You know those times when you're riding high, feeling good, sitting back and thinking "all I do is win!"?

This is not one of those times for me.

In fact, quite the opposite.  Lately my thought has been, "I just can't win."

The people-pleaser in me learned a long time ago that I can't make everyone happy, but it's still hard when people are mad at you and despise you for reasons that don't add up.  But a wise person recently reminded me that God knows what's in your heart.

That thought is both a comfort and a challenge.  There will always be people who misunderstand our actions and intentions, but God will always know where our heart is.

I'm going to continue to make mistakes in my life - sometimes more than others.  And even when I don't mess up, there will always be people who don't see it that way.  Thank goodness for grace and thank goodness that the only One who matters knows exactly where I am and where I'm coming from.

(And then there are the times that you're in the middle of writing a blog post about not winning and  your husband makes a surprise visit to your office with these...


Life is good, my friends, life is good.

Some Political, or Not-So-Political, Thoughts

Once upon a time I was a political science major, spending my summers working in Washington, D.C. both on and off Capitol Hill.  It was a time when I found public policy endlessly fascinating and felt important because of the tours I gave, articles I wrote and hands I shook. 

(side note - of all the people I met and hands I shook, the most exciting was definitely the day I literally ran into Muhammed Ali as I was giving a tour in the Hall of Statues.  His hand completely encompassed mine and I'm not even sure I got words out.  A-mazing!)

But this morning I overheard myself saying to my husband, "Well, at least the commercials can stop in South Carolina.  Poor Florida."  Who was that person?

Truth is, I still enjoy politics.  I make it a priority to vote because I think it's a privilege, and if you get me far enough away from my role as pastor I'm more than happy to wax eloquent on my views about why small government matters.  But I made a choice, or rather a discovery, near the end of my time in college - I was far more passionate about and believed much more in the difference the Church can make in the world than government and politicians.  And if I was going to expend my energy and time in a specific arena fighting corruption, abuse, mis-informed ideas, hurt and suffering, I was going to do it in the Church.

The Church as an institution made up of imperfect human beings is broken, much like the government.  However, the Church still has a leader worth following, a leader who still believes in the Church and a leader who is willing to sacrifice popularity, political gain and His very life and His name is Jesus.

I choose to work for Him.  I choose to follow Him.  My hope is in Him.

Reality Check

Being 30 weeks pregnant is kicking my butt.

Well, let's be honest, being the mother of a 2-year old, pastoring a church plant and being 30 weeks pregnant is kicking my butt, but for now, let's blame the pregnancy.

I remember doing it all right the first time around - eating right, exercising regularly, reading the book every month and following the preparation checklist.  This time...well, let's just say I've already had two pieces of dark chocolate this morning and I'm currently drinking a diet Coke (I don't even like diet Coke!).

So what's the difference?  Reality.

Last time I had the luxury of soaking it all in and letting the pregnancy be the number one thing in my life.  This time, there's no checking out of the day-to-day.  If my 40-pound 2-year old needs picked up, I pick him up.  If a meeting needs to be had and 6am is the only time to do it, then 6am it is.

Truth is, I prefer it this way.  I know, wait, that's not where it seemed like this was going.  But, it's true.  Given the choice between utopia and reality, I choose reality...every time.  Why? Because it's real.  Because reality is where we're stretched and challenged, changed and inspired.

It's the same thing as saying "I wish I had one of those jobs where you checked in and checked out and didn't have to worry about anything."  For starters, I don't think those jobs exist.  And while there are moments that I long for that, I know I would be bored out of my mind.

I'm thinking this is part of the reason God sent Jesus.  God could have stayed out of the mess and fixed everything magically from a realm outside of human reality, but instead He chose incarnation.  He chose to come and be with us - in the mud, in the every day, in the stress and the balancing act and the uncertainty.

Did you catch that?  The Creator of the universe who could have it any way chose reality, our reality.

It's here in reality where I learn more everyday to trust God for all that I can't control.  It's here in reality where I shed tears that even I can't explain, the kind that can only by comforted by a Father who knows my innermost being.  It's here in reality that I get that Jesus' sacrifice was truly a sacrifice.  It cost Him everything to come and die for me.

