For me, it started with a piece of paper.
A piece of paper + God.
We never know how God is going to weave our stories of connection, of friendship, of life. A happenstance meeting at a restaurant turns into a marriage, a potluck roommate assignment turns into a lifelong friendship. It is absolutely miraculous how we connect to each other in this great big world.
As I was driving home from an amazing weekend at the You Are Women's Conference, I reflected on how I even have the honor to be connected to this incredible group of women.
A piece of paper + God.
In 2004, I was part of a group of women who had been hungering for a different type of Bible study in the Bryan/College Station community. We began praying about starting an interdenominational Bible study. We met and prayed together for months before we started gathering to do a study together. We found a host church. We haphazardly assigned leadership roles to our little motley crue of women; I was tasked the role of the leader/teacher. I remember opening Microsoft Word on my Dell desktop computer, creating a flier announcing when and where we would meet for our first Bible Study. We made copies of said flier. We all grabbed a pile of said fliers and went around town, leaving stacks of papers here and there. (The year was 2004; it was a pre-social media world, when fliers, church bulletins, and community newspaper columns were some of the only options for free publicity.)
This mystery still remains to me one of the greatest ways I have experienced the beautiful ways God works in the smallest of details, but somehow a few women saw the paper. Picked one up. And actually SHOWED UP to our first little Bible study.
A piece of paper + God.
To this day, Bryan College Station CBS is a vibrant, God-honoring ministry in the community. My years of leading CBS connected me to women from different denominations and churches from all across the community.
A piece of paper + God.
Our family moved from the BCS community to Huntsville in 2013. I vividly remember seeing the announcement of the first You Are Women's Conference in 2014. Our exit from the community had been packaged in painful heartache; we were emotionally hemorrhaging from the loss of the community we loved so dearly. I remember having such confidence in all the women I knew who had launched the conference; I had met some of them through CBS as well as other local ministry connecting points. I knew without a doubt they were wholeheartedly sold out to Jesus and it would be an incredible gathering. Yet my heart was too raw to attend. I couldn't bear the thought of being in a crowd of women, seeing faces I recognized, feeling paralyzed at the thought of making small talk when my pain was still so raw, pouring salt in the wound of having to leave the town our family had loved dearly.
Because our God is a God of healing, I was finally ready to attend a conference with a dear friend a few years down the road, my heart more solid. Some of the ashes were beginning to turn to beauty, the mourning transforming to joy.
Then I had the absolute honor to be invited to speak at both the 2021 and 2022 conferences. Standing before a group of women in B/CS, teaching the word of God after such heartache, was surreal. It was not lost on me what a full circle gift of restoration this was from the kind heart of a loving Father, through the prayerful invitation of the You Are team. As I stood to teach, I experienced His sweet little head nod and gentle grin, directly to me, reminding me He was in the business of restoring the years the locust had eaten. (Joel 2: 24)
This year, 2024, (twenty years after those papers were passed out), I had a blast emceeing the 10th anniversary conference with my sweet friend Ashley. The weekend was absolutely glorious in every way possible. God continued to speak to some of my heartache, reminding me again and again how we have a God who finds us and sees us. Like Hagar said, “I have seen the God who sees me.” (Gen 16:13)
He sees you, too. You NEVER know how God will use one small random connection that links to another connecting point, years down the road. He uses it all.
A piece of paper + God.
Any part of your heartache + God.
Any unfinished work + God.
Whatever we have, God will work through it. Trust the God of the bigger, longer story.
His math always works for His glory and our joy.
Ecosystems of Care
Don’t believe your local FB gripe group, blathering endlessly about how awful people are. Tune out those horrible headlines, screeching on and on about how the world is going to hell in a hand basket.
Yes, there are vile people on this planet, terrible tragedies in our midst.
However, God made a world that can also be a beautiful, tender, caring ecosystem, where goodness and love pulse through networks of families and communities. A place where simple kindnesses and gentle gestures combine with loving acts and sacrificial gifts to create an interwoven system, delivering the very essence of life itself.
How do I know? We experienced it firsthand this week.
Chris and I teamed up the past 6 days to stand with two families as they were forced to face death. One family is a part of the inaugural community in our married life: what we call our “first church”, which involved 10 years in ministry and life meshed together. Those years in DFW included our first home, deep friendships, and where all three of the Hoover kids were born. Our pastor during that time suddenly on January 10th. Their family, including their 3 adult children and spouses, are so dear to us. They were compasses who pointed true north for us, setting the direction of our family. Her death leaves a huge hole in the lives of so many.
The other grieving family was our very own. Our beloved sister-in-law passed away only two days after our friend. My sister-in-law, Lori, lost a ruthless, cruel battle with ovarian cancer. She is the wife of Chris’ youngest brother. We loved Lori deeply. All of Lori’s precious family lives in a tight-knit farming community in rural Ohio.
One grieving family was shocked to the core by the sudden, untimely loss of their matriarch. The other family watched the cruel deterioration of a young life through an aggressive, ruthless cancer.
One family felt robbed of the opportunity to offer their utmost gratitude while she was alive, but were spared the terrible suffering of a terminal illness. The other family had the sacred space to speak their final goodbyes, but had to watch life being ripped away, one excruciating breath at a time.
There is no comparison in grief: both families are in deep pain, longing for one more glimpse or giggle, one more moment or meal. Or even just one more day. Now they (we) are walking away from the funerals to spend the days grieving the losses instead.
Because suffering and care go hand in hand, God built the grief process to exist in the context of community, in an ecosystem of care.
Hurting people being helped, sad people being seen.
This week Chris and I had front row seats to witness the Curry family and our own family being held and carried by ecosystems of care. We witnessed it and we contributed to it. Tiny acts, added up, creating an abundance of love in the same way small, isolated raindrops fill an empty stock pond.
