The empty world of chasing extraordinary: what I wish I had known at 17.

For about 36 years now, I've been having an identity crisis. That seems crazy to me, but it's true.

I mean I've known, deep down, that I've wrestled with my identity, but I really hadn't concluded that to be my main stumbling block. Or, it would be better to say that I've been running and hiding from facing that very fact.

I've had a few meetings with some ladies about a future project, and those meetings have caused me to really evaluate some serious, deep down issues.

The others thought the meet ups were God ordained in order for a possible venture to take place...but I just showed up because I like the gals and I like to talk about life and God and struggles.

I've come to believe those meetings were ordained because God used them to unlock a piece of my heart.

I've been chasing something for a long time. a very long time.

I never knew quite what it was. Never.

I'd have glimpses, but I didn't want to face what those glimpses were, and honestly, I still didn't know what to do with what I would see in those glimpses.

But after our meetings and me having to seriously articulate where I am and where my heart seems to be right now, it got me digging further than I ever had.

See, for years I've been able to articulate and recognize that I kept thinking I was extraordinary, or better said, I wanted to be extraordinary. I can remember this clearly starting in middle school.

I had this feeling that I could do whatever I set my mind to, that if I worked hard enough, I could figure something out. I thought I would go off, and show the world that I was more than it told me I was.

I would be extraordinary...even though the world told me I was ordinary and my life kept landing in the very ordinary realm, I would show the world I was more than what was being said about me, or really, what I thought about me.

It seems odd that I would have such deep rooted insecurities, because I grew up in a VERY loving home. That's probably one of the reasons (besides my arrogance and insecurity) why I thought I could be extraordinary and had such an independent spirit was because my parents told me that. They loved on me, believed in me, encouraged me, and spurred me on in immeasurable ways.

But, somehow, someway, insecurity haunted me, pursued me. The voices of the world plagued me. The voices inside my head controlled me.

I struggled with my weight, and in the world around me, weight seemed to trump all else, and I let that become a toxic lie inside my own head. I took that on, and I let it rule.

I was this confident, independent, determined soul in non-relational ways, but with people, I was paralyzed by insecurities.

I was rarely, if ever vulnerable with my closest of friends. I didn't know how to be.

I guarded my heart.

I didn't want to feel rejection or stupid or the ever so awful, "you think you could date him?"

So, I kept it in.

And the first person who made me feel beautiful, I latched onto, and even though my insides were sending up red flags, I ignored them.

My insecurities were too powerful.

They superseded common sense, truth, stability, all the love and worth my parents had poured into me, as well as accepting or understanding grace.

How can one be that insecure?

I do not know.

But I was. And I have continued to be.

My insecurities landed me in a land of mess that caused even bigger messes.

And, I truly believe, that for the last 15 years, I have been on a long journey trying to solve this huge hole in my heart.

I've been having an identity crisis.

For 10 of those years, I was in a relationship that both stripped me to the core as well as piled baggage on top of baggage.

For those 10 years, I both lost my identity and became as insecure as one can be, as well as begin the process of truly finding myself and having the roots of my soul start to grow in the firmest foundation of all.

And, 5 years ago, God unlocked a prison I had chosen and set me free from a wilderness that I had wandered into, wandered through, but met Jesus in.

He walked me out, but just because you leave, doesn't mean that wilderness leaves you.

Rejection I had so feared was now added, bitterness and pain, heartache that I had become numb to, confusion, and the loss of the one person who'd hugged me from the time I was born buried me beneath a rubble I had to start sifting through.

God had released me, but my new road didn't give me an identity either...in fact it added new layers to what was in my head.

divorced
single mother
not young but not old
not a size 4 or 6
lonely without a mom, a close sibling, a spouse
constantly searching
rarely content
unsettled

lost.

And as all of this played in my head, my search continued, my insecurities pressed in.

This summer, God began unlocking a new gate...well, He's been unlocking it, but it's taken me a long time to see passed the rubble to notice it was open and just waiting for me to walk through it.

A few dreams died this summer, but some new ones sprang up, and in that mix, a few things began to click.

I kept asking myself why I thought I wanted to be extraordinary, why I seem to have to chase extraordinary when life really seems to be about the ordinary.

Life is a day to day, walking out.

My half marathons had taught me that.

The medal moment comes at the end, and it lasts a few minutes, but the race is 3 hours, and that's where the medal is actually earned.

The settling in at mile 4, knowing there's a long ways to go.
The push at mile 8 to get to double digits.
And then at mile 11 to keep fighting for 2 more miles.
To not quit, to keep going in the mundane, the heat, with the same voices in your head, and the legs that are getting tired.

That's when the medal is earned. In those 3 hours...the ones where it is just you and God and the pavement.

The finish line at mile 13 is just a pause. It's the pat on the back, the cheap medal around your neck, and the here's your banana and bagel.

Extraordinary moments, the ones I keep defining as extraordinary, are the pauses, they are the pats on the back, the glimpse of a temporary finish line.

They really aren't what's extraordinary. Extraordinary is created in the time spent in the ordinary.

I kept envisioning this dramatic story of here's your medal and crown and I deem you worthy, and from here on out all of mankind will think you so...and now you can begin life.

I thought life began at the extraordinary moment, at mile 13, so I've spent my life and my imagination on trying to create that moment.

But that's a farce, a manipulation, a right not given.

The medal isn't earned by the one showing up at mile 13, it's earned by the one who started at mile one, and not even really then. It's earned by the one who chose to get up on an ordinary day and hit the pavement, alone, just them, their thoughts, and God.

Big mountain top moments are just temporary finish lines, because the race to get to the mountain top is in the constant, the day to day, the ordinary moments when there isn't a crowd, there aren't people telling you whether or not they feel you are worthy: the extraordinary happens when it's you, the pavement, and God.

The medal isn't earned at a conference or on a wedding day or in the writing of a book.

The medal is earned in the journey, the extraordinary, the REAL extraordinary is found in what this world would call ordinary. It's in the daily walking out, the daily loving and showing up...on mile one and every one after that.

Mary wasn't speaking and writing and marrying and creating this unbelievable story to make her life extraordinary...

She was living, humbly, ordinarily, and The Extraordinary met her there. She loved the Lord, and that was her story. That was enough for her and that was enough for Him.

Ruth's life and what she knew and loved and came from fell, died, and she was left alone.

But she knew God, she knew Truth was worth following.

So she did, and The Extraordinary collided with the one willing to walk a hard road, an ordinary road, and The Extraordinary spoke in that and through that.

I've chased what I thought was extraordinary for a long time, hoping that it would give me an identity, hoping that the story I chased would give me a story.

But all it has done is remind me that I'm ordinary, that I'm excruciatingly insecure, and that I'm pursuing something hoping it would give me an identity instead of me just having one.

I was chasing a farce.

I was left with the indelible "round hole and square peg" metaphor once again.

I was trying to be the "Proverbs 31" woman when in reality, I'm Psalm 31.

I'm not the ideal or the extraordinary. I'm the ordinary: I'm broken, troubled, afflicted, and lost...

I'm in need of Jesus.

For 36 years, I think I've invited Jesus in to fix me, to orchestrate events, in order for me to be extraordinary.

For the first time, I believe I'm coming to a place that I finally say, I'm ordinary, and I just want The Extraordinary to live in me...not to make me anymore than I am, but just to be in me, with me, save me, and change me...not into something extraordinary, but into the me that has a heart full of Jesus.

I'm tired of me trying to be extraordinary, because I suck at it, and all it has ever done is land me in a world of emptiness, in a world I didn't belong in, in a world devoid of me.

This summer proved to me that I have a heart for loving children and I come alive doing that. Giving my time to helping them have an experience with God brings me life, and that praying for my friends and being a mom that's present is pretty darn gratifying.

