The Best Days of Your Life

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Every year, I tape a quote to the front of my planner, something I am going to focus on for the year.

This is what I choose for 2013. March of that year would mark 2 years since my divorce, and 3 years since my husband left.

2010 and 2011 were a blur, as everything I believed in and the picture I held of my life shattered in front of me.

2012 was the year God chased after me relentlessly, as I was running full speed away, and invited me into a new, fresh relationship with Him unlike anything I had ever experienced. But I still struggled to see how my my dreams could ever look like they once did.

I chose this quote for 2013 because it was something I needed to believe. Something I needed to be reminded of as often as every day.

Little did I know that 2013 would be the year I would get engaged and remarried. (Not that getting married is the answer to all your problems and sorrows, by any means). But for me, my journey toward remarriage was the most intense learning and growing period of my life. My book and my calling were literally birthed out of those six months I threw myself into preparing for our marriage. God took me by the hand and led me to the place where I could see these words were absolutely true.
(and He wants to do the same for you)

Weighted Words

The first time someone tells you they took notes on your talk, is a humbling and sobering moment. You realize you’re not just talking anymore.

I’ve always been a story-teller, but now my stories carry a weight and a purpose, and can change people’s lives.

They always have on a smaller scale. Words are seeds. Seeds we plant in our own mind and our own lives, as well as in the lives of those we encounter.

A few weeks ago my church played a music video for “Shake It Out” by Florence + The Machine that they remade. You should go watch it, but for those of you with limited time I’ll attempt to help you visualize: It starts with a scene of a little girl practicing her ballet for her father, she’s so proud to show him what she’s learned. He claps and nods in approval then the words, “you can do better” slip carelessly from his mouth. The words are written in smoke on the screen and travel to the little girl’s ears. Then manifest as a the word “perfectionism” being branded on her chest. Several other scenes of children with their fathers follow, and different words are tattooed on their small, impressionable bodies from the words spoken to them. Those labels become identities, which become demons with whom they battle through to their adult lives.

The video is powerful. It’s shaking. It leaves a lasting impression. It’s absolutely true.

And it’s not just children who are affected by words, we all are. You know that phrase, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me”? Yeah, that’s a lie. I’m sure it wouldn’t take you long at all to think about some hurtful words you received at some point in your life that still occasionally (or constantly) haunt you. Or even some positive words you heard that have driven you, or molded you.

Now I’m speaking words from a larger platform and more people are being impacted than just my friend on the phone or the person on the other side of the Starbucks table. Which is exactly what I wanted, what I know God is orchestrating, but the reminder struck me with such a sense of responsibility in that moment.

“To whom much is given, much is required.” -Luke 12:48

A select handful of close friends have read my book already on order to help me tweak it and to provide “advanced reviews/praise” for the release.

One of those friends recently told me that she took a lot of notes while reading my book. I giggled a little and told her, “I never thought about people taking notes from something I wrote. But I guess that makes sense because I take notes from books I read.”

It’s little milestones like these that keep me encouraged and moving forward on this journey.

The bigger my platform grows the more people my words will reach, and the bigger the responsibility I have to consider every word I let out.

No matter whether they come from my fingertips through the keys or out of my mouth, my resolution is that every word I produce: uplifts, encourages, inspires, provides hope, and comforts a hurting heart. I want people to receive a Breath of Fresh Air through me. To feel lighter, empowered, brave, comfortable and confident after I leave them. I want to lift the weight of shame, guilt, doubt, uncertainty and depression off their shoulders in the time I have with them.

That’s a lot. A big responsibility. It could be a lot of pressure. But I know I cannot do any of this in and of myself. It doesn’t come from me anyway. I’m only a grateful conduit of this transfer of love, grace, hope and inspiration with my words.

My task now is to always keep in check where my words are originating, are they from my flesh or from my Spirit? I will not always have the right words to say, but I don’t have to.

“Then the LORD reached out and touched my mouth and said, “Look, I have put my words in your mouth!” – Jeremiah 1:9

“For it was I, the LORD your God, who rescued you from the land of Egypt. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it with good things.” – Psalm 81:10

Worth Fighting For

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We ran into a Purple Heart Vietnam veteran in Vancouver, when my husband thanked him for his service, he turned and looked him intently in the eye and said, “you were worth fighting for.”

