2020

It's how a mother knows something is wrong with her child (watch the latest episode of Grey's Anatomy ).  It's how a batter knows when to swing at a pitch.  It's why my dog digs and chases and how she knows it is 8 p.m. and time for supper.  It's why my first response in a scary situation is to pray.  It's why I don't feel the need to lock my doors in Ohio. It's how I form a sentence and how I edit (and why I never bothered learning the parts of speech).  It's how you know someone is watching you, and whether or not you want them to.  EMBRACE INSTINCTS .   There's a reason we all know the phrase "trust your instincts". Watching Trouble With The Curve , because Clint Eastwood knows that "A computer can't tell if a kid's got instincts." 

Overlooking Old Faithful from the roof of the Inn. August 2001. While living in Wyoming in 2001, I had to be at work by 5 a.m. in order to get breakfast started for the hundreds of staff who operated the Old Faithful area of Yellowstone National Park. George was one of the other managers who also had to be there by 5, and he was always standing outside when I arrived on foot. "Good morning," I greeted him. "What's so good about it?" He replied.  This became our ministry to one another. On mornings when he needed help finding something good I would say: "It's not supposed to snow today" or "I'm making biscuits and gravy" or "The bison weren't blocking the bridge today so I didn't have to take the long way around" or "Maybe the hippies will sing something besides Peter, Paul, and Mary tonight" or "I'm hitching to the hot springs after work for a swim."  He usually met my re

I started Wednesday off with the Gospel of Mark. Two pieces found in the tenth chapter proved important for the remainder of the day:  Children are at the very center of life in the kingdom. Mark this: Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in. (vv. 14-15) He came to serve, not to be served. (v. 45) My afternoon was spent with one of those centers of life: my nephew Kasen. Though he struggles to keep 50 pounds on his tiny frame, he has a huge heart, full of generosity and love. And while I might have fooled myself into thinking I would be serving him with an afternoon of adventure, he repeatedly affirmed for me the truth of the Scripture, that in order to be Christ-like I must strive to be more like him than he like me. You'll see what I mean: Kasen Matthew, age 6. While I was waiting for the school bus I hid Easter eggs in the yard for him to hunt. After finding them he asked if he could take them home and hide them for

When my sister and I decided to each pick a "word of the year" we had no idea what we were getting into. But we should have known better, because on day one neither of us picked our words. They were definitely God-chosen. And God continues to show up, every day, on my journey to "embrace" 2013. Some days I have to look harder than others. But other days He just lays it out for me. Take this week for example. On Monday night, after an evening of Dancing with the Stars and a long conversation with my sis about how to solve the world's problems, I was scraping the ice off my windshield while my car warmed up. My radio was tuned to a station I have lots of God-moments with, and there must have been a good song on when I pulled in earlier in the day because the volume was noticeable. When the windshield was clear I slid into the driver's seat and was told by the DJ: " You have to embrace brokenness before you can embrace healing ." It was such a vis

My nieces have adopted the phrase "all day" and the facial expressions to match. Tessa's "I love you all day" face: Kaylee's "I be good all day" face: Tysen's "I can't hear you all day" face: And Kenzi's "You have to work all day" face: If there is one thing four-year-olds have down pat, it is living for today, every moment, ALL DAY. More often than not, these girls are my greatest teachers. EMBRACE ALL DAY . "Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow." (Matthew 6:34 MSG) Reading Matthew , because I've got ALL DAY to go back to Lamentations . 