You get to choose the kind of ecosystem surrounding you: one vibrantly pulsing with love and life or one of withering negativity and isolation.
When you begin to feel grumbly about the awfulness of people, serve someone. Lift those angry eyebrows and build your kindness muscles instead. Bake and deliver some cookies. Text a friend to check in. Mute that Facebook group and be kind to the fast food employee instead. If you have extra money, help someone pay for counseling. Buy a grieving family a Door Dash card. Invite a friend to lunch.
Big or small, human connection is how we heal. Let’s keep building ecosystems of care, okay?
Mine! Mine! Mine!
In my mind’s eye, I can see young mom me, with big hair and a big T-shirt, in our living room with a mob of the neighborhood kids, all happily playing. Until the screeching began.
Inevitably, one little voice would pierce through the chaos, “Mine! It’s mine! Give it back!”
Sharing is hard.
My last post seemed to resonate with two sets of people. Parents with adult kids and young parents looking ahead to the day they would be in the adult parenting stage.
But the struggle is deeper than a parenting issue; let’s widen the lens. We ALL struggle with sharing in one form or another. With taking turns. With someone else getting something we want. With watching things we wanted slip out of our hands.
I’ve been known to throw my share of adult temper tantrums when I don’t get what I want. You know what I mean, don’t you? Full on feet stomping, arms flailing, emotions being splattered all over the room. Toddlers are way less discriminating than adults about when and where they throw tantrums, to the horror of their parents. They can throw a wall-eyed fit right there in the checkout line, in front of scores of onlookers, at the exact moment you are desperately digging for the debit card.
My fits are mostly done with only God and Chris as witnesses. If you think you’re off the hook for being more mature than that, maybe your tantrums aren’t as obvious. Could be your tantrums are more internal than external.
Instead of stomping your feet, you manipulate a situation to get your way.
Instead of flailing your arms, you exert deeper control.
Instead of making a scene, you secretly rehearse critical, judgmental thoughts about the person getting what YOU wanted,
Instead of splattering emotions, you shut them down with wine or shopping or eating or scrolling.
I’ve done it all, don’t get me wrong. My ability to be immature in my late 50’s can be astonishing to me. We throw fits when we feel what we have is threatened, clutch to what we think is ours for fear of losing it. We desperately try to possess our images, our stuff, our people, our dreams, our own lives.
It’s a tricky thing. We are made to love, to be settled, to be content, to live in peace, to have what we need for survival, to be deeply attached to others in meaningful ways, to have friends. To be human is to be a people crafted with deep longings. Scripture tells us we are made in His image, which makes us deeper than we imagine ourselves to be. The problem is as old as time. We are made with longings and we become afraid of losing what we have. We are made with deep desires and we are afraid they will never be met. It can be painful. Dreadfully painful.
The drama is set: fear enters life from stage left and grasping enters from stage right.
Let’s normalize something, though. It is absolutely okay to have emotions of sadness when loose someone or something. Tears of sadness are gifts from God, showing us the depth of what it means to be in relationship. It is healthy and good to grieve what we have lost and mourn what we have never held. God is present with the tears of the young mom gathering her sons around her, without their dad, who tragically died weeks before. God is near to the friend I know who desperately wants to be married, yet continues to feel like the third wheel with all her friends. God sees the young parents waiting to hold a baby they can’t conceive. He grieves with the aging man aching with dread as his memory begins to fade.
Grief and sadness are different than the unnecessary suffering we allow in our lives when we live in the dark abyss of clutching, grasping, fearing.
A couple of months ago I penned a paragraph summarizing a pattern I noticed in my life around this theme of sharing. I had noticed an unusual uprising in my heart in the areas of competition and comparison. Something sinful had been incubating in dark spaces in my soul, yet it had remained unnamed. My vision for penning the paragraph was to capture the pesky emotions I was feeling before they sent me into a behavioral spiral that was driven by a sense of lacking. I needed to better understand this dark monster with which I was wrestling. It’s crucial for us to call it what it is, so we can do the important work of resisting its lies and whispers. Jesus looked right at the demon in Mark 5:9 and said, “What is your name?” I needed a name.
The name: scarcity.
In order to love well, to relate well, we absolutely must name this pattern. We must look right at it and cling to the love God in which there is NEVER scarcity. Here is how I named the pattern:
“The Dark Pattern of Scarcity: I’m constantly aware of things I don’t have “enough” of: time, money, energy, experiences, people. Making mistakes brings a deep sense of “not enough-ness”. I can overcompensate and then feel like I’m too much. I can be threatened by others’ success and flourishing, their seemingly “perfect lives” proof of my incompleteness. I resist asking for help because it reveals I don’t have what it takes. Other people having what I don’t have brings a sense of jealousy.
I compare what others have to what I don’t have. ”
Brene Brown says this about scarcity in her book Daring Greatly: Scarcity thrives in a culture where everyone is hyperaware of lack. Everything from safety and love to money and resources feels restricted or lacking. We spend inordinate amounts of time calculating how much we have, want, and don’t have, and how much everyone else has, needs, and wants. What makes this constant assessing and comparing so self-defeating is that we are often comparing our lives, our marriages, our families, and our communities to unattainable, media-driven visions of perfection, or we’re holding up our reality against our own fictional account of how great someone else has it.”
I love the phrase “hyper-aware of lack.” The lack we fear is a figment of our imagination. It is a whisper from a dark source.
Friends, we MUST face this dark monster. It will destroy our peace, our joy, our relationships. I told you in my last post I am vulnerable to the devilish tauntings, whispering to me there is a scarcity of love. Let me be honest with you in real life ways of what this has looked like for me. I hope you know these are absolutely NO FUN to type. I would rather hide these from a watching world. But darkness MUST be brought into the light. IT MUST BE. There is no other way.
