"hungryangrylonelytired." a word on contentment.

Every week I look forward to "Writing Day Friday". I think because it feels like an opportunity to make something beautiful, and after an especially strenuous week I find myself extra hungry for beauty. This week I am coming off of a Fashion Week outreach which, as always, is a glorious combination of total excitement and complete exhaustion. In Alcoholics Anonymous they have this thing called "H.A.L.T." which stands for "Hungry. Angry. Lonely. Tired." AA warns that if you find yourself feeling any of those things then you need to halt and use caution, because you will be more likely to be tempted towards bad decisions... which for the alcoholic is obviously drinking.

Shaun and I use "HALT" too. Whenever I am in the type of mood where my mind and emotions feel mushy like oatmeal and all I want to do is dissolve into the floor and stay there until next year, Shaun usually asks me if I'm feeling "Hungryangrylonelytired". Because for us it has become a one word thing. Sometimes we say it jokingly, sometimes for real, and this week has been a "Hungyangrylonelytired" week... for real.

I have this thing where every night I lay in bed and daydream about escaping. I don't know if that is right or wrong but I appreciate the comfort it brings me as I drift into sleep. I picture myself living in a home instead of a church. I picture shiny white walls and vases of lush pink flowers.  There are pretty paintings and a big chandelier and happy photos on the walls. I imagine a fun family and fun guests coming for dinner and I imagine that after dinner we all go for a walk. Some nights we walk to the beach, other nights we walk to an ice cream shop. I imagine having a tidy home in a beautiful location that smells good and feels good and looks good in photos.

Unfortunately waking up from sleep is slightly less comforting. When my eyes open I still live in a room at a church. My walls aren't white and my vases are empty most of the time because we travel too often for flowers to fully be enjoyed. The family in my home is made up of me and Shaun and anyone else who happens to be residing on the church floor at the time. Our meals are typically eaten on the go or at the Youth With a Mission campus and we don't go for walks after dinner because my skater husband would rather roll than walk, and because if I'm honest I'm usually lacking the motivation to face the traffic near our church. I think it's safe to walk where we live, but I prefer to do it when there aren't speeding LA drivers racing to get home from work. My room is rarely tidy and if we were birds then our room would be less like a nest and more like a branch that we stand on in the evenings to relieve us from the wing-flapping of everyday life.

Most days I really do like our home in the church and I really do like our life. I normally genuinely enjoy being the gypsy couple who travels often and has the gift of way too many friends. I also feel sincerely proud to have mastered the art of packing light because I remember how grueling that process used to be for me and it's not grueling anymore. But about once a month (hormones anyone?) I forget what I love about my life and all I can see are its apparent flaws. I want to see my wonderfully-hilarious-and-so-gorgeous husband but all I can smell are his yucky skate shoes. I want to see the adorable creativity in our almost entirely thrifted home decor, but all I can see is how cute my friend's houses are and how much I long for a space of our own. I want to see how cool is it that we have experienced so much of the world, but all I can feel is the chaos of not knowing whether I'll be spending next week in LA or somewhere else... or what country we will be in next year.

If you are rolling your eyes at me I understand. Why would I complain when I have so much to be grateful for? But it's always like that, isn't it? Other people are always longing for the things we take for granted.

The thing is that I know too much about God to wallow in my discontentment for too long. I know too much about His mountain moving power and about His "I-called-you-by-name" personal love and about the way He left Heaven to meet us in the depths of our brokenness to offer us a way out. Even though I am somebody who is quick to talk about God... which may also have something to do with the fact that I am somebody who is quick to talk in general... when I am going through my "hungryangrylonelytired" weeks I find myself doing less talking and more listening. My mouth glues shut, my ears perk up and my weary eyes look to Heaven pleading silently for some resolve.

"Remind me of Truth Lord. Remind me of Joy. Remind me You are near. Remind me that the God who saved me from the weight of my sin, can also save me from the weight of this week's burdens. Remind me what I love about this life. Remind me what I love about you. Remind of me everything beautiful around me. "

I don't speak the words, but my heart aches them, and I know He hears.

Faith that is detached from everyday life has never been interesting to me. Having a relationship with a powerless God who only cares about my church attendance and whether or not I stay married is not interesting either. I have already let myself down enough in this life and I would prefer not to acknowledge that I'm letting the Maker of the universe down too. But "hungryangrylonelytired" weeks remind me that the God I follow is better and nearer and more interesting and powerful than I even have the capacity to understand. The posture of my heart this week has been a bent over one. Like I'm a little child trying to carry something heavy and I'm falling down under the weight of it. But just as a mother rushes to the aid of her little one in pain, Jesus, the God called "Emmanuel" meaning "God with us", desires to be our ever present help in time of need. (Psalm 46:1)

All I really probably needed this week was a nap, or a day to rest and regroup, but it's comforting to realize that even before that happens, I serve a God who can handle my funk. He understands me. The Bible says He even knows the number of hairs on my head. He knows my dreams and my desires and though they may not all come true exactly as I imagine, I can be certain that His plans for me are good and my future with Him is full of hope.

My life is not my own. I was handcrafted by a Maker who calls me to contentment. He calls me to it regardless of my circumstances because He has made a way for it in Himself. Last night I asked my younger sister if she had advice for a "hypothetical person" struggling with "hypothetical discontentment" and without hesitation she gave me great advice broken down into 4 steps. Better even was that she spoke them compassionately, as a fellow struggler, which is my favorite type of advice-giver.

