a reminder from C.S. Lewis

In the last few months, it feels as though the somewhat typical headlines of world issues have radically expanded into unthinkable evil, terrifying disease, and global turmoil. I'm left wondering...from where does this heartache come and what could any one person do to combat it?

This morning, I found a sweet reminder. In his book, The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis writes:




The greatest evil is not now done in those sordid “dens of crime” that Dickens loved to paint. It is not done even in concentration camps and labour camps. In those we see its final result. But it is conceived and ordered (moved, seconded, carried, and minuted) in clean, carpeted, warmed, and well-lighted offices, by quiet men with white collars and cut fingernails and smooth-shaven cheeks who do not need to raise their voice.


Upon reading that excerpt, I was struck by the realization that questioning my own ability to make a difference actually hinders any action and results in an apathetic and stalwart attitude - that of a quiet individual in a well-lighted office who once had grand intentions to save the world but is far more comfortable in her uninterrupted space. In that solitude, I can force myself to disconnect from the call on my heart - to be here now, to love without fear, and to serve without condition.

We have been summoned into every corner. The clean and shiny corners with brand new MacBooks and bottomless free coffee. The dark corners filled with cobwebs and broken pencils, surrounded by lingering remnants of a once vibrant school. Wherever we are, we're there on purpose - to fulfill His call to love His people...all of His people.

reflection.

Before any birthday - regardless of the impending age - I get super reflective. I'm a smidge moody (ok, more than a smidge). The couch is my best friend. My journal gets a solid dose of script. And my heart wades through what's already there. After my birthday, I typically bound out of bed ready to take on the world. I've been given another day following an epic year. There's purpose in that! Charge on! (This is all said mildly obnoxious and loud, mind you). However, leading up to the day, I feel defeated, worthless, and stagnant. In really digging in to that imbalance, I'm reminded of the typical thought pattern that leads up to 9.12.

• I should be better at this by now.
• I should look like this as I approach ___ (insert upcoming age category).
• I should have completely nailed down that routine that includes lengthy quiet times and prayer sessions, care taking of those around me, healthy meals three times a day, challenging workouts, and a budding career.
• I should have spent more time with ____ (insert the 30 people I'm sure I've let down on any given day).
• I should be super secure, financially, instead of obsessing week over week.

There is a common thread in that list...the ever weakening "should." That word is powerful, only in its ability to make us feel powerless.  It keeps me from celebrating progress, reflecting on achievement, and standing in gratitude for provision. The shoulds of my life could very well outweigh the gems that shine in the dust around my feet. However, as this birthday approaches, I'm dousing my feet with the renewing water of gratitude that is bursting from my heart so that I may walk boldly - and in balance - towards a new decade.

Today, my thoughts are centered on the most tremendous decade I could imagine.

• I met Vegas for the first time, thanks to my sister's creative plan to christen my 21st birthday with the most unforgettable act of generosity (and full out fun).
• I graduated from the most incredible University that introduced me to my best friends and injected me with some Texas pride.
• We went to France and danced. 
• I stood by those Baylor beauties on their wedding days...the most phenomenal honor.
• I left Texas (much to my dismay) and moved to North Carolina (much to God's provision).
• I met a boy. 
• I found my big girl panties and started working.
• I quit working and went back to school.
• That cute guy from the football game took me back to where we first met, and asked if I was up for a lifetime together.
• We bought a precious little townhouse in my favorite city on planet earth.
• We adopted a fur child.
• I went to a cookout with my sister and met this boy she really liked...and I totally approved.
• We moved to Canada. 
• I joined a really rad team of people that would take me on a near three year journey of adventure and learning.
• The boy from the cookout went to D.C. and asked my sister to change her last name.
• We moved to Charleston.
• I hopped on a bike and fell in love with the ride...then decided I wanted to teach that ride.
• My work bestie and I launched a goal coaching biz.
• I sang my sister down the aisle.
• I left that team of people to start building up businesses, the first one being our family business.
• We bought our first single family home.

