Category

All the things

Radical Given-ness in the midst of scarcity.

By | All the things, The Hub


Oh- hey friends.

Have you ever felt like you have nothing left to give?

I giggled when I typed that.  I know…an offensive question at this point in time.  Don’t be mad it was more a rhetorical one anyway.

We all feel some sort of stretch right now.  Most of us feel stretched past what we feel we can handle.  Most of us feel as if we have nothing we could possibly give right now.

I mean I don’t know about you but just putting regular clothes on feels like an Olympic sport on most days…oh that’s just me…mmmmk.

Well, in God’s Kingdom, which is ALWAYS upside-down, there’s room to give even when we feel like we’re coasting on fumes.

There’s this quirky little story in the New Testament, told by Paul, that most of us have probably whizzed by without even noticing.

This story, short as it may be, holds so much truth and a resounding call that we desperately need right now.

Let’s look at it together  (2 Corinthians 8:1-4 MSG):

“Now, friends, I want to report on the surprising and generous ways in which God is working in the churches in Macedonia province. Fierce troubles came down on the people of those churches, pushing them to the very limit. The trial exposed their true colors: They were incredibly happy, though desperately poor. The pressure triggered something totally unexpected: an outpouring of pure and generous gifts. I was there and saw it for myself. They gave offerings of whatever they could—far more than they could afford!—pleading for the privilege of helping out in the relief of poor Christians…”

Paul was reporting to the Church of Corinth about a rag-tag group of believers who were under extreme affliction.  In fact, “the severe trial that the Macedonian churches experienced was of a sort that left them in a condition of extreme poverty. The phrase is literally “down-to-the-depth poverty.”* 

Circumstantially, the Macedonians were in shambles.  They had very little in their hands to give.
Impoverished and stretched by adversity.

Yet, we see them here held as an example.  An example of what? Not an example of surviving their circumstances.  Not an example of fear. Not an example of bargaining their way out of a season of life they hated..

They are held high as an example of GENEROSITY. 

Generosity and poverty don’t belong in the same sentence.  The two words don’t seem to be friends, in my opinion.

But in God’s Kingdom, generosity can dwell inside of poverty.

The Macedonians are used as an example not simply because they gave, or even that they gave out of their abundance, but because they gave when they had nothing to give.

“The Macedonian churches are a testimony that it is possible not merely to experience joy but to have it “overflow” in the midst of trials. Even more, just as persecution did not take away from their joyfulness, neither did poverty diminish their ability to be generous.” * 

How could they have given with such generosity under such great pressure??

Well Paul tells us… (2 Corinthians 8:5-7 MSG)

“This was totally spontaneous, entirely their own idea, and caught us completely off guard. What explains it was that they had first given themselves unreservedly to God and to us. The other giving simply flowed out of the purposes of God working in their lives.”

What came first?  They gave themselves UNRESERVEDLY to God.

The other giving simply flowed out of the purposes of God working in their lives.

The natural byproduct of giving themselves to God was generosity in the midst of scarcity.

It was not a heavy burden for them to be generous.  It simply flowed from their given-ness to God.

They lived given to Him, and as a result, the overflow they experienced impacted everyone around them.

Friends, we are called, we – His body, to live RADICALLY during this season.

We have the ability to live given to God and given to others, even in the midst of our own great need and affliction..

We must look at the “shut-down” and the “stay-home” messaging and choose to remember that the need has not, in fact, shut down.  The world is still hurting, still in desperate need and the vulnerable before are even more vulnerable now.

Can we, like the Macedonians, give ourselves UNRESERVEDLY to God, turn our eyes outward and GIVE IN THE FACE OF ADVERSITY.  

Give when it doesn’t make sense to give. 
Give because we remember that the need is still great. 

Faith in this season is sowing when we only have a few seeds left to sow.

That radical generosity WILL reap a harvest, not only in our own lives, but in the lives of the most vulnerable among us.

Let’s LIVE GIVEN and GIVE.

 

Bible Commentary Reference:
https://www.biblegateway.com/resources/commentaries/IVP-NT/2Cor/Macedonian-Believers-Model

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Re-Branded

By | All the things

Friends,

We are back from a month in Vegas.

Let’s just say the Hammett’s WENT HARD in Las Vegas, Nevada.  We left no stone unturned on the list of things suggested to do while in Vegas.  We searched the internet, far and wide, and compiled a list that we were committed to tackling.  We would leave nothing on that list undone.

And that is what we did.

Here’s a sampling:

  1. Ate our way through the entire city and ate food from every “category” of food that there is… Chinese, Italian, American, French… and so on.  All are precious in His sight so we showed no bias.
  2. We went to 3 Cirque Shows. THREE.  As if 1 is not life-altering enough.  We felt like 3 would be a better pace.
  3. Ziplined over “Old Vegas” like a bunch of fools.  As they strapped us in and lowered the platform and we hung in mid-air like superman it hit me…”I may die this way”.  Worth it.
  4. Went to the Hoover Dammmmmmmmm it was cool.  🙂  Survived a sand storm while there.  Barely.  (this one wasn’t a desired list item but it pushed it’s way onto the list. We had no choice)
  5. Rode a roller-coaster in a casino. (Was sore for 4 days because mid-thirties)
  6. Paid an un-Godly amount of money to take my littles to a pool that was half-pool half-sand-bottom-beach.  We were such lush’s at this pool.  Poolside food and drink…put it on my tab.  Brent was delighted when said tab came across our bank account.  🙂
  7. Half of our fam went to the Grand Canyon.  Biggest hole in the ground in the US with no guardrails…me and Esther stayed home b/c you know… Esther.  Enough said.
  8. Played penny slots because Vegas and I never lost a cent… Brent not so much.  I didn’t make any but I didn’t lose any so that makes me a winner.
  9. Ate a $15.00 slice of cake with a glass of milk while sitting in a chair made to look like a bunny.
  10. Got Tatted in Sin City.  Rebels I know.
Photo proof of #9 and also a
good summary of how I felt about Vegas.

I’ll stop there.  Guys, we made Vegas our full time J.O.B.

But we weren’t there just to check off that list.

Our family rolled into Vegas to do a really BIG thing with really BIG implications.

We got the honor of launching Purchased: Vegas, a ministry modeled after our work here in Shreveport, in the epicenter of it all, the city that is pace-setter of the sex industry.  We spent time on the ground with the Hope Church Vegas team scheming and planning and laying the groundwork for a restorative, Jesus-centered response to the sex-industry and Human Trafficking in Vegas.

Talk about a bucket list item?!  The honor of a lifetime.

One afternoon both my bucket-list-o-fun and God’s purposes for us to be in Vegas converged in a moment so sacred I will remember it forever.

And my favorite thing?  It happened in a tattoo shop.  Speaks directly to my little rebel soul when God shows up somewhere dirty and does something so Holy it could only be Him.


We were sitting in the tattoo lobby waiting our turn.  We were there to be tattooed by Eric, that’s all we knew.  Talk about a risk to walk sight unseen into a shop and meet a person for the first time who 10 minutes later will put something on your body that you will NEVER be able to get rid of.  No biggie.

As we waited I was intrigued by Eric.  I watched him move around the shop preparing for our tattoos, drawing our designs, cleaning his station and doing his quirky rituals that seemed like an old routine for him.  He was also interacting with the other tattooists (that’s probably not what they’re called but I’m not cool enough to know the proper term).  There was something different about him.  He had a softness, a compassion to him.  But he also was able to hold his own in that tattoo shop.  He wasn’t awkward.  He didn’t stick out like a sore thumb… but there was something in him that I could recognize.  Something that felt familiar.  I knew He knew Jesus.

It was our turn and he called us back.

I started my regular tattoo ritual of getting overly chatty and requesting a bottle of water and “is it hot in here?” “sorry I talk a lot when I’m nervous….” “This is gonna hurt right??”

