Waiting Game

Lately, I've been in a season of waiting. A time where I know something big is bound to happen…just not yet. A season where things aren’t going quite the way I’d hope. A season of struggle. A “meantime”. Some people might even call this season a rut.  I have been waiting, yes, though not so patiently. I while back I was explaining these feelings to a friend over coffee, and she offered me some wisdom. (I’m so thankful to be surrounded by so many wise women). She shared with me a passage out of Jeremiah 29. When she started to speak about this chapter, I thought it was going to be the well-known and (too) oft-used Jeremiah 29:11, where the Lord declares, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” The passage my friend encouraged me with was actually a few verses before this one. She led me to Jeremiah 29: 4-7:

“Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” (ESV)

In these verses the Lord is encouraging the Israelites to fully engage during their season of waiting. He doesn’t tell them to wish the season away; to make their own plans for the next season; to complain about the waiting. No, he tells them to build houses; to plant gardens and eat from them; to marry; to multiply; to seek the welfare of the city. He does not encourage them to hate the city because it isn’t their final (or desired) destination. Instead, they are to pray to the Lord on the city’s behalf.

So while I’m waiting, I pray that I can learn to really invest where I’m at, wherever that may be. That I could be a light in this moment instead of being so caught up with what the next moment might look like. That my current situation would be better because Jesus is in it.

Also, I pray that I can trust in the Lord in my waiting. That I would truly believe that no matter what circumstance or situation I find myself in, that He is in control and that He knows what is best for me, often even more than I do.

Bethany Dillon, one of my favorite Christian artists, recently came out with a new EP titled “To Those Who Wait”. The lyrics to the title track include:

“ Oh, my soul, wait on the Lord.
Keep your lamp filled with oil.
Oh, my soul, Be not deceived!
Wait for Him. Don’t be quick to leave.
Lord, today, You know what I need to do,
But you can do more in my waiting than in my doing I could do. So I won’t run anymore. I’m waiting on You.”

So as my ramblings for the day come to an end, I’m thankful – for wise friends, for Scripture, for God’s promises. I am trying to get better at waiting, of letting go of control and letting the Lord lead. Much easier said than done. But with His help and by His power I press (and wait) on.

Fear Not

What are your biggest fears? I have come up with my list. My biggest fears include:

• The dark 
• Being left alone 
• Failure 
• Disappointing people 
• Cockroaches 
• The Unknown 

A few weeks ago, I was listening to a sermon, and the thing that stuck out to me the most didn’t even really relate to the primary topic (it was a sermon on marriage). During his charge to wives, the pastor shared some encouragement; he said that the most-used phrase in the Bible is “Fear not”. The Lord encourages us to stand strong in the face of frightening situations. In Joshua 1:9, the Lord challenges Joshua: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened and do not be dismayed, for the lord you God is with you wherever you go.”

Last week I started reading through the book of Luke. And I was again reminded of the Lord’s urging to be brave. In Luke 1, we meet Zechariah and Elizabeth, the parents of John the Baptist. They are, shall we say, advanced in years. And Elizabeth is barren. Zechariah serves in the temple, and one day when he is at work and angel appears to him. As my translation puts it, when he saw the angel, Zechariah was “troubled” and “fear came upon him”. (Luke 1:12). Six months later, when the angel appears to Mary to foretell the birth of Jesus, he greets her but she is troubled and confused. He tells her, “Do not be afraid Mary, for you have found favor with God.” (Luke 1: 30).

In both situations, the recipients of the angel’s news were afraid and unsure. For Zechariah, this was probably a feeling of disbelief that a decades-long prayer for a child has been answered. For Mary her fear was likely a question of whether God’s plan for her future made sense – HER, a VIRGIN, to give birth to the Savior of the world? Seems unlikely..right?

We know how the story turns out – neither Zechariah or Mary let their fear stand in the way of the plan the Lord had for them. They trusted the Lord and knew that whatever He was orchestrating in their lives was ultimately for their best. I’m sure we’ve all had experiences where the Lord was showing us something, a plan He has for us, an obedience He is calling us to. As I shared some of my biggest fears, I’ve been wondering:

How often do I cower, retreat back when facing a fear? How often do I refrain from sharing truth with people because I’m afraid of their reaction? How often do I fail to try something new or different or study something because I might not be good at it? And more importantly, why do I do these things when the God of the Universe is telling me not to be afraid?

