Our Story: Learning To Say “It Is Well”

Learning to say it is wellI felt my first real contraction around 11:00pm on Tuesday, December 23rd, 2014 (your due date) as I was getting ready for bed. That morning, I went out to breakfast with your Papa M at Panera Bread before work so we could have one last Daddy/Daughter date before you arrived. Had I known you would begin your grand entrance at that hour, I might have had that date the morning before. But if there’s one thing that our birth story has taught me, it’s that the future is not in our hands.

As I prepared for your arrival during the months prior to seeing your sweet face, I would often find myself listening to this version of my favorite hymn, It Is Well. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones. Maybe it was God’s stirring in my heart. Maybe it was a lot of both. But every time I listened to this song, it seemed to speak to my soul in a way that it had never before. It was no longer just my song, it was our song. It was a clear message from God that this new role I was about to take on-being your mother-was uncharted waters for me.

I had asked God to expand my territory in 2014 and He was about to do some major demolition in my heart. He was making space. Space for you. Space for love. Space to give myself grace. The firm grip I so often had on my life was loosening each time I listened to that song. In order for space to be made, I would have to follow the next step God was revealing to me. No complete road map for me to look at, just the next step. Just an opportunity to breathe in and out, say “it is well” and place one foot in front of other.

Your dad was on the phone with your Aunt Cristina catching up when I felt that first contraction, marking the final stretch of your time of growth within me. I had been feeling contractions with you for a while, but these were different. It was time.

Breathe in. Breathe out. It is well.

Mixed emotions filled my heart:
Joy for your arrival.
Sadness that I would no longer carry you inside of me.
Doubt of my capability to be the mother you need me to be.
Exhaustion because you chose to start so late at night after I had been up since 6am that morning and put in a full day’s worth of work.
Fear because I hadn’t been able to finish my to-do list at work yet. . . I’m a recovering perfectionist.
Relief that your Papa M, Jammie, Uncle Jonathan, Aunt Michelle, and Truett would be able to meet you during their time here for Christmas.
Excitement to experience your birth after months of reading about the process. Nervousness about being admitted to a hospital for the first time.

Breath in. Breathe out. It is well.

Around 3am on Christmas Eve Day, your sweet daddy and I loaded up the car and headed towards the hospital after experiencing a few hours of close contractions. You weren’t quite ready, so we were sent home. I didn’t want to be THAT woman who went in too early, but I was. I wanted to see your sweet face. I wanted to hold you.

Breathe in. Breathe out. It is well.

After arriving home around 5am, I labored with you all day . . . and I mean all day. No sleep for more than a few 15 minute cat naps happened that day for both of us. There was a lot of focused breathing on my part and a lot of counter pressure applied by your daddy. If we weren’t already tired, this solidified our exhaustion.

Breathe in. Breathe out. It is well.

Around 11:00pm on Christmas Eve, my contractions with you started to get closer and closer again, so your daddy and I got back in our car and headed for the hospital. This time, it was confirmed you were coming. Having progressed to 3cm, we were going to see you on Christmas Day.

Best. Christmas. Present. Ever.

Welcome Laney Drew

After getting to the room where I was going to deliver you, it was about 3am at this point and the doctor came in to see me. We were told that he was going to break my water since I had been in such hard labor for so long without much progression. It was going to make my contractions more intense closer together, which would speed up my progression. Not what I wanted to hear, but we made the decision to go ahead with it. Whoa.

Breath in (Tomy, please don’t stop applying that counter-pressure!). Breathe ow-ow-ooooouuuuut. It is well.

I do believe I spent the next 3 hours of intense and unrelenting contractions singing our song in my head over and over again. Because that’s what they tell you to do; focus your thoughts and breathing on something to help through each contraction. Girlfriend, your momma was working hard as each set of contractions (yeah, I would have 4 contractions in a row and then only get 1.5 minutes break before they would start again) would come. But you were worth it.

So after 3 hours, the doctor came back in to check my progression with you. Your dad and I were anxious to see how much longer it would be until we got to see you. After 32 hours of labor thus far, we were getting pretty excited to see your face. . . and kind of miserable from all those excruciating contractions.

