My Old Kentucky Home

ridges2 (Originally published in the Grant County News Oct 13th, 2016)

Sherman Mt Zion Road. That’s where the Pennington’s live. All of them. Well, we used to.

My father, Donald Pennington, has 6 brothers and sisters, and I remember a time in my life when every single one of them and their families lived on our road.

We lived in the white brick house on the curve from the time I was born till the time I graduated high school and moved to Cincinnati. My parents sold the white brick house that Fall of 2003. They moved exactly one quarter mile down the road to the old red brick farmhouse that was my Father’s childhood home.

My mom started a greenhouse and then partnering with two other siblings, they started Country Pumpkins, a pumpkin patch and fall festival on the old farm. Practically the whole family is involved. After a few years, my mom was ready to retire, and wanted to be closer to her own aging mother in Somerset. So they sold the old farmhouse and moved south and Country Pumpkins relocated to my aunt and uncle’s dairy farm down the road.

Other siblings have moved away now as well, and us kids have moved north to Cincinnati or south to Georgetown or Lexington and have families of our own. But there was a time when we all lived in the same place, on Sherman Mt Zion Road, in Dry Ridge, Kentucky.

I remember running through backyards to play baseball with my cousins and skipping rocks in the creek behind Mamaw Lucy’s, we spent Summers splashing in the pool at my house, we would fish in the ponds down on the ridge, and climb trees and barn lofts anywhere we found them. There were a lot of us – so you always had someone to play with. We worked on the farm when the tobacco harvest came, or early in the season when it was time to plant. We worked together, we played together, we all went to church together, we ate together. The older I get, the more I realize how unique and special a childhood I had in that small town, on that country road.

In high school, all I could think about was getting out of that town and into the big city.

I used to go back and visit a lot to see my parents. But since they moved to Cumberland four years ago, our visits have become fewer and fewer, till they are almost none.

Just this past weekend, we drove south those 60 miles on I75 and pulled onto that road. We were headed for an Autumn excursion at Country Pumpkins. (Mainly, I was just looking for new, seasonally-appropriate profile pictures.) But as we drove down that road, I found myself pointing things out to my husband, things I’m sure I’ve told him about a hundred other times. Every turn held a myriad of old memories.

As the sun started to set, I stood next to that old white barn on my parent’s farm and looked over the valley of wildflowers to the next ridge freshly trimmed and bailed. I could see more ridges in the distance with various crops on them and the whole scene was awe-inspiring.

I had forgotten the beauty of this place, or maybe I couldn’t even see it before, because it was so familiar. But now, it was like I was seeing it for the first time and it was breathtaking.

I thought to myself, how could you look upon landscapes like this and ever doubt there is a Creator?

I didn’t realize how much I missed the peace and the calm until I was standing there soaking it all in again.

It’s amazing how different a world exists just an hour away. A place where my life is hurried and scheduled and jam-packed with work and commitments. And here, everything right down to the wildflowers are settled and relaxed, with a peaceful assurance that everything is just as it should be.

The wildflowers essentially rival the hundreds of dollars-worth of perfectly manicured landscaping I pay for at my house in the suburbs. They, like I, are trying so hard to achieve what these field weeds just are. Living comfortably in their purpose. Existing to please those around them and most importantly, their Creator.

No striving, or straining, or stressing. Just being.

I am learning the incorporate rhythms of rest into my hectic life right now. In the midst of working full time, while launching a blog, a book, a public speaking career and a ministry all in a year’s time, rest is not a luxury I feel like I have time for.

Home is always the best place to rest. When my parents moved away, I told my husband I felt like I no longer had a place to “go home” to. But this weekend I realized home was never a house, it’s these fields and these hills and this family on this road, this place is still home.

I don’t know if I will ever live on Sherman Mt Zion Road again myself, but it sure makes for a refreshing place to visit and rest and feel at home. And I feel like we will be doing that a lot more often.

The Other Brother

I can pinpoint the exact season(s) in my life when I have been the prodigal.

The rest of the time, I have been really, really good at being the other brother.

Feeling like I deserve things because I’m “the good one”, the responsible one; I follow the rules, I make good grades, I make good decisions. I’m REALLY good at being good.

But notice the character for whom the story is written. The reason it’s recorded in history. It’s called “the parable of the lost son”, not “the parable of the really good son”.

God LOVES the prodigals. They bring Him so much joy! He loves to celebrate them! It’s not that He doesn’t love the other brother, but notice where brother is at the end of the story: outside the party, sulking.

I want to be on the inside, joyfully rejoicing with my Father at ALL times. Not on the outside feeling slighted and entitled.

“‘My son,’ the Father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.'” – Luke 15:31-32

but while he was still prodigal son luke.png

Things to Remember When You’re Feeling Unwanted

Saturday was Clayton’s first football game. Clayton is the 9 year old boy who currently lives at my house with his mom, Jenny. I forgot my pom-poms but dressed in team colors with Nikon in hand, my husband and I walked into the ballpark ready to cheer on our little friend.

