My Twitter is exploding. My Facebook is blowing up. So many shares, witty remarks, and thought provoking articles it sends my head spinning. I can’t keep up. I’m drowning in the news, the think pieces, the opinion columns, the fast pace churn-it-out-before-the-idea-goes-cold-and-we-move-on-to-the-next-thing articles. I’m gasping for air, surrounded by words that seem better than mine, more talented than mine. And instead of letting it all wash over me, I’ve let it crush me under its tidal wave of Times New Roman and Helvetica. In the midst of this pounding tide, I’ve been swept out to sea, and I’ve lost sight of the Heavenly Shore. Continue reading “When You Step Out of God’s Love”
I struggle with the desire to be perfect at everything, to have time to do everything perfectly. Well reality is calling Lizzy, you just can’t do it all. I guess that notion didn’t dawn on me as I sat at the sewing machine last Saturday, trying to madly finish hemming a baby blanket for a friend’s shower that was happening in little less than an hour, remembering that I had agreed to bake something for it too, I started having a domestic melt down. Continue reading “Do One Thing Well”
The other night I was in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling as silent tears streamed from the corners of my eyes. I was questioning and pleading with God again. All I wanted was a normal life with things I just didn’t seem destined for anytime soon, like a husband, healthcare, and a job I liked that actually made enough money to save. It was crushing me, my impending mission. I was being asked to do things I didn’t want to do. To set aside deep desires while I watched my single friends slowly slip away into matrimony and climb the ladders of their careers. There was Kingdom work to do and for the first time in my life, I didn’t want to be a part of it. In that fleeting moment of the minute hand ticking towards midnight, I wished to be ordinary. I wished for the human intimacy of a spouse, someone to cuddle up to and wipe away my tears. I wished for the security of a steady income and healthcare so that I would be prepared for the ‘what-ifs’ of life. I wanted these things, because God didn’t feel like enough.
Continue reading “God is Enough Even When It Doesn't Seem Like It”
In times of the singleness woes, it’s easy to lose sight of this precious and gifted time in our lives. I honestly don’t think the Church is doing a very good job with helping out the singles. Sorry Church, just being real. Since marriage is pushed for so hard and uplifted above all and sought for by everyone with fervency, we singles can get a little lost and mislead when it comes to viewing and living out our time in-between. So I guess that means that we need to remind one another about what our mission truly is during this unique place in our lives. I think it’s time for us to take a good long look at our relational priorities. Paul utterly praises singleness in 1 Corinthians 7 and advocates for it. Though we must remember the historical context of the times, (people were getting eaten by lions, man) this scripture is still relevant today. Sure we can even mention how Jesus was single. I don’t think it really matters. Whatever your desire in life, you’re here now and might as well make the best of it. ‘Cause once it’s gone it’s gone for good. There’s no use in griping and moaning or trying to poke at it. Stop worrying about being single. Here are some better ways to be living out your single years:
Continue reading “Refocusing Our View of Singleness, From One Single to Another”
Rejection sucks. We’re not going to dance around that. It ain’t pretty people. It is downright ugly and makes you feel downright bummed and leaves you downright wondering “what’s wrong with me?” And I wish I could tell you all that it gets better. That you experience rejection less the older you get, but really, that’s just not true. It’s a part of life. It’s going to happen. You’re not going to get into the college you want. You’re not going to get the house. You’re not going to get the new job. You’re not going to get the guy or girl. Sounds bleak. Sounds dismal. Sounds hopeless. But it’s not. Really. Rejection is a part of life and I’m here to tell you that it isn’t so bleak. It isn’t so dismal. Yes, it is painful. Oh man does it hurt and I won’t spare you that commiseration. But, in the middle of all that pain and confusion and dejectedness, there’s actually hope. Smack dap in the middle of your gut-wrenching, heart-pounding rejection there is hope and joy and peace that will make your head explode. I know, because I’ve experienced rejection. A lot.
Continue reading “There is Beauty in Rejection”
This is part 4 of a series documenting my journey into a life of minimalism. The highs, the lows, the wins, and losses of minimizing the amount of stuff in my life.If you’re just jumping in, may I suggest reading the introduction, part 1, part 2, and part 3. Having a hard time keeping up? May I also suggest subscribing at the bottom of this page to receive updates. You’ll never miss a post and you’ll be one cool cat.
