Being "Here".

The past few weeks have been bananas for us.  Including my upcoming travel this week, out of 53 days, I will have been gone 23 of them. That's 43%!  43% of the days have been not in Winston, not with my people.

I know that so many of you travel for your job- and this is nothing new to you... but I am not one of those people.  I enjoy travel- especially when it comes to vacations or visiting those I love- but being gone nearly half of the time is too much.  And lets face it, I'm not the spring chicken I used to be... bouncing back from this amount of travel has taken it's toll on my body.

During those 53 days, I've seen some of my dearest friends and colleagues.  I've enjoyed time at Great Wolf Lodge with my big girl (and got to see some of our Foster Friends, too.)  I've been to the mountains, the beach, and back to the mountains again.  I've eaten good food, hiked beautiful views, shopped, and read books.  I've also slept in uncomfortable beds, had allergy attacks, gotten sick to my stomach, been worried about a lice outbreak (we're clear, don't worry), and missed some key events that the extrovert side of me hated missing.

While we're talking about personality types, let's acknowledge that one... on the Myers-Briggs test, I always score just over the line as an extrovert.  Which means that my introvert side is very high.  And for at least 90% of these away trips, I've been required to be "on"... which makes my introvert side feel like it's drowning.  Yes, I am a people person... but I regain that energy by withdrawing and recharging alone.

Today when someone at church asked me how I've been doing, my response was, "Well, I'm here."  While that may have appeared to seem tongue in cheek to my scattered appearance or disposition, it was more honestly an acknowledgment of the beauty of actually being home.  I missed church one week because of sickness and I will miss 3 weeks because of travel.  That means that of 9 Sundays, I'm missing or have already missed 4. That's another 44%.

For a lot of people, missing church isn't a huge big deal.  For me, it is.

And none of that has to do with guilt.

It's honestly doesn't have to do with me missing the chance to "worship"... because I've felt more connected to God than I have in a very long time.

But I've not been connected to my Church Family.

Being with them this evening for Trunk or Treat made me realize just how much I've missed them.

Being gone from my own family has been difficult- Julianna and Elizabeth have both needed their Momma.  My house was a hot mess when I got home from my trips.  Laundry has piled up- and this is no knock on Dan, this is just the state of how things get when we're out of sync.

In the same way, I'm out of rhythm at church.  Part of participating fully in worship is being present... and I have not been.  While I can get "what I need" from attending periodically, I'm not fully enjoying the connection of being part of The Church when my attendance is spotty.

This is not a plug from Father Steve or our Vestry.  This is not something sponsored by those of us working to get people connected through our Welcoming Ministry.  In fact, this isn't even about our church specific.

Instead, as I've looked at my most recent schedule and my slack church attendance... I have to realize that I'm not alone.  Surely some of you have been gone too... for 44% of the time or more.  Know that you're not alone.  And know that it never matters how long you've been gone... you're always welcome.  Don't have somewhere that you miss when you're gone?  You're welcome to join me at St. Timothy's.

Being "Here" is not always high praise for my mental or physical state... but I look forward to the day when I'm Here more often.  Until then, I'll jump in when I'm able and continue to reach out to my Church when I'm not.  I can't expect they'll know how I'm doing until I tell them... and those days when I'm not Here might be the times when I need them even more.

Grace and Peace.

(and thanks, Beckie, for the pics.)

Do Good Day, 2016

Hi Friends.

It's Coming.

Do Good Day 2016 is only 2 weeks away.

Here's the quick recap for those of you who are new to Do Good Day: Each September 24th (my Daddy's birthday), we unite forces to Do Good.  It's sort of a collective Random Acts of Kindness day... honoring a man who showed Goodness to so many of us. (longer explanation below**)

Each year since Daddy died, I've suggested to you a focus for your Good... a little bit of direction for those of you who might not know where to start. In the past we've donated to St. Baldricks in honor of children who fight childhood cancer, we've served the kids who benefit from the backpack program of Meadowlark Meals, we've organized gift cards for food for those who arrive at their doctor's office and haven't eaten, we've donated to Alzheimer's research, and we've collected money for a family who had been recently diagnosed with cancer.  Each collective effort brings a smile to my face and meets a need in such a tangible Good way.

You don't have to join our collective effort, though.   Anything you do is great- my day is made by the stories I hear from you about what you do in your own little sphere of influence.   I get texts all day of people who pay for people's coffee anonymously in the drive through... people who bring lunch to coworkers... people who provide musical instruments for children who can't afford them... people who have honored my Daddy by bringing treats to his beloved Home Depot coworkers.