Jenny met us at the gate and pointed, “We are under that green tent, I left something in my car, be right back.” We found Clayton’s grandparents and I sat in the chair Jenny brought from our house. Jenny never sits, she’s too excited. The sun was bright but dark storm clouds were gathering, it was about to be a drencher!

The parents in front of us asked which player was ours and we told them it was our friend’s son. The dad admitted he needed someone to root for to make things more exciting; his daughter was one of the cheerleaders in front of us on the sideline.

There were several other parents in the tent. When one woman entered, our new cheer-dad friend said, “Come on in, we’ll make room for you. After all it is your tent!” They scooted their chairs up, and I scooted mine to the far edge of the side, Barry and Jenny stood behind me.

By the middle of the second quarter, the rain started. Just a sprinkle at first, then heavier. More and more people took shelter under the various tents, including the one we were under. There was chatter around me, but I was busy trying to find Clayton on the field with my lens.

Then above all the other voices I heard, “Oh you mean MY tent. Yeah, I couldn’t even tell it was my tent.” And as I looked over my shoulder, the green tent owner was rolling her eyes and shot a look in our direction. In that moment I realized we were the cause of the chatter. We were not actually welcome in this tent at all. I had assumed Jenny knew the green tent mom, and that she knew we were Jenny’s friends. Now it seemed that was not the case.

After another minute or two, and some more chatter, I stood up and folded up my chair and moved to stand behind Barry. Instantly, green tent mom violently planted her chair in the spot mine had been, even though she wasn’t sitting, she was certainly going to claim that space.

I felt the heat rise in my face. I felt embarrassed and ignorant for not knowing proper peewee football game tent protocol. I felt like I had imposed myself into a place and into a group where I was not invited or welcome. I felt like an outsider. I wanted to leave right then and never come back to another game, to never have to see these people again in my life. I felt a sting in the corner of my eyes and I couldn’t believe how much this was upsetting me.

Barry could sense my mood had shifted and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you having headache symptoms?” I shook my head and under my breath, “No, snarky mom symptoms.”

The seconds counting down to halftime could not pass quickly enough. At the buzzer, I turned and hugged Jenny and whispered in her ear, “Do you know the person who owns this tent?”

“No,” She said.

“Well, we are not welcome here. She’s made a couple comments, so we are leaving because I don’t have to be subject to that. Here’s my camera, you’re welcome to use it for the rest of the game.”

With every step I took on my march back to the parking lot the fuller my eyes got, until the giant tears spilled over my bottom lids and down my face.

I felt foolish for letting something so minor and petty make me this upset. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why it was so upsetting, really. But I recognized it was obviously a trigger of some larger emotional issue. Something I didn’t even realize was still rooted that strongly in my heart.

Suddenly, I was back in middle school and my older brother, whom I worshipped, was telling me through verbal and non-verbal ques, “you’re annoying, I don’t like you, nobody wants you around.”

I’ve come to coin this feeling “Annoying Little Sister Syndrome”. And I didn’t even realize it was an issue in my life until I was 25 and reeling with the emotional fallout of my divorce.

I went through a small group journey at my church called the “Free Journey” and realized so many of my insecurities and behavior in and from my marriage stemmed back to my childhood rejection from my brother. For example: Any time my husband chose to spend time with anyone other than me – like a guy friend – all I heard and felt was, “you’re annoying, I don’t like you, nobody wants you around.” So I would lash out in anger or with a controlling response.

I started to see how these feelings had manifested themselves in high school and into my adult years. I was possessive and controlling of my friends – and would become hurt or offended if they had friends outside of me.

But these feelings started even before my brother got “too cool” for me during his teenage years. My brother’s behavior only reinforced the whisper of a lie that was already planted in my mind.

For as far back as I can remember, I used to run away and hide from my parents every chance I got. I didn’t even know why I was doing it but what I did know is the longer it took them to find me the less loved I felt.

I remember one time I ran outside after church one Sunday and hid in the tall grass behind the building. I was laying there watching the clouds, I may have even fallen asleep. But I also remember hearing less and less voices and car doors in the parking lot until finally there were none and I was alone. They didn’t find me, they didn’t come for me, they didn’t even notice I was gone! Rather than panic, I started to cry. Because my parents hadn’t come after me, I obviously was unwanted and unloved.

In reality, I went to a small country church a mile from my house with most of my large extended family. So my parents just assumed another relative took me home. As soon as they realized that wasn’t the case they came back for me and found me inconsolable on the stoop of the sanctuary.

My parents were incredible and unconditionally loving, they did absolutely nothing at any point in my childhood to signify that I was either unwanted or unloved by them. So where did this idea come from?

You and I have an enemy. He is crafty and mightily skilled at deception. He is referred to in history as the “great deceiver” and the “father of lies”.

From the day we are born, he begins whispering seeds of doubt, fear, insecurity, and downright un-truth into our tiny ears and hearts. Maybe for you it’s not “unwanted” but, “ugly”, or “ignorant”, or “worthless”. And then he waits for any circumstance in our life that we could interpret as a reinforcement of those lies. He leaps at the opportunity to water and fertilize that seed so that it takes root and sprouts in our life.

