Tag Archive for: therapy

New ink, memories and finally seeing myself…

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I sat on our porch, overlooking the Great Smoky Mountains. We were nestled in a beautiful rental for the week, where we as a family had already made some everlasting memories. From the spectacle of Pigeon Forge: bright colors, King Kong hanging on the side of a building, dinosaurs, amazing food at Flavortown and so much for the senses to absorb, to Gatlinburg,(so much Ripley’s!) to the breathtaking beauty in the National Park, we enjoyed every single second together during Spring Break. It was a perfect mix of relaxing, laughing and holding on for dear life while riding on the many roller coasters at Dollywood. 

Our week together was about half finished as I wandered out to the porch after dinner. I had begun Theo of Golden by Levi Allen just a few days earlier and couldn’t wait to keep reading. What an astounding novel! The day had been full – seeing, wandering, worshiping as we enjoyed the outdoors, so relaxing in a rocking chair with a fantastic read was a delightful thought. My boys had gone on a hike and my youngest and her friend were giggling somewhere else in the cabin. 

Just as I was engrossed in Theo, I heard the screen door slide open behind me and the girls burst onto the deck.

They were pure joy! The giggles, care and more giggles from these two teens made my heart burst. Their “finishing each other’s sentences, harmonizing and just getting one another” connection was a wonder the whole week. This evening, they bubbled out, full of presence and quickly sat crisscross apple sauce by my feet. I smiled and closed Theo…

I watched Jasey move behind my daughter to braid her hair while my Sky held a shiny foil tube of henna and stretched out her leg. We had given them to her last year for her birthday and many times, I have watched her doodle, create and mesmerize with the “ink,”  on her friends or self. Her artistic talent is a wonder to me, whichever medium she chooses. She often will sketch in the evenings and never fails to astound us.

I can almost see her brain at work when she applies henna. I can’t describe it, but her artistic visions come out beautiful every single time. This time was no different, she began drawing a flowing, graceful, “hopeful (her words)” sunshine that I could nearly feel. She kept adding to the art on her leg and I could not take my eyes off her or her drawing. 

I am a huge believer of “moments,” becoming memories and for whatever reason, this one felt very precious to me. Maybe because I love the stories that are tattoos and the artistry. Maybe because I am truly jealous over her ability to create. I have entirely different talents. Maybe it was the dopamine from vacation, although I would say that I would’ve felt the same at home with her artistry, because I have. Mostly, the moments and her art are just magic. She finished drawing a while later, the boys returned and we got busy listening to my son strum his guitar and listening to nature, hoping we would see the black bears. 

The next day we explored The National Park again, the rivers, winding roads, lush vegetation and dappled sunlight that filled every crack between leaves and showed God’s artistry. 

I found myself torn; both awe and frustration as we stopped and explored. The bumpy, rocky and sometimes root-covered paths made keeping my balance so challenging. Even though my family walks with me, holds my hand and tries to anticipate all the help I may need, I still stumbled and before any of us realized, landed gracefully on my butt. It was too easy to feel like a burden to them.

The frustration is so real and so is my gratitude. 

My journey with my body, all the emotions, including a lot of anger, frustration and blaming my body for CP has been as long and as arduous as those paths in the national park. But it is one that I continue to traverse, because I know how much God himself calls our bodies, temples of the holy spirit. 

I listen to countless clients, friends, strangers and others beat themselves up, shame their bodies, engage in countless diets, difficulty and self hatred because of our bodies. 

I get it. And I’ve had my own emotional struggles, and have been working hard to find the love for this body that I encourage clients to seek for themselves. 

Here is the honest truth for me…it has been much easier to point anger, disgust and even close to hatred at these legs with CP than it has been to love, honor and care for them. For years….

But, God is, as always, working to redeem all the things of this earth, especially us. He has been doing more work in me than I have words for..

As I had sat watching my beautiful daughter create, and as I took in the wonder of God’s artistry of creation, (still absorbing the adrenaline from that fall), something whispered inside, “I also created those legs…and they too are a wonder…” 

The next morning, I asked Sky to create a similar drawing to hers on my leg. I just loved it so much…

She so willingly obliged. 

As she finished, it took my breath away. It was so pretty on MY leg, which made MY LEG PRETTY. 

As the morning went, dishes were drying, giggles continued abounding and plans formed for our last day of vacation. I couldn’t stop staring at the art on my leg, letting the henna dry so the picture would be deep and lasting. I walked to our room, sat on the bed and again looked down at my leg. 

“Babe?” I called to husband. His smile entered our room first, then he was beside me, also looking at our daughter’s art on my leg. “I think…”I said slowly…”we need to go the Black Orchid. I am not sure I can leave here without this being permanent.”

Before I go further, I need to tell you that I am not a stranger to tattoos. If you look back on my blog, there is an entire story about the meaning of the sleeve on my arm. 

The other thing I will say is that our beautiful son, just two days earlier had told us that he needed to add to his cross tattoo while we were here in Tennessee. He did a lot of research and had landed at the Black Orchid. He came out of there with a beautiful vine wrapped around the cross tattoo on his forearm. We were all in awe of it, the way it represented life, Jesus’s death, the beauty and new life that IS because of Jesus’s sacrifice. For me, it was also a beautiful memory of the trip, our time together and the wonder of it all. 

So…the Black Orchid was not quite as random as it seemed, though the idea of me putting a big tattoo on my leg must’ve felt that way…

Husband held my hand, the knowing look of our 24 years together on his face. I couldn’t put it all into words…and the love and life between us held the grace for the “suddeness of this idea,” and his trust in me. 

We began talking logistics, budget and the details of my hope for new ink out of Sky’s art.

“Let’s just go see…”

So, as we headed back to Pigeon Forge with a agenda for the day, I left the henna on my leg. 

For the last time of this trip, we took it all in, colors, the feeling of being dropped into a carnival, and some beautiful restored cars that were rolling in for an upcoming car show. My boys were in heaven!. 

We rolled up on the Black Orchid to find a bunch of the artists chatting outside. My son got out first, quickly getting a handshake from his tattoo artist. 

“Sal,” was quick to hear my idea. He disappeared for a few minutes after taking a photo of my leg. 

He came back a few minutes later with a price and excitement. His estimate was far less than hubby I expected. My heart just knew that God was doing something…

An hour later, my boys returned from all their “car exploring” to pick us girls up. Sal had beautifully tattooed my daughter’s beautiful design, from my knee to my shin. (And updated the very first tattoo I got in my 20’s, an icthys and the verse, “My grace is sufficient for you, in your weakness, I am stong.” (II Corinthians 12:9) The new and the old on these legs went so beautifully together.

It changes me…

I can’t love her art, see God in it’s beauty and fullness on my leg, and continue with anger, disgust and negativity about these legs. 

It represents God at the very center, his immense beauty and how he holds it all, between the sun, stars and moon with such gorgeous tenderness, even me (and this body with CP).

There are a couple Disney references, because of course there are! The lanterns, an image of how the king and queen (from Tangled) never gave up on their daughter (My Jesus is even truer, has never given up on me, these legs or this body). Also, the lanterns are the beginning of Rapunzel’s new dream (finding peace in this body is mine…).

Put it all together, on my leg and it is a vision…

It is an exercise in me not shaming these legs or trying to hide them any longer. It is deliberate beauty, from just below my knee to my ankle that certainly will get noticed because my artist is amazing and deserves that. It is release from a lifetime of complication and negativity, literally finally embracing the sun and how glorious it feels. It is the continued redemptive work that God himself does in my heart, body and soul, every minute of every day. 

So, I came home from Tennessee with so much more than beautiful permanent artwork on my leg – though that in itself is pure joy. I came home with a million fantastic memories, the awe of other parts of country I had not yet seen, more love and gratitude than I thought possible and the healing and new perspective that only God can give. I am forever grateful for it all.

Be sure, God is here for you. He sees, with such gentleness, your biggest insecurity and shame. And he LOVES you with it. He just loves.

I pray you see yourself with all the beauty that he created you with. I pray we can all remember that we are all fighting our own battles, that kindness and beauty heal so much more than hate and that you are always worth the work of healing. And the next time you are standing in line, somewhere, anywhere and you notice tattoos, ask. There is probably an incredible story embedded in all that ink.

xoxo

Both/And

Psalm 34

 

Angst, agony, excitement and hope…

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You can feel the energy building in your body, your head spinning….realize you must find a way to manage it….

Lace us your shoes; you leave your Air Pods home and now listen to each footfall, hoping you will find the answer to the question that is rattling your insides, even though the question itself is unclear.

You’ve been here before, this restless, angsty spot that feels both frustrating and exciting at the same moment. And even though you have felt this restlessness before, each time it is again surprising and unknown.

Maybe you are a high school senior, with a horizon full of dreams, questions, fears and possibilities. Or you are a newly pregnant mama with so many feelings at once. Perhaps your spot is one of fear, and unknowns you didn’t ask for. You are on an edge of new things, even though you simply long for “the old.” Maybe you are in a job that has lost the joy and you dream every day of the next or new chapter. Finding love again after a broken heart, a job transfer, retirement or something else. Maybe you are taking on a new challenge in your career or longing to add “____________” to your story.

Whatever THIS spot is for all of us, It IS both an exciting and terrifying one. Sometimes the both/and is an extremely difficult thing to hold inside ourselves.

The older I get, the more I realize that living in the both/and is far more important and “normal,” than it is to have a “definitive answer.” What I mean is, most of the time I am teaching how to acknowledge and get comfortable with the unknowns rather than helping with a single dimension of emotions and experiences.

