It is final exam week here in Korea. Students are traveling to take exams, wearing masks, and, of course, talking to friends. It's absolutely breath-taking outside but hardly anyone has stopped to notice because they are too busy studying.

I have been extremely busy with grading. But I had an encounter that was a highlight this week. 

I was watching a rather aggressive young Korean man talk to a black woman from the U.K.. I was just starting to notice that their interaction (the man) was rather loud. He was explaining something and was rather animated. And then I recognized him.

It was a student from my Screen English class a few semesters ago. I said, "I remember you!"

He looked at me, and then his eyes lit up. "I really enjoyed Screen English Class and I still meet members of my group!" 

He was referring to the group that he had worked with that semester and the final project. They had changed the ending of the movie Dead Poets Society. The students have to think through romanticism and write it into their scripts and then perform it in class or as a short video clip.  

"I appreciate that. For that class, I don't have to follow the rules." I was referring to the fact that I had complete freedom to design that class the way I wanted. I had also just had a less than pleasant conversation with administration about the rules that needed to followed for other classes. Rules that I genuinely believe are not fair on the students. And then the black woman spoke up.

"He means that! I know he does not like studying." She proceeded to move him and herself over toward my car while I processed what she had said.

The three of us chatted beside my car for a few minutes. We then said our goodbyes and I got in my car.

The whole encounter got me thinking about the story of Jesus healing ten men with leprosy. He tells them to show themselves to the priests. Only one man, a Samaritan, comes back and thanks him. 

Jesus asked, "Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?" Then he said to him, "Rise and go; your faith has made you well." Luke 17:17-19

I have often been frustrated with teaching because I am never sure if they learned anything. I am also left wondering if all the work that I put into teaching makes any difference. 

This young, aggressive, Korean man had given me some appreciated feedback. He represented the Samaritan in the story. He didn't exactly come back and say thank you, but the encounter was one that I appreciated and needed on exam week. 

His aggressiveness marked him as different. I remembered that I had spent more than a little time deflecting his opinions and helping his group members get used to his blunt ways. He was definitely not an easy student. 

There are students who behave well in class, are quiet when you need them to be quiet, and speak up when you want them to speak up. It's an English miracle that even happens with the way the education system works in Korea. 

And maybe there are more miracles out there...

For all of you who feel frustrated with your work, I just want to let you know that there is at least 10% you have helped. 10% were changed. I don't know if they came back and said thank you, but you changed them. What you do matters. 

​And all of this was just in time for summer session which begins next week...

I encountered this message earlier this week: This is as good as it gets.

It did get me thinking. 

The kids are starting to go back to school.

My husband is starting to work regular hours.

I am finishing classes in the next few weeks at the university I teach at.

For me, things are getting better.

I looked at the art work again. 

It  depicted a somber looking male face that might have been the artist's hasty self-portrait, or a stylized Christ, or even Che Guevara for all I know.

The image was hard to decipher, but the message wasn't; the artist's bleak outlook was crystal clear.

No better days ahead.

Nothing to look forward to.

No cause for wonder, and certainly none for worship.  
 
Even though I know better, the words made me sad.

Not that they might be true, but that someone --anyone--might think so. Because it's going to get a lot better than this.  My life is improving. Why not this person?
 
I'm not sure what your present circumstances might be...these days the odds are better-than-average they are discouraging.

Daunting, even.

This Virus.

Life in general. 

Maybe sickness or death or unemployment or bankruptcy or a broken marriage or a wrecked business or a wayward child--or something I can't imagine--consumes your every waking thought.

And maybe it's tempting to believe that nothing will ever change, that there is no hope left, and that you have nothing to long for, dream of, pray for.

Maybe the voice of the enemy is whispering despair in your ear, telling you that it's time to give up, that hope is absurd, and that tomorrow is sure to bring nothing but more of the same.
 
But that voice is lying. There is hope in the world. 

Hope lives!
 
Nearly 2000 years ago a band of followers of a Nazarene teacher came to see him for who he really was: God.

God in flesh, God in person, God who, as Eugene Peterson said, "moved into the neighborhood."

He lived and died before his followers' eyes.

