pageantry
I bet you didn’t know I’ve been in a pageant.
But not the kind you’re probably thinking of. I’ve never strut around in a bikini and heels, or shown off some obscure talent, or publicly declared my desire for world peace. No, I’ve never been in that kind of pageant.
My life has been a pageant of a different kind. One in which I’ve been crowned all sorts of things other than Miss America. I’ve worn banners draped across my chest that read:
Or how about:
I’ve walked around wearing those banners for far too long. They’ve shaped how others see me and, more importantly, how I see myself.
It’s time to take them off and replace them with truth.
keepin’ it fresh
Tomorrow is four-minute Friday.
That means I start with Go and end with Done, and everything in between is written in four minutes. I typically choose a topic based on whatever’s happening at the moment, and then just start typing. I’ve four-minuted about time zones, nicknames, and cereal. Music, hope, Isaiah 53, and ostriches.
Thanks to an inspiring housewarming gift, I’m gonna mix things up this week. You get to decide the topic of tomorrow’s post.
So. What do want me to ramble about for four minutes? Give me as many suggestions as you’ve got.
coffee talk: exchanges
“They exchanged the truth of God for a lie…”
And you know what? So have I.
- I’ve exchanged His truth that I’m loved freely for the lie that I need to earn it.
- I’ve exchanged His truth that He’ll provide for the lie that I need to take care of myself.
- I’ve exchanged His truth that I’m free for the lie that I’m still in chains.
- I’ve exchanged His truth that He uses broken vessels for the lie that He’ll only use me when I dot-dot-dot.
- I’ve exchanged His truth that I was made in His image for the lie that who I am just isn’t enough.
What would you add to the list?
And how do we exchange them back?
eyes to see and ears to hear
Mary Magdalene was overwhelmed and confused when she discovered the empty tomb. Her bewilderment only compounded her grief, and she collapsed into tears. As she wept, her risen Savior appeared and stood beside her, but she didn’t recognize Him. She looked at Him; she even talked to Him. But somehow she didn’t realize Who was right in front of her eyes.
I do the same thing far too often.
In my ignorance, busyness, and sometimes just the emotions of the moment, I easily miss Jesus when He’s standing right in front of me. I simply don’t realize it’s Him—ever present, ever speaking. My eyes can be so blind that I miss Him in painted sunsets and unforeseen provision. My ears can be so deaf that I miss His voice in familiar Bible passages and the words of a friend.
Mary eventually recognized Him. You know what finally opened her eyes and ears?
He called her by name. His voice—His tender, powerful, matchless voice—uniquely calling her name was enough to make her realize He’d been beside her all along. Her blinders fell off; her ears were opened. She saw. She heard. She knew.
I desire to see the Lord in expected and unexpected places. I want to hear Him in common and uncommon ways. I need Him to open my eyes and unblock my ears.
Jesus, say my name!
name that city
Ever been here?
confessions of an adulteress
I’ve been so unfaithful. He has loved me faithfully, yet I’ve turned my back on Him time and time again.
I’ve chased love when Perfect Love stands before me, holding me in His gaze. I’ve chased joy when it overflows nowhere but His presence. I’ve chased peace when my completeness comes only from Him.
All He’s ever wanted is my heart, and I’ve kept it tightly in my own hands as if I could care for it better.
He is jealous for me, and all I’ve been jealous for is everything I think I’m missing out on.
Even as I’ve pushed Him away, His everlasting arms have never stopped holding me.
He’s been nothing but faithful, despite my faithless heart and wandering ways.
Even amid the adultery of my heart, I hear His tender voice calling. Seek My face. I lift my eyes. I want to see Him, and be seen by Him. Unashamed of my nakedness and brokenness, I want to see and be seen. Know and be known. Understand and be understood. Love and be loved.
Fully.
Freely.
Recklessly.
Relentlessly.
His compassion overwhelms me. His ever-faithful love consumes me. His mercy breaks up the unplowed ground of my heart’s back forty.
Always have been; always will be.
And by His grace, my heart will stay more faithful to Him today than it did yesterday.
ht: Hosea
known
What are you known for?
My husband is notorious for asking that question when we visit a restaurant. He wants to know what’s uniquely theirs that keeps people coming back for more. And then he usually orders it. He wants to taste and see for himself.
Sometimes it’s bit him in the butt. Like the time in Sicily he ended up with an entire fish—bones, head, insides, and all! But most of the time he really enjoys whatever it is they’re known for.
I’ve been thinking lately about his famous question—but in the context of me. What am I known for?
I could easily tell you what I want to be known for. But what I actually am? That takes some more thinking. I think it’s a question worth knowing the answer to, though.
How about you? What are you known for?
Maybe it’s your contagious laughter, or your gentle spirit. Perhaps it’s your loyalty, your passion for God, or your spontaneity. It could be your authenticity, or your love of baking. Or even your much-applied minty lip gloss.
Ruminate for a minute, and then let us know what you think. I’ll be back later to answer the question for myself.
What are you known for?
Feel free to answer anonymously.
i am so not a morning person
Which one do you usually find yourself saying?
face time
Have you seen Dentyne’s current ad campaign?
I think it’s sheer creative genius. Mostly because it deeply resonates with people. And while it doesn’t make me want to blow bubbles with Dentyne gum, it does make me want to put down my laptop and enjoy some face time.
Living in Africa for over a decade, the internet has been my life source for connections. Most of my friendships have never been sustained with phone calls, coffee dates, lunches, or visits. Instead, they’ve been cultivated with emails, instant messages, blogging, and video chats.
Lately I’ve heard a lot of dialogue about whether or not community can be found online. This much I know is true: It can. I’m grateful for the rich, genuine friendships that I’ve fostered over the internet.
But while I appreciate the value of “technologically advanced” friendships, I also recognize the significance of what I’ve missed in actual face time. A text message communicates far less than a long, tight hug. A phone call pales in comparison with the unspoken expressions of a glance or a touch. An online chat is merely a shadow of a chai-in-hand conversation on a coffee shop couch.
I’ll always be grateful for whatever form of connection and affection I’m blessed to have. But whenever possible, please can I have some face time?
‘Cause, seriously… What I wouldn’t give for a hug like this today—
meet dwayne
There’s a certain Starbucks I visit fairly often, usually for hours on end with my laptop, journal, or Bible coming along for company. And there’s a certain older gentleman who visits there just as regularly as I do. Dwayne’s guaranteed to be found reading a newspaper, playing sudoku, or taking a nap in the middle of either.
The other day I pit-stopped in a Starbucks on the complete other side of town. As I pulled into the parking lot, I spotted a familiar face enjoying a smoke outside. What was Dwayne doing here?!
“I feel like I’ve been caught cheating on my wife,” he said when he saw me. He chuckled; I looked away and smiled.
In a strange city where I know practically no one, I was caught off guard by running into someone I “know”. Made me realize just how long I’ve actually been here, and the fact that three months is a pretty long temporary.
I’m back in my usual Bux today after a bit of a hiatus. And Dwayne’s not here. I wonder where he is, and if he’s okay.
And I wonder if he’s wondered the same about me.
