Little Women, Living Sacrifices

Do you ever witness something so amazing or have the Holy Spirit do something so beautiful in your heart that you're afraid to even put it into words because you're terrified you'll wreck it?

That's where I am.

I've started this entry over like ten times now.  This is not like me.  I'm pretty good with words.  Well....at least I'm plentiful with words.  But this is leaving me keyboard-tied.  It's because I don't even know if I can do justice to what God has laid on my heart over the past few months.

Jesus is stringing together a precious theme through some courageous women in my life, and I feel so unworthy of what He is showing me.  I don't know why He's chosen me...

But I must obey and try my best to share with you.

First off, I've lived life with some freakin' awesome women.  I have made life-long friends and strengthened relationships with girls I have known since we were babies crawling around in the church nursery.  My sophomore year in college was especially precious to me.  I roomed with my best friend, I started to really come into my own, and then I got engaged!  I have so many epic memories from my four years with these amazing Little Women! I remember we had a scripture theme for that sophomore year from Romans 12:1-2.   I memorized it.  We studied it.  We sang songs, wore t-shirts, and created artistic banners throughout the dorm halls to remind ourselves that we are "living sacrifices."  I had it down, man.  I knew I was a living sacrifice for my Jesus and I couldn't wait to get out into the world and live the mission of Christ with these amazing Little Women of Faith.

Spoiler Alert: I.  Had no.  Idea.

Fast-forward about 15 years.

Thanks to social media, the Internets, and the Nazarene pipeline, I have kept in contact with a ton of these Little Women.  But recently, something hit me like a tidal wave.  It was a typical Sunday evening with our small group.  One of my precious friends, Traci, stood up to read our scripture reference for the evening.  Traci is a beautiful woman.  A pastor's wife extraordinare. Gracious and kind.  And a mother of two boys under five years old.  And carrying her third.  THREE BOYS.  Bless.  As she stood there, her toddler was hanging onto her knees and running around in circles.  She was a human maypole, trying to hold her bible steady and balance her baby belly and out of her mouth came Romans 12:1-2...

"Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."

WHOOSH!

Insert stifling sobs here.  Watching this scene unfold, it was like Jesus was pulling a veil away from my eyes and gently whispering:

Princess... Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing. (Luke 4:21)

You see, over the past decade-and-a-half my girlfriends and I have journeyed through some pretty intense sh ... ahem, excuse me... stuff together.
Miscarriages.
Ectopic pregnancies.
High-risk pregnancies.
Infertility.
Still-births.
Children gone astray.
Husbands gone astray.
Cancelled adoptions.

The list goes on.  I have had my share in this list, and I'm sure you have, too.  And then Satan introduced the "C-word" to my Little Women ... and their children.
Breast, brain, ovarian, cervical, oh my.

Not. Cool.
You guys, it just plain sucks, doesn't it.

So far my standard reaction to any bad feels regarding these Trial of my Little Women (and also a certain stupid time-of-the-month that shall remain nameless) has been to shake my fist at the air and curse Eve.  This has not been super fulfilling.  Mostly it felt good to blame someone.  But it's not helping at all anymore.  Now it just feels empty and stupid.
Probably 'cause it is.

It's more than anger and grief.  It's more than shock and sadness.  My heart is just.... well it's somehow a mix between bursting apart with devastation and exploding with pride for my girlfriends.  Over the past several years I've been watching these amazing Little Women endure some pretty terrible things.
No, terrible is not bad enough.
You guys... it's hell.
But the story doesn't end with them being helpless victims. People, they are fighting trials with grace, dignity, and HOPE.  I'm blown away.  This leaves me speechless most of the time.  (Which is a big deal, because if you know me, well... yeah.)  I think that's why it has been so tough for me to write about.  It's hard to put into words the heroic strength, courage and inexplicable faith I'm seeing in the lives of the women around me.

Example #1: My friend who gave birth to twins recently.  One alive, one with Jesus before she left the womb.  I can't wrap my brain around this.  She carried both to term.  Was willing to experience the agony and grief alongside joy and delight.

Example #2: Witnessing my college girlfriend's adoption process fall apart at the last minute only to see she and her precious husband turn around and start the journey all over again, full of hope.  Clinging to each other and their Jesus.  Never giving up.  I don't get how they did that.

Example #3: My dear friend, a mommy of two littles, posts a selfie on Instagram; her smiling face, full of joy, with thumbs up and chemo IVs in the background as she fights "The C-Word"  and dressing up for Halloween as Wonder Woman.  What.  How.  I'm....

