Five Minute Friday - Reflect

I’m sitting online tonight with friends from coast to coast and all through the central states (Canada too!) and have just learned that this is our final Five Minute Friday of the year. Lisa Jo Baker has declared a December sabbatical, and while I will miss this company, I will stay in touch with what my girl Karrilee and I have started to call #bossysocialmedia, while enjoying a little more in real life time with family and friends.

But for tonight, we will draw close together here. We will capture our hearts and spill our thoughts, lives, hopes, and fears across page and screen as we play with one word for five full minutes.

Community can be a challenge. It can wreck you, break you, heal you, and complete you. This one – maybe it’s done all of the above for you. But it will still open its arms and welcome you in if you’ll allow it to. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.

Since this is the last FMF post for the year, I'm allowing myself a little extra leeway.

I hope you'll give me grace. 

This is far more than five minutes. 

But I have things I want to say.

This week: Reflect

Go 

Time is a tricky thing. It moves so achingly slow in our childhood, and so frighteningly fast as we get old. Is it Latin? Or Faust? O run slowly, slowly, horses of the night! I didn’t quite grasp it the first time I read it. Now, I know all too well.

Sometimes the gears turn for good, and one things leads to another; one step follows one more, and God leads you out of a desert into the next Promised Land – the next thing He has planned for you.

This time last year, I was counting every minute our heater ran – measuring the meter of our small amount of dollars against the temperature gauge; demanding that we all put on “just one more layer” to try and keep the house at sixty-five degrees. Brrrr.

This time last year, I was only barely opening the door to an online community that would later welcome me in with open arms; where friendships would blossom; where I would see God work and lives change. Twitter scared me.

This time last year, I sat in cramped into a tiny classroom chair listening to a tired, well-meaning teacher tell me again how socially dysfunctional my daughter was; how she had no more ideas to teach her with; and how she wondered if our girl would be able to progress academically because of all of her issues. I was so angry.

Time can pass slowly in the desert. Heat overwhelms and the dry dusty reality of no water and no relief from the relentless onslaught of the elements make you cry empty tears of despair and longing for greener hills and kinder climes. But God finds us in these desert times, and when we are stripped down of all that we do not need to bear – stripped down so that all we can do is look up and look to Him for our daily bread and daily breath – sometimes, those are the times when He chooses to move mountains most miraculously.

This year, I’m still chilled – but that may be a permanent wintertime situation for me. C’est la vie. The heat blasts away, and the only thing I’m watching is a roaring fire and toasty toes as my family stays comfortably safe within these walls. The dollars are not tremendous, but I am working and so is my husband. I breathe thanks for the eucharisteo that has happened here.

This year, the Twitter party does not frighten me to pieces as it once did. I fling myself randomly and joyfully in and out of conversations. I share lives with women I’ve never met through email, Facebook, Twitter, Voxer, Instagram (did we mention #bossysocialmedia?) and it is joy upon joy to have them in my life. I have met one who is close to my heart, write snail mail to others, blog with them, and am working on a special God-Sized dream project for a very  special friend who is miles away, but who feels like she’s right next door. I've had the opportunity to partner with them to do amazing like Laundry in South Africa and projects for mercy's sake in Kenya.

This year, I sat in a slightly larger classroom chair and watched a tremendously gifted teacher spill wonderful secrets about my girl. She brings such good things to the table. She’s a fantastic reader – above her level. She’s a good writer. She’s a great helper. She's doing well and she's going places. I almost cried happy as I sat there – overwhelmed and over time as we talked and smiled and shared. Then burst with pride and shared relentlessly online and watched over forty friends like and comment in support of my family and my girl.

In a few short days, I’ll be home again – home where my heart will always beat; home where my pulse thrums – and it will go both quicker than I like and at the same time, slower. I don’t want to chase time. I want to release myself to simmer and soak in each moment – capturing it not on film or online (though I’ll surely be doing that to), but on the canvass of my heart, where all of these things I do: waiting, hurting, laughing, aching, learning, praying, growing, singing, screaming, smiling, blending, being – embed themselves into the lifeblood of my heart and being.

I am becoming.

Stop

How to Join
Want to know about Lisa Jo Baker, how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation! 

Behind the Scenes - Just One Photo

Even though this blog post was on the back burner of my mind, I only took one picture on Thanksgiving Day. This is notable for at least a couple of reasons. I’m usually extremely prolific with photos, but my favorite (let’s face it, only really good) camera has been on the fritz for a long time and I haven’t been able to afford to fix it or get a new one. In lieu of that, I’m often Instagraming my way through events at least part of the time – for fun, for memories, and for hopes of finding something worth sharing later.

I just have one picture from our Thanksgiving celebration, and it means more than a million words that this is all I have.

Just one picture meant: I was so caught up and engaged with my family that thoughts of photo snapping, life documenting, and (gasp) even blogging escaped me for the afternoon and evening (well, mostly, I am a writer, after all).

Just one picture meant: this first holiday with my family-in-law after several years of estrangement was so joyful and real; all I wanted to do was be present in every moment with them and let the memories etch themselves in my mind and heart, not on my social media feeds.

Just one picture meant: the collaboration on the dinner was spectacular, and none of us could let it sit around long enough to take pretty pictures. We were hungry, and it was that good. Imagine stuffed mushrooms, spinach dip, fritta, the most succulent turkey you’ve ever had, fabulous gravy (I’m not going to lie, our gravy rocks), two kinds of cranberries, classic green been casserole mashed potatoes, and a sweet potato pecan casserole that might as well be dessert. Then actual dessert: lemon meringue and pumpkin cheesecake pies. I might have missed something, but it doesn’t matter. You get the idea.

