On Bravery

"You make me brave. You make me brave. You call me out beyond the shore into the waves."

I was listening to this song on and off throughout the week at work, and it wasn't until yesterday that the thought struck me...what do I consider being brave? Listening to this song conjures images of radical acts of selflessness and courage in my mind - overseas missions, innercity missions, standing for the truth and facing real persecution. But what does being brave mean to me in my every day life?

Is it brave to love, support, and submit to my husband when we can't reach an agreement?

Is it brave to offer tea and a place to cry to a friend who has been hurt?

Is it brave to honor those in authority over me?

Is it brave to offer my best work each day at my 8-5 desk job?

Is it brave to love well?

Is it brave to act in obedience, even when I'm bitterly disappointed by giving something up?

Is it brave to raise a family and teach them to love Jesus and to obey His Word?

Is it brave to tithe faithfully?

Is it brave to persevere when I feel taken for granted?

Personally, I see great bravery in people in my life on a daily basis. Consistent, quiet, faithful bravery. I see bravery lived out without calling attention to itself. I see bravery lived out as people choose an intentional life in the face of a world that applauds the easy superficiality. I see my siblings choosing to be parents rather than buddies to their kids. I see my father choosing to work long hours with excellence and integrity. I see my mother choosing to speak hard truths with much love. I see my husband humbly acknowledging when he is wrong, and being willing to grow and change. I see my friends standing for truth in small things that seem easier to compromise. I see fierce love for the orphans, the widows, the outcast, the slandered, the wronged, the forgotten. I see great bravery all around me, most of it stemming from obedience to the One who calls us to live a life that is radically different from the world around us.

Life Lessons from Trudy: Hospitality

Ryan and I had the immense pleasure of hosting some good friends from Illinois as they passed through Laramie on their way to climb Devils Tower. We had six road-weary and stoke-heavy climbers in our apartment, and I couldn't have been happier about it. 

Chess, vinyl, and 007 on N64. Life is very good.

I love hosting people. I love having people over, making food, and planning adventures. Heck, I even love cleaning the apartment before people get there. (Seriously. Ask Ryan.) I love creating a space for people to rest in. It's a way in which I can care for people, and I love to love people. More and more, I find that I like to host people because I feel like Ryan and I have been given so much, and I want to give back.

I have always been tongue-in-cheek when I've said that one of my mother's primary spiritual gifts is hospitality. But now that I have my own space within which to create a home, I'm not so sure it's as flippant of a statement as I initially thought. All growing up I remember Trudy effortlessly, gracefully, and warmly inviting people into home. It was our home, but it was also home for anyone and everyone who needed a home. Sure, there was often a lot of work involved in preparing a place for people, but she found joy in that as simply another part of caring for people. It wasn't a chore for her to stay up late the night before Thanksgiving to make sure that there was enough food for all of the college students who couldn't travel home for the holiday; it was a lot of work, but it was never a chore. Trudy cared for people so much that it was a privilege for her to get to serve them, no matter the cost to herself. And she never, ever made others feel the weight of the work to prepare for their arrival. She never pressured people to enjoy themselves at the risk of offending her. She simply created a place for people, and invited them in to be themselves.

At it's heart, hospitality isn't about having the right pillows or towels or decor. It's not about having the house sparkling clean and neatly organized. It's not about showing off Suzie Homemaker skills. Hospitality is about caring for people. It's a privilege and an act of worship, because I truly believe that God is glorified when we love and care for others.

So, Trudy...thank you for setting that Godly example growing up. Thank you for the way you taught me to love people. Thank you for teaching me to share what I have, even when it doesn't feel like much. Thank you for teaching me how to delight in the details of serving people. Thank you for showing me that serving people is a privilege and a joy. Thank you for teaching me that hospitality is more about what people feel than what they see. Thank you for the way you love people as an act of worship and thanksgiving to God. I am thankful for you, and I am doing my best to do what you taught me!

On Joy

This draft has been sitting on my heart for a few weeks. It's vulnerable for me to write about hard things, and it's easy for me to worry over who this might be forwarded on to. But hard things are real, and real things can lead to deep lessons, and deep lessons are worth sharing. Right? So, here's my heart.