I mean…just all the space-fillers when I’m nervy.

He was kind to me.  Not annoyed.  Listened to all my requests and giggled to himself when Brent said, “I’m sorry, she’s nervous.”

No I’m not gah Dad.  Just kidding yes I was.

“So, what’s your tattoo about?  It’s unique so I imagine there’s a story to it?”

I explained that we had adopted our second daughter from China with an un-repaired bi-lateral cleft lip and palate.  I told him that I had always wanted a tattoo that represented her.  We call her QueenE so a crown was fitting, but I wanted it to be cracked and stitched up.

Royally Repaired.  That’s my QueenE.

He listened intently, even set aside his tools and leaned in, giving me his full attention.  He asked good questions and was moved by the story of both of my girls.

“Me and my wife want to adopt.”

He opened the door so I kicked it down…

“Are you a Christian?”

He looked at me for a second and giggled again, “Yes…are you?”

We chatted about our faith for a bit and then he asked me, “So what are y’all doing out here in Vegas?”

I explained Purchased to him and walked him through what the ministry does and how it helps in the world of Human Trafficking. (You should learn about it too…www.thehubministry.com…shameless plug)

He shifted a bit as I talked and I could tell I had struck something that he cared about.

“You know…before I learned about human trafficking and what all the girls went through and how their pimps treated them…” he hesitated, ” I unknowingly branded 3 women for their pimp.  I didn’t know exactly what was going on.  I remember feeling like there was something wrong with it but I didn’t know what it was so I just did my job.  Then I learned about the branding process and…” he trailed off.

**Pimps will often tattoo a symbol or name on their women as a sort of marking or name-tag that tells other pimps she is taken.**

I could feel the weight of his regret as he talked.

“Well,  we’re actually looking for someone to be our go-to for tattoo coverups.  When women come into the program for Purchased we’d like to offer a tattoo cover-up session so that we can physically show them that they no longer belong to their pimp anymore….Would you like to be our guy?”

“What?  Are you serious??”

I explained to him how special it would be to me if it was him.

“Of course.  Man…yeah…that would be rad…”  I could tell he was searching for the words to communicate the meaning behind this moment.

We exchanged numbers and as we were leaving I said… “Would it be weird if I asked you for a hug?”

Friends…the answer is always YES if you are ASKING SOMEONE TO HUG THEM it is weird… You asking them is weird therefore the hug is weird…especially in a gnarly tattoo shop.

“I’ve heard I’m a great hugger…” he said and he gave me a huge bear hug.

“This was not an accident,” I said teary-eyed as we left.  He agreed.


It is SO.LIKE.GOD. to take our mess ups, the accidental ways we fall short or the paths we go down unknowingly and use them for His redemptive work.

When we present our rags to him…because let’s face it that’s all we’ve got…he uses those rags to clean up the world.

Our mess flipped upside down and used for His purposes.

He doesn’t just use the good parts of us: our accomplishments and accolades.

His delight is to use the parts of us that smell like a dirty tattoo shop, the things we did before we knew better that we’d never do again now that we know; the things we hide in the background of our lives and the regrets we maintain.

He is EAGER to take them from us and use them to cover someone else’s brokenness.

What we feel we’ve done that can’t be undone is suddenly rebranded in God’s economy.

Rebranded people sent into the world to fix it with an arsenal of rebranded brokenness to serve as our tools.


Want some good ole scripture to back this up?

Isaiah 64:6
Revelation 21:5
Ecclesiastes 3:11

 

WHITE GIRL MACY GRAY

By | All the things

I was halfway through watching one of my faves Macy Gray in a new music video when the thought crossed my mind, “I want hair like hers,” and just as quickly as I thought I wanted it I thought, “I’m going to get hair like hers.”  From want to execution,  the jump was quick.

 

Never mind the fact that I am all the way white…and Macy is not.  This didn’t present itself as an issue in my mind.

Step one would be to find an off-book, under the radar hair dresser.  I knew a proper-above-board hair dresser would never agree to giving a white girl an afro perm.  I needed someone with grit.  A back-alley-type girl who wasn’t afraid to do something bold….dumb is the word I now know in hindsight would be better placed here…but in the moment… I was feelin’ bold.

2 days later.  It was done.  I had a HUGE frizzy, white-girl version of a Macy Gray perm.  And when I say white-girl-version  what I really mean is it was awful.  It didn’t work.  I did not look like the white Macy Gray.

But, because I had done it, I was going to own it.  I was convinced it was the best thing that ever had happened to my hair.  All I had to do was hang it out the window wet and POOF there it would be 30 seconds later…in all it’s damaged, frizzed up glory.


But there was a major kink in my post-afro world (besides the million kinks in my hair that were not curls…definitely just kinks)… the husband, he was presenting as an issue in this new marriage to white Macy Gray.  He hated it.

How did I know?

A few days post-kink we were at dinner and I realized he was doing everything in his power to not make eye contact with me…or so I thought.  Turns out, he was trying to not make afro-contact, because everytime he did he laughed.  Like had to hide his face he was laughing so hard.  Y’all, my hubby couldn’t even look at me.  For shame.

Long-puffy-story short, I lived with that glorious afro for a whole 2 weeks before I bid it farewell.

Saying goodbye to it and all the dreams of vibey-raspy-Macy-ness was hard.

I tried to say goodbye and I choked.  Tried to walk away and I stumbled.


Friends.  I’d like to say that this is the only time I have done something impulsive.

It would be a lie from the pit.

I am impulsive.  Period.  Always have been.

Choices are not hard for me to make.  Risk is assumed in the story of my life.

I act-now-think-later on the daily.  No one would ever call me calculated.

As my heart has matured in Jesus, I have seen the beauty and the brokenness of this part of my personality (which at times feels like the whole of it)

The beauty has shown up in the ways that God has given me BIG-HUGE-GIANT things to take on and made them a part of my story because He knows that risk is my jam and tackling big things gives me life.  Saying YES to some of the scariest things imaginable…the most unpredictable risks, has been somewhat easy for me.

I see so much beauty in the wiring that he placed in me…the quirky, spontaneous, a-little-muchness that I bring to any table has served well the specific callings on my life.

Don’t hear me bragging.  Keep reading.

However, the brokenness of this part of me has played out in the most interesting ways:

I have learned that my impulsivity has developed over the years this cyclical need to reinvent myself.  When things are settled, and easy and mundane I am quick to look for change.  Same and stable can often feel suffocating to me.

So the hard has been asking myself, “Is this God or is this me.”  Man.  Tough question.  Is God telling me this or asking this of me, or is this being born out of my need for change, for unsettling, my desire for the rush of risk.

My desire for unsettling is born out of an inability to settle, to rest, to ground and root.

I have also learned that impulsivity doesn’t leave room for boundaries…and with no boundaries you enter into a danger zone of overwhelm.

And last summer, in the thick of completing an adoption, preparing to travel to meet my QueenE, the Lord began to whisper the first hints to my heart that it was time for change.

Duh, Lord.  I’m about to head to China and pick up my child.  No small change there.

But it wasn’t that.  It was deeper.  He was beginning to scratch the surface of something else.  He was asking me to wade into the wreckage of unchecked impulsivity and take a really hard look at what had been affected by my lack of boundaries.

My heart didn’t know yet what He would be asking of me…but the excitement of the next risk was buzzing in my heart.

“Babe,”  I burst through his office door a mere 4 days away from a plane ride that we knew would change us forever, making us a family of four, I mean to be fair we did have a lot on our plate at this point.

“Babe….let’s get rid of all of this and live in an RV.”

Insert better-half-heavy-eye-roll because I mean… I had once gotten a Macy Gray white girl perm.  I had a track record of crazy.  I’ll give him that.


