Those in Need

It’s Sunday.  I am in Des Moines, Iowa where I have a business meeting scheduled for tomorrow.  I have the whole day, all to myself, with nowhere I need to be. 

It is beautiful outside. The kind of perfect, fall day that has you longing for a pumpkin spice latte and a stroll though city streets, soaking in the sunlight between buildings and enjoying the way the wind throws brilliantly colored leaves across your path. So, I set out solo to see what I can see.

I have visited a lot of cities. All of them have their own unique vibe. This one is no different. Des Moines has fabulous restaurants and bars. I have been to several and I have never been anything less than delighted with the food here. The buildings are all glass and brick and metal. Everything is modernized to feel rich and industrious, while simultaneously celebrating the history here. The combination of granite and brass, steel beams and original light fixtures somehow work together to make you feel as though you stepped back into the 20’s and found this place in all its original style and glamour.

But it is quiet. There is an absence of people that is felt. You have to wonder how all these businesses can stay open when there is hardly anyone on the streets. No crowds of people. No children at all. Just the occasional couple passing by with their heads down, hurrying off to somewhere. I am one of maybe 20 people roaming downtown. Me…and the homeless.

There are so many.  So many homeless sitting in the shade of buildings, laying on cardboard beds.  They barely watch me as I pass by.  Only one asks for some change, which of course I don’t have because no one carries cash anymore.  One says good morning.  The others say nothing.  They don’t look up, just straight ahead.  They don’t hold signs. They don’t play music.  They have nowhere to go and very few people to beg from.  I see them lined up along the street that I am heading toward, so I begin to pray. 

I pray for protection. I pray for protection the entire way down the street. I take a left, and there is the Central Iowa Shelter and Services building. Feeling led, I enter and make my way to the front desk.

There is a man behind the counter, currently on a phone call.  Beyond him, I can see a cafeteria where it appears there are several people congregating or having a meal. 

The gentleman hangs up the phone.  “How can I help you, miss?”

“I am visiting from out of town.  I have no plans for the day and was wondering if you need any volunteers here.  Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Ma’am, you would need to call tomorrow and talk to someone in our volunteer committee.  There is no one here right now that can assign anything to you.”

“I have work tomorrow and I leave Tuesday.  I was just looking for a way to serve the community and help people today.”

“Let me check upstairs.”

He proceeds to place a call. Explains to the person on the other end that there is a young woman here looking for a way to volunteer.  (yes, he called me young and yes I was way too pleased with that).

“Uh huh.  Yes, I told her that.  Ok, just thought I would check with the boss.”  He hangs up.  “Like I said miss, you could call back tomorrow and see if someone can direct you to volunteer opportunities.” 

I am disappointed.  My adrenaline is up, I was following my crazy impulses, and I was really hoping for the chance to change a life. 

“Ok!  Thank you.  Have a great day!”  I say as I head toward the door. 

I step back into the sunlight. I am standing in the middle of rows of men and women of all ages, all races, all hungry, all in need. And I have just been told there is no volunteer work for today. How tragic.

As I walk among them to get back to the main street toward my hotel, I do the only thing I can do.  I pray for them.  I don’t pray for protection this time.  I am no longer filled with fear.  I am now filled with heightened compassion.  They are in need, and I have just been told by their shelter that there is nothing I can do to help them today.  But I know a God that provides. 

I walk with my hands out and I pray.  Just loud enough where only I can hear it.  God help the helpless.  Defend the weak.  Feed the hungry.  Break the bondage of addiction.  Give forgiveness, cast out shame, bring revolution.  Heal the sick.  Comfort the lonely.  Grant them peace.  If all I can give is a prayer, Father hear these words and rescue your children.  Amen. 

I made it back to my hotel.  Three blocks away.  $300 a night.  Valet parking, gourmet food, glass and tile shower, velvet and leather chairs and a warm bed.

I think about the times in my life when I hit rock bottom.  There have been a few.  I could have so easily been in the shoes of those on the street.  I have experienced poverty, joblessness, loneliness, desperation.  I have received a foreclosure notice, had my electricity cut off, and been without water with two toddlers at my feet.  Most of you who read this have known me for a long, long time and you probably never knew what we were really going through. We were not homeless, but the brink of it was terrifying enough to enhance my awareness of how quickly life can change and how much we take for granted.

