20 Self-Care Practices For the Mind, Body & Soul

"How are you?" This is a question that gets asked frequently in many of our conversations. 

Busy. Tired. Anxious. Overwhelmed. These are the words I often hear (and say) in response to that question.

We all experience these feelings of weariness or disorientation. When we are living lives filled with activity, noise, and hurry, it is incredibly difficult to feel healthy and rested. When that is our overall experience with life, the result is that we become stressed and burned out.

In order to nurture the health of our mind, body, and soul, we need ways to recenter and restore. We need these in short spurts throughout the day, and also longer stretches. With a bit of self-care, you can experience more joy, rest, and soul-health.

Here are 20 self-care practices for your mind, body & soul:

1. Simplify your schedule. Are you over-committed? Ask yourself which activities are truly adding value to your life, and thoughtfully make space for those things.
2. Do something that energizes your body. Stretch, swim, run, do yoga, or whatever physical activity you enjoy.
3. Take a long, warm bath. While you're at it, light a candle, read a magazine, listen to soothing music. 
4. Create a Gratitude List. Write down all the things that you're thankful for. 
5. Get a massage. Enjoy it.
6. Unplug for a day. Go on a media and tech fast, and turn off the electronic devices.
7. Stretch. Find the kinks and tension spots in you body, and stretch them out.
8. Do something new. Have you been considering learning a new skill or trying a new hobby? Go for it. 
9. Practice mini-meditation. Begin or end your day with a minute of deep breathing, and focused awareness of your body, thoughts, and feelings.
10. Dance it out. Put on your favorite dance music, and shake your body.
11. Write or journal your thoughts. Take 10 minutes, and jot down whatever is on your mind. Mentally release those things as you write.
12. Get quality time with a quality person. Hang out with someone who you love. If they're far away, give them a phone call.
13. Be still. Find a quiet place outside, and embrace the stillness.
14. Practice a full day of Sabbath rest. Take a full day to rest and rejuvenate.
15. De-clutter. Choose a place - your email inbox, your desk, a closet - and get rid of the excess and junk.
16. Do an activity mindfully and slowly. Savor the moment, and experience your activity with attentiveness. 
17. Take a walk. Explore your area at a leisurely pace.
18. Reflect on your personal mission statement. If you don't have a personal mission statement, create one. 
19. Enjoy a piece of chocolate or a glass of wine. Better yet, enjoy both together.
20. Sleep. Take a nap, go to bed earlier, give your body some extra rest.

What is one thing you can do today to practice self-care?

This post is also on my Spiritual Journey blog, where I write about the spiritual journey.

Thankfulness

This year our family began a new tradition. It's called the Thanksgiving Tree. Every day we write down things we're grateful for, and hang them on the tree. On Thanksgiving Day, we'll read them out loud. Then the following day we'll decorate it for Christmas. More time with our tree, more time to practice gratitude.

This season of Thanksgiving is timely and meaningful for me. I've noticed recently that there is a buildup of frustration in me. I think this frustration is coming from my perception that my life feels scarce. Sleep feels scarce. Money feels scarce. Emotional energy feels scarce. 

But each day I walk by our Thanksgiving Tree, and think to myself, "What do I have to be grateful for right now?" Every time I consider this, I experience a shift in my soul. My heart expands in awareness of how much I have. I experience joy and contentment. Bitterness and anxiety melt away. I recognize the abundance in my life. I remember that every single good thing I have is a gift and grace from God that I didn't earn or deserve.

Here are some things I am particularly thankful for right now:

1. A growing friendship with my parents. They are really quality people, and I love spending time with them every week.
2. Getting to connect with family and friends over FaceTime. 
3. My husband. He's my partner in life, and we have it pretty good.
4. Great schools and teachers for our kids. 
5. Our housemate Ryland. We have built-in community with someone who we genuinely love.
6. A healthy, functioning body.
7. Friends who volunteer to babysit our kids. 
8. Resources to travel to California to spend time with family for Christmas. With a family of five, this is no small thing.
9. My friend Cathy. In our friendship, we share, laugh, cry, and end up better people because of each other.
10. A home where we can rest and welcome others.
11. My three kids who each add so much love and joy to our family. 
12. Hugs that are a whole lot more than just a hug.
13. A computer, car, and vacuum that all work. 
14. Our church community of risk-takers and faith adventurers. 
15. A moment today of quiet stillness.
16. Getting to spend time doing what I love. The big pieces of my life - writing, parenting, discipling people - are all things that I want to be doing.

A Generous Heart

Every night before our kids get into bed, we have "talk with God time." It's some space we create to listen to God and tell him what's on our hearts. Usually, our kids pray something simple, such as "God, please help Daddy have a good trip" or "Thanks for a good day." Sometimes we ask God if there's anything he wants to say to us.

The other night, Aaron's prayer was a bit different. He said, "God, please give Jade and her family a home to live in." I asked him about it afterwards, and he explained that his friend and classmate Jade currently lives in a tent because her family can't afford a home. We talked more about money, homes, and how sometimes people's basic needs are not being met.

The next day, I discovered Aaron counting money from his piggy bank. He has about $11 dollars, mostly from some birthday money and loose change he manages to find. He collected a portion of the money, put it into a plastic bag, and told me that he was giving it to Jade.

Maybe this shouldn't have been surprising to me. Our family talks a great deal about kindness and thoughtfulness. We affirm the small and big moments when our young kids share their belongings or extend kindness to people. But Aaron's desire to give away his money struck me as particularly beautiful, especially coming from a kid who is starting to understand the value of money. He has mentioned more than once that he wants to save his money for an iPad.

