you're so stupid!

i hate the word "stupid". hate it. can't stand for anyone to say it. 

i hate it when i hear it on television. i hate it when i hear it in movies. i hate it when i hear it in life.

stupid is a dangerous word. a sneaky word. a word that worms its way into your life and changes it.

changes you.

because the words we hear shape us. they make us into who we believe we are. they bring us life or they bring us death. encouraging words bring hope. criticizing words do not.

everything we say and everything we do either builds someone up or tears someone down. there is no in between.

and for me-stupid-has no in between. it always tears someone down.

it's a strange phenomenon that people remember the bad things people say about them more than they remember the good.

fat.

ugly.

stupid.

lazy.

worthless.

loser.

words that always cut. words that always damage. words that always shatter.

but from the time we're little we're led to believe that words can't hurt us.

"sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."

a nursery rhyme. an innocent song learned before we understood its meaning. an anthem of defense used while trying to survive the playground. 

but it's a lie.

because as we grow up we realize that words can hurt. words can damage. words can destroy.

when i was a teenager someone told me i was stupid.

and it stuck.

i never forgot it. i never forgot how it made me feel. i never forgot that i thought that's how others felt about me. and i never forgot how much it hurt.

it's crazy how one word, one comment can get played over and over again in our minds until we convince ourselves that it's true.

it took me years to get past that statement. to get to a point where i knew i wasn't stupid. to gain the confidence back that i lost in that one careless remark.

but to this day i still cringe when i hear the word. i can't stand for someone to say it-even in joking.

because to me it's not a joke.

a word like stupid sticks in someones head. a word like stupid tells someone that they're not good enough. a word like stupid makes people feel like they don't fit in.

and no one should feel like they're not good enough.

or don't fit in.

ever.

"the power of life and death is in the tongue." Proverbs 18:21

God knew we would need this reminder.

because our words are more powerful than we think and remembered more than we realize.

when we use our words they should always be words of life. and though it may seem like something so small...there's really no room for stupid in this world.

i don't want God to be a leftover in my life

so many of us have good intentions, especially when it comes to saving our leftovers. after a meal we pack up the extra food in containers and safely store it away in our refrigerator believing we will eat it before it goes bad.

some of us do it out of habit-we saw our parents doing it when we were growing up. some of us do it out of guilt-there are so many starving people in the world. some of us do it out of thrift-we hate to see good money go down the drain.

but most of us-if not all of us at times-let those leftovers spoil.

they sit and sit and sit, slowly getting pushed further and further to the back of the shelf, as we search around for different foods and more exciting choices.

that's not to say we don't take a bite here and there.

the mashed potatoes might get eaten up. the chicken might get finished. even the apple pie might have a chance. (let's be honest, the apple pie always has a chance!) but the lima beans, the peas, the leftover spinach?

not so much.

and as the days turn into weeks, if truth were told, our good intentions get ignored, get forgotten and get old...more often than they get remembered.

as i was throwing out my forgotten leftovers today it made me wonder if that isn't the same way some of us treat God.

if we go to Him out of habit.

if we say we put our trust in Him out of guilt.

if we slowly push Him further and further to the back of our lives sometimes forgetting that He's even there.

and i realized that God wants more than our leftovers...God wants to be the main course.

remember Thanksgiving? when the smell of turkey fills the air? when it comes out of the oven and someone starts carving it but you just can't wait, you have to sneak a piece or two because it smells so good? and after that first bite that's all you can think about. how good that turkey is. how much you can't wait to eat more.

suddenly for a few moments, the tv isn't as appealing as it once was. the magazine doesn't hold as much as excitement as it once did. and the internet...well, it will just have to wait. after all, this is turkey we're talking about!

God wants that excitement from us. He wants the desire that makes us not able to think about anything else. He wants us to be so excited about spending time with Him that we put everything else to the side. He wants us to crave spending time with Him just like we crave our deepest desire. He wants to be more than something we just push to the back of our lives ignored and forgotten.

i don't want God to be a leftover in my life. i dont' want to push Him to the side always looking for something different and exciting. i don't want Him -and the world- to think that something else can take His place.

because nothing, not even apple pie, can even come close.

don't count God out

his dream was to make the college baseball team. he felt like God had led him to this particular school. but he was a little smaller than the others. and the coach usually picked bigger boys.

sometimes coaches (and this world) define bigger as better. 

bigger as stronger, faster, more talent.

but coaches are human and the world rarely gets things right.

the boy was strong and fast and talented but it wasn't enough. he didn't make the team.

and so it seemed the boy was overlooked.

bypassed.

rejected.

it seemed as if he was through. it seemed as if the world had taken a look and counted him out.

but the boy breathed baseball. his heart beat for the love of the game. and more than baseball the boy  breathed God. and the God that he lived for wasn't phased at all by what it seemed in this world.

so his dream didn't die with the rejection.

his hope didn't die in the disappointment.

he worked harder. showed up to practices anyway.  the coach let him work out with the team. he caught balls in the bullpen. he helped take care of the field. if there was a need, he filled it.

he didn't get to play, but he got to be there.

and though it wasn't everything, it was something. and he was willing to take the something he could get.

towards the end of the season the coach couldn't ignore the boy's heart. he put him on the roster. gave him a uniform. let him go in for part of the game.

what should have never happened...happened...because the boy never gave up. he never let the world define who he was. he never stopped believing that God had a purpose for him being there. though he couldn't see it, he could feel it. and so he stayed.

