Tales from the Vineyard: Covid

The church I attended for over a decade recently closed. I feel like God is inviting me to remember and share some of the good fruit that was produced during my time there.

If you're reading this and you ever attended Vineyard and God showed up for you there, will you share your story?

4 Then Joshua called the twelve men from the people of Israel, whom he had appointed, a man from each tribe. 5 And Joshua said to them, “Pass on before the ark of the Lord your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, 6 that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, ‘What do those stones mean to you?’ 7 then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever.” Joshua 4:4-7

Truly, I mean this: The time I spent with God and God's people at Springfield Vineyard Church for the past 13+ years was not wasted.

 

Covid Spring 2020

The world changing event of covid 19 resulted in our church meeting online for year. Like many other organizations, we had not built the technological infrastructure to seamlessly transition into a strictly remote community. I could not possibly detail, much less summarize, the amount of time and energy that went into this effort by our pastors and technology team. All I can do is say "Thank you!" and tell you my story.

I truly grieved the loss of in person worship in March 2020, and it was right before Easter, no less! I always look forward to Easter. It is a season of renewed hope and trust in God for what is to come. To lose the gift of celebration right then was so painful. I cried during the entire internet worship and sermon. It just wasn't the same, singing songs from a recording and listening to a one-sided conversation. Who was going to pray for me? How was I going to know what God was doing in others' lives?

We don't typically choose when it is time to grieve. It usually just happens to us. This was not my first grieving experience so I knew I needed to take the time to really lean in to the process. I let God have it: my pain, my loneliness, my fear and disappointment. He, of course, knew all of this was going to happen and was ready to receive.

Almost from the very start I knew covid was going to change me. How could it not? Everyone suffered somehow, some more than others, but I knew that the separation from community was going to be especially difficult for me. I've always been acutely aware of my need to belong to a group, to be seen, to have access to God's people for prayer and building up. So the blessings of covid really are two main things: Gifts from God in growing my ability to be sustained more directly by Him . . . and delighting in community from afar, through the hard work and dedication of my pastors and community of Springfield Vineyard Church.

There were so many gifts to staying connected to church during a pandemic. First, it truly was a communal grieving process. Everyone suffered. Every fear was shared. When someone shared a specific need or prayer request, there was a distinct feeling of "it could be me" that I think really opened people's hearts toward compassion.

God used covid to help us learn to reach out to each other in more direct ways. You know how you sometimes know someone from church but it's because you always get coffee at the same time? Well, using zoom for church makes that less convenient. So if you want to know how that person is, you have to ask. And you have to speak up because not all computer speakers are created equal. Zoom made community building super intentional when maybe it used to be a little happenstance. And prayer ministry was more direct, at least for our church. We used small break out rooms to give more people opportunity to share.

When the warm weather arrived, we added in-person small groups to our repertoire. It was informal and a little sweaty, but it turns out that lawn chairs in a big circle in the backyard is good enough for ministry. We made it work within the constraints we were given and it was beautiful. I'm so grateful for the community that happened that summer. The joy in being together after months apart was so good and the pressure to do ministry "just right" became moot when there was so much at stake. God opened my eyes to what really mattered during this time. Do I care if I have to sit outside in the 85 degree July evening (pregnant, no less, haha) if it meant getting to do church with my people? Turns out, I did not.

The last thing I'll say is what God was doing in me, during this year off church. I had to face all of my fears of missing out, over and over and over again. Social media was not my friend, but I couldn't quit because it was my only connection to certain people. So I had to figure out another way to stay connected and healthy. I don't really have anything poignant to say about this except that I know, in hindsight, it changed me because I no longer struggle with FOMO the way I used to. Being invited into a closer communion with God (though it felt more like "forced" at times), was a real gift, and one that keeps on giving.

I praise God for the ways he blessed me and my Springfield Vineyard Church community during covid.

Tales from the Vineyard: Godspeed

The church I attended for over a decade recently closed. I feel like God is inviting me to remember and share some of the good fruit that was produced during my time there.

If you're reading this and you ever attended Vineyard and God showed up for you there, will you share your story?

4 Then Joshua called the twelve men from the people of Israel, whom he had appointed, a man from each tribe. 5 And Joshua said to them, “Pass on before the ark of the Lord your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, 6 that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, ‘What do those stones mean to you?’ 7 then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever.” Joshua 4:4-7

Truly, I mean this: The time I spent with God and God's people at Springfield Vineyard Church for the past 13+ years was not wasted. 

 

Godspeed Spring 2019 

I and a good sized group from our church attended the Godspeed conference in Kansas City and it changed my life. I believe when we show up for God with the intention of being changed and we decide to put real effort and intention into that dedicated time, God honors that. This was my experience at the Godspeed conference. I had a nine month old baby at the time. Instead of letting that deter me, I invited my mother to the conference, too. We used the time to hang out with my cousin. It was great! My mom said my cute baby even brought some much needed levity to a serious/ sad situation she encountered. God's good like that.

