Upon thinking of Mother’s Day and all the ways in which we view the sacred gift of parenting, I’ve been thinking of how much my life has changed by being a mom.  It’s been less than 4 years, and even in that short time, the pivotal shift that mothering makes in one’s life is highly altering–to everything else.

There are many, many reasons why I am grateful for my kids–of course.  Their smiles, their wit, their vivacious love of life–even if it just means going to the grocery store or to the bank.  And then there is the gratitude I ensue from the hard lessons they teach me.  You know, all that stuff about myself I didn’t want to look at until I’m faced with it in front of little baby angel eyes? Yes, that stuff. I’m grateful for them showing me that, not even intentionally, but just in the way that they react to life.  But out of all the joys and the hard days, I think what I most appreciate about my kids is that they teach me how to be present–and that teaches me how to be loved. All kids really want is for their parents to be WITH them. Most of the time it doesn’t even matter what we’re doing, just as long as we’re together. And it’s in those small moments of being together that I can appreciate the idiosyncrasies of each of them.  It’s when we slow down that I notice that there is a dimple under Ella’s right eye that shows itself when she smiles (or cries). It’s when we slow down that Lucy comes crawling over to me just to hug my neck.  It’s when we slow down that sibling rivalry also slows down and takes a breath.

It’s in the slow down.

There is peace.  And there is presence.

It seems that in a world of “doing”, everything tries to steal away from this presence. “Make sure the house is spotless, make sure you’re at this activity or that function, make sure the clothes are washed and ironed, make sure dinner is cooked (and always clean-eating), make sure they get time to exercise, make sure YOU get time to exercise, make sure you don’t lose contact with the outside world, make sure you’re following the guidelines in this parenting how-to book, make sure you go on at least one date night a month, make sure–make sure–make sure.”

Oh Lawd.

I’m tired. Leave me alone………

But when I’m present, I’m not so tired.  It doesn’t mean that I still don’t fall hard into my pillow each night–because I sure do. It’s tiring with a baby on your hip, a baby in your belly, and a three year old holding your hand.  And yet, the load is lifted for all of us when we are present.

When I’m not looking over what I “should be doing for them”, I’m enjoying them. When I’m not thinking of the list of other to do’s that so easily stack up, it’s easy to respond favorably to: “Mama do it” and “Can we go outside and play?” and “Let’s go to Target!”

I’ve shared before in a blog about how my pastor talked about a new baby being compared to the presence of God.  It’s one of my favorite metaphors.  When that baby shows up, everything is focused on it. Feed the baby, change the baby, hold the baby when it’s crying. We steward everything around the new life we’ve been given.  And even though we have multiple babies and responsibilities that have to be shared, it is still the same.

So many of the problems in our world revolve around the fact that our families are broken–that we can’t steward what we have (and then we usually just stack more activity on top of it). The statistics of fatherless kids are horrific. The statistics of kids who have dual households is high. Families fight; people don’t talk to one another.  It’s not to say that there aren’t good reasons for separations–because there are. Sometimes separation is the healing agent.  And yet, I wonder how much we could change by just being present.

If we lived in a world that slowed down, that wasn’t quite so “productive”, that wasn’t so ill-equipped with false responsibility, I think we might find more peace. I think if we lived with a messier house during the day, we might make room for more creativity instead of clean kitchen floors. If we expected less from each other and less from ourselves, we just might like one another and ourselves more (yes, I’m actually suggesting to give yourself a break. I’m learning how to give myself one.) If we actually started to invest more in our family time, we might end up with less drama in our lives. And who doesn’t want less drama?

I find this peace in the presence of my family. They are presents to me. They teach me presence. And in presence, love is found. And so is acceptance and joy and laughter.

It might be a treat to be a mom on Mother’s Day. I might get a pedicure or an afternoon to myself, but I find that I can get bored after a few hours away. I long for the presence again.

And that is the real gift of Motherhood.

