bittersweet

When people hear I got divorced after 10 years of marriage, the question is inevitable. "Do you have kids?" I usually purse my lips together and shake my head while I answer. "No... No kids."

And then I hold my breath.

Because nine times out of ten, the response is the same. And I catch myself bracing for it.

"That's good."

I keep my lips pressed tightly together, and slowly nod obligatorily.

I understand what they're saying. With as much as my life fell apart when my husband decided to leave with another woman, I am grateful there weren't children's hearts also so deeply wounded. So yes. That part is good.

But what most people don't realize is there is such a bittersweetness there.

I don't not have kids because I didn't want them.

I longed to have children, and we were finally at a place of attaining certain goals that would allow me to step back from working full-time so we could start a family. And the irony is that he began pushing for a baby right when he started his affair. And since I knew something was going on—even when I didn't know how bad it really was—I knew adding a baby into the mix wouldn't "fix" anything. So I'm the one who made the decision to wait. Because I needed to be sure we were okay.

And we weren't.

And we never had kids.

So while I'm glad there weren't little people dragged through the devastation of my past few years, and I'm beyond thankful I don't need to figure out an international custody arrangement, there is also a huge sense of loss for what could have been... and for what will never be.

It's an added layer of grief. Of mourning. Of letting go. Of uncertainty about ever having the opportunity again.

So yes. "That's good." But it also sucks.

Just think twice before you make a quick remark to someone. We never know the whole story. We can never comprehend the full situation. Don't presume. Don't preach. Ask.

Ask questions. Hear what the other person is thinking... feeling... saying... not saying...

Don't jump to conclusions.

Just ask.

And love.

Originally posted at Deeper Story. Read the comments there >

disappointed in jesus

I think we all, at some point in our faith journey, grow disappointed in Jesus. Of course we don't call it that.

But if we were being most honest, we would.

Because there are times when He doesn't show up like we expect Him to. He doesn't spare us from what we want Him to. He doesn't do what we think He should.

And ultimately it leaves our hearts disappointed.

John the Baptist found himself there.

And if Jesus' very own cousin—the one who leaped in the womb when unborn-Jesus was nearby and who, upon baptizing Jesus, heard God's own voice declare Him to be His Son—if John felt disappointed in Jesus, it seems fairly safe to assume we all will find ourselves there too.

When John the Baptist was in prison, he sent word from jail to ask Jesus if He was "the One". Now, John had seen and experienced an awful lot that had left him completely convinced that Jesus was in fact "the One". He had lived his whole life built on that premise, doing nothing more than point people towards Christ.

But now he finds himself in prison, where he knows he will likely die. And he's starting to have his doubts. Because this isn't how he anticipated the story unfolding... And he's no longer feeling convinced...

"Are you the one... or should we expect someone else?"

Jesus replied, "Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor."

I hear Him gently reminding John not to forget all he had seen and experienced. That He is still who John knew Him to be. No matter what.

And then Jesus added: "Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of Me.”

He heals the sick. Raises the dead. And breaks chains of captivity. But He wasn't rescuing John from prison. He wasn't going to spare him from being beheaded. He wasn't showing up in the ways that John not only hoped for, but also expected.

What I hear in those words is this:

Blessed are those who still trust Me even when I don't live up to their expectations.

He was acknowledging John's disappointment in Him, and asking him to trust Him still.

When life—and therefore God—doesn't pan out the way you'd hoped, wanted, dreamed, and believed... and you are left feeling disappointed in Jesus (even if you aren't ready to admit that's what you're feeling), you have a decision to make.

What will you do when God doesn't live up to your expectations? Will you still worship? Will you trust Him? Follow Him? Love Him?

I keep hearing His words: "Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of Me." And I feel so challenged.

Will we still trust that God is good even when He disappoints us?

60/366

It's Leap Year. And today, February 29th, feels like a bonus. It's an extra day,  and it's got me thinking about what I want to do with it.

I know every single day is a gift. Even Mondays. I know today is no more special than yesterday or tomorrow. But still it seems to be challenging me a little differently.

It's got me thinking more uniquely about the fact that what I've been given -- these 24 hours, these however-oh-so-many breaths, these moments -- are once in a lifetime.

I want to live today with purpose and intentionality. I want to see what's in front of me, hear what's between the words being said, and live from my heart. I want to give more than I get, focus on others more than myself, and choose the next wise thing.