Our granddaughter Nora would ask for Chris instead of me. I would feel slighted.
A friend would walk past me at church and not say hi. I would feel ignored.
A friend would have success in their career. I would feel stuck in mine.
Our kids would enjoy time with their in-laws. I would feel jealous.
Friend groups would gather. I would feel left out.
I want to erase each of those, afraid you will discover how petty I am. But I will leave them, to expose my humanity to you. And invite you to the bravest thing any of us can do.
Face it. Confess it. And turn to the lavish, deep love of God.
There is no other way.
Because those withering thoughts are not who I am really am. They are not who YOU really are. I have learned to trust the sturdier, deeper part of my soul that has been redeemed and set free from the bondage of scarcity. I speak those decaying words of scarcity and lack out loud, and then watch them be blown away by the warm breeze of the love of God, the same way storm clouds are chased away, leaving clear skies behind.
I’ll say it again. Sharing is hard. But there is NO scarcity. Let’s take away it’s power and move out of this hyper-awareness of lack, okay? There is enough love, enough time, enough of me, enough of my people, enough dreams, enough of life, to share. Let’s release our fearful fingers.
Let’s celebrate each other.
Let’s love deeper.
Let’s be gatherers, not competitors.
Let’s take risks together, not compare each other.
Let’s invite someone into our circle.
Let’s share the toys, instead of screaming, “Mine! Mine! Mine!”
So join me, will you? Let’s continue the revolution God showed us at the cross: the powerful act of surrender by opening up our palms, releasing our grip on life.
{I’ll lay out some practical strategies in my next post for facing those pesky, uncomfortable, and possibly destructive emotions.}
Releasing our fearful fingers
Sharing is a lesson for all ages, from toddler years to adulting. Think how often we hear an adult remind the littles, “Take turns with the toys! Take turns on the swing! Take turns on the scooter!”
The lesson is timeless: we all must learn to take turns. This Christmas Day, it was our turn to share the kids, who are being deeply and beautifully loved by other families. For that, we are incredibly grateful!
We are better relators when we practice the art of sharing those we love. The truth is, the people I love are not owned by me; they are God’s, first and foremost. Joyfully sharing them with other people, celebrating when they have new experiences and see other families’ way of doing things, is a part of growing to be a healthier lover of people. To do this, we have to guard ourselves from the dark demons of competition and comparison, lurking in the shadows, whispering lies to us about there being a scarcity of love. I am vulnerable to those devilish tauntings more than I care to admit. However, when I hear those murmurings, I stand firm to tell myself this phrase God gave me years ago, “Their gain is not my loss.”
There is NO scarcity. There is enough love, enough time, enough of me, enough of them, to share.
If the redemption story is anything, it is a story of being held deeply by a love that conquers all, including our desperation to cling to things and people with a death grip. Jesus came to show us what the love of God looks like lived out among us. This incarnational love is what we need to release our fearful fingers from clutching to our loved ones like they are our possessions.
Don’t get me wrong: I miss seeing our kids today! We are looking forward to gathering with them next weekend. In the meantime, you can find us here. There is nothing like an adventure in this beautiful world God gave us to settle me for some sacred slowing time.
I still have much work to do in this area of releasing and sharing. How about we all commit in this upcoming year to work on being better share-ers of what we love?
Oh, and Happy Camping Merry Shasta Christmas from us!
One of "those" days
This morning was just one of those mornings. You know what I mean; you’ve had ‘em.
If we needed to make a turn, we missed it.
If we needed to find it, we lost it.
If we needed to drink it, we spilled it.
If I even HAD a last nerve, Chris was on it.
Bad days are not bound by geography. We can have them in exotic and beautiful places as well as in the everydayness and comfort of our own living rooms.
I’ve learned to sorta let them be. I don’t ignore my emotions, but I also don’t over-identify with them. A bad morning is just that: a bad morning. We’re human. We are going to have some off days. Moods change and shift. We are not going to feel AWESOME all the time. We need to find a way to be gracious in those “we missed it” and the “I’m annoyed” moments.
For example, we missed the turn off to a hike I was very much looking forward to. I was extremely disappointed. We had to rethink our plan and decided we couldn’t backtrack to make it happen. Such a bummer. However, maturity has taught me not to beat myself up about it, or blow up at Chris about it. I can feel disappointed and that’s okay.
Chris and I are sharing every single molecule of space and time: he’s GOING to get on my nerves, and vice versa. This is not a flaw in our relationship. It’s to be expected. The maturity comes when I let the annoyance be simply “a wave to ride.” It’s not his identity nor his fault. No need for blame and rage. He can annoy me without me demonizing him as an annoying PERSON. My work is to stay in my integrity in the midst of it, meaning I am leaning into the love of God to keep me kind. And he can allow me to be annoyed without trying to remedy it for me. I am not a bad person for getting annoyed. It’s going to happen. True humility helps us give grace to others and to ourselves.
Take care of yourself when things turn grumpy. Take things slowly. You will do less damage to those you love when you give yourself permission to feel the grumps, yet stay in your integrity. Let the people in your life know you’re not feeling so chipper and be careful to not put the problem INSIDE of the person you love. (Ex: “Hey, Honey, ugghhhhh I’m feeling disappointed and annoyed, I’m going to be a bit quiet. I’m not mad at you.” versus, “Honey, you should have seen the sign. You never pay attention and you always miss the important turns. And YOU are an annoying, incessant snack monster and I can’t stand to hear you munch on one more chip!” (Well, let’s be real, maybe I have said those words a time or two. I’m a work in progress!)
Sometimes the best thing to do on one of those not-so-good-terrible-horrible-missed your hike-annoyed-with-someone-moments is to stop at a roadside coffee van and buy an overpriced cup of coffee.
It did the trick for me.
Glacier!
