State of the Union

It's right there. U.S. Constitution -- Article II, Section 3.

"...shall from time to time..."

"...give to the Congress," (so, I'm stretching this just a bit here), "Information of the State of the Union, and recommend to their Consideration such measures..."

This moment. Right now. The [present] State of Affairs.

With a recommendation to consider for how to proceed.

And isn't this what we're all craving?

The announcer's, "He's winding up, ladies and gentlemen... and he's ready for the pitch..."

We wait with bated breath.

For the decision. The diagnosis. The announcement. The call.

The benchmark.

Then...

(And one of my all-time favorite State of the Union addresses...)

The change of command, followed by this...

"Now therefore,"

That word: therefore. It's the image of strength and solidarity. It's, "listen, I've set you up for success. I've got you. Act accordingly."

In this case, the very next word after 'therefore?'

"...arise,"

ohmyword. Perhaps you're a little like me? Perhaps you experienced moments in which overwhelm paralyzed you? Moments where life took an unexpected, jolting turn? Or maybe, like me, you made a foolish decision that resulted in far-reaching and disastrous consequences? (Yep, I did that. With financial repercussions like aftershocks from an earthquake. ugh. I'll have to tell you that story sometime.)

But there it is. Now. Therefore. Arise.

"...go..."

"...go over this Jordan, you and all this people, to the land which I am giving to them -- the children of Israel."

And the One Who created this people and has a vision for their lives, continues, "Every place that the sole of your foot will tread upon I have given you, as I said to Moses."

He lays it out, "From the wilderness... to the Great Sea toward the going down of the sun, shall be your territory."

And I love how God knows we need a bit of reassurance that we're not in this alone.

"...as I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will not leave you nor forsake you."

So?

"Be strong and of good courage..."

"Only be strong and very courageous..." And the counsel to not turn to the right or the left of Truth, but to stay the course, "that you may prosper wherever you go."

There it is. The recommendation for how to proceed. And what if we all considered such measures? Be strong and very courageous. Build a life of habits based on Truth. Know that you're authorized to prosper wherever you go.

And all the life hacks, programs, seven steps and frameworks? It's actually much more simple than the headlines have led us to believe.

For all the brokenness and heartache and the fact that it wasn't supposed to be like this, whatever our 'this' is, the truth remains that we can choose to fix our minds -- our hearts -- on Truth. That we can declare Truth, meditate on Truth day and night, and act on Truth.

"For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success."

And who couldn't stand to be a little, (or a lot), more prosperous and successful in their relationships, and work, and finances, and leisure, and health?

And just in case there's any doubt about our consideration to such measures, he reiterates, "Have I not commanded you?..."

[and because if you're anything like me and you've heard these words a gzillion-trillion times so you zone out with a haphazard, yeh, yeh, I've heard it all before... let these words spark neurons, strengthen hope-giving synapses, and breathe new life]

"Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."


Reflecting on 2018. Acknowledging the State of the Present. Moving forward with strength and courage, vision and expectation.

December Money Experiment, Season 1, Final Episode

“Your feedback on our December Money Experiment?”

It’s a rare occasion to have all six of us home at the same time. A quick glance at the family calendar provides a sense of urgency. I have less than twenty minutes for a team meeting. Now, huddled in the living room of our extra-large tiny townhouse, we’re asking those timeless questions, what worked, what didn’t? Asking, what might we do different?  

“Mom, our house is just kind of a crash pad right now.” Ezekiel’s eyes hold mine. I process his metaphor.

Later, I would look up the definition of crash pad… 1. informal – a place to sleep, especially for a single night or in an emergency. 2. a thick piece of shock-absorbing material for the protection of the occupants of an aircraft cockpit or motor vehicle. Also, for a gymnast or for boulder climbing.

This season of transition, the launching of ideas, work, goals, projects.

This experiment stripped the fluff and superfluous. In exchange for an overflowing pantry and refrigerator, we received the gift of insight.

There it was.

All our desires. Laid out bare.

Bare necessities, yes. Like food. Sure.

I’m curious, though… can a basic need like food cause the dreaded onset of …complacency? Maybe?

The first ten days or so landed nothing short of victorious. Working within parameters stirred my creativity and imagination, resulting in delicious culinary creations. The atmosphere went from tense and worrisome to hey, this might be fun after all.

Until the only items left on the pantry shelves were a bag of flax seed, white wine vinegar and yellow corn meal. Half a box of pasta and a bag of “Glorious Gluten-free Cookies” from Christ Kitchen faced one another in their private arena, their incongruence begging the question, What is the intention?

The challenge was to live on a grocery budget of $200 for a month with a family of six. That comes out to roughly $6.45 a day for December. Only ten days in and we had already spent $96.09.

Three dollars and sixteen cents a day more than the allotment.

Worry crept back in at the edges. The refrigerator door made a hollow fmp when closed. Instead of bold, faith-filled declarations, a few team members fretted, we might starve.

And, you know that question… What will you be famous for? Well, in our family, something I’m (in)famous for is “turning everything into a life lesson.” Yes, well, eh-hem… about that. Funny how a gnawing in an empty stomach can make space to consider the deepest desires of the heart. 

The stark reminder that we’re spiritual beings having a physical experience.

And the life-giving truths, metaphorically chewing on them, Delight yourself also in the Lord…* Then Matthew’s exhortation, But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness...**

Whispered reflection, what do I want most? What does my heart long for? Heh. I glance over at my vision board where there in the lower right-hand corner it reads …a gourmet chef’s kitchen and a team of world class chefs. They live on the premises and prepare healthy meals for all meals every day of the week. Ah! A small taste (excuse the pun) of heaven in all this grocery-budgeting, ingredient-improvising and recipe-innovating.

So, there’s the vision, the goal (at least for the kitchen)… and in the meantime… in the present…

{long smile} “Do not fret – it only causes harm.”*** And, “Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”**** Well, yes, about that, too.

Instead of fretting, instead of getting carried away by tomorrow’s unknowns, I wonder…

…how simple, how amazing if…

What if, I wanted to know more of God’s heart… you know, the way I want food? What if we longed to be filled with more of God’s Spirit, the way we hunger for savory succulence hot out of the oven? What if we decided to be wholly satisfied with the sustenance found in the Sustainer of our days? 

