Everyone Is Living A Story

Don't judge a book by its cover.

It's such a cliche'.

And yet this is what I do....literally.  If I don't have a specific book in mind when I head to the library, then I can be found roaming the shelves, opening myself up to the callings of each cover design and title font. How else do you pick out a good read without knowing the content?

Unfortunately, I do this with people too.  I've always been a people watcher.  There have been times when Vaughn and I are out on a date and he will stop mid-sentence because he's lost me.  He waits, as he realizes that I have been sucked into observing someone from across the room.  When I realize he's quit talking, I apologize, and then I quickly fill him in on what I'm pretty sure is happening in the adjacent conversation.  Pathetic, I know!

To people watch is one thing, to make judgement calls as a result is something entirely different.  Sadly, I am guilty of both.  Lately, I've had a number of opportunities to interact with groups of women I didn't really know.  After giving myself the 'ole pep talk, you know the one that sounds like, "Just be yourself...Your beauty comes from the inside...People like someone who is easy to talk to and likes to laugh...yada, yada, yada." (Do we ever get over this stuff?) I dove into the groups.  And low and behold, not everyone seemed as happy to meet me as I was to meet them.

Ok, maybe that's an exaggeration, since we didn't really know each other, we weren't really officially meeting, and we were just interacting in a larger group.  But I was watching them, and there was something there.

I assumed the worst...and the judgements began.  My thoughts may or may not have included the following, "They seem very closed off...I don't think they really like me...You know what? They don't have to like me, I don't need them as a friend...What is their problem?...I feel like they're judging me...They seem very arrogant."...and on and on it goes

Until I decide to bail, because nobody likes to feel judged! (ironic, right? It's just kind of sick...)

And here is where I experienced the whiplash of a hard lesson learned.  After my time with these ladies was over, I began to hear some of their stories from others who knew them better than I.  Stories that involved tragedy and loss.  Stories that took my breath away and made me rethink all I had to be thankful for.  Stories that were still being written with women clinging to the hope of a happier chapter ahead.

As I listened, my heart desperately desired a "do over".  I wanted nothing more than to have another chance to love on these women, to serve them and bless them, to be the hands of Jesus in any way that I could for them.  But our time together had passed.  And I was left still worried about protecting myself, and making judgment calls instead of remembering that everyone is living their own story.

Sometimes we get to hear these stories, and when we do it connects with something in us and there is little that can stop us from pouring out.  But I'm realizing that there may very well be times that I never know the story.  What then?  What brings me to a place of looking outside of myself?  What motivates me to serve and love, all at the risk of not knowing how it will be received?

My heart knows the answer is obedience.  My Jesus calls me to love, to bless and to serve.  I have assumed the role of deciding who gets to experience this part of me, but that role is not mine.  My role is to simply remember what it means to walk obediently before and in place of choosing to judge, and to love and serve anyone the Father brings into my story, whether I know theirs or not.

To My Girls -- My prayer is that you will always have gracious hearts, seeing the good in others, always being willing to put yourself in someone else's shoes in place of judgement.  You will never regret making the effort to love generously and well.

My Weekend At The Craft House

I don't love to cook, and I don't feel like I'm very creative...but I love to eat and I absolutely swoon over pretty things.  So, when my friends asked me to come be a helper at Craft Weekend how could I say no?  I figured I'd make up for my lack of skills by being the best dang dish washer, kitchen cleaner, margarita pourer and coffee server I could be!

So last weekend I flew out on Thursday and got to spend a little extra one on one time with Kimberlee and Meg before all the ladies arrived.

 I have to say it makes my heart happy that these two friends of mine from different seasons of my life found each other.  They make the most amazing team! There's just something about watching someone minister out of their gift mix, and these two are doing just that!  I'm blessed to call them friends, and to have the opportunity to watch them in action.

I also love any opportunity to spend time with other women.  I'm a people watcher, so it was a thrill for me to just watch these ladies create, interact, and be filled.  Hearing their laughter made me smile.  Hearing some of their stories made me feel.  Watching them in this creative environment inspired me.