Just another ordinary day on the South Island. Not much happening here. Might want to scroll on by…
…Except we had front row helicopter seats, landed on Fox glacier, and then hiked on said glacier for 3 hours!!!!
We kept screaming out to the giant mountains surrounding us, “WE’RE HIKING ON A GLACIER! THIS IS UNREAL!!! WE’RE HIKING ON A GLACIER!!
The Middle of the Night
Turns out I’m actually NOT acclimated to New Zealand time after all, hence me sitting outside of the van by myself at 4:00 am, contemplating ALL the things.
Above me the sky was alive with light, the vast black behind the glitter providing the necessary contrast. The wispy clouds seemed to enjoy their part in this creative endeavor, dancing around, playfully shifting to change the scene every few minutes. The lake was doing her part to complete the pre-dawn canvas, gently offering herself as a mirror to the beauty towering above her.
It seems all this artistry was for me alone. I’m sure someone else was awake and enjoying it, however their view was uniquely different from my view. What a gift, the beauty we are allowed to experience.
The quiet helped my body catch up with my soul; words catching up with my feelings. There are some sadnesses my soul needs to hold space for, some regrets I’m seeking to understand, longings I’m wrestling to fulfill.
Wonder, awe, and beauty are supernatural tools God has provided for us in this battle to endure suffering, yet live with purpose here on earth. Our responsibility is to pick up those tools, wielding them against the dark forces. Those evil forces are tricksters, not showing up with horns and costumed red capes, but sneaking around in everyday loungewear. They taunt us to feel unfilled in our beautiful, ordinary lives, or confined to perfectionism, or smothered by the oppression of what others think of us.
I am not kidding, I woke up a couple of weeks ago and asked Chris, “What if I’m altogether the wrong kind of person?! What if I’m supposed to be a different, better person than I actually am?” He looked at me completely dumbfounded. Yet the question felt absolutely legitimate to me. I was caught up for a full day in a sad, dreary darkness, feeling I had somehow missed my calling. It appeared my task was to bow my head, accept my crown of wilted daisies and surrender in utter shame to my new title: The Lesser Christine: The Sad, Far Worse Version From What Christine Should Have Been.
Please tell me you have bad days like that too!? I mean, from what dark place do questions like that even originate?
We MUST harness our tools of beauty, wonder, and awe.
It’s a comfort to know God is grander than the beauty I’m experiencing here, yet intimate enough to know I was sitting by myself that early morning watching the scene play out. By myself but not ALONE. He knows where I sat, AND He was with me in it, as I wrestled with the sadnesses, regrets, and longings.
Be brave, my friends. Be brave to fight off that trickster who wants to tempt you to comparison instead of wonder, self-criticism instead of awe, “lesser than titles” instead of beauty.
In God’s Kingdom, His love provides us all with grander titles and more stunning crowns. Am I rejecting that shamed-based “lesser than” title? Yep. Am I tossing off that crown of wilted flowers? Absolutely
Will you join me in the rejecting and tossing?
The Adventure Begins
Sunset on a mountain lake at a campsite, virtually by ourselves? Fried potatoes and green beans and ham for dinner? Waking up to the glowing sunrise, beckoning us into another day of adventure? Let’s goooo!
A FULL day of hiking (24,000 steps) up to see glacier views perfectly reflected in the water, then through rainforests where surely the Elves lived? Hiking in freezing glacier waters through an old mining water tunnel from 1890, with glowworms tucked into the mountain walls? Trail after trail with water flowing and moving and pulsing through the landscape? You bet!
A day chatting and dreaming and giggling and staring up in awe at this picturesque landscape? My dream!
Another tucked away campsite, with tomato soup and grilled cheese for dinner? Game on!
Our first hot shower since leaving Texas? Ummmm, yes please!
On the Road
Road-trips and camping require flexibility. Thankfully, Chris and I are a dynamic duo, boasting the superpower of being adaptable.
It was rainy and cold yesterday and today, making us flex our flex muscles. While looking for campsites, we decided our best bet was a not-so pretty campsite, but one with a shelter area for us to cook dinner, keeping us out of the downpour. Our tummies were full, bed made, and we were cuddled up by 6:30, sleeping till 5:00 am! We consider ourselves to be fully acclimated to New Zealand time now!
We hiked several trails in the rain today. Why buy raincoats and waterpoof hiking boots if we’re not going to use them, right?! Since we were up so early, we were on our first trail by 7:00 am! As only New Zealand can do, there is no way a rainstorm can spoil the views of this gorgeous land. The rain simply made it glow all the more! We kept expecting Frodo, Aragon, or Legolas to peek their heads out of the forests on our hikes!
Stayed tuned for our next adventure: it should be a good one!
The KEA!!!
The kea is New Zealand’s feisty parrot. It is famous for being inquisitive, intelligent, bold. The kea is a very playful, curious, and brave bird. The world’s only alpine parrot, it is known as the 'Clown of the Alps' to South Islanders. They say this bird is actually incredibly smart, but can sometimes even be quite naughty.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is our home for the next 12 days. . .
. . . painted from bumper to bumper in keas.
I mean, what are the chance WE would get the keas? The van rented before us was painted with pigs all over it; the van after was a mural of purple dragons. Please join with me as I kick my head back to chuckle for a moment about this! Can we all agree our God cares deeply about the details of our lives AND has an uncanny sense of humor?
Our South Island adventure is in full swing and we have committed to do our very bestest to uphold the reputation of the kea. We’ve had a rainy start to our journey, making us bundle up early in this chariot of adventure and head to bed at 6:30 pm New Zealand time.
We are a couple of tired birds tonight!
We're off
We’re off.
New Zealand, here we come!
Have we always traveled like this. Nope. There were many years our income, life-stage, and schedules would not allow this type of travel. Will we always be able to travel like this? Nope. We know we are in a short season where we can squeeze out longer trips; we are fully aware it won’t always be like this.
