In the Weeds or Up in the Treetop

“Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law, happy is he.” -Proverbs 29:18
I studied leadership at Denver Seminary, and one thing most leadership gurus agree on is the importance of vision. This word “vision” can be intimidating because sometimes it feels like vision is about always being energetic and/or crystal clear on what you want and where you’re going. But I think vision is really about caring. It is about caring deeply. If you have a vision for your family, you care deeply for them and want your kids to want to come home when they’re 30. If you have a vision for your marriage, then you care deeply and want to grow old together even as you both change over the years. If you have a vision for your company, then you care deeply and want to retain, develop and engage your customers and staff.  Vision is really about caring deeply.
The scriptures say that where there is no vision the people perish. Perish is a strong word. Perish means die, expire, rot, decay, wither, evaporate, vanish, disappear. Where there is no vision, the people perish. I’ve been fascinated by survival stories. Why do some people survive and others perish in the same set of extreme circumstances? Researchers have found that those who die simply lose hope, they give up caring, and they perish.
Every day you and I wake up and have the choice to be up in the treetop or down in the weeds. The reality is that much of life is lived in the weeds – filling up the car with gas, driving to work, figuring out what to eat, changing dirty diapers, paying bills, running the dishwasher again. But if we are only ever in the weeds and never up in the treetop, we go through a process of perishing. We slowly begin to wither on the inside. We might begin to lose sight of how God uniquely formed us for abundant life, joy, and participation in the Kingdom of God on earth.
I wonder what you can do today to get up in the treetop of your life? Here’s one idea, but if this doesn’t work for you, find something today that does: In your car before you enter the office or your home, intentionally set aside 5 minutes to take some deep breaths, close your eyes, be silent, and listen to the voice of God who has nothing but love and care for you. I believe true vision (deep caring) is born of God and is a gift He gives us as we create space in our lives to listen to Him.
What can you do today to step out of the weeds and foster a little “up in the treetop” time in your life?

The Sacred Practice of Staying Put

Sometimes the most sacred thing you can do is stay put.
I grew up in a church that really emphasized the importance of going. They spoke often about the gospel as “Go ye into all the world and make disciples…” Every year an elaborate missions festival highlighted all of the people who had forsaken everything to follow Jesus by going to another part of the world to minister. I am grateful for the incredible people I know who have listened to this call to go. They are doing important kingdom work, Jesus’ own great commission work.  However, sometimes the emphasis on this particular spiritual path of “leaving everything” to follow Him has diminished the worth of staying.
Tim and I moved 8 times in the first 12 years of our marriage, but we have now lived in the same house for 3 years – a new record for us! I am starting to see the value of staying in one spot. One beautiful byproduct of staying is the opportunity to foster community. Kurt Vonnegut once said, “What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.” Like tending a garden, fostering stable communities takes time, energy, love, and creativity. The community to which God calls me may be in another part of the world, or it may be right within my family, neighborhood, or office. For this season of our lives, God has called Tim and me to grow roots right here, in this home, with our two children and with Platt Park Church. We are practicing taking relational risks, extending and receiving hospitality, healthily engaging conflict, and enjoying humor and intimacy.
Another rich blessing of staying has been, ironically, the opportunity to explore how Christ’s invitation to “go” is relevant for every follower of Christ. Whether we travel far or stay close to what is familiar, often the hardest things to leave behind are the instincts that live and wage war inside of us. Relocation will never resolve our resentment, anger, jealousy, lust, fear of failure, competition, and the need to prove our worthiness.  We hold these internal attachments in the secret places of our hearts. They reside in our wishes, hopes, dreams and fears more than in our physical address. Often these things go unnoticed and untended, but we need to leave them in order to fully follow Christ.
When Jesus tells us to “go,” he may have more than one possibility in mind! This Christmas, as we celebrate Jesus’ own leavetaking from his heavenly home to stay with us a while, let’s listen deeply for his particular invitation to us.

