Posts tagged God

Conversations at Grace Table : on Quiet Hospitality

Feb 18, 2015 Leave a Comment ~ Written by lisha epperson

quiet hospitality_ Looking Up To God_GT21

photo: Grace Table

“But oh! GOD is in his holy Temple! Quiet everyone—a holy silence. Listen!” ‭Habakkuk‬ ‭2‬:‭20‬ MSG

I’m at home with the littlest lovelies. Chailah has a cold and the deal-breaking fever that kept us from attending co-op. It’s cold and quiet and tiny flurries whip through the sky foreshadowing the storm to come. It is well with me. An impending storm and the holy hush that silences a city is perfect for quiet hospitality…indeed the simple celebration of being at home. In this season, my home is the temple. I welcome the silence. It’s sacred.

I’ll make soup. Bake bread. Along with a fair measure of Motrin shots I’ll hug and kiss the cooties away. I’ll have coffee ready when my husband comes home and listen to my teenaged son talk about attending high school next year. I’ll draw angry bird figures with Ade and teach him to play Go Fish. I’ll let Ila stay up late tonight. Maybe over tea we’ll discuss life – woman to woman.

But if someone stopped by today, unannounced, I’m not sure I’d answer the door. I shouldn’t admit that right? For more reasons than I can name here, my family needs all the hospitality I can offer. What we need is quiet. I need to listen for the yes, and for the no. The “as for me and my house WE”. I need to hear God – His holy affirmation of a hospitality that is quiet.

Have a seat with me at Grace Table. I want to tell you more.

Posted in christianity, faith, Guest Post, life, parenting, relationships, uncategorized - Tagged Grace Table, hospitality, quiet

Give Me Grace : A Little Bit of Love

Feb 14, 2015 41 Comments ~ Written by lisha epperson

“Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

– from sonnet 116 William Shakespeare

I yelled these words to my husband across a glacier in Iceland, whispered them in the rain forest in El Yunce and cried over them while watching a doomed love grow between Marianne and the dashing but dumb Willoughby in a scene from the movie Sense and Sensibility.

I’ve tried to live these words in our relationship. Because you don’t make it through the covenant of marriage without a little rattling. Love, commitment, the promise is made for shaking. Inherent in love is the promise of testing and trials.

I focused on being the ever-fixed mark. I forgot the mark lies at the center, the very bullseye of my heart. I forgot I’d get tired of being a target. Holding it down in love is hard.

Today is as good as any to check in with my heart. I’m paying attention to slight differences, however small. How marriage changes, how I am changed through choosing to go through life one part of a whole. If I’m smart I’ll choose to see the beauty in the many shades of my marriage. I’ll steel myself with the truth of our many shades of gray. It’s the journey through the spectrum that makes us real. I see consistency in complexity. And I see God.

Appreciating the difference is intentional. It’s the challenge and choice to play with texture and tone while staying in the same box. To walk through each shade as it were, with passion and hope. And grace. Gray is the perfect choice for our marriage. It’s solid but ever-changing. The subtle degrees of difference detected in hue from day-to-day, week to week…from year to year – are a gift.

I got a manicure for my birthday and almost cried. The acknowledgement of self care…simply catching myself in the middle of it, almost made me cry. My littles love me up all day long but this was different. The technician cradled my hand and I melted in the simple grace of being held. I need more of that. My marriage needs more of that.

We push through weeks of skating and science and architecture and music concerts. Somewhere in the middle of all that are meals to cook, children to bathe, hugs to give. We’re knee-deep in this parenting thing and we don’t always make time for self-care. Days go by before we remember we haven’t touched.

We crawled into bed the other night with no children between us…only the 50 shades of gray that come with any marriage that lasts almost 20 years. There’s pewter, blue, ash, silver, slate, battleship gray and sometimes charcoal…almost black. Sometimes I find myself trailing off into the abyss of a blinding black hole. Sometimes love is hard. I don’t know if I want to get lost in it or face the fight to get out. This year love isn’t shiny or smooth. But it’s solid. I’m grateful for that.

I curled into his arms and breathed deep the smell of home. I held him and let myself…be held. A little bit more and a little bit more. Longer. The longer we’re together the more aware I am of loves complexity. Love takes time and I’m still getting to know the man I gave my heart among a field of flowers on a sunny day in June. I’m slowly flowering again to his embrace. Our love is like the night sky. The darkness before midnight and the morning after. Our love is a garden…growing. We’ll need at least another twenty years to harvest all Gods promised.

all images flickr cc : Brenda Clarke

This love thing of ours was never black and white. It was always shades of gray. I knew that walking down the aisle holding a bouquet of wilting peonies. I knew it.

