Life Unexpected

At the start of the Advent Season, I came across a concept that has stuck with me over the past 25 days leading up to Christmas.  I was reading Scott Daniels Advent Devotional, "Let Earth Receive Her King," and on the first day he mentions civil rights advocate, Cornel West, declaring these words in regards to his work in race relations, "No. No.  No.  I'm not optimistic or pessimistic.  That's an attitude.  I'm a prisoner of Hope."  Daniels goes on to challenge us to do the same.  To live as people who have been so captured by the hope of Jesus that we can't escape it.  To believe that the God who called us, whose led us this far, will be faithful to finish the work he started.  To be people who simply can't despair. To be honest, it's easier to lean into the despair.  Whether it's choosing to imprison ourselves in the disappointment or endlessly counting all the losses we've felt over and over again, despair is often the easier choi

Yesterday my alarm went off and I did what I do most mornings.  I hit snooze, closed my eyes, only to open them 5 minutes later and begin to scroll through social media before I would actually get out of bed and spend time with Jesus.  I happened to pull up Facebook first and at the top of my feed was an "on this day" post, reminding me that today was the day we first met Biruk in Ethiopia, a day that literally changed the trajectory of our lives.  There was a sweet picture of Nate holding this precious 5 month old baby who would in the next two months officially become a part of our forever family.  I sat there reminded of God's faithfulness and then began to scroll through the feed searching to see what others were talking about on May 27, 2020.  That's when I saw the name "George Floyd" appear over and over again and as I began to read, discovered that once again, a black man's life had been taken in way that left you speechless, sick, and angry at al

I remember the day like it was yesterday.  I was with my Mom in Florida, on an annual trip that had become essential to surviving the disappointment that seemed to seep deep into my soul, due to infertility.  The call came from Nate, who asked me if I was sitting down.  Two seconds later, I heard the voice of our social worker and knew this was the moment.  "You've been matched!  And he is so cute!"  I couldn't believe it.  After a long journey of infertility that led to a 25 month adoption wait...the deep disappointment that had taken up residence for far too long, had finally broken.  Joy came that day in the face of a little boy whose name we would learn meant, "Blessing." Today marks 7 years since we got the call that we had been matched with Biruk.  In the adoption world, we call it our "referral-aversary," but to me, it was a day that reminded me at my core, hope is never lost and God is always faithful, even when we can't see it.

At the end of January, I found myself incredibly sick.  I had just gone through a crazy season of unexpected transition at work, and I was wiped out.  It was a week before the Super Bowl, and my team, THE Kansas City Chiefs, had finally made it in and I was planning one epic party with my youth group.  What started with a 12 day flu, continued into 4 weeks of pneumonia and 2 more weeks of bronchitis.  Needless to say, I found myself in a new normal, where rest was essential, time at home was the norm, and work couldn't consume. It's kind of ironic, because a week before I got sick, I had preached in church about "getting off the bean bag of comfort," and 7 days later...literally couldn't get off the bean bag!  If you know me at all, you know that rest is usually not my mode of operation, and squeezing out every moment I can in 24 hours is (I blame my mom, who is just like me, which is why I love being around her!). It may seem weird, or maybe even over the t

Almost 5 years ago, I remember standing in front of the church with a smile as wide as Texas, hopes and dreams bursting at the seams, expectant of what God was going to do, and trying to capture it all with a selfie.  We had just taken a leap of faith, left a 12 year ministry streak in a place we had come to call home, and moved ourselves to a place that was familiar and foreign all at the same time.  I remember looking at Nate and saying, "Can you believe we get to Pastor here?" We had found ourselves on the campus of Eastern Nazarene College, a college that had not only educated us, but had shaped us profoundly.  It was the place where we had learned the best life is a surrendered life and where God had begun to speak loud and clear about what he had created us to do.  It wasn't just about being on campus again that excited us either.  We were going to get to work for one of our college mentors in a church that was smack dab in the middle of city that desperately nee