Things don’t change. Problems are not solved. Angels are not singing. Rainbows are not bursting from clouds. There is no light shining like a halo around me. Simply, I am quiet. And that is it’s own miracle. With the rhythm of walking, breathing, being with God and what is true about me, there is a slight and almost imperceptible shift. My frantic movements are not so frantic now. I see things I would have missed.

We tend to pray with words because we aren’t brave enough to pray from our groaning soul ache. And so we chatter away with our Dear God, just…and we miss him in the middle of all. this. noise. He’s still there, though. He doesn’t roll his eyes or cross his arms or tap his foot with impatience. He hears all the chattering and he sees what lies beneath it. Even in the noise, He gathers us up and pours Himself out.

I come home after my walk, cheeks red from the wind, camera filled up with images of hope, soul breathing more deeply. I spent the time listening, but I can’t tell you what I heard, exactly. The language of the soul doesn’t always translate well into English. Instead, I lean my weight heavy into Him, longing to live in the quiet even in the midst of the noise. I know that may not be possible, not the way I hope. But this walk was a gift for reasons I’m not really sure of yet. And for that I am thankful.

We would love to read about your Tuesday walk by inviting you to add your link below. Be sure to include the permalink to your Tuesday post. If you need help to link up, this page will hopefully answer all of your questions. Be sure to link back here to Chatting at the Sky so that others can find our community. If you wrote a regular Tuesdays Unwrapped post, by all means still link up! I’m delighted you are here and so thankful for this community. What a gift these Tuesdays have been. The links will be open to add until Thursday evening.

“One of the most important lessons I have learned over the past few years is how important it is to have time and space for being with what’s real in my life — to celebrate the joys, grieve the losses, shed my tears, sit with the questions, feel my anger, attend to my loneliness.”

Ruth Haley Barton, Sacred Rhythms

I may know the importance of holding the truth of my life in my hands, of looking at it from all angles, of seeing what is. But there is a distinct difference between knowing the importance of being with what’s real and actually being brave enough to resist reaching for what I wish to be. It takes courage to sit with the reality of the questions, the desires, the sorrows and the joys and to simply let them exist on the surface in the presence of God. It takes time, a willingness to see, and the discipline to rest in the midst of it.

That’s what we practice here on Tuesdays. We take this day, whatever it holds, and look for the gifts. Sometimes it’s easy and quick, the gifts bursting from every common meal and conversation. Other times, the gifts seem to be hiding under deep piles of dust and broken things. But it has been my experienced during this practice that we generally find what we’re looking for. Might you join us in looking for the gifts today?

We would love to read about your Tuesday gifts by inviting you to add your link below. Be sure to include the permalink to your Tuesday post. If you need help to link up, this page will hopefully answer all of your questions. Be sure to link back here to Chatting at the Sky so that others can find our community. Welcome to Tuesdays Unwrapped.

Today, he builds with blocks. Today, he wants me to build with him and make up stories and weave the road for the cars through the town. Instead of being swept away by how big they are now or how much things have changed, take a few minutes to consider what is real and true this day – the lovely, the messy, and the unexpected. That’s what we are doing on Tuesdays in December. Look around, because one day not so long from now, this very day will be one of those days you look back on and treasure. Might we practice treasuring it now instead?

We would love to read about your Tuesday gifts by inviting you to add your link below. Be sure to include the permalink to your Tuesday post. If you need help to link up, this page will hopefully answer all of your questions. Be sure to link back here to Chatting at the Sky so that others can find our community. Welcome to Tuesdays Unwrapped.

We plow through the day, head down, eyes shut tight, hands busy, heart whirring, ears pounding with running lists and broken hearts and don’t forget the milk at the store. Our prayers are mostly talking and our hearts are mostly longing for something, anything other than this fast-paced life. And my job isn’t even one of those typically stressful ones like brain surgeon or president.

I consider the gifts hiding in secret but wide-open places. And when I do, He slows me and invites me into Himself. These gifts are not me, He says, but they are evidence of the mystery. What can I do but see them, pick them up, turn them over, and unwrap them? The grass is flattened in my front yard because they’re learning to play soccer. The washroom floor is covered in blankets because the whole family stayed with us. The desk is piled high with books and papers because I get to do the job I love.

This life is bursting with the mystery of God. Find the gifts that point to the Giver and be curious in your longing. Do not discount any season you might be in. Do not wave away that deep desire for more. Begin with the gifts at your feet and see where they take you.

We would love to read about your Tuesday gifts by inviting you to add your link below. Be sure to include the permalink to your Tuesday post. If you need help to link up, this page will hopefully answer all of your questions. Be sure to link back here to Chatting at the Sky so that others can find our community. I look so forward to reading your posts. Welcome back to Tuesday.

