basketball & a verse in Luke.

I wasn't sure what we'd signed ourselves up for at the beginning of basketball season, but isn't that how we all feel at the beginning of everything new?!

They all had different reasons for being there. Different personalities. Different abilities. Different, yet the same on so many levels. Boys - wanting to be bigger and stronger and faster than they really are. Boys - hoping for stardom and easy shots without realizing how much effort and persistence it really takes to make the shot, get the rebound, make the great play.

The six of them taught me a lot about myself during those Saturday mornings as I watched from the bench. They played this piece of scripture the best they could and I learned it right along side them.

Then he told them what they could expect for themselves: “Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat—I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you?

Luke 9:23 MSG

1. Keep your head up.

Looking down is easy. It doesn't require much thought, it doesn't challenge you, and you only see a limited piece of where you are and not one extra inch of the people and places beyond yourself. Keep your head up and let your eyes lead the way. Let your eyes guide your feet to that place where greatness can happen - not because of you, but because you were willing to see the big picture and not just yourself.

2. When it's hard, don't run away.

Finding the easy way out is what a lot of people do these days. We run the other way and try to figure it all out on our own. We refuse to stick with it because we're afraid to fail. We don't want to look foolish, and we don't want to let anyone down - especially ourselves.
Hard builds character. Hard pushes you to places you've never been before. Hard turns you into a selfless person - where selfishness can't even think about growing. Facing hard head on - that's where you find out what you're made of and who you're really trusting to get you through.

3. Remember to jump & follow through.

We don't make every shot we shoot. Sometimes we forget to jump. We often to forget to follow through. And sometimes we're just off. The important piece is that we remember why we're here in the first place. Not just to win. Not just to hear the crowd cheer. Not to make every shot. We're here with our head up and our eyes wide - listening and learning - even when we're on the bench ... because if everything was easy, we'd have no reason to remember to jump or follow through. We'd forget where we came from and who brought us here and we'd never see anything but ourselves.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about this verse and this basketball season, and as I do, I can't help but whisper {thanks}. We all gained 3 habits during those months - keeping our heads up, running toward life, not away from it, and jumping in & following through. Habits that are crucial for playing basketball and for life if we are truly followers of God.

Habits are hard, but they make life easy. {ann voskamp}

Keep shooting Mason - jumping and following through with all you've got - God's got you!

without guilt.

I got dressed quickly. Somehow I had missed the sunrise. There wasn't time for a shower and touching up my blush and mascara was going to have to be good enough. There were soft sounds of calves and cows mooing and the sky was gray. The kind of gray that hangs and presses down. The kind of gray you're not expecting or wanting to wake up to on Easter morning. The blossoms on the trees were quiet and I went through the motions of the every-day just like I had yesterday and the day before that. I pulled my socks on. Socks with hearts. Socks that whisper 'you are loved more than you'll ever know.' And I walked outside by myself.

I waited in the car for my parents. My heart felt heavy and my eyes weren't quite as sparkly as usual. I could feel tears, but none came. We rode the 25 minutes to town quietly. There wasn't much to say. This life was not and is not what I thought it would be. Somehow we get these skewed ideas of what life should look like and when it doesn't, we're devastated inside. We say we trust, but do we? We write about faith and grace and love that comes easily, but having that kind of faith and love and grace on days like this one isn't easy at all.

It's Easter and I hadn't bought matching shirts for my boys. I hadn't bought any Easter candy. I hadn't filled one basket, and there were no rolls waiting to be warmed later in the day or a yummy dessert to drool over in my mind throughout the day. Somehow this was a broken version of beautiful.

A day of celebrating the grace and freedom we have in Christ was heavy, not necessarily happy throughout my soul. I drove into town dreading the questions and looks ... 'where is your family?'  ... 'where are those beautiful boys you love so very much?' ...'why are you here without them?' Questions people ask without saying a thing sometimes ... the guilt you feel because the devil wants you to. I practiced my smile in the mirror and rehearsed the words and answers I would give.

The music started and the voices of several of my beautiful and talented friends filled the room. The room where there was standing room only. The room I call home on most Sundays. The music filled the air and my eyes saw clearly. This day isn't about families looking perfect. This day isn't about new clothes or Easter baskets. This day is about freedom and forgiveness. It's about an empty tomb. It's about personal relationships between this amazing God who sent His son to this world to die for each and every one of us.
The stone was rolled away, and I was standing in a sanctuary with my eyes lifted up and my heart filled.

I had made the right choice. I didn't guilt my 3 'men' into fitting into something the world says they have to do or my mind thinks they should do ... must do. I didn't tell them how or what to believe. I gave them a choice, and today, they chose home. They chose that which they know well and I chose what I know, too.

I am a wife and mother that doesn't cover much up. There isn't anything to hide. I don't sugar-coat or paint pictures of things that don't exist. And today, on one of the most beautiful days of the year, I sat in church with messed up hair that hadn't been washed, touched up make-up, and a heart exploding with gratitude for the honesty that God has given me to share and to live. I was with my parents and that was the most perfect way to spend this Easter morning. They've raised me well ... and still are.

It's not my job, or calling, to save my husband or my children. I don't have to be their Savior. I'm not supposed to be. I can not guilt them into loving Jesus or wanting to come to church. I have to love them and show them Jesus the best I know how by my words, my actions, and my attitude. I have to be love not just to the world around me outside of my home, but to my home and then the world.

..............................

It's 3:30 in the afternoon. It's been a quiet day with a couple of hard conversations. No one has matching anything on and there aren't any eggs filled yet. There is a ham baking, and the potatoes are boiling. The eggs were eaten this morning while I was at church so we won't be having deviled eggs, and I didn't buy any candy while I shopped for rolls and strawberries. It's not a 'normal' Easter in any sort of way, but it's beautiful none the less.

I bought myself roses before I went home. A dozen. And I'm trusting that this gray and rainy day - the one where I bought roses for myself - that it will be one I look back on as the one where freedom was finally found and guilt vanished for good.

He is risen indeed.