After those 3 hours, we were told that I had not progressed any further than I was before they broke my water. Not what we wanted to hear. Not a pace that we would be able to keep after working so hard for so long. I looked into your dad’s face and saw sheer exhaustion. He looked into mine and saw the same. At that point, neither of us had slept for more than a few minutes in over 48 hours. It was with a reluctant heart that I requested an epidural. Months of reading and preparation for a natural birth, we were going to continue the process with an epidural.

Breathe in. Breathe out (let go of your expectations for a drug-free birth). It is well.

Well, there is a reason why so many women get an epidural. Within minutes, the excruciating pain was gone. Your daddy could sleep. I could breathe and my body could fully relax. Jammie visited us in the room that morning and Papa M headed to the airport to pick up you aunt, uncle, and cousin. We tried to sleep, only getting in a few 15 minute naps. Even though I couldn’t feel the pain, I still seemed to be restless with anticipation of your arrival.

After another 12 hours of labor since the epidural, I was checked again, only to see that I was at a 7 and we were quickly approaching the end of the safe window since my water had been broken. Pitocin was recommended to help me progress. We agreed and the medicine was administered. More drugs. We were getting further and further from the birth I had expected. But even though things weren’t panning out like I had hoped they would, peace kept washing over your daddy and me. We were watching our story unfold. We were getting closer to becoming a family of 3.

Breathe in. Breathe out. It is well.

After few hours of labor and our doctor proclaimed I was finally at a 9, just shy of a 10. Hope. Excitement. Light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel joy. Your Jammie had since gone home to eat dinner and spend time with the family. Your daddy and I were excited to see you and we knew we would be getting the best Christmas present ever. You. Our sweet little Laney Drew.

Breathe in. Breathe out. It is well.

A 9. A “stretchy 9.” That’s what I was for about another 2 hours. Any time now. You were descending and all that needed to happen was for my body to fully progress so you could make your debut. But that “stretchy 9” wasn’t going anywhere. The doctor came in and suggested we go ahead with a c-section since my water had been broken for about 18 hours. What? A c-section? No. We called our families and asked them to pray for clear direction. We didn’t want to have you via c-section. That was the last thing we wanted. You were, as our nurse put it, “the best looking baby she had seen all day.” You weren’t in any sort of distress. I was a 9, almost 10. We decided to wait another hour or so.

Breathe in. Breathe out. It is well.

It didn’t take the full hour for my body to start to change. Something was up. Even though I had an epidural, I started to have an overwhelming sense that you were going to come. I had heard women talk about the “bearing down” sensation they feel when your body wants to push. Oh, there was no question in my mind that I was feeling that sensation. Your nurse was delivering another baby, so we had to wait for about 45 minutes for her to be done so she could check to see if I was actually ready to push.

Your daddy and I, up until this point, had been full of hope that I was going to fully progress. Our nurse had been cheering us on each time she would come in. She reminded me that it can happen at any time. Only this time, she had a different perspective. My “stretchy 9” was not progressing. You were progressing. I was not. In fact, I was going backwards. I was starting to swell. Confirmation.

Your daddy and I made the difficult decision. With tears in my eyes, I said “yes” to having the c-section. One more time, I had to let go of my expectations for how you were going to enter this world.

Breathe in. Breathe out (God you’ve got this). It is well.

Before I knew it, I was being wheeled down the hall and into the operating room. Your daddy kissed me before I went through the door and waited until he could come into the room. It was the first time we had been apart since the first contraction over 47 1/2 hours ago. He would later tell me that he has never seen me more at peace than I was before I went through the doors, and I was. Even though the story was not going as planned, God was in control. He was in control. He was writing our story.

The doctors and nurses were busy making preparations for the surgery. I was on the operating table, singing our song in my head, and cherishing these last few minutes of carrying you inside of me. Our sweet little girl. Our gift. Our Laney Drew.

Breathe in. Breathe out. It is well.

It was only a matter of minutes after your daddy came into the room and sat next to me that I heard your first cry. . .

Laney's First Picture You were here.
December 25, 2014.
7lbs. 12oz.
21″ long.

