Destinations: Sedona, Arizona

Taking the time for a vacation, while fun, is often a difficult thing to do. It is hard to justify time away from the demands and business of every day life. And it is maybe even harder to justify that same time away, when your family will stay behind.

Which is why, in 20 plus years of friendship, I had never taken a trip with my girlfriends.

Until now.

Usually spread across three states and two different time zones, one summer we had the chance to laugh and talk live in the town where we met. That day, our lazy pool party afternoon slipped away much too quickly, but not too quickly for us to commit to a girls’ weekend the following spring.

We had few criteria for our destination – somewhere new for each of us, somewhere warm, something active to do, good food, and a patio.

We settled on the stunning red rocks of Sedona and started making plans.

I’m all for feeling like I’m on vacation time once wheels hit the runway at the airport, but sometimes a little more effort is required to get to your destination. Making the time investment to drive the two hours from Phoenix is not unlike the time investment to maintain solid friendships. It is entirely worth it.

The beautiful desert setting of Phoenix and Scottsdale slipped behind our rental car as we navigated the scenic drive to Sedona. We watched and waited for the red rocks to appear, and while the scenery slowly changed over time, it wasn’t until we were about to Sedona that we saw the stunning red peaks. And within minutes, we were slowing into peaceful, elegant Sedona, nestled among the towering rocks.

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We chose the Arabella Hotel Sedona for its central location, great online reviews, and budget price. We planned to be outside more than in, so were careful to check out its patio areas and be sure there was a balcony. If hiking is part of your Sedona plan, you’ll find the Arabella Hotel to be nicely located in close proximity to some great hiking, only a short drive away. In fact, the Margs Draw trailhead is adjacent to the property, allowing easy exploration of Munds Mountain Wilderness. Even if you’re not a hiker, throw on your tennis shoes and walk up the short trail behind the hotel for some spectacular views. It’s worth a visit at both sunrise and sunset, or really, anytime you’d like to look at something that takes your breath away.

We had a great experience there — clean room, comfy beds, enjoyable outdoor spaces, free continental breakfast — and it didn’t hurt that the Elote Café, with its delicious Southwestern and Mexican cuisine, sits on property.

Speaking of the Elote Café, if you are wondering if you should visit, you should. Go early and plan to wait a while (no reservations here). But as we’ve discussed, sometimes a little time investment is worthwhile. Once you’ve got your name in for a table, get in the margarita line and remember to respond with an enthusiastic “yes!” when they ask if you’d like some house seasoned popcorn to enjoy while you wait.

If you’re wondering what to order, get the Elote corn (fire roasted corn with spicy mayo, lime, and cotija cheese), and the Shrimp con Espinacas (grilled wild mexican shrimp with sauteed spinach in chipotle crema) or Carnitas (slow-roasted Niman Ranch pork shoulder with sun-dried hatch red chile sauce and crema).

Elote Café was one of our favorite food stops in Sedona, so it makes sense that chef/owner Jeff Smedstad was named a James Beard Award Semi-Finalist for 2017 Best Chef: Southwest. So if I haven’t convinced you to visit, hopefully that will.

Although pink jeep tours (Google it — it’s a thing) and helicopter tours abound, if you’re able, hiking is the way to really see the beauty of Sedona. It’s one thing to gaze upon the red rocks, and another to be entirely immersed in them. If you’re not able (or plain don’t want to), the jeep tours are off-road and will get you out in nature.

We found the guide book Sedona’s Top 10 Hikes by Dennis Andres invaluable in planning and enjoying our hikes. The guide is comprehensive, sharing logistical information (parking, prices, restrooms, etc.) as well as historical background and great commentary on each hike. It is also quick and easy to reference and small enough to carry on the trail. And most importantly, we found Dennis’ assessment of trail difficulty to be accurate, which aided in selecting appropriate adventures to suit our varying skill levels. If you wonder why that was important to me, ask me about the time I thought I’d die on Kauai.

We visited in May, which meant desert flowers were in bloom but the late mornings and afternoons were beginning to get warm. As such, we chose to start our days with an early hike to take advantage of the cooler temperatures and use the rest of our day for less taxing activity like long lunches and dips in the pool.