One Thing Most of Us Agree On

There is a lot of debate going on in our world today. Debate over who will make the next best president, debate over immigration, debate over gun control. But with all the debate, it seems that most of us agree on one thing at this time of year – and that is our desire for peace on earth.
What is the “peace on earth” that Christ came to bring?  Peace on earth is not the absence of conflict, and it’s not the perfect poise of a stress-free life. Rather, it is this: peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled. From this peace we become free to have the humility to say sorry, the confidence to accept when we blow it, the hope that is higher than our worst fears, and the trust that transcends the ups and downs of a world at war. This peace brings stability that is present in the midst of a storm, during the ups and downs of our relationships, and this peace can carry us thru the joys and grief’s of this life.
The heart of Christ’s birth and the peace on earth that Christmas brings is found in those old familiar words we sing, “peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled.”
See, we usually tend to think that world peace is the result of certain problems being solved, and so we say:
  1. the problem is just ignorance, we need better information
  2. the problem is just indifference, we need more compassion
  3. the problem is just apathy, we need more motivation
But the scriptures teach that our primary problem is estrangement from God. Like a couple that was once in love and is now estranged, the scriptures say I am estranged from God and so I need reconciliation. Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled. The story of God is that He created the world as a perfect Garden, and because we turned our own way it became a wild jungle. Our planet and all people on it were created for good, but we and our world have been deeply damaged by evil. In Christ we are restored for better – but not just so that we can be better – but also so that we can be sent together to heal a broken and hurting world.
God offers us the gift of peace – not just so we can be at peace – but so that we can go be peacemakers in the world. How will you be a peacemaker this year?

On the Edge of Forevermore…

The other day I met with a couple whose marriage is totally on the edge. In their case, the passion is gone, and they’ve both grown distant. They believe it’s unlikely that their relationship will survive. I care about this couple deeply and have known them for a long time. My heart breaks over their situation.
My heart breaks partly because I believe in redemption, and I have witnessed its surprising grace in marriage. That grace comes in many different ways, sometimes through fighting and staying and rediscovering intimacy, and other times through trying every resource and ultimately leaving (possibly for reasons of personal safety – physical, emotional, mental, &/or spiritual).
But I worry about the prevalence of people who seem to shortcut the potential for redemption in marriage. Many are turning away from each other because they no longer experience pleasure, delight, or intimacy together anymore. Certainly, these are painful developments, and they demand attention and care in marriage, but I grieve over the flippancy with which our culture offers marital breakup as a good solution. I asked my friends who are contemplating divorce a question that I have asked a hundred times before, “Have you been to counseling?” and their response, like a hundred others I’ve heard before was, “We looked into that, but it’s too expensive, and we are so busy.”
In that moment, I wanted to say to them, “Seriously? Too expensive? Too time consuming? I don’t mean to lose my cool here, but think this through. You are considering divorce… Do you know how expensive that is?  Do you realize how time consuming that will be?! Please, please, please do not enter that path lightly. I know that sometimes divorce is the only option left, and there are solid reasons for people to split up. But I implore you to try every other good resource first. Give redemption a fighting chance!”
There is no price too high to pay and no investment of time too great to try and save a marriage before calling it quits.
During our 3rd year of marriage, Tim and I hit an extremely rough patch. It was scary for both of us to experience the intensity of emotions, to see such an ugly side of ourselves and each other. I remember in the midst of that painful season, I called a friend and told her we were really struggling. We talked, she listened and held space, and then offered me one of the most generous gifts in that season. She simply said that she had an amazing counselor who was difficult to get in to see, but she would be willing to give up her upcoming session with him and give it to us if we would be willing to drive the 3 hours to see him. Without skipping a beat, we said yes. We did. We drove 3 hours, both ways, multiple times, and paid money on top of that to see this man. I am so grateful we did, and I can undoubtedly say it was worth every penny and all the time it took.
So, I hope you will forgive me when I get weary of hearing, “It’s too expensive,” or “We just don’t have time.” If this is your situation today, hear my urgency, which comes from love: Make time. Find the money. Because there is no price too high and no time investment too great to do all you can to save your marriage. God is the great Redeemer, but we often get to participate in that process through the choices we make, which can have a forevermore impact.
If you don’t know who to see, email me. If you truly cannot find a way to pay, email me. Just do not let time and money be the reasons you walk away from giving your marriage every chance to succeed.
*If you have experienced a divorce you regret, know that God’s pleasure & delight in you has not changed and He still has unlimited capacity for redemption. Our mistakes never cancel out God’s mercy and the potential for God to still work beauty, goodness, and healing in and through our lives.