A modge podge of memories.....

And that's the short list. Sure, there were some unexpected parts of the journey - some of which were too painful to recount. And yet, those valleys made the journey so much sweeter and His grace so much clearer. My twenties were, in a word, spectacular. As I look ahead to a new decade, I am clearing away the temptation for "a clean slate," because I would never trade a single moment - challenging or not - from this last year or ten years. Each moment was on purpose, and from them I take the lessons embedded from which I will grow and flourish. 

As Friday draws near, it's time to dive head first into my vision and goals for the next ten years. Pop back in Thursday, my friend. I'll need your accountability to make the next decade even more spectacular!

With love,

Parker

grace forgotten.

In recent months, I find myself addicted to the mountain top. I'm worn out, and I'm searching for a weekend retreat...a conference...an anything to reenergize my soul and sift through what is sitting on my heart. I find it once, and I go after it again when the road gets long. Hear me when I say that I find radical value in weekends away, so these words are not intended to diminish the impact and purpose of those times. My husband and I travel to a Weekend to Remember once a year and have committed to do so until the end of our lives on earth. (it. is. awesome). So yes - I love a solid conference to challenge our thinking, dig into difficult topics, and ignite a new level of commitment to a life well lived. What I am saying is that my tendency to reach out for a "weekend fix" is rooted in other matters of my heart and, I believe, symptomatic of a broken world.

I'm knee deep in life, because I don't live it any other way. For a few weeks, I go full out, 100 MPH, and then collapse into a willnotmoveforthreedays mode, which my sister refers to as "sleep camel." In recent months, my faith has taken a similar path. I live with full intensity, unbridled passion, and "all the right words" until my lack of authenticity catches up with me thereby sending me into full on introversion coupled with a hefty dose of guilt and shame. I can't articulate where I sense struggle, and in few places do I feel safe sharing my thoughts (though most know me as radically vulnerable...more often than not, that's a show too). While I thought my multiple-per-week Bible studies and consistent church going were the perfect antibiotic to their loitering tendencies, decade old skeletons have found their way back to my heart.

All of the above was brought to a head this week as the world launched into discussions around depression as a choice or a disease. Anyone who knows me well understands my fury towards those who pretend to comprehend the disease and my sadness for the broken hearted caught up in and pointed at in the dark abyss that is depression. So the questions I find myself asking this week: where is the Church within this battle for our hearts? When was grace forgotten?

In my lifetime, only three church bodies have opened up their doors to receiving and taking on what plagues the lives of its congregation. My first true introduction to radical acceptance through a grace centered life - within a church body - came from Redeemer Presbyterian in Waco, TX during my second week of college. In that body of believers, I found connection, relationship, and authenticity. There was no judgement, no legalism, no effort to achieve favor required...just wholeness, in that very moment, through the work of Christ. My parents' teaching primed my heart to receive that good news, and I am eternally grateful that He laid the path for me to find His grace and relish in it, deep in the heart of Texas. :)

Of my friends who do not attend church because they find no peace within its walls, I ask why. 99% of the time, the responses center on a past memory of a pastor or member of a congregation who ridiculed, shamed, or abandoned the individual. Immediately, he or she associated God's response with those of the people in the church. If we fail, He judges us. If we do wrong, He shames us. If we are honest, He leaves us.

In our humanness, we are broken. From our inability to fully grasp the Trinity, we project our human experiences on a Divine God, and we cannot see the Grace with which He disbands our shadows and paints new light. We condition ourselves with motivation to perform instead of inspiration to create. And we breakdown. We judge those who are hurting. We abandon those in need. We fail one another who ask for love. I do it. Everyday...intentionally, unintentionally. I'm human. I'm broken. I fail. Yet His banner of Grace is wider than my weakness. His mountaintop is sustained. It is not a fleeting emotion of belief but a rooted knowledge that He is there - unmoving, unshaken, and unwavering. He beckons His own, in whatever state we are...wherever we are...we are His.

