Good-bye, Blogspot!

I haven't gotten a ton of writing done lately because I've been working on ironing out the details of the move from blogspot to wordpress. While the entire site isn't finished yet, I like where it is enough, to go ahead and send you over there for all of my new material!

Good bye, dear blogspot.  You were my first!

Go Ahead, Call Me A Hypocrite

I live in a resort community on the eastern coast of Florida.  It’s a great small town with gorgeous beaches and the beautiful blue waters of the Atlantic.  Consequently, there’s loads of money here.  Old money, new money, lots and lots and lots of money.  

There is also no money.  Money and no money are quite literally divided by a set of train tracks here, the Florida East Coast Railway that runs parallel with US down the east coast of Florida.

I work with no money, but I worship and play with money.  I witness the great divide of the haves and have nots on a daily basis.  Often, I am unsettled about the world I live in, compared to the world I work in.  I try to take the feelings of shame of having what I need and most of what I want and counterbalance them with as much gratitude as I can offer up.  So far, that's the best solution I can come up with as I've never felt God's call to give it all up and move to a third world country.   

Generally, that does the trick, but when I pulled into a church parking lot last Friday evening at 5 o’clock to prepare for a dinner Habitat was hosting there, and saw the pastor and his co-pastor wife getting into there very gorgeous white BMW, I couldn’t help but pause and question the situation.

It’s the second time I’ve seen it, too.  My previous priest, drove a 2 door convertible Lexus coupe.  I remember the first time I saw him driving up to a church picnic and thinking to myself, “ToTo we’re not in Kansas anymore”.  Turns out that priest had a serious vanity problem. . . and an authenticity problem as it would later be revealed that he was involved in a 17 year relationship with a female priest who was not his wife. He is no longer a priest however, he is now driving that luxury automobile to the homeless shelter that he’s directing.

I am in the process of finding a new church and was considering visiting the church I was at Friday evening.  I’ve been there before and liked it and was considering giving it another try, but honestly, now I’m not so sure.  I've been burned once by an affluent priest.

I know these ministers have worked for many years to be where they are financially, just like the CEO of the local bank.  They have raised their children, likely paid off their mortgages and certainly have the disposable income to drive anything they like.  So why do I struggle with them displaying their level of financial comfort?

I should insert a disclaimer here.  I have a Saab. It is going on 6 years old, but having had newer ones, I will admit that I would probably be driving a newer one if I could afford it. Those with money don’t give THAT generously to Habitat though!  I like a luxury car just as much as the next guy, and generally feel that as long as you’re not over extending yourself for vanity sake, and you like it, then go for it.  

I really have no room to judge them though as I pull up to Habitat every day in a luxury brand and will fully admit to coveting those driving the new E-class Mercedes. Hello, have you seen them?  They’re gorgeous!

Anyway, I digress.  I’m wondering how YOU would feel if you pulled up to church and saw your preacher driving a Mercedes.  Perhaps you have?  Is it wrong? Is it fine?  Please, help me out with this one!  I could be missing a great church over this one!

Ordinary Things

One of my best friends, Melanie, went through a horrible divorce a few years ago.  She found herself ready to forego the rest of her life, for the peace of the after life, one night and prayed as she went to sleep that night that God would take her on with Him while she slept.  She was praying that she would die in the night.  She no longer wanted to face her existence when she awoke the next morning.

Upon her eyes opening that next morning, she was immediately devastated.  She was so sure the night before, that she was going to meet her maker. . . that He would answer her prayer and take her on home with Him.  As she opened her eyes and realized that He didn't answer her prayer, she was overcome with heartbreak from an unanswered prayer.

As she came to terms with the reality, she laid in her bed, sobbing.  Over and over, in her head, she heard God speak to her four simple words, "Go Make The Coffee".  Problem.  She didn't want to go make the freaking coffee.  She wanted to be dead.

Eventually though, she got up and made her way to the coffee pot.  There, she found a peace she had never felt before.  So much peace, that it left a lasting impression, not only on her life, but also in mine. As I have faced my own depressions, I have thought, "go make the coffee".  just go do the next thing.

In today's My Utmost for His Highest Entry, Oswald Chambers writes:  "When the Spirit of God comes to us, He does not give us glorious visions, but He tells us to do the most ordinary things imaginable. . . His inspiration is to do the most natural, simple things-- things we would never have imagined God was in, but as we do them we find Him there."