If I go missing, you know I've joined the World Race .  Everyone has a story to tell. I have one. You have one. But how do we get people talking? 1. Shut up. A few weeks ago I was at the bank, setting up a new account. I wasn't saying much because I had my eye on the keurig in the corner. Plus I didn't want Tonya to accidentally put the wrong name, address, or social security number on my account. "You're very quiet," she said. "Can I tell you a story?" I'm a writer. A good story is worth the risk of a little identity theft, so I chanced that she could type and talk at the same time. 2. Be understanding. While at the bookstore recently I slid a copy of No More Perfect Moms across the counter to the cashier. "I think I need to read this," she said. "I'm not a pinterest mom," she continued. "I'm a 'lucky to have showered today' mom." "I think people are starting to be more hone

Life-long Duke fans. December 2009. Brackets, like life, are full of predictability. Number one wins. Number sixteen loses. Brackets, like life, are full of upsets. The underdog wins. The most decorated loses. Brackets, like life, are full of chance. The blue team wins. The blue team loses. Good. Bad. Predictable. Surprising. Happy. Sad. Winner. Loser. The odds of coming up with a perfect bracket are 9.2 quintillion to one.  The odds of knowing how your life will turn out, however, is probably more like infinity to one. Some decisions, like some games, are more important than others. Sometimes you make the right decision and it turns out in your favor. Sometimes it doesn't turn out the way you planned. Sometimes you make the wrong decision but in the end life rights it for you. Other times you have to dig your way out of your mess. You can make the same decision twice and it will turn out exactly the same. Or exactly the opposite. You can have a perfect first round bracket,

Often times our perspective determines whether or not we see ourselves through eyes of strength or eyes of weakness. For example, I am a procrastinator. This is one of my weaknesses. But I'm great under the wire, in a pinch, at the last minute, with the unexpected. This is one of my strengths. Let's say Jerry calls me while I'm having lunch on Saturday and asks me to fill the pulpit on Sunday because the pastor had an unexpected fall. Because I'm good in a pinch, I can say "yes" and have a sermon prepared by the next morning without feeling the least amount of stress. Chances are, however, because I'm a procrastinator, even if I had a month's notice to preach on Sunday I'd likely still wait until Saturday afternoon to prepare the sermon. Or Carolyn could email me at 11 p.m. on a Thursday and ask if I have time for a last minute project that needs turned in by Monday morning. I can say, "no problem, I'm on it", without losing any

When I started high school I told my dad he wasn't allowed to start treating me like a girl and not asking me to help out around the farm. He took me seriously and still asks for my help when he needs an extra set of hands. Just the other day he filled two 5-gallon buckets full of rocks. We were standing in the middle of the field and he said, "I'd let you carry one to the truck, but I'll have better balance if I carry one in each hand." (As if I could lift a 5-gallon bucket full of rocks!) The fact that he's willing to let me help makes my heart happy. So often we let our pride get the best of us and we refuse to ask for help, or even accept it when it is offered. Way back in the 1500's some guy named John  wrote, "Many hands make light work." He didn't write, "My hands get the job done," or "If I want it done right, I'll do it myself," or "People who ask for help are lazy." Nope, none of those. He wrote,

In 2005 I signed up for Seminary classes at the Earlham School of Religion in Richmond, Indiana. Among my classes that semester was Old Testament. I quickly learned that there was a huge difference between the way I'd been reading the Old Testament--for my own personal spiritual nourishment--and actually "studying" Genesis through Malachi. In addition to reading the entire Old Testament in three months, we also had to read A Theological Introduction to the Old Testament , Global Bible Commentary , Women in Scripture , and many assorted articles. (My table mates clued me in about halfway through the class that the reading assignments were unrealistic and I shouldn't actually try to keep up. They'd stopped reading long ago.) Other than the professor's interpretive strip tease to accompany our reading of the Song of Solomon , it was a very academic class, at least for me. I had, after all, spent four years as an undergrad giving speeches, watching films, vis

I haven't been to church in the past two weeks because I can't bear the thought of Ruth Anna not being across the aisle from me. My whole life she has been there. And now she's gone. When I was 13, Ruth Anna and her husband Ben loaded up myself and two of their grandsons and off we went on a road trip to Iowa. Once there, they dropped me off at my grandparents' house--my second home.  While I was fishing and playing cards and enjoying my vacation, Ben and Ruth Anna were also visiting one of their second homes--among the Mesquakie Indians. Ruth Anna wasn't just an Indian brave; her whole life says bravery to me. How else do you explain her willingness to take three teenagers on a road trip at the age of 70? Her lifelong commitment to serving others? The adventurous spirit that led her to take up ice skating late in life? Even when her eyesight began to fail, she didn't let it stop her. She had spent a lifetime holding Ben's hand, so it was nothing new to

