Author: Aimee Fritz

Legion

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[featured on Perissos, 5/18/16] The story of Legion gives me nightmares. It’s about a naked, bleeding, demon-possessed man with super-human strength, who lives in a cemetery, intentionally cuts himself with stones, and haunts the region with his screams. I think Legion looks like Sasquatch, the Hulk, and Satan all mixed together. In my dreams I walk toward the hillside at night, and I want to help him. I want to take him to a homeless shelter where he can get a shower, a meal, and a bed. I want to drive him to the ER and have someone look at his open wounds. I want him to get transferred to the Psych Ward. I want to give him a fresh start. I walk up the hill in the moonlight driven to find him. When he jumps out from behind a stone my adrenaline surges. I see his crazed eyes, long, matted hair, and gray teeth. I see his naked skin smeared with months of dirt and blood. I see deep scars from all his self-harm, …

2013 – World Changer Wednesday

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I’m really missing the clarity, vision, purpose, and excitement our family had in 2013. Our experiments with World Changing became Heart Changing. And Home Changing. My husband, Chris, wrote about it for Dave Ramsey’s website. I re-read it this morning and got happy tears all over again. [Featured on daveramsey.com 12/17/13] Giving Lemon:Aid for Change All Christmas season, we’ve been writing and demonstrating ways to “give hope.” And people like Chris Fritz, a father of three, have done an incredible job of showing just how to do that.  Inspired by Blood:Water Mission’s goal to provide fresh water to children in Africa, Chris, his wife Aimee, and their children opened a lemonade stand as a way to raise money for that cause. They were blown away by what happened next.  “So what are we going to choose for our ministry focus for 2013?” It was a seemingly innocent question asked by my then 8-year-old daughter during last year’s Christmas Eve dinner. In 2012 we’d decided to help expand the kids worldview by picking a global issue—researching, discussing …

Literally?

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Every morning before I went to the bus stop, my mom would walk me to the front door in her zip-up gray robe, smelling of coffee, and start this conversation: Mom: “What can you do, Aimee?” (big smile) Me: “All things.” (sigh and eye roll) Mom: Through who?” Me: “Jesus.” (another sigh) Mom: “That’s right! You can do all things today! Do you have your armor on?” Me [?] Yes. Mom: Do you have your sword and breastplate? Me [?] Yes. Mom: Good! Love you! Have a good day. (big hug) Me: Bye. I didn’t understand any of that. I knew I couldn’t do “all things.” I couldn’t speak French or jump rope. I didn’t have x-ray vision or know how to make the flying carpet I ached for. There were dozens of things I wanted to do every day that I couldn’t. Poor Mom, she didn’t know what she was talking about. For years when she asked me if I had “my breastplate,” I thought she was asking if I was wearing a bra. …

Robins

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Greta called out “Mama?” from her crib in the back of the house. We greeted each other with smiles and outstretched arms, like long lost lovers, before I carried her out to the front porch. She felt warm and soft and smelled of apples. We looked for our early morning creature friends from the white rocking chair. She stood on my thighs, squealing. I could feel her toes through her footie pjs. She pointed and I called out the animals: “That’s a squirrel: zip-zip! That’s a dog: hi puppy! That’s a bunny: hop hop! That’s a robin: God is Good!” I felt intense attachment to those round mama birds hopping in our dewy grass. I couldn’t believe they could stand up with the heaviness of the babies they carried. Most days I could barely stand up either. The robins made me feel like God was on our side. We heard the twins come downstairs and went inside. The robins moved to the backyard while we ate breakfast. They were on the branches, fence, patio furniture, and …

The 9 Arts of Spiritual Conversations – World Changer Wednesday

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When I met John Crilly (aka “Crilly”), he was hosting a loud party at his house. I think he had one of his hats on, and was smiling so big it made my face hurt. Whenever someone would walk in the front door he would shout something like, “HEY EVERYBODY! IT’S PETE AND WENDY DAVIS!” And everyone in the room would cheer. He did this for hours. Crilly is a really touchy feely extrovert who is energized meeting new people and doing new things. He’s up for anything. But he’s also up for getting quiet if you have have a question or need to talk. My kids like to FaceTime him to tell him jokes about boogers. He’s a safe place. Crilly will share his big heart to give you the joy, safety, and attention you need in that moment. That’s why I’m not surprised he was a part of writing The 9 Arts of Spiritual Conversations. His passion for all kinds of people, for Jesus, for hope, and healing has been hard won, and it’s infectious. Hey …

I Stopped Praying for My Kids

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Some people pray like a troubadour. Beaming about all the great things the Lover of their Soul has done. Their love is mutual and glorious. It’s dramatic and flowery, stomach flips and sighs. I’ve prayed like that, when my chubby baby smiled up me, and when I caught my husband looking at me from across the room. Some people pray like a tenant, leaving post-its on the landlord’s door. They roll their eyes whenever something breaks, knowing that whenever the scruffy, absent ex-con gets to it, it’ll be too late. They wait for him to come over smelling like cigarettes with a roll of duct tape, but normally end up fixing it themselves. Which is what the landlord was hoping for anyway. I’ve prayed like that, when my friend’s cancer didn’t get healed, and when my friend’s divorce was finalized. Some people pray like a child, asking for big things with big innocent eyes. They ask from the safe place on their daddy’s shoulders. Daddy is always patient and trustworthy. He can fix anything, and he …

