On Tuesday, little E caught the nasty virus Herpangina. Sounds gross, doesn’t it? Google it. Turns out it’s running rampant in her school right now and yeah, there’s nothing you can do except wait it out. Ella’s has manifested itself as a rash on her arms and legs, general crabbiness and a fever. Thankfully, I have an amazing Mother who was still willing to take her for the weekend while I attended a women’s conference at our church. Charlie, exercising her 4 year old will yet again, had three good days of swim lessons and then completely regressed and refused to get in the pool. This wouldn’t seem like such a big deal except that this is our second year of swim lessons and last year we spent close to $400 and all she did was stand on the edge of the pool and scream. Very disheartening when you have a summer of Texas heat ahead of you and neither of your children likes getting in the water. Period. To top it all off, this morning, when I went upstairs to check on Charlie, I found her curled up in the fetal position with a temperature of 101. All of that effort to separate them and they both caught something. Just the beginning of sibling germ-sharing, I’m sure. All of this makes for a pretty crappy week in my world. And yet, I was reminded this weekend how small I’ve let myself become. It’s easy to feel like you’re living in a bubble in the suburbs. It can seem like an impenetrable fortress at times. There’s free parking. Drive-through Starbucks on every corner. Exemplary schools. Mother’s Day Out programs where your children are being taught about Jesus and attend chapel every Friday. Attached garages (this was a big coup after living in the city). 4,000 square feet of house for what an 800 square foot condo costs in Chicago. Convenience. So when my kids are sick and swim lessons are a disaster it can feel like the world is falling down around me. In the greater picture of life, however, there is so much more, isn’t there? If you are a Believer in Christ, as I am – the Alpha and the Omega, Lord of Lords, King of Kings – you know that at the end of this life there is Hope because you will spend eternity at the feet of your Father. I know where my forever is but somehow I’ve forgotten where my present is. Who is this life about? Is it really about me and my day-to-day struggles, or is it about that 6 year old girl in India spending her days as a child prostitute? Is it about whether or not my kid gets into the preschool of my choice, or is it about those foster children who age out of foster care at 18 and have nowhere to go? Is it about replacing the carpet in our downstairs with hardwoods or is it about that family in my town who can’t pay their bills and have nothing to eat? I’m pretty sure that God wanted more for us (and from us) while we are on this Earth. I’m pretty sure that we aren’t called to prosper ourselves, but defend the fatherless. And I’m most definitely sure that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. So how I ended up in the place where I feel like I have nothing to offer is confusing to me. If it’s true that I am fearfully and wonderfully made, then why can’t I believe that? Why do I choose to live in this space of negativity and self-doubt and LIMITS, when God’s power is LIMITLESS. After a weekend of the powerful music of Natalie Grant and the immense wisdom of Charlotte Gambill, I am stopped in my tracks. I am left wanting and wondering… Wanting to do so much more with my life and wondering if I can do it. Can I make a difference in people’s lives? Can I use the gifts that God has given me and change hearts? Can I Dare To Be all that He has created me to be? This was one story that really hit me hard this weekend: 2 Kings 4:1-7
The Widow’s Olive Oil
4 The wife of a man from the company of the prophets cried out to Elisha, “Your servant my husband is dead, and you know that he revered the Lord. But now his creditor is coming to take my two boys as his slaves.” 2 Elisha replied to her, “How can I help you? Tell me, what do you have in your house?” “Your servant has nothing there at all,” she said, “except a small jar of olive oil.” 3 Elisha said, “Go around and ask all your neighbors for empty jars. Don’t ask for just a few. 4 Then go inside and shut the door behind you and your sons. Pour oil into all the jars, and as each is filled, put it to one side.” 5 She left him and shut the door behind her and her sons. They brought the jars to her and she kept pouring. 6 When all the jars were full, she said to her son, “Bring me another one.” But he replied, “There is not a jar left.” Then the oil stopped flowing. 7 She went and told the man of God, and he said, “Go, sell the oil and pay your debts. You and your sons can live on what is left.” I am an empty jar, constantly wanting to be filled, making life all about me: Why isn’t that happening for me? Why don’t I have what she has? Why hasn’t my dream come true? Why haven’t I been given those chances? When really, maybe it is my job to fill the jars of those I meet, to write about life and death and eternity and Christ and not worry so much about what I haven’t received but focus more on giving and filling and encouraging and letting God do His great work and TRUST that He sees the bigger picture. And maybe, just maybe, in the end I will be blessed far more than I could ever imagine. And then my life won’t feel so small anymore. No, it will feel as big as the sky, as deep as the ocean, and as wide as Heaven’s Gate. What will you Dare to Be today??
Oh yeah – a playbill of our college production of “Hamlet”. I remember my heart beating out of my chest when it was announced Baylor would be tackling this juggernaut of plays. I promptly threw myself into winning the role of Ophelia. I even grew my hair out over the summer, Crystal Gayle style (as if that mattered, funny how the mind works) – and made it my JOB to be everywhere Dr. Peters was so he would give me the chance. Lo and behold, that next school year, after days of strenuous auditions, we entered into that seemingly endless time of waiting for the cast list to be posted. You wanna talk about terrifying?? Sometimes we would lurk in the greenroom or outside our professor’s doors, just waiting to catch a glimpse of that crisp (and emotionally charged) piece of paper. The details are now fuzzy – after all, this was over 13 years ago – but I do remember someone might have seen it first and shrieked. Whatever happened, when my name came into view I’m quite certain that the rest of the world faded away. You know what it meant to see your name up there? Possibility. All that untapped potential, just waiting to be harnessed and directed and collaborated with. Memories with your dearest friends, time spent in conversation, coffee or beer in hand. Hard work, excitement, butterflies, and applause. Such a wonderful cocktail for an ambitious and determined 21 year old and her need for the stage. Ophelia is one of Shakespeare’s greatest tragic female characters. Watch Helena Bonham Carter or Kate Winslet in the role and you’ll see. I decided to name this blog “Almost Juliet…” a year ago because Juliet is a role I haven’t yet had the chance to play. A massive, unrealized dream of mine…so much so that when I think about it sometimes my heart aches just a little bit. And I suppose that might never really go away. Funnily enough, just as Joey posted the picture of our Hamlet’s playbill, I scrolled down a little bit and caught a glimpse of something (or should I say someone) else: 
…and of course, this someone too: 
How easily I forget that my two greatest “creations” are asleep in their beds upstairs. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. 