This week I’m praying that I’d be obedient to the Lord when he commands me to fear not; that I’d be strong and courageous. Would you pray that with me – for me and for yourself?

Not a Saint

At 2:30 this morning, my Nanny peacefully died in her sleep.

These are my thoughts as I process the loss of a very special lady in my life (and yours, if you know me):

When we first met, she was afraid of me. At least that's what she always told me. Most grandmothers aren't afraid of their grandkids, but I guess taking care of a premature granddaughter who is hooked up to various machines would be kind of scary at first.

It didn't take long, though, for Nanny to get over her fear, and for me to get better, and by the time I was in kindergarten, she had moved in with us. I honestly don't remember life at home before she came. What I do remember is how awesome it was to have her there. She was a second Mom to me. Not to take anything away from my own Mom, but Nan and I had a special bond. She was there when I got home from school, to make me snacks and watch Scooby Doo (which I couldn't watch alone because I was too scared). She made my dinner and did my laundry and was just there...all the time, because she never learned how to drive.

She was the second oldest of twelve siblings (a feat which still amazes me) born to farmers in Grainger County, TN. She moved out at fourteen (yes 1-4!) to work at the Inn in town. She got married and had kids. Then, when my Mom was 10, my grandfather died unexpectedly. So, my grandmother picked up her scattered life, and moved on. For the first time in her life, she worked outside the home. Eventually, she even owned a restaurant in town where she honed her fine country cooking skills. Anyone who knew my Nanny knew what an amazing cook she was - I can still taste her biscuits, green beans, roast, beef stew, greens, fried pies, cakes, candies, chocolate chip cookies as I write this.

Along with all of those things that I admire about her, Nan sure did have some frustrating habits. She was extremely opinionated and didn't mind one bit to make you mad as long as she felt that she got to have her say. She was pretty nosy, which made private conversations at home almost impossible. She like to have things "her way"... and let's just say it was a bad idea to try to do things any other way.

I visited my Nanny in November as she was in a Rehab Center, and everyone there could attest to the fact that she was a little cranky. She did NOT want to do the therapy they had suggested for her and she told anyone who would listen, from the nurses to the therapists to visitors.
I don't say all these things to defame or dishonor my sweet Nanny but simply to say this: She was not a saint.

My Mom and I had a conversation recently where she pointed out that so often when people die, we make saints out of them, remembering only the good stuff and none of the bad. So as I am processing the loss and the hurt I feel knowing that she is no longer with us, I am not only remembering the thousands of fond memories (her planting flowers each summer, working puzzles on the dining room table, watching Larry King every night, playing with her makeup just to name a few) I am also struck by her humanity, which also makes me acutely aware of my own.

So, here's to you Nanny (Mary Virginia Cameron Wells), you were not a saint, not by far. But you lived, and you loved and you taught me so very much. I am exceedingly blessed to have had you in my life for so long. I will miss you more than you know.

Guest Blog: A Christmas Without Nuts & Bolts

I can't take credit for this one, my older brother, Tate, wrote this earlier in the week and asked me to to post it when I next blogged...

Every year as I was growing up as Christmas neared my parents house was filled with aromas that would make your mouth water. There would be various cakes, pies, brownies, and cookies. There was fudge, both chocolate and peanut butter, and an assorted snack we always called Nuts and Bolts. Most of you have probably had this before but may know it by a different name. It is simply Chex Mix, Cheerios, nuts, and pretzels combined, covered in spices and baked. Even without the benefit of a calendar when you saw the nuts and bolts you knew IT WAS CHRISTMAS!