The End of Pretending

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I was a cynical child. I read the encyclopedia and analyzed comic strips in the Sunday paper. I observed adults and memorized their conversations. I typically spoke out of the corner of my mouth in what relatives called my “ventriloquist voice.” I didn’t like church. The sweet incense and sticky pleather olive green kneelers were annoying. I didn’t like how the priest did that half-singing about communion at the altar. I didn’t want to read a public prayer about loving God when I didn’t even know him. What was so great about God anyway? Then my mom started talking about Jesus all the time, like he was her best friend or something. I couldn’t believe we had to start going to church twice on the weekends – Saturday night mass to keep our grandmas happy and Sunday morning megachurch to keep our parents happy. I didn’t like Kids Praise and Music Machine always playing loudly at home. So much smiling in those songs. Those happy bible verse lyrics invaded my best ideas. I tried to block them by listing …

Dawn Waters Baker – World Changer Wednesday

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I meet God in art. When I don’t want to say or pray, when I can’t articulate the questions or joy in my heart, Art has been my sacred translator. I feel known, understood, and not alone when I encounter beauty on a canvas or carved in stone. I buy the postcards, calendars, and coffee table books of my favorites artists and their work. I use them when I pray. They help me listen and speak to God. I first saw Dawn Waters Baker’s work on Facebook. Scrolling on through the people’s quiz results and baby pictures on my feed, Dawn’s grand, majestic work stopped me. My heart raced, and then quieted. I knew I should pay attention. I was beckoned to stop my rush and contemplate the night sky on my screen. I got lost in the colors. Then the scene. Then the Creator of it all. I whispered worship at my kitchen counter, “thank you, God.” I asked Dawn if I could feature her and her work on World Changer Wednesday because her work …

A Wrinkled Mess

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Yesterday I decided to Spring-clean our bedroom, which included stripping the entire bed and washing the king sized duvet cover. When I pulled it out of the dryer it was a wrinkled mess. I declared, “I’m going to iron the duvet cover.” My husband looked up concerned and said, “You’re going to iron? Are you sure?” It’s been a long time since I ironed. Years. I don’t think my kids have ever seen me do it. Ain’t nobody got time for that. We send my husband’s shirts to the cleaners and buy wrinkle-free clothes for everyone else. I pulled down the squeaking legs of my ancient ironing board and blew dust off the bottle of starch. I turned the iron on. I looked for the seams hidden in the yards of fabric. The geometric pattern was all jumbled under the long wrinkles. Slowly I laid a section over the board and ran my hand over the cool fabric. I felt the heat from the iron. I shook and sprayed the starch. I quickly fell into …

MOPS + Sole Hope – World Changer Wednesday

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When I had young children I was in lockdown mode most of the time. I didn’t want to gather with other moms and hear their own crying babies, chronic fatigue, and familiar complaints. All I wanted was silence and alone time. I regret that now. I wish I would have taken up one of the dozens of offers to join playgroups, story times, or MOPS. I think I would have found the understanding and revitalizing courage I needed. Last month I got to visit two MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) groups in California. These moms show up to hear and serve each other with empathetic grace. They show up wearing, nursing, shushing, and smiling at their babies. They show up hungry to gather and grow. I was moved by their persevering love. One of the moms, named Stephanie, was introducing a service project to MOPS called “Sole Hope.” It sounded great! I wanted to hear how the project went, so I asked for her contact info. I texted her right away from the plane, “Taking off. …

The Buoy

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I’m hiding in the bathroom. Everything is too hard. Again. My child’s big doctor appointment was a disaster. Again. The note from school was embarrassing. Again. Big changes at my husband’s work. Again. Texts about a long death, a baby in the hospital, and a broken deal all dinging on my phone. Again. Wrinkled receipts, unopened mail, sticky cold medicine, half-filled lunch bags, and late library books cover the counters. Again. Off-key piano and bass practice take up all the air. Again. No bread or milk in the fridge. Again. I rushed into the green guest bathroom to try to hide from the tidal wave of anxiety. I heard its distant roar when I was clearing the table. Again. “God? I can’t. I’m not going to make it.” I don’t know how things got this way. So many people depend on me. They follow me and cling to me. They hang there. That’s like my job now. I give long hugs. I lay silently with my kids while they fall asleep. I listen a lot. …

Leeann – World Changer Wednesday

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I met Leeann Drabenstott Culbreath my freshman year in college. She was the one in Birkenstocks and glasses, with a guitar, protest signs, and lots of ideas most people weren’t ready for. We’re way older now, and she hasn’t changed! She and her husband live in southern Georgia raising Zeke and Abe and as much awareness as they can. Leeann has extended love and grace to me in recent years, listening to stories of my dark college days, visiting me when I first moved to Georgia, serving me communion in my living room while I cried, and arranging lunch for us at the Whistle Stop Cafe in Juliette, Georgia, where Fried Green Tomatoes was filmed. A few weeks ago Leeann was in town for her new job. We spent a sunny afternoon in my office talking about Creation Care. Below is only a taste of the passion and vision Leeann carries. I hope you’ll be inspired to think about the big picture and spiritual impact of stewarding creation in new ways. Leeann, what is your ministry? One …

Scabs and Scars

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At eight years old I overheard a woman say an Arabian prince could only choose a woman with no scars to be his princess. I was devastated. I had scars from mosquito bites, chicken pox, bike accidents, and scraping my feet in Gramma’s big cement pool. I also had a belly button, and wondered if those princes were smart enough to realize that everyone had at least one scar. Did the holes from getting our ears pierced count? I’m an almost albino redhead. I’ve had eight suspicious moles removed. The first one was near my right breast. I was 20, and the plastic surgeon named, I kid you not, Dr. Scarzella, said he didn’t want to do the surgery because the scar might hinder intimacy with my partner. I was not even close to being sexually active, but I somehow had enough sense of self to say, “well, I don’t think I’m going to be intimate with any guy who couldn’t handle a scar on my boob.” He laughed and patted my shoulder. I had …

Welcome Rolling Hills MOPS!

