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Always Autumn
by: Kate Cannon
School and autumn … this is a combination I have always
always loved and looked forward to each year. I love how it begins as the
warm summer fades into chilled nights and the more structured, scheduled days
are full of productive and meaningful studies of subjects that enrich and
sustain intellectual and emotional development. I love that school allows
children an opportunity to not only work and study on their own, but it also
simultaneously gives them ways to interact and engage with others in a setting
that teaches kindness and bravery all at once in a place that at its core, is
one of the more pure places in our human experience. I love the way in
which the world changes during the beginning of school in autumn, right before
our eyes… in color, in song, in scent. Leaves are seemingly shy as
they turn shades of crimson, gold, and amber while geese blast out a catalyst
for flight to warmer regions. The once-beautifully bursting pink and purple
hydrangea blooms send a new message that tells us all to rest as the flowers
fade into dusty, quiet shadows. All the while, children are near,
preparing for their own unique and special metamorphosis as the school itself
becomes the cocoon in which they will stay for the cold winter ahead until they
emerge new and changed next spring.
Fall also brings a host of other special events: parties
with shiny apples and vibrant orange pumpkins, contested elections that change
a nation, Veterans Day in which we thank all those who have served, and
certainly Thanksgiving Day in all of its bounty and history - stories which
make us all who we are. It is necessary for people to reflect upon their
heritage and blessings, as the more grateful we are, the more grateful we
become. In addition to all of these special days, autumn also brings a haunting
moment in September: the call I received regarding the untimely death of my
younger brother. This is a date in the autumn season which I have been utterly
unable to see any hint of a blessing, amidst so many days full of joy, despite
God’s word that we
should “give
thanks in all circumstances.” Impossible. Completely and totally
impossible. His death is not a blessing, and isn’t it ridiculous to even
say such a thing? A heavy portion of anger, along with a heaping amount of
sadness, coupled with a nagging feeling of continual guilt and including great
amounts of disbelief, and the sense of shame involved do not begin to describe
my walk through that difficult day of my life. My husband (of only three months
at that point) and I heard that news in the middle of the night, and just hours
later we were on a flight to the hospital where my brother lay, swollen,
bandaged, and being kept alive by modern medical science and a team of highly
skilled medical professionals. Shortly after our arrival, and following a brief
and uncomfortable greeting to all family members, he was pronounced dead. We
spent the next three days in the trauma unit waiting for his young, healthy,
perfect organs to be placed in others’ bodies. I could easily relate to Martha
when she must have uttered to Christ in complete despair, “Lord, If you had been here, my brother
would not have died.” I was standing there with my own sister, attempting to
understand what Mary and Martha endured so long ago.
Autumn... cold, dark, lonely, sad and scary … this also
part of my autumn. Those months I spent in sadness, confusion, and fear
asking more “why”
questions than I ever knew existed. Not even the excitement and love I
have for school could help, or being newly married, or having dear friends who
went out of their way to call, text, and write to me in the aftermath, or
having my own family with whom to walk through some of our darkest hours … nothing
could ever possibly fix this. It is Death.
Red-hot anger in those days and weeks turned into a cold
wind of bitterness and that chill gave way to rock-hard resentment in my heart
for years. I shut God out and really blamed Him, thinking that if He were a
loving, kind God as I know He is said to be, then He would never, ever allow
such a tragedy to happen. He would simply not allow such a thing to occur,
especially to me or to my family. He must not exist, I concluded. And
then, just like that, back to school my hardened heart went as I continued
telling Him that He is not fair, that He is not there, and I simply continued
to do what I know how to to: teach. School is comfortable for me because I love
children so much, and gradually I gave bits of my heart back to the students
and families with whom I worked, and I did not talk about my brother with
anyone. I was simply told Christ how angry I was … and this was a
turning point, dear one — I began talking to Christ directly for the first time
in my life. I told him how angry I was for allowing this to happen and I
said to Him directly that there was nothing left in which to hope, and I told
Him that it was always autumn in my heart.
And then, my dear friend, after
many years of hiding from Him and blaming Him, God spoke back to me in a quiet
voice during a dream. He made clear that He loves me and loves my brother, even
though I am not able to understand all of His ways. He made clear that my
brother, just like Lazarus, had been resurrected and is now with Christ in the
heavenly realms.
Three times.
He gently,
quietly, clearly showed me in three different dreams that my brother is loved,
healthy, alive and saved. I did not create those dreams, and yet they have
prompted me to find out more about Christ and His Father. The worst tragedy of
my life has become the very event which has allowed me to begin to process
how God will "provide
for those who grieve in Zion-- to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of
ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a
spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the
LORD for the display of his splendor.” This verse, Isaiah 61:3, has
comforted and challenged me since I began to see the power of Christ in our
lives - yours and mine.
Every
year, on my little brother’s birthday, God does something special just for
me! He makes some miraculous detail in
the day happen that lets me know that I didn’t make it all up in my mind
wishing that it were true. For example, several years in a row there has been a
red cardinal who comes and perches just overhead, following me down a path of
beautifully blooming trees on the 27th of May every year in different
locations, but always on his birthday.
