Not. Okay.

I'm 29. Single. I live a fairly independent life, and I feel confident enough where it hasn't stopped me from traveling to new places and cities unaccompanied, Even so, I prepare myself for battle every time I go somewhere alone.

I used to dial 911 and keep my finger poised on the green "send" button. Now I have a phone app that tracks my GPS and will send my location to the police for an immediate response if I let go of my finger on my phone. I am angry I have to even have that app, an app I pay a monthly fee for.

I recently was walking a few short blocks to where I parked my car. Along the way, a man asked me if I knew if he was at the right bus stop and when the next bus would be coming. I took the time to look it up. He then asked me if I was single. I told him I was, but wasn't looking for anything. He said "it doesn't have to be anything, just something fun." I walked away. I am angry that just stopping to be helpful meant he could suggest sex.

When I was 13, I wore a baseball style shirt with the number 69 on it. I didn't know what that referenced. People in my grade did. I got made fun of. I never wore the shirt again.

I am scared to go for a walk or running around my safe neighborhood at dark. I still do it, but I try to be prepared. I am angry that I have to be scared, worried, and always prepared.

When I was 16, I was asked by a guy in my grade if I wanted to have sex with him. I told him no. He asked me why not? I told him because I didn't want to. I'm thankful it stopped there. That same year my prom date made it very obvious he was angry I wouldn't have sex with him that night. I am angry that at 16, sex is demanded from girls like good service at a five star restaurant.

I once wanted to see a favorite indie artist perform. She never tours, so this one time was basically it. She was playing at a bar in a not so great area of St. Paul. I was determined to go, but practically no one was available to go with me, and I didn't want to go to a bar alone. (Thankfully, my friend Flip joined me.) I am angry I was worried about going alone to a bar to see a favorite artist.
A former employer's wife sent her husband a "singing telegram" for my boss' birthday during our staff lunch. The telegram was a slutty nurse who gave him a lap dance and blew up penis balloons..and deflated them. They laughed. I left. I was angry that I felt awkward, and that I had to leave that behavior at a workplace.

I gave away my keychain alarm that screams with the pitch of a soprano and the loudness of a 747 jet to my sister, who is in college. I am probably the MOST ANGRY angry that I have to worry about HER safety.

I am grateful to guys like my old roommate's Navy-man husband, who taught me how I could defend myself if I were attacked. I am angry I should have to ask him in the first place. One of my old roommates brought home a young man she had been mentoring that was recently released from jail because he had "nowhere else to go," even though he was choosing not to live at the halfway house. I felt unsafe in my own home. She chose to ignore that and was angry to think that I felt unsafe. My other roommate sided with her. I felt unprotected, angry and betrayed. I left. I then moved out the next week.

I have been catcalled at from boys in trucks. I am angry because I know they only are young boys being taught that it's funny.

I shared the same name as a supermodel, and was tagged in MANY explicit photos of her on instagram. And if you read their comments talking about her, you'd be disgusted. I was angry because I saw the filthy way men talk about women. Even if she was a model. (And that model? She was invited and attended the White House Corespondents Dinner. That made me jealous. And angry.)

I have been told I was pregnant by a doctor when I knew that wasn't possible. The doctor didn't believe me. "Immaculate conceptions are pretty rare," he said. He then strongly suggested that if I didn't remember getting pregnant, I must've been raped. I spent the next half hour in uncontrollable shakes thinking "What if this is true?" and if it was, "What was I going to do?" I am angry that was even a possibility, but I'm MOST angry for the thousands of women who have choices like this to face. I'm glad mine wasn't real.

I am lucky I haven't even experienced half of these situations in the article. But I'm angry that things like this exist.

#ItsNotOkay #notokay #sexualassault #donaldtrump

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Dutch Blitz, Coffee and Friendships.

A cup of peach tea steamed from the mug that warmed my hands as I sat at my dining room table. Across from me sat a dear of mine whom I've known since kindergarten. I don't have many of these friends I still talk to, but she was one that stuck.
We'd spent the majority of our teenage years through young adulthood in separate states, and for the first time in a long while, we were now living in the same state again... practically even the same city.
We sat there talking about how our lives had brought us so far apart from each other at times, yet now we were both living within 10 miles of each other. She moved back to the state after graduating college 4 years ago and I had just moved back from a 2-year stint in Southern California. As we were catching up on each other's lives, she asked a question I was frequently asked:
"How are you doing with the move back to Minnesota?"
Usually I just brushed off the question with a "It's taking some getting used to again, but it's where I know I'm supposed to be." Which really is the truth. But every time I said that, I cringed at the hidden truth I wasn't telling anyone.

But I was tired of hiding that truth. So I looked at her and said,
"Honestly? I'm lonely. I have pockets of friends I see when I have the time, but I feel like I have no friend group, no community that I can count on."

There it was. My big fat lie I wasn't telling anyone.

I was lonely. And I wasn't the only one. 

"I've lived here for 4 years and I still feel like I don't have a friend group," she replied.

"Really?" I asked, shocked.
"Yeah. I mean, I had my roommates, now two of whom have gotten married. I have my roommate now and my boyfriend. But I still don't feel like I have a community."


Here we are, living in a city of half a million people, with its sister city and suburbs offering up half a million more, yet she's lived here for FOUR YEARS and still doesn't have a sense of community?
And here I was, someone who actually had a past in this city. I still had friends I remained in contact with. Yet when I thought about it, only a small handful I now make it a point to see on a regular basis and an even smaller handful I feel comfortable telling them my heart.

Fast forward another couple weeks and a few more conversations with other friends.
I heard the same thing. Over. And Over.

And I kept thinking: "How can this be? We're living in a city of a million people. Yet none of us feel a part of something, a part of a true group of friends that do life together?"