I recently spoke with a parent who is newly divorced and is adjusting to a new life, including shared custody of their child.

“Stacy, I can’t just be ok. As soon as I pick up my child, which I counted minutes until I could do so, I immediately begin dreading the moment when I have to bring them back to my ex.”

This is actually a common difficulty that is voiced to me in the privacy of therapy. I cannot imagine that sense of joy and dread at the same moment. I pray for many who find themselves in this situation – it is one of the most difficult in the world from my perspective.

I spoke with another parent who said to me, “dropping my child off and leaving them at a college many hours away from our home is one of the hardest things I have ever done.” The sheer agony of separation after you have poured your heart and soul into them is impossible to comprehend. And, the joy of watching our beloved kids soar? Well, that too is indescribable. I can relate.

The now and not yet…

both…and.

Our lives are more full of these sentiments than the moments of feeling just one feeling (and now that I mention it, we’d all just love to feel “good.” would we not? )

I can see so many clients, friends and families faces as I type. It is agony to be IN the hard; pure agony. And, when we have someone with us, to hear, hold, yell, comfort and understand, it becomes a bit easier.

May I give you a glimpse into my office – where both/and is the standard?

She hung her head and cried until her whole body shook. I sat across from her in my office, feeling my own heart hammer as she described “fighting cancer again.” Her journey held so much insult this time around. She and her husband had both just retired, planned a “trip of a lifetime,” and now had to forgo it so she could begin a grueling and hopefully life-saving regimen of chemotherapy.

“I know you are going to BOTH/AND.” She blew her nose in soggy Kleenex and I leaned toward her with a box of new ones. She took two out of the box, then blew her nose demurely.

“Yes, I might….but then again, maybe not yet,” I answered her. We talked about her faith, her love for Jesus and her anger at him that seemed to bubble up without any warning. We talked about the injustice of the new diagnosis, mere months after a routine checkup with her family doctor. We talked plainly about fear and the terror of death. Then she straightened up, sat primly in my office chairs and tried to switch gears, I think for my benefit.

“I’m sorry, I’m good now…I’m sorry I cried.” She looked at me from across the room and I felt internally sad at the whiplash she had just been through. She began finding every single reason to get away from the subject she had just wept about.

“That must be so hard to have such limited time to feel all these hard emotions,” I started gently.

“No, I am fine!” She stated with false bravado.

“You are allowed to be scared.” I said, meeting her eyes. “Do you know that it’s ok to say that, both here and anywhere you need to?” She dissolved into shaking sobs again, soaking another Kleenex.

Our next few months were filled with ALL the both/ands, fears of leaving her beloved family, loathing about medical side affects of chemotherapy, injustice and cancer; comfort found in her well-worn Bible and relationship with Jesus Christ and her wonderings about heaven. She wouldn’t talk about it, much, just referring to it, “when I get there.”

We talked often about my favorite Psalm, 13. It is the ultimate both/and to me.

She continues to fight the cancer that threatens her body, but not her heart and soul. She only rolls her eyes a little when I still mention both/and. Her eyes glisten when she speaks of being with Jesus and loved ones she longs for. In this context, the excitement for heaven is as real as the hope for more time.

She continues to teach me more than I believe I teach her. Love, passion, drive and joy in the life she gets to continue living. Not letting fear drive, we say throughout our time together.

She is just one that I have the honor of spending my days with. One of the strongest I’ve ever met, along with her family. There are others in their own middle, each battling to hold feelings that seem to oppose one another. They tell me often about being disgruntled that they know both/and AND grateful that they know both/and.

That is exactly right, being able to acknowledge our grief, pain and fear that may not be best described with words….and, holding unswervingly to the hope we profess.

“Stacy. When will I get THERE? When will I just be ok?” You would be shocked at how often I am asked this or something very similar. Oh, my heart WISHES I could answer this in the way soo many would like me to…I cannot. I often answer with something like this: “I know it’s so hard to wait…how do you care for yourself in the waiting for the next right step.” This is my verbal reply. Most of the time, this is the answer in my own head, sometimes a version a what I say to clients, my beloveds, or myself: “You are getting there, In exactly the right time, in the way he allows. If there is the right college decision, getting an answer after tryouts, awaiting test results, finding fulfillment, love or purpose after a long drought, Jesus is already there. Keep holding on, trusting yourself and being kinder than necessary. In the meantime, give grace. Listen more, speak less. Be a friend to yourself and others. Allow for the whole range of being human, feeling all the things, receiving comfort in many ways and trusting that somehow, all shall truly be well, even when we can’t see it.”

xoxo

Both/And

Psalm 13

Leaves on a stream, Montana and taking deep breaths…

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(For my love).

“Shhh….” My love wrapped his arms around me, my heart hammering and breath fighting to get down to my lungs. “Imagine a canoe, gliding through the water, no sound, other than the water of the river. Drops drip off the paddle, look around and just see everything with wonder….”

After he’d described this to me a few times, I felt my body begin to settle, my muscles gradually aching with an unwinding from being tensed up due to CP and anxiety. I couldn’t feel each heartbeat any more, which was good, because I was calming. My love just continued to hold tight, and the grace he gave stunned me – I’d never known a love like this one and never will again. It is the closest I can imagine to the love of God, which I know was God’s very plan for marriage. Still, if I am honest with you, it is tough to feel worthy of this much love and grace, from both Husband AND the God of the Universe….and both seem to lavish it on me over and over.

This river is a long, unintentionally cultivated image between us, born out of many things. It is my favorite, most calming imagery when my emotion brain has highjacked my system, when my thoughts race and I can’t seem to slow them down; when I am triggered by, something. Anxiety among those with CP is very common, but we know that those without CP are also greatly impacted. The numbers of those diagnosed with anxiety has sky-rocketed in the last 5-7 years.

I hear it over and over in counseling sessions: the moments of flight, fight or freeze when something alarming sends a signal to our amygdala to release cortisol and adrenaline (emotion brain). In the same instant, our ability to access logic and thought, problem solving and sometimes the “obvious” reaction (logic brain), is rendered useless until something calms that overworked amygdala.

For nearly as long as I have been a licensed MSW and practicing counseling, this concept has been an important part of my sessions, at least once a day; but often, more than that. It is, along with both/and, the most important concept that I teach. It is not uncommon to have a laugh with clients who after a few times hearing it, are lovingly complaining that once I teach it, they can’t unhear it. Believe me, I get it! I even eyeroll myself at times when I just want to rant and engage in emotion brain, but instead, the words in my head are, “deep breaths, smell the flowers, blow out the candles.”

I use so many analogies with clients, some funny, others poignant and others downright silly, but I don’t know….maybe we all do better if we have a picture in our heads along with an important concept. I often ask them if they remember old cartoons when someone is panicking and breathing into a brown paper bag? While we giggle about the images, this is how it is with our amygdala: they just need AIR…slow quiet breaths in order to get back to a “normal level of stress,” turn off the flood of adrenaline and cortisol and return to logic brain.

For me, there are a couple instant images when I think about managing anxiety: anxiety floating like leaves on a river and Montana.

When I was an MSW intern at our local Hospice, I soaked up as much knowledge as possible from my gifted supervisor and the entire team, a multitude of disciplines and so many books on death, dying and the grieving process. One such book that left a lifelong impact is Dying Well by Ira Byock. It is a book filled with the truth as I and so many others have have lived it in regards to death and dying. While that entire year spent at Hospice was life-changing, I think the book normalized and encouraged the lens that was already developing for me, the lens of value, dignity, respect and normalcy in all areas of life, not approaching death or grief as a taboo subjects but instead, striving to be with our friends, family, neighbors, communities and even acquaintances in this stage of life. It was another layer of not wanting the assumptions, not about someone dying, their thoughts, needs or purpose. “We needn’t wait till death is knocking at our door to realize that the treasures in our lives are the people we love or have loved,” says Byock.

The book has a way of showing how the pace of slowing, how the being with one another IS the gift, even in end of life moments. It is the vision of release, slowing drifting as the river carries the leaves: our fears, pain, desire to fix, our deep grief in the loss of ones we love. All of these images have become the very fabric of my being. Acknowledging, processing, grieving and being at peace.

I drank up every sentence in that book. At that time, Dr. Byock’s blurb in the back pages said that he lived and worked in Missoula, Montana. And at the time, that was my only frame of reference for Montana. One day, after a long work/internship day and evening classes toward my MSW, I told my boyfriend (now husband,) “I think we should just run away to Montana. I want to go work with Dr. Byock.” He looked at me quizzically and I explained, Dying Well, my admiration for Dr. Byock and how the holiness of Hospice work was seeping into my bones. He hugged me tight and said, “I’ll go to Montana with you….” (there is a reason he is husband.) From then on, when I had a particularly rough day or a very inspiring one, I would somehow insert or inquire about going to Montana. And he always says the same thing: “I’ll go to Montana with you…”

We’ve been together for nearly 23 years and all along the way, Montana has remained a dream. Kids, homes, dogs, life, required our finances and to be honest, the time has just not been right. Though I now sometimes surf VRBO and Airbnb when I have a day and dream of Montana, hint shamelessly and somedays, just threaten to book our vacation, we have not YET. When we watched the series, Longmire, a few years ago, I even decided on the river I wanted to find…then found out is ACTUALLY in New Mexico! Still there are rivers waiting in many places…and watching Yellowstone has stoked our desire to go, in all new ways….

