May

Friday Night Ramblings

It’s 7:07 on a Friday night.

I should be at the gym. Or hitting the town. Or out exploring and having some sort of adventure that will make everyone insanely jealous. Isn’t that what all the cool kids do?

Instead, I’m slaying on my stomach in my gym clothes, clean laundry in piles, dirty laundry…not quite so orderly. My hair is perfect but that’s only because someone was smart and invented a fake sock-bun device for those of us not quite talented or clever enough to use a sock.

My life is messy.

I tell people that life is like one giant exclamation mark right now and it’s true. But at this moment, it’s rainy outside and any motivation I had when I put on my gym clothes is rapidly being eaten away by the desire to make like a cat and curl up by my little fake fireplace and read a book.

But if I’m realistic, that won’t happen.

I have to clean the bathroom because in a few hours, I’m picking people up from the airport and it’s kind of gross to have a guests over and have a dirty bathroom. It’s not like you can blame the mess on anyone else.

So why am I writing this? Because I think sometimes, people need a reminder that bloggers are real. And messy. And wonderfully flawed and human.

In the age of social sharing, it’s easy to carefully construct an image of myself that isn’t reality. Social media can be personal PR and marketing all rolled up into one. I’ve had people come up and tell me things about myself that they believe to be fact that simply aren’t true. People ask me where I’m living or what I’m up to or who I’m dating or is it true that I want to be a career woman and by the way, what political affiliation do you have? Everyone has guesses and assumptions based on social media.

Sometimes I just smile. Other times, I cringe.

Tonight, as I lay in my very messy room, thinking about excuses why not to go to the gym, I decided to be real.

Life isn’t about being perfect. It’s about making mistakes, discovering grace, and finding beauty. It’s not about filters or followers. It’s about choosing forgiveness when you get punched in the gut. It’s not all about parties, it’s about crying with your best friend when her mariage is falling apart. Being there. Being Jesus in skin even when you don’t have the foggiest idea how.

It’s not about having all the answers because good gravy, it always scares me when someone tells me that they do. It’s about finding out that God is more than formulas and faint feelings, something much more muchy and real than all of those things, and feeling horrible when people use his name not only as a swear word but as an endorsement for all sorts of things that they really have no business to.

Life is about learning to walk again after you’ve fallen. About looking at your scars and not seeing a mistake but seeing a fingerprint of grace.

There’s so much more to life than the centimeter thin world we weave out of pixels. Problems come when we replace relationships with ideas and images. Flesh and blood teach more than pixels and paper.

Last week, I went downtown with my sister and her husband. We were doing the 20something thing of small plates and wandering down trendy streets. L took a picture of me and put it online.

It wasn’t flattering.

When I looked at it, I didn’t see someone who was enjoying being out with her loved ones. Instead, I saw the remnants of acne scars, thick eyebrows, and shoulders that were just a little too large.

She asked me if I wanted her to take it down.

I wanted to say yes but instead I said no.

It wasn’t flattering but it was real life.

Real life.

Not photoshopped. Not filtered. The kind of every day existence where beauty and friendship is found. The moments that you read about in books and see stylized in magazines. The kind of slices of time where you are once again reminded that beauty comes from within, not from a filter.

Life is to be cherished, friends. All of it.

5 days ago Short URL 3 Comments

Uncategorized

Apr

Embrace The Adventure

This.

Today and every day.

There’s so much of life that is meant to be embraced with arms flung wide open. There are too many opportunities missed because we shirk away from difficulty instead of saying, “Game on!”

Live your dream. Do the work that it demands. Don’t be afraid of the messy parts because life is messy. Time will pass so you might as well do the things that take time. They are often the most rewarding endeavors.

Recently, I became a full time freelance writer. I was going to announce it on my blog but I waited, knowing that the story wasn’t over yet. I wanted to tell you when I registered my start-up. I wanted to tell you when I agreed to speak at a writer’s conference. I wanted to tell you when I accepted another position.

Friends, there have been so many things I’ve wanted to tell you.

Life has been full of exclamation points. The year isn’t half over and there have already been a few chapters of milestones with more to come.

I can’t wait to share the adventure with you. To tell you more about the start-up as it takes off (look for a Kickstarter soon!). To start spilling stories from all over. To introduce to you people who are living vibrant adventures.

It’s going to be awesome.

But today, a reminder.

