FullFill™ Magazine

An Imperfect Influence

2012-02-12T21:34:00.001-08:00

By Lisa Littlewood

I walk through the front doors into the hotel lobby and immediately notice polished, trendy, modern adornments— geometric patterns, smooth lines, squared furniture, swanky light fixtures.

I quickly feel very far from my messy and disorganized home.

I notice the women. Dozens of women. Many of them gathered in groups talking excitedly and comfortably about projects and networks, tweets and Facebook posts, handing out beautifully designed business cards with smart and quirky sayings and professionally taken photographs and scripture verses formatted in lyrical fonts.

A smiling girl hands me a cupcake. She has purchased spiced cupcakes to distribute as a way to say hello, a way to connect with other women.

I do not have cupcakes. My business cards are not as beautiful as I would like them to be.

All I have is a “hello”, my simple business cards, a suitcase full of (what feels like) all of the wrong things, and a smile that attempts to cover the fear of inadequacy that looms in my heart.

I was at a blogging conference for Christian women. I wanted to run to my hotel room and blog about why I should not be a blogger. About how I had deceived my readers (all two dozen of them!) into thinking I was something that I was not; I was surely not as organized, trendy, confident and pulled together as all of these wome. Those of course were the requirements for writing, for speaking, for ministering, for connecting with the hearts of others.

And then I read the words of Ann Voskamp, in a blog post highlighting her keynote speech from this very conference just one year prior, “You are brave. You didn’t know what this would be like. You didn’t know if you would belong here. Would your hair be okay, your clothes, your weight—your inside? Would anyone like you?”

Come to find out, as I mingled throughout the weekend and listened to other women, many of them sounded just as insecure and unsure as I did. They too had real fears and real questions about whether or not they were pursuing the right things, in the right way, at the right time.

And that, after all, is the point. That none of us have a ministry, a word of encouragement, a testimony or story to share without first having to work through our own struggles and feelings of inadequacy. In the process, we seek grace and wisdom, then, eventually, a filling up that cannot be found in earthly things.

Ann goes on to say, “I am a mess and I tell you my messy story—and it may be the story of the women who read your stories—real women looking for real lifelines…for that is all I have, all we have, really—the word of God making our lives into lines that we throw to each other.”

Sometimes we think that in order to have an influence on someone, we need to have it all together. God gently reminded me that it is often in our inadequacy that we learn to trust him and it is from this place we can reach the hearts of others with encouragement, hope and inspiration.

Lisa Littlewood is a freelance writer from Buffalo, N.Y. who has a heart for writing about how God uses imperfect people to accomplish his perfect will. Her articles have appeared in Buffalo Rising, Thrive Buffalo, Bay State Parent Magazine, Unite Magazine and The Buffalo News. She also blogs about faith, writing and life as a mom at www.littlewritermomma.com.

The Little Things

2012-02-05T21:24:00.001-08:00

By Karen Schellhaas

It’s the little things.

Or so they say. But, I prefer the big things. Big trips, big revelations, big stages in front of big audiences. Big-punch moments that match my bright red lipstick.

But it’s the little things, even the mundane, repetitive things for which I wear a neutral, boring lipstick on a small stage, often with an audience of one or two, that seem to be what my children remember and cherish, and what my friends treasure most in our relationships. As much as I crave large-scale, somewhat flashy influence, God’s evidently got other ideas for me in this season of my life, ideas far superior to my own.

This has never been so clearly evidenced as in a blessing I received via email for my youngest child on his 6th birthday, a child we adopted from Ethiopia at age 2. The surprise blessing came from my Aunt Jo, a 61-year-old woman whom I adore but with whom I shared little more than genetics and warm embraces.

Here is Aunt Jo’s blessing, received in December 2011, an email that humbled and totally surprised us. I share it with you, in part, with her full permission:

“Dear Bode, I must remind you of something important... something to let you know how big you are and how big you have always been! You, your family and Nanna came to Kansas City two whole years ago. I watched you and Brock for a while. Both of you were all cuddled up in your PJs. I read you a story and THEN... you and Brock sang "Jesus Loves Me This I Know" to me! I so remember the look on your sweet faces. Your eyes just shone! You were so beautiful to me! You sang and sang! I almost cried for the sweetness of it... well, ok, I did cry! Why? I used to sing that song with your Nanna when we were little girls, in our family together, sisters. But somehow when I was growing up, I forgot that Jesus loved me. I was so sad and I did not know why! But your song, your joy, your message to me as you sang, began to crack my heart open like a hard old nut. And then I remembered - Jesus loved me, too! It took a while, but then I began to BELIEVE He loved me... once you boys sang that sweet message and shined that light into my heart, I knew that God was calling me again. He had never quit calling me; I just could not hear Him anymore. So He sang out to me through your song -- He had not forgotten me! I knew I'd lost my way and that He was helping me find Him again. I took His hand and I'm not letting go. He holds my hand and He loves me. I missed Him, Bode. You reminded me of how much I missed Him.”

It wasn’t necessarily the big things that God used to romance my Aunt Jo, to woo her back with His love. Among other little things, it was an itty-bitty nighttime ritual, one that we sometimes struggle to continue with our children on those nights when we’re exhausted and genuinely wondering if all the little things eventually add up.

Turns out, they do – in ways I could’ve never imagined. But isn’t that just like God – using the seemingly insignificant or the young or the improbable to do what only he can do. Our God mysteriously weaves little things in to his bigger story, like when he fed 5000 people with a little boy’s two fish and five loaves of bread. A simple, uncomplicated offering made noteworthy through his power. Not that we can always see the bigger story in the detailed, everyday trenches of life, but I ’m asking God for new eyes to see what he sees in the everyday – to trust that he’s got an eternal vision for the few fish and several loaves he’s handed each of us, even a little 6-year-old birthday boy.

Focus Pocus

2012-01-29T20:21:00.000-08:00

By Mary Byers

Imagine this: a morning of solitude. No interruptions. Time to think, reassess, plan, ponder, pray and prepare.

Despite the busyness of life, I’ve set aside a morning each December for the past decade to look back-and ahead-and to prepare a one-page strategic plan. The practice has transformed my life. I’ve often wondered why. This year, I figured it out. It’s the power of the pause: a luxury we may crave but feel we can’t afford in the chaos of modern life.

My first plan emerged in the midst of at-home mothering. Since then, I’ve applied it both to my family life and my professional life as a professional speaker and author. The benefits for me are clarity and what I call “focus pocus--” the magic that happens when you know who you are, what’s important to you and what you stand for.

It baffles me that four hours of introspection and brainstorming carries me through an entire year. But it does. I suppose it’s because my planning session gives me the chance to reflect on who I am and who I want to be. More importantly, it gives me the chance to check in with myself, have a quiet conversation with God, and lift my eyes to the horizon to see what’s ahead. Here’s how you can adopt this powerful process-and you don’t even have to wait until December to do it!

Make an appointment with yourself. I block out a morning on my calendar well before I’m ready to sit down. I know from experience that if it isn’t on my calendar, it doesn’t get done.

Make it special. I stay in my pajamas for my planning session. (It feels deliciously rebellious and reminds me of Saturday mornings from my childhood when we watched cartoons and didn’t get dressed until after lunch.) I sit by the Christmas tree, light a candle, and play soothing music, but any environment conducive to thinking will work.

Prime the pump by reading. Sometimes I page through my journal. Other times I read a Bible passage or a meditation from a devotion book.

Write it down. I start with a question such as, “What is the one thing that would make the biggest difference for me over the next year if I were to do it?” After asking the question, I pick up my pen and start writing. I refuse to censor my thoughts. I capture every thought. Sometimes, I’m surprised by what shows up on the page. Often, I am not.

Decide. Once all my thoughts are on paper, I look for those that resonate the most with me. Of all the thoughts and ideas I’ve written, I select 3-5 to form the foundation of my plan.

Expand. Once I’ve identified my objectives for the year, I jot down action steps for each. A plan emerges. I type it up and post it on my wall above my computer.

Refer. Check your plan often throughout the year. It will help you make decisions, schedule your time, and learn to say no-one of the biggest benefits for me.

Be flexible. Each year I allow myself to identify one item to drop from the list. And that’s been part of the benefit of creating a plan to begin with. I identify things I think I want to do but as the year progresses, I often realize that I’ve written something on the plan because I think I should. When I realize I’m not truly passionate about the objective, I let it go. The intentionality with which I’ve considered the item makes it easier to release it and frees me to move on to other things.

This past December I celebrated ten years of one-page planning. I’ve moved from transitioning children from kindergarten to high school; from a small freelance writing business to a thriving career as an author; from spiritually hungry to spiritually hungry again (yes, you read that right); and from pre-occupied and overwhelmed to focused and content--all because I was willing to pick up a pen and practice the art of one-page planning.

Now it’s your turn.

Mary Byers is the managing editor of FullFill and author of How to Say No...And Live to Tell About It. She’s also a professional speaker. She lives in Illinois with her husband, two children, three fish, two salamanders and a bird.

Packed and Ready to Go

2012-01-22T18:52:00.000-08:00

By Susan Nash

“Have you packed?”

This inevitable question raises my anxiety level each time I leave on a trip. My anxiety stems from last minute packing (which has improved) and the fact that my success rate in packing everything I need is not high. I’m always curious as to what I have forgotten-jewelry, make-up, exercise clothes, even lingerie-and surprised by other items I’ve included. The new regulations about liquids, carry-ons and checked bags have only heightened my awareness of what I’m carrying in my own bag.

I took my first flight when I was two weeks old; the thrill of traveling has never left me. I love new places, new people, new histories and new cultures. I love to explore and to learn. But I have had to get more intentional about what I’m taking and what I’m leaving behind.

I have found the same to be true in my life. Our lives are actually the most significant and adventurous journey we will ever take. Have we packed well? If we belong to Jesus and are headed home, we must get much more intentional about what we are taking and what we are leaving behind. We can only handle so much baggage.

Two things that have been packed in my bag almost my entire life are guilt and shame. The fact that I was a Christian leader and teacher with theological training did not automatically ensure the exclusion of these items from my bag. I carried them with me everywhere. Knowing the Greek and Hebrew words, passionately teaching the truth of the atonement and deeply believing in Jesus did not take away the anxiety of packing or the cost of checking the bag. I could not get what was in my head to stay in my heart. The weight became an enormous hindrance that cost me more than I had to give.

I found this to be true of many other Christian travelers. They thought they packed forgiveness and freedom, but inevitably discovered guilt and shame instead. The journey was made more taxing because of this unintentional glitch.

My “plane crashing” is what finally caused me to learn to pack intentionally. I experienced ministry burnout, which is really a spiritual malady that shuts down all systems. Under God’s patient care, I began to understand the reasons I continued to pack guilt and shame instead of forgiveness and freedom. As I learned let go of my pride and my accomplishments, I began to unpack guilt and shame - literally. I learned a cognitive commitment to the gospel was no good until the gospel became the conscious core of my very being. I had to give up packing the thoughts that had become an automatic grid through which to view and respond to life. My crash had begun a transformation.

So, what’s in your bag? Are you packed and ready for the journey?

Susan C. Nash, a writer, speaker and graduate of Reformed Theological Seminary, has served in church ministry since 1986 on staff in numerous positions and now as a church consultant.

Living Out Your Influence: At Home

2012-01-15T21:18:00.000-08:00

By Elisabeth K. Corcoran

I’ve got forty-four months. Do you know how fast forty-four months will go? I can clearly remember what I was doing in my life forty-four months ago, so I know it will speed by.

What happens in forty-four months?, you ask.

In forty-four months my daughter will start college. My teaching and training days are winding down. Most of my parenting is behind me. And yet, I realized, there is still so much I want to teach her and my son (one year younger). I still have an influence over them, even though I see it daily shifting away from me to their friends and the culture and school (as is normal for their ages).

But while I’ve got them under my roof and while my opinion still counts for something – even if being lorded over a captive audience at times – I am choosing intentionality. I am choosing not to settle for the fact that they seem like good kids so I can just skate through the next few years.

I brainstormed a list of topics that I want my kids to know about before they head out into this big world on their own. Everything from how to clean a bathroom and iron a shirt to how to know your spiritual gifts and interview for a job. I’m also throwing in some weightier issues like how to apologize, how to know when you need to ask for help, how to know when you should break up and how to get through it if you do.

Our first randomly-chosen-out-of-a-cup topic for this coming month is “the importance of a church family” in your life. I’ve already begun shaping how I’m going to share this with them. I’ve already asked friends for feedback. I’ve already asked the Spirit to teach my kids through me.

They may resist. They may roll their eyes. They may even ask if they can be excused before I’m finished (I’ll say no). But I think I’m seeing that I’m doing this as much for me as I am for them. Yes, I want my children as equipped as possible for the harshness of life. And yes, I need to relearn some of these lessons. But I also need to remember that I have a voice, that my opinions and thoughts and experiences matter, not just in the world, but within the four walls of my own home. And I’ve got forty-four months to do it.

Elisabeth Corcoran is the author of At the Corner of Broken & Love: Where God Meets Us in the Everyday (Westbow), One Girl, Third World: One Woman’s Journey into Social Justice (Kindle, Amazon), He Is Just That Into You: Stories of a Faithful God who Pursues, Engages, and Has No Fear of Commitment (WinePress), In Search of Calm: Renewal for a Mother’s Heart (Xulon), and Calm in My Chaos: Encouragement for a Mom’s Weary Soul (Kregel). All these books can be purchased on Amazon.com in paperback or Kindle. She is a proud member of the Redbud Writers’ Guild. Visit her at www.elisabethcorcoran.com.

Small Things: Jesus' Unlikely Game Plan

2012-01-08T18:06:00.000-08:00

Margot Starbuck

Here’s something convenient: if I’ve got to sell everything I own in order to influence a world in need, or if I must move my family to Washington DC to fervently lobby U.S. lawmakers, or if I have to relocate to Calcutta to really impact the world, then…I’m sort of off the hook. Right? (Did I mention my kids are in awesome schools right now?)

If I costume Mother Theresa or Harriet Tubman or Lynn Hybels as world-influencing superheros, the kind who are clearly out of my league, then I’m not really obliged to follow in their gargantuan footsteps.

Don’t even get me started on SuperJesus.

I think Mother Theresa must have known how I’d try to worm out of my clear call to impact the world by loving my neighbor when she said, “You cannot do great things, only small things with great love.” Small things put me back on the hook.

