Author: Anne Rulo

The text said only this, “Not Aunt Becky!” As I have no relative named Aunt Becky, and I am a child of the ’80s, Lori Loughlin’s face immediately popped into my mind. I clicked on the link and saw, along with the rest of the nation, the initial wave of information regarding the incredible college admissions scandal.

We spent the next few days watching hard-to-fathom details roll across our news feeds. Unbelievable amounts of money and influence, connection and privilege had been utilized to give certain kids a leg up, much further up. The reactions were swift and wide-spread in the news, from celebrities, and in my own little part of the world. We were shocked that someone would use their money and influence this way. We were sad for the message this sent their children about the ability to be successful on their own. We were broken that our long-standing system of privilege had, yet again, been used to step around those with fewer resources. We were a lot of emotions that pointed out and pointed at but very few that pointed in.

As the noise died down and I had a bit more time to reflect on the pieces at play, an interesting little phrase took root in my mind…

“Girl, put your stones down.”

I don’t know what specific thoughts Aunt Becky used to justify the decisions she made for her children. And I’m certain we don’t know how deep the rabbit hole goes for all of the backroom deals and private conversations that allowed for circumstances like this to happen. But I bet you a dime to a dollar I know at least a couple of the influences that sparked this wildfire, and they are the same ones we deal with every day.

Today’s parents are uniquely influenced by the temptation to worship our kids’ experience and its bedfellow, the fear of scarcity. Many of our communities and social media feeds are filled with reminders about all the opportunities that are available for our children. We see what others are doing and we are tempted to wonder, is my kid missing out? We look in our pocketbooks and analyze our calendars to figure out if we can afford to give them just one more quality educational or extracurricular experience. And while it would be easy to vilify the opportunities, it’s not the opportunities that are the problem. It’s our perspective about them that can trip us up.

The space between offering our children opportunities out of love or worshiping their childhood is narrow. And it helps us all to realize just how thin that line can be.

The truth is that we can all be Aunt Becky if we get scared enough. While we might not do something illegal to get our kids into college, the fears we have about our children’s futures certainly leave us susceptible to making decisions that may not fit our values. If we get worried enough about our children’s experiences we can, very easily, begin to worship at the altar of privilege and wealth and opportunity…whether or not we can afford to do so.  We can all be Aunt Becky if we don’t sit every. single. day. and meditate on the truth that God loves our kids more than we do and we don’t have to manhandle their futures.

And so on we go as parents, working very hard to tune out the world and check in with God about the state of our children’s development. We train ourselves to pray each time we encounter a new opportunity rather than check our pocketbook and calendar to see if we can “make it work.” We seek to place our children in opportunities we feel He wants them to be in rather than every option that comes our way. We work to enjoy the opportunities they get and try not to idolize the ones they don’t. Ultimately, we try every day to set our kids back at the feet of Jesus, asking for the strength to trust Him with these most precious parts of our lives.

Lord, may you grant us all the wisdom to choose for our children that which You would have for them rather than any measure we would choose for ourselves.

And Lord, be with Lori Laughlin. A Mom. Who made a mistake. We can all relate to that.

For this post during Women’s History Month I had planned a sweet little tribute to the incredible ways women serve one another. Instead, God saw fit to turn that on its head and remind me that many of us (read: me) really struggle with being served. Nothing like a little conviction to start off the week!

Fittingly, this reminder came in the form of a lesson impressed upon me by the littlest woman in my life. I had been thinking about one of the earliest snows of the season when she and my son were sledding in our back yard. At one point I noticed that my son was now “hauling” her back up the hill because she had gotten tired. And she hadn’t hesitated to ask for help.

Huh. What a novel thing for a woman to do.

As a young woman still fairly new to the world, she asked for help because she is still innocent. At just three years old she hasn’t absorbed any of the nonsense that the rest of us have about self-sufficiency. The lie that says unless there is an extreme crisis we are supposed to do it all on our own. The siren song of womanhood that causes so many of us to martyr ourselves on the altar of capability and attach our value to how well we can white-knuckle our way through life.