True Redemption is found only in the sacrifice of our Creator, Who loves deeply enough to give His all, just so He can have you. Let us all remember our worth in Him, so that we can love one another in that same manner in which He loves us....in whatever condition we may be.

a new view

When is it time to say yes to a new view? What triggers a distinct recognition that something in life needs to shift? What does it take, internally, to say yes to change?

And what if...instead of waiting for that moment, a big decision, a life altering moment in time...what if we simply said yes to change everyday?

As I near the start of my thirties, I am realizing that God calls us to change, to refinement, to movement, every single day. We have the opportunity to assimilate or recreate, and I choose the latter.

It feels easier to see shift in the big changes. I recently left lululemon athletica, a large yoga and running apparel company based in Vancouver, for our 62 year old family owned business, National. The time leading up to the decision was emotionally intense, sometimes physically exhausting, and ultimately fully exhilarating. I find that to be the norm as we walk through a choice journey. Overall, the peaks and valleys are unpredictably timed but predictably there.

So how does one thrive in the steady and move in the daily? How does it differ when compared to what others may call a massive life change? The changes our family have experienced lately compel me to recognize the unending reliance on God's sovereignty - whether we are enjoying a mountain top view or feel the sun may never shine again. His grace is the tool that shaves down those peaks and valleys into a more sustainably stroll, one that I will choose gladly over an uphill climb. Daily connection with our Creator calls into our lives a simplicity of purpose and gift of peace that is necessary to move from enduring life to enjoying it.

So as our family continues to experience change, big and small, I will rest...still in His love.

gettin' physical.

In conversation with a friend last week, I shared openly my hopes for a (pretty vulnerable) full creative and expressive blog. I've stumbled upon many personal journeys and heartfelt exposes of challenging seasons or uplifting moments - all of which build community and offer the sweet reminder that, as humans, we never walk alone.

Given the last few months of personal goal development, it seems fitting that today's exploration is a deeply personal and sometimes challenging place from which to write. In the peace of my home tonight, I want to get real with you - blogosphere - about the struggle that has plagued my mind and taken up space in my heart where grace and acceptance should abide.

I'm going to talk to you about my body. Yep. All 155 pounds of my 5'10" bod.

And let's start with that number. How many times have I heard that "weight is just a number?" So often, it feels like that phrase is coming from some perfectly lean, six-pack toting girl who can eat a pizza and hit the gym for 30 minutes and rock a bikini in the same week. #loveyou #meanit. To me, weight isn't a number. It's an indication of "on track" or "off track." It's a defining point. It's a measuring stick. It's everythingthatswronginmyhead. I've let that number define me, so much so that when I look at photos of myself from MBA school or our wedding day, I don't review the memory but instead remember the weight on the scale. Full on tragedy, people. And just ridiculous.

Next topic up for discussion? My relationship with food. In short, it sucks. I attach emotion to eve.ry.thing. In college, I did a rad round of lettuce and tomato and called it a day. Today, I preemptively dread eating out with friends, because I am fearful I'll binge or, worse yet, be judged for taking out a massive steak. I'll spend five days on a rigid meal plan and quicklyveerleft if you mention Mexican food or pizza. There isn't balance. And there definitely isn't grace. Instead, my dinner plate is full of guilt and shame.

Yet I am not clinically overweight. I workout four to five times a week. And I live the most joyful life alongside my husband and four-legged son. So why the drama? Why the tearful Monday nights when I apologize to my man that I'm not Victoria Beckham?

It's a matter of the heart, my friend.

For me, the heart breakdown started more than a decade ago (way more) during those pivotal (and whoa changing) high school years. I suppressed a lot of those challenges and justified the process as "teenage development," but as is the case in all matters of the heart....they reappear in (insert here: college, dating season, wedding prep, and now the fast approaching thirties) without a proper dose of cleansing grace.