She said that her first step and last step are the same, be Grateful. She said it is most important to be thankful because usually being discontent is tangled up in being ungrateful, and God says in the Psalms that "we enter His gates with thanksgiving," which means gratitude is a sure way to enter the presence of God.

Next she said we need to assess why we are feeling discontent. Are we "Hungryangrylonelytired"? Are we being lazy? Are we heartbroken and need someone to talk to about it? Are we doing something that we know is disappointing the heart of God (aka sin) that we need to turn from (aka repent of)? Meredith said it helps to reflect on how we are feeling because processing it helps us to see the real need and be able to meet that need specifically.

Thirdly she said we need to do everything we can practically do to make the situation better. She suggested things like talking to a friend, stopping the cycle of envy we may have developed when we look at other peoples' lives, getting offline for a week... or longer, going for a jog, changing up our diet, getting plugged into a church, and disconnecting from the people or places that are making the discontentment worse.

Finally she ended where she started. "I think we need to be grateful again," she said matter-of-factly after going through steps 1-3. "Gratitude is the opposite of discontentment. Gratitude invites contentment."

What a smart little sister. So now I am taking my smart little sister's advice and turning this "Hungryangrylonelytired week" into a week of "Everything is okay." I still dream of living in a home one day, but for now our sweet little room at the church is perfect and cute and I love it. I still dream of lots of other things too, but today I choose to focus on making what I already have better and more beautiful. Envy won't get the best of me. Neither will stress. I'll probably still take a nap, and I'll probably use tomorrow to rest and recover, but I hope more than anything that I will choose contentment over escape. Being right here is good, even if right here is not exactly how I wanted it, because everything I need is here and His grace is sufficient for me.

May we have eyes to see the beauty that is all around us.

"Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." Philippians 4:12

trusting beyond chapter 2.

Ever since I learned to read I have loved to do it. I was the first one in my first grade class to read an entire chapter book and get my name on the wall. Remember that girl? Yep, it was me. Before I tried out for the volleyball team in 7th grade I went to the Colorado Springs library and checked out a book on volleyball. That's where I learned that the term, "shag your balls" wasn't actually sexual and didn't have anything to do with Austin Powers. When I was going to audition for Kathryn Grant's Dance Company at 15 years old, I went back to the same library and got a book about dance. Since it helped so much with my middle school and high school volleyball career, I was certain it would help with dance too. I ended up making the dance company before I finished reading chapter one, which was convenient because it started going into the history of ballet and I'm sorry to the historians and ballerinas... but it was completely boring. When I was 19 and wanted to learn about Jesus, I read books about Him. When I wanted to learn about marriage and leadership, more books. Today my preferred reading materials have expanded to include both books and blogs and I read more now than ever. I read for fun and I read for the sake of learning new things. I love it.

I am a particular kind of reader. I'm what you call a "read-the-last-chapter-of-the-book-if-it-gets-too-intense-to-make-sure-I-can-handle-this-part-of-the-book" type of girl. Did you get that? It goes like this, if I am on chapter 2 and the story is getting all twisty and my emotions are getting all twisty with it, I skip ahead to the end and read the last chapter, then if I like what I find back there, I return to twisty chapter 2, but if I don't like it, I set the book down and go look for another. Horrible right? A little bit. But it's my favorite way to do it. I think its because I am a deep feeler so the words on the page quickly become my reality, and if I am going to give myself over to experiencing something really intense, I need to know it will be worth it in the end.

There is something interesting I observed about myself recently though. I've found that its easier to not jump ahead to the end of the book if I trust the author. Take Shauna Niequist for instance. I think she is so great. Everything I have read of hers has blessed me like crazy. So now I am at a point where I am not even tempted to rush to the end of her stories because I am confident that she will not leave me hanging as a reader. If she introduces me to sadness or those twisty feeling I told you about, I know very soon she will also lead me to a place of hope, because that's what she always does and I like it very much.

Anyway I've noticed that my reading style is not so different from my lifestyle. I am extra good at enduring tough stuff when I can see the ending and understand why it will be worth it, but I'm prone to giving up if I can't see a promise of hope in what I'm going through. When I face something hard, all I want is to read the last chapter and know if the struggle I'm experiencing will lead to something redemptive and beautiful. The problem with life though is that most of the time the end of the story feels beyond reach, and when that happens I end up wanting to just close the book and start another, different, better story altogether.

I know that our favorite stories always involve struggle. The struggle makes the celebration at the end all the more exciting. We find ourselves rejoicing tearfully as the couple finally gets to be together, or the underdog finally wins the game, or the bad guy finally gets the justice he deserves. We endure those twisty feelings of chapter 2 when we believe that the ending will be a good one.

As I find myself walking through my own struggles without access to the last chapter of my story, I begin to consider my Author. Do I trust Him?  Enough to endure this? Because if I don't trust Him then my only alternative is to attempt to take his job, I move from being a character in the story to acting as the author of it. "My life, my story." Right? This mentality works for a little while until life inevitably reminds me that control is an illusion and at the end of the day I don't have the power to decide if my health will remain or my loved ones will live or even if the economy will be on my side. And if an "author" can't even control the variables in her own story, then she is not a very good author anyway. Which brings me back to determining whether or not I believe that the Author of my story is trustworthy.

