Category: Church

  • Practicing Trauma Recovery and Replanting My Feet

    In 2017, I never thought I’d be back in the writing world. I “retired” and went into nursing school and closed down this blog and my public social media. I began that goodbye saying, “This is my final post.” It wasn’t, and so I won’t say that this is my final post. I only have two feet to put in my mouth and I’ve used both of them up.

    The Revival

    In 2018, I decided to report my childhood sexual abuse. Mark Aderholt, the man who sexually abused me in 1996, was arrested and indicted on four felonies: Indecency with a Child: Sexual Contact and Sexual Assault of a Child under 17 years old. While the Tarrant County DA accepted a plea bargain presented by the defense (Aderholt pleaded guilty to a fifth charge: Assault Causing Bodily Injury), I decided that this was the end of that trauma in my life.

    Recovery is a lifelong journey, but I’ve taken my power back. This is over because I spoke the truth and I forgave him. This ending has nothing to do with his cowardly lack of admission but instead my choice to leave it behind. I had the opportunity to face him at his sentencing and read him a victim impact statement which you can read here.

    This event was in the middle of a reckoning in the evangelical church (in my case, the Southern Baptist Convention and it’s foreign missions organization, the International Mission Board) and the #churchtoo movement. It’s been encouraging to see the baby steps they are taking to prevent and heal sexual abuse that’s happened in the church. It’s frustrating that (yet I am grateful for) the mainstream media bringing attention to it after years of voices within the church trying, but it is what it is, nonetheless. A personally meaningful and memorable piece was when Rachel Martin from NPR’s Morning Edition took the time to listen to my story. The last-minute of the interview is a perfect example of holding space for someone in their grief.

    In the journey over the last year and a half, I saw the need for a resource for those who support survivors. I began writing it with the intent to self-publish it, but the publisher of my first book decided to pick this one up. My latest book, Healing Together, A Guide to Supporting Sexual Abuse Survivors, released on October 15, 2019, through Zondervan. You can get a copy here.

    As I did in 2017, I don’t expect to pick up the pen professionally again at this point. I began nursing school in 2017 and after a year hiatus due to the criminal investigation, I intend to finish my BSN at the end of 2023 and continue on to graduate school to work in psychiatric nursing. My current job at a DFW hospital system, which I love, the joy of serving my family and my patients and my focus on my education is more than enough to prevent my hands from being idle.

    Practices in Healing

    Some have asked what therapies and practices I’ve found to be most effective in my healing. I say the word practice because that’s exactly how it works. We practice. Sometimes we master it and sometimes we fail. The point is, we practice. Have grace and be gentle with yourself.

    The below practices and resources are the ones that I’ve personally found to be exceptionally helpful at healing trauma and opening up space for me to find new joy, make daily choices to continue to grow, stay healthy, and not allow the trauma of the past to linger within my body now that the threat is gone. It’s been about nine months of intentionally choosing to move within this flow, and while there are challenging days and events, I’ve found that far more often than not, I feel balanced, calm, and hopeful. Disclaimer: I’m not a doctor or psychologist, so please check with your own health care providers to see what healthy options are available to you in your unique situation.

    Physical Health

    • Eating a completely vegetarian (no meat or fish) diet, consuming fewer animal products (usually humanely curated cheese, butter, and eggs), fewer processed foods (keep in mind, we have a three-year-old so boxed mac and cheese is a staple).
    • Drinking a lot of water. A LOT. No soda or alcohol, and coffee as needed but only until noon.
    • Going to bed ideally by 9 pm (10 pm at the latest) and waking up by 5:30 am (6:30 am at the latest) even on weekends. In either case, listening to my body and giving it grace for the exceptions is just as important.
    • Exercising in some capacity once or twice a day with slow-paced exercise. For me, it’s been yoga, mostly power yoga (yoga combined with HITT and calisthenics) for 30 minutes a day (and if I can’t do that, at least 10 in the morning or before bed). I also try walking the dogs every night after Charlotte goes to bed but when it’s cold or windy, Tim graciously walks them. Also, stretching every morning and before bed.
    • Practicing deep breathing in the morning, at lunch, before bed, and as needed.
    • Being more intentional about my posture. This tiny act helps breathing, the energy I put out into the space around me, and my confidence. Who knew?