And then Traci reads Romans 12:1-2.

This is HOLY GROUND.  I am watching Romans 12:1-2 in the lives of EXTRAORDINARY Little Women around me. These Little Women are WARRIORS!  And God brings me speechless to my knees, shoes off, face to the floor.  There are countless stories out there like this.
Some end with Happily Ever After.
Some don't.
And still these Warriors soldier on.

I know that just because Jesus is in the lives of us Little Women does not mean we get to understand and know why.  But I am convinced that His Spirit and His Power does some unexplainable things in the midst of trial.  Because I've seen it.  I AM seeing it.  We hold onto His Hand and His Word for dear life.  And that means more to me now than ever.

I do not get it.
But I say HALLELUJAH!

Onward, Little Women.
You are LIVING SACRIFICES.

Therefore, I urge you, sisters, in view of God's mercy 

to offer your bodies as living sacrifices...

...Holy and pleasing to God...



...THIS is your spiritual act of worship...

...Do not conform any longer to the ways of this world...

...but be transformed...

...by the renewing of your mind...

...Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is...



... His GOOD...



... Pleasing ...



...and PERFECT will.

Do we have to hurry?

Confession...I went back to bed after dropping the kids off at school on Wednesday.
There I said it.
And I wasn't sorry at all.  It was a lovely little nap that I had been looking forward to ever since I woke up at 6:30... to make myself a nice cup of french press so I wouldn't kill anyone at 7:00.  After I had nagged people to hurry up and finish their breakfasts, hurry up and get dressed, hurry up and brush their teeth, hurry up and find their shoes and stop chasing each other around the bathroom, I was very ready to have some chill time and a catnap to "restart" myself before work at 9:30.
Then I got a text.
"WHERE ARE YOU?!?!"
Omiword, I hate that text.  It's that one that wakes you from complete subconscious bliss into full-blown, holy crap, terror in less than a second.  I was supposed to be at work at 8:30 NOT 9:30.
Poop on a rubber dog!!!
So then I'm trying to get dressed, brush my teeth and find my Starbucks apron simultaneously. (Oh yeah, BTW, I'm a barista at Starbucks.  Go ahead.  Be jealous.)
I forgo breakfast because hello, I work at Starbucks, and I shove my supplements and a bottle of water into my purse to take on the way...because I love my co-workers and would never subject them to the version of Lyss without her Vitamin B and Acidophilus.  Seriously.  It's no bueno.
Walk out the door, slam it behind me.
Annnnnd remember my keys.
Now I'm locked out.
I HATE YOU APRIL 23RD, 2014!!!
Luckily I was able to break in through the garage pretty easily (....which is worrisome, but not right now!)  And I was in my car peeling out of the driveway at 9:10.  At 9:11 I'm at a stoplight, popping supplements and chugging water when I look over at the Mcdonald's nearby and saw this truck...

... and it was the last straw.

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure that this giant Egg McMuffin's goal, nor the creator of this ad, was not to throw me into a rage.  In fact I'm sure that, under different circumstances - perhaps on vacation, traveling on the highway, seeing this ad whizzing by - it would even bring a smile to my face.  It's kinda cute.  Look, kids! The giant food is blowing away due to the rapid speed of the vehicle which carries it.  How clever!  But today, it was a sign of everything I hated at that moment.
Speed.  Hurrying.  Fast-paced urgency.  Stress.
And I remembered where I was headed.  I was about to go make fancy drinks for people from Johnson County at Starbucks in record time.
AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
Stop the world.  Just stop it right now, cause I want off.  It's spinning too fast and I wanna barf.

Do you ever feel that way?  I feel it pretty consistently, but especially this time of year.  The weather is gorgeous, the back yard and my stack of books with an iced tea are beckoning... but the kids still have school.  The children's choir is still in session.  The dishes won't put themselves in the dishwasher.  We can't wear that shirt for a third day in a row, people will talk.  There are still things that "have to be done."  (I put that in quotes because they really don't, y'know.)

I think I was born in the wrong era.  Or the wrong country.  Either that, or I should have been on Oceanic flight 815.  Because I absolutely love the idea of living simply & slowly.  I mean reeeeeeeally simply.  We're talking log cabin, pioneer farming, horse and buggy, Laura Ingalls, John Locke simple.  I love being outside, growing food in the dirt, campfires, fishing, hiking, just....being simple. Peaceful.  Most of all, slow.
Ahhhhhhhhh, slow.

