When I’m Famous

Posted on July 6, 2013 by Joy

A question from a beautiful young friend sent my thoughts into overdrive. The question was this… “Why don’t more people follow me on Twitter?”
My answer was robotic,
“Well, is your account public or do people have to ask to follow you?”
“Do you post 1-3 times per day or just occasionally?”
“Do you complain a lot?”
“Are you saying things that interest, inspire and/or encourage the people reading?”

I then realized, as she stared blankly back at me, she didn’t want a generic answer from a marketing perspective. She wanted me to reassure her that she is worth following. To look at her and say, “You are worthy of being heard and seen. You are worthy of acceptance.”

Has it really come to this? Do we measure our worth by how many people follow or unfollow us each day? Do we evaluate the meaning of our experience by how many “likes” it receives? Are we grading our worth by how many views our creativity brings? I look at my stats multiple times per day. Views on my blog, likes on my Facebook posts, followers in my Twitter feed, repins on Pinterest.

I’m an affirmation junkie! I would bathe in affirmation. I would eat it for breakfast, take deep breaths of it during meditation and swallow two pills of it before bed.

I’ve said it before…my insane thirst for approval is one of my most glaring character defects. It’s a monster disguised as sincerity. It’s sneaky and cunning. It says, “I want you to like me even if I don’t like you.” Because that somehow makes me feel as if I matter.

How many followers are enough? If I become famous and all of you know my name, is it enough? If my face is plastered on magazines and talk shows as “the next big thing” is it enough? If the richest, most well-known people on the planet call me their friend, am I satisfied?

No darlings. I’m not satisfied. I want more. My appetite only grows bigger and more insatiable. What a hideous thought!

So what’s the solution?

A daily reprieve. That’s right! Each day, returning to grace. In the morning, before the day begins, saying, “Today, I will not measure my value by the numbers in my feed. Tomorrow, I may. Yesterday, I struggled. But today…Today, I am measured by the One who created me with great purpose. (You knew I couldn’t finish this without playing the God card!)”

Is it hard? Yes! Will I fail? Yes! I’m the worst offender at this. I wish I couldn’t even see how many of you read my blog today. However, there is no better way to combat my internal monster than to acknowledge and confront it.

So, here is my declaration. For the next 30 days, I will focus on promoting others more than myself. It will be difficult when fear says that without self-promotion I will fail to achieve. Here’s the cool part, truth says, “All that matters is what my heavenly father says.” And He adores me. So you’ll have to excuse my lack of concern for your approval. I’m focused on emanating a light that long outshines that of worldly fame and recognition.

Don’t know where to start? I’ll help.
Read “Love Does” by Bob Goff. Download the audible version (it’s read by the author whose enthusiasm is contagious.)
Help end exploitation of others by joining the efforts of organizations like Wellspring Living.
Experience redemption and grace in action with POTSC.
Support efforts to reach those who need it most with Sole Hope.

I would love it if you came back here and told us about your experience, but that is not a requirement. The important part is that we do it. We get outside of ourselves and our numbers, discovering more than we ever would have otherwise.

What are you waiting for? Start now. Begin anywhere. Blessings and light go with you.

Twenty-four hours with Asher

Posted on June 30, 2013 by Joy

Many of you have followed Asher’s story. In my writings I said that it was Lindsey’s story to tell and she would talk when she’s ready.

Well, she’s ready. It’s beautiful…full of hope…an example of courage in the midst of horrendous circumstances. I have not changed or added to any of Lindsey’s words. They are directly from her.

I know she would appreciate your comments and sharing with others who could be positively impacted by her story and Asher’s life.