So today I remember…the lavender gray of twilight and the hope I found in a few still thriving branches on the Christmas tree we threw out last week. And there you have it – our love is a surprise.

I want to notice the nuanced, shaded, degrees of change in our love. The barely perceptible but beautiful changes. It’s something I can trust. May each shade be a layer, another layer of love.

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight…#GiveMeGrace

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Posted in christianity, faith, life, relationships, uncategorized - Tagged #GiveMeGrace, 50 shades of gray, grace, gray, hope, love, marriage, sonnet 116, William Shakespeare

Give Me Grace : Tuning in, Taking Notice

Feb 07, 2015 31 Comments ~ Written by lisha epperson

For, behold, I am for you, and I will turn to you, and you will be cultivated and sown. Ezekiel 36:9

We made it to the bus-stop just in time to catch the M3. I shuttled the kids ahead of me as I searched in the black hole of my purse for change. They scrambled for seats as the bus made its way down 5th Avenue. Slowly. I always forget how long it takes to get anywhere on the bus at midday.

The ride gave me time to meditate on my one word for the year – slow. I’d looked up to track our progress when I noticed we’d stopped in front of Conservatory Gardens, just 2 blocks from where we got on. It took 15 minutes to travel 2 city blocks. We weren’t moving.

I love this garden. It’s the home of our family tree. Where I remember Nicole – where God speaks to me on a bench. In this garden, I’m healed. But I haven’t been in a while. The Lovelies and I have weathered the winter indoors. Frigid temperatures and an unwelcome stomach virus kept us cabin bound for weeks.

Sometimes God stills us to get our attention, so I recognized the nudge. God wasn’t interested in my plans to arrive at the theater on time. He had something to say. He wanted me to look up. To notice.

Just beyond the branch covered pergola I saw a bulldozer and tractor. Piles of upturned soil and big chunks of ice pushed aside and tiny people moving in the distance. Major construction was taking place in my garden and I hadn’t noticed.

And this was the message. “I’m working. Let me do it. Let me change you. Yield to my ability. Improvement is necessary. I want to make you better. Surrender to rehabilitation, renovation. restoration. Trust me.”

Take notice – He’s turning the soil, renewing the field of your spirit…planting new seeds. All the time.

I saw it as a metaphor for life…and a promise. A promise I need to hear. Because I sometimes doubt He’ll do all He says He can do. I wonder about the reality of being broken beyond repair. I doubt the possibility of a do over. And even though He hand delivered a message to me in a reminder that’s now 4 years old, I worry that perhaps it’s too late. I worry I won’t be able to begin again. I don’t see the work He’s doing. Sometimes I don’t.

That day I saw past the breakdown to the build up. The deconstruction before reconstruction. I saw past the work of renovation to the work of redemption. And I saw the strength of my limbs in the branches of barren trees. Holding the weight and worth of a world longing for spring. I’m fragile and vulnerable. But I’m here and I can do it. The birds trust me. I haven’t cracked or broken. And somehow I keep producing. I twist and bend and because of Him I do not break.

I am the bud that blossoms after the soils been turned. I am the tree that rises after years of rest.

He’s cultivating. Pruning. Stripping. Tilling and turning the field of my life. I have to let Him do it.

I looked up long enough that day to notice this. A cardinal. Trusting. Resting. And the bud …believing. I noticed.

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight…#GiveMeGrace

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Posted in christianity, faith, Give Me Grace, life, uncategorized - Tagged #GiveMeGrace, ezekiel 36:9, garden, notice, noticing, slow

Give Me Grace : The Power of A Single Story…Yours

Jan 31, 2015 34 Comments ~ Written by lisha epperson

My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is past my knowledge. With the mighty deeds of the Lord God I will come; I will remind them of your righteousness, yours alone. O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come. – Psalm 71:15-18

From the back of the room I saw tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She spoke with a lump in her throat and I could feel the soft tremble of emotion as she told her story…again. Elise Daly Parker is a community building powerhouse and her story is the goose bump kind. She tells it in a river of words that take you on a god-spotting journey. From faith-shattering to awe-inspiring you straddle the crest of the wave knowing its equal parts awful and lovely, broken and true. Still, God leaves room for calm, space to breathe…in her storm. Elise tells it with heart.

