Living in the Wilderness: Starving for Nuance on the Abortion Debate


Does anyone else believe that the subject of abortion is more nuanced than the broad generalizations that shout, you’re either a murderer or you hate women? Is anyone else tired of the name-calling, the black and white thinking, the social media posts and memes with the sole purpose of shaming, stoking the fire, throwing bigger stones? It appears that gracious, respectful, and honoring dialogue is rare these days, and I’m exhausted as I observe the battles on social media. I am starving for context and nuance in this discussion and yet terrified to start the conversation myself. I don’t have answers. I don’t stand firm in one camp and shoot arrows at the other. I don’t believe half the country are misogynists and the other half are baby killers. I’m afraid to write about my thoughts on this issue. I’m afraid because I don’t cling to one side or the other with an army of supporters to back me up in case of an attack. I’m afraid that no matter what I write, 50% of my friends and family will immediately see me as the enemy regardless of who they know me to be or what they’ve come to know of my heart. I’m afraid, and YET, I have a desire to bring a conversation forward that is void of hate and name-calling. Will you help me? Do you believe we can be respectful, vulnerable, brave, smart, and kind in our exchanges, giving grace to those we disagree with? Are we up for the challenge of leading with kindness? Please join me as I try!  We will do our best and ask the Lord to take care of the rest.

As I wrestle with this complex issue, please stick with me. Please understand that I’m a person seeking love and grace…to give it freely and receive it fully. Please know that I do not claim to be right or to know right or to live right. If I miss a perspective in this post, forgive me and please share your heart, your desires, your perceptions. I want to hear from you. I want to learn from you. I’m doing the best I can to listen to all viewpoints while building bridges between us versus burning them down. I’m doing my best to see both sides from a place of love and grace, so that I can embrace people regardless of our different postures and points of view. I have no desire to plant my feet in cement and scream at the crowd across from me for the rest of my life. There are many amazing, loving, smart, kind, giving people on all sides of this controversy, and I am broken as I watch us throw stones at each other from our glass houses. I don’t want to choose sides on every debate, but I do want to love all people well.

I have never seen good come out of vitriolic rhetoric, healing from hate, salvation from fear, grace from judgement. I truly believe humbly loving and serving one another is the path to restoration, love and healing, healthy community. As a fan of Jesus, I believe love is the path through confusion and darkness…the weapon that defeats the grip of hate. I believe in the redeeming power of love and I feel myself collapsing under the weight of cruel assumptions, bitter accusations, vicious words without an iota of loving consideration. I feel this burden regardless of the side serving the venom.  

My Reaction to the Pro-Choice Rhetoric:

When I hear or read pro-choice advocates claiming that pro-life/anti-abortion supporters don’t care about women’s rights, I wince. I struggle with the idea that someone attempting to protect what they believe is a vulnerable and voiceless human being is equivalent to not caring about women or women’s bodies. Caring about the outcome of a babies life and caring about women’s rights are not binary choices. We can and should care about both. If we see abuse of a newborn, we report it. We report it to protect the baby. We report abuse even with the understanding that the mom may lose her rights to parent that child. This does not make the reporter of suspected abuse hateful or sexist. If I’m someone who believes that the entity within a woman’s womb is a human life, then naturally, as another loving human being, I feel the need to protect that life. If I believe there is a body….a somebody inside a woman’s womb, then doesn’t it make sense that I should care to protect them both? That I shouldn’t weigh one’s worth over the other? That I should support them equally in their right to life? That I would choose to fight for both of them to live regardless of their age? If I believe personhood begins in the womb, then isn’t it imperative that I act as a voice for the voiceless and defend the defenseless, not because I don’t believe in a woman’s autonomy, but because I believe in protecting the unprotected?

It makes sense to me that people who believe a fetus is a life would advocate for birth and fight against abortion. They literally believe they’re saving lives, and in that case, “her body, her choice” doesn’t apply, because they believe there’s more than one body being discussed, and that one choice affects the lives of 2 people. With that being said, of course we can and should have the difficult and nuanced discussion around when the fetus becomes a life requiring protection. This is one of many questions that will have different answers, but different doesn’t mean that those on one side are appalling and those on the other have it all figured out.

My Reaction to the Pro-life Rhetoric:

When I hear or read pro-life/anti-abortion advocates calling pro-choice supporters murderers and baby killers, I cringe. I struggle with the idea that someone attempting to protect women’s rights and privacy due to their belief that the embryo or fetus is not a human being, is equivalent to hating or wanting to kill babies. I disavow the assumptions I see in reality-distorting memes suggesting that there are lots of women waiting until their 3rd trimester to abort a perfectly healthy baby. With abortion being more accessible in the first few weeks of pregnancy, and women understanding the pain, the fatigue, the erratic hormone shifts, the difficult and irreversible changes that happen to her body throughout pregnancy, I reject the notion that there are numerous women enduring all of that while they weigh the decision for 6+ months. I find these presumptions hurtful and harmful, not just to having a productive conversation, but to those dear women who have had to make impossible decisions late in their pregnancy, in the midst of the worst times of their lives. There are many men and women who love children and have, or plan to have children, who also support a woman’s right to choose because they do not believe that the embryo or fetus is a person. It seems clear to me that there aren’t millions of people who desire to execute babies, but rather millions of people who support a woman’s right to choose whether or not she will carry a group of tissue and cells inside her womb to the point of personhood. There are women who are healthy with a healthy embryo who choose to abort for a whole host of reasons (age, financial, mental health, physical environment, timing, hopes, fears, etc.) that are personal to them and their circle of support. There are reasons for abortion that I don’t understand or agree with, however if someone believes the potentiality for life is NOT equivalent to life, then naturally it follows that they would  believe they have the right to choose what to do with the entity inside their own body. It is also important to remember that this issue covers more complex scenarios. There are women who opt for a therapeutic abortion because their baby is not viable for life outside the womb. There are women who opt for abortion due to the irreparable damage of being raped or surviving incest. There are women who opt for abortion because their life is at risk. Regardless of the reason, again, it comes back to the nuanced discussion of when we believe the fetus becomes a person. If I believe the fetus is not an individual until a certain point in the pregnancy, then it makes sense for me to believe that a woman has the right to choose whether or not she will carry the embryo or fetus up until that point.