the second season was more of the same. doing whatever it took. filling in where needed. getting to play a little. getting to sit on the bench a lot. and though his heart still beat for the love of the game, it was harder now. the doubts crept in. the wondering if he really was where he was supposed to be. though his teammates loved him, he struggled to feel like he was one of them. 

somehow he felt different. 

separated. 

unusual. 

but he was never meant to be one of them. he was never meant to feel like he fit in. 

he was born to be different. 

he was born to be unusual. 

he was born to be set apart from the crowd.

those who met him knew that. those who got to be a part of his life saw it.  felt it. lived it through him.

though baseball was his dream, God was his life. and though he struggled, he kept his heart focused on Him. 

and through that focus others saw Christ. others saw what it meant to live for Him. 

to believe in Him. 

to trust in Him.

he went on to a bigger college. played every game. broke school records. made amazing plays. despite being bypassed, rejected and overlooked, his dream of playing baseball still came true. 

because God had a bigger message. God had a bigger plan.

though he once had been counted out, the boy was exactly where he was supposed to be each step of the way. 

because it was never about the game. 

it was never about the talent. 

it was never about who was bigger or stronger or faster.

it was always about the truth. 

and the truth is the boy gave glory and honor to God even when his dreams weren't coming true.

despite what the world said, despite how it looked, the boy let his heart lead the way. 

and in doing so, he led others to believe in a God of the impossible. 

a God that could get them past rejection. 

a God that could overcome disappointment.

though the boy's heart will always beat for the love of baseball, his true destiny will always be to lead others to the love of Christ. 

because he knows...he's always known...that it's better than any game he'll ever play.

i've been in a funk

i've been in a funk now for the last couple of weeks and i've had a hard time shaking it. the words that usually flow easily aren't coming. the encouragement i usually can't wait to share seems lost.

this happens to me every now and then.

a funk, a slump, a hump to get over. and i hate it.

because it's not me. it's not who i am. but i let it become me anyway. i allow myself to grow tired of the fight.

i allow disappointment and sadness to have more say than it should. i allow a discouraging situation to take over my mood. the old familiar wall goes up. the stubborn guard stands ready at my heart. i retreat inside myself and promise that i'll never put myself in that position again.

the girl with the easy answers. the girl with the strong faith. the girl with the constant smile. everything pushed aside by months of disbelief. everything shut down from the realization that i wasn't good enough. again.

it's hard when what you've built up in your mind comes colliding with the reality of life. it stinks when satan takes that little crack in the door and blows it wide open exposing the weaknesses, mistakes and failures of everyone in the room.

it hurts when the one left most exposed is you.

so i hole up. i close down. i shut off. and in doing so i become a contradiction. a hypocrite. a fake. because i always say "if you talk the talk, you should walk the walk."

but talking and walking are sometimes worlds apart. and when you feel hurt, abandoned and betrayed, the walk is almost impossible.

almost. nearly. bordering on impossible. but not quite. because impossible thrives on oneness. impossible breeds on trying to go it alone. impossible does its best work when we convince ourselves there's no way out.

but i serve a God of the impossible. i serve a God who knows betrayal and abandonment and pain. and when the world says "impossible", God says, "watch this."

i started this post still stuck in the shadows of the funk. i was ready to complain. i was looking for sympathy.  i wanted someone to make it right. but i was trying to do it alone. i was letting God stand at the door, but i wasn't asking Him to come inside. 

so in the middle of my thoughts i forced myself to regroup. i challenged myself to let it go. i could stay in the mess or i could hand it over to Him. it was my decision. and i decided enough was enough.

i have a question i ask in hard situations. i ask myself if any of it would matter if the person who offended died tomorrow. and i've always, ALWAYS, said it wouldn't matter at all. because i don't remember bad stuff when people die. i only remember how much they meant to me while they were alive.

and if it won't matter to me in death, why in the world would i hold onto it in life?

i've been in a funk but it's gone now. because i finally decided to let it go. but more importantly, and what i sometimes forget, is i decided to give it to God. because a funk is not something ANYONE can do on their own.

i wonder if God hates mondays too

it's monday again. i can hear the groans already. before the day even starts people are loathing it, cursing it, wishing it would go away. i think it's crazy of course. to dislike 1/7th of your life. to have developed such a habit of hating a day, that you cringe when someone even mentions the name.

i wonder if God hates mondays too. if He gets so tired of hearing the complaining, whining and frustration that He dreads the day just like everyone else.

i wonder if on sunday night He starts to frown. if He starts moping around. if He wastes the moments in front of Him because He's so focused on what's coming tomorrow.

i wonder if He grumbles and gripes to anyone who will listen. i wonder if He rolls His eyes, stomps his feet, and makes His annoyance for the day obvious to everyone around Him.

i know He doesn't, but i wonder if He wants to sometimes. i wonder if He wishes that for once, just once, no one would complain about a day that hasn't even begun and instead is just excited to find out about the plans He has for them.

i wonder if He searches the whole earth for someone, anyone, who is just be glad to be alive. someone who will be happy that the sun came out. someone who will thank Him for another opportunity to make things right, another chance to touch a life, another possibility to start again.

i wonder if He gets tired of looking. if He wonders if it's worth it anymore. if He wishes He could start over.

i don't want God to search and not find someone thankful for mondays. i don't want God to grow tired of looking for someone who is glad to be alive. if He can't find it anywhere else, i want Him to find it in me.

i want to be someone He can count on to be happy regardless of what day it is. 

at the end of my life, if God said, "i'll give you one more day",and it was a monday, i'd take it...in a heartbeat. 

and i bet most everyone else would do the same.