And then I had the privilege to serve them.  These ladies who are wives, mommas, sisters, friends, and caregivers, each one with their own story, each one taking time for themselves, and I had the honor of giving them the chance to be served even if just for a few days.

I'll be honest in saying, serving is always WAY more fun when it involves Kimberlee's cooking! These are single serving pot pies.  So fun, right? And de-lish!

Everything she made was TO...DIE...FOR!!!!!  And she does it with such ease.  She's one of those that half the time she doesn't even measure her ingredients and it turns out beautifully...blows my mind!

I'm fairly certain heaven will involve scenes like this...

with big farm tables of amazing food, surrounded by friends, and beauty, and laughter!

The ladies crafted late into the night.  I am always in awe of those who are wired with a deep creativity.  Meg is always gracious to me knowing my creative insecurities.  I remember being captured by her artistic ability early on as we grew up together.  We are all created in the image of God, it is evident that God imparted His creative side into Meg when she was formed in her mother's womb.

She walked me through making this cuff...I have to admit, I'm in love!

The best part of these weekends for me is always the connecting.  The sharing of hearts, the listening, the telling, the encouraging, maybe even the crying (it just has to be done sometimes).  It doesn't matter to me where it happens, be it in the van on the way home from the barn, or across the Starbucks table waiting for my flight.  My heart is at home when I'm able to connect with those I love.

So, thanks Kimberlee and Meg! Thanks for inviting me, and thanks for sharing life with me, even if it does span state lines with long months in between.  You two are awesome at what you do and it's a blessing to watch you minister and serve others! Love you both!!!!!

To My Girls -- My prayer is that you will always have a friend who knows you.  A friend who brings out the best in you.  And a friend that you can do the same for in return.

How God Redeemed My iPhone (even though it didn't need redeeming)

Friends, I'm going to tell you right now, I am technologically challenged...and I'm only 39.

It's one thing for an "older" person to struggle with all the new phones, all the social media options and everything in between.  But I'm 39 for pete's sake!  I'm not that old! Just figuring out how to get this blog set up and going took heroic efforts, not from me (heck, I had NO idea what I was doing!), but from my husband, daughter, and a multitude of friends who so graciously walked me through the process (and continue to do so).

I'm sure it doesn't help the fact that I've always been a bit late to the game.  I got email and a cell phone around the same time...like 9 years ago.  If you think back 9 years ago, I was not only late to the game, but the game was over and a whole new one had started!

But you know what?  I didn't care!  And at that time, as we got ready to move away from our family and friends, I had my phone and email...what more did a girl need!?!? 

Let me just stop here and say this, I also sometimes struggle with change.  Once I got my phone, I didn't really want to upgrade.  I knew my phone...it was almost as if my phone knew me.  Me and my flip phone, well...we were handling anything that was coming our way, and we were doing a dang good job of it! (even if I didn't have texting!)

As the years passed, I did grow to understand (and appreciate) the importance of change when it came to phones.  Although, I'll still admit that it took me awhile to transition from texting on my number keypad, which I had gotten very good at I must say, to an actual keypad with letters (are there correct terms for these separate keypads!?!? Who knows!)

(I loved this phone!)

Anyways, it was a surprise to no one a year and a half ago when I gave my upgrade to my oldest daughter, so that she could get an iPhone.  It just made sense...with this crazy new phone she could text, have access to the internet, take pictures, and even call! (ok, the "call" part is pushing it..but she could if she wanted to!)

Teachers were even having their students use their phones in class.  Did I want her to fail high school as a result of my own selfishness?  Of course not! Plus, I really liked my slide phone...what more did I need? Along with this was the fact that I always felt like the whole smart phone thing seemed a bit "worldly" (yes, I did just say that....do not close out this post just yet, I'm coming back to this!). So, my daughter upgraded to an iPhone, and I stayed in my happy place.

Over time, though, my happy place became less and less happy.  If other people used emojis in their texts to me, it read like hieroglyphics on my phone and at random times my phone would be unable to download various messages.  Being the communicator that I am (only meaning that I love to communicate!), not being able to read the texts sent to me was becoming unacceptable!  And so it was time to upgrade (thank goodness we had an upgrade in the family!).

