I always have enough

We are sitting in front of the graduate student apartments in the few feet of lawn separating home from sidewalk. Skin drinks in sunlight and vitamin D as we bask in the sunshine that always seems to arrive just in time for finals week.

Two more walk by. Both stop and talk for awhile, sharing stories of what God is doing in their church. Telling us about the faith healings. One leaves, and the other sits, answering the questions my friend is brave enough to ask as I swallow mine.

I'm posting over at Deeper Story today. You can read the rest of the post there.

unique and unrepeatable

Each one of us is a unique and unrepeatable miracle of God’s grace.

But I do not always feel like a unique and unrepeatable miracle of God’s grace. More often I behave as though God puts up with me because He made me and now He is stuck with me.

I'm posting over at Deeper Story today. You can read the rest of the post there.

You find me

In broken hearts and deep empty places.
In long nights in a bed meant for one, wishing there were two.
In rainbows on days that feel like thunder.
When the lightning frightens with
Each.
And.
Every.
Strike.
I find You.
No.
No.
You find me.
On days I cannot find myself.
On days I cannot see hope.
On days I cannot do anything but wish for eternity now because isn't that better than now.
You find me.

it is about us

So often I think it is about me. About us. About women.

Probably because I am one.

I think of our broken hearts, shredded and lonely, waiting and wondering if anything but Christ and loneliness will ever live here.

I think of tears cried in the darkness and at empty kitchen tables, and smiles forced over cups of coffee pretending stories of others’ togetherness are simply a source of joy.

I think of how it feels to wonder who and to wonder why and to wonder why no one ever just asks, because you never know unless you ask.

But I rarely consider the responsibility you bear, brother.

I rarely think of what it must be like to be the one to ask the question, to make the first move, as your broken, lonely, shredded heart beats a bit faster as you wonder what she will say.

I rarely think of what it must like to face the choice of relationship instead of independence, to choose to love another as Christ loves the Church. For the rest of your collective time on this earth.

Brother, that must be so daunting.

I do not know if I could handle that responsibility.

Of course I have my own responsibility to bear in that same agreement, for the rest of our collective time on this earth.

But, brother, I rarely consider your side.

I rarely wonder what you think or feel late at night in the darkness or at empty kitchen tables or over cups of coffee, or perhaps for you it is pints of beer and cigars.

Brother, I am sorry for thinking it is just me, it is just us, just women.

It is about us, men and women, with hearts on the mend, waiting and wondering if anything but Christ and loneliness will ever live here.

This post is also featured today on Good Women Project. Please take a second to check out their site.

Here I Raise My Ebenezer

We sit around the table, the last bits of dinner drying on my aunt’s good china. Candles flicker and Christmas lights resting on branches of evergreen twinkle from the living room. Our attention is drawn to the rocks that sat on our napkins when we first sat down for Christmas dinner.

I hold the rock, knowing what is coming. Dreading what is coming. Before dinner my aunt asked me if I would share a bit about the word Ebenezer. If I would share with everyone what it means. I hold the rock in my hand knowing that each rock is to be an Ebenezer for each of us at the table. That we will share with each other what this Ebenezer is to remind us of.

I'm posting over at Deeper Story today. Head over there to read the rest of the post.

more faithful than the morning

The sky burned red and gold, clear and fuzzy all at once. Maybe it was my early morning eyes. Maybe it was Him whispering, “Good morning, beloved.”

It’s been so cold here this summer. Empty hands and quiet houses full of only the noises I make.

I’ve spent the summer missing other noises and familiar hands.

I’ve spent the summer longing for different noises and new hands.

But this morning, when the sky was on fire and it seemed like He and I were the only two awake, I felt His faithfulness wrap me up, pull me closer.

This morning when the sun shone bright, shades of spun honey and molten lava all at once, I remembered that I am the one who changes, that I am the one who is inconsistent.

He stands steadfast, ever faithful.

More faithful than the morning.

looking up

It's a little later than I like to wake up in the morning, but I can't seem to stop hitting snooze. I know there's ground coffee waiting for boiling water in the french press, and dark wooden table beckoning me to come and sit. I choose five more minutes, and as I close my eyes I think, "but you were going to actually get up and read this morning."

My eyes open, my feet on the old wooden floors beneath me, I shuffle to the kitchen, boiling water, setting lunch out, returning to my room to check Facebook and my email. My eyes land on the stack of books by my bed as I pull the covers up and arrange the pillows, "you're up, why aren't you reading?"