Just one picture meant: laughing over Yahtzee and Chicken Feet (a family domino tradition) had us holding our sides and our heads. It’s a little crazy, and a little wild, and you have to hang on to the dining room table or it might wind up in the kitchen.

Just one picture meant: as a family, we held each other that night. In our hugs; in warm looks exchanged; in loving words shared; in the freedom of simply being together with no boundaries or history or baggage in the way – simply being.

Part of me wishes I had more to share, and I will tuck in this one picture of our bella-girl from four years ago (the last time we were together) just because she’s so lovely, but I don’t regret for one moment having just one picture from this past Thanksgiving. No. Not one bit.





I'm linking up with Crystal Stine and company again today; joining the Behind the Scenes link up –  where we show those photos – but tell the real story behind them. The sneak peek behind the scenes, a look past the edges of the photo to the real life behind it.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

The First Candle – the Light of Hope

This year, my winter celebrations are piling up, one right on top of the other. With a ‘fridge still full of Thanksgiving leftovers, and four candles still burning brightly atop the Menorah, I’m about the flip the calendar over to December and usher in Advent. This precious time of waiting and remembrance before Christmas.

In the early church, Advent was celebrated with fasting ending with a celebration to signify the arrival of the Magi. In more recent times, we’ve become most familiar with the three purple candles and one pink, lit each Sunday leading up to Christmas.

My husband and I have always kept Advent as one of our family traditions and have enjoyed sharing it with our daughter. One of the reasons I love this season so much is that it puts the brakes on the rush to celebrate. These days, you can hardly get through the back-to-school rush before Halloween is on the shelves, then Thanksgiving, (Hanukkah if you’re lucky and more urban), and before you know it, Christmas. As in Christmas Eve. Bring me presents, piles of food, and lots of celebrating.

When you celebrate Advent, there is a bit of a pause before you go hurtling through the month that’s likely filled to the brim with fun, family-centered get-togethers, and gathering of friends around warm drinks and warmer fires. I want that breath. I want that pause. I want that small space of retreat to remember. I love to celebrate, but I want to recall with anticipation just what I’m celebrating. These are the traditions I cherish.

The First Candle – Hope & Prophesy 

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:2 & 6 ESV 

Because of this prophesy in Isaiah, and so many others, we have hope. The God who threw off the mighty robes of heaven to become Love come down to be wrapped in mere swaddling clothes in a meager manger – that God holds the ebb and flow of the universe in His hands. And in His heart, He holds a vast, immeasurable love for you and me. That love is at the heart of the identity of our relationship with Him.

In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. 1 John 4:9 ESV 

We love because he first loved us. 1 John 4:19 ESV 

Because of the relationship we have through Christ, we become part of the larger family – the larger part of the body of Christ. With that family comes a sense of identity and belonging that we may not have had growing up – knowing without a doubt that we have been personally created by a loving God who has a plan for your life. What is that, if not hope? 

Whether or not you light the Advent candles, I invite you to pause for a moment as the season begins and meditate on the prophesy and hope that was spoken into your life so many years ago, on the hope that is offered now – a connection with a larger family and the love of a Father who will never let you go, and the hope for a future – your future in the hands of Christ who loved you enough to die for you, that you might live through Him.

Light the Lights (A Three Word Wednesday Post)

The author is unknown but this is one of my favorites - every year

For the length of my married life and for a good length of time before that, we have celebrated both Christmas and Hanukkah. It’s something I began before my husband and I were even dating and a celebration that he has segued into more smoothly than I could even imagine. But here’s the thing that tends to throw my friends (and sometimes family) if they don’t already know:

We’re not Jewish.

We’re not even messianic Jews (go Google that one). Just a plain old Christ-believing family with an additional tradition that helps usher in one of the quietest, holiest days of the year. Growing up, I remember sharing the Passover and Hanukkah with friends of our family who were Jewish, and then shared a home with a college roommate and her family who also shared both celebrations.

After hearing several presentations on finding Christ in the Passover, I started gaining a deeper understanding of the Old Testament prophesies and their fulfillment in the New Testament. It gave these traditions and festivals a new life – one I now had a connection to as a child of God grafted into the covenant of Abraham.

Know then that it is those of faith who are the sons of Abraham. And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “In you shall all the nations be blessed.” So then, those who are of faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith. Galatians 3:7-9

For Hanukkah, we simply focus on the Menorah – the lighting of the lights. We talk a little about the history behind it, but much of what we share is about the miracles that God works, has worked, and is working. In the past in history, in our lives, and what He still does today. I have a wonderful book by the Rabbi David Aaron, Inviting God In, Celebrating the Soul-Meaning of the Jewish Holy Days, and while not everything applies, some things do.

One metaphor he uses that I especially like is about imaginary flashlights and what they might show:

Imagine for a moment that you have walked into a magic store that sells special flashlights equipped with different kinds of magic lights. For example, if you shine the “light of science” on your hand, you see not a hand but cells and blood vessels and tendons and ligaments. Another flashlight might be called the “light of art,” and if you point it at your hand you see form and color and texture as if your hand were a painting by Leonardo da Vinci. You are having a lot of fun trying out the different lights, and then you see one labeled ‘the light of Hanukkah.” What will you see in that light?”

The light of Hanukkah is about miracles. About a God who reveals things as new; who defies reason and logic; and who created something from nothing. And is the God of the impossible.