What if, we leveraged our physical longings as a nudging reminder of our soul’s deeper longing?

What if, we followed the example of the psalmist, the wholehearted declaration, One thing I have desired of the Lord, that will I seek: That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple. (Psalm 27:4) Yes, that… to encounter His presence… in “the premises” of my heart and soul… an ongoing communion…

Last week I read The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis. There’s a part where Screwtape, a demon on a mission to ruin a man’s soul, writes to his nephew regarding gluttony, “But what do quantities matter, provided we can use a human belly and palate to produce querulousness, impatience, uncharitableness, and self-concern?” Yes, there. Not the quantity, just the mere appetite.

Funny how something as fundamental as food presented possible epiphanies. How it shook up the complacent areas and caused me to consider this foodstuff on a soul-deep level.

Of course, I only pondered this all in my own heart as I looked at the five pairs of eyes looking back at me during this team debrief. Yes, the crash pad metaphor. Back to that. I especially like the second meaning, “a thick piece of shock-absorbing material for the protection of the occupants…”

{hold the wheel, that’s right, hold the wheel as we continue round this corner} This curve in the road with grown children finding their way, all of us – us parents included – stepping out into new endeavors, the faith-filled, bold declaration: I will behold the beauty of the Lord, to delight myself in Him, to seek first His kingdom and His righteousness. To lean into the transition, the new rhythm.

To execute on an idea. To take on fulfilling work. To achieve a goal, and then another, and another. To challenge ourselves, stretch out of our comfort zone and pursue projects that build a legacy of impact, changing the world around us for the better.

What if those are simply the fruit of utilizing our appetites, cravings, hunger pangs – whatever you call them – to lay bare the deepest longings of our soul? And to know Spirit absorbs the shock of our disappointments, impatience, frustrations, and setbacks.

So, we didn’t exactly work out all the kinks and fumbles in this experiment. And we didn’t succeed in the $200 challenge. The receipts from December 1^st through the 28^th document $235.80. Then, for some reason, on the 28^th, we ended the experiment… the receipts totaling $307.86 through the 31^st of the month. whelp. 

Based on the numbers, the experiment failed. Yet, the insights gained are priceless.

“So how do we make this a strategic, functional, effective crash pad, not just to meet physical needs, but for soul-care, too?”

The next fifteen minutes or so, we brainstorm ideas, possibilities. We establish a few outcomes from the experiment that will inform our next steps. For example, this new season in our family creates an atmosphere that more closely resembles a fraternity/sorority house of creatives and innovators than anything we’ve had before. Rarely is there more than one or two people home at the same time. 

Based on what we learned, we'll continue to look for ways to practice frugality. 

We'll give each other grace and space as we're all entering and exiting the revolving door of our home. 

We'll support one another in our goals and ambitions.

We'll continue to look for ways to create a culture of honor both here and everywhere we show up. One way we'll do this is to check in with one another, "How is it going for you? Is there anything I can do to honor and bless you?"  

We'll up the ante when it comes to praying for and with one another. (Something we've allowed to fall by the wayside.) 

We'll continue to seize moments to laugh together and serve together. And, ohmyheart... the ongoing, life-giving conversations around here! Yes, those. Whether a few minutes or a couple of hours, we'll definitely continue those conversations. 

What about you? Where can you challenge yourself? In what area might you create an experiment that could help you and your team create an environment that's aligned with who you are and who you want to become? 

*Psalm 37:4

**Matthew 6:33

***Psalm 37:8

****Matthew 6:34

Counting blessings…

303. All this, written while my family is a swirl of activity around me, making the traditional requested breakfast for Ezekiel on this, his 20^th birthday. French toast, scrambled eggs with sausage, and orange juice. Small tastes of heaven.

304. A new job for me! A continuation of my life’s work and passion: investing in and coaching families! Woohoohoo!! Thank You, Jesus!

305. A husband and grown children who are all stepping out in faith and pursuing God-sized dreams.

306. Difficult conversations and the ensuing decision to reign in ego, ask questions, listen, clarify and validate, share authentically, listen more. The resulting intimacy.

307. The glorious and exciting news of a friend’s outrageous success on a project.

308. An evening spent in the company of matriarchs who have loved, coached, mentored and invested in me for over twenty-one years.

309. A book that’s hung out at the top of my “To Read List” for way too many years, finally finished. And the 5+ pages of single-spaced, type-written notes from The Screwtape Letters which has given me plenty of fodder for future conversational musings.

310. A whole weekend to read and study Ruby K. Payne’s Doctoral Thesis, A Framework for Understanding Poverty.

311. An afternoon and evening with Aunt Kathy and Uncle Jake, (Grandma and Grandpa to our children), engaging in deep conversation, bouncing around ideas, seeking solutions to challenges. Aunt Kathy makes a lasagna dinner with all the sides and then we wile away the rest of the evening playing a game and laughing until we find ourselves reigning each other back in for the next round. LeRoy and Uncle Jake bond over the NFL game on television.

312. The anticipation of the week ahead.

313. All six of us home this morning for Ezekiel’s Birthday Breakfast. And again, this evening for his Birthday Dinner. Annnnd, in the interim, the opportunity for Ezekiel to go skiing with Eli and Israel. For LeRoy and Isaiah to hang out together and watch the NFL game at Uncle Jake’s and Aunt Kathy’s house. For a few hours of quiet space for myself.

December Money Experiment, Season 1, Episode 1

"I'd like to propose a grocery budget of $200 a month." His tone is faith and resolve. After all, our oldest spent the last year traveling with a team of 21. They made the best of meager resources. They sacrificed, he says. And they learned to be creative. 

He's confident our team of six has seriously underestimated what we're capable of in the areas of meals, nutrition and budgets. No worries, he assures us, trust him and he'll show us what can be achieved.

"I second that." Our third born, all logic and data, says he's in. His frugality has paid him huge dividends. So he's backing the idea in wholehearted agreement. And he agrees with his oldest brother, that we've probably been overspending on groceries. 

Our second oldest listens from the sidelines. And our daughter? She looks on, both bemused and curious. Unaffected. 

