i wanna dance with somebody

remember when big weddings were a thing?

remember when bodies used to cram together on the dance floor and everyone would sing/scream journey’s “don’t stop believing" or--my personal favorite--queen's "dancing queen?" remember when we used to hug and kiss our way across a room packed full of our very dearest loved ones?

we do. we remember it. 
and we miss it. 
all of us.

and i have a feeling that’s got a lot to do with the frustration, anger and unrest in our country today. we miss what we had. we miss what we used to know. we miss our old-normal. 

we miss the gift of embracing without exploding into worry.

 click on video link ——> emily and rick busting a move! 

doesn’t matter where we fall in our heated debates and discussions, we all line up on this point—we are desperately longing for that which we used to take sorely for granted. 

we miss being close to others.

we miss the feeling of wrapping our sweaty arms around our family and friends and singing sloppily at the top of our lungs while swaying to billy joel or billy idol or billy anyone.

those days are gone. and i know a lot of us are grieving. we don’t even have to be the huggy-touchy types to feel that void deeply. it has altered all of us.

how could it not?

touch is healing. in the mid-1990s  harvard neurobiologist, mary carlson, and her husband, felton earls, a harvard psychiatrist, travelled to the orphanages of romania to study the serious issue of touch deprivation taking place. it was their research which opened eyes to the power of touch. they found these children had greatly altered cortisol levels (the main hormone which helps us deal with stress) and were dramatically behind in all areas of normal development. their research unearthed heartbreaking results from children piled into rooms with unbelievably negligent caregiver ratios.

when bella was little she sometimes would climb in bed with us. throughout the night i often felt her arms reaching for me. it sometimes happened all night long.  she would reach over and pat my arm. after noticing this for months, it finally occurred to me that was part of her self-comforting. though nothing like the romanian orphanages, bella spent 2 and 1/2 years in one of the largest orphanages in china with a high rate of disability and special needs. i know in many ways she was well cared for, but i also know that she couldn't possibly have been cuddled and loved enough.  when we visited we saw how they placed beds side by side. there were bars separating the beds, but my guess is that she had a buddy lying in that crib attached to hers and, even as babies, they probably reached for each other throughout the night. of course that happened. it is how we are made. to reach for each other. to touch. to connect. to comfort. 

and this doesn't just apply to children in orphanages, it is true for all of us. in 2018 the university of berkley published an article discussing the importance of touch on people of all ages. dr. tiffany fields writes that with massage or even normal hugging “there’s an increase in serotonin, which is the body’s natural antidepressant and anti-pain chemical.” 

in the area of touch research—a real thing—it is common knowledge that physical touch is the first sense to develop in infants and remains the most powerful throughout a human’s life. 

it is powerful. it is life-giving. it is necessary.

and, yet, here we are living in a world which advertises  "touch-free" this or "contact-free" that. i am seeing the signs everywhere i go. it is a world we couldn’t have imagined just 6 months ago--a socially distant world full of masked men and women scurrying around and suspect of all things touching. and it stinks. for all of us. 

the wide berths we take with our shopping carts.

the quick trips to target for only our absolute essentials.

the beady eyes above masks watching each other, but not able to truly communicate. i know i spend my time looking away. i don't want to stare, or even glance, into eyes which aren't attached to mouths. i can't read them and it, honestly, makes me kind of uncomfortable. i know i'm not alone. it is making us all, pardon the pun, kind of touchy.

i can’t stand it when i am unable to smile at the grocery store cashier letting her know i appreciate her help. recently, i had a funny exchange with one of the grocery baggers. he said something to me through his mask and i tried to reply and neither of us could understand each other and so we just both cracked up. what are we to do? this strange social experiment has definitely shown us how dependent we are on those little smiles and brief human intersections. i may not talk to everyone i meet on the street, but i am definitely a person who at least likes to nod and smile at most.

and, not to be overly dramatic, but i feel like that has been taken from me. stripped away from my social persona and i miss it. 

that’s just the day to day stuff, right?

but then we have the big events. like weddings. 

last night i woke up with crazy wedding dreams. with brooke and tyler’s wedding just days away and emily and austin’s 2 year anniversary yesterday, i definitely have wedding-brain going on. i don’t remember all the dream details, but it was some crazy kind of combination of both weddings and, of course, i was trying to put masks on everyone. 