At this moment, I am challenged and inspired by my 6-year-old son's generosity. He doesn't have much, but he gives freely out of what he has. He sees a need of a friend, and doesn't just ask God to provide, but allows himself to be a provider.

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the seemingly unending needs and hurts in this world of ours, and I become paralyzed. I don't do anything. Or at other times, I shut off my empathy response, and become solely focused on myself. Again, the result is that I don't do anything.

But in my heart of hearts, I want to be generous.

I want to value and cherish others. I want to see that what I can offer to others is important. And I want to more deeply understand that generosity has been extended to me.

This is my prayer today:

Thank you, God, for all that I have been given.
Help me to love and give generously.

10 Things I Learned in August

At the end of each month, I share things that I learned. This habit helps me pay attention to life, myself, and God's presence. It's my way of reflecting and celebrating. In no particular order, here are 10 things I learned this month:

1. Coconut oil can treat infant cradle cap. 

Cradle cap is a form of skin condition that Aria had which caused her scalp to be flakey and crusty. Our doctor told us it would simply go away at some point. But then my friend Jeanne tipped me off that rubbing coconut oil on the skin would do the trick. We rubbed some coconut oil on Aria's head, gently combed the skin on her scalp, and like magic, no more scaly skin.

2. Parenthood is about carrying long term vision and hopes for your children.

I've been thinking a lot recently about what kinds of people I want my kids to become. Empathetic. Resilient. Creative. As I mine my heart for these hopes, I feel challenged. How am I modeling these to my kids? How am I, as their parent, coaching and nurturing them into these qualities? This is probably a whole blog post for another time.

3. Netflix has a series called Chef's Table, and it's beautiful. 

Each episode enters the kitchen and life of a renowned chef, and explores his or her unique passions and worldviews. It's very much like Jiro Dreams of Sushi (which is a great documentary).

4. Keep only those things that speak to your heart. Then take the plunge and discard all the rest. 

I discussed this life habit more here, after reading the powerful book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo. Truly, this concept resonates deeply for me. As I think about my life's activities, relationships, time, and tasks, I keep asking the same question, "Is this thing speaking to my heart? Is it life-giving? Is is deepening my joy?" As I ask myself these questions, I have so much clarity about what I need to keep or let go.

5. I'm now a soccer mom with a minivan and three kids. 

Um, yeah. I'm a living cliche. I've suddenly entered into this new stage of life where I constantly have a baby strapped onto my torso, a purse that's stocked with diapers and crackers, and am chauffeuring kids to school and activities. I thought graduating from college was a big adult milestone, but this parenthood gig is a whole other beast.

6. If it weren't for my husband, I'd be a less courageous minister and leader. 

Steve and I have been partnered in ministry and leadership for as long as we've known each other. We have mentored people, taught seminars, led missions teams, and developed new ministries together. And all along the way, he has continued to be my biggest advocate. There have been so many times I have been filled with self-doubt that threatened to paralyze me from taking risks in leadership. But then my husband will encourage, challenge, and support me in a way that propels me into more confidence. He's the steady voice of, "Of course you can do it," that leads me to saying yes to speaking at a conference for the first time, and the voice of, "Your wisdom and input is needed," that helps me to speak up rather than stay silent. I do not take this man or our partnership for granted, and for the billionth time am grateful for my choice to marry him.

7. My kids are Michael Jackson fans. 

Their favorite and most requested is "the zombie song" (Thriller), but really they love it all. I am dancing for joy that we don't have to listen to children's music or the Frozen soundtrack. Bow to the King of Pop.

8. Sometimes Amazon gives you a refund, and doesn't require you to return the item. 

This happened to us several times this month. We had to return several items (that either didn't fit or work), and Amazon sent us our money back or a replacement with a message saying, "No need to return the original item." Thank you, Amazon!

9. This little squishy is 6 months old. 

I love how much joy increases in our home and family because of her! And I am saying this despite being completely and utterly sleep deprived for the last 6 months.

10. There are several wonderful historical fiction books set during World War II that are worth reading: All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr and The Nightengale by Kristin Hannah.

I somehow began reading these simultaneously, one on Kindle and one hardcopy from the library. Both are so poignant and lovely and tear-inducing.

The Joy of Simplifying and Letting Go

Do you feel like there is too much to do, and not enough time to do it? Do you feel overwhelmed, like you don't have enough time or space in your life?

Maybe you need to simplify. Maybe you need to let go.

A shaping principle of my life is this: identify the "main things," and put those in first. In other words, determine what is most important to you. Your family relationships? Your faith? Your job? A particular project? Learning a new skill? Put those main things into your life, and fit the smaller, less important things around those. 

There may be things that are on your To Do List that you may need to let go. Because guess what? We don't have unlimited time and energy. We have particular units of time (days, weeks, months), and therefore have to choose how we spend that time. 

Last week I did a thorough overhaul of my clothes closet and dresser. I emptied both out completely, and began a process of deciding what to keep and what to let go. I kept only what gave me a sense of joy - clothes that I actually wear, clothes that I truly enjoy. In the end, I had two garbage bags filled with stuff that I gave away. The result was a closet and dresser that were simplified, decluttered, and only contained things worth keeping. 

