Kindness, With Caution

For the month of love (or February, for those that celebrate Valentine's Day and call it quits), our focus has been on showing kindness. We are less than stellar with daily challenges, so I made the boys weekly challenges. Four weeks, three challenges each, one verse to connect to their hearts and change them forever. Obviously. My five year old has difficulty bringing his lunch bag home, bless his heart, so he's sort of just along for the ride. From what I've been told, my eight year old has been completing the tasks each week. He's motivated by how good it feels to show love and help others. At this point, that motivation works and is age appropriate.

This week is all about helping others. Of course it is. Do I have a feel-good story to go along with this theme that also highlights me as a person? Nope. This is the real deal, folks. I thought this blog would be funnier...did I mention that?

SO right at the beginning of our week to help others, I ran into a woman I've "known" for years and have tried to reach out to. We met in a public setting years ago when I saw that she was struggling, that her body was severely damaged, and she was different. The sort of thing that typically causes discomfort, but I felt really drawn to her. It's not my job to tell her story, but right away I learned that she had endured years of trauma and abuse. My heart broke for her. Each time after our first encounter, I would say hello and she would tell the story all over again. She constantly moved her body, even though each step was labored and her body was frail. I tried to help where I could, but I found that no matter how willing she was to move her body, she was not willing to move past that story. It now defined her. It consumed her. She went from saying that she trusted God and that He would sustain her to complete bitterness and disgust for others. As time went on, I started to avoid her in our familiar stomping grounds. Isn't that awful? I tried to help her in so many ways, to put myself in her shoes, to imagine what it would be like to feel so stuck. Out of fear, no doubt, she didn't want to change.

So here we are buying groceries, and she walks by. I honestly thought she was dead, it had been so long since our last encounter. Almost relieved that she was alive, I said her name and asked her how she was. She went on to say things were worse than they had ever been. There was an edge to her tone and I could tell anger was brewing. I looked her in the eye and asked, "What will it take for you to be safe?" I had given specific advice in the past, but people really do need to process change for themselves. She became angry and went on to tell me that people like me weren't helping and that we needed to get her out. I told her it was her life and she said no one would stand by her side. She walked away angry and I didn't know what to say.

I've thought about this incident a lot and hadn't intended to share it. I have mixed feelings about my encounters with this woman. My immediate reaction was that I had "failed" as a believer. That a "better Christian" would have been brave and carried her out of her life that was crumbling. I felt disappointed that all of my efforts meant nothing to her. I felt validating in maintaining boundaries with her. But most of all, I felt so sad for her. She really needs a friend. I bet at some point, it looked like that might be me.

I believe we should reach out to others, move past our comfort zones, and help those in need. My boundaries involved not taking the kids or myself into her dangerous environment, to shield their tiny ears from the horrific details of her life, and to generally guard my heart...whatever that means. I just know a shield was up. Do you know what boundary we needed the most? My honesty.

"I want to help you, but this is what it will look like..."

"I'm sorry. I don't think I'm the person that can help you."

"This is all I will be able to do."

”I don’t know if I can help you, but I can pray for you.”

I don't believe that anything is wasted, so I do feel that there was some purpose to our "relationship." I hope that question is ringing in her heart. "What will it take for you to be safe?" It has been my experience that when someone has a strong reaction to the words we use, it typically means we're getting close to the root of an issue. Someone that hasn't experienced "safety" for years on end would surely feel turned upside down. In counseling, we would often suggest making one small change. One small step away from an old habit is the first step to creating a new one.

I share this story with you to encourage you and challenge you as you reach out to others. Sometimes it's a couple bucks to a person on the side of the exit ramp. Other times, it is someone you see repeatedly. Our kindness is shown not only in reaching out, but considering the heart of the person on the other end of our “good will.” We cannot possibly know all that they are going through, but we can be clear in the ways we will be available to them and ultimately point them to Christ. We weren't meant to depend on one another in life. We are human and we will fail. And that's pretty standard. It was never up to us to carry the weight of the world.

Forgotten Stories

I had forgotten how much I love to write. When I was younger, I would make up stories to cope with stress or simply just to disappear into my own world. Daydreaming has always been my best defense against boredom.

I imagined and wrote so many stories over the years. One story continued. I wrote of a brother and sister escaping a house fire. It was set in the old west. I was pretty into Legends of the Fall and Brad Pitt and what not. Also, I may or may not have listened to the soundtrack while writing. Anyways. The siblings lost their parents and depended on one another as they did not know who else they could trust. I didn’t know it at the time, but this story encompassed so much of what I was feeling in my own family. My parents loved us and also had difficulty hiding their problems. Villains were clear in the story...people in life that I did not trust showed up here.

