Archive for the ‘Life Lessons’ Category

Ruins

Sunday, January 16th, 2011

El Morro

Several years ago, my husband and I vacationed in Puerto Rico.

While I loved relaxing on the beach and watching the sun glisten on the beautiful Atlantic Ocean, there is one part of our trip that stands out as more of a highlight. After a few days of being nothing more than beach bums, Michael and I decided to venture off the resort property and explore the city.

We shopped, we ate and most importantly we toured the El Morro Fort. A mighty fortress during the Spanish-American war, the place was now run down and old. But the fact you could see old cannons, stand inside of former dungeons and explore what were once secret passageways, appealed to my curious and exploratory nature.

The place was in ruins. A shadow of what it once was. It’s only real purpose now was to bring in revenue as a tourist attraction.

As I followed the cobblestone path through the fort I couldn’t help but wonder about the men who once inhabited it. No doubt, many gave their lives on the ground I was standing on. What were their hopes and dreams? Did the victory they were fighting for ever come? If they could see how things turned out today, would they have considered the fight (and the cost) worth it?

Sometimes life leaves us in ruins. Somewhere along the way things don’t work out quite like we planned and we find ourselves mere shadows of what we once hoped to be. Sin, regrets, lost opportunities and many other things all combine to make us feel as if we never became who we were really meant to be.

Recently, I was looking through old photos and I came across a few from my day at El Morro. My favorite is a shot of my husband and I wearing smiles stretched across our faces while the fort stands tall, and the ocean glistens, in the background.

The thing that strikes me about the photo is the brightness of my smile. We vacationed in Puerto Rico during a very difficult and dark season in my life. Yet, there I was standing atop a pile of ruins—somebody else’s dashed hopes and dreams—and I’m smiling.

It made me wonder if the art of learning to smile when we’re standing atop our own pile of ruins can be learned. Is it possible to know joy even when happiness is elusive? Can a person still find an uncommon sense of contentment in the shadows of what she once hoped life would be?

Looking back, I think that’s exactly what I was learning to do during the time that photo was taken. While walking through the ruins of El Morro I was also walking through the graveyard of some of my own dreams.

It was there that I learned what Asaph was talking about when he penned these words:

 My flesh and my heart may fail, but God

 is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

–Psalm 73:26

If today is part of a season of grieving for you, if your dreams are in shambles, know this: God will be your strength when you have no strength. Even when you have nothing else to cling to, He will prove to be enough.

Let the ruins in your life become a beautiful memorial to the victory God wants to give you today.  

The Sacrifice of Broken Dreams

Sunday, January 9th, 2011

Sadness

I grew up near a duck pond.

On Saturday afternoons my dad and I would scour the grass for any un-hatched (and unattended) eggs and collect them. We had a custom built incubator at home, and in my eight-year-old mind I saw visions of ducklings dancing around my bedroom as fluffy new pets.

Every time we came across eggs, my dream was reborn in my heart. I would carefully handle the eggs, gently place them in a shoebox and squeal with excitement the entire way home. As soon as my dad placed them in the incubator I would perch myself in a chair nearby as I stared at the eggs willing them to hatch right before my eyes.

The problem was, none of my eggs ever hatched. We even took a few eggs (and our incubator) to some sort of scientific duck hatching specialist to see what the problem was. He assessed that the eggs we came across could have been unfertilized or underdeveloped.

All I understood was that I wasn’t getting pet ducklings. To say I was disappointed was an understatement. Visiting the duck pond was never much fun after that.

For years I forgot all about my childhood visits to the duck pond, and my accompanying dream of owning ducks. But recently, as I was venting some frustrations in my journal I wrote these words without thinking:

Sometimes I feel like I’m staring at God like He’s an egg in an incubator and I’m waiting for Him to hatch…

To keep reading click over to She Seeks.

One Word 2011

Thursday, January 6th, 2011

Enjoying the sun

Be.

That’s my one word for 2011. As in:

Be present.