And that road, one I had said was too ordinary and boring, is actually a pretty great one for me.

I can take off my wonderwoman costume because the only person I was fooling was myself.

I was the one in need of saving.

How great is Your goodness, which You have stored up for those who fear You, which You have wrought for those who take refuge in You...You hide them in the secret place of Your presence...Psalm 31

Nearly 5 years ago, in a dark room, weeping, I prayed begging God to right the pendulum, to clear the toxins, to transform my heart, for me to become who He had planned for me to be before I hijacked my own story.

In August 2013, on the phone, weeping to a friend, longing for the voice and love of my mom,
my soul cried out once again,
my heart breathed in,
and this time, enough rubble had cleared to where I could hear the voice I'd been longing to hear:
you, Shelly, are a child of the Light, destined for salvation, walking together with Him,
and Faithful is He who calls you.

The truly extraordinary is when He whispers into your soul, and you finally listen.

And somehow, walking through that gate, took me into a garden my eyes had never seen before.

In Him,

Shelly
Being ordinary, walking with The Extraordinary

Nevertheless - One of the greatest words in all of Scripture

I've been trying a new Starbucks that just opened. When I'm headed into the big city for "supplies" it's a good one to stop at: convenient, clean, new.

But, I will say, the baristas still need a few more weeks to get in the groove. Their ability to fill a cup to the brim is leaving much to be desired. I wouldn't care, except for the fact that when one drops $4.49 for a drink, I want my stinkin' cup full. A girl next to me just got a venti iced tea and there is a good 1.5-2 inches left at the top. What?!?!

Yes, that deserves exclamation marks and mayhem upon my blog. Most of my retirement is going towards drinking coffee at Starbucks, so I want to make sure I'm getting my money's worth as I head toward being homeless at age 65.

I finally finished 6 weeks of "teaching commitments" this summer. Between teaching and Boston, I've spent 6 weeks working. I've loved every second of the actual classes and kiddos, but I of course swung the pendulum a bit too far as to how I'm spending all my time this summer.

Between conferences, teaching, and getting ready to go back to school work, I'm basically getting 2.5 weeks of summer off.

Those of you who know me, would not be surprised by this...this lack of balance and a happy medium. Last year I didn't do a thing and spiraled into unhealthy-crazy-idle-boredom world, so I vowed to DO stuff this summer, so I swung the pendulum clear to the other side and will have hardly stopped to have the chance to get bored.

Even though I am a bit tired, rebellious, and drained, I am in a much better place personally at the end of this summer than I was last summer.

Routine, commitments, accountability, and work is what this girl needs. A few 3-4 days break here and there is definitely needed, but large chunks of time with nothing to really get me up and going proves to be time that I don't get up and don't get going.

So, I'm thankful. I'm thankful that I wished to work this summer, to stay busy and productive, and mentally healthy, and God provided the opportunity and the means for all of that to happen.

I haven't gotten to spend as much time with friends and long lost friends I usually catch up with during the summer, which I'm sad about, but the few coffees and dates I've had, have been such a blessing and included some really deep conversations, probing questions, and moments I've seen God moving in my life and prodding me to move in certain directions.

If I had to sum up the years 2012 - 2013, I would say it's been a time of rebellion, disappointment, and realizing I love God mainly for the reason He is the master of the universe and can make things happen in my life.

That's a tough season and realization to wade through.

I spent three years that I felt was ordained by God to be a season of healing and transformation, to be a time that set me up to start anew with the chance to begin my story again. I wanted the chance at my dream of being in love and being married, having the house where I have people over for Sunday Night Church (Jen Hatmaker style), where my son plays basketball outside with all his friends, and I might even have another child or two.

I felt His prodding to keep me on the path of healing for those 3 years, to not look left, to not look right, but keep pressing on, and at the end, I had come to believe my dream would await.

For those 3 years, I would periodically ask myself "what are you going to do when "that" doesn't happen at the end? What are you going to say about God? Are you still going to believe these 3 years were from Him, for Him, for you?"

And as much as I said I would be ok with whatever happened, that I would keep believing God, that He isn't my genie, and what He has for my life is what He has for my life...deep down, my picture of my dream remained, how my story was going to play out was like a filmstrip inside my head.

Year 3 came and went. While those 3 years were amazing, and I don't question a thing about how much God worked in my life and how His faithfulness and goodness saturated me, my son, and all that I was walking through, year 4 didn't have my story playing out in it.

And for the next 1.5 years, I've lived in that place...of what happens when what you thought would happen, didn't and doesn't.

It's made me question how much I make up inside my head...which I know is LOTS, but sometimes there are moments when one talks to God, you feel He is right next to you...holding your hand, bringing things to mind, and even talking back.

I asked myself what I would do if what I thought would happen after I "put in my time" for the 3 years didn't happen, and the reality was/is I got hurt, I questioned, I lived in disappointment, felt rejected and left, I've wondered, I rebelled, and I became cynical and bitter all over again.

I spent weeks not walking through the church door or opening His word, I prayed little except on certain quiet times I needed to rant and beg, I shared my anger with Him, and I grieved.

I grieved because during all of that time being mad at God, I knew what was happening. I knew where I stood. I knew I only "loved" God because He had the power to fulfill the filmstrip occurring in my head.

And realizing that, hurts.

These last 4 months I've spent slowly coming out of that fog...slowly...like sticky mud and oil you can't shake or wash off.

The moment I would make strides, I'd find myself still stuck.

I'd open my Bible reluctantly, I made sure I was in the pew being spoon fed once more, and I opened up to listening to and following that still, quiet voice inside my head.

Just come. Just sit. Just read. Just spend time with Me.

I resisted for so long because I hated to face the fact that more often than not (than ever) I do things to only get something in return.

Facing this was secretly killing me. It hurt my heart, my pride, my soul that after all these years, all this time with God and His goodness, I was still in this place.

As much as He had changed me, transformed my heart and life, as much as His faithfulness and goodness have saturated every moment of my time even when I hardly acknowledged Him, THIS was still where I stood with my love for Him: “I will follow and love You Lord only if you do this for me.”

And if I could only love God in this way or with these conditions, the One who saved me, who unconditionally loves me, who has gone to hell and back for me, who has walked and carried me out of my own hell, then how much more would I fail to love others here on earth.

How incapable of genuine love was I.

And that's where I've been.

Over these last couple of weeks, I've been spending time in John 21. In verse 23 it says, "therefore this saying went out among the brethren that the disciple would not die; yet Jesus did not say to him that he would not die, but only, 'If I want him to remain until I come, what is that to you?"

Jesus spoke and the people projected, expanded, added to the story, assumed, and tried to figure out how it would play out.

I believe God and I had a conversation 4.5 years ago. I believe we've had lots through the years. I also believe the ones that are true are the ones that He's continued to prod, encourage, and compel me to keep walking in and through.

But I'm just like the "brethren" in that I can project, assume, add to, and try to resolve how the story will play out.

And that's where the rub is for me and for God. I'm a resolver. My anxious tendencies, my insecurities, my sensitivities leave me in a spot that despises the in between, the journey, the hallways.

I want resolutions. I want ends. I want “and this is how the story goes.”

But that's not how God works.

That's not how faith works.

That's not how trust works.

Faith and trust and God are in the middles, in the journeys, in the walking out, in the "It's not all laid out for you to see".

He's told us the very end of the story, but the in between is a journey of walking with Him, behind Him, trusting that He has great plans for us...His plan is not the filmstrip playing in my head that I control and direct the characters in.

It's not one I manipulate or resolve.