But we haven’t yet…

I think the dream of Montana and it’s calming power is actually in the imagining. Not that I don’t want to go! But I think if the idea of the river, log cabin, canoe and horseback riding can instantly calm me, then perhaps I am afraid to change the dream with the real live experience…

Do you know what I mean? Have you ever hoped for a thing and then it FINALLY arrived and the luster wore off way too soon? Then it was just over….. I would be heartbroken if these images that have been so steadfast and comforting, the splash of the river and the drips from the canoe somehow changed in real – life. And…we really do want to go find my Longmire River. I KNOW deep down that Montana’s beauty will be unparalleled. And…I really want to go sit on the bank and thank Jesus for the majestic landscape, to hold my love’s hand and say, “I’m so glad…we finally came to Montana.”

I pray you have ones that will hold you during moments of inspiration, fear, anxiety and everything in between. I pray all the dreams and hopes that God has placed within you will be realized, ten-fold. I pray that you can see him everywhere from the beaches in Michigan, fields of Ohio, the evergreens of Portland, the crashing surf of Hawaii and wherever your place is….

I pray you are inspired by leaders in your field, that hope and dignity abound and that we all can one day not need images to calm us, but that God’s presence instead floods every inch of our beings.

I pray for the richness of living well and when the time comes that grace and mercy usher us to the feet of Jesus, the arms of God the Father hold tight with peace; and HIS gentle murmur, all shall be well.

Both/And

1 Peter 5:7

xoxo

What do we assume?

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I think, like most of America, I am dreading the next few months ahead of the next presidential election. As a therapist and a living, breathing human living in the US, I have heard so many opinions, broken-hearts, hopes, concerns and torn up family systems because of the state of our democracy.

*Here is my disclaimer, even before I write this post: This IS NOT a political post. I will not make this a post about who you vote for, why or even the passionate reasons why. I won’t, because I believe and value each person’s right to choose. Even if I disagree and even with all the contentious dialogue and tension that currently exists….

We are a society that WANTS to explain our feelings, our reasons, for many reasons. None of that is inherently wrong. We believe in OUR beliefs and our reasons – each side. And, As I age, I am all too aware of the massive damage and cost of assumptions…

Last week, our family spent a week on vacation at a beloved small lake up north on the Michigan coast. It was a delightful week of connection, rest, relaxation, fantastic food, smores and unplugging from our normal routines. For our family of 5 (plus my parents and beloved family friends) this was the 11th summer and our last one before our E heads to college in the fall. We laughed, played endless Spades and Euchre games, snacked, read, floated, soaked in the sun, had blessed conversations and tried hard to avoid social media/devices. The one exception was my dad and 18 year old daughter’s request to watch the first presidential debate.

In a recent sermon, my friend Steve Carter talked about the idea of having one grand confession daily: how confessing to ourselves, to God and to our safe, core group of people can actually allow us to greater love and depend on God. I l have been trying to be brave and practice that, so here goes…

My one grand confession today…. I really struggle with politics, as I have since I was 18. Before that, I don’t know if I honestly paid much attention. At 18, I was able to vote, tried to engage in beliefs and reasons to vote but quickly felt like it was all fake. I felt like both candidates might say the things that voters want to hear in order to get elected, were profoundly mean to one another and the whole business seemed to cultivate ugliness. Sure, I also saw most tension go away after whichever candidate was elected, but the whole process felt like bullshit to me. I always tried to vote, to educate myself the best I could, but my tolerance for it all has been low and gotten lower the last two voting cycles.

Ok, I guess one more confession…

I am so afraid this time around will be so much worse….which is why, when my family turned on last week’s debate, I sat with my back to the tv (while beating my son and his best friend in Euchre) but still hearing the already barbed, cutting and deeply painful interactions between the two current candidates. I felt my body tense as they traded insults, avoided questions and generally had little respect for one another. My insides that hope with every day to become more like Jesus, felt profoundly sad as I listened/tried NOT to listen.

I heard the commentator direct a question to President Biden, then a long bit of silence. Suddenly, I felt the hair on my neck stand up…

It was a few months into President Biden’s tenure in the White House when one of my kids came home, distraught about a friend mimicking a recent stumble the President had, while going up the stairs into Air Force One. Months before that, there were videos of President Trump mocking a disabled reporter that also greatly disturbed each of us. We as a family, value respect, care and equality in many areas. Disability is one that hits us differently because of me. Still, I am proud of our conversations, feelings of injustice and values in this regard. But when things like mocking and disrespect rear up, especially from the leaders of our country, it also hurts us a bit differently as well. My daughter was so upset that a friend who knows our family well and knows about my disability would be mocking a stumble….

That day, I took a DEEP breath and knew this would be yet another tough conversation, that stumble on the stairs for President Biden. I was not wrong. And over the course of his presidency, that stumble has cast a shadow on his cognitive abilities, his fitness as a leader and been fodder for many. In other words, many assumptions.

It leaves a knot in my stomach because of my own disability. Cerebral palsy is defined as ” a group of neurological disorders that affect a person’s ability to control their muscles and movement.” It’s caused by damage to or abnormal development of the brain before birth, during birth, or in early infancy. The term “cerebral” refers to the brain, and “palsy” refers to problems with muscle use. (Mayo Clinic).

Whew, tough to read that my own brain is “damaged, or abnormally developed.” That leaves a lot of room for interpretation….

From the time I could read (but not yet grasp the definition,) I have been afraid.

Of what, you ask?

So many things…I am afraid that when I write CP on a form ( as required on job applications when I was 16), I wouldn’t be considered for jobs because someone might assume things about me.

I am afraid that when people are new to me, see me, meet me, or arrive in my office, they might assume I have cognitive impairments because I walk different.

I have experienced people freezing up when they meet or see me because they assume…something.

I babysat for a neighbor one time, but then was told they didn’t want to have me again because they didn’t feel comfortable when I was walking with their child.

I have had people talk louder to me, speak to my husband instead of me or offer to send a nurse to my house when I was making a medical appointment.

I have spent a lifetime being afraid…of assumptions; navigating a culture that assumes SO MUCH. I have made an art form out of anticipating how people might react to me and being preemptive in order to make them and thus myself, more comfortable. I, (thank you Lord,) I have a career in therapy which made it non-negotiable that I do my own inner work with the my own therapist. These fears are far less at 51 than in my youth and yet they are still very real sometimes.

I empathize, which, hopefully, makes me good at my job with those who are also afraid of assumptions, those who have their own fears about showing who they are. (In other words, all humans.) My goals, both professionally and personally are to offer the space of acceptance, care and understanding, to exemplify Jesus Christ, whether people know him or not.

I think it is one of the ways God has worked my CP out for the good is that I both get to and must do my own work and because of CP, have a deep awareness of pain in general. I KNOW I would not be who I am without CP and, though there are many days I would like to trade the pain, I would never trade the lessons learned or who I am still becoming.

But because of it all, (the both/ands of CP), the hair on my neck stood straight up during that debate as President Biden groped for the right words, moved a bit slower and stumbled. I knew the rhetoric in the days following would be critical, assumptive and cruel because of these issues AND the deep divide in the country. It made me profoundly sad as we finished our card game that night…

The next morning, I scrolled on my phone for a few minutes before I got up.

It was so swift and so damning, the response to his performance: “Get him skilled nursing care, not a presidency.” “When is someone going to tell him to just enjoy his old age in a rocking chair…” “He is not able to walk, let alone run a country.” “A president in a wheelchair, I think not!”

I understand there will always be opinions about candidates, things we agree or disagree on. I also understand the choice to put oneself in public realm, which invites public opinions. But these are only a FEW of the assumptions, statements that are not about President Biden’s character, record or career. Rather they are a cruel and damning commentary about his physical being. These feel like attack on something else rather than a dialogue about the political issues.

Then another thought hit me so quickly it took my breath away…”if people are this cruel after his stumbles, (both literally and figuratively), what might they say about me? Right back to those fears…

I fell a couple weeks ago. I was turning a light off in the kitchen and for whatever reason, my feet got tangled and I hit the floor, hard. I wasn’t hurt, (more than my pride) other than the wrench in my back because I twisted on my way down to protect myself. I used a wheelchair the next day in church and was so anxious about the well-meaning comments and worry that I saw on friends’ faces, that I spent the morning trying to downplay the whole thing. I wonder kept wondering what people might assume because of my fall, the use of a wheelchair and the way my body is functioning as I age.

The difficulty is, we will all age, Lord willing. Would any of us want the bar that is being used with President Biden to be used on us if we stumble, forget some worlds or get lost in a conversation? Would we want to be relegated to “sitting and enjoying life” as our bodies change or be considered “finished with our identity and calling” because our physical bodies are slower, less capable or different than others? I know many whose intellect, purpose and abilities had little to do with how or what their physical bodies allowed, some of whom are young.

It’s’ a tough bar and none of us really can control how our bodies will change over time.

I am all for discussion about the issues. I don’t even mind civilized disagreement. But oh my goodness, it seems unnecessary to crucify someone because of their personhood that is beyond their control. In our house, a regular phrase is “generous assumption,” a phrase that if you know Brene Brown, you know. If you don’t, here it is…Making generous assumptions means we enter the conversation with an empty notepad. It means not creating a narrative based on a storyline that we have already played out, assuming we know another’s motives and why they do what they do. It means assuming the best about each other…. Husband reminds the kids at home, “it takes a lot more effort to be mean to be kind.” The truth of that grabs me every single time.

I’ve been trying to shake those cruel comments for the last week, my own fears and my fears for our country. I am taking a break from social media and surrounding myself with hope in all the ways I can. I am not perfect and have made my own mistakes with assumptions. But I suppose this is my way of shedding light on how assumptions can hurt all of us and perhaps my earnest plea to treat others how you want to be treated. John Bradford said, “there by the grace of God go I.”

Amen and amen.

