It’s not just a new routine that steals our stillness. It can be old bad habits that we just can’t kick. A big stillness stealer for me is contentedness, or rather, the lack of it in my life.

I’m by nature a perfectionist and a driven, type A personality. While this helps me get a lot done in a very efficient manner, it also means it’s hard for me to just sit and enjoy the present blessings in my life. I’m one of those people that frequently uses the phrase…”I’ll be happy when…”

Besides perfectionism, other stillness stealers come in the form of jealousy, greed, and envy. Don’t think you have a problem? Don’t tell me you haven’t played the comparing game on Facebook (or Pinterest or Instagram or Twitter).

The truth of the matter is God gives us exactly what we need, when we need it. The problem we face is our denial of that. Our society is part of the problem with its “Keeping up with the Joneses” mentality, but it’s not just an American culture thing. It’s a sinful nature thing. And it totally steals our stillness.

Trust gets replaced with worry. A peaceful heart gets replaced with frantic, breathless striving. A healthy content soul turns into an ugly, oozing sore of envy and greed.

How does this happen? Well, for one, we’re doing more looking around than looking up. Another cause is pure delusion. We’re comparing our nitty gritty life with everyone else’s highlight reel (or so the saying goes about Facebook).

It’s time to shove it all aside. It’s time to settle down. It’s time to take a deep breath, confess it off our hearts, ask for a big helping of forgiveness, and pray for the peace we so desperately need. I need it so bad.

So what’s with the name? Why have I called this new set of posts “Still September?” In danger of stating the obvious, I’ll go ahead and say that September is anything but still for me. With schoolage children and a teacher for a husband, September picks up our summer routine (ahhh…summer) and throws it out the window (eeeekkkk….). The result is a month full of change, a catapulting of our lives into the new school year.

New friends and procedures and routines for my children, a new job for me, a whole new pace for everyone. Time to go back to the to-do lists and my frantically scribbled on desk blotter.

Quite simply, September is anything but still around here.

I think September is one of those months that feels a lot like January. It causes us to reflect on routines gone by, what worked and didn’t work. It marks the passing of time and makes us nostalgic. And it’s a great month to set up a bunch of expectations and resolutions.

I learned something difficult in the past couple of years. Call me naive, but I really did believe that someday life would settle down and that I would become a grown-up that had it all figured out. But that’s exactly what you learn when you become a grown-up: life never settles down. We’re constantly readjusting, reworking, reevaluating our lives. Life itself is change. It’s not just September.

Which is when I learned that it’s not about having it all figured out, but learning how to go with the flow. Control is absolutely positively undeniably an illusion (bleh, another grownup lesson). Although we claim we have it “under control,” we don’t. We have nothing under our control, really, except for our attitudes and our outlook on life.

With all of these grownup lessons in the back of mind, it leaves me longing for something to hold on to. With the consistency of change, I long for stillness. With the absence of control, I long for something to hold on to.

Enter GOD.

He’s simply the only constant: his love, his promises, his forgiveness, his grace. He’s simply the only one with control: all powerful, all knowing, all seeing.

I think acknowledging that things are always out of control and changing is our first step, because it drives us to the only ONE answer. So that’s what I’m seeking this September. The stillness of my God.

Last year at Christmastime, I wrote a blog called A Different December. From the first of December until the twenty-fifth, I wrote a blog a day, every day. I didn’t want to wake up on Christmas morning as I normally did, with a home decorated and food prepared and presents bought, but completely unprepared spiritually to welcome the day and my Savior. I wanted that December to be different. So I forced myself to sit at the computer for awhile every day to contemplate and prepare my heart for Jesus’ coming.

It wasn’t easy to do, and just because I sat down every day didn’t mean that the distractions and to-do lists and obligations and piles of laundry magically disappeared. It was more work, yes, but it brought a wealth of spiritual blessings. And it reminded me: the truly good things in life are worth fighting for. After completing that month I was tired, but incredibly fulfilled.

That’s why it’s time to do it again. This time in September, when the school year is fresh and scratchy new. When summer is the farthest away from us, and the calendar pages feel fat and full. When routines are yet to be established, and we make our first efforts to carve new ruts of familiarity and comfort.

“If we can just make it to October…” That’s the saying in my family, among my sisters and mom, come every August when we’re pushing into new school years, new jobs, new homes. We’d all rather skip from the all the firsts, right over itchy September into the crisp, cozy days of autumn. Of course that’s impossible, but it helps us remember that all these new things, all these unpacked boxes and unfamiliar faces and unknown routines are temporary. Soon things will feel lived in and comfortable again, and that usually happens around October.

So I’m going to do what my psychologist sister tells me to do:

Lean in.