The past few weeks I've been thinking quite a bit about Joy. I'll admit that this season of life for me has been discouraging. I've been feeling tired, discouraged, accused, distrusted, burdened, and weary. I'm so weary. I think only recently I've realized how worn down I've become. But in the midst of this heaviness, I'm grateful for moments of refreshment and restoration. I've felt rebuilt and restored as I've gotten to meet up with old friends and new family. I've had sweet times on sunny porches that wind up with confessions of hurt that lead to healing tears. I've been able to laugh from my toes while sharing salsa and seltzer with dear women in my life here. I've glowed with the feeling of being so loved with kisses on the temple for no reason whatsoever. I've been reminded of the beauty of autumn colors: deep, rich, muted golds and greens and maroons. I've felt at peace in the wilderness, and I've been reminded of the ways God speaks to me there. I've been reminded of how much I love writing and reading words. I've snuggled up with old and new friends with s'mores around a fire. I've been working on engaging in spontaneous time with friends, and been surprised by how easy it can be to enjoy moments that aren't scheduled (this is big for me). I've become more and more grateful for my husband and the patient love he shows me each day. I milked a goat. (See? Spontaneity.) I've learned new games and been reminded of old favorites. I've taken small risks and have received sweet joys.


I've been so hungry for community, but hesitant to seek it for a lot of different reasons. There are large parts of my heart that are still sore from recent experiences, and the temptation is to let those parts harden. And, if I'm honest with myself, I can see that I've let those parts harden to some measure because I've given up on community for the past few months. I haven't been seeking community, and I've been slowly hardening the parts of my heart that have been hurt. Not in an antagonistic, angry, or bitter way, but definitely in a defensive measure to protect my heart. 

But even as I try to close myself off, God is rescuing me from myself and from these reclusive tendencies. He's been sending me reminders of joy and healing my perspective of community through...community. There is something so deeply necessary about friendship without an agenda. I am being reminded of how to participate in relationship without looking for or assuming an agenda in the other person, and I'm finding such healing and joy in the process. I've said before that we experience celebration to the degree that we experience grief, and I'm learning how applicable that core thought is across relationships as well: I can only heal to the degree that I am vulnerable, as hard as that vulnerability might feel after being hurt. The sweetness of Joy is so strengthening in heavy times, but I can only experience the joy of community to the degree that I'm willing to be vulnerable. 

I am still very much in the process of learning these lessons, and of being able to (or willing to) articulate them to others. But I think they're worth looking into.

On Valentines

Remember back in elementary school when you would bring in enough Valentines treats for everyone in your class, and everyone got candy taped to red cards with your name scrawled in purple or pink crayon? I think we should bring those days back. Those were great times...especially because the most common candies to distribute were Reese's, and Reese's are delicious.

I did some brief research on St. Valentine (VERY brief...as in I looked him up on Wikipedia and crossed my fingers hoping that it hadn't been 'revised' past all truth) and found an interesting note. According to Wikipedia, "the name "Valentine" derived from valens (worthy, strong, powerful)." (Full disclosure: I did do some minor punctuation edits to that quote.)

"Worthy, strong, powerful." I like that a heck of a lot better than the images usually conjured by Valentine's Day...images of pinks and reds and fuzzy baby animals blushing and blowing kisses to one another. (Not that those things are inherently bad, they're just not my thing.) "Worthy," "strong," and "powerful" are all words that I want to characterize my life and my love.

How do we love worthily? What does it mean to have a strong, powerful love? What does it mean to love like Jesus did? (I don't know, which is why I'm asking.)

I have been finding that love looks differently each time; that each person, each situation, each season needs a different expression of love than the last. Love focuses on the need at present, even if that need isn't immediately apparent. Thus, there is no one answer to the question of how to love in a manner that is worthy, strong, and powerful; in order for love to be worthy, strong, and powerful, it must be focused on the Loved rather than on the Lover's desire to love the 'right' way.

I want to live a life of worthy, strong, powerful love. But the only true Source of that kind of love that I can find is in Jesus. The only way I can hope to live that kind of love is by first and foremost receiving that love anew each day (each moment of each day), and through loving Jesus by loving those He loves. 

