Three ways to live a life of content

     Maybe it's the fact that my house is on the market and I'm at my wit's end financially and with home school. Or perhaps its that I'm constantly filled with ideas and a propensity to act boldly on them without first prayerfully considering each and every idea. Or that sometimes I pray an issue to death when I should have simply acted on, and I have an uncanny ability in 80 percent of situations to over OR under pray. Regardless of the reason or circumstances, I've been feeling like I've been living in a state of discontent. 
     The waiting room. 
     I've called it this before. It's where I sit and (God help me) pray and listen patiently (as if!) for God to answer. I'm laying it before Him and wondering if He will make the path clear. Or how long I should wait exactly before I must do something. Is it logic that's driving me or faith? I've relied of faith for so long that I'm beginning to wonder if I shouldn't just do something. I don't really want to take control away from God, but I also know God gave me a brain and skills. Logic dictates that if I'm having a struggle, I should work through it with the brains and resources He gave me. That's faith, too, right?
     It can sometimes be confusing to know just what to do, but one thing is certain. God is not a God of chaos. He beckons us into His peaceful presence, of only we will reach out and take His hand. 
     Today's blog is about three ways I can be content. 
     Content, according to the dictionary, means "in a state of peaceful happiness." Two things immediately occur to me: happiness is temporary, and to be in a state is also temporary. The dictionary defines state as "the particular condition that someone or something is in at a specific time."
     I can't say for sure, but I don't think God wants us to be content only sometimes. I think He desires for us heaping portions of contentment, because it means that even when things aren't "settled" in life, we can rely on Him to bring us peace. He also understands that we are human, and sometimes we will screw this up no matter how hard we try. 
     Here are three things that have helped me: 
     1. Count your blessings — Literally begin to write down all the things you are grateful for. My friend Jan gave me a pocket-size book that I keep in my purse. It's a place I can be intentional about the blessings that are adding up in my life. You don't need a special book, though. Keep a journal or hang up a piece of lined paper in your kitchen. Dedicate a portion of your wall and call it the "Gratitude Wall." Or, put plain paper in frames and use Dry Erase markers to write out your messages of thanksgiving every day. 
    2. Pray — Nothing makes my heart more soft than to take it to the Lord. If I'm feeling particularly unsettled or stressed out, I sit down to pray with a promise that I won't get up until my jaw isn't clenched or my shoulders are no longer tense. Whatever spot you physically experience discontentment, don't stop praying until it's no longer affected. Take deep breaths. Concentrate on the rhythm of your breathing or your heart beat while you meditate on scripture. 
     Pray whatever the Lord brings to mind. Journal your prayer. Look up scriptures that He brings to mind. Try not to be resentful of your time in prayer, because He will assuredly help you complete whatever tasks you set aside to seek Him. Trust Him. You will do more with Him than you could ever accomplish on your own in that discontented space. I speak this wisdom from experience! 
     3. Choose peace over strife — Peace really has nothing to do with how much stuff I have, whether I've paid the bills or am living debt-free. It is not related to how my kids behave or whether I've accomplished anything on my task list. Peace isn't a result of a clean house or a loving husband or what's going on around me.  
     Peace is a fruit of the spirit. So if I'm living a life filled with the love of Christ Jesus, I will find contentment. The closer I am to Him, the more I am bathing in peace. When I sometimes stray, I begin to get an uneasy spirit.
      Remember that dictionary definition of content. I think it sounds nice, but I like what Paul says about contentment in God's word. Philippians 4:11-14 is one of my favorites: 
I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. 
      We all go through periods when things aren't working out in a way we want them to. Whether it's my house selling, homeschooling, ministry work, my lack of -- and need for -- a paying job. All I really need is Him who gives me strength. 
     One of my favorite worships songs lately is Cornerstone by Hillsong United. Let these words sink into your soul:


My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly trust in Jesus name

Christ alone; cornerstone
Weak made strong; in the Saviour's love
Through the storm, He is Lord
Lord of all

When Darkness seems to hide His face
I rest on His unchanging grace
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil 