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Hello New Friends! I was happy to be with you this morning at Rolling Hills Church. I love the way you’ve chosen to meet together to hold each other up in the tender season of parenting young children. I hope my stories were not burdensome to you. I pray that little seeds of hope and compassion were planted in your hearts. And please remember, you are already doing compassion every day. Here are a few highlights and reminders: Moms, you are already Compassion Experts (read more here). If my messy family can practice Compassion, yours can too (read more here). You might think you have Nothing, but God can make it Something (read more here). For more about our family’s very first Compassion experiment, there’s our 2010 Haiti story (read more here). If you don’t believe that I actually dressed up as a Chicken and did the Chicken Dance at the bus stop  because I love my daughter and the children of Haiti, here’s the evidence: My Chicken Dance at G’s bus stop: Aimee at the Bus Stop Video Haiti Partner’s video back to us: Beautiful video from Haiti Partners Children’s …

Welcome Alameda MOPS!

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Hello New Friends! I was honored to be with you this morning at Bay Farm Church. I was deeply touched by the way you gather together to hear, encourage, and celebrate each other. I hope my stories were not burdensome to you. I pray that little seeds of hope and compassion were planted in your hearts. And please remember, you are already doing compassion every day. Here are a few highlights and reminders: Moms, you are already Compassion Experts (read more here). If my messy family can practice Compassion, yours can too (read more here). You might think you have Nothing, but God can make it Something (read more here).  If you don’t believe that I actually dressed up as a Chicken and did the Chicken Dance at the bus stop  because I love my daughter and the children of Haiti, here’s the evidence: My Chicken Dance at G’s bus stop: Aimee at the Bus Stop Video Haiti Partner’s video back to us: Beautiful video from Haiti Partners Children’s Academy All of us dancing together in Haiti: Chicken Dance All Together …

A Kiss or An Ambush

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I’m not sure when I started feeling sorry for Judas. Surely not as a child, when we’d boo and hiss at his betrayal in the colorful Bible storybooks. He hurt sweet Jesus, who always smiled and healed sick people. Judas was definitely the bad guy. Not in high school, when my personal relationship with Jesus entailed memorizing bible verses, confessing my sins, and listing my concerns about other people’s sins. I would have been able to help Jesus see where Judas was headed. In college, at the height of my legalism and perfectionism, I felt impatient about Judas. I didn’t want to discuss free will, God’s sovereignty, or any nuances. He was a selfish double agent, going after wealth and his own version of justice. It was unfortunate he hung himself, but it made sense. During that time I did a seven-week intensive study program in Greece, Israel, Egypt, and Italy on the archeology, history, topography, geography, and artistry of the Bible. Even though we sang sweet worship songs on the island of Patmos, shores …

Running Away

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Last summer we moved to Georgia. I wanted to run away. As soon as the buses took my kids, I ran hard toward the dark canopy of the trees near our new house. My anger matched the summer sun and my fear matched the thick humidity. I would remember my kids crying about school, getting lost on the way to the store, and all the love we left behind. I would pound that pain into the winding path. Forsaken and alone I didn’t pray anymore. But the trees sheltered me with leaves larger than my face. I would run panting across the intersecting roads to get back under their generous covering, grateful. From the very first run I felt the woods offering me friendship. I was enchanted. Ducks and dogs rushed to greet me. Shiny laughing crows teased me. Deer and sparrows tiptoed in the periphery. Spotted red mushrooms smiled. The lake sparkled. The trees were my favorite. The short one with blue flowers at her feet cheering me on at the start, the arched one reminding …

Holy Outrage

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Our world is terrifying. I can find something to be upset about every day. I open the computer and see in the headlines that ISIS beheaded more people, more refugee bodies washed on the shore, more homeless died in the cold, more kids were sold for sex, and more time was granted to Trump. Evil is smoldering, glittering, and snickering all over the world. Lord, what do you want me to do about evil? Sometimes I read the articles and watch the videos. Sometimes I like, comment, and share news posts. Sometimes I pray about them while I’m driving or running. And then they’re often forgotten, or at least pushed back a row in my mind to make room for the injustice I’ll surely read about tomorrow. Lord, what do you want me to do about evil? When I saw the pictures of the dead refugee baby on the beach last fall I was outraged. I wrote my elected officials and asked them to do more. That felt good for a few hours. But it didn’t change anything. So I …

He Already Did

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I said goodbye, closed the front door, and crumbled to a heap. My friend had quietly driven over to gently tell me she was having her fifth baby. I’d been trying for years to have one baby. We were now at the stage when people whispered apologies when they were pregnant. This is why I have a soft spot for the old barren couple who open the story of Advent. During the time when Herod was king of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah. His wife’s name was Elizabeth; she also belonged to a priestly family. They both lived good lives in God’s sight and obeyed fully all the Lord’s laws and commands. They had no children because Elizabeth could not have any, and she and Zechariah were both very old.” – Luke 1:5-7 Zechariah and Elizabeth were a ministry couple. They did everything right and yet somehow didn’t get to smell soft baby necks, play catch, or brag about grandchildren. They knew how to professionally pray and sacrifice, …

