(IN)Courage

[Judy Harder]

Little Things
Nov 14, 2012 12:20 am | Angela Nazworth



Great joy is often birthed from life's littlest pleasures.

Flour dusted on button noses. Teaspoons of batter filling a mini-donut maker. Tiny tongues licking frosting-covered fingertips. Nibbles. Smiles. Sticky kisses.

Misplaced syllables from a tired mother's mouth making the words "Dotty/Dadder Date" instead of saying "Daddy/Daughter Date." Giggles. Tickles. Hugs.

A creative 8-year-old planning a party complete with homemade games and prizes to honor her favorite animal ... the platypus. Heart tugs. Applause. High-fives.

Over the past few weeks, stolen moments of fun and sweetness like the ones mentioned above held my heart captive and turned the corners of my mouth upward.

They weren't milestones or "big deals," so to speak ... but they were moments that mattered. Little moments that add beauty. Little moments for which I am thankful.

I have found that the more time I take to bask in simple pleasures and to give thanks for the seemingly ordinary, the richer my life becomes ... or rather, the more equipped I am to understand and appreciate the riches I've been given.

What about you? What are some little things that have happened to you recently that brought big-time happiness?





10 Ways to Know if Your Teen Girl Should Read Graceful (plus free resources for small groups!)
Nov 14, 2012 12:05 am | Emily Freeman


I get asked a lot about who I had in mind when I wrote Graceful {For Young Women}. Rather than give you a description of the girl I had in mind, I want to offer you 10 ways to know if your teen girl might need to read Graceful. Maybe I wrote it for her?



1. If she is a first-born child or has the typical characteristics of a first-born (responsible, dependable, organized), then she might need to read Graceful. (I'm not a first-born, but play one in real life).

2. If she loses sleep because of worry about school, homework, or grades then she might need to read Graceful.

3. If she thinks her real life won't start until she finishes high school, then she might need to read Graceful.

4. If she seems overly concerned with the opinions of others, then she might need to read Graceful.

5. If she thinks pleasing God is more important than trusting God, then she might need to read Graceful.

6. If she is a leader at school, in her youth group, and among her peers but tends to keep her problems and emotions to herself, then she might need to read Graceful.

7. If she is a rule-follower who sees all the world in black and white, then she might need to read Graceful.

8. If she is always the "good influence" in all of her peer groups, then she might need to read Graceful.

9.  If she seems exhausted, overwhelmed, or distant, than she might need to read Graceful.

10. If she watches the video below and gets teary around minute 2:07, then she might need to read Graceful. (but she can't skip to 2:07 – she has to watch the whole thing).


If you are a high school girl, have a high school girl, or lead a small group of high school girls, here are some free resources that might be of help or encouragement to you as you consider reading or leading a small group through Graceful.

Free Small Group Leader Guide
Six-week guide for small group leaders to lead girls through the book. Complete with questions, examples and illustration suggestions.

Flyer for Youth Pastors
Like what you know about Graceful so far? Want to help spread the word? Download or forward this flyer to the youth leaders or pastor at your church.

Would love to hear from you today! Have you read the book on your own or with a group? What was your experience?

Do you have any questions for me? I'm (mostly) willing to answer anything.



You can also find me on Twitter @emilypfreeman

on Facebook

or on my blog, Chatting at the Sky.

[Judy Harder]

A Cup of Soup and Love
Nov 15, 2012 08:44 am | Jessica Turner


I love cooking this time of year.

Crock pot stews and soups are my favorites – comfort food that warms you to the soul level.

Recently I was cooking some soup for a family dinner. My new Love Came Down soup cups and tureen had arrived in the mail and I was excited to put them to good use.

And so I chopped and sauteed vegetables while thinking of Love coming down to earth as a baby 2,000 years ago.

My mind drifted to Mary and what it must have been like to carry the Son of God.

And to Joseph and what those nine months must have been like for him.

And of course to that night in the stable. The birth. Those first moments as a family.

{Makes me think of the Joy Williams' song Wish...}

It's funny how often I meet Jesus in the kitchen. Maybe it is the methodical tasks that free my mind to wander to the holy. Or maybe it's the tangible messages of love and grace on the dishes stacked on my countertop.

No greater love than Jesus.

Yes. This.

I want to drink that message this Christmas season in the same way I drink deep the hot broth of my vegetable soup.

So deep that it fills me to the soul level and makes me burn with a passion that can only be the Holy Spirit in me.

I love having reminders of the why of the season around my house.

Don't you?




Journeying Together
Nov 15, 2012 12:20 am | Lisa Leonard

A few days after my first son was born I had terrible abdominal pain. His labor had been induced, complete with epidural, so this pain was quite literally the worst physical pain I'd ever experienced in my life. On top of that, our baby boy was in the newborn intensive care unit with major health issues threatening his life. I was undone. Between the physical pain and the emotional pain, I couldn't sit, I couldn't stand, I couldn't speak and I couldn't hear. As the pain physical pain intensified, I ran to the bathroom to throw up, but once I got there, I quickly laid down on the cold tile for fear I was going to faint. I was inconsolable.

My husband helped me over to our bed and lay beside me. For an hour he simply laid beside me and softly rubbed my arm, while I cried and moaned. His hand on my arm and that soothing touch felt like my only connection to sanity. I focused all of my attention on his soothing touch. At some point I drifted off to sleep and woke in the morning feeling exhausted but free from physical pain.

That was over ten years ago. And I often go back to that vivid memory when I'm sitting with someone who is experiencing excruciating pain. There are no words to make it better. There is no easy answer that will make the situation better. Dare I say it? There is no verse that will take away the sting. I remind myself how much I needed to feel someone by my side when I experienced that terrible pain years earlier. And in those moments, I know, all that is required of me is to be there. To sit beside my friend and just be. To listen. To cry with her. To hold her while she hurts and to be willing to journey though the pain with her.

Sometimes journeying together is done quietly. It's a steady, unwavering love. A willingness to enter into the darkest places and simply stay by someone's side.

Can you think of a time when you needed a friend or when a friend sat with you. Perhaps nothing was said, you simply grieved together?

Won't you share in the comments so we can take courage in one another?





