have you ever told your 'story'?

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Lately it seems like there has been a not so subtle push for me to tell "my story."

As in, I have to.
Not write -- actually speak.  Verbalize.  Out loud.  (FYI: Speaking to groups - without a script - is not my strong suit.)

We joined a community group at our church a couple months ago, and we are now taking turns during our Thursday night gatherings telling our "stories"  --  about our lives and how God has worked in them thus far.  Perhaps about events and/or people who have had an influence on our spiritual journeys. To get to know each other on a deeper level.

Then my sister-in-law Jen recently attended a Christian women's conference in Dallas called Hope Spoken, and in her recap of the weekend it seems that there were so many women telling their stories, or testimonials, of how God has moved in their lives, through joy and hardship.   A few of the speakers even stressed the importance for the women in attendance to share their "story" - whatever that may be. Just like I am being asked to do in my community group.

I'll confess, I am a little at a loss of how to tell "my story" as it relates to my faith in front of a group of men and women.  I've written the "my life series" here on the blog, in which I share a little bit about my beliefs.  I have wrote a few other times about how important Jesus is to my life.  But nothing that I feel qualifies as a "testimonial."

At first I was really excited about the task!  I loathe small talk and enjoy deep questions and sharing real feelings.  But then it came time for me to figure out what I was going to say when it was my turn to tell my story and I basically my excitement transformed into fear and panic.  Forced reflection on my life made me feel grossly inadequate to tell any inspiring story.

Plus, I'm an introvert.  I don't usually throw all the intimate details of my life out on the table.  Especially to people I don't know very well.  I would say I could count on one hand the number of people I am comfortable being 100% transparent with.  1) Jesus 2) my husband 3) my sister.  Yep, that is it.

Yet that is what I am being asked to do.
So I have been making lots of excuses, including:

"Nothing substantial has happened in my life worthy of qualifying as a 'testimonial of faith.'"  

"I'm not a good speaker or naturally 'likable' so no one will want to hear my story." 

"I'm ashamed of certain parts of my life -- I might be looked at as a bad example of a Christian and all the 'good Christians' will judge me." 

"I have built a protective wall around myself/my heart.  I feel safe there." 

"I can't put my faith into words, or my relationship with Jesus.  No one will understand it."

I have written a bunch of notes about what I'd like to say, but I feel like the "surface level version" is boring and trite, and a "transparent version" is too much to share...it makes me uncomfortable...and I fear it will make others uncomfortable, too.

So often I hear people, mostly women, blurt out the personal details of their life with complete ease,  and while I admire their transparency it tends to make me add more bricks to my wall.  It forces me to acknowledge how NOT comfortable I am talking about the ways in which God has worked in my life.  I feel like the way the way God has used me for his good is not exactly the typical feel-good, inspiring stories people like to hear.

Some people have these amazing stories of cancer survival, near-death experiences that strengthened their faith, or perhaps endured the heartache of miscarriage (in the female blogging world especially this is a familiar story that really seems to be a witness and light to other women.)

I have none of these things.  What I do have is a history of mistakes and plenty of personal demons, all of which Satan is probably using to prevent me from speaking about my faith.

Depression.  That one is a regular battle I fight.  Then there is the constant feeling of 'not fitting in' probably stemming from plenty of verbal bullying and backstabbing over the years from other females, many who called themselves my friends...leading to a distrust of female friendships.  A distorted body image. Oh, and guilt from a past in which I did not follow God's plan for my life and lived the way I wanted to...with a million excuses to back that up.

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These are real issues, important issues, that I think many women face...but sometimes I feel they just aren't very inspiring to write/hear about.

Or I feel like it is more a story for a therapist, not a church small group expecting this beautiful story of faith.

But maybe I am not the only one with a messy story that is pretty much still writing itself?  Maybe it doesn't matter that I'm not some inspiring heroine that makes everyone stand up and start clapping.   Maybe there are others who can relate to my form of heartbreak.   Maybe it is okay for me to still be getting to the climax of my story, rather already in the lovely denouement?

