This little web site you’re reading is the place where my writing developed, my life fell apart and my dreams were reborn. It holds so much beauty for me and so many memories that are both painful and wonderful. It contains pictures of the people I love – the ones I have traveled the world with, stood in the storm with and the dear one I released to heaven.
All those words to say: This place is sacred to me, but I’ve had trouble coming back to it.
This morning I read “…no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins.” (Mark 2:21) And I wrote down all the “wineskins” in my life – the containers for the work of God: my city, my church, my home, my relationships, my web site. While I know He’s making new wine in me, I know I have to be willing to let Him bring new wineskins as well, otherwise both the wine and the container will no longer be useful or delicious.
I love the stories I have told on this web site, and they will always be here. But I have moved my words to a new container: www.sheology.co. It’s not just me there – it’s several women I have hand-picked who have mighty pens and miraculous stories. We gather there to talk about finding our place in God’s story – and we also host conferences, events and offer amazing e-resources, including a Monday morning newsletter where I write my heart out about what God is doing in my study, speaking, dating and dreaming adventures as I work to live a YES life. I’d love for you to join me there. You can read the very first one and subscribe here.
Thank you for joining me here and there and everywhere. I am beyond grateful to have you in my life.
Because of Jesus,
P.S. We also have a fantastic advent devotional called Song of Mary available as a free download on the web site right now. Don’t miss it! It’s just 7 days so you have plenty of time to jump in and savor this season and The Magnificat.
P.P.S: That’s my teeny-tiny Christmas tree at the top of this post and I LOVE it. It’s a whole new concept for me to not FILL the room with a giant tree and one million post-Christmas pine needles, but turns out it’s never too late to change your mind about what makes Christmas beautiful.
I have not spoken out about the immigration issue so far and I know so many people are urging/pushing spiritual leaders to step up and take a stand. I’ve written at least five different posts. I’ve read so many articles, watched so many videos. I’ve been scouring scripture for direction in terms of wording and wisdom. But all I can say is I haven’t yet felt okay about pushing that ‘post’ button.
Not because I’m afraid of people unfriending me, but because I feel like this issue has too many tentacles to reduce into a paragraph, written by a pastor with a teaspoonful of information and a truckload of passion.
I don’t want to add to the noise unless it will be helpful and it seems like most of the online arguments I’m reading only serve to further entrench people in their already-held opinion.
But the other night, as I was snuggled up with my grandsons on the couch (they were watching Captain Underpants, which is slightly inappropriate but hilarious and I hope I’m not in trouble with their parents), I ran into the audio of kids crying for their parents. I’ve been a mom long enough to recognize the sounds of terror-through-tears.
You recognize it, too, even if you’ve never been a mom.
I kept looking at my little guys, imagining the unimaginable. How our hearts would break. How their lives and mindsets and worldview would be impacted by that ONE moment. It made me wish that EVERY one of those kids could be sitting on a sofa with someone who loves them; someone they know would fight for them, die for them. How truly, terribly fortunate my sweethearts are to have been born on this soil, breathing freedom as a birthright (and please don’t correct me here to the word “blessed”, which would imply that Jesus loves Finn and Greyson more than He loves the kids with no couch to call home.)
It astounds me that this is not happening in the outer reaches of countries I can’t find on the map; it’s happening here in the land that I love. The home of the free is putting children in cages? That can’t be right.
And then I read the arguments from people defending President Trump (because I haven’t heard anyone defend the practice, just the President’s role in it.) Many said it’s not his fault – W started this; Obama continued it. Many said this is just a conspiracy to turn people against him. Many said those kids have it better in our cages than they do in their homes. Some argued that “kids in cages” is inflammatory and inaccurate – they are “detention cells.”
One said: America is a nation of laws and we don’t get to follow the laws we like and change the ones we don’t. (Note: America is a nation of PEOPLE and we certainly DO get to change the laws we don’t like if enough of us don’t like them. That’s precisely why women get to vote and rich people can’t own poor people.)
Most said this situation isn’t perfect, but what else are we going to do? The parents brought it on themselves, and their littles by extension.
All those arguments have points of interest. But I don’t care about them. In fact, I think those arguments are some of the most dangerous threats to our humanity, because they give us the semblance of a cause and it takes precious mental, emotional and physical energy to defend our causes – even the unworthy ones. Especially the unworthy ones.
I’d like to suggest that by the time we’re arguing over the definition of a “cage”, we’ve well and truly lost sight of the point. And when we make this primarily a referendum against our president, we’ve equally missed the point.
The more energy we invest in blaming someone or defending someone else or throwing our hands up in despair because this problem is just TOO BIG for us, the less energy we’ll throw where we need to throw it – indeed, the ONLY place our energy can flow that I think honors God: finding a solution.
We, the nation that sent men to the moon, can certainly find a way to send children to sofas where they can be safe, be loved, be children.