Happy Mother’s Day, mama’s! May you enjoy not just this weekend but your daily presents as well!

One year. My Lucy turns one today.

I don’t even know how to describe it. I’ve never been in a season of more accelerated inner change as I have in this past year.  Every day has been a new challenge, followed by a new victory only for the next day to be a new challenge and (another failure) then victory.

I have never hiked up and down so many mountains in such a short amount of time. Ever.

And little Lucy spurred that on. I call her my Baby Red, red being my color for grace. And when she was born, some sort of supernatural grace caught me on fire.  It’s not necessarily because of learning to parent two instead one, though that does contribute. It tightens my borders and boundaries for sure.  But more than that, something about her being released from my body released something in me.

And I feel so much different than one year ago. So so much different.

I joked that 2012 was my year of identity crisis. It was part of this fire I was in, and I’m still in a little bit. In this identity crisis, I learned the sacred love of quiet. You don’t get much quiet with two little people under 3 running around, and so my goal was to use the noise of my household to finally lull me to the silence of the inside of myself. It worked, and I have never understood more peace than I have experienced in this past year. And I know there is more peace to come.

This kind of peace that passes understanding. I’m finally feeling that kind of peace deep within my bones, deep within my spirit. I’m learning how to disqualify negative influences; I’m learning how to distance myself from what does not contribute to my inherit peace. Because it is only in peace that I actually live, and it is only in peace that I can actually give.

I’ve found no job that is quite so emotionally and physically taxing as being a mom of littles. It wasn’t until yesterday that I realized that I’ve been either creating or feeding a baby nonstop (or both) for the past four years. And because of that most important responsibility, it has certainly given me an opportunity to find what really makes me tick.  Not what kind of makes me tick but what really makes me tick. I usually get one hour totally by myself a day.  How am I going to spend that? What makes me feel alive? What feeds me? I’ve never had to cut out so much “pork” than I have this year, and I feel about 50 million times lighter.  There was so much that I thought re-energized me that really didn’t (or maybe it did for a season but not anymore), and there were many parts of me that I came face to face with in the quiet.  And in the quiet, I finally asked those parts….”So, what do you REALLY like to do? What do you REALLY even like?”

There are so many people in so many places telling us what to do, what to like, what to be like, how to do life, how not to do life. It’s exhausting. So exhausting that I had to make myself completely quiet in order to even find out what I enjoy. Who am I? Who am I not?  Some things I thought I was, I am not.  And some things I thought I wasn’t, I am.

And in the kindest sort of way, I could care less what anyone else has to say about it.

That’s grace.

An out-of-this-world type of freedom and acceptance of self. Not being forced to like something or to do something because we “should”. In fact, I don’t know that I  like “should” even being in my vocabulary. For me, it doesn’t necessarily conjure up anything pleasant. It negates choice. I think I like the word “could” better than “should”. As in a suggestion.  “Perhaps you “could” do xyz” not “you “should” do xyz.”

(Maybe I’m going overboard?)

But that’s just how I feel at the moment, I suppose. Breaking off all that gunk and all those expectations that have been placed on me and my one life to live. It reminds me of a quote from the movie, Brave.  In it, Merida is explaining what it’s like to have a day for herself; a day where she can be anyone she wants to be.

“But every once and awhile, there’s a day when I don’t have to be a princess.  No lessons, no expectations, a day where anything can happen.  A day I can change my fate.”

So, sweet Lucy, I love you.  Thank you for teaching me how to be brave…….and for teaching me how to fly. Grace grace.

I’ve been praying for the last few years that my left brain would catch up with my right brain.  You may think I am joking or being sarcastic, but I’m being completely serious. I’ve had friends see holistic neurologists who have been able to measure how their brains are working; and it is very common for one side of the brain to be bigger or more used than the other side.  Obviously, this is where we start to stereotype ourselves into “I’m a right brain person, or I’m a left brain person.”