It is rarely appropriate OR helpful to paint with broad strokes, especially when discussing such a complex topic. There are so many women grieving the unthinkable loss of their baby who are retraumatized by the lack of grace and understanding that explodes onto social media every time there’s a hot button court case. It breaks my heart that so many women are thrust back into pain and shame without a chance to tell their story…without anyone even stopping to ask what their story is.

This dispute has always felt very grey to me, but I have always considered myself pro-life, with exceptions of rape, incest, and the mother’s life being at risk. However, when I was pregnant with my first-born, my eyes were opened to just how personal and murky this debate really is. My brother died in a tragic accident when I was 11 weeks pregnant with my son Isaac. The night before my 12 week prenatal appointment I was suffering from extreme anxiety and panic, as I feared there would be something horribly wrong with my baby, and I knew I could NOT survive another loss. My entire family gathered around my parent’s kitchen table and prayed for me and the life growing inside. After that terrifying appointment, I began to imagine what it would be like to be told that my baby wasn’t viable for life outside the womb, or that he didn’t have a heartbeat, or any number of horrible announcements from a doctor that change the trajectory of a pregnancy…change the trajectory of all the lives involved. Around this time, I received a prayer request for a woman who knowingly and courageously was giving birth to her stillborn baby. It was in that EXACT moment (reading this gut-wrenching prayer request) that I knew I could never live through laboring and delivering my dead son or expose my family to such trauma as we were still reeling with grief over the unexpected loss of my brother. I would never have recovered from this fate. If I had faced that horrible reality, I would have chosen a therapeutic abortion, as I truly believe that I couldn’t have endured the alternative at that time in my life. I would have opted for an abortion and I would have been thankful that it was an option. Contrary to many of the memes and hurtful mud-slinging I hear and see, I don’t believe that decision would’ve made me Godless, faithless, heartless, or a murderer. I believe most of us make decisions based on advanced medicine/science and the intimate knowledge of our own capacity to live with our choices, and doing so we can still walk faithfully with God through it all. It was this experience that gave me a more nuanced perspective than I had ever had before. It made me realize how our experiences so often drive what we’re willing to fight for and that maybe sharing our stories with each other could narrow the divide.

Rather than spreading hate from both sides, I truly believe we could introduce love to one another by taking the time to have a conversation and listen…really listen. Listen to the woman who has lived through rape. Listen to the woman who had an abortion and now wishes she had made another choice. Listen to the woman who labored and delivered her lifeless baby. Listen to the young girl who survived incest and is now carrying her father’s child. Listen to the woman who cannot have children and couldn’t fathom ever choosing not to. Listen to the family that lost their mom, their wife, their daughter, sister, aunt during childbirth. Listen to the mom who struggles to feed her 3 kids and now must make the hardest decision of her life. Listen to the woman who was harassed at Planned Parenthood when she went in for a therapeutic abortion because her very much wanted and loved baby was not viable for life outside the womb. Listen to the woman who chose to be a teenage mom. Listen to the woman who had the abortion when she was 14 and has no regrets. Listen to the couple living through IVF. Listen to the family that loves a child with disabilities. Listen to the fostered child. Listen to the adult who seeks therapy from the trauma of foster care. Listen to the adult who praises the blessings gained from foster care. Listen to the stories of miracles and the stories of loss, the stories of regret and the stories of gratitude. I can only imagine the countless ways this issue affects women and families and I can only imagine the overwhelm that comes with each decision. And, because I can only imagine, I’m thankful for those who have shared their stories with me. I believe it is these conversations that have landed me in a place where I no longer make assumptions about the kind of person you are or the heart that you have based on where you land on this issue.

Where I “Think” I Land

I believe all life has value and should be protected, but I will openly admit that I don’t know where I land on the timeline of a fetus becoming a life. I believe a woman’s body must be treated with honor and respect and if that is violated, she should have the right to proceed in whatever way is necessary to heal rather than perpetuate that trauma. I have always considered myself pro-life AND I believe that a woman should be able to receive a therapeutic abortion if she has been raped, the baby isn’t viable for life, or the mom’s life is at risk. I have always considered myself pro-life AND making abortion illegal concerns me because I don’t want women pursuing life-threatening options or ending up in jail for seeking an abortion as that defeats the entire purpose of advocating for life and family. I believe all life has worth and should be treated with love and respect  including those who disagree with me and/or those who’ve made choices I “think” I wouldn’t make. But, the truth is we have no idea what choice we would make until we’re in those shoes, breathing that air, crying those tears, screaming those prayers. I am thankful I never had to make that choice, but I do not stand in judgment of women who have.