When it’s time to put it in the oven, the heavy dough sits rounded on the stone. As it begins to move, I watch in wonder. Because I may have added these things together, but I can’t make them breathe. And the idea that I made this dough with my own hands turns laughable now. Really? Where do you keep your storehouses of water? Did you mine the rocks or capture the sea water to get that salt? I am Job and the bread questions turn to earth questions and I’m wondering how the proud waves know where to stop and who gives the sun his orders and where night ends and morning begins.

I mix the dough, not because I know things, but because I have faith in those who have done it already. I am a student of bread and of life. Busy makes me too big. Slow brings me down low. I need to stay low, small, thankful.

One of my favorite thankful practices we started here over two years ago. Tuesdays Unwrapped began as a project to see life on purpose, to look at what is and embrace it rather than wish it different. Tuesdays gave us permission to take the time to unwrap the small, secret gift of the everyday. It was a year ago that I stopped doing Tuesdays Unwrapped as a weekly link up. It was one of those things I had to say no to in order to say yes to other things. But I have missed it, the weekly practice of noticing with a community.

Beginning tomorrow, I would like to unwrap my tuesdays again with you from now until the end of the year. While dear Ann invites us to list one thousand gifts on Mondays, I invite you to unwrap them one by one on Tuesdays. For tomorrow, I hope you’ll choose one gift of your ordinary day and find the miracle secret it holds. Write it out, breathe it in, capture its image, see it new. And then come here to tell us all about it by linking up. If you are new to this community, here is all the information you’ll need to prepare your post. I hope to see you tomorrow.

The tunnel living I spoke of last week doesn’t feel so heavy now. I met my deadline, turning in the latest project to my editor. This time, though, I didn’t dance a jig like I did when I turned in the manuscript. This time, I collapsed on the couch. I looked out the window and noticed the season and thought of Thanksgiving and smiled. And also cried a little. I miss a lot when I’m writing. You would think it would be the opposite, that I would be more aware of things, more open to inspiration. Instead, when I have a big writing deadline, I focus. And the focus is God-ward and inward and that’s about it. And I walk around with a see-through bubble on my head like an astronaut. Nobody can see it, but I know it’s there. And their voices are muffled, days run together, laundry piles up. We eat chicken a lot. As soon as I meet the deadline, the bubble comes off. It’s like magic. I can breathe clear. I see the dirty floors and don’t look the other way.

As I sweep, I realize I could never be someone who has a deadline every week. The bubble would become a part of my head, and I would always wear damp, dirty socks. But there are other things I see as the bubble dissolves into nothing. I see too much and I realize some things, even good things, will need to be released.

We’ve been doing Tuesdays Unwrapped here for nearly two years. What began as a personal project to embrace the messy, the lovely, and the unexpected gifts in the midst of everyday life became a community of women who encourage and inspire; co-celebrators and friends who I have secretly referred to for the past 2 years as the unwrappers. I am thankful for you. I celebrate you. And now, I have to be honest with you. I need a break. I want to embrace these daily gifts and live them – and sometimes hosting Tuesdays Unwrapped takes away from the living. It hasn’t always been that way, but because of the season I’m in, it is that way now.

I’m not sure when I’ll start it up again. But for now, today will be the last day to link up to Tuesdays Unwrapped. At least for a while.

I’m still listening to him breathe. It’s steady now. Loud, but steady. I’m not so worried about it as I was before. Still, an ENT appointment tomorrow to be sure all is well. The photos in this post are all from our front yard, all of the same tree from different perspectives – down on the ground, standing tall, looking up. That’s what you do with things when you want to really see them, you have to walk around and watch, you have to sit and listen to him breathe, you have to look at the facts and not so much the fear.

As I do that with my schedule, when I look at it from all angles, I realize this is one of those things that needs editing out. For now. Thank you for joining me in this space, for your encouragement, for your perspective, and for your grace.

The hurry slipped right out from within me while Annie was around. We talked of writing and fear, of loving high school girls and feeling like one, too. I didn’t wash a dish or do any laundry. But there was lots of soul-work going on, lots of visioneering and dream-stuff and rest.

Annie teaching some of our sophomore girls.

Spending time with people I enjoy, people who teach with more than words, is life-giving to me. I would love to be the same kind of friend, a person who teaches with more than words and offers soul-rest simply by being in the room. It is a gift we give to people, to co-create soul space with them and for them. Annie was that for me (and so many others) this weekend, and I’m so thankful for it.