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT THAT GOD IS IN THE MINUTIA!  We don't have to be on some lofty religious playing field to see and feel what He's doing in our lives!  He's in the little things!!

What little ways do you see and feel God at work?

Where Do I Go From Here?

Something is just not right.  I don't know what it is.  The only way to describe it is that it seems like there is some imbalance between my head and my heart.  It's hard to explain, but it feels as if I'm somehow missing the point.  Like God is either trying to scream at me some truth that I just can't seem to hear, or like He is taking the more subtle approach and letting me figure it out on my own.  Either way, I do not even know what it is about.

It's affecting my writing which scares me the most, since I jumped on this crazy rollercoaster ride, thinking He at the controls.  I feel like I'm just missing the point.  I don't feel like I've found my voice yet nor has a focus for what I'm writing about still hasn't seemed to float to the surface. 

Wordpress is becoming my mortal enemy.  I have no idea why in the world I feel so compelled to use it, but I know that is the next step in the journey, however, after weeks of trying to figure it out, it still doesn't click in my brain.  Last week, I reset my password and now my dashboard is gone.  Honestly, that feels more like the enemy's attack than anything else, because now it is a hurdle I have no idea how to jump so I'll likely put it off a few more weeks.  He found my weak spot and went right for it.

Am I not reading the write book?  Do I need to go to a conference?  What is it? Church has been sucking so I haven't been going.  Leaving my church doesn't seem like the right thing to do right now, so I guess I just need to find another way to get fed during my little sabatical.   I try to feed myself by reading and watching sermons, hoping for some spark of understanding, but it feels like I'm trying to light a candle over and over again and it just won't ignite.

What do you do in situations like this?  Where do I go from here?

Valentine's Day Special

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!  Today, I'm thrilled to be a part of a blogswap with several new and old friends of mine and I'm excited to post a blog about a topic near and dear to my heart written by, new friend, Regina Verow.  When you are done, head on over to www.danacreative.blogspot.com to see my blog for the day!  Hope your day is filled with love!

The Sound of Love

The assignment seems deceptively simple: Write about something you love.  But that isn’t the real assignment.  The assignment is in actuality: Write about something you love and don’t suck, because this is someone else’s blog you’re posting on, missy.

 

So I have to admit off the bat, I’m feeling a little intimated.  But here it goes:

 

I love music.  I LOVE music. Music has been an integral part of my life for nearly forty years. I’ve sung in choirs, choruses and glee clubs. I’ve been in rock bands and folk groups. My high school years were marked by which musical I was rehearsing. I attend concerts and music festivals alone if I don’t have anyone to go with me. I’ve played, with uneven success, piano and guitar. I write music although not as much as I want. I go to a church 40 miles away because their music is THAT much better.

 

Music has the ability to immediately change my emotional state.  I can feel apathetic, angry or depressed and the right song pulls me up out of the fog and points me back in the right direction. I have a theme song (and you should too!). One study shows that music activates the same pleasure centers in the brain as sex does.  If that isn’t a reason to listen to music everyday then I don’t know what is.

 

In middle school I called radio stations with fingers poised over the “record” button on my boom box hoping the DJ wouldn’t talk over the intro to my favorite song. I’ve practiced my guitar until blisters prevented me from holding onto the strings. I’ve traveled huge distances and willingly gave up large amounts of sleep to spend a few precious hours with my favorite bands.

I’ve used music to get through countless late-night college assignments. I’ve sung to my newborn daughters in the middle of the night every song I knew just to get them to sleep. I’ve sped down country roads on late summer nights with the windows down and the radio up.

 

I’ve cried over breakups not only because my heart was broken but because I also lost a man who could make a kick-ass mix tape.

 

Most of us have stories when music saved our lives.  Musicians put into words what our hearts yearn to express whether it is love, despair, or anything in between.

 

Music can make friends of enemies by providing a launching point of common ground. It can take people who’ve never met before and turn them into life-long companions. Music doesn’t care if you are rich or poor, how you dress, or about the color of your skin. Music doesn’t tell you whom to love or what religion to practice. Music is unconditional.  It touches your soul and expects nothing in return.

 

So today I celebrate my love for music.  As journalist Eric Olson once wrote, “Music is what life sounds like.”

