I looked for my tennis shoes yesterday. I couldn't find them. I thought to myself, "hmmmm, when did I see them last?"
And I couldn't answer the question.
For nearly 10 years, those shoes were on my feet more than any other pair. I wouldn't go a day without wearing them, using them, and letting them be my steady friend of stability and predictability.
Then 2015/2016 happened and I don't even know where they are today.
Even worse, I think I threw them away the other day. I came across a pair of tennies (ya , you heard that right, I came across a pair) a week or so ago and thought they were my way old pair and tossed them.
I vaguely remember this.
Yep, that's how bad it has gotten...I vaguely remember throwing my apparently unrecognizable pair of tennis shoes away.
What has happened to me and how have I drifted so off course when it comes to this area of my life...an area I thought was embedded to the very core of my existence.
Two weeks ago, I went looking for my Bible. I couldn't find it.
I thought, "hmmmmm, when was the last time I saw it?"
I couldn't answer that question either.
I had no recollection of where my Bible could possibly be.
Thankfully, I had no memories of throwing it away, but the pit in my stomach was just the same.
This wasn't the first time I'd wondered where my Bible was over this last year. In fact, it's almost every Sunday.
I bought a computer 3 months ago. Today is my second time to open it. I left it at Walmart for 10 days after delivery before I even went to pick it up.
I left it in the box in my kitchen for nearly a month before I opened it.
I bought it because my mac was officially dying. I couldn't write/blog anymore because it wasn't compatible to blogger, which was fine, because as my life became hijacked by good, glorious stuff in 2016, I stopped reading, running, and writing...the 3 R's of my life.
And as I've watched the "shore of Shelly" drift away over the last year, I've desperately wanted to throw the anchor overboard and stop it from happening, but I couldn't.
I mean, I just never could.
I'm not sure why.
I guess I don't do well with change...or maybe I'm just lazy...or maybe it's life and seasons as you age hijack your simple life routines...or maybe I'm allowing myself to get blown by the winds of change and it's too much work to lift the anchor and throw it overboard.
I'm really not sure. It's probably all of that combined.
In the end, it doesn't really matter why. It happens and as we drift and even watch ourselves do so, somehow we've gotta throw that anchor overboard and stop ourselves before we are too far from the shore and all but convince ourselves we can't find our anchor.
The voice inside my head has gone from whispering to screaming to throw the anchor over, and today is the first day I listened to it.
I found my Bible, I went to DSW and bought a pair of running shoes, drove to Starbucks and began to write.
I'm throwing my anchor over.
For about 6 months I felt so guilty with my drifting that I just listened to the guilt.
The next 6 months, I ignored the guilt but listened to the shame...how I'd lost credibility and can't even remember how to do it. You can barely walk, you don't even remember how to read, and you have nothing to say because you've become a bump on a log.
Today, as I nestled in my house that now FEELS like home, the voice came back and said get up, no more drifting, and go find the shore once more.
We're working our way through Hebrews at church and it's been one of the best sermon series I've listened to...maybe because it was the only time I was really listening to God's voice.
Hebrews is rich and deep and convicting.
In Hebrews 2, it warns us about drifting away...
Ever since reading that on a Sunday over 2 months ago, I've had the picture of the little boat I'm in and how I've let myself drift...so. far. away.
Wen my world came crashing down, the disciplines of healthy living became the anchor to keep me rooted, grounded, and close to shore.
But this time, when life got busy with gloriously fun and joyous things, I let go of the disciplines and let myself drift.
I long for the predictably, sometimes boring, simple disciplines of life that keep one rooted to something bigger, deeper, truer than anything life has to offer.
I miss the secret place of God's goodness.
I miss the flow of His sweet whisper as I write and seeing His truth as I flesh things out.
I miss wrestling with Him as I jog and listening to His grace as I walk and the feeling of my heart beating wildly as I do so.
I miss the shore and what it has to offer. The peace that sure footing brings. The refuge from the storms. The beauty of listening to the waves but not being shaken by them.
To sit on the sand, watching the sun rise and set and knowing that you are right where you belong.
Today, as the voice became so loud I couldn't ignore, I asked myself, "how do you get back?"
Where is my anchor?
And I put on my teacher voice and answered my question just as I would answer my students.
Start with what you know.
Start with what you know Shelly.
"You have taken account of my wanderings...this I know, that God is for me...In God I have put my trust, I shall not be afraid..." (Psalm 56)
"How great is Your goodness, which You have stored up for those who fear You, which you have have wrought for those who take refuge in You, before the sons of men.
You hide them in the secret place of Your presence from the conspiracies of man; You keep them secretly in a shelter from the strife of tongues.
Blessed be the Lord, for He has made marvelous His lovingkindness to me in a besieged city.
As for me, I said in my alarm, "I am cut off from before Your eyes",
Nevertheless You heard the voice of my supplications when I cried to You.
O love the Lord, all you His godly ones!
The Lord preserves the faithful and fully recompenses the proud doer.
Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who hope in the Lord." (Psalm 31)
Have you been drifting?
Do you feel so far from shore that you feel like you could never make it back again?
Have you lost your anchor?
Well, start with what you know.
God is for you.
It's as simple as that.
Exit the drifting boat and know, God will guide you back.
In Him,
Shelly
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Finding Home after I lost mine.
Most of my adult life has been me searching for "my home".
During college, I loved coming home...there was a security found in those walls, in my bedroom, and on that couch. Much of it was because of who resided there; my mom and dad brought me immense security.
When life was difficult and unsure in my twenties, their home was my refuge. It was where I felt okay, calm, and safe.
But then, I lost my mom and part of that went away. My home was still my solid ground, but when life moved on and my divorce was finalized and my dad was getting remarried, my “home”, my safe haven was taken, it vanished and was no more.
Where was my home going to be now? Where could I go to feel safe and secure? Where could I go that allowed me to breathe and truly find peace amongst any storm?
And so my journey began...I needed to find a place I could trust, a place that removed the angst, the fear, and the uncertainty life brings. I needed my safe haven.
A few years back, I had a friend ask me how I could trust God when, even though I prayed, bad things still happened.
"How can you trust something that still allows hurt?"
It was the same quandary I lived in for years...and by years I mean, almost my entire life...until I had figured out where my home truly was and the only thing I could really trust.
What if my refuge, my safe place, my trust wasn’t in something that was temporal?
What if my home wasn’t somewhere that could die, be sold, or could turn and walk away?
Anxiety and fear are rooted in insecurity. I don’t know what comes first, the fear, or the tragedy that sparks the fear and insecurity. Either way, they will both be birthed in our lives in one form or another, and we will deal with them in one form or another.
We will try our best to create a refuge to bring about this security we long for.
Whether it’s in parents or marriage, in kids, our independence, or an abundance of things...we long for a place to feel safe and to breathe, so we build our tents of security.
Unfortunately all we can build are tents, structures that get easily knocked down when storms come.
Inevitably, our security is placed in earthly things that will be destroyed.
There isn’t one place we can make our home that is safe here on earth.
It will all fail. Nothing here is faithful till the end.
It falls, it stumbles, it hurts, it gets sick, and it all eventually dies...
So, as I searched and as I’ve wandered, wondered, and pondered through these last several years of being on my own looking for my home, I’ve finally figured out where it is and where it must be...
It’s with God.
I know, it’s the Sunday school answer of “Jesus!” but for nearly 38 years, that’s all it was to me...just an answer I said, never the truth in my life.
The Psalmist must've struggled to find his home as well. As he faced the storms, he eventually concluded this same truth.
And the kiss of God's amazing grace for me today is, as I wrote and pondered these things and words of mine nearly 2 weeks ago, He had me re-find and reread Psalm 46 today.
It was one of my mom's favorites. I've read it countless times over the years, but not really with this context of searching for home. And as I read it today, the flood of a new perspective fell upon it, and I began to tear up.
For, something she embedded in me years and years ago, has now grown into a truth in my life..."Be still and know that I am God."
Just like the Psalmist, she too had found her refuge in the storms, and her testimony and walk continues to impact mine.
Through time, those words have gradually moved from my head down to my heart, but on this rainy, dreary morning, I believe God has set them deep within my soul.
It wasn't until I lost "my home", that her words to me could help me find where my home truly is.
People, only a good, good God could bring that kind of beauty from ashes.
God is our refuge and strength,
always ready to help in times of trouble.
So we will not fear when earthquakes come
and the mountains crumble into the sea.
Let the oceans roar and foam.
Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge
A river brings joy to the city of our God,
the sacred home of the Most High.
God dwells in that city; it cannot be destroyed.
From the very break of day, God will protect it.
The nations are in chaos,
and their kingdoms crumble!
God’s voice thunders,
and the earth melts!
The Lord of Heaven’s Armies is here among us;
the God of Israel is our fortress.
Come, see the glorious works of the Lord:
See how He brings destruction upon the world.
He causes wars to end throughout the earth.
He breaks the bow and snaps the spear;
He burns the shields with fire.
“Be still, and know that I am God!
I will be honored by every nation.
I will be honored throughout the world.”
The Lord of Heaven’s Armies is here among us;
the God of Israel is our fortress.
Psalm 46
I’ve said it before, I’m a girl who likes to have arrived, and to no longer have to strive and fight and work.
I want to cross the finish line and just sit on the other side and bask in the hammock of completed, but that’s not how life works.
Tomorrow comes. It always does.
One must get up once more and face what another day has for us, and if it’s a day on this earth, anything can await us. Both the incredible and the tragic. It can be what we never could have dreamed of and it could be what only our nightmares contain.
We must get up and fight our way through it, live into it, praise God for it, pray God carries us through it and all of that takes divine intervention for us to rise up and carry on. There is no other way.
After a long hard day, physically, emotionally, mentally, all I want to do is find my safe place where my mind can rest, my heart can remember, and my body can breathe. I want my exit to safety, to peace.
And after searching for home for nearly 38 years, the only place I’ve ever found it to truly be, is with Jesus.
No marriage, no mom or dad, no house, no job, no independent spirit, no determination to succeed, no pursuit in life will provide a permanent place to reside and be completely safe to breathe, to surrender, to just be.
Only God speaks life, speaks assurance, speaks love, and provides the grace and hope this life requires.
All we have to do is get up again, and go where He has set for us, and know that at the end of the day, during the day, and every moment in between, we have a home with Him and He’s made His home in us.
"When we've given up
Let your healing come
When there's nothing left
Let your healing come
Till we're rising up
Let your healing come
Where you go, we will follow." (David Crowder)
This I know, God is for you.