My brother was my best friend.
God wants us to know Him deeply and intimately, in ways that we only
will if we have walked through the valley of the shadow of death with Him and
then come out on the other side, still walking with Him. When autumn is over,
when the winter seasons have come and gone our lives, I want to be able to say
that I have a crown of beauty, the fragrant scent of oil, and a garment of
praise. I am still working on it… but now I am working on it with Him. Friends,
He is asking us to join with Him to conquer sadness, disappointment, pain,
fear, and even Death itself, by the power of Christ on the cross.
The Car Wash
My car is filthy. Like, dirt roads and mud holes, dirty. Write your name on it, dirty. Car pool full of boys, dirty. Preschooler snacks and pre-pubescence - dirty. I pay a ridiculous amount to subscribe to a local car wash. Do you know, I drive by it every day with my dirty car? The car wash that I've already paid for- to wash - my dirty car? I drive past it - every day. I always have a reason why I don't stop. Usually, it is that I will go tomorrow.
A dear friend of mine says, "cleanliness is close to Godliness"..oh Lawd, help me! We could eat dinner off of her car's floor. For real.
Tomorrow never comes. Charlie Brown "Linus" style dust cloud continues to follow my #CarFullofBoysandFriends. Soon, the dust cloud will be named because it is becoming the size of a storm. I know it. Yet, I still drive past the car wash. Every day. The car wash that has already been paid for.
This reminds me of something. Oh yes, I know! My life and Jesus' ability to wash away. To make new. I've been made new. Many years ago. However, there are still things that I carry. The dust on my car. That dust that I always think I'll wash off and let go of tomorrow. In the wash, that has already been paid for, I continue to drive by with my dirt. Tomorrow, I'll go.
I know He is in my mess, but what if I allowed Him to wash over me. The parts of me that I don't want to surrender. The parts of me that I know need His cleansing blood to wash over me again and again.
Recently my car has been gifted a large dent in the rear courtesy of my two reasons why we can have nothing-nice-in-this-phase-of-life-boys. I didn't ask for the dent. I didn't cause it. But, alas, it is there. The dent, the dust, and the precious boys that I adore. The boys I prayed for. The boys I thought I might not ever have. Dirty, messy, beautiful, mine.
At car rider pick up, I usually feel the need to apologize as the door opens. But, I don't. Instead, I laugh. I smile. And in the words unsaid, I say, it's a season. Someday I am going to miss these smelly, messy people that I live for - who trash my car, dent the rear and leave snack wrappers to find their way home.
It reminds me of how God must feel about his daughter - me. Instead of apologizing when the dust ball comes rolling up on the scene. He smiles. He knows the car wash has already been paid for. He knows, I'll get there. He knows my heart, my mess, and loves me anyway.
Car wash, or not. He loves me anyway. He is always there. Patiently waiting to wash over me. He doesn't judge the mess when it finally pulls up. He restores. And, sends me back off into the world to get messy again.
A dear friend of mine says, "cleanliness is close to Godliness"..oh Lawd, help me! We could eat dinner off of her car's floor. For real.
Tomorrow never comes. Charlie Brown "Linus" style dust cloud continues to follow my #CarFullofBoysandFriends. Soon, the dust cloud will be named because it is becoming the size of a storm. I know it. Yet, I still drive past the car wash. Every day. The car wash that has already been paid for.
This reminds me of something. Oh yes, I know! My life and Jesus' ability to wash away. To make new. I've been made new. Many years ago. However, there are still things that I carry. The dust on my car. That dust that I always think I'll wash off and let go of tomorrow. In the wash, that has already been paid for, I continue to drive by with my dirt. Tomorrow, I'll go.
I know He is in my mess, but what if I allowed Him to wash over me. The parts of me that I don't want to surrender. The parts of me that I know need His cleansing blood to wash over me again and again.
Recently my car has been gifted a large dent in the rear courtesy of my two reasons why we can have nothing-nice-in-this-phase-of-life-boys. I didn't ask for the dent. I didn't cause it. But, alas, it is there. The dent, the dust, and the precious boys that I adore. The boys I prayed for. The boys I thought I might not ever have. Dirty, messy, beautiful, mine.
At car rider pick up, I usually feel the need to apologize as the door opens. But, I don't. Instead, I laugh. I smile. And in the words unsaid, I say, it's a season. Someday I am going to miss these smelly, messy people that I live for - who trash my car, dent the rear and leave snack wrappers to find their way home.
It reminds me of how God must feel about his daughter - me. Instead of apologizing when the dust ball comes rolling up on the scene. He smiles. He knows the car wash has already been paid for. He knows, I'll get there. He knows my heart, my mess, and loves me anyway.
Car wash, or not. He loves me anyway. He is always there. Patiently waiting to wash over me. He doesn't judge the mess when it finally pulls up. He restores. And, sends me back off into the world to get messy again.