The proposal came about during a team meeting. "Regarding finances, I'd like to renegotiate some terms." All eyes turned toward Ezekiel. He shared a few goals and then, Eli, (inspired by Ezekiel's ambition?), pitched his idea.  

How did LeRoy and I respond to this proposal? Well, I laughed as I retrieved the finance notebook. 

Tracking income and expenses -- to the penny, it's a hobby. Accounting for checks and balances.  Making financial strategies and predictions. Creating margin. Organizing outgo, crunching numbers, and moving us toward financial freedom is fun. Romantic, even. 

I casually flipped pages, reporting each month's numbers, each one hovering significantly above the new proposed amount. 

No matter. I smiled. "I'm in." 

LeRoy (very) reluctantly agreed. It's for a short time and we'll chock it up to an experiment, I told him. Who knows, I shrugged, maybe we'll discover something we wouldn't have otherwise. 

So here we are. I'm a little behind on the documentation of this experiment, but so far, so good. Each of us agreed to contribute $50 toward the grocery budget along with meal planning and preparation, with LeRoy and I taking the first week. 

ohmygosh. I love it! There's nothing quite like boundaries and limits to spark creativity. Each day I perused the contents of our refrigerator, freezer and pantry with the question, "What can I make with what we have on hand?" 

Pasta drizzled with olive oil and garlic. Cream of broccoli soup paired with garlic bread, a chicken casserole, breakfast burritos (made in an extra-large batch and frozen for quick lunches later). I regret that I didn't track the meals better, but the ratings were five out of five.

Ezekiel took the second week, slightly leaner, yet nonetheless delicious. A second round of breakfast burritos, (this time with sausage, less veggies), enchiladas, and tacos.

Heading into our third week of this experiment. Will keep you posted on the intrigue and suspense, the creativity and imagination sparked by this challenge.

Counting blessings...

(continued from this post)

297. Presence.

298. Moments.

299. Time.

300. Creativity.

301. The way Eli passionately suggested that our family shake things up, take more risks, make sacrifices and try new things. 

302. Being on a team of good sports who know how to both go for the win and still keep things lighthearted and fun.

Recap of 2017 and An Idea

If you had to put a title on 2017, what might it be called? For me, I believe I'd call it Transition.

Germany rang in 2017 with the usual conviviality and merriment, fireworks on nearly every street and in the cobbled town squares. The carousing begins at midnight and carries into the wee hours of the morning.

Across Europe, the first day of the year begins with a day of rest. Businesses are closed, including grocery markets, making the next twenty-four hours conducive to contemplation and scheduling of the 364 days ahead.

For us, plans included a short visit back to the States sometime in the late summer or autumn. But that was eight or nine months away.

In the short-term, the coming months meant finishing the book I was writing, seeing many friends pack household goods and attending their "until later" parties as they moved to the next assignment, and preparing a two-week holiday with friends arriving in the springtime.

We did what we've always done. Settled into the new year, we carried on with work, education,  church activities and time with friends. Nothing happened too out of the ordinary except for the occasional cause for celebration like a friend's promotion at work. Or Ezekiel's 18th birthday on January 13th, celebrated on a men's ski trip in the Swiss Alps.

Yet, the environment at LeRoy's job grew increasingly difficult. Bureaucratic minutiae and poor management wore on him. And while his love for the actual work never waned, the thought of being surrounded by less than ideal attitudes and perspectives took their toll. Toward the end of January, he suggested we cancel our two-year extension and return to Spokane, Washington in six months.

So, maybe I'd title the year, Pivot. Over the next several weeks, the subject of moving filled the bulk of our dialogues. To be honest, I tried everything I could think of to try to change the situation. (Ha! In my book, Living Your Legacy, I talk about change. About the ability to accept what is while moving the story forward through skillful improvisation.) I didn't want to leave Germany and (selfishly) I thought there might be a solution that would allow us to stay for two more years. (I also wrote about how life is too short to stay stuck in a rut with no vision and little impact.)

Then one evening in February, LeRoy made a phone call to his friend, mentor, and previous boss at Fairchild Air Force Base in Spokane. And when he hung up, he turned to me and said, "We're canceling our extension and returning to Spokane this summer." And all the frustration and angst of the previous weeks and months dissolved into perfect peace.

The extension was canceled the next day. We'd fly out on August 20th.

Over the next four months, I finished my book, Living Your Legacy, we enjoyed exploring Europe with our friends, Larry and Sherry Templeton, and we said, "Until later," to many families. The movers arrived on a Monday morning in mid-July and we transitioned into temporary housing. (Over the course of the next three months, we'd live in six different places.)

A highlight in the middle of our move was our holiday to the Belgium countryside with our friends, the Johnson Family. Over a weekend that went way too fast, we stayed in a rustic French Gite just south of Dinant.

Exploration highlights comprised of a tour of the Citadel, beer tasting at the Maison Leffe, and kayaking on the River Meuse. Of course, there was the elegant and delicious Charcuterie Platter prepared by our friends, Warren and Jasmine, who paired our cuisine with a perfect French wine.

Then, a few weeks later, on Saturday afternoon, August 19th, we visited with friends-who-had-become-family one last time at Trattoria da Salvatore in Landstuhl. And at 3 o'clock the next morning, we left for the Frankfurt International Airport, arriving in Spokane, Washington that same afternoon.

That evening we had dinner with the Stone Family, and enjoyed a surprise visit from the Eva's. We spent the week "in-processing" which is military-speak for a small mountain of paperwork and checklists. LeRoy started work the following week. We searched for a place to live. Ezekiel searched for a job. Israel and I attended Women's Bible Study at Life Center.

Over the next few months, things fell into place. LeRoy thoroughly enjoys not only his work but the camaraderie and teamwork at Fairchild. We rented a townhouse on the outskirts of Spokane toward the airport and Airway Heights. Ezekiel got hired at the Starbucks only a seven-minute walk from our home.

Outwardly, it looks as though, for the most part, we've picked up where we left off. But things are different.

*~*~*~*~*

The last three years brimmed with the richness of relationships. (That's not the part that's different. We've experienced that everywhere we've lived.) :)  But the friends we met while living in Ramstein, Germany, are dreamers. They're action-takers who chase after audacious goals with purpose and unwavering faith and hope. Their lifestyles demonstrate anything is possible. 