Cancer. Car accidents. Death. Divorce. We do ourselves a disservice if we pretend that life isn't hard. There is something to be said for faith, hope, trust, and peace, but as it says in Ecclesiastes :  There is a time for everything... a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance. I'm not suggesting we stop enjoying life and dwell in the land of the despondent, but I know for myself I often avoid the "time to weep...time to mourn." Which means that when I do experience grief it often sneaks up on me, powerful and unexpected. It brings new meaning to the mourning we often see in the Bible: "When Mordecai learned of all that had been done, he tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and ashes, and went out into the city, wailing loudly and bitterly" ( Esther 4:1 ). Because I can't do anything to change my circumstances, grief makes me want to pull out my hair, or at least shave it off. It makes me want to get a tattoo, akin t

A wise man once said: Whooah, we're halfway there   Whooah, Livin' on a prayer Take my hand, we'll make it I swear  Whooah, Livin' on a prayer Livin' on a prayer! That's right friends. By living on a prayer I have made it halfway through the Bible in just 5 weeks! In my copy of The Message that means I am 736 pages in, nearing the end of Proverbs . How about that for progress! Of course if you do the math that means I am about 286 pages behind schedule if I'm to complete the entire Bible by Easter. But if you also do the math, if I come up 286 pages short that means I'll be finishing up the book of Matthew and reading about the Resurrection on Easter Sunday. So I'd say I'm right on track! EMBRACE PROGRESS . You may not have reached your goal yet, you may even be way behind schedule, but take time to celebrate how far you've come! Listening to Jeff Buckley sing Hallelujah , original lyrics by Leonard Cohen.

Ten years ago today I was celebrating my friend Ryan's birthday in California. His friends had driven in from Wisconsin so we were in full party mode. After many hours of dancing and drinking, we were parked in the driveway of some new friends we had picked up at the bar, waiting for them to change clothes, or leave a note for their moms, or something of the sort, when The Righteous Brothers came on the radio, accusing us of losing our lovin' feeling. Before I knew it I was Charlotte ("Charlie") Blackwood and my entourage had transformed into a bunch of naval pilots. Ryan played the role of Maverick and his best friend Derrick naturally assumed the role of Goose. The other guys surrounded the car with song, as out of tune as Tom Cruise and Anthony Edwards . It was my Top Gun moment of a lifetime (though I doubt the neighbors were impressed with our 3 a.m. serenade). I thought about this yesterday during my reading of the psalms. While many of the psalms celebrate

"Because even if he killed me, I’d keep on hoping." ( Job 13:15 MSG ) This verse gave me pause in my reading yesterday morning. I'm familiar with the same verse in the King James translation: "Thou he slay me, yet will I trust in him", but the idea of "hoping" in difficult circumstances seemed to somehow add power to trust.  To trust is to believe, but to hope is to expect. I should trust God to be with me and strengthen me in hard times, but I can also hope that things will get better and expect good to come out of my circumstances--be it personal or spiritual growth, opportunity to minister to others who are in a similar situation, confidence, etc.  I was reminded of John Stumbo and his incredible story which I heard him tell earlier this month in Indianapolis. One day he was a pastor, a marathon runner, a devoted husband and father, and the next he was in the hospital with a mystery illness that destroyed his ability to swallow for the n

For my birthday last month my mother bought me Sarah Young's devotional: Jesus Calling . We established a long time ago that I am terrible at daily devotions (see Embrace Mentors ), so it should come as no surprise that I opened the book for the first time today. "Ironically" the attached ribbon that serves as a bookmark was nestled between March 13 and March 14. The devotion was about living above your circumstances. Trouble in this life is a given, but by keeping our focus on God we can "face this endless flow of problems with good cheer ." A perfect companion since I am reading the book of Job today! The line that really ministered to me was this: "You gain My perspective on your life [when you spend time with Me], enabling you to distinguish between what is important and what is not." Yesterday I became incredibly angry about something that I now see was entirely unimportant. It wasn't the first time this has happened. In fact, I'm