Lean into the discomfort of all the new things. Lean into the unknowns. Lean into the fears. If you’ve never heard this expression, it means to accept what’s going on and to sit with it, instead of trying to avoid it or explain it away or give up on it. It’s accepting what is, taking a deep breath, crying if you have to, and then moving onward. The shortest distance isn’t around something, it’s straight through it.

So while I’m leaning into the discomfort, I’m not going at it alone. God is standing right next to me. He made our lives with day and night, firsts and lasts, seasons that come and go. And while we’re standing at the beginning at the start of a new day, a new month, a new season, a new job or a new school year, it’s the perfect time to let the past go (he’s forgiven it all) and move forward with Him (he sees what’s ahead). As we begin, we know that we’re walking with him.

September is the perfect month to lean into Him.

I’m fast approaching my 31st birthday, and have been thinking about my next 31 Feet topic for awhile now. Every year for the past few years, I’ve come to my birthday and set a goal, a birthday resolution if you will. 🙂 One year my goal was confidence. Last year it was yoga. I’ve never told anyone that I do this, because I feel like when you tell people, there’s extra pressure. But the cat’s out of the bag now because I’ve found a goal that I’d love to talk about here online.

I choose my goal because it’s something that I want in my life, something that’s not just a change for a year, but a change that I want in myself for life. And the thing that I can’t get off my mind for this year’s birthday goal is fear. I don’t want it anymore.

I’ve been thinking about fear a lot lately. I don’t know if it is a midlife crisis thing or if a trust thing, a mother thing, a coward thing or what. All I know is that I am sick of it. I’m sick of letting fear determine what I do and do not do in my life, parenting, relationships, and faith life. Being afraid of things is ultimately not trusting that God will take care of me, my concerns, and those I love. Being afraid of what people think or say about me has kept me from being who God created me to be. Being fearful has kept me from sharing my faith and reaching out. And that’s just not right.

I’ve been thinking about approaching this subject here on 31 Feet for about a month, but I just didn’t know where to start. Then a few weeks ago I ran into an article about fear in a magazine I was reading (funny how that happens sometimes, huh?). The article was about a book called Daring Greatly, written by Brene Brown. She’s a researcher who studies not just fear, but the root causes of it. Her exhaustive studies about fear and living wholeheartedly have led her to the conclusion that conquering fears isn’t about conquering fears, but about having the courage to be vulnerable.

I’m a few chapters in, and it’s fascinating. It’s not written from a spiritual perspective, but my mind is buzzing with how it all connects to my spiritual life. I’m really excited, and I’d like to share some of what I learned here and apply it not just to my life, but to my faith. Because that’s where it all starts, right?

Stay tuned for more!

Though I’m a bit late, in the spirit of Mother’s Day, I wanted to post about the loads of grace that I’ve received from my mother. She’s taught me many things, but I’m going to pick just five to share this Friday morning:

1. A bath, a candle, and a glass of wine can go a long way. My mom is a creature of habit, and one of her habits is her nightly bath. Now that I’m a mother, I’m glad she taught me the restorative power 🙂 of a nice hot soak with a good smelling candle and a glass of red wine.

2. The art of savoring. My mother is the master at savoring good things, from a delicious meal to a new experience to the sunshine on the beach. She tips her head back and breathes it all in. She has nailed the art of everyday gratitude. 

3. The power of grace. My mother joined a church in her early teens that taught her the grace of Jesus Christ. When she talks about grace, she talks about it as if it’s something she’s still astounded by. For a born and bred Christian, hearing her talk about the wonder of grace makes me appreciate it for what it is: a beautiful, undeserved miracle of love and forgiveness.

4. The meat of life. Since I’ve had my kids, my mom is quick to remind me that I’m in the meaty part of life. She says there’s nothing sweeter than the time when your kids are all living in your nest…important to remember when I’m feeling frazzled or dissatisfied with life at home with kids.

5. The beauty of forgiveness. It’s her story to tell, but my mom had a very difficult childhood. Rather than turn her sour, her life story champions the beauty of forgiveness: her forgiveness of others and the Lord’s forgiveness in her own life.

What’s your favorite thing about your mother?

It’s been a busy week, as most weeks in May tend to be. I’m married to a teacher and also tutor after school, so the sounds of a school in high gear have been buzzing in my ears. Everyone is past the tired stage, with kids in hyper mode and teachers hanging by their Expo markers. The weekends are packed with birthday parties and graduation parties, while I’ve scheduled dozens of appointments in the middle of it all (I do it to myself). We’re thinking about moving (again), but only across town, and longingly planning our summer vacation.

All of it is wrapped up in the realization that our very first year here is already ending, much too our astonishment. The calendar pages flew out our condo window, and the whole last nine months seems much like a dream. There’s been more than one time that I’ve woken up from sleep and wondered for a split second: Where am I?