My favorite hike was the Brins Mesa Trail. It was a moderate uphill hike to Brins Mesa along Mormon Canyon. It was a lovely outing with the views becoming increasingly spectacular the higher we climbed. From the Mesa, we crossed over toward Wilson Mountain for a rest and snack. For this roughly 5-mile hike, we carried a lightweight daypack with food and water bottles, as well as an additional backpack with a hydration bladder. For the daypack, I love these Eddie Bauer Stowaway Daypacks for travel because they stow easily into an onboard pouch but offer a lot of space. As always, sturdy hiking shoes or trail tennis shoes are a must, and plan on them taking on a red tinge from the soil if you don’t scrub them. We had the trail mostly to ourselves on the way up, but began to cross paths with other hikers on the way back.

A much more leisurely hike is Red Rock Crossing along Oak Creek near the base of Cathedral Rock. This trail is near a park, so it was much more populated with families and such. There are many lovely sights to enjoy on both sides of the creek, particularly toward Cathedral Rock. We were unable to locate a footbridge so crossed the creek barefoot twice (probably not a good idea but we’re here to tell about it). Our only disappointment with this hike was that it wasn’t far enough from civilization.

Big hikes in the morning means leisure in the afternoon. My favorite afternoon was spent with a long lunch with wine flights at Rene Restaurant. Rene is set in the charming Tlaquepaque Arts and Crafts Village, which is a beautiful setting for whiling away the day. Wander in and out of shops and galleries, and stop for a bite to eat. Rene has a peaceful courtyard patio that was a perfect place for a ladies’ lunch.

We had two other meals of note, at Bella Vita Ristorante and L’Auberge de Sedona’s Cress on Oak Creek. Bella Vita is a cozy, dinner-only restaurant with excellent service. From our hotel, it was a bit of a drive, but it would be an easy drive for those staying in West Sedona or a great option for dinner after a visit to nearby Jerome or Prescott.

The elegant Cress was our splurge dinner and a really enjoyable night. L’Auberge has two culinary options with indoor seating or patio dining on the banks of Oak Creek which allow diners to take in the lush and serene creek-side, such a contrast to the red rocks just moments away. Cress boasts a prix-fixe menu and allows reservations, where Etch Kitchen & Bar serves an a-la-carte menu and at the time of our visit did not take reservations. Both have an extensive wine list. The food is delicious and inventive, the plating is elegant, and the service here is impeccable — from our personable, attentive, and knowledgeable server to the efficient and friendly valet (complimentary!).

There are many other places to see and things to do in Sedona, but we didn’t have time for them all. For the spa-lover, there are many great options, although we chose other activities to fill our time. We did make a visit to one “tourist” stop, the Chapel of the Holy Cross. Despite the large crowds, which somewhat detracts from the serenity and sacredness of the place, the chapel itself is a wonder and the surrounding walkways offer spectacular panoramic views of the area. I’d suggest asking a hotel concierge or visitor center staff for the best time/day to visit to avoid the crowds. Parking was a harrowing experience on the busy afternoon we arrived, particularly for this driver.

Sedona is a fairly sleepy little town come nightfall, but that worked just fine for us. We were focused on taking advantage of the daylight hours to explore and simply take in all the beauty and peace that is Sedona. The adventures and downtime together nurtured our friendship. I am so glad we took the time.

Disclosure: This post contains affiliate links.
Image Credit: Alison Joyce (featured image, Brins Mesa trailhead, the Mitten, and Chapel of the Holy Cross)

Waiting on Spring: A Lesson in Contentment

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Our family has been sick, one person after the other, one illness followed by the next. Add to that various other life stressors which pop up at inopportune times between and during each hard stretch, and life starts to feel comically hopeless. Our hearts are hovering somewhere between the dark shadow of late Winter and the brightness of the Spring the groundhog under-promised but over-delivered.

When life gets hard, I put my head down and plow through whatever activity is necessary. I work through the to-do list, focus on the next task and slowly, things will turn. I move a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer and stuff a new one in. I sanitize the countertops again, take another bag of trash out, wash my cracking hands for what seems like the hundredth time that day, and remind my little people to wash their own hands and take another small sip of water. Then I check the list to see what’s next.

We just have to make it through one more night, I tell myself. Life will be better when we get through this.

But lately, we walk out of one mess into the next. We have just enough time to breath, catch up on housework, and make new plans before the next crisis comes along. Then the cycle repeats. We cancel the plans, and fall behind again on the housework. Grab your thermometer – we’re back on the wheel.