And He kept showing up, raised somehow and amazingly new, even with his scars.  

"Wait in Jerusalem" he told them before he died, "for the gift that was promised to you."

Some of them were probably so confused and frightened they just wanted to go home to business-as-usual, whatever that business might be.

Others were itching to move up, for a political coup.

Some for a prominent place in a new movement. Surely there was one, or even a few, who had decided "This is as good as it gets."
 
It wasn't.
 
The one who died for them would keep on living--and he had big plans in mind that involved them.

But first he filled their tiny waiting room with a blazing hurricane of  the Holy Spirit's presence.

Then, and only then, they had what they would need to turn the world upside down on their Lord's behalf.  
 
But even that mighty gift was not as good as it gets.
 
One day, Christ will come again and make all things new...even us.

He will defeat his arch enemy once-for-all, administer perfect justice, and reign forever.

He will undo the curse and he will undo this virus!

He will reward his servants.

He will usher in a new heaven and a new earth.

His rightful, beautiful, perfect kingdom will have no end.
 
And that, my graffiti-splashing doom-sayer, will truly be as good as it gets.

​Forever.
 
No one's ever seen or heard anything like this, never so much as imagined anything quite like it - what God has arranged for those who love Him. (I Corinthians 2:9, The Message.)  
​
And every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the father. (Philippians 2:11, ESV)   
 

It is amazing how God meets us where we are. It is the beautiful, hope-giving reality of grace. 

In my life, God has given some things away. He is making room for other things to grow. I was talking to someone just yesterday morning about all the ideas I am having right now. I am so excited about this book, Fifty Sermons for Children, that is is coming up. And God is blessing me with other ideas for teaching, blogging, and blogging. 

It has not been easy to get here. There has been much to get through. And it reminds me of Jesus' response to Peter after Peter denied him three times.

"When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, 'Simon, son of John do you love me more than these?' He said to him, 'Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.'" He said to him, 'Feed my lambs.'"

"He said to him a second time, 'Simon, son of John, do you love me?' He said to him, 'Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.' He said to him, 'Tend my sheep.'"

"He said to him a third time, 'Simon, son of John, do you love me?' Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, 'Do you love me?' and he said to him, 'Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.' Jesus said to him, 'Feed my sheep. Truly, truly I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.' (This he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God.) And after saying this he said, 'Follow me.'
John 21: 15-19

If there is someone on whom you would expect Jesus to turn his back to forever, it would be Peter. How could he deny Jesus, even after being warned? Wasn't that unforgivable? Apparently not. 

What Peter did was not a picture of the defeat of the cross. The opposite is true.

Peter's denial is a shocking concrete picture of the essentiality of the cross of Christ.

The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus were necessary because we are people like Peter.

We have no power in ourselves to be faithful, wise, good, or righteous. We cannot save ourselves, We are people in need of rescue, grace. Without the rescue of grace, we are a danger to ourselves and to others, without hope and without God.

In amazing condescending grace, God meets us where we are, just as he did with Peter.

He comes to us in our fear.

He draws near to us when we are separated.

He meets us in our doubt.

He pursues us when we wander.

When we sin, he comes to us with conviction and forgiveness.

There is no way to earn it or deserve it or bring it about anymore than you can deserve the taste of raspberries and cream or earn good looks or bring about your own birth.

He empowers us when we are weak. 

He restores us when we are unfaithful. 

When we deny him, he does not deny us. 

He comes to us at the moment of our salvation, and comes to us again and again as we journey from the "already" to the "not yet".

He sits down with us, assuring us again of his love, drawing out from us his love for him, and sending us on our way to do the work he has chosen us to do. 

He does not wait for us to come to him; he comes to us.

It is the way of grace.

A good sleep is grace and so are good dreams.

Most tears are grace.

The smell of rain is grace.

Somebody loving you is grace. Loving somebody is grace. 

Like the many leaves that adorn the ground, so are the bits and pieces of grace. 

How much more did God's grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many!
Romans 5: 15

God's grace says, "Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are. The party is not complete without your. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe. I love you."