In the opposite corner of the ring from our enemy is another Person – our ally, our friend, our creator, our Father. He has also been planting seeds in our hearts from the moment of our conception. These are seeds of Truth and love and acceptance, of purpose.

Just like a garden will be overcome entirely with weeds if not properly tended, so our hearts will become overrun with lies, choking out the Truth, if not guarded and maintained with the same care.

What you fertilize is what flourishes.

Fertilizing lies can happen many different ways. For me, I was seeking my entire sense of approval, acceptance and self-worth in whether or not my brother thought I was cool enough to hang with he and his friends. And before then, it was whether or not my parents noticed I was missing “fast enough”.

And it manifested itself in my behavior – always being the “good one”, the “perfect” one, the “popular” one people wanted to be around. Always concerned with my image and my performance. Perfect grades, perfect clothes, perfect athlete. While simultaneously being the perfect partier, the perfect drinker, the perfect flirt and “cool enough” to fit in with whatever crowd I wanted.

Whatever I needed to do to be positively reinforced and affirmed by people in my life.

And this was just rooting those weeds deeper and grooming them for continual growth.

Conversely, fertilizing Truth only happens one way. By seeking your approval and self-worth from THE Source of Truth.

And it has nothing to do with your clothes, or your grades, your friends, your job, or how well you follow the rules. It has nothing to do with what you can do at all. It has everything to do with sweetly resting in the fact that God loves you – no matter what.

The last thing I want is for this post to sound hokey and churchy. To be glossed over and concluded with, “what a friend we have in Jesus”.

The truth is, I didn’t have this revelation while I as living my perfect life and everything was going great for me. I had this revelation for myself when I was at the bottom of my lowest pit. I was broken, and battered, I was making bad decision after bad decision and hurting a lot of people in the process. I was disappointed in myself and I imagined so was everyone else. I felt like I had ruined my life beyond repair. I had no hope for anything good in my future.

And I was angry at God because I felt like I had played by his rules and lost big time.

It was in this place, when I was running fast and hard and far away from God that He chased after me relentlessly and passionately. I felt him saying, “Honey, all those thing you think you know about me aren’t true. Come get to know me for yourself.”

He wanted me. He liked me. He did want me around.

In 2013, Dara Mcclean released a song called “Wanted” (if you’ve never heard it, go listen now) my favorite lyrics are:

From the day you were born
And took your first breath
You opened your eyes and in came the light
He was watching you
But all of your life you couldn’t shake the lies in your head
Saying you’re a mistake
Oh but you were made
By a God who knows your name
He doesn’t make mistakes

You are wanted

The first time I heard those words I cried, and every time since I can barely sing along through my sobs.

I remember driving through downtown Vancouver a couple years ago with my windows down in my rental car blaring music from my phone. The sidewalks were crowded with swarms of bodies. When that song came on, I remember looking around and really seeing each individual person. At each stoplight I studied them. Tears blurred my vision as I wondered, do they know these words are true? Have they ever heard this before? As they are walking down the road right now are they questioning if they have a purpose or a plan for their life? This may be the only time they hear this message.

I wish so much that I could open up my head and let people who are hurting inside for even just a minute. I want them to see what I see, and feel what I feel, and know what I know about their Father who created them. Who loves them.

Just think about that for a second. The Creator of all the universe looked into it and saw fit to create one of you, that you were needed. He not only loves you, He likes you. He wants you. He knew beforehand every mistake you would ever make and STILL He wanted to bring you to life. And He STILL wants to be with you now.

Once you really grasp that for yourself, other people’s opinions and approval cease to matter. You might still shed a few tears over a peewee football mom‘s snarky comments or unwelcoming attitude but at the end of the day you are reminded that you are wanted and welcomed by the One who really matters.

Keep watering those seeds. And pluck out the weeds of doubt that tell you otherwise.

For the record, I ordered my own tent on the way home, so I will never have to experience that feeling again. At first I told myself and we will not let a single other person use it but us. But then I changed my mind and decided the stipulation for our tent will be that it is open to anyone, and everyone is welcome to use it. I really wanted to order a custom-made banner that read: “Welcome! Come use our tent!” with a line in parenthesis below that said “because we are not ass holes” (haha …this is me still not being perfect.) But, instead I just ordered a simple “Welcome” banner.

And if green tent mom ever gets stuck in a rainstorm at a game, she will have a place to stay dry and feel wanted.

welcome tent

Unqualified

Three Summers ago my stomach was in knots as I hit the send button emailing in my application to work as a camp counselor. I was afraid I wouldn’t be accepted because of what I had been through. I doubted I was worthy or qualified. I wondered if my divorce would make me appear as a negative role model that the staff wouldn’t want around their teenagers or own kids. Thankfully, I was graciously accepted and blessed with the opportunity to serve at Camp Northward’s high school week for the last two years.

This year my church, Crossroads, started their own senior high camp and I had a familiar flutter of insecurity when I applied for a volunteer position. But again I was welcomed with open arms.

On Tuesday, two of the girls in my small group expressed interest in being baptized. After discussing it further and talking with their parents, they decided to move forward with it at camp.

