The Dark Side of Instagram {you know what they say about assumptions...}

I had the privilege of sitting across the table from one of my dear friends. Our post-it notes and scribbled ideas were sprawled on floral journals and our conversation bounced around, non-stop for about 2 hours. 

We circled around work-related, results-oriented topics until her face sobered. We landed on a raw topic- one that sat so close to her heart that it made her wince just to put it into words. She paused thoughtfully, then with tears in her eyes she named her insecurities. She entrusted every syllable of this soft spot with me. A wound. An unkind word. A stuck place dodging arrows of not-good-enough and not-pretty-enough. I was shocked. Her stuck place sounded a lot like mine. How often had I envied her perfection and felt sorry for myself? I thought I was the only one who had those thoughts? If someone of her caliber, her beauty had hard days and insecurities, then surely no one can be exempt! 

You know what they say about assuming, right? I guess that's sort of true. But that day I learned something else about assuming....

When I assume things about others, I'm drawing permanent conclusions from things I actually don't know are true. Assuming just puts others on a pedestal, held up by self-comparison, self-pity and self-deprivation. It seems like humans are really good at walking around eyeing others' outward perfection, comparing it to the whole (good, bad and ugly) of ourselves. It's a game we will never win. We scroll through Instagram, perusing the lives of others and think...

They never question their significance. 
She must always feel skinny and beautiful. 
I bet that couple is always in love. They never have conflict. 
He is always funny and at ease, I bet he never worries what people think of him. 

While we keep playing this losing game of assuming, we also isolate ourselves by thinking that we are alone in insecurity. 

What if we chose another way? What if we invited each other to share those insecurities? What if we assumed that everyone has a soft spot, a wounded place, a pebble in their shoe? What if the seemingly perfect exterior motivated us to make others feel so safe, safe enough to really just be instead of walking around, assuming and comparing and defending? I think under those protected exteriors we'd find that everyone has

a soul that needs tending. 
a body that feels the burden of sin. 
an identity to nourish and affirm.  

I want this way. Let's start recognizing assumptions. Let's call out truth and fight against the comparison game. Because in the end we are all just souls, fearfully and wonderfully made, needing to be loved.
 

Take it from me {Tips for helping a friend navigate significant change}

People don't like change. I don't like change. 

We/I don't like it because it's different. It means the future is unknown and what's ahead feels out of our control. 

Change can be even more awkward when you're not the one going through it. How does one be a good friend of someone going through significant life change? 

This is a subject that sits real close to my heart these days. It touches on something familiar. I am that person in transition. Our life is changing pretty dramatically as I am taking on a new role in a new place, which means leaving Corban- the place I know so well- the place I've learned to be a grownup and a professional and a shepherd. It means letting go of the hand of security and grasping at a new, less-familiar hand, hoping the comfort of security will eventually find me there. I am so excited! I am also so nervous and sad to leave what I know so well. 

And so my husband and I find ourself in a swirling vortex of incessant grownup questions: When to move? Where to move? Budget. Sell things. Save. What in the world is mortgage insurance? Change, change, change. We are learning so much in this season. 

The most surprising part of this season is how some friends have responded. I'm not sure if I've had unreasonable expectations or if change really is just that awkward for a spectator. I've walked away from social interactions feeling disappointed, overlooked and just a little confused as to why it was so hard for someone else to talk about MY change. All I really wanted was to be asked some good questions and have the space to share how I really feel. So I've given some thought about what one needs to know in order to walk a friend through significant change.

1. Ask a good, open-ended question like "how are you feeling about this transition?" and then LISTEN. Most people that are walking out of one season and into another just want to be asked about it. And then really listened to. Be curious! But also be ready to hear their response. Ask if you really care and then make sure you are actively showing good listening skills.  

2. Don't make it about you. It's so surprising to me how many times I've heard people say, "I hear you're leaving your job!" Thinking it's an invitation to share about this decision, I start speaking but it quickly turns to "I left my job too" or worse, "I just applied for your job!" or some rabbit trail into a not-so-relevant story about a time in their life they had to move to something new. Although sharing a personal story could be an earnest attempt to relate, it can actually completely de-rail a conversation. That's not what good friends do. Make sure you're not making it about you. 