Makes me tear up again just typing it. Though vastly underappreciated, what an incredible generation of warriors.

And what an honor to be told we are worth their sacrifice, even at the times we don’t deserve or appreciate it.

Kind of reminds me of Someone Else I know who tells me I’m worth fighting for even when I don’t deserve it….. #sundayfoodforthought

Color-Blinded

This is the most uncomfortable topic I’ve written about.

Here’s the thing, I grew up in a small farm town in Kentucky, of the 1300 kids in my school, there were like 3 black kids, and I was friends with them.

I wasn’t naïve enough to ignore that there were some people in my town and in my school who were outwardly racist – white people who hated the black families for nothing other than the color of their skin. But it didn’t make sense to me.

I moved to the “big city” of Cincinnati two months after graduating high school and my black friend ratio went way up. It’s not like I intentionally sought out to make my friend pool more colorful, it’s just that there are a lot more black people in Cincinnati than small-town Kentucky, period.

Every one of my black friends and I have more in common than we do not. Our skin may fall on opposite sides of the shade spectrum, but our beliefs, our values, our passions, our missions are aligned. I surround myself with people who are like-minded – on purpose. There is nothing of substance that differentiates my black friends from any of my white friends. (I do naturally talk more soulfully around them – I don’t know if they’ve ever noticed – and I love it.)

A few years ago, some weird things started to happen in our country and for the first time in my life, I started thinking about the colors of our skin. Although we are a more racially diverse society than ever before – think of how many more biracial couples, families, children, there are than in the 1980s when I was growing up – America’s racial tensions have increased not subsided.

I am told how my black friends feel about me by the media. And they are told how to feel about me.

I catch myself wanting to filter what I say and topics I bring up around them. Will I offend them? I start thinking about all the ways we are different, instead of all those things we have in common. And I hate that those things cross my mind. ABSOLUTELY nothing between us has changed, we have not changed. I can still talk with them about whatever I want, because we are friends, and that’s all that matters.

Earlier this week, riots began in Ferguson, MO again. I flew to Atlanta on Tuesday for work. Atlanta is a predominantly black city, in a lot of areas. And a lot of those areas are predominantly in poverty. I’m a small white girl wearing “fancy” clothes and driving a nice-looking rental car.

As I got in my rental and began to pull out of the garage, I wondered if the black woman working the booth was going to be sour to me this week, with everything going on. I wondered if she was thinking that I was thinking that I was better than her. I felt the need to come right out and say, “I have lots of black friends”, to justify the color of my own skin.

She was just as nice as ever. And I was relieved.

Next, I went through the drive thru for lunch and I could tell the girl on the other end of the speaker was black. So I knew she could tell I was white. And I wondered if she secretly hated me because of that.

She was the most pleasant KFC window-worker I’ve ever met, and when she handed me my friend chicken and mashed potatoes, she wished me a “good day” so genuinely I actually felt it.

Since then, the girl that checked me into my room was black, and the pool worker who tipped me off to the fact I had secret admirers watching me through the glass, and the woman who brought me my dinner tonight…. They were all black. They were all wonderful people and delightfully friendly. And none of them hated me because I was white. It’s like they didn’t even know they were supposed to.

Here’s what I hate: the fact that those questions even go through my mind. The fact that skin color is something I think about so much more often now, than when I was walking the school halls with the only three black kids. I hate that I feel myself stereotyping, and making assumptions. Rather than being color-blind, I’m color-blinded.

Have you ever felt like this?

And it’s not because we, as a people, as a country, have changed in the last 10 years, it’s not like we suddenly got more racist. (You could reason we have gotten less-racist – we do have a black president.) But because the media has told us we are more racially divided than ever. Because there are people who entice that division and push the gap wider. And because, like Pastor Chuck Mingo said from stage at Crossroads’ “Night of Hope” two weeks ago (the day the DuBose case was finalized; and there was a palpable anxiety in the city wondering if Cincinnati would erupt into riots), “we have an enemy who’s behind all of that who loves nothing more than to see people divided.” And isolated. And self-conscious. And alone.

