Wonder. Do you have it?

Last year ruled.  In my list of 35 years on this planet, 2015 was an incredible one.  My relationship with the Lord is more tangible than before, my marriage has become a true partnership, my love of being a parent has deepened, my friendships are constantly becoming more honest and important to me, and physically I dropped some pounds and became even more capable of picking pounds up (bench is up to 100 lbs -  no big deal). 

Now staring at 2016 I sit back and think, “God…what would You have me to do this year”.  I love to have a Word of the Year and because I tend to be a thinker and dreamer, but a bit less of a doer I wanted a word to inspire and motivate me.  A couple words floated around in my mind but they were all too harsh: accomplish, execute, get your assss off the couch and go do something…

Then on a trip to Tahoe in December as I gazed out on hillsides saturated with heavily snowed-on trees and watched golden sunsets fall on a bright, beautiful lake I settled on a word that God breathed into my mind and heart: WONDER.  

There’s something easy and naive about that word.  It’s curiosity and adventure.  And I need that.  

I’m a stay-at-home mom and after five years of becoming more of a homebody than ever before with my two babes I really miss the world.  I miss the view of the valley from the top of Table Rock mountain.  I miss the smell of the Rogue River as I’m sitting on the bank watching my family skip rocks.  I miss the earthy smell of a forest hike, the salt and wind of the ocean and the beautiful, calm quiet that comes with fresh snow or a blacked out sky dancing with stars.  

And experiencing God…

Nothing, nothing, no church or sanctuary I’ve been in can compare to the beauty of God’s creation.  The moments I feel Him are more often than not when I’m outside, where I’m fully alive and human, and am experiencing the wonder of this planet in some way.  It’s sitting around a campfire, glancing up at stars, sipping spicy tea and laughing with friends.  Or standing on the shore of the ocean, looking at 30 different shades of blue, letting waves slowly creep up to circle around my ankles, smelling salt, feeling the wind and hearing that mesmerizing sound of wave after wave crash.  It’s gazing out as a peach sky frames in the mountains of the Applegate Valley, the (good) smell of farmland waves through the windows and the only thing louder than the wind whipping through the car is the stereo pumping out Zac Brown Band, Coldplay or James Bay.  It’s circling through the redwoods and glancing up at the green and brown giants whose tops I can’t begin to see and yet all have the same mission - pointing to the One Who made them.  

This year I’m diving headfirst into that.  Into exploring this world that’s full of wonder and invites the mind and heart to go beyond what they have seen or known.  It’s a chance to see and feel and experience how deep, how wide, how great IS His love for me. 

xx

Times they are a-changin'

Sitting here on the eve of my 35th birthday and having bumped into a friend from high school a couple nights ago while at a restaurant we joked about not feeling old.  And obviously, I’m not…compared to a 60 year old. But compared to a 21 year old…well?

And that’s what causes me to pause and think about how slowly and stealthily change has crept into my life in different ways: some funny, some interesting and some have me a little wary.  