Much love,

Both/And

Psalm 13

Perspective….

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(Disney part 4).

June 21, 1996: I had barely turned 23, was enjoying life, post Hope College and still a huge Disney buff. I lived in the small ranch home I’d recently purchased that had been my grandpa’s, with a beloved roommate. She was strong, smart and a person with whom I felt known and understood. She has an amazing voice, taught me a lot about Jesus, heartbreak and acceptance. I worked for a local grass-roots relational ministry with teens that both challenged and grew me in ways that I still feel. I felt in some ways as if I was finding my place in an adult world and yet, not…I was still so young, with so many questions, hopes and dreams.

God was moving and changing me in ways only he could…ways that were impossible to see.

Have you been there? Do you know that feeling too? The feeling of both knowing change is happening and holding awareness that there was so much more going on than what it seems?

Roommate obliged my Disney fascination that day and we went to see The Hunchback of Notre Dame which was just released. True to the current Disney Renaissance, the music, colors and story were breathtaking. But this day, I couldn’t see any of that.

In what felt like a speeding semi-truck carrying 3000 pounds slamming into my heart, I stared at that screen as Quasimodo listened to Frollo in Out There: “You are deformed, you are ugly, (they say) you’re a monster.” Something struck like an arrow in my heart that somehow, believed some of the same about myself.

Maybe you’ve been here too? Suddenly struck by big feelings in a VERY inopportune time, that surprise and reveal something about yourself you had NO awareness of…

I sat in uncontrollable sobs, not understanding the suddenness, the bigness or the depth of these tears. One part of of me literally tried to wipe the tears and get my shit together and another wanted to weep for this sweet character at the hands of evil on the screen, for anyone who had felt the same and for my own very raw and unexpected pain….

Roommate was a gift, put her arm around me and handed me a grease-soaked napkin to wipe my tears. She was one of the few in my life that knew my CP insecurities at that time, a safe place that I didn’t even need to explain this gush of “ugly crying.” She may have understood those tears better than I did myself at that moment to be very honest. At the time, she and my best friend were two of the safest people I’d ever known.

I cried throughout the movie, the cry of being “undone -” during God Help the Outcasts, a song that still levels me; watching Quasimodo receive the love and respect of Esmerelda and his longing for something more. My 23 year old self believed I would always be dismissed because of my disability, could not see any normalcy in my being. This is often how I understand the way we all have distortions, particularly about ourselves, because for the longest time, I had them too. At least to a much greater degree than I do now! (Thank you Lord for redemption, even of our own perceptions….)

Over the course of this career, I have heard hundreds of cognitive distortions: “my smile is ugly,” “God cannot love me after all I’ve done wrong.” “I will never get over this.” “I am a complete failure….” “There is no hope, Stacy. This will never change.”

Whew….do you hear all those absolutes? My radar picks those up, quick! Gently, I nudge back…”always? Never? are you sure?” Then comes a (sometimes, involuntary) eye-roll….

Perception IS strong…and…truth is stronger.

While this is one tiny glimpse into some of my perceptions, we ALL, because we live on the fallen side of heaven, carry distorted perceptions. God in all his goodness, has led me toward truth, his truth of who HE made me (US) to be: “fearfully and wonderfully made;” – Psalm 139:14. “valued;” – Matthew 6:26. “known.” 1 Corinthians 8:3. “rescued, redeemed and forgiven;” Colossians 1:14.

To tell you of the whole journey would take the whole of my life. And to be true, this is not really about me. It is about US, in terms of the human experience.

Disney is in my opinion, is a powerful lens for me, so here is another small example. In Aladdin, we see a “street rat” who knows without doubt (at least in the beginning,) that there is so much more to who he really is. As the movie goes on though, he too, buys into the perception that he is not enough without the façade the Genie helps him create.

It is so vulnerable to just BE ourselves, isn’t it? And…if we can sit with it, tolerate the vulnerability, there is tremendous, beautiful freedom in the reality of who God has created us to be.

It is universal, how we strive to BE better, weigh less, act, cover the undesirable spots, etc. And it is universal…how we all are ALL, are exactly who and how we’re meant to be in the now and not yet. Our flaws, mistakes and insecurities are understandable and covered by the love of God, IF and WHEN we have the courage to hold them in that light.

Quasimodo, throughout the movie, finds himself changed, from within. Because of his courage, his ability to receive love and respect from Esmerelda, his perspective of himself is largely changed as well. From Disney movies to stories in our everyday lives, to the very way God commands the wind to blow…so too our perspective of ourselves, others and the world around us can and will shift. I am profoundly thankful that it is God alone who gives the ability to change at all.

Today, THIS very moment, I am praying for you…for the freedom for distorted perceptions about yourself and others. I praying for the eyes and hearts of the the most tender God who calls us each beautiful and chosen. I am praying that we all, each and every, can lean into kindness for ourselves…to be able to receive love, kindness, grace and mercy as we never have before.

“You’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.” – Pooh, Winnie-The-Pooh.
Both/And

Psalm 13

xoxo

What Disney has taught me about traumatic loss…

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(Disney Part 2.)

I have long considered the things I learn from Disney. Some things fun, others silly, still others poignant, which is I think is the biggest draw for most people who return again and again. I know myself well enough to to know as well, that I can find meaning in almost everything, something that at 50, I’ve learned to love about myself. With my calling in life being family, relationships, following Jesus Christ and leaning into the counseling career God has brought me to, Disney is part of my learning and teaching every day.

I’m not sure how old I was when I saw Bambi the first time. I remember Bambi’s big, baby eyes, his mother’s kind and loving voice; the way the music took me on a musical journey from, “drips to drops,” storms and then back to the cozy thicket. The bond they shared through various seasons and then, the forlorn cries for his mother following panic and fear in the meadow. The truth from his father: “your mother can’t be with you anymore.”

As gut-wrenching as that scene will always be, Disney created such a beautiful picture (in 1942) about the circle of life, family bonds, love, joy, heartbreak, growth and around again. Without really saying words, Disney gave the image of Bambi persevering, even after the loss of his beloved mother. With still further trauma in a raging forest fire, there are further images of perseverance and finally, Bambi’s rise to adulthood and leadership.

In Old Yeller, 15 year old Travis is tasked with “adulthood,” in protecting his mother and brother on the prairie while his father is away. While the song is catchy and probably a memory itself, the story always grabbed my attention as a kid as well: the loyalty of a stray, the winning over of Travis’s heart, difficulties of family life and the bravery of Travis to euthanize his beloved dog when illness struck. The selflessness of that scene is stunning and brave.

What amazes me still, so many years after the production of these movies is how the creators struck a balance between the realities of life, death and the sense of natural progress toward health, perseverance and continued life. Though I was young when I saw these the first time and I didn’t have the awareness that I have now, I look back at all of the lessons in so many Disney movies with wonder.

When The Lion King was released in 1994, I was one year away from college graduation. I was in the thick of studying to become a social worker, a true Disney fan and I had experienced my first traumatic loss barely a year before. I did not realize how I was still in the throes of grief, or how this poignant movie would change me for the good. From the first strains of the first song, (if you know what I mean, you KNOW…) The Lion King was majestic. The animation had come such a long way during the renaissance of the 80’s and 90’s, as well as the heartfelt music. I’ve long heard that the Broadway production of the Lion King is “a spiritual experience” as well.

As beautiful as it began, Disney brought fans to the height of wonder, down to the true and intentional malicious nature of Scar, quite quickly. It depicted the bond between King Mufasa and Simba, father and son – teaching, guiding, discipling and laughing in such a natural and beautiful way that when Mufasa was brutally murdered just a few short minutes later, I wonder if audiences even knew what had hit them.

I remember sitting in the theater with college friends, in tears, then sobs as Simba tiptoed near his father’s body after the stampede. My heart even then, wondered how children endure such loss of parents when they are so young. I resonated with losing someone who you desperately want back.

Disney depicted Simba’s grief journey in again, such stunning and natural ways, the shock, bargaining, and avoidance; deep sadness, the reconciling we all do in whatever our process of grief. One of my favorite scenes, STILL, is the scene in which Simba runs, believing he will somehow find his father. Instead, is the reality when sees only his own reflection, fights frustration, then hears his father’s voice, “Remember who you are….”

Over the course of time and nearly 30 years of experience in counseling including grief and loss, end-of-life care and trauma, I have learned how shaken we can become while enduring loss. This certainly has varying degrees, depending on each individual, circumstances surrounding the loss and how we process. I often spend time normalizing spiritual conversations and the difficulties of who we are, why or the purpose for a loss “happening to us.”

Mufasa’s voice, urging Simba to remember “who you are,” for me, has some of the tone I hear in the Book of Job. After losing all his possessions, family, health – Job is struggling, grieving and just cannot understand. Though Job wrestles, God does not answer all of his “WHY’s??” God instead reminds Job (and us) that it is HE who knows the number of our days, the sovereignty he possesses and the way he works all things together for good. He asks us to remember, (even in the wrestling, profound loss, realigning after a loss or even being shaken to our core,) that WE ARE HIS. Remember…

When the movie UP arrived in theaters, I had two small kids who kept me hoping! I might have been in a bit of a fog with a 4 and 2 year old. We rented the DVD, because in 2009, that was still a thing and admittedly, we missed this one in the theater. We settled in for family movie night for what I thought was going to be something else entirely. (Like I said, probably toddler-mom-brain-fog.) While we munched popcorn and I had the kids snuggled in my lap, I found the tears falling quickly in the first 12 minute montage. The life of Carl and Ellie gave me a glimpse again, of the journeys I encounter with many clients. How the animators captured such deep love in the face of Carl, the hardness that grief can produce, the way we sometimes find ourselves unrecognizable AND the hope that can be found in others throughout the loss of loved ones, can only be explained by assuming that the animators themselves MUST HAVE endured profound loss themselves.