“As Joy so beautifully and eloquently wrote, my son Asher Knox, has a story. Our family has a story because of this miracle baby. Anyone who met our sweet precious boy, has a story…like Joy does. It’s because most people can’t tell stories of angels because they never meet one. I grew one inside me for 35 weeks and 3 day.
Some outsiders may say Asher’s story is one of heartbreak, one of tragedy and that it has ended. I can see how that can be a thought as I would be lying if I said those thoughts never entered my mind. But when it comes down to the truth, Asher’s story is one of all-consuming love, a will to fight, and down right determination.
I will not go into the 9 months of details, but what I will share is that my husband and I found out when I was 15 weeks along , that Asher had a form of Skeletal Dysplasia—aka dwarfism. Since it was caught so early on, the many doctors I saw were confident that it was a lethal form…meaning IF Asher made it to term, he would not breathe and would die very shortly after birth. We were given the choice to terminate at that point, which is an awful place to be for anyone…PRO CHOICE or PRO LIFE. You are deciding the fate of your child to a certain degree at that stage.

I was never one of those people who voiced their opinion on PC vs PL as I figured I would never be in that position and I could see arguments for both sides. However, when it came down to it, we felt that if God didn’t want us to have Asher, then why allow us to conceive him? If he was not meant to be, God would end the pregnancy at some point but we could not bear the thought of stopping our child’s heart by choice. If he were to go, it would be when it was his time.
Fast forward to May 26, 2013 when I gave birth to the angel inside me. I had no expectations but hopes that I would be able to hold my son and have him look at me long enough to know I was his Momma. I got that moment. I got not only that one but 23 hours and 45 minutes of moments. Each of those seconds I spent with Asher were not filled with tears, but of hand holding, hair smelling, belly kissing, storytelling, and more cuddling and group praying than I can count. Because of Asher, my husband, Asher and I were able to feel more love from family, friends and strangers than I could EVER begin to imagine. We felt very blessed and still feel blessings entering our lives each and every day.
Yes, I said BLESSED. You may be thinking, “Why does this woman feel blessed if she carried her child to term, only to say goodbye less than a day later?” That’s just it. I had a day. Actually I had almost 36 weeks of enjoying ultrasound photos and kicks and somersaults. I got to watch my belly get bigger every week. I was able to be a MOTHER. How many people never get that opportunity? I truly believe there are many women out there that cannot get pregnant or carry their own child, and if given the choice, they would take 24 hours versus nothing.
To quote my favorite movie Steel Magnolias…..”I would rather have 30 minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special.” I have watched that movie easily 75 times in the past 20 years. How ironic that that quote would be something I would experience and believe myself when my son was created.

So what is life like now after Asher left to fly with the angels? It is tough, no ifs, and or buts about it. Actually tough is a kind way of putting it. Grief is a feeling that cannot be put into a definition properly. It consumes you at certain points. It hits you when you least expect it. Just when you think grief has left the building, it becomes the act on the main stage. I miss my buddy, every single second of every day.

Never would I have thought I would welcome the heartburn, the painful feeling of pressure from him pressing on my organs, the Gestational Diabetes and pricking my finger 4 times a day. That sounds like bliss because HE was with me, safe and sound.

I realize there will be no rocking to sleep, no report cards, no chances for me to leave notes in his Toy Story lunch box. My husband and I will miss out on teaching him to ride a bike and kiss booboo’s. No homecoming dances, no first haircut, no cliche Easter bunny and Santa Claus pictures. That’s the stuff that hurts the most~the things not only we, but Asher will miss out on.

I know I will see him again and that he is waiting patiently for us. This life is temporary and I am comforted knowing that at the end of the day, I have an angel baby that I will spend eternity with. I would never have that opportunity if we didn’t choose the road less traveled….carrying to term.

Again I say, I AM BLESSED. Everyone has darkness in their lives, but there is also light. You just have to look for it …or be open to it. My darkest days did not kill me. They may have knocked me down and I still have to take it one minute of every day at a time. But I choose to be happy. I choose to honor my beautiful son Asher by not seeing his life as a tragedy or one that has ended.

His story is just beginning. And so is mine.”

The Day I Stopped Pretending

Posted on June 21, 2013 by Joy

I just closed facebook after looking at post after post of smiling faces and documented moments of bliss. Multiple pictures of the same child and blurry pics of someone’s dinner. Enthusiasm over the seemingly mundane and the incredibly exciting.