So, I'm 30 weeks pregnant, half of our 4-person church staff is currently missing, my 2-year old is in an "I don't want to go to bed at night" phase, and still, I'm thankful.

Where Have I Been?

Nowhere, actually.  

Well, maybe that's not true.  Since my last post (yes, Greg, it was in August), I've been to the Eastern Shore of Maryland where I officiated a wedding in the middle of Hurricane Irene (that could have been a post), to Clemson University for the Clemson/Auburn football game (another potentially great post), to Atlanta for the Catalyst Conference, to the Outer Banks of North Carolina for another wedding (turned out to be windier than Hurricane Irene - go figure) and finally to Pennsylvania for a celebration of my Dad who turns 60 this weekend (watch for a post on my dad later this week).

I've been everywhere and I've been nowhere because the truth is I've simply been busy and got out of the habit of writing.

Have you ever noticed how readily we leave behind the disciplines of reflection and conscious thought when life speeds up?  I have, and I've also noticed how those absences always come back to haunt me.

So, I don't know where you've been lately or what's been keeping you up at night, but let me invite you to take a deep breath and slow down.  A little reflection, a lot of prayer and some time to think are worth their weight in gold.

I'm back...oh, and I'm pregnant :)

I Stink at Resting

Now, before you rush to judgment and think, "this is one of those posts where the writer thinks they're divulging a character flaw while really being all look-at-me, I'm so awesome I can't even stop my awesomeness to take care of myself," let me assure you, it's not.

I really stink at resting.  I waste time with the best of them.  I watch television shows that take hours of my life I'll never get back (Design Star being my newest fascination).  I play sudoku and solitaire before bed to make my brain stop doing somersaults with the information in my head.  But, I'm terrible at resting, actual God-commanded-I-feel-re-energized-when-I'm-finished resting.

Take today for example.  I had a really long week last week and worked 16 hours yesterday.  I needed to rest today and I made up my mind last night to do just that.  It started out pretty well when my son jumped in bed on top of me at 5:30 this morning and my sweet husband swept him up and took him from our room so that I could go back to sleep.  I managed to fall back asleep (a huge feat for me) and stayed asleep until 7:30.  I got up and played with Jake for awhile, ate a bowl of cereal and then headed to the gym.  Really I was too tired to go to the gym, but I told myself I would feel better after I went - I didn't.  I just felt more tired and frustrated with what had been a lame work-out b/c I was too tired to push.  I came home, showered and got dinner started in the crock-pot.  I ran two quick errands and landed, at all places, in my office.  (Again, this is not "I'm an awesome workaholic, please pity me" post).  I was not there to work.  I was there to grab lunch from the food leftover after yesterday's volunteer appreciation breakfast and lunch.  I ate, checked facebook, tried to upload our Rwanda video to youtube, failed and decided to move on.  I had a gift card to Kohl's in my purse that I thought I could go use.  I got there, realized I was too tired to get enjoyment out of walking around the store without a purpose (not unusual, I'm not a big shopper) and left.  Then I sat in my car...

I felt trapped.  My husband was at work, the babysitter was at the house with Jake and I really wanted to be at home watching a movie, falling asleep in the couch or reading a good book.  Only, I didn't want to go home where I could do those things b/c the babysitter is there and I'm worried she'll think I'm a slacker.  Plus, if I go home there will be cleaning and laundry and 80 other things that need to be done.  I contemplated going to the movie theater to see something, but there's nothing out that I want to see now that I've seen the final Harry Potter.

Now it's 1:30, I'm stressed that I only have 2 1/2 more hours before I go home and the babysitter leaves and I'm sad that I've squandered a rare opportunity to do whatever I want and simply rest.  

What's wrong with me?  Or, shall I say, "what's wrong with us?" because I'm guessing I'm not the only one like this.  We all live hectic, over-booked lives and we wait until we're at breaking point to rest and then we don't know how to do it.  Our list of "things I'll do when I get a free minute" is too long and our rest debt, much like our national debt, is too high to solve in one day.  We need to make serious changes to our lifestyle, but the truth is we're too tired to really think about it.

