REAL – Let's Get REAL Together

Let go

June 17, 2026by 4letsgetrealtogetherLeave a Comment

It’s hard, being back at the hospital, though I’m not the one in the bed this time.

It’s hard, watching her lie there, not the same person from two weeks let alone a few months ago.

It’s hard, coaxing her to do the things she’d previously done independently, navigating things she shouldn’t now.

“Do you think God is punishing me” she shakily whispers–eyes closed, hand cupping her pale furled forehead. My heart breaks for her as I say, “No Mama. He is a good father, a loving, benevolent God. You have done nothing wrong. Your body is just fighting you.”

We’ve all been there. Why is this happening? What did I do? How can He let me suffer like this? I call her pastor on speaker, who also rebukes her misaligned thought.

Some might think this desperate plea is a lack of faith–I reject this as well. Whereas the words may indicate some sort of malice on God’s part, I believe this is an invitation for Him to draw nearer. The realization of our human helplessness. Our parched souls crying out for His super natural intervention when the well is empty.

‘Turn your ear to me,
    come quickly to my rescue;
be my rock of refuge,
    a strong fortress to save me.
Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress;
    my eyes grow weak with sorrow,
    my soul and body with grief.”
Psalm 31:2, 9 NIV

When we are at the point of utter despair, we have maxed out our limit. Our last fingerhold no longer able to bear the weight of the situation. We grasp for something, anything, to rescue us. Alas, we are impatient creatures. Our need for immediacy eclipses all.

I have experienced this in my own journey–more times than I care to admit. It feels like a chasm separates me from Him as I fall further and further into the void. Where are you Lord? Why have you forsaken me? Again, not a condemnation, rather a line cast out into the universe.

And He answers. Every. Single. Time. It may not be in the manner or as expeditiously as we’d like; however, He is there. Waiting to catch you as you release your will and fall into His arms, which have been there the whole time. When it happens, it likely won’t be a cinema-inspired scene, inspirational musical swelling as sunlight floods through the parting clouds. We live IRL.

I started typing hours ago, in between the barrage of “normal” hospital interruptions, and here are the “cliff notes.” There was a push to prematurely discharge her (thankfully not in a life or death situation), but that might bring into context the “is God punishing me” since we truly weren’t outta the woods yet. In come her nurse, case manager, PT–in rapid fire succession, all supporting the decision not to ship her out. We work together, and lo and behold, there’s a “miraculous” shift in the right direction. God is so faithful!

There are many reasons to love Psalm 31. But while reading chapter 2 for the above pulled reference, verse 5 struck me.

“Into your hands I commit my spirit;
deliver me, Lord, my faithful God.”
Psalm 31:5

The words tickled my brain. I’ve heard this before in a different context. I go searching…here’s what I found. Jesus, before His last breath on the cross, said a variation of this as well (Luke 23:46). God incarnate, who was in a life or death situation, after also asking why have you forsaken me, let go and fell into His awaiting arms. He was human. He questioned. Then He committed His spirit unto the Lord. If this doesn’t show us how questioning isn’t a lack of faith, I’m not sure what does.

God is omnipresent, never leaves us, regardless of how many times we may feel separate from Him.

So in my REA/L moment with you today, I’m going to ask you to do something uncomfortable. Let go.

Let go of circumstances that seem out of your control.

Let go of what was so you can receive and rejoice in what is.

Let go of your immediacy expectations and rest in the assurance of His perfect timing.

He’s patiently waiting for you. The process is painful, for you both. Let go, my friend, and let Him.

In Jesus’ name, Amen

Don’t Let Them Take You Out

June 8, 2026June 8, 2026by 4letsgetrealtogetherLeave a Comment

Have you ever been so frustrated that you want to scream? Not a muffle it into a pillow one–I mean an out loud, full volume, no holds barred, elongated blood curdling scream that would likely elicit a concerned neighbor’s 911 call. I only remember doing this once in my life, and it was earlier this year (thankfully I wasn’t at my home because I let it out). Instead of unleashing another (unfortunately I am at home), I’m writing. Call me dramatic if you want, but that’s my current state. Let me paint this picture for you…