What wakes me in the middle of the night is the thought that some people I love dearly will say that I’m anti-woman for these beliefs and some will say I’m an assassin of innocent life. I stand in the middle somewhere as I try to consider the nuances and it is a lonely place to stand. I don’t belong to a camp because I see good people in both camps, and because I see good people in both camps, none of the camps will have me. The world tells us that we have to plant our flag on one side and despise the other, be disgusted by the other, call the other godless, evil, ignorant, misogynist, and on and on. To Brene’ Brown’s point in Braving the Wilderness, I don’t want to connect with a group or bond with others because we hate the same people with equal intensity. I want to find my relevance in a group that is built on who we can love and how much we can love them. This middle ground, this desert, this wilderness is isolating and scary and I’m hoping that I will eventually bump into others who live here too. I hope that even if we disagree we can commune respectfully and thoughtfully with our hearts and arms wide open for a warm embrace. Brene’ wrote a chapter titled, “It’s Hard to Hate Close Up,” and this is why I believe sharing and listening to each other’s stories is so important in the quest to love each other better and create a space of belonging. I would like to be on this journey with you.    

As I continue to tell my story and listen to others, I want everyone to know that the God I serve loves all of us, regardless of the choices we’ve made. I want everyone to know that God is not up in heaven wagging his finger, shaking his head, and saying “shame on you!” I want every person to know that they are loved and worthy of that love. I hear God saying, “grace on you!” God’s love is the example I seek to follow and I pray that I will connect with others on the same journey for life-giving grace and unabashed love.

If you relate to these struggles I would love to hear from you! I believe we can speak hope and love into each other’s lives. As I mentioned earlier, if I’ve missed a perspective and you would like to share your story and your thoughts, I would also love to hear from you! I believe it’s the sharing of the history behind our narratives that can build bridges. If you think a more nuanced conversation is valuable, please share this so that we can continue a conversation void of hate and hurt and filled with grace and the desire to listen and love well!

Reframing the Negative Beliefs We Have About Ourselves

If you ever hear a voice that says, “you’re too this” or “you’re too that” or “you’re not enough of this or that,” I want to suggest that you can gently steer that voice to a new truth. I think it’s possible that what we’ve come to consider our weaknesses, in many cases, might be our greatest assets. Let’s talk about reframing that inner chatter that has led to beliefs about ourselves that are not serving us well.

A few weeks ago I was in a work meeting where I found myself waffling back and forth between 2 sides who were making very good points. I suddenly felt terribly embarrassed about my lack of decision-making ability. Embarrassed that I couldn’t choose a side and stick with it. Embarrassed that I couldn’t make up my mind. My inner critic was turning up the heat with warnings of how ridiculous I looked. I pictured her rolling her eyes while she said, “Renee’ your inability to choose a side is reflective of your lack of intelligence. Everyone in this meeting is annoyed with how indecisive you are and you’re losing any respect you may have had from these colleagues. If you were smarter you would know which choice was the right one and stick with it.” When the meeting ended I sent a message to my co-worker apologizing for flip-flopping and joking that I would make a terrible politician. Her reply caught me completely off guard and offered that eye-rolling part of me a new interpretation of who I am and what I have to offer. My co-worker shared that if she had a choice of who would mediate a difficult discussion with 2 opposing views, she would CHOOSE me, because I’m fair and open to hearing both sides before making a decision. In a matter of seconds she turned a trait I have always seen as a shortcoming into a skill, a strength, an offering to help others. I was astounded! For as long as I can remember I have been frustrated with my inability to choose a side and then “stick to my guns.” For the first time, I was hearing that this “inability” actually made me capable of leading difficult discussions and bringing nuance to disagreements. In a matter of seconds my colleague took a 30+ year belief that I was a failure at being decisive and turned it right on its head.

Do you have beliefs about yourself that could be reframed? Maybe you believe you’re too emotional or oversensitive, but your friends and co-workers see a compassionate human being that heals hearts with loving empathy. Maybe you think you’re too shy, too quiet, but people feel a peace in your presence because you naturally make room for them to process their feelings and just be. Maybe you believe you’re too loud or too assertive, but others are drawn to you and inspired because you bravely stand up for what you believe in.

I encourage you to share your insecurities with a trusted loved one and ask them what they see. Allow someone who loves and cares for you help you redefine how you see yourself and your “flaws.” Explore those areas where you beat yourself up, and consider the possibility that those could be the very places that bring so much value to the lives around you. We will always have opportunities for growth and areas for improvement, but let’s first make sure we’re not trying to fix something that isn’t broken.

Hope In Times of Uncertainty

Have you ever struggled with self-doubt? Have you ever approached an ending or a beginning and wondered, “how did I get here?” Have you ever felt hopeless in changing the trajectory of your life? Have you ever taken inventory of your environment and thought, “this is not how I imagined it would be?” Do you ever lay awake at night asking, “Is this where I belong? Am I on the path that fulfills my purpose?” Have you ever struggled to give yourself grace in your circumstance? If you answered yes to any of these questions, you are not alone and there is hope my friend. A new day is coming.  

This past week I’ve been feeling stuck. Struggling with purpose. Searching for meaning. I’ve felt lost with an ache in my soul that fears it’s chasing something that doesn’t want to be chased. There’s a voice telling me I’ve run out of ideas, I have no more worthwhile thoughts to share, nothing left to say or write. This has me feeling dispirited and exasperated with myself for not being more thoughtful and creative, for not running deeper and longer. The voice is saying, “you have nothing to offer and quite frankly, you never did!”