"Keep only those things that speak to your heart. Then take the plunge and discard all the rest." - Marie Kondo

I believe that same process can be helpful as we think about our tasks and responsibilities. Let's be thoughtful about what we make time for.

There are all sorts of obligations and errands to do. There is an endless barrage of information, articles, TV shows, and emails that could fill our time. If we're not mindful, those things could completely overwhelm us and rob us of tending to what really matters.

Each day I have the capacity to do a particular amount of tasks. Today, for instance, my main things are: make a big batch of chili, do 30 minutes of yoga, do work email, write a blog post.

Those are on my To Do List. There are other things that I hope I can do, but may need to let them go (at least for now). For those items, I put them on a Maybe To Do List or a Do Not Do List. These two lists only exist in my mind, but perhaps I really should write them down as a practice of mindfulness. In any case, I need to let go of things that won't realistically fit into my day. These include take a nap (Maybe To Do...it sounds lovely), read all the articles in Feedly (Do Not Do. In fact, I'd love to declutter Feedly by unsubscribing from a bunch of things), clean the fridge (Maybe To Do...because really, who cares?).

For me, simplifying and letting go is a necessary practice. It allows me to be truly present to what is most important, to experience life with joy and freedom, and to be a good steward of my time and energy.

The Abiding Life

"Abide in me, and I will abide in you. Just as the branch cannot produce fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. The one who abides in me while I abide in him produces much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing."

These words of Jesus are my life's mantra. My soul resonates with this invitation to make my home in Jesus, and allow him to be at home in me.

As someone who longs to live a life that bears good fruit, I constantly need to be reminded of the true source of that fruit. It doesn't come from me. When I do life on my own, I am a wreck. I am self-focused, anxious, and impatient.

But when I abide in Jesus, something beautiful happens. I have the pleasure of being connected to the source of love, joy, and peace. And as I stay connected to the source, that love, joy, and peace can flow outward into the world and people around me.

Today I am abiding in Jesus as I work. Today I am abiding in Jesus as I solo parent while my husband is away. Today I am abiding in Jesus as I am in relationships and conversations with people.

Today I am abiding in Jesus as he abides in me.

Empty Yet Full

"I feel like I have very little energy, but still so much to give."

This is what I told a friend the other day while we chatted on the phone.

Physically, I am downright tired. Halfway through this pregnancy with our third child, I am waddling around with a heavy belly. Every movement takes more effort, sleep is an uncomfortable battle, and I need to muster up all my internal resources to just make it through the day. After our two kids get into bed, and the dishes are done, and I can finally just lay down, I feel spent.

And yet...

There is something happening in the deeper parts of me that is energizing. I feel my spirit filling and stirring with love and joy and hope. I have a growing sense of vision for my own life, and a confidence that I have so much to pour into other people. When I think about our growing family, relationships with friends and neighbors, and even interactions with strangers, I get excited about the possibilities of experiencing more of this love, joy, and hope. And I feel certain that the pool of resources doesn't come from me, but that I have unlimited access to it.

"If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink." This is the invitation that reverberates in my soul these days. Embrace your emptiness, and be filled.

And as it goes from a nice thought to an experienced reality, the invitation and Inviter seems like the best gift I could ever dream of receiving.

True Belonging

In two months our family will ship a car and large container over the Pacific Ocean, crossing our fingers that our things will arrive in Hawaii without being lost at sea. We will board an airplane, and for several hours in the sky, have no geographical place to call home. We’ll be leaving the familiar, on our way to the new, and momentarily living in-between.

The image that comes to mind is that of Dorothy, being caught up in a great cyclone, and swept from Kansas into the mysterious Land of Oz. In the cyclone itself is chaos, uncertainty, and disengagement. But it is the very thing that brings Dorothy to new discoveries of the world and herself. 

A year and a half ago, our decision to move our family to a new place was catalyzed, in significant part, to an image of a ship being steered into fog. And here we begin to find ourselves, in a fog headed toward a new place.

In this interim and in-between, I sense a divine invitation to find my belonging not in a particular place or to a particular people, but to find it in God. Because isn’t that the deeper reality? Our true belonging is found in God. In him we abide and nestle, and are held in eternal security. Everything else is volatile and perishable.

But to believe in my belonging is a challenge. I have become rooted to many things and people. I know who I am in this current place. To leave that means to dismantle and disidentify. And that takes some courage.

Instead of hustling about to create my own makeshift place of belonging, I am choosing to dwell in this neutral zone of transition. I am embracing an emptying for the sake of making space for reliance and dependence on God. I am abiding in Him, and finding rest and peace and joy.

I am letting go, and with hope, believing that I belong to a God who is good and trustworthy.

Waiting In the Darkness

Holy Saturday, sometimes called The Great Sabbath or Silent Saturday, is the day of Jesus resting silently in the tomb. 

Ultimately, Easter is about life. It’s about resurrection and revival and new life. It’s about hope in something so true and eternal, we’re still talking about it today, thousands of years later. It’s the story of a God who enters into our lives and in the face of death, gives way to eternal life. 

But before that, before the life and resurrection, there is a waiting period, a length of time when there is a body laying in a tomb, and there is disappointment and darkness. And there’s waiting. Anyone else feel like they’re waiting? 

Life is full of of these in-between, darkness moments. 

Maybe in some area of your life it feels like darkness. Like you are stuck between the pain of Friday and the not-yet-realized hope of Sunday, a place where you are waiting for God to do something. Maybe there is a place of disappointment, of having a dream die, or a relationship end, and you’re just waiting. 

