Thank you for being a part of A Voice in the Noise in 2015. It has been a year of finding my voice and God opening doors I never expected to walk through when this year began. I am so grateful for each and every person who has prayed for me, given me space to write, read my words, and encouraged me when it felt too hard. I am forever in your debt! I can't wait to see what 2016 holds! Here's a little peek into the most read posts of this year and the ones I loved writing, a glimpse into why I wrote them and what they meant to me...
"Maybe my daring moves seem small to you but to me, they mean obedience in the face of great fear, and that feels pretty dangerous."
I wrote this piece when I was getting up the courage to submit a story to SheLoves Magazine, a community I loved to be a part of but wasn't sure I had a place in as a writer. God has allowed me to write for SheLoves four times in 2015.
"God is bringing the nations to us, and I believe so many of our local congregations are missing it."
I wrote this as an entry to a writing contest and later posted it on my blog before the refugee crisis of 2015 became news. I pray that someone somewhere reads it and is challenged to let their fences down. I am so blessed to have a window into the vibrant, beautiful refugee community of America that has so much to teach us, if we will just listen.
"My attitude is brimming with harshness, bitterness. I spew hideous words directed at someone God loves dearly, tearing her down. I can be downright hateful…To myself."
My first full series, The F-Word resonated with more people than I expected. The funny thing about our feelings of failure and shame are that they isolate us, making us think we are the only ones who feel this way. It was a beautiful experience writing about this for a month and allowing God to teach and heal me so much in 2015, to also see others come alongside me and say, "Me, too!"
"In the time I was an explorer I saw God in places I never dreamed to find Him."
I was fortunate to be on the launch team for Sarah Bessey's 2015 book Out of Sorts. I wrote this in response to the themes of wandering and evolving faith in the book, specifically about the time in my life when I walked away from the church and God only to find God in so many places, people, and denominations where I never expected to find Him. I have come to embrace that time in my life, not as something to be ashamed of and run from, but as a time that shaped my faith in deeper ways than ever before.
"I’ve seen it so many times before and it frightens me for the state of my heart. I can sit glued to the news when a disaster strikes, pray fervently for dire circumstances, and feel moved by someone’s plight. Then, I can turn away and forget just as easily, wrapped up in my own daily worries."
One of the things I set out to do in 2015 putting my words on A Voice in the Noise was to highlight needs around the world and help people to pray for what God is doing outside of the American church. This short piece I wrote as a blogger for Gospel for Asia was shared over 500 times as people were inspired to pray for those suffering after the earthquakes in Nepal. This story hit home as one of my best friends lived in Nepal at the time and my heart broke for her family, but it was so easy to get caught up in daily life and forget their needs. I guess others really identified with that tension as well.
This was the hardest piece for me to write this year, interspersing the history of a rich faith tradition with current events in the land that I love so much, as well as my own experiences in the Coptic Church. It felt like a rending of my spirit as I wrote it, but I was so pleased when it was done and that Her.meneutics ran it. I had a couple radio interviews come out of this piece and got to share even more about a place and people that is so dear to me. This was one of those "that is why I do this" moments, being able to share a piece of my life that I feel so fortunate for having experienced.
This story holds a special place in my heart. It is another that I began writing seven years ago and that I just had a deep need to share. It is about a change in my heart that was so hard won, a time in my life I am so grateful for. It is about my best friend and all she has taught me, continues to teach me. I was so happy that this was my first piece published outside of my own blog and my first experience struggling through edits, seeing a story transformed into something so much more beautiful for having worked with an incredible editor, Heather Caliri. The Mudroom has become a place that I love dearly online, read every single post and am proud to be on the support staff for as 2015 comes to a close!
On that day the announcement to Jerusalem will be,
“Cheer up, Zion! Don’t be afraid!
For the Lord your God is living among you.
He is a mighty savior.
He will take delight in you with gladness.
With his love, he will calm all your fears.
He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."-Zephaniah 3:16-17
The waiting for my first child seemed to stretch on forever as it was a week past my due date before labor pains began. After laboring all day, I sat in the hospital expecting to be told she would come soon only to be told I needed to wait and walk some more. Each step felt like it made the pain start anew and the end felt nowhere in sight. Even two hours into pushing, my little diva still took her precious time as we found out she was face up, having a hard time coming into the world.