People aren’t rioting and looting and attacking each other because of something the media said (I get that), but because they’re angry and confused. And those seeds of anger and confusion were planted, and nurtured and grown to full-stature by that enemy.

I love that I go to this church that is leading the charge to racial reconciliation, first, in our city then our country. I love that they get it. I love that they talk about the only color that matters is the color red, the color of Jesus’s blood that was shed to save and to reconcile each and every one of us – white, black, Hispanic, Asian – ALL of us. I love that there is literally a rainbow of an army of people in that church who are locking arms and working together to break down these stigmas and barriers. Who are re-writing that message that’s being sent out by the media. And I love that I get to be a part of that.

I am ready to see through people’s skin again, like when I was younger and less tainted by the lies of the enemy of this world. I’m through with those creeping thoughts and questions in the back of my mind.

But, this isn’t a clean-cut entry with a nice little “finished” bow on it. This is something that’s still very real and present in my life and something I’m still working on and working through. But, it’s something I needed to get out. To say it out loud. To face it head-on. So, with the help of ALL my friends, I can move past it.

Thanks for working through this with me.

Eye See You

It’s been said that our eyes are the windows to our souls. I believe that.
I saw a picture tonight, of a girl I don’t know, and this thought went through my head:
There are some people, who even though they are smiling in every picture, and even if their smile is perfect, you can still see sadness in their eyes.
Have you seen this before? Has this ever been you?

My next thought was: These are the people I want to meet. I want them to know they don’t need to wear a smiling mask. I want them to know they are not alone. And I want to give them a picture of hope so strong that they can smile – not only with their whole face, but with their whole lives.

I don’t think we ever really know what’s going on in other people’s lives, but I feel like if we take the take the time to really look one another in the eye, we might see a lot of people who need that same message.

#56

Skydiving is was on my bucket list. It’s number 56, in fact. I kind of had it penciled in for this Summer, and then my best friend turned 40 and decided that’s what he wanted to do to celebrate. BINGO!

Weeks leading up to the event I was pure bottled excitement and eager anticipation.

My husband had a scheduling conflict arise so that he was not able to join us, and I remember having a strange little flutter of uneasiness. Am I going to be able to do this without him? Won’t I need him there? Then I reminded myself, I lived a pretty routine life for 25 years before I met him, eight of which included my best friend who I was going to be with, so I would be just fine.

As the day drew closer, I started to feel my excitement turn slightly to nervousness and the night before, I was progressively overcome by sheer, paralyzing terror.

I took a long shower to try and relax my nerves, but sitting on the floor in the steam the words of the mandatory safety waiver video played through my head on a haunting loop, “Skydiving is dangerous and can cause serious injury, or even DEATH. Nothing about skydiving is guaranteed. No parachute manufacturer is perfect, no parachute packer is perfect, no skydiving company is perfect, no instructor is perfect. Equipment can fail. Instructors can fail. Weather can cause unsafe conditions. Strong winds can cause a parachute to collapse….”

And then this thought went through my mind: Was I going to die the next day? Followed by: What if I did? How badly would my husband be crushed? Would he blame himself? How long would his life be derailed? Is this the last day I’m going to spend with him?

I got out of the shower and the words continued to avalanche. I distinctly remember as I smeared lotion on my legs thinking, what if something worse happens – like we crash and I am paralyzed? I just met a quadriplegic who’s walking her faith journey out with God, and feels closer to God now than she ever has. What if God allows that same thing to happen to me? What if God tries to teach me something through an injury? I like my legs. I like being able to use them. Is this the last time I’m going to be able to move them freely myself?

A movie reel played in my head as it zoomed out on this moment: a bird’s eye view of me lotioning my legs was the foreshadowing of what I didn’t know was coming the next day. It’s actually beautifully cinematic, I darkly narrated to myself. Should I just not go through with it to avoid even the possibility of disaster?

I should pray. But, is this something I am even allowed to pray about? Or am I not allowed to ask for protection for voluntarily jumping out of a plane – literally putting my own life at risk? Am I tempting fate? Tempting the prowling lion looking for lives to devour? Was I moving outside that hedge of supernatural covering I’d so clearly seen and felt protecting me?