My creative side runs wild. I get ideas, I get visions. I can hardly keep track of them all sometimes.

But the left side? Struggles.

I have hated cooking because I freak out when having to read down a list and follow its directions. Now some may say I’m just being “creatively rebellious” by not complying, but deep down there was something so overwhelming and confusing (and vanilla!) to me about reading a list in order and doing just that. It was like my brain couldn’t compute it.

As I’ve been researching this topic of Hope, I’ve been learning a lot about this left side of my brain. I’m going to give you a disclaimer here: I am no doctor (though I did study medicine for four years–to my credit!). But what I’ve been learning about Hope is healing something in my left brain.

Let me explain.

In my last blog, I mentioned Brene Brown’s book The Gifts of Imperfection. In it, she explained that hope is a learned behavior and that hopelessness causes us to feel powerless. She also mentioned entitlement. Eww, no one wants to talk about how selfish we are…..and yet, we are selfish.  And our selfishness leads to entitlement.  And our entitlement leads to hopelessness…..and powerlessness.

Hopelessness occurs when we don’t know how to deal with disappointment or with frustration. We then (or maybe it’s just me?) run down a complaining path of “Why does everything always have to be so hard?” Whine. Whine. Whine.

I was born in the “get it now” generation.

But even more than that, let’s get back to that left brain. Somehow that left brain of mine, which gives me order and goals and steps, has gotten stumped. The creative runs wild, and the practical is stuck.  This is very common for those who have had brain trauma. And, it doesn’t have to mean a brain “injury” or brain surgery (though it definitely includes it).  I’m talking every day brain trauma. I’m talking your teacher made you feel dumb when you didn’t know the answer to a question, or some kid on the playground called you fat, or a parent released anger onto you, or or or. These are all brain traumas. These traumas, when not released, keep us from Hope.

And when we haven’t learned how to cope and deal with the emotions that have stemmed from trauma, we become underlying angry.  And what do we all know about anger? It usually comes from people in pain. And I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen a lot of people in pain–especially over the last year or so. You know how I know? Because they post mean things on FB, are always critical and hating on some unknown person or people group in cyberspace, or they’re just downright nasty. Honest to God, this is one of the reasons I’m so bipolar about social media. I’m too sensitive to be getting hit with so much slander and malaise every day (even if it isn’t aimed at me). Because just like all those other people, I have pain, too. (Don’t we all?) And I don’t want it triggered all-day-long.

Ok, so back to pain. Unresolved pain. Brain traumas. Hopelessness. (This is a really fun blog, isn’t it?)

What I’m getting to is that left brain. I’ve been blocked…holding onto too many known or unknown, big or little brain traumas. It’s kept my left side a bit weak and shriveled, while my right side keeps getting ideas. At first I got frustrated because I was getting so overwhelmed by not being able to complete what I kept seeing. Frustrated…….hopeless…

And then the light bulb came on. God is so smart; He was highlighting all this on purpose.

It’s time to get un-traumatized. Yes, that’s right. Un-traumatized. If that’s even a word.

Writing my book this past 6 months has been one of the most healing and wonderful things I have ever done for myself. It’s helped grow the left side of my brain because I have fearfully AND courageously stepped out of my comfort zone to actually put my life on paper. Something about it’s practicality has brought me to a place where I am finally understanding Hope.  And not hope in a far off sense, but hope in the present moment.

And now it’s bringing me to a big shift. And in this shift, my left-brain is finally getting some strength because it is actually exercising what the right brain thought up, even THROUGH frustration and THROUGH disappointment and pain.  This is why I’m such a promoter of following our dreams (more on that IN the book!). When we have that spark in our heart to do something, it’s amazing the resolve we have to make it happen. And when we resolve to make it happen, even through discouragement or naysayers or creative blocks, we end up finding pieces of ourselves that were long forgotten. Or traumatized.

And we re-member ourselves again. The real me. The real you.  And there is so much Hope in me and you.

Pretty amazing, isn’t it?