3. Be prepared for feelings. Even ones that don't make sense. Each day that I talk about this job change, I open up a different bag of feelings. Even though most of what I feel is peaceful, sometimes I feel nervous, inadequate, sad, jittery, or crazy excited. It's part of my process. Be prepared that when you're helping a friend navigate change, you're also going to be in the crosshairs of an interesting smorgasbord of emotions. It's just part of the process. Don't worry, it's temporary. Be gracious. 

4. Acknowledge that with significant change comes a sense of loss. One of the sweetest things someone has said to me was, "wow, what a big change. Even though you're moving into something so perfect for you, I bet you're feeling sad to leave your role behind. You will be missed." One of the greatest gifts you can give your friend is the permission to admit a sense of loss. Change means saying goodbye to what was and embracing what is next. Goodbyes are hard! Name the grief and learn to sit in it for a while. Don't skip this part. 

5. Name the ways you see God at work. Direct your transitioning friend to reflection and praise. After you've admitted that change is hard, listened well, asked questions and allowed your friend some space to process, it's time to direct them to the hopeful anticipation of following God's plan. Make observations of ways you've seen the Lord's hand in this journey. Remind them of His goodness.  A true friend knows when to share burdens and when to celebrate. 

Take it from me, a girl in the midst of significant change. 

Tight pants and scrambled eggs: what body image teaches me about faith.

Today I put on a pair of pants that had sat ignored in my drawer for close to 8 months. 

I held my breath as I pulled them up, sucked in and buttoned the top...and good gracious, they buttoned. Barely. I stared at myself in the full length mirror, scrutinizing every curve. The stretchy material hugged the parts of me I wished I could hide in sweat pants. And then it began: that familiar script going over what I ate yesterday, how I wish I exercised more, how I want a longer torso, and why I want Kate Hudson's legs. Those thoughts, so very unforgiving and ungracious - I would totally not let a friend get away with this kind of narrative! Yet I seem to just accept it for myself. And with a penance-like vigilance, I make myself a very green and very flavorless salad that I choke down, feeling virtuous but still very hungry. The day I started noticing my body and caring about clothes was the day I become my body's worst critic. Oh, how good I've become at heaping shame and failure on my body when I look at the mirror. 

Can you relate? 

There's balance here. We tend to like extremes. On one end, I could cut out all food that doesn't come from the produce aisle, only eat smoothies and kale and celery, and essentially take on a part time job by living at the gym 20 hours a week. On the other end, I could just forget about self care completely. I could learn to "love myself", just eat what sounds good, and do whatever sounds fun. Neither sound like a good fit for me. Where is the balance?

Like I said, we tend to like extremes. 

There seems to be a connection between body image and my faith. I'm finding that the unforgiving and ungracious narrative playing in my head regarding my body is a very similar tune to the one that plays in relation to my relationship with the Lord. Sometimes discipline and grace are in abundance. I am loving, gracious, and gentle. Other times things feel a little pudgy-in-the-middle and I am self-conscious, apathetic, and dry. So the way I treat my body is the way I treat my soul - deprive it, discipline it, modify it. Where is the grace in that? 

I think balance means eating that delicious slice of apple pie, savoring every bite, then walking away content without another. Balance means sometimes choosing grilled chicken over pizza because wise choices mean more wise choices. Balance means taking the stairs, riding a bike, but also isn't afraid to stay at home for the night to snuggle and watch Netflix rather than hit the gym. Balance embraces the beauty of fluctuating weight, Zumba, and the oh-so-forgiving material of a favorite pair of pj's. 

Here are some things that are guiding me as I seek balance in body image and faith: 