Let’s be honest. We all get tired. We get physically tired and emotionally tired.  We get mentally tired and financially tired.  We get work-weary, chore weary and child weary.  We walk up those same snowy hills over and over again and oh how we would be blessed to simply let someone grab the sled and walk us to the top. And yet, so many times, we would rather just get more tired than ask for help.

Well, that is me this week. I had wanted to share this lesson with you without having to share in it myself but God wasn’t having that prideful nonsense. Like all of the other sweet women in my life, there are times when we can get everything done and there are times when we can’t. And then, often after tears, and guilt, and frustration that we can’t worship the idol of self-sufficiency one more time we finally call her.

Her. Whoever she is. Because she loves you.

Your Mother. Your friend. Your coworker. Your boss. Your neighbor. Your Aunt. Your mentor. Your sister. Your whomever from the village. And you finally ask her for help because that is part of the design.

Ladies, we must remember that our need to be served is a gift to someone else even if it is uncomfortable for us. If Jesus said we are supposed to serve one another then sometimes, my self-sufficient sister, that “other” has to be you too.

And so today if you are tired, tell her. If you need her, tell her. Humble yourself and let her do her job in Christ so that ultimately you can do yours better.

I’ll lead. I’m going to call her now.

Several years ago my sisters and I headed to the local mall with our young children. A large amount of space and few patrons made it the perfect place for us to get in some steps and let the kids get out some wiggles. Four of them toddled happily ahead while I pushed another in a stroller. A woman approached us with a kindly smile. “What beautiful children,” she said to my sisters, “and grandchildren!” she added as I went by.

Say what?!

My head snapped up and I looked around for anyone else she could possibly be talking to. Nope, she was staring straight at me. I was thirty-four. Sigh.

Five years later, this trend of appearing older has only increased. Several times a year I am mistaken as my daughter’s grandmother. I suspect at least some of this generational confusion is due to the increasing abundance of silver strands in my very dark head of hair. If I were to dye my grays it would probably help but sadly, I am “hairresponsible.” This is the technical term I made up for someone who has great aspirations for hair color but is wise enough to know she will not keep it up. I am certain that I am less offended to be mistaken for a grandmother than for a skunk so on I go, getting grayer and grayer by the day.

Despite my own acceptance of the grays, I have absolutely no opinion on whether a woman should approach her own aging “naturally.” Frankly, as women, we have enough pressure and social rules on our conduct and appearance. You do you. Truly, I do not give one flying luxurious hair flip what you do with your grays.

You know what I actually do care about? Whether or not we recognize and speak with affirmation regarding the years that brought those gray hairs into existence. Unlike our cultural narrative, God’s Word stands in contrast to our often negative view of aging. He tells us that the years He gives us are a gift, not a curse.

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:4 (NIV)

The longer we live, the more opportunity we have to recognize that all the other stuff we put our trust in eventually fails. Our experiences teach us that it is Him, and Him alone, who sustains us through everything life may bring. The years He gives us are a gift to help us narrow our worship to the only thing that really matters.

“Is not wisdom found among the aged? Does not long life bring understanding?” Job 12:12 (NIV)

God’s Word tells us that some wisdom can only come through lived experience. The longer we live, the more time we have to grow in our understanding of what really matters. We learn how the world works and how to proceed wisely in ways we simply could not understand when we were younger. The wisdom we gain over the course of our lives is of great value.

So why does it matter that we get our minds right about aging? For two really important women.

You, and the one who is watching you.

For you, seeing aging through God’s eyes helps you live more fully in your design. When you recognize the value in your years you are much more likely to step into the work He calls you to even when convention may say you are past your usefulness. What sadness it would be if we missed great adventures in our golden years because we believed the lie that our necessity had passed.