Even though it’s Monday and it feels like a punch in the face sometimes…

Life is an incredible gift.

23 days ago Short URL 2 Comments

Adventure

adventure/writing

Mar

When Adventure Doesn’t Follow My Lead

Cannon Beach Wanderings

Live, travel, adventure, bless, and don’t be sorry. – Jack Kerouac

The siren song of adventure led me to the sea on Sunday.

It’s been too long since my last adventure. The last big one was months ago. A quick weekend trip to Canada and an afternoon of exploring. The months before were full of criss-crossing between homes and states. The usual jumble of timezones, hellos, goodbyes, and I’m not even sure what that have made up my Decembers for the past few years. But this one was on steroids, culminating in a birthday, a wedding, and a road-trip up Hwy 101.

But since then, it’s been hard work finding a rhythm all my own.

In January, I stood on the beach thinking how much promise the world held. A week later, a wave crashed over me, threatening to drown me in grief.

God felt far away.

I was angry. Hurt. Confused.

I had taken a leap of faith and felt like another bone had snapped, causing me to tumble with no one to catch me. And just like before, I would cling to my pride, smile, and tell you that none of it bothered me.

Deaths. Moves. The loss of community? No big deal. I’d be fine thank you very much.

I threw myself into doing, not letting myself feel the ache that went all the way to my bones. My soul felt as gray as the winter sky. Numb like fingers too long exposed to ice. Adventure was the last thing on my mind. Creative juices were dammed up with barely a trickle leaking out.

It was horrible.

I had forgotten that this is how adventures go.

In my early twenties, I longed to backpack across Europe. To ride the railroads of America. To see every single island in the Polynesians. If there was an emotion, I wanted to feel it. Pain, ecstasy, and anger were all signs that I was alive. I wanted to see the sunset on every continent. To hear stories around a thousand campfires and cafe tables. To try to capture every emotion and scene in books.

Yet, life took unexpected detours; adventures happened that I could never have dreamed up. I can look back and smile at the things I’ve done, the places I’ve been, and the many wonderful people I’ve met along the way.

But through my numbness these past months, I’ve discovered something deeply disturbing.

I want adventure on my own terms. Not in the natural order of things. I want adventure with a certain amount of safety. A certain amount of money in my savings account. A certain number of little black dresses hanging in my closet. A certain amount of handsome friends in the wings. Adventures have been contained to weekend visits or carefully planned outings.

That’s not adventure. That’s a carefully scripted play devoid of Divinity.

As I sat on the beach, I thought a lot about adventure. People have accused me of having a lofty view of adventure, as if it is an idol that I serve. I don’t think so. My view of adventure is not too high but too small.

I want to live adventures in my own image but those are only shadows of what Christ calls me to. All too often, I’m content to live a vacuous life but God isn’t. He’s calling me outside the lines to the unknown places where the wild things are. Not only to watch the waves come in from the shore but to jump in and let the seaweed tangle in my hair. To love people even when it hurts. To put others first and to live a life of sacrifice. To not care what others think but to live according to the rhythms God beats out.

Adventure made in my own image is shallow living. Adventure made in the image of God is the truest form of living there is.

I’m casting off the bowlines again. Clinging to God when the rest of the world just doesn’t make sense. Sailing to some uncharted waters. Changing a lot of things up…but in a very good way. Join me?

65 days ago Short URL 3 Comments

Adventure

Jan

What Love Does

Chasing love instead of receiving it.

I found this little post in my “pending” file, waiting to see the light of the blog. It was written last year but it still rings true. Since I haven’t been writing as much, I decided to let it loose. Let me know what you think. - Caitlin

In the past few weeks, I’ve been discovering the pain of grace and what love does.

It’s wrecking me.

I’m not talking about romantic love. This isn’t an announcement that I’ve fallen in love. I haven’t. I’m talking about something different.

I’m talking about the kind of love that shows up in the ledger of our daily lives. The people, the friends, and the family, and even the strangers sent by God, who offer a glimpse at what it means to truly love and be loved. Not the thin plot lines of Hollywood blockbusters but the fabric of good stories that make us want to sneak in the novel and live as one of the characters.

The kind of love that Bob Goff writes about in his wonderful book, Love Does.

See, love does the most peculiar things.

1. Love realizes that life isn’t a popularity contest but a chance to invest in other people.

That means not everyone makes the inner circle but everyone feels welcomed. I used to think that life was about who you know and the connections that you make. Now I think that life is more about loving Jesus and leaking His love.