Jesus Loves this Hot Mess
In the midst of the mess, the struggle, the strife, and the sufferings we go through in life, it can be easy to overlook the beauty that can be found right in the center of it all. During some of the darkest seasons of my life, beauty was birthed, in pain, through the mess. Beauty from ashes. Dry bones to life. A tender sprout of new life amongst the rubble. In the aftermath of hurricane Matthew, there has been so much destruction, devastation and debris to clean up and recover from. As our town has been working through the process of restoring yards, neighborhoods and homes, I have seen beauty in the mess. While sitting with sadness for those who lost so much, I also began to move past sadness to see the potential in the pain. The potential looks different for each person. For me, in life, unrelated to a hurricane, pain has stirred purpose, potential and a giant push to overcome.
We are given the opportunity to decide how to handle our trials, though, we are not given the choice of what trials will come. We can choose to become angry. We can choose to become bitter, resentful, damaged and undone. We can choose many paths. We can even sit with all of these emotions for a short while on our road to restoration. However, I know, chaperoning these feelings to take root in our heart for an extended period of time, will not allow progress and complete restoration.
For example, in my neighborhood there are still a few yards with huge trees that were crushed in the storm. The process of restoration has begun, but is not finished. Chain saws are continuing to cut up the dying trees and now enormously, heavy, pieces are stacked and lined by the road awaiting equipment to come and pick them up. Branches and brown leaves are like confetti on the lawns. This particular sight is one I drive by each day. The clean up process was fast for some yards and for others it has taken time. In this particular yard that I drive by, the homeowners were fortunate in that the tree did not fall on their home. However, now, they have this huge pile of debris sitting on their lawn with the potential of killing all of their grass.
When I drive by, I don't see the mess anymore. I see the beauty of the huge logs. I see a background for pictures. I see potential. I see the beauty in the ashes. Last evening, just before dusk, I grabbed my camera and a few pieces of wearable faith that I've been working on. I ran down the road and set up shop, in their front yard, taking pictures of my bracelets in the midst of the hurricane's mess.
Be the good. See the good. Make a difference. Make a change. Make the world a better by showing Christ in you. Make. Make something for his glory. Make His name, known. Sitting and staying in fear never changed the world before and it certainly won't now. So, get busy. Move past your fear of failure and get to work.
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We are given the opportunity to decide how to handle our trials, though, we are not given the choice of what trials will come. We can choose to become angry. We can choose to become bitter, resentful, damaged and undone. We can choose many paths. We can even sit with all of these emotions for a short while on our road to restoration. However, I know, chaperoning these feelings to take root in our heart for an extended period of time, will not allow progress and complete restoration.
For example, in my neighborhood there are still a few yards with huge trees that were crushed in the storm. The process of restoration has begun, but is not finished. Chain saws are continuing to cut up the dying trees and now enormously, heavy, pieces are stacked and lined by the road awaiting equipment to come and pick them up. Branches and brown leaves are like confetti on the lawns. This particular sight is one I drive by each day. The clean up process was fast for some yards and for others it has taken time. In this particular yard that I drive by, the homeowners were fortunate in that the tree did not fall on their home. However, now, they have this huge pile of debris sitting on their lawn with the potential of killing all of their grass.
When I drive by, I don't see the mess anymore. I see the beauty of the huge logs. I see a background for pictures. I see potential. I see the beauty in the ashes. Last evening, just before dusk, I grabbed my camera and a few pieces of wearable faith that I've been working on. I ran down the road and set up shop, in their front yard, taking pictures of my bracelets in the midst of the hurricane's mess.
In addition, to the pictures, I met the homeowners as the pulled into their driveway. I'm embarrassed to say that we had never met and only live a few houses away from each other. It was a pleasure to meet Mrs. Emily and Mr. Dutch. I told them how beautiful I thought the logs were and how much I would love for my husband to figure out a way to tote them to our yard. They laughed and I'm sure thought I was a little off my rocker! Mr. Dutch then shared a story with me about the joys of young children and the elderly. He shared a story with me that he had seen on tv about how a young child brought so much joy to an elderly man in a retirement home who was struggling with depression. Hope. Joy. Love. It's all around us if our eyes are open to it.
This morning, I realized, that sometimes the most beautiful things are not the image captured but, rather, the story behind the lens. (On a side note, I'm the worst photographer there ever was but I have found the courage to take pictures for my shop anyways because, for me, imperfect is better than not trying at all). So, I grabbed my camera and threw on some clothes for fear of running into neighbors, in my pajamas, while taking pictures of bracelets in the debris - oh, Lawd, now they KNOW it's true I am - the strange neighbor! But, it occurred, that there it was - in the midst of the debris, on the dawning of this new day, that God's word is true and He does mean what He says. In Psalm 30:5 it says, "For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning."
