90 Days Unafraid: Day 72, Volleyball Gods, Embracing Truth

Day 72. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of this year, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life as we countdown to 2020. Day 72: embracing truth.

Each week, they entered with game time intensity and furrowed brow. They entered with volleyballs in hand, knee pads in tow and eyes locked on the court. Their confidence was palpable. Their dedication, unwavering. Their badassery, unmatched. It was clear they had one thought: Game. Time.

For weeks, I had experienced their grand entrance. I had sat in the lingering presence of their confidence. From down the hall, I could hear the intensity of their play, the grunting, the loud shouting of active teamwork, “Mine! Mine! Mine!,” and the volleyball pounding the floor. It sounded like kill after kill, block after block, ace after ace. I had resolved in my mind, these middle-aged men were volleyball gods who most assuredly had played college ball at least.

Last night, I experienced their game from another seat—one with a clear view of the court. As they entered with all their usual pomp and circumstance, volleyballs in hand, knee pads in tow, eyes locked on the court and presence dripping with confidence, I looked at my daughter and explained, “These guys are the real deal!” Then, it happened….

”Mom, is he wearing his knee pads ON his ELBOWS?”

“Mom, what did he just do to the ball? I have never seen anyone hit like that!”

“Mom, what was that? How did he do that? Is that legal?”

Yes, my friends, these “volleyball gods” were HOR-RI-BLE, but they were sure blissfully confident while playing!

In that moment, I realized I had never actually SEEN them play. I had witnessed their confidence. I had heard their intense play, and my mind had filled in the gaps with greatness! As I sat observing their…participation in an activity that included a volleyball and took place in a gym with a net, I realized I fully believed a story I had crafted myself. I had embraced my false perceptions as reality.

On my journey, I have filled in the gaps many times—I have developed false stories and embraced them as reality. These stories make a lot of noise and they play with intensity. So much so, I can believe I have a clear view of the court, all the players and myself. Sometimes, I can even believe I am actually in the game. But no, these stories keep me out of the game, and the sounds and noises of all those kills and blocks, I always assume are the sounds of my defeat. These stories tell me my dreams are out of reach, beyond me, and I am perpetually ill-equipped. These stories speak of my deficiencies in a way that discounts God’s ability to empower me, equip me, strengthen me and provide for me through community. These false stories, with their relentless intensity, can keep me from fully living into truth of who I am and who God is and walking in obedience.

As I left, I delighted in their fun and chuckled to myself. This reality check came with an invitation to explore: What false stories am I believing about myself right now? Where do believe I am engaged in the game, when in truth I haven’t even seen or stepped on to the court? Where is God inviting me to embrace what is true about me and God and walk in truth boldly?

ACTION STEPS: Reflect, listen and pray. What false stories are you believing about yourself? How have these stories/lies kept you from actually stepping on the court and getting in the game? What is one simple step you can take today to embrace/walk in what God says is true about you?

90 Days Unafraid: Day 73, Burgers, Pancakes & Hats, Practicing Presence

Day 73. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of this year, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life as we countdown to 2020. This post reflects on yesterday’s goal. Day 73: practicing presence.

I awakened my children this morning and declared we would be heading out for brunch. I had big plans: a walk at a forest preserve, brunch at a new place, and a matinee. We would go to at least two new places. We would eat new, exciting food. We would see a movie, and DARN IT, we would enjoy it all! But all they wanted were burgers, pancakes, hats and me.

I overthink it sometimes. My achieving personality doesn’t automatically hit pause in my parenting. Days like today remind me that what they need most is for me to lovingly show up and be present. So we ditched the forest preserve and fancy eatery in favor of Denny’s where my son could order his favorite pancakes, my daughter could grab a burger, and the booths are perfectly suited for tabletop football. We ditched the movie for a trip to Target where we could look at hats. Oh, the hats!

Today, they didn’t want to do anything. They simply wanted to be with me, and to know I was fully present with them. So we ate, we tried on hats, we laughed, we were present to one another, and we were all better for it.

ACTION STEPS: We can all overthink relationships. Often all one really wants is for us to be with him or her in a way that is meaningful. Today, for my kiddos, it was burgers, pancakes & hats. Sometimes it is popcorn and conversation, and at other times, it simply reading next to one another.

