Expecting

No, I am not pregnant. But I got your attention, no?

I have been mulling over the concept of Hope. It is a word we use all the time. We say things like, "I hope dinner tastes good" or "I hope we can make it on time" but with many words in the English language, I think we cheapen this profound word.

Hope: To believe in, to desire, to trust. The dictionary definition for hope says it is to have the feeling that what is wanted can be had.

But let me be very earnest and frank for a minute. I struggle with Hope. Hope for me is admitting both in my heart and aloud that something means more to me than I even realize. For me, it is coming clean that my emotions and expectations are involved to the point that I could very well be setting myself up for disappointment. Hope for me is frightening. It makes me feel out of control and option-less. I feel vulnerable, like if I admit to myself my true hearts desire and it does not come about, I am left to pick up the pieces and I have never been very good at that.

Am I alone? I doubt it. We pray as though we have very little hope. We approach The Throne of the Almighty cautiously, afraid that if we ask for what we truly want, and if we let ourselves believe in the possibility, we might be left devastated, afraid that our faith will be shaken.

But what if, for a minute, we were able to pray expecting results. What if we were able to come before God and reveal our struggles? What if, instead of praying with a timid spirit, we came before God ready and willing to come clean, make our hearts desire known and then with great expectancy, we waited for Him to move on our behalf.

I have been walking with the Lord since I was five years old. My relationship with God has matured and deepened. I have never wavered, but I have struggled with doubt and fear. Yet, in my twenty-one years of walking with God, I think this might be the first time that I am having a break through about my prayer life. I am starting to see that I equate answered prayers with what God does for us in the physical realm.

Don't let that statement go misunderstood. I believe with my whole heart that God answers our prayers in a physical and tangible way. But, I think I am finally getting to the root of what it means to place our Hope in God.

What if, instead of praying about a specific situation and expecting or hoping for a specific answer, we instead began to place our requests in God's hands and hope in a Never Changing God. What if our Hope lies more in God's character than in what He can do for us? What if we began to pray for specific events with the Hope or expectancy that God is faithful, or kind, or gentle? What if we pray expecting God's character to never change, and we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and honest with a God who promises to, "Preserve those who are true to Him" (Psalm 31:23)

I think my prayer life and my relationship with God has just changed, dramatically. I still have a list of requests for God. I still have very specific desires that I bring before The Throne, but my Hope lies more in what I know about God than in the way He answers my requests. Hope has more to do with remembering WHO God is than in what He can do for you.

Romans 5:1-5
"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into his grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so but we also glory in our suffering, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us."

Choosing Joy

I recently listened to a Joyce Meyer (LOVE her) podcast about Joy. The message is titled “Give Yourself Permission to Enjoy Life.” It was one of those messages that hit me square between the eyes. I was on the elliptical while listening to the message. I ran quicker than I usually do (which isn't saying much).  I hopped off and drove home as fast as possible - I had to take notes. 

I encourage you to listen to her message, however, it was more about what was happening inside my heart as I heard her preach that is worthy of being shared. The entire point of her message was learning to live a joy filled life, while also using joy as a weapon against the devil, who wants you to be joy-less. 

I had never stopped to consider the idea that the Joy of the Lord is actually a weapon that we can use to defend ourselves against the devil and his plans for destruction and despair. 

I have to confess that I have been avoiding blogging lately because I find myself walking around rather deflated. My battle to live the life that God has called me to and my desire to be living a different life right now is conflicting. I have been doing everything in my power to avoid facing those feelings, which has resulted in a lot of mindless TV watching, lots of re-pins on Pinterest, and early bedtimes. Comfort on multiple levels has been my security blanket because the truth is I am hurting. I know in my heart I have taken the desire to have a family and shifted it to my one and only goal in life. I have made it into something much more glamorous, and the only thing that will really ever fulfill me. 

And yet, the still small voice inside of me, when I allow myself to listen to it, reminds me that HE is enough, that HE alone fulfills me. 

