On July 11, 2014, I published a post titled “Change is Coming to this Blog!” In the post, I explained that I was working on a new blog mission, vision, tagline, guiding scripture, and core values. I also wanted to define, more clearly, what I’ll be writing about from here on out.

Well, today’s the day, folks! It’s time to launch the vision I’ve had in my mind for the past six months.

But before we get started, let me share a little behind-the-scenes secret. Earlier this week, I woke up in the middle of the night, in my half-awake half-asleep state, and all I could think about was this launch. My worry was that it was too much, too complicated, too wordy. So in my middle-of-the-night state, I vowed that I would keep this as simple as possible. So here’s my best shot at making that happen!

It all started with this – the tagline for my blog had to change. I always LOVED the “extraordinary encounters” part of my old tagline, but as I wrote these past two years, I realized there was something bigger I was trying to communicate through the blog. Three individuals I engaged with in February and March 2014 inspired me in specific and complementary ways. As a result, I knew what I could write about forever, “love what you live. live what you love.” So here it is, the new tagline integrated into my logo!

As of today, you’ll find the updated logo in the header on the home page of my blog. You’ll see it at the top, like this…

I have new covers for my Facebook and Twitter pages, and I also have new business cards which reflect the changes to the blog. The business cards are my favorite. LOVE the way these turned out! (Thanks to Shalon Estrada from Pretty Lovely Design for her beautiful work.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

So you might be asking yourself what all of this means. And why did I feel the need to go to such extreme measures to change one little tagline?

Well, there’s actually a good reason I’m making these changes. Like I said earlier, I want to more clearly define my worldview and what I’m going to write about in this online home from here on out.

In the past six months, I’ve taken a lot of time to define and refine the foundation of this blog. The changes I’ve made will benefit all of us. Starting today, my writing will be funneled through the new parameters I’ve set for the blog. If a post doesn’t fall within the parameters, I won’t publish it. This will benefit you because you’ll know more what to expect when you visit my blog. I’m hoping the posts won’t feel quite as random as they might have in the past. Under this new model, there will definitely be a theme, a big-picture message that’s weaved through all the posts on the blog.

So I made this graphic. I’ll be honest, I kind of love it and I kind of hate it. I spent too much time making it, and unfortunately, it was one of the too busy, too wordy images I couldn’t get out of my mind earlier this week in the middle of the night, but I’m not going to remake it! So here it is. It’s intended to give you a quick rundown of all the new bloggy things launching today. I’ll explain in a minute. For now, just take a peek!

Let me be clear up front. This vision is BIG. This vision runs deep. This vision has the potential to last the life of this blog. Sure it may need tweaks, refining and rewording along the way, but big picture, it’s good to go for a LONG time.

So let’s get to it! These are the foundations of this blog from here on out.

I believe that God created every human being to fulfill a unique and specific purpose here on earth.

Therefore…

My purpose is to inspire people to discover, embrace and walk boldly in their unique purpose.

Based on the observations I’ve made about life on earth so far, you’re likely to discover, embrace and walk boldly in your unique purpose IF you…

love what you live. 

and

live what you love.

You can expect every post on this blog to be written with these qualities, these core values in mind…

Beauty.

Authenticity.

Faith.

Passion.

Compassion.

Depth.

Tenderness.

Strength.

From here on out, ALL posts on this blog will fit into one of four categories as follows:

1) PEOPLE WHO LOVE THEIR LIFE.

These posts will feature people who love their life. My goal is to observe and interview people who love a particular aspect of their life, or maybe they love everything about their life! This might include their work, their hobbies, the volunteer work they do, or just about anything about their life that they LOVE. I’m planning to be generous with my borders and boundaries on this one. At this point, I’m envisioning everything from Mary Kay consultants to body builders to real estate agents to pumpkin farmers. Everything from muddy race running to blogging to mosaic making. From nonprofit thrift store management to Special Olympics coaching to animal rescue missions. There’s something to learn from people who love their life. I don’t know about you, but I’m eager to learn their secrets. I’ll be writing these posts with the belief that if you LOVE your life, you’re most likely tapping into your purpose.

2) PEOPLE WHO EMBRACE THE LIFE THEY LIVE.

