My friend, Nait

The other night we had a business meeting at church. It sounds terrible, but actually it was pretty great. About 200 of us came together to worship and dream and pray. Those are the kinds of business meetings you want to make sure and attend.

I have a homeless friend who hopped a bus from downtown to also attend this meeting. I'm not sure why honestly.  Maybe he just wanted to be a part of something outside of his circumstance. Maybe he was just interested in what it would be like. Or maybe he was hoping someone would grab him some dinner or hand him some money. I honestly don't think that the reason matters that much.

He sat by me in the very front row of the meeting. When we worshipped, he worshipped also. When we listened, he did as well. He wasn't a spectator. He was engaged.

Part of the meeting, well a lot of the meeting actually, was spent sharing dreams and talking about land and blueprints for a church building. My church has been meeting in a local hotel since it started in 2010. The hotel is beautiful and fits us well but it's not maybe as practical as people would like. And sometimes the service changes locations to another hotel because those dates were already booked by someone, and that can get confusing. It's also very expensive.

I sat by my friend and listened. The church staff and elders talked about the vision for the church and for the new building. They talked about what it could look like. And of course they also talked about the financial aspect of it. One of the church leaders stated how much we have in a building account to get started. It was a very large sum of money by anyone's standards. And the thought of all of that money started to wreck me.

Here I was sitting by my sweet homeless friend, layered in coats, listening. And I got mad. I thought about how he was probably feeling bitter because after this meeting he was going to sleep on the streets downtown. He had real and tangible needs. Needs that could actually be met. He told me one time that he doesn't know if he wants a place to live even, but warm clothes, good shoes and friends were all important to him. And as I sat and listened to the dreams for this new church I felt the disconnect. You guys...I don't think building the new church is wrong. I completely and totally believe in our pastor and elder team. I know how much they love Jesus and seek Him in their decisions. But sitting in that chair by my friend, the disconnect has never hit me harder. And I didn't know how to reconcile it.

I found myself feeling bitter on my friend's behalf. Feeling the injustice of our world and wanting to figure out how to change things. The pastor gave us all time to pray over the dreams and decisions that were being made. I turned to my friend to pray with him and before we prayed he said "what if the church turned in cans? There's a lot of people here and if everyone turned in cans, you could make a lot of money". I was completely flabbergasted. I was about to apologize for all of the injustices in the world and instead my friend, with no bitterness or discontent, offered suggestions in the efforts of fundraising. We prayed. Well, mostly Luke prayed because I was fairly out of commission with the words at that point.

After prayer, the group worshipped. We thanked God for how he provides and for his goodness and beauty. We thanked Him for so many things. And I cried.

I don't understand the world. I try to. And sometimes I think I do. I encourage others all the time to find joy apart from their circumstance. To trust God. But in this room, I didn't understand how that could happen. How could someone who lived on the streets in cold Iowa winters offer fundraising help and keep himself from bitterness? My honest answer is that I don't know.

I was trying to process this with Luke recently. I usually need a sounding board so that my thoughts don't get so jumbled in my head and l can actually understand myself. I was telling him about all of this and he asked me what I was actually frustrated about. As I thought about that question, I realized I wasn't mad that the church was in the process of building. I wasn't frustrated even about my friend hearing about it. What I think I was really upset about is the idea of injustice as a whole. I was over generalizing the idea of prosperity and the idea of homelessness. But in reality, that isn't even true.

My friend attends church every Sunday. He also attends our Thursday night college ministry and receives money and food from the college students just because he's there. Sometimes he sleeps over at our friends' house and he has phone numbers of people in the church that he feels connected to. He has community. And he has needs that are being met. Luke was saying that maybe my friend wasn't mad or bitter because he sees the building as a good thing. And because money going to a building doesn't take away money and resources that are being used to help him. He sees no disconnect. He doesn't see our church for what it is or does on Sunday mornings. He sees people who take care of him and treat him like he's a human with emotions and needs and dreams and desires. He sees the church because it's entered into his life in an incredibly real way. I think that he sees Jesus because people are personally showing him what Jesus looks like.

Luke also asked me the sweet question of why am I writing this...he's just a doll, isn't he. I in no way was annoyed by this question. But when I got over my 'annoyance' and thought about it, the reason is because I want us to remember the point of the gospel. I want to remember that injustice will always be and the poor will always be with us. I don't think that's an excuses to become apathetic to it, but actually think the opposite. I think it should break our hearts and we should care, but I think the caring looks different than we may think. Although inviting people to church is good and awesome and truth will be heard, I think that most 'ministry' happens in our lives.  In our choices of how we deal with people around us and by asking God how to look more like Him and then by actually DOING IT. It creates more responsibility for you and me and not on the generalization of church as a whole. And I think that people really will know us by our love and that small obedient choices may actually make a bigger impact than we think. Because obedience is amazing and fruitful.

Today I feel thankful for a church that loves people well. And for a guy who sees past sucky circumstances. And for God's heart that heals and provides for things I can't even see.