Two years after having our son Aaron, Steve and I decided that we were ready to continue growing our family. 

In November 2010, we got pregnant. But there was a miscarriage. I experienced some bleeding around the 5th week of pregnancy, and a miscarriage was confirmed soon after. We were saddened, but knew that early-term miscarriages are common. We continued trying to get pregnant. 

In March of 2011, we were pregnant again. At our 7-week doctor’s check-up, we were prepared to see a visual of the baby and hear his or her heartbeat. As the doctor turned on the ultrasound equipment, she asked Steve if he wanted to record the moment on his camera. Several seconds later, as she looked at the ultrasound, her tone changed, “You may want to turn off the camera. This doesn’t look good.” She explained to us that there was no heartbeat, and that she couldn’t locate a fetus. The next week, we had a follow-up ultrasound with the same results, and that's when the doctor confirmed the miscarriage. We were told that my body still needed to expel the remaining tissue. That was a particularly difficult time of waiting. We had close friends and family praying with us, knowing that a miscarriage was pretty certain, but still holding on to some hope that there might be a miraculous turn of events. It took several weeks, but my body finally expelled the tissue from the miscarried baby. 

We felt a deep sense of grief and darkness. We both took several days off of work, and also reached out to our community of friends. Friends and family prayed and mourned with us. We cried over our unborn babies, cried over the hope of knowing them and seeing them in this life. 

When we live life long enough, we encounter moments of death and darkness. Doors close, relationships end, hopes die. And we’re stuck in darkness, longing for breakthrough that hasn’t yet happened. 

So what do we do in that moment? When we’re in that moment of darkness and in-between at the tomb, there are different responses we can have.

1. We can despair - we can lose all hope, and blame God, and run from God. We can believe that death is the end, and lose hope in things, and just sort of stop expecting anything to change.
   
   

2. We can be in denial - we fake that we’re okay, put on our strong face to mask the pain, we escape. We have these simplistic answers and forced optimism. Keep calm and carry on! Just trust in the Lord, but don’t do it in a way that’s messy or takes too long! Denial is the message that if you’re feeling disappointed or grief, you just need to have more faith and get over it.
   
   
3. We can despair or be in denial, or there’s a third option. WAIT ON GOD. We hate that one. More specifically, I hate that one. Waiting is hard. Waiting is not glamorous. It takes away all our control, no guarantees, and puts us in a position of submission and vulnerability. 

But waiting on God is also courageous. Waiting on God in the darkness is saying, “Okay God, I don’t know what’s going on and how this is going to end. But I’m choosing to press into you with all that is in me.” It’s the place of crying out to him with our true selves, and not just putting on the fake happy facade. 

It’s not passive, it’s not escape, it’s not hopelessness. It’s connecting to God, listening to him, doing things with him, resting in him, grieving with him. And it’s a holding out hope that he’s the God of resurrection and new life, even if all we have is the tiniest seed of faith.

And God is with us always, even in the darkness and waiting. Some of the most significant moments in Jesus’ life took place in darkness: his birth, his arrest, his death. For us in the spiritual journey, waiting on God in the darkness can yield extraordinary events. 

In my own experience of waiting in darkness with the Lord, there are a few things that happened:

I learned that God endures with us. 

Through his own death, Jesus enters into death with us. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? His cries echo the despair and lostness of the world’s pain. It is a cry of abandonment and agony. How incredible is that? We have a Lord who doesn’t just stand at a distance from pain, but he enters into it and suffers with us. 

When Steve and I had those miscarriages, I felt Jesus draw so close to us. It was counter-intuitive to me. I suppose I figured that in really painful moments, God would feel far away. But it was just the opposite. I remember the moment a few days after the second miscarriage. Steve and I were sitting in our living room with our friend and staff supervisor Jen. Jen had been our mentor since our earliest days on staff, she had led us through pre-marital counseling, had been at our wedding, and now she was praying and crying with us over our miscarried babies. And as she sat with us, I was overcome with the deepest sensation of safety, comfort, and awareness of Jesus with us.

In my journal, I wrote this: “I feel the power, goodness, and mercy of the Father now more than I have in the last few years. I am more certain than ever that God is the only thing worthy of our hope and confidence.” In many ways, God poured out his love and comfort into our family that was unique to this season of darkness and waiting.

Another thing that happens in the darkness is that God promises his presence.

There are times in life when we are in the dark and God feels far away. I’ve had moments when I am barely making it with the Lord, and really struggling to see him and hear him. I’m going to guess that many of us have had that experience. It feels like God is far or even absent. We feel abandoned. 

But Psalm 139 tells us that there is no place we can go to escape the presence of God. 

“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”

Here’s the thing that I find so comforting and reassuring: God’s presence does not depend on us. It does not depend on how we feel. It does not depend on how in tune we are with him. The grace of God is that he doesn’t let go of us, even when we are completely unable to even come to him or pray or feel hopeful. Nothing will separate us from him. Even in the hiddenness and darkness, he’s with us. 

God endures with us, he promises his presence, and third, God cultivates new life.

In a book called The Holy Longing, Ronald Rohlheiser says this about the spiritual journey: 

“It is a process of transformation within which we are given both new life and new spirit. It begins with suffering and death, moves onto the reception of new life, spends some time grieving the old and adjusting to the new, and finally, only after the old life has been truly let go of, is new spirit given for the life we are already living.” 