let's celebrate mondays...today and everyday...happy monday!!!

when people are jerks

when people are jerks i'd like to tell them to take a flying leap.
off the nearest bridge.
into deep water.
that's freezing cold.
and filled with sharks.

when people are jerks i'd like to make them peel a hundred onions.
without taking a break.
or stopping to wipe their nose.
and then push them into a vat of tunafish.
that smells like it rotted last year.

when people are jerks i'd like to tell them to hold their breath.
until they're blue in the face.
and their neck muscles bulge out.
so they look uglier than they're already acting.

when people are jerks i'd like to kick them in the butt.
hard enough for them to fly across the room.
and crash into the wall.
and spill their large and sticky drink down the front of their shirts.

when people are jerks i'd like the world to stop.
and a hall monitor to whistle.
and write them a detention slip.
that puts them in time out.
for like a million years.

when people are jerks i wish the boogie man.
and bed bugs.
and Batman.
would keep them up at night.
boogie-ing them.
and making them itch.
and showing them who's boss.

when people are jerks i wish they'd trip over their feet.

and fall on their face.
and then try to get up.
only to have it happen over and over and over again.
for the entire rest of the month.

when people are jerks i wish they'd have someone treat them
exactly like they treat other people.
only a hundred times worse.
so they see how totally mean.
and nasty.
and terribly rude they really are.

but most of all.
when people are jerks.
i wish.
(i just really wish).
that they would just be nice.

----------------------------------

i just wrote this out of the blue when someone was rude to me today. it made me laugh and it made me feel better. my seven year old loves it. and loves me. and my thirteen year old just read it and told me he loves me too. and at the end of the day, that's all that matters. because love and laughter and family overcomes everything in life. even jerks.

happy tuesday!!!

colleen :)

p.s. i don't really wish these things on anyone. except the timeout one. for like a million years of course...

i think my son hates me

i saw your face when you walked away and it broke my heart.

i know you're disappointed. i know you're upset. i know you think it's not right. but it has to be this way.

in your mind, we're overreacting. you probably think we've forgotten what it's like to be your age. that we don't trust you. that nothing could go wrong. 

but this is a crazy world. one in which unimaginable things happen. one in which "it could never happen to me" just happened in our own family.

and so we overprotect. we keep you close. we put limits on your freedom. and now that you're thirteen you hate that.

because you think your friends can do what they want. and you think that everyone else is doing it. and you think that our rules are stupid, and crazy and not fair. 

i remember being like you when i was growing up. thinking there were too many restrictions. wondering why i had a father so unlike all the others. wondering why these parenting rules applied only in our house and rarely in the lives of anyone else i knew.

my dad would answer the phone when our friends would call us after 9pm (yes, really...9pm) and ask if they knew what time it was. when they answered yes, he would tell them, "good, then you know it's too late to be calling our house!" and he would hang up on my them. and i didn't get to call them back. until the next day. and it embarrassed me.

and when i would have someone come over for a sleepover my dad insisted on meeting the parents. he would rush out to the cars before they drove away and introduce himself. he didn't care that the other parent was fine without knowing who he was but he wasn't fine with it. and so out he would go. and embarrass me. again.

when he dropped me off for school each morning he would give me a kiss. just like when i was five and in kindergarten. it didn't phase him that now i was a teenager and too old for that. it didn't phase him that people might see me kissing my dad and make fun of me. it didn't even phase him that he would say "i love you" and expect me to say it back. nothing phased him. but it phased me. and more importantly, it embarrassed me.

on my first date  i had to provide make, color, and LICENSE PLATE NUMBER of the vehicle i was going in. "are you kidding," i asked my dad, "who does that?"  my dad did that. and so off i went. outside. before my date. to write down the information. i was sure he'd never ask me on a second date and my life would be over. and i thought i would die. because of everything he did, i think that embarrassed me the most.

growing up i thought my dad was way too strict. that he was way too old-fashioned. that he had no clue. but i was wrong. though i hated it then, i'm glad that my dad was the way he was. 

all those friends he hung up on are still my friends to this day. all those friends who slept over my house, loved my father and loved spending time there. my senior year, a friend who saw my dad drop me off for school everyday, told me she was jealous because she wished she had such a good relationship with her dad. 

and that first date, when i thought i would die of embarrassment? i married him. and he became your father.

i never knew that being a parent would be so hard. that i would have to make choices that you didn't like or agree with because i knew they were the right choices to make. and though you won't know for YEARS that everything i did was because i love you and want the best for your life, i hope for now you won't think i embarrass you too much.

because i'm not doing it on purpose. 

i promise.

an adopted baby's talk with God

years ago, my friends wanted a baby more than anything. and when they couldn't have one on their own they looked at adoption. 

i admired them because it wasn't easy. 

there were phone calls, forms, house studies, and questions. and just when they thought they met all the requirements, there were more forms and more questions and more paperwork to complete. 

the list was endless. the questions unreal. 

i remember thinking (as i wrote a letter of recommendation for them), how easy it was for some to have children and how incredibly hard it was for others. 

it didn't seem fair. 

or nice. 

or acceptable. 

and though more than twelve years have passed since that time, i've never forgotten the determination they had despite the struggles. no matter what was required of them, they refused to give up. they did whatever needed to be done. they did whatever was asked of them. 

because their hearts wouldn't let them do otherwise.

