state of the blog, brought to you by the color pink

Last Saturday I loaded up my car with five of my small group girls and we headed down to Charlotte to do a little shopping because we could and also it’s fun.

pinkBefore heading home, we stopped by my sister’s house because “she has a blog and is awesome and like, famous!” I don’t think they even know I have a blog. Or wrote two books. I mean, I’ve been on TV in Canada. But whatevs.

pink

She had Valentine crafts for us to do because she’s The Nester and that’s just the kind of girl she is. They loved every minute of it.

pinkObviously. Goes to show that sweeping your floors and making your bed is one way to prepare for guests. But iced coffee, pink gum balls and paper streamers will mean more.

craft day at the nester's

valentine craft

hello gloves

While these photos have little to do with the state of the blog, I had to share them because 1) they’re cute and 2) after tomorrow it will be too late because Valentines Day will be over.

Now a few words about the state of things around here. Every few months I think about all the things I would put in a sidebar if I had one. But since I don’t, I have to put them in a regular post like this one. Warning: I might start to sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher in 3, 2, 1 . . 

  • Oops: An apology if you received Monday’s post twice in your inbox. We are in the process of transferring all readers who subscribe by email from Feedburner to MailChimp and that post accidentally went out twice. If you normally receive Chatting at the Sky blog posts through email, this is how they will look from now on.
  • Podcasting: I’m now one of Tsh’s regular podcast guests, which basically means there is a record of Tsh and me having a phone call and chatting it up about writing, parenting, and Friends once every six weeks. It’s more fancy than that because we don’t use regular phones we use microphones. Actually, if you have seen the microphone we use, you would call it a macrophone. Because it is huge, people. The podcast won’t change your life, but it makes folding the towels more interesting, no? 

podcast mic

It’s backwards here, but you get the idea.

  • Book 3 Update: I’ve been working on my first round of edits for book number 3, what has affectionately become known as The Art Book. That isn’t actually the title but among friends, that’s what we call it. We finished the cover (!!) and I can’t wait to show you that. Soon!

small group at the nester's

  • Readings for Lent and Easter: I will be reading Bread and Wine during the season. It’s a collection of writings by some of our favorite writers: C.S. Lewis, Henri Nouwen, G.K. Chesterton, Amy Carmichael and many others.
  • Footer: We’ve added stuff to the footer! When a blog has no side bar you learn to cram stuff into the footer. As we have now done.

What about you? Any fun updates? Great dinners you’ve made lately? Favorite blog post you’ve read? New design? Put on your Al Roker hat and tell us what’s happening in your neck of the woods.

when you want to be intentional but you need a little help

There will be two posts today. Two posts! Later today, I will post the first in a series I introduced last week. But first, this.

The past two years have carried with them a lot of change for me and my family in nearly every area – personal, professional and spiritual. Maybe you could say the same?

Because of that, I have pulled away from some of the social connections I once enjoyed. It wasn’t a premeditated withdrawl, more of a combination of learning (and often failing to learn) how to balance writing books with having margin, how to be fully present to my family, and realizing my own lack of motivation and energy to do much more outside of family and work.

I’m not saying that’s good, I’m just saying it’s true. I want that to be less true of me in 2013.

Last year was the first year of the (in)courage in real life meet-ups. I didn’t go to a gathering in my hometown because I was scheduled to speak at an event in California that same weekend. The Man and I flew out there together, and while I wasn’t working, we had a good time eating Mexican food and driving up the Pacific Coast Highway.

I do not regret that decision.

But there is something about the concept behind this event that I truly appreciate. Instead of launching another conference where women have to leave home, pay money, travel far, and meet people who live in different states (all of which I have done and enjoyed), the concept behind this conference is to gather with the women who live in your community.

(in)RL video

If you want to be intentional but need a little help, maybe this (in)RL meetup idea could be just the thing you need.

Registration opens today at www.inrl.us – below is some information that may be helpful for you to know, but if this sounds interesting and you have no idea what I’m talking about, visit the (in)RealLife registration page to learn more.

Did you attend an (in)RL meetup last year? Do you plan to go this year? Tell us about it in the comments. And then come back later today when we’ll talk a little about writing.

