LIVING ON THE FRONT LINES

This year was the most unusual Remembrance Day I have ever witnessed. It was, to my recollection, the first time our family did not attend an official Remembrance Day ceremony together. Instead, I took our youngest child to church, were we observed the traditional moment of silence; the remainder of the family each observed the day independently.

I spent some time today thinking about how to present the subject of war to my 7-yr-old. He knows there were soldiers who died, but he has yet to see any videos or historical literature of the subject. Although I could easily turn on the TV and choose an appropriate show to share with him, I wondered if it would just seem like a movie to him. That's not how wars are fought today; it looks like a movie scene to our youngest generation.

So what do you say when your child asks if they will ever have to go to war? I have to be honest - my mind reels at the thought of my children ever being near an actual war zone. Yet, more importantly, we fight a war every day which we rarely talk about. It is a battle for our souls, our minds, our joy, and all things good and precious; we live on the front lines of a spiritual warfare every. single. day.

In any war, the first thing you must know is: Who is my enemy, and who is my ally? It is not so different in the war for our mind and soul. Besides Satan himself, I consider anyone an enemy who tries to sabotage my joy, my confidence, or my family. Allies are people who cheer for us, even when others would believe the worst of us. If you are unsure whether someone is for you, odds are very good they're not; true allies are vocal - not unlike parents on the sidelines of sporting events.

The next important thing to know in war is: What is my mission? I imagine in wars past the soldiers often questioned, "Why this hill?" Lives were lost claiming small pieces of land at a time; aren't we still like that today? We will risk a relationship to claim the small hill of being right. We will sacrifice our contentment for the prize of keeping up with our neighbor. Be careful which hills you choose to battle for; always consider the cost versus the reward.

If I were in a physical war, I would want to know what my weapons are. It is no different in the war for my well-being, or the war for my eternal life. Key weapons I have identified thus far are the promises of God, the power of prayer, the current of friendship, and the lantern of hope. Any one of these may get us through the day, but the combination is enough to carry us all the way to a victorious finish.

Perhaps the key question we can ask is: What am I fighting for? Our veterans fought for justice and liberty. Many wars today are about power and money. The war that is relevant to each of us, waged on our minds every day, is for eternity. There is no enemy attack where there is no prize to be gained. Rest assured that if you are feeling weary, battle-scarred and wounded, the enemy of your soul is trying to shift your focus to things of today so that you ignore all thoughts of eternity.

Show up to the front lines of your life today! Is your joy being robbed by fear, jealousy or bitterness? "Stand against the devil, and the devil will run from you." (James 4:7 NCV) Are you convinced that you don't have the strength to fight? "...And after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then..." Just stand. Your weapons - prayer, promises of God, friendship and hope - will serve you well if you do nothing but stand. Just show up.

Life is a battlefield, but there will be a winning side! I choose today to rebuke anything that would steal my peace. There will be days of loss and hardship, but the big picture says there's a big reward for just standing my ground. I'd love to have you standing beside me.

Please leave a comment below if I can pray for you today. None of us fight alone. That's the one beauty of a war zone.

Hugs,
Vicki

A THANK YOU TO FRIENDS PAST AND PRESENT

 

It is always the hardest seasons that bring forth the most growth in my life. So it has been with mixed emotions recently that I have dug deep and begun to remove the old to make room for the new. This is definitely hardest when it comes to people.

I have always thought friendships should last forever. Every single time I am wrong, I cry like a newborn who is abandoned and starving. It hurts my heart to lose someone who once knew my favorite treats, my hardest days, my moods and my secrets. I do not throw my heart open easily, and I am careful with promises. The end of a friendship feels like failure to me.

With all of that in mind, I feel that I have apologies to make. A recent challenge to purge the old, prepare for the new, and preserve the good has redefined my heart. 

 

 At the end of a growing season, the fruit is harvested from the garden. When there is excess, much of it is preserved, or prepared for storage. If one were to place the fresh food on the counter and simply leave it there, regardless of how much water and sunlight and company it receives, the food would rot. It must be preserved while it is still good and fresh. 

Preserved food still nourishes. In fact, once you have made pickles or jam/jelly and sealed the lid, you can even choose whether the food will nourish your household or someone else's. I am coming to understand that friendship is the same way. 

