Tag Archives: Perspective

What If…this could change your life?

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I hear this phrase, sometimes several times a day, usually followed by something catastrophic. I can’t help but wonder how these two little words got such a bad rap?

“What if” we shifted our thinking and instead of harping on the negative aspect of “What if?” We dwell in the positive? Instead of this phrase being said in the context of what we might lose, why not use it in the context of what we could gain?

What If…
I stopped focusing on changing the world and instead opened my eyes to the needs right in front of me?

What If…
I stopped complaining long enough to recognize all of the blessings around me. Especially the ones that don’t come neatly wrapped with a beautiful bow?

What If…
I started praying for the person who evokes anger at the mere mention of their name?

What If…
I started looking at the parts of my body I have always unjustly scrutinized and began appreciating their function everyday.

What If…
Instead of marinating in negative self talk (that no one hears but me), I meditated on 4 words, “I Am God’s Masterpiece.”

What If…
I started taking responsibility for how I deliver my words and letting go of how it is received?

What If…
I looked in the mirror every day, completely naked and said (out loud) “I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation!” Psalm 139

What If…
I stopped asking “why” (things are the way they are) and instead asked “how” (am I going to make a positive impact with what I’ve been given?)

What If…
I stopped calling my gossip circle a “prayer group”?

What If…
I asked God what He thinks of me and embraced it, instead of craving the approval of strangers?

What If…
Instead of cluttering our house with more “stuff” we sponsored a family less fortunate than we?

What If…
I didn’t worry?

What If…
I trusted God as much as I say I do?

What If…
I stopped criticizing the people and things that I don’t understand?

What If…
I was fully present in the moment?

What If…
I believed that all scripture was pertinent to my life and stopped focusing only on the verses that made me feel good and promised a happy ending?

What If…
I thought the best before believing the worst?

What If…
I embraced God’s plan for my life instead of blazing my own trail?

What If…
I looked forward to heaven instead of investing so much time and energy into the temporary pleasures of this world?

Are you feelin’ me on this? ‘Cause I could go on and on.

It’s all about transforming the mind. Before we take one step, it starts between our ears. Yes?

Are you a “What If-er”? What’s your biggest “What if” that’s holding you back?

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Hurry up and Wait…

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As I sit in this waiting room of only women, In a sea of blue cotton robes, with the “opening in the front” (of course), I cannot help but look around, observe and judge.

Yes, I said it, JUDGE.

“But I didn’t think Christians were supposed to do that?” you say.

When one becomes a follower of Christ, one does not cease being human.

With each name called that isn’t mine I want to charge up to the front desk and say, “I can’t wait any longer! I have things to do today! (Like sitting around in my pajamas. It’s my day off! My ‘Nobody tell me what to do’ day.)”

Of course I don’t do that, do I?

Nope! This appointment has been on the calendar for 6 months. I’m not just going to walk out now! No way. I’ll show them and stay another hour if I have too!

Wait…what?

My inner monologue is suddenly interrupted by the familiar sound of a chip bag opening. “Oh, I’m so hungry. Why didn’t I bring a snack?!” “Duh, because they are going to weigh me!” (Clearly still deceived by the notion that I will weigh less having not eaten today. I don’t mean a few ounces less, I mean 10 lbs.)

So…here I am…waiting. As I have been for the last 82 minutes.

I can’t tell if the woman beside me has an issue with her jaw or is popping gum. It’s really loud. Really. Loud.

Oh good, now she’s taking a call on her cell. The popping is replaced by her inquiries about dry cleaning and whether or not her dog has been walked and if it had pooped or peed on the walk because, that’s important.  (What part of the sign “NO CELLPHONES” does she not understand?!)

The nurse emerges and calls her back. “Thank the Lord in heaven!” (is my extremely loud thought.)

As I continue an inner monologue about how I would never be as obnoxious as this woman, a word in a conversation to my right catches my attention.

Metastasized.

That’s the word. The one word that snapped me out of my self righteous, internal ranting.

There were 5 ladies, strangers from what I could tell, sharing their stories. For the young woman who had just been diagnosed, she was asking the other woman who had been cancer free since 2009, what to expect.