I had no idea that these scratch-the-surface whispers from the Lord would not necessarily be leading to another BIG THING… but to a fine tuning of the zoomed in nuances of my heart and as a result a good hard look at the rhythms of my life.

What was coming was not big at all.  It was actually tiny.

And that would bring the biggest struggle.  That what He had in store for me was stripping, going smaller, peeling back, rooting down….all the things my heart was not super pumped about doing.

Stay tuned friends…much more to come.

Steps

By | All the things

I pushed play on my pod-cast (Bible Binge podcast…if you haven’t listened to it…DO THIS STAT), put in my head phones, took a deep sigh because despite the fact that I was about to run, I am by no means a runner and do not enjoy the first 1,000 steps of any run.  It is totally a mind-over-matter, drag-me-kicking-and-screaming to the sidewalk kind of sitch.  (Mind you, I’ve got all the kick-butt gear and cute running outfits…but let’s be real…that doesn’t make you a runner…if it did I’d have a gold in the Olympics)

I had my typical route entered into my app and set out on my dreaded journey.

I got to the end of my street, where my route typically sends me left, but I hesitated.  I always go left.  Every day.  It’s my route, I’m familiar with every crack in the sidewalk on that route (honesty status…mainly because I’ve tripped and busted it over most of them…again not a runner).

But this day, I wanted different.  I wanted to buck the system and so… I went right.  Rogue.  Off the grid.  I turned my app off and just started running.

About 5 blocks in I looked ahead and I saw her, in the distance.  She had stepped out onto the same sidewalk my feet were pounding unhappily down.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.  How could she be on this sidewalk in front of me?

We locked eyes from a distance and I could see the same shock-and-awe feeling spread across her face.

I stopped when I got to her.  Took my head phones out and said, “Well, Hi friend,” and gave her a big hug.

“How are you here?  Why are you here?”  she asked me, dumbfounded.

“I think my steps were ordered my friend,” and a big grin spread on both of our faces.


Who was she?

She was a victim of human trafficking.  She was abandoned and exploited.  She was a reported missing child with a whole system on the hunt for her.  But she was more to me, to us, to our ministry.  She was one of ours, in our family, on our hearts, forever a part of us.  We, too, had been looking for her.  We wanted to see her rescued.  Wanted to see her restored.  We just had no idea where she was.

And on the sidewalk that day she shared that she needed us.  That she wanted back in, back into the life change, the restoration, the family.  That she had been wanting to reach out but didn’t know how.  She was ready.

“In their hearts humans plan their course,
    but the Lord establishes their steps.”  Proverbs 16:9

Tell me the Lord isn’t faithful to His word.  I saw it played out in flesh-wrapped-around-form; the promise that He establishes my steps.

The run, the hesitation, the different route.  Not one part of that process was a coincidence or on accident.

I had a plan that day, but His was greater.  I had a route, but His would include rescue.  I thought it was just another run I didn’t want to do, He saw it as a way of escape for the one and a way of romancing the other, me, as He reminded me that He indeed is hovering over and cares for every little detail of our lives.

“Live carefree before God; He is most careful with you.”  1 Peter 5: 7 (MSG)

He is most careful with us.  With our every step, ordering and directing them if we’ll abide in him.  There is not one detail that He does not care deeply about.  We can live in free abandon, no fear, no hesitation, because all the caring is being done by our Father.  Leave the caring to Him, He is most careful with you.

And this step ordering comes with a guarantee, that if we let Him order our every step, our ordered steps will lead us right to the door steps of the broken.  It’s just who He is.


Where is she now?

This sweet one that my steps were ordered straight to is now safe, secure and thriving in Purchased’s recovery program.  God is restoring her day by day.

You guys…this stuff never gets old.  Like how crazy cool is our God?


For more information about Purchased: Not for Sale, the incredible ministry I get to spend my days serving, visit www.thehubministry.com

THE SINGLE GREATEST PRODUCTIVITY HACK

By | All the things

On his return, Jesus was welcomed by a crowd. They were all there expecting him. A man came up, Jairus by name. He was president of the meeting place. He fell at Jesus’ feet and begged him to come to his home because his twelve-year-old daughter, his only child, was dying. Jesus went with him, making his way through the pushing, jostling crowd.

In the crowd that day there was a woman who for twelve years had been afflicted with hemorrhages. She had spent every penny she had on doctors but not one had been able to help her. She slipped in from behind and touched the edge of Jesus’ robe. At that very moment her hemorrhaging stopped. Jesus said, “Who touched me?”

When no one stepped forward, Peter said, “But Master, we’ve got crowds of people on our hands. Dozens have touched you.”

Jesus insisted, “Someone touched me. I felt power discharging from me.”

When the woman realized that she couldn’t remain hidden, she knelt trembling before him. In front of all the people, she blurted out her story—why she touched him and how at that same moment she was healed.

Jesus said, “Daughter, you took a risk trusting me, and now you’re healed and whole. Live well, live blessed!”

While he was still talking, someone from the leader’s house came up and told him, “Your daughter died. No need now to bother the Teacher.”

Jesus overheard and said, “Don’t be upset. Just trust me and everything will be all right.” Going into the house, he wouldn’t let anyone enter with him except Peter, John, James, and the child’s parents.

Everyone was crying and carrying on over her. Jesus said, “Don’t cry. She didn’t die; she’s sleeping.” They laughed at him. They knew she was dead.

Then Jesus, gripping her hand, called, “My dear child, get up.” She was up in an instant, up and breathing again!

Luke 8: 41-56

 


Productivity…what a buzz word.

The world around us is telling us to be productive, get things done, check it all off.

You can listen to a bajillion podcasts about productivity hacks and ways to do more on less time.  “You can have a 4 hour work week if you just follow these 5 steps to being more productive than you’ve ever been.”

And what could be wrong with productivity?  Isn’t it the key to success?

Well here is my productivity pitch to you today…go with me here:  (said in infomercial voice)

“Want to know the single greatest productivity hack?  The only way to get more done?  Do you want to do more of the stuff that you’re called to, that you’re made to do?  Do you want to be involved in the stuff that lasts and is eternal?  The stuff that actually matters?

(studio audience yells in unison:  YES!!! with smiles and fists in the air)

“Ok then, allow yourself to be interrupted!  Let’s be ok with being distracted!”

Cue the sad sound when music screeches to a halt…the studio audience gets up and leaves because….

That sounds like the worst productivity hack ever.

But I’m here to tell you, because I know it to be true from my own life:  being open to interruption is the key to us doing the things we’re called to do, and becoming the people we’ve been wired to be.

The productivity game can be a trap.  It can blind us to people in front of us as it turns our focus inward: to our needs, our time, our organization, our business, our finances, our dreams…none of which are bad things…until they are our only thing.

If Jesus is our guide and we are to be a mirror of Him…we’ve got a lot to learn about heavenly distractions.

He’s got an upside-down-view of productivity.  (Duh…he’s got an upside-down version to everything.)

Jesus was moving through the crowd on a VERY important mission, He had a very important task to accomplish:  the healing of a dying little girl.  And not just any little girl, the little one of an influential leader, a very important little girl.  And no doubt she was important to Jesus.  He pushed through the crowds, laser focused on the goal set before Him.

Until…he stopped.

“Someone touched me…”

His disciples said what any of us would say, “yep…there’s about a thousand folks touchin ya right now…let’s keep it movin’ Jesus we’ve got a girl to heal.” (That is if the disciples had been from the Dirty South.)

“No…someone has touched me because I can feel that power has left me.”

(Cool side note…that word power there is translated as “an achieving power”, meaning that Jesus knew that whoever touched Him had already been healed.  It had already been done.)

So, knowing that, could Jesus had kept right on moving?  Keep pushing to the goal He had set?  Yep.  Because He knew that someone had already gotten from Him what they needed.  He didn’t have to stop pushing forward in order for that healing to be done.  It was already done.

But He didn’t.

