The Difference of Christmas

Y'all know how I love a good plan. There are few things I love more than creating lists and accomplishing tasks and checking things off.  Seriously, it's so bad that when my friend finished her back-to-school shopping last year and wondered out loud how she was going to find the time to sort and label the mountain that is four kids' school supplies, one of them actually said to her, "Why don't you call Ms. Jen?  You know how much she loves to do stuff!"  I'm not even joking.  And it's true.  When I'm faced with two weeks off of work to celebrate the holidays, my default reaction to is start making a list of everything I want to do during the break.  I'm nothing if not intentional... especially with my time.

And this year?  Oh my, this year my plan for Christmas break was a good one.  Cleaning, writing, catching up at the office, sorting and decluttering in preparation for my move, and of course the usual baking, shopping, and celebrating that comes with the season.  And in between all of that, I was also going to take care of five dogs and two cats while their owners traveled for the holidays.  All in all, these two weeks were going to be just what I needed to recharge and whip things into shape.

The problem with having such a detailed plan is that things rarely happen the way we, well, plan for them to.  If you're a list-maker like me, then you also know how much God loves to derail our well-thought-out plans and instead likes to surprise us with things that keep us on our toes (and our knees).  As my luck would have it, I ended up coming down with the flu the last week before vacation.  So much for productivity!  Nothing says slow down like four days in bed, but even after I started to feel like myself again, the precedent for my vacation had been set:

Do what you can, and don't worry about the rest.

As it turns out, "doing what I can" meant not doing a bit of writing-related work.  I didn't blog, edit, or check Twitter for nearly three weeks.  I spent a total of 2 hours cleaning (yesterday) and a mere 3 hours at work trying to dig myself out of the hole I'd created while I was out sick.  I gave 3 Christmas gifts and sent 0 cards.  I spent what felt like hours driving from one end of town to the other, checking on, feeding, and snuggling with my furry friends.  I took daily trips to the park in an attempt to wear out a 3-month-old puppy.  I read when I had no energy to get out of bed, went out with friends when I did, and got to enjoy an impromptu visit with family.  I baked, but only half the number of cookies I normally do.

In other words, I didn't cross many things off my list, and I don't have many accomplishments to show for my almost three weeks off.  Nothing went the way it was supposed to.  A week in, I began to long for Christmas to be over because then I could get back to the life that involved a schedule and getting things done.  This life was different, and I wasn't sure I liked it.  Some time last week, it hit me.

Christmas is supposed to be different.  

When God sent His Son to live among us, He changed everything.  Nothing is what it was before. With the first cry of that tiny infant, He turned the world upside down.  It only makes sense, then, that those who thrive on going and doing and accomplishing should be forced to slow down.  Especially during the holidays. Christmas isn't about a lot of things the world tries to tell us it is.  It's about celebrating the day the world changed.  And even though I didn't spend my Christmas vacation like I thought I would, wrangling my messy life back into order, I experienced that change in my own way.  I was reminded of what really matters.  And even though I had a hard time accepting the difference of Christmas this year, my prayer for the new year is that things would stay different... because different is what happened when Christ came to dwell among us. 

Inadequacy, meet your match!

I know this may come as a newsflash to some of you, but life can be crazy.

Obligations pile up.

Kids get sick.

Money doesn't come through.

Plans change.

And you know what?  I'm powerless to fix any of it.

The last few weeks have sought to knock me down and highlight my inadequacy, and it's taken all I've had just to keep my head above the water.  In just about every area of my life, I've been reminded that I'm not strong enough... not smart enough... and just plain ol' not good enough.

But do you know what else I've been reminded of?

I'm never going to be enough, and that's okay.

"Be strong and courageous.  Do not be discouraged because of the king of Assyria and the vast army with him, for there is a greater power with us than with him.  With him is only the army of flesh, but with us is the Lord our God to help us and fight our battles."  And the people gained confidence from what Hezekiah the king of Judah said.  2 Chronicles 32:7-8

All we see is what's right in front of us.  The fears.  The doubts.  The dashed hopes and shattered dreams.  And we see the army charging toward us, closing in with every failed attempt to make things right.  And while it's natural to want to cling to what we can see and hear and touch, it's the unseen that counts.  It's the power of the Spirit within us that heals and strengthens and overcomes.  Not us.

We are but flesh; He is Almighty.

Recognizing our humanity, knowing that we don't have to carry the burdens of life alone, is when freedom starts. So what if I don't know what I'm doing?  So what if I don't have all the answers?  So what if this is all too hard for me to do on my own?  I don't have to fight this battle.