Shelly
During college, I loved coming home...there was a security found in those walls, in my bedroom, and on that couch. Much of it was because of who resided there; my mom and dad brought me immense security.
When life was difficult and unsure in my twenties, their home was my refuge. It was where I felt okay, calm, and safe.
But then, I lost my mom and part of that went away. My home was still my solid ground, but when life moved on and my divorce was finalized and my dad was getting remarried, my “home”, my safe haven was taken, it vanished and was no more.
Where was my home going to be now? Where could I go to feel safe and secure? Where could I go that allowed me to breathe and truly find peace amongst any storm?
And so my journey began...I needed to find a place I could trust, a place that removed the angst, the fear, and the uncertainty life brings. I needed my safe haven.
A few years back, I had a friend ask me how I could trust God when, even though I prayed, bad things still happened.
"How can you trust something that still allows hurt?"
It was the same quandary I lived in for years...and by years I mean, almost my entire life...until I had figured out where my home truly was and the only thing I could really trust.
What if my refuge, my safe place, my trust wasn’t in something that was temporal?
What if my home wasn’t somewhere that could die, be sold, or could turn and walk away?
Anxiety and fear are rooted in insecurity. I don’t know what comes first, the fear, or the tragedy that sparks the fear and insecurity. Either way, they will both be birthed in our lives in one form or another, and we will deal with them in one form or another.
We will try our best to create a refuge to bring about this security we long for.
Whether it’s in parents or marriage, in kids, our independence, or an abundance of things...we long for a place to feel safe and to breathe, so we build our tents of security.
Unfortunately all we can build are tents, structures that get easily knocked down when storms come.
Inevitably, our security is placed in earthly things that will be destroyed.
There isn’t one place we can make our home that is safe here on earth.
It will all fail. Nothing here is faithful till the end.
It falls, it stumbles, it hurts, it gets sick, and it all eventually dies...
So, as I searched and as I’ve wandered, wondered, and pondered through these last several years of being on my own looking for my home, I’ve finally figured out where it is and where it must be...
It’s with God.
I know, it’s the Sunday school answer of “Jesus!” but for nearly 38 years, that’s all it was to me...just an answer I said, never the truth in my life.
The Psalmist must've struggled to find his home as well. As he faced the storms, he eventually concluded this same truth.
And the kiss of God's amazing grace for me today is, as I wrote and pondered these things and words of mine nearly 2 weeks ago, He had me re-find and reread Psalm 46 today.
It was one of my mom's favorites. I've read it countless times over the years, but not really with this context of searching for home. And as I read it today, the flood of a new perspective fell upon it, and I began to tear up.
For, something she embedded in me years and years ago, has now grown into a truth in my life..."Be still and know that I am God."
Just like the Psalmist, she too had found her refuge in the storms, and her testimony and walk continues to impact mine.
Through time, those words have gradually moved from my head down to my heart, but on this rainy, dreary morning, I believe God has set them deep within my soul.
It wasn't until I lost "my home", that her words to me could help me find where my home truly is.
People, only a good, good God could bring that kind of beauty from ashes.
God is our refuge and strength,
always ready to help in times of trouble.
So we will not fear when earthquakes come
and the mountains crumble into the sea.
Let the oceans roar and foam.
Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge
A river brings joy to the city of our God,
the sacred home of the Most High.
God dwells in that city; it cannot be destroyed.
From the very break of day, God will protect it.
The nations are in chaos,
and their kingdoms crumble!
God’s voice thunders,
and the earth melts!
The Lord of Heaven’s Armies is here among us;
the God of Israel is our fortress.
Come, see the glorious works of the Lord:
See how He brings destruction upon the world.
He causes wars to end throughout the earth.
He breaks the bow and snaps the spear;
He burns the shields with fire.
“Be still, and know that I am God!
I will be honored by every nation.
I will be honored throughout the world.”
The Lord of Heaven’s Armies is here among us;
the God of Israel is our fortress.
Psalm 46
I’ve said it before, I’m a girl who likes to have arrived, and to no longer have to strive and fight and work.
I want to cross the finish line and just sit on the other side and bask in the hammock of completed, but that’s not how life works.
Tomorrow comes. It always does.
One must get up once more and face what another day has for us, and if it’s a day on this earth, anything can await us. Both the incredible and the tragic. It can be what we never could have dreamed of and it could be what only our nightmares contain.
We must get up and fight our way through it, live into it, praise God for it, pray God carries us through it and all of that takes divine intervention for us to rise up and carry on. There is no other way.
After a long hard day, physically, emotionally, mentally, all I want to do is find my safe place where my mind can rest, my heart can remember, and my body can breathe. I want my exit to safety, to peace.
And after searching for home for nearly 38 years, the only place I’ve ever found it to truly be, is with Jesus.
No marriage, no mom or dad, no house, no job, no independent spirit, no determination to succeed, no pursuit in life will provide a permanent place to reside and be completely safe to breathe, to surrender, to just be.
Only God speaks life, speaks assurance, speaks love, and provides the grace and hope this life requires.
All we have to do is get up again, and go where He has set for us, and know that at the end of the day, during the day, and every moment in between, we have a home with Him and He’s made His home in us.
"When we've given up
Let your healing come
When there's nothing left
Let your healing come
Till we're rising up
Let your healing come
Where you go, we will follow." (David Crowder)
This I know, God is for you.
Shelly
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Rule #3: Up to date, Keep your passport. (Yoda Dad) New Year's Resolution: Follow a few simple rules.
This morning I sat for coffee with one of my very favorite people. She asked me what my resolutions were for this year. She knows that even if I don't verbalize my goals, I have them.
She knows I don't function without goals. She too is a goal setter, and even if we don't have the same path, we are both strivers...we constantly strive for the betterment of ourselves and our families. We both see how movement is required and we both believe in the sentiment, to quote Shawshank Redemption, you either "get busy living or get busy dying".
I opened my book of lists, (yep, you heard it, a book of lists) and I shared a few with her.
After I told her (my seemingly impossible) book reading goal, she asked me why. "Why is that so important to you?"
Because this question was coming from an AVID reader herself, one that could school me on volume and breadth when it came to this arena, I knew it wasn't truly a why question but more of a friend investigative one.
My answer: my complete lack of intellectual tenacity...the very reason I beat myself up over my TV watching. I've become the slug who's letting her brain become slow and mushy, and this year, it ends.
Tenacity is a lost art on me. I've given in to the laissez faire attitude of our culture, and just how easily that attitude is my default, completely scares me.
I'm like a 5 year old when it comes to the need of structure. If it isn't there, I'm hanging from the chandelier, over my bed that hasn't been made in weeks, covered in cookie crumbs and dirty dishes.
I go from 38 year old to pre-K student in less than 3 days of no structure.
One of my hang ups when it comes to my lack of tenacity is that I know I'm missing opportunities...not any known ones per se, but the ones I'll never know about because I wasn't prepared, I hadn't gotten myself ready for "the call", so "the call" never came.
Several years back, my dad gave me GREAT advice..it was more of a parental, "you should do that" moment, but man, did God use that moment to speak a life lesson into my heart.
Upon some random question about one of my various trips to Seattle a few years back, I had said I really wanted to go to Victoria and British Columbia but my passport was expired so I wouldn't be doing it.
In shock and horror, my dad gasped, "You should always have your passport up to date. You never know when an opportunity will arise and you never want that to be a reason you have to decline the opportunity."
At the time, I rolled my eyes. Such a dad thing to say...
Except it was a total yoda moment for him in that to this very day, as I veg or procrastinate or exercise total intellectual decay, my yoda dad's voice rings in my head and heart, "You're not going to be ready Shelly. You're not preparing yourself for the unknown adventure that awaits you and when the opportunity arrives, you'll have to decline it...Don't let your passport on life expire."
In divorced life, there's LOTS of down time. Alone. quiet. no one seemingly exists. what do I do with myself? having a full blown conversation with your fridge. if a Shelly fell in the forest, would anyone notice? kind of moments.
These moments can be both a blessing and curse, just like family time can be. The constant surrounding of human beings can drive you batty, and well, being alone a lot, can definitely do the same.
Several years back, I decided that I wouldn't let my singleness define me. I'd live in the time I have and not let my preconceived notion of what my life "should" look like dictate my future movement. Hence, I traveled a lot...even on my my own. I made the decision to live out what my heart desired even if it's different than how my mind had pictured it.
I'd pick myself up and live...even if I had to do it on my own.
I'd walk into church alone, go to concerts alone, sign up for races and conferences alone, go to parties alone.
I saw that I had 2 choices: stagnant bitter hermit or get busy living
I chose the latter. I chose to face the beast of "single mom" and trust that God would teach me something in the alone of it all.
He has. Very much, He has.
On the days that I'd feel desperately alone and desire so much for something to change in my life so this nagging feeling of "waiting for my life to begin" would stop, I'd remember 2 passages.
"Tremble, and do not sin; meditate in your heart upon your bed, and be still. Do what is right, and trust in the Lord." Psalm 4:4
and the second,
"Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness." Psalm 37
In other words, in whatever it is that you're facing that is seemingly confusing, hard, incongruent with how you thought things would work out, just breathe. Breathe, do the next right thing, and trust God.
Or, as Mary Engelbreit would say, Bloom where you've been planted.
As a child, I loved Mary Engelbreit and this was one of her more famous quotes. I was always intrigued by it, but I had no idea what it meant.
Not a clue. And not even that I didn't have a clue, I didn't understand how it could possibly be true in life.
See, I was ALWAYS about the end game. Always.
I was a "decide where you're planted and go after it" kind of girl. I was the "if I don't like it here, screw this, and I'll make my own patch just the way I want it" girl.
There was no middle for me. There was no journey, only an arrived. I only wanted to live in the "arrived".
I had my picture of how it would turn out, and I was about getting to that point as fast as possible.
No middle, no figuring it out, no wrong turns, no gray, no waiting, no grace. None of it. I wanted nothing to do with it, and I was completely ignorant to its necessary existence.
And to answer your question of, ummmm, lady, how on earth did anything in your life turn out? Well, we now see one of the many reasons for the necessary and horrific detour of 2008.
My illusion of a life came tumbling down...my matchstick temple burned to a crisp, and I was left...I was left in need of being planted, because I no longer knew, well, anything.
I no longer knew anything.
I'd finally accepted the conclusion that I was a little seed in great need of a planter. I was not god, but I was in desperate need of the real One.