Why I started and quit my job in the same day

A few months ago I realized how much I had missed counseling and being in the clinical counseling world. I missed meeting with people face to face and hearing their struggles and difficult decisions but also their joys and breakthroughs. I missed hearing their stories and seeing how God was so intertwined in pursuit with them. I love both the role of the counselor and of the person being counseled. I think it's absolutely beautiful. There were also less altruistic things I missed about counseling. I really like having an office. I like my books on a shelf and things that inspire me on the walls.  I also really like the paycheck. I think it's fun to be payed for doing the things I already love. I also think it's fun to pay the bills including the college debt I accrued so that I might one day be able to be a counselor. Lastly, embarrassingly, I like initials behind my name. I like to sign papers and then add LMHC, telling the world how important and smart I am. Honestly, I like the feeling of significance.

Because I was missing all of these things listed above (yes...all of them) I decided the next thing to do was to start job searching. I had rationalized my choice with the fact that I loved the counseling setting and My daughter, Lanie had not been hospitalized since January. I couldn't think of a solid reason NOT to go back to work and off to the computer I went.  I spent a solid two days on my resume and cover letter and I'm not gonna lie, they looked fantastic. I was convinced the moment an employer saw what I had to offer they would be fighting tooth and nail to have me as an integral part of their team. They would probably even up my salary to sweeten the deal.

It turns out that job searching is a humbling experience you guys. I mean, did you know that every company I applied to didn't call me back that same week. Or actually at all, like ever? I thought for sure the first few companies didn't see my resume or something happened and I had sent it to the wrong person who didn't know beauty and importance when they saw it. When it happened three or four times, I started thinking that maybe it just took a really long time to get back to me and finally after a month it hit me. I wasn't nearly as important and sought after as I thought. I upped my game and started applying for jobs I was actually qualified for, even though they didn't seem as glorious. And some of those didn't call me back either. But some of them did. I was called for interviews and second interviews. It was honestly a blast. I started thinking maybe I should be a full time interviewee for a job and then I realized how old talking about myself day in and day out would be and immediately retracted my excitement of creating that job. Finally I landed on a position I felt semi-ready for. I had done similar therapy in the past and although it honestly wore me out, I knew I could do it. I accepted the offer on a Friday and by Monday I was in filling out paperwork and signing my name with my beloved initials behind it. It felt good to seem important again.

I left the next day for a conference in Chicago that talked about story and passion and love. We talked and heard about how to find meaning in the stories we were already living and how to help others find meaning in their own stories. It was beautiful. Authors and speakers that I have loved from a distance were personally looking me in the eyes and asking what I wanted. Not only were they asking that question, but they were asking me what God was about and how those things were able to be smooshed together.  I ask college students this all the time when I hang out with them but I hadn't had a lot of time or even clarity to understand these things for myself. And when I did, it was terrifying. I realized I didn't know what I wanted. Like what I ACTUALLY wanted. I had an incredibly difficult time figuring out what I honestly loved compared to what I felt like I was supposed to love. Who was I apart from who I was supposed to be? That's a tough question to ask yourself. A worthwhile one, but a tough one nonetheless. I don't think I've completely figured it out even now as I right this, but it's a process I am looking so forward to in these next few days and weeks.

One thing was for certain. Every day at the conference I would be flooded with material, and inspiration, and I felt freedom to dream. And every evening when the conference was over I would go back to my hotel room and pour myself into learning all I could about this new job I would be starting on Monday. I read every article I could find on childhood trauma and mental illness and creative family therapy. Mental health and therapy in any form fascinate me, so I didn't mind all of the time and energy I was adding to my evenings. But the most interesting thing happened every night when I turned off my iPad and closed my books. I cried. And what's even worse than crying every night, is having no clue why you're crying. You guys. I felt like a complete lunatic. And I felt completely confused.

What felt even worse was the gnawing feeling or possibility that I would have to come home and tell Luke...and my friends and family...that a piece of me was thinking of quitting the job I had just committed myself to but I couldn't articulate why. And let me tell you, the fear that set in when I started seeing the future where I quit my new job was a beast. I started thinking...

The money that I'll make from this therapy position will be so incredibly helpful. Who doesn't want to double their income? And pay off school loans? And feel like a valuable and contributing member of their family?

And what will I tell people? They'll think I'm lazy...or wishy washy or even flaky. Those three adjectives alone can send my fragile identity into a tornado of negative and self depreciating thoughts.

And what will Luke think? Will he be frustrated and annoyed at my lack of commitment? Will he tell me he supports whatever I choose, but then silently seethe at my seemingly selfish choice? And also...will he be embarrassed and therefore love me less?

