At the top righthand corner of my giant to-do list is a smaller list of “Goals” I jotted down since before Christmas. Things I’ve been thinking about for quite some time.

Goals:
De-clutter.
Simplify.
Be all there.
Write.
Live.
Love.
Get outside.
Fear less.

As I’ve tried to come up with a “word” or theme for the year, I keep coming back to what sums up all the rest: live. As in, live this life.

I’ve been thinking about it often since writing that post about John Evans.

I’ve looked up definitions (because that’s just what this word nerd does), and a few I like are:
to enjoy being alive;
to exhibit vigor, gusto, enthusiasm;
to be thoroughly absorbed by or involved with;
to experience firsthand; to have a rich live experience.

And a few synonyms: delight, abide, flourish (bear fruit), bloom (opposite of wither), revel (celebrate).

I’m an observer. An introvert. And that’s okay. But sometimes I forget to live. I worry, I fear, I plan, but I don’t live.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve stifled emotions entirely too much. I don’t even know how to stop stifling them. I hold back part of myself, even from Ken. Maybe it’s some sort of self-protection mechanism, but I’m tired of it.

It’s been worse lately because of some things that are breaking my heart. My kids have noticed it, although I haven’t talked to them much about it. Ken knows and I have talked to him about it. Most of it, anyway. Some things I can’t quite put into words yet.

But I don’t want to keep holding back.

This year, 2012, I want to start living.

I want to participate more than I observe.
I want to be mentally “all there” when I’m with family or friends or in quiet time with God.
I want to love more, and better.
I want to get outside, enjoy creation, and get fit.
I want to overcome fears that hold me back from living.
I want to live this life for all it’s worth, for all the days I have.
I want to live for Jesus who saved me from myself and redeemed this life of mine.

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I’ve started reading a blog called People of the Second Chance. One of the features on this blog is a campaign called “Labels Lie.” Though not a specifically Christian blog, their tagline is “Unleashing Radical Grace Everyday for Every One.” They’re seeking to reach those that might never venture into a typical church, those who’ve been labeled things like “Junkie” or “Bad Mother” or “Ex-Con” or “Alcoholic.” I’m a recipient of God’s amazing and radical grace, so I like this idea, regardless of whether these folks call themselves Christians.

Since discovering this blog, I’ve been thinking about labels, and how they affect those they’ve been attached to. For instance, “Foster Child.” This is a label I’ve seen up close, and it follows kids around, bringing all sorts of bad expectations from those they meet. Most heartbreaking of all, it can become something that makes them expect the worst of themselves.

Even “good” labels can be difficult. A dear friend of mine is married to a pastor. While she really is wonderful in the role of pastor’s wife, it too often becomes a label. People (in her neighborhood, in other ministries she’s involved in, etc) tend to stop being themselves around her as soon as they find out she’s a “Pastor’s Wife,” and they place unfair expectations on her.

I’ve worn many labels — both good and bad — and I’m very glad to rid of most of them. Nowadays, I have titles rather than labels. Wife, mother, homeschooler, adoption advocate, friend, daughter: I consider them all important, and all blessings, but none of these totally encompass who I am.

One of my recent daily devotions (not related to the POTSC site) spoke of how the disciple John referred to himself as “the one whom Jesus loved.” Out of all the titles he could’ve chosen for himself, he must’ve treasured this one above all else. This was John’s identity, and it’s ours, too. Whether or not we choose to accept Christ’s love, He loves us just the same. This label, “the one whom Jesus loves,” is the only label I want to wear. If I take this label to heart, it will permeate all aspects of my life; it will breathe life and love and purpose into being wife, mother, homeschooler, friend, daughter…

A friend recently gave me what is quite possibly the best compliment I have ever received. She said, “each time I am around you I fall more in love with Jesus.” Whoa. That doesn’t feel like me, but if I fully embrace wearing that label of “the one Jesus loves,” then I would simply ooze His love to friends, family, and anyone I interact with. That’s what I want. I want to be so wrapped up in a love affair with Jesus that He is the center of my life every moment. I think that’s what authentic faith looks like. That’s what I want my life to look like.