Your daddy got to hold you while they finished my surgery, but he brought you over to me so I could see your full head of dark hair, your gorgeous blue eyes, and your sweet little lips. I had been dreaming of what you would look like for so long and I was finally seeing your sweet face. We didn’t think we could love any more than we already did, but your daddy put it perfectly: “Now I know what the Grinch felt like when his heart grew 3 sizes.” You proved us wrong. We never knew a love like this. You changed our lives in the most beautiful way.

IMG_0339Laney Drew in stockingBreathe in. Breathe out. It is well. It is well with my soul.

Our story didn’t go as I had planned, but that’s something you will soon experience for yourself, sweet girl. Toys will break. Relationships might end. You may not make the team. Your imperfect parents will mess up. My prayer for our story, as it continues, is that we are able to teach you the wonderful freedom and joy found in humbly submitting to God and His plan. It may not always be fun. It may not always be glamorous. It may not always be comfortable. It may not always make sense. But God will always be with you, and that is all you need.


Laney's first Sunday at church

Take the next step. Breathe in. Breathe out. It is well.

.: Act Justly | Love Mercy | Walk Humbly :.


Under The Table


Middle school is rough.

You feel like a ball of raging hormones, your social circles are changing more than ever, you’re in what feels like “maturity limbo,” you’re beginning to realize that life isn’t all about birthday parties and ponies, and to top it all off . . . the pressures to perform well in sports and at school are increasing. I know. I was basically a walking billboard for how awkward and difficult those 3 LONG years were. But you know what? I survived. I learned a lot from it all, too.
They say experience is the best teacher, and I would have to agree. When I approach ministry, I have a different vantage point and understanding than our kids do because I have been there, done that, bought the T-shirt. One of my best learning experiences came out of middle school. It was embarrassing and profound all at the same time, and that combination always makes for a good read.

Before I get started, remember what I said about the whole ball-of-raging-hormones thing? Yeah, keep that in the forefront of your mind.

I grew up a pastors’ kid, so I had always been at church and had longed to be in the youth group since as early as I could remember. But today, I had finally arrived. I was in the youth group. In fact, it was my very first event in the youth group at church.

My brother, who is 4 years older than me was an old pro. A 10th grader who was a pretty solid part of the group. His class was the largest. The coolest girls were his friends. I was set. I remember walking in with a confidence I had never felt before. I could just imagine them all saying to each other, Look! There’s Mendy. She’s Jonathan’s sister, she must be so cool. Today was going to be great. So what did I do?

I went crazy.
I went overboard.
I was annoying.
Remember that part about being in maturity limbo? I was there.

My brother was there to witness it all. He sat back in horror as I completely bombed my attempts at portraying coolness and confidence. So, my brother did what any loving brother would have done in a moment when his sister is making a fool of herself. He approached me calmly. He pulled me aside. He started to quietly talk some sense into me.

Looking back, he was being such a good older brother-so mature! He was protecting me and looking out for me by discretely calling to my attention that I was making a fool of myself; however, my 6th grade self did not see this at the time. I saw my older brother trying to embarrass me. I saw my bossy brother correcting me in front of all my new friends and trying to make me look bad. So, I did what any middle school girl would do.

I tackled him.

Yes, a 6th grade girl flattened her 10th grade brother. It was me. I did it. Ball of raging hormones moment.

And then I immediately realized what I just did. In front of the ENTIRE youth group. So, again, I did what any middle school girl would do. I ran from the scene and hid underneath a table and started to cry. Another ball of raging hormones moment.

But what happened afterward is what I remember the most from my first day in the youth group. What I vividly remember was my brother’s response.

Immediately after I had flattened Jonathan and ran away to cry under the table and hide in shame, he got up off the ground and started to search for where I had gone. He found me curled underneath the table, got in there with me, and started to again explain to me what he was trying to tell me from the beginning.

He told me that he cared about me. That he wants what is best for me. That he doesn’t want to embarrass me, but that he thinks I might need to calm down a bit. He was telling me something I needed to hear, but didn’t necessarily want to hear. Only this time, I was listening. I knew he was right. He was trying to save me from embarrassing myself, but instead my inability to trust and listen resulted in me making things worse.

