The Time I Thought I was Administrative

Years ago--14 to be exact--I applied for a job at a church.

Let me explain something...I NEVER planned to work at a church.  I was not angry toward God or anything, I wasn't against the church, I just didn't see myself in a role like that.

I had volunteered at this particular church for 7 years before applying for a job.  I had been through a few Kids Pastors and several staff and frankly, was a little frustrated by the direction things were going, so we decided to look for a new church.  Instead, as I started having conversations, I ended up on staff--isn't that the best answer--dive into the deep end?

The role I applied and was hired for was an administrative one, working with the Volunteer Director.  In fact, a huge part of why I wanted the job was because of the lady who would be my boss--Bobbi Miller.  Maybe I should be embarrassed to admit this, but when I met with Bobbi the first time, I was actually more drawn to her than to the role itself.  Not only did she have this amazing vision for what Kids ministry could be, she was a mom who had kids a few years older than me.  My girls were 2 and 4 at the time and I was desperate to find someone who could be a mentor to me since I didn't have a mom.

I was hired and even though there were others more qualified, I was given a chance.

One week later, Bobbi moved into the Kids Pastor role so her previous role--my immediate boss--was now open.  Honestly, that kinda rocked my world.  I signed on to work with Bobbi and even though I would still report up to her, it wouldn't necessarily be side by side.

The next big thing is that we completely changed the way we did ministry.  We switched to a "function" model rather than an age-based one.  What this meant on the practical level to me was that I was "losing" leaders to other parts of the ministry. And even though I understood it and believed it was the right thing to do, I was a little worried about how we were going to find people to serve when we already didn't have enough.

And, if that wasn't enough, we decided to give all of our people who had been serving the entire summer off.  I remember sitting at a forum with other large churches in the area and being told what  a mistake that was and that we would regret it when none of them returned.

This was all within the first month.  Flash forward a few months to summer...

It was my favorite!  My job was to communicate back and forth with people who had said they would serve one Sunday that summer (over 600 of them!!!) and place them in a role.  Most of this was done via email, but it's amazing what you learn about people if you go beyond just a "form" reply.  On Sundays, after they checked in to serve, I found myself giddy.  It was SO fun to put faces with names and be able to comment on little details they had told me. 

And I realized--I think for the very 1st time--how much I loved people.  I loved hearing their story, being included in their lives, but most of all, I loved getting to serve them.  I rolled/folded their serving t-shirts and prayed over them.  I helped to set up a cafe and picked fun snacks that I hoped would make them smile.  I learned their kids' and spouses and pets names. 

And through this whole time, we were still interviewing people to be my boss.  As I voiced my fears to Bobbi, I remember her asking me more than once if I wanted the job.

My answer was an emphatic "NO!"  I was not qualified.  There were parts of the role that were unfamiliar to me.  I'm a behind the scenes person.  I'm not a leader.  And the list of reasons why just snowballed. 

Finally, mid-summer, after an amazing experience with a kid at a camp our church was hosting, I plopped in Bobbi's office and asked, "What if I AM interested?"  We talked and prayed and I cried (bet that part's a surprise) and then walked next door into our executive pastor's office.  She told him what was going on (I was still a mess).  I will forever remember his question to me: "This role is hands on with people--and they are messy.  How does that make you feel?"

I wish I could remember my exact response, but it was something along the lines of, "I know.  Messy gets complicated.  But, is there anything better than getting to be on the front row watching God work in them--and if there were even a slight chance that I would get to be involved in some way in that process, how could I resist that? People are SO WORTH the mess!"

And despite the fact that once again I was not qualified for the role, I was hired in place of others who were. And I can honestly say, I have no regrets about ever stepping into that role--or any of the others it morphed into over the next 10 years. 

I can tell you story after story of individuals I got to know and love and serve during that time...

Shannon and Barb who said YES to coaching when we didn't  really know what that role meant and didn't even have teams to coach yet...

Chris who filled out an app to serve the day he turned 12 (the youngest age we allowed students to serve) and continued to serve until he left for college...

Beth who led a team to pray for a non-believer who served alongside them in one of our baby rooms...