Is there a person (or people) in your life who has a presence that offers peace? If so, or if you have another type of gift to consider today, I invite you to join us in celebrating. If you have questions, check out the information on my Tuesdays Unwrapped page. If you are reading in a reader, you may have to click over to see the links and I really hope you read at least a few. So happy here on my favorite day of the week. Join us?

And so there is this man in the midst of the living with me, my sickness and health, poor and rich covenant partner. And when my soul forgets to breathe, he reminds me. And sometimes he takes drastic measures, and sometimes I resist them. But he keeps on reminding, because that’s what covenant partners do.

Sometimes all it takes is a word, a look, a moment to remember to breathe in grace and love and truth. But other times, it takes days or even weeks. Discouragement begins to get comfortable with her feet up on the couch, and truth seems a joke. Setting your mind is an interesting thing; it takes practice and patience and faith. And that is why this life-giving, covenant relationship with my husband is so necessary. He reminds me to breathe.

Do you have someone who reminds you to breathe? If you would like to share them with us here, or if you have another gift you want to celebrate on this Tuesday, I invite you to link up. If you have questions, check out the information on my Tuesdays Unwrapped page. If you are reading in a reader, you may have to click over to see the links and I really hope you read at least a few. So happy here on my favorite day of the week. Join us?

We stood beside them as friends when they said I do, The Man in his suit and I in those heels and our littles holding onto both their white flower baskets and onto me as I said this at their wedding. They came over regular and played with our kids on the floor in front of Dora, and then patiently waited as we put them to bed. As the kids slept quiet in their cribs, we’d all settle in to watch LOST together because it’s just not the kind of show you watch alone. A few years later, we prayed for them when they wanted so badly to have a baby of their own, I was sad for her when it seemed it wasn’t going to happen, and we were excited with them as they felt moved toward adoption.

About a year ago, they sent in the initial adoption paperwork and I thought I knew how their story was going to play out. Until four days later when she pulled me aside at a wedding of a friend: Don’t freak out and she sneaky showed me a photo on her phone of a positive pregnancy test. Needless to say, I freaked out. Because she is a long-time, way-back friend and that’s just what you do.

So tonight, they came over for dinner and Chuck – different show, same old times. As the evening passed with a familiar but new set of rhythms now that they have a baby of their own, I realized how very much I love these friends, these times we get with them to catch up and laugh and watch great-to-us TV and eat too much ice cream. We may not be able to do it as often as we used to, but today I remember to remember to love that we did it last night.

Maybe you are living in the midst of normal weekly gatherings, or friendly dinners, or favorite TV night parties. Because you live in the midst of them now, it is hard to see the gift they will be to you when the regular isn’t regular anymore. What are the gifts you are living today? Open them up and tell us what they are.

If you would like to join in, welcome! If you have questions, check out the information on my Tuesdays Unwrapped page. If you are reading in a reader, you may have to click over to see the links and I really hope you read at least a few. This will be our last Tuesday to unwrap together until November, so let’s make it count.

“Life, the being aliveness that is each of us, isn’t a little thing, but it’s the sort of thing we tend to forget about until we stumble into it in the middle of the night and try to remember what exactly this large thing is we left lying in the middle of the floor. Oh, yes . . . I am alive.”

- from Blessings Like Winged Horses

. . . because the way she talks about living is the way I think it in my head, and I like to find people who talk how I think because it makes me feel normal and connected.

“I was going to leave the meeting and finish out the day at the coffee shop, but halfway there I took a hard right and drove home to my boys instead. I rattled into the driveway and there they were – all five of them: three littles, light sabers drawn and ready for battle; one big, sipping a hoppy ale and smiling at my early return; and one hairy, lazily raising his head to check me out before resuming his afternoon snooze.”

- from Boy Crazy

. . . because she’s all girl in a house full of boys and she knows what it means to come home.

“I spent all year last year trying to be someplace else. I wanted big open skies, I wanted silence, I wanted to see the stars, I wanted a chance to start all over again, to create a different life. And then I got a job two blocks from my church, and an apartment a mile from both, and I realized, I am called to be here right now. I am called to be in the city with its light pollution and its noise pollution and its lack of green space and because I am where I believe God has called me to be…”

- from Simply Life

. . . because her choice to embrace the now rather than wish for the later is the perfect reminder to be where you are with all the gifts, however small, that right now has to offer.

“I sit, open my small journal, the one for LIFE and not so much DREAMING, cautiously I peek inside. It holds to do lists. I hate to do lists. I try to start a new page, one with “Direction” as the title. Hoping to find mine. I doodle a poinsettia along the edge instead. I write down “up”. And close the book.”

- from To Think is to Create

. . . because her life is spelled surrender, and she knows the gifts that come from living it upside down.