrayal", "Scandal", "Revenge". Not exactly the pinnacle of hope that television once was. As I said, this doesn't prevent me from watching these shows. But it does make me want to be more intentional in my daily life about enco

For about 3 weeks I was struggling with my latest writing assignment . I just couldn't come up with what my supervisors wanted. Then one day I had the idea to put the words in an excel sheet rather than a word document. Which sounds weird. And felt even weirder. But it helped me come at the project with a different perspective. And this time it was exactly what my supervisors wanted. Ever since, I've been working in "the zone." You know the one I'm talking about. The one where you lose whole hours because you are so consumed by what you are doing. Two o'clock rolls around and you realize you haven't eaten lunch yet. The phone rings (or beeps or sings or vibrates) and you don't even hear it. You feel invincible, like everything you do has power. And it doesn't even have to be perfect. Today I spent 3 hours writing and rewriting the same 3 paragraphs and it was so incredibly fulfilling I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else.  It w

Yesterday as I was enjoying a perfect walk with my dog and the sun was nice and warm on my bare arms I thought, "I'm really glad today is summer." That may seem like a weird thought to have, but everyone started embracing fall as soon as they saw the word "September" (which my nieces just learned has 3 syllables... do 4 year-olds really need to know syllables???). But September isn't fall. At least not the first 21 days. September is heat and humidity. September is lakes that are still warm enough to swim in without a wet suit. September is green fields and trees and lawns that still need to be mowed. September is tomatoes and peaches and apples (NOT pumpkins and costumes and candy corn!). Today, September 18, is SUMMER! I saw a movie on Sunday, The Spectacular Now , which sums up my feelings in a very simple way: "Live in the now. Embrace that shit." There you have it. So long as it is summer, EMBRACE SUMMER . Because that is now. Not

The djs on the radio station I listen to (90.1) were recently talking about a new online dating site for people who are gluten free. (This one promises you'll never feel awkward eating again!) When I Googled it (so I could give you the link, not because I wanted to sign up, so just relax!) I saw that lots of other people were talking about this too. And everyone is asking: is it necessary to have a dating site based on dietary needs/preferences? (Is most of what is online "necessary"?) The biggest argument against it is that "opposites attract" and it is good to be with people who are different than you. (As if two people who are both gluten free will have EVERYTHING else in common too! Really?!) But isn't matching people with commonalities what online dating is all about? (I've never tried it, so I don't actually know what I'm talking about, but I can't imagine saying "I hate sports" on my profile and being matched up with

Pastor  John Ortberg says, "God never wastes a hurt." In other words, we can always learn from our pain, trials, mistakes, etc. Today my hurt is in my knees, my back, my head... okay pretty much everywhere. (My brother and I did a test run of our next triathlon course over the weekend and I'm feeling the effects.) Embracing the hurt doesn't mean ignoring the pain, or enjoying the pain. Embracing the hurt means asking why. Why have I been getting migraines? Why do I have tendinitis? Why does my lower back hurt? Embracing the hurt also means asking if I need to make a change. Do I need to change my form when running, biking, or swimming? Do I need to make a change in my work environment (lighting, chair, desk, etc.)? Do I need to change my eating habits? Do I need to workout less, or workout more? Or do I simply need to go through the pain to get to where I want to be? The same can be said for emotional pain. If I lose a loved one, for example, I'm obviou

My second husband and I used to go for Sunday drives. It was something we looked forward to every week. After church we would hop on the Harley or climb into the pickup and just drive. With no destination in mind. No map to guide us. No time constraints. For the pure and simple purpose of spending time together on the road. Yesterday I had a sudden longing for a Sunday drive. Why, after two years, I don't know. But I'm not one to question these things. So, despite the fact that it wasn't Sunday, I didn't have a traveling companion, and I had plenty of work I "should have" been doing, I took a Sunday drive. With no destination in mind. No map to guide me. And no time constraints. For the pure and simple purpose of spending time on the road. And I had the best time. The perfect afternoon. It makes me sad that Sunday drives aren't common any more. That adults are "too busy" and kids are "too bored" to drive aimlessly together for

