I've started noticing a pattern in my life over the past few years. I've started realizing that somehow nearly every season feels like a busy season. Granted, each year has kind of a natural ebb and flow depending on what we have going on in ministry, and there absolutely are seasons that are more full and seasons that are less full. January-March is generally pretty busy as we gear up to send our high school students out on up to four different missions trips over spring break. May-July tends to be pretty packed with student transitions and summer camps. And September-November have the potential to fill up quick, since they are the months that we've been waiting for to do other retreats/ events that we didn't have time for in the summer. April is a breathing month. August is a breathing month. December is a breathing month. I look forward to those each year. Time to take a step back, to get organized, to plan ahead for the next season. But sometimes I find that I'm so tired (physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally) by the time those breaks come around, that I miss out on the opportunity to simply "enjoy life" during those months.

I can't blame it on ministry. I can't blame it on my job. I mean, I could, technically, but not really. Ministry can make for a very full life. But believe there's more to it than that. This is bigger than that. I think this comes down to how I do my job. How I live my life.

I slowly realized that my investment in relationships had slowly dwindled...when friends and I would try to make plans, I often said, "yes! Lets do it, maybe after _______________ when my life slows down a bit." And then I was tired. And things didn't really slow down.
I hate when people approach me or send me a Facebook message or plan a meeting with me and start their initial invitation with, "I know you're super busy, but..." That's tough to hear. Is that the impression I give? Because that certainly doesn't make me super approachable. Not to mention, I don't want to just be busy as a way of life. Sometimes in ministry there is an ongoing pressure to achieve, to perform, to be "doing" things in order to "seem" effective. Sometimes the pressure comes from others, but sometimes it simply comes from inside of me. The pressure I put on myself is often the heaviest to bear. Sometimes I feel stuck on a hamster wheel of yeses in my life, committing to things, agreeing to things, and then resenting ALL of those things for not LETTING me off the wheel that I'm CHOOSING to run on -- and I don't even LIKE running! Oh the irony. Welcome to my brain. Exhausting, I know. We're working on it (and when I say "we" I mean Jesus and me; He's doing the work, I'm cooperating)!

As this past summer was winding down and we looked ahead to the Fall, we started making plans and dreaming about all the things we could say yes to now that our "busy season" was wrapping up. An international missions trip, a retreat with our students, vacations, seminary for Michael, performing in a Country Music night, launching a big relationship/ sex series at our weekly high school gathering, and definitely slowing down were on the horizon for us. But for some reason it wasn't all adding up. We couldn't figure out how to make it all work. The slow season was beginning to feel ... not slow, already. Not to mention, we had just bought our first house over the summer and so renovation/ moving took up much of August - our other "breathing month."

Something's gotta change. Otherwise nothing will change.

One afternoon, Michael and I were in our weekly meeting (yes, we have weekly meetings. With each other. Even though we're married. Since we work together full time, we have to schedule meetings as well as dates). I can be a little emotionally inconsistent when it comes to schedule stuff. Sometimes I want to slash everything out of the calendar. Sometimes everything sounds fun and doable. On this particular day, Michael and I were doing the dance - the balancing, scheduling dance, trying to get on the same page about the next few months. In the moment, I was suggesting that we do some kind of Fall retreat with our students. I was suggesting adding another thing. I know, right? After all of that! Told you, I'm inconsistent sometimes. Michael looked at me and said something like, "Why is it that sometimes you want to add more to our schedule? And other times you don't want to add any more? I don't want to do one more thing." He had a point.

After processing lots of this with a good friend over some Panera, Michael and I went back to Panera (which is apparently a great processing place, specifically the outdoor patio on a nice day), and began asking some of the hard questions.
What if our busy season has become more than a season? 
Why does it feel like we are always in one? 
What can we do about it? 
How do we say yes to God in the ways He wants us to? 
How can we say no even to good things? 
If we say no to something as good as a mission trip, is that considered being disobedient to God? 

That was an important conversation for us to have. One that we'll probably revisit lots of times. For us in this season it meant saying no to the big mission trip so we could say yes to doing all of our already-committed-to, weekly ministry really intentionally and really well. It meant saying no to planning an extra student retreat so we could have say yes to a short getaway with our volunteer discipleship staff and invest extra deeply in them so that they feel encouraged and equipped as they invest in students.

