interrupted: when jesus wrecks your comfortable christianity

let it be known.

i love jen hatmaker {if you don't know who she is, go here and educate yourself}.

i love her blog, i love her new hgtv show, i love her books.

i love it all.

so much so that i may have spent an afternoon watching any youtube video connected to her.

i know, slightly weird, but i couldn't help myself.

my sister shares my same love {obviously}, and so, a couple months back when jen sent out an email offering a free copy of her book interrupted to the first 250 bloggers who responded to the email, i was all in {now, my sister may have thought if you responded to the email you got to meet jen hatmaker, but that's neither here nor there}.

now just to let you know...

this is the kind of book that can mess you up.

it's the kind of book that may cause you to shout "AMEN" at your dog.

it's the kind of book that speaks to the core of who you are and makes you wonder if you've been doing things all wrong for your whole life.

it's also the kind of book that makes you sigh in relief and say, "thank God it's not just me."

it's the kind of book that sticks with you, and convicts you, and changes you.

 interrupted is a story of transformation. a story of how God called jen and her family to a life of service to the least. to creating a church where people didn't just go to church, but they were the church. 

and it was convicting, to put it mildly.

i think i was most powerfully struck as i read by the responsibility that comes when we say yes to God.
because if everything is true, if what i say i believe is what i actually believe, then that has to profoundly impact the way that i live.
it has to change the way i use my money, and the people i spend time with, and my desire to be comfortable, and all the ways i try to preserve my own ego.
it has to transform me in such a way that i stop waiting for a church, or an event, or a system to love my neighbor.
i have to just go out and do it.

because the truth is, people don't need another event, or another service, or a run in with the morality police.
people need relationships with other people who love God and who love them with honesty and sincerity.

one of the hardest parts for me in all this {minus the fact that it's all hard} is the redefining of who my neighbor is.
my neighbor is not just those who look like me and talk like me.
it's not just the ones who are easy to love and show appreciation.

it's the ones who would rank in the "least of these" category.
the ones i like to pretend i don't see.
the ones who make me feel uncomfortable but whose need is unmistakable.

if i'm honest, i know how much i fall short.
i am in constant need of God's grace and the ability to actually listen to what he is saying.
but i can't ignore the Bible when it says "whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me."

bottom line...
i want to try.
i want to ask.
i want to become.
i want to love.
in ways that follow Jesus, wherever he leads.
even if it's uncomfortable, or scary, or dark.
because that is where his light is needed the very most.

so i guess i say all that to say, if any of this rings true with you, read this book.
and ask God to help you to listen for what he has been saying since the very beginning.

my sister has called my copy first, but anyone is welcome to it after she's done:)

 

lies and truth.

i had an epiphany last week.

it happened while talking to a co-worker after school.

we were discussing our shakespeare unit and what we are trying.

what's working and what's not working. 

now the epiphany had nothing to do with lesson plans, or shakespeare, or tests or quizzes, or keeping kids accountable. 

but it did have everything to do with the lies we believe about ourselves. 

lies we believe as educators.

lies that permeate our thoughts and tell us that we are failing constantly and everyone else has it all together and we should probably just quit before we ruin these young minds for the rest of eternity.

these lies are severe and dramatic but very, very real.

and we are all silently believing them and thinking we are somehow alone.

but as i talked with my co-worker, i felt this sense of relief.

this "you too?" 

this exhale.

and as soon as we named it and talked about it, i was reminded that this lie is a LIE.

when i really think about it, i know that we are all working so hard and doing our very best every single day, successes and failures included.

i am not a perfect teacher, but i am not the scum of the earth either.

and i think i've spent too much mental energy feeling like the scum.

now the moment we brought this lie into the open and talked about it, it had a name and a face.

it started to lose its power.

and i guess that made me think about all the lies we believe every day.

we live them in silence.

and if we are not careful, they become our truth.

they start to call the shots, and we blindly follow their lead.

we live with these distorted ideas of our relationships, and self worth, and identity.

and we just have to STOP it already.

we have to start talking and admitting and speaking truth to each other.
we have to be open and honest and brave.
we have to admit our struggles and how we feel because if we don't speak it out, it can destroy us.

and really, what good does it do the world if we live with these lies in our souls?
what good does it do to think you're scum?

so i say all that to say, you're not the best, but you're not the worst either.
and i promise, when you admit the craziness in your own head, you'll probably leave with a sense of relief, a sense of "you too?", a sense that you are not alone, and a sense of peace that the lie doesn't feel so much like the truth anymore.

you'll feel just a little more free.

 

on lent.

{via}

growing up, i barely knew anything about lent.

the extent of my knowledge demonstrated itself when i thought people who walked around with ashes on their heads for ash wednesday didn't realize they had dirt on their faces.