So I understand, when you tell me that you get to a point where you can’t bear looking at your timeline. I do. I empathize when you say that it makes you depressed and borderline resentful.

Do you know what else I see on Facebook? Opportunity to keep it real. Opportunity for outreach. A platform, not a pedestal. Community that is all-inclusive.

I read several posts requesting prayer for… a family of five answering the call to minister in a third world country, abused children, a sister who’s only been given weeks to live…a daughter mourning the loss of her mother to cancer…a mama who had a baby pulled from her womb and less than 24 hours later whispered her goodbyes.

There are pleas of desperation as well as glimpses of newfound hope. Sometimes you have to look for the light and other times you have to be the light, breaking through the cynicism.

Here is my challenge for you. Use social media today to post something hopeful. Encourage someone by tagging them or recognize a group of people fighting for positive change. Then come back here and tell me about it. I want to know. This community wants to know.

As Anita Roddick put it, “If you think you’re too small to have an impact, try going to bed with a mosquito.”

If you’re fed up with your news feed, try following some of these rock stars.

: https://www.facebook.com/peopleofthesecondchance?fref=ts

: https://www.facebook.com/iamj3love

: https://www.facebook.com/atlantamission?fref=ts

: https://www.facebook.com/LoveGivesWay?fref=ts

: https://www.facebook.com/WellspringLiving?fref=ts

: https://www.facebook.com/solehope?fref=ts

: https://www.facebook.com/lightgivesheat?fref=ts

: https://www.facebook.com/pages/John-S-Riley-Motivational-Speaker-and-Humorist/202347483112761?ref=ts&fref=ts

: https://www.facebook.com/buckheadchurch?fref=pb&hc_location=profile_browser

When Beauty is a Beast

Posted on June 11, 2013 by Joy

I am currently mentoring several young women who are entrusting me with their story and a place in their journey. I’m not even sure how it happened, nor do I feel equipped to mentor anyone, but God doesn’t call the equipped, He calls the willing and provides the equipment.

To be honest, it helps hold me accountable for my thoughts and what I’m telling myself. I think God brought these young ladies into my life as much for me as he did for them… maybe more.

It’s no secret that my relationship with food and exercise is less than ideal. For those of you who don’t know, imagine a really nasty divorce from someone who tried to kill you, but you have to live in the same house with them after the separation. That’s a pretty accurate depiction.

I do great most of the time, but when the body image monster sneaks up on me, it does so with a vengeance. I go from being comfortable in my skin to feeling like the reflection in a fun-house mirror. Feelings are constantly changing, so I have to hang on and wait for the change. It’s hard.

The other day I was walking through a department store looking at the clothes. Remembering when I fit in sizes much smaller than the ones I wear now. I felt myself getting negative the further down skinny lane I strolled. Years of excuses flooded my mind.
“I had an eating disorder so I have to be careful about exercise and restricting my food.”
“I’ve had 3 children with the last one being a c-section. My stomach will never look the way it did before.”
“I gave up alcohol, I’m not giving up my Starbucks drinks.”
“If I have to go without chocolate and caffeine, I will not be of any use to anyone.”
And so it goes. The mental cyclone.

And then, I think of my girls. The ones who have cut marks into their skin with razors, stuck their finger down their throat to purge the pain, starved their body in hopes of starving the monster within and numbed loneliness with substances. The ones who count on me to speak wisdom from my life experiences into their heart and mind. I think of their faces and their fragile image of self. I think of all the times I talk about being comfortable in my skin. The fact that I have been chosen to speak truth about their incredible worth is confirmation that I cannot go down the road of ego-induced thinking. I have to continually humble myself before the Father and ask Him to speak what is true directly into my mind.

I also have to be vulnerable and honest about the fact that I still struggle. What better way for the evil one to derail our ability to positively influence others than by attacking our self-worth? There is a truth that never changes, “My Creator knows me and He calls me by name.”