What Your Facial Expression Says
Nov 15, 2012 12:10 am | Nikole Hahn

"Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves." Romans 12:10 NIV

They used to tell me during my training at Bank of America, "Smile. They can't see your expression over the phone, but when you're smiling it shows through your voice." I've always put that tidbit of wisdom in my mind to retrieve later. It made sense even to twenty-something year old me, and it has stayed with me now at thirty-something. Recently, a comment reminded me that this saying is also true in the spiritual sense.

If we're busy in our mind putting down something like the color of the carpet or someone's actions, your dark thoughts will show on your expression. The small muscles in your face tense and your eyes will look too sharp. This makes a person unapproachable. At church, if my mind fills with angry thoughts, my husband tells me I look like I am in a less than worshipful mood. How can I serve on days like that if I am too busy focusing on what I want rather than what others need?

So when I began instructing people on how to reach out to others, I said, "Smile. Make eye contact. Be approachable."

A person seeking a friend is only going to see my closed expression as I put down things or people, and they will keep their cares to themselves. They will go somewhere else. So the wisdom that Bank of America has taught me during those younger years are still true today, but with a slight alteration:

"Smile. You may not agree with someone or something, but when you're smiling and focused on others you're less apt to complain about trivial matters."

What can I pray about for you?

[Judy Harder]

Grace Before
Nov 16, 2012 12:20 am | Tsh Oxenreider




I admit that I struggle a bit with that one well-known story about Susannah Wesley, mother of 19, who would pull her apron over her head when she needed alone time to pray. She'd manage to find a moment of quiet amidst the chaos around her (I mean, can you imagine?) in order to commune with God.

I struggle with that because I forget to do that. When I'm filling the CrockPot in the morning for dinner because it's one-of-those-days, I don't remember to stop what I'm doing, close my eyes, and pray for those mouths that will later eat this food.

And I admit that when I'm reading evening devotions with my daughter just before I kiss her goodnight, my eyes fade and my mind checks out a bit. It's not that I don't want her to imbibe all these good words into her heart—it's that I'm about to pass out, I'm so tired from the day's work.

It's times like these that I remember the necessity of thanking God as we work. Yes, we should be still and commune with God. But there are seasons in life—such as parenting little ones—that make it challenging to grab more than a few minutes of stillness before God.



I believe that a regular, thankful spirit of gratitude is communing with God. Being grateful for all the forks and spoons as I set them on the table, and that we have food to put on them. Remembering the small, simple ways I can weld my soul to God's my filling my words, actions, and thoughts with gratitude:

• Choosing to not complain when the many things we own are strewn about our warm house that provides a roof over our heads.

• Taking my kids to the grocery store, so that they see me make food choices that are healthy for our bodies and our budget—gratitude by way of stewardship.

• Making a list of that for which we as a family are thankful, and displaying it as a reminder.

• Taking good care of our possessions, out of gratitude for our abundance. (Which reminds me, I need to clean out the car.)

• Stopping and snuggling with my kids, smelling their hair as they lob yet another book on the couch, because these days fly by far too fast.

• Taking time to write our Compassion kids, because it makes all the difference in their lives, and it reminds my kids that we have so very much.

• Choosing to go with the flow during the hard days when nothing goes right (this happened last week)—and choosing to go to bed early that night, because His mercies are new every morning.

• Saying grace before almost everything—nothing poetic; just a simple breathing of "thank you" before I go running, before I write, before I wake up the kids for school, before I zip my debit card through the machine, before I fold the clothes. Thanking God for ALL THAT I HAVE and ALL THAT HE IS.

He is good. He is gracious. He is lavish. And He delights in us. There is much to thank Him for as we wash the dishes and wait in the carpool line.

What's one way you whisper gratitude as you go about your day?

By Tsh, Simple Mom

[Judy Harder]

A Sunday Scripture
Nov 18, 2012 12:40 am | incourage




Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation,
by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving,
present your requests to God.

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding,
will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:5-7

[Judy Harder]

For Them.
Nov 19, 2012 08:43 am | Annie Downs


Photo by Dawn Camp

This was always for them. The twenty or so teenage girls who would show up at my house on Monday nights.

They weren't a quiet bunch, in general, but that never seems to be the crowd that is drawn to me [not surprising]. Many of the girls I had known for years. Growing up in the same church where I now led a high school girls Bible study meant many of the same little children that I used to babysit or watch in the nursery were now sitting in a circle on my kitchen floor bemoaning the trials of high school.

It was our second school year of the She-Ra Bible Study. The boys met simultaneously at another home, they were called He-Man, so it only seemed fitting that we would invoke the name of his feminine and muscular counterpart. At the beginning of each semester, the senior girls and I would grab lunch and then head to the local Christian bookstore to decide on a direction for the She-Ra Bible Study.

This particular day, the four girls and I had soup in a bread bowl and then spent almost forty minutes perusing the young adult section of our local shop. Nothing really sparked their interest, nothing challenged them right in their spot of need.

We left empty-handed. I honestly didn't know what we were going to do. I shrugged my shoulders as we headed back to my Toyota Camry and loaded up. Before the fourth door slammed, Ashley leaned forward and said, "You know what, Annie? Why don't you just tell us some stories?"

And it clicked in my mind. Yep, I can do that. I'm a talker by nature, to be certain, and my love of writing had recently been set ablaze thanks to a Beth Moore Bible study in which I was participating. So I agreed and set to work.

A 4th grade school teacher during the week, I began spending my Saturday mornings hunkered down at my kitchen table, resources spread out, coffee in a mug, and music playing through the house. Fairly early on, I felt God download an outline of sorts- body parts. Start at the head, work down to the feet, write stories about how to worship Him with what He had given us, all based on Romans 6.

Romans 6:13
Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness.

See, many of my She-Ra girls were in a unique place in their faith walks. These girls were committed to Christ, serious about their faith, but unsure of how to grow deeper as a teenager. We didn't need to talk about how to resist getting drunk, we needed to talk about how to resist gossip. I wasn't worried about whether they would show up to church, I wanted them to show up to serve at the soup kitchen in town. It was about their hearts, not their actions. And since I had known many of them for years (and, even though they hate this fact, I had changed many of their diapers in years past), I knew them really well.