Small things happen when my eyes are opened to the most unlikely folks in my circle of influence. It’s a small thing to enter into a relationship with the woman on my block who’s caring for an elderly parent with Alzheimers. It’s a small thing to show up at the basketball game of a kid on my block without family in the bleachers. It’s a very small thing to give a neighbor a ride to work when her car’s broken down. If Mother Theresa is right, which I fear she is, Jesus is calling me into small things.

Small things happen when I use the particular gifts that God has given me, to impact a world in need. For instance, my father-in-law is one of these disaster heroes. If he’s not doing demo in New Orleans you’ll find him building shelters in Haiti or installing wheelchair ramps in rocky Appalachia. And though it’s hard to explain, to him and others, why I keep going to El Salvador to look and listen, it makes so much more kingdom sense for me, as a communicator, to influence others through writing and speaking than to attempt to cobble together anything meant to resemble a dwelling.

This said, small things also happen when I do dare to leave my comfort zone. They happen when I try out my D+ Spanish in the neighborhood. They happen when I strike up a conversation with the guy down the block who frightens me a little bit. Small things happen when I say yes to caring for a desperate friend’s child, even though I’ve made it pretty clear to everyone I know that I’m not a kid person. Jesus is always calling me out of the comfort zone I enjoy so much.

Basically, small things happen when I grudgingly, crabbily say, “Yes” to Jesus’ invitation to love the world He loves. Word on the street is that this unlikely way is actually the very pattern of kingdom engagement: Shane Claiborne confirms, “God is preparing each of us for something really really small... and it's small things done with great love that move the world.”

This week: think small.

Margot Starbuck is the author of the recently released Small Things With Great Love: Adventures In Loving Your Neighbor. Connect with Margot on facebook or at www.MargotStarbuck.com.

What's New?

2012-01-02T17:34:00.000-08:00

Elisa Morgan, Publisher, FullFill

You know what question really bugs me? “What’s new?” I hate being asked it at parties, all open-ended and accompanied by arched eyebrows of high expectations of my response. Then comes the pause of silence as I roll options around in my cheeks, tasting which answer could possibly be presented to my questioner. Out loud. In public. For others to hear.

“What’s new?”

Well there’s the reality that my husband has accepted new responsibilities in his job that require him to fly even more and longer away from our home. He’s tired but he’s also happy.

Then there’s the recent whisper from my daughter that she’s slowly recovering from losing her precious soon-to-be-born-and-adored baby last year. His tiny feet hold his father’s wedding ring in replica on the mouse pad she presented me at Christmas.

And there’s my adult son’s return home to health and hope. At last.

I could share these responses, but in many cases they feel too vulnerable. Or maybe it’s that they’re “not mine.”

“What’s new?” I swallow and roll my tongue again. Ah, my own bites there at last. I chew.

A three-quarter completed brand-spankin’ new version of the NIV Mom’s Devotional Bible, due out in the spring of 2013. (I giggle every time I tell someone I’m writing The Bible.)

Three book proposals in various stages of creation. All rawly personal and still in the formative discernment process where I wrestle with God, questioning, “Are these ideas for me or for others?”

Tuesday nights in Bible study on the book of Philippians with my neighbors. Grandson Marcus sleepovers with Yia Yia and BeePees. Monthly Mondays with my twenty-plus year old Covenant Group. A couple of trips for fun and a slew of speaking engagements.

A calendar full of commitments I made last year and now must keep this year.

But none of this is really new. And what part of it do I want to share with another?

“What’s new?” I think again and recognize just why the question annoys me so. The pressure to constantly create, to be for others what I’m not really, the discomfort with silence so that I leap to expression too soon. Nothing here is new. Instead, I find hard pits I’m learning to reject. Performance. Pressure. Pretence.

I spit them out one by one.

Left with a mouthful of my own tongue and teeth, I taste again.

What’s new? The year: 2012. The month: January. The day: Tuesday, the second. The hour. The minute. The second. I’ve never been here before, in this exact moment.

“What’s new?”

Me.

And another year of discovering how God has made me to be here and now in this moment. To know him and be known by him. To love him and be loved by him. Now. New.

My turn to annoy you: ”What’s new?” Ready to find out? Happy New Year...!

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” 2 Corinthians 5:17

Christmas Moments

2011-12-26T09:19:00.001-08:00

By Suanne Camfield

Although today is December 26, one day after Christmas has officially ended, if your family is anything like mine, Christmas is anything but over. In fact, as you read this I’ll be traveling eight hours by car, giddy with anticipation for another family gathering filled with eager children, mounds of presents and cookies galore.

And if your mailbox is anything like mine, it’s still welcoming Christmas cards, stragglers written by people who care just as much but couldn’t quite pull off all the addressing and licking and stamping before the post office officially closed its holiday doors.

I didn’t want 2011 to end without sending my own Christmas greetings to you, our beloved FullFill readers. My hope is that you will welcome this letter like the stragglers in your mailbox, from a friend who wants to wish you a Merry Christmas before THE DAY, but didn’t quite make the cutoff.

Every year I start my Christmas letter the same way – by telling the people I send it to that I wasn’t going to write one. I usually make the decision sometime in November, determined not to add one more thing to an already busy season, then exhort myself to stand firm: YOU.WILL.NOT.WAVER.

But, then –every year—something happens. A moment subtly and unexpectedly comes to life and wraps its tiny hands around my heart. And I find myself, once again, tapping away.

This year, I was clearing some Christmas cards out from last year’s card holder, making room for the new ones that had begun piling up on my kitchen counter when I came across a cute little card with a puppy wearing a Santa hat. Not remembering who sent it, I opened the card and smiled when I saw my grandma’s familiar signature. She passed away in January at 93. It was the last card I’d ever receive from her.

Card in hand, I paused for a moment, thinking how her penmanship reminded me of my mom’s, and then tucked the card back in with the others. It didn’t technically belong there, but throwing it away didn’t seem possible. It was, like so many moments we experience in any given year, one that presented a choice: simply toss it aside in a rush to get to the next thing, or let it linger and fill me and move me in a way that compels me to stop. And listen. And reflect.

That’s when I knew I’d be writing yet another Christmas letter.

In many ways, my year year could be categorized as an accumulation of blurred and rushed moments. It was the first full year my family experienced “mom” back at work (after eight years as a stay-at-home mom) while my husband continued to expand his role at the church where he works, while my two elementary age kids were just busy being kids. The four of us worked hard to incorporate things like rest and boundaries, but we couldn’t seem to dodge the season of life we found ourselves in – we’re just plain busy.

Which is why I love the Christmas moments. The ones that make us pause in the midst of the hard and breathless and chaotic and remember that life is full of moments that are rich and good and overflowing with love and laughter and grace. Moments worth pausing for—card in hand—and sopping up and soaking in. Because of that, we’re reminded to grab as many as we can, choosing to value relationships more than schedules, time more than money, neighbors more than ourselves and a Jesus worth pursuing more than any of the rest.

It’s been a privilege to travel through 2011 with you. Thank you for letting us invade your inboxes every Monday morning. My prayer for each of you as we close this year and look forward to the next is that you’ll intentionally pause—even as you live out your influence—long enough to grab a hold of your own moments and tuck them away for another year to come.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year on behalf of your friends at FullFill!

Suanne Camfield is the Blog Manager for FullFill and a freelance writer. She works at InterVarsity Press and is a founding member of the Redbud Writer’s Guild.

Heroic Authenticity

2011-12-18T20:59:00.000-08:00

By Rachel Hansen

I love a good superhero story, a twofold tale. On one side, the main character is an invincible hero, a superhuman with great strength and special power. On the other, a man or woman behind the costume who looks much more like you and I.

Often I am more intrigued by the ordinary, the humble subplot of the humanity within the hero than the extraordinary strength and power that come with the title.

I have tried playing superwoman. Every room in my home holds books that teach me how to be like her. You would think by now I’d be a master chef like Rachael Ray, a home expert like Martha Stewart or perhaps would have uncovered the many secrets to living Real Simple. Instead publications sit on my shelves unfinished—as am I. Conversations with other women center on achieving more while finding balance. In the pursuit of doing it all, I grow weary (and so I also own books on beating fatigue!). Through it all, I continually push forward in search of the right answers.

But I have also experienced enjoyment in being me—no more, no less. I set striving aside and appreciate all I have done and learned thus far. I celebrate where I am in life while humbly recognizing I still have far to go. I embrace the reality that I am not invincible and I turn to God regularly. In the process, I’ve learned to take off the mask and genuinely share myself with others; it is satisfying, inspiring and real.

In a world searching for superpower, authenticity – being genuine, open and available to others – builds influence.

My influence shifted greatly when I chose to lead with authenticity. No fancy façade. I stripped off the polished exterior of my superwoman costume to expose the soft, unrefined parts inside. I offered gritty honesty about my personal life and work. Unfiltered, I shared about the battles I lost, won and what I learned.

Every season God brings women into my path that are hungry for authenticity in a world dominated by superficiality. Getting to know the woman I am behind closed doors, they see there is no better option (for me or them) than choosing to live by faith. In Christ, we are more than conquerors because of God’s love, grace and empowerment.

While many of us aspire to do great things, I have found my greatest influence comes from being myself – an ordinary woman serving an extraordinary God. As women of faith and as leaders, often the best thing we can offer others is authenticity. Sometimes being ourselves is the only thing required because if we only show what is possible through man, we fall short in our influence. But if we share openly about what God has done through our lives, we have supernatural power to change the world. Maybe in the end, it will make us all heroines.

Rachel Hansen has been active in a variety of ministries, currently championing the prayer ministry with her husband at New Life Community Church in Chicago’s Lincoln Park and serving on the Women of the Word Midwest Steering Committee. She is a freelance writer who plans to complete her first book for women of faith in 2012.

Give Grief

2011-12-11T20:49:00.000-08:00

By Caryn Rivadeneira

I’ve been talking a lot about grief lately. My grief, that is. And about lamenting, about all the times I’ve cried out to God about the things that have broken my heart, the things I have lost, the things I cannot change. I talk about my grief when I do radio interviews, when I speak to women’s groups, when I’m leading discussions.

But the other day I noticed something troubling: while I can write about my grief, while I can stand in front hundreds or be “on the air” telling thousands about the trials of my life, I have a hard time expressing it to just one person. Or two. Or a few friends around a table.

I noticed this when a friend called. She asked how I was doing. Although I was not doing well at that time, I gave her my standard chirpy, “Great. Thanks. How about you?” And shoved down all my sadness, all my worries, all the things that had in fact been causing me to panic that very day.

I told myself it was because we didn’t have long to talk. There was no time to go into all the things that made me “not great,” all the things I was waiting on God for.

But the truth was, I was embarrassed, ashamed to admit to this friend that my life was still not in order, that I feared slipping back into the funk that made me write a book about my experience in the first place.

It wasn’t until I got off the phone that I realized the opportunity I’d missed. Something I haven’t always seen as an “opportunity.”

You see, I was raised to believe that no one cared about my problems. I was taught to say—just as I did with my friend—“Fine, thank you. How are you?” any time anyone asked how I was.

It was polite. And—my folks told me—no one wants to hear a complainer.

My parents meant well. Truly. But they were wrong. While that may be a polite response in some ways (though I could argue against that) and while every last person who asks how we are probably doesn’t want to hear a litany of complaints, some people do want to hear it.

Namely, our friends. Our families. Our colleagues. Our brothers and sisters in Christ. People who care at all about us.

In fact, sharing our grief isn’t just something that’s good for us, it can be a gift to others. Which is the opportunity I realized I missed with my friend.

In me not telling her I wasn’t doing well, I not only missed out on the opportunity for her to walk alongside me in a difficult time, but for me to tell her that I understood what it meant to hurt. For me to open the door for her to share any struggles on her mind.

It’s hard to be vulnerable. To share embarrassing things when we want so badly to be seen as successes—in so many ways.

And yet, sharing a bit of grief as well as our joys can be one of the best things we can do for one another.

So, this Advent season—as we all are waiting on our Savior—I’ve decided on the gift I’m giving my friends, my family, my any-one-who-cares: I’m giving them grief. My grief. I’m going to speak honestly and openly about the sorrows—and joys—of my life right now. And hope they can see me as a safe person to share theirs as well.

Anyone care to join me?

Caryn Rivadeneira is a founding member of Redbud Writers Guild and author of Grumble Hallelujah: Learning to Love Your Life Even When It Lets You Down. Visit her at http://www.carynrivadeneira.com

Have You Had Your Fill?

2011-12-04T21:31:00.000-08:00

Elisa Morgan, Publisher, FullFill™

Click here to GIVE your fill!

Have you had your fill? I have. Had my “fill” that is. Every week I take a swig of encouragement, replenishment, perspective, faith, hope and help that comes in the form of the Weekly ReFill. Even though sometimes I’m the one writing them, I look forward to the words and the links and the insights that come through my inbox.

I’m not alone. Joyce writes, “I love FullFill™! It helps me in my walk as a woman of God.” Yeah. Me too. And Diana says, “Thank you so much for the Weekly ReFill being emailed to me. They are so ‘now’ and we all can relate.” Makes me smile. And I think Jesus smiles too. J

Have you? Had your fill? If so, can I ask you to consider something this month?

Weekly ReFill is now filling nearly 11,000 women in the US and lots of other countries. Every week. For FREE. We don’t charge. And I don’t take a salary. Our staff pretty much just volunteers.

But there are still some costs that need to be covered. Like our web site, the platform for the digizine library and the ReFill blasts and the webinars. If you’ve had your fill, will you consider giving so that other women get theirs? Our goal for 2012 is to cover the current 11,000 women we reach and add another 9,000 women for a total of 20,000 women in 2012. That will take $20,000 in funds for “Twenty 12”!

Wait! Don’t delete this because you think you can’t help!

It’s not that much. Pick your number! $1 per woman for a whole year of Weekly ReFills. And access to the whole FullFill™ digizine library and videos and Get More! Think about it! $50 underwrites 50 women for a whole year! Each woman receives the Weekly ReFill every week, access to the FullFill™ digizine and video library and eblast updates. And by the way, you’ll keep getting your fill for FREE too. Some of you may be in a position to make a greater contribution. $385 will sponsor one week for 20,000 women. $1,500 will sponsor one month for 20,000 women.

Plus - for every $10,000 above this amount, we’ll create a new issue of FullFill™ for our digizine library.

So please - will you join us this December and give your fill? Every gift is tax deductable. Click here to GIVE your fill!