Hmmm, where shall I start? I missed the call last week (Tuesday) that Mama was headed to the ER because my phone died–as is blue screen of death followed by black where phone would not turn on. Made appt with Apple’s Genius Bar for next day (Wednesday afternoon). Wednesday morning, I found out about the ER visit when I opened email on my laptop, saw a dozen+ “My Chart” updates, and called my aunt to see what was going on. Mama was released with antibiotics for an UTI. I go to my Apple appointment, and after a couple hours of trying, end up having to buy a new phone (thank goodness I’d done a backup on my PC less than a month ago when I had to replace cracked screen on the now dead phone). Get home several hours later (we missed lunch dealing with all the aforementioned stuff) after having a nice dinner and “resetting,” try to restore new phone via backup, and no dice. Work through tech support via chat and phone, get a case number so Apple can reset my account, which will take approximately three days. Lovely, I am now the proud owner of an expensive dumb smart phone.

On Thursday, Mama goes back to the ER, this time she’s admitted…Friday afternoon. Mind you, I live 4+ hours away. After multiple text conversations with my aunties (aka her sisters), we decide IF she’ll call when the nurses and/or doctors are there, I could manage her care from here. You see, although Mama will tell you she “has all her nuggies,” she’s cognitively impaired…as in, documented by a medical professional, beyond the “normal” age-related memory decline. I have MPOA and advocate on her behalf because she does not have the capacity to do so. And she fights me–on this and so many things. So much so, I’ve had to reframe our relationship, which started with calling her “Mama.”

If you’re keeping up with this page, you may remember me saying my “Mom” died in January–this is to say, my mom-in-love (aka my hubby’s mom). You may think me cruel when I say my birth mother ceased to exist years ago. That’s the only way I can wrap my head around how she’s treated me for decades and still care for her, hence “Mama” was born and became my 30+ hour a week job. Back to the timeline…

The weekend is spent pouring over labs, scans, and anything else I can access trying to piece together for a plan that addresses Mama’s excruciating pain that has landed her in the ER twice in a two day period. No word back from Apple about my account, so I don’t have access to any of my contacts, calendar, and dagnabbit, I’ve now lost my Duolingo streak. The project that I need to work on requires info that Apple has hostage, and Mama is refusing to call me when any nurse and/or doctor visits. I couldn’t even phone a friend to vent because I’ve become that phone dependent (remember when we actually memorized numbers?!). Cut to today.

I get a call at 7am from Mama telling me “she’s still here,” and woke up crying because she’s in so much pain. I ask if she’d like me to come down and sit with her, “no thanks.” I remind her (as have both aunties) that I cannot help her if she won’t let me. Mama has been masking for a very long time, and in brief interactions, she seems “fine.” I’m faced, yet again, with the “should I stay or should I go now” (without the melodic tune) saga. FINALLY, a doctor stops by and Mama calls. I’m able to hear from the professional what’s being done and make my case for additional imaging (which order has been played and prayerfully will occur before discharge). Oh, did I also mention this is in between messaging/talking with Apple again after receiving recovery email, which still doesn’t unlock my expensive dumb smart phone and requires “further escalation” to the tune of another 24/28 hours?

I full well realize my phone issue is a first world problem. But Mama? That’s another animal. I’ve had people ask why I’m still involved and trying to help. “Boundaries,” they say. At the end of the day, “Mama” is still my mom–regardless of her diminished mental capacity and how desperately I try to separate the two. At my core, I know regardless of how frustratingly difficult this (she) is, I cannot simply walk away. I have to do what feels right within my own skin. Because when she does leave this Earth, I will have to live with the choices I’ve made. I’m not sure if that’s right or wrong. I just know that’s where I’m at…

There’s a Keith James song, “Not My Day,” that’s playing on repeat in my head. You should listen to it. I was stuck in the first 2/3 of the song which is focuses around all the things that make it “not my day.” Thinking it’ll make me feel better, I play it. Someone to commiserate with. First verse: yep, his day is pretty bad too. Bridge: peach!. Chorus: “Not My Day” SAMSIES. Second verse: more of his bad day, feel that too. Then the bridge again, only this time it hits a little different.