I’m not sure where these feelings stem from. It could be that I turn 40 this year. It could be that we’re in the season of all the hard anniversaries that bring back the grief of losing my brother before his time. It could be that I truly need a shift in my life and quite a bit more therapy. It could be (and probably is) a combination of all these things. One thing I know for sure is that these are lies from an enemy that is doing his very best to tear me from the inside out with distortion and deceit. The truth is that we are all wonderful and beautiful creations with purpose and callings that we are uniquely equipped to fulfill.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. John 10:10 ESV

I heard a timely message on Easter Sunday that struck a chord in me. It was the simple reminder that His love brings resurrection. The love of Jesus brings life! When we are feeling lost, lonely, worthless, hopeless, small, insignificant, we can look to the promises of Jesus for light and life, hope and joy, restoration and resurrection. He breathes a new spirit into our tired hearts and worn out souls.

This message reminded me of my own Jesus-breathed renewal. I laid in chronic pain for months, depending on others to care for me and my newborn son, most days believing that my life as I knew it was over. And yet, there came a day when I rose from my bed and the pain fell away. There was a day that I woke up and with the arms of Jesus wrapped firmly around me I slowly re-entered life. Jesus carried me through the shadows of pain and defeat into the glow of victory. I walked hand in hand with Jesus into a new morning of hope and joy and I knew I had been given a second chance at life. I embraced a gratitude for life at a depth and width I had never experienced in all my 33 years. This was my new becoming. In that moment I celebrated the joy that comes with knowing my Father will never leave me, that he is always faithful, that he loves me unconditionally, and that his plans for me are always good. I was a new woman in Christ. I embraced life with a new fervor. I felt a peace and strength and confidence in him that I had never before experienced. He had resurrected my heart and spirit and nothing would ever be the same. 

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My hopeless place. My storm.

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My resurrected place. My new day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Easter message was a timely reminder that there is hope in each new day. A timely reminder that this broken place we may find ourselves in today is only a small moment in time on our journey with the God of love. A timely reminder that he is a God of new beginnings and he continues to lay a path before us, whether we see it or not. A timely reminder that we are all precious in his eyes, adored by our creator, and made for a great love and abundant life in him and him in us!

If you are hearing a voice that says, you’re not where you should be, a voice that doubts you have what it takes, a voice that says you’re not enough, a voice that says you’ll never find your path or purpose, a voice that calls you a failure and tells you that your circumstance is hopeless, I want you to know and believe that voice is a liar…The Liar. You are on a journey with peaks and valleys, midnights and mornings and it is the journey with Jesus that brings you wisdom and strength. It is the journey that equips you to shine love and light into the lives of those around you. It is the journey that brings you into a new morning and a new life. You were created for wholeness and he will make you whole. Have hope my friend, there is a new day dawning! 

You are enough! You are worthy! You are loved!

 

Delivered From Fear and Filled With Love

If you are living with crippling fear and anxiety, there is hope. If you are living in a place of dark depression, there is hope. If you are living with a resentment and bitterness that won’t leave your weary soul alone, there is hope. If you are experiencing any stronghold in your life, no matter how long you’ve fought, there is still hope!

This is good news, and what makes this great news is that this hope is not dependent on you or anything you can do. It does not depend on your behavior or your prayer. It does not depend on your religiosity or your repetition of memorized verses. This hope comes from Jesus who is in the business of supernatural peace and joy, comfort and love, repair and restoration.

Below is my dad’s testimony about how the Lord delivered him from a crippling fear and filled his heart with a love for others that dispelled the bitterness he held onto for many years. This was not an immediate transformation, but an extended exercise in trust and a release of religious formulas.

If you are struggling with a stronghold in your life I pray this 20-minute video will bring you hope. I pray you will believe deep down that this road you’re on will open to a space of freedom you have never imagined. I pray you will hold onto the hope that this journey leads to a strength far greater than anything humanly possible and that one day you will find glorious healing and wholeness. I pray that you will take rest in knowing that someday peace will come over you “like warm oil.”

I’m thankful for my dad’s vulnerability in sharing his testimony. His transformation has given me the courage to face hardships in my life a thousand times over. The work I’ve seen Jesus do in my dad’s life continues to keep me open to work that is yet to be done in my own.

I encourage anyone who has experienced supernatural intervention to share openly as a way to give God the glory and to bring expectancy of a brighter future to those who find themselves in the pit of hopelessness. Let us remind each other of the victory that lies ahead!

 

12 Tips to Read More Books

Have you been setting the same New Year’s resolution to “read more books” for years now? Are you wondering how you can possibly find time to fit reading into your already extremely busy life? I had set the same goals and wondered the same thing for years. I finally found a rhythm in 2018. Some of these tips may apply to your personality type and some may not. Take what you can and leave the rest.