Don’t want to give online? Mail your check to:

Mission: Momentum

PO Box 461546

Aurora, CO 80146

Keep an eye on your December Weekly ReFills as we update you on how God provides for our goal: $20,000 for 20,000 women in 2012!

Thank you. Truly. For being a part of the FullFill™ community and for inviting more women to live out their influence!

Elisa Morgan

President, Mission: Momentum, www.missmo.org

Publisher, FullFill™, www.fullfill.org

Author, Speaker, She Did What She Could, www.shedidwhatshecould.com

“Thank you, FullFill™, for a visually pleasing digizine filled with Jesus and His people. I appreciate you!” - Suzanne

Woman Haters

2011-11-27T22:00:00.000-08:00

By Nicole Unice

It was a chic bistro with gourmet sandwiches, and it was a lunch I looked forward to all week. I had the chance to sit with a trio of smart, influential, successful women in ministry. I was eager to share, to learn, to be encouraged. We talked about changing our churches and changing the world. The conversation turned to friendships, and then, this statement:

“Well, I don’t really like women.”

I’ve heard this said more times than I can count. And worse: I’m guilty of saying it myself. Between the delicious food and stimulating conversation, I found my palate sour.

Who but us women, I marveled to myself, can actually destroy from within.

The statement itself is ludicrous. What other species on this earth claims to not like themselves? Can you imagine a similar lunch experience with four men, where one of them exclaims, “I don’t really like men?”

And so I disturbed the calm and asked, “What do you mean about not liking women?” We agreed that when we say “women” we mean a certain kind of woman, and we let that kind of woman dominate our understanding of the gender.

When I’ve said “I don’t like women,” what I’ve meant is that I don’t like women who choose the superficial over the authentic. I don’t like women who try to control those around them. I don’t like women who are so wracked by comparison and envy that they spend their energy cutting others down to pull themselves up.

But I don’t like men like that either.

Why would I, a woman, choose to distance myself from my own gender? Perhaps it’s because I recognize how I’m sometimes like the women I dislike. Maybe it’s because I’m ashamed of women like this and don’t want to be classified as the same. I also know that I’m resentful of women who’ve led in unhealthy ways before me, leaving a path of destruction that has made it hard for me to find my way. But maybe, more than anything, I’ve slowly allowed this crazy worldview of women to creep into my own; I’ve seen that woman equals weakness and I’d rather not be associated with that thankyouverymuch.

These woman-hating statements are not far from a similar one: “I hate women’s ministry.” I doubt any woman thinks that actually ministering to women is wrong or bad or outdated (Jesus ministered to plenty). It’s that we’ve allowed the conversation about “women’s ministry” to be dominated by scathing critiques of knitting circles, beauty treatments and superficiality.

But as the conversation at lunch continued, the eldest at the table pointed out that good and kind women’s ministries have ministered faithfully for decades. That the women who lead them (crafts aside!) have stalwartly carried churches on their backs while simultaneously serving their husbands, their families, their volunteer roles, their schools. That some of these women have saved souls, saved marriages, saved men.

Yet we allow our concept of “women” and “women’s ministry” to be defined by a warped view. We women often allow that to continue, perhaps even perpetuate it.

The unspoken assumption during lunch between us women in ministry was that when we say “we don’t like women” or we “hate women’s ministry,” we exclude ourselves from the entire category. My heart ached in that moment, when I realized I was very close to turning into the exact kind of woman I want to distance myself from.

I don’t have the answers. But I do know that there’s something fundamentally wrong with being a woman and a “woman hater.” It doesn’t honor one another or God nor does it encourage one another to live out our influence.

Can you relate?

Nicole Unice is a woman on a mission to bring others to confidence and daily faith in God and his Word. She is the author of She's Got Issues, (Tyndale) releasing in May 2012 and work in student and family ministry at Hope Church in Richmond, VA. Find out more about her writing, speaking and musings on life, motherhood, ministry and God at http://www.nicoleunice.com or connect with her on Facebook or Twitter.

Holy Indecision! Finding Confidence in Christ

2011-11-20T22:10:00.000-08:00

By Jenny Rae Armstrong

To say I have a hard time making decisions is a little like saying Imelda Marcos had a thing for shoes. You know that woman who stands paralyzed in the cereal aisle, chewing her lip like the fate of the free world rests on whether she chooses Original or Cinnamon Life? That’s me. And when it comes to serious “life” decisions, forget it. I’d rather stay home in my PJs, enjoying the kind that can be neatly contained in my cereal bowl.

Part of this is my personality, but the real reason I struggle to make decisions is because I grew up terrified of making the wrong one, of messing up, of failing. And failure, I discerned at an early age, was unacceptable for good Christian girls. We not only had to avoid sinning, we had to avoid even the appearance of evil, uphold a good name that was “esteemed more than silver or gold,” and basically impress people so they, too, would become Christians. No one said it quite like that, of course, but I knew what was expected of me.

This isn’t as surface-level as it sounds. I had fallen madly in love with Jesus, and had a deep soul-desire to please him, to honor him with my life. But ironically, performance-based anxiety and its big sister, pride, kept my patent leather Mary Janes frozen to the floorboards when I sensed Jesus inviting me to get out of the boat, to follow him into the open seas of life, to trust him. What if I didn’t have enough faith? What if I started to sink, and made him (read: me) look bad? He probably wasn’t calling me—he was probably calling that guy behind me, the one who had been to seminary. He looked like the type who could walk on water, and besides, I’m sure Jesus wouldn’t want me to risk ruining my shoes.

It wasn’t until I experienced a couple colossal failures in my adult life, and developed a tangible understanding of grace, that I began to relax into Jesus’ love for me and discover the freedom to follow wherever he called. Not because I was good enough, but because he was, and I could trust him to work in me and through me as I surrendered myself to him. My self-sufficient American churchianity slowly gave way to a 2 Corinthians 12:9 understanding of my relationship with Christ: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Don’t get me wrong—you still wouldn’t want to be stuck behind me in a busy supermarket. But the further I walk with Christ, the more willing I am to step out in faith – potential failures and all. I’m growing more and more confident that he who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion. After all, isn’t that the point?

Rae Armstrong is an award-winning freelance writer who is passionate about building up the body of Christ by building up women. She blogs about faith, women’s issues, and whatever else is on her mind at http://www.jennyraearmstrong.com. Drop by and say hi!

What Can One Person Do?: More Than We Know

2011-11-13T20:54:00.000-08:00

By Elisabeth K. Corcoran

“I look at the enormity of the problem and I can’t help but think, ‘what can one person do?’” Not only did I used to think that way, but I used to allow that to be an excuse to paralyze me from action. But I don’t believe that lie anymore. One person can do much.

One person can pray with all she’s got, begging God to intervene in any situation, to pour out his power, to give her wisdom to know what she can and should do.

One person can give of her time in a way that will be a sacrifice to her and of great benefit to others.

One person can give money…even a little bit of money…and that can be added to what others have given and then multiplied when God steps in.

One person can call attention to an issue that is usually talked about in hushed tones…making people aware of something they may have had no idea about.

One person can enter into the darkness, carrying her little bit of light, and shed great illumination where only dim shadows used to dwell.

One person can touch another person’s life in small ways – with a kind word, a gentle touch, a moment of time to listen and hold and cry with.

One person can take her gifts and pour them out into someone else’s life, knowing that freely has she received and freely should she give.

One person can take her hurt and ask Christ to turn it into a blessing as she connects with the pain of another hurting heart.

One person can move into another person’s life in large ways – with a shout against injustice, a rallying of a group to do something of meaning, a hand reaching out to draw someone out of their circumstances permanently.

We’re told time and again that we as women have the ability to set the tone of our homes and our communities. That our daughters will learn how to be women and mothers by watching and modeling after us, and that our sons will grow up to look for wives that mirror their mothers. Our neighbors will look to us and see if Jesus is real by what we choose to spend our lives on.

We have been given not just the ability, but the responsibility, to do great good. One life at a time. In our homes. In our communities. And in our world.

Today can be the day that we allow our one life to do a world of good in someone else’s life.

What can one person do in comparison to the vastness of our world’s problems? So very much. Each moment of light can dispel a lifetime of darkness, because light wins out every time.

“You are the light of the world. . . let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5: 14, 16

Elisabeth Corcoran is the author of At the Corner of Broken & Love: Where God Meets Us in the Everyday (Westbow), One Girl, Third World: One Woman’s Journey into Social Justice (Kindle, Amazon), He Is Just That Into You: Stories of a Faithful God who Pursues, Engages, and Has No Fear of Commitment (WinePress), In Search of Calm: Renewal for a Mother’s Heart (Xulon), and Calm in My Chaos: Encouragement for a Mom’s Weary Soul (Kregel). All these books can be purchased on Amazon.com in paperback or Kindle. She is a proud member of the Redbud Writers’ Guild. Visit her at www.elisabethcorcoran.com.

Act Boldly Now

2011-11-07T08:06:00.000-08:00

By Halee Scott

It’s no great secret that women face many challenges in the path to leadership. From limited opportunities to the tension of balancing work and family to misperceptions about the way we lead, many are the things that impede our way to progress. Yet through my work as a leadership professor and consultant and through my life as a Christian, I’ve become convinced that the primary challenge for women is -- Are you ready? Because this will hurt -- the primary challenge that we face on the path to ministry is ourselves.

In the book of Ruth – besides the story of Ruth herself, we encounter the story of Naomi. Often when we read or study the book of Ruth, Ruth’s courage and conviction become the focus of our study. In the shadow of Ruth’s faith, it is easy to overlook Naomi. Naomi’s troubles begin when she is driven from her home because of poor economic conditions. Today we’d describe it as an economic recession or a depression.

At first, the move-to-Moab plan seemed successful. Even in the face of her difficult financial situation, even in the midst of the loss of her home, she still described herself and her life as full. She and her family were able to find food; both of her sons were able to find wives. But then, devastation came and Naomi lost her husband along with both of her sons. Sit with her a minute. Imagine what it would be like to lose your husband, your children, or other family and friends that you rely on.

Maybe some of you have.

All of a sudden, Naomi is plunged into a world of complete loss. She is faced not only with the emotional devastation of losing her husband and sons, but also losing the security of her whole life. Her future and her own existence are a big question mark. In this time of loss, her perspective shifts. She loses hope. She tries to send her daughters-in-law away, saying to them, “It is more bitter for me than you.” She asks that people no longer call her Naomi, which means “pleasant or sweet” and instead call her Mara, which means “bitter.” Both the circumstances of her life and her response to it are bitter.

But God had not abandoned Naomi. As we know, she had at her side a daughter-in-law of incredible faith and courage, and through their circumstances, God was able to bring about a plan that ultimately ushered in the crowning act in all of creation—the salvation of people through Jesus Christ.

Could Naomi, in the land of Moab – the land of great loss -- have imagined this? When I look at Naomi and then I look at my own life, I have to ask myself how many times I have let bitterness and discouragement keep me from doing what God has called me to. How many times have I let my circumstances detract me or distract me from the sweet spot that God has called me too?

It doesn’t just have to be discouragement or disappointment or heartache that keeps us from our calling. It could be overfilled lives or hectic schedules. How many times have I overlooked an opportunity to minister because I was so busy that I didn’t see the need right in front of me?

If we are very honest, the greatest challenge that we have to face in our ministries, in our path to living out our callings, is not the limitations imposed on us by others, but the limitations we impose on ourselves.

The future of ministry by women is in our hands. God is calling women to share in the work of his kingdom. And there is work to be done. We don’t have to look farther than the daily news to see how much the world needs God’s people. In fact, we don’t have to look farther than our own neighborhood or our own church community. What can you do in your context, despite the challenges you face, to act boldly now? Not next month or next year or after you finish seminary or raise your children, but here, today, this week? Reflect on this, because every one of us has a part to play in the future of ministry by women.

Halee Gray Scott, PhD, is an author, independent scholar, and researcher. Currently, she serves as a professor of Spiritual Formation and Leadership at Wesley Seminary and a professor of theology at A.W. Tozer Seminary. She has an M.A. In Religion. Her mission and passion is to help people learn to live, love, and lead well through leadership development and spiritual formation. Join the conversation on leadership and spiritual formation on her website, www.hgscott.com.

From Hip Hop to Gethsemane

2011-10-30T21:51:00.001-07:00

Elisa Morgan, President Mission: Momentum, Publisher FullFill™

It was going on 11am and I sat -- still in my pj’s -- in a slant of sunlight, my slipper-socked feet tucked up underneath me. I was on an annual retreat with women I’ve known for years, catching up on all the layers of our lives.

One friend from Houston was mid-story about a church plant where she and her husband had committed themselves to invest. Since she’s fluent in Spanish and he’s brilliant with money and people, it seemed to make sense for them to venture out from the big, gorgeous, stained-glass cathedral of their upbringing to the multi-purpose facility miles away in an eclectic suburb. I can - with work - wrap my mind around their stunning immersion in a world so different from their “first culture.” I listened along until my friend uttered a sentence that suddenly garbled the context and tipped over my world.

“There’s a Hip Hop group in the Canterbury Hall at Gethsemane (the suburban building) that Jasmine leads and Umberto and Miguel are her favorite students.”

Huh?

Hip Hop. Canterbury Hall. Gethsemane. Jasmine, Umberto, Miguel.

Wha. . .? How could such words be uttered in a single sentence? My mind reeled. What - and where - was she talking about?

Read them again: Hip Hop. Canterbury Hall. Gethsemane. Jasmine, Umberto, Miguel.

My mind left the sunlit room of my very familiar friends and roamed around such a curious collection of nationalities, origins, cultures and contexts. I wondered at the global reality of my world. The world I live in every day. I don’t speak Spanish - well at least not fluently. Sure, I travel a lot but am I really called to such a varied context? I mulled it over.

And BOOM. I saw it for myself: My friend in Houston who volunteers in her church and plays golf with her husband. Another woman I met in Ireland this summer who signs off her emails, “love and bubbles from your wee Irish chum.” My dear Kenyan dinner-mate who wept openly about not knowing if she would be “enough” for the TV show in Africa that God had opened up before her. My world, too, is braided with people who seemingly come from very different worlds and yet are not so different at all.

Canterbury, Umberto, Jasmine. Hip Hop.Words that have never before seemed to go together are now stacked sensibly alongside each other. Lives that would never have touched just five or ten years before, sit side by side and delve into the daily together.

Yesterday I stood at the new Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial in DC and read the quotes surrounding the only African American individual sculpted on our nation’s mall. “If we are to have peace on earth, our loyalties must become ecumenical rather than sectional. Our loyalties must transcend our race, our tribe, our class, and our nation. And this means we must develop a world perspective.”

