Monthly Archives: October 2014

BIG NEWS – A Dream. A Risk. A Leap. Now we’ve landed.

 

 

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I packed the bags up in the middle of the night while you were sleeping.

I have moved us and I hope you don’t mind. See, I spend so much time talking about dreams and all the ways they spin inside us – twisting and turning with the beats of life. Over the past few months I’ve gotten pretty clear about something.

There was one thing I dreamed of doing. Of being. But I just couldn’t muster up the courage to take the leap. I’m not graceful by nature and knew if I jumped there is a good chance I’d break my ankle. But, this is life and trips to the ER can’t be avoided. I’ve got to live it out and jump with the energy of a Beyonce concert. So, I did.

I have started a new website, and this place will soon be no more.

This is a place I’ve been dreaming of for awhile. I started blogging seriously about three years ago. And in that time I’ve realized so much of what I am passionate about. Most surprisingly you. I’m passionate about you and those crazy ideas that bounce in your head. And that destiny in you? Gosh, it gets my blood pumping.

That got me thinking. How can I turn this passion into something bigger than a blog? Well, by starting a business to make sure that I have the time and opportunity to help pull those things out of you.

I’ve built us a bigger house friends. Let me break it down:

  • Blog -this new website will house a blog just like Lark & Bloom. About once a week I’ll post same as I always have.
  • Baller Status Club – a new couple-times-a-month email for you movers & shakers. Where we get down to the nitty gritty of life and seeing these dreams unfold.
  • Shop – I wish I could sit on your couch every morning when you woke up, hand you a cup of coffee and make sure you started the day with a pep talk. But I can’t. So I have designed some prints you can scatter around your life to help you remember you were made for big things.
  • Storm Sessions – Basically, I wanna be your wingman. One-on-one mentoring sessions with me via skype. This is where I get to hear about the things rolling in your head and get down to business helping you figure out how to let these dreams and goals gain traction.

I’ve taken what we already had going and took it up a notch or twelve hopefully.

And you know what? I’m terrified. As we all are when we step up and say, “What the heck. Let’s do this.”. Maybe I’ve laid out a picnic and no one will come. But I’ve got a feeling.

I’ve got a feeling that life is about to break wide open for us. Big things are ahead and this is the place we can gather to talk about them.

‘Cause we are the dreamers & doers. We don’t play small.

Welcome home friends. Go ahead and browse around OUR NEW HOME! 

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upside down glitter punches

Dear God, get us out of here.

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photo cred

 Ain’t nothing good coming down these streets.

At least that’s how it seems. Waiting on crappy benches scrawled with the wise sayings of 17 year olds and trash left over from the people who waited before us. Litter on our landscape. Gee, thanks. But we’ve got our shoes on and our bags ready because we know that we are going somewhere.

Busting out of this joint. God said good things are ahead and we believe Him. So we check the schedule for when our bus is gonna show up. When the phone call should come in, the decision is scheduled to be made or that magical moment when our special someone realizes that we are their only someone. Here comes the offer, the hire, the proposal. Here comes the future.

It was the best day of our lives until it wasn’t.

Knocked off our emotional high out of nowhere. Like the girl who shoved me down the slide when I was a little girl and a beautiful evening in the park ended with butterfly stitches on my quivering chin. Below the belt, girl. Not cool.

And here we are today. We’ve lined out our Sunday best, hired the band and roped off the sidewalks. Floats with our dreams about to make an entrance down the boulevard. Then we hear the thunder in the distance. We think to ourselves, “Don’t make me say it. Don’t make me say those words.” As the wind picks up, we watch the clock hoping that we can start soon and beat the bad weather. The words drop from our lips. “Don’t rain on my parade.”.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. Wondering which will come first. Our plan or the storm. Dear God. Get us out of here before it hits.

Life is the simultaneous celebration of glitter cannons and below the belt punches. All rolled into one like an upside down day.

So we live our lives waiting on the benches. Sometimes getting wet and other times escaping the downpour just in the nick of time. Either way, it is up and down. Up and down. Up and down. If we aren’t careful then our soggy dreams build up into bitter hearts. Criticizing everyone who plans their parades and even worse – watching in horror as the sun shines and everything goes as planned for them.

Or we stop dreaming and scheming all together. Can’t handle another disappointment.

These bus stops turn into our homes because we secretly stop believing that we were ever meant to go anywhere at all.

What in the world is God thinking? Sending us out full of hope when there are storms nearby?

I’ll tell you what He is thinking.

He is thinking that no rain can get you wet enough. No wind can knock enough power out. No lightning can send people running too far.