So yeah, middle school is rough. At least my experiences in middle school were.

As I work with students, I often go back to this moment in my life. I try to put myself back into my 6th grade self and look at the world through that lens so I can begin to understand what our students face and how they might feel. How they might take the words I’m saying, whether it be a joke or a moment where I’m trying to speak words of truth into their lives.

When those conversations don’t go as planned, I look back to when I was underneath that folding table in the lobby of my church. I see how my brother made an effort to look for me and to get under the table with me. I see how, that day, my brother showed me how Jesus responds to all of His children-even the annoying ones. He searches for us. He lovingly calls us out of our hiding and our shame. And when we don’t have the courage to come out, he gets under the table with us.

This week, how will you seek out others? How will you loving share truth and let them know there is a life out there that is better than second-rate? How will you meet them where they are at, under the tables where their fragile hearts are hiding, and show them Emmanuel, God with us?

Digital Tattoos

Digital Tattoos

If you were in our youth group, you’d probably overhear me having a conversation with one or more of our students about what they post onto social media. Why? Because I feel it needs to be talked about as much as possible. You’ve heard the whole the-Internet-is-taking-over-our-lives-and-we’re-experiencing-more-bullying-and-anxiety spiel. Yes. I would 100% agree with you, but that’s not what I am talking about with our students half of the time. I don’t think that will change overnight, at least not right away.
When I pull a student aside, or make a general comment about social media, I often talk to them about their digital tattoos. Because that’s what their Instagram/Facebook/Twitter/Vine/SnapChat/Pinterest posts are. Digital tattoos that are hard to remove, if at all.

Last night, I came across this article about a young PR Executive, Justine Sacco, who tweeted as she was boarding a direct flight from NYC to South Africa on a business trip. Here’s what her tweet stated: “Going to Africa. Hope I don’t get AIDS. Just kidding. I’m white!” It’s VERY clear that this is highly offensive on many levels. Even though she had a little over 400 followers (which is a little over the following of your standard high school or college student), her post set off a viral wildfire. #HasJustineLandedYet landed in the top 3 hastags while her flight was still in air. When her flight landed, she found herself being fired from her job and a notification center full of retaliation-all because of one tweet that took about 10 seconds to post. OUCH! That’s a big digital tattoo she gave herself, which eventually led her to deleting all of her social media accounts, and essentially removing herself from the Internet.

Justine, like so many of us, find ourselves freely posting any and everything we think to our various social media platforms. In fact this morning I read about what my friends ate for breakfast, saw the battle wounds of a mountain bike accident, saw posts of several friends who made a Starbucks run, and even watched a video someone posted on their love for Hanson (yes, I have a friend that loves Hanson). Pretty harmless, right? But what happens when we create habits of not using a filter when we post to social media? What if we find ourselves lonely, angry, hurt, or just bored? What do we post then? Probably something we’ll eventually regret.

More often than I’d like, I look through my various feeds and I see words of hurt and posts from people who clearly weren’t thinking about how it would affect the person on the other end of their comment/picture/video. If people like Justine can get fired for their job for a thoughtless post, we should be talking about how we can protect ourselves from making the same mistake. Was Justine wrong? Yes. Is she different than us? Maybe not as much as we’d like to admit.

As you continue to engage on social media, please remember that it’s a form of technology and technology is amoral, meaning, it is neither good nor bad. The thing that dictates whether or not it used good or bad is the user. That’s us. If we want to complain about technology, we must first remember that we are pointing our finger at ourselves. Not sure how to navigate through whether you should post or not? Here’s some good tips to consider:

Are you’re hurt, angry, or lonely? If yes, hit delete and open up your journal. Tell God, he can handle it.
Would the post offend someone? If yes, hit delete. If you’re not sure, hit delete. Humor that is at the expense of someone else is cheap humor. In the words of Lady Grantham, “Vulgarity is no substitute for wit.”
• Are you showing a certain part of your body that shouldn’t be the focus of your post? If yes (and deep, deep down we all know what should and should not be shown), hit delete. Ladies & Gentlemen, this includes SnapChat. You may never realize how fast someone can take a screen shot until you see that photo on your mother’s phone in a text message sent from the mother of your boyfriend or girlfriend.
Would you be embarrassed if your parents or grandparents read/saw it? If yes, hit delete. If no, post away! My 90 year old grandpa, Poppy, is on Facebook. Every time we talk on the phone, he ALWAYS comments about my posts on there. It’s actually great to know he cares about what I care about!
Would it encourage someone? PLEASE POST IT. Post things like this often! If there’s one thing people need, it’s a word of encouragement.

Being a marketing major, I love Instagram/Facebook/Twitter/Vine/SnapChat/Pinterest/Wordpress. But as we now know, we’re all susceptible to the pitfalls that can come from using these platforms. Because a harsh reality is, the world is becoming increasingly more and more connected and that means the line between our personal lives and professional lives is starting to look a little blurry.  Will we get it all right? Probably not, but hopefully with these tips we will learn and grow together in such a way that we will set ourselves up for success and spread words of encouragement and excitement in the digital abyss.

Happy Posting!

Act Justly. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly. | Mendolin

A Lesson I Am Still Teaching Myself


It was a month before I was to graduate from college and I found myself in the office of my university’s president. Sitting on the other side of his massive desk along with a male classmate, we were asked to give that year’s graduation speech. I would be lying if I didn’t tell you I was scared to death at the thought of standing in front of my peers, professors, family and the rest of the normal graduation attendees to share my thoughts about the past 4 years and my hopes for the years to come. As I listened to him talk about his vision for that morning, all I could think was: My dad may be a pastor, but I think God skipped me when he was dishing out the public speaking gene. I had grown accustomed to that saying over the years.

But, in an act of boldness (or, let’s face it, stupidity) I said yes.

I was going to share words of truth and inspiration for everyone in attendance to hear?

The morning of May 15, 2010, I was introduced and walked up to the podium in my cap & gown. In that moment, all eyes were on me as I spoke these words:

“I’m sure when all of us set foot on this campus roughly 4 years ago, we briefly
thought about how our college experience would go. Visions of all night study
sessions, Ultimate Frisbee on the lawn, weekly chapel, and making new friends
flooded our minds making us fearful, excited, and nervous all at the same time. For
some of us, all of those things did in fact happen, but one thing is for sure: all of us
have experienced so much more than we could have ever imagined during our time
here at SNU. Sure, we learned valuable lessons inside the classroom, but for me, the
most important experiences I’ve had throughout my four years at this university
happened outside of the classroom walls.

I was one of those individuals who had thought through what my time here at SNU was going to be like, and was sure of how things were going to pan out. I was going to make great friends with fellow students, never deal with conflict, listen to lectures that only would
reinforce the thoughts and ideas I already had formed, have a perfect 4.0 GPA, and avoid any real pain by having a well thought out and detailed plan for my life. It didn’t take long for me to realize that those plans I had for my life were not going to happen. I overlooked a few things: I didn’t factor in other people and their decisions, and most importantly, I underestimated the power of God. My plan soon got off track from what I wanted. Accounting ruined my hopes of that perfect GPA, I heard lectures that challenged me to think more critically about life, and I suddenly was forced to make important life decisions on my own.

Panic soon set in.

As a child, I was a daredevil. I would climb any tree, talk to anyone who would
give me their attention, and jump from any height – and I mean ANY height – onto
my trampoline with my brother (sorry mom). But as I’ve grown a little older and learned
more about life, that fearless attitude is a little harder to come by. When we were
young, we didn’t have to have plan for our life, that was the responsibility of our
parents. Now, as all of us have grown up a bit, the decisions we have to make are
different and seem to carry more weight than simply choosing which ice cream flavor
we want after our tee-ball game . . . I often wish I could go back to those days.
While at college, I’ve been exposed to the severe hurt that exists in this world,
and have come to a deeper realization that my life here on the earth is finite. These
two realizations, while difficult to ponder, have made a profound impact on my life
and the choices I’ve made. They have taught me the importance of taking risks, and
to truly live my life for something that will outlast it.