It's one that I show up for; I come, I spend time with Him, and He guides, He prods, He orchestrates, directs and controls for His glory and purposes.

There is lots out there these days about stories and our lives being them and us writing them, and so much of that I have been encouraged and challenged by.

But, at the end of the day, I firmly believe that I can't control or write my story. I tried it once, and that life was one manipulated, disingenuous, inauthentic, shallow and unhealthy...both in what I did, and what I chose.

I believe all I can be is a good character; one willing to go, to walk, to trust.

Abraham had no idea what was before him, but he was the right character for God to use. So was Joseph, Ruth, Esther, Moses, and Mary.

All the stories we read about are not God recreating the filmstrips inside these people’s heads. The Bible is full of stories of how God used and moved people through the unimaginable story He had planned.

God didn’t go with their plans and dreams...He took them even further. He took them to His.

He took their trusting and courageous hearts and willingness to lay themselves at His feet and brought them to places that couldn't have been conceived. He wrote stories so magical and miraculous that they continue to change lives today...to lead people to the cross, to His goodness and sacrifice and love.

Today, 1.5 years into sifting through the garbage of control and manipulation and having the need to have my life resolved, I find myself praying, begging, pleading God to help me set my script down and be willing to follow His.

I don't want to have to write my story, I don't want to manipulate and control and live inauthentically.

I want to love so deeply I can't fathom the well it comes from.

I want to laugh so hard it hurts and shakes crevices inside my soul I didn't know I had.

I want to live life in a way that only God could orchestrate.

And that kind of life takes courage, takes trust, takes living in the unknown, in a journey of faith in God.

It can’t be manufactured or planned. It takes a character willing to show up ready to be directed and guided to places that aren't even known to us.

As I finished reading Psalm 31 today, the last 3 verses are the balm and redemption to my broken and unfaithful heart...

"As for me, I said in my alarm, 'I am cut off from before Your eyes'; NEVERTHELESS You heard the voice of my supplication when I cried to You..."

Nevertheless...one of the greatest words God uses in all of scripture.

It's water to a desperately dry and thirsty soul, to a hurting heart, to the one who is disappointed and ashamed of her reaction to God, for her lack of love for Him.

And Psalm 31 continues with "Be strong and let your heart take courage all you who hope in the Lord."

Be strong and take courage.

Be strong and take courage.

Be strong and take courage...because God works through the "Nevertheless-es".

He is a God who planned for Nevertheless...and that is where the stubborn and hard heart crumbles into a million weeping and grateful pieces.

In Him,

Shelly

The night I realized my dad couldn't save me - God whispered back.

Honestly, I'm not sure where this post will go. I do know this. I had to come to Starbucks tonight to write. I couldn't not come. The pressure inside me was too much, so we'll see where God takes me with this.

I'm craving Needtobreathe and moments reminiscent of 3 years ago...a quiet date night with the Lord.

Can we turn back time? Tonight, I'd really like to.

But, we can't.

I had coffee with a friend earlier in the week. We had a wonderful 3 hour visit, sharing bits and pieces of our lives, our pasts, our stories.

Inevitably, she asked me about my marriage.

So many people present in my life today didn't know me 5 years ago. They never knew me married. They never knew my previous life.

That's what it feels like...a life long ago...a different person...a distant memory that takes effort to conjure up.

And, frankly, with each person who asks, out comes a different answer from me. I don't mean I change the story, but for some reason, I don't ever tell it the same, from the same point, or even with the same attitude.

I'm not sure why this is, well, I probably do...relationships are complicated. There just isn't an easy answer. ever.

And if you have 15 minutes to sum it all up, it's kind of hard to know what to include, where to begin, and what to share.

You add into that perplexity on my own part, desiring to be transparent and genuine but respectful and not jaded, then, well, I need more than 15 minutes to explain.

Thankfully, we both had time, and we both shared hard stuff we've lived through and carry the scars and baggage, the beauty and wisdom from walking down tough roads.

But, there was a piece to the puzzle that became quite clear as I talked with her. I had shared with her how I was hell bent on getting married. I had my plan, my vision for my life and acknowledging red flags and having patience weren't part of it.

To this day, I firmly believe, God could have stood before me, in the flesh, and said, "You know Shelly, I have a different plan for you. You need to trust me...frankly, you and Me need to get to know each other, but either way, this isn't the road for you."

And this proud and fearful 20 year old, would have stared blankly back at God and said, "I got this covered but thanks."

I jumped off that bridge. On my own. With all that I knew. With all that I was taught. With the prayers of my mom from before my birth covering me. I jumped. Leaped...and left my gut behind.

Unfortunately, my choice, how I decided to conduct my life, took me down a path that was filled with hurt, pain and confusion, anxiety and fear...all that I was trying to set my life up to avoid.

All that my plan was supposed to not include...it incubated it.

I was the Titanic and the iceberg was dead ahead.

My friend and I talked about our kids and how we want them to avoid so many mistakes we made and the prayers we have for them.

I told her that as much as we want to smooth the paths, to help them avoid the pitfalls and craters, unfortunately, we can't. Our prayers, though powerful, are not guarantees.

My mom was one of the most prayerful women I ever knew. I know that she prayed for my spouse from the moment I was in her womb.

I wrestled with God with that for years.

What was the point God? She prayed, yet I chose.

And let me add...I didn't pray...just chose. (key point)

Even though my mom prayed for every area of my life, I am certain her number one prayer for me was that I would know the Lord, that I would choose Him, that I would love Him and have Him be Lord of my life. And as she prayed that prayer, I don't think she would have wanted God to share with her what all that would mean,

"Well, she will, Carol, but you will have to die, she will have to go through a hard marriage and then divorce. Your grandson will be a child of divorce and she's going to wrestle for years with Me, but mostly with herself. She'll experience My grace and forgiveness and it will change her, but it will take her years to forgive herself...
In fact, Carol, she will almost refuse to forgive herself. She will feel like she failed, which we both know that's the last thing she wants to ever do. She will experience incredible regret, which nearly kills your girl. She will have new levels of fear when it comes to relationships that she can't comprehend or manage...and Carol, this is going to take time and patience on her part...two things that she fights against. Your daughter's pride and fear will take time to break down.
But, slowly, she will come around, and she and I will meet, and her journey of trusting Me will begin."

The night I first really met God, just me and Him, occurred in March, 2004.

For several years, I had been experiencing high levels of anxiety. I didn't know what it was, but my marriage was upside down, I was incredibly unhealthy and seemingly living in the twilight zone. I had had Cade almost a year prior and my mom had been diagnosed with cancer a few months back.

My mind and body had enough. I couldn't keep it in anymore.

So, I didn't.

One night, while at a Bible study, I became violently ill, and the friend with me as I lay on the cold concrete floor feeling half dead, heard the spill of all I had been holding in for years. She got the fire hose of the secrets of Shelly's life.

It wasn't pretty.

I was down for the count in every way imaginable.

My friend and my mom got me home.

My husband was there and by now, my dad had arrived as well.

They knew something was desperately wrong, and that I needed some help...for some reason...because they didn't know a thing about my secrets...because I didn't share my secrets.

As I lay in my bed and my mom brought me Sprite, and my dad sat next to me, I begged him to pray over me.

"Just pray dad. Please, pray."

I knew that I was desperate for prayer.

And all I wanted was for my dad to pray over me.

And as he prayed, I remember becoming more desperate.

I remember thinking, my dad's prayers aren't helping.

My dad isn't saving me.

I am in a hole so incredibly deep, and the man who has always been able to rescue me, isn't.

And even scarier, he can't.

That moment. That was the moment I met God.