It is a part of our culture to hark on the "if only..." or "if this happened, than I would...."  We think that if we could only land the perfect job, or bigger house, or better body our lives would instantly get better. For me, I have always thought that skinny people are happier because what's to hate if you are skinny? I figured if you are skinny, you can buy whatever you want and look cute. Guys would automatically want to date you if you were fine-boned. But, I have met some really unhappy thin people. For a long time, when things didn't go right for me, I figured that being thin would solve all my problems. This has resulted in a lot of self-loathing, horribly unhealthy magic diets, and work out programs that were never realistic. I still struggle with that mindset. I think a lot of us do. 

But, I was reminded this week that God wants us to live the life He has called us to live. Self-loathing, pity, depression, anxiety, frustration and fear are all a part of the devil’s plans to get us off track and to make us lose focus. 

John 10:10 says, “The thief comes to only to steal, and to kill, and to destroy; I come that they may have life and have it to the full.” 

Over this past week, I have taken some time to step back and assess what it is that I need to be doing to not numb my pain and ignore my frustration. Here is what I have found:

1. Spend time with the Lord. Everyday. No matter how busy I get.

2. Read God's Word. It is a Living Word and He uses it to speak directly to us.

3. Pray. Pray for your own situations and pray for others. Taking time to pray for your own life allows you to recognize what you need to let God take control of. Praying for others helps us take our eyes off of ourselves!

4. Expect God to hear and answer your prayers. Assuming He won't is not practicing trust or hopefulness, and it doesn't allow the Power of God to rule in your life or the lives of others.

5. Find ways to bless others. It really lifts your spirits to know you have blessed someone, and it of course blesses them.

6. Get off your duff and do something. Mind numbing activities do not pull you out of slumps; they only perpetuate the situation. 

7. Do what you know makes your body feel better. Eating right and being active help combat the blues from the inside out.

8. Share your struggles with someone who will listen to you. Being heard, with no input on how to fix your problems, helps so much.

These are the 8 things I am focusing on right now. I don't want to squander the life God has for me right now. My life isn't simply about the big life altering moments (like having a baby).  It is about being faithful on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday....well, you get it. It is about letting God rule in my heart and being proactive when it comes to choosing Joy. 

What can you do to proactively choose Joy this week?

Open Hands, Open Heart.

I am learning to give myself a break. I am attempting to be less apologetic for the way that I feel and more forgiving of my own shortcomings. Blogging, for example, is something that in times past has offered me comfort and peace, but recently it has overwhelmed me. I needed a break. Allowing myself that break, without regret, has brought about some time to think, pray, and deal with my feelings more privately. But I think it is time to share a little bit of what God is doing in my life, in my heart, and in my mind.

Open Hands, Open Heart.

I struggle with being open.  Sharing my feelings and thoughts is frightening to me. It is private and intimate. When I started my blog, I had no idea what God would call me to write about. I felt like he was doing so much in my life that I needed an avenue to process and share my feelings. When life got harder, and I got sicker, I needed my blog. I needed to see something good come from it, and I did. I heard from many friends and some complete strangers that connected with what I had to say. It was encouraging and it gave meaning to my suffering. Even though it was frightening to be so transparent in cyberspace, it was completely necessary.

But now, I am not really sure what to say. The truth of the matter is, I am a little miffed that everything I spent my days in the hospital dreaming of has not happened yet. I am not pregnant. Everyone around me is pregnant. But I am not.

I am a planner. I love day dreaming about what my life will end up being like. I have names picked out for potential children (2 boys and 2 girls) and potential new pets. I have a constant "to-do-list" of renovations I would love to do to make our home even more inviting. I have lists upon lists of books I want to read, TV shows I intend to watch, and blogs that I should follow. I make menu lists for the week and shop accordingly. Planning is in my blood and I love it.

So the question I have been asking myself lately is, "What happens when LIFE doesn't go according to plan?"