When you're reduced to a seed, life becomes pretty simple. I slept, ate, mothered, and spent time with God. And in that, God and His beautiful grace got me to a point where I could grow again, and during this seven years of singledom and quiet, God has taught me the art of blooming where I'm planted.
Take one day at a time, do what you're supposed to today, and let Him orchestrate the tides of life.
And for a recovering anxious control freak, that's a pretty good lesson in life. Before, I lived in the land of 2 weeks, 2 years, and even 2 decades down the road, and never in the present.
I can't even fathom how much I missed in the presents.
That's why such a simple card that read, "Bloom where you're planted" made no sense to me.
If you've been planted that means you're not in control. It means something else has dictated where you've been left. Control freaks can't comprehend that, and being forced to grow and bloom where you didn't say you wanted to go is unfathomable.
Taking my tightly bound hands off the illusion of the wheel, and let life play itself out is something I couldn't comprehend.
That madness in my life had to stop. It had to.
So, in 2016, along with my seemingly impossible reading goal, I shall also do my best to live by Rule #2: Bloom where you're planted.
Keep your tank full Shelly, your passport up to date (Rule #3), and keep paddling.
Be tenacious in your pursuits, and some how, some way, God's plan for your future, His opportunities, will find you along the way, and you'll be ready.
Wherever you are today, bloom. Show up and do what God has called you to do today.
This I know, that God is for you.
In Him,
Shelly
She knows I don't function without goals. She too is a goal setter, and even if we don't have the same path, we are both strivers...we constantly strive for the betterment of ourselves and our families. We both see how movement is required and we both believe in the sentiment, to quote Shawshank Redemption, you either "get busy living or get busy dying".
I opened my book of lists, (yep, you heard it, a book of lists) and I shared a few with her.
After I told her (my seemingly impossible) book reading goal, she asked me why. "Why is that so important to you?"
Because this question was coming from an AVID reader herself, one that could school me on volume and breadth when it came to this arena, I knew it wasn't truly a why question but more of a friend investigative one.
My answer: my complete lack of intellectual tenacity...the very reason I beat myself up over my TV watching. I've become the slug who's letting her brain become slow and mushy, and this year, it ends.
Tenacity is a lost art on me. I've given in to the laissez faire attitude of our culture, and just how easily that attitude is my default, completely scares me.
I'm like a 5 year old when it comes to the need of structure. If it isn't there, I'm hanging from the chandelier, over my bed that hasn't been made in weeks, covered in cookie crumbs and dirty dishes.
I go from 38 year old to pre-K student in less than 3 days of no structure.
One of my hang ups when it comes to my lack of tenacity is that I know I'm missing opportunities...not any known ones per se, but the ones I'll never know about because I wasn't prepared, I hadn't gotten myself ready for "the call", so "the call" never came.
Several years back, my dad gave me GREAT advice..it was more of a parental, "you should do that" moment, but man, did God use that moment to speak a life lesson into my heart.
Upon some random question about one of my various trips to Seattle a few years back, I had said I really wanted to go to Victoria and British Columbia but my passport was expired so I wouldn't be doing it.
In shock and horror, my dad gasped, "You should always have your passport up to date. You never know when an opportunity will arise and you never want that to be a reason you have to decline the opportunity."
At the time, I rolled my eyes. Such a dad thing to say...
Except it was a total yoda moment for him in that to this very day, as I veg or procrastinate or exercise total intellectual decay, my yoda dad's voice rings in my head and heart, "You're not going to be ready Shelly. You're not preparing yourself for the unknown adventure that awaits you and when the opportunity arrives, you'll have to decline it...Don't let your passport on life expire."
In divorced life, there's LOTS of down time. Alone. quiet. no one seemingly exists. what do I do with myself? having a full blown conversation with your fridge. if a Shelly fell in the forest, would anyone notice? kind of moments.
These moments can be both a blessing and curse, just like family time can be. The constant surrounding of human beings can drive you batty, and well, being alone a lot, can definitely do the same.
Several years back, I decided that I wouldn't let my singleness define me. I'd live in the time I have and not let my preconceived notion of what my life "should" look like dictate my future movement. Hence, I traveled a lot...even on my my own. I made the decision to live out what my heart desired even if it's different than how my mind had pictured it.
I'd pick myself up and live...even if I had to do it on my own.
I'd walk into church alone, go to concerts alone, sign up for races and conferences alone, go to parties alone.
I saw that I had 2 choices: stagnant bitter hermit or get busy living
I chose the latter. I chose to face the beast of "single mom" and trust that God would teach me something in the alone of it all.
He has. Very much, He has.
On the days that I'd feel desperately alone and desire so much for something to change in my life so this nagging feeling of "waiting for my life to begin" would stop, I'd remember 2 passages.
"Tremble, and do not sin; meditate in your heart upon your bed, and be still. Do what is right, and trust in the Lord." Psalm 4:4
and the second,
"Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness." Psalm 37
In other words, in whatever it is that you're facing that is seemingly confusing, hard, incongruent with how you thought things would work out, just breathe. Breathe, do the next right thing, and trust God.
Or, as Mary Engelbreit would say, Bloom where you've been planted.
As a child, I loved Mary Engelbreit and this was one of her more famous quotes. I was always intrigued by it, but I had no idea what it meant.
Not a clue. And not even that I didn't have a clue, I didn't understand how it could possibly be true in life.
See, I was ALWAYS about the end game. Always.
I was a "decide where you're planted and go after it" kind of girl. I was the "if I don't like it here, screw this, and I'll make my own patch just the way I want it" girl.
There was no middle for me. There was no journey, only an arrived. I only wanted to live in the "arrived".
I had my picture of how it would turn out, and I was about getting to that point as fast as possible.
No middle, no figuring it out, no wrong turns, no gray, no waiting, no grace. None of it. I wanted nothing to do with it, and I was completely ignorant to its necessary existence.
And to answer your question of, ummmm, lady, how on earth did anything in your life turn out? Well, we now see one of the many reasons for the necessary and horrific detour of 2008.
My illusion of a life came tumbling down...my matchstick temple burned to a crisp, and I was left...I was left in need of being planted, because I no longer knew, well, anything.
I no longer knew anything.
I'd finally accepted the conclusion that I was a little seed in great need of a planter. I was not god, but I was in desperate need of the real One.
When you're reduced to a seed, life becomes pretty simple. I slept, ate, mothered, and spent time with God. And in that, God and His beautiful grace got me to a point where I could grow again, and during this seven years of singledom and quiet, God has taught me the art of blooming where I'm planted.
Take one day at a time, do what you're supposed to today, and let Him orchestrate the tides of life.
And for a recovering anxious control freak, that's a pretty good lesson in life. Before, I lived in the land of 2 weeks, 2 years, and even 2 decades down the road, and never in the present.
I can't even fathom how much I missed in the presents.
That's why such a simple card that read, "Bloom where you're planted" made no sense to me.
If you've been planted that means you're not in control. It means something else has dictated where you've been left. Control freaks can't comprehend that, and being forced to grow and bloom where you didn't say you wanted to go is unfathomable.
Taking my tightly bound hands off the illusion of the wheel, and let life play itself out is something I couldn't comprehend.
That madness in my life had to stop. It had to.
So, in 2016, along with my seemingly impossible reading goal, I shall also do my best to live by Rule #2: Bloom where you're planted.
Keep your tank full Shelly, your passport up to date (Rule #3), and keep paddling.
Be tenacious in your pursuits, and some how, some way, God's plan for your future, His opportunities, will find you along the way, and you'll be ready.
Wherever you are today, bloom. Show up and do what God has called you to do today.
This I know, that God is for you.
In Him,
Shelly
Friday, January 1, 2016
New Year's Resolutions found in the depths of Show Holes and Empty Wells.
I've been pondering New Years resolutions for a couple of weeks now, if not longer.
When one is dissatisfied with things, New Years resolutions are enticing, they elicit a new version of you that you wish you could be. They usher in hopes and dreams and wishes for a skinnier, richer, happier, smarter life.
And when one is feeling fatter, poorer, sadder, and dumber, the promise of a new year and the "if I make them, they will happen" mentality is VERY enticing.
But, then January 1st arrives and we realize that sitting on a couch watching marathons of NCIS and envisioning the skinnier, happier, smarter, and richer Shelly doesn't change anything.
What the heck?? You mean you have to do something more than just make the resolution?!?!?
That stinks!
Wouldn't it be great if we could just lay out all we "wanted" for the New Year and for one day experience it, get a taste of it, so we would have the motivation to actually work for it??
Ahhhhh, if only...then it would work.
Ya, who am I kidding. It still wouldn't work.
Because I desire a product of awesomeness with a path of least resistance.
And there in lies the problem. Least resistance is my MO.
Nothing truly beautiful comes from least resistance. It's impossible.
But that doesn't stop me from wanting to magically become someone who isn't sitting on her couch entering a show hole on December 28, 2016, all the while being the person who's sitting on her couch entering a show hole on December 28, 2015.
Impossible dreams.
Least resistance puts you on a stream that doesn't take you far. It might be pretty and calm and at times scenic, but you end up seeing the same scene over and over, because you refuse to paddle passed it. You're stuck amongst the same weeds and flowers and brush with nothing new on the horizon.
You're stagnant, refusing to paddle and avoiding any waves that might actually take you somewhere.
Stagnation is only satisfying for a short while, because you will inevitably realize you're no longer in a stream, but in a puddle, at the bottom of a pit.
You either have to numb yourself through it to convince yourself you want to stay there, or you have to pick up your boat and go find a river.
I've been stagnant for a long while, and I'm having to acknowledge I'm now in a puddle, that can quickly become a pit.
God has been gracious to put all sorts of rivers in my path this year, and I hopped on them and rowed as fast as I could because I saw His river and I knew I didn't want to miss a few of its waves, but as soon as I could hop off it this fall, I picked up my boat and went back to the calm of stagnation.
It seemed safe.
It had little resistance, required minimal output, and I could sit in the sun and let the small ripple push my floaty along.
Stagnant water doesn't even require a boat, just a floaty. I can just sit and do nothing...
but then those pesky gnats come along, the view is deathly boring, and the water is murky.
And the cycle begins again...get numb or get moving.
But the thought of leaving my puddle and going to His river is overwhelming. The thought of resistance, of the unknown of the waves and direction, and the amount of output required of me is daunting...so I continued to choose my puddle.
I numb myself by watching something distracting.