“What kind of pajamas do they allow in the hospital?”
“Will I lose my hair?”
“How long does chemo take?”
“Does everyone throw up after?”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“What stage was yours?”
“Did you have radiation?”
“Do you drink regular milk or organic?”

The older woman was compassionate in her answers.

I don’t have cancer.

I don’t know the answer to any of her questions. I am here, as I will be every 6 months for the rest of my life because I am “high risk.” Female cancer dominates both sides of my family. I am no stranger to the word metastasized, as that word alone awakens many feelings that have been silent until several months ago when it became a reality again with the news of my beautiful friend, now fighting for her life against a relentless form of ovarian cancer.

I actually made it a priority to schedule my annual appointment with my gyno because of her. He insisted that I have the genetic testing done to see if I carried the cancer gene. He called with the results. All tests were negative. I do not carry the gene.

So why am I sitting here. Why will I spend half of my day off, sitting here with strangers, when I could be with my boys?

Fear?

Prevention?

Is there really a difference between the two?

Regardless, here I am. Waiting…

I’m guessing that the young girl asking all the questions is in the fear stage. I can’t say that for sure and now I’m judging again. (Why am I acting so priggish?!) If anything I should be falling down before the Father in praise several times a day that I emerged from the darkness in which I was living, relatively unscathed.

However, here I sit. Annoyed by the smallest of things. Remember my motto…”Progress not Perfection.” Some days (like today), progress is even a stretch.

The lady beside me takes out her emory board to file her nails. (Insert inner scream here). Noooooooooooo! Forget the sound! What makes her think I want to breathe in her fingernail dust? And there’s no escaping it! Its flying everywhere.

The door opens, here comes the nurse, she’s calling my name.

Clarification: There are few things in this life that I can say with all of the passion I can muster that I detest. Cancer is one of those things. It is a devil of sorts. Often times it is silent in its deadly pursuit until its victim is left ravaged and face to face with death. I am in no way trying to make light of this disease in this post. I am simply giving you, the reader, a glimpse in to my perception, warped as it may be at times. Usually, for me, this all points back to fear. Thankfully I have been given the tools to face it and move on. I feel beyond blessed to only be going in for rechecks. I am on the maintenance plan while many are fighting for their life.

GUEST POST: "DJ & the Trees. A Parable"

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I am thrilled to have a guest post by the beautiful and talented Heather Palacios. I am learning so much from her. Wife to Raul Palacious, a pastor on staff where they attend at Church by the Glades. Not only is she a bright light in this dark world, she is the real deal! I love this post that she had previously written on her own blog, because it reminds me that I am not the one in charge and that God is bigger than anything I am going through.
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There was my boy, DJ, looking up to me on a balcony. 
What I didn’t realize when I took this picture was I also captured the towering palm tree beside him. 
 Little DJ, big tree. 
In a way, that is what we feel like with problems in our lives. 
We feel so small with something we can’t compete against in strength, power and magnitude. DJ couldn’t take this tree any more than I’ve been able to take some of the problems in my life. You too? 
And this is precisely (& simply) why we need God. 
God is bigger than me…& the tree. 
God is bigger than you…& your problem. 
And what we can’t muster up in strength, power & magnitude, He can. 
I pray you know this God, today. So that He can be in your life and over your trees.

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Check out more of Heather’s wisdom, wit and words in writing by visiting her website. Follow her on Twitter and Facebook. You will be a better human being just by knowing her.

It’s not gossip…if it’s a prayer request

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Introduction: I grew up in the south. I am a southern girl through and through. If there is one thing that makes me instantly feel like a child again, it’s the sound of a deep southern draw coming from the mouth of a man or woman, preferably over the age of 50. 

I have listened to conversations throughout my life while sitting in restaurants, beauty salons, the waiting room of a doctor, dentist or chiropractor’s office, my living room, a church pew, on my grandmother’s porch, seasonal socials, anywhere there is a crowd one is sure to “overhear” information that even the person of whom is being spoken, may not even know…yet. 