So what will you do this year?  Already have ideas?  SUPER.  Need help with a little direction?  Think on this:  I'll be collecting school supplies for two area teachers who teach at local schools that need extra Good.  One of them teaches First Grade, and one works with Exceptional Children.  Both of their classrooms have children who need a little extra- and don't have parents that are able to always provide in that way.  They can both use basic school supplies or gift cards to Target/ Wal-Mart/ Barnes and Noble/ Amazon.  I'll be collecting items and gift cards for them.

Want another way to help?  Our "Do Good" fund is super low.  This year alone we have provided money to buy appliances, car repairs, and basic needs for multiple individuals.  Our supply box of gift cards is nearly depleted.  Do you work for an area business that would like to donate a gift card?  We'd love to keep it on hand.  We give them out as we hear of needs- and don't always have time to publicize for help.

Speaking of which, in this next year, we are going to be changing how we publicize needs- both on the giving and receiving end.  If you have a need or feel like you can meet a need, please make sure you've liked our Facebook Page.  We will begin better utilizing our page to help with the anonymity of our needs.

I'm grateful to get to celebrate my Daddy's life with all of you.  He would hate the attention, but he sure would love the results of this effort.  Whatever you do on 9/24, know that how you Do Good can have lasting effects.  Join me, will you?

** More on the history of Do Good here.

'Coming Out' Spiritually...

Yesterday I posted a picture on my Instagram account- publicly acknowledging for the first time the shift that has happened in our spiritual home over the last year.  While I am in no way making light of any experience my LGBTQ friends have had... I'll tell you that I felt a little bit that I was Coming Out.

The love I feel for my former church is so intense.  I have been so careful to not share about our current journey for fear it would look like we somehow didn't like them anymore.

Let me save you the trouble of looking for dirt if that's why you're reading this- wondering if maybe I'm gonna spill some big, juicy drama that occurred between us and our former church home.  NOTHING (bad) HAPPENED.

The road to a new church home has consumed the last year of our lives.  So much so, that I'm going to share that experience in two parts.  Not for a drama factor, but just for ease of sharing.

I have been a member of 3 (now 4) churches for all of my life.  The first one, I was born into.  The next one, I chose because of my time and service in Chapel Hill.  The last one, we found after a long search when we moved to Winston.  We knew going into our membership there that we didn't line up theologically 100% (spoiler alert: we're sorta liberal)... but we fell so in love with the people and the fellowship that we allowed ourselves to look beyond any differences and dive right in.  It was in this place that our biggest life events to date took place: we longed for, conceived, lost, and gained children.  We developed deep friendships- and lost some of those friends to tragic, unbelievable death.  We prayed fervently during extreme illness of children and parents... some with joyous outcomes, and some that won't be joyous again until we reach heaven.

In short, we grew in all ways during our time in that sacred space.

Along the way, especially as Elizabeth began to ask hard questions, we wondered if we needed to look at other church homes.  This is where the beauty of our marriage partnership became even more evident.  When I would feel a need to go, Dan would gently remind me that we don't all need to "look alike" in a church... and we would stay.  When Dan would feel a need to go, I would remind him about our beautiful fellowship... and we would stay.  Last year, however, we both came to the same point of needing to go at the same time.

We wept, we talked, we prayed... and we repeated that process over and over until we knew we were doing what was best for our family.

Last summer we began the Church Search again... a long and lonely process of not feeling rooted.  We were blessed, however, to explore so many neat places of worship all over our city.  We met people we wouldn't know otherwise and got a chance to see how Others are "doing church" oh so well.

We found a Community close to our house and were so excited to be welcomed in to their fellowship.  Our kids were part of their Christmas program.  We were loved well during the loss of my Mom.  It felt good.

And then....

One Tuesday night in February, my Book Club went to serve dinner at the Overflow Shelter at St. Timothy's Episcopal Church.

When we walked into the building, I had an experience that I can only accredit to the Holy Spirit.  As I entered the church, I knew it was a special place.  I knew it was somewhere we were supposed to- at least- visit.  St. Tim's had been on our short list, but since we'd plugged in elsewhere, we weren't continuing to look at new churches.  Prior to walking in that first night, I'd had 3 good friends mention to me how much I'd like it there.  One of those friends had a child in E's class and she'd also invited E to come.

So right in the middle of heading toward plugging in elsewhere, we decided to give St. Tim's a try.

And that was the end of that.

We've been there ever since.

