2020

Last week Kenzi told me she was going to grow up to be an artist, Tessa was going to ride horses, Tysen would be a ballerina, and Kaylee a mom. This week Kenzi was considering being a writer or in the "mooovies". I asked Kaylee what she thought. "I want to fly airplanes," she said, matter of fact. Kenzi started to cry. "I want to fly airplanes, too," she said. "It takes two people to fly an airplane," I assured her. "You can both fly the plane." "I want to be a doctor," Tessa said. "That's a great thing to want to be," I told her. "I want to do hair, too," Kaylee said, not wanting to limit herself to being a pilot. "And paint nails." "That would come in handy in this house," I said. Tysen then sat on my lap and said, "I want to be married. I am thankful for you and the person who married you... Who married you?" (Doesn't she just melt your heart!) &

I've thoroughly enjoyed this month of gratitude ! Thinking about who and what I am thankful for, as well as hearing what others are thankful for, has filled my heart with joy! These are just a few that have stood out for me that I or my friends have been thankful for: Letters in the mail. Growing up in church. Memories. Challenges. The things I have this year that I didn't last year. That hour after the kids go to bed when I can breathe deep, drink wine, and listen to them snore. Having a job. Having "too much" so I can give generously to others. Kids who love to read. Snow. A house to clean and clothes to wash. Health. Encouragement from friends when I'm sick. Laughter. Gathering around the table with family. Locks on the bathroom door. Haircuts. Safety in travel. That person in my life who I talk to every single day. My 7-year-old nephew would add: meat, toys, ordering lunch a la carte, beating Aunt Katie at board games, Skylanders, and a cornucopia. After

Last year I didn't put up a single decoration for Christmas. This year I thought I might continue the trend. It's just me, after all. I would have to fill my own stocking and eat all the cookies in the jar. (Have you ever seen one lonely stocking hanging above the fireplace?) I would know what was inside every gift under the tree, no surprises. (Where is the magic in that?) There's really no point, is there? And then the snow started to fall. In big, wet flakes. I put on my snow pants and caught flakes on my tongue and made angels with my limbs. And when I was cold and wet I came in, put a little Baileys in my coffee, pushed play on my favorite Christmas album , and lit a maple butter scented candle. Maybe just the nativity , I thought. And as I was unpacking Joseph, Mary holding the baby Jesus, and the little shepherd, I remembered that this is what Christmas is all about. This visual reminder that what is important is not how many stockings are hung by

I delivered a really great gratitude sermon on Sunday. It was full of energy and enthusiasm, challenge and grace, laughter and a few tears. It included the kids as well as the adults, Scripture and loads of personal stories. And yet... Confession time... I, personally, don't believe women should be pastors. Let me say first of all that this is not the fault of the church or the way I was raised. I have never sat through a sermon (nor would I deliver one) that said as a woman I should sit there and be quiet (which isn't what I am proposing, by the way). My dad never told me this, nor did my grandfather. We even had a female pastor when I was a kid and everyone loved her, including (maybe especially) me. It is simply a personal conviction I have, based on my own reading of Scripture and time with the Lord in prayer and waiting. I believe men are to be the spiritual head of our churches and households, to guide and protect and nurture the flock. (And find it eternally fr

Tessa and I were reading about Snow White last week. There was a picture of all the dwarfs together and she asked me which one was which. I went through and made educated guesses based on their facial expressions. "That one got up too early," she said about Sleepy. I was intrigued by this observation. I never thought about the fact that maybe Sleepy wouldn't be sleepy if he had gotten a better night's sleep. Next she pointed at Sneezy. "He needs allergy medicine." Poor Sneezy. Imagine how much better his life would be if he could get Claritin clear. "What's wrong with Grumpy?" I asked. "Maybe no one gave him a valentine," she said with complete sincerity. I didn't tell her that Valentine's Day was a long time ago and he should be over it by now. But she is probably more on target than me anyway. Most of us hold on to our hurts for a long time. "Dopey isn't very smart," I said. "Snow White cou

While I was doing laps yesterday a woman swam over to me. "Are you the one who is going to walk across Spain ?" she asked. I laughed. And concurred. Which led to a wonderful conversation about seizing the moments, dreams, and passions given to us. Saying "yes" to life. Saying "yes" NOW. After I went back to my laps it occurred to me that I have only been going to the gym for two and a half weeks and already I've developed a reputation. Not that that should be surprising. Like it or not we are a people who love to talk. (Especially about the new girl.) To tell stories and find out each other's stories. And more often than not we find out those stories from secondary sources in the locker room, over coffee, at the mill or the hairdresser, the bar or church parking lot. I can't make people stop talking. Or stop listening. But I can try to live my life so that what they say--the reputation I inspire--is a positive one. One I'm happy

