If the Church Bells were Quiet

If the church bells were quiet 

And the candles unlit 

And the building was empty, save one in pulpit 

 If the people could not join their hands down the aisle 

 If they had to put coverings over their smile 

 The stage unadorned 

 And the choir rows sparse 

 If they had to tune in from a speaker in cars 

 Would the church as we know it then cease to exist?

 Or perhaps, is The Church something different than this? 

 Can we still be at church if we're not in a seat?

 Or are we The Church when we're made hands and feet

 Are we robbed of the church if we're not in a place? 

 Or are we fully a church when The Church is a face

 Is church where we gather? Or is Church where we give 

 Is church where we hear a message? Or is the message how we live 

 When building is absent, can Body still grow?  

Where candles are darkened, can't our Light still show? 

 Where church bells are silent, can't Spirit still sing? 

If there's not any address, is Church still a thing? 

 The answer is yes, for we aren't wall or steeple 

 We are Christ's Bride: The Church is a people 

 And where two or more are gathered in Name, then the Spirit of God is there just the same. 

 So where church bells are quiet 

 Maybe we can ring out

 Living Stones being built in a spiritual house ❤️

You Have Something Beautiful

Global pandemic.

Nation-wide quarantine.

Indefinite isolation.

I started this blog almost a decade ago now as a way to work through things like motherhood, military life, deployments, faith, and honestly, just figuring out how in the world to be a grownup. I could have never guessed back then that I would also use it to help me process the crazy events of this past month.


This story is coming to you from interior Alaska--Day 29

Some fun facts before we begin: We just wrapped up the fourth coldest winter on record up here. We haven't seen the grass since October. There is still FEET of snow on the ground. And when I woke up yesterday morning, my weather app said it was -6 degrees, so who knows?!--Maybe we're also gunning for fourth coldest spring.
You would think that interior Alaska would be a fine and fair place to isolate, and I guess that could be true for people not living on military installations. But we have our difficulties up here, too. We have very limited access to medical facilities if we do get sick. Number of healthcare workers? Not wanting to worry my pretty, unwashed head about that. No matter how far apart we are, we all go to the same few stores to grab our essential items. (There is no Target here, adding insult to injury.) Grub Hub ain't coming to me. Amazon already didn't ship certain things to us before this craziness so it's a real crap-shoot right now. Oh, and we don't have any toilet paper either.
In -6 degrees...
And feet of snow...

Words cannot express the jealousy I feel over people who are lazing away in backyard hammocks. Or swimming in their pools. Or dining on their patios. Or tending to their gardens. Or running outdoor trails. Honestly, I feel a very strong urge to buy a $2 round-trip plane ticket so I can stand six feet away and yell at them whenever they complain.
I can't watch anything on HGTV right now without thinking to myself, "Ooooh! Bet it would be nice to be quarantined there..."

All this longing for warm weather and the great outdoors has left me daydreaming about our last home in central Texas. We had a beautiful acre and a half with a pond. Bluebonnets were all over it. There was a garden, and a hammock, and an outdoor dining area, and a covered patio with a chimenea, and a herd of whitetail deer that would probably be owning the joint right now, causing a real ruckus with the garden and the dogs. But as good as all those amenities were, the thing I miss the most about that place was the glorious running trail not a mile from the house. It was my favorite.
I've thought about that trail a lot over these last 29 days.

But this morning I remembered one encounter I had on the trail in particular.
It was a weekday afternoon a few years back, and all four of us were out riding bikes on the trail. There was a section of the trail with a steep grade over a bridge that asked bike riders to dismount, and so Nate led the pack while the kids and I followed behind him. There was a woman on the oncoming side of us just ahead on the trail, accompanied by an older woman and two younger children. They stood off to the side and greeted Nathan and the kids in the amicable Texan way as we walked our bikes past them. As my eyes met hers in expectation of a similar greeting, she looked right at me and instead declared,

"You have something beautiful."