We think we have friendships, but we don't. 
There is a difference between friends and friendships. We all know those friends in our lives. The ones that we like and if we actually made it a point to spend time with them, we probably would really like them. But because of time, geographical differences, and maybe the chasm created by time apart, they're the friends you see every once in a while, and that's really ok. Then you have people like your roommates, who you are probably either really close with or not close with at all.

A friendship is a true relationship that takes work.

It takes the bearing of souls, the forgiving of mistakes, the time (we could be binge-watching Netflix) we are so protective of, and the caring for each other by simultaneously encouraging and pushing each other towards something greater.

Those are the relationships I craved so desperately. A community of friends that makes it a point to not only just spend time with you and work to get to know you, but to see to it that you're becoming the best you can be, even when you don't want it.

And that work isn't easy. But you know what?

It's addicting.

Really, truly, honestly, it wasn't until I had found that group of friends who pushed me to better myself in every way and love me through it that I realized how much I needed it. After leaving that group of friends behind in California, I craved having those partners in life who pushed me beyond the small-talk topics, pushed me to be healthier, pushed me to work harder and came along side of me through the nitty gritty of life.

Building a community takes time and effort.

After thinking through these conversations I'd had with my friends about missing a community, I realized I couldn't sit back and complain about the struggles of my lack of true friendships. I needed to act, I needed to create, I needed to build. I kept thinking of the quote from Field of Dreams, "If you build it, they will come."

And so I began talking to my friends. What would it take for them to build a community with me?
A few decided not to participate, basically because of geographical and scheduling reasons. But they all supported the idea and wanted to start their own community night. 

So I ended up with a group of 3 friends that have committed to starting building a community with me every Tuesday night.  Then the question was begged, what was I going to do? And I realized I had the answer back in California: game night at a coffee shop. Every Wednesday night was game night at Starbucks. It was just always there. We all knew we'd be there, we all knew that's what we'd be doing. Oh sure, there were times we each couldn't be there, sometimes a few weeks would pass before we could return. And some left our group, but we always somehow found more by accident. And this was the way we started our friendships, the place we grew our relationships and laughed, talked, and grew our community.

So here it goes! An open invite to anyone who wants to join!


What are we doing?It's simple: We are playing games at a favorite local coffeshop, Spyhouse NE, every Tuesday night from 8-11 pm.
Why Spyhouse?
People can come and go as they please. It's a pressure-free area for newbies to come join us. And it gives us a public space which allows us to be visible and inviting for anyone who sees and wishes to join in!
Why at all?

My main purpose in starting game night is to create a community where people can come and get to know one another in a fun atmosphere. My ultimate goal is that those friendships that we create around the table will grow into the deep friendships that I mentioned above. Game night is a vehicle for that to happen. 

And at the end of the day, if nobody shows up, I'm in a coffee shop for a few hours working on projects. Not so bad for me.

Is it going to take work? yes. Am I going to have weeks where I wish I didn't have to show up? Yes. (But I'll be there!) Is it worth it to see God hopefully take this and build this into a community of true friendships? Yes.

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A Conversation with God on Trust

Imagine with me a hypothetical conversation between me and my dear Father, Jesus Christ. 

God: "So you want a husband and 2.5 kids... soon? Perhaps a lake cabin and a boat later on. And maybe you'd like to go back to school to get a degree in education? You want to get a good paying job to pay off all your student loans, buy a house, and become financially set? Or go get that training to be a volunteer physical therapist working with those suffering from Parkinsons disease?"
Me: "Yes, God."

God: "What if I told you that you will be a missionary in West Africa? Would you follow me there?"

Me: "Ok, God. It would be very hard to leave my dear family and my beloved Minnesota, but moving to California for two years taught me that following you to a new location is something I can do if it's your will and your leading. I will follow you wherever you lead."

God: "What if I told you that the best work you can do for me isn't in education or isn't working with Parkinsons patients necessarily, but is simply spreading my story to share what grace and abundant life I've given you by loving people and doing life with people and sharing your heart for me? Will you follow me?"

Me: "Yes, God. Still, whatever you lead me to do..."

God: "What if I told you that I don't want you to go back to school to get a degree in education, that many people will look down on your so-called blue-collar work, but that's what I want you to be doing...and that instead you'll be working odd jobs the rest of your life?"

Me: "As long as I am following your leading for my life, your direction is what's best, and I will follow."

God: "What if I were to tell you that you will be scraping by financially for the rest of your life... Will you still follow me then?"

Me: ".....*sigh* this is so hard, God. I need money to live. I need money to sustain my health, pay my bills..."

God: "I will sustain you."

Me: "But God, how?"

God: "I will provide. Sometimes it will be through gifts. Sometimes it will be through a family offering to include you in their dinner or giving you vegetables from their garden. Sometimes it will be my provision through employment. But it is all my provisions, and I will provide for you your needs and sustain you."

Me: "There's no stability in that."

God: "Not in those things, no. But there is stability in me, that I will always provide for your needs. Will you still follow me?"

Me: "Ok. I trust you. I will follow you. Provide for me how you will."

God: "Now what if I was to tell you that you will never get married. Never have children."

Me: "Really God? Now you're telling me that I'm not going to have the bond and companionship of a spouse and the blessings of motherhood and raising children...even for the glory of your name?"

God: "What if? What if I were to tell you, no, you won't. Will you still follow me?"

Me: .............

God: "So....???"

Me: "Yes, God. You are all I need. I will still follow you, even if it means giving up the things I want for the sake of your name, your glory. You can put me through the fires. You can destroy my world around me and bring me to my knees with nothing else, and though it will be the hardest thing, I will still follow you. For a life without serving your name and following your will is a life not worth living. I am yours. However you choose to shape my life, I am yours."

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What if we trusted God's will completely?

This is something I am honestly working on. These things are some of the hardest issues in my heart that I have yet to deal with. This conversation with God is a near representation of some of the things he's been working on in my life.
And though letting this out into the blogosphere terrifies me to my soul, opening up some very deep wounds and fears, I can't help but think that maybe others will read this and be moved to also follow Christ - whatever the sacrifice.