The way I learned to trust Shauna Niequist was by reading her work. So naturally if I am going to decide if I trust my own Author, I am going to need to get familiar with His work.

His work. Genesis. The woman who endured decades of infertility finally had a baby. She was over 90 years old. The brother who was wrongly sold into slavery and unfairly spent years in prison, was eventually set free and made the leader of a nation. Exodus. Slaves miraculously set free from slavery. Their enemies defeated. Psalms. The pure-hearted man who is being attacked by a crazy, jealous, insecure leader finds peace, protection and promise. Isaiah. The people who disobey their Maker over and over and over again, are offered forgiveness and a new beginning. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. New beginnings. Always, always new beginnings. The dead girl miraculously restored to life. The slutty girl, given respect and dignity. The sick woman healed. The hopeless woman prone to hiding is given purpose and brings life to her community. Acts. Sick people healed. Dead people raised. Ephesians. Identity. Broken people restored. Poor people experience the riches of a meaningful life. Rich people experience the joy of generosity. Revelation. Every tear wiped away. No more sickness. No more heartache. New beginnings. Again.

All of that and I didn't even mention the part about sending His Son as Savior of the world.

His work invites me to trust. When I am tempted to close the book and start again, or when I wonder whether there is even really an Author at all, I remember His work and I choose trust. I choose to trust that nothing is wasted. I choose to trust that new beginnings are everywhere. I trust redemption is coming. I trust that struggle and heartache are opportunities for glory. My Author writes meaning into the mundane and purpose into the chaos and I trust Him. My Author writes peace into storms and life into barren places and I trust Him.

When I am tempted to give up and start again I remind my soul, or perhaps the Author reminds my soul, "Stay with it Jess. The page will turn. The twisty feelings in chapter 2 will be worth it. Trust."

Our Author promises hope. Always hope.

So we keep on keepin' on and believe together for an ending that will make the middle worthwhile.

In the words of everybody's favorite fish,
"Just keep swimming."

"Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:1-2

(Photos by Sarah Grunder Photography.) 

poison & the f word.

Last week I Face-timed with one of my very best friends who is living across the ocean in a culture that is very different from my own. In updating me about her life and marriage and the various challenges she is facing in adapting to this new place, she said something adorable. I thought it was extra cute because English is not her first language and so she was trying to explain something very common but with her limited English vocabulary it came out like this, "Jess, I feel like there is poison in my heart. It came in there because people have let me down. They keep making promises to do things and then not following through on them. I know I need to get rid of the poison, but it is so painful."

poi·son

ˈpoiz(ə)n/

noun

1.

a substance that is capable of causing the illness or death of a living organism when introduced or absorbed.

I never want to be someone who communicates ideas without living out what I say, which I happen to think is a very nice value and I respect others who share the sentiment, however I would have been just fine talking about the "poison" this week without having to experience it in my own life. But God doesn't work like that does He? He knows that real authority in anything comes not through talking about it, but in actually walking it out, and so this week the "poison" and I have been doing some walking together. Oh the joy.

The "poison" as my friend so sweetly put it, is the experience that happens when we have been hurt or offended. Whether the one who harmed us was intentionally malicious, or accidentally insensitive, it stings our hearts and we want to retaliate or hide.

That's what happened to me this week.

It wasn't just one venomous situation, but a series of almost unnoticeable ones working together like a slow drip IV leaking toxic ugliness into my system. The poison invited a mean skeptic to rise up in me. When they would say something nice to me I would question their sincerity. When they would say something insensitive I would take it personally and relive the moment in my mind over and over again, making up fake comebacks to put them in their place. Even their attempts to love me felt irritating and painful, like when your shoulders are sunburned and someone gives you a hug.

I've experienced the poison lots of times before this week too. Like when my exboyfriend made out with another girl during our relationship. Poison. Or when I overheard a family I loved talking badly about my little sister. Poison. Or when I found out a "best friend" was gossiping about me and spreading rumors. Poison. Or when I heard people making fun of my husband and accusing us of being dishonest. Poison.

There are worse ones too but you get the idea. The point is that when we get hurt by somebody the poison invades our hearts. Did you see that? It invades OUR hearts. Meaning the poison does not access the heart of the person who hurt us, but it most definitely gets inside our own.

It's the resentment that tempts us to stay silently offended, adding little tally marks to the secret sheet in our mind keeping record of everything they do wrong. Its the bitterness that causes us judge their motives and character, making us quick to assume the worst about them. It's the insecurity we feel, the hopelessness of "this always happens" and "people always treat me like this." Its the loneliness of being let down by someone we love and admire. Its the temptation to leave or hide, to give up on the relationship without an explanation of our pain. Its the desire to retaliate, to gossip, to slander, to yell at or seek revenge. That's the poison my friend across the ocean feels. That's the poison I have felt. But the trouble with poison is that it only destroys the one who has ingested it. Which means that as long as I am the one with the poison in my heart, I am the one who will be destroyed by it.

So how do we get rid of this horrible thing that is capable of causing death in us? The answer is....
the F word.

No.

The other F word.

Forgiveness.

Forgiveness is not saying that what they did to hurt you was okay. Because in many cases it was absolutely not okay. Rather, to forgive is to release them from something they owe you. Essentially it is saying that you are no longer going to take responsibility for the justice of the situation. Shaun and I talk about forgiveness as something you are giving over to a higher authority, trusting that the authority will take care of it and you no longer need to ensure they get the penalty of their messed up actions. As believers in Christ we recognize that God cares about everything we go through and is passionate about justice. Therefore we can trust that when we surrender a situation to Him in our hearts, and practice forgiveness towards those who have hurt us, He will be faithful to work everything out.