And that young woman who is watching you? She is listening. She hears how we talk about ourselves and how we categorize our lives as we get older. She learns from us whether the years ahead are something to look forward to, something that adds value to life, or if aging is something to be feared. She learns from us whether she can continue to have purpose with God as the years pass. She learns from us whether or not she can be an older woman who contributes, a woman who matters. It is with our own voice that we have the choice to speak life into her years we will not be around to see. Sharing God’s truth about what it means to be an aging woman is an incredible part of our legacy.

And so my sisters may we use our aging voices well. For them. For us. For the beautiful parts we all play in His design. Let us understand aging in a way that lets us do our job well ALL the way until our job is done. There is much He has for you.

Canceled. My oh my has that been a theme word for us this winter! This is one of the strangest, snowiest winters I can remember. Initially, the cancellations were exciting. We strapped on our boots and hopped in our sleds for fun-filled days away from the usual routine. At some point, they became a bit concerning as schools and organizations alike began attempting to figure out where they were going to fit in instruction, events, and games. To date, I think most of us have just thrown our hands in the air in submission knowing that we may as well just “bow to the absurd.”

I was on the phone with a friend the other day when we both received the text from ballet class. It was canceled. Again. I then overheard her relay the information to her four-year-old who replied, “Mom, you have to stop saying ‘canceled.'” I giggled on the other end of the line. I get it. She is tired of hearing the word canceled. Many of us have grown weary of canceled.

We have a tough time with “canceled” because it changes things. Canceled means the thing you had planned on isn’t going to happen. Canceled means that the emotional preparation you had made for the events of the day now needs to be rerouted to a new plan. Canceled, many times, means extra physical, mental, and emotional work even if work is the very thing that got canceled. Canceled seems to be wearing us out.

Well, you know what? I’ve decided to draw a line in the proverbial snow. We are going to reclaim the word canceled because it is silly nonsense that a word, any word, gets to play havoc with our joy. We are taking it back!

I had thought it might take me a while to determine how to put a good spin on the word canceled. I figured I might have to wander through the Internet, trying to discern the roots of the word from the original Greek. Or maybe, after a while, I might track down some strange translation that would give us some sort of footing to reclaim this word from its current throne as an emotional dictator.

You know how long it actually took me? About 2.5 seconds.

Check.

This.

Out.

“When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross.” Colossians 2:13-15 (NIV)

Dang He’s good.

The biggest cancellation that ever took place in the history of the world is the One that paid the price for the souls of humanity. The original “plan” was that we would have to pay the price for our sin all by ourselves and that plan got “canceled.” By Jesus.

Hallelujah.

For those of us in the Midwest, you know what is probably coming this week? More cancellations. Those happy little snowflakes are dancing on my weather app and a cancellation text will likely be here sooner rather than later. But you know what? This time when the “ding” of a cancellation comes through our hearts will not fall. Instead, we can enjoy the feeling that accompanies a new word association with the word “canceled.” Because a cancellation was the very best thing that ever happened to us.

Given that it is the week of Valentine’s Day it seemed an appropriate time to talk about love languages.  For those who may not have heard about Dr. Gary Chapman’s “Five Love Languages” here is a quick summary.  All people have ways they most deeply experience love.  Per his research, these types fall into five categories including acts of service, quality time, words of affirmation, gift giving and physical touch.  For most people, one or two of these are the most satisfying.

Dr. Chapman found that many couples are “mismatched” in their love languages and thus “misfire” as they try to care for one another in ways that do not make sense to their spouse.  It’s a powerful concept for relationships.  If you want to know more about your own love language you can find those resources here: https://www.5lovelanguages.com/

Early on in our relationship, the future hubby and I were definitely mismatched.  I was heavily words of affirmation and he was acts of service.  I would shower him with praise when what he really wanted was help with his laundry.  He would offer to help me with things when all I really wanted was an “atta’ girl” for doing it on my own.  We kept trying to love each other in our own ways, missing out on the intimacy that eventually came from learning the other’s “language.”