I want to steward today -- day 60 of 366 -- as best I possibly can. And I want to steward every day that follows just as well...

Leap Year. February 29th. Let's do this thing right...

What will you do with the gift of today?

space for selah

I'm not very good at building margins and space into my life. I never have been. My people-pleasing, perfectionistic, and workaholic ways crowd out any real possibility of healthy margin and breathing room in my life.

When I lack the space to just be, even when my time is filled with everything I love, a crash-and-burn is inevitable.

Been there. Done that. Lived to blog about it.

It takes intentionality to build space into my life. But when I do, my heart is better for it. And so is everything that stems from my heart. My writing, my relationships, my perspective...

A little bit of space goes a long way. Especially when it's a built-in consistent part of my life.

A healthy life rhythm has space built in.

Reminds me of the story of the woman with the issue of blood. I've always loved that passage because it vividly shows me that God is passionate about healing my heart and not just my body. But it also demonstrates a valuable lesson for my heart.

You remember the story, right? The woman pressed through the crowd on her hands and knees, grabbed the hem of Jesus' robe, and was instantly healed.

And the Bible tells us that Jesus felt power go out of Him as soon as she touched Him.

It's unavoidable: Ministry is draining.

If Jesus felt the effects of it, we certainly will.

Serving others, speaking God's truth, and sharing our lives, tires us out. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. We feel it when we spend ourselves for others.

Even when we are doing what we love.

Maybe even more so when we are doing what we love. Because then we have to force ourselves to seek space for our hearts.

Building space into our lives means paying more attention to what and who drains us, as well as what and who refuels us.

When we have space to be and to soak up that which fuels our hearts, then our gifts, passions, and creativities will flourish.

Have you ever noticed the Hebrew word Selah in the book of Psalms? While there's debate over its full meaning, many take it to be a rest. Similar to the rest symbol in sheet music, it signifies the need to pause and soak things in.

Our lives need Selahs written into them.

We need to intentionally create space for Selah in our lives, forcing us to pause, slow down, pull back, and rest. When we do, life is more full. Not just busy, but abundant.

Selah, friends. Selah.

What does space and Selah look like to you? What and who refuels you?

This post was inspired by the Luminous Project. Luminous is an event for creatives on May 9-11, 2012 in Nashville. To find out more, check out LuminousProject.com. You can use the promo code luminousLOVE to get 30% off the ticket price.

on choosing your own adventure

Remember reading Choose Your Own Adventure storybooks when you were a kid? I loved those books. But I cheated.

I'd read ahead and skim the different options to see how they all panned out. And then pick the best one. I wanted the most ideal outcome to every situation — the best story possible.

In some ways, I've tried doing the same exact thing with my life.

When faced with choices, I wish I could peek ahead and see how all the options will turn out. (I'm not talking about moral issues, but things like where I live and what job I take.) I want to make sure I pick the one that is God's perfect will for me. I want to stay in line with exactly what He wants me to do.

But that way of thinking paints a picture of God having one ultimate plan for my life, which includes specific choices in even the smallest of decisions. And while that may sound holy, it leaves me feeling a bit like a puppet. As though if I get one thing wrong in my attempts to navigate His will, the rest of my life is basically a wash.

I'm not sure that's how it works. Maybe God doesn't hold my future in the balance based on where I choose to live. Or what career I step into.

In the midst of navigating the greatest transitions of my life, there is freedom in realizing God isn't controlling me. My prayers don't need to be, "Tell me what to do, God, and I'll do it." I can operate in the gifts, abilities, and common senses He's given me. Maybe He just wants me to discover and embrace who I am and what I would enjoy.

That doesn't mean my decisions are devoid of God. Quite the contrary. It requires an enormous sense of trust in Him as my Shepherd and guide. "Christ in me, the hope of glory..."

So maybe He really is letting me "choose my own adventure", guiding me with the desires, dreams, vision, and wisdom He's placed inside me. And maybe I don't need to strive so hard to peek ahead and confirm the outcome in advance, because no matter what, I remain in His hands.

I am still trying to nail down specific thoughts on all this... I'm in no way implying that we shouldn't pray or seek God's specific guidance. I'm not saying we can do whatever we want because His grace will carry us regardless of our willful choices to sin or disobey or go our own way.

I'm just saying I think there may be more lateral freedom in "God's will for my life" than I've ever before grasped.

What's your take on all this? I'd truly love to hear your thoughts.

Originally posted at Deeper Story. Read the comments there >