We may be waiting on these benches. Feeling the sunshine and the rain. Seeing our balloons wilt with the passing of time. Then – sometimes at the very last second – we hear the music in the distance. A colorful parade in a world of grey. A world that is in desperate need of celebration and big hopeful ideas. A promise fulfilled at exactly the right time.

You’ll probably get wet in the waiting, but God won’t rain on your parade. I promise.

 

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Filed under Faith, Fire, Going Places, something bigger

The War of 100 Adventures

A late night ramble.

 

They made it sound easy through all the tears and muddled congratulations. Parties were thrown and cards were given telling me all the tales that my life would hold. The world was at my feet they said. Life before me with a merry greeting just waiting to see what I would do next. Gosh it sounded so romantic at the time.

I was 18 and had just graduated high school – I remember what I felt like it was yesterday. The deep hope  and vivid imagination that unpacks brilliance in a series of vibrant daydreams. Slideshows flew through my head of love, foreign countries and legendary adventures. Like life was gonna be one big road trip.

Then I started college. Suddenly I was faced with a million decisions. What was I gonna do? Who would I date? What were the goals and next steps? I went into college as a neuroscience major and left with a degree in political science. If I had no respect for reality, I would still be there racking up degrees. ‘Cause its hard to rule things out. How can I be a modern-day version of Julia Roberts in Mona Lisa’s Smile without an art degree?

But that’s just it. I will never be an art professor. I will never be a lawyer or doctor. Not a historian featured on documentaries. The Food Network will never make a pilot episode for me and medical school? That ship sailed long ago. My life isn’t big enough to hold each single dream the way I see it this side of heaven.

Maybe I can be whatever I want, but I can never be everything I want.

At some point I had to choose.

Telling me that the world is at my feet does me no good if I don’t know how to walk. Opportunity means nothing without vision and purpose that point these little toes in the right direction. Even now I can easily lose track of where it is that I am supposed to be going.

There are hundreds of adventures in life that vie for my time. From dreams to careers to families. Some days I totally sit unsure of what move to make. What if I make the wrong choice. To say “yes” to something requires a “no” to another thing. Juggling all the bits works for a while but then my hands cramp and I let it all fall apart like a teenage romance. Good for a while, but it could never last.

I struggle with what I assume most other millennials do as well. Endless opportunities and options from growing up in an online world. Constantly reinforced with the idea that my destiny is hyper-individualized and my path can lead me anywhere. Except I don’t quite know where to head at times.

Options are like currency for us. The more we have the richer our lives feel.

At the drop of a hat, we could pull out and jump onboard with something better. Switch paths based on the most photogenic for an Instagram post. Our online audience needs us to keep things interesting. No sleep till Brooklyn as they say.

So many adventures call our names. Noble ones with a strong sense of duty behind them. Hilarious escapades that generate countless hashtags of inside jokes. Adventures that seem to fit like a glove for one hand but don’t come with a match for the other. Which are we to follow?

A dreamers dilemma.

A million places I’d like to go, but no certain guidance. That’s the problem with options I suppose. And while I am thankful to have the privilege of so many choices, I have recognized that what I am after isn’t really choices at all.

What I crave is consistency. A sense of mission that follows me through each choice and helps me navigate this war of 100 adventures. ‘Cause they are fighting for my time, attention and committment. Try as I might, I can’t live them all.

I can’t tell you which adventure to choose, which calling to obey, or dream to pursue. I do know that in the noise of the process and the ideas that heckle you when you put them down – I do know that there is a hand we can hold.

The hand of the One who is prompting us to step out in the first place. It’s okay if we slip up and don’t get it right the first time. There is more Grace than we know for the decisions we navigate.

In the war of 100 adventures not all dreams make it out alive. And that is how we live. How we live the things we are meant to. A courage to stop being afraid of missing out, of not picking the attractive thing, or worrying that none are the right fit. We hold the hand of the One who guides us and trust that close to him is where we are to be.

And He will guide us. Like He always has.

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When God Asks For His Dreams Back

Dreams come and dreams go. But one thing remains certain.

Some nights I am simply a hot mess. The kind of emotion where you plead, “for the love of God don’t ask me how I am doing.”. Because you know if someone asks, you will have to tell. Not that you want to say, but your tears will betray you. They will come without permission and they will come hard. Steady and hot.

There is a dark side to dreaming and we don’t like to talk about it much. We like the planners and inspirational quotes. All the feel-good things and the stories of those who’ve gone before and tackled the giants. Bringing them down with bare hands and then taking on the perception that we ought to do the same.

Don’t get me wrong. I am all about the big dreams that put a fire in your heart and a spring in your step. But if that’s all I tell you on here then I am lying. Withholding the painful truth.

Sitting here in my chair I can’t help but recount the cycle I know too well. God made promises, but they didn’t come about in the way I expected. A million examples roll through my head. The moments of inception followed by the birth. And then the release. The hand off for someone else to grow the things I have planted.