And the good news is that I was never meant to.

God knew the things this world would throw at me, and yet He chose to make me with weaknesses and inadequacies because He knew that those things would be what would save me from myself.  If He'd given me power and knowledge and answers, I'd rush head first into every plan my brain could conjure up, and I'd end up so far off the path He wants to me walk that there'd be no way of getting back.  As it is, I'm afraid to take a step without asking Him first because I know darn good and well that I don't know where I'm going.  It's great!  It's freeing! It's what saves me when things get crazy.

So while the last few weeks have reminded me that I'm not good enough to succeed on my own, I have an undeniable peace resonating through my soul.  Every inadequacy I face is met with His power.  And in light of Him, the One who is my Everything, my nothingness becomes just that...

Nothing.

Whatever battles you're facing, whatever fights you're trying to win on your own... won't you let Him take over?  You'll never be enough to conquer it, but never forget that there's One who is.

Mandalas in Color (and a giveaway!)

Think of the last time you talked to God.

And now think of five adjectives to describe the time you spent with Him.

If you're anything like me, you likely have at least a couple of words like these: hurried, distracted, bored, disjointed....

In a world of technology-obsessed, multi-tasking overachievers, it's sometimes hard to put our screens and to-do lists to the side in order to just be.  Reflection, meditation, Bible study, prayer... heck, even sleep can leave us feeling guilty for not getting enough done in our day.  But at the end of that day, when every chore has been completed and every Facebook post has been read, we know that those quiet moments between us and God are the ones that keep us going.  Without Him, we lack the strength or motivation to fight our way through tomorrow.

Over the years, I've tried numerous things to make my prayer time more fruitful.  I've tried taking a walk and kneeling beside my bed.  I've written in a journal and had reminders pop up on my phone.  I've prayed outloud and in small, dark closets.  Each of these methods have their merits, of course, but none of them seemed to work for me.  What has worked is coloring my way through my God time.

Yep.  You heard me right.  Coloring... as in colored pencils and a coloring book.

I'm not sure if it's my creative nature or just my inner preschool teacher, but coloring is one of my favorite past times.  There are few things more relaxing than turning a black and white page into something beautiful.  Needless to say, I was all over it when my pastor encouraged our small group to color a prayer mandala as "homework" for our class one week.

I knew that coloring could be therapeutic, but what I hadn't noticed before was the way that keeping my hands in motion freed my mind from it's constant running.  When I'm focused on the color patterns and the physical act of staying inside the lines, my mind doesn't have time to wander.  Each time I put down a pencil, pick up a new color, and start on the next section of the picture, my thoughts are brought back to the task at hand.  Combining this exercise with prayer has allowed my time with God to be focused as well.  Suddenly the prayer and meditation time I struggled to hold together for 10 minutes before my mind raced down any number of rabbit trails can now go on for nearly an hour before my ADD kicks in and I have to get up and start doing something.   Unfortunately, I don't have time to color every day, but it's become my go-to activity when there's something God and I need to talk out or when I just want to take time to listen.

Because I love my prayer mandalas so much, I want to give YOU a chance to discover them, too!  If you'd like to win a copy of Mandalas in Color * (pictured above), simply comment here or retweet my post on Twitter- or both!  Entries will be accepted through midnight on Thursday, and the winner will be announced Friday morning. Good luck, and happy coloring!  :)

Can't live with it... Can't live without it!

My friend Jodie is hosting an Advent series over on her blog, and today's devotion comes from Exodus 3:1-20. She asked everyone to share about a time when God asked us to do something that maybe we weren't crazy about, and for me, that something was writing. The following is a post I wrote a year or so ago, prior to the recent smack upside the head that told me to get serious. This has obviously been an ongoing process and to be honest, it's something God and I are still working out....

I have a love/hate relationship with writing.

Up until four years ago, I wrote when I had to. Period. I didn't mind doing it for school (and in fact, I typically did very well on writing assignments), but never in a million years would I consider it a hobby. It just wasn't what I did. I was not a writer. Or so I thought.

If you know my story, you know that God had other plans. He decided to prove to me that, yes, I was a writer whether I wanted to be one or not. In the beginning, He literally had to pull the words out of me, and it wasn't uncommon to hear me pounding my fists on the desk and crying I don't wanna do this!

I got over it, though. Eventually. And now I'm pretty willing to admit that I was wrong.

