it's not about doing more

I've lived most of my life by shoulds. Growing up, I was the all-American good girl. I did well in school. I went on mission trips. I moved to Africa when I was 19 to serve as a missionary. I did everything "right". By the book. The way I was supposed to, expected to, told to. The way I should. But the treadmill of striving is exhausting. If only I could do more... If only I could do better... Yet for every should I managed to check off, more got added to the list. It was a vicious cycle of defeat.

In my painful journey of the past few years, I realized how badly I needed to stop should-ing on myself. And I discovered how challenging it can be to get off that treadmill.

One of the ways I've found some freedom from the should shackles has been by ditching New Year's Resolutions. I used to make a long list of goals I'd like to achieve in the new year, but never managed to live up to them (or, at times, even remember what they were).

It only left me feeling like a failure.

So I began choosing just One Word as I step into a new year. One word that sums up who I want to be, or a character trait I want to develop, or an attribute I want to intentionally add to my life.

And since it's just one word, it's easy to remember. I place reminders of it around my home and workspace, and I inevitably start seeing and hearing it everywhere, which helps me stay mindful of it.

One year, I committed to risk more—it forced me to step out of my comfort zone and do things I wouldn't ordinarily do. Another year, my word was look—it gave me eyes to see God's divine fingerprints even in the darkest of moments. This past year, my word was choose—a daily reminder that while I can't control what happens to me, I can always choose my response.

My One Word isn't another to-do list. It's simply a guide as I make decisions, set plans, and go about my every day.

And I've seen these words shape not only my year, but also myself. They've challenged me, inspired me, changed me. Such is the power of intentionality.

I've chosen enough as my One Word for 2013, and with equal parts trepidation and curiosity, I am anxious to see how it will grow me this coming year.

Will you join me in choosing One Word for the year? It's not about doing more, but about being who you were created to be.

Maybe a word popped right into your head. Maybe you need to let the idea percolate a bit longer. Either way, more often than not, your word finds you.

You’ll probably have a love/hate relationship with it. That’s okay. If it doesn’t scare you at least a little bit, it’s probably not the right word.

So… Together, let's stop should-ing on ourselves.

What do you want to focus on in 2013? Who do you want to be by the end of the year?

Once you've landed on your word, write a blog post about it. Then add it to the community link-up on the One Word 365 site.

Originally posted on SheLovesMagazine. Read the comments there >

resolution revolution

I don’t know about you, but New Year’s Resolutions always used to leave me feeling like a big fat failure. Six weeks into the new year, inevitably I’d barely be able to recall what was on my lofty list of goals... which meant I’d obviously not been doing much to work on them.

I’d beat myself up over it, and try harder. But in an oddly contradictory kind of way, making a list of resolutions paralyzed me from achieving them. It was a mental roadblock I just couldn’t seem to conquer. So I scrapped the idea altogether.

And in my own personal resolution revolution, I started choosing just One Word to focus on all year. 

Just One Word, because that’s easy to remember all year long. I place visible reminders of it around my home and workspace, keeping my word ever before me.

It’s become a spiritual discipline of sorts.

Each year, my One Word stands as a touchstone: a reminder not of what I need to do, but of who I want to be.

It becomes the filter through which I make decisions; the home-base to which I return when I’m unsure which way to go. It forces clarity and helps me concentrate my efforts, energy, and time on intentional growth.

It’s a simple concept, but not an easy one. My One Word has always been a challenge more than a comfort. It’s like a pebble in my shoe—an unavoidable nuisance, a constant nudge, a discomfort that causes me to walk differently.

I always have a love/hate relationship with my One Word—and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I figure if it doesn’t scare me at least a little, it’s probably not the right word.

Many of the Deeper Story writers have embraced the One Word practice as well, and found it equally life-changing:

Sarah Bessey: "As the year unfolded, I began to realise that my little nudge to choose Fearless was more of a gigantic shove off a cliff by the Holy Spirit, a sort of dinner bell clanging “COME AND GET IT!” for almost every fear and insecurity I’ve petted, hidden, and indulged in my life. I don’t think I’m fearless now. Not by a long shot. I am braver. I am practicing fearlessness, over and over, with the hope it takes deep hold in my life. I want to carry this word with me, for the rest of my life, every day. This has profoundly changed me."

Kelley Nikondeha: "My word for 2012 was Covenant. The word unfolded as commitment, life-long fidelity and tethering to traditions that anchor and nourish me. I found covenant touched my connection to God, to my spouse and even my children—how do I lean into fidelity toward them daily? One Word allows me to focus, the word works on me and in me mysteriously. But, as a cognitive girl, I also allow the definition of the word to flower and unfold over the year so that the meaning is richer now than before."