When writing the following, I could not help but feel a bit like I was betraying my roots. However, after overhearing a conversation in a waiting room the other day that took me back a decade or so, when I was being added to several “prayer lists,” I could not help myself. Names have been changed to avoid any upsets (so if you happen to have the same name as those listed here, you probably think this is about you. It isn’t.)

I love listening to women in conversation, especially southern women. Whether it is their first or third time discussing, it is no less dramatic. Rest assured if they are speaking to someone different about the same situation, a few of the details will have changed and at some point in the conversation, a hand will cover the heart or be strategically placed on the cheeks (as to avoid having to reapply any makeup that may be compromised in the process) while emphasizing their concern and utter disbelief.

Oh and you should know that if the discussion is prefaced by the words, “We need to pray for…” or anything that alludes to a prayer request, it is not considered gossip. 

From time to time I will include in my writings, many of the different sayings we use down here in Dixie. For those of you who have never experienced an actual conversation, it looks something like this…

Let’s imagine the setting as the produce section of the supermarket.

Southern Belle #1: “Well, Hey There! What are you doin’ here this time a day?” 

Southern Belle #2: “Hey! I’m just pickin’ up some last minute things on my way home from choir practice.“

Southern Belle #1: “Oh. Well, did you hear? Betty’s daughter, Mary Beth, didn’t get in to Ole Miss.”

Southern Belle #2: “WHAT?! You’re kidding! How will she ever find a husband? Not to mention, Betty’s sorority legacy where she, her mother and her mother’s mother all pledged and were members, will come to an end?! Such a shame. Bless ‘er heart! Is she devastated?!“

Southern Belle #1: “Well, what do you expect?! Of course she’s devastated! She says she’s fine, but I know better. She’s humiliated. To make matters worse, I think Mary Beth is sleepin’ with her boyfriend.”

Southern Belle #2: “Who is he? What does his daddy do?“

Southern Belle #1: “Nobody evens knows?! Can you believe that?!”

Southern Belle #2: “Bless. Her. Heart. It’s worse than I thought. I will add her to the Sunday school prayer list THIS week.“

Southern Belle #1: “Oh honey, don’t bother. I just updated my status with all the details, on “The Facebook” under “Urgent Prayer Request.”

Southern Belle #2: “Perfect! Did you attach me somehow so that all of my friends will read it and be praying?“

Southern Belle #1: “Now you know I don’t know how to do that! You can just look at what I wrote and copy it word for word. Back to the crisis at hand, do you want to take a casserole over to Betty’s house tomorrow afternoon? She is probably too upset to cook and you know Hugh will expect dinner on the table at 6:30 sharp!“

Southern Belle #2: “I was just thinking the same thing! I’ll bake some of mama’s famous pound cake. We won’t count calories at a time like this. The bourbon glaze alone should help all our moods.“

(Insert courtesy laughs.)

Southern Belle #1: “See you at 6:00 then. Don’t be late! Byyyyyyy now.“

Egomaniac with an Inferiority Complex

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Ever feel like you’re walking around inside out? Like people can see, not who, but what you are?

Or that you have a neon word glowing above your head?

I do.

For me, it could be any number of things over the years… alcoholic, people pleaser, bulimic, liar, gossiper, faker, cheater, doubter, wounded, hypocrite, quitter…the list is lengthy and it only gets worse.

What’s your word?

Did you immediately think of something negative?

Why do I turn into a “Nancy negative” (no offense Nancy) when it comes to self-awareness checks?

Is it because I’m humble? Hardly!

It’s because my ego gets the better of me and I begin comparing my insides to your outsides. I become fixated on the past, instead of focused on the future, while living in the present.

Humor me for a minute and let’s go another route.

What if, when I went out into the world, I walked around with a different list of words adorning my head? Words like…Believer, Redeemed, Recovered, Loved, Forgiven, Cherished, Treasured, Saved, Blessed, Beautiful, Capable, Wanted, Free, Worthy, Accepted…as I wrote these words, I read them out loud. It is amazing the tone, the energy, the transformation of thought from one paragraph to another simply by changing a few words.

Ladies, we are the worst about this. Be careful what you are speaking into the hearts and minds of your daughters, friends and more importantly, yourself.

