see

when strength shows itself and you say so, i want to shrug it off.

what you meant as a compliment is too heavy for me and makes me too warm to have that laid upon my shoulders. i've felt it before and enjoyed it too much, and now i've been tempered by the indulgence of it. pride-taming does that. 

so when you say that i'm strong and all that, i want to take your face in my hand and turn you around and up and everywhere else but at me. because He did this. there is nothing i could ever do to have made me this way, and believe me when i say that i tried. 

beauty has cascaded across the dark canvas of my life (and of others) and i've been changed because of it. 

there was once a day when i wanted to die and truthfully, that day wasn't too long ago. My Father holds me tight and i know i'm here by His grace, alone. i know it is He who has kept me strong. 

i've seen my heart changed and how beauty has unraveled from choices i've made, even dark ones that still come with much shame. when you see glory like this, and magnificence, there's no going back and perspective is forever changed. it's happened to me. 

Joy shows herself and Hope becomes easier to step into when Grace is unwrapped. 

i wondered if He was true and then i chose to step into faith, and now my grip of fear is held loose to accept what.ever. may Be -- however grueling or gruesome the gift. 

so when you see strength, my heart cries that you see Him and not me. because all of this -- every bit of my life -- is all because of His grace. 

this is my worship.

Linking up with Lisa Jo today.

worship unwrapped

  

Each week I unwrap beauty.

The *whirl and twirl* of life beckons me to see . . . to notice . . . and to declare. Worship is reflected in the way our Real selves pour over and trickle down into our moments one-by-blessed-one. 

Simply as we are now.

I have to tell of the goodness I have tasted. So, I've set the table and I'm spreading out the beauty I've unwrapped . . . to share -- to commune together -- life that is lived out so boldly and magnificently.

Let's toast to these dozen witnesses of worship in Real living . . . 

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1. Coping out of courage  . . . and in turn gifting the world.

     "This is all sucks, you know . . . and it's stupid that it's happening. 

     There's no reason for us to suffer through it like this. 

     
     I'm here to make people happy."

Meet Bob and Linda Carey, and read about #TheTutuProject.

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2. Being, as we are. It's not always about being fully engaged. 

     "We'll sit in our little group of five at the family table . . . 
     they will ignore me completely . . . 

     I will be so glad to sit with them. 
     And they'll be so glad I've come."

Emily reminds me of how a parent matters more than we think.

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3. Sharing helps us be.

     "I don't know why . . . 
     I guess it's because I feel safe here . . . "

Deidra's sharing of her continued learning.

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4. Turning towards God "in the midst of kids and mess and loud . . . [and] life turns lovely." 

     " . . . pots and pans as bowls before an altar . . . 

     a sacred mess of grace. 

     

     Her breath there at the sink as incense."

Ann's learning of The Best Way to do Your Christmas Cleaning

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5. Seeing the miracles. 

     "There are divine invasions from heaven, 

     landing like morning manna, 

     for a waiting world with its back turned. 

     It happened about 2,000 years ago, and it still happens today. 

     In front yards. And mangers.
     And wherever you are right now. 

Jennifer's humble discovery of The Meaning of Advent . . . And Why You Don't Want to Miss It. 

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6. Accepting our story is an offering. As it is. 

     ". . . learning to embrace and accept . . . 

     the one you are living,

     the one that is taking shape in you,

     rather than the one you wish you were living . . . "

Bonnie's long, hard unwrapping of The Gift of Vulnerability. 

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7. Making room to enjoy the beauty. 

     ". . . in the midst of your meal-planning, program-directing, list-accomplishing.

     

          . . . however fleeting,

     of beauty that breaks through our resolve and our armour,

     our urgency and our self-importance."

Sarah's encouragement to Make Room For The Small Joys.

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8. Acknowledging moments as important. 

     "To realize the value of ONE MINUTE, 
          ask a person who just missed a train . . . 
     
     To realize the value of ONE MILLISECOND, 
          ask the person who won a silver medal at the Olympics . . . "

Bianca reminds us to realize and honor the value of time.

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9. Treasuring the long, hard road of learning.

     "It took us a year of Sundays . . . 

     to discover the holiness of setting aside a day . . . "

Kimberly's fear of Losing The Sabbath she "had so slowly gained." 

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10. Truth-telling of where we are. And seeing that worship is more than the where and the why (or even the why not). 

     "It is about being really true with myself 

     about where my heart is,

     even if it doesn't look good."

Heather's honoring of her questions and how Out of the Depths Came Joy.

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11. Refusing to pretend. She's just real. And she takes roles that honor her spirit. That influence and inspire.

     "You believe in a revolution,
     a REAL revolution,
     of the body, mind and spirit.

     You're sick of being told how to live and what to eat and hiding behind a skinny facade. 
     You're weary of seeing daughters and sisters and mothers fall apart because of some pretend ideal.

     You remind us that we are more than our bodies."

Emily deserves a stand-up ovation for No More Hunger Games (a letter to Jennifer Lawrence). 

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12. Pursuing hope. Like God pursues us.  

     "Those years of waiting weren't just because God decided He wanted us to wait 

     an arbitrary number of years or go through an arbitrary experience . . . 

     My hope is that God will be glorified through his life and through his story . . . "

     "I can't wait to see how many years the Lord allows us to be his parents . . . "

     "It's ultimately God's story that we're a part of."

Jacob Chen and this beautiful story.

We present to you these offerings, Father. 

We dance. We declare. And together, we dine. 

this is our worship. 

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A dare for whoever to rethink perfection

I ache to be whole.