I think the thing that surprises me over and over again about myself is that I know with so much certainty in my heart that God has a different plan than I do. I have seen his plans unfold in my life and although they rarely match up to my idea of how life should go, in the end they always turn out so much differently, much more perfectly. I wonder, however, how much heartache I could have been spared if I could have learned earlier on to sit back and let God unfold his plan for my life.

My addiction to over-planning came through strongest in my dating life. I learned some hard lessons through terrible breakups, horribly matched prospects, and immature boyfriends. I was quick to be what I thought a good potential wife looked like to prove myself desirable. But God had a different plan. Thank the Lord. I often find myself thinking about what my life would have been like it God had answered my college prayers. I am thankful he did not. Yet, if I am completely honest with myself, I knew all along that God was telling me "No, he isn't for you. Wait...you won't believe what a great man I have in store for you."

People always say that they have no regrets in life. I don't really agree with that statement. Yes, I believe that everything in our lives shapes and molds us into the people that we are. And yes, I also believe that I learned some invaluable lessons along the way. However, it is a sobering thought to realize that if I could only learn to fine tune my ears to listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit and allow God to direct my paths, my life would look a lot differently, my story less broken and tattered. When I got married, I had my whole heart to give to Josh, but I would have loved to know in my heart that I waited more patiently and that I trusted God's judgment more wholly.

So now, as each month passes and a new cycle starts, as I hear of more friends getting pregnant everyday, as invitations to baby showers pop up in the mailbox, and meals are made for new moms, I am trying my hardest to listen to the very heart beat of God as He reminds me at every corner that HE is in control. I sit with open hands and an open heart and give over control to God. I am reminded in Isaiah 55:8, "My thoughts are not your thoughts, and My ways are not your ways."

"I will say to the Lord, My refuge and my fortress, My God, in whom I trust!" Psalm 91:2

Lazy Summer Days.

Sometimes I feel like I have the memory of a goldfish. I move from day to day sort of absent-mindedly, without a lot of intention. Wake up, shower, go to work, go to the gym, come home, eat dinner, and go to bed. Repeat.

I am becoming more and more aware of my lack of focus lately. I think that summer plays a role in my lackadaisical attitude, but I also think that my mindset is not what it should be right now. I have written several times in the last few weeks, but after spending an hour or so writing a blog, I read it, sigh, save it under the belief that one should never delete their work, no matter how bad it is, and close my laptop. My thoughts are not coherent and I feel like my general feelings towards life lately are not either. I tell you this in hopes that I can push through and touch on the lesson I feel God is really trying to teach me right now.

I have lost my JOY. I feel like I go about everyday doing what needs to be done, but lacking purpose. I am tired and often times foggy in my thinking. I lack the luster for life that someone living in the Abundant Life of Jesus Christ should be living.

There are certainly times in my life where emotions are raw and I have my thumb on the very pulse of my life. In times of grave sorrow or euphoric joy, I know what I am feeling and I know why I am feeling a certain way. I like those moments, even the sad ones, because I know exactly what I am thinking and how I am feeling. The times that are harder for me are the times where my feelings are blasé. There are times where I feel like I haven’t a clue why I am not feeling anything. This past month has been one of those months for me.

I have come to the conclusion that my lack of feelings and emotion stems from my lack of ability to remember- to recall what God has done for me and where he is leading me.

I think I live in the highs and lows of life. I love the anticipation of a big event. I count down to my birthday every single year with anticipation of what a day centered around celebration will bring. The days between Christmas and New Years are always my favorite because the constant state of celebration brings me excitement for what is to come. I love the parties and the time spent with friends and family.

And even in the harder times in life, I feel myself drawing closer to God and to my family. In a strange way, I appreciate feeling that sense of utter dependency on God to provide for my needs and to comfort my heart. I don’t love pain, in a sick way, but I have come to appreciate the amount of growth that I know takes place inside of my heart in the dips of life.   

Yet, I am finally figuring out that I don’t do well in the middle of life when everything seems to be going okay and nothing big is happening. I think I slump into a state of apathy in the middle and it takes something big for me to be able to feel something again.