“If my luck doesn’t change
I’ll be out of my brain by tonight
When your head’s out of place
You’re behind in the race of life”
Keith James, “Not my day,” KHS 2013

Read those last two lines again. Now here’s the third verse…

“Oh oh oh
What you treasure is who you are
Go and get it
Oh oh oh
If it starts to fall apart
Give it all you got ’cause
Folks will hurt, and down your worth
Don’t let them take you out”
Keith James, “Not my day,” KHS 2013

Then the final chorus changes from “not my day” to “maybe it’s just not their day.” Throwing in “won’t let them hold me down” before returning to the familiar song title, “No My Day” chorus at the end. Huh…somehow I missed that last 1/3 in the version playing in my head. Don’t let them. I control the narrative. I can choose whether I’ll continue to spiral. I will treasure and prioritize my own peace.

My aunties and I joked that even Jesus has stepped away shaking His head at this whole Mama situation. Obviously not, we all know better than that. It did bring levity to the situation, which was the whole point. So, now that I’ve written, revised, stewed about whether or not to share this over the last few hours, I’m posting for you.

You, my friend, who has an aging parent you are now trying to shepherd.

You, my friend, who has a loved one with an impairment.

You, my friend, who is grieving the loss of relationship.

You, my friend, who is just having a hard day.

You, my friend.

Don’t let them take you out. *hugs*

Yes, My Love

August 8, 2023by 4letsgetrealtogether1 Comment

I haven’t shared anything REA/L in awhile…life has been a bit too unbelievably chaotic. Have there been blessings mixed in? Absolutely! Those joys have been the bulk of my posts this year. These are the things I want to have pop up in my memories. The unpleasantries, however, I’d prefer to erase…

Within our family of four, we’ve had six surgeries among us this year with one more on the horizon. The specialists, appointments, treatments, therapies, etc have dictated the bulk of our schedules. Out of necessity, we’ve collectively danced with more fluidity than ever before…typically it’s just one of us (mainly me) that assumes the patient role. This time it’s entirely different and not in a good way.

My surgeries were incredibly personal and deemed medically necessary for prevention. Cancer ravaged my father, and with my bizarre “ecosystem,” avoiding that horrific parasite bestowed the best option. I discovered in the minimal sharing of the “why” I had a double mastectomy was met with confusion. “So you didn’t have cancer?” No, I’d reply almost apologetically, I did not. While I am fortunate this is the case, my chapter of recuperation is still unfinished.

Two weeks after my surgeries, our youngest needed knee surgery from an injury. She is still working her way back to even—making fantastic progress might I add. Rehab is never easy, and she is diligently putting in the time required to return to the activities she loves. It’s laborious. There have been tears of frustration and pain. The “other side” drives her so this too will be in the rear view mirror.

About a month later, the “c” word entered our household. It was utterly out of the blue. There were no symptoms. He didn’t fit the risk profile. And yet…

“I’m so sorry,” he says when we get the results. Tells the kids the same thing. They both immediately respond with the obvious: “This is not your fault!” He unfortunately doesn’t readily accept this. In his mind, he is the caregiver. He is glue. It’s his “responsibility” to ensure everyone has what they need. His provider gene runs strong. This is unwelcomed and unfamiliar territory, for all of us. Less than two weeks after diagnosis, treatment begins, and here we remain, praying all this will totally eradicate his cancer.

Last month, our oldest had oral surgery to remove four impacted wisdom teeth. I think people trivialize this type of surgery, relegating it as “routine,” which is regrettable. There’s something wholly unnerving about being knocked out while having people inside your mouth, looking at the unrecognizable person in the mirror, and struggling to eat, drink or talk.

Welp, there it is—the life data dump of our last six months. It’s a lot. And yes, we are all intimately aware our family has already been through “a lot.” We cling tightly to each other, especially when one of us tries to retreat, because that’s how we are wired. Eventually someone will figure out “the fix,” even if the solution is simply space. This too shall pass is our mantra, which is only moderately easier to swallow when spoken within our four walls. The absolute truth that guides us daily is this: the Lord will see us through, as He has so graciously done countless times before. “There’s a blessing buried in it,” he says as we leave the infusion center today. Yes, my love, there always is.