In those times I was tired. I wanted to give up.  I could have easily turned to drugs.  I could have let my fear, my shame, my damaged pride and my broken heart lead me down a path that led to sitting outside a shelter that turns away volunteers on a Sunday, sitting in the street, waiting for the cold of winter that is getting closer with every gust of autumn wind.

I didn’t because I know a guy.  I know Jesus and He knows me.  He is a way maker, and He can make a way where there is no way.  He has plans for me.  I never know what they are, but I know he has them and that gives me the strength I need to fight and to move forward.  To work harder, to trust, to persevere.  These gifts are from the Holy Spirit.  The flesh is weak.  But the spirit of the living God brings new life.

Those in need are not without hope. Those that know hope need to share it.

So, I pray for the Shepherd to gather his lost sheep. For those that he has called to get out into the fields and help find them. If you are a child of God who is blessed with a home, find a way to help those who do not. Volunteer your time, give as the spirit leads you to, and pray because the Father that gave you freedom and finances has more gifts to give and HE NEVER runs out of work for you to do. He is always looking for people who will serve.

The Playlist

You can tell a lot about a person by their playlist. 

I got home from work travel on Friday night.  Tired of eating out and looking for something easy to make my son for dinner, I decided to grill burgers by the pool.  I thought for sure I could tempt the teenager to join me, but he is not as impressed with pool life as I am.  Plus, it was 100 degrees outside, and the air was dripping with humidity, which is apparently too hot for swimming.  So, he passed on the pool party and stayed in to hunt for a movie for us to watch.

Turns out my son is not the only crazy person.  An entire apartment complex of residents must have agreed with him, because I had the whole pool to myself!  I was rich! I could grill, swim, sip my wine, sing!  I was free to pretend I owned the place, so I did.  I put my playlist on, connected to my bluetooth speaker and let Spotify run down the list of my favorite songs. 

As I sat with my feet in the water, I let my memories drift back to what each song meant to me.  What part of my life it met me in.   I let myself feel all the highs and lows of that ride. 

Audio Adrenaline: Walk on Water

“If I keep my eyes on Jesus I can walk on water.”

This song takes me to 17.  My best friend is driving, I am riding shotgun and my middle brother is in the backseat. 

Windows down, screaming the words while breaking every speed limit in the county.  Twisting through turns on the Tail of the Dragon to our favorite spot on Chilhowee lake.  Jamming to Walk on Water, psyching ourselves up to jump off that bridge when we got there. 

This song is youth.  It is bravery. It is freedom.  It is faith.

I had so much faith that God would make my life a series of sunny days like this one.

I was not afraid of the future. 

“I’ll be alright when the wind comes.  I’ll be alright when the waves come crashing.  I’m not afraid, no no, ‘cause this is my Father’s world”. 

I believed that God loved me and that as long as I loved Him back everything would work out the way I wanted it to.

But that is not exactly how it works, is it?

Eric Church: Guys Like Me

Then one day I fell in love.  It was fast and it was fun.  And I always was an adrenaline junkie.

I ignored every red flag because they weren’t louder than all the hand-made rings he would make every day at work and propose with when he showed up at my parent’s front door.  

We went camping.  He jumped off the bridge with me. He loved my brothers, and they loved him.  He was ok being poor as long as we were together, and I thought that was romantic at 19. 

He had never heard of Audio Adrenaline, because he had never been to church.  He believed there was a God and that I had a connection with Him, and I took that as enough to work with.  And he loved country music, which was on the list of requirements in a partner.

We saw Eric Church in concert at a small venue in Knoxville, right before his big break, before he knew he was famous.  I had every single word in his whole first album memorized.

“Guys like me drink too many beers on Friday after work.  Our best blue jeans have Skoal rings. We wear our boots to church.  So rough around the edges, it’s hard to believe that girls like you, love guys like me.”

We were young.  I had big dreams, but we had unbalanced values and had no idea how hard life was about to get. 2008 came.  He lost his job, and his new best friend was Jack Daniels.  My values became standards that were too hard to meet. 

Eight years later, feeling like a failure, heartbroken, lost, and too tired to fight anymore, we ended our marriage. What I wanted most in the whole world was a family and I was losing mine.  My world went black. 