Well, twelve and a half years into marriage it finally hit me.  While I have spent years applying this concept with my earthly husband I have totally and completely forgotten to do so with my Heavenly one.  Oh, what a game changer this thought has been.

In a relationship with Jesus, communication is obviously not called “love languages” but is instead referred to as “spiritual disciplines.”  This is the (kind of boring sounding) umbrella term for practices such as prayer, worship, fasting, reading the Bible, service, solitude, meditation, etc.  These practices allow us to express and receive love and grow in our relationship with Him.  And, just as with love languages, there are some practices we tend to gravitate toward because they are “easier” for us or make more “sense.”

If I had to pick my “spiritual love languages” I would guess they are reading the Bible and solitude.  I am immensely satisfied when given time alone to read, digest and think.  However, I have to remember that God is not limited in His languages.  He is equally and fully present in all of them.  If I don’t spend time developing an ability to worship Him in those other ways I am missing out on a more complete and intimate relationship with Him.  Spending my life experiencing only a portion of the God who loves me?  No thank you!

In order to get to know more of God, we have to challenge ourselves to experience Him in ways that are harder for us to understand.  We have to spend time learning to speak other “languages” and give ourselves the grace to know it is going to take a while to become fluent.  If you are a Scripture person, keep doing that but be intentional about spending time in prayer, even if it feels awkward and your mind chases rabbits.  If you are worship person, great, keep on singing but also get into the Word even if it doesn’t totally make sense at first.  If you enjoy solitude, take time alone but remember that service may grow your spiritual muscles in a way that you may never have anticipated.  When we grow in the ways we can hear Him I suspect we may catch what He is saying more often.

Happy Valentine’s Day with the Savior my friend.  I hope that you get to hear Him say “I love you” in a whole new way.

“Then I looked, and I saw a hand stretched out to me. In it was a scroll, which he unrolled before me. On both sides of it were written words of lament and mourning and woe. And he said to me, ‘Son of man, eat what is before you, eat this scroll; then go and speak to the house of Israel.’ So I opened my mouth, and he gave me the scroll to eat. Then he said to me, ‘Son of man, eat this scroll I am giving you and fill your stomach with it.’ So I ate it, and it tasted as sweet as honey in my mouth.” Ezekiel 2:9-10, 3:1-3

I’ll admit that I don’t spend a great deal of time hanging out in the book of Ezekiel.  It’s exotic and filled with visions and I’m usually not quite sure what is going on.  However, recently a little something in the middle of all the imagery caught my eye.  Ezekiel was an Old Testament prophet during a really dark time for the Israelite people.  He was among the second wave of those who had been exiled to Babylon and were being held in captivity.  Despite being kicked out of their homeland, the others still didn’t seem to be learning so God gave Ezekiel the job of telling them some really hard things to try to get them to repent.  What a daunting task for a young priest in a foreign land with few to support his efforts.

The verses above tell us that the scroll with the message God gave Ezekiel was covered in “words of lament and mourning and woe.”  He was told to ingest these words himself and then pass them along to the others.  Yuck.  Ingesting a difficult message like that seems like it would taste terrible.  However, Ezekiel received it in a very different way.  Rather than encountering an unpleasant taste along with the unpleasant words, when he ingested the scroll “it tasted as sweet as honey in [his] mouth.”  What a strange twist.

Honey is mentioned in several other places in the Bible.  For example, when God commissioned Moses to lead the Hebrews out of Egypt, their new homeland was described as “…a land flowing with milk and honey.” (Exodus 3:8).  Proverbs tells us that when someone speaks kind words, they “are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.” (Proverbs 16:24)  Honey is a description of something good, something that is intended to nourish and bless the receiver.  Ezekiel trusted that even hard words from God were intended for good.