And even though I had tried I didn't know how to form my thoughts when talking through this decision with people. I felt unclear and ridiculous. How could I tell people that I was turning down a solid and great job because I something inside of me felt wrong. Don't ask me what...I didn't know. I wrestled all week feeling the need to be all in to this new job so I immersed myself in it, but couldn't deny that there was a disconnect in my heart. On the way home from Chicago I tried to set up calls with a few people who love Jesus and who tend to lean on the side of adventure and ridiculousness. People who aren't traditional in their thinking or in their love. Only one person had some time during that drive to talk, which allowed me plenty of time alone to think and pray and rock out to some sweet music (which in hindsight was even more of God's sovereignty). I love and value people and what they say. Probably too much. But wasn't that one of the real problems? I didn't trust or value who I was in this. God is a genius.

The one person I talked to called me two hours into my three and a half hour drive home. Perfect again. I had some good processing time before the phone call to not seem like a rambling delusional person when trying to talk plus still had enough time to enjoy the conversation which included asking this girl just how crazy I was on a scale of one to The Joker. My friend asked me a couple of questions about the conference in regards to content and then said "so what's up? I know God's doing something". You guys. That statement was all the freedom I needed to spill my heart. I felt understood even before I had been listened to. I told her my heart. And my concerns. And how I had been seriously wrecked but didn't understand why or even how. She listened and laughed and asked me more good questions. When I was done talking there was a fairly long pause and then she started laughing. Like hysterically.  I started laughing too. It's contagious. She told me that this last year I hadn't felt like it was my choice to 'stay home' and coach girls and do counseling on the side and pick up the kids from school. I felt like I was doing it because it was a transitional time and I was waiting for something 'real to come up. Then she said something beautiful. "Ali. Now God is letting you choose. He is allowing you to see your life that you already have full of passion and love as a choice instead of a default". I have never felt more understood in a single sentence. I had no idea that's what I thought but it totally was. She summed up all of my internal dilemmas with one sentence. The simplicity almost knocked me over.

Saturday night I got home excited by the revelation but terrified by the idea of relaying it to others, Luke included. And I knew that I had to make a decision by Monday morning before I walked into my new office.  Surprisingly, everyone I talked to Sunday was behind me. They not only were supportive and encouraging about me quitting my new job but they were also excited. I was completely shocked by their reactions. Luke told me that he felt so much better about this decision than the decision to go back to work. And I felt so relieved.

I drove to my new office Monday morning and walked into the building. I had practiced what I was going to say maybe 500 times. My plan was to walk in, ask to speak to my supervisor, and tell her my rehearsed statement as to why I was quitting in the same moment I was getting started. Of course my supervisor wasn't there so I waited in my new office space. I saw the cabinets that would hold my cases and reports. And the bookshelves that would show off all of the books that taught me so much about counseling and families. And I saw my computer and phone, waiting to be utilized. And still she didn't come. Another therapist walked up to me and excitedly asked if I was the new therapist. I smiled super weirdly and said 'sort of'. She awkwardly laughed and walked back to her office. I would love to hear her thought of how that conversation went.

When my supervisor walked in, I asked if I could talk with her. I suddenly forgot my whole beautifully articulated statement of why I was quitting and rambled something about how I knew it would be better for the company and for me to step out now and not wait until I felt burned out later. She told me how disappointed she was to lose me but thanked me for being honest. I'm still not sure completely what that means.

So here I am, a girl that was a full time therapist this morning at 8:45 and by 9:15 was again jobless. But honestly, you guys, I've never felt freer. Free to write this morning, and meet with girls this afternoon. Free to pick up the kids from school and play with them and read with them. Free to give plasma in the middle of the day (because...money you guys. Oh. And saving lives). And free to do premarital counseling with couples throughout the week.

I talked to someone today that used the analogy 'sink or swim' but I don't know if I believe that to be true. I think we get tricked into thinking that there are two choices but really, there's so many more. What about the people who like to float? I'm saying we should be floaters but I am thinking that sometimes the most obvious choices are the only ones.
Choice is just a funny thing. When you are doing something and feel as though you were placed there, you forget the freedom aspect. But...when you have the opportunity to choose something else and realize that you would rather be doing what you're already doing...oh my goodness. That is a beautiful gift.

Wise little children

Most nights before the kids lay down and I'm home with them alone, we end up talking for quite a while about the most random things. Usually it's something like "mom, would all of our organs fall out if we didn't have skin or would our bones hold them in?" Or "hey mom, I have this really great and LONG story to tell you about this one thing that happened at school." Or maybe "mom, what's the weirdest thing you ever did when you were little?" Ok fine. These kids know what's up at bedtime. I am a relational being, friends, and these children are not dumb.

Tonight was no different. Except that it sort of was. I was sitting on Jackson's floor getting ready to pray over them when Lanie asked the first question.

L - "Hey mom..."
Me - "Lanie. I already let you guys stay up too late. It's time to go to sleep"
L - "But I just have a question"
Me - "Seriously. You guys are gonna drive me nuts. You always have a question at bedtime. Every night. FOR REAL. You know I'm gonna answer you and the you'll be up for like 5 more hours coming up with 100 more questions I'll feel the need to answer. I'm gonna pray and then you guys need to go to sleep. Are we good?"
L - "It's just one question. I promise."
Me - "Ugh. Fine. One question."
L - "When a kid at school makes fun of my scars, do I tell a teacher or just ignore them?"

