One Word for 2013

I am not good at resolutions. I have a way of getting really excited about something and then once the initial excitement wears off I'm over it. I fully plan and commit to it at first and then after busyness and reality starts back up I forget them. However, I am good at remembering one thing and coming back to it and meditating on it and since I like to stick to things I'm good at…I have decided to pick one word to focus on this year of 2013. Come to find out there's a whole online community that partakes in this challenge. They explain it like this: 

Forget New Year’s Resolutions. Scrap that long list of goals you won’t remember three weeks from now anyway. Choose just one word.

One word that sums up who you want to be or how you want to live. One word that you can focus on every day, all year long.

Find out more about One Word 365 here.

I've been thinking about what word to choose for a couple of days now. The first word that popped into my head is the one I've been trying to avoid and it keeps coming back. I hesitate because it exposes me and reveals what I'm not always good at it (remember what I said earlier). I hesitate because I feel like choosing it is flinging open the doors of opportunity for me to grow in this area and that freaks me out. I know, I know...it's just a word, but it means more to me than just that. So here goes nothing…my word for 2013:

More to come about this in the next blog post. Stay tuned...

I went to Africa once upon a time…it wrecked my life.

 I can’t believe it was four years ago. It seriously seems like just yesterday. I can’t watch a commercial, see a picture, or even hear something about Africa without my heart aching. It’s hard to explain to people truly what Africa meant to me, so I usually just don’t.

Last night I attended the Mocha Club Birthday Bash Concert…it was incredible and the Mocha Club is doing some pretty great things. I am so glad I went and that I got to hear some of my favorite artists, but I also regret it a little. I regret it because I had tears in my eyes and my heart was heavy the whole time. Images of Zambia flashed through my mind. I can’t help but feel a little bit of a tug that I’m supposed to be there. Sometimes I intentionally avoid things that make me think of Africa because I don't always love having to deal with these emotions. It’s easier to just block it all out.

Honestly, I don’t know how to deal with these emotions or how to reconcile the tension and conflict it brings into my heart and my head. I love what I do and I believe I’m right where God would have me right now, but I can’t deny that a little part of my heart will always belong in Zambia. Because as hard as I try sometimes I will always remember…

I will always remember holding a sweet baby with AIDS who wasn’t expected to live past her 2^nd birthday.

I will always remember experiencing the hospitality of the beautiful people there and how they made room for us.

I will always remember the joy, hope and peace on people’s faces when they talked about how regardless of their material possessions they knew where their hope came from.

I will always remember the despair of the sick and diseased children and mother’s swarming us because they thought we could help.

I will always remember thinking; this is who I’m not supposed to forget.

I will always remember being so thankful that the people I met choose to love me.

I will always remember the beauty and wonder of seeing Victoria Falls for the first time and thinking if God cares enough to make something this beautiful, how much more does he care about all the brokenness we’ve experienced.

I will always remember stretching out to hold the hand of a woman with TB who we were praying for because we couldn’t stand the idea that she hadn’t experienced physical touch.

I will always remember the joy of watching a little girl look at herself on the side of our car because it was the first time she had seen her reflection.

I will always remember coming to the realization that I wasn’t there to save anyone or be anyone’s savior but to learn the fact that they had it right in so many ways. They love each other so well, they knew what it meant to be Jesus to someone, they knew, that God’s Kingdom is here and now and that there’s work to be done. They didn't blame God for the brokenness, but gave thanks to Him for allowing them to live each day.

I don’t say this to bring up feelings of guilt or thoughts of  “those poor people”, but I just don’t want to forget. I can’t forget. It’s all part of my story. Sometimes it’s part of my story that I don’t let myself think about. Sometime it’s part of my story I celebrate. Sometimes it’s part of my story I just acknowledge. But it’s part of my story that wrecked my life and I haven’t been the same since.

Windows.

Tonight I laid on my bed with my window open. There was a Kenny Chesney/Tim McGraw concert happening at LP Field and I could hear it clearly from inside my house so I decided, "Why not listen for free to a concert people had to pay lots of money to hear." The advantages of living in Nashville and close to downtown. Anyway...


The concert ended and I left the window open. So many sounds permeated my house. Cars driving by. People walking by talking. Sirens. Dogs barking. Bugs making noise and birds chirping from the overgrown lot next door. Car horns. City life.


Then I shut my window and closed the blinds. Some sounds disappeared...some sounds were muted. 


As soon as I shut the window I felt less connected, less in tune with what was going on outside, less like anyone out there would actually want to know what was going on inside. Now I was just alone.


I feel like I do this to life sometimes, shut the window and close the blinds. I don't want to be brought into anymore brokenness and I don't want to experience any more of the pain that is reality. I deceive myself into thinking that the world is muted and start looking inward because that's a whole lot easier than giving a damn. Somtimes I'm deceived into believing I am alone and no one out there really wants to know that I'm here. I am deceived in believing I am okay alone and why would the people around me really want to know what's going on with me...if I'm truly vulnerable maybe people wouldn't like me anymore. 

Then God pulls the blinds up and opens this window of my soul and...