No one likes the people who try to claw their way to the top of the social ladder. It’s ugly to see people use and abuse acquaintances all in the name of their almighty career.

What’s refreshing is someone who is genuinely interested in you. A person looks at your life and recognizes that even if you have no worth in their career plans, you have worth as a person.

If you want friends, be curious. Ask the other person about their life. See how you can help them. Invest.

2. Love sits with you in the dark, letting you know that you aren’t alone.

As a writer, I used to think that love was best expressed in flowery words. Now I think that sometimes, you just need someone to sit on the couch beside you, shut up, and physically be there.

It’s easy to celebrate the high points. To throw a party, uncork the champagne, and tip your head back as laughter bubbles out. That’s fun.

But the test of love is the dark days. The days you need companions to nudge you toward the light. The people who show up in those times are your real friends.

The rest are just posers. I’m ashamed to admit how many times I’ve been revealed as a poser and not a friend.

3. Love finds a way to make you dance through the pain, creating capers during the mundane days.

I used to think that life should be like one giant Indiana Jones adventure (as a child, I would grab a hairbrush and pretend to be a reporter, telling thrilling news from far-off places) and that each thrill must be greater than the previous one. Now I think that some of the best adventures are found in celebrating life, even at home.

Last weekend, my newest roommate decided she needed a “Caitlin Day.” So she cleared her calendar and stayed home to make sure I didn’t kill myself in my attempts to walk on my very broken leg (I’m slowly learning it’s a bad idea). She also decided to play chauffeur for the day, breaking me out of the house and whisking me away to rendezvous after rendezvous with friends.

Yeah, I’m spoiled.

But that’s what love does. It makes even the most boring of days sparkle with new life.

4. Love accepts you for who you truly are, not the mask you wear for the world to see.

I used to think that you had to be worthy of love, to earn it in one way or another. But now I think that the beauty of love is that it keeps on going, even when the receiver is unlovable.

There are many types of masks we wear. If you’re like me, makeup is a great one because it’s so easy and fun. I’ve blogged about makeup and vulnerability in the past. I want to be beautiful but I’ve learned that true beauty isn’t found in bottles – it’s found in having confidence in who you are in Christ.

Let people see the real you. The one that eats ice cream out of the container, consistently forgets to make their bed, and scowls as they kick their laundry basket down the hallway with their booted up leg. Oh wait, that’s just me.

Love cultures beauty, but to invite love, you must first be vulnerable. Love won’t reject you.

5. Love laughs. A lot.

I used to think that love was full of laughter; the kind that starts as a giggle, turns into a loud exclamation of joy, and then turns silent when you laugh so hard the sound doesn’t get a chance to escape. I still think love is like that.

To be honest, I think about the book of Proverbs when I think about laughter. Weird, I know. I think about the oft maligned Proverbs 31 woman. She was “clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.” I think about the verse that talks about a cheerful heart being good medicine.

If that’s true, I plan on overdosing.

Love can laugh because love is secure. Love knows the end of the story and it’s a good one. Joy blossoms even on the darkest days when it is watered with gratefulness and fed with hope.

As I’m learning what love does, it’s transforming me. Peeling off the layers of comfortable apathy and challenging me to leak love to the people around me.

What do you think love does?

photo credit: h.koppdelaney via photopin cc

113 days ago Short URL 3 Comments

Faith/Love

God/grace/Jesus/love/relationships

Jan

Les Mis, The Gospel, and Me

Les Mis I wept during Les Miserables.

I didn’t even bother trying to hide it. Big fat tears rolled down my face as my eyes soaked in the beauty, the light, and the gospel that was being played out on the screen in front of me.

The story of Les Miserables is one full of many things: hate, betrayal, lust, longing, power, and incredible loss. Almost every emotion is portrayed at one point or another. Every character goes through the kind of experiences that should land them in counseling.

Truly horrible things happen in the most wretched of places. Just like real life.

Yet the story is beautiful.

Sarah Markley wrote about her reaction to the movie thus:

When Val Jean confesses to Marius that he has been a thief, that he has been a fraud his entire life and has lived under a different name and that he must go away to ensure his daughter’s respect, Marius simply softly says {sings},

“You’re Jean Val Jean.”

He simply speaks his name.

