More than just words



This post is rated PG-13, and also involves some political stuff – so if either of these will upset you, please feel free to skip it. I just felt a strong need to share.

I was 13. It’s one of those life-changing moments when you remember every detail, whether you want to or not. I was wearing my olive green sweater with oversized buttons and a tan skirt. I remember the exact seat I was sitting in. I wonder now if he remembers that he even did this to me. Was it even a big deal to him?

He touched me in a way that made me want to scream and run, but instead it was like I became mute and couldn’t make a single sound. But I was screaming on the inside. I remember begging on the inside for him to stop, please stop! Please someone, see this! Anyone! But no one did. Finally he quit, and we left the room and I didn’t speak of it until decades later.

I won’t lie, in a way I have felt guilty all these years because I didn’t say anything to point it out, to make him stop, to humiliate him and save myself from what happened. I don’t even know how it did happen. What made him think that would be okay? There was nothing I said or did that could have made him think I would be on board with that. Nothing. But he took a chance, and for decades I have suffered significantly from it.

Did he chat it up with other friends? Laugh it off? Feel proud of himself? Was this “locker room talk?”

The last few days, my newsfeed has been filled with Donald Trump and his comments from 2005. Google it (Donald Trump 2005 should get you there) if you have been without the television or internet for the past few days, because I don’t want to repeat them. But I was appalled. I intended to write this blog Sunday  night, but cried myself to sleep instead.

Hearing those words, and reading posts from other women who said they have experienced someone assault them and that the pain that is still with them, brought some serious emotions.

I can tell you that over the last few days whenever I heard, read, or saw a Facebook “like” or “share” by men (or women) who I have respected and trusted that support the idea that those were “only words,” or “locker room talk” and “who hasn’t said something like that or worse?” it physically hurt.

It feels like each of these people I respect were all standing in that room that day when that boy did what he wanted at my expense, cocking their head and telling me “it’s not that big a deal.”

So while I’m not saying this to sway your vote one way or another – your vote is your right – I am saying that what he said is a big deal. And it saddens me and hurts me deeply to hear people say that everyone says these kinds of things and worse (And as a side note, I must remind you that these weren’t words that Trump said in his early twenties, when he was young and naïve and stupid – he was 59 – like your grandfather or your dad).

Please think for just a minute right now about someone treating your wife, your daughter, or your sister the way Trump spoke of “Nancy” that day. Still just words? Still just “locker room talk?”

We are worth more than that.

And this part is for those who feel like it’s okay to accept or overlook words that are said, written, or shared – that it wasn‘t a big deal:

One of the few times I have tried having a yard sale, I remember putting the price on the Home Interior pictures from the ‘80s, and assuming they would sell. But for some reason, the few customers we had weren’t biting. They thought the price was too high. They wanted cheap. They didn’t really care about my things as much as I did, and weren’t willing to invest the way I thought my things deserved.

People will determine your value by the price you put on yourself. If you require respect and cherishing, people will see that you deserve it. And the ones not willing to give it won’t waste your time. But if you “clearance” yourself and show that you will take whatever, that’s what you will get.

I saw this image on my Facebook newsfeed. “If American women are so outraged at Trump’s use of naughty words, who in the hell bought 80 million copies of ‘50 Shades of Grey?’”


I am not proud of this, but I will admit I bought a copy of that book when it came out. It was the choice of a book club I am in, and I excused it by saying it’s only fair. They read my book choices, so I can read theirs too. I deeply regret that $13. The book goes against every bit of how I think a woman should be treated. And yet I was reading it for entertainment. Stupid. And for that I am sorry.

I don’t see how I can say I want to be respected and valued and treasured and then tell society what I want is a purely physical relationship, and I want to be looked at as a sexual object.

We are sending mixed messages. We say we want respect and then we say we think it’s fun to imagine someone desiring us solely for our bodies and what we can do for them, whether we want to or not.

Do we really think being treated like the girl in 50 Shades is what we long for? Do we really want to value our men in a purely sexualized way, dancing on stage like in “Magic Mike?” (didn’t see that one – but it is just as unfair for women to devalue men. If we women don’t want it said about us, don’t say it about them. Please.) Are we okay with being portrayed strategically/barely-covered with another strategically/barely-covered woman trying to sell cheeseburgers or underwear? I’m saying that it is time we see our value and refuse to accept anything less than that.

Dear sister, you are worth it.