I thought about all the things I knew I was created to do that were still undone, and wondered if I was risking letting Satan steal them?

I was almost sick to my stomach with all the thoughts swarming in my head.

I was terrified to say anything out loud, or at least wise enough to know what not to let come out of my mouth. I didn’t want to give life to any of these fears – as statistically improbable or irrational as they were. The seed had been planted and my enemy – the biggest liar in history – was having a field day with it!

I was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling when my husband walked in the room. I’m sure by my deflated body-language alone he could tell I was troubled by something.

“What’s wrong?”

I hesitated to answer. “I think I’m a little bit nervous about tomorrow.”

“Yeah? Are you scared?”

“No, I don’t think I’m scared, I’m just nervous I think.”

“Well, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”

A little defensively, “No, I want to go, I want to go skydiving. I’m going to go at some point in my life, so there’s no reason for it not to be tomorrow. I’m just nervous.”

And he said to me again, “I’m just saying, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to, you can back out. And it’s ok.”

My eyes lingered on his, trying to communicate what I was feeling without saying the words. All that came out was, “I don’t think that’s what I need you to say to me right now.”

“Oh.” He said. “What do you need me to say to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to pray for you? Would that help?”

Knowing my friend, I said, “Well, I’m sure Keith will pray tomorrow before we all go up, but, yes, I think that would help.”

He grabbed my hand and began his prayer by thanking God for the day, and for our time together, for Keith and our friendship. He prayed over the rest of our plans for the weekend. For himself to get everything he needed out of the men’s retreat he was attending. He prayed that I would have fun the next day, that I would enjoy every moment and that I wouldn’t be nervous. And then, without a peep out of me, he literally started naming every single specific aspect of the jump the next day, eliminating each of those fears, one-by-one as if he was checking them off a list,

“And God, we ask that you watch over Rachel and Keith, and everyone else skydiving tomorrow. That the weather would be clear and perfect, that there would be no wind, that the plane would fly safely, that all the staff and instructors would be alert and focused, that all the equipment would perform as designed, that each harness and safety clip would function properly, and the parachute would deploy without issue, we ask for a safe landing….” Tears streamed down my face as I received his words and a peaceful calm settled over my spirit.

I thanked him for praying, and he hugged me for a long time.

“Feel better?”

“Yes! 100%!”

“Not nervous anymore?”

“Nope. Not one bit. I’m pumped!”

He left the room and then I started to think about how sly the devil can be, how he uses the most strategic offenses to wage the warfare where he knows he can win – in our minds. Not only was he was trying to stop me from living life. From experiencing something new and invigorating. From creating a lasting memory with some of my closest and most special friends. But, from living boldly and confidently.

I thought about how conniving he had been, how he had slowly watered and pruned those thoughts as soon as they had been planted in my mind from that video.

What if I had listened to him and not gone? What if I had let those thoughts overtake me and given life to those fears, given life to death, given it permission to come for me that next day?

The tongue is a “small part of the body” (James 3:5), yet Proverbs 18:21 says it “has the power of life and death.” This holds true whether we’re speaking of spiritual, physical, or emotional “life and death.”

And that’s when I got mad. How dare he?

I have already conquered this area of my life so many times and in so many ways. I have already learned to control my thoughts and mind my words. I mean, this is beginner faith stuff. I learned this a looooong time ago. There is a whole chapter on it in my book for crying out loud!! How dare he work his way back in there? Satan is not welcome in my mind.

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And then I saw how easy it was, how quickly he worked back into that driver’s seat, darting my thoughts all over the place. How rapidly I spiraled down that dark, dangerous rabbit hole. And I was reminded again how vitally important it is to constantly be renewing and guarding my mind. It’s not a one-time thing. It’s an every day thing.

And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God. (- Romans 12:2)

I felt like Vince Lombardi was standing in front of me, pigskin in hand, uttering, “This is a football.” The basics. The basics are the basics for a reason, in sports or faith or any other arena of life. They are building blocks, the foundation on which we build [the rest] upon. And if your foundation starts weakening, it won’t be long until your whole house crumbles.

Now am I saying it was God’s “will” for me to go skydiving? Maybe I am. I don’t know. But I do know it is NOT God’s will for me to live a life of fear and timidity, weak and limited, a life of mediocrity.