These posts will feature people who whole-heartedly embrace the life they live. The original vision for these posts is to observe and interview people who love what they live, people who are making the best out of less than ideal situations, people who are living in joy, beauty, peace and love even though life has proven to be challenging. At this point, I’m envisioning a whole host of individuals, including people who have special needs, people living in poverty and extreme poverty, people living with mental illness, people who have suffered abuse, people who have battled addiction, acutely and chronically ill individuals, infertility, stillbirths, adoption, and a whole host of others unnamed and yet to be imagined. Within this category, I would also like to dive deeper into the impact of these special situations on the family at large. Therefore, I hope and pray I’ll be able to interview moms, dads, siblings, special friends, and family members that have been impacted and have found beauty in the ashes. I have a feeling that God has more in store for this category than I’ve imagined. I can see already that He’s going to expand my definition of “love what you live” exponentially through these interviews. I’ll be writing these posts with the belief that God wastes nothing, that your purpose might very well rise up from the ashes.

3) EMBRACING AND WALKING BOLDLY IN MY PURPOSE.

These posts will be personal reflections on embracing and walking boldly in my purpose. I’m going to work this “love what you live” and “live what you love” out in my own life, and I’m going to share it with you in real time. What does it mean to love my life, even when it’s hard, even when it’s messy, even when it’s less than desirable, even when it’s barely tolerable? What does it mean to live a life I love? What makes me tick? What fuels me, makes me feel lit up inside? What risks will I take? How many times will I step out of the proverbial box or boat? In what ways will I be stretched like never before? And how will I know if I’m living my purpose? I’m not exactly sure how these posts are going to look. Some might look a lot like posts I’ve written before. But I think many of these posts are going to cause me pause. I’m going to need to reflect and look at my life from angles I haven’t before. And one thing’s for sure, I’m going to be jacking up my courage. Big time. Because in order for me to live out my calling, the purpose for which God created me, I’m going to need a lot of courage. And faith. I’ll be writing these posts with the hope that you’ll feel empowered to live, love and discover your purpose if you know someone’s on the journey with you.

4) LEARNING TO LIVE, LOVE AND DISCOVER YOUR PURPOSE.

These posts will be written for you. And I’m SO excited about that. Among the handful of careers I wanted to pursue for the longest time was psychologist, and one aspect that’s been missing from this blog is getting down and dirty in the trenches to help YOU. So with these posts, I’m envisioning that I’ll step back and draw some big-picture conclusions. What words of wisdom can I draw from interviewing people who love their lives? What words of wisdom can I draw from interviewing people who have chosen to embrace the lives they live, even if they’re less than ideal? What words of wisdom can I draw from embracing and walking boldly in my own purpose? If there was ever a how-to aspect of this blog, these posts will be it. I want to empower you. I want to inspire you. I want to engage in meaningful, authentic communication with you. I’m going to get vulnerable and real, and I hope you’ll be willing to go there with me. Oh yeah, and I’m guessing that I’m going to ask some hard questions. Because nobody ever started loving their live and living their purpose until they started asking and answering some really hard questions.

Last, but not least, I’ve chosen two scripture passages that will guide this blog.

Psalm 139:13-16 (click here to read the passage)

and

Isaiah 61:1-3 (click here to read the passage)

These are some of the most beautiful pieces of scripture there are. They both speak beautifully into the new mission of this blog. I can’t imagine any better words to guide my writing than these.

So yeah, let’s do this!

I feel like I’m baby blogger with this gigantic God-sized vision. And I have to be honest. This scares me. This is most definitely going to stretch me beyond my wildest imagination. Because in and of myself, I don’t have the power, the connections, the strength, the resources to make these interviews happen. In and of myself, it’s going to be a real challenge to embrace and walk boldly in my purpose, and share vulnerably with you. In and of myself, I don’t have the power to create change in your life. In and of myself, I can’t make this God-sized blog vision come to life.

But as Kristin Welch of “We Are That Family” stated in a recent blog post:

“There will be a big gap between your yes and the reality of your dream. That space is God-sized. If we have all the answers, resources, funding, the perfect plan, it might be our dream and not His. But when we don’t know all of the details or have all the answers, it gives God room to show up.”

God’s assured me with His still small voice that He’s prepared and trained me for this, that He’ll equip me because He’s called me. So I’m choosing to say yes. Because I don’t see any other plan for this blog. And I believe this is what God is calling me to do with this space. I believe He will show up. Big time.

So let’s go.

You and me.

Let’s live and love. And on the way? Perhaps we’ll discover the purpose of our lives.

 

 

 

The cake’s lit up. Today’s for you, dear one.

What wish will you have? What wish will it be?

Dream grand. Dream big, sweet one.

For there’s only one you. You, beautiful you.

Where would you go? Who would you be? How would you live life that’s meant to be?

Do you believe it is possible? Do you believe it is true? That you are the one and only you?

What will it be, dear? What will it be?

Tell me, tell me. I long for you to see.