Another amazing truth that UP conveys, is the normalcy of continued relationship with a person who has died. I know this may be a little tricky, so keep reading, please!

As I walked through that first loss of my Gram, I had a dear friend and mentor at Hope College who spent time with me, normalizing my shock, understanding my many emotions and explaining grief in ways that helped me heal. One day he told me how he had seen a client who had set the table for themselves and their spouse for nearly two years after the loss of their spouse. I was surprised at the way Jim talked about this and then explained, “that might be a little on the extreme side of grief, but we continue to have relationship with our person even after they’ve died.” It brought tremendous comfort to me, as I was furious that people were referring to my Gram as “she was…” almost instantly. Jim further explained that the relationship means talking about them, remembering, telling the stories, acclimating the loss into our “new normal.”

There are cases, (often exaggerated on tv or movies) that involve people suffering mental illness and believing their person is still alive and with them. This is not what I am referring to regarding continued relationship. If you are someone struggling to decipher between the two in the midst of loss, please seek a professional grief therapist to support you. Grief is such hard work….

The relationship that Carl has with Ellie even after her death feels healthy, though still gut-wrenching in its physical loss. But he also carries her with him and ultimately learns how to channel that into a profound relationship with Russell. I so love how she is carried on in Carl’s present, as I have seen countless others do as well.

One last example….

In Frozen 2, we find Anna, desperate to protect the relationship that has evolved with her sister Elsa after enduring a tragic loss of their parents and even lonelier grief process for them both in the first Frozen. As Elsa now chooses to follow her own path, Anna finds herself again enduring heartbreak. First, the loss of Olaf, her trusted friend, then also believing Elsa has perished. Below is a clip of the haunting song she sings, willing herself toward, “the next right thing.” It is profound to me, a mirror of the many hours I have listened to those left breathless following a loss. I’ve heard from many clients how it is “exactly right” in describing the pain, profound heartbreak and will it requires to keep going after one we love deeply has died.

For me, that “next right thing,” the ability to keep going in the midst of loss, are many of our hardest moments – unthinkable really. Also for me, is the reality that God is the only way anyone is able to take another step. He is the voice inside that somehow compels us to get up, take another step, take another breath and continue one after another. That is not to force God’s provision on any, rather, it is simply my truth.

Whether you are rolling eyes about my “deep Disney connections,” have thought some of these yourself, find yourself facing grief or are just trying to summon the courage to take another breath, let me remind you of just a couple things:

  1. Love will in some way, at least on this side of heaven, involve loss. I have heard the quote, “grief is the cost of great love.” If we want to experience deep, connected love, then we are at risk of great heartbreak. Jesus also tells us though, “33 I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 God promises that this pain will not have the last word for those who love and seek him. (Praise be to God!)
  2. God created us with the ability to persevere, because he is WITH US. (Not just in the good, but in the unthinkably hard.)
  3. Grief is a marathon, not a sprint. Mourning is grief that is actively moving in some direction. Remember who you are, whose you are, while in the messy, crazy-making process. God knows the days, the moments, the breaths that are so hard to take…
  4. “When you pass through the waters,
        I will be with you;
    and when you pass through the rivers,
        they will not sweep over you.
    When you walk through the fire,
        you will not be burned;
        the flames will not set you ablaze.” Isaiah 43:2
  5. Lean on friends, family, your roots and if you are willing and able, the God of the Universe who loves you deeply. Allow others to carry you, whether that is a grief therapist, a friend who opens the door and wipes your tears after you’ve held things together for awhile. A pastor, or support group. You were never meant to endure alone…
  6. Stay in today, or even in this one hour. One step, then another. Take a bite of something, even if you are not hungry. A sip of tea, one phone call or a shower. One thing at a time. You see, one thing can add up to another and another and another. In time, Spring will come again, you may breathe just a bit easier and you will be able to carry your loved one with you into whatever comes next.

I am praying for you as you grieve a loss of many kinds. You are not alone.

Both/And

xoxo

What we can learn from Ariel, Ursula, shipwrecks, grief and Jesus.

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(Part 1 – Disney series)

Can I start very candidly?

I hardly know where to start when I think about writing about Disney, Disney movies and how these come together in my day to day…and yet, that’s probably because for me, it all blends together – my interests, my work, family and Jesus (rarely in that order).

I seem to talk about all of them together in whatever way or however I am speaking, so I suppose writing about them all together will not be that different.

I wanted to start by telling you, this fascination and joy with Disney probably began with our family trip (see last post) and then my first Disney movie at age 8. I don’t remember a ton of movies from my childhood, but goodness, for some reason my first was an instant favorite. We went to see the Fox and the Hound in 1981 and I was an fan! An orphaned fox, the cutest pup and all the emotions building to their unlikely friendship. I went home and named my own stuffed fox and dog, “Todd and Copper,” replaying their adventures all over our house. Many of the Disney classics had been released long before and most were still in the Disney “vault” as I grew up, but the seeds of curiosity, love and story had been firmly planted in my being.

I remember being absolutely horrified at Bambi, the very idea of little Bambi being orphaned was unthinkable to my sensitive heart. Still, the joy of Thumper and Flower made me smile and this movie too was cataloged as beautiful in my brain. We watched some others as I grew up – The Parent Trap, Swiss Family Robinson…I loved them all. I couldn’t get enough. The Wonderful World of Disney was on Sunday nights, always a staple along with a huge bowl of popcorn. FOND memories….

Around the beginning of 9th grade, we had moved to our current city, changed schools and church. We began attending Fellowship and met friends all around us. I also got a job at a local kids’ book store, called, “Pooh’s Corner.” My manager, Lisa, had befriended me a couple years before as I browsed the original, “Pooh’s Corner bookstore” at a mall about 45 minutes from our house. My love for Disney continued, along with a developing love for books. Lisa was instrumental in my self esteem, my own acceptance as she modeled those same things in how she treated me.

Around that same time, the Disney Studios released, “The Little Mermaid.” My cousin Pam took me to see it and I was thunderstruck…I was at an age where I believed in things like “love at first sight,” was completely enamored with auburn hair (this is an upcoming blog post, I am sure) and LOVED the music. I played the cassette over our speaker system at Pooh’s every time I could, belted it out in my room when that cassette was released for purchase and quickly deemed Ariel, “the best Disney princess, EVER.”

The release of The Little Mermaid is viewed by many historians as the beginning of “The Disney Renaissance era,” from 1989-1999. Though I am not by any stretch, as knowledgeable as these historians, I can tell you that for me, this era solidified my love, fascination and identity related to “loving Disney.” In my mind, I related to Ariel. I believed that I “should have been born with red hair,” also naively hoped that “my prince would show up, poof, we’d fall in love and live with Jesus, happily ever after.”

One of the biggest connections I felt though was pure freedom and a sense of lightness when I could get in someone’s pool. (Maybe this is how mermaids feel?) It was a spot of freedom from the complications of cerebral palsy. I DREAMED of life IN the water. I thought she was so brave (and a bit crazy) to defy her father, seek her own path and oh, her voice….

There are a lot of lessons that I learned from Ariel, her friends and family, some I continue to learn into my adulthood and add to with the release of the live-action version of The Little Mermaid last year. Here are a few, in no particular order.

  1. Don’t be afraid to be a “help.” Be safe, yes, but also quick to assist as needs arise.
  2. Be curious – “whoozits and whatzits galore, you want thingamabobs? I got 20…” I think Ariel (both) gave a great vison of leaning into the the things that bring us awe and curiosity. For me, this translates to the ways God has created each of us with interests, passions and curiosities, the nudging of the Holy Spirit to become those God-gifted versions of ourselves.
  3. Be aware of everything around you. As I grew up, I became more and more aware of the parts of Ariel that concerned me. As I often do with movies, I find myself thinking or speaking out loud, “why are you going in there, down there, through there, etc?! Don’t you see (or FEEL) the danger??” I am well aware that if Ariel had listened to the warning signs that screamed as she approached Ursula, the movie might have flopped, but I do think it’s a great talking point to listen, look and pay attention, especially, if something “looks and sounds too good to be true, it just may be.”
  4. Following your heart in the moment may bring more trouble than “a dream come true.” (and we all want “the dream come true.”
  5. Always try to be open-minded and non-judgmental about others. I loved how the current Ariel was brave in saying to her father, “not all humans are bad, father.” He assumed because a human had harmed his wife, that all “are barbarians.” I think both movies did this well, but the more recent Little Mermaid was much more pointed and articulated about this truth.

There are so many to name…including, fish are friends, not food!” Even so, the one that came to me out of the blue, very early in my career has to do with Ursula, shipwrecks and grief.

Do you remember the scene after Ursula secures the trident and grows to a towering monster of the sea? She begins to swirl the water where Eric and Ariel swim, creating a whirlpool from the sea floor up to the surface. As she swirls, long buried shipwrecks begin to rise to the top of the water, bobbing and swaying in the frothy, tumultuous water.

While an intern at Hospice, it occurred to me how an immediate loss was much like Ursula in that scene. Throughout my career, that analogy has become even clearer, especially with a traumatic loss. Subsequently, our past losses (shipwrecks) also rise to the surface as we move through current loss. Over time, this analogy has normalized a lot of loss, trauma and connection. The image allows me to give a framework to how losses, both current and past, connect and impact so many parts of us as we tend to the unwanted path of grief. And though this (probably) was not Disney’s meaning behind that scene with Ursula, shipwrecks and crashing waves, it has been the truest image of grief that I have ever seen.