 

an attempt to put words on the heartbreak

I wasn’t planning to write anything in response to the horrific tragedy in Connecticut mainly because I didn’t know what to possibly say. Words don’t come fast for me, especially not at times like this. Though everyone carries the weight of grief very differently, it seems like we all know at least this - there are no words. 

Walking under a great cloud of sadness this weekend, I read this quote from an art teacher named Donna who works at a school nearby Sandy Hook Elementary.

“I don’t know if the rest of the country is struggling to understand it the same way we are here,” she said. “Life goes on, but you’re not the same. Is the rest of the country — are they going about their regular activities? Is it just another news story to them?” source

Even though there is nothing to say, after reading her words, I felt compelled to take my nothing and say it out loud, if for no other reason than to pay my respect.

Donna, I speak for me and my husband, a mom and dad living in North Carolina. Through my small words, we extend our hands and hearts to you, to your community, your teachers, your parents, and your children – this is not just another news story to us. 

Though we can’t possibly know what your community is going through, we imagine how horrific it must feel. And our imaginations are heavy with sorrow, though we all might show that very differently.

I watch my three elementary school aged children, two third graders and a kindergartener. Seeing pictures of Sandy Hook, I am struck by how much the school looks like ours.

I light four candles on my table and try to avoid the news.

I pray for the community of Newtown and remember that we are all still waiting for home.

I haven’t really said anything here. But I couldn’t continue to write until I spent a little time searching for words to put on the heartbreak, no matter how inadequate they are.

Words from The Jesus Storybook Bible from Luke 2:

They knelt on the dirt floor. They had heard about this Promised Child and now he was here. Heaven’s Son. The Maker of the Stars. A baby sleeping in his mother’s arms. This baby would be like that bright star shining in the sky that night. A Light to light up the whole world.

Chasing away darkness. Helping people to see.

And the darker the night got, the brighter the star would shine.

Read from women (and one man) who have more words than I do:

Newtown As I Know It by Jamie Martin who loves and lives there

God Can’t Be Kept Out by Rachel Held Evans

Beautiful Grief by Shannan Martin

“Friday we cried again…” by my Dad

how to listen to a friend

Hollie Chastain print

“afterschool” – print by Hollie Chastain

“When spiritual friends share their stories, the others listen without working. They rest. There’s nothing to fix, nothing to improve. A spiritual community feels undisturbed quiet as they listen, certainly burdened . . . but still resting in the knowledge that the life within, the passion for holiness, is indestructible. It needs only to be nourished and released.”

-Larry Crabb, Becoming a True Spiritual Community

This is day 15 of 31 Days to Hush. You can click here to see a list of all the posts in the series. If you would like to receive these quiet thoughts in your email inbox, subscribe now.

seven reasons why I can’t keep my eyes dry

A big week. Thanks for being awesome and supportive and putting up with me and my big self talking about the new book. I’m feeling small and thankful and emotional. Here are some reasons why, besides the obvious stuff.

1. Friday Night Lights is over. It’s been over for nearly two years for normal people. But I’ve been waiting to watch it on Netflix because I didn’t want it to end. This week I finally said goodbye to Tami and Coach Taylor and Tim Riggins and Buddy Garrity. It’s sad is what it is.

2. Annie Downs wrote a book. I spent some time with Annie this past weekend. Her book and my book released on the same day for the same audience and can I just be very honest with you? We are technically competitors. But it doesn’t feel that way. At all. The truth is, I’d rather do this with her than without her.

You’ve heard me talk about her book. It’s called Perfectly Unique and y’all? Annie is. She is all kinds of crazy brave and courageous without being obnoxious about it. She has a sweet mix of funny and normal and faith. She is a true friend and a great writer. So I’ve been thankful for her, for the unique relationship we have as writers of books for teen girls. It’s a gift to have a partner in this. Buy her book. And then? Read her letter to her teenage self. It is exquisite.

3. I’ve been thinking through things about church, about the shape of our souls, the beauty of community, the sacredness of truth. Lately, I feel like I’m changing a little everyday. It hurts and also is lovely. The Man and I pray together every morning and there’s something about love, coffee, prayer, and front porch sitting that gets me all teary and thankful.

4. My sixteen year old self needed a lot of tenderness and I didn’t realize it. I wrote a letter to her and I tried to be as honest as I could, to put myself back in that time and feel all of those emotions. It worked. I am a hot mess. And also?