• Food is fuel. It's not just that, food is also a good gift to be received with gratefulness. It sustains, it delights. Be thankful, partake, do not become its slave, but don't sweat small mistakes. Grace, grace, grace. 
• Seek physical exercise as a spiritual discipline, not an idol. As holistic beings, what's happening in the body can either enhance or distract from the Spiritual. Choose exercise because it can enhance connection with the Lord, not because you don't know who you are without it. 
• Each day is a new start - make breakfast count! Lately I'm either choosing a smoothie with fresh berries, spinach, protein powder and almond milk, or scrambled eggs with spinach, roasted veggies and salsa (let's be honest, I have this for dinner sometimes too). Both are protein packed but make me feel like I'm already hitting it out of the park by 9am. Start strong! 
• Ditch the scale. Jumping on that thing, waiting with dread or hopeful anticipation is just a silly game to me. I'd rather assess my health based on how I feel, how much water I'm drinking and how much energy I have. I've never really liked numbers anyway.
• Know when enough is enough. If I'm starting to feel self conscious about my body, maybe that means it's time to start living in moderation and self-discipline. If I'm already doing those things and still feel self-conscious, maybe that's telling me something about the condition of my heart. Know when you're doing your best, learn to embrace your shape, then steward it with gratefulness. May stewardship and confidence be the new beautiful. 
• Behavior modification doesn't make me more pleasing to God. When I make mistakes, act unbecomingly and live out of my fleshly urges, I buy into the lie that God is going to make me pay. So I punish myself. But the God I've learned to know and trust is a loving, gracious Father who is slow to anger and abounding in love (Psalm 145:8). Rather than look for ways to slap my own hand, why not accept responsibility then look for ways to pursue holiness and tune myself back into His channel of grace? 

So I'm celebrating that these pants fit. So they're a little tight. Maybe my body's changed a little. But I'm seeking balance. Perhaps without the pressure of perfection I'll free myself up to gratefully receive the me that I'm created to be. 

The anxious soul's guide to scary current events

I'm sad to say that the last few months'  events have stirred up something truly ugly inside of me. Long talks, tears, stress, disbelief. The unreasonable has become reasonable. That big scary, murderous scene you only see on movies has happened in real life. I always knew evil existed, but it's become more cruel than I imagined. It makes me ache. It makes me want to stay in bed. 

Many of you are scared too- but just a normal amount of scared. It's the same kind of scared when you get lost somewhere in the dark or can't find your mom in Costco. Many of you also feel the stress and wonder what life could be like in a few years. But it stops there. 

For those of us with anxiety, however, the word "scared" doesn't truly communicate the depth of our experience. As I've shared before, generalized anxiety has been a part of my story for most of my adult life. It's been that little, or sometimes big, grey cloud hanging over my head casting a shadow over day-to-day life. Sometimes I know it's there and it doesn't bother me. Lately it's been big, bossy, and really good at blocking out any semblance of sunshine or light. It's always there, waiting to find something to land on to produce panic. You've guessed it, it's landed on these current world events. If you have an anxious soul like mine, you've probably had some of the same ideas as me- to avoid large public arenas like movie theaters, concert halls or stadiums, avoid large cities, plane rides and travel in general.  How can a newly married couple like us even think about raising children in this world? 

Anxiety tells me to play it very safe, stay comfortable and hidden and put my dreams on hold. 

But what kind of life is a life hidden, cautious and fearful? Surely this can't be the life my Creator dreamed up for me. Surely there is another way. 

I can't always just will my anxiety away. Even with encouragement from others, anxiety doesn't just disappear with even the most genuine spiritual discipline. But there are some things I'm trying so I can master my anxiety instead of let it master me. It's a work in progress, as is my heart, but it's helping. Here's a few tips from the anxious soul's guide to scary current events: 

1. Ignorance isn't bliss. Get the facts, but know when to stop researching. 
It's tempting to bury my head in the sand when I'm scared of what I'm hearing and seeing. However, I'm learning that accurate information is key. Ignorance leaves lots of gaps for imagination, which is fuel for anxiety. Rather than avoidance, I choose my sources wisely and get the facts. However, I know when to stop researching. With so many articles shared on Facebook and so many news sources, there is never an end to the seemingly "accurate" information I could find. It's easy to get on a streak of binge clicking on pictures and headlines but end up with less credible information and a giant load of extra panic. Be informed, but know when enough is enough. 

2. May "what if" be an opportunity for perspective. 
I've shared this before, but it's worth sharing again. A counselor once gave me the most helpful and practical tool. It's a simple phrase- a phrase I often take with me and use when I recognize fear in the voice of a friend. 

What if the worst does happen? 

It seems counterintuitive to ask an anxious person what the worst case scenario is because chances are, we've already pinpointed it, explored it and lived it out in our heads three times. But it's effective because of the way that it names the masked unknown. It puts into words something scary that grows powerful in secrecy. It disarms it by calling it by its name. 

And once the worst case scenario is named, it's amazing what happens. All of the sudden the big, bad, worst loses its power. In this case, I've asked myself this question and have found that even if a very bad guy shows up to my town and wreaks havoc, even if devastation finds me, even if (God forbid) my very life is in jeopardy, I find myself at Heaven's doorstep. Is that so bad?? Perspective. It's a powerful thing. May your "what if" become a chance to see beyond the blinding effect of fear. 