I work for a yoga and running apparel company and am surrounded by triathletes, competitive cross fitters, and nutrition extroidinaires. I didn't walk in to this company claiming those traits. I was the musical, whimsical, adventurous and creative gal who loved a game night with friends or a movie on the couch far more than a half marathon or eight mile hike. But somehow, in my preexisting condition of comparison trap/warped body image, I lost sense of the beauty I possess - inwardly AND outwardly. I claimed I loved a certain workout. I touted that I would absolutely work out at least five times a week. And of course, I was 100% down to try a juice cleanse, go gluten free, become mega paleo girl, or quit sugar for forever. SERIOUSLY!? This coming from the gal who grew up in the largest barbecue producing town in THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Let's get real people.

The truth about me?

1. I love binge movie Saturdays when there is no movement for 10 hours (except a restroom and popcorn break)
2. I. would. move. mountains to get to Lexington BBQ - and I will order two meals for one person, with pride.
3. I believe a passion for sweet tea is next to godliness.
4. I think cupcakes are one of the greatest dessert inventions, of all time, second to s'mores.
5. I find peace in slow strolls around the lake with my husband and my pup.

These are hidden truths of my life (ok - not so hidden lately) that I stowed away as I "grew up." In some desperate need to fit in (which no one dictated but myself), I put away the "bad" and touted the "good" (both of which I defined myself. Cool). And, in the process of doing so, I forgot how to take care of myself, provide balance for our family, and find creative expression both in cooking and working out.

I have grown increasingly frustrated with my back and forth, and it's showing up in my life - both physically and emotionally. In exploring my angst with a dear friend, Jessi Connolly, (check out her amazingness here), I shared that I have started to ask God to radically change my heart and mind. I asked that He would provide a "cease and desist" of self judgement and instill, instead, a desire to care for myself the way He loves me, and to see myself as He sees me. Whoa. Her response? What if I made room for Him to grant that request? What. If...I stopped working out this week? What if I was still? What if I took that time to be with Him instead of working to achieve some illusion? No regularly scheduled pilates class. No race to the bike. No jump to the mat. Absolutely. No. Sweat. She encouraged me to find some space from the "have to" as God instilled in me the "want to."

And so I am. It's day two. I'm scheduled to be in a bikini in 2.5 weeks....and I'm not sweating (physically or emotionally). I don't have some major revelation or powerful truth to share from this short experience. Instead, I have only love. In just two days of stillness, I have sensed rest, rejuvenation, acceptance, and love. 

He reminds us that we cannot earn His favor, and that we are saved by grace through faith alone - not. by. works. So what would happen if you stopped working (perhaps not physically, but maybe emotionally? Spiritually?) What if you rested? What shows up for you? What becomes possible for you?

Be still, and be loved by the One who made you, because guess what? He made you on purpose.

from fast to feast

For the past several weeks, I took a hiatus from all things social media (including my dabblings in writing). The intention of saying goodbye to a level of connectivity was simple: less time invested in technology would equal more time enveloped in Scripture. Below are a few main points to summarize a myriad of learnings in this 40 day journey.

1. Fewer status updates = more present minded. I. Love. Updating. My life. I live out loud so often that I feel compelled to share with the Universe the full amount of fun taking place in my life, not out of a desire to boast or seem fancy pants, but truly out of pure love of this massive life we get to LIVE! But something shifted for me in breaking the habit of reaching for my phone - I found a new level of stillness and subsequent enjoyment from a level of privacy I have not previously offered myself (or those around me). I love to feel connected, and in my head...sharing a photo with hundreds of my closest friends seemed (obviously) uber connected. However, I was missing that immediate connection with the individuals right in front of me. Boom. #truthbomb
2. Photos, for the sake of capturing a memory, are a gift. I so often reach for my phone to capture a moment..and let's be real, it will (more than likely) be an instagram moment. #photoobsession. After breaking the habit of photographing for a public share, I found myself capturing moments that really...REALLY...mean something to me. That's right, world. My days of overgramming are (hopefully) behind us. You're welcome.
3. When my mind is freed from connectivity, it is susceptible to new distractions. I learned that I connect to others via photos and writing for many reasons, some fulfilling and well intentioned and some...well...not. I envisioned my time away from social media as some vacation from comparison...a journey into mega life evaluation...time to invest in my marriage and friendships. The reality? Without social media, I was plenty capable of finding additional distractions to fill my time and new means of "life avoidance," as I've come to name it. Time with friends, a deep dive into goals and on track/off track evaluations, and strong connection to Christ beckon more than some time off of a computer. Those elements of our life are matters of the heart, not matters of our time. 
4. Jesus calls in the quiet. Real connection to Scripture - to the Divinely breathed truth of His grace and sovereignty - is the only sustainable solve to an otherwise frantic life of distraction.

