Tag Archives: love

Aug 22 2025
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wildflowers don’t care where they grow

I’m a person that loves a good routine. Rhythms and rules have served me well over the past 10+ years of my life, and have set good boundaries in place that built a lovely playground for me to frolic in. And the frolicing has been delightful!

So imagine my surprise when those routines, rhythms, and rules stopped working. I can’t pinpoint an exact date, but over time life became stagnant. The workouts stopped serving me. The mornings got dull. The literal path I would always walk lost its luster.

Amy Poehler writes in her memoir, “Yes Please”, that significant life change is like, “spreading everything you care about on a blanket then tossing the whole thing up in the air.”

Amy was specifically talking about the process of divorce for her, but the image rings true for me. No, I wasn’t going through a significant life change. Mostly everything was as it had always been*. Sure, some things had shifted around, but the foundational level of my life remained intact.

And yet, everything was on a blanket being tossed in the air.

It’s a strange thing when the systems you’ve built to support your life stop serving you out of nowhere and without warning.

Insert a sabbatical after nearly 13 years of full-time ministry.

This was definitely not part of the normal rhythm of my life.

I’d planned and prepared for my sabbatical for a few months before June 2nd actually came around. On that Monday morning, I was on a plane to a week long retreat for rest and care at a center whose mission is to serve those who serve.

I arrived and my host for the week showed me to my room. The Flower Room. Little did she know that I’d had the song Wildflowers by The Greatest Trio of All Time** stuck in my head for the last 8 months.

The refrain of the song that had been front and center of my mind, that Dolly, Linda, and Emmylou so effortlessly sing is, “Wildflowers don’t care where they grow.”

I’ve always loved Missouri wildflowers. I grew up with a grandma that would drive along dirt roads just to look in the ditches during a very specific two-to-three week period in June. She wanted to look at the wildflowers. And so I wanted to look at the wildflowers. Don’t tell her, but I wanted to look at them so much that I recently got a tattoo of a flower so I can see one anytime I want.

I got back from my week away and went to visit my family in Southern MO. I took a ride along the gravel road at the perfect time and wouldn’t you know, the wildflowers were growing in the ditch along the field.

You can’t convince me there’s a more beautiful sight than a Missouri ditch in June.

And again, that line – wildflowers don’t care where they grow – would not leave my head.

In the midst of forcing the same routines and rhythms into my life and seeing no change, God met me in the beauty of His creation with the invitation to let go.

Let go of what I’m “supposed” to do.
Let go of what used to work, but doesn’t anymore.
Let go of the old wineskin.
Let go of the expectation that I should be_____(fill in the blank).

If wildflowers don’t care where they grow, I don’t have to either.

My favorite Doctor of the Catholic Church (as a non-Catholic) is St. Thérèse of Lisieux. She saw herself as a “small wildflower, simple and hidden but blooming where God has planted her.” She believed in the simplicity of doing ordinary things with extraordinary love.

She didn’t care where she grew. But she grew. Being watered and tended to by a good Gardener. She didn’t need routine or rhythm. She simply gave herself over to Love and let Love do His work.

And that’s what 40 days off work and a ditch in Southern MO taught me.

My responsibility is to give myself over to Divine Love. Sure, I’m rebuilding some rhythms and routines and rules, setting up a new playground to frolic in. But I’m (hopefully) doing it with my good Friend Jesus, a kind and careful Gardener who tends to my soul.

I hope and pray that the ditch of my heart (can we take the metaphor there?) doesn’t look like it did 10+ years ago. I hope there’s a more vibrant ecosystem of wildflowers that have taken root and display immeasurable beauty. Even if it’s just for two or three weeks a year.

And I hope and pray that the ditch of my heart only continues to gather more life and beauty as the years and seasons come and go.

I hope this wildflower learns to not care where she grows. Only that she does grow.

*I did write a book during this time and if there’s anything I know about putting yourself out there and being vulnerable, it’s that the enemy will come for you. So I guess I should recognize that there was *some* change going on 🙂
**my personal opinion, but it is the correct one

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Dec 28 2024
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the presence of kids

For the last 6 years my mom and I have gone Christmas tree shopping together on the first weekend of December. A weekend of winter festivities, this has easily become one of my favorite ways to usher in the post-Thanksgiving season. We venture to a local farmers market and pick out the perfect needled greenery for my apartment. I love having a real tree in my home this time of year.