The newest version of the Little Mermaid gives us deeper messages of acceptance, explanation, strength and grief: The crashing of hope, differences in beliefs, needs and desires; the unexplained loss of many and finally, a deeper understanding allows us a new (again) perspective of grief.

I am grateful for the creativity of animators who create images that give birth to ideas, deeper meaning and understanding. It is a miraculous moment when a therapist gets to assist in those moments of clear understanding and deeper truths inside of us. That image, in my experience, has provided many with a way of understanding and explaining what the magnitude of grief can feel like for some. It is then, that we get to discuss the magnitude of hope, resilience, strength and hope. Sometimes, there are discussions about how Jesus calms the storm, thus settling the water, the size of grief and assists with processing past trauma and loss right beside us.

When it is hard to find helpful words, hope sometimes becomes clear in a picture. Sometimes that picture speaks a thousand words. I pray that your pictures are full of Jesus’s heart and the hope of him, always. I pray for purpose that feeds the creativity that we were born with. And if you are facing Ursula, (the current grief) and shipwrecks (past losses, dreams unrealized, or other past pain), you are not alone. Lean into your support system, reach out for help, know that the God of heaven and earth is with and for you…always.

Psalm 89:8-9

O Lord God of hosts,
    who is mighty as you are, O Lord,
    with your faithfulness all around you?
9 You rule the raging of the sea;
    when its waves rise, you still them.

both/and

xoxo

Even better than Disney?

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(a series on ways that for me, Disney, Jesus and therapy all fit together…)

I took a deep, and I do mean, DEEP breath…the kind that I can feel all the way through my torso. The kind…that would make Mr. B, my choir teacher, so very proud. The plane was landing, I peered out the small window and saw palm trees swaying gently in the sunshine-filled sky, a breeze lulling them into movement, just a bit….

My love and I were there to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary, my 50th birthday and anything else we could possibly celebrate. And yes, THERE was in fact, Walt Disney World. If you know us, then you are probably NOT surprised. If you don’t, well, it is time for a bit of my backstory and my love of Disney, Mickey, the love of all things good and more of Jesus.

I think I was about 5 years old the first time we visited Disney World. My memories are vivid, though few are actually mine. Many have been solidified by pictures of that trip. I clearly remember our stay at the Polynesian, getting to “drive the monorail,” being both scared and mesmerized, developing vivid memories of The Pirates of the Caribbean – arriving in the middle of a battle between the pirate ships, the musky, yet inviting smell of the water, looking up from the boat to see a pirate’s VERY hairy leg hanging off the stone wall above and “YO HO, YO HO….” that I would never forget. The Haunted Mansion – the “ghosts,” an elegant, yet spooky ballroom and organ, graveyards and a terrified man and his shivering dog. Yes, at 5, I was scared at some points and I was also completely smitten with the magic. WDW was indeed a Fantasy land to me. Parades, characters, music, smells and wonder.

My most vivid memories were those of meeting Mickey Mouse. I just loved him. I loved his smile, happiness and was thrilled when I got my own turn to visit with him. We went for a character breakfast at the Crystal Palace, but none held a candle to sweet Mickey for me.

Picking a souvenir was SO HARD! It was such a big decision and I could not decide….my dad still talks about how many gift shops we visited and how my sister and I had to go back to many. Still, I finally settled on a stuffed Mickey and oh goodness, did I love the stuffing out of that one. Once we got home, I was so distraught that I had split Mickey and Minnie up, that my parents had some good family friends pick up the matching Minnie on their trip a few weeks later. That surprise on Christmas was unforgettable.

I can still feel this happiness…
So well-loved. ❤️

We visited again soon after adopting my younger brother, about 3 years later. My brother was searching for Mickey on the runway as the plane landed. I remember the Poly again, the stuffed Donald Duck he treasured and the love of being there once again.

Pure joy! (And what was I doing with my hair?)

There have been a number of trips over the course of my life, the ones with my parents and siblings, the one in college when I had an opportunity to go along with a family I babysat for, another with my best friend, my sister and her husband and then the trips with my husband and eventually, our beloved kids. Throughout my life, my love for Disney, Mickey and Disney World has remained constant. It has been part of my identity for as long as I can remember. I was “Aunt Mickey Mouse” to differentiate me from another “Aunt Stacy” at Camp Geneva and I think, lovingly adopted Mickey and gang as my team. What began for me as a kid (and probably the obligation my parents and so many others feel to let their kids experience Disney as least once, thank you mom and dad!!) has become a true love with a place, a feeling and something I still have difficulty putting an accurate description to.

From my youth, my love for both Disney and Jesus have had defining moments in who I am. Obviously, these are not equal. But, on this trip, I began to see how present my experience of Jesus is, everywhere, even at Disney.

From being a kid truly enamored with the parks, the characters and Mickey himself to an adult Disney lover, researcher and fan for many reasons, it has become so much more than childhood infatuation. It is an awareness of goodness, joy and a sense of returning to those feelings of youth. It is so much more for many, evidenced by increasing social media accounts, blogs and an entire art form that has become related to all things Disney. Our recent trip (just husband and I), had me really listening, watching and becoming aware of a much bigger picture of Disney than most would assume….

There is a sense there, of “all being right with the world – a suspension of “normal stress,” even though it gets traded for the less talked about stress that is, “high Disney expectations that so often go unmet.” Still, Disney’s numbers do not lie. Since its’ opening on October 1, 1971, it is estimated that an average of 58 million visit yearly. For us, not yearly, but as often as possible with a busy life, kids activities, jobs, etc.

Before I write another sentence, let me tell you a couple important details. 1) I am a very glass-half-full person. Not in an avoidant or Pollyanna way, but in a way that continues to evolve as I age. I choose to believe the good. I love the perspective (and sometimes challenge) of seeing the good when it seems to be hidden.) AND…I can sit in the hard, negative or downright difficult. Both/And has become a way of life for me. It is not trite. It is for me, the only way to approach almost everything because nearly everything is multi-faceted. 2) I am very aware of the underbelly that is present with Disney and most other things. It is commercialized, at its core, a business to make money and yes, extremely expensive. I am not avoidant of that awareness either. I again, just choose the good, the joy and positive more than the negative….

That said….

Husband and I arrived to celebrate a few important milestones, to refresh, to be together, and to PLAY at the parks. We appreciate the quality at the resorts, the food and the now familiar joy of being on Disney property. I am not sure how, but they work VERY hard to ensure the cast members are kind, accommodating and will go an extra 10 miles if needed to provide each guest with a magical stay, no matter what. We have experienced this over and over again.

This time, though, I was acutely aware of kindness, even more than fantastic customer service.

This time, around, I chose to use a wheelchair, which is not my everyday experience. I typically use a wheelchair when there are long distances and/or uneven terrain.

Such a beautiful memory. ❤️
My longtime friend.

One of the beautiful things about Disney is their awareness and care for those with disabilities. Every time we rolled up to an attraction, big or small, a cast member had made eye contact along with a smile, begun clearing the way, unlatching lane lines or already directing us to a specified accessible entrance, with a lot of care and acceptance. Each conveyed a seemingly natural sense of inclusion, almost as if they didn’t even realize they were doing so. Throughout rides, shows or even getting to our resort, cast members were ready with an additional arm to support, encouragement to “take all the time you need,” or simple issues related to dignity. This meant more to me than I can convey.

I follow many Disney sites and forums, therefore hearing a lot of different experiences. It is my joy to live vicariously through others experiences, especially because the reality of going to WDW as often as I’d like is impossible.

Recently, I read a story, how a single mom was determined to bring her kids to Disney World even though she herself struggled with an anxiety disorder, panic attacks, and acute claustrophobia. As she entered a ride vehicle, her panic set in, and she knew she needed to get off the ride. A cast member saw her get on, then quickly get off with her kids in tow. The CM gently guided her another direction past the line cue, brought her to an extra ride vehicle, then took time to let her practice getting in and out. The cast member then went a further extra mile and offered to go on the ride with her. She (the CM) pointed out the hidden exits throughout the ride in order to help her keep the claustrophobia at bay, as well as hidden ride details and a few distractions. As this brave, strong Mom relayed the story in the forum, you could almost hear her tears of appreciation and changed perspective, because a cast member was so infinitely kind.

Another recent story told of another single mom, bringing her sweet daughter, who was in her last few weeks of life due to a brain tumor. The mom explained how when they finally got their turn to see Anna and Elsa, she told Elsa about her daughter’s joy and devotion. The cast member assigned to help then closed the line, proceeded to assist with a bigger photo shoot just for this mom and daughter. The mom shared that her daughter had since passed away, but these pictures meant so very much to her in the gut-wrenching throes of grief. I am not sure if either cast member is on that forum or if they are aware of the life-changing things that they provided for these two exceptionally brave women and their kids.

My experiences are not nearly that profound. And they were beautiful…

As we boarded Soarin’, I was seated next to a woman who was terrified of heights. During our preflight safety check, she was going back and forth in fear, “I need to get off” then her grown daughters asked her to stay. “Is it really high?” she asked husband and I with wide, fear-filled eyes. Husband was so reassuring to her, explained the mechanics. “I think you will be sorry if you don’t try” he gently told her and I was so proud of him. Still as the ride began, her body went rigid next to me. “Oh SHIT,” she exclaimed, eyes closed tightly. I leaned over, covered her white-knuckled hand with mine. “If you want to hold my hand you can..” I whispered. Then I began to quietly narrate the scenery before us. “Now we are dipping low over a river, near some kayaks…” she opened her eyes just a bit, whispered, “ok, I like this…

Then we swooped up, over a mountain, said hello to a hang glider on the screen, then soared over a grove of orange trees. Smells of fresh citrus filled our nostrils. Then is was ocean waves, dessert wind gusts and the streets of Disneyland on the screen…all the while I whispered, she gripped my hand and we settled back on the floor. She smiled at me, her eyes giving all her thanks. I squeezed her hand and softly encouraged her to “find a good margarita if you like them.” “Oh, I will!!” She was gone in a flash. I was thankful to have been in that seat, at THAT moment.