Always getting what we want when we want it doesn’t produce Hope. It produces entitlement. And entitlement ends up making me lack resolve. And without resolve, I end up feeling powerless.  I guess that means that Hope and Resolve are somewhat synonyms. Or even better? Hope and Perseverance.

To persevere is to hope. He is teaching me this (it’s a learned behavior, remember?).

How beautiful.

Joy has tended to be an easy thing for me, innate even.  Even in the midst of situations of seemed despair, I usually can find joy.

Hope, on the other hand, well….

I’ve struggled with hope.

I’ve done that “Well, I don’t want to hope for this or for that, just in case it doesn’t happen.” Or the “I’ve hoped before, and it turned out differently.” Or even the “I hoped for this situation to happen, and it was drastically the opposite of what I wanted.”

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick.” Ugh.

And, so, hope has been confusing for me.  And in times of transition or hardship, hopelessness has seemed somewhat easier.  Easier not to hope than to hope in vain, I suppose.

Until yesterday.

There are a few things we need hope for in our house right now. It’s nothing on a detrimental scale (compared to Boston), and yet I had a time of silence. And in this silence, I simply prayed. “We need a breakthrough, God. Here and here and here. Help us to align with what You want for us, and what we want for us.”

It was simple. There was no extra fluff or formulated begging. It was just that, a prayer that came from silence.

You can even say it was a prayer of response. I believe our best prayers come from listening. We don’t listen until it’s silent.  And in silence, we can hear His still small voice.  In doing that, we can respond to His grace.  I have no good ideas  or good prayers apart from my response to His heart for me.  And in the silence, I can hear His heart.

Upon the girls getting cozy in their beds, I took a few minutes to look over a book that I’ve already read. It’s Brene Brown’s book called “The Gifts of Imperfection”. In it, I kept being attracted to a chapter on “building a resilient spirit”.  These small trials I’m working through, they are building my resilience (and showing me my sometimes lack of patience).  They are also teaching me, yet again, how important rest is.

Anyhow, within the scope of the chapter, there was a section on Hope.  I wasn’t even thinking of Hope, I was thinking of breakthrough….like, “Please God, get me out of this. Clean the wax outta my ears, and let’s get going!”

And, yet, He wants to talk to me about Hope.

Hmmmmmm…..

Brene went on to explain how Hope is not an emotion but a learned behavior.  She spoke on how we teach our children how to hope, not by keeping them from disappointment, but by teaching them hard work and perseverance. She that that in hope, we are to expect to disappointment, and that disappointment is ok. It is part of Hope’s cycle.

I had never thought of it that way before.

She explained that entitlement breeds hopelessless and hopelessness breeds powerlessness.  And what is worse than feeling powerless? Not much. Powerlessness makes us think we are incapable of change, that our situations are incapable of change, that our country is incapable of change, that our world is incapable of change.

I usually see in terms of BIG. And, so, hopelessness can sometimes seem easy. Look at our country. As a whole, it is messed up. Entitlement runs rapid. Shootings, bombings, kids in despair. And, here I go down the hopelessness slippery slope……

But when I looked at Brene’s suggestion to learn Hope, here is what she said:

1. Set goals (what do you want to do? What do you want to change?)

2. Expect disappointments and setbacks (accept them as part of the climb up!).

3. Believe in yourself (You can do this! I can do this!)

In these three small steps, something in my brain aligned. (Thank you for the prayer, God.) Something clicked.  And in what was less than 15 minutes of reading, I realized how to defeat my own sense of powerlessness.

How easy is this? I can learn to hope. Hope is not flighty and fickle, it is learned. He can teach me. How profound.

So, even in the midst of bombs, and shootings….in the midst of lack of sleep, nauseating hormones, and potty training…..I can make Hope practical in my every day life.

