The Beautifulist & Sexiest...

Let's not talk about how many selfies I took to get just one...

What will make my year better, improve my quality of life, give me the ‘me’ of my dreams? Nothing really. I already have all that at my fingertips. What I want for my next year has nothing to do with treadmills, my favorite food group (sugar, sugar and more sugar), the size of my jeans or the way I clean my house (as if!)

I ALREADY have the life I want. And, let me tell ya, it’s the best life I could dream of—really. I ALREADY like who I am. What I want is to REMEMBER that I actually like that woman, not frantically work to invent a new one. So, instead of resolutions that, let’s be honest, I won’t keep anyway, I’m going to remember a few things about myself and my life…

1.    To see my beauty through the eyes of those who love me. My daughter thinks that I’m “the beautifulist Mommy in the whole wide world.” And she means it. She’s three and we all know that three year olds only utter the most utmost truth. With lots of volume. She grasps my face in both of her hands, looks me right in the eye, and with love pouring out of her proclaims “YOU ARE THE BEAUTIFULIST MOMMY IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD.” I’ll take it, and claim it as my own vision of myself. And remember that I am loved, wholly, by my children.

And, after almost 19 years, three kids, lots of jean sizes, great days and not-so-great days, my husband STILL likes to lean down over my shoulder and tell me how sexy he thinks I am. Seriously. SEXY. Me. Unbelievable. Except, it must be true because I can see he believes it, and he wants me to know he believes it. There are lots of ways that I can make this part hilarious, or cringe worthy, or totally inappropriate so I’ll just stop by saying he still likes to pat my bottom when I go up the stairs. Every day of the week. And that’s cool. Because to have a husband who still thinks I’m sexy is worth more than anything anyone’s ever said to me.

2.     Live more in the moment. Tasks can wait. Mostly, this is with my family. I get distracted by things a lot. By my never quiet brain that says, ‘Do. Do. Do.’ There’s a chorus of ‘look, mommy, look’ or for the cooler oldest, ‘hey, mom.’ I won’t have this time when they’re wanting my attention forever. While some days it does, indeed, feel like FOREVER, it’s not. It’s flying by and I’m chasing it down. So, this year, I will laugh more with them, make silly faces, dance more in the living room, play more games. Watch more shows that I don’t understand with that teenager, because I’ve been INVITED to just hang out. I’ll take that, for sure. I’ll be more aware that the magic and mystery of Life and God and Love is RIGHT NOW. Not later, but now. And I CAN say yes to this moment. And life will be better, and I will be better for it.

3.     I will EMBRACE that this is my 40^th year. Not fight it. Not bemoan it. EMBRACE it. Hot dog—I’m a real grown up now. I’ll live into this year by being comfortable in my own skin. Seeing that almost 40, and being, actually, 40 is a wonderful beautiful thing. Insecurities—you have no place in this year. Begone with you. I will look forward to that day, knowing that I am the most beautifulist, sexist version of myself. (see—no quotes—it must be true!!!)

4.     When I’m overwhelmed with life, the universe and those days where there isn’t enough coffee in the world to make it all better I will do these three things—Breathe. Pray. Listen. I’ll remember that it’s okay, whatever mess I’m in the middle of will, eventually, sort itself out. Will it be what I want? Maybe not, but I’ll deal with it when it gets here. It’s not up to me, nor am I able to fix, change, save or solve anything and everything that comes my way. And, somethings can, actually, wait until tomorrow. Breathe, pray, listen. Because God is here and I know it best when I do those things.

5.     I’ll groggily stumble out of bed each and every day, put my contacts in without losing one, brush my teeth and shower (because smelling pretty helps that beautifulist and sexy thing), drink my first cup of coffee of the day (for the benefit of all of humankind-you’re welcome world) and basically live my life. In thankfulness. In joy. In contentment. Knowing that whatever the day will bring I have a family who loves me and a God who is real and present in this messed up crazy world. And I can live into the day because I’ve got them.

I don't control the universe.

So begins a note I have made for myself and taped to my desk. My new desk. In my new office. For my new pastoral gig. Just over a month ago I was called to a church for my first solo position. It's exciting. And terrifying. And sometimes just regular--which helps my head not explode when it's exciting and terrifying. 

It's a great church. Really. I am falling in love with these people (as if it hasn't happened already and I'm just trying to think I'm taking it slow.) They already have great ministry in place, they are healthy, they are eager...and still, as with every church there are a few things that can be tweaked. Things they are hoping for, dreaming of and wanting. Those and other things I think would be perfect for ministry. And then I remember it's not my ministry. It's our ministry. And thus the importance for my note to myself. 

Because it really isn't about me. I don't have to control the universe. And thank God for that. It's about this amazing God we worship and how somehow when we all get together with purpose in our hearts we can do beautiful things in the world. We're full of hope and joy and...anticipation. It's as if advent began weeks ago instead of just now. 


We're clearly in our honeymoon of ministry, these folks and I. And yet, we're also laying groundwork for our future relationships and ministry together. I remind myself that I am here for the long haul, this is not a layover in my life until I get to the place I've been trying to get to for years. This is it. The real deal. And it's awesome. And I feel a bit giddy at times. But, then sometimes I think, "oh no. This is FOR REAL."

It's not like if I make a misstep it's all over, I think they are a pretty grace-filled bunch. But, I'm not sure I'm that grace-filled for myself. I tend to want to control what I do pretty tightly. I don't typically put that expectation on others, that's a small little gift I generously give myself.

Thus the note. 

The ever important, breathe, listen, advice from and for myself. The advice that is a chorus of a thousand other ministers. The advice that says, in a hundred ways, and yet in only a few words, that I've got this. Not that I can control everything so that I'm comfortable. But that I can remember, when it's important, that I don't. And I can be okay with that. Because that's ministry--all of us--breathing and listening together.