Posted by Tagged with evolving faith, parenting, parenting teens Posted in Uncategorized

When one sentence changes everything

How can one sentence change the course of a life? How can one sentence change how you see a person?
How can one sentence change how you see the world?

The time I’ve been thinking about when a sentence changed everything was when my oldest child was 14. We were driving in the car and had just arrived home from a church event. There was a long silence, and then Ellie said, “Mom, I need to tell you something.” I took a deep breath because it seemed like it was something big, but I couldn’t imagine what? Then Ellie said in a barely audible voice,

“I don’t believe in God. I’m not a Christian.”

This was after a time of worship where Ellie was singing, with eyes closed and arms raised. I said “Well, why were you worshipping like you were tonight?” To that, Ellie replied, “I didn’t want to hurt you. I was pretending.”
Ellie has always known that my faith is very important and I assumed that all my kids would follow me down the same road of beliefs. Much later, Ellie told me they had felt this way for 3 years and felt pained to go to church and “fake it” and that’s why they decided to sign up to work in the nursery so they wouldn’t have to listen to the sermons.
I was in complete shock.
What now?

In the days that followed, a neighbor told me about the Liturgists podcast. The early episodes feature a worship leader and a Sunday school teacher who talk about their complete loss of faith, while continuing to lead worship and teach on Sunday mornings, unbeknownst to their family and church members.

I started to look around in my church and wonder if there were others who were “faking it”. How many people in the room had doubts that this whole Christian/God thing was real? How many people were there to please their friends and loved ones or out of habit, but in their heart of hearts, didn’t buy it.

I started reading books by authors who had went through faith deconstruction and disillusionment. I started to have my own doubts. Instead of seeing the good in the church, I started seeing everything that was wrong. I didn’t feel like reading the Bible anymore and prayer felt empty. This went on for several years. I read a book called The Critical Journey about the stages of faith and realized I was going through something called “the wall”. There was no way around it. I was just going to be there for awhile. I started meeting with a mature spiritual friend who listened and helped me walk through where I was at. We have met monthly for the last 4 years. I’ve begun to see that asking questions is an important part of a maturing faith. It is normal and should be embraced instead of feared. Now, when someone tells me they have been hurt by the church or don’t understand the faith of their child or teen years anymore, I don’t feel surprised or worried like I once would have. I am actually drawn to people with doubts because they tend to be more authentic and tell you the whole truth.

Am I back to “loving church” again? Yes, but in a very different way. I assume the best from people, while all the while, expecting that they will disappoint me. I don’t look to Sunday mornings as the centerpiece of my life, but a small part of the whole. I do not see church as a building and I don’t see it as a small group of people. It is wider than that and extends beyond the small minded barriers we construct in our tiny human brains. I have more questions than answers and nothing seems impossible to consider. I do love Jesus and He is my model for loving others. I find myself praying again and looking forward to doing life with God’s people in whatever setting that may be. Around a table, at the piano, on a hike, or in a time of prayer or conversation. I see God’s people as those who have accepted His gifts and those who have not. God created all and includes all at the table. No exceptions.

The sentence spoken by my firstborn 5 years ago has taken me on quite a trip and I’m better for it. Thanks Ellie, for your honesty. Love you tons!




Posted by Tagged with Racism, social justice Posted in Uncategorized

Anniversary of George Floyd’s Murder

As I pause today to remember George Floyd and his family, I also pause to consider how his murder has changed me.

I didn’t grieve for Philando Castillo or the other innocent victims who were killed before him.

I didn’t grieve the treatment of slaves, and the killing of black bodies throughout history.

I didn’t know that thirty-eight Dakota men were hung from a gallows in Mankato, MN in 1862. Their deaths scarred generations of native people and cemented Minnesota as home to the largest mass execution in U.S. history.

I didn’t learn until recently about the mistreatment of indigenous children taken from their parents and forced to attend “assimilation schools” where they were instructed to abandon their way of life which was thought inferior to the ways of white people.

I didn’t know about Mary Turner, an 18 year old pregnant black woman who was tied upside down from a tree and burned to death for questioning her innocent husband’s death. Her unborn baby was cut from her body and trampled. Her story, as shocking as it is, is only one of thousands of stories of the torturing of black bodies in the U.S. Most of the white men who committed these crimes were let free and continue to be let free.