 

 

 

Regina Verow is a personal coach, workshop facilitator and author of the blog Creatively Conscious: Aware. Awake. Alive.  You can find out more about Regina at www.reginaverow.com, on her Facebook Page, Creatively Conscious: Aware. Awake. Alive. or follow her on Twitter @reginaverow.

I'm working on a few guest posting gigs so I haven't been able to get much up on here this week, which stinks!  I'm missing the two of you who actually read this drivel! My need for immediate gratification would surely love your feedback on the stuff I'm working on, but it must wait.  Hopefully, we'll all find it worth it.

Just a few nuggets I'm chewing on this morning:

* Super glad I didn't talk trash at the half of last night's Carolina/Duke game.  Refraining wasn't easy, but it's nice not to be eating crow this morning (especially since I wasn't even watching the game).

* I'm supposed to be working on a post about something I'm passionate about finding that one really challenging for some reason.  Perhaps I'm not really passionate about what I'm supposedly passionate about.

* I totally get that Valentine's is overcommercialized and flat out stupid on many different levels.  But is it really all that bad that we have one special day where we recognize and celebrate our relationships that bring so much joy and fulfillment to our lives?  It really doesn't seem so horrible to me.

What nuggets are you chewing on today?

Listen Up

One of the pervasive thoughts I’ve had over the last few months that people just need to be heard.  We, as humans, have an innate need to feel understood and that need is often satiated by having our thoughts and concerns heard.  

One of my perceived weaknesses is being diplomatic in difficult situations.  I can often be too blunt and want to just cut to the chase, but I have recently been seeing how LISTENING can be quite the diplomatic tact and I am starting to really see how it is no coincidence that the word LISTEN contains the same letters as the word SILENT. 


In my work recently, I’ve had several situations where someone came to me completely pissed off at a person or about a situation.  Rather than participating in the conversation, I just listened and as they were winding down, the blather-er had come to one of two conclusions. Either it wasn’t such a big deal OR they suddenly grasped the root of the problem and felt like they could deal with it.  

The vent session enabled them to deal with the problem.  

They get to that conclusion by verbally drawing out all of their opinions and feelings.  Once their thoughts or opinions are out there, the realization comes that it is really not such a big deal or suddenly they can see where the offender was coming from.


So often we just need to vent, in order to process the situation.  Through the processing, we evaluate the scope of the problem and whether or not it is really relevant and/or we diagnose the root of the problem.  With that diagnosis, we can then attack at the root and solve the problem.


We all need someone to vent to although we are generally not stoked about being the one who is being vented to.  It’s certainly  no fun to listen to someone go on and on about a problem but I would encourage you to give this a whirl when you are next faced with an unhappy camper.

Please let me know if you have any of you, too, have seen this in your journeys?  I'm interested in any and all feedback on this one!

Marathon Wrap Up Pt. 3

(Thanks for bearing with me this week as I commandeered the blog for my own purposes of documenting my experience with the half marathon this past weekend.  Truly sorry to those of you who have been bored to tears by it!  This is the LAST post about it!  Pinky swear!)

Since the race, people keep asking me how I did it.  Looking back on it, it wasn't that hard, but I've learned over the years how to manipulate myself into doing things.  The following are a few things I feel like I did right, which ultimately led to me being able to finish the race, with a faster time than I ever would have imagined! (2:16)

1-      Do it with friends- Accountability was everything for me.  The only thing that would get me out of the bed in at the butt crack of dawn, was knowing that someone was meeting me at the park for our runs.  If someone else was investing themselves in the effort, I certainly didn’t want to find myself being the weakest link.

2-      Just sign up for a race- Whether it’s a local 5k or the Miami ING, paying the registration fee invests you in the journey.  You have a commitment on the plate.  Not only to your partner(s) in the process, but to justify the expense.

3-      Make it fun- I sent out an email to every girl I thought *might* be interested in joining me.  We had a little get together on a weeknight where we poured a few glasses of wine, individually registered for the race, planned training schedules, and shared music from our running mixes.  Additionally, we chose to make the entire event fun, by doing it in a fun city, making dinner reservations at a great restaurant and booking a nice hotel.  Making it a little get away weekend, made it so much more fun!  A few weeks before the race, we all got together again at Happy Hour at a local restaurant and solidified our travel plans, reservations, and race day prep. 

4-      Mix up your normal routes- variety is the spice of life!  Keep it interesting.  Run with new people, talk while you do it, learn about what’s going on in their world.  Socialize outside of the runs.  The entire experience can deepen relationships, because you’re sharing a journey!