What does your heart say? What does it say?

Go?

Stay?

Be?

What, dear one, will be your wish?

If you could have anything, anything, anything? What would that be? What would that be?

See.

See.

See.

To see is my wish for you, for me.

To see the beauty every day.

To see the purpose in your pain.

To see life’s canvas, waiting, white.

To see your future, beauty, bright.

To see miraculous you, you.

To see the love that’s waiting on you.

To see your life for what it is.

To see that you are truly His.

To see.

See.

My birthday wish, for you, for me.

To see.

It was the second week of August 2013. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. For some reason, I had more time than normal before my last speech-language therapy home visit that day, so I took the opportunity to stop at the grocery store where I planned to do business banking and pick up an ice cream treat.

But I never did make it into the store that day.

This thing that happened? It was a little crazy.

So I got out of my car at this grocery store I’d never been to before, and all I could hear was somebody whistling in the parking lot. It was the kind of whistling that was hard to ignore, although everybody but me seemed to be going about their grocery shopping business as usual.

I looked around and looked around some more. There were NO signs of a whistling person anywhere. But then I looked a couple rows down and saw an older man with a line of grocery carts. He was pushing the carts towards the store, and I noticed he was the one, HE was the one whistling!

So I crossed the two lines of cars separating me and that man in the parking lot because, hey, I had a little time and I really wanted to know what compelled this man to whistle so intently while he was working! I approached, told him how lovely his whistling was, how it captured my attention across the parking lot, and asked if I could tell his story on my blog.

When the man responded, I discovered a MAJOR problem…

He didn’t speak a lick of English. In fact, he responded to my inquiry in Spanish.

Hmm….

What was I to do?

I’d only been blogging for 13 months at that point, and I’d never run into a situation like this!

If I was any other sane person, I would’ve let it go at that. But no. I had to do something!

So I went back to my car and pulled up a translation website on my iPhone while keeping a close eye on the whistling grocery cart pusher. One of the first sites that came up was www.webtranslation.paralink.com, so I clicked on the link, found Spanish translation, and crafted something to say to the man. (And ya, I knew that whatever I said had to be simple and to the point, because I hadn’t taken a Spanish class since high school, so even with translation, I wasn’t going to be blowing the dude away with my Spanish proficiency.)

This is what I had translated on my little iPhone…

I love your whistling. Can I write an article about your lovely whistling for the internet?

OK. OK! So 8 1/2 months later, I realize this is craziness, utter stupidity! The fact that I went back to this whistling, Spanish-speaking grocery cart pushing man just to say that seems ridiculous. I admit it. But for some reason, in that moment, I was compelled to return to him and know more about his story, and those were unfortunately, the best words I could muster in those moments of rush in the parking lot.

So I got out of my car, took my handy dandy phone with those words translated to Spanish, and sought out the whistling grocery cart pusher once again.

Utter craziness, I know.

When I approached the man, he recognized me from before and stopped immediately. I pulled out my phone and read the words, in my feeble attempt at Spanish.

Amo su silbido. ¿Puedo escribir un artículo sobre su silbido encantador para el Internet?

(I love your whistling. Can I write an article about your lovely whistling for the internet?)

The man must have understood at least some of what I said, and must have thought I was fluent in Spanish, because he then proceeded to tell me what sounded like his life story – IN SPANISH! 

As he proceeded, sentence after sentence, I debated in my mind – was this rude, demeaning and inappropriate to let this man go on and on in Spanish, when I don’t understand much of anything he’s saying? Or is it OK? I let my heart and my gut rule, and I decided I’d stay. Although I have to admit, it made me feel a little uncomfortable and desperate for a translator because I knew he was revealing to me, right there in the grocery store parking lot, a story that was heart-wrenching and incredible.

So there I stood, in the middle of a grocery store parking lot, listening to this man tell me his life story, in Spanish. And I didn’t understand a thing. Or did I?

My “translation” and understanding of bits and pieces of the man’s story compelled me to stay when logic told me it’d be better to flee.

This is what I understood of the whistling, Spanish-speaking grocery cart pusher’s story, despite our language differences. Words paired with gestures, paired with my strong intuition and skill interpreting others’ communication from 14 years of experience as a speech-language pathologist, led me to understand this.

The man had been whistling since he was born. There were no tears when he was born, just whistling, right from the start. He was most definitely sure of that.

He had no schooling. He could write only a few words.

He’d experienced and observed many devastating and horrific things over the course of his life. His wife died. He gestured having an arm cut off from the elbow down three times. He gestured getting his head cut off another time. He took my pen and wrote “WICKED” on his hand, and had many names for Satan in Spanish.