This break I chose to watch marathons of dark, creepy TV shows that take me from the pinnacle of "I have hopes and dreams and by golly I'm going to go for them before I turn 40!!" to "What's the point? Nothing ever changes. I'm worthless. This world is dark and creepy and I never reach a goal, and I'm a complete loser."
Thank you producers of Mr. Robot.
The best commercial I saw was the Netflix one...or maybe it is Amazon Prime...but it's the "Show hole" one.
Holy Schnikees is it accurate?!?!
The ironic thing is that it's advertising for something that will take you from one show hole and plunge into a hole that is deeper, darker, and 5 days further down the path of "you're wasting your life away".
I usually choose to do this to myself after Cade leaves for an extended amount of time. It seems to be inevitable. I tend to need 24 hours to process, moan, groan, and be depressed while numbing myself with watching television.
I'm aware of it every time. I beat myself up about it every time.
When the marathon of my latest show hole was ending after only 10 episodes, I actually looked up to the ceiling, raised my hands, and exclaimed, "Thank you God! It's only 2:00 in the afternoon!"
I needed Him to miraculously end my pit of despair. I needed Him to save me from myself by making this TV show end.
I needed Him to show me He had a river awaiting me, and I was stuck in my puddle.
I changed the channel and wandered in my puddle a bit longer, but I could hear the birds chirping and the Light was breaking in again.
If I did get anything from my hole it was that as I watched the creepy, dark show, I was greatly aware of the twisted nature we humans get ourselves in, especially if we are separated from the Light.
As I watched and saw how the writers of the show were trying to create this scenario where "If only all the debt was erased, then we'd be free", "if we scheme and can get to the top, then we can be our own god", "if we can take away the pain through drugs, alcohol, manipulation, sex, money, then we can escape the pain and reach this pinnacle of something I'm not even sure of." it made me keenly aware of how lost and confused we are...how many of us are choosing stagnant puddles found at the bottom of deep, dark pits.
As I watched I kept wondering, what are they thinking will be accomplished by any of this? What is their end?
I want to sit in a room and ask the writer, to what end are you taking this? What will be achieved? What greater good is coming? What truth is being exploited here?
What's the point you are making?
And the answer would be, there is none.
The world is pining for, scrambling for, grasping at the idea that there's this big conspiracy to keep everyone's happiness locked away in a box somewhere and only the richest, darkest, schemiest of those have it, and the only way you track that supposed happiness down is by delving into the darkness of finding it, by enslaving ourselves to the very base of human desire.
I've lived a pretty naive life, with very little exposure to the dark and paranoia this life can involve and is so easily accessed by any and all of us, but I got a glimpse "over the wall" several years back.
I was in my own pit, and it was a dark one...but I was dealing with someone who had crossed over the wall found in another realm of darkness...a wall that I didn't really know about, but one I had only read about or watched on TV, but this person had gone there.
And because I had to deal with some things with this person, I got a glimpse over that wall. I had to be drawn to the window of it, and I saw in.
Even if it was just a skewed, foggy picture of it, I got a glimpse, and the glimpse was enough for me to take a whole lot of steps back and do all I could to not ever get close to the window again.
I now knew there truly was a twisted, dark, paranoid life out there, and I knew that I never wanted to get entangled in it.
I've known pits, destructive, despairing pits, but I now knew there were darker ones, where the desperation is so deep, it scared me to even get a glimpse in.
All that to say, I know those pits are easily accessed by any of us. I know that various pits in life are just a succession of daily missteps and wrong turns and the ignoring of that sweet whisper inside of us beckoning us to turn around, to reengage, to not believe the dark nor the schemes, nor the idea of how pursuing the lies will bring an ounce of satisfaction, of contentedness, or hope.
The end those all profess is an illusion of a temple, but that temple is made of matchsticks.
It won't withstand a simple wind, and if you make your way to it, you will be destroyed by its own inevitable fire.
One way to find yourself in a pit is to let your well run dry. Without the life source of the well, it just becomes a deep pit.
This last year, I let my well run dry.
I ran until I couldn't run anymore. And instead of choosing to refill and stay connected to the source of life for my well, I chose to let it start becoming a pit.
In many aspects, 2015 was like a marathon for me. We all have years like that. Big opportunities, great responsibilities, lots to juggle, and even though so much of mine were incredible blessings, I refused to stop and refuel...I didn't do what I'd been trained to do. I stopped being disciplined about how I ran and became haphazard about it all, and I let myself think it wouldn't matter that much.
I turned my back on my number one rule in life: Rule #1 IT MATTERS!
I chose to eat metaphorical donuts, to run until I crashed and then get back up and sprint some more.
I rarely refueled properly or reconnected myself to the very source that gives me life.
I just kept running on empty, while wondering why I felt empty or why I felt like I was going in a circle.
When one's well is dry, stagnation is the go to. There is nothing to give it the energy to choose the river that's going somewhere.
Plopping seems to be the only choice because to get out of the pit would require climbing...no matter the gnats, the quiet, or the murky water...climbing out and picking up my boat to head to the river would require something I began to believe I didn't have...purpose.
Purpose was becoming elusive because I kept choosing my stagnant puddle, and purpose and meaning require movement, and I was losing the motivation to move. I was beginning to believe the lie that I didn't have it in me to move again, to pick up my boat and go find His river.
And even worse, I had started to believe that if I didn't know where His river would take me, I'd rather stay in my puddle, right here in my pit.
So, what's my 2016 New Year's resolution?
To lose 15 pounds? To pay off debt? to get smarter? Be a more present mom? To turn off my stinkin TV?
No.
It's not.
My resolution, what I am resolved to do is to not let my well run dry.
I am resolved to acknowledge that I'm floating in a stagnant puddle down in a pit because I've let my well run dry, and in 2016, I'd like to get my well filled up again, so I can pick up my boat and go find His river.
My goal is to wake up each day and ask God to help me let Him turn my pit back into His well, and then to give me the determination to stand up and have the courage to find His river and row where He leads me.
To stop believing the lie and believe His truth and His plan matters in my life and to pursue it each and every day.
What would happen if I let Him turn my pit back into His well?
How is life different when I choose His well of truth and beauty over the pit of dark and creepy?
It becomes a life full of light.
"For you are all children of the light and of the day; we don’t belong to darkness and night. So be on your guard, not asleep like the others. Stay alert and be clearheaded. Night is the time when people sleep and drinkers get drunk. 8 But let us who live in the light be clearheaded, protected by the armor of faith and love, and wearing as our helmet the confidence of our salvation.
For God chose to save us through our Lord Jesus Christ, not to pour out his anger on us.10 Christ died for us so that, whether we are dead or alive when he returns, we can live with him forever.
So encourage each other, build others up.
Honor those who are your leaders in the Lord’s work. They work hard among you...Respect them.
Live peacefully with each other.
We urge you, warn the lazy, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, and be patient.
Don't repay evil with evil.
Seek after the good for all.
Rejoice always.
PRAY without ceasing.
Give thanks, for this is God's will for you.
Listen to the Holy Spirt, don't ignore it.
Consider prophetic teachings but examine everything carefully.
HOLD FAST to what is good, abstain from every form of evil...
What happens when I choose to listen to His voice and ignore mine and go find His river?
"Now, may the God of peace sanctify you entirely, and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved complete."
And the greatest of all the lines...the reason why pursuing this has such a beautiful outcome. It's because the river of God takes you somewhere miraculous.
Faithful is He who calls you and He will also bring it to pass. 1 Thes. 5
In 2016, I just need to remember that the guarantee is with Him. It's His promise that will come to pass, not one from Gillian Michaels or Oprah Winfrey.
So, what's my New Year's resolution?
To stop ignoring that whisper inside my head, the one inside my soul...
because it's in the whisper...the answer is always in the whisper, found at a well so deep, it's goodness never ceases.
"When I'm afraid, I will put my trust in You...You have taken account of my wanderings; put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book? Then my enemies will turn back in the day when I call; This I know, that God is for me."
This I know, that God is for me.
In Him,
Shelly
When one is dissatisfied with things, New Years resolutions are enticing, they elicit a new version of you that you wish you could be. They usher in hopes and dreams and wishes for a skinnier, richer, happier, smarter life.
And when one is feeling fatter, poorer, sadder, and dumber, the promise of a new year and the "if I make them, they will happen" mentality is VERY enticing.
But, then January 1st arrives and we realize that sitting on a couch watching marathons of NCIS and envisioning the skinnier, happier, smarter, and richer Shelly doesn't change anything.
What the heck?? You mean you have to do something more than just make the resolution?!?!?
That stinks!
Wouldn't it be great if we could just lay out all we "wanted" for the New Year and for one day experience it, get a taste of it, so we would have the motivation to actually work for it??
Ahhhhh, if only...then it would work.
Ya, who am I kidding. It still wouldn't work.
Because I desire a product of awesomeness with a path of least resistance.
And there in lies the problem. Least resistance is my MO.
Nothing truly beautiful comes from least resistance. It's impossible.
But that doesn't stop me from wanting to magically become someone who isn't sitting on her couch entering a show hole on December 28, 2016, all the while being the person who's sitting on her couch entering a show hole on December 28, 2015.
Impossible dreams.
Least resistance puts you on a stream that doesn't take you far. It might be pretty and calm and at times scenic, but you end up seeing the same scene over and over, because you refuse to paddle passed it. You're stuck amongst the same weeds and flowers and brush with nothing new on the horizon.
You're stagnant, refusing to paddle and avoiding any waves that might actually take you somewhere.
Stagnation is only satisfying for a short while, because you will inevitably realize you're no longer in a stream, but in a puddle, at the bottom of a pit.
You either have to numb yourself through it to convince yourself you want to stay there, or you have to pick up your boat and go find a river.
I've been stagnant for a long while, and I'm having to acknowledge I'm now in a puddle, that can quickly become a pit.
God has been gracious to put all sorts of rivers in my path this year, and I hopped on them and rowed as fast as I could because I saw His river and I knew I didn't want to miss a few of its waves, but as soon as I could hop off it this fall, I picked up my boat and went back to the calm of stagnation.
It seemed safe.
It had little resistance, required minimal output, and I could sit in the sun and let the small ripple push my floaty along.
Stagnant water doesn't even require a boat, just a floaty. I can just sit and do nothing...
but then those pesky gnats come along, the view is deathly boring, and the water is murky.
And the cycle begins again...get numb or get moving.
But the thought of leaving my puddle and going to His river is overwhelming. The thought of resistance, of the unknown of the waves and direction, and the amount of output required of me is daunting...so I continued to choose my puddle.
I numb myself by watching something distracting.