5-      If you’re the least bit spiritually inclined, I would encourage you to use the time and experience to deepen your faith.  There are going to be runs that SUCK.  There are going to be days when you desperately don’t want to put on your shoes, when you doubt your ability to do it and your sanity.  But incorporating prayer and relying on the strength of the One able to do all things, will intensify your faith.  The morning of the ½ marathon, I had no intention of running the entire distance.  My half assed plan was to run 3 miles, take a walk break, run 3 miles, rinse and repeat until it was over.  But as the race began, I felt a strength like I’d never experienced before and it came from the knowledge that while I hadn’t trained to complete 13 miles, 13 miles was nothing to the One who strengthens me.  I decided to rely on that strength rather than my own, and finished the race without one single walk break, running through water stations gulping sips as best I could and finishing far faster than I’d ever dreamed.  

It ultimately had very little to do with me. 

                    (me with friends Emmee and Ashley as the race began)

Marathon Wrap Up Part 2

She was filing my toe nails when she said the words, I never in my wildest dreams imagined I would hear applying to me.  

“You have runner’s feet”.

Insert record scratch here. Whhhhaaatttt???   “I’m sorry, what did you say?”  She repeated it, and since this was no typical pedicurist, she was perfectly clear in her delivery, and I had, in fact heard her correctly. 

 “You run don’t you?” she said.  

Looking around, realizing she really was directing her question at me, and too that, it actually did apply to me i fumbled for and found  “uh, yeah, i guess, uh yeah, i do.”

I’m pretty sure the sun was shining inside my soul as I processed what she had just said.  I literally felt my chest puffing out and my head becoming three times larger than it's normal circumference.

Four months into training for a half marathon there was there it was.  Physical proof, that I can now add a healthy new hobby to my list that also includes cooking and eating, a lot. I am a runner.

You see, for the first 10 or so years of adulthood, I was pretty lazy. I certainly considered myself lazy, and  I even became pretty overweight at one point.  Fortunately, by the grace of God II realized it pretty quickly and somehow managed to get it off.   Regular exercise, however, wasn't part of the equation.

I began “jogging” when I moved down here five years ago. Inspired by such beautiful surroundings and with more time on my hands, I found that I did enjoy it. On occasion. But generally it was never more than 2 or 3 miles and never with any regularity or accountability.  If I was feeling a little thick, i made time for a few runs and cut back on my food intake a little bit until I started to feel better about myself.  

A year ago or so though, when saying I never imagined myself actually doing a race, one of my friends challenged me just to sign up for a race.  I heard her words ringing in my ears for months, “if you sign up for it, you will train for it” and eventually bit the bullet.

Sure enough she was right.  Apparently, I have a thing for that “go big or go home” mentality though, and I skipped right over local 5k’s or small 10k’s and went right for the big daddy Miami ING Half Marathon. 

After months of training, and anticipation, I completed the race and have lived to tell about it, so, in an effort to encourage others of you who have that same little desire niggling in the back of your brain about wanting to start running or completing a race, tomorrow i'll bring you a fresh list of how I went from feeling like a fatty patty to runner’s feet in 5 steps or less!

To have it directly sent to to your email when it’s posted, click on the rss feed button to subscribe to my blog on the right hand side of the page!  

I'll show you how you, too, can be sportin’ a medal before you know it!

Marathon Wrap Up Pt. 1

It’s now a couple days after my first half marathon and I’m still trying to process the experience.  From lining up in a sea of 21,000 people (and tripping over one or two of them), to the pain in my left foot that continues to annoy me two days later, I am so thankful to say that it was one of the most profound experiences of my life.  After 6 months of training, a shit ton of money spent on gu’s, shoes and a weekend in Miami, I’m completely and utterly grateful that the experience actually ended up being meaningful.

It made a lasting impact in several ways. When the race began, I thought, "only one/twenty-onethousandth of this is about me". However, as the race started I soon realized it was all about me.  As I was training and prepping for the race, people kept asking me what charity I was running for. My mom even asked me just the week before.


My response: "me".

Surely that sounded selfish, but while I was running, somewhere around mile 5, while feeling a little selfish about the whole thing as I’m passing (yes, i said it) men pushing kids in wheel chairs and others on cancer fighting missions, it occurred to me that this selfish investment will (hopefully) make me a greater asset to my family and community around me.  