God gave me the words to a prayer of sorts to write for their son zachary when he came home from the hospital. his mom, my friend debra, wrote to me last week and asked me to share it now on my blog because it still means so much to her.

to be honest, the prayer was a part i had forgotten long ago. 

i think it's great how God works like that. taking something so simple - like a gift of words - and using it to offer help, to offer healing, and to offer hope- even when we don't know it's happening. 


so i share zachary's prayer today with all those parents who have adopted, and especially for all who are still trying to get there. i pray that you find peace in the words and the realization that God has not forgotten you. i admire your courage. i admire your determination. i admire your refusal to give up even when it seems like everything is stacked against you. 

God sees you. He hears your cries. He knows your heart. and He has a plan. 

-----------------------------

Zachary 's Prayer

"before i was born on earth, i had a talk with God.  

He told me that i would be a special baby, 
not for who i was, but for who i would be.  

He said, i was a 'custom order' of sorts, 
for i would be the answer to a parents prayer.  

He talked of two people who wanted a baby more than anything. 

and because they knew where babies truly came from, 
they made their request with Him.  

God heard their wish, looked closely at their hearts and made His decision.
they would have a child.

He worked on me for months, carefully examining each detail.  

i would be a unique individual, unlike any other.  

He took great care in His task, every move measured, every action planned.  

but like all children, there was to be a part of me that He would not complete. 

one part that He would leave untouched.  

God never finished my heart.  

He said that was your job.  

the most important part of my life, 

the part where i learn about love, compassion and mercy, 
He left up to you.  

His job was big.

yours is bigger.  

He told me before i left not to worry, 
because He has faith in you.  

and you know, i'm not worried. 

at all.

because He's already seen your hearts.

He already knew your love.

and it's truly because of them that I'm here today."

----------------------------

i believe God has ordained this very moment in time for you to gain strength in the journey. though the wait seems long, He knows it will be so very worth it when you get there. 

don't lose hope. don't lose faith. don't give up. 

and no matter the world tells you, remember this...the world is not our source...God is.

enjoy this monday friends, because this very day won't ever be back again...

poetry friday: learning to hate

i've never understood racism. i've never understood how two people don't like each other based on outward appearance. growing up in south florida i was surrounded by people who looked different than me. but i was lucky. the person who raised me never saw the difference. my father didn't see color. he didn't see nationality. he didn't see social standing. he just saw people. plain and simple. black and white. for him there were no gray areas. people were people. period. end of sentence. because he never treated anyone different, my sister and i never grew up thinking there was a separation between any of us. because he never thought twice about helping everyone, my sister and i never grew up thinking anyone was better than anyone else. we were the lucky ones. because our father saw the value in everyone and he instilled that way of living and thinking into our lives and into our hearts.

i wrote this poem shortly after high school because i realized early that everyone wasn't taught to believe like we did. not everyone was taught that skin color and nationality and social standing didn't matter. parents actually-with their words and actions-taught their children to hate. and i hated it. i hated-and still hate-everything about it.

though the words are decades old, the message still rings true to me. i hope you feel the same.

------------------------------

same window, different view

i've never felt so lonely, so frightened and so sad,

until the day i opened up the paper that i had.

the front page read, "it's useless, we're not trying anymore",

the second said, "forget it, we will never win the war".

i didn't understand at first, until i read each line,

and then i knew, without a doubt, that we were out of time.

the world as we knew it, would never be the same,

people and their troubles, found someone else to blame.

no one says, "i'm sorry" for their pride gets in the way,

no one stops to realize the price that will be paid.

for we ourselves won't suffer when the fighting has begun,

it's our children who will live with all the things that we have done.

the hate that runs right through us, will never find an end,

when we'd rather have an enemy, than try to make a friend.

two people who may look alike, are not the same inside,

it's a fact that everyone should know, sometimes we just don't try.

the world would be a better place, if everybody knew,

i'm not like you, you're not like me, same window...different view.

-------------------------

i pray that i always remember not to look at someone's appearance, but to stay focused on their heart...

my mom died today

      part of her never wonders

        just as part of her never forgets

        the last image in a six year old's mind

        of a mother she never got to know

        25 years later

        as her own life approaches the last 

        of her mother's days

        she remembers the little things

        and mentally prepares to die.

        after all...one doesn't outlive their mother do they?

   

        (taken from my journal - written a few years before i turned 37)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

may 2, 1975 at 2:30 in the morning, my mom took her last breath. thirty-six years ago today, at the age of 37, in a one bedroom apartment in lantana, florida, patricia ann foley laquay died in her sleep. i was six years old. my sister was seven.

i didn't understand at the time what death was of course. to me death meant someone would be gone for awhile but they'd be back. at six years old i didn't understand never. i didn't know that i'd never see her again. i didn't know death was final.

i didn't know my life was forever altered. that i would miss her. that i would grow up wondering about her. that i would live with questions about her that would never be answered.  

i didn't know that her dying at 37 would mean that i'd struggle one day to want children of my own. that i wouldn't be able to promise anyone "i'll always be here for you", when i knew first hand it was a promise you can't always keep.

i didn't know that i would hate when my friend's fought with their moms. that i would think they were crazy to take for granted the luxury of having a mother. that i would shake my head and think it wasn't fair that they had a mom and i didn't.