But have I always LOVED exploring and peeking around the next bend? YEP! I have always made concerted efforts to be in nature and play as much as I could. For many years, that meant loading high chairs, baby food, and pack-n-plays to set up in a tent. Sometimes it was nothing more that a weekend to visit my parents in Arneckeville and enjoying some country sunsets. Other seasons, it was transforming a simple trip to see Chris’ family into a Colorado vacation. Geesh, sometimes it was nothing more than camping in the backyard. If there’s a will, there’s a way.
Join me as we ruthlessly pursue delight in a world set to recklessly pursue misery. How about we all unite together on Team Delight and set our course for the beautiful, unknown path of joy?
Now boarding Flight “Let’s Go”!
Keep your brain healthy
I was on a hike a couple of years ago, listening to a podcast with a neuroscientist. At the end of the interview, the host asked the guest a final question to summarize the interview. The question went something like this, “What is one thing our listeners can do to keep their brains healthy and active over their life span.”
I can picture exactly where I was standing on the trail, the moment deeply marked by the simplicity and beauty of his words. The answer sent a jolt of energy rocketing down my spine, creating an electric feeling of YES, YES, YES, pulsating throughout my entire body.
His answer:
“Be in healthy relationships. Stay in healthy relationships.”
YES! YES! YES!
That’s the work I have committed my life to. I sit with people all day long, not to simply work through depression and anxiety, etc. I sit with people, listening to their sacred stories as they work to navigate the hurts and healings that come in and through relationships. They’re working for healthy relationships.
But I don’t just do relational work as a career. It’s the work of my life, too. Heck, it’s the work of all of our lives! To BE in healthy relationships and STAY in healthy relationships!
….and….speaking of staying….
I’ve been friends with this crazy crew of Aggie girls for over 35 years. We don’t all get together as often as we’d like, but when we do, watch out world! We are like Olympian conversational masters, listening and asking, asking and listening, with lots of laughter dumped in for good measure. We could win gold medals for deep conversations, if there were such a thing! We had a whirlwind 24 hours together last weekend and my heart continues to linger in the gratefulness of it all. I am so thankful for my friendship with these amazing women.
So how about we all commit to keeping our brains healthy and keep working at this relational thing, together?
The walk back
One of the hardest things we can ever do it walk right back up to face what we fear. Head on.
I promise I will tell the full ocean storm story another time.
This picture depicts the moment I had to walk right back onto a boat I feared might have been the end for me.
When we have endured an overwhelming difficulty, or a tragic loss, or a frustrating setback, everything in our neurobiology screams at us, “DON’T DO IT!!! DON’T TAKE THE RISK! YOU WILL DIE IF YOU DO!”
You know the kind of moments I’m talking about…
Stepping into the church building after your crippling season of doubt and hurt.
Typing out a password on the dating app after a paltry desert hike through loneliness.
Sitting in the dentist chair after that terrifying drilling sound three years ago..
Opening your teenager’s door to apologize for overreacting.
The picture of me walking through the shallow water shows a moment in our recent wild camping trip to Costa Rica. We were on our way to a hike in one of the most bid-diverse ecosystems in the world, Corcovado National Park, when we encountered a relentless Pacific ocean storm. We were pummeled by waves and rain. After the harrowing nightmare, we arrived safely on the peninsula, completed our hike, but then we had to return to our original destination the same way we had come.
I had to get back on the boat.
Oh, I didn’t want to. My anxiety was high My fear was present. The dread was palpable.
Growth requires discomfort. It requires us to face our fear. The more fear dominates, the more territory it takes over. So the decision ultimately ends up being this: how much room will we allow fear to occupy. Fear is normal, it is natural. It has it’s place. However, in order to grow, we have to enter the dreaded territory of fear and say to it, “You are NOT as scary as you seem! You are not as REAL as you taunt me to believe.”
No matter what storm you are facing or what dread you are fearing, slow down and remind yourself you have what you need to face it. Facing it is absolutely the bravest thing you can do.
Hey there Soul Adventurer, walk back toward it. Pack up that fear and bring it with you. I’ve done it and I know you can do it as well.
Bravery refined
There are thousands of ways to be brave. Wild camping in Costa Rica is only one very tiny way. (And maybe not even one of the wiser ways.)
It’s brave to move, to job hunt, to parent. It’s brave to crawl out of bed when you’re depressed to take a 5 minute walk. It’s brave to care for aging parents or to grieve your infertility.
It’s hard, but right, to talk to your boss about a hard issue. It takes guts to download a dating app or to delete one. It’s brave to foster. To adopt. Or to support those who do. It’s brave to grieve the loss of the dream you cared about.
It’s brave to love a pet or make a friend. It’s brave to take a deep breath when that stupid anxiety shows up (again). It’s brave to call a friend to say you miss them or stay up late to talk to your teenager. It’s brave to forgive or learn something new.
It takes bravery to stay calm with a tantrum-ing toddler. It’s brave to plan a trip with a friend or to be kind when you are angry. It’s courageous to get mammograms or a colonoscopy. It’s brave to bury someone you love.
It’s challenging to retire and start a new way of life. It takes courage to open a Bible that can be hard to understand. It’s brave to find your voice and say “no more” to a toxic relationship. It’s bold to go back to school in your 40’s or 50’s (or heck, 60’s!).
It’s brave to watch your kid pick up a basketball or baseball, earn a karate belt or blow a trumpet. It’s courageous to belly laugh with friends. It’s brave to stop comparing yourself to others, deciding to fully live YOUR beautiful life.
It takes bravery to be a step-parent. It’s brave to trust God. It can be brave to doubt. It’s courageous to ask for help. It takes boldness to completely change careers. It’s brave to feel the lonely feeling while reminding yourself you are not alone. It’s courageous to love the marginalized. It’s brave to garden.