Some people roll their eyes at talk of miracles and continue to call it impossible, impractical, and intolerable. As if God needed to be contained in a manageable box that we could wrap our minds around and understand. Though it sometimes terrifies me, there is something I also love about the unknowingness of God. I don’t want to be able to grasp all of Him. I want there to always be something else outside my realm of understanding. I want Him to be so much more than I could ask or imagine. I want Him – no I need Him to be the God of miracles.

In the light of Hanukkah we see that everything is a miracle, that anything is possible, and that hope shines eternal.

And so each season, we open the first of the winter holiday boxes (this year really early!), bring out the Menorah, the candles, the blue plate with the star of David; we roast the chicken, stir the honeyed carrots, fry the latkes in the oil. And we light the lights.

I'm joining Simply Beth for her Three Word Wednesday link up and am looking forward to getting to know this circle of writers. For this link up, choose three words; share a post, photo, or scripture that highlights those three words; link up here; and share some encouragement and blog love with other writers.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Five Minute Friday - Fly

On Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend 5 collective minutes writing on a single prompt. It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week. This blessed, beautiful place where we open our hearts and let words and tears and the inner workings of our lives bleed and flow and dance across the virtual pages. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.

This Week: Fly

Go

It’s been four years. That’s a long time to be away. There is so much that I miss. But so much that I don’t. Did I read once, “you can never go home again?” We tried. It didn’t take. It didn’t take at all. Almost wrenched us out of orbital alignment and sometimes, there’s still the bitter copper taste of old blood and bad memory when we talk about it. But it’s a good place to be from.

It’s home. Where the heart is. And there is so much of my heart that is still there. So much that it hurts.

While I have planted my feet securely in the Pacific Northwest, my lungs breathe with the rhythm of the waves against the sand on Lanikai and my skin longs to feel the sweep of the trade winds coming off the Ko’olaus.

I have left roots in the islands that will never sever, no matter how long I am away. And though I sometimes struggle with the distance and what it means, there is part of me that will always find my way home there.

It is an unfolding that is as easy as tumbled sheets and well-worn blankets, thin with age. The tension I consistently carry in my day-to-day somehow melts as I wrap myself in family, familiar scents, sounds, and the food that I cannot let go of – keeping numbers of long-forgotten and closer restaurants in my phone just because I can. My husband says even my language loosens; my cadence slows; and though I’ll swear to you I don’t have an accent of any kind, he grins to hear me order items and hold conversations with people who suddenly sound more like me than I thought they did.

There is no trans-Pacific highway, even in my dreams, but I’ll be on a concourse soon enough: t minus just a few days now. Shivering in the early morning here because in less than six hours, I’ll step out there and smell that singular mix of salt spray, plumeria, and tarmac that lets me know I’m home. The only way to get there is to fly – I’ve got to get on that plane and go. I’m not excited yet – I never am until the last minute.

And then the last minutes will vanish like candle smoke and I’ll forget all the worries and stresses that have been plaguing me and it will just be joy at the idea of being home. Seeing them and being in their arms and in the midst of their love. For that, I will fly.

Stop

A little sound of home that always takes me back:

How to Join
Want to know about Lisa Jo Baker, how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Let It Go (A Three Word Wednesday Post)

As I join up with the indomitable Beth for the Three Word Wednesday, there is only one person I’m writing to.  And it’s not you. Please feel free to eavesdrop here. Stop a while and be the fly on the wall. If you see yourself in these letters and phrases, go ahead, read them to yourself. But don’t think for one second that I’m writing them to you. If I could type and look in a mirror, I’d be doing just that.

I’m almost hesitant to bring it up – I don’t want cheers of encouragement in this endeavor; I don’t want any “you go girls” or any such nonsense because frankly, it will just frustrate me more. I just need to say this as a reminder. Because I’m trying to be a better reflection. And a better tree. And a better mother. A better woman. A better human.

Let It Go

Have you seen how many times I’ve written that here? Want to guess how many times it’s actually happened? What is it about the clinging to things had; things past; things remembered that makes the release so difficult. In my experience, the things I need to let go of that I’m clinging tightest too are not the admirable, honorable, desirable qualities and characteristics that I want to strive for. They’re the little things that I think everyone else has forgotten. When they’re cheering for the accomplishments and focusing on the achievements, they forget to look under the bed and in the back corners of the closets to the things that I’ve tucked away – hoping that no one will notice.

Let It Go

Sometimes it's burdens. Somehow I’m arrogant enough to think I can carry them alone; stumble along in the dark and the cold on my own strength; searching in the dark with my own understanding.

Sometimes it's regret. Wanting to live fully in the moment, but realizing that I left something undone; something unsaid, someone unattended to. I pause in the momentum and look back. And the might have been is overwhelming.

Sometimes it's expectations. My own. The ones I think others have of me. These millstones I choose to pick up – I don’t even know how to stop. For all my carefree attitude and dismissal of what others think, expectations still haunt me.

Sometimes it's someone else's junk that you have absolutley no control over. I am the oldest child. A big sister. A mom. I have been the caretaker, the peacemaker, the problem-solver, the stratgizer, the fixer-upper, (Lord help me) the doormat, and the glue - all in the name of making it work out. For everyone else. It has been bred into me and feels like it is in my nature to do this. I don't know if I can do it anymore. For everyone. Because that's the scope I tend to look at when I see the problems. Everyone.

Let It Go

It is weary work to carry the burden of expectation, regret, the assumption of strength. We were never meant to do this alone.