Forgiveness is the only way to free us from the poison.

That's probably not new information for you. It wasn't for me either. But it was a reminder I needed. You have heard the quote, "Unforgiveness is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." You have also seen what happens to the person who holds a grudge against someone else: It consumes them. They talk about it. They think about it. They wonder what the other person is going to think about their latest instagram post or facebook status. They gossip. They slander. They secretly stalk the person's social media feeds and then try to live a cooler more photogenic life as a form of revenge. I have even seen it happen where the two people haven't spoken to each other in almost a decade but one of them is still convinced that the other is doing everything possible to destroy her life. Poison. Absolute poison.

But Jesus calls us to forgive. More than that, He commands us to forgive. I think He takes forgiveness so seriously because of the lavish, mind-boggling, absolutely crazy forgiveness He extended to humanity by dying for our sins. I also think it is because He is passionate about life. All throughout scripture, anywhere He went, life happened. Blind eyes opened. Dead bodies raised. Lonely people loved. Shamed women given dignity. Children valued. It's everywhere. He even said, "I have come to give you abundant life." It's no wonder then that he calls us to be people who forgive. If unforgiveness is like a poison that causes death, then forgiveness must bring life, because Jesus only commands us to do things that bring life.

Sometimes forgiveness requires us to go directly to the person who offended us and talk it through with them. Other times, when things like abuse are involved, it is safest to stay away from the offender but to extend forgiveness in our hearts through prayer and with the help of loved ones. Often for me, forgiveness involves lots of journaling so I can make sense of my scrambled thoughts and sort out whether or not the person actually did something harmful to me or if I was just being insecure and easily offended. In those cases I may still need to forgive them in my heart but it may not be necessary to talk with them about it because they didn't actually do anything wrong.

Let's do everything we can to be free from the poison. Let's love extravagantly, forgive quickly, and seek to understand each other. May people see Heaven in the way we do relationships. May we be people who assume the best and protect each other's reputations, and when we don't understand what they meant when they said that thing that hurt our feelings.... let's ask them instead of judging them for it.

Okay?

And how about another couple of F words??

Here's to fun & family! 

A couple great photos from the #batesweddingbash.

The bottom one is gold.

alive is beautiful.

It was almost 9ish in the PM and he was ready to go out. I had to remind myself to enjoy the spontaneity of it because the planner in me already had the night on lock and there was no ‘adventure with husband’ anywhere on the agenda. There were other things like: tidy up bedroom, go for a jog, and watch some of new friend Carly’s youtube video’s; but I thought husband would be with the skaters last night so I strategically planned a night to get things done. Anyway I put my plans on hold so I could go out with Shaunny which was much better anyway, and it really didn't matter except for the fact that I had been sitting most of the day so I had really wanted to jog. 

I started quietly thinking about my body while we were driving to the store. I had eaten a lot throughout the day. I recounted it, which is what usually happens in my brain on big eating days, it's like all the food I ate stares me right in the face, shaking its head and pointing its finger at me for eating so much. Big bowl of cereal for breakfast. Bigger than normal. Extra snack. Big lunch. Extra bread at lunch. Chips. Big dinner. Chips again after dinner. I didn’t mean to eat so much but I felt unusually hungry so I just kept going. Being on my period is probably most of the reason for my monstrous appetite this week, which answers the question that some of you were thinking... no, I'm not pregnant.... but regardless, the big eating day had my mind whirling.... "big eating" means "big body".... the fear was starting to settle in. 

We stopped at Rite Aid and Lay's BBQ Stax were on sale for a dollar, the kind that come in the Pringles type can, Shaun bought them excitedly because of course it was a great deal, and he gave me a few chips. I ate them and silently regretted it. I was thinking to myself, “...I was supposed to be jogging now, instead I am eating Lay’s...” 

Then after a few more errands Shaun decided he was in the mood for pizza. I know he sounds like a teenage boy, and he kind of is, or at least he would definitely eat like one if he didn't have a wife. He was extra sweet though and despite my obvious hesitation, he insisted that it would be fun to have a late night date. He was right.  So at almost 10pm we found an awesome pizza place in Montrose and each of us ordered a slice. I felt anxious about more food, but tried to relax and enjoy being with him.

The slices were New York style so “one slice” was actually more like 2 or 3 normal slices anywhere else. Mine had spinach and ricotta on it, my favorite. I had to keep to reminding myself how much I loved it because the fear of getting fat was growing louder and louder in my head. 

We found a bench outside by the street because the pizza place was closing. I ate most of my pizza, leaving only a little piece to take home. Shaun and I had a great conversation. We laughed a lot and talked about important things and silly things and I chose to be present. I chose to enjoy him and to enjoy the creamy ricotta and the fluffy crust and the perfect California weather. It was a choice and I knew it. A choice to quiet my fear of getting fat and to be alive to Shaun in that moment. Thankfully I did it.  

When we got home I went for a walk around the parking lot of the church. I listened to music and prayed and I surrendered my body to God, again. 

