Complex.

It was a simple question.

“What happened here?”

Though I knew specifically what she was talking about, I mindlessly went down so many other roads.

Like those nights when I was 10 and felt so small and helpless because there was yelling and arguing and things being thrown around upstairs.

Like that time my boss said, “No one cares about your opinion,” after I’d finished an interview with a woman who’d been the victim of sexual and racial discrimination.

Something about THIS moment of fear allowed a wave of old junk to rush in. Tell me if this happens to you sometimes, too.

So I recognize the old junk and I name it. Fear.

But there’s something else in this moment, too.

It’s Pride. I don’t want anyone to know I’m hurting.

I want to be the strong one, the helper, the one who has it all together.

THIS shatters THAT.

So I dig into God’s word to encourage a friend (because that’s what I do now to take a shot at the devil) and this time I encouraged SEVERAL friends because I know the TRUTH that I don’t have to let fear cripple me and I want others to know this freedom, too.

And I find this from Paul who was talking about a ‘thorn in his flesh’ that God would not take from him:

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power will rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:9-10 NIV)

And I answer the question. And the doctor tells me it could take two months to heal and I could be on crutches most of that time.

And I admit to him that I am afraid if it doesn’t heal properly I will never be able to run again.

And that running is my drug.

And he attempts some kind of empathy like I’m overreacting as he jokingly tells my son how many toes he’s had to cut off.

I wince at the foot doctor humor and tell him I know that God is with me but I’d like to keep all my toes if possible.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”

Grace flowed in and I smiled.

Questions are simple.

Answers are more complex.

For more: I love what Holly Furtick preached about being a complex versus a complicated woman. It encouraged, challenged, and convicted me. The sermon was from our church’s Moodswingers series entitled “The Orchid and the Oak Tree.”

9 Habits of People Who Are Always on Time

Read this today on TIME – and felt that “I need this” feeling in my gut. Thought it might help you, too. I want a better product, so I’ve got to change some of my habits. Let’s do it together!

I am not ashamed

Writing the headline feels like a lie. I suppose it means I’ve been living with shame far too long.

I know now what it smells like… sin and shame. It smells the way my VW smelled this week when my cat piled out of it after having been trapped in there two days. Or at least I imagine if you could smell foolishness and fear – that’s what you’d get. This idea of the “smell of sin” crossed my path during a devotional I found on YouVersion. Timothy G. Walton writes, “One early American preacher traveled from town to town preaching the gospel message. It was witnessed that as he approached the outskirts of a town he would pause and say, I smell hell!”

The funny thing is, we can’t smell our own sin so well, even while we are keenly aware of the shortcomings of others. My cat certainly didn’t realize the gifts he left behind in my car would make our family hold our noses in disgust. And I’m thankful that I could shower the smell off of me, and shine myself up all pretty again before heading to work. Imagine the questions, “whoa girl, where have YOU been?”

But sometimes I can’t seem to shake the feelings of ugliness and brokenness inside me. Let’s face it, I’ve made far more mistakes than I care to admit. And the worst of it is, I’m certain to make more. But I didn’t always realize it while it was happening. I didn’t recognize my behavior as selfish, lazy, or judgy at the time. And I’m thankful that Jesus is so patient with me. Romans 5:8 tells us that “while we were still sinners, Christ Jesus died for us.”

This is such good news for you and me. Because it means Jesus loved me before I could do anything for him, or do anything to hurt him. And it means there is hope for us all to live UNASHAMED.

If you’ve known me for any length of time, you know I like to recommend books that have helped me work through some of my own gremlins. Brene’ Brown’s work on vulnerability and shame, and especially her book “Daring Greatly” has been huge in my understanding of the things that hold me back from living a wholehearted life.

Brown writes in the book’s opening passage, “Shame derives its power from being unspeakable. That’s why it loves perfectionists – it’s so easy to keep us quiet. If we cultivate enough awareness about shame to name it and speak to it, we’ve basically cut it off at the knees. Shame hates having words wrapped around it. If we speak shame, it begins to wither.”