For the Israelites, there was Egypt, wilderness, and Promised Land. Or in the life cycle of a butterfly, there is larvae, cocoon, butterfly.

The darkness is a holding environment where transformation happens.  We may not feel different or be doing anything different, but God is working to bring forth something new. It’s like the 9 months of pregnancy before a baby is born, and it’s incubating in the womb. It’s Jesus in the tomb, before being resurrected. 

Oftentimes, in the darkness, the new life that God is cultivating is internal. He’s changing us. He’s freeing us from fear or shame. He’s breaking our bondage to idols. He’s gently coaxing in us the fruit of love, joy, and hope. He’s deepening our intimacy and dependence on him. 

After our two miscarriages, we continued trying to get pregnant again. Months and months went by, and nothing. 

On November 10th, we had significant time of prayer with a friend named Ann. Ann was the wife of one of Steve’s seminary professors, and they had a similar experience of miscarriages while trying to conceive their second child. They had a powerful prayer encounter with a friend, and right after that they got pregnant. When Ann heard about our journey, she had a sense that praying for us could have a similar outcome. After Ann prayed with us, both Steve and I believed that a breakthrough had occurred in the spiritual realm, and that we would get pregnant soon after. 

We were a bit perplexed (and disappointed) when December and January passed with no pregnancy.

Finally, in February 2012, we took a pregnancy test, and it was positive! We were thrilled, but also hesitant to get too excited, given our history with miscarriages. At our 6-week doctor’s check-up, we were ready to have the doctor confirm the pregnancy. In the doctor’s office, our doctor told us that at 6 weeks, we could expect to see the yolk sac, and possibly a tiny dot-like image of a baby. The image of the ultrasound popped up on the screen, and we very clearly saw the form of a baby, with a head and limbs. I remember thinking, “Uh, that’s weird...it looks way more like an actual baby than a little dot.” The doctor was shocked. She measured the image baby’s head, did some calculations, and exclaimed, “You are definitely not just 6 weeks pregnant! You’re at least a full 13 weeks!” In an instant, we went from hoping to simply confirming the existence of a tiny, barely-there baby, to actually seeing our nearly second-trimester baby’s moving arms and legs. We then got to hear a strong, healthy heartbeat. 

Apparently, unknown to us, we actually had conceived a baby in early December (right after having that prayer time with Ann). For two full months we were pregnant and didn’t even know it. 

Our daughter Alexandra was born on August 7, 2012. 

She is our reminder of the resurrection power of Jesus. Our reminder that death and darkness isn’t the end. When I look at her, I remember God’s faithfulness as we wait in the darkness, and remember that he’s the bringer of new life.

Jesus has triumphed over death, has resurrected, and is making all things new. That’s what Easter is. Easter is Jesus. Easter means everything Jesus has been saying about God, about life, about death, about faith, about love, about forgiveness, about suffering, about giving over your life…it's all true. Easter means God, who created everything in the beginning, is now recreating everything.

Whatever death and disappointment and darkness you are in, it is not the end of the story. Jesus is the end. So in the midst of the unrealized dreams, unfulfilled hopes, rejection, shame, brokenness, depression, whatever your disappointment, believe me when I tell you it is not the end. Deliverance and resurrection and breakthrough is coming. New life is on the other side. 

Hold on. Wait on God. Welcome him in the longing and hoping and the darkness. Cling to him with all your might, and hold on to his promise in Isaiah 25: 

"On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined. And he will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations. He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken. It will be said on that day, “Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.” 

In Jesus we have freedom and hope and renewal. In him we rise out from evil and death, and in him we have celebration and joy and new life.

Rhythm For Life

We all have rhythms in our lives. 

Some of them happen naturally, like the rhythm of eating breakfast in the morning. Other rhythms take intentionality and discipline, like the rhythm of spending time with a friend who lives farther away. 

A "rhythm for life" is a simple statement of personal rhythms that you choose to practice to intentionally center your life on what is important to you.

If we want a certain kind of life, it's the daily and weekly rhythms that will determine whether or not that life actually becomes your reality. 

For instance, I want to be as physically healthy as possible. Rhythms that help my physical health include sleeping about 7-8 hours per night, doing physical activity like yoga or running, eating vegetables, having one day a week of rest. These are the things that nurture my physical health, and so I choose to practice these rhythms. 

A side note about health - our physical, mental, emotional, social health are very much interconnected. If we're nurturing one area of our lives, then oftentimes other areas are effectively nurtured.

When was the last time you considered your own life rhythms? Are you satisfied with them? Is there an area of your life where you want to change particular rhythms? Consider developing some personal rhythms for life that create space for what you want to do and who you want to be.

Creating a Rhythm for Life

The following reflections can help you develop a rhythm of life:

1. Who do you want to become? What is most important to you? What do you currently do to realize your goals and longings?
2. What practices and rhythms help you thrive spiritually, emotionally, physically, mentally? What hinders you? What is most life-giving to you?
3. Choose several rhythms or disciplines that arise from your desire for your life that suit your limits and realities. Begin your practice. 

Your rhythm for life can (and should) change when it begins to not fit. Life is full of transitions. Allow your rhythm for life to evolve as you grow and change. 

My Rhythm for Life

This isn't by any means extensive, but it captures some of the primary rhythms that are important for me right now:

• Begin and end each day with a quiet moment with God.
• Go through my Daily Checklist. 
• Stretch and do yoga.
• Read and reflect on Journey to the Cross, a Lent devotional. 
• Go for a run 2-3 times per week.
• Have regular dates with my husband.
• Meet with my spiritual director once a month.
• Have a weekly Sabbath.
• Talk and pray with Chante every two weeks. 