I grew up in a family that sang Jesus Loves Me from conception. We went to church 3 times a week and LIVED it. Our friends loved the Lord. I was involved in every class and knew my Bible. I was baptized, went to church camp, had parents that lived their faith, walked out their faith, had faced storms together, and I had watched God work in and through them.

But, not until I was 26, did I turn from my Dad saving me, to God.

It was that dark night, a night that felt like my desperation was eating my bones, that I knew this was now between me and God.

My dad can write a check, give me wise advice, shore up my Starbucks card, hug me tight, and even pray for me day in and day out, but he can't save me.

My parents' faith can. not. save. me.

I needed God. I needed Jesus.

It wasn't until I was in my own personal hell that I turned to Him and begged, pleaded for Him to save me.

So often, we have to experience our own moment of hell to realize we need a Savior; that no matter what we do or what others do, it won't save us. It can't save us.

I'm 10 years removed from that night.

Since then, my mom died. my marriage ended.

Yet I sit, still wrestling, still saying to God, "I got this covered" even if He is saying back, but My plan is better. BETTER SHELLY.

But a difference today is that I know the road before me, is between me and God. That my dad, nor a paycheck, nor a friend or my own plans will save me.

God has me in a place, that keeps me very aware of my dependence on Him.

Financially, physically, spiritually is a daily walk with Him.

I don't have many back ups, no one else to blame, no scape goats or many safety nets.

I have to rely on Him. I have to rely on the gifts He's given me. I have to recognize that I need saving, day in and day out, and that chasing Him is the best place to be.

When I returned from Boston and coming off the incredible high I had from the adventure, I told myself that chasing that high again, would mean chasing God, because that high was a God moment.

It wasn't a career high, a money high, a dating high, or any other earthly high...it was a chasing God high.

Those moments are found in Him, with Him, through Him.

When I look at my life and see the things that bring me genuine joy and fill my heart with passion and wonder, those things have been brought in by God.

They weren't in my plans. I couldn't have even planned them or thought of them.

They were better than I could have planned, than I could have dreamed.

They were or are all gifts...a weaving of life provided by God's grace.

But, certain areas of my life, I can't seem to surrender to Him. Despite my pleas and prayers, my obsession with my plan seems to override it all.

As my heart clings to, "But I want something different Lord." He keeps saying, "then be something different and leave the rest to Me."

As I drove to Starbucks tonight, I concluded that I'd really like to earnestly try. To beg Him each day to help me let go. To let go.

To. simply. let. go.

In my 36 years, one of the many things about God that has struck me as quite remarkable is His patience...His willingness to wait.

We are to wait on Him, which I never want to do, but when I think about how long and how much He has to wait on me, it seems unforgivable.

But that's where the remarkable occurs. He's kind. He's patient. He's faithful.

Through the wrestling and questioning. The ignoring and the whining. Through the pleading and begging. Through the irreverence and impatience.

He stands. He waits. He loves.

His plan continues to weave.

His willingness to enter a bedroom of a young woman, lost, lonely, scared beyond comprehension because her dad can't save her, He whispers, "but I'm Your father who can", and that my friends, takes my breath away.

From the land of broken plans but grabbing hold of being different and traveling the path set before me,
Shelly

The gift of God's grace: Turning the daunting into a mission and living out a dream buried so deep, He had to uncover it.

First, let me begin by saying my favorite Starbucks has been taken over. I mean completely taken over. I walked in to have me some quiet time, at MY table and the entire place was filled. FILLED. Right then and there, I almost made an announcement letting them all know they had approximately 5 minutes to finish what they were working on...except you sir, yes, you with the mohawk, you can stay, because if I have any technical difficulties, I think you could solve them, but everyone else, 5 minutes.

But, I didn't. I pouted, shed a tear, waved to my baristas, and walked back out...drove .77 miles to the next Starbucks.

But that .77 miles makes a difference people. It just. isn't. the. same.

If my writing is shottier than usual, you now know why. Location, Location, Location.

No, I'm going to put my big girl panties on, say, "God, please forgive them, for they do not know what they do." and continue on. ;)

Let's hit this thing...

This summer has been one of humbling experiences. It all seemed to kick off one day at the apple store. See, my phone was jacked up, and I of course had no idea what or how or why...the thing controls me way more than I control it. So finally, when summer came and I had a little extra time, I made my appointment to speak to some 19 year old kid who could help me figure out why my phone was 80% covered in yellow "other" and had no room for Shelly stuff.

The store was filled with the usual skinny jean wearing people walking around with ipads at break-neck speeds and speaking a language I do not understand. Even checking in for my appointment, I have to have them repeat the instructions. It's like the moment I walk through those glass doors (which are heavier than elephants and don't push or pull or at least they certainly change direction when you go to leave because they NEVER work right, and I KNOW it isn't me)

The skinny jean 19 year old holding the seemingly magical "green ipad" will give me my instructions and I ALWAYS say, what?

"Ma'am, go. to. the. bar. that. says. genius. and. wait. for. your. name. to. be. called."

Got it...and I could really use a little somethin somethin to calm my nerves because all you people make me really nervous, so do those geniuses serve Bellini's at that bar?

"Ma'am, just wait over there and let your kid play computer games...the 10 year old knows what to do."

Thanks, and stop calling me ma'am.

My appointment kid finally calls my name, comes over, looks through my phone, is ASTONISHED by the lack of emails I have...even though I told him I had very little...but apparently he'd never actually seen a phone with less than 200 emails. He tried to cover up his, "Oh wow, you really don't get any...well, that just means you stay on top of things and..."

Ya, dude, just fix my phone.

He asked me a series of questions, which I had no idea what he was needing to know, so I just shook my head and said sure, great, just make the yellow go away.

He proceeded to erase my phone, and I left with no yellow, and no anything else.

I went home and plugged it in to my computer, which he told me to do, but then it gave me a "do you want this...or do you want that?"

Right then and there, I knew I was screwed.

Skinny jean 19 year old did not prepare me for choices. He sent me into battle completely unprepared. He made it sound like it was going to be all easy and just hitting a button that says, "Click here Shelly to make your phone normal again."

That was NOT one of the choices. I blame him.

I chose.

I chose wrong.

Everything returned...along with the yellow.

I made another appointment.

Went back to land of no brain activity for Shelly, and waited again.

This time, I played computer games with Cade, and then when it was really just me playing the games, I told him he needed to finish it for me, but he must follow my exact instructions.

Why Mom?

Because this is beyond socially unacceptable for me to be standing in the middle of the Apple store with seemingly 587 other people who apparently have more money than God to come in and buy all things white, skinny, fast, and larger than our T.V.'s and to be openly playing Zoiks. Even if I am completely kicking butt at it.

What?

Cade, seriously, just finish my game, but you must do as I say, because I'm kicking butt and I'm not going to lose because you get some hair brain idea that a cannon should go on the wrong corner.

Fine Mom.

My name gets called.

This time, I have a girl genius. She proceeds to check out my phone, I tell her my small minded version of what is happening, "I can't take pictures or have any music on my phone." the end.

She toggles and plugs and says all sorts of jumbled words to me.

She comes to a conclusion after minutes of it being attached to what seems to be the resuscitating cart for iPhones, and she begins "explaining" the issue. After multiple sentences, she pauses and says, "Do you understand?"

Um, no.

"Oh? Well, it's..."

Really, no need to reexplain, I have no idea what you said, and repeating it, slower, and in English (because it was apparent English was not being used) would not help.

"Oh."

pause

"Well, it's like there's a cancer on your phone and I just need to get rid of it."

Cancer, now, that's a word I know.

Kill it. I feel confident in you, your skinny jeans, and you even wear a pair of super cute glasses, so whatever you need to do is great. I'll be over here playing Zoiks.