So, in this season of life, as I fondly remember pre-printed, perforated cardstock, glossy Valentine's cards, please know that I am thinking of all of you. I have a deep love you all of you that is sourced by the One who is Love. He loves you so much more than a Valentine could ever communicate, because He loves you more truly, worthily, strongly, and powerfully than we can ever imagine. And we are invited on a journey to explore that love, and share that love with each person in front of us. 

May we live and love in a manner that truly reflects that kind of love.

Seasons of Transitions

I am a creature of habit.  I like routine, I like consistency, I'm comfortable with predictability.  Don't get me wrong, I like spontaneity!  But I want to know when it's going to happen and how much emotional energy it's going to occupy.  What can I say?  I'm my father's daughter.

I think sometimes I trick myself into thinking that the rest of the world stays mostly static, and it throws me off when I realize that it's not just the seasons that change with time.  People grow and change as much as (and more than!) the leaves on the trees or weather patterns.  If we didn't, I'd still have to stand on a chair in order to reach the kitchen table.

Moving from one season of life to the next always means saying goodbyes of some sort.  In growing up we have to say goodbye to the way of life that we once knew.  We have to say goodbye to familiar ways of relating to those around us, because saying goodbye to old relational dynamics allows those relationships to grow and change and mature.  If those dynamics didn't ever change, I would still see my parents only as authority figures and I would be missing out on the rich friendship I get to enjoy with them now!

When I moved to Wyoming, I had to say goodbye to all of the familiarity that I knew at home and embrace a lot of change in every sphere of life.  Even in relationships that were (and are) still present and thriving in my life, I had to embrace change in regards to what those relationships look like.  

Our relationship with God is as dynamic and changing as our relationships with one another.  He never changes, but He does bring us into deeper understandings of His love for us and His plans for us.  The ways I relate to God now are much deeper and richer now than they were in junior high, high school, or college.  I pray that my relationship with God would continue to deepen, and that 20 years from now I would look back on this time and see exponential growth!  How can I experience that growth and change if I cling more tightly to the familiar patterns than I do to Him?  My tendency is to trust the familiar, and be wary of the new.  But if I never trust new ways of knowing God, how can I step out in faith and see His hand move in my life?  (This is something I am very much still processing!)

In each new season of change, I've learned to trust that God will provide for me.  I think it's much easier for me to trust God's provision in tangible ways than it is to trust Him in regards to my relationship with Him.  (I recognize how backwards this is.)  Seeing His hand in the one should lead me to greater trust in the other...and I think that's what's happening in this season of life.

Lord, give me the grace to trust You and trust the ways that You are leading me closer to Your heart.  Guard me from a false perspective or understanding of You.  Guard me from trusting the familiar more than I trust You.  Thank You for Your patience with me!!

Lessons Learned in the Van

I've always loved road trips.  I love packing the car to best utilize every square inch of space.  I love putting together a snack box to treat myself to fresh fruit or veggies halfway down the road.  I even love the crappy gas station coffee as I watch the sun rise over the highway after driving for 3 hours.  I love making long playlists for different moods of the road:  mellow for the very beginning of the trip, but building quickly into golden classic rock songs to belt out as the highway stretches on to the horizon.  Or maybe I'm the only one who does that...that's okay too.

This past weekend, I got to drive down to El Paso with my church.  28 of us from our church piled into SROM's 2 new (used) 15-passenger vans early last week and started the 14-hour drive down south.  It reminded me a bit of the many hours I spent in similar vans on youth group trips in high school!  It was a great opportunity to get to connect with people in my church that I previously hadn't had a chance to get to know very well.  (It's amazing how quickly you can get to know people when you're crammed in the back seat together fighting the beginnings of feeling carsick.)

We arrived in Texas around 7:30pm on Thursday night and were warmly greeted by our church family in El Paso.  As exhausted as we were from the road trip, it was such a joy to connect and mingle with brothers and sisters in El Paso, from Kansas City, and from Fort Collins.  Even now as I reflect on it, our church family network is pretty amazing!  Ray, the pastor in El Paso, stood up to welcome us, orient us on the building we were staying in, and give us a basic schedule for the weekend (a very basic and very flexible schedule).  

Our Laramie church family had planned on going to Juarez to work with a children's ministry on Friday afternoon, which gave us time to solidify plans on Friday morning.  We also had an amazing time of prayer and worship on the roof of the school building!  It was amazing to get to look over the city of El Paso, and then turn and look over the border to Juarez.  We prayed for our time there and for the ministries on both sides of the Rio.  Piling again into our trusty vans, we crossed quickly over into Mexico and jumped in to help with the kids.  