So here I am. Admitting my shame, foolishness, and fears. Asking Jesus for forgiveness, and accepting his free gift of grace. As I do this, I feel lighter. I’ve given Jesus the only gift I can give him, and he accepts it with joy. Jesus turns my fear into faith so I can live unashamed. That’s genius.

We’re starting a new series this weekend called “The Genius of Jesus.” Click here to find the location nearest you, or join us online on the Elevation Network.

Gather

Occasionally to keep myself from giving up on this personal blog writing thing I link up with other writers across the nation for something called “Five Minute Friday.” We write for just five minutes from a one-word prompt. Today’s word is “Gather.” GO.

Recently I’ve been asking those in my closest work relationships to share with me the results from their Strengthsfinder assessment. It’s a great tool to build teams and help team members understand and work together better.

According to my test, my top strength is INCLUDER. It means I’m instinctively an accepting person. I don’t want anybody to feel left out, and I want to “stretch the circle wider.” It means, when I’m having a meeting or a party or a group function of any kind – I want to GATHER up everyone I know and help them feel included and important.

This kind of behavior I’m finding can drive some people crazy – including my husband and some of my closest colleagues. Thankfully we gatherers have learned how to get along with our hunters and learn and grow together. I’m grateful for the opportunities I have to work together with those in our church to make everyone feel welcome. If you’re an INCLUDER, too, you’d probably enjoy working in outreach like I do, or maybe you’ll find your sweet spot as a greeter in church.

No matter what your strengths, I hope you’re getting involved so you can feel the warmth of the group. Everyone is welcome.

I am not helpless

Their strained, angry voices would wake me from sleep in my basement bedroom. When I recall them now, though – I hear the fear.

My dad was afraid he couldn’t provide for our family. He was afraid he couldn’t measure up to my mother’s unspoken expectations. He was angry because she asked the wrong questions or looked at him with confusion, hurt, or despair that he perceived as dishonor or disrespect.

My mom was afraid dad would leave us for the friend he met at the bar. A part of her wanted him to go. But the other part was terrified she couldn’t survive without him. I remember she always wore a pained look on her face, even when she was smiling.

I remember her look of helplessness so clearly. I learned to despise her desperate cry for mercy. There was this hint of judgment in it – that somehow everything in her life that was wrong was everyone else’s fault. Her face said, “Help me, please don’t hurt me.” But it also said, “It’s all your fault.”

Their middle of the night outbursts made my little girl self feel afraid, angry, confused, and desperately helpless.

Though I’m all grown up now, I still have to daily remind the little girl in me that I am not helpless, I am strong in Christ.

• When my kitchen (or my entire house) is a mess and I don’t feel like cleaning it.
• When I’m up against many deadlines and I feel like all I want to do is pretend like they don’t exist.
• When I give in to my boys who keep asking to play video games.
• When I see my calendar for the week ahead and the crush of appointments makes me want to cancel it all.
• When I look at the income/expenses columns in my budget and want to cry.
• When my husband asks for help with tasks while so many of mine remain undone.

John 15:5 gives me hope in these helpless places. God’s word reminds me how much I need Jesus, and how if I can remain IN HIM, he is right there with me to help.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”

Apart from me you can do NOTHING. At the start of this year, our church spent five weeks learning this chapter of scripture, and I want this one line “apart from me you can do nothing,” planted deep in my heart. The series is called “The Power of Same” and it is so powerful.

Would you join me this month leading up to Easter as I seek to replace the lies in my head with God’s truth? I’m coming to realize I’ve been wrong for so long about how best to approach the daily problems I face. I cannot defiantly push through any more. My patience runs out. My joy turns to despair. My faith turns to fear.

I can’t blame others for my problems. If I don’t like something in my life, I have the power to change it. It may not be easy. But it will be worth it. What kinds of changes have you made this year that help you work through feelings of helplessness? I need all the help I can get. I promised myself I’d give up despair for Lent.

For more on how to be a stronger, wiser woman, my friend Lysa TerKeurst preached on making wise choices in the midst of endless demands during our Elevation Church series “The Best Yes.” The book is amazing. Her message is called, “One Wise Woman.”