As we were prepping for the logistics of that day, the first of the girls asked if I could be the one to do it, I wholeheartedly and enthusiastically agreed, but then had to walk away as I was overcome with emotion. I could hardly stand as I wanted to fall on my face in absolute awe of my God. When the second girl asked, the impact was no less overwhelming.

I am constantly amazed at how God chooses to use me over and over again – even though I am so unworthy and so unqualified. Even though I have failed Him and missed the mark so many times. Despite the fact I have rebelled and gone my own way in the past. Regardless that I continually have to remind myself to let control go and trust Him… He STILL chooses me. He STILL pursues me. He STILL uses me in the lives of other people. Every time I allow Him to.
And EVERY SINGLE TIME He surpasses what I could even think of or imagine.

He is a good good Father.

it is in your broken places

LANES, PAINS, AND PLAYDOUGH SALONS

Hi, my name is Meagan. I am a songwriter/nanny/blogger in Nashville, Tennessee. I love Jesus and I love Taco Bell gorditas. I believe the invention of Crocs initiated the American decline. I regularly tell waiters I am allergic to cilantro when really I just don’t like the taste. I have watched Gossip Girl to its seasonal entirety 4 times in the past 10 years (#TeamLonelyBoy). I absolutely adore my friendships, think my family might actually change the world, and applaud any sign of grace over judgement.

So now that we’ve become a little more acquainted, allow me to share one of my most daunting personal issues. I mean, we’re there right?

If I had to choose one thing that holds me back from accomplishing my purpose, it is that vicious little vixen we like to call “comparison.” As a woman, I have found upon confession that I am not the only one filling a seat on this struggle bus, so I hope I am not writing this post in vain.

I moved to Nashville over a year ago and, quite honestly, gained the songwriters momentum quickly. I was focused and driven, a picture perfect cliche of the American dream. I developed deep, valuable friendships within the industry, and began what I hoped to be a thriving career. I came to Nashville believing that one could either be inspired or defeated by the amount of creatives in one city. With the best of intentions, I supported my friends and loved our little songwriting world. And then my friends started succeeding. They went on world tours, got record deals, and signed to labels that set their writing schedules. They instagrammed shows and facebooked conference photos. They began to pass me in the race, versus run alongside. At least, that was my personal, emotional perspective. On the outside, I celebrated each friend, went to their shows, promoted their new albums. But on the inside, I sank and sank fast. My faith and focus faltered, slowly stripping my heart of its original intent and filling it with a fear that God skipped over me and had chosen my friends instead. You see, I struggled with staying in my own lane. I realize that phrase can be highly overused in any self-help arena, but just bear with me as we dissect.

Each of us, upon birth, are given the beautiful gift of a one lane road in the form of a “calling” or “purpose.” God gives us an identity and graces us with dreams and goals to fulfill His ultimate purpose on earth. Our simple task is to stay in our lane and run the race presented before us, to do the best we can with what He’s given.

“I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” -Philippians 3:14

“Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win.” -1 Corinthians 9:24

I was constantly glancing over at my friends and family, eyeing their race with envy and, ultimately, defeat. If I had simply kept my eyes forward and focused on God’s path versus theirs, who knows what I would’ve accomplished by this time. Comparison is crippling. Learning to stay in your lane and embrace your personal race isn’t easy, trust me, I’m still a work in progress. But there are a few things I’ve picked up along the way that might be worth a read. So how do we stay in our lane? How do we keep that focus? Lucky for you, I have a few car analogies to get things rolling. (Get it? Rolling? Like a tire? Yeah I’m awesome.)

“IF YOU WANT TO SURVIVE, DON’T TEXT AND DRIVE”

Remember 5 years ago when Oprah went bat poop cray over texting and driving, creating awareness and a culture shift in her wake? We all know texting and driving is not only idiotic, it can be deadly. Too many statistics solidify that fact. And yet, how many times do we catch ourselves on an empty highway or bored in a traffic jam typing away? We check our Facebook during lunch hours, we don’t go out unless the plan is Instagram-worthy, and we get all our news updates from Twitter. Our lives revolve around connection, and social media has become the great connector. It can be a beautiful thing, a generational tool to be celebrated! It can also be fatal when viewed at the wrong time. One of the main contributors to my personal life-lane swerve was social media. I was in a habit of waking up and hitting my newsfeed before I hit snooze. Everyday I began with a solid dose of comparison. With every “like,” I developed a big fat failure feeling, all before my first cup of coffee.

I will say, it took a certain amount of self-awareness to realize that this was an unhealthy habit for me. Some seasons I can celebrate every single human on my newsfeed with adorational abandon. (No, adorational is not a word.) But I now know there are other seasons when I feel like life is moving a tad slower, or Jesus has me in a waiting period, when I have to monitor my social media intake. If I’m looking over at anothers filtered view of constant success, it’s easy for me to feel like I can never catch up. If you’re constantly checking on another lane, you will veer off your course entirely, causing a mental collision that’s hard to come back from. Satan loves these little stalls, these tiny hits of negativity. Be honest with yourself and your journey. Evaluate whether it’s a healthy season for you to be virtually present, and if it’s not, unplug. Trust me, your world will not end. People will still contact you. Your lunch will be just as good without the stand-on-chair crema filtered photo.