                

(I admit, this is the first photo I've used that is most likely copyrighted, which is something I never do. As a rule, I am always very careful about using other's work, making sure it's not copyrighted and available for public use. But this blog is for personal use and has never made any money, so just for the one instance, I am going to use it anyway. There's just something about the idea of this conversation happening over coffee...specifically *my* favorite - a vanilla chai latte from Caribou Coffee, that I couldn't resist including on here.
It's not to garner attention, nor to drive traffic here. Nor is it to discredit and take advantage of the great photography here.
Regardless, far be it from me to not give credit where credit is due and I most certainly want to respect the work they do and certainly don't want to take credit for something I did not help create (save the text.) I found this on Caribou Coffee's facebook page. So whoever's work it is, whatever company created this beautiful image that perfectly 
captured what I needed... I hope you don't mind.

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The winds of change

Ahhh, it's been far too long since I've sat down to write anything.
Some of that's due to an incredibly busy schedule leading up to my departure of the west coast (best coast.) Lately it's been due to, well, not wanting to be open and write what I'm thinking and feeling.

The winds of change blow constant in my life, whether they're 100 mph storm winds or a 15 mph breeze. Sometimes I face the wind in my stubbornness, reluctant to resist to its pushing, and sometimes I let it carry me, eager to see where it will take me.

Since my return to Minnesota from SoCal, my heart has been filled with a peace and joy. There really is no place like home. I've wandered among the trees, smelled the pines and the recent rains that soak into the earth. I've sat by the lakes, my heart so content to sit by still waters and watch as it reflects the sunset painted sky. I've followed the clouds filled with thunder and lightening that spark an adventurous spirit in my soul. I've shared drinks and food and laughter with dear old friends I've missed while I was away.

On the return side, all these things are just ever-so-slightly tainted by the pinch in my heart, aching for the friends and life I shared in Camarillo. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the ocean (who wouldn't?), and of course the outer-suburb life, given how far away from Camarillo was to the city, as I am now in a very hustling and bustling area of Minneapolis. But mostly, my heart aches for the friendships and the relationships I built there. My dear Camarillo friends, please know that you are all one of a kind and I miss you all more than I can express.

But, alas, change brings me here.
I'm adjusting.

It's taking time and space.

There are things I find that make me ache to return to Camarillo. And there are things I find that make me breath in a deep breath and say "I love Minnesota and am so glad I am back."

My life has changed immeasurably in the past several years.

I am finding my new footing. Sometimes my grip underneath my feet is much faultier than others.

In all of these adjustments and changes, there is one thing I need to say.

I am confident and at peace with where God has me right now. He deserves the glory for what he is doing in and through my life, and whatever comes my way, I will follow him.

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Redwoods Relaxation and Santa Cruzin' PCH

The countdown is on to just over 4 weeks before I start my trek back to the homeland. Knowing that countdown will soon be over, I took the Purdy's up on their offer to join them in their home in the redwoods of California. Like, literally in the redwoods.

Thanks to the Purdy's for their warm and gracious hospitality. 

It was by far the most relaxing vacation I've had in a long time, and though it was only for an extended weekend, it was exactly what I needed. I spent my mornings waking up by lounging on the deck, in the quiet wilderness of the woods. It was the kind of vacation you dream about, where you can take your time waking up and enjoying the wilderness as you sip a cup of tea and getting lost in a new book.


I also took one afternoon to explore (very) nearby Henry Cowell State Park and took a great 3 mile hike to a beautiful look-out point that overlooks the boardwalk.

L: One of the giant redwoods of Henry Cowell; Top: hundreds of years displayed by the size of my hand. Bottom: A banana-slug, the mascot of UCSC. No I did not kiss it. R: REDWOODS!!!

L: Me in front of a Santa Cruz Redwood, which is relatively average sized. Top: Me in front of the Chinese tree, transplanted to Henry Cowell after discovering this species still existed. Bottom: The view from the lookout point. The lowest dip was the view of the boardwalk.

The next day, after a father's day lunch (where I filled in for the day as daughter), the Purdy's played tour guides and took me  all over Santa Cruz, adventuring downtown and along the wharf. Those two days in the mountains of Santa Cruz were surreal, beautiful, and soul-refreshing.

Left: The Santa Cruz Lighthouse. Top: The Santa Cruz Boardwalk/amusement park. Bottom: Momma Purdy and I at the wharf with the chardonnay behind us. Right: A sea lion camping out beneath the wharf.

I have a suspicion that I might not ever get to drive the PCH again from this far north, so I took off Monday morning for a full day of driving. Though only half of it was actual driving as the rest was all spent pulling off randomly on the side of the road to absorb the picturesque and utterly breathtaking views. I still can't believe I've had the opportunity to make this drive twice now.
After a stop along the Monterey Bay, I headed south through Big Sur, past Morro Bay and into SLO, where I caught the 101 back home.
It was an unbelievable journey and adventure.

The Bixby Bridge, built in 1932, by Big Sur. 

This is the Big Creek Bridge, build back in 1937.

Monterey Bay Aquatic Life.

Another view of the Big Creek Bridge

 From the morning marine layer that hadn't quite burned off yet in Monterey to the blue skies past Big Sur, the entire day was just perfect. If I could do it again, I'd go today....But I'd hire a trusted driver instead as those hours of hairpin turns definitely gave me a bit of anxiety, though it was very worth it. 

Left: Morro Rock. By this point, I was more interested in doing drive-by's and getting home. Top: one of the first stunning views I came upon after the highway left Monterey and condensed down to 2 lanes.
Bottom Pictures: Me, enjoying picturesque views as I stopped randomly and frequently to enjoy the scenery.
Right: Elephant Seal Beach nearing SLO. 