I tried to fast once in college. It didn't go so well. I think I made it until lunch time.  But since then I've learned that fasting doesn't just mean abstaining from food. We can fast from television, Facebook, or soda. We can fast from procrastination, nagging, or anger.  Lent is about fasting from anything that separates you from God. I've chosen to read the Bible for Lent and to make time for that I'm having to abstain from other things that ordinarily occupy my time...Redbox movies, secondary sources, random trips to the mall. I'm also eating healthier because I want to have the energy and focus that reading at such an intensity requires. A couple shots of tequila might make reading about Job's misery a little easier, but I'm more likely to read deeply with grilled tilapia, quinoa, and steamed veggies in my belly.  This week I read about Jehoshaphat (of "Jumping Jehoshaphat" fame), who declared "a nationwide fast" a

Last week was rough for my circle of friends. One buried her mom, while another mourned the one-year anniversary of her own mother's passing. One lost a close friend, and another reflected on the life lessons he learned from his step-father who committed suicide 10 years ago. Yet another learned his mother has cancer, and still one more is preparing for his grandmother's funeral this week. This loss juxtaposed with losing an hour for Daylight Savings Time makes me think about how much time I waste that could be spent showing love to the people around me, listening to their stories, and enjoying their company. With my Grandpa Lowell in his classroom in Hubbard, Iowa, 1992. During the last summer I spent with my grandfather I remember sitting on the back porch together, enjoying the weather and a cold beverage (ice water for me, Old Crow for him), while he told me stories about growing up at the train depot. Well in to our conversation one of my girlfriends called and I

 Taste : Sunday is family dinner night. My sister is an amazing cook and for the past five weeks she has let the birthday boy or girl pick their meal of choice (we had 13 family birthdays between January 22 and March 5!). We've had tilapia, stuffed peppers, pasta and meatballs, and, as seen above, fried chicken and mashed potatoes. I am especially grateful for my sense of taste on Sunday nights!   Sight : This is definitely my weakest sense, as affirmed at last week's eye examination at the Highway Patrol that I only passed by the grace of God. And maybe because of that, I have great appreciation for my ability to see. I give thanks for sight, which allows me to read, to drive, and to marvel at all of God's creation, including the beautiful smiles on the faces of His children. It would be sad indeed not to be able to see Kenzi dressed as Cinderella.   Touch : When I enter my brother's house I become a human jungle gym. Kenzi took this picture of Tysen and Te

"This is the best book I've ever read," the woman said, passing me a hardback with a sunny yellow cover. We were in Meijer, standing side by side in front of a small display of new releases. I took the novel without really looking at the woman who was handing it to me. She didn't say another word, didn't touch another book, just pushed her grocery cart off toward the checkout. I thought it was brave, to give such a glowing recommendation, so I didn't even open the book to see what it was about. I simply decided to buy the novel with the sunny yellow cover stamped with two words I ached for:  Safe Haven . On page 1 , I discovered that the main character's name was Katie. On page 64 , I related to Katie's compulsion to be better so that her husband wouldn't have to treat her the way he did. On page 134 , I was reminded how what initially comes across as attentive, protective, and sweetly selfish soon turns in to control and manipulation.

This $9 tomato served at  Osteria Pronto  was worth every penny. Indianapolis, March 2013.  I didn't need a pedicure in the middle of yesterday's snowstorm. But I got one anyway.  I didn't have  to leave a 50 percent tip for Bobby after sitting at the bar for brunch at Bronte's Bistro . But I left one anyway.  I didn't have  to try Starbucks' new Hazelnut Macchiato  to know it would be amazing. But I tried it anyway. I didn't need a king suite all to myself in a hotel in Indianapolis last weekend. But I stayed in one anyway.   I don't have  to walk my dog every two hours throughout the day (we live on a farm and she can roam hundreds of acres all day long on her own if she wants to). But I do anyway.  I don't need to buy more books, but I want to support local bookstores. So I do anyway.  I don't need to watch television, but Nashville is a total soap opera, and Zero Hour a brilliant mystery, and Dancing with the Stars