The thought I have been home with my children for the past two weeks and it has been good. We have played, we have engaged, we have read, we have written, and we have done all kinds of things to keep everyone busy! We have yelled, we have hugged, we have enjoyed each other's company, and we have fellowship with Him! God is there in the midst of everything. 

I have a bit of an outlet with this blog. I can get on the computer at any time and write. God is there in the midst of this too.

With that said, I am willing to admit to the world that homeschooling has got to be the hardest thing in the world to do well. I feel like I am surviving. I am reading water. I want so much to bless my children but it is so hard.

This morning was a case in point. I was the first one out of bed and it was 8:00 am! We went to bed early. I had intentions of getting up around 7 but it just didn't happen. 

The other case in point is the morning Bible reading. I had intentions of blessing the boys with a Bible reading this morning. I wanted them to eat their breakfast and listen to the story of how much God loves them. The thought was food for the bodies and food for their souls. They barely listen to the Jesus Storybook Bible or to Thoughts to Make Your Heart Sing. I keep hoping for a slightly longer interaction! 

Another case in point in screen time. They are constantly wanting screens, and it is a constantly battle to get them off of the screens. As I write this, my youngest is in the kitchen, playing on my phone. He enjoys Youtube videos! LOL!  Lord help me with this!

I do get them to do a little bit of handwriting and write in a journal everyday. They don't really like it. I hope they will see the merit in it someday. Small things build character. I really am interested in building up the character of my children.

We went swimming today down at the reservoir. There are free pools available from 9 to 5, so we went down after lunch. It was so good to splash in the water for an hour and a half! They were happy to play. The boys found a couple of friends to play volleyball with. The pools are a God-send!

So what do other people with their children during the holidays? My other question is what do homeschooling Moms do to keep their children busy and happy? Are there lessons and activities all day? Are there moments when you through up your hands and say, "I know you're bored! Find something to do!"

I just want to say that I admire you homeschooling Moms.

You have taken the hardest job on earth and you have added teaching to it! God bless you!

You serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner. God bless you!

You plan lessons for your children. God bless you!

You tolerate artistic messes in your home. God bless you!

You slow down to enjoy your children. God bless you!

You encourage them to read when they are bored. God bless you!

You encourage them to find something to do when they are bored. God bless you!

You let them capture than bug and encourage them to let it go. God bless you!

You let them listen to Mozart and Beethoven and hope it inspires. God bless you!
​
You stop and smell the flower that your youngest brought to you. God bless you!

You tuck them in at night with a good night kiss and hug. God bless you!

And you fall into bed exhausted from the activities of the day. Tomorrow you will wake up and repeat it all again. God bless you!

I will be in a better mood when there is a change in the weather (it's 35 degrees as we speak!), but for now I would like to say kudos to you! You are amazing! You are doing the hardest job on earth! 

​I admire and love what you do!

Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it. Proverbs 22:6

Over the weekend, I heard about another beautiful person who passed away. I saw a notice on Facebook on Friday about Rachel Held Evans. I know she had the flu and I knew that there were complications from a medication she took to treat a routine UTI. I had watched and read as a prayer community had developed online in response to a coma she had been in. I don't know why I wasn't prepared for that news.

This is the third death from this year. The first was a wonderful teacher who had been central to the KOTESOL community here in Korea. She committed suicide, leaving many people mystified and confused, but it has brought up a discussion on how people living overseas deal with depression. The second was the father of a Sunday School teacher. He died well. That funeral was a beautiful celebration of a life devoted to God and family. 

In the midst of news about Rachel Held Evans, I am thinking deeply about salvation, sanctification, reflection, and how everything revolves around story. Our lives and our legacies revolve around story. We want to live in such a way that the story of Christ's saving grace is told through us. 

I think Rachel did that. A big part of her writings, her story, is her critique on modern day evangelicalism. She was reflective, opinionated, and critical. She was a faithful doubter and became a leader as a result.

The Atlantic wrote an article about her death. These next two paragraphs appear there as well as here in my thoughts.