When my phone was cleared and iclouded up and all...I whipped out my computer and insisted she walk me through the final steps, in store, while the multiple choice questions are still in need of answering.

She gladly helped, and Cade and I left...and I looked at him and said, "If you didn't know what the word ignorant means, now you do, because you just watched it play out before your very eyes in the life of your mother."

And I know what skinny jeans are Mom...and that it is socially unacceptable for a 36 year old woman to play Zoiks in public.

10-4 kid.

(and who says learning doesn't take place in the summer...)

Last summer, I did nothing. I had one trip planned for Seattle and I did the Half there, but other than that I had no work to do at my house, or small part time jobs, or much traveling. I about went insane. Cade leaves for 4 weeks of the summer, so having nothing to do leads to insanity and the pit of complete despair for me. I might as well have a beard to my belly, 5 inch long finger nails, and smell like a rat because that's basically what happens to me emotionally, spiritually, and mentally with long times of no purpose, direction, or structure.

At the end of Summer 2012, I vowed that I would never do that again.

So, this spring I went about getting jobs lined up, and now I only have approximately 3 weeks of down time the entire summer.

I seem to like extremes. All or nothing baby.

But, in all of this, something magical was occurring and it wasn't until a few weeks ago that I really saw it happening.

So, before my "Summer of Veg (pronounced vej) 2012" came, I had a parent of a student of mine approach me in the spring of 2012 about possibly taking some kids on an educational trip to another city. There's a bit of a back story to it all, but suffice it to say, she knew I loved to travel and did it regularly, and that I encouraged students to go on any educational trip they could.

I loved the idea, but frankly I was a bit daunted by it...so I sat on it for about 7 months. Yep, 7 months. That's like 1700 years in your world, because I tend to make decisions in t minus 10 seconds, so taking 7 months to decide anything, much less a trip, where I have some autonomy as to where, the itinerary, taking kids, and creating an adventure for all of us, was frankly strange. super strange.

Then, one morning this past December, I started pondering, and a once daunting idea, started becoming a dream, a possibility, a goal, a mission.

By January, I had decided on Boston, over the 4th, and I had my plan.

I went back to the parent, we got all excited...but I told her that if I were to do it, I wanted to DO IT. I mean, I wanted to do it right, do it well, follow my heart, follow my gut, and follow the path that God seemed to be laying out for this trip.

By the grace of God, she was all about it, and gave me an incredible gift...her trust.

I wanted to take 8 middle school students, I wanted to take a mixture of boys and girls and ages. I wanted to invite them on an adventure, not just a trip. I wanted this to be a moment...a marking in their life where they didn't just see history, but saw others, saw themselves, saw God.

God had placed my guinea pig group on my heart, and in a matter of a week, the families had agreed, to me, taking their kid to Boston, during the week of July 4th, riding on subways, with the crowds, and in hotel rooms without adults...and were willing to write the checks to do it.

Over the course of the spring I had the kids over for dinner several times...because even though they all "knew" each other, we didn't really know each other...and the best place to do that is over a meal. By meeting 4, we were scavenger hunting the streets of downtown San Antonio and they were becoming friends, over a shared bond of an adventure, of a course God had set out for all of us.

Over the Easter weekend, I made a quick trip to Boston to do a run through of my itinerary: Concord, Plymouth, and Boston. He led me the whole way, took me to the right places, perfect hotels, and restaurants. I didn't have the money to really do this pre-trip, but I had a peace about it, I knew God wanted me there, that I was supposed to walk it out, to trust Him, and to go and prepare myself...so I did.

Then, the news came about the Boston marathon...we all flinched a little, but the group seemed to look at each other and say, we're staying the course. We're trusting God in this.

God gave me the idea to purchase tons of postcards while visiting each spot in April, and to send them every 2 weeks to the kiddos to build the excitement and help them get even more prepared for the adventure. That was fun for me. Fun for them. And helped me prepare and pray for them, for us, for God to meet us there.

Then, 3 weeks ago, as I was reflecting on the "Summer of Veg 2012", and my vow to not do that again, and how I had sought out some summer school work and other part time jobs for this year...the Boston trip came into mind.

And, I saw the magical.

I was approached about Boston in the spring of 2012. God had set His plan in motion before my choice of gluttonous laziness even took place. He had a plan for me to give me purpose, fun, challenge, and adventure during the time I get my lowest when Cade is gone for long periods of time. He knew that come 2013, I'd be ready for something daunting to become a mission.

My default had been taking a summer off and spiraling into a pit.

His plan was to convince some parents to have me take their kids on an adventure...not just one they would learn about history and life on, but one that I would too.

My heart dropped. My heart filled with gratitude.

I had felt His guidance and peace throughout all of the planning and details, but at that moment, I felt the depth of His love, His faithfulness, His willingness to go ahead, to invite, to create a dream I didn't even know was in my heart.

Even though these last 5 years have included extreme heart ache and loss, loneliness and confusion, questions and wandering...I have witnessed God meet me and take me places where my confidence was built, my trust in Him grew, and watch Him cross my path in amazing ways creating moments...I mean real moments that I know I have to grab a hold of and squeeze.

Dealing with loss, dealing with pain and heartache, has made me appreciate joy, adventure, God's grace and faithfulness and His willingness to show up in ways that I can't plan, I can't even dream, I can't imagine.

Two nights before we left on our adventure, we gathered, families and all, and we ate together and prayed.

As I sat in that circle listening to the prayers, I wept.

I wept because God had planned this, not just for them, but for me.

I wept because these families were willing to financially invest, to send me off with their children, to let me take them on an adventure in a big city with big plans.

I wept because those 8 were no longer my students, they were more than that...and had been for a long time, but the love I felt for them at that moment was deep, was familial, was from God.

I wept because I knew I was part of a moment...a moment God had planned, and one He was letting me walk out with Him.

I've never been so humbled in all my life.
I've never prayed that hard.
I'd never felt the gravity of a moment for 9.
I'd never felt His grace so heavy within me.

We flew out Tuesday, met my sweet friend to be the 2nd chaperon, and the adventure began.

We walked the streets of Concord, the graves of Sleepy Hollow at 10:00 at night, had quiet time on the sacred grounds of Old North Bridge, rode the subways of Boston, watched the ultimate parade ala Americana in Plymouth, played football in Hahvahd Yahd, ate burgers at Bartley's, tried some Lobster, visited a small town ER (of course), used the first aid kit more than my wallet, sang at the top of our lungs with the windows rolled down, walked the Freedom Trail, and stood amongst thousands watching the most amazing fireworks show over the Charles River.

My mom died 5 years ago, and on her bucket list was to be in Boston on the 4th, watching the fireworks, listening to the pops.

Through God's grace, He placed it in the heart of a parent to invite me, on an adventure, during a season of my life that can be lonely, too quiet and still, one that I feel lost and wandery...and He invited me to go experience the magical, to be moved, to learn about history and about life, to have fun and experience a heart filled with joy, with love, and with gratitude...to have a moment with these kids and even with my mom.

As I stood, below the fireworks, that lit the entire night sky, surrounded by these kids who own a piece of my heart, I took each one, wrapped my arms around them and thanked them for being there with me, for coming as I had the chance to live out a dream my mom had, one placed within my heart years ago.

It was a moment, a moment I knew I had to squeeze with all my might.

God's grace is miraculous, it is overwhelming, it is real, and with no doubt, it is magical.