The look on Val Jean’s face is one of utter relief, of ache and of gratefulness. It has been over 20 years since someone has truly known him. And now someone was speaking his true name without reproach or hatred but with love. The expression is insignificant but communicates perhaps the biggest need we have as humans.

We all have an ache to be known for who we really are, I think.

Isn’t that the truth?

We’ve all made mistakes but those aren’t the things we want to be known for. It’s the beauty in our hearts, the longing for good, that reaches out and wants to be known. To be named.

We all want to be forgiven. Loved.

When someone I hardly know, or know just well enough to spill their soul to me, tells me their sins, I smile and tell them that all will be well. If Christ has forgiven them, who am I to judge?

I walk away from the conversations feeling light-hearted for I know that it’s the truth. The truth that sets free.

It’s easy to offer this truth to strangers but hard with the skins and souls that I see every day. That benevolence comes to a halt when I’m faced with the sins of the people in my life. For those sins hurt me, even if it’s just my pride that collects the shrapnel. I bleed and the ugly comes out.

I want to be Bishop Myriel, the one who changes a chorus of lives by his love and kindness for a stranger who has just stolen his treasures. But instead, I’m Javert, refusing to acknowledge repentance and redemption in the lives of those I know best.

I cling to rules because they make sense, like a mathematical formula learned long ago and recited in the night when you can’t sleep. If you are that sort of person. I choose these rules because they are safe. Yet these rules damn me and those around me.

Sitting in church today, that pastor reminded us that our faith isn’t about sin management or a set of rules that magically open the gates of Heaven or the good life – that’s the opiate of the church, church-ology if you will, but not the gospel. Christianity is a deep seeded belief and agreement with God that redemption only comes through Jesus. Not Jesus + _____.

Just Jesus.

His words were a renewal of the gospel. The renewal of truth.

Markley wraps up her post:

What is amazing is that someone has known us and still loved us. And perhaps has loved us as a result of knowing even the horrible cracks in our surfaces. He knows us because he has created us.

Let us seek to be a people who know one another and who allow others to know us as well.

Amen. A thousand amens.

122 days ago Short URL 8 Comments

Faith

God/Jesus/love/relationships

Jan

My Word for 2013

Hot tub.

Pool.

Hot tub.

Rinse and repeat.

It’s New Year’s Day. I’m in San Diego and life really can’t be much better. While my adventure buddy is at morning Mass, I’m having some quality Jesus time by the pool just because I can. I’m ridiculously blessed and I’ve never been more aware of it.

I’ve been mulling over words for a few days, feeling them out on my tongue. All of them are wonderful but none of them are right. I’ve been praying over them, knowing that in one way or another, they’ll set the tone. Last year’s words sure did.

I’m in intermediary space – between the pool and the hot tub, halfway on my move across the country. This no man’s land of being a ghost wherever I go. It’s familiar territory but I long for vibrance.

Renew

The word comes as I slip into a familiar swimming stroke. After a lap, I flip to my back and watch the the palm trees sway in the breeze. Overhead, a woman open her balcony door, taking a drag out of her cigarette. She looks at me and I fight the urge to shout a new years greeting. She looks hungover.

We make eye contact and she goes back inside.

It’s just me and the word.

Renewal.

To be honest, it scares me a little. I’m good at discovering things. Collecting novel experiences like passport stamps on my heart. Change has been my constant companion. It’s what I know best. I’ve gone on many trips but it’s rare for me to return.

I slip back into the hot tub and two verses from long ago pop into my mind.

“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” Romans 12:1-2

These will be the verses I will chew on the most this year. The phrase “transformed by the renewing of your mind” is something that will linger in my head for days.

Back in the pool with all my nerves tingling from the cold, I think of the past few years. The lessons learned in Texas. The forever friends and their dear faces. The experiences and places that are now tattooed on my heart.

And I remember the older things. The things from the deep past that seem like a hazy dream.

The girl who dreamed of studying the classics at Oxford, crushed when she missed the a full-ride scholarship by a few test points. The girl who started a list of things she wanted to do before she was old, boring, or 30 years old (whichever came first). The girl who wrote simply because she had to get the stories out of her head. The girl who had terrible luck when it came to picking hikes. The girl who made me the woman I am now.

For me, renewal looks like seeing childhood haunts with adult eyes.

Reacquainting myself with the old rhythms of life and friends who I love dearly. Revisiting the hard truths of my faith instead of coasting on the fusion of faith+psychology+self-interest that is so easy for me to slip into. Looking at the things that have shaped me and respecting them for what they are.