Come to me, all of you who are weary and over-burdened, and I will give you rest! Put on my yoke and learn from me. For I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. 
Matthew 11:28-30 Phillips NT

I feel there is more to be said, and I may pick it up another day. But to be honest, the weight of this is bearing down, and I and trying desperately take my own advice.

Let It Go

I'm joining Simply Beth for her Three Word Wednesday link up and am looking forward to getting to know this circle of writers. For this link up, choose three words; share a post, photo, or scripture that highlights those three words; link up here; and share some encouragement and blog love with other writers.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Behind the Scenes - A Sushi Date (Four Years in the Making)

We had made a deal to go out for sushi. It was going to be our thing. We talked about it, planned it, and determined that it was going to happen. Four (or five, but who’s counting) years later, it actually happened.

Some friendships are predicated on time spent together. They grow by the bonding and investment of time spent, projects worked on, experiences shared. I have friendships like this and they are priceless. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But every once in a rare while something else comes along. Like Kristen.

We met when our kids were in preschool together – her youngest and my only – not even in the same class. We sat on the Board together, volunteered in the classroom, and participated in the fundraising events. Casual conversations led to discoveries of things we had in common: our love of writing, reading, music, certain specific British shows, and sushi. We became Facebook friends and emailed occasionally – we even shared a book group for the length of several novels. But the one thing we never seemed to have much of was time. Time together, just for us, just as friends, to do that thing that friends do together – grow.

And yet we did. Through the emailed conversations, quick requests for prayer, catching up over curious questions and curious wine at book group, our friendship grew. She has always been someone with whom I felt camaraderie with; someone with whom I could take down the veil; someone to whom I could show the me that I don’t always let out of the box. And I never really questioned it. It was a gift.

Tonight at dinner, it was a gift again. The conversation was more than serpentine or rabbit trail. It was positively Rubik’s cube – as we bounced from one topic to another pinging from the hilarity of the sushi selection into the depths of soul-wrenching that family can bring to the “why” of celebrations that are not necessarily connected with our history. I know there were tears in both our eyes at some point during the course of the night and that at more than one point I laughed out loud like I have not laughed in a very long time. At one point, the conversation sparked into marketing strategy that got me started on a road almost I’d forgotten (almost forgotten how much I loved it), and I looked at her and said, “I have no idea where that came from.” A very good friend will do that for you.

I feel like I’ve been telling stories of friends and friendships lately, and these stories are important. Not just because of how friendships can sustain us and encourage us through the changing tides of our lives, but because not all friendships look the same. They don’t start the same, they don’t evolve the same, and they don’t end the same. They are as varied and variegated as the people we are in relationship with, and that variation is so important to cultivating who we are and who we become.

Is there a special friendship in your life that has grown deep without the traditional watering? Cherish it. Do you have others that you see around you that you wish were more? Invest in them. We are more together than we are apart, bound tighter in our faith and knowledge of Him when we have others who walk with us along the way, and will simply laugh louder and longer when we have someone to share our secrets and dreams with. Friendship. This is a gift.

I'm linking up with Crystal Stine and company again today; joining the Behind the Scenes link up –  where we show those photos – but tell the real story behind them. The sneak peek behind the scenes, a look past the edges of the photo to the real life behind it.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Five Minute Friday - Tree

On Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend 5 collective minutes writing on a single prompt. It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week. This blessed, beautiful place where we open our hearts and let words and tears and the inner workings of our lives bleed and flow and dance across the virtual pages. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.  

This Week: Tree

Go

I watch her growing. Every day it’s a little bit more. A little bit better. A little bit more than I’m ready for. There are dips and lapses – of course there are – what else would growing up be if not a challenge to rise and rise again.

Tonight, she slipped up and something not-so-little-girlish slipped out from between her lips. Her eyes met mine in the dark; in the rearview mirror; she saw my eyebrow go up – that Spock-esque look that took me years in front of a mirror in junior high to master. “But I caught it,” she cried, “I changed it.” I nod. “But I know what you were saying anyway, right?” She slumps. Tears fill those eyes that, even in this dim light, I know twinkle green. They threaten to spill over. I sigh.

“You are more your mother’s daughter sometimes than I wish you were.”

She rubs her head soft on my shoulder. I feel the whisper of still-baby fine hair tickle my neck. “What’s that mean, Mama?” her voice is still soft and careful. I explain that I know where that not-so-girlish word came from. She’s heard it from me – heard me toss that phrase out before, I’m sure more often than I’d like to count. I tell her that it’s a choice she has to make, but that it’s part of my fault too. Can’t ask her to not do something she’s seeing right in front of her.

“How does all this mean that I’m yours and you know it?”

I laugh – that’s almost too easy. I tell her I would know it because she’s sassy and spunky and can’t possibly belong to anyone else being like that. Suddenly, she’s all little girl again, dissolving into laughter in the back seat trying to decipher exactly what spunky means.

You hear the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

No kidding. My little apple landed on my roots. My crumply, wrinkly, messed up, dirty roots. I wrestle daily with this dilemma – how to be the kind of tree that I want her to fall near and grow up under. How can I be a mother and still be such a mess? Right – still human. Still vulnerable. Still in need of a Savior.

I’m grateful every day that I have One who went to a tree and hung there, bound by nothing more than love surrendered so that in my crumply, wrinkly, dirty mess, I can turn to Him again, and again for mercy and grace. And the lessons I need to raise this apple up into her own little tree.

Stop

Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord.
He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream,
and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green,
and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.