5. Reading other people’s letters is slaying me. I still can’t tell why yet. Even the funny ones are bringing out weird emotion in me that I didn’t expect, can’t explain, and won’t try to.

6. On the Shores by Melissa Helser and Johnathan David Helser. First of all, they were so gracious to let us use their song for the Graceful video (by the way, the video was directed by Jason Windsor and was awesome). This song is powerful and living and every time she sings hallelujah, I have to raise up my hands.

7. The twins have made up a language. It’s ridiculous and awesome and just sounds like a lot of z’s. But they are 8 and they have their own language that they understand. I watch them and I am overcome with emotion, thankful they have a person, a sister. A gift.

What is something bringing out weird emotion in you lately?

graceful for young womenStill writing those letters. If you would like to join in, we would love to read it. Simply write it on your own blog and come here this Friday, September 14 to link up. Here are all the details. Some of my favorite writers who are writing letters today:

Annie Downs – I linked to it up there but I’m putting it down here because I don’t want you to miss it.

Stephen Martin - I love Stephen’s writing and his letter does not disappoint (you should check out his book, too) And also I feel kind of awesome that four men agreed to write letters. Stephen is one of them.

Mary DeMuth – Mary is an early mentor of mine. I’m thankful for her and her willingness to join in.

Kristen Strong – She read Sweet Valley High books as a teenager. Automatically love her. Her writing is lovely and kind.

Gary Morland – My dad wrote a letter. He is also a man. You can learn a lot about your family by having them write letters to themselves.

dear me . . .


Dear me at age 16,

So you finally got your braces off and you really do look great. That retainer you picked is going to last you forever, though, so you might want to re-think the purple.

emily freeman toe touch

I see you there as you drive to the baseball field, Peter Gabriel loud on the radio. Slow down, for the love of pedestrians. Don’t rush through these days.

That shortstop is cute and he likes you back. He will end up asking you to the prom. I know it seems like he’s so much older than you, but he’s only 17 and he’s nervous.

You will go together with Chris and Heather and you will have fun and you won’t get into trouble. But in two months, that shortstop will move to Utah and you will never see him again. It will crush you. You won’t remember anything about this summer because your heart will be so broken.

I beg you not to let that happen. Let your girlfriends in. Ask them to the movies. Laugh until your sides hurt. Even though you’ll never see the boy again, there are a couple of girls in that mess of people you hang out with who are true friends.

emily freeman

Talk to Mom. Go shopping with her. She loves that. Ask her to show you how to make her chicken and noodles. She prays for you and for the man you’ll marry in a short 8 years from now. He’s worth the wait. Thank her.

You know all that advice people wrote in your yearbook last year? “Never change!”

Don’t take it.

Change will be one of your greatest teachers. You’ve already thrived through two big moves. There will be two more. So when Dad tells you next year that you’re moving to Detroit, face your last year of high school as a grand adventure. You’ll only live there a year anyway.

Go to a U of M game. Learn how to say “car” like a Michigander just because that’s funny. Take a book to that coffee shop in Birmingham. Learn how to be alone. Laugh at yourself. Breathe in the smell of the hardwoods in your bedroom.

Write down the name of the color you paint your walls because when you get married, you’ll search for the perfect coral-orange and won’t be able to find it.

You know that pull you feel to be by yourself sometimes? That scatteredness that comes when you don’t have time to stare out the window? Listen to that space. That isn’t a character flaw and there isn’t something wrong with you.

I know you’re torn sometimes between going out on the weekends with your friends and hiding at home in the closet. You will choose your friends nearly every time. Might I encourage you to test out the closet?

You hate your feet and your ears that stick out, but begin now to embrace both the things you like and the things you don’t as God’s unique making of you.

I’m not going to tell you to love every part of your body, but one day when you meet your first daughter, you will see your feet differently. And when you have your son, you will smile at those ears because they aren’t just his – they are a heritage gift passed down from Dad, Grandma Morland, and Great-Grandma Dorothy. You are a person who has people.

That’s me in … prison? No. Cheerleading camp.

You just made the varsity cheerleading squad and I know you worked hard for it. And even though people think you are confident and accepted because of that, I know the truth.