May I encourage you to try a little experiment with me? Come on! It will be so fun!

Take a dry erase marker (or lippy, whatever works), stand in front of the mirror where you get ready every morning, and in the space (on the mirror) above your head, choose one word of affirmation.

Write the word on your mirror so that when you look at your reflection you will see truth.

I call it, “Affirmation in Action.”

My word right now is “Redeemed.”

I begin my day with that word in my heart and on my mind. I don’t give the lies a chance to one up me.

There is power in our words. Even those never spoken, but that we allow to take up residence between our ears.

If you’re walking around all day with a head full of negative self-talk, stop it.
No really…STOP! You are going against your purpose, everything that you were designed to be. You are deeming yourself spiritually useless.

Harsh? Yes.

I speak from a position of repeat offender when it comes to bashing myself. What I am encouraging you to do, I am doing myself. Work in progress, remember. I don’t have all the answers, I am just very persistent.

It begins from within.

What’s inside you can either tear down and infect those around you with the poison of darkness. Or it can shine, igniting the light in others that is within us all. For some of us only a spark remains, while for others a fire rages.

Here is my promise to you…for the next 7 days, I am going to pray for you. I would LOVE it if you would tell me your word in the comment section below. However, even if you don’t, God knows your word and more importantly, He knows your name.

The future is very bright!

Now…

What’s your word?

 

Let go…or be dragged

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While you’re reading this sentence, I want you to ball your hands into the tightest fist you can make. Come on, squeeze until your nails dig into your skin and your knuckles turn white.

Now…open your hands. Stretch them as wide as they will go. Ahhhhhh. Release.

Do you see the fingernail marks in your palms? Run your finger over the shallow indention that will soon fade.

Are there things in your life showing evidence of a struggle by the indention’s that your fingernails left behind?

For me to think that there was any other way to believe that I could hold on to what was mine without digging my fingernails in, was going to take a complete transformation of the mind.

This is exactly what is happening. It has been a slow, but steady process.

Have you ever seen a child hold a piece of candy that they were afraid was going to be taken from them? Especially chocolate. The tighter they squeeze, the more misshapen it becomes. At times even melting under the force and heat of their little hand.

What’s left?

A mess.

When I have tried to pry open the little fingers of my child when they are locked onto something they want, not only does the mess get all over their hand, but it gets on mine as well. The worst place being under the nails where it is so difficult to remove.

Why am I telling you this?

Well, I hope you can relate.

I have had to physically open my palms to the Father many times this week while in conversation with certain people who are making decisions in my daughter’s life.

I have prayed, “Lord, if necessary, bring out your spiritual crowbar and release my grip on this situation. Father the harder I hold on, the worse the outcome. The more I squeeze, the greater intensity of pain. Help me, please. I don’t know how to hold my child with an outstretched arm and open palm.”

God has been so patient with me.

I should know by now that He doesn’t use a crowbar. He doesn’t use force. For if He did, I would be resentful. These are the times when He is very still and beckons my heart to meet Him in the quiet places (which are few and far between in my house).

He whispers to my heart, “Don’t you know she was Mine to begin with? Don’t you know that she is Mine still?”

“Yes, Father. But…What if…”

“What if, you trusted Me the way you tell others to trust Me? What if, you truly believed that I want the very best for your life and your child’s life. And though that doesn’t always mean comfort and happiness, you can rest in the assurance that you are greatly loved and adored by your Father in Heaven. What if, when you were afraid, you sought Me instead of relief through external methods? What if, every time you think of one of your children, you give them back to Me, once more, leaving the pen in My hand to write the chapters of their story? What if, you commit My words to memory so that when doubt floods in, it is absorbed by My truth and replaced with My peace that passes all understanding?”

This is how the Father speaks to my heart. This is the way he gently opens my fists tightly clenched in fear until my palms face the Heavens with fingers stretched as wide as they will go.

Then and only then, can He pour out His goodness, mercy and love. And there is enough that when it spills through my fingers, those around me benefit.

Bella, my Bella, belongs to God. Chris and I have worked tirelessly to lay the foundation and instill truth in her heart and mind. Our responsibility now, is to reiterate what she already knows. It is to combat lies with truth. It is to encourage, nurture and provide a safe place for daunting questions.