We must stop barking and blaming and start thinking and giving and loving.
We must invest at least the amount of creative heat to making the world a better place for children that we invest in making memes for Instagram. Even if our constitution doesn’t demand it, our Bible does.
So, what I think we need right now is hope. Hope and a holy agitation to turn this friction into traction. Hope that we can be a part of something new and beautiful and exciting and generational.
I started by giving to www.togetherrising.org. 100% of their donations are going to secure lawyers for unrepresented children, with a goal of reunifying them with their parents. I’m asking Jesus for more ideas to help bring hope and change. If you have them I’d sure love to hear them. I don’t really want to hear your arguments…but I absolutely DO want to hear any plan – no matter how crazy it may seem – for helping these beautiful kids find a voice in all of this noise. Does it seem impossible? Perfect. America was built on the fight for impossible freedom.
We were made for this.
Heyo, friends of mine! So many of you have kindly mentioned to me that the blogging has not so much been happening since I got back from Italy. I know. I have been MIA recently and there are reasons but none of them are particularly interesting or exciting so please pretend that I listed the reasons out here and you were all “ooohhh…” “ahhhhh….” “I get it, now…”
But for real, one of the reasons I haven’t been blogging much is because I have been working on building some NEW and EXCITING and WONDERFUL things that will be launching SO SO SOON (please note: these all caps are intentional and not because I’m aging rapidly and cannot see things close up) (but also: I am aging rapidly and cannot see things close up.)
New & Exciting Thing #1:
For years, I’ve had a desire to put real energy and mind-muscle into helping women learn to become better communicators of both the Word of God and words in general.
I believe every woman has a story to tell that can change the world – but often lacks the confidence, skill and resources to get that story out on the stage or on the page.
My deep passion is to help women use words effectively and beautifully. That is what I love and, therefore, that is what I shall do (because doing what we love is the best kind of magical.)
I want to help women understand their place in the world of words, men, lexicons and lecterns. Let’s get after this, ladies! There are stories to tell and the big, brilliant gospel to share!
This adventure will take the shape of conferences and consulting wherein I get bossy about the things of which I am certain and honest about the ways I’ve failed in the past twenty years while standing behind a podium or sitting at a keyboard. It’s going to be a good time!
New & Exciting Thing #2:
Another passion of mine is to help women who feel stuck. After twenty years of speaking at just less than 1 BILLION women’s events (number is approximate), I am deeply concerned about the State of Affairs among the women of the world. I’ve met very few who are passionate, determined, happy and fulfilled.
The rest are….waiting.
- Waiting for their real lives to begin.
- Waiting for sorrow or disappointment or disillusionament to stop controlling them.
- Waiting for permission to be seen and heard.
- Waiting to feel qualified.
- Waiting for the chance to truly make a difference with their beautiful lives.
Sisters, this ought not be! Of all the people on the planet, women who love and follow the ways and words of Jesus, should be the most wonderfully wild and free and should say the most exuberant “YES!” to His purpose(s) for each day they’re given. I have been building a seven-hour intensive – the Wild & Free Conference – around this one issue. Created out of the beauty I found on the battlefield and the strategy I used while re-starting my life during my first year of widowhood, it is four hours of teaching + three hours of personal coursework + thirty days followup assignments and journaling. Not gonna lie, it is intense. It is deep. It is challenging. But I think women are ready for exactly this kind of adventure. If you feel too young to settle for the life you have now, but too old to try anything new, this will be the event for you.
New & Exciting (and bittersweet) Thing #3:
This one has to do with #1 & #2. I will be launching a new website! My current blog has been my baby since 2007. It has seen me through sickness, health, grand babies, career changes and death. It holds my thoughts through the deepest valleys of heartache, the green pastures of peace and the harrowing highways of the Shadowlands. It will always be dear and important to me, but it is time for a new Yes. The new blog is not the “yes” – but it is the room where we can all hang out and talk about the yes’s we are saying and living and dreaming. I’m so excited to announce that the new living room for my thoughts and adventures will be called SHEology. It will have everything from study tips to speaker tricks to lipstick recommendations and book reviews. It will also contain a lot of resources for surviving tragedy, loss and pain, because that’s my lane and I try to stay in it. Mostly, it will be a place that gives you permission to be your very best and very worst and very truest self.
So, those are the things and I am bursting at the seams to share all the new with you! I’ll keep posting updates as we go – here on this website and on my facebook and instagram. I’ll also share the old, steady things as well: I still love my job at Westside, I love my people, I love my city and I’m happier than I’ve been in a very long time. It’s the blend of old and new that makes life so beautiful, don’t you think?
Can’t wait to meet you out on the edge of the wild!
I married Steve when I was 19, having lived with my sister before that and a bunch of college women before that and my parents before that. I was steeped in the tea of togetherness for as long as I could remember. If there was one thing I really craved for most of my life, it wasn’t more people but more solitude.