"Godspeed" represents the pace at which God moves in contrast to how humans work. It's a beautiful call back to some ancient practices in the early church that often get forgotten during the busy seasons of service and ministry of the modern church. Without getting pulled too far into historical weeds I have barely studied, I'll just say this conference was a true beginning for me in my spiritual life. I had never before felt so invited and educated on the deep, spiritual work I have always felt called to. Contemplative prayer, the daily examine, practicing gratitude, silence . . . these ideas were not foreign to me but I'd never really taken the time to practice them.

Godspeed gave me the space to do that. In the midst of learning to be a mother, still working through living life without a career or "purpose," and feeling tired all the dang time, I let God lead me into a new season of growing with Him. I was able to ponder and reflect on painful experiences that had felt meaningless or selfish and see the richness God had planted there. Instead of shoving down intrusive thoughts that caused me shame, I felt God's invitation to explore those thoughts and be changed by Him. It was truly profound. If you have never experienced something like this, check it out (I'll list resources below.)

This conference also challenged a lot that I had assumed that church was supposed to be. I think I had been sort of waiting around for God to do miraculous things through me and didn't realize there was work to do inside myself. There's this whole concept of loving out of being loved. Serving out of "overflow". But really, step one is not loving God or other people, but being loved. Being a Christian wasn't about being "good enough," or reading my bible more, or praying right, or doing good things for people, it was just being in a relationship with God. I think I'd always known that logically but this conference was the first time I actually felt the freedom that comes with the deep knowledge that God, Himself, is enough. It is truly life changing.

Looking back, I can see all the beautiful seeds that God planted in me that have been growing ever since. I wrote a song while I was there. I started reading books that brought my two loves together (faith and mental health) in a way I didn't know but had always dreamed was possible. I began the slow and steady work of letting go of my striving and being changed by the nearness of God.

I think this conference, and the changes it inspired in our church community in the years that followed, will always be a highlight for me of my time at Vineyard. It marks a personal turning point that set me on a path that I haven't even begun to see all the twists and turns of. I have had such a deep hope and inspiration to continue this good and powerful work ever since. I praise God for the way He showed up for me at the Vineyard Godspeed conference.

The song I wrote:

Stay Close to Me

The time I spend with You is never wasted
Nothing is more real than You right now
As I abide with You Your love will grow in me

Oh Lord, I pray Stay close to me

I want to see the fruit of Your design
I need Your help to let go of my pride
You are all the reputation I desire

Oh Lord, I pray Stay close to me

You live and breathe in me. You change the way I see
You’re making me a vessel for Your glory
I choose the path You made. I choose the narrow gate
I choose to be a vessel for Your glory

Oh Lord, I pray Stay close to me

Wanna learn more about Spiritual Formation?

https://www.danwilt.com/

https://apprenticeinstitute.org/

https://renovare.org/

https://freelyandlightly.org/

https://www.upperroom.org/

Practicing Hope

**Written in 2016 and forgotten**

 

November 30: Tim preaches on Hope at Vineyard Church and how it is rooted in the past, practiced in the present, and realized in the future. He quotes Romans 8:22-25: "We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently."

Tim challenges us to "seek the courage to experience our circumstances to find God working in them" and to "intentionally practice hope."

And I realize that hope is not a fuzzy-warm feeling of "everything's going to be okay" but an uncomfortable, sometimes painful, process of waiting and striving and expecting diligently.

December 19: I was still thinking about this sermon and wrote the following on the Facebook page we use to pray for our church:

Continuing the theme of hope especially after Tim preached about it. It's been stuck in my head. So there I was, reading this great book (Daring Greatly by Brene Brown) and I read:

"According to Snyder, who dedicated his career to studying this topic, hope isn't an emotion; it's a way of thinking or a cognitive process . . . Hope happens when:
1. We have the ability to set realistic goals (I know where I want to go)

2. We are able to figure out how to achieve those goals, including the ability to stay flexible and develop alternative routes (I know how to get there, I'm persistent, and I can tolerate disappointment and try again)
3. We believe in ourselves (I can do this!)"

These words are written by a hope researcher from a scientific point of view but I felt God poke at me when I read them. I feel convicted that God is asking me, and perhaps all of us, to practice hope.

God, my prayer is for You to supernaturally move through our church family and give us real hope. Not just an emotional feeling but a profound belief that You can do this! Give us the courage and strength to set realistic goals. Give us the humility and wisdom to be flexible in those goals if Your way looks a little different. Remind us of Your almighty power to accomplish anything through the people You put here.

I'm reminded that God's way often appears counter-intuitive, conundrumical, or paradoxical. Lord, I pray You work through the limits of our minds and imaginations.

Let our words, thoughts, and actions bring glory to Your name.