I didn’t grieve the unjust systems throughout our history that put people in categories and burned down black neighborhoods, including the Greenwood neighborhood of Tulsa, OK, where over 300 African Americans were murdered in 2 days. At the order of the Oklahoma government and National guard, more than 6,000 black citizens were arrested. Not one White person was arrested. The looting and rioting that happened following George Floyd’s death was built on generations upon generations of anger over the wrongs of the past.

I was blinded to my own racist thoughts and tendencies. I was lost in a sea of “nice white people”.

Until last summer. George Floyd’s death was a wake up call.

I am not the same. Nothing is the same.
I can no longer ignore the racism all around me. Some say we’ve come a long way, but for me, I’m just beginning.

Lament and repentance is the first step to change. Forgiveness and healing cannot begin until we all become more aware of the historical roots of the problem and acknowledge the harm caused. As I have begun to dig a little and learn about the black and indigenous history in this country that many like to white wash and cover up, doing nothing and saying nothing is no longer an option.

In Latasha Morrison’s book Be the Bridge – Pursuing God’s Heart for Racial Reconciliation, she writes, “Have you ever been afraid of someone just because of the color of his or her skin? If you have, whether you’re white, black, or brown, you have confession work to do”. I have realized that I fear what I do not know. And I believe what I have been told. I was told that the city is a dangerous place and that the most dangerous neighborhoods are filled with people who are not white. I believed this stereotype.

I am sorry for my silence. I will use my voice and privilege to bring about change along with the incredible generation of truth tellers and justice seekers that come behind me – my children. It often feels they are leading me as I try to catch up.

Black Lives Matter.
They always have, but now I’m finally seeing why.

Posted by Tagged with Racism, social justice Posted in Uncategorized

How Do We Love the Poor?

Yesterday I went to Cross of Glory Lutheran Church in Brooklyn Center to volunteer, sorting and distributing food and supplies to those in crisis living in the neighborhood around the church. About 100 people were served in the 3 hours I was there. About 100 more were still in line when I left. They waited in the rain for their number to be called. Once they got into the church, they were given a shopping cart and allowed 1-2 items from each table. The tables included canned goods, boxed food, produce, toiletries, toilet paper, bottled water, and diapers.
The pastor explained to me that they were asked by CAPI (a food shelf across the street) to host the giveaway, after the death of Duante Wright. It was not something the church was looking for. The invitation to help came in a time of crisis. However, the church now sees the neighbors with needs are not going away.

A crisis helps us to become aware of a need that was there all along.

I was surprised when I asked on my Facebook friends for recommendations of organizations that were actively reaching the Brooklyn Center Community. I received word of over a dozen individuals or groups who were on the ground serving there. I know that is only a snapshot of what was actually happening.
The day I volunteered, the church and CAPI received donations from people driving over 30 minutes to bring their car loads food, diapers, toilet paper, and hygiene products. One woman owned a coffee shop in Mpls and collected donations from her customers. Another worked for a company that collected donations from their co-workers. A few of the donors were white haired, “nice Lutherans” who were so eager to deliver their contributions.
It was wonderful to see all the people, many from the suburbs, all of a sudden appearing ready to help, but it made me wonder – why now?

The crisis woke us up to a need that has always been there. The poor have always been among us.


I went home after my day of volunteering to my warm house, a hot meal, and my comfy couch. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the people standing in line in the rain, waiting for food and diapers.

When I say poor, I’m talking about those who are not sure if they will have a roof over their head tonight or food to eat for their next meal. I also speak of those who feel buried by the rubble of their past. Those who have been born as children of poverty and can’t get out of the cycle they are in. It is incredibly complicated. If it was easy, our world would have figured out a way to eliminate poverty by now.

I opened up the Bible on my phone and typed in the word “poor” in the search. Here are a few verses that jumped out at me.

Proverbs 21:13 NIV
13 Whoever shuts their ears to the cry of the poor will also cry out and not be answered.

Psalm 70:5 NIV
5 But as for me, I am poor and needy; come quickly to me, O God. You are my help and my deliverer; LORD, do not delay.

Psalm 82:3 NIV
3 Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed

Proverbs 29:7 NIV
7 The righteous care about justice for the poor, but the wicked have no such concern

Matthew 19:21 NIV
21 Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.

Luke 14:13 NIV
13 But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind

These are just a few of the verses in the Bible asking for a response in caring for the poor. There are over 160 more if you want to read them yourself.