He stopped.  He demanded to know.

I love this…”Bueller….Beuller…” moment, as Jesus looked around the quiet crowd.
(Referencing the dry professor in Ferris Beuller’s day off)

He waited for an answer.

“Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed.”

You guys, how precious is this moment?

The woman, who had been in hiding, bleeding for 12 years, isolated, lonely, unclean; this woman, knowing that SHE COULD NO LONGER GO UNNOTICED…she fell at His feet.

She told Him everything.

She, indeed, had already been healed simply by her fingers-touching-hem moment.  Her physical healing had already come.

But Jesus always has more in mind than the physical.

Jesus knew that there was more healing to be done.

He wanted her to feel seen, known, heard, spoken for.  He wanted her to feel the quickening of a hear that realizes, “I can no longer go unnoticed.”  The demand that the entire procession stop, the repetitive question of who had touched Him, it was all on purpose.

He wanted her to feel the weight of His gaze because in that she would be forever changed.

Then this moving scene is interrupted (cue record screeching noise) when someone announces to Jairus, the influential leader who’s daughter’s life hung in the balance,

“Don’t bother Jesus anymore Jairus, your daughter has died.  So don’t even worry about it.”

(paraphrased of course and said with a drawl)

Here’s where the true friction of the story lies:

For Jesus to stop and give time and energy and Himself to the “distraction”…to the unplanned tug on His clothing, meant that He would have to put a pause on the very important thing He had planned to do.  If he had a day planner, top of His list that day was to heal that sweet baby girl.  And He had set out to do it.  So, to stop and shift His eyes towards the interruption seemed, to everyone around, like the opposite of productivity.

And even deeper into the crowd’s frame of mind that day:  the scandalous fact that the life that was hanging in the balance was the life of a religious leader’s daughter, and the life that had just reached out and gave a tug was that of an unclean woman…how could He stop and “waste” time, energy, resources…that were so precious and so needed… on HER of all people.  Influential vs unclean, to them there was a clear winner of who was worth His time.

But for Jesus, two lives hung in the balance that day.

For Jesus, both were deemed worthy.  Both were deemed important.

His desire to heal the one, to achieve that goal, did not disqualify this unplanned encounter.

His focus to do what had been asked of Him: HEAL MY DAUGHTER! did not blind Him to the one who was brave enough to find His hem.

Jesus moved on to the house of Jairus despite the report that his daughter had died.  Unfazed by the debbie downer news that had just been delivered.

Don’t call me a heretic but I imaging Jesus healing the woman, hearing that the daughter had died, and him silently turning towards the disciples and putting his rad sunglasses back on as if to say, “Let’s do this thing.”  UN.FAZED.

He walked in to the home of Jairus and told them all to stop wailing…which is just hysterical to me.

 Like can you imagine Jesus just rollin’ in like “Hey y’all…shhh…calm down and quit wailin’ like that.”  Like He was annoyed.

He walked right in to that death-filled-room, grabbed that little girl’s hand and in an instant death had to find a new home.  She was instantly alive.

Jesus, because of His open-handed view of His calling, of His life, was not afraid to be interrupted.  Distraction didn’t frustrate Him.  Unplanned people, unplanned need, unplanned demands, they didn’t send him into a tizzy as He thought about how in the world He would now complete the rest of His goals for that day.

People were his goals.  People were the very thing He set out to do from the moment he had to wrap Himself in our skin to make a way for our life.

And because He knew this, that people were His aim, He was willing to be distracted that day.  And not only did He heal a woman from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet, but he went on to do something that NO ONE ELSE could do:

Raise from the dead.

He had the corner on this market.  No one had the power to raise back to life.

Healing had been done in His name, other rabbi’s had been known to heal.

But raise from the dead…no one could do that.

Distraction and interruption led to greater glory for Him.

Unplanned need cleared the path for a greater miracle.


Friends, I am in this tension with you.  The tension of achieving versus becoming.

The back and forth feeling that if we do one thing it’s at the sacrifice of another.

But it’s just not the truth in God’s kingdom.  If our lives are submitted to Him, if we hunger and thirst for Him, He gives us His heart.  And with His heart comes His goals, His dreams, His vision.  And the guarantee that your laser sharp focus will reset on people.  Broken people.

If we’re not careful we can structure and plan out our every minute of every day in such a way that we become a protected fortress against distraction.  Nothing unplanned will throw us off the scent of our goals.

But what if that something unplanned, that distraction that stumbles across your path, is what you really need?

What if it’s a heavenly distraction, sent into your path to allow you to be used by Him.

Planning is a tricky thing.  We can easily fool ourselves into thinking that it’s ours to do.  That our plans are what’s best for us.

But friends, His ways aren’t always like our ways.  His goals don’t always match ours, in fact they rarely do.

And the key to success isn’t getting more things done.  The key to our success is becoming more like Jesus.

We need to lay that reality over our productivity plans and see where they line up and where they don’t.

What if we lived with an open handed view of our schedule, our goals, our productivity?  What if we learned to live in the tension of having and setting goals, holding a schedule, setting boundaries and being productive but also being willing to lay it all down for a holy distraction, a divine interruption?

What if we held our productivity with a loose grip and were willing to throw it all out the window to make way for what He might have planned for us?

What if giving margin for the divine to be interjected into the mundane fueled the fire in us and we actually got more done across the board…because we were coming alive?  Productivity has a lot more to do with who we are than what we plan.

Let’s practice Kingdom-productivity, a balance of achieving our own goals but not at the sacrifice of Jesus’s call on our lives.

Let’s submit our visions, plans and strategies to Him and be willing to make the trade for anything He has for us instead!

Let’s keep our eyes wide open for heavenly distractions, holy interruptions and not be people who run from them when we see them coming a mile away!

Let’s stop the rat race and rest.  Rest in the knowledge that He sees the end from the beginning and that He is the author of our vision and our dreams.  And that He cares.

God cares about your everyday, your every minute, and if you allow Him to, He will use every single bit of it …

AND make you the most productive person in history.
(cue infomercial wrap up music and canned clapping and cheering audio)

Permission to Bask

By | All the things

Found her laying in the sun. ⠀

And in an instant all that I had just read sitting on my porch with a cup of coffee- marveling at the rising of Jesus and asking Him to reveal the implications of his breath after death, to take me past the obvious ramifications and into the day-to-day minute-by-minute ways that those steps out of His-grave matter for mine-it all came into clear and real and flesh-wrapped-around view.⠀

The second His eyes opened in that tomb, it became possible for mine to be opened. The moment He gasped and life came flooding back into His body the path cleared for life to flood back into mine. His steps out of death declared that death had no hold on me.⠀

His ashes turned beauty, His fullness leaving a tomb empty, His conquering the thing that no one had ever conquered… not just death but sin…all declared that orphan hearts had a Father. A Father that risked it all to claim them as His own.⠀

I am living among two living-breathing-empty tombs. Where death once reigned for these unknown ones now restored life screams the reality that His resurrection changes everything.⠀

The impossible becomes possible.⠀

All because of Jesus I was pulled out of my pit, brought back to life and my girls were firmly placed in the family of God, named and known. Their death conquered.

Darkness gone and now they, we, can bask in His light.

The implications matter. Death giving way to life can be seen anywhere He has been. It is His fingerprint. Life left on everything He touches.⠀ ⠀

Take a closer look today.

What is alive in you that apart from that heavy rock being moved would still be hidden in death?⠀

Where are you?

By | All the things

The car in front of us pulled out as the light turned green.

I watched it happen.  A car coming through the intersection, ran the red light and without touching her brakes, the driver t-boned the unsuspecting food-delivery car directly in front of us.

It was a bad.

We pulled around the wreck and pulled over on the on ramp to the interstate.  The wreck was about 100 yards back under an overpass.  This is all important information for my story.