December 26: My neighbors are in a car accident that appears horrible and leaves them bruised but everyone walks away (Thank the Lord). Their beloved family dog runs away from the accident but efforts to find him are immediately organized.


December 27: I learn about the accident and I'm sad about the dog. God hears my cries.

December 28: While walking around looking for this dog, I'm singing Oh Lord, My Shepherd Be and thinking about Matthew 18:12: “What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off?"

December 29: I go looking for the dog again. It's hard to feel sad and still try to find a solution. I cry out to God.

December 30: I share with a coworker how much harder it is to care about something. I cry a lot more when I care. Hoping hurts.

December 31: It's the last day of the year and I'm reading this phenomenal book by Daniel Siegal called The Whole-Brain Child. On page 99, he writes "There's a lot of scientific evidence demonstrating that focused attention leads to the reshaping of the brain . . . the physical architecture of the brain changes according to where we direct our attention and what we practice doing."

I'm reminded of Philippians 4:8: "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you."

I'm practicing.

May 12: God made miraculous things happen to my neighbors who lost their dog. They found a dog similar to the one they lost that just happened to be his brother. This brother had been lost for over a year. My neighbors made friends with this dog's owner and they got to keep the dog. It's one more part of the story. I'm hopeful for more.

Seven Years

When I first learned about unconditional positive regard in counseling school it felt too good to be true. How could I be accepted for exactly who I was? What about all of my mistakes, innate selfish tendencies and disregard for others? I understood the basic concept and even learned how to use it in sessions, but I struggled personally with the idea that I was worthy of such treatment myself. It felt unrealistic in light of my (admittedly limited) understanding of theology and I did not understand how God could approve of such an experience for myself. I went so far as to worry that my faith and career were incompatible and I would have to choose one or the other.

Logically, I can see how my thinking was flawed. Academically, I understood unconditional positive regard was simply a tool to help people feel validated in their experiences and begin to make positive change as a natural consequence of that feeling. I knew that it was not the same thing as God's love, which is even more capable of seeing us for who we really are than any human and more powerful to change us than our own attempts. No, it was not my mind that got in the way, it was my heart. I was held back from both receiving and giving true unconditional love because I felt hurt and wounded myself. It was impossible to give away something I hadn't yet experienced (or allowed myself to experience) for myself.

God healed me of my hurts, several times. He showed up and loved me, over and over and over. He used other people to do it. And I remembered His promises. And then I went on living and got hurt again and needed healed again and the cycle felt too familiar. What was wrong with me? Why did things have to hurt? I must not have done something right the first time or this wouldn't keep happening . . . 

I recently received my License as a Professional Counselor and while this is a huge milestone in my career and general accomplishments, I know that I have much learning and growing still to do. Perhaps this latest pondering about what it means to Be Loved and to Love Others is my most recent test in life's ongoing trials.

I don't like admitting when I'm wrong. I don't like the hard work required to take other perspectives, be challenged in my beliefs, or face my prejudices. These things don't come easy. They are the Messy Middle, the unknowns, the unforeseen but necessary struggles. Each time I struggle I remember that I am flawed. I am human. It sucks.

Pride is a regular downfall for me (for everyone?) but it isn't my only or biggest one. Hidden below pride is hurt. For me, it's usually fear of rejection. If I am not the Best, the First, or the Most Talented, then how will I know I am loved?

These thoughts are both old and new. It's an ongoing conversation I've been having with myself for at least seven years. Most of my personal epiphanies have something to do with identity, love, acceptance, etc. This is simply one more installment in my quest for insight.

Logically, I know that God loves me and that is enough. He loves who I was seven years ago, who I am now, and who I will become. The missing piece is not my knowledge of God's love but my experience of it, and that takes practice and discipline. We all need to know . . . every moment . . . deeply . . . how much God loves us. Only by experiencing that One True unconditional positive regard can we begin to live freely. The battle is not between Counseling and Christianity, but between hurts and healing.

I have worked for seven years to get to this place, to call myself "Counselor." It is just a name. But it is hard won and I want to keep fighting. This week, I collected two ideas to practice:

1. I will drink water first thing in the morning and meditate on God's Love as healing water

2. I will memorize a scripture that reminds me of this truth

1 John 4: 16-19
So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. By this is love perfected with us, so that we may have confidence for the day of judgment, because as he is so also are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because he first loved us.

Emotional Writing

I'm currently reading Brene Brown's Daring Greatly. She's written several books but my brother, a self-described Brown evangelist, mostly recommends Daring Greatly and Rising Strong. If you're curious if her books are right for you: 1. Yes, they are. 2. Watch this video.

On page 82, Brown quotes Pennebaker (author of Writing to Heal) on the power of emotional writing: ""The evidence is mounting that the act of writing about traumatic experience for as little as fifteen or twenty minutes a day for three or four days can produce measurable changes in physical and mental health. Emotional writing can also affect people's sleep habits, work efficiency, and how they connect with others.""

