Posts

My Canvas

Lately my life feels a little like watching one of those cool artists who paints during seminars and conferences. The guy sets this huge canvas up on the stage and puts on cool music and starts throwing paint up there. It's a mess. But he is working so dramatically, and the colors are so vibrant, you keep watching. And at some point it begins to take shape. And then all at once you realize...there was a plan all along, and the scattered spots and swipes of paint take shape to make a beautiful image. And everyone gasps and begins cheering and we all ask each other: why couldn't we see it earlier? Here's an example if you've never seen it before:


Powerful Speed Painting of Jesus Will Leave You in Awe from inspiredfaith on GodTube.


I'm not gonna lie; the last couple of years have been rough. I've struggled with clinical depression and worked through some tough personal things. I couldn't really see where God was going with all of it. It felt messy, and pointles…

Renee's Heart

Image
My friend Renee suffered an excruciating and sudden tragedy last week. Those of us who know her are painfully aware this isn't her first time swimming through crashing waves of heartache and loss. I sat down this morning to write her something that would bring her comfort; something to soothe the cracks in her heart. I can't. That's the god-awful truth of the thing. We all know it.

You see, nothing is going to make this okay.

Doug and Renee's teenage daughter went to bed --- and woke up in heaven. No warning. Just like that. Gone.

Who am I to offer any kind of comfort to a family who is starting a new week without their girl? Let's be honest; even if God himself came down and gave them an explanation, it wouldn't be good enough. Lindsey is gone, and they didn't get to tell her goodbye or whisper love into her ear before she slipped away. It's not fair.

But here's the thing; even in the midst of her suffering, Renee sees light. Even in the dark craw…

Embrace Your Hike

Image
In May of 2016, my friend Alicia and I drove to the bay area for an Anne Lamott writing workshop. Listening to Anne Lamott speak is like eating a giant platter of noodles. Some are undercooked, some are mushy, some are all tangled up. But underneath piles of noodles are the most amazing meatballs I've ever tasted. And when I get a bite of perfectly cooked pasta with a savory, mouthwatering meatball...I just close my eyes and fall backwards straight into bliss.

Anne dished up a few meatballs during the workshop. Many of her words were about writing. But some of them were about life. A quote I wrote down in my journal was this:

"If you have a phone in your pocket, it's a whole different kind of hike."
Stop.

It reminded me of this picture. Just take 30 seconds and stare at it. Don't keep scrolling.



My phone keeps me connected with everyone I love and issues I care about. Some of my favorite memories are recorded in my phone. My parents are skilled in the emoji arts. …

My Little Secret

Image
So yeah, my last post was pretty personal. I've been working on my next book and I got a little excited and decided to blog something squidgy. Like an ass, I hit 'publish' before talking to my family about it.

I should have warned them before letting them know my cheese was sliding off my cracker. Well they aren't stupid so I suppose they KNEW, they just didn't realize why. Sorry, Mom and Dad.

Anyway, here we are. Everyone knows I'm struggling to some degree. We may as well talk about it. Eventually we're going to talk about fear and awkward moments and fiddle lessons and PSA scores and cheetas (not Cheetos, which are delicious) and churchyness and depression and chewing with our mouths open. But first let's talk a little about God.

Honestly, I've been wrestling with the whole "God is good all the time" thing. I've been a Christian for as long as I can remember. There really isn't a time in which I have questioned the goodness of G…

WHAT I KNOW

(This is an excerpt from the Intro to my next book, coming in 2017)

I’ve told the story my whole life.
My baby sister and I went with my Dad to pick up his paycheck. I was six, Rachel had just began toddling around on her chubby pink legs. We walked into an office and my dad stopped at a woman’s desk to chat. Rachel and I headed straight for the box of toys in the corner and dug around, looking for treasures. There was a coffee machine on the shelf above our heads. Rachel tugged on a cord and the coffee pot clattered down. She screamed while scalding dark liquid soaked her clothes. My dad was by our side in an instant. He scooped her up, ran to his truck and drove madly to the emergency room. My sister spent months in a burn center about an hour from our home. My parents found a place to stay near the hospital, and spent every moment caring for her. Eventually, the doctors told my parents they would need to do a procedure to pull back the damaged skin and see what was underneath. If…

Just get your caboose out there

Image
I started training for a 5k. WHAT?!




YEP.

One dark, rainy night I downloaded an app on my phone and followed the optimistic, slightly grating female computer voice who told me when to briskly walk and when to jog. For 31 excruciating minutes. I didn't stop, and I didn't die.

Huh.That's weird.

You see, I've told myself my whole life:

I'm just not athletic.I hate running.Runners are crazy.I look ridiculous when I run.I'm going to hurt myself and then die a slow, painful death.
But the truth is, I thought I couldn't do it. So I made fun of running. I made fun of myself.

A couple of weeks back, the Lumberjack and I sat down to plan our year. I said I wanted to do some tough things. I wanted to set some goals that have a small chance of being met; I didn't want to just pick things I KNEW I could do. I wanted to write down some things I probably wouldn't be able to do, but chasing them would make me grow.

When I said I wanted to be healthier, I tried to t…

SAYING NOTHING

Image
I sit across from her in a crowded restaurant, listening, watching.

There's a decision to be made today;
not an earth shattering, life-altering decision, but an important decision about stepping into a new position of leadership.

I listen to her recite pro's and con's, and while she lists them I imagine how every fact and detail is written carefully at home in a notebook on her kitchen counter. She gets to the end of her list and takes a sip of her water.

I say nothing. I say nothing for a really. long. time.

She finally clunks her water down on the table and looks at me with tears in her eyes. I know of the grief she is walking through right now. I know that right now it's hard for her to get out of bed; hard to feel anything, hope for anything, see anything but the last few months.

Cancer is a thief, and it stole her Momma. Her young, vibrant, active Momma. 60 days from diagnosis to goodbye.

60 days.

And now my friend is desperate to stumble into something, anything,…