I began to replay the lyrics that had mattered to him most over and over in my head.  They told me what I could expect…I just hadn’t realized there was a message in the poetry he was attached to.  And he had missed the meaning in mine.

Parker McCollum: I Can’t Breathe

I wish I could tell you that I ran back to God and my whole life miraculously improved from there. But I was not done trying to do things my way.

I tried and bailed out of several relationships, but eventually I found myself dancing in the kitchen with my best friend. It started as friendship and eventually evolved.

I thought this was it. He was not a Christain, but you could barely call me a Christian at this point. I would pray, but then I would hear from God and directly disobey because life was better than it had been for me since I was 17. I would bring God up and try to get him to go to church or pray with me, but for the most part my lifestyle reflected his. Together, we healed from the trauma of our broken marriages, but in the end, we broke each other’s hearts in a whole new way and I lost my favorite person in the process.

“I can’t breathe, baby I’m dyin’.  Why are you cryin, while I’m tryin’ for this love?  I can’t believe you think I’m lyin.  What are you not buyin? Is what I’m trying not enough?” 

Enough said.  I don’t think I need to elaborate on that pain.  Parker says it perfectly. 

Lucero: It Gets the Worst at Night

Time goes by. Despite my failed attempts at finding the love I so desperately wanted, I had made traction in life.  I had graduated college.  I had a great career making more money than I ever dreamed I would, especially as a single mother. Not rich, but no longer broke. My kids were growing up, and despite what I would call failures in my life, my kids were pretty incredible young people and they made me look like a rockstar mom. 

My dreams were almost within reach.  But at night, when you’re alone, all the lonely has time to hit you.

So, I stayed busy.  I slept very little.  I worked, I wrote, I ran, I lifted, I traveled, I made memories with my kids, and I did my best to ignore and numb the desperate, broken, bitter pieces of my heart that I didn’t want anyone to see.  Especially God.  I didn’t want judgement. So sure that He could not forgive me for all the times I shut Him out, my depression and anxiety mounted.

I had forgotten that He is the Prince of Peace.  I was determined that if I worked hard enough I could right my own ship and then come back to God when I was something he could be proud of again.

But at night, when it got the worst, I felt trapped. 

“It’s 4 a.m.  I’m on the road again.  To find some peace.  Some old gravel road.  God only knows there’s nothin for me.  There ain’t nothin left for me in Tennessee.”

I was stuck in almost there.  Almost out of that jail that my lack of self-worth and my shame had me caged in, with no idea how to get out. I blamed being trapped in my hometown that didn’t feel like home anymore.  Maybe there was some truth to that.   But the Holy Spirit was trying to call my heart back to my maker.  I knew it, but I was too afraid to surrender.

Chris Tomlin: Whom Shall I Fear

If God has a plan for you (and He does) He will carry it out until the day of its completion.  You are not mighty enough to change His course.  Like Jonah, you can run but you can’t hide. 

How overwhelmingly gracious is the heart of God!!!  That the Creator would take the time to pursue us! When I was not worthy, He called me chosen.  He gave me a new start.  He gave me a fresh heart.  He said I still had a purpose.  He was not done with me yet and not even I could mess up enough to fail Him. 

He opened the door for me to leave town.  He told me I had been lost in the wilderness long enough and it was time to take the Promised Land.  He told me to be strong and courageous.

“I know who goes before me.  I know who stands behind.  The God of angel armies is always by my side.  The one who reigns forever, he is a friend of mine.  The God of Angel armies is always by my side.

And nothing formed against me shall stand.  You hold the whole world in your hands.  I’m holding on to your promises.  You are faithful. You are faithful. You are faithful.”

Repeat.  Repeat that until you know it’s the truth, because it is.  And it will set you free.

Tyler Rich: Leave Her Wild

“If you’re gonna love her leave her wild.  If you’re gonna make her, make her smile.  If you’re gonna let her, let her dance, let her sing, let her be whatever she wants to be. Leave her wild.”

This is my anthem for this Friday afternoon, manning the grill, dancing in the pool, and acting like I own the place.

Sunny skies and windows down once more. Joy restored.  I know who I am again.  I know I am walking on the path God meant for me and I am learning to trust that His timing is perfect.

I am FAR from perfect.  But He already knew that.  That’s why it’s called redemption.