Over the years, I've decided I'm fine having writing as a hobby. If I happen to find myself with nothing else to do, then by all means, you can most certainly find me in a cozy coffee shop with my Bible and notebooks strewn about, happily tapping away at the keyboard. Those are the times I love it.  But the thing is, those coffee shop moments are rare. It's not very often that I have that time. And I'm totally okay with that. I love my job and the ministries I'm involved in, and I don't mind staying busy.

But every now and then, I get restless. I start feeling like there's this huge part of me that's missing. Like life isn't going the way God wants it to. Every time that happens, I pray for direction. And every time, God reminds me of those early days, the days when I wrote purely for Him, not because it was fun. The days when I was knee-deep in blogging and pursuing publication. The days when I relied on Him for each and every sentence that came from my hands. 

It was glorious.

Time and again, I try to tell myself that it was my walk with God that fulfilled me, not the act of putting words on a page. And while I know He absolutely comes first, I simply cannot escape the idea of writing.

I've tried. Over and over I've tried. I kicked and screamed. I gave in and gave it my all. I ignored the longing. But every time, He says This is what I want you to do. And it's not enough to make it your hobby.

Hmph.

It's nice, in a way, to know what your calling involves. But when it's something you have to work really, really hard at and whose business side kills your creativity.... it's much more fun to keep it at arm's length. Writing for fun doesn't come with the pressure or responsibility or expectations that writing “for real” does.

And I'm not sure yet how I feel about going down that road again. If I'm being honest, those are the times I hate it. As much as I want to do God's will and be faithful to the gifts He's given me, part of me simply wants to keep it as a hobby, something I can enjoy on my terms.

 It's safer that way.

Still, there are times when I come across something I've written in the past, words that hit me as though I've never heard them before, and I know I can't play it safe. God had something to say back then, and somehow, He managed to say it through little ol' me.

What if He wants to do that again? 

Five things I want my teenagers to know about being a disciple of Jesus

I read an article by Stephen Ingram last week that challenged youth ministries to look at whether they were equipping their students to be disciples or simply trying to convert them to Christianity.  Good question, right? While he quoted Luke 14:25-33, I was curious about the Bible's distinction between being a believer and being a disciple, so I did a little more research.  I ended up taking a handful of Scriptures with me to Sunday school this morning and we spent some time looking at them and talking about what it actually means to be a disciple versus someone who believes in God.

If I could share five things I hope my girls remember about being a disciple of Jesus, it would be these:

1) Belief is in your head.  Discipleship is in your hands and feet.  Believing in God is great, but it's what you do with that belief that counts.  Being a disciple requires you to move, to act, to follow wherever Christ leads.  (Matthew 7:21)

2) Discipleship begins with a choice.  In some denominations, that choice is made when a person professes their faith and chooses to be baptized.  In others, the choice is made at the time of confirmation.  For people like me (who never truly had a choice about baptism as an infant or confirmation as a teenager), the choice might be made later in life.  But no matter when the choice is made, becoming a disciple means making a conscious decision at a specific point in time to follow Jesus no matter the cost. (Matthew 28:19-20)

3) Discipleship will cost you something.  It's impossible to follow Jesus and continue living your old life at the same time.  Maybe He'll ask you to re-prioritize your time or relationships, or perhaps say goodbye to habits, pride, or possessions.  Regardless of what the cost is for you, it will require you to turn from your old ways and embrace a new life.  (Matthew 4:18-22, Luke 14:26-27)

4) Discipleship produces fruit.  While it's possible to believe in God and keep your former lifestyle, people will start to notice a change when you decide to really, truly follow Him.  The fruits of the Spirit will flourish, love will guide your actions, and God will be glorified.  (Matthew 7:15-23, John 13:35)

5) Discipleship isn't easy, but it's worth it.  Leaving your comfort zone is scary.  Sacrificing your plans and sense of identity can be painful.  It's often hard and isolating and uncomfortable, but if you're willing to let go of the life you have, you'll find a life greater than any you could have imagined.  (Mark 8:34-35, John 8:31-32)

Although the requirements to be a disciple are fairly simple and straightforward (follow Christ and obey His commands), living them out and doing it well is something very few of us master. The important thing is to keep trying.  Make the choice every single day to follow Him.  Live in a state of humility and repentance.  Place loving God and loving others above all else.  If you do that, you'll find that as you grow in your relationship with Him, you'll also grow as a disciple. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.

Rachel Held Evans, live and in person!

Sometimes God answers a prayer by giving you exactly what you asked for, and sometimes He answers it by giving you so much more.