I may not be able to solve our world’s problems today, but I can change my day. And in changing my day, I can do my part to change the world…

“As hope deferred makes a heart sick, a desire fulfilled is a Tree of Life.” -Proverbs 13:12

And, well, Eden is my favorite place. The place where this Tree dwells. How beautiful is this? God is so intimately acquainted with me…

Everything, even the horrors of this world, bring us back to His original intent for us.  Nothing is in vain.  No hurt or destruction or evil gets the best of us. He can turn anything around…..always taking us into a deeper place of understanding…

and peace.

I’ve been serious metamorphosis the last 10 months, and I think I’ve got one wing starting to creep out of the cacoon!  As with all life transitions, there are times when I think I may die in the middle of blooming (I can be a little over-dramatic), but at the same time I know the old parts that need to say good-bye are withering away, and the new parts just about to burst with new life needed that extra space to camp in.

Lent felt extremely long this year as I battled nausea and fatigue while chasing around two kids under the age of three, completing the finishing touches of the written portion of my book, and hiding inside from the rainy, dreary weather that is colder than usual (with Spring only giving us a tease with no real staying power).  But as it always does, Easter showed up.

And so did some Fresh Winds.

We got to see our new babe on an ultrasound yesterday, and the flicker of a heart on a screen never ceases to amaze me. The love of God creates a human being…..surreal.  Just as in His resurrection at Easter, He faithfully blooms new life all around us–in forthcoming flowers and trees, spring buds, new babies, and all different forms of creativity.

I don’t know that I’ve given myself as much intentional time to create with Him as I have in the last 10 months, and I will always look back on this pressing, intense, and life-changing period of time with such adoration, and peace, and Presence.  It is in the secret place that we are transformed from seed into promise, just as in the womb we are transformed from a few cells into a thriving human being. It is sacred and beyond value.

And so, with that, as one wing is creeping out of my cacoon, I’m looking forward to seeing the outside world again while also hanging closely inside as the last wing makes its way out!  Now that I’m finished with the writing portion of my book, I’ll be back to blogging regularly again.  I can’t usually go more than a few days without expressing all the things going on this busy head of mine………..

Thanks for journeying with me–looking forward to hearing from you all again, too!

I’m pretty sure that every time I go through a big transition I think that my current transition is the biggest of my life.  And with each shift, I do think it’s true.  Each transition is of greater magnitude than the last, and as they accumulate through the history of my life, I get to see a glimpse of the bigger picture.

In the midst of transition, sometimes it is hard to see.  I can lose vision. Most of the time it’s easy to focus on the resistance and on the seemingly “no answers”.  I start to calculate all of the ways that I can just push this transition through, as if my will is actually strong enough to break through this wall of layered steps calculated by the very Hand of God.

Sometimes He is gracious enough that He sends me a clue.  I latch on, and I feel a spark.  It’s Hope.

And other times, He is gracious enough to teach me the language of faith.  This faith only becomes tangible as I let go of my need for certainty.  In certainty, I surely become bored.  And life becomes mundane.

Yet in the chaos of a faith-filled life, I somehow stretch through those layered steps and loosen the elasticity of the walls of my cacoon.

There is no formula, and there is no guarantee.  The only way I know is Up and Out.  The only thing I know is that the last layer no longer satisfies my hunger.  It’s season has taken it’s turn.  It no longer works.  And so I wait while I also attempt to move forward in a way in which I do not know.  And in a way in which I do not understand.

I love understanding.

I love knowledge.

I scoop it up whenever possible.  I love filling my mind with the richness of Truth and the discovery of unknown territory.

But when I come upon a season where knowledge can’t seem to be found, I have to learn how to embrace the curve.

I wish I had a practical application of this.

Oh, do I wish I had a practical application of this.

I have no application, and the only illustration I can think of is Elaine on Seinfeld…..

when she’s dancing like a dry heave. Have you ever seen Elaine dance?

(The belly laugh helps.)

And so, in the midst of catching the curve, I let loose a little.  Of course, I can’t let go all the way….  but I let go of the amount I can today.  And tomorrow that amount accumulates with another small seed of faith, and the next day another.