I know who I am AND I know that God made me this way because I make Him laugh.  And I make Him proud.  And He likes to see me live fully.  Being the me He made me to be is glorifying to Him. So, I am jumping off cliffs, climbing mountains, dancing in the rain, writing, playing guitar, reading, praying and searching out His spirit within me.  I am making memories, not just evading sleep. 

I know who God made me to be. I am choosing to listen and learning to be patient.

If he wants to bring me a love other than His, it will be a man who is also after His own heart.  It will be a man who hears this song and sees me in the lyrics.  His values will align with mine, because his heart will align with God’s.  He will leave me wild because that is how he found me.

He will love Jesus more than me.

And I will love him fiercely for it.

You can learn a lot about a person from their playlist.  And you know what’s cool about that? 

You get to pick the next song.

What will yours be?

Be Brave

When I was 11 years old, I had a life changing experience.  I had a mean teacher.  I don’t mean a teacher that gave out too much homework.  I had a teacher that called me names in front of my peers, told me I was too stupid to learn, and accused me of plagiarism when I won a school poetry contest.  He publicly humiliated me but add into that mix that I was in that awkward middle school stage and in a new state, new school, and had zero friends…disaster.  I was a straight A student going in and a D student coming out of his class.  After years of being the teacher’s pet and constantly praised for my scholastic success, this teacher made me believe that I was worthless in a matter of about 4 short weeks. 

My parents noticed.  I was emotional.  I was quiet. They decided to talk to the teacher, and he told my family to “take their redneck daughter back to Texas where she belongs.”  I kid you not.  That happened and no one went to jail or got sued.

We did move though.  My parents broke the lease on the house they had just rented in Tennessee and moved us into the city.  New school. Fresh start.  The new place even wiped my grades and within a few weeks I was back on the honor roll. 

But my confidence had taken the hit.  I was out to prove something with my grades and my writing now, but quietly.  I did not speak in class.  I did not make friends.  I did not raise my hand to answer questions and if I was called upon, I would turn bright red, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would fall onto the floor.  I was stuck socially.  Home was my safe place and the books I was addicted to were my escape into a world where I had friends and a purpose. 

I spent my middle school years trying to disappear in the crowd.  In the meantime, my little brother was a beautiful beacon of personality and charisma.  Six years younger than me, he was more popular in my 8th grade class than I was.  Small town famous with big time confidence.  Born cool.  That is what I tried to explain to my parents.  He just had something I didn’t.

That is when they gave me advice that changed my life. 

“It’s not that he has something you don’t.  It is that he is willing to do things that you aren’t.  He was once scared to talk to new people, but he did it anyway and so often that now it is easy! He wasn’t born hitting homeruns, he just kept swinging the bat because he loves that moment it connects!  He doesn’t know if the shoes he likes are cool or not, he just picks the ones he likes the most and loves them enough for everyone else to love them too!”

I got it.  It clicked.  He was not cooler than me.  He was braver than me.

If you want something, you are almost always going to have go out of your comfort zone to get it.  If I wanted to have friends, I was going to have to talk to strangers.  If I wanted to have confidence, I was going to have to act like I had it before I felt like it.  Eventually, it would come.  Practicing confidence takes courage.  And being courageous builds confidence. 

As you grow older and you reflect on the moments in life that impacted you the most, it will often be the trials that you faced and overcame.  It’s the time you were lost in the woods and survived.  It’s bootcamp, childbirth, college exams.  Whatever hard, painful, scary thing you faced, and you overcame, that is the story that builds you.  Confidence comes from acting on courage and the more often you do hard things, the more confidence you will build. 

I took that lesson to heart.  I started high school, once again in a new part of town.  I knew no one.  And I acted like I knew everyone.  I smiled when I felt panic creeping in.  I said “Hi” to anyone that looked my way.  I volunteered to read sections of Hamlet aloud in class.  I was kind to EVERYONE.  The cool kids and the goths.  I was on a mission.  I didn’t just want to have friends.  I wanted everyone to feel like they had a friend because I knew what it felt like to be friendless. 

Now I never shut up.  No one believes my story, because they can’t imagine me as a total introvert.  But my family knows.  They watched me go from hiding in the dark to leading presentations and they know exactly how hard that was for me.  They planted the seed of courage in me, and they watched me fight back and blossom.  My life took a path I would never have been on if not for the wise words my parents prayed for me to hear and take to heart.  I am forever grateful that they were brave enough to challenge their teenage daughter to be courageous.