 

i didn't know that i wouldn't have anyone to show me about the girl things in life. that i would have to tell my dad the first time i got my period. that i would never be able to sign my mom up to be class mom or help with girl scouts.

i didn't know that i would fear turning 37 myself. that i would wonder if i was going to die too. that i would have a tremendous amount of guilt for outliving my mother.

the day my mom died i didn't know then that i'd spend my whole life without a mother. that i'd never look at the world the same as everyone else. that i'd spend years pretending it didn't matter.

at six years old there were a lot of things i didn't know. there were a lot of things i wasn't ready for. but somehow, amidst the fear, and the guilt, and the struggling,  i still grew up. i still lived past 37. i still survived.

though i never really knew my mom, she was one of the greatest teacher's i've ever had. her death at such a young age taught me -at such a young age- that life is fragile,  and short, and temporary. it taught me to not take people for granted. to say what you feel. to not be embarrassed to hug or to cry or to love. 

her death taught me that life is short and that people are important. her death taught me that we all have inside of us more strength than we think. her death taught me that God is real.

thirty six years ago today my mom died and my life was forever changed. i'll always miss her. i'll always wish i had a chance to know her. i'll always wish she hadn't died. but i'll never regret who i became because of her. 

there's a part of my mom that lives on inside of me. a part of her that still teaches me about life. a part of her, that though i never knew it and though i never knew her, was really a part of that six year old girl all along.

poetry friday: ~~Jesus saves~~

i've decided that today would be a great day to share a poem i wrote more than 20 years ago. it seems the message is as important today as it was back then.

i've always loved writing poems. from the time i was a young girl, the sound of words-especially rhyming words, has been music to my ears. i consider it a gift, of course, to be able to write things that touch people. to be able to write things that mean something to someone. i never think it's me. i never assume that i've created this talent on my own. i know, i've always known, that my writing is an incredible gift from God. and knowing that makes it a huge responsibility. one that i don't take lightly. one that i don't want to waste. i pray that in everything i write that i always use my gift in a way that gives glory to Him.

the poem is called "Jesus saves" because He did. and He does. He saved me from this world. He saved me from myself. He saved me when no one else could. and if you need saving, He's willing to save you too.

so here it is, my 20 year old poem. i hope you like it.

Jesus saves

"you're stupid," he mocked through a heart of stone.

"i know," my mind replied.

"you're wrong!", he yelled at me again,

i guess i just don't try.

"you're fat. you're ugly. you've failed again",

these thoughts won't go away.

the dark sets in, my heart is crushed,

i can't live another day.

"but i love you," a voice calls from above,

"who me?", i asked the man.

"yes you," He said, "without a doubt,

you see, I understand.

just how it feels to think this world

doesn't have a place for you.

and how it feels when others fault

most everything you do.

I've been there...I know your pain,

but I can make it turn around,

into a love you've never known,

it's just waiting to be found."

"but i'm not good enough," i said through tears,

and i'm a sinner, through and through.

"I know," He said, and stretched out His arms,

but my heart has room for you."

if you have a poem you'd like me to share on my blog, send it to me at colleen-1969@hotmail.com. i'd love to hear from you!!!

1440 minutes a day

1440. that's how many minutes are in each day. that's how many there were yesterday. and the day before. and the day before that. 

1440.

that's over a thousand opportunities to make a difference. over a thousand chances to make someone smile. over a thousand moments to touch someones life.

seems overwhelming really. and unrealistic, of course. to think that we would spend all of our time today on other people. to think that we would look for ways to help others without first helping ourselves.  

after all we've got a lot to do in one day. and by the time we get done doing everything we need to do for us, there's usually nothing left for anyone else. and even worse, there's usually nothing left for God.

oh, we could throw in a couple of prayers here and there. maybe a quick thank you. a hurried hello. but there's just not enough time in the day. we reason with ourselves that He understands. He knows our heart. He knows our intentions. He knows if we had an extra minute we'd be spending it with Him.

but would we?

1440 minutes and we barely have a moment to spare?

we cram so much stuff into one day that it becomes habit to push Him to the bottom of our list. and our daily habit eventually becomes a daily way of life. before we know it, we start to feel far away from Him. we can't feel His presence. we strain to hear His voice. and when we can't hear His voice, we don't know what direction He needs us to go. 

there are things He needs us to do but we can't hear Him above the chaos we've created around us. we exhaust ourselves to the point that we have no energy to do anymore or anything for anyone or anybody. the world becomes all about us. 

and when it's all about us we miss those thousand opportunities to make a difference. to make someone smile. to touch someone's life. 

imagine at the start of each day, someone knocks on our door and hands us a gift. inside it are the 1440 minutes of the day at hand. we can do anything we want with them. from experience we know that these minutes will disappear quickly. and there's not a promise attached that we'll get to use all of them. 

we have to act fast. we have to remain focused. we have to take those minutes and spend them the best way possible. we have to remember that these exact minutes, these exact moments will never pass our way again. 

knock knock. 

God has just given us 1440 moments of a lifetime.

how will you spend yours today?

i want to live as if Jesus' death means something to me

i want to live my life as if Jesus dying on the Cross means something to me. i don't want it to be obvious only at Church. or only on Easter. or just at Christmas. i want it to be an everyday love affair. i want to wake up thanking Him, go to bed thanking Him, and spend every moment in between trying to bring Him glory.

i want more than a casual relationship, i want Him to be my best friend. i want Him to know my voice. i want to know His. i want to be like David-someone "after God's own heart."

i want to remember His sacrifice. remember His suffering. remember His willingness to take the place for my sins. 

i want to remember how He was betrayed. how He was ridiculed. how He was mocked. and realize that He did it for me, so that i wouldn't have to pay the price. because i could never pay it. He knew that. and He did what He had to do-what only He could do-so that i might have eternal life.

i don't want that realization to get lost on me. i don't want to take it for granted. i don't want to live my life arrogantly and selfishly, as if i can do anything i want and get away with it.