I'm reminded of the community I have around me.
I'm completely honest with a friend and instead of passing judgement, they look past my messiness and continue to listen and love me.
I'm reminded that God seeks to redeem this world and the brokenness in it and He intends to use us to do that.
Old friendships are strengthened and new friendships are started and it's an affirmation of the fact that we're called to live this life together.

I realize that when I pray continually for God to break my heart for what breaks His and to give me eyes to see...He's just answering that prayer.

I'm re-connected to my community, this city, this world and I know that what makes me valuable is the  fact that I am a child of God who is defined by that and nothing else and that He has called me to give a damn because He does.

Maybe I need to start keeping the windows open more often.

Women.

Single woman. Smart woman. Woman in ministry. Independent woman. Woman hoping to be married someday. Woman living out her calling. Woman who is a leader. Woman capable of more than people give her credit for.

This is me. I am all those things. And quite simply, obviously, I am a woman. I've been burdened lately with the fact that the world and unfortunately, the "Christian" world especially doesn't think all these things are okay. 

I hear things like "God's intention for Christianity is for it to have a masculine feel" (said by a pretty famous and popular Christian leader). No, I don't think that's true at all. God created us in His image...and he created male and female so how do we get away with saying God has a "masculine feel"? I heard someone say once, "Only in both male and female can we fully understand God's image. We can't understand God just looking at male or just female." (Rachel Held Evans is doing a series on this...it's a great post so make sure to read it here!!)

This post originally had a different "feel" and was a bit more cynical and angry. There are plenty of things I could say out of anger...and I believe justified anger, but I don't want this to be just a rant. A friend suggested I went more of the constructive route. Yes, I am tired of being challenged by brothers and sisters in Christ telling me woman shouldn't be in my "type" of ministry. Tired of hearing stories of Christian leaders who don't support women in their calling. Tired of people looking over or not acknowledging how important women were in the Bible and in the story of Jesus (See a great blog on this here). 

I want all women to be encouraged in their calling. Some women are wives and mothers, some women are nuns, some women are single, some are executives, some are teachers, some are in ministry, etc. All those things are great. God gives us each a unique calling...I just want you to feel encouraged in that calling. Know whether or not it fits in the box of "typical" and "traditional" things women have done, it's more than okay not to fit in a box.

I want women to know they are valuable and worthy. They can be confident in the calling God has placed in their lives and know that God didn't make a "weaker" sex. I want my brothers and sisters in Christ to know and believe these words from Frank Viola (see blog link below):

Brothers, honor your sisters in the Kingdom of God. For God honors them. When our Lord pulled Eve out of Adam, He didn’t take her out of his feet below him. Nor did He take her out from his head above him. He took her out of his side.

Sisters, you are fellow heirs in the Kingdom of God. You are fellow priests in the church of God. You are honored. You are cherished. You are valuable. You are needed.

Men. Women. Father. Mother. Single. Married. Wife. Husband. Student. Teacher. Executive. Minister. We are all part of the family. One is not better than another...we all just are. 

There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

Galations 3:28

If you agree or disagree, please read Frank Viola's blog here because he says it way better than I can.

Stars.

At the after-school program on Monday I was helping a group make thank-you cards for their teachers. This was my conversation with a 2nd grader.

2nd grader: "I want to put stars on mine!"
Me: "Okay, that would be perfect. Just draw some on there."
2nd grader with tears in her eyes: "But Miss Abby I don't know how to make stars!"
Me: "Well today you're going to learn and you're going to be the best star-maker ever!"


The next ten minutes or so were spent teaching this precious little child how to make stars. She caught on quickly and was very proud of herself. Here is her practice sheet.

Quite honestly, I was excited too. It was great seeing her face light up and see her excitement and precision as she put each star on her teacher's card. When her mom arrived we both went up to her excited to show her this new talent. Her mom looked at us blankly, gave a polite nod and said, "Let's go we're late." Both our faces fell. I was so sad her mom didn't join in our celebration.

Fast forward to today. We had a final fun day at the after-school program because it's the last day of the school year. It was the end of the day and I was tired and more than ready to be done when this same little girl came up to me, held up the craft we had made and said excitedly, "Miss Abby, look!" I glanced up as I gathered my things and said, "That's nice". Her face fell. I looked closer and saw all the tiny stars she had drawn. I immediately looked her in the eye and with genuine enthusiasm told her, "Oh my goodness look at those beautiful stars.  You are so good at making those!" And her eyes lit up and the smile was back on her face.

I don't say this to draw attention to a mother who isn't the most attentive, a 2nd graders success in drawing, or my ability as a master teacher of star-making (haha), but it just made me think about how often we pass up the opportunities each day to find joy in the little things. How I got so excited about something one day and the next day miss it because I can't see through the busyness and tiredness of my own little world.

What if we took the time to truly enjoy the little things in life? What if we saw the world through the eyes of a child and realized how joy can be found in the small things like learning to draw a star for the first time, seeing the first firefly of the year, or capturing a lady bug? What if we just stopped for a moment each day to be thankful for what we have? What if?