They dream outside the lines, intimately connected to the One Who plants the seeds of what's possible in their hearts. For three years, we lived alongside people who live large... in faith, love, hope... adventure. People who poured encouragement and optimism over everyone they encountered because they were always up to something. (So much so, that I'll have to save that for another post.) 

This isn't to say everything always went well. We held one another up and prayed each other through difficult marriage, health, and parenting seasons. But it was a steadfast and intense community. One couldn't be in their presence without having Christ's love and joy splashed onto them.

Which brings me to my flash of insight. 

There's so much talk in our world these days about how we can 3X, 10X, or 100X our focus and efforts. Sure, I track with what they're saying. I mean, we spent the last three years with folks who live 10X and 100X lives. But somewhere along the way, I grew weary and being all in has started to feel... intangible. Until now.

My business coach and mentor, Steve Roller, wrote something recently that stirred inspiration and restored my vision for what's possible. He wrote about how he doesn't set an alarm to wake up. He allows himself to awaken to ideas. 

It's the second time within the last five days that I've heard one of my mentors talk about this. Earlier in the week, I heard John Maxwell relate a similar story from his own life. 

How often I've woken in the middle of the night or in the early morning hours with ideas that could have produced fruit. However, I didn't so much as write them down and then when I finally woke up "for real"... they were gone. 

So, I'm excited to test this theory that we can multiply our efforts -- that we can 100X our lives? (That wasn't the way Steve Roller or John Maxwell put it. That's just my own mashing of two ideas together.) :)  That taking action on ideas -- or at least writing them down -- as they present themselves, might be an organic, rhythmic way to multiply the fruit in our lives. 

I'll keep you posted. 

*I'm curious, did you think of what you would title 2017? Hit reply to this email and let me know. I'd love to hear your title. 

Book Launch Party! With a FREE Download

Yay for Book Launch parties! Virtual ones, too.

What an adventure it is to write and publish a book. I've learned a ton in this process, but most of all, (and best of all), going through this process has changed me.

Kind of like when I knew so much about marriage -- before I got married.

And when I planned out all my perfect parenting strategies -- before I became a parent.

I think I know so much -- until I actually step out of my comfort zone.

It's easy to wax eloquent about showing up for our lives and chasing our dreams. It's a whole different story to step out in faith and take action. Anyone?

We don't know what we don't know. How grateful I am that we can be leading learners!

Someone asked me the other day what prompted me to write a book. Great question.

I wasn't sure how to answer at first and then after some thought, I said, "You know, when we do the thing we're made for, it inspires people around us to show up for their lives, too. I've learned from and been inspired by so many people who consistently show up for life, I want to be more like them."

Living Your Legacy is my contribution to inspiring, motivating, and helping leaders recognize their impact and intentionally build cultures of honor. At work. At home. In life.

CLICK HERE to download your FREE copy of Living Your Legacy.

Make sure you download the free Kindle version as soon as possible. It's only free until midnight tonight.

*Be generous and share this LINK with your tribe. :)

**And if you read anything inspiring or helpful, will you do a favor for me? Will you click on this link HERE and leave an honest one or two sentence review? It will help the book stay at the top of the rankings. That way, others can easily find the book, too.

And, one more thing, click reply to this post and tell me what dream you have brewing inside you that might require you to step out of your comfort zone and be a leading learner.

The Romance of Anticipation

Do you like surprises?

I do. I love them, actually. One year for my birthday, two of my best friends dropped by unannounced with a piece of cake and coffee. During the course of our visit, one of them said, "Just to clarify... we stopped by without calling ahead because we knew you wouldn't mind." She paused for effect. "Don't ever do this to me." [mental note made]

On the other hand, there's something romantic -- poetic even -- about anticipation. About knowing the plan and looking forward to it.

The last couple of months were filled with hard conversations, some angst, and a decision which has changed our original plans.

To give you a little backstory... (I received a letter from a dear friend this past week and was embarrassed to discover she didn't know where we are and what we're doing... oi, talk about failure to communicate!)...

In August of 2014, we got to move from Spokane, Washington back to Germany. LeRoy took an assignment on Ramstein Air Force Base, in the southwestern part of Germany, situated about forty minutes northeast of Saarbrücken and the border of France. 

(*Trivia: Ramstein Air Base and the surrounding region has the largest concentration of Americans living outside of the States at a population of about 100,000. They call this area Little America.)

The assignment was a three-year commitment with an option to apply for a two-year extension, meaning we'd get to live here for five years.

You might know this about me, but I adore living, exploring, and traveling in places outside of my cultural norms. To revel in foreign languages, foods, and sights... to take in the romance of cultural nuances, touch history, and experience life outside of my comfort zone. Though, I admit, it's not quite the same living in an area saturated with American culture. Still.

You know how your heart beat quickens and, captivated by the moment, all your senses come fully alive as you breathe deeply, wanting an experience to last as long as possible? That moment when you're in your sweet spot? 

That's what living and traveling abroad means to me. Also, I love how exposing our children to different places and cultures provides a unique education. So, when my husband arrived home a couple of months ago and suggested we cancel our extension and return to our hometown of Spokane, Washington two years earlier than we anticipated, well... we struggled through some hard conversations until we arrived at the decision to return this year instead of 2019. 

So, the new and revised plan is to arrive back in Spokane at the end of this August. We'll keep you posted as we arrange flights and dates. 

Right now, I'm joyfully embracing the reality of "Surprise! Plans changed!" and vigilantly working on creating my romantic and dreamy list of all the things to anticipate as we transition to yet another chapter in this adventure. (After all, life is intensely romantic and Grace-filled and adventurous... no matter where we are in the world. There's nothing quite like living headlong into the suspense and adventure and uncertainty and poetry and romance of it all.)

What about you? What are you anticipating? What's surprised you recently? How are you seizing the romance and adventure of your life right now?  Your turn. Hit reply and let me know. Or comment below. 

"You Are The Average Of . . ."

You know the saying. You are the average of the five people you surround yourself with.

Last night, we spent the evening with an extraordinary family. Before they arrived, we were mere acquaintances. Yet, from the moment their coats were hung and the salad and side dish they brought were set on the table, the conversation volleyed creativity and ideas and possibilities.