And if you don’t think anyone will ever value you for more, please know that you are wrong. I am certain people will, and more importantly, God does.

“Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you…” Isaiah 43:4a (ESV)

You are precious in God’s eyes, and honored, and loved. You are worth so much. Please don’t sell yourself short.

And don’t let anyone who tries to devalue you, and what you are worth, get away with it. And certainly don’t make excuses for them.




A God who gives you flowers


Yesterday I was feeling a little overwhelmed about something and was trying not to let tears come. I went on the Wal-Mart to do my weekly shopping, and while I was passing through the produce, I stopped to look at the flowers. So pretty, and pretty cheap, and I almost  picked them up, but decided against it. It wasn’t necessary, there were other expenses this week, and I hadn’t finished the shopping yet. 

So I went on to FoodFair and then Kroger, where I was picking up a few balloons to make the house a little more festive for Noah’s birthday. 
The florist talked quite a bit while she was filling these things with helium- we chatted about Easter, about the weather, about her job, and flowers. 
After she finished with the balloons, she looked at me and handed me two beautiful bouquets of flowers, and said, “These are for you.”
It made my day. 
I am so thankful for a God who cares enough to give his girl some flowers, and for a florist who cared enough to play a part in it. ❤️ 



He gives us what we need



On this evening, Jesus had just finished his last meal with his friends closest to Him – the ones who said yes and followed, the ones who watched Him, failed Him, and loved Him.


They all went to the Mount of Olives, and Jesus went to pray. And not just any prayer, but some emotion-filled words to his Father. He had shared with his disciples that his soul was overwhelmed with sorrow, and now He was coming to the only One who could bring peace in the middle of the impending storm.


He asked God if there might be some other way. Some other way to save us all, other than his beating, his suffering, his death? Any other way?


Though nothing I’ve been through can compare with what Jesus went through, I will admit that there have been things God has wanted me to do – things I did not feel strong enough for – and in that moment, I wanted another way out. Something, anything.




“Yet not as I will, but as you will.”


In spite of the pain, ridicule, torture- He is on board. He isn’t backing out, though He could have. He loved us that much.


And if you are feeling there is something God is calling you to do, or something you are going through right now that just seems too much, run to the One who will provide you with what you need.


Jesus did.


And God gave Him what He needed.


“An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him.” -Luke 22:43


We were never meant to go through anything alone. God is there, providing. Don’t miss out on that. He is faithful, giving us strength when we are weakest.


Jesus got up from that prayer, and went on to do what He came here for. Thank You, Jesus, for your sacrifice, and thank You Father for your faithfulness.


“And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:19





What I learned from Ash Wednesday


Ash-Wednesday-crossLast week I attended my first Ash Wednesday service. Growing up in a protestant church all my life, I am not in the loop on many liturgical practices, but over the last few years I have had friends who participate in the Lenten season. Their experiences made me interested and curious, and one year Noah and I actually did practice “giving up” something during this time. But the Ash Wednesday service was still foreign to me.

I remember another friend of mine mentioning she wanted to go to one this year, and so I messaged her and found out the time and place, and gave it a go. It was beautiful.

A bunch of protestant churches in our community combined to have a service at lunch time. The church was one of the older, formal-looking churches on one of the main avenues in our city. I found my way inside, just in time, and got comfortable, right before I began to get uncomfortable.

But it wasn’t the ashes, or the local reporter snapping pictures, that had me unnerved. The service was lovely, with singing, and very clear instructions on when people would be standing, what they would be saying, and the words to the songs. A local minister spoke about  how the ashes remind us of our mortality, and of the cross, and the salvation offered to us. She said it reminds us of our anticipation of returning to dust, when we will be with Christ forever. It was precisely what I needed.

During the service however, there were passages of scripture read. And sometimes when I hear scripture read by someone else, it just comes at me in a new and different way. That’s what got me.

The scripture was from Isaiah 53:1-12 and 1 Peter 1:3-9. The scripture from Peter read, in part,

“In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith – of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire – may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.”

Greatly rejoicing, even when suffering all kinds of trials? And there is a reason for these trials?

It is so hard for me to see the good in trials. 2015 was a kind of a tough year, and I anticipated 2016, excited to see what it would hold. We are on the upswing. But truthfully, it doesn’t feel like the upswing.

Many people around me are hurting deeply – some physically, some in all other sorts of ways. And my heart hurts as well – sometimes due to empathy and compassion, other times for selfish reasons.