Batten Down the Hatches

Last summer Tim and I picked up an old sailboat from Craigslist. The sailboat’s name is inscribed on its side: SoulMate. Now, we don’t exactly know how to sail (which our friends love to tease us about), but we sure love trying and even just hanging out in the slip and motoring around Lake Dillon. Frisco Marina has become one of my favorite places to go be quiet and contemplative.
Today, I woke up insanely early and drove to Frisco to watch the sunrise from SoulMate. When I first arrived, it was 48 degrees. I had my hoodie up and I was bundled in blankets as I read, journaled, and prayed. But then it started to warm up, as it usually does, and pretty soon I shed the hoodie and looked for ways to hide from the intensity of the Colorado sun. And then, without warning, clouds rolled in, and a thunderstorm began. I scrambled to “batten down the hatches” before my laptop got too wet. Now I sit inside SoulMate, waiting out the storm, watching the billowing clouds, listening to the patter-pat-pat of rain, feeling the movement of the boat as the waves crash against its sides, and smelling that combination of lake+storm… I am happily and safely soaking it all in.
In life, weather can change so fast. Sometimes you’re doing great, full of joy and thankfulness, and then out of nowhere a wave of loneliness, grief or deep soul fatigue can overtake you. Other times, despair presses against us so heavily that it seems we are forever trapped, and a shaft of human kindness or natural beauty shocks us with hope. In every shifting season, God offers us himself as our SoulMate. Sometimes we have to intentionally batten down the hatches of our lives and hide with Christ in God. This can mean refusing to be too busy for daily stillness. It can mean steeping ourselves in Scripture or music or outdoor beauty or camping… or whatever nourishes us and reminds us of God’s deep and personal love for us. To live in the love of Christ is to live moment by moment, in season and out of season, in the knowledge of our belovedness in Him. God is our best SoulMate, the maker and lover and ever-present refuge for our souls.

Lessons in Belonging

Our need for belonging is imprinted on our souls from the first moment we take a breath. Have you ever considered the source of this longing for belonging? Belonging begins with God. Before humans ever existed, God existed in perfect, loving relationship between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The three persons of the Trinity belonged to each other long before the creation of our world. One day, this perfect circle of eternal love decided to widen the circle and create humanity. These created people would not be divine, but would be made in the image of God and would be designed to live and move and have their being IN GOD. By sharing in the love between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, people could also extend belonging to each other.
God did not create us because he was bored. He did not create humans simply to do the chores he didn’t want to do. Rather, God wanted to share his perfect, beautiful, and eternal experience of belonging.
Newborn babies need human touch to survive. It is part of our internal wiring-part of the image of God imprinted on us. When we feel ourselves to be separated from others and/or from God, we suffer deeply. Sometime, we even withdraw further from love which could actually heal us.
During August, we are doing a series called “Lessons in Belonging.” Over the next several weeks we are going to tease this out, and I really hope you’ll come. If you are anything like me, you might find that your desire to belong is matched by some commitment-phobe tendencies. So we are going to look at what to do with disillusionment and how do we practice vulnerability. I hope you’ll join us for this journey in belonging.
Belonging-Main-Graphic-Slide

Consuming Fire

Recently, after some time in silence and prayer with my spiritual director, an image of God’s spirit as holy fire pervaded my mind. I desire the fire of God’s spirit to purify my life. Fire understandably sounds scary to us; we don’t want to be burned. But as I reflected on this image of God, I was drawn to the fire and inspired by all the good in it.

