Tiffany Berg

Navigate By Joy

2011-08-14T09:06:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was speaking at a success workshop for kids. The group was comprised of 45 youth between the ages of 8 and 13 years old. I was teaching them about E.Q. versus I.Q. and the value of being able to articulate feelings. E.Q. is the quotient each of us possesses to say how we feel, ask for what we need and articulate what is going on in our hearts.

Each youth was given an assortment of colored pencils. I asked them to pick a color initially that represented their "upset" feelings. For each one it was represented by a different color. And then I asked them to pick the color that represented "happy" to them.

For me that color is yellow. Something about the color yellow ignites me, fuels me, does my heart good. It evokes images of brilliant days on the beach, sunshine, fields of happy sunflowers, drives in my yellow XTRRA, and sales at Walmart smiling at me. It makes me feel joy.

There is power in finding what brings you joy; the giggling, infectious, gotta let it out, holding your belly joy. Equally as powerful is clarifying what brings you pain.

When you find those two polar opposites there is born the ability to navigate your life in such a way that no longer depends on luck, but is guided by clarity.

Luck cannot be the fuel of your life for it is rare. And you cannot always avoid the realities of pain in the human existence.

Find your happy spot, your happy color, your joy. Navigate and fuel your life by it - and you will find your life path is truly miraculous adventure.

God's Not A Side Dish

2011-08-04T10:17:00.000-07:00

As I walk the halls of the ICU I can see into each room. Most of the patients are lying in the hospital beds with ventilators, beeping monitors, white gauze wrappings and crumpled non-important linens. In some rooms I catch the eyes of the visitors. Always the same look.

Lost.

Usually the patients in ICU are not coherent. It is the visitor that is alert. And the visitor is suffering.

As I stop at certain rooms and sit for a while, listening to the hurts as a Chaplain, I have the profound opportunity to follow the trail of breadcrumbs into their deepest pain. Almost all of those I talk with in those rooms wish they had made God more important in their lives.

It's in those moments where we might lose someone we love that we become introspective. It's in those moments that we realize our life has been full of many things, career, money, possessions, ego . . . and that none of them really satisfy. All of the investments of time and energy truly never fill our spiritual bellies like the depth and sweetness of a relationship with God.

In those moments people realize that God is not a side dish. He's the main course.

It's easy to get caught up in the day-to-day responsibilities and go weeks without God. We have the time to buy that iPad, see that latest-greatest movie, try out that new restaurant . . . but in the buffet of life, we find ourselves too busy, too full of other things . . . and God time ends up looking like that half a peach with a scoop of cottage cheese.

Friend, I hope you never find yourself in an ICU with ventilators and beeping monitors. I hope you never find yourself sobbing by the side of a bed begging God to help you make sense of a terrible loss.

But if you ever do have those traumatic moments . . . I pray that you've feasted on God daily so that you have the spiritual strength to endure tragedy. I pray that you've gotten to know God's character, trust His power and will for you and your family, and feel His divine hand in your life.

In those moments big and small, I pray that you've made God the main course.

You see, God's not a side dish. He's why you came to the table in the first place.

The Honest-To-God Truth

2011-07-31T08:23:00.000-07:00

None of us like to look like liars.

But we are. In big and small ways. None of us want to be seen as self-deceived sinners. But we're that too.

It's an interesting dynamic to be human. We're smart enough to hide our sins, cover our tracks and plead innocence, and we're just narcissistic enough to imagine it doesn't matter to God. It does. And, ultimately, it really does to us too.

So friend, and I'm calling myself on it just as pointedly, when was the last time you told the honest-to-God truth about your life? When was the last time you sat down with your Heavenly Father and laid out the good, the bad and the ugly?

I'm not a hell-fire-and-damnation Christian at all. I believe God to be a sweet, tender, loving Father with a plan of Atonement through the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. There is a way to be forgiven for our failures, our indiscretions and even thoughts that often derail us. The first step is to have a "come to Jesus" moment.

In my Chaplaincy program I see this "come to Jesus" moment up close and personal at the hospital when people are facing death; either their own death or the loss of someone they love. In that moment even those who've questioned the existence of God, weigh in on the choices of their lives with fear,trepidation, regret and sorrow.

We need not wait til the end of life to balance the internal budgets.

The Bible tells us in Psalms 32:1-5
"Oh the joy for those whose rebellion is forgiven, whose sin is put out of sight! Yes, what joy for those whose record the Lord has cleared of sin, whose lives are lived in complete honesty!

When I refused to confess my sin, I was weak and miserable, and I groaned all day long. Day and night your hand of discipline was heavy on me. My strength evaporated like water in the summer heat.

Finally, I confessed all my sins to you and stopped trying to hide them. I said to myself, "I will confess my rebellion to the Lord."

And You forgave me! All my guilt is gone."

There may not be room to tell every single person in your life the truth about your journey, your sins, your weaknesses, your inner change of heart or your pain. Really, they may not care. They may not even be aware of your turmoil or self-deception. However, God cares. And in all honesty, you care.

If you were sitting alone in an emergency room, saying goodbye to your parent, your child, your spouse . . . or if your life were to flash before your eyes in a car accident today . . . what flashes would you see? What negatives would you want to NOT see?

Every minute we are alive we are given the grace to approach the throne of God in prayer and tell the honest truth. God promises us that nothing can keep us from His love and forgiveness.

So today . . . let it be that day . . . the day to tell the honest-to-God truth.

Go ahead. He's listening.

The Power of a Mother's Spit

2011-07-17T09:19:00.000-07:00

I'm one of those moms that out of instinct I lick my palm and swiftly pat down the unruly stalks of blonde hair on my son's head. Of course, he immediately backs up and with disgust rebukes me, "Aww mom! Geez Louise! When are you gonna quit doing that??? I'm eighteen now!"

Ya. I'm that kind of mom.

And I still threaten to take my kids over my knee if they don't behave. Even my son who towers at 6'1 KNOWS I'm dang serious. Well, at least in principle. : )

He knows I mean business. When I say no tattoos if you're living in our home, I mean it. If I say not a drop of alcohol in our house, I mean it. If I say get your butt in gear in your Math class, I mean it.

It's not that my kids are perfect. And I'm not a perfect mom. But I come from a long line of mommas that mean business. I've seen the power of a mom that spits on her hand and doesn't let her kid go out in public without taking responsibility for themselves.

Years after my own mom wouldn't hesitate for a second to wash my mouth out with soap for a bad word, pull inappropriate posters off the wall with a vengeance, or hunt us teenagers down at a party if we'd snuck out the window . . . yeh. My mom did all those things. And thank God.

We always knew my mom was serious when she said something. Just a look had us scrambling.

As I watch the news and hear about road rage, theft, violent teens killing or hurting their parents or young people vandalizing religious buildings, I'm grateful for my mom's pure grit.

I'm thankful for the spankings with the pancake turner and the times we had to hug our siblings and make-up. I'm a better person directly because of it.

The next time you hesitate to discipline your child, the next time its easier to just pick up their socks or bring them the lunch that they forget AGAIN for the third time this week . . .

. . . just remember there is power in a mother's spit.

It may just be several years until you see it's fruition.

Spit on your palm and flatten the unruliness anyway.

I Wanna Be A Hottie - A Hunka Burnin' Love

2011-03-18T07:14:00.000-07:00

What's really "hot" these days?

Ads on Facebook tell me there's a new wrinkle cream, and commercials during "American Idol" coax me to buy a bigger tv screen. There's a new "Smartest" phone, a provocative steamy singles' website, and a late night wonder drug to lose weight without trying, promising to make my thighs tight and my aging buttocks super lean and sexy. So many hot products, hot ideas and hot salespeople chanting mantras into my home and my life, promising success, love, sex, prosperity . . .

And then I open my Bible . . . 1 Corinthians 1:27 "God deliberately chose things the world considers foolish in order to shame those who think they are wise. And He chose those who are powerless to shame those who are powerful. God chose things despised by the world, things counted as nothing at all, and used them to bring to nothing what the world considers important, SO THAT no one can ever boast in the presence of God."

I want to know what God wants. Want to know what is top priority, what is HOT in God's perspective. Not necessarily what the world thinks is hot. I want to be a hottie, not a "hauty" . . . God says there is a difference.

Some years ago I visited the city of Orleans, France. The real place on the map, the very city that hid Joan of Arc during very turbulent times in French history. Joan of Arc was a hottie. She had visions of leading the French to victory - and as a peasant farmgirl who told of visits by angels - she DID lead the French in battles that seemed impossible. She led soldiers to battle and then to victory. She burned with a call from heaven, and with that conviction and call she was burned at the stake at the end of her life.

What do I burn for God? Do I burn with a vision given by YOU? Am I on fire with a message that You've given me for the world or do I smolder in my own weaknesses or puny ambition?

God, I want to be a beacon for YOU. I want to be part of what You're doing, a light that compels people to find YOU. Inspire me, ignite me, let me burn for truth and see Your victories in people's lives. Let my life be at stake and let me live with a call from You, not a call from Oprah, a call from a publisher, or a cat-call from the peanut gallery. Let me be a hottie in all the right places, not a "hauty" with selfish motives and agendas.

Help me burn the ships, burn the bridges, burn the avenues of retreat that keep me going back to weakness, playing small, and robbing my life of the effectiveness and victories YOU have for me.

1 Corinthians 1:18 "I know very well how foolish the message of the cross sounds . . . but we who are being saved recognize this message as the very POWER of God."

God, make me a smokin hot hunka burnin' love - and burn with the kind of love that comes from being on fire for YOU. Whoot! Whoot! Watchout world - girl on a fire comin' through!

"I Can't Breathe" And Other Yoga Affirmations

2011-03-14T20:45:00.000-07:00

Glancing quickly around the room I knew I was doing it wrong. Trying to collect my thoughts and realizing "I am truly a dork", I caught the smirk from my 14 year old daughter. It was our first yoga class ever, and here she was already chuckling at me. I had to laugh too.

My legs were now in a pretzel and my hands, palm to palm, pressed together vertically, parallel to my nose . . . I felt like a poser . . . my newness like a beaming neon light. "Breathe in," the instructor said in a calming voice. "Breathe in a breath of victory, breathe deep down filling up your lungs like your heart is smiling."

Hmm. Breathe in victory? Can I do that?

My mind wandered while I gripped the mat with flat hands and raised my bum in the air like an upside down "V". Hey, V for Victory. That's right. Victory breathing. Am I breathing??? Then back down to a child's pose. Ahh much easier.

Victory thoughts . . . what victory memories do I have that I could breathe in? My mind traced back through the calendar to . . . oh yes. Holding my babies for the first time. Each one a victory. My first book . . . I remember flipping through the pages and realizing that was my name on the front cover. Breathe.

And now into a push up, then hold. And keep holding. Oh my gosh my arms are shaking like spaghetti. I can't hold this position. Oh my gosh! And then down. I can't breathe, I can't even catch my breath!

Victory breaths. And then I remember the day I thought about suicide. That was a dark day. I didn't. I chose life. HUGE victory. And the day I chose to quit drinking. White knuckling. Shaking but determined. Another huge victory. And the day I chose to try yoga even though I knew I would look ridiculous. With that, I breathed in a HUGE smile. Today is another great victory. I'm alive. I'm sober. And I'm doing yoga.

Sweeping my arms around like two big windmills into the prayer position in front of me . . .

Ya. I'm a beginner at yoga. But man, do I know victory.

(now if I could just get my legs out of this dang pretzel . . . : )

It's All In How You See It . . . Or Don't.

2011-02-22T16:43:00.000-08:00

The other day I was making homemade noodles using an old family recipe. I've made it a hundred times, rolling of the dough, cutting the noodles, laying them out to dry. In the process I touched my eye. A tiny speck of wheat flour landed on my lashes and found its way under the eye lid and onto my eye ball.

The speck of irritation became immediately annoying. I rubbed. I teared up. I rubbed more. I blinked. No luck.

Within hours my eye was red and puffy like I'd been on the losing end of boxing match and still . . . I could not get that speck of wheat flour out. Now if you've ever seen ground wheat flour it is like sawdust, like sand, like, well, a small little curse of metal shavings basically on my ever sensitive eyeball.

How could such a tiny particle of wheat flour do so much damage? I could hardly see, was perpetually winking at people in the market, on the road, even hours later as I talked to my children. Ridiculous really.

It was so irritating. Yes, that is what is was. Irritating. And I was irritable.

As I looked up the synonyms of irritable:

—Synonyms
1. snappish, petulant, resentful. Irritable, testy, touchy, irascible are adjectives meaning easily upset, offended, or angered. Irritable means easily annoyed or bothered, and it implies cross and snappish behavior: rude and hostile; Impatient and irritable, constantly complaining. Testy describes the same kind of behavior or response, particularly to minor annoyances: always on edge, testy and sharp in response; testy and petulant, resenting any interruption. Touchy emphasizes oversensitivity and readiness to take offense, even when none is intended:

I've always believed that things that happen physically often are a mirror of what is happening emotionally. The sooner we get the emotional lesson, the sooner physical symptoms can resolve as well.

Yup - that has been me for the last while. Irritable. And over the tiniest of things. Snappish. Testy. Resentful. A speck of dust, a flaw in someone else, an imperfection, an obstacle that keeps me from seeing clearly.

I was so grateful when the wheat flour speck found its way out so my eye could heal. And I was grateful to see clearly without being irritated.

Oh the lessons life gives us - it's all in how we see it isn't it?

Crystal Clear

2011-02-21T18:03:00.000-08:00

I had an amazing experience the other night. A chance to try a new sport, well, new to me anyway. Snowshoeing.

For years I've dreaded winter, dreaded the snowfall, dreaded the cold temperatures. I've rolled my eyes as the avid skiiers in Utah would cheer for the white powder, they being elated as the snow pack increased. The more it snowed, the more they cheered. And the more I stayed inside and became depressed.

Seriously. I found no joy in winter - not inclined to stand on thin sticks with pokers in my hand and speed down a hill of ice. Not interested in the broken leg, the concussions, the crowds. Nope, not interested.

But then, the other night, I found snowshoeing.

Strapping on the funny tennis racket looking contraptions, I took my first steps. And then, out onto a beautiful blanket-covered golf course. The moon was out, bright and glowing on the pristine rolling hills and it was silent.

One foot in front of the other. The back of the snowshoes kicked up a light chilly powder freezing my calves, while my body warmed with the exercise. Beautiful. All I could feel was my heart enlarging in my chest and being so enraptured in the love of snow. I love this snow. Oh my goodness. I LOVE snow.

Funny how our paradyms change in an instant when we find the right fit. The right expression, the right setting, the right stretch. Crystal clear.

And all I can think today is I'm excited for winter. This winter. Next winter. And the one after that. Just THINK the places I can snowshoe!

I may never ski a Black Diamond run, may never enjoy the wind in my hair seated on a chair lift, may never see the top of the mountain, but I'm excited to say that I've found something I LOVE. And whenever you find something you LOVE, life gets that much sweeter.

Would have never thought it before - but I'm absolutely digging snow. Me of all people. Makes me smirl a little. And here I thought I had myself all figured out. That's funny. Thank heavens for the new things in life that keep reminding us we're works in progress.

Bitterness - Bringin' It Home Baby

2011-02-07T07:19:00.000-08:00

I came down with a nasty headcold and sore throat this week. It's slowed my run to a crawl, and fogged up my thinking. I haven't been as productive as I've wanted, spending many hours curled up in bed fighting chills.

Saturday night was a doozie.

Had a prescription called in, headed to the pharmacy, and my car broke down. It was dark by then, I felt awful, aches and chills, and now my car wouldn't start.

On my drive there, I had been listening to an Anthony Robbins CD as he interviewed Steven Covey about following your life's gift. And there I sat. Freezing with a fever, and now in tears, realizing I had a new crisis to solve. I felt very very alone and overwhelmed. Who do I call? I'm in unchartered waters here.

The CD player was dead too, but Anthony Robbins' voice kept repeating in my head - all of the positive mumbo jumbo hype he talked about so elequently seemed in such dramatic opposition to what I was experiencing.

This is where the rubber meets the road friends.

I realized sitting there I could get madder and more bitter and self-pitying than a one-legged man in a butt kickin' contest, or I could get humble. Either, or, but not both.

It's Monday morning now. I'm following up on my car in the shop - having been able to get it there safely. I had a sweet weekend in spite of my car loss, in spite of feeling under the weather, in spite of the Steelers losing the Superbowl : ) I feel more clear headed and am hopeful this week is going to be a good one. I wish my car wasn't in the shop, but, that's part of owning a car isn't it?

A couple of verses hit me this morning in my Bible time that seemed to ring true to my car drama.

Romans 5:6 "When we were utterly helpless Christ came at just the right time . . . "
Helpless moments are our most transparent moments - in moments when we are at the end of ourselves, we are able to acknowledge just how dependent we are. That's not a bad thing . . . ugh . . . not a comfortable thing, but not a bad thing. Christ did not fix my car, but trusting Christ fixed my character in that moment.

Ephesians 4:31 "Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words . . . instead be kind, tenderhearted, forgiving . . . "

In those moments where life really does a number on us, we choose. Either, or. Instead. Bitterness OR tenderness. Rage, anger, OR forgiving, kindness.

That decision is 100% up to us personally. That truth is upsetting at some moments, empowering at others.

When the rubber meets the road, bitterness is an option. Peace of character is too.

Pick one.

Life will continue to be life, with its car breakdowns and all. That will never change. Thankfully God has given us the opportunity every single day -

Either - OR.

You choose.

"Pay No Attention To The Man Behind The Curtain"

2011-02-06T09:38:00.000-08:00

I remember the first time I watched The Wizard of Oz. I was so upset when I realized the Great and Powerful Oz was simply a grey haired man behind a curtain. In my young heart I was devastated for Dorothy and her friends who had travelled so far and hoped for so much . . . I was disillusioned right along with them.

As I've been reading and learning and searching and praying about bitterness the parallel is a powerful lesson.

Bitterness is big and loud, a mean face with colored smoke and thunder - The Great OZ - it shakes you where you stand so you back up and don't come any closer. It intimidate and scares, it threatens and attacks our peace of mind and confidence.

Yet in reality, behind the big, ugly, loud, mean bitterness (in others and in ourselves) is small fear. Puny in its form, but ashamed, small, and cowering.

Let me show you. Trust me for a minute. I want you to see something.

There is something in your heart that you're bitter about. Oh, you've called it many things, but it's bitterness. Maybe towards some one, some thing, some situation . . . and it gnaws at you. It's angry, ugly, jealous, contempt . . . maybe something you've never even shared with anyone . . . but it's bitter.

See the colored smoke whirl around it, the loudness, in fact, let it get as big and mean as it can possibly get. Let it take its true form, as ugly, spiteful, vengeful, angry as it can get. I hope you'll even turn up the volume and let the words and thunder explode and shake . . .

Ok now. Look to the side and see the small curtain. Carefully pull it back. And let the production, the smoke, the big ugly image, the noise . . . let it stop.

And see what's really behind the curtain.

The big production of bitterness is simply the distraction of our own heart and mind - to distract us from our greatest fear.

"What if its true? What if I really am broken?"
"What if I really am unloveable?"
"What if I really am too far gone?"
"What if I'm really a loser?"
"What if I really am . . . blank . . . "
"What if I really have sinned too much?"
"What if I really do need help . . . "
"What if what they say is true?"
"What if that person never loved me?"
"What if I really did deserve this?"
"What if I can't ever succeed?"
. . . add your real fear here . . .
"What if I really am these things . . . and people really knew . . . "

Bitterness is our minds way of rerouting us away from our real pain. Our real fear.

Now look at that fear - look at it for what it really is. A scared, shaking, big-eyed, lonely hurt.

THAT question is what you take to God Himself. You don't take it to your friends, you don't take it to your ex, you don't take it to Anthony Robbins or Dr. Phil, you don't take it to your old boss who fired you, you don't take it to your church . . . you take that very real fear to God.

You take it to the Bible and find out what God says about it. You take it to God in prayer and listen for an answer from Jesus Himself. You take it as a handwritten letter to the cross and nail it there for Jesus to read and reply . . . HIMSELF.

Only then will the smoke, the thundering, the anger, the production of bitterness disappear from the stage of your life.

The production and ugliness of bitterness is a decoy - to fool you so you won't feel what you really feel anyway.