  1. Read more than one book at a time – If you ever have FOMO or wonder what else you could be learning, what goal to attack next, what knowledge could change your life, then read more than one book at a time. If sitting still is difficult and your foot is constantly tapping, then read more than one book at a time. If you have many interests, many hobbies, many passions, then read more than one book at a time. If you have a job for 1 year and immediately begin wondering what you could learn next, do next, how you could grow and develop, then read more than one book at a time. If you bore easily, then DEFINITELY read more than one book at a time. I remain motivated and eager as I switch from spiritual to career development to self-help to memoir to psychology to a fiction that can take me away from it all.
  2. Have a bathroom book – For goodness sakes, leave your phone in another room and if you have kids, lock the door! A bathroom book allows for guaranteed reading time. Depending on how many cups of coffee or tea you drink throughout the day, you may have more reading time than others! A little time is better than no time.
  3. Set a goal for each time you pick up a book – I am goal-oriented and easily incentivized. Deciding an end point and reaching that end point creates a little hi-five party in my head. If a book has short chapters, I decide that every time I pick it up I will read 1 chapter. If it’s a book with long chapters, I’ll read to the next page break. If it’s my bathroom book, I read 2 pages. Side note: Thank you to all the authors of books with short chapters. Your books allow me to celebrate often and make me feel so capable!
  4. Write a review when you’re done – Writing a review of the books you read is like keeping a list of your accomplishments. I find it fun to write reviews on social media and/or goodreads.com, but it feels just as good to write them in a journal or in a document on your computer. If you’re a list-maker, this is an action that feels like you’ve crossed something BIG off your list and at the end of the year you can see just how much you accomplished.
  5. Read books recommended by people you love – Sharing the love of books with friends and family is an excellent way to connect. I have found that discussing books with others often helps us to dive deeper into each other’s lives. Conversation with depth leads to relationships with depth.
  6. Wake up earlier – I recommend doing this in small increments so that it feels less challenging. I began the year waking up just 15 minutes earlier so that I could do a little reading before the kids woke up and now I’m up 30 minutes earlier. My goal is to be awake an hour earlier by the end of the year. This has been the biggest and best habit I have changed so far this year. This routine has absolutely changed how I feel when my kids wake up after me. I’ve already had my quiet time and I feel more prepared for the chaos of the morning. I am a more patient and present mom when I give myself this time. 
  7. Choose and create an inviting space to read – I begin my mornings by making myself a hot chai tea that smells like cinnamon and vanilla and all things lovely. I turn on enough light to read by and I light 3 candles in different areas of the house so there’s just a flicker of light wherever I look. I am not exaggerating when I say that there are moments I feel like I’m on a retreat. These magical moments of relaxation help me to remain grounded throughout the day.
  8. Underline, highlight, write in the margins – I’m a note-taker and have always enjoyed the study required in school settings. I’m more likely to remember what I’ve read and have more take-aways when I engage with a book the way I used to when I was a student. With my highlights and notes, not only am I more likely to remember the content that I valued, but I can also easily re-read it, search for quotes I loved, and write my review.
  9. Buy a book you can hold – I know many people (including my husband) will laugh at me and call me old-school, but I love the feel of a book in my hand. I love being able to see the layout as I flip through the pages. I love the cover. I love the way a new book smells. I love that a new book goes from firm and clean to worn and seasoned expressing how loved it was in coffee stains, highlights, notations, dog-ears, etc.  I love being able to look at my bookshelf and quickly pull something out to refer to when I’m writing or having a conversation or working on developing a skill. In addition, tip #8 is easier for me to do in a real book.
  10. Bring a book with you – Almost anywhere we go these days, waiting is involved. I get a lot of reading done in airports, planes, Urgent Cares, waiting rooms, restaurants, etc. I’ve found myself changing my chronic habit of being a few minutes late everywhere I go, to being a few minutes early all in the hopes that I will arrive before the others and get a little reading done while I’m waiting. 
  11. Put the iPhone away – If you’re sitting down to read, put your iphone in a place it cannot be easily accessed. Increased distraction will inevitably come with increased accessibility. I am amazed how quickly the minutes disappear as I scroll “real quick” through Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. If I put my phone out of reach, I easily get 10-15 minutes more of solid reading in.
  12. Make reading a must – On the Happier podcast, Gretchen Rubin recently said that if you feel like you “must read,” then you will. This is what it feels like to me now that I’ve been doing it every day for over a year. It’s as natural as, “I must eat something” or “I must use the restroom.” It’s just a thing that must be done during my day because it’s as much a part of my routine as any other necessity.

    I hope you find at least 2 or 3 of these tips helpful. Reading has brought me so much joy and I hope you’ll find the time to let all those amazing books out there do the same for you! I wish you all the best in making reading a must and may you throw many mental hi-five parties! 

9 Tips for People Who Hate Running but Want to Do it Anyway

Do you suspect that people are lying when they talk about a “runners high?” Do you wish you knew what all the hype was about? Are you willing to do something you hate just to see if a habit really can be created in 21 days? Maybe you’re just looking for something that you can do outside that is free and good for your health.

For many years I made goals around running, hoping I would catch the fever, but it just never stuck. I was following what I believed to be the traditional advice yet it never worked.

I finally stopped trying to BE a runner and just started doing what worked for me. Below are the things that finally clicked, including lessons I’ve learned along the way. Enjoy!

1. Don’t spend a fortune on new running shoes

Shoes from a store that specialize in their ability to find you your best running shoe (including a treadmill diagnostic and undoubtedly a pair of $75 custom-made inserts) will not make you faster, and more importantly, they will not make running more enjoyable. In fact, it may end up that you experience buyer’s remorse and twinges of bitterness as you continue to despise running while staring down at your $200 running shoes that have completely disappointed you. Stick with those $60 Nike’s on sale at DSW and feel the freedom of a smart purchase propel you forward.

2. Have a reasonable goal

Don’t start running with a goal around speed or distance or weight loss. With goals like these, you are more likely to push yourself to that familiar place of: running hurts, running sucks, I’m terrible at running, I run so slow, I may as well be walking, I hate running, and so on. Find a goal that will motivate you, such as: I’m going to run so that I can get 38 glorious minutes away from my beautiful, wonderful, energetic, needy, overly verbose, nerve-gnawing, button-pushing children, or I’m going to run in the hopes that I get to see my cute neighbor mowing the lawn (single ladies only), or I’m going to run to escape the fishy smell infiltrating my house thanks to my husband’s new Paleo diet, which calls for a salmon salad every day. Make running serve you!