My hubby, the SWOON-WORTHY hero type, told me to call 911 and he jumped out and ran back to the scene.

He pulled the poor food-delivery boy out of his car.  He was hurt, but conscious.  Somebody wasn’t gettin’ their dinner that night.

I dialed 911.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“Yes, there’s been a wreck and we are the only witnesses.  We are here on the scene now.”

“Ok ma’am.  Where are you?”

“We are at the intersection of East Kings Hwy and I-49.”

“East Kings Hwy and 49?  Is that correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ok.  Let me see.  Are you sure that’s where you are?”

“umm…. I looked around… Yes.”

I mean come on, why the third degree.

“Ok ma’am.  We are sending units your way.”

“Ok thank you.”

5 minutes passed, no police, no ambulance…nothing.

I could see the hubs sitting on the ground with the victim, who was holding his arm in wincing pain.

My phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Uh yes ma’am, this is the Fire Department and we are looking for the accident you called about.”

“Ok.  We’re under the overpass at the intersection of East Kings Hwy and I-49.”

“Ma’am, we’re under the overpass and we don’t see an accident.”

“What?  We’re right here.  You know how you pass Taco Bell, McDonald’s and then there’s an overpass…”

“Yes ma’am….that’s where we are.”

“Well, we are too.  We’re right there.  Hold on one second.”

I jumped out of the car and hollered at the hero-hubby, “Babe!!!  Babe!!!”

He looked up at me confused.

“Where are we??”

He literally didn’t respond just kept on helping the poor soul who was STILL wincing in pain on the side of the interstate.

I hopped out of the car and jogged back the 100 yards to where the accident took place.

“Ok sir,” I continued with the fireman, ” I am headed back to the overpass and I will wave my arms when I get there.”

“Ok ma’am.  But there is no accident here.”

“Hold on one sec,”  I rounded the corner prepared to feverishly flag them down when the realization hit.

“Oh…that’s because we are not at the intersection of East Kings Hwy and I-49…

“BABE!!  WHERE ARE WE?!?”

My confused hubby shouted, “What do you mean?? Corner of Pierremont and I-49 under the overpass.”

“Sir….I’m sorry.  You’re right.  We’re not there because we’re here.  Corner of I-49 and Pierremont Rd.”

I hung my head low as I made the walk of shame back to our car, passing the sweet boy STILL writhing on the ground in pain and my hubby looking at me in disbelief.

My bad y’all.  Sorry about it.

Units arrived within minutes and the scene was quickly handled by local law enforcement.

Quickly handled, but not near as quick as it could’ve been.

Again, my bad.


PS:  After re-telling this story to my family around the dinner table, I was informed that the two streets I told the 911 operator never actually intersect.  East Kings Hwy NEVER meets I-49.  KINGS Hwy does.

Eye-roll…minor details.

PPS:  Shout out to the poor friend who was actually the victim twice, once in a car wreck and secondly a victim of my lack of awareness.  I don’t know your name but I do know you work for Go-Waiter…if you’re reading this… so sorry.  It’s the thought that counts??  A for Effort??



“When the Woman saw that the tree looked like good eating and realized what she would get out of it—she’d know everything!—she took and ate the fruit and then gave some to her husband, and he ate.  

 Immediately the two of them did “see what’s really going on”—saw themselves naked!
They sewed fig leaves together as makeshift clothes for themselves.

When they heard the sound of God strolling in the garden in the evening breeze,
the Man and his Wife hid in the trees of the garden, hid from God.

God called to the Man: “Where are you?”

Genesis 3 MSG

Where are you?

When God asks a question it’s not because he lacks the answer.

He asks the question because we need to know the answer.

It’s what marks a relational God.  His willingness to ask us questions that He doesn’t need to ask.

His grace-poured-out is shown when he begs a question that uncovers a radical truth that we are actually, whether we know it or not, desperate for.

God’s question to Adam wasn’t simply a geographical question.  Where are you in the garden?  What are your coordinates?

It was that, but it was also so much more.

He asked them physically where they were to highlight the point that they weren’t in plain sight… they were hiding.

God didn’t lack the ability to find them.  He wanted them to feel the sting of the knowledge that they were in fact hiding from their Creator-Friend-God who they were accustomed to meeting face-to-face.  They had an unhindered friendship with God until this very moment.

Where are you?

He wanted them to come to terms with where they truly were.

They were hiding, in shame, fully aware of their nakedness and now broken because of sin.

Where are you?

Such a simple question but one that carries massive heart-shifting implications if we’re willing to answer it.

This is a question I’ve learned the rhythm of asking on a regular basis.  Where am I?  Where’s my heart?  Where’s my mind?

Answering this question has shifted entire parts of my heart towards healing and growth and towards a depth of friendship with the Lord that has radically changed me.

When I ask, “Where am I Lord?”, He answers.  Sometimes it’s not so fun to have to own up to where I’m at when I’m crouched behind a bush hiding in shame.

But what happens if we don’t answer the question?

We delay help.  We delay healing.  We delay becoming exactly who He has hand-crafted us to be.

We continue to lay on the side of the interstate STILL in excruciating pain.  We stay in the rut of complete denial.

Friend, be brave enough to answer this question today!

Where are you?

Where are you in your relationship with God?  Are you present?  Are you hiding?  Are you absent all together?

Where are you in your marriage?  Your parenting?  Your friendships?

Where are you in your mind?  Your thoughts?  The lies you may be believing?

Where are you in your calling?  Are you walking out who you were meant to be?  Are you taking risks for the kingdom?  Or are you crouched somewhere behind a bush called “safety” or “comfort”?

Where are you?

My daddy said…

By | All the things

My dad and I made daily gas station trips when I was young.  Yep.  Pretty much daily.

He always got his jam: a sausage biscuit with a coke and I got my jam: frosted honey bun with a Dr. Pepper.

Yes.  The picture of health, I’m aware.

One such day as we waited in line, the ding of the bell on the door loudly rang and every eye was on a giant of a man, seemingly 10 feet tall, with long messy hair, not the cute-messy-bun kinda messy, like the maybe-I-just-killed-a-guy type of messy.  He was covered in tattoos and wearing a ripped up rough-and-tumble looking beige shirt, unbuttoned with no shirt under it.

But the most important part, the key element to his appearance that day, the one piece that tied his entire look together perfectly was…. BLOOD.  He had blood all over him.

(Here’s a amateur composite sketch directly from dad’s memory, almost 30 years later…I die.)

And here he came, just bee-boppin into our local, friendly convenience store.  Just your regular old Grab-and-Go…which we were all hoping and praying he wouldn’t actually do.

He wandered, calmly-frantic, to the back of the store.  You know the look.  Deer in the headlights.

My dad squatted down to me and decided to take this moment, this particularly-tense moment, and make it a teachable one.

“Hey sweetie.  You see that man over there.  He’s a scary, ugly man and I don’t want you to ever mess with someone like him.  Ok?”

I gazed at the man.  Got it.

Scary.  Check.  Ugly.  Check.

This bounty-hunter-type-individual came and got in line right in front of us.  A total-line-cutter.  He boldly stepped up to the counter with no regard for who was next in line.  Us.  But I mean if you just killed someone I guess line-cutting is easy-breezy-child’s-play stuff.

Sweet dad did his best to keep his eyes down.  There would be no friendly chatting with the blood-soaked-friend that was heavy-mouth-breathing, now standing in our rightful place in line.

Pin-drop-quiet.

Did no one see the blood?  Should we do something?  Call the police?  Did he just straight cut us in line?

Were we all just going to play it cool until the man left?

Not me.

Into the pin-drop-silence came my pint-size voice:

“My daddy said you UGEE.”

Plain and simple.  Matter of fact.  Gospel Truth.

From my mouth straight to his ear.

My dad’s whispers had obviously hit home.