{awkward.}

needless to say, i was clueless.

now that i go to an anglican church, i've learned a bit about the liturgy and church calendar and common practices as we walk through it together.

and instead of thinking these things are somewhat too catholic and possibly evil {as my upbringing slightly alluded to}, i've started to really value and appreciate these rituals and practices and welcome them into my life.

enter lent.

i decided to participate this year because i was beginning to feel like my desires were running the show and everything felt very noisy and my priorities felt askew and i didn't like it. 

i needed to take time to refocus.

quiet some of the noise.

turn to God.

and listen.

lent began with ash wednesday at church, where i was reminded that i am dust.

that life is so very momentary and yet, there is redemption because of the cross.

it was sobering and yet so very hopeful.

i left feeling reaffirmed in my desire to quiet myself during this season and be reminded of what is true.

i chose to give up facebook and instagram for lent this year because it was getting pretty embarrassing how much time and energy i was putting into reading status updates…

 and wanting "likes"…

 and subconsciously looking at moments for what they could give me, how they could elevate my own ego, and make me look good to the world wide web, instead of just living in the moment with no ulterior motives.

it's only been a few days living without updates and filters, but i think it's good and much needed.

i'm expectant during this season.

i am hopeful that as i quiet myself and look to God that i will be reminded of my need for Him.

that in disconnecting myself from some things, i will feel a deeper connection to all the things that truly matter.

 

i'm not trying to trick you.

i've been thinking lately about obedience.

about following God through all the opportunities that make an appearance in closed doors and open doors and slightly cracked doors and bolted shut doors.

about doing something with my life that is meaningful and honors God.

a life that follows, listens, and obeys.

but if i'm honest, i think i've always looked at obedience as a giant puzzle to figure out.

that God puts opportunities in front of me and stands back, waiting to punish me when i can't put it all together, no matter how hard i try.

i've operated with the mentality that "God's will" is just a big trick and my choices create a laundry list of disappointment in the eyes of God.

He stands back and shakes His head wondering, "will you ever get it, hannah?"

but last saturday, i took a walk.

i was feeling the weight of all of this. 

basically struggling with listening and obeying and feeling like a big screw up. 

but as i walked and admired the leaves and took in the crisp fall air, i was reminded of grace.
the freedom that comes from opportunities.
that God is the author of life, and He puts situations in our path and we follow, and if we do make a big mess of things, that He is a God who redeems.

He is not trying to trick me.

i can breath and follow and trust, without fear that i am somehow disappointing Him.
and really, even on my best day, i am in dire need of His grace to function, so the idea that i could ever be good enough or make enough "right" choices is pretty ridiculous in the first place.

i'm thankful for this truth today.
for grace in every moment, faith to follow God in my humanity, and the redemption that covers it all.


"for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure." 
philippians 2:13

 

on being content.

that whole "wishing things were different" mentality? 

 yeah, i'm over it.

why? 

well, let me tell you...

today, a student called me "mom" by mistake. 

i talked a kid down from feeling like an utter and complete failure. 

we had a time for celebration in my advisory class, clapping and cheering because one of my boys was getting a "b" in science.

i watched a coworker cry as she received an amazing award, while telling her students how much she loves and believes in them.

kids are loving our class book (well, most of them).

i ran with coworkers after school, like we do most days. we have come so far together, and we're pretty proud of ourselves. 

i came home to mr. lesley making dinner, sir winston with a tail flapping furiously, and a neighbor who informed us that technically he is still married to a woman from Africa. (that guy has some crazy stories, and i love it). 

i guess i say all that to say that i am finding a place of contentment, and it is such a freeing feeling.

i spent so much time last year wishing things were different, better, not so difficult. 

i cried so many tears and pleaded with God to change my situation.

and what i've realized in the last month or so is that instead of changing my situation...

slowly but surely, God changed me. 

i walk into my days with a renewed sense of peace and hope like i have never felt before. 

and i am so thankful.

there is always a season. 

some are so hard you forget who you are and where you're going and why you even exist in the first place.

but, there are also seasons of peace and gratitude and the overwhelming sense that there is purpose and design in your days.

God is very gracious to me. 

i am thankful for these days when i feel content.

i pray that this feeling wouldn't leave, despite the ups and downs life will inevitably bring.

that i would cling to peace. 

that i would choose hope. 

that i would see things as they are, not wish they were different, and respond with thanksgiving.

 

up to the mountains.

i spent saturday and sunday up in the mountains camping with my church.

