Category: heart

Making a Difference is Easier Than You Think

Some people’s passions lead them to headline making, world changing careers.  

Most of us spend our days in smaller ways. 

And we often feel like our tiny efforts create barely a ripple in the giant ocean of human experience.

But I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to be brilliant, rich, beautiful or perfect to make a difference in someone’s life.

All you have to do is care.

Compassionate companionship is a gift.  

Learning to sit with another heart in joy and sorrow, victory and pain, sunshine and darkness all the while assuring her you will not leave-no matter what–is priceless.

Think about it:  People pay thousands of dollars for a stranger to listen to their heart cries.

Sure, sometimes folks need a professional to help them untangle complex emotions, underlying mental health issues and substance abuse problems.  But often, at root, they are simply lonely with no trusted companion for life’s journey.

Who do you know that needs a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on, a heart to affirm that his or her heart is worthy of love?

Choose to reach out.  

Be a friend.  

Make a difference.  

 

To-make-a-difference-in-someones-life flower elder hand younger hand

Stick Around: Help Another Heart Hold Onto Hope

When grief was fresh, the pain was raw and my heart was oh, so tender, I desperately needed a safe space to talk about the nitty-gritty of child loss.

And I found it in online bereaved parents’ groups.  

I’m so thankful that they exist, that they are maintained by people who give time and energy to keeping them safe and that-for the most part-participants are kind, compassionate and encouraging.

There is something I’ve noticed now that I’ve been here awhile.  Many parents tend to drop out of active participation when they get a little further along in their journey. 

I understand completely that time, plus the work grief requires, often means a heart has less need for these groups.  It’s not that grief dissipates, it’s simply that we get stronger and learn to carry it a little better.

I also know that grief groups can become  Echo Chambers and wear on a heart after a time.

We all need a break.

But can I take a moment to encourage those among us who have learned a little, lived a little and walked longer in the path of child loss to stick around?

Newly bereaved parents need to know that they CAN survive.

Your presence-even if you don’t have wonderful words of wisdom-speaks volumes. 

When someone comments and shares that her loss was 5, 7, 10 years ago, it helps my heart hold onto hope. 

Because if YOU can make it, maybe I can too.  

buckets to put out flames

Repost: The Loudest Silence

No matter how busy or how noisy or how frantic, in the middle of my chest there is a quiet place that holds space for my missing child.

It was true last year in the craziness of my mother’s health crisis and it’s been so very, very true this past eight weeks full of anxiety, discomfort, challenge and unbelievable stress.  

Read the rest here:  The Loudest Silence

We’ve Got To Do Better: Making Ministry the Heart of Church

I am not among those who have given up on the local church.

But I AM critical of the way we in the U.S. –and especially the Southern U.S. -do church.

Let’s be honest. 

Most of us go to church because it makes us feel good, refuels our spirits for the week ahead and is a safe spot to park our kids for a few hours respite from the demands of parenthood.

An added bonus is that sometimes we get to contribute to a cause, a mission or a personal need without having to get TOO involved.

So we come away feeling pretty good about who we are, what we believe and how much we “sacrifice” for others and the Kingdom.

But this is not what Christ came for folks.

He didn’t come so that we can have a weekly club meeting, soothe our souls and shut out the world.  He came so that desperate hearts on the fringe could draw near.

He rent the veil so that no one who trusts His finished work is excluded.

Not even the messy and imperfect.

Not even the poor or unlovely or slightly crazy.

We have got to do better.

We have got to make church a place where people who have no hope feel like they are welcome.  We have got to reach out and reach down and reach across and pull those hurting hearts inside.

I know (believe, me, I know!) that it takes more energy than you want to exert.  It takes more flexibility than a crammed-full schedule can allow.  It takes more time and more emotional investment than any of us really want to spend.

But this is what Christ came for.

He came to expose the barriers religious people had erected between God and man. 

He came to make a way where there was no way.

How welcome are the truly broken to our house of worship? Do we want to see their pain, entertain their questions and offer hope that includes walking the road alongside them and giving support for the long haul?

Jesus came to heal the broken.

Healing takes time and resources. It requires personal commitment to those God brings into our lives. It is messy and can’t be boiled down to a formula or pamphlet.

Jesus has invited is to be His hands and feet.