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Just two weeks before his weary body gave into the decade-long battle with the cancer that had eaten his body and his bones from the inside out and caused pain most of us cannot even imagine, a young man named John wrote these words in his journal:

“I love You, Lord. I love how You give me words when I have none. You give me the lyrics when my song is dull or weak. I love singing for for You, to You. Praising your name – I wish my voice and fingers would allow me all day long.”

I didn’t know John well, but I am forever changed by his example. As this week marks the first anniversary of his passing, I want to share a little about John with you, too. I’ve been wanting to write this post for a long time, but it’s been difficult choosing which of my many thoughts to put into this post.

I knew of John and his family through mutual friends, and heard about John’s battle with a rare form of bone cancer diagnosed when he was just ten years old. One Sunday morning about two years ago, my family ended up sitting a row behind John’s family in church. I knew from our mutual friend that he was dealing with new tumors aggressively attacking his bones, and that he was in a great deal of pain, particularly in his arms and legs, so I was surprised to see him in church. This had been one of those mornings when I was grumbling about having a headache, and I didn’t really want to go to church. I was there begrudgingly. But John wanted so badly to worship in the fellowship of other believers that he was there despite his pain — and when the worship music began, John stood on his painful legs and held his tumor-riddled arms high in worship. I have never been so dramatically humbled. That was the first time I met John Evans.

Everyone who ever met him seems to have a John Evans story. He was a good-looking and polite young man with a firm handshake, a genuine smile, a direct gaze, and a strong personality. But there was something more than that, something hard to pinpoint or describe; I believe it was the light of Jesus shining though.

In church one Sunday morning, the pastor interviewed John as part of the sermon. John talked openly about a time in his teens that brought him truly and desperately to the feet of Jesus, when he had become addicted to pain medication. That low was when he had fully given his life to Christ. As he continued to talk about living with cancer, dealing with pain, and facing death, John said he didn’t want to waste whatever time he had to live. He referred to Hebrews 12, and said,

“We are all terminal… If you aren’t running the race with all you’ve got, why bother running at all?”

My friendship with John’s mom Kimberly began when she saw a post on my blog about a few kids available for adoption. One was Lindsey’s friend Deanna, then almost 17 years old. Kimberly felt a nudge from God about adopting her, and called me to discuss it. When she brought the idea to her family to consider, John was enthusiastically in favor of doing so. He loved Deanna as a sister even before he met her, and they seemed to have a special bond. Five months later, Deanna’s adoption was finalized by phone while the family sat in John’s bed because he had become too sick to leave the house.

Although John loved life, his illness made him eager “go home.” When he finally did, his family was heartbroken to lose John — but they were thankful he was no longer in pain, and that he was finally in the arms of the Savior he loved so much.

There were tears at John’s memorial service, but mostly, there was worship, and there were many good memories and testimonies shared about John’s life.

The worship team who playing at the service had visited John a week or two before. They didn’t plan to sing on this visit, but just stop by to lift his spirits a little. Kimberly explained to them that John’s bones were as porous as coral, being eaten away by tumors. But John asked Brett, the lead singer, to pick up his guitar and play. So they sang, and John worshiped with his hands held high. When he couldn’t hold them up any longer, he asked his dad to help hold them up. Brett said that heaven came down to John’s room that day, and it was an experience he’d never forget.

One long-time friend shared about a time John came to visit him at college. John wandered off, wearing jeans and a cowboy hat (but no shoes) to look for a quiet place to read his Bible. When John’s friend found him hours later, he was surrounded by a crowd, leading an impromptu Bible study with a group of students he’d never met before.

