I  crave the bold, beautiful invitation to escape  from the ordinary to the extraordinary.

I have never lost my childlike love of snowflakes falling from dark skies.

So, I am missing snow alot this winter and the sacred stillness it offers.

Imagine each of us waking this morning with our park benches beckoning us to a bleak but beautiful black and white stillness.

Imagine accepting such an invitation.

So, that’s just what I think I will do.  Accept February’s invitation to stillness – with or without real snow.

I’ve allowed so much noise in my life that I’ve sorely missed the stillness.

I  talk way too much.

I am a wordy person.

Yet,  I say I  want to “live from my heart.”

Seriously?  Have I any idea how to hear my heart?

So, I thought I would turn the tables on myself.  I have signed up to be coached.  By me – cause  I have nothing left to prove to myself.

And I know when I’m lying.

And I’m affordable.

Every  step I ask my clients to take, I will take.

So….yesterday I spent a good part of the day answering  the introductory questionaire I give to my clients.

I’ve previously completed it but it was a slightly doctored version for my first lifecoach caused I really wanted him to like me.

So, I had to glitter up some otherwise embarrassing chapters.

It took alot of  time for me to sit still on that park bench so I could hear what I had avoided for so long.

I started  with the easy, obvious stuff.  The annoying habits.  The dysfunctional thinking.  The pound bag of m&m’s. The sloppy office space.  The procrastination.  The grudges. You know…stuff like that.

I’ve spent a life time working hard on those behaviors and habits  ’cause I believed that’s what mattered.  But, after all that concentration and resolutions and counseling and hard work, that stuff hasn’t changed all that much.

What remains are questions….lots of them….

What am I thinking when I justify doing or saying something I don’t even agree with or know I will  regret or will cause me or someone else suffering?

What’s up with that?

Truth be told, I want a silver bullet – a quick fix – to feel better and to tidy up my mess.

And, until I find that silver bullet, I choose to manage the mess.  I choose…..

So, today I am being still on my park bench.

There are habits I want to change or stop altogether.

There are no excuses not to do so right now.

I have hired a coach to run the miles with me.

I know I will want to quit. Give myself an out.

I am prone to conclude that it is too late…..that I am too old.

My coach will remind me to read what I have written in stark black and white.  Like snow.

To just keep going.

If you’re interested, I promise to be honest about this journey.

Is it worth it?

Is it harder than I thought?

Would I recommend it to you?

Look up at the winter sky….feels like snow.

A brilliant young musician friend, Stuart Hill, posted this song on his FB page. The band is the Gabe Dixon Band and they deserve to be heard.  So does my friend.

I love this song.  I listen to it alot.

And today when I realized that the first month of 2012 is basically a done deal….I needed this song.

2011 didn’t play out quite as I had expected.

2012 hasn’t begun so stellar either.

And not for the lack of lofty goals, focused intentions, and some pretty impressive blood, sweat, and tears.

It’s just been a tough start.

So, I really appreciate someone honestly singing about breaking promises to yourself but still believin’ all will be well.

I gave away alot of 2011 and those annoying little habits are hard to break so when 2012 came knocking at my door I had very little left to serve.

So, though it’s been a while and there have been miles we have all traveled since our last crossing of paths…and sharing of blog posts…

I figured why not welcome February – THE  LOVE  MONTH – as a gift of winter wonders yet to be discovered.

Cause I believe that all will be well for you – which honestly – is easier than believing it for me.

Maybe you know what I mean.

Maybe you are a light and hope bearer for everybody else in the universe – except yourself.

I understand.

Listen…I will not be perfect. In February.  I won’t even be close.

I’m pretty determined to avoid perfect like the plague. I’ve tasted her fruit of the vine and it ain’t worth the hangover.

So…..here we go.

I promise to be honest…kind….prudent….shrewd….tasteful (hmmm…maybe)….and gracious….cause grace is the power of the music….

Take a listen…..

All….will…..be…..well…….

Thanks, Stuart….

It’s cool and quiet and still and expectant.

Time for miracles.

Time for daring responses.

Last week  I saw a car with a bumper sticker that preached one of the best sermons I ever heard…

“DON’T POSTPONE JOY!”

Postpone some other stuff if you must…but, don’t…don’t postpone joy.

For some of us…that will require an Easter miracle.

Lucky for us….today is Easter!

The Easter story makes new beginnings far more powerful than any New Year’s Day ever tried to be.

I don’t know what your April 25th might bring.
Neither do you.

But, I do believe, if nothing else, Easter shouts at us…

DON’T POSTPONE JOY!!

Joy may be hidden; may be battered a bit; may be covered with sand and soil.