    Mental and Emotional Health

    Spiritual and Relational Health

    Out of all the health compartments, this is the one I struggle with the most. I’m introverted so I refuel alone, and after working a full day with 20-30 patients and coworkers, even on the best of days (most of them!) I am mentally fulfilled and also exhausted. Even with my introvertedness, I prefer face-to-face contact, and I’m horrible at responding to email and texts. I communicate with my best friends (who don’t live in DFW) on Snapchat just so we can use video instead of texting.

    With that disclosure, here are some goals I’ve set for myself and that I’m intentionally taking baby steps to accomplish. Remember: practice.

    • I want to join interest groups. There are a few health collectives/co-ops and yoga and hiking groups I’m trying to get the courage to show up to and practice in a group. I’ve gone to a few meetings of a DFW group that works to communicate the research behind psychedelics to people who’ve never looked at these medications in a therapeutic way. As a future psychiatric nurse practitioner hoping to help survivors of trauma, this area (if you can’t tell) is incredibly interesting to me. The group also exists to educate those who choose to use psychedelics about their risks and best practices so that if someone chooses to use these substances, they do so in an informed way. To be clear: the group does not encourage or promote the use of these medications, it is not a place to buy or sell them and anyone who joins with the intent or expression to do so is not allowed to participate. It’s an incredibly diverse group of professionals of all ages, students, city leaders, law enforcement, and religious leaders.
    • I’ve started to explore the desire (it’s a very, very, very small desire) to start attending church again. The place where Charlotte goes to preschool is a part of a UMC church close to where we live, and we went to a couple of services there when she had events during the Sunday services. Maybe. Maybe.
    • I’m preparing (it’s on my bedside table) to read some classic Christian literature that I used to find encouraging in the past. Maybe I’ll even pick up a Bible again. Part of this effort, as well as the desire to explore going to church, is to cautiously open up the doors for Charlotte to begin to understand the importance of faith in her life. I’m not sure what this looks like yet, but for now, being open to the idea is a scary step.

    Being mindful and aware of every day and every choice has reshaped my heart’s desire into unplugging from online spaces as my norm. And like in 2017, I plan on being less engaged online and more engaged in the tangible interactions in front of me (not that there is anything wrong or bad about choosing to be engaged online; that’s an entirely valid place to exist and helps many, many people). I’ll still pop in from time to time, and I’m encouraged by rekindling old friendships and forming new friendships over the last couple of years.

    I think that’s it for now. I’ve been writing this over a series of my “uninterrupted 30-minute lunch breaks” and I need to go back to work. I’ll probably be back some time. Probably. Maybe. We’ll see.

    Regardless, I’m grateful. Thank you.

    Postscript: More About Healing Together

    Here’s the back copy of Healing Together, so you can see if it’s a helpful resource for you. I’m pretty proud of it, to be honest. The work I’ve done in nursing school researching and practicing trauma-informed methodologies proved to be extremely useful in this book. It’s not a picture-perfect “I went through trauma. I healed. Jesus saved me. He’ll save you too” kind of book. My beliefs are changing within where they are rooted and “healing” is a big word with a lot of nuanced meaning. It’s my goal that the book informs you about what trauma does to our bodies and that it offers some gentle suggestions for walking alongside someone who’s been abused.

    Sex is such an intimate topic historically wrapped in shame and when someone shares they were sexually abused, we may not know how to respond.

    With recent #MeToo and #ChurchToo movements, we are learning just how many men, women, boys, and girls have suffered sexual abuse at the hands of a trusted person, often family members or leaders in the church. Sexual abuse is rampant in modern society and now–sometimes many years later–sexual abuse survivors are sharing their stories.