And I’m hearing Paul say, “…I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.” (Philippians 4:11b)

I ignore Paul for a moment, because I am, after all, a pretty content person, especially when it comes to things like belongings or my role in life. Then I hear it again and pause. Whatever the circumstances? That complicates things.

I’m under no illusion that I should expect comfort or ease as a Christian. In fact, I believe things can be quite the opposite. Yet here I am, always looking forward, waiting for the load to lighten or the clouds to part.

I’m seeing that the space between hopefulness and contentedness in the moment is more fuzzy and gray than I believed. Can I be content in this moment? Can I praise God for life as it is right now? Can I cling to the promise that He works things for my good?

I often remind myself to thank God for my blessings when life is hard. We are sick now, but thank you, Lord, for bodies that heal and access to healthcare when we need it. My car isn’t running today, but I am grateful to have the resources to get it repaired. I’m exhausted from the tasks and stress, but thank you, God, for a family that needs my care.

The relentless waves of tough times got me thinking there may be a lesson for me here and one morning, some verses in 1 Samuel 2 caught my eye. Here is Hannah, who ached and prayed (and prayed) for a child, praising God for the long-awaited gift of her son Samuel. Her prayer was broader than gratitude, though. Rather than simply thank God for Samuel, she praised Him for His faithfulness and His power. In fact, she spent almost the entire prayer doing just that.

I may be further from contentment than I knew.

Can I praise God not simply for what I have “left” but for who He is through it all?

For I know this: His greatness is not dependent on my circumstance.

Focusing on my changing circumstance and my wavering outlook leaves me buried in frustration and despair when the waves come too quickly, and reliant on my own strength to make it through with spirits intact. Focusing on an unchanging God despite my circumstance steadies me and gives me a hope far more substantive than I could generate on my own.

I finish the laundry, climb into bed, and offer words of praise to the One with all the world resting in His mighty hands. Then I breathe.

Image Credit: Ron Gaedke (Montezuma Valley)

Parties: Birthday, Pity, and Otherwise

I talked to a friend this morning about her simple birthday plans, and it brought to mind my own birthday a couple of months ago.

That day began with very simple celebration plans, and turned into not what we planned at all. The interruption in our day afforded me lots of thinking time — about what a birthday means to me and what makes a “good” birthday.

Some of you may know I lost a very special grandmother on my birthday eight years back. She was indescribably wonderful and my heart broke many times along the way as she declined rapidly out of this life.

It broke first when we learned the symptoms she was battling were attributed to cancer returning to her body after a first occurrence years prior. It broke again in the car outside the nursing home the day I left her bedside to journey back to my own home, knowing I would never see her again. It broke again in the hallway at work, where I took the birthday call my mom helped orchestrate. The one where my tired grandma told me she didn’t know what to say and we finally said goodbye. And it broke in the darkness of my bedroom as I sat on the floor with the phone and heard she had passed late that night.

Mixed in with the sadness of losing someone so dear on my special day was the bittersweet realization the day was now ours to share and exponentially more meaningful — my birthday now the sweet moment Jesus welcomed her to heaven.

We had always shared my birthday anyhow. Ironically, she was the type of grandparent who truly loved to celebrate her grandchildren’s birthdays. As a gifted cake decorator, she let each of us dream up the perfect birthday cake and then delivered it for our big day. And she always made arrangements to take us out for a special meal and shopping trip.

Those first few years made for a hard series of birthdays. Each year, my husband took me to breakfast for dinner at the same chain where she and I used to meet. The days were half happy, half melancholy, and mostly quiet. Lots of tears but also lots of French toast.

But as the years have eased by, my birthday has come to mean so much more. It isn’t about the day she died. And disappointingly, it isn’t about me as some supremely special being. It is about fullness, and life, and gratefulness.

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I am alive. My family is here with me. I have a husband I don’t deserve and daughters more precious than I could have imagined. My wonderful parents and in-laws are well and active in our lives. I have dear sisters and brothers, and nieces and nephews I love as my own. I have family I am so very lucky to be able to call friends. And I have friends I am so very grateful have become part of my family. I have a home to care for, sunsets to watch, and meaningful things to do with my time. And I have a God that loves me relentlessly, just as I am.