I've been reading through Lisa Terkeurst's newest book, The Best Yes: Making Wise Decisions in the Midst of Endless Demands , and I've been challenged to think critically about the things I say YES to. In her book she quotes Louie Giglio who says, "Every time you say yes to something, there is less of you for something else. Make sure your yes is worth the less."

Growing up, my mom had a similar saying that always stuck with me, "Whenever you say yes to something, you are saying no to something else." You may not always be aware when you say yes, but because you said yes, it may mean that you have to say no to something else that comes along. Conversely, whenever you say no to something, you leave room and space and margin in your life to say yes when an opportunity arises. There is always an exchange. My wise mother also always used to compare life to a piece of notebook paper, the kind with margins. She likened it to writing a paper, leaving white space in the margins, so that if you need to add an idea or make an adjustment, you have space in the margin to do so. But if you write from edge-to-edge, using up every inch of that margin, editing, adding, or improving that writing becomes difficult. It gets messy. Margin is good. Space is good. A schedule that is not packed edge-to-edge is good.


There are seasons of my life where I feel like I'm doing a really good job at this. And other times where, all of a sudden, I realize that my "busy season" has become my normal. And there is less of me for so many good things. Less of me emotionally, mentally, physically, for people and tasks God has put in my life, and even less of me to really invest in my own walk with Jesus. I'm learning. I'm growing.

I'm still asking a lot of questions. The Lord has my attention and I truly, deeply, want to know more about what this looks like lived out. And it will change, again and again, but I want to keep asking those questions. I don't want to be the girl who is always in a busy season, I don't think that's what any us really crave. Living on purpose? Yes. Being willing and available? Yes. Living life for Jesus to the fullest? Yes. But busy? No.

I think whether you're in high school, college, working full-time, single, married, parenting, serving in ministry, or even retired, this is something we all wrestle with. It is, as Andy Stanley would say, "Not a problem to solve, but a tension to manage." I don't know that we will figure it out, once and for all, this side of Heaven. We live in the tension created by our schedules, our desires, our dreams, relationships, commitments, ambitions, and the mundane tasks of our lives. The give and take. The push and pull. And managing and surrendering and pressing in and stepping back works differently for each of us.

I don't believe there is a formula for exactly how this looks in everyone's life at all times. I wish it were that simple. I'm thankful for the Lord's grace in helping me navigate this, and for the friends and family who walk alongside me as I do.

But it's worth asking the question, no matter who you are, "Has my 'busy season' become more than a season?"

Why Your 20s Might be Surprisingly Lonely

Your 20s. "The best time of your life." Well, it can be. The season between age 20 and 30 is a rich one. A season packed with new experiences and an unprecedented amount of freedom compared to your pre-20s life. However, it is also season marked by a ridiculous amount of change, an abnormal amount of moving and temporary living spaces, increased responsibility, and bittersweet transitions within friendships as friends move away, enter new seasons of life, and actually have things do to besides just hang out (gotta love college)! *Big sigh.* Sometimes I've asked friends in their 30s and 40s, "Does life ever kind of level out and settle down a little? There is SO much that happens in your 20s." Most have reassured me that, yes, in many senses, life does settle a little in that there are probably not so many huge changes in such a short time span. In one decade people are moving out, getting jobs, chasing dreams, getting engaged, getting married, having babies, buying houses, moving away. Some at 21, some at 29, and lots in between. Our 20s seem so carefree when we're dreaming about them as wide-eyed, idealistic high school graduates. But we learn VERY quickly that within those ten years we lay some massively foundational building blocks that will impact the rest of our lives. I've had this reoccuring thought that sometimes, while embracing all the rich joys that come along with our 20s, we just need to call it what it is: crazy, difficult, and sometimes super lonely. Let me explain. 

On Instagram and Facebook, we know how to make life look GOOD in this decade of life. Fun spontaneous trips, hanging out with friends for days, none of us have really started "aging" so we make sure to document every lovely moment of our years in our "prime" (if that's even a thing). But there are so many moments, so many milestones, that would be less pleasant to post on a photo reel. The strangeness of moving out of your parents' house, then moving back in again at some point, then finally out again, this time maybe forever. Trying to find roommates and apartments and learning that not everyone lives like you and that bills are expensive and actually need to be paid. The feelings of being "left behind" when a best friend gets married and you're still single. The dreams of finding "the one." The devastation of a break up. The tension of being married and trying to cultivate friendships with other married couples while still trying to invest in all your other friendships. 

