Three Perks of Being Free from Party Panic

For years, I thought having the gift of hospitality meant throwing the perfect party. I got all serious and grim-faced. Stressin’ and obsessin’. Dusting. Cleaning. Straightening. Scrubbing. I wore myself out striving for perfection. But no more!

During my SURRENDER YEAR, I broke free (in lots of ways!) and discovered three secrets to throwing a great party.

My husband and I decided to celebrate Mother’s Day differently this year. We had our parents over for breakfast Saturday morning instead of eating out for lunch on Sunday. When you’re free of Party Panic, you can break traditions. :-)

Did everything go perfectly? No. Would the old Julie have stressed over the flaws? Absolutely.

I used our wedding china and my grandmother’s stemware and green Depression glass serving pieces. I don’t have silver and Mother offered to bring hers.

While I was setting the table, she called. “Oops, we’re on the way and I forgot the silver.”

Ordinarily, I’d have panicked.

Fine china with everyday forks and spoons!

And I didn’t have enough of my grandmother’s green glasses, so I had to use a couple of yellow ones.

And I left the strawberries on the counter for two days and they got moldy.

And I burned the bottoms of the biscuits.

And I forgot to wipe the pollen off  the doo-dads outside on the front porch.

But you know what? None of my imperfections mattered because…

…being free of Party Panic meant I could…

1. Forget about myself.

2. Have fun at my own parties.

3. Love others from my heart.

The root of my Party Panic and Perfectionism was PRIDE.

What a waste of time and energy!

There won’t be a perfect party until we get to Heaven.

Love,

Julie

Three Sweet Lessons from a Cup of Starbucks Coffee

Last week, my doctor suggested I start giving myself B-12 shots. My blood work revealed a low B-12 level. I’m a medical assistant and have given injections, but never to myself. I knew I could do it, but I wasn’t looking forward to it. That morning, I got a peculiar idea. The thought felt gentle. Warm. And utterly ridiculous.

A certain nurse would be teaching me to give the injections. I have CELIAC DISEASE and whenever I call the doctor with a question, this nurse helps me.

Take her a cup of coffee.

That’s silly. I don’t even know if she likes coffee.

Do it anyway.

What about sugar and cream? I’m not pestering her to find out…

Take the coffee.

I drove past the doctor’s office and turned into STARBUCKS.

This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Even if she likes coffee, I don’t know what kind to get her. Maybe she doesn’t do caffeine. Maybe I should get her hot tea.

Get her your favorite kind.

I ordered two cups of Sumatra.

Signing in at the doctor’s office, I started rambling to the girl behind the counter. “This is for my nurse. She’s been so sweet to me, but I’m not sure if she likes–”

“Are you kidding? She loves Starbucks.”

“What about sugar and cream?”

“She has her own concoction she adds.”

Handing my nurse the coffee, three unexpected things happened:

1. I forgot about myself. My health. My concerns.

2. My nurse became a real person to me. We talked a little about her world. And she loves Sumatra!

3. Learning to give myself shots, I felt no fear–only a big dose of gratitude.

Thank You, God. So many blessings from a cup of coffee.

Can you relate?

Love,

Julie

A Friday Night Miracle

“Probably ninety-nine percent of people have never seen this,” my husband said. Friday night, we weren’t expecting to spot anything amazing as we headed toward the restaurant. We were just riding down same road we’ve traveled thousands of times, going about our everyday routine, when all of a sudden, we spotted them.

Three baby foxes!

This one was the bravest–the other two ran inside the hole in the concrete.

We sat there watching. Whispering.  “They look sorta like kittens and a little like puppies,” I said. “You sure they’re foxes?”

“Positive. This is incredible.”

We watched for a few more minutes. Pretty soon Holy chills covered me.

There’s a message here, God seemed to say. Pay attention.

“We don’t live this way, do we?” Rick said.

“What do you mean?”

“Expecting God to show up and surprise us always–at any time.”

“We really don’t.”

“We should,” he said, as the baby fox dashed out of sight.

“You’re right.” I reached for his hand. “We should.”

This morning Oswald Chambers confirmed our Friday night discussion in My Utmost for His Highest

“To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, not knowing what tomorrow may bring. This is generally expressed with a sigh of sadness, but it should be an expression of BREATHLESS EXPECTATION.”

Breathless expectation!

Oswald says…

“When we have the right relationship with God, life is full of SPONTANEOUS JOYFUL UNCERTAINTY AND EXPECTANCY.”

Oh, Lord, let me live every day expecting You to break in at any moment.

Because You can.

You have.

You will.

Has God surprised you lately?

Love,

Julie

 

The Wonderful Wisdom of Baby Chicks

Saturday, the Julie-I’m-Becoming had an idea. I wanted to be on the lookout for new ways to praise God. As I poured another cup of coffee, my 21-year-old son came inside from feeding the chickens. “Mom, I think I heard baby chicks.” Thomas’s announcement made me smile. After he grew up, he stopped saying things like, “Look, Mom, come here. You gotta see this!”

If Thomas was right, it would be the first chicks born in our coop.