3. Don’t fart without checking behind you first

It might just be me, but all the jiggling and wiggling created while I run makes me gassy. It didn’t take me long to learn that “real” runners are stealthy ninjas that sneak up behind you without a sound and they have uncanny timing! If you think it’s safe to “release” the discomfort, remind yourself that you’re probably not alone.

4. Listen to something that transports you

If music takes you to another place, then by all means listen to music, but don’t discredit the value of other listening pleasures. Music pumps me up, but it’s not enough to remove the obsessive, “I hate running” thoughts that drum out with each step of my affordable shoes. However, when I listen to podcasts I can almost forget that I’m running. Whether it’s music, a podcast, a book on tape, a running meditation (this is for real), or whale sounds, find something that takes your mind to a place where it’s not screaming, “why are you doing this to me?!? This is awful! I hate you and your stupid goals to get healthy!”

  5. Wear cute clothes

Expensive shoes don’t make running more enjoyable, but cute clothes do! As you run for 30 seconds (during your 5-minute walk, 30-second run rotation), you’ll feel stylish and think to yourself, “everyone driving by right now thinks I’m a real runner.”

6. Apply baby powder to your inner thighs

This tip is especially true on hot days, when you’re wearing shorts, and/or if you just shaved your legs.

7. Use the bathroom before running (especially important if you have given birth)

7a. Do yourself a favor and map out large bushes and empty canals as your back-up plan

If you must resort to your back-up plan, please refer to tip #3…#ninjas

8. Stretch before running

My son made me add this. I’ve literally never stretched before I run, but he’s right, a good stretch is just plain practical.

9. Keep running

Claim victory over your running nemesis! When you hear yourself thinking, “maybe running isn’t the WORST thing in the world” or “I would rather run than have to handle the mess that results in a 2 year old pooping in her bath,” or “I’m pretty sure I would prefer running over breaking my toe or stepping on a Lego,” then you are approaching a great transformation!

Happy running and may you one day shockingly say, “I want to go running!”

Thirty Minute Therapy

I’ve been in and out of therapy since high school and with the extensive internal work I’ve done, I recognize pretty quickly when it’s time to go back. I feel my irritability rising and my joy plummeting. I hear my self-talk turning against me. I see my days through a shadowed lense and I know it’s time. I identified these patterns a few months back, but had to put off making an appointment due to extensive work travel and financial shifts in our household.

I finally made an appointment two weeks ago with a brand new therapist and yesterday was the day. I woke up expectant. I felt energized knowing that I was about to pursue something that would lead to personal growth, self-reflection, forward progress, and overall evolvement. I love therapy!

The day had come and I was prepared for my appointment. As I ran out the door, I shoved a little yellow sticky note into my purse with a list of things I wanted to address while in therapy:

  • Grief and anxiety triggers
  • Career path and purpose for my life
  • Relationship with my son
  • Self-esteem and confidence
  • People pleasing

As a full-time working mom, I give myself enthusiastic mental hi-fives when I arrive anywhere on time. I was 2 minutes early! Yay me! I walked into the office at 10:28am feeling confident that I was about to begin a journey of self-discovery and healing. Just moments after I reached the front desk, the therapist came around the corner. I eagerly introduced myself, but immediately felt hesitation from her. She shook my hand, while studying me quizzically and said, “weeelllll, it’s going to be a veeerrry short session because your appointment was at 10am.” And that, ladies and gentleman, is when everything shifted.

The air was sucked out of the room, I instantly felt heat travel from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, color flooded my cheeks, and I began to sweat. I was frantically searching for words that would explain this mishap and convince her that I’m not irresponsible and undependable. I immediately convinced myself that I was being deservedly judged and that this woman disliked me before we even met. As we walked back to her office I was still stuttering through apologies and promises that it would never happen again. I even declared obvious untruths such as, “this never happens!” and “I never do this!” Obviously, it does happen! Obviously, I do this! My hope and excitement for transformation just minutes earlier were completely replaced with self-loathing and shame.

For the first 15 minutes of our session she explained Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) therapy and what I could expect as we move through the process. I did not hear one word! As she was explaining how we would address my grief triggers, my inner dialogue was shouting loud and fast. The monologue inside my head was saying with disgust, “she already doesn’t respect you, you’re going to have to find another therapist, there’s no way this is going to work, she’s judging you and thinks you’re irresponsible, obviously you ARE irresponsible, how could you get this wrong?, what is wrong with you?, if you can’t even get a time right on your calendar she must think you’re an idiot, it’s your fault this isn’t going to work, now you’re going to have to find another therapist and start this entire process over, you are such a disappointment, you let others down, you let yourself down!!!!” and on and on and on. I could see her lips moving, and catch a few words here and there, but for the life of me I could not focus on what she was saying. Her voice had no chance of drowning out the self-shaming roar inside my head.

And then (thank the Good Lord), I had a moment of clarity!

From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of my little yellow sticky note sitting in my purse, and I remembered that 2 of the items listed were to address my self-esteem/confidence and people pleasing.

That brief visual prompted me to consider: What if this is the beginning of my therapy? What if this is my opportunity to grow? What if I choose the hard thing and stay with this therapist instead of running away because my pride is injured and I’ve decided she hates me? What if I silence that lying voice set on repeat by breaking the script and deciding that I am allowed to make mistakes without beating myself up? That I am allowed to be human. Allowed to disappoint someone and still be respected. Allowed to confidently pursue friendships and professional relationships even with all my flaws fully in tact. Allowed to move forward after a failure without shame digging it’s nails in. Allowed to be imperfect. Allowed to be me even if it means I can’t please all people all the time. What if this veerrry short session ended in a verrry valuable lesson? What if I decided to lean into the idea that I am likable, I am loveable, I am worthy, and simultaneously, I am a flawed human!