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There and back again - a Hannah's Tale

2 years ago I sat on the shore of a lake, earnestly praying for God's will to open up to me. And as I scribbled scripture and thoughts into my journal at that picnic table, I listed out three cities. Three places I could move to. What I heard was, “Go west young (wo)man.”  That decision quickly became the biggest leap of faith I’d ever taken. It was 1500 miles away from family, friends, and most of everything I’ve ever known, and though I wasn’t moving to a completely unknown area, I was still terrified. And with only a short bit of change in my pocket and a car held together by duct-tape and a prayer, I moved west. 

El Matador Beach | Malibu, CA

And what an adventure it’s been! It’s been the scariest, most-exciting, gratifying, terrifying, exhilarating, and faith-building two years.  I’ve had some of the most breathtaking beaches and views at my fingertips and have ventured into new and really cool places. I’ve taken dance classes from the best dance teachers with the best dancers in the country, and some might even argue, the world. God has placed some incredible people in my life to help me grow, to encourage me when I needed it, and to just be the friends I needed. But most importantly, God grew my faith. He required me to hang onto him in blind trust and lean into his comfort instead of relying on what normally had comforted me before.

When I moved here, I already felt comfortable in Camarillo. It was a town that simply was an immediate fit and I sank right into it. My neighborhood, my church, my friends, the familiar drives along the PCH…it all just seemed so easily like home. 

But no matter how at home I already felt in Camarillo, there were some major adjustments. A lack of true seasons, a lack of lakes, my family 1500 miles away from me, no Caribou coffee, no random trips up north to Grandma and Grandpa’s farm…and that caused some major homesickness. There were times I was ready to pack up and move home. I remember just a bit past my 1 year mark here I was having one of those fits. And I wanted so desperately to move home no later than 6 months later, because I simply couldn’t imagine being here another year. I didn’t want to commit. I didn’t want to stay. But I also knew that if I moved home because I was so homesick, I would regret it. I needed to move home because it was the right decision and that’s where God was calling me, not because I wanted to go back. Little did I know God had plans for me to stay a whole year more. And it was totally worth it. This past year has actually given me more trials that have opened my eyes to discovering who God created me to be. It’s given me time to really become dear friends to people I probably wouldn’t have as much, ESPECIALLY my roommates. And again, God gave me more opportunities to grow my faith, and it’s hard to say I would want it any different, though at times it was incredibly hard.

Back to the 651. Or close to it, at least. ;)

But, as they all say, all good things must come to an end. God has been closing the door on my adventure here and opening opportunities for me to move back to the Twin Cities. 

So, after a 3-year-hiatus from the TC, I am excited to be heading back! I will be moving into a house in uptown with a good friend of mine I’ve known for many years. I will (hopefully) have a full-time job nannying, as I’m in that process right now with a family and an agency. And I couldn’t be more excited to come home again. I will have an actual autumn and winter (though I’m sure I’ll be begrudging it come February/March) and a spring and a summer. I’ll be back near some of my favorite restaurants again, like Caribou and Annie’s (I can’t wait for an andes mint shake!). I can’t wait to take the canoe out onto the lake, head to Taylors Falls - or better yet, up the North Shore, - in the autumn or go ice-skating on a pond followed by sipping a cup of hot chai next to a fireplace at Caribou in the winter. (Yes, I am that excited for Caribou to mention it twice.) I get to reconnect with old friends and make new ones. And one of the biggest things I’m excited for - I’ll have family close enough by I can take a weekend trip, or if needed, just a day-trip. (I can actually see them more than just once a year!)

And so on July 21st, I will watch as one home passes by in the rearview mirror and then look onward to home again. 

To all my friends here in SoCal. It’s been a true pleasure. Thank you for everything. 

And to all my friends back in the cities…I’ll be seeing you soon!

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30 Years

My incredible parents have been married 30 years today. They've spent their entire marriage devoted to ministry in one way or another. It's been a struggle sometimes to be a part of a "ministry family," but I honestly am so grateful God placed me in this family. I really would not be who I am today without the parents I was blessed with.

In honor of 30 years of marriage and 27 years of parenting, I thought I'd give you some of my favorite stories a couple of their past anniversaries.

It was the spring of my 7th grade year. They had made plans for a weekend getaway at a bed and breakfast less than a couple hours away. My dear sister, who was only 2 at the time, had a babysitter, and I had the freedom to spend the night with my friend Lydia (who lived down the street) camping out in her backyard. But the perfect child in me got away that night, because we thought it'd be fun to go running around town at 2 in the morning with boys. God must've thought that was a dumb idea, because he stopped that escapade short about 2 minutes into it when I fell down a hill and went hands first into the pavement of the street. The fall was so jarring that it dislocated my left elbow. I, as a 12 year old, was simply in pain, but the boys (ironically) thought it was really gross. After a call to my parents (whom I'm sure really appreciated that call) Lydia's mom was driving us to the hospital (after she had just gotten off her shift as a nurse at another hospital). And another few hours after that I woke up from the anesthesia and had an elbow wrapped in a sling. Nearly 15 years later and I still have a click in that elbow when I bend it sometimes. 

A number of years later when I was in college, I had come home for the summer. I had just finished finals and was home for the summer, with a few bonus perks. After a year working on the newspaper, I acquired some Chanhassen Dinner Theater tickets that we never used. So I gave those to my parents for them to use for their anniversary trip, which was meant to be a lovely full-weekend getaway to the Twin Cities. And sometimes, as a parent, you just have to laugh about plans. The day before they were to leave, my sister discovered several spots. A family friend who is a pediatrician came to check on her and found they were, indeed, chicken-pox. I was to babysit my sister at this time, and though my parents were apprehensive to leave, they did. So in order to try to make my sister as comfortable as possible and keeping her quarantined away from my grandmother (who was living with us after her stroke, and was at risk of getting shingles), I brought in the 13 inch TV with the DVD player so she could stay in bed and watch her favorite movie at the time, Flicka. 