Over the years the tree has gotten bigger, I’ve added more ornaments, and I’ve upgrade lights. 3 years ago I had to purchase a bigger skirt and a new star to adorn the top as the previous options had outgrown our needs.

This year my 6-year-old nephew and 4-year-old niece joined us for our festive weekend.

We walked the aisle of firs and spruce, determined to find the perfect December addition to The Light House. We picked out a delightful 6-footer, brought her home to my apartment, and the real fun began.

We plopped that sucker in a stand and went to work. Lights, candy canes, ornaments new and old. We dressed that tree like it was the most important thing we would do with our lives that day. Mostly because it was. And once we were done, I snapped this picture:

If you look closely you’ll see ornaments that are a little bunched together. You’ll see lights that aren’t perfectly strung. You’ll see three candy canes hanging under the star in a tripod pattern, just above three more that to most probably look like they are just randomly thrown up on some limbs. Mostly because they are.

I snapped this picture and sent it to my friend saying, “Guess where Sayge decorated?”

It was comical to me that this tree was very clearly decorated with no “purpose.” There was no visible order to what we accomplished. Usually, when you decorate a Christmas tree, you try to spread things out. You make sure you don’t have too many bulbs close together and that trinkets are hung with intentional care.

At first glance, there was no intention to what was adorning this tree.

We all closed the night with popcorn, Shirley Temples, and a viewing of Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas. We fell asleep under the multi-colored glow of our tree decorating accomplishments and yes, my heart did grow three sizes.

The next afternoon I sent a Marco Polo to my friends showing them the tree and giggling about how disorganized it was. I mentioned that I had thought about changing it after the kids left, to make it look a bit more put together. But I had decided against it because 1) I’m lazy and 2) us adults are always coming in trying to fix what kids bring to the table and I just didn’t want to do that with this sweet tradition we had just participated in together.

In mid sentence to my friends I realized what a gift the disorganization on my Fraser Fir was offering me. My niece was so proud of her ornament placement. My nephew believed to his core that he was tree designer extraordinaire.

And for me to come in and mess that up because it would be “better” just felt wrong.

Kids offer us such simplicity. It doesn’t take much to entertain them and it really doesn’t take much to make them feel special. Some eye contact and an excited look whenever they tell you the sky is blue is usually all it takes.

And as we grow up, we grow out of that simplicity. We grow out of the amazement that there even is a sky. We stop basking in the wonderment that the simple task of decorating a Christmas tree offers.

We move from delight to perfection. From joy to obligation. And we lose the point.

Jesus tells His disciples to let the children come to Him because the Kingdom belongs to them.

The Kingdom belongs to those who delight. Who take joy. Who are amazed. Who wonder. Who simply do because it brings life.

So I didn’t straighten up my Christmas tree. Instead, I look at it and smile and think of the delight Jesus takes in all of our imperfect efforts.

He won’t come in to straighten up our clustered decorations. He’ll just delight in our presence with Him in the process.

PS – I wrote a book! You can order To Showing Up wherever you choose to purchase your paperbacks! Link to purchase on the Zon is here! Directly from the publisher, here!

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Aug 26 2024
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give us your efficiency

As a follower of Jesus, one of the practices that settles me into my day is prayer.
As a follower of Jesus that also works in ministry and inhabits a lot of ‘Christian’ spaces, one of the practices that occurs quite a bit in said spaces is prayer.

Recently the opportunity was offered for someone to pray as we began a meeting and within that prayer, the pray-er said, “Give us Your efficiency.”

I don’t remember what else he prayed, but I wrote that line down immediately.

It wasn’t a request to mold our efforts into something God would bless.
It wasn’t a request to make our paths clear or our ideas creative.

It was a request for efficiency.

To be efficient means to achieve maximum productivity with minimum wasted effort. At least that’s what dictionary.com tells me.

I don’t think about God being efficient. I think about Him as kind, loving, gracious, steadfast, merciful, present…but efficient has never been a term I’ve listed out when it comes to talking about God.