If loving the poor is stressed so much in the Bible, why do most Christians that I know, myself included, put this into a side category of our lives? When I look for people who are already doing the work, I notice they rarely talk about it or ask for help. They are too busy working and are consumed by the needs in front of them.

Maybe you are one of those who are already giving sacrificially to serve the poor. I would love to hear from you what your greatest needs are.

I want to be moved to action daily, and not just in times of crisis. Poverty is not going away. I’m thankful for “wake up calls” that remind us not to ignore the needs around us.

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The Way to Love

In a time of political division and cancel culture

Some people are only pleased if you tell them what they want to hear. Most people are just looking for others to validate what they already know and think. We gravitate towards certain news sources that say things in ways we agree with. The Internet knows this and suggest the sources that we should read past in past clicks and likes. We gravitate toward those who are most like us. We don’t challenge ourselves to question whether our way of thinking could be flawed or incomplete.

As a people pleaser who has close family and friends on both sides of the political aisle, I have become accustomed to silently listening to people “go off!” I hear the arrogance on both sides and wonder if they realize how ridiculous they sound.

I’ve heard all of these statements in one week.

“Those Liberals are the problem!”
“When _________is out of office, we can get back to normal”
“ (leader or politician) is an idiot!” “Black lives matter!”
“Blue lives matter!”
“All lives matter!”
“He should have known better than to run from the cops”
“There’s no such thing as a good cop”
“I support all police officers and the military no matter what”.
“I’m moving to Canada!”

I don’t speak up much and through all this quiet listening I’ve realized –
1. There are very loving and well meaning individuals who are both conservative and liberal.
2. The extremes on both sides seem unwilling to listen and quickly decide that those with different opinions are idiots, heathens, or wackos.
3. People are angry. We say crazy things when we are upset.
4. Most people never take the time to question their own way of thinking and change their opinions or admit that their comments may be triggering to others who live different lives or have different experiences than them.

How did this divide happen and what can we do about it?

Can we confess when we run too quickly away from conflict or think that we have all the answers?

Can we speak up when we see hate being spewed on others, and stand up for those with less privilege?

Can we allow others to be angry, while at the same time, looking behind the anger, and asking “why?”

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Lord, have mercy

Following the shooting of Daunte Wright.

Today a fresh wave of pain and unrest blanketed Minneapolis after the shooting of 18 year old Daunte Wright. It is yet another day when black men will ask themselves “Am I safe? Will this happen to me?” Another day when mothers of black sons wonder if the next one to be killed will be their son.

I often hear people debating in times like this whether the officer was to blame or whether the victim was “a criminal” and was deserving of their fate. Many respond with “I need to see the video or get all the facts before I can form an opinion. I need to know more about the person who was shot before I know how bad I should feel about it.” I personally believe that no one deserves to die, no matter who they are or what they have done. Nobody deserves to be killed.

This is my prayer today.

I feel so grieved right now.
I see the mix of fear, anger, and weariness that the black community is experiencing.
I see the protesters and mourners, flooding the streets, and imagine you, Jesus, standing among them.
Why am I so quick to form an opinion based on human sources? Why not go to you, my heavenly source? Why do I care more about the safety of my property that is here today and gone tomorrow than for the cries of the unheard?

I open my ears to listen and my mouth to admit when I’ve been wrong, prideful, and ignorant. Throughout my life, I have knowingly and unknowingly upheld white supremacy and put people into categories based on the color of their skin. I admit that I have not been willing to step outside of my comfortable fence and beyond my white neighborhood and white friends. I admit that I have been unwilling to change and daily feel the “need to be right”.
Teach me to live alongside people that don’t look like me, talk like me, or think like me. This includes those who I don’t understand. This includes your beautiful creations who are queer, non-binary, and transgender. This includes those whose hearts are full of hate. This includes EVERYONE WITH A HEARTBEAT.


Your love for ALL is wider and deeper than we can ever imagine, but help me to know a taste of it, so that this love can overflow to others.

I grieve alongside the black community today. I don’t pretend to understand, but I do feel the weight of their accumulated losses. Jesus, wrap your arms around them right now and bring justice and healing. Correct me, soften my heart, and if I can be a part of bringing people together to do the hard work of healing reconciliation, I say yes.




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The Gravy Years

My friend Annette, who has 4 grown adult children, calls the years of elementary school “the gravy years”. These are the years when parents are through the potty training and sleep deprived infant and toddler stage and before puberty and teen drama arrive.