Bitterness yells, "Pay No Attention To The Man Behind The Curtain" - closure says, what's behind the curtain fuels the whole production.

Heal what's behind the curtain. Then bitterness in all its ugliness can disappear.

And what would your life be like if there were sweetness, closure, and peace?

Click your heels together. Come home to yourself. Come home to what's really hurting you. Come home to God and the bigger things He wants to do with your heart.

Face the fear behind the curtain and come home.

Recipe For Bitterness

2011-02-03T19:08:00.000-08:00

I have a flour dusted, oil spilled, warped 3 x 5 card that bears the recipe of my mom's famous chocolate chip cookies. That's a recipe everyone begs for. They are delicious, time tested, unforgettable.

Just this morning I came across a recipe for bitterness. Not sure how many will beg for that on a 3 x 5 card, but I hope by sharing it you might see it when its being stirred up in your own life.

Bible: Ruth 3-4 The story of Naomi. It's really the story of Ruth and how God blessed her and kept her, but it's also about Naomi and the recipe for bitterness.

Long story short. Naomi has several sons. They marry and the entire clan moves to a new area. The sons all die. Naomi tells her daughters-in-law to go on with their lives and find new paths. Ruth (one of the daughters-in-law) chooses to stay by Naomi's side and go back to Naomi's homeland with her.

When Naomi goes back to her hometown she is so devastated at how her life has turned out that she tells her friends to call her by a different name. "Mara" - which, interestingly enough, means "bitter mountain".

Naomi says, "The Almighty has made my life very bitter for me. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me home empty. Why should you call me Naomi (which means pleasant) when the Lord has caused me to suffer and has sent such tragedy?"

So, we see a recipe for disaster that could apply to us too.

Step 1. Start with Loss of identity - losing our identity in our hurt
Step 2. Add Blame - blaming God (and others) for our losses - never ourselves
Step 3. Mix in the "Has Been" feelings and the "I had it all once . . . " self-pity and sprinkle in the feeling of being robbed unfairly -
Step 4. Bake on high and seal with a victim mentality of "suffering and tragedy"

Naomi was right smack dab in the middle of her own bitterness - a recipe she cooked up out of her own pain. Sadly, she stayed there for a long long time.

She would not allow her heart to feel joy. She clung to how right she was about God being so wrong. She wanted people to know that she had suffered, that she deserved her agony, and that she was a victim.

I know people like this.

I also know people who have had terrible, tragic circumstances play into their lives and they have chosen to claim their divine God-given gifts and callings, have chosen to focus on giving and serving, and have developed an inner gratitude that is magical. They are contagiously happy, warm, loving and encouraging.

They choose to bake up something different in their lives - something sweet, something worth savoring, something they can scoop up in spoonfuls with their children, that fills their home with an aroma that is remembered forever.

Now that? That's a recipe worth having.

* the day following this blog on bitterness I watched my friend Katie's YOUTUBE video. Katie is one of our Heart 2 Home volunteers and comes out on every project, working right along side everyone else in the dirt, paint and chaos. She's a no excuses kind a gal. I've been inspired by Katie and her choice to pursue sweetness. Watch this video and you'll see exactly what I mean. She could have cooked up some fine tasting bitterness in her life and been justified, but instead she created sweetness - and it blesses EVERYONE around her!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-csZlbMGdhM

Driven By My Sweet-Tooth

2011-01-31T07:50:00.000-08:00

Yesterday the pastor on TV spoke of bitterness. He spoke of the damage it creates in our hearts and the pain it creates in our lives and our perspective. It really hit home for me.

Things haven't gone the way I'd planned in many areas of my life. It would be easy to slip into bitterness, wrap myself up in it like a cocoon and close up, feeling absolutely justified. Life can make you very bitter if you let it.

But, I see there is a very simple driver in my heart that won't let me.

It's my insatiable craving for sweetness. My God given sweet-tooth.

The Bible says that "for the happy life is a continual feast". There's just way too many sweet things in life to stay bitter.

Laughing with my kids in the kitchen making "tohhh-st" (thank you Nacho Libre), holding my grandbaby and watching her smile in her dreams, my puppy jumping on my bed like a teenager left alone for the weekend, the excitement watching my girlfriend on QVC for the first time . . . it's so so sweet.

I'm driven by my sweet-tooth and completely compelled to spit out the bitterness. Compared to the joy, the laughter, the beauty, the light, the clarity, the satisfaction . . . well, there is no comparison.

I carefully peel back the cupcake paper liner revealing another helping of relationship, thankful for the goodness, the kindness, the sacredness . . . and glad I've learned this about myself. I believe life was meant to be sweet.

No matter the road. No matter the trial. No matter the possibility of bitterness.

Thank you God for giving me a hunger for sweetness. It keeps me ever vigilent for the next sweet fix and always grateful for the moments I am able to revel in it.

Snotbubbles and Grace

2011-01-18T09:23:00.000-08:00

There's something about snotbubbles and grace.

In struggles we fight the tears, we fight that we're right, and we fight our position. We wall up, clam up and shut up to maintian our ground and maintain our dignity.

And then, something clicks in our hearts, God sprinkles some kind of magic fairy dust, and for whatever reason grace comes crashing in. Past the walls, past the fear, past the "rightness" of our position and perspective, past the dignity . . . and sure enough . . . there's the snotbubble.

And then you know.

Weird how that is.

But you know God lives, He has a plan for your life, even though that path takes you to hell and back, and you know you are desperate for His grace.

Nobody wants to surrender. Nobody wants to admit wrong or lose dignity. Nobody wants the snotbubble moment. There comes a point when you must. For your own good.

Right there in the middle of the snotbubble and grace you start hearing in the back of your mind that age old Journey song "Don't stop believin . . . hold on to that fee-leh-innn".

Amazing how God gives us signs that make sense only to us.

Journey, snotbubbles and grace.

The perfect combination for surrender.

Outside The Boat Thinking

2011-01-17T11:28:00.000-08:00

When we're in the thick of a problem its hard to see the answer among the variables before us. Our own human pathology got us into our crisis, our dilemma, our storm, and that same pathology lacks the missing link to get us out. We've got to think "outside the box" or as I like to say "outside the boat".

In our emotional and spiritual storms the waters rage around us and we're tossed about, fearing all is lost. We don't have the answers. Surely this sad foresaken ship is bound to sink.

The disciples were in the same situation. Storm raging, waves crashing, thunder and lighting tormenting. Nothing inside the boat could calm the storm, right the rudder or shelter them from the whitecaps. They were adrift with no escape and they feared the worst.

From the mist a voice called to them. The voice of the Master.

A voice that stilled the winds and the waves. A voice that answered their greatest fears.

Christ approached the vessel miraculously walking on water, and the storm was over.

The answer came from outside the boat.

As you survey the storms around you today, know that the answer you need is not inside your human toolbelt somewhere. It is not inside your reasoning, your box, it is not some new strategy, it is not some hype or drug. The answer that will bring peace is not inside your circle of friends, not on Dr. Phil, and not in the latest greatest Og Mandino chant. Although those things may open your heart and help you ask deeper questions, with deeper insight, the real answer, the ULTIMATE answer will come from "outside the boat" thinking.

So in your storm pray for the answers you DON'T have, the answers you've NEVER had before, the revelation you are DESPERATE for. Not the answers you've used before to simply plug holes and bail water to stay afloat.

The POWERFUL, storm-calming answer will come from "outside the boat" thinking.

To Bite Again - Or Not To Bite Again - That Is The Question

2011-01-16T20:54:00.000-08:00

Over the last couple of years there's been an explosion of teen vampires in movies, paperback, hardback, and literally on backs (in the form of t-shirts). The theme of being bitten for love, and even the theme of eternal love, has been the romantic premise for the bat-like fangs and pale white skin. Once bitten one can never go back. The act transforms the human into vampire being, now destined to live forever in the darkness and be tormented by the need for more blood.

Thank heavens that is not real life. And thank heavens that God has a bigger plan than the life of a vampire.

The word "remorse" actually means "to bite again" from the latin word "modere". And sin, yes, has a bite. It is painful. Our guilt has us feel that bite over and over and over and . . . well, you know . . . you've been there.

When we make awful, rotten, human mistakes - even huge ones, shameful ones, ones that sting - there is forgiveness. Not just a little forgiveness. All the forgiveness.

We wish we could go back and change our decision, but we can't. Thankfully even with our biggest, most painful bites, God can still transform our nature. Not just for now, but for eternity.

While God forgives us immediately, we must also forgive ourselves . . . and not allow the phantom sin to bite again.

Remorse is one part of guilt. And it's not the healing part.

The final scene is that of wholeness. No guilt. No two-pronged vampire bite scarred on our necks to forever remind of us a wretched past. "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." Really. The atonement covers all. End of chapter. End of book. End of sin. Forever. Period.

The hopeless romantic in me just found hope again. What a great ending to the greatest love story of all.

Lost In The Fog

2011-01-15T07:15:00.000-08:00

As we pursue the path of our lives it is essential that we evaluate our motives. What are the driving forces behind the decisions that we make? What are the investments we are making along the way, and what do we hope is our final destination?

At times, and in certain seasons of growth and change, we feel lost in a fog. We feel paralyzed to move forward, incapable of seeing past our own feet, and trapped in a suffocating blanket of uncertainty. We have no vision, limited hope and perspective.

Author Susan Forward in her book "Emotional Blackmail" speaks to this FOG. When we are controlled by Fear, Obligation and Guilt, especially when we are in relationships that use that pattern to motivate outcomes, we cannot see our true path. Relationships that put us in a "fog-like" mindset are disabling and paralyzing.

Reading the Old Testament I am reminded that the children of Israel were led by a fire in the day and a cloud at night. The right path for them was clear when they followed those two signs.

It is an interesting connection then the image of fire, often trite sayings refer to having "a fire in my belly", passion, light, excitement, drive. When we have a "fire under our behind" we have a renewed energy and focus to complete it.

And clouds...clouds inspire creativity, looking up heavenward, imagination, and beauty. Our path to God, our path to happiness, and our path to our divine mission in life must be led by both passion and creativity, drive and hope, conviction and vision.

So in your life are you being led by passion and vision or are you stuck in a FOG? Do you dream freely or are you bound by unhealthy patterns?

God is the God of clarity, passion and big vision. FOG can lift, and the path can be made clear if you have the courage to address the FOG for what it is. Keep your eyes up and follow the clouds . . . even if you just watch them for a few minutes at a time . . . there is more possible than you ever imagined. God is the God of clarity and can find you even in the thickest FOG.

Even Mother Teresa Wasn't "Mother Teresa"

2011-01-03T07:32:00.000-08:00

There are days when our best efforts fail. Days when we simply don't measure up. It hurts . . . and we feel undone, unworthy . . . hopeless.

"I can't do it," we whisper to ourselves, bowing our heads in defeat. "I'm no Mother Teresa. I'm just me."

We compare ourselves, in fact, we compare our weakest selves, to an image, a standard, an epitome of what we believe God wants. What we believe others want. What WE want. What we expect of ourselves. Falling short of that image, that expectation is crushing. The yearning in the gap is soon filled with shame, frustration and self-loathing.

A book opens, tattered pages, dirty, smudged ink . . . a line can be read . . . "Where is my faith? Even deep down ... there is nothing but emptiness and darkness ... If there be God — please forgive me. When I try to raise my thoughts to Heaven, there is such convicting emptiness that those very thoughts return like sharp knives and hurt my very soul ... How painful is this unknown pain — I have no Faith. Repulsed, empty, no faith, no love, no zeal, ... What do I labor for?"

A journal found. Could this be your journal?

This journal was written by an elderly woman dying of heart failure. A woman whose life changed the world.

You see, Mother Teresa felt she'd failed. She felt her best efforts to be trivial, empty, rejected. Her concerns, her yearning in the gap, she wrote about in journals and she shared fears with her spiritual leaders.

Mother Teresa never saw herself as THE "MOTHER TERESA". She saw herself as simply Teresa _ underscore. Not Mother Teresa, Nobel Peace Prize Winner, legend, relief to the millions of dying, rescuer of the unborn, global epitome of compassion and mercy.

The woman we revere as having the most noble and strong heart, died of a weakened heart . . . and with heavy personal fears of failure before God.

Her writings were to be destroyed by her wishes. She felt her failings and flaws would hinder others, not inspire them.

Seeing her "real-ness" does just the opposite. Knowing that Mother Teresa wasn't even "Mother Teresa" reminds me that perfection can be a pursuit that undermines true strength, true beauty, true faith. Our own perceptions and expectations can blind us and rob us of joy and any feelings of fulfillment about our lives and our passions. A standard that breaks us is not the standard or expectation created by a loving, kind, compassionate Father in heaven.

A Savior and Redeemer would not be needed if sheer perfection through drive could be achieved. It can't.

Let God fill the gap between the ideal and reality. That gap is only as wide as His outstretched arms on the cross. It has been covered. Bridged. Trust that.

Even Mother Teresa wasn't "Mother Teresa".

Time Falls One Direction

2010-12-27T18:48:00.000-08:00

An hour glass tipped anew begins its release of sand grain by grain.

Mesmerized I watch. It's no secret how this happens. Gravity captures each grain of sand and moves it against its will, pulling it through the center, landing each one upon another in a growing mound in the bottom bulb.

It is a peaceful feeling - a sense of surety - until the final grains. Then, as always happens I feel a pang of anxiety for the end of the process. The last sand rushes down faster than did the first and as if flowing over Niagra Falls, the silent final sands seem to shout a haunting message.

Time only falls one direction.

As I tear another page off the calendar I have much the same feeling. December seemed to fall faster than the earlier months of the year. December hastens a new year, and as the flowing over Niagra Falls, the quiet final days of December seem to shout the same haunting message.

Time only falls one direction.

The sands fall, the clock hands turn, the calendar rolls forward, pacing, ever pacing, the experiences of our lives that make us who we are.

Heart, be ready, for the New Year and another turn of the hour glass. A new beginning. Heart, be faithful, to those hours that will be yours. What will you do with them, those hours and days? What will you fill them with, those boxes that sit empty on the calendar? Heart, be good. Use your grains, your days, your boxes to be a blessing. Heart, be thankful. There are only so many grains in the glass, only so many days . . . and only God knows that number.

Oh heart, be wise. For time only falls one direction.

Stopping The Insanity For Real.

2010-12-08T11:45:00.000-08:00

In the 1990's a mega personality emerged on the stage of infomercial late night. A bleach blonde, buzz-cut health and fitness guru named Susan Powter told the world about fitness, taking control of your life, and losing weight. She talked about pulling herself into recovery and choosing enough about her own life to stop the insanity and get results.

Her energy was loud, big and motivating. It got many women angry enough about the state of their lives that they took charge and made changes.

Fast forward to 2010. Sanity check. Susan Powter still does videos. http://www.susanpowteronline.com/index.php/site/susan_store/
She still rants about health and self-esteem. But the empowerment has dulled to a tattoo'd anger, the joy and enthusiasm for life has turned to a cranky desperation. Perhaps the insanity didn't really stop?

God has a better plan. It's not based on an angry rant, a hostility for the unjust, or a new tatoo. It's based on peace, forgiveness, kindness and honesty. It's based on healing, clarity of thought and timeless principles.

The only way insanity really ever stops is when God is in charge of our lives completely. Driven by our own insanity we all will fall short and the glitter will all fade.

No super hype late-night guru will ever lead you better than the God of the Universe can. He created you for greatness, greater than any 20 minute infomercial gadget or catch phrase. The steps He needs you to take are raw and real but can change you forever.

Today's the day. Stop the insanity - your own insanity. Stop the ranting and the craziness. Let God lead. For real this time.

Starting Over - Way Over

2010-12-04T20:24:00.000-08:00

I met Stacy Hanson as he lay in a hospital room weeks after he'd been shot in Trolley Square mall. He told us about the 18 year-old gunman . . . how he showed no emotion as he shot innocent people in the parking lot and then in the stores . . . and how Stacy had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time, buying a Valentine's day card for his wife. The injuries sustained by the bullets would paralyze Stacy and place him in a wheelchair.

It would be almost a year later that I would witness Stacy take his first assisted steps - in that very same hospital. Towering over 6 feet tall Stacy struggled to move his braced legs . . . one at a time.

The wheelchair will always be needed, but the attempts at mobility are monumental. Each attempt strengthens the muscles, reminds the tissues, and is a witness of the soul's yearning for freedom. It is incremental and elementary. It is starting over.

Life is not linear. It is not a horizontal beam, nor is it a staircase to be climbed, but more a circle of learning and relearning, coming and becoming. Sometimes to move ahead we must go back, farther back than we want in most cases, to retrieve the parts of ourselves that we have left there.

A grown man sweating and struggling with his second first steps. And rejoicing that he moved his legs of his own accord. Truly a miracle. Not one he would have chosen out of wishing to be a better person, but definately one he chose out of wanting to be free.

Sometimes to move forward it feels like we're going back. Remember, life is not linear. Trust that God brings it all back around. And you will be better for it. Even if it means starting over. Way over.

Unprecedented

2010-12-02T17:14:00.000-08:00

A long time ago far far away I learned the word "Unprecedented".

It was in the introductory remarks of my brother-in-law's speaking video. The faceless emcee of the video began . . . "in a world of unprecedented change . . . " and it continued on to feature the speaking of the legendary Art Berg.

I heard that introduction a million times and still did not know what the word meant. When I looked it up in the dictionary I realized it was a word that would change my life.

un-pre-ce-dent-ed: adj. never before experienced or seen

The one thing I've learned for certain in my life is that to get a different result you MUST change something in the equation. To get more, soar higher, achieve better, love deeper, see clearer . . . you can't do what you've always done.

Precedented therefore is habit. Pattern. Repeat. Same same. Like it's always been. Taking the same road, pursuing the same goals, failing in the same manner, and settling in the same ways . . . for the same results.

As I've pulled that word "Unprecedented" into my heart and soul - embracing it as I realize how very much I need what it offers - I recognize that it also means letting go of what's "precedented", the prison, the non-productive, the comfortably wrong, the expected.

God I don't want to be the norm. I don't want to be inprisoned by what I've always been. I want to be more. I believe you want that for me too.

Make me a new creature in YOU. With a new heart, new eyes, new vision. So that I can experience life UNPRECEDENTED - as I've never ever experienced it before.

Interactive "We"

2010-11-27T17:31:00.000-08:00

Two of my daughters really struggle. They are so different in their personalities that they sometimes butt heads. Ok, most of the time they butt heads. One loves horses, the other loves bling. One loves the granola look, the other loves make-up. One loves country music, the other loves hip-hop. They just could not be more polar opposite.

Every time they get on each other's last nerve I tell them the same thing. "One day, you two will adore each other. You will call each other on the phone regularly, share struggles, unload the heartaches of raising kids, ask help with financial burdens, and confide about your marriages. One day, you'll be estatic to see each other." They look at me like I'm an alien.

Honestly it makes me laugh. But I know I'm right.

I don't know where I'd be without my sisters.

Really, my family in general. There have been ups and downs and sideways - and still, I know it is my family that keeps me on track, keeps me asking the right questions and focused on the right answers. It's my family that builds me up, convicts me with grace when I'm erring, and encourages me when I'm lost. It is my family (and especially my many sisters) that knows me better than I know myself.

I believe God made it that way. I believe He wanted us to be surrounded by people who would have an impact in our lives so powerfully that in spite of our humanness, and our dysfunction, it would continue to draw us home. I see it with my own children.

Families - our Interactive "We" - built by God to surround us in support, discipline, silliness and love.

I'm grateful for technology, but I thank God for the invention of families. What a smarty pants God is. The whole time I was teasing my little sisters and begging them to go play with their own friends instead of mine . . . God knew . . . that one day, we would adore each other. We'd call each other on the phone regularly, share struggles, unload the heartaches of raising kids, ask help with financial burdens, and confide about our marriages. And one day, we would be ecstatic to see each other again.

Oh how blessed my life is because of my family.

Thank you God. For the interactive "we" You've created.

A Nickel At A Time

2010-11-25T08:58:00.000-08:00

Relationships are a lot like bank accounts. Deposits increase the reservoir, while withdrawals decrease it. Every interaction, in or out, has an effect on the total. As I look at my bank statement I see that even when I think my accounts are innactive there is still a monthly fee, or on some accounts a return with interest. Daily I must log on and carefully determine how to manage each account so I don't end up in the red.