Jeremiah 17:7-8 ESV

How to Join
Want to know about Lisa Jo Baker, how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Listen To Me (A Three Word Wednesday Post)

He moves in my words, and although I’m a bit overwhelmed and blessed to learn when I’ve ministered to others, or when the words He gives me have touched them, I’m moved and humbled even more when it’s me He calls again – so often with my own words – and beckons me to learn a new lesson. Or shall we say a lesson again.

It is the apex at which I most often break. That which would remain if you boiled down the question: what is the one thing that might make her behave the most like a mad woman? The one thing that will upend me when I can hold on with patience for all else.

Listen to me

I have never claimed to be a patient person – it is beyond an Achilles Heel. This is not a tendon – it is possibly an entire limb. My devastating weakness tied into one of the things with which I struggle most. I am impatient and I am often angry. Simmering beneath the surface of my daily calm – that part is not insincere. I am generally quiet and collected and content. Until you push just hard enough.

And they all push

They don’t listen. This is life. It happens. I get that. I don’t pretend to be the center of some grandiose universe; expecting everyone to revolve around me. I don’t mark time for others. I don’t measure the steps of those near me. But if I ask you to hang up your clothes, remember to not show my child a particular movie, or for the love of Pete, flush the toilet so all the junk goes down, I rather expect you’ll do it. Especially that last one.

Time to look in the mirror

As I stood fuming in the women’s bathroom at work; practicing my yoga breathing and ticking off, with growing annoyance, the list of “why can’t they just listen tos” that had filled my last twenty-four hours, I felt one of His gentle nudges. I wish I could say I responded with immediate grace and humility, but it was more along the lines of “really Lord, because all I’m asking for is a fresh bowl. And clothes not on the floor.” He pauses. He is silent.

Be still and know

Not three words, but the God of the universe doesn’t have to conform to our rules now, does He? Echoes of what I’ve so often said, “I just asked you to …” “I just wish you would …” “Why won’t you just listen to me?” How many times have I read and heard the voice of God with simple requests asking me for something. “If you love me …” How often do I instead, casually careen through my life; not paying attention; not listening. And how many times in His infinite grace, wisdom, and patience, has He remained in place, waiting without time for me to come back. Listen to me.

Love me with all your passion and intelligence

Love others as well as you love yourself

Be generous to the poor

Do what is fair and just to your neighbor

Be compassionate and loyal in your love

Be still and know

Listen to me

He promises peace, wisdom, and a Helper who will never leave to those who love Him, keep His commands, and listen. There is refuge and strength for those who are still and quiet. There is redemption from a steadfast God for those who love justice and mercy in humility. How is this not worth one moment of stopping my catechism of wants and silencing the lists of my desires?

Okay Lord.

You got me.

I am listening


I'm joining Simply Beth for her Three Word Wednesday link up (so happy to be here, finally!) and am looking forward to getting to know this circle of writers. For this link up, choose three words; share a post, photo, or scripture that highlights those three words; link up here; and share some encouragement and blog love with other writers.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Passages quoted from Matthew 22:37, Proverbs 28:27, Micah 6:8 MSG, Psalm 46:10 NIV

Behind the Scenes - Online Friendship in Real Life

Four months ago, I wrote a Behind the Scenes piece about getting organized and cleaning up – wonderful preparations for a room that was far overdue for an overhaul while getting ready to meet a new friend. Months turned into weeks. Weeks turned into days. And before I knew it, it was hours before this in real life meeting was about to take place.

From the moment we discussed the idea – meeting up after her trip to Allume and attending Women of Faith together – and I threw out, “I would love to have you come and stay with us while you’re in town,” I was excited.

Karrilee & my daughter at her school

And then I was terrified.

I may write freely and with expression; I may strive for transparency here on this pixelated canvass; I may do my best to peel back my layers, lay down masks, and share the experiences that have changed my life in order to give others hope, but none of that changes the fact that I am an intensely private person with a carefully guarded world.

I have written here about my own challenges with community, and struggles with relationships with woman that have almost wrenched me undone. I am slow and careful, even with those who are near to my heart. I have boundaries. I’ll laugh and say this: let’s be honest, I probably have issues. Voluntary new people are hard for me.

I had hopes this would be different. She was the first one to say hello when I ventured into the Five Minute Friday Twitter party. Figuring out that we lived in the same general region provided an instant connection for me to grasp, and we continued to have conversations on Twitter and on our blogs. Those conversations led to friending each other on Facebook and more connections. As we wrote, we found one thing after another that we had in common and #kindredspirits became a favorite hashtag.

In the days leading up to her arrival, I tried to pack my days full of preparation so that I couldn’t dwell on any nervousness or overanalyzing (because that’s what my brain will do). On the big day, her plane arrived a little early and the text, we’re here in baggage claim, was a gift in surprise, because instead of a casual drive up to the airport with time to kill (and overanalyze things)  I had to leap into my car and focus on arriving at the car lot in one piece.

Can I tell you that saying hello in person and falling into a hug was the most natural thing – as if I were picking her up at the airport for the fortieth time, not the first? As we drove back home, the conversation flowed so naturally it felt like breathing. Even introducing her to my not-quite-perfect home didn’t feel as difficult as I imagined it might have.

She has a family structure similar to my own, a husband and just one girl, and my girl fell head over heels for her (that’s the two of them outside her school in the picture above). We enjoyed the conference together, learning, listening to women we’d been waiting so long to hear, worshiping in His presence.

I don’t know if every encounter with an online friend will feel like this – a seamless blending where it seems our very heartbeats slip into a shared rhythm – but I’d like to think this is what I’ll strive for as I do this again; what you can strive for as you meet your own writing friends in real life.