I want to combat my extreme tendencies with consistent patterns of self-improvement. It’s difficult and I cannot do it alone. I have armed myself with women who I know will respond to my irrational thinking with truth and love. Women who will come around me when I need wise counsel. Women who empathize with my circumstances. Do you have a woman like that in your life?

We all need community, Beauties. It can mean the difference between life and death. Mental, emotional and spiritual death, can be far worse than physical death. God did not create us to go through this life alone. Jesus had 12 close friends who went everywhere with him. Isn’t that a community?

I want to encourage you to reach out to a trusted source this week and speak your fears out loud. You will be surprised how much power is relinquished when shared with another. Do you believe me? Try it. It might just change everything.

Five Minute Friday: Song

Posted on May 17, 2013 by Joy

The following is a song that I have been listening to on repeat for the last several days. When the world gets loud, I want to hear His voice.

Here’s my heart Lord…
Speak what is true

Here’s my life Lord…
Speak what is true

I am found, I am Yours
I am loved, I’m made pure
I have life, I can breathe
I am healed, I am free

‘Cause You are strong, You are sure
You are life, You endure
You are good, always true
You are light breaking through

You are more than enough
You are here, You are love
You are hope, You are grace
You’re all I have, You’re everything

Click to hear David Crowder singing the album version of “Here’s My Heart” from the Passion CD “Let the Future Begin”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?annotation_id=annotation_144185&feature=iv&src_vid=p3UxfvNbBx0&v=lTxED4_j8kQ

What are you telling yourself these days? Are you listening to the world or to the one who knows you best?

For the Volunteer

Posted on May 13, 2013 by Joy

Dear Volunteer,

I am a mother of 3 and have experienced every children’s ministry environment offered at Buckhead Church. I was watching Large Group in Waumba Land Sunday morning when years of memories came flooding in. As the children raised their hands in worship, I was overcome with gratitude.

I wish I had thanked you sooner. Only, I didn’t have the words. On this day, while standing in the back watching men and women, with busy lives, volunteer to surround our preschoolers with truth and light, the words came faster than I could process them.

UpStreet, thank you for welcoming and ushering in my 7-year-old with bed head and a half eaten pop tart in his hand. Little did you know, just 5 minutes before, I was sitting in my car contemplating not coming in. You removed the weight of the world in those few moments at check-in.

Transit, thank you for sacrificing your time to my confused middle schooler (now in high school) not only on Sunday, but for retreats, special outings and all the texts/calls/emails in-between when you were the only voice of reason. In those times when my words fell on deaf ears, yours were heard, felt and followed. You didn’t know that the weeks leading up to boot camp she had contemplated suicide. Thank you for praying that prayer with her on the last night of camp. You were able to speak hope in a way that I couldn’t. I wonder how many souls have been saved because of your investment?

Waumba Land, thank you for greeting my child with a warm smile at the door when he had arms crossed, furrowed brow and feet firmly planted outside the room. Thank you for playing referee when he was “the runner.” And the times you took his hand while looking at my worried face and said, “Go to service mom. We will be just fine here” as he screamed and kicked, were the days I got the most from the message. You didn’t know this, but when my alarm went off that morning I hit snooze and strongly considered staying in bed. Your interactions with my child motivated me to get up and out even when it felt like staying home was avoiding a battle.

Host Team, thank you for making sure I don’t get lost in the crowd. I have been attending for years but there was a Sunday, last year, when I must have looked lost because several of you welcomed me and asked if you could help me find where I was going. “No thanks.” was my response, but the fact that you took notice and offered to help meant so much. You didn’t know this but the next day my 36-year-old friend passed away 9 months after being diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She left behind a husband and two small children my kids ages. We had grown up together and I felt like part of my childhood was buried with her that day.