And before I know it, Spring has arrived.  And with it, I see the fruit of what my cold season bore.  When it’s the end of January, all I typically want to do is skip February and get to March.

And yet, God decided to name February the month of Love.  And in it, He also gave me a baby girl (Ella Junebug’s birthday!).  And so as much as I sometimes want to kick the cold weather to the curb, tell the gray skies to find someone else to bother, and try to hurry up the last days of winter in exchange for the fresh days of spring……I remind myself of what comes in the midst of Snow.

Fresh love and fresh life.

And they’ve been brewing for some time now.  Just waiting for their chance to break through the soil and meet sunshine for the first time.

I can hang on for a little while longer–even when I think I can’t.

Patience is a virtue, and sometimes the most growth happens when I’m cold.  Even though I hate to admit it and even though it doesn’t feel like it.

But isn’t that faith?

I’m back to square one, I suppose.

Unanswered questions stretch my heart to be filled with unexpected surprises…….

It’s been awhile since I’ve blogged.  All my writing has been scribbles on notebook paper or keystrokes in Microsoft Word.

I’ve missed you all!

This book has somewhat taken over my life the last few months. It has been unreal–amazing–life-changing.  It’s been brewing in my heart to write it for the last six years (at least consciously), and as I candidly put my pen to paper this past few months, I can’t believe it is actually happening.

I write this particular blog about it because I want you to be INSPIRED.

Only God knows why and how my process has looked the way it has.  The timing of it all and the person that I’ve become up to this point is none other than a Kairos moment.  I’ve shuffled and read through all the journals over my entire life span, chronologically lining them up, highlighting pages and themes……and rants.

And joys.

I’ve organized them into themes. Have you ever looked back on the themes that hover over your life?

Some of them are wonderful themes, and some of them are not so wonderful….yet.

In that matter of a month, I made a conscious to decision to face each of these themes. Good or bad. Ugly or pretty. And in this process, I have written my book.

I’ve blocked out all residual noise in my life.  The sound of His voice in this place is much too sweet for any type of intrusion.  He’s re-walking me through the joy of my very existence in these moments.  Picking up my broken pieces, celebrating days that got neglected, re-piecing my mind back to how He created it.  I have no other rational explanation for this miraculous journey except that after looking over my life, I can understand with a fervent certainty how much He cares for me. How much He cares for us.

My journal from 1989 when I wanted a new pair of boots.  He remembers.
My journal from 2002 when I was desperately realizing that I didn’t want to be a “normal” person with a “normal” job.  He initiated that.
My journal from 2006 when I took the plunge and started to dance again even though I was scared stiff.  He was waiting for that moment.

I say all this to say that I haven’t spent enough time honoring my life and honoring the story He has written of me.  We spend so much time on busyness, and doing, and noise.  We drown out His voice and what He wants to say to us.  I can’t believe how long I’ve lived with so much noise in my head.  Noise is so distracting.  It wasn’t until this process of practicing simplicity, living in silence, and listening to my own self that I could finally hear Him like never before.

He’s wooed me with my book.  He loves that I love to write.  That’s why He’s having me write my story, Our story.  For you, it may be different. Maybe you like to do swim or take pictures or sing. Whatever it is, if you keep having that “thing” tug at you, that “thing” that just won’t go away…or that you “thing” you always talk about doing (but in reality never start because you’re too scared), please take the plunge.

Quiet yourself.
Turn off the noise.
And put it on your 2013 Bucket List!

If you’re terrified to get started or to even speak your desire out loud, then please message me! I love secrets.

But whatever you do, give yourself a Gift, and take the first step. It may start out really tough and awkward and what-the-heck-am-I-doing, but I promise it turns out really, really fruitful and invaluable! Kinda like the Christmas Story………

Speaking of, Merry Christmas! I love you all and am so thankful for your support on my writing journey……you have instilled confidence and courage into me when I’ve needed it most!