Sadly, just like bank accounts, relationships can end up in the negative. How does this happen? Every single one of us WANTS to be in the black. Every single one of us WANTS to be successful. Nobody PURPOSELY chooses to be destitute or go bankrupt.

The hardest part is watching what hangs in the balance and at the smallest level, evaluating the negatives, even if they are a nickel at a time. It is those nickels that pull the balance lower and lower. Unwatched, unchecked, unaccounted for . . . even nickels can pull an account to zero.

Watch the real deposits. See the real costs. Daily, even hourly, acknowledge the bottom line.

As any successful investor or financial planner will tell you that the greatest success or the greatest demise, happens a nickel at at time.

The wonderful thing is that even for the simplest of minds (and I definately put myself in this category) managing a nickel at a time is doable.

As I open my purse I see silver coins at the bottom that yesterday I overlooked. I haven't been paying attention. Taking a nickel from the bottom I memorize the stamped impression.

Today I will begin seeing my nickels for what they really are.

In my bank and in my relationships. A nickel at a time is doable.

Forcing Bulbs

2010-11-11T08:50:00.000-08:00

Some things you can force. Some things you can't.

Like love. You can't force love. Like a butterfly it hangs beautifully in the air, silently watching, testing the safety, then landing and extending itself, opening more as the safety increases. Love rests and spreads its wings when it finds a place of peace and warmth.

Bulbs are similar. The term "forcing" bulbs is a misperception, for you see, it is not a "forcing" at all. It is only the creation and nourturing of an environment that lends itself to growth. Water, sunlight, gently being held in place . . . the bulb cannot hold back . . . but is completely drawn out by the irresistable warmth. Even in winter.

Children are this way, marriage and friendships are this way, flourishing ventures are this way . . . it is about the environment. Certainly it is about the passion. But, not about the "forcing" of anything.

You cannot force people to buy, you cannot force children to be endeared, you cannot force joy, you cannot force trust. You can only participate in the creation of safety, warmth and peace.

A butterfly hovers silently beside you in your life. Are you safe enough, warm enough, and at peace enough for wings to land and open? Is your influence irresistable and your kindness and compassiona a refuge? Hunger for that presence and peace. Let your life be a creation of that kind of compassion and nourturing.

You see, you can never truly force bulbs.

Truth Is Brewing

2010-11-09T11:46:00.000-08:00

Five o'clock each morning Mr.Coffee begins steaming and sputtering. The caffeine infused vapor rises up the stairway into the loft of the master bedroom - and I pull on my comfy booties, oversized white sweatshirt, and shuffle down to kitchen. Pouring myself a mug of hello - I wrap myself up in a blanket on the couch with my bible. And as everyday begins with my coffee, every devotional begins with my same prayer.

"God, I'm so small in my thinking. I know that. You are so great. Please open my eyes to what you need me to see. Call me out of my brokenness and show me a better way."

And it's as if since God knows I will meet Him there in those early morning hours, He places the verses in order for me to find them like a path of breadcrumbs. They unfold like a conversation in the old Kung Fu movies where young grasshopper is taught by the sage in the flickering lights of a thousand candles.

Today the words press into my heart . . .

"We can gather our thoughts, but the Lord gives the right answer. People may be pure in their own eyes, but the Lord examines their motives. Commit your work to the Lord and then your plans will succeed." Psalms 16:1-3

And in the kitchen Mr.Coffee sputters. Ahh. Truth is brewing.

Today God reminds me that He, the Master of the Universe is examining my motives. And, as the verse says, I see myself pure and noble, even though, as I bow my head with the realization, I clearly am not. I do have ego. I do have agendas. I do want my way. And I do hurt people. Ugh.

"God let truth brew within me. Let me listen to YOUR right answer, not my own or one made of my own perceptions and selfish wants. Let me see success WITH you, not in and of myself. For then, it will truly be success."

So thankful that God meets me each morning, Him and Mr. Coffee . . . and I get to keep learning about what is right and real.

Truth. My cup runneth over.

Courage To Stand

2010-11-08T11:15:00.000-08:00

There are times in our lives when courage, like the tide, ebbs and flows. Some days we have more courage, other days, having been beaten down by stress or loss, our courage is depleted. Honestly, in the last little while, my courage meter has been very low. Thus began my paddle boarding adventure.

Visiting my friend Sheri at her new digs close to Malibu, we remarked a lone woman paddling away on a sparkling ocean at sunset. "We should do THAT!" Sheri squealed. Instantly the safety list in my head began in decending order . . . starting with sharks and ending somewhere in the land of salt water stinging my eyes. Seeing her enthusiasm I was quickly crooned into a nearby board shop, complete with surfer staff and lei-clad mannequins.

Within minutes we were donning wetsuits on the beach with paddles in hand and yellow boards at our feet. Balancing on the sand was good practice for foot placement but would offer zero practice at the real challenge: standing up on the same board adding swells and waves to the effort.

Our instructor hooped and hallored from the shore as we paddled frantically into the surf, trying to time our pass into the deep between the crashing waves. Minutes later all of us were beyond the crashing waves and out into the big blue. And there the lesson began.

First kneeling and paddling for practice, then wide stance, STAND. Using the paddle to propel the board in the desired direction, but also using it as a balance, a newfound delight took hold of my heart. A delight called COURAGE.

As each swell would wobble me, and I would lean away, hold my board to balance, and manage to stay standing, I could feel a passion growing, just as the smile on my face continued to broaden. I was standing - in the ocean - on a bright yellow board. I had paddled out into the deep. I had challenged my fears - and I was standing.

Never will I forget the elation I felt standing on the ocean. It was a reminder to my soul that limits are of our own making. And thus, so is adventure. We get to choose the passion we pursue, the adventures we seek, and the happiness and peace we feel in it all.

It just takes the courage to stand where we've been afraid to stand before.

Stand.

Ridiculous in Tights - Relational Cross-Training

2010-11-02T16:32:00.000-07:00

Some months ago I had the opportunity to see Olympic Medalist Apolo Ohno in person. Speaking at a huge arena in downtown Salt Lake City, dressed in a sleek black suit, the young athlete took the 20 x 20 foot stage, and poured out his soul to the thousands of strangers in stories of tiered seating.

No regrets. Training with a "no regrets" philosophy. Performing at his ultimate best. And then, how being a contestant on "Dancing With The Stars" actually made him a better speed skater on the ice.

It was a different discipline, a different challenge, a different training, and definately a different way of seeing his own personality. Each week on the show he would learn tangos and shuffles that he would never use on the ice, ingrained only to pull him through a 3 minute routine on a dance floor in front of the American TV audience. It stretched him. It pushed him out of everything he knew about himself, competition, and training. In fact, it was completely, laughably, random. Which made him so much better.

In our most significant relationships, the ones in which we have the most to lose or gain, the ones which define us the most, the ones in which we find our identity, I do believe once in a while God cross-trains us. He takes us completely and laughably, out of our previous training and places us in a foreign environment. All for the sake of rounding us out, stretching us, and helping us see ourselves differently. Completely, laughably, different. Seems random. But its not.

Our roles change, from mother, to nurse, to coach, to friend, to accountability partner, to confidante.

Our disciplines change, from meekness, to leadership, to mentoring, to encouraging, to patient listener, to laying down the law, to goal setter.

It's embarrassing to cross-train. As, in Ohno's experience, knowing that America is glued to their TV's, shocked to see a testosterone exuding speed skater donning tights and nickers . . . the movements are awkward, forced, foreign. The daily changing and stretching painful and choppy. New habits lending their way to fluid movements.

And then, lifting someone else. And then winning the highest number of Olympic medals in Winter Olympics - EVER.

Relational cross-training. God does that. He knows changing up the disciplines will make us champions. Even when we hate being embarrassed by the training it takes.

So if your life seems random and what your relationships require of you is a skill set you never possessed, and you wonder if you ever can . . . you're in heavenly cross-training my friend.

Don't let the tights bug you. It's all part of it. Just go with it. Because when you look back on your life, it will be the cross-training that will have taught you to not only compete for the gold, but to truly dance.

Pitching For The Hiroshima Carp

2010-10-30T18:21:00.000-07:00

We all have big dreams. With our God-given talents and abilities we build our dreams with the sky-is-the-limits attitude. And then, life happens.

A young baseball player, a pitcher by skill, charting his course to baseball success. Each step along the way building upon the last and his future seems to whisper victory. And then a rotator cuff injury. And then, a shot in the spotlight . . . pulled in to cover for an injured Major League player goes terribly - a horrible first impression given to the major leagues when the green hopeful crumbles under the big lights.

And then worse.

"Hey man, I heard you left the country. What are you up to these days?"

"Uh. still playing ball. Yeh, I'm playing with the Hiroshima Carp."

"The what? chuckle chuckle. You're playing for the WHO??????"

"I know, I know. looking down at his sneakers Yeh, me and my family we moved to Japan. I'm playing for the Hiroshima Carp."

That's rough. Not what a "wanna be" superstar wants to admit. I'm playing for a Japaneese team - the Carp team. Do you know Carp? Are you kidding? There is nothing grand about Carp. It's not powerful like a viking or a giant or a tiger.

And yet, tonight as I watch the World Series, a confident Colby Lewis shoots a steel glare at the batter, and winds up his arm ready to unleash a bullet.

When asked if he was nervous about the World Series, Colby says, "No. Uprooting my family and moving to Japan for me to play for the Carp? That scared me. This does not scare me."

You see, that detour that hurt his ego, that detour that was so unplanned, embarrassing, degrading, upsetting, which he could have seen as an impossibility worthy of scrapping a career . . . actually turned out to be the detour that he needed. The additional training, the focus, the redirection of playing for the Carp made him a better player . . . which he admits . . .and today . . . he is a champion with his team playing in the World Series.

Has your path ever taken a detour? Do you have a black eye from a bad experience in the major leagues of life? Are you down and out? Are you alone in the dugout with your cap in your hand scanning the empty seats littered with empty paper cups wondering the fate of your big dreams after what's just happened?

Maybe God's got you pitching for the Carp right now on a detour that is training you up for the big leagues. You see, in God's training no effort goes wasted. He is raising you up to be better than you ever knew.

Keep pitching. Even if it's for the Carp for a while.

Friendly Fire

2010-10-27T06:05:00.000-07:00

The Washington Post told the story, "Kidnapped British aid worker in Afghanistan killed in NATO rescue attempt". She was 36 years old. Speaking of her profound love and commitment to her cause, the story continued . . .

"We are saddened beyond words by the death of a wonderful woman whose sole purpose in Afghanistan was to do good - to help the Afghan people achieve a measure of prosperity and stability in their everyday lives as they set about rebuilding their country," James Boomgard, the president and chief executive of DAI, said in a statement. "Linda loved Afghanistan and cared deeply for its people, and she was deeply committed to her development mission. She was an inspiration to many of us here at DAI and she will be deeply missed."

As forces were amassed, as the intensive rescue operation was planned, as skilled teams set forth to risk their lives, they knew there was a possibility that people would be hurt, even dying, to leverage the retrieval of this one woman.

Sadly, after much investigation, one of the lives lost in the rescue attempt was the very life which was sought to save. Linda's.

It was the last thing people wanted to see happen. It broke hearts, devastated family members and horrified those who walked through the rubble.

It was a failure.

Or was it? When we endeavor to rescue, when we set our path to save, sometimes people do get hurt even when the motives are noble.

Friendly fire. A risk in all great endeavors. The last thing anyone wants to see, and yet, a risk we take in our deepest relationships, pursuit of our dreams, most compassionate attempts to reach out, save, protect . . . and yet, without taking that risk all would be lost anyway.

Take the risk. Rescue what is lost. Free what is captive. Life is about redemption.

Risk the possibility of being wrong, the possibility of making huge mistakes, even loss, for the possibility of saving something precious.

Risks of the greatest kind are the seed to the most powerful miracles. Hurt is always a possibility in any great and impossible endeavor. And the attempt is the only way you know for sure what is truly possible . . .

All She Knew Was She Loved Monkeys

2010-10-21T11:27:00.001-07:00

Destiny. Anthony Robbins touts about his "blind date with Destiny". We all are pursuing it, actively or passively. What is "my" destiny? How will I find it? Does God have it written out for me? Is it in pieces like a puzzle in front of me waiting for me to put all the edges together first and then fill in the middle?

My eyes and heart scan the horizon for stories of Destiny. How did other women find theirs or essentially carve theirs out of life like a stone David . . .

And I find the story of Jane Goodall. The woman who single-handedly set the scientific community in an uproar over discoveries in the monkey community and whose name will go down in history as the woman who lived among them. Did she know at the start that would be her legacy, her destiny? I think not. She just knew she liked monkeys. That was all.

A young Jane Goodall went into the jungles of the Gombe Stream Game Reserve with basically no education to speak of, not even an undergraduate degree. She just wanted to watch monkeys.

As she observed she found "Greybeard" - the old chimp that opened her eyes to the depth of the monkey connection. From him she learned insights, patterns and habits that would put in question previous understanding. Greybeard changed paradyms in Jane's mind, as well as the paradyms in science and history. What she thought she knew, what the scientific community thought they knew, was about to change forever.

And thus is the pattern. A desire, a "like" an attraction, a "love" draws us to a new place. In that new place we find teachers and lessons that change us. And that learning, that changing, is our destiny.

What are you being drawn to? What new unconquered terrain are you compelled to explore? And who are the teachers around you? Are your paradyms shifting? Is your thinking being challenged?

Your destiny requires you to move out of your comfort zone and learn and change.

The root being love - because love draws us out. It compels us to stretch.

Great women of destiny have been drawn out for love - Ruth Hadler in her creation of Barbie, Princess Diana in her love of those sick with AIDS, Mother Teresa in her compassion for the dying, "Daisy" Low who founded the Girl Scouts of America in her encouragement of teenage girls discovering the great outdoors....each a destiny which drew them out for love.

A blind date with destiny doesn't have to be so blind. The heart sees it clearly. Follow love and your destiny will follow.

All Jane knew was she loved monkeys.

2010-10-05T20:48:00.000-07:00

Hmmm...Paris. One more item on my life list - check. Never thought I could ever go back. Beautiful. Magical.

This song brings muted images in black and white . . . it's been 20 years and still the thought of the Eiffel Tower in the back drop, the bridges, the culture, the taste . . .

Here's the link to Benton Paul's song "Paris" . . . feel the cobblestones . . . homesick for a black and white life - and an understanding for the shades of gray.

http://www.myspace.com/bentonpaul

There comes a time for everyone
To find a place where they belong
Feeling alone out on the ocean

Yours and mine are different yet the same
Go out, come back again
Harboring most of the emotion

Quand tu arrives a Paris
(when you arrive in Paris)
Tu ne veux pas partir
(you won't want to leave)
Quand tu arrives a Paris
(when you arrive in Paris)
Tu ne peux que sentir
(you can't help but feel)
L’amour, la joie
(love, joy)
Tu veux jamais rentrer
(you won't ever want to go home)
L’amour, la joie
(love, joy)
Tu veux jamais rentrer chez-toi
(you won't ever want to go home)

You climb aboard and sail away
Beyond the stars of everyday
Searching for some clear direction

The shore gets closer everyday
The clouds begin to fade
The compass reveals your destination

Quand tu arrives a Paris
(when you arrive in Paris)
Tu ne veux pas partir
(you won't want to leave)
Quand tu arrives a Paris
(when you arrive in Paris)
Tu ne peux que sentir
(you can't help but feel)
L’amour, la joie
(love, joy)
Tu veux jamais rentrer
(you won't ever want to go home)
L’amour, la joie
(love, joy)
Tu veux jamais rentrer chez-toi
(you won't ever want to go home)

Beautiful. Magical.

Homesick in black and white.

Reverse Psychology - Run The Other Way

2010-09-26T08:35:00.000-07:00

Run the other way. I'm learning I say that to myself.

There is such a tendency to pick up your bat and ball and go home. It's natural. We get our feelings hurt. We feel discouraged. We want to give up.

And wow. Isn't that our ultimate demise in achieving any great pursuit? Giving up or giving out robs us of victory.

Sometimes we see our losses and close our hearts. "I don't want another puppy" as we bow our heads and decide love and dreams will never grow where despair and hurt reside. It's too heavy. It's too hard.

Yet, when we fall to our knees and unpack those bags of hurt and pain and loss at the feet of Jesus . . . what consistantly happens is from behind His white robe He extends a warm hand, holding a newborn fluffy yellow chick. A new dream. A dream that needs us. A dream with a future.

And He asks us to stay and nourture it and love and grow . . . and He trades our filthy rags and clutter for that baby chick.

And we don't want to run anymore. We want to participate and be needed and make a difference.

God has an irresistable influence in our lives by the way He changes us when we want to run away. Running is OUR nature. HIS nature is the opposite - He draws us out by our bigger desire . . . to be used in the hand of God.

Wanting to run away in your life?

Hold out your hand.

God gave me a little yellow peeping fluffy chick to give you . . . smile. God knows you. And He knows in your heart you don't want to run. You want to stay. You want to love. You want to grow. You want to be amazing. It's as easy as holding your dreams as sweetly as you would this little baby chick.

Peace-Loving in the City

2010-09-24T09:40:00.000-07:00

At night I love to open the blinds to my master bedroom window and fall asleep watching the lights of the city twinkling on the horizon. It is a peaceful feeling that is comforting in a way I can't quite explain.

In my bible time I came across a story in which a specific phrase keeps echoing in my mind. Here is the setting:

2 Samuel 20:14-22 Sheba was an evil wanted man. He escaped to a city called Abel and hid himself among the people there. Joab and his army was searching for Sheba. Recognizing that in their pursuit of Sheba, the entire city of Abel could be destroyed, a woman of wisdom came to the wall of the city and had a very straitforward conversation with Joab. "I am one who is peaceloving in this city. Why do you want to destroy us?" (paraphrasing)

To which Joab replied "I do not want to destroy your city. I only want Sheba."

The story concludes with the woman and her fellow citizens giving Joab what he needed and peace in the city was maintained.

In our relationships we often become defensive and build walls. We can feel threatened and frustrated when we feel attacked. This is normal.

What shows wisdom however is when we say what we need concisely, and find out what the Other needs. How can we maintain our city, our boundaries, our sovereignty, and also give the Other what they need? Is there a way to do both? Many times both parties are looking for resolve and peace.

Ponder the statement of that wise woman . . . "I am one who is peaceloving . . . " If your goal is to be at peace, grow peace, flourish in it, and nourture peace . . . stand in that place firmly and listen.

That is powerful holy ground. Find it.

Before I close my eyes tonight I will open my blinds and God and I are going to have a conversation. As I drift away in the glimmer of twinkling lights, my heart will be asked, "have you been peaceloving?"

God bless me to be that person today -

The Sky Is Falling

2010-09-21T09:15:00.000-07:00

Our family went to Lake Powell for a few days last week. The weather was amazing and the water was perfect. We squealed as we tubed the lake, sweated as we hiked the incredible red rocks, and enjoyed friends and random silliness. We camped our tents a 20-minute boat ride from the marina and soaked up the scenery completely.

I'll never forget being awaken during the night by boulders pulling away from their settings and crumbling to new places. In all of my trips to Lake Powell I'd never experienced that. The thundering echoed like the cracking of a bowling ball into pin after pin - only louder - shaking the ground. In the dark we could not see the boulders cracking and tumbling but the reality left us all speechless. We were not in danger's way . . . but as the waves of breaking rock echoed, we all had a sense of awe and smallness. That night the landscape changed.

This morning I received a text from my daughter that a dear friend had passed away in the night. As well, the news reported that a handfull of homes had been lost to a tragic wildfire just cities away from ours. And on facebook I sadly noted two police officers were killed in their vehicles as they sped to help others. The landscape has changed forever overnight for many families.

To realize we are simply visitors here, that we are surrounded by forces we do not control, and that the landscape is always changing, ebbing, flowing, building and falling . . . it is powerful.

What is my part God? What DO I control?

We control relationships. That is all. We get to choose who we love and how we love on this journey. We affirm our character and our humanity by the way we reach out and encourage, bless, and carry those who suffer when the landscape does change.

Today the landscape is forever changed for someone. Be there.

It's all part of the big picture. In reality, that IS the big picture.