When God gives us hard messages in our lives, they can be really difficult to swallow.  Hard messages are hard work!  They challenge our faith and ask us to renew our trust in God’s goodness.  Our job is to try and grow in our knowledge and love of Him to the point that we can receive it all with gratitude.  Eventually, we want to grow to the point of trusting that even bitter and distasteful circumstances will eventually give way to sweetness.

One final note.  Honey is one of only a handful of foods that infants are not supposed to eat.  It seems fitting to realize that we need to grow up a little bit to be able to taste the honey in the hard.  May God mature us to ingest His Word, any word He may speak into our lives, in such a way that we fully trust in His sweet provision, mercy, and grace.

I have always been fascinated by the elegance of dancing.  As part of a generation whose strongest claim for coordination is country line dancing, to watch an entire room of men and women immaculately dressed and spinning together is enchanting.  The dances of past generations are most literally an art form as they flow to the music, perfectly in concert with one another.

Oh, how I wish my dance with the Lord were always like that.  Something like a waltz or foxtrot, elegant and romantic and perfectly in step.  He would lead and I would follow, guided left, right and around by the slightest change in His direction.  In truth, most days I would even take a cha-cha.  Some of the time we may not even be facing each other or touching but at least we are in sync.  At least I would be imitating Him and appear to have some idea what I am doing.

And you know what?  Sometimes this actually does happen.  It is an incredible feeling when the Big Guy and I are coordinating our steps and I enjoy every syncopated second.  It’s what we were designed for and it is definitely what I aim for.  However, today is not about the days of victory when we are truly able to set ourselves aside and live wholeheartedly in the Spirit.  Today is about how we dance on those other days.

The days when we are doing The Bernie.  (Didn’t see that comin’ did-ya?)

That’s right.  Every once in a while a day comes where we feel like our coordination with the Lord mimics a movie about a dead guy in a Bermuda shirt who is getting shuffled about by everybody but himself.  We’re out there lookin’ like fools, not thinking for ourselves and letting the forces of the world dictate how we respond.  We become puppets to our emotions and those of the people around us rather than being guided by the Holy Spirit.  Bernie days are a mess.

In all honesty, most Bernie days could probably be avoided.  I tend to head out of the house doing the “Bernie-lean” when I don’t take time to center myself in Jesus and have made a habit of letting my self-care drop below critical levels.  Bernie’s problem in the movie is that he is dead.  There is no life in him to direct his mind, his steps, or keep his arms from flopping to the side without purpose.  Albeit a ridiculous pop culture example, this is quite literally how silly we must look to the Lord when we figure we can just hop out of the house on our own power alone without His lifeblood in us.

We cannot, and are not supposed to, walk through this life on our own.  We may be able to fake it for a while but eventually, we will realize that without God’s guidance the world will take us by the hand and lead us every which way but Home.  So take off that Hawaiian shirt my friend and put on your finest.  The King has asked you to dance.

(Reader note: This post contains car accident content.)

Many years ago I was in a pretty significant car accident.  It was my first year of marriage and we were living in a busy suburban area.  As I headed down a long street I glanced at the light ahead, noted that it was green, and motored on.  Unfortunately, I failed to realize that green light was illuminated over a long line of cars that had come to a standstill.

I’m sure the sound of the crash was terrible but I don’t remember it.  I blacked out briefly when the cars collided and awoke to the acrid smell of the airbag, my shirt covered in the white powder that keeps those little pillows pliable while they sit in your steering wheel.  I was disoriented and confused, trying to make sense of my altered reality.  As I made my way to the shoulder I saw fully the damage I had done.  My moving car had smashed the stationary one in front of it and it was my fault.  Entirely my fault.  I realized with deep sadness that the blame rested with me and me alone.

As I stood there listening to the approaching emergency vehicles a man appeared and put his arm around my shoulders.  I’m sure I sounded like a total loon as I sputtered out sentences about being sorry, not knowing how it had happened, wondering if everyone was okay, needing to call my husband and likely a few other incoherent things.  He gave my shoulders a squeeze and said, “It’s going to be alright dear.  That’s why they are called ‘accidents.’”  It was only then that I realized he was the driver of the other car.