I woke up early this morning to take a van from 42nd St in New York to attend the Circles of Faith Women of Influence Breakfast. I’d looked forward to it for months. A chance to connect with other bloggers and writers on the east coast was one thing I wouldn’t miss. I made it my business to be there. An opportunity to hang out with Chelle Wilson would have been reason enough to attend but there was so much more. I met the only East coast representative from Noonday and enjoyed divine appointments with women whose lives mirrored my own. The staff at Circles of Faith did a wonderful job in assembling such a diverse group. And I brought a friend, Tanya Jones, my long-time sister in ministry sat right next to me.

Before Elise finished telling her story the room erupted in jubilant praise. Standing to our feet we couldn’t help cheering. I’m sure it happens every time she tells her story – and that’s just the way God wants it. Telling our stories is potent powerful medicine. It’s a healing inoculation against doubt – a booster shot for faith. We all enjoyed the after glow of the presence of a God who lives in the story. Each word a holy helping of grace – an in the moment measure of encouragement.

I think we all got saved again hearing her story. In the telling, she did too. It’s the God good kind of story that makes you believe…because He showed himself mighty, He redeemed every shattered thing and she…lived to tell.

Don’t doubt the power of telling your story again and again and again. I watched it heal her and help us. Doing the happy dance at the end of a battle doesn’t mean every wound has completely healed. Let’s face it, every story is a journey, a process. The fullness of redemption takes time. In the interim God makes magic with the words. The brilliance of the masterpiece is in the weaving of each sacred chapter. It all starts with words.

We live in a fast paced world that demands something new every day. It isn’t easy to keep up. We respond to the onslaught of new information by archiving our stories. Our testimonies get shelved. A good flashback reminds us of His righteousness…His mighty deeds. God works in the wonder of a new day, I’m sure of it, but there’s no expiration on the glory of a story. So begin at the beginning. I’m listening.

Celebrate the power of a single story. Tell your story again.

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight…#GiveMeGrace

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Posted in blogging, christianity, faith, Give Me Grace, life, uncategorized - Tagged #GiveMeGrace, Chelle Wilson, Circles of Faith, Elise Daly Parker, encouragement, friend, story, Tanya Jones, the power of a single story, women, Words

The Christians Secret of a Happy Life : Reflections on Service {ch.15}

Jan 23, 2015 Leave a Comment ~ Written by lisha epperson

Gods way of working, therefore, is to get possession of the inside of a man, to take the control and management of his will, and to work it for him. If you are in bondage in the manner of service, you need to put your will completely into the hands of your Lord, surrendering to Him the entire control of it. – Hannah W. Smith The Christians Secret of a Happy Life

The first ministry I belonged to began as a Bible study in Manhattan’s theater district. We were a congregation of artists — models, painters, singers, musician, and actors. And we loved Jesus. We wanted to serve the kingdom with our gifts, and did so . . . willingly. But that didn’t mean we wouldn’t have to battle the parts of our personalities that wanted to be seen . . . to perform.

Service is complicated. Artists wrestle with reconciling obligation and opportunity. On the surface it’s simple — share what you love with people you love. But what of motivation? It’s easy to confuse a desire to “shine for Jesus” with the drive to perform. Performances are riddled with doubt and carry with them an expectation for results. And that’s not ministry, let alone authentic service.

I resonated most with this passage from the classic book, The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life, by Hannah Whitall Smith:

You love your work in the abstract, but in the doing of it you find so many cares and responsibilities connected with it and feel so many misgivings and doubts as to your own capacity or ability that it becomes a heavy burden,and you go to it bowed down before the labor has even begun. Then also you are continually distressing yourself about the results of your work. (p. 138)

I had to get my heart right. God can make something from the nothing of any “performance.” If the offering is pure, God can use it for ministry. Doing what we love can be a useful service — but first we must surrender.

I was a passionate and devoted dancer but could I not make it about me? Could I minister?

I’m joining friends at Deeper Waters for reflections on “service” from chapter 15 of The Christians Secret to a Happy Life. Read the rest here.