( BALANCE, PART 1 , in case you missed it.) As my sister-in-law says, "Balance = A continuous battle in my world." It is soooo easy to lose our balance! Hence the need for EMBRACE BALANCE, PART 2. When I was in high school (or maybe junior high) one of my coaches (volleyball? softball? basketball? track?) taught me the art of balance. "Think about your belly button," she (or maybe he) said. We were attempting to stand on one foot and do quad stretches. And we were falling all over the place. Which was completely unacceptable to the coach. Who wasn't about to let us "cheat" by holding on to a wall. Which is when the life lesson came in to play: "Think about your belly button." And like magic we stopped falling over. I've been thinking about my belly button ever since. Whenever I do quad stretches. Whenever I do yoga. Whenever I ride my bike. Whenever I have to face my fear of heights. Whenever I stand on one foot just for the h

I have a regular route that I like to follow when I ride my bicycle. I've been riding all summer and I always follow this same route. Yesterday, however, I decided I would ride the route, but I would do it in reverse, heading south first instead of north. I expected to have these great revelations about 'seeing the same thing but from a new perspective' or 'seeing new things when you are willing to break out of your routine'. But it just didn't happen. The fields weren't greener. The hills weren't easier. The birds didn't sing differently. And the teenagers didn't pay any more attention to the road while they attempted to text and drive. It was, after all, the same route. Only in reverse. Maybe I was just hungry, therefore cranky. Maybe my knees were telling me that back-to-back days of hour-long bike rides was unnecessary. Maybe it was the wind and humidity that dampened my spirits. Or maybe there was just nothing wrong with the ori

Recently I saw a man, about my age, thank a much older veteran for his service. It makes my heart happy to see this. Every day we see examples of how respect has diminished in our culture. We no longer revere our parents, our elders, our teachers, our government. We no longer honor our spouses, our children, our friends. And then I see someone thank a veteran and I am encouraged. Perhaps not all is lost. Regardless of how you feel about war, it shouldn't change how you feel about people. Regardless of how you feel about institutions (the government, education, marriage), it shouldn't change how you treat people. We are to honor one another. Honoring our veterans is a beautiful example to all of us of how we should treat people each and every day. Today we especially honor those who lost their lives on September 11, 2001. And their families. And all the responders that day. And the men and women who continue "to serve and protect." Thank you for your serv

Over a delicious Thai dinner last evening, my friend asked me what, in all that is going on in my life, is the most fun. I contemplated this with a mouth full of tofu. Then, "All of it," I said, adding, "I wouldn't do it if it wasn't fun." We laughed, both knowing how true this is of me. (I'm not saying this is an admirable quality. It certainly doesn't keep the house clean. But it is who I am.) "Okay," my friend said, "then what is the least fun?" I contemplated this too, enjoying another bite of veggies and tofu, mildly spiced at a level 2. "None of it," I said finally, completely unable to think of something I currently do that I don't find equally as enjoyable as all the rest. "Probably because I don't do too much of any one thing. If all I did was edit, or all I did was write, or all I did was preach, or all I did was run, or all I did was hang out with the kids, any of those things would pro

My community hosts a Corn Festival every year, the weekend following Labor Day. "What is a Corn Festival?" someone asked at church yesterday. "It's cotton candy and kettle corn and homemade ice cream," one person said. "It's face painting and petting zoos and train rides for the kids," I added. "It's tractor pulls and steam engines and antique farm equipment," another piped in. "The first one was in 1978," someone with a bit of knowledge shared. "It was started by some of our members, among others, to celebrate the role agriculture has played in our community." Like all festivals and county fairs, it is all that and more. It is time to celebrate what is unique to your community. It is time to have fun as a family. It is getting hot and sweaty while walking and laughing and dancing. It is cooling off with homemade ice cream and frozen lemonade and watching tractor pulls from the grandstands. It i

