Move. Or Move Me.

Complacency - 1. self-satisfaction especially when accompanied by unawareness of actual dangers or deficiencies. 2. an instance of usually unaware or uninformed self-satisfaction. We've all been there. Quite frankly, we've all spent wasted way too much time there. It's that place of complacency. That place where we are satisfied with the norm, with the way things are, with the comfort zone. Sometimes we mistakenly call that place contentment...because it sounds better. But I can't help but think that complacency is the greatest enemy to our greatness, to our potential. Sometimes that place of complacency "looks" like a good place. We're spending our time on good things. We're doing good things. We're doing the right things. We're doing the comfortable things. But what are we missing? We're investing in someone else's cause, someone else's passion, someone else's greatness. But what about our own? How often do we invest in all of those things as our way out? As our way to stay in our comfort zone. As I relished extra quiet time on our recent vacation, I also cherished extra time to hear from God. And much to my surprise, He helped me see I've fallen into a place of complacency. That unaware satisfaction of going through life doing good things. But having that nagging unfulfilled feeling because I'm selling myself short. I'm not allowing the greatness He has placed in me to grow, to move, to change. As I really began to realize how complacent I had become, I began to pray. My prayer became, and has remained, move. Or move me. God, move in my circumstances, my life, my daily decisions, my heart's desires. Move them to be in line with what your plan for my path is. Or move me. Now if you know me, or have read this blog long, you know that change is all but a four letter word to me. But isn't that thinking exactly what breeds complacency? So for me to pray, "Move me" is honestly a little terrifying. And if I'm being honest, a little difficult to do without trying to put conditions on it. But it's where I am. Now that I've recognized the complacency, I want to be moved. Out of the place of complacency. Out of the familiar. Out of the comfort zone. And into the place where I'm on the path to the greatness God has in store for me. Into the place where my purpose is fulfilled. Into the place where good is replaced by best. So tonight again I pray, Lord move. Or move me.

It's A Gift

This has been a heavy week. Friends of ours received word that their son, in his early 20's, passed away. As a mom, just the thought of receiving that kind of news makes me feel physically sick. As a friend, my heart breaks and aches for all that this family is facing. These are the times that words simply just fail. And the times that readjust my priorities and my perspective. In the heaviness of this week, I've found myself brought to tears just by the sight of my children. Overwhelmed with thankfulness. Overwhelmed at the thought of doing life without them. Overwhelmed by the realization that I sweat the small stuff too much. Overwhelmed by how short this life is and how much I've missed just being to busy.

These last days, like never in my life before, I've really recognized what a gift each day is. I've purposed to be more patient. I've stopped to watch, really watch, my daughter when she grabs my iPod, turns the music on and tells me to watch her dance. I've put down the phone and watched my son at football practice...being really present instead of just being there. I've listened to them talk. I've answered the off-the-wall questions that randomly pop up with thankfulness that my kids still come to me with the questions. I've said I love you a little more. This life is so short. It's so unpredictable. It has no guarantees. Tomorrow isn't promised to us. This life is a gift. Every day is gift. "Teach us to realize how short our lives are. Then our hearts will become wise." Psalm 90:12

Strong Like a Palm Tree

Have you ever just sat and looked at a palm tree? I mean really looked at it? Just off our balcony on our recent vacation was a beautiful grove of palm trees. As we sat there each morning, I became more and more fascinated by these palms.

As I watched these palms swaying and bending in the breeze, I recalled all of the hurricane footage I've seen over the years. Have you ever noticed that palm trees seem to always weather the strongest of storms? They bend...almost to the point of breaking. But they don't break. They are the things left standing when utter destruction is everywhere else around. I did a little (emphasis on little) research on these palms after we returned. I wondered what the roots were like, what made them so strong. While I don't have all of the answers, I did learn something. The root systems of these trees are not only deep, but wide. Their "foundation" is solid. And they don't resist or fight against the wind. As God often does, He showed me more than just these trees. In life, we face storms. Some that are short and intense, some that are long and steady and some that are like a cat 5 hurricane. But much like those beautiful palm trees, we don't break. We bend and stretch, and maybe even lose a few leaves, but we don't break. And the more we grow in our relationship with Christ, the deeper our roots grow. With the deeper roots, our our faith grows. And with greater faith, our ability to weather the storm trusting our Father grows. Because of the deeply rooted foundation we can safely bend in the storms. We don't have to resist or fight against the wind and destruction of the storms because our roots, our Father, defend us against all of it. It doesn't mean we don't feel the effects of the storms. It doesn't mean that we don't grow weary. It doesn't mean that we don't lose anything. But it does mean that when the storm is over, we won't be broken. We will be stronger. And we will continue to grow.