Church is like the Gym

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When I was young I was smart and skinny without trying. People thought I was funny and I had enough friends. There was no need for exercise. Certainly not competitive sports. When I was older, aside from not being skinny, I was always in pain, and I didn’t have experience, tools, or muscles to help me. I had to learn to exercise. One gray day during my captivity as a mom of toddler twins, Chris came home smiling and announced that we were getting gym memberships for Christmas. I glowered at him. Was he saying I was fat? He explained that the gym had free childcare for 2 hours a day, so I could go do my physical therapy, or I could sit in a lounge chair and read a book. I kept giving him the stink eye but ended up going to get my picture taken for the membership card and bribing the babies with jelly beans to go to childcare without screaming. Oh, how I loathe the gym. The PTSD from Jump Rope for Heart …

The DZ Family – World Changer Wednesday

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Some families are called to a regular suburban American life. Some families are called to adventure in far away lands. Some families get to do both.   At this very moment, the DZ Family is in Ind*a. (Due to the nature of their work we can’t share their full name or even type out the country name. We live in complicated times.)  The six of them are doing compassion work all together for many weeks. When I read her updates I feel curious, excited, scared, hopeful, thankful and tired.   I admire Carrie so much. She is a hard working mom with 4 very boyish boys, and a husband that is often overseas for long stretches. She is real, creative, industrious, and steady. She seems to be the right kind of person for the life they’ve been called to. Funny how that happens, isn’t it?   I asked Carrie to share her story, and she generously agreed to despite sick kids, leading a team, and sporadic internet in the developing world. I’m so grateful. I’ve learned more about life …

The Pruett Family – World Changer Wednesday

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Julie is a new friend in Georgia. We were introduced by a visiting mutual friend on a hot summer day, then finally connected on a gray, rainy fall day at Starbucks. We talked about the mysteries of perfectionism, middle school boys, and life in our unique town. But then we started talking about compassion. And it was like we shared our true hearts. We both are trying to raise un-entitled, generous, compassionate World Changers.  I am really excited to learn from Julie and her family. Be warned – her story below is a such a tease!  I want to know 50 more details about each idea she shares.  I hope we will do compassion experiments together in 2016. Introducing the Pruett Family! My husband Paul and I have two children Tyler (age 13) and Avery (age 9). We have been homeschooling for 3 years and feel so blessed to be able to teach our children from a Christian perspective about the world. Tyler is a born leader and perfectionist. He is training for triathlons, plays …

Our 2016 Family Compassion Focus – World Changer Wednesday

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It’s always nice to start the New Year off with hope. In 2016 we did this with the help of bacon, our best friends, and a new Family Compassion Focus. As I’ve mentioned so many times before, last year was tough. Moving, grieving, re-starting. We have a lot more reflecting to do, but I think we learned more about compassion by needing it instead of giving it. We were hurting and needy, and felt love from old and new friends, God, and each other. I think that’s going to shape things for a long time. This was our fifth time officially choosing a Family Compassion Focus. The first time we decided to intentionally pursue compassion as a family we voted to love and serve Orphans (you can read about that choice here). Last year we voted to love and serve Haiti (you can read about that vote here). We put our blank pages on the fridge early in the week and all added ideas at random times (you can read about the whole process here). I think this is the …

World Changer Wednesday – You

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I’ve been getting lots of tips for 2016. Why is everyone on facebook, instagram, email and text telling me how to be healthier, kinder, more stylish, more mindful, and more productive next year? If I knew how to do all that transforming I would already be doing it. If I had that self-control and discipline I wouldn’t need your planner, juicer, diet, questionnaire, accountability group, or membership. My defenses are high. I don’t feel like a World Changer, especially now, exhausted, surrounded by leftovers, cookies, wine, and noisy kids on Christmas break. I bet you don’t feel like one either. How can I possibly be a World Changer when I gave the kids my fearsome Alligator Face an hour ago? How can they be World Changers when they can’t remember to change their own underwear? Maybe we should all just go back to bed. 2015 was rough for Team Fritz. Chris and I just reviewed the outlandish list of goals and hopes we made during our great date on 1/3/15. We were shocked. Never before have we crossed …

World Changer Wednesday – Jesus

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I can’t count how many times I’ve begged God for Rescue in my small life. Chronic pain keeps kicking me. Infertility taunted me. Kids test me. I say and do so many things I regret. And even when I’ve done everything right, I sometimes get lost or mistreated anyway. I can’t fix any of it on my own. I call out for “Help!” and I want a Rescuer to come running. When I call out to God for “Help!” I’m usually wanting Magic. I want the people I’ve hurt to get acute amnesia about our last conversation. I want the drunk driver to swerve a different direction and miss my car. I want my kids to be 100% compliant. Other times when I want God to “Help!” I’m asking for Power. I want to be Right and influence others to agree and act. I want to Perfect and avoid all mistakes. I want pain and suffering to end for me and everyone else. I want “Help!” right in the moment. I want a concierge and team of experts …