Silence.

And then instant anger towards whatever punk kid would say something about another kids scars... What is wrong with people?! And who should I call first in the school system to give this kid some serious talking to? (My immediate responses are not always my best folks.  At least they usually happen inside my head). Instead of flying off the handle and asking who this kid was and googling how I could get ahold of their parents, I took a deep breath in (partly to hold back my tears and partly because I needed to gather my sane thoughts) and smiled at Lanie.

Here was my little girl, sitting in front of me, waiting for me to answer. She wasn't mad. She was just sincerely asking me what to do. She was already choosing a higher road, she just didn't know what it was.

Jackson started asking who the mean kid was and told me that tomorrow he would tell the kid to leave her alone and tell them how dumb it was to say that, especially to a girl and that her scars are cool and that he wishes that he had some too because it looks like she was in a really awesome sword fight. Whew. This kid.

I thanked Jackson for his tenacity but said maybe we could just talk about it a little first (but also...let's do what Jackson said).

I told Lanie that kids question, and sometimes make fun of, the things that are different from them or the things they don't understand. I told her that this kid had probably never seen scars like hers and didn't know how to react or what to say, so instead they just made fun of her.

I asked her a couple of questions about the words that were used and how that made her feel. I asked her about what she wanted to do in that situation vs. what she did do. She answered my questions and then told me that usually kids don't see her scars but today at recess she was hanging off of a bar and her shirt came up. She then told me what the kid had said (KIDS CAN BE MEAN YOU GUYS!) and then she said she just pulled her shirt down and walked away to go play on the swings. Oh the grace. This one is a ball of fire and I usually have no idea what will send her over the edge and what she will allow.

I asked her what SHE thought about her scars and she looked up at me with a huge smile and shrugged her shoulders and said "I like them". "I like them too" I told her and smiled back at her.

I told the kids how proud of them I am; for Jackson standing up for his little sister and for Lanie not letting other people's opinions change her or discourage her.

I am blown away by the hearts of my children, you guys. I have one mean comment or snide remark thrown my way and I feel angry or defeated. I take so much to heart. And I allow myself to overthink the words spoken to me...or about me. And then here is Lanie: 8 years old and secure in who she is and unscathed by what she has endured. And proud of the marks this life has left on her.

I saw this quote the other day and thought instantly of Lanie and the strong and courageous beauty she is...and of all of the other children and adults we know fighting diseases and hardship and difficult life situations.

“Scars show us where we have been, but they do not dictate where we are going.”
― David Rossi

Scars are just scars. They are stories of what happened but they don't define who we are.

Man. I am thanking Jesus tonight for the way he protects little hearts and minds. And for the story that my kids will be able to tell about God's goodness and love.

Feeling Inspired

With all of the crazy and sad and terrible things happening in our world today, I feel like I have just been at a total loss as to what can actually be done to make any sort of dent in the atrocities taking place around the globe. There are so many issues to take a stand for. So many things that are just so wrong. So much poverty and homelessness and abuse and disease and trafficking and killings. So many things to shake our fists at and protest and pour ourselves into. You guys. It is honestly so overwhelming. And I think it's also debilitating.

It's easy to say "there's so much, what can I do?"

Or "how do I even choose what to fight for?"

And then to become apathetic or cynical and to hide out and in the comfort of our own lives and decide that it's better and easier to be ignorant. Except we're not ignorant, anymore.

I have been so incredibly inspired by my friends lately! They have said "things aren't okay and I want to do something. I want to be a part of something bigger than myself and my comforts and my life" and then they actually did something.

My friend, Jason, has been raising thousands of dollars and crazy amounts of awareness in regards to human trafficking all over the state of Texas. Today he is embarking on a sweet and rigorous journey, running over 30 miles for the next 30 days (850 miles across the state of Texas). I'm not saying everyone should do this (gross. I'm nervous about my upcoming races that are tiny in size compared to that).  But his creativity and passion excite and inspire me. If you want to follow along with Jason and his crazy awesome trek, you can on Facebook under Texas Freedom Run or on his website at http://texasfreedomrun.com/

Holly, who has been someone who has spurred me on to things outside of myself since I was 18, not only started a Royal Family Kid's Camp in Florida with her husband and some friends but also mobilized me, as well as many others to do the same. If you haven't heard of RFK, look them up. http://royalfamilykids.org. They are doing amazing things all over the world to confront abuse and change lives. 

Jenny and about one hundred other people I know, including my husband and son, have spent time in China at Bring Me Hope Camp loving on orphans for two to four weeks at a time and then coming home and advocating for their adoption. You guys! It is so beautiful to hear day after day that not only were these orphans loved well in China but now they are finding homes all over the world, and becoming family members and children who are loved and cared for. Get to know more about this at http://www.bringmehope.org. 