So that night while they were enjoying a great show (I think it was "Oklahoma!") with dinner, I was up with my sister watching Flicka. And then watching Flicka again. And again. She was uncomfortable and couldn't sleep and really had a hard time doing just about anything, including any movement of any kind. Just when I thought she had fallen asleep, I'd go to my room next door to try to catch a few zzz's. A few minutes later she would prove me wrong and I would again be up. At one point I tried putting in another movie. We got about 15 minutes into it and she was complaining that she wanted Flicka, still. So Flicka it was. All. Night. Long.

The next morning after a phone chat with my parents, they decided to finish off the rest of their day plans then come home early. After getting in late that evening, my sister learned they still had a piece of their cake left, which she immediately asked for. And my parents decided to appease her. So I grabbed the slice with a fork and brought it up to her. And as I walked into the door I saw her trying to sit up with obvious pain on her face, since it hurt because of the shifting of cloth on her chicken pox. She groaned, "oh, this is the part that hurts." And as soon as she saw the cake in my hand, her face turned to a puppy-dog and partially stuck out her tongue in a pathetic, half-hearted attempt to get me to feed her, which, by the way, did not work. And although the description might not be as the real-life event, it was truly one of the funniest sister moments I've ever experienced. 

My childhood was filled with many great memories of camping, going on trips, dinners and picnics, family evenings at home, but mostly, unconditional love. 

I pray, mom & dad, that God would bless you with 30 more…and then some more after that.

If you know my parents, please comment and tell them an encouragement, a funny story about the two of them, or a simple congratulations! 

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Christianity is being hijacked

Ask a surfer about the movie "Blue Crush" and you'll get an earful on how it was so unrealistic.

Ask a professional driver about the Fast & Furious movies and you'll hear over and over that drifting like that doesn't quite work like that. (Not to mention F&F6 required a runway 10 times longer than the longest runway in the world.)

Ask a politician about the show "House of Cards" or "Scandal" and…well…President Obama cleared that up.

Their lives were hijacked by Hollywood.

And that's exactly what I believe is happening to Christianity.

It's being hijacked by the people who either have no clue what it is to begin with or have stopped following God's word for their own version of what they believe it should be. I feel I am being misrepresented. And that's what's more frustrating in the larger play of things.

During an argument, one of the most frustrating things is when we feel we are not being heard, that our voice is drowned out by the other persons' inability to truly listen. Or even worse, when somebody stands up to address our case and we feel we are misrepresented. Our society is filled with so many opinions from so many places that now there are is an over-abundance of voices screaming for attention, and inevitably, people aren't truly heard or listened to. There is no unity, there is no one clear voice, and from that matter, we cannot be heard. Not that this one blog post will do that, but instead of shouting about one thing or another trying to argue the point at hand, I want to get to the heart of the matter.

Let's take some key components currently dictating "virtual water cooler talk" in the Christian community.

1) Noah (the movie)

2) Hobby Lobby

3) World Vision

(If you don't understand what these three mean, a quick google news search will help get you up to speed from here.)

1) Noah was previewed and discussed in a 3-person panel recently at the International Christian Media Convention by the National Religious Broadcasters about how the film both uses Biblical truth and diverts away from it, as well. That discussion led to the current NRB President & CEO's request to Paramount to add a disclaimer with the movie. Noah is now being promoted as a "fictional story based off the Biblical story." Typically, anything in hollywood that's based off of a real-life story, there's bound to be creative licenses. 

The issue at hand was that Christians felt the film was being misrepresented as truth, or an accurate depiction of the Biblical story.

2) Hobby Lobby. This has been a widely-addressed and publicized lawsuit. It's also been one of the biggest stories that I've seen journalistic integrity go out the window. It has been publicized that the owners of the company desire to cease providing birth control in their insurance. That is by far not the case. If whatever journalists had actually read the lawsuit, or even dug just a half an inch in, they'd find that the only forms of "birth control" they'd like to keep off their insurance policies are two controversial forms of "birth control": 1) the morning-after pill and 2) abortions. Both of which are not necessarily known as "birth control." Hobby Lobby at this current day provides birth control on their insurance policies, and they are open to any who needs them, including for reasons of hormonal imbalances.

Again, their case in the media is being misrepresented and by those who also don't take the time to look into the basic facts of the case and inadvertently spread falsehoods.

3) World Vision. This has been one heck of a week for them and for the entire Christian community in a story that's made national headlines.

Take out the homosexuality debate and you get to the heart of the matter. Conservative Christians were concerned that World Vision, (who is a big name nationally, especially amongst evangelical Christians) had made a decision that misrepresented Biblical truth. Because in the conservative's view, Word Vision had taken a major step aside from Biblical truth and they struggled to support an organization who was not committed to the Gospel and solid Biblical teachings. (More on how that applies later.)

Right now, I feel like my religion, the truth of God, is being misrepresented and not heard. And I'd like to discuss a bit more in detail of the importance of the World Vision debacle.

First, let me pose the question, why is homosexuality such a hot-topic issue?

I believe it's because it's such a personal thing for many people. For those who've made that discovery of homosexuality, it's a very deep and personal issue. And if you were told that you were going to hell because of who you believe you are, you would probably be very very hurt. So for those of us living the Christian life and are against homosexuality, we have to be so very sensitive to this. 

There are two major sides in this issue that splits evangelical Christians - "How To Love Homosexuals."

Some say that the sensitivity we need to have is "love" - that love they are talking about is a love that simply accepts them for who they are and can get behind the homosexual lifestyle. It's believed that it's engrained in who they are, they are born this way, so we must love them where they're at. I believe this is a false love, the kind that reels you in for a falsified truth. 