Although dinner time was early in the evening, our conversation went late. These people cultivate a no excuses culture in their marriage and in their home. (Yes, please. Surround me with more of that.)

Encounters like these are oxygen for when the journey is long and our creative brain starts to get a little foggy. Here's a bit of motivation . . . at one point in the conversation, the husband said, "My work doesn't bring its' own reward, so I need to find ways to bring the intensity."

Bring the intensity. I smiled. I told him I hadn't heard that term used in at least three weeks, ever since Isaiah moved back to the States.

People who look for ways to bring the intensity are typically people who also take extreme ownership for their lives. They're always upping the ante, for themselves and whoever has the privilege of sharing their space. It's refreshing.

Later in the evening, we got on the topic of our personal websites. I told them about the website I've had for three years -- which only four or five people know about. His response was classic.

"Wait. You have a website no one visits? You don't share it?"

I cringed. Without an ounce of shaming, his question challenged me to face my pride and ego and move forward.

So, here it is. My website: www.sharonannolson.com

One of the ongoing projects in my life.

And thanks to our new friends, (they're brave, daring, audacious folks who foster undaunted faith and passionate mindsets), I'm rolling out the red carpet and inviting you in.

Please excuse the dust, the mess, and the noise. Hardhat recommended. We're in the process of figuring out what it means to bring the intensity.

How about you?

Do you have any projects right now which might be challenging you to take a daring step of faith? To bring the intensity?

Who are the people in your life who energize and inspire you? (Have you told them thank you?)

How To Create Your Own German Spa Experience

Sometimes, you just need to take the day off.

That's what I did today.

I woke up at 4 o'clock this morning, my head and face throbbing from sinus pressure. You ever been there?

Then I checked email, drank water, took Alka Seltzer, looked through my Facebook newsfeed with Israel, (the video of our friend, Macee's, post-op drug-induced delirium from the removal of her wisdom teeth had us rolling), took a little nap thinking I could sleep off the pain . . .

At 2 o'clock this afternoon, Israel ran me a hot, hot, (as in, I had to add cold water before I could get in), eucalyptus aromatherapy bath. After about 20 minutes, with my face drenched with sweat, and my heart rate accelerated by a lot, I got out and dressed in a fresh pair of pajamas.

Now, at this point, I realized I had the perfect makings of a German Spa experience. All I had to do was stand under an ice cold shower for several seconds. Or, the other option is to go outside in the freezing air for about 10 minutes.

At real German spas, you sit in a sauna with the heat so high, you're sure you're being cooked from the inside out. (Actually, I kinda felt like that in the tub of water Israel filled for me.)

Then . . . (and this is where the medicinal effect takes place), you exit the sauna and immediately dip down into an "ice bath," which is literally a cylinder tub with steps down into it where you submerge up to your neck. Do this for a few seconds and then step out.

At this point, you either go back into the sauna you were in before or you choose the one across the hall which is much hotter, (I stepped in there and found it was so hot I couldn't catch my breath), sit there for about 10 minutes, and repeat the ice bath. Or . . .go walk outside for 10 to 15 minutes.

Oh. And the dress code in a German spa is naked. So, there's that. Fortunately, they give you a big, fluffy bathrobe to wear around the spa and thankfully you're allowed to wear your bath towel in the sauna. Of course, if you're going to dip down into the ice bath, you can't wear either.

So, if you're not comfortable with the concept of al naturel, (which I'm not), you can wrap the cozy bathrobe around you and go sit outside in one of their oversize Adirondack lounge chairs.

Repeat the process three or four times to increase blood circulation, which promotes health and well being. :)

Which is what brought me to the realization that I had all the makings of a German Spa today. Because after my soak in extremely hot water, I went and sat outside where the temperature was 37 degrees Fahrenheit. I took my water bottle and the book I'm currently reading, but then found the fresh air to be so rejuvenating and relaxing, that I ended up just sitting there. Grateful. So. Extremely. Grateful.

My girl, who was downstairs working on making gingerbread for the house she plans to build, came up and checked on me and took a photo.

My head feels tons better. And I'm excited to get back to work.

How about you? How are you feeling today? Be extra kind to yourself. Maybe take the day off? What is your version of a German Spa experience?

On Being A Rookie and Taking Risks

The high-pitched dee-dee-dee in quick succession jolts me from deep sleep. It's 4:20.

This is the time of day when all I can hear is the cliche tick-tock and low whirr of the refrigerator. I open my journal and write across the page, Fri., Nov. 4, 16, 4:30A.

My heart is full. My mind keeps rhythm with the refrigerator's motor. My inspiration "bucket" is running over.

My friend, Rhyse, keeps track of the days until Christmas, beginning with December 26th. In fact, he'll greet you with the update, a wave of his hand and broad smile, "51 days!" It's charming, really.

I'm counting days, too, only more like the bright orange mile markers in a long race. 57 days to resolve intentions.

I glance up at the piece of paper tacked to the wall behind my computer, "My Life As A Verb ~ Contribute. . ." followed by nine more verbs. I need to add an eleventh: Resolve.

We're in a season in which I feel woefully unprepared. A rookie at best.

It's scratchy. Like wearing a tight wool sweater and sitting next to the fireplace in an already warm room. At times, it's hard to breath.

It's exhilarating, too. Because, after all, in a moment or two, the mug of hot chocolate will be empty and it'll be time to go back out in the biting cold. No, better to leave the sweater on than to get too comfortable here in the lodge.

I find myself reminiscing most days about the past decade and how much has changed and where we're going.

"Integrity is the courage to meet the demands of reality," writes Dr. Henry Cloud in his book with those same words as the title. Integrity. Courage. Reality.

So I'm up at 4:20, sometimes 3:30, learning, practicing, writing, wondering, brainstorming. Mustering courage to meet the demands of reality.

And I catch myself chuckling uncertainty and discomfort because this season feels reckless. Like a risk at every turn. At the moment, I'm buried beneath commitments and failing more than succeeding. And I'm learning to go faster, which leaves me less time to go back and stall out in an attempt to edit my life.

Can you imagine if the producers and directors in the world paused to edit -- but then got stuck there, never implementing new ideas and moving forward with production? Yeh, me neither.