1. I can’t shop at Zumiez anymore.  It’s just the way it is.  Having grown up in the 90’s when surf / skate / snowboarding was everything and any guy that was worth looking at was doing any or all of those things - I hope you can understand the sadness of this particular situation.  But that easy, breezy southern California style that has so faithfully carried me through most of my adult life - vintage tees, tight jeans, little sundresses - it’s just not gonna work anymore.  I never thought I’d grow out of it, but I honestly prefer a little more *ahem* grown-up look.  Granted trends have changed and all of that, but the last time I was in Zumiez looking at the sheer tees and hoodies, I felt myself having to breakup with it.  And it made me a little sad.  
2. Gray hair.  It’s happening.  I discovered my first looking in a mirror after washing my hands in a bathroom at the Woodburn Outlets.  And not just one…like 14.  Soooo, there’s that.  Hair appointments are now every 6 weeks. 
3. On that same Woodburn / Portland trip, my girls and I headed out for a late evening snack - donuts.  Our hotel was right next to Voodoo, so we skipped down to the lobby in our sweats and over a block to stand in line for that hit of sugar and fat.  Coming back into the lobby with our pink box of deliciousness we hit the elevator button to go back up to our room and when the door opened a slew of people came out.  They were all dressed to the nines, short, tight, sparkly dresses on the girls (who may or may not have been hired - truth) and the guys were all in black, clean lines and smelling really strongly of Paco Rabanne.  Carla, Codi and I looked at each other and happily passed them by, got in the elevator and rode up to our room.  I’m at that point.  The “I’d way rather sit in my hotel room and eat some donuts than get dressed up and go to a club” point.  No question.  And this comes from a girl who at age 21 was going to clubs on weeknights.  Again - truth.  
4. You know the running commentary of slight judgement against humanity driving that you have going on in your head most of the time?  Well, mine has always sided with those of the younger generation and most of my head shaking and occasional fists of fury (when you stick your arm up and shake your fist at whomever has upset you - it’s a Jenny Skudstad gesture) has gone towards senile drivers: they’re just bad at driving the speed limit, parking, navigating parking lots, using their turn signal too early, etc.  However, now I find myself thinking that maybe, MAYBE they’re actually the wise ones.  Sure, they don’t seem to notice others, but for the most part they’re being cautious with their speed, reeeeeeally making sure you know that they’re going to be turning a corner and forgive them for holding up traffic for 10 minutes just so they don’t have to park further than 4 spaces away from the entrance to a store.  If I had a bad hip I’d probably do the same.  It’s the youths now that “drive” me crazy.  GET OFF YOUR PHONE!!!  And slow down.  And use your turn signal.  And turn down that rubbish music you’re listening to.  See?  I’m literally turning into a geriatric as I’m writing this.  
5. I love a good, early bedtime.  Currently it’s 8:22 and I’m fully in bed and ready to shut things down within a half hour.  Gone are the evenings of 11:00/11:30 bedtimes because ohhhhh my goodness, if I had to go to bed that late and fully function as a parent / adult / wife / friend the next day - not good.  It’s not gonna be good.  
6. Playing cards with my friends is a perfectly acceptable way to spend a morning.  It reminds me of “I love Lucy” and how she and her friends used to play Bridge.  We don’t play Bridge, but if we learned it we might.  It’s a fun little scenario: four or five of us, looking at our cards and gabbing over coffee.  We’re the Golden Girls.  
7. Coffee is not so much a choice of beverage I have in the morning.  It is one of my lifelines.  I almost cried one morning because it was 10:30, I was feeling sluggish and tired and couldn’t figure out why until it dawned on me that I hadn’t had coffee yet.  Tears of joy, people, tears of joy. I don’t drink a lot - one cup, maybe two, but oh my goodness, it’s one of my favorite rituals of the morning.  

It’s fun and funny to see where the Lord has taken me.  So, here comes 35 and I’m not gonna fight it.  I am one to embrace my age. Birthdays aren’t a painful reminder of an inescapable truth of life - they’re a celebration of a person, and I love where life has me at this point.  Cheers to this next year.

Gifted and Called. Yes, you are.

It is all the rage nowadays to be nurturing your unique gifting and making it your calling.  People are chasing their dreams, taking life by the horns and rocking it.  It’s happening all around me and sometimes I’m in that group, but other times I doubt.  Anyone with me on that? What I love about being saved though is having Scripture to lay out life - and this passage does exactly that for me.  

Colossians 1:9-12 (The Message)

We pray that you’ll live well for the Master, making him proud of you as you work hard in His orchard.  As you learn more and more how God works, you will learn how to do YOUR work.  We pray that you’ll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul - not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory-strength God gives.  It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that he has for us. 