During the first semester of my sophomore year, I read the quote,”if we are
afraid of the future, afraid of change, then we miss out on what God has called us to
do.” It made an impression on me, and I decided to pursue something outside of
my comfort zone. The next thing I know, I’m on a 12 hour flight from Los Angeles headed towards Auckland, New Zealand for a 2 1/2 month mission trip for the
summer. I had never been out of the country before and I was unsure of how I was
going to pay for the trip.

I took a risk. And it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Nothing I had imagined prior to leaving the country came close to what I experienced during that wonderful summer. From hiking through some of God’s most
beautiful creation, to ministering to the local Maori youth at Te Ora Hou, my whole
perspective started to transform. For so long, I had been seeing the world through a
tiny pin hole, and after one summer, that view was stretched, altered, and forever
changed as I saw God at work in the global Church. I learned that you can
never “out-imagine” God no matter how hard you try.

For me, taking a risk and changing my outlook meant going on a life-changing
mission trip, and I’m positive there will be more leaps of faith I take. As each of you
venture out into the world after this morning, your important decisions may take on a different form. You might buy or sell in the stock exchange, set aside your career
later in life to be a stay at home mom or dad, travel to a developing state in the
Global South to administer medical care, or simply strike up a conversation with a
familiar face at a local coffee shop. No matter how big or small they might seem,
each choice can be difficult in their own way, but remembering that your life is finite
can be the most influential tool for following your heart and making those bold
decisions. It’s when we realize we have nothing to lose, that our greatest moments
take flight.

Right now, similar feelings that we had our first day on campus have invaded our
minds again as we stare towards a life with either an immediate career search, or
the continuation of our education. While many of us are just as confused about what
to do in life as we were when we started, may our passions and our heart be our
guide through the maze that lies ahead of us. Howard Thurman said it best when he
stated, “Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

As each of us leave go forth from this pivotal moment in our lives, may we never
forget what each of us have in common: we are all called to serve God and serve
others with a relentless, and selfless love. Congratulations Class of 2010, we did it.
Now as we graduate and begin anew, it’s up to us when and where that love will be
shared, so take a risk, and let your passions provide an avenue for you to love
others deeply. “

My very own words seem to still be teaching me today . . .

Act Justly. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly.


Table Topics Tuesday: Happiness In The Present

Table Topic Tuesday 1.22.13

I recently purchased a set of “Table Topics: Happiness” from Target the other week and I love them! (Did I mention they were 90% off?!) They are great conversation starters and fun to flip through. Last week, I came across this card as I was getting ready and  it’s been my head constantly ever since.

Each year, it’s evident everyone is at least somewhat discontent with where they are currently. Why else would there be New Year’s Resolutions? I know I’ve spent most of my time these first few weeks of 2013 imagining what life will be like in 5-10 years. I’ve already written out a few practical action steps to make those dreams come true- blogging is one of them!

I firmly believe vision and personal growth are a good thing (I am actually very passionate about them), but I feel when we focus too much on the future we miss out on a great opportunity to truly enjoy the moment and the place we’re at in life RIGHT NOW. There’s always something that the present teaches us: contentment.

Take a moment today and think your life in its current state. Even if you’re not where you imagine yourself in 5-10 years, identify the things in your life that you can celebrate. Dwell on it. Thank God for it. Choose to have an attitude of joy because of it. Be content with yourself.

As you continue your week, be intentional about taking a moment each day to find the good in life. If you think hard enough, you’ll find one. . . and some days it might only be just one. If it is, cling tightly to it and don’t let busyness and stress steal it away from you.

Oh, and don’t worry, you’re not alone. I’m going to re-read this post tomorrow as well.

Act Justly. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly.


In the Wrong

Women RR signI spent my morning on Friday sitting in the local Panera planning and processing a few ideas for my job. Throughout college, I spent most of my time studying and preparing for presentations or exams there while devouring my body weight in their scrumptious blueberry bagels and hazelnut coffee. When given the opportunity to have an off-site work day once a month, I knew exactly where I wanted to go.