WTH

April 4, 2023by 4letsgetrealtogether3 Comments

The music is intentionally louder than normal—something I can control, meant to drown out my thoughts. While I’m usually pretty good at wrangling them, today they are running wild. Lack of sleep further spurs their disobedience.

I am fully aware my behavior does not align with scripture and goes against 2 Corinthians 10:6 where we are called to “take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” However today…today I am thick with emotion. While 1 Peter 5:7 bids me to “cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you,” I cannot. I desperately want to. It would be better for me if I would. My heart just doesn’t seem to remember these scriptures I’ve inscribed because it’s broken, and I feel numb. My lips profess “I’m fine,” but a more accurate statement is “I will be fine.”

Today, however, everything about me reads “NO!” Eyes down to avoid contact, AirPods indicate preoccupation, softly spoken minimal words imply conversation not welcome. I even told a friend “no thank you” when she called, could tell something was obviously off, and asked if I wanted to talk (which, for the record, I texted shortly afterwards and apologized if I seemed rude). Saying “NO” is something I can do, something I can control, especially when it feels like the rug has been pulled out from under me. I’m Alice, falling down the rabbit hole, clueless of how far it goes or what happens next.

Some might wonder, WTH?! Is she gonna spit it out or what? Again I say, no…or at least not yet. It’s too personal. Too close. And frankly, I’m too raw. In the midst of all these “too’s,” my heart cannot take another “this too shall pass.” I’m afraid one more might make me snap and say something awful that I don’t really mean.

So why in the world am I even writing this if I’m not going to share what’s going on? Because I don’t need to in order to ask for your prayers. My heart can only bear clinging to this singular scripture in its brokenness…

“And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words. And the Father who knows all hearts knows what the Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us believers in harmony with God’s own will.”
Romans 8:26-27 NLT

Thank you for listening. Hopefully, when you see me, you’ll understand my no thank you. Better yet, prayerfully I’ll no longer take up residence there.

Our Dearest Friend

March 24, 2023by 4letsgetrealtogetherLeave a Comment

I have a daily 9am notification on my Bible app reminding me to be in His Word and pray. Today, the devotional centered around a very familiar verse, Proverbs 27:17 “As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend,” which brought to light an aspect I’d not thought of before: the Holy Spirit as our dearest friend.

Admittedly, I am a private person, but I am thankful for those who break through, allowing me to feel comfortable in my vulnerability. The ever present Holy Spirit is most intimately privy to all my inner inequities, of which I have many. While I may not think of myself as a masterpiece, He does. In His omnipotence, He sees His completed creation and calls me “very good,” right from the beginning. This is also God’s vision of you, dear friend.

I’ve heard “you and your family have been through so much” more times than I can count…and that’s true. It’s hard for others to understand how I can say “it’s just another ‘is.’” The best way I can describe the easiness of this statement centers around the process. Any diagnoses or struggle is simply the springboard used to dive into the process of healing, and it’s in that place where we are molded, sharpened, purified.

So in my REA/L moment with you today, I encourage you to give yourself permission to be REA/L (Release Each Anxiety/Lie). We are created for communion—with Him and each other. Let’s stop thinking we are a “bother” when we share our burdens, because that’s not at all how God views it. There are times in everyone’s lives when help is needed, even if it’s just a listening ear, during the process of refining us, His masterpiece—especially knowing it sometimes isn’t particularly pleasant. We can, however, more readily accept His grooming practice if we remember who He is…our dearest friend.

Uprooted

September 14, 2022by 4letsgetrealtogetherLeave a Comment

Skin prickling, I can feel my breath continuing to silently suck in, which my lungs refuse to accept. No. This is not happening. I prayed against this. No. Uh uh. Not happening. And yet…feathers continue to plume, spine lengthens, chest proud. It’s about to go down. I close my eyes. Maybe if I don’t watch, it won’t actually come to this.

His size is similar, at least in stature and broad shoulders. Hands wide and worn. Pride written all over him and his body shows it. The once deep voice, raised at least an octave now, spews expletives uncontrollably every few words.

In slow motion, I turn to see how this unfolds. While I unequivocally know the man is not my father reincarnated, I find myself feeling the same way I had years ago. Same house, albeit pre-renovated kitchen, around the old island. Helpless.