God’s spirit is like a fire that consumes everything that is not love in my life: my ego, my agendas, my competitiveness, my fear, all the ways I hoard because I think of resources as scarce. In the presence of God’s Holy Spirit, all of that is burned away. What remains is this simple truth: God is love, and I am in God, so I am loved. This is the gold that is purified when all else burns away. When I quiet myself to sit and receive His love like a child, I become aware of all the other things I was seeking and propping up for His and others’ approval. In the stillness, all that other stuff gets stripped away, and the truest things about God and about me emerge. These pure truths are all I ever want and all I ever need.

When I leave spiritual direction, I leave the silence. Almost immediately, as I drive down Santa Fe Boulevard, a host of little ambitions, distractions and agendas re-emerge in my mind and heart. Silence leads me into the presence of Holy God, Consuming Fire, and I need that daily practice so that my life may be constantly distilled and purified.

Dear Russell

Dear Russell,

I am a blubbering mess. I just cannot seem to stop crying. Every time I think about leaving for this trip to China to pick up your sister Lyla, I find myself in a pile of tears. It’s not the fact that I won’t see you for two weeks, though that will be hard. The reason for my tears is because I know when I say goodbye to you and board that plane, I am saying goodbye to an era with you – a very special season of life when you have been my one and only baby, and we have been a family of just three. That season is coming to a close, and it is so sad to say goodbye.
This past season of life with you has been so special to me. I remember when we found out that you were the size of a sesame seed inside of me. I remember the day we brought you home from the hospital, the moment you took your first step, and the first time you said, “I love you too, Mommy.” All of these memories and countless more I hold in my heart as priceless gifts. I love being your mom.
Maybe I am grieving the changes that will come as you continue to grow up. This whole grieving of you growing up is no joke, evidenced by my constant crying – whew!  In moments like this, life’s pains seem to teach my heart new depths. Right now before God, I am remembering that you’re not mine. Oh, I talk about you like you’re “my” child, but ultimately you’re not – you belong to God – and you are a gift to me. You have been entrusted to my care – and it is one of the greatest honors, privileges and joys of my entire life – but ultimately you lie in the hand of a great God who loves to give good gifts. You are a gift to me, a very, very good gift, and I honor the wonderfulness of you by sharing you with God.

Jesus keeps inviting me to let go and die a little. Leaving this season with you, relinquishing this era, feels like a little death. I want to freeze time and never let this go, never let you go, never have to hear you say, “Hold me, Mommy,” for the last time, never have to wave goodbye as one of us leaves the other. But Jesus keeps beckoning me to let go, to relinquish control and remember that you are in His ultimate care. He keeps reminding me that even you, dearest Russell, cannot, must not take the place of God in my life. It is only in holding all my wonderful gifts from God lightly, acknowledging that they never really were mine to clutch, that I can experience the freedom, joy, and life found in God-Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I so much want you to know that God truly is the best gift that life holds, even better than my love for you, or Daddy’s and my love for each other, or any other beautiful gift you or I can imagine.

I love you Russell, more than I ever realized I could. You are a gift from God to me, and I’m so grateful! When we sing, “He’s got the whole world in his hands,” that includes you, me, Daddy, Lyla and this sweet season we have shared.

I love you, honey,

Mommy

Dear Lyla

[Hi friends! I’ve been super sentimental lately, getting ready for our trip to China to adopt Lyla. I’ve been writing letters to Lyla and Russell and I thought I would share this letter below with all of you – just out of gratitude for how our church family has been such an integral part of our families life and journey. I see and understand the human adoption process to be a beautiful, if imperfect, analogy of the spiritual adoption God offers through Christ, and my hope and prayer is that our sharing some of this journey might somehow encourage you along yours.]