I went through my nail polish collection. Yeah. I had a collection of nail polish. Made up of, oh I don’t know, seventy or so differing colors. I must have had at least a dozen different shades of red. The gals are swooning and the men are scratching their heads: Aren’t all reds the same? No. No they are not. Now, I admit all of this sheepishly, but I think we’ve established that I’m going to be transparent about what we’re dealing with here. It would be good to note that this collection didn’t just burst into existence over night. But it didn’t take long to form either. Every Target run, a dangerous, dangerous place to be by the way and somewhere I do not let myself go into alone anymore, I’d walk away with a nail polish. Oh I just have to pick up some deodorant and toothpaste and a new Essie nail polish while I’m at it. Sheesh. It’s habits like this that got me into places of owning seventy nail polishes. Continue reading “Minimize Me: A former Hoarder’s Journey into a Life of Minimalism- Part 4: Reluctant to Let Go”
This series is a documentation of my journey into a life of minimalism. The highs, the lows, the wins, and losses of minimizing the amount of stuff in my life. If you’re just jumping into this series, may I suggest you check out the introduction and part 1.
I’m in week two of my journey into minimalism and to be honest, I’ve lost some steam. The initial glimmer of it all, the thrill of the purge, has worn off. With coming down off of this mountain top high, the dissipating adrenaline, comes the stinging bite of reality that my old habits and ways of living have not been eradicated overnight. In my first week, I felt invincible. I was conquering the clutter. Launching myself into a simplistic life free of consumerism. Now I’ve just realized I have less stuff.
You want to know what a good marker of a hoarder is? That moment when you find an old deposited check from your now deceased Grandmother. Seriously. I was so bummed, in denial bummed. I still wanted to try and cash it. Gladly it was only for $50 bucks. But man oh man, would I have loved to have that cash. Dinner on me! What. A. Shame. So instead, I taped that check to my mirror as a reminder. A reminder of what I’m doing. Why I’m doing it. To live simply. I guess that’s what I need this week. A bit of a pick me up, confirmation that what I’m doing is right and for the better rather then a fad season of my life. Continue reading “Minimize Me: A Former Hoarder’s Journey into a Life of Minimalism- Part two: Lost Momentum”
This series is a documentation of my journey into a life of minimalism. The highs, the lows, the wins, and losses of minimizing the amount of stuff in my life.If you’re just jumping into this series, may I suggest you check out my previous post first.
Just before Christmas, a good friend of mine came by to borrow a dress to wear to a party. I pulled out all I had to offer and let her take her pick. She walked away with three. She just kept thanking me and I told her it was my pleasure, and, really, lending out a dress was not that big a deal on my generosity scale. I remember being glad to see them getting worn.
My friend left, but that thought didn’t leave my mind. It hung around and rolled about in my head as I stuffed the rest of my dresses back in my closet. I looked at the remaining dresses hanging there and then down the line at all my clothes. Knowing that most of this stuff rarely got worn by me kind of made me sick. Had I just been hanging onto articles of clothing so that others could wear it instead of me? When had I become some strange clothing lender, doling out dresses to those in need? I should have opened a business and started charging. Continue reading “Minimize me: A Former Hoarder’s Journey into a Life of Minimalism- Part one: The Purge”
My current mantra in life is this: Be
Be still. Be quiet. Be focused. Be responsive. Be chill.
When I was in grade school, I attended this after school program. Kids’ Club. The program was run by Pat and her husband Smitty. They’re both long dead I’m sure since they were like a bajillion years old when I was only seven (this is relevant, track with me here, I’m painting you a picture). Pat scared me. But Smitty, Smitty was a cool old man. He had faded and wrinkling Navy tattoos that you could see peeking out from underneath his rolled up sleeves. He did card tricks and played pass the pigs. Smitty was magical. He drew you in. Mesmerized you. Every kid that was forced to stay that late after school was obsessed with him.
Now, you knew you were in with Smitty if he gave you a nickname. Who was I? Busy Lizzy. No joke. But it gets punier people. Smitty could draw. A class act doodler. And along with every cleverly coined nickname, you would receive a penciled rendition of yourself. And I was rightfully depicted as a bumble bee, buzzing around a hive. I still bother my mom about that picture. She says it’s in a box somewhere. Mother, take this as another reminder. I want that doodle. Continue reading “B, as in Be, not Bee.”
I think minimalism is Biblical. I’m no minimalist. I want to change that.
I am a things gal. I like stuff. I find beauty in the creation and craft of a good pair of jeans, so much that I end up owning 5 pairs. Necessary? Not in the slightest. My closet is stuffed. Well, it was, but we’ll get to that. I am the girl with the expansive clothing collection that my friends come to in need. You’re going to a wedding and want something new to wear? I’ve got like 20 options for you. And you’re looking for a unique nail polish color to go with said dress I just lent you? Come to my cupboard of makeup and take your pick from my overwhelming collection of every-shade-of-the-rainbow nail polishes. Oh and you’ll probably want matching heels to go with that, maybe a bag while we’re at it too.
Well not anymore. I’m done. Sorry ladies. I quit. My services will no longer be available to you. My lending closet is closed. Permanently. Here’s why: Continue reading “Minimize Me: A Former Hoarder’s Journey into a Life of Minimalism”