Parking Team, if maintaining a highly functioning team of hundreds to get people in and out of one of the busiest areas in Atlanta was an Olympic sport, you would, without a doubt, take the gold. Thank you for showing up, rain or shine, putting on a vest and a smile and waving your flashing wand. You may not know that more than once I have tried to use the excuse of “traffic” and my preschooler would say, “Mommy, can the ninjas in orange vests with lightsabers show us where to park?” What can I say to that? Out of the mouth of babes…

Facilities and clean up crew. Thank you doesn’t even seem close to appropriate. Wow, you have a tough job and you do it seamlessly. Without you, no other environment would function and thrive.

I know you hear how much you are appreciated from those in leadership. It’s one way I’ve rationalized not writing to you. I’m just a face among many. There are thousands just like me. Unfortunately, we avoid writing letters like this one because of fear. The fear that I will leave someone or something out. The fear of not saying what I really feel…of not being able to wrap words around the impact you have had and continue to have on the lives of those you don’t even know. The next few sentences sum up the essence of this letter.

You need to know that, because of you, my life is better. My children are better. My family is better. Don’t you see, your commitment to show up week after week is changing the world outside our door. It’s enriching lives and encouraging families towards each other instead of away. What you’re doing is being the change that most only talk about and rarely do. You are leading by example and because of that, people are being reached in ways that would not have been possible were it not for your decision to serve.

Evermore thank you. From the depths of my heart….I am truly grateful.

Losing my religion…to a hair stylist

Posted on May 1, 2013 by Joy

Alright ladies, listen up!

If you are a “Christian” who feels guilty because you want to look nice, raise your hand. Darlings, when did God declare, “There shall be no highlighting of hair, painting of nails, or staining of lips”? Who told you that beauty isn’t important to the one who created it to begin with?!

I am so tired of hearing women bash other women because they’re pretty, curvy, skinny, tall, short, well put together or any number of things that we all strive to be. Why don’t we walk up to each other and say, “Girrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl, you got it goin’ on!” Instead we gossip and make snarky comments to anyone who will listen about how we bet she’s starving herself or throwing up… she probably doesn’t have the money to buy that outfit so she charged it and is in debt… that’s not even her hair, it’s a weave… or highlights, or a hair piece. Let me tell you something, the moment I pay for highlights, a weave or a hair piece, technically it’s mine!

Some of you have seen my Facebook post about my hair stylist Freddie and his trusted assistant, Jason.
Freddie and Jason restored a sense of beauty in me that I haven’t felt for a while. Not because I don’t feel valued. Not because I need more attention from my husband. Not because someone was mean to me. Are you ready for this?

BECAUSE I DIDN’T LIKE MY HAIR.

I didn’t even realize that I felt this way until Freddie changed my look. I feel great! What I don’t feel is guilty for spending 2 hours in a salon, away from my children, being pampered by professionals and paying money that I worked hard to earn.

You shouldn’t either!

I have received mostly positive feedback from the picture on FB, but I did have one woman email to say, “Don’t you feel selfish taking all of that time away from your husband and children to have unnecessary things done to your appearance?” Hmmmm…”No. Should I?”

Here’s the deal beauties, I am finding more and more that when I take a little time out to take care of myself, I am a much better wife and mother. Chris and I are a team. He’s not a babysitter, he’s their father. I didn’t turn in my id card when becoming a mother. Did life change? Sure. Is it richer and fuller? Yes. Do I find my identity in my children? No. Plus, when I feel better about myself, I feel sexier for my husband. See how this works? I cannot imagine God saying it’s a bad thing.

People will disagree with me and that’s okay. (Please disagree in the comments and don’t send me an email.) Here is what I believe. God took His time. He created every living thing with such ornate detail. He sculpted the earth. He used color and light. He didn’t throw a blob of black and grey together and say, “It is good.” He created beauty and said, “It is good.”

So for those of you condemning those of us who take delight in highlights, stilettos and red lippy, I say, “Stop acting so religious and go get your hair done! You’ll thank me.”

Don’t underestimate the positive impact of a seemingly small change. AND you don’t even have to have surgery. I’m going to make this super easy for you Atlanta peeps. Here’s Freddie’s card.
I suggest calling to make an appointment. When they answer the phone, they ask, “How may we make your day beautiful?” I love that!