    Anne Marie Miller is a survivor of childhood clergy sexual abuse and has shared her journey toward healing with audiences all over the world. After speaking with thousands of survivors and their loved ones, she saw the need for a fundamental and practical guide for helping supporters of sexual abuse survivors understand the basics of abuse, trauma, healing, and hope. Drawing from her own experience as a survivor and evidence-based research, Anne addresses these questions and more in Healing Together:

    What is sexual abuse?

    How can I help survivors?

    Who are predators and how do they groom victims?

    How does trauma affect survivors?

    What happens when someone doesn’t remember the details of their abuse?

    How does abuse wound the physical, emotional, and spiritual health of people who have been abused?

    When and how should authorities be contacted?

    How do you talk to your children about sexual abuse?

    What are the warning signs of abuse?

    Is healing possible?

    Whether you are a spouse, a family member, a friend, or a church leader looking for easy-to-navigate resources to understand and support sexual abuse survivors, you’ll find answers and hope in these pages.

    You can get a copy of Healing Together: A Guide to Supporting Sexual Abuse Survivors right here or if you’re looking for a bulk discount for 5+ books @ $5.00 a book, you can click right over here and use the discount code “HEALING” to get that price.

  • Abuse of Faith Article Part 4, Abused by Missionaries

    Today, the Houston Chronicle released the fourth part of their Abuse of Faith series, this one titled Abused by Missionaries. My story is included, including a darn powerful video done by Jon Shapely. We went to the apartment where my abuse occurred several times, and he captured the raw response I had returning to that location.

    Credit: Houston Chronicle

    As a result of going public with my story last year, the International Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention began an independent external investigation of their handling of past cases, including mine, and current policies related to sexual abuse. During the examination, I have had multiple opportunities to provide input, including raising concerns with how IMB handled my case when I reported my abuse in 2007.

    Several months ago, without knowing when this article would release, the organization asked if I could meet with them so we could discuss my situation to talk about what was not handled appropriately in the past and to learn specifics about the recommendations made by Gray Plant Mooty and how they will be implementing them.

    I had the opportunity to meet face-to-face with a member of IMB senior leadership and an officer of the Board of Trustees. The senior leader and officer recognized that some aspects of my case were not handled appropriately and apologized to me on behalf of the IMB. I also had the opportunity to ask questions and share my thoughts about IMB’s implementation of the examiner’s recommendations. I was encouraged by what they said and the additional details they shared. They assured me that IMB will make the changes recommended by GPM nd will move toward implementing best practices for prevention and response, even in many cases going beyond their legal duty.

    Here’s to hoping.

    In other news, nursing school is getting more intense and my book Healing Together has some exciting things happening behind the scenes. Above all, I have been learning just how valuable every moment is that I spend with my family, and I’m looking forward to pouring all of who I am-with as little distraction as possible-into my marriage and my daughter.

    I am still committed to advocating and doing everything I can to bring light to where light needs to be brought, shining it on other parts of the system that are not moving forward.

    As always, thank you. I am so grateful for your support and prayers and faithfulness.

    Anne

  • Sexual Abuse Survivor Update: Mark Aderholt, International Mission Board & Southern Baptist Convention

    It has been over four months since Mark Aderholt, the man who sexually abused me in 1996 and 1997, when I was 16 years old, was arrested and charged with three felonies: two counts of Indecency with a Child–Sexual Contact and one count of Sexual Assault of a Child under the age of 17.

    This arrest made headlines because the Southern Baptist Convention’s mission arm, the International Mission Board, knew about the abuse, found it to be credible after an internal investigation in 2007, and did not report it to authorities or within the SBC, citing they could potentially face legal issues if they had let Aderholt’s future employers know that he sexually abused a teenager when he was a student at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. That’s why he was able to get a job pastoring in an SBC church two months after he resigned from the IMB, and climbed the ranks into a state convention executive position.

