I Called Myself The B-Word

I hate it when I spiral out of control and the only adjective left to describe me is the B-word.

It's the worst word I could possibly call myself. But I'm calling myself the B-word today.

I'm BUSY.

Stupid busy. Like crazy stupid busy.

I say "crazy" and "stupid" because I create my own life, my own schedule, so therefore, I also have to own the fact that I create my own busyness.  

Confession: I was so tired after the last couple of crazy busy weeks that I "slept in" until 7:15am today and didn't wash my hair before going to work.

Okay, if I'm going to confess I might as well be honest. I didn't even shower this morning. (Insert head hang here. My dirty head is hanging in a hat, btw.)

My husband reminded me last night that life is seasonal. A month of stupid busyness is often followed by a slower pace. The time to be really, truly concerned is when there is never a break in the pace. When you stop sleeping because your mind won't slow down. You skip regular meals because you're "working through lunch" only to find yourself eating a Snickers and drinking a Dr. Pepper at 3:00pm and calling it a "caffeine and protein" snack. You arrive home from work late. Again. Grab your laptop or your phone, work a little more. Then fall into bed dog tired. But the moment your head hits the pillow your eyes spring wide open and you begin writing a "to do" list in your mind that keeps you up until 3am. So at 6am when your alarm goes off to tell you to get up and go to the gym you hit snooze until 7:15am, open your eyes, hit the floor running and leave the house without washing your hair (or possibly without taking a shower).

We have to slow our roll. No one will do it for us. Did you see how no where in my list of the fast-pace did I even mention stopping to read God's Word and pray. How in the world will we ever even know if we're on the right track when we aren't spending time with the One who creates our purpose? 

Slow down.  Don't stop. Just slow down. 

Sleep. Eat. Read. Pray. Sing. Laugh. See a movie. Have coffee with friends. Get a pedicure. 

Don't make me call you the B-word. 

Keep going (at a slower pace). 

The Green-Eyed Monster

I hate to admit that I'm 28…okay, 32….okaaaaaay, 34 and a half years old, and I still get bit by the green-eyed monster sometimes. Jealousy. Envy.

Yuck. (Hanging my head in shame.) What an awful emotion. What a useless waste of time and energy. It's so ugly. It's so distasteful. It's so dark and sinful. 

I'm not the person who gets jealous over another woman's new fancy SUV (because I drive a minivan); no, that doesn't bother me. And I'm not the girl who gets jealous over someone's designer shoes or handbag (because mine came from Target or JC Penney); no, that doesn't bother me either. 

What incites this ugly nasty thing in me is fear. Fear that I've missed an opportunity to do something and that someone else has taken that opportunity up in my place. "She gets to do that. Go there. Write that. Speak at this or that." 

Fear multiplied by my controlling nature equals jealousy. The result of this type of jealousy is a break-down of relationship. Because you can't be genuinely happy for someone when you're being eaten alive by jealousy. And if you can't be truly happy for the people you love, then there's a problem…and it's you (me). Jealousy is dangerous. Proverbs 27:4 says, "Anger is cruel, and wrath is like a flood, but jealousy is even more dangerous." 

But the REAL problem behind the emotion and the fear is this lie: God doesn't have my best interest in mind.  He's giving him/her/them more than He's giving me/us. He's forgotten me; left me out; picked me last. And we all hate being picked last, don't we?!?!

That lie snowballs into the next lie that says: I can't trust God, so I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands and make things happen. 

The end result of all the lies is usually: I make a BIG FAT MESS of things!

Because the TRUTH is that God DOES have my best interest in mind. But HE, and only HE, knows HOW I'm supposed to get THERE. And maybe I have to go through HERE in order to grow up and get to THERE. Because what I'm going through now is going to make me the useful subject that He needs for THERE.

And the people in my life with the great opportunities today may just be the open doors of tomorrow that God takes me through to get me from HERE to THERE.

Fear is dumb. Jealousy is dumber.

God is great. Opportunity is good. Even if it's not mine. 

Keep going. 

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11 

I Did the Ugly Cry in Front of 2,000 People

Yes, I did the ugly cry on stage at church in front of 2,000 people.

All I was supposed to do was close out the message at church. Get on stage, be friendly,  smile and tell everyone to invite their friends/families/neighbors/co-workers to our Christmas Eve services next week. But when I started to speak, I was overwhelmed by my own life experience that had nearly crippled me during Christmases past. And so I did the only thing a proud woman could do - I cried and snotted and sweated and shook and I told the people my real story in a 3-minute farewell. 

Here's what brought on my public humiliation:

My pastor/friend/surrogate-dad, Griff Jones (CrossRoads Fellowship in Odessa, Texas), taught about the loneliness that often plagues people this time of year. Loneliness accompanied by depression and sadness and, sometimes, despair. The opening song to his message was "Eleanor Rigby" by the Beatles. The song chimes a haunting line in its chorus that echoes, "Ah, look at all the lonely people." 

I could relate to all those lonely people. Fourteen Christmases ago I was one of them.

I had wandered far from God and was inching my way back, starting by going to church, sitting in a pew, trying not to be noticed, but also not wanting to be invisible.  