The apostle Paul said something similar that surely Dr. King recalled. “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male or female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Ephesians 3:28

Hip Hop. Canterbury Hall. Gethsemane. Jasmine. Umberto. Miguel. All are in my world. Not far away down in another neighborhood or across an ocean a postcard away but here. And here to stay. My context is multi.

I shifted my legs underneath my pjs, returned to the room of ruminating and listened anew.

Pay Attention to What Makes You Cry: Expanding Our Influence in Midlife

2011-10-23T19:53:00.000-07:00

By Jennifer Grant

I’ve seen it now so often that I can’t keep track. I see it in women whose fridges no longer exhibit works of art in finger paint. They’re the ones who are beginning to see a little gray at their temples. These women have figured out, for better and worse, the shape and scope of their adult lives. They look at the trade-offs they have made – career for family, or vice versa – and begin to re-think them. They feel a growing desire to bring something new into the world, and that something usually doesn’t require a diaper bag. They get flashes of insight – “Hey, I could do that?” or “I always wanted to….” or “Remember how I was so good at…” These thoughts energize and frighten them. They are women in midlife.

A few years ago, I was negotiating the cramped shoe aisles at a department store when my cell phone rang. It was my closest friend, in tears, spilling over with a story. She had just finished reading Richard Stearns’ The Hole in Our Gospel and for the first time in her life, she felt compelled to engage with people who are affected by the AIDS pandemic in Africa, especially children.

“I just never knew the scope of it,” she said.

I sat on one of the little stools in the shoe section as other shoppers picked through the boxes of snow boots and sneakers around me. “What are you going to do?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Something.”

Since then, she has done something. She’s been to Ethiopia. She’s brought formula and other supplies to orphanages, educated herself about HIV/AIDS, and has addressed local women’s groups. In a few months, she and her husband will adopt a toddler daughter from Ethiopia who was orphaned by AIDS. My friend’s life has changed in midlife, her realm of influence has expanded from that of a woman focused on raising her family and pursuing artistic endeavors to being a voice for those who do not have the opportunity to speak for themselves. Her family portrait – quite literally – will reflect this change.

And it all started because she took note of what made her cry in midlife. Do you find yourself restless and even sometimes in tears?

Pay attention to what makes you cry.

In his book Beyond Words, Frederick Buechner wrote “Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is summoning you to where…you should go next."

· Take heart that this new part of life is about more than you.

If you feel like a new endeavor, journey, or vocation is ahead but fear failure, remember that you are being led into a new area of influence on behalf of God and others. It’s not just about you, and you aren’t alone.

· Pray for guidance and keep your eyes open to the way God answers your prayers.

That uncomfortable restlessness and that lump in your throat are painful. You likely want the answers, sent immediately via email or text message. You are willing to do whatever’s required, but can’t stand waiting to know what it is. Making a transition takes time; see how God is sustaining you in this process.

· Take risks.

For my friend to adopt a child is a risk. To go back to work – or quit your job - write a book, start a new business, leave what is familiar to engage with those who are marginalized – these are all risks, but so is every single act of love.

May we all have clarity and faith as we approach whatever is the next chapter in our lives and expand our influence.

Jennifer Grant is a freelance writer and the author of the memoir Love You More: The Divine Surprise of Adopting My Daughter (Thomas Nelson, 2011). She is currently at work on her second book, also about family, to be published by Worthy Publishing in summer 2012. Find her online at http://www.jennifergrant.com.

Ten "D's" for Effective Leadership

2011-10-16T20:25:00.000-07:00

By Lettie Kirkpatrick Burress

Delegating is key. An effective leader does the tough thing by releasing control of many aspects of ministry to other gifted partners. While guiding by example and by position, one must also learn to share responsibility with those they serve.

Discerning the giftedness of those we minister to is a priceless part of the process of plugging others in and allowing them to experience the joy (and benefits) of service. As we observe the Body of Christ, we must ask God to show us where others fit and what they do well. Then we help them nurture those gifts.

Don’t rush. Very often, leadership comes on board with visions, goals, and plans they are anxious to see in place. Remember, though, it takes time to build relationships, and draw others into our plans while earning trust and respect as a leader. Be willing to move at the pace required for that to happen.

The Destination is unity. When ministry partners move toward a goal in a united way, the success of a project is assured. While there may always be some naysayers, a general consensus is necessary to work together, enjoying the fellowship and growth of a common pursuit.

Disciple, don’t parent. When focused on a ministry goal, it can be frustrating when others don’t see its importance or don’t follow through on their commitments. But, grown-ups don’t need pressure, guilt trips, or someone doing their job. One ministry had a fun newsletter that everyone enjoyed. But it required a group effort of contributions, computer skills, and meeting deadlines. When it became obvious those things were not going to happen, the choice was made to discontinue the newsletter.

Do what works. When setting goals and planning programs, recognize the differences in people, programs, and even spiritual maturity. For instance, one women’s ministry offered intensive 12 week studies that were attended by only a small number of women. When they tried a different type of six week study, they were able to reach a much larger group of women.

Define events. People enjoy being able to call something by name. Try to give an upcoming event a title that describes it and conveys a sense of glad expectation. The topic of lifestyle evangelism becomes “Telling your Story”, and a trip to an unnamed location is a “Mystery Morning”. The naming of events also helps tremendously with verbal and visual announcements.

Distribute accolades. Be generous with appreciation, acknowledgement, and encouragement. Expressing thanks, both privately and publicly, to those who have contributed to ministry (or who just need to be recognized) should be considered a regular part of a leader’s responsibilities.

Deflect both praise and criticism. Just as many complaints and much murmuring can be unfounded and unworthy of response, so praise is pleasant, but only to be acknowledged and released. With an open heart and willing spirit, ask God if the criticism has any merit at all and respond accordingly. When praise comes, remember where glory goes and Who is the source of all we are and accomplish.

Determine to let God lead the leader. It is easy to get caught up in the pace of activity and leadership and forget Who is in charge. Nothing of any worth is accomplished without the power, direction, and wisdom of the One who we serve. his grace, his mercy, and his love will accomplish his purposes in us, in the hearts of those we serve, and in the church and lives we hope to impact.

Lettie Kirkpatrick Burress is a freelance writer and conference speaker. Her newest book release is Taking Back Christmas and Other Family Celebrations, available at www.writingforhim.com . Lettie loves clip-on earrings, outside cafes, and hiking the trails in her TN mountains.

Digging Deeper

2011-10-10T08:12:00.000-07:00

By Melinda Schmidt

Digging deeper is always worthwhile: looking in the sofa one more time for the missing car keys, going through the recipe box again to find that holiday favorite, planting the flower bulbs deep enough so the chippies don’t snag them. Well, I guess that last one isn’t guaranteed!

As American women, however, living at the surface, rather than digging deeper, is often more accepted. The dissatisfying ritual of superficiality is lived out too often in our conversations at coffee shops, playgroups, book clubs, church small groups. After enough time, superficiality and its good friend, inauthenticity, become the way of the tribe.

What we miss when that happens is the excitement of knowing that God’s Spirit has used us to introduce deeper, engaging thoughts into our friendships - thoughts that open up the mind and the soul of a woman.

I’ve seen this most recently in my workplace. On the radio show I host, a new segment models what Christian conversations can look like as they go deeper. Four of us discuss a variety of light-hearted as well as spiritually or topically deeper issues. Listening to us debate, laugh and share openly, other women see the possibility of deeper connections around them.

Three authors I know are using the internet to engage women more deeply. Either through a Bible study blog, through intentional spiritual friendships, or through connecting critical thinkers who are kindred spirits both via email. I’m working to engage the internet more intentionally, yet simply, as well. Recently I forwarded a “codependency fable” in an email blast. One friend responded, “I am in this exact position with someone. I am paying a very heavy price… and I need to let it go.” How can I enliven others spiritually through the internet? Jane said over dinner, “Thanks for those emails you send. I pass them along.”

Our influence fingers its way to places we may never know.

Sadly, many of us greatly underestimate our ability to be a thought leader among those in our circle of influence. Feeling inadequate, silenced or imperfect, we engage at the surface, yet long for the succulent fruits borne of deeper soil. We hang between what we desire and what we feel we can do. Yet, as we begin to refuse superficiality, we notice new opportunities to engage in meaningful thought and spirituality into others. An empty nester friend surprised me last week by declaring, “Why are we still talking about our kids? I’m so much more than my kids!” I was shocked when two other “together” friends, told me independently that they feel they have lost their way, themselves, while raising “successful” kids. These new vulnerabilities are spiritually renewing our journeys together.

During this season of “the harvest,” may we seek God’s Spirit to lead us, and find ourselves blessed to see what he will bring forth both into ourselves and others, as we courageously dig deeper into our relationships. Vaya con Dios! – go with God!

Bio: Melinda Schmidt is the co-host of Midday Connection, www.middayconnection.org, a daily, one-hour talk show that encourages women toward spiritual and personal transformation, living fully into who God created them to be. She has co-authored the program’s two devotionals for women, Daily Seeds and Tending the Soul. Married to Dave and the mom of two young adults, she enjoys soul crafting, speaking on creative faith, conversations with friends and the community of the Redbud Writers Guild. www.melindaschmidt.com.

Influence Through Prayer

2011-10-02T18:24:00.000-07:00

By Cheryl Lee Davis

She prayed for me for nine months. I didn't ask her to do this. I’m not even sure I wanted it. But God heard and he answered. My life was dramatically changed that summer —why? Because that summer – the one before my junior year in high school -- my sister prayed for me over and over and over again. She took my name and my attitudes and actions before the Lord and asked him to move on my behalf. And he answered.

At sixteen my life was transformed. A foundational benchmark was established as I committed to serve God fully.

Prayer is one monumental way that a woman influences.

Do you ever go to prayer as a last resort? Have you ever said, “All we can do is pray”? As leaders, if we are not careful, we might limit our influence to the gifts and abilities granted us. There’s no doubt that God created each one of us uniquely, with strengths and personalities and abilities to lead and influence well for his kingdom. But what if we viewed our influence differently? What if we built up our prayer muscles and relied on the strength of God before we applied our own strengths? What if we decided to pray first? What would that look like? What if our day started with prayer—even before brushing our teeth or turning on the coffee? What if we prayed about even the little things?

We might pray about the outfit we are going to wear, we might pray over every meeting, every decision, and even for the guy at Starbucks—or better yet—decide to take our coffee money and give it to a worthy cause. This could get exhausting, scary even, but would it make a difference? Could it make a world of difference?

Our lives are filled with multiple opportunities to influence others. Those opportunities often help us to discover, learn and grow into our calling, our assignment—and that is good. But prayer moves our influence to unimaginable levels. When we submit ourselves and others to God, something more significant happens. His influence in our lives is multiplied. Our influence is multiplied as well.

So . . . pray. Try it for thirty days. For one month completely change your leadership habits and pray about everything. Pray first. Pray before you do anything. Watch God move. Watch his influence change things around you.

Cheryl Lee Davis lives in Kansas City with her husband and two children. She serves as Vice President of Ministry Development at Stonecroft Ministries. You can read more from Cheryl on her blog at www.womenpursuinggod.com.

Stories: Lost and Found

2011-09-25T19:17:00.000-07:00

By Carol Kuykendall

A woman came up to me following my “Story Telling” workshop at a recent conference.

“I lost my story when my husband died a few years ago,” she told me, her voice wavering with emotion. “I struggled to find a new story…”

She reinforced my point about the times in our lives when we lose the story we are living. The unexpected happens. We take a risk and give up the old to try something new. We’re forced to move or find a new job. We find ourselves heading in a whole new direction and we’re faced with finding a new story.

Tucked into the bridge between lost” and found is often a faith-stretching experience where God is guiding us into a new story with new purpose. And I’m convinced that God wants us to recognize him in that place and share our experience with others, because our story makes him real.

“If you are going to be used by God,” writes Oswald Chambers, “he will take you through a multitude of experiences that are not meant for you at all; they are meant to make you useful in his hands.”

I told my own “new” story in that workshop. I was diagnosed with Stage 4 ovarian cancer and given a grim life expectancy. Instead of fighting that prediction, I let it shape a new story for me: to do what mattered most in the days I had and trust God to equip me every step of my journey even if that meant dying sooner than I expected.

But guess what? I didn’t die. I recently passed the five-year anniversary of my diagnosis which is a milestone in a cancer journey. And suddenly I realized that I’d lost my story about dying and needed to find a new story and purpose about living as a survivor.

My phone started ringing. People who had recently been diagnosed with cancer wanted to know, how I had survived so well.

At first I wasn’t sure how to answer. I didn’t have a nice neat list of do’s and don’ts or unique advice about diet and medications. My story was more about what God had done than what I had done. And I found myself telling the story about the many ways God prepared and equipped me in my cancer journey.

In seeking to encourage others, I discovered how life-giving and hope-bringing our stories are. Eventually, I found my new purpose in helping others find and tell their stories about the life-defining experiences in their own lives.

Discovering our stories usually begins with mining the “multitude of experiences” that have shaped us into who we are and that have revealed God’s new purposes for our lives. Here are some questions to trigger that digging:

When have you “lost” and “found” a new story in your life?

What helped you go from “lost” to “found” in that experience?

What did you learn about God and yourself in that time?

How might that experience make you “useful in God’s hands”?

When we shape our answers into a story and share it with others, especially those walking a path we’ve already travelled, we become useful in God’s hands.

Carol Kuykendall helped launch a Stories ministry in her community and is passionate about helping others find and tell their stories. She is a consulting editor for MOPS International, an author and co-author of nine books and writes devotionals for Daily Guideposts. With her husband, Lynn, she lives in Boulder, CO which (thankfully!) is within driving distance of her three adult children and their families.

Living Well

2011-09-19T09:27:00.000-07:00

By JoHannah Reardon

I am a professional woman who loves my work and who feels fiercely competitive about the tasks set before me. More than anything, I want to make a difference, and I almost always consider that will happen through the work I do. But a few weeks ago, I attended a memorial that forced me to reflect on what it means to live our lives well.

My brother is much older than I am, and he married my sister-in-law, Donna, when I was still in the womb. So I knew her as long as I knew anyone in my family and felt her love from my earliest days. They lived nearby and included me in many family activities, even taking me on vacation.