Through tears, John’s girlfriend told about one of their first dates, when they went to a worship concert and John kneeled at her feet to pray for her. She shared from the letters John had written to remind her of her worth in Christ. He told her, “The King is enthralled by your beauty.“

John’s parents read excerpts from his journals. His dad said it’s usually the parents who teach the children, but he felt that in his case, it was the other way around.

“I believe my time is short and I need to make the best use of my time as I am able. I know I need to be constantly pursuing You so I can lead others to You. Only through You can I do this, and I believe You are faithful. You will stretch me and help me reach out my short arms. My God is my guide, I can’t get lost. He is my light. He gives me armor; I can’t be hurt. My family and friends will fight along side of me. When the battle has been won, I will lay down. I will kneel and bow my head so I get no honor, no glory but to the One who gave us glory- the One who is mighty to save, Creator of all things- the One who is Love, who lives in me and directs me! God, You are so good!” Journal entry, Oct. 15 (less than one month before John’s passing)

The following week, Louie Giglio from Passion City Church gave an awesome sermon inspired by John: Fully Alive. I encourage you to take the time to listen to it.

After John’s death, his family chose to keep his facebook page active, and they occasionally share words from his journal or from some of his favorite devotions. But what is even more moving is the stories people share on his facebook wall: stories of how John touched their lives through his vivacious way of living and loving. John never backed down from the speaking the truth, sometimes so boldly it was humorous, but it was always done in love.

John taught me most of all that a life well-lived really can make an eternal difference. John was only twenty-one when he died, but his influence continues on. How many folks live decades longer than John, yet never make an eternal impact on this world?

Will you be there with John in heaven? If you’re not sure, please pray about it. I know that John would be delighted to greet you and call you friend, even if he never knew you on this earth.

And if you are sure about your salvation, are you really living your life? Are you running your race with all you’ve got? I’m not, yet; not really. But because of John Evans, I’ve seen what it looks like to live.

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There is so much going on right now that breaks my heart. Things that cannot be explained outside of knowing that we live in a broken, fallen world. I have been in tears so many times this week for so many different reasons. I’m reminded yet again that there are things that I am simply incapable of understanding this side of heaven. There is little I can do other than pray.

I have so many things I feel the need to write about, but my thoughts are swarming too much to do so coherently right now. Some of it will take a lot of thought and prayer as to how to share about it.

God is good. He can work all things together for the good of those who love Him. (Romans 8:28)

The Believer’s Triumph (Romans 8:31-39)

What then are we to say about these things?

If God is for us, who is against us?

He did not even spare His own Son, but offered Him up for us all . . .

. . . Christ Jesus is the One who died, but even more, has been raised;

He also is at the right hand of God and intercedes for us.

Who can separate us from the love of Christ?

Can affliction or anguish or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?

. . . No, in all these things we are more than victorious through Him who loved us.

For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing will have the power to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord!

Amen.

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Today I celebrate another year of life. Today, at 11:58AM, I’ll be thirty-eight years old. And I don’t mind telling you my age because I’m happy about it! I’m quite possibly healthier than I’ve ever been: my abs may not be what they once were, but my asthma has been under control, my allergies haven’t been bad, I’m more active, and eating much healthier than I did years ago.

And those silver hairs? They just add a little sparkle. {wink}

As my birthdays add up, I realize more and more what a blessing each year is. And for that matter, what a blessing each day is! I try never to take my life for granted. When I wake each morning, I try to make my first coherent thought a prayer of gratitude for another day with my loved ones and another day to let Christ live through me. I want my life to count; someday when I die, I don’t want it said generically that I was “a good person.” That’s all fine and good, but I want to make an eternal difference in the lives around me.

I want to live each day with the goal before me of someday hearing my Savior say, “Well done, good and faithful servant!”

Do I really live that way each day? Sadly, no. But I know this hope is perfectly in line with God’s will for me, so He will help me make this a reality as I continue to seek Him, and to grow in my relationship with Christ.