i posted this video [ emily and rick busting a move! ]  in celebration of emily and austin’s two year anniversary yesterday and i probably watched it 12 times. it made me laugh, but i also kind of wanted to cry. oh goodness, how i want that kind of abandon next weekend for my son and his new bride, brooke. (by the way, she’s in the background of that video). 

i desperately want that.

i want that for all of us in our big weddings and in our small days.

i know you want it in your world too.

this post isn’t answering any of the questions about when that will happen or if large, wild weddings will ever again take place. unfortunately, i have no answers. 

but maybe it is a reminder to hug and hold close those we can. and maybe it’s an encouragement to see the gifts we take for granted and try to appreciate them more. 

maybe it’s just a post to say, i get it. i feel the sadness too. 

i don’t know. 

but distanced as we might be, dear world, we are clearly in this thing together. 

maybe we can’t hold each other close on the wedding dance floor, but we can dance in our kitchens and we can dance along the ocean and we can dance in our driveways and backyards and in the bedrooms of our children. and, best yet, someday, we will dance on streets of gold with Jesus. and based on how things are going lately in our crazy world, that sure seems more sooner than later! 

"there is a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and time to gather them, 
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing." - ecclesiastes 3

"you have turned my mourning into dancing." psalm 30:11

when plans change

“the heart of a man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” proverbs 16:9

if we’re honest, most of us don’t necessarily get all excited about that verse. i'll admit, i’m a girl who likes to “plan her way.” let me be clear—her own way. i like to have a plan and i like my plan to work. just the way i want it. just the way i imagined it. the way i dreamed it. the way i designed it. like frank sinatra crooned, "i'll do it my way." thank you very much.

and, what’s more, i like to think i know what’s best for me. even though i’ve been proven wrong too many times to count, i still have something stubborn within which just can’t help but think i’ve got it all figured out.

this "large and in charge" mindset is quite a popular notion in today’s world: command your destiny. plot your course. grab life by the throat. go for the gusto. take the wheel in your hands. and, by all means, just do it!

and some of that is good. in fact, some of it sounds really great and inspiring and motivating. personally, i kind of like those bumpersticker-ish sayings. but what happens with those popular words when things fall apart. what happens when we find circumstances actually out of our control. what happens when we get rain on our parade or a devastating diagnosis or heart-breaking bad news. what happens when someone lets us down or lets us go. what happens when things don’t line up and the pieces don’t fall in and the door slams shut on our dreams. what happens when we find ourselves in a global pandemic and celebrations must cease and everything good and fun feels cancelled. 

what are we left with then? 

what happens when we can’t “just do it?”

the lovely young woman who is going to marry my son in exactly two weeks used that proverbs 16 verse at the top of her “change of plans” announcement. though they had hoped for an august 8th wedding which would include all the people they so dearly love, as july progressed, it became clear they would need to dramatically dial-back their dreams. like many brides across america this year, they had to un-invite over a hundred plus people. had we ever even heard of such a thing before 2020? 

the good news is they will get married this august! it will look different with only their wedding party and immediate families in attendance, but i have no doubt it will be a beautiful, not to mention, intimate day. they have postponed their big reception to august 2021 and hope to celebrate with everyone on their one year anniversary.

we couldn’t be more proud of brooke and tyler for making this decision. selfishly, i wished the big wedding could have happened. i am not only a woman who likes a plan, but as most of you know, i also like a big party. i love to gather with friends and family and i was really looking forward to this beautiful event overlooking lake minnetonka. as they were planning their wedding in late spring, we were all hopeful that by august an outdoor wedding could take place. so we went on dreaming and planning and plotting our way … but the Lord, well, He established our steps.

like most of america, we had to change the plan. we had to pivot. we had to postpone. we had put away the dreams we all had for this much prayed for day. 

and of course there was some disappointment. that is certainly not unique to brooke and tyler’s situation. people are making sacrifices all over the world. some of them small in scale and some of them absolutely massive and heart breaking. it’s easy to be disappointed and even angry. but, dear ones, Jesus is not a dream crusher. He’s not. not one bit. it might feel like that at times in our lives when our plans to proceed fail or our expectations fall flat. it’s hard to understand that His way is better than our way. everything in our human nature wants to fight this kind of spiritual surrender. it is a constant battle in my own life.