This passage struck me. I remember last year, I was very intentional about buying a new notebook for the new school year. It's teal and gorgeous. I also bought fancy blue pens to use only when writing in this notebook. I didn't have plans for the notebook, specifically. I didn't know that it would change me.

In August of 2014, I was working at a job that still felt new and I had just had two months of furlough. It was scary to jump into the busy season, still learning the ropes. As a counselor, I often find myself in situations that most people would describe as "awkward." I specialize in difficult conversations. I have years of training to prepare me for this. And yet, some days, I feel like I fail at this.

My pretty new notebook became my shame journal, of sorts. When I found myself feeling overwhelmed, I would take a short break and write down all of my thoughts, especially the really ugly ones. If I worried about being good enough to do my job, I wrote it down. I confessed all of my fears about my own self-worth, ponderings about how other people felt about me, and questions about the meaning of life. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't just work stuff, but life stuff, church stuff, and friend stuff that made it's way into the notebook. Turns out, when I felt stressed at work, everything in life got harder. And vice versa.

My journal is still with me but I don't use it as much. It seems that after I gave myself permission to recognize in the moment what I was feeling, the feelings didn't last as long. Writing things down also acted as a reminder to pray about them. And after clarifying how I felt about something and prayed about it, I felt more prepared and able to share it with someone else, should that need to happen.

On reflection, I can see how implementing a Back To Work writing therapy really improved my efficiency at my job and helped me grow to be an even better counselor. When I'm going through something in life (because life still happens) I'm not as afraid of those difficult conversations. I can better recognize now what is my reaction and what is happening outside of me.

Keep Calm and Write It Down

Another topic related to this is mindfulness. I highly recommend Dan Siegel as a source on that.

Uncertainty

Sometimes, God talks to me while I'm driving home from the grocery store listening to the radio. I don't really feel like I said what I was trying to say, but go ahead and enjoy my stream of consciousness:

I asked God to help me understand why it's so hard to watch other people struggle. If someone I know is hurting, I want to comfort them and cry with them. I want to feed them a nice dinner. Mostly, I want to fix the problem for them. Sometimes I think this is out of my own need to control things rather than a desire to make someone else's pain go away.

I have pretty low tolerance for discomfort and have mastered the art of complaining. I usually get what I want. I find boredom equally as painful as busyness. I'm constantly striving for balance between hunger and fullness, thirst and having to pee all the time, loneliness and social anxiety. In addition to this, I really don't like not knowing if I will be able to take care of these needs in the future. I plan. I pack snacks.

But God doesn't give me perfect balance in every situation. I have to suffer through the reality of life. Meditation has helped with this. I'm learning to be present in the moment, breathe through it and be okay. This has calmed my general state of mind as well as my existential state of mind. Life after death doesn't sound so terrifying anymore.

Because of my intolerance to uncertainty I don't always know how to respond to friends who are in painful situations. I know I can't fix it. I know there's nothing practical that will make it better. I know nobody is expecting me to make it better. But still, there's this internal pressure to somehow be just the right kind of friend to make things better. I don't know what it is but if I don't do it then I've failed as a friend. What kind of friend just lets people suffer?

I know this is not really about other people. It's really about me.

I don't expect God to take away all of my uncertainty, but I'm still learning how to deal with it. It feels like driving on a small highway late at night. It's like waiting for my dad to get home from work and it's stormy outside. It's staying with relatives while my mom is having surgery. It's being five years old and dealing with all these other kids at school who do and say unexpected things.

So tonight while driving home, I recognized to myself and to God that my discomfort with uncertainty may be hampering my interactions with the world. His response:

-There will always be uncertainty in life (ugh)
-Uncertainty will probably always be uncomfortable (ugh)
-I can trust in His ability to take care of me
-I can trust in His ability to take care of other people
-I can remember what He has done for me in the past
-I can make appropriate decisions based on the skills and knowledge He has given me
-I can let go of any personal responsibility I have put on myself for the suffering of other people

Hebrews 13:7-8
Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

The leaders I think about in that verse are not people who have life easy or comfortable. They are people who rely on God. I can change my goal from "being comfortable" to "being reliant on God." It may be uncomfortable but losing the burden of responsibility evens things out. :-)

Friendly Feelings

Hi guys. I have a big emotional thing I want to talk about. God's doing something in me and I think he might want to do it in others. Here's the story:

For a long time, I felt emotionally disconnected from other people. Maybe we all do at times? As a child, I was shy. As an adolescent, I was lonely. I didn't know why, but it seemed like everyone around me had better relationships than I did.

I internalized this feeling. I thought there was something wrong with me.

Then I thought maybe there was something wrong with everyone else.

Either way, I didn't feel like I had very many close friends who accepted me.

In college, I got involved with a female bible study group and we took turns telling our stories. There is something very magical about sharing personal information in a group setting and then experiencing complete acceptance and love in return. My experience in that group healed a lot of previous hurt and I ended up making some of the best friendships I still have.