Powerful Purpose

This Father’s Day, I felt like I needed to do more than say “Thank you” to the men who are putting in the every day effort to lead and provide. I want you to know how much it matters. When you lead, laugh, and love with your family, you are changing the world! Your routine tasks as a family man have deep purpose and profound impact.

The search for purpose is something we can all identify with.  As we grow older, we struggle with whether we are fulfilling our purpose.  What is our gift and are we using it?  Are we doing the work we were made to do?  Often, we are looking at our jobs and wondering if we are wasting our lives in the hustle of it.  Or maybe we have a passion or a gift but had to set it aside in order to pay the bills and provide for our families.  This can lead to anxiety and depression and insecurity, which causes us to fear the future and to fear God because we are not sure that we are living up to His expectations for our life’s accomplishments. 

Let me share with you that everything is ok and that you are enough.  You have the power to fulfill such a deeply meaningful purpose simply by living out a Christ centered life in your workplace and in your home.

In a world where so many families are being separated and ripped apart by selfishness and sin it is powerful to just be a strong leader, a patient father, a loyal husband. 

It is enough to be a provider. 

It is enough purpose to be a teacher and to train your children to be disciplined and well mannered, slow to anger, seekers of justice and granters of mercy. 

It is enough purpose to raise a family with good memories and to show them what love looks like in action and not just in word. 

It is enough purpose to love your wife radically and to make her feel beautiful and valuable.  It is enough to show your daughters what love should look like because they watched you pursue your wife and treat her as a partner.  Love your wife so well that your daughters want flowers!  They want dances in the kitchen.  They want understanding and communication and patience and laughter.  Teach their hearts to desire such things because they are good and because they are daughters of a king. 

Show your sons how a man carries his household.  Pray in front of them.  Pray for your family openly.  Demonstrate that a man takes out the trash because he loves his wife and wants to see her smile.  Expect them to work hard, so that they can appreciate the self-worth and pride that comes from a job well done.  Teach them to be wise with their money, generous and responsible. 

It is enough purpose to be the man of the house.  To be the shelter that your wife leans into and trust to hold her and her kids safe. 

It is a huge responsibility! Not to be taken lightly!  But if you can do that??!!! If you can be a good man, a good leader, a good father and husband?  If you can walk upright on holy paths and demonstrate your faith and integrity.  If you can teach and develop your children so that they become adults who go on to love hard and live wisely and love God and raise more children who do the same, then that is enough purpose!!! Living out a faithful marriage and raising a wholesome, loving family is uncommon.  In this dark world it is a beacon of hope and a miracle! 

You don’t have to preach.  You don’t have to have a fancy job and lots of money.  You don’t have to be a doctor and save lives.  If all you do is live a life that exemplifies Christ and provide your family with a safe and loving home, then you have raised up a family of warriors who stand against the darkness of this world and overcome it.  One family at a time.  One Dad at a time.  One husband at a time.  One hero at a time. 

That is more than enough. That is a calling.  That is generational transformation. That is a powerful purpose. 

Not Alone

I spent yesterday afternoon melting in the May summer heat and humidity of an east Tennessee Saturday under the banner of balloons proclaiming the colors of my friend’s seventeen-year-old daughter’s future alma mater.  She had graduated high school the night before and is preparing to embark on her first solo adventure, college.  But as I watched her graciously accept gifts, banter with her boyfriend, chase my nieces with bubbles and take selfies with my daughter and all her friends, I let it hit me that she is grown.  That my own daughter is only one year behind.  That I am SO PROUD of them both!  And that there is still so much that I haven’t said. So much wisdom that I meant to impart and didn’t have  the time or the right moment. 

And then she reads my handwritten letter, pulled from a gift bag amid her pile.  She blinks back a tear, tells me she loves me, and hands it to her mother and grandmother to read.  I hug her, and she knows.  She knows that I am a phone call away.  She is not mine, but I was blessed to be part of the garden she grew up in.  She had parents who loved her and aunts and grandparents, but I was there too.  Just as her mother was there for my daughter and she always will be. 