Even in my stupor, I remember being touched by his response.  He had been wronged.  Entirely.  He had every right to demand justice and offer me a heaping helping of verbal reminders of everything that I had done wrong and yet he didn’t.  He chose grace.  It was the strangest feeling, standing there completely guilty, while someone extended real-life unmerited grace.

Since that time I think maybe if I were ever in a similar situation I would hopefully be able to think back to that man and his kindness and offer that kind of dignity to someone else.  Sometimes in big moments, we have a way of showing up in big ways.  Truly, it’s more often the every day that tends to get us in trouble…

When the waitress gets an order wrong.
When the cable guy comes at 5:05 of the 8:00-5:00 window.
When the hairdresser cuts too short.
When the other driver waves with one finger.
When the store has too few checkout lanes open.
When the customer yells.
When the teenagers talk in the movie.
When the spouse leaves a mess.
When we are inconvenienced.
When we are wronged.
When we want justice.

When we choose to become jerks instead of Jesus.  It’s so easy to do.

And so that’s all this is today.  No grand finale.  Just a simple reminder.  A reminder to me, and maybe to you, that we have to consciously work toward being people of uncommon response.  The extension of grace when we have been wronged is uncommon.  It is the uncommon response of an uncommon God and it just might be the moment where the Gospel turns into a real life experience for the recipient.  I promise we will all have a chance to practice today.  May God help us recognize the moment.

Last weekend’s impressive snowstorm left me in need of some boots.  I was getting dressed for church and realized that the flats I usually wear were not a good match for the massive snow drifts on the sidewalk.  I went to the kitchen and said to my husband, “You know my gray boots?  I wish I could find them because they would be perfect today.”  With one quick glance and a smile he said, “When we get to heaven I am certain there is going to be a special room for all of the things you have lost.”

My goodness this made me giggle.  Because he’s right.  Not about the heavenly lost-and-found box but about me.  I am flaky.  Always have been.  Write a research paper?  No problem.  Talk to a room full of people about mental health?  Can do.  Locate my keys, remember my children without an alarm or put the garage up before I back into it from the inside?  That’s a bit more challenging.  Being flaky is just one of the things that come along with me being me.  All the teasing aside, the beautiful thing that emerged was that I probably won’t be welcomed at the pearly gates by my boots, but there is a God who welcomes all of who I am (flakiness included) to do work for Him while I am here.  What a liberating thought.

There is an actual list of “spiritual gifts” found in the Bible.  Take a tour of Romans 12, 1 Corinthians 12 and Ephesians 4 and you will find a list of words like healing, evangelism, mercy, teaching, exhortation, and administration.  These, among others, are listed specifically and have a clear function in the body of Christ.  These are gifts we know how to use or at the very least, we would be able to look it up.  However, what are we to do with the many unique parts of ourselves that are not listed?  What is the purpose of our likes and dislikes, our talents and our trials, our weaknesses, and our strengths?  What are we to think about the parts of ourselves and our lives that didn’t come with a blueprint?

In short, it’s all for Him.

Sometimes we make the mistake of setting blinders around the “spiritual.”  When we think about how we can care for someone we offer prayer or a well-chosen verse intended to bring comfort or encouragement.  We send our hurting colleague a worship song or ask a friend to join our Bible study.  We invite our neighbors to church.  Now don’t get me wrong.  Every single one of the things I just listed are wonderful ways to love people.  However, please don’t make the mistake of thinking the options stop there.  If we think that God only works through the polished and pious parts of ourselves we have missed the mark.  When we reduce the wholeness of ourselves into boxes we miss out on countless moments for connection and authentic relationship with the rest of the humans around us.