My favorite memories as a child were not the Christmases covered in toys, not the constant trips to the mall for another outfit (um, HELLO, my father was a minister and my mother was a school teacher.)  It wasn't the  plethora of activities that I was signed up for against my will, or even the constant myriad of church activities.  Nope.  My faves, the ones that come straight to my brain when people ask me to remember my childhood, are the "lazy," quiet times.  Singing with my mom in the car at the top of our lungs to the Carpenters, Carol King, and of course James Taylor.  Playing with my sister & my best friend, Holly, on a rainy Saturday.  Sitting in our living room, listening to my mom play hymns on the piano while my dad tried to hide his tears of joy behind his newspaper. Fishing with my dad and my grampa for hours on Uncle George's farm, while grandma sat on the dock in her big floppy hat, dangling her feet in the water (pantyhose still on, of course.)  She'd always ask the most awesome question: "Do we have to hurry?"  And of course the answer was always "no."

I know I sound like my grandma when I say this but, c'mon people.  Do we have to hurry?  I think most of the time we hurry out of habit and not necessity in our house.  I hear Luke or myself preface so many command with "hurry up and..."  Why?  Are we late?  (Usually not.  Have you met my husband?!?! It is virtually impossible to be late anywhere with this man since he will go to any length to get us up twelve hours before we are due to be anywhere.  Yay.  I love you babe.)  I've actually started to hear my kids ask that question on a regular basis. "Are we late, mom?!" Such urgency and stress in their voices!  Crap.  I've taught them to look at a time device and freak out.

Can I unteach them this???? YES. I'm the proof.  I used to be a stress machine!! I had forgotten the wise words of my grandmother and I'd work myself to the bone, faster and more efficient than anyone around me.  If you need something done, give it to Alyssa.  Isn't she already doing, like 50 other things?  Yeah, who cares!! Pile it on, bro!!  But then I started working for the three most relaxed, abstract, go-with-the-flow pastors on the planet.  Seriously people we are talking chill pills in human form.  I was wound tighter than a Nazarene at General Assembly.  I was a mess!  But slowly and painfully, working with these three guys, I remembered how to relax.  Will this church service be perfect?  Nope.  Will we add things last minute to the order of service?  Maybe.  Will Pastor Rick allow for silence and space even though it means we end late?  Yep.  Will Jason decide to add a chorus or two to the last song even though there are not lyrics for that on the screen?  Probably.  Will Jesus still come meet us in a powerful way if we we focus on His Spirit calling us?  Yep.... because if we're still enough to actually listen, He's always there.

I'm ready to unteach the crazy pace in Team Johnson's house this summer.  It's gonna drive my poor husband nuts.  And probably my type-A children.  But it's for the greater good.  I vow here and now on the internet to NOT put my kiddos in every camp, VBS and YMCA activity imaginable over summer break.  I promise to leave Selah space for them to run around and get messy and be kids!!  I promise to STOP THE MADNESS. I will not forget what my Grandma taught me and my Pastor Chill Pills re-taught me.

Do we have to hurry?
Nope.

Harness This Feeling

Friday, March 7th, 2014
8:30am

Omiword.
My kids are awesome.

Do you ever have that moment when the sheer amazement that your kids are fantastic and wonderful washes over you and you lose all sense of space and time and location and just start bawling???? Nope?  Anyone?  Anyone?  Bueller?  No, just me?
Okay, well anyway that super happened to me this morning while I was watching my two angels wave at me and walk into school, leaving me in the parking lot completely beside myself.  Just me and Jesus in the car, one of us a complete puddle of mush and the Other with His arms around the puddle whispering precious things. Some that are really none of your beeswax.  But I will share this.
I tell some crazy stories about my little people...some of them good, some of them not.  Let me just clear the air:

My kids rock the universe.
The end.
Amen.

They are so creative and thoughtful and amazingly talented and SO. Stinking. FUNNY!  And smart.  And CUTE!  Omiword, they are so freaking ADORABLE!!!!  I could give examples, but Al Gore would ground me for using up all the internet.  So just take my word for it.