I offered an awkward thank you as I mounted back on my bike to ride away after my family, both surprised and humbled by her directness. Her words hummed around in my brain right along with the sound of my bike spokes and the wind whirring past my face until they landed firmly in my heart. You see, she couldn't have known how sweet that bike ride was for me and my kids...or how my husband had just gotten home from his third deployment...or how he had turned down an opportunity at work so we could move into the house right next to that trail...or that we had been desperate to create more moments like these for our family. She couldn't have known all the hard things that helped make that beautiful moment happen.

Today, as I replayed that scene in my head yet another time, I realized something new: I didn't know what hard things made her say those precious words to me.
I didn't know if she had recently lost her husband...or if they were divorced...or if he was away on business...or if he was even in the picture at all. I don't know if she felt a jealous or sad. All I do know is she could have used our brief encounter to ponder privately, but instead she used it to edify me.
(Years later, awkward and humbled once again.)

We're all going through hard things right now, and I've been pondering it all privately. However, I think I'd like to take a cue from the lady on the trail and tell you what I see.

***

To the mamas making adorable theme nights in your home to celebrate with your family even though your vacation plans were cancelled; who are stringing birthday celebrations out of thin air...
You are making your family feel special and loved. You are making happy memories in a hard time. You are creating joy out of loss.
"You have something beautiful."

To the families that are learning how to sew together to donate goods; who are making it a point to drive past their friends houses to wave on a hard day; who have dropped off or mailed out meals or treats or goodies so people do not feel forgotten...
You are teaching your children how to serve others in spirit and in deed. You are teaching the rest of us how to stay truly connected, even in the midst of isolation.
"You have something beautiful."

To the teachers who are putting together learning opportunities for your students all hours of the day at home; who are making themselves available for email and video chat all the time; who are making worksheets and experiments that you are sharing for us parents outside your district via social media; who are out with the district delivering meals so no family is overlooked; to the homeschooling community who helped us navigate the waters of those first tricky days...
You are showing us the readiness and resiliency of the loving heart. Even remotely, you are still giving us a village to help raise our babies.
"You have something beautiful."

To the mamas/dads who are doing this solo...
You are your child's champion. You are their safe place. I promise you, you are their inspiration. You are going into every single one of their application essays from now until the end of time. You look like sacrificial, faithful, amazing love.
"You have something beautiful."

To the people who are navigating this all alone...
You are amazing and selfless. You are making art. You are making us laugh. You are making us cry. You are making us remember why we were given community...you are reminding us to be a better one.
"You have something beautiful."

To the essential workers who are going into work every single day into a work atmosphere that's just gone plumb crazy, then come home and help field the emotional burden of your family that has been stuck at home (direct shout-out to my husband)...
How are you doing it, selflessly giving yourself all day long? Coming home and stripping down and showering off, and then showing *all the way up for us.* Not taking any time to decompress. Not making me feel too needy. Giving me grace for my outbursts when you are under just as much stress, if not more so.
You have been doing this all along for us, and I didn't always see it.
"You have something beautiful." That lady on the trail was so right. I have something beautiful in you.

To the mamas who have new babies in this crazy time...
You are making love bigger than fear. You are helping us all remember the beauty of life right when it seems the most frail.
"You have something beautiful."

To my stay-at-home mamas...
You do not always feel valued. I want you to remember that in this moment, the world turned sideways and all your family had to do was go into the sanctuary of the space you had been creating for them all along. Home-cooked meals and family dinners were already commonplace. Home was ready and waiting for them. You were ready and waiting. Things were changing up left and right, but you offered stability. If you feel like that was not a contribution in this time, then you are wrong. You have created the haven of home for your loved ones.
"You have something beautiful."

***

There are so, so many more things to see, and I know I'm nowhere close to touching the scope of this.
There is beauty all in the hard things. That's part of what makes them so beautiful.
Just do me and the lady on the trail a favor. If you see something beautiful, then just say it.

Ax Heads and Armies

I thought I was going to pick up a sad little boy from school today. Have you ever been there, mamas? It's the absolute worst--thinking that the happy face he had in the morning would be exchanged for disappointment at pickup.

