Beautiful Sunday

I had the most amazing Sunday.

It was overwhelmingly beautiful.

Our kids both have colds so we skipped church (to avoid infecting everyone else) and I drove out to At One Yoga to take a power class with Brooke.

BEST class. It was long and warm and deep. The room was packed full of people and that always makes for some good energy. In fact, at the end of the class, the instructor commented on the good energy in the room this morning.

I happen to know that that good energy is Jesus. I've heard it in almost every class I've been in. Jesus makes for some uplifting energy. That's for sure. :)

After yoga I sat in my backyard in my bathing suit (in 50 degree weather) and soaked up some vitamin d while reading a book. The kids played and even the dogs made it down the slide a few times.

Judah found his way to a muddy spot in the yard and was covered from head to toe in the good stuff. Such a little man. He was painting the house with mud... until he realized that he was dirty.
Then he sauntered over to me and demanded that he be "clean. water."

After a good scrubbing and a long nap, my kids went on a date with their Poppa (my dad). They played at the mall, ate pretzels, got books at the bookstore and had dinner at The Islands. They came home excited and loved.

Joe and I took the longest walk ever while they were gone, brought home some Indian food, a movie and wine (for me of course) and settled in to the best night in weeks.

The babies came home and we played and wrestled and laughed until we couldn't breathe. Judah was especially funny. He does not kid around when throwing a punch.

At the end of the day I am supremely happy. I am so certain that something holy and satisfying happened today. Connection. Love. Fresh air and open hearts.

It was a beautiful day. I found myself coming back to the Jesus Prayer of the Desert Fathers. I am even thinking of extending the week of meditation out to two weeks...

It's just too good to move on!

Happy Saturday!

It's amazing what a trip to the Farmer's Market can do for my soul.

It is so easy for me to feel alone in certain areas of my life. Most people I know don't eat the way that I do, don't find the same holy satisfaction in clean, fresh, unaltered food.

It really doesn't matter to me how other people eat. Although, I've had my fair share of run in's with people who THINK I care.

I really believe that what, and how, an individual chooses to eat is a very personal decision. Some are called to meat, some aren't. Some are called to dairy, some aren't.

And, yes, I think it is a calling.

As human beings we are so much more than just the spirit of life in us, or just the body that carries us around. We are made in the image of God.

It makes perfect sense to me that that means that we aren't just sloughing around this life without any connection between what is physical and what is spiritual.

It requires a lot of balance to feed both. It requires a certain awareness to not give one more weight that the other.

We feed ourselves spiritually with teachings, worship, prayer, meditation, spiritual practices, community, etc.

We take great care to filter our spiritual food. We don't want anything that would deplete our spiritual energy or drag us into dangerous waters.

So, we should take just as much care as to what we feed ourselves physically. We should approach our food with the same kind of awareness and intent; eating what nourishes us and not what depletes us.

Not that salvation rides on food. But energy does. And health does. And joy certainly does.

Because I've lived most of my life eating whatever was easiest. And I spent most of my life depressed.

I've spent the last two years eating life-sustaining, organic, and nutrient rich foods.

The last two years have been the most energy filled, least depressed years of my life.

So, making a little trip to the Farmer's Market; seeing the stalls overflowing with bright, fresh, local, organic vegetables and fruits made my heart skip a little beat.

Food! Food as it was created to be, without anything else helping it along.

Just the earth, the sun, the rain, the fertilizer.... the perfect combination for LIFE.

I walked away with three bags of veggies and apples, a jar of agave-sweetened jam, and two loaves of fresh bread sweetened with honey.

I am a happy, happy girl.

Sparklers

I am feeling this constant stirring....

Like something is gently tugging on my soul.

My feet keep walking one way; I'm still living my life like I normally do, but something is speaking - pulling my heart somewhere else.

Old and earthy words. Truth radiating from every syllable. Hunger is replacing every one of my senses.

Not a physical hunger, but a deep, soul-throbbing hunger.

And I just want to cry. All the time.

Not because I'm sad. Mostly, I'm not sad.

I just want to cry. I am suddenly so aware of my inner existence. Everything that is spiritual seems to have sparked.

I am surrounded by brilliant, fiery, tiny flames. It's the fourth of July inside of me and the Spirit is waving multi-colored sparklers....

Everything is new.

And I haven't done anything. I've THOUGHT about meditation. I've prayed the Jesus prayer twice. I've been sitting with, combing over, and running my fingers over the old practices of the Desert Fathers. But I haven't done anything.

Songs bring me to tears.

Stories of people being saved, loved and set free send shudders of joy through my soul.

Aaahh.

Jesus is happening. My inner defenses and excuses are crumbling in the sudden and consuming light of day.

And, again, it isn't my work. There is no formula to being good enough, free enough, holy enough.

There is only an inner intention - a decision to be His.

Which means that the act of a spiritual discipline is not exhausting.

It is exhilarating. It is powerful. It is illuminating....

And I am so certain that I am only sitting on the very surface of His depths.

On to a New Space

It's Thursday again.

Thursday means I'm on to another spiritual discipline.

I learned a lot about prayer last week. Mostly I learned how easily I am drawn AWAY from prayer. I experienced something new, fresh and clean in my exploration of true prayer. I swam through new waves and perched on new cliffs.

And what I walked away with is a deep realization that nothing, not even prayer, depends on me one bit. We walk this very fine line of what is OUR work to do and what is GOD'S work to do. We read scriptures that tell us to work out our salvation. We have lists, and entire books of the bible, telling us how to live right. We spend most of our lives trying to sort out the tangled caverns of our souls. We weigh love against truth and salvation against human nature. And what are we left with?

Striving. Pushing. Breathless, hopeless worthlessness.

Because it isn't up to us. It doesn't depend on us.

Because the bible ALSO says that it doesn't depend on our desire or effort.

Because Jesus himself said that everything hinges on love.

And love is a free gift. Not bought. Not earned. Not conjured up.

Free. Complete. Whole.

So, in my weak attempts to truly pray - to glue myself to the Spirit (thanks Cali!) - I've found that I am a total failure.

And if it were about failure or success then I would leave this week feeling hopeless and discouraged. But it has never been about MY work.

Whether or not I get myself up to pray every day will never affect the matter of my salvation.

I have been saved. I have been rescued. I have been set free.

Nothing can ever alter that concrete truth. Nothing can stand in it's way.

Because my salvation came from love.