Wait, did my dad cuss? He despised that! I can’t put my finger on that minor detail; meanwhile, everything else came through clear as day.

My husband, in his infinite wisdom, does not reciprocate. Quite the opposite. Everything is even keel. I can see it pains him to do so, being this disciplined while under attack. I am incredibly proud of you baby!

This juxtaposition between past and present, completely different circumstances, plunks me squarely in the face. Hot wet tears well, which is utterly unnerving because I despise crying, so I sit stewing in them quietly. Once the offender simmers down enough to carry a rational conversation, I can breathe again.

Audibly, I exhale with a long puff then greedily intake air again. Apparently I’m not able to disguise any of this because my husband recognizes my distress and apologizes. For what? Absolutely NONE of this is his fault. If anything, he went out of his way to avoid it! You’re doing a good job I tell him, or maybe only said inside my mind. How on Earth is he remaining so calm?!

“Be on your guard! If a brother or sister sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive.”
Luke 17:3 NRSV

This was part of the scripture referenced in Sunday’s “Let’s Fight” sermon series. It was also Communion Sunday, which means we also say The Lord’s Prayer.

“Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation
but deliver us from evil.”
Luke 11: 3-4

I’m not sure a more befitting message could have been gifted! As I write this, I physically have to release my shoulders from their perch near my ears. Lord, I am in awe by your faithfulness and gentle guidance! Like the apostles, I cry for more faith. Lord hear my prayer. The answer? A few verses later in Luke…

The Lord said, If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”
Luke 17:6 NRSV

*sigh* I sit back in my writing chair. Wow! How great thou art in deed!

Friends what I’d started forming was a sort of terrifying PTSD recount, when quite literally, He uprooted me, turning this piece on a dime into a completely different place of faith, grace, and forgiveness. I need to let go of that past wound as to not allow it space within my heart for comparison. I don’t need more faith. I need a better application OF my faith. Maybe I’m the only one? Somehow, I think not…

Let’s get REA/L together

Join this Club

September 8, 2022by 4letsgetrealtogether1 Comment

With a splitting headache, I made myself get redressed. Black skirt, rouged sleeved blouse, and heels since I was unsure of the evening’s dress code. Better to be slightly over than under. Quick kisses on checks, and I was out the door. It had been awhile since I’d gone to an event solo.

“Event” is a bit of a stretch. This was a meeting. First one of its kind I’d attended. Not knowing what to expect was nervociting (nervous and exciting at the same time). Compounding matters was the location I’d never been to coupled with navigating rush hour traffic. The parking lot only held a smattering of vehicles, so my timing was spot on.

Thankfully, my name was on the list when I entered, making check in a breeze. I began taking a lap around the room, and a familiar face appeared. We exchanged pleasantries. I apologized for my lackluster demeanor—head still beating through my skull, causing everything to be more difficult than it would normally.

Continuing on, I see a mini boutique set up, which I of course found something to purchase knowing it would benefit the club. With a fresh water bottle in hand, I turned and faced the tables where people had already begun sitting. This is always the fun part: finding the right group to join. Strategically, I choose the one front and center where, it appeared, plenty of open seats were available. To my relief, this assessment was correct, and I quickly introduce myself as “new.”

As the room filled, my headache became more demanding. I search for my AirPods in an attempt to drown out some of the noise with calming music. No dice, left them at home. Why on Earth did I decide to come tonight? I take a deep breath and tell myself it’ll be ok. I can do this, it’s just a couple hours.

The meeting begins. Following the agenda provided on the table, things move relatively swiftly, then finally the guest speaker was introduced. It was apparent from her bio that she was firmly entrenched in this group. Energetic, she bounced around the various avenues she’d taken to arrive before us today. It was inspiring listening to the way each twist and turn led to another; however, at this point in the evening, it took great effort keeping up with all the words. My brain’s processing powers had started slowing when these words slapped me to attention:

“When nothing comes out…”

She was referring to her work as an artist, rather, when as an artist, her creative side suddenly stopped flowing. She couldn’t paint. Not that she was physically incapable of putting brushstrokes on a canvas, it was just blank. Nothing was coming out. Simulataneously, her boys were at the age where they required more of her attention, so she switched focus, concentrated energy on her family, and that was ok. She was exactly where she needed to be. Painting would wait, which was hard but ultimately ok as well.