It says to be working hard in His orchard.  It drives me crazy is when people align being in ministry to working in an actual church setting.  There are a lot of people doing exactly what God called us to do - love God, love people - in settings outside of the church; does that mean they’re doing anything other than working in ministry?  I’m a full-time mom, but I believe I’m working in ministry just as much as any pastor, teacher or evangelist.  And God’s orchard, to me, means that which He is tending to: His people.  And who are His people?  All of them - all the people.  He loves ALL of them, both inside the sanctuary and outside on the corner. So, is what you love to do, is what you’re naturally gifted at being utilized in a way that is loving and blessing people?  Also, it says working hard.  There’s a difference between punching in your time card and browsing Facebook for 4 out of the 8 hours of your workday versus actually putting your mind, passion and quality time into what you are doing.  I want to be the latter.  Fully investing myself in what’s in front of me.  As a friend of mine would say - “Don’t half-ass it, full-ass it”.     

The passage also says to keep learning more and more about how God works because that will translate into how you do your work.  Pretty self-explanatory.  I never want to stop pursuing a friendship with Jesus.  Learning more about Who and how He is will only influence me in my life to be less selfish, more giving, less judgmental and more kind.  

Next up, stick it out when it gets hard.  Life isn’t easy and following any particular path into a bright future isn’t going to just happen.  You HAVE to put in the work.  At the gym I go to they have workouts on a board with specific reps written down that you need to follow.  These reps aren’t a suggestion.  They aren’t a starting off point for negotiation.  You do ALL of them.  Because you want to get better and stronger and faster.  If you don’t do all the reps you’re cheating yourself and you’ll end up wondering why your body isn’t changing and you can’t keep up with everyone else.  And I get it, coming in last sucks, and I come in last frequently.  Or at least I used to. But I kept my head down and have worked really, really hard and now it’s a 1 out of 4 situation when I’m bringing up the rear.  Because my body is truly changing.  And at this point I know it’s a genuine victory, not one that I happened to get lucky in. 

Fourthly, through the hard work recognize change happening - maturity perhaps.  Humble confidence.  The kind that doesn’t flaunt your gift every chance, but is wise and recognizes when to take risks and when to hold off.  The appreciation for your work growing and the thankfulness for God’s grace in helping it reach new depths.  Becoming stronger and recognizing God in the work changes it from grit-strength to glory-strength.  It’s a foolish notion to look at someone that is in a position that you want to be in and think that they got there easily.  Sure, some did, but the ones that truly dig in and move your soul and have gravitas to their work - they struggled to get there.  It’s given them an undercurrent of character that draws people in.  

And lastly, getting to the point where you can enjoy everything bright and beautiful that God has for you.  Note, not relaxing, slipping your shoes off and saying “Ok. I’m done, I’ve made it.”   Cause the beauty is you’ll never want to stop evolving, growing, learning - if you’re doing it well and doing it right. 

So how do you know what your gift or your calling is?  I think there’s a pretty simple way to figure it out.  It’s a scene from one of my favorite all-time movies.  Whoopi Goldberg’s character, Sister Mary Clarence, is talking to Lauryn Hill’s character, Rita, about singing since the former loves it and has a sneaking suspicion the young prodigy in front of her is being resistant for foolish reasons.  Sister Mary tells Rita about an excerpt from a book called “Letters to a young poet” she read by Rainier Maria Rilke.  She looks Rita in her eyes and says this: “Fella used to write to him saying ‘I wanna be a writer, please read my stuff’. And Rilke says to this guy ‘Don’t ask me about being a writer.  If when you wake up in the morning you can think of nothing but writing, then you’re a writer.’ I’m gonna say the same thing to you.  If you wake up in the morning and you can’t think of anything but singing first…then you’re supposed to be a singer, girl”.  