This community we participate in, it opens wide and welcomes all. It has its ebbs and flows – how can it not? It is only comprised of vulnerable, human women, complete in all their flaws. But between those ebbs and flows, God’s grace weaves in; twining itself about and through our hearts to wrap over and cover those misteps that might occur. His grace also wraps us close to knit our hearts and allows us to share the gift of His words and His spirit when we come together in His name to praise, grow, and build community together.

Karrilee, you have been an incredible gift to me this year, and I am so happy and blessed to have had the gift of meeting you in real life and sharing time with you. Of course, now that it’s happened, I’m just plain greedy and want more. I stare at the road signs for I-90 and dream of heading over the pass – just keep driving past Snoqualmie to the other side to see my new friend. All in His time. Until then, we’ll stay connected in all our technological ways, and I will continue to be blessed by your friendship and your encouragement. Love you friend ♥

I'm linking up with Crystal Stine and company again today; joining the Behind the Scenes link up –  where we show those photos – but tell the real story behind them. The sneak peek behind the scenes, a look past the edges of the photo to the real life behind it.

My friend Karrilee blogs at Abiding Love, Abounding Grace. She consistently opens my eyes to new truths about God and reminds me to celebrate the life He has given by Speaking Life, Being Love, and Shining On. You should visit her. Immediately. I'm so serious about that!

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

For Mercy's Sake

Way back in the warmer weather of August, I saw an invitation on (in)courage that made me want to leap. They were inviting writers and bloggers to join together to raise funds for an incredible project called Mercy House Kenya.

In 2010, Mercy House was founded by a woman who had been sponsored as a child through Compassion International and who had completed their leadership program. Maureen Owino was 27, single, and determined to offer an alternative to help young women in her country who were seeking abortions because of unwanted pregnancies that occurred when they were forced into prostitution to support their families.

Maureen connected with blogger, Kristen Welch, during Kristen’s 2010 trip to Kenya, and the two have been working in tandem to support this ministry ever since. Maureen is executive director in Kenya while Kristen and her family work to raise money and awareness here in the US.

The young women in the Rehma program (rehema means mercy in Swahili) receive prenatal and post-natal care, excellent nutrition, counseling, education, and spiritual guidance. They are trained in marketable skills that will allow them to support themselves in their community.

When I first became aware of this opportunity to get involved, I was so excited and looked at the five phases of the project to see which one would be the best match. It didn’t take too long to come to that conclusion. Phase 4, Advance Mercy, was about providing a computer lab to enhance the education of the girls, and since my non-blogging day-job has me working in technology in education, I knew this was going to be my phase.

Except it’s not now.

You see, today, November 11, was supposed to be the launch day for the Phase 4 team. Today was supposed to be the day that 17 bloggers who hadn’t written before would share the story of Mercy House and invite their readers to join in the support of Mercy House and a new computer lab for its residents.

photo by Bess Brownlee

But the Spirit has been moving in the hearts of readers, writers, and those interested in doing His good work here and now, and Phase 4 was funded several weeks ago in mid-October! In just 40 days, the (in)courage community and its readers raised over $21,000 for our sisters in Kenya for a needed van, classroom, generator, and computer lab.

So what’s left?

Phase 5 is a really big deal. And it officially kicks off in December. Because we’d love to give these girls a truly amazing Christmas present. We’d like to help give them a new home. A second home will allow the Mercy House staff to expand its reach, and in the future will help house the offices, classrooms, and labs.

It’s a huge project. Over $46,000 is needed. But you’d be surprised what can happen when we moms, sisters, daughters, and God’s women come together to accomplish something. I joined Lisa Jo Baker and some other friends last month for project Laundry Day, and in less than 8 hours we’d raised over $5,000 for a laundry facility in South Africa. For most of us – it was about the cost of a container of laundry soap.

This is more

This is more than a laundry facility; more than a van; more than a computer lab. Frankly, it’s more than a house. This is an investment in the lives of people who don’t have a tenth of the resources we do on our lowest day.

I recently listened to a favorite author passionately exhort and remind us that we are the palace dwellers – those of us who have been blessed to be born into these North American homes. We have been truly blessed, but we have been placed here for a reason. We are where we are for a time such as this – not to make an impression, but to make a difference (thank you Ann Voskamp).

This is a time to make a difference.

photo by Bess Brownlee

Whether you are a mother or father, daughter or son, wife or husband, you can take a moment and make a difference for people who Christ loves and calls the least of these. Don’t think that you can’t participate because you don’t have thousands or hundreds to give. If you have something to give, it will make a difference. 

I have six words from Micah 6:8 tacked up on my bulletin board, six words that next to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul. and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself” encompass much of what we are called to do while here on this plane: Do Justice. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly. I believe that joining this Mercy House project will make an unfathomable difference in the lives of these young women. I hope you do too.

You can donate through the link on the left side of my blog. Or learn more and donate through the Pure Charity site here.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Five Minute Friday - Truth

You’ll have to forgive me. This is not the usual Five Minute Friday for me. It’s been a challenging week on a lot of fronts. The ticker tape in my brain has not shut off for days. I’ve been processing a lot. And it’s coming out here – for better or for worse. And I might be breaking a rule or two because I’m sharing one post in two link ups. I don’t know if you’re supposed to do that. But I’m really good at breaking rules, so here I go. I’m not a rebel for nothing. Breathe with me.

