Drift.

I went to my parent’s house after church yesterday and as we were getting ready for lunch I asked them if they had heard about Donald Trump. “Of course we heard. Who hasn’t heard?” It’s true. Who hasn’t heard by now, especially after last night's debate. We were all rightly sickened by his vulgar comments. They were demeaning and degrading, unbecoming of someone who is seeking to hold the highest office in our nation, representing us to the world. On the flip side of this, you’ve got an additional score of emails released from Hillary’s server revealing more details of her past dalliances with deception and cover up and revelations about just how high in rank this duplicity climbs. Both have apologized, kind of, but the words rape culture still hang in the air like a fog because attacks on women ring louder than cellphones smashed by hammers.

So we’ve got these two ludicrous options for President of the United States (yes, I am aware there are a handful of other options) with an election less than a month away and each day seems to bring another wave of information revealing all the ways in which these two people are the jokers we’ve all known them to be. As we read each story or hear the newest broadcast, each party cranks the volume up on why their candidate is better than the other, or at the very least, less terrible than the other, and the rest of the population is left wondering how we ended up here, drowning in the deafening noise of media and the call to fact-check.

I’ve said this before and you can read it elsewhere but “the traits we tend to dislike in others are usually the traits we do not like about ourselves.” We are most offended by others when they reveal something in us. They say everyone we meet is our mirror. Maybe that's why we're all up in arms over these two clowns we have as candidates. They're us. And suddenly we don't like it. It’s all fun and games until our candidates actually reflect the character of our nation.

For example, a little time spent looking at pornography might be "normal" or "harmless" until it’s the same message spewing from the mouth of our wannabe president. A little lying is okay, it's not hurting anyone, until it's on a private email server that goes public. We're annoyed when Donald interrupts Hillary, but we're all yelling and talking over each other or constantly trying to one-up our neighbors and coworkers. We hurl insults out of our own insecurities. We're listening to respond rather than listening to understand. We're brazenly selfish and quietly lining our pockets. We flip flop on how we feel about something depending on whose company we're in because, gosh, we want them to like us. It's like the office of the president was a kind of ideal - the person we wish we could be, the family we wish we had, the brains and integrity and character we strive to - but now suddenly he's just like us, making crude jokes, and we're offended. Suddenly she's just a woman doing what you and I do every day but on a world stage - lying, cheating, elbowing her way to the top. We can’t see it in ourselves, but we see it in other people: backstabbing and betrayal, crooked morals and deplorable little habits.

So maybe what we have before us is exactly what we deserve. Maybe these people are us only magnified and on display. They’re liars and cheaters and hypocrites. I'll be the first to admit that I have been all three. So if it’s true, if they’re a reflection of us and we’re disgusted with what we’re seeing, maybe it's time to take a look inward. Where is your heart? Are you a liar? Have you ever cheated? Have you made a joke that you’d be embarrassed to have shared over a loudspeaker? Do you love money? Power? Position? Have you ever used a lie to cover up another one and another? Have you talked down to those you think are less than?

I was listening to Russell Moore speak the other day regarding the state of our nation. He was saying that our nation is resilient and strong and that it’s not the time to panic or turn to apocalyptic-type thoughts about the outcome of this election. I listened to his words and was able to breathe out. It’s true. It’s not time to panic. But what we need now more than ever is a North Star to point us home because it seems we’re all a little lost in the wilderness holding a broken compass. The problem is a lot of us have always known that North Star was Jesus but we've been too worried about looking cool to ever speak up. We’ve always known that the world needs a little more good news, but we’ve let ourselves get caught up in the yelling and arguing or pointing out faults when our own are glaring. I’ve always loved this truth from D.A. Carson and I think it speaks to where we find ourselves now:

People do not drift toward holiness. Apart from grace-driven effort, people do not gravitate toward godliness, prayer, obedience to Scripture, faith, and delight in the Lord. We drift toward compromise and call it tolerance; we drift toward disobedience and call it freedom; we drift toward superstition and call it faith. We cherish the indiscipline of lost self-control and call it relaxation; we slouch toward prayerlessness and delude ourselves into thinking we have escaped legalism; we slide toward godlessness and convince ourselves we have been liberated.