Donna never held a job outside of her home. She raised her family and was now looking forward to having an empty nest. Tragically, her oldest child died. Donna wholeheartedly accepted the responsibility of raising her granddaughter, Kara. Fortunately Donna’s own health didn’t fail until Kara grew to adulthood with a family of her own, which brings me to her memorial.

Numerous people shared the impact that Donna had in their lives. My sisters and I composed a poem to commemorate her. One young man talked about how he’d been a hyperactive boy, but that Donna had loved and defended him when others wouldn’t tolerate him. Another woman said that Donna always began their prayer times by saying, “Good morning, Lord!” Others talked about how Donna modeled what it meant to be a faithful Christian.

But the one who tugged my heart most was Kara. Kara said that when Donna was dying, she left work and rushed to her grandma’s bedside. Donna had been extremely restless, but when Kara arrived, my brother said, “It’s okay Donna. Kara is here.” She calmed down immediately and began to breathe peacefully. Kara wondered what to do to help her grandmother, who was like a mom, face this journey into heaven, and could only think of doing what Donna had done for her when she was a small child.

So she climbed into bed with her, tickled her arm, and sang her the childhood songs Donna had sung to her when she was a lone, frightened child. With Kara’s arms tucked around her and her comforting voice in her ear, Donna was able to let go of this life and enter the next one.

I love my work and still hope to make an impact through it, but Donna’s memorial rearranged my priorities. So as I write the last line of this blog post, I’m going to push away from my computer and go see my grandkids.

JoHannah is the managing editor of ChristianBibleStudies.com and a contributing editor to Kyria.com, both divisions of Christianity Today International. She blogs at www.johannahreardon.com and has eight e-books on Amazon.com.

Lead, Follow, Serve

2011-09-09T15:35:00.001-07:00

By Judy Douglas

Patches, our Australian Shepherd, took her breeding

seriously. She was a shepherd dog, with no sheep or cattle to herd, so she sought to shepherd people.

Ever so gently she would grab wrists with her mouth and seek to lead-almost anyone she encountered. Unfortunately we lived at a conference grounds, and the conferees she took hold of were first, terrified, and second, totally unwilling to go where she was leading them.

That’s a problem a lot of leaders have: getting people to follow them. What’s a leader without followers?

In the Kingdom of God, leaders must also be followers.

When Jesus called Peter and Andrew, James and John, Matthew as his disciples, he said simply, “Follow me.”

What does it mean to follow? Here are some concepts and synonyms: to go or come after; move behind in the same direction; to accept as a guide or leader; accept the authority of or give allegiance to; to conform to, comply with; to obey; to act like; to imitate or copy.

Surely all Jesus’ disciples-then and now--are called to be leaders in the Kingdom in some way. Some are called to more prominent leadership, and there is much conversation about that today. It is good to desire to be good stewards of our giftings, but I fear too many are over focused on being leaders. Over and over I hear, “God has called me to be a leader.”

Jesus has some pretty definitive things to say about leading in His Kingdom:

When he had finished washing their feet,... he returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master,... Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them. (John 13:12-17)

Leaders wash feet? Perhaps. But for certain leaders are to serve.

Jesus called them together and said, “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant...”(Mark 10:42-43)

I love that: Not so with you. You are called to be a servant.

Has Jesus called you to lead? Then your higher callings are to follow and to serve.

Most have understood this. So we talk about servant leadership. In our church we are talking about shepherd leadership-Patches fits right in.

A writer I read recently suggested a great concept for how we follow Jesus in this: Lead Servant.

I think Jesus would like that.

Judy Douglass assists her husband, Steve, in giving leadership to global Campus Crusade for Christ. Her primary focus is Women's Resources. She is an author, an editor and a frequent speaker around the world, a mom and a grandmother. You can read her real and encouraging blog, Kindling, at www.inkindle.wordpress.com.

Two Bites

2011-09-05T22:24:00.001-07:00

By Elisa Morgan, Publisher, FullFill™

*Consider sharing the video version of this blog as a devotional at your next staff/volunteer meeting? Click here!

As a child, I had a love/hate relationship with spaghetti.

While my mother was rather unpredictable in much of her mothering, she strictly enforced the two-bite rule in our house. The two-bite rule means you have to take two bites of everything on your plate, no matter if you like it or not.

Cept I think the last part of the rule was a true "Paige" (that was my mother's name) add-on. Her version of the two-bite rule was "You have to eat two bites of everything on your plate and then one day maybe you'll be big enough to like it." This "Paige-ism" offered a kind of magic to an otherwise boring rule. After all, you never knew, did you, if you might be "big enough" this time to like the unlikeable?

When I was a child, I didn't like spaghetti. I know, kinda weird. It might have been the tomato taste. Every "spaghetti night" I approached my dinner with a kind of wonder - Maybe this time? I'd watch my older sister wolf down her plate. I'd look at her long limbs and budding womanhood and then at my own skinny legs and flat chest and yearn for "initiation". She was so mature!

I'd fork into the pile of red stuff and slurp it into my mouth - always following it in disgust with a giant gulp of milk as I discovered once again - I did NOT like spaghetti. Still.

Two bites after two bites after two bites, the years passed. Finally one day, after dutifully shoveling in a bite, I stopped, chewed and swallowed. Eureka! I liked spaghetti! I quickly looked down at my flat chest with crestfallen hope. I was still far from mature.

Silly? Maybe to some. But to me, the two-bite rule has come to apply to many things in life with its underlying principle: keep trying something you don't like so much and one day you just may be "big enough" to like it.

I discovered the two-bite rule applied beautifully to reading the Bible. Two bites. And one day you might be big enough to like it.

What are the two bites? Two questions: "What?" And "So what?"

First: "What?" Take a section of scripture and ask "What is it saying?" Literally. For example, let's look at Matthew 5:3, "Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of God." What is this saying?

Literally the sentence says that those who are poor in spirit - literally the word is "bankrupt" are blessed - chosen, happy, in a good state - because they have the kingdom - or presence - of God and his purposes.

Okay. Hmmm. The first bite is "What?"

Second, fork in the second bite: "So what?" What difference does the "what" make? Apply it to your life.

Well, if I'm spiritually poor - or bankrupt - rather than being disqualified or cut off from God and his world - I'm actually closer to possessing it. Wow! That's pretty huge! The "what" becomes an amazing "so what?" in the second bite.

Obviously, no one can live and thrive off of two bites a day. We need more than that - a full balanced meal - to grow fully in our relationship with God. But two bites are a good way to begin.

"What?" And "So what?" Two bites that can help us all grow up to be big enough to like studying the Bible.

*The plan for Fall 2011 is to continue to bring you excellent leadership and spiritual formation resources through your Weekly ReFill and linking readers to FullFill's rich library of themes. Click here to explore the FullFill digizine library. Click here to access FullFill™'s video library. Click here to forward to a friend and spread the wealth of this FREE resource!

It's Not About the Leader

2011-08-28T19:59:00.000-07:00

By Mary Byers

FRUSTRATION. It’s a normal part of a leader’s life. After all, we’re working with imperfect humans. Some are responsible, others forgetful. Some are stubborn dictators and others are people pleasers. And some are highly capable and others, well, let’s just say they’re still learning.

Recently, I was consumed by a leadership role when I was stymied by a challenge with a volunteer. She and I weren’t able to see eye to eye on something. Every time I contemplated the difference in opinion, I thought to myself, “I can’t deal with this!”

As my frustration grew, I realized that how I was thinking about the situation was part of the problem. Thinking, “I can’t handle this,” was disempowering. I wondered what would happen if, instead, I began to think, “I am capable of handling this situation.” Thinking such a positive thought didn’t come easily. I had to actively work at it. But it’s amazing what happened when I began to believe that I could, in fact, handle the challenge before me.

Instead of being overwhelmed, I felt empowered. Instead of feeling frustrated, I began to proactively seek solutions. And instead of focusing on what I considered to be a negative aspect of this volunteer’s personality, I began to see things from her point of view and acknowledge that she had a right to her opinion—even though it was different from mine.

Though small, the shift in my thinking (from “I can’t” to “I can”) made a big difference. It’s enabled me to see possibility where I didn’t think any existed. And it’s made me realize how much more comfortable I am when I am in control or things go my way. This incident has caused me to pause and rethink the value of truly collaborative efforts. I’m still not totally comfortable with the direction we’re taking. But I realize that leadership isn’t about the leader; it’s about the process of coming together to do work that’s bigger than each person individually. And my job, instead of allowing frustration to overwhelm me, is to ask, “How can we move forward in spite of the frustration?” As it turns out, I’m finding this simple question has application not only in my role as a leader, but also in my personal and professional life as well.

Mary Byers is a professional speaker and author of Making Work at Home Work: Successfully Growing a Business and a Family Under One Roof.

Re-blooming

2011-08-21T20:30:00.000-07:00

By Carla Foote

This year more of my roses and perennials are getting a second bloom in the late summer.

I was watering around the patio this week and noticed both the miniature roses and the old-fashioned climbing rose were putting out new flowers. This is not completely unheard of but it hasn’t happened with these particular plants for several years in my garden. The conditions for re-blooming must be just right this summer.

I have been pondering the concept of second bloom since I saw my rosebuds near the patio. At 52 years old, I am most certainly (or almost certainly) in the second half of my physical life. In a reproductive, or “flowering” sense, my season of bloom is past. And yet in terms of the layers of skills, character and soul, my persona, I hope and expect to have many more productive years of contributing and flowering in a variety of ways. I hope to continue to growing intellectually, emotionally and spiritually. Some of my friends who are a few years ahead of me into this season have reflected that their most productive contributions have been in the re-blooming phase, after the demands of family have lessened.

What conditions must be present for re-blooming to take place? Enough water, sun and fertilizer are part of the equation, but deadheading - cutting off the old, spent blossoms during the flowering season - is key to continued blooms. Dead flowers signal the plant that it is time to set seeds and move into the next season of the lifecycle of the plant. Cutting back the flowers before they set seeds tells the plant to keep producing blossoms.

Looking at my roses and their new blossoms made me wonder about areas I need to deadhead in my own life. What habits, activities and attitudes need to be trimmed and put in the compost so I can see new growth and new flowers? Are there places where I am stuck, where old ideas and attitudes need to be cut away in order for the new to grow? This self-reflection process is a continual one in life, but certain seasons and transitions are more prone to the need to identify places to trim.

As I reflect, I am curious about the nature of my future blossoms ... something to ponder as the seasons change. The past few mornings and evenings, the air has been cooler and fall is just around the corner. The seasons change, and there are changes in the nature of productivity in our lives. I have had a distinct sense this summer of a boldness in my spirit, a desire to not be fearful of the next season, but to embrace and explore. Which areas will re-bloom and which will become dormant? I watch expectantly even as I trim and tend.

Small Things. Great Love.

2011-08-14T18:21:00.000-07:00

By Trina Pockett

Harriett Tubman, Mother Teresa. Rosa Parks. Amy Carmichael. Sara Groves. The ONE Moms. Andrea Jenkins. What do these women have in common? They are all influential.

These women have incredible stories of leading in a time of adversity. Harriett Tubman literally led people to freedom. Rosa Parks stayed seated to fight injustice. Mother Teresa served the poor. Amy Carmichael saved women from a life of forced prostitution. Sara Groves has taken up the fight against human trafficking. The ONE MOMs are using their voices to fight poverty. And Andrea Jenkins shared her personal story with me.

I don’t think that any of these influential women were trying to make history; they just took the opportunities placed before them to make a difference in this world.

I think Mother Teresa said it best with “We can do no great things. Only small things with great love.”

You’ve probably never heard of Andrea Jenkins, but she is an influential woman, in a very private kind of way.

Actually she was virtually a stranger to me until the day I received a phone call from her. I was 22 years old, pregnant with our second child, and recently diagnosed with cancer. I was terrified. Andrea was a mom in the MOPS group I attended. Unbeknownst to me, Andrea had battled cancer and was in remission. She hadn’t told anyone what she had gone through, but after hearing about my diagnosis, she decided to share her story with me.

Andrea called me and shared candidly about her experience through cancer. She told me how the chemotherapy might affect my body, my emotions, and my spirit. I had tons of questions and she took the time to answer each one. I hung up the phone with a sigh of relief.

That phone call meant the world to me. It gave me hope that I was not alone. She had walked this road. She had already fought this battle.

Small things with great love.

Andrea saw a need and decided to take action. In my book, it makes her brave and heroic just like Harriett Tubman and Amy Carmichael. Andrea taught me the importance showing selfless love, even when there is a personal cost involved.

The truth is that every woman has something to share to influence others. It might be influencing through advocacy or activism, leading in a time of adversity, or by sharing our personal stories to encourage and uplift.

We must ask, where has God placed us? How can we use our influence to make a difference in this world?

This world needs more women who aren’t afraid to share their voices; Women who will stand up against injustice, love freely, share Christ, show courage, use their platform to make a difference, and who will selflessly share their stories.

My cancer has been in remission for years, but what remains is the memory of that profound conversation with Andrea. The difference she made with one simple phone call.

Small things with great love.

Trina Pockett is a speaker and writer committed to equipping and encouraging women in leadership. Trina currently serves as a Divisional Field Director for Stonecroft Ministries. You can visit her website at www.trinapockett.com. You can also learn more about Stonecroft at www.stonecroft.org

Lessons From the Wash and Wag

2011-08-07T20:59:00.001-07:00

By Christy Foldenauer

I’ll never forget pulling into a small, one stoplight town for a ministry engagement. I coasted up to the church address, bewildered. The sign on the building read “Wash & Wag.”

Pictures of adorable, groomed canines peeked through the glass at me. Must have the wrong address I thought. Then, I saw it. Right in front of me, in plain daylight—my striking ministry glossy. It was tacked to an A-frame built from two pieces of wood, with the words: This Sunday, Christy Foldenhaur! As I felt my cheeks flush, I whispered thanks that the church misspelled my name. Then I came to the startling conclusion, “This church meets…in a Wash & Wag.” Slinking back down into the driver’s seat of my car, I shook my head, unsure of whether to laugh or cry.

I argued with God. I pleaded for humility and grace in the moment. Finally, I conceded that if he wanted to use me in a Wash & Wag, I would bring my best. I went to meet my host and settled into her basement for the night.

The next morning, I preached on limiting labels. The smell of wet dog permeated the air. Yet, in a very untraditional space, something remarkable happened. People arrived with open and responsive hearts, and God did a work among them. He also began a fresh work in me.