But what was this churning inside of me?

You know that comment I made about my feelings towards smart phones?  Well, those feelings returned.  Was I honestly going to dive into the world of being an iPhone owner?  What would that say about me? These phones, it's as if they're taking over the world...did I really want to be a part of that?  Wasn't it more noble to live "simply" (i.e. keep my outdated phone with zero capabilities to help me figure out where I am when I get lost while driving)?

As I sat with these questions and tried to process why I was experiencing such turmoil, I was able to come to the realization that all of these thoughts and questions were merely a cover up for what I was really feeling.......fear.

Not fear that I was going to make some kind of moral mistake.  Not fear that I was taking part in something that might be unpleasing to my Father.  Oh no, I realized I was simply wrestling with the intense fear that my brain just might explode while trying to figure out how to navigate through life with this piece of technology.  And I began to dread the time and effort it would take to figure it all out.

I also feared how stupid and insecure it might make me feel.  Oiy......the truth comes out.

(I don't even know how this picture got on here.  One of my girls did it.)

But friends, here is the GREAT part of this whole long, rambling, what seems to be meaningless story.  I am here to say that me getting an iPhone has been one of the greatest most blessed experiences of my life (ok, maybe a bit of an exaggeration) and here's why...this crazy phone has provided me numerous opportunities to connect with my two teenage daughters, and I don't mean via texts or calls.

For the last 15 years, I have been the "teacher", the "expert".  I have played a major role in helping my daughters "figure it out".  But as they get older, they are figuring out how to learn on their own and they are needing me less.  This new season has left me floundering a bit.  I am so used to pouring into my daughters.  But now, I'm learning how to simply make myself available and wait for them to come to me.  It feels very foreign.  I need to find new ways to connect, but what does that look like....

I realize, at times, it just might look like reversing roles.  And my new phone has allowed me to do just that!  Being as severely challenged as I am in the area of technology/social media, I have needed my girls more times than not in the last three weeks.  But now it's my daughters that are teaching me, and I am looking at them with wide eyes of confusion.  They are the ones saying, "I've shown you this already, remember?" and I am the one saying, "Oh yeah, I forgot." (insert sheepish grin)

I can't tell you how much fun I had sitting on the couch with my oldest daughter and her friend as they walked me through what all the emojis meant.  How do people know these things!?!?  Or how hard we laughed as we sat across the living room sending random snapchats to each other.  My girls even took the opportunity to give me a lesson on how to take a good selfie...did you know that your supposed to cut off part of your face sometimes?!?  I had no idea!

(our first group selfie)

I also learned how powerful it can be to allow our children the experience of being the "teacher",  that few things break down walls like laughing at ourselves and putting our kiddos in the role of feeling needed, and that twitter is something that I'm not sure I'll ever fully understand.

So for now, I'm just going to try to embrace this new season.  Vaughn and I continue to pray that the Father might give us wisdom and insight as we parent.  I by no means feel equipped to walk my girls through their teenage years in the world that we live in, but I don't have to.  I serve a God who promises to help me in all things.  And what a creative God he is.  Who would've thought that He might use an iPhone to answer a few of my prayers!

To My Girls -- Thank you, girls, for doing your part to keep me a semi-hip mom.  Ok, maybe just a mom that's not completely out of it!:) Thank you for laughing with me (because I'm certain you are not laughing at me!).  Thank you for your random snapchats, for humoring me by laughing at my emoji use, and for still rescuing me with my technology questions.  Most of all, thanks for letting me be your mom.

Living My Story

Living a better story...

Donald Miller looks at this concept in his book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.  If you haven't read it, DO! This book has wrecked me...in a good way.  I've been through the book several times.  The first two times I was challenged and inspired.

The third time rocked me!