Struggle and joy are never so intertwined as in those moments of labor, when you speak those words and mean them - "I can't do this anymore!" You truly feel like there is not another ounce of strength in you, even though you know the reward is near.
I cried those words and wanted to give up, even after nine months of waiting. Even after hours of labor and pushing. One more anguished push and I couldn't even understand what was happening when this squirming little body was placed on top of mine. I didn't even realize she had arrived until my mouth was gaping open, tears streaming down my face as I held her to my body. Outside my body. In my arms. How did this happen?
There would be time for celebrating, for announcements and laughter, for photos. Oh, so many photos.
But in those moments, there was nothing but me and her. All of my waiting and working had finally come to an end, even after I had stopped believing it was possible. There were only those dark eyes looking into mine, looking like mine. Nothing else mattered. My dream was living and breathing, in my arms.
I have always read the Old Testament prophecies about Christ from the perspective of one who knows they have been fulfilled, like the mother who already holds her newborn. I haven't really felt the waiting in the words, the pain and struggle the people of God must have felt as they waited for the One to come who would change their lives.
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'The day will come', says the Lord 'when I will do for Israel and Judah all the good things I have promised them. In those days and at that time I will raise up a righteous descendant from King David’s line. He will do what is just and right throughout the land. In that day Judah will be saved, and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this will be its name: ‘The Lord Is Our Righteousness.’ - Jeremiah 33.14-15
When I found myself expecting my first child, I was twenty-seven years old but nothing made me feel more unprepared and like a child myself than knowing what lie ahead. No one stops to learn how to be a mother, to care for another human being and all that entails, until they themselves are preparing to have a child. And nothing makes you feel as utterly inadequate as knowing the responsibility that you now carry.
The two blue lines barely had time to appear on that little white stick before I started reading books about pregnancy, birth, and caring for a baby. I suddenly knew how much preparation was needed. I didn't only need a crib and a car seat, diapers and a thousand other gadgets and tools to take care of a child. I also needed the knowledge that mothers before me, doctors, and friends had to offer.
That firstborn of mine now stands next to me, hanging the sparkling silver angel that was her first ornament on the seventh Christmas tree of her little life. All the rush and hurry of this season is upon us again. I look into her sweet blue eyes that still see the magic of all the lights and songs. I want to create with her traditions that speak also of the expectation that should come with this season before us.
Advent, the season beginning four Sundays before Christmas, means "to come" in Latin and its essence, to me, is reminiscent of that very expectation that I felt as a mother-to-be.
Shouldn't it be so? Mary found herself still a child, unprepared and unexpecting when she carried both a great weight and the very One who frees us from every burden. Continue Reading
November blindsided me with its arrival this year. I know everyone says the years go by faster the older you get, but this year has rushed by with startling speed.
By the beginning of November I usually have the kids gather up some of the many branches that have fallen from the sturdy trees in our back yard. We string paper leaves from the branches placed in a vase and take stolen moments around the dinner table to jot down our thanks, to stop in all the hurry and be grateful.
The rain came in sheets this year. Busyness surrounded us, keeping us from our usual project as the month began. As the days passed and our little centerpiece wasn’t in place, I felt the chance to be intentional slipping away.
My heart skipped a beat when I realized a vacation planned in the middle of the month, along with a busy season at work and writing deadlines mean that Thanksgiving would come and go and then Advent would be upon us.
Advent. By definition this season is an expectant waiting and preparation for the coming of Jesus. I close my eyes when I think of the word Advent and picture candles lit, ornaments hung, carols sung. I think of a peaceful expectancy, a stirring in your heart that says something wonderful is on the way.
I open my eyes and the image disappears, replaced by parties marked on calendars, shopping lists and presents to wrap. This season that leads up to the celebration of Jesus’ arrival on earth has become for me, as I suspect for most of us, anything but waiting...
This week I start my December focus on Advent over at The Mudroom. Join me there?
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