I had heard abundantly clearly the lesson my dad had taken the time to teach, all except the don’t mess with guys like him part.

I took what he said to be truth and was bold enough to proclaim it.

We quickly bought our 3-days-worth-the-reccomended-calories and hit the road.

As we left we heard the sirens and watched as the man dove under his car.  He had totally just killed a guy.


What if we took our Creator-Papa that seriously?

What would it look like if the words He has whispered to us, about us, became a confident-gospel-truth-force in our hearts?

And what if the force of those truths made us secure enough to look fear, suffering, oppression, addiction, name-your-poison, in the face and tell it the truth?

Tell it how ugee it really is.

Boldness like that isn’t just found in the naturally brave.

Boldness like that is birthed out of trust.  Trust in the mouth that spoke the words.  Trust in the kindness that stooped to whisper them.

Trust built on time-tested faithfulness.  Trust based in identity, the knowing we are His.

Jesus, being led by His Papa, found himself in the desert.  It was there that the bell on the door rang loudly and in walked the devil himself.  He had the I-just-killed-a-guy-look when he set his sights on Jesus.

Three times he told Jesus lies.

And all three times Jesus SHUT. HIM. DOWN.

How?

Not with his own words or cultural pithy-sayings found on quickly-scrolled-over-memes.

His only response?

The words of His Papa.

It is written.  It is written.  It is written.

The words of His Father he knew to be true.  Trusted to be enough.  Trust that’s built on time-tested faithfulness.

Defeat came for the enemy in the desert that day simply because Jesus knew what His Father had whispered, and the force of that knowledge, the deep down knowing, made Him secure enough to tell the devil the truth.


Friend.  Do you trust your Father that much?

Do you know what He has said?  About you?  About your purpose?  About what He thinks of you?

What are His promises to you?

Maybe you’re staring at a season that is threatening to kill you, the ding of the bell on the door has rung loudly as it flung open to hurt, sadness, loss?  A season so intimidating that you’re paralyzed with pin-drop-quiet fear.

What does your Papa have to say about it?  Where is He in it?  What does He want for you from it?

Ask him.  And listen as he bends down kindly to teach you.

 

Change is So Becoming on You

By | All the things, Life


Ok peeps.  So with a new year comes NEW-YEAR-NEW-ME!!  It is declared from every social media platform, it comes out of all of our mouths, it is the theme of the 1st few months of every new year.

For me, it has usually been more of a question.

New Year…. New Me?

To which my heart would sigh a “probably not”.

Why?  Because I had set goals over and over and over and every. single. dad-gum. time. I failed at those goals a hot-minute later.

Man…is there anything worse than that feeling?  Failure.  Especially internal failure…when we set our hearts on what we want and we fall painfully short, and the reasons we fall short feel so dang predictable and habitual.

The post I-wanna-lose-20-lbs-in-a-week failure binge-eating sesh is always reeeeal good for my morale.

Year after year, season after season, it happened every single time.  Goals set and immediately not met.  It was a pattern, a very obvious one.  And it wasn’t just at the New Year.  If I was being really honest with myself, this trickled down into my every day life.

I asked myself and the Lord… “BUT WHY????”

The want to was there.  I had the desire to set the goals and I would have said I really wanted those goals to happen.

I would lament and say “same” to my boy Paul who said:

“What I don’t understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise…. I can will it, but I can’t do it. I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.”   Romans 7:15-20

Same Paul.  S.A.M.E.

Something has gone wrong deep down when you decide to not eat carbs and then you IMMEDIATELY get up from that place and slam 4 slices of pizza as if you had not just made up your mind about that exact thing.

If this were an infomercial it would say in a yuppy-goofy voice with an actress holding her head in stress as she looks at a treadmill:

“Are you tired of setting resolutions and not doing them one single time?”

And you would say to the TV… “Why Yes, Yes I am actually.”

Well friend, let me let you in on what feels like the best little secret to my heart, what changed it all for me.

It was one tiny word, one single collection of letters, that held with it the power to radically change my life:

BECOMING

At this word, the cycle ended.

Last year I sat down to think through what goals I wanted to set for 2017, again with the heavy-heart-sigh that I felt so unbelievably unable to achieve them even as I wrote them.

I stopped writing and bowed my head.

“Lord, what do you want for me this year?  What do you want me to do?”

And in an instant the freshest breath of God breathed over my heart and the words came as clear as day to me:

WHO ARE YOU BECOMING?

Not “What are you doing?” or “What can you accomplish?”

WHO WILL YOU BECOME in these next 365 days?

And the deeper question, WHO WILL YOU ALLOW ME TO MAKE YOU?

See friends, my problem was that I was setting a bunch of goals without knowing the WHY behind them?  My goals lacked serious vision, clarity and purpose.

The WHY behind the goals I was setting just didn’t cut it for motivation.

Let me show you:

Start Exercising and Eat right so that I can lose weight.
Get Organized so that my excess stuff stops stressing me out.

At first glance this may read as normal and healthy and understandable.

But what if our goals looked like this:

I want to become HEALTHY and STRONG
Why?  Because I know that if I am healthy I will have energy to do the things I am being called to.  I will be around for my kids and will be available for them.  If I am healthy I can have a clear mind, not a sluggish one.  Health would mean that my body is taken care of.  If I am strong then I will feel capable of handling what life throws at me.  If I am strong I will be able to bring that strength into every area of my life.

Why?  Because as a child of God, I am a living and breathing billboard of God’s glory and His nature.  If I am not healthy and I am not strong, what does that say about the God I am an advertisement for.

I want to become FREE FROM MY STUFF
If I am free from my stuff, then stuff won’t control me.  If I am free from my stuff I will consume less.  If I figure out why I have so much stuff, why I feel the need to pile up possessions, I will have significantly less to organize.  My stuff won’t be an issue because I will know the issue that ended in all my stuff.

Why?  Because in becoming free from my possessions I will become freed up to do what I am called to do, freedom from my stuff will open up margin for me to invite more meaningful things in.

Let me tell you a quick story:
(feel free to skip down if you don’t want to be a part of story time)

One day I came home for lunch and parked in front of our town house.  Right in front of the door.  The shortest route into our house was to park on the front curb and hop-skip-and-jump up the short sidewalk and into our front door.

Now, a little about me: I am all about the fastest route to anything or anywhere.  I am in constant, quick movement at all times.

So, this parking spot was my fave.  If I parked in the garage I would have to drive all the way around the entire housewait on the garage door to take-it’s-time and open and then walk through the courtyard where I would have to deal with the stupid dog. 

I don’t have time for all that.

So anyways.  I’m inside eating and my tall-drink-of-fine comes to me and says,

“Hey.  Don’t park right there next time.”

I gave him a quick head nod and an internal eye roll.  He’s not the boss of me is truly what I probably thought.  Because: ME=mature.

The next day, same thing.

“Hey Babe.  Don’t park there ok?”

And would you believe I said “Ok” and then did it again THE VERY NEXT DAY.

So on the third day the oh-so-better-half of mine came to me and said,

“Hey, come here for a sec, I want to show you something.”

He opened the front door and pointed down the street, past my car, to the mailman’s car that was parked on the same curb about a block up from my car.

“Do you see the mailman’s truck?”

“Yes”

“Ok, do you see the mailman?”

I did.  He was ABSOLUTELY PRECIOUS.  I swear he was the little old man from UP….just shuffling down our sidewalk with our mail.

“Awww….he’s cute Babe.”

“Do you see what he’s doing?  Why do you think he’s out of his truck walking towards our house?”

“I dunno.”

“Because every day you park in front of the mailbox.  So he can never get to ours.  He has to pull down the sidewalk, get out and walk back a block to give us our mail.”

OH.MY.WORD.  Bless his little UP-heart.  I had unwillingly created extra work for this precious man.  He had to make that shuffle EVERY DAY because of me.

I’ll tell you this.