And everything hinges on love.

Prayer will simply change the way I view my Rescuer.

Prayer determines the softness and stillness of my heart.

Prayer allows me to live out my salvation with joy and laughter.

And true prayer keeps me clear enough, aware enough, to cease my blubbering tendencies to DO rather than BE.

Prayer keeps me focused. But that is not my work. Prayer is HIS work.

He's opened the door and allowed me in. He's invited me to sit comfortably, drink a green smoothie (cause he knows i LOVE them), and uncover life together. He laughs with me. He cries with me. He listens to my small understanding of scripture, people, and my own inner workings. He patiently listens to the long list of things I hate about myself - knowing that my battle is not really about getting out of my mess, but allowing him into it.

After a week of attempting to touch the great mystery of conversation with the Beloved, I'm setting foot on new ground.... well, on very ancient ground.

This week my intention is meditation, silence and solitude.

I'm especially drawn to the meditation used by the Desert Fathers called Hesychasm.

In a nutshell the Hesychastic practice involves acquiring an inner stillness and ignoring the physical senses.

But it is deep. It is full. It is organic and full of breath and life. It centers on this simple heart cry, "Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner."

I am excited. I'm already feeling a strong pull to go sit on the mountain by my house, soak in the sun, and open my heart to this beautiful form of meditation.

I'll let you know ;)

To Crave By Meditating....

I've missed a few days of blogging, but I haven't missed any time with prayer as my intention.

This has been really interesting. I've been really battling a weird tendency to"babble" - praying just meaningless, empty words. My temptation is to just say anything to God for the sake of saying something.

So, I've had to tell myself to shut up. Repeatedly.

I've been really reflecting on Luke 11:9
"So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. "

Here's the breakdown:

ASK: aiteō. to ask, beg, call for, crave, desire, require.

SEEK: zēteō. to seek [in order to find out] by thinking, meditating, reasoning, to enquire into.

FIND: heuriskō. to find by enquiry, thought, examination, scrutiny, observation, to find out by practice and experience; to see, learn, discover, understand; to be found i.e. to be seen, be present; to be discovered, recognised, detected, to show one's self out, of one's character or state as found out by others (men, God, or both).

Hmmmmm....

To beg and call for by thinking and meditating.

And then to find out by practice.... to show one's self out.... to be found out.

Crave by meditating and it will be found in you.

This is different.

Prayer is a practice of life. It is a craving with feet.

We want something; an answer, a provision, a healing, a deliverance....

So we think. We meditate.

No babbling allowed. No small, forgotten prayer.

But we practice. Who we are, at the core, is revealed.... found out.

We PRAY without words. Prayer comes from the heart, from the mind, from the soul. It is the lived out expression of our desires. It is truthful and unreserved. It is the honest conversation in which we find the mystical and unfathomable God listening and watching with complete and captivated attention.

Prayer is not the answer. Prayer is the process. It is the unveiling of this small, screwed up little heart. Prayer is the opening.

Prayer can never be a formula or a recitation. True prayer is a gushing, spilling over, explosive revelation of self in the presence of the Rescuer.

There is no trick to getting God to listen.

There is no right way of praying.

But there is a true way of praying.

So, this blog is my prayer. It is an exposed and revealed piece of what is churning and changing inside of me....

I like it.

Prayer

This is my son, Judah.

Tomorrow is his second birthday and I have spent the day reflecting on his little life.

Judah was conceived, and born into, an incredibly chaotic time in our lives.

Joe and I were in this a really ugly space. I found out that I was pregnant not long after finding out about Joe's massive pornography addiction. Things were strained, my man was lost in selfishness, and I was completely consumed with the sense that I wasn't good enough. I was lost in self loathing. I was just lost.

Not long before I peed on that stick I had done a bible study by Beth Moore called "The Patriarchs".

A good portion of this bible study centered on what was happening between Rachel and Leah - Jacob's wives. They were sisters, married to the same man. Only Jacob loved Rachel.... and not Leah.

Rachel was barren. She wanted children, but couldn't have them. But God looked at Leah and saw that she was unloved and he opened her womb. She had son after son. while Rachel remained childless.

And each time she had a son, his name reflected the utter lostness of Leah's heart.

Because something stood in the way of her husband ever really loving her.

Someone else held her husband's attention. Leah was invisible.

She named her sons after her heartache, "the Lord has seen my misery, maybe my husband will love me now," "because the Lord heard that I was not loved he gave me this one too," "now at last my husband will become attached to me because i have born him three sons."

And then she had a fourth son and she said, "this time I will praise the Lord."

And she named him Judah, which means praise.

Like Leah, I was overwhelmed with the "Rachel" in my life. Something else stood in the way of me ever being loved.

And, for some reason, God had chosen to fill my womb.

And, like Leah, I had come to realize that my only hope of joy rested in the arms of my Husband; my Jesus.

So, instead of misery, I blessed that little man in my womb. I prayed blessings over him.

When my son was born we named him Judah Ezekiel. "Praise. God Will Strengthen."

Judah was born, after 27 hours of hard and painful labor, to the sound of my beautiful friend Tassie singing praise and hope to the Lord. The first sound he heard was praise.

And, that is what I pray over Judah today. This is the first day of making prayer my intention and there is no better way than to pray over my beautiful son. He is more than a reflection of God's love for me in the darkest time in my life. Judah is, every day, a reflection of hope.

So, this is what I pray for Judah....

But as for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more.
Psalm 71:14

Last Day!

This was the laaaaast day of our cleanse. It's only been a week, but it feels like a year. Seriously. This is why I never fast. It's not fun.

However, like I've said, this was unbelievably good for my soul. It was necessary.

I had an incredible lunch with my girlfriend - all fresh, organic veggies and greens (straight from her local farmer's market) thrown into a yummy salad. We sat on her back patio while our kids played and it turns out that I really needed that patio, and that fresh air, and that salad, and that friend.

I came home energized. I'm not even really sure why. I think I was just able to relax and enjoy the last day of detoxing. Plus we were Holy Yoga brainstorming and that always gets me fired up....

And then I ate a huge Italian meal at my mother in law's house for family dinner. And it was gooooood.

Here is my big, resounding "Yep! I like food again." :)

This week of cleansing is actually a part of something much bigger for me. At the next Holy Yoga retreat I am teaching on spiritual disciplines.... mainly fasting, prayer, meditation: silence and solitude, community and communion, and the little way.

