It's All Over, But the Screaming

This post has come about at least in part because I've been seeing a therapist. Together, we've been devoting time to processing the vital and intricate ways communication colors all the different roles I play: sister, daughter, co-worker, writer, instructor, friend, follower of Jesus, neighbor, citizen... none of these are less valuable than the others and communication is important in all of it.

And, the other reason communication has become so important is that life has a way of physically manifesting my inner chaos. Has anyone else experienced this?

Just as I found myself needing to have three potentially difficult conversations in three wildly different areas of my life, my asthma began acting up and I was put on new medication that continues to make my heart race and leave me feeling like I might not have enough breath to finish a sentence. Just as I am being called upon to stick up for the health of my relationships, boundaries, and growth, my voice feels weak and powerless, all but lost to a loud and chaotic world... a world where it feels like we must scream to be heard.


I've never been a screamer. In fact, if you and I sat down together at a crowded coffee shop, you'd probably find yourself leaning close to hear me at all. I find this is more true as I get older. Words carry the weight of life and death. Our words (written and spoken) have the power to create wide open spaces for renewal and redemption. Our words also have the power to destroy, assassinate, and suck all the oxygen out of the room.

As I tip-toed carefully into all three of these conversations I felt the weight of life and death, the strain of my inhaler, and my courage wavered.

The first two conversations went well. Don't get me wrong, I dreaded them, I lost sleep over them, and then I was able to show up to them. I walked away from both of these interactions feeling like we had achieved a new level of understanding that strengthened each of us. Making time to have the difficult conversation relieved the pressure in the atmosphere. I learned that my small voice was exactly powerful enough to rise to the challenge. I felt like I was finally making some progress. Finally. 

And then, the third conversation turned out to be a miserable failure. A total disaster. The Hindenburg crash was more graceful than this conversation. It's less fun to learn lessons this way. But these hard won lessons are far more valuable.

Letting Go.

I am terrible at letting go. Plus, I am super capable at fixing things. This, I've learned, is a lethal combination. Sometimes we find ourselves at an impasse. Sometimes the other person is nowhere near a place where they can truly hear us. At this point, there are no magic words to right a sinking ship. But, man, I will nearly drown myself in the process. 

When and how do I let go with some healthy boundaries in tact? And why is it so hard to let go of something that is clearly not working?

I recently read Emotional Agility by Susan David. I've been recommending it to everyone, so I might as well recommend it to you as well. Please go read this book. David talks a lot about letting go of emotions that do not serve us. The agility part comes in with beginning to understand how and when and why we are so triggered and why we cling to such fixed and rigid ways of thinking.

She says, "Just saying the words 'let it go' is enough to bring us a sense of hope and relief. But those same words can bring up the anxiety that we will be left with nothing--that we have resigned ourselves to a hopeless situation. In truth, we are left with everything else. Clinging to that one small piece of emotional driftwood prevents us from feeling part of the dynamic system that is the universe itself... Not everyone will be able to embrace quite the mystical vision, but for everyone, 'let it go' can at least become 'hold it lightly,' and when it happens, the heart expands. This does not mean a passive resignation to fate, but rather a vital engagement with the way things actually are, unfiltered and undistorted by rigid mental lenses." (p.110-111)

The "anxiety that we will be left with nothing." It is so easy for me to fall prey to this mentality of scarcity. I don't want to live this way. I'm practicing being mindful of the larger picture. It is a practice. It is easier said than done, especially when my exit only flares a series of blistering text messages that further solidify my hurt feelings and reasons for leaving.

How do I gracefully exit when I feel he still hasn't heard me? When I want nothing more than to stay and stand and shout? (And fix it!) When I feel like I must stand up for myself because he has clearly forgotten who I am and all that we shared? When do I get to the 'vital engagement with the way things actually are?' Should I respond to him at all? Do I need the last word? What would be the point? Are there any winners here?

Nope. And, I'm not sure that's the point.

The day of the text messages was especially long and emotional. I cried all the way home from work. I cried and I prayed. "What is there left to say? What can I possibly do to stop the madness?"

My answer came clear and quick: Call out the truth. Call out the Good. And then, hold it lightly.

This all sounds so simple now. But, I needed some time to clear the rubble and remember what was good about him. I spent the evening journaling, processing, praying for both of us. Late that night, I found I did have something to say. I did have some apologizing to do. So that's what I did. I showed up (via text) to apologize and call out the truth and call out the good. I did not have to scream or lose my voice. I needed to be present and open and honest. I am a work in progress. I am learning to let go. I might be practicing this for the rest of my life. Bear with me. This progress feels slow.


A Pep-Talk the Size of a Mountain

In my own life, and maybe for most women, that mountain looks a lot like a particular type of waiting... waiting to fill the lonely ache for relationship with a mate, for the wholeness of a healthy couple. For some, it's infertility and waiting for the completeness of family to finally arrive.

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Room Redux

Happy long weekend!

I've been working on a few projects. I'll share this one with you:

This is the before picture of my bedroom:

My tiny bed was in the larger corner...

And my huge amount of desk stuff was crammed against the other wall.

I needed to move things around to get more work done and get Olivers crate out from under my desk. I also needed a bullitin board of some sort for all the little things I keep around me for inspiration... 

Then, I had an inspired idea:

I have this cupboard that's up high and out of sight - when I moved in I stuffed all sorts of cheap old canvases in there. I took them down and tested on the ugliest one. I ripped the canvas away from the frame... What was left was a great little wood frame:

Cotton twill tape or lace or ribbon or wire cut to fit and a staple gun. That's all you need.

I found a pinterest pin that said to give wood an "aged look" you soak steal wool in a cup of apple cider vinegar (I use that stuff for almost everything now) over night and sand the wood with it. I let the wood dry outside on the porch. As it dried - it turned a sort of grey color. Then I attached cotton twill tape and antique lace (that I had on hand) with my trusty staple gun.

I used wood clothes pins to attach all my little things.

Then I moved around the furniture:

I created a corner for myself - instead of pushing everything against the wall

Now I face the center of the room when I work.

I put twinkle lights up instead of having a reading light.And Oliver has a better crate area, too. The great thing was I got a huge amount of change and organization without spending any money.

Word of the Year

Last year, my word was of the year was: Enjoy. It was a great year. Full of travel and accomplishing big things. It was also filled with uncertainty and risk and blind flying leaps that left me breathless. I'm thankful for every minute of it. But what should my word for 2013 be?

Really it should be theme of the year... There is no single word... I can only get it down to a phrase.

In 2013, I will be saying: Yes to the Good Things!

Yes to trying new things. Yes to speaking (writing) the truth. Yes to finding new ways to love people and bring people together. Yes to taking the time to celebrate all the good and beauty that is happening.

I hope that you'll join me!



Apparently the world has not ended yet. At least not for places like New Zealand. 

Anyway, earlier this week, the great guys at the Good Men Project published another one of my essays. This one was actually from my thesis and I like how it turned out.. Read it here: The Grace Hotel

If you haven't read it yet, I hope that you do. If you have read it, I hope that you aren't sick of these shameless plugs.


I've been thinking all day about what I would say about love and the advent season...

Last night, at church, and every year about this time, I am reminded that the Isrealites were actually looking for a leader, they anticipated a war, they wanted the current government overthrown - to be released from oppression.

They followed a star.

What they got was a baby.

Whatever else love is, it's always so surprising.

Tonight I am grateful for the reminder.



It's the 2nd Sunday of Advent. This marks the week that we proclaim our Love. It also happens to be my parents 39th wedding anniversary. I can think of no better example of love in action than these two:

Their love spills al over everything in such a beautiful way. Congratulations!