Lilli has spent time in Southeast Asia learning firsthand about trafficking and meeting the women and children who have been rescued as well as some who are still being trafficked and prostituted, too scared or hardened to know that there is anything else out there for them. Once back in the states, her passion for speaking up for these women and children didn't go away just because she was out of the trenches and back to her 'normal life'. In 2012, Lilli founded The Rescue Run, located here in Iowa City. Lilli organized it so that all of the proceeds from the run were invested into a sweet organization called Rapha House. They are doing some awesome stuff over there... See for yourself http://www.raphahouse.org. The Rapha Run is actually taking place THIS Saturday. It's never too late to sign up and I've made it easy for you. Here are the details. http://www.jogrunrace.com/Race/View/199226/the-rescue-run-5k-runwalk-2014-iowa-city-iowa-october-4-2014

Jess spent three months of her life in Uganda, working with Children's Hope Chest and the Orphans of Teso. What God taught her there is incredible and invaluable and beautiful and hard. You can read her newest blog about willingness and what it means to say yes at http://orphansofteso.com/2014/09/29/freed-to-love-by-jess-hanson/

Sharon decided to open her house to foster kids after seeing firsthand how many children in the local area have been abused or neglected. 

Aidy offers free counseling to people who are searching and struggling. 

Suzie and her husband generously support and give to an orphanage in Haiti and also have taken trips to meet the kids they are pouring into across the ocean. 

And the list goes on and on...

There are just so many beautiful things to be a part of. 

You guys. This isn't a feel bad message about the things we aren't doing. Believe me...that's not my heart. And it's not a post about being involved in these things because we should or feel bad or guilty if we don't. 

Its a totally freeing message. It's a message that says you CAN do something. We literally have the means and access. And I don't know what that something is. Maybe it's going somewhere and doing something. Maybe it's helping out locally. Maybe it's giving financially. And maybe it's mobilizing others to go when you can't. 

And not even doing these things because we should or because we'll feel bad if we don't but because it's what Jesus did so that God's name would be known. And the more people in my life that I think about, the more I am excited about what their yes's look like and the fact that they even allowed themselves to say yes at all! 

And suddenly I am inspired and overwhelmed by all of the pure amazingness taking place in the world by people saying yes instead of feeling cynical and apathetic by the overwhelming problems that we are confronted with day in and day out in all forms of media. 

Day 31

Today marks Day 31 of the Whole30. Most people would be flipping out and drinking PSL's and eating a cupcake. Or something like that. Well, I guess even if I were celebrating in that way I couldn't have either of those things because my body can be super annoying. It hates dairy and wheat. Oh and beans. And I'm allergic to bananas. Because why wouldn't I be? I'm just a low maintenance sort of gal, I guess. Ugh. Yeah right. Maybe in every other area of my life.

Back to the whole30 though. Have y'all heard of it? It kind of goes like this... (Taken from http://whole30.com) 

"No: Avoid for 30 days.

·         Do not consume added sugar of any kind, real or artificial. No maple syrup, honey, agave nectar, coconut sugar, Splenda, Equal, Nutrasweet, xylitol, stevia, etc. Read your labels, because companies sneak sugar into products in ways you might not recognize.

·         Do not consume alcohol in any form, not even for cooking. 

·         Do not eat grains. This includes wheat, rye, barley, oats, corn, rice, millet, bulgur, sorghum, amaranth, buckwheat, sprouted grains and all of those gluten-free pseudo-grains like quinoa. This also includes all the ways we add wheat, corn and rice into our foods in the form of bran, germ, starch and so on.

·         Do not eat legumes. This includes beans of all kinds (black, red, pinto, navy, white, kidney, lima, fava, etc.), peas, chickpeas, lentils, and peanuts. No peanut butter, either. This also includes all forms of soy – soy sauce, miso, tofu, tempeh, edamame, and all the ways we sneak soy into foods (like lecithin).

·         Do not eat dairy. This includes cow, goat or sheep’s milk products such as cream, cheese (hard or soft), kefir, yogurt (even Greek), and sour cream

·         Do not consume carrageenan, MSG or sulfites

·         Do not try to re-create baked goods, junk foods, or treats* with “approved” ingredients. Continuing to eat your old, unhealthy foods made with Whole30 ingredients is totally missing the point, and will tank your results faster than you can say.

·         One last and final rule: You are not allowed to step on the scale or take any body measurements for the duration of the program. This is about so much more than just weight loss, and to focus on your body composition means you’ll miss out on the most dramatic and lifelong benefits this plan has to offer. So, no weighing yourself, analyzing body fat or taking comparative measurements during your Whole30. (We do encourage you to weigh yourself before and after, however, so you can see one of the more tangible results of your efforts when your program is over.)