Be thankful.

Be content.

 Be joyful.

Be peaceful.

Be patient.

Be kind.

Be gentle.

The list could go on but you get the point. Some of you may think I’m letting myself off easy because a word like be doesn’t require me to actually do anything. That’s exactly the point. I’m a Type A personality—a doer by nature. All of my life I’ve struggled with my tendency to base my worth on what I do.

At the end of last year as I wrote in my journal and prayed about what 2011 would hold, I felt like the Lord showed me He wanted me to focus on who I am and not on what I do. The areas He wants me to be mindful of this year pertain more to who I am and less on what I can produce.

2011 will be about receiving and not about achieving. For me, it’s going to be a year of surrender. Laying it all down like this is probably one of the riskiest things I’ve ever done. I like to be in control and there’s nothing further from control than a posture of surrender. Control demands holding on tight, and in this season God is asking me to fully let go.

In the final week of last year God began to show me that there are seasons of reaping and seasons of sowing. This is a season of sowing. Far less glamorous, and often devoid of results, seasons of sowing are sometimes difficult and thankless but absolutely vital to yielding a healthy gain in the future.

If I fail to embrace the season of sowing not only will I miss the rich lessons it holds, but I will also reap very little in seasons to come. You cannot reap what you have not sown.

Ecclesiastes 3:2 says there is a time to plant and a time to harvest.

2011 is to be a planting year. May my roots grow deep in rich soil so one day I will yield a plentiful harvest.

Receiving not achieving.

Learning to just be.

What’s your one word for 2011? 

Decluttering My Soul

Tuesday, January 4th, 2011

BibleBites

I spent the last week of 2010 cleaning out my clutter.

There was a lot of journaling and praying and fervently flipping through Scripture to find certain verses.

At the end of it all I felt like my soul had finally exhaled after a year of holding my breath. The truth is I felt like I spent much of 2010 under water. No matter how hard I worked, or how focused I was, I constantly felt behind. It was like I was swimming in a race but I kept sinking despite my best efforts.   Instead of getting ahead I could barely catch my breath.

By the time December got here I was exhausted. Usually I spend the last week of the year praying, planning and charting as I set my goals and resolutions for the year ahead. This year when I sat down for my annual date, I starred at the empty pages before me for what seemed like hours.

You see, 2011 isn’t just any year for me. I’m having a birthday in less than two weeks—a birthday that ends in a 9. It’s the last year for me to accomplish everything I wanted to achieve in the pivotal decade that has been my twenties. Crossing those last few things off my list would be feasible, but it would also be all consuming.

Internally I began to experience a tug of war.

Did I really want to exhaust myself in an attempt to achieve everything I set out to do when I was 20 or did I want to reexamine who I’ve become in the nine years since and see if different dreams and plans might be worth pursuing?

In a move that was somewhat surprising—even to me—I chose to let my list go. I mentally walked myself back in time and reacquainted myself with 20-year-old Shannon. She dreamed big. With a promising decade spread before her she cast her net wide. In nine years she was able to do almost everything she set out to do—and plenty of things she never imagined in her wildest dreams.

But the thing that struck me about her was how different she is from who I am now. I’ve lived a lot of life in that time and I’ve experienced devastating heartbreaks and thrilling victories that couldn’t have been foreseen at the threshold of my twenties. I’m still dreaming big and casting my net wide, but the things I want have changed.

Letting go of the initial blueprint I set for myself at the age of 20 isn’t failing. It’s growing.

I’m releasing old dreams so I can embrace new ones. My focus is now on being and not so much on doing. I’m more concerned with receiving God’s dreams for me than I am with telling Him about my dreams for 2011. For the first time in almost a decade I feel free.  

I can’t think of a better way to start the New Year.

New Lessons From an Old Cross

Tuesday, December 14th, 2010

I stole a cross last weekend.Cross 001

No, really. I did. But it was sanctioned stealing. The legitimate kind. My pastor was present and everything.