Moms – World Changer Wednesday

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It’s still pitch black when my alarm goes off. I roll out of bed with a heavy head and prop myself up at the counter to brush my teeth. I sometimes pray for grace and joy in the morning, but sometimes I forget. Nine times out of ten, Greta bursts in my room with crazy hair, a scowl, and the declaration that she is NOT going to school. Sometimes she melts in my hug, other times she stomps away and slams a door. At 6:04am. In the next hour and a half I butter toast, wake 11 year olds, put ice packs in lunches, ask about deodorant, break up fights, clean up spills, try to shorten 30 minute showers, check backpacks, brush snarly hair, try not to look at my phone, and ask my kids not to touch each other. Some days I rush them. Some days I avoid eye contact. Some days I bark in frustration. Some days I sigh loudly. Every day I give all three of them full body hugs. Every day I pray …

World Changer Wednesday – The Beaird Family

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I really want my kids to be World Changers. I hope they will desire to generously love and serve other people because they are overflowing with grace and joy from God. But how will they learn that? Why would they want to? One year our family chose Orphans as our Family Compassion Focus. My kids couldn’t believe how many orphans were in stories they already knew – Little Orphan Annie, Anne of Green Gables, Moses (Greta wondered if poor Max and Ruby were orphans too). We would say a simple prayer like, “God, help orphans” as we drove around town. Then we researched orphan statistics. The kids learned there were orphans in Uganda – heartbreaking. Then they discovered there were orphans in the United States – surprising. And in Illinois – shocking. And in Wheaton – unacceptable. The kids prayed, “God, why are there so many orphans! Help!” We studied bible verses about the fatherless. The kids prayed, “Every kid needs parents, God! Help!” As the weeks went on, and we kept researching and praying, asking and listening. We all started …

Not Yet (Thanksgiving)

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The best Thanksgiving I ever had was in 1994. I’d finally been kissed by the man of my dreams the night before. After months of writing letters overseas, he flew home and invited me to Thanksgiving dinner. I met his whole family, his closest friends, and his grandma who forlornly asked, “she’s not Norwegian at all?” My heart raced when I caught him looking at me across the room, and when he held my hand under the table. I was falling deeply in love. I was thankful. Several years later, the man of my dreams cooked a huge Thanksgiving dinner for our friends. We had a great time laughing, drinking, and admiring Chris’s culinary skills. After dinner we all went around the table to share what we were thankful for. One friend drew a tiny circle on a piece of paper, pointed to it, and said, “I’m thankful for our baby, who’s about this size in my belly right now.” We all clapped and cheered. Then 5 minutes later another couple announced their pregnancy. We clapped and cheered …

Poop on Christmas

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Our Christmas is going down the toilet.  And it’s a good thing. I’m always trying to figure out ways to connect with my 11 year old son. I made it through the Thomas trains phase, the Matchbox cars phase, the Dinosaur phase, and the Pokemon phase. Now we’re in some weird tween boy limbo. He recently asked if he can start hunting. Except for Star Wars, Harry Potter, and a very occasional chess game, we have little in common. Most of our conversations are me nagging him about homework and hygiene. It’s kind of sad. On New Years Day when we voted for Haiti as our 2015 Family Compassion Focus, the kids all declared what they were looking to do there: “Something with kids!” – Greta “Something with chickens!” – Zoë “Something with toilets!” – Caleb Over the next several weeks we got the laptop out at breakfast and researched the country and it’s hard history. We studied it’s weather, people, and natural disasters. We read aloud from more than 30 different websites to learn what different nonprofits are doing …

World Changer Wednesday – The Ferguson Family

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Christmas is coming. So are all the stresses, expectations, and responsibilities. Isn’t that sad? We really want joyful, meaningful, sparkly holidays, but we can’t really figure out how to make that happen. It’s seems to be some sort of haphazard magic – when the snow falls at very moment Silent Night starts and all the kids are singing and smiling like angels. We feel warm and safe deep inside. What if there really was a way to make Christmas more joyful, meaningful, and sparkly? My good friend Theresa and I believe that starts with compassion. When we look for ways to love, serve, and give instead of frantically spending and wanting, our homes and hearts begin to feel different. It’s heart changing and world changing. It’s joyful, meaningful, and our eyes get a little sparkly. Thank you, Theresa, for letting us share how your family does Christmas! Finding Peace During the Christmas Season by Theresa Ferguson at Family Freckles Buy this! Shop now! Just one more gift! The messages to spend are everywhere in the weeks and …

Fighters

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I hate The Walking Dead. Many very smart, sensitive, and spiritual people love the show, like my husband, but not me. It’s not the haunted house make-up or the constant gargle of zombies that bother me. It’s that in order to survive, you have to kill. I hate it. We now live 15 minutes from where the series is filmed, so I’m trying to watch this season. I’m also trying to win Best Wife Ever. I ask about 35 questions per episode, but Chris still invites me to join him every freaking time. A couple of weeks ago I groaned, “I cannot take it. If the zombies come, honey, just kill me. I wouldn’t want to live like this.” Chris set his jaw, clenched his fist, and looked at me as if I just confessed an affair. He said, “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. We are fighters. We are survivors.” We told the kids about the attacks in Paris on Friday night at dinner. They asked if it was ISIS. I reluctantly told them …