We don't (always) need a fast from an element of our life to find the truth He longs for us to know. But for me, the aforementioned element of my life became a hobby, then a habit, and ultimately, an idol. I found identity in false connection and lost sight of the freedom that exists in stillness.

I encourage you to review the dailies in your life, and identify if any one piece of your routine is starting to dictate your calendar. Carefully restructure your time, choose some space, and free yourself from the all too familiar enslavement of routine, busyness, or obligation. Because my friends, He has prepared a feast for His bride...go and sit with Him.

rest. relish. repeat.

a quiet entrance

This morning, a dear friend sent me an article from Paul Tripp, a pastor and author based out of Philadelphia. Her timing was impeccable, as I currently live life wide awake and desperately searching for God's will. What is He calling me to? Where is He pulling me? Why is He waiting? I sense new action in my life - action fast approaching - but I (despite all my efforts) cannot decipher what that action is. Is it a change in my life? Is it an addition to my routine? Is it the removal of a circumstance?

#questionsunanswered

Paul's article speaks to God's secret will and the gift He has given us in make His love not so secret. He ends the article with a calming and powerful call to action:

Rest in knowing that as you willingly obey God, God will lovingly guide you.

So much of scripture speaks to rest, peace, and stillness. It is in the quiet that He makes His love known and in the listening that He makes His will clear.

By the end of last week, I knew it was time to listen...

Upon hearing some powerful words and surrounding scriptures on Sunday, I left church and sat in the driveway of a vacant home (yes. This has become too much of a tradition...#dreamhousealert). Tears fell from my eyes as I knew God was calling us to make our home in this city. I sense Him opening doors. I see the gifts He has given us through incredible relationships and a truth-centered Church community. I don't know how or why or when, but He is rooting us, and the process is full of (sometimes painful) refinement and infinite grace.

After my "this is happening" encounter, I spent the day aimlessly driving, visiting friends in the character-laden neighborhoods of this "Holy City." As my car rounded the corner and parked outside of our tiny, one-bedroom apartment, I stood in awe of God's design. A year ago, we were unclear on His will for our lives. We were clear on His sovereignty and chose to grab hold of one another and say yes to the desires He placed on our hearts. And now, we're here...it's as though the journey happened in my sleep. The shifts in our lives...the development of new community...the growth in our marriage...in the days it seems subtle. In totality, it is magnificent.

Sunday night, I was thirsting for more from Him and pulled out my lent journal - I just couldn't wait to launch day one of what will be a phenomenal 40 day journey. (I've since put it away to hold out...#goodgirl). In reading His words in Luke, I was struck by the sheer simplicity of Jesus' introduction to His community. God did not send His son in loud, triumphant circumstance. He did not raise Him within alabaster columns or golden thrones. He did not surround Him with pomp and circumstance.

He came in the quiet.

If He came in the quiet, why do we search for Him elsewhere? What do we seek to fill that space? Is He there? Following His will does not require an extra set of glasses to finally see it or clear and distinct writing on the wall. His will comes in the quiet of our hearts - at the very depth of our being that He constructed. His will is in His word - in His love letter written to us.

He came in the quiet, and we find Him there still........

Be still, and know that I am God.
Psalm 46:10