A Time To...

Last week, I found myself smack in the middle of two very extreme realities that we mere humans have a hard time even beginning to wrap our head around.

Life and Death.
Creation and End.
Hope and Despair.
Joy and Mourning.

Experiencing all of these in less than an hour was brutally overwhelming, yet refreshingly raw.
Just real.

My uncle battled a tough fight with multiple myleoma. We all watched as he so slowly, then suddenly much more rapidly, died before our eyes over the last couple of years.

As my husband and I had an unavoidable spectator's seat in this, we were nudged to discuss big realities in our own lives, in our family dynamic, in humanity itself; we were able to mourn while living.

But even with the somewhat blessing of being prepared for this personal tragedy, we still weren't.

With a coffin in front of us, it still hit hard as I watched my aunt crying over her best friend, my teenage cousin casually conversating with his dad. Saying final goodbyes.

We weep when we see a loved one lifeless, like Jesus Himself did when he saw his friend Lazarus. They're right here with us, but not here.

We weep also when we see a baby on a screen full of life. They're not yet here with us, but so very here.


We had to schedule an ultrasound a month in advance. You know, the big one. Full bladder. Gender revealed. Hours on a table. Goo on top of goo. After going back and forth, we decided to keep the appointment. Straight from the cemetary, my husband and I drove directly to the doctor's office, with just minutes to spare.

Him in a dark suit, me a black maternity dress, pearls, mascara smeared. We entered the dark room and made small talk with the smiley technician. I lift up my layers of black and got ready for the familar. But this, though familar, never gets old.

The vivid pumping of the heartbeat, the little toes, the exaggerated squirms, the perfect lips, the nose.

"There's the baby's legs right there and it looks like..."
"A girl," I answered myself, an all-knowing veteran at this point.
My husband in shock and awe, still and again. Me with tears streaming quietly down my cheeks.

The same tears from just an hour earlier, but not. More like tears to wash away tears.

Life in the midst of death. A new creation in the midst of an end. So much hope in the midst of despair. True joy in the midst of mourning.

Really, what Christ offers us all.


At the funeral mass, my brother went to the altar and read these ancient, holy words:

"There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

 a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,     

 a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,    

 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,  

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, 

 a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,    

 a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,      

a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace."

-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

When those times above are juxtaposed so closely in life that they overlap seasons, moments really, our humanity itself can overwhelm us. 