I have never been one to require a big birthday celebration or a full day (or week!) of my favorite activities. I don’t even usually need much in the way of presents. (But to be clear, I do quite like them so don’t let that stop you.)

I do have two general requirements: (1) my family remembers my birthday, and (2) we do something out of the ordinary to celebrate. Only one of those requirements has ever been overlooked and he is still really, very, truly sorry he remembered late in the evening after a full day of me looking at him angrily through narrowed eyes. It honestly wasn’t his fault.

There have been other birthdays, though, where I’ve wished the day had been more perfect. Maybe more celebratory. Maybe required just a little less work from me. Maybe all the friends I’ve ever had (like, ever!) wished me a happy birthday. Maybe everyone had gotten along swimmingly all the birthday long and my girls were well-behaved and thoughtful beyond their years. Maybe my husband was doting and devoted an entire day to me and my favorite (long, long list of) things.

Those kind of birthday wishes lead to discontentment. And crabby people. Mostly me.

We get so caught up hoping others remember us on our birthdays, but do we stop to remember them ourselves? To be thankful we are alive to celebrate and have people we love around us. To decide to spend them in a way that matters to us, rather than hoping others surprise us with exactly what we want (but don’t want to have to say).

So when my most recent birthday morning was festively spent in the urgent care waiting room while medical staff patched up my husband after a deck construction incident, and the rest of his day had to be spent working on said deck to make up for lost time, I realized the gift of a day spent doing work that is valuable to me. I enjoyed sweet hugs and downtime with my girls watching the live-action Cinderella movie (my choice, again). I was able to help my husband on his deck project and care for him and our home. I talked to my parents and one sister on the phone, and was able to text with my other sister who was heading up into the mountains on a camping adventure. I had a fun dinner out and shave ice (no candle).

Each time disappointment may have crept in and I began to pen invitations to my pity party, I reminded myself that a birthday is an occasion to take stock of my blessings. Mostly, it is a chance to reaffirm that as long as I am able to turn the calendar pages, I get to choose the type of woman I am and how I will invest the fleeting minutes of my life.

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Books: Falling Free – Rescued From the Life I Always Wanted

It is easy to plow through life going our own way. Making good decisions. Getting things done. Working our way up the ladder. Paying the bills. Providing for our families. Living the good life.

Living the American Dream.

But is there more?

Somewhere in that day to day, we can lose sight of God’s dream for us, actually His command to us. We often begin to insulate ourselves from the pain and suffering in the world. At the least, it most certainly prevents us from noticing the people around us and the opportunities to meet their need for love and kindness.

We believe our security comes from ourselves and the things we do. We believe our personal and financial successes are hard won, maybe even deserved. Sure, we gratefully realize that God has blessed us, but have we ever considered that maybe God’s plan was never for us to be comfortable and secure in this life? Maybe the fullness of this life can only be found in pursuing Him and following His leading, rather than simply chasing the American Dream.

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A fantastic opportunity popped up for me recently. I got the chance to review an advance copy of Falling Free: Rescued From the Life I Always Wanted by writer Shannan Martin. Shannan blogged as Flower Patch Farmgirl for years, and now continues to share her life and stories at Shannan Martin Writes.

Selfishly, I was excited to provide feedback and see the workings of a book launch from behind the scenes. But the book itself? It bowled me over.

Shannan and her family gave up a comfortable life they had carefully built in the country to better position themselves to live in surrender to Christ. This meant changing how they defined their family, reevaluating their belongings, fumbling to truly live in community, and training their hearts to give generously and sacrificially. And along the way, it meant a sort of demotion by the world’s standards and learning to find comfort in discomfort.

They’re not saints, they’re you and me. And even though their life changes are not a formula to follow, we are all subject to the same calling.

I took pages upon pages of notes while reading. The message soaked into my soul so deeply that the concepts and quotes continue to work their way into my everyday conversations, thoughts, and slowly, actions. Now that’s a book.

Shannan’s writing is at once honest, laugh-out-loud funny, and convicting. But her words aren’t simply convicting; they are compelling. I am left looking at my own life, inwardly analyzing my values and outwardly straining to pay attention to the needs around me and opportunities to serve others. Shannan calls this the #ministryofpayingattention and a ministry it truly is.

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The book came to me serendipitously, during a time I had already been pondering the root of many of my cultural beliefs and trying to untangle which are Biblical and which are from the American Dream. God bless election season, am I right?

