a place for your soul to breathe
Ever feel like you might possibly maybe perhaps have something to offer the world around you but you just can’t manage to find the courage you need to open your hands and offer it?
Or open your mouth and say it?
Or pick up your pen and write it?
Or swing wide your door and let them in?
Today at (in)courage, I’m sharing 3 ways to be brave when you feel like a wimp.
Today I’m writing at (in)courage – One Painfully Obvious Thing a Genius Taught Me About Life. It’s a good thing, too, because after watching Downton last night, I’m not sure I can gather my wits together enough to come up with a fresh post.
Y’all. Y’all.
I will remain silent so as not to spoil things. Let’s just say I feel like I should have seen that coming, but I did not.
Also, I’m not quite finished with my Artists & Influencers post for this week. I know I said it was going to be a Monday series but it’s turning into a Tuesday series. I love being the boss of me.
The topic? The people who are teaching me about church. Will post that tomorrow.
Until then, wanted to also let you know this Wednesday we’ll release the fourth and final video in the Letting Go of the Try Hard Life video series. You can watch the previous three videos here.
My publisher and I partnered with several radio stations to produce these videos – so if you are in the Charlotte, Columbia and possibly some spots in Pennsylvania, I’ll be joining Eric in the studio again this Wednesday on the morning show. Or if you live anywhere, you can listen live online. I should have just said that first, I guess.
In summary – go here to read about my a-ha moment at the Apple Store and then when you take a mid-morning break from your work, you can watch the week 3 video in the Letting Go series (scroll half-way down the page).
Then when you need a longer break, watch last night’s episode of Downton. Because you have to.
See how I planned your Monday out for you? You’re welcome.
P.S. Sometimes I buy $10 diamond rings. My sister told me if I was 80 years old, that rock might be believable. My latest find is pictured above.
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.
Over the past 35 years, I’ve watched my parents do things that have made me laugh, think, and roll my eyes. But when I first heard about this thing my dad does in the mornings, I knew I was going to have to start doing it too.
Four days before Christmas, while the kitchen is filled up with newly bought groceries, the kids spend their last day at school before break, the tree hangs on to drying pine needles, I need to remember how to reset my internal clock in the midst of the hurried bustle, the quiet grief from the events of last Friday, and the deep longing for Immanuel.
Want to know how to reset your internal clock, too? I’ll tell you over at (in)courage.
She is at a friend’s house to play. She’s six and she hates peanut butter but eats it anyway because that’s what her friend’s mom serves for lunch. She stays quiet about her preference.
She doesn’t want to trouble anyone.
On her ninth birthday she listens through thin walls as her parents fight about nothing and everything. She knows there isn’t anything she can do to make them love each other again.
She feels a sense of shame that she can’t explain.
She turns thirteen and is the third best friend of two fighting girls who both tell her their side. She feels overwhelmed with the middle-ness of it all . . .
I’m writing at (in)courage today about a girl living the try-hard life. I would love it if you would join me there and enter to win one of 5 copies of Graceful.
There is a quiet space waiting just for you. Are you missing it like me? We’re finding quiet spaces in a loud, loud world at (in)courage today. Join me there for day five?
This is the fifth post in a series, 31 Days to Hush. Click here to see a list of all the posts, updated daily. If you would like to receive these quiet thoughts in your email inbox, subscribe now.
August is back again with her feather duster and her intentions to ready the house for the months to come. July still hangs around in the backyard with his hat pulled down low over lazy eyes, drink in hand, feet never seeing the inside of a shoe. But August is in the house now and she hasn’t stopped moving. She writes lists, makes plans, kneads bread.
August whispers things to come: trees changing, a book release, his first day of kindergarten. It will be a full fall, there’s not doubt about that. But we still have August and that means summer hasn’t left us yet. There is still time to consider what we most want this year to look like, what our longings are for our family, our friendships, our work.
Jesus asked a lot of questions to people he encountered. What do you want me to do for you? and What is it you seek? He knew the answers, but it seems he knew something they didn’t know about the importance of people getting in touch with their deepest desires. August is a nice time to consider those things we long for, no matter what they might be. Not because we will get them or even because they are necessary. But maybe we can learn something of ourselves when we are honest with ourselves before God.
We’re asking the question over at (in)courage today: What Are You Longing For?
Dad is putting up a fence in the backyard. It’s summertime and I’m seven. He leaves a space at the tree so we can still cut through to Missy and Shelly’s. They have a tire swing and a basement. They get the channel with Fraggle Rock and their mom buys pop in cans, packs of six. I secretly think they might be rich. Today we’re learning to tell our summertime stories. Join us at (in)courage?
Since the first day it started, I’ve been writing for (in)courage. It’s a lovely community of readers and writers – supportive, encouraging, open. But I often struggle writing there and I’ve finally taken some time to figure out why. I’m there today – When Your Art Makes You Uncomfortable.
My third ever newsletter went out yesterday. You can see it here and if you want to receive the next one, you can sign up here for free. If you want to join our summer discussion of Grace for the Good Girl, be sure to check that box when you sign up.
When I was in the fourth grade, my family moved six hours away from my Indiana hometown. I started out as the shy girl and kept to myself. But in our new home in Iowa during the summer of 1988, shy got me nowhere. I quickly made friends with Jessica across the street and Sarah on the corner by being fun and happy. Accommodating. Pleasant. Able to blend. I was a human chameleon, and I didn’t even know it. I continued with that way of coping for many years. I didn’t realize I was coping; I just thought it was me. I’m laid-back. Things don’t bother me. I’m easy to get along with.
And I was, until I got hurt. And when I got hurt, rather than facing the hurt and being honest about the fact that it was there, I hid the hurt and hoped it would fade away. Instead, it seeped into my skin and came out in other ugly ways: passivity, disconnectedness, anger. I didn’t know how to share the hurt. And so it festered, I hid, and the mask got tighter.
Hiding behind fine isn’t always an indicator of fear or insecurity. Sometimes it just takes too much energy to be authentic. I want to turn my emotions off, put my hurt up on the shelf, set the glaze in my eyes and the half-smile on my face. Not necessarily because it feels safer, but because it’s just easier. And just like people who struggle with emotional eating or excessive exercise or any other type of addiction, I recognize my addiction to wanting to be left alone. I am addicted to the island of myself.
I remember listening to Brene Brown give a keynote speech at a conference last year, and she made a memorable distinction between being vulnerable and being intimate. I don’t believe we have to be honest and tell everyone how we are doing, the intimate details of the state of our hearts. But might we dare to be honest before God, to trust that he is wise enough and loving enough and intuitive enough to usher us into being vulnerable with certain people?
I recently thought more about these things as I wandered through the empty, brick streets of Seaside, FL. I share more about this at (in)courage this morning. Join me there?
Portions of this post are revised excerpts from Chapter 4 of my book, Grace for the Good Girl. You can read the first chapter here or for the lowest price I can find right now, you can purchase the book for $9.99 at CBD. It is also available on Amazon, or at your local Barnes and Noble, Family Christian, or Lifeway bookstore. If you’ve already read the book, (or even if you haven’t) I would love to hear your thoughts or stories on this struggle between being intimate and being vulnerable.
There isn’t one great thing you were made to do. There's one great God you were made to glorify. When you embrace the unique shape of your soul and live as the person you most fully are, art comes out. (Coming Nov. 2013)
My first book encourages tired women to let go of the try-hard life. Instead of trying to grab on to grace, what would it mean to let grace grab on to you?
Written especially for teen girls encouraging them to give up on perfect and instead trust the One who is.