3. You become that on which you dwell. 
This is not meant to sound all existential and "I-think-therefore-I-Am" ish. It's just to say that the things the heart and head choose to dwell on become reality. I think that Paul was onto something by his instructions in Philippians 4: "Whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy...think about these things." He must have known the human's propensity to get fixated on things that lead to devastation. I know my tendency. I don't think this means that believers should be ignorant. I think we need to be informed and strategic. Yet we don't need to walk around in paranoia. Make a conscious choice to dwell on what is true and right and excellent and all those other good things. May that become our reality. 

4. Don't let comfort become the ultimate answer. 
I've noticed something. When I am fearful, my priority singularly becomes how I can keep myself safe and healthy. I no longer ask the Lord how He wants me to use my time or what He wants for my future. I zone in on my own wellbeing and my loyalty gets shifted to an idol- comfort. When comfort is my god, the outcome is fear and selfishness. When comfort is my god, I am not the dynamic, thriving, God-pleasing being that I was made to be. I may feel safe, but absolutely everything is stifled and misused. Truth is, my Creator is the only one worthy of my full attention. He may ask me to get uncomfortable, He may ask me to face what scares me most, but He always gives me His peace and presence to go ahead of me and with me. And that's infinitely better than my own self-protection plan anyway. 

So my friends, if you are an anxious soul, you are in good company. Let's link arms and help each other as we learn how NOT to be mastered by anxiety. In the coming days, may we be people of bold faith, not fear. We are more than conquerors, after all. 

Day 31: Mostly happy endings, C.S. Lewis, and a big rhetorical question.

Day 31 is here! It came quickly and took forever at the same time. Finishing this series kind of feels like finishing your last year of school or a reading the last page of a really good book. It's been hours of study, prayerful thought and rough drafts so it's a relief to reach the end. But it's also a little sad too. I ping pong between rejoicing in the free time I'll have back and wanting to start all over again. Overall, what a beautiful journey this word Enough has led me on! It reminds me of the words of C.S. Lewis, "Further up, further in"- the further into this journey I ventured, the more Enough became fuller and bigger and deeper. The more the truth of it soaked into the unreachable spaces inside of me. It began as a small fascination with Enough, and now it has created a sort of lens through which I view the big life decisions, my relationships and the menial tasks on my list. Can you even imagine how vast and unfathomable the character of our God is? I was drawn to worship and growth through one word, one small characteristic of our Father. How much more immeasurable is the heart of our Creator? It both terrifies and fills me with wonder.

Today, I'm sitting at my desk with a list of things to complete, people to talk to, decisions to make and a basket full of things that I could spend some time worrying about. Some of those include direction for my future, interpersonal conflicts, unanswered prayers...and it leads me to the question:

How does { more than } enough apply to even these deep, unresolved things?

To study, meditate, and write on the { more than } enough God, claim to be transformed and then go back to my old habits would be silly. That would not be fruitful. James' words challenge me too:

Be doers of the Word, not hearers only, deceiving yourselves... (1:22)

A doer hears the truth and lives differently. I want to be a doer.

So this morning I told the Lord my faith needed a little help. I confessed that I wasn't sure that he would respond to those aching things I've been praying about for so long. I repented for my disbelief and asked for His eyes, that the truth of { more than } enough would reach even that sacred, secret place closest to my heart.

And these are the words that rang out, piercing the hazy doubt. These words popped out from Scripture and like a dagger, pierced the precise place of unbelief:

Is anything too hard for the LORD?
|Genesis 18:14|


Now obviously that's a rhetorical question: something asked to make an obvious point. The answer is NO. Nothing is impossible for our { more than } enough God. No broken relationship, no addiction, no crippling weakness, no chronic pain or illness, no big dream, no change of heart, nothing. 

I'm looking ahead at the uncertain future and the deep, unresolved things with anticipation because I've spent this whole 4 weeks meditating on His lavishness. Surely He can do something great with these small, worrisome things. For He will once again prove that He is the One who takes scarcity and sacrifice and makes abundance. 

Day 30: The thing about { more than } enough.

There's something really cool about the promise of { more than } enough. In fact, if you only remember one thing about enough, this should be it. 