This break I chose to watch marathons of dark, creepy TV shows that take me from the pinnacle of "I have hopes and dreams and by golly I'm going to go for them before I turn 40!!" to "What's the point? Nothing ever changes. I'm worthless. This world is dark and creepy and I never reach a goal, and I'm a complete loser."
Thank you producers of Mr. Robot.
The best commercial I saw was the Netflix one...or maybe it is Amazon Prime...but it's the "Show hole" one.
Holy Schnikees is it accurate?!?!
The ironic thing is that it's advertising for something that will take you from one show hole and plunge into a hole that is deeper, darker, and 5 days further down the path of "you're wasting your life away".
I usually choose to do this to myself after Cade leaves for an extended amount of time. It seems to be inevitable. I tend to need 24 hours to process, moan, groan, and be depressed while numbing myself with watching television.
I'm aware of it every time. I beat myself up about it every time.
When the marathon of my latest show hole was ending after only 10 episodes, I actually looked up to the ceiling, raised my hands, and exclaimed, "Thank you God! It's only 2:00 in the afternoon!"
I needed Him to miraculously end my pit of despair. I needed Him to save me from myself by making this TV show end.
I needed Him to show me He had a river awaiting me, and I was stuck in my puddle.
I changed the channel and wandered in my puddle a bit longer, but I could hear the birds chirping and the Light was breaking in again.
If I did get anything from my hole it was that as I watched the creepy, dark show, I was greatly aware of the twisted nature we humans get ourselves in, especially if we are separated from the Light.
As I watched and saw how the writers of the show were trying to create this scenario where "If only all the debt was erased, then we'd be free", "if we scheme and can get to the top, then we can be our own god", "if we can take away the pain through drugs, alcohol, manipulation, sex, money, then we can escape the pain and reach this pinnacle of something I'm not even sure of." it made me keenly aware of how lost and confused we are...how many of us are choosing stagnant puddles found at the bottom of deep, dark pits.
As I watched I kept wondering, what are they thinking will be accomplished by any of this? What is their end?
I want to sit in a room and ask the writer, to what end are you taking this? What will be achieved? What greater good is coming? What truth is being exploited here?
What's the point you are making?
And the answer would be, there is none.
The world is pining for, scrambling for, grasping at the idea that there's this big conspiracy to keep everyone's happiness locked away in a box somewhere and only the richest, darkest, schemiest of those have it, and the only way you track that supposed happiness down is by delving into the darkness of finding it, by enslaving ourselves to the very base of human desire.
I've lived a pretty naive life, with very little exposure to the dark and paranoia this life can involve and is so easily accessed by any and all of us, but I got a glimpse "over the wall" several years back.
I was in my own pit, and it was a dark one...but I was dealing with someone who had crossed over the wall found in another realm of darkness...a wall that I didn't really know about, but one I had only read about or watched on TV, but this person had gone there.
And because I had to deal with some things with this person, I got a glimpse over that wall. I had to be drawn to the window of it, and I saw in.
Even if it was just a skewed, foggy picture of it, I got a glimpse, and the glimpse was enough for me to take a whole lot of steps back and do all I could to not ever get close to the window again.
I now knew there truly was a twisted, dark, paranoid life out there, and I knew that I never wanted to get entangled in it.
I've known pits, destructive, despairing pits, but I now knew there were darker ones, where the desperation is so deep, it scared me to even get a glimpse in.
All that to say, I know those pits are easily accessed by any of us. I know that various pits in life are just a succession of daily missteps and wrong turns and the ignoring of that sweet whisper inside of us beckoning us to turn around, to reengage, to not believe the dark nor the schemes, nor the idea of how pursuing the lies will bring an ounce of satisfaction, of contentedness, or hope.
The end those all profess is an illusion of a temple, but that temple is made of matchsticks.
It won't withstand a simple wind, and if you make your way to it, you will be destroyed by its own inevitable fire.
One way to find yourself in a pit is to let your well run dry. Without the life source of the well, it just becomes a deep pit.
This last year, I let my well run dry.
I ran until I couldn't run anymore. And instead of choosing to refill and stay connected to the source of life for my well, I chose to let it start becoming a pit.
In many aspects, 2015 was like a marathon for me. We all have years like that. Big opportunities, great responsibilities, lots to juggle, and even though so much of mine were incredible blessings, I refused to stop and refuel...I didn't do what I'd been trained to do. I stopped being disciplined about how I ran and became haphazard about it all, and I let myself think it wouldn't matter that much.
I turned my back on my number one rule in life: Rule #1 IT MATTERS!
I chose to eat metaphorical donuts, to run until I crashed and then get back up and sprint some more.
I rarely refueled properly or reconnected myself to the very source that gives me life.
I just kept running on empty, while wondering why I felt empty or why I felt like I was going in a circle.
When one's well is dry, stagnation is the go to. There is nothing to give it the energy to choose the river that's going somewhere.
Plopping seems to be the only choice because to get out of the pit would require climbing...no matter the gnats, the quiet, or the murky water...climbing out and picking up my boat to head to the river would require something I began to believe I didn't have...purpose.
Purpose was becoming elusive because I kept choosing my stagnant puddle, and purpose and meaning require movement, and I was losing the motivation to move. I was beginning to believe the lie that I didn't have it in me to move again, to pick up my boat and go find His river.
And even worse, I had started to believe that if I didn't know where His river would take me, I'd rather stay in my puddle, right here in my pit.
So, what's my 2016 New Year's resolution?
To lose 15 pounds? To pay off debt? to get smarter? Be a more present mom? To turn off my stinkin TV?
No.
It's not.
My resolution, what I am resolved to do is to not let my well run dry.
I am resolved to acknowledge that I'm floating in a stagnant puddle down in a pit because I've let my well run dry, and in 2016, I'd like to get my well filled up again, so I can pick up my boat and go find His river.
My goal is to wake up each day and ask God to help me let Him turn my pit back into His well, and then to give me the determination to stand up and have the courage to find His river and row where He leads me.
To stop believing the lie and believe His truth and His plan matters in my life and to pursue it each and every day.
What would happen if I let Him turn my pit back into His well?
How is life different when I choose His well of truth and beauty over the pit of dark and creepy?
It becomes a life full of light.
"For you are all children of the light and of the day; we don’t belong to darkness and night. So be on your guard, not asleep like the others. Stay alert and be clearheaded. Night is the time when people sleep and drinkers get drunk. 8 But let us who live in the light be clearheaded, protected by the armor of faith and love, and wearing as our helmet the confidence of our salvation.
For God chose to save us through our Lord Jesus Christ, not to pour out his anger on us.10 Christ died for us so that, whether we are dead or alive when he returns, we can live with him forever.
So encourage each other, build others up.
Honor those who are your leaders in the Lord’s work. They work hard among you...Respect them.
Live peacefully with each other.
We urge you, warn the lazy, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, and be patient.
Don't repay evil with evil.
Seek after the good for all.
Rejoice always.
PRAY without ceasing.
Give thanks, for this is God's will for you.
Listen to the Holy Spirt, don't ignore it.
Consider prophetic teachings but examine everything carefully.
HOLD FAST to what is good, abstain from every form of evil...
What happens when I choose to listen to His voice and ignore mine and go find His river?
"Now, may the God of peace sanctify you entirely, and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved complete."
And the greatest of all the lines...the reason why pursuing this has such a beautiful outcome. It's because the river of God takes you somewhere miraculous.
Faithful is He who calls you and He will also bring it to pass. 1 Thes. 5
In 2016, I just need to remember that the guarantee is with Him. It's His promise that will come to pass, not one from Gillian Michaels or Oprah Winfrey.
So, what's my New Year's resolution?
To stop ignoring that whisper inside my head, the one inside my soul...
because it's in the whisper...the answer is always in the whisper, found at a well so deep, it's goodness never ceases.
"When I'm afraid, I will put my trust in You...You have taken account of my wanderings; put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book? Then my enemies will turn back in the day when I call; This I know, that God is for me."
This I know, that God is for me.
In Him,
Shelly
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Making Memories...the reason I take Cade to Disney
Being divorced, I quickly realized that making traditions and memories would have to be VERY intentional. Something that just comes naturally and inevitably in a traditional family setting, doesn't come in a divorced setting. There's too much back and forth and change from year to year. No holiday looks the same, no birthday or graduation comes easy or is predictable. The only tradition in divorce seems to be that there is no tradition.
So after year one, I decided as a mom, I would work at making memories...Cade and I would experience adventures together, and that our tradition would be, we travel and go have a blast experiencing this world together.
It all started the year after my mom's death. It was the summer after my divorce, and my dad took me and Cade to Hawaii. I saved my money to take Cade and me to swim with the dolphins. Seeing his smile and hearing the laughter sealed the deal for me. My money and resources would go to making memories...of creating moments of extreme laughter, wonder, and awe.
And this will be year 3 of Cade receiving plane tickets and Disney gift cards for Christmas. In the grand scheme of things, I'm not a big Disney person. I don't want a Goofy t-shirt nor a Toy Story pencil...now Mickey ears ice cream is another story, but that has more to do with the ice cream than the shape it is found in.
I was secretly hoping he'd choose the Wizarding World of Harry Potter because that's where my 10 year old (or 35 year old) self wanted to go. I may have even been playing a loop of "you want to go see Harry Potter and shop eat at the Three Broomsticks..." as he slept, but I had decided that wherever he chose (within reason), we'd try and make happen.
And though my experience told me I it was the best thing for me to do as a mom, one of my 5th graders taught me just how true that was.
One thing I do as a teacher is have my students create thankful lists in their Bible journals. We write 6 each day, and each child accumulates 50 - 100 items depending on the year and how many days I have them do it before Christmas. Everyday we do it, I have each child share one they wrote that day. We each get to hear what others have reflected on being thankful for. It's terrific! I love it every time!
So after year one, I decided as a mom, I would work at making memories...Cade and I would experience adventures together, and that our tradition would be, we travel and go have a blast experiencing this world together.
It's been the best decision I've made. Memories are something we have, and traveling together is something that builds trust, cultivates love and friendship, confidence and bravery, and it opens up your imagination and soul to a bigger world, so when your world gets very small and sad and dark, you remember there's more out there and it's awaiting you to come and rediscover it once again.
I truly believe God uses traveling to remind us how BIG HE is, that the world doesn't revolve around us, and there's a bigger story and to never be afraid to go out and find it.