Do you know how the people you love receive love best? A word of encouragement? Time together? An act of service? Small gifts? A hug?* Think of one small way this week that you can intentionally care for one you love in a way that is meaningful to them and act upon it.

*Adaptation of 5 love languages.

90 Days Unafraid: Day 74, Insomnia, Accepting What Is

Day 74. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of this year, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life as we countdown to 2020. This post reflects on yesterday’s goal. Day 74: accepting what is.

Cleaning, organizing, purging, reordering, assessing warm clothes, getting ready for winter that was how I was to spend Saturday, but insomnia kept me tossing and turning engaged in a battle in my mind. I wanted to control that which I cannot. I wanted to ensure other’s understood my love, my heart and goodwill, which had already been received, and now, of no doing of my own, had been brought into question. I wanted to press and prove who I was, but I had nothing to prove. I had already lived and loved well, and now, it was up to them to determine if they would receive their experience as true. The battle raged until 5:00a.m. when my body said, “Stop! Enough!”

Stop! When I said, “Go!” My body said, “Stop!” My day of planned productivity found me crashing into naps in the middle of conversations, reorganizing, reading, writing and perseverating on that which had kept me tossing and turning the night before. Again and again, a nap interrupted that which my mind would not let go, “Stop! Enough!” I would awaken and remind myself, “I have lived and loved well, it is up to them to receive their experience as true.”

As I sat in this power struggle, my years working alongside those in recovery ignited the mantra, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Yes, God. This. I needed this.

Recovering addicts understand power in a way I have witnessed in few others. Each day, they live in the keen awareness of these power dynamics. With presence and mindfulness, they intentionally choose to assess and act on their power—what is theirs to own, what is not, what is theirs to control, what is not, what is theirs to hold on to or make right and what must be released. For today, another day, I choose to lean into the ways in which my recovering brothers and sisters have discipled me, and I hold on to these truths as I work out my own addiction to the opinions of others. I choose to accept the things I cannot change, in courage, change that which I can, and pray through it all, God will give me the wisdom to know the difference.

ACTION STEPS: Often in life, exhaustion and burnout come because we are taking ownership and responsibility for that which is not ours to own. Are you owning more than you ought in this season? Are you seeking to control things that were never yours to control? Are you expending energy trying to rectify things you truly have no power over? You cannot do other’s emotional, physical or soul work for them.

Spend time praying Niebuhr’s Prayer for Serenity, sometimes referred to as the AA prayer, and invite God to help you to know where your power begins and ends and what you must trust to God.

Prayer for Serenity

God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time,
enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardship as a pathway to peace;
taking, as Jesus did,
this sinful world as it is,
not as I would have it;
trusting that You will make all things right
if I surrender to Your will;
so that I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with You forever in the next.

Amen.

Reinhold Niebuhr

Picture credit, James Coleman.

90 Days Unafraid: Day 75, My Friend Darci, Cultivating Community

Day 75. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of 2019, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life. Goal: cultivating community. 

Darci. She provided over 40 meals, more than 120 servings, over a period of 40 weeks during a year life was chaotic. She never asked for permission. She listened, knew what would help and took action. “I’ll leave your dinner in the fridge at church. You can grab it when you’re ready.” 

No makeup. Pajamas. Unwashed hair. She has seen me like this more times than I can count. Still when she sees me, she smiles, welcomes with a hug, and warmly says, “I’m so glad you’re here!” 

She is my brain when I lose my mind. She lifts me up, challenges me to embrace my dreams, has my back, and calls me out when I need it. She prays for me, empathizes with me in pain and emboldens me to walk in the strength. She listens to my stories again and again and again, without making me apologize for my need to process. She holds space for me, and she allows me to hold space for her. 

Darci was the first person to reach to me when friends moved away, loneliness set in and limited transportation and newborn babies fostered a season of isolation. There were no friends around the corner, down the street or across town when she courageously asked me, “Dinner?” 

She welcomed my family into her beautiful home. Anxiety in our eyes with two toddlers’ in tow, she warmly explained, “See all of these beautiful things? You and your children are more valuable than all of them. All of these things can be replaced. You cannot. So please, relax. Let your children play here as they would at home. Don’t worry about them breaking anything. Make yourself at home.” 