It’s brave to get married or to be single, to face being widowed or divorced. It all can be hard, in different ways.
It’s brave to drive to chemo. It’s brave to face your past. It’s brave to babysit a grandchild or to show up for a recovery program. It’s brave to fail, again. It’s also brave to start again.
It’s brave to be alive AND live the life you’ve been given, the one right in front of you.
You are braver than you know.
The Gift of Receiving
God built the natural world to both give and receive. The earth receives rain and then bears fruit from that which the rain provides. God made our individual worlds to operate the same way. The natural world puts no judgments on receiving. Neither should we.
We judge ourselves as being weak or needy when we are in seasons of receiving, as if the sum total of who we are is about pouring out. We live in a culture incessantly screaming at us to be productive and get things done, as if that is the highest priority. But the spiritual, emotional, relational, physical worlds do not operate on a GIVE ONLY paradigm.
We must create and hold space for time, processing, reflection, sustenance.
I have been in a long season of receiving. And it has been hard. I’m not writing today to get popular or to become the next greatest show on earth. I’m writing because I finally feel like my time of receiving has turned the corner into a time of giving. I’m understanding the richness of giving away, sharing my honest struggles, and taking risks. I know I’m not done receiving. But I have learned what a beautiful teacher she can be and I’m learning to embrace her rather than judge her.
Listen to what Peter Scaazzero says. “Work FOR God that is not nourished by a deep interior life WITH God will eventually be contaminated. We cannot give what we do not possess. Doing for God in a way that is proportionate to our being with God is the only pathway to a pure heart and seeing God {Matt. 5:8}.”
Our family arrived battered and bruised when our moving trucks pulled in to Huntsville 9 years ago. We were working through a devastating job change, a house move, new community, new church, new jobs, scattered kids - none of which were on our “plan.” I had never felt so lost. Our teenage sons were struggling; I was grieving the first stage of empty-nesting. My new fledging career felt more like a firecracker dud than the fireworks display I expected after graduating with my masters. I wanted my old life back. It felt like I could reach out and touch it, but when I did, it was a mirage that disappeared on the horizon. I felt betrayed, confused, alone, cynical, angry, afraid.
I was in no place to give. I realize now it was my season to receive. Oh, but I TRIED giving!! I tried to teach college girls like I had done for years at our former church. I stood in front of them so disconnected from myself. I tried several other “things”. I signed up to do stuff out of guilt. Don’t hear me say people were pushing me to do things or were guilting me to say yes. We have been embraced by wonderful people since our move. It was ME trying to push myself too quickly to DO. To work. To perform. To be Christine again: the funny one, the surrounded by friends one, the busy one, the parenting 3 little Hoover kids one, cooking meals for college kids one, Bible teacher one, getting coffee at Stabucks with a friend one. But I couldn’t find her.
I needed to grieve, recover, be angry, experience the full weight of my losses, tend to my soul. And crazy enough, my new career as a therapist gave me the opportunity to do my own soul work. My courageous clients entered their stories of hurt with tenacity. Walking with them into their sacred spaces invited me to enter into my own story of loss, away from my therapy office. I could NOT take them places I did not have the courage to enter for myself. It was life-giving and it was the beginning of my long journey back. I went to counseling. I hashed out my anger, betrayal, hurt. Sometimes I even “went fetal” on my living room couch and I curled up with my soft blanket as I wept. I had to feel my loss, enter into the death, so that resurrection could come. And it does. It will.
I know many of you are hurting deeply right now. Deep wounds like cancer, divorce, death, children who are far from you, life transitions, betrayal, singleness, anxiety, depression. There is no perfect timetable telling us when our seasons of giving and receiving start and stop. But what if this wound is inviting you to tend more deeply to your soul? Take times of silence, solitude, time to reflect on your life.
Do you need to quit performing and receive right now? Or maybe you need to be brave and start giving again. You can know that God is asking you to soak up His unconditional love and that is the most important adventure of all. ♥
The Evil Twins
Nine years after a deep hurt sure seems like a long time, doesn’t it? But it took me grieving the loss of many things in my life and in the rebuilding process, I have finally come up from the ashes with more freedom and with new courage. I had to learn to enter that dark hole of pain and betrayal so I could go with others into that cavern and hold space for them to explore their own hurt and loss. I see now that it HAD to happen this way. I could not have said that 9 years ago. But before my own loss experience, I’m sure I would have just quoted scripture at people, secretly judged them for being overly-sensitive, or simply told them I would pray for them. Gosh, that makes me flinch thinking about it.
I didn’t just “wake up” and feel better one day. It has been many wake ups and lots of processing. But I’m realizing something new this morning about the “why now?” question of feeling healthier, both spiritually and emotionally.
For most of my life, I have been secretly afraid of these evil twins: 1) the need to be liked or 2) being completely ignored. Those are some scary twins, right??!!
So how do those evil twins keep us paralyzed? On one hand, needing to be liked is terrifying because we are then imprisoned to KEEPING people liking us. (Now that, honestly, sounds exhausting.) On the other hand, being ignored or not seen would stir up that fear we have of being insignificant or unimportant. Do you see the enslavement of both sides?? The tragedy??
Either way, those siblings have silenced me by causing me to care too much about other people’s response to me. But now, instead of them silencing me, I am silencing THEM by walking in faithfulness and “reclaiming my birthright giftedness” as Palmer Parker calls it. I LOVE THAT IDEA of birthright giftedness. The truth of embracing who God made you to be and walking in it; knowing your true God-woven-self and liking who you are INSTEAD of despising who you are.
In your place of self-condemnation, disgust with yourself, or falsely imposed guilt of who you think others say you should be, how much of your unique gifting is held back from being offered to your little slice of this world?