    Even after his arrest, the IMB held defensive ground until their then-president, David Platt, returned from remote Africa and found out about the “extremely disturbing” situation. He and Dr. Russell Moore, president of the SBC’s Ethics and Religious Liberties Commission (ERLC), called to apologize and asked what I wanted them to do. I said I wanted them to open up my case and others to make sure any sexual abuse or misconduct that was criminal was reported to authorities and to make sure there were no other victims during Aderholt’s tenure overseas. Platt went over his public statement to make sure it addressed everything I wished and that night, released it. The following day, SBC president J.D. Greear, who was also aware of the incident, announced the SBC was launching a sexual abuse study group which was funded $250,000 in September.

    I wanted to issue this update to address questions I’ve received since all this happened.

    • Mr. Aderholt will be facing the Tarrant County grand jury very soon–within the next few weeks from what I understand. I am meeting with the ADA and prosecutor for this case this week. If he is indicted, he will have the chance to enter his plea (guilty/not guilty/etc.)
    • I emailed the IMB to get an update and received a reply from the current interim president, Clyde Meador. Mr. Meador was aware of my abuse in 2007 and was one of the people I spoke to from the IMB about it back then. He said I should expect to hear from the third party investigators (I do not know who this group is) in fall. I have yet to hear from them.
    • I have not been contacted by anybody in the SBC about the sexual abuse study group and from what I have been able to see in my brief glances on social media, it appears relatively obscure as far as any actionable details.
    • There have been a few public panels put on by the ERLC and other SBC entities, but unfortunately, I have not seen any true action taking place that is any different than before.
    • I do not see anything new that helps prevent abuse, that is looking into past credible abuse, or that is offering support to known survivors of abuse within the SBC. At a minimum, I absolutely think there should be a fund to help survivors receive trauma-informed therapeutic help.
    • I’ve decided I need to do what I can to help other survivors. I’m writing and self-publishing a book called Healing Together: A Guide for Helping Sexual Abuse Survivors that will be out as soon as I can get it done. I am hoping by the end of the year at the latest. Following me on social media is probably the best way to find out about it if you’re interested. (Twitter, Facebook, Instagram)

    It may appear the SBC has a mountain of a task to climb and in many ways it does; that’s what happens when you allow crime and sin to dirty up under your rugs for so long.

    At the same time, it’s really not that difficult.

    How? They could be in contact with survivors to by writing a short email or a dialing up a quick phone call. Any words of, “How are you? How can we pray? How is your family?” from the powers-that-be who have made promises to reconcile these wounds would actually make a huge difference, at least to me.

    I have communicated my personal wishes and clearly stated that hearing nothing from the SBC would be painful. In a majority of the places where I stated this, those requests have gone unanswered. And as I predicted, the silence is painful. They know and yet they do not act.

    I was hopeful this summer when these big statements were made. That hope, however, has been tempered by silence and relative inaction. In my case, instead of closing the gap of mistrust caused by the SBC, it continues to widen…maybe a bit more slowly now, but the stitches are being torn apart and the wound is still raw and open.

    Lest you think I’m sitting in a puddle of tears, not all is in despair: I am most encouraged and supported by local authorities and law and order. Constant contact, support, sincere inquiries into wellbeing, victim support services, face-to-face meetings, “we want to make this right for you and here is how we are doing it,” and people keeping promises make the criminal side of this ordeal a bit more bearable. Also, a HUGE amount of support from online–other survivors, pastors I don’t know, and people I have met along the way–has also been a great source of encouragement.

    Nursing school is going well and we are excited to be in our new home for the holidays, ending what seems to be a constant stream of moving and rentals. Charlotte is 2 1/2 and it’s a fun and crazy age that has us laughing and crying and sometimes visits to urgent care for big bumps on heads. Tim’s work has been incredibly supportive in giving him time off to even financially assisting with some medical bills. Even a VPs Tim’s company of 10K+ employees pulled me aside once to ask how this case is going and how we are doing—he saw it in the local paper here. I was amazed he put the awkwardness away and asked, “how are you?” and it spoke life into my heart.