I figure, since I just finished the experience of fasting, I am going to spend a week living with a deep intention in each of the other four disciplines.

I am also going to blog my way through it. My girlfriend, Cali, is going to do this with me and I am just going to open it up to anyone else who feels called to this little experiment.

Starting tomorrow I am placing my intention on prayer. I think I'm going to start with the Lord's prayer.... not just repeating it for the sake of repeating it, but getting a surrendered grasp on WHY we are called to pray so simply, and yet so fully. I am going to set aside specific times to pray without distraction and I am going to give myself reminders to pray throughout the day.

Really, my hope is to just stay in constant contact with God.... to keep my gaze from shifting away.

So, if you feel a stirring, then pray with me, my friends!

Overwhelming and abounding freedom to you all!

Day Six!

It has been pouring rain the last few days. Rain is a seriously beautiful thing in our desert. We rarely get this much free water.

I took Aravis out to get party supplies for Judah's 2nd birthday and, just walking up to the store, she was up to her ankles in water! I'm sure it needs no explanation since she is 4, but we had a lot of fun running through the rain to get to and from the truck. :)

This has been a soup filled day. I've actually been having a lot of fun trying new vegan soup recipes and there is nothing like warm soup on a cold night. Yummmm....

We ended our day with the most delicious minestrone soup (made by my loving husband while I soaked up some Jesus on my Holy Yoga Master's call).

I've learned a lot about my own ickiness this week. It makes me think of a story I read once by St Anthony, who was one of the original desert fathers (don't hate me if I don't remember every word...). He was talking about what happened when he first sold everything and entered the desert to be alone with God. His experience was that the great abyss of his humanity opened up in front of him and he was confronted with his anger and greed. He became aware, in that vast and lonely space, that he was a mess. He had to stare his messy self in the face before he could ever be free from it.

Yep. In a very small way, I am St Anthony in the desert this week. Let me tell you, a great abyss of my own humanity has opened up in front of me and I don't love what I've seen. But if I never looked it in the face, wouldn't it always hide just under the surface in me, affecting everything I said, did, and thought?

My own anger and self loathing have dictated the culture of my life. They shape the way I believe Jesus looks at me. They tell me how others look at me. They consume how I look at me. And all of that affects how I look at God. Mostly because I am too busy looking at me to look at Him. I'm seeing God through the filter of me, rather than seeing me through the filter of God.

This cleanse was so much more than I had expected. I've discovered something new about who I am, physically and spiritually. I can be stretched much farther than I had thought.

And I am still this messy, selfish, prideful human being.

I face a crossroads here....

I could so easily lay down the law for myself. I could dive into rules that would force me to be something new. I could find ways to use my self loathing to create change in me.

Or I could settle on one thing....

That everything hinges on the love of God.

I could fall back.

Messy and gross and mean.

I could just be what I am and trust that God will keep his hands all over me, shaping me as the wheel of my life spins.

After all.... He is the potter ....

I am the clay.

That's plain enough, isn't it? You're no longer wandering exiles. This kingdom of faith is now your home country. You're no longer strangers or outsiders. You belong here, with as much right to the name Christian as anyone. God is building a home. He's using us all - irrespective of how we got here - in what he is building
Ephesians 2:19

Day Five!

I woke up this morning with a sore throat. It makes sense I guess. My body IS pushing out toxins and such.

Nevertheless, I really don't want to get sick.

So, I downed some vitamin D, vitamin C, and some Wellness Formula tablets and headed out (in this rare, yet glorious rain) to get my yoga on.

I took a class at a local studio called At One. Definitly NOT Holy Yoga, but I love it when I get a chance to take a class there. They heat their rooms (not Bikram hot, but hot enough) which loosens up my muscles and even helps me breathe better. So, I spent an hour and twenty minutes sweating and breathing it out. It was fabulous.

I felt immediately better.... the wonders of yoga!

I'm clear headed, calm and easing out of this ugly detox funk. Good thing, cause I was starting to irritate myself.

I've spent the day eating soup, drinking juice and lots of water. I decided to take a day off from my usual stuff - like cleaning the house, etc. Although, I did pick up and clean the kitchen later on in the day. I couldn't help myself.

For the most part, this has been a very restful day.

Overall, this week, I think I am really starting to see how fleshy I am.

When I started to deprive myself of something I became even more aware of what resides in me.

I've also learned that, on the road to getting healthy, you sometimes get sicker first.

So, I'm ending today with some hulu and a warm bed. I'm rested, I'm more centered, I'm hopeful. Tomorrow will be new.

Be prepared. You're up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it's all over but the shouting you'll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You'll need them throughout your life. God's Word is an indispensable weapon. In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Keep your eyes open. Keep each other's spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out.
Ephesians 6:13-18

Day Four!

So, I'm not as angry today. BIG sigh of relief!

I think it helped that I finally told my man why I'm mad at HIM. Now it's out. And he is gracious.

Day four is supposed to be the peak detox day; meaning only fresh juices and detox teas. I think we all know by now that I am making up my OWN cleanse as I go...

So, today was juice, tea and SOUP. Ah, soup.

We made two soups from scratch: tomato and potato. MMMMMM.....

Soup never tasted so GOOD!

Some fantastic things happened today. Soup was one of them. :)

The other fantastic thing is that Joe cleaned the carpets. This is a BIG deal.

Our dogs have mistakenly assumed that every carpet in this house is a giant piddle (and poo-poo) pad. And, for a germ freak like me, this is bad news. Last night I told Joe that I wont live here anymore if the smell doesn't go away. So, in true white knight fashion, he rented a carpet cleaner and lifted that horrible smell right out of my house!

I am currently enjoying the free, clear air in my bedroom and thanking God for such a kind husband.

All of this to say, things are lookin up....

Husbands, go all out in your love for your wives, exactly as Christ did for the church - a love marked by giving, not getting. Christ's love makes the church whole. His words evoke her beauty. Everything he does and says is designed to bring the best out of her, dressing her in dazzling white silk, radiant with holiness. And that is how husbands ought to love their wives. They're really doing themselves a favor - since they're already "one" in marriage.
Ephesians 5:25-28

Day Three!

I wish I was back on that beach.... life is always better on a beach....

This cleanse is drawing out some VERY unattractive qualities of mine.

Unattractive quality #1: Anger. The best way to describe me in the last 24 hours is that I have been an out of control bitch. Plain and simple. I am MEAN.