Yet.

He is.

He is the most efficient. He doesn’t waste a ding dang thang that He does.

The working power of God displays His efficiency in all He has created and all He has done. From His initial act of creation, to His presence with the Israelites, to His words delivered by the Prophets, to the incarnation of Christ, to the crucifixion, to the burial, to the resurrection, to the ascension, to the expansion of His Kingdom on earth, to His working in and among His people today, God’s efforts are maximally productive and minimally wasted. To go on and on about all of that in this space would take far too long, so let’s grab a bevvy and chat about it instead.

In a season of life where my own efforts seem to be minimally productive and maximally wasted (yes, I’m exaggerating a teeny tiny bit), I can ask God for His efficiency. And when I am open to receiving His efficiency, I’m more able to see that all of life lived in an effort to honor God is maximally productive and minimally wasted.

The productivity of my life isn’t reduced to tasks I can cross off a list or accomplishments I can add to my resume.
In God’s economy, His efficiency makes sure my days and my efforts are not wasted, but are instead an addition to the Kingdom at work in the world around me.

A life submitted to the lordship and love of Jesus allows grace to abound more than I could have ever hoped for or imagined.
When the milestones aren’t reached, the dishes aren’t done, the weight isn’t lost, the promotion isn’t received, and the [insert all the things here], God’s efficiency still tells me at the end of the day, “Hey, good job. You lived in my love today. All will be well. Let’s do it again tomorrow.”

So I’ve started asking God more and more for His efficiency. I want to be an efficient member of His Kingdom, but on His terms.
And I think His terms are simply, follow me.

That seems like the most efficient life I could ever ask for.

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Apr 03 2024
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disruptive peace

First off, yes, I know it’s April and no, my Christmas tree is not still up. And B) for all the liturgical nerds out there, yes, I know the third/pink candle represents joy and I’m here talking about peace, but

(I’m not starving, but this is accurate)

If anything, this pic is a representation of how long I’ve been thinking about this idea of disruptive peace. Two words that typically don’t go together.

They’ve been stuck in my head for months.

This weird idea of disruption throwing you out of sorts, but peace bringing you…well…peace, and how weirdly, peace has disrupted my life.

I love lighting advent candles. I love the glow of the tree (obviously), the early morning light, staring at the flame with a cup of coffee in hand.
I love that week by week, we add more. The anticipation of all four candles being lit is such a delight to me. I love that by the fourth week, the first candle is burned so far down, but still lights with its companions.

The advent candles represent a journey for me. And this year the journey has been specifically toward peace.

You see, I’m a person that can get really worked up. Walking out of the gym and seeing a vehicle parked in a spot that the driver just decided to make into a parking spot, when it’s clearly not a parking spot, works me up to the point that I say something to my friend multiple days in a row and finally got the chance to make very aggressive eye contact to which I took FULL advantage.

Again, I can get really worked up. And it’s often over dumb stuff like a parking spot that has no actual affect (or is it effect?) impact on my life.

But it can also be about relationships, or lack thereof.
Job performance.
Health issues.
Car trouble.
Etc.
Etc.

It’s very easy and natural for me to lean into anxiety. To give myself over to the negative and worrisome storylines in my head that may or may not be true.

So a few months ago when I started having issues in relationships
Job performance
Health
Car
Etc.
Etc.
and I wasn’t getting worked up, it was disruptive.

I’ll spare you all the details, unless you want to buy me a beverage and do nothing but listen to me ramble for 2-6 hours, but let’s just say 2023 was a doozy. She was not my favorite. The ending of 2023 was quite frankly:

Yet, it was peaceful.

It was peacefully the worst.

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your graciousness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Don't worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." - Philippians 4:4-7 (CSB)

"Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life." - Philippians 4:6-7 (MSG)

This peace that I was feeling in the midst of a hellish season was disruptive.

It disrupted my normal thought patterns.
It disrupted my anxiety.
It disrupted the way I typically deal with stressors in my world.

Now don’t get me wrong – I had plenty of breakdowns and tears and commiseration sessions with myself and others. It was not a sunshine and rainbows kind of hellish season.