{while mr. lesley fished and canoed with his dad in the boundary waters in minnesota}

the weekend began as the rain made an appearance, just in time for me to take the most perfect of all naps, lulled to sleep by the rain slapping against the tent. 

when the skies cleared, it was time for an olympic competition for the masses.

there were water balloons, and tarps, and running around mini bases, and balloons, and a lot of laughter. 

as the day faded into night, we chatted around the campfire, and over a potato bar, and while stuffing our faces with banana boats {changed my life} and s'mores with peanut butter, and on a night hike to see the starts without the city lights getting in the way.

on sunday morning, i went on a nature hike and admired the beauty of a creation that God alone sustains.

it's nice to be reminded that He doesn't need any of us. 

creation gives the best sucker punches to our pride.

it's best that way.

our sunday service was a time of reflection.

we shared the things we had learned over the past year, how God had worked in us, and what the church had meant in our lives during it all.

a lot of us, myself included, shared about the difficulty of the past year. 

it was full of challenges and hardships for many of us. 

and as i sat and reflected on all the in-between happenings between last year's camping trip and this past sunday, i was reminded of all the moments life felt very hard, and yet how close I felt to God during those times. 

as much as we want happiness and ease, it's in the times of trial that we learn and grow and see most clearly our need for God.

and in the difficulty we realize that He is there.

a lot of times more accurately than when life is carefree and comfortable and happy.

we took communion together and were reminded that the God who created the mountains so beautifully displayed in the distance, also became emmanuel "God with us." 

that all of creation belongs to Him, including all of us, even, and especially in our brokenness and need.

we remembered him this weekend.

his creation helped to clear our minds of clutter and distraction

and to receive his many gifts with open hands and thankful hearts.

what a privilege it is to be his church.

hope.

in the business of my days, i have felt hope.

i feel it...

in the early morning drives to school, as it becomes a close companion. 

i feel it...

as i sip my coffee, put away my bags, and get things organized for the day.

 i hear its constant reminders.

i feel it....

in the students i am beginning to love.

 in the seemingly impossible tasks set before me, i am not overcome. 

i feel it...

as i run mile after mile, my feet pounding the pavement with each step.

 i know that life is good and valuable and precious.

i feel it...

in those moments where marriage takes grit and time and communication.

it is filling my heart with expectancy.

i feel it...

in my photography that is becoming more than just a hobby.

my heart is becoming strong and courageous. 

i feel it...

when i pray and cry and ask God questions and hear his gentle whispers.

this hope is my anchor.

i am choosing, day by day, to make this hope my most faithful of friends.

 

disappointment with God.

i still remember sitting in my little christian school third grade classroom, where we daily took prayer requests.

even after all these years, my prayer requests for my mom to "feel better" appear in my mind as vivid as ever.

i was just a child.

full of child-like faith and hope.

and yet, my prayer wasn't answered. 

my mom died in 1993 so suddenly that we didn't even have a chance to really plead, or hold prayer meetings, or have enough faith.

she was just gone.

and there was nothing we could do about it.

as i grew up and spent more and more time in church, listening to sermons and trying to be a "good" christian, i believed the deeper my faith and the more sincerely i asked God to answer my prayers, the more apt he would be to listen and answer.

and yet, i kept coming back to my mom, and her death, and my prayers that were not answered. 

and it didn't make sense. 

it all felt a lot like manipulation. 

"God, you owe me a, b, and c. look at my faith. i really believe you can do it. scout's honor." 

but what do we do when he doesn't answer?

when people die, and relationships end, and families fall apart.

and there is no resolution or silver lining. 

and we are left...disappointed (to say the least). 

how does faith and trust continue when it doesn't seem like God is responding to our faith? 

or life completely blindsides us with tragedy we didn't even have a chance to have faith for? 

i frequently wish i was the christian who had all the answers. 

who could map out the plans of God and explain away all hurt and suffering.

but unfortunately, i'm just a human and the mind of God is lightyears beyond me.

i do believe though that this faith we have is a mystery. 

and that same mystery that causes us to question, is the same mystery that makes faith worth holding onto.

it makes it beautiful and so much bigger than us.

but i guess today, what i keep coming back to, is that for all of you who suffer, all of you who have experienced loss and tragedy, all of you who question and doubt...

true faith is not afraid of admitting disappointment or anger or rage. 

maybe someday clarity will come or maybe it won't. 

but we are all in the same place.

navigating the questions and doubts and joys and tragedies together.

praying. trusting. hoping.

even in the midst of all our disappointments.

trusting that God knows exactly what he's doing with us.

*a lot of my thoughts today were inspired by will gray's story.
a man i have never met who has taught me more about faith through suffering than just about anyone.
read his story here.

authentic faith.

i spent this past weekend up in the mountains on our annual church women's retreat. 