You feel somewhat invisible and slightly unimportant. Even though you’re on the squad, you don’t really feel like you belong.

Mrs. Smith told you your English paper was strong and well-written. Listen to her. Ask her questions. Practice writing. You won’t remember for a long time how much you love it. But it will come.

You see things about God as being black and white. Soon, you will begin to see varying shadows of gray. That’s okay, it really is. Even though Dad has only been a believer for five years, sit down with him. Ask him your questions.

The way you choose to deal with your pain and questions may be different from some of your peers. But we are all wounded. Be kind, to them and to yourself.

You think being a good girl is the goal of your young life. You are secretly exhausted and in a few years, you will begin to wonder if it is all worth it. You will think you don’t have a story to tell. But you do, and it’s beautiful.

You have a great reputation, but that isn’t the most important thing. The goal is love. The older you get, you’ll realize that there isn’t a “right” way to pray, there isn’t one “right” way to do Church, and no one really knows what they’re doing.

I don’t know if it will be overwhelming or a relief to tell you this, but mostly I still struggle with some of the same things you struggle with. I’m learning to bring those things to God more quickly and without shame. That’s a big part of growing up.

You cry easily and you’ve been made to think you are too sensitive. You will spend a lot of time trying to change that about yourself. I hope you will learn to embrace your tears as kind companions, tiny hints to where your heart beats strong.

Spend time with your sister. She’s in her first year of college and she finally doesn’t think you’re a dork. Use that. Drive to her dorm, spend the night, ask her questions. You won’t live in the same town forever but one day she will be your best friend. It starts now. Live it up.

Find your brave yes. Fight for your strong no. When it’s time to move in a way that will affect change, honor the courage it takes to start.

Sometimes it will look like simply showing up, and that will be hard for you because you will feel useless. Speeches and banners aren’t the only ways to inspire change and movement. Sometimes simply opening your hands and releasing outcomes to God is the bravest thing you can do.

Your words have powerful potential. Learn to use them with conviction.

You are loved and you are safe.

emily

P.S. You will wear heels at your wedding. This is a bad idea. I strongly encourage you to find some flats.

graceful for young women

If you would like to write a letter to yourself as a teenager, we would love to read it. Here are the details.

Basically, write it on your own blog and come here Friday, September 14 to link up. Choose a graphic to include in your post. Here are some of my favorite writers who are writing letters today:

Stacey from 29 Linoln Avenue - We grew up in the same town in Indiana, which is bizarre. I love thinking of her doing life just like me, except not.

Allison Vesterfelt - She tells herself 3 stories and they are beautiful and powerful.

The Nester – My sister. Y’all. This is just too much. I’m dying.

The winner of the small group gift pack is Elizabeth Maxon! Congratulations. I sent you an email.


why I haven’t invited you to dinner

The Parting Glass comes on Pandora. I have to stop what I’m doing, still my hands, close my eyes to listen. The ache for heaven is strong today, the longing for a new earth.

I read this song goes back to Ireland and Scotland a few hundred years, sung at the end of gatherings of friends. And the idea of gathering with friends and then singing a song to end the night circles around my soul and captures a longing I can’t put into words.

And I wonder, as I listen, if I might have a disorder. Do I really know how to celebrate? Do I really understand the connection of community? Sometimes I wonder if I’ve ever truly touched the deep. Then I question if my hunger for authentic connection is unreasonable. The questions wear me out.

Hazelnut cream turns my coffee latte brown. Hers too. She knows how to celebrate. I take notes. We sit for a while, hands wrapped around the warm cups, children running through our own kind of play as we talk about things past and things to come.

This feels like home.

The dishes sprawl themselves out in my sink, waiting for the hot soap and rushing water. Friends came  last night and we shared a meal and our lives, all our kids laughing loud in the kitchen. We talked over their silliness, held tight to story-lines and connection even through the noise. I loved every minute of it.

We need to do this more often. Why don’t we do this more often?

The problem isn’t that I don’t  want to know you. The problem is that I forget how much, I forget to ask, I forget to circle the date on the calendar and plan to see you then.

As they pulled away from our house last night, I knew they would be home in less than two minutes. The tune weaved its way through my heart to my lips as I stacked the dishes and found the jammies for our kids.