It’s been almost two years since my Wash & Wag experience. Several days ago I stumbled on a book by Henri Nouwen that put words to the heart work that began for me that weekend. In The Selfless Way of Christ: Downward Mobility and the Spiritual Life, Nouwen describes the humility of Christ and asserts, “The divine way is indeed the downward way.”

As Nouwen speaks of the downward pull of the Christian life and the call to humbly serve others, he speaks directly to my own heart. Just like the business world, ministry can quickly become a climb to better and better speaking engagements, places of ministry, and crowds. But following Jesus means being willing to meet at the Wash & Wag where ministry happens for sixty, not six hundred. Humble situation, humble place, humble hearts. . . sounds like Jesus would be right at home. The question is, can I follow his example and become downwardly mobile in my own ministry and life? Can I be as excited about a pulpit the size of a postage stamp as I am about a larger platform?

At the Wash & Wag, I realized that ministry should not be an upward climb. I must embrace downward mobility if I am emulating Jesus. Turns out my ministry glossy never looked better. I took a picture of it all just so I’d never forget the lesson.

Maybe, I’ll get the opportunity to go back there and minister again. I’ve learned this: it would be a great privilege.

Christy Foldenauer is a speaker whose passion is helping others find spiritual wholeness through Christ and influencing women to walk fully in their giftedness. She is pursuing a M.A. in Theological Studies at Baptist Theological Seminary in Richmond, VA, while raising three young children with the love of her life. Read her blog and follow her ministry here.

Use Your Voice

2011-08-01T10:41:00.000-07:00

By Elisa Morgan

You might be thinking....enough about Kenya and HIV/AIDS and TB and Malaria and poverty in the slums of Kibera. Let's get back to the leadership/inspirational/get-me-going content I've come to expect in my Weekly ReFill. I mean, after all, it is MYWeekly ReFill.

Or you might be just developing a hunger to hear more and you're disappointed that I'm already back.

Maybe you missed last week's blog and didn't really know I was in Kenya with ONE.

It could be that you just got annoyed at all the Weekly ReFills in your inbox and you deleted them all without reading them.

Smile. This is the final blog in the series.

Last Friday ONEMoms spent the day with farmers in Nakuru. They've formed a kind of a cooperative where they exchange expertise, pool and save their money and improve their crops to improve and address the issue of malnutrition. Such efforts are vital not only for survival of the families of Kenya, but also to prepare for the inevitable cycle of drought and famine such as Somalia is currently facing.

We toured their farms (shambas), enjoyed a sampling of their many varieties of Irish potatoes and learned how they get their produce to individual sellers such as those on the streets of Kisumu.

Their work ethic is stunning. Their joy and empowerment at their success is contagious. Their eagerness to grow and learn and do more motivates me to do more too.

One woman, in her eighties, pierced me through to the soul with the strength of her eyes. I prayed to bring it home with me as my chief souvenir.

There are more still in my suitcase as I write (I haven't unpacked): Hope for change in Kenya and all of sub-saharan Africa. Respect for the hard-working souls that do their work day after day. Love for moms who are doing their best to care for and train their children for a future. Prayer for God to nudge me as to what more he might want me to do.

As I've asked all along in this series, will you join me? I want to ask you to do three things. They are simple. Please?

If you haven't read the Kenya Weekly ReFillSeries, please go tohttp://fullfillmagazine.blogspot.com/ and read it? Complete the simple Daily Action Points at the end of each blog?
Watch the ABC Nightly News for a story about our trip and tell others to watch? (Currently scheduled to air on August 8, 2011)
Join ONEMoms at http://www.one.org/us/actnow/moms/

Kenya is a deeply spiritual place. The people there know God and love him. My heart yearns for more Christians to become involved in the non-partisan advocacy work of ONE as it partners with those working on the ground such as The Center for Disease Control, USAID, Feed the Hungry and more. They don't want your money. They want your voice. Yet another reason why ONE is such a good fit with FullFill™.

If I know anything, I know women want to use their voices!

Will you use yours? http://www.one.org/us/actnow/moms/

You Can Change the World: Day 5

2011-07-30T10:35:00.000-07:00

"A Hug Can Heal"

By Elisa Morgan

I had to watch each step - very carefully. The stench was indescribable. I ducked under clotheslines and around dogs everywhere. Children called out around me, "Hello!" "How are you?!" They reached out and touched me. I smiled and called back, "Hello!" while jumping over muck of who knows what. All around me: rows and rows and rows of rooftops and alleys and chickens and women cooking and men loitering and tables of piled vegetables and dried smelly fish.

Kibera. The largest slum in Africa. Home to around one million people. Poverty like you can't imagine. Filth you wouldn't believe. HIV/AIDS and malaria and TB and you name it. Here 1 in 3 babies die before their first year and one in 6 moms. Malaria is rampant.

The ONEMoms arrived at Binti Pamajo (Daughters United) just one of the projects sponsored by Carolina for Kibera (www.carolinaforkibera.org) in partnership with ONE and other efforts. Its founder, Rye Barcott, welcomed us with his staff. (You can read Rye's story and learn all about Kibera: It Happened on the Way to War. Amazing!) This program for girls ages 11-18 provides a safe place for adolescent girls to explore the issues that are prevalent in their daily lives, including violence against women, sexual abuse, prostitution, HIV/AIDS, etc.

After Rye's greeting we were oriented, divided in teams and began a trek deeper into Kibera - about a fifteen minute walk for us - to the home of one of the young women alumni named Betty. That's where the careful footing, stench and stunning reality set in.

As I picked my path through sewage on the way back, I felt a deep appreciation for this young single mom of three who began each day at 4am to walk to get water - two trips of about 30 minutes each caring two 20 liter jugs. The water bit slayed me. The only water availableat all was that far away. It was anything but clean. But Betty was happily progressing with her life, grateful for the teaching she'd received that improved her life.

Hopeful - but oh so hard! And what a contrast to the day before when I'd walked through a glorious restored mansion and its lush grounds called Amani Ya Juu (Peace From Up Above), a sewing and reconciliation project for refugee women. We were gently guided through rooms of handsewn artwork - toy giraffes, beaded bracelets, quilts, purses - and then as we were welcomed by the working women in a large craft room of fabric and cutting tables we were individually embraced with hugs I will never forget. Dorcas from Uganda, "You are very welcome here." Petronella from Nairobi, "You are loved." Esther from the Congo, "Peace to you." Over and over. Clearly these tortured souls had been redeemed and restored. It was as if Jesus himself repeatedly hugged me. Tears sprang up as I hugged back and took in the utterly gorgeous beauty around me. Fabulous.

But what a contrast to Kibera.

The way out of Kibera replicated the way in. Picking my path through sewage. Smells and unbearable odors. "Hellos!" and "How are yous?" Happy as I was for Betty and her girls, I felt such pain for Kibera.

Just then, crossing a plank "bridge," a tiny girl about 4 or 5 years old ran from the side of the path and grabbed me, wrapping her arms around my legs in a hug. I stopped, received her small embrace with a large smile and patted her back. She was off as quickly as she'd come and I continued my trek.

In a hut in Kisumu where home testing for HIV/AIDS was performed, in a hospital in Siaya where moms and children were given malaria vaccinations, in Lwak Nutritional Center working to reduce the number of mother and child deaths, at Amani Ya Juu, and then today, in Kibera, likely the hardest place I've ever seen on this earth, I'm learning that healing comes in many forms. Sometimes in a vaccination. Sometimes in a classroom. Sometimes in clean water or better nutrition or a safe place to talk and live and learn.

And sometimes in a hug.

I thought about the peace and joy I'd witnessed amidst the undeniable horror. I've seen so much here in Kenya with ONEMoms http://www.one.org/us/actnow/moms/Two days immersed in the health issues of this country and continent. A day in their education system and beginning to learn about their economic improvement efforts. Another day seeing the social systems being put in place to help places like Kibera.

Please join ONE: http://www.one.org/us/actnow/moms/

Day 5 Daily Action: Today the bloggers are meeting with a group of women farmers near Lake Naivasha, Kenya. As you're probably aware, the Horn of Africa is currently enduring a horrible famine. Educate yourself about what's happening on the ground, and learn more about how you can contribute by visiting our friends at InterAction: http://www.interaction.org/crisis-list/interaction-members-respond-drought-crisis-horn-africa

You Can Change the World: Day 4

2011-07-28T08:03:00.000-07:00

By Elisa Morgan

Got hope?

I remember receiving the scratch on my hip sometime around third grade (can’t remember exactly.) My mother wouldn’t allow the test to be done on my arm as it might cause a scar and she wanted my precious skin that would be visible to others to be pure and unmarked. (What would she have done in today’s era of tattoos and piercings? OH MY!) I was mortified. The BIG deal was comparing TB test scars with classmates as to how big, where and how puffy or not. I couldn’t show mine and I resented my mother’s decision.

Today in the United States such tests are a thing of the past as the disease has basically been eliminated. But not elsewhere.

Around the world, nearly 2 million people die of Tuberculosis every year. That’s 200 an hour. TB is the most common cause of death for people with HIV and is among the leading causes of death in women and children and Kenya is one of the countries hardest hit.

Our ONEMom trip today took us to the Nyanza province where there is more TB than anywhere else in the country. We visited patients who were part of a program providing a 6 month regiment of daily treatment provided by an in-home visiting TB coordinator.

My visit specifically took me to see Baby Hope who had been so sick that one of the community had told her mother, Loviance to take the baby home to her village to die. Loviance was sick as well and lived in a slum community. Assigned to a TB coordinator, Baby Hope was diagnosed with TB, as was Loviance, and the coordinator arranged to provide the daily treatment. When we entered their hut, mother and child presented as a beautiful, healthy, glowing family. We listened to her story and marveled at the change and the journey of such discipline that had taken them away from Loviance’s work but had brought about healing.

Unconsciously, I fingered the necklace on my neck, I’d chosen carefully to wear on the trip. My daughter had made it for me after the death of her new baby – a heart and the simple word HOPE. On the plane to Kenya I sensed God prompting me to be ready to give it away once there. Really? But I sensed a peace that it would continue its hope-giving journey there and I’d asked him to show me who. That thought had left my mind when a ONE worker with me suddenly remarked, “Doesn’t your necklace say HOPE?” It wasn’t until that moment that I made the connection. I laughed and realized the necklace was for Baby Hope and I pulled it off my neck and presented it to Loviance.

Hmmm. I’m grateful for the ONE worker – a faithful partner with so many efforts to relieve the suffering of preventable disease. I’m full of HOPE knowing that Hope and Loviance are alive and well. And I don’t give a rip about the TB scar on my hip.

Daily Action: Today the bloggers are meeting with women entrepreneurs in Karen, Kenya who are leading in building their communities' economies and providing opportunities to others. Check out ONE's report "Africa's Future is Female" to learn more about how women are leading a revolution on the continent: http://one.org/c/international/hottopic/3806/?rc=onemompartner. Then, using hashtag #ONEMoms tell us (@ONECampaign) one thing that surprised you. Or leave a comment on our Facebook page (http://facebook.com/ONE)

You Can Change the World: Day 3

2011-07-27T10:20:00.001-07:00

You Can Change the World: Day 3

By Elisa Morgan

I began the day dancing. Literally. Head bobbing, hands in the air, face beaming. And I wasn't alone.

This morning we ONEMoms bumped along dirt roads in our bus, emerged into a clearing and then were swallowed up in a swarm of colorful women. Yelping into song and dance, they swept us forward into their rhythm mosh-pit-style. Joy. I hadn't expected joy.

Dancing with Village Reports

Because in Kenya, moms and babies are dying. Way too many. The stats are alarming:

1 in 10 babies die in their first year and of those 60% die in their first week of life. 1 in five babies die before age five. 6 of 1000 moms die giving birth. Usually of hemorrhage because they give birth at home and are assisted by well-meaning but untrained birth attendants, but also due to other complications in the hospital due a lack of proper care.

Really? Sooooo much effort was being invested into saving moms and children from HIV-AIDS...only to have them die in childbirth? No.

Today I saw a great success story. A tale of digging in and making a difference in a big way.

The dancing stopped and we fell into chairs and exchanged introductions. We'd arrived at the Lwak Nutritional Center, in Kisumu, a program focusing on maternal and child health. Recently, they've undertaken - in partnership with ONE - an amazing study that follows pregnancies, birth outcomes and the health of children in a variety stages of maternity, in order tolearn what works best for moms and babies to live. The dancing women - it turned out - were known as "Village Reporters," elected by their communities to traipse through muddy paths to personally check on new moms and their babies, reporting back their progress to the CDC (Center for Disease Control).

After hearing from a guest "Traditional Birth Attendant" as to how she treats women in delivery with herbs scoured from the country side - one to "turn the baby" - YIKES!

Our team then hiked our way up a rocky crevice to the home of Lillian and her new baby, Emily. Accompanied by our very own "Village Reporter," - also named Emily - we learned that Lillian had tried to make it to the hospital but her labor was too strong and ended up in the untrained attendant's home. We sat on the edge of the bench and were relieved to learn that all had gone well. But when Village Reporter Emily made her post-delivery visit to Lillian, she discovered that the baby had a deformity in her legs and not only advised Lillian to take her to the hospital pediatrician but arranged for transportation. As we met little Emily, we all rejoiced that she'd been attended to early - preventing permanent deformity.

Too many moms and children still die in childbirth in Kenya. The solutions to complete health are multi-layered. We cannot address one issue and overlook others. As one doctor put it, "No woman should

die while giving forth to life."

Today I met Lillian and Emily who both lived. Yes,today there was reason to dance.

Day 3 Daily Action: Today the bloggers are meeting with teachers and students in Nairobi. Watch our video "Chieftainess" about a remarkable woman who is teaching her community about the importance of education. Then share the video with your friends and leave a comment: http://one.org/livingproof/en/story/chieftainess/?rc=onemompartner

You Can Make a Difference: Day 2

2011-07-26T09:12:00.000-07:00

By Elisa Morgan

I got tested for HIV-AIDS today.

I've always been pretty sure that I don't have AIDS. I mean, I've been married to the same man for thirty-two

years. I'm healthy. I don't give blood because I'm "weight-challenged." But honestly...I've never been tested. How do you know for sure if you've never been tested?

So I got tested today. I certainly didn't intend to get tested for HIV when I awoke this morning in a hotel in Nairobi at o'dark thirty.