Example: I was paying for my book and my magazine at Borders and the guy ringing me up decided to strike up what I'm sure HE thought was a witty conversation with me. Glancing at the photo of Britney Spears, he said, "she's going to die of an overdose soon." I was a little taken aback by his strange attempt at engaging me and said, "I think she's happier now." To which he replied, "Yeah, she does look a lot better now that she isn't all chubby."

It took all of my yoga training to not climb over that counter, grab that guy by the collar and yell, "What's wrong with being chubby?! And who are YOU to judge?!"

This behavior is not common. I promise. And, as my mom pointed out, my response may have been a little over-reactive.

I was just outraged by his judgmental and stupid comment.

Unattractive quality #2: Self loathing. Ah yes, here I am again. This old road....

Believe me, I've thought about throwing in the towel for the simple fact that my body image sickness is trying to raise it's evil little head again.

This is why I am not quitting....

I am detoxing on so many levels. Impurities, along with icky and stubborn heart issues are being pushed to the surface. Who I am in my flesh is coming out in full force. This junk is still in me. It has been brooding and determining which way I step. I have to get it out. I have to look it in the face and refuse to give in.

So, I'm going to stick it out. Jesus is IN this. I sense it. I taste it. I just have to ignore the temptation to make this about being skinny. I have to rage to my bedroom walls so as to spare my family. This is purging. It is cleansing. And I want to finally get it OUT.

So, I've altered my cleanse to make sure that there is no room for my self loathing behavior to resurface. I'm eating a potato and quinoa for dinner and I'm adding protein powder to my green smoothies.

Because this has never been about how I look. This is 100% about who I am internally.

I even feel a little better speaking the truth. This is freedom....

Tonight, Yeshua, let truth wash through me.... fill up those newly emptied spaces.... all for wholeness.... all for holiness....

You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true
righteousness and holiness.
Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

Ephesians 4:22-24, 31 & 32

Day Two!

Ah, day two.

This was a HARD day. My kids woke me up with fighting and whining. They were both cranky and unhappy.... which was not a fabulous welcome to the day.

But, okay. I'm a mama. This happens. Brush off the web of nasties and just get the day goin'.

So we juiced. Carrots and apples. Yum.

And then my girlfriend dropped her little boy off for the day while she went to work, and I fully expected cranky Judah to throw a fit over the newcomer. But, no. He was actually happy to have a friend. Sigh of relief.

I spent the morning cleaning and eating lots of bananas (for some reason they are so amazing right now). Finally I loaded the kids into the wagon and pulled them to the neighborhood park. Holy Cow, was it a beautiful day! Fresh air, warm sunshine, slight breeze. It was amazing.

But I was in a funk. I had this icky detox headache and I was GRUMPY. This is how I knew I was detoxing. I had the detox attitude.

I've been thinking about this all afternoon...

I have such high expectations for how my life should go. I want certain things. I hope for certain things. Yet, I don't give myself the room to enjoy those things.

If things are peaceful in my marriage, I hold back just a little to guard myself from what is just around the corner.

If I'm enjoying the moment, or the day, I curve in around my heart to make sure that nothing will pierce me.

I want a free life. But I'm afraid of enjoying a free life.

Why?

After all of my juicing, smoothies and salads today I did end up eating a baked potato. That stupid headache was unbearable and I knew I needed something to ease it away. The potato didn't quite do the job so I took a few Tylenol. Great for detoxing, I know.

But, now that the headache is gone, I have a little perspective.

Things didn't go the way I wanted today. And that's okay.

My expectations weren't met. I hit a roadblock.

In detoxing, I was hit hard by the actual effects of detoxing.

Okay.

So, I'm trying to apply this to my incredible fear of "what could happen". I'm really trying to see why I am so afraid of being happy.

I have a few ideas....

But I have a feeling this is just between me and my Jesus....

Like I am afraid that he doesn't really want me to be happy.... like I have to convince him to let me live free.

What bondage. No wonder I need a complete cleanse....

In opening myself to the Spirit of God and asking for a deep washing, I am finding that I am icky. There are things in me that stink. I am a cranky, mean mess. Ugh.

So, tonight... I just want to sit and soak in this ....

When we trust in him, we're free to say whatever needs to be said, bold to go wherever we need to go. So don't let my present trouble on your behalf get you down. Be proud! My response is to get down on my knees before the Father, this magnificent Father who parcels out all heaven and earth. I ask him to strengthen you by his Spirit - not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength - that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in. And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, you'll be able to take in with all Christians the extravagant dimensions of Christ's love. Reach out and experience the breadth! Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! Live full lives, full in the fullness of God.
Ephesians 3:12-19

Day One of Our Cleanse!!!

Day One! I am very happy with the beginning of this cleanse.

Granted, today was probably the easiest day. This is what we got to eat today:

A green smoothie (http://kristensraw.blogspot.com/)
Lots of bananas
An apple
A huge salad (spinach, tomatoes, avocado, cucumbers, celtic sea salt, lemon juice, and flax oil)
More bananas
Peach detox tea
Quinoa with celtic sea salt, flax oil and lemon juice
Baked potato with flax oil and celtic sea salt
Another huge salad (mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers, radishes, flax oil, and basalmic vinegar)
Water, water, water, water, water.....

Tomorrow we cut out the quinoa and baked potatoes. I will miss them.

But I am feeling very motivated.

It just so happens that day one of this cleanse is a Thursday.

Thursday is significant because on Thursdays I get to take TWO Holy Yoga classes. Alisa's class in the morning and Brooke's class at night. My two favorite classes.

It seemed appropriate that I start today. Yoga is extremely detoxifying and that is, after all, the point of all this.

This morning in class Alisa said, "Feel that resistance? It is that resistance that kept Cain from giving everything he had."

Ah. Resistance. It seemed that this was a perfect intention for this week. My flesh wants to give in. Already. I want to eat pasta and cake. I want to eat an entire loaf of french bread. I want to lay on my yoga mat and be weak.

But I've made a choice. And I like my choice. Even though my choice is a hard one to follow through on, I'm going to squish that resistance like a bug.

I don't want to come to the end of this week having cheated my way through. I don't want to hold back. I don't want to give into my weak flesh. I don't want to give up on the spiritual blessing of denying my flesh.