It is my duty to determine whether a friendship has been given to me for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Friendships given for a reason typically identify themselves quickly: You know when you encounter someone who meets a need in your life. The difficulty for me has been differentiating between the seasonal and lifetime friendships. 


And so comes my apology. Some of you were meant to be my friends for a season. We were apples  on different branches. We grew side by side for a while, sharing sunny days and weathering rainy ones together. Then our branches grew in different directions. 


Yes, we could still hear the same soundtrack: birds singing sweetly whole children grew and flew our nests, then grandchildren arrived. We were still nourished by the same roots: whether it was childhood memories, a love for God, or our involvement in a group together; the memories bonded us. But we were farther apart now, and nothing could change the fact that we were heading in different directions.

I kept listening to the soundtrack, hoping we could continue dancing in step together. I didn't understand that apples are seasonal fruit; as such, they must fall. Some will wind up in the same pie, having spent all their days together. Others will land in separate baskets, and while they may be aware of each other's fates, it is from a distance. I tried to keep us both attached to the tree, and risked us both rotting there; changing seasons demand to be recognized. 

Like fruit picked in season, our time together has ended. Like apples turned into a jar of jelly, you are in the storage room of my heart. And when days grow cold and my coffee is poured and I sit with the Bread of Life, the jelly of memories made together will nourish us both. It will keep my heart soft, while the prayers I offer with your name whispered will find their way to you as blessings big and small. 

Thank you, my friends for a reason. Whether you met my need or whether I met yours - I am blessed to have been with you. 

Thank you, my friends for a season. I would not be who I am today without our days together. And falling hurts, but it preserves us.

Thank you, my lifetime friends. You are few in number, but rich in grace and love. We have been through every season and you still see value in me. 

If friendship were a garden, I have grown the most beautiful flowers. Keep blooming, my friends. 

OH THE HUMANITY!

Life is full of humbling moments, and I seem to be "enjoying" my share these days. You know, the ones where you call someone out for a mistake and then make the same mistake the next day? About that.

I am ever learning to keep my words sweet, lest I need to eat them later. The challenge lies in calling out the best in others without coming across as though I, myself, am perfect. Nothing could be further from the truth!

Proverbs 27:17 reads, "As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another." As much as I want to be the iron that sharpens others, sometimes I, too, must be sharpened. And that's humbling. I learn best from those sharpening experiences which leave me feel as though someone has imparted wisdom to me - not the ones where I leave feeling embarrassed or like I just screwed up one more thing.

And I'm learning. I'm learning that it's OK to be on both sides of the sharpening tool. I'm learning to be careful with hearts. I'm learning the power of words - something we start learning at a very young age, but don't fully understand until many years later. I'm learning the value of friends who call out the best in me and invest in me.

Another verse that comes to mind is 1 Corinthians 10:12, which says, "If you think you are strong, you should be careful not to fall." I picture a runner falling on the track, or a bodybuilder suddenly dropping the weights previously lifted so easily. Can you imagine how humiliated they might feel? How important it would be in such a moment to have members of your community who can say, "I've been there!" - and mean it!

Last week, I wrote here about my disappointment with the support my daughter received/didn't receive. And within days, I learned that I had failed to support a dear friend through a very hard chapter. Sure, I noticed her absence in our usual circles - but when I asked, I was told she was investing some time in relaxation and yard care. And I assumed she had chosen another circle on Sundays. There's that word "assume" again ...

The truth is, she lives less than a 5 minute drive from my home. The truth is, I should have knocked on her door and asked her directly where she'd been. The truth is, I need to be better at sending text messages instead of using my phone for social media. The truth is, I am now on the other side of the sharpening knife. And it stings a little.

So I continue learning. I'm learning the true definition of grace. I'm learning that grace must be given before it can be received. Last week, I rebuked the spirit of bitterness, knowing that I may well be the next person to let my community down. This week, I am so grateful that grace is like the water in a decorative fountain: it is continuously drawn up and poured out again.

To all of my "sharpening" friends: Thank you! Thank you for grace, and for seeing the shine underneath my rough exterior. You are treasures, buried deep in my heart.