But not once did I wonder if the peace of Christ was near. I knew in my bones that it was. I knew that Christ peacefully held my breakdowns and tears and commiseration sessions. In fact, I believe He was right there with me. I believe Holy Spirit – the Helper – was helping me breakdown and cry and commiserate, to put to death the pain, disappointment, anger, and so much more that was inside.

And before I knew it, a sense of God’s wholeness settled me down.

I don’t think when Paul was writing to the Philippians about the peace of Christ he was talking about a hunky-dory, whistle while you work kind of life.
I don’t think he was talking about nothing every bothering you or causing you stress or worry ever again for the rest of all time.
I think he was talking about life with Christ that settles your mind, heart, and soul even when everything is falling apart.
Not to dismiss the falling apart, but to acknowledge that Jesus disrupts the destruction as things fall apart and holds you near.
I think Paul was talking about what happened to me over the last few months, and I sure do hope this peace keeps disrupting my life in the best of ways.

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Feb 09 2024
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honoring where you are, today

I never in my life thought I would be a group fitness class girlie. So much so that I loudly declared in August of 2019 that I would **never** go to a gym that only offered group fitness classes. The ego of a former collegiate athlete is so cute sometimes.

Cut to 3 months after that declaration, I was in a group fitness class. And I have quite literally never looked back. I can’t get enough.

Side note: I’ve learned to stop saying I’ll never do something.

One of the things I’ve come to deeply appreciate about these classes is that instructors/coaches/hype girls will start the class with a standard rundown of what’s about to happen and wrap up their intro speech with a version of, “Every day is different, so honor where you are, today.”

While their encouragement is to engage in the class the best way you and your body can for that day, it struck a different chord with me last week.

One of the downfalls of being a person in the world today (I think I can generalize what I’m about to say…) is that we’re expected to beat yesterday. “The only competition you have is yesterday’s version of yourself!”
“You’re only as good as your next rep!”
“Last quarter your numbers were higher than they are currently…”
“You were fine last week and nothing has changed, so what gives?”

The hustle lyfe tells us that our growth patterns have to look like this:

When realistically, it looks like this:

I think we all know that the point of life is progress, not perfection. I think we all know that it’s not linear. But the stories I often tell myself communicate that if I’m not winning the day, then I’m failing. And not only failing, but potentially a failure. If I’m not better than I was yesterday in all aspects of life – spiritual, mental, physical, emotional, financial – then I’m not trying. I’m lazy. I’m wasting what God has given me.

We don’t leave much space for grace, and growth, and learning.
For ourselves and for others.

Some days we need a breath. Our bodies, our minds, our relationships, our pocketbooks (do we still call them pocketbooks??) need a chance to rest. To settle for ‘barely getting by’ instead of a PR.

In even writing ‘barely getting by’ I feel like I’m missing my own point.

A break, a breath, a rest is written into the fabric of the universe. 

"By the seventh day God had finished his work. On the seventh day he rested from all his work. God blessed the seventh day. He made it a Holy Day because on that day he rested from his work, all the creating God had done. This is the story of how it all started." - Genesis 2:1-4 (MSG)

It all started with honoring the day, today.

In honoring where I’m at today, I’m admitting my humanity and the reality that I cannot live a life of striving. I’m honoring the holiness of the opportunity to rest and trust that God holds all things together by the power of His Word. I’m admitting that I have limitations, and that I, in fact, am not God. It’s not a failure if you don’t win the day.

I want to celebrate when I crush it, because I love crushing it.
But I also want to celebrate that I remain whole and held when I don’t.
I want to honor God’s great and abundant love for me that I have simply because He said so, not because I beat who I was yesterday.

Instead of asking myself what can I accomplish today, I want to start asking how I can honor who I am today. How can I honor where I’m at in the story of God’s love. How can I honor the world that God has placed me in. Do I want to grow spiritually, mentally, physically, etc? Yeah. Of course. I’d love to use a heavier kettlebell sometime in the future. But if that gets in the way of honoring the story I’m living in, then nah. No thanks.

I’m sure there’s more to say, and different ways to say it, but this is what I have for today. Honoring where we are starts right now.

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