Where did all of this come from you ask? It came from nan. Nan is my maternal grandmother that has lived with my parents from the time I was in middle school. Why did she do this? That is an easy answer: LOVE. See baking is how nan showed her love, and she was good at it. She loved making baskets or tins for people at Christmas and filling them with the delicious treats she made. She had several cakes that were specialties of hers; Apple stack cake, German Chocolate, Caramel, and Red Velvet. Now don’t get me wrong while she loved the baking it was a labor. Many times I would see her throw out what I thought was a perfectly good layer for a cake because it didn’t meet her expectations. She worked hard in the summer drying her own apples for her stack cake so it would be just right. Anything less just wouldn’t do.

Sadly this Christmas is just not the same. My parents house doesn’t have the same smell. There aren’t cakes piling up for her to keep my hands out of. There is not that big jar of Nuts & Bolts for me to snack on. This Christmas instead of running from store to store for ingredients my mom is running to visit her ailing mother. See nan is laying in a hospice center laying in bed living out her remaining days. A body that has spent an entire life working is reduced to just laying and struggling to speak. And you know what Christmas just won’t be the same.

This is the part about growing up that absolutely sucks because nan is my only remaining grandparent. With the passing of each of my other grandparents there have been changes but they are most noticeable at Christmas. From sitting on my pappaws lap in his chair as a child with him calling me pappaws good boy. Also, watching maymee, my paternal grandmother, host Christmas at her house yearly while enjoying the presence of her entire family. Then, now there is the void of aromas brewing at my parents house this Christmas. Mary Virginia Cameron Wells I will miss you. I will miss your cooking. I will miss the shoulder to lean on when I needed it. I will miss my nanny. Oh and I will miss the Nuts and Bolts.

Why do I run?

Yesterday morning I met my friend Mary for a run through the streets of our beautiful Uptown neighborhood. Mary is training for a half marathon at the end of the month, and occasionally she cuts her distance and pace and indulges by running (or walking) with me. Mary is an inspiration to me in many ways, including simply the fact that she’s running a half marathon, given her history and former life, but yesterday she offered some sage advice that I’d been needing to hear.

As we were running - actually, I think I had to stop to walk at this point, but you get the picture - I was talking to Mary about how training is going for her big race. She shared that her training group has been one of the greatest encouragements she could ask for. I thought that was interesting given that her group is all women. I feel like in general getting a group of women together instantly breeds the potential for gossip, drama, tears, etc. But Mary said that this group is so encouraging, urging one another on, sharing stories from their past, celebrating victories and having each other’s backs. She then shared some words of wisdom that spoke directly to my heart, because they have more to do with life than with running.

Mary said that it is so important when you’re training for a race, or just running in general, not to compare yourself to those you are running with. You face different obstacles, have a different history, and are running with different goals in mind. Mary runs to give glory to God for saving her out of a really destructive lifestyle. She said she doesn’t compare herself to the other ladies she runs with. It wouldn’t be beneficial for anyone. With her focus set intently on her goal, all her training group will ever be is an encouragement because that is all she allows it to be.

Then (this is such a GOD thing), Mary forwarded me an email from her training group leader, sent yesterday after we ran, here are a couple of quotes that struck me as well.

“People run for a lot of different reasons. You've got to understand why you do it, and understand that the person next to you has different goals and incentives. Work on meeting YOUR goals--you might find out that the person next to you is aimed in an entirely different direction than you--and that's ok--running is for everyone to find their own happiness within.”

“Be proud to be the runner you are. We all exist on a HUGE continuum. There will always be people ahead of us. There will always be people behind us. “

Both of these nuggets of truth resonated with me. Here’s the deal: if I don’t know why I run, I am ALWAYS going to compare myself to others. And, as Mary’s trainer mentioned, there will ALWAYS be people ahead of me.

I am competitive by nature, and have been blessed with gifts in certain areas that allowed me to excel in most anything I tried growing up – school, dance class, sports, etc., so I never really worried about being competitive; I was always near the front of the pack or the top of the list. However, when it comes to running, well….it just doesn’t come as naturally to me. I really have to try. If my goal when I run is to be the fastest or the best or whatever, I am never going to be satisfied. Because I will never be the fastest or best, I could continually be disappointed. However, if I run for the fun of it, to be in shape, or like Mary, to glorify my God, then there is no disappointment to be had. Sure, there might be days were I run further or faster than others, but what pressure is relieved when I acknowledge that I am not doing something for me, but for God!