You see, he was scheduled to have a play date with one of his buddies after school. The boys had been arranging it for a while now, and it was pretty cute. They had each of us moms meet the other in the school parking lot several days prior to exchange numbers. Plans were discussed at recess by the boys. Arrangements were made by the moms last night. So this morning he skipped sweetly away, thinking his buddy was going to be riding home with us after the bell rang to play.

Not five minutes after drop off, though, my phone lit up with a message:
I'm so sorry. My son said he wasn't feeling up for the play date today.

My heart sank.
I told her it was okay, because of course it was!--after all, I've said yes to things that I've had to reluctantly back out of after realizing it was just going to be too much for me to handle that day. But respecting the mental and physical needs of another little boy didn't take away the fact that mine was going to be so let down if his buddy couldn't come over, and knowing that made me ache inside.

I spent a good portion of the next parts of my morning worrying about this hiccup in my boy's "best laid plans." There was nothing I could do, I decided. I would just have to cross that teary bridge with him when we got there this afternoon.

I started my morning Bible study, but couldn't focus. I just kept thinking about what his poor little face would look like when I saw him next.
Oh Lord. I'm so sad for him. Help me focus on Your Word today.

I reread the verses that seemed blurred by my busy brain with no better luck.

I'm sorry. I'm still distracted.

Reread. No dice.

(In defeat.) Help me focus... and then in a flash of clarity... Help me remember to pray for my son after this reading.

BOOM. It was like a magic bullet. Reading completed. Prayer said. Onslaught of peace and gratitude--not because everything was immediately fixed or even remotely changed, but simply because of the realization that I have the freedom to talk to an all-powerful God about something as trivial as my son's botched play date plans, and He loves us enough to listen.

It reminded me of an account I read in 2 Kings only a few days before. The kingdom of Israel is in conflict with Aram, and tensions are heating and raids are taking place throughout the land. And yet, in the middle of this war story, we see a scene squeezed right dab in the middle about a prophet named Elisha and his students building themselves a newer, bigger house:

So he [Elisha] went with them. They came to the Jordan River and began to cut down trees.

As one of them was cutting down a tree, the ax head fell into the water. He cried out, “Oh no, master! It was borrowed!”

The man of God asked, “Where did it fall?” When he showed Elisha the place, Elisha cut off a piece of wood. He threw it into the water at that place and made the ax head float. Elisha said, “Pick it up.” The disciple reached for it and picked it up.
(2 Kings 6:4-7)

That's it. End of the whole house scene.

I'll be honest. I kind of glossed over this story when I originally read it, because immediately following this 'random' ax story, the rest of the chapter covers the miraculous "big time" account of the prophet and his men escaping certain doom at the hand of the warriors of Aram.
Like so many little things, the ax head story kind of faded into the background of the big story for me. But if I've learned anything at all in my years, it's this:
God faithfully shows big love in the little things, too.
And so the "little ax head story" came back into big-time view for me today.


I wondered, how many times have I not brought some of my issues to God in prayer because they didn't seem worthy of His attention? Because they weren't "big time" issues? Because I didn't think it would matter to Him?--the very same God who found it worthwhile to concern Himself with knowing the number of hairs on my head.

1 Peter 5:7 says to "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you."
Y'all. All of it!
It doesn't say cast your big ticket items on Him for that's all He cares about. He wants us to bring Him all of it.
The things that seem big and scary and impossible, yes, but also the things that we excuse as small or unworthy. He wants to be the Lord of those things in our lives just as much.
All your heart. All your mind. All your soul. All your strength.
All your anxieties.
He cares about all of you.
Because He loves us.

Isn't that crazy?
He's in control of ax heads and armies.
New houses and old wars.
Number of hairs and number of days.

And you guys. Our big God will even help us out with our little boy's play dates ❤️
He's Lord over all of it!

Girl, I Can Explain

I wanted to publicly apologize for my last blog post.

There are some things about it that have been bugging me for like the past 48 hours now, so I figure I better own up to them if I hope to earn back any of my head space.