The Bible, the breath and bread of Christianity, tells us that the love we need to have has to come from Christ. This love needs to be patient and kind. It shouldn't be boastful and arrogant, self-seeking, nor dishonor others, keep a record of wrongs against us (harboring grudges). BUT, Love does NOT rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth. It is a balancing act those must face, for it must embody love by giving grace, being patient and kind, yet being firm in instruction, even when it hurts...just like a parent must tell their child when they're doing something wrong to correct the behavior, yet still holds their arms open and says "I love you. I want the best for you. If you listen to my instructions, the best is going to come." 

I am close with many mothers. Sometimes the best way a child responds to correction is by kind words suggesting another approach, and encouraging good behavior. Sometimes they must use discipline as a discouragement from bad behavior. I believe both are good methods! 

Many Christians are getting bad raps because our correction isn't coming from a place of encouragement towards good but of condemnation of the bad. 

But many Christians like myself feel our "parenting" (if you will) is being misrepresented by those who encourage the bad behavior because they are afraid or unwilling to help correct the bad behavior in a positive way.

Some may argue - why this sin? What's so different about this versus someone who lies? I don't know if there's an answer if we're looking at the specific sin. Homosexuality is a major red-flag in the Bible, especially in the Old Testament, but what's that compared to murder? I can't speak for God. And perhaps there's a theological answer I'm missing.

But I believe the difference begins with the heart.

It had been said by some that the entire Gospel is at stake in this debate. Though it says nowhere in scripture to my knowledge that "homosexuals can't be saved" it has more to do with that very heart of the issue of true salvation. 

The issue with homosexual Christians is that the act is an overt act of defiance against God's word. It is saying either "I'm claiming to love God and follow Him, but this part that He's saying is sin really isn't, so it's okay." or "I'm claiming to love God and follow Him, but I don't care if it is a sin, because this is who I am." It is either taking God's truth and twisting it to say "it's okay" or it's taking God's truth and ignoring his instruction. And in both cases, it's a claim to ignore God's love. It's on purpose, can't be ignored sin.

Does this mean that homosexuals can't go to heaven, even if they were saved Christians before? I don't know, honestly. That's a meaty chunk of theology that I haven't delved into yet. 

But I do believe that if you are truly saved, your heart develops over time to be more like Christ. And if you're ignoring the Holy Spirit on this issue (or any issue for that matter) I'd say that's a matter of attitude and the heart. Who are you willing to serve. Christ said you must DENY YOURSELF and FOLLOW ME if you want to be a Christian - a Christ follower. So what is it?

I believe if we stop throwing out hurtful words at each other as Christians and begin to look at the qualities and teachings of Jesus Christ - from birth through death and resurrection - we'll find where that stable ground is. I hope that's where the definition of Christian can start coming from again. Because until then, there will always be misrepresented Christians who feel like our voices aren't being heard.

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The Driving Force

In 1940, Martin Nodell and Bill Finger introduced the world to DC Comic's newest hero, The Green Lantern. Though it's gone through a series of hiatuses, the comic has ultimately produced 5 volumes, which are still being produced today.

In volume 4, after a controversial editorial decision, Hal Jordan, our hero-turned-villain-turned-hero again faces his demon - a parasitic embodiment of fear.

That volume and volume 5 were later used as the plotline for the latest Green Lantern movie, starring Ryan Reynolds as Hal Jordan. In this movie, Hal, who is the symbol of will, is summoned as the next Green Lantern and must fight fear itself to save Earth from destruction. In the end, a battle between will and fear will prove that fear is not the stronger motivators of the two.

As I've pondered lately at my life's choices - my actions, my decisions, my failures - I've come to the conclusion that there are either two forces in the world that help us make them.

One comes out of fear. A fear of failure, a fear of rejection, a fear of love lost, a fear of discipline when I need it, a fear of hatred and ill-words towards me. Fear is a very strong motivator. The problem with fear is that in entraps you in a web of lies, keeping you from moving forward.

Another comes out of love. A realization that my failures don't predict the amount of love I lose. A realization that my accomplishments don't predict the amount of love I gain. A realization that God loves me. Period. Nothing I do can change the amount of love he gives me. And there is a great, great freedom that comes from that knowledge an acceptance of that love.

Nearly four years ago, I moved 1500 miles away for an internship. It was during that time I fell in love with the people at Emmaus - a church group of young adults who made it a point to share our brokenness, our mistakes, our failures. We didn't wallow in them. No, instead, we lifted them up to the light and showered each other in love and grace. For the first time, I felt what it meant to let go of the fear of showing my failures drive me and allow the love of Christ to cover me.

Our driving force should never be out of fear - I believe fear is the tool of the Devil to keep us from showing Christ in any way. He wants to keep us from showing our failures. Christ wants us to take them to Him so they may be shown in the glory and reflection of His love, mercy, and grace.

Love wins. Love always wins.

Let that be your driving force.

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Real Life, Real Mugs

Life with my favorite mug, compliments of my girl Ashley. #cariboucoffee #MinnesotaGirl

We have a favorite saying at the church office that goes "real life, real mugs." Basically, we believe real life demands a real mug. There's something soothing about holding a warm mug, gently sipping life away. Along with the real mugs comes the real life.
Unfortunately, our lives aren't the pinteresty, instagrammed or tweet-worthy moments all the time.

My life has changed quite drastically over the last couple months. I've gone through some major life shifts and I am constantly feeling like I'm battling a world that wants to let out the ground beneath me. Because of this shifting, I've been spending a lot of time doing some serious introspection, journaling, praying, and just generally thinking about my changing situations and expectations (and the ones that don't change).

I headed to our weekly game night and a friend who noticed my tone that night asked me about how I was doing. In general, I stated "I've just been thinking a lot." She said back to me, "You're over thinking it."

I thought to myself "She doesn't understand - she's just not being sympathetic. I'm not over-thinking this, I'm just praying a lot."

But the more I thought about it that week, the more I realized that I was over-thinking it. I was over-thinking it to the point of worrying and stressing, and that wasn't healthy. I had become so self-centered by simply spinning my own issues over and over and over in my head that I had shut out the needs and blessings of others around me.