So often as I talk to young adults in my ministry and life - and reflect back on the past few years of my own life - a common struggle woven through many peoples' stories is the struggle of change and transition in friendships. Sometimes it just happens, for whatever reason, with almost no warning or acknowledgment. Distance. Loss of closeness. Months later you find yourself wondering why something is "off" and how it happened. But it DOES happen. Friends move away. We move away. Friends make new friends and we get left out, or we make new friends and leave others out. A friend gets married or gets a new job. Or we get married or enter a new seasons full of new relationships. There is a lot of celebrating the joys in the lives of others even if it stings because you wish your life was that great. You don't want to rob their joy by letting them see you sad. Conversely, other times it can feel like you have to become an expert in "joy-management" as you rejoice over something in your life that you know a friend is desperately longing for and praying for in their own. You feel guilty being excited around them. Friendships go both ways. I've found that sometimes it is better, in the words of Shauna Niequist, simply to "say something." Acknowledge that something has affected the way you do life together as friends. Rather than make it anyone's fault, make room for a conversation about how life and transition in our 20s is crazy and tricky for all of us. Build a bridge, not a wall. 

Also, is there any other decade where people can be in SO many different seasons in one 10-year span of life?! I mean, really. College, part-time jobs, internships, grad school, single, engaged, married, working full time, having babies, renting apartments, living with parents, buying houses, travelling the world. Sidenote: in the past 8 years of my life, I have moved at least 13 times! Hello. Unnatural. But the reality for so many of us.

No longer are we simply friends with people because they are in the same grade as us. When I was in fifth grade, I was typically friends with fifth graders. Not so in your 20s. All of a sudden, friendships revolve largely around "season of life." In college, at least if you live on campus at a Christian college like I did, community is kind of handed to you on a shiny silver platter. Dorm life is amazing. Hanging out all day, every day, living together, sharing nearly all waking moments with people you love seems almost too good to be true. Because it kind of is. When I moved off campus for the first time and then graduated two years later, I realized that true community - in "normal life" - takes a heck of a lot of work and effort. My best friend and I roomed together our freshmen and sophomore year at Corban, and once we stopped living together we lamented about how we actually had to text each other or plan coffee dates to hang out. It sounds silly but at the time it was a big adjustment! Investing in our friendship was easy when we shared a room for two years, but now it takes a different kind of investment. 

It's not that community isn't possible as you get older, it REALLY, TRULY is! It just won't happen on accident. Sometimes the last thing I want to do on a Monday night is go to our community group, if I'm tired or stressed or had a hard day (that's a true life confession, because we're the leaders of the group). But every single time I show up on Monday nights, I leave with the assurance that that was absolutely the best place for me to spend those few hours. Especially if I arrived feeling tired, especially if I arrived feeling burdened or lonely. 

I've noticed in my own life and in the lives of those around me that everyone in their 20s is facing a unique set of challenges. Asking hard questions. Who are my people? What do I really want to do with my life? What does God want me to do with my life? How am I going to make this all work? How can I pursue my dreams AND go to school? How will I pay for it all? How do I cultivate my friendships with those who are in a different season of life than me? For me, it is easy to slip into a lonely mindset. A mindset that is dangerous and untrue but that goes something like this in my head... that maybe I don't really fit with anyone in any of the seasons. I'm not in college so I don't quite fit with all the cool college people anymore... but I'm married so I'm in a different spot than my single friends and maybe they think I'm so busy being "married" so they don't ask me to hang out ... but I don't hang out a ton with married people because I minister to a lot of single people ... but I don't have babies so I'm in a different spot than my friends with babies. 

Michael laughs at/ with me sometimes because, if I hear of an event or a gathering that was planned but that I wasn't invited to, I'll get sad and tell him how I'm feeling. So often in his sweet way he'll say, "Well I'm sure we could show up anyway, do you want to go?" And I'll respond, "Of course not, I'm too tired! I just wanted to be invited!" Is that just a me thing? Or a girl thing? I know, I can be ridiculous sometimes. But I think maybe at least one other person can relate. I hope. As I've worked through some of my own feelings of isolation and loneliness, I've chosen to believe that I'm not the only one. No matter what season we're in, maybe we've all bought into the lie a little bit that no one is going through what we're going through. The lie that no one understands where we're at. Perhaps understanding that reality in our own lives and allowing it to help us see others with compassion, rather than envy, is exactly what we need. 