So I wrote for them. I wrote for the girls that I knew. I wrote for the ones who showed up at my house, drank all my coffee and sampled any food they found. The ones who trusted me with their hearts, their struggles, their teenage years.

I would photocopy each chapter, or "lesson" as it was at the time, at the school where I worked and have them three-hole punched and ready to go when the girls showed up. With their coffee snack, highlighter, Bible, and stack of papers, they would spread out all over my house. While music played over the speakers, a hush would fall as the girls dove in. It was a dream come true for me- I bought a house specifically hoping and praying for moments like these- when every room was full of teenaged girls digging into the Word and pursuing deeper relationship with Jesus.

So they would read. Highlight. Make notes. And then we would come back together and talk about it. Before I even had the twinkle in my eye about making these pages into a real book, I made notes as they talked. What they loved and wanted more of, I highlighted. What they didn't understand, I made a mark to myself. What they hated, I crossed out. Mainly for my own knowledge and for future Bible study writings, I wanted to remember the things that teen girls didn't connect with easily and the parts that moved them.

A few years later, those girls have gone off to college, gotten married, had babies, started churches with their husbands, moved to the mission field. And that little notebook of photocopied stories? It's a real book- Perfectly Unique- that many more girls are reading than I could have ever imagined.

Every email from a reader of Perfectly Unique surprises me. The girl in Canada that is finally learning to love herself. The mom in New York who feels like she is better equipped to mentor her daughter. The college student in Alabama who simply needed permission to dream about missions. They are dear to me- even the idea that God would take these writings out of my hand and launch it into the hands of many women who are knowing Him better because of it? It's almost too much for my emotions to handle. I am so honored to be a part of this story, a part of each of the women's stories who read Perfectly Unique and learn how to better love God, love themselves, and love others.

I am so glad that teen girls around the world are reading this book. But in my heart, and in the hearts of those twenty gals from Marietta, Georgia, that are no longer in my living room but instead spread across the globe, serving God in their own ways. This was always for them."

***



Annie Downs is an author and speaker who loves living in Nashville, Tennessee. Flawed but funny, she uses her writing to highlight the everyday goodness of a real and present God. Her first book, Perfectly Unique, released in stores September 2012.  Find the book at DaySpring.com for only $7.99. Read more at annieblogs.com

Tune back in to Bloom (in)courage on Wednesday for a Perfectly Unique Giveaway!







How To Change The World By Christmas
Nov 19, 2012 12:20 am | Deidra


I went to Haiti as part of a team of bloggers with Help One Now, and when I came back, I was convinced of this one thing: As part of the body of Christ, you and I have the power and the resources to change the world. We can put an end to poverty. I'm sure of it.


We can definitely change the world by Christmas. And we can do it without spending anything more than what we've already planned.



Here's the thing. We are all going to shop for stuff. We're going to make airline reservations. We're going to buy holiday presents. We're going to get dog food or cat food or fish food. We're going to download music from iTunes. We're going to get batteries for the remote control or for the garage door opener or for the flashlight we keep in the glove box. And, of all the spending we do each year, we're going to do 40% of it between now and December 25th!

So, what if we could leverage the spending we're going to do anyway, redirect a portion of it to raise $100K to fund the Legacy Project, and build that school for 150 of the beautiful children living in Haiti?

You and I, working together with Help One Now, and the incredible people at Pure Charity, can make it happen.



Pure Charity has partnered with more than 1,000 (1,000!) online retailers! Sign up for a Pure Charity account and, when you shop online and buy stuff, a portion of what you spend goes directly to your Pure Charity giving account. Then, you get to decide how that money gets spent!

Now, if you're like me (and by that, I mean, a bit skeptical), you're thinking these shops aren't the shops where you'd normally buy stuff. But wait! Not so fast. Do any of these online spots sound familiar to you?

Apple, ALDO, Petco, Best Buy, DSW, Banana Republic, American Eagle, Ann Taylor, Ann Taylor LOFT, Crocs, Eddie Bauer, Holiday Inn, American Eagle, Enterprise, Marriott, Kohl's, J. Crew, Charlotte Russe, Pottery Barn, Family Christian Stores, Avenue, Southwest Airlines, 7 For All Mankind, Priceline, Bloomingdale's, Dillard's, Petsmart, Groupon, Target, Walmart, Walgreen's

Exactly! And, that's not even the tip of the iceberg. We can change the world, simply by shopping online at the places we already shop. Here's how:

Sign up for a Pure Charity account. ("Follow" me, and then scroll down to "Get Started" and set up your own account. Following each other means our giving is compounded, and that means we'll change the world even faster!) If you're on Facebook, you can sign in through that, or create an account the old fashioned way.
Install the browser plugin. This will make it so a Pure Charity icon will pop up when you're browsing particular stores online (like Target, Gap, even Groupon). If you purchase via the pop up, a percentage of your sales will feed into your charitable giving account. (You spend $, then make $, then give $).
Register your main credit card with Pure Charity. This is the no-brainer part of the process. When you shop, every time you use your credit or debit card at one of their participating merchants, you receive a percentage of your purchase into your giving account.
Now, browse the projects (there are many) that you could potentially fund.
Support your favorite project. We would be thrilled if you'd fund The Legacy Project (to support the current phase, go here), and help build a school for the children at the Yaveh Shemah Home for Children (via bank or debit/credit card). All projects are time specific, with a set amount of $. If that project doesn't fund by the finish date, Pure Charity refunds the money back into your giving account.
Share it with friends! There's a strong social connection to this (a good reason to sign in using Facebook), where you can share buttons and widgets with your friends and followers, to generate interest in a cause you're passionate about.
If you're looking to change the world, this is one way to make it happen.

Will you please open your own Pure Charity account and help fund the Legacy Project? Will you please tell your friends? Will you talk about the Legacy Project and Pure Charity on Facebook and Twitter and wherever else your tribe hangs out?

This is you. This is me. This is us. Changing the world.