That is always were it begins and ends with Darci: “Welcome. You are valuable. You cannot be replaced. Make yourself at home.” 

• Welcome: ALL of you is welcome here.

• You are valuable: You are loved, and you possess worth and value before you do anything.

• You cannot be replaced: You are a treasure worth treasuring.

• Make yourself at home: Breathe deeply and bring your whole self to the table because we are in this together.

Who is your Darci? Who laughs with you? Who holds grace for you to grow, propels you forward through encouragement and invites transformation though transparency and accountability? Who speaks truth to you? Who has your back and stands with arms open wide, beckoning, “Welcome. You are valuable. You cannot be replaced. Make yourself at home.” 

ACTION STEPS: Take a moment to reflect on a friendship that has positively impacted your life. Why was it meaningful? Thank God for that friendship. 

Next, reflect on the current status of your friendships. Do you have at least one healthy friendship? If not, what is hindering you? Ask God to show you one simple step you can take to foster healthy friendships/ move toward community? Maybe there is no one around the corner in this season, but who is a phone call, text or vox away? Now, take action.

My dear friend, Darci. She makes me laugh until I cry. I love this lady.

90 Days Unafraid: Day 76, I'm Angry, Feeling All the Way Through

Day 76. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of 2019, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life. Goal: feeling all the way through. 

I’m angry. There are no sweet words to cover it. Fist clenching, teeth grinding, heart pounding, no filter left, someone hold me back, the gloves are off, angry. ANGRY!!!

My anger is warranted. “Anyone would be angry at this,” I keep telling myself. I know the resounding answer is “YES.” Still, I feel the need to defend, legitimize, and apologize for being ANGRY, but why? Because I was trained to believe that only beasts get angry. I was trained to make everyone else comfortable, and beasts don’t make people comfortable. I was taught to absorb—it’s always my fault, always mine to fix, always my error, and always mine to accommodate. I was told anger is to be confessed and repented of instead of thoughtfully examined, embraced and righteously deployed. I was taught to dull my sharp edges so no one could get hurt…so no one else had to change. 

When healthy anger is examined, embraced and righteously deployed, it can connect us with the truth (Yes this is indeed injustice.), initiate prophetic discomfort (That injustice you’re talking about makes me feel uncomfortable, why is that? What can I do?),and disrupt the status quo in the greater pursuit of justice, mercy, love, humility, mutuality or genuine reciprocity. So today, I embrace this anger. I feel it all the way through, not judging it, just receiving it. I welcome its disruption, its invitation to justice and its driving hunger for something more, something better. And no, it wasn’t my fault. I didn't cause it, nor do I need to apologize for it. My edges are a little sharp right now, and that’s okay, because today some things need to change. 

ACTION STEPS: Take 1 minute to breathe deeply and acknowledge how you are truly feeling. Don’t judge your feelings. Just name it and allow yourself to feel it all the way through. 

90 Days Unafraid: Day 77, Remembering Stillness, Practicing Presence

Day 77. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of 2019, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life. Goal: practicing presence.

“What is your full name? And your date of birth? Why are you here?” The questions came quickly as I sat feeling exposed in the sterile room, white lights glaring, barely wrapped in a paper thin hospital gown. “Would you like some socks? Here.” It was cold. “Again, there is no metal anywhere correct? Just your permanent retainer? Okay. Lay down and scoot all the way to the end of the table. I’ll get you a blanket. We want you to be comfortable.”

Comfortable? I lay still while they packed foam pieces around my head. They tightened a strap across my forehead and locked a brace around my neck. They placed a coil* over my head, leaving only a small grate through which I could see the glaring, white florescent lights with my “good eye.”

“We are going to do an MRI of your optic nerve, your brain and your cervical spine. We will do them with and without contrast. We will pull you out about halfway through to give you the dye for the contrast. You don’t have any allergies, right? Some people say it feels cold, others say it kind of burns a bit, and some people taste metal in their mouth. That’s all normal. Squeeze this ball if you need anything. The testing will take about 2.5 hours. We will need you to close your eyes. It will be hard, but during the tests on your optic nerve, you will have to keep your eyes still. This is very important. Do you understand?”

I looked at the ceiling one last time and closed my eyes as they rolled me into the tube. No music. Just the blaring, pounding, rhythmic pulsing of the MRI machine.Comfort? NO. Stillness? Yes.