Coffee pressed, preheated mug full of hot french press, I climb onto my bed pulling my Bible and a small devotional into my lap. Turning to today's date, I read the first sentence and I see my Father running out to meet me after what feels like such a long absence.

"Hope is a golden cord connecting you to heaven. This cord helps you hold your head up high, even when multiple trials are buffeting you. I never leave your side, and I never let go of your hand. But without the cord of hope your head may slump and your feet may shuffle as you journey uphill with me." [Jesus Calling]

"Father," I think, tears stinging my eyes, "how did you know?" Of course He knows, He has walked each shuffled step as I have taken my eyes of the destination and focused instead on the difficult terrain beneath my feet. With the reminder of hope fresh in my ears, I breath deeply, and choose to look up, choose to engage with hope, even though it feels a bit foolish. Because I am tired of looking down. Because I am tired of trying to avoid His ever present hope. Because I am called to hope, and I have the best reason to hope. Because I am promised that He came to give me to live life to the full.

worth reading 07.01.11

There's a lot of mindless crap out there, kids. Sometimes it's hilarious. Sometimes it's the perfect distraction after a long day of trying to pack up an entire office and move it across town. And sometimes it's just crap.

Fortunately there are also some really good things* to be found on this world wide web. Here's my list of words I think are worth the read.

1. My dear friend Nish is going to Bolivia at the end of July with World Vision. Her post on the currency of human contact is beautifully written, and I cannot wait to read her words while she is immersed in the lives of the Bolivian people.
2. Okay. Pretty much ANYTHING you read on Love and Respect NOW is worth your time. Joy Eggerichs has the most beautiful heart for our generation. Seriously. Stop reading this post, go over to Love and Respect NOW, read a few posts [like this series or this one or this series], and if you feel like it you can come back here and read the rest of this list.
3. Have you heard of Max Dubinsky? Well educate yourself. Dude has got skillz and he loves Jesus. His post this week on What Men Really Want rocked my world in both a "dude, that was totes the most awesome" AND in a "that knocked me off my feet" sort of way. Ladies especially, please do this. I promise that it is not what you expect.
4. Forever a presence on these lists, I loved the way Lauren tackled the "but he's so nice / why don't you date him / it's not like you have to marry him" issue. She lays down truth about how we are created and how we value [or don't value] ourselves with the choices we make.

*Most of the people I list each week will be repeats because I find them to be fairly consistent sources of well-written, Truth laden writings. If that bores you, or if you think I'm missing someone, let me know.

worth reading 06.10.11

People ask me why I tweet, and while there are a lot of different reasons, one of the main ones is because of all the different blogs and bloggers I've discovered. There is plenty of junk on the internet, and there are plenty of ways to waste my time. But there are also places worth stopping by on a regular basis because the truth that lives there is inspiring.

Here are a few of the posts that have inspired me this week. If you have a second [c'mon, you know you do], check out any one of these. And if you have more than a second, check them all out.

1. I loved Joy's fresh perspective on what it means for us to guard our hearts. As a person who loves to love big, it's been a concept I've struggled with. I think she unpacks it with grace, truth, and humor. As per usual.
2. One of my favorite people, first on Twitter, then on Tumblr, then as a blogger, and now as a dear friend is Lauren. Her friendship is a treasure, and her wisdom blows me away on a regular basis. Her post on pre-marital sex is FANTASTIC. Please, please, please, man or woman, married or single, please read it.
3. I also loved Lauren's post on rest. It is simple, and it is true.
4. I was drying my hair this morning, praying about my own relationship history. I asked God for help understanding what healing looks like and what it looks like to honor Him within romantic relationships. And then I found this post by John Piper, entitled "No More Scarlet Letters." I love the way God answers prayer.
5. And last, but certainly not least, there is Miss Ally Spotts. She is delightful and insightful. Her post on how to deal with a difficult break up was full of wisdom.

So there you have them: my must reads of the past few weeks. I hope they encourage and challenge you as they have done to me.

thankful on a thursday—good giver of gifts

Okay. I get that part of the point of engaging in this weekly exercise of listing things I am thankful for is to remind me of how many reasons I have to be thankful. Since I've been a bit ridiculously absent on this blog for the last month or so, I haven't been engaging in this as much.

Then I was at home community on Sunday, and as we were going around sharing how our weeks went, what we wanted prayer for, and the ways God's been answering our prayers, I was bowled over by how faithful the Lord is. As we went around the room each person's words reflected God's work in our lives. It was incredibly encouraging.

And friends, I needed that.