There’s something inspiring to be among people as I work, watching and observing from All-Sons-And-Daughters-blaring-through-my-earbuds-while-feverishly-typing-away corner of the room. It’s as if I’m seeing a improv dance routine take place. Everyone moving at their own pace. Ordering, talking, laughing, eating. . . it’s simply beautiful. While the my recent change in diet has forced me to sacrifice on the blueberry bagel (still working on finding a good gluten-free recipe), I still was able to order a large cup of coffee, which I refilled more than I’d like to admit.

It was about the time I was wrapping up my brainstorming session that those ______ cups of coffee refocused my attention to another part of the restaurant. The restroom. Seeing as it was approaching the lunch hour and business was picking up, I decided to open up some real estate for someone else to enjoy, took my things to my car and hurriedly made my way back into the building.

Rushing past the crowds, I burst through the door without breaking stride and was just about to open the stall door when something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned my head to see a urinal on the side of the bathroom. Now, most of you would have immediately realized you were in the wrong  bathroom, but I can’t lie. My first thought was, “That’s weird. Why did they install a urinal in the women’s restroom?” Luckily, another thought immediately interjected my mind and caused me to realize I was indeed in the wrong restroom. As swiftly as I darted through the wrong door I made my way out and into the proper room, hoping (no, praying) no one would catch me correcting my mistake.

Fast forward through a few details and I am red-faced and giggling at myself in the car over what just took place. Did that seriously just happen to me? I obviously was so focused on myself and my needs that I failed to follow the signs marking the answer to my problem.

As funny as Friday’s experience was, it’s amazing how many times I’ve found myself in other similar situations. When facing a problem, I ignore the signs for help and direction God has placed in my path and I end up standing in the middle of a terrible, embarrassing or just plain sinful situation. What’s even worse is I don’t always immediately realize where I am. The longer we refuse to spend time with God and humbly seek Him, the harder it is to hear His voice and notice His direction. Any situation of pain or struggle, whether physical, emotional or relational is terrible and we must acknowledge it, but when we begin to idolize the pain and allow it to control us, we drift further and further away from God’s direction, healing and restoration. Over time, the problem becomes the only thing we can see and builds a barrier over our heart and eyes, inhibiting us from seeing or accepting truths God is trying to share with us.

The good news? In each problem I’ve been in, I eventually realized where I was (thank you, God!). Sometimes I was standing outside the door. Other times I was in the middle of the room, staring at the urinal and wondering why it was in the wrong restroom. No matter how deep I was in a wrong situation or how unlike Jesus I was behaving, I still got the opportunity to turn around and walk in the right direction. There’s a bit of shame and embarrassment, a bit of giggles at foolish decisions, but a whole lot of thankfulness for God providing a way out.

I love the way God uses embarrassing situations in our life to reveal truths to us. You better believe the next time I am faced with a problem, I will pause and look around to see if my surroundings are what they should be. Until then, I am simply going to try and make sure I avoid being in the wrong room. . .  because I probably won’t be lucky enough to walk into an unoccupied room the next time. 🙂

Act Justly. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly.



If there’s one thing in my life that I struggle with, its balance. I am one of those rare individuals that likes to get a lot accomplished because I get to knock out a long to-do list, but also loves getting lost in conversation with others or creativity sessions. I have a hard time feeling content while participating in either because I end up feeling deprived of the other.

Most days, my default option is to focus on the tasks that lie ahead of me. I get stuck on the “stuff” of life. It’s easy to see why– no one wants to be the irresponsible one. So, I do my work, clean the house, run the errands… all so I can check it off of my list. But what about the people I am around every day? Do I stop and smile at the woman I pass as I reach for the cereal that’s on sale this week, or do I even notice that there’s a human being next to me as I continue checking items off my list?

My desires are playing tug-of-war with my heart. Every day a different one will win. Does it have to be like this, or is there a key to living a balanced life of both doing and being? Will this only get worse when I have children?

Lord, reveal to me the areas of my life that need to be put back into balance. Remind me of my purpose and how my friendships, my job, my responsibilities, my finances, and marriage should fit together.