Last night I had an event I was to go to.

Instead, half an hour post-event-start, I am sipping tea with my roommate in our real mugs and talking about our real life struggles.

It reminded me that I needed to get outside of my own head and my own problems. Because others have theirs. And if you can look outside of your own current problems and spend more time looking at how to bless others, you'll gain perspective on your own issues without being told "There are starving children in Africa who have life worse than you."

So meet up with a friend, grab a couple real mugs, fill them up with your favorite warm beverages of choice, and share life, asking how you can bless one another.

If you ask me, that sounds like a better way to do real life.

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You know you're a pastor's kid when

You know you're a pastor's kid when....

1. You or your siblings are frequently an illustration point in the sermon.
2. You are frequently "asked" to read scripture, sing, play piano, harmonica, or the recorder for every special service, as well as most offertories.
3. Basically everyone in the church knows you by name.
4. Your family is the 1st to arrive at church and the last to leave after what seemed like 40 hours of "goodbyes."
5. After you move away and begin being a pastor's kid at some other church, you go back to the other church and feel slightly out of place.
6. You have more family than anyone you know, because those churches have become your aunts and uncles, siblings, parents and grandparents, and even great-grandparents that care for you just as if you were part of their own family. This also includes punishment as if you were part of their own family.
7. You are used to getting birthday and Christmas gifts to "the family" from members of the church.
8. You had major speaking roles in every Christmas pageant.
9. You grow up and realize that normal people have these things called "weekends" where sometimes they go on a short trip.
10. Private. Christian. School.
11. You weren't allowed to be in any traveling sports teams or go to any NFL football games because they conflicted with church.
12. Holidays weren't vacation days.
13. You're used to your house being a revolving place where members of the church stop by to chat.
14. You're used to cleaning and decorating the house for church parties.
15. You were either pegged as the "good kid" or the "rebel kid."
16. You felt an inordinate amount of pressure to be "the good kid" - otherwise known as "perfect."
17. Two Words: Church Camp.
18. The church was secretly another facility for birthday parties and you used the church ovens to make Thanksgiving dinner because they were big enough.
19. Pastor's appreciation month was your favorite month because you were usually included in the small gifts the congregation gives.
20. You end up doing something ministry-related as an adult, because you realize that there's no other job in the world quite like it and you've already got a lifetime of experience.

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f a v o r i t e s

BOOK: Wiser than Serpents by Susan May Warren.

PLACE IN THE HOUSE: The blue striped couch in our living room, in front of the fireplace and our beautiful 

french doors to our back yard.

PLACE TO CREATE: In a coffee shop.

WAY TO HEAL: journaling, walking and praying.

FORM OF RELAXATION: Drinking tea while being completely absorbed in a good book.

PLACE IN THE WORLD: In the woods, on the lake in Northern Minnesota.

FOOD: Chocolate

TOOL: a drill (my dad would be so proud)

FORM OF TRANSPORTATION: Driving. Driving to nowhere. Just driving.

HOUSEHOLD CHORE: Making dinner/dishes

MORNING BEVERAGE: Tea

EARTH ELEMENT: Water

TIME OF DAY: At night, when it gets quiet and still

SEASON: Winter. I love the snow.

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Christ is Here! Finally!

Outside the snow has added a fresh layer to the corners of the window. My tea warms my hands as I curl up on the couch, listening to my favorite Christmas album. My family's Christmas tree sits before me, miraculously holding up the pounds of ornaments that adorn its branches.

It's Christmastime in the Midwest and I am beside myself with joy and contentment. There's something about coming home, holding family tight and celebrating the birth of our savior.

Into my adulthood, I've realized that while digging into Christ's story and His character, I learn so much. It seems that each Christmas season there's one new thing God is teaching me throughout my favorite time of year.

Last year was my first Christmas season away from family and away from the Midwest. Moving to California changed how I had to see Christmas. It didn't need to be about the snow, the traditions I had made years before but now couldn't be a part of, or even being with family. God stripped away those things last year to make room for Him, to clear away the clutter so that I could focus on what Christmas really is all about - Christ.

This year God has me focused on a different aspect of the Christmas Story: the fulfillment of the prophecy.
It's been incredible as I've been doing my devotionals to look at the Christmas story and go to the corresponding Old Testament references to that part of the story. For instance, Hosea 11:1 predicted that Joseph would take Mary and Joseph out of the country to Egypt after His birth (at this point, now 3 or so years after) because of Herod.
That is just one example out of many. There are countless other Old Testament verses that indicate certain things in Jesus' birth story.

After reading all the Old Testament references, I couldn't help but wonder what it might have been like to live before His birth, anticipating this day, and the joy that fell upon them learning of His birth.

For so long, the scriptures, their heritage, their teachings said that one day a savior would come. That he'd be born of a virgin in Bethlehem, and that Shepherds and Kings would come to worship Him. And that later they'd flee the country fearing for their lives, then return...and that He would be the Son of God and called Lord. They knew it was coming. They anticipated that day, I'm sure.

Then it happened. Exactly as the scriptures indicated, God gave his Son to this earth. He who would become our savior. And they worshiped him, for they were filled with unspeakable joy that, in fact, God hadn't abandoned him. For, you see, Immanuel was prophesied by Isaiah to come - that name means "God with us." All of those years, waiting, hoping, praying for His coming, and they finally had Him. It was, in fact, the greatest gift, for he represented Hope. Hope for a future filled with peace, joy, love.

And those who came to see him fell upon their knees in awe, in joy, in gladness, in thankfulness, in worship to Christ, their Lord. I would imagine tears streamed upon their faces as they sang praises to God. The heavenly hosts sang "Glory to God in the Highest! And on earth, Peace among men with whom He is pleased."