So much.

I know that He is faithful. But sometimes my faith falters and I need more than just the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of what I do not see. I got that on Sunday in heaps and piles.

Five days later I am still reveling in His provision.

1. The people in my home community.
2. Running.
3. FOUR new leaders for the high school group. Such a HUGE answer to prayer. Seriously.
4. Watching my high schoolers graduate. I am so proud of the young women they are.
5. Summer in Portland.
6. Friends who remind me of what is best for me, even when it is hard.
7. A new crew of eighth graders moving up into the high school group. I cannot wait to discover who they are.
8. Better relationships with my coworkers. Some of these have been a very long time coming.
9. My friends. Seriously. How on earth did I get so blessed?
10. The truth that my value comes from being loved by a God as faithful and unchanging as Yahweh.

beautiful girl

You know those moments when you stumble upon a song and it's just absolutely perfect? That happened to me this morning.

psalm 27:13–14

I am still confident of this: that I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.

He is so good

We sang this song in church yesterday. I love it.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

There are some big changes* going on around here folks. And I am finding myself wanting to write more, and also discovering that I have less and less time to do so. Part of that is because I've been blessed with the opportunity to participate in the community over at Deeper Story. Writing there has me thinking all month long about what my next post will be. Sometimes those posts are written sooner and they show up here. Other times they stew and simmer, much like April's post has been doing, and are served up, usually posting minutes before the midnight publish deadline, over at Deeper Story.

Point being, I feel a little like I'm neglecting my blog. I don't want to, and I don't want to write out of obligation. I write, and have always written, because I love it. Because it brings me joy and because of all the ways God's given me to express myself, I think He has gifted me most in my ability to express myself through words, both written and spoken.

I am hopeful that as these life changes become a little less fresh I will find more time to write. Thank you for stopping by and to read the words I do find the time to write. I am humbled that you want to read the crazy mess of thoughts that tumble from my head and out my fingers up onto this screen.

*One of the smallest of those changes will be a new look for this place I call my writing home. I AM STOKED.

guest post: is this friendship?

My dear friend Kathy and I were talking the other day about forgiveness. She shared a situation with me that she was working through and asked if she could do a guest post for my blog. Without hesitation I answered, "yes!" I hope you enjoy her honest words as she struggles through one of the hardest situations we encounter in friendship: broken trust.

***

"I was but a child then, although I didn't know it yet. I suspect I'm still a child now. Although we grow in intellect, we're learning that we must reflect on the mistakes that we have made. Though we make them again and again. And as time goes by, it seems in fact the more we question why, the less the world has interest to reply.

We're always grabbing hold of things, pretending that we're knowing things that none of us has power to command. Well I knew that I loved you once, and what good did that bring to us? As time goes by, it seems in fact the more we question why, the less the world has interest to reply.

What of all my questions then, are they a form of insolence? For I am but a baby in my mother's ancient arms. And if the more I question why, the less the world will give me in reply, and I'll learn to stop my questions by and by."

Do you know what it's like to lose a friend? I do. People say it's like a break up, but it's not. It's much worse. To me, a friend is someone I love, respect, admire, and am excited about. I want to share everything with my friend because I want to know what sort of genius answers she'll have in response. I trust her with my troubles, and I share my stories with her. I listen to her, and I keep her secrets. We protect each other.

When you lose a friend, you lose some ability to see the good in people, and to trust them. Breaking up with a boyfriend, that's easy. It's OK to blame everything on him. Lost your keys? Blame the ex. Stubbed your toe? Blame the ex. Gain a couple LBs? Blame it on the ex! It's easy and, let's face it, it feels Good with a capital "G"!

When you lose a friend there's a part of you that is reluctant to trust the next friend. The instinctual urge to protect yourself kicks into high gear. There are feelings of betrayal mixed with shame, distrust, confusion, sadness, and it hurts. You start to question the motives of your other friends and whether or not they're capable of hurting you in the same way. You wonder if there's a way for you to work it out, maybe even build up a stronger foundation, but you're still too tired from the energy you're using to hate her that it doesn't seem like an option.

Recently I had a friend betray me in one of the worst ways. She told stories about me behind my back; bad ones, filled with lies, secrets, and all the things in between that I thought friends weren't capable of saying about each other.