I don’t want to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. I don’t want to go through a refining fire, and I don’t want that for my people. I like comfort, and I will work hard to avoid anything that takes that away. If I must go through something that I know will feel a little prickly, I dread it for days in advance. And during the reading of this Scripture, here is what I came to realize:

I have worshipped comfort instead of the Comforter.

After some tears and some soul-searching, I realized the root of my problem is putting too much stock in this life. Even in the scripture we just read, it says, “though now for a little while.” This life is so teeny-tiny compared to eternity; yet I find myself repeatedly looking at situations through eyes that only see the here and now. If I could learn to look at each circumstance in relation to forever, realizing what is happening now is only temporary, only for a little while, I could get my knickers out of a twist.

My comfort is not supposed to be my goal. Serving, loving, giving, caring – all the things that focus on others – my heart knows these are the most important. Sharing God with the hurting around me. But it is so easy for me to forget that, and focus on myself way too much.

For when we are sinking under the weight of the struggle, here a few tips that might help us:

1. When going through a hard time, accept the help and prayers that are offered. Sometimes it’s tempting to withdraw from people when difficult times happen, but don’t. God gave us the beautiful gift of community. If you have friends who will pray for you, or listen to you as you sort things out, you are blessed. Don’t waste that.

2. Look for the bigger picture – Is there some way this situation can point someone to Jesus? If so, it is worth it.

3. When I’m facing a tough situation, I need to look for the best way to let God work and be seen. If it’s through worshipping Him even in the dark and scary, then I will do it. If it is keeping an eye out for a lesson to learn and ways to grow my faith, then that’s what I need to do.

In Scripture, the apostle Paul, who suffered way more than I ever have, had this take on suffering:
“Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Good things can come from tough situations. Let’s look for them.


Bean Boozled and our words



Noisy holidays are my favorite. When houses are full of people chatting, laughing – that’s the best. While ours wasn’t, we invaded one that was this weekend. Our friends had relatives in town, and invited us to come over for dinner and we joined them. Then we came back later. And again after that. And I think there was one more time. They couldn’t get rid of us. Food, conversation, game-playing. So much fun! Pie Face was happening, but I couldn’t bring myself to participate. I had just washed my hair, and while it probably would have been safe, I wimped out. The next game was Jelly Belly Bean Boozled.

I thought, “How bad can it be?” You give the spinner a spin, and then find out what color of a bean you have to eat. The tricky part is that each visually-similar bean is one of two flavors. For example –

Is it the flavor of pear, or the flavor of boogers? The flavor of buttered popcorn or a rotten egg? You don’t know until you bite into it.

However, my sister Monica affectionately says I am a rainbow-farter and that only good things happen to me, so I thought my chances were probably pretty good.

I was wrong.

I spun the spinner, and the arrow pointed to what might be a chocolate pudding jelly bean. Or…

A jelly bean the flavor of canned dog food.

I stuck that thing in my mouth, and the first hint of a taste appeared. I was hoping I was just imagining it. But no such luck. It was dog food alright.

And it got stuck in one of my teeth, lingering all over my taste buds much, much longer than I had hoped.

And lucky for my friends, the scent was wafting around the room, like a stinky, dark cloud.

After all the chewing and swallowing of that one bean, then picking it out of my teeth and more swallowing, a friend rushed over with a cup of water. The only problem is, water doesn’t really mask a taste, but just shoves it down for a minute. But that dog food taste was a fighter, and kept wafting its way back up. After two glasses of water, and two peppermints, a cinnamon roll and two cups of Pepsi, I thought the taste might be gone. No luck there either.

It settled enough to play a few rounds of Uno, then, against my better judgment, we sat down for a Tim Hawkins video. As it got started, the taste was valiantly making it’s way back up my throat, like a warrior unwilling to surrender.

A fog of flavor was coming back up in bursts, and the dog food wasn’t diminished. As I was recognizing it, my stomach was turning. I wasn’t sure if it was going to be a northern or southern battle, but I was certain it going to happen. I tried to remain calm through Tim’s bit about Christian Cuss Words, and through his Athiest Church Songs, and then the rumbling of my digestion continued during his ballad of “Muffintop.”

I wasn’t sure I would make it home. We held out until after the DVD was finished, but I rushed home immediately afterward, got a cup of orange juice and curled up in my bed, hoping I could sleep it off. After just a few times of waking during the night with the turning stomach, I woke up Sunday morning feeling a billion times better. But even now, the thought of it turns my stomach (Similar to the effect mentioning “White Castle” has on me…*cue stomach rumblings*)

But it did teach me a lesson. A couple of them really.