This is where Luke would use his famous phrase that makes me know something that feels like scolding is about to happen.  "Harness this moment, Lyss."  In other words, grab onto this feeling and don't let go.  Because in seven hours I will pick them up from school, tired and thinking about everything that has to get done this weekend and they will be crabby and overflowing with information they MUST SHARE RIGHT NOW and then they will fight about who is interrupting who and then we will all be yelling and it will be very sad...all before we leave the school parking lot.  That is unless I have "Harnessed this feeling."  If I've truly been able to remember this moment and keep it in perspective, then maybe, while my angels are impersonating demons, I can wrap my arms around their wiggly, gangly bodies and tell them without a hint of sarcasm,
"I LOVE YOU!!! I MISSED YOU!! I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU!!!"

We'll see...

Scrubs, Selah Saturdays, and Other "DUH" Moments...

Ok, so one of my favorite shows is Scrubs.  It's so ridiculous.  I love it and I mourned it's passing.  There's this scene in an episode where the main character, JD, has a really stupid moment and he turns around, and imagines all his friends and fellow hospital staff members throwing him a "DUH!" party.  It's a great scene, because it displays one of the millions of moments where JD's imagination runs away with him, and it completely hit home with me recently when I had my own "DUH!" party with Jesus...

So, a few weeks ago, Luke and I discovered something miraculous.
A treasure we thought only existed in Jane Austen novels and cheesy cell phone commercials. We discovered, get ready for this...

A Saturday with nothing on the schedule.

Yes!  I too was skeptical of this enigma. Is it a figment of our imagination?  Are our eyes playing a cruel trick?  But it was real.  And we danced for joy.  I then declared the invention of the "Selah Saturday," thinking I was pretty witty by coming up with that title.  For you see, Selah means "to pause; to be still and reflect."  It's in the Bible, so it must be something we can and should do, so yay off we go!  Doing nothing!  We even put the word "Nothing" in our calendar for all day. Yay!!!

We were so excited for our Selah Saturday.  We looked forward to it for the whole week.  We talked about it every day.  And when it arrived, it was like Christmas.  We got up at a nice lazy time.  We drank coffee and sat at the kitchen table, gazing into each other's eyes and chatting away the morning. After that we decided to go for a nice walk where we could stop on the way, sit, and just take in the world.

Oh, and if you believe that last part, you're my new best friend.  And also, come to my purple house and ride my flying pony some time.

We forgot, in this lovely plan, about one small detail.
Um.... WE HAVE CHILDREN.  Children that have absolutely no brain capacity to to imagine the beauty of the word "Quiet," much less Selah.  The minions cherubs were up at the butt-crack and were all like "What are we doing today?"  "Where are we going?" "Who will we see?"  "What fantastic adventures await us today?"  "Tell us the plan!!"

And we were all like.... "Nothing."

Their little eyes looked at us as if we were speaking Klingon.
"Ummmmm, I don't understand what you just said."

[Side note before you call your friends to discuss how I hate my children.  I love my children.  And I love that they feel they can tell me anything and everything that's on their heart.  I want to nurture that relationship I have with them now, while they are still young and sweet and think I'm smart and awesome, before they turn an age with the word "teen" at the end and they start to think I'm the stupidest person that ever lived.  I love talking with them.  I love our bedtime conversations about life and God and every other thing.  And I love their energy and zeal for life.  I love that they can get so excited over a tiny LEGO piece or a funny sound the dog makes.

Except when I don't. Because sometimes I just want them to stop.  Just .... SHHH!!!]

Anywho, we learned that all members of Team Johnson love our open Selah space with nothing to do, it's just that our space varies in size.  Mommy's Selah space tends to last until someone drags her out of it, kicking and screaming.  Seriously, people, I'm one of those weird creatures who could sit still and watch a bug climb up a wall for an entire day and be completely content.  Daddy's open Selah space can last for about....half a day.  He gets up before dawn, has some Jesus time, goes running, checks the Faceplace and then around 10:00am he gets stir crazy and demands that Mommy barks out tasks for everyone, lest he die of boredom.  Annnnnd then there are the little people.  Their Selah space is about 10 minutes.  Then they seek to steal, kill and destroy.

Needless to say, Selah Saturday was a super disappointing day for the Team.  Luke sat down to read a book and I think he read the same page like twelve times, getting interrupted every seven seconds by a pouncing child and/or dog.  I sat in the recliner with my coffee trying to relax and ponder life whilst intermittently barking out things like, "Omiword, people, you have like seventy jillion toys and a backyard.  Go entertain yourselves or I will give you plenty to do!!"  So then the inevitable happened, they got on my last nerve and they were forced asked to do chores.  And then the crying commenced.  From them AND me.  And it pretty much never recovered.