Several months ago, Perry Noble wrote a blog about paying the price for being a leader.  While running this thing wasn’t about leadership for me, rather about personal development,  I believe there is also value and honor in paying a price for growth.  If you’re not willing to invest in yourself, why would anyone else be?  When I wrote the checks for Blogrocket  and Tentblogger it was out of the same mindset, that any cost that gets you closer to the goal, is worth it. I want to be a writer. . .that takes time AND money. I want to be a better me . . .that takes time AND money. It takes money, to make money.


A word of caution though. You have to be cautious that whatever activity it is that you choose to invest in, will truly have a long term impact.  If you use this approach just to validate a desire saying, the money and time I am investing on this trip or hobby, will make me a better a person, you could very well be wasting the resources God has given you, if in fact it doesn’t take you out of your comfort zone.


It is outside of our neat and tidy little boxes, that we grow.  Where we change.  Where we become the individuals God has called us to be, rather than the robot the world expects us to be.  It is in those last two miles, where everything hurts and burns, when you’re leaning only on God and not on your own strength or ability, that you realize that without Him, you are nothing.  That there is no way on His gorgeous green earth, that you could do this of your own accord, and that without pain there would be no reward.


to God be the glory, great things he hath done, IN me.

Last Run Done. . . oh wait, there's still 13 more to go. . .

Ok, the ½ marathon I’ve been training for is this Sunday.  Am I ready?  Hell no.    

I’m not exactly where I was hoping to be training wise.  The holidays and a new (old) relationship threw a wrench into my training schedule, so I’m trying to tell myself that it’s the journey not the destination that really matters.

I’ve learned a lot while doing this and most importantly I feel as though I’ve shed an old skin.  The old skin was the one I wore up until I turned 30 which coincided with my world collapsing and one that has taken me the better part of four years to strip off.   It was cloaked in self doubt and worthlessness and disabled me from becoming the woman God intended me to be.  

While I’m still not where I ultimately want to be, I’m thankful that particular wardrobe no longer hangs in my closet.  I now understand that anything worth doing is worth doing well, that immediate gratification is for weenies and that the sense of pride and accomplishment that goes along with completing a goal is worth the blisters, soreness and exhaustion that accompanies 5 a.m. runs.  

It doesn’t matter what my final time is, nor if I take a few walk breaks.  What matters is that set out on a journey to train for and complete a half marathon 6 months ago, and in only a few short days from now, it will be history.  

What matters is all that God has shown me and given me (some really amazing friendships) and taught me during the process. It's definitely been a journey, and I'm still afraid of it, but I'm grateful to know that it's not been ability that has brought me this far, but simply God's grace.  It's not my skill or talent that will get me through the race Sunday but a strength that far outweighs my own, that currently seems like the greatest gift of all!

Hey, Big Guy? Can you hear me now?

A line in Jon Acuff’s blog yesterday really resonated with me.  He was discussing the finer points of “making things happen” ahead of God’s time line when he said that he’d jumped into a career move after praying about it for zero minutes. 

Whoa.  How many times have I done the same thing? 

What am I trying to make happen now without praying for one minute about?  Just yesterday, I spent a good couple of hours searching on the internet for immediate answers to one of those items . . . trying to make something happen.  How much sweeter will it be though, when, after diligent prayer, I see God PROVIDE those answers without me lifting a finger?

As I thought about this, I pulled out my handy dandy lil netbook and jotted down a list of 4 decisions that are weighing on my heart at the moment. As I strive to be more intentional in 2011, it seemed a logical step and I hope to see a few benefits.

For starters, I want to be focused in prayer on them, so for me, getting them out of my head and on to virtual paper helps me be deliberate about them.   I can refer to them when I have a few minutes here and there to pray.  Also, having a short list of 4, means that if I’m driving along in my car, I can remember the 4 and blurt out some thoughts (prayers).

Furthermore, as God reveals the answers to those prayers, I can revert back to them, in their written form, write more about them and see what God has done.  Doing so should give me faith in the future as I move on from those four and make new lists.

I really want to see God move here.  He is God. I am Lindsey.  He moves, I follow. 

Not the other way around. . . I move, He follows?  Uhm, no.  Clearly, that's not how it works.  I've tried it in the past.  Have you?

Clean Up On Aisle 6

Do you ever find yourself cleaning up another person's mess?  Jeff and I spent much of Sunday afternoon, paint brushes in hand, doing exactly that.