“CHECK YOUR BLINDSPOT, BABY”

One of the first things they teach you in drivers ed is to never change lanes without checking your blindspot. There could be someone else in the way, or a road obstruction outside of your view. When we swerve and skid into another’s lane, comparing ourself to what seems like their massive success, we rarely get the whole picture. We believe the grass is greener, however we don’t know what kind of weeds are hiding in their backyard. It’s so important to check yourself when you begin to compare because you don’t know that persons complete story. You don’t know what they went through to get to this place in their journey. You don’t know what they are currently battling to stay afloat. You don’t know who they hurt, loved, or lost along the way. You are literally comparing your entirety to their partiality and that makes no sense. Perspective is everything. Everyone has a blindspot they keep hidden or quieted, so when you compare keep in mind that you are most likely not getting the full picture.

“WE GON’ CELEBRATE AND HAVE A GOOD TIME”

Remember that feeling you got as a kid? You’d be at your best friend’s birthday party and they’d be joyfully opening presents while you were forced to stand around and watch. Part of you was just happy to be in the room, genuinely excited to be celebrating your friend. The other was absolutely downright jealous that they just opened the brand new state of the art Playdough salon you’d been secretly saving for with every lemonade stand. Can I get a witness? As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that feeling never really goes away. It just transforms itself into light envy via mountaintop engagement Facebook post, or new homeowners keys. You see your friends moving on and having these amazing adulting wins, and boom, here comes that little comparison virus. I have found that a practical way of mentally battling that moment is to outwardly and sometimes embarrassingly celebrate your tribe.

My friend Stephanie is AMAZING at this, ya’ll. If her boys come home from school with even so much as a worm they found on the playground, she will fall to the floor in shrieks of joy over their accomplishment. She is my #momgoals in so many ways. When someone you love has a moment to celebrate and you find yourself comparing, immediately catch it, acknowledge it, and then defeat it by doing the exact opposite of what your feelings tell you. Take the friend to dinner, freak out on their comment section, lose your mind in their general direction. Celebrate your people, because that’s what we are called to do. We are called to laugh with those who laugh, and mourn with those who mourn. So laugh, even when you feel like less, even when you feel left out or alone. Let those closest to you know that no matter what is happening in your life, you value their dreams and goals and support them completely. This isn’t easy. Trust me, I know. There was a moment in a particularly hard season of singleness when a friend of mine announced her pregnancy. I had a choice. I could celebrate alongside her or cower in my defeat. I chose to celebrate her, shower her, and quite honestly over-honor her. I am so glad I did. God blesses that obedience, and He fills that hurt. He is glorified through your willingness to lay your life down for your friend. So ya’ll, celebrate good times, come on.

“HONEY, YOU CAN DRIVE MY CAR”

The main thing that shocks me back into reality when I find myself comparing is one simple truth: THIS IS NOT MY LANE. Let me explain. This life, this gift of humanity you’ve been given, this lane is not yours. It belongs to God, first and foremost, no argument. When I focus on me, my failures, my insecurities, I forget the fact that this life and lane is meant to glorify Him.

“For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.” -Galations 1:10

Yikes. That’s terrifyingly blunt. “I would not be a servant of Christ if I was trying to please man.” We are here to share the gospel and our calling in life is perfectly assigned to reflect that truth. The fact of the matter is, if you stay in your lane and keep your focus above versus beside, you’ll realize this race, this journey is not about you. It’s about Jesus. And if it’s about Jesus, then there’s nothing that compares. He is all that matters, His heart, His opinion, His work is incomparable. This life is not about us. Your lane is not really your lane. It belongs to God. When I remember this, it puts everything into perspective. It doesn’t matter what anyone else is doing or accomplishing. My passion and focus is on Jesus, and that alone is the prize. That alone is all I need to fulfill me. That alone is all I desire.

Trust that Jesus sees you and loves you. He celebrates you and covers you. When you look from right to left, don’t compare your story. Jesus doesn’t. Like I said, I am still a work in progress when it comes to comparison. But oh how the pressure releases when I remember that this life is not my own. I’ve learned that if I keep my focus on Him, He never fails me. Stay in your lane. It might seem small right now, the road may seem windy or difficult, but know that God has gone before you. He sees every lane on that road and has made sure you are in the exact one that will fulfill the desires of your heart and bring others to His kingdom.

Celebrate your tribe, press forward, embrace God’s plan for your life. STAY IN YOUR LANE. And always honk if you love Jesus, ya’ll.

(If you’d like to read more humorously insightful posts by Meagan, you can find her blog here: www.thegracefulattempt.com )

Things I Learned in 2015

2015 was a pretty rough year. If you want more details, I get right into the thick of it in my blog called “The Year God Stopped Talking to Me”. The last year I had that was as rough as this was 2009, the year my marriage absolutely fell apart. But what I’ve learned is the hardest years are the years you learn the most. About yourself, about other people, about the world. I wrote another blog on New Year’s Day of 2010 called “Things I learned in 2009”. The things I learned that year were very different, although no less significant, than the things I learned this past year.