Don’t get me wrong. I still care waaaay to much about what you think of me right now. But I’m a little bit closer to caring more about what my Heavenly Father thinks of me, which I know for sure is not based on my performance. And I care about relating in freedom to others. We are in bondage when we let false guilt, or “I don’t want them to think __________ about me”, or when we try to please everyone all the time. We lose ourselves and forfeit that beautiful birthright in which we have been entrusted.
How about you silence those twins today, too? ♥
Soul Companions and Perfect Jumps
This old snapshot of Chris and me has always cracked me up AND amazed me! I promise you this: the ONLY part of this photo that was planned was the jumping off the deck part. Seriously. The rest, the freakishly matched hands and perfectly mimicked angles: TOTAL ACCIDENT! I still look at it, 8 years later with giggles and awe! We couldn’t have been that in-sync if we had tried. It was an accident. A fun one for sure, but it was unintentional.
{Prepare yourself for a VERY cheesy transition line.}
Having soul companions is NOT an accident that we simply jump into and end up with perfect synchrony and connection. It takes time, work, and intentionality. It may be a cliche transition, but it is a truth that we can’t ignore!
We often “have people” but still feel alone and isolated. We watch our friends gather with other friends on social media, or we feel like everyone else has go-to people, or we simply feel left out sometimes. Our brain was not wired to process all the relational information social media provides us: who did what with who and who all went where with who. Our brain is still wired for the old-school way of relating: face to face, person to person. It is a part of our design; God wired us to be in REAL community with Him and others, not to scroll through what community looks like via a set of pictures and a cute caption and call THAT friendship. Nothing wrong with scrolling. We all do. Ha ha - I’m writing ON social media. It simply cannot replace sitting around a meal or grabbing coffee, or laughing with flesh and blood people.
But it does take time. It takes open-ended conversations, vulnerability, and intentionality. We cannot stand on the sidelines and expect to have meaningful relationships. They take YOU doing some inviting. YOU turning the conversation to more soul-level conversations. It seems we want to jump off the deck and end up with a picture-perfect relationship.
Soul Adventurer, if this strikes a cord in you, spend some alone time with God and begin by relating to Him. Tell him how you are feeling and what your soul longs for. Then, take one tiny step. Reach out to someone. Seek to know their world. Be present. Listen. Pursue. Don’t expect it to be perfect, but at least jump off the deck.
Nurturing the Younger Me
Grace upon grace. It is a phrase of encouragement I repeat to my clients all day long in my job as a therapist. But truth be told, as much as I proclaim it to them, I am preaching to my own battered soul. I offer grace to others, but I have trouble leaning down to gather for myself that grace-based provision of daily manna off the dusty desert ground.
Gathering up that manna represents a new spiritual practice for me: the practice of nurturing the younger version of me.
I'll be 53 this year. I’m relishing the wisdom and slowness the fifties are bringing. The empty-nesting stage has provided ample opportunity to reflect on my 28 years of marriage, the early parenting years, my friendships, my family relationships, and my relationship with God. But those reflections can cause me to flinch sometimes! As intentional as I was and as pure as my motives were at the time, I cringe at some of the “younger me” moments.
What was the younger me doing, causing me now to wince? I abandoned my carefree, playful nature in favor of being an uptight Perfect Christian Mother who raised Perfect Christian Child 1, 2 and 3. I was so concerned with hiding God’s word in their hearts that I stuffed it down their throats. (Yes, every time they washed their sweet little elementary school hands they had to stare at James 4:8 I taped to the mirror: “Come near to God and He will draw near to you. WASH YOUR HANDS YOU SINNERS AND PURIFY YOUR HEARTS, YOU DOUBLE-MINDED.” You’re wincing with me, right?) I was more judgmental and anxious because my black and white, binary thinking convinced me to believe there was only ONE right way to do things. I was more obedience-demanding than connection-building, concerned more with how the kids behaved than how they might need to feel safe from my seething frustrations. My faith became embarrassingly formulaic. (“God, I will make the kids do their chores and memorize weekly scripture verses and you will make darn sure they will never rebel. God, I will serve you faithfully and you make sure I never have to suffer.”)
When I envision that younger me, I want to fuss at her for being rigid. I want to roll my eyes at her for being judgy. I want to belittle her for her short sightedness in caring too deeply about what other people thought of her. But instead, I offer her grace. I nurture that younger me by accepting her and loving her.
Because she is me.
And God has spoken His unfailing and immeasurable love over me and nothing can separate me from that love. Not even the mistakes of the younger me.
How do I nurture the younger me? Grace upon grace. I see the young-bride-me who wanted things to go her way every time and I tell her that her selfishness has been crucified with Christ. I tell the younger me she was parenting those 3 kids under 3 with incredible courage, despite her exhaustion. I watch old videos and tell her I am proud of her zeal and commitment, even though that zeal looks a bit like legalism to me now.
Nurturing the younger version of me allows me to accept her, to love her, to forgive her, and to show her grace, because she was doing the very best she knew how to do at the time. Grace upon grace. It is the mantra that pulls ME out of a pit of shame, self-criticism, and judgment. When I make mistakes, when I look back and regret decisions, I whisper to myself the hope of the gospel of grace and mercy. Praise be to God we are constantly growing and changing (2 Cor. 3:18).
We all are making mistakes as we go. Let’s look back more gently, okay? To nurture the younger version of ourselves, we MUST pay attention to what our internal voice sounds like. Does it sound like a friend or a foe? God is our defender, not our accuser! When you look back on your past failures, your flesh will be tempted to look back with words like “I’ve never been __________ enough (skinny, pretty, smart, educated, loved, brave). I was so stupid. I’m a failure. I’m an idiot. I’m worthless. I’m so ashamed. I’m too much.” Those are painful words of judgment.
