Lessons From My 20s: Encouragement Lasts

Here I am with Jady. My biggest encourager.

I used to blow encouragements off. I hated when everyone went around & encouraged each other. It seemed so insincere. Of course, they are saying something nice. You are making them say something to me. I didn't listen to what people said. Or I thought I didn't.

I listened when it was close friends or family. I'm thankful that my family encourages me pretty much every day. They say the sweetest things & I am beyond blessed by their words. Over the past few years there have been some hard places personally. Suddenly I found myself getting hungry for someone, anyone, to tell me something they see in me. I was dying for encouragement. 

 I have learned that what people say really does matter. Their words wedge themselves into my mind & I recall them when I need some wind in my sails. Encouragement isn't sappy, it is powerful. It charges my spirit and reminds me that what I am doing & who I am matters. I matter. 

Here are three of my favorite encouragements I have ever gotten:

"You are a queen among women & of admirable conversation." - a member of a short term team I led.

"You are lionhearted. I can see it in you." - Ben Loring

"Joan of Arc. Something about you reminds me of Joan of Arc. Your passion could rally armies." - a girl in my dorm freshman year.

These aren't people super close to me. But I remember their words. It reminds me that what I say matters. Even when I think people aren't listening to what I am saying, my encouragements plant themselves in their hearts. 

I've learned that encouragement isn't some flowery, feel-good thing. It gives power to people. Encouragement matters. 

Lessons From My 20s: I Need To Laugh Every Day

These two keep me laughing.

I think we all know that laughing is good. Life gets stressful and sometimes you just need a bit of comedy. Not only is it fun to laugh, but it has tons of health benefits. I'm not going to go into all of that. Google it if you want to know all the health advantages.

Often at the end of the day I realize that I am way too serious and wound up. So, I do something that makes me laugh. It lightens my load and gives me some perspective back. 

I thought I would share with you some of my favorite 'go to' videos for when I need some comic relief. Enjoy & please let me know your favorites. I'd can always use more you tube videos.

My Name Is John Daker

Beautiful Nail

Grape Lady Falls

Brian Reagan - UPS

Lessons From My 20s: People Aren't Statistics & Their Lives Aren't Data

I am 16 days into my Lesson's From My 20s series. Whew! Are you tired yet? Today's lesson is : People Aren't Statistics & Their Lives Aren't Data.



My dad in Indonesia with an emergency relief team after the Tsunami in 2004



I was 23 when the Tsunami struck in 2004. The news was flooded with images of destruction and grieving people. Too many to take in. I remember seeing so many faces and looking at one homeless family after another. Another child who lost their parents. Another parent who lost a child. They start to simply feel like numbers. Somewhere along the way they became a news cycle and not a life.

We are an information culture. Percentages & statistics invade ever aspect of our lives. Toothpaste commercials even tell us what percentage of dentists recommend their product. Facts. Figures. Numbers everywhere. Numbers that eventually become numbing.

The people the numbers represent begin to become irrelevant.

* Every day 1,000 babies are born with the HIV virus.

* 300,000 children right now are forced to fight as child soldiers in armed conflicts

* 43% of marriages will end in divorce or separation in the first 15 years

* In the United States 9% of people are unemployed

* Approx. 250,000 babies are born each day...

Life becomes a fact. People become a demographic. It is hard to see people as people. Lives as stories. I have learned that I have to fight to see the one among the masses. I have to stop, look someone in the eyes and ask what they have seen. The 300,000 child soldiers are 300,000 individual kids with hearts that long for hope. The 43% of couples who divorce are individual people who fell in love and something went off track resulting in heartbreak. Every person has a story. Each story matters.

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Lessons From My 20s: I Can Plan A Wedding For A Stranger

Today's lesson from my 20s is more of a memory...It's about the time I planned a wedding for a stranger in South Africa in a matter of hours. Enjoy.

Here is a pic from my wedding. I spend more than an afternoon planning it.

 When I was a junior in college I went to South Africa. One of the small groups in our church was taking a mission trip. These were families with little kids, so Jady (who I was engaged to at the time), Stephanie Johnson Koegh and I went along as childcare workers. 

We stayed at this lovely country house outside of Cape Town.  The owner was a very strange man. Stephanie and I woke up several times in the middle of the night to the guy blowing his shofar on the hillside. He told me he was calling down fire on the mountainside. I told him he was waking me up. The host was nice, but very strange. We will call him 'Tim'. Tim had a wife and a few kids. 

One of the days we were there Tim's friends came to visit. The girl, who we shall call Nancy, had been friends of Tim & his wife for years. Nancy & her fiance 'Will' were getting married a few weeks later but were stopping by to see Tim's family since they weren't going to be able to go to their wedding.