Shopping Spree

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There are so many different ways to be a World Changer. When I read the post below from Stephanie Marsiglio I was smiling, encouraged, and inspired. I begged permission to share it here. Thank you, Stephanie! “The kids asked for Descendents costumes for Halloween (@$40 a pop). I told them that if we spent all that money on costumes they would only wear once, we wouldn’t have as much to share with others. So I made them a deal: they had $120 to spend on their costumes. Anything they DIDN’T spend, they could give to someone in need and THEY got to pick who. Suddenly, their attitudes completely changed. They couldn’t wait to see what they could come up with at home with stuff we already had so they could have more money to give away. The ended up spending only $40 total leaving them $80 to give to others. Fast forward to last night. They looked through the World Vision catalog for an hour trying to decide what to get and eventually settled on a goat …

Trading Hope

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Our family has done lots of compassion experiments to raise money and awareness for world changing organizations. We made soap and gourmet lemonade for clean water in Africa. We made ornaments to give a house warming party for a formerly homeless family. We baked cupcakes to help orphaned and imprisoned children in Uganda. This year our Family Compassion Focus is Haiti, and we’ve chosen to work with Haiti Partners. But our circumstances are different than previous years. We live in a new state and don’t have the kind of network one builds after living somewhere 19 years. And we don’t have the energy it takes to make thousands of dollars worth of crafts. I’ve been wondering how we can finish 2015 strong, giving Haiti Partners what we have. Especially without using a chicken suit. Greta and I visited the Haiti Partners Children’s Academy in Haiti in October. We did the Chicken Dance, stayed in the mountains, and learned some Creole words. When we asked Greta what she wanted to get Jesus for his birthday present she said she wanted …

World Changer Wednesday – Danielle

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Do you think beauty can change the world? Let me tell you about my friend Danielle. She creates beauty. Her paintings capture vivid colors, haunting beauty, and secret tenderness. They have been featured at several galleries and art shows. But she also went into my kids’ classrooms with her easel and paints, letting 5 year olds touch her work and asking them to help name her pieces. She designs beauty. She can see potential everywhere. Clients want her to make their homes and offices inviting, artistic, and practical. This is easy for her. But even as the expert she extends grace and confidence as they participate in the process. Clients are empowered and grateful when they see their ambigious ideas come to life. She celebrates beauty. Whether it’s at the Art Institute, renegade craft fairs, or a garage sale, she finds amazing things. She appreciates lines, colors, form, and function. She loves when a piece has a history. This year she found all these things in a new place, and it has changed her. She can’t stop talking about it. Introducing …

Update – World Changer Wednesday – The Powells

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Last month we met the Powells (that post here). In just a few years their family has grown from casual, convenient compassion to radical, intentional compassion. They sought out new ways to love those hurting around them, and surrendered their free time, family time, money and relationships to do it. I asked Amy if she could share how their most recent World Changing, Heart Changing, Family Changing trip went. I begged for scoop from her and each of her 3 kids. I couldn’t wait to see pictures. When I downloaded them I was captivated. The Powells radiate joy in Kenya. It’s that gift that comes with surrender. When you give what you have to God, he gives you joy. And you can’t help but share that joy with everyone around you. Summary of the Powell’s Trip to Kenya October 2015 by Amy, Allie, Jack, and Cooper This was the third trip to Kenya for me (Amy) and my daughter, Allie, and the second for my sons, Jackson & Cooper. My husband, Corey, has been before, but he was unable …

This is What I’ve Got

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I started running again, here in the Georgia woods, and I love it. Mushrooms, moss, flowers, and spiderwebs sing quiet songs. Ducks, deer, and dogs accompany me. My favorite trees feel like friends, and the familiar curves in the path are a comfort. It’s where God and I have most of our talks. Me: This is so beautiful, God. Thank you. God: I’m so glad you like it. I love you. Me: I love you, too. Me: What do you want from me, God? God: I only want what you have. Me: I feel like I don’t have much at all. God: What brings you joy? Me: I don’t know what brings me joy. God: I know it’s hard. Me: I’m trying. God: I know. I love you. Joy is hard for me to find. It’s not what anxious, depressed people are known for. I found it when I started surrendering. It’s different, almost rebellious, and I like it. This entanglement of surrender with joy is changing how I see God. God isn’t mad at me, and he isn’t mean. While …

You Gotta Be You (Halloween)

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I am known for being a Truth Teller. I give it to you straight. I cannot hide my emotions or tolerate too much crap. I’m not good at pretending. So Halloween is not really my scene. This has always been the case. According to family legend, I was a strong-willed child. This story is one of my favorites: “When you were four you said you wanted to be Princess for Halloween. Your Mom didn’t buy you a plastic costume at K-Mart, she was going to make one for you. She stayed up all night to sew you a beautiful princess costume. It was shiny lavender with gold rick rack. You woke up the next morning on Halloween and hated it. You stomped and said, ‘I don’t want to be a Pretty Princess! I want to be Aimee Paulson!’” Here I am, fourth from the left, hanging out at Montessori that day. Screw you, Halloween. I’m Aimee Paulson. I played along in the future. I remember only two costumes. In 4th grade I was a gypsy – lots of blue …

Seeds

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They handed me this box with teary smiles: Remember, we love you. It felt like an urn, full of things dead and over. I couldn’t look at it. I carried it home and packed it away, quickly. Many weeks and miles later we found it at the bottom of a storage container. Greta: Is that a treasure chest?! What’s inside?! Me: They said it was full of love. Greta: Can we open it? Me: I’m not ready. Many guests came to visit our new home, Sweet River. They roamed into my office, scanned the pictures and books on my shelves. Guest: What’s in the box? Me: I’m not sure. It’s from my friends. They gave it to me before I moved away. Guest: You haven’t opened it? Me: I’m thinking of keeping it shut, like a time capsule, until I’m in the nursing home. Guest: Really? Me: I’m not ready. The kids started their new schools. My big house and little heart felt painfully empty. An old friend called, concerned. Friend: It’s time to open the box. Me: I’m not …