I shared this story for the first time in a creative writing class. The professor had just shared her own short story, which involved a fire. My classmates didn’t believe me when I said I had been writing this story over and over for years. They assumed it was unoriginal and yawned at the theme of fire. I remember feeling embarrassed and invalidated.

I stopped writing the story when my brother disappeared from my life. It was too painful to consider the story with just my heroine escaping the flames, with no one to trust and no one to turn to. The thought of finishing the story without him in it was unbearable. How on earth would she ever make it alone? The whole thing went up in flames.

Now that I am writing again, my heart is swelling with stories and the beauty of their meaning. I am filled with a love for truth that is woven into the fiber of our experiences.

Jesus was a storyteller. He introduced us to characters we could relate to, stories that seemed familiar, and themes that felt as though they were taken from the pages of our own book.

That story was important to me. It was a way to say, "Hey! I don't think we're doing okay here!" and "I'm not sure we should trust them." As a child, my voice was small. But in that story, I fought fire and stood tall against my enemies.

Tell the story. Write the truth. Be right where you are. Live passionately with the gifts you have been given. Recall a time where you were filled with life and consider what fueled you. It may have been as far back as childhood, when your cares were less. What cares are holding you back now? Tend to them. Where do you find healing? For me, it's always God. A different route, but always the same destination.

It is in our nature to tell stories, whether written or spoken. It is in our nature to be known. It is not in our nature to go up in flames.

Show Up

I woke up slowly, my body still tired from a restless night. After long moments of waking my mind and prying my eyes open, I sat up and realized he was gone. The bed beside me was cold and empty. I stood up abruptly and went to the closet. Suitcase gone. I sunk to the floor and held my head in my hands. I didn't know how long he would be gone and I didn't have the chance to say goodbye. Soon the baby was stirring and I had to go on about my day, earlier than usual but still too late. I knew I would see him again, but my heart ached all the same. Our lives had grown so chaotic and tiresome that somehow I completely missed our important date, our kisses on the hand, our ritual of one last glance, one long hug, and one long goodbye before the distance would fall into place between us.

This. This is the feeling. Longing, loss, sadness, disappointment. There will be distance and you don't have the chance to say goodbye. Something special awaits, but somehow you missed it. I awoke with this feeling yesterday and it still haunts me. The story above is fictional, but captures what my heart felt early that morning. I try to spend the first moments of my day reading the Bible, a book on faith, and writing in my prayer journal. I sacrifice sleep to gain a perspective I cannot muster up on my own.

I looked at the clock and it was 5:30am. Still one full hour of sleep ahead of me and I really felt that I needed it. I felt this whisper in my heart, "Come with me." Not real words, no voice. Just this deep sense that if I got up and spent that time in prayer or devotion, I would find something there. It would be meaningful, special even. It felt important. So I bargained with God and went back to sleep. Before I knew it, the alarm went off and the day began. I felt regret and somehow knew the time we would have wouldn't be the same. It didn't require the same sacrifice that it would have in the dark, early hours.

My daughter woke up a full hour earlier than usual. I closed my book, cut short my time, and plunged into my daily roles without breaks. By the end of the day, I looked at my husband and said "Do you know what I could've used today? One hour more. Just one." I have felt that way before and I will feel it again. But. The One who knows me and knows what is in store for me...called me. Our time together is important, our ritual of listening and sharing, understanding more fully and falling in love with new discoveries about one another. Err my new discoveries because He already knows me. As I have drawn closer to Him in these past few weeks, His heart is made known to me. My heart is made known to me. You guys don't want me without Jesus, TRUST. The passion for life and people is intoxicating.

I ask God to speak clearly and to show up. But am I listening? And do I show up? I am postured for readiness, but my eyes are distracted and elsewhere. How many times have I missed this whisper? This gate to the secret garden, this wardrobe to another land? I seek to be transported, and yet how often do I take the first step?

So I chose not to dwell. You can bet your sweet tush I got out of bed today and made that time happen. There is still a sense that perhaps I missed something, but I also have this new appreciation for who God is. For the mountains He will climb and the rivers He will cross to impact our lives. Ultimately, His provision astounds me. I may have made some new discovery yesterday...maybe I would have been handed the key to unlock the door called "What's Next" for me and felt clarity about the next stage of life. See why I was so disappointed? THAT was on the line. Possibly. However, He still provided a sense of urgency and a repentance that was born out of weakness. Two choices, one future. Nothing in the trash. Nothing wasted, nothing lost. Moving right along. Like a daughter that wants to please her Father, I am listening.