The Light Inside Us

The other night my son and I had the following conversation...

Aaron: Mom, did you know I have light inside me? And I can give it away to people.
Me: Really? Who have you given it to?
Aaron: I gave some away to Samantha in my class. And to Walter and his family. They are very sick, and don't have much of their own light.
Me: Oh, so we can give away our light to other people?
Aaron: Yeah, like this. (he closes his eyes, then deeply inhales and exhales) There, I shared my light with you!
Me: Oh, can I do that too?
Aaron: Yes. Let's do it together.
We both breathe our light toward each other. 
Me: Can we share our light with anyone?
Aaron: Sure! I have a ton of light to share with people. Especially people who are sad or sick.
Me: Well then let's keep sharing our light with people. Who else should we give it to?

In this manner, we continued sharing our light with people. People like my friend Ben, who's very sick. And our friend Sarah, who has been discouraged.

Sometimes I'm awestruck at how much can go on in a 4-year-old's spirit. Through my son, I was reminded of how simple and beautiful the world is.

May we all be conscious of our own light, and know how to share it with others today.

Rearranging Life

I feel like I'm constantly rearranging my life. Does anyone else experience this? I've heard that life is essentially a constant series of transitions. And the more I consider that, the more it rings true. The moment my world begins to feel settled, something changes, and I'm in the middle of some sort of transition.

This past month my 18-month old daughter Alex went from napping twice a day to once a day. In her two nap phase, I got into a pleasant groove. Her morning nap time would be my time to quietly engage with the day ahead, exercise, pray, and zip through some emails. Now that those morning naps have disappeared, I find myself having to rearrange life. Again.

I think the hardest adjustments for me are those important but not urgent things. Like exercise. There aren't any deadlines or exterior motivators for me exercising. But it's something important to me. Exercise is vital not only to my physical health, but also for my emotional, mental, spiritual, and even social health. When physical activity is a part of my daily or weekly rhythms, I'm more joyful, connected to myself and God, and way more able to give my best to my work and family. Conversely, without regular exercise, I'm generally more cranky and sluggish, and less disciplined.

So here I am, readjusting my exercise rhythms to fit the current realities of life.

What used to work: having a gym pass and doing 2-3 workouts every week. Nope, that doesn't work nowadays. I need physical activity that I can either do at home or with my toddler.

For now, there are a few options that fit.

One is jogging in the morning. In the warmth of the morning, I tuck Alex into the jogging stroller (maybe the best $400 baby purchase we made), and do a 2-mile run around the neighborhood. It gives both of us some time outside, and is a nice way to start the day.

Two is workout videos. There are so many options online, and I don't even bother purchasing anything. YouTube and Amazon Prime are filled with everything you could want. I'm currently trying more yoga to build flexibility and core strength. Two good videos are Jillian Michael's Yoga Meltdown (and really anything by Jillian), and Beginner Yoga with Tara Stiles (which has the basics).

My current weekly exercise is generally a 2-mile run one day, then either yoga or higher intensity cardio & strength training on the following day. I'm trying to exercise Monday-Friday, with two weekend rest days.

That's the arrangement that works in the present reality. Here's to rearranging life in the midst of transition, and being flexible with change.

A Letter to Myself On My 33rd Birthday

Dear Larissa, 

Happy 33rd birthday!

You're in your THIRTIES - a vague time period that, as a kid, seemed to sing of old, moderately disillusioned lady teachers wearing pearls and frocks. Clearly that was a weird, immature perception. Your thirties have been awesome.

This year you enjoyed a whole lot of parenting moments, spiritual formation, and risk taking. With learning how to do life with a part-time ministry job, two young kids, a husband in full-time ministry, living in community with seven other friends, and planting a missional church, it has been abundant with chaos, messiness, adventure, and fun. Life is stretching you to grow in grace and humility.

In fact, a lot of this year has been characterized by embracing imperfection and experiencing God's grace. You consider yourself a recovering perfectionist, which involves accepting how things are rather than how you imagine they should be. Your kids help this process along, constantly reminding you that joy and sacred moments and creativity can be found in engaging with the present moment.

Also, you are learning how vital the habit of gratitude is. The simple practice of gratefulness continues to deepen your joy, contentment, and peace. Especially during those days when you have fussy children, a pile of laundry to do, and the inclination to tear your hair out.

You're a little more authentic and courageous these days. Believing more and more in your inherent value and worth, you're less prone to insecurity and fear. You are taking more risks as a leader, making decisions out of conviction, and more free from what others may think of you. Less mom fear, and more just being a mom. If this is the trajectory that comes with progressing in age, then bring it on!

You and Steve are smack dab in the middle of making some pretty major life transitions. This has been both frightening and exhilarating, and has been such an area of growth and partnership in your marriage. I wonder if, years later, this will be a year that was particularly foundational and catalytic for "the rest of your life." It has been a time rich with God's tangible and supernatural presence and voice.

There is so much to be grateful for. Two healthy, joy-filled, unique children. A marriage that is a relationship of vulnerability, faith, and partnership. An expanding vision for how our lives might fit into God's greater purposes. Friendships that are life-giving and faith-expanding. A God who is kind, good, and with you in every moment of every day.