“Death is a thing empires worry about, not a thing resurrection people worry about,” she told me in 2015. “As long as there’s somebody baptizing sinners, breaking the bread, drinking the wine; as long as there’s people confessing their sins, healing, walking with one another through suffering, then the Church is alive, and it’s well.” The lasting legacy of Evans’s writing, and of her public life, is her unwillingness to cede ownership of Christianity to its traditional conservative-male stewards—her unwillingness to give up on Christianity, period. 

Evans did not lead a denomination or a movement or even a church, but she did invite people to come along as she worked through her relationship with Jesus. Her very public, vulnerable exploration of a faith forged in doubt empowered a ragtag band of writers, pastors, and teachers to claim their rightful place as Christians. Evans spent her life trying to follow an itinerant preacher and carpenter, who also hung out with rejects and oddballs. In death, as that preacher once promised, she will be known by her fruits.

She has a legacy. She leaves behind family and community with her early death. Her story matters to us. Christ's death and resurrection is told in her story. She refused to give up on it.

Your story matters. My story matters. All of these stories matter. Stories open up paths of vision that weren't there before. Mitzi Kaufman opened up a discussion on how to deal with depression. The father of the Sunday School teacher, 'Teacher Yang', had me reflecting on legacy and vision for this mother, wife, teacher, writer, and pastor on what I need to focus on. Rachel Held Evans' death continues this this reflection on what is important. Her death and all these stores are about legacy. Her's reflected the fruit of the Spirit and not giving up on Christianity.  

It's all beautiful, and the stories need to be told. Why don't we start with the big one?

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. 
John 3:16 ESV

Let's tell our stories to each other in every way possible. Our words reflect back to the living Word of God. Let's story in person, on the page, over email and through social media. Let's tell our stories. 

​I have been reading through the gospels about the crucifixion as I prepare Sunday School sermons leading up to Easter. Yesterday and today, I spent quite a bit of time reading through the chapters in the gospels leading up to the point where Christ died.


​
I admit, it is incredibly hard to get through the story. I continually see an innocent man wrongly accused, political maneuvering, and tragic circumstances.

I love the change in the story as it moves from an innocent death to a realization that this death, this sacrifice, really is the Son of God giving up his life for others. 

As it turns upside down, love and grace win. Jesus is the beautiful sacrifice. His legacy is love, eternal life, good triumphing over evil, love winning over legalism.

And it got me thinking about legacy. What do I want my legacy to be?

I hope and pray my legacy to those around me will be a life that brings others into their own God-given grace. I hope that the power of grace that lives in me will encourage and help others to live out their own stories of grace and compassion. My story leads into other stories of how God changes lives and how those lives change others.

I believe that part of my legacy is in the words that I write so, here are some words to think about that I hope will encourage loved ones.

Live in Jesus. Walk your road with Him. Dance to music, cry with Him, learn from Him, be with him. Tell others about him.

Every day, every year that I know Him, He gets better. He gets better because I know more surely for who he is.

Jesus satisfies. His way brings peace and His love brings healing. Never allow circumstances to overshadow this reality. 

Celebrate life, every day, as often as you can. 

He has planted sunrises and had the sun set to remind you and I that He is there at the beginning of the day and at the end. 

When your burdens are heavy, He has your back and your front.

Don't waste time in the guilt of never being good enough. He is good enough, and your nearness to Him makes you good too. 

Give grace to everyone you meet. Bitterness kills the mind and soul. 

Don't take on the anger and guilt of others. Just wait patiently for darkness to pass. 

Remember that I am praying for you, believing in you, thanking God for you. The story of our lives together will be told forever throughout eternity.

Show others the love and grace of Jesus, and then, when hearts are open, tell them about how they may know Him. 

Teach your children and other children about Him every day and live with integrity in front of them because you are the first Bible they will ever read. You and I can pass on His messages and righteousness from one generation to another. 

Whatever you do, do it for God's glory. Create music, write books, cook meals, plant flowers, build websites. Do whatever God has gifted you to do. Use all that you have for his glory.

Like Paul, at the end, I want to say that I have fought the good fight and finished the course set out for me. It is a privilege to be able to walk hand in hand with Him everyday and to be a part of His Kingdom.

Dark tests do come, but remember they are temporary. He left us His peace, and He reminded us to take courage. 