This message goes right along with our Vintage Women Bible Study material. Last week we talked about insecurities being one thing keeping us from recognizing and living in the joy that we have been chosen by God. One of the biggest struggles I have in regards to insecurity is feeling like I don’t stack up against some of the great examples of Godly women that surround me. I spend too much time comparing myself, thinking “I should be more like her. She has it all together”. Or “She sure does seem to be in touch with the Lord. I bet she does X,Y and Z. How much happier God must be with her than me!” This also applies to people I work with. I sometimes struggle when coworkers get praise when I don’t or get opportunities that I don’t. Aren’t those awful ugly thoughts? Maybe it’s too much for me to share them so publicly, but, they represent things that have gone through my mind, so I might as well put them out there.

In this week’s study, we are learning to be fully satisfied by Jesus, who is our Bread from Heaven, Living Water, our Sustainer. Being completely satisfied with Him and in His plan for me will free me from feeling like I must try to prove anything to anyone. And if I am focused on doing the work or running the race or living the life I am called to live, then I won’t spend time comparing myself to others. I will also be able to celebrate with them for their achievements and encourage them during low points as we all strive to run our race well. I won’t have time or energy to focus on negative thoughts or comparisons, which represent a very outward and worldly focus as because I will be keeping my gaze on the prize which is before me.

I am so thankful for all the women in my life who encourage and inspire me. This week I am praying that I would stop comparing myself, that I would live in the freedom of knowing I am chosen, and that I would continue to recognize my purpose. For me, that purpose is ultimately to give thanks and praise and glory to the One who created me in everything that I do. I pray that I would soak up and live confidently in that Truth, and would become so focused on my relationship with the Lord and my desire to love and serve Him that I can only be happy for and encourage those around me.

Just a quick list of a few questions I’ve pondered these past days:
- Why do I run (or do anything)? What is my purpose?
- What are my goals?
- Do my attitude, my thoughts, my actions, indicate that I am confident in my goal or purpose? If not, how can I change that?

Why I like Date Night

Since Matt recently posted a blog about the importance of date night in marriage, I thought I’d post a quick response.

My husband is a romantic. It’s one of the things I love most about him. He always knows how to sweep me off my feet. For us, that has never been achieved through extravagant gifts or vacations, rather Matt wooed me through his creative approach to declaring to me and the world that I am lovely and desirable and worthy of his affection.

I specifically remember getting butterflies as a 14-year-old when Matt surprised me with a homemade card for our one month anniversary. Yes, we celebrated months at that point, and yes, the card was awesome and had glitter on it and clearly took a lot of time and effort. I also smile thinking about the time he mailed me a large bouncy ball with a letter written on it while he was working camp one summer. Or the countless scavenger hunts and surprise dates we’ve been on. Now I know some of you may have just laughed out loud or thought about throwing up. Matt’s sentimental and romantic attitude and gestures may be too much for you, but I’d submit this thought: even if our methods aren’t exactly what you would employ in your relationship, the attentiveness and love expressed by Matt’s actions mean more to me than words can describe. More than enjoying receiving glittery cards or bouncy balls or being whisked off on surprise adventures, I savor the realization of the time and effort he spent planning and preparing for these things – time spent imagining my reaction, hoping that his hard work would be worth it, that I’d feel special and loved.

I think that’s why I like date night so much. And that is what it’s really about – my husband pursuing me and showing me that I am special and lovable and worthy of his time and attention. It means so much to me that in the midst of our busy-ness, he makes sure to set one night aside to turn off the noise of the lives we live and just talk with me, listen to me, learn about me and how I am doing and feeling and what I am learning. It doesn’t matter if we’re having a fancy dinner at Patois or takeout pizza for a date night in, because the atmosphere and food are only a small piece of what make the night worth remembering. What’s more worthy is our pursuit of our relationship; the ultimate goal is that through the cultivation of a healthy marital relationship, we are pointing each other (and the outside world) to Christ, who is our bridegroom as we are the Church. I can't think of a more beautiful picture than taking the way my husband pursues me and applying that to the way Christ pursues all of us. I am grateful to be pursued by both.