Fourteen Christmases ago, Christmas was especially difficult because of my Dad's battle with alcoholism - it always seemed to reach a peak during the holidays, and Christmas was the worst. I felt dread as Christmas approached and that made me feel guilty, like I was being ungrateful for the gift of Jesus. I felt undeserving of God's forgiveness. I felt so far gone that grace couldn't reach me. But I went to church on Christmas Eve. And I felt welcomed. I felt accepted. The people at church looked at me and said, "Merry Christmas! Welcome! You look lovely tonight. God bless you."  I went back to church the next Sunday and the next Sunday and the Sunday after that. I joined Bible studies and I formed healthy relationships with other people who were following Jesus and they helped me and mentored me along this new path and over the course of time something happened in my life…transformation. 

Four years later, my Dad came to church with me on Christmas Eve. When the communion juice and bread came to us, my Dad passed because he felt so guilty for his willful choice to disobey God and hurt everyone who loved him. I passed too. Instead, I held my Daddy's hand, sang "Silent Night" and wept hot but hopeful tears that my Dad would repent, turn his life around. 

It was my Dad's last Christmas. Six months later he died by suicide. Despair won that battle but ultimately, because my Dad had put his faith and heart in the hands of Jesus years before, death didn't have the final word. My Dad spent Christmas 2005 worshiping at the feet of Jesus. No longer in the pain of addiction; healed and whole. 

But I still wish his story would have had an earthly turnaround. I wish I could say that Dad went to rehab, got sober, rededicated his life to Christ and was sharing his story with other recovering addicts and enjoying his grand babies. I wish...

That's my Christmas wish for someone. Someone who is lonely. Someone who is in the grips of addiction or hopelessness or despair or depression or loss. My wish is that their life would intersect with the person of Jesus Christ and they would experience the life-giving, life-changing, bad-choice-redeeming, forever-forgiving, redeeming Savior that lays in the manger. So gentle. So humble. No judgement. Just love. 

So I stood on stage and gave a version of that story. I urged the audience, through a shaking voice, to look into the eyes of the desperate people around them offer them an invitation to a Christmas Eve service. They might say no. But what if they say "yes" and it changes the course of their life? It changed mine. 

Wherever you are, Keep Going and take someone with you to church this Christmas!

"God places the lonely in families; He sets the prisoners free and gives them joy." Psalm 68:6 (NLT)

"He is a God who is passionate about His relationship with you." Exodus 34:14 (NLT)

"God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." Hebrews 13:5 (NIV)

Getting Real - A Thanksgiving Confession

“’Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house you could feel the tension mounting from my handsome OCD spouse.”

That could have been the opening line to a poem titled, “The Night Before Thanksgiving.” It could also have been aptly named, “World War P". The “P” standing for “Phillips” because let me tell you, it was on like donkey kong in our house last week. The blog went silent. But our house got loud.

Brad and I resolved not to use the “D” word early on in our marriage. No divorce. We vowed ‘til death do us part. But last week was so bad that I believe Brad had a fleeting thought of “Well, I could start a prison ministry.” Because although divorce is not an option, homicide was to be taken under consideration.

We are madly in love with each other. But some days we are just mad. Last week was just a mad week. A week we’re not proud of. A week we are recovering from. A week where we needed forgiveness given and received. And all on the same week where I talked about how much my family LOOOOOOOOVES each other on Studio7.  I just had to go and talk about our deep love and forgiveness for one another – I couldn’t have known we were on the verge of the marital apocalypse that ensued the days to follow. What did we fight about? You ask. Oh, who but satan in hell, knows. It was stupid, petty, silliness. The sort of things that mount up around the holidays in families that are too busy and too tired and too sick to function properly.

This week we are rising from the ashes. We prayed together – twice. We are working our way back to laughing and smiling. We are taking our feelings off our shoulders, putting on our grown up panties and communicating clearly. We are not just going to survive the holidays. We are going to thrive. We are going to give honor and glory to God for sending His Son to be a love sacrifice for our sins. And we’re going to be attacked viciously by a real, live, raging Enemy who wants, more than anything, to watch Christian couples crumble, fall and finally fail at this marriage thing (because marriage is God’s idea and Satan wants to mess up what God has joined together).

So to all of you who had a similar Thanksgiving week experience, know that I am praying for you and that you're not alone. We didn't have that picture perfect Thanksgiving meal where everyone is dressed beautifully and sits down to eat at a table for 12 set by Martha Stewart herself. Brad and I didn't even sit by each other during our Thanksgiving meal. We sat in different rooms! You're NOT alone! Also know that I am praying for your marriage. God’s mercies are new and available to us every day. Every day is a new chance for a miracle of love and forgiveness to enter your heart, mind, marriage, life.

Look for the miracle. Be the miracle. And let’s be so together and in love with our spouse on Christmas day that it shakes the foundation of hell.

 Don’t give up.

 Keep going!

 “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed,


Because His compassions fail not.

They are new every morning;


Great is Your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,


“Therefore I hope in Him!”

Lamentations 3:22-24