I don't know what debris is clouding your thoughts and decaying your heart this morning. But, I do know the God who can make all things new. The God who can raise the dead to life. My God who makes beauty from ashes. My God who adores you and all your mess. My God who adores me and my hot mess. God, who can look past the debris and see the potential, see the purpose and show us the way to it. The God who can use ALL things for His glory including the trials, the pain, the suffering, along with all of the goodness of your life, for His name sake.
In our limited perspective sometimes we see this: The mess. The ashes. The dry bones. The jagged edges. The once was.
But, I believe, along with those things, God is able to see more. He sees the beauty in the ashes. He sees the dry bones coming to life. He sees the tender sprout rising up from the rubble. He sees the potential, the purpose, the plans that are good even in the midst of the mess.
I am not a jewelry maker, or a photographer. And, until three weeks ago, I wasn't someone in the clothing industry either. I've spent too many years of my life telling myself who I am not. Why I am not and the reasons not to try. The beauty from my ashes continues to remind me and make me realize that I care too much not to try. My greatest concern is not about the products I am making, but the God who I am making known. If wearing a t-shirt, a bracelet or something else that speaks of who the God I serve is, then you better believe I am willing to risk what it takes to figure out how to do it. This Wednesday, will you join me? Will you show the world the beauty in your ashes? Will you wear your faith as a stance of - my life may not be perfect, but my God is. You can wear whatever you have in your closet, a t-shirt, a cross, a bracelet...use what you already have! I encourage you to stand, join us in #wearablefaithwedesday each week and begin a courageous conversation in the grocery store, at the gym or at work. The world needs you to help others know that there is beauty in their ashes and Jesus loves that hot mess, too.
Be the good. See the good. Make a difference. Make a change. Make the world a better by showing Christ in you. Make. Make something for his glory. Make His name, known. Sitting and staying in fear never changed the world before and it certainly won't now. So, get busy. Move past your fear of failure and get to work.
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For Such a Time as This
Looking back I can see how the dots connect. I can see how I was being prepared for something I could never have asked for or imagined. I can now see, with perspective, what had seemed to be a blurry mess in my life - like an illusion that one stares at for long enough- that the blur comes into focus. God has been refining me, in an uncomfortable process over the last two years of my life in all aspects of my being. He is allowing for the stripping away of layers and the pruning of my soul. It has been raw, painful and sweet all at the same time. To share all He has done, is more than one quick write. However, today, I would like to share about the birth of a dream I didn't even know I had.
Last Fall, my oldest son, Noah, started first grade in public school. As a past public school teacher, I was very comfortable with the curriculum, the system as a whole and knew what to expect. I was uncomfortable with was the grandiose of it all. The huge school, the large student body, the unknown teachers and the reality that he was no longer under my watch down the hall at my preschool. Shortly before school began, I learned that he would have a brand new teacher. I was quickly taken back to my first year teaching and began to grow anxious. However, I was quickly put at ease at Open House. His new teacher was wise beyond her experience and appeared like an old pro.
Several weeks went by and I continued to have a deep unsettling that I couldn't name. He was attending a great school and had a wonderful, passionate, new teacher. However, night after night, I kept feeling like I wasn't in step with what God was requiring of me. You see, a year before, I felt a gentle nudge to consider a Christian school. But, I ignored. I questioned and then I moved on. There was the private school tuition. Ouch. There was the fact that I was a past public school teacher. There was uncertainty with their curriculum that is different than the curriculum I taught. There was uncertainty and fear. There were differing opinions amongst peers. There was a whole long list of "Buts, whats and ignoring" because I certainly knew what was better for my child than what God was asking of me.
Finally, after literally wrestling with it for weeks, I did what I thought I'd never do. I obeyed when it was difficult, uncomfortable, unpopular and unsettling. As a teacher, I never thought I'd move my child during the school year, especially not only a few weeks after the start of the year. I felt slightly crazy having to explain to a phenomenal principal at the school, that I thought the world of Noah's teacher and highly of the school itself, but that I felt led to leave the school. She soothed my soul by her response of encouragement to be faithful to how I was being led. Telling Noah's teacher was equally as difficult because she truly was exceptional. She was doing everything well and yet, we were leaving.
Since, moving to a small Christian school in obedience, God has changed my life. He has changed my relationship with him. He has made my faith come to life. And, here, I thought it was only about Noah. In First grade, at the Christian Academy, Noah's teacher, Jennifer Carroll, introduced me to something called Illustrated Faith. She showed me wide margined Bibles that people actually painted, drew and colored in. She introduced me to jewelry and t-shirts that inspired me. Over and over, Mrs. Carroll continued to point me towards seeing Christ in a different light. You see, I had put limits on how I thought I could experience God and therefore my relationship with Him was also limited.