So today I'm struggling with the question of whether or not to forgive her. I know that forgiveness is a fool's game, and there's potential for her to hurt me in more extreme ways in the future. At this point, I don't know if I want to be a fool, but I do know that my life (at least for the time being) is much happier without her in it.

enough

photo credit

remember you are dust

The sound of rain is heavy on the roof as my pastor reads thoughts on life and death. I sit in the increasingly familiar magenta pew, sandwiched between my students, wishing I didn’t feel so fragile. Wishing I hadn’t spent the past day and a half wrestling with deep, old wounds that have resurfaced. Open and sore, rather than the shiny pink I would have assured you they were two days ago.

I look up from my lap, straining to hear the words read from the front. Thinking that if I just listen hard enough maybe I can wade through this issue and focus on my return to dust and dirt instead of the rawness of my wound...

You can find the rest of this post at A Deeper Story.

thankful on a thursday—unzipped

If you asked me about the past three years I would tell you about pain, process, healing and redemption. I would show you my kitchen table, and the two chairs that sit there. I would tell you about gut wrenching sobs, tears spilling onto my lap, cheeks that burned with shame and embarrassment, and the exhaustion that would set in night after night. I would tell you about my roommate, a woman with more patience and the incredible gift of walking alongside you RIGHT, EXACTLY where you are without fear or judgment. I would tell you about anger, fear, resentment and jealousy. I would unzip the center of my chest and show you the scars on my heart.

This one is from June 2009. It took all of June some of July, to heal. If you look closely you can see it's really a series of smaller scars that melded into one.

This one was from a night in October. It was a old wound that had to be reopened so it could heal properly. It took me so long to admit that it needed to heal differently.

This one that seems as though it should have severed my heart in two? That's an old one, that's a daddy one. I think at one time my heart may have actually been in two separate pieces, but it is back together now, and beating stronger than ever.

I would tell you about healing. I would tell you the freedom of collapsing on the floor in tears crying out to Jesus, knowing that there is NOTHING in this life that I need more than I need Him. I would tell you about nights when tears were cried in joy and celebration. I would tell you about the lightness and laughter after the healing power of the Holy Spirit washed over me. I would tell you about the time in the shower I couldn't stop laughing because of the joke God told me.

I would tell you that these last three years have been some of the most painful, most challenging, most beautiful, most incredible years of my life. I would tell you that I have never felt more like myself and that I have never loved myself more. Not because I am better, but because I am broken and made new. I would zip myself up, look you in the eye and say, "I'm so thankful I don't have to hide these scars from you."

I am so thankful...

1. Brokenness and the way He enters into every corner of it, shining His healing light and love.
2. Friendships forged in times of trial.
3. Snow, even if only for the morning.
4. Snowboarding for the first time in THREE YEARS.
5. First rail slides and my incredible cheerleader, The Mustachioed Woodsman, who high fived me each time I did one.
6. A snowy weekend away with the youth group leaders in Glenwood.
7. All day at the cabin with just The Mustachioed Woodsman, his dog and me.
8. A new friendship full of love, joy and truth.
9. The process of making pie crust.
10. Laughter.
11. An outdoor fireplace and a cup of french press.
12. The same God who placed the stars in the heavens knows MY name, and knows exactly how to love me, and LOVES me.

walls

They stood there, tall enough that I had to stand on my tip toes to see over them. Four walls of brick and mortar, built with my own hands. Built to keep me safe, built to keep him out, built for the purpose of protection.

Inside these walls that were supposed to offer safety, all I felt was alone. I could hear the emptiness fill this place, just big enough for me and no one else. “It’s better this way, just me. I’m safer without anyone else in here,” I told myself as I poured water into the powder that would become the mortar that held these walls together. “Not too big,” I thought as I laid out the footprint of the box that would become my home. “I don’t want people thinking they can come and stay.”

I'm writing at A Deeper Story today. You can read the rest of the post there.

it's kind of nice, talking

My lips are tight, and I cannot smile. Not a real smile, not a Haley smile. Just to the left of center on my lower lip, pulling the skin taught, cracked and aching, and the other almost perfectly centered between the corner of my mouth and the middle of my upper lip, five days closer to healed, a dull ache. I don’t know where you’ve come from or how you got here. There is nothing to do but wait.

Each time I try to smile, each time he makes me laugh, each time I start to speak, they pull. Serving as physical reminders of what I fear. You’re only pretty on the outside. You are ugly inside, and now everyone can see it. This isn't real. He won’t want you if you don’t have something to offer him physically.

But last night, last night I spoke the light of truth into that darkness. Confessed fear and insecurity. And was met with listening ears and more light. “It’s kind of nice, talking,” he smiled, glancing up at me while he diced tomatoes.