My own experiences, held their own life-changing beauty. I sat in that wheelchair as my husband selflessly pushed, helped and purely loved me for many many miles in the parks. Countless times, cast members were right there to assist if we needed it. And then there were a few meetings with Mickey himself.

You may find it silly that going to get my picture with Mickey Mouse as a 50 year old woman was important to me. That’s entirely OK. But watching the cast members care, listening to the joy of each person who got to walk into any characters presence and hearing how much it meant to so many based on the lines to get there, tells me that I’m not the only one.

By the time it was our turn, husband and I had already established a routine. As the people ahead were getting their pictures, we pushed the wheelchair off to the side and then made work of getting up to visit Mickey & Minnie ( or whomever.)

As soon as the previous group had left the queue, Mickey turned his attention to me. There was such a gentleness and care as Mickey and Minnie both would take my hand and walk me over to the center spot. There was love and support that came through from the heart behind that costume. It was palpable and happened time and time and time again.

Mickey and Minnie, they were so kind!

My adult brain is very aware of what is happening with a person behind the costume, but with each picture was the awareness that for at least 40 years this character has meant a lot to me. 

One of my favorite quotes from Maya Angelou says, ” I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Disney is SO masterful at capturing the feelings - the music, the joy, the familiar, the wonder, (even the smells!) that bring us all back to a place we remember, if not in our actual memory, than in a deep, primal part of our brains. As I watched all those people in the park, seeking this feeling, enjoying the stability and sameness that Disney somehow manages, I was aware again, how we are all looking for the same thing in real life. We want things to be unchanging. We want joy and goodness. We want to be seen. We are all moved by kindness. We want wonder…we want to remember how all of it feels, at least I think so.

Yes, a lot of that can be found at Disney, not all the .time though. Husband and I giggled quite a few times with empathy for young parents who just wanted that sweet picture with their child and Buzz Lightyear, with Minnie or with a their favorite snack for their Instagram. And yet, as it happens, kids (and adults) get overstimulated, tired of waiting, hungry or sometimes, something we just don’t know. We all struggle with something, even at Walt Disney World.

It would be so easy for me to make Disney some sort of idol, even inadvertently. While I love so many things about The Walt Disney Company: the atmosphere, imagination and overall goodness found in the ability to experience a “fantasy” while on vacation, it is just that, a means to get away from “real life.” While Disney allows me (and so many others) to chase the feeling that we want to hold on to forever, there is something so much bigger.

Nothing in my life is separate from or more important than Jesus Christ. While Disney is my “joy,” a place and ideas where I find sheer delight, it always ends, at least for that vacation.

Jesus is unchanging, forever and ever. Romans 8: 38-39 says, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

While it is a fantastic vacation at Disney and we absolutely CAN find moments of experiences that reflect all the good, kind, joyful characteristics of Jesus EVERYWHERE, the God of Heaven and Earth IS all of those things and SO MUCH MORE! He is LOVE. He is LIGHT. He is PERFECT. He is so much more than our best experiences, even when we feel the characteristics in small amounts everywhere.

We experienced all kinds love and goodness while on vacation. As with so many people and places in life, there are so many reflections of Jesus: in our families and most intimate friendships, relationships, nature, artwork, creativity, skills, hobbies and abilities. It is ALL created to reflect and glorify the creator, even how we experience feelings, people and joy at Disney. I can experience a reflection of my Savior in everything, and I do. There is never a shortage of things to be in awe of. And nothing deserves my awe, my love and devotion more than He does. NOTHING compares to the journey and relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ.

In speaking with my friend and pastor, Ross, he told me about the Biblical idea of “Kal Vehomer.” In his words, “It’s a phrase that literally means “light & heavy” and it’s an argument that moves from the lesser to the greater.  It’s usually translated as “how much more,”  Jesus uses it when he talks about parents knowing how to give good gifts…and so “how much more” our Heavenly Father does too.” He went on to say, ” if Disney knows how to see & honor & love people — and to create an atmosphere of goodness — how much more does Jesus see and love and how much more does God know how to create a world saturated with goodness in the kingdom come.” I am so appreciative of this dear friend’s perspective, editing help and wisdom. I couldn’t have said this better myself. It is EXACTLY what I was hoping to say.

My love, thank you for showing me Jesus in all the ways as we spent this time together. Your care, joy and sacrifice on my behalf, are not unnoticed. You astound me every day. I am humbled to be given your love for this lifetime.

Every day with you is a gift.

To each and every cast member who goes above and beyond, who work diligently to provide dignity, time, support and happiness to those of us who come and take this place for granted. Your efforts don’t go unnoticed either.

My Jesus, thank you for the sunshine and swaying palm trees. Thank you for opportunities to go and experience the magnificent artistry of Imagineers, creativity, visual and audible wonders of music, shows, food, fireworks and so much more. Your attention to detail so that we may experience joy is so, so extravagant. Thank you for the laughter of kids and adults alike, the way you are the one who has created wonder at all. Thank you that you are the true author of our stories, your presence in the good and evil, the deep down fear, battles, redemption and love. I pray that through all things, even Disney, you continue to use it to show us who you are.

Both/And

xoxo

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

PS I am hoping in the next few posts to write about some of the common analogies that I use in counseling using some of the poignant moments Disney has created that reflect to me humanity, Jesus and therapy all together…let’s see how it goes!

What is it that really moves you?

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For a recent movie night with my husband and kids, I chose E.T. My kids, somehow, had NEVER seen this classic all the way through. I am still a bit shocked by that fact, even though we have certainly remedied that error. But as I sat watching this movie that was fairly formative for me, I could feel my heart squeezing, tearing and soaring as if it was the first time watching this endearing, complex and ultimately familiar story of love and loss.

I hope this is not a spoiler, but the bond between Elliot and E.T. is both beautiful and heart-breaking. It speaks of love and connection to me every single time I’ve watched it – with humor, perseverance, hope and the painfulness of goodbye. While every bit of that moves me, the thing that sends my heart soaring is the swell of the music while the boys, ET and their bikes rise to the sky. It is their laughter, freedom and surprise that truly stirs me. And it is their laughter, freedom and joy that awakens again in my brain this many years since ET’s release in 1982. 42 years ago! What is it that keeps us connected to a person, memory or event that so moves us?

According to multiple sources, an average of 35,000 people visit Walt Disney World each day. Each. day of the year! Whether you are one of those or you are one who is determined to avoid Disney at all costs, there is something that spurs true Disney fans on to journey to Florida, California or other parks across the world, over and over again. There is pure delight for young and old as they board a Doom Buggy and hear the opening strains of Grim Grinning Ghosts. When Splash Mountain closed last January to make way for Tiana’s Bayou Adventure, hundreds packed the Magic Kingdom for one last ride, some waiting 3 hours in line or over 3 hours just to see the final run of the iconic ride.

Again, I wonder, what is it, that draws one person or another to have such an emotional connection to a place or event? The ones that are obvious are the weddings, baptisms, graduations and yes, funerals. But what about the things that are personal to us and us alone?

I can touch the triangles in the quilt I had made of my kids baby cloths and be transported to their baptisms, their days of little league, rec soccer, or even everyday events that are stored deep in my memory. That quilt is one of my favorite gifts to myself this past year. Rather than store all their old stuff in a bin in the storage room, I now can wrap myself in these moments and share the stories with them again and again. “Tell me about this one, Mom.” “Oh, I remember that one!” These moments flood me with the joy and love of family while the days seem to fly by.

Perhaps it is the strain of a song that brings you back to a place or time or like me, a movie that moves us to feel and remember.

I loved crooning Rainbow Connection and Top of the World in music class with Ms. Crawford in elementary music class.

When the bagpipes began at our wedding 20 years ago, it was a moment. We’ve heard from many of our loved ones what a beautiful moment that was…and yet, I am sure that not many, (other than our parents and ourselves) would know the name or even strains of the song. Yet, when it comes on because it is in one of my playlists, I am instantly transported back to standing in the back of the church, clutching my dad’s elbow and locking eyes with my love where he stood waiting for me.

I am nearly every Sunday, moved to tears as I worship. I feel something deep, deep down that almost cannot be described. Recently, our church did a four week series visiting the decades of the churches history, including the worship. Music has always been a big part of my relationship with Jesus. The Tree Song (anyone remember this one as well?), El-Shaddai and Awesome God bring me straight back to the wonder of my kid and pre-teen years. Hold Me Jesus, The Great Adventure and Ancient of Days recall my deepening relationship with Jesus while classic hymns and current offerings add to my of understanding worship and the love of Jesus through gifted musicians. I could almost make a timeline of my life based on certain worship songs and return to the time and place God was working in my heart – and I am stirred.

Even though I am NOT a lover of snow, I drew in a breath yesterday as I left the house, opened the garage and stood instantly in the middle of a snow globe. Huge, fast flakes covered our drive and lawn, untouched by dirt, other cars, footprints or anything. Daughter whispered, “even you, can’t be mad at that…” How right she was. Even when my muscles tense and my heart is grumpy because it too, is cold, I cannot deny being moved by the beauty, even briefly.