Like I said, I want to be free. I want to enjoy food again. I want to feel the moving of the Spirit as I pull my kids in the wagon to the park. I want to find healing and hope on my yoga mat. I want to open my Bible and find fresh, green hope growing in those pages. I want to breathe deep of clean, perfect air.

I don't want to resist. I don't want to struggle AGAINST God. I want to surrender to what he is doing.

I want to give it all. I want to finish my week.

At the end of this cleanse I want to find that my spirit is lighter, my heart is fuller, my joy overflowing.

And Ephesians 1 has been the message of my life lately....

So, I'll end my day here, meditating on the fullness of our freedom...

Because of the sacrifice of the Messiah, his blood poured out on the altar of the Cross, we're a free people - free of penalties and punishments chalked up by all our misdeeds. And not just barely free, either. Abundantly free!
Ephesians 1:7

Pre-Cleanse

Food has not been appealing to me lately. It grosses me out.

I feel frustrated every time I eat. I hate it.

It's no wonder. Over the holidays I lost my way with food. I ate so much processed, sugar-filled, even DAIRY-filled, garbage. Now I'm paying for it.

My tastebuds are on strike. My body is complaining.

I've had headaches, insomnia, and a general grumpiness.

So, tomorrow is the first day in a seven day cleanse. I've found a cleanse that allows for salads and even quinoa and potatoes on the first and last day.

But the best part is all of the green smoothies and fresh juices. Honestly, I've been dying for the motivation to break out my juicer again. And here it is! Seven days of smoothies, juices, salads, and detox teas! Yum!

Most importantly, I've been in a nasty emotional funk.

I've been overwhelmingly aware of spiritual laziness and of my intense need for Jesus.

So, on top of this fabulous physical detox, I'm taking on a spiritual detox.

Without rules or guilt, I'm just going to spend these seven days with a very strong intention - Jesus.

My hope is to spend real time being nourished and cleansed by the Spirit of God.

I'm going to do lots of Holy Yoga, read my message bible, spend time each morning and each night in meditation and prayer, and take as many trips to the park with my kids as I can.

I want to taste food again. I want to enjoy it.

And I want to taste the Spirit again. I want to breathe full and deep.

I'm hoping to post something every day for the next seven days. If you are so led, join me!

If you want in on the cleanse here is the link for the cleanse I am using, although feel free to do your own thing. (http://veganfusion.wordpress.com/2009/02/25/a-simple-winter-cleanse/)

Be free my friends!

Love....

Nomad

I find myself here at least a few times a year.

The world is just on the brink of shifting seasons. Things are starting to stir. The air is changing.

And I want more space.

I want to stretch away from the city. I want to see nothing but mountains, trees, grass, ocean, wildlife in every direction. I want out of the mess.

This is usually when I would try to convince my husband to move to California. I find plenty of reasons why we are meant for the free life. Cool, salty ocean air. Travelers with surf boards strapped to the tops of their small cars (made mostly of duct tape and rusty old car parts). Sushi joints looking out over a beach at sunset. Tan lines and sand in our shoes.

Occasionally I think I would rather live in the country somewhere. This seems like yet another piece of the free life. Something so unattainable, yet so longed for. Fields of long, swaying grass. Crickets and fireflies sparking the air with soft energy and imagination. A front porch that wraps halfway around the house. Open windows and the sound of silence. Clear air. Open skies. Room to run. Room to breathe.

I would take either. Preferably both.

This time I have a new dream. And I can’t help but want it.

While hiking with my man and our kids (on a perfect 70 degree January day), it suddenly occurred to me that we could just buy a motor home and have it all. The nomad in me thinks this is the perfect solution. We could live every life we are drawn to. A simple, connected life. A free life. Room to move and breathe and explore. Adventure and family wrapped into one little home on wheels.

I never make new year’s resolutions. They never stick and I don’t like to make vows I can’t keep. But I can say this: this year I want to live free. I want to take every moment and LIVE it. I want to acknowledge the nomad in me. I want to wander and travel and uncover and discover. I want new horizons and open spaces. I want ocean air and fireflies. I want finally see the sparkling, juicy fruit of the price I have paid for love. I want to be a better mommy. I want to see new things and open new doors.

And I want to convince my husband that motor homes are a good thing.... :)

Every Single Human Being

I’ve been contemplating lately.

It’s becoming more and more clear to me that we live in a very self righteous and hypocritical world. Our culture is overflowing with a message of tolerance and acceptance. We teeter right on the edge of wholeness and then slip off the wrong side into a muddy pit that is littered with lies.

I’ve been thinking about things like homosexuality and abortion and politics and sin and church.

I’ve been thinking about the people in my life that don’t fit well together; their opinions and lifestyles are hot and cold, sweet and sour, desert and ocean.

It bothers me that so much judgement and belittling exists in the folds of the human race.

Why do we ALL climb up onto pedestals and blaringly preach our opinions into each other’s faces?

It’s silly how we all claim to be unbiased, non-judgmental, tolerant, and RIGHT.

It’s especially silly that the “tolerant” ones have no tolerance for people who don’t think they way they do. They see differences as ignorance. They see woundedness as aggression.

There is so much name calling, so many groups where certain individuals are not allowed.

You might think I’m talking about the very liberal, or the very conservative. You might think I’m talking about those outside the church, or those inside the church. You might think I’m talking about the heterosexual, or the homosexual. You might think I’m talking about the unwed mother, or the married mother.

The truth is, I’m talking about all of us. Every single human being. We are all, every one of us, walking around, in a mindset of some sort that excludes SOMEBODY.

For some reason, judgement is our first response. We judge the sinner. We judge the judger. We all judge.

Not one of us is open minded enough to truly view the offender with sincere love and acceptance. We harbor bitterness deep inside of our human hearts. We make sharp comments about the people we have already rejected.

And this is how we know that we are human. This is how we know that we are missing something; we’ve slipped off the edge and we are stuck in the mud.

This is also how we know that there can only be One answer; One way; One hope; One love.

Because Jesus is the only One who has ever paved a sincere, unwavering road to true acceptance.

He’s the One who picked that adulterous woman out of the dust and made a choice to not scorn or despise her. He rose to her defense. What was there to defend? She had been CAUGHT in her violating act.

I’ll admit that I think I would have stood on the fringe of that crowd and ached for her in my heart, yet accused her with my thoughts. I may not have picked up a stone, but I would have willed someone else to do it for me.

What bravery burned in Jesus to rise to her defense. What freedom flooded into her life at the mere act of mercy.