This gang of ONEMoms is heroic. (Join us! http://www.one.org/us/actnow/moms) After flying some thirty-plus hours and sleeping for five, we boarded a plan for Kisumu, landed and drove an hour or so while being briefed by Dr. Kayla Laserson, Director of the CDC (Center for Disease Control) in Kisumu, Kenya. We arrived in a village and divided up in teams to follow CDC workers to walk into homes to provide home testing. We were to do the listening as the workers tested and counseled families. Our family included Godfrey, Lucy (first wife), Sylvia (second wife) and their combined children, six in all. Godfrey, Lucy and Sylvia had recently been tested positive. The purpose of our visit was to retest and to encourage them to take advantage of free treatment provided through PEPFAR (President's Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief). We were to learn that this is tricky stuff since while the treatment is free, the positive person has to travel a good distance to receive it. That's expensive.

Yeah...I know two wives. It's easy to lose ourselves in that cultural reality and not even take sight of the six children...the lives... the pictures of Jesus on the wall of their mud shack. This is a way of life. Not familiar to me for sure, but one God somehow knows.

How should I respond? What words can I find?

I turn to the facts: I'm in Kisumu...the most concentrated area for AIDS in Africa. There are 6.6 million people globally receiving lifesaving antiretroviral treatment (ARVs). Guess what: 24% of those diagnosed are in Sub-Saharan Africa. Five per cent of these individuals are in tiny Kenya. And of those...one quarter don't know they are positive. Because they don't get tested. Home testing is a sensible, workable, liveable way to go. To save the lives of moms and dads and babies.

We sit across a table covered with a carefully crocheted cloth and Godfrey and Lucy and Sylvia and I try to absorb their future when all of the sudden our ONE.org guide on the visit, Nealon, suggests we get tested too. We: him, me and another mom, Rachel. The smiles break out on their faces. Relief spreads through the room. We talk about the confusion everywhere, even in the US, about the misperceptions of HIV, and the stigma even here of admitting that someone has been diagnosed positive...and stunningly, about the solutions...how we can treat HIV-AIDS Godfrey lifts his head. Our eyes shift to the frames of Jesus on their walls. Godfrey and Lucy and Sylvia decide to take the step to engage in the free treatment positive. We all smile.

I lower my eyes and read my test: negative. Another day. Another season. I smile too, enriched by this day in Kenya and all it had to show me.

JOIN WWW.FULLFILL.ORG AND FOLLOW ELISA IN KENYA

Day 2 Daily Action: Today the bloggers will be meeting with couples and mothers living with HIV, Tuberculosis, and other infectious diseases. Using the hashtag #ONEMoms, tweet a message (or messages) you'd like us to deliver to mothers in Kenya.

You Can Make a Difference: Day 1

2011-07-25T17:04:00.000-07:00

By Elisa Morgan

"If you think you're too small to make a difference, you've never spent the night with a mosquito." African Saying

By the time you read this, I'll be on the ground in Kisumu. God willing. And if you're like I was just a few months ago, you're asking, "What's Kisumu?"

Truly, the first time I heard the word I auto-replied, "God bless you!"

Let me get you oriented a bit so you can follow along better.

Kisumu is a village on the northeast shore of Lake Victoria in Kenya. Kenya is a country of 40 million (42% under fourteen years of age) located on the central eastern coast of the continent of Africa. Just under the "horn" of Africa, below Ethiopia and Sudan (now there are two Sudans...), east of Rwanda and Uganda, above Tanzania. From here we'll head to Nairobi, to the largest slum in Africa in Kibera, and then we'll be in Lake Naivasha before shooting back to the States next weekend. A whirl of an adventure. A spiral of emotions. A merry-go-round of immeasurable need.

Like I said, until a few months ago I'd never heard of Kisumu much less thought I'd ever fly here and connect in person with some of the women of this world. Really?

But here I am and here I plant my feet and my mind and my heart to listen, to learn and to serve that I might then - and only then - share with you and others.

Some facts for today:

HIV/AIDS, tuberculosis and malaria are treatable and preventable diseases that disproportionately affect the world's poor. Here in Kenya, we're seeing the hardest hit region: part of Sub-Saharan Africa where altogether 90% of malarial deaths occur, 2/3 of HIV cases are reported and 1/3 of all TB diagnoses.

How many times we wonder how we can make a difference? How we can invest in a purpose beyond ourselves? How we can - dare I say it - change the world?

That's what I'm here to find out. Come with me? Prayerfully, tag along? Send me YOUR questions? YOUR prayers? YOUR next steps? E-Mail Me! And bring along a friend so that we can enlarge our community, adding one voice to another and another until we have a WAVE of ONE moms making a difference?

Day 1 Daily Action: Today the bloggers will visit health clinics that receive direct funding from the United States. Sign our petition asking Congress not to cut funding for these effective programs that are saving lives. Then ask 5 friends to do the same-Click here!

We All Fall Down. Pursue it if You Want.

2011-07-17T21:11:00.000-07:00

By Kelli Trujillo

I’d escaped the chaotic life at home with three young children and holed myself away in a study carrel at the library to write. Finally some much-needed peace and quiet. Until a little boy, who’d accompanied his mother to the cookbook section nearby, began to loudly sing and chatter. I tried to ignore him, but it didn’t work. I tried plugging my ears, but I could still hear him.

I came here to get away from children! I thought to myself as my irritation started to climb. I began to cast annoyed glances toward the mother who was happily perusing cookbooks, but she didn’t see me. As this went on (for what seemed like ages but was probably only twenty minutes) my insides transformed from mildly-irritated to fuming, grumbling, bitter, judgmental, angry. . .

Well, you get the idea.

I stared at my computer screen in a fury of frustration that soon transformed into a powerful sense of conviction. The sick irony of it all is that I was there at the library to work on my book about cultivating virtuous character.

Have you ever had a similar moment? When you’re blind-sided by the reality that even despite your best-intentioned spiritual efforts, you instead seem to flounder, fall, and fail in that very area you’re focusing on?

This irony of spiritual growth isn’t new.

Amma Theodora, a fourth-century Egyptian Christian and spiritual mentor, observed, “It is good to live in peace . . . however you should realize that as soon as you intend to live in peace, at once evil comes and weighs down your soul through depression, faintheartedness, and evil thoughts.”

I find a strange comfort in Amma Theodora’s words because as a spiritual leader and mentor, her teaching was authentic and profoundly human. This is, in fact, a reality of the Christian life: we aim to grow, we rely on the Holy Spirit, and often we still mess up royally along the way. Rather than attributing this pattern to some spiritual weakness, we can instead anticipate these failures and even be thankful for them. Why? Because they poignantly remind us, over and over, that no matter how far along we are in our spiritual journey, we are always in desperate need of God. “[A]ll our falls are useful,” wrote Francois Fenelon, “if they strip us of a disastrous confidence in ourselves . . . God never makes us sensible of our weakness except to give us of His strength.”

If our spiritual failures cause us to lick our wounds, lure us into apathy or let our sin spiral out of control, then they’re worse than useless. But if we allow God to use our failures to drive out self-reliance and pride and draw us into deeper reliance upon God, then they’re useful. Perhaps they’re even a necessary part of the spiritual growth journey.

So what about you? What failure, flops, or floundering have you been struggling with lately? How might God by using that fall for his purposes?

Kelli B. Trujillo is the author of Faith-Filled Moments and The Busy Mom's Guide to Spiritual Survival. As a freelance editor and writer, her work has been featured in over 80 Christian publications. Kelli lives in Indianapolis with her three kids and her husband David. You can join Kelli in conversation about spiritual formation at www.kellitrujillo.com/blog.

Roller Coasters, Hope and Trusting God

2011-07-10T20:23:00.000-07:00

By Suanne Camfield

I was sitting at the biggest kitchen table I’d ever seen. Long and rectangular, it seated upwards of a dozen and every seat was full. I’d been invited by a senior leader of the non-profit I was working for and was excited, albeit a little nervous, to be there. As the food was being passed, our host asked everyone two questions:

1. What’s the best rollercoaster you’ve ever ridden?
2. What are you trusting God for right now?

I don’t remember my answer to number two (number one was easy, clearly The Magnum at Cedar Point), but I will never forget what he said as he stood at the head of the table. He said he was trusting God for changed lives. It was an answer I had never considered, but since then have often found myself repeating. Between little league games and laundry, work and writing, I aspire to be the kind of person who trusts God for changed lives.

Last year, I traveled to Ethiopia with a friend of mine who was adopting her second child. Two days into the trip, I hitched a ride outside the city limits with another American woman to visit Children's Heaven, a safe house of sorts dedicated to improving the lives of orphaned girls who had lost one or both parents to the AIDS epidemic. Our drive to Children’s Heaven was despairing to stay the least; the haven for these orphans resided in one of the poorest places I’ve ever seen.

When we arrived we were greeted by Hanna, the founder and director of Children’s Heaven. In 2004, Hanna began Children's Heaven with five girls. Today she provides basic necessities, after-school tutoring, mentoring, career training, medical services and biblical training to more than 81 girls who have lost one or both of their parents to HIV/AIDS. Two hundred more are on the waiting list, hoping for their shot at a better life. (In case you didn't hear me, I said FIVE. Then I said TWO HUNDRED.) When we met the girls, who range from ages eleven to fourteen, I was struck by how beautiful they were. Not just because of their physical appearance, but because in the midst of brokenness, poverty and injustice, they were brimming with hope. Hope.
I knew immediately that Hanna and her staff at Children’s Heaven had trusted God for changed lives. I have been drawn to them since, keeping in frequent contact as we’ve become a sponsor for a young girl who is the recipient of Hanna’s faithfulness. My experience there reminds me how far reaching God’s grace is, what he’ll do when people trust him with the vision he’s placed on their hearts and to live out their influence in a way that changes lives. And when I get bogged down with all the busyness that life throws my way -- even in the midst of a season that beckons us to sit, soak and relax – I’m reminded to ask myself, “Suanne, what are you trusting God for?” I hope my answer, more often than not, will come back in the form that makes a difference.

So what are you trusting God for?

Suanne Camfield is a writer, speaker, publicist and the blog manager for FullFill. You can learn more about her experience with Children’s Heaven on her blog (www.suannecamfield.wordpress.com). To learn more about Children’s Heaven or to sponsor a child, visit www.childrensheaven.org

Stuck Seconds

2011-07-05T07:11:00.000-07:00

By Elisa Morgan, Publisher, FullFill™, President, Mission: Momentum

I looked up at the clock on my bookshelf, just as I’ve done a zillion times a day for years. Odd. No time seemed to have passed. Hmmm. I typed away and a bit later, checked again. Same time. Oh. It hit me - the battery had died.

Picking up the clock, I headed for the kitchen battery drawer, grabbed my all-purpose tool (a bent up letter opener), pried off the cover, popped out the old battery and snapped in a new one. Replacing the cover, I turned the clock over and twisted the hands to the correct time displayed on my microwave. There.

I returned to my study, replaced the clock on my shelf and sat back down at my computer. After a few minutes, I checked the time. Same. The clock wasn’t working. Oh, well, I thought. The clock had to be twenty years old. But I left it in place, thinking that maybe it would “decide” to work later in the day.

The next morning I took my place at the keyboard and just a few minutes into my work, I was annoyed by a sound. An irritating clicking sound I’d never heard before. I searched my office and at last found the source: the clock. The hands still had made zero progress but not for lack of effort. Now the second hand repeated its valiant effort: marching forward and back, forward and back, forward and back. Continuously. Ongoing. Unhesitatingly. With zero progress to show. It was stuck. Time had stopped.

How symbolic. In “stuck” seasons, I feel like this clock. I do all the right things to coax movement and motivation into progression. I change my “battery” and reset my “hands” to the correct time and...zip.

I laughed.

David writes, “My times are in your hands...” in Psalm 31:15. He’s talking about God’s vengeance on evil-doers - not everyday stuckness - but I think it’s safe to say that the point of the phrase remains true. Solomon echoes such theology in Ecclesiastes 3:1: “There’s a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven...” A time to move and a time to stay. A time to roar out of the starting blocks and a time to remain. A time to swoop downhill, coasting home and a time to stand and stare at the far-off, seemingly unreachable horizon.

And in all, a time to trust that our times are in his hands. When the hands tick tock clockwise around the circle, marking each dash in precision. And when they rock back and forth in place, making zero progress.

My clock is on another shelf in my study now. I removed the battery and with it, the annoying click. But the hands remain as they were: stuck. It’s a good reminder that my times - all of them - are in God’s hands.

Update for all FullFill™ readers: FullFill™ is on hiatus this summer. You’ll continue to receive your Weekly ReFill each week, linking you to articles and resources to help you live out your influence. Be sure to register for upcoming webinars at our umbrella ministry: Mission: Momentum (www.missmo.org).

“Why Can’t We All Just Get Along?”

2011-06-26T20:14:00.000-07:00

Dr. Liz Selzer

Four generations are currently represented in the workforce: Traditionalists, Baby-Boomers, Xers and Millennials. Each generation comes from different backgrounds and sets of experiences, which have shaped their perceptions and consequently their outward actions. What I have found is there is often miscommunication due to the different perceptions, life priorities and frames of reference held by each generation.

Because of this, women report multiple issues arising when the four generations work together, whether in vocation, church or home. Older generations feel the younger ones can seem entitled and lack respect for “paying dues.” Younger generations often see the older generations as intolerant of new ideas and unwilling to share leadership.

No wonder we have trouble getting along! Organizations are faced with the struggle to appropriately include all generations in leadership, decision-making, strategy and innovation. How can we move to a place of not just tolerating each generation but actually maximizing the offerings of each generation for the kingdom of God?

Let me offer several key points based on Mission: Momentum’s webinar and included in my book, 3G Mentoring.

When you can learn about each generation and understand how and why people think and act the way they do, you can move from irritation to appreciation and respect, from complaining to championing. Appreciating each other leads to greater productivity. It is critical to empower and encourage each generation to contribute what only they can.

Key strategies include:

Promote a learning culture where people are approached with a genuine sense of curiosity instead of judgment.
Support clear open and authentic communication.
Help each individual find a path for their individual contributions and place for leadership.
Equip people to find flexibility but with accountability.
Encourage passion and vision as a connecting point.

As for me – I find these principles work in my vocation, in my community and surprise-surprise! – in my family, the land where so many generational realities hit extremely close to “home!”

Dr. Liz Selzer is the President and CEO of the Mentor Leadership Team and the author of 3G Mentoring. Click here to comment and/or find out more about how to order her book.

Slow Down

2011-06-19T19:22:00.000-07:00

By Arloa Sutter

“Your book changed my life!”

My heart jumped out of my chest! Yes! I thought. It’s what every writer wants to hear.