As always, I find myself making a list. A list of things I “should” do, the things I want to do, and the things that are so ridiculous I probably shouldn’t even attempt. Somehow, the latter always make their way to the top of the list.

And then I pause in the pool.

It’s time to make time for the old. Not reverting to the old. Just striking up a friendship with the past.

What’s your one word for 2013?

photo credit: Julien Haler via photopin cc
photo credit: Julien Haler via photopin cc

132 days ago Short URL 13 Comments

Faith

faith/God

Dec

My ONE WORD Revisited

I still don’t like my words of the year.

Holiness and Righteousness.

One year later and they still aren’t comfortable.

The idea of holiness always reminds me of a pre-Raphaelite painting where women wander in robes and glow with vibrant purity. It’s that sense of ethereal unattainable otherness.

The idea of righteousness makes me think of someone who is trying to use Jesus instead of enjoying Him. I think of pharisees, hypocrites, and holier-than-thou types who may know the Bible but don’t know Jesus.

I read a lot about holiness this year.*

I learned a lot about righteousness.

I’m still pretty terrible at both but I think that’s okay. Holiness and Righteousness really aren’t the sort of things you can do on your own.

To get them down, you need Jesus, and even then, He’s the one doing all the work.

You just sit there, fully dependent on him, and it’s okay. He doesn’t expect you to master these words because without him, you’re just stuck trying.

Always trying and never succeeding. That sounds pretty rotten to me. Like Narnia being always winter and never Christmas.

The words get their bad reputation from people who try to make a magic formula. Jesus + _______ = holiness/righteousness.

Usually the blank is filled with rules.

Rules often come from good hearts. Rules become borders and walls to protect you from something evil or harmful. But when you rely on rules you are reducing the Maker of the Universe into a mathematical formula that you can manipulate to get the answers you want.

That doesn’t sound like it would work too well because it doesn’t. It can’t.

Jesus is Love, not a magic math formula.

Earlier this year, I sat in a class taught by the fantastic Fabs Harford. She was quick to remind us that “Jesus + _____ = idolatry.”

Every time we try to add to Jesus, we’re telling Him that He isn’t enough.

In the eyes of God, I am holy and righteous but it’s not because of anything that I’ve done. This year, I’ve become more and more aware of how dependent I am on God and others. I’m not an island. I’m not invincible. I’m a sinner in need of a savior.

That’s what I’ve learned from my twin words this year. I don’t know what my one word for 2013 will be yet. I’m still reeling from these but it will come. It always does.

What was your one word for the year?

* I read a book by R.C. Sproul called The Holiness of God. It isn’t perfect but it was a great start and I ended up highlighting much of the book. I highly recommend it. This year, I’m going to tackle Tyler Braun’s Why Holiness Matters. I’ll let you know how that one goes.

147 days ago Short URL 3 Comments

Faith

Dec

It Might Be Time For You To Go

Hello, open road!

During the last few weeks, I’ve been reminded of one of my favorite passages from one of my favorite books. It reads like an invocation to wary adventurers.

I love it dearly. I think you’ll see why.

“And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn’t it?

It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.

I want to repeat one word for you:
Leave.

Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn’t it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don’t worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed.”

- Donald Miller

I’ve loved it for the sheer adventure of going.

The going isn’t hard. You know that everything will be bewildering. That there will be moments when you look around you and wonder how in the world you ever got to the place you are standing. There will also be moments when you suddenly find a friend in a stranger and suddenly, the place doesn’t seem so foreign.

And now I’m going once again. But I’m not. I’m coming home. But what I find startling is that in some twist of irony, Texas has become home and Oregon just a fond memory. The words make me smirk as I write them. I never would have imagined saying that at the beginning of this crazy adventure.

In all the changing, the moving, and the adventuring, the time to go back has snuck up on me. Yet it’s here, beckoning me back. And go I must.

At the moment, I’m in a lull of intermediary space. It can be a scary place but it’s not bad when you are standing in the doorway, able to look forward and back, seeing home in both spots. Not everyone is so blessed.

So bags must be packed in my car, friends hugged tightly, and memories made once again on the open road. It’s thrilling and terrifying at the same time. Because once I’m on the other side, there will be familiar faces to be reacquainted with, life rhythms to beat out, and feeling out the dichotomy of the girl I was when I left and the woman I’ve become. Walking confidently in path God’s set before me and living palms up to the people around me.