If you have spent much time on this blog you know that I am someone who values health. We only have one body and it is important to take care of it, physically, emotionally, spiritually. You know that. But my post today is not about that. I don’t need to remind you to eat well and exercise. I don’t need to tell you that drinking water is important and vegetables are important, and the occasional ice cream or late night pizza date is important too because health is holistic, and emotions and relationships with people are just as important as our diets. No, you already know all these things. 

Today I simply felt to remind us that being beautiful is about so much more than our appearance. If I could make you a coffee and tell you this stuff in person I would, but since we are here and I'm staring at a screen instead of into your gorgeous eyes, I'll trust that you will hear this like I feel it.

New mama. I could see you rocking your new baby last night on your front porch as I was walking around the parking lot of the church. It was beautiful. I wanted to tell you that it’s okay if your body doesn’t look like it did 10 months ago. Give yourself grace. You will get the hang of this mom thing and your body will adjust to her new role sooner than you think. You are working miracles right now in nourishing that little one with your very being. You may not look like you wish you did, but I see you, and I think you are exquisite. Beauty is not about having a tiny waist. Beauty is more alive than that. It nourishes and blesses. It comforts and soothes. It loves tenderly even when no one else sees. 

New bride. I hear you. You worked so hard to feel beautiful in that dress and then on the honeymoon you relaxed. The only trouble is that relaxing felt like “getting fat” and now you are home and he wants your body but you want to hide it because you are mad at it for getting bigger. I know sweet one. You’re okay. You are beautiful. Beauty is not perfection. Beauty is more alive than that. It welcomes and invites. It radiates with joy and allures with the authentic self, not the perfect self, but the broken self that is dearly loved anyway. 

Girlfriend. I know. All the songs make it seem so good to be you. "Feeling 22". But mostly you feel lonely and confused, smiling on the outside, aching on the inside. No dinner again tonight, because you’re “not hungry.” So hungry. Painfully hungry. Hungry for encouragement. Hungry for someone to see you and know you and remind you that you have what it takes. So you skip meals hoping that even with all those other things missing, at least if you have control, you will feel better. Pretty girl. Beauty is not controlling. Beauty is more alive than that. Beauty confesses. Beauty acknowledges the need to be loved and it is a lover too. Beauty dreams and believes and tries and fails. 

We all long to be beautiful. We were created to be beautiful. But we are daily bombarded with this idea that beauty is an outside thing relating only to our size and skin and hair and clothes. So we get anxious on days when we eat more than we wanted too, and we get deceived into seeing our wonderful seasons of life as our "fat seasons". We find ourselves anxiously trying to rush through them rather than slowing down and soaking them up. 

But beauty is available to us here and now. It is not something that will happen to us once we change this or fix that. It's not a number on the scale or a smaller pant size. Beauty is more alive than that and we have the opportunity to choose beauty today. Exactly where we are. Exactly how we are. We can eat the pizza. We can rock the baby. We can invite people into our story. We can allow the good stuff and the bad stuff and the everything else stuff to just be. We don't have to hide, because hiding isn't protecting us anyway, it is stealing the joy that could be ours by poisoning us with fear. Like the fear of getting fat. Let's reject that fear and choose to be present in this moment. 

Let's come alive friends. Because alive is beautiful. 

in light of fall arriving, a photo from last fall taken by the ever lovely Sarah Grunder. 

on slowing down.

On the flight home from New York City last week I decided that Fridays would be my writing days. I love to write and I think it is an important part of what I do so I wanted to create time in my life for it. Before I would set aside just a few hours in a day for writing because I never thought I was allowed to have a whole day. Taking a whole day was like taking an extra helping of dessert when I've already had some, greedy and selfish. But I have changed my mind on it. Partly because I think God led me to do it and partly because I learned recently that we are more effective when we group our tasks by similarity rather than jumping from one thing to the next all throughout the day. The lady at the conference said that it takes your brain something like 7 minutes to shift from one task to the next, so you end up losing time trying to multitask. She suggested planning your schedule in a way that keeps you doing the same type of job for longer chunks of time- a time for emails, a time for phone calls, a time for meetings... etc. It made sense to me because whenever I would give myself an hour to write I would feel rushed and depleted of creativity, distracted with thoughts of the never ending list of "other things" I needed to do soon. But this week was different. This week I planned my schedule like the lady said, working on MFC stuff all at once one day, and Beauty Arise stuff on a different day, and I saved the best for last, I made Friday my writing day. You can imagine how excited I was to wake up this morning, like a little kid on the first day of summer break. Thank you Lord for Friday.

I've been sitting here in a quiet space typing away with coffee at arms length and some water too so I don't die of dehydration, and classical music on my pandora station which is maybe a bit of an overkill but I thought it might make me feel even more like a real life writer. Everything is in place except of course the words, which I am trying to find now.

Sometimes I feel like I am racing, like I'm running through life at full speed attempting to fill my emptiness with busy-ness, afraid that if I slow down, then I'll feel, and that if I feel then I won't know what to do with my feelings and then I'll just dissolve into a puddle of mush on the ground. I don't even mean to do it. Its just hard to know how to focus and who to focus on and it seems like there are always so many things and people and needs fighting for my attention. So without knowing what to do I just race on full-speed ahead, hoping that if I get more done then the yucky feelings will die away. Of course they don't and they won't, not by racing at least. 