{if the term "women's retreat" gives you hives, you should probably read this lady's post.}

it was great and totally hive free. 

there was delicious food, a plethora of snacks, time in the hot tub and sauna, a spa afternoon complete with manis/pedis/and massages, a plenty of kleenex (duh), great music, free time to read and relax, and a lot of quality moments with some wonderful women.

but more than all of that, this weekend gave me an opportunity to reflect on my faith, something i don't do nearly enough.

and the one question i kept going back to all weekend was "what does true, authentic faith look like?" 

growing up as a christian for what seems like my entire life, it feels strange to come back to a question like this. i tell myself that i should already know the answer. i should be able to tell you and show you what faith looks like. but as times have changed, i have too. and the significance of the answer to this question seems more necessary now than it ever did.

i knew what faith looked like in my christian school growing up.

i knew what it looked like in youth group.

i knew what it was and definitely wasn't as i spent four years at a christian college. 

and i knew what it meant when i taught and served in china. 

but now, in an everyday life that is less "christian culture-ish," i find myself searching for authenticity in my faith more than ever. 

so while reflecting this weekend on what i wanted my faith to look like, i wrote the first things that came to mind...

my greatest desire is for deep, authentic faith. faith that isn't dependent on circumstances or emotions. faith that does not repel but draws people in. faith that is honest. faith that does not hide struggle and doubt. faith that elevates God and not divisive ideals. faith that is not based on my own strivings. faith that doesn't create insiders and outsiders. faith that permeates every moment of every day. faith that listens. faith that responds.

these reflections and questions come in the wake of a lot of conversations with one of my favorite people kari, as she navigates her questions, doubts, and past experiences with church, and faith, and Jesus. 

her questions get to the core of it.

and they were the inspiration for this time of self reflection.

and because of her and so many others like her, i want my faith to be real. 

i want it to be characterized by love and authenticity and hope and faithfulness. 

i want to live the reality of it in a world that tires of our christian sub culture, that tires of our politics, that tires of our divisive facebook comments. 

so without all the answers, i continue to pray that God would show me, in each and every moment, what faithfulness looks like. 

so whether i'm teaching, or being a wife, or walking sir winston, or enjoying a happy hour margarita, or spending the weekend on a women's retreat, that my life would be a testament that real, authentic faith makes a difference.

a lesson from spring.

a few weeks ago at church, they announced that they would be collecting photos of "new life" to use for power points, weekly bulletins, and the website, and they encouraged everyone to participate and be on the lookout for inspiration as we celebrate easter and the coming of spring.

since i can never resist a photo challenge, i started my search yesterday afternoon on a walk with mr. lesley and sir winston in the afternoon sun.

and i learned something as i walked...

i learned that you see a lot more of the good stuff when you are trying to find the good stuff.

flower buds that would normally evade my gaze now stood out to me. 

the reds and yellows that can sometimes fade into the background suddenly invaded my view.

and because i was looking, i saw it.

of course most of the trees are still barren and the grass may still be dry. 

but because i was focusing on the flowers that practically scream "new life" i didn't have a chance to notice. 

now the life parallels here are quite apparent, especially for me.

this winter was hard.

the cold of it seemed to permeate my every day.

it felt dark. 

it felt never-ending. 

it felt like a lot of anxiety and questions and doubts.

but, now it is spring.

figuratively and literally.

i feel new strength and grace to seek out the good and to know that beauty is there, sometimes {well, a lot of times} right in front of my face. 

this is so different from pretending life is perfect or avoiding the difficulties; instead, it is choosing where to focus your gaze. 

i'm thankful for the changing of seasons...

for the reminders of where i should be looking...

and the good stuff to be found when simply choose to see it.

exactly what i needed.

because sometimes for the sake of your soul, you just have to...

::pack up your enormous chevy tahoe that makes you feel like a rapper/soccer mom {gotta love the randomness of a rental car}::

::hightail it to the mountains:: 

::stop on the way for a little oskar blues beer and eats {i drank wine, but whatever}::

::light a big fire as soon as you arrive at your home away from home::

::spend the whole weekend with your church small group, who just happen to be some of your favorite people::

::take time to soak in the views and stop to watch the falling snow::

::stay in your pajamas for as long as possible and take intermittent naps whenever the mood strikes::

::forget what it feels like to be hungry::

::play ridiculous trivia games while painting your nails at the dining room table::

::make breakfast strombolis that taste delicious::

::sit in the sun and read for pleasure::

::got out on the town for margaritas and mexican food::

::share your story, the silly ones and the ones that make you cry::

::celebrate each other with a mimosa in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other::

::pray together in the quiet of the morning::

::be incredibly grateful for such amazing people to share in the journey::