Rocks Float

2010-08-13T08:49:00.001-07:00

There are seasons in our lives when it seems our BIGGEST personal demons surface and shout in our faces - it's as if the skeletons in that dark corner closet come out and demand to be addressed. They taunt us, tempt us, insult us and scare us . . . reminding us in the most venomous ways that we've failed before. They want us to fail again and speak so convicingly that we will always be bound by them.

These could be money failures, relationship failures, sins, self-destructive habits, secret passions, anger issues, or trust issues. At certain seasons even a combination of these smack us with a 1-2 punch and we feel down for the count. Even though we want success, when these issues come to the surface so big, so loud, so obvious . . . we can't help but doubt our own strength against them.

My friend Kirk Weisler, a motivational speaker and phenomenal story-teller, told me a principle that has made all the difference. He told me about a truth that occurs in nature that baffles - until you understand the reality behind it.

"Rocks float." That's what Kirk told me. "Yeh, they do! It's the craziest thing! You wouldn't think so, but they do. You see, when smaller pieces of dirt, sand, small pebbles shift with the movements of the earth, they settle in and the larger size rocks move up. The boulders are not really floating, but they are moved out by the settling . . . the layers settle and the rocks at the top become visible."

That understanding has helped me greatly when I feel barraged by "issues" that surface in my life. As I sit in my bible/prayer time with God, I realize large boulder size issues come to the surface when I am making progress, when there is movement and transition - good transition and growth in my life. WHEN I am at a pivitol point in my life or my career and WHEN I am about to see UNPRECEDENTED success emotionally and spiritually, that settling brings the rocks, the boulders, the big demons, the unfinished business, the personal dragons, straight to the top.

I get to choose what I will then do with them.

In the past I have often chosen to burry those big boulders again - deep down so I don't have to do the emotional work and drag them off my property. But I've found if I don't deal with the boulders they just find another time to pop up in my face.

I'm learning I must push and hoist and heave and sweat and get rid of the big rocks.

I want my life to grow more than just boulders. I want to sleep at night with no demons, no secrets, no addictions, no cracks in my integrity, no fear.

So let the rocks float.

And God give me the courage to see them for what they are.

Proof that I am settling. Proof that I am growing. Proof that they give me the opportunity to be more than I ever was before.

If I rely on THE Rock...the one true keeper of the vineyard...the one who wants to grow abundance in my life...and the one who knows my burdens better than anyone. The only one who can help me move those heavy boulders forever.

Jesus.

Who's helping you with your big rocks?

Know How YOU Learn

2010-08-10T08:31:00.000-07:00

I've been bit by the fishing bug in the last couple of months. Yeh, hook line and . . . Barbie pole.

I bought it at Walmart - ok, it's not a "Barbie" brand fishing pole, but it is pink and it is for beginners. I bought it as a starter pole because the line is enclosed in a cute pink and silver ball, helping me avoid the problematic and frustrating rat's nest that I seemed to consistently create while borrowing Scott's more "advanced" open spooled reel.

That worked peachy for basic fishing. Now I want to grow in my level of fishing from the once-a-year fisher girl to the oh-yeh-she's-a-pro fisher girl. So, I bought an open spooled reel and we headed up to our favorite mountain lake.

It was bad. Very bad.

Within minutes I had twenty-two feet of tangled line. Then the confusion set in. Followed by the situational tourettes, the swearing, the getting frustrated, and the ensuing disgust at myself for spending the money on the new reel when I clearly could not do it.

And then the practicing. Casting for the 99th time. Then the 100th. Then 101st. And finally . . . ugh. I could do it.

I've never been a fast learner. I swear it takes me 101 times to get good at stuff.

But my learning always takes the same route:

Want something.
Take a leap and commit.
Get really confused.
Then get ticked off because I'm stuck.
Then I swear.
Then in frustration I usually lash out at the people around me.
And I keep trying.
And KEEP trying.
And tell myself over and over to KEEP trying.
And then I get it.
And then to a stranger it looks like it was easy for me.
Ya right.

I'm working on the NOT lashing out in frustration at the people around me as I learn things. And, I'm working on being more patient with myself as I struggle to learn.

But one thing that really helps me achieve my goals is to know HOW I learn and then with any given goal, understand where I am at in MY learning curve. Understanding me, understanding HOW I learn, and understanding that I CAN grow and achieve what I really really want . . . that is helpful AND empowering.

Friend, perhaps you need to map out YOUR learning pattern. Because right now you might just be one good cast from achieving your goal. I know you want to grow in your competencies at things. I know you want to feel successful. You'll never get there if you give up today. Just keep casting. 99. 100. 101.

Keep, keep, keep casting. Today just might be the day. And it's gonna feel so good to retire that pink Barbie pole. ; )

Our Biggest Fear - Being Exposed

2010-08-06T14:05:00.000-07:00

There are statistics that indicate the BIGGEST fear most people share is being put on the spot - be it giving a presentation at work, answering a question in front of the class, or failing in public. Our greatest fear is being exposed.

Probably every one of you has had that dream . . . you know the one . . . where you show up to school or work in your underclothes. Duh-nuh.

It's paralyzing. Everyone is looking at you.
You look down at you.
The Spiderman boxer shorts, then your knobby knees, and then your toes, scared strait and white knuckling the pavement like monkey feet as you look down.
Ugh. Uh-oh.

But there is a greater fear that is so painful . . . the showing up in underclothes doesn't even compare.

It's showing up with our sin exposed.

Greater than our fear of botching a toast at wedding, bigger than our fear of doing the algebra problem wrong on the chalkboard, and more terrifying than exposing our Spiderman briefs . . . we fear others will find out about our "sin problem".

That fear, my friend, robs us of grace.

You see, when a person denies they have weakness, they deny the need for grace.

I've found in my life the moments of true freedom have been the moments that I confess my weaknesses to friends and family and ask for grace and accountability. It is at those times that God helps me face my greatest fear.

Exposing your sin invites grace. Be honest right now. What sin are you hiding? What do you fear others will say or do if you come clean?

My friend, God is good. Grace IS amazing. You are a wrech. So am I. We all have ugly sides, and skeletons that need healing. Accountability equals growth and change. Don't you want growth and change?

Find places and people that love God more than they love you. They are a soft place to land in the freefall of honesty. Confess what you're working on. Admit it. Invite grace in.

For then, living transparent, you will fear NOTHING. And even in your Spiderman boxers you'll feel confident. I promise.

Baiting The Bottom Dwellers

2010-07-28T06:23:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago the kids and I went to Lake Powell - one of the most beautiful places on earth with blue water, intense red rock canyons and private pristine coves.

One morning I woke early and tip-toed from my sleeping bag, grasped my pink fishing pole quietly and stepped across the rock to the water's edge. Having run out of powerbait the night before, and wanting to have a yummy catfish fry this morning, I broke off a dime scooped piece of hot dog and placed it ever so invitingly on the three pronged hook.

Casting the line 20 feet out, with my happy morning toes wiggling as I sat on the fire hydrant sized boulder, I began singing " . . . 'cause Oscar Meyer has a way with B-O-L-O-G-N- hey!!!!!!! WHOAAAAAAAAA!!!! OH my gosh, oh my gosh . . . "

Standing and wrestling with my pole as it dragged left, then right, I realized it was not a plant I'd snagged under the water, but a HUGE fish! Sadly though it was not a catfish, but a carp - not the breakfast I had hoped for.

Giddy that I'd enjoyed my first battle with a big fish, I loaded another hot dog and cast again. This time hoping for a whiskered kitty fish on the end of my line. SNAP! Withing minutes, another bite, another exhilerating battle with another Oscar Meyer loving fish . . . and again, another carp.

The carp were loving the hot dogs. But I didn't want carp. I was beginning to understand that certain bait catches certain fish. What I was putting out there was attracting specific results. And, carp, a bottom dweller, was not the result I wanted. I surrendered and had Raisin Bran for breakfast.

This past weekend we went to Vegas. A whole different type of environment with a whole different type of fish.

I watched as people were baited, hooks set, and reeled in by the advertising, the branding, the imagery, the sex, the appetites, the intrigues. I watched how people were lured and almost hypnotized by the lights, the alcohol and the anonymity. I watched how some swam at the top - taking in the talent and adventure and the good fun - while others lost everything, their moral compass, even their dignity, and stood with signs begging for a dollar desperate to gamble it away or drink it down with a cheap Vodka.

Every one of us is being baited. Call it capitalism, call it temptation, call it the law of attraction . . . whatever you call it, what hooks you, what keeps you, what inspires or enslaves you, will give you clues about your character.

Do you hang out in the fresh water, swim with the dophins, or are you a bottom dweller, gulping down anything that could possibly satisfy in the moment?

Something catches our eye, attracts us and pulls us in.

A word to the wise . . . be careful what that is my friend. It's all fun and games til the oil in the pan starts to sizzle . . .

BINGO! Seeing Yellow

2010-07-22T07:34:00.000-07:00

Driving with the kids in the car it is only a matter of minutes on the asphalt before someone shouts "BINGO!". Confirming excitedly a yellow vehicle of some kind, the BINGO caller is now a point ahead of the others in the car. From then on the rest of us are on a keen lookout.

It's become quite the obsession really. There is shouting and pointing and heckling going on until we arrive at our destination - even if its hours away.

The big kahuna though is the elusive pink car. And if its a volkwagon bug? Whatch out! (how does Scott always discover those hidden somewhere in a tiny parking lot?)

It is a challenge to strain your eyes and discipline yourself to pick out the BINGO from the gazillion non-point cars.

So . . . why?

Because it makes life better. Period.

Now does it really? We're still in a car, still traveling the miles (and sometimes many many miles while on our family vacations)and still a captive audience fighting traffic and bad drivers. But, the very discipline of looking for the win, THAT is an AWESOME life skill.

You see, there is a part of the brain that is the recognizing system, technically speaking, called the Reticular Activator System. It will find evidence for ANYTHING you train it to find. Tell it to find evidence that you're a failure? IT WILL. Tell it to find evidence that no one likes you? IT WILL. Allow it to build a case that life is hard and love will let you down? IT WILL. Train it to find hope and inspiration among the gazillion other emotions and IT WILL.

Just like spotting the yellow bug in the grocery store parking lot, hidden behind that huge delivery truck . . . the second you see that bright yellow hub of a wheel you feel the excitement popping inside your throat like you know the answer on the final level of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire" . . . and . . . "BINGO!!!!!!!!!!"

See yellow. See hope. See inspiration, success, goodness . . .

Why? Because it makes life better. Period.

Suspended In Time

2010-07-21T12:42:00.000-07:00

I've been reading about suspension bridges. Built under precarious conditions, over chasms deep and wide and raging, suspension bridges make traversing a great divide possible.

Reading about James Roebling in 1951 who took the challenge - bridge the Niagara River Gorge - 825 feet across, 200 feet down, over rushing tumbling water 37.4 million gallons per minute. With faith, vision and a sense of purpose, Roebling built that bridge to the amazement of the world. First crossing with a kite, then a cable, then a carriage. He led the way and showed the impossible . . . was.

As I look through photographs I see that's what Paul did for so many of us.

Life and death so polar opposites. Or so it seems. And God? Seems so far away sometimes. When troubles come, stress invades, money dwindles and health escapes us . . . that chasm between where we are and where God sits . . . at times seems greater, deeper, and more dangerous in nature than Niagra Falls.

But Paul . . . what you did in such a gentle way . . . was you somehow create a bridge for so many of us to cross. Every surgery you faithfully and courageously endured, every treatment you embraced, every humorous angle in the suffering you found, every get together where you took the stage and made us forget OUR troubles . . . every one of those was a cable to the bridge you were building.

We did not see it at the time.

But days, weeks, months and a year has passed . . . and we got used to praying, got used to begging God for help, got used to looking for "the pony" in the piles of manure . . .

And now every time troubles come, stress invades, money dwindles and health escapes . . . there is a bridge to cross BECAUSE we saw you do it. You were afraid and still walked the walk. Your life was ending and you still had things that made you laugh and be grateful. You CHOSE to thank God instead of curse Him. As your friends, as your family, it was relavent to us, it mattered to us and it changed US. Now our job is to build bridges too - be God seekers too - walk the walk too.

Someday we will meet you on the other side of that great chasm.

Thank you for walking the walk and showing us how, as real people, we can live lives FOR God and WITH God.

Your life and the journey we walked with you, built a bridge.

Til we meet again on the other side . . . you taught us amazing timeless lessons and we are forever changed. Thank you for building that bridge and leaving such a powerful legacy that it ushers people over great chasms still . . . to a God that loves them.

Phantom Pain

2010-07-19T09:07:00.000-07:00

Many of my friends are in wheelchairs. Through association with the Utah Wheelchair Rugby team, as well as my connection with several motivational speakers, I have come to understand much about disabilities, handicaps and the loss of limbs and body function. Having assisted many beginning speakers who have overcome the emotional setbacks of a paralyzing accident or illness, I have learned many of the stages of acceptance that a person must go through when they become a paraplegic or quadreplegic. It hasn't been my life journey . . . but in a very real sense I understand losing extentions of yourself and the way it can paralyze your life if you let it.

A newly injured person has to come to a place of acceptance - a place where they understand the tools that will now assist them; a wheelchair, a walker, a cathetar . . and appreciate the value of the freedom these tools offer as opposed to resenting them and viewing them as prisons or punishments.

A newly injured person must at some point come to terms with their new circumstances and even rise to a place of gratitude for the life they still have . . . acknowledging that each moment is truly a gift and is endowed with a purpose and passion for which they were created and sent into this world.

A newly injured person must come to such a place of spiritual awareness as to be able to see photographs of themselves, photographs and images taken prior to the tragedy, prior to the loss, to see themselves with their limbs, standing, able bodied . . . and have them same level of gratitude and peace as they feel when they look in the mirror today.

If not, or until they can, the newly injured person will be angry, blame God, resent life, and act out with displaced hatred and depression . . . phantom pain. The pain of longing for a life that can produce no movement, no growth, no positive momentum.

There is a difference between grieving a loss . . . and coming to a sense of personal clarity for one's life and purpose . . . versus longing without fruition. Phantom pain.

Because I have watched some of THE most successful people - Paul Berg and Art, Clay Egan, Chad Hymas, Ken Reid, Briana Walker - not only face tragedy courageously, but wrap their hearts and mind around their new circumstances, and embrace it as a mission and a launching pad for higher thinking - because I knew that kind of resilience was possible . . . a year ago I prayed this prayer . . .

"God, I've seen other people rise from pain and allow it to awaken them. I've seen amazing individuals, Paul, Clay, Art and Chad and others take their pain and allow it to recreate them, build them, empower them to live life more fully. Please help me move from phantom pain, from longing, from resentment into a place of wholeness, a place of gratitude, a place of acceptance for my new life. Help me not resent my new circumstances but allow YOU to grow me . . . on purpose."

A year ago I knew I was destined to self-destruct in pain and longing if I did not follow their examples. Change is inevidable. Self-medicating is an option. Self-destruction is an option. Success and courage are possible. There is a difference between "longing" and "grieving" and the difference is phantom pain versus healing.

Thank God I had some of the most powerful real-life flesh and blood walk the talk examples of how to succeed after loss and paralysis. Because of those examples, those people, that prayer . . . I have a vision today for my life that incorporates great loss and great love. It is beautiful.

Paul never wanted his death to destroy anyone - he wanted his memory to make people laugh, live better and pray deeper. He wanted his death, if it had to happen, to wake people up to the love of God. And it did.

To Paul, to Art, to Clay, to Chad, to Ken, to Briana . . . your loss and courage and creativing after that loss has given me wings. God bless you.

It's All Noise. Pititful Noise.

2010-07-16T08:17:00.001-07:00

The last few days I've had a hymn rolling over and over in my mind. The tune I remember completely, but only a few key words stand out. These words keep bubbling to the surface in every white cap in my world today.

"Master the tempests are raging . . . Peace be still."
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/m/a/mastertt.htm
(click here for music and lyrics)

Having just weathered a windstorm at Lake Powell with the kids, and losing two of our three tents, a floatie and our 8 ft. picnic canopy (all sheered to pieces and broken) - I have thought a lot about the forces of destruction that often threaten our plans and happiness in other areas. How we weather small challenges gives us clarity about how we handle big tough challenges.

Hunkered down on a queen-sized air mattress that stormy night with my youngest daughter, huddled in 2 man tent, a great conversation was had. Terrified by the raging wind beating against the vinyl dome (now at a 65 degree angle due to the force of the gust), my little Hannah shook and cringed.

"Honey, I know it sounds loud. I know it sounds scary. But what you hear is the wind on the layers of vinyl. It's just noise. We're safe, but the noise is scary."

Calming a bit we both layed back and drifted off to sleep - becoming familiar with the shaking and flapping of the tent above us. (Scott had generously opted to sleep in Hannah's now vacant tent so mom could console her)

In the morning the wind was silent. The lake was a mirror. There were no clouds, no breeze and no fear.

Grabbing my fishing pole and tip-toeing to the water's edge, I cast my line and waited for a bite.

"Peace. Be still." After all the noise, and all the fear, all the scurry gathering up our belongings last night . . . everything was beautiful and still.

How often do we allow the noise of financial pressure, marital pride and control battles, co-worker bickering, stressful family drama, and other people's opinions, to brew storms in our hearts and minds? And how often do we allow fear to ruin our experiences in life and rob us of our joy? How often do we sit in our little tents, distracted and terrified by the noise?

God is bigger than the scary noise in your life friend. God is bigger than your storm, bigger than people's opinions and bigger than the damage done by any wind. Storms pass, noise is just noise, but right is always right and will always bring peace.

If you are in the middle of a storm that you fear will consume you . . . pray.
If you are overwhelmed by dark clouds . . . pray.
If you fear you will not make it until morning . . . pray.

Awaken the Master with your pleas . . . "Master the tempests are raging . . . "

And then let the Master stretch out His mighty hand and calm the noise.

You see, the victory is already won. With sin and death overcome by Jesus's sacrifice, everything bad from here on out is just noise. Pitiful noise.

Yesterday this truth hit home when I read Galations 6:14-17
"Because of that cross, my interest in this world died long ago, and the world's interest in me is also long dead. It doesn't make any difference . . . from now on, don't let anyone trouble me with these things . . . I belong to Jesus."
(section summarized)

I do belong to Jesus. God said it, I believe it, storm over. My soul is stilled.

"Master the tempest is raging . . . Peace . . . sweet peace . . . be still."

The Cross on the Side of the Road

2010-07-10T08:21:00.000-07:00

Cars flash past a gaudy bright yellow floral cross on the side of the freeway. Off the blacktop ten feet up on the embankment, it stands stoically . . . no words, no name, just stands. The drivers of the vehicles that pass by hardly notice it, and certainly are not moved to deep emotion as they listen to talk radio, manage their young toddlers, and chat on their i-phones.

At some tearfilled reunion a broken person brought that cross, to that sacred spot, to that hill, that patch of rocks, that mile marker . . . because something tragic happened there. The cross that hardly gets noticed is evidence of a profound loss . . . a wound that is still open and healing.

That cross proves a journey was taken . . . a pilgramage was travelled . . . back to that spot, back to that tragedy, that memory . . . to help process the loss that happened there.

The cross that is left is not for the deceased - for in reality the grieving know the deceased are in a better place, far above the busy freeway. The cross is not left for the distracted road-raged passerby who faintly notices the fading flowers. The cross is left for the grieving. It marks a meridian of time. It marks a private suffering. It marks a relationship.

More importantly it marks a journey and a process. With the placing of the cross at the scene of a tragedy, the grieving discover pieces of themselves that were lost at the scene. Those pieces of the puzzle, those pieces of themselves, are healing as they take their places and bring wholeness.

So today as you pass that gaudy yellow floral cross on the side of the freeway, pray for the grieving. Pray that they find all of the pieces of themselves that were shattered at that tragedy. Pray that they find healing to get back on the road, that they can again listen to talk radio, manage their young toddlers, and chat on their i-phones. That life can again be about amazing destinations, purpose and career and a life's work; that life can again hold joy and music and laughter.

Today when you see that cross on the side of the road, pray. Somewhere on that busy road there is a walking wounded picking up the pieces. And one day, if that walking wounded is you, I'll go with you to that side of the road and help you place a cross. I know the way. I know the grieving, the horror, the tragedy. I also know that life holds more than loss. It holds courage, renewal, the joy and beauty of touch and compassion. I know as you pick up the pieces God is there - He's always been there - and He will show you how the pieces fit, one-by-sacred-one.