I've done children's ministry in Hispanic cultures before, and every time I deeply wish I could speak Spanish!  But I'm also reminded of the love language of kids: playing.  We set up different games for the kids, had a puppet show, and painted faces, all with the heart to just love on the kids as much as we could!  I got to work at the face painting table, and quickly memorized the three most popular requests:  mariposa (butterfly), estrella (star), and corazón (heart).  As the afternoon passed, I slowly started remembering little bits and pieces of the Spanish I've collected from past trips...and it's amazing how quickly I forget them again!  

Saturday we split up and worked at two food distributions that the church in El Paso runs.  We spent the first two hours packing food into plastic bags for people to pick up as they came through.  The actual distribution is open from 10-12 the first Saturday of every month, and serves about 300 people at each location every month.  Along with caring for the physical needs of providing food, the church also offers to pray for each person that comes through.  Many smile, thank us for the food, and decline prayer.  But there are several who came through who eagerly accepted prayer.  Ray coached us to not fall into the trap of simply praying for their immediate situation (for a sickness, for provision of a job, for the healing of a family member).  He reminded us that the greatest thing we can offer them is Jesus, and it is Jesus who works all things (including immediate challenges and trials) together for His glory and His kingdom.

As we were packing the food, I kept thinking about Mary and Martha preparing for Jesus and his disciples.  I am a Martha by nature...I'm most comfortable being busy and packing the food and getting things done.  It's much harder for me to be Mary and to be content to simply sit at Jesus' feet and love as he loved:  without a schedule.  Once we were done packing and the people started coming in for the food distribution, there wasn't much for me to do other than smile and welcome them, and thank them for coming.  The entire time, my internal thoughts were running along the lines of "Is this really the best use of my time?  Aren't there other projects I could be working on?  What else can I be doing?"  But Jesus doesn't call us to always be doing.  He calls us to love the person in front of us.  And loving people means stopping myself from seeing people as another project to add to our missions trip to justify the long drive and the expense, and to look them in the eye and love them as Jesus loved them.  Without agenda, without impatience, without busyness.

Spending 14+ hours each way in a van provides ample time for reflection (another thing that I love about road trips).  As we were driving back on Sunday, I thought about what my agenda had been for the weekend, and what ended up being God's agenda.  The leadership in my church had much less of a project mentality, and much more of a person mentality.  We went to El Paso to connect with our church family and to support them in their ministry.  We didn't go so we could leave feeling like we had accomplished some sort of project; we didn't go because the church in El Paso needed us for any project of labor.  We went because they are our family, and we love them.

Staying positive in negative temperatures

Winter has finally truly arrived in Laramie.  We had our first big snowstorm earlier this week, and got around 6 inches of snow overnight.  Cleaning off my car was relatively quick because the negative temperatures turned the snow into light powder that brushed off easily!  You've got to celebrate the small victories.

Getting to go home for Thanksgiving was a rich and wonderful time.  There's nothing quite like having your three-year-old niece run up to you, throw her arms around you and say "I missed you while you were in Why-yo-ming!"  The weekend was full of time with family and loved ones, and it made me finally understand all of the sappy sentimental gooeyness that surrounds the holidays.  Being 1,000 miles away from family during this time of year is hard!  But it definitely makes me cherish the time I do get to spend with them so much more.  Plus, there's nothing quite like the annual gingerbread house decorating contest, rife with good-natured sarcasm and taunting.  When all was said and done, I think we created some pretty darn good houses.

 The warzone.

 The finished products!

The first and second place entries

 The third and fourth place entries

Though there is still a lot left to December, our year-end deadlines are closing in at SROM.  We have a winter camping trip the 15-20th, and I'll be taking a Wilderness First Responder course the 14-22nd.  Most of us are leaving for Christmas around the 23rd, so we really only have this week and next week to get everything done before the break!  Please be praying for continued energy, clarity, and focus as we try to stay on task these next few weeks.  And please be praying for this course that we're running in December; pray for the students, pray for the instructors, and pray that everyone stays warm enough while they're in the field!

Blessings to all, especially around the holidays!