A wise friend once warned me what a grave sin is it is to forget what God has done for us, be it in the good or the bad times, the celebratory or the devastating times in life. I couldn’t agree more, and yet, in the middle of the summer, the middle of July, and the middle of the country, I am feeling stuck in the middle.

My aversion to all things middle started when I was little. I hate sitting in the middle seat of a car, never certain which way I should let my legs fall and always paranoid that my legs will get sticky all squished against someone else. I hate sitting in the middle of the aisle at church because I am always worried I will have to get up and go use the restroom in the middle of the service and trip over someone’s purse or legs. I hate the middle of a book (especially one with a great plot) because I am hooked by the first few chapters, but then I also have no closure and am stuck daydreaming about possible endings until I finally just give in and read the rest of the book. I am middle child. I am not nearly as smart as my older brother, but also not as loveable as my younger brothers. I have heard countless sermons that refer to the middle child in a way that reminds me, we are never anyone’s favorite.

Lately, I am learning the importance of doing what God is calling me to do, even when I do not feel like it. I tend to cling to God in the rocky and hard places. I give praise and adoration to God when something wonderful happens and joy comes easily. Yet, when I am stuck in the middle, my prayers are short, my heart is less content, and I lack the focus that a follower of Christ should have.  I am learning that in this season of life, sometimes we have to put in the work, even when we feel like letting ourselves be lazy. We have to exercise our spiritual muscles even when we would rather watch mindless episodes of the Bachelorette.

So, I am pulling myself out of this slump. I am praying harder. I am studying God’s Word because that’s what I am called to do. I am going to remember every single day to be “Confident of this, that He who began a good work in me will carry it out until completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6.

A Still Small Voice

A nudge. 

A gut feeling.  

Something beckoning. 

A whisper deep within your soul that only you can hear. 

A still small voice. 

That is what I experienced this Sunday while sitting in church. I tried desperately to ignore it. I tried to reason with God and make excuses as to why what he was asking me to do was strange, awkward, and not appropriate. However, He didn't stop. He continued to nudge me and push me out of my seat to do the unthinkable:

Hug a complete stranger.

Gasp. NO! How unreasonable! What a complete fool you must have made of yourself reaching over to hug a total stranger. Here is how the situation unfolded...

We made plans with Josh's dad to attend Willow Creek on Sunday. Willow does a fantastic job of celebrating Father's Day with the true heart of a father in mind- a car show, and FREE HOT DOGS & RIBS. What dad wouldn't want to go to Dad Fest? We arrived early and chatted for a bit before grabbing our seats in the sanctuary. The service was delayed 15 minutes so that the early risers from the previous service could enjoy Dad Fest and those of us who struggle to make it to the 11:15 service could find a parking space. We waltzed in and to our surprise, the section we always sit in was pretty full. We managed to find a few seats in the back row and slipped into the center of the row. 

Sitting in a seat next to a stranger is always a little uncomfortable, so when we started to shuffle into the row, the woman (the one I would later be asked to hug) sitting next to me slid down to allow the always appreciated extra chair between us. We were both allowed our own arm space, as the service started. 

I always think about friends and family members on holidays, especially holidays that celebrate our parents. I pray for those without a parent because I know that those holidays have to be especially hard. Our pastor recognized that void as well in the service by asking those who were fatherless, either by death or by an estranged relationship, to stand up. He offered comforting words of encouragement and sympathy to the crowd of standing church-goers. 

That is exactly when my heart started thumping. I could feel the sweat start forming on the palms of my hands as the woman sitting next to me and her daughter rose solemnly.

I had been watching her and her daughter out of the corner of my eye the entire service. The mother held a headset tuned into the Chinese interpreter, but the daughter listened to the service in English. They shared a Chinese Bible, leading me to believe that the daughter may have learned English as her second language. All of this observation only added to my laundry list of reasons as to why I should keep my hands to myself. 

As the woman and her daughter stood to be honored among the fatherless, I felt the urge to reach over and touch her hand. I felt that feeling deep inside of my soul that beckons to you to show love and kindness to those hurting. I ignored it.