I NEVER PARKED IN THE FRONT AGAIN.

What changed?

I now knew WHY it mattered that I didn’t park there.

The WHY changed everything.

What’s behind our goals?  What are the WHYS behind them as we set them?  Why do they matter?

Are they driven by the desire to BECOME who we’re meant by our Creator to be or are they simply a list of tasks or a compilation of “should-dos”?  A collection of DOINGS that lack any real focus?

Do you know what I have learned?  That God delights when we sit and dream and ask Him who He wants us to BE.  He is the AUTHOR of our lives, He knows the end from the beginning.

He is delighted in the BECOMING process of our hearts.

And as we BECOME, we naturally DO.  Out of our BECOMING, we actually achieve things.  Deep, rich things, things that actually matter, things that end with Him getting more glory.

With a shift in heart on the matter, I was able to set some BECOMING goals last year that TRULY CHANGED MY LIFE.  Like in the everyday nitty-gritty mundanity of life, I saw changes happen, I met goals, I achieved things that I had always wanted to do.

But more importantly, I BECAME someone in 2017,  the someone that God had in mind all along.  I got on board with the plan that He had set before time.  I followed His vision for me instead of creating my own version that would no doubt sell my potential short.

I took steps closer to His design for me with each passing day.

I found the better thing.

I’m gonna leave you with one more story:

“As they continued their travel, Jesus entered a village. A woman by the name of Martha welcomed him and made him feel quite at home. She had a sister, Mary, who sat before the Master, hanging on every word he said.
But Martha was pulled away by all she had to do in the kitchen. Later, she stepped in, interrupting them. “Master, don’t you care that my sister has abandoned the kitchen to me? Tell her to lend me a hand.”

The Master said, “Martha, dear Martha, you’re fussing far too much and getting
yourself worked up over nothing.  One thing only is essential, and Mary has chosen it—
it’s the main course, and won’t be taken from her.”  Luke 10:38-42

Friends, let’s not get caught on the wrong side of this equation.

Let’s not try to decide what matters more to Jesus and get that answer wrong.

Jesus clearly knows where he stands on the BECOMING vs DOING topic:

“One thing ONLY is essential…and Mary has chosen it…”

Mary sat at His feet, hanging on every word He said.

She knew that in His words lied the potential to BECOME someone new.

Let’s sit at His feet and ask Him who He wants us to BECOME.  Let’s hang on every one of His words to us.

And then, get out a pen and a fresh notebook, and LET’S SET SOME GOALS standing on the fresh ground of what He tells you.


[easy-image-collage id=5419]

Want to know my BECOMING goals for 2018?

Well, I want you to know them so that you know I’m practicing what I preach:

FILLED & AWARE // I want to be filled with the Holy Spirit every day that ends in Y.  I want to be more aware of the small things that God is doing right in front of me.  I want to be more aware of who I am: my personality, my needs, my quirks…all of it.  More aware in general of the tiny ways that God moves and speaks.

HEALTHY & STRONG // I want to be healthy on all fronts.  I want to be responsible with my body, take care of my body and figure out what makes me feel full of health and beauty.  I want to be strong.  Not skinnier, not a certain size.  I want to feel the strength of muscles that have been worked hard for.

FREE FROM MY STUFF// I want less of all of the things.  But more than the number of things I own, I want to tackle consumerism in my heart.  Why is it there?  I want to feel the freedom of wide open margin, free from clutter and excess, and open to all that Jesus has for me.

A WARRIOR MAMA// I don’t just want to be a parent.  I want to war for the hearts of my girlies.  I want to war in prayer for them,  I want to war against distraction that robs us of quality time and give them the gift of my undivided attention.  I want to war for their salvation and for their destinies.  I want to parent them through the sharp lens of intentionality, making the most of my days with them.

A CURATOR OF HOME//I want open-door living, a house full of people from all walks of life, all backgrounds of faith.  I want our home to be a refuge for people.  I want a home that spurs on creativity in my family, a no-limits environment that is fun, relaxed and spontaneous.  I want visitors and my own family to leave better than they came in.

A GIVER OF WORDS// I desire to see the Lord take the gift He’s given me and use it to change the world.  I want to give away my words as if they are a gift.  I want to lavish people with encouragement and I want people to feel known and cherished by my words.
Thanks for reading all the way to the bottom.  You, friend (since there’s probably only one of you who love me enough to read all the way through my rambling…Hey Mom), are why I write the words that I write.  I’m cheering you on in all that you are BECOMING!

Ahem…World Record Holder.

By | All the things, Life

Happy 2018 my friends!

Let’s all take a big ole deep breath.  Breathe in, now out…shake it like a polaroid picture, shake it all off…it’s a fresh start!!!

2017 was a doozy for the Hammett tribe.  In a lot of ways it was one of the hardest and weirdest years of our existence as a family.  But in more ways it was beautiful and refining and deep and real and raw and we saw different sides of Jesus, hints of His nature we never knew before, as we bottomed out in desperation and found that He was there waiting.

I LOVE NEW!  I love a fresh slate, a blank page….the crispness of possibility is in the air and we are SO READY for what 2018 has in store.

If we learned one thing this year it was this:

You can plan and strategize and dream up your life, but Jesus ALWAYS desires to exchange your plans for what He has instead.  If you are chasing Him He won’t let you settle for what you can dream up or plan…because He knows that what He has is so much better.

And it might be painful and confusing and ugly as all get out, when He takes from you your plans and gives you His, but what He trades you for will ALWAYS be the better thing, the more-whole thing, the thing that will make you more like Him.

Amen and Amen…said with a slight limp in my step…but still Amen.

So… to start this year off right with you, my lovely blog tribe, I want to INTRODUCE MYSELF.

Weird to say I know…because I’ve been blogging for years, and some of you may feel that you know me already, because let’s be honest I don’t struggle in the sharing department…maybe over-sharing, but definitely not under-sharing.  I have all the words for all the things and I have let it all hang out on this-here blog.

But one of my greatest worries is that folks would read my words and assume things about me that just flat out aren’t true.

Things like:

She has it all together
She’s a super-christian
She doesn’t struggle the way I do
She’s a 100% perfect mom at all times that has all the
beautiful words for all the instagrammable moments
She doesn’t have fears, she’s worked through them all
She doesn’t have doubts, she’s never tossed about by her thoughts

Just to name a few.

Oh how I wish I could sit with each of you, a cup of coffee in hand, and we could exchange war stories and brag about our battle scars together.  We could throw our heads back and laugh about all of the quirky, weird things that make us who we are.  We could get to know the realness of each other.  Nothing would be better…don’t you agree?

I want you to know that we’re all in this together.  That my words wrapped around stories are coming from a place of mutual slugging-it-out with life and faith and parenting and all of my own flaws and short comings- with the whole beautiful mess of it.

So, let’s start this year off with a good old fashion meet-and-greet.  Let’s pretend we are coffee-in-hand, across from each other, friend to friend.

Buckle up people… it’s about to get real vulnerable up in here.

Here are 10 things about me that I want you to know…

FIRST THINGS FIRST:

I feel that I need to start with the very best thing about me.  I need you to brace yourself because this is BIG.

I AM IN THE GUINNESS BOOK OF WORLD RECORDS.

I am a WORLD RECORD HOLDER.

Friends this is the GOSPEL truth.  And why??  What world record did I set?  (drumrollllll)

THE WORLD’S LARGEST BUNNY HOP

Yes.  The dance.  Yes…the largest, both the largest group of people who have ever done the bunny hop at once and the longest amount of time that that many people in the world have ever bunny hopped without stopping or breaking line.

(TRUE STORY: I just went to find the link to the page of the world record I helped set for proof to you to ONLY JUST NOW FIND OUT THAT MY RECORD HAS BEEN BROKEN.  I feel that I deserved at least a heads up on that Mr. Guinness.  I just lost one of my most treasured answers when playing 2 truths and a lie…excuse me while I mourn. And no, I will not change the above wording to “WAS” a record holder…because I STILL AM one ok.)