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Turns out the first night I was supposed to share several people were sick so our meeting was cancelled. The following week I had a fever and sore throat so I wasn't able to attend.

Let's just say I am grateful for an extra week to reflect on this.

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Have you ever spoken of your faith journey out loud to a group of people?  If you were asked to tell your "story" or "personal testimonial" of how God has worked in your life - would it be easy?

nine loves

I think the word love is tossed around a lot.  By everyone, including me.  Really casually.   "I love this picture!"  "I love your hair!"  "I love wine!" I say things like this all the time without even thinking about the word.  Better to say "love" a lot, than "hate," right?

I've done posts about "loves" before, including beauty products, baby items, paint colors...but this time, I'll take it a bit more seriously.  Some of what I write you may find trite, or not agree with, and that is okay.  I am okay with differences and disagreements - just keeping it honest.

I decided to think about what truly makes my heart melt.  What brings tears to my eyes when I even contemplate its absence?  What makes life meaningful for me?

Nine loves, in no particular order:

1. My family...I love them all, but specifically writing here about the one I was born into. Dad, mom, brothers and sister.

this was almost four years ago...the fam has grown since then!

there is nothing like having a sister.

I love that I have siblings, and even though we all are scattered in different parts of the country now, the times when we do see each other I feel the love. I don't know if everyone feels this way about their parents and siblings.  I just know I am forever grateful that I have these relationships.  That I have the memories I have growing up with such a close family.   Those moments growing up - Christmas Eve, every Sunday crammed into a church pew together, camping trips, vacations, and even just simple times, like at supper, eating together.  Those moments are what makes me want to have more babies - my experience with family.  Well, at least one more baby.  Someday.

2. My husband...this guy.

The fact that God led us to each other and made us for each other overwhelms me every time I think about it.  Sometimes I come across letters {yes, handwritten letters, despite the fact that we both had email} he wrote me in college, while we were broken up.  Just telling me what he was up to, things he was excited about, people he met.  In these letters he would crack jokes, keep it really casual, and at the same time, without really saying it, let me know that he still cared about me.  Every time I read these letters I sob.  Literally break down with emotion.  Why?  Because I think about how at any time during one of those breakups he could have met someone else and fallen in love with her.  Or just gotten sick of writing me letters.  But those things didn't happen, and I am thankful for that every day.

3. Work...I know what you are thinking, no one loves work.  But I do.  Work gives me a sense of purpose, a goal, and keeps me focused.  You know what 'they' say about idle hands?  I believe that.  I particularly love working as a stay-at-home mama.  Don't get me wrong:  I loved working outside the home, too.  There were only two jobs I held that I didn't like - anything fast food-related and when I was a high school teacher  -- the rest were awesome.  I was a retail worker and manager for ten years, and then worked in the temporary staffing field for three years.  I loved the people, dressing stylishly for work every day, making money and how busy I was.  Sometimes I miss having a job outside the home...but then I think about how much I love what I do.  I genuinely love "homemaking."  I think this word conjures up different images for different people.   For me specifically, being a stay-at-home-mama and homemaker {two separate aspects of my job} Mama means: making sure baby feels safe, teaching baby, loving baby, nourishing baby, setting an example for baby, keeping baby clean.  Being a homemaker {to me} means: keeping the house tidy/organized, cleaning the house regularly,  providing healthy and delish food in said home, staying within our financial budget, being a helpful/loving wife, making the house a home, keeping myself healthy and happy so that I can do all these things.   I am certainly not successful every day at all of these things -- but I like striving to be the best at what I do.  As with any job, I make goals, prioritize, hold myself to high standards, and reward myself when I deserve it!  {Glass of wine each night?  Don't mind if I do! Hubby takes baby while I spend Sunday afternoon shopping or a Thursday night out with girlfriends? Um, yes!} Also, as with any job, I have to devise new and more effective ways of doing things, manage my time wisely, adapt to changes, etc. I love work because it makes me think, makes me extend myself, puts me outside my own head, and it is rewarding, whether financially or otherwise.