I was at a Christmas party and we played the gift game where everyone draws a number.

Early in the game I eyed a beautiful, sand colored, wrought iron cross. I’ve been looking for such a cross to hang in my bedroom for several months now. But every cross I’ve seen has either been too dark or too expensive. This one was just perfect. 

So I stole it. Since I was the second to steal it, the cross became frozen and I didn’t have to try and hide it from my friends with higher numbers. A lot of people were eyeing it, so I consider myself blessed to go home with it.

The interesting thing about it was the rules stated that nobody was allowed to buy something new to bring to the party. We all had to bring a gift we no longer had a use for that somebody else would like to receive.

My treasure was somebody else’s clutter. While I had the perfect spot for the cross, somebody else at that party no longer had a place for it.  As far as I was concerned, this gift was worth far more than the typical Starbucks card or candle I would have won if we’d been playing with new items.

Driving home I started thinking about the concept of what happens when we give what we can. Many times we overlook opportunities to give and bless others because we don’t realize we’ve already been equipped with the very thing they need.

A few weeks ago I was having a pity party about the fact I didn’t sign any new book contracts this year. Despite my best efforts, nothing materialized. As I complained to the Lord about not being able to share my gift of words with people this year I sensed Him speak to me.

Give what you already have.

What I already had was too many copies of God Called a Girl sitting in a box in my garage. Somewhere along the line, I wound up with far more copies of that book than any of my other titles.

So, I took a box full to the weekly Bible study I teach and gave a copy to each woman as my Christmas gift to her. At first I felt a little silly about it because it’s a teen girl book and I teach grown women.

But I decided to give what I had. I was surprised as women came up to me in excitement that night asking if I would sign copies for their daughters, granddaughters, nieces and babysitters.

So many of them exclaimed, “This is the perfect gift I’ve been searching for!”

They felt much like I did driving home from the Christmas party Sunday night: blessed because somebody else gave what she had.

This Christmas you might not be able to give as much as you’d like to. Some of your gifts might be creative or homemade. You may even find yourself avoiding certain people just so you won’t have to exchange gifts with one more person you can’t afford to buy for.

May I suggest an alternative to the stress and strain that comes with overspending or under-giving this Christmas season? Give what you have.

Your time might be just what somebody else needs this year. Or you might possess a skill that would really bless somebody else. Like me (and the former owner of the wall cross) you might even have something laying around your house that you no longer have a use for that would be a real treasure to one of your friends.

No gift is too small if it comes from the heart. Give what you can this Christmas.

To somebody it might mean more than you could dare to think.

Finding Jesus

Tuesday, December 7th, 2010

Nativity

Welcome to any new friends who found me as a result of Karen Ehman’s blog. (If you are one of my regular readers you may want to pop over to Karen’s blog for her 12 days of Christmas giveaway.)

The Christmas season is in full swing, and I’m beginning to feel exhausted just thinking about all I have to do before December 25th. Last week I found myself grumbling my way through my husband’s work Christmas party, and running 45 minutes late for a dinner party, and I knew my attitude needed some work.

While I knew I needed to change, I wasn’t quite sure how to implement something that would last for more than five minutes.

That’s when I was reminded of a game one of my sisters-in-law plays with her two sons this time of year. Every time they go into a store, they have a contest to see who can find Jesus first.

“Sometimes it takes awhile,” she says. “But we always find Him.”

I found myself pondering her words as I watched strangers parade around in ugly sweaters trying to get votes at my husband’s party while secretly wishing I could be at the women’s Christmas event at church the same night.

Could I find Jesus, even in my circumstance?

Yes. When I chose to examine why my husband and I were at this party in the first place, I realized God had blessed Michael’s business incredibly this year and He had provided for us in some amazing ways. Spotting Jesus in the midst of my holiday harrumph was enough to snap my attitude back into a posture of thankfulness.