Tomorrow's post... Liturgy Newbie

Juggling Chaos

I have a precious friend who once said that she needed a business card that explained her job title as this: "Managing Crazy, Getting Sh*t Done."

These days, mine would look an awful lot like that but I would change it to this: "Juggling Chaos, Getting Sh*t Done... Or Maybe Not."

Yesterday was a typical day for us.  Julianna and I drove to Hillsborough to get a copy of a form we needed for her adoption.  Then we stopped by our attorney's office to sign some paperwork, then home for a missed nap time.  (That always leads to a super fun afternoon!)  E got home from school, the mail came with a random check for Mom from an account we knew nothing about, so I began the investigation to see what was going on there.  Then when Dan got home I passed off kids abruptly, ran to the bank, then took part in a Grief Group at Hospice for people who have lost their parents.  I cried with strangers who became friends and then ran back home- getting gas on the way so that AAA didn't have to show up on the side of the road.  I walked in to find an anxious daughter who wasn't able to finish her homework on the computer because she'd lost the privilege of the computer for making a poor choice.  So as I sat down on the couch, I caught Dan up on it all and I cried.

I cried because I'd had a conversation with my brother about when to scatter Daddy's ashes.

I cried because the people at Hospice "get it" and have brought up so many things in my heart.

I cried because a friend unexpectedly lost his Dad yesterday.

I cried because our house was trashed... and I'm tired of it.

I cried because I just plain miss my parents.

During my productive morning, I juggled our chaos and I got stuff done.  A lot of it, actually.  So when I hit the moment that I just couldn't do anymore... it was okay to not do anymore.

We are raised to be finishers... we want to complete the task, mark it off our to-do list.  I am this way as well.  But I am also a starter.  I have a bazillion started projects downstairs- books I didn't finish, things I wanted to paint, old stationery projects uncompleted, half done scrapbooks... I am a pro at starting.  Finishing, however, is not my strong suit.  Don't believe me?  Check my college transcript for the dates between Freshman Year and Graduation...

In this season of grief and exhaustion, my Juggling Chaos is never harder than when it's trying to determine when to be productive and when to rest.  I teeter between excellent self-care and slothfulness.  I hover over the line of giving myself grace and giving myself permission to do too little... or sometimes, too much.

In between picking up forms and signing things yesterday, Julianna and I stopped at a park to play for a bit.  Near us was a woman sitting alone on a bench who was wrecked with sadness.  I'm not sure if she was suffering from mental illness, or if a situation had left her incapable of anything than sitting on that bench and crying.  Her sadness was palpable... maybe I picked up some of it along the way.  As I pushed Julianna in the swing, I prayed for the woman.  I prayed for myself.  I prayed for the pain and the drowning feeling of the Chaos we both were feeling.  All while I pushed Julianna "higher, Mommy... higher!"

Maybe my Chaos will get better today.  Maybe it will get better next week.  Or maybe it won't get better at all.  I don't know what's next for my schedule, my laundry, my bank account, or my heart... but I do know this:  Not one thing got knocked off my To-Do list yesterday while I was pushing this little girl on the swings.  But nothing on it was more important than pushing her, either.

So here's to being a finisher of the important things.  And a juggler of everything else.

And the wisdom to know when to stand back and just push the swing.

the wonder of it all.

Today was a day for the books.  I nailed it.  I was so productive that I'm about to get in bed... and it's not even 7:00 yet.

Apart from my productivity (which I now refuse to document on here, lest I jinx my life) (and yes, I may be a wee bit superstitious from past experience), today stood out because of the roller-coaster-ness of it all.

Our pre-bus time was great this morning.  E woke up on the right side of the bed (surprisingly, since she went to bed so super late) and we enjoyed a cooked breakfast before school.  Cooked Breakfast doesn't always happen.  There's usually cereal, and 80% of the time she's finishing it at the bus stop.  But this morning, we had time- shower and all- for her to enjoy a more filling option.

I came in from the bus stop feeling my "I nailed it" High and got on Facebook.  Within moments I learned the tragic news that my home church family was hurting.  Death is never easy, especially when it's one so young.  My heart plummeted into the "there is so much sadness in this world" realm... I am grieving with you, Hominy Baptist.

I worked on uploading the pictures that my friend John had sent of items in my Mom's house.  Rather than head home to take pictures of items we have for sale, I emailed one of my oldest friends and asked him for a favor.  As I uploaded pictures, I was comforted by the love I've gotten from my second family... the past 2 years (and the 35 before that) when I've needed something they have been the first to arrive with helping hands.  I can only imagine that E will have that same kind of connection with one of her oldest friends, too.  Preschool connections are beautiful... we both are blessed to have them.