You see God knows all about crosses.

He died for you on one.

Bring It.

2010-06-27T21:26:00.000-07:00

"No. And I mean HELL no."
My friend Clay egg'd me on. "Hey, if I can jump out of a plane - YOU can!" My face could not mask my surprise when Clay explained that he, Scott and I's quadreplegic rock-crawling celebrity friend, jumped tandem out of an airplane.

I shook my head emphatically. "There is NO way I would ever do that - not in a million years. I'm afraid of heights! I'm just too scared."

That conversation took place some months ago. It haunted me.

How do I coach people in my speaking presentations or in my one-on-one sessions, to face their fears if I can't. How do I tell people to transform their pain, their terror, their loss, into a monument if I have do-able issues blocking me?

Do I believe that fears can be overcome? And what is my fear of heights, fear of dying, lack of trust costing me personally in some big areas of my life? What would happen if I faced those fears?

As Clay and I's conversation - and more specifically - as my response to his jumping worked on me - "Not in a million years. I'm just too scared." I decided I had to do it. I do not let - or won't let - fear drive my life. I absolutely believe that passion must be in the driver's seat to create an amazing exciting monumental life.

So I jumped.

Yeh. I jumped.

And now after jumping my whole life is different.

Everything I thought I knew about my own fear was wrong. Everything I thought I knew about myself has changed. Because that was THE biggest fear I've had in my whole life - at the top of my fear list - and it's now checked off . . . not only checked off . . . but with inked hearts and exclamation points surrounding it . . . every fear in decending order below it now looks puny and threatened. My biggest fear - which at one time had inspired visions of death, panic, anxiety and terror - now inspires squealing, adrenaline and laughter.

In my own mind, I had made skydiving THE biggest "I can't" in my life - and now I did.

I'm now questioning every fear that blocks me because of the 360 view of the planet from 13,000 feet with nothing but sick air and a huge grin.

Am I afraid of a little challenge? No. Hell no.

A coy smirk erupts across face and my mind scrambles back to the doorway of a tiny plane, rocking - "ready, set, go!"

Bring it.

I want to see how puny my little fear is . . . and how big my life could be . . .

I'm holding nothing back now. Bring it.

Livin' The Dream

2010-06-26T04:45:00.001-07:00

My birthday is just a couple of days away. Reflective thoughts are surfacing and memories of my life flood in. How could I sum up the years of laughter, struggle, self-discovery, challenge, loss and successes? Had I known the pain and the ride before it all happened, would I chose it again?

Yes. Yes I would.

My life has never been predictable. I could not have sat down and written the road map through all of its twists and turns. Especially the twists and turns of the last two years that led me to Scott and the seven precious souls that we prayerfully blend and guide.

The birthday candles spell out "T" and "44" on the two cakes. I choke on the tears as the trick candles re-light.

I'm livin' the dream baby. Not livin the fear, with my heart closed afraid of pain and loss. Not livin' the stress, continually focused on holding back and holding in. Not livin' the regret of opportunities missed. Livin' the dream of parenting and watching each child stretch and grow and learn - even those hard lessons. I'm livin the dream of friends and ventures that keep me awake to service, kindness and vision.

Today I fly. I'm livin the dream baby ~

Young Lions Sometimes Go Hungry

2010-06-21T23:04:00.000-07:00

"Eat your peas."
" . . . but I don't like peas."
"Eat your peas."
" . . . they taste yucky!"
"Eat your peas."
" . . . (crying) but I don't wanna eat my peas! I hate peas!"
Mom slowly but confidently takes the plate to the sink, washing the peas down the drain. No more peas.
An hour passes. My child is hungry. "I'm hungry mommy. I'm hungry now."
"I'm sorry honey. We were eating a terrific dinner and you were being very rude about the peas because you wanted something else. We're done with dinner now. I'm sorry you're hungry. We'll eat again tomorrow."
My child now understands. She looks down at her shoes and thinks about spaghetti noodles as her shoe laces flip back and forth.

Fast forward.
"You need to be home on time."
"But I don't want to come home that early."
"You need to be home at curfew."
"But I don't want to."
"You need to follow our rules."
"But I don't like your rules."
Mom slowly but confidently takes the car keys, the house keys, the priveleges and figuratively washes those away . . . hoping the young lion becomes hungry again. Soon. Hungry for rightness, hungry for relationship, hungry for goodness.

As a parent there is nothing harder than drawing the line in the sand and enforcing boundaries. As a child there is nothing harder than understanding why a parent must draw than line. What a child cannot see, and will never see, until they have young lions of their own, is that the lines are drawn to keep a child protected. Usually from themselves. Parents struggle with doing it - it hurts them to discipline the child even when a consequence MUST follow poor choices.

Psalm 34:10 Even strong young lions sometimes go hungry,
but those who trust in the Lord will lack no good thing.

Sometimes young lions do go hungry. And in that hunger they think. And in that thinking hopefully they discover initiative. And drive. And hopefully in that drive they discover they are responsible for what their path, their bounty, their pursuit. Hopefully that hunger gives them the raw courage to venture out, take necessary risks to learn life, to increase their stature. And hopefully in that hunger they seek God and trust His provision.

I'm watching a young lion go hungry tonight. It would be so easy to feed, cottle and rescue . . . but I can't.

God what is my job? Pray for the hunger to grow into a yearning. Pray for the yearning to grow into a strength. Pray for that strength to grow into a powerful force for good. Pray for the young lion to grow into a beautiful warm confident lionness.

And one who loves peas. : )

Fool's Gold

2010-06-10T07:10:00.000-07:00

Our family just returned from a beautiful trip to California. We were able to see Cannery Row and Fisherman's Wharf in Monterey, the beach in Carmel, Yosemite and the Redwoods, in addition to Mona Lake. Three of our teenage children were able to go with Scott and I for the week, staying with family and great hotels along the way.

On our first afternoon the kids and I, stretching our legs a bit, walked down to the river just a quarter mile down the road.

It was hot that day and the river bubbled and splashed on the rocks seeming almost excited we were there. The three kids, who had hemmed and haw'd after the long drive, perked up as they took in the river bottom scenery. Captivated by sound of the rushing water and mesmerized by the sandy water's edge that sparkled, within minutes they were discovering brilliant rocks and tide pools, completely oblivious now to me or the hundreds of miles we had just driven.

Squealing with delight upon finding a fat gray bullfrog tadpole, my youngest daughter (usually the germaphobe of the family) dipped her hand into the small tide pool to see if she could catch it with her bare hands. My oldest daughter rolled up her long shirt and began wading into the water, feet gingerly finding footing on the slippery lava rock. My son, the 6 foot tall wann-be body-builder, ripped off his shirt completely revealing the Utah white skin - as if to soak up every energizing California ray of sunshine.

At the edges of the water, where the sand collected from the busy river, were sparkling pieces of fool's gold. Here is where miners had struck it rich in the new land of California - panning for gold in the mountain streams. The kids began collecting the shiny tidbits, with a child-like fascination. Scanning the river bottom, it was as if God himself had thrown gold like diamonds by the handful, just for us. It seemed magical; the dancing river, the gold diamonds everywhere, and the sun warming our shoulders and cheeks just perfectly.

I watched my children take in the magic and nature with such an excitement - so different than watching tv at home. They were so free and curious in this non-technical, but high-def organic setting.

It struck me how these three children were all so unique. Their sizes, their shapes, their mannerisms. Though I had given birth to all three, every one of them had their own purpose, there own personality, and their own interests. Watching them interact, then get caught up in watching something or touching something on their own, and then calling to each other to show or do something together . . . it hit me that one day soon they would all spread their wings in search of their God-given path. Our days together like this, at the river, vacationing and seeing the world together . . . those days were changing.

With that thought pressing on my mind, I grabbed my bag searching for my camera. "I've got to capture this moment before it's gone!" Looking, looking . . . no camera. Grabbing my phone I try to take a photo. Low battery. Not enough to take a picture. Ugh.

I just sat there. Stunned. No camera. No dang camera. That means no pictures of these priceless moments! None!

My heart sank. And in the next breath it was as if I heard God Himself say, "This is the real gold Tiffany. Moments that you don't see coming, moments you don't plan, moments that you never get back."

I just sat there. And the river like my gratitude swept uncaptured over my heart, over my soul, over my life . . . and I basked in the sweetness of my children . . . so grateful for the privilege of holding them as babies, rocking them in my arms, and being so blessed to watch them grow taller, wiser, into the people God made them to be.

And the shore sparkled with magic. Only a fool would miss this moment.

God, thank you for the moments that are so full, so real, so brilliant. Thank you for being so big that your love for me shines everywhere - and it shines most when I am still and allow myself to see YOU.

Truly. Thank you for the real gold, the real magic, the real brilliance - I sit quietly and see the hand of God. Amazed.

The next day we went back to the river - with a camera in hand this time - and played again for hours in the magical sparkling river - laughing and enjoying each other as the trees swayed and water raced by. My cup of life full to bubbling over . . . I see the gold God. I see it.

The Gift of Limits

2010-06-01T07:25:00.000-07:00

I have for a long time preached the intellectual sermon about "limitless living" and "transforming your obstacles". In that rah-rah hype and momentum I have also promoted the belief that we only limit ourselves, by our beliefs, our pasts, our expectations and our fears. In a way, waging a battle against perceived limitations as if they were the enemy of success to be beaten down and conquered.

This morning while reading the book "Emotionally Healthy Spirituality", the author Peter Scazzero explains that limits are to be grieved, then embraced. While our limits frustrate us, they also train us in humility. Humility then, as a character asset, is the very thing that keeps us in touch with reality - the very word "humility" in Latin meaning grounded.

"Is it true God that You place certain limits in my life to help me stay grounded?", my mind pleaded as I closed the pages of the book in desperation. "God, do you limit me on purpose to train my soul? These things that I am fighting against, have you put them there on purpose?" Before I could finish my pleadings I could almost hear a strong but gentle voice saying, "Yes child. Your limits keep you REAL."

Oh my gosh. It hit me. Like the story of the Velveteen Rabbit with its eyes loved off, my limits are THE gift that God gives me - not to be a failure, not to be broken, not to be forever grieving, not to be frustrated, but to be REAL.

In a world of plastic commercials, disposible people and supersales, that up-sell sex, up-sell Hollywood, up-sell money and fame, that up-sells gotta-have-it-right-this-second . . . God wants me to BE real and STAY real. My God-given limitations are as valueable in the process as are my God-given gifts.

God opens up the visual of swimming. "Child, water is a constant. It has qualities that are consistant every time you get in it. Understanding its qualities and constants allows you to learn and employ the principles of swimming. There is frustration sometimes in learning to swim, but enjoyment once the principles of that constant are understood. Your limitations with water combined with its constants allows you the experience of success within limits."

My mind reeled in that clarity. My limitations and struggles with my children? Same. My limitations and struggles with health? Same. My limitations and struggles with money? Same. My limitations from family patterns and ineffective thinking? Same.

God wants me to embrace my limitations - and grow with them in the constants that they teach me - while not being defined by them.

"Thank you God for giving me limitations. I will not be angry for them anymore. I will not see them as my enemy. Thank you for the constants that they each create - and the character training that they require of me." I whisper as I prepare for my day, seeing my tasks so differently than before.

And as the water runs over me, I am right like rain.

The Devil - Up Close and Personal

2010-05-08T19:36:00.000-07:00

I've been tempted in my life. Haven't you? Tempted to do the wrong thing, tempted to lash out, tempted to think terrible, mean-spirited thoughts. Oh, I have been.

And, I've been convinced by my pride that I'm right, determined to war or seek revenge, seek my own reward, and I've at times even been tempted to play the martyr and soak in self-pity like a bubble bath til I was shriveled up like a raisin.

I never see it in the exact moment for what it is. It always fools me.

Why is that?

I think I've learned something. A major "aha" in my life as of just days ago.

When the devil is in your face, you will NOT see if for what it is. You CAN'T. Because he'll never look like the devil up close and personal. Like a ghost or a vapor, you will sense him there lurking in your problems, your drama, your anger, but you won't be able to really see how big or ugly he is until the light comes - hours, days or sometimes even years later.

In the light of truth, the light of wisdom, the light of hindsight, or the light of conviction, the devil can be clearly seen. Stepping back a few paces from the situation, the drama, the problem, the challenge, you can see him clearly - seeking to tear you down, confuse the issue, breed fear, create division and destroy your self-esteem and life mission.

So, the key when you find yourself questioning your actions, your motives, your wisdom, your faith, and it doesn't feel good to your soul . . . put some distance between you and the devil - take some alone time with God and see your life as heaven sees it . . . and what you'll find is the Devil's been in your face . . .

Enter Jesus. Arms open wide enough to put some distance between you and that deceptive joker. Arms open wide enough to help you see your possibilities and limitless value. Sacred space.

For with Jesus it is personal as well. Bring any problem, challenge, bitterness or loss to Him and He'll shine a light. So bright that the devil disappears like a vapor. And what is left is truth, strength, grace and love . . . hold that close . . . for with those you can never be deceived. And it will feel good to your soul. So good.

Getting What You Deserve

2010-04-23T06:23:00.000-07:00

Today our home makeover family returns. A week ago their charred timbers stood silent as the roaring equipment took swipes to level it to the ground. Now a house three times the size stands in its place - beautiful, clean and safe. People walk through each decorated room with jaws open, oohing and ahhing.

And then the question always comes in some form or another . . . "Do they deserve all this?"

The answer is "no".

This family has done nothing to earn the hundreds of volunteer hours or thousands and thousands of dollars in donations to plan, frame, build, floor and decorate this new home. They have done no acts of heroism, no great achievement, no historical discovery . . . they are just sweet simple people.

And they did nothing to merit their 9 year old daughter Samantha dying of H1N1 last fall. They did nothing to deserve a fire two months late that destroyed their safety, their memories, and their stability. They didn't deserve any of that.

That's where grace steps in. Grace is the healer that wraps it's arms around those in undeserved pain - and even "deserved" pain - and whispers the words "Be whole". Grace is the kindness, the unexpected support, the cheering on your side when all is lost. Grace is the movement to restoration, the smile of understanding, the compassionate listening. Grace is what makes the difference for all things deserved and undeserved.

God at the end of my life may I come to a great mansion with you. A home I do not deserve, but a place of hope and rest forever.

May I have grace to cover me, both my undeserved pain and my deserved - thank you God for being so big, so kind, so loving, that you have grace big enough to cover it all. Even when I do not deserve . . .

Clash of Pride

2010-04-07T19:20:00.000-07:00

We went to see "Clash of the Titans" yesterday. I really wasn't interested in seeing it. Truly, I dragged my feet and almost made us late. The movie just looked like a blast of swords, guts, sweat and demons. Not my favorite flavor of entertainment.

As I slouched in my deep theatre chair, completely devouring the buttery popcorn in my boredom, I was suddenly interested. Hmm. I sat up taller. Greek mythology. I remember . . . hmm. This could be interesting. So I gave it my attention. And then I was sucked in. Totally.

I won't ruin it for you, I'll just say go see it. It moved me to think deeper.

There is a theme throughout that struck me. Zeus continues to try and help his demi-god son Perseus conquer evil. Zeus sends gifts, a special sword, a Pegasus (horse with wings), a gold coin . . . and the young man refuses the gifts. Out of pride he wants to conquer the world himself. He does not want help.

In the end, our young hero surrenders and recognizes his dependence . . . as we all do.

And I realize that God is even more great than Zeus, even more kind and merciful, more pure in devotion for us His children, and more committed to our sucess than any great power in Olympus.

Everything God does is out of love. What gifts has He given you that you are not fully embracing along this road to conquering evil? And in your pride are you ready to accept His gifts so you can be victorious?

Isaiah 41:10 "Don't be afraid, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you. I will uphold you with my victorious right hand."

So, go see "Clash" and think about God. You are His child. Embrace the love He extends to you and see how victorious you can be.

What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted

2010-04-02T07:01:00.000-07:00

I love to watch American Idol and see the contestants grow in their skill and presentation. As a non-singer I truly appreciate their courage and tenacity under the scrutiny of tough critics.

The other night one of the final few sang "What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted" - and the words continue to swirl around in my head, stirring up memories and thoughts like leaves caught up in a wind devil.

"As I walk this land of broken dreams, I have visions of many things. But happiness is just an illusion, filled with sadness and confusion . . . I walk in shadows searching for light, cold and alone no comfort in sight."

Each one of us could sing that ballad. What becomes of the broken hearted? We've all had dreams that have crumbled, fallen apart, unravelled, or been swept away by the tides of change. With the loss of dreams, hopes are dashed and with the barren twigs of winter we can become cynical and angry, doubting that spring will ever come.

What becomes of the broken hearted?

Many of my clients are motivational speakers. They have ALL experiences a tragic loss, major accident, many times paralysis or horrific unthinkable challenges. And coming out the other side, now share their insights with others.

Then there are those I meet however, who, when dreams are lost and hearts are broken, follow the path of least resistance and become hostile, vengeful, angry and bitter. The difference between the two is all in how they answer that American Idol question - "what becomes of the broken hearted?".

My friend, how do you answer that question? Your answer, whether you realize it or not, is written boldly across your life.

The Bible gives us comfort here. God knew our greatest losses would take us to a barren place. God promises to meet us there and save us in our pain. Psalm 34:18 "The Lord is close to the broken hearted; He rescues those who are crushed in spirit."

We can be rescued and upheld when all seems lost. Even in the coldest winters God has spring planned for us.

As I look out the window of my beautiful new home I see evidence on the trees that new growth is budding. Spring is coming. The snow is melting, the sun is bright, and love and hope and joy steadily encourage me to trust again. Thank you God ~

What becomes of the broken hearted?

Your answer is written all over your life. Your answer to that question will drive every action in your life.

I choose to believe in spring. Hum to yourself today that tune. And ask yourself . . . what becomes of the bro - ken hearted? . . . da da da . . .

Brave Friends vs. Stupid Friends

2010-03-08T14:59:00.000-08:00

When I was younger I had friends who did stupid things. Sadly, like a puppy dog I would follow them and do the same stupid things. Things that destroyed our health, things that impacted our schooling, and things . . . that while fun in the moment . . . proved to be devastating in the end. Call it peer pressure or just stupid by osmosis, I lowered my life to the level of behavior accepted by the group. Even when I knew better.

As I've grown older I'm attracted to a different kind of friend. I'm drawn to friends that have outrageous dreams, big goals and keen ambition. Now, these friends too have fun in the moment, but they gauge that fun by the joy it brings them and the way it impacts the world. They do crazy things, inspiring things, like race 4X4's though they are wheelchair bound, go skydiving, produce a movie trailer of their own show, bust drug deals and save babies, open and design their own clothing lines, open for Macy Gray, get on QVC and win international cookbook awards. These friends are nuts - and yet, these crazy friends raise the level of my life - and raise the bar on the dreams I set for myself.

Whereas before I was attracted to stupid friends - friends who really weren't stupid, but who naively misused their time, their abilities, and their passion - THESE friends, these BRAVE friends encourage me to use mine.

So, I'm making a dream board of the goals I want to accomplish in my life. Sweet husband? Check. New house? Check. Yellow XTERRA? Check. Trip to Caribbean? Check. Awesome, awesome, awesome. Now on to publish my first children's book, raise funds for another family stricken with cancer, jump out of an airplane. Take singing lessons. See the Eiffel Tower - again. Stupid goals? Nope. My friends say I'm as crazy as they are.

How blessed my life will be if I am!

In The Ring

2010-03-06T08:24:00.000-08:00

I'm not one to usually pick a fight. My personality is fun seeking, spontaneous, and a people pleaser. I hate to admit this, but for the last little while I've had trouble managing my hostility, my frustration, and my tolerance for life's inconsistencies and hurts.

Unintentionally I've been argumentative, cynical and destructive, when I could have been loving and understanding. I have lacked compassion, peace and wisdom. I think its all caught up with me.

When bad things happen in life, no matter how much faith we have, no matter how much we love God and want to do the right things, and no matter how much we WANT to handle things well, the bad things that happen to us hurt - sometimes to the core. When tragedy strikes we often lose our dreams, our confidence and our sense of direction. We lose relationships or money, sometimes both, and more often than not we lose our passion.