Last week I invited you to help me EMBRACE MORE by sharing your suggestions of what you think I should embrace. (I am loving hearing from you, so keep them coming!) Amy--beautiful wife, mother, woman, and friend--shared with me what she embraces daily: small victories . These small victories range from laundry to nighttime snuggles to schoolwork accomplishments to overcoming obstacles and beating the odds. She had reasons why each of these count as victories, but really they all boil down to the same thing: attitude. Amy chooses to celebrate these moments. To focus on what she does have, not what she doesn't. To find the positive in every circumstance. To not sit around and wait for a "big victory" to be grateful, but to find gratitude in every small one: every step, every laugh, every breath.   Having a grateful attitude toward small victories is the best way I can think of to embrace more, enjoy more, have more. After all, most of life is made up of small moment

On the way home from school yesterday my nieces were discussing Christmas lists. "Make sure you make a girl list and not a boy list," Kenzi said. "But I like boy lists," Tessa said. "What is on a boy list?" I asked. "Guns!" They shouted in unison. Then one by one they shared: "Christmas trees." (Never considered that before.) "Monster movies." "Knights in armor to protect you." "I could protect you," I offered. Tysen asked, "Would you kick the bad guys in the knees?" "If they were really bad," I said. "Or I might just ask them to go away." "That won't work," they all agreed. Then Kaylee asked, "Can you throw fire from your hands?" Followed by: "Dragons breathe fire. Dragons are on boy lists." "So what is on a girl's list?" I asked. "Cars." (Sorry fellas!) "Barbies." "Ladybug pill

One of my very first blog posts this year was EMBRACE ENDINGS . I was clearly hoping for some closure in 2013. To move on. Forward. To let go. With finality. I have to admit that 10 months later I am no closer to being good at letting go than I was in January. In fact, I forgot--or at least lost focus on--my longing for endings until I read a passage this week from Stasi Eldredge's " Becoming Myself ": I was at a Graham Cooke conference a number of years ago when he taught about how our friendships change and how normal that is. He said most friendships last three to five years. Really? And, he said, they are meant to have a duration of three to five years. Not every friend in our lives is meant to walk with us through the remainder of our lives. Oh, we love them still. And though all change feels like loss, it is good to bless people on their way, to hold them loosely, and to let them go. Wow! No wonder some of my relationships frustrate me. No wonder I feel like I

After spending every day for two weeks with my nieces and nephew I felt confident in delivering a sermon on Sunday about how parenting is a lot like preaching. These are the main points: In both parenting and preaching... I have no idea what I am doing 90 percent of the time.  I learn more than I could ever teach. I have to pray constantly that I won't completely screw up, and hope that others will have mercy when I inevitably do.  It isn't my job to always do everything for the kids or the congregation, but to encourage them to be and do and wrestle and grow and learn independent of me. I don't have all the answers. Not even close. Not even a little bit. (And that's okay.)  At a glance you might think this list proves I shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a pulpit, let alone a McDonald's Playland. But here's the thing... Despite not knowing what I am doing (that we are clear on!), what I do know is this: (1) I am called to be a spiritual momma to a

I didn't expect Patricia to show up at church yesterday. She was a visitor. In need of prayer. I had even planned on saying during my sermon that church isn't the way it is portrayed on television, with people randomly dropping in to pray. But yesterday church was exactly like that. And we had the opportunity to be the church, to pray over her, to encourage her, to thank her for reminding us of our purpose. To invite her and her family to lunch. I didn't expect my Internet to not work last night and this morning. To not be able to post this blog according to MY schedule. But it allowed me to go to bed earlier last night and to get to the gym earlier this morning.  After my trip to the gym, I didn't expect the electricity to go out in Wal-Mart, or to be ushered out when it did (because the registers automatically shut off 20 minutes after a power outage). But I already had everything I needed in my cart, so anything that would have been added after that would hav

Be it flying solo for frozen pizza and DVDs after a long week, dinner out and movies in with friends, or date night at your favorite restaurant and theater... EMBRACE DINNER AND A MOVIE. It may be cliché, but that doesn't mean it isn't the perfect way to spend a Friday night.