What is it that you think about when you wake up in the morning?  Getting into the kitchen and coming up with a delicious recipe?  Sitting at your computer and writing down your thoughts on any particular topic?  Pushing your body to become stronger and more capable?  Living in a different country and holding kids that haven’t been loved on?  Capturing life through a lens that allows the beauty of God’s creation to be focused on?  Getting on your hands and knees and being present with your kids?  Taking the :30 that your customers are at your drive-up window to interact with them and give them a genuine sense of worth and love?  

Take what you’ve been given - that is your gift.  And do something with it - THAT is your calling.   

Laundry and sin. One and the same.

Let me explain how laundry works at my house.  In my closet there is a huge laundry bin that my hubs and I use to put our dirty clothes in and it gets full rather quickly and kind of lopsidedly (omg “lopsidedly” is an actual word; I was waiting for spellcheck to underline it in red and call me a moron).  I put my dirty clothes in the bin as soon as they’re dirty slowly filling it, while other parties *ahem* put them there once they’ve gathered enough dust on the side of our bed to become a health hazard.  Also, the amount of clothes each person contributes to this bin is not quite equal.  Again, not mentioning any names…4 outfit changes a day.  

I digress, every couple days when I go to start a load of laundry I have a hand-held basket that I’ll use to transport the clothes from our laundry bin down to the washing machine in our basement.  Obviously the hand-held basket is smaller so I can’t fit the whole bin of clothes in, just the top couple armfuls of garments.  Those get taken downstairs and put directly into the washing machine or if I’m really on a rampage I’ll take several loads in the little basket down in a row to get it all into a big basket I keep next to the washer.  

The only problem with this system is that there are two groups of clothes: those that get washed regularly and then those that don’t…for a long time.  The freshest clothes that just got tossed in our closet bin usually get washed within a day or so, but the clothes that are in the second half of my closet bin have a tendency to end up on a missing persons report because of placement. Only when I do the bin purge and then about 5 loads in a row do I end up finding these delightful shirts, workout socks and pants three weeks after I last wore them. 

I know this is a random comparison, but it really stuck out to me this morning and it’s that sin is kind of similar.  

There’s these areas of questionable choices that are everywhere right now and how we treat them can be so nit-picky it makes me want to punch a wall.  They’re the “Why one beer is enough if you love Jesus”, “Christian girls shouldn’t wear short shorts”, and “Seven ways to know you’re a better mom than every other person in your life” arguments.  These are the clothes that are freshly dirty, that always end up as the topic of conversation, that are always on top of the closet bin and are seemingly washed over and over but just keep ending up in the same spot.  

Picking apart a person when you haven’t walked in their shoes and don’t know their life is easy.  You can, on your expert authority and opinion, state exactly why they shouldn’t be doing what they’re doing or saying what they’re saying.  And I’m guilty of this - these topics can be tricky for me.  Because while what Scripture says and doesn’t say is clear, how I interpret that and how the Holy Spirit presses on my life can be different from others.   

Now...do I think you should get hammered every weekend when you have a role as a worship leader at your church?  No. But if you like the taste of wine and have a glass during worship practice - I think that’s totally cool.  Does Scripture say that booty shorts are not to be worn?  I don’t think “booty” is anywhere in the Bible actually.  But at the same time is that showcasing all that God has made you to be?  Is it being respectful of those around you?  Probably not.  The human body is incredible, but seriously when you post Instagram selfies of your stomach wearing jean cut-offs pulled so low I can almost see your pubic hair and you write about relaxing in the park with your Bible I WANT TO PUNCH YOU IN YOUR VAGINA.  And the mom thing.  Look, we all love our babies and they are a priority.  But you don’t know my life and I don’t know yours.  Let’s just leave it at that.  

Are these topics and countless others really addressing sin so much as gray area?  Meh.  All I know is that it’s all people seem to want to talk about and really I think there’s a much bigger picture that believers could focus all that passion on.    