I decided right then and there that I was not going to look for another therapist. I decided right then and there that this was simply an eye-opening example of how often I’m controlled by the intense desire to please other people. I decided right then and there that moving forward with this therapist would mean I would have to forgive myself and begin embracing the idea that relationships can and do move forward even after I’ve disappointed someone. 

After I made this decision I was instantly able to tune into what she was saying. I became present and engaged. Soon, I left the office feeling like I had quietly conquered something inside me that had attempted to sabotage my efforts to move towards health and healing, growth and transformation, hope and joy. I left feeling proud that I didn’t allow shame to chase me away from something I knew my heart and soul needed.

I want to encourage everyone reading this to join me in paying attention to what that critical voice is saying and how it may be holding you back. Let us acknowledge that this voice developed somewhere in our past as a way to protect us, therefore there is no need to criticize or judge ourselves for its existence. Next, let us make bold new choices based on the present moment to move forward with self-love, confidence, and freedom.

We are wonderfully and beautifully made. We are flawed, we are human, we are loved. 

Dear Parkinson’s. Dear Mom.

Dear Parkinson’s

 

You will not have my mom.

You may take her outer strength,

but her inner strength blooms on.

You may take her voice,

but her love is loud and strong.

 

You may change her movement,

stiffer, and sometimes slow.

Fatigue may settle in,

and changes surely show,

but her spirit still shines large

and her beauty only grows.

 

You may be the reason

that she stops to take a rest,

but you can’t keep her heart from

pouring out kindness.

Our hero and our warrior

forever more, never less.

 

She’s mightier than you

in soul, and guts, and heart,

a solid pillar of peace,

you cannot pull apart.

No disease can steal the grace

that she perfectly imparts.

 

No amount of symptoms

could change her legacy.

No illness diminishes that

she’s all I want to be.

No consequence of aging can shrink

my mom, my hope, my peace.


Mom, you recently asked a dear friend about your value and belonging now that you have Parkinson’s. You wondered about your purpose as you struggle with no longer being able to serve others in the ways you always have. I am here to tell you on behalf of everyone that has ever known you, that your value and belonging have never been defined by what you could do for others. Your value and belonging have ALWAYS been defined by who you are and whose you are.

You are the most Godly, loving, kind, generous of spirit, selfless, peace-giving, and gracious person I’ve ever known. Parkinson’s will NEVER take away all the lovely and life-giving qualities that make you who you are!

What you’ve always given and continue to pour into your family is an everlasting love…a grace that surpasses a lifetime…an agape love that has wrapped itself around each of us for eternity…a kindness that is warm and unconditional…an endless lesson of how to care for others with compassion and servanthood.

My hope has always been and will always be that I could grow each day to be more like you. This prayer doesn’t change as you struggle with the symptoms of Parkinson’s. Parkinson’s can’t steal your value…nothing can! Mom, your value isn’t in how much you can do…how many hours you can help…how many “yes’s” you can say…how many brownies you can bake (although those are amazing!). Your value has and always will be the beautiful fruit of the spirit that you display every day of your life. Your value has and always will be the heart and spirit that God created in order for you to love others in ways they’ve never been loved. Your value has and always will be from a Father who loves you as mightily now as he did the day you were born.

You must know, and more importantly, believe that your family values you as much today, in this moment, as we did when you fixed breakfast every morning, sang us to sleep every night, attended every choir concert and ball game, took us school shopping, and helped raise our children. It has never been what you do for us…it has always been about how you love us. The love that pours from your soul has not changed with Parkinson’s, and no disease could ever steal our love from you. You belong. You are valued.

There truly are not words to describe how proud I am to call you mom. Jesus is Love and so are you! The love you share shines bright into the hearts of those who know you and that light is passed from person to person eventually touching people you’ve never met. The light you have imparted in other’s lives will never extinguish, nor will the legacy of your life.


My Mom

 

Love pours from her so fiercely

as she wraps you in her peace.

Her arms are warm and steady,

kindness plays across her face.

 

She holds you up in prayer,

puts you first, because that’s love.

Serves hope with steady wisdom,

points our eyes to Him above.

 

An image of perfect grace.

A heart that wants to serve.

She gives with all she has,

wanting nothing in return.

 

She’s strong and full of beauty.

Wise and believes the best.

She quickly finds your worth.

Chooses service over rest.

 

Forgiveness given freely,

no judgment does she bring.

She looks to help others heal,

chasing out shame’s sting.

 

She’s mighty and she’s humble,

powerful and kind,

She’s everything I hope to be

I’m so blessed that she is mine.

 

My perfectly made, lovely, beautiful mom.                                                                                           

                                                                        

 

 

 

Fostering Refugees – The Stigma that Scared Me

A few months ago, at the height of reports showing kids being separated from their parents at the border, Pete and I came across an opportunity that immediately felt like a calling. We were encouraged to apply for a license that would allow us to foster these children until they are reunited with their parents or sponsor family, and we both were immediately on board. Since we submitted our application we have completed 15 hours of in-person training, approximately 22 hours of on-line Foster Parent College training, and amounts of paperwork that exceeded all reasonable expectations.

Last night we finished laying our hearts and our home on the line for a 4-hour foster home inspection and family interview.