 

[Judy Harder]

Do Less Be More
Nov 20, 2012 12:25 am | The Nester




Every year I write a post called Do Less Be More.  And every year I wonder if I really do it.  It's fun to declare what I'm not doing and wag my finger at Christmas stress before Thanksgiving.   But it doesn't really matter unless I follow through.

Here are my main three ideas that I want to do this Christmas season:

Focus on People

Say yes to friends, snuggle with my boys and husband, enjoy doing things together even the things I wouldn't choose to do.

Be Generous

With my time and money and be mindful of others, that last one seems so simple but I feel like I haven't had my brain for the past two months and being mindful has somehow escaped me.

Slow the Season

Avoid hurry.  Watch White Christmas too many times.   Cook lots of meals.  Sit on the sofa with friends.  Take walks in the cold. Keep the computer closed. Rejoice, with the weary world.



Come visit me today at Nesting Place to read what I'm NOT doing this season and for your chance to win over $700 in prizes from DaySpring!

But first, what are you saying YES to this season?






Queen Naina {A JOYN Story}
Nov 20, 2012 12:10 am | Melody Murray




At the very heart of JOYN is to see lives changed.  Changed lives – it's why we do what we do. Our artisans live in some of the most difficult environments in the world and it is our desire to connect them with opportunities for change. Our passion is to bring JOY to them, to their families, to their communities. We bring this JOY by providing them with sustainable markets and good design for their products. We use fashion to create better lives.

JOYN gives more than markets. We are passionate about a holistic approach to change – we provide our artisans with good work environments, eduction for their children, english and vocational training, medical care for their families. All over the majority world you can find artisans with handcrafting skills, but very rarely can these individuals sustain their families on their own efforts. They need markets. They need connections. They need opportunities. When we provide these opportunities, we change lives. Its that simple.


We have the privilege of working with over 40 artisans who work in one of the most challenging environments in the world. At JOYN, we utilize as many hand made processes as possible, so we can create as many jobs as possible. Because each item is made by hand, each item is unique and loaded with quality. To learn more about our process, click here.



***


I awoke to a knock at the door and the light had just barely decided to get up, so I knew it couldn't be much past 6am. Iʼve always found it difficult to find just the right articles of clothing to throw on my body in order to feel decent enough to answer the door quickly, but I managed this time without waking too many other sleepers.

I heard her speak softly to me as I cracked open the door, "maʼam...maʼam". It was Naina. She has a face, a voice, a walk, a talk, a past, thatʼs so recognizable...you canʼt miss her. Sheʼs "Queen Naina" as some say – her dynasty and dominion reigns over the streets of our town.

Sheʼs grown up begging. Forced to beg.  She has family, but for some reason, in this crooked, broken world, they decided that once she could walk, she should spend her days out on the street holding her hand out, drooping her eyes, maiming her body so that she could make them a few bucks a day. Its so backwards I canʼt even allow my mind to think on it too long without an anger welling up in me that makes me scared of my own self.

Sheʼs 13.
We think.

She just got married off to a 30 year old last month. We think. She ran away from him last night and has now come to my house. She said she was hungry. My husband made her an omelet. Probably the first meal sheʼs ever received home cooked by an amazing dad. What now.



Iʼm 33 and mother of the two sweetest, cutest little rascals I could have ever wished for – five & six, brothers, built-in best friends. They race in for breakfast and greet Naina with a "good morning." Levi sings her a ditty and hops his zebra over her arms as she eats. Micah sits across the table noting intelligently that he really likes how Papa made his egg today, sunny-side up.

He has a current obsession with the various ways of cooking eggs. Naina's just taking it all in. I look at Naina as she snarfs down her egg and she looks at me. She smiles as we sit around the breakfast table, probably something sheʼs never experienced before.

I have nothing in common with Naina. Nothing. Iʼve tried to relate, but how can you really understand someone whoʼs lived a life on the streets of India, scheming up every meal, racing toward any adult who appears to have money, only to stoop so low as to hold your hand out and yank on their shirt until they hopefully drop a few rupees in your palm?

For Naina's whole life, her neuropathways have carried messages of fear, doubt, distrust, anxiety. How do you convince someone you care for them or that you wonʼt hurt them, when they have no context for the ideas of love and trust?

My life is as opposite as it gets. Privileged, blessed, fortunate – these words donʼt even seem to bring the comparison justice. I have had amazing parents, an ideal childhood, a good education and all the support, opportunities, and resources I could ever need to live a life full of good, joy, peace, ease. Sure, Iʼm normal. Iʼve had hard times, hard things happen, hurt. But sometimes I donʼt think I know what trial actually means.

I often think about how I couldʼve been Naina – or any of the other street beggars, lepers, handicapped, outcast, marginalized folks I see daily here. You might think some of them deserve it, but reality is that they were born into this life.

I was born into mine.
You were born into yours. What to do with this mystery?!



I donʼt know much about how to do this. How to live a life among the poor and offer hope, love, Jesus. I often find myself frozen with feelings of inadequacy and confusion. But I do know one thing and I seem to know it more every day.

I understand grace better now. Each day that I come into contact with the poor, each day that I see the brokenness in this world, each day that I open my door to a Naina, I end the day baffled by Godʼs love and provision for me. Undeserved. Undeniable. Oh how marvelous. How wonderful.

Can you imagine what it would be like for Naina to find it? To understand and claim Godʼs grace over her life, and her past? To see who she is in him, and how much he loves her? To see him begin to mend broken things around her? What a day that would be. Not Queen Naina of the Streets, but Princess Naina, beloved daughter of the Creator King of the Universe.

She finished her eggs and said she needed to get back home. I told her weʼd be here, and that this will always be a safe place for her. Itʼs 6:20 the next morning as I write this. The grey light is just fading in over the hills. My slippers and sleep pants are sitting next to my bed this morning.

I await my next reminder of His grace and love and my chance to share it.

By: Melody Murray, JOYN Founder

[Judy Harder]

Coming Out of Hiding
Nov 24, 2012 12:20 am | Sarah Mae




"God calls us, as He did Adam, to come out of hiding. No amount of spiritual makeup can render us more presentable to Him." -Brennan Manning, Abba's Child

Naked.

Totally exposed; completely bare; free.