but i often get sidetracked. i often have setbacks. no matter how much i want to be with Him, i find other things that take up my time. other things that become my priority. no matter how much i want to live for Him, i still find other things i want to live for. other things that become my focus.

i am surrounded by temptations. i am surrounded by the desires of this world. so often i take two steps forward and then jump three steps back. my mind wanders. my thoughts drift. my words contradict.

and in my actions i become the betrayer. the one who ridicules. the one who mocks. suddenly it is me who nailed Jesus to the Cross. who couldn't stay awake in the garden. who sells Him so easily for 30 pieces of silver. 

i don't want to get lost. i don't want to take Him for granted. i don't want to be arrogant and selfish. but i do. and i have. and i am.

and yet despite it all...despite myself...the fact remains...Jesus died for me. He took the suffering, He took the abuse, He took the shame...because He loved me. even before this world ever knew me, He knew me.  and He loved me, and  He loves me, with an everlasting love.

i don't want to live my life as if Jesus dying on the Cross means nothing to me. i don't want to live as if i'm not aware of the sacrifice. that i'm not aware of the suffering. i want my actions to live up to my heart. i want to live my life in a way that boldly declares that His death up on that Cross means everything to me.

because it should. and it has. and it does.

in honor of mondays

in honor of mondays, my favorite day of the week, i wanted to share something i wrote a couple of years ago and hope it inspires you to live today and everyday as if your life will make a difference. because whether you think so or not, your life does make a difference. everything you say and everything you do makes a difference to someone. good or bad, small or big...your actions change the world. 

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true success

true success is not measured by first place, or awards given, or records achieved. true success is not measured in victorious moments with the world applauding your efforts and trophies being handed your way. 

true success is not even counted as the world counts it-with flags waving and fireworks and long speeches about the worthiness of your efforts. 

alas, true success is not always the big moments wrapped in fancy paper with the good bow on top. no, true success often comes unwrapped and unnoticed, hidden away in the corners of our lives-forgotten really, brushed aside as being too simple, too little, too unnoteworthy to write down in the pages of our minds. 

but at the end of the day and more importantly, at the end of a life, it's not the trophies or the awards or the applause that mean anything to anyone. it's the actions of a person. the hand held, the shoulder offered, the true and genuine concern about another human that leave the lasting impression.

people will forget how many times you came in first place. people will forget the games won and lost, the points scored, the errors made. but people will never forget how you treated them and people will never forget how you made them feel.

true success will never be the success that is headlined in the media or given the front row seat. true success, lasting success is rarely noticed by this world. but the moments that matter, the moments that make a difference, the moments that really count, don't need to be noticed or headlined or given special treatment. true success, the kind that lasts a lifetime, doesn't have to be seen by the eyes. that kind of success has to only be felt by the heart. 

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happy monday...let's choose to make it the best one ever!!!

walking away from God

i've walked away from God before. told Him i was done. told Him to leave me alone. i asked Him to go stand on the other side of the room. to not look my way. that when and if i was ready to talk to Him again, i'd let Him know. it was a bold moment for me. to look in the face of my Creator and let Him see my anger. my sadness. my disappointment. i had come to a moment when i thought my faith couldn't save me. when everything i ever believed was questioned and shaken and destroyed.

one of my best friends had killed herself. she had taken a gun and shot herself. in the head. in the front seat of her father's car. while he was inside the store buying drinks for them, she decided to end it all. in some strange parking lot, all by herself, my friend's life ended. and from that moment on, mine was never the same.

when they called with the news i didn't believe it. it's impossible to believe such a thing about someone you love. someone you've prayed with. someone you've shared your passion for Christ with. you can't possibly believe something like this. you can't wrap your mind around something that makes no sense. you can't allow yourself to think that such a tragedy could touch someone you know. someone you're close to. someone you believed you'd be friends with forever. but the story was true. the rumors were real. she was gone. she had left. and somehow i was still here.

it shouldn't have been her. it couldn't have been her. she was the one who always showed up first for babies being born, and people needing help. she was the one who sent cards "just because" and brought food for people in pain. she was the source that everyone came to, the one that everyone knew they could count on. she made sure people knew that they mattered, that they were loved, that they were taken care of. and yet it wasn't enough. she gave everything she had to this life and yet this life took the very life out of her.

i blamed God for it. i blamed Him for her death. i never came right out and said it, but He knew. i wondered where He was while she sat in that car. i wondered where He was when she found that gun. and i wondered where He was when she pulled that trigger. she had spent her life believing in Him and in her darkest moment it wasn't enough. and if it wasn't enough for her, i wondered how it would ever be enough for me.

and so i walked away from God. i was so grieved at heart that i couldn't focus. i couldn't breathe. i couldn't see past the pain. i cried a million tears and yet they still kept falling. i talked to God from a distance like a friend who had betrayed me. i was suddenly the girl who had lived her life telling others about her faith and now i was questioning if it was even real.

i'd always been the one to tell others to be ready. to get the Word of God down so deep inside you that when the world tries to get you down it wouldn't stand a chance. i'd always say you can't start flipping through your Bible in the middle of a storm. there's no time to find the hope you need when you're in the middle of the fire. by then it's too late. you have to have it. you have to know it. and even though i turned my back on God, His Word was still alive. His promises were still real. His life still breathed in me even when i couldn't breathe on my own. in the middle of the worst fire of my life, His Word found me. it sheltered me. it saved me.