These are the things I learned in 2015:

Sometimes God shows up in very real and tangible ways and it makes you ugly cry.

Sometimes God is silent.

For a long time.

And you wonder if you did something wrong. Or if you deserve it.

Other times God is speaking and we aren’t listening correctly.

And then sometimes God is speaking to us and we plug our ears and “lalala” Him away.

Whoops!

Sometimes the things God prompts us to do are easy and second-nature.

Sometimes they are daunting,

Or overwhelming.

Or require bravery.

But they are ALWAYS for our best.

Always.

What He is looking for is our obedience. Above all else. Because He wants to bless us with other things, with more, more than we can even think of or imagine.

Sometimes that’s hard to believe.

Or we just lose sight of that fact.

And how we handle the little things determines what bigger things He brings into our lives.

Sometimes we have to take a walk through the desert. And it sucks.

Sometimes life isn’t fair.

Sometimes some people are allowed to get away with things that we aren’t. And we want to whine about it.

Sometimes, we do whine about it. haha

It’s not our job to play Holy Spirit for people.

Sometimes, God is working on things in people that he’s not working on in you. And vice versa.

Let it go. This is between you and God. And that is between them and God.

There will be other voices.

Listen to God’s voice above all the others.

And when He’s silent?

Well you certainly don’t abandon the gameplan – go back to the last thing He told you and stand firm.

When it feels like you just can’t, keep going.

Sometimes that’s harder than other times.

Sometimes that makes you want to cuss.

And that’s totally ok. He gets it. He can handle it.

God’s not going anywhere.

He is still right beside you – even when you can’t feel Him, or see Him, or hear Him.

Hold on to that. Find peace and comfort in that Truth.

This too shall pass.

Because sometimes, when you least expect it, God shows up in very real and tangible ways and it makes you ugly cry.

And everything will be right again.

Little Sister, Please Remember

A Response to “Big Brother, Don’t You See….”

Little sister, please remember

big brother isn’t perfect
nor will he ever be
if you put him on a pedestal
one day he’ll let you down, you see.

Little sister, please remember

He’s a human being just like you
You need to let him be
Give him room to grow and grace
To make mistakes, he’s free.

Little sister, please remember

if you adhere him to your standards
he will never measure up
always falling short of
filling your half-empty cup.

Expecting him to be perfect
So critical we are
But who are we to judge?
Or to be setting the bar?

So little sister, you have a job to do
and I pray you do it well
appreciate his good
and only praises tell

Love him great
and cover his faults
and when he’s mean
Know it’s not your fault

Sister, when he falls and scrapes his knee
you be the one to help him back up.
And when he fails at 33,
you be the one to help him back up.

For Big Brother he needs
approval too
He needs to know
he’s doing well by you.

Little Sister please remember,

He’ll always be your brother,
and friend if you’ll let him
So stay close to one another
And in time you’ll see the lesson:

That the fights never mattered
and the bickering was in vein
God created you for the other
to mold and shape and train

Preparing you for things in life
that were put here just for you and he
Each a purpose to accomplish
and people who need who you will be.

Little Sister please remember,
It was never really about you and big brother anyway.

Big Brother, Don’t You See

A few weeks ago, I sat watching my niece and nephew play together. I smiled and felt a sting of pain simultaneously as I watched the way she looked at him. She never left his side; she needed to be everywhere he was, doing everything he was doing, at every moment. And to use an antiquated expression, you would think he hung the moon by the look in her eyes.

“It starts that young”, I marveled aloud to my husband.

At 20 months she already idolizes her almost 3 year old brother. I wondered at what age he would become cognizant of it, and how he would take to that responsibility – knowing little sister is always watching. I wondered if he would be loving and inclusive like he is now, or if he would be cold and dismissive and indifferent like my big brother had been to me. My eyes stung with tears as I wished so much for him to be the prior. I thought about how much that yearning to be just like him would grow and manifest in different ways as she got older. And I prayed a silent prayer she wouldn’t fall into the trap I did of needing acceptance and affirmation from the one human being who withheld it from her. I prayed she would know she is loved and wanted, even in the times Big Brother wasn’t showing it.

Later that week as that memory replayed in my mind, I started to put these words together, “Big Brother don’t you see….” I decided to sit down and write a letter to Jeremy, a lesson or reminder for him that Big Brother is a big responsibility. I knew it would be read to him now and he would not fully understand, but I imagine him pulling this letter out over the years, as he grows and his knowledge and understanding develops. As he enters different life stages, these words will take on new meaning with each reading.

I was only a few stanzas in when I found myself weeping inconsolably at my computer. I realized I was writing this letter to my 35 year old brother as much as I was to 35 month old Jeremy. I was saying all the things I wish he had known and been conscious of as we were growing up.

As I was writing, my heart broke thinking about how much pressure all this was on little Jeremy – to be all these things, to be EVERYTHING to his little sister. And I suddenly saw a piece of the puzzle I had never seen before. I saw how much pressure and unrealistic expectations I had put on my own Big Brother. I thought about how hard that must have been on him, always being on a pedestal and living in a glass house. Never having any room to make mistakes and learn without immediately feeling like a huge disappointment. And in that moment I wept for him also.