Most wonderful things only happen once. That 50% off coupon is a one-time-use. That vacation of a lifetime ends with a plane ride home. That blissful wedding day feels as if time stops, but the next morning comes leaving only dreamy memories in its wake. I keep expecting blessing to happen that way. I keep expecting forgiveness to be that way. 

But it's not. 

It's kind of like an ocean. Draw from it, filter it into a river, watch it splash up onto the rocks, evaporate when the sun comes out. It's endless. The ocean won't run dry. My eyes can't even see its limit, can't measure its depth. It's a powerful, deep, limitless, unfathomable force. 

So is our { more than } enough God. 

His provision, His resources will not run out. His grace and forgiveness just keep moving, giving life and restoration to the earth. His good heart of love is constant and steady and rhythmic like the waves and it beats against my very human soul. It's eroding away the jagged sin, stubborn barnacles of infirmity. It splashes, covers, engulfs me. I cannot get it to stop no matter what I do or don't do. And it's really unlike anything else- He wants me to keep asking for more. He blesses me, gives abundance and then reminds me that He's never going to run out. In fact, asking Him is not needy or consumeristic. It blesses His heart and tells Him that I believe He is able. I grab the hand of a tired, worn out friend and drag them to the ocean of grace. I open up my hands, accept his many good gifts and look up toward Heaven expectantly for more.

And like an ocean, He thunders and crashes powerfully onto the shore of this dry land. I know it'll never end. 

Such is the heartbeat of our immeasurably more God. 

Day 29: Our Hope: A big, (painful), beautiful finale.

Let's rewind to Day 2 to the list of responses Facebook friends gave me in response to my question: What does ENOUGH mean to you? 

At the time I was surprised to find that most people associated this word with finality- a response to being fed up and overdone.  A declaration of "no more". It made me sad that people saw this word so negatively- a word that found me, stirred up hope and promise, and keeps getting bigger and better the more I study it. 

But I found something. An instance in Scripture where Enough is used in this context. It's a declaration of finality, a big loud bang of a finish. It's a good thing, too. It's a wham of a finish to the story of you and I. It's spectacular, but it's not the kind of finale we are used to- the 4th of July firework finale, or the fairy tale ending of a good Disney movie. The story does build expectantly toward the end, but it doesn't climax dramatically. But it really is a big deal, and it's easy to miss if you don't look carefully. 

As Jesus hung shamefully from that cross, hundreds watching him suffer, He knew He'd reached the end of his earthly life. Above His head was an inscription of mockery. The people who'd followed and listened to Him the last few years stood by watching in terror, some were even jeering. A group of men were gambling for Jesus' clothes. His friends, His inner circle  and confidantes, nowhere to be seen. Not even His Father, the One who sent Him, could look upon Him for the sins of mankind were too gruesome to behold for the Holy One. 

Why didn't he get himself down from there? Why didn't He bring revenge to his punishers? Why did he allow himself to be the victim of such brutal torture? 

Committed to obedience and restoration, I bet he closed his eyes and thought of all the faces that would be welcomed into his inheritance, His kingdom as a result of His death. And to him, all of this pain, humiliation and loneliness was absolutely worth it. 

So He bowed His head. Took one more deep breath, and spoke the beautiful finale of our story:

It is Finished. 

Sufficient. 
Complete. 
Full. 
{ more than } Enough. 
Finality. 

He did not mean that his life was over. 
He did not say it dejectedly with shoulders sagging, as if He lost. 
His exhalation was a victory chant, the rhythm of the redeemed. 
When He said, 

It is Finished

He also meant:
SIN is finished.
EVIL is finished. 
SLAVERY is finished. 
WALLS OF HOSTILITY are finished. 
CIRCUMCISION is finished. 
SACRIFICES are finished. 
FEAR OF DEATH is finished. 
TRYING TO APPEASE GOD is finished. 
KEEPING ALL THE RULES is finished. 

All of the things that were obstacles to eternal life or formulas to please Him were abolished. Everything that was, no longer is. When He did what He did that day, He opened to the door to the { more than } enough life. Gone are the days of keeping all the laws, living in fear of displeasing God, uncertainty about eternity. Gone are the days of striving. I am in Christ, the One who died once for all and spoke the words of freedom and finality: 

It is Finished. 

And hallelujah, that is more than enough.