My cousin, (she'll probably go on to take the stage and fronts of boardrooms to equip and empower high-level leaders one day. . . right after she equips and empowers the five young men growing up in her home first), is a motivational example of the power of taking risks. "Take action," she says, even as she and her husband pour their energy into endeavors -- and adventures -- with eternal significance. It's as though rookie status doesn't show up on their radar. They live forward, take risks, and inspire people along the way.

Interesting discovery: it's fun writing a book. An aside is the incredible accountability it provides. Here I am, not the expert -- but an amateur stepping into this big adventure, resolving scribbles on a daily list, "gettin' after it," as Isaiah, my 19-year old says.

What about you? What are you doing these days in which you are a rookie and yet you're finding the courage to take risks? Let me know in the comments or reply to this email.

Journey to Tansen, Nepal

Did I ever tell you about when we met the Beine Family?  They were talked about often at our home church.  This couple, both of them doctors, Dave with a PhD in Anthropology and Kimberly a medical doctor, and their child, (they only had one at the time), "chose to give up potentially lucrative careers to go serve on the foreign mission field."  In my eyes, they were stars, heroes.  I so very much wanted to meet these people who would willingly give up what the world has to offer to live for a cause beyond themselves.  I dreamed that someday I would have a chance to meet them.

Then, one evening we were invited over to a mutual friend's house for a backyard barbeque.  I remember my friend saying that she had invited some of their other friends to join us, and I remember thinking that was great... because I am totally about "the more, the merrier."  We were introduced to Dave and Kimberly and then we spent the next couple of hours eating grilled yummies, visiting, and laughing.  Lots of laughter!  At some point well into the evening, their boy, about two-years old at the time, did something that needed "redirection."  Everyone chuckled at the childish mischief and someone teased, "So is that how they teach kids to behave in Nepal?"

My eyes got big, I leaned forward, and pointed my finger at Dave and Kimberly, "You're the Beine's?  Your the ones who are missionaries to Nepal?"  I couldn't believe I was having dinner with these people I had longed to meet for so long!  What a joy!  What a dream come true!

Who knew that twelve years later we would have dinner together in Kathmandu, Nepal?

April 3 ~ Our flight took us from Dusseldorf, Germany to the United Arab Emirates where we attempted to cope with jet lag... and ended up sleeping in a snuggled heap on the airport floor.

April 4 ~ We landed in Kathmandu grateful...  for empty, growling stomachs... heightened senses in this third world country...  for extra grace and an opportunity to practice patience while waiting nearly an hour to get our luggage...  for ALL our luggage to arrive safely at the airport!...  that Zeke was willing to transport precious cargo in his carry-on (squished marshmallows just wouldn't be the same when it came time for roasting)...  to see Dave and Nick's smiling faces as we stepped out into the warm, thick Nepali air...  that they had arranged the taxi (and how all through the adventure, we never had to give a thought to these logistics because Dave and Kimberly took care of all the details)...  for friends to stay with in Kathmandu...  that I could throw my arms around my sweet friend, Kimberly, thankful, so-very-thankful for her friendship...  delicious grilled chicken...  the yummiest yogurt I've ever tasted in my life (and it was homemade, too!)

...for third world "safety briefings"...  how that we learned to live by the motto, "If it's yellow, let it mellow; If it's brown, flush it down."...  for the lesson on how to share a water bottle with a whole community without ever contaminating the contents...  for bedtime prayers... and a praise song sung in Nepali...  for cozy beds where we slept soundly through the night

April 5 ~ grateful for the "buck" that took us the 90-mile trip through the Himalayan Mountains to Tansen where the Beine Family lives...  

...for the stop along the way where we sipped hot chi tea...  and used the first of many squatty potties...  and took in breathtaking views of the mountains...

...for the careful driver...  for a chance to relax, nap...  and talk...  and talk...  and talk...  all while the bus traversed hairpin curves, narrow roads, oncoming traffic in our lane, an occasional cow, dog, or goat...

...for the lunch stop where we ate our first dal bhaat, (rice with lentil soup, vegetables, and various sauces)...  a place to wash hands with soap and running water...  and instructions from Nate to make sure that our hands are dry before we touch any food or our faces...

...that we arrived safely in Tansen... and how that we made great time, making the 90-mile journey in only nine hours!... for the adventure of carrying our luggage the 10-minute walk from the hospital to the Beine's house...  and how that gave us the opportunity to take in this ancient hill town and their beautiful people going about their day, curiously watching us foreigners lug our luggage past their homes and storefronts...  for the generous accommodations the Beine Family arranged for us in their home... homemade pizza... and the Didi (pronounced dee-dee) who prepared such a luxurious dinner!

(...noticing God's glory and His never-ending Grace Gifts 199 to 236, from Dusseldorf, Germany, to Kathmandu and finally Tansen in Nepal!)


Linking today with Ann...

Culture Shock

"That 'thing' you experienced last night at dinner..." Dave's smile is gentle, empathetic, "you know, when your family..."  I jump in, finishing the sentence for him, "had a total meltdown?"  He smiles affirmation, "Well, that was because you were experiencing culture shock."

Oh.  That's what that looks like?  It's my turn to smile, "That would have been nice to know five years ago."

I read this today in a travel book, "Culture shock is what afflicts people who spend prolonged periods of time in another country.  It pertains to how people cope with the stress caused by the newness of the environment, culture and people.  The stress can feel like an illness and can cause physical problems such as allergies, backaches and headaches, or interrupt the normal digestive processes.  It can bring on emotional stress expressed through unexpected and inexplicable tears or vehemently expressed anger over minor offenses.  It can also unsettle a person intellectually to the point where they don't know who to trust and can't distinguish between reality and the fabrications of their imagination.  People who are already under some emotional stress will feel the effects of culture shock much more severely than those who are not. 

Culture shock happens to everybody to some degree or another.  Even people who have experienced it before must go through it again in a new country and culture.  You are hardly aware of the stress and changes you've been through until you watch other newcomers go through it and remember your own similar experience and feelings in those situations, and how much more comfortable you feel with the passage of time.  Knowing what to expect can help, but it cannot prevent it."* 

The book went on to explain three stages of culture shock including why it occurs, "...because of the human condition of expecting others to behave, think and feel as we do." 