I went through counseling school and learned a lot of good stuff about personal growth. I got even better. My marriage got better. I made more friends.

I joined Vineyard Church and God did some more healing (the kind only He can do.) In addition to the mental health I had been working on, God fixed some spiritual things. My relationships felt healthier than ever.

But all along this amazing journey, there was still a shred of that old hurt hanging on. I could feel it especially when I was tired or stressed. When I was too busy to spend a lot of time with people (my love language) I started to doubt my relationships. I could tell it was happening because I'd share my feelings with my husband and he'd give me that "You're really strange" look. God had done enough in my life that I knew these feelings came from a place of insecurity and were full of lies (LIES!), but it still hurt to feel that way.

As tends to happen in my relationship with God, feelings build up over time until I get tired of it and I come to Him, completely vulnerable, begging Him to take away this thorn in my side. "Why do I have to suffer from such bitterness! Why don't you just fix it, God?" Two weeks ago, after dealing with a lot of stress and busy-ness (we're buying a house!), it happened again. I cried. I got angry. God heard me.

So here are the gross details of my big emotional problem. I'm explaining it because if this situation sounds at all familiar to you, I want you to experience freedom like I have.

The Problem

If friends talked about hanging out with other friends, I felt left out.

If I learned about a social event where several friends were together and I wasn't invited, I felt left out.

If friends talked about how much they liked other friends, I felt like they didn't like me (or like me as much).

Basically, any positive attention shown by people I cared about for other people meant (to me) that people didn't care about me.

Obviously, these assumptions are ridiculous and wrong for so many reasons. I knew it was wrong but couldn't stop feeling that way. I strongly believe that in order to get rid of something bad, you have to replace it with something good. Here are some of the truths that God hammered (and is still hammering) into my brain:

The Solution

1. My worth as a person is found in God alone, not in what other people may do or say.

2. I have to understand how much God loves me, first, before I can experience healthy love from anyone else.

3. It is unfair to judge how someone feels about me based on random events or actions I observe and collect as "evidence" - that may or may not have anything at all to do with me.

4. God can heal incorrect beliefs and unhealthy patterns of behavior. God can change hearts and minds.

So, I prayed for God to heal me. First, I asked Him to prompt me mentally when I began to feel bad about a relationship. I asked that He would remind me of the truth so I could replace wrong beliefs with right ones. I also prayed that he would change my feelings, because I know that it is not His will for me to have low self-esteem.

And God came through. It has been two weeks since I prayed that prayer and I have encountered several opportunities to have God change my mind and heart. He has been faithful to me and I will continue to practice the habits he is growing in me.

I hope this helps someone. <3

The New Normal

Have you heard of the new normal?

Every now and then, something comes along in life and changes everything. At first, you're shocked, stunned. How could this happen? Of course, you probably know how it happened (your church moved buildings, you got a new job, your best friend moves away, etc.) But what you didn't know, was that in addition to changing your circumstances, this new normal also changes your outlook, your every day feelings, your routine. It feels like starting over . . . which can feel like losing something.

Our pastor preached about this new normal a while ago. It's a phrase I like to use in situations like changing my diet forever, or becoming an aunt (yay!) It applies to pretty much any time you realize: Everything is different now.

In my life, the new normal happens pretty regularly. It feels like stretching. Along that line, the more my life changes and I learn to adjust to new situations and circumstances, the more flexible I feel. I've not had major changes in my life, considering, but to me, some changes still feel really big.

When Matthew broke his collar bone and got a concussion, I felt the new normal of becoming a care taker for the first time and learning to put someone else's needs before my own. When I worked my first full-time job, I learned the new normal of sacrificing my time to help support my family. When God and I had long talks one summer about how to be a good friend, I learned the new normal of leaning on Him for my emotional needs rather than seeking that elsewhere.

I keep using that word "learn." I'm only 27 years old but I've already decided that we never stop learning and growing.

Last week, I felt a lot of newness in my life. My husband was transitioning into a new job (pretty much his first new job in 11 years), my brother and sister-in-law had a baby (yay!), and my job was the busiest it's ever been as I continue to get used to this relatively new career (counseling).

Sometimes we can experience good or neutral events but they still effect us like the world is going to end. Positive stress is better than negative stress but I still react to it the same way. Usually, I need to have a good long cry. By Friday of last week, I was ready for that but hadn't figured out how to do it. By Sunday, my body had had enough and I cried straight for thirty minutes (during church), just because.

I'm over the shock of things looking different and the emotional hump (for now). I find myself facing this new normal with my eyes and ears open. How can I support my husband as he works from home? What can I change about my routine at work that will help me stay happy and healthy? How can I support my brother and sister-in-law from six hours away?

This new normal feels like starting over . . . which can feel like opportunity.

Mom Post: To Be or To Do

No offense, millennials.