So that's intense, right?!? This is my 5th time doing it. Sort of. My first one started in November of last year. And during that 30 days, my family went to Disney. Yeah. I obviously didn't make it. And then I thought about starting again in December. And then Luke and I went to Mexico. C'mon you guys. Have you ever had food or drink in Mexico? At a resort? Ok then. Failure #2. And then started again January 1st. And made it all the way until January 17. My birthday. And my husband, because he says he loves me, talked me into having a drink with him. Failure #3. Number 4 happened in April. A month or so before our family was about to leave for Hawaii. (This was a crazy year and I promise we aren't jet-setters who travel the world frolicking in our sun hats and living fancy and what not. It just kind of happened to be like that last year). Anyway, Luke did it with me. Again. Like almost every other time and we were both super bored by week 2. So like anyone else would do. We quit. Four solid times of giving up and quitting and making excuses about why I can't do something so incredibly hard. 

I don't think quitting is the real issue here. I think the real issue is me. And the way I think about a lot of things. I've struggled with issues involving food for a really long time. And maybe I'll talk about that in depth another time. But really, food isn’t even the issue. I mean, it was a driving part or circumstance but really, the way I viewed myself. And my life. And my thoughts. And my view of God. Those were the real issues. And, believe me, I sought freedom from God for all of those things friends, but honestly didn't know how to find it. I knew that I had been set free in general. But I guess that I thought all of these other things might just decide to hang on for life. And I was beginning to be okay with that.

And then I talked to my sweet little friend Rachel this summer. And we were talking about how I still feel bad physically a lot and how I MOSTLY stick to clean eating (hahahahaha). And she told me about this friend of hers who has some of the same autoimmune disorders I do. And how this friend of hers committed herself to 2 months to strict eating. And how amazing she felt. I made a decision then and there. I could do the same. Feeling bad all of the time SUCKS you guys. So I picked a date on the calendar. August 10.  Exactly 2 months away from the date that 9 other people and I committed to run the Tough Mudder together. Because were dumb.  And because if I'm going to run this race, my body needs to feel good. I mobilized everyone I know to join me. In the race and in the whole30. I don't know how or why, but they did! So August 10, Luke and 4 other of my friends made the decision to do it all together. Not for 30 days, but for 60. Hats off to these people. They don't have autoimmune diseases. They don't struggle mentally with food like I do. They just do it because they are awesome. And supportive. And say yes before they actually think about what they are saying yes to. This is a win for me most of time. 

As soon as I made the decision to do it again, though, something happened inside my brain. I remembered all of the other times I had failed. And how the way I thought about myself and food was so skewed and how the idea of restricting certain types of foods drove me to a downward spiral of disgustingness. Honestly, I would've quit before I started. But then I remembered. I had asked EVERYONE ELSE I KNOW to do it too. And they had committed. I felt trapped. And terrified. And like I had failed before I even had time to start. 

I prayed and asked God to get me out of this situation I had created for myself. And He didn't. For some ridiculous reason the people who were doing it with me were excited. FOR THE LOVE! Okay. So I wasn't going to get out of it. Something else had to change then. I sought out God. I begged him to take over my mind and my choices and my desires in this. I asked for Him to help me to choose the best for me and not to give in just because I'm tempted by anything other than the best. And I asked Him to renew my mind, because, honestly it had tried to do it myself and sucked at that too. I also decided that I would start fasting on Mondays. And give my week to God (a discipline that is SO GOOD, but neglected so often because it's hard. Or annoying). 

You guys know what? The first day came. And it was my fasting day. And I constantly was thanking God and asking Him to remind me of my choices. And how I felt when I chose foods that don't love my body. And then the second day happened. And I chose the whole30 every hour of that day. And so did my friends. Same with day 3. And 4. And 5. Pretty soon, we were past the headaches and flu like symptoms and bad attitudes. And more time went by. And we continued to choose to whole30 foods. And I thanked God at the end of every day because, you guys, He is the reason I want to choose the best for me! 

And so here we are. Day 31. And you know what? I have learned SO FREAKING MUCH! And here it is...

1. Don't step on the scale even on day 31. Screw the scale actually. I did it anyway. And I had lost 7 pounds. You guys. I was disappointed. I thought for sure I should've lost 10 or 20 pounds easy. I know how ridiculous I am. And that dumb scale reminded me of the days (actually just a short 30 days ago) when I stepped on the scale every morning. And after workouts. And sometimes in the evenings. And how I allowed that number to rule my life. And my joy. It's gross.  And these last four weeks without that terrible day ruiner in my life have been so much more joyous. And I lie down at night and thank God for another day of choosing my best in the food department. And for His help. 

2. My thoughts have changed. There's no way I would bash the scale in the olden days (ahem...30 days ago). I haven't changed them, though. I do remind myself at times, when I feel defeated or frustrated with my body or food or whatever, that I've chosen well. Guilt has no place in me. And then I remember to thank God for the help. And then I remember to thank God for all of the other things in the world that I'm thankful for. AND YOU KNOW WHAT?!? When I take the focus off of myself and place it on who God is...God changes me! He changes my habits of thinking. I haven't focused on my thighs. Or my stomach. Or my arms. Or whatever. Because I have chosen to focus on who He is! And what He is doing in my head. YOU GUYS! If you knew my past or if you are a person who has struggled with disordered eating or the negative and harmful behaviors that come from it or a negative view of your body, YOU UNDERSTAND how huge this is. 