"the joy of the Lord is your strength". that's the scripture that saved me from myself. i kept hearing it over and over in the days following her death. despite the tears and the sadness and the pain. despite the fact that i tried to walk away. despite everything in me that said i was done with God, i still heard His voice. and because i heard His voice, i knew He still heard mine. and somehow just knowing that He heard me helped me. because i knew He was listening. and that He cared. and that He loved me despite it all.

though almost two years have passed, i still struggle with my friend's death. i still cry when i think of her. i still wish she was here. i still have more questions than answers. more sadness than peace. but i never stop talking about her. i never stop telling people about her. and i never stop loving her. and though nothing about it makes sense, this one thing i do know...even when we choose to walk away from God, He never...ever...walks away from us.

i'll never be oprah

for years i wanted to be oprah winfrey. well, not really her, but just like her. i love that she brings people together. she reunites families. she makes people feel good about themselves. i love that she makes people believe in dreaming big dreams. with her it seems like nothing is impossible. barriers are crossed. walls come down. people listen. for years i would dream of us meeting. of us becoming friends. of us saving the world. and then God woke me up. because i was dreaming of something that was more about me than it was about Him.

it wasn't a slow waking up either. it was a quick, water splashed in my face moment. i even wrote it down so that i wouldn't ever forget. "God doesn't need you to be oprah. that's what He made her for. He needs you to be you. that's what He made you for." 

"God needs you to be you." what a revelation. to think that God created me to be me. that He created me to dream my own dreams. to make my own path. that He doesn't expect or want me to be like someone else. that He put inside of me my own gifts. that He gave me my own voice.

but sometimes that seems overwhelming. and hard. and scary. and i'm not a big fan of overwhelming. or hard. or scary. it's so much easier to just follow in someone's footsteps. to take the path well traveled. to take the road everyone else is taking. 

because following a path is easy. but forging a path means work. forging means a lot of clearing out. a lot of rocks to move. a lot of weeds to pull. and i don't mind work but i like to know the outcome. i like to know what the results of my efforts will be. 

the truth is i like to know where i'm going. i like to have a map. heck, i like to hold the map! i'm the one who likes to have a plan. to look up ahead. to see what i'm doing. and God knows that about me. He knows i like to know the rules of a game before i play. and because He knows that about me He forces me to step out of my comfort zone. on purpose. to get me to grow. to get me to stretch my faith. to get me to trust Him.

i'm not always happy about this stretching of faith. i'm not always thrilled to be growing. i'm not always comfortable not getting to hold the map. but the moments when i let go and allow myself to be happy and thrilled and comfortable with where God has put me always seem to be the best moments of my life.

though i used to wish i was just like oprah, i've realized i'll never be her. and that's a good thing. God needs oprah to do her own stretching. so now i'm keeping my eyes on Him. and i'm letting go of the map. and i'm letting Him stretch me into who He needs me to be. because God needs me to be me...and only me...for Him.

finding forgiveness

i think i was born without it. the gene that makes you hold onto anger and resentment. not that i don't get angry because i do. but it never stays. no matter what someone does to me, i can't hold onto being mad. i can't hold onto the pain. i call it my "15 minutes of madness" because that's all it seems to last. i never wake up the next day angry. a little sad maybe, but never angry.

i think it's my dad's fault. when my sister and i were growing up he would tell us we couldn't go to bed mad. he would remind us that the Bible said to "not let the sun go down on your wrath." and so i've never gone to bed angry. ever. sometimes i've joked that "i guess i won't be going to bed tonight" but i've always forgiven before i closed my eyes.

i think it's my mom's fault too. she died when i was six. she was 37 and she died in her sleep. something like that will change you for the rest of your life. i knew then that tomorrow wasn't promised. that there are no guarantees you'll see someone again. and i always think of that when i'm mad. that the very person i'm mad at i may never see again. and i ask myself if it's worth it. if what happened would be worth spending the rest of my life regretting the anger after they were gone. and it never is.

i've told my boys that too. i've tried to teach them to not get so caught up in the little things that they miss the bigger picture. people will make us mad. people will hurt our feelings. people will betray us. but the same it true for us. we will make people mad. we will hurt others. we will betray. we're all human. we all make mistakes. we all need forgiveness. and if we want people to forgive us we should be willing to do the same.

that's why i love The Lord's Prayer. it was the first prayer i ever learned. recently it made me stop in my tracks. it was like i finally heard it for what it was. "and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." the key word is "as".  forgive me my trespasses as i forgive others. dear God, please forgive me my mistakes in the same way i'm willing to forgive others who make mistakes towards me. WOW. seriously? to be bold enough to ask God to use our way of forgiving others as a measuring tool to use in our life? that's some serious stuff.

but forgiveness is serious. and hard. and sometimes we think impossible. but i serve a God of the impossible. somehow when i give Him my worries, when i give Him my concerns, when i give Him my pain, He gives me something better. He gives me peace. i can't explain it. it doesn't make sense. it's not even logical. but it's true. 

i'm only missing the anger gene because i've found the one who made each part of me. and when i'm hurt, i ask Him to help. because He can. and He will. and He does. Jesus, in excruciating pain up on the Cross, asked God to forgive those who had meant Him harm. He's never asked us to do what He hasn't already done. He's forgiven the unforgivable. and He's forgiven me. i find forgiveness in Him. and i pray that i always do.

when God whispers

i don't always listen when God whispers. i don't always pay attention to that still small voice that gently urges me in a certain direction. sometimes i don't do it because i'm too busy. or too distracted. or too scared to look foolish. but sometimes i do listen. sometimes, despite my busyness and distractions and fear, i just go and do what God has urged me to do. and as i head off in blind obedience knowing i may never understand why i'm doing it, there's no doubt in my mind that He always does.