"Before they call, I will answer; while they are yet speaking, I will hear." Isaiah 65:24

Connect to Protect

I love looking back on a year. I often sort of feel as though I'm just along for the ride as a year unfolds and the days seem to just happen to us. Looking back gives me a chance to see how it wove together, creating beautiful patterns and our very own tapestry.

This year, I want to track our story a little more closely and with a bit more intentionality. Each week, I aim to set a goal, form a pattern, track progress. I'm not one to stick with things, so this has already been a challenge! But I'd rather not behave like a bystander. This year, #intention52 is my mantra and I want to remain present each step of the way.

So week one // We played more and it was honestly a lot of fun! Normally at this time of year, I'm preparing for a women's event that requires lots of running around and last minute prep. I said no to the event this year and I haven't looked back. I was able to enjoy the holidays with my family, finish projects around the house, and hang out with my kids. We played hide and seek with friends, tried out new games, and dove head on into the land of make believe. I still had to cook, clean, and fold laundry. I pretended that we have a cleaning staff, but we do not. BUT it was ok. We connected in the spurts of time that we were together and it made all of our hearts a little fuller. When we choose to connect, we actively protect what our family is building.

What works:

*Have fun. Just do it. You'll feel better, I promise. Find the things that you enjoy and share them with your kiddos. Suck it up and do the things that they enjoy, as well. Whenever the kids want me to make a stuffed animal or doll talk, I turn it into play therapy and select a topic that will subtly teach them to be better humans. I can't help myself.

*Take turns. Make sure everyone has an opportunity to choose what you will be doing. This might be a positive reward from desired behavior and that totally works. But we are all more likely to play along when we feel like our turn is coming up next!

*Take breaks. Sometimes my husband played, sometimes I did. Sometimes we all did our own thing. It wasn't planned or discussed ahead of time. Having time to ourselves made it easier to connect because our personal little tanks were topped off.

*Be patient. The kids will still argue, you will still feel annoyed, overwhelmed, tired, etc. Your partner will feel like a roommate or colleague. Toys will break, dinner will be a bust, and the laundry will still need washed. And those dishes. Who invited them anyways? They are EVERYWHERE. But impatience will speed up your heart rate and intensify all of it. Anger, frustration, disappointment. They will establish expectations that will let you down and leave you feeling ravished. Acknowledge them, of course, because monsters are scariest in the dark. Then dethrone them because venting and dwelling do not solve problems. They retell the story and put it at the center of the day. Regroup and come back to it. It's okay to need a moment to yourself and it's okay to not have the answers on the spot. Be kind to yourself and to those around you because you're all figuring this out together. And you all want to look back on this story and love how it unfolded.

Grow Good Things

Welcome friends! If you’re joining me from my previous site, thank you for making the move. Most of us would agree that moving is THE WORST, but sometimes necessary and usually an upgrade. so consider this the second story, the in-ground pool, or the bonus room you always dreamed of. Oh and I for sure left a sock or four thousand dust bunnies behind. Moving on. 

I began blogging with the mission of creating. Maker, Please was my dream of  igniting creativity in others. The name was meant to be tongue-in-cheek and playful, never irreverent. That’s the writing style I pictured and loved. I have found my actual writing voice is much more serious than I anticipated. That must sound strange since I am in control of what I write. I’ve consciously decided to write out of the tender and vulnerable places in life because that’s where I believe real growth takes place.

However, recently I felt that it was time for a name change. My passion to write currently outweighs my desire to create physical objects. This season of life simply forces me to choose between the two. I have shifted  from wanting to share projects and ideas to pointing others to Jesus. It took some time and courage to be able to say that, but it’s the foundation of what I’m building here.

As I’m transferring posts to their new home, I realized Ephesians 2:10 has been the verse behind my work this entire time. It was in my first blog post and it was the driving force between me taking this blog to the next level. At a women’s conference recently, I heard the NLT version of this verse, which read “for we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” I started writing to point you to a creative God that has designed you to be creative, too. But when the words pour out, I find myself wanting you to see the good things set before you today. Your good things. Not her good things. Not all good things. But the good things set before you.

Thanks for joining me here. I hope that the same words that resonate in my heart will take shape and move in you. We are all creative in one way or another. We all were designed with a purpose and intention. Good works were literally set before us to ensure that we would make an impact and be known. You CAN take a step from the daily grind and find a moment to breathe into the places that light you up inside. Together let’s find the good things set before you today.