Almost 2 years ago I met with a pastor over coffee. Some would argue that she was actually the pastor’s wife but she also did pastor jobs so in my book she is a pastor too. Not only was she a pastor and the wife of a pastor but she was also a homeschooling mother to 6 children, and a working actress and model. You can imagine how bewildered I felt looking at this woman’s life. I was enamored by her, how could someone be so poised and lovely in appearance while also being so involved in all of these other places? When I asked how she managed to balance it all she gave me a glorious bit of wisdom that I have savored ever since. She said that God gives us all kinds of gifts and roles but He doesn’t intend for us to operate in all of them all at once. She said in some seasons she is more mother than actress, and in others she more actress than pastor; she is always faithful to God and to her family so that part never changes, but what varies is how she chooses to spend her time and energy in each chapter of her life. At that time she felt that the Lord had directed her to focus primarily on helping her children adjust to a recent move and so she had laid down some acting jobs in order to be fully present for her family and the church. She concluded her thoughts by expressing that regardless of how she is spending her time in a given season, she is never shy to claim the gifts God has given her, for instance, even if she hasn’t had a role in movie for several years she still confidently tells people she is an actress because she knows it is an important part of who God made her to be. I liked her answer so much, especially because she didn’t seem to be running in the way that I feel like I am running sometimes. She seemed rested and alive to the moment. I wanted that. I still want that. 

I am a wife of a handsome and Godly skater man who started and now directs an international ministry to skateboarders. I am a sister to Meredith and a sister to many other girls and women who have become like family over the last 26 years of my life. I am also a sister to a whole bunch of brothers, mostly skateboarders, who have shared a roof with us, some for months and others for years. These men have become my family too and I feel it most when they are dating girls because I get overprotective and a little weird and I know it can only be attributed to feeling like a big sister who needs to protect them from getting their hearts broken. I am a director of two different organizations that together encompass most of why I feel I was put on this earth. In one I am leading girls and women around the world to be who they were created to be and to understand their God-given beauty, identity, and value. In the other I am reaching out to professionals in the fashion and entertainment industries and inviting them to know the love of God and use their influence to impact the world for Christ. I live for that stuff. I am a blogger and a listener and a writer and a party thrower and a missionary who lives in a room at a church and doesn’t get paid but rather raises financial support from Christians who believe in what we are doing. I am a talker who loves to read and walk and win at sports. I am an intercessor, the crazy type of lady who prays for big things and little things and everything only because when I’m not praying I am worrying and I'm convinced that praying is much better than worrying. I am a communicator who would rather send a card than an email and would rather have coffee than skype. I like to shovel snow but I don’t like to pump my own gas. I like to mow the lawn but I don’t like to garden. I love California and Colorado and Spain and Chile and India.. and I think maybe everywhere else we have been too. I am a lot of things but I'm learning that I can’t be all of them all at once. Its too much and if I try it will destroy me. 

I want to slow down. I think I need to slow down. I can feel God inviting me to slow down, slowing me to a still. It's funny how desperate I am for Him. I need Him to lead me, I need Him to empower me, and I need him even to slow me down when I am racing beyond His will. It’s like a child who finds out her Mama is taking her for ice cream and then in her excitement she takes off running ahead to get to the ice cream shop as quickly as possible. Her mother slows her down, not because running is a bad thing, but because her running could lead her to bad things. She could get lost or end up in dangerous traffic, or even just miss out on the experience of being with her Mama as together they walk to their favorite place. 

God has promised me great places and I have taken off running. I’m slowing now though. Not because He is mad at me but because my running could get me lost, or take me to a dangerous place, or because it could cause me to miss this journey of being with Him. As I slow to a walk, and breathe deeply, I am assured that I can be everything He has created me to be while only giving my attention to some things in this season. One friend of ours who is famed in the world of skateboarding told us that since he knows he can't be there for everyone who wants his attention his goal is to do for one person what he wishes he could for everyone. Shaun and I think that is good advice. 

It's okay to say no. Its necessary even. And it is good to say yes to important things, like writing on Fridays. We all have gifts and roles and lots of things that we are called to do here on this earth, but we can't do them all at once. We aren't meant to. It is important to slow down. 

God is taking me to my favorite places and I am learning that I don’t need to race to get there. Besides if I am racing then I'll spill my coffee, and who would want to waste a perfectly good pumpkin spiced latte? 

Exactly. No one.

In the heart of slowing down here are some photos of our Palm Springs getaway a few weeks ago. Shaun and I hope to make a habit of "weekend getaways". Our goal is for them to be free or nearly free and a time to connect and prepare for the following week. They don't even need to be "away" necessarily, but they need to be a time of disengaging with work life and online life and any other life that takes away from our life together. We want to be intentional about our family and friends that feel like family, and about pursuing the heart of God. I'm 5 years into marriage, 7 years into trusting Jesus, and 26 years into life. 
Praise the Lord. Slowing down is a good thing. 

Thank you!

September is nearing its end and October is just around the corner. Unfortunately southern California missed that memo though and we have been melting over here with temperatures hitting over 100 degrees for most of the week! Thanks be to the God who created iced coffee and sandals, we are all coping quite well and counting down the days until we stop sweating long enough to put on a light cardigan and scarf. When that glorious moment happens you will definitely know about it because a shameless selfie will be in order and I’ll be counting on you to celebrate with us!

Thank you so much to all of you who were praying for us and cheering us on in New York City last week! We had an amazing outreach with Models For Christ and Beauty Arise and though I won’t be posting details on my blog about it I do plan to send a private email update about the week. If you would like to be on the list of happy folks receiving my message then please let me know by leaving a comment or by emailing beautyarise@ywamla.org!