It’s okay.

Find it anyway.

PURSUE JOY!

PRACTICE RESURRECTION!

Easter blessings to you…

With the new year arriving midst blustery winds and blowing snows, the winter sky has offered staggering views of the night skies.  Cold, stark, mysterious,  stunning.  And just at a time when I presumed that new stories would simply write themselves upon my heart and calendar, even with winter clarity I seem to have lost sight of my own North Star.

So, I went looking for it….

I was reminded of one of my favorite benchmark words for new beginnings found in

Isaiah 43:18-19 ….

“Do not remember the former things;

or consider things of old.

I am about to do a new thing;

now it springs forth’

do you not preceive it?’

I love these words because I seem to carry around alot of “former things” which get in the way of my seeing “the new thing” springing up…kinda like losing my North Star.  Without my North Star I seem to wander aimlessly about my space; moving more circular than forward, more awkward than sound, more lost than found.  I think I believed that my North Star – my guiding light – would appear in my circumstances or in my check book or by email with words and prizes to re-energize my movement and chart my new course.

But, none of those things happened.

Instead, something rumbled and tumbled inside of me having little to do with the squares on my calendar.

It is my insides that long for a new beginning. The former things that muddy my vision are not the scribbles on my new datebook.  They are the walls and strongholds entrapping my heart.

I have some hard work to do. Beautiful though it may be the North Star is simply that, my guide, my point of reference.  I am the seeker. I choose the journey.

I’ve known this for a long time.  I just wanted all the other stuff to do the really hard work and allow me to slide through…to the other side of New.

I don’t want to slide anymore.

The North Star is too magnificent, too powerful, too much to ever miss again…

As the holy days of Advent quickly bring us to the manger, I find myself overcome with gratitude and grace for so many of you who have chosen time and again to offer your love and grace to me…..Thank you. …. Thank you for being peacemakers and peacekeepers and grace givers when least recognized or deserved but profoundly appreciated.  May you be the joyful recipient of unsurpassing peace and amazing grace uniquely gifted during this holy season  - especially if you find yourself feeling a bit Charlie Brownish….

May you be embraced by extravagant Grace,  humbled by limitless Gratitude , and lifted by triumphant Love….

And in that holy moment may you trustfully  relinquish your fears, painful judgments, and hurtful prejudices to the miracle at the manger….

May you become lighter and freer for having chosen so…

Gratitude and Grace to you….

Come, Lord Jesus….Come….

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life.  It turns what we have into enough, and more.  It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity.  It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.  Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.”

If today…the day after….. finds you unexpectedly welcoming the unexpected –  some bit of chaos or confusion…may you live aware of  the power of renewed hope fueled by amazing grace and gratitude; humbled by what is unseen, and carried by love’s forgiveness and redemption.

Gratitude leads….always has…always will.   Shall we practice scandalous gratitude despite the unexpecteds that might have found their way to our kitchens and to our hearts?  Shall we rebel against self absorbed fears and our often massive insecurities and simply practice gratitude for what truly  has been, for what is, and what shall be?

Peace to you….

i’ve found myself praying the simple prayer found in Psalm 30:7

“Lead me in a plain path.”

A simple, clear, clean…tiny little path…

No brilliant lights…

No marching bands…

No exhilarating crowds..

Just a simple, plain, honest, true, sound, strong, sure plain path.

And early today…for the first time in almost four months…I went for my early morning run…

Sweet…..plain….path….

And I thought of the simple words spoken by Jesus when he said so tenderly yet so forcefully,

“You will know the truth and the truth will set you free.”

But, I often seem unable to find truth – especially within a particular circumstance or relationship…. so within those areas….

I am not free.

And then…quite unexpectedly…without any effort or intention on my part these words came to me… also spoken by Jesus…

“I am the truth.”

“I am the truth.”

So, I thought…well, if I want to find the truth and if it is truth that will set me free and if I cannot seem to find the truth…

then maybe instead…I could just find Jesus…

and let him set me free.

Maybe I’ve complicated my race far too much…allowed far too many voices and distractions and opinions….well meaning though they be…but they have cluttered my plain path….

Truth is a precious commodity. An invaluable gift of respect we offer ourselves and those we love. It is a gift that can be costly in its revelation but any other gift – damage control, spin stories, pretty packaging – oh, those gifts can become messy litter, roadblocks on our run.

And we live unfree….so very encumbered….

You know what I mean?

Shall we seek to be made free?