#1 – Don’t eat things that could be grody.

#2 – Something seemingly small can have a much bigger impact than you know.

I had no idea that a tiny jelly bean could fill the room with it’s stinkiness, nor that it could leave me feeling sick for hours. But it did. It got me to thinking about how other seemingly small things can have huge impacts.

Our words.

I have had people say things to me that I am sure were not meant to be a big thing, but the words stung and stayed with me far longer than I could have expected. Eating at me, and adding to my insecurities. And, on the flip side, I have probably said things that I didn’t think twice about, but probably caused some pain to the listener. Words that, had I known their impact, I never would have said. Neither is okay.

Our words matter.

Not everything that goes through my mind needs to be said, and that is something I sure need to remember and work on.

Our words have power. I think those monks have it right with their times of silence, every now and then anyway. I’m pretty sure I could benefit from this.

In the same way though, our words can have power for good. We have the power to brighten someone’s day, and to give them hope. I have sweet friends who are great at encouragement, and their words mean more to me than they will ever know.

If we learned something from a sermon preached, a lesson taught, or a song sung, we should let the person know. If we appreciate some help that might otherwise go unnoticed, we should let the person know we are grateful. If a meal was enjoyable, thank the cook. Thank your husband for filling up the car with gas so you didn’t have to get out in the cold early in the morning. Thank your wife for making the dessert you like. Thank your kid for helping unload the groceries. There are a million ways to speak good words. Look for those opportunities. I will join you. You have no idea the blessing you might be to someone today.

“The tongue has the power of life and death…” Proverbs 18:21a

Remaining Hopeful in the Waiting



“If we are faithless, he remains faithful— for he cannot deny himself.”
II Timothy 2:13

This has been a weird year. Last year about this time, Shawn made a New Year resolution to play more basketball. He loves it and it gives him some exercise in the process, so it’s a win-win. But the first game he played in January resulted in knee surgery, a new-used ACL and a meniscus repair, followed by 3 months of physical therapy. (His resolution the year before was not to wear pants… Neither lasted very long).

The year trudged on, with me going back to work some, difficult times at church that have brought me to a time of what feels like grieving, and a writer’s block that would leave me sitting at my computer with no words to spill out on my screen.

I’ve stared at the blank page far too many times to count. There was nothing to say that could benefit anyone who might read it. I prayed for words, but felt nothing.

I am not a patient person, and it’s hard for me not to get answers right away (and, by the way, they need to be the answers I want). And while it hasn’t been a terrible year at all (many good things have happened – Noah likes high school, I like my job, our family got away for a weekend trip to Tennessee, and God has faithfully provided), it has felt like a year of chipping.

A bit of chipping away at our self-sufficiency, when so many friends and family have given and blessed us in ways we never would have asked. A bit of chipping away at my selfishness of my time, time I was wasting and didn’t realize it until I had to fill those hours up with working. Some chipping away at my comfort, seeing that new or different isn’t always worse, even if it hurts a little.

And I’m learning some patience. If God has words for me to write, first I must spend more time with Him to hear what that is. If He wants me to wait on His words, and not just fill up a screen because I need another blog that week, that’s okay too.

But the waiting is hard.

I was reading in Luke this week, and in chapter one, Zechariah gets big news. He is old, and so is his wife. While we don’t know exactly how old, “well along in years” doesn’t sound like something you would say to a 40-year-old. But Zechariah gets a visit from Gabriel, telling him, “Your prayer has been heard.” He and Elizabeth are gonna have a baby! And not only that, but a baby who will do great things for God’s people, and who will be filled with the Holy Spirit, even from birth. Now that’s an answer to prayer.

But it made me wonder, how long did Zechariah pray for this? How long did he go month after month, waiting to see God bless them with a child, only to find out that again, it hasn’t happened? Did his prayers lose their punch, as months and then years start to add up, without seeing any result?

Did daily prayers to God turn into weekly, then monthly, then an occasional, “Please God,” when he saw another new baby in the neighborhood? Until at some point, he just resolved that it was too late.

In verse 18, he questions Gabriel, saying, “How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.” That didn’t sound like a guy who had just faithfully prayed that morning for a bouncing baby boy. And Gabriel responded with a bit of a punishment – he will be silent for the remainder of the pregnancy, “because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their proper time.”