Dear Lyla,

I cannot wait to meet you! In just one week, you’ll be in my arms. This will be one of the happiest days of my life and one of the saddest, most confusing days of yours. I daydream all the time about what meeting you will be like. I wonder if you’ll be scared, happy, or aloof. I wonder if you’ll smile or cry or run away or let me hold you close. Whatever you do is okay. You just be you. Once we are with you, we aren’t going anywhere. We are here to stay. We are adopting you. This means that you will be a Grade, and we will be a family. You will have a mommy and daddy, a brother named Russell and a big fluffy dog named George. When you are sad, there will be people to hold you and comfort you and share your tears. When you are happy, there will be people to laugh with you and bear witness to your joys. When you are afraid, you don’t have to be alone with your fears. Adoption means you’re no longer alone. You have a family with whom you can belong.

I hope with all my heart that your belonging to us and our belonging to you will some day introduce you to an even greater adoption into the family of God. As you grow, I hope you’ll come to experience the eternal family of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Spiritual adoption offers us all a belonging that’s infinitely deeper, richer, and kinder than our family will ever be. Being adopted into the family of God means living in the promise that Jesus will never leave you or forsake you. It means that there are brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins and parents for you in every church community you choose to belong to throughout your life. There will be times when I am not the mother you need and in those moments God may “mother you” through a Sunday school teacher, or youth leader, or small group leader or pastor or friend. There will be times when you need a sister to share life with, and God will provide you with a sister-in-Christ to be by your side. Some of my deep hopes and prayers for you are: 1) that you will know the marvelous experience of dancing in God’s Trinitarian love, and 2) that you will find your stride and identity as God’s adopted child, and 3) that you will experience the awe and wonder of belonging to a church family. There is nothing like a church family when a church family is working right. No family is perfect, but there are lessons in belonging and depths of communion that I’ve only known in the presence of God and his people.

I cannot imagine my love for you being any more than it is already. I see pictures of you, and my arms ache to hold you. I watch videos of you, and my heart leaps for joy. I have studied your little face and your curly hair and every bit of information we have received about you, so that it is burned into my mind and heart. You are loved so deeply already, and we haven’t even met yet!

I am so honored, humbled, and excited about being your mom. I love you so much, and I’m counting down the days until we meet.

We are headed to China!

This week we received our long-awaited travel approvals to go to China and pick up our soon-to-be adopted daughter Lyla. Needless to say, we are over the moon with excitement to meet her, hold her, and begin our life together as a family of four!

We will depart on Thursday evening, May 14th, and we will be in China for 2 weeks. Our three-year-old son Russell will stay home with our dearest home-team family: Nana, Grandma, Grandpa and Gabby.

When we return to Denver, I will take maternity leave to focus on bonding and attaching with Lyla. I plan to be “off” from church responsibilities until July 15th, and then I will return to the daily life of work and ministry. Tim will be available after our return from China. And our incredible and competent staff, along with our elders will be in place for community care and emergencies while we are away.

I’m hoping to be eyeball-to-eyeball with my little people a whole lot this summer, intentionally making my world very small by staying at home, being Mom, getting to know my little ones and figuring out our new normal.

I look forward to this special season ahead! I find myself daydreaming about it all the time. What will our first meeting with Lyla be like? What will she feel like? How will Tim and I feel? How will Lyla react and adjust and be? How is Russell going to do while we are gone? How is he going to feel when we return with Lyla? How will parenting be different with two? What will life be like this summer? Please hold all of us in your prayers about these things!

I will update you all as I can with notes and Facebook posts. Please know that my love for you all –the community of Platt Park Church– runs deep, and I will be keeping you all in my heart before God while we are away. I am grateful for the amazing team we have at Platt Park Church right now, who make it possible for me to be on maternity leave with absolute confidence in the leaders who will hold down the fort while I am away.