1. I apologize for my negative tone. There's enough of that on the internet as it is, and we don't need any more of it. I wrote and published that post when I supposed to be making dinner, and I see now that a body should never type out their thoughts on any matter when they are probably more suited to star in a Snickers commercial.
2. I apologize to anyone who I may have unintentionally shamed or insulted for being a fan of Mrs. Hollis. God forbid that something I write might resonate with or encourage you, only for a person to come slap it right out of your heart, hangrily protesting "What has she ever done to deserve to tell you these things?!" I'm sorry if I did that, friend.
3. I apologize to Rachel Hollis, because I am certain she is one of the 37 people who read my last post. She works hard, no doubt. She has a team of people who work just as hard. She's obviously very, very good at what she does, and it was never my intention to suggest otherwise.

It was my intention to make you think about what advice you follow and why, and to remind you that you are just as capable and qualified and important as any influencer with a blue check mark by their name.

I used to think that "social media influencer" was some sort of unofficial descriptor--just a guy or gal with a bunch of followers. It never dawned on me for a second that it was a legitimate job title. But it is--and it's a fast-growing market, friends. Companies small and large are discovering that they can use influencers to sell their products with such high rates of success that some companies are even offering to train people in the "field of influencing," so that they can make the person (and thereby their product) even more profitable. And it's working!!
It's all a crazy, profit-bloated empire being built on the algorithms of our "likes."

No big deal, right? People have been trying to sell us stuff forever. This is no different...And hey, maybe it isn't.

But my hesitation comes from an unsettling feeling that social media influencers don't really think this is what they're doing. I believe that they briefly acknowledge the marketing as a small part of what they do, but they are convinced that the real impact of their online presence is serving the general populous for a greater good. They're not trying to sell us things. They're trying to make a change for the better.

Because of the bombardment of ads, info, and influence coming at us all the time, I feel like the lines between expert and influencer have been blurred. So, how might one spot an influencer?
-They have really generalized goals. If their end goal is to help you "chase your wildest dreams" or "unlock the true, hidden you" or "live your ultimate life with no apologies"...then get ready, because someone is about to tell you how this meal delivery service is a game changer that you can't live without.
-They shot a video of themselves in the car. They just got out of a really important team meeting, conference date, or coffee store errand and they they can't wait to tell you about it.
-Unnecessary selfie. There is a really heartfelt letter to her 10,000 closest friends (and whoever they feel led to share with) that you have to click "expand" on and then scroll down three times to read...captioned by a picture of her taking a giant bite out of a cheeseburger.
-She calls her followers "her tribe." Moms who are late. Moms who are messy. Moms who wear messy buns but not in a cute way (but it's totally cute, because she has a stylist and professional photographer as paid staff on her team...)
Hear me, sister. If you are in a "tribe," then you better darn well know who the chief is.

Silliness aside, these people are not dumb. They are incredibly smart and hard-working. They are paying attention to what is trending and jumping right on to ride the train. They are seeing what gets positive responses, what gets filtered, what gets seen, what gets searched, what gets scrolled, and they build for their client base just like any good business person would do. We're being wooed! But why?
Well, because we=likes=views=more product backing=more money=more notability=more likes...repeat to infinity.
Only that's not what anyone admits is happening. We're saving the world, one cheeseburger photo at a time.

Which brings me to this.
4. I said there were no ill feelings, but there were. Really, truly not toward any person, just in general. I'm mad at the system. But I can't point at the speck without pulling out the post in my own eye.
Maybe you've noticed the link to nowhere on the right side of my page. Maybe you've "liked" it or shared it. Maybe you think that picture of 24-year-old me is what I really still look like. It's all a humbling reminder to me that I would have walked down the same path I'm vilifying and thought I was doing the right thing.
Silly as it sounds, I count it one of the blessings of my life that this failed. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that if it had done what I hoped for, I would have built a little "tribe" full of people that I would have banked all my self-worth on, and it would have ripped me apart and spit me out. I would have researched and flow-charted my way into your hearts, if you would have let me, and I would have done whatever I thought was worthy to keep you. I would have become a sellout and not even known I was doing it.
Praise God for failure, friends! It can be a redeeming thing, too. (Anything can, in His hands.)

So there. Now that that's out, maybe I can finally move on to the next right thing--whatever that may be.