And all I can do is smile long in this knowing way.  Visiting developing nations -- like Nepal -- takes its toll.  To witness broken systems, lack of resources, and hurting people.  My feeble attempts to wrap my mind around the normality of the four-year old girl squatting in the gutter defecating as buses and motorcycles whoosh by only a couple of feet from her.  And why, why??, was that little boy in the "holy" river, standing in muck up to his shins, looking as though he was searching for something valuable?  That muck a mix of human ashes, decaying bodies, fecal waste, and garbage.  why?  I wanted to take him up in my arms, search for understanding, change his world.  But he was on the other side of the river -- the side where they were doing ritualistic cremations -- and all I could do was let this image burn deep, let it unsettle me. 

So... culture shock on the other side... as our family embarks on this journey of moving back to the States.  I can't help but wonder how each of us will cope.  Our family has had a plethora of moments in these last five years when we've coped poorly through culture shock, whining about various discomforts, arguing over trivialities, worrying in the small things.  I'd love to be able to say that we've matured past culture shock.  But we haven't.  And I find great comfort in hearing Dave say that it's not a maturity issue.  Culture shock is something that just is.  However, it helps to know that it's coming and to recognize the signs when it's happening.

Ahhh... {long sigh}  Today was a difficult day.  I hit a funk and spent the afternoon struggling through it.  Eli, in an effort to help me out of my funk, asked, "Are you having a hard time with the fact that you live in the 21st century?"  I laughed in spite of myself.  He's right.  I think I'm experiencing culture shock as I go through my day with plenty of water -- water that I can safely drink... right out of the tap.  We have electricity; every day; all day.  People drive on their own side of the street, meaning we don't have to swerve to avoid head-on collisions.  I can walk barefoot outside without worrying about getting tapeworm.  Such blessings!  Causes to celebrate, to be sure.  What a modern, "developed" and luxurious world I live in!!

Surely, there must be a reason.

Reasons for such blessed grace gifts: that beautiful gift of being wrecked for the ordinary... the gift of restlessness... the gift of brokenness... the gift of exposure to different ways of behaving, thinking, and feeling... the gift of culture shock... the gift of a thousand more questions instead of answers... His extravagant faithfulness in spite of my doubts... the gift of His unchanging sovereignty... the gifts of beauty... and laughter... and praise... and celebration... the gift of His ways are not my ways... the extraordinary grace of gratitude...

(#'s 186 - 199 in counting His never-ending grace gifts...)

Linking up today with Emily...





...and Ann...

* Culture Shock! A Survival Guide to Customs and Etiquette, United Arab Emirates, (pgs. 100 - 101)

Field Work

Give me profound. Something that rattles my paradigms and shakes loose the chains in which I store my judgmental, unloving perspectives. Let me go to the field.

There’s a scene in Indiana Jones, Kingdom of The Crystal Skull, which quickens my heartbeat. Dr. Jones and Mutt are on a motorcycle fleeing for their lives in a high speed chase. As Mutt attempts to out-maneuver their pursuers he ends up riding into the university library where he lays the bike on its side and slides down the center of the building. They skid to a stop just before colliding with a group of students attending a lecture. Without missing a beat, one of the students on the front row asks Dr. Jones – who listens while brushing himself off and getting back on the bike – a question about archeology.

Mutt restarts the bike’s engine and starts to ride away as Jones answers the question, shouting the last bit of counsel over his shoulder and pointing to the young man,

“If you want to be a good archeologist, you gotta get out of the library!”

He shouts this to the young man… but he may as well be shouting it to me.

And it was standing in a circle in the driveway, our family and the family we had just met the day before, them praying blessing over our family as we get ready to set out on an epic adventure, which made my heart race. This family who invited us to stay in their home while attending the homeschool conference for the weekend… the ones we stayed up with until 12:30 in the morning sharing stories and laughter like we’d been friends for a lifetime. The profound intimacy and beauty of Kingdom Connections.

I am finding profound in these Kingdom moments. These seek-ye-first-the-kingdom-of-God-and-His-righteousness moments when I am filled to so full that I think I’ll surely burst with the eternal-ness. Moments when Heaven’s horizon is so close that I can wrap my arms around it, embrace it, and revel in the all-these-things-shall-be-added-unto-you of it all.

It comes to me through the crackly, “wait, what did you say? You’re cutting out…” voice on the line all the way from Southeast Africa – in the friendship that transcends oceans and continents and the supernatural connection that doesn’t wane. Her laughter and encouragement a grace gift I tuck in my heart and replay over and over.

Field moments, one right after the other, connections between people turning ordinary into extraordinary in kitchens, on telephones, over e-mail, on the bleachers at the game, in a card thoughtfully chosen with a word of encouragement written inside, in classrooms, cafes…

Raphael's "And how can we pray for you?" in the French-bakery-turned-church.  The way our friends opened their home and their hearts, invited us to share in their ministry of loving people.  How they showed us that spending time in the field is tangible, moment by moment caring for the other in the tension and struggle and victory and celebration.

So it is with much anticipation that our family is setting out on an epic adventure, getting “out of the library” to do some field work, to use all our senses to experience what we’ve only previously read and heard about.

We leave for Nepal this Tuesday, arriving in Kathmandu on Wednesday afternoon. 

Grateful for the profound...

169. In the way that Israel finishes reading part of the story about Moses telling Pharoah to let the people go, closing her Bible with a sigh and, "All the good books stop right when it's getting really good and I wonder what's going to happen next."

170. The evening my girlfriend and I pulled into the driveway and the two-hour conversation that ensued.

171. And the depth of vulnerability and authenticity cultivated in a friendship through doing life together.

172. In the level of (desperate, eventually-joyful) dependence on God as I realize daily that I'm in way over my head in this mission of motherhood and the pressing into the struggle of training up becoming-adults.

173. ...Grace.

174.  Wisdom offered up when my attitude of defeat and self-pity bubbled out over the phone to a friend and she gently reminded me that there isn't anything in my life that's an oversight on God's part.  How that He's known it all along and He's got it all under control.

175. ...sense of peace that comes from knowing I'm not responsible for "running the universe."