What would it cost us to love the people who have offended us, the people who have hurt us?

I remembering reading something about how easy it is to love the person who loves you back, but what about your enemies? What about the person who makes you feel stupid and insignificant? What about the group that has left you out your entire life? What about the person who lives differently than you do? What about the world that makes you feel insignificant every time you turn on the tv and see a stunning, sculpted woman?

Maybe all we really need is to take a step back, take a deep breath and turn our troubled eyes inward. Maybe we need to stop rallying against the world that makes bad choices; stop making signs that scream of hate and rules and take a good hard look at that person lying in the dirt.

What would it cost us to lay aside our worldview, our political stance, our personal belief, and stoop down to offer mercy? Will we not bring freedom rather than a deeper loss? Will we not, ourselves, breath deep of the breath of God?

May we always be challenged to lay aside our need to be right for the sake of love. May we always remember that our job is to love first. And may we birth true acceptance in a world of shadows and mere images. May we be the spark of change. May the lost and broken and rejected find that the Way of Jesus will be their own hope. May they see that hope trickling down from our merciful hearts.

May WE be changed before we demand change from any other human being.

New Freedom

When I found Holy Yoga I was in a space in life where secular yoga was a battle for me. I walked right into Holy Yoga with a deep sigh of relief. No more battling the chanting and self-worship. No more googling the meanings of sanskrit words.

This was a new space. This was a safe place where I could trust the practice. I have been fed and nourished and healed through Holy Yoga for the past three years.

It makes me laugh when I hear the arguments against Holy Yoga. When you actually take a Holy Yoga class it is brilliantly clear that Jesus is IN this. The practice becomes something new; something that classical yoga will always reach for and never touch. It becomes about surrender; not to self or to an unknown divine, but to a Holy and Powerful God. It is a still and restful place. It is symbolic and beautiful. It requires an opening of that carefully guarded heart space to the gentle hands of the Creator. There is too much Jesus to ever let it be about a person. It is truly HOLY yoga.

That being said, I have entered a new space in life. After three years of exclusively practicing Holy Yoga, I have ventured back into the world of classical yoga. This time I am armed. I take off my shoes and lay down my mat. I breath deep and full. I flow. And this IS Holy Yoga.

The words of the instructor are filtered through the deep-set truth of Love that surrounds me. I set my intention on surrendering to the Holy Spirit through every posture and with every breath.

My practice is growing. So am I. I am finding Jesus in a yoga studio, far from the secure arms of a church building.

Now, I am so aware that this will not be for everyone. Some of us may never feel the freedom to step foot in another studio again. And so they should not.

God provides the right spaces for us all. He speaks to us in different ways. He knows our limits and what would harm us rather than do us good.

For me, in this season, He is allowing the practice of Holy Yoga to be a condition of my heart, instead of the style of yoga I practice. And it is healing me.

So great is His love....

And I am loving it.

Mama

For years my marriage was painful and disjointed. I was a wreck - tired and overwhelmed. I was emotionally starving and, literally, living in survival mode.

I have loved my children in every single moment of sorrow.... but I haven’t enjoyed them.

I had to learn to show love and affection even when I was completely empty.

I had to learn to place their needs over my intense sense of being lost.

I had to make sure THEY survived, even if I was drowning.

And then came the breaking point; the moment when I stopped shouldering my marriage and just let it fall.

Sweet, excruciating freedom.

When Joe moved out there was nothing left for me to do - my kids crumbled.

Thank God for my faithful friends that helped shoulder the immense weight of keeping my kids afloat.

It was the most painful moment of being a mama. Watching my little girl cry because daddy wasn’t here.... ah, Jesus....

But I have been watching God heal that wound - even the wounds I didn’t really know were there.

We are just starting our second year of Life Partners and, already, I am being broken open and put back together.

I hadn’t realized how altered my relationship with Aravis had been. Ever since I got pregnant with Judah I stopped having the emotional capacity to connect with her in the way I had before.

I was exhausted and rejected. I was carrying everything. And, somewhere along the way, I stopped being able to be anything more than a broken shell of a mama.

My sweet girl has been carrying more than a four year old should ever be expected to carry. And it breaks my heart.

Here is where the Rescuer comes in.

God is healing me; putting the pieces where they go.

And for the first time in YEARS I am enjoying every moment of being a mama.

As I experience the affection of God for me, I am experiencing a holy affection for my babies.

The things that I was merely surviving before have become the things that I love.

I have such joy in my children; in their laughter and games, in their bumps and cuddles.... every moment of mommyhood is filled with joy and love.

I am overcome with gratitude and awe. This Rescuer is healing the most tender and necessary parts of my heart.

The inner spaces in me that had once been battered and weary are coming alive again.

And I didn’t even know to ASK for this.

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. It is good for a man to bear the yoke while he is young. Let him sit alone in silence, for the Lord has laid it on him. Let him bury his face in the dust-- there may yet be hope. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men. “
-Lamentations

Affection

This is probably the first time in my life that I have felt the AFFECTION of God over me.

I’ve felt His love.... His commitment to me.

I’ve experienced His provision and His constant, sustaining presence.

I’ve been wrapped up in His faithfulness.

I’ve even learned to trust His goodness in the midst of personal hell.

But THIS is more.

This is a bubbling over kind of joy.

This is the oh-so-fabulous sense of falling back into glorious, unrestrained beauty.

Because, for whatever reason, I am 100% convinced that God LIKES me.

When I am selfish, lazy, fleshy and narrow minded, He still likes me.

When I watch too much TV and isolate from the world around me, He still likes me.

When I react stupidly and out of insecurity, He still likes me.

Have you heard Kim Walker’s song, “How He Loves Us”?

Alisa and I can’t help but picture a frosty ale glass in hand, sloshing frothy goodness as we swing our arms back and forth and sing, “Oooooh how He loves us. He loves us. Oooooh how He looooooves us...”

It seems silly and we laugh about it as we remind each other that all of life’s weird and painful circumstances can be faced with the joy of our exuberant swinging and singing.

Aaahh, but I am really, truly soaking in the affection of God. The splashing beer and wild Jesus bar song are vivid reflections of the joy I feel in knowing that I am liked.

For whatever reason (and I will never begin to understand it), I am thoroughly and unwaveringly liked by the King of Heaven.

“Oooooh how He loves us. He loves us. Oooooh how He loooooves us....”