Will we accept the invitation?

christ has no body but yours teresa of avila

If I Could Sing One Song This Would Be It: “Love the Broken”

I definitely don’t have a solo quality voice.

I can carry a tune but it’s best carried mixed in with others in a choir so the occasional missed note is barely noticeable. 

But if I was granted the ability to belt out a single song and have it broadcast far and wide, this would be it:  “Love the Broken”.

Not, “Love the Lovely” or “Love the Sexy” or even “Love the One Who Loves You Back”.

Nope.  

It would definitely be, “Love the Broken”.  

do justly love mercy

This is the song I’ve learned the hard way.  It’s the song that’s been burned into my heart and mind and soul and spirit.  It’s the song that resonates in any language, across time and across miles.

It’s the song every single heart can understand.

Because we have all been broken at one time or another.  

And we have all desperately needed love at one time or another.

I’m really not that great at many things.  I’m a decent cook, a mediocre housekeeper, a devoted but probably not up-to-the-highest-standards shepherd, a lazy gardener, and a wish-I-could-follow-directions-better crafter.

But I am a full on, all out, no-holds-barred lover.  

I am unashamed to speak blessing over strangers in public places.  

I will not be silenced by a sheepish glance when my kids wish I’d just stop telling them how very much they fill my heart with so many good things.  

I hug.  I give cheek kisses.  I hold the hand of a person whose heart is breaking just so they know they are not alone.

I believe with my whole heart that at least one verse of the New Song we will sing in Heaven is “Love the Broken”.  

Because isn’t that really what Christ came to do?

His ultimate act of sacrifice was to bring the broken and outcast into the Kingdom.  

He is Hope for the hopeless, love for the unloved, peace for the war weary soul. 

Truth is, I’m going to spend my life on something.

I want to spend it like Jesus.

the one little person you love

Refuse to Cause Pain

I’m a kinder, gentler person than I was before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

It’s a high price to pay to learn to walk more grace-filled through this life.

I’ve come to find out that every heart has a story.  Every heart is carrying a burden.-perhaps not the same as mine, but a burden nonetheless.

And what causes the most pain in this life (next to the burden itself) is when another person runs over my heart without thinking about the burden it may hold inside.

So I have purposed not to do that to other people.

refuse to cause pain

I certainly forget sometimes-in the heat of a moment, in the rush of daily life, when driving behind a car that just won’t go any faster-but it’s becoming a habit more and more.

I try to look-really look-at the person in front of me to see what might be hiding behind her eyes.

Is she a young mom working a retail job and trying to make ends meet?  An older man still working because his Social Security check runs out before the month does?  A teen driver frightened to make that left hand turn across traffic?  Someone fighting addiction or just out of cancer treatment?  A heart that is lonely because she doesn’t have any close friends or a kind voice welcoming her home each day?

The list is endless.

I am committed to offering the tiny bit of life and light I can to each heart I meet.  And that’s how I think about them-as hearts inside fragile bodies-not as obstacles in the way of me accomplishing a task.

I will do my best not to cause pain.

It’s my daily offering.

It honors the price I’ve paid to learn this lesson.

Permission To Grieve

You wouldn’t think we need permission from total strangers, friends and extended family to grieve but many times it feels like we do.

Odd looks, questioning stares and wagging tongues can make a heart doubt whether it’s really OK to do this or that while trying not to fall apart.

Well I’m here to tell you-ignore all that!

You have permission to do whatever it takes to endure this journey as long as you are not harming yourself or others.

grief-is-loves-souvenir

I have all kinds of little things I do to help my heart hold on.

Some of them are quite public and others only I know about.

Either way, it’s no one’s business but mine.  

I do try not to make other people uncomfortable but I draw the line at the place my sanity outweighs their discomfort.  I won’t apologize for utilizing whatever supports keep me keeping on and not giving up.

So if you are worrying more about what other people think than what helps your heart, PLEASE STOP! 

You are free to be who you have to be.

You are free to do what you have to do.

You don’t need anyone’s permission to grieve.  

You have permission to grieve what has been and what feels a little bit lost, but you are not lost. You are right where He has placed you for such a time as this. Walk on. Lift your chin and fix your eyes. This is your remaking. You don't have to explain it all, you don't have to have any answers, and you don't have to hold it together.