My husband and I are enjoying “the gravy years” now with our 7 and 10 year olds. We had our first two kids, now 17 and 19, when we were newly married. The first time around, I don’t think we fully appreciated those years. I spent most of my time worrying about whether I was doing things wrong and comparing myself to an unachievable ideal in my mind. I didn’t realize what I had when I had it, how fast those years would go by, and how much I would miss them when they were gone.

Our older kids back when they were “the littles”


There are some great things about having teenagers too, and I’m sure I will miss these years as well someday, but there is just something about witnessing the elementary years a second time around.

Here’s what I love about these “gravy years”.

1. We tuck the kids into bed each night with snuggle time, reading, and telling stories about the day. It’s nice to know they will sleep through the night (more than they used to)

2. They aren’t embarrassed to be around us parents and they enjoy time with family.

3. Travel is much easier than when they were little. We can hop in the car and drive a few hours without complaint. There are less stops and booster seats are so much easier than infant seats.

4. We know their friends and their friends’ parents. They are home before 9pm and we always know where they are and who they are with.

5.. We can eat in a restaurant again without a highchair.

6. No more diaper bag!

7. The kids can stay with Grandparents or a babysitter so that mom and dad can have date nights and an occasional getaway!

What are your favorite things about the elementary years?

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Spoiled Supper with a Sweet Child O’ Mine

Today I planned out my day perfectly to get everything done. I had a haircut, chiropractor appointment, stop at the grocery store, and then the exact amount of time to make a pan of lasagne before leaving to teach piano lessons. I assembled the lasagne and went to put it in the fridge. My hand slipped and the lasagne toppled to the floor.

In that moment I was so angry. I swore repeatedly and then carried on in such a way that brought Mark and the two older girls to the kitchen to see what in God’s name happened!

Mark told me he would clean it up and then I went into the living room and sat in my favorite chair and cried and cried. That was when I realized, “This is about more than a pan of lasagne”. I asked myself what was going on and realized that “It’s ok to not be ok” and “it’s ok to not do everything perfectly”.
I didn’t have time to sit and cry any longer, I had 20 minutes to prep for the day’s lessons. One of my teenage students had asked to play “Sweet Child O Mine” by Guns and Roses. Since I grew up on a singular dose of Christian music, I had no idea how the song went, so I had to get myself caught up. I started playing, and of course my DJ, music loving husband comes running in and says “Is that Sweet Child O Mine?”

He proceeded to ask me if I’d listened to the lyrics. I had not. He said, “I think this is God’s message for you right now. This song is for you.” It was true and I cried a little more and then went off to lessons and told my student about the connection between a pan of dropped lasagne and his song and he looked at me with a polite, but confused look, and then we carried on with the lesson

It’s funny how life catches up with you in strange ways like dropping a pan of lasagne. I thought I was “fine” and then that simple event made me realize I’m not “fine”.

After a conversation with a wise counselor tonight, I’ve realized that there are a few changes I need to make.


#1. I am no longer going to put pressure on myself to make meals ahead of time for my family on weeknights when I’m teaching.
#2. It’s time to go get some therapy to talk through what’s been bothering me.
#3. It’s ok to not do things with my own family the way my family growing up did them.

And probably my favorite lesson of all is – Jesus can speak through anything and anyone – even Guns and Roses!

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Rest is my favorite 4 letter word.

Have you ever gotten some news that felt like being run over by a truck because you didn’t see it coming? Maybe you found out someone you loved had cancer or another life-threatening illness. Maybe you discovered someone was lying to you and keeping a secret? Do you remember a day you lost your job or your house? Did you have a miscarriage or another sudden loss.

We can all pinpoint these moments when life surprises us in the worst of ways. These surprises can cause us to question God.
When life throws you a curve ball, you can respond in many ways. Anger, fear, confusion, sadness. But, can I just say that sometimes the best response is:

Go take a nap.

Today I slept very hard for a long time, and I woke up feeling like a new person.

Rest is not a cop out. It’s not a weak response. Rest is what we need.

Even if you are not dealing with bad news or going through a crisis, rest is what you need. God commands that we rest every seven days. He calls it the sabbath. So many times, Christians use their day of rest to rush about “serving” and “worshipping together” but not really resting. What can you do to truly Rest today?