Her healing was complete in Christ

     I have discovered over the years that while I sometimes feel like the queen of “TMI” (too much information), it is often my fear of talking about life in real ways that isolates me and keeps me from receiving all God wants for me.
      Not only that, but it separates me from others instead of uniting us. Because our stories are the explanations for why we stumble, the reasons we sometimes succeed, and why we may appear the way we do to others around us.
      Until we understand what motivates another human being, we cannot be united.
      It is time, if there ever was another, to be authentic, genuine and transparent. That is the heart of Mighty Strong Girls —to shed light on all things the enemy would have us keep hidden shamefully in the dark.
      So here’s a couple reveal-all truths about me: I have five plantar warts on my feet — two on one foot and three on another. Not that big of a deal, you may think. They have been there since my last pregnancy — 10 years ago! They have been frozen twice at my dermatologist‘s office, and I have tried every medical and alternative treatment at my disposal to no avail. In the meantime, both of my children have gotten the virus and developed warts that were easily treated and cured. I sooooo want a pedicure, but I’m plagued by embarrassment and shame.
      Here’s the second TMI: I struggle frequently with severe, sometimes debilitating pain caused by endometriosis, a disorder of migrating ovarian tissue that —in my case — has attached itself to my bowels and other organs. I find myself often clenching my teeth through the pain, fearful of lashing out at others around me as it takes every bit of emotional energy and mental strength — not to mention the grace of God and a plethora of prayers — to prevent the “outer me” from being a reflection of the turmoil and angst I feel on my inside.
      When there is something about your body that seems odd, pain-filled, unusual or untreatable, it begins to transform how you feel about yourself. A few warts can make a middle-aged mom quite self-conscious; the pain of my disorder can make me feel all-around ugly.
      It makes me identify just a little with the unnamed sick woman in the Bible. She had been bleeding for 12 years. She was suffering, and doctors could do nothing, as her condition grew worse instead of better.
      Do you know anyone who has been through such a trial? Have you? I cannot fathom her fear and pain, but in her faith, she sought out a different type of healing.
      I do not think it was a desperate manuveur, though I imagine her life was lived in a state of desperation. She had heard the stories of Jesus — this Son of God, Son of Man who performed miracles, who was healing the sick and lame, exorcising demons and walking on water.
      She must have known without a shadow of a doubt that He was capable of doing what no mere human could and stop the bleeding once and for all. It probably took an extraordinary effort in those days to get close the Him, as crowds of thousands followed Him everywhere He went.
      She did not have a friend in His ministry or influential contacts (I imagine she was lonely, as often those with long-term medical issues are rejected and discarded by society at large), so she would have to take her bleeding, aching body and make her way to Him. She was not planning a face-to-face meeting; she probably did not feel worthy of taking up any of Jesus’ precious time, as I imagine most everyone else didn‘t treat her as valuable so even in her faith, she likely doubted He would either!