Thankfully, I've had lots of friends check in on me as I've posted details about closing up my Bradshaw Lane world.  While Monday threw me for a loop, today was less rough as I went about details about moving.  And as people started buying furniture, I knew that it was a blessing that the first 3 pieces to go were purchased by people I love so much.  One by my 2nd grade best friend, one by my high school BFFs sister (and the older sister that I coveted), and one by someone who is one of Mom's caretakers here.  It feels like Doing Good to pass things on to loved ones and not "just" selling them at a yard sale.  (But we're not above that.  Need some random furniture?  Let me know!)

I left that task feeling accomplished and encouraged and went on to my main task of the day.  Part of it was overwhelming, part of it was thrilling to finally have some organization to a previously messy part of my life.  And during it, a message popped up that one of my besties got AMAZING news today regarding her adoption process.  Such beauty in the midst of sadness.

I then went into full on Business Mode and made more phone calls on Mom's behalf... I am thankful to have time in my day to knock these things out.  They aren't "fun", but as I've said before, I feel like I'm honoring her life by taking good care of her affairs.

Shortly after (yes, the day went that fast) a sweet first grader ran off the bus full of stories of today's field trip.  We enjoyed catching up while I fixed dinner.  And then my sum-total of today hit me.  I was standing over the oven- looking at what I was cooking.  Normally, my meals "make sense" and fit together nicely.  We usually have dishes that would make sense in a menu-planning session.  But tonight's meal didn't.  Without thinking much about it, I prepared my Daddy's spaghetti sauce and my Mom's broccoli casserole.  I've never made those two dishes together- usually we'd have a salad or steamed broccoli if anything.  But tonight it felt right.  And I'm not surprised.  Sometimes, even your subconscious needs a little bit of home and it comes out in comfort food.

While we ate dinner tonight, I reflected on the sadness- and the happiness- of my day.  Broccoli casserole and spaghetti may not go together, but neither do tragic death and joyful adoptions.  Neither do Power of Attorney work and making chocolate chip pancakes.  Well, we don't seem to think they go together... but in this twisted up world we live in, they do.  I won't try to explain it... at this point I won't even try to understand it... but sometimes dishes go together and life goes together and emotions go together and it all just happens.

early bedtimes and living intentionally.

Yesterday, E just couldn't get a grip on herself.  Before church she had cried at least 2 times... getting frustrated over everything.  She got mad at me when I combed her hair with a comb rather than allowing her to continue to use the plastic fork which was giving her not much success.  She was angry and weepy about everything we said.

After church, we had lunch with friends... and she was just fine... until it was time to leave.  She walked out of their house without even a real goodbye to our friend and pouted the whole way home.  And then the whole way to Home Depot.  And then the whole way home again.

The climax of this pout came when she asked if we could go swimming and we said no, which caused a magnitude of tears and teenage-sounding lines.  She managed to pull it together for a bit... but couldn't maintain the together-ness long enough to even finish dinner.  So with only a few bites of a baked potato eaten, she went to bed.

Before 6:00pm.

(Please note, DSS, we were not withholding food from our child.  She chose to skip dinner in favor of some solitude.  I promise we'll feed her well when she wakes up.  We don't let children go hungry.)

I feel quite certain that yesterday's behavior was E's way of sorting through the emotions of a previously packed two weeks.  As we've seen with her time and time again, even when her packed schedule is packed with goodness... she still needs time of nothingness to unpack.

Her Mom tends to be the same way.  Historically, when I would cram too much in to my schedule, my body would shut down with an asthma attack.  While this still happens, it happens far less now that I have the winning combination of good medicine and a husband who "makes" me slow down every now and then.

But even when I maintain life at a good pace, my heart and mind still race.  My emotions get as jumbled as E's do... I just usually have more coping skills to fake it better.  The introverted part of me (yes, there is one) desperately requires time alone- to think, to clean, to sit, to read, to be still... and when that part is neglected, I crumble... just like my wee one.

Dan and I are constantly making adjustments to our schedule to make sure that both of us have the "down time" needed to keep peace in our home.  This morning, my quest for peace came in a laundry washing- Quiet Time having- coffee drinking start to the day.  (Side note?  I also have discovered recently that my "state of calm" is in direct correlation to how much junk is on my kitchen counter.)  Today, while I attempt to keep peace and order in my home, I'll also be nailing down some details to close out Daddy's estate.  It seems bizarre that not even 130 days ago, my life looked so completely different.  Friday I was on the phone with a friend and as I said to her "I just miss my Daddy...", the tears came and couldn't stop.  Finding peace now looks so different than it did then... but it is peace nonetheless.