It all started the year after my mom's death. It was the summer after my divorce, and my dad took me and Cade to Hawaii. I saved my money to take Cade and me to swim with the dolphins. Seeing his smile and hearing the laughter sealed the deal for me. My money and resources would go to making memories...of creating moments of extreme laughter, wonder, and awe.
Cade's 4th grade year was a Spring Break that I had him. He and I road tripped across Texas; touring Blue Bell, watching jousting (and other questionable "shows" at Sherwood Forest), ice skating at the Galleria, and singing at the top of our lungs with the windows down.
And this will be year 3 of Cade receiving plane tickets and Disney gift cards for Christmas. In the grand scheme of things, I'm not a big Disney person. I don't want a Goofy t-shirt nor a Toy Story pencil...now Mickey ears ice cream is another story, but that has more to do with the ice cream than the shape it is found in.
This tradition...hey, look at what God can do, divorced families can have traditions, that's called grace Shelly, right there, that's grace... it all started when Cade was entering 5th grade. Being a 5th grade teacher, I'd hear numerous stories of parents and grandparents taking their children on trips commemorating the end of Grammar school...and then of course I had read Bob Goff's book and he does 10 year old adventures, and though I was not able to take my child to an obscure mountain range in Asia or even the Empire State building in New York, me and my travel bug knew I could do something adventurous with Cade.
I was secretly hoping he'd choose the Wizarding World of Harry Potter because that's where my 10 year old (or 35 year old) self wanted to go. I may have even been playing a loop of "you want to go see Harry Potter and shop eat at the Three Broomsticks..." as he slept, but I had decided that wherever he chose (within reason), we'd try and make happen.
My secret scheming worked, because he exclaimed, "Harry Potter World!" WOOHOO!
He and I saved for nearly a year and it was so fun anticipating the trip. At Christmas, we opened Disney gift cards and Universal Studio ones. We kept our monies in a special box and we'd label what we'd use it for. We had wand savings, Mickey Mouse ice cream funds, and visions of riding Thunder Mountain Railroad until midnight.
Planning, anticipating, and going on that trip with Cade was one of the best decisions I've made as a mom, and I decided I'd keep making that one each year.
And though my experience told me I it was the best thing for me to do as a mom, one of my 5th graders taught me just how true that was.One thing I do as a teacher is have my students create thankful lists in their Bible journals. We write 6 each day, and each child accumulates 50 - 100 items depending on the year and how many days I have them do it before Christmas. Everyday we do it, I have each child share one they wrote that day. We each get to hear what others have reflected on being thankful for. It's terrific! I love it every time!
Two years ago, the same year of our first Disney adventure, one of my students shared the most profound one that truly solidified in me that what God had led me to do with Cade, was something I needed to keep as a priority in my life. I can't thank Connor enough for teaching me that what I do as a mom matters...matters more than I'd realized.
Here's the letter I sent out to the 5th grade parents reminding them and encouraging them that what they do matters too...my prayer is that it would encourage you too.
I'm not sure how it is already December 22nd, but it is. No matter if it feels like it should be or not, the calendar overrules all feelings and tells us Christmas 2015 is just 3 days away.
Over these last few weeks, as the students filled their Bible journals with 100's of things they were thankful for, I was always impressed with the wisdom and simplicity many expressed through their gratitude: Family, friends, a warm and safe home, cozy slippers, loving parents, God's word, Jesus dying on the cross, forgiveness, and much more. It's always a blessing to see into their worlds through the lead of their pencils as they share their thoughts.
One year as I did this, a particular "thankful item" was especially poignant.
The student wrote, "I am thankful for memories."
This one stood out to me because I had lost my mom 5 years prior, so at times, I live on memories. In fact, memories can be what carry me through quiet holidays.
But, I love how God's grace gives us the chance to make new memories everyday. We are capable of creating moments that can last a lifetime in a child's heart.
As a teacher, one of my main goals is to have a year the students remember, one filled with incredible memories. I want it to be a year that challenged them, stretched them and matured them, but also one filled with more fun than a school year is supposed to contain. I want them leaving saying, "Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!" J
That's why muffin mountains and a week with daily sugar cookies and classrooms filled with dancing are worth the craziness that can follow. Those days are filled with laughter, they bring joy to a sad soul, and give us something to remember.
God is the best memory maker, and He continuously tells us, "Remember, remember, remember."
I pray this Christmas is one of remembering what God has done for us and in us.
The angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord." Luke 2:10-11
He came down to be with you and me. May it be fresh in our hearts and remind us all that we are loved and valued beyond comprehension.
If this holiday season is tough for you and your family, my prayer is that your home will be overwhelmed by God's peace, that the grace of Emmanuel will ignite a hope that would otherwise be absent.
The next day, the student shared one more, "I'm grateful for parents who make memories with me." -what a beautiful picture of family, of God's grace in our lives.
May 2016 be the year we intentionally create incredible moments for our families that will be remembered for a lifetime and can even carry them through hard times if and when they come.
Merry Christmas!
Shelly Vaughn
Last year's trip included a night of rain, pouring down drenching rain. There wasn't lightning, so Disney continued on, and as I debated on whether or not I could continue in the rain, I remembered Connor's profound words and Cade and I rode Thunder Mountain Railroad 23 times that day. We were completely soaked, but had never laughed so hard as we watched the fireworks over head and had the sensation of riding a roller coaster through a swimming pool. We made a memory that I will treasure forever.
Sunday, November 29, 2015
His Amazing Grace beckons us to show up and Watch HIM.
(I composed this over a month ago, but never revisited it and hit send. So grateful I wrote this down...God tells us to REMEMBER, and without a written record, it's amazing how one can forget...even when the amazing happens.)
It's been forever since I've written. Today, I knew it was time. In fact, I knew if I didn't today, I would've ignored an appointment I had. I have no idea what I'm supposed to write, but I know there's something God has been showing me all summer, so we'll start there and see where He takes this.
It was May 28th. I was finishing up the busiest 3 months I'd had in recent memory. I hadn't stopped going. School was incredibly busy and every weekend had something major going on so I hadn't rested or gathered myself in months.
I was headed into the busiest portion of my summer. In the subsequent 5 weeks, I was taking 3 different groups of 8 students on 3 different trips. I was headed to Boston twice and Philly once...but by July 8th, I'd be finished, I'd be able to finally rest after nearly 5 months of non stop.
My trips don't just entail the 5 days of travel, they included 4 group meetings, so times 3 is 12 group meetings, and one meeting per traveller that is one on one, so that's 24, and then a prayer gathering for each group, and due to busy schedules, a couple of trips required 2 options for that.
So, in conclusion, that's over 40 meetings from February-June...and then we travel and go have the best time in glorious cities.
I was looking forward to the trips because that's when the fun kicks in, the getaway, and the adventure, and due to such a busy spring, I was ready for the adventure.
So on May 28th, when I received a text from my traveling partner and sweet bestie about a home in Boerne, I shrugged it off as just another attempt to get me to do something that was impossible for me at this time in my life.
I'd dreamed of moving into Boerne proper for years. I'd dreamed of either having my dad design me a house or help me redo a little cottage for as long as I could remember. But it was a dream. A dream that I knew wouldn't ever be fulfilled. Ever.
There was no way it could. Barring a marriage where my small teaching salary wasn't the only funds I had to use, it was an impossible dream. And since marriage would have to bring along the provision, I never wanted to truly dream about it because I don't ever want that to be part of my search for someone...I don't want my desire for things to ever be a motivation for me to date someone...and that easily could be. Financial security is a wooing factor in my life.
SO, I didn't ever really dream about it. It was on the list of impossible things that my life wasn't going to include and I had come to the place with that being okay.
My sweet bestie thought differently. For over a year she had sent me listings and I would barely glance at them. There was no point. No way that I could sell my house in a timely manner, make any sort of money to have enough to buy another and redo it, because any home I could afford in Boerne was basically a dump.
I didn't have a desire to take Cade and I to a dump and have to remain in that, so the obstacles were always too great, not to mention the timing. Boerne sells before things even hit the market, much less allow for sales of present homes to buy new ones.
But, for some reason, May 28th was different.
IF there was one thing about God I'd say I knew hardly anything about was grace. I'm too formulaic, black and white, and anxious.
But for the last 7 years, God has had me on a journey teaching me about grace, showing me what it is and what it means and how it works.
I saw it play out in tragedy and hardship. I saw that it was provision and faithfulness, companionship and goodness during grief and heartache and loneliness.
I saw how God walked every step with me and answered countless prayers that only my soul ached for, the kind that rebuild a person's character and mindset. He set my feet on a path that was leading me to things that only He could show me.
I'd seen His overwhelming grace during the hard but I still had no true concept what His grace was like in the good.
I mean, I had a home. Nothing was wrong with it. My life was moving along and besides bouts of loneliness, things were good...no grief, no difficulty, no present ashes that needed His gracious hands to make beautiful.
But on May 28th, His gracious train showed up and I had no idea what I was about to experience and witness, and sitting tonight, I still can't even fathom, yet alone grasp.
B sent me a text, which led to me going to see a home on a whim...2 days before leaving for Boston.
I took my dad, who, to my surprise, was chipper and excited about the house. He saw no major issues and saw great potential. And not that he's a downer about things, but he's realistic, practical, and conservative.
Big dreams get squashed by reality, practicality, which all lead to conservative decisions, not big dream ones per se.
B and I left for Boston and little did I know, the train began to move.
The property was too high for me and included too much.
My home would have to be sold, and I didn't see how I could do this on my own.
Obstacles were everywhere. That's what I saw. Obstacles.
But B kept pushing.
While in Boston, we checked out what my house would get, and by some miracle, a home 2 doors down had sold in 24 hours for a sum of money I could never have dreamed my home would sell for.
On our way back, B asked if I could have my house ready to sell in the 48 hours, and I just answered yes with no vision on what that would entail.
I came back from spending 5 non stop days in Boston with 8 middle school students, where our days are from 6 am until after midnight, and I woke up the next day at 6 again and began cleaning my house and getting it ready to go on the market.
It was ready Saturday morning and on Sunday, an offer was made.
What?!?
The train hadn't just left at this point, it was gaining speed and I was doing my best to hold on.
The offer was great but they wanted to close in 3 weeks.
Say what?!?
B, just kept talking me down from every cliff of impossible I came to.
I had 2 trips in the next 4 weeks.
But, I said yes...I knew this was a train that I had to catch.
On June 7th, I knew that this summer was not going to be what I had planned and I knew this was something God was in control of and I just needed to keep showing up because for some reason, impossible was becoming possible.