Patty who followed me around one Sunday (in heels) to figure out where she wanted to serve and ended up on staff alongside me...

Jennifer who created a team that served breakfast to our leaders every week...

Barry who went beyond being a small group leader to being a resource for the parents--most of whom were single and doing it on their own--of the boys in his group...

Katherine & Savannah who spent Valentines night creating treats for their humongous small group of kids...

Paul & Mike & Trevor & Jared who made our Sandbox room a place where my own kids loved going (not to mention how their air guitar skills progressed)...

Tasha & Aaron who caught the vision of a room for leaders' kids and brought in bingo and prizes...

Christie and Becca who created the very 1st large group experience for our preschoolers...

I could go on and on here for at least another few pages, but this post has been long enough. 

Sometimes God shows us very clearly what our gifts are.  And sometimes, He surprises us and allows us to step into a place that feels uncomfortable at first so that we can fully trust in Him and allow HIM to do the work instead of doing it ourselves. 

This is what happened to me.  I was allowed to serve beside some of the greatest and can't help but laugh when I think about not stepping into the role because I thought I was too administrative...

Is there something God is whispering to you?  Some place He is asking you to push the boundaries?  A boat He's asking you to step out of?  Or into?  If so, it won't always be easy. And you may cry a few tears.  And hit your head against the wall once in a while. 

But it will be worth it.

I promise. 

The Pictures Don't Tell the REAL Story of the First Day of School

I like to plan memorable experiences.  I'm a bit (just a itty bitty tad-ha!) sappy and I like to plan scenarios in my head of meaningful interactions. A great first day of school starts with the night before.  Okay, actually, it should have started a few weeks ago, but the night before would still be good, right?

Here's how I would have liked the night before school to go:

• Our family would sit down to a dinner that I cooked with everybody's favorites--including a yummy dessert.
• We would have engaging conversation about what they were looking forward to and what they were nervous about.  
• We would pray for Jesus to shine through the girls as they start a new year.
• The girls would have their really cute 1st day of school outfits picked out
• We'd have a quiet night and everybody would be in bed before 10pm
• The fridge would already be stocked with all the stuff needed to make their lunches

Needless to say, that is NOT how it went.  

First of all, I work until 8pm on Tuesdays and I didn't cook dinner.  I think they picked up Rosas (but I only know they because I saw the container in the trash--I totally forgot to plan anything for them).  I don't even know if they ate together. I did hear that Hope went to give her boyfriend a piece of cheese from our fridge, but there was mold on it.  So there's that.

And then, Hope went to get some school supplies with her boyfriend because she realized she didn't have any paper.  Or pens and pencils.  And, by the way, the only shoes she has are jandles and riding boots.  Because we didn't order them until Monday night...So they won't  be here until Thursday..  Two days after school starts.  But hey, I did buy lunchboxes a few weeks ago and Mimi bought new backpacks for both girls. So we are winning in that category.

To add some excitement to the evening, my car decided not to start when I got off work.  So Brian came (did I mention it's a 40 min drive from my house to work??) and we went to get a new battery hoping that was the problem (we had already done this 3 nights before,).  Here's a PSA for you...Walmart at 9:30 the night before school starts is probably not gonna make your bucket list.

We finally arrived home @10:30pm with no car and now 2 batteries.  Brian had to work for another hour and I went through the fridge to make sure none of the other items I had planned on using to make lunches were moldy.  Sadly, the strawberries also decided to become a science experiment.  You might ask, "Why didn't you think of checking this earlier in the week?  I DID!  They weren't moldy then!

At this point, I was too tired to head out to the store, so I made my list and went to bed, praying that our 1st day of school traditions would go well.

I'll bet you know where this is headed, huh?

Contrary to what the pictures show, the first day of school was not full of smiles.

I woke up early to head to the store to replace the moldy cheese and strawberries and pick up an extra treat for their lunches.  I made the batter for the pancakes and decided I wouldn't cook the bacon in the microwave like normal.  I would fry it in a skillet on the stove--with the thought that the smell of bacon would put everyone in a good mood.