3. My body is a machine, y'all. Honestly. For most of the whole30 I haven't felt any magical thing happen with how my body feels. And it has been frustrating to wake up and still know that there are things I can't do right now because my body sucks so much health wise. But these last couple of days...oh man. I have felt stronger. And faster. And in less pain than any other time since being diagnosed. It makes me so excited for the next 30 days. And for what life could look like even after that. 

And it makes me realize that God really does have a best for us. When thinking about the diseases that trash my body at times and then thinking about how just a little bit of discipline and a lot of getting closer to God has given me freedom in a way I never thought possible, I get so excited. 

And for the first time in literally forever, I am more focused on choosing life and joy and God and real food than I am on my body and how I feel about myself and my insecurities and the behaviors that come from that line of thinking. This is so huge you guys. I can't even. 

And I can honestly say, even though I have never been able to before truthfully, that I am choosing God and all of the things that have happened throughout this last month than losing weight and inches. 

That's God you guys. 

Just tweaking my life. Again

This has been a busy week. Aren't they all, though? Jackson came home from a week long camp, just in time to start getting ready to leave for China with Luke. Lanie and I have been trying to get things done as well in order to fly to Texas and then go home for a day before driving north to Minneapolis for another 4 days.  And I feel like even in all of the busyness of getting things done and preparing for trips ((yeah right...preparing *laugh*), God has been moving and speaking. And about one thing in particular...

Luke was able to take off work on Tuesday of this last week to attend a funeral with us in Sumner, where we pastored a church for 6 years. A funeral is never something we look forward to (obviously) but it's always amazing to see people I love so much all come to one spot. This particular funeral was for a grandpa. Grandpas seem to be one of the most loved people in the world and this one was no different. The church was packed to standing room only.

As I sat there and listened to the stories of this grandpa and the relationship he had with his children, grandchildren, and even great grandchildren, I saw that there was a similar theme running through all of the stories...and it was the same exact thing my heart keeps wandering back to this week. Time.

Although a lot of the stories revolved around fishing and hunting and checking the garden and 'engineering' new ideas, the common thread always revolved around the time that was spent together. Every child who spoke...every grandchild who shared...it was always the same. And this is not a little family. Story after story it went. "Grandpa and I would spend time doing this..." and "when grandpa and I did this...".

It was amazing to hear.

I heard about the special nicknames he gave to every single grandchild and the stories on why they received it.

I heard how they would go for drives and joke and laugh and look for animals out in the trees by the road.

And how they would go out in the boat but forget the paddles, leaving them with their imaginations and a shovel to get to shore.

So many stories. And honestly not one person who talked to me told me about the money he spent on them or the birthday parties he threw for them or the incredible wisdom he passed down; although maybe he did do all of those things. Instead they talked about being together and feeling known by him.

And as I sat and listened to the stories being shared, God pressed into my heart.  I started thinking about all of my favorite memories with the people I love.  Every single one of those memories involve people investing time into a relationship with me. Getting to know me and inviting me into their daily adventures (which at times include getting groceries and doing laundry and talking about life and the things that interest us and make us excited).

It doesn't feel that difficult to be generous in sharing our house...or even our things (well, it sometimes feels difficult to share my favorite Hawaiian coconut peanut butter, because you guys, I can't even describe to you how amazing it is. I just want to hide it in the back of the fridge so no one ever finds it. I don't...but I want to).  It's not that hard most of the time to give financially when there is a need, or even a want. And it's fun to give gifts and plan parties and events and send our kids to camps or retreats. Those things aren't wrong.  Don't misunderstand me, I missed Jackson when he was at camp for a week...like A TON...but you guys would not believe how much I got done  having just one child at home. If the offer had been there, the girl child's bags would've been packed to go as well and I would've spent a week of productivity and bike riding and trail running and frolicking and maybe even taking a few naps in the middle of the day.  And they both would've had such great times while away too! Camps and retreats aren't bad. I think that God asks us to be generous with everything and those things are probably included. But time...time is hard. It requires extra effort and patience and more energy than I have some days.

And it's not JUST with our kids. If it were it would maybe be a little less daunting. It's with our spouses and our family members and friends and coworkers and whoever else we're investing in (hint hint DISCIPLING AND GROWING). It's getting to KNOW the people in my life and taking them with me when I do things. It's listening when they talk and sharing my life with them in return (which is way harder for me. "So tell me about life...uh huh, uh huh...awesome! Oh how am I? I'm great! LET'S TALK ABOUT YOUR STUFF AGAIN!"  Amiright??). I'm exhausted just thinking about it...