He went back outside and sure enough–he heard them again. We let Mama and the babies get settled in on Saturday, but Sunday morning, I couldn’t wait any longer. We walked down the path through the woods.

Here she is, doing her job, keeping her chicks warm.

 Guess what happened when we tossed in some breakfast?

While Mama ate, her babies scurried along after her. Wherever she went, her chicks followed. They didn’t leave her. Not for a second.

These mixed BANTAM chicks were born knowing Mama is…

Their comforter.

Their protector.

Their provider.

They trust her. She’s everything to them.

They just look so grateful, don’t they?

After seeing God’s newborn creations right in my own backyard, I added three more entries to my GRATITUDE JOURNAL. :-)

April 21, 2013

#1402. Thomas telling me the news.

# 1403. Two chicks born!

# 1404. The wonderful wisdom of baby chicks.

Lord, I pray ”my soul follows hard after You” just like these baby chicks. Psalms 63.8

Have you discovered something new to praise Him for lately?

P.S. My word this year is “FOLLOW.”

Love,

Julie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Living (and Flying!) Fearlessly

For those of you who’ve been trampled by fear, this post is for you. Since I was a little girl, my go-to emotion has been fear. I’ve been afraid of zillions of things. Flying. Public speaking. Failing. Succeeding. Not measuring up. Fear is so exhausting, and it snatches up all the good stuff in life.

For years, flying wore me out. I was convinced it was my job to keep the plane in the air. I’m serious. I sat without moving (didn’t dare want to tip the plane) and kept my muscles rigid. If I relaxed–even for a second–the plane would plummet to the ground. I stared at one spot on my lap, never daring to glance out window. Too scary. Besides, I had to concentrate. My job was to keep the plane in the air.

Kind of like how I approached life. If it’s to be, it’s up to me.

I didn’t want to let go of my illusion of control.

I’m cringing while I’m typing this… I thought I could do a better job flying the plane than the pilot and God.

But during my SURRENDER process, I began laying down my fears.

There’s really no other way to live–really live, than to let go.

Guess what? I’m not afraid to fly anymore! Zero fear.

Flying home from the GUIDEPOSTS  workshop last weekend, as we approached Atlanta, I had to take a celebration picture. Leaning over my sleeping husband I whispered, “Thank You, Lord. You’re amazing. I’m free. I’m not afraid.”

If anyone is caught in fear, believe me. I understand. Let me know. I’ll pray.

Do not fear, for I am with you. Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. Isaiah 41:10. NAS

Love,

Julie

 

Do You Have a Bossy Friend Too?

I have a great friend. A writer. She’s a member of my critique group. We call her Bossy Pants. You’d think with a nickname like that, we don’t like her. Not true. We adore her. But this weekend, I knew she was wrong about something.

A few of us from our critique group attended a Guideposts workshop at The Peabody Hotel in Memphis, TN. Lunchtime came and the hotel staff arranged a gorgeous platter of meats and cheese beside a mountain of bread. I’d told them earlier that I have to eat gluten-free. (I have Celiac.)

“I’m putting your tray by itself,” a server said. Picking up my food, I noticed someone had accidentally put a plate of bread on top of my tray. Bread’s a no-no for me, so I moved it and sat down to eat.

“Julie,” Bossy Pants said. “That’s probably your bread.”

“Can’t be.”

“Why would she have given it to you?”

Servers make mistakes. “I’m fine with just meat and cheese.”

“Don’t you want a sandwich?”

Well, of course, but I can’t have one.

To prove I was right, I headed down the hall and found the server. “You must’ve put this bread on my tray by mistake. I can’t–”

“That bread’s especially for you, honey,” she said. “It’s gluten-free.”

I didn’t just get enough bread for a sandwich. I got SIX pieces of soft, warm GF bread!!

“You’re right again!” I hugged Bossy.

“Told ya.” Her real name is Stephanie Thompson. Saturday, she was presented with a plaque that says, “I’m not bossy. I’m just helpful.” :-)

And she is.

Stephanie cares enough to:

1. Stand alone (if necessary) for what’s right.

2. Push you for your best.

3. “Speak the truth in love.” Ephesians 4:15

Do you have friends like Stephanie? Aren’t they wonderful!

P.S. The bread was from Rudi’s.

I Knew if I Could Just Get Close Enough…

“You probably shouldn’t tell anybody you asked me that question,” my husband said one night last week. We were standing in the backyard looking at the moon. Fascinated, I snapped pictures with my phone like a private investigator. I wanted to understand the mystery of outer space.

If I can only get close enough to see…

I ran inside for the good camera.

 

 

 

Here the part I’m not supposed to tell you.

“Which one moves?” I said. “The earth, the moon, or the sun.”

Rick stared at me. “Surely you know the answer.”

I’m excellent at gauging the emotional atmosphere in a room, but math, directions, the laws of science…

Rotating his arms in huge circles, my husband explained the solar system.

I nodded, pretending to understand. (If you’re like me, this site has good pictures to help us get it.)

But what keeps us from falling into outer space? What about nights when I can’t see the moon? Where does it go?

The next morning, I told God I’d never figure it all out.

You don’t have to, He seemed to say. I’ll never ask you to re-hang the moon or make the sun come up.