The timing, the season I was in, the circumstances surrounding me, were all aligned in such a way that the question in this book, "What does it look like to live a better story?" third time around, left me feeling overwhelmed, doubtful, and discouraged.  I found myself longing to have the money to travel internationally with our girls, on mission together, giving them a bigger world view and a sense of who God is through these types of experiences.  Unfortunately, we don't have the money to fly 6 people anywhere right now.

I was captured by the idea in the book of living adventurously, and through this adventure, experiencing God.  I pictured our entire family biking through the mountains together, taking in the amazingly, creative work of his hands...and through this experience drawing closer together as a family and closer to God as our creator.  However, one small detail keeps this from being a reality....none of us have bikes! (ok, that's a big detail, I know)  And right now, six bikes just don't fit into our budget.

And so I swung to the other side of the spectrum and began to dream about all the ways we could live a better story through selling our house and all our possessions.  We could move to the inner city of Denver and live simply, relating to and doing life with the families that are in those neighborhoods.  There is a part of my heart that could get really excited about this....except for one thing....it's not where the Lord has called us right now.

And so I'm left with the question "What does it look like to be a middle class family, living in the suburbs, living a better story day to day?" At first I didn't love thinking about this...because to be honest with you, none of the answers sounded very romantic.  I realized that I had become captured by this idea of doing something "big" and "amazing".  Something others could point to and say, "Wow, they're really doing it!"  I longed for a sense of true purpose...I wanted to find purpose in something worth giving my life to!

And yet, my life kept getting in the way!  There were meals to prepare and laundry to do.  There was cleaning that needed to be done in order to host church in our living room.  There was homework to oversee and car pooling to cover.  And none of this felt like much of an "adventure" in any way!

Here is where the doubts came in and the discouragement.  Here is where the whispers of the ever crafty enemy were heard and listened to.  He must have had a script, because he knew just what to say.  It was as if he knew me... 

"You are wasting time with your life."

"What can you point to that is making a difference in this world?"

"Vaughn is a pastor AND teaching 8th grade in a high need, hard to fill teaching position.  Now that's living a better story!"

"You have friends that have found ways to incorporate ministry opportunities into their business, who have adopted orphans, who are volunteering in various ways."

"What are you doing that looks like anything?"

"You don't even feel equipped to parent your teenage daughters, so don't use the parent card to make yourself feel better!"

Ouch...that last dagger really hit its mark!  And I almost started to believe these lies.  Ok, I actually did believe them for several days...several very dark days.

But slowly over time,  I began to hear another voice.  This voice was so much more gentle. There was something in me that recognized the truth in what this voice was saying.  This voice, too, knew me, but I also heard a deep love in this voice.  This was the voice of the One who created me, the One who called me, the author of my life.  This was the voice of my Father, and so I listened...

"'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'" (Luke 10:27)

But Lord!!!!

Really!?!?

You know I love you. And you know that we've tried to love our neighbors well. But I'm ready to do something exciting! Something big...something truly worthwhile (oh yes, believe me when I say that I felt this).

Then there was silence...

For several more days the Father allowed me to walk around like a spoiled brat, throwing a temper tantrum because my Daddy wouldn't help me do great things in His name.....or would He?

Little did I realize the work that was being done in my heart as I lamented the story I was living. And slowly my eyes were opened to the way my Father was at work in me and through me...

A spontaneous, meaningful conversation with a daughter, an opportunity to speak truth into a friend, the awareness to remain present in the given moment allowing myself to "re-see" the little lives around me and the value of pouring into them.

Gradually my heart is becoming captured once again with the everyday. I've been here before. I know the truth of living here. But somehow I had wandered...somehow I had lost my way.

Graciously my Father is bringing me back. Reminding me that living a better story is about loving Him and loving others. Reminding me that I was not meant to live someone else's story. Reminding me the value of being faithful with what He has given me and where He has me right now, knowing He will be faithful to me in return.

So, I ask myself once again, "What does it look like to be a middle class family, living in the suburbs, living a better story day to day?"

Right now, for me, it means continuing to press into my relationship with my Father...seeking Him, listening to Him, obeying Him, trusting Him.