Love to all,
Liz

Proverbs 4:23-27 – Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. Keep your mouth free of perversity; keep corrupt talk far from your lips. Let your eyes look straight ahead; fix your gaze directly before you. Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways

Girl, You Are Fine

My mother-in-law buys us a new book for every occasion, and I just love her for it.
Before her gifts, I'm pretty sure that I had not purchased a book for myself to read since ... ever? ... so I can confidently say that if it weren't for my her, the only books on my shelves would have been ones like you'd find in children's section of a community library. She's the person who has single-handedly kept me from feeling like I had to rhyme all the time (it's sublime!) or speak in a funny voice (unless by choice.) (And yes, I think I'm amusing. lol)
She sends me a plethora of genres because I don't know exactly what I like--or maybe I just like everything. Sometimes I plow right through them and sometimes they sit on my shelf for a bit. Today I stumbled across one that she sent me a couple years ago that had somehow escaped its turn to be read, so I pulled it from its hiding place on the shelf and curled up on the couch with it and my hot cocoa, expecting to slip into literary bliss.

Maybe y'all have already read this one. It's Rachel Hollis's "Girl, Stop Apologizing," her follow-up work to her wildly successful, "Girl, Wash your Face."

Here are some things I need to tell you before I move on:
-I have not read "Girl, Wash your Face."
-With that title and her massive following, I totally and completely 100% thought that Rachel Hollis was one of the ladies who founded Rodan and Fields. (And who I am just now realizing must actually be named Rodan or Fields. Lord, help me. HAHAHAHA!)
-I have only just now 20 minutes ago finished reading the intro to "Girl, Stop Apologizing," so my knowledge about this book is ridiculously limited, but my opinions are rising and spilling out of me to the point that I felt I needed to share these next thoughts with you...


Sweet Rachel Hollis--for whom I have absolutely ZERO ill feelings so please don't mistake me in this--is, according to my Google search, a small town girl who became an aspiring actress---> who failed at acting and began an event planning agency---> who found that blogging was perhaps more lucrative and so started a recipe blog--->which led to her making a couple cookbooks that probably not many people had heard of until--->SHE POSTED A STORY ABOUT HER STRETCHMARKS THAT WENT VIRAL ON INSTAGRAM--->so she became a self-help mogul, building a multi-million dollar company as a best-selling author, renowned speaker, and an expert in the field of self care. (And with nary a face soap of her creation in sight. lol)

You guys. We are giving online influencers like Rachel--again, I harbor ZERO ill feelings--SO.FREAKING.MUCH. of our time and money and trust and ourselves by implementing their ideals into our daily lives. And why? To what credit? Because she's discovered the secret to success and happiness and self-love? NO!
Because we liked the bathing suit photo she took of herself, and it went viral.

(I don't want to undersell her efforts here, because as a blogger/business woman, obviously she was very savvy to capitalize on the momentum of that post and work hard to see it through to fruition--and to that I say well done.)

But the point I'm trying to make here is that many of us follow this woman and don't really know why. We assume that she knows more than us or better than us, and it's highly likely she doesn't. She's touted as an expert in the field and so we just believe that she is. She's one of the most sought-after motivational speakers of our time.
A woman with merely two more years of life lived than yours truly.
Wiser women are among us, friends. (Seriously, ZERO hard feelings, just extremely probable musings.)

I'm sure that the fame-inducing photo had to be published online at the exact moment of a convergence of lightening, because I personally know many people--some who are reading this post right now-- who have said things that are just as valuable. Just as smart. Just as moving. Just as witty. Just as true.
To be sure, success absolutely requires hard work, but crazy Princess Di stories like Rachel's often take off with a magic bullet of lucky timing...and you just can't write a self-help book about that.


Now I really am optimistic I'll find some helpful gems awaiting me in this book that I will mull over or consider putting into practice. In fact, I'm even a little hopeful for it. But I really feel like we need to look at modern day influencers with an eye of wariness.

And then perhaps our own selves with a bit (or a boatload) more credit.

Because girl, you are fine. You're just waiting on your lightning to strike.


*insert bathing suit photo here*
;)

James 3:17-18 English Standard Version (ESV)
But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.