During team meeting that morning we find out that Will wanted to surprise Nancy with a wedding here at the farm. Will said that Nancy had been really sad about Tim's family being unable to attend their wedding in a few weeks. So he decided to solve that by getting married at Tim's farm. Today. And he wanted our team to make it happen. Right. Or maybe that's a horrible idea? We were all trying to convince Will & Tim that surprising Nancy with a wedding isn't going to go over well. The girl has a real wedding - the kind with guests, a dress, cake, a photographer- in two weeks. 

Well, Will & Tim wouldn't listen. They insisted that Nancy & Will get married that day. Gulp. Fine. Fine. We can plan a wedding. Immediately we broke into teams. 

Our leader was an ordained minister. That's good when having a wedding. 

Another lady had take photography classes so she was the photographer.

Jady could play the guitar. He was the musician.

The children were the flower kids.

Some ladies had done a dance at a women's conference a few months prior...so they would perform.

...and then came my part. 

I had the honor of being the one to get her ready. I haven't ever had a conversation with this person & yet I have to get her ready for a wedding without her knowing that is whats going on...this wasn't in our mission trip prep meeting. 

Steph went into a field to collect flowers & came back with some impressive arrangements. Then she helped me trick this poor unknowing woman. We came up with some story about how we would love to give them a gift for their upcoming wedding. A photographer on our team is going to take bridal portraits as a present & we are going to do your hair and makeup! 

I suggested she take a bath. Not only should you take a bath, but make sure to shave your legs. I am not sure if you have ever told a strange lady in South Africa that she should take a bath & shave her legs. It is awkward. Nancy didn't feel like it. No, no. I insist. You really should shave your legs. I couldn't have this lady going on her surprise honeymoon with hairy legs. Its just not right. 

Brace yourself. It gets worse. While Nancy is bathing, Will & Tim come in to the front yard where we are trying to throw the quickly approaching wedding with some news. Well, this is a really big day. Nancy is about to get married & she isn't going to have any friends or family here. It might be a bit difficult for her. Yes! Yes! We already told you that. Just wait for 14 days and her friends & family will be there. At her actual wedding. That she planned. So, we would like for you all to find a meaningful gift to give her as a wedding present. Something that is really significant. Grrr...You must be kidding.

So now we are all scurrying trying to find a gift. Trolling the farm & staring at our sparse suitcases we eventually each found something to give her. Not sure if they were meaningful, but she did get gifts. Back to Nancy. She had gotten out of the shower. Stephanie & I were doing her makeup and fixing her hair. Then the other ladies came in with some old boxy white dress they had found somewhere & a curtain from the guest room that was white lace. 

A handful of us women worked some magic & Nancy actually looked like a lovely bride. The rest of the team was gathered out in the front yard finishing up lighting the candles so I could bring Nancy out. She wanted to go ahead and leave the room to go into the kitchen.  I said the photographer was trying to find the best light and we needed to stay inside to wait for her. No, no. We can't go out with the photographer. I think this old dress you are wearing is an heirloom. We want to minimize the sunlight and dirt that is going to get on it. We need to wait until she is ready. More lip gloss?

I had to keep her in the room for 10 more minutes. She must have thought I was a loon. How do you make small talk with a stranger who doesn't know that you are about to take her to her secret wedding? Finally the time came. I walked her to the patio & then stopped at the door. Tim wanted me to tell her what was happening before I opened the door & the music started. That is the kind of news you want to hear from a stranger.

I know you must have noticed that I have been acting pretty weird these past few hours. Well, the surprise isn't bridal portraits. You are actually getting married! Tim & Will thought it was a great idea and so our group of Americans set up a wedding. On the other side of this door is the aisle and everyone is waiting out there. What do you think? Then I smiled really big to make her think that I thought this was the best idea ever.

Nancy was overjoyed. To her it was the most romantic thing ever. Tim & Will were right. Nancy loved it. I walked her to the isle. Kids who she didn't know threw flowers. A guy on a guitar sang some songs. Two women she never met danced to a song she had never heard. Than a pastor she didn't know married her. 

We had a reception of little sweets. Opened our unusual wedding gifts we put together & sent them off on their honeymoon. Which was a broke-down camper that was parked in the back yard. Two weeks later they had their regularly scheduled wedding. If I remember correctly, they didn't tell their parents or friends about the first one. 

My lesson I learned is that love and romance can look so many ways. It was an odd wedding. Martha Stewart would never have featured it in her magazine & people wouldn't have pinned it on Pinterest.  It was simple and as basic as you could get, but it was beautiful. We celebrated God. We celebrated love. I shared a meaningful moment with a lady I will never see again. Love is beautiful no matter how it comes.

Lessons From My 20s: My Heart Needs Regular Editing

In December I turn 30. November is a reflection of lessons I have learned in the past decade. Today's lesson: My Heart Needs Regular Editing.

Some things just need to be thrown out. Like this unicorn.

In the past decade I have moved 13 times. Sadly, I am the quickest packer you have ever met. With every box I pack I end up doing an inventory of the things I own. It is incredible the amount of things you can accumulate over time. 