On the way back from the funeral home yesterday the kids were all trying to make sense of heaven. In particular they were trying to figure out how it was possible for their great-grandpa to "see" us wherever we are. "I don't believe that," my nephew said finally. "Believe what?" I asked. "That he can see us." "What do you believe?" I encouraged. "I think he is just dead," he said. One of his sisters then asked again how their great-grandpa could see us no matter where we are: school, home, grandma and grandpa's house... "It's like Santa," my nephew explained to his sisters. They all got quiet. And I realized he understood the concept, even if he wasn't sure he bought it. Which I think is perfectly healthy. Even good. Really good actually. We don't have to believe everything everyone tells us. And we probably shouldn't. It is okay to doubt. We can go through the process of fig

My nephew and nieces' great-grandfather passed away on Saturday. This is the second great-grandfather who has passed in their lifetime, but the first that they are old enough to be aware of. The kids know that Buck was in the hospital, that he was sick and didn't get better, that his heart stopped working, and that he didn't wake up. Beyond that my brother and sister-in-law have given the kids space to ask questions and process in their own way, which I think is perfect. I've spent a lot of time with the kids in the past two weeks, to help out while the family spent Buck's last days together and have made arrangements for the funeral, so I've been able to witness some of this processing. Tessa: "Buck isn't going to wake up... not even on Christmas?" Kaylee: "Where does Aunt Jenn live?" (Me: "Texas.") "Buck is in Texas. At the doctor." (Presumably she thinks of him as "far away" and you can't get

Yesterday I embraced  everybody . Back in May I embraced everything . And I truly have tried to be open to anything and anyone who enters my path this year. But how do you follow everything and everyone? What comes next? My cousin reminded me that the year is quickly coming to an end. And if, in fact, "embrace" is my word of the year , I'll soon have to look for a new word to embrace in 2014. But the year is not over yet! We still have time to EMBRACE MORE ! And so, here is my request. Will you help me make the next 7 weeks the best yet? Intentional, open, big, and bold! Will you suggest "more" for me?  Will you write in the comments below (anonymous comments are accepted if you prefer!) what you would like to see me embrace... what I haven't embraced yet... what I need to embrace again... what you have been embracing... what you wish you could embrace... whatever is on your heart. Any and all suggestions are welcome. None are too crazy, too silly,

While eating dessert last night I asked Kaylee what she was thankful for "today". She thought for a moment while eating the icing out of her pumpkin roll, then said enthusiastically, "Everything! And everybody! In the whole world!" I told her that was the best possible thing I could think of to be thankful for. Everybody. Not just girls. Not just people in pink dresses (there was a lot of that happening last night). Not just people who look like me, or think like me, or act like me, or believe what I believe. But everyone. In the whole wide world. People I have met, and people I haven't yet. People I like instantly, and people it takes some work to find affection for. People I agree with, and people I don't. People I see everyday, people I would like to see more often, and people who have since passed from this earth. Everyone. In the whole world. I hope I can be thankful for that too. Not just in theory, but also in action. EMBRACE EVERYBO

Tis the season for charitable giving appeals to fill our mailboxes and inboxes and "missed" calls. From colleges to churches, missions to cures... I actually find it quite easy to sort these appeals into 3 categories:  trash (I can't give to everyone),  the 'I'd like to give and maybe I will' pile (there are way too many in this pile), and  I'm headed to my computer right now to donate (there are a select few who make the list year after year). One letter came this week from an organization that I love with the fullness of my heart: A Christian Ministry in the National Parks (ACMNP) . I served with ACMNP at the Grand Canyon where I had the easiest, funnest summer-with-Jesus of my life. And I served with ACMNP at Yellowstone where I had the hardest, deepest, most life-changing, catapult me into wholeness summer of my life. Both experiences were instrumental to the life of ministry I have today and I wouldn't change a minute of either one. 

Tysen. Beautiful Tysen. World changer, this one. Last Friday I asked her what she was thankful for. "Jumping in mud puddles," she said. Her brother added, "She REALLY likes that." It is true that she is happiest in motion. Twirling, jumping, climbing, running. I'm surprised we haven't found her on top of the refrigerator yet. On Sunday I asked her again. "What are you thankful for today?" It has taken me this entire week to process her answer, to embrace it for myself, to recognize it for the gift that it is. "Me," she said. One tiny word and those big beautiful eyes piercing my soul. "Me." Not mud puddles or Aunt Katie. Not school or silly songs. Not tights or beautiful dresses, princesses or cinnamon rolls. But "me". And then she pressed her face up against the door and made an awkward smashed-up-nose-while-kissing-glass face. Because that is part of her "me". Silly, playful, compassionate