Be Free

Be free.

I am having to read my left wrist a lot these days.

It’s a good thing it’s permanently etched into my skin.

I’ve already committed to it. Now I have to follow through on it.

Freedom.

The free life.

Today the free life means a peaceful life.

It mostly means the kind of peace you find in the very center of a storm.

It’s like being inside, next to a warm, crackling fire, while the storm beats down on the solid roof above you and against the watertight walls around you.

This kind of peace is a sense that, although something powerful and out of your control is happening right then and there, you are untouched and fiercely guarded.

I am going to have to CHOOSE peace. I am going to have to choose to be free.

And it is really hard. Mostly because I just want to lay in bed and watch reruns of The Office until the storm passes. I want to cry. I want to clean every corner and baseboard in my house. I want to run a marathon. I want to climb a mountain and stay there.

I want to do anything but deal with it. I’m tired of dealing with it. And, at this point, I’m standing outside getting soaked by the storm.

So, really, I’ve got to make the choice to go back inside and shut the door; to let the storm be what it is.

When this is all over will I walk away with freedom or with bondage?

Will I choose to be what is expected of me, or what I am called to be?

Be free.

New Spaces

I am in love with country music.

I love the imagery. I love the idea of wheat fields and old trucks; long front porches and strawberry wine; cowboys with dirt under their fingernails and thunderstorms on the horizon.

It’s an ideal life for me. It’s how I picture heaven.

And today I am sitting here listening to Wide Open Spaces. I’m contemplating the transformation that has taken place in my life over the last 20 something years.

Maybe there is a deeper reason for my love of all things country.

If you ask me what I want in life I could only say that I want a free life. Nothing less.

So all these images of wide open spaces, lazy summer nights on a front porch and laying on a truck bed looking at the stars are somehow my “intention”.

They are set in my mind, in my heart...

When I think of a free life, I think of a space without limits; an open and airy space.

Warm sunlight.

Trees swaying in the breeze.

No rushing. No stress.

Freedom. Joy. Rest.

Of course I’m talking about the IDEAL of country life... the hope of eternity and the joy that comes with it.

But, today, with the windows open and with an internally clean feeling....

I feel new spaces stretching out in me.

I Need A Hero

As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature objects of wrath.

But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions--it is by grace you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God-- not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Ephesians 2:1-10

So, when I was researching for the content of the last day of Bible study for the Holy Yoga Retreat I stumbled onto this story.

Ah, how a good, fiery story can grip my heart!


"A pastor friend told me about the day a very disturbing telephone call came into the church office. A part-time staff member, who had been out in his neighborhood walking his dog, had been mugged, stabbed in the heart and rushed to the hospital, and was now in intensive care with virtually no prospect for survival. When the word spread among the church staff, they gathered spontaneously to pray. Standing around the communion table, each person prayed. My friend told me that he and the others offered sincere prayers, but mostly polite and mild petitions, prayers that spoke of comfort and hope and changed hearts, but prayers that had already faced the hard facts of almost certain death.

Then the custodian prayed. My friend reported that it was the most athletic prayer he had ever witnessed. The custodian wrestled with God, shouted at God, anguished with God. His finger jabbed the air and his body shook. "You’ve got to save him! You just can’t let him die!" he practically screamed at God. "You’ve done it many times, Lord! You’ve done it for others, you’ve done it for me, now I am begging you to do it again! Do it for him! Save him, Lord!"

"It was as if he grabbed God by the lapels and refused to turn God loose until God came with healing wings," my friend said. "When we heard that prayer, we just knew that God would indeed come to heal. In the face of that desperate cry for help, God would have been ashamed not to save the man’s life." And so it happened."
http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=3334

This leads me, with great joy, to a FIERCE Jesus. A passionate, energetic Warrior. A King who hears the CRY of the forsaken, the broken, and the lost and DOES something about it!

The Rescuer is someone comes to save us from danger, harm, or violence.

We're talking about a hero here.

This IS a King. This is THE Warrior. This is a scene from a movie.

This is William Wallace (if you haven’t seen Braveheart, now is the time!). His only love is wronged and destroyed, so he rises up - he takes a stand against the enemy.

But THIS King does not sit up on his horse, off to the side, overseeing the battle. THIS King paints his face blue and stands on the front lines with his people. He gets dirty and he risks everything to win the freedom of the people he loves.

If you’ve seen Braveheart then you KNOW that the last scene is powerful and, yes, spiritual.

Unlike our Hero, William Wallace is killed and he does not come back from the dead. His story is simply a shadow - it invokes so much emotion in us because it is a mere reflection of an even greater story.

In WIlliam Wallace's story he refuses to bow to the King who is the inflictor of injustice and evil. He is sentenced to be tortured to death - humiliated and mutilated before he is finally beheaded. The Queen to be, who loves him, begs him to take a drug that will numb the pain - knowing that he is going to be tortured.

But WIlliam Wallace spits it out and goes to face his death with a clear head. Throughout his torture he is tempted by the man destroying him, "Just say you were wrong.... just swear allegiance to the King and it will all be over."

He offers him a quick death. All William Wallace needs to do is surrender the fight; give up the one he loves.

William turns his head and makes eye contact with a little boy. He sees a vision of his murdered wife, the very reason he started the fight, walking through the crowd. He sees his men, tears streaming down their faces.

And then William's last breath comes in a loud cry of "FREEDOM!"

The people who have gathered to watch are stunned and William's men stand in the midst of them and weep for their King.

It is the most moving scene I have ever seen. Ever.

It is moving because Jesus is in it. The story that shapes our lives is wrapped up in this true story of a King who fights and dies for freedom.

Our King, Jesus, does more. He comes back. And THAT is what makes him the Rescuer.

We love stories of heroes because a hero defies the odds; a hero does the impossible; a hero stands up to the darkest and strongest enemy and WINS.


If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. For this very reason, Christ died and returned to life so that he might be the Lord of both the dead and the living.
romans 14:8&9

Death has been the enemy from day one. Death entered the world through sin - it created a deterioration of human life. The body can only live so long when separated from God.

Death is to mankind what the King of England was to Scotland.

It kept us from a free life; it violated and threatened us throughout every moment of our lives.

Who can rescue us?!

How can we ever be free?!

Ah, there is a Rescuer. And he has come.

