Thriving...in Spite of It

There is something in us all that is drawn to a garden. We spend hours on Pinterest, hundreds at Home Depot, and thousands on vacations and ventures, in search of finding or creating a little piece of paradise, where we can sink our toes into the cool grass and breathe in the fragrances that make us think, consciously or not, "This must be what Heaven is like." This month, we will explore the root cause of such quests (no pun intended), by unraveling the mysterious connection between us and three particular gardens (in the Bible). I was evidently taking a nap or hiding with a book somewhere when the green thumbs were passed out, so every season involves clearing away the wilted or crunchy attempts at gardening and replacing them with fresh unsuspecting little plants and blooms to improve my home's curb appeal (more like HGTV, less like the Munster's house). Nevertheless, I'm still THAT person who slows down to take pictures of fields of wildflowers, or, on ...

Tag, you’re it! Joshua turned from the surging of the Jordan river, overflowing its banks that day, and faced the crowd of millions of Israelites, all looking at him in anxious expectation. “What now?” they seemed to say, in unison. They had come so far, and been through so much, since, after a shock-and-awe show of force by God, Pharaoh had finally released them from generations of slavery. Moses had led them out, and led them through the desert, through miracles and tragedies, mountains and valleys, until, at last, here they all stood, literally on the brink of entering the promised land. Moses was gone, and now Joshua stood in his place, once again, on the edge of a river--a barrier between where they stood and where they belonged. Yet, today, the river seemed even more imPASSible and impossible than the Red Sea crossing that began their journey. This time, there were no soldiers in hot pursuit. There was no Pharoah waiting to drag them back into slavery. Their enemies were left so ...

Every day, in some way or another, we seem to come up short. Our output exceeds our income, and we are "in the red" when it comes to so many things, such as time, energy, money...even enthusiasm. Being tapped out seems to have become the norm, as we chase every opportunity, pursue countless friendships, enlist ourselves in every new cause, and rack up accomplishments, jam-packing our resumes, calendars, and Facebook friends list until we don't have a single spare moment to ourselves. From the outside, it looks like a "full life;" on the inside, it feels pretty empty. How can something so empty feel so heavy? First of all, "more" isn't necessarily "better." Have you ever been behind a group of tween girls ordering their drinks in a coffee shop? They like the fru-fru girly coffees, with lots of sugar, calories, and every possible option, extra this, extra that...Aside from taking FIVE-EVER (I just learned this term from my daughter-...

I think we all experience those moments when we feel like a big fat fraud (not intending to allude to my weight struggles, here, honestly). Those moments when you turn around from your accomplishments and accolades to face your fears and failures, and there you are--just a girl. Nobody special. The underdog. Long before King David was king, he was a ruddy little forgotten youngest brother. In 1 Samuel chapter 17, you can find an account of the day when the illustrious prophet arrived at Jesse's house to anoint the next king. One by one, Jesse proudly lined up his big, strong, handsome sons--educated, accomplished, well-trained for battle...if they had been sons in this day and age, the proud dad would have certainly had racks and racks of towering, gleaming trophies lining the walls of his man cave--scores of monuments to the big strapping boys' accomplishments. One by one, the prophet Samuel looked them over. One by one, he declared, "No, this is not the one."...

It’s Monday again, and —-wait, how did you just react to that? Did your shoulders square up or droop? Did you take a deep, invigorating breath, or expel a sigh? Whatever you’re facing this week, whether it’s the fire-breathing dragon in the corner office, the mean girl in the next cubicle or the inadequacies you see when you look in the mirror, the fact that you’re facing the same ongoing battles over and over doesn’t make them any easier, or the outcome any more certain.  Some days you still feel like the tiny 6th-grader, overloaded with heavy books, forgetting your locker combination, getting bullied out of your lunch money, and overwhelmed by the crowd of boisterous over-achievers. There you are, just trying to get by without being run over, caught up and pulled down in the undertow. Much like the chaos and turbulence of a hallway crowded with middle-schoolers hyped up on sodas and hormones, some of the biggest rivers we have to cross are overwhelming, mind-boggling and equal...

The other day, I was zipping from room to room, executing a quick mid-week tidy-up on the house with Olympian-like exertion, minus the grace, coordination and spandex. It was one of those spontaneous flurries of activity that bursts forth from a state of mind that’s more agitated than active—one of those moments when you lift your eyes from the task at hand to face a gargantuan to-do list, towering over you like Godzilla. With Godzilla in front of you, and a little housework behind you, it’s a no-brainer which one you had rather face: the smaller dragon, of course.  So, off I went, in all the fervor and fever of productive procrastination*, cheerfully confident in the forthcoming victory over the little dragon. I was slayin’ it. I usually spend very little time in the formal living and dining rooms, situated in the front of the house, beyond the blessed stairs, as I prefer the comfort of the breakfast table and easy chair in rooms situated in the back of the house, near the kit...

It's Monday, again, and in the afterglow of a weekend of wonderful worship and refreshing family fun, we plunge back into the doldrums of daily duties with revived enthusiasm. Then it hits--the feeling of dread, restlessness, irrelevance. However delightful and favorable your workplace may be, you're probably feeling it today--like a kid stomping back to school after a four-day weekend, sullen-faced, heavy-hearted, and distracted. Mom used to call it the "don't want-to's." Yes, that's it--don't want to be here, don't want to do this---"can't adult today," as my daughter, working her way through college, now says. The expression has come full circle, evolving into Millineal-ese, but the feeling equally familiar to us all. We all occasionally have a sense of not belonging--or at least, not belonging  here , and it has little to do with situational discontent, especially after a break from your usual rolling mountain of duties. The ...