But to have a God who is sovereign over it all is all. Everything in everything.

~~~

To donate in memory of my uncle and in honor of my cousin's future, please click below:

Joe Jr. Fund

World's Best Boss

Baileigh is my little watchguard. She may be more on top of what Doug and I are up to than we are of her. I'm nervous this may translate into the playground tattletale in school next year, but for now she keeps watch on Mom and Dad with daily comments like:

"Guys, is this commercial appropriate?"

"Dad's been a bad example to you and now you're a bad example to Dougie. Stop drinking out of the container, Mom!"

(after catching me tap my hubby with a spatula as he walked by) "Mom, that's not for using with Daddy, only with pancakes!"

The name Baileigh (or Bailey) actually stems from the word "bailiff" which means a person who keeps order. Yep, that's her.

But honestly, she's the closest thing I have to a boss during the day. She's the one evaluating my work, demanding quickness and completion. I can laugh it off, and actually, I've always enjoyed having someone assess my work, so becoming a stay-at-home mom was originally a struggle for me, mainly for the fact that there was no A+ or red pen on my work that day. I can handle a 4-year-old as my watchdog, but I need to remember my Master is someone much greater.  

I'm looking to tattoo my toilet tank and stain my dish-washing window with the verse: "Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people." (Colossians 3:23).

So even if I did have a boss in this phase of life, my work and my day-to-day duties should be done as if Jesus himself was my superior. When I scrub a toilet til it's squeaky clean and someone comes in minutes later with an explosive episode... Breathe, it's alright, I'm working for the Lord, not for people. When my husband jokes that he never sees the kitchen sink empty, yet it's actually vacant 75 percent of the day (I'm tempted to send him daily pictures!) It's cool. I'm working for the Lord, He knows.

There are some days when I'm so filled with this truth and wake up excited to work for my Boss. But honestly, there are many other days where I ask, why the heck I am doing this again? It's gonna go unnoticed, what's the point. But that's not true. I want the truth. I want to work at everything I do with all my heart, like I am employed by the Lord. I want to gladly serve my Lord.

Similarly in 1 Peter 1:14-16, I'm reminded how to live and work.

"So you must live as God’s obedient children. Don’t slip back into your old ways of living to satisfy your own desires. You didn’t know any better then.  But now you must be holy in everything you do, just as God who chose you is holy. For the Scriptures say, “You must be holy because I am holy.”

What is it that you want to give up on when no one's watching? What selfish, old way of living could you slip right back into? Laziness? Drunkeness? Fill in the blank. Maybe you didn't know any better then, that's my excuse and it's biblically justisfied! But not anymore, now I am called to live as God's obedient child. Because God is my Master, I must strive to work like my Boss. Because He is holy, I must strive to be holy. Because I know better now, I must not slip back into my own selfish ways. 

Whether you have a boss or not, work for the Lord above all else. Not because you have to impress Him, but because you absolutely want to. Reverently. Joyfully. Willingly. With all your heart. 

the Perfect bag

This past summer I was asked to teach dance at a Christian sports camp. Right up my alley, I thought. No problem. I choreographed a fun jazz dance to a praise song, refreshed myself with a little technique, and gathered up some music. Easy. Then I realized I'd also have to be talking to these mostly 8-11 year-old girls about Jesus. Man, I thought, what if someone had talked to me about Jesus during those years, how different my life might have been! What hurt my heart might have been saved from. I would have heard about love in a whole different light - a love that wasn't interested in make-up or mini skirts, but a Love that already was in place and could replace all of that! Instead though, that age was a turning point  in the wrong direction for me. I'm able to look back now and be grateful for my past, with all its hurt and struggle, but only because it eventually  led to perseverance, character, and hope for me (Romans 5:3-5). Yet at the same time, I couldn't help but to think about the impact Jesus could make on these young girls at this crucial time.

Mine happens to be a diaper bag  :)

So one of the days at camp we were to discuss with our groups the importance of Jesus in our individual lives. How could I explain this in a way that young, impressionable girls might be able to relate to? I didn't want to give them the details of my personal story - too much for a little girl to handle. I could just imagine the phone calls of parents coming in the next day LOL. But as I was packing my bag that day, a perfect teeny-bopper-sized analogy of my testimony came to mind. Even now, it's a perfect reminder for myself every time I pack my purse.



I told the girls that I was first introduced to Jesus right after turning 14. At that time, I was a busy young woman. Dance, school, plays, more dance, friends, boys, and dance filled my schedule. I told them to imagine their favorite purse. And if life was this adorable bag, then I had all of my interests and activities already thrown into my big bag of life at age 14. So when I heard about Jesus, and liked it, and started going to church, I simply threw Him and church in my bag with everything else that was already in there. He was in there definitely, I said, but sometimes I couldn't get to Him with all the other stuff on top. He definitely got a little smooshed by all those activities, especially the Sunday rehearsals, and sometimes was close to being crushed altogether by the friends, parties, and boys that were overflowing from my bag.

The girls got this! We passed an empty tote around and they each shared all the stuff that fills their cute, little girl, "life bags." They laughed and smiled. But then I told them that as I got older and experienced some challenging things, I realized that Jesus can't just be thrown into our bags like all our other interests and activities. Jesus needs to BE THE BAG - the Protector, the Vessel, the Life. HE holds all of it in place and we need to trust Him to carry it all. Everything in our lives needs to find it's place in this Perfect purse we're given. But also, sometimes a girl has just gotta clean out her stuff! Get rid of the junk, so that she can use and appreciate her beautiful Bag.

1 Corinthians chapter 8 verse 6 reminds us: "yet for us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live." And so we choose Him and trust Him to carry all of our stuff - in every outfit, in every season, every day - our Perfect bag.

It made sense to a bunch of little girls, and again to me this morning. Maybe it did for you too and every time you grab your bag on your way out-the-door, you can remember who's really holding it all together :)