As I lay there, I realized I could not remember the last time I had stopped to rest—to be still. Eighty hour work weeks had become the norm. And yet, as I contemplated the blindness in my left eye, and I feared the outcome for my vision in my right eye, I didn't care to see another expense report. I didn’t care to manage another program. I just wanted to see the faces of my children and my husband. How did i get to this place where so much of my energy had gone to my work? God, how did I lose focus so quickly on what is truly important? Comfort? No. Stillness? Yes. Stillness can be so disruptive.

Twenty-four hours later, I sat alone in a neurologist’s office. My husband was in another state completing his doctoral internship, eagerly awaiting my call. There I sat looking at the wall through blackness and haze.

The doctor walked into the room and sat at her computer without making eye contact. With her back to me, she began to read the MRI results aloud in medical jargon I could not comprehend. She read and proclaimed, “You have MS.” She read some more, and proclaimed again, “You have MS.” This happened three more times. “You have MS. You have MS. You have MS.” No eye contact. She paused. Stillness. Disruption.

She then turned and ordered me to stand up and walk heel to toe across the room, a task I had completed 100’s of times before. As I began, I fell to the floor. I stood and tried again, only to fall to the floor again. Why won’t my body do what I am telling it to do? That’s when she explained. “You have MS. A progressive, chronic, neurological disease for which there is no cure. Right now, you have optic neuritis, a swelling of your optic nerve, and you are in an active flare up. For the next week, you will go for steroid infusions each day. Hopefully, this will stop the flare up. After your treatment, your vision will continue to heal for 75 days. Whatever vision you have left at the end of 75 days is the vision you will have the rest of your life. Do you understand?”

Over the next week, I spent four hours each day in infusion. Over the coming weeks, the haze in my right eye would lift and the backness in my left eye, returned to white, then gray, then baby blue and pink. 75 days came and went, and God continued to heal my vision. Today, my left eye is impacted by a slight color fade and diminished depth perception, but that is all. I still have visual disturbances, however, that is just part of the disease.

I have been hospitalized many times since my diagnosis. Most days I am good, but some days I have lost my ability to walk. Some days I have lost my ability to speak. Other days, I have simply lost the ability to control my body. Each time, I think back to God’s faithfulness. Each time, as they pack the foam around my ears, tighten the strap across my forehead, and lock the coil over my head, I glance at the ceiling through the grate, I know God and I have some things to talk about. Sometimes it’s my anger and my questions. Sometimes it is my fear about the future or my fear that other’s will view me as weak or incapable. Sometimes I just need to listen. But always, it is an invitation to be present to what I am feeling, my own humanity, my desire for control and significance and my desire for more of God. Comfort? No. Stillness? Yes. Stillness can be so disruptive, so healing. “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.”

ACTION STEPS: Psalm 34:18, tells us that “The Lord is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 91 encourages us to find peace, covering and care in God’s presence in times of trouble.

Yesterday, we took a moment to reflect on where we have seen God show up in the midst of our troubles and losses, both now and in the past. Now, take a moment to sit with God. In stillness, what does God have to say to you about your present circumstance? If God is silent, we lean into what we know of God through scripture, community, history and our story.

No matter how dark your valley or how bright your sun in this season, God is with you, for you and still moving on your behalf. Open yourself to be present to the God who is already present to you. “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.”

*To see a coil, click here.

90 Days Unafraid: Day 78, Remembering Provision, Practicing Presence

Day 78. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of 2019, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life. Goal: practicing presence.

Six years ago, I went for a walk on a rainy day. My sight was fading, doctors weren’t listening, and I was terrified. I took deep breaths, filling my lungs with crisp Fall air, devoting to memory the smell, feel and sights of technicolor foliage. I slowed and examined, memorizing each leaf and the intricate ways its veins were magnified beneath each rain drop. “Lord, if my sight goes, may I never forget the beauty of this.” 

I returned to the warmth of my home and waited for help. Sometimes all you can do is wait and pray. Doctors denied referrals for second opinions, leaving me with the encouraging words, “Well if you go blind, we can do nothing about it. Come back next week if you’re blind.” Calls to our insurance company compounded the discouragement, “Your only option is to get your doctor to write you a referral for a second opinion. Without that, you’ll have to pay out of pocket.” Wait. Pray.