Looking back, I can see missteps along the way because I was moving in fear. I was leaving the known of public school, my public school teaching experiences, and stepping into the unknown of private school. I can see the areas where I refused to walk in faith and continued to try to cling to the comfortable. However, Mrs. Carroll, continued to show this nervous Mama, grace. But more than grace, she showed me Christ in a way I never imagined I could see Him. She showed me How to worship Him, and walk with Him unlike I ever had before. Suddenly, I was interested in opening my Bible more often and spending time in it. I felt like a lifetime of feeling unable to express myself through the arts began pouring out of me through watercolors, markers and colored pencils. I had this new unbridled need to create, beautiful or not. I was no longer limited by the expectation of perfection. I could just be, me.
At the same time, my husband and sons, started spending most of their free time hunting, four wheeling and being outdoors. I began to purposely shift my thinking from resentful to intentional about this hobby of theirs. I started going with them. I started showing up. It was uncomfortable. But, I kept showing up. After many, many, many outdoor expeditions with my little explorers, something surprising happened. Their love for the outdoors started becoming my love, too. It didn't happen quickly. It wasn't forced. But, after showing up over and over and over again, my heart began to change.
This is the season of my life. Showing up. Show up rain or shine. Muddy and messy and beautiful. Show up, anyway, and watch what God can do.
In February last year, while out to eat, Noah interrupted the conversation and said he had something he needed to tell me. Thinking it was another long Minecraft narration or expression of His love of all things digital, I told him he needed to wait because his Grandma and I were talking. He patiently obeyed and finally could not wait any longer. He came over and whispered in my ear, "Mom, today at Grandma's, I prayed and asked God to come into my heart."
I almost missed the moment, because I thought I knew what he was going to say. Just like I almost missed a life change, because I thought I knew better than God.
Now, a little over a year later, God used Mrs. Carroll to stir up a passion in my heart that has unknowingly always been there waiting, patiently, to be awakened. God has used a little hunt lease in the woods, that I used to resent, to bring our family closer together. He has been teaching me to show up, not to be afraid to get a little mud on my boots or paint on my hands because life is messy and beautiful. Through it all, He continues to teach me to trust Him. Trust His ways and to stand up, stand out and be set apart for His glory, for His namesake. So, in that, in my illustrated faith, in the t-shirts and jewelry I've worn, I started to wonder, what if I made it myself? What if I stepped out into the uncomfortable again? What if I chased something I didn't know how to do? What could God do through me if I trusted Him?
I'd like to introduce to you, my little Etsy shop of wearable faith, From the Stand. Because, for me, it is from the stand of faith and obedience that I was willing to show up to what God was asking and requiring of me, with my family and my faith. From the stand of faith, I was willing to show up to a place I never imagined I'd be and realized that in my love for my family, I would also find a love for their passion, in the woods, and also in a deer stand. I'm not afraid of failing with this new little endeavor because my ultimate goal is not just to sell t-shirts or stationary but to MAKE Him known. If I able to do that alone, I will consider it a success.
Listen to "Stand" by Hillsong United
Last Fall, my oldest son, Noah, started first grade in public school. As a past public school teacher, I was very comfortable with the curriculum, the system as a whole and knew what to expect. I was uncomfortable with was the grandiose of it all. The huge school, the large student body, the unknown teachers and the reality that he was no longer under my watch down the hall at my preschool. Shortly before school began, I learned that he would have a brand new teacher. I was quickly taken back to my first year teaching and began to grow anxious. However, I was quickly put at ease at Open House. His new teacher was wise beyond her experience and appeared like an old pro.
Several weeks went by and I continued to have a deep unsettling that I couldn't name. He was attending a great school and had a wonderful, passionate, new teacher. However, night after night, I kept feeling like I wasn't in step with what God was requiring of me. You see, a year before, I felt a gentle nudge to consider a Christian school. But, I ignored. I questioned and then I moved on. There was the private school tuition. Ouch. There was the fact that I was a past public school teacher. There was uncertainty with their curriculum that is different than the curriculum I taught. There was uncertainty and fear. There were differing opinions amongst peers. There was a whole long list of "Buts, whats and ignoring" because I certainly knew what was better for my child than what God was asking of me.
Finally, after literally wrestling with it for weeks, I did what I thought I'd never do. I obeyed when it was difficult, uncomfortable, unpopular and unsettling. As a teacher, I never thought I'd move my child during the school year, especially not only a few weeks after the start of the year. I felt slightly crazy having to explain to a phenomenal principal at the school, that I thought the world of Noah's teacher and highly of the school itself, but that I felt led to leave the school. She soothed my soul by her response of encouragement to be faithful to how I was being led. Telling Noah's teacher was equally as difficult because she truly was exceptional. She was doing everything well and yet, we were leaving.
Since, moving to a small Christian school in obedience, God has changed my life. He has changed my relationship with him. He has made my faith come to life. And, here, I thought it was only about Noah. In First grade, at the Christian Academy, Noah's teacher, Jennifer Carroll, introduced me to something called Illustrated Faith. She showed me wide margined Bibles that people actually painted, drew and colored in. She introduced me to jewelry and t-shirts that inspired me. Over and over, Mrs. Carroll continued to point me towards seeing Christ in a different light. You see, I had put limits on how I thought I could experience God and therefore my relationship with Him was also limited.