It’s going to be an adventure, y’all.

An epic one.

I’d love to have you stick around as I’m on it.

What adventure are you on right now? What made you choose to go on it?

photo credit: wili_hybrid via photopin cc

161 days ago Short URL 2 Comments

Adventure/Faith

Dec

Be Secretly Incredible

Why yes, that is an alpaca.

Everyone wants to be incredible.

But these days, incredible people are a dime a dozen.

You only have to log onto the internet to find someone who is an expert, guru, or something else that sounds almost magical. People are quick to draw attention to themselves, the ringmaster in their own personal circus, on display for the world to see.

In the quest to be incredible, we’ve had to advertise how cool we are and market ourselves in hopes of getting likes, not genuine friendships or life change.

Being incredible is being average.

It takes a certain type of person to be secretly incredible.

Secretly incredible people are the ones who can face life with a twinkle in their eye, knowing that even when they are down, they aren’t out for the count.

They know that even if they are passed over by billions, they are one of a kind. That even if no one knows their name or calls them by ugly ones, they still have worth. Their worth is not determined by anyone other than God.

They still have a story to tell and a heart to offer love.

Secretly incredible people are free to live vibrant lives that leave marks on generations to come.

My grandfather was one of those secretly incredible people.

To most of the world, he was just a sweet old man with Alzheimer’s and perpetual twinkle in his eye. We were ghosts to him, all of us except Grammy, his high-school sweetheart. She he remembered clearly.

He was larger than life to his family. I could go on for hours about him; about the way that he had lived a full life, the kind that most people only lazily dream about on summer afternoons.

He had been the handsome co-captain of the football team in high school, a dashing pilot during WW2, and a daring fire-fighter who rescued children from a burning building.

He was a hero.

But like many heroes, he didn’t go around telling people how awesome he was. He didn’t have to. The people who knew him were in on the secret and often forgot other people weren’t.

He cared more about doing the right thing than being popular. Success wasn’t measured by his bank account, his Klout score, or how many fans he had. He was driven by love for his family and fellow mankind.

I don’t know about you but I think that’s a great legacy to inherit.

As I face the reality of his death, I’m left taking a hard look at the way I define success and being incredible. I’m starting to see the gap between what I believe and the way that I’ve led my life.

Being incredible has more to do with pride than holiness or being a good person.

Jesus talked about being secretly incredible in Matthew 6. He got frustrated by the way people were trying to one-up each other in good deeds to boost their popularity. Instead of congratulating people for doing multiple good deeds and being incredible, he told them that if they were looking for public accolades, congratulations, that was the only reward they were going to get.

That’s not the reward I want.

The way of Jesus is an invitation to be secretly incredible. That’s what my Gramps discovered and that’s what I’m learning.

How do you define success? What kind of legacy do you want to leave?

168 days ago Short URL 6 Comments

Faith

Nov

A Public Apology

Writing = Responsibility

I have a confession to make.

I’ve been cheating on my website.

You may have been able to tell by some of the halfhearted posts that have cropped up over the last six months. I want to apologize for just cranking out content instead of writing what’s really on my heart. It’s not fair to you. It’s me.

I write professionally and my heart hasn’t been here for quite a while. I never thought I’d lose my first writing love, but I did. I used to love to write, letting the words splash out on the page in my excitement. But then I started getting self-conscious, unsure of what to say, and not knowing if I really wanted to reveal the things that were really on my heart.

So I stayed shallow and started churning out words that I didn’t feel.

It felt safer that way.

As many of you know, I broke my leg in September. It was painful, but it was one of experiences of my life. Instead of spreading myself thin in an over glorification of busy, I just got to be.

While hanging out at home, I’ve had to face a lot of the ugly parts of my life: my obsession with busyness, spiritual laziness, and obsession with self. I couldn’t handle it.

I don’t know about you but I’ve got a lot of ugly.

So I had to turn to Jesus. Take Him at His word and let Him do what He says He will do – take care of me.

It’s been hard but it’s been good.

It’s time for me to grow up.

It’s time for me to embrace the responsibility that comes with writing and having a semi-public voice.

I want to thank Emily, Suzanne, and my mom for calling me out on my apathy and encouraging me to do better; to use my words responsibly to share a message instead of just using them to hear my own voice. I want to thank Christy for her example of being a writer who takes her words seriously, even when it means surrendering to the fine print.