    That’s all I have for now. Don’t give up asking for what is owed. Don’t hesitate to report your abuse. Ask for help. And don’t give up hope, but at the same time, learn not to expect it from the places you think it should come from, like the church.

    That’s what I’m learning (again) anyway.

     

    [edit: Need to add this to my post: there are 2 leaders who’ve been constant & supportive of me in this situation: Ed Stetzer and Dr. Russell Moore. I understand many people have many different feelings about lots of issues surrounding them, but they have both been very supportive. Worth noting. I also know they hosted 2 of the panels I have mentioned that I’m happy for, but don’t think they (the panels) do much. However, I want to give credit where credit is due and we have been grateful for their prayers and support on many occasion.]

  • Finding True Justice and True Grace in a #MeToo #ChurchToo Culture

    Several times over the last ten years, I found myself in the city where the man who sexually abused me as a child lived. Most of the time I was terrified to accidentally run into him. Sometimes I became full of rage and fantasized seeing him at a gas station and attacking him. And other times I would get caught off guard by my grief and sit in my car weeping outside the hotel where I was staying.

    As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, the myriad of emotions I experienced changed as naturally as the Texas sky in springtime. Sometimes I’d feel guilty about the complexity. Other times I wouldn’t.

    I learned that each emotion had its place.

    In March of this year, when I found out the man who abused me was never reported to law enforcement, a strong desire for justice gave me the extra courage I needed to walk forward. I felt validated knowing the criminal justice system would handle what the Southern Baptist Convention would not–and could not–handle. I felt a sweeping loss as my mental health suffered. I burned with indignation as this man, who already has taken so much of my life by his actions, consumed more: I lost sleep, I lost time with my daughter and my husband, and lost the easy joy I generally danced in.

    There were parts of me that wanted to destroy him. There were parts of me that wanted to destroy myself.

    And again, each emotion had its place.

    As I worked with law enforcement, my detective encouraged me to not share the name of the man who abused me publicly until they had everything in order for the criminal case they’re working on. They understood this man’s current role and his access to vulnerable people, including children. Yet the benefits of not coming out with his name publicly outweighed the risks in regard to the integrity of the criminal investigation. I respected their wishes then and I respect them now.

    Somehow this felt right and good and okay. Even though the only thing that remained between me exposing the man who did this to me was a “publish” button, I have yet to have peace about sharing my story in such a public way, most likely because of the condition of my heart. Some people have gone public and done it in a way that glorifies God while respecting the criminal process. I would have shared out of a place of vengeance.

    I’m glad I had a little extra space to reconsider going public because, for me, it was not the right choice to make at the time.

    have courage and be kind

    Since I’ve been offline for most of the last two years, I guess I forgot how ruthless the voices on social media are…myself included. In the last month, since I shared my story online (without identifying my abuser), I’ve clicked on enough hashtags and read enough fodder to lose a little bit of faith in the world (and in myself).

    Don’t mishear: there are some pretty awful people who have done some pretty awful things. Many well-respected men and women, especially within the SBC, have had their skeletons come out and be displayed for all the world to see.

    In the court of public opinion, most are starting to pay a hefty price for their sins and for their crimes. I want to reiterate that the people who commit these horrid acts–and the ones who cover them up–are ultimately responsible for whatever consequences come their way.

    But in all of this, there is something I just can’t get my spirit to shake off:

    This court of public opinion–social media, newspapers, blogs–is not and should not be the final destination of justice. However, it seems as if most of us treat it as the highest court of all, damning those who have lied, cheated, stolen, raped, abused, and covered up to a man-made hell of Twitter firestorms, petty insults, unnecessary commentary, and misplaced desires to have the final word.