It means battling hard against the lies of the enemy, reminding myself that my role as a mother is one of the greatest stories I have ever been invited to be a part of.

It means continuing to explore and wrestle with the idea Vaughn has had for doing a neighborhood meal once a week in our home. (We have numbers of friends who are doing this sort of thing in their own neighborhoods.  Is it time for us to do the same?)

It means being aware of those around me.

Donald Miller writes, "The reward you get from a story is always less than you thought it would be, and the work is harder than you imagined. The point of the story is never about the ending, remember. It's about your character getting molded in the hard work of the middle."

I'm in the middle....and I'm being molded. My prayer is that through it all, I'm loving my Father and those around me well.

That feels like a story worth giving my life to!

To My Girls -- May you always remember that living a good story is simply about obedience and faithfulness.  Listen to what God is calling you to and obey.  Walk faithfully with Him (even when it's hard and it hurts) and I have no doubt that a great story will be the result.

Created in His Image

(Warning...this post is a bit long. Shocking to no one, I know!)

I love seasons........

Ok, that's a lie, I love summer and spring and fall (the warm part of fall that is).  Winter, I could do without.  Having said that, I'm fairly certain living through the winter is what makes me love the other seasons even more.

I guess that's kind of how it is with life.....we're always in a season of some sort, and often the hard ones make the easier ones so much more lovely, more comforting, more enjoyable.  This past fall has been a hard season at our house.  Actually, it's probably been the hardest season Vaughn and I have gone through in our entire 18 years of being married.  It's been brutal.....for so many reasons.  However, as time passes, I'm realizing the deep, intimate work that is being done in us through this hard season.

Despite wrestling, and floundering, and crying out and going numb during this season, I have also tried to listen.  And one thing I heard was that I have been living under a False Narrative.  Somewhere early along the road of longing to live a life that is pleasing to the Lord, I took the concept of "dying to self" and perverted it into something it was never meant to be.  What started out as a practice of putting others before myself in an effort to prove myself worthy to the Lord, slowly over time, morphed into disregarding my own self in most things, and in the end losing the ability to see value in my desires, passions, hopes and feelings.  I found a way to find my happiness in other people's happiness (not that this is always a bad thing), all in the name of earning something that was already mine!  Oiy....I cringe as I hear the dis-health in all of this!  Add to that being a mom of four little ones at the time, where sacrifice was the name of the game, and I was set up for the perfect storm!

Fast forward now to this fall where I found myself at home by myself for the first time in 15 years.  How is it possible that all my girls are in school already!?!?!  To say I felt undone by this new season is an understatement....hence the floundering.  As my husband started asking me questions like, "What is something you'd like to do?" and "What gets you excited?" I began to panic!

As I was given the opportunity to explore what my heart's desires might be, I ran into fear and shame.

What?!?!

Ok, fear I could understand....the unknown is always a little overwhelming for me. I kind of like to have a sense of control (I have been working on this, though!).  But shame?  What the what!??!?  I had no idea where this was coming from.

And so I pressed in...and tried to listen some more.  And the word that was spoken to me was, "So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them." (Genesis 1:27) This word began to seep into my soul and take root.

I am created in the image of God.  I, Taryn, am created in His image....his beautiful, creative, unique, loving image.  If I am to always die to that, I am dishonoring the work of His hands.  Don't get me wrong, I fully believe that Jesus calls us to a life where we are asked to die to the things that keep us from living fully surrendered to Him.  

But I also know that His word says, "For we are God's handiwork (a.k.a. masterpiece), created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." (Ephesians 2:10) This truth reminds me that God created me on purpose, for a purpose.  The shame I felt in who I am is a direct lie from the enemy.  The truth is, my passions, desires and longings all stem out of who I am created to be.  My personality, my love for relationships and conversations, my dramatic ways and loud laugh are all a part of who God created me to be.  

What does it look like to live out of this truth?  My desire is to find out!  What might it look like for you?

To My Girls -- My prayer is that you embrace who God created you to be.  That you would find freedom in being you.  And that you would always know God's deep love for you.  May you find joy in pursuing the purpose He created you for!