Mele Kalikimaka and Merry Christmas!
What a year it has been. One of the beautiful things about a new year is the hope of what can come. I launched into this year with the invitation to HOLY BOLDNESS. I knew I needed to take some steps forward that would be uncomfortable, challenging, and reframe some mental models. I had a sense that changes were coming that I needed to prepare myself for physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. We were beginning our first full year “home again” and we were feeling settled in every way. I began 2018 with wild hope, sure commitment, and belief that this would be one of our best years ever.
Not quite. But totally.
I had a pattern interruption early in the year. I got fired from a job that mattered to me by people who I loved. It was shocking and disorienting. All the feels and the fears. One mentor said, “welcome to the club”. Another said, “congratulations”. I was reminded me that most of life is lived in the tension between pain and celebration. This pattern interruption resonated with that tension.
Getting fired catapulted me into designing a life we love.
There had long been aches and vision for something new. Dreams had been forming that I had a hard time ignoring but was too fearful to activate. Twenty years of developing and leading out other’s visions lead me to the point where I had to birth my own. One night at 3:30am when I couldn’t sleep from the grief and fear, I sat on our patio in the cold night air. Tears streamed. Questions overwhelmed. Fears bombarded my faith. And yet. Clearly I heard God speak, “It’s time. It’s time to design a life you love.” Faith removed fear’s grip and my mind was set on a new way forward.
A scarcity mentality has limited my heart for as long as I can remember. God’s been faithfully dismantling those false beliefs over the past 2 years. This year has been fertile soil to practice an abundance mentality when I didn’t know how we’d pay the bills next month. And yet. We have all we need. There’s enough for us to receive and give. We don’t need to fight for territory or work. There is more than we can possibly ask or imagine.
For most of 2018 Brian and I have been desperately dreaming, designing, and developing a life we love. Never before have we been this excited about the life we are building together for now, for our kids, and for forever. Never before have we been so freaking out on a limb. I’ve been a visionary and an activist my whole life. I’ve been entrepreneurial, but now I’m an entrepreneur. As I approach 40 years old this coming year, I can see how my whole story matters and is coming together to create a company that reflects my truest self. Twenty years of leadership and teaching is integrating in my own life more than ever and expanding out in the work of my hands. And i’m positive God’s word to us is almost always for the other (Bonhoeffer)…for you.
But it’s been hard as hell. Most of this year has been frantic, unexpected, unknown, and overly filled with ideas. (I’m a visionary, people!) Even as I practice my best self-leadership, soul care, and grieving the losses well, I’ve found myself on the verge of a few panic attacks, not exercising well, working too much, and physically manifesting stress. Finances have been the most challenging ever. And yet. God gave us 38 financial miracles over the summer alone (Pssst, stay the course!). Fear and faith continue to dance around the center of my heart as we continue designing a life we love as a family.
And yet. With each month we’re increasingly committed that birthing this vision is what I’ve been put on earth to do. Designing a life we love isn’t just for us and about us. It’s for you and about you. Each of us is offered that potential. We get to co-create with our Creator to bring the most amount of good and hope and wholeness to this world. Designing and birthing may be painful, but it’s absolutely worth it. It’s necessary. Discomfort is required. Hope is essential. Listening is the way. Action creates momentum.
Perhaps this year has held a pattern interruption for you, too?
What has it taught you? Pain and problems can propel you toward your preferred future. Or they can sink you into depression, bitterness, settling for the status quo, and despair. Interruptions are designed to wake us up to the life we must live. They help to raise our attention to where we’ve been settling and excusing crap for far too long. Interruptions alert us to a new way for the sake of the other.
As 2018 wraps up, I’ll be grateful to leave her behind. And I’m grateful for what she’s taught me. Pain can position us for powerful connection and purpose. I don’t want to waste a single bit. What about you?
As we look toward 2019, what do you want? How will you position yourself heading into a new year filled with the same hope this year had? It’s not easy, but it’s a simple process.
I’d love to stand with you however I can.
On a family note, Judah turned 10 years old and will be taller than me in no time. He’s known for his sweetness and thoughtfulness. A recent sketching enthusiast, he’s the smartest absent-minded professor I’ve ever met. Addise is learning how to embrace her whole story because our whole story matters. She’s one of the strongest and most courageous people I’ve ever known and she’s only 8 years old. She appears shy at first but she has a level of intensity and passion second to none. Asher’s stubborn and fun to the nth degree. A math whiz and overly enthusiastic hugger and kisser, he’s the middle to our Oreo Cookie trio. He’s too smart for a 6 years old but at least he has a kind heart. Brian and I are partnered more than ever as we design and launch a company that’s the deepest reflection of our calling and passion. He’s working another job, as well, to provide a thin layer of stability as we are in start-up mode. He’s the glue that holds us together.
This year we fell more in love with our neighbors and neighborhood. We dove in (literally with the neighborhood swim team all summer) relationally. Kids can be found running around the block, ringing neighbors doorbells, and requesting playdates like it’s their job. Beauty walks around the neighborhood are common place and trips to the pools are constantly requested. We’re praying we can buy a home in this neighborhood in the next couple years … we love it that much.
Above it all, we are HOME. Our soul finds rest and life in this place. It feels as if this thin place is our place on Earth. We get to decide how we steward it best.