In the next few months, you’ll see some major changes happening here on the site. I hope you stick around to see what they are and let me know what you think. I’m going to need your help.

The first thing I need you to do is tell me about the most fascinating person you know.

The second thing is to say a prayer or two for me as I start saying yes to the bigger things that scare the daylights out of me.

The third thing is to hang tight. The changes aren’t going to happen overnight.

But they are going to happen.

I’m excited to go on this journey with you.

So who have I been cheating on my blog with? Here are some of my latest articles:

Faith

Love

The Strangest Gift

Social Media

photo credit: michal_hadassah via photopin cc

194 days ago Short URL 3 Comments

On Writing

God/Jesus/relationships/writing

Oct

God Delights. We Ignore. Typical Humanity?

It started out as a simple enough of a question.

“So Caitlin,” my friend said casually. “What keeps you from God? What keeps you from delighting in Him?”

That’s not an easy question. That’s an oh crap, now I have to be honest with myself question.

I know what keeps me from intentionally spending time with God. Laziness. Coasting on the faith my parents instilled in me. A million little daily choices of putting my will above God’s. Chattering happily to Him through prayer but never caring enough to sit and listen to what He’s saying back.

My own little pet forms of idolatry that I feed daily.

But what sucks is that those excuses don’t fly with God. He’s love drunk for humanity. He delights in us.

Delights.

The word itself makes me smile. I picture a pack of little boys like the photo above, so wrapped up in what is fascinating them that the rest of the world fades away. I like that. A lot.

We like it when someone shares in our joys and our sorrows. We like it when someone wants to know us. It’s awesome. Unless they happen to be particularly odious and cut out of the Mr. Collins cloth. But they want to be known too.

I think that friendships are forged at a glance, solidified in shared experiences, and something deep happens when you look at the other person incredulously, because it turns out that they too have a deep fascination for “x”, and before that exact moment in time, you thought you were the only person in the entire universe who thought that way.

You know how it goes.

When someone delights in you, they ask a million questions because they want to know what makes your eyes light up. They listen when you babble for hours because they want your dreams to come true. The corners of their lips can’t help but turn up when they look at you.

Hours feel like minutes when you are with the one your heart delights in.

What absolutely blows my mind is that the Bible says that’s how God feels about you. Universal you, you-you, and me, too.

He delights.

God knows us, wants to be involved in our daily lives, and in turn, wants to be known by us.

He created this crazy-huge world with billions upon billions of microcosms of people. Each one a universe in our own right with other planets orbiting, dreams swirling, and a millions stories wrapped up in skin.

He could have left the world formless and void. He could have gone on happily for eternity without even creating the world, let alone humanity.

But he wanted community. With us.

He wanted to delight in us. To remind us of His love every time a rainbow arches across the sky. To make us gasp in awe as we view the milky blue sea of stars.

I have a hard time wrapping my mind around that. I have a hard time recognizing that broken, flawed, and sinful though I am, God delights in me.

Delights. In. Me.

He likes me.

The Bible is full of references of God’s love and delight.

He brought me out into a broad place;
he rescued me, because he delighted in me. - Ps. 18:19

The Lord delights in those who fear him,
who put their hope in his unfailing love. - Ps. 147:11

For the Lord takes delight in his people;
he crowns the humble with victory. - Ps. 149:4

The Lord your God is with you,
the Mighty Warrior who saves.
He will take great delight in you;
in his love he will no longer rebuke you,
but will rejoice over you with singing. – Zeph. 3:17

God’s love is sprinkled throughout the Scriptures and on vibrant display in the world.

The wonder of life; lungs stretching with air, neurons firing, and millions of blood platelets navigating your body. The gifts of daily food. Of health. Of laughter. The spicy smell of the pines and the feel of early morning fog.

All is a gift and all is grace.

Which makes me feel even more miserable.

Why is it so easy to ignore the fact that He delight in us? Why do we live like he hates us?

photo credit: TheeErin via photopin cc

213 days ago Short URL 4 Comments

Faith

faith/God/Jesus

Oct

Get Undead

I don’t remember the first time I saw a dead body but I remember clearly the day when my sister saw her first dead body. It was in Anatomy + Physiology lab in high school and it was cadaver day.