The good thing about moving so much I that I am forced to sift through all my belongings and get rid of the trash. I have learned that I need to do the same with my heart.

I carry around so much stuff internally. Some stuff is great & I need to hold onto it for the rest of my life. Memories, promises from God, dreams...good stuff. I need to make sure that it isn't lost in the shuffle. The valuable things need to handled with care. They should be displayed in a prominent place, reminding me that such valuable things are in my possession. 

When I pack up I come across other things that are great, but I don't need them anymore. Things I don't use, but are still useful. I give them away.  I should do that with things I carry internally too. I can be a pack rat with ideas, insight, and  dreams that aren't mine to fulfill...I hold on to them as things I want to do. It might fit someone else better than it fits me...but I don't want to give it up. I like to hoard. The only problem is that my heart starts to get cluttered. I can be confused about what I should give my time & energy to. When I start feeling that way, I know I need to give some things up and let others run with them.

For every box I pack it seems that I fill up a trash bag (or recycle box) full of trash that I have collected. Random stuff that just takes up space. Just 'stuff'. My heart gets full of 'stuff' too. I can fill internally busy and anxious when random things begin to clutter. I get irritated that my view is blocked and my focus is distracted by all the 'things'. I gotta get the clutter out of my heart.

I need to edit what is inside. Get rid of the things that are trash. Get rid of the things that are just taking up space and weighing me down. Most of all, I need to remember the treasures that my heart holds. The people I love, the dreams I am called to and the promises of God that I hold on to. My heart needs editing or I loose my vision.

Lessons From My 20s: No Beats Here

Another Lesson From My 20s: No Beats Here.

My 2 year old son has some serious skills.

It pains me to admit this. When I turned 20 I lived in deep, dark deception. I actually thought that I had rhythm. I would hop in the middle of the dance floor with the best of them. A smug self assured look on my face as I danced my jig. 

Why my friends didn't tell me that I wasn't impressing with 'Footloose' level skills, I will never know. This past decade has revealed that music & dancing are not my talents. I can clap on beat. And if you use the term 'sing on key' loosely, then I can do that too.

I used to think I was a good singer. You know those people on American Idol who think they are rock stars & aren't? I'm not that bad, but I can relate. In my defense, I made it in 3 choirs that I had to audition for. So, I had some reason for thinking I could sing. Ugh. Its a pity. I have such strong stage presence...

In my 20s I have attended more weddings than I can remember and participated in dance parties of all kinds. Progressively I discovered the truth about my dance skills. The coordination level hit its peak at 18 I guess. My dancing has just gone down hill since. 

My husband is a drummer. A good drummer. And he can sing. And he can dance. He can dance really well actually. I will have to live vicariously through him if I want to be terrific at it.

Don't worry. I still bust out my moves and sing my songs. Just not in the middle of the dance floor or at the top of my lungs anymore. Lesson learned. It's not my gig. 

Lessons From My 20s: I Am An English Cottage In The Middle Of Manhattan.

I turn 30 in December. Each day of November I am sharing a lesson I learned in my 20s. Today's Lesson: I Am An English Cottage in Manhattan.

My in-laws have my kids this morning, so I am writing from a bustling coffee shop. But I am not just anywhere in this coffee shop. I am tucked away in a tiny corner. Cramped but cozy. Slightly isolated but happily enjoying the energy passing in front of me as conversations happen and people filter through. It is my favorite kind of thing. Some of you don't know me very well. Here is an insight into me. How I work and live.

When I was in elementary school I used to want to be a rancher. Then I wanted to be Amish. Really.  I even learned to quilt. Go ahead, you can laugh. But something about the tradition and rustic quality was attractive to me. It was romantic in a sort of way. 

Then in high school & college I wanted to be in the busiest places possible. I loved living in my dorm. Hundreds of girls chatting, swapping clothes and having impromptu dance parties. Anything could happen at any moment. I would travel and sit in London and watch a flow of people pushing and edging their way though the crowds. I loved it. I felt so at home amidst the surging chaos.

In my twenties I found the balance of the two. I love charm and history. Things that are deeply meaningful and personal. A refuge of familiar and significant. A withdrawn place like a cottage. 

I also love busy. Faces flowing whose stories I will never know, but ever ponder. Activities pounding the streets I walk through. An aggressive energy that pushes and advances. I like it. In fact, I am the person riding the subway who isn't smiling or talking to the person next to me. And that doesn't bother me. 

I come out 50/50 on the introvert & extrovert tests. I am right on the line. The balance of it confused me for a while, but I am a bit more self aware now.

Internally I love the cozy and warm spaces. Deep friendships which are represented by the photos on the mantel. I enjoy my wild looking garden and the ivy that tucks me in and hides me away. I myself am an English cottage.

But I don't want to be built in the country. I want to be built on a lot in downtown. Crammed in with cars, small shops and towering apartments. A charming pause in the middle of fury. That is where I like to be.