Hmm, I wonder if this is why God felt the need to make a regular routine of rest a command.  He knew we would be bad at it.  He knew we were just arrogant enough to believe we could go on forever without it.  So, how do we get back?  What does real rest look like?  How do we change our culture to encourage healthy, life-giving rest?

I need you blogosphere - help me.  How do you rest?  How do you help and encourage the people around you to rest?

Rwanda, Part 2

On our second day in Rwanda I tried to explain to our driver, Saidi, that where we are from in the lowcountry it is nothing like the beautiful, mountainous landscape of Rwanda, i.e. "The Land of 1,000 Hills."  Saidi told me to pick any hill I wanted in his country and I could have it as my own.  I believe he meant it.

In my life and travels thus far, I've never met people who were more proud of their country or more eager to share.  The hospitality we experienced was overwhelming from the hard-boiled eggs offered to us in Pastor Ildephonse's home, the bottled Fanta's and Coke's given to us by coffee farmers on the top of the mountain in Mbilima to even the barbequed rabbit legs cooked especially for us by the headmistress of the school in Kiryamo Parish, Bukonya. (for the record, I didn't actually eat the rabbit legs).

We went to Rwanda with the expectation of giving so much, but as is usually the case, we received so much more.  We gave them soccer balls, they gave us handmade banana leaf balls.  We gave them shoes, they showed us what it means to literally walk by faith.  We gave a home for orphans to live in, they taught us what home really means as we met widows who take in and care for children who are not their own.  We taught them to sing "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes," they sang us a song that said, "One night while I was sleeping somebody touched me, I know it was the Lord."  We paid rent for land to provide a sustenance farm and food for the orphans, they carried pineapples by the dozens on their heads up steep mountains for miles in order to offer us some sustenance for our travels.  We brought them hope, they brought us joy.

Some of the kids crowding in to say hi and welcome us to Kiryamo Parish School in Bukonya

Beans ready to harvest from the sustenance farm!

Saidi and John (my brother-in-law)

The team with our banana leaf balls.

This home will provide shelter for 12 orphans and two widows

RWANDA, Part One

“Rwanda was dead.”

So read the marker in the genocide museum in Kigali, Rwanda.  In 1994, over a million people were killed in the space of 90 days.  It was a people turned on itself and led to do something so horrific that the world needed to look away to survive. 

We started to glimpse the reality of the genocide on our first day as we stopped by one of many genocide memorials – little did we know getting out of our vehicle that we were about to walk into a church where 10,000 people were killed after seeking refuge in the house of God.  The wooden benches were piled high with clothes left behind to represent the lives of those who wore them.  The walls and ceiling were littered with bullet holes and dark blood stains. 

The story would be devastating if it ended there.  But we serve a God who brings life from death.  Today, Rwanda is alive again and I bring you overwhelming news that Jesus is again making a way where there seemed to be no way.

After leaving the church, our team sat in a village with a man who shared his testimony of killing some 30 or so people during the genocide.  He told us that he was dead as well, but then God forgave him.  When he sat down, the woman sitting next to him handed him her 6-month old baby who would not settle.  When we left, we were told that the same man who calmed her baby was responsible for killing several of her family members.

Forgiveness.  Reconciliation. 

Pastor Deo Gashagaza told us, “Reconciliation is not a philosophy.  It is a practice.”  He should know.  Forty-five of Pastor Deo’s family members were killed in the genocide.  He was a refugee.  When he returned to Rwanda at the end of the genocide, God called him to go into the prisons and start talking about forgiveness and love and hope.   Pastor Deo was the first pastor to go and share that message with the perpetrators of the genocide. 

Today Pastor Deo runs a Prison Fellowship Ministry in Kigali and has facilitated the establishment of several reconciliation villages throughout Rwanda where perpetrators of the genocide and people who lost their families live side-by-side, farming the same land, building homes for each other, starting again.  In addition to the Prison Fellowship Ministry, Pastor Deo runs a ministry for street kids.  Three times a week, he and his wife provide a meal for 85 kids.  Our team helped serve one of these meals.  We watched as the kids eagerly scooped up rice and spinach with their hands.  I cried as I saw one little boy eat ravenously and then move some food from his plate to his sister’s whenever she wasn’t looking.

Joy.  Hope.  Heartbreak.

This was day one of our trip.