Tonight, as I stood next to my family and hundreds of other families at the Christmas eve service, singing hymns praising his birth, I began to cry. (I usually don't admit this, but in the past couple years, I've become way more of a crier than ever before.) I began to cry, imagining bowing down before my Lord, in awe and wonder that He is with us, just as was prophesied hundreds of years before He was born. And just as was prophesied, we were given Immanuel - for the gift of Christ was given.

          "O, Come let us adore him! Christ, The Lord!"

"Shepherds, why this jubilee?

Why your joyous strains prolong?

What the gladsome tidings be

Which inspire your heavenly song?

GLORIA, IN EXCELSIS DEO (glory to God in the highest)!"

"Fall on your knees - Oh hear, the angel's voices! Oh, night when Christ was born!"

These songs carry such weight and emotion in them - can't you hear it in the words and the melody? What joy must have been that night! Everything they'd hoped and prayed for was in front of them, there, in the flesh.

And that couldn't embody the truest meaning of Christmas more: God giving His son to us, our savior, our Lord and King.

I hope you take some time to consider the Old Testament prophecies and how they bring so much depth to the Christmas story this season. But mostly, I hope you celebrate the birth of our savior, and what joy comes with accepting his grace and love.
Merry Christmas to you, from snowy South Dakota!

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It's Christmastime in The Cottage!

One of my favorite traditions during Christmas-time is all the Christmas decorating. Who doesn't love staring at lights, tinsel, garland, and, now that I live in Southern California, *fake snow?

A couple nights ago, my roommate and I went to go get our Christmas Tree, which we later affectionately dubbed "Alfalfa," for he has a funny cowlick of a branch in the back. He smells like a great Christmas tree and oftentimes I will walk up to the tree just to close my eyes and take a whiff of the pine.

Though the majority of our Christmas tree is filled with round shiny ornaments, there are several that have cute meanings behind them - Kim and her love affair with owls, plus a Hello Kitty arrangement that she bought upon her engagement with Wes...me and a few I handmade recently.

In addition to the obligatory wrapping-selves in lights and sipping hot cocoa while dancing around to Jingle Bell Rock, we also decked our halls in garland, poinsettias, tinsel, stockings, and more lights.

There is something so calming and soothing about just sitting and staring at the lights in silence late in the night. The peace that fills my soul as I sit and sip on a cup of tea, getting lost in a daze of memories and dreams.

Christmas time is my favorite time of the year. And though I still have no (real) snow, I am truly enjoying the advent of our Lord Jesus Christ and celebrating the season with friends that are family.

Soon this house will be busting with people, eating and chatting and having a grand time. Now its time to get baking and prepping!

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november

In Ten Words:searching . preparing . tea . writing . friendships . hopeful . wandering . pumpkin . longing . caribou mug (I concede the last one is 2 words.)

Perfect Day:Sunday. No matter how tired, frustrated, stressed, worried, and anxious I am about everything, from the time I enter into worship in the morning, take the afternoon to wander and be quiet, and then spend the evening with the youth group, it's a day full of spiritual refreshment. I wish all days could be Sundays.

Inspiration:a book of poems I picked up at a garage sale a while back.
Dee Henderson & Susan May Warren.
the dream of cozying up next to the fireplace writing for hours on end.

Unwind:Sipping a cup of tea while reading, writing, or watching Friends as my roommate sews a dress.

Can't live without:My walks. I love getting to take short breaks throughout the day and taking some time to spend with God, discussing my future, my heart, my frustrations, my fears, my dreams...

Favorite Indulgence:Chocolate. I guess nothing changes.
That, and bedtime tea in my Caribou mug or my "H" mug.

Currently Most Played on iPod:
Moon River - Andy Williams
River - Sarah McLachlan
After You - Breanne Duren
Helicopter - Branches
Home - The Piano Guys

Proudest Moment:NaNoWriMo 2013!
If by some miracle I finish, I'll have 50,000 words by November 30th.

Biggest Challenge:Making time for writing and chores and cooking every night.

Memory:The day the Vikings won. Victory never tasted so sweet.

You can find me:When not at work, either curled up on the couch with a mug of tea writing or at Element or a bookstore writing.

3 goals:
Write
Write some more
Write 50,000 words by November 30th

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contentment

I usually think of birds symbolizing adventure, soaring on the wind, taking the breeze wherever it leads them. Watching them fly on the streams of air, I often forget that they just sit, too. I recently saw several birds sitting on phone wires and singing to each other. And I couldn't help but wonder about their seemingly content nature, just resting and enjoying the place they're at.

Part of me longs for adventure, always wanting to fly away. But many times, I often forget that I need to sit. To stay. To stay and be content to stay.

It's always greener on the other side of the fence, and it's always easier to want adventure when you're sitting and to want to sit when you're on an adventure. But contentment is something to be learned. And I am learning just that.

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far from the madding crowd

somewhere south of bemidji, mn

it seems to me i'd like to go
where bells ne'er ring or whistles blow;
where clocks ne'er strike and gongs ne'er sound,
but where there's stillness all around.

not real still stillness - just the trees'
low whisperings or the croon of bees;
the drowsy tinkling of the rill,
or twilight song of whippoorwill.

'twould be a joy could i behold
the dappled fields of green and gold,
or in the cool, sweet clover lie
and watch the cloud-ships drifting by.

i'd like to fid some quaint old boat,
and find its oars, and with it float
along the lazy, limpid stream
where water-liles drowse and dream.

sometimes it seems to me i must 
just quit the city's din and dust,
for fields of green and skies of blue
and, say! how does it seem to you?


-Nixon Waterman.


This poem has been speaking to me. and seems to fit my novel I'm working on. I picked up a book called "best loved poems" at a garage sale some month-or-so ago. It's an old worn-down book with yellowing pages that are tattered at their corners and smell like history. I've found it to be enthralling, enchanting, yet relaxing and soothing. I may not be a poet, but I do love the written word when it ebbs and flows so beautifully.

I hope you find the solace and quiet from the noise of the city streets. 

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