4. My kiddo...this guy.

I always thought - well, before I had a baby - that I could never love a person as much as my husband.  Even after I had the baby I worried that I wouldn't have enough love for both.  That my marriage would suffer, or I would be a bad, selfish mama.  As time went by, ever so quickly, I realized that your capacity for love expands a thousand-fold when you have children.  You become more loving, not only toward your little one, but for other people and other babies.  It is hard to explain...but I think most parents know how I feel.

5. Jesus.  As someone who deals with anger and depression issues, I can tell you this one thing:  I could not have this life I have today without my love and faith in Jesus Christ, and His love for me.  I would be an angry, sad, shriveled little nothing without this love.  I would be lost and broken.  I would be literally cut and bruised.  I would not look at the future with joy and calm and peace.  Without this specific love there would only be me and this world, and that is a disturbing and lonely thought.   No matter what your beliefs or who/what you put your faith in -- I hope it makes you feel this kind of love.

6. Pregnancy.  I simply love the process of making a baby.   Okay, I'm not just referring to the act of sex {which is kind of, well, awesome} but the start-to-finish process of creating human life.  Controversial, maybe, but I believe life begins at conception.  I believed this before I had a baby, and am even more passionate in this belief now.   After feeling my body change completely only weeks after conception.   After hearing the heartbeat, strong and steady, when he was only a teeny tiny little speck on the radar.  After seeing arms and legs and fingers waving, at 12 weeks.   Thinking, that is my baby.  That is, without a doubt, a human life.

Source: jesustotheworld.tumblr.com via Greta on Pinterest

 I don't write this to convince anyone of anything - just to express what I personally am convinced of.  Also, I don't write this because my pregnancy was a breeze, all roses and sunshine and gloriousness.  Nope, it was your pretty standard, nauseous constantly for the first half, pretty uncomfortable for the second half, kind of pregnancy.  I am thankful that there were no complications, but I definitely didn't escape most of the symptoms.  I still loved it.  Yay for babymaking!

enjoying the thirty-six week bump.

7. Being alone.  If you know me, you know I need my space.  I am an introvert.  I love quiet, personal time.  No matter if I am running, writing, shopping, or even something trivial, like the dishes, I place a high value on my alone time.  I think a lot, meditate, plan and pray during this time.  When I am deprived of it, I get agitated, at best.  Of course, there are many times I do genuinely enjoy socializing and can be very talkative, engaging, outgoing...but I prefer these social interactions to be well-planned out and sporadic.  I enjoy them more that way.

Source: google.com via Lacey on Pinterest

8. Fresh air.   One of the reasons I love running, camping, and hiking is because it gets me outside.  I blame my Dad for this.  He ripped us out of Mom's arms at the age of three and took us out into the wilderness....and all four of his kids became nature lovers.   I am forever indebted to him for that.

Source: thegiftsoflife.tumblr.com via Greta on Pinterest

9. Movement.  I think the bodily function that would be the hardest for me to lose would be the ability to walk.  I am constantly moving.  I find it quite hard to rest.  My mind especially.  But being able to run and be active calms my mind.  I hope I never have to deal with long-term lack of movement...but I realize it could happen, so I try every day not to take my body for granted.

Source: Uploaded by user via Greta on Pinterest

Well, there are my deep thoughts for the week.  

What do you love?

Linking up again here...

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book review: one thousand gifts by ann voskamp

The book One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp was given to me as a Christmas gift from my sis-in-law Jen.  {not sure if she had read it but told me various friends had highly recommended it.}

The very night I was given the book I read about ten pages and, after several bouts of tears,  I had to put it down.   It started slow...and it was depressing, particularly for a new mama.  {spoiler alert: stories of children dying tragically.}  I didn't like it.