In the midst of May, however, and in the middle of a busy week, I realized it was time again for one of my outside posts. So with the sun in our favor and a supper of sandwiches, we found ourselves with a pleasant hour. We all pulled on our suits, loaded up our red plastic wagon and headed to the pool. A quiet hour after supper to watch the kiddos leap joyfully into the pool again and again and again.

And as we sat there watching in this surprising hour of peace and quiet, my husband pulled out the question: What’s your favorite memory of this year? And, being too lazy to pick out just one, I simply said, “Our life. This. Time to go to the pool together.” And happily, so happily, I realized that I meant it.

That’s what I love about being outside, watching the clouds steadily stream by and the sun set again on a day, it gives you time to meditate on life, the way time marches on, and your small place among all of it. You step away from your home, your calendar, your month of May, and suddenly you have time to contemplate. You realize as you watch the sun rise and set, the moon wax and wane, the summer come again, that life wasn’t meant to end…your soul was created to know eternity. And even though life has to end here on earth, God ensured that your life would go on into eternity. And with that thought brings the knowledge that all this here and now, it’s just a speck. It’s just momentary. We can be thankful for this sunny afternoon, we can endure a dark night. A different kind of Spring is on its way.

I’m continually grateful for other writers who write things that wake me up, hit me between the eyes, and make me sit up and take notice. Here are a few of my favorite quotes that I’ve read lately:

1. “It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone…in our own home. Bring love into your home, for this is where our love for each other must start.” Mother Teresa

2. “The world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only by a spiritual journey, a journey of once inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our feet and learn to be at home.” Wendell Berry

3. “Anything you do from the soulful self will help lighten the burdens of the world. Anything. You have no idea what the smallest word, the tiniest generosity, can cause to be set in motion…Mend the part of the world that is within your reach.” Clarissa Pinkola Estes

4. To freely bloom…that is my definition of success.” Gerry Bloom

5. “Let go. Let go, let go, let go. And then, trust.” Katrina Kenison

Hear me, Lord, and answer me,
for I am poor and needy.
² Guard my life, for I am faithful to you;
save your servant who trusts in you.
You are my God; ³ have mercy on me, Lord,
for I call to you all day long.
⁴ Bring joy to your servant, Lord,
for I put my trust in you.

This little sign hangs on our front door, in our our tiny tiled entryway. My daughter stuck it there three months ago, and if you can’t make it out, here’s what it says:

I love you because you are you.

It’s the title of one of her picture books, and this saying greets me coming and going each day. It reminds me of the love that we have for each other, that beyond anything we do or give to each other, we love each other just because. We fail each other, we help each other. In our best moments, we are self-sacrificing; at our worst, we are self-seeking and rude. Beyond our kept or broken expectations, we love each other simply because we do. This love covers over a multitude of shortcomings and sins, fears and failures. It carries us through to forgiveness.

When I fail as a wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend…when I see my own mess of a life clearly, it’s easy to get down, to give up, to feel fear. But there’s something about this line that always comforts me. It reminds me that I’m included in my family’s grace for each other. This quote always brings to mind this passage from Titus chapter 3:

4 But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, 5 he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, 6 whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, 7 so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.

Sometimes I’m so disheartened by my failures and my faults that I don’t move from repentance to joy in the Gospel. I lose sight of the fact that God loves me for me, not because of what I’ve done or not done. It’s not at all what I’ve done, but what God has done for me. This kind of love lifts me up and rescues me from myself. It’s pure balm to know that God’s love is not conditional…it’s unchanging, steadfast, sure. It is everything I’m not, and still, it’s for me.

Knowing this means I can finally be still. Knowing this means rest for my tired soul. Knowing this means my life can be motivated by God’s love, not by pride or self-assurance or fear.

To be loved and known, understood and appreciated, cherished and cared for…that’s a deep need we all have. It’s met partly by our spouses, children, family and friends, but only completely and perfectly by God’s love for us. It’s a love that passes our understanding, but was proved by Jesus, who loved us simply “because” we are His.

Dear Father,

What a privilege it is to approach your throne, one I don’t deserve. Yet you invite me back day after day, and you are ready at any moment to listen. I’m sorry for growing apathetic about your gift of prayer. I’m sorry for viewing it as a to-do item, instead of a get-to-do privilege. Forgive me for Jesus’ sake, and help me to view prayer as what it is: a precious gift and something you command me to do.

Lord, thank you for your love, your grace, your forgiveness…and all the joy and peace these gifts have given me. Help me to share the message of the Gospel with those around me, to seize the opportunities in front of me.

Lord, please strengthen my faith in you. Help me to forgive and love. Help me to seek heavenly things, not earthly things. Help me to make reading your Word, praying and writing here a daily practice.

Bless my husband, my children, my family, my friends. Heal those who are sick, comfort those who are sad, give peace to those who are struggling.

I ask this in your Son’s name,

Amen.