For awhile now the clothes have been coming off, piece by piece, as I discover how bare I actually already am, and what it means to really be covered.

The first covering was given to Adam and Eve when they realized just how bare they were; it was uncomfortable and embarrassing; there was shame brought on by the fact that their sin was exposed. They were naked, and they knew it, and so they hid from the One who knew their nakedness before they did. For their sake, and out of His kindness, God covered them in a coat made of skin (Genesis 3:21). You don't get skin without the kill. And so there it was, the first sacrifice, the spill of blood so that the people would be covered and their shame hidden.

And still we hide. Even though God knows every woven piece of our being, we hide. Our eyes are wide open to our failures, and so we cover because we don't want to be found out. We give pretense and we try to be and do in order to be accepted and loved, but what we forget is that God sees past all of it; He's sees our bare selves and He loves us anyway. We can't be more or better and think that we will some how get closer or be more loved by God; He loves us in spite of ourselves. And yet, He offers a covering still. He offers a covering of blood so that will be free to walk with Him in the garden without shame or pretense or posturing.

He offers the opportunity for freedom.

Our new covering is on the inside, over our spirits, and it transforms us from being shackled to sin and frees us to stretch into our new selves without fear.

We don't have to hide from God (this is actually impossible anyway), and we don't have to hide from people (oh, this one is possibe, and quite frequent).

We are cracked and swollen and desperate. And He already knows our mess.

I'm saying, let's be messy and honest. Let's not try to super glue the cracks, but instead let the Holy Spirit work through them to bring light to a messy world. You can't let your light shine if you try to patch up the cracks.

So here  I am, losing my clothes, getting closer to naked. I wonder if this is really what sanctification is about? Not becoming more, but becoming less, until we are fully bare.

Covered yet naked. A gracious mystery that I am falling into. And it's gloriously freeing.

"If we conceal our wounds out of fear and shame, our inner darkness can neither be illuminated nor become a light for others." -Brennan Manning, Abba's Child

By Sarah Mae

[Judy Harder]

The difference between asking how I can pray for you and praying for you
Nov 27, 2012 12:20 am | Robin Dance




Timing for a girls' weekend couldn't have been more perfect (at what age do I have to call us "ladies"? Never, please?).  I was home from Germany for only four weeks and the getaway just happened to coincide.

This group picks up right where we left off; commas end our good-byes.  Soon enough, conversation gurgles and swirls, an easy-flowing meander in the way men will never understand but women intrinsically know.  Talk was common, the parts of our lives we miss during the in-between, the long gaps of not being with one another, the game of catch-up.

They wanted to know about Germany, and because (understandably) I've been asked so many times, I felt like the little old lady who tells you EXACTLY how she is when you ask, reciting acres of infirmity.  Except these days, due to my husband's job, my list sounds like an ad for Travelocity.

How do you explain your impressions after drinking from a gushing fire hydrant for seven months? 

I give a condensed, practiced response, the one I share until and unless someone really wants to know more.

One of my girlfriends wants to know more, but it's not about Germany, per se; she wants to know about me.  And, yes, her lips are doing the asking but, my God, her eyes are penetrating mine and she takes hold of my heart, and with both hands squeezing, wrings hard.

"How are you doing with all the changes you've gone through the past year?  How's your heart doing?"

I hadn't seen it coming.  Buoyed by laughter and connection and stories, sitting on that bedroom floor with the wall holding me up, I didn't realize my guard was completely down.
I shook my head slowly no, unable to speak, tears burning my throat and stinging my eyes, my own body betraying me...revealing secret hurts.  Relational void, disappointment, rejection, loss.  These are First-World Problems I've convinced myself, only someone with material excess would dare to ache over these things.  I've never worried about my next meal or clothes or a roof; my marriage is 25 years strong and my husband loves me more now than he did then, and my three children are well on their way to becoming the young adults I prayed they would be.

How dare I complain out loud or to myself when blessing abounds?  The material, yes, but every spiritual blessing, too.

* * * * * * * * * * *

For most of my years, life has been filled to the overflow.  I'm naturally wired to see half-full glasses and silvery linings and shiny bright sides.

And yet here I am, barely able to speak, exposed, in front of God and e v e r y b o d y.

This season of Eeyore was foreign, unwelcome, uncomfortable...and messin' with my head, heart and soul something fierce.  You see, I'm inclined to believe life isn't fair; not in the "poor me" kind of way, but quite the opposite:  it's not fair how much I've received.  I was fighting the urge to look at the Unfair Life from the other side.

In this fallen paradise, though, isn't the Unfair Life this life?  Doesn't it serve to remind us we're not made for this world?  Is it not the Unfair Life that stirs a longing for Eternity's door?
And yet, there's this Kingdom life, here and now; and is the source of my heartache that I forget where I live, that I sink like Peter because I'm too busy looking at the waves, and without even realizing it, forget that Jesus is right there?
* * * * * * * * * * *

Her question was match lighting soggy fuse and it didn't do me a bit of good to try to stop those blasted waterworks.

Just then, Jesus-with-skin-on opened her mouth.
"Come right here," she said, patting an empty spot on the bed next to her.  "We're gonna pray for you."

I shook my head no again and whispered I can't and she gently insisted Yes you can...right here (patpatpat).

All the other ones gathered round and close.  They touched me with their hands and with their hearts and with their words.  They pressed blessing and understanding and healing deep, deep, deep into marrow.

How did they know exactly what to pray?  I hadn't given them details–but in the beautiful, mysterious ways of God, He led them through the veins of my ache and ministered love through these heart sisters.

It could have gone another way, it certainly has plenty of times before.  No telling how many times I've been asked "How can we pray for you?"; probably the same number of times I've asked "How can I pray for you?" 

Sharing prayer requests can be a good thing, communicating information that might not otherwise be known.  But so many times in my experience, we've done more talking about the requests than praying for them.
That day sitting in the center of a bed raw and exposed and snubbing like a baby, with sister-friends surrounding me and loving me out loud, I needed the difference between talking about and praying for.  Even if it was a little awkward and I was embarrassed later.