Traditionally, nursery rhymes don't have the most positive messages. Babies fall out of trees, eggs are irreparably cracked, girls get suspended for taking sheep to school, dishes run off with silverware they aren't married to, and don't forget the concussions (Jack and Jill, plus the old man who bumped his head and couldn't get up the next morning). And perhaps my favorite... There was an old woman who lived in a shoe. She had so many children, she didn't know what to do; She gave them some broth without any bread; She whipp'd all their bums, and sent them to bed. Somehow these messed-up messages become the sing-song rhymes of our childhood. We repeat them enough times that 30 years later we are able to teach them to our own children, no songbooks required. And we do. Sometimes without even thinking about the messages. Or the fact that we have the right to retell them. Last night at dinner Kenzi sang us a new song: Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall;

When I asked my nephew Kasen (age 7) what he was thankful for he replied quickly, "Trenton." I asked him to tell me what about Trenton he was thankful for. "He sits next to me. There is this other kid who tries to steal my seat. And I'm not very good at wrestling. So Trenton defends me. He protects me. He makes sure I'm safe." In a world where bullying is far too prevalent, I am so grateful that Kasen has a friend who makes sure he is safe. It's important to have friends. Who are there for you in laughter and when you are fighting back tears. On your most important days and your ordinary days and when you've made another ridiculous mistake. To listen when you need to talk and talk when you need to listen. Who you want to drop everything for because you know they would do the same for you. I'm lucky enough to have those people in my life. People who would wrestle for me and make sure I'm safe. And I am indeed thankful. EMBRACE FRIE

The gym is a scary, scary place. Guys hopped up on energy drinks and protein shakes. Girls in spandex. Old ladies in the locker room changing into swim suits while talking about "senior moments". Sweaty towels and socks. And that one creepy guy who makes inappropriate remarks about your muscles while you attempt shoulder presses. And so yesterday I had to listen to Skillet's Not Gonna Die  repeatedly as I drove to the gym--determined to sign up for a membership despite my fears--to remind myself that as scary as the gym was it would not kill me. Not the sweaty people or the skinny people or the too energetic people or the creepy guy. Not even the lady who went out to her car to smoke in between reps.   I will be honest. After an hour at the gym I felt affirmed in my fears. It was all those scary things and filled with all those scary people. But it was also full of friendly people. Helpful people. Appropriately happy and hydrated people. People committed to their

Last week, hanging out with my friend V. After getting in his truck he says, "I should have opened your door for you. One point against me." We laughed. And started a tally. His parents were at the restaurant where we wanted to eat. Strike 2. Instead we went for pizza. He let me pick the toppings. Plus 1. We went to the park to eat our pizza. I had to go to the bathroom. It was locked. V handed me a pile of napkins. Strike 2 again. He is a really good driver. Plus 1. And so the night continued. Alternating points for and against. And laughing. He texted me when he got home that night. Something ridiculous. Followed quickly by a "My bad. Strike 17." Of course none of the points were of any consequence. Just two friends making jokes. Even so it was interesting to be attentive to what counted as a plus--those things that made me feel comfortable, special, safe. And those that counted as strikes--things that made me feel ordinary. I don't actually

Continuing our theme of gratitude , on this our second day of alphabet thankfulness, today I am grateful for my brothers. Timothy is my older brother (by 12 months and 15 days) and the leader of our crazy pack. This week he sent me an email about the American Triple T (which I hear our friend Mike is crazy and awesome enough to have signed up for! You rock Mike!!). This involves doing 4 triathlons in 3 days. Over 140 miles. In the subject line of the email my brother wrote: "This looks soooo stupid! 2015 maybe..." Which is precisely why I love my brother so much. Nothing is ever too big, too hard, too stupid, or too out of reach to attempt. Matthew, my younger brother by 3 years, is a lot like Tim. Claiming all his life that he was the "dumb one" in the family, Matthew went on to college to double major in mathematics and engineering. And when the rest of us had to look at a map to see where Oklahoma even was, he was packing his bags and moving there after la

I love November. Magically, with the flip of a calendar, everyone is suddenly grateful! Every day people think about and even post on Facebook what they have to be thankful for. Will you? Last week I got the jump on gratitude. My dog Jovi takes a week or two every fall and barks nonstop. Last week was her week. After being frustrated and sleep deprived I decided one morning at 3 a.m. to be grateful. This is what my gratitude sounded like: "God, I'm grateful that you brought Jovi into my life, even if she is barking right now at 3 a.m. It wasn't nice of someone to lock her in a barn and leave her there at 8 weeks old, but I'm grateful that my dad found her in time. Hopefully she only remembers how happy she has been since. You knew I needed her that week, the week of my first divorce. She got me out of bed those first few months and has been my constant companion for the last 7 years. I'm glad she is healthy and alive (as evidenced by her constant barking) a