God has created and called each and every one of us to a life FULL of adventure, of taking new ground, of winning battles (even if they are just in our minds), and of doing it all for and with and because of Him. Because he has empowered us to do so.
And don’t you forget it. The next time those voices of fear and uncertainty start to creep in, silence them quickly before they paralyze your faith. Because if you don’t, you’ll miss out on awesome stuff like this:

Voices at the Bottom

When we go through dark seasons in our lives, there is a little voice that comes and whispers in our ears, “You are the only person going through this. You are alone. No one else will understand.” And so we withdraw from the world, and keep our problems to ourselves.

The more people I meet who open up and share their stories with me, the more I realize there is ALWAYS someone else going through, or that has gone through, EXACTLY what you’re going through.

You are never alone.

That is a cleverly designed lie to drive you into shame, isolation and depression.

Do not listen to that voice.

to my daughter

The New Guy

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They recently moved my desk at my office. I’m only there for a few hours every couple weeks, so it’s not a huge deal, I’ve been moved several times. I’ve been put in the middle of administrative assistants, and customer service, and for a long time I sat with the marketing department.

argaret Lauren This time, they moved me right in the middle of the sales floor, so I sit right behind a [brand] new guy, who has just gone out on his own. I hear him making cold calls and it’s….well, rough, and it’s awkward, and I know he’s struggling…. I have to fill in the other side of the conversation in my mind, but, I know they are telling him no, blowing him off. But he keeps asking questions and he keeps dialing. I haven’t heard anyone make cold calls since I was in that position myself when I started at TQL 6 years ago.

Last time i was in, I leaned in close while I was walking by and whispered to him “You’re doing a great job, keep it up.”

Hearing him again today, I can hear the marginal improvement and the slight increase in confidence he’s gained (not saying i had anything to do with that), but he’s still getting his footing.

I don’t know if he’ll make it at TQL, but I do know he’s learning some great lessons for his discipline .png life right now, the most of which is to not take no for an answer, and not to give up. He’s learning perseverance and persistence, he’s learning to relate to people from all walks of life, from all parts of the country, different nationalities…. he’s learning that only he can motivate himself, no one else is going to do that for him, no matter what he decides to do.
By sticking with it and pushing through, he’s earning his own self-respect, which is the most valuable asset of all. Hearing his relentlessness warms my heart.

Good luck new guy! I hope you take everything you can from this experience and remember these phone calls for the rest of your life.

The List

When I was 16, some well-meaning mentors of mine recommended I make a list of the things I absolutely wanted in my husband, from physical attributes to character traits. Four typed pages and 160 bullet points later, I had what a “perfect spouse” looked like to me down on paper. Things like: 2-5 years older than me, 5’8” to 6’2” tall, dark and moderately-short styled hair, nice abs, no visible tattoos or piercings, strong Christian example & leader (or striving to become), passionate with a clear, concise dream/goal/calling, makes me laugh, takes me on picnics, notices & remembers “the little things”…. you get the point. Some valid, some negligible, some ridiculously adolescent.

The good that came from this exercise is it made it very easy for me to date, as soon as I would see something in someone that was a non-negotiable on my list, I would walk away from them before I got emotionally attached or invested.
They didn’t make it through the filter, I told myself.

The negative part of this exercise was that I trained myself to see the imperfections in every potential suitor I met, without considering my own short-comings. And to keep seeking a fallacy who didn’t exist.

“In the history of the universe, there has been only one perfect person. He remained single all his life and died young. The rest of us are imperfect creatures, deeply flawed, struggling to find our way through the complex maze of relationships and choices we encounter. We make mistakes, we learn and grow, we adapt and move on.” Dave & Lisa Frisbie begin their book, “Happily Remarried” with this poignant thought.

My husband and I chose to open our wedding ceremony with the same quote because it is such a paradigm shift on how to look for a marriage partner. When you begin with this foundational building block in mind – that we are all flawed – then you seek a spouse and maintain your relationship with an unprecedented level of grace. Knowing that no one is going to be perfect, when your partner misses the mark, it’s ok. It does not mean they are defect and you must now walk away, or if already married, live with the miserable knowledge that you chose the “wrong one”.