For more than a week, each night, I pulled the covers up to my chin and I wondered, How much of my sight will be left tomorrow? Each night I prayed. Each morning was a gamble. My right eye held a steady haze. However, in my left eye, royal blue faded to baby blue and red faded to pink. and then gray… and then everything turned white. Wait. Pray.

With nowhere left to turn, we called another ophthalmologist. They didn’t wait long enough to hear that our insurance would not cover our visit. They didn’t wait long enough for my husband and I to tell them we had no way to pay. They simply said, “This is an emergency. How soon can you get here?” Wait. Pray. Move. 

After three hours of testing, the doctor came to deliver her final report, “There is something very wrong with your vision, but you require an MRI. Stat.” Before we could speak, she paused, closed her eyes, and sat with her pen hovering over my paperwork. Silence. Awkward silence. Wait. Pray.

She opened her eyes, drew a large zero on the page and wrote, “No charge.” She knew nothing of me outside of that paperwork. She knew nothing of my faith. She knew nothing of our prayers for provision. As my eyes filled with tears, we asked her what she was doing. “Praying,” she responded, “God told me not to charge you anything.” Thousands of dollars of testing. No charge. Once she learned of our plight, she became our advocate, calling my doctors, ensuring we had any referrals and tests we needed so my care would fall under the coverage of our insurance. As she advocated and we waited for my MRI, my right eye held the steady haze, while in my left eye, white turned to black, and my vision was gone. Wait. Pray. 

ACTION STEPS: Psalm 34:18, tells us that “The Lord is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 91 encourages us to find peace, covering and care in God’s presence in times of trouble.

Yesterday, we took a moment to look at loss and life in our lives. Today, reflect on where you have seen God show up in the midst of your troubles and losses, both now and in the past. Write these things down. Talk to God about them. 

God doesn’t just care for you once and then cease to move again. No. Again and again, Scripture informs us, “I will be your God, and you will be my people.” No matter how dark your valley or how bright your sun in this season, God is with you, for you and still moving on your behalf. Today, as I reflect, I am present to the God who is already present to me and is present to you also. Wait. Pray. Receive God’s presence.

I took this picture during treatment.

90 Days Unafraid: Day 79, Remembering Fear & Practicing Presence

Day 79. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of 2019, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life. Goal: practicing presence.

Six years ago, I went for a walk on a rainy day. My sight was fading, doctors weren’t listening, and I was terrified. I took deep breaths, filling my lungs with crisp Fall air, devoting to memory the smell, feel and sights of technicolor foliage. I slowed and examined, memorizing each leaf and the intricate ways its veins were magnified beneath each rain drop. “Lord, if my sight goes, may I never forget the beauty of this.” 

As I walked and took it all in, tears dripped from my chin. Is today the last day I will see my children’s’ faces? Is today the last day I will see this: sky, rain, grass, earth. How does one remember the color green? Its vibrancy and life? How many colors have I never noticed before? How many smiles and lines in my husband’s face have I taken for granted? 

Today I hold this memory in my bones, the powerlessness, confusion, questions and fear. I acknowledge today, six years later, all the events of this week are still a part of me. I will be reflecting further on this throughout the week, but for today, I am present to myself and the needs of my own soul in the places and spaces of life that are beyond words. 

ACTION STEPS: In caring for people as a spiritual life and leadership coach, I often encourage them to “Look for the life and listen for the loss.” In a culture that rushes the process of grief, we can quickly get into a pattern where we have accumulated tremendous losses without ever really mourning. 

Take time to look at your life. Jot down where you have/are experiencing loss. Take note, have you mourned that loss? Are you still mourning? Then, take a moment to jot down what is currently bringing you life. If your list of losses greatly outweighs your list of that which is bringing you life, you may feel exhausted or find yourself in need of some additional self-care/soul care. For now, simply take note of loss you are/have experienced and life-giving aspects of your life. Take time to pray about what you find. 

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in Spirit.” (Psalm 34:18)

*We’ll be exploring these themes further this week. 

Each year as the leaves change, I remember this season. I pause, observe the leaves and the colors and take in their beauty. It reminds me of God’s presence with me even in the valleys of life.