Blessings to each of you today.

The Way of Words

Have you ever read a book that completely and utterly undid you? I mean the kind of book that rips you open, and you wonder how the author wrote your heart on paper. Ann Voskamp's books do that to me.

It was January 27th of this year (I checked!) when I received an e-mail at work that stopped me cold. The subject line read simply, "If You Are What You Love, What Are You?" Grateful that my manager understood my daily devotional as my wellness, I knew I would need to really absorb what Lisa-Jo Baker had written. It is early May now, and that e-mail remains in my inbox at work, because I have been wrestling with the answer.

In February, I found myself reading Ann Voskamp's latest book, The Broken Way. Not at all unusual in my world, her writings both struck a chord in my heart and coincided well with almost every Scripture and inspirational writing I picked up at the time. I struggled between reading the book slowly enough to soak it in or reading it all at once! One of the pieces that grabbed my attention was this fresh perspective on love:

 

      "But isn't this the way of love? Love bears all things? 'To bear', stego in the Greek. It

      literally means a thatch roof. Love is a roof... Real love is a roof. Real love makes

      you into a shelter... makes you into a safe place. Real love makes you safe. Stego."

 

Whenever I imagine a thatched roof, I picture a home built into a hillside, with the natural grass surface as a roof. (In all likelihood, this stems from the days my younger bookworm self read the stories of Laura Ingalls Wilder, in a dirt-floor home with a thatched roof.) But something new came to mind this time: that kind of roof would have creatures living in it! Not just creatures you chose for pets, but rodents and spiders and worms. Undesirables.

 

 

 

What do you do when you build a safe place and messy, undesirable things happen? When conflict happens. When you're always chosen last. When a spouse leaves. When you lose a child. When friendships fall apart. When family dissolves. When you find yourself miles from home, busy but empty. What then?

 

      "Your one broken heart always splits God's heart in two. You never cry alone."

 

I've had this conversation with my best friend. We are, each of us, very alone in our current geographic locations. Despite being 10 hours away, Sara has been my closest option for a coffee date. It goes without saying there have been more pity trips than road trips, each of us calling the other in moments of overwhelming loneliness.

 

      "What if instead of waiting for good things to happen to us, we could be the

      good thing to happen to someone else who's waiting? Every soul wants to

      experience a powerful connection... to be fully seen and experienced by Someone."

 

I read this last quote just before lying the book aside to participate in a book launch for Lisa-Jo Baker's Never Unfriended. Around the same time, Lysa Terkeurt's Uninvited arrived in the mail: a thoughtful birthday gift from Sara. As I read through these two books on friendship, I learned that I was far from alone in my fear of being the new girl, in my failed efforts to maintain long-distance friendships, and in my tears over the next steps. Confirmation of Ann's words above encouraged me to become the friend I had been waiting for. Where to start?

 

The dear long-distance friend who mourns the loss of her mom today as though it happened yesterday. The fellow high school graduate who lives in a remote territory with no extended family and very little sunlight. The woman I was led to through the strangest of coincidence, and whom knew I was called to encourage. The Life Groups starting up with church families. The mom of littles up the road who loses sleep while her children gain teeth. These are people I can reach with handmade cards, with gift cards, with cups of coffee and potluck suppers and random text messages.

 

Even as my reach begins to extend, I begin to see and hear repetitions of 1 Corinthians 13 everywhere. The emphasis is specifically on love and kindness. I realize that, while I am making strides personally, I have work to do professionally. My reaction is not always kind when I hang up the phone or delete the email. And in the middle of our industry's busiest season, I pick up The Broken Way after a 3-month hiatus, and begin to read Chapter 8.

 

With the flip of a page, it leaps out at me:

 

      "You are whatever you love ... We give our lives to things we never would if we got

      honest and thought about them for one single moment. Our ideals never compel like

      our loves."

 

And I get it. I have spent hours scrolling social media, with the strongest connection made being my WiFi connection. I have invested time chasing Pokémon for my 5 year old when we could have been cuddling over a book instead. I have extended open invitations to stop in for a beverage rather than delivering a coffee or cookies to someone who's struggling. I have lamented my lack of effective influence while often being impatient and less than kind in my circle of influence. Ideals versus love.