When Steve got sick in 2011 and then died in 2015, I was worried about a lot of things, like finances and kids and decisions about our house – but I wasn’t overly worried about being lonely. I knew I would miss him, but I really felt that I was the kind of person who could handle long stretches of aloneness. Other than a specific, recurring nightmare that I had to spend Christmas alone (I know – it’s weird what our brain conjures up, isn’t it?) I felt like I was well equipped and prepared to face my new life without a spouse. And it went pretty well for the first year. I don’t have much more to say about it than that – maybe I didn’t have time to focus on it while trying to rebuild a life for my family, but I don’t remember it being a pressing issue.
Recently, though, especially since returning from Italy, I have discovered the dark, quiet of a lonely life in ways I had never imagined before. I can’t say exactly why it’s happening or why it’s so hard now, I can only say with certainty that it is. And yeah, I have kids living here (though they aren’t here much) and I have a great man just three hours away and friends and family who love me. Yet, often when I wander through my empty house, the silence and solitude feel crushing, suffocating. I run into it in the wee hours, when I wake up alone in my bed, alone in my room – and I gasp to get air, to get hope into my lungs and I clutch the covers tightly and try to hang on until morning. Sometimes I decide that 4:00 a.m. is close enough to morning and I get up, make coffee and run to the refuge of my couch, waiting for the sun to shine beams through the window and remind me that a new day = new mercy.
Let me be clear: this is not a desperate cry for help. My friends and family care for me SO well. My kids are unfailingly kind and thoughtful. My boyfriend works hard to make sure we connect every day and to be available when I need him. I am the luckiest girl in all the land to have such amazing people in my life.
And yet, there’s something about being single that is weary and wearing. Coming home to an empty house often, going to bed alone every night, facing each day on my own, even just sitting down to pay the bills alone…these things create the ethos of my existence. They are unchanging and sometimes unrelenting in their gnawing, empty consistency. Is Jesus in this season? Without a doubt – I feel Him more present than ever before. Is He precious and good and true to His word? Absolutely. But sometimes my heart still feels overwhelmed by all this quiet.
So, what to do with loneliness? I think my best and worst answer is: I don’t know yet. I thought I knew a year ago, but turns out it just wasn’t really an issue then. And I know what I should say: Read your Bible, play worship music, lean into Jesus – fine ideas, all. But they ring a bit hollow for those who are longing to feel the warmth and camaraderie of a skin-and-bones human, or ache to feel circled by the kind of always-available friendship you don’t have to work up or work for.
Here’s where I want to give you a principle or three. I want to wrap it all up in hope and five steps to happiness. But the only hope I have to give the lonely today is this: I’m here, too. Lots of us live right here in the quiet wild. Just because you love Him, doesn’t mean you don’t feel it and just because you feel it, doesn’t mean you’re doing life wrong. It just means you’re doing life. And I’m proud of you and cheering you on from the cheap seats. Please know it. (And leave a comment if you’ve got a great idea for the rest of us!)
I’ve been sitting long and quiet this morning, trying to figure out whether or not to share something out loud. It feels extra vulnerable, which is why it’s a fight to wrap it into words, but also why I need to.
For months, I have been dealing with suffocating anxiety over a health issue in my life. Health stuff is a powerful trigger for me. My friends and sweetheart have extended endless kindness, compassion and patience as I’ve cried my way through sleepless nights, but also refused to get actual answers to the issue I was facing. All the worry finally culminated in a trip to Portland to see a friend of mine who is a doctor, who ordered the tests I had been avoiding since September. He ended our visit with one powerful sentence that keeps reverberating in my head: “The one and only question we need to answer today, Bo, is: Do you trust God with your whole life?” The night before the tests, I tossed and turned in my bed, writing a story in my head of the disaster that awaited inside those results. Just as I considered the idea of canceling the appointment in the morning, I heard a tiny voice in my spirit say, “That test is the only door out of the life you’re living now.” And I knew the voice was right. I loathe living in fear and taking a hard run at that door was the only way out, even if I faced something difficult on the other side. I had to reluctantly agree that any reality was a better option than living in the unknown, because real grace meets us in our real stories.
Results: I had the tests and I am healthy and fine. I’m trying not to focus on the many minutes and months I lost to anxiety, but it’s tough – because the door was there the whole time and I was afraid to use it. I wasted so much energy and sacrificed so much peace.
I share this only because I have run into so many people this week who are dealing with the very same issue, packaged up in different circumstances. Sometimes a situation seems so complex that everything looks like a house of mirrors, but I believe there is always a door. It may not be the final door to freedom, but it is the next door in the process. If you’re locked up in a life filled with fear or doubt or confusion, the one and only question you need to answer immediately is: Do you trust God with your whole life? And the only thing you need to do is take a real hard run at that door.
With hope and courage,