Xo–Sarah

(And P.S. If you’re on Instagram, find me! I miss all the pics of your sweet kiddos!)

“All men should strive to learn before they die what they are running from, to, and why.” –James Thurber

I’ve had some time in my basement.  It didn’t take very long before I could find peace in the Silence.

Here’s what I know:  There are a lot of scared people right now. Scared for many reasons. Death, crime, and hatred are all growing at an intensely fast rate.  We just came off of an extremely close and controversial election.  We also battled over chicken a few months ago.  Plus we deal with our kids being bullied in school, with people losing their jobs, and with the fear of nuclear bombs as the Middle East continues to grow even more unsettling.  And just months ago, one of our very own Ambassadors was raped and killed on our country’s property.

This is tense.

We are in turmoil. And I refuse to believe that it has to stay this way.  At the same time, I refuse to participate in a perpetual cycle of arguing and lack of productivity.  Practically speaking, we have choices to make when we feel like we are in a state of doom and gloom.  Situations will never go away and challenges will never stop coming toward us, but we do have a choice in our response.

Somehow, it seems, that in the course of the last several years, the younger generation has become quite political and passionate.  I think this generation desperately wants to make a difference.  I just hope that it’s for the right reasons, and I say that with the utmost respect.

When we use our agenda or our voices to feel powerful in our lives, we have to understand what a risk that is.  If you say something because you’re full of rage or because winning is your goal, I’m going to be bold enough to shoot it straight.  That is not noble behavior.  Nor is it leadership.

If you say something because you are attempting to bring clarity, to mediate, or to share what you ultimately think is best for a situation, then I applaud you.  It’s a tough day in age to say anything these days.  We say we have freedom of speech in this country, and yet as soon as we open our mouths to speak, we are subjected to uninitiated attack–no matter how pure or unbiased our motive.

The importance of saying what we need to say never should be dulled down though.  It should also never be mocked.  This is America. Do we not understand what a privilege it is to have an opinion?  And do we not understand the lives that were sacrificed in order for us to be free?  Let’s act like adults and steward the gifts we’ve been given well.  We don’t receive gifts like freedom in order to use them against our own brother.  That is beyond insecure and selfish.

If we want to start moving forward, then we need to start by acknowledging the importance and value of each person in this country.  If we don’t value one another, what is the point? Who cares if states want to leave? Let’s just call it a day and separate. Who cares if our Ambassador is raped? He’s just overseas getting paid too much anyway.  Who cares if our tremendous debt is passed onto our kids? They’ll figure it out.

This is how we’re acting.

And it is more terrifying than anything to me. It makes us a target for ruin.

But even though the situation is terrifying, I’m not backing down. I have a voice, and I will use it. My ancestors with were both Native Americans and Settlers. This is my country. I will not cowtow to unrighteousness behavior, or intimidation, or big government.  This is my stance.

If Jesus lives in me, then so do all of His attributes.  Wonderful. Counselor. Prince of Peace. Everlasting Father. King of Kings. Ruler of Everything.

These characteristics do not succumb to sarcasm, manipulation, fear, control, passive aggressive behavior, or anything like it.

Goodness reigns over insecurity any day.

I can speak my opinion in love and with respect to anyone who disagrees.  I am not in the business of demeaning anyone.  I am for the prosperity of EVERYONE regardless of age, gender, sexual orientation, or religion. I will not, however, tolerate being mocked or degraded.  Especially on my own turf.

An Ambassador was raped and killed on his own soil. This is a travesty, and this is also a picture.

This is what we are doing to one another every single day when we hate and when we berate each other. How dare we.

It’s time for us to grow up. Crisis is looming, and we need people in their big boy pants–not in diapers.