Elora Ramirez: "Two years ago, my word for the year collided with my heart. As I glanced around at the shattered pieces around me, I wondered how in the world God would bring jubilee to such a place as this :: a broken hope, wounded and wanting. And this past year? He wanted me to abide. For a girl who runs – for a heart that hides – this proved excruciating. I will not lie :: these past two years have been hard. But what’s left is beautiful – a deeper understanding of His love, a freedom to live in His light and a readiness to breathe deep and jump."

Will you join us in our resolution revolution?

Quiet your heart and see what word rises to the surface. Who do you want to be? What character trait do you want to intentionally develop? How do you want to live your life?

Let’s focus this year not on doing more, but on being who we were created to be. 

Once you've landed on your word, write a blog post about it, and post it on January 4th to join in our synchroblog. Then add it to the community link-up on the One Word 365 site.

{photo credit}

Originally posted on A Deeper Story. Read the comments there >

Emmanuel: God with us (DS)

"Give us an advent spirit," he whispered as he ended his prayer for our meal. And as we picked up forks and drinks and napkins, that phrase kept bumping around inside me. And it bumps still. I don't feel expectant or joyfully waiting, and so I'm struck by those words. Give me an advent spirit.

The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas have always been my favorite time of year. No matter which side of the ocean I was celebrating on, I waited expectantly all year for the sights, sounds, and smells of this beautiful season.

But that was before the darkness creeped in, marring my whole world and tainting even the holidays I loved. Now this time of year feels like labored breathing. It's exhausting. Hard. Like I'm just waiting for it to end instead of wishing it would linger a while longer like I once did.

This year, I've been intentional to remember my power to choose. And right now more than ever I'm forced to remember that joy really is my choice. No matter the circumstance or the feeling. And while the holidays aren't as sweet or as magical as they once were, I can still choose to find joy within them.

There's a reason we sing, "O tidings of comfort and joy." Somehow, the two hold hands.

And so I put lights on the wooden giraffe by my front door. I placed a nativity on my mantle. I strung lights into wine bottles strewn about my apartment. I stare often at my star-topped tree that stands as a beacon of light, pushing back the darkness. Comfort and joy.

In the words of Elisabeth Elliot—"Joy is not the absence of suffering, but the presence of God."

And what better time than right now to take comfort in that. To allow my heart to breathe, to hope, to anticipate. Because no matter what, God's presence abides...

Emmanuel. God with us.

And because He is here, I can choose joy.

For those, like me, who find the holidays uniquely heartsore, will you join me in choosing to discover joy and comfort in the presence of God, made visible in a manger filled with hay? Let's "lift our eyes", being purposeful to not only seek but also to be comfort and joy.

And for those who love this season, will you be intentional to remember that it is bittersweet for many? Open your eyes and hearts to see the heartsore among you. Extend invitations. Hug tightly. Through you, others can be reminded that God sees and knows and cares.

God is with us.

Comfort and joy, friends...

Originally posted on A Deeper Story. Read the comments there >

emmanuel: god with us

"Give us an advent spirit," he whispered as he ended his prayer for our meal. And as we picked up forks and drinks and napkins, that phrase kept bumping around inside me. And it bumps still. I don't feel expectant or joyfully waiting, and so I'm struck by those words. Give me an advent spirit.

...

Join me on the comfy couch that is A Deeper Story to read the rest of my post...

shifting sand

I've been thinking about riverbeds lately.

And how, over a span of time, the rushing water cuts itself a unique course. In flood seasons, the water may overflow the banks, and once the flood recedes, the river's path is likely different than it was before. Maybe slightly. Maybe drastically. But even one rock overturned makes the river flow differently.

...

I've been thinking about suffering lately too.

And how it carves and scrapes and plows through the riverbed of our lives, ultimately changing our course and our current. The changes—sometimes slight, sometimes drastic—lie far below the surface of what others can see, leaving us more different inside than our exterior lives will ever show.

...

The entire path of our lives is transformed by the ever-changing current of our experiences. No matter how hard we may fight it, we are changed by what happens to us. But as Maya Angelou so beautifully said, we can "refuse to be reduced by it." And we can refuse to be defined by it.

...

Dry riverbeds don't change. It's only the violent, rushing water that has the power to shift and shape an entire river. I cling to that visual reminder that the pain, heartache, and discomfort stand as proof of life.

...

What I've learned from the shifting sand of my own riverbed is this: Embrace the shaping. Don't fight the current. Give yourself grace for the new normal.

And trust that the divine finger isn't finished carving the course yet.

{photo credit}