It’s hard not to bitch and moan about it, when you’re in the heat of it. When you’re spending your blessed Sunday afternoon, repeating a job that has already been done.   I really think it’s only human to find fault with the situation.

I’ve been thinking about it this morning, looking at the drawers that clearly don’t match, and wondering what in the hell the guy was thinking when he put them in?  Did he plan to paint them? Was he just being lazy? Perhaps he was simply color blind. 

Whatever the reason, as I was about to load up the old primer bucket and get to work I was trying to think if there is a way to find honor in it; trying to come up with some way to change my attitude about it.

My time and energy going into this project certainly are not a blessing to the old owner, he’s long gone and certainly never thinks for a moment about the jobs he left undone.  So, where should I set my mind, as I set about cleaning up his messes?

Only one thing came to mind.  How many messes does my Jesus, have to clean up for me?  And, how many times have I moved on from the offense, never to look back, while he’s back there loading up the proverbial primer bucket? Touche'.

Name That Blog!!

By the end of the month, my goal is to have www.lindseygoodall.com up and running and to have all of this jazz moved over there..  It is a wordpress page, and I have paid for, downloaded and uploaded my preferred theme.  I just need to make the move the official move over there.  Sadly, this little blogspot home I’ve found here, is quite cozy and I’m a wee bit distressed about making the move but I'm excited about taking the next step into my making my dream of full time writing a reality.

There are a few reasons for my pout about doing it though.  The first being that wordpress  makes me feel like a dumbass.  Like driving off from the gas station without paying for your gas, dumb.   Wait, that hasn't happened since the Pay Before You Pump revolution, but I suspect all of you are old enough to remember that feeling. Anywho, I have full faith that at some point I’ll master it and call it my bitch, but until then, every time I close out of it, I’m left feeling like a complete and utter moron.  I will press on however.

Secondly, I feel like a name change is on the horizon.  As my blog coach, so eloquently defined what I was already feeling/thinking about it, there is a disconnect between the title and the content. I have to admit that hearing that did evoke some sadness on my part, because SFD had the "wow" factor AND it resonated with me personally.

Sh*t, F*ck, D*mn was perfect for a season Being able to put it all out there provided the no holds barred approach I needed to get myself headed in the right direction with blogging. Every time I open the page, I feel like I can say whatever is on my mind, that this is my platform, for me, by me, with love.

Here is where you come in.  I need help coming up with a name.  Sh*t, F*ck, Damn, rattled around in my brain for months before I finally jumped in and did it.  Jeff and I have brainstormed a few times and the best we’ve got is “I saw God today”.  While, that title is sort of what I ultimately want the blog to be about; how I most recently saw or felt God moving, it is simply not irreverent enough!

I don’t want it to be “religious”. I want it to be real. 

Any ideas?  Something slightly cheeky, but with a faithful undertone is what I’m looking for.  While you work on that, I’ll work on strengthening my relationship with Wordpress in an effort to bring you the official launch of www.lindseygoodall.com!


So, show me what you've got!   You are all FAR more creative than me, so give it your best shot by leaving a comment below.  The winner will get some super tremendous prize, selected by me, from me, with love! xoxo

Look Up

I want to share with you all  the devotion that I read this morning, January 24^th, from Sarah Young’s Jesus Calling.  If you’ve ever wanted a daily devotional, I would highly recommend it, as it's not heady or weighty.   It was given to me for Christmas by a dear a friend and it’s literally like starting each and every day with a bear hug from the one that made you. 

                “MY PEACE is the treasure of treasures: the pearl of great price.  It is an exquisitely costly gift, both for the Giver and the receiver.  I purchased this  Peace for you with my blood.  You receive this gift by trusting Me in the midst of life’s storms.  If you have the world’s peace—everything going your way—you don’t seek MY unfathomable Peace.  Thank Me when things do not go your way, because spiritual blessings come wrapped in trials.  Adverse circumstances are normal in a fallen world.  Expect them each day.  Rejoice in the face of hardship, for I have overcome the world.”

In my last post, I wrote about how much I cherish my Mondays.  How sometimes I feel as though I live for Mondays.  This Monday is no different, and after a week of running to and fro, all over the planet it seemed, I awoke this morning with no place to be and nothing to do.  Hallelujah.