Let me back up for a minute.  I'm not the pancake maker in the house.  Caroline makes them from scratch (i.e. no Bisquick).  Brian uses Bisquick, but he makes fluffy, yummy pancakes.  They already cut their eyes at each other when I let them know I would pinch hit and make the pancakes this year since Brian was going out of town, so I knew I was fighting an uphill battle, but it was worth it to me.

Why pancakes, you ask?

Because, I am allowed 4 pics of my girls without complaining each year:  Christmas Eve jammies, Easter, 1st day of school and last day of school.  The 1st day of school pic includes one of them holding a plate with pancakes made in the grade #  they are starting that day.  I have very few things I am consistent on, but this is one of them.  I never took the cute pic of my girls with the same stuffed animal every month their first year.  I never took them to get professional pics on their bdays.  (It was all I could do to manage their yearly well-child visit and even those have been several months late at times).  This is my ONE THING, people!!!

Sooooo, back to the first day of school.  I was told I made the pancakes too early.  And they were flat.  And I don't have the skill with the pancake pen that Brian does so it took several tries to get 1s and 9s to be recognizable as such.  So they posed with the deformed #11 and #9, but neither one ate them.  Honestly, I didn't either.

One child was mad at me because I had asked her not to wear sweat pants on the 1st day, so she was wearing jeans and DID NOT CARE how she looked.  I was then told I drove too slow (because 1-2 miles over the speed limit is tortoise-paced) and that I slammed the brakes too hard.

I was "THAT" parent cheering as I zipped out of the parking lot immediately after they shut the car door (and *might* have locked the doors as fast as I could).  I didn't wait to make sure they got inside.  I got out of there as fast as I could and threw up a prayer for the teachers as I drove away.

So, when you see the pics of my girls smiling and holding their pancakes, just know there is much more going on behind the scenes and just because we took a 1st day of school pic in which said teens are smiling, doesn't mean that was the reality of our morning. 

We are all just a hot mess and one step away from disaster.  Some of us just cover it better than others.

These are a few of my Favorite Things

I can easily tell you several things that I don't like at any given time.  It's my super power--I'm gifted that way.

BUT, I also have so many things I love.  Here, in no particular order, are a few of my favorite things:

Willow.  If you are my friend on IG of FB, you already know this as I tend to post a "few" pics of her there.  She is just SUCH a delight.  A friend of mine said that dog was God spelled backward.  I'm telling ya--I've seen God's kindness in so many ways through this little dog.  She brings such joy to our family and I cannot imagine life without her.  She makes me happy.

Connecting People.  I have always said that I have a hard time making/keeping good friends, but I can find other people's best friends for them.  I seriously love when someone mentions they are looking for a person who can do X.  This is truly one of the things I do best and it brings me so much joy--whether its successful or not.

Podcasts. I started these to motivate me on my morning walks (I would only allow myself to listen when I was walking so I would have something to make me put on my tennis shoes and head out the door in this stupid oven we call Texas), but they have become so much more!  I bounce between several that I love, depending on my mood.  I even listen to them in the car every time I'm in there now (sidenote--my car is so old that it doesn't have an aux outlet so I had to buy one of those cassette tape things with a cord attached that I plug into my phone so the sound goes through the speakers--whoever invented this is my new best friend!). 

Little Clayland.  Y'all!  I discovered this because she made a figure for a podcast group I listen to.  I eagerly await her IG post each day so I can see what she's made and the ones where she shows a video just fascinate me.  I love seeing people use their gifts to create!  In fact, I had her make one for me to give as a gift for a special occasion coming up.  I received it this week and can't wait to show it to you--it's literally the best money I have spent this year.  Check her out at www.littleclayland.com or on Insta as littleclayland.  You won't be disappointed!

Free Books.  I post about books more than I read, but I just love talking about books.  And let me tell you, on the first day of the month when I get my email for Kindle First "free" books (technically, I pay a fee for Amazon Prime so I know they aren't free, but it feels like it when I don't get a bill for them) make me giddy!  Last month, they even let me get all the suggested books! 