Looking back, I can see missteps along the way because I was moving in fear. I was leaving the known of public school, my public school teaching experiences, and stepping into the unknown of private school. I can see the areas where I refused to walk in faith and continued to try to cling to the comfortable. However, Mrs. Carroll, continued to show this nervous Mama, grace. But more than grace, she showed me Christ in a way I never imagined I could see Him. She showed me How to worship Him, and walk with Him unlike I ever had before. Suddenly, I was interested in opening my Bible more often and spending time in it. I felt like a lifetime of feeling unable to express myself through the arts began pouring out of me through watercolors, markers and colored pencils. I had this new unbridled need to create, beautiful or not. I was no longer limited by the expectation of perfection. I could just be, me.
At the same time, my husband and sons, started spending most of their free time hunting, four wheeling and being outdoors. I began to purposely shift my thinking from resentful to intentional about this hobby of theirs. I started going with them. I started showing up. It was uncomfortable. But, I kept showing up. After many, many, many outdoor expeditions with my little explorers, something surprising happened. Their love for the outdoors started becoming my love, too. It didn't happen quickly. It wasn't forced. But, after showing up over and over and over again, my heart began to change.
This is the season of my life. Showing up. Show up rain or shine. Muddy and messy and beautiful. Show up, anyway, and watch what God can do.
In February last year, while out to eat, Noah interrupted the conversation and said he had something he needed to tell me. Thinking it was another long Minecraft narration or expression of His love of all things digital, I told him he needed to wait because his Grandma and I were talking. He patiently obeyed and finally could not wait any longer. He came over and whispered in my ear, "Mom, today at Grandma's, I prayed and asked God to come into my heart."
I almost missed the moment, because I thought I knew what he was going to say. Just like I almost missed a life change, because I thought I knew better than God.
Now, a little over a year later, God used Mrs. Carroll to stir up a passion in my heart that has unknowingly always been there waiting, patiently, to be awakened. God has used a little hunt lease in the woods, that I used to resent, to bring our family closer together. He has been teaching me to show up, not to be afraid to get a little mud on my boots or paint on my hands because life is messy and beautiful. Through it all, He continues to teach me to trust Him. Trust His ways and to stand up, stand out and be set apart for His glory, for His namesake. So, in that, in my illustrated faith, in the t-shirts and jewelry I've worn, I started to wonder, what if I made it myself? What if I stepped out into the uncomfortable again? What if I chased something I didn't know how to do? What could God do through me if I trusted Him?
I'd like to introduce to you, my little Etsy shop of wearable faith, From the Stand. Because, for me, it is from the stand of faith and obedience that I was willing to show up to what God was asking and requiring of me, with my family and my faith. From the stand of faith, I was willing to show up to a place I never imagined I'd be and realized that in my love for my family, I would also find a love for their passion, in the woods, and also in a deer stand. I'm not afraid of failing with this new little endeavor because my ultimate goal is not just to sell t-shirts or stationary but to MAKE Him known. If I able to do that alone, I will consider it a success.
I leave you with this thought, what is God asking of you? Are you willing to leap "From the Stand" of faith in your life? We need you to. The world needs you to show up and to throw off the fear that has been holding you back. The world needs what you have to offer. It's time to move past fear and into faith. It's time for you (and I) to get to work in what God has been asking you to do. If that means taking a class, attending a conference, finding a mentor, or simply showing up, it's time to get started. You were made for a time such a this. You. The only you that God made. He has required something of you, that only you, can uniquely offer. Show up. Say yes to what He has asking and go do it. You don't have to be perfect, you just have to be you.
Our charitable t-shirt "God, give us hills to climb and the strength to do it" is on sale for $25 from now until Black Friday (Nov. 26th). 100% of the proceeds go directly to Camp Ridgecrest through our Stand Up Kid Camp Scholarship fund for a boy or girl from Myrtle Beach to experience summer camp and possibly meet Christ for the first time while they are there!
Listen to "Stand" by Hillsong United
Unsettled Hope
Let us not become so focused on a donkey or an elephant, that we lose sight of the Lamb. Let us remember that we are, One Nation Under God.
Heaviness. I awoke with heaviness deep in my soul over all that has surrounded this past Tuesday's Presidential election. Swirling thoughts of fear, doubt and uncertainty want to rise up and scream out for attention in my spirit.
However, this post, is not political, I promise. This post is positional. Each day, I must- want to or not- position myself in a way that I am able to know, that I know, that my hope is not in man (or woman) but that my hope and my strength comes from the Lord. I refuse to give way to fear. I refuse to allow feelings to determine the approach to my day. I refuse to allow darkness to overcome the light. I refuse to allow the way others are speaking and acting towards people with a different opinion to dictate how I will respond.
I find that Christians are remarkable at sharing what they've overcome in the past but struggle to share honestly about what God is in the midst of doing in present circumstances. When Peter was called out onto the water, the miracle was in the moment! There was no need to wait to be in awe of what God was doing because it was so evident with the first step of faith.