Our family has been through its own shake up in the past few years. But what may have at times appeared to be a free fall by the world’s standards, has been a freedom fall into God’s hands. Reliance on God in our struggles has given us overwhelming peace and opened our eyes even wider to the people and needs around us.

Some thoughts from the book that shot through my heart and stuck with me:

“For all of our adult lives, our radar had been locked on one goal: to ensure our own safety and security. We were hardwired to focus on solving our own problems and applauded by the church when we constructed a life that pointed directly at the American Dream, with a side of Jesus.”

“What we saw with fresh eyes was that God’s ‘more’ often looks a whole lot like less. In this upside-down kingdom his best gifts are not found on the tallest shelf at the end of a strenuous climb. They’re found in the dirt. They’re low and humble, lacking as far as we’re concerned.”

“Without God dropping us low enough to lose ourselves in a trade for more of him, our hearts will not begin to match the beating of his for the poor and marginalized. In order to care, we have to find ourselves in the lines on their faces. And once we do, we’ll see it as mandatory to go to them and share their pain.”

“…giving is almost universally more about the condition of our hearts and what God has to show us than it is about the person at the receiving end. God cares just as much about my surrender as their need.”

Falling Free: Rescued From the Life I Always Wanted hits shelves September 20, but is available for preorder at all your favorite book retailers. If you preorder before September 20, visit the Falling Free website to receive free preorder gifts.

Take a moment to watch the book’s trailer here. Then order yourself a copy, ask God to open your heart, and prepare to be moved.

 

 

 

Staring Down Instead of Looking Up

World events, politics, and Pokemon Go have been swirling around us the past couple of weeks, but our family has barely noticed. It’s hard to see life happening around you when you are fearfully intent on the ground.

We are in a season of loss — some deeply personal, some of it tangential. Accidents claiming promising lives too soon. Grieving spouses, parents, and children. Brave young friends battling fierce illness. Shoulders hunched and head down, we wait for the other shoe to drop.

We’ve been reminded in stunning fashion of life’s brevity and uncertainty.

The path we walk is like a loose, dry, gravel road. Every step feels unsure. Every movement unsteady. A careless step could send us skidding or take us down. A crack in the surface could cause the road’s foundation to crumble, and would we be able to stand?

Is more loss coming? Will it get closer to us? Could we survive similar devastation?

So in our fear, we stare down at the gravel beneath our feet and supervise every step. We question why things have happened. We doubt the impact of offering to help, somehow.

We pray and we hope against all hope that God hears our prayers. But we wonder why He didn’t send a miracle. And then we feel smaller – do our prayers even matter?

But left and right of that dusty road, God’s promises abound. Blooming flowers, evidence that life continues. Flowing streams and waterfalls, beauty given to us by a loving Creator. Powerful thunderstorms, showcasing His might.

Grace and peace for families, even when loved ones near their final breath. Kindness of strangers, reaching out to comfort the hurting and carry their load.

He is near. We are not alone.

The Bible contains much evidence of God’s love for His people — the most obvious being the gift of Jesus for mankind’s salvation. But there is more.

We are not saved and then He is done with us. Check! Done! We are saved and we become His. And He loves His children deeply and personally. Our day-to-day lives matter to Him, as do the joys and hurts we experience along the way.

When the Israelites were journeying through the wilderness under the leadership of Moses, God directed them to build the ark of the covenant and the tabernacle, not simply for His glory but so that He could dwell among them. (Exodus 25:8) He was already communicating with them through Moses, but now He would draw even nearer to them as they continued toward the promised land.

When Moses was aging (if that is what you’d call someone who is 120 years old), he announce Joshua as his successor. Joshua was taking over an arduous, daunting task, but Moses reminded him of God’s promise to stay with him and never depart — He will not leave you nor forsake you. (Deuteronomy 31:1-8)

This is a God that loves us. Personally. Deeply. In good times and in bad.

If you are hurting today, can I ask you to look up? To look around? Would you watch for signs of His presence?

You are not alone. He is near.

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The Light Will Come

My grandfather suffered from macular degeneration, a condition that gradually deteriorated his retinas. Slowly worsening. Slowly dimming. Slowly distorting. His vision closing in over time.

My life can feel that way sometimes.