Sweet Blessings.  I don't even know how I discovered this years ago--if you were the one who told me about it--THANK YOU!!!  Each month, she has a theme and assigns a scripture for each day.  The idea is to write it out and claim it.  Since today is August 1st, I just started a new one--God's promises.  If you don't have anything you are reading right now, I think you should do this with me.  It's just the best! You can find her on FB at Sweet Blessings or her website at www.swtblesings.com.  Let me know if you do it!




These are a few of the things making me happy today.  What about you?

Reaching Out

I have a friend.

She's not someone I see very often.  In fact, I've seen her less than 5 times in the last 20 years.

And I have talked to her on the phone about as many times.  Typically we text.

I haven't been a very good friend to her over the years.  I went MIA for a majority of the time after college.

But she showed up at my dad's funeral and has continued to send me random texts in the months since.  There's no rhyme or reason to them, but they always come at a time when I need to know that someone knows that grief doesn't end at a funeral. (Actually, that's probably when the real grief starts.)

I received one text on a Sunday that said she was praying for me because going to church after her dad died was hard for her.  Just that morning, I was telling someone how singing songs about death (which we do a lot of in church) made me sad and relieved at the same time.  Sad because death seems so final, but relieved (maybe even joyful) because Jesus overcame it and the power of that overwhelms me.

Here's what I've learned from my friend:

• When God brings people to mind, I should let them know.  It doesn't need to be a grand gesture, just a simple text or comment on their IG pic or blog post will often suffice.
• Never think that my grief/challenges are unique to me.  Someone else around me is going through, has gone through or is about to go through the same thing.
• God speaks to us through friends as much as He does through the Bible and church.  And if we see them as such, life is so much more fun.
• Even though we don't deserve it, grace abounds.  I can hold grudges or I can give grace to those who don't live up to my expectations.  

What I'm trying to do is to ask myself every morning, "Who do I need to reach out to?"  It might be a co-worker, a friend or even one of my daughters, but there is always a face that comes to mind.  Sometimes I text.  Sometimes I make it a point to have a conversation.  One time, I just ordered a book for her and had it sent.  Every day it looks different.  

And some days, I fail and am too busy looking inside myself to do more than survive my day.  

But, even if I only reached out to 1 person each week, that would be over 50 for the year.  And if YOU reached out to 1 person per week, that would make over 100.  And if we each invited a friend to do it with us, that's over 400.  And we could go on and on here... 

But it all starts with ME being willing to reach out...

Consistently Consistent

I don't often allow myself to dream and create a bunch of new year's resolutions, but I love the idea of a Word for the Year.  In fact, the last 2 years, I've created a project for other families to come up with their word and it's been a hit.

But it's harder for me to find one of my own.  The word that typically comes up over and over is not the word I want.  There have been years when I've tried to change it to what I wish it was (like the year I wanted whimsy to be my word) and it's been like trying to make a round peg go into a square hole--it will work, but it wobbles around and just doesn't fit (I mean, seriously...whimsy is not a word I would ever even say, let alone model my life after--no matter how cool it is).

The word that kept coming to mind this year was "CONSISTENT."  Blah.  Such a boring word.  I tried to find others in the thesaurus that would mean the same thing and most of them were just as dull: dependable, uniform, steady, expected...

And I argued that this really wasn't my year to be consistent--I mean it started off with my schedule all out of whack and dealing with my dad's death and the grief that comes over me at inconsistent time.  I changed jobs. I have teenage daughters. Brian's job is feast or famine.  There's really not a lot of consistent things in my life.

But the word won't go away (which is why I'm finally posting about it in June).  It's come to mind even more the last few weeks as I've tried to get into a rhythm of exercise.  I want the excitement of boxing or noticeable weight loss, but those are not really part of my program right now.  Putting one foot in front of the other and walking a mile and a half in the morning is.  Convincing myself to get out of bed when the sun is just peaking out and putting on my tennis shoes instead of curling up with a book is.

And I still don't love it.  The exercise or the word.

But, they are both right.

I'd like to think that one day, both will bring me joy, but I'm not confident in that dream.  It may be one that I see down the road in my rearview mirror. I want to have this great "AH HA!" moment that I can share in my memoir of how everything changed.

But I don't think it works like that for most of us. 