The rest follow in random order…but just know that this first one is by far the most important.

TWO:  I am the wife of Brent Steven Hammett.  (I use his middle name to prove to him that I do know how to spell it because to be honest 11 years into marriage and I still sort of don’t know every time I write it)  Being Brent’s wife is a big deal y’all.  He is by far one of the coolest, most talented, most mysterious men on the planet.  I call him my tall-drink-of-fine.  He stands at 6 foot 3, has a full sleeve of tattoos and plays the drums.  Excuse me while I swoon.  His day job is working for a hunger relief organization that feeds hungry children all over the world. (www.numanainc.com) Again – Swoon.  He also does free lance design and video work (www.brenthammett.com) and every once in a while tours with bands to run their shows.  I mean COME ON right??  Anyways…he’s mine and you can’t have him.  We’ve been married 11 years.  I am never not aware that being married to me is A. LOT…but my man is in it to win it.
(If the saints could pray for him please)

Brent

THREE:  I am the Mama to two incredible little unicorns named Liv Nima and Esther Fei.  Liv is 6 years old and has been my daughter since she was 8 months old.  She is from the Democratic Republic of Congo and is as beautiful as you would imagine.  (for your research visit my Instagram page and behold her beauty @casshamm)  Liv is tall and muscular, like muscles that make me jealous.  She has the coolest gap in her teeth that I pray stays the rest of her life.  She is smart.  I mean really brilliant.  She started Kindergarten this year and is currently reading on a 4th grade level.  She is compassionate and kind, always ready to serve or be a part of something.  She is a voracious reader and a disciplined writer, recording all sorts of things in the bajillion journals that are all her treasures.  She is EXACTLY like Brent.  To the letter.  She is structured and calculated and logical…all the things that I am not.

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Esther is 3 years old and has been mine since June, only a short 8 months.  She came home with an un-repaired bi-lateral cleft lip and palate, fluent in mandarin and a zest for life that can not be tamed.  She is tiny and squishy and we love her so stinkin’ much.  She loves getting her nails painted, is passionate about band-aids and wears her sister’s panties over her diaper every day.  She is extremely opinionated about her fashion and she spends most of her days in a pink tutu and rain boots.  We call her Wreck it Ralph, or Ralph for short, QueenE and Yue Yue (her chinese name).  She walks into a room and leaves a wake of destruction in her path.  She is spontaneous, zany, chaotic and spunky, all the things that I am.  She is EXACTLY like me.  It is scary.  This truth also makes for some interesting head-butting/sparring sessions.

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***Disclaimer:  The amount of times that I fail at items 3 and 4 is astonishing.  I mostly feel like I get it wrong…but Jesus, in all His grace allows me to get back up, make things right and continue to move forward with this little gem of a group of folks I get to call my family.  Raise your hand if you’ve ever asked your hubby “Am I screwing up my kids”….Cause I did this morning…oh.. just me… alright then, moving on.)

group hug

FOUR:  I have a super power…or some might call it a party trick.  I can lay down flat on my stomach and NO ONE has the ability to flip me over or pick me up.  I can make my body weigh as much as an elephant and there has yet to be one single person able to move me.  I know what you’re thinking… I could move her.  No.  You couldn’t.  I have always believed that ONE DAY this power will be extremely useful.  Like maybe it may save my life.  I dunno.

FIVE:  3 months into my marriage to my tall-drink-of-fine I fell into a deep, dark season of depression and anxiety.  It was crippling and terrifying and I thought it was going to take my life.  I walked the hard road of debilitating anxiety for 6 months before I met Jesus face to face and He, in all of His kindness, pulled me out and put me squarely on my feet…and those feet were planted on a path that I could have never expected.  More to share on that later…can’t wait to tell ya about it.

SIX:  I am the Founder of The Hub: urban ministries (www.thehubministry.com).  The weight of this honor is NEVER far from my heart and mind.  I don’t deserve to even have a pinky in it, but God saw fit to choose a very unqualified girl’s shoulders to place the most beautiful mantle of leadership on.  It has been the greatest adventure, the biggest risk and the best/hardest thing I’ve ever done. (Read a little more about it here)

SEVEN:  I am bad at math.  Scared of numbers really.  If you tell me your phone number I will nod and smile and will make you believe I have a beautiful-mind-style ability to compute but I am telling you now that as you say those numbers to me my brain begins the process of jumping-ship and shutting down.  In college I got a D in remedial math…that’s the math that’s lower than introductory math.  It was the first time I had to face the facts that there was something I was just downright bad at…and for my personality-a fixer, this was hard. But there was nothing I could do about it.  I remember calling my dad from college hyperventilating and him saying, “Hey Cass…just pass.  Get a D.  That’s all you need to do.  It’s not that big of a deal, don’t let it become more than it needs to be.  So, you’re bad at math?  Who cares??.”   This would be a nugget of wisdom that I would tuck away and pull back out countless times in the years to come… so you’re bad at something…so what??  Thank you dad.

EIGHT:  I am writing a book.  And it might kill me.  It’s a dream of mine but it’s a discipline and a lane that I find incredibly intimidating.  I have had this book in my bones burning to get out for an entire 5 years.  So, this year, it will be finished.  You know what convinced me to do it?  My precious little crazies, Liv and Esther.  I pictured them picking it up and reading it one day and that made it a priority.  It will be a record for them, a marker of what God did in their Mama and Papa’s life.   It’s called Tiny Giant and I can’t get started about it because if I do I just.won’t.stop ranting about how excited I am to share it with you.  I am thrilled to see what God is up to with my words.

NINE:  I am divergent.  I have taken a bajillion personality/enneagram/temperament tests and they HAVE ALL BEEN WRONG…or at least that has been my assessment of them.  I can take the same test 3 times and get a different result every single time.  I once was used in a blind experiment where I was unaware of the reason we were doing it or the goal of the study or the rules of engagement, and I MESSED UP THE STUDY.  They were on a track, had proven one thing and then I took the test and did the opposite thing to what they had proven.  So… I choose to call myself DIVERGENT because crazy just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

TEN:  I have a constant compulsion to reinvent myself that I have to keep in check and submitted to Jesus.  I don’t know where it comes from yet, I am currently on a journey to figure that out, but if I allowed myself I would do something different, try something new, change my hair, get rid of my clothes and buy a new wardrobe ON A WEEKLY BASIS.  I buy new notebooks to mark new seasons and end up buying a new one before I even use the one I just bought.  If I do something or look one way for too long I get the itch for change.  I love change…maybe a little too much.  I am leaning into this this year to dig around and find the root of it.  Stay tuned.

See, friend.  You and I are not that different.  We are all feeling our way through this beautiful, funny, exciting, painful and jacked-up world.

We are all in desperate need of Jesus, every single one of us.

And if you don’t know that sentence above to be true, let’s chat!  I’d love to help you see your need and find it immediately met in Him.

We are wives, mamas, sisters, friends, champions, creatives, movers and shakers.  But we are also messy and hurting, depressed and maybe anxious, prideful, pre-occupied, missing the mark, failing and falling short.

So as we start a new year,  let’s not look at the broken in us and sweep it under the rug in honor of a fresh start.  Let’s wrestle through it.

Let’s celebrate the things that make us quirky.

Let’s laugh at the things that are just downright dumb about us…the silly things that matter to us but don’t make a bit of difference to anyone else.  Those little things matter to our Father.   He put them there.

And let’s look to the left and right, take each other’s hands and charge forward toward all that God is breathing into existence in our lives.  Ignoring our failures and the whispers of the enemy…and running with abandon, TOGETHER, towards the next stretch of ground.

2018, WE’RE COMING FOR YA!