So I penned a response to the first letter for Penelope called, “Little Sister, please remember….” Things I wish I had known, and what I want Penelope to know and and be mindful of as she grows.

It’s taken me a while to settle on just the right words and I wrestled with whether or not I would share it with the world, or just them. My husband read it and was deeply moved and convicted about his relationship with his little sister, he said he thought it was a good reminder for every Big Brother (and little sister) to have. So here you go:

Big brother don’t you see?

Big brother don’t you see?
her little eyes are watching,
watching everything you do.

Big brother don’t you see?
she wants to be just like you –
always emulating –
a lifelong game of monkey see, monkey do.

Big brother don’t you see
the way she follows you around
and looks up to your example?
Your feet never touch the ground.

There’s no more super a hero,
in a cape or tights
Though she loves father,
it’s brother she longs to be just like.

So, Big Brother, you have a job to do
and I hope you do it well
with all your heart and soul
and your striving never quell.

say your prayers
and brush your teeth
mind mamma well
don’t forget your q’s & p’s.

hold her tight when she cries
when she’s scared in the night
because in those little eyes
you make everything alright.

She won’t be little long.

So love her well
and show her right,
and always be the one
to settle the fight.

When you’re older,

hold your temper
and mind your words
because everything you say
matters most to her.

Forever your sister,
A friend if you let her.
Oh Big Brother can’t you see?
There’s nothing she’d like better.

You are her whole world
her moon and her stars,
And so also the one who
can cause the deepest scars.

So let her tag along
and be a part of things
tell her she’s included
and just watch the joy it brings.

Big brother don’t you see?
That’s all it takes to show
that to brother she matters
and that’s all she needs to know.

Click Here to Read “Little Sister, Please Remember”

A Billion Dollar Lesson In Disobedience

“When I talk to you….listen.” – God

So we all have lessons to learn in life, but we don’t always learn our lessons the first time, or the second time, or the easy way.

I was recently reminded of an important lesson – again – and I’m pretty sure I won’t be forgetting it this time.

Most people have those, “if only I had thought of that…” moments in life, after the fact. Let me tell you about mine.

Rachel, (it’s her blog…she’s my wife….on with my story) started traveling for work quite a few years ago, and would end up in questionable parts of town in different cities around North America. It bothered me a lot more than it bothered her, I didn’t like the idea of her being in places like that with me 1,000 miles away. One night while she was away, I came up with a great app idea that would color-code a map to show where “safe”/”unsafe” parts of town were in any given city. I shared the idea with her and she agreed it was cool and would be useful.

Unfortunately for me, I allowed seemingly large obstacles stop me from acting on the idea. Thoughts like, “I don’t know how to make apps!?” And “Surely someone else has already come up with/done this.” Or “Where would I even start?” “How much will it cost?”

I say seemingly large obstacles, because looking back NONE of those should have stopped me. I mean, that is what entrepreneurs do – they find a way to push through; push through what they want to do and do what they need to do, push through the doubts about themselves, the doubts of others and sometimes (maybe even most times) the doubts of logic – to create something truly special.
I had always been entrepreneurial at heart and knew that’s eventually what I wanted to be full-time.

About a year ago, we attended a entrepreneurship conference at our church. At that conference a contest was held, business ideas were pitched and a small cash prize was awarded to the winner.

Crazy thing, the winner of the contest that day had “my” app idea!

I was bummed personally but it’s not like I ever did much with the idea except tell my wife, kick it around an hour here or there, then allow procrastination and inaction take over.

At the conference, I actually went up and congratulated the winner and thanked him for acting on the idea to make happen.
It was motivating to me although frustrating at the same time. That experience confirmed in me that I am smart and I can come up with great ideas – I just need to follow through.

A year later, our church’s Start-Up Accelerator program was “graduating” one class of new businesses, and taking applications/pitches for the next class. They were making an announcement about the success of the previous class. Turns out, the guy who won that “little” contest at the conference was also invited into the Accelerator. He had just pitched the idea at “DEMO day”, to investors from all over the world, and was told the idea is worth potentially a BILLION dollars. That’s with a B and heck of a lot of zeros following it.

I immediately felt like I got punched in the gut. My face probably went pale, and I thought I would puke right there in the pew.

What had I done? Or rather NOT done! I failed my wife, my family, and future generations and so many others. The voice in my head said, “way to go Barry another opportunity at greatness that you let pass by, due to procrastination.”

For the next couple hours I had myself quite a grand self-pity party. I had moments of clarity and motivation, but mainly pity. I was miserable to my wife and anyone unfortunate enough to be around me.

Then I began writing this because God started talking to me again and this time I chose to listen.
I want to share my revelation with you.

You see “I” didn’t have that idea. He had that idea, and planted it inside me, He gave me an opportunity.

God will get His ideas done with or without you but He wants you to be a part of them, to bless you, but you have to listen.

That app idea was worth a Billion dollars and yes, I could have/should have been a part of it. But it wasn’t about me making money, it wasn’t even about me at all.