“for my thoughts are not your thoughts,

 neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.” -  isaiah 55:8

but, is it so inconceivable to think that the One who formed us from earth’s dust and fashioned us fearfully and wonderfully is not fully in control? is it entirely inconceivable to trust that the One who hung the stars and measured the oceans has a better plan for our lives? that the very One who created the whole world and holds the whole world in His hands knows better? even when disappointment takes hold? even when devastation occurs? even when the diagnosis is told? is that so impossible to believe? 

some days, yes, it does feel hard to accept. it feels like He isn’t there. like He isn’t listening closely. like He doesn’t care deeply. like our dreams don’t matter really.

but He—the very One who dreamed up the world—He cares for our dreams. He even desires for us to dream. “now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine … to Him be the glory,  forever and ever! amen.” ephesians 3:20-21

it's true, our dreams for ourselves are not always His dreams for us.

like how it is with parents and children. you know when that child at a carnival dreams only of pink, cotton candy and a parent says no. it doesn't make one bit of sense to that little guy who only wanted pink, cotton candy.

but like that parent, our Father in heaven wants to give us something more than pink, cotton candy.

when our five were little they would sometimes share their little kid dreams. dreams like a trip to the dollar store or a chocolate ice cream cone after dinner or a late summer night of firefly catching. all good things. all good dreams, but in scale, small. little kid dreams. they didn’t know how to dream bolder. they had yet to learn all that our big and beautiful world could offer. our dreams for perfect events and well-planned days must sometimes seem kind of small to the One who holds the world in His hands. they must seem, in fact, like pink cotton candy wishes. and not that He doesn't care, but that He cares to give us more.

God has so much more.

habbakuk 1:5 “look at the nations and watch — and be utterly amazed. for I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told.” 

He tells us, "look and be utterly amazed!"does that sound like a miserly god who just wants to withhold from His children? God is not a dream-dasher, He is a dream-designer. He wants big things for us. not just good things, but His best things. He knows what we need before we even need it. He knows us. He created us. He sustains us.

interestingly enough, early in the year i had decided to begin reading lysa terkeurst’s book “it’s not supposed to be this way.” seriously, is that not an appropriate book for 2020 or what? lysa writes this:

“no matter how well i follow the rules, do what’s right, and seek to obey God with my whole heart, i can’t control my life. i can’t control God.

it’s hard to type those words.

because i don’t want to control God.

until i do.

when His timing seems questionable, His lack of intervention seems hurtful, and His promises seem doubtful, i get afraid. i get confused. and left alone with those feelings, i can’t help but feel disappointed that God isn’t doing what i assume a good God should do.”

i know it’s hard for us to understand. i promise, i’m right there with you, friend. right there some days wallowing in my disappointment. confused by what is happening. angry at the upheaval. sad for the missed celebrations. frustrated by the failed plans. weary of the what’s-next. wistful for the what-ifs. done with the constant debates. tired of the uncertainty.

early in july, my soon-to-be-daughter-in-law, before deciding to change her wedding plan, posted these words on instagram: 

“our mistake is that we want to compare our plan with God’s plan. we want to see them side by side and weigh the pros and cons of each. our best response, however, will always be the same as Mary’s when the angel crashed her wedding plans. “let it be to me according to your word.” luke 1:38

brooke's entire instagram post

what a blessing to be so encouraged by the darling girl who will soon marry my precious son. what a gift my son is getting. a woman, who regardless of her little girl dreams, knows she she must surrender her plans to the Lord. a woman, who before she says “i do” to tyler, is learning to say “Your will be done," to her Savior. 

i can’t think of a better plan. 

summertime and the living isn't easy

well, here we are: july first and smack-dab in the middle of summer. typically at this point our brains are busy with independence day plans. our biggest decisions—hot dogs or hamburgers? potato salad or pasta? our greatest concern—the weather, and our minds set excitedly on friends, fireworks and some good, old-fashioned fun.

mercy! when i think of what the first week in july has traditionally been i find myself in need of a deep breath and a quick place to sit down. what is going on? what has happened to life as we know it? when will our days return to normal? and, even more importantly, will normal ever fully return?

i don’t ask those questions flippantly or ignorantly. it doesn’t matter who we are, where we live, or what our take, most of us have a deep level of concern for what is going on in our world this summer.

and let’s be honest, we are as far from summertime as we could have ever imagined.