Our reflections on our past must be marked by grace and compassion instead. Remember, it is God’s kindness that leads us to repentance. (Rom. 2:4) Try changing the tone of your voice to a softer one, a more gentle one. Watch for accusatory words you are saying to yourself and change them to words of hope and forgiveness. And you can steal one of my very favorite tricks when shame is hunting you down: Imagine that younger version of you. While grinning, shrug both your shoulders, wink at her, and say out loud, “Well, she was doing the best she could at that moment and now, by the grace of God, she knows better so she can do better!”
As we learn better, we do better. Grace upon grace. ♥
The List
I used to get so frustrated with myself. I would get mad when I displayed another one of my “classic Christine” screw-ups: not responding in a timely way to someone who reached out to me, forgetting to write thank you notes, losing my temper over a trivial matter, lying to someone (to their face) because I didn’t have the courage to speak the truth, gossiping. I could go on and on. And the list could get darker and darker.
Several years back, I was especially annoyed with myself over these issues. I decided to prove to God that he was wasting his time on me because it was clear these flaws were not disappearing. I was supposed to be a “new creature”; I felt more like crappy creature than a transformed one. I sat myself down like an angry parent puts a toddler in a corner and wagged an accusatory finger at myself, demanding I make a list of all my perpetual sins and screws ups. It was a “look at what a very bad girl you are” exercise.
I wrote and wrote. The list was long. The more I wrote, the more miserable and angry I felt with myself. I had confessed all these before, but today this toxic list was overwhelming. I sat at the Starbucks table and I remember staring at that hopeless piece of paper. I knew God had it out for me and I was ready for Him to point HIS accusatory finger at me now.
I sat in silence for a bit. But instead of accusations, my heart felt invited to freedom. Not often have I felt something enter like this as truth into my depths. The paradoxical lightness of these words were whispered to my soul:
“I know about that list, Christine. I don’t care about that list the way you think I do. Have you not heard of my mercy?”
It was such a startling message, like a rainstorm on a hot summer’s evening. And as sure as I sit here today, His message of grace and mercy flooded me in that little corner of Starbucks. I had battered myself with frustration, impatience, and intolerance and I expected the same from God. I had choked down judgment and self-condemnation but my soul was truly thirsty for grace and mercy.
I sat, pondering this reality. I thought of how many times in scripture people cried out to God, “Have mercy on me!” So what did this truth mean to me and my list?
What changed that day was the realization that God was not surprised or devastated by my list. I could not out-sin His grace. But I thought it was my job to stay perpetually frustrated with myself as my way of showing God that I was taking sin seriously. But he showed me that he wanted me to take His GRACE seriously. And crazy enough, that revelation helped those perpetual sins on “the list” actually show up less and less. It didn’t happen overnight. Change is always slow. With many back steps and new starts and stops. I began to be more gentle with myself when I blew it. I began to tell my soul to display grace and mercy to ME, just like God does. My emotional world became less chaotic without the screams of self-criticism.(Who operates well when they are being yelled at all the time, anyway??) I learned to listen better to the gentle promptings from the Holy Spirit. And I learned to confess my sin quickly and LET IT GO. I quit calling myself flawed identity names like lazy, stupid, idiot, lame, bad mom/wife. I let God convict me of sin while I stayed in my true identity as God’s beloved.
So, I ask you, “Have you heard of His mercy?” No more long list making like that for me. Anyone else out there ready to give up their list as well? ♥
“Grace is infinitely bigger than we imagine. Scarcely have we lost our way when God brings us back.” Paul Tournier
Adventure into Self-Care
Exploring inside the the canyon walls of Zion National Park was like discovering endless displays of beautiful rock architecture. I love to explore wonders in nature but for years I ignored the exploration of my inner world. I would get angry when my kids showed any negative emotions, I felt guilty a lot, and I wore a shell of self-protection by avoiding vulnerability at all cost.
Recently I have come across the line from a poet named Rumi. I’ve been chewing on it for several weeks.
“If you are here unfaithfully with us, you’re causing terrible damage.”
One of the authors Parker Palmer who quoted this line, went on to say, “Self-care is never a selfish act; it is simply stewardship of the only gift I have, the gift I was put on earth to offer others. If we are unfaithful to our true self, we will extract a price from others. We will make promises we cannot keep, build houses from flimsy stuff, conjure dreams that devolve into nightmares, and other people will suffer.”
Self-care is a phrase that causes many to scoff. It gets labeled as selfishness or weakness, or something we will do “later.”
Let’s adventure in for a closer look. Any of these resonate?
thinking you must ALWAYS put someone else’s needs before your own, yet your service is peppered with resentment, seething anger, bitterness
letting false guilt drive you
believing that what others think of you is more important than acting in your values
exhausting yourself or silencing your own voice for fear you will disappoint someone
allowing yourself to be perpetually demeaned, belittled, or taken advantage of by someone and not setting limits to protect yourself ~believing you HAVE to say yes every time you are asked for something
~ignoring or stuffing your own body’s warning signs that you are over-worked, over-stressed, and exhausted
Of course, this is not an exhaustive list. Just a starting point. Jesus asks us to serve and love others sacrificially and we are supernaturally empowered to do so! But we must remember that Jesus did not command us to ONLY love our neighbor, but AS WE love ourselves. And what we love, we take care of. Paul said in I Corinthians 4:2 “It is required of stewards that they be found trustworthy.” But we often assume the only things we are to steward are our resources, gifts, talents, etc. Let’s be found to be trustworthy stewards of who we are, okay?
How about stewarding your soul today with lavish and abundant grace so you can love others out of your spiritual and emotional health and not your desperate exhaustion? Explore the beauty of who God made you to be and let the peace of Christ rule in your heart.
Soul Adventurer, that is an adventure worth taking.♥