As if there is an expectation that I should be more than and even sometimes less than, I long to feel less disjointed and more put together. As though I have broken parts or too many parts.

It feels naked-like to be this way -- messy and just not as I'm supposed to be. Pieces of me are in places where I think they don't belong.

But, according to who am I not right the way I should be?

Whoever said I am not perfect? 

Because, I am right the way I was created to be, truly . . .

     the perfect mother for my son.
     the perfect wife for my husband.
     the perfect employee for the position.
     the perfect friend for the situation.

Chosen for these stories. Casted before there was ever an audition. Showing up messy, stuttering, or not knowing my lines to my parts, or the moves to my roles doesn't disqualify me for the parts. Every day isn't an audition, it's simply a rehearsal.

Perfection isn't what we think it is.

We chase after getting everything just the way we think it should be, and we spend all our energy trying to live up to expectations we imagine of others or ourselves. This is what we define perfection to be when really, it's not about this at all.

Perfection is when something is whole. Full. To be all of itself.

When we bring our whole selves to the story, there is nourishment for our soul.
When we don't hold back on who we are and we are wholly us, His glory is.

All I mostly ever do is hide. Cower in a cave. Cover my face out of shame -- for being me, so less than I think I should be.

Nearly everyday I remark about the awesomeness of the sky. I watch the sun rise and set and get giddy over the radiant strokes of beauty as I consider His power and majesty. I reserve awesome for the big stuff. Lately, He has been speaking to me that I am, too.

Shame tells me that I can't be awesome. I make mistakes. I flub it up. I . . . I . . . I . . .

Again and again He tells me that I am Awesome. Just as I am. 

My mistakes don't make me less than.

He uses every single choice I make as a way to draw me to Him.

Free to choose, He backs me up with a covering -- a hedge of protection. He fills the gap between my selfish ambition and His glory be. He cleans up my messes before they really become messes. There is no true failure.

Grace is a gift, not something to be earned. 
And I can never make the gift stop coming. 

I usually want to run away when it gets hard. Give up on trying. Because the journey is painful most of the time and I get tired, weary of the hurting. I get discouraged that happy isn't something I feel or see more often. Yet, I am so blissfully unaware of true pain because there is joy down deep. I see the goodness in the pain, how it brings me to Him.

     I notice the strength that surfaces when I didn't imagine I'd have any.
     I notice the peace that comes when fear was so hot and heavy.
     I notice the beauty rise up out of really ugly situations and experiences.
     I notice the Creator of all and wonder how anyone could ever really question His existence.

When I bring my whole self into my story, I am giving back what is truly His in the first place. 

This is my tithe, what He deserves: when I just Be.

When I am fully me and don't hold back bits and pieces of me out of shame for being less than, I reflect trust in Him -- that He really does know what He's doing and that he really does purpose whoever and everything.

My trust can't be reflected until I take the step to just be. 
I first need to step -- I first need to Be.

The ache in me to be whole is my unsettled soul as it's held back. It will always remain inside of me until I just let me be Me. Wholly and fully Me -- perfectly Me.

He doesn't want my offering until I first give Him what He deserves, my Self as my tithe. 

Until I give Him my tithe can I really give Him my offering -- my trust for Anything -- especially my control and my need to be my own savior. And all this is a blessing turned back around for me, a gift of His design.

When I step out of the cave I've nestled myself into, and tried to slumber deep within to numb the pain of life away -- when I stand wholly Me -- there His glory be. I don't have to bring anything else or be any other way, He just is when I am as I am.

Whoever lives has an ache to be awesome. And we are this when we are wholly ourselves, not shirking back out of fear or shame.

So . . . Be.

You already are Awesome . . . so just Be.

And let your living be your true worship.

beauty of the dark unwrapped

i stood back watching the family i was with chat and laugh together.

grown up big-cousin-love and the littles loving on the bigs and all the happiness nestled in between.

soaking it in, i thought about the way ours is welcomed and accepted by them.

these people who are our family, too.

conversations were abundant and long.

we spent more time with these people than we ever had before. and it felt good.

driving home all i could think about was the beauty of the dark.

my groom was included. which means we were included.

and if it weren't for his father being his father, we wouldn't have been there.

or here, in this home -- our home, with this boy who looks like those boys.

beauty redeemed.

it is all so remarkable. breathtaking. 

Share your heart . . . add a comment below.

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beautiful

I used to look upon people and their choices differently than I do now, mostly with judgement.

And though I can be found still sometimes donning a robe and taking a seat not meant for me, I now look on people more with an understanding.

When you realize your own weaknesses and capabilities and they shock you to the core, a humbleness washes over you that makes all that judging quiet. 

Hearing that a friend's husband has moved out of their home with plans to depart their marriage, leaving  behind the stability and sanctity of the commitment-regardless-of-the-cost togetherness, my immediate response was: This is a story of redemption, just you wait and see.

There was a day not too long ago when I heard words that completely changed my muscles from tense to relaxed. And it was the realization of just how far God will go -- how He knows what it will take -- for us to know His love for us.

God doesn't like that bad things have to happen. It wasn't His design. But . . .

     He knows what it will take for His glory to be made evident. 

(After all, He knew His son needed to die to get our attention.)

So, when families appear to be destroyed, I know the story isn't over. I know that as ugly and terrible as it may seem, His ways are so much higher and that ultimately, His plan is for Him to be known.

It just might take getting to the very bottom of ourselves and everything appearing to die before the most beautiful story to be revealed.

Share your heart . . . add a comment below.

_______________________________________________

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