Handing my work over was never what I planned. My mind envisioned these days of expansion. When I had nurtured this thing inside of me beyond it’s infant vulnerability. When it recognized me and produced the kinds of things I intended for it. Seeing the fullness of what God had purposed it for. So many times I had made plans around the dreams I carried.

I suppose mostly though, I envisioned being there. Still at home in the midst of the dream. Having carved out a space for me where I was safely tucked within the walls of the promise. Somehow it belonged to me and I belonged to it.

But, I am here now. Outside looking in. Watching as new hands shape the things I once held. Because God called me away and invited them in. He asked me to give the dream back. Handing it over for another person to carry. Of course the dream will still be a part of me. I’ll carry it in prayer, but reality is that I am part of that dream’s  past. The founder but not the current CEO of my ideas.

Truth be told, it makes me a bit sad. Sad to not be a part. It is sad to sit outside the house that you have built and watch another family move in. Sad that in so many ways the story didn’t pan out the way I wanted it to. Because the story had chapters that extended beyond my portion. The dream was no longer mine. It had it’s own legs and went on without me. It became an independent being.

And that is the journey of dreamers. We carry things, believe for things, contend for things that are brought forth from within ourselves. Ideas we have created, beliefs we have fastened. But so many times, the intention was never for us to carry it forever. It either outgrows us or we are simply called away to craft a new dream. To create once again in the deep places of possibility. It is the blessing and curse of being a visionary. 

It seems cruel at times, as if it is the dark side of dreaming.

The truth is that it isn’t cruel. It is hard, painful and humbling at times. Dreams come and dreams go. But this one thing remains.

This Kingdom of God is a generous kingdom. One that gives and recieves freely. As freely as God moved and dropped all the seeds of ideas and promises in our hearts, He asks us to hand it back over. Not always, but sometimes.

Because somehow in His all-knowing way, He knows we need some other adventures ahead and to birth new things. He isn’t taking it away – stripping us of all our work.  He is giving us the opportunity to carry more. Fresh new ideas. He is adding to our hearts.

Because He is generous.

Gallons of tears and aching months later, I see that now. I see how it has all played out.

I still get sad and that’s okay with God. He can handle grief.

Today I will let myself get a little bit sad for what is no longer mine.

But mostly I will celebrate that God has allowed me to be a part something so beautiful. His generosity to me in allowing me to have a spiritual inheritance. Those things I get to keep.

Because God is generous.

If  He asks us for the dream back it is because He knows what is best. Because He is waiting to give us something else.

Today, some of you need to hear that. You who are feeling the loss of the dream or promise. The thoughts racing through your mind wondering what you did wrong. Why someone else was chosen to run the next lap on the track you built with your own hands. And then the dread sets in as we wonder the most deadly thought for dreamers. We see ourselves as the victim. The one who was robbed of the blessing and acknowledgment. Fear that who we are and what we have done will be forgotten during the turnover.

The truth is that God is offering to give us more not make us less.

We don’t need to worry about just being the pioneer or the forerunner. Fearful that whatever we birth will be taken away from us. If things are with us for a month or a lifetime, it is because God is generous. On those days where we dread God asking for us to give back to Him what we have built, we remember this. It was His generous invitation to allow us to be a part in the first place. And God’s invitations never run out. There is always more that waits ahead for us. God never forgets. Ever.

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We are dreamers and doers. Now, we need to do something. Right now.

Give what you can to a good cause & win a chance for a free consulting session with me.

photo by Samuel Aranda for The New York Times

photo by Samuel Aranda for The New York Times

 

Everyone has heard of the Ebola outbreak in West Africa. If not, I suggest you read this and catch up. I’m gonna be quick and to the point on this. Me and you? We are game changers. World shapers. Because in their core, dreamers believe that things could be different. And right now, our world needs some change.

Ebola is spreading at a rapid rate and absolutely terrorizing people who deserve better. Maybe we don’t know their names and their stories, but they matter. Just as much as our own.

The Raining Season is a group who has been serving the orphans of Sierra Leone for years. And now that Ebola has hit they are continuing to serve the community there and are on the ground providing real-time help.

How can dreamers change the world? We can give ourselves to something bigger. Would you consider donating to The Raining Season as they are working directly with this issue? Even $5 can make a difference.

Every person who donates to Help Stop Ebola, can enter for a chance to win a Storm Session with me valued at $100. Just leave me a comment or tell me on social media that you donated and I will enter you into the drawing that will happen Monday, October 6th.

Lets be about change and living for something bigger. Spread the word and lets help those who need it.

Thanks guys.

I’m glad we are changing the world together.

ebola

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