Several months ago, I wrote the blog title, "Mom Post." A little bit later, I added a subtitle, "To Be or To Do." Mothers Day was last Sunday, which was also the day my husband, Matthew, preached on this very topic. I'd say it's about time I write this thing.

My mother is a special lady. She teaches seven year olds how to grow up into very competent eight year olds. Every person I've known who has been in one of her second (and for a short, unfortunate time, first) grade classes has just the best things to say about her. With such witnesses, who can deny her influence on the world?

My mom genuinely loves children. Her children, likewise, love her, maybe a little too much. I think it's safe to say that her love for children is a big factor into why she chose teaching as a career. Truthfully, how could one survive, otherwise?

More than loving children, Mom believes children are capable. I've never met a child Mom couldn't teach to sing, or at least keep a beat. What a powerful skill.

Mom and I have a lot in common: music, analyzing relationships, allergies, making plans. We differ mostly in the environments in which we were raised. I grew up as part of the "Who am I?" generation. I can still see the bafflement on my parent's faces as pre-teen-me languishes on the sofa, struggling with the ultimate identity crisis of choosing a lifetime career before I begin high school. Kudos to them for being 100% supportive of each career of the week.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I get the sense that my parents didn't really have this kind of pressure. My dad jokes about how he had to wander around the world for awhile before figuring out what it was he would do. Mom took a more direct approach, but it still wasn't all planned out the way I was trying to plan out my life as a pre-teen.

I don't really understand why my generation (or anyone, really) is so set on having a clearly-defined identity. It didn't use to matter. It certainly frustrates my mom. (Note: This entire blog post is based off one really tiny conversation so most of the details are just things I'm thinking about, not necessarily the perspective of my mother.) The focus, to her, should be on doing. She is a teacher, a mother, a sister, and a friend, because that is what she does and what she cares about.

The problem, as I perceive her seeing it, is that people today don't have the will or motivation to do things that actually matter. Instead, they sit around and think and watch each other and describe themselves with words.

Both of my parents are doers. They have literally committed their lives to serving their family, their community, their church, and the world. As their daughter, I can see the effects of that service and value it as not just the actions they take but also who they are.

I want to do just like Mom.

In Preparation of Lent

This will be year two for me to try to give up TV for six weeks. Last year didn't go so well. So, for inspiration, a list!

Things I might do instead of watching television:

-play with the cats
-play with the dog
-floss
-keep the house clean(er)
-write more blog posts
-pray
-repaint bedrooms
-play piano
-read
-talk on the phone
-exercise
-go on dates
-garden
-eat less/ sit less/ computer less

Oh yeah, and do that Lent thing. Because here's the deal about Lent: it's not about the thing you took away, it's about what you do instead of the thing you took away.

"Lent is a season of preparation for the celebration of Easter and has historically served as a time of preparation for a new move of God in one’s life, symbolized by Jesus’ resurrection, celebrated each Easter.  During this time we move towards more fully entering into Jesus’ life, suffering, death, and, therefore, resurrection. It is a time when we make more room in our lives to focus on Jesus by giving up things that bring us comfort or distract us.  The idea is to then spend that time/energy/money with and for Jesus. It is also a time when, through clearing extra things out of our lives, we may become more aware of our own sin and/or our deep need for Jesus." -http://vcfp.org/sermons-resources/program-handouts/ways-to-observe-lent/

Besides the traditional "giving something up" practice, you could also:

-Make a Crown of Thorns
-Make a Prayer Chain
-Consider a Lenten Gift Offering
-Take Inventory and Lighten the Load
-Give TV the Night Off
-Read a Lent Devotional

(All suggestions taken from: http://vcfp.org/sermons-resources/program-handouts/ways-to-observe-lent/)

Travel (Or how contemplating travel drove me to existential considerations)

There is something my husband says that I find . . . not inspiring, but grounding, because it’s true: Often we don’t want to engage in a particular activity, but want to be able to look back and say that we have done that activity. This thought helps me prioritize my activities and distinguish between what I want to do and what I want to have done. (Anybody out there have a list of life goals they wrote in high school? Mine includes: skinny dip, write a book, act in a big theater production, adopt a child, and meet a famous person. Out of this list, there are very few items I think I would actually enjoy doing. Most are just things I feel like I ought to have done to be a well-lived person or I feel like I’m supposed to enjoy because . . . some reason.)

Foreign travel is one of those activities that I want to have done, and I struggle with actually enjoying doing it. I love to think back to times I experienced anything new. Strangeness has a powerful effect on me. When I am surrounded by unknowns, I tend to reinvent myself and see my life through a new perspective. However, while traveling, I struggle to find the balance between peaceful reinvention of the self and stress in the overwhelming unknown uncontrollables.