Just like a child fighting to put on a shoe - we sit there screaming at the frustration because things are not working. We want to hit something and start punching and swinging in the air as if sheer hostility will produce results. We're mad because we're hurt and we can't control it. Sadly, we end up, I've ended up, lashing out at the sweet people in my life who really matter.

I was told that part of the grieving process is anger - anger at the loss and anger because it feels unfair. I did not necessarily feel that before now. Thought I was able to skip that somehow with the wonderful blessings that came into my life - love, a new marriage, improved health, financial stability. But in the grieving cycle, whether in the moment or years down the road, every part of the cycle will come up emotionally until a person is well and whole. An experience two days ago is helping me put things into perspective.

Tuesday I met a woman whose husband is dying. Introduced through a mutual friend, I had been asked to talk with her about what she is currently, and will be, going through. We sat and shared details - talking about finances, special physical needs her husband has, help she needs to continue running her household as he weakens . . . and I saw it. In her eyes was the devastation, the horror, the deer-in-the-headlights look . . . and the fight.

The anger we feel in our lives, placed rightly, gives us the fight we need to endure long periods of painful suffering, changes and losses. That energy of injustice helps us find solutions and have clarity and focus when everything is out of control. God gave us that fight.

Fighting the "good fight" then becomes the lesson.

Fighting the "good fight" infers that there is also the "bad fight". Which is what I've been fighting. The bad fight is the crazy punches into the air in the ring trying to hit something, anything, or anyone. It is the roadrage, the domestic violence, the "going Postal" - that never has a solution only a cost. The only solution to fighing the bad fight is surrendering your weapons and resentment to God and praying for peace.

God show me how to fight the "good fight" and how to heal my anger about the losses and changes in my life. Help me remember that You are in the changes with me carrying me to higher ground. You make a wide path for my feet to keep me from slipping - help me not be angry about the journey with You. Help me be a tool for building people not a wrecking ball. Jesus was a carpenter - a hammer weilded rightly constructs and connects things, it does not crush them. Help me bring people together not create division. Help me surrender my anger if it does not fuel right thinking.

Help me see the beauty of this new path, the new hopes, the new joys and honor the miracles you've done for me. You are good and have caused the desert to bloom and the rivers to flow again in my life after the drought. Help me not focus on the drought but the renewal that has come.

Truly God, you have already won the fight. Let my heart be good with that.

Don't Skip A Beat

2010-02-16T10:12:00.000-08:00

Watching the Olympics, enjoying the mango salsa and tortilla chips under my warm blanket, I was taken aback by couple's ice skating. Couple after couple would make mistakes, fall, slip, miss a spin . . . and scramble to their feet again to their next jump. Instantly dazed and certainly devastated, they would just as quickly be required to summon new focus and momentum to perform the next spin with speed and accuracy.

When the skaters would err, I in my comfy circumstances would cringe for them - even hurt emotionally for them - to think of the hours, days, months and often years that they had been preparing for this moment. Putting myself in their skates so to speak, I could feel the forces of disappointment, embarrassment, sadness, frustration and disappointment at each failing. In my mind it would be easy to choose to quit, to walk off the ice in humiliation - especially if you knew you had lost.

However, watching them continue through each movement to the end of their planned program, IN SPITE of the falling, the missteps, the lowered score . . . it reminded me that when we fail, we fail most when we quit.

When we hang out in our losses, hang out with our failures, we lose time, energy, momentum and self-confidence. Failing is part of being human. It is what makes success and victory so sweet and so magical when it happens. Success is riddled with failings. How we respond when we fail makes all the difference.

This program of life is short - our chance on the ice is limited. The music will end. The plan that we have for our lives, and most definately the plan God has for our lives is in motion right now. Don't skip a beat. Don't give up and leave the ice dejected just because you fall. Gather your strength, remember your goal and find your place again. The music is playing beautifully and the crowd is still cheering you on. There is a plan. Hold your head up and keep skating. Don't even skip a beat.

TBD - To Be Determined

2010-01-24T11:42:00.000-08:00

TBD

Written and understood as "to be determined" - often referring to a date or a location of some future event. The main theme of this future event is "mostly" formulated but the specifics, hard facts, details, are still being cemented.

I've rolled these three letters over and over in my mind this week upon hearing one of my dearest friends is now in jail having made some devastating choices. My heart weeps for the family involved. The snowball effect of deception and dishonesty has hit bottom and the piper must be paid.

TBD

It would seem that most of the story is formulated. Hard facts, details and specifics would seem cemented . . . and sadly some of them are. Irreparable damage has been caused. But the end of the story is . . .

TBD

By our choices we pen the chapters. We choose our destiny ultimately. We determine - we, us, you and me, "I" determine - I determine how the story ends. And so does my dear friend.

I grieve his choices and can't get his loss out of my mind. He has chosen many sad sad details. But the pen is still in motion. The event, the final event, as I read this morning in Romans 14 - "Each of us will stand personally before the judgment seat of God . . . yes, each of us will have to give a personal account to God." That final event is TBD.

Not the time, not the place, not the consequences . . . we only choose how we will be when we get there. Our choices are still being made. It's never too late to chose better.

Friend of mine, within those cement walls, wondering your fate, your destiny even after such tragic loss and shame . . . your ultimate event and redemptive moment is TBD. What will you choose? Determine to do right. Determine to seek God. Determine to restore what you have lost for yourself and what you've lost for others. Determine to say you're sorry. Determine to live your life out in a way that changes your stars. Determine to be a light even in that dark place.

B Determined. You can be. I know you. You can.

Damn Lucky

2010-01-15T08:41:00.000-08:00

There's been a lot of turbulence in my life over the last 2 and a half years. More than any other time in my forty plus years. A car accident, moves, selling furnishings, more moves, cancer treatments for my spouse and as a mother of five children, losing my spouse to cancer.

It messes with your mind. It messes with your thinking. Even on my best days there is a gray cloud that sits in my peripheral waiting for the wind to blow and have it cover the sun. I'm working on the emotional reprocussions of the past two years - and it may take quite a bit more time to process it all.

There are words that haunt me when that dark cloud comes - words like "tragic", "widow", "alone", "death", "loss", "broken", and "final". And in the midst of trying to move forward with my life in positive ways, I hear this negative chatter tormenting me and getting in my way.

Then I found the bracelet. The bracelet that says just one word. The right word.

"Lucky".

I wear it all the time.

Every time I look at it I say the word to myself. In fact, I've gotten so excited about the changes that I feel in adopting the word that I now say to myself "Damn Lucky!"

I am lucky. I could've been handicapped or dead after that car accident. I am lucky - I always had a roof over my head even when I worried sick over finances during cancer treatments. I am lucky - I knew an incredible amazing man who forever changed my life for the better and I know he is with Jesus - safe and at peace and in no more pain. I am lucky - I have wonderfully resilient children, incredible friends and family and a purposeful career that makes me smile every single day.

I decide the words I live by. I decide the energy I will give them. And I will remind myself of the truth about the path I've walked and the future God has for me. A simple bracelet that echoes the truth right from God. My life could have been so different. But here I am.

Lucky.

Yes I am.

And friend so are you. Maybe you just need a bracelet to remind you : )

On The Outside of the Lesson

2010-01-13T15:36:00.000-08:00

Its hard to be on the outside of a lesson. Hard to watch the Master training the child - even though the lesson must be taught. Hard to know what to do as the learning, the pain, the growing is taking place.

What do you do when you cannot interfere with the lesson life must teach?

In the Bible is a story of a father who brings his son to Jesus. "Master, my son is ill. He is possessed. He throws himself into the fire continually as if he is crazy. Heal him."

After all the father could do he brought his son to Jesus. And the boy was healed.

All we can do when those around us struggle with their own internal demons, their lessons, their fires, their illnesses, is bring them to Jesus. Sometimes we can pray with them. Sometimes we can only pray beside them. Bringing those pleas and those concerns to the feet of the Master who knows each one of us individually . . . that is the place of true healing.

It is in that quiet place, that place of faith where miracles absolutely can happen, that we thank God for the lessons that are so skillfully taught through challenges. And we trust that while someone we love is suffering, emotionally, physically, spiritually, relationally . . . we trust that the Master is teaching. And we trust that He knows best how to teach and how to heal.

"My child throws himself into the fire continually. Heal him."

It's hard to be on the outside of the lesson. But it gets easier when we trust He who is teaching.

Shoulda Woulda Coulda

2010-01-11T08:24:00.000-08:00

As I get older I notice a syndrome I call the "Should Woulda Coulda" syndrome. Young people rarely have it while most (the majority) of us older people do.

We look back and clearly (and somewhat self-loathingly) identify the big goofs in our lives. The losses. The missed opportunities. The hurt we've caused others. The disagreements. The education or career detours. The fish that got away. The overlooked moments to embrace or say "I love you". The ballgames missed. The vacations not taken.

In the moment we didn't see something that years later is obvious. And we wish we could go back and make more of that moment than we did.

Sadly those "Shoulda Woulda Coulda" moments were what they were. The past is the past. Hopefully however, those moments inspire change in the present.

The antidote for the syndrome are 3 words.
Say them with me. "I CAN NOW."

I CAN NOW.
I CAN NOW.
I CAN NOW.

If you've missed an opportunity for education . . . I CAN NOW.
If you've hurt someone and need to apologize . . . I CAN NOW.
If you're holding on to a sin and need to change course . . . I CAN NOW.
If you love someone and have held back telling them . . . I CAN NOW.
If you wish you'd saved money, been more frugal, made a wiser decision . . . I CAN NOW.
And if you've been living with unhealthy patterns - physically, spiritually, emotionally . . . and want a different outcome . . . I CAN NOW.
If you are ready to be a new creature as the Bible says . . . I CAN NOW.

It is never too late to be who God wants you to be. Let God heal you today.

Whisper with me . . . "God, with your help, with your sovereignty, with your wisdom, with your forgiveness, with you by my side . . . no matter the past . . . I trust you. I can now."

When The Barn Burns Down

2010-01-08T23:42:00.000-08:00

This past week I attended my Grandmother's funeral. Always an emotional rite of passage, this funeral brought tears and lessons. I have been introspective. It has been a call to action for me.

You see, I was reminded about the fire.

My Grandmother and Grandfather worked a dairy farm. Along with other Aunts and Uncles, they milked 300 head of cattle a day. All of the children, cousins to each other, worked the farm too - my father being a young boy at the time. The days were long and the work was difficult but it made for a wonderful life and a great work ethic.

One day billows of smoke were seen. My father remembers running almost a mile to see what was burning. Devastated, it was the milk barn. Over the next three days the entire barn and milking areas burned to the ground. It took every available hand from near and far to help put out the hay and ashes.

My Grandparents must have been devastated as they watched. They had ten children to care for. What would they do now?

Have you ever felt that way? Watching the ashes of your life like twigs of hay on fire, flipping and whirling in the heat of an all consuming raging fire? What will you do now?

I had heard about the fire before. What I had not heard before the day of the funeral was even as the fire was burning . . . the 300 cows still needed to be milked. Twice a day.

That my friend was powerful. Even as the barns were burning there were essentials that had to be addressed. Ten children. 300 cows. And the barn is on fire. They did not give up. They kept milking the cows. They kept their children close. And now years later their faith and courage inspires me to do the same.

Even when the barn burns down . . . keep your family close . . . keep your faith . . . and keep milking. One day you will look back and realize that you had the most important things all along.

The Rest

2010-01-05T22:00:00.000-08:00

A trite saying "enter into the rest of the Lord". We often think of that in the term "repose" or "restoration" and even "rejuvenation". Rest is something we seek when we are exhausted or overworked. Rest is something we hope we find in heaven after toiling here in our earthly existence. I've thought that too. This morning I had a new thought.

The story of Job. In one day his flocks were destroyed, his children and servants killed, his homes devastated, his life derailed. Then he was plagued with sores and sickness. Life as he'd known it was over. Finished. Buried.

Job 6:2 "If my sadness would be weighed and my troubles be put on the scales, they would be heavier than all the sands of the seas."

And he stayed in that broken place for a long time. Long enough to question what God had for him. Long enough to realize that God ultimately was in total control of his life and steps. "Whatever He wants to do, He does. So He will do for me all He has planned. He controls my destiny."

Understanding this truth, Job became more clear on God's purpose, his own meekness, and his love for God. And Job began to pray for his friends and their success. Things changed . . .

"When Job prayed for his friends the Lord restored his fortunes. In fact, the Lord gave him twice as much as before! . . . So the Lord blessed Job in the second half of his life even more than in the beginning". . . Job lived 140 years after that. He died an old man who had lived a long, good life . . . so the Bible says.

The rest of the Lord. The REST.

As Paul Harvey says, "And now, for the REST of the story". Enter . . . the REST.

Perhaps you are looking at the first half of your life or where you are right now and you are devastated at the losses. Perhaps your dreams have been stolen, your goals downright impossible, your path bleak. And you are tired. You want rest.

Perhaps the God of the second half has something powerful in mind for you - the comeback kid - and there is more coming in your life than you ever dreamed possible. Perhaps 2009 was filled with loss and pain and sadness. I understand. But I also know the God we serve. And I know the story isn't over yet.

Enter the REST of the Lord. Ask Him. Lord? What is the REST of my story in YOU? Through YOU? What chapters are YOU still writing? What's the REST? What can You and I do together in 2010? What is the REST? Pray for the success of your family and friends. Know that God loves you and knows you completely. God is on your side.

You may be surprised at the dreams God is already dreaming with you in mind . . . time for the REST you've so badly needed.

Ghost of Christmas Past

2009-12-26T07:48:00.000-08:00

Sitting among the wrapping paper and admid the squeals from children as they open their gifts, I am swept away to Christmas' Past. Uncomfortable and forcing the tears back, images of cancer surgeries, incisions and hospital smells, $5 to spend on each child at the dollar store, living out of suitcases with no home of our own . . . it rubs raw a healing wound. It makes the joy of the moment difficult to feel - makes the smile on my face drop as do my eyes. Ugh. Why God? Why remind me so brutally of the Great Sadness on this day of so much giving, so much joy, so much hope?

I take five of the children to the cemetery to place poinsettas on Paul's grave. The children huddle together as they tromp through the snow. Hayley laughs as her feet sink and her exposed ankles freeze in the icy flakes. Landon hides in Ben's coat and we can no longer see his face - we can only hear the giggles from inside the down jacket. And the sun is shining.

This is Christmas Present.

The children that Paul and I blended together - all laughing together so connected - they love each other. I scan the group - the five of them so silly together. What an odd turn to find us all here this Christmas morning together . . . we were undone by the Great Sadness. We are closer because of it.

God, thank you. Thank you for giving me Christmas Present. Last Christmas I had images of Christmas Future - which would be today. I had images of me alone - wearing black - sitting in the snow before a headstone sobbing. I had no hope of sweetness. I had images of the children - separate and suffering. Desperate. Depressed. I had no fantasies of laughter or celebration. I did not see this beautiful wrapping paper, a fire in the fireplace, or the children still so connected to each other. God you are so good to take care of me when the hurt and loss has been so great. Oh how your love exceeds what I deserve and yet that is your holy character completely.

The pointsettas placed now, our chatty group walks back to the cars and we head off to the rest of our Christmas day . . . more delicious food, more games, more sillyness. And I look to heaven knowing that Paul is spending his first Christmas with Jesus Himself. Oh Paul. What is your Christmas Present like? Do you cry thinking about Christmas' Past? Or are you so whole now, so alive, and so at peace that you see everything as sweetness? We miss you, but we live better because you were here. We love you, but we love better because we all loved you. We mourn your leaving us but rejoice in your first Christmas surrounded by angels and eating at table of the King.

I kick off the snow on my boots and am thankful. My nightmares of Christmas Future did not happen. The Great Sadness is still there but the hope of Christmas lights the darkest hours.

I rejoice this Christmas. And what beautiful images I have of many Christmas' to come.

Thank you God for healing even the ghosts of Christmas' Past. Just shows how good you truly are.

The Downright Uglies

2009-12-23T06:08:00.000-08:00

In the midst of the daily grind ugliness exists. It exists in circumstances that aren't always peachy, in parts of our roles that are frustrating, and in our interactions with other human beings. It is the ugliness of expectation, failure, and pride. Sadly, in the step by step of even the best relationships ugliness comes out in each one of us that we wish weren't there.

That's what makes love so beautiful - the tranformation of the ugliness inside of us as we choose to love instead. Love holds a mirror up and asks us if we like what we see inside ourselves, our behavior, and our thinking. Is having my way the most peaceful thing? Is hurting another the best way to solve this? Am I losing more love by acting stubborn? And we search that reflection carefully to see who we really are.

Love is the most amazing catalyst - and better than any plastic surgery - love can bring beauty to even the ugliest of thinking. Grace covers ugly.

Thank you God. Grace covers the downright uglies.

Death and Taxes

2009-11-13T15:48:00.000-08:00

After a very long wait on hold with the IRS a female voice answered. I explained the details of my call, that my husband had passed away some time back and I needed an itemized statement of what was owing for he and I. As a citizen who feels very grateful for my country, I wanted to make certain I understood and honored my obligation, and Paul's.

People always say "There are only two sure things in life - death and taxes".

Well, what an interesting thing - it is true. You cannot escape either. Death at its time will come, and taxes, even after the fact, come too.

Knowing this truth, more on a soul level than I can ever explain - I don't want to live my life waiting on joy. I will run after it like a child chasing a butterfly, giggling like I'm barefoot for the first time. I will follow love and goodness knowing that road winds and twists and sometimes meets rugged terrain. I will choose joy. There is no promise that joy will last - but it can be experienced here on earth until we meet Jesus.

If I cannot escape taxes, and cannot plan the time or circumstances of my death, than most certainly I will plan joy. For joy brings sweetness to all things - even death and taxes.

Two things are certain - but joy - joy is a choice.

Chasing Yellow

2009-11-03T09:07:00.000-08:00

In the last six months my household has gone from 7 people to 3 people - and two of those three are only with me part time. Most of the time it's just me. Such an odd feeling after the busyness of 7 - and one with round the clock care. That change has had me looking at specific alterations that would help me feel better. One of which has been my transportation.

You see, for the last two years I've driven a 7 passenger van. A mom car. It has been ideal for long trips with the entire family (plus bags). Great gas mileage. But, when it's just me going to a business meeting I hear my thoughts echoing about the cabin - it feels so empty. Like an armoured car going to and from the banks but never carrying money. Why the armoured car?

A month ago I began looking for a smaller car. Something that would be great around town. Something that would be funner to drive than my mom van.

What caught my eye was a yellow XTERRA. Four wheel drive, a rack on top, chunky tires and smelled of adventure. I could not stop thinking about it. It was used but in great shape, price was right, and wow! It put a big grin on my face - lots of teeth showing! Fit two comfortably in back, great stereo, and I could just picture the endless possibilities - bikes on the back, tent and camping gear on top, the dog in the back . . . my adrenaline was peaking. It was a rush just thinking about it.

Until the survivor's guilt kicked in. What would people on the outside think? Here I show up in a perky yellow 4x4 with a big smile on my face . . . having so much fun . . . too much fun probably for a widow. Shouldn't I wear black for the next year and hang my head low? Even though the money was from a car accident two years ago and I've been a frugal shopper . . . would people assume I was being foolish buying a car just for me - just because the van makes me feel old?

So . . . I didn't buy the XTERRA. I let it be purchased by someone else. I stayed with the van and for about two weeks drove around with my tail between my legs and under my breath whispering to myself . . . I should be sensible. I should just not do anything silly or crazy for the next 7 months - just be steady. Not draw attention. Be mature.

Gosh that so goes against my butterfly nature. I began to feel claustraphobic. A week ago I purposely scouted out another bright yellow, chunky tires, rack on top, four wheel drive XTERRA that said "Party Waiting To Happen" all over it. And I bought it. The whole way home I kicked my heels to myself with the CD player blaring - so proud that I gave myself room to be silly and crazy and happy again. I have to give myself permission to feel joy and giddyness.

Passion is so underated. It is life. Sometimes I think honoring Paul's death means being sad and melancholy over his memory, his pain and his loss. Trust me, those moments hit me in the grocery store when I least expect it and I feel like I can't stand anymore - feel like I can't hold down breakfast. There is plenty of being sad. But, if I know Paul, and I believe that I do, he would want me driving the brightest happiest perkiest chunkiest adventurous funnest vehicle I could. It makes me feel years younger. Perhaps it's my Cobra like Paul had his.