Things that went well:

  1. We’re now one step closer to offering a temporary home to the kids separated from their parents at the border. My heart is singing!
  2. Our house is cleaner, safer, and more organized than it has ever been before. Good luck opening any of our cabinets ever again. If you need surgery, we have a platinum 250 person first aid kit that will SAVE YOUR LIFE! If you’re on fire, head on over and we’ll extinguish it immediately!
  3. Pete and I feel closer as a couple after exploring our past, present, and future, our strengths and weakness, and our hopes and dreams for 4 hours with a complete stranger.

Things that could’ve gone better:

  1. We could’ve done without the live scorpion on Isaac’s bedroom curtain during the SAFETY inspection!
  2. Could’ve done without our Jack Russell fishing through the case workers purse to eat her hair clip.
  3. When I answered that we had no weapons, Isaac could’ve forgotten (just like I had) that I have a Samurai sword from a leadership conference many years ago. #compassionatesamurai
  4. Isaac and Sonoma could NOT have played their new giggle-inducing game, which consists of them repeating the words, “you’re a bad mommy, you’re a bad daddy.” #kidsarehilarious
  5. Isaac could’ve avoided using EVERY innocent toy as a weapon of some sorts. The Minnie Mouse blow dryer turned full pistol last night!

We know we’re on the right path and answering a calling as none of this feels burdensome. We are thrilled for the next step and to minister love to these kids at a time of such trauma and fear and loss. #allgodschildren

Last night was also the first time we made our decision public by posting on social media. Until last night the only people we had shared with were immediate family and those we asked to be our references.

Since my post last night I have had quite a few people reach out wondering when we made this decision. I’ve been thinking a lot about why I hadn’t made our decision public until now.

The first reason I haven’t been openly sharing this decision is because I didn’t want it to look like or feel like we were seeking accolades. I knew a lot of our friends would be excited for us and I didn’t want our decision to move forward, when the movement got tough, to be influenced by the desire to please others or make others proud. I truly felt like this was a calling from the beginning and I didn’t want to be motivated or feel pressured by external sources.

Secondly, and sadly, I have been tentative to share our decision because of the negative reactions I feared we would receive from some. Due to the polarized climate we currently live in I was worried that our commitment to foster kids that have been separated from their parents at the border would require us to defend ourselves. I have heard so much hateful rhetoric throughout the year that paints immigrants as nonhuman and undeserving of love and kindness, compassion and grace. I could barely stomach the idea that our decision may be received with this level of vitriol…or any level of disappointment whatsoever. I was preparing myself for conversations with people I love and care about that would strip away my respect for them. I was arming up for debates on what “kind” of child “deserves” help. I was expecting heartbreaking backlash from at least a few people in our lives and I was afraid of how our relationships would weather the storm. But, the truth is…once an issue is made personal, hearts often soften. Once there’s a face we can touch, and a hand we can hold, putting a voice to a highly debated and sensitive issue, the dynamics begin to shift. Civility is often restored when the matter in question lands in our own backyard.

We have received an outpouring of love and support since my post last night and although it appears that some are more excited about our decision than others, there hasn’t been any nastiness or uncomfortable pushback. I must admit that I didn’t give the benefit of the doubt and for that I’m sorry. I hope our decision will help bring a name and a face to the debate around the border. I hope our decision will humanize this issue versus politicize it. I hope our decision will remind us and others of the inherent value of all people regardless of ethnicity, country of origin, race, color, religion, etc. I hope and pray our decision will be heart changing and maybe even life saving for all of us who are a part of this process.

A Daughter’s Response to an Ageless Father

My dad wrote the authentic and vulnerable poem below about his experience with aging and his hope in the Lord. I’m thankful that he gave me permission to share his poem on my blog. I’ve added a poem I wrote to him in response that he hasn’t yet seen. Dad, your influence reaches far and wide and my love for you is boundless. Thank you for allowing me to share your words with others…thank you for your courage in being open about how it feels to grow older. I learn so  much from you and mom every day!

Shrinking Man

Possibilities and dreams
the world was full of them it seemed.
Now my options fading fast,
life much smaller than my past,
Shrinking man.

Lovely wife and precious kids
Love my God for all he did,
Still feel his love as time flies past
But it remains a fact, alas
Shrinking man.

Influence fades as we get old,
Once sought for wisdom, now just told,
Powerlessness seems to creep in slow,
A mocking sense it brings of woe,
Shrinking man.

So on HIM I fix my gaze,
As my person fades away,
A day will come when I shall die,
And then I’ll see the reason why,
The process isn’t bad you see,
It’s just the path to victory.
With joy I’ll rest in His embrace,
Forever I’ll behold His face
Thanking Him eternally
That I will no longer be,
Shrinking man.

– Ron Little (my dad)


Larger Than Life – A Legacy of Love

My dad, my rock, my shield, my strength
grows bigger in my eyes, not weak
His heart expands, his wisdom grows
to soak it in, I draw close

In his eyes and in his deeds
God’s growing love is what I see
Each day, each year that passes by
his courage builds before my eyes

He shares his doubts, his fears, his pain
with an open heart he faces change
a vulnerable glimpse he offers us
a friend, a father, a man I trust

I’ve watched my dad grow in the Lord
evolve and change moving forward
a human life with sin and grace
reminding me I have a place

So, to my dad I want to say
as your “person fades away”
who you are to me remains
the many who taught me how to pray
A day will come when you will die
and I’ll always know the reason why
you loved the Lord with so much might
encouraged me to keep my sight
on the One of love and light
You will never be small to me
You will only be more free

– your daughter