As I turned to today’s page and saw that the first two words were “MY PEACE”, it felt like that big old bear hug from Jesus that I have been longing for this week.  But as I read, thanking Him in my head for answering my prayers for the quiet and peaceful day that is stretched out before me, I was reminded of a conversation I recently had with my Aunt.

As we prepared our holiday plans, we were trying how to fit together the pieces of a broken family.  We were both longing for the days when once it seemed, everyone happily and willingly showed up to my grandmother’s each and every holiday,  to enjoy the feast and the fellowship.  With that no longer as easy as it once was, she said, “Lindsey, I so wish this could just be easy and not so hard.”  In one of those divine moments of inspiration, I retorted, “but then we would never have to look up.”

I can honestly say now that I’m grateful for the hardships in my life that force me to just stop and say, “You’re in control of this, not me”.  Moreover, I’m beyond grateful, that there is someone up above to look up to, when life throws a few lemons in my direction. But most of all, I'm always, always touched by the peace that overwhelms me when I mutter those words.

A case of the Mondays

I had a plan of how it was supposed to go.  Like we all, often do.

However, a slight little change in plans set me completely off course.  I didn't even take the much needed shower.  While it was a completely welcomed surprise that set me off course, by the end of the day, i felt as thought I would never get back my momentum.  I learned a lesson though, which is I guess what really matters; the lesson being to NEVER set about my getting my chores done before getting down and dirty with God in a little QT and before I get my writing goals met, on a Monday.

It started out like any other Monday.  Well, any other Monday for me, is not like any other Monday for you.  I LOVE Monday.  I LIVE FOR Monday. I look forward to Monday, like you look forward to Friday.  Monday is all about ME day.  And, all about Jesus day.  All about me and Jesus day.  Ah.

The past few months, since this writing journey began, Mondays have really become the one day when I can sit in the still and focus on where God is telling me to go with this thing.  I can shut everything else out (except how much I love Mondays) and listen to what he's telling me to write and get down to the business of doing it.

Last week, half of my parents were in town and I had several meetings and other obligations, so I knew my Monday was shot, but went with it, feeling like I was sacrificing my Monday for the greater good.  While I did, very much miss it, I kept thinking, "it's ok.  Next Monday is just around the corner'.

It doesn't rain much in Florida.  Not like it does in other parts of the world, where the rain just sets in for the day or days on end.  We get plenty of showers, but not so many rainy days.  When I realized that yesterday was forecasted to be a really rainy day,  I decided I better alter my preferred Monday schedule a bit, running the errands first thing before the rain set in, rather than spending the morning with God and writing.  I figured I would knock out the my errands and my chores before lunch an as soon as lunch was over, I would be able to cozy on the couch and get down to business, and thereby making the most out of my rainy day.

While something horrible could have happened to derail my plans, it was a truly unexpected and pleasant surprise that set me off course.  Jeff came home from work after lunch with no plan of returning to the office for the afternoon!  Now, please don't get me wrong (especially, you babe!), I was THRILLED to have the afternoon with him!  We've been running a thousand miles an hour the last week, many times in opposite directions, and I was over the moon that he'd busted his ass that morning at work so we could have the afternoon together.  Truly, it was a great treat!

By supper time, I was in a funk.  I had worked all day, doing chores, running errands and cooking but hadn't gotten to the "work" I so desperately needed and wanted to do.  I had completely lost another Monday.  Two weeks in a row.  I needed some Jesus, I needed to write, I needed not to fail at completing my goals. 

Here's your sign, Linds.  Satan, you mother f*cker, stealer of all joy and peace, thanks for taking away a perfectly wonderful surprise and using it to jump start my week with an extra jolt of exhaustion and a pervasive sense of failure.

At this point, you're probably thinking, "why am I reading this?"  Hell, I'm certainly sitting here thinking, "why am I writing this?"  The point is (hallelujah, we've made it to the bottom line), is that while I sit here exhausted, terrified of the busy week that spans before me like a Jordan crossing to get to next Monday, I KNOW that God will use this shitty little experience.  I know that he will take my heavy eyelids and pry them open and help me get it all done.  Who knows what he's going to do in me and through me this week, but I know it's going to be good.

I know he'll pull me out of the funk, see to it that I get some rest, make a few moments, like these, for me to get some writing done, and that by Him, through Him and with Him, I can get it all done and live to see another Monday.