Which is where that second group of dirty laundry lies.  These are the clothes aka sins that somehow remain under the radar, never rising to the top because they’re not trendy, just sinking down to the bottom becoming dirtier and stinkier.  It’s the internal stuff that is masked over and not regularly addressed.  It’s the insecurities, the hard headedness, the pride, the fear, the hatred, the anger - it’s all the stuff that somehow manages to sit in that freaking laundry pile for way longer than necessary because it’s able to.  It sets up shop under the popular fresh sins when it’s up in my closet basket and then gets uncovered temporarily when I do a load or really upended when I purge our whole closet bin into my little basket.  But even when the latter happens, sheer gravity puts those dirty clothes again down on the bottom of the basket in the basement and then they just sit there.  Fo-re-ver.  And it’s the stuff that matters.  The heart stuff.  The sins that are hard to deal with because it’s more than behavior and more than a thought or intent.  It’s looking hard at the truth, being honest with who I am, being humbled by the ugliness of my flesh and feeling embarrassed but also relieved that I am saved and my God loves me.  He knows me.  All of me.  And loves me big.   

What’s the solution?  Pretty simple. I need more Jesus. Cause laundry piles up.  There are distractions to this life and projects and so many things happening good and bad that can draw my attention away from this regular chore.  But I know if I just regularly did my laundry those gross dirty clothes wouldn’t fester.  If I were regularly washing myself in the Word then those dirty heart sins would still happen, but they wouldn’t be able to hide away.  The closer I am to Him the darker anything other than what He has for me shows up and is evident.  Now excuse me while I go start a load in the washer and listen to Jay-Z tell me to get that “Dirt off my shoulder”.  HOVA indeed.   

90 days

It's safe to say my food practices have changed over the last three months.  For starters, the amount of vegetables I've eaten in the last 90 days outnumbers the amount I've eaten in the last year.  This is not an exaggeration.  Also black coffee is now my jam.  I used to get an americano with a little honey and cream, but now - just black.  And it's smokey and bright and delicious.  Lastly - desserts.  My favoritest of all favorite things have been reduced to maybe 6 or 7 for the last three months whereas before that was easily my weekly allotment.

Here's the deal, losing weight is really simple.  I know there's countless magazines and diet plans and ideas about how to do it and what is best and what to cut out and what to eat and how often and how much and all the rest, but here's the basic truth:

Stop eating crap.

Work out hard.

Period.  Done.  That's it.

90 days ago I started on a nutritional reset with the help of the female owner of my gym.  Her name is Codi and she is one of my favorite people.  I love her.  She takes what she does seriously and her keeping me accountable forced me to think about it more intensely than I had before.

I had tried several different eating plans but this one seemed more structured.  Less gray area, cause when there's options I'll go DARK.  So I needed a plan with a strict outline of "yes" foods and "no, don't think about it or I'll cut you" foods.  I started March 1st and my starting weight and yes, I'm actually going to write this for the whole world to see, was a few ounces under 150 pounds.  That's roughly 143 pounds heavier than my birth weight, 52 pounds heavier than my weight when I graduated high school, 35 pounds heavier than my weight when I got married and 22 pounds heavier than my weight when I first got pregnant with Izzy.

The nutrition reset plan was relatively simple - cut out dairy, grains, fruit, sugar and processed foods.  All of it.  ALLLLLLL of it.  At first I thought it wasn't going to be that big of a change from how I ate because we don't eat a lot of pasta or rice and we axed dairy out of our diet back when Izzy was a baby.  Shouldn't be too tough.

Ha.  Hahaha.  Hahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahhahaha.

It has been without a doubt the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life as far as self-control is concerned. But oh, the results.

For one, walking past mirrors is awesome now.  I'm like "Oh, heeeeeeey, girl". Trying on clothes in a dressing room even if it's only fluorescent lighting - not the worst thing ever. Buying clothes two sizes smaller than before - whaaaaaaat?

And I don't want to sound braggy but it just is so simple. And people don't do it. They make eating healthy and working out the exception and not the rule. And that's not going to cut it. This is coming from someone who had that mindset for years and all I managed to add to myself was more pounds.