“This is a new cadaver,” the student teacher said cheerfully. “That means most the skin will be on it. It’s rare to get this kind of opportunity.”

She unzipped the plastic covering the dead body.

My sister and I gasped.

Unfortunately, our fresh cadaver looked suspiciously like our dearly departed great-grandmother who had passed just a month or two before.

Just like her, actually.

My sister reacted by bursting into tears and ran out of the room.

I stayed, tried to focus on the guts instead of the face, and ended up puncturing a lung. Not mine. A dried pair that we were passing around the room.

Let’s just say it wasn’t a good day for the Muir girls.

Death isn’t something that we try to think about very often. But when you are face to face with a dead body that looks like someone you loved, it’s all you think about.

It’s been on my mind more and more lately. Three acquaintances died recently. Two of them are just faint memories and lives well lived. The third was younger than me. She had so many dreams ahead of her. So much…life.

Death sucks.

Death is the unwelcome friend that we pretend doesn’t exist as we carve out our existence. We have a culture that idolizes youth and immortality. Yet it always comes and stares at us in the face.

My friend Clay Morgan says that merely existing is not living. He says that life isn’t defined by extreme fear or faith but rather a quest to be fully alive during the simple blandness of routine days.

Clay Morgan, Author of Undead

I think he’s on to something.

A few weeks ago, Clay asked me if I would read his book if he sent it to me.

He said it was about Jesus and zombies and finding life after death before death, or something like that.

I really didn’t understand what it was about but it sounded intriguing and unlike the books that I usually read, so I said yes and hoped for the best.

I thought the book was all about zombies so I watched the first season of The Walking Dead while I waited for the book to come.

You know, as homework.

I was wrong.

Undead: Revived, Resuscitated, and Reborn is about more than zombies. Which is good because my flavor of undead is more Pushing Daisies than The Walking Dead.

Undead is about life.

It’s that whole finding life after death before death thing that Clay was trying to tell me about. In his book, he explores and idea that is more horrifying than an episode of The Walking Dead.

We’re the Walkers.

Even if you don’t watch the show, the concept is hard to swallow yet so simple to grasp. I’ll break it down for you if you don’t want to wade through the gore and blood:

We’re damned. All of us.

Every attempt to save ourselves is futile.

Death will come. There’s no escape.

And we know it, even if we try to live like it’s a lie.

Spoiler alert: in the end, everyone dies.

But thankfully, God specializes in the impossible things like bringing people back to life. Jesus didn’t come to train us in sin management. He came to raise us from the dead and give us eternal life.

In the Bible, there are six instances of people being brought back to life. We forget about those. As my pastor says, God will cross any barrier to love us. Even death. Just look at John 3:16 for a reminder of that.

Clay wanders a bit in the book, first exploring how past cultures were fascinated with death and then fast-forwards to our current zombie-loving culture. Without reveling in the macabre, he raises a lot of questions while nudging people towards the answers.

It’s never boring. He also keeps it hilarious, going from one pop culture reference to another. Michael Jackson and the Wizard of Oz even make an appearance.

The thing is, everyone dies but not everyone lives.

It’s true. Don’t act like you don’t know it.

Most of us claw for an existence but never really revel in the good gifts that we’re given. Instead, we fight for the things that we don’t have. We try to settle for the murky shadows of the things we were created for. Or worse, our longings get out of hand and become insatiable.

We take turns as spiritual zombies, either through a mind-numbing depression that also entombs our hearts, or as spiritual vampires who prey on others.

Clay says that selfishness is spiritual vampirism. That it’s ”living based on our needs rather than the needs of others. At its worse we can suck people dry and move on to the next victim, always looking for ways to get what we want no matter how many people get hurt in the process.”

Ouch.

I hate that he’s right. But most of all, I hate that I see me in that description.

Back to the Bible for a moment.

The story isn’t over. We’re offered a blood transfusion of sorts that will save our souls. But we’re too busy clawing to grasp the grace. That’s what the book reminds us of time and time again.

Overall, I was surprised at how much I liked Undead. It’s gospel-centered without being preachy or judgmental. Instead of damning, it offers a fresh reminder of the eternal life God offers.

I think that’s worth talking about.

Interested in getting your own copy of Undead? Order it.

What do you think it means to be fully alive?

photo credit for dead body: taiga-tundra via photopin cc

220 days ago Short URL 8 Comments

Book Reviews/Faith

God/Jesus