In Jeremiah 29:13 God promises to be found by those who seek Him with their whole hearts. That means every time we look around God promises to be found. He doesn’t promise to change our circumstances to our liking, but He does promise to make Himself known to us.

What an incredible gift. It definitely doesn’t leave us any room to have a bad attitude.

Maybe you need a little change of perspective this Christmas season. Try what my sister-in-law does. Every time you enter a store search for Jesus until you find Him.

When you do, let it serve as a reminder that God always reveals Himself to a genuinely seeking heart.

Unplugged: Confessions of a Former Technology Addict

Monday, November 8th, 2010

iStock_000006119613XSmallA few weeks ago, I weaved my way through a busy crowd during the lunch-hour rush at my local Panera. I was meeting a friend I hadn’t had much time to connect with to catch up and say goodbye before she moved out of state to pursue a new job opportunity.

I spotted her across the room, gave a short wave and went to get us a table while she ordered for both of us. We only had one hour, which is never enough time when two friends have to give each other a rundown of the last few months.

We settled in quickly and began to talk fast. She went first, I followed and then we both took a quick breath and started shoving food in our mouths. About halfway through our lunch both of our phones started beeping and buzzing…

(To read the rest of this entry, click on over to She Seeks where I’m blogging today.)

Living Your Goodbyes

Friday, November 5th, 2010

gravesite

Death never comes at a convenient time. Even when you know it’s looming it’s still an unwelcome guest.  

Sunday my husband’s sweet grandfather had a massive stroke. He was gone within days. In between there was a series of phone calls inviting family members to come and say any final words.

This was Michael’s first time walking down the dark hallway of saying farewell to a loved one. Unfortunately, I’ve already passed this way on a few occasions. So, with tears in his eyes he came to me on Tuesday and asked a question we all grapple with at one time or another: How do I say goodbye?

He was contemplating what to say if he ventured to the hospital for one last look at a man he is named after. It was a question I knew I couldn’t answer for him. But I offered him a few thoughts from my experience of losing my own grandfather.

“Everybody does it their own way,” I said gently reminding him that I chose not to go to the hospital one last time to say goodbye to my own grandpa. Since he was no longer coherent, I chose instead to stand in his closet and smell his shirts so I could burn his scent into my mind as my final way of acknowledging him.

What I explained to Michael is that we don’t really say goodbye. We live it. For me, I knew a day was coming when my grandpa wouldn’t be here anymore. So I treated every visit like it was the last. When we played board games I made sure to call him out when he was cheating and laugh it off when he denied it. That always got him laughing too.

Every hug was treated like a last hug with an extra squeeze and a kiss on the cheek thrown in. My last visit with him, before he went into the hospital, was a good one. It was his birthday and I brought him a burger and fries from his favorite fast food place. My grandma is a good cook, so he didn’t get fast food often.

I chose to make my actions count every time I was around him. Every “I love you” was spoken when he could look me in the eye and understand what I was saying. My goal was to say goodbye well every opportunity I got so I would never find myself awkwardly stumbling over my words in a sterile hospital room or at a graveside.

Everybody grieves their own way. There is nothing wrong with hospital room or graveside goodbyes. But we would all do well to practice the art of living our goodbyes so we never find ourselves trying to make up for lost time in the final moments.

We only get one life, and for each of us the time is running out. Make every minute count. Make sure the people you love know it so you never have to wonder if you they did.

Don’t save your goodbyes for life’s darkest hours. Live them every opportunity you get.

That’s how you really say goodbye.

Have you ever had to say a painful goodbye? How did you find the words? Do you cling to happy memories to help you cope with a loss? What is your way of saying goodbye?

Lessons from a Starfish

Wednesday, November 3rd, 2010

Starfish Long

The orange burst of color jumped out and took me by surprise.

I was walking along the jetty watching sea lions play when something below the surface of the water caught my eye. A single orange starfish was clinging to a boulder a few feet away from me.

It was breathtaking.

