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calling

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Sit on a Mountain.

Recently (like last weekend), I had a Presbytery meeting in Greeley, Colorado.  & For months Tommy and I talked about wanting to take Delle with us to Colorado, stay a few days after my meetings and spend some time celebrating Delle’s 3rd birthday.  Every time we looked, tickets were too expensive and so eventually we moved on from it. Until… this procrastinator looked online at tickets a WEEK before I was planning on leaving; $130 round trip, direct flight to Denver. Boom.  We got back on plan A and decided to take Delle to Colorado with us.

Honestly, I could go on and on about how amazing of a trip this was and how there was something so sweet about spending some one on one time with Delle.  But for the sake of this being way too long of a post about how much I am obsessed with my daughter, I’ll spare you the details.

But here’s what cracked me up during our trip; all Delle wanted to do in Colorado was to go find a mountain… and SIT ON IT.

It was the weirdest thing.  & for the life of me, I cannot figure out where she got this from.  But she was obsessed. Really… like every mountain we saw; she wanted to SIT on it.

Tommy and I died laughing over and over again when Delle would see a mountain, point to it, and say, “I want to go sit on it.” Where she got this, I have no idea. But she was convinced that we needed to find a mountain, climb it, and then SIT on it.

Here’s the kicker/lesson/reason I’m writing about this… my knee jerk answer was to say, “No Delle, you can’t sit on the mountain- It’s too high, too long of a hike, too big.” Or correct her- “No Delle, we don’t SIT on mountains, we just climb them.”

So, what’s the point (or really why on earth am I telling you this story)?

>>> Because, I want Delle’s bravery. <<<

The bravery to see something big and beautiful and want to go after it.  To accomplish it. To embrace it. And not just that… but SIT ON IT.  Embrace it. Live on it, rest in it.

& that’s not a word you hear much these days… REST. But sitting involves rest. It involves taking in a moment, experience, or accomplishment.  So I desire to SIT, to rest in the accomplishments I’ve made and be brave enough to go after more.

And I want this not just for me but for my daughters as well.

To encourage them to dream and to dream big, impossible things… not just the things that are easy, accepted, or normal.

In fact, I don’t want them to be or live normal, easy lives.  Actually that was a lie.  Yes, I do deep down in my heart, want their lives to be easy and normal. I want to protect them, put them in a bubble so no one will ever disappoint, hurt, embarrass, or discourage them.

But more than that deep desire to protect, I have a piercing passion for them to love the Lord with the kind of love that cannot be contained, understood, or quenched.

The kind of love that embraces a challenge.  The kind of love that is so brave and aware that when God says “Go,” they Go.  When God says “Climb,” they climb. And when God says “Sit,” they sit.

Bravery.  It’s not easy.  It’s terrifying.   And it’s the most exciting adventure you (or those you love most) can embark upon.

So, the point and my challenge… to go sit on a quickbustenhancement mountain.

That’s all. Now seriously… go SIT.

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Losing the Weight.

Last week I had one of those “ah ha” moments.

I was quietly sitting at my cozy little desk working on a sermon I had coming up.  Hagen was napping. Delle was quietly playing with her princesses on my bed.  It was one of those once in a million, totally quiet moments in the house. It was glorious.

Then, out of the blue, Delle crawls up on my lap, snuggles, and began asking a MILLION questions about what I was doing on my computer.  Honestly, my first reaction was to be little annoyed… I was trying to finish up a few last minute touches on my sermon and really needed about 10 more minutes of total (uninterrupted silence).  But then a still voice whispered to me.  It reminded me to include Delle, to explain to her, to open up to her all that I’m doing.

And so, I did.

I explained to Delle what I would be teaching on.  Who I was teaching to and why I felt it was important.  And as I was explaining all of this to my little wide-eyes, princess crown wearing three-year-old… It hit me; these are the moments.

These are the moments to soak in. To readjust your plan. To let your three-year-old into your world for just a moment.

That sweet moment quickly left and was filled with questions mostly revolving around how to press keys on the computer and why Delle wasn’t allowed to do so.

But for those few, precious minutes I had a conversation with Delle (which is still crazy in and of itself) about what I do for my job, about why I believe it’s important, and how I am sharing the gospel to those who need it.  I was allowing Delle to be a part of my journey, my job, my mission.

The irony of this situation was the topic of my sermon… identity. On embracing who we are and who Jesus has called us to be.  Why is that ironic?

Because, I fought the whole “working mom+ pastor” identity plan God had in mind.

I didn’t like that God was calling me to seminary or ordination or to be a pastor.  My plan was to work, get married, have kids, and then immerse myself into motherhood. Nope.

Apparently, that was NOT God’s plan. I fought it, gave in, and fought it some more when I wound up studying for ordination exams during most of my second pregnancy and then completing the exam… at 9 months pregnant.  That was a low point for me.

Truth be told… I wanted to fail that exam.

I wanted to find a reason to put off what God was calling me to do. Nope again.  God made it very apparent to me that THIS was where I was suppose to be. Working. Mom. Pastor. Speaking. Teaching. All of it.

So that beautiful moment with Delle… I worked really hard to avoid that.

To avoid the tension of working AND being a mom.  To avoid the fear that came with whether or not I was (or wasn’t) spending enough time with the girls, desiring more of it, and if I really was suppose to be making this sacrifice. I fought it.

I fought writing sermons.  On whether or not I should really be a (woman) pastor and if I had it in me to do the kind of job I felt God leading me to.

The call to motherhood is a weighty one.  And the call to pastoring is equally weighty. 2 weighty calls on one, little ole’ me.  It scared me to death.  The fear of letting people down. Of letting my family, my friends, my people, my church, God down. All of it freaked me out.

The pressure of sharing God’s word— in a relatable, exciting, authentic way (in front of hundreds of people).  Also weighty.

But here’s the thing I’m learning about IDENTITY…

MORE THAN simply being a mom, wife, believer, friend, daughter, pastor… I am a child of God. Period.

The difficult thing to admit is, THAT source of identity is the first one to get quickly misplaced or forgotten.  Far too often I fill it with something that gives me temporary hope, fulfillment, affirmation, and approval.

& far too often God has to remind be to be STRONG in my weighty callings.

To be strong as I live out (& live in) the tension of being a working mom and pastor and wife and friend and whatever else I am.  To be strong (and courageous) as I seek new opportunities and push the limits on what I think I can do.

& beyond that to…

LET GO OF THE WEIGHT.

Yes, there is a weight of motherhood, pastoring, wife-ing (I decided that should be a word) that never goes away. But there is also an additional weight I place on top of that.  The weight of being a PERFECT mom, a PERFECT pastor, a PERFECT wife… the weight of pleasing everyone.  Keeping all people, at all times, incredibly happy.

So, I’m learning to lose the weight.

To drop balancing all of my different hats and callings PERFECTLY and embrace the tension that exists.

To live in that tension. Be honest in that tension. & be strong in that tension.

We fight tension and discomfort.  But Jesus so often encouraged it.  He challenged people to live outside of the easy, expected life and pursue him with every fiber of our being.

Sometimes I wonder how differently my life would look if I really dropped the additional weight I carried (really dragged) around.  If I actually EMBRACED the tension of my identity and kept my eyes FIXED on Jesus (Hebrews 12:2).  If I really clung to his words and commands as my lifeline. And (truly) believed it wasn’t about how great of a job I’m doing at balancing all of this extra weight but instead about just losing it. About laying it down at his feet and clinging to the cross.

& so that’s what I’m striving to do, to…

>>> lose the weight <<<

& Stay fixed on the author and perfector of my faith.  On the one who endured the cross & yet still calls me his child.