“Tell me more,” I urged. “What was it that impacted you?”

I assumed he was responding to my challenge to get involved in serving the poor. Or perhaps it was my chapter on stewardship. Maybe it was the theological perspective I wrote about or my call for churches to be “compassionate to the core.” I awaited his response with nervous anticipation.

“It was that part where you said your kids knew they could find clean clothes by looking in the clothes dryer.”

I have to admit I was surprised and mildly disappointed. Laundry?! I had connected with him over LAUNDRY? THAT was what he remembered? I have been interviewed on many radio and TV shows about my book, The Invisible, but no one has ever brought up my dirty laundry!

I had written about a season in my life when my kids were young and I was overwhelmed, on the brink of burn out. “The house was always a mess,” I wrote. “I had stacks of papers everywhere. I was eating too much of all the wrong foods and feeding my young children crackers all day long. The laundry was never folded and put away. The kids learned they could find clean underwear in the clothes dryer amid wrinkled shirts and slacks. Time alone with God had become nonexistent.”

I knew it was more than laundry he was relating to. We had connected because in the harried busyness of life, things like laundry, overflowing sinks, messy basements and disorganized closets become symbolic of our chaos. He resonated with the lessons I learned about not taking on too much, about making sure I scheduled time for reflection and solitude, about taking notice when my stomach tightens with stress, about learning to step back, to say no, to focus on what God is calling me to do rather than rushing ahead with my frenzied activities.

I wish I could go back to those days when my girls were little and relive them. I’m a grandmother now and I see my daughter under the same stress. I want to say to her, “Take your time. I know life is chaotic with young children in the house, but these days will pass so quickly. Slow down. Relax. Ask for help. You have all the time in the world to do what God wants you to do. Take time to cook a great meal. Do some creative art projects with your kids. Read a book together. Don’t let these days pass you by in frenzy. Somehow carve out time alone to listen to that still small voice of God.”

I know… it’s easy for me to say now that I’m a Gramma, but I earned this wisdom from my own hurried mistakes. Sometimes the best way to live out our influence is to fold those clothes gently and put them in the drawers while our kids sleep.

Arloa Sutter is the founder and executive director of Breakthrough Urban Ministries and the author of The Invisible: What the Church can do to Find and Serve the Least of These

Spiritual Rest

2011-06-12T19:53:00.000-07:00

By Nicole Unice

I’m an exercise adventurer; boring workouts do nothing for me. So I’m always up for a new wacky class, race or experience, and last week I wrangled a friend into joining me in a hot yoga session. Who knew I’d be sweating my way into some new insights about leadership?

The ninety minute class is a hardcore exerciser’s dream. With the room a sweltering 100 degrees, the instructor alternately cajoles and commands participants into twenty-six pretzel-like poses, resulting in drip-off-your-nose sweat.

The series of standing poses, moving up in intensity, were right up my workout alley—breathing heavily, sweating profusely, working hard, getting through it.

When the standing poses ended and our instructor took us to the floor, we were forced, er, began, to add a rest pose between every demanding activity. After gripping my ankles and forcing my body into a crooked boat shape, I was told to rest: the savasana pose. Lay down. Be still. As I laid there for the longest twenty seconds of my life, I had time to feel. To feel my heart pounding in my head. To feel fatigue in my muscles. To feel weak. And I hated it. I didn’t want to stop and feel. I wanted to push—push through and push on.

But the resting poses continued and after every exertion, I was reminded, again about the discipline and effort it takes to rest. To feel. To embrace the weakness and actually listen to what Christ wants to say in my spirit.

Similar to my workouts, intensity is where I thrive as a leader. When it’s time to push, to go, to perform and make it happen, I’m your woman. I love action, intensity and a new challenge. I thrive in the pressure. But resting? This is not my style. Choosing to rest, to take my body and soul from working hard to being still? This does not come easily.

In fact, I am often far away from this balance in my leadership. I choose to serve and give without observing a sabbath in my soul. I sometimes ignore and avoid God’s voice by staying really, really busy. Instead I must choose to be aware of this unbalanced tendency and discipline myself to rest.

When I rest, I feel my weakness. And when I feel my weakness, I am reminded that I live in a body that is wasting away (2 Cor 4:16). But the strength of Christ renews me. Each day is a choice: a life lived by listening and keeping in step with the Spirit (Gal 5:25), or a life lived pushing forward with my own timing and agenda. I don’t naturally choose to rest. To choose to rest is to die to myself and embrace the true Way, the way of surrender and God’s control, but I do know it’s necessary if I truly want to thrive.

I still do not like this pose in yoga – hot or otherwise. When I think about my next class, I am already dreading that heart-pounding, forced-rest feeling. Yet I know in the deepest places of me, it is just the pose I need to take--in hot yoga, in leadership, and in my posture toward God’s work in my life.

Does work or rest come easily to you? What do you do to cultivate balance in your leadership and life?

Through the Leadership Maze

2011-06-05T15:41:00.000-07:00

By Elisa Morgan, Publisher, FullFill™

Most of us feel stuck at some point – whether in life or in leadership. Recently Mission: Momentum, the umbrella organization for FullFill™, hosted a webinar with Carolyn Custis James and me where we purposed to propose questions we can ask ourselves in order to get unstuck. You may have joined us? It was called “Through the Leadership Maze.”

We started off the time together asking one question of the participants: Where are you stuck – and why? The answers ranged from seasonal issues (like a needed focus on kids at home) to leadership quandaries of how women can serve in the church and how to move out of an area we’re really not very good at in order to minister in one where we shine. Carolyn and I felt connected to the honesty and transparency of women just like us!

Together then we asked four questions to offer a crowbar out of mired spots and were then deluged with requests for those questions again and again. Each question focused on an element in moving further and farther to invest our influence. So here they are:

Recognize: Where do you have influence? Can you name people you are influencing RIGHT NOW?

Utilize: How are you ready – or not – to invest your influence? Are you holding on to what YOU NEED yourself to invest or are you draining out your influence in codependent relationships?

Maximize: Where do you need more faith in order to invest your influence? So many of us disqualify ourselves before we ever get going.

Mobilize: How are you doing what you could (see the concept of She Did What She Could at www.shedidwhatshecould.com) to mobilize others to invest their influence – in the daily?

Getting unstuck is often a matter of simply answering the next question. Not all the questions. Take a look at the list above again. Which element best represents where you are stuck: recognize, utilize, maximize or mobilize? Answer the question that goes with the verb. The next question.

PS – Click here to register for our next Mission: Momentum webinar on June 15, 2011 with Dr. Liz Selzer on mentoring entitled “Why Can’t We All Just Get Along: Mentoring Four Generations.” It’s FREE for the first 100 women

Loud Sounds, Evil Eye Beams and Truth Telling

2011-05-30T20:33:00.000-07:00

By Margot Starbuck

“If I sneak out of church while everyone is reciting the Apostle’s Creed, “ I reasoned, “I won’t have to fake-smile or shake anyone’s hand when we all warmly greet our neighbors.” The congregation had not made it past “I believe” when I shot out of the sanctuary, fighting back tears and leaving my sons looking a little dazed and confused.

I couldn’t find the words to explain my crazed emotional state to my adult palm-gripping pew-neighbors, let alone a pair of nine and ten-year-old boys. There had been no death in the family. No bitter financial crisis. No shocking infidelity. There had been some very aggravating boy-shenanigans in my pew, but not nearly enough to elicit the evil beams that shot out of my eyes at the son who was playing with Lego guys instead of singing praise songs.

Only later, grappling for language, did I decide that the right word was “depression.” The three clinical syllables, though, hardly did justice to the grueling emotional agony which I was enduring. And that my experience was chemical, rather than sensationally situational, felt somehow shameful. As if my very cells were miscreant.

Because I’ve written a memoir, it’s not a big secret that I’ve wrestled with depression. I’m grateful for the support of a gracious Christian community, a gifted counselor who helped me peel off some onion-ee layers and a keen psychiatrist who identified the medication my body needed. Lots of readers know that, about ten years ago, I was at the bottom of the pit.

Not everyone knows I was there yesterday.

They can’t tell just by looking at me that many of the sounds in the environment we share are dangerously loud when they enter my head. They don’t know that I’m driven to tears by a stubborn child. (Or a compliant one who’s really loud.) They don’t know that, after church, I can fall into bed for hours. Not everyone knows that I’m stuck.

Except that some people do.

Though I didn’t have the energy for conversation, I emailed two close friends to let them know I’d hit bottom. When I had to cancel a playdate at my home last week—and could just have easily gone with “I’m not feeling well”—I decided to tell the two other moms the truth. Even over the last few days, when my lips have automatically said “good” when others casually ask how I’m doing, I’ve quickly retracted the “good” and admitted “really not so good.” I’ve told the truth.

Though I’d rather not be that drippy-nosed smeary-mascara woman who comes undone in front of others, over the years I’ve come to believe that it’s really important. Though I’ve clearly chosen to be gentle with myself in large crowds, like church, I’m convinced that authenticity is important for me and it’s important to those around me.

To answer genuine inquiries with a plastic “fine” is to communicate to others that it’s not alright to hurt, it’s not alright to be broken, it’s not alright to suffer. Yet when I tell the truth about my experience, I give others permission to be who they really are. It has surprised and delighted me how many others, inside and outside of the church, have opened up about their own suffering once I’ve cracked the “actually-I’m-not-fine” door.

Who knows, maybe next Sunday I’ll extend a sticky Kleenex-clutching hand to a pew neighbor. You’ve been warned.

Margot Starbuck, the author of three books, is a communicator who lives in Durham, NC. Margot welcomes you to connect with her at www.MargotStarbuck.com or www.facebook.com/Margot .

Love in a Time of Friendship Challenges

2011-05-20T19:12:00.000-07:00

by Lynne M. Baab

It’s 3 a.m. I’ve just rolled over for the fourth time. My busy mind won’t let me get back to sleep. I finally give up trying to find a comfortable position and, instead, try to figure out what’s going on inside.

A friend is on my mind. I cuddle into the warm blankets and review our recent interactions, trying to tease out the problem that’s keeping me awake. After a while, I resort to a tried and true method of analysis. I recite 1 Corinthians 13 in my mind and try to figure out where and how I can show love more effectively to my friend.

I memorized 1 Corinthians 13 when I was a young woman. What a gift it has been to have that passage tucked away in my brain, available for reflection during long waits at stop lights and sleepless nights like this. Paul’s words have shaped me, helping me to grasp deep inside that obsessing about the ways I am not being honored, respected or shown love in various relationships will not bear good fruit. The model of Jesus and the nudge of the Holy Spirit urge me to grow in acting like a friend, which means acting in love.

Gary Chapman’s five love languages have been helpful in learning to show love to friends. My primary love language is quality time, but some of my friends feel loved most profoundly when they receive gifts, compliments, hugs or acts of service. I need to take opportunities to show love in the ways that they prefer.

Whatever their love language, everyone likes to be heard. In today’s myriad of communication options, it takes a conscious effort to learn how best to listen to friends. Some of my friends don’t return my email messages, but they are active on Facebook. In order to “listen” to them, I need to look at what they are posting on Facebook and comment with affirmation and affection, or perhaps phone them in response to what they have posted there. Other friends are dedicated bloggers, and “listening” to them includes reading their blogs and responding to the thoughts and concerns they post.

In today’s ever-changing world, people of all ages use a variety of means of communication to go deeper with friends. Often depth comes when we show love. The love passages of the New Testament, (such as 1 Cor. 13) encourage us to keep our focus on our commitment to show love, rather than stewing about the ways people do (or don’t) show love to us. When friendships get stuck, sometimes the pattern can be shifted by the choice each of us make to show love in meaningful ways.

Lynne M. Baab’s most recent book, Friending: Real Relationships in a Virtual World has received strong endorsements and reviews. Lynne is the author of numerous books, including Sabbath Keeping and Reaching Out in a Networked World. Visit her website (www.lynnebaab.com) for reviews and other information about her books. She is a Presbyterian minister with a PhD in communication from the University of Washington, currently a lecturer in pastoral theology in Dunedin, New Zealand.

Ditches

2011-05-13T10:19:00.000-07:00

By Elisa Morgan

Can I ask you something?

Are you in a ditch? A what? A ditch. You know, a rut – whether within an existing road to a known destination, or just off the shoulder of such a road. A ditch.

A few weekends ago I filled in for my ailing pastor and preached for the four services. My topic was “Broken Families.” The big idea of my sermon was that I come from a broken family…my family is still broken…we all come from a broken family…because God’s family is broken. In each service, God poured healing and hope out on families of all shapes and sizes. I was humbled to participate. (You can catch the audio of this message at http://www.coloradocommunity.org/sermon/broken-families/ and the video at http://vimeo.com/23211866)

After one of the services, through the winding line of folks waiting for prayer and to be anointed with oil, an elderly woman hobbled toward me with the aid of her cane. Her shock of white hair was every 70-year-old’s dream shade of wisdom and came not from a bottle but from life. Her eyes shown with brilliant emotion.

I tipped my tiny bottle of oil onto my finger and reached to her forehead where I anointed her broken family in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. I prayed that God would hallow her broken family, hold her broken family, help her broken family and heal her broken family. She accepted the blessing and then opening her eyes, she took my hand and said, “Elisa, God wants to heal the little girl that is you as well.”

I met her gaze of love and nodded. I knew. I’d known for years. Through multiple seasons of therapy, prayer, Scripture application and life, I’d experienced layers of God healing my “little girl”, the one that was so frayed from my original family. But in this woman’s choice of present tense: God wants to heal, I understood that while God has healed, he still wants to heal me. In fact, in the months preceding that weekend of the broken, God had been gently peeling back a new layer of release in my soul – one where I was accessing his love for me without platform, place or title. His “just because” love.

In our lives: our relationships as friends, wives, moms and workers, we tend to fall into the same ditch over and over again. Motoring along toward our planned destinations, we note the traffic signals and adjust our speed to the traffic around us. When all at once we find ourselves on the shoulder of the road, stuck in the very familiar ditch of a past definition, in the rut of a scar from an historic wound.

So stunned that we here – again – we stare down at ourselves as the injury reopens and pulls us in. A sinking stuckness surrounds us. Eventually we come to our senses and realize while we’ve been here before, we’ve also found our way out before. We remember. We look up and God comes and offers – again – a hand up and out.

We are wounded, broken folks who were and are in the process of healing. We get stuck not when we remember this, but when we forget it.

Need a hand up?