Update:  It's now 8:25 p.m. and I made it through the day, which 13 hours before, I wondered how I would ever survive.    While it wasn't easy, God granted me peace and courage to keep busy and keep on task and I'm so grateful.  

I had a work event tonight, which are never really any fun, but tonight while speaking to a group I felt God infusing me with his patience to complete my duties to the best of my ability. To God be the glory, great things he hath done. 

God is good. All the time. God is good.

What a morning!  After snoozing the 3 set alarms on my iphone (set to the most horrendous ringer in the world), and snoozing each one of them 3 times, and spending those 15 minutes deciding whether or not to hit the gym, go downstairs and write or go back to sleep, I finally talked myself into getting my lazy hiney to the gym. 

While pounding out 5 miles on that damn treadmill, I was again overcome by the awareness that I can do absolutely ANYTHING I set my mind to and moreover THAT YOU CAN TOO.  Setting the bar a little bit higher, each time I run by myself, often leaves me with a feeling of accomplishment that I wish I could bottle up and share with you.  We’ve all heard that we can do anything through Christ who strengthens us (Phil. 4:13) but have we truly experienced that?  Have we put it all out there on the line saying, “God there is no way, I can physically, emotionally, spiritually (whatever) accomplish this task, but I believe you will fill me with your strength to do it”?  And have we continued on to complete the task, watching his strength and love ooze from our sweaty pores?

After running back home and quickly getting ready for work and a quick trip by the bank to grab my weekly allowance, I was thrilled with myself at what all I had accomplished in the few short hours since those damn alarms started going off.  As a reward for all of my hard work and dedication, I decided to run into 7-eleven to grab one of my favorite breakfast treats.

Sadly, they were out of cheese Danishes (holla if you love them like I do), so I begrudgingly made my way over to the consolation prize: Muscle Milk.  I was totally bitching about the fact that I was about to spend $4 on a “healthy” drink when the “unhealthy” cheese Danish would have only cost me $1.49, when I recognized that the man in front of me to check out, was paying for his gallon of water in pennies and dimes.

WHOA. Here I am, blessed beyond belief, to have $4 to spend on 16 ounces of pure protein and I’m bitching about it? 

I remembered the $50 bill in my wallet (given to me by a gatherer), and as I walked to my car, noticing the same clean cut fellow sitting in the driver seat of a local heating and air company’s van, I also remembered that look of anxiety on his face as he waited, hoping he’d handed the clerk enough, as she counted out his payment for a gallon of spring water.

I can easily tell you that the greatest blessing of my week was knocking on the window of his van and mumbling something about “I know this weird but it’s sort of a random act of kindness thing. . .  but anyway, here’s some money for you”. 

God is good. All the Time. God is Good.  Not only did He strengthen me to meet my own needs this morning, but He also provisioned me to help meet the need of another.

"Do for one person what you wish you could do for everyone." ~ Andy Stanley

Friends in High Places

I want to take a minute this morning to introduce you all to direct you to the blogs of two of my dear friends Gil Gonzalez and Lee Sullivan.  They are just returning from the heaven that is better known as "The Rock Boat", the original floating music festival put on by the one and only, Sixthman.

While I've never had the good fortune of attending The Rock Boat, I've had the good fortune of attending several "sister events" and love living vicariously each year as my friends return sharing their stories of fun, sun, music and mayhem. This year is no different and I know that while I should be doing something productive, much of the next few days will be spent filing through scores of pictures and watching new TRB youtube videos.

Gil and Lee are both participating in a 30 day writing challenge, so upon their return from the cruise last night, they both blogged about it and I couldn't be happier to know that they both found God on a cruise that has been deemed "Spring Break for Grown Adults".  I have no doubt he was rocking his face off to NEEDTOBREATHE.

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Comments

Happy Saturday morning to you all!

I'm hearing from several of you that you haven't been able to leave comments.  As I'm one who does appreciate a little gratification from time to time, I really hate to be missing them!  I have all the settings in place for anyone to leave a message at any time, and I've double and even triple checked to make sure that all comments are enabled so if you could help me figure out the problem, I'd be indebted! 

As you attempt to leave a comment, make sure you choose an identity (even if it's anonymous) after typing your post.  Then click on "Publish Your Comment".  If you've followed those steps and are getting an error message please let me know (lpgoodall@gmail.com) what it is and I'll continue the hunt for the root of the problem!

I hope it's a really great weekend for you all, whether your on the beach or bundled up in the warmth of a cozy fire!