One of the best lessons Paul taught me - chase yellow!!!!!! Passion is life. Give yourself permission to feel the joy - chase your dreams - chase your passion - and soak it up til your heart overflows with it. Passion is life.

Baby, put your yellow on!!!

Healing Is Not Linear

2009-10-31T18:35:00.000-07:00

People ask me, "Tiffany how are you doing? How are you getting along these days?" I know they mean how am I doing - specifically - after Paul's death. Well, specifically, I think it will take a long time to get over losing Paul. And still, I am moving forward in very good healthy ways.

This week we did a home makeover and had crazy late hours, out of control chaos, and overwhelming excitement and joy. www.Heart2HomeFoundation.org We blessed a family in a way that only our home makeover addicted team can. It was great to be back in the swing of things that were a significant part of my life and my passion.

I'm getting back to work and meeting with clients again - and I'm feeling momentum behind my computer work, graphic design and writing. My day-to-day life is feeling more routine and I'm getting used to the circumstances.

Sadly the other night I awoke after a nightmare - dreamed that cancer was eating away at my lower leg and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Seemed so real that I felt death was coming for me. I woke shaken and terrified all over again. And I was alone.

My sweet friend Marty found out this week that the cancer is now in both lungs. Talking with his wife Terry my heart sank to that very very sad place and all I could do on the way home was weep. So unfair. What will they go through? And their children?

I guess what I wish people knew most is that healing is not linear. In one area there can be wholeness, the ability to function, the ability to move forward. Yet, there are areas of brokenness that will take years - if ever - to address. The loss of a spouse - the death of dreams together - the pain of seeing someone suffer so intensely - that is so deep a wound with so many layers . . .

No one can judge what healing will look like or the process or path that healing takes. But for certain it is not a strait line - it is more like a mountain range with plenty of hills and drop offs. What I am grateful for are the people in my life that are steady - when the healing isn't.

Loves Like A Hurricane

2009-10-10T12:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I blogged about mature trees. It was a magical day as I took a drive into the mountains to enjoy the fall colors before the snow comes. It was spectacular. The palette of ambers, yellows and greens were breathtaking. Especially though, the Aspens. With every whisper of the wind the leaves trembled and shook - evidence that there was movement in the air. Theirs was the evidence of invisible motion and direction. It was so hypnotizing that I could have sat for hours letting the fall breeze wash over me like a river.

When God puts something on your heart - whether it is a vision for the future, a person's name or their personal circumstance, or a cause, a calling - that "burden" He places begins to weigh on your mind. Like the river of invisible wind that was witnessed in the Quaking Aspen yesterday - that movement creates a response in us. And we change. Our thinking is incrementally redirected, our balance shifts, our perspective changes and if we are truly listening to God Himself, we bend.

The greatest growth we have is when we allow God to introduce an idea - plant a seed - and then we listen and let the burden fall on our hearts knowing that God wants us to be vulnerable to Him. We begin to pray for others (real prayers outloud with real tears) - we begin to sense conviction and a desire to restore relationships (and our pride melts) no matter the cost - and we yearn to see the face of God manifest in the darkest parts of our lives.

I invite you to let God place a burden on you - what has He created you for here on earth? What does He need you to change in your life to get to His path, His plan? And will you bend? Will you yield to what the Creator has in store for you?

Let God rush in like the wind - let Him love you like a hurricane. You can trust what He is doing in your heart even though you can't always see it.

Listen for a minute - close your eyes and listen to where God wants you to bend . . . never heard it quite so beautifully as in "How He Loves" by David Crowder. Close your eyes and feel the rushing wind through the Aspens in your heart. The colors will bring tears to your eyes.
http://www.myspace.com/davidcrowderband

Mature Trees

2009-10-08T13:16:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been spending a lot of time thinking about landscaping. It's the harvest season and - I've thoroughly enjoyed the boxes of apples and peaches and the baking that is associated with an abundance of fruits and vegetables. As I flip through pages of Home & Garden I am drawn to the images of settled, thriving, abundant trees. Not only are they fruitful, but they are strong enough to resist the wind and elements - deep enough to thrive in difficult seasons.

I'm drawn in to the pictures of two wooden chairs beneath a weeping willow - sheltered by the shade in a pristine carpet of grass. Vines reach around and through, creating a net of grapes and beautiful fanning leaves. Wysteria clusters hang like friends bending an ear to an interesting topic and evergreens stand tall and courageous even in the threat of approaching snow.

As I look around in my world I see I am also drawn to people the same way. Drawn to those who make me see deeper, assess my life more profoundly, and yearn for maturity and wisdom. As my circumstances force me to stretch, I search for those who have also weathered difficult storms. What fruits have they produced? How do they stand tall and courageous? And what does it feel like to stand with them?

There is a season when the thrill of the first radish sprouts can bring a smile to my face. There is a time of excitement and beginnings. Today, I yearn for stability - that force - that steadiness - that comes from mature trees. Deeply rooted, unmoving, protected.

That is where I will pull up my wooden seat and rest. That speaks peace to my soul.

Know Thyself

2009-10-07T17:49:00.000-07:00

Walking in to the medical office the young PA noticed the book under my arm - The Color Code. As I laid it on the counter he was even more intrigued, reading the subtitle sideways and even cocking his head to see the letters straight. "So, what color would I be?" he questioned. "Well, I don't know, tell me about yourself." He began with descriptions: "I am a hardworker - sometimes bossy. I don't really care what other people think. I can be insensitive sometimes. But, I set goals and achieve them and that's really important to me. " From his descriptions and the answers to some questions I told him he sounded like a red personality to me. (out of four colors - yellow, white, blue and red)

The information peeked his curiosity and he wanted to learn more from the free test - www.colorcode.com. He was excited to know himself better.

Later in the day I was talking to a girlfriend about love languages. If your spouse does not understand what you perceive as love, he may be sending you affection all day long but you will never feel it. If you never articulate what love looks like to you, how can you and your beloved create that shared vision? It is not only significant to know your love language, but also know the words to ask for what you want and need. Can you articulate what love feels like? Do you feel loved completely? Have you ever? And what do you need most in a loving relationship? How do you show love best?

Too much self-absorbtion can reflect self-centerness. Too little can reflect a marytr. Self-awareness and self-knowledge can ultimately be the map that gets you to the ultimate destination - loving and being loved for who you truly are.

Know thyself -

There Is Hope At The Bottom

2009-10-06T20:35:00.000-07:00

I knew it was in those boxes somewhere. The stacked brown packages were four high in my garage. They have been there since Paul died. All of the things I could not bear - I set them aside quietly and carefully knowing in the days and months ahead I would have more clarity to address them. Papers, photographs, pressed flowers . . . ten years of a life together folded up and stacked in a cold garage. And I needed to find one thing. Ugh.

Fighting the nausea I opened the first, rustled through the items and closed it, setting it aside. Not there. Opening the next, finding the obituary. Then the cards from family and friends - some even unopened still. Then prescriptions that never got filled - recommendations from specialists, appointment cards for appointments that never happened - Paul passed away before the dates even came. Before I found what I was looking for my garage floor looked like it had snowed recycling . . . and I was a sobbing mess sitting on top of it.

As I rocked back and forth crying, unable to even put the items back in the boxes, I remembered the story of Pandora's box. Greek mythology - the Greek god Zeus gave Pandora (the first woman) a box. Within that box held every misery and evil that could afflict mankind. Against his directions Pandora's curiosity overtook her and she opened the box - releasing misery into the world. When all of the demons and evil and misery had escaped only one thing remained at the bottom.

Hope.

I panned the stacks and trinkets and journaling - it was as if my Pandora's box had been opened. It is now time to address these very painful issues so that I can move into the next season of my life. The loose ends. The memories that need a home. The chaos that needs order. It is honestly quite miserable and painful and devastating.

Still, I look to God for healing. "He heals the brokenhearted, binding up their wounds" Psalm 147:3 He does send hope. It's right there at the bottom when everything seems lost.

Trust me . . . its there waiting for you to look. It won't be in the chaos, the misery, or the evil . . . but it will be in the quiet, in the stillness, in the emptiness . . . waiting for you to be ready.

Are you ready to hope again?

Spoonfuls of Happy

2009-10-04T18:54:00.000-07:00

There is a poster at my favorite yogurt shop which reads "A spoonful of happy". Something about that always makes me smile. I love that yogurt shop. Very cool seating, super healthy frozen yogurt, and a warm fire going. When I'm there even my toes are happy.

Life gets tough some days. Harsh realities, losses, grieving, seasons of change, relationship strains, financial pressure . . . we all feel it. It's good to have places of refuge. Life is a buffet filled with many things - thank heavens for the sweet spots.

My bible, a hug from my kids, my crazy dog, silly girlfriends, loving texts from my parents . . . and even a new crush that makes me giggle when my phone rings.

Mmmm. Among the difficult there is some sweetness. A soft place to land.

Thank you God - for giving me spoonfuls of happy.

You Can't Argue With That

2009-10-02T19:02:00.000-07:00

"It's like I knew this couch in a previous life" my girlfriend jokingly explained. "It's like we were meant to be together! It cost me $2,000 but I just had to have it!" The rest of us ladies burst out in laughter. It was hard to take Micki seriously. Trailing off I couldn't argue with her. There are just those things in life with which we feel an affinity. And, it's the gravity, its the glue, its the pulse that then seems to orchestrate "one-ness" - a feeling of coming home - even if it is with a silly comfy cushy couch.

You just can't argue when someone has those kinds of feelings for something. You can talk til you're blue in the face, you can reason with facts and details, and you can promote a million other possibilities, but when someone has an affinity for something - a compulsion - a confirmation - well, it's like telling them to change their favorite color or their favorite dessert. Just not going to happen.

But then there is the bright side - where there is affinity there is passion. There is hope, there is fun, there is creativity, there is comfort. It's like slipping on your worn in sneakers and that faded pair of blue jeans. You may never be able to describe it or explain the way it makes you feel - but you know it. It's tangible. You just can't argue with the way that makes your soul sing.

Dictionary.com describes "affinity" in a chemistry term as "the force by which atoms are held together". Scientists don't even know why they do - they just do. Affinity. Like the heart's gravity. Draws things, holds things, strengthen things . . . orchestrating things coming together.

A couch that you knew in a previous life - the love of a mother to a child - the stuff of atoms - the strength that binds - that feeling of coming home - a favorite color . . . affinity in the shallowest term or affinity in the deepest . . . the stuff that make your soul sing. You just can't argue with that.

Finding What You Don't Want

2009-09-28T21:18:00.000-07:00

Standing in front of the glass counter my eyes pan the mounds of chocolates - pecan chocolates, raisin chocolates, pretzels dipped in chocolate, rice krispy treats with chocolate . . . "Uh, m'am? What can I get for you?"

I'm not certain what I want really. It confusing. When you're standing there they all look good. How to decide? It's overwhelming. I start defining what I don't want. OK, no cinnamon gummy bears with chocolate. No butter brittle with chocolate . . .

Finally I walk away happy with my bag empty of "don't-wants". Yes, life is like a box of chocolates. It's tasting and knowing the "don't wants" from the "do wants". Opportunities, friendships, careers, health choices . . . sometimes it is just separating the "don't wants" from the "do wants" one incremental decision at a time.

Relationships and habits are painful and difficult - chocolate is easy. But ultimately paths and destinies are formed by choices. As difficult as it is, you cannot take all paths simultaneously.

I don't want cigarettes. I don't want alcohol. I don't want to be in unhealthy relationships. I don't want my children growing up without God. I don't want to be loved half-way. Don't want to be less of me. Don't want to be taken for granted. I don't want to be stagnant in my life. I don't want to make foolish mistakes. I don't want to hurt people. Don't want to be prideful and blind to my own shortcomings. I don't want to lose my passion for good and right things. Don't want to lose hope.

In the don't wants is a whole lot of information about the do wants. Life will present a lot of chocolate - know thyself. Even if it begins with knowing what you don't want . . . it will ultimately bring you to what you do.

Time To Move Forward

2009-09-25T08:56:00.000-07:00

Paul's parents gave us a grandfather clock on our first Christmas. The clock has a beautiful chime and has always taken a prominent place in our home. Walking and crying through the somber house after Paul' passed away I looked at the hands of the clock on the wall - quietly moving - incrementally rolling forward - and I could not bear it. I opened the glass door and reverently moved the hands back to the very minute Paul passed. 12:45 am. July 21, 2009. I stopped the pendelum from swinging and dropping my eyes, closed the glass. Nobody knew but me.

Time stopped at the moment he died.

Every day for the last 2 months I have walked passed that grandfather clock. 12:45 am. That moment will forever be etched in my soul. That was the moment that Paul met Jesus face to face - that was the moment I sobbed on his chest and prayed with his mother at his bedside. That moment was undoubtably a moment of complete surrender for Paul and I. We'd fought a fight together and won. He was free.

Today though is a new day for me and in a very private way I need to be free as well. Today I will buy a new battery and with all of the respect and admiration and gratefulness in my heart, I will again put the pendelum in motion. Not to dishonor the moment Paul died - but to honor the moments he lived.

The clock on the wall tells me it is time to breathe, it is time to laugh, it is time to love, it is time to grow, time to set goals, time to create. The clock is of little use if it does not keep time.

In all reality we cannot still time. For in all of our pain, God's character proves faithful - time continues to flow like a river - as does the graceful healing that sets us free.

It's 10:13 on September 25, 2009. And it's time to move forward.

Where is your clock stuck? Where were your moments of surrender - where were your moments of loss? And what hands do you need to put back in motion? It is time.

Living On A Prayer

2009-09-20T11:48:00.000-07:00

My adorable 2 year old nephew woke up at 6:00 am yesterday. He stood at the side of his crib happily singing "Oohh, living on a praayeh" - Bon Jovi meets Pampers. The words and his cheerful disposition had my sister chuckling. Over and over he repeated the theme, all the while with a chubby grin and twinkle in his eye. "Oohh, living on a praayeh". What a great way for the entire household to wake!

What did you pray for when you rose this morning? When the sun came quietly creeping in across your floor - what was the greatest desire of your heart? What would you wish for if the Creator of the Universe to gift something sweet in your life? What would heal you, what you bless you, what would move you? And do you believe that the God who loves you is powerful enough to prove Himself faithful? Do you believe that God can restore what the locusts have destroyed in your life? Do you believe that God can restore broken relationships, heal broken dreams, forgive great rebellion? Are you willing to courageously walk around the seeming impenatrable emotional walls, with the trust that the God who parted the seas will bring even your heaviest stones crashing down? And do you trust that you can have imaginable joy and happiness if you let God lead?

This little 2 year old sang in sheer joy and childlike faith. His happiness was contageous. "Oohh, living on a praayeh" - His white teeth against his dark skin showed the grin of a soul ready for the adventure of the day. He fully expected loving arms to greet him and protect him. A child at peace - a child bubbling with joy - excited that goodness is coming.

Sweet child, are you?

Compelled To Love

2009-09-19T18:18:00.000-07:00

My sister and her husband had 3 boys. She homeschooled, led in church groups and participated in neighborhood and community activities. It seemed a perfect picture. Until one day God put it on her heart . . . become a foster parent. At first it was a whisper. Then the whisper, a tiny stream, became a river. Soon the current swept she and her husband into a foster parent class and they placed their names on the list.

A call came. Would you take one child? What if there was a sibling? And then, what if there were 3? And what if the youngest was a baby? And what if they were not the same race as your family? And what if they had been abused . . . with each question the love compelled her heart to open. God eased the door open wider. She and her husband said yes.

She calls her family her 6-pack of boys. From 22 months to 15 she has 6 rugged, playful, busy, growing and challenging boys. Some days she is delighted at the chaos. Some days she weeps. Her life will never be the same. It is a risk to open her home but a bigger risk to open her heart. What if she cannot adopt these boys? What if they cannot overcome what they have experienced in life? And in her darkest moments, what if she is not enough, enough?

There is only one answer to all of those questions. Do you LOVE?

Not do you have love. Not do you believe in love. But DO you LOVE? It is a verb - it is a choice - it is a response - it is a decision. Once you decide that one thing every thing else falls in place.

For every chaos can be tamed by love.

Our roads often bring us to chaos we did not anticipate nor wish or foresee. What we desire and what we hope compels us to love and we choose to open our hearts completely. We risk because we cannot NOT - it meets our greatest longings. It changes us.

Our enough IS enough . . . truly . . . there is only question we need to ask. Do you LOVE?

Right and More Right

2009-09-16T18:22:00.000-07:00

Going to the eye doctor the silly lense presto change-o test always gets me laughing. First this. Now this. Which is better? Wait, show me again. OK. This or this. The goofy metal glasses swing like a switchblade in front of my eyes. I'm instantly intimidated. I can hardly see the difference and I'm getting uncomfortable.

This or . . . this? OK, now I see!

I didn't see just a minute ago - and now, what seemed right before seems more right now.

God does that. Really to help us see more clearly what He saw all along.

This or . . . this? Basically, your way . . . or . . . this . . . My way.

And we sit back in the large lab chair rubbing our eyes - amazed. God, how did you know I would see so much better with that change? I didn't know it was possible. Thought I was seeing everything just fine. What was right before is more right now.

God. 20/20 vision. His one goal is helping us see He was right all along.

In The Quiet

2009-09-15T21:20:00.000-07:00

Candles burning, kids sleeping, I walk through my clean and quiet small home and am thankful. Thankful for the bustle and busyness that keeps me going through the day, but also thankful for the calm that comes when the dust settles.

The path of my life has been rocky at times. There have been moments of great tragedy and great victory. There have been moments of incremental growth as well as moments of instant awareness and surrender. In all of these moments I realize I have not been alone - ever.

Friends change, congregations change, interests change and even love changes - but never have I felt that God has left me alone. In fact, it has been just the opposite. In my moments of greatest rebellion I have felt God pursuing me - chasing after my heart.

When the dust settles over my life - the greatest love I have ever had - has been God. And in my alone times, my quiet times, I realize that's everything I need to be me - to achieve my purpose here, to meet my goals, to dream my dreams. When everything changes - God stays the same. And when everything changes - God stays.

Blinders On

2009-09-14T18:17:00.000-07:00

Talking the other day with an acquaintance a prejudice statement was made. Immediately the comment stung as if it had been said about someone in my own family. I listened more closely. A second comment was made confirming the first. I had not known my associate had negative feelings towards people of a different skin color. It surprised me. As the conversation ended and I walked away I thought about blinders such as racial discrimination. How real those blinders are when we feel we're right about people, groups and situations. And when we are right we stop listening.

I would not consider myself prejudice based on race. However, when I believe I am right I can be very blind. I stop looking for clues that would conflict with my philosophies. I close off my opinions to a certain chosen few, and I tend to be less empathetic to anyone who is "wrong". I wish it were not so, but it is. Do you do the same thing? Put up walls around your truth?

So, here's to taking off the blinders. Here's to expanding the view, looking at other possibilities, other sides of the same issue. Here's to giving others equal talking time.

God let me see the truth of things even if it makes me uncomfortable. Take the blinders off so I see the big picture. Though I have eyes - help me really, really see for the very first time.

Standing Corrected

2009-09-11T18:43:00.000-07:00

There are times when it seems God is standing alongside of us like a compassionate parent, giving us a much needed lecture - all in love of course. Conviction hits us square in the face and our hearts sink. "God you are right," we say with our heads bowed. "You know my foolishness, you have a front row seat to my pain. You are right in your chastising."

At that point we may sink into despair falling to our knees weeping in our shame.

That is when the greatest of all God's compassion shines - God asks us to stand. Stand and walk a different walk. Now with a different heart. A different vision. A new song. A song of victory and freedom.

Psalm 51:10 "Create in me a pure heart O God. Renew a right spirit within me."

The truest character of God is love. Love that witholds the justice we deserve - extending mercy. Love that pours grace freely - that gives us back our dignity. Mercy and grace - like two open hands stretched out to us lifting us up to our feet again when we've fallen or been off course.

Truly through God's love . . . we STAND corrected.