      Still, she thought to herself that all she really needed was to touch the hem of his cloak. So she pressed in. She pressed in to the crowds and pressed in to get close enough, and she reached out.
      The bleeding stopped and instantly the sick woman was no longer defined by the malfunctioning body she lived inside. The chains were broken; she was free. It must have felt absolutely indescribably incredible. But this was not a feeling exclusive to her. Just as instantly as she touched the fabric on Jesus‘s cloak, He felt her healing, too.
      Can you imagine? Our healing is not something we alone feel. It is not an isolated celebration. Not only does the Lord know when we are healed, he feels and experiences it alongside us! Isn’t that exciting!
      Jesus knew His power had been utilized even in the midst of a sea of bodies bumping and knocking into Him like waves. Even the bewildered disciples asked Him how He could single out one person touching Him in the wild crowd. But Jesus wants to acknowledge her, not because He does not know. He simply is inviting her to share her testimony. So He waits.
      Finally the woman — now defined by her wholeness and not her unhealthiness — acknowledges, fearful of God, trembling at the feet of Jesus and confessing that it was her.   She is a woman who knew the fear of God. She is aware of his almighty power, that He is God of the universe who can do great and wonderful things.
      She had been shunned and dismissed — the kind of patient who keeps relentlessly pursuing medical care for the same symptoms. Doctors were probably patient initially,
determined to find a cure, to get to the bottom of her mysterious bleeding. But after 12 years, I wonder how many of those experts remained resolute in finding a cause for her
hurting. Who, I wonder, remained by her side at all for all those years as her health continued on a downward spiral?
      She schemed and succeeded. She seized the wonderful power of God through the vessel of Jesus and His healing touch. Now Jesus wanted her to share what she had done. In fact, Luke’s version of the story says she tells her story “in the presence of all the people.”
      Don’t you think that’s why He asked, so that she would share her testimony of her wholistic healing? It wasn’t just about the physical. I believe Jesus wanted her to understand the whole healing that had taken place just then — emotionally, she now knew true love; mentally, she was freed from the torment of physical pain and the sadness of social isolation; and spiritually, she had no doubt of her Savior, as she entered a personal, intimate relationship with the Son of God.
      Jesus wanted her to verbalize her story — not for His sake. For the crowd to hear, for her to know, for you to understand the mysterious, amazing power of God and what He desires to do in our lives because of His great love for us when we simply fear him and have faith.
      “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering,” Jesus says to the woman in Mark 5:34.
      His healing starts with trust and faith. To open myself up for physical healing through expert care, I must connect with the master Healer spiritually, to be available for the miraculous, to trust in a healing power not entirely available in my physician’s office.
      To fully heal means I must be willing to change, open to something radical, much like the woman who had seen all the doctors and done all the “normal” things. I must also be open to sharing, willing to tell others, available to testify to the power of Jesus.
      My Savior desires for me to be authentic, honest, real, transparent and available to share His truth. This is what heals, but it is also what unites. It is what bonds us and saves us.
      We invite you, dear readers and sisters in Christ, to open your mind and heart to the stories and ideas as you take a journey on with Mighty Strong Girls to transform.
      The first step to change begins on the inside; it is a LIFELONG ENDEAVOR with everlasting consequences.

     Mighty Strong Girls is evolving — now filled with more girls' stories, more advice from girls to girls, a FREE small group study guide, and growth opportunities and challenges in wholistic health. You can now buy a copy online at http://mightystronggirls.com/the-magazine.html

Girls need heroes

     About a year ago, I happened across the Instagram account of a girl on my daughter's softball team. Turns out, she was in her grade at school. If I'm doing my math right, that would have made her 9 or 10, maybe 11, at the time. 
     I was stunned. 
     First, her account was public. Anyone could view her profile and all her posts/photos/comments. 
     Second, everything she posted reeked of desperation to be loved.
     Her professed relationship status (not a mandatory part of your Instagram profile, by the way) was "used to be taken" with lots of sad faces. She had photo after photo of handwritten notes about her unrequited love for a boy in her grade. She took every opportunity to let anyone who would give her attention know that she still yearned for her ex-boyfriend and would take him back in a heartbeat.
     Third, what on earth is a child this young even doing on social media. Ugh! This kind of thing just annoys me! If you give your elementary or middle school age kid a phone and access to the internet (which I think is dangerous and unwise to begin with but if you decide they are responsible enough) police it, hover like a helicopter, comb through everything daily, watch over them like a hawk. They are children. It's your job! Help them discern what and how to post. Protect them from being vulnerable and victimized! 
     Anyway, I talked to my husband about this, as he was assistant coaching the team. He said this girl made him feel uncomfortable in her desperation for his attention, baiting him for remarks about her appearance and constantly needing to be validated that included being on her cell phone texting people if she couldn't get anyone in the dugout to talk to her. She had no sense of boundaries in relationships.
     In that entire season, I never saw a dad. I never heard mention of a dad. Not that she didn't have one. I have no idea. But he was not present. 
     Her story is hardly unique or new. Girls whose dads (or stepdads or grandpas) aren't around or available are naturally desperate for masculine love. Shouldn't this be predictable? 
     Well, we can simply observe, shake our heads and be critical. OR, we can all decide to do something to come alongside these girls. It's not their fault! 
     Of course this girl craves love. We were ALL built to desire love. 
     Why do dads matter? 
     — 21 percent of 12-15-year-olds said their No. 1 concern was not having enough TIME with their parents, while only 8 percent of parents thought they didn't have enough time with their kids. 
     — Girls who live with their mothers only have significantly less ability to control impulses, delay gratification and have a weaker sense of conscience (right or wrong). 
     — When a father is involved in his kids' day-to-day activities, they are more likely to confide in him and seek his emotional support. 
     — Girls with good fathers are less likely to flaunt themselves to seek male attention. 
     Again, these are all statistics gathered for Dr. Meg Meeker's amazing book, Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters: 10 Secrets Every Father Should Know. 
     How can you really live out the role of a strong father? 
     According to Meeker, you can become her hero. In fact, she's naturally chosen you, and she cannot survive without a humble hero who is her rescuer and defender. 
     "She needs a hero to navigate her through a treacherous popular culture. And you should know that being a twenty-first century hero is tough stuff. It means walking into embarrassing, uncomfortable or even life-threatening situations in order to rescue your daughter,"  says Meeker.
     As much as it irritates me that the media and popular culture is responsible for objectifying and sexualizing girls, it angers me that it demasculinizes men and boys. They've made men appear weak, spineless and without purpose.
     It's no wonder our men aren't sure how to be a hero anymore. Culture is robbing them of a key component of their God-ordained identities, just as we are deceiving girls about their value in God's eyes. 
     It's my prayer that events like this weekend's Father-Daughter Gala and others will begin to heal the past hurts that have come between relationships and seal a bond between dads and daughters that is filled with redemption and hope. 
     As Father's Day approaches, I celebrate the awesome dad my husband is for his daughter. He builds her up, joins her in the things that interest her and expresses love for her that encompasses all of who she is. 
     Let's pray for a courageous generation of dads to come to the rescue of ALL girls. We need for men to intervene when girls are young and begin speaking truths into their lives! They don't have to be dads; mentors and father figures like grandpas or uncles can be very effective, too. Godly men, it's time to be courageous; we support and celebrate you! We are fighting this battle together. Let's do it radically and with conviction! 