I packed, I panicked, friends talked me off cliffs, and I packed some more.
All of my trip preparations, which are incredibly time consuming and at times can be overwhelming, went along without a hitch and somehow I had enough energy to do all of that and pack.
In the meantime, a deal was trying to be put together on the purchase of the house in Boerne...one of the hottest and fastest markets around.
Obstacle after obstacle kept coming and I would panic and get discouraged but B would push me forward. Mountains that had to be moved, I got to watch be moved.
Mountains moved for the purchase of the home.
I was exhausted and weary, not just from the packing and the unknown, but from the previous months of non-stop, from the weight of traveling and busyness of planning and going forth on little sleep and no restorative time between any of it.
But the train was chugging down the track, and I knew I just needed to hold on.
I returned from Philadelphia on the 25th and I was out of my home on the 30th and leaving for Boston on the 4th.
Everyone who knows me, knows that I LOSE everything. I misplace stuff all. the. time. Ask my students. I can't keep a pen, marker, or history book for longer than 5 minutes. I will have taken it and set it down in the most obscure place and have no recollection of doing so.
I leave a trail of crud everywhere I go.
SO, to be packing and moving while having to keep extremely important travel info, journals, and paraphernalia at my finger tips is a MIRACLE in itself.
I returned from Boston homeless, waiting for mountains to move so I could close on my new home in early August.
I think we all have times like this in our lives, where things fall into place and it's a wonder how it happened, but somehow it does.
It's happened to me before, but this time, God was going to show me that grace was not just a charitable heart when things were rough and desperate.
Grace included dreams...the kind of dreams that only a heart dreamed because the mind knew that it could never happen. It was a dream that would never be, so it was never actually thought about because what would be the point.
On May 28th, God was going to show me a grace I still couldn't comprehend and one that had been in motion for years. One that would include extravagant provision, healing, and unbelievable friendship.
Let's start with B. Her tenacity and determination on my behalf can't be explained. It included 2 months
of constant attention and talks of encouragement. She talked me off so many cliffs in such a short amount of time, I'm embarrassed to even recall them all.
But she did it, with a heart of love, compassion and made me feel like a champion at the end of it, not the weary warrior barely making it over the finish line.
Then there's my little peeps who upon the return of my first Boston trip they had completely redone my
front flowerbed, pressure washed my house, cleaned my windows, and more.
I was returning with a new hope of putting my house on the market, and God used the generosity of 8 families and my peeps to bless me with a gift I could never, NEVER do for myself.
Then there's Lacy, Ashley, Tracy, Kelley, the Fitzies, Chris, Bower boys, Egg, Amy, Cindy, Jackson, Bobby, Sammy, Willy, Jim Guy, Katie, Greg, and unknowns that came and packed when I was gone, too busy, or so overwhelmed I could barely see straight.
Not because I was sick or grieving or walking a tragic road...just because I needed help, even "worse" I needed help with something that was just good and fun and a blessing.
This really bothered me. I mean accepting help when it had nothing to do with something bad or wrong...I didn't do that, I couldn't do that.
God reminded me of a conversation I'd had with someone a few months before. I was trying to help him, just trying to be nice and kind and he told me he didn't like accepting help. He did things on his own.
It made me mad when he said that. I was frustrated that he wouldn't let me help him, and I thought how far he needed to go to understand kindness and understand how God worked... that some people just like to help and be kind.
And here I was. Not wanting to accept help, not understanding how to accept help, and blown away at how people would help me in such extravagant ways for something that was good and fun and had nothing to do with cancer or death or divorce.
But, God made this train leave the station during a time in my summer that I couldn't not accept help. What was before me was impossible for me, so God was setting up a scenario that would only be possible for Him to orchestrate.
So I showed up each day, and watched Him work.
People packed, lifted heavy furniture, opened up their barns, stayed late, came early, washed clothes, talked to me when I was overwhelmed or seemingly ungrateful because I was afraid or worried or exhausted.
They prayed, lent trucks, cleaned, and encouraged, and they got me out of my house and everything into storage and put me on a plane to Boston.
God had orchestrated my trips to fall at just the right times, so the first few days of being homeless, I was traveling the streets of Boston and watching the most incredible firework show with 9 incredible people, including Cade.
Then, He had provided me with housesitting gigs the remainder of July, in fact, He provided them to go until August 3rd, right when I was to move into my new home.
His timing had included my entire summer schedule to be planned out in January, so when it came to May 28th, His train could move, according to His schedule, his timing, and His grace.
My mind couldn't even dream it, my heart couldn't even imagine it, but His grace was orchestrating it.
And if all of those mountains moving and provisions weren't enough, the train was just picking up speed.
My house sold in 48 hours, for more money than I could have dreamed, and I had paid off more than I thought.
B was so tenacious that she helped me witness mountains move in a market where only those with enormous money and no timing restrictions find deals, and then she stuck with me as I wanted to quit every other day.
But then...just when I thought I had seen what grace was, God was just getting started.
It wasn't just in the form of people showing up once more, because they did. Gretchen and Dan, Janyce and Brittany, Stacey and Tracy, Julio, and Bobby, ERIC AND KAREN, Heather, and Ashley, Adi and Dawson, Madeline and Brittan, Carsen and Cole, Greg and Summer, Papa and Carolyn, Amy and Egg, Chris and Jessica, Ronnie and Angela, and the list could go on...
They did for me, at times what I could never do for myself. I was stuck without them. I couldn't fix a fan or hang a shower head. I couldn't lift that or hang this. I was getting sick from scraping ceilings and staying up passed midnight. I couldn't paint a house or finish assembling my cabinets.
I couldn't. It was impossible. But I continued to watch the impossible happen.
But it wasn't just that. It was the overflowing, outpouring of extreme generosity that blew me away...that sealed the summer of 2015 as a moment in time I watched God work in wondrous, overwhelming, and abundant ways to show me how His grace has no limits. That it isn't about only rescuing and comforting...
it's about delighting in, blessing, and lavishing love upon you.
Even now, typing that sounds so foreign, even corny to me. How dreams come to life, is taking me aback, making walls that were so set inside of me get torn down and rearranged, and my heart is having to start grasping that life includes a joy that is delightful and fun.
I didn't really know that. That not everything has strings or consequences or hardship. Sometimes, life is just good and sweet and full of amazing grace.
In July I received a text telling me this person had an envelope for me. Cade and I drove to pick it up. Cade ran in to grab it, but the man walked out too and told me he was supposed to watch me open it. The envelope was a typical greeting card one but it was fat, like something was in it.
My heart began beating fast as I opened it and watched $100 bills fall into my lap. A stack of them fell and the card had an incredibly sweet note inside.
I was stunned. Completely and totally stunned.
Who does this? Who gives someone a stack of money?
Tears welled up and Cade and I couldn't believe what had just happened.
The man gave me a hug and told me he had just been instructed to watch me open it and see my reaction.
My reaction was one of disbelief in how God works.
As amazing as that is, what no one knew was that the night before I sat in the shower crying, telling God how lonely and overwhelmed I felt in this process, that it was too big, too great for me to making such big changes with so many unknowns, and even though I had so many people rallying around me, at the end of the day, it was me...just me, and I was in charge of Cade and I didn't know if I could do this big thing.
I sat crying to God at how I felt alone.
Then, the very next day, the most tangible, overwhelming gift of grace occurred., in a way I could not have fathomed.
Yes, the money was unbelievable, unforgettable, and a sign of immeasurable anonymous generosity, but what those people had done, had been used to do, was to allow God to tell my heart (and allow my 12 year old son to witness!) that He was here with me, that this was His train, and I was to just keep showing up...I was NOT ALONE.
After that day, I never worried much anymore.
I had seen grace in such a new way, that the impossible for man, was possible with God.
I'd just stood on "the cliff" and watched the waters part, the mountains move, and I knew to my very core, that God was taking me somewhere, I just needed to follow Him.
One of my mom's favorite verses had come to life,
"Now to Him who is able to do far more than we could ever think or imagine, to Him be the glory forever and ever."
So, dream, Dream big...or if you're like me and a little too afraid to dream, believe in a God that says, show up, and watch ME.
This season, let's show up and watch HIM.
In Him,
Shelly
It's been forever since I've written. Today, I knew it was time. In fact, I knew if I didn't today, I would've ignored an appointment I had. I have no idea what I'm supposed to write, but I know there's something God has been showing me all summer, so we'll start there and see where He takes this.
It was May 28th. I was finishing up the busiest 3 months I'd had in recent memory. I hadn't stopped going. School was incredibly busy and every weekend had something major going on so I hadn't rested or gathered myself in months.
I was headed into the busiest portion of my summer. In the subsequent 5 weeks, I was taking 3 different groups of 8 students on 3 different trips. I was headed to Boston twice and Philly once...but by July 8th, I'd be finished, I'd be able to finally rest after nearly 5 months of non stop.
My trips don't just entail the 5 days of travel, they included 4 group meetings, so times 3 is 12 group meetings, and one meeting per traveller that is one on one, so that's 24, and then a prayer gathering for each group, and due to busy schedules, a couple of trips required 2 options for that.
So, in conclusion, that's over 40 meetings from February-June...and then we travel and go have the best time in glorious cities.
I was looking forward to the trips because that's when the fun kicks in, the getaway, and the adventure, and due to such a busy spring, I was ready for the adventure.
So on May 28th, when I received a text from my traveling partner and sweet bestie about a home in Boerne, I shrugged it off as just another attempt to get me to do something that was impossible for me at this time in my life.
I'd dreamed of moving into Boerne proper for years. I'd dreamed of either having my dad design me a house or help me redo a little cottage for as long as I could remember. But it was a dream. A dream that I knew wouldn't ever be fulfilled. Ever.
There was no way it could. Barring a marriage where my small teaching salary wasn't the only funds I had to use, it was an impossible dream. And since marriage would have to bring along the provision, I never wanted to truly dream about it because I don't ever want that to be part of my search for someone...I don't want my desire for things to ever be a motivation for me to date someone...and that easily could be. Financial security is a wooing factor in my life.
SO, I didn't ever really dream about it. It was on the list of impossible things that my life wasn't going to include and I had come to the place with that being okay.
My sweet bestie thought differently. For over a year she had sent me listings and I would barely glance at them. There was no point. No way that I could sell my house in a timely manner, make any sort of money to have enough to buy another and redo it, because any home I could afford in Boerne was basically a dump.
I didn't have a desire to take Cade and I to a dump and have to remain in that, so the obstacles were always too great, not to mention the timing. Boerne sells before things even hit the market, much less allow for sales of present homes to buy new ones.