I heard the sniffles to my left. I decided that praying for the woman and her daughter would be better than reaching over and physically showing her I cared. However, I still felt that pull in my heart to physically reach out and offer her comfort. I ignored it. 

I told the voice that it would be uncomfortable for me, but mostly for her! She might not understand what I was doing, but inside I knew that a gentle touch translates as kindness in any language. I reasoned that she had moved down a chair because she didn't want to have a total stranger in her personal space but on the inside I knew that no matter what reason I gave, I was still ignoring the prompting of the Holy Spirit. 

Everyone sat down and the service was drawing to an end. I felt the Spirit's prompting again to reach over and place my hand on her hand. She was still crying. I ignored it.

The service was ending as we all rose to be dismissed. I was still trying to figure out how to sort of obey without actually having to physically obey. Our pastor was in the middle of dismissing us when he added a bit of a P.S. to his benediction by saying, "If someone around you stood because they are fatherless, please give them a hug and let them know how sorry you are for them today." It hit me like a lightning bolt. Was he talking to me? Did know the battle I was facing inside? I took a deep breath, turned to my left and touched the woman's arm. She turned to me and with open arms received a warm embrace from me. Her daughter also turned and allowed me to hug her as well. 

Relief washed over me. I had finally obeyed. I don't know that a hug from a total stranger changed her or her daughter. I seriously doubt it. However, I think it changed me. I was reminded that obedience, no matter how strange or silly it makes us feel, is what we are called to. I am more than slightly embarrassed to relive the details of that event with my readers because, to be quite frank, I would like to think that I am much more willing to follow the prompting of the Holy Spirit. In my own walk with the Lord, this event served as a huge reminder to me that no matter how uncomfortable I am feeling, I need to be ready and willing to do as God asks me.

I had a long talk with God later that evening as I thought about my actions that day. I asked for forgiveness because, even though I obeyed in the end, it should never take that long for me to listen. I want God to trust me with the big things in life and I want to be constantly ready and willing to do His will. However, in order to be trusted with the big things, I need to prove faithful in the small things. 

So, from here on out, I hug whoever God tells me to hug.

In A Flash

Yesterday morning, I was reminded how delicate and finite life really is. I logged onto Facebook, as is my morning routine, to peruse the status updates of 911 of my closest friends. I saw countless updates about a sweet friend of our family. I was a bit confused as to what the statuses were referring to, but I could tell that something tragic had happened in their family. I quickly got off of Facebook to phone my mom thinking that she might know what had happened. She hung up with me and called her dear friend (the auntie of the family) to check in and see if everything was okay. She called me back within minutes to confirm my suspicions that something devastating had happened- the sweet little two year old had been found in the Jacuzzi at a party and passed away. 

This news rocked me. It was one of those defining moments for me where the phrases so oftentimes thrown around made all too much sense, "Life is short."  Too short. That sweet little girl was snatched from earth in a moment that left everyone here asking those deep and often times unanswerable questions. Why? What is God's plan in this situation?

I am honestly not really sure how to wrap my brain around situations like this. Situations like this are earth shattering and they tend to rock us to our very core. Yet in the midst of our pain and suffering, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is in control. It is a fine balance between asking those questions and placing trust in an all knowing and all powerful God. 

I awoke this morning with the the hymn Great is Thy Faithfulness in my heart- the phrase, "Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow" has played over and over again in my mind as I think of our sweet friends and the pain they are feeling today. I think that when we remember that God pulls us through the pain of today with the hope of tomorrow, we are able to gain some perspective and our questions, although not answered, are left with a hint of hope for what God is going to do in our lives. Strength for today...bright hope for tomorrow...No matter how dark today is. No matter how much pain you are in right now- there is HOPE. 