 

I am humbled that God would spend 3 months making sure I understood the message. I am thankful that His mercies are new every morning. I am determined to love, because He has loved me so faithfully and so unconditionally. May I learn, and be known for, that kind of love.

 

 

"Never Unfriended" - It's As Great As It Sounds!

It was a simple comment on a devotional, typed from my desk at the office. I truly didn't think I even had a chance of being selected for the Book Launch Team... but I felt impressed to share my heart on the subject of community. That's the funny thing about women: we often get used to rejection, but are somehow determined to conquer it.

The Book Launch invitation came with a digital sample of Lisa-Jo Baker's book, Never Unfriended. I had read no further than the first paragraph of the introduction before I was hooked! When I read the following quote, I knew this book would be one of those rare, life-changing reads:

"We want to matter to the people we think matter."

 

I had spent my entire life trying to matter:

• To my father, who always chose my sister when each parent took one sibling
• To the one schoolteacher who understood the depths of my sorrow after my grandfather passed, but excluded me from attending her wedding
• To the cousin who took my only sibling for a one-on-one drive when he got his driver's license
• To the boy who called me "Darling", but didn't respect my moral boundaries
• To the man I first chose as my husband and father to my children, who beat me mercilessly while pursuing other women
• To my step-daughter, whose attachment issues magnified my own inadequacies
• To anyone. Anyone at all.

 

Never Unfriended unfolded like the pages of an old journal. It spoke of friendship PTSD, of the fear of being and/or welcoming the new girl, and of unresolved conflict. My life was nothing if not a series of all of the above! The sting of rejection and fear of conflict had led me to abandon a number of relationships to avoid more of either. This book is a manual for people who, like me, have grown tired of trying.

 

If you think you are alone in your friendship frustrations, please read Never Unfriended. Rays of hope shine from every page as Lisa-Jo Baker shares both her wounds and steps to healing. Tears will fall and spirits will rise as you read a book that ministers so deeply to the heart that it is impossible to put down. Never Unfriended has traveled with me to the lunchroom, to the bathroom, and to a hotel room. It will continue to travel in my heart.

I am so grateful to have been chosen as part of the Book Launch Team for Never Unfriended! I have been blessed by the fellow Team members, who shared stories, graphics and prayers. Authors like Lisa-Jo Baker, who come alive on the page and seem to sip your coffee with you as you read, are rare treasures. I see every woman through new eyes: I understand now that the challenge is the same for all of us - it is merely our reactions that differ.

 

Near the beginning, the author writes, "No one can make us quite as unsure about ourselves as another woman." The remaining pages are a road map to this eloquent statement near the end of the book: "Our business is to believe the best about people. We are not their judge, their jury, and we are certainly not their god. We are intended to be their blessing. On purpose."

 

My heart's desire is still to matter - but not to the people I think matter. I want to matter because I have made the world a warmer place with friendship offered freely.

 

 





Forty Is Fabulous!

Y'all, I have got to try to put my excitement into words right now!

Today, I am 40 years old - a landmark which I have been so excited to reach! (I know, I'm weird ... and I'm OK with it.) But so much is happening so quickly that I can already tell this will be a wonderful decade for me, even if it is cut short by the end of the world. :)

My best friend randomly called a couple of days ago and asked if I've read Lysa Terkeurst's new book, "Uninvited." Although I've read plenty of excerpts online and fought the urge to order it on my credit card, I have not yet read the book. This was great news to Sara, who simply responded, "Good! I'm sending it to you; happy birthday. We're going to read it together." I was so excited! This goes well with the call I have been feeling to deepen relationships.

To add to that, I opened my e-mail yesterday to find I had been invited to participate in a book launch. Somehow, God thought it would be funny to launch me from 4.5 years of no close relationships into a season of opportunity that blows me completely away. The name of the book is "Never Unfriended" - so you just know it's going to be full of nuggets to bless my life! :)

Today, during a rare zero-work-on-my-desk moment, I pulled out the copy of Ann Voskamp's "The Broken Way" from my purse. An excerpt from today's chapter reads, "Every soul ... wants to experience a powerful connection. We want to be fully seen and experienced by Someone ... we want to know the wonder of being intimately known." Have more accurate words ever been written? And has anything ever been more timely?