Take courage. Hold fast. This trial will pass soon enough, and you will have an amazing story to tell.

Think of the feasting that is to come in heaven. Hold on to that in all trials. In the end, there is a party, a great feast, a beautiful rousing of other believers telling their stories of how HE changed it all. We will break the bread, drink the wine, celebrate His presence. 

​Believe and celebrate.

​John Bucchino is a talented composer and lyricist whose songs I stumbled on several years ago. My favorite tune of his is one called “Grateful.” “I’ve got a heart that can hold love,” it says, “I’ve got a mind that can think.” It’s impossible to stay depressed, writes Bucchino, when he remembers how he’s blessed. 

I get it. I am truly blessed and duly grateful, too. I’m grateful for any day of late that feels more like fall than summer. And for the birds outside my window that I love listening to most mornings. Grateful for the work that is waiting for me each day: good work that I enjoy; work that consistently puts gas in the car and groceries in the pantry and gives my heart and mind a workout in the process. Grateful for the friends whose questions keep me honest and whose prayers keep me close. For a husband and little boys that I adore. For parents who believed in me no matter what goofy thing I did. For big stuff like life and health and small stuff like raspberries available in spring and glory of autumn in October and November. For things hoped for and things unexpected. 

Mostly, though, I’m grateful that my heart knows whom to thank for all the goodness that is mine. Sure, the list of things is gratifying, but it’s the Giver who really makes my heart sing. Any gift divorced from its giver is a lifeless thing; I’m grateful God “leaves the tags on” for me so I can see where all the best stuff comes from.

God has enabled me to see with what I'm calling his gratefulness glasses. It doesn't come easily for me. My mother only asked me to count my blessings once a year at thanksgiving so it wasn't a habit for me. I had to meet people who I thought were worse off but had great perspective.

I recently talked to a godly young man named Brian who suffered severe burns in an industrial accident more than a decade ago. He lost 90 percent of the skin on his body, lost his eyesight, and had two arms and a leg amputated. As I listened to him, I was astonished at his utter lack of self-pity; on the contrary, he expressed great thanks for how God used the injury to cement his faith. He has become a tower of strength, and as he described his relationship with his wife, I marveled at the obvious intimacy of their relationship on all levels, even in the face of such a debilitating injury. 

I compared his Christlike, thankful spirit with my own whining when I suffered a common foot injury this past spring and had to take a few weeks off —and I just sighed. In a fallen world we can develop a radically unrealistic perspective. One severely disabled man said, “When you’re a quadriplegic, you look at a paraplegic and think, ‘Man, they’ve got it made!’ “ When we feel sorry for ourselves, we work against finding positive solutions. Brian can’t see his wife, and he’ll never be able to hug her, but he can talk to her, pray with her and for her, and comfort her with wise words of love, care, and concern. Through the Internet, he has even discovered ways to buy her presents without her knowing about it ahead of time. 

Sometimes, in God’s providence, certain pleasures may be closed to us, as they have been to Brian. God says, in effect, “This is not for you, at least not now.” We have to trust him to provide alternate pleasures —perhaps of an entirely different sort —that will sustain us in our trials.

The bottom line is without gratitude we are wallowing in our selfishness. With gratitude we can see with our Godly glasses on.

Feelings of entitlement feed anger; feelings of thankfulness swell our souls and can make us tear up with overflowing gratitude.

​Thanking God helps us recognize what pleasures we have while at the same time increasing our pleasure. Only when we become grateful for what we do have, or what we might work toward, do we find true joy. 

When we look at life through these Godly glasses, we become lost in wonder and convinced of God’s astounding generosity, marvelous mercy, and gigantic grace. Sin causes us to look at life through the lens of entitlement —that we deserve salvation without repentance, wealth without work, accolades without self-denial, health without personal discipline, pleasure without sacrifice. Biblical truth reminds us that, in reality, we deserve hell. 

Every small laugh, each tiny expression of joy, a simple meal —indeed, every single moment lived outside of the agony of hell —truly is an undeserved gift. When we add the assurance that the completed work of Christ guards our eternal destiny, our lives should radiate not merely joy but wonder and astonishment at how good God truly is. 