But even in all his pain, the whistling, Spanish-speaking man had a deep faith. In our short time together, he pointed to the ground and then back up to the sky several times. There were many references to “Biblia.” And he even brought out his lighter and lifted it high to the sky to demonstrate the power of God in all the pain.

After about twenty minutes of chatting, it was time for me to go. I didn’t want the man to be fired, so I found an opportunity to politely wrap up the conversation and bid the man a warm farewell as best as I could.

I returned to my car and scribbled notes about my encounter with the man.

I went home that night and told the story to my husband. It all seemed a little crazy, but there was another part of it that felt holy, like it was a divine appointment between me and this whistling stranger.

My notes and the grocery store flyer sat on my night stand for weeks. I finally decided to tuck them away in a special spot in case I wanted to refer back to that story someday.

Six months later, I took that trip to Haiti. And it wasn’t until I returned from Haiti and sought wise counsel about next steps for my life, that I realized – my encounter with that man was profound. I finally got it. I finally understood.

That whistling, Spanish-speaking grocery cart pusher taught me the only thing I need to know about LIFE. Though life’s handed us the worst, the most devastating and horrific of circumstances, we can CHOOSE to be joyful, we can CHOOSE to whistle and make the most of each and every day. We can CHOOSE to let faith rule our lives rather than fear.

It’s true for me, and it’s true for you. Will you choose to be brought down by your circumstances? Will you choose to let life get you down? Or will you whistle your way through life with faith, finding joy and opportunity in every moment?

That whistling, Spanish-speaking grocery cart pusher taught me the only thing I need to know about the PURPOSE of my LIFE, too.

The purpose of my life is to be a translator-of-sorts.

To translate stories of fire and ashes – into beauty.

To translate stories nobody understands – into stories everyone can understand.

To translate stories untold – into stories told.

To translate stories of lifelessness – into stories of true life.

To translate stories of pain – into stories of purpose.

To translate stories hidden – into stories brought to light.

To translate stories of misunderstanding – into understanding.

To translate stories of doing what you love, and loving whatever it is that you have to do.

Yes, it’s mysterious work. And I’m still trying to figure it all out.

Before, I believed there was no purpose in me sharing this story – because I didn’t know all the details, because I didn’t understand all of the man’s words, because I didn’t really know his story after all – so I stuffed it away in a hiding spot to keep to myself. There was simply too much mystery in it to believe it had value.

But now, I rest in peace, knowing the mystery is what’s profound. The mystery is where I’m meant to reside. This gift of translating mystery into some sort of beautiful reality? It’s what I’m meant to do.

So whistle on, whistle on people.

Whether you’re winning or losing or somewhere in-between, whistle on, whistle on.

Amy

I couldn’t help but feel I was invisible, just another body, as I walked the pathways of Nickelodeon Universe at the Mall of America.

The diversity of people roaming the walkways was undeniable – young, old, black, white, body piercings, Jesus jean jackets, Albino white hair, curly black wig hair, robed from head to toe, and scantily dressed.

But as I walked and then stood among the people, it was easy to see why anyone could feel alone, unimportant, just another number trudging the ground of this place called earth.

What is this place?

And why are we here?

What in the world is the point of all this anyway?

I pondered these things as I waited for my daughter to take a spin on the swings.

I positioned myself near a duck game and as odd as it sounds, the ducks called to me in that moment. Laying there lifeless, they reminded me of what I’d observed about people roaming Nickelodeon Universe’s walkways. Aren’t we all just waiting to be chosen, longing to know our lives have purpose beyond mere existence? Don’t we all want to believe we’re special, that we stand out amongst the rest? And why is it that everyday life sometimes causes us to become silent, lifeless, stuck in what feels like a plastic merry-go-round, just like those ducks? Can’t someone just come and rescue us, get us out of this place, help us know we’re more than just another body on the walkway of life?

This theme continued to emerge in different ways as we made our way through the Mall of America. Life CAN feel pointless at times. It’s not uncommon to feel alone, even in a crowd. And it’s ok to wonder if we’ll ever be fully loved and known here on earth. We wait, sometimes in desperation, for reassurance that our life truly does matter.

In all my Christianity, in all my belief that there IS more to this life, I paused and wondered, not for the first time…

What IS the point of all this?

Why God?

Why do you even have us here?

The next morning, I woke bright and early for a desperately needed workout at the gym. Approximately 15 minutes into my workout, I noticed two women hovering over the ledge, staring down intently at the cardio and weight training area. One of the women was significantly distraught, the other was working hard to calm her.