How blessed am I?

     An attitude of gratitude. 

     I have a habit of repeating those four words. A lot. 

     They aren't my words. In fact, I don't know whose words those are. They sure do resemble some of God's words. "Give thanks in EVERYTHING," are words from His book. Paul writes about trials and sorrow being considered pure joy...because contentment is found in Christ alone. 

     I throw these words around like I own them: "Let's start every prayer, every day, every thought with an attitude of gratitude." I'm not saying them for teen girls or my friends or my family. 

     I. Am. Saying them. For. ME. 

     That's right. I'm selfish. I like stuff. I get caught up in worldly desires. I want, want, want. All the time. I justify. I cave in to my children's begging and their desires. I honestly believe things like, "If we just had more....," "We will give _________(fill in the blank) as soon as we make $__________(fill in the blank," "We would ___________(fill in the blank) if we could, but clearly we can't." 

     On top of all that, I whine about bad days, complain about my kids, have secret desires that my husband would make more, do more, make less, do less (circle one or two, depending on my mood that day). 

     You see, my heart is not pure. In fact, God says my heart is "deceitful above all things," from Jeremiah 17:9. Can you believe it? 

     So I must CONSTANTLY remind myself to be thankful. Always. Every moment of every day. 

     Because I have so, so much to be thankful for — great health, food three (or more) times every day, a roof over my head, a van to get me where I need to be, wonderful friends, the most amazing husband and two children who weren't supposed to be born. I have abundantly more than I deserve. 

     For two and a half years, I lived a VERY UNGRATEFUL life. I couldn't get pregnant, and then I was told the odds that I'd ever have a child were quite small. Maybe about 5 percent. 

     Back then, I was starting to think again maybe God was real. I had been raised in the Lutheran faith, churched my entire childhood and then convinced throughout my college years and early career that there was no God. High school friends had planted seeds of doubt, and liberal professors sowed them. I was cultivating the ideas when I met my husband. We were both highly doubtful, to say the least. 

     We were desperate, though, when we wanted to have a baby. And so we asked for prayers. Our names were added to prayer lists. Yet, we never prayed. 

     But you see, God loves us so much that He gives us exactly what we need when we need it. He answered the prayer we never prayed, and He gave us Abby. And then even more miraculously, He gave us Ryker. Undeserving, unbelieving sinners. He answered. He gave. Because He loved. 