But, for some reason, May 28th was different.
IF there was one thing about God I'd say I knew hardly anything about was grace. I'm too formulaic, black and white, and anxious.
But for the last 7 years, God has had me on a journey teaching me about grace, showing me what it is and what it means and how it works.
I saw it play out in tragedy and hardship. I saw that it was provision and faithfulness, companionship and goodness during grief and heartache and loneliness.
I saw how God walked every step with me and answered countless prayers that only my soul ached for, the kind that rebuild a person's character and mindset. He set my feet on a path that was leading me to things that only He could show me.
I'd seen His overwhelming grace during the hard but I still had no true concept what His grace was like in the good.
I mean, I had a home. Nothing was wrong with it. My life was moving along and besides bouts of loneliness, things were good...no grief, no difficulty, no present ashes that needed His gracious hands to make beautiful.
But on May 28th, His gracious train showed up and I had no idea what I was about to experience and witness, and sitting tonight, I still can't even fathom, yet alone grasp.
B sent me a text, which led to me going to see a home on a whim...2 days before leaving for Boston.
I took my dad, who, to my surprise, was chipper and excited about the house. He saw no major issues and saw great potential. And not that he's a downer about things, but he's realistic, practical, and conservative.
Big dreams get squashed by reality, practicality, which all lead to conservative decisions, not big dream ones per se.
B and I left for Boston and little did I know, the train began to move.
The property was too high for me and included too much.
My home would have to be sold, and I didn't see how I could do this on my own.
Obstacles were everywhere. That's what I saw. Obstacles.
But B kept pushing.
While in Boston, we checked out what my house would get, and by some miracle, a home 2 doors down had sold in 24 hours for a sum of money I could never have dreamed my home would sell for.On our way back, B asked if I could have my house ready to sell in the 48 hours, and I just answered yes with no vision on what that would entail.
I came back from spending 5 non stop days in Boston with 8 middle school students, where our days are from 6 am until after midnight, and I woke up the next day at 6 again and began cleaning my house and getting it ready to go on the market.
It was ready Saturday morning and on Sunday, an offer was made.
What?!?
The train hadn't just left at this point, it was gaining speed and I was doing my best to hold on.
The offer was great but they wanted to close in 3 weeks.
Say what?!?
B, just kept talking me down from every cliff of impossible I came to.
I had 2 trips in the next 4 weeks.
But, I said yes...I knew this was a train that I had to catch.
On June 7th, I knew that this summer was not going to be what I had planned and I knew this was something God was in control of and I just needed to keep showing up because for some reason, impossible was becoming possible.
I packed, I panicked, friends talked me off cliffs, and I packed some more.
All of my trip preparations, which are incredibly time consuming and at times can be overwhelming, went along without a hitch and somehow I had enough energy to do all of that and pack.
In the meantime, a deal was trying to be put together on the purchase of the house in Boerne...one of the hottest and fastest markets around.
Obstacle after obstacle kept coming and I would panic and get discouraged but B would push me forward. Mountains that had to be moved, I got to watch be moved.
Mountains moved for the purchase of the home.
I was exhausted and weary, not just from the packing and the unknown, but from the previous months of non-stop, from the weight of traveling and busyness of planning and going forth on little sleep and no restorative time between any of it.
But the train was chugging down the track, and I knew I just needed to hold on.
Everyone who knows me, knows that I LOSE everything. I misplace stuff all. the. time. Ask my students. I can't keep a pen, marker, or history book for longer than 5 minutes. I will have taken it and set it down in the most obscure place and have no recollection of doing so.
I leave a trail of crud everywhere I go.
SO, to be packing and moving while having to keep extremely important travel info, journals, and paraphernalia at my finger tips is a MIRACLE in itself.
I returned from Boston homeless, waiting for mountains to move so I could close on my new home in early August.
I think we all have times like this in our lives, where things fall into place and it's a wonder how it happened, but somehow it does.
It's happened to me before, but this time, God was going to show me that grace was not just a charitable heart when things were rough and desperate.
Grace included dreams...the kind of dreams that only a heart dreamed because the mind knew that it could never happen. It was a dream that would never be, so it was never actually thought about because what would be the point.
On May 28th, God was going to show me a grace I still couldn't comprehend and one that had been in motion for years. One that would include extravagant provision, healing, and unbelievable friendship.
Let's start with B. Her tenacity and determination on my behalf can't be explained. It included 2 months
But she did it, with a heart of love, compassion and made me feel like a champion at the end of it, not the weary warrior barely making it over the finish line.
Then there's my little peeps who upon the return of my first Boston trip they had completely redone my
front flowerbed, pressure washed my house, cleaned my windows, and more.
I was returning with a new hope of putting my house on the market, and God used the generosity of 8 families and my peeps to bless me with a gift I could never, NEVER do for myself.Then there's Lacy, Ashley, Tracy, Kelley, the Fitzies, Chris, Bower boys, Egg, Amy, Cindy, Jackson, Bobby, Sammy, Willy, Jim Guy, Katie, Greg, and unknowns that came and packed when I was gone, too busy, or so overwhelmed I could barely see straight.
Not because I was sick or grieving or walking a tragic road...just because I needed help, even "worse" I needed help with something that was just good and fun and a blessing.
This really bothered me. I mean accepting help when it had nothing to do with something bad or wrong...I didn't do that, I couldn't do that.
God reminded me of a conversation I'd had with someone a few months before. I was trying to help him, just trying to be nice and kind and he told me he didn't like accepting help. He did things on his own.
It made me mad when he said that. I was frustrated that he wouldn't let me help him, and I thought how far he needed to go to understand kindness and understand how God worked... that some people just like to help and be kind.
And here I was. Not wanting to accept help, not understanding how to accept help, and blown away at how people would help me in such extravagant ways for something that was good and fun and had nothing to do with cancer or death or divorce.
But, God made this train leave the station during a time in my summer that I couldn't not accept help. What was before me was impossible for me, so God was setting up a scenario that would only be possible for Him to orchestrate.
So I showed up each day, and watched Him work.
People packed, lifted heavy furniture, opened up their barns, stayed late, came early, washed clothes, talked to me when I was overwhelmed or seemingly ungrateful because I was afraid or worried or exhausted.
They prayed, lent trucks, cleaned, and encouraged, and they got me out of my house and everything into storage and put me on a plane to Boston.
God had orchestrated my trips to fall at just the right times, so the first few days of being homeless, I was traveling the streets of Boston and watching the most incredible firework show with 9 incredible people, including Cade.
Then, He had provided me with housesitting gigs the remainder of July, in fact, He provided them to go until August 3rd, right when I was to move into my new home.
His timing had included my entire summer schedule to be planned out in January, so when it came to May 28th, His train could move, according to His schedule, his timing, and His grace.
My mind couldn't even dream it, my heart couldn't even imagine it, but His grace was orchestrating it.
And if all of those mountains moving and provisions weren't enough, the train was just picking up speed.
My house sold in 48 hours, for more money than I could have dreamed, and I had paid off more than I thought.
B was so tenacious that she helped me witness mountains move in a market where only those with enormous money and no timing restrictions find deals, and then she stuck with me as I wanted to quit every other day.
But then...just when I thought I had seen what grace was, God was just getting started.
It wasn't just in the form of people showing up once more, because they did. Gretchen and Dan, Janyce and Brittany, Stacey and Tracy, Julio, and Bobby, ERIC AND KAREN, Heather, and Ashley, Adi and Dawson, Madeline and Brittan, Carsen and Cole, Greg and Summer, Papa and Carolyn, Amy and Egg, Chris and Jessica, Ronnie and Angela, and the list could go on...
They did for me, at times what I could never do for myself. I was stuck without them. I couldn't fix a fan or hang a shower head. I couldn't lift that or hang this. I was getting sick from scraping ceilings and staying up passed midnight. I couldn't paint a house or finish assembling my cabinets.
I couldn't. It was impossible. But I continued to watch the impossible happen.
But it wasn't just that. It was the overflowing, outpouring of extreme generosity that blew me away...that sealed the summer of 2015 as a moment in time I watched God work in wondrous, overwhelming, and abundant ways to show me how His grace has no limits. That it isn't about only rescuing and comforting...it's about delighting in, blessing, and lavishing love upon you.
Even now, typing that sounds so foreign, even corny to me. How dreams come to life, is taking me aback, making walls that were so set inside of me get torn down and rearranged, and my heart is having to start grasping that life includes a joy that is delightful and fun.
I didn't really know that. That not everything has strings or consequences or hardship. Sometimes, life is just good and sweet and full of amazing grace.
In July I received a text telling me this person had an envelope for me. Cade and I drove to pick it up. Cade ran in to grab it, but the man walked out too and told me he was supposed to watch me open it. The envelope was a typical greeting card one but it was fat, like something was in it.
My heart began beating fast as I opened it and watched $100 bills fall into my lap. A stack of them fell and the card had an incredibly sweet note inside.
I was stunned. Completely and totally stunned.
Who does this? Who gives someone a stack of money?
Tears welled up and Cade and I couldn't believe what had just happened.
The man gave me a hug and told me he had just been instructed to watch me open it and see my reaction.
As amazing as that is, what no one knew was that the night before I sat in the shower crying, telling God how lonely and overwhelmed I felt in this process, that it was too big, too great for me to making such big changes with so many unknowns, and even though I had so many people rallying around me, at the end of the day, it was me...just me, and I was in charge of Cade and I didn't know if I could do this big thing.
I sat crying to God at how I felt alone.
Then, the very next day, the most tangible, overwhelming gift of grace occurred., in a way I could not have fathomed.
Yes, the money was unbelievable, unforgettable, and a sign of immeasurable anonymous generosity, but what those people had done, had been used to do, was to allow God to tell my heart (and allow my 12 year old son to witness!) that He was here with me, that this was His train, and I was to just keep showing up...I was NOT ALONE.
After that day, I never worried much anymore.I had seen grace in such a new way, that the impossible for man, was possible with God.
I'd just stood on "the cliff" and watched the waters part, the mountains move, and I knew to my very core, that God was taking me somewhere, I just needed to follow Him.
One of my mom's favorite verses had come to life,
"Now to Him who is able to do far more than we could ever think or imagine, to Him be the glory forever and ever."
So, dream, Dream big...or if you're like me and a little too afraid to dream, believe in a God that says, show up, and watch ME.
This season, let's show up and watch HIM.
In Him,
Shelly
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