Our Rescuer, OUR King, stood on the front lines, surrounded by the sea of humanity, painted with the colors of freedom. He spoke words of courage and hope into the hearts of every human being who placed their trust in him and then he raced into the battle.

Yes, he was killed. It seemed like the enemy had won.

Imagine the sick feeling Jesus' followers carried in the pits of their stomaches. They, like WIlliam Wallaces' men, watched the complete torture and mutilation of the man they had placed the value of their lives on. He was the bearer of their hope. They loved him. They heard that cry come from the depth of his soul "Forgive them! They don't know what they are doing!"

And then they watched him die.

The Rescuer. Dead.

And nothing else seemed to happen. He was dead. Buried. Hope had died with him.

It was all gone.

But OUR Rescuer did MORE. The battle wasn't over. It had only begun.

We may never know what truly happened when the Spirit of God left the body of Jesus on that cross.

But we DO know that the Spirit of God came back into that body. Jesus came back.

Our King did not fail.

And in coming back, he paved a way for us.

It's as if William Wallace had thrown off the chains that bound him, jumped off of that torture table and marched into the King of England's chambers and killed him then and there - taking the victory and declaring freedom for Scotland.

Our story is thrilling, impossible, glorious and earth shattering.

It would be so easy to place our hope in a man like William Wallace, but those men cannot ever do what Jesus has done.

No man can ever make us alive again. No man can ever defeat the strongest, most terrifying power we will ever stand against - the power of death.

But the Rescuer has.


You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Romans 5:6-8

We NEED a Rescuer! that is the point of BEING rescued! it really is not about getting ourselves put together and figured out BEFORE we approach him.

In our everyday circumstances we NEED to approach him with our battles, our struggles, our fears and our hopelessness. We have to see our NEED for a rescuer in every moment.

He came for us WHILE WE WERE STILL SINNERS!

This IS the story of a KING who is fierce and powerful; standing on the very front lines of battle, painted in war paint, fighting for the freedom of his people.

This is the King who hears the cry of the lost and frightened. He has never stopped moving to free us...

Freedom....

Help

Jesus, send me something.

Anything.

My children are unreasonable and constant.

My very human nature is seeping through the cracks and I am TIRED.

We are on this amazing mountain top - hope and expectation are rooting themselves down all around us.

We are full and overflowing.

But, let me tell you, the wind is stronger up here. The sun is brighter. The fall is farther.

Just tonight, in this small moment, I am shaking.

I am trying to remember that, even here, you are praiseworthy.

There is something beautiful to be found here in my fragile moment.

So, listen to the wild beating of my heart and lead me into a restful breathing.

Draw me away with you into a complete withdrawal from what is so terribly frightening.

Teach me to trust my emotions to lead me to you. Teach me to trust that my emotions are not the problem.

If I stop fighting me I can start hearing You.

If I stop looking inward I can start looking upward.

If I stop fearing me I can start knowing You.

Aaaaaaah.

Just what I needed.

To step outside of me. To turn away from my anxiety and loneliness.

I feel better. Thanks.

Professional

When God moved Joe and I out of youth ministry we knew he was asking us to spend the next year focusing on our relationship with him and with each other. After YEARS of working on sundays and actually feeling like it was stripping us of community, fellowship and intimacy, we finally had the opportunity to sleep in on Sunday mornings. We spent our Sundays playing with our then two year old, hiking, watching movies together, and connecting. It was the most beautiful season of church we’ve ever had.

People hated it. People that we really respected shook their heads at us... they still do actually. :)

But it just didn’t matter. We were following God and we didn’t really care that it looked foolish to other people...

That decision set us on a long road towards freedom and healing in our marriage. To this day we do not regret a single missed Sunday morning at church.

Not long after that my husband’s pornography addiction came to light. I knew that I would never have freedom unless I knew every single detail. We stayed up till early in the morning for weeks and I asked him questions. It was painful and crushing. But it was also, yet another, road to freedom and healing. (side note: how merciful of God to have already asked us to learn to love each other...).

People we respected and loved adamantly urged us to NOT discuss the details. A few men insisted that “she doesn’t need to know.”

I know that their hearts were in the right place, and maybe, for someone else, that would have been the right advice.

But what would have happened if we had listened to them and not to God? Where would that have led us?

At some point in life we have to step out in faith; we have to consider the well meaning advice of people, and then follow God anyway.

This is one of those times.

Most people won’t understand why we are taking such a big, risky leap of faith. I don’t blame them.

But it reminds me to be aware of when I am judging people’s decisions and lives. I don’t know what God is speaking to them.

God’s ways are not our ways. He works in an eternal and mysterious way. We can either trust him and follow... knowing we look foolish to the people around us, or we can fall back in fear, letting worldly wisdom stunt us.

The last few days have put so much into perspective for me...

I am finding myself slowly having to release all of the comfort and expectation I have for this temporary life. 

This morning I was cleaning the bathroom and thinking of all the things I don’t want to let go of.

And then I realized, I will have MUCH better stuff in heaven.

I see these shadowy, wispy things that are so appealing... I act like they are the ultimate.

I forget that they will stay behind. They will crumble to dust (maybe not the disposable diapers and plastic bottles... :)).

But will I miss them? Will I long for them?

I can’t imagine even remembering them.

So, what am I clinging too? Why should I even hesitate when God leads us away from the normal and nailed down?

Yesterday we went hiking as a family. Hiking as in walking on a desert trail. Judah, although determined, is not quite ready for a real hike.

At some point I noticed that we were all flushed, hot and sweaty. We stopped for some water and then Joe did something unexpected. He broke the rules. He led us off the trail.

Now, I was trailing behind, trying to hold Judah’s hand (although I was rejected almost every time because he can DO THIS), and I was nervous. Here we are tramping around in the desert, far from the known path.

I watched my kids and our dog happily following their daddy. There was no doubt in their minds that they were safe and daddy knew the way. Aravis even announced, rather proudly, that “daddy is a protesticle” (amazing word for professional).

It wasn’t very long before we found ourselves on a new trail - headed back to the parking lot and the safety of our car. Daddy knew the way. He knew that those little legs were not going to make it all the way around to where the two trails met, and turning around is no fun, so daddy made a way. It was amazing.

Amazing because God is taking us off the trail. He knows that we would eventually get there anyway if we just kept trekking along, but we aren’t strong enough. So, he’s made a new way; he’s leading us into the desert and our job is to simply follow with a childlike expectancy. Our God is a professional.