    I understand as survivors of abuse we feel like we have no voice and now we can say whatever we want, when we want, to whomever we want. There is power in rediscovering our voice.

    We cannot neglect our responsibility to be like Christ and we cannot evade the call to exercise wisdom with how we discuss these things, especially in public forums.

    Justice and grace are not mutually exclusive.

    Does the man who abused me, who stole so much of my life from me as a sixteen-year-old and over the last 22 years deserve the justice coming his way? Yes.

    Does he deserve grace? No.

    But here’s the thing: I don’t deserve that grace either.

    I don’t write this in a self-deprecating manner.

    I don’t intend to minimize what has happened to me or to the countless number of women and men, boys and girls, who have been abused in the worst possible ways, and in the name of Jesus.

    The humbling reality we are faced with in this and in every part of our life is the very basic tenet of the Gospel: God so loved the world that He gave his only son to die for my sins, for your sins, and for the sins of the man who abused me.

    This includes his sin of abusing me.

    It is a grace none of us deserve but all of us can freely receive.

    I’m afraid that the beauty of this grace is being buried alive by the permission we now have to speak freely. Life and death are in the power of the tongue, and in our attempt to bring the light into darkness, we are inadvertently suffocating out the Life the world needs to survive.

    As we enter into this new climate of finding freedom from abuse that happened to us, let us not use this freedom as an opportunity to cause harm to others in the name of seeking justice.

    Let us recognize the same God who sought us out and asked us, “Where are you?” seeks out all of us, even the criminals hanging on the cross.

    When reconciliation plays out here on earth, may we remember the love of God that has reconciled us is also available to those who have hurt us.

    May we give thanks that all of our brokenness is healed through the same holy man on the same holy cross. This man is near to us when we are brokenhearted and he is near to those who have hurt us when they are brokenhearted. He grieves for us when we are far from Him and he grieves for the world when they are far from him.

    As justice begins to shine like the noon-day sun, may our hearts also shine with hope and grace for ourselves, for others, and for the world to come.

    Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

     

  • May It Be Light and Only Light

    May It Be Light and Only Light

    It has been three months since I said farewell to social media, sans a quick break to introduce our daughter to you.

    Those three months-they have been enough. They have been enough to show me that I need more, which by writing you in simple words sounds selfish.

    We want God to speak to us, so we become quiet. We wait until we hear whatever words we are supposed to hear. Sometimes those words are revealed quickly; often, they are shown to us letter by letter. And other times, the thing we hear is that we are to remain listening.

    I returned to one of my favorite reads recently, Echoing Silence, by Merton. In this collection of letters and pages from his journals and books (collected and published posthumously), he walks through the tension of writing, his spirituality, suffering, ego, and vocation. Two passages in particular struck me:

    “If the inspiration is helpless without a correspondingly effective technique, technique is barren without inspiration.” (October 24, 1958)

    …and

    “The best thing for me is a lucid silence that does not even imagine it speaks to anybody. A silence which I see no interlocutor, frame no message for anyone, formulate no word either for man or paper. There will still be plenty to say when the time comes to write, and what is written will be simpler and more fruitful.” (December 14, 1949)

    I am grateful for Merton’s removing himself from distractions and entering into a time of soul-silence. I doubt he knew or even wished that within his silence, he was communicating a message stronger than the power any written word could possibly create: an example.

    (To note: most of his writings about entering into silence were in autumn and winter; perhaps it is designed in our warm blood to hibernate for a while.)

    A scattered few friends of mine are taking brief vows of Internet silence. For some, it is the first time. For many, it won’t be the last. I have debated if these seasons of silence are a giving into self-indulgent isolation. After time and examination, please believe me that is not the case.

    During his time at the monastery in Kentucky, Merton wrote letters to friends and spiritual counselors, politicians, and artists near and far. He went to Mass, he worked alongside fellow monks, took Eucharist, and kept mostly to the hours.