What are you grateful for—and for whom? What satisfies your soul and makes your heart sing? Whose presence blesses you like crazy? What beauties threaten to take your breath away? You really should thank Someone, don’t you think? 

Every generous act and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights; with Him there is no variation or shadow cast by turning. By His own choice, He gave us a new birth by the message of truth so that we would be the firstfruits of His creatures. JAMES 1:17-18 HCSB

It’s no secret that I am in love with this season. October in particular. The chill of the fall, with its shorter days and falling leaves. And the colors. The golds, crimsons, reds, browns of the falling leaves are a feast for the eyes.  The trees in all this color-filled are reaching to heaven, another great sight.

The sounds are amazing too. Leaves crunching under my feet. The noise of harvest as the farmers around us bring in their crops. The change from t-shirts to sweaters and sweatshirts. From cool drinks to warm teas. 

But the smells of autumn are the best.  Smell is one of our most powerful senses, connected to our subconscious memory in a way that our other senses are not. The smells of pumpkin, apples, peaches, and other vegetables are a delightful aroma.

When Paul calls the Corinthian Christians “the fragrance of Christ,” (2 Corinthians 2: 15, NASB) I marvel at the metaphor. Although their relationships were difficult and their circumstances trying, he envisioned them as a victorious parade wafting the incense of grace wherever they went. 

Maybe today you’re thinking that you would be the fragrance of Christ, except you’re heartbroken. Or you’re longing for something that isn’t and may never be. Or you’re sick. Or someone you love is. Or you’ve lost someone immeasurably precious to you. Or you’ve messed up. Big-time. 

If that’s what you’re thinking, the gospel contains better news for you than you could ever imagine: through the triumph of Christ, our emptiness can become abundance; our helplessness can become hope; and our failures can be exchanged for forgiveness, time and time again. 

Peter denied Jesus right after he boasted to his Master, “I would die for you.” What kind of God would accept such miserable failure? Our GOD! Through the sacrificial blood of Jesus Christ, our failures become acceptable, and our shame survivable. 

Like Peter, we can move from failure to forgiveness. Because we are the fragrance of Christ. Empty, helpless, ashamed . . . we are the fragrance of Christ. His presence is the divine alchemy that makes a beautiful aroma of our suffering and shame and spreads the sweet knowledge of him in every place. 

Today, may his presence create an unforgettable fragrance in you. 

Through us, he brings knowledge of Christ. Everywhere we go, people breathe in the exquisite fragrance. Because of Christ, we give off a sweet scent rising to God, which is recognized by those on the way of salvation—an aroma redolent with life. 2 CORINTHIANS 2: 14-16, MSG

What aspects of autumn are you in love with? 

Dear Mid-Life 40 something Birthday person (mainly me) but a few others including Wanda, Sumitra, Ann, Elizabeth, and others,

Happy Birthday! When you blow out your candles ponder over these things and whatever else your heart tells you to focus on. 

40-something. You’re about half way through life, old BraveHeart. Half way.

So let’s live backwards from your 90th birthday cake. We should always Live backward from the end goal. Look at who’s in the room singing off tune on your 90th birthday — and who are you making room for right now?

I want to be the weathered woman of 9 decades, still excited about life and God and grace, hunched over her cake, looking around a room of babies slung on hips and grinning teenagers and the gathering of the generations. I hope they sing old hymns and new style praise songs. I want to sing Amazing Grace to this group and recite Psalm 23 by heart and count our blessings together and eat cake.

I envision a rising of accents and the richness of skin colours and a poverty of spirit that knows the luckiness of Jesus-grace, and I hear the raucous of a room of the gloriously rowdy and live your life backwards from that last birthday cake. (Ann Voskamp)


What are my priorities that will be celebrated at this 90th birthday party? These are the things I’m focusing on now. My principles for this 90 year life.

1. Keep young people around. Especially the little people. They see things you are bound to miss without them.  Thank you Jordan for focusing on love, hugs, kisses, fun and sweetness.  Making a small person one of your greatest priorities makes your life great.