Follow me here: God needed a way to route some money (He always works through people to get things done on earth). Earlier this year, our church announced a campaign to fund some incredible things they feel God calling them to do in our city, around our country and around the world. From tackling poverty in the inner city, launching new sites, building infrastructure for impoverished and orphaned children in third world countries, rescuing and rehabilitating girls out of sex slavery… amazing, world-changing initiatives. It will take HUNDREDS of MILLIONS of dollars to see all those things through to fruition. God’s end goal was getting money into my church.

Yes, personal financial gain would have been a bi-product of my obedience. But God knew what I would turn around and do with that money.

He was providing my church with a patron, in possession of God’s idea, to turn around and bless them and therefore use those resources to serve God and reach others.

How selfish and ignorant of me to first ignore God, but then second, think it was about me.

Some of you may be reading this saying, so what! Someone thought of something you thought of. They made it happen and you were lazy and didn’t do it. Happens all the time, How’s that God?

Think about it, in all the world of 6 billion people, two people in the same city, at the same church, have the same idea that is worth an insane amount of money within a relatively short amount of time?

One listened, the other didn’t. But God still made it happen. Those resources will still flow and His kingdom will grow and prosper because of it.

I haven’t talked to the guy who made it happen since that day at the conference. Good for him for listening to God and making it happen.

I mentioned he had a cool story behind it and funny enough it is similar to how I thought of the idea initially. But his story is even cooler once you learn what he overcame to beat those obstacles and put himself in a position to end up where he has. And now he will be rightfully blessed for that obedience and hard work.

I repented for my disobedience and asked for forgiveness. I also asked God not to give up on me and to continue to pursue me and talk to me.

My hope and prayer is that He chooses to bless me with more opportunities for greatness to serve Him and that when He does, I will be BRAVE enough, diligent enough, and in close enough relationship with my Dad that I hear His voice and without hesitation answer, “YES!” Then joyously run toward whatever idea, adventure, life, and calling He has in store for me.

I believe He will answer my prayer. I’ll be listening for Him that’s for sure.

– Guest Blog by Barry Neuberger

Barry is an avid outdoorsman, semi-professional gourmet chef, and former collegiate club soccer star. He currently runs multiple businesses and always thinking of the next. He lives in Cincinnati with his wife Rachel and their full house of animals.

UPDATE: This blog was first posted as a “trillion dollar lesson” because that was the figure used from stage at church, but Barry decided that sounded a bit unbelievable and possibly the speaker misspoke. A billion dollar figure is much more realistic and believable for this kind of idea.

Woman Camp

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Recently, my church held a camping weekend woman’s retreat, they called it “Woman Camp”.

Ten years ago, if you had told me I would be signing up for a camping trip for 500 women only – voluntarily – I would have thought you were crazy. Sure I had attended plenty of women-only events… out of sheer obligation, but not excitedly. And I didn’t really feel like I fit in when I was there, I just didn’t relate.

In case you don’t know me, I am exactly equal parts fashionista and tomboy; which means you’re just as likely to catch me barefoot as you are in AWESOME stilettos. My best friends had almost exclusively always been guys and that’s who I spent time with.
If you were a female, you had to be not “chick-like”, but love shoes as much as me, to be invited into my circle. Chicks were crazy, high-maintenance and drama, I said.

And then, after a few years of experiencing hurt and neglect and verbal abuse and rejection, I became one of the crazy chicks. I suddenly understood all their feelings and irrational behaviors for the first time. I found myself acting out, just as irrationally.
I experienced the “why” behind their “what”, the root behind their fruit (as Jennifer Beckham would say), firsthand.

And that’s when it happened: My heart broke for them. All of them. From the most meek and timid and insecure, to the most angry and bitter and malicious, because under the surface they were all dealing with the same root(s), and so was I. I got it.

My heart softened toward them. I started listening to them instead of talking about them. Many of their stories were so similar to mine.

And then, I got mad. I saw how easily the enemy manipulates and abuses this gender – my gender. And in my heart, an agape love for these people was cultivated.

And then a handful of beautiful girls stepped alongside me and showed me what a sisterhood looks like. They loved me relentlessly and graciously accepted all my parts – the good, the bad, the tomboy and the ugly. 😉 And I wanted to do the same for them.

It didn’t take long before all the pieces fit together, and a PASSION for leading women out of bondage and shame, fear and isolation and into freedom, healing, wholeness and restoration was born in my soul.

That’s what this Woman Camp weekend was about for me – getting to be a part of that movement in Cincinnati, inside my church community. I got a glimpse of what that passion looks like coming to fruition. I wanted a front row seat to watch God do incredible, miraculous things in and through women. And I was excited to be a part of or help facilitate lives changing in any way I could.

This weekend was also a time of refreshing and worship away with my Father. It was Him showing me his plans and visions for me, once again. Him reminding me that He is handling everything, from every angle, and I’m just along for the ride – Safe. Protected. Provisioned. Called. Chosen. Anointed. Unqualified, but made qualified for this task through Him.

Let the veils stay lifted away and burned for each of us, and a clear picture of who God says we are and is calling us to be be branded in our mind’s eye. Our God has so much more for us. We are free women. No longer slaves to fear. We are children of God.