I obviously don't have this all figured out. I just know that I want to be someone who is intentional with my time. I want to share it openly, yet wisely. I want to invest in the things I do with my people. And make memories. I want to KNOW the people in my life (I feel like that's a crazy thought.  Aren't we supposed to just use 'hey! How are you?!' as a greeting???). I want to choose to teach instead of doing things myself, even though doing things on my own is faster, and probably better (well...it is! Don't judge). I want the my people to know that I KNOW them and I want for them to KNOW me.

I wonder how different my life would look with a few little changes in intentionality.

And I'm hoping to find out...

I needed a reminder

I have been talking to quite a few people lately about the idea of living a good story (insert Donald Miller and Bob Goff quotes here...because they are all amazing and I just don't have the time to copy the books they have written into this space). I LOVE the thought of living a good story. One with adventure. And excitement. And generosity. And courage. And so much love. WHO DOESN'T? My husband talks incessantly about movies like ' Braveheart' and 'Gladiator' and even 'The Secret Life of Walter Mitty' (which I'm sorry to say I fell asleep in the middle of and will not stop being bothered by so many people in my world until I watch the thing...until the end. Why do movies have to be so long anyway?) 

And of course, all of this good-story talk has led me to evaluate my life, past and present. The truth is (because I can be a selfish and present-centered girl at times) I tend to look at what I'm doing day to day and see a life of dishes, kitchen cleaning (why is it dirty again the minute I walk into any other room of the house????) running the kids to events and other uninspiring tasks. Sometimes I lay in bed at the end of the day and wonder where the day went and if I was productive for even a second of it. And the last couple of days I came to the realization...we usually don't get to see stories happen on day to day basis, I guess unless you're Jack Bauer, and then every minute of your life is spent saving the good people of LA...and sometimes the president. 

And most amazing stories don't look so amazing in the present time! I think that's why God says 'Remember' a lot to us. Because He has done so many things with and through us but a lot of times we have to look back to see. 

Being a year out of my daughter, Lanie's double transplant has caused me to look back a lot. And to remember. And not just about the last year, but in general. 

Like the time I was 'asked to leave' a university after only being there for a day shy of three weeks and ended up in a small Iowa city I honestly couldn't pronounce the name of at first. Also, let it be known that Texas geography can use some help and the whole trip up to Iowa I thought I was moving to Idaho. In that small Iowa town I found Jesus. And who I really was. And met people that would mold and shape my life even to this present day. Wow. God's sovereignty is real. 

And also like the time Luke and I were shocked when the day we graduated college there were no phone calls with people begging for us to come and work for them with our newly held degrees. I mean, the nerve. We were valued college graduates ready to make our mark on the world whole by accepting offers from high paying companies with plenty of benefits. Apparently that's not how things work. Fortunately for us Luke's family had a drivable camper that we could live in for a few months until we figured out what we wanted to do in life...in his parents yard. Because...Missouri. Our two years in Missouri were a huge blessing by the way, where good story after good story intertwined and God's provision reigned. 

And the time we had a baby boy and 15 months later a baby girl. And we had no idea what to do as parents. I can't believe the hundreds of times we could have killed them...not figuratively. Literally. We are clumsy and unaware. It's a miracle we have stayed alive as long as we have. 

And then when the sweet doctor came into our hospital room a day after Alaina was born and told us her heart was struggling a little, as was her liver, but he felt as though it was nothing serious, just something to be watched. 

And when Lanie was 10 days old and we brought her to the University of Iowa and she was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis. A month later, Jackson was also diagnosed. Something close to two days later I freaked out and determined that there's no way I could have any more kids and bring them into a world of sickness and disease and we made too many decisions out of fear and uncertainty. 

And then when God held me for a whole year after Lanie was born while I dove quickly and deeply into despair and hopelessness. And even in the midst of that darkness...God's voice and love was real and encompassing. 

And then I remembered the time our sweet family and friends gathered around us in Sumner and fasted and prayed for 40 days. And the miracles God performed over that year. Both kids were taken off their CF meds and vests and put on a trial period to see how they would do on their own. You guys. No lie. That was in November of 2009 and they have NEVER been put back on. God is healer! CF is an incurable disease...except it's not! Because God is who He says He is

And all of the hospital stays and stories that came out of those. Our hospital times aren't remembered as lonely or desperate. Sure. There are peppered sections of frustration and anxiety and sadness. But that's not how they look as a whole. They Are Beautiful. And full of people I love and treasure and of God showing Himself in ways that I didn't understand before. 

And also of the times I felt lost, or alone, or made decisions based solely on emotion or selfishness (and there were plenty of those) and how God loved and protected and comforted and also disciplined. 

Stories are made in our lives everyday. 

But not because of us or who we are or what we try to do, but because of God. All of my stories begin and end with Him and what He's already doing in and around me. 

The truth is that God makes awesome stories and we get to be a part of them. When I try and figure out how my life can be an epic story, I fail. I grumble when I see monotony and feel like I'm missing out on everything that involves action and justice and just pure awesomeness. But when I walk with Him, I get to see my life differently. For the adventure and gift that it is...even if sometimes I have to take the time to sit back and remember.