I’m currently listening to this book: http://www.hsperson.com/pages/hsp.htm and am viewing every area of my life through the lenses of a Highly Sensitive Person. In case you don’t feel like clicking on the link: a highly sensitive person is one who is overly aware of stimuli and faces unique challenges and insights in everyday life because of those sensitivities. I self-identify as a highly-sensitive person for several reasons but the relevant ones for this post are my tendencies to feel overwhelmed by loud noises, crowds, and spontaneous decisions.

As mentioned in a prior post, I have several food intolerances and follow the Paleo diet as closely as is reasonable for time, effort, and economic restraints. I have yet to experience foreign traveling in light of this particular challenge but I imagine it wouldn’t be easy.

It doesn’t seem like traveling would be a great fit for me, despite my desire to have a “has traveled” notch on my life story. And yet, I do plan to travel next summer (hopefully) to Europe. This journey is much more meaningful to me knowing the barriers I will personally need to overcome to make it happen. You might even say it’s part of my philosophy.

When a person is faced with adversity of any kind, there seem to be two popularly identified responses: those who overcome and those who submit. This has always seemed trite and shallow to me, however. I don’t see value in the act of overcoming itself. It seems that attitude serves no purpose other than to say “Look what I did! It’s so awesome because no one thought I could.” I kind of hear some “Na na-na na-na na’s” in the background.

My purpose for overcoming my HSP-ness and food issues is not so I can prove the strength of my character, but because there are really valuable things to be done in this world and not doing them because of “enter your personal challenge here” is simply not a good excuse. If I don’t do something that I perceive as a really important action, then it will be because it simply didn’t need to be done by me or was not a valuable use of my time.

Let me try to be more specific. I really care about relationships. I love people and getting to know them. Recently, it occurred to me that when someone doesn’t tell me personal and vulnerable information about him or herself, I start to feel very insecure. Even more recently, it occurred to me that I could ask for that information and have begun to do so.

The first majority of my life I didn’t like to put myself out there. At first I was shy, then I was just awkward and didn’t know how to say things I wanted to say. Last, I realized how easily overwhelmed I sometimes become and avoided conversation due to the annoying complexity of it all. None of these are good reasons to back out of building relationship. So, I do it anyway.

Another way to look at it is in the realm of fear. Growing up, it was the thing to do to jump off cliffs into appropriately deep sections of Missouri’s scenic river ways. I really wanted to know what it was like but was afraid. I was afraid it would hurt, that I would hit a rock, that my bathing suit would come off . . . But, for a long time, I did it anyway. I knew I would always wonder what it felt like if I didn’t. (And I jumped multiple times because that feeling is something only real in the moment and harder to remember afterward.) Jumping off big rocks may not seem like a very existential activity but it served a valuable purpose in my development. It taught me that if something is really important to me, then I need to do it.

If it is important to you, do it. That is really the only good reason to do anything.

Let’s bring God into it for a sec. (I should do some Biblical research about this, soon, and give God the real center stage in a blog post.) A common question for Christians is: “What am I supposed to do with my life?” It’s a hard question for many reasons including the obvious fact that there isn’t a simple answer to such a broad question. Then, there’s the overly simplified response of pointing out the places God gives orders like the 10 Commandments or Sermon on the Mount but which do not take into consideration the many varying factors of job, marriage, financial security, politics, yada, yada, yada. But, the truth is, no one really knows their purpose in the world because we’re all still living it and everyone’s different.

My only comfortable answer to this question is the delightfully vague “Purpose is seeking God and doing what we feel like He’s telling us to do.” My point in this is to say that I believe God makes things seem more important to us if we ask Him to show us. But then, we have to choose to act on whatever it is He shows us.

So, I chose to prioritize relationship, despite the headaches of communication snags, insecurities, and differing opinions it brings. Even when I don’t know what to say, I choose to be near people. And if I happen to feel overwhelmed, I don’t beat myself up about it because I know having time to myself will help me be more able to engage with others later. And, I know that I am capable of interacting with people if the moment is a really important one.

I choose to travel because I have learned that new experiences help me accept feelings of discomfort (both physical and cultural) that lead to later endurance, broaden my perspective by challenging my preconceived knowledge of the world, and inspire an adventurous spirit that spurs me to ask and wonder more.

Foreign travel is really important to me so I will do it.

It occurs to me that most write about travel with the intention of singing its praises and I just wrote about how it’s a burden to overcome. Welcome to my world. :-)

Impressions

AN ETHNOGRAPHIC STUDY OF THE INFLUENCE OF PERSONALITY STYLE AND FIRST IMPRESSIONS ON THE AUTHENTICITY OF RELATIONSHIPS 

This post is the first of many I've had stewing for weeks. My hope was that over time, the confused jumble of ideas would settle into a concise, readable narrative. This doesn't appear to be the case. For the gist, just read the bold words.