Author Stormie Omartian offers some additional advice on this, “I think if I could help a new wife in any area, it would be to discourage her from coming into her marriage with a big list of expectations and then being upset when her husband doesn’t live up to them. Of course there are some basics that should be agreed upon before the wedding date such as fidelity, financial support, honesty, kindness, basic decency, high moral standards, physical and emotional love and protection. When you don’t get those things, you can ask for them. When you still don’t get them, you can pray for them. But when it comes to specifics, you can’t require one person to meet all of your needs. The pressure to do that and fulfill your dreams at the same time can be overwhelming to a man.

If we try to control our husbands by having a big list for them to live up to and then are angry and disappointed when they can’t, we are the ones in error.”

In “Saving Your Marriage Before It Starts”, Les & Leslie Parrott quote a divorce attorney who once told them, the number-one reason two people split up is because they “refuse to admit they are married to a human being.”

“In every marriage, mutual hope gives way to mutual disillusionment the moment you realize your partner is not the perfect person you thought you married. But then again, he can’t be. No human being can fill our idealized dreams. A let down is inevitable,” the couple says.

The remedy for all of this is keeping the right expectations going in to marriage. But don’t take my word for it, I’m not the expert. I recommend delving further into the methods and advice these authors recommend in their books. You can never be too prepared for marriage.

To put the gravity of this in perspective, here’s the Introduction to “Saving Your Marriage Before It Starts”:

“In the 1930s, one out of seven marriages ended in divorce. In the 1960s, it was one out of four. Of the 2.4 million couples who will get married this year in the United States, it is predicted that at least 43 percent will not survive. For too many couples, marriage has become ‘till divorce do us part’.

Every couple marrying today is at risk. More than two-hundred thousand new marriages each year end prior to the couple’s second anniversary. After they toss the bouquet and return the tuxedos, couples often assume they’re headed for marital bliss. But a study of those who recently tied the knot revealed that 49 percent reported having serious marital problems. Half were already having doubts about whether their marriage would last.

The truth is, most engaged couples prepare more for their wedding than they do for their marriage. The $50-billion-a-year wedding industry can testify to that fact. ….More than one million copies of bridal magazines are sold each month, focusing mainly on wedding ceremonies, honeymoons, and home furnishings – but not on marriage itself.”

Here’s a more beneficial list for preparing yourself for marriage. The most helpful books I’ve read on the topic so far:

“Saving Your Marriage Before It Starts” by Les & Leslie Parrott (there is also a 2nd marriage version)
“Things I Wish I’d Known Before We Got Married” by Gary Chapman
“Love & Respect” by Dr. Emmerson Eggrichs
“Personality Plus” by Florence Littauer
“The Five Love Languages” by Gary Chapman
“His Needs Her Needs” by Willard F. Harley, Jr.
“Captivating” by Stasi Eldridge (the men’s counterpart to this is “Wild at Heart”)
“Happily Remarried” by David & Lisa Frisbie
“Marriage, Divorce & Remarriage” by Kenneth Hagin
“Second Marriage” by Richard B, Stuart
“The Power of a Praying Wife” by Stormie Omartian
“Men Are Like Waffles, Women are Like Spaghetti” by Bill and Pam Farrell
“The Invisible Bond” by Barbara Wilson
“1001 Questions to Ask Before You Get Married” by Monica Leahy (this is fun to use on date nights and talk through together)

Resilience Defined

Someone once told me I was the most resilient person they’d ever met. After my divorce I set out to study that word and embrace it. I couldn’t find any definition that encompassed the full value of the word to me, so I wrote my own:

Resilience (Noun) – /rəˈzilyəns/
the ability to bounce back, return, or rebound after deterrence or defeat. Buoyancy.
To push through, unscaved and un-slighted, any circumstance or situation.
To proceed with resolute determination, giving no regard to attempted diversions,set-backs, let-downs, heartbreaks, poor judgements, unkept promises or disappointments.
To recover quickly from illness, change, or misfortune.
The ability to spring back after initial plans or anticipations fall through.
To remain standing upright in the smoke-clearing of the battlefield.