Slouching toward prayerlessness. Cherishing lost self-control. Where do you find yourself today? Ghandi said, “Be the change...” and yet we’ve contented ourselves to think someone else should go first, namely the leader of our country. So where are you compromising and rationalizing? Where are you picking out the speck in someone else when you’ve got your own log about to knock over everything in your path? 

My word for the year is abide. I told you all this back in December. I really felt like that word was put on my heart but I’ve wrestled with it in terms of application. Then I was listening to a sermon last week and he talked specifically about this word and its use in the Bible. In John 8, Jesus said, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples.” Judah Smith broke that passage down like this:

‘Abide’ means to stay and ‘the word’ is his story. It’s this book [the Bible], it’s his words, a collection of his words… We’ve heard people say, “Read your Bible” but it has become white noise and elevator music... We expect Christians to say, “Read your Bible,” but we’ve lost the mystery, the intrigue, the wonder, the romance, the journey, the treasure hunt that is staying in the story. And that’s all it [Abide in my word] means. Stay in the story. Stay in the story and this will become real. But I’m going to warn you, full disclosure, when you start living in the story, you start living in this book, it is going to begin to affect your schedule. It’s going to affect a Monday or a Tuesday night plan… You stay in the story and it affects how you see your job, and how you do relationship and friendships, it transforms how you see the social constructs of our country because you’re staying in the story… Some of you feel good after Sunday but you know what you’re feeling? You’re feeling the effects of getting back to the story.

We just need to get back to the story. We need a reminder of the story and what we’re about and how this all turns out in the end instead of acting like the next new president is the answer to our country's greatest need. Jennie Allen reminded the other day that kingdoms and nations rise and fall but the one constant, the North Star, the one pointing us onward and forward is Jesus. We can pretend there are other ways around this, that other people or governments or leaders are the answer, but that won’t change the fact that God and his story are the only one to survive thousands of years of attempts to slander and discredit and disregard.

I don’t know what we’re supposed to do in November. We're not responsible for outcomes. But I know there’s one who goes before us and hems us in so more than worry about the next horrible thing that may come out about either candidate or the way in which they’re not fit to lead, because I am confident there will be more, we can really only worry about ourselves and make sure we’re staying in the story. Make sure we're doing our part to be the change. Make sure we’re not slouching toward godlessness but pressing in with ever increasing fervency toward holiness. And maybe as small pockets of people move back toward the story - stay connected to the story - unconcerned with looking cool or having the most followers or feeling like we need to water down the story to make it palatable, maybe we’ll find leaders willing to rise up and do the same.

The collection: part three.

Is this week moving at a glacial pace for anyone else? Yikes. So slow. I was complaining to Aaron earlier in the week and he joked, "Oh, wow. Is the sky falling too?" MAYBE IT IS, AARON. WE DON'T KNOW THAT FOR SURE. 

Anyway, in the meantime, while I wait for December to roll around and I can fly across the ocean back to my heart in Hawaii, here are some interesting things on the internet. 

1. I loved this post about hospitality over on The Nesting Place. Also, if you haven't read Myquillyn's book and you love decorating and house projects, you should order it here on the Amazons. Five gold stars.

2.  Speaking of house projects, ummm, can we talk about this complete remodel by a 22 year old? Super inspiring. I'll move in now, thank you. 

3. Okay, I know this election cycle is a total clown show, but we still have the right to vote and I think it's important. Register to vote RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW. DO IT. I'll drive you to your polling place come November.

4. Have you heard of Scarlet & Gold? In their own words they are "a lifestyle & gift brand seeking to fulfill our mission: Create. Give. Inspire." Check out their site. I totally love this tee and this necklace

5. Andrea Howey is over on Instagram using her gift of handlettering to love and inspire and sometimes her posts are just what my heart needs to hear. She "shares her own story of how God revealed a hidden talent during the hardest season of her life" on this recent podcast

6. Currently listening to this album on repeat.

7. This collection of photos from around the world is amazing. 

8. "You are as intelligent as you want to be." Dr. Caroline Leaf is a cognitive neuroscientist who gives a fascinating TED talk about how the mind can change the brain

9. Stop Taking Pride In Not Knowing How To Do Basic Sh*t. No, seriously. Stop it.

10. Speaking of basic sh*t, Aaron encouraged me to set up an account on Mint to help me budget and actually know what's going on in my bank account. I have a love/hate (heavy on the hate) relationship with money, so this was a big step for me, but you guys, so helpful. And I know you're all a lot more mature than I am so this might be something you did 20 years ago, but still. Helpful.