The morning was overcast and there was a gray tone to the oceanfront setting. Everything around me was blue, white or brown. But there, nearly hidden from sight, was this bright burst of color that lit up the entire scene around me. I scrambled for my camera and silently hoped my mediocre photography skills could capture the moment.

In life we all have dreary seasons where it seems like we are pushing our way through shades of gray, white or brown. A little color could make a lot of difference in our perspectives and our attitudes.

Just as this orange starfish cheered a tired place in my soul, I realized I have the potential to be a bright burst of color in the life of someone who needs it. Bright things aren’t always big things, and in many cases they are actually small things that make a huge impact.

▪Quick phones call just to say hi

▪Handwritten notes

▪A favorite candy bar

▪Hugs with an extra tight squeeze

▪Time to listen

Little bursts of color. They can be the difference between a bad day and a good day. Used strategically they can turn an enemy into a friend. Small acts that mark big turning points.

Each of us have the potential to be like that starfish and make somebody’s day.

How has a “starfish moment” changed you? Was there a time when someone did something small that made a huge impact on you? Who have you blessed with an unexpected act of kindness recently?

The Difference Between A Dream and The Calling

Thursday, October 28th, 2010

veggie_bob2

Bob the Tomato spoke at my college graduation.

Well, technically, Phil Vischer was the commencement speaker. But he did do the Bob voice. So that counts, right?

It was 2003 and Phil had just survived the bankruptcy and collapse of the VeggieTales empire. There was something raw and courageous about the way he spoke. Everyone in the gymnasium sat on the edge of their seats as he repeatedly asked, and attempted to answer, his own haunting question:

What do you do when you have a dream, God shows up in it, and then it dies?

I was twenty-one years old. My first book had been published the summer before. Two publishers and a literary agent wanted to talk to me about my future as an author. In a few months I would be speaking at events on a major platform with some big names. All of my dreams were coming true.

Yet, I knew I needed to listen and pay close attention. Phil had learned some very important lessons about God and dreams and I wished desperately for a pen to take notes. Since I didn’t have one on me, I opted to purchase the CD of his commencement address and the book he later released detailing the same story.

I’ve thought of Phil Vischer often in the last seven years. During a season in my own ministry where it looked like my dreams were surely dead I pounded my feet to a treadmill as I listened to his commencement address again.

A few weeks ago, Phil was on Focus on the Family radio. When several people suggested I listen to the podcasts I knew it was time to revisit his story. This time Phil was further removed from the pain he experienced in 2003 and he was filled with even more wisdom.

He said something that struck me and seemed to answer questions I was still forming in the deep places of my heart. I don’t remember how he worded it exactly, but he said something like:

You can’t confuse the calling with the dream. You must ask God if each little, specific, thing is part of His will for you.

He went on to explain that he knew God’s calling on his life was to make life-changing movies from a Christian worldview. But, during the VeggieTales, years he quickly confused that with becoming the Christian Walt Disney. Phil was busy dreaming of feature films, spinoff toy products, and even an amusement park. God was only asking Phil to develop creative stories that would teach the Bible to kids.

As Phil expanded his empire he began assuming that everything that fueled his dream was part of God’s will. Eventually, he found himself in over his head with his dream going up in smoke. He lost it all. Everything Phil poured into VeggieTales was packed into boxes and sold at a bankruptcy auction.

After listening to Phil’s recent interview I sat down with my journal and a pen. I divided all of the things I am currently doing into one of two categories—The Dream and The Calling. With raw honesty I began to examine my own course of action and determine what I knew to be God’s will for this season of my life and what I just assumed fit with the big picture I had conjured up in my head.

The results were surprising. I challenge you to use the same exercise, especially if you are pursuing a large dream. In the meantime, let’s talk about this.  

What do you think of the Phil’s words about differentiating the dream from the calling? When have you confused the two? How can we do a better job at evaluating what really is God’s calling on our lives and what just seems like it would fit? In what ways can Phil’s mistake keep us from making our own?