In this transitional time in our country's history, let us not wait to be in awe of what God is doing. Let us not miss what He is doing in the moment because of our focus, posture and position are downcast.
He is the same God, yesterday, today and tomorrow. He is sovereign. He is mighty to save. He is still in control, in charge and on the throne. He didn't need my opinion when He formed the earth, and He doesn't need my opinion now. What He needs, what He requires of me, is to show up, show love, show obedience and show Christ to a world that is desperately looking for someone to Hope in.
Let us stand, united, as One Nation under God, with the position and posture that is found through faith. Let us pick up our heads and run our race. Let us run with endurance the race that is marked out for us. Let us show kindness, concern for other and care about more than our own opinion. Rise up, pick up your head, and stand. God is faithful and He isn't through with me or you, yet.
Second Place
Today I experienced a new phase of motherhood, a championship game. High stakes, real trophies, not just participation awards. I felt the pressure the kids were experiencing and it made me want to step in and throw up for them. Crazy. You see this season, our seven year old son was somehow placed in error on the U-10 soccer roster. After showing up to try outs I started noticing that all of the boys were bigger and older than him. I wondered where all of his peers went this season and then kind of moved on to the next distracting thought on my to-do list and didn't think twice about it! Well, at least not until the first practice where it came back to me! Everyone was HUGE, tall, strong, fast and skilled. And we were, well, not.
Coach, I said, I think maybe we are here by mistake! After speaking with our coach, Noah and I realized that indeed he was the youngest on the team. After asking if we should leave the team and re-register, our coach encouraged Noah to stay. I explained to Noah that he would be the least experienced and the youngest on the team. He wasn't crazy about that idea. Then, I explained to him how much he could learn from those who had more experience but at the cost of maybe not as much playing time. He reluctantly agreed to stay.
Shortly there after we received a very detailed e-mail correspondence from the coach in regard to the systems he would be implementing and the practice schedule. Two practices a week. Oh vey. And, a fairly detailed points-to-badges system for the players efforts. Really? I just want to show up, practice, go home, Coach.
But, something happened. Week after week, I watched. I admired. I began to adore the way Coach DeFeo approached YMCA, U-10 boy's soccer with excellence. The type of excellence my parents paid several hundreds of dollars for me to be coached with on traveling teams growing up when I was playing soccer in high school.
I watched the passion of a father shine through as Coach DeFeo not only poured out for his own son but for all of our sons. A few weeks into the season, some parental grumblings began because not every player received a patch for their performance each week. The players knew the rubric for earning different patches and worked hard to achieve the points needed for different offensive, defensive, goals, assist and sportsmanship patches. Eventually, a disgruntled parent pushed back, and sent an e-mail to all of the parents on the team saying that they felt all children should receive a patch each game for showing up and participating. Though I understand the heart of that sentiment, I do not agree. I decided to reach out to the coach because too often, I feel as though if someone is doing something right or well, they may not hear about it.
Coach DeFeo,
Your approach with our soccer team has left a huge impression on me as a parent and an even bigger impression on our son. You strive for excellence not only in the sport but, in character development, and lifeskills that our children so desperately need in all areas of their life. I appreciate that you honor and recognize accomplishments through your patch system. It has helped shed light on the idea that “everybody wins just for showing up” is not beneficial after a certain age. And, in fact, I believe, becomes detrimental for a trophy that has no real value. Children understand this at a very young age. I’ve heard my child tell company at our home when they ask about his soccer trophies that, “Everybody gets one!”. What I have never heard him say is, “I worked hard, our team worked hard, and we earned this trophy!"
Your patch system is also helping our son to realize that if you don’t get a patch that disappointment is OK. It can become the fuel to ignite the extra push, the extra drive, that a “Trophy for All” could never teach. In addition, your players know you value them, you encourage them and I know that your patches are meaningful because they are earned. I also think it is helpful for young boys to start to find confidence in what they do well. You honor them by noticing what they do well instead just saying “Good game! See you next week.” You are fair, your are kind and you are consistent.
As a teacher, I understand that what YOU do is the path less travelled. I understand that you approach your volunteer job with excellence and as a true professional. I've noticed that what you do to strive for excellence, creates so much more WORK for you. Thank you for treating this YMCA soccer team with the passion, commitment and excellence that you do. By expecting and displaying excellence, your team will achieve it! You are believing them into being incredible soccer players.
As a mom of a son, I so appreciate your approach. My son, who I hope will grow up to be a hard working man and father, needs to know how to push harder towards his dreams, be coachable and strive for excellence. You are teaching these boys to show up, play hard, play clean and be encouraging to their teammates. When I heard that you were once again facing push back on your choices as I coach, I felt discouraged for you. But be encouraged, Coach, true leaders and difference makers in our world are the ones who become the catalyst for change and who take the path less travelled.