Love you, mean it. 

The 402 Story Project.

My sweet friend, Jill, started her blog last year with one goal in mind: tell more stories. We always think the stories worth telling are the spectacular ones involving big trips and once in a lifetime experiences. Meanwhile, a lot of life happens in the small and unseen. Those are the stories Jill wants to tell.

Last week, I sat down with her and we talked all things life and purpose. She's telling a bit of my story today over on her blog. Read mine and any of the other stories she's captured HERE

Clarity.

I feel like we need a moment of clarity. Like maybe I wasn’t fully honest and may have led you astray. A couple of months ago I was writing about the waiting room and how I felt like I had been there long enough to know exactly how many ceiling tiles there are and how often the vending machine eats your quarters for its own snack. 

Well, before we get to the clarifying item, a little back story. One thing I didn't tell you about the waiting room is that before that moment with God where he gave me a hard lesson, I generally felt like the girl in this photo. I’ve always had an affinity for fancy. Gold. Glitter. Sparkles. All things pink and girly. Lipstick and luxury. I was the one sitting in the waiting room overdressed with dangly earrings and three inch heels. I have a Pinterest board solely dedicated to fancy. Last fall, I was at The Plaza Hotel. The whole building is glitz and glam and gilded beauty and needless to say, I felt right at home. You’re starting to get the idea. So, I have that picture, the one of the girl in the dress, hunched over, back to the world, hanging above my desk. I saw it on this Tumblr a couple of years ago and resonated with it so much that I ran through the halls of the internet to find out where it originated. I emailed the photographer and asked if I could buy it. I needed that photo because I felt like it told so much of my story in one single image. Gold sparkles and sadness. Glitter and solitude. The story of trying so hard and still being alone. Of falling short again and again. The photographer’s assistant eventually emailed me back and said the print wasn’t available. Well, I hope she doesn't mind since I'm giving her every ounce of credit, but I printed it in a tiny, 4x4 print and hung it above my desk. It is so beautiful and haunting and truthful. Have you ever seen your reflection so clearly in a photo of someone else? This picture felt like the story of my late teens and every single long year of my twenties.

My twenties were marked with striving and failing and hustling, driven by a misunderstanding of the gospel with a heart desperate for love calling the shots from the backseat. I was always trying so hard and giving my very best. I was ready to love hard and jump in with both feet. I was dressed up and ready but I felt constantly let down and left out and unnoticed. I heard one time, “Show me a beautiful girl and I’ll show you someone who is tired of her.” That’s how I felt. The boys I liked always grew tired of me - like I was tolerated at best. I felt like the things I tried for always fell short. People would tell me I could get anyone I wanted, but I’ll tell you what I could get: I could get used easily. I was just naive and trusting enough to make me the perfect candidate for being treated like a beautiful plaything, like a hand-me-down, like a Raggedy Ann doll that you drop off at the Goodwill after a while. I'm partially to blame, I take responsibility for that, but that girl in the photo, it still felt like she was me.

Do you ever feel this way? We put our best self forward, try our best, and then we’re left feeling stupid. Our best efforts aren’t enough so we’re left alone in the sand wondering why we wasted our breath and our time and our energy and our love. This is true for anyone who has put themselves out there only to be rejected. For anyone who has tried their best and still fell short. For anyone who put time into something special for a loved one and it wasn’t appreciated. For anyone who chased their dreams only to be ridiculed by others. For anyone who waited and waited for the apology or the response to a text message or phone call, to anyone who just wanted to hear from that one person, but it never came. For whatever it is that happened that left you in a puddle on the sidewalk. This feeling is shame. Shame and sadness and defeat. So then we turn inward, we harden our shell, we toughen up and vow not to get hurt - never to feel the burn of shame again. I started reading this book and in the opening chapters, one of the authors writes about how we learn to live defensively. I referenced it on Instagram over the weekend. I think that's exactly what I learned to do - what we learn to do after being hurt or used or betrayed - hardening our shell, shrinking away, hiding, or pretending we don't feel at all. 