    In the same manner, I tend to my private world of family and friends and community. Letters are shared between kindred spirits, encouraging one another in good works and glory. My days disappear into nights–and back again to dawn…to dusk…and so on–as I feel the grit in my spirit searching for an unfamiliar worship in the quotidian mysteries that occupy my time as of late.

    It is hard. It is good.

    I will not renounce ever returning to this space, just as Merton “refused and had practically ceased to desire” writing again, God “gave [him] back the vocation that [he] had half-consciously given up, and He opened to [him] again the doors that had fallen shut.” (1976)

    But for now, may the only message I give you be one that I cannot speak or write.

    May it be light, and only light.

    Silentium coelorum sit mihi lex: et vita mea imago luminis.
    (Let the silence of heaven be my law: and my life an image of light. – Merton, 1952)

  • Seasons

    Seasons

    Screen Shot 2016-07-01 at 7.47.54 AM
    Pregnancy has been one of the most beautiful, difficult, spiritually growing, ego-shrinking seasons. With only three weeks left, give or take, I’ve been caught in the tension of grief – missing the secret kicks and rolls – and of anticipation, waiting to meet this baby and put it to my chest, to see Tim hold this fatty blob of wrinkles and cries. I’m also looking forward to being able to get out of bed without the effort of a crane helping me.

    All this to say, in the recent quiet moments of introspection, my heart needs rest and reconnection to my own Father. It’s been too easy for me to spend insomnia-filled nights on digital rabbit trails and now, like eating too many cupcakes, I am stuffed with emotions my own insecurities let in and thinking, “Oh, no. That was way too much,” Slightly regretful yet with the knowledge that it’s temporary and I need to put the cupcakes down.

    This year, I took a speaking hiatus for most of the time, and now the quiet, small voice has been telling me to leave much of the Internet alone for a bit. I don’t know how long, and we will post when our child enters this glorious world because he or she is a part of your prayers and we are ever-so-thankful that you have walked the roads of loss and celebration with us. Until then, and probably after then, too, I will be off of social media and writing online. Just in case you wonder.


    Until next time, much love~
    Anne

  • A Free Advent Devotional for the Hard and Holy Holidays

    Growing up, I didn’t know much about Advent.

    Christmas cantatas, yes.

    Live nativity scenes, yes.

    Advent…not so much.

    A few years ago, after I began attending St. Bartholomew’s in Nashville, Advent really took a hold on my heart: a time to prepare and reflect upon the coming Christ, his birth, death and resurrection, the narrative of Mary and Joseph, angels, dirt, mundane, pain, rejoicing.

    Over time, I’ve written a few blog posts inspired by the season or on Christmas in general. Because as mystical and ponderous Advent is, the holiday season is hard for many people–myself included.

    Family and travel and money and parties and finals and bad weather and schedules and so…many…things that distract and hurt and delight and remind us of a broken world, not a healed one.

    We yearn for hope.

    Last year, I compiled a month-full of Advent writings and made a little eBook.

    It’s free. 

    Just head over to Noisetrade and download it. 

    Please share it with your friends, your family.

    Study it by yourself or with a group of people.

    Print off a million copies of it and give it to anyone you think could find it helpful.

    It’s yours.

    It’s my prayer that by taking just a couple of minutes each day as we approach Christmas to stop and breathe and pray and hope and to know we aren’t alone in this hard and holy season, we can live vulnerably in the dualities of joy and sadness and pain and peace.

    Those tensions have been lived and wrestled in since the beginning of time but in this season we know the most beautiful moment is in our rest.

    And we can rest and know we are loved and can love, we can rest in knowing hope and holiness, and we can rest knowing our Savior has come (and is here, now).

    O’ come let us adore Him!

  • Living Life with Hands Open

    It’s been a whirlwind year…

    We bought a house in Nashville, not knowing we’d be moving to Lubbock six weeks later.

    We moved to Lubbock, where Tim took the job of Student Pastor at Turning Point Community Church.