Thank you for caring enough about your son and all of the sons represented on the team to not take the easy road. You don’t just show up and go home. And, thankfully, that is teaching our sons to not just to show up and go home either. Many of these boys may not go on, for one reason or another, to play soccer for years and years. However, what they will take from this soccer season is more than a trophy for just showing up. Thank you and the other coaches on our team for striving to do things so very well.
We feel so fortunate that you are our coach. Know that your leadership extends further than to just the children you coach. People are watching and noticing how great of positive impact you are making!
Kindly,
Jenny
“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for man…” Colossians 3:23
Today, we took runner-up to the champions, but in my book, my child won. He won a season under the influence of a man who taught him to dream, to set goals and to work hard. For that, I am forever thankful. And, guess what, his runner-up medal, means something more than just showing up for the season.
Coach, I said, I think maybe we are here by mistake! After speaking with our coach, Noah and I realized that indeed he was the youngest on the team. After asking if we should leave the team and re-register, our coach encouraged Noah to stay. I explained to Noah that he would be the least experienced and the youngest on the team. He wasn't crazy about that idea. Then, I explained to him how much he could learn from those who had more experience but at the cost of maybe not as much playing time. He reluctantly agreed to stay.
Shortly there after we received a very detailed e-mail correspondence from the coach in regard to the systems he would be implementing and the practice schedule. Two practices a week. Oh vey. And, a fairly detailed points-to-badges system for the players efforts. Really? I just want to show up, practice, go home, Coach.
But, something happened. Week after week, I watched. I admired. I began to adore the way Coach DeFeo approached YMCA, U-10 boy's soccer with excellence. The type of excellence my parents paid several hundreds of dollars for me to be coached with on traveling teams growing up when I was playing soccer in high school.
I watched the passion of a father shine through as Coach DeFeo not only poured out for his own son but for all of our sons. A few weeks into the season, some parental grumblings began because not every player received a patch for their performance each week. The players knew the rubric for earning different patches and worked hard to achieve the points needed for different offensive, defensive, goals, assist and sportsmanship patches. Eventually, a disgruntled parent pushed back, and sent an e-mail to all of the parents on the team saying that they felt all children should receive a patch each game for showing up and participating. Though I understand the heart of that sentiment, I do not agree. I decided to reach out to the coach because too often, I feel as though if someone is doing something right or well, they may not hear about it.
Coach DeFeo,
Your approach with our soccer team has left a huge impression on me as a parent and an even bigger impression on our son. You strive for excellence not only in the sport but, in character development, and lifeskills that our children so desperately need in all areas of their life. I appreciate that you honor and recognize accomplishments through your patch system. It has helped shed light on the idea that “everybody wins just for showing up” is not beneficial after a certain age. And, in fact, I believe, becomes detrimental for a trophy that has no real value. Children understand this at a very young age. I’ve heard my child tell company at our home when they ask about his soccer trophies that, “Everybody gets one!”. What I have never heard him say is, “I worked hard, our team worked hard, and we earned this trophy!"
Your patch system is also helping our son to realize that if you don’t get a patch that disappointment is OK. It can become the fuel to ignite the extra push, the extra drive, that a “Trophy for All” could never teach. In addition, your players know you value them, you encourage them and I know that your patches are meaningful because they are earned. I also think it is helpful for young boys to start to find confidence in what they do well. You honor them by noticing what they do well instead just saying “Good game! See you next week.” You are fair, your are kind and you are consistent.
As a teacher, I understand that what YOU do is the path less travelled. I understand that you approach your volunteer job with excellence and as a true professional. I've noticed that what you do to strive for excellence, creates so much more WORK for you. Thank you for treating this YMCA soccer team with the passion, commitment and excellence that you do. By expecting and displaying excellence, your team will achieve it! You are believing them into being incredible soccer players.
As a mom of a son, I so appreciate your approach. My son, who I hope will grow up to be a hard working man and father, needs to know how to push harder towards his dreams, be coachable and strive for excellence. You are teaching these boys to show up, play hard, play clean and be encouraging to their teammates. When I heard that you were once again facing push back on your choices as I coach, I felt discouraged for you. But be encouraged, Coach, true leaders and difference makers in our world are the ones who become the catalyst for change and who take the path less travelled.
Thank you for caring enough about your son and all of the sons represented on the team to not take the easy road. You don’t just show up and go home. And, thankfully, that is teaching our sons to not just to show up and go home either. Many of these boys may not go on, for one reason or another, to play soccer for years and years. However, what they will take from this soccer season is more than a trophy for just showing up. Thank you and the other coaches on our team for striving to do things so very well.
We feel so fortunate that you are our coach. Know that your leadership extends further than to just the children you coach. People are watching and noticing how great of positive impact you are making!
Kindly,
Jenny
“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for man…” Colossians 3:23
Today, we took runner-up to the champions, but in my book, my child won. He won a season under the influence of a man who taught him to dream, to set goals and to work hard. For that, I am forever thankful. And, guess what, his runner-up medal, means something more than just showing up for the season.
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