Something Beautiful

Confession: I'm actually not a huge fan of Christmas. I know, I know. I'm a grinch. Okay, that's actually kind of true. I really was the Grinch last year for our Advent series at church. But aside from that, I have just never really LOVED Christmas. I don't have tons of family traditions that I look forward to every year. It's an incredibly busy season for us, and all I ever want to do is curl up in my living room and be still.  So when I started observing Advent, my soul started to settle a little around this time of the year.  'Tis the season. . .of Advent: the beginning of the new year in the Church, the season of longing, anticipation, waiting. Advent is the last four weeks leading up to physically the darkest day of the year. Then just after the darkest day the Light of the World takes on flesh and dwells among us. This past Sunday was the beginning of Advent, the Sunday of Hope, but today has really been the first day I have had time or energy to th

Years ago I came to the realization that expectations were at the root of most of my disappointment in life. Expectations - Reality = Level of Disappointment. The higher the expectations, the lower the reality, the higher the level of disappointment. At the time, I started managing my expectations and found that my disappointments decreased as I started laying aside my expectations.  I have been reflecting upon that time in my life as I prepare to encounter a weekend that is often fraught with expectations and subsequent disappointments: Mother's Day weekend. Like so many other holidays, Mother's Day is hyped up by society. Don't forget to buy your mom a gift and a card and get her flowers and take her to brunch. If you forget or don't then you must not really love your mom. That's the message our society speaks and the expectation is set.  And there's another underlying message that's spoken: if you aren't a mom, your value is somehow less. Society

I grew up smack in the middle of the "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" movement. I was passionate about not dating, not putting myself in compromising situations, not having physical contact of any kind with guys. I worked hard to make myself the kind of girl who was perfect marriage material. And maybe that was scary to guys or maybe I just didn't know how to interact with them or maybe I was waiting for that moment of knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was who I was supposed to marry. Whatever it was, it resulted in a 25 year old woman who was heart broken because no one wanted her. And then I met a man who did seem to want me, but I wasn't sure I should be interested in him. I had saved everything for him, and he was divorced. This would seem to be the exact situation that I should have avoided. But I realized I am a hypocrite. I professed to believe that God can redeem and restore anything and anyone, but I was acting like this man was

Grace.  That's what I named my car; the car that my parents gifted me as a wedding present. John Wesley defined grace as the undeserved, unmerited, and loving action of God in human existence through the Holy Spirit. This is the embodiment of a second chance. None of us deserve a second chance. None of us can earn a second chance. A second chance is all about love. Love that refuses to leave us where we are. I recently re-read a post I had written 5 years ago about my singleness. At the time, I had no idea what story God was writing. I have no idea where the story will be in another 5 years.  What I do know is where I am today and how I got here.  Five years ago, my husband was two years out of a horrible divorce. I didn't know him yet. I wouldn't meet him for another two years. By the time we met, he had become content with being single for the rest of his life, and I wasn't so sure that marriage was in my future.  I often think: I have no idea what I eve

I grew up in the I Kissed Dating Goodbye g eneration (p lease follow the link for information on this book if you are not familiar with it). I was nine when Joshua Harris' book hit the shelves, and by the time I was a te enager, his ideas had taken off like wildfire. I remember studying it in our Sunday school class , and ma king the decision that I would not kiss , have sex , or do anything that would cause harm to my future marriage and spouse.  That decision along with my personal tendencies towards borderline idiotic stubbornness likely kept me from getting into trouble with boys . It also found me 25 and single. For more than ten years , I sav ed myself and wait ed for my Prince Charming to show up. I had been careful to avoid romantic entanglements, having no t so much as held hands with a guy.  Now t here is nothing wrong with being 25 and single. The problem lay in the fact that being 25 and single lead me to question what was wrong with me. I had wor

My heart has hurt for the last year. Just when I thought that nothing could make it worse, there would be yet another news story filled with hateful words and painful circumstances or yet another F acebook post with friends and family fighting and throwing written punches back and forth. My heart hurts because of so much h atred and anger and pain.  Tues day, I voted. And as the polls were closing on the East Coast, I went to church. I gathered with my favorite pastor and members of our church family who fall on both sides of the political spectrum. Together we declared peace and unity. Together we declared that we belong to God and that our allegiance is to Him. We gathered around the Communion Table, we joined hands, and we raised a song in prayer that the Lord would bind our hearts together as one.  We broke bread to remind us of how Jesus allowed Himself to be broken for us. We took the cup to remind us of how Love poured Himself out for us. We prayed for unity instead of