"summertime and the living is easy." i've always loved ella fitzgerald's version of gershwin's song. she recorded it in 1968, the year i was born. i love that song and i love summer. who doesn't? summer has always suggested longer days, easy living and a lighter heart. the length of day remains true, of course, but certainly the lightness of heart is at best ephemeral. it doesn’t make a bit of sense in this season of beauty. the flowers in my backyard continue to bloom, the birdsong each morning brilliant, the georgia rain always possible, the rising humidity stifling and certain, even the quiet drone of bees is consistent. all of it as beautiful and busy and normal as ever. 

except it's not.

hanging from of our car mirrors are well-worn masks dangling above victoriously acquired bottles of hand sanitizer. our phones and laptops almost daily tuned to news reports and information websites. our plans altered, our schedules more emptied, and our days often jumbled. 

some of us, like the backyard birds and bees, doing our best to move on in our self-arranged cloud of normalcy. we are trying. all of us. perhaps, at different levels and in different ways, but most of us doing our best to figure it out. at least figuring out how to breath safely … how to breath at all. 

our daughter, trying to make some money this summer for college classes, is working long hours at athleta every day.  5 to 7 hours in a mask monitoring the small number of people allowed into the store at one time. women, also in masks, spending their dollars on expensive athletic-wear trying--at least for a brief retail-therapy moment--to pretend life will go back to what we’ve always known it to be. i stopped in the other day to say hey to sarah and was struck with the paradox of normal/not-normal---masked women debating over leggings in eggplant or charcoal.

i came home heavy with it. and sitting on my porch i was hit with how--even in these frantic, frustrated times--God is so faithful in His promises. we forget that. it is easy to forget. but the birds and flowers and, yes, even our clothing … all of it carefully addressed in His Word. He cares for it all. He cares for us all. whether we are in a pandemic or in something more like paradise, He is there and He has a promise for us. even when we don’t know the next steps or the next spike or the next set of rules … He does. 

and, i don’t know about you, but the uncertainty of this particular summertime nudges me to draw closer to His perfect Word.

in Matthew 6 He tells us to “look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them. are you not much more valuable than they? can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” 

“and why do you worry about clothes? see how the flowers of the field grow. they do not labor or spin. yet i tell you that not even solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. if that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you?”

as created beings our lives look different each day. and, from all i am seeing, this isn’t going to reverse itself any time soon. as i read and listen, i realize, more and more, we don’t have the information, we don’t have the answers, we don’t really have a clue. when science and medicine and people and politicians can’t figure it out or factor it all into anything absolute, than as created beings we must see clearly our own insufficiency and bow before the All-Sufficient Creator. we must. 

i know our nature is inclined to want to be in charge and to be right and to be on top of it all. oh goodness do i ever have that same hard-wiring in me. ask my family, i love information. i love being right. i love being in the know. i love having the inside scoop or the better instinct or the best potential outcome. i constantly want to be in control of my world and my ways. i want to self-govern. i do. i do. i do. 

and i confess it. i am heartsick with it.

i can't help but believe it might benefit all of us as created beings to acknowledge more the one who created us. to acknowledge Him as omnipotent and omniscient and to bow before Him. each day. again and again. as many times as it takes to surrender our selves and our self-made securities and worrisome uncertainties to Him. 

Him—the one who continues to bring summer and each new season despite the world’s pandemic; the one who feeds the birds and clothes the flowers of the fields and cares for each one of us more than we could possibly understand at all times … especially in these times.

bow before Him.

“for the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods.

 in His hand are the depths of the earth, 

and the mountain peaks belong to Him. 

the sea is His, for He made it, 

and His hands formed the dry land.

come, let us bow down in worship,

let us kneel before the Lord our Maker.”  psalm 95

in this world which is wild in fear and spinning in futility, He is faithful. He is worthy. He is God.