At first, I am feeling relaxed and free. I am connected to those I love. I know my purpose and I am confidently walking my path. Things are gliding along smoothly, until darkness begins to upset the balance.

Something as simple as reading the news or scrolling through posts and headlines in my social media feeds can impact my emotions for hours and even days.

That sunshiney space where I’m living begins to dim, overcast with the sin of the world and fear of what is to come. Tiny worries creep in from the periphery and my vision starts to cloud. Anxiety slowly closes in, my chest tightens, and things appear darker and darker. The weight of my worry can be crushing and I pray Jesus, come save us soon.

And then there is the inside out.

Sometimes my own mistakes and short-comings weigh on me, long after the action or word. My own sins, eating away at the good things God has granted me. My guilt and shame bleeding out, staining life’s treasures. I’m caught in despair and I pray please Lord Jesus, free me from my mess.

Please tell me you can relate.

My young daughter sometimes worries about heaven. She can’t imagine leaving the things precious to her in this earthly life. Our comfy home and her bright bedroom full of books. Her adoring grandparents and dear cousins. Her droopy but well-loved stuffed monkey.

And I get it. There is comfort and familiarity in this life we know. There are also soaring highs from the wonder and beauty of this world.

How lucky are we? How greatly God has blessed us with this world and all its beauty, light, and love. All this loveliness in a place that is nothing more than a stop on our journey.

So I understand her apprehension, but I am positioned toward a different vantage point – one offering a wider view. During my extra years on this earth, I’ve amassed a collection of experiences that happens to include more instances of hurt, brokenness, and pain. I’ve grown weary, watching as darkness obscures the light, and in some moments I can’t help but long for what is ahead.

God tells us though, that there is no cause for fear. Our present situations may feel dire, but rescue has already come. The world can seem scary, but He has overcome the world. The darkness can be suffocating and seem impenetrable, but He speaks light, and the darkness dissolves.

Just like that. Gone.

My heart finds peace knowing the light wins. God already conquered the darkness when He sent His son Jesus to free us from sin. The darkness we see is temporary and the light that is coming will be unlike anything we can imagine.

We can live in fear of the dark, or we can bravely raise our heads and lift our faces skyward, knowing the light will come.

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“Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you. See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the Lord rises upon you and his glory appears over you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.”  Isaiah 60:1-3 NIV

Struggling with Enough

So let’s get something out of the way, shall we?

It is safe to write about food and travel. Most people love both.

Yet food and travel only make up somewhere between 28% and 53% of my life. (I am still finalizing the numbers.) So there is obviously more of me to share.

Yet, I have agonized, hesitated, and dreaded maintaining a more personal blog that is full of my actual thoughts. It is less likely that people will love those.

Publishing my own material means no one else has reviewed it. No one else has approved it. No one has validated me and told me that what I have to say is good enough or relatable to others.

I could put something out there that is poorly written! I could say something I’d later regret! I could write something not themed well to my other posts! In my world, these things are terrible!

Submitting my writing to others first and waiting for the subsequent head nod has been a cautious way for me to write.

And for a person who feels slightly uncomfortable when people praise me aloud in front of others, it turns out I need that affirmation to feel like I am enough. For a person who generally does what I want instead of always following the crowd, I do care what people think.

The first time I had an essay selected to be published on a blog with a large, established readership, my elation gave way to terror as my run date approached. I had written about my feelings and then been crazy enough to send them off for all the world to see. Certainly the editors had read the whole thing, right? They said it was fine, but now people would actually read it.

What if people I knew thought I was dramatic or weak? What if people I didn’t know quit reading after a sentence or two, finding the piece superficial or trite?

Instead of my worst fears being realized, though, something amazing happened. Women began commenting on the blog post, saying things like “me too” and “I needed to hear this.” I nearly cried. (I actually cried.)

I hadn’t intended to write for my own good, simply to air my feelings. I wanted to encourage. I wanted to offer the slight relief that kinship and hope can bring when the heart is hurting. That small breath that momentarily relaxes your whole body when you’re tense and feeling alone, and then suddenly you realize you are not alone. And for a couple of women, I had done just that.

This is my leap of faith. I am trusting that God can use me to say something of worth.

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“Remain in Me, and I in you. Just as a branch is unable to produce fruit by itself unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in Me.” John 15:4 HCSB