Ten years ago, I was in isolation in a Children's Hospital room with my son. We were both fighting influenza A; my boy nearly lost that battle. I have joked a number of times that it was a pretty clear indicator of how the next decade would go: a struggle to be sure! How blessed I am today, then, to begin a new decade in a state of being seen, known, and understood. Each person in the book launch group has a heart wish exactly like mine: deeper connections.

If there's anything I know, it's that life is about seasons. I feel like I am entering a season of realizing hopes and dreams. I welcome new experiences, new friendships, and restoration in wounded places. I am grateful to have a few close friends along for the journey, and look forward to blessing others as I grow.

Yaaaayyyy! :-)

Disconnected

Disconnected: It summarizes how I feel these days. I've never been so actively involved in a community and so isolated at the same time.

I live in a village of approximately 200 people. Part of the charm was that it was so tiny, we would have no trouble knowing all our neighbors in a very short time. It turns out that the neighbor who assisted us in buying a home here was acting on a business decision, and not the friendship I'd had my heart set on. The remainder of the neighbors are friendly, but content to wave as they walk by; nobody stops for coffee on the freshly-constructed patio.

I work full-time. As former receptionist in our office, I know most of the staff by name, with the exception of a few newer faces. Still, given the climate I work under at the moment, I feel guilty leaving my seat unless it's work-related; this limits my social interaction to 30 minutes in the lunchroom each day. I look forward to that time more than you know! I schedule my time in the lunchroom when I know there will be a table full of guys who love to forget cell phones exist. They actually have a conversation and spend a lot of time laughing; those few brief moments together make the work day so much more bearable!

I serve on the board of a local Youth Center, after moving on from the local daycare board. Speaking of daycare, this is the part of my social life that's so much fun! It was warmer outdoors this week, so windows were opened for fresh air. The moment my husband and I reached the gate of the daycare property, we could hear kids squealing; we instantly knew what was happening inside. We opened the door to find the director of the daycare with hands on hips and a crooked grin. "[Your son] is not here," she said, adding "They all disappeared. You must have heard them from outside." Oh we heard them! And we know that they run and hide because they love being chased down and kissed and tickled and boogied to exhaustion. Or maybe that's just the second highlight of my day ... who knows?!

I attend church regularly, which translates to once a week in this corner of the world. I miss my Sunday evening service, my weekly involvement with the Youth Group, choir practice and ladies' meetings. I had asked God to "set the lonely in a family" (Ps. 68:6), but it's hard to build a relationship that feels anything like family on mere minutes per week. I remember how relieved I was when I realized my first crew of kids was old enough that I was not required to spend half of every service in the church nursery; alas, I am back at Square One. Although not in the nursery, I am required to keep tabs on a very busy little person, which hampers quality conversation. Thus I find myself greeting people for seconds at a time, ineffectively trying to communicate my love for them in rushed "Hello, how was your week? I'm good thanks - see you later! Praying for you," mouthfuls of good intentions.

I know that part of the problem is living in such a rural area. Everything is a drive; people are busy rushing to the city each weekend for groceries and diapers and clothing. Connection to humans outside of your home requires intentional planning and some degree of juggling to get everything done. Text messages are quick and easy, and social media fools many into thinking they are connected to hundreds of people simultaneously. The kind of friendship I'm looking for goes deeper.

I want a friend who will make me a better person. Challenge me to higher ideals. Encourage me in my marriage. Cry with me on hard parenting days. Ask me if I've talked to Jesus about it yet. Cheer for my career goals. Tell me I made a crappy cup of tea/coffee. Look me in the eye and tell me that menopause is no big deal, and that empty nesting isn't as hard as I'm making it out to be. Then call me to apologize when you figure out I was actually right about both of those last two topics. :-)

No man is an island, they say. I'd be content to be an island if a stray survivor would swim up to short now and then. And yes, I'm going to have another little talk with Jesus about this. Something tells me that getting my connection with Him right will be key. Perhaps this disconnected feeling is really just because we were never meant to call this world home. <3