As a single mother of two children who are nearly grown, too many times I have felt the anxiety and pressure of getting it all right. Coaching at the right moment. I want to go back and do everything  all over again, but this time say all the right things.  I worry that I am out of time.  It’s too late. I am too late.

But the truth is, it was never all up to me.  I was never alone and their character and morals and growth and gifts were nurtured by a host of loving women who banded together to take part in the development of one another’s children.  We didn’t discuss it.  There was no schedule of days on duty or assignments for us to fulfill in one another’s lives.  We were just there, showing up for every crisis, every birthday, every memory making moment.  We were there for sleepless nights and the first sleepovers.  We bandaged scratched knees and scrubbed crayon off walls.  We held the jar of fireflies and the marshmallow sticks. We broke up the fights and started water gun wars.  We each planted seeds.  We each had a moment to teach a life lesson and to help these beautiful, wild, impressionable kids grow into the confident, courageous, and faith filled young adults that they are today.  Ready for the world.  Ready for adventure.  It wasn’t all up to me.  We did it together. 

I am so grateful for the women who have walked through motherhood with me and allowed me the opportunity to love their sons and daughters as my own.  Women I can call for parenting advice and receive no judgement.  Women who I trust to have conversations with them that they just can’t have with their mom.  You are here for a reason. You have taken part in my life’s most important mission, raising my children.  I chose each of you as my friend because something in your heart was good for the growth of mine.  And now I can see a piece of you woven into the spirit of my children.  I didn’t know when they were young that this would be a side effect of my friendship choices, but what a happy accident!  I love every one of you and respect each of you for your own strengths.  Happy Mother’s Day to all of the women that I am blessed to call friends and who took on the role of family, loving my children alongside theirs.  I can’t thank you enough for digging in and doing life with me.

Hello World!

Why Well Water?

There is a lot of power in a name.  I am willing to bet that most of my readers know the meaning of their own names, and I am willing to bet that many would agree their name does describe them or an aspect of their character.  Is that coincidence? Or is there power in a word?

We can reflect on that a different day.  For now, let me explain why I picked Well Water Life for this blog title.

Have you ever tasted water from a well or sipped water from a fresh spring?  It tastes different.  It is crisp, with the slightest hint of earth or mineral.  What you don’t taste is chlorine or fluoride, because well water is not chemically treated the same way as city water.  Both city and well water will hydrate your body.  They act in the same manner to cleanse, cook, and revive, but they taste different.  Well water tastes natural because it is in a more natural state.

Well water is privately owned.  If you have a well, it is your well.  It is under your maintenance.  If it needs to be treated it is up to you to treat it, but if you treat it and test it as you should then you can fully trust it because you know where it comes from and what has gone into it.  It belongs to you and how you care for that water will be reflected in the way it grows you and your loved ones. 

Water is life.  We can’t live without it.  There is no growth if we are not replenishing our bodies with the mysterious nourishment that it brings.  Seeds do not take root, trees do not bear fruit, and animals do not reproduce without this life source. 

Starting to catch the symbolism?

For my Christian readers, a quick connection to the story of Jesus and the woman at the well might be apparent .  Yes, that is also intentional.  She went to the well for a bucket of water, but she left with hope!  Hope born of a reconciliation with a God that she feared but believed would never love her. 
Never forgive her.  What she found at the well was Grace himself.  As she departed, she  rejoiced! She carried on her shoulders pails of water, but her soul no longer carried a burden.  She had been received, restored, and refreshed by living water.  She left with new life and a commission to share it with others.

Water is meant to be taken in every day.  We are meant to replenish what is good for us in order to sustain a healthy lifestyle and to grow in strength, wisdom and prosperity.  In the same way, we should take the time to fuel our passions and explore our purpose and dedicate time to the things that nurture our souls.  Discover your gifts! Do the work to improve upon skills that produce life results that bring you joy! Wisdom will come from the process and your journey will start to take on adventure and direction. 

I chose Well Water Life because there is power in a name.  I want for you all the blessings that come from a life well lived.  My hope is that this is a source of inspiration and guidance.  The content will be fresh, honest, and wholesome with a flavor that feels different than what is delivered on the mainstream.  WWL is meant to inspire you not to find meaning in my voice, but to find meaning in yours.  What brings water to your soul and a healthy harvest to your home? How will you bring new life to those in your circle? 

Water your life well and watch it grow!