When I close my eyes and pray for my girl, I see the 5 year old explorer/princess/rock star. I see overalls and pig tails…I see somersaults on the grass and make believe castles in the trees.

I see more potential, beauty and promise than she will ever see. Isn’t that what we do as mothers though? We dream BIG for our girls and attempt to stifle the urge to project ourselves onto them while intercepting those who would cause them to believe that they are anything less than a child of The King.

Here’s the deal, I have to let go.

I must open my fingers and release the fist. I do not want my beautiful girl to have nail marks of any kind on her spirit, especially mine.

So when fear consumes my mind with thoughts of losing the control that I never had to begin with, my heart will respond with Ephesians 3:20-21“God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.“

What is beneath your fingers tightly clenched into a fist? What or who are you holding on to so tightly that they can barely breathe? Let go. The longer you struggle, the messier it gets.

Let go. Or be dragged.

GUEST POST: "Churchspeak: A Field Guide"

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Today’s guest post comes from the beautiful and talented Tamara Lunardo. She’s the real deal folks and a big reason why I started a blog and have put myself out there even when it’s uncomfortable. Visit her blog and stay a while. You’ll be glad you did! ~ Joy
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I was fellowshipping with Suzy, when she really ministered to me by sharing her testimony about getting in the Word. I felt so convicted that I asked her to shepherd and disciple me, and right away she began to love on me. It was totally a God thing.

If you read that without gagging, congratulations– you are officially churched and need read on no further. If you trudged blindly through all that cheese and still stuck around to see where I was going, your patience is about to be rewarded. I present to you Churchspeak: A Field Guide. Because sometimes, what we say gets in the way of what we mean. And we really do want you to come join our flock. (Oh, oops.)

“A God thing”: Used to explain events almost exclusively when they end in our favor and often when they are frivolous beyond justification. E.g., the availability of a designer handbag may well be “a God thing,” but acquiring jock itch is undoubtedly not.

Convict, -ed, -ing, v., adj.: The churchy version of an “oh shit” moment, this Courtroom Christianity term lets us know we’ve been dead wrong deep in the depths of our souls. We often get unreasonably happy when this happens, sometimes because we’re gluttons for guilt (not gonna call out any denominations here– you know who you are), but usually because it means our sleepy little hearts are finally snapping to attention.

Disciple, v.: Just when you thought “disciple” was a guy in sandals catching fish (Or is that “apostle?” You can never be too sure with all these poly alias Jesus followers.), we go and verb it up. So let’s break it back down: If a “disciple” is one who learns, then his teacher “disciples” him. See that? You just got discipled.

Fellowship, n., v.: We like to hang out with our friends, too, but we like to make it sound holy. If you and your church pals want to knock back a few at your neighborhood pub, just call it “fellowshipping.” Ain’t no one gonna judge.

“In the Word”: We don’t just read the Bible, we get right on in there. You should probably be super impressed.

“Love on”: Don’t be alarmed by the extraneous preposition tacked on the end– no one is trying to get all up in your business. This phrase simply employs the same redundancy as “where it’s at” to emphasize the point. We just really, really love you.

Minister, v.: Not everyone can go to seminary, but we can wax pastoral anyway. We won’t just help you out– we’ll minister to you, even without the little white collar.

Testimony, n.: Another nugget of Courtroom Christianity. Sure, we could just “tell what happened,” but where’s the drama in that? Stories are much more attention-getting when they’re called “testimonies.” I will testify that this is a true fact.

Shepherd, v.: Nothing says mini-Christ (or Little Bo Peep) like a person who shepherds. We could guide you, but then you wouldn’t have the fun and frolic of feeling like a little lamb. You’re welcome.

Churchy folks– What terms of churchspeak did I miss? Non-churchy folks– Have you ever been weirded out by churchspeak?

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Tamara                   http://tamaraoutloud.com/

Tamara works out her thoughts on life and faith at the blog Tamara Out Loud, occasionally with adult language, frequently with attempted humor, and hopefully with God’s blessing.

Reprinted with permission from TamaraOutLoud.