"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father...that you would be strengthened with power through His Spirit...so that Christ may dwell within your hearts through faith, and you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God. Now to Him who is able to do far more than we could ever ask or even IMAGINE...to Him be the glory!!!" (Eph. 3:14-21)

In Him,
Shelly

A little light-hearted fun this evening on dating, faith, and my "incredible" prayer life

I just got off the treadmill where two jack delightful men were having a very informative conversation about their "matches" they were "reviewing" on the ole iphone. I heard their voices while I was speeding passed them on my treadmill ;) as they stood and chatted. Actually, I overheard the convo on one of my many pitstops...what is it about turning 36 and apparently not being able to run without a gazillion pitstops...well, on my last pitstop, I caught wind of their insightful dialogue on just how "lovely" these ladies were and how 23 was lookin' pretty good to them.

Ya, it didn't give guys a good name...and if they weren't completely buff and I completely not, I would have said something really catchy and witty, but I didn't. I just put my headphones on and went back to kicking their butts on the treadmill.

On which I was watching "He's Just Not that Into You." Now that's a movie I couldn't watch for a few years. Yep, I watched it once, wanted to throw up, and never watched it again. In fact, it took me a while to forgive Bradley Cooper and watch other movies of his. :)

I related to too may of the characters and story lines in the film, and I hated watching it play out on screen.

Well I never related to Jennifer Aniston's character. I've never had her body...not even when I was 10, and the gorgeous hair, nope, never. Oh, and some tall, dark and handsome being in love with me for 7 years...that also is a big. fat. never.

But all the other awkward, terrible, make you vomit story lines having to do with love in that movie...ya, I could relate to those.

But over these last couple years or so, as TNT or TBS or whoever it is plays and replays it, I tend to watch it...intently. I don't know why.

Maybe for the very reason of it not making me want to throw up anymore, brings me pleasure. I like the end of it...the last 10 minutes. I don't typically get my great wisdoms or insights from Hollywood...well, I probably do, and that might be what is wrong with me, but that's beside my point...but as of late, I've really been thinking about this whole dating thing, love and all the advice and sayings and strategies, and well, I've made a few conclusions, and the last 10 minutes of this movie speaks to my conclusions, so of course, that means it. is. brilliant. ;)

About a week ago I had decided that I was going to write a blog on ridiculous dating advice and how it's all a bunch of hogwash. I was going to title it something like, "Rage against the dating machine..." but I knew if it sounded way too cynical in my head (which it did), then in blog form, I'd look like a complete bitter and cynical woman, so I opted not to write it...and just go on pretending I wasn't that bitter, nor cynical.

Actually, that's not why I definitely decided against it...my definite against it was when I was sitting in a large prayer circle last week and listened to all of the hurting and conflict and heartache and so much of it was tied to families and marriages. My heart hurt for them...and my heart became significantly more content with its present form...intact.

But, if I had written on that subject I would have included how I've decided that all the advice or strategies land squarely on on my list of "Ridonkerous Nonsense."

Why? you say.

Well, first off, if someone is a "dating expert" what does that say about them?? Let's think this through...who really wants to be a dating expert?.?. I'm a professional at going out with a whole bunch of people, but never really making a long lasting connection, or making a commitment or choosing just the right person...frankly, my suckage factor in picking the right person is so high that I am now an expert at just dating people.

So...why is it exactly I should take advice from them??

Next, the random advices one receives from the randoms in life are gems, let me tell ya.

"You are too closed...put yourself out there more." So, you do...then you are deemed "too eager."

So, you back up on the eager, which lands you in the, "You give off the 'I'm independent and not looking'" vibe.

Really??

Um, shoot me now.

Then, there's the friend advice. Yes, the advice from the lovelies in your life whose marriages you really do envy...or don't. So, half of it, you must filter through because frankly, you don't want to do what they did...but inevitably, the good ones, the love stories you've watched play out over the last 10 years include scenarios like,

"You know I didn't want anything to do with him because his first words to me were ridiculous and he couldn't string 2 thoughts together, but he pursued and I fell in love."

or "I just watched her/him from afar. I couldn't get enough courage to go up, but somehow, someway, it happened."

"I had stopped looking."

"I wouldn't have ever dated someone like him before."

"I was at work and he walked in the door...and boom, that was it."

"I knew him when I was younger, and I always told myself, I want to marry someone like him." (That's my personal favorite.  :)  )

I don't believe in the magical fairytale kind of stuff, but someone who has been a watcher, over thinking, break it all down, ridiculous kind of girl, I have concluded that when it is right, there was a touch of magic...a touch of a miracle moment.

None of it played out like the "dating advice" would have played it out: someone made a fool of themselves, went out on a limb, was too eager, was too hard to get, was not even looking.

That brings me back to the movie. There's a fantastic line right at the end, and yes, it is the ultimate chick flick money making kind of line, but honestly, I see truth in it.

The guy who eventually figures out he's in love with his good friend tells her (ever so sweetly and quietly as he gently kisses her...but I digress), "You are my exception."

Let's just all sit there for a moment...ahhh.

Ok, you might be saying this line is right up there with the "you complete me" nonsense from Jerry Maguire, but I do like this one much better.

I see more truth in this line.

Somehow, when it is right between two people who are willing to risk life and limb, their future, their heart, their hopes and dreams on someone, there is an exception that takes place that doesn't happen with other people.

The exception makes people say, "I will choose to turn my back on sooooooo many things in life that try and drag me in and drag me down. I choose to walk this path with you, with a partner, with someone else who is counting on me to not flush their life, their heart, their hopes, their dreams down the toilet. I choose to hitch myself to you. I will risk it all for a chance with you."

So, today as I hopped off my treadmill, sweating, getting my body in shape because delightful men are out their checking profiles and one's cellulite and age count, I thanked God for where I'm at, with the chance to someday meet someone who will be my exception...and I will be his.

This morning as I overslept, yet again, for church, and scurried out the door, I flipped on my radio to KLOVE. They were doing some special "day after fan awards" worship service. When I was just a couple miles away from the church parking lot, I got hooked in on the "sermon". He was laying out something he called basic and simple but crucial to our walk with the Lord. It was "3 Principles of faith." I was sucked in immediately, because I do a faith run down with my kiddos each fall, so simple, basic principles of faith would be great for me to hear.

But, I was also panicking since I was already showing up 10 minutes late and strategizing how I could walk in sans purse to appear like I've been there the whole time and not some loser who keeps walking in just before the preacher gets up.

I kept willing the KLOVE sermoner to get to it, to just tell me at the beginning of his spiel what his 3 principles would be. I needed him to break all the "I'm a good public speaker" rules and just list them out for those of us losers who overslept and were trying not to look foolish walking into church now 20 minutes late.

He listed the first one, "faith believes" and I was like, "ya, ya....Matthew 14, feeding the 5000, I get it...good one. Next one please."

Then, "Principle Number two, Faith Prays."

It hit me, between my eyes, in my heart.

I sat in my car and listened. I stopped worrying about my entrance strategies...but my purse was already hidden under my seat. ;)

See, when I wake up in the morning, I spend time in prayer...

I don't immediately turn on the TV or yell at my alarm clock for playing Depeche Mode, WHY radio?? Just WHY??

and during my days, I stay in constant prayer, over every decision, every child, every word I speak... nope, I don't whine all day to God or say things like, "God, You have GOT to be kidding me!"

and in my evenings, Frasier certainly is not my lullaby, and it is not true that I can quote more lines from Season 4 than I can from John or Romans.

And I don't ever realize and think, "Oh crap, I haven't prayed for Cade in like 2 days"...and that's spotting me a couple days.

Nope, none of that...

"Faith Prays", he said.

Gosh, I struggle the most with prayer.

And as the sermoner was talking about how faith prays, he said, "and doubt doesn't".

Ouch.

That. is. me.

When I get frustrated, angry, confused, annoyed, irritated at how my life is not how I pictured it, I. stop. praying.

I doubt all the time.