For months now, I’d have a momentary flash of something to write, then POOF! Gone. Nothing was coming out. No matter how hard I grasped for the thread that tickled my brain, I was left empty handed. The proverbial pen had dried up. I often wondered…was that it God? Did I write all that you’d have me say? While some might have called it writer’s block, I knew in my heart this was something else.

Have you ever had a “dry season,” where it feels like you’ve somehow wandered into a desolate dessert? Where you feel lost, maybe abandoned, like someone just plucked you from one place and dumped you into another? Join the club. It sucks. All that had come easily for me was suddenly ripped away. I was left uncomfortable, insecure, staring at my own blank canvas.

When nothing comes out, or things don’t go the way you think it should, it feels like a wasteland. But even in the most barren spaces, where gaps and cracks of what “should be” are painfully more visible, a great cavern of sorts—solidarity still exists. Congratulations! You’ve officially joined a club where the membership is free but not binding. Others have gone before you. Some are right there with you. More will find their way in too. Just remember: you do not have to remain in the club.

You might not find this as revolutionary as I did in that moment but simply hearing an unspoken “I’ve been there too” was lifegiving water to my parched pen. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t written in months. That chasm was bridged when I recognized and received the outstretched hand before me.

It’s ok.

I was not alone.

This slump, season, or series of unfortunate events cannot derail us from any plans God has already set into motion.

“I alone know the plans I have for you, plans to bring you prosperity and not disaster, plans to bring about the future you hope for.^”
Jeremiah 29:11 GNT

Whatever cataclysmic “thing” that’s eating at you, don’t think for a moment that He isn’t right there, in the thick of it, watching over you. He is infinitely mightier than anything that might come against. Know that. The very moment you confessed Jesus is Lord, you were granted membership into a club of eternal grace. A place of goodness and powerful source of hope.

I had no idea why I made myself attend this meeting, especially feeling like I did, but I was so thankful I did. Sharing her confession of faith and obedience instead of rebellion was exactly what I needed to hear. Peace replaced shame. Passion resurrected. Hope restored.

After the meeting wrapped up, I waited patiently to thank her for her words. She said she had prayed that she’d touched someone with her testimony. Yes, indeed, Jane you did exactly that.

Friends, it’s in sharing our vulnerable moments, where we cry out, question, and sometime rebel, that He is closest.

“For he will give his angels orders concerning you,
to protect you in all your ways.”
Psalm 91:11 CSB

Currently, I am finishing this while sitting in a dentist chair, mouth half numbed, awaiting my doctor’s return with a book on my lap. This opened a door of conversation and brought the opportunity to share my struggles. In my newfound confidence, I uttered the words “I’m a writer,” something I had not claimed in months. My “by chance” meeting with Jane, on a night I could have easily missed, allowed me to once again provide an avenue back to Him. In exposing my weakness, when nothing was coming out, God filled the cracks and granted access to once more be His vessel.

Your vulnerable admission that you don’t have it all together could be the very thing someone else needs to hear, at just the right time.

Join this club.

Be that person.

Let’s get REA/L together.

reality

November 3, 2021November 3, 2021by 4letsgetrealtogetherLeave a Comment

Let’s start with the title, “reality.” It’s intentionally all lowercase, which looks odd, out of place. The off center picture reveals a lackluster sink drain. And the mess? That all came out when I finger combed through my hair, prompting me to write this.

What we think should be our reality and what is reality does not consistently coexist. Unexpected events will alter plans, which is frustrating. Things aren’t always perfectly polished and wrapped up with a pretty bow, counter to the end of every Hallmark movie. When stuff isn’t in its correct place or done “just so,” it’s disconcerting and sticks out like a sore thumb.

However, this picture, I’d venture to guess, might just sum up most of our holistic lives. The “un”pin-worthy deleted pic. The unfashionable phenomenon called real life. The junk we don’t talk about or share, because honestly, it’s vexing. Who really needs another bitter spoonful of reality?

WE DO! Life isn’t all gumdrops and roses.

We need to see others’ unsuccessful attempts. It may keep us from making the same mistake, or better, help us realize it’s truly normal not always getting it right.