Later that day, I ranted to Jesus.  I was so disappointed.  I was feeling wronged and entitled to this space and peace.  Why can't they just be still and realize what an amazing thing this is to have this space to just...be! 

Insert "DUH!" party here.

You see, over the last few months, my prayers have pretty much all boiled down to this kind of crap:

Ugh, Jesus, I'm ready.
I'm so ready today to get out of here!
To leave all of the silliness behind and follow You anywhere.
And I'm so frustrated that You aren't leading me straight out of this ridiculousness we call the American Life and ushering in the New Great Adventure somewhere spectacular like Argentina or China or even (gasp!) California!  I feel like the Israelites wandering in the desert, Jesus.  Just this nothingness!  It's just too much for me to bear! Anything but this, Jesus!!! 
What's next, Jesus?  What's the plan!?

And through this ridiculous Selah Saturday, Jesus finally answered me.  Through my own words.

Daughter, Why can't YOU just be still and realize what an amazing thing this is to have this space to just...be.

You see, my sweet Max and Abby tried desperately to do this foreign task of "entertaining themselves," to no avail.  And it's my fault.  They are the typical 7 and 8-year-old American children whose Type-A mother and father have taught them that there is ALWAYS a plan.  Always something to do.  Somewhere to go.  Some task to accomplish. Hello, we have a freaking chart on the fridge that has the schedule for every day, including dates, times, meal menus and color coded activities.  DUH! No wonder they freaked out!! We have taught them to to exactly that!  How can they embrace space when they haven't been taught to do so, and they have never seen it modeled?!  This "no-plan" plan was destined to fail from the get-go.  And now I see why.

I have to embrace this space. This time that Christ has given our sweet family to just....be.  To stop spiritually fidgeting and just stop and figure things out and process life.  To develop true Selah in our family it has to be a mindset, not just one Saturday on the calendar.  Most importantly I have to stop pouting and fussing and remember that this space God has given Team Johnson is not a deviation from the plan.  It's an essential part of the plan!  It's not a punishment.  It's a gift.  It is not the Israelites wandering in the desert.  It's the shade tree over Elijah.  It's not purgatory.  It's a piece of heaven.

Are you on a "Wilderness Journey?"  Do you feel stuck?  Might I humbly and gently suggest stepping back and truly asking Jesus if this is maybe a gift and not a punishment.  Cause I happen to know sometimes it's hard to tell:)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna have a cup of coffee and stare out the window for a while.  At least until someone needs a snack.

Selah.

Downton Crabby

Got a text this morning with the words NO parent wants to hear on the first day back to school after Christmas - I mean WINTER Break...

"No School
Snow Day"


NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Please, No!  I've spent seventeen straight days with these people!
SE-VEN-TEEN. DAYS!!!  This is Downton Day!  I even have it cued up and ready to watch as soon as the minions cherubs are out the door!!!
...Maybe I can drop them off at the principal's house for a while.  No?  Ugh.

Then My mom, in her wisdom, knowing my reaction before I can even fully voice it myself, sends me this precious text:

"Take pics all day!  What a great memory maker!"

Sigh...


Well, while I did not take pictures for fear of being kicked of The Internet, here are some of my favorite quotes over this lovely, memory-making Snow Day...

-------------

Max: Mom, I can hear the ocean in this shoe!


Abby: I just need some alone time.
Me: Under the kitchen table?
Abby: Yep.  This is my alone space.


Me: Poop is funny, Luke, it's just a fact.  Stop fighting it.


Luke: Get off your sister!
Max: We're synergizing, Dad!


Luke: Max made a bow and arrows from a hanger and a bunch of sharpie markers, are you cool with that?
Me: Crap.


Me:

You people are messing up my Downton Abbey Day!!!!!

Max: VOLTEX!!!! VOLTEX!!
Luke: What does that mean?
Max: I have NO idea.


Abby: We called a truce, so we can't eat any more pineapple, Mom.
Me: Ummmmm, what?


Max: My shadow is too fast for you!!! (followed by the child running into the back door.)


Abby: AVOCADO!!! (followed by hysterical laughter for five minutes)

--------

Ahh, memories.  
Thank you, God, for the gift of laughter, so often given through my wonderful children.
And....Puh-LEASE, let there be school tomorrow.
Amen.