Those holy moments of intercession and my friend's divine prompting to PRAY and not ASK, have had a beautiful, residual affect in my own life beginning with my own children less than 48 hours later.

Tell me your stories; as you read my account, did it spark a memory when someone prayed for you and it made all the difference in the world to your battered heart?  Or perhaps a time you prayed for someone in the moment?  Or maybe when you've been too timid to pray right then, and instead asked how you could pray later?   These are the stories of our lives ~ "...let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds," okay?

If you're a parent to a college student or know others who are, I've found a wonderful prayer guide to lead you in praying for this challenging and demanding time of life.  Might you share it with your college pastor or someone you care about?

By Robin Dance, author of PENSIEVE, who's patting the spot next to her, gently insisting for you to Come here!






The Year Of Saying Yes
Nov 27, 2012 12:10 am | Katie


For the last six years of being a mother, I have found that I have been reluctant to say "yes" to things outside of my family.  I have felt like my priority had to be my family.

While I know there are certain seasons in life when we cannot say "yes" to a lot of extra activities- I found that there was a deeper issue why I was reluctant.  I was afraid to say yes.  I've been asked in years passed to step into leadership roles and I have usually declined.

The root cause of my declining I have figured out is fear.

This past spring, the call came from a gal with my MOPS group asking if I would prayerfully consider being one of two coordinators for the following year.  Me?  Coordinator?  With all honesty I thought she had confused me with another woman in the group.

I could not fathom standing up in front of the group leading women in prayer and having all eyes on me.

Do they not know who I am?  I have shortcomings and failures!  Lots of them!  How could I stand up in front and be seen as a leader?

But, then I began to focus on the calling rather than on what I thought of myself.   

My husband was on board and encouraged me to say yes.  After more praying, I felt like this was God knocking and I needed to answer.  I was comforted by the saying that goes "God equips those that He calls."  I was gaining confidence that this was what I was being called to do.

So after a summer of training/praying/and preparing for this MOPS year along with other mothers who said yes to leadership roles- I have been encouraged and amazingly inspired seeing God at work.  God has been equipping me for this role all along.

Our first meeting has come and gone.  I stood up in front of 60 ladies and by nothing short of a miracle; I stood solid, not shaking like a leaf.  I served these ladies with a glad heart.  I prayed for them all summer and knew God lead them there to our group for a purpose.

The biggest lesson through this experience was figuring out, that it is not about me.  It had nothing to do with how I looked, or how eloquently I spoke.

I was so focused on myself that I could not say yes before.  I was so focused on my inadequacies and insecurities and doubts that I would not allow God to do a good work through me.  By laying down my life and saying yes, use me Lord, I have experienced true joy and contentment that I have not experienced before; from serving others and being the hands and feet of Jesus.

I encourage you, too, to say yes.

We are not all called to EVERYTHING, but all of us are called to something.  What is your something?

It might be uncomfortable that which we are being called to.  It might feel like a joke, like, really me?  Why would I be good at that?  Sometimes it is not about being the best at something, or the smartest, or wittiest, or most talented.

God uses us ordinary women to do extraordinary things for His glory, and all we have to do is say yes.



By Katie Brown, Simple & Special

[Judy Harder]

The Christmas Party that Almost Wasn't
Nov 28, 2012 12:20 am | Jennifer Schmidt




The phone rang, and I just knew it was someone calling about the party.

My stomach sank, and I got that nervous tummy feeling. You know that one that happens when you're tongue tied and the words wont come? The one when multiple conversations play over in your head at breakneck speed, while you try and predict each outcome? Yes, I knew you understood that nervous tummy feeling.

I debated letting the answering machine pick it up, but I knew it was delaying the inevitable.

I glanced around my kitchen and great room. With a plethora of Christmas boxes straggled everywhere, loads of laundry piled on the sofa, and three fully packed suitcases waiting by the stairs, my home didn't caress, "Welcome, I'm so glad you're here." It screamed, "Stay away if you fear for your life."



It was obvious that I needed to cancel the Christmas party scheduled to be held at our home later that evening.

Having been called out of town unexpectedly the previous week, I knew these ladies would understand. I wasn't ready for them, and my house surely wasn't "Christmas party ready."

"Jen, I deleted the email. What time does the ladies night out start tonight?"

I paused. It was the moment of truth. How should I respond? I certainly knew how I wanted to respond.

The Martha Stewart side of me taunted, "Just cancel. They will completely understand. You're not really going to invite them in when your tree isn't even trimmed, are you? I mean look around. One can only get so much done in five hours, and even I can't touch this mess."

But then I heard that still small voice whisper. Truthfully, it sounded more like a scream, and it shouted, "Jen, is your definition of hospitality always supposed to be convenient and comfortable? Do you remember the verse you often reference from 1 Peter 4:9: 'Show hospitality to one another without grumbling,' or what about Romans 12:13′s command, 'Seek to show hospitality or Practice hospitality.' Do you mean it? Why would you cancel tonight? These women are looking forward to gathering at your home."

It's as if I could hear the words from my very own "Welcome Home Hospitality" workshop speaking right at me, and honestly, I needed a bit of a finger wave right in the face at that moment.

Do I invite others into my home only when it's on my terms? Do I? Oh my, I think I might.

What's my purpose in hosting friends or even strangers? Is it to cultivate a spirit of welcome and encouragement; to minister to others, or is it self serving in any way?


I picked up the phone.



"Hey there. It starts at 7:00, but just get here when ever you can. I can't wait to see you."

The clean laundry repositioned itself from the down stairs sofa to my upstairs bedroom sofa. The suitcases were tucked away in a closet. Five large Rubbermaid containers sat patiently in a corner, giving a whole new meaning to interesting party decor, and I quickly prepared an easy, but delicious, cheeseball, alongside my famous Sour Cream Banana Cake (shh, it starts with cake mix, but no one will ever know when you bake them in cute, little pans.) When asked what they could bring, I decided to let them help. Sweet or salty. Whatever is easiest.

White lights sparkled on the tree, but not one ornament adorned its branches.

It was OK. I was OK. I had been released from the bondage of needing approval. It was going to be a great night.

A few hours later, women poured into my home, and that tight knot that I'd been feeling all day disappeared.