2. Read! Read the Bible. Reread books that touched you when you were younger. Read things that show you how to be a more compassionate human being. Read up on a new interest area. Learn something new. 

3. Stay in love. I’m holding on to this with all my life. Stay in touch, stay in truth and grace, and stay in the Story and, above all else: stay in love. Life is too short to move on to anything else. And mid-life is flat-out begging you: Risk it all. Risk large, risk now, risk your heart, risk for what ultimately matters.

Go back to school. Go reconcile. Go make it right. Invest in a dream that terrifies you. Do the hard thing that terrifies you. Start a business, a class, a soup kitchen, a friendship, a dinner club, a memoir, a church, a marathon, a family. Just start. Start over.
​
4. You life is art. Rake the risk and create! Risk is your friend who walks with you where you want to go. Risk is the friend who knows the way to where you want to go. Enjoy risk’s company.

5. Live into something bigger than you, that will require more than you, that will require faith and hope and miracles and God.Why waste your one life on any one’s small box?
Believe it:

6. Our God is a good God. Pray to Him. Make your life a prayer.Make your work your worship, make your days your doxology, make your life your liturgy, and make Christ your only King. Your work may burn up or cause you to burn out, but the prayers enfolded into the stacks of laundry, the stirred soup, the stairs swept — they will survive fire.

7. The cure to anxiety and an overwhelmed life begins with a daily overdose of Scripture. (Keep trying to memorize it)
Leave a Bible open to the Psalms by the sink, on the desk, at the table, eat His book every time you eat because the truth is: Stay in His Story to stay walking on waves.

What you focus on — is what you become like.
What you focus on — is what you become like.
Focus on good — and you’ll see more good everywhere to focus on.

8. Give more grace than advice.

9. You integrity is you only legacy. Hunger for integrity more than popularity, celebrity, or prosperity, — because your integrity is your only legacy.

10. Being broken is good. It keeps you soft and open and things can grow in soft and open spaces.

Let the rains come down into the soil of your heart, let whatever needs to rain simply come, and grow whatever He needs to grow, however He needs to grow it, because He reigns and knows what is best, and in our tender surrender, the glory of our God wins.

There may be another 40-something years left, there may only be another 16,425 days left.

And honestly? As many days, as moments, between here and 90, or as many remain?
​
At this 90-something party, I want to eat the cake of amazing grace. Pay attention to God. Pay attention to my family. Worship God in all that I do.
Be grateful, live given, show grit. 

I am a part of that epic story just as you are a part of that epic story! Your life will be celebrated in glory because you were created and imagined by a loving, beautiful, glorious Savior who cares for you. (Psalm 139:23-24)

Have a piece of that amazing grace cake!

​Lately I've been confronted with broken things. A broken door. A broken clock. A broken coffee mug that shattered on the trip from the dishwasher to the cabinet. 
 
The door stiill opens and closes, it only needs a new handle. The mug was a goner, but not an heirloom. But I can't quite escape the feeling that I'm in the vortex of some invisible wind that is swirling wildly around me. And breaking things apart...
 
"Things fall apart," Irish poet Yeats wrote, "the centre cannot hold." I feel his pain, but I challenge his conclusion. I believe the center can hold, and does. The center holds because The Beautiful Son is at the center of everything, holding all things together: "For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities--all things have been created by Him and for Him. And He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together." (Colossians 1:16-17, NASB)
 
Circumstances at the edges are perilous, yes. Things are broken. They crash and fall and shatter. But the center is strong. The center holds. Or better, it is held.
 
The challenge is to celebrate the mending, not mourn the pieces. To be thankful for the repairs, and not lament (at least not for long) the breaking. The challenge is to believe--even before things are put right--that rightness is near and possible...that it will come. Broken things will be mended: one day even our own hearts' cracks and fault lines will be made flawlessly whole again , and stronger for it.
 
Because my God loves broken things. Even me. He redeems broken things! We are mosaics in Christ!
 
"And although you were formerly alienated and hostile in mind, engaged in evil deeds, yet He has now reconciled you in His fleshly body through death, in order to present you before Him holy and blameless and beyond reproach--" (Colossians 1:21-22, NASB)