And then, I talk myself out of praying. I convince myself I'm manipulating or treating God like a genie or all I'm doing is asking Him to fix things, or I don't want to keep being disappointed, or...I just stop and give Him the silent treatment, because well, that's what I do, because I doubt.

The Sermoner went on to say how someone who believes in the sovereignty of God, who TRUSTS God, who has a heart for God, His agenda, His will, PRAYS.

His 3 Principles on faith may have been basic and simple, but I needed to hear them. I needed God to speak to my heart about prayer.

I'm in front of kids a lot.

I tell kids about God, we talk Bible and faith and walking things out.

This spring was the first time I ever thought, "as you write them this note, Shelly, saying these truths, encouraging their walk with God...are you believing this? Are you holding onto this? Are you walking this out?"

That was a tough conversation to have with myself...and I sat there, telling God I didn't know what to say back. I didn't know my honest answer to those questions.

When my mom was sick and I was going through a complete melt down in my marriage and life, I journaled an enormous amount. I spent loads of time in my Bible because I had no where else to turn than to beg Him for help.

That time led me to start a card company. I made cards with all the verses I wished people had told me during the time my heart hurt so badly.

It wasn't the "you can do all things through Christ...", which you can and is true, but that verse seemed to be one that people always said, you know, when they worried about a test, or if their chicken was going to turn out in spite of their lack of cooking skills.

I was passed worrying about finding the best baby wipes (Huggies, not even a question) or making sure I had lipstick on when my husband got home, my heart was breaking, and I needed to hear how God rescues, redeems, and goes to the edge of the eternity to grab hold of you.

I needed to hear,

"I will give new life to the humble, and to those whose hearts are broken."

"He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you can hide. His truth will be your shield and protection."

"I am still confident that I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord, and take courage. Wait for the Lord. Yes, STAY with God."

"Do not fear! Stand and see the salvation the Lord will accomplish for you today...The Lord will fight for you, you need only to keep still."

I made it my mission to tell others what MY heart needed to hear.

So, today, in spite of my "come and go" questions, my thoughts that can be twisting in the wind, or my wandering faith, I make it my mission to tell my kiddos the truths about God, the One who does not change like shifting shadows, to speak Scripture into them, because my heart, my mind, my soul need to hear it just as much.

Keep walking, keep dreaming, keep believing, keep praying, keep trusting God in and for everything.

Maybe the dating experts are just like that...they share simple truths, common sense ways to present yourself, to be a normal human being so others will feel comfortable rejecting approaching you and striking up a conversation with you. They share it, because they too need to be reminded of it. They too are hoping one of these times, as they are fumbling to practice what they preach, it'll "work" because eventually, if they are willing to wait and persevere, they will find themselves standing in front of their exception, and that magical, miracle kind of moment will occur.

Shelly

The Adventure of Heading into Your Valley of Loneliness: Sometimes Kid President, Bob Goff, David Crowder, and Propaganda get to be part of it.

First, your reading experience will be enhanced if you put on some David Crowder tunes, specifically "Let Me Feel You Shine"...actually, your day will go from a 3 to a 9 just by having that song become your musical score for Sunday, May 19th.  :)

I am ridiculous when it comes to writing. Writing is incredibly therapeutic for me; it's a moment I feel God do something in me and through me that is unexplainable, but I seem to avoid it as long as I can. It's like I'm birthing something...I know something good will come out, but the 4-24 hours of pain in the midst of it is scary, overwhelming, and since I'm not actually birthing something, it's completely avoidable.

But, I'm walking into the valley of writing, knowing God wants me to, so trusting He's with me...here we go.

I just returned from the Love Does conference put on by Bob Goff. If you haven't heard of Bob Goff or his book Love Does, I'm not going to try and tell you about him or convince you to go find out or to buy it, for 2 main reasons.

1. He's not describable. I mean really, he's not describable. He's goodness, light, fun, love, hope, and complete unimaginable adventure rolled up into one and whatever you are thinking that looks like, multiply that by 100, and you now have Bob.

He's the guy who tries witch doctors in Uganda...I mean hundreds of witch doctors, but then calls meetings with them in some hut in the middle of Africa to wash their feet and be Jesus to them, while also answering his cell for anyone and everyone, including the guy in prison who thinks he's calling Latifa. But, Bob answers, all 5 times, conference calls his mom since Latifa won't talk to prison dude, and then Bob himself helps the guy since no one in his family will answer his calls anymore.

And then, he's the guy, who as I walk up to him and immediately ask him to sign a couple books for me, pauses, looks me fiercely in the eyes, and says, "Hi, I'm Bob. What's your name?" and gives me a huge hug.

He's the guy who leaves a bowl of money in the entryway of the conference and tells us, if you need some money, take some. If you have some to share, put it in there.

He's the one who tells the woman with the dream of going to Africa and working with children, to go with him...he has a school, full of children who need a woman like her. And then to follow his example, someone offers to pay for her storage unit for a year, and another says he'll pay for her plane ticket.

He's the guy who says we're family, that we all now have a lawyer...him, and that love does stuff and it's messy and hard and exhausting but that we have eternity to rest, so let's do stuff!

And, the second reason I won't try to tell you or convince you is you wouldn't believe the stories anyways, so...

To say this was a unique conference would be an understatement. To say I was challenged by it would also be an understatement.

But, to say I was encouraged by this conference wouldn't even be in the ballpark of correct. This conference spoke into you. You know the kind of people you walk away from who just told you you COULD do it. You ARE the person. You might be where you are right now, but let's get on the road to where you want to be, and I AM HERE TO HELP GET YOU THERE.

This conference was that...the one with people speaking into your life, your heart, the places that hold your dreams, your hurts, your hopes, your deepest insecurities.

Bob is the guy who tells you, you can, and LET'S DO!

It makes me think of David and Goliath or Joshua headed into the promised land.

There were the millions of "believers" standing, sitting, talking smack, sharing opinions, saying what is and what now....

but then, there was David walking across the valley

headed straight for the giant

and the jaws of all those watching, dropped.

David was armed with what he had, what God had given him, the skills he possessed, his youth, his faith.

David took what he had and hitched it to God and they walked, together, to defeat a giant.

And everyone else just sat and watched.

Joshua stood at the Jordan with millions of whiney children of God, scared, doubting, high maintenance, dead weight

yet He hitched his warrior courage to God and they walked, together, to conquer, to take the promises of God.

Bob, one of the most humble men you will meet, has hitched all he has to God, and they have walked to places I don't even open my brain up to, and they have shown the world that love does stuff;

it goes to the depths and rescues.

it heads to the pit of evil, grasps the tips of fingers that are the only remnants of life left, and by the Mighty hand of God, grabs hold and brings them back.

it conquers;

it experiences the promises of God, the Might of God

Bob calls himself a porter. He views his purpose to be one that greets people, I mean really greets them...even the ones who just walk up with tunnel vision, not wanting to be groupieish or uncool and just asks for his signature on a book...ya, those, he stops them. Introduces himself, and asks her name, and then wraps her up and hugs her...in a way she didn't even know she needed.

And then, being a porter, he follows it up with, "now what can I do for you, to help you along your way?"

He says, "Where are you going and how can I help get you there?"

He says, "Let's walk together."

As a teacher, as someone who works with kids day in and day out, looking at faces that will travel this world doing who knows what, these moments listening to all the speakers at the conference were huge to me.

It helped me articulate what my desire is as a teacher, it helped me focus what my desire should be and what kind of person and teacher I WANT to be...I am a porter, and I want to be a porter on steroids for these kids.

Two months ago when I first saw the tweet about his conference, I knew I wanted to go. I'd like to say it's because I'm all about being a Love Does kind of gal...but that would be lie.