That little sentence sounds like the perfect excuse to throw in a fun photo referencing Philippians 4:13…

(Yep, that’s me; we like to do our own little recreations of famous old art, and this interpretation of Rosie the Riveter was just perfect for retro-loving me!)

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Just a quick post…

You simply must read this post by Dana at Roscommon Acres. It touched me more than I can even explain, and it’s very Easter-appropriate:

“Is God Good?“

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A friend and I met for coffee yesterday morning, and enjoyed one of our typical discussions covering a wide range of topics that all in some way focused on living out our faith. (One of the many reasons I love this friend!) In this conversation, she said that when she was younger she wrongly believed that there was a whole lot of ambiguous gray area in life, but she has now learned that everything either honors God — or it doesn’t.

This applies to truly EVERYthing. Every decision. Every action. Some things are more obvious than others, perhaps, but even the so-called “little” things matter. Choices may be irrelevant (e.g.: which flip-flops to wear), but never ambiguous.

How I dress, what I eat, where I go, the words I speak, how I manage money — all of these things either honor God, or they don’t.

I must teach my children that every choice they make will either honor God or it won’t. Believing that some things are morally ambiguous is a dangerous and slippery slope. This is one of the many areas where they cannot listen to what the world believes. The sooner they are able to grasp this concept, the better, especially as they reach the age when they begin to make many of their decisions on their own.

There is no gray.

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Sometimes God speaks in a still, small voice…
but sometimes, he has to hit me in the head with a [metaphorical] hammer.

(I guess I’m a bit hard-headed sometimes.)

Recently, I had one of those hammer sorts of days.

I’ve been praying for a while now about something in particular, but even when I did hear from God on it, I’d do a really fine job of rationalizing things to downplay what He’d told me.

But I now have total clarity about it. This subject is one that affects Ken, too, and although it’s been on my mind more than his over the past few months, he was hit with the very same loving hammer of clarity — which is yet another way it was so very clear and compelling to us both.

So despite fears, despite questions, despite not having the details (or even the time-frame), and despite what anyone else may think, we’re moving forward — whatever that means. To quote Forrest Gump…

“And that’s all I have to say about that.”

(At least for now.)

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This week, a friend spent her youngest son’s birthday at the cemetery instead of at a birthday party. It’s the third year they’ve “celebrated” in this way.

This week, I realized that my dad’s condition isn’t getting better.

This week, both of my daughters shared their pain with me, pain due to sins of the past that neither of them had anything to do with.

This week, old pain I thought I’d forgotten resurfaced, and I had to battle with forgiveness once again.

This week, I was overwhelmed at the brokenness of the world I live in.

And then stumbled across this quote on a day I desperately needed to hear it:

“If you think of this world as a place intended simply for our happiness, you find it quite intolerable: think of as a place of training and correction and it’s not so bad.”
- CS Lewis (from God in the Dock)

While this realization doesn’t take away the pain of a broken world, it does give much-needed perspective.

For those who have surrendered to Christ, this world is NOT all there is. For the follower of Christ, this truth is what gives us the kind of joy that transcends reason and circumstance, and what gives us hope in the midst of brokenness.

This ruler of this world (Satan) tries to convince us that life is all about being happy; that we should raise our children to be “happy” rather than Christlike; that if we are not wealthy and successful, we must be doing something wrong. But those are lies from the pit of hell.

“Then He said to them all, ‘If anyone wants to come with Me, he must deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow Me.” – Luke 9:23

“In the same way, therefore, every one of you who does not say good-bye to all his possessions cannot be My disciple.” – Luke 14:33

Contrary to what many preach or profess, Christianity does not guarantee health and wealth and success. In fact, Jesus tells us we may lose everything we have in order to follow Him. Jesus says we have to be willing to give up all our possessions, that we must put Him first above even our own families, that we may not even have a home if we follow Him, and that following Him means we no longer have the right to determine the direction of our own lives… but He is enough: Jesus Christ is worthy of all our affection.

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