I sensed Him smiling.

I smiled back.

I only ask you to trust Me with childlike faith.

I can do that, I told him.

I don’t have to know all the answers in life.

I don’t have to get close to the moon to figure out how it works.

I only need to stay close to my Father. He understands.

*picture from http://kevingriggs.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/childlike-faith.jpg

Love Julie, who is no longer puzzled by the moon. I’m just glad it’s there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This One’s for You, Daddy

The other night, I walked down our long gravel driveway, just walking and thinking. My husband had some of our 70′s music on in the garage. Coming up the driveway, I heard Stevie Nicks singing “Landslide.” Ohhhh, that song! It came out almost 40 years ago and still moves me.

I had a feeling God had a message for me. That song wouldn’t let go.

Stevie sings about seasons changing, children getting older, and herself getting older.

I know how you feel, Stevie.

I touched the hard knot of a closed bud. The tail-end of winter hanging on tight.

 

Seasons of my life flashed through my thoughts. Leaving for our honeymoon at 18 and 19.

 

 

The births of our babies.

Being a mama of little children. Piano lessons. A thousand ball games. Raising teenagers. Proms. A daughter’s wedding.

 

And then Stevie’s strong clear words wrapped around my heart.

She asks herself, ”Can I handle the seasons of my life?”

Years ago, I would’ve answered her question like this. ”Yes, of course. I have everything under control.”

But life caught up with me.

Landslides brought me down. Just like Stevie.

Difficult seasons taught me I can’t make it without God.

I came inside and found Stevie’s “Landslide” video. This time I heard her softly spoken words at the beginning of the song. “This one’s for you, Daddy,” she says, dedicating the song to her father.

The message slipped into my heart.

Gratitude for landslides. They brought me to my knees.

 This one’s for You, Daddy. My life is Yours.

Have tough seasons brought you to your knees?

Love,

Julie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three Life Lessons from Clothes Shopping…Seriously

I have this peculiar trait. I don’t like shopping for clothes. Especially at malls. Once those glass doors close behind me, I get claustrophobic and confused. So many choices, people, and fashion rules. But I have two upcoming events and need to look spiffy.

Remember (was it during the 80′s?) when we learned to dress in the colors of a certain season? I’m an autumn and have worn army fatigue brown, green, and beige for years.

Color Me Beautiful explains it.

I asked my fashion guru daughter Katie for help. We went to North Georgia Premium Mall, an outlet mall. I had no clue outlet shopping is nothing like regular mall shopping!

You can breathe.

And think.

And laugh.

And sit on a bench, eat ice cream, and watch birds.

Inside the first store, Katie flitted around piling clothes over her arm.

“Kaaaaaatie! I can’t wear those colors. I’m an autumn.”

“Trust me, Mom.” She grabbed a navy blue jacket.

“No! Navy’s for a winter person. I might go with periwinkle, but not navy. I don’t want the jacket. ”

“It’s not a jacket. It’s called a blazer.” She laughed. “Just try it on.”

In the dressing room, I texted a picture to my friend Robin hoping she’d vote for the shirt with warm colors.

“Definitely the blue. Looks like springtime.”

But I’m an autumn.

And then something magical happened when I slipped on the navy blue blazer.

I hardly recognized my new self.

“Wow,” I whispered. “I never knew…”

On the way home, my 2012 word SURRENDER found me.

Surrender can mean…

1. Some old ways of thinking fade.

2. I swallow my pride, ask for help, and listen.

3. I trust God with shopping. With everything.

P.S. Katie had coupons. :-) Everything was 40% off. She says Old Navy has colored jeans on sale!

I bet you love shopping, don’t you? 

*Georgia Premium Outlet Mall picture from geolocations.us.

Love,

Julie

 

 

Message in the Morning Light

Early one morning last week, I began writing in my prayer journal. I’ve been praying about several requests for years. Sometimes I’ll just list the first names of people on my heart. Or one word of a situation. That morning I wrote out my list in a long line and whispered, “You know, God. Same things I always pray.”

My mind began to drift. And doubt.

I don’t understand Yours ways. Looks like all You’d have to do is….

I made a few suggestions as though maybe He’d gotten confused. Or forgetful.

Leaning back in my recliner, a long rectangular beam of morning sunlight fell across my journal.

We’d had rain for several days–first day of morning sunshine in a while.

Studying the of light on my journal, my heart felt warm–you know, that gentle way God gets your attention.

What are You saying? I’m listening.

With only a flicker of faith, I snapped a picture hoping if I captured the light, I’d understand His message.

Deep in my heart, it seemed He spoke something like this:

If I revealed the answers to your prayers right now, you couldn’t handle the glory.

It would be too much for you. Too bright.

I know what’s best. I haven’t forgotten.

Trust Me, My child. I’m Your Father.

I noticed the Scripture at the bottom of the page, and the way the little girl is skipping.

Full of expectancy and joy.

“Okay, Lord. I get it. Thank You. Back to dancing in slivers of Light and trusting.”

Do you have a prayer request? I’d love to pray for you.

Love,

Julie

P.S. Thank you, Roberta,  for this prayer journal. See how much I love it! XO