I was first introduced to Rachel Held Evans about a year and a half ago when the women from my small group decided to read her book A Year of Biblical Womanhood * over the course of a summer.  I was immediately drawn to her writing because she had me reaching for my dictionary in one sentence and laughing so hard I cried in the next.  The book made such a strong impact on me that I then spent 13 months studying it with my high school girls' Sunday school class.  Between our book club, prepping for Sunday mornings, and writing/editing the study guide I created, the book hasn't left my night stand since the day I brought it home.

If you know my story, you know that God recently lit a fire under me and told me it was time to start getting serious about my writing.  Although I have a handful of curriculum resources in the works, it was the Biblical Womanhood study guide that He first urged me to finish. And when I hit a dead end because I didn't know where I could go with it, He made it possible for me to ask Rachel herself. Face-to-face.

Only God, y'all.... Only God could have orchestrated this weekend.

After learning that Rachel would be speaking at a church in Birmingham, I jumped at the chance to take my girls on a road trip.  Literally jumped. Up, down, and squealing inside because it felt like everything was about to come full circle. We made plans and loaded up the cars, excited for a chance to meet the author we'd spoken of on a first name basis for nearly two years.  Oh my goodness, Rachel just wrote about that on her blog!  Did you see what Rachel posted on Facebook yesterday? You know how Rachel would feel about that...

I think that deep down, we were all hoping for a chance to say hi and maybe get a group picture. Really, I just wanted the girls to meet her, and if the opportunity arose, to ask about the study guide. That's the part in my prayer when God started laughing. It might just be me, but He seems to be doing that a lot lately!  I have no idea how the entire room wasn't swarming around her, but after a few minutes of mingling with everyone else, she made her way over to us and just... settled in.  Each person in our group got to connect with her individually, and our conversations totaled nearly an hour. We laughed, we exchanged email and blog addresses, and as all good Southern friends do, we talked college football.

I admired Rachel Held Evans the writer before Sunday, but now I can honestly say I admire Rachel the person.  She spent so much time talking with the girls, affirming their passions and taking a genuine interest in their stories that I was truly blown away.  Watching her with them meant far more to me than getting to meet one of my favorite authors.  It meant far more than walking away with photos and signed copies of her book.  It meant far more than her encouragement regarding my own writing projects (although I'm super excited about those opportunities, too!). 

As I said, this was a weekend only God could have pulled together. Thank you, Rachel, for using your gifts to make an impact in the world- through both your written words and the ones ones you chose to speak even when you didn't have to. Your "groupies from Columbus" had so much fun visiting with you!

Book Review: Jodie Bailey's Quilted by Christmas

Failing to recognize our own worth impacts us far more than we realize.  For Taryn McKenna, it meant keeping people at a distance, harboring a secret for more than a decade, and failing to trust in God's love.

In her October release for Abingdon's Quilts of Love series, Jodie Bailey weaves a tale of forgiveness, redemption, and relentless love.  When an 18-year-old Taryn finds herself on the receiving end of accusations that she's needy and manipulative, she vows to keep to herself and no longer bother those she loves.  She slowly builds a wall around her heart, and aside from her grandmother Jemma and cousin Rachel, refuses to let people in.  It's safer that way.  Her secret is safe, she's safe, and most importantly, other people are safe-- from her.

But when her high school love, Justin, comes back to town and Jemma lands in the hospital, Taryn has a hard time keeping up her strong front.  Suddenly she finds herself in need of security, and the only person around to offer it is the last one she wants to find it in.  By surrendering herself to Justin's renewed desire for friendship, Taryn learns that she really is worth loving after all.  And by opening herself to the love of those around her, she also learns to accept the One who loved her first and loves her best.

Jodie Bailey consistently creates characters who are multi-faceted and believable, and Taryn, Justin, and Jemma are no exception.  Even if we don't carry a secret as big as Taryn's, all of us feel as if we don't measure up in some way.  God's unconditional love is big enough to reach all of us, no matter what our past may hold.  Justin is the friend (and boyfriend!) we'd all like to have.  He's always there, but never pushy; always lightening the mood, but loving with sincerity.  And Jemma?  Oh, Jemma... Modeled after Jodie's own grandmothers, Jemma is bold and feisty, always telling it how it is.  These characters will warm your heart, and their story will keep you reading late into the night. Quilted by Christmas* is a delightful book that will get you in the holiday spirit quicker than Jemma can whip up her famous caramel cake!