Beautifully Precarious - God's Perfect Balance

2009-09-09T09:02:00.000-07:00

Hiking has become my new addiction. Having a day out with my girlfriends on a 4 hour hike up the mountain, I came across a purposely placed stack of rocks. They immediately captured my attention as I realized the methodical diligence of the person who placed them.

The stones were beautifully precarious and inspired great strength and peace. How could something so simple swell within me a feeling of power and clarity? It was a message to my soul.

In the movement of life, the busyness, the noise, there are moments of clarity that speak to us of God's timing, His big picture, His wisdom in placing and orchestrating the little and big stones in our lives as to create the pillar He wishes in our character. Often the world views it as ridiculous, small minded and foolish - and yet, to witness God's hand in your life on a personal level so deep and so rich - it is a peace that cannot be explained.

Look around you today and witness the stones that God is placing for your strength - a purposeful message that He is building something peaceful and something good in YOU. And understand that in His timing YOU are beautifully desperate for HIM - beautifully purposed, and beautifully precarious.

Staying Open

2009-09-04T07:47:00.000-07:00

I love listening to Anthony Robbins. I'm amazed by his sense of passion and purpose as well as his logical clarity about life. I enjoy listening to his audios as I'm doing graphic design, folding laundry or getting ready in the morning.

The other day I listened to a link about finances and success. So powerful!!!! http://www.moneymastersseries.com/audiodownload.php
Anthony Robbins explains that the biggest major hurdle in being truly successful (he was talking financially but I'm going to refer to emotionally) is learning to manage rejection and frustration. That's the pivitol factor in being successful. Learn to manage rejection and frustration. Because here is the kicker - when you feel rejection and frustration what do you? You give up. You stop trying. You stop investing yourself. You become cynical. Your self-discipline stops - your drive stops. In the case of a salesperson - when a customer rejects your product you may quit selling, quit cold-calling, quit attempting to sell all together.

On a personal level - emotionally - relationally - when we have been hurt by romantic love, family, friends, business partners, when we have been rejected - we may close ourselves off to the point that we no longer can let love in at all. It is the ultimate self-sabotage. We quit taking care of ourselves, we lower our goals, we lose hope, and we self-destruct. Talking from personal experience here, we close ourselves off to the very thing we want so badly.

People who are truly emotionally satisfied in life are the people who can love big - forgive big - risk big - and hope big. They know that love is out there in so many different forms and they know that love heals every brokenness. Keep your heart open even if you've been rejected in the past. Because you never know the love that waits . . . and the power it has to change your world. Stay open and let love in.

Life Make-Over Steps

2009-09-02T08:34:00.000-07:00

Filming a segment for a national award based on the non-profit Heart 2 Home http://www.heart2homefoundation.org/, the interviewer asked me why we (our Heart 2 Home team) we do what we do? How do we do it?

Reflecting on why our team sweats, prays, begs and dreams the way we do . . . its because we can't see suffering and not feel moved to action. We hurt when we see others hurting. And, because we know our actions create solutions, we stay the course until circumstances are healed.

There is a powerful courage that is developed over time as this pattern becomes a concrete process. Feel compassion, assess the need, pray for healing and inspiration and finally, take action.

In your relationships, in your business, in your family - are YOU taking that same course of action? Do you have a burden for the people in your life - do you FEEL them? Are you moved by compassion for them? What do they NEED? When was the last time you asked them?

Are you praying for them - praying for your kids (rather than preaching to them) - praying for your spouse, your parents, your friends. Are you praying for inspiration as to how to help them in their pain, their hopes and their struggles?

And then lastly, are you taking action to assist them - support them - reaching out to them? Make the call, give the encouragement, change the circumstances, help carry the load . . .

The process has built homes for needy families here in Utah since 2004 - but its also built a mobile medical unit, spurred bone marrow donor testing across the US, and now the annual Laughing At Cancer benefit concert here in Utah. But it doesn't just work for our non-profit foundation - it works in life and love.

Looking for the steps to a life makeover?

Feel compassion outside of yourself

Assess true needs

Pray for inspiration and healing

Take action

Its the way to make-over your heart and win in life and love.

In Love Everyone Wins

2009-08-31T11:08:00.000-07:00

Talking to my friend this morning about love - "two times failed" he said about former relationships. It made me reflect - how often we determine the value of love or relationship by how long it lasted or the current status.

You see, in reality, if you opened your heart twice that says you believed and were willing to be vulnerable twice. You risked big twice. That says a lot.

Even just doing the right thing in relationships when it means being honest, kind and good - that is success.

Often Hollywood paints a picture of love that loses its real beauty. The Bible says it best:
1 Corinthians 13:4 "Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. Love does not demand its own way. Love is not irritable, and it keeps no record of when it has been wronged. It is never glad about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance."

In love everyone wins. Because when you truly love you want OTHER people to win. You pray they do and just by praying that . . . and by keeping your heart right . . . you win too.

Destiny or Both?

2009-08-12T07:47:00.000-07:00

A sweet friend of mine reminded me of the opening scene to Forrest Gump. A white feather floating along in the wind, spinning, twirling and finally landing at Forrest's feet. My friend told me, "Some of life is destiny, some is luck. And sometimes things happen that change the course completely and you don't even see it coming. "

Is it destiny where we land? I've thought that to myself so many times over the last two years. Cancer treatments and finally Paul's passing . . . was it his destiny to die of cancer? And if it was, what is my destiny now without him? It has been a prayer on my heart offered so many times. "God, help me understand how much is my destiny, my path determined by you, and how much is my choice. How much is my part?"

My life feels very much like a river now - moving, changing, finding a new path. It's scary and exciting to see a life open up with new feelings, new hopes and new dreams.

And as I sat by myself recently - a tiny white feather landed next to me. God is good. Some of life is destiny, some is luck. And sometimes wonderful things happen that change the course completely . . . and you don't even see it coming.

Can't Go Back - Only Forward

2009-08-06T21:28:00.001-07:00

Another day over. It's dark outside and the children are getting to bed. I look at tomorrow's schedule.

The reality sounds so trite - can't ever go back - only forward.

I look back at images that are so familiar. But they are only paper images now. I look at my planner and the calendar pages dictate the days, months and years ahead. I've had quite the education watching Paul go through cancer treatments.

Paul was gifted at choosing joy. He chose laughter when he certainly could have complained. He chose adventure when it certainly wasn't convenient or comfortable. He chose love, friends, kids, and singing when he could have isolated and became cynical.

What a great example to myself and our children - there is a choice. We all get to decide our future mindset and how we will face new circumstances. Can't go back - only forward. Forward thinking joy, forward planning joy, forward envisioning joy.

The future seems a whole lot better deciding that's my plan : )

Choose joy.

Coming Up For Air

2009-08-03T15:58:00.001-07:00

So much has changed in my life in the past two weeks. I hardly recognize my life anymore. A huge darkness engulfs me many times a day and the tears seemed endless. Small things still must be addressed - Paul's clothes folded from the laundry, his toothbrush, his phone . . . reminders that he will not be coming back. It is heartwrenching.

Planned months ago, a trip had been scheduled for me to go back to North Carolina for a book conference. When the date came I could think of a million reasons to stay home - who wants to go out into the world after the passing of a spouse? Then again - who wants to be home in the silence of the loss of a spouse? Here or there - I felt neither would be better however, doors to the future might open through a conference like that.

Charlotte North Carolina brought so many things into my life. Amazing, special people. New strength. New vision. New courage. New possibilities. It was truly like coming up for air. In fact, Paul had very much wanted me to go on that trip - and in so many ways it was like breathing again.

Sometimes its hard to see how deep you're sinking until you come up to the top gasping. Then you realize you've been holding your breath for an awfully long time.

Life is about the breathing and the living. Thank you Paul for teaching me that.

A Blog In A Blog? Yup. It's that good.

2009-07-28T22:08:00.000-07:00

I was so moved by Crystal and Greg Adamson's blog that I wanted to share it. If you love Paul it is a "must read". Even has some great pics.

Crystal what you wrote was so thoughtful - yup. More tissue please. Box #34 this week. : )

Click here to go to Crystal and Greg's posts about Paul (2 entries July 21st and July 19th))

http://gregandcrys.blogspot.com/2009/07/well-miss-you-paul.html

Where He Is Not

2009-07-28T07:42:00.000-07:00

“I go east, but He is not there.
I go west, but I cannot find Him.
I do not see Him in the north,
for He is hidden. I turn to the south,
but I cannot find Him.

But He knows where I am going”
(Job 23:8-10 NLT).

I keep looking for Paul. Expecting to get a phone call or see him shuffle down the hall - habit. Expect to look up and see him tapping the ivories or catch him hard at work refinishing the old piano in our garage. The growing emptiness is deafening.

So yesterday I went to where he last was. I went to the cemetery. Gasping I stared at the yellowing strips of grass that had been carefully replaced over the grave - and a handwritten temporary marker "Paul Berg". The reality hit me hard in the chest and knocked the wind out of me til I landed sobbing on my knees. The brutal reality: Paul as I knew him is not here. He is with Jesus. He will not be coming back.

I could not fix his pain. I had tried with every ounce of research, doting, hovering, caregiving, humor, and prayer. What a terrible terrible reality. I'm trusting that God was able to set him free. And Paul who was always a risk-taker, always an adventure seeker, always pursuing life . . . Paul knows where I am going someday too. May the walk of my future be inspired by the courage I learned from him.

A Note From Paul

2009-07-26T18:01:00.000-07:00

(this was taken from Paul's blog on Monday, May 12, 2008 after learning that cancer was again creating tumors in his body)

What Now?
The Bible says to petition the Lord in everything... to make our requests known. God also said we need to bring our requests boldly to the throne. My prayer is for life. Complete healing. A miracle. What is yours? I pray always and glorify God in all I do. He is the healer. He can do anything. He is not uncapable of a miraculous healing. With a word He created the heavens and the earth. I put my faith in Him, the Creator and the Healer.Pray with me starting now. Hide in your closets and pray. Pray with a loud voice. Pray with a whisper in your heart. Pray in a song. God knows your heart and the Holy Spirit intercedes where there are no words. Cry out loud and bring your requests to the Lord. I am.

-Paul

Broke Down

2009-07-25T13:16:00.001-07:00

Laying in my bed sobbing I remembered a scripture Psalm 147:3 "He (God)heals the brokenhearted". That word "broken" seems to fit the very essence of my heart right now, my life, my family, my future. Other words - crushed, shattered, destroyed . . . it is a sense of being lost like no other I've felt.

Nothing could have prepared me for the pain I felt holding Paul in the hours and minutes as he slipped away. In all my desperation I knew I had to let him go to God. To this point we had fought hard - so counter intuitive to pray for release from his mortal body and pain.

Sobbing, thinking on that verse, I had to laugh out loud at the echo of Paul's voice saying, "Hey how long you gonna be broke down?". Years passed as he worked delivering trusses in the construction industry that was a common question. When the long trailers would get stuck in the mud, or when trusses would need to be re-secured along the way, or when a tire would go flat . . . the boss man would ask, "Paul, how long you gonna be broke down? How long til your rig is up and running?"

I can almost hear Paul lovingly asking me . . . "Honey, how long you gonna be broke down?" With my hope and faith in a God that heals the brokenhearted, and memories of a man who laughed in the face of cancer, I will look to the heavens with peace. God will help me heal. I'm brokenhearted but not broke down forever.

Paul Berg - Paper Houses

2009-07-25T09:52:00.000-07:00

Paul Berg Funeral

2009-07-21T16:55:00.000-07:00

Paul Berg passed away peacefully in his sleep on July 21, 2009. His final days were filled passionately surrounded by his friends and family. Paul was a gifted musician and songwriter. He loved auto racing and cars - especially his 65 Cobra. He was an Eagle Scout, professional water-skier, and accomplished jazz pianist. Paul has enjoyed charity work with the Heart 2 Home Foundation since 2004. Paul is the devoted husband of Tiffany Berg and loving father to Kaylan, Ben, Hayley, Hannah and Landon. Services will be held Wednesday, July 22, 2009 at The Adventure Church, 352 W. 12300 S., Draper, Utah. Viewing 1:00 PM Funeral 3:00 PM. Interment held at Lehi City Cemetery.

Sweet Surrender

2009-07-18T06:53:00.000-07:00

More often than not life presents us with circumstances which are less than ideal. Sometimes we are handed heartache, pain, loss and disappointment - in ways which torment us - and in ways that feel could break us completely.

We want to kick and scream and escape . . . and yet, after the yelling, the fighting, the denial, the anger, we find ourselves weeping as a child . . . and all we truly need at that time is for God's arms to hold us.

That sweet surrender is a sacred place. To come to the throne of God as a child - quiet, meek, willing to be submissive, willing to lay everything down . . . that is peace.

"God, no matter the pain, I am willing to lay it all down because I trust that you will make it good." When you walk with God and trust Him, it is all good.

2009-07-07T11:16:00.000-07:00

Friends and Family -

Paul has had a rough week. About ten days ago he began fainting and having seizures. His speaking has become strained and his breathing very difficult - especially at night. Wednesday new scans were taken. Saturday we took him to the hospital as his breathing had become very constricted. A specialist was brought in to meet with Paul and I in the respiratory ICU. We anticipated they would need to surgically place a trach tube - something we had discussed previously with doctors and knew would be needed at some point.

Having not received the results yet from the scans that were taken earlier in the week we were not aware of the progression of the cancer after chemo treatments. We only knew we were seeing new problems surface.

Sadly, new tumors have grown - resistant to the chemo. They are now affecting Paul's vocal cords, airway in throat and creating the seizure activity in his brain. The specialist shared with us that if Paul chose to do the trach surgery it would be problematic at this stage; he would be in the ICU perhaps indefinately with no promise of speaking again as his voice box is quickly being lost to the cancer. In addition the seizures would continue - and with other ramifications. We were told the natural process of the cancer would only give Paul a matter of days.

The doctors believe his breathing will become more and more restricted, he will become more and more tired, and will quietly meet his Savior in his sleep.

With family surrounding us in the ICU on Saturday night, Paul chose to come home to spend his last days peaceful and able to visit. We are so very very sad.

We thank God for the promise of eternity in a place with no more pain. There are no words to express our loss and what we are trying to process as a family. Please pray with us that this is a loving, tender process.

Tiffany

The Prince And The Princess

2009-06-30T20:27:00.000-07:00

Headlines of the same week cover the loss of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett. Two celebrities - very different in their talents and very different in the mark they leave. One seemed so blessed with talent and skill, yet lived out a peculiar isolated lifestyle - the other read like an open book, a familiar friendly face, sharing her faith and courage in her greatest battle. The world has lost two amazing people.

It's an interesting thing to try and sum up the influence of one life. An interesting thing to see the flood of photos over the years, the roles played, and the friends made. One knew she was leaving this life. The other was completely unaware.

Live as if you know - live like life is temporary - because this life really is. We all leave a mark on the world. What will your mark be? How will people remember you? It's not a corny trite saying friend. You get to choose your mark on the world. Really. Everyone chooses.

Live . . . on purpose. At the end of the day . . . it will matter.

Growing Old Separate

2009-04-20T21:29:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I see them at Walgreens buying cough drops. Or driving together; both seated low in their seats, eyes fixed on the road. Sometimes I see them at the hospital; waiting at the doctor's office holding hands. Together. A man and a woman . . . a couple . . . growing old together.

As I look over at my husband Paul seated at the clinic, IV in his arm delivering chemotherapy, I realize we are growing old separate.

Only two years ago he was throwing our children over his shoulder, hoisting large boulders into place on the jobsite, and doing vigorous bench presses daily in our home gym. We exercised together, danced together and planned our lives together. Today everything is different.

We joke about the physical changes - and weep at them in less funny moments. It grieves us both to see . . . his body is tired and weak. It's like a time machine making him older quickly - and it's accelorated - but not me. A sad turn in the life you plan together . . . growing old separate.

Now I look at couples - elderly couples - and I think how lucky they are. To grow old together - at the same speed - on the same path. You can miss it because it is so incremental. What a blessed privelege . . . to grow old . . . TOGETHER.

God Thank You For The Village

2009-04-04T06:10:00.000-07:00

I've always heard the saying, "It takes a village". A trite statement that seems like a blanket response - just words - blah, blah, blah. Today I am thanking God for that village.

As a mom of five precious children, I see clearly where my energy, my wisdom and my influence ends. I see how limited is my influence right now given my main priority of taking care of Paul. I see how much is left undone with my kids - and I also see where grandparents, aunts and uncles, teachers, our church family, and friends are stepping in to support the needs of those children who are so important to me. Other adults are speaking peace and truth into the lives of my children at a time when I feel so lacking.

And in the life of my husband - to see a gift so significant to him - the completion of his replica 65' Cobra - there was yet another village. A village of excited, tool-turning, macho angels that banded together to assess, strategize and complete this massive project.

Every day now Paul and I see signs of his body changing in the way of the cancer. It is shocking and desperate and cruel. Tears and sobbing come at moments unexpected - dreams ripped away far too soon. Pastors and our church family pray with us and give us spiritual strength.

It takes a village. It takes a village because in situations like this the strength of one or two falls miserably short of being capable to stand. It takes a village because united we are stronger - more powerful, more focused. It takes a village because as a force we are marching - together - as a team.

And as I sit alone in the dark weeping in sadness and grief as my husband struggles through the night . . . I am thanking God for the village. The village reminds me . . . I am never alone. And neither is my sweet husband. God thank you for the village.

For A Time Such As This

2009-03-25T21:03:00.000-07:00

The story of Esther. Girl grows up, picked from a slew of others to be groomed into a princess. King meets girl and marries her. New queen from a culture under threat. Her people will be put to death. Queen breaks law and approaches King. Pleads for her people. People saved because of Queen's bravery.

When trouble came to Esther's people she was told (paraphrasing) "you are where you are for a time such as this". Her positioning directly impacted what she was able to do for her people.

Different scenario. It's Sunday morning. We hear the roar of not one, but two 65' Cobra engines outside of our door. The door opens and David Kirkham (and Dave #2) step in. "We heard about your health situation Paul, and we'd like to take you for a ride." Anyone that knows my husband knows he has been working on building a 65' Cobra - his dream car - and has been too sick to work on it for quite some time. Anyone who knows Cobras knows David Kirkham builds some of the most incredible Cobras in the United States - with a factory right here in Utah.

Needless to say, my husband was speechless. We drove side by side down the freeway - he in one Cobra with David Kirkham and I in the other (with Dave #2). Then up the canyon to Sundance and back - grinning all the way - squealing and laughing - taking pictures and soaking up the moment of freedom and life.

Think on Esther. Her path brought her to a position to make a difference in a way no one else could. David Kirkham did not save "a people" - but given the dire circumstances in Paul and I's world right now, he saved the day for my husband with that ride. Because of his positioning, his expertice, his vision, David was able to do something profound - "for a time such as this" - for us it was a ray of hope - a celebrity visit - for David it may have been a simple ride with a stranger who was suffering.

What is God positioning you to do? What arena is God asking you - compelling you to step into - because of work only YOU can do? What lives can you uniquely touch because of the road you've travelled? Trust me - there is a reason. Ask God - "for a time such as this" - where do you want me God? Today I want to stand up for someone. Put me in a position to do that . . . .

Look For The Pony!

2009-03-21T09:24:00.000-07:00

Wow. Things have been pretty rough the last two weeks. Paul had a major surgery and then pneumonia. The lack of sleep, the juggling children to and from school while sleeping at the hospital, worrying about Paul's breathing . . . it has been more than a bit desperate times in our household. Hard to get a handle on things when it's been going so cruddy.

My mom has a saying, "When there is a lot of poop and things look really crappy . . . look for the pony. With that much poop there's GOT to be one!"

So, with that enlightened saying on our minds Paul and I have consciously been "looking for the ponies" in our situation. Dinners lovingly made and delivered for our family. People to pick up our kids from school. A new group of angels helping Paul finish his dreamcar. Phone calls, emails and prayers our way from loved ones close and far. A benefit concert planned on Paul's behalf. I'd say that's a lot of ponies!

How about you today friend? What kind of day are you having? A one pony day? A two pony day? Just how much poop is going on in your life right now? Remind yourself there's got to be a pony in all of that. And then look for it. Perhaps today you could choose to be the pony in someone else's cruddy situation riding in on a white steed to save their day?

Life can get pretty dang heavy. Remember . . . count your ponies. There is ALWAYS a pony when there's a truckload of poop!