Nyad just crossed swimming from Cuba to Florida off her bucket list! Yesterday I asked my Facebook friends what was on their bucket lists. Many of the responses involved travel: New York, Paris, the ocean, London, the Grand Canyon, Bora Bora, a train ride across Canada... Mine involved travel as well: El Camino de Santiago . I got to thinking: what is it that draws us to distant lands? To travel? To seeing and experiencing different people and cultures? I'm not sure I really have an answer. Just a yearning to go, see, and do. Not because I don't love where I am (I'm actually a major homebody!) but because I don't want to limit my vision to my tiny neighborhood. There is so much more. And experiencing it, being part of it, enlarges my vision of the world, God, and myself. It may not change me, but it does deepen my understanding of me. So maybe the answer to our longing for travel isn't about "going" somewhere, but about exploring more fully who

Last night I hung out with a group of people who have either walked el Camino Francés  (approximately 500 miles across Spain) or who have it on their bucket lists. Men and women, from college age to well past retirement. It's on my list. In fact, it's the only thing on my list. I get overwhelmed when I have too much to do. I find it far less stressful to have only one thing in my bucket at a time. Plus I'm more likely to do the one thing, if there is only one. So for now, walking el Camino is my list, the whole list. "When are you going?" Joe asked me as people were starting to disperse. He was younger than me and talked slow, like a California surfer. "Now is good," I said. "Before life gets in the way, you know?" We were at the REI store so I didn't even need to go home and pack. Everything I needed was right there. Not to mention the airport was less than 30 minutes away. "For me too," he said. "I want to ba

Fresh goodness from Jacksons Market. I dated a boy in junior high and high school who refused to eat peaches because they were fuzzy. It's funny what you remember about people. I remember his favorite song, his phone number, how he looked in sweat pants, our last conversation on his parents' front porch when he asked me what I thought it would be like to "live with the stars." And, of course, that he wouldn't eat peaches. He died in a car crash when we were still teenagers. If he was alive today I would make him eat peaches. I would smash them against his face if I had to and let all the juice run down his stubbly chin and onto his sweatpants. Not one time but a million times. Or a million and one times. Because no one should leave this earth without eating a peach, fuzzy skin and all. But since he's not here I'll eat one for him, not one but a million and one, while he waits in the stars for me. EMBRACE PEACHES . Don't let all that jui

This year has been all about opening myself up to new experiences, opportunities, emotions, and awareness. But along the way I've also discovered things I need to let go of, things that prevent me from being more open. Fear - With less than four weeks between me and my next triathlon, those old fears are rising again: flat tires, leg cramps, getting kicked in the face while swimming. I want to relinquish these fears (along with countless others that have nothing to do with triathlons), to give them up in favor of positive expectations, purposeful preparation, and simple acts of faith. Guilt - I worked on Labor Day and more than one person chided me for it. So the dilemma for me was, do I feel guilty for working on Labor Day or guilty for taking a Sabbath the day before (which was why I had to work on Labor Day)? I choose neither. I had a job to do and I got it done, and I got it done on the day I chose to do it. And maybe I'll celebrate Labor Day with a day off tomorrow!

Two Sundays a month I preach in Xenia, Ohio. Yesterday was one of those Sundays. I chose the topic "hospitality" to teach on this Sunday for a number of reasons. One, because we aren't very hospitable to people of other cultures (think about Syria last week, and Muslims since September 11).  Two, because lots of people who aren't in church are looking for a place to belong, to feel welcomed and at home.  Three, because many people who are in church are so focused on having a "welcoming minute" to declare who is allowed to be there that they are spending more time focusing internally on what they believe than externally on actually being kind and welcoming to others. Four, because the Bible tells us to practice hospitality, and to do so without grumbling, and in this way we show love to one another. Five, because folks at this church were so gracious and hospitable to me following my previous sermon when I admitted to not having perfect faith , that