The feelings of loneliness that we all wrestle with at times can either build walls between us and others or build bridges. Let's choose bridges. Let's press in and have conversations and invite each other to be honest. Instead of being discouraged and resentful about all of the people who aren't asking us to hang out, let's be the ones who decide to reach out. Even if its awkward. Even if we wish someone else would initiate. All of us are hungry for true, meaningful relationships. But it won't happen on accident. We won't wake up when we're 30 and think, "How in the world did my friendships get so deep and meaningful?" It will take work. It will require transparency. It will require humility. 

Let's not settle for doing this decade alone. We need each other, and I think others need us. 

"And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near." 
Hebrews 10:24-25

Redeeming Mondays {devotional thoughts on Psalm 34:8-10}

In 2013 I launched a new blog, with the well-meaning goal of writing/ blogging more. I don't want to say that I failed, but the amount of times I actually blogged were few and far between. As I approached 2014, I knew that writing was something I wanted to do more of, but wasn't sure how to be consistent, wasn't sure what to write about, or why I even wanted to.

 So here is my small goal: to write one "devotional" each Monday. I'll call these "redeeming Mondays." Sometimes I'm tired when Monday rolls around, and I want to give myself something to really press into and look forward to. So with no real system in mind, the plan is simply to start by writing short devotionals on some of my beloved, very favorite passages of Scripture. I NEED to process and dig in to Scripture for my own walk with Jesus, and I believe that it is not outside of the realm of possibility that each weekly Scripture might bless, challenge, or encourage someone else. 

Week 1 {Psalm 34:8-10} 

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good!

    Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!

9 

Oh, fear the Lord, you his saints,

    for those who fear him have no lack!

10 

The young lions suffer want and hunger;

    but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.

I'm not opposed to new year's resolutions and goals; Michael and I have several that we're praying through and working toward in the coming year. But sometimes, for me, the temptation is to get so wrapped up in the goals and the "what I don't have yet," that I forget the "what is." I'm not wrapped up ENOUGH in the "what I have," in the "who I already am." Not in a selfish way. Rather, in a grateful, contented way. There is SO much to look forward to in this life, yet there is SO MUCH GOOD TODAY. I am challenging myself to remember that, while Jesus is daily transforming me and helping me become the version of myself HE desires me to be, He has placed HIS goodness and gifts in and around me this very day. 

In the midst of all that I'm looking to, dreaming about, praying about - in my marriage, my ministry, my plans - I WANT to remember that, in my seeking Jesus, "I lack no good thing." I have all I need for this very day, this very moment, as I LOOK TO HIM. 

Seeking the Lord is the key to unlocking my understanding and belief that I HAVE EVERY GOOD THING. Does this mean that there is not more in store for my life than what I have right now? No. But it means that I can relish the fact that in tasting and seeing God's goodness, in fearing Him, and seeking Him, I get to live in the reality that I lack NO good thing. 

Does this mean that my life is without disappointments or struggles either? No. I love how John Piper describes this tension: “Life is not a straight line leading from one blessing to the next and then finally to heaven. Life is a winding and troubled road. Switchback after switchback. And the point of biblical stories like Joseph and Job and Esther and Ruth is to help us feel in our bones (not just know in our heads) that God is for us in all these strange turns. God is not just showing up after the trouble and cleaning it up. He is plotting the course and managing the troubles with far-reaching purposes for our good and for the glory of Jesus Christ" (from his book A Sweet and Bitter Providence: Sex, Race, and the Sovereignty of God.) 

It is IN JESUS that we have every good thing. This is not a hollow, cheap promise that "life" will give us every good thing. Let me be clear. It is in LOOKING TO THE LORD that we lack no good thing. Physically, emotionally, mentally, socially, financially, relationally, we may see evidences or traces of "lack" in the earthly sense. But the bigger picture here is that what is TRULY good, what we TRULY need, the Lord Himself, we have all of at all times. 

The truth and reality is this: 

"And God is ABLE to make ALL GRACE abound to you, so that having ALL SUFFICIENCY in ALL THINGS at ALL TIMES, you may abound in every good work." 

{2 Corinthians 9:8, ESV} 

Whatever it is that you're hoping for, dreaming of, striving for, praying for in this coming year, commit to remembering the truth and promise that in seeking the Lord, you lack no good thing. Let that reality transform the WAY you pray, the way you wait, and the way you hope. Praying Jesus transforms me in this.