Stuff : how identity changes our values

In middle school, I desperately wanted one thing. I wanted it so much that it consumed my thoughts, brought jealousy into my heart, and became the scale with which I measured all the people around me.

I wanted an Abercrombie t-shirt.

Nothing fancy, just something (anything) that had those magical words, "Abercrombie and Fitch" emblazoned across the front.

Looking back now, it is a little silly, but the power of that t-shirt really captivated my pre-teen mind.

It wasn't the shirt that I wanted, really. It was the status.

See, all the cool kids, all the popular girls, had Abercrombie clothes. All of them. And I, well... I did not. Those name brand clothes were expensive (still are, I'd assume), and my family didn't make fancy clothes a financial priority. I had lots of clothes. But they just didn't have that glorious brand name.

And heavens, I wanted that brand name. Because if I could wear that shirt, then I could be "in."

Blessings this Week: 11.04.2016

We've been here in Colorado for a couple of weeks, now, and I still can't get over the beauty of this place.

This beautiful rainbow and the fog over the mountains

My husband who called me out of the house to come and see it

Faith and Baseball: or, Why the World Series Was a Big Deal

Image Source: Kansas City Star

Last night, the laundry sat in a pile in the middle of my bed. The soup I made for supper was left to congeal in the pot still on the stove. I was busy. Busy glued to my laptop, and the seventh game of the World Series.

I'll be honest, I am not the most faithful Cubbies fan. I don't watch every game. I don't even have a Cubs cap anymore. And I've really never been much of a sports-watcher. That's why my poor dear husband - who isn't a sports guy himself- was a little confused by my instant dedication to this game.

Thankfully, he's patient and he's also used to me flaking out on my housework and getting emotional about people I've never met. And he's also very good at reading between the lines. He knew it wasn't just about a baseball game. And while I didn't have to explain myself to him, thinking about why this game resonated with me- with so many of us, really- made me realize that baseball is a lot like faith.

Maybe this is something that the sports lovers know already, but for me, watching the Cubs win last night was an almost religious experience. And I think it just may be because God designed us this way. He designed us to long for...

Worry : how insecurity can be reshaped by claiming identity

I finished writing the fourth page of the note with a big sigh.

"Okay. Don't let me forget to give this to them," I said to my husband.

He looked up from his game and smiled, amused.

"Don't you think it's a little overboard?" he asked, stifling his laughter. "It'll be fine. It's only a week, and he's a dog."


When we "adopted" Bear in December, I had no idea how quickly he'd find his way into my heart. For that matter, I didn't realize that he'd also uncover a deep-seated layer of my own insecurity. 

We were headed on vacation for a week, and Bear would be in the care of some friends from church. While I had no qualms about this wonderful family watching our dog, I did feel uneasy about what they'd think of him. I was worried about what my dog would say about me. 

I'm not crazy. I know that Bear can't actually "say" anything about me. But his appearance, his care, his behavior, could really say a lot about who I was as a person. So I worried.



I'm honored to be guest posting today at His Endless Love!

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Blessings this Week: 10.28.2016 Edition

It's been quite a week- to the extent that it feels like I've lived a month in the span of these seven days. But in the middle of all the change, finding those blessings- noticing and expressing gratitude to God- gives me a firm foundation.

The view from my backyard... and beautiful sunny days.

...   ...   ...   ...   ...

Holding the Handfuls

I looked up from the screen warming my lap, out the window to cows grazing just beyond the thin wire fence, mountains stretching high behind them.

As the beauty filled my eyes, my lungs expanded in a deep, restful breath.


There's been a lot of talk of simplicity in many Christian circles. Of rest, paring down.

I was a big proponent of all that, myself. In fact, the idea of a more restful existence was one of the reasons we decided to move out here in the first place.

But this change of job and geographical location and pace has its own stress, its own hectic chaos. For one thing, we have internet at home now, and I just got upgraded to a smartphone. There are always (always!) ninety million things I could be doing, and it is proving very easy to lose myself down the rabbit hole called the world-wide-web.

Tennis Shoes : how identity affects small choices

I was that kid.

You know, the one who faked ankle injuries out on the kickball field. The one who somehow made it to the end of the line when it was time for my team to bat in Whiffle Ball. I failed every Presidential Fitness challenge, with the exception of the flexibility test.

Those days out on the elementary school field, with its dying scratchy grass and occasional patch of dandelions, firmly solidified my identity in my mind. I was not an athlete.

I didn't run, didn't catch, didn't throw, didn't kick. And I certainly didn't sweat.

Bookish and smart, I didn't need any of that, anyway. And my fast little metabolism worked overtime but kept me healthy and trim.

This image of myself as a non-athlete was so ingrained in my being that I bowed out of rec classes, never tried out for an inter-mural team in college, and poked fun at myself for being out of breath on those rare occasions that my roommate took me out salsa dancing.

It was a mantra- part of who I was. I don't exercise.