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You Are a Gift to the World

This week I decided that the cold couldn’t stop me from a daily walk. I discovered snow pants and a scarf that covered my whole face (game changer!) Walking is by far my most important daily rhythm

Walking is when I make sense of life. As I walk, my body and mind begin to click and after about 20 minutes, my scattered and frustrated thoughts begin to shift. The things that don’t matter float to the background and the things that do matter float to the front of my mind. Walking is prayer for me. Sometimes I talk to God while I walk and other times I don’t. Sometimes I sing, sometimes I worry and wonder about people in my life, and sometimes I just think about how cold it is and how I wish I could be on the beach.

After too much time inside endlessly scrolling through Facebook and playing never ending games of Words With Friends; a walk in the cold has been like a slap in the face to wake me out my lethargy. A lethargy from a lack of human connection. The kind of lack that you know is there, but isn’t bad enough for you to actually reach out and do something about it.

I expect some of you have had a long winter. The last few weeks of below zero temps have pushed us into a dark basement of the winter blues. With a loss of our usual social routines in Minnesota that get us through winter like potluck soup suppers, and bowling nights, birthday parties, retreats, chili cook-offs, theater performances, and recitals, we are left to an endless string of nights of Netflix and days of managing our emotions and the emotions of those who lean on us for support.

On my last walk this week, I had a very clear thought that I want to share with you, dear reader. It was so clear, it was almost like a voice from heaven delivered it. The voice said –

“You are a gift to the world”

I believe this is true but it seems a bit cliche. A bit like something on a quote board. So as I pushed back on it a bit knowing that most would be cynical about such a statement. I heard God say “No. YOU ARE a GIFT To the World….Period.” No question mark, no conditions, no exceptions. Every single person ever created is a gift to the world. Whether they see it or not and whether other people recognize it or not.

Would you do something weird for me for just a second?

Would you go to a mirror (or pull up your phone selfie camera) and look at yourself and say OUT LOUD, “I am a gift to the world”. Ok. Now say it again. “I am a gift to the word.” How does that feel? Do you question it as you say it? Do you add a BUT…..after the statement? I’m actually serious. Go to a mirror and say out loud “I AM A GIFT TO THE WORLD”

It’s ok if you don’t feel like a gift to the world right now. I get it. But, it doesn’t make it any less true.
What I’ve been realizing is how many people are “Gifts” to me and they probably don’t even know it. I walk through my days and rarely let people know what they mean to me. How would our days look and feel differently if we approached each person we have contact with as a gift. What if we told even one person a day what a gift they are to us?

We don’t need to wait for a holiday to tell others they matter. I hope it will become a daily habit, like walking. At times, speaking words of life to someone will feel forced and awkward (like bundling up and facing an icy wind in negative temps) and other times it will flow naturally and be received with tears of joy and life altering results.
Never under estimate a positive word given. Just keep at it.

Proverbs 25:11 – A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.


Posted by Tagged with dreaming, Marriage, travel Posted in Uncategorized

Dream Louder

I heard this expression “Dream Louder” in a song written by Vanessa Gamble in the incredible musical about marriage called Til Death. In the musical, two couples find themselves stuck in the same cabin during a snowstorm. One pair is a couple of quirky young lovebirds on their honeymoon and the other, a married couple on the verge of possible separation. The older couple realize among many things that they have forgotten who they are and how to dream. Dream louder is a call to rediscovering those dreams and calling them out.

This idea rings true to me as I have spent the last 18 years pouring my energy into my kids and have neglected to recognize my dreams for self beyond motherhood. I have also neglected my marriage for seasons and have myself felt neglected.

As our 20th wedding anniversary approached this year, Mark and I began dreaming of taking a trip to reignite our love for each other and remember who we are and where we are going as a couple and as individuals.


We chose Punta Cana, Dominican Republic, as our destination and went to work getting passports and booking a resort. It felt too good to be true. As the count down to the trip got closer and Covid loomed on, I wondered if it would happen.
We drove our kids to Grandparents house, bought sunhats, and packed a combination purchased and borrowed dress up clothes and beachwear for seven days in paradise.


It actually happened. Now I’m home and it feels like waking up from the very best dream I’ve ever had. What a wonderful week in the sun it was. I feel incredibly spoiled and take none of it for granted. Waiting 20 years to go on the honeymoon I always wish I’d had made it even sweeter.

We all need to give ourselves permission to dream. What you dream for, only you may understand. It may not be a trip. It may be something else. Your dreams may change. Whatever you are dreaming, dream louder.

If you are interested in the song Dream Louder and the musical Til Death, you can find out more here.

‘Til Death