I am going to be sharing a fresh blog post here soon, so I will wrap this one up now but just want you to know that I am grateful for you and hope you are doing well! If you haven’t followed @beautyarise on instagram don’t miss out. Our friend and newest Beauty Arise staff member Grace Penhale (@mydarlinglight) is now heading up our IG game and you can count on it being worth your double taps. She is a hero. 

Love you guys! 

a little vloggy. speak life not death.

Camp. A blog post from Spain.

(This post was written sometime in early July.)

Estter is the director of the camp we are leading here in Barcelona right now. She is a beautifully passionate 28 year old with plugs in her earlobes, a couple dread locks with beads under her perfectly wild curls, and a tattoo on her wrist of the world-map. She is the kind of girl that you would expect to see sitting in a park somewhere with a bunch of hippies playing djembe drums or dancing around on the beach with her layers of colorfully thrifted clothes bouncing around as she moves.
But instead she spends her days here with us at this camp for Spanish youth. I snapped this photo during one of our morning staff meetings. She thinks it makes her look serious.
I think it makes her look awesome.

--

I cried the morning the camp started. I didn't want to work the camp. Not even a little.
Shaun had been telling me for months that it would be good for us to serve this ministry and I believed him, because he is usually right about these things, but I still cried. I tearfully told him I was angry that we were doing this. I was not angry enough to quit, just angry enough to cry and need a hug and some hearty encouragement.

If God sees everything we are doing here on earth, and if we really are getting treasures in Heaven for all of the ways we please His heart, I expect that Shaun will get at least double the treasures I get. Because he is the one who puts up with my not-so-put-together-behind-the-scenes self... which could also be called my should-be-on-a-reality-show-nutso-crazy-I'm-embarassed-for-her self.

So Shaun hugged me. He reminded me of all the times I have been surprised by how incredibly things like this have turned out before. Like the time we agreed to lead a group of formerly drug addicted young people (like 2 months fresh from hardcore drugs) on an evanglistic outreach in southern California where everyday they were expected to hit the streets and tell people about Jesus and I literally bawled to Shaun before it started because I felt so out of my element. I did it anyway and it ended up being the best ever. I still tell stories from that trip because of all of the crazy and incredible things that happened.
Like the time a guy got healed in the street when two of ours friends prayed for him. It happened right after the guy had been cussing at our friends for talking about Jesus & instead of retreating our friends said, "Fine let us pray for your injured arm (the guy had his arm in a make-shift sling) and you'll see that our God can heal you. The guy agreed, but scoffed arrogantly during the prayer. After the prayer, I kid you not, the guy was healed! He started full on tripping out, moving his arm around and exclaiming things like "What the F*%^!? Jesus Christ just healed me!!"
I was completely blown away too. But my exclamations were less colorful.

Anyway. Needless to say, Shaun is usually right about things. Especially when it comes to trusting Jesus. He was right this time too. I could write an entire post about Shaun being right, and I probably should, just to honor him for all of the times I have doubted him.

But that's not this post.

This post is a reminder that God can handle our emotions. I'm learning that. In those excruciating times when I desperately want to trust Him, and I want to love people well, and I want to be brave, but inwardly I actually I feel like quitting everything and being a stay at home mom without any kids... God can handle it. He is patient to hear my cries, comfort my aching heart, remind me of His faithfulness, and then give me the strength I need to obey Him. What a relief.

The camp has been a gift. Straight from the Hands of Heaven. I am having fun, learning a lot, and watching lives get changed. My emotions are back in check too. Instead of feeling like Britney Spears when she shaved her head, things have gotten more Mother Theresa-ish... still requiring more of me than normal, but I'm smiling more than normal too.

All that to say friends, just trust God. Definitely cry when you need to, and hug a nearby loved one too, but ultimately just keep trusting Him. Even when He calls you to do things that are hard and scary.
He will be faithful. Beyond what you could ask for or imagine.
I promise.

Also Estter could be anywhere else in the world right now. But she is here. Giving her time to a bunch of teenagers who hardly know her and couldn't care less about what she gave up to spend her summer with them. I admire her for her sacrifice. I also admire her radical love for Jesus. It's evident in the way she loves all of us.
I want to be like Estter. & I just thought you guys should know.



Ps. I hope I didn't offend you by comparing myself to Mother Theresa. I am not really on her level yet and I'm aware. I also hope I didn't offend Britney Spears by bringing up the head-shaving incident. There's no shame girlfriend. I have had plenty of moments I'd rather ignore too.
Sorry yours got blasted all over international news.

vlog from Barcelona.

a video blog from outside our apartment.

haha... its a bit all over the place but its something! 

Barcelona beautiful.

Barcelona is a place of beauty. I like it because it's different from home. I like home too but at home we value efficiency. We build it to get it done, the look of something isn't our top priority. We want to make things that work well. Aesthetics are secondary. 

But here they place a high value on beauty. It is enough for something to simply be beautiful. Art is everywhere. The buildings are colorful and different shapes. The streets and sidewalks are adorned with curvy ledges and bricks and marble and metal sculpted pieces. Shaun is convinced the whole city was designed by a skater, because everything is skate-able, and even though he probably isn't correct, I love that he loves it here so much. He probably appreciates the architecture more than most. 