We need to hear about the “unspoken” harsh truths of aging, depression, conflict…things most of us will likely experience but don’t want to acknowledge.

We need to feel included in our painful loneliness.

I would dare to say it’s our obligation to keep it REA/L if for no other reason than this simple fact: it’s reality. An equalizing common denominator called truth that breaks the barrier between “us” and “them.”

“Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but those who act faithfully are His delight.”
Proverbs 12:22 ESV

Falsehood is fantasy. Faithful is adhering or true to fact. Real life reality.

So today, instead of muting our mess, let’s confess it in a safe space. It’s ok not having it all together. But together, we can make sense of the pieces, even the ones that don’t seem to fit into our plans. And that, my friends, makes reality a bit more palatable.

Wealth Worth

September 30, 2021September 30, 2021by 4letsgetrealtogetherLeave a Comment

Sometimes I wake up thinking, what am I doing with my life? I’m X years old, what do I have to show for it? As if I didn’t already have my own purpose anxieties, I’ve even heard “your children have long past primary schooling, when are going back to work?” That one still stings.

Even as I write this, I feel compelled to tell you that I ran a successful business for twelve years, then proceed to walk you through the rest of my resume in attempts to validate my worth. Sad really. But as I exhale this venomous thought process, I am reminded of this verse:

“Train up a child in the way he should go [teaching him to seek God’s wisdom and will for his abilities and talents],even when he is old he will not depart from it.”
Proverbs 22:6 AMP

The Bible doesn’t have a cutoff timeframe for this. Why should I allow any devaluation of my work? The Bible also does not delineate one type of work as better than another. The only “job matrix” of any value is laid out here:

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
Matthew 22:36-40

Need a simplified pretty pin worthy version?

Find one right thing and do it. Then repeat. Serve with an altruistic purpose. Then search for the next opportunity to do so. A job title doesn’t define your purpose. Worth isn’t confined to the walls of an office, held hostage by digits in an account, or sourced within social media clicks. Please, let’s stop perpetually feeding that lie.

Whether you are changing the world or changing a diaper. Changing your community’s landscape or changing the laundry. Changing lives inside a classroom or changing the emotional climate within the framework of your own home. Serve with the pure purpose of God’s Greatest Commandment. THAT, my friend, is why we’re here and holds tremendous value. Plain and simple.

I may not always get it right. But as long as I find one right thing and do it, I can rest with assurance that I’m on the right path. Truly worthy wealth worth.

Trust

September 3, 2021September 3, 2021by 4letsgetrealtogether3 Comments

I’m sitting here getting a pedicure, when a mother and daughter come in. It’s not what you would call your usual duo, as both are well seasoned. The daughter helps guide her mother into the chair. It’s obvious the mother is a bit confused about what’s happening, but her daughter patiently repeats the assurance “it’s ok.”

Once settled, the daughter tells her mother she’s going around the corner briefly to pick a color and would be right back. Immediate concern, bordering on fear, flashes across the mother’s face. She didn’t want to be left alone. She desperately needed to feel her presence, evident by the borderline tears. “You’re ok, I’ll be right back.”

Panicked, the mother looks around as if to attempt getting up. Without hesitation, the lady in the chair directly next to the mother leans over, holds out her hand, and spoke reassuring affirmations. The daughter was relieved and quickly returned with polish. It was beautiful to witness.

This reminded me of my relationship with God. I’m often unsteady on my spiritual feet. I’m easily confused when there’s unwanted change. I long for His nearness, tender words, and physical presence. I know in my heart He constantly provides all of these, but my fears clout my mind.

How can my faith be so fickle? Why am I so easy swayed when circumstances change? What does this say about my relationship with God?

None of this makes me a “bad Christian.” I am human. I must constantly turn to Him, which is by His design. It’s in these moments, when I crawl back to Him despite my indiscretions, that Abba gathers me up like the prodigal child.

“O my people, trust in Him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge.”
Psalm 62:8 NLT

Thank you, Lord for loving me through my trials. Thank you for listening when I cry out. Thank you for being my shelter in the storm. And most of all, thank you for always welcoming me back into your fold. In Jesus’ name, Amen.