“Of all the money that ere I had, I spent it in good company.

And of all the harm that ere I’ve done, alas was done to none but me.

And all I’ve done for want of wit, to memory now I can’t recall.

So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all.”

what’s it like to be an introverted woman in church circles?

Today I’m happy to have Adam McHugh join us here. He is the author of Introverts in the Church: Finding Our Place in an Extroverted Culture. He is also a Presbyterian pastor, spiritual director, and a hospice chaplain. And he is a better public speaker than you might expect. He is writing a second book called The Listening Life (a book we’ll have to wait until 2013 to read). You can follow him on Twitter and on his blog Introverted Church. I’m honored to serve as the hostess for Adam’s official last guest post on introversion, ever. Take it away, Adam.

I have been talking about introversion and church for so long that I have developed what I call my “introvert stump speech.” Here’s how it kicks off:

Let me paint you a picture of someone who might be held up as the very model of faith in many Christian communities. Imagine a person who is highly social and gregarious, someone with an overt passion, who finds it easy to share her faith with strangers, who is expressive and enthusiastic and transparent, someone who participates in a wide variety of activities, who knows tons of people, who eagerly invites people into her space, who quickly assumes leadership responsibilities, and who wears her faith on her sleeve.

Such a person would be highly praised in most churches, right? Churches would have a bidding war over her. If we met someone like that, we might be inclined to say that she is the epitome of faithfulness, that she really understands what it means to follow Jesus. And it is likely true that you would be describing a beautifully faithful person; however, you would also be describing a very extroverted person.

I chose the female pronoun “she” in that talk in order to be inclusive, but as I think about it, the gender issue raises another question for me. Is introversion and extroversion perceived differently among women than it is among men? I have been talking for several years about the “extrovert ideal” that pervades much of our broader culture, but I wonder if it is an even more acute issue for introverted women than for introverted men?

There is a type of introverted man in our society who is still heralded: the strong, silent type. Perhaps he is more common in older generations, but he still shows up among younger men that I know too. He keeps his emotions and his opinions close to the vest, yet he is perceived as a strong and influential leader. He is rugged, individualistic, thoughtful, a good provider, his own man, a little mysterious – just enough so that women think they can change him. He is a rock in stormy seas. But enough about me.

As far as I know, there is no female equivalent to the strong, silent man. I’m wading into uncertain waters here, but my sense is that a woman who is quiet, less forthcoming about her emotions and inner world, and less eager to participate will be perceived as standoffish or stuck up. If you’re the mother of a pre-schooler and you’re not sure whether you want to join MOPS because of inevitable social exhaustion that will ensue, then you’re in danger of becoming a pariah.

To be honest, I am constantly amazed at the social capacities that women have. Last weekend my wife graduated with her MBA, and I played the role of the proud husband, following her around at the reception and meeting all her friends. I witnessed a 25 minute conversation between my wife and one of her good friends, in which they discussed life, relationships, pets, books, interior design, families, food, and the future.

At the end of this conversation, my wife’s friend said, “Well, we should have dinner soon and catch up.” WHAT?? You’ve covered more topics in this conversation that I have ever discussed with my friends, in all our cumulative conversations since college, and you don’t feel like you’re caught up? If I talked about that much with one of my friends, it’s possible we would not feel a need to talk again, ever.

But such is the wild and wonderful world of female social dynamics. From my outsider perspective, it seems like an incredibly extroverted world, and I have to wonder what it’s like to be an introvert in such a relational culture. So, Emily’s readers, fill me in. What is it like to be an introverted woman in church circles, PTA circles, and any other social circles you participate in?  

We would love to hear your thoughts on that. As a thank you for adding your voice to the conversation, Adam has a couple of copies of his book to giveaway to  a few commenters. I am reading Introverts in the Church slowly and am about half-way through. He did an excellent job with it and it’s not one to rush through. We’ll notify the winners Monday, June 11.

so different we’re the same

We sit at the bar at the little cafe in the quaint Brooklyn neighborhood. We’re looking for breakfast even though it’s lunch time. I’d rather not think about food. It’s 2007 and I’m pregnant.

My college roommate and I are in town visiting friends, but they had to work so we went exploring. We get the menu and just when I’m trying to figure out how to hold my nose from the smell without looking four, I catch a glimpse of our surroundings.