Today’s call is to take an inventory of who you are and look closely for God’s fingerprints in your design.  Yes, you probably have some very obvious gifts and talents that are quick go-to’s but I want you to look even closer.  Take stock of your personality traits.  Pay attention to what you like and what you don’t like.  Notice your missteps and your inadequacies, your successes and your tragedies.  They’re all there for Him and can have a purpose for loving people.

As an example, I will offer a mini inventory of my own.  The flakiness I mentioned earlier?  It’s not convenient.  It requires me to do a lot of list making, alarm setting and double checking in my life.  However, it also means that I have found myself with the opportunity to heap grace upon grace for others when they make a mistake.  I can share the fine art of learning to laugh at yourself.  Other examples:  I lost my Dad to cancer when I was 16 which means I sit uniquely designed to meet with others in their grief.  I’m oddly calm in a crisis so hospitals don’t make me nervous.  I like long walks and cake pops, Star Trek and Friends, and anything that smells good or has glitter.  Do these things matter?  Not all the time, but when I take stock of them and consider the ways in which they can help me care for people, create community or build authentic relationships they become another tool in my toolbox for loving folks.  Really, it all matters.  If you let it.

And so what about you?  What do you love?  What talents do you have or challenges have you faced that make you uniquely designed to love the people around you?  What things do you like that would allow you to create community?  What personality traits make you able to do God’s work in some uniquely specific way?  What is it that makes you, you?  Get out your magnifying glass my friend and look closely, His fingerprints are all over your design.  And once you see where they are, do work.  That is what we were meant for.

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. Ephesians 2:10

Sitting here one week into the New Year many of us have grand aspirations for what we would like to accomplish.  Wonderful!  Setting goals is a good practice, I would even say a great practice.  It refines our habits, establishes our priorities and leads us toward who we are designed to be.  When we plan and our days go smoothly reaching our goals is measurably easier.  However, how are we supposed to measure our goals when our days do not go as planned?  After all, we serve a God who tells us things like this:

“A man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” Proverbs 16:9

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven…” Ecclesiastes 3:1

“He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and unrighteous.” Matthew 5:45

In other words…sometimes our days are not up to us.

Even with all of our best intentions in place, we cannot control if we get stuck in traffic, the basement floods or the boss walks in with an unexpected request.  To-do lists become trash when our children get sick or the car breaks down.  And even on days when all the practical pieces may be in place, your heart or your mind may simply not be.  We are not finely tuned robots intended to function optimally at all times and we do not exist in a world where we can control everything that happens to us.  We are human beings living in an unpredictable world.  Some days we are just a hot mess driving the struggle bus.

Not too long ago I had one of those struggle bus kind of days.  Part of the day I think I was driving, but most of the day it just seemed to be running me over.  It was one of those days when I had planned to be really productive but things just simply weren’t going that way.  Tasks were taking me longer than intended, people (read: tiny children) were needing more from me than was typical, and mechanical things in my life were not cooperating.  Each time I passed the to-do list on my table it mocked me, “See what you didn’t get done today, lady?”  Sadly, as so often happens, I had been seduced by the idea that checking boxes equals a successful day.  That productivity was the measure of my value and my life.

I had let my goals become gods.

When my husband walked in from work that evening he asked, “How was your day?” When I had finished attempting to convince him of what a failure I was he said,

“Okay.  Did you love Jesus today?”  Uh, yes.
“Did you love others?”  As best I could.
“Then no big deal.  That’s all you are supposed to do in a day.”

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave.  Not because my husband is some kind of genius but because he spoke a very simple truth we often forget.  At the end of the day, when all is said and done, our two most important tasks are:

Love God.  Love others.

So please, go ahead and plan.  Prioritize.  Dream big dreams.  Set goals and listen for the incredible ways that God wants to use you.  However, on the days when life takes a left remember that ultimately there are only two things that He put on your list and both of those are in your control.  Love God.  Love others.  Get back to your to-do list tomorrow.  I promise it will still be there.

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”  Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” Matthew 22:36-40