The irony of my word this year is that it is "intentional".  So funny that I felt led back in January to speak a word into my life which would cause me to pause and be aware of every most decisions I make.  So funny that before I even knew how this would feel, I was preparing my heart to intentionally choose it's response.

My heart fluctuates between being a jumbled mess and at peace... and the peace only comes from Jesus.  I have become more and more dependent on Him in this season.  That doesn't mean that in the midst of this I've made all wise intentional choices... but they have (for the most part) been intentional.  And like Miss E, I've sent myself to bed early a couple of nights because I knew that was what was best- for all of us.

But here's to a new day.  And a new week.  And a (almost) new month.  Here's to making intentional choices about how we spend our time, our money, our energy, and our emotions.  Here's to Doing Good for those around us.  Here's to starting our day on a positive note- looking toward the One who created it.

And here's to making it last until bedtime... which will hopefully be later than 6:00pm.

a life of intention.

Less than 40 days after losing my Daddy, another one of my heroes is gone.  Wednesday night after Small Group we got another one of "those" calls... the calls that change your life.  Geoff... whose name you never heard me say without saying "...and Nicole".... died unexpectedly while heading up a basketball game with some friends from work.  That story is not mine to tell, but what I can tell you is about my friend, Geoff.

Geoff lived with intention.  He loved out loud.  He truly brought out the best in everyone around him.  Someone said at his funeral yesterday that "you hope you like yourself half as much as Geoff likes you"... and that is so true.  His laugh was genuine and contagious, and lawsy, he liked to eat.  We loved sharing meals with the Kugels because Geoff always appreciated good food... but he cared for the fellowship more.

Nicole and I met sometime around 2005 when our church did a discipleship focus called "Build".  Nicole and I ended up in the same Build group because of our crazy schedules- I was working at the Ronald McDonald House then.  The two of us- and a third friend, Kathy- got to know each other as we spent time growing together in our understanding of scripture late at night at Starbucks.  We memorized passages together, prayed, laughed, and began to weave our lives together.  Soon after that time, Geoff and Nicole began attending another church, but our lives were already committed to one another.  We walked through a time of mourning as we were still infertile, as her Mom was suffering through cancer, as Mary was diagnosed... then we rejoiced at Elizabeth's birth just months before her Mom went to be with the Lord.  We asked them to covenant with us to raise our daughter- as we saw in them qualities we wanted in our child before they were even parents themselves.  That fact became magnified as their son was born, and again just a year ago as they added a sweet baby girl to their lives.  By this point, "Geoff and Nicole" were stuck with the Johnstons... and we were blessed to be stuck with them.

The stories that poured out at Geoff's funeral yesterday were funny, precious, and poignant... and they all pointed back to Jesus in Geoff.  As we left the church, Dan looked at me through tear stained eyes and said, "that is exactly what you would want people to say about you when you are gone."  No truer words have ever been said- to live a life of intention... to live a life of purpose... to live a life of love... to live a life of Grace--- that's what Geoff did.

And that's why this pain hurts so much- with losing Geoff and losing Daddy- both of them lived big.  Both of them made you feel loved and cared for and like you were the most important person they knew.  They showed favor to those around them.  They put others' needs before their own.

I want to live like that.

In the days to come as the Lord brings Nicole to your mind... pray for them.  The pain rushes in at unforeseen times... I cannot imagine my world without Geoff, so I can't fathom what hers will be like.  But don't just pray.  Act.  Love those around you.  Treat someone to lunch.  Mow your neighbor's grass.  Send someone a card.  Scratch the back of your loved one.  Open the door for someone else.  Carry someone's groceries... shoot... buy someone's groceries.  Send that email you've meant to send.  Buy a friend a treat for no real reason.  Loan someone a good book.  Go swing at the park.  Get to know the name of the person who makes your coffee.  Support local businesses.  Walk downtown.  Call your brother back.  Color with your kids.  Order several different varieties of drinks at dinner... splurge a little.  Go back to visit your alma mater.  Hang those pictures.  Do what you love... with those you love. Give.

Geoff did all that.  Daddy did all that.  I saw it... and it changed me.  The pain is bigger because they were bigger... and while the pain of losing them aches, it pushes me to respond.  I want to be "Geoff" and "Daddy" to those around me.  I want to make a mark on the world in that way.  I want my response not to be fueled by grief... but by wanting to show a tangible love to a hurting world.

Let's commit together to "do good".