Posted in christianity, faith, Guest Post, life, uncategorized - Tagged artists, gifts, Hannah W. Smith, service, surrender, The Christians Secret of a Happy Life

5 Minutes for Faith : Parenting Slow {a one word remix}

Jan 16, 2015 Leave a Comment ~ Written by lisha epperson

Plenty of people miss their share of happiness, not because they never found it, but because they didn’t stop to enjoy it. – William Feather

Just a few weeks into my One Word 365 and I’m certain I made the right choice. I feel it seeping into my heart and mind and almost constantly, new revelation on the word slow becomes part of me. This years word complements last years so well. It allows me to continue walking on the path God placed me on last year – minus the self-inflicted stress . Discipline is the result of a slow, methodical, thoughtful life path. Without the slow my discipline is easily warped – a chaotic mix of effort and plans gone wrong. And fatigue. Did I mention the fatigue?

She pressed the paper onto my lap. Six years old and full of enthusiasm for her craft, she tried to get my attention. She wanted me to see. There’s nothing like the “let me show you” attitude of a girl filled with determination. Her world is the right now impulsive energy behind her request. She won’t take no.

Where did this come from? Chailah’s measured and intentional. Her way is slow, meditative and deliberate. She naturally takes her time. She’s shy… the little sister trying to find her way out of a shell. When she wants your attention she’s thought about it. She’s already spent time processing her goal. That’s when her inner firebird feels free to fly.

That night I’d missed her process. I was too busy. By the time I got it her paper was wrinkled…her eyes told me what I wouldn’t see.

It was late and I’d already endured a bout of casual bickering between my older two during kitchen cleanup. Bespectacled, (because that’s how we mid-lifers roll) and hunkered down deep in my favorite spot on the couch, I dived into my iPad to get a little writing done. I didn’t want to be interrupted. I’m sure my body language screamed “do not enter” but she pushed past the physical and literal road blocks. She wanted to show me something.

I’m sharing a little of my parenting journey with friends at 5 Minutes for Faith. Read the rest here.

Posted in christianity, faith, life, motherhood, relationships, uncategorized - Tagged discipline, one word, parenting, see, slow, word

I Have Decided To Stick With Love : Happy Birthday Martin Luther King Jr.

Jan 15, 2015 3 Comments ~ Written by lisha epperson

I have decided to stick to love…Hate is too great a burden to bear. - Martin Luther King Jr.

I’ve reached for and read this quote countless times – more times than I would have imagined in a single year. It’s been biblical manna, a holy morsel to chew on when the current political or social climate’s left me cold – or hungry. I’m looking for love in scant crops…for beautiful flowers in a barren harvest. Love not hate…love. I have to remember. 2014 was the year of remembering love.

Martin Luther King Jr. would have turned 86 years old today. I wonder what he might think of the world he left behind….his legacy, the dreams he held for a world where you and I, God’s people might squeeze out a hallelujah chorus of “it is well”. Even if we don’t all agree. Might He, be our peace? Race is our country’s thorn in the flesh. The thing we wrestle with – still. Would he sometimes feel discouraged…like me.

Because the girls are still gone and thousands lie dead in the streets with little international outcry over what some have called the deadliest massacre in Nigerian history. In Colorado an NAACP chapter was bombed. And we can’t breathe, and there’s still blood on the streets of Ferguson and a little boy, being a boy, was murdered in cold blood forcing us to cry out again and again Black. Lives. Matter. And then 2 innocent police officers paid the ultimate price….silencing all sides in what sometimes feels like a modern-day civil war. It seems we’re living the ugly remnants of a world divided….still.

But hate is too great a burden to bear.

So love…yes love

Selma, the movie, is in theaters now and middle schoolers around the country can attend a screening free of charge. This segment of the school age population grew up with an African-American president. They’re largely disconnected to the Civil Rights movement and its impact on American history. Martin Luther Kings’ historic effort in securing voting rights for African – Americans is being spread as a message of hope and timely reminder to #staywoke amid fresh reasons to peacefully protest.

Lupita Nyong’o graced People magazines cover as the most beautiful person in the world and gave a gorgeous speech about owning your beauty after her academy award win earlier this year. She spoke for “all the girls who would see her … and feel a little more seen.” I have decided to stick with love.

And Londrell Hall and Ray Mills ran from Atlanta to Ferguson in response to the shooting death of Michael Brown, spurring the movement #runforjustice…I have decided to stick with love

And Malala Yousafzai donated her Nobel Peace prize money to rebuild a school in Gaza…I have decided to stick with love.

And most recently I’ve watched online, the valiant, breathtaking living of Kara Tippetts. Absolutely… I have decided to stick with love.

There is so much more to love. On the anniversary of his birth, rather than laser in on the infinite evil and unexplainable wrong doings let’s hone in on undeserved grace, the mysterious, magical presence of hope and love – which conquers all. Love which cannot be explained or expressed without acknowledgement of the divine…let’s stick with love.

Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. – 1 Corinthians 13:7

Joining the Thursday link-ups of Lyli and Crystal

Posted in christianity, faith, life, relationships, uncategorized - Tagged happy birthday, love, martin luther king jr., selma

Give Me Grace : Encouragement For Your Writing Soul

Jan 10, 2015 31 Comments ~ Written by lisha epperson

I woke up on the couch the other morning. I’ve stayed up late reading the past few nights and on this one my sweet family had covered me with a sleeping bag and turned out the lights. It was perhaps the coldest day of the year in New York and the heater in our living room wasn’t working. I’d fallen asleep lost in the words of Madeline L’Engle, warmed by the truth she shared from this quote by Anton Chekhov.

“You must once and for all give up being worried about success and failures. Don’t let that concern you. It’s your duty to go on working steadily day by day, quite quietly, to be prepared for mistakes,which are inevitable, and for failures.”

My writing soul needs to hear that.

And the timely messages from two friends on voxer “Keep writing”. “Don’t back away from it.”

I’d wanted to write but doubt does a number on me sometimes. I get quiet. Every word gets shut up behind an impenetrable shell of steel. Vaulted.

September McCarthy announced some of the session leaders for the next Raising Generations Today conference this week. I’m one of them. Seeing my face attached to a lineup of so many godly women opened the door for comparison and doubt. I struggled with feeling flawed and unworthy – with wondering if I’d meet expectations.

My writing soul got quiet. My soul gets quiet because I know the weight of words. I know how words can breathe life into a woman crushed by loss, grief….doubt. I know words have the power to reignite dreams. I know words can lead a soul to the very throne of God. My enemy knows that too.

I marinated in this space…feeling defeated. But I shouldn’t. And you shouldn’t either. Maybe that pause isn’t all bad. Behind every holy hard word is a story. And your unique experience makes you the only one to tell it. It’s His job to do the work of releasing it. He’ll do that through you. He’ll forge a path. You…do the work of being committed through quiet preparation – through prayer.

This year, as you make plans to accept invitations, ask about opportunities…put yourself out there in ways that call for increased faith – let this be encouragement for your writing soul.

The stilling of your soul is a time to get closer to God. He doesn’t give us a spirit of fear. And those feelings are all about the “no you can’t, you’ll fail. You…should be afraid.” And That’s not God. Mark the moment of silence as the beginning of a journey. God promises dreams and witty inventions. Open yourself to His creative ability. Build yourself up in His righteousness and qualifications only He can give. It’s more important than ever to discern His voice and the only way to do that is to get quiet so you can hear.

“I will climb up into my watchtower…” – Habakkuk 2:1

“Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” Luke 5:16

Jesus made it a habit to steal away with His father and the Prophet Habakkuk used wisdom when he made it his business to get alone with God. They didn’t resist but rather, invited this time of solitude.

This time around I won’t resist the setting apart for a stretch of silence. I’ll use the time to hear. To remember – to prepare for the birthing of something beautiful.

Enough talk for the night.
He is laboring in me;
I need to be silent
for a while,
worlds are forming
in my heart.
Meister Eckhart

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight…#GiveMeGrace

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Posted in blogging, christianity, faith, Give Me Grace, life, uncategorized - Tagged #GiveMeGrace, Anton Chekhov, encouragement, Habbakuk 2:1, Luke 5:16, Madeline L'Engle, Words, writing soul

Give Me Grace : a slow walk into a new year

Jan 03, 2015 25 Comments ~ Written by lisha epperson

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. – Isaiah 43:19

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” – Lamentations 3:22-24

I can’t explain the feeling of hope that overshadows everything at the beginning of a new year. Wiping the slate clean at the end of a season of doubt feels right. Surely there’s hope, life even. It pushed through the cracks in a stable to stream the most powerful light over 2000 years ago. That same light filters through my bedroom window every morning. Soft shafts of light tickle my face, waking me up to hope. At least for that moment, every thing feels new.

Each year is marked by the completion of the earths rotation around the sun and hope…morphs into a new configuration of numbers. But it’s not an ending. It’s the glory of again. Again God positions our hearts with purpose and intention. He aligns our hearts for redemption. With hearts set to believe, we try again. We hope.