it happened to me today. a whisper. a leading. a still small voice telling me to go to a certain place. i didn't know why of course, but at the last second i turned and headed in the opposite direction of my destination. nothing big happened. no obvious reason for my detour. i saw a few friends. gave a few hugs. shared a few laughs and called it a day. mission-although invisible-accomplished.

as i was leaving i saw her. crying amidst the flashing lights and the damaged cars. though people were everywhere she seemed alone. scared. distraught. in the brief moment i saw her i knew. i knew why God had me make the turn. it was for her. it was for this. it was to let her know that in her scariest moment, God was right by her side.

everything in me knew i had to pull over. i've known her since she was little. a bright light inside a beautiful girl. she saw me and broke down. the details of the accident spilled out among the deployed air bags and scattered belongings. the car nose sat wedged in the embankment, broken but safe. and so was she. heartbroken but safe. 

and that's all that mattered. 

cars can be replaced. people can't. and though questions loomed about the loss, praises were given to Him for her life. 

hours later i saw her Facebook status..."He will cover you with His wings; you will be safe in His care; His faithfulness will protect and defend you"...and i smiled. because she got it. she understood. she knew who she belonged to. she knew who saved her.

i got it too. i understood. i know who i belong to. i know who has saved me. and though i don't always listen when He whispers, i thank Him for those moments when i finally do.

i'm the weird one

i'm often the weird one in a crowd. the one who sees things a little different. i don't try to be that person. i don't try to be the one that doesn't fit in. but the truth is i don't fit in. i always feel different. i always feel like the one who's standing on the outside.

i'm ok with that now. i didn't use to be. i always longed to be the popular one. the pretty one. the one who everyone wanted to know and everyone wanted to be. and i would say or do whatever i had to do to reach that goal. but i had no peace. i had no direction. truly, i had no life because i never enjoyed it. all that time spent trying to be just like everyone else left me wishing i could find out who i was really meant to be.

 

and then one day i realized i wanted to be different. i wanted to be set apart from the crowd. though it went against everything i had ever wanted, somehow i wanted this more. because the heart that God gave me wouldn't let me settle on being a photocopied version of the person next to me. i couldn't just sit on the sidelines anymore. i couldn't just let good enough for someone else be good enough for me. i wanted more. i expected more. i needed more.

and in needing more i knew i needed God more. i needed more than just a quick prayer in the morning and a tired kneeling before bed at the end of the day. i desired a life that was what everything God needed from me and then some. i wanted to be bold. i wanted to stand out. i wanted to live my life for Him.

 

but it's not easy. sometimes the part of me that just wants to fit in wins out over the one that desires to be set apart from the world. because being set apart means some people will laugh. being set apart means some people will keep their distance. being set apart means some people will think i'm weird. and the people-pleaser in me hates that part and i go back to my old ways. but i keep trying. i keep picking myself back up when i fall. and i keep believing that God will use my life despite myself.

i love that about God. that He uses people despite themselves. the Bible is full of people who failed terribly and yet God used their lives for a great purpose.

though i'm often the weird one in the crowd i try to make peace with it. because i asked for it. i wanted it. i needed it. and more importantly, God asked for it, and wanted it and needed it from me. normal is overrated anyway. and dull. and boring. i don't want to be normal. i want to be different. i want to be set apart. look at me. i'm the weird one. and i'm ok with that.

i love mondays

people think i'm crazy. they've said so. right to my face. they've laughed. they've rolled their eyes. they've ignored and criticized and complained. they don't want to hear it and yet i say it anyways. i love mondays. 

crazy concept i know. to love a day that so many hate. to embrace the very thing that symbolizes a loss of freedom to so many. but i don't consider it a loss. i don't look at it from a jaded point of view. i see mondays as a gift. a reminder of all that we can be. to me monday is another chance to make it all right. another chance to step out into the dreams we've dreamed for too long. monday means opportunities and fresh starts and new horizons. monday means new beginnings and blank slates where we get to write out the story of our day, of our week, of our life.

though it sounds foreign to some, i made a choice long ago. i choose to find the good...in every moment...in every situation...in every person.

not always easy of course. or immediate. or even voluntary at times. but i've developed such a habit of searching for the silver lining that i force myself to find it. sometimes grudgingly. sometimes through clenched teeth. sometimes screaming the whole way. but i find it...because i choose to.

one of the greatest stories i ever read was about Joseph in the Bible. betrayed by his brothers. sold into slavery. falsely accused. falsely imprisoned. and YET the Bible says, what satan meant for evil, God was able to use for good.

that story, that concept changed me. God used the very worst moments in Joseph's life and used them to bring about incredible blessings. through every trial, through every problem, even when it looked like everyone was against him, Joseph just kept his eyes on God. he didn't worry, he didn't complain, he didn't give up. he just kept choosing to honor God. and when it looked the worst, God showed His best.  

and i know that if God would do that for Joseph, He'd do it for me. not because i deserve it. not because i'm special. not because i earned it. but because God promised what He has done for one, He will do for all. and when i gave my life to Christ, i became one of the all He was talking about. 

and so i try to overlook the bad and look for the good. i tend to ignore the clouds and look for silver linings. i take something that the world considers bad-like mondays-and turn it into something good. on purpose. because it's my choice. and because quite simply, it's a day that God has made.

people call me crazy but i love mondays. what's stopping you from loving them too?

hApPY mONdaY!!!