And there are my pictures.  Putting pics in this blog post proved to be a tad too difficult for my technologically challenged brain, so the three side by sides on my Instagram page are my front, side and back pictures from day 1 and this morning.

My weight this morning is just under 135, so I lost a full 15 pounds.  To some that might not seem like a lot, and to others that might sound like a ton - to me it was perfect.  But aside from the change in my body where I've really changed is in my relationship with food.  Don't get me wrong, I still really like it.  But it's not something that I've turned to for comfort in these last months.  It's not something that I've used in social situations as a buffer.  It's no longer a mindless act fueled by boredom.  Now it's fuel.  It gives my body the energy I need and believing AND acting on that knowledge is incredibly empowering.

Bottom line, if I can do this anyone can.  I have tried unsuccessfully for YEARS to lose weight.  The solution was really this simple though - make the choice and stick to it.  For longer then you're comfortable.  And for longer then is easy.  The payoff is ridiculous.

The grey.

Mornings like today are some of my favorites.  Sweeping my floors awaiting a visit from a friend I got a glimpse of a perfect snapshot: on my kitchen counter a white mug full of tea steeping away and producing a swirl of steam, my pigtailed daughter in the background sitting at the dining room table coloring, beyond that my quiet street lit by the sun, but shaded through the thick clouds that were heavy outside.  I like the grey.  This time of year is usually giving way from the cold and rainy to the blue and bright and most people seem to look for summer with baited breath, but I always feel like the heat could wait.  I know this next phrase probably makes me an outcast, but I'm cool with it - I don't really like summer.

It's too much of a good thing.  Sweating constantly under the hot sunshine, bees / bugs / mosquitos, slathering on toxic chemicals that probably cause just as much skin cancer as the vitamin D rays they're supposed to shelter us from, so much dirt on my children...everywhere...crowds of people and everyone's trying to do the same thing - stay cool.  I'm truly an inside in the a/c girl once the outside temp hits about 80.

Life's seasons can be like that too. A lot of times I find myself wanting summer from God.  Summer, summer, all the time!!  I want good and bright and happy and positive, and I want it now.  I don't want to be in the cold rain of confusion or pain for extended periods.  But as I was enjoying the beauty of this morning, I couldn't help but ponder the cloudy seasons of my life and the loveliness that lies within.

Take my marriage to the man I chose and who chose me.  Lordy Lord, we can get under each other's skin.  I have talked before about wanting a padded room so we can form tackle each other from time to time because we are complete opposites in so many ways.  What he calls "organization" I call chaos.  And what I believe to be "down time" he'd term laziness.  And those differences (and countless others) are tricky to work out.  How do you remain true to what you believe is right and try and push your partner towards seeing your view without the veins in your neck bursting or your eye twitching when you've stated and re-stated your point only to have it met with disbelief and even *gasp* eye rolls?!

Oh no, you didn't.

And then love that person in the midst of those disagreements.  I mean really love them.  Pick up after them, provide for them, give them good kisses, tell them they're important to you - it's tricky.  But those times when there's a storm cloud over the house, those produce the most beautiful work.  My grey sharpens his, like iron on iron.  And the sparks that fly off are magic.

And just like that the afternoon happens...and there's sun.  And it's my favorite kind of sun.  Because the clouds of the morning have been here it's tempered the heat, so it's now bright and beautiful, but it's also mild and breezy.  I could hang out in that all day.

Seasons happen, and I want to be thankful and hopeful and at peace in each one.  To find beauty in the unconventional and to find happiness when it's not obvious.  Because I know that God works in those dark and difficult places.  Usually it's where He shows up the most.  And how lovely is His dwelling place.

For 2015...