Outside my Box

For the last two weekends in July, Matt was given the opportunity to preach to our Vintage Uptown family. (You can check out the podcasts or his blog for his take on the experience). We were in the middle of a series called Identity, where we discussed who we are as the Church.

Matt's first discussion focused on Pursuing Christ Through our Mission. He walked us through Acts 3:1-10 and we learned about the importance of living every day with Spirit sensitivity. We closed by writing down one way we respond to the Spirit and posting it on a canvas. It was pretty challenging to take time to think of a specific way or area of my life where I promise to live with Spirit sensitivity and then post it on a board in permanent ink.

Last weekend Matt talked about Being Christ Through our Campus, allowing the story of Peter and Cornelius in Acts 10 to guide us. While there were many good points and lots of truth shared, the idea that I took away was this: Peter was the agent through which the Gospel was shared. Matt and I had discussed a lot that week the idea that throughout the book of Acts, we see time and again that, with the power and help of the Holy Spirit, humans are the medium through which the Lord shares his story with other humans. Even looking at the story of Cornelius we see that while he receives an angel to give him guidance, he doesn't truly hear the Gospel until it is shared by Peter. Matt challenged us to think about who might be a Cornelius in our life, noting that this is likely someone who 1: looks different (racially) 2: thinks different (religiously) or 3: smells different (economically) than you. I left last Sunday's gatherings feeling led to live in a way that I could be used by the Lord the way Peter was, in a way that changes someone else's life (and mine, too).

As I was packing last Sunday to head out of town for a week of training, Matt handed me a book that he'd read and been challenged by last summer. That book was called Peppermint-Filled Pinatas. I read the whole book last week, and once I got past the strange title, which the author explains, I was impressed. This book had very much the same theme of Matt's messages, particularly in that the author, Eric Michael Bryant, urges his reader to actively pursue opportunities to share the love of Christ in the everyday. In his case, this involves sharing with and getting to know people who look/think/smell different than him. You see, Bryant was a bald white guy from Texas who moved to a multi-ethnic, multi-economic and culturally diverse neighborhood in Los Angeles. His personal anecdotes helped drive home his points. As I white girl from East Tennessee, I related to his early difficulties assimilating to a much more diverse culture. Moving to New Orleans has definitely been an eye opening experience in many ways, not the least of which is the racial tension which is still raw and painful in many aspects of life in the city.

I'd like to share a couple of quotes which challenged me:

"The world is changing dramatically, and as a result, we cannot live the same way, hiding in our own cul-de-sacs, staying away from others who look or believe differently from the way we look or believe, because now they live next door (13)."

"If you want to become a diverse church, you need to have friends from diverse backgrounds. Many of us say we want diversity - but only if our children don't marry their children (123)."

I had a chance to talk through these quotes and other issues with my friend Anthony while we were at training. Anthony is an African-American born and raised in Uptown New Orleans, the same part of the city I live in now. He was able to answer some of my questions and bring me to a greater understanding of many of the racial issues that plague our city. He shared about his passion for better education and a stronger community foundation for many of the youth in the city, particularly those who are at an economic disadvantage. I learned so much from just a few short conversations and look forward to continued dialogue about this and other topics as Matt and I continue to develop a friendship with this awesome guy.

I thoroughly enjoyed Peppermint Filled Pinatas. And by enjoyed, I mean I nodded my head in agreement while reading every other page and then realized what a hypocrite I am for not living out the very ideas I so strongly believe. Ultimately what I realized is this: whether by diversity we mean the color of skin, socioeconomic status, or line of thought, I (like most people) prefer to be around those who are similar to me. I tend to befriend those who share my same values and my same way of thinking. It's much easier and doesn't require me to leave my comfort zone, but I am learning that in doing that, I am short-selling myself. I am not allowing my thoughts or point of view to be challenged or growing to understand another person, or allowing the Lord to use someone else to work out some issues in my heart or life.

So this week I am praying for guidance from the Spirit and seeking opportunities to step out of my box and spend time and place with those who are different than me. I also pray that I'll be able to celebrate those things that make others different than me. I hope you'll do the same. I think we'll all be changed in the process.