Everyone is in gray, black, or muted earth tones. The guy who just walked in has lots of piercings. The couple by the window look dark, intense, content. I think one of them might be a man. The girl with the earbuds wears a black tank top, black pants and combat-ish boots. Her face is turned toward the window, but her eyes are closed. She sits alone. I look towards the door and just know that any minute, Neo and Trinity are gonna walk in.

I look at Faith sitting next to me. She’s wearing pastel. I have on pink lipstick. We do not blend in.

She realizes this the same time I do. One of us says, “Do you get the feeling that everyone is so extremely unique that they end up all looking exactly the same?”

I agree with us. And if you walked into a Starbucks in my hometown, you would say the same thing. Our collective same-ness would look different from this Brooklyn cafe, but you could draw the same conclusion.

I thought of that scene in Brooklyn last week as The Man and I drove up the Pacific Coast Highway in California. It’s like a different country over there. The trees look freakishly strong, like they worked really hard to grow and they have the twisted, gnarly trunks to prove it. I had to keep reminding myself, water on the left means we’re headed north. My head was spinning by the time we got to LA.

But there we were, on the whole other side of this huge country we call home, and I couldn’t stop watching the people. Same language, different life. It’s tempting to fill in the blank of their identity with just one label. The less we know about a group, the easier it is to do that.

We do it all the time in lots of areas.

We are complicated and multi-layered. They are just one thing.

We are deep, thoughtful and ironic. They are cheesy and irrelevant. 

We see things the right way. They are narrow-minded and small.

So where do you fall? In the “we” or in the “they?”

Guess what? You don’t get to say. Because no matter what, you are someone else’s they. And there’s nothing you can do about it. So just be you. Do your thing, rock the cheese, drop the labels, and dare to see.

she’s already amazing

“When is Annie coming back?” My five year old son asked me that last week as we played cars on the floor. Annie hasn’t been here in over a year. In his mind, too long. He wants her to come back.

I get it. Annie is one of the coolest girls I know. She has this unique ability to make everyone, from toddler to teenager to bonafide grown up, feel important. She knows how to stay present in the moment. She also has legit phrasing skills, once calling the green pepper a flavor hoarder. Or maybe it was flavor hog. Flavor thief? Either way, now I can’t eat salsa without tasting that pushy green pepper.

During one of her visits, my sister, Dad and I shared a meal with Annie. It was good conversation, both lots of talking and lots of listening. Dad later said, “That Annie, she’s something special.” Agreed.

Annie, teaching then-sophomore girls in our youth group.

Maybe you think Annie is amazing too – she blogs at Annie Blogs, she got brave and wrote about singleness for (in)courage, she moved to Scotland because she sensed God was calling her there for a time, and she self-published her own book, From Head to Foot. It was so awesome that Zondervan bought it, re-edited, re-vised and re-covered it and now we get a new book, Perfectly Unique. It releases in September.

Seriously, my high school girls small group read From Head to Foot last semester and it was a huge hit. The content was relevant and Biblical. Mostly though, it was Annie. We got to know her, could hear her voice, understand her perspective. We trusted her as a group.

But before the book, before Zondervan, before Scotland, she was already amazing. I trusted her as a friend. Still do.

Sometimes in this business of book writing, it can be lonely. You look at what other people are doing and compare yourself, for better or worse. You know it isn’t good for you, you know it won’t help, but there you go, doing it. And Monday morning before your day has even started, you feel discouraged and you can’t place why.

I have never felt that way with Annie. And I don’t think that’s because of me, I think it’s because of her.

Today I’m joining in the chorus of voices celebrating the women in our lives who are already amazing in honor of our friend, Holley Gerth’s beautiful new book, You’re Already Amazing. I endorsed that book, yes I did. And I didn’t do so half-heartedly. It’s a lovely book, filled with wisdom and encouragement and it would make a really great small group study.

Is there someone in your life who is amazing? Would you be willing to share her with us today? You can write a post and link up over at Holley’s place, or you can simply send out a tweet using the hashtag #AlreadyAmazing. Let’s be generous with our support of other women. I don’t believe we’ll ever regret it.

Blog Widget by LinkWithin