I think it's the simple choices we make every day to do the next right thing.  The choices that change us in small, unnoticeable ways.  The ones we make while we're trying to get to the ones we think will make a drastic difference. 

Do You Feel Loved?

Heavy title for a blog post, huh? 

I turned 46 yesterday--which I was dreading (and not just because I'm now officially closer to 50 than 40).  This is my first birthday without my dad.  I woke up early and looked through my "on this day" on facebook and he was my most consistent birthday-poster.  The last few years he posted a pic of me that I absolutely hated and kept trying to figure out how to tell him that.  While seeing it yesterday in the memories didn't make me sad that it wouldn't be out there this time, it did make me wish I had him speaking into me again--reading the words he wrote over the years made me cry (I KNOW--that's a shocker since I NEVER cry!  Sheesh!).

My dad was always telling me I didn't give myself enough credit.  He would tell me to stand tall and not feel like I need to apologize all the time.  What's ironic is that I always thought he was critical of me and that I never measured up to what he was hoping I'd be. 

Since his death, I've realized those words I heard were not his--they were mine.  I know now that he truly DID mean it when he told me I was kind and beautiful and loving.  He wasn't just saying it to make me feel better about myself because he was disappointed that I wasn't living up to my potential.

I see this same thing in my daughter.  I see her lack of confidence in the amazing-ness of who she is.  I feel the defensiveness as she is looking for the words I'm not saying or reading into my actions because she feels like I'm disappointed. 

Loving ourselves is hard.  I won't get all new-agey on you, but I do feel like we have done a bit a dis-service by insisting we love others first when we don't even know how to do that.  Jesus told us to "love others as we love ourselves."  It's following that command that has gotten our world into the mess it's in with the hate spewing back and forth.   Not the loving others part--the loving them like we love ourselves.  Most of us don't love ourselves.  We feel shame and fear and grief and disappointment when we look at who we are--not love.  If that's how we "love" others, then that's a problem.

I'm not saying we drop everything and only focus on ourselves--that's tipping the scale in the opposite direction.  I'm not even saying go out and buy yourself a new outfit or get a pedicure (ways I've tried to show myself that I love me).  Simply, what words do you believe-- in your head and  in your heart (because we all know, those 2 are often VERY different)?  Do you truly know how to love others?

Do you love you? 

Because until you do, you won't be able to love others well. 

It's the weird things that get me--usually they are small and insignificant. 

I worried that Easter would be hard.  Even though we didn't take any pics of the kids on the stairs like we did most years, I made it through without being incredibly sad all day.  For the first 2 months after my dad died, I would cry almost every Sunday at church during worship.  We sing a lot about death.  And dad's death just feels so final--even though I know it's not.  The thought that Jesus overcame that, and created a way for us to eventually do the same, overwhelms me and makes me experience Him in a totally new and different way. 

Yesterday was the 3 month anniversary of Dad's death.  I made it through the day with minimal tears.  And then I saw a pic on facebook that my Uncle Allen posted of him, my dad and my Uncle Terry. And I lost it.  I took that picture and was in denial that the end was so close as I was snapping it.  I knew my dad wasn't feeling well and even had to be the bad guy for him and tell some family he wasn't up to more people in the house. But, he still looked very alive in that picture and it made me miss him so very much.

And then this morning, I went to get a cup for my orange juice and his old Bugs Bunny cup was on the shelf staring at me.  My Grandma Mary gave it to me many years ago and it mostly just sits in the cabinet.  Today, it made me sob and smile at the same time.  I cried for me and my loss.  I smiled because the cup reminds me of both my dad and Grandma Mary and I know they are together again in heaven. Dad feels no more pain from tumors and Grandma can remember every little thing again.

I still can't seem to form the words to write a post to honor my dad.  It has come easy for me to do this for others, but this one escapes me.  Writing has always been how I process so, even though it's been 3 months, I know I have not processed through all I need to yet.  Maybe I never will.  But I DO hope the words will come eventually so that I can share the depth of love and emotion I have/had for my dad.

Until then, I will continue to be thankful for the tears because they mean that there are good memories there and things to miss.  They mean that my dad left a hole from all the good he did for me and others.  They mean that I realize what I had and didn't take it for granted.