Why?

Because these ladies just wanted to share life together, and listen to each others stories. They wanted to laugh and talk and commiserate together. They didn't care if my tree trimming mimicked Martha's. In fact, I am quite certain I heard a few sighs of relief when they walked through my door because not one of us can do it all, yet sometimes we just need to be assured that it's true. We need to see another person's "bedlam" up close and personal to be certain.

And they saw mine up close alright.

In fact, as I started to apologize and explain the situation (yes, I broke my first rule of hospitality – never apologize for ones home, although this deemed a plausible exception to that rule), one precious friend decided, "Let's all help Jen finish her tree."



And so they did, and it was all as it should be. Friends helping friends. Tearing down masks. Climbing on chairs. Sharing Life together.

That night a few years ago, sparked so many thoughts about hospitality for me.

I often wonder why we make opening our home to others so difficult?

Yet, it is. It makes us nervous and tentative and self conscious.

Sweet friends. Hospitality isn't about creating a Pinterest perfect home. It's not even about the yummy food, although I love to create in the kitchen.

It's about just deciding, "Yes, I am available: when ever, for whomever."

This holiday season, let's not over think it. Let's not make hospitality something it's not. Let's not second guess our abilities. Let's just determine, "Yes, I will take that first step and extend an invitation."



Let's make ourselves available and then watch how this whole wonderful thing unfolds, OK?

One woman. One invitation. One opportunity for the Lord to do something simply amazing.

I'm passionate about encouraging and equipping women in opening their homes to others, but I know there are so many reservations. Maybe we can help break down the barriers and figure out some answers to why this is something so difficult for most of us.

Would you care to share in the comments? Did my story resonate?

Maybe you have a hospitality story you'd like to share (the good, bad and ugly stories are all welcome.). I sure would love to hear it.

Written by Jen, who shares her journey at Balancing Beauty and Bedlam, along with her newly launched blog, 10 Minute Dinners.

[Judy Harder]

No More Fairytales: Faith is A New Kind of Family
Nov 30, 2012 12:20 am | Bonnie Gray


Psst. Guess what.

I don't want to tell you this.

But, it's true.

I wasn't able to celebrate the holidays the way we all dreamed for ourselves, as a child.

A momma.
A papa.
Aunts and uncles.
And a gaggle full of cousins.

Instead, my husband Eric and I packed up a 9×13 pan of scalloped potatoes, along with four bottles of Martinelli's apple cider into the back trunk, and buckled our three year old CJ and six year old TJ in the back seat.

I turned back to smile at the boys and said, "Isn't this going to be fun? We're going to Auntie Merrianne's and Uncle Roderick's for Thanksgiving!"

But, as we drove off into the cold November air onto the freeway that quiet afternoon, I wondered — What does Jesus think of all this? Celebrating with friends, instead of my family of origin?

Because the truth is, you see, Merrianne isn't really my sister. And Roderick isn't my brother-in-law.  But, she's the closest thing I've come by for a big sister.

I met her when I was just twelve.  Merrianne was my junior high Sunday School teacher, a recent college grad herself.  She became the first person to disciple me.  She was the first person to sit across from me in our tofu-sized dining table, sitting in a grimy, dimpled floor kitchen every Wednesday afternoon. It was a two-person book club really.  We'd just talk through book topics and pray.

After I went away to college, we didn't spend that much time together.  I was often busy.  But, she always made it a point to touch base with me, even if it meant swapping voicemails.  And when too much time passed between seeing each other, Merrianne would call to stop by.  Even if it was just half an hour.  She had the gift of hospitality and it wasn't limited to her home.  She would come to mine.

Even though I trusted her with a lot of my secrets, I never told Merrianne the truth of how dysfunctional my family life was growing up, how truly lonely and afraid I was.

It was a family code that had always been understood, that I never wanted to break.

Never talk bad about your family.  Ever.

The Message of Family
Like a sapling planted right under the downspout of a gutter, this message of family soaked down deep into the soil of my childhood, down to the roots.  The fear and shame of coming from a broken family seeped into my faith.  I never wanted to be seen as ungrateful or untrusting of God.

I thought having faith in God meant not allowing anything difficult to break me, to never truly be sad and to always love by taking care of everyone and everything.  I somehow adopted the notion that walking by faith meant being strong enough to cover the cracks that made life painful and putting the past behind me.

But, what I was really doing was surviving.  I was ignoring the past, rather than facing the truth of it.

Because facing the truth forces us to make extremely deep and difficult changes. It calls us to truly walk by faith — into the unknown.  It requires courage because we don't know what life looks like on the other side of renovation.  We only see the tearing down and we don't want to walk into thin air.

When we are truly walking by faith, we must face what we fear the most:  we alone do not have the emotional resources to let go and embrace the reality of choices.

We realize we can't go it alone.  We need others who can be God's heart to listen to us, God's voice to welcome us, and God's hands to open the door and hug us.

The old messages from our broken family of origins teach us that the safest place is to suffer alone.  To keep silent and to never rock the boat.  To never need — to keep doing the same thing and hope that it gets better.

But, while writing a book earlier this year, I stumbled unexpectedly into PTS — post-traumatic stress.  My memories have been re-ignited and the truth of how much burden I've been carrying and the pressure of meeting others' expectations of me has been crushing.

That's why I called Merrianne.  I knew I needed to confide in someone, to help with the kids.  It's a risky and vulnerable position to be in.  Expressing need and asking for help.  It happens when you're used to surviving without family to count on.

But, I've learned that Jesus understands the loneliness and the isolation of family pain.  Jesus understands when we keep it in, it separates us from the rest of the world and makes us feel like an outsider, like damaged goods.

A New Inheritance
Jesus has been showing me He cares and He was there.

Jesus tells me there is no shame coming from a broken family.

Jesus tells me He's always known about my emotional needs and now, He doesn't want me to hide from them.

Jesus also tells me the choice to joy and peace isn't always smooth.  Because the truth wants to set us free from old patterns of coping with the unpleasant, especially if others are not happy with our choices.

So, for this Thanksgiving, I truly needed family to celebrate with.  People who I felt safe with, who really loved me and my family, without any strings attached.