And discover how to love well along the way…

I opened that lovely box of crayons – so bright and beautiful – and simply indulged in their vibrant colors.  Every color was one that a two year old would be proud and brave to hold in their chubby little hand.  And it occurred to me how easily, how willingly we ignore the best colors in the box.  Or I do.  I gravitate toward the blacks and the whites – not real colors at all – with an occasional brown thrown in for good measure but I completely miss the shocking pinks and splashy oranges and the soothing blues and greens.

And then, in an ever so sneaky way, I buy into a belief that my life is – oh, I don’t know – kinda grey, kinda cream, kinda dulled.

I want my True Color back.

So, I found that feisty Cindy Lauper song, True Colors, on  the internet and turned up the volume and colored all over notebooks and journals.  I might just paint my walls a fabulous red!

I love Cindy’s words…

“But I see your true colors

Shining through

I see your true colors

And that’s why I love you

So don’t be afraid to let them show

Your true colors,

True colors, are beautiful,

Like a rainbow.”

Amen to that……Color on……

I had no idea that my writing brain and my running legs had become so inseparable.  Seems those serotonins are a big deal, after all.

It has been humbling at best – devastating at worst to learn and admit that a single practice – something so simple and unimpressive really – has forged the rope of iron that contributes to some sort of internal balance – not to mention necessary weight control. And when that rope becomes a bit frayed, frazzled, or altogether snaps….what happens to balance?  Do I free fall?  Sometimes.  Do I swing dangerously with the lightest of breezes?  Yup….

Humbling….

Ever had your rope become frayed? Ever felt yourself free fall as a result of it snapping altogether?

What did you do?  How did you think about that free fall?

I realized – just for me – that running does so many things that are more important than money in my bank account or clean clothes in my laundry or worry about what anyone else thinks about money in my bank account or clean clothes in my laundry. Running steadies me. Running returns me to me. Running keeps me sure I am breathing.  Running forces me to truth but only as much as I can hold as I run…never too burdernsome…never enough to steal me from the race.  Running is my purest form of worship.  And I miss all of the above.

The truth is my back betrayed my soul…not intentionally but the same result occurred.

So…..my creative juices have leaked out and my legs have turned to jello.

It seems that sitting hour upon hour on a heating pad has fried my brain and created a co-dependent relationship with my back and legs. ..one that needs to be weaned away.

Today we walk. My legs and brain and heart and soul…inner balance gingerly begining to be regained.

Have you misplaced your running legs somewhere?  Want to join me? We will move as slowly as our legs lead us to. But we will move.

Come on….

Grace will line the streets….

I love a great comeback story.

I need to believe in comeback stories. We all do.

Having run a few miles on the comeback trail I’ve learned that every comeback trail can be lined with setbacks. It’s not anyone’s fault in particular.  It’s just the way the trail winds. Just when you’ve stepped up to the starting line…just when you’ve convinced yourself to give it one more try….just when you thought you had paid your dues and trained your butt off…wham…the setback blues rain on your comeback parade.

And the once beckoning trail becomes thick with felled trees that seem to obliterate the morning light.

Now, here’s the thing….once the setback smacks you in the face…and you truly can’t see the forest – or the trail – for the trees – you have some choices.  By the way, one of those choices is not to NOT FEEL THE PAIN.  You can deny it. You can repackage it. But you cannot avoid it. Sorry….

However…

1. You can quit.

2. You can fake a season ending injury.

3. You can eat chocolate and drink cheap wine…the perfect food companions.

4. You can catch your breath….check your vitals….and ever so kindly….choose to run one more step and then one more and so on and so on….you get the picture.

5. You can make it to the finish line.  You can. Really.

The thing about comebacks and setbacks is that both carry enormous energy and energy is a great thing no matter how you come by it. And none of us can run one step without energy.

The challenge is to be brave…well, really to be gutsy…and simply acknowledge that the exhilaration of running the comeback trail lasted – oh, maybe a moment or two – and then the real running began and it was, at times,  brutal. especially if sometimes…the real race wasn’t even fair. I mean, really…where are the referees in life?

BUT…..Setbacks do not define your comeback. They do not. Setbacks do strengthen your legs for the uphill climbs. Setbacks do grow your heart for the high altitudes where the air becomes dangerously thin.  And setbacks do make for a greater story.

So, if today finds you gasping for air after an unexpected setback that ambushed you right in the middle of your comeback….catch your breath….assess the damage….reset your pace but not your passion.

And ever so slowly, cautiously begin to move through the thickening woods toward to light; asking what I call the “Holy ask”….so simple really…..

“Abba,  what do you have for me in this?”

Amazingly enough…the whisper of that “holy ask” has the power to part the trees just enough to see the light break through…

and that means everything.

Is there a “holy ask” within your comeback run?

Ask away and lean into the light….