Being in Barcelona reminds me how much God cares about beauty. It is a reflection of His heart and invites us into His peace. Beauty points us to His glory and magnificence. It brings quiet comfort and a sweet joy, sometimes subtle, but undoubtedly sure.

I think the beauty of humanity is designed to do the same. Being here has helped me pray better for girls and women everywhere. I'm praying that our beauty would be a gift to those around us. A beauty that invites freedom and peace. Not a striving competitive beauty motivated by pride or insecurity, but a beauty that says, "I am enough. I am created by a beautiful Creator and my very being reflects His glory." I am praying that we would display a kind of beauty that actually encourages the beauty in others, a wonderful and contagious Barcelona-like beauty, that makes even skaters feel closer to heaven. 

I'm convinced that with humble grateful hearts we bring glory to our Maker in both creating and celebrating beauty. 

That is what Barcelona is teaching me this week. 

Here are a few photos from my anniversary date with Shaunny. We would have celebrated our 5 years of marriage on Saturday, because we were actually married May 31st like my grandparents, but I was as sick as can be. It's really okay though because Monday June 2nd turned out to be just as good. Also we intended to sit on the sand for part of our date but we must have somehow stumbled upon what Shaun and I, through hysterical laughter, called "Naked Man Beach"... named after... well... exactly what it sounds like. I have never seen so many old, TOTALLY NAKED men in my life. There were also a few people in swimsuits and one naked old woman, but they were invisible to me. I was distracted by the fact that there were like 10 naked old men dangling their treasures at me. Wow. So naturally we ended up on big cement blocks... far away from Naked Man Beach.  

What a warm welcome to this glorious city. Haha... I'm literally laughing as I type this. Ohhhh my.......

booty dancing, singleness, & Dorothea getting married.

Dorothea’s wedding invitation came in the mail today. It was in Swiss German so I didn’t understand all of it, but that’s okay because mostly I just loved the pictures and the fact that she sent me one even knowing that I probably can’t be there. She also sent me a Starbucks gift card. What an incredible friend. 

Thinking of Dodo getting married feels a bit holy. Like finally God is letting us in on the bigger story He has been writing all along. I’m sitting here recalling all of the tender, tear-filled hours Dodo and I spent talking together about her often lonely journey of trusting God for a husband. The conversations we had in Chile, our long late night walks in LA, the girly sleepovers in Switzerland, constantly talking about what it might be like when she “finds him” and how in the world she was supposed to keep herself sexually pure for another year... or worse.... years. We wondered together if she would end up with a Swiss guy, or maybe a Latino, because she had a thing for tan men... and dancing. My personal hope, of course, was that he would be an American, just because when you find a friend like Dorothea you want to live on the same continent as her for as long as you possibly can. So many times we prayed for this mystery man, confident God was preparing him for for her, even though we had no idea who or where the heck he was. It’s sweet to see her fiancé now and be able to put a face to our prayers. He is Swiss, and handsome, and they lead worship together in their church. He brings out the best in her and I love him for that. 

Dodo’s singleness was my favorite kind of singleness, it was the purposeful kind. Somehow God let me have the honor of being the friend who saw the lonely tears she cried behind the scenes, but those moments were few compared to the time she spent investing in people and following Jesus to the ends of the earth. Dorothea squeezed every last drop out of her singleness, leading teams around the world to serve others in places like Costa Rica, Haiti, Chile, Europe, and California. She was (and still is) incredibly open about her struggles, and hilariously disciplined about overcoming them too. Some of my favorite times happened when she wanted to flirt... or make-out... with dudes that weren't good for her, so instead she would memorize Bible verses to get her mind off it. There were a good few months where it seems like she was ALWAYS quoting scripture. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has the whole book of Psalms on lock now. 

Dodo loves bigger and more deeply than most people. In fact her ability to love big reminds me of the way she packs -- always, always BIG. I think Dodo packs for trips as if she is a small really well-dressed army moving to a foreign country for an unknown amount of time. She packs everything she might need, and everything you might need, and everything your sister might need too. Whether it rains, snows or is 99 degrees out everyday, she is ready. We led a team with her to Chile for a couple months and you would have thought she brought her whole closet with us. I actually know she didn’t though, because the day after we arrived there she announced that she had left her hair-straightener in her refrigerator back in LA... Her creative attempt to cool it off quickly, resulted in several months of wavy hair, and a confirmation that she did in fact leave something at home.

Dodo is a gift-giving, encouraging-note-writing, social butterfly who will stay up with you for hours, laughing, crying, praying, watching girly movies, or dancing with you to an R rated song until you are laughing so hard you are crying and need a good girly movie, and some prayer, to help you recover. Dodo listens with her whole heart, and gives of her possessions with her whole heart, and actually I think she does everything with her whole heart. When she was single she honored God with her whole heart, and now she is a few months away from being married and I’m confident she will honor God with her whole heart then too. 

It’s easy to get hung up on what we don’t have, whether it relates to singleness or anything else. But Dodo has shown me that I really can find all I need in Christ alone. 

By keeping our eyes on God & on the good He has for us right now we find renewed strength for life and peace to guard our minds. 

....And when all else fails, Dodo has taught me that a healthy dose of booty dancing and a good cry go a long way.   

Congratulations Doodle Bug, I love you and am SO happy for you.  

a few photos with Dodo from Chile, Switzerland & LA. 

that first one is from when we got tattoos together in Chile. :) 

Dorothea Wehrli is the Director of Beauty Arise Switzerland