    We found ourselves on a reality show on FYI, “My City’s Just Not That Into Me” which ended up being really ironic in hindsight.

    We met a million lovely people in West Texas and got our fix of Friday Night Lights.

    We got to be parents, if only for a short time.

    We had two miscarriages.

    I had surgery.

    My next book is turned in and I’m excited for it’s release next year (5 Things Every Parent Needs to Know about Their Kids & Sex)

    Tim resigned from his position in Lubbock.

    We took our first vacation!

    Our house in Nashville sold in four days! (Thank you for your prayers!)

    Tim accepted a position in Peosta, IA (near Dubuque) as the Pastor to Students and Families at CrossRoads Church.

    We will be moving to Dubuque in just one short month! We would greatly appreciate your prayers that our house in Lubbock sells soon.

    When you live with your hands open and you are obedient, life gets unpredictable but the story gets more complex and wonderful. His thoughts are higher than ours. His ways our higher than ours. And He is ALWAYS faithful!

  • Walking with Your Spouse through Uncertainty

    I got the honor of writing over on MarriageRoots.com today about walking with your spouse in uncertain times. We are in that season now. I hope you are blessed by the words and how God is always, always, always working (even when it seems quiet).


     

    Our relationship started wrapped in mystery; I was doing a research paper debunking the science behind online dating and came across his profile. He lived five hours away, but he was cute and his picture was clearly of him on a mission trip. That’s the Western Christian Girl’s aphrodisiac. A quick message sent, followed by emails and late-night phone calls.

    Walking with Your Spouse Through Uncertainty

    I was wondering. Should we meet?

    It was like You’ve Got Mail but without AOL and dial-up Internet.

    One day a month later, we met face to face. I disguised my nervousness behind half a Xanax and some gold-rimmed aviators. If Tim was nervous, he covered it up in romantic gestures. How do two thirty-two year olds “date?” It was like high school but much more awkward. Much more…uncertain.

    I do not do well with uncertainty, so a whole two hours after we met, as we got in his car to drive to dinner, I blurted, “Is it just me, or are we clicking? I just need to know.”

    Give it to me straight, buddy. I don’t have time to waste worrying. Tim looked surprised, then confused, then happy. “Of course we’re clicking.”

    Certainty. Sigh of relief.

    We got married six months later.

    When you take two people who lead relatively uncommon lives (both work-from-home/self-employed entrepreneurs in the faith and arts), uncertainty easily turns to combustible chaos when combined. I followed Tim around the world as he captured videos for NGOs, Tim followed me around the US selling my books at events where I was speaking.

    Last summer, our travel schedules collided: Tim would be in Nepal while I spoke at a conference in St. Louis. A week apart was no big deal, but the work God did in Tim’s life while he was in Nepal was life changing. We both arrived back to our newly purchased home in Nashville and Tim said, “I want to put down the camera and just minister to people.” He uploaded his resume to be a youth pastor and sold a decade’s worth of videography equipment. We thought it would take a year, maybe two, to see where God wanted us. Until then, we would wait.

    Uncertainty.

    I went on walks praying for God to give me a sign. Show me a license plate with a different state and that’s where we’ll move! I looked for hidden meanings in songs. Tim and I played rock-paper-scissors with churches who were interested in him candidating. Alabama? Arizona? Texas?

    Texas. Not even three months after Tim returned from Nepal, we chose Texas. All the puzzle pieces fit together. We could afford it. It was near where I grew up, close to my family. A young church with passionate people (and free coffee for staff families on Sunday mornings) offered him the role of a youth pastor. Perfection.

    And it was bliss. Total bliss. West Texas sunsets. Friday night lights and thirty or so teens and families that we fell in love with.

    Until…uncertainty.

    Differences in leadership values, theological misalignments, structural conflict. Was this a season of perseverance or were we out of place?…

    [[CONTINUE READING HERE…]]