I have radar intuition and knew something was horribly wrong, so I stopped immediately.

As I approached, the calmer woman said to the distraught one, “You need to leave. Get out of here. Everything is going to be ok. Don’t watch this anymore. Go.”

And then I looked down, into that open area where everyone but a few were completely oblivious.

A man was flat down on the ground between two weight training machines. His eyes were closed. He appeared totally unconscious. His chest was heaving notably. I could only assume he’d had a heart attack or stroke and might just as well be dying, right there as I watched.

Two gym members stood inches from the man; I assumed they were present when it happened. The manager of the gym was there, and one personal trainer. I’d arrived so early on in the scene that they were just affixing some equipment to the man’s chest, and were performing CPR. I wondered if anyone had called 911, but determined based on peoples’ behavior that it must have been taken care of.

I began praying silently, to myself, as I watched from above.

Part of me realized it might not be terribly respectful to watch this man in his worst of hours, his life possibly passing by. But there was a bigger part of me that knew – I needed to see this. Maybe the reason my eyes were opened to the incident while most were still oblivious was because there was something I really needed to learn that day.

So I continued to pray, watch with open eyes and an open heart.

Before I knew it, one first responder entered the main floor through the back door wearing layman clothing, nothing official. When he knelt down, I noticed the man’s chest was still heaving notably but irregularly, and he was still unconscious.

Just seconds behind the first responder came the policeman with a big plastic tote in hand. He, too, knelt down next to the man. They began a thorough examination.

Then, a whole host of medical and emergency professionals arrived. And now, there were too many bodies to count, all hovering around this one man.

His life was on the line.

It was then, when I could barely see the man on the ground because of the crowd around him, that I understood more than ever the fragility and sanctity of a single life.

Gym staff gathered large signs and arranged them as screens around the scene to honor and respect this man’s privacy as his body was transferred from the ground to a stretcher.

At that point, I thought it was best if I left, continued my run.

But as I made my way around the corner, pressed play on my iPod, and reluctantly pushed the headphones in my ears, I realized the most fitting song was playing.

I stopped.

And looked down once again, this time from a slightly different angle.

The music played.

I watched newcomers enter the space with great concern. I watched people on treadmills and ellipticals turn around and become aware of all that was happening for the first time. And I could feel and see the gravity of the situation on peoples’ faces as they passed and moved about.

It was a holy moment. Right there in the gym.

As the man’s body was rolled away on the stretcher, tears streamed from my eyes. Kari Jobe’s “What Love is This” played quietly on my iPod. And I couldn’t help but feel God’s presence.

There was something about those moments that made me realize – God’s truly in control. There’s a bigger story that’s unfolding and it’s richer and more complex than we know. We don’t need to know all the answers. We don’t need to understand every bit of why and what and when and how.

But what we DO need to know, what YOU need to know, is this…

You are chosen. God knows. your name. Your life means something. Whether you believe it or not.

In the end, what matters is that you loved and that you were loved.

Your life is at stake. Live it.

Because in the end, when you’re flat on the ground taking what might be your last breaths, you won’t be worrying about how much money you made, what position you held in the company, how big your house was, how fat or thin you were, whether you ate steak or hot dogs for every meal of your life, whether you wore Lululemon workout gear or cheap Target stuff, or whether your kid owned a real American Girl doll or the Walmart knock off. And in those final moments, nobody will give a rip whether you worked overtime, full-time, part-time or not at all.

Nope.

The only thing that will matter when you’re on your death bed is whether you lived and whether you loved. Whatever your situation, live it and love it. That’s all there is.

And know. People care. People love you.

So be loved. Allow yourself to soak it in.

Whatever life circumstance in which you find yourself – whether you feel completely worthless and purposeless and like nobody really knows the real you, or whether you feel full of life and purpose and known by many – just know. you matter.

In the end, they’ll hover around you. It will be a sacred, holy moment. Your life will prove its worth.

So make the most of these days.

Because your life is short.

Do what you love. And love what you live.

Decide to do that.

Because none of us know when we’ll be flat on the ground.

So live for today, as if it’s your last.

And know. You’re important to the God of the universe. He formed your being, He named you special, worthy. He made you with purpose. And he wants you to live abundant. Today.

As I made my way around, to the place where the windows faced the ambulance where the man lay, men and women stood, looking on. “We all get to go like that one way or another at some point,” an older man said to me as we stood there quiet, watching. Nothing but the man’s lifeless foot was visible from the one ambulance door that remained open.

Live. So when you die, others might live differently because of your life.

That one thing you need to know about your life? It matters. So live it.

Amy