My one word for the year is slow. Think fluid, easy…thoughtful. I’m aligning myself with the unforced rhythms of grace that herald the promise of a melodious new song. I’m asking god to grant the favor of an unhurried grace. A steady stream of growth marked by a seasoned wisdom. I want a grace that’s gradual, unrushed…a lilting adagio to listen to all night.

We live in a world of lightning speed connections further ignited by subliminal voices telling us to do and be more. All the time. We receive it in hurried sound bytes that suggest we operate in performance mode all day. I want something different. I want an easy immersion in everything lovely. And I want time when life feels hard. I want to slow down enough to cry when I feel broken – and not feel bad about it. I want to stop long enough to recharge…restart.

To be clear this isn’t about a slothful season of unproductivity. It’s a time of being selective and choosing a pace that right for you. It’s a time of saying yes when His voice calls – a time for enjoying the clarity and freedom of saying no.

So right now in your part of the world. With your family and work, your relationships and plans, your frustrations and delights. Might I invite you to join me in a quiet slowing. To consider living dreamy. Measured. Deliberate. To breathe soul deep. To linger when necessary, to flip the script on last.

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight…#GiveMeGrace

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Posted in christianity, faith, Give Me Grace, life, uncategorized - Tagged #GiveMeGrace, grace, hope, new, one word, slow

Top 5 : Remembering {a year end review}

Dec 31, 2014 11 Comments ~ Written by lisha epperson

What a year it’s been. Actually I’m glad to see it come to a close. Let’s just say it wasn’t a top 5 year. Not for marriage or parenting or finances. It’s gone by in a blur of just good enough. I’m not proud of it but I’m grateful for grace that pushed me through from month to month. Sometimes it’s about survival. This is the year where the goal was getting by.

I’ve felt like a newly shorn sheep all raw and exposed. It was a year of being uncomfortable and naked in a way I know God will redeem for His glory. But in the meantime…y’all I’m naked and tender and so very fragile.

There’s a reason for that. Remember my one word … Yeah that one. Well my one word “discipline” demands a do over. I did well until August. And then…”discipline” kicked my butt. In the fall I confused discipline with over scheduling. Disciplined people do everything, right? I said yes too many times and committed myself in a way that I couldn’t sustain. I tried too hard. I gained 5 lbs. I stayed up too late every night and settled into being cranky mommy. Nobody likes cranky mommy. God put a stop to that with the only thing that would work. He strong armed me with a spiritual headlock. And then the crashing silence of a sucker punch. A dozen stars circled somewhere above my head and all those spinning plates fell. Woman down. He got my attention through force. It worked. I give up. I’m learning to enjoy the grace of slow. I’m doing discipline differently.

I’ve shaken off most of that funk and look forward to a year of slow. I’m at the head of this remedial class but it’s clear I’m doing the super senior thing. What should have taken 4 years to complete is taking five. I know the faculty, they know me – too well. The feigned worship of bright-eyed freshmen lets me know it’s time to go. Discipline for dummies is lame but I’ll own up to being here. My new word complements the word I struggled with last year. So there’s grace in that. Living slow may help me conquer the discipline demon once and for all. Maybe it won’t. There’s grace for that too.

It wasn’t all bad. There was the joy of watching my children work hard to meet personal goals and a bunch of beautiful firsts {a ballet class, a solo subway ride, a haircut and a few baby teeth}. Big Daddy and I still share the same warped sense of humor. Eruptions of healing laughter when the stress of marriage feels anything but funny is a huge gift. There was travel and a check and opportunities to write more. It wasn’t all bad. There was grace and God is good. I’m still here…I get another chance to figure this thing out. I get another chance to wake up to the grace of living slow.

I opened an email from MailChimp to learn my top 5 posts of the year. Mailchimp compiled a list of the posts that got the most views in 2014. I was a little surprised by what made the list. I’m listening to what that says and figuring out what steps I’ll take to work that information into my plans for next year but honestly it’s been organic around here. I write and share what God places on my heart to share. I let God push the pen and go with that.

I appreciate the numbers behind the work but thought, wouldn’t it be cool to share my top 5. The 5 posts I enjoyed writing the most – where I felt God digging in and doing His work. In the spirit of paying it forward I’ll also share 5 posts I read that stilled my breath, reminding me of the great work God’s doing in all of us.

We can have fun in the comments section with this. Share your favorite posts. To keep it short and sweet lets limit it to 1 you’ve written and 1 you’ve read. I’m looking forward to this.

Blessings and favor to all! You were part of the grace that brought me through. Happy New Year!