You see, over these last 4.5 years of single-dom and finding myself and trying to navigate who I am and where I'm going and how do I do life not really knowing what I want, or what I want isn't something you just go out and make happen kind of stuff, I've tried to stay on track by going and doing things where people so far above my pay grade go.

Trying to do this road of divorce, single mom hood, grieving losing my mom and best friend, reconstructing hopes, dreams, purpose, direction while letting go of lies, jacked up fallacies of money, love, friendship, transparency, self-righteousness, my identity, and faith...

I've tried to choose some healthy ways to find adventure, to frankly, escape my day to day...even though 98% of my day to day is pretty rockin', that 2% seems to get pretty heavy at times.

That 2% would be loneliness.

So, I drown my loneliness in adventure. ;)

I completed 10 half marathons...not really for athleticism, we've all seen me, I'm not the one anyone is  going to put on any half-marathon poster, I did it to give "cred" to my travels, to get away, to go find God, away from my box, away from my head.

See, when I travel, it takes me out of my comfort zone. Even though I LOVE to travel, I actually have to take medicine to get on a plane. Planes still cause me anxiety. So, just to get off the launching pad, I have to go to a personal place of being "stripped" down to my most vulnerable state, to the point that I'm praying God helps me not to cause a complete scene at 30,000 feet where I'm screaming, running up and down the aisle, begging the pilot to land in that field in the middle of Nebraska.

So far that's not happened, I just whimper on the person next to me, asking them to hold me and sing, "Jesus Loves Me" over and over in my ear.  :)

Thankfully, once my medicine kicks in, I am relaxed, sleepy, and able to make it to the other shore...while drooling on the person next to me.

I land, I get some fun rental car, side bar: this time, I hit jackpot. He offered me their new mercedes for a VERY NOMINAL fee. And as I was tempted to take it since this would be ultimate victory in my pursuits of getting the best car for absolutely dirt cheap costs, I did decline it. I told him, even though that did sound awesome and he was so generous to be that kind, I'm not a mercedes kind of gal. Now, was there a Ferrari by chance? ;)

No, I asked him if there was anything super fun yet a step down from Mercedes? He did, and I loved it.

I've got this rental car thing DOWN! I tell ya...it's my thing. We all need a thing, and getting a fun rental for DIRT cheap is my thing. It won't kill any giants, but it'll get you to the valley in something fast, with a great sound system.  ;)

So after I land in Seattle, drooling...

I hop in a car, alone.

I drive in an unfamiliar city, alone.

I check into my hotel, alone.

I walk into a conference with over a thousand people, alone.

And I do all of that because I want to experience God. I know I'm in need of meeting Him, I know my life has gotten too crowded, too busy, too easy for me to ignore Him, so I go to the valley, to meet giants I know I'm running from, and I'm hoping He's going to meet me there.

I'm hoping He's walking with me there...or at least riding in my really cool car jamming to Needtobreathe on the way.

Inevitably, I meet giants along the way that I I've been pretending aren't there.

Expectations, desires, walls, heartache, insecurities, fears, shame, confusion, wonkiness inside me that I keep stuffed deep down.

When I travel, I try to choose a place to go where there are people on roads to awesome (as KP would say). I want to surround myself with people who are headed down a road I would like to be on. I don't know how or why or what part I play in it, because frankly, I'm stuck with being so self-absorbed, that I don't know how I'm going to change the world or write some great story, but I like to be around those who do...even if it makes me feel more lost or confused or like a big fat failure.

I want to be headed down their roads even if I'm just the girl passing out the water as they go by exhausted from their work.

I want to be inspired by them and encouraged that somehow, someway I might find myself moving down the path of awesome, not on their coattails, but next to them.

And let's have full disclosure here, I also go because it's a place full of men who love Jesus and are committing their lives to something other than driving a mercedes someday, and one of them might be in need of a confused blond headed woman who is there for slightly jacked up reasons and is trying to figure out this thing called life.  :)

None of them seem to be in need of that yet, but there's a Christian conference every other weekend ladies, and I say the next one should be in Paris, where the taxis are mercedes, and the "souvenirs" would be killer...just sayin'.

So, traveling, alone, strips me down to places I can't control. To places that I'm so vulnerable that even my stubborn, "I can handle this and look like I know what I'm doing" personality can't cover up. My mind can't will itself to stop thinking about certain fears or doubts or hurts.

I can't hide my conversations from God,
I can't not have those hard talks with Him,
I can't hold it back.

My walls get taken down far enough that the flood of the real, the vulnerable, the hurt Shelly comes pouring out.

So, with my fears, my anxieties, my insecurities, my hurts, my heartache, my loneliness, I head to the valley, with my ipod playing David Crowder, and miraculously, God is always there, waiting for me.

He has people like Dean Curry and Veronica Tutaj, Propaganda and Kid President, Joshua Dubois and Don Miller, John Cotton Richmond and Bob Goff speak into me.

They speak into those places, into those hurts and insecurities and then He has David Crowder provide this spiritual experience of God's love that makes one's heart overflow with joy and a need to raise hands and dance.

I learned a myriad of truths from this conference, but more for me, it was the reminder, that in our lives, we have to keep walking to the valley, we have to ignore the opinions, the naysayers, the lies, the witty onlookers, the voices inside out heads and walk to that valley with the resources and skills God has given us, and know, without a doubt, He's walking with us into the valley, and He's going to defeat the giants with us.

My strength, my knowledge, my understanding, just me, won't defeat that giant, but my willingness to walk with Him will allow me to witness how He uses the impossible to bring about the unimaginable.

Something Veronica Tutaj said in her incredible schpeel, pointed me to Psalm 107. I've now read it and reread it.

You need encouragement?

God is waiting for you at Psalm 107.

Oh give thanks to the Lord, for He is good,
For His lovingkindness is everlasting.
Let the redeemed of the Lord say so,
Whom He has redeemed from the hand of the adversary
And gathered from the lands,
From the east and from the west, from the north and from the south.
They wandered in the wilderness in a desert region;
They did not find a way to a land with life.
They were hungry and thirsty.
Their soul fainted within them.

Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble;
He delivered them out of their distresses.
He led them also by a straight way,
To go to a place with life.
Let them give thanks to the Lord for His lovingkindness,
And for the wonderful things He has done for them!
For He has satisfied the thirsty soul,
And the hungry soul He has filled with what is good.

In conclusion :) did spending all of my birthday money along with doing something Dave Ramsey would NOT agree with to get me to Seattle and go to this conference solve my problems?

No.

But, my life isn't about solving my problems. It's about getting out of my head, meeting God in the valley, and letting Him set me on that straight path to defeating the giants He has planned to use me to defeat...and sometimes that includes an adventure to the land of Starbucks and huge trees that fill my brain with more oxygen in 2 days than I get in a week in Texas.

And I walked away with much encouragement, encouragement that will stick with me forever.

Dean Curry said, "We were saved from something for something."

Don Miller reminded me, "This ends well. We know how this ends, and it ends well."

And Sweet Maria told me, "You find your courage when you do stuff. Courage comes when doing. Go find your courage."

These 2 days came at a moment when I felt like the wind on my back had become still, that I was

beginning to stop rowing my boat, so I needed to be reminded of a truth God taught me from my half marathons, to just keep walking. But this time, He used a cute 9 year old boy, Kid President, to speak into my heart "...even though the waves are bigger than our boats, the wind keeps us sailing, it's what gives us hope. Some days it stops, but we'll keep rowing, because people like you whisper, keep going, keep going, keep going."

If you feel like no wind is pushing you along, and your arms are tired from rowing alone, invite Jesus in, and He'll help you row, in fact, He'll row for you...

just keep going, keep going, keep going.

In Him,
Shelly