176. Thoughtfulness of husband who sacrifices in a thousand small and not-so-small ways everyday.

177.  In the way that his love continues to cover in spite of my selfishness... and how that alone somehow loves me right into his arms.

178. Exhortation of 14-year old Zae who gently reminds, "Instead of stressing, stop and take a second to pray about this."

179. Laughter all round as we linger long at the dinner table sharing stories from our day.

180. Anticipation of not knowing what lies ahead as we embark on a Kingdom Journey together.

181. Dialogue filled with passion and conviction.

182. Awareness that almost five years have gone by since we moved to Germany.

183. Dreams that lie unfulfilled and how my spirit soars when I contemplate stepping through to this next transition.

184. Expectation of God's faithfulness and amazing grace in this next chapter...

185. Simplicity.

About That

There are some places in the world that make their way into my heart and take up residence, filling the space with the sense that, I belong here... I need to live here someday... there are stories here... I was made for this.  Places that resonate so deeply inside of me that I find myself searching for the house where I'll live, making note of the street name of a quaint cafe where I'll get my coffee, studying faces -- you know, in case they end up being my neighbor and our stories intertwine.  Venice, Italy is one of those places.

Hence, it seemed perfectly natural that if I decided I'd ever run a marathon, Venice made the perfect backdrop.

So I'll be honest and tell you that the vision that kept me running toward the finish line during all those long, (yes, tedious), miles of pretty much nothing magnificent, (in spite of all the propaganda that claimed this was one of the race route's most scenic and historical), was the idea of running in the actual city of Venice.  The last few miles of the race.  Hm.  About that.

When I trudged past the 18-mile marker and a race official called out something in Italian, him all twinkly-eyed and smiles, and I responded in English, he repeated himself... in English, "You're an hour late!"  He gestured to his watch. 

I smiled back, a bit confused, late for what?, I thought.  I didn't know about the blockade a mile and a half ahead.  The one where they'd tell me I  was done and I'd argue that I wasn't finished.  And about that prayer I prayed as I crossed the starting line, "Lord, I want to be broken.  Whatever it takes...  Less of me and more of You.  Take me to a place where I'm consumed with living for You."  And, really, who prays a dumb prayer like that?  Especially at the beginning of a 26.2 mile race.

And maybe part of the story is about Francesca.  The gal who made me smile with curiosity as racers gathered at the starting gates, her skipping and dancing around like a giddy five-year old.  Her audible giggle as she stretched clumsily, her arms flailing wildly as she nearly toppled over.  A tall man dressed in slacks, pressed button-up shirt, and Oxfords watching her, his stoic expression filled with devoted concern.  Her husband?  A guardian?

She passed me on the right somewhere between three and four miles.  Her steady pace punctuated with an occasional stumble and quick skip accompanied by a gleeful chuckle and snort.  Later, well after the 5-mile mark, she was up ahead when the 6-hour pace group caught up with me and I fell in with them... them calling cadences in Italian, whooping and partying it up.  It was their pacer, the one carrying the baby-blue balloon with a bright white six painted on it, who asked me my name and welcomed me to the group.

"Alright, everyone!" she yelled.  "This is Sharon and she's going to finish the race with us!"  The whole group cheered, yelled welcome's and encouragements.  Pretty soon, our group came up alongside Francesca.  That's how I learned her name.

For a while, I kept company with this spirited group.  But then there was that little decision I  made when walking to the starting gate, the one to forgo standing in line to use the porta-potty.  The decision that brought about catastrophic consequences at about the 6-mile mark.  Lesson learned: never, never pass on the opportunity to visit the porta-powder room one last time before setting out on an epic journey.  Suffice it to say that there was no way I was going to keep up with the pace group.  The last one.  My last chance to jog this gig with the camaraderie of fellow racers.

Eventually, the pace group's whoops and hollers faded into the distance and I realized I'd have to sprint to catch up.  Better to settle into a resolute rhythm, dreamy thoughts, visions of running through Piazza San Marco and seeing my family at the finish line motivating me onward.

Francesca fell behind the pace group, too.  When I caught up to her, I noticed she was struggling.  I asked her if she was alright and she rattled something in Italian.  Her voice was high-pitched and squeaky.  But her eyes sparkled and she smiled and smiled, her words melodic, the syllables bouncing along trifling glissando giggles.

I slowed my pace -- more -- matching my stride to hers.  Occasionally, she'd pause, her breathing short, almost gasping, before stepping into a steady forward stride again.  And that's how it went, in fits and starts, me offering small exhortations here and there, waiting while she stopped to remove her shoes and shake pebbles out, her enthusiastic expression never wavering.  I smiled in spite of myself.


The two of us plodded along together.  As we approached the 13.1-mile marker, she tried telling me something urgent.  Although I smiled and shrugged, I didn't understand until she approached the lone race official busy winding electrical cords and letting the air out of the inflated banner over the road that announced the half-way mark.  Francesca waved me on with a high-pitched, enthusiastic "Grazie!  Grazie!" 
 

Later, upon reflection, I came to two conclusions about that part of the story.  First, it was a great test... I now know for a certainty that I'd get my teammate and I kicked off the reality show's Amazing Race right away.  Second, running the race in a relational context is a place that fills my heart with that sense of I belong here... this is what I was made for.  I didn't mind running alone -- very alone... as in, most of the race I couldn't see another soul ahead or behind me.  But running alongside Francesca... well, the race took on an eternal dimension.

There is something about that place of engaging in the divine, of traveling the journey with others... that place where we enter into another's brokenness... the challenge of letting go of a little more of my own agenda and selfishness and fear to risk love.

Francesca's enthusiasm was contagious.  I can still see her in my mind and I smile all over again.  There was something about that place of going the distance together that said this is where I live... take note.  That epic place filled with stories.     

My family was at the finish line exactly where I knew they would be, watching the racers approach the finish, waiting for me.  "Mom!  Did we miss you?  We never saw you coming toward the finish line!"  Uh, about that.

Gratitude:
162.  Gelato on the walkplatz with family.

163.  A whole week full of breakthroughs!

164.  The whole family, sore left arms, and the blessing of immunizations.

165.  Six prescriptions for malaria medicine as we prepare for an epic adventure.

166.  Reading Kingdom Journeys together as a family.

167.  Praying together.

168.  Going the distance together.