UPDATE – World Changer Wednesday – Mary

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Last week we met World Changer, Mary Rezcek. (To read that post click here) Here is a little morning message from her to brighten your day. Please watch it. https://youtu.be/SIbdCotDWbw Mary was hoping to collect 800 pairs of socks to give to the homeless in Chicago this winter. So far, she has received 1370 pairs of socks! ***** Now she is hoping for 2000 by 10/31/15! Only 630 more pairs ***** I love it! In the video Mary refers to her friend Sparkles. Here is a picture of them. They met the very first night Mary went downtown when she was 5 years old. It’s not hard for Mary to be a World Changer because she isn’t thinking about facts and numbers. She is remembering real people that she actually talks to. She is thinking about their cold, wet feet. She loves them because she knows them. Mary and her friends are writing notes to go in each pair of socks. They aren’t just going to drive by and toss them out the window. They are going to hand …

Wrecked

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Our first child was born October 3, 1998. We had been married 2 years. It was an unexpected, terrible birth. She was an ugly, horrible baby. She’s an awful demanding 17 year old. And while we’ve made peace, most days I fear her. My first baby’s name is Pain. She was born the night I was hit by a drunk driver. That day, my sister and I were hit from behind, pushed into oncoming traffic, and crashed into a second car. The guy who hit us side-swiped 3 other cars and sped off. My sister was covered in sparkling glass, we had some cuts, headaches and big bruises, but the paramedics couldn’t find anything severely wrong with us. But there was. Pain had arrived. She was an insufferable colicky newborn for 2.5 years. She demanded my full attention day and night. It felt like a steaming hot iron was being dropped on my tailbone every 10 minutes. To keep her quiet, I carried a pillow and ice packs to client meetings. I tried 8 different pain meds. We saw …

Bullies

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I was bullied mercilessly as a kid. It started in 3rd grade, when I suddenly didn’t understand the fast multiplication in blue pen on the overhead projector. I got moved from smart math to regular math. My bully taunted, “Ha! You thought you were smart and you’re NOT! You are STUPID.” I walked through the halls with my head down. On the bus my bully would point and laugh when I moved my book bag over for a neighbor to sit down and she’d walk past ignoring me. “You have NO FRIENDS! You are LAME!” she shouted. I would sink in my seat, cross my arms, and try not to cry. We moved away after 6th grade. My new school in California was totally different. I was offered drugs on the bus and jr highers were having sex under the trailers instead of going to class. It didn’t take long for a bully to find me. “You don’t smoke POT?! You’re such a goody goody. NERD! LOSER!” I don’t think a boy talked to me once and my …

Sara Groves – Floodplain

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[Sara Groves’ new album releases today, November 6th, on iTunes.] Dear Sara, Your new album, Floodplain, is a gift. I have been listening to it at my desk, in the steam of my shower, while the kids shout in the car, and stirring pots in the kitchen. I bought it this week for my friend going through a intense crisis. I didn’t know what to say, but I thought your album would make her feel loved and understood. Because that’s what your songs always do. The poetry on this album translates so much of what I’m feeling as I explore surrender. I’m deeply thankful. I first found your music 13 years ago, totally taken in by the first line of the first song on All Right Here, “It’s been a hard year, but I’m climbing out of the rubble.” I had found a friend who would understand. I listened nonstop. I’ve been learning from you ever since. I’m not a music reviewer. I cannot speak to the technical aspects, overarching artistry, or industry comparisons of your music. But I’d like to share how …

Sweetness

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I’ve been talking about Surrender all month. Most everything I’ve shared seems hard. White knuckles, sweat, anguish. Deep questions and dark answers. Foggy epiphanies. Slow acceptance. That is my story. But it’s not the whole story. I need to change the channel. Let’s look at this another way. My life is full of goodness. Sometimes when I let go, joy is waiting to rush in and surprise me. Surrendering can bring great delight. There is honey in the rock. I have countless examples: When curiosity got the best of me, I pushed through first impressions, and was delighted: Thinking the plate was full of gross bugs, then realizing they were bacon wrapped figs stuffed with goat cheese. Turning my nose up at a dress on a hanger, then finding out I looked fantastic in it. Rolling my eyes about some bossy stranger at a party, then belly laughing with them by the end of the night. When I felt my body tighten up, from fear or embarrassment, and decided to go with it anyway. All the endorphins: Standing in line …

Chosen

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Who doesn’t want to be Chosen? It’s the best! You like me! You picked ME! It’s the core of so many childhood memories: Sit by me on the bus Pick me for your kickball team (actually, please don’t) Sit with us at lunch Mom and Dad, am I your favorite? Birthday girl, pick me to sit by you 6th grade boy, ask me to dance I went to new schools for 7th, 8th, 9th, and 12th grade. It was rough. So many first days of school with zero friends. So many moments of holding my lunch tray with white knuckles looking out at the chaos of a crowded lunchroom. I skipped a lot of those to hang out and read in the bathroom or library. So much savvy required to know how to look approachable but not needy, confident but not aloof. I learned “To Have a Friend You’ve Got to Be a Friend.” Which meant learning how to smile, risk eye contact, and invite someone to be my lab partner. It meant learning to laugh at jokes that I …