Maya Angelou said, “We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”

Why is that? It is sheer wonder on both sides, the process and the result. What if we lived that way all the time – allowing ourselves to be moved, stirred and alive in both? Could we notice: The colors of the fall and how they got there? The joy of a Christmas bike ride and the mechanics of bodies that can? A warm cinnamon roll cookie made by my daughter. The conversation with a beloved friend, ending in a hug and deeper understanding, the way the horses gallop to the fence when I bike to Windmill, then gently let me pet their silky noses. Finally, the way I walk into physical therapy with a bit of anxiety, pain and frustration with my sore ankle and leave encouraged and grateful from the help of my wise physical therapist. I am moved by sunsets AND sunrise, embrace the pang of sadness because I finished a fantastic book. I am moved as I continue to learn and become a therapist, never losing the wonder at the trust of walking intense, beautiful journeys.

And the reason I am moved at all? Because the IMMOVABLE is so moved to love me at all. I sometimes imagine his glee in creating it all – giraffes, trees, tea, dogs, my loves. Hyacinths so fragrant that I can’t breath in enough, (lilacs too, for that matter,) being able to witness the success and accomplishments all around me. The deep belly laugh of my love when my daughter delivers a witty comment when least expected and the hug I get from my mom just when I need one. The perfect bite of lemon meringue pie that transports me to my Gram’s table, the tiniest sight of a rainbow in the middle of a blizzard….

Psalm 92: 1-2, 4-5 says,

1 It is good to praise the Lord
    and make music to your name, O Most High,
2 proclaiming your love in the morning
    and your faithfulness at night,
For you make me glad by your deeds, Lord;
    I sing for joy at what your hands have done.
5 How great are your works, Lord,
    how profound your thoughts!

I could go on and on in praise and thankfulness. But truly, I wonder, what moves you?

Perhaps it is grandkids, or your pet, your artwork or your favorite band. Perhaps it is a beautiful requiem or holding your loved ones favorite shirt after they’ve passed. I think the key is to allow ourselves to be moved at all. Do we take the time to notice all the things the CAN move us or do we miss it? No judgements, just thoughts….

I pray you find sheer delight and wonder in all the everyday ways in which God delights in you. I pray you KNOW, that you are knit together in such a way that you are INTENDED to be moved, over and over and over by your creator. And I pray that if you are struggling, the wonder and movement can be held with and for you until you can find it again for yourself.

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine; according to his power that is at work within us.” Ephesians 3:20

Both/And

xoxo

Longing for bravery in the new year and a few lessons we can learn from Elsa…

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The heaviness he shared felt nothing short of oppressive…a 100 pound weight blanket that paralyzed in every way. He shared all the methods and advice he’d been given over a lifetime of fighting and I do mean, FIGHTING depression. From all the adages that well-meaning friends, family and professionals advise: “eat healthy, exercise, journal, pay attention to negative thoughts, mindfulness, prayer, meditation, yoga…” There was also deeper advice, involving medication, invasive brain treatment and years of therapy….

My heart breaks as I listen intently. I both BELIEVE in ALL of that true and well- researched advice and I am again understanding how depression can feel, paralyzing a person’s ability to help themselves. All I can do in these breathtakingly sad and difficult moments is be near: witness and empathize and validate the sheer anguish that IS everyday living with depression.

A video popped up on my feed yesterday in which Kate Bowler was interviewing Lisa Damour. The title of the video said, “How saying, that sucks, I’m sorry has spiritual power. (See link below!) https://youtu.be/mHQGCNeBx7k?si=DwOX89K_BwW5Iy7S

Don’t we all just want someone to be WITH US when something really hurts, agonizes or aggravates?

It is still, after 23 years in the field of counseling, an amazing moment when I am allowed to sit with clients in the hardest, most painful parts of life. The moment when I remind myself to stay silent and after the right pause in the telling of one’s story, I can just utter, “That must be so hard, I am so sorry,” or, “that sucks…” It IS spiritual. I can physically see sighs of relief, shoulders loosen or facial expressions ease as I listen and acknowledge each person’s lived experience….

Losses that feel so final that one doesn’t know if they can gather the strength to take another breath. A cancer diagnosis that in a swoop, changes an entire families’ future plans or years of infertility, treatments and silent suffering amidst a world of women who seem to easily get pregnant; and the slow, cruel loss of a lifetime of dreams about motherhood. These are just a few this year, that I have the honor of being with.

To be entirely honest, I am often torn between the helplessness so many feel, the responsibility in my calling and the sheer audacity of hope that I am allowed to witness each and every day.

My grandfather died nearly 30 years ago, about two years after my grandma. Both died very suddenly and I don’t think I had a clue what grief was, mercifully, until then. I know that I had not fully processed the loss of Gram, when I received a phone call while at work (my parents were on vacation) that my Aunt had found Grandpa at his home after what appeared to be a stroke.

The days and weeks to follow were a blur. Somewhere in those new, raw and unreal days of loss, I heard a song lyric about, wishing you a brave new year. I clung to that phrase, not at all sure how to be brave and hoping it was possible, to indeed have, a brave new year.

That phrase has stayed with me ever since….both the undeniable, unstoppable hope in that wish and the awareness, deeper over time how monumentally hard it is to feel, be or hope to be brave. From the time I heard that lyric to the present is a journey from finding my own bravery to helping others find it also.

What comes to mind with the word, brave? I threw out a small poll and here are some of the responses I received:

“Bravery and courage are interchangeable to me. It’s being fearful of stepping forward, but doing it despite fear and WITH the fear.

But the thing is, the fear you started the steps with, never makes it to the end point with you.”

-JB

“Brave is an adjective. To be brave is to do or be something that you never believed possible, to beat the odds that are stacked against you; to continue growing amidst challenges and obstacles, to choose to get up in the morning when it seems there’s nothing to even wake up for, to make it through the day, to forgive, to do all the things that in your mind can’t be done. Bravery and faith are intertwined, as they are both taking the first step, even when you can’t see the whole staircase.” -EM

“To Overcome, not all heroes wear capes.” – MM

“Fear because usually when you are brave you are doing something that scares you or gives you fear” -EWM

For me, there are many that come to mind. There is the Disney movie starring feisty Merida, of course. There are so many inspiring stories from all over social media. There are those who currently, as I write, are somehow bravely surviving in war-torn parts of the Middle East and beyond. I think of a pastor I began listening to 2 years ago who has recently had a recurrence of cancer in his brain. I think of how Amy Purdy, who inspires me, starting with her appearances on Dancing with the Stars.

But do you know what else? My perspective of brave has shifted. The images above ARE so brave…and so is the family who is advocating for mental health awareness following the unexpected death by suicide of a beloved friend, daughter, son or parent. Those who are quietly coming to sessions, learning to feel all the hard feelings and sharing their story safely.

Brave IS the person who DOESN’T give in to the temptation to relieve their pain by attempting suicide. Brave IS showing up day after day in the midst of bullying, holding on to your own beliefs and not giving into the ever-present lies of worthlessness. Brave IS saying, “I am not going to drink, smoke or hurt myself” when it seems so much simpler to do so to ease pain. Brave is every day -choices to live out faith, beliefs and boundaries when there is so much pushback…

Brave is continuing to fight whatever fight you are fighting: a minute, hour, day, week, month or year at a time. Brave is listening to that strong voice inside you that guides you to the next right thing. Maybe that means relinquishing something we love dearly this year, dream or part of because you know it is right. (By the way, I believe, that the right thing is rarely the easy thing and that in itself is brave. Maybe that is choosing your own need or right thing amidst a sea of opinions, advice and pressure from all around.

It is BRAVE to change career paths amidst choices and already laid paths leading to a “safe” spot, but the gnawing inside you is unable to forget a different opportunity or idea.

Have you watched Frozen 2? Elsa, Anna, Kristoff and friends are busy in what seems the “happy ever after” following Frozen. Yet, Elsa is stirred by an unknown, beckoning voice. She tries so hard to ignore the voice, yet, in, Into the Unknown, she cannot not hear it. (Link to the song here. https://youtu.be/l1uoTMkhUiE?si=oP-FUbE-5jcwVLy9 )

You can hear her internal struggle between both wanting to be content and afraid to let people down or change and then…the brave, heart-swelling moments of finding herself and her truth. Later, as she comes to a watershed moment in her quest to understand the calling – she is earnest, passionate and brave in seeking.

Maybe you agree or don’t, but to me, Show Yourself (https://youtu.be/md7dK5-qvHc?si=oUicMlnS5TMG5wFN) is a picture of embracing the Holy Spirit in some ways. The brave, brave effort of seeking truth and the singular drive toward hope is astounding.

Maybe our job with bravery is to see it in all things and understand that it really is breath-taking. Getting up in the morning for some, is the BRAVEST thing. Believing in yourself, so brave. Praying and holding on…I believe all of heaven is moved in this brave, holy effort.

Maybe…just maybe, we need to slow ourselves, offer so much more tenderness and earnestly seek the ways we and others around us are profoundly brave in this next year. Change IS brave. Big and so small. Hope is brave, always. Trying, is so brave! Surrender and tenacity and when we need each, is ridiculously brave.

Give yourself permission to change the way you experience brave this year. Don’t buy into the January hype that may say the only way to success is weight-loss, new goals and resolutions. Try Softer, as Aundi Kobler’s book says. (If you need a beautiful read, that one is it!) Kinder, softer slower.

Bravery is all around you. I believe in you and I know and believe in who Jesus is. Always.

1 Cor. 16:13