Isn't this week the best?  It's a week that's all about resetting your mind and body for the next year ahead.  There's clearing out Christmas clutter (love the holiday, but December 26th ALL decor is going down), breathing deep of the clear and cold air, and making resolutions in your heart and mind that will better your life and the lives of those close to you.  The only thing that would make it better would be if the 1st were a Monday. I love me a fresh start.

This last year my friend Amber encouraged me to pray about having a word of the year.  A word that I could pray about and ask the Lord to help me in specifically for 365 days.  For 2014 my word was "exceed" and man alive, did He ever.  Between my marriage getting literally a 180 degree turn-around, my heart on parenting being shifted completely, my physical body undergoing the best strength training and increase in mental focus and determination ever, and having a new calling arise and turn into an amazing opportunity for women to be together and love on each other in the Lord's Name - this year has truly blown my mind.  God has gone and done above and beyond all that I could ask or think.

So when it comes to a new year and a new word, I've been thinking of a few.  There's "pace": an idea that would shift me into taking charge of my time.  Right now I usually operate at either a frantic, break-neck speed that causes my children to be yelled at and my blood pressure to rise, or a completely chill scenario where I'm lazy and ignoring priorities.  "Be" has come to mind as well, the idea of being fully absorbed in whatever activity is happening at the moment.  If I'm working, then I'm working, if I'm playing with the kids, I'm playing with the kids, if I'm relaxing with a glass of wine, then I'm freaking relaxing with a glass of wine aka "I don't care if Charlie pooped her pants, she's going to have to wait a minuuuuuuute!!!".

But the word that I keep turning to, maybe because it's a lyric in one of my favorite Stevie Wonder songs, is lovely.

Lovely.  A word of many nuances.  It contains more character than beauty, more guts than grace, and more charm than kindness.  It embodies humility, warmth, and openness, and it places a picture in the hearer's mind of a person that people want to be near.

A lot of the words in that last paragraph don't really describe me *grimace*.  

I've always been better at truth, justice, and efficiency aka criticizing, passing judgement and trying to control everything.  Even if I'm doing something "loving" a lot of times in my head are non-loving thoughts.  To the driver that stopped obviously before me at the 4-way intersection that I'm politely waving across with a plastered smile on my face: "Come on, you freaking tard-hole, you were obviously there first".  To my husband as I come bungling out the door as we're late to church: "Look at you there in the front seat of the car, just drinking your coffee like you own the place.  Yah, don't worry, I got the kids dressed and fed and shoed and got myself ready and yah, just thanks."  To the family member that's 20 minutes late to a meal causing my main dish to get cold I'd say: "That's totally ok!  No worries", but really be thinking "Wench, you wouldn't be this gracious with me if I were 20 minutes late!!"  Gracious indeed.

How is a change so great going to happen?  Well, anything is possible with the Lord.  Anything.  And therein the victory lies.  It's being with Him more - "How lovely is Your dwelling place, O Lord almighty, my heart longs and even faints for You".  In His presence there is an unavoidable shift in your guts.  You can't help but take on His character, His loveliness.  That means doing more than just saying "I want to spend time with the Lord" - it's doing it.  My goal is 20 minutes a day.  Whether that's listening to a podcast (Levi Lusko at Fresh Life church is my favorite right now) or time reading the Word or putting on my noise-canceling headphones and listening to worship while looking out my front window as the sun comes up - it's time taken to be apart from my world and be soaked in His.

So, as I look to 2015 I pray that the Lord will manifest Himself in my life in a big way.  He's going to have to.  That way if I can showcase elegance and grace and genuine love towards my kids, friends, family, strangers - I will know it is not me, but He Who is in me.  Does this mean I won't use potty humor anymore?  No.  Does it mean that the f word won't occasionally slip out of my mouth?  Doubtful.  Does it mean that I'll look polished and put together at all times?  That's hilarious.

What I hope is that my natural instincts in any given situation will be to love.  Love truthfully.  Love graciously.  Love automatically.  Cheers to 2015, may this  year be your most lovely.