What I Did Over Summer Vacation

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Moving to Georgia has been hard. We pulled up to Sweet River, our new home, grateful and curious. The kids ran around laughing. The truck came, our house filled up with boxes, and I got to work. I stacked plates, organized books, admired long-lost treasures, and commissioned my husband to spend his weekends hanging pictures. It took a long time. I pushed. I got really tired. One night my husband was talking about where to host the Fantasy Football Draft. I tuned out. He asked me some question and I put down my drink, slammed my palm on the couch, and huffed, “It’s not happening, hon! You can’t do Fantasy Football in Illinois! We live here now. Come on! It’s over! It’s dead. Let it go.” It was quiet after that. Chris followed me into the kitchen and I started vigorously scrubbing some dishes. He asked, “Are you ok?” And I huffed, “No. I’m not! I’m exhausted! [scrubbing] But this is what we signed up for. Just gotta get through it.” He said, “That doesn’t really sound like a plan, babe.” …

World Changer Wednesday – Mary

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Do you let your kids talk to strangers? When you see a homeless person do you avoid eye contact and tug at your kids’ sleeves to keep walking? Does the big city scare you? My friend Gabi is a World Changer. She has practical ideas, strong opinions and a big heart. Helping other people is a simple, common sense idea to her, and she’s desperate for The Church to cut the crap and get to work. She and I are Stubborn Soul Sisters in this regard. I really do want my kids to be World Changers, but sometimes I chicken out. Our family’s Compassion Focus last year was Homelessness. We focused on our county, town, and school, but we never made it to downtown Chicago. We learned many new things, but we did not learn how to befriend a homeless person on the street. Gabi’s kids have been serving the homeless for a long time. Their daughter Mary started going downtown to love homeless people when she was 5 years old. Look and see what …

Welcome, New Friends!

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Many of you are visiting here today because you heard me on Ali Eastburn’s Heroes of Generosity podcast. It posted on Tuesday, 10/20/15, and I’m humbled to be a part of it. If you haven’t heard it yet, you can hear the podcast directly on Ali’ Eastburn’s website. (It will be on iTunes, soon, too.) We talk about family, generosity, compassion, and the crazy things we do for love. We laughed a lot during the interview and I hope you’ll laugh along with us as you run errands, commute to work, do the dishes, or work out. Ali Eastburn is World Changer. Eight years ago she heard God asking if she might be willing to sell her wedding ring to give an entire village clean water. That radical generosity birthed a movement and the organization With This Ring. Over a hundred water wells have been built around the world because people sold their wedding rings, heirloom jewelry, and chose not to have fancy weddings so others might have their first taste of clean water. Please listen to Ali’s …

I’m Not a Player

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Today I decided to play. My kids were caught off guard. Daddy is Mr. Fun Time, he’s strong, spontaneous, quick to laugh, and agreeable. He wears costumes on a regular Thursday and makes up words almost every meal. He serves pancakes on Saturday mornings, plays video games, board games, and ping pong, and is always up for wrestling. I do none of these things. Well, Daddy had to leave for a business trip at 6:30am on a Sunday. So here we go. When we got home from church I heard many hands pawing through lego bins. I wandered in the room and sat on the floor. Kids: Mom, what are you doing? Me: I’m playing legos. Kids: What?! Me: Yep. Kids: Tell us what pieces you want! What are you making? Have you seen the robot chickens I’m making? Can you build Minecraft stuff? I made a house for robot ninja dogs. They were kind and encouraging.   After legos I asked, “Do you want to eat cheese balls and watch The Amazing Race?” We all ran downstairs, snuggled …

Kintsukuroi – I Guess We Have to be Broken

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A few years ago my son and I had a very bad day. As I tucked him in, I hugged him, and prayed out loud, “Oh Lord, I put a hole in this dear kid’s heart today. With my mean face and impatient, harsh words. Please forgive me. Would you fill in that hole I made? Will your light and love chase away the yucky darkness?” Enough time had passed since my outburst, so Caleb was in the place to hug me tightly back and I say, “I forgive you, Mom. I know you love me.” I laid there holding him in silence a long time. I hate that I hurt his heart. I struggled to believe God would really fix it. We’ve all been broken. Sometimes we are jerks, and we toss someone’s heart on the floor. Sometimes other people are jerks and our hearts get shattered. My kids have had pieces chipped off by peers, teachers, their own choices, pain, and me. God and I had a conversation a long time ago, when I felt too …

A Little Note About Anxiety

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Earlier this month I mentioned that sometimes I worry. When I do, I imagine all my tasks and woes on a long curling list and I surrender it to Jesus. Jesus takes the list, and my mind and body can rest. This simple picture has radically changed my prayer life. But then there’s anxiety. Anxiety is the ticker tape banner at the bottom of the news screen. The constant stream of things that have, can, and will go wrong. Sometimes I imagine that list scrolling off the left of the screen into a wheelbarrow Jesus is expectantly holding. Somedays that is not enough. I didn’t know I had anxiety. I thought I was smart. A thorough thinker. Always prepared. Realistic. I hoped I wasn’t a dream squasher and a balloon popper for all my optimistic, visionary friends. But seriously, how did they really think those grand plans were going to happen? Anxiety is about living on the defense in a dangerous world. Those of us with sensory issues have brains that tell us there is always …