In the midst of the pain, I am choosing to take away from this devastatingly sad situation the reminder that life is fragile and that we have to seek to live everyday to the fullest. Tomorrow is not a promise. Go for a walk with someone you love, call up an old friend, make a mends with a family member that you are fighting with. Chances are, when your life is up, you won't be sitting there wishing you kept a cleaner house, or that you did the dishes more often. Beds can be left unmade, towels unfolded. Spend time with those you love and hit the pillow at night positive that you live everyday to the fullest. It is so much more satisfactory than checking off another "To Do List" item. Life is short, so make memories. Let things go quickly so that the hardships of life don't bog you down. Be ready to go at a moments notice...

I guess that living in the moment is really a part of embracing joy, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Dominican Republic 2010 

I Don't Make Guacamole

I do not make guacamole. I don't have some famous recipe passed down from generation to generation of Soltero homemakers. I love the delicious green paste as much as the next person, however, I have never made it...

Well, I guess one time I did. One time when my sweet father-in-law with the best of intentions tried to make me feel more "at home" by supplying the ingredients for me to whip up some delicious combination of avocado, cilantro, onion, and lime. It was disastrous, a horrible consistency of pale green mush that lacked flavor and and substance. It was runny and gross. Everyone pretended to like it, but I knew it wasn't good.  

I don't make guacamole. I don't do so, not because I am incapable, as I am sure I could Google some great recipe and run to the store for the ingredients. I could work at it unit it was perfected and proudly announce to all my guests that it I was serving my world famous "GUAC" (as my Midwestern guests would call it). But I don't. People love guacamole. Americans eat 53.3 million pounds of the stuff on Super Bowl Sunday! That is enough guacamole to coat a football field 20 feet deep. Gross. But I don't make it. 

Why? I have been asking myself that question for the last year. Maybe because people expect me to. The assumption that a Mexican homemaker who has mastered the art of beans, rice, and chile con carne should probably know how to make guacamole. But I refuse to do so, because I don't like the indication that I SHOULD do something. 

I have been battling the idea of others expectations for the past few weeks. The kick off to our summer has been overwhelmingly busy, having already shoved a wedding, two out of state graduations, a few barbeques, and house guests into the first few weeks. We are tired and our laundry could honestly revolt on us and take over our house in the next few days. We have loved every minute of it, but sometimes I wonder if we fail to say NO to something because of other's expectations of us. 

I was talking to a sweet friend on my drive home the other day. I had been thinking about her for a few days, but managed to hit the pillow every night failing to call her. I finally did so and we chatted for a bit. She confided in me with her feelings of inadequacy and wondering when life would change for her. I know that those feelings are by no means unique to her.  We all struggle with them, but the pain was very real and fresh as she reflected on her lack of relationship status in comparison to the Memorial holiday. I felt for her. I know the chagrin of being asked "if there was anyone special". Usually I would quote Miranda from Sex and the City and say that, "No, indeed there were just loads and loads of really average and not special guys".  My witty response usually deflected some of the kind, but unnecessary pitiful responses that well meaning friends would say, like "he is right around the corner" or "just when you stop looking..." as if I could ever STOP looking. But the pain was always there, just below the surface.

I wonder however, how much of our feelings of inadequacy and overall lack of luster for the place we are in life stems from letting other people define our lives. My friend is a strong independent woman. She works hard, establishing herself in a career she loves and is invested in. She changes lives on a daily basis always putting others interests above her own. She is an active member of her church and she is always there for her friends and family. Oh, and she is deliriously beautiful, on the inside and the outside. I am certainly not saying that her desire to share her life with someone special is wrong or even out of place. However, I wonder how much of what she is feeling (and me for that matter) has more to do with looking around and wanting what others have as opposed to being content with where God has her. I also wonder how much of what we do is impacted by what we view as the next step...

How often do we allow others to impact what we do and how we do it? I know that for myself, if I am truthful, it is a daily struggle. I have been asking myself a lot lately if I am pursuing something God wants for me or if my desires are shaped by others' expectations of me. I am working on letting God define me, and not others. I am constantly checking my motives. I want to be molded and shaped into a woman after God's own heart. 

So, for now, despite being given a mortar and pestle for Christmas this past year, I don't make guacamole. 

What is your guacamole?