As a counseling major, I have spent considerable time studying personality traits. I won't go into the wherefores and whatsits of variations. All you need to know is I am (at least my tendency over 50% of the time is to be) an introvert. I'll clarify that to say that I like my alone time and generally need some on a regular basis to feel "normal." But this is not a post about my Myers-Briggs type.
Fact A: I'm an introvert. (Edit: I'm a formerly, sometimes currently, SHY introvert).

Over the years I've developed a wide range of skills and abilities that were not my innate nature but have become a significant part of who I am today. It's important to me to make connections with people I don't know, to help them feel welcome, and to be a good listener- despite the minor discomfort this might cause me. But this is not a post about my personal growth from shy introvert to a more socially-savvy introvert. 
Fact B: I care about people.

This is a post about first impressions. Specifically,
(Research Question) how does personality type influence establishing relationships and the form those relationships take based on the very short amount of time it takes us to make first impressions? And, to cut to the chase, I'm asking this BECAUSE I care about people and want to make good first impressions despite any reservedness on my part.

Let's use me as an example!*: When I walk into a room full of people I don't know well, I have to fight the tendency to clam up. On the other hand, if I'm talking to a good friend, it's REALLY hard to shut me up (You can ask my family of origin, Matthew, Christina, or Kara for confirmation). I act like a four year old me. At the age of four, I was the chattiest person in my family, before peers, high school, and anxiety got in the way.
Observation A: I'm chatty, unless I don't know you very well.

So let's say you and I meet for the first time. I smile. You smile. We exchange basic history's (class, church, work, etc. depending on context) but that's about as far as it goes. Perhaps I want to say more (I'm usually thinking a whole lot more that doesn't quite make it through my filters in that particular moment) but don't and you end up thinking I'm a pretty quiet, even cranky, person. Let's then assume that you, being an extrovert, don't really connect with shy people . . . where can our relationship go from here?
Observation B: I come across as more shy than I really am.

Please don't misunderstand me. I do not think introverts = good and extroverts = bad. I think that we all make assumptions and those assumptions play a big part in how we treat people. Here's another example from the opposite angle:

I meet you for the first time and, being shy, don't say a whole lot. You, not feeling particularly shy, say more to compensate and I make the assumption that you are not a good listener. Since I like to talk, I assume we won't get along very well because you talk more than me in the first five minutes we spend together. 
Observation C: I judge people based on how well they listen to me.

This really is a conundrum I cause myself. I realize that (I'm working on it, I promise!) But let me repeat the question now that you have some context:
(Research Question, repeated) How are my relationships influenced by my initial shyness, even if I open up more later in the relationship?

This entire post was inspired by a flash of insight I had while mopping at work about a month ago. I realized for the first time just how important first impressions really are to establishing honest, authentic relationships. In a way I have been unable to in the past, I can now accept responsibility for the way my own behaviors have confused my identity in the minds of others.
Hypothesis: Some of my relationships are based on a lie!

This lie may be big or small, depending on context and closeness. I think I can safely say I show my authentic side more and more over time and even feel comfortable being Me in public on occasion. However, my "research" from now on will be trying to figure out how to
(Objectives) {1} improve current relationships that may be based on a lie and to {2} prevent the lie from occurring in the future. 
Data collection: Ethnography.
Participants: Me and those around me.
Time: Indefinite.

Stay tuned for Chapters 4 and 5, my Results and Discussion. In conclusion, I feel a renewed sense of responsibility for the weight I carry in making and giving first impressions. This is a key factor in the health and depth of my relationships. Moving forward, an increased ease in communication style should give others a more accurate picture of the true Me.
Conclusion: I owe it to myself and others to act authentically in all situations.

Appendix A: *I don't claim to be an expert on me. If you have had a different experience of me, please share. I'd love to learn from you! This post comes from the analytical part of my brain, the part that looks at the world and asks, "Why?"

Appendix B: I like me.

Happiness

My friend Ellen (http://bubblewriting.blogspot.com/) wrote about finding destinies, today. It reminded me of a quote that is on the wall of the daycare where I work:

"When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy.’ They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life."

- John Lennon

This quote is in the hallway between the 4- and 5-year old classrooms, the same age John and, I imagine, Ellen were when asked this question. I'm inspired every time I wander past with a broom at the end of the day.

When I was growing up, I would not have said, "I want to work in a daycare." But, it's where I am and I am content. The daycare where I work is a cheerful, honest place. The people there care about doing a good job and work together to provide for the needs of the children. During my time there, I have learned to value service and integrity and to strive to exhibit these traits more in myself.

I also work at a college as a part-time academic advisor. While this job is more in line with "what I want to be when I grow up," I do not feel that the work is more valuable than what I do at my second job. Both tasks are necessary and through both, I find pleasure in providing guidance and having a place to belong.

Ultimately, what I want to be is more abstract and broad than I could ever have defined as a child. Helping others, belonging somewhere, and working well are, in fact, enough to provide for my own happiness. Hopefully, along the way, I can inspire happiness in the small and large minds I encounter daily.

-April