So, when my oldest asked me why we were going to Auntie Merrianne's, I tell him what I can. "This year, we're doing something different, sweetie."

Even so, I spent the rest of the ride feeling the guilt of unreconciled conflict in my growing-up history. And now that I'm a mom myself, I wished more than anything I could fix things up, so my children could be spared of any broken stories.

I wanted them to have something I never had.

A fairytale family.

But, that's not the family I inherited.

Instead, God has given me a new kind of family to pass onto my boys.  A new inheritance.

It's a family that goes beyond what the holiday specials serve up on TV — beyond the Kodachrome images I've culled from storybook expectations throughout the years.

It's a family that Jesus talks about when He calls us brothers and sisters.

"While he was still talking to the crowd, his mother and brothers showed up.
They were outside trying to get a message to him.
Someone told Jesus, "Your mother and brothers are out here, wanting to speak with you."

Jesus didn't respond directly, but said, "Who do you think my mother and brothers are?"
He then stretched out his hand toward his disciples. "Look closely. These are my mother and brothers.
The person who obeys my heavenly Father's will is my brother and sister and mother."
~ Matthew 12:46-40

It's a family that goes deeper than blood.  It is spiritual.

This is the new family I'm creating now with my husband and my two children — along with the spiritual family God's brought into my life.

To gain this new family, it's required me to let go of my fairtytale family — to open up and share, in order to let others in. 

I am making the choice to break the old family code, to see if a new kind of family — the one I read about in the Scriptures — can come true for me.

I think of Jesus, how He spent his last meal with his spiritual family, confiding in the difficulty of the coming hours.   These are faith friends to share a meal with, have a conversation, hug through some unspoken tears and a bless each other with a smile.

This is the spiritual family who can bring me comfort and acceptance — during times that are uncertain, when I feel uncertain.

This new kind of family is one that Jesus offers to you and me:  God's family of faith.

Unashamed
It's hard to confess that holidays aren't perfect — especially when the truth for many of us, is that our earthly families have really hurt or neglected us.

It can feel embarrassing, when our families can't reflect the peace and unconditional love that we long for during the holiday season.  Especially as Christians, we can feel tremendous pressure to reconcile broken relationships all in these last weeks of the year. But, reconciliation isn't always possible because it involves two parties.  And so, even though we may forgive others, we still have to face the sadness of fractured relationships.

But, because of Jesus, we don't have to be imprisoned by this sorrow.

Although brokenness can't be erased on this side of heaven, Jesus can heal our hearts from the shame of hurtful family relationships.

Jesus Himself stands by us in the land of reality — calls us family — unashamed.

"So now Jesus and the ones he makes holy have the same Father.
That is why Jesus is not ashamed to call them his brothers and sisters."
~ Hebrews 2:11 

Jesus whispers –

I know what you long for.  You don't need a fairytale family to be part of mine.

Jesus is creating a new family with us — by bringing others to stand with us — unashamed — as new brothers and sisters.

A Whole New Way
If you're like me going through a difficult season of changes or facing a new reality, I'm sharing a bit of my story with you, in hopes of bringing you a word of encouragement, from one spiritual sister to another.

You might have a quiet holiday this year.  But, you are far from being alone.

It may not look the way it used to, but it can still be peaceful — even though it is going to look different.  Even though it is washed by the rush of tears.

You and I, after all, are not taking the easy way out.  We are walking through the narrow gate, onto a path that Jesus is calling us to step forward onto.

I'm writing today's post to you, trusting that I'm not the only one who is walking through the holidays by faith.

Join me, as I make my journey through this month, asking God how I can connect with Him — and others in God's family of faith — in the coming weeks.

It might mean for you, as it has been for me, simply letting others know the holiday is going to be a quiet one when they ask.

I don't give a lot of details, but I let them know this Thanksgiving or Christmas is going to be tough.

It's going to be a quiet holiday.  I need to break away from some dysfunctional family dynamics. I need to take care of me and my family this year.

I do get some prying questions, which are sincere and curious.  I just smile softly and say, "Yeah, I can't talk about it. Thanks for understanding."

But, I have found to my surprise, that a lot of people's response has been opening up about their own family difficulties, and their own childhood dynamics still at play with their parents.

I've discovered that maybe I'm not unlike a lot of people — who are going through a difficult time during the holidays.  And I don't feel so alone anymore.

Then, I tell them about Merrianne.  How I got invited to spend Thanksgiving with her family and how peaceful it was to eat a piece of pie at leisure and offer some leftover potatoes for others to take home.

I tell them how my kids call her Auntie and her husband Uncle.  I share how thankful I am for the spiritual family — how God makes up for our losses by blessing us with friends in the body of Christ, to become our sisters, our brothers — an extended family.

That's how I've explained why we're spending the holidays with friends who are family.

I tell them, "When God gave us Jesus, He also gave us a bigger family."

I've integrated this truth into the Christmas message with the kids this year:   when God sent Jesus into the world, He not only gave us His Son to come into our hearts, He gave us a beautiful new family to add to ours. 

God gave us a spiritual family, made of faith, so we can feel loved wherever we go and wherever we are in different seasons of life.

For some of you, you have been blessed by a family who has chosen faith in God, rather than fear and expectations, as the family code.   Like Merrianne, you can bless someone else by sharing what you have, by inviting someone over in this Christmas season.  It doesn't have to be the day of, if you have your special family traditions. You can invite them over before or even after.  I wanted you to know, it makes a difference.  You don't have to have a fairytale family either, to offer hospitality to someone this holiday season.

Give yourself the permission Jesus is offering to you.  Embrace the spiritual family He longs to bring into your story, to make tomorrow different from yesterday.

In fact, that's what I'm thinking as I look into the future of creating new family traditions with my husband and children.

I see a whole new way of celebrating the holidays.

No more fairytales.

More faith.

More friends who become family.



~~~~~

How is God calling you to step out by faith — and celebrate the holidays differently – this year?

What has God's spiritual family meant to you?

Pull up a chair. It would be great to have you share.  Click to comment.

~~~~~



By Bonnie Gray, the Faith Barista, serving up shots of faith for everyday life.