I used to be passive in my own life. I sat and waited for someone to hit the start button. I let things happen to me and then cried about them later rather than take the reins and own my choices. I was sabotaging my life – basically punching myself in the face and then asking everyone else, endlessly, why I had a black eye. But one day I realized that it was time to get up. I didn't want to be a pile of glitter in the sand anymore. And maybe one day you'll realize, like me, that you’re watching your life go by, complaining about how this or that didn’t work out for you, how this person wronged you, how you’re the victim in one thing or another, meanwhile everyone else is making something of their life. Maybe you were the victim of some awful, awful thing, but how long, how many years is enough to let that thing define you and keep you in the sand? I read this quote from Brene Brown a couple weeks ago,

“Our job is not to deny the story, but to defy the ending – to rise strong, recognize our story and rumble with the truth until we get to a place where we think, Yes, this is what happened. This is my truth and I will choose how this story ends.

You don’t have to let someone else write the ending or hold the keys to your story.  You don't have to let their actions, or the actions and decisions you made on your own, define your life. I decided I wanted to write the end to my own story. I decided I wanted to get up out of the sand. Despite the things that happened to me and I let happen to me, despite the way I was treated and the way I treated others, despite the breaks I did or didn’t get in career or relationship, I just wanted to be the author of my story. I wanted to take the pen back from whatever I let form the words for too long. 

I ended that post about the waiting room by saying that I think I finally heard my name called. Remember that? I left you thinking that I left the waiting room and hooray for me! because I don’t have to sit there anymore. So the thing I want to clarify, the thing that maybe led you astray, the thing that perhaps you took away from that old post and you shouldn’t have is this: hearing my name called in the waiting room did not solve all of my problems. Hearing my name called did not get me up out of the sand and it was not the start to my life. Aaron did not save me. He didn’t rescue me from sitting in the sand in a beautiful dress. Aaron didn’t and can’t save me at all. He has no power to and I don’t need or want him to do that. It’s not his role in my life and it's not my role in his, just like no spouse or relationship or other person can save you or fix you or complete you. A relationship is not the key to your joy. Certainly, Aaron has added to my life in a lot of really wonderful ways, but I don’t feel like he has completed me in any sense of the word. I was already seeking my own wholeness before he ever came along. I was already running after the truth about who I was and why I didn't have to sit in the corner and wait for someone else to pick up the pen and write the next couple of chapters. This is why I am so adamant that we use our words because I want you so desperately to be the author of your own life.

So if this is your story, if looking at that picture resonated with you in any way, hear me say that you don’t have to be huddled up in the sand. You don't have to have the hard exterior to avoid the feeling of shame. At the time I found this photo, I felt like I was constantly walking around in a fighter stance, fists up, muscles tensed, ready for the next blow I might have to survive. But then I decided that one of my goals was to stay soft, unclench my fists, and be open to whatever might come next. To hold out my hand and not recoil at the slightest hint of pain. I decided to lay down my weapons at the feet of the only one who has the power to disarm.

And when you decide to get up, when you decide to soften, there are things that will want to put you back in a pile on the shore. Sometimes it feels like everything in life wants to keep you there on the sidelines licking your wounds. I've wanted to go back there often. And you can. You can sit there for years and years and people will tell you to get up until they’re blue in the face, they'll tell you why you have that black eye and maybe tell you all the reasons why it's not your fault, but until you realize that the pen is in your hand, you will never move. You’ll be huddled up, back to the world, waiting. I know. I was that girl.

So I guess this is just another call to get up. Start walking. Start leaning toward wholeness. Lay down your arms. Drop the defenses. Don't wait for someone to save you or call you out of the waiting room. Take the first step. Make the first call. Even if they should do it first but won’t. This is about you. This is about not hugging your knees in the corner, replaying all the ways you’ve been hurt by the world, but rather walking into the light, making peace, forging a new path, writing a new story, chasing dreams, and even if you're still waiting, waiting well. I believe this has so much to do with Jesus, but maybe you aren't there yet and that's okay. If you're reading this right now, I trust that he's coming for you - I know it because I'm praying that for you right now even as you read this.

I'm out of one waiting room, that part is still true, but there will always be a new one to enter. What they don't tell you is that after they call your name, no matter what you were waiting for, you enter this long hallway that only leads to other waiting rooms. The question is, how will you wait? I'll probably always be wearing the sparkly dress but that picture above my desk doesn't feel like me anymore. I'm not the person I was when I found the photo. But I like to look at it sometimes and remember where I came from and remind myself that I don’t have to go back there again. Neither do you.