I honor our president.  I pray for him regularly.  I pray for his safety and for the Goodness of God to lovingly bless his life. So, even though I disagree with his policies, I have nothing but respect for who he has been created to be. And if I can stand here and say that with the purest of motives, then I know that my Life will prosper with peace in the midst of devastation or in the heights of success. I’m just hoping that others want the same, too.

I won’t live by this world’s way of doing things.

I’d rather be part of creating what we were designed for—life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

If the 2012 election showed me anything, it showed me this.  We are in a people in great pain.

Yes, pain.

Our unresolved issues of yester year are being thrust to the front in some sort of unproductive grasp to feel powerful and to take our voices back.  When I see posts where people are be-rating one another, I get sick to my stomach. When I see people take jabs or power plays with others, I get so sad.

We have no have idea how to communicate.

We have no idea how use our voices effectively. We have no idea who we are.

Please don’t take this the wrong way because I absolutely love freedom of speech.  I love when people are passionate about what they believe.  I love when people express why they think what they think.  I even love when people who disagree with me post their opinions–as long as it’s in a tasteful manner.  And, in addition, I love when people I agree with post their opinions–as long as it’s in a tasteful manner.

We all have room to have a voice.  This is America, God Bless it.

Our propensity toward Civil War, though, is creeping its way into reality as we fight over our own pain.  Social media has created fake armies with unexperienced generals spouting off orders in cyberspace. A true leader can express his/her opinion without demeaning or judging the other side.  A true leader CAN disagree and can express emotion at the same time, but a leader also does this out of a heart of innocence and not out of a heart of revenge.

I’ve watched countless posts go through my status feed where people have shown their insecurity by posting statuses just to get a rise out of someone else.  I’ve also seen posts where people say something controversial just because they think that a firestorm makes them valid somehow.  I’ve seen relationships lost because of pain-inflated loss of character.  This makes me scared for us.

I realize that this topic of “politics” is nothing new (and it’s not just politics, it’s how in we engage in life).  Elections have been going on for hundreds of years now, but I think our unresolved pain has escalated.  In my personal experience, the only time I’ve felt the need to shout at someone is if I feel like I’m not being listened to.  The fact that I am not being listened to hurts my feelings because it seems to say that my voice isn’t valid.  When I let that lie burrow it’s way into my heart, I end up reacting out of it.  I then either stop using my voice all together (because I think no one cares) or I try to get my power back by using my voice loudly, sarcastically, harshly, etc.  Well, then, an election comes up.  Or the issue of abortion comes up.  Or the issue of gay marriage….and low and behold, I have an opinion. And when I’m still believing that burrowed lie, I’m going to use that voice that no one seemed to care about to get my point across.  And while I’m at it, I’m going to put down the people who disagree with me because I’m in so much unresolved pain from my hurt feelings twenty years ago that I need someone else to feel that, too.  Misery loves company. I hurt someone else because I am hurting inside.  It’s a vicious cycle.  It’s the cycle of abuse. Open any psychology book.

Does anyone else see this happening?

This is so ugly.

This is such childish behavior.

We are acting like illegitimate children.

God loves us.  ALL of us. We belong to Him.  Our voices were created out of love, and each of us are valid.  When we stoop to this type of behavior, we desecrate ourselves.  We desecrate our neighbor.

It doesn’t matter at this point whether you are gay or straight, Muslim or Christian, Republican or Democrat; we aren’t going to agree on this right now.  I care most about how we can achieve our best success as a community. Do I have thoughts or opinions? Absolutely.  But my “right” to an opinion is second in line to my hope for restoration.

We have to either learn how to communicate with one another, and by doing so, choose to be on the same team, or we need to prepare for a Civil War. It’s our choice.

We are destroying ourselves. And our kids are watching.

At this point, the only place I can find Hope is in silence.  When all the other voices are wiped away, I can listen for the One Voice who gives Life. And my earnest desire is only to release real Life. I refuse to enter or proliferate the cycle of abuse.

Until that Voice reverberates through my entire being, I’m just going to have to go back into the basement….again.

And that’s that……