This Week: Truth

Go

These last four days, my heart has been so full and tight it hurts to breathe; hurts to inhale. You’d think there’d be more freedom – more of the exhale – I’m coming off a week of wonderful. A time of connecting with women friends who feed my spirit; a long-awaited meeting with a writing friend that was amazing in the fact that it didn’t feel like a first time meeting; the opportunity to attend a conference and sit at the feet of speakers I have been longing to hear – whose words rocked me and challenged me – always pointing back to Him. So where was my exhale?

Instead, the week has felt like a trek through a mud-worn path amidst the flinging of rotten fruit. No one flinging at me per say – this is not a pity party. I am not feeling attacked. But I feel as if I am witnessing them; and my mind is scaling, and calculating, and problem solving. This is what the flip side of my creative right brain does. It crunches. It evaluates, it assesses, it strategizes.  

And what happens when two worlds collide? When the two parts of my brain slam into each other? Right spinning creative that has been praising, praying, and glorying in the revelation of God’s answers and His work here on earth fumbling mightily into the left whirling analytic that has been watching words rise and fall – many in His name – calling for one thing or another; warning against, cautioning against, advising against.

Holy God, where are you in the midst of this storm?

I couldn’t write. I couldn’t find three words to string together this week to join a friend I’ve been longing to write with for ages.

And then I did.

Give me Jesus.

All things fall away and this is all that matters. Who He is. What He said. What He did. What He is doing. Because believe me, He is still doing. Every. Single. Day. And all discussions aside, I think this is why:

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.
John 3:16-21 ESV

This is the truth that I know.

You can have all this world.
Give me Jesus

Stop

How to Join
Want to know about Lisa Jo Baker, how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

Simply Beth's Three Word Wednesday is similar in that you link up and encourage one another, but you choose the three words and share your post, an image, photo, or scripture. Anything that highlights the three words you have chosen. I'm looking forward to more.

If I haven't completely frightened you off, I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation! 

A Lesson from the Word: Psalm 96

Beautiful fall leaves not too far from my home. As we were driving by, the yellow and red

together caught my eye and I asked my husband to turn around so I could stomp through

the wet grass to capture these gorgeous colors.

The past five days have been a whirlwind of activity. I’ve been preparing the house (with much appreciated help from my family) to host a blogging friend that I’ve met now for the very first time in real life (we’ve been writing in the same circles for about a year). I’ve had a chance to spend time with several of my girlfriends that I haven’t connected with in a while. And I had the chance to attend the Women of Faith: God Can Do Anything event that was here in my city.

So many thoughts are swirling through my head – especially coming right off the 31 Days Writing challenge in October. I made it all the way through – every day.

I’m sure I’ll be processing all of these things over the next few weeks, but one thing that keeps coming back to mind over and over is the praise and worship time from the conference.

I’ll be the first to tell you that it’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. It’s contemporary musical worship and it’s loud. It thunders and it shakes the arena/auditorium when it gets going, but also whispers with delicacy of a small chapel in meditative moments.

It was the thunder that got me though, because there’s nothing like the sound of hundreds of voices crying out to God together, hearts united, hands lifted. The song soars holy, holy, hallelujah to the heavens on the beat of the bass drum and I wonder how that will sound when magnified by the voice of creation someday. When the forests, trees, rivers, and oceans sing and shout for the God of creation, how amazing will that sound be?

I'm joining again with Sarah from my online writing group, for her Sacro Speco (Sacred Space) linkup. Other images for inspiration will be there if you'd like to visit.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Five Minute Friday - Grace

If you had told me nine months ago when I first ventured into this Five Minute Friday escapade how delightfuly addicting it would be I’m not sure I would have believed you. If you had told me I would meet and become friends with some amazing women who I would never know except through the view of my laptop screen, I would have laughed and brushed your idea aside. If you had told me that those friendships would deepen and grow; that some of them would become as important as my real life relationships; that in nine months I’d be sitting across the table from a Five Minute Friday friend in my kitchen? Well, we’d have probably not been talking anymore.

But God is amazing and has His own plans that are far larger than mine. I have made tremendous friends through this wonderful online community and am thrilled to be sharing my kitchen table with one of those friends tonight. Can I tell you that this doesn’t feel like meeting someone for the first time? I feel like I’m saying hello to someone I’ve known for a while. Having Karrilee here tonight makes this kitchen into a sacred, shared space. I’m so blessed. This is the joy of this community at its best – finding and making friends that will become a real part of our lives – because of our shared faith. Because of His love.

Because no matter where we are; no matter what distance separates some or all of us, this is a fellowship of friends that gather here to write into the wee hours of the morning; then reading each others words and sharing encouragement as we go. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.

This Week: Grace

Go

This word tonight hits me hard. I’ve been writing so deep into the desert journey and so much of that space is intertwined with grace. Grace given and grace received. Lessons learned. Another step grown.

And yet, there are times – even now – when I feel like I’ve not learned a thing. When the edges around me that should have been softened and smoothed; rubbed to a finished shine by these experiences and glowing with grace – they’re still as hard and sharp as ever.

Just tonight, stepping to the door – the door that wasn’t supposed to be knocked on or had its bell rung because, hello, the light’s off – opening the door to small voices calling “Halloween” instead of “trick or treat” and I have a flash of irritation and annoyance. Why are you here? Why don’t you know the code that says don’t come when the light is off. Why ….

Why am I sitting here with a large bowl of candy if I didn’t think anyone was going to come by? Why can’t I smile kindly into small faces that are reveling in the pure joy of wandering about for candy and just give a kind greeting back? Without feeling that pang of exasperation. It’s such a small thing.

And it’s the small things that undo me. How many times to I stumble through my day tripping over opportunities for grace to abound and instead fall flat with impatience or anger. I am more ungraceful in my living than I would like to be and I am not proud of it.