God’s proper time is rarely what we want and hope for it to be. We are really like toddlers, wanting it now, sometimes throwing in a tantrum to show we mean it (just me?). But God is a good Father, and He knows far better than we do what we need, and when we need it. He knew Zechariah’s baby was going to be special. John would bring many people of Israel back to their God. He paved the path for the ministry of Jesus, then was blessed to baptize Him himself. God knew when this needed to happen. He knows best. He always does.

Don’t lose hope. Our prayers aren’t always answered in the way that we want, nor in the time frame we want, and sometimes it seems like they haven’t been answered at all. But we can trust our Father.

Remind yourself of God’s faithfulness in the past, and His faithfulness to others around you. He is a good Father.

Don’t lose hope in the waiting. There is always hope.




Counting the cost, with Dave and Jesus

Counting the cost, with Dave and Jesus

daveI am not the money person/bill payer in our family. We figured out that Shawn is the more “responsible” one in our marriage. I have said many times, “Just because it says ‘due date,’ it doesn’t really mean it has to be paid by then.” Clearly I had to step back and let Shawn take over, and all the utility companies are thankful that I did.

And while he does a great job, we still thought we had some stuff to learn regarding savings, so when Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace class was offered at our church on a night when we didn’t have other obligations, we said, “Why not?”

Dave is all for people having control over their dollars. One of his quotes is, “You’ve got to tell your money what to do, or it will leave.” He thinks every dollar that comes in needs to be assigned a place to go. It’s not something I have completely wrapped my brain around, but it sounds wise. If you have a savings or a stash of money that isn’t designated for bills, it is tempting to splurge and buy a Christmas necklace you don’t need because it feels like free cash. But if that stash has already been marked for a savings plan for the new washing machgallery_hero_555d1340-ad0e-4208-becb-cd370da7eea9ine you know you are going to need soon, you would have to think a little harder about whether or not you should spend the money.

*But if you decide to buy the Christmas necklace, you can find a super cute one here

Without thinking and planning in advance, it is easy not to pay attention to what something will really cost you.

In our neighborhood Bible study, we just finished up the study of Daniel, through Beth Moore’s series. We learned as early as Daniel chapter 1 that Daniel had resolved to live his life in a way that pleased God. He and his three friends made the decision early on to make choices that lined up with what God wanted for their lives. And when faced with a flaming furnace or a lion’s den, it was already determined that what those unbelievably tough scenarios would cost them, including their lives, couldn’t compare with what losing their devotion to God would cost them.

They counted the costs early on, and resolved to remain faithful to their God.

Jesus told his crowds of people following him the importance of counting the cost in the last ten verses of Luke chapter 14. Until recently, when I read this, I thought how silly it seems to first count the cost of following Jesus. Why count it? Shouldn’t we just say, “I’ll follow Christ no matter what”? But until that’s thought out, those are really just empty words.

If I’m committed to follow Christ while things are easy, saying I’ll follow Christ isn’t a tough one. But when things are harder and it starts costing me more, deciding moment-by-moment whether it is worth it can leave me teeter-tottering, not fully committed.

Is it worth it if God asks me to give up more of my time to serve someone else?
Is it worth it if God asks me to give up money to people whether or not I think they deserve it?
Is it worth it if people think I’m “too religious?”
Is it worth it if God asks me to move to somewhere without a Wal-Mart to tell others about Him?
Is it worth it if someday I have to go against a law to worship God?
Is it worth it if someday it could cost me my life?

Deciding early on that I am committed to God, resolving that in my heart, I can face a situation, even a scary one, with boldness and courage because I already know it will be worth it. No “easy way out” of a pit of lions could compare with losing out on an eternity with God.

Sometimes people (my past-self included) think that God really just wants us to be happy, whatever that takes. That this is what life is about. But that’s not why we are here. Our lives really aren’t about us. And our lives aren’t always going to be easy.

Jesus himself said we are to carry our crosses and follow him. That in no way implies easy. So is it worth it?

Take a few minutes and picture the scenarios that you fear most. Things that might make you question, “Would it be worth it?” And then compare that with the first time you get to see Jesus face-to-face. When you will spend days that never end with no more sickness, no pain, no tears. No more death. When He says to you, “Well done. Come on in!”

Count the cost and see if it’s worth it, and then let’s resolve like Daniel to stand firm no matter what.

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Revelation 21:4