     Those answered prayers led us to the town where we live now, to the church where we were born again, to the life God wanted for us, to a place where we would seek Him and walk in His will. 

     He is so very wise. 

     There are prayers He is answering on our behalf from others that we don't even know about. There are ways He is moving because of His love for us. He is almighty, omniscient and omnipresent. 

     For that, I must respond with an attitude of gratitude. For all I am and all I have, I owe to His great mercy and grace. 

     Daily it is my pleasure to thank Him. I do so by choice, a free will that He bestowed on me, and I'm not under any obligation. I thank Him because I love Him. I love Him because He loves me. 

     My attitude of gratitude is a song of praise to the heavenly King! Singing it brings me great joy. 

“May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer” (Psalm 19:14).

Tears over cherry cheesecake

     Today I began my day stressed. 
     Anxious over the magazine — impending deadlines, event planning, photos to be taken, editing, financing, printing. Even though I know it's going quite well, beautiful and orchestrated by God. Money is better than ever. The quality of the publication is breath-taking, and the prospects for partnership opportunities are about to make me burst with excitement. The last days of the kids at camp and me working at home are ticking away. A new chapter is about to begin. 
     And at a time when things couldn't be going better. I'm stressed. Tense. Muscles tight, jaw popping, head throbbing (could be the teeth cleaning at the dentist today???) kind of anxious. Super unusual for me in the last five years of my life. Maybe it's the doggie drama. Our dog has had three (with a fourth now scheduled) trips to the vet in the two weeks of the kids being at camp. He's whining, whimpering, groaning and limping in pain. It's making it hard for me to work in the same room. Talk about hampering concentration! 
     It could be nervous excitement as we are planning some things "in secret" for Mighty Strong Girls, and the unveiling is going to be as fun as working out all the details. It could be uneasiness about homeschooling preparation. As in, I'm ready to create calendars, paint a wall, decorate reading nooks for the kids and make the transition fun and exciting (but I have to get the magazine designed first). 
     It might also be that when I decided to blog again, I would seek God about what I write. In the last week, I feel He's given me two topics: forgiveness and patience. It's not the topics that are stress-inducing. But while I continued to pray, He put people on my heart for each. One requires digging into my past and tearing down walls I built over something ridiculous; the other requires holding my tongue and letting Him work at His pace and not mine when it comes to a situation involving two loved ones. So while I may be writing on these topics, I think God is seeking me to experience His work through them first. 
     I'm continuing to be in prayer, meditating on times when I had to forgive and be patient, remembering how faithful God was in those situations and leaning into Him as I prepare for these challenges ahead so that I can face them with a joyful attitude and not one filled with anxiety. 
     I took a big step tonight. I sat down with a slice of homemade cherry cheesecake, made by my teenage friend who's celebrating her sweet sixteenth birthday today. Can you believe it? A teenager made me cheesecake on HER BIRTHDAY! How lucky am I to know someone so wonderful. And this isn't the first time she made me cheesecake, but the first two times, the cake was eaten before it made it to my house. LOL! 
     Eating the cheesecake, I reflected on how far I've come and she's come in the last year. Both are worth celebrating! I think God is celebrating, too. 
     As I continued enjoying the decadence, I read a note from an old friend about her decision to homeschool her children. It was so beautifully written —almost like a dance where the rhythm picks up and then slows between her and God about being in tune with His will for her family. It made me smile, then laugh and cry and laugh again. I miss her; she was the first "real" friend I had! We met in junior high and went through so much together — good, bad and ugly — and both came out better for it, or should I say despite it, on the other side. I sure wish we lived closer to one another. 
     I notice as I ate and read and then licked my plate (transparency, remember?) that my stress had melted away. Contentment, the very thing I told my son he needs more of this morning, isn't something that comes easily to most of us. Maybe the fact that so many things are unsettled was causing discontent. I reminded Ryker that we must seek contentment. We must WANT it. We have to avoid distractions like jealousy, pride and anger that can steal our contentment. Happiness cannot be found in money, stuff or accomplishments. It has its roots in relationships — Jesus first, then your family and then other relationships. 
     Spending some time reflecting on my emotionally tumultuous day reminded me life is good, even if isn't always good, but that God is good ALL THE TIME. Like cherry cheesecake and old friends.