My heart’s desire is to be an extension of the grace that was given freely to me – because so much has been given. I want to live my life in the grace by which we stand. Rejoicing and hoping and giving thanks in Him – the giver of all grace.

Stop

How to Join
Want to know about Lisa Jo Baker, how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Goodbye to You – Leaving the Desert

I am at the end of the desert again. It hardly seems possible. I feel like it was just two days ago I was desperately seeking encouragement from fellow writers for the unthinkable undertaking – wondering if it would be possible; wondering if this was something I could accomplish; feeling so much like He was guiding me in this direction; yet letting all my doubts and fears flow over me like water over polished rocks. Thank you for coming alongside with me.

This experiment of words, this retelling and recounting of the desert journey – it stripped me bare again. With over twenty-two thousand words I unfolded myself like I never thought possible to an audience that may or may not see this. I trust God to guide the readers here who need to see these words. And I am left with a similar feeling as before – when it was time to walk out of the desert.

I am not sure if I am ready to leave.

That may seem a strange thing – coming from a thirsty, tired, worn out desert wanderer. But here’s some of what echoes back to me from that time:

in quiet moments
i learned to love the desert.
found grace in the desert.
found the heart of my God in the desert.
found the voice that spoke to my soul
in times of need
and painful want.

there is so much want.
i want. we want. she wants.

i want to divest myself of all the wants
and simply be.

to discover the purity of
my mitochondrial existence
that comes
when want dies
when i die
when it is no longer i who live.

surrender

it's that simple.
so simple.
letting go.

There is truth in this: things are simpler in the desert. When everything is ripped away and you are left with barely necessities in your hands – and hands holding family – when you literally look to God for your daily bread and daily breath, your communion with Him is tight and close and your walk is intimate. You are at your Father’s feet and in His presence with every inhale and exhale – seeking His face and His will as you make your way through plains and passages; placing one foot in front of the other; just moving forward. When you come to the edge; standing there looking out into the rest of the world – full of promise and bright fulfillment – it’s hard not to see it as clutter for a moment. Noise. Distraction. Necessary interference that comes between your heart and the heart of God. How will you hear Him without the stillness of the desert to focus and hone your listening skills? And then I remember again:

it is the desert
and the still small voice
in the midst of the storm
that will quiet me
and sustain me
through whatever's next on this passage.

Part of the desert journey is learning to listen. Part of that intimate fellowship is knowing His voice so keenly that you can discern it in and amongst the chatter and noise of the everyday outside the desert. Because we must leave. It is not our call to stay. Our call is to go and to tell. To share. It is the sharing of ourselves, of our tangle, of our messy, everyday stories that brought us into the desert and the ones we lived through in the desert – this is what we need to tell now. This is what I need to tell now. Because through the telling and the sharing and the revealing of our hearts and the work that He is doing in our hearts; His healing; His miracles; His grace – this is how the world will be changed.

This is part of my secret that I get to tell now. Now that you have read my words and heard my stories. I still haven’t given up hope that I can change the world. I don’t believe that it’s going to be in a large and mighty way – I don’t believe that’s my call. God knows me too well for that. He’s taking this desert walking woman with a passion for words and story and asking her to tell, share, and reveal in small moments and small ways. And somehow in His hands, this is going to change something. This is going to change everything.

It’s going to change my world.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Want more in the 31 Days of Lessons in the Desert series? Just click here! During the 31 Days Challenge, I'll be using the hashtags #desertjourney and #inspirationalandfaith80 if you'd like to join in or follow along. Let's continue the conversation!

Growing – Not Just Going

“Ah-ha” moments often come out of the blue and catch us off guard; smack us upside the head; right-size our world. I had a revelation like that deep in my desert time. I was reading Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wind in the Door for the hundredth (two-hundredth? three hundredth?) time. My favorite author. Her popular children’s series. The following books perhaps slightly less known that the first title, A Wrinkle in Time. Same characters. Same idea. Good vs. evil. And this time, with a cherubim – and that one not how you might imagine it at all. In the final part – the one that always grabs me up tight by the throat – Meg is desperate to save her brother’s life and must convince the farandole inside one of his mitochondria to deepen and accept its role as a mature fara. While this plot point standing alone may not make sense to the unread, what I want you to hear is the idea of growing deeper.

Deepening may have been one of my most important lessons from the desert. When the realization sunk in that I needed to be listening and learning in the desert. Stop being angry. Stop flailing about. Be still. Hear what He had to say. This was my turn to deepen and sink my roots into His heart and into the experience of what He was teaching me. This was my crossroads.

This revelation changed everything for me. Although I was sometimes still impatient and frustrated, I looked at the desert with renewed purpose; with eyes opened to new truths – the most important truth: He was going to renew me in the desert and make the changes in me that had been a long time coming. The changes that would transform my life. All the lessons that had come before shifted into focus with my transformed view.

There will be a tipping point for you in your desert if you allow the Lord to work in your life. I understand that in the beginning, it doesn’t seem like there can be purpose in the dryness or a reason for the suffering. But all these things work together to shape us and create us into the person that He has in mind – the person He wants us to be.

Maybe you’re standing at your crossroads today. Is it time for you to deepen? Is it time to release the anger and be still for just a moment?

Allow yourself to take time in His presence and ask for the reason behind your journey. He is with you here and has placed you in this time for a specific purpose. God will not leave you alone on this journey, and He will not leave you without answers, if only you will seek His face.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation! Want more in the 31 Days of Lessons in the Desert series? Just click here!