Six months later I picked it up again.   This time I gave it more than ten pages.  I gave it fifty - and that was all it took to get me hooked.  To move me.  She is a mother of six, on a farm, present day, homeschooling, tired, searching for meaning.

She finds it - in thankfulness.  The secret to a full life?  Being thank-full.

She writes a lot about the 'hurry' of life.  Rushing through and missing the little things that God wants us to notice and praise Him for.

The gifts.  Not the big ones - health, home, loved ones, car...

...the little things like the iridescent rainbow on a soap bubble while doing dishes.

So she is challenged to slow down.  To notice these little things and write them down in a notebook.

I have started lists like this several times - inspired by my dad, who has kept a list for years of things he is thankful for.  He calls it his arranain list.  {Sorry if I spelled that wrong, Dad!}

However, I always get frustrated while writing the list, because I always want to start with the "big things," and then get so caught up in describing why I am thankful for them that I tend to abandon because it seems so overwhelming.

The list Voskamp shares in One Thousand Gifts sets up a different kind of arranain.  It is the simple things that you would only notice if you slowed down long enough to see and truly appreciate them.   The way she writes them is beautiful.  In fact, the way she writes the entire book is beautiful.  You can hear the joy in her words.   She is poetic without being pretentious.

Following her example made it easy to start my list, not worrying about the obvious "big blessings" but focusing rather on the little, lovely things that make up every single day.

Here are a few from my list:

- warm, sweaty snuggles with arms wrapped around my neck, breathing steady and even.
- the vibrance of the center of a coneflower, orange quills reaching towards the sun
- an extra fifteen minutes of quiet in the morning with a steaming cup of coffee.

I could write for hours, but, like Voskamp, it is easier just to keep a notebook nearby and write them down as I notice them.  Reading over my list, especially when feeling particularly "ungrateful," fills my heart and makes me remember.

I recommend One Thousand Gifts, and making your own list.  You'll be amazed at how easily the words will flow from your pen...or fingertips. :)

PS - Another on my list...house sold!

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afternoon delight

"Keep your true love of nature, for that is the way to understand art more and more."

Vincent van Gogh, painter of many sunflowers

No matter where a person lives, there is beauty.

I live in a rather urban neighborhood that, despite the gorgeous historic brick homes, has a lot of distractions. Sometimes I get a little down when I see the rental houses with the trash-strewn across the front lawn, or the paint faded and bricks crumbling on an old gem in need of major love [and cash.] Sometimes it takes me a while to find a shot worth taking.

Then all of a sudden it is there. A cluster of sunflowers in the afternoon sunlight.

So I guess it doesn't need to be an idyllic setting. You just have to open your heart to see the details of the canvas. Let your mind block out the dogs barking, the unsightly power lines, the car horns, the police sirens, the trash...and just see what God is waiting patiently for you to take the time to notice. :o)

garden praise

It is Sunday morning, therefore I am in my garden.

Don't be shocked - I firmly believe I will still go to heaven. :)

Paul and I have yet to find a church that we would like to join, so many Sunday mornings are spent doing things that make me feel close to God. One is digging in the dirt.

Anyway, here are some shots of my fellow "worshipers" in God's beautiful creation...

This is a daylily plant I inherited from the previous owner of our property (one of the few elements I kept.) She has been moved several times before finding her home here.

This little man is a Sky Pencil Japanese Holly - my newest addition.

My azalea bush finally has some blooms! I adore the shiny, tropical looking leaves.

Looking down at a cluster of buds on an Althea bush.

I think of the many trips my [Lutheran pastor] father took us on throughout the years, and how so often we were in a location on a Sunday morning where no actual church building could be found. We worshipped in forests, next to lakes, huddled beside frozen streams and gigantic snowbanks, and in a valley surrounded by snowcapped mountains. Never had I felt so spiritual as moments like that. Praying and singing out in the open air of God's creation.

Hope everyone is enjoying a beautiful Sunday morning!