I met my parents at 8 this morning to take them to the airport and by 8:15 we were stuck in a ditch. The roads, ditches, and fields were a level plane of snow, so it was impossible to decipher how sharp the curve was, where the road ended and the ditch began. My mom had just offered to give me her AAA card in case I got stranded after dropping them off, and here we were barely a mile from home getting sucked into the ditch by ice and snow. "I wonder what Sam is up to," my dad says casually, referring to the neighbor whose house we had passed a half a mile ago. He pulls out his cell phone and punches in the numbers (Do you know your neighbor's cell number? I'm impressed with my dad on so many levels). "Where are you?" Dad asks when Sam picks up. "Having coffee at Charlie's," I hear Sam respond. "We're in the ditch." "I'll head that way." Dad pushes a button to end the call and then punches in seven new

According to The Free Dictionary , a disciple is "one who embraces and assists in spreading the teachings of another." For many, "embracing" is the easy part of being a disciple of Jesus. It is the "spreading" where we often fall short. It is easier, safer, to keep our beliefs to ourselves. We don't want to offend anyone, appear pushy or overzealous. We are afraid of being rejected, or challenged. We don't know what to say or where to begin. We certainly don't want to misrepresent God. But according to this definition, we cannot be a follower of Jesus without both embracing His teachings and sharing His love with others. On Saturday in Indianapolis, Grammy winner Lecrae  spoke at the annual Simply Youth Ministry Conference . In an interview afterwards he was asked what his biggest dream was for the ministry God has called him to. He responded about his desire to "multiply", to build a legacy of disciplers--disciples who build di

Someone literally put this shirt on my back last night. Little did he know that I am embracing my fears this year, and I can't think of anything scarier than dodge ball. Seriously. I would rather speak in front of 10,000 people than play dodge ball. I would rather go scuba diving (and I hate fish!) or sky diving. Maybe not bungee jumping because that is just plain stupid. But I would rather get gas in the "wrong" part of town in the middle of the night, fly to a foreign country with no luggage, kill a fuzzy spider... You get the idea. Lucky for me this guy didn't ask me to play dodge ball. He simply held the shirt up to my back, said "Yep, you're a small," handed me the t-shirt and walked away. EMBRACE DODGE BALL . Sometimes the first step to embracing our fears is simply naming them. Or wearing the t-shirt. I was blessed to worship with All Sons and Daughters last night, and especially resonated with their song: Called Me Higher , bec

Sweaters. Boots. Hot coffee. Snow angels. Racing from parking lots to get indoors. Shivering. Mittens. Static in hair from knitted caps. Blowing on hands to keep them warm. Heated seats. Lingering over lunch. "Keep warm" wishes from blue-eyed waiters. EMBRACE WINTER . Spring will come soon enough. Drinking an Americano, listening to Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood as recommended by a stranger at Starbucks, if there is such a thing. 

Earlier this week I was singing along to the radio while driving my Volvo on Ohio country roads with a thermos of black coffee in one hand. Suddenly it was the summer of 2001 and I was back in Montana, stopping for coffee in Cooke City after a night of bear hunting with Bradley in his beat up Jeep. Between his ADHD, addiction to black coffee, and recreational drug use, Bradley was an adventure in and of himself. Raised by his mother on sailboats in Massachusetts, he now spent summers working in Yellowstone to pay for his real love: snowboarding all winter in Steamboat, Colorado. The week before we had bushwhacked our way to the summit of Top Notch, my first 10,000+ ft. climb. And now we were in the Absaroka Wilderness looking for my first bear. Beartooth Mountains. Montana, 2001. The weekend was exactly how I always imagined a boy scout trip to be. (My parents made me choose between girl scouts and karate when I was a kid... I chose karate. Had the choice been between boy