- Larissa

Today was a good day. Here's what you did:

Ate pumpkin chocolate chip cookies for breakfast

Fancied up the nails

 Lounged with these two munchkins

Drank a rose water martini

Bought some cute, comfy pewter flats

Had caramel brownies for dessert

Simple, Slow & Sacred Christmas

Here we are in the throes of the Christmas season.

For many of us, December brings ramped up schedules, lots of holiday parties, an overload of sugar, and some brand new toys to play with. The month can easily become a frenzy of activity and stuff.

But it doesn't really need to be that way. We can slow down to enjoy the Advent season. We can be present to the people around us, and be present to God's deeper story behind all the tinsel and flashy lights.

This week, in a conversation with my spiritual director, I exclaimed, "I made a conscious decision to NOT do a big gingerbread house project with my kids!" She laughed, completely understanding that this was a thing to celebrate.

In a moment when I could have given in to the pressure to be Super Mom who does Pinterest-worthy crafts, I was able to choose to be more present to my kids. I had the self-awareness that doing a huge, messy baking endeavor (while possibly fun) would have probably resulted in more stress than it was worth.

So that's how I'm doing the holidays this month, friends. Simple and slower. This is a very intentional choice, which I believe will lead to greater levels of joy. For those who want to join me in the spirit of a Simple, Slow & Sacred Christmas, here are a few essential disciplines that I am practicing:

My 8 Rules for a Simple, Slow & Sacred Christmas

1. Do less. Focus on what is really important, and let go of the other stuff. Make space for quiet and rest.

2. Eat slowly. Instead of eating on-the-go, or cramming down food at parties, eat mindfully. Enjoy and appreciate food. Savor the good stuff.

3. Be present. Rather than thinking about something that you need to do, or something that is going to happen, stay focused on the present moment. Be present to the people, actions, and environment around you.

4. Say no. You do not need to attend every event or participate in every activity. Enjoy the things you want to say yes to, and be free to say no to the extras. I am intentionally saying no to shopping malls, long to-do lists, Pinterest, and activities that feel obligatory.

5. Create sacred places or times of reflection. I've been reading through a Advent devotional called Embrace the Coming Light by my friend Eddy Ekmekji. We have an Advent candle that we light at dinnertime, and our family has been talking together about what each candle symbolizes. Build in times to reflect on God's presence and activity throughout the month.

6. Unplug. When we're constantly connected to email and internet, there are many interruptions and demands. Disconnect from TV, internet, and smart phones for a while. Have a daily media fast.

7. Focus on people. Attention can be drawn elsewhere, even when there are people right there in front of you. Connect with friends and family, and actually engage with them.

8. Single-task. Do one thing at a time. Enjoy it. Breathe.

Discovering the Sacred in the Mundane

As I embrace my role as a parent, I am letting go of other parts of my life that are flashier and more dramatic. A lot of my time these days is spent tending to mundane things, such as changing diapers, cooking meals, and picking up toys that little hands scattered throughout the house.

It is in these unremarkable things where I am discovering sacred moments. There are moments of seeing God's divine presence, noticing him working in me and through me, in surprising ways.

Serving is sacred. Oftentimes I feel frustrated with the unending needs to tend to. Someone constantly needs something (milk! a bath! waaaah!), and I don't have a second to spare on untucking my skirt from my underwear before answering the front door (yes, that really happened). But in all the inglorious serving, I get to choose, yes choose, to lay down my own needs for the sake of loving others. Oh right, that's at the core of my faith.

Humility is sacred. Every fiber of my being wants to be noticed and affirmed and celebrated. But so much of the mundane is hidden from watching eyes. Young children don't really shower you with gratitude. In fact, they take it very much for granted that their needs will get met. And so I find a more refined humility being birthed in me. It is a humility that is willing to extend compassion and help that goes unnoticed. It means being aware of my limitations, and asking for help. In essence, it is a letting go of my own ego and self, in submission to God.

Presence is sacred. Today I spent a long time just being with my daughter, delighting in holding her and listening to her baby babbling. It was not productive, at least not in the sense of checking a task off from a to-do list. But it was a joy-filled act of sharing a moment with each other, and being in relationship together without distraction. In these moments of being present with my children, I experience contentment, gratitude, and heightened awareness of God's presence with me.

Creating a home that welcomes and nurtures people is sacred. Washing dishes so another meal can be enjoyed together is sacred. Reading and playing with children to expand their imaginations and foster creativity is sacred. Meeting with other parents at the park to have companionship in the child-rearing journey is sacred. Embracing a child after he messed up and you yelled at him is sacred. Stopping to pay attention to the need of a friend is sacred.

God is in the mundane parts of life, and if you look intently you might discover surprisingly sacred moments. Do you see him around you?

Marshmallows & Meetings With My Son

A few weeks ago, Aaron asked if he and I could have a meeting. Laughing at this unexpected request, I said, "Okay! What should we do at our meeting?"

"We should have hot chocolate with marshmallows, and pray," was Aaron's answer.

Prayer, in our family, is part of our daily lives. We pray for other people, we thank God for our food, we ask for healing when someone gets hurt, we listen for God's voice. It is an incredible experience to do listening prayer with a young child, by the way. 

We also have lots of meetings in our home. Steve and I are both college ministers, meaning that a lot of our work revolves around meeting with various staff and students.

So I suppose Aaron's idea to have a prayer meeting made sense.

And that is just what we did. The first order of business was making hot chocolate, topped with homemade marshmallows that we had made earlier in the morning. We then proceeded to pray for grandparents, neighbors, cousins, and each other. Aaron also asked God to heal my back (which has been sore lately) and to give him patience and kindness. I'd say it was a pretty quality meeting. 

After a lifetime of only having store-bought marshmallows, the homemade version is truly a different experience. They are way fluffier, softer, and sweeter. I tried roasting one over a stovetop flame, and it immediately melted into a gooey mess. 

To make marshmallows, a stand mixer comes in handy since there is so much whisking and whipping involved. Also necessary is a candy thermometer to reach a particular temperature. We cut them into star shapes with a small cookie cutter, and made the remaining pieces into mini marshmallows. 

Homemade Marshmallows (from Family Meals by Maria Helm Sinskey)

print this recipe

Ingredients:

1/4 cup cornstarch (cornflower)
1/2 cup confectioners' sugar
oil for pan
1 1/2 tablespoons unflavored gelatin
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 1/4 cups granulated sugar
1 tablespoon light corn syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions:

In a bowl, whisk together the cornstarch and confectioners' sugar. Line the pan with aluminum foil, then lightly oil the foil. Sift 1/4 cup of the sugar mixture into the pan, and tilt to coat the bottom and sides. Leave any excess in the bottom. 

Pour 1/2 cup water into the bowl of a stand mixer. Sprinkle the gelatin over the water, whisk together, then let stand for 5 minutes to soften. Whisk in the salt and cream of tartar. Fit the mixer with the whisk attachment and beat on high speed until fluffy, about 2-3 minutes. 

Put 1/2 cup water into a saucepan. Stir in the granulated sugar and the corn syrup. Place over medium high heat, bring to a boil, and cook, without stirring, until the mixture turns pale tan, about 250 degrees on a candy thermometer. 

Turn the mixer on medium speed, and drizzle the hot sugar mixture into the gelatin mixture, aiming in between the beater and the side of the bowl. Be very careful!

Increase the speed to high and whip the mixture until it is white and thick, about 5 minutes. Add the vanilla and beat until the mixture cools, about 20 minutes. 

Pour into the prepared pan. Dip a knife in cold water and smooth the surface. Let a skin form on the surface, about 1 hour. Dust with 1/4 cup of the sugar mixture, and let rest overnight at cool room temperature. 

Line a pan with parchment paper and dust with the sugar mixture. Dip a small cookie cutter into the sugar and cut out marshmallows. Or, use a knife to cut into 1 1/2-inch squares. Layer the marshmallows in the pan, dusting with more sugar. Cover tightly and store at room temperature for up to two weeks.

The Joy of Creation

We are meant to create.

Inside each of us is a deep desire to create something that did not exist before. When we create things of substance and beauty, we find joy, fulfillment, and meaning.

No matter our education, abilities, vocation, or roles, we all have opportunities to create. It might be a piece of visual art, a young child's mastery of a new skill, a communication system, or a gift for a friend. Productivity at its best involves active creation of things that add more value to the world around us.

Here are a few things I am creating:

• this blog post
• a collaborative project among visionaries and artists to raise money for an important cause
• spiritual, emotional, and social growth in my young son
• a tomato plant from seed
• new depth in friendships

What are you creating today?

My Daily Checklist

If you're like me, you may feel challenged in the area of time management. Every day there are urgent tasks, important but not urgent tasks, and urgent/important tasks that I need to get done. Personally, I struggle the most with the important but not urgent tasks. Those are the things that I value, but that can easily get bumped into the "I'll get to it at some point" category. For me, those things mostly involve self-care and relationships. If I'm not incredibly mindful and proactive, I can go through a day (or even a few days) without doing the things that are most important.

One tool that has been helpful is The Daily Checklist. I learned about it from Leo at Zen Habits (an incredible resource in cultivating healthy habits). Put 5-7 things you want to do on a daily basis. You can change it any time. Allow it to help you stay focused on what's important.

Here is my Daily Checklist:*

• Exercise
• Spend time with God
• Spend time with family
• Eat fruits and vegetables
• Write

Simple, right? I've been using the Daily Checklist all week, and have experienced so much peace and contentment. Each day, as I do these tasks, I am confident that I am tending to the important things. 

* I use the to do list app Any.DO, so have easy access to my Daily Checklist from my iPhone and computer. It is my favorite productivity app. Get it.

Advent Calendar and Other Christmas Traditions

This year our family is enjoying new Christmas traditions as we simplify the holidays. 

We have a tree as usual. Steve and I had agreed on a small tree this year, given the size of our Hawaii apartment. Apparently, "small" meant 5-6 feet tall to my husband, while I was thinking 3-4 feet. He went to get the tree, so he won that one. Since our Christmas decorations are all boxed up far away in Los Angeles, we are decorating with homemade ornaments made from recycled materials and objects found in nature. It has been fun foraging for random items for our tree. We are currently searching for a large starfish to top the tree. If you have any leads, do tell.

Another thing we have is an advent calendar that I made with ribbon, twine, and card stock. Every day until Christmas, we are counting down the days with a new Christmas activity that we can do as a family. Some of the activities include: bake and decorate cookies, watch a Christmas movie, string popcorn, send holiday cards to friends, and make a gingerbread house. 

We decided